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Meela rocks the poet in the book.. Blessing ladly/lady!

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Touched by an angel

 

We, unaccustomed to courage
exiles from delight
live coiled in shells of loneliness
until love leaves its high holy temple
and comes into our sight
to liberate us into life.

Love arrives
and in its train come ecstasies
old memories of pleasure
ancient histories of pain.
Yet if we are bold,
love strikes away the chains of fear
from our souls.

We are weaned from our timidity
In the flush of love's light
we dare be brave
And suddenly we see
that love costs all we are
and will ever be.
Yet it is only love
which sets us free. 

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Robert Graves. Sword and Rose.

The King of Hearts a broadsword bears,

The Queen of Hearts, a rose-

Though why, not every gambler cares

Or cartomancer knows.

 

Be beauty yours, be honour mine,

Yet sword and rose are one:

Great emblems that in love combine

Until the dealing's done;

 

For no card whether small or face,

Shall overtrump our two

Except that Heart of Hearts, the Ace,

To which their title's due.

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A Court of Love. Robert Graves.

 

Were you to break the vow we swore together,

The vow, I said, would break you utterly:

Despite your pleas of duty elsewhere owed,

You could no longer laugh, work, heal, do magic,

Nor in the mirror face your own eyes.

 

They have summoned me before their Court of Love

And warned me I must sign for your release

Pledging my word never again to draft

A similar pact, as one who has presumed

Lasting felicity still unknown in time,

What should I do? Forswear myself for you?

No man in love, plagued by his own scruples

Will ever, voluntarily, concede

That women have a spirit above vows.

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To Magdalena Mulet, Margita Mora & Lucia Graves.

 

Fairies of the leaves and rain,

One from England, two from Spain,

You who flutter, as a rule,

At Aina Jansons' Ballet School,

O what joy to see you go

Dancing at the Lirico:

Pirouetting, swaying, leaping,

Twirling, whirling, softly creeping.

To a most exciting din

Of French horn and violin!

 

These three bouquets which I send you

Show how highly I comment you,

And not only praise the bright

Brisk performance of tonight

(Like the audience), but far more

The practicing that went before.

You have triumphed at the cost

Of week-ends in the country lost,

Aching toes from brand-new points,

Aching muscles, aching joints,

Pictures missed and parties too,

And suppers getting cold for you

With homework propped beside the plate,

Which meant you had to sit up late.

From dawn to midnight fairies run

To please both Aina and the Nun.

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this is the last song of the album, but lyrics are Number 1 to me. Very very poetic! 

 

The troubles

 

Somebody stepped inside your soul
Somebody stepped inside your soul
Little by little they robbed and stole
Till someone else was in control 

You think it’s easier 
To put your finger on the trouble
When the trouble is you
And you think it’s easier
To know your own tricks
Well it’s the hardest thing you’ll ever do

I have a will for survival 
So you can hurt me and then hurt me some more
I can live with denial 
But you’re not my troubles anymore

Somebody stepped inside your soul
Somebody stepped inside your soul
Little by little they robbed and stole
Till somebody else was in control

Somebody stepped inside your soul
Somebody stepped inside your soul
Little by little they robbed and stole
Till someone else was in control

You think it’s easier 
To give up on the trouble
If the trouble is destroying you
You think it’s easier
But before you threw me a rope 
It was the one thing I could hold on to

I have a will for survival 
So you can hurt me then hurt me some more
I can live with denial 
But you’re not my troubles anymore

Somebody stepped inside your soul
Somebody stepped inside your soul
Little by little they robbed and stole
Till somebody else was in control

Somebody stepped inside your soul
Somebody stepped inside your soul
Little by little they robbed and stole
Till somebody else was in control

God knows it’s not easy
Taking on the shape of someone else’s pain
God now you can see me
I’m naked and I’m not afraid
My body’s sacred and I’m not ashamed

Somebody stepped inside your soul
Somebody stepped inside your soul
Little by little they robbed and stole
Till somebody else was in control

Somebody stepped inside your soul
Somebody stepped inside your soul
Little by little they robbed and stole
Till someone else was in control

 

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Patches


 


stay on the ground


and be focused


above the bright side


of the facts


i don't forget


crazy sound


far away


pretending


another step


and we are on the verge


of the alliance


that gives the light


to minds


tired of battling


and to be alone


saving lives


saving lives


it is grateful


to eyes in balance


orange shade


gives the best


another day


another battle


another framework


another fragment


of life


it is just a life


stay on the ground


 


an object can tell


stories i can imagine


when there is no


one else


to be in contrast


a finished


scene


can suggest


images


i wouldn't tell


and if i do


nothing is as i have


seen


back to the future


from a past


i don't know


 clear and real


so


what is it about


the final end?


unsure


is what i am supposed to be


now


but it is going to change


as i grow up


as i grow up


back to the future


unsure


and selfish


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wake up to the world

is high

wake up to the infinitive

sound

wake up

to the treasure

of my eyes

wake up to the world

is open

wake up to the

world

reborn

wake up to

the infinitive 

assault

by the media

let us in

without upsetting

let us in

the moltitude

i am in

wake up to a noisy crowd

wake up to a lovely word

wake up in a brilliant group

wake up in a job that works

wake up

and let us make it clear

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glee
degree
of patience
fit in sleep
glee
 on the street
splendour
deserves
gentle
hand
glee
surface
is no more
briefness
is no more
in glee
rise up
in glee
hand in hand
in glee
 

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The lake isle of innisfree

 

I WILL arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,
And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made:
Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for the honeybee,
And live alone in the bee-loud glade.
And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,
Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;
There midnight's all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,
And evening full of the linnet's wings.
I will arise and go now, for always night and day
I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;
While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements grey,
I hear it in the deep heart's core.

 

William Butler Yeats

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The White Birds

 

We tire of the flame of the meteor, before it can fade and flee;

And the flame of the blue star of twilight, hung low on the rim of the sky,
Has awaked in our hearts, my beloved, a sadness that may not die.
A weariness comes from those dreamers, dew-dabbled, the lily and rose;
Ah, dream not of them, my beloved, the flame of the meteor that goes,
Or the flame of the blue star that lingers hung low in the fall of the dew:
For I would we were changed to white birds on the wandering foam: I and you!
I am haunted by numberless islands, and many a Danaan shore,
Where Time would surely forget us, and Sorrow come near us no more;
Soon far from the rose and the lily and fret of the flames would we be,
Were we only white birds, my beloved, buoyed out on the foam of the sea!

 

William Butler Yeats

Edited by paoladegliesposti

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A promise to California

A PROMISE to California,
Also to the great Pastoral Plains, and for Oregon:
Sojourning east a while longer, soon I travel toward you, to remain,
to teach robust American love;
For I know very well that I and robust love belong among you, inland,
and along the Western Sea;
For These States tend inland, and toward the Western Sea--and I will
also.

 

Walt Whitman

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Not a poem, but my favourite quote:

 

"An eye for an eye only ends up making the whole world blind."

Mahatma Gandhi

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On New Year's Day, two hearts beat as one and like a song, I rejoice because you said a day without me, in another time, another place would be like a stranger in a strange land. Angel of Harlem, I trip though through your wires like a drowning man and maybe one day we will promenade by the ocean, under an Indian summers sky, in Gods country.

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On New Year's Day, two hearts beat as one and like a song, I rejoice because you said a day without me, in another time, another place would be like a stranger in a strange land. Angel of Harlem, I trip though through your wires like a drowning man and maybe one day we will promenade by the ocean, under an Indian summers sky, in Gods country.

Nice one!

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Advice to a son

 

Never trust a white man

Never kill a Jew,

Never sign a contract,
Never rent a pew.
Don't enlist in armies;
Nor marry many wives;
Never write for magazines;
Never scratch your hives.
Always put paper on the seat,
Don't believe in wars,
Keep yourself both clean and neat,
Never marry whores.
Never pay a blackmailer,
Never go to law,
Never trust a publisher,
Or you'll sleep on straw.
All your friends will leave you
All your friends will die
So lead a clean and wholesome life
And join them in the sky.

 

Ernest Hemingway

 

 

Edited by paoladegliesposti

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Bright Star

 

Bright star, would I were stedfast as thou art—

Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night

And watching, with eternal lids apart,

Like nature's patient, sleepless Eremite,

The moving waters at their priestlike task

Of pure ablution round earth's human shores,

Or gazing on the new soft-fallen mask

Of snow upon the mountains and the moors—

No—yet still stedfast, still unchangeable,

Pillow'd upon my fair love's ripening breast,

To feel for ever its soft fall and swell,

Awake for ever in a sweet unrest,

Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath,

And so live ever—or else swoon to death.

 

John Keats

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Be a good man to your wife

Do not share intamacy with another life

 

Don't drink to get drunk

Or even dress like a punk

 

May your words be sweet with no swearing

With no contention, no not even cursing

 

Make your wife understand

To repent is everlasting life grand

 

Take her hand and make a change

Plan your life and rearrange

 

The children need a good example

Or they may marry what tramples

 

Eternal life is all so worthy in love

Make it solely two a cord from above

 

A cord that binds with Gods glue

When no other shall take a look at you

 

Where you both stand on a mountain so high

In ecstasy, passion, and in love eye to eye

 

Leave the lust of the world behind

Rejoice with you wife now in a marriage that winds

 

It's not hard to be a better man

Those who want to live must and can

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The Dying Child

By Hans Christian Andersen.

Mother, I'm tired, and I would fain be sleeping;
Let me repose upon thy bosom sick;
But promise me that thou wilt leave off weeping,
Because thy tears fall hot upon my cheek.

Here it is cold: the tempest raveth madly;
But in my dreams all is so wondrous bright;
I see the angel-children smiling gladly,
When from my weary eyes I shut out light.

Mother, one stands beside me now! and, listen!
Dost thou not hear the music's sweet accord?
See how his white wings beautifully glisten?
Surely those wings were given him by the Lord!

Green, gold, and red, are floating all around me;
They are the flowers the angel scattereth.
Should I have also wings while life has bound me?
Or, mother, are they given alone in death?

Why dost thou clasp me as if I were going?
Why dost thou press thy cheek so unto mine?
Thy cheek is hot, and yet thy tears are flowing!
I will, dear mother, will be always thine!

Do not sigh thus – it marreth my reposing;
But if thou weep, then I must weep with thee!
Ah, I am tired – my weary eyes are closing –
Look, mother, look! the angel kisseth me!

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Dark Symphony

 

Tempo di Marcia

 

Out of abysses of Illiteracy,

Through labyrinths of Lies,

Across waste lands of Disease...

We advance!

 

Out of dead-ends of Poverty,

Through wildernesses of Superstition,

Across barricades of Jim Crowism...

We advance!

 

With the Peoples of the World...

We advance!

 

MELVIN B. TOLSON//// LIBERIA.

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From the Dark Tower

 

We shall not always plant while others reap

The golden increment of bursting fruit,

Not always countenance, abject and mute,

That lesser men should hold their brothers cheap;

Not everlastingly while others sleep

Shall we beguile their limbs with mellow flute,

Not always bend to some more subtle brute;

We were not made eternally to weep.

 

The night whose sable breast relieves the stark

White stars is no less lovely, being dark;

And there are buds that cannot bloom at all

In light, but crumple, piteous, and fall;

So in the dark we hide the heart that bleeds,

And wait, and tend our agonizing seeds.

 

COUNTEE CULLEN.

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