Sat Jan 22 (Rayne) :: Jabberwocky-- Lewis Carroll 'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves Did gyre and gimble in the wabe; All mimsy were the borogoves, And the mome raths outgrabe. "Beware the Jabberwock, my son! The jaws that bite, the claws that catch! Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun The frumious Bandersnatch!" He took his vorpal sword in hand: Long time the manxome foe he sought-- So rested he by the Tumtum tree, And stood awhile in thought. And, as in uffish thought he stood, The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame, Came whiffling through the tulgey wood, And burbled as it came! One two! One two! And through and through The vorpal blade went snicker-snack! He left it dead, and with its head He went galumphing back. "And hast thou slain the Jabberwock? Come to my arms, my beamish boy! O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!" He chortled in his joy. 'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves Did gyre and gimble in the wabe; All mimsy were the borogoves, And the mome raths outgrabe. My fondness for this poem began when I was very young, in elementary school. The idea of a "Jabberwock," a "Jubjub Bird," and a "frumious Bandersnatch" were all unimaginable, but I was terrified of them nonetheless. Hope you enjoyed the poem! Sweet Dreams, Rayne look bord
Sat Jan 22 (Lina) :: The tables turned (Willam Wordsworth's work) Up! up! my friend,and quit your books, Or surely you'll grow double Up! up! my friend, and clear your books Why all this toil and trouble? The sun, above the mountain's head, A freshening luster mellow Through all the long green fields has spread, His first evening yellow. Books! 'tis a dull and endless strife Come, hear the woodland linnet, How swaet the music! on my life, There's more of wisdom in it. And hark! How blithe the throstle sings! He, too, is no mean preacher Come forth into the light of things, Let nature be your teacher. She has a world of ready wealth, Our minds and hearts to bless- Spontaneous wisdom breathed by health, Truth breathed by cheerfulness One impulse from a vernal wood May teach you more of man, Of moral evil and of good, Than all the sages can. Sweet is the lore which nature brings Our meddling intellect Misshapes the beauteous forms of things- We murder to dissect. Enough of Science and of Art Close up thore barren leaves Come forth and bring with you a heart That watches and receives. William Wordsworth
Sat Jan 22 (Shadowcat) :: Sonnet XVII - William Shakespeare Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate. Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer's lease hath all too short a date: Sometime too hot the eye of Heaven shines, And often is his gold complexion dimm'd And every fair from fair some time declines, By chance, or nature's changing course, intrim'd, But thy eternal summer shall not fade Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st, Nor shall Death brag thou wand'rest in his shade, When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st. So long as men can breathe or eyes can see, So long lives this, and this gives life to thee. Shakespeare will always be a great passion of mine. ~Lady Shadowcat, Huntress of the Night~
Sat Jan 22 (Rayne) :: A Limerick, From Cotu: This Limerick, by author unknown was told to me by Cotu: 'A dozen, a gross, and a score,' 'Plus three times the square root of four,' 'Divided by seven,' 'Plus five times eleven,' 'Is nine squared, and not a bit more!' :) Squared, Rayne
Sat Jan 22 (Shadowcat) :: Love is Suicide - Michelle Pieon My heart's on fire, Burning with desire, Desire for my only one, Feelings gone beyond the stars and sun, Never to return to the borders of the Earth, If only he knew what he's worth, My world would shatter without him, My existence would become dim, I wish he understood my love, I'd send it to him on wings of a dove, I urn for acceptance, Acceptance of me not my appearance, I need to feel secure, I long to feel him near, Please look into my eyes, My eyes would tell no lies, I silently confess to you my dreams, Never ending wishes it seems, Hold me close, never let me go, I need security from my inner foe, I want to feel that it's worth living life, Take away the pain of the anguish sharp knife, I wish to know of a cure for broken heart, To make the pieces stick not part, Love goes deeper than the surface, To serve a better purpose, The inner foe you must conquer first, Before your feelings go to the worst, Listen carefully to the words I say, They have secret meaning in my way, So please don't turn away from me, I'm begging on hand and knee, I need you oh so bad, Longing for the love I never had, I wish to know what to do, If there's something to look forward to, My feelings can not stay on hold, For insanity will come if not told, Every night I dream of you, Every night it's never new, Repeating like a drumming beat, Filling my body with a steaming heat, I want you, I need you beside me, For you are the key, The key to unlock my inside world, Laughing, singing, being twirled, That's my vision of you and I, Soaring through a sapphire sky, Happiness is all I want, Please don't taunt, I am very fragile as you see, There's no other place I'd rather be, Then here with you, The faint sound of a coo, Of doves above spreading joy, Delicate birds of girl and boy, Messengers of untold passion, Concern, understanding and compassion, Love is suicide, Like a thick pesticide. ~Lady Shadowcat, Huntress of the Night~
Sat Jan 22 (Rayne) :: A Short Poem, but a good one: The Elephant When people call this beast to mind, They marvel more and more At such a little tail behind, So large a trunk before. -- Hilaire Belloc from The Bad Child's Book of Beasts: 1896 Free your inner child! :) Wildly, Rayne
Sat Jan 22 (Centauri) :: Hair Hair is that stuff that grows from your head. It can be blond, brown, black or red. Thick or thin, curly, wavy or straight. Princess Leia's was a big figure eight. Hair is that stuff that grows from your head. But it all falls out, when you are dead.
Sat Jan 22 (Shadowcat) :: The Tyger - William Blake Tyger! Tyger! Burning bright In the forests of the night, What immortal hand or eye Could frame thy fearful symmetry? In what distant deeps or skies Burnt the fire of thine eyes? On what wings dare he aspire? What the hand dare seize the fire? And what shoulder, and what art, Could twist the sinews of thy heart? And when thy heart began to beat, What dread hand? And what dread feet? What the Hammer? What the chain? In what furnace was thy brain? What the anvil? What dread grasp, Dare its deadly terrors clasp? When the stars threw down their spears, And water'd heaven with their tears, Did he smile his work to see? Did he who made the Lamb - make thee? Tyger! Tyger! Burning bright In the forests of the night, What immortal hand or eye, Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?
Wed Jan 26 (Guardian) :: When I'm Gone when I am gone, release mne, let me go I have So many things to see and do You mustn't tie yourself to me with tears Be happy we had so many years I have you my love you can only guess how much you gave me in happiness I thank you for the love you've shown but now it is time I traveled on alon. so greive for me if grieve you must then let your grief be comforted by trust it's only for awhile that we must part so bless the memories with your heart I won't be far, for life goes on So if you need me, call and I will come though you cannot see or touch me, i'll be near and if you listen you will hear all of my love around you soft and then, when you must come this way alon i'll greet you with a smile and welcome you home
Fri Jan 28 (Pin) :: Unttiled Poem This is realy a colection of poems: The bag If your mind is like a paper bag That stores Knolage Then mine has a hole in the bottom ...Pin Why study? The more I learn the more I know. The more I know the more i forget. The more I forget the less I know. So why Study. ...Unknown Man who drives like hell is bound to get there. ...Unknown It is true if you take life slowly you will be just fine, How ever Rushing through it is heck of alot more fun. ...Pin
Sat Jan 29 (Pin) :: how do we know? This is more of philisophicle statement then a poem: How do we know that what hapened yester day hapened? How can we be shure our mind hasn't been altered? How do we know two and two make fore. How do we know there is a world out side of our mind? All we know is what is happing now. How do we know? ...Pin We are all in a democratic trying to be perfect world. Yet it is ironic that no mater who dies it only afects few. What is one's life worth in this world? Why are we all here. Death is only the end for the dead. Yet how do we know that? No one has ever returned from the grave, to tell us what happens. Death is only the end in this world. What happens after that? Is unknown. ...Pin We build bomb but never to use them. The last time the Big bomb was droped was on japan. And vita Millions dead instently. Why do we make it to protect our lives but to destroy others? Just cause there goverment wishes us dead, Doesn't mean we must kill them. Atomic Death. ...Pin
Sat Jan 29 (Pin) :: Auto delete poem. This is a poem Writen to commemerate all thoughs who have died by auto delet Many have been willing sucked into the void. to save them selves from them being destroyed. They stayed in the void to long. And drifed to close to the core. They are now no more.
Sat Jan 29 (Lina) :: "to a skylark" P.B. Shelly HAIL to thee, blithe spirit! Bird thou never wert, That from heaven, or near it, Pourest thy full heart In profuse strains of unpremeditated art. Higher still and higher From the earth thou springest, Like a cloud of fire The blue deep thou wingest, And singing still dost soar, and soaring ever singest. In the golden lightning Of the sunken sun, O'er which clouds are bright'ning, Thou dost float and run, Like an unbodied joy whose race is just begun. The pale purple even Melts around thy flight Like a star of heaven In the broad daylight, Thou art unseen, but yet I hear thy shrill delight Keen as are the arrows Of that silver sphere, Whose intense lamp narrows In the white dawn clear Until we hardly see, we feel that it is there. All the earth and air With thy voice is loud As, when night is bare, From one lonely cloud The moon rains out her beams, and heaven is overflow'd. What thou art we know not What is most like thee?- From rainbow clouds there flow not Drops so bright to see As from thy presence showers a rain of melody: Like a poet hidden In the light of thought, Singing hymns unbidden, Till the world is wrought To sympathy with hopes and fears it heeded not: Like a high-born maiden In a palace tower, Soothing her love-laden Soul in secret hour With music sweet as love, which overflows her bower: Like a glow-worm golden In a dell of dew, Scattering unbeholden Its aerial hue Among the flowers and grass, which screen it from the view: Like a rose embower'd In its own green leaves, By warm winds deflower'd, Till the scent it gives Makes faint with too much sweet these heavy-wingd thieves. Sound of vernal showers On the twinkling grass, Rain-awaken'd flowers- All that ever was Joyous, and clear, and fresh, thy music doth surpass. Teach us, sprite or bird, What sweet thoughts are thine: I have never heard Praise of love or wine That panted forth a flood of rapture so divine. Chorus hymeneal, Or triumphal chaunt, Match'd with thine, would be all But an empty vaunt- A thing wherein we feel there is some hidden want. What objects are the fountains Of thy happy strain? What fields, or waves, or mountains? What shapes of sky or plain? What love of thine own kind? what ignorance of pain? With thy clear keen joyance Languor cannot be Shadow of annoyance Never came near thee: Thou lovest but ne'er knew love's sad satiety. Waking or asleep, Thou of death must deem Things more true and deep Than we mortals dream, Or how could thy notes flow in such a crystal stream? We look before and after, And pine for what is not: Our sincerest laughter With some pain is fraught Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought. Yet if we could scorn Hate, and pride, and fear If we were things born Not to shed a tear, I know not how thy joy we ever should come near. Better than all measures Of delightful sound, Better than all treasures That in books are found, Thy skill to poet were, thou scorner of the ground! Teach me half the gladness That thy brain must know- Such harmonious madness From my lips would flow, The world should listen then, as I am listening now! P.B. Shelly note the funny box shaped characters should be -
Sun Jan 30 (Lina) :: "Fable" Ralph Waldo Emerson (This poem is'nt very long, promise ;) THE mountain and the squirrel Had a quarrel, And the former called the latter'Little Prig;' Bun replied, 'You are doubtless very big But all sorts of things and weather Must be taken in together, To make up a year And a sphere. And I think it no disgrace To occupy my place. If I'm not so large as you, You are not so small as I, And not half so spry. I'll not deny you make A very pretty squirrel track Talents differ all is well and wisely put If I cannot carry forests on my back, Neither can you crack a nut.' Ralph Waldo Emerson See? told you it was short
Sun Jan 30 (Guardian) :: I Will I will show you how I feel, If you will show me how you'll be If we stay together, And start our family I will treat you right If you don't change You're perfect to me now Anymore would be strange Things are starting to turn Into something I fear My heart is starting to break I know the end is near I will let you go love, Turn and walk away But just don't forget How it was supposed to be.
Sun Jan 30 (Guardian) :: A Dream I look into your eyes, I gaze into the night, One chance to touch your heart, One chance to reach your hand. Your face shines with such a beauty, Your eyes reflect my dreams. Your words so soft and gentle As a rose awakens on a sping morning. A single cloud in a vast sky. A star more beautiful than all else above. I wish to touch the untouchable, The dream of what could be...
Sun Jan 30 (Guardian) :: A Rose I bought a single rose today it seemed as though I should. So I gazed upon the basket full and contimplated good. first I held a deep red rose and studied it real well. While holding it up to my nose it was lacking any smell. Then I chose a yellow beauty the most lovely of the lot. A heavenly scent was oh so sweet, yet not the one I bought. A fragile pink one caught my eye, dark leaves embraced its stem. It didn't stand out in the crowd so modest to the rest of them. So I chose the one with quiet grace not flashy, quite demure. I know I made the best choice now, of this i'm truly sure. It's blossoming so lovely than I thought a rose could do. Love I didn't choose thise rose for me. I bought this rose for you.
