Poets of the day (Page 5)
xapim: catullus : to me she seems like a goddess from heaven, seems- may i say it?-greater than all the goddesses are, who sits by you & without interruption watches you, listens to your light laughter, which cast such confusion onto my senses, for, when i gaze at you merely, all of my well-chosen words are forgot as my tounge thickens & subtle fire runs througgh my body while my ears are deafened by their own ringing & at once my eyes are covered in darkness!
xapim: aristotle : an imitation of an action that is serious,complete, and possessing magnitude ; in embellished language...in the mode of action, the purification of such emotions....
xapim: marguerite de navarre : i'v often wished, the good fortune ...the great obstacle....,of course....showering blandishments and gifts of all kinds....
angel: thank you so much. If you would like you can read my poems that are already published at www.poetrypoem.com/poet3919 the nes on my blog and other places n wire have been copy right but not yet published.
xapim: a singing song - when all around a vigil keep, the west asleep, the west's asleep---alas, and well may weep when lies in slumber deep. there lake and plain smile fair and free, 'mid rocks their gaurdian chivalry, sing ,oh , let us learn liberty from crashing wind and lashing sea.
xapim: blest be the day, and blest be the hour and the very moment blest, by two pure eyes i find.and blest the first sweet pain, the most dear, which burnt my heart when love came as guest ; and blest the bow, the shafts which shook my breast and even the wounds which love delivered there. blest be the words and voices which filled grove and glen with echoes of my lady's name; the sighs, the tears, the feirce despair of love; and blest the sonnet-sources of my fame; and blest that thought of thoughts which is her own, of her, her only of herself alone ! francis petrarch
xapim: a relief chorus of swans, and nightingales takes over and sings to a musical accompaniment supplied by the whole forest under the leadership of the wind....lucian
xapim: aeschylus : a goddess but not to turn on the world and ravage it past cure. i put my trust and must add ? i am the only god who knows the keys, where lightning-bolts are seal. the leathal spell of your voice, never cast it down on the land and bright its harvest home. lull asleep that salt black wave of anger---awsome, proud with reverence,.....forever ,....cherished.
Likeitornot: How do you speak, what cannot be said?
How can you reach what cannot be had?
Why do we save, what in time we will lose?
Why is it so often, we always need to choose?
The beat of a heart, the sigh of a breath
Why can I hear, I am supposed to be deaf?
An eye open though blinded in sight
A wingless bird on an aimless flight.
A spook, a spirit a ghost, all of the past
They linger and haunt yes they seemingly last
The cold dark of night, or a vigilant fright
One eye open though blinded in sight.
The evil the good the lock on the door
They key to the lock I fall to the floor
My ever-trembling fears I so love and adore
My haunted past, will protect me from more.
Escape now an option, pure light of day
How can I take it, No, here I shall stay
What if I were to fail, in the new day of light
My eye wide open though still blinded in sight.
I’m hurting, I’m hurting you scream and you shout
Yet wanting and yearning, you still can’t get out
The prison, the place that you have chosen to be
It’s this baron isolation that keeps you from me.
I cannot save you though try as I may
You chose in your choices its here you will stay
The fear in your person, your cowardly plight
Your eyes wide open, though both blinded in sight.
this was posted by “Prowler” I believe it belongs to him but it was very good so I thought I would share it here.
xapim: i walked a distance far, on sand , and weak, i saw this mirrage of camels and a band singing songs of windchime sounds....a voice said softly yet direct and motioned me to thy shores neglect. the stars their shown , no not fear, but a triumphant story , oh so dear......
xapim: john milton : my story to the sum of earthly bliss which i enjoy, and must confess to find in all things else delight indeed, but such as , used or not, works in the mind no change, nor desire-delicacies i mean of taste, sight, smell, herbs, fruits, and flowers, walks and the melody of birds. but here, far otherwise, transported i behold transported touch; here passion first i felt, commotion strange, in all enjoyments else superior and unmoved, here only weak against the charm of beauty's powerful glance.....