First Time close Maria D. For you are my daughter someone is concerned timelessness. Falcon in blended @ Family Friend Poems Create a Link Click in the subject-matter bottle up unbefitting and ape the traditions (CTRL + C) Html Link ...My daughter, Violette, has a project where she has to read a poem to people and have them sign to say they heard her tell them the poem. She read it to a bunch of people, but she needs a bunch more to accomplish her goal. ...For My Daughter, two poems by David Ignatow. Post 348 - David Ignatow (1914 – 1997) was born in Brooklyn and spent most of his life in the New York City area. He tried for years to be a businessman, a career for which he was not suited. ...Readers who liked this poem also liked. Category » Subcategory » Poem Title. Family » Mother Daughter Poems » Precious Gift. Family » Mom Poems » A Poem For Mom. Family » Mother Daughter Poems » Mother, Daughter Bond ...She will often describes herself as “her father's daughter,” or “her mother's daughter,” each aspect of herself being brought forward in different poems. “…As I see you/ embracing me, in the mirror, I see I am/ my father as a woman. ...Poem Of The Day Monday, October 12, 2009. Category: Family Subcategory: Mother Daughter Poems. Votes: 40 Rating: 4.63. I wrote this poem for my first born, she was the first "reason" I had to keep on going. It's my way of telling her ...My name is Kathy Maher, a mother to two wonderful kids, and a daughter to a nice and classy lady. I hope you enjoy reading my blog. If this is your first time here, you might want to sign up below to receive new posts in your email. ...She hunches her shoulders / against the December chill / and pulls the long first drag / into her adolescent throat. / Paraphernalia surround her— / lighter, Camel pack, ashtray— / sacred tools in a ritual / taboo to the uninitiated. ...Little's collection of poems of 1792, The Poetical Works Of Janet Little, The Scotch Milkmaid, is dedicated to the only daughter of the fifth earl, the Right Honourable Flora, countess of Loudoun, then twelve years old (Paterson 83). ...Though she now lives in New York, Chin lived in Jamaica until she was 24 and is the daughter of a Chinese Jamaican man and a Black Jamaican woman. She is openly gay and often incorporates LGBT activism into her brash spoken word poetry ...
the English colonists that led to the American Rovolution? It needs to be in this format:
R
E
V
O
L
U
T
I
O
N
Each letter is a new stanza... I need to use at least 10 of these words:
patriot, loyalist, redcoats, sons of liberty, daughters of liberty, minutemen, hessians, boycott, propaganda, guerrilla warfare, Thomas Jefferson, John Adams, Samuel Adams, George Washington, King George 2nd, Thomas Paine, Ben Franklin, Marquis de Lafayette, Benedict Arnold, Francis Marion, Molly Pitcher, John Paul Jones, G.W. Howe, J. Burgyone, T. Gage, C, Cornwallis, H. Gates, Valley Forge, boston massecre, boston tea party
I won't write it word for word, I will change it in some way, so it's not like... copyright... thank you so much if you help!!
Spelling
My daughter plays on the floor
with plastic letters,
red, blue & hard yellow,
learning how to spell,
spelling,
how to make spells.
I wonder how many women
denied themselves daughters,
closed themselves in rooms,
drew the curtains
so they could mainline words.
A child is not a poem,
a poem is not a child.
there is no either/or.
However.
I return to the story
of the woman caught in the war
& in labour, her thighs tied
together by the enemy
so she could not give birth.
Ancestress: the burning witch,
her mouth covered by leather
to strangle words.
A word after a word
after a word is power.
At the point where language falls away
from the hot bones, at the point
where the rock breaks open and darkness
flows out of it like blood, at
the melting point of granite
when the bones know
they are hollow & the word
splits & doubles & speaks
the truth & the body
itself becomes a mouth.
This is a metaphor.
How do you learn to spell?
Blood, sky & the sun,
your own name first,
your first naming, your first name,
your first word.
can you analyze this stanza
Ancestress: the burning witch,
her mouth covered by leather
to strangle words.
A word after a word
after a word is power.
Sitting here, things in my head,
Of many nasty things I've said,
How people come and go,
When it's time, we never know.
Thinking of those lost in the past,
Friendships are meant to last,
But when they die and laid to rest,
You know you have lost the best.
Done many things in my life,
Had nightmares, been in strife,
Had pain, aches,seen things so gross,
None hurt as much as loss.
So if you have a loved one you hold dear,
Hold them tight and hold them near,
Cos when it's time for them to leave,
That time is when you will grieve.
But when that time of grief subdues,
And you no longer feel the blues,
You start to think of all the wasted years,
And then you break down in tears.
You want your friend, mate, buddy back,
You want to fight but no one to attack,
You blame god, yourself, everyone,
You loved them like a sister, brother, daughter or son.
The time to tell them you love them is now,
And now is the time to make that vow,
Nasty words are easy to say,
Just "I love you" is needed today.
To all my Family and friends and people who I care for "I LOVE YOU ALL"
I need two topics to write about. I am going to be using these topics to write similes. The poem below is the form that our poem should be in.
Willow and Ginkgo by Eve Merriam
The willow is like an etching,
Fine-lined against the sky.
Then ginkgo is like a crude sketch,
Hardly worthy to be signed.
The willow’s music is like a soprano,
Delicate and thin.
The ginkgo’s tune is like a chorus
With everyone joining in.
The willow is sleek as a velvet-nosed calf,
The ginkgo is leathery as an old bull.
The willow’s branches are like silken thread;
The ginkgo’s like stubby rough wool.
The willow is like a nymph with streaming hair;
Wherever it grows, there is green and gold and fair.
The willow dips to the water,
Protected and precious, like the king’s favorite daughter.
The ginkgo forces its way through gray concrete;
Like a city child, it grows up in the street.
Thrust against the metal sky,
Somehow it survives and even thrives.
My eyes feast upon the willow,
But my heart goes to the ginkgo.
If anyone has suggestions that would be great.
The Love Dance
I am in the centre of a thousand clover gazes, the flourishing vein-
On a dark, star fish pressed leaf. An ivy infant in a world of moss.
I slam my heels beneath the lantern kindled roof, shuttered from the rain,
And pass my elbow to a coal stained hand, we dance in the symmetry of a ribboned cross.
Amongst so many merry hearts, we sail down the wooden path,
Fringed with curls of laughter and pairs of withered hands that birth this love song.
Clapping together beside the trill weaving of the whistle's nectar laugh,
Side stepping down the clamour of captivated lovers, twisting through the throng.
I have fallen into the lover's spectrum of emerald waters, the lily spray on opal hearts,
Cleansing us both in a fall of moon dappled lace, frayed with the spark of rose thread.
The sun pours honey down onto our sweet, young souls. Blessing us in the sky's roaring arts,
For the sky is the sea and the sea is the sky! Dance with me! Dance until dead!
With music to embrace our shamrock hearts, we will delve into the waters-
The crystal marine sheets of thickened brine, o'er parchment fingers, locked in white spray.
I am the swiftly sailing maiden, the young heart of seven sun caressed daughters,
In this jubilation of brilliance I shall honour my father, who blessed me on this day!
Joyous, joyous are we beneath the bruise of thunder on a rolling sky,
Beneath a dew paled, amber cut sunrise that grapples for us in her locket of awe.
From the wondrous flames of autumn canopy, to the rippling waters of July,
I fell swiftly into this dance of love, bounding over the oak cut floor.
The poem needs to be 10 lines, and the even lines should rhyme.... My daughter brought it home and I can't figure one out! HELP PLEASE!!! :) Thank you!
Hi everyone could someone please help me try to understand the significance of this poem.
Passengers
At the gate, I sit in a row of blue seats
with the possible company of my death,
this sprawling miscellany of people—
carry-on bags and paperbacks—
that could be gathered in a flash
into a band of pilgrims on the last open road.
Not that I think
if our plane crumpled into a mountain
we would all ascend together,
holding hands like a ring of skydivers,
into a sudden gasp of brightness,
or that there would be some common place
for us to reunite to jubilize the moment,
some spaceless, pillarless Greece
where we could, at the count of three,
toss our ashes into the sunny air.
It's just that the way that man has his briefcase
so carefully arranged,
the way that girl is cooling her tea,
and the flow of the comb that woman
passes through her daughter's hair ...
and when you consider the altitude,
the secret parts of the engines,
and all the hard water and the deep canyons below ...
well, I just think it would be good if one of us
maybe stood up and said a few words,
or, so as not to involve the police,
at least quietly wrote something down.
I was just wondering if someone could help me understand the significance of this poem, and help answer a few simple questions about it.
1. What does the detail about the passengers ascending together like skydivers signify? What is it's effect?
2. What is the significance of the image of the pillarless Greece? What does it bring to the essay, and to what extent is it literal/figurative?
3. What senses does the image about the girl cooing her tea and the flow of the comb bring? Why do you think the speaker describes these people?
Thanks so much for helping me make sense of the poem...
A really close friend of mine is pregnant, were both 15, im a lad, shes a lass, obviously....
I wrote her this poem to say well done, and, im just wondering what kind of impression it gives off, im not too sure: ???
Congratulations Jodie!
I truly mean well done.
I can’t believe you’re now a mummy,
Oh god, how sweet, how fun!
A giant high-five to Jodie,
I really think you’re ‘swell’,
And what a perfect mum you’ll be,
I don’t care who i tell!
A huge well done to Jodie,
Big pats on the back and that,
Your brand new daughter Chloe,
Upon your bump she’s sat.
A big thumbs up to Jodie,
For really coping well,
For going through some awful times,
We all know it was hell.
Although I’m really happy,
And chuffed to bits for you,
I must confess my slight dismay,
No more bum to watch, its true.
But me aside for few last verse,
I can’t say it enough,
Your daughter such an amazing thing,
Who’s mother stayed so tough.
Such a lucky girl she is to have,
A mum who’s just like you,
I know that she’ll love you forever,
A little like me too...
I know you’ll love her dearly,
And be with her through all,
But hear me now when i offer this,
If you need any help at all.......
I know all mums get these words,
But with you I know its true,
Chloe will have the best life ever,
With your familly, mates and you.
Congratulations Jodie!
I truly mean well done.
I can’t believe you’re now a mummy,
Oh god, how sweet, how fun!
One of my really close friends is pregnant, we are both 15, and im male... Shes due in december, and i want to write her a poem, just a kinda congratulations thing, to say well done and how happy i am for her :)
Theres a few things that i want to put into it, but i just dont know what, heres what i have so far, and i want at least 3 more verses:
Congratulations Jodie!
I truly mean well done.
I can’t believe you’re now a mummy,
Oh god, how sweet, how fun!
A huge well done to Jodie,
Big pats on the back and that,
Your brand new daughter Chloe,
Upon your knee she’s sat.
A big thumbs up to Jodie,
For really coping well,
For going through some awful times,
We all know it was hell.
any ideas much appreciated :) thanks
Although I’m really happy,
And chuffed to bits for you,
I must confess my slight dismay,
No more bum to watch, its true.
But me aside for few last verse,
I can’t say it enough,
Your daughter such an amazing thing,
Who’s mother stayed so tough.
Such a lucky girl she is to have,
A mum who’s just like you,
I know that she’ll love you forever,
A little like me too...
I know you’ll love her dearly,
And be with her through all,
But hear me now when i offer this,
If you need any help at all.......
Congratulations Jodie!
I truly mean well done.
I can’t believe you’re now a mummy,
Oh god, how sweet, how fun!
Im 15, and a really good friend of mine is pregnant, also 15 (dont think ill of her, you dont know her) and, i want to write her a poem to put in the card for when her daughter is born, I want to say congratulations, and I want to express my happiness for her, shes been through some awful things in her pregnancy, and im really hoping that i can write a perfect poem for her... if you have any suggestions, i would really appreciate it...
this is what i have so far >>
Congratulations Jodie!
I truly mean well done.
I can’t believe you’re now a mummy,
Oh god, how sweet, how fun!
A huge well done to Jodie,
Big pats on the back and that,
Your brand new daughter Chloe,
Upon your knee she’s sat.
A big thumbs up to Jodie,
For really coping well,
For going through some awful times,
We all know it was hell.
My daughter first birthday is coming up and I want to include a small thank you poem with the goodie bags. I was thinking something like...Thank you all for coming, we sure hope you had fun...but I don't remember the rest of that, or even if I made it up, lol. Please help. Thanks!
Now that i have your attenton... xD
Okay so this is my gentle poem for my religion class in school. INEED TO ACE THIS! is this good.?
Gentleness
Yet a rose, so peaceful,
as each raindrop hits the bright petal silently, so gentle.
As the sky,
with the big blue texture,
as white clouds move across our skies,
so very gentle.
As a fish would swim,
in our deep beautiful sea,
in our crystal waters,
it shimmers beautifuly,
so very gentle half of our world is.
I am writing a poem for English, but this stanza is giving me the shizz. I am writing a poem as a kindof spinoff to the rime of the ancient mariner. Please help
I didn't know at that time
That the dog I hit was famed.
The daughter of the Presidents dog
Was dead and unclaimed. “
___________________________
“Are you an escaped criminal?”
The man questioned softly.
“Oh no, just listen to what I say”
something something something that rhymes with softly
__________________________
“Roaring down the boulevard
Happy with what I had done,
Up a hill, down a hill
Towards the morning sun.
it is the middle stanza I need help with. You can change it how ever you need, It just needs to be 4 lines, 2 and 4 rhyming. It has to be about the guy telling the story being interrupted by the guy he is telling the story too, and he is asking if he escaped from jail. If you know the ancient mariner, it is the part where the wedding guest is asking the mariner if he is a ghost.
THANKS.
Shell Shock Venus, aborted at sea.
Her youthful uniform torn open and free.
Floating where the whirlpools swirl
Men came diving for her pearl.
They'd scour her surfaces,
She'd dredge up their deep.
In a chaotic universe, shallow and sweet.
And as the merman hurled
Woman went careening from the girl.
And no line of questioning
Could penetrate her nerve.
But something was tapping her reserve.
Ashes of innocence, splinters of dreams.
Her anger in residence, ripping the seams
And petrifying fast;
She anchored to that mast.
Through waves of ecstasy
They'd compromise
But something was lacking in her eyes...
Reptiles in water, a goddess in heat.
We dreamt of a daughter, Venus and me.
Floating where the whirlpools swirl
Men came diving for her pearl...
Mama and Daughter
By: Langston Hughes
Mama, please brush off my coat.
I’m going down the street
Where’re you going, daughter?
To see my sugar-sweet.
Who is your sugar, honey?
Turn around! Let me brush behind.
He is that young man, mama,
I can’t get off my mind.
Daughter once upon a time-
Let me brush the hem-
Your father, yes he was the one!
I felt like that about him.
But many a long year ago
He up and went his way-
I hope that wild young son-of-a-gun
Rots in hell today!
Mama he couldn’t be young still.
He was young yesterday
He was young when he- Turn around!
So I can brush you back, I say!
im doing a report and i need help.
I'm planning my daughter's first birthday, I'm starting early it's not until feb. Her name is Kalysta (ka-list-a) Lee and the theme is going to be precious princess. I desperately need help with the wording for an invitation poem..any suggestions would be greatly appreciated!
my daughter want to sing vallathol poems for a competition . please help me to download his poems(lyrics&audio)free.which poem is good for recitation
It's bedtime at the okay corral & I wrote this in a hurry. It is a rough, rough draft, so...
The drummer boy kept the beat
LEFT, right, LEFT, right
Along with the soldiers' marching feet
LEFT, right, LEFT, right
The sound was thunderous on the street
LEFT, right, LEFT, right
History again was about to repeat
LEFT, right, LEFT!
The army was marching down the street
To go to a war that no one could beat
And some of them going would not come back
And ones that did would be broken and cracked
And kiss the girls and make them cry
You're off to war and about to die
Salute the flag and hold it high
Kiss your mother and wave goodbye
LEFT, right, LEFT
They'll put you in a new body bag
Drape your coffin with a nice, new flag
Then send your medals to your Mom and Dad
To replace the son or daughter they had
LEFT, right, LEFT!
I am very patriotic and support the troops, but...
1. What, according to Beowulf, is better than mourning a death?
A. Celebrating a birth
B. Avenging a death
C. Drinking one’s sorrows away
D. Making peace with one’s enemies
2. Beowulf fights Grendel's mother
A. in Herot
B. in an underwater battle hall
C. at the dragon's tower
D. at the bottom of the ocean
3. Beowulf reflects the following values of his society except
A. compassion for monsters
B. courageous acts
C. loyalty to kings and men
D. bragging
4. Beowulf defeats Grendel’s mother by using a giant, magical
A. sword
B. dagger
C. catapult
D. bow and arrow
5. At the first banquet, who taunts Beowulf about a swimming match with Breca?
A. Unferth
B. Wiglaf
C. Hygelac
D. Heardred
6. After Grendel is defeated, what follows that brings further sorrow to King Hrothgar?
A. Grendel’s mother kills Hrothgar’s son.
B. Beowulf is killed fighting a dragon
C. Grendel’s mother kills Hrothgar’s best friend.
D. Grendel’s mother attacks the Geats.
7. What is a scop?
A. a poet
B. a warrior
C. a Danish king
D. a lake
8. How does Hrothgar know of Beowulf?
A. Beowulf once proposed to his daughter.
B. Beowulf had gained a widespread reputation after slaying a dragon.
C. He had heard tales of his bravery.
D. Hrothgar was friends with Beowulf’s father.
9. Who is Beowulf's father?
A. Ecgtheow
B. Hrothgar
C. Wulfgar
D. Wealhtheow
10. How does Grendel respond when he realizes Beowulf is able to fight back?
A. joyously
B. excitedly
C. indifferently
D. fearfully
11. King Hrothgar's hall has been deserted for twelve years because
A. It became infested with evil spirits.
B. He never finished it.
C. Beowulf’s warriors took it over.
D. Grendel was attacking it at night.
12. The outcome of Beowulf's battle with Grendel is that
A. Beowulf’s arm is torn off and he dies later.
B. Grendel’s arm is torn off and he dies later.
C. Grendel is killed immediately.
D. Beowulf is killed immediately.
13. What is the name of Hrothgar’s great mead-hall?
A. Herot
B. Wergild
C. Hrurting
D. Naegling
14. Beowulf's deeds require tremendous
A. courage
B. humility
C. wisdom
D. trust
15. Which character is descended from Shield Sheafson?
A. Beowulf
B. Wiglaf
C. Ecgtheow
D. Hrothgar
16. Grendel’s mother lives
A. in the woods
B. on an island
C. in a lake
D. in the dungeon
17. Beowulf believes that the outcome of his battles with Grendel and Grendel’s mother will be determined by
A. God and fate
B. the needs of his people
C. the strength of his body
D. the strength of his will
18. Beowulf (the poem, not the character) reflects the idea that the battle between good and evil
A. has bee won by evil
B. eded with Beowulf's death
C. is never-ending
D. has been won by good
19. Who guides Beowulf to the dragon’s barrow?
A. Wulfgar
B. the thief
C. the slave-girl
D. Hygd
20. Who is queen of the Geats?
A. Wealhtheow
B. Modthryth
C. Unferth
D. Hygd
21. After Beowulf defeats Grendel’s mother, how long does he rule over the Geats?
A. 3 years
B. 10 years
C. 20 years
D. 50 years
22. How many men does it take to carry Grendel’s head back to the mead-hall?
A. 2
B. 4
C. 20
D. 100
23. The fiery dragon is angry because a fugitive slave stole what from him?
A. flagon/cup
B. sword
C. ring
D. shield
24. From whom is Grendel descended?
A. Satan
B. Cain
C. Judas
D. Ecgtheow
25. Who comes to Beowulf’s aid in the dragon fight and then becomes the future Geat king?
A. Wiglaf
B. Hygelac
C. Heardred
D. Aeschere
26. The mythological character that founded Hrothgar’s kingdom was named
A. Guthlaf
B. Healfdene
C. Scyld Scefing
D. Queen Modthrytho
27. The main struggle in Beowulf is between
A. courgae and cowardice
B. love and hate
C. good and evil
D. peace and war
28. Who is the father of Shield Sheafson?
A. Beowulf
B. Hrothgar
C. Grendel
D. Sheafson is an orphan
29. Beowulf defeats Grendel by ripping off its
A. head
B. claw
C. tongue
30. Where do the Geats place Beowulf’s Barrow?
A. In Grendel’s swamp
B. in the dragon's lair
C. on the palace temple
D. on a cliff overlooking the sea
At least every two years, we'd
trek across country, always from
coast to coast....why the Navy did that,
I don't know, never did we move
to a state nearby.
In the backseat of the car with
two other siblings, we saw every
gas station, every Dairy Queen
and every field of corn in the country,
nice straight rows of corn,
look how straight those rows are,
my dad would say.
From point A to point B, we
never strayed, unless he took extra leave,
then we would make a beeline to
Traverse City, Michigan, to Long Lake
and a week in a rented cabin.
Hearts Delight was our favorite,
we always tried to get that one.
And, it was the one we got that summer
when my mom decided to return to us
after her affair with my best friend's father.
She didn't come back because she
no longer loved him, nor because
she realized she still loved my dad,
no, her lover of nine months had dumped her,
decided to return to his family, and she,
she had no where else to go, so,
she came back "for the children."
I'll never forget that day. I was only
eleven, it's been almost fifty years, but
I still see her walking up the path to us.
She had on black Capri's and a sleeveless
black knit shirt with six huge white buttons,
the size of silver dollars, down the front.
Being the youngest, I ran out to hug her.
Mom didn't like being touched, she never
was a hugger, something I always respected, but,
today, today I felt I'd be forgiven. I was so damn
glad to see my mom. For many reasons.
So, I ran right out there and threw my arms
around her frame. It was the coldest hug I'd ever
had, and since that day, I've only had one other
that cold, oddly enough, it was from
my own daughter.
But, that's another story.
All I felt were the bones in her back. Her arms were
so thin, they felt foreign to me. Where had my
mother gone? Was this all that was left of her?
That night, in "Hearts Delight," we put on
the record of "The King and I." My brother
was Yul Brynner and I, Debra Kerr, together we
waltzed to "Shall We Dance?" to entertain
the family. We hammed it up and mimicked
our characters, our performance worthy of
awards. Well, everyone thought so, but Mom.
She just sat, and stared, and occasionally cried.
We stayed a family to the very end, but never
returned to Long Lake. Our hearts lost any
delight.
moving on in th past!
got to go forward just wanna go back
teen years are supose to be the best but are the worst
a single father no longer alone
a daughter wishing to go back but to late in time
a mother thats gone and a girl who mises her life
memories hat canot be brought back
a girl that needs to move on but stays in th past
I wrote this some time ago, don't think I ever posted it, though:
IMPRESSIONS
You should have been a little less firm when you yelled and watched him turn away as you cried and fell asleep, only to wake to the telephone ringing. "This is the sheriff, your son has died, crashed into a tree while out for a ride." You remember the moments before his passing and now you realize what they mean by impressions are lasting. It's been 10 years since he's been gone, you finally realize, he's never coming home.
You never should have done what you did, but when she cried you were full of rage, you saw the blood and the ripped up blouse as she cried to you for help, you didn't know until the very last second it was his fault, and she was unprotected. You told her just before she left, don't gone too long, that you will not regret, but the fear in her eyes is what hurt you most as you stood there and told her to go, run away and it's your fault then the day came when she never came home.
We never realize how much we hurt those we love until it's too late, so take this time to love. Love your children with all your might never let them leave your sight, be overprotective don't be ashamed, you are a mother or a father just the same. Sometimes it's hard to make a good impression but remember all those who never get the impression, that they are loved and they are protected.
Don't let it be your son or daughter, don't let them feel neglected.
He was just a shy young man, didn't want to go to the party, but you forced him and as he left you didn't realize that it wasn't that kind of party.
You didn't know the hurt you caused as you drank and told her to go; she was too young; she did not understand what it meant to be in love with a man.
These are the things that hurt children most, parents who don't see the hurt that is caused most, not by a bully or an overbearing teacher, but by a mother or father with a cross to bear.
©Copyright June 3, 2007 by Danielle N. Calhoun
Thank you sara f and Christy. I have a keen mind for observing things, and although I am happy to say I have not experienced life such as what I wrote about, hearing about things like this just brings to mind things in me that I like to let out when I can.
My little darling came to me July 30th & recently passed on October 11 at 2mos.12days old. I am really in need of some beautiful quotes, poems, sayings or anything...about maybe the loss of a baby/child.. or about angels.. I love angels especially now that I know my daughter is one of them.
Can someone explain me what this "Song of the flower" meant? this is my grandma's favorite poem.. pls help mee!!!
I am a kind word uttered and repeated
By the voice of Nature;
I am a star fallen from the
Blue tent upon the green carpet.
I am the daughter of the elements
With whom Winter conceived;
To whom Spring gave birth; I was
Reared in the lap of Summer and I
Slept in the bed of Autumn.
At dawn I unite with the breeze
To announce the coming of light;
At eventide I join the birds
In bidding the light farewell.
The plains are decorated with
My beautiful colors, and the air
Is scented with my fragrance.
As I embrace Slumber the eyes of
Night watch over me, and as I
Awaken I stare at the sun, which is
The only eye of the day.
I drink dew for wine, and hearken to
The voices of the birds, and dance
To the rhythmic swaying of the grass.
I am the lover's gift; I am the wedding wreath;
I am the memory of a moment of happiness;
I am the last gift of the living to the dead;
I am a part of joy and a part of sorrow.
But I look up high to see only the light,
And never look down to see my shadow.
This is wisdom which man must learn.
a park and a pond--
old grey haired man with sad hunch
and attractive thin Iranian looking daughter
with arm in a sling
have three dogs
and they play Frisbee.
dogs are frenetic and wild
barkin and yappin
with their tongues all a’flappin
as dogs sometimes do.
another family walks up now
gramma grampa mom and
her little daughter maybe three years
and they’re strollin by
probably doesn’t matter what
they’re saying
they’re havin a ball you can
see it in their faces.
little girl walks with a wobble
like on a fleshy pair of stilts
a fresh learned talent
not so graceful.
well one dog who is white
gets very excited, what with
the new prospective scent
thrown into the mix
and he races up to put a few
words in still barkin
still yappin
at a full mad dash
and what do you know
he bowls the baby girl right over!
I'm trying to write a thesis paper and im trying to include how she would write about her brother, i've already googled and searched and searched, but I can't find anything! I usually get answers like 'she only dedicated her work to her daughter or students' but I know she wrote a poem for her brother to come home safely... I just dont know which one.
I need a touching inspirational poem to a friend that lost 2 children......the poem will be for her and her daughter that is still alive and having a hard time dealing. This is for a memorial...thanks!
'X' is a legendary epic poet and said to be the author of 'Y' and 'Z'. 'A' which is also a measuring unit of 'B' first appears in the poems of ' X'.'A' is also the daughter of 'C' which always carries a staff in his hand and is related with 'D' as her brother and husband both.Identify X,Y,Z,A,B,C,D.
Who is related with Helen as her brother and husband both?
....what would u do if u found out ur teenage daughter cut, and what would u do if you found many poems about suicide on her laptop, would u be angry, go crazy on them, be ashamed of them... or just feel sad inside?? .... would u be happy if they told you straight out??? ... or what if they hide it from u, and u found out via a school guidance counselor??? what would you do?? what would ur initiale reaction be?
i'm not a parent... just my parents are crazy... they will put me on the streets
I need this paragraph checked for punctuation please. My 11 year old daughter has been out sick with the flu and homework has been sent home for her. She's a bit confused and I've never been good with Punctuation so could use some help, helping her. Thanks in advance!
While I was playing basketball I had a terrific idea for a poem. The first part would have the rhythm of dribbling and the second part would have the soaring grace of a great leap when the game was over. I dashed back to my locker. I grabbed my favorite pen with green ink and quickly wrote eight short lines. After I read the lines to myself I added two long lines. Then I read the poem to my friend Antoine. Antoine said I should submit my poem to the school newspaper, because it was so clever. Who knows maybe I’ll be a published author?
Like a pool of midnight water
everything is inky black
and for a while I'm no-one's daughter
and I'm never coming back.
All around me there is space so dark
that I can't see my hands
but the darkness doesn't scare me
No one has to understand
that I'm a goddess on a shining moon
a rod between my fingers
I cast out into velvet
and fish for stars; I want to linger
because it's peaceful here, and quiet
and my dreams are all my own.
The place where I can sleep and rest
is the place where I am home.
Thank you all who answered. I'm fifteen.*
Divorces
Do you remember the time at one
of your quiet restaurant lunches
when you were SURE-
I mean when your ears were just
as sure as your silversweet tongue
was sure that the soup was over salted
(because you always were
really sensitive really
tongue ears nose fingers almost
everything) and your father said
something that well wasn't, it just
wasn't well, you know-and
it was so funny you could have held
your breath for years waiting
to say something because you knew
like the soup WAS over salted
you knew he lied.
And all of the people laughed
even the brotherly foreign
maitre d'...
and then suddenly
you got scared because his eyes
didn't lie
and though you were
his beautiful well-behaved daughter
you were very, very far away and
could see.
Thank you for you input. That sounds very good, I was also thinking about how the writer may be trying to express that nothing is as it seems. I don't really know though, I have 1000 ideas but cannot seem to pull it all together with this poem. Who do you think the speaker is?? Her... or the mother perhaps??
Where would you place the correct pauses in this poem?
Im sorry if my english is not right, it's not my medium language.
so, where would you place the pauses(/) and (//) in this poem.
Like the Molave
I.
Not yet, rizal, not yet. Sleep not in peace:
There are a thousand waters to be spanned;
There are a thousand mountains to be crossed;
There are a thousand crosses to be borne.
Our shoulders are not strong; our sinews are
Grown flaccid with dependence, smug with ease
Under another’s wing. Rest not in peace;
Not yet, Rizal, not yet. The land has need
Of young blood-and, what younger than your own,
Forever spilled in the great name of freedom,
Forever oblate on the altar of
The free? Not you alone, Rizal. O souls
And spirits of the martyred brave, arise!
Arise and scour the land! Shed once again
Your willing blood! Infuse the vibrant red
Into our thin anaemic veins; until
We pick up your Promethean tools and, strong,
Out of the depthless matrix of your of your faith
In us, and on the silent cliffs of freedom,
We carve for all time your marmoreal dream!
Until our people, seeing, are become
Like the molave, firm, resilent, staunch,
Rising on the hillside, unafraid,
Strong in its own fibre, yes, like the molave!
II.
The youth of the land is a proud and noble appellation,
The youth of the land is a panoramic poem,
The youth of the land is a book of paradoxes,
The youth of the land is a pat on one’s back,
The youth of the land is a huge canvas of spectral colors,
The youth of the land is an epic tragedy-comedy,
The youth of the land is a crashing symphony,
The youth of the land is a child grown old in tears,
The youth of the land is an old man laughing through a perpetual infancy;
A bastard child of a thousand dreams, masquerading and dancing,
The youth of the land.
III.
We, the Filipinos of today, are soft,
Easy-going, parasitic, frivolous,
Inconstant, indolent, inefficient.
Would you have me sugarcoat you?
I would be happier to shower praise upon
My countrymen…but let us be realists…
Let us strip ourselves
Youth of the land, you are a bitter pill to swallow.
This is a testament of the youth borne on the four pacific winds;
This is a parable of seed four ways sown in stone;
This is a chip not only on the President’s shoulder:
The nation of our fathers shivers with longing expectation.
Shall we, sons and daughters, brother youths of the land,
Walk up new and forever knock the flirting chip off?
Or will the nation of our fathers be forever and forever
Lighting candles in the wind?
I sit silently by an unknown river
Caressed by the perfect summer temperature
Watching my unreal daughter
Wildly dance among so many fireflies
In a purple dress
I am at rest.
And I might be on the back of butterfly wings
Morphing slowly like clouds
Drifting upon the solstice
Dissecting the machine of time
Finding out just how much is alive
I open my eyes wide
Consciously trying to take it all inside
But it took what was inside out
And I felt filled for the first time
I know my sailboat could easily run aground
But to forsake this I would never forget
I don’t doubt what I do is dangerous
But it slays the dragon of regret
And keeps me far from the valley of ignorance
These trips let me at rest
Wow, the ending is supposed to be "These trips keep me at rest" I'm not sure how that typo happened, my bad.
"nighean, nighean!"
she sits by
the wooden table
playing with
a spinning wheel,
which darts
across
the cobbled floor;
and then to her surprise
the door opens
and the fisherman
shouts "nighean, nighean!"
and the little girl
in her white cotton dress
smiles
and the sun begins
to rest upon the clouds above;
and from the harbour wall
we hear
the clamour of boats
and the cutting out of engines,
while
lobsters, sea trout and salmon
are iced in boxes
and left by the side of the pier.
nighean- Gaelic for daughter
I have to do a bio poem for a character in the book Their Eyes were watching God by Zora Neale Hurston.
Line 1: First Name
Line 2: Four traits that describe character
Line 3: Relative (brother, sister, daughter, etc.) of _______.
Line 4: Lover of _____ (list three things or people)
Line 5: Who feels _____ (three items)
Line 6: Who needs _____ (three items)
Line 7: Who fears _____ (three items)
Line 8: Who gives _____ (three items)
Line 9: Who would like to see _____ (three items)
Line 10: Resident of _____
Line 11: Last Name
I know how to write poetry and all, I just haven't gotten as far in the book as I should so I don't have enough details... If anyone could give me the info, not write the poem, I just the need the specific info requested about Janie Crawford.
Janie
Strong, Independent, Logical, Good
Relatives?
Lover of many husbands, friends, and herself
Who feels un-satisfied at times, smarter than the rest, and different
Who needs stability in her life, spiritual mending, and security
Who fears the past catching up with her, losing love, ?
Who gives good food to her friends, love, ?
Who would like to see ?, ?, ?
Resident of Eatonville
Crawford
actually i have not finished writing the song yet and i really want it to be a Ballad
but i just want to hear some opinions before i go on.........
I was inspired to write it by two things:
the story "khalil the Heretic" by Khalil Gibran
and the movie "Braveheart"
Behind that hill,
High into mountains
Or deep in sea
Will i ever find you
Across the land,
Around the globe,
Retrace the Echo
Thro' time and space
From the north
Comes the Cry
Rejoiced to hear
Your name again
So hear me, oh Daughter of Athens
Save me, oh Sister of Rome
Teach me, oh Bride of Jesus
Help me, oh Beloved of Mohammed
To be continued..............
(Finally i should signal that the last four verses are taken from the aforesaid story)
Thank you guys
High Harry: as i said this song was inspired by the Movie braveheart and if you ever watched it, surely you would get the idea.
for exemple:
By "From the north
Comes the Cry"
I am referring to William Wallace when he screamed Freedom at the end of the movie.
i hope you get it now
Mello1: what do you mean by "at this time when so many are angry at differences when they shouldn't be"
eleuth: you are Farsi aren't you?
A listening ear
A shoulder to cry on
Words of advice and comfort flow from her lips
She helps me
She loves me
She makes me feel good
She was the one who asked me to.
"There was such speed in her little body,
And such lightness in her footfall,
It is no wonder her brown study Astonishes us all
Her wars were bruited in our high window.
We looked among orchard trees and beyond
Where she took arms against her shadow,
Or harried unto the pond
The lazy geese, like a snow cloud
Dripping their snow on the green grass,
Tricking and stopping, sleepy and proud,
Who cried in goose, Alas,
For the tireless heart within the little
Lady with rod that made them rise
From their noon apple-dreams and scuttle
Goose-fashion under the skies!
But now go the bells, and we are ready,
In one house we are sternly stopped
To say we are vexed at her brown study,
Lying so primly propped. "
What kind of a house stops them from being angry? I don't really understand this part.
Life is like an ice cream
Enjoy it before it’s gone
Until it’s totally done with
Have fun from dusk to dawn
Life is like sour skittles
Sweet, sour, and bitter all inside
With tasteless and tasteful memories
Full of both hurt and pride
Life isn’t like a story
You won’t know the end till it’s done
There really is no guide book
On how to live for fun
Life’s sweet and fun and bitter
You’ll meet people fun and nice
You’ll also meet some people
Whose hearts are cold as ice
When you go out in the real world
Life can be a game to win
It can also be a drama
That will rise above the din
So even when you’re a child
Enjoy life to its best
Don’t bother getting so worried
Don’t waste time being stressed
Just have a lot of fun
And make your life worthwhile
And don’t be afraid to let people in
Always save for everyone a smile
That’s how to live life well
Good luck to you, I say
Enjoy life to its fullest
And do something special every day
I have my own angel
She may not look the part
But believe me, she’s amazing
She’s kind and very smart
If you ever saw my angel
You’d be unable to tell
She has no wings or halo
But she’s rescued me from hell
Every single morning
She made me feel so good
With a warm and ready smile
She helped as best she could
She was so supportive
She said I could come to her
If I ever needed anything
Or if I ever was unsure
She gave compliments with ease
In a kind and caring way
She gave me a reason
To continue on each day
My angel helped me so much
She’s done the world for me
She’s gave my life a reason
And I thank her gratefully
I have my own angel
She may not look the part
But believe me, she’s amazing
She’s kind and very smart
If you ever saw my angel
You’d be unable to tell
She has no wings or halo
But she’s rescued me from hell
Every single morning
She made me feel so good
With a warm and ready smile
She helped as best she could
She was so supportive
She said I could come to her
If I ever needed anything
Or if I ever was unsure
She gave compliments with ease
In a kind and caring way
She gave me a reason
To continue on each day
My angel helped me so much
She’s done the world for me
She’s gave my life a reason
And I thank her gratefully
Trembling in fear
She looks into my eyes
Pleading in vain
I see through her disguise
But I cannot help her
I stay silent once more
I’m ashamed but do nothing
Life goes on as before
I turn my back on this child
Though I know she needs me
I try to ignore it
Though it’s so plain to see
But if something should happen
I know that I’ll regret
Turning aside like the others
And not doing my best
Life is so precious
Then why is it so tough?
No matter what I do
It’s never enough
Before anyone says anything, my daughter is fourteen and she's not depressed; she told me she was reading something and was just inspired to write.
My enemy attacks
He is ruthless as can be
He uses all his power
To bring down and destroy me
My enemy is heartless
He cares for no other
His unpredictable rages
Come one after another
My enemy is cunning
He knows how to get his way
He can convince anyone
To do what he may say
My enemy is a monster
He tries to control me
And sometimes I can’t help it
I give in and let him be
My enemy is evil
He causes me to sin
Yet sometimes the true enemy
Is the enemy within
Before anyone says anything, she's fourteen and she's not depressed; she just read something somewhere and was inspired.
She sleeps so uneasy
She’s lost her innocence
I reach out my hand to touch her
Her body is so tense
She starts and then wakes up
Her eyes are wide with fear
“Shh, baby, it’s just me,” I say,
“You’re safe and I am here.”
“What are you doing in my room?”
I can see she’s still upset
I have reminded her of things
That she’d rather forget
“You know I’d never hurt you.
You know you’re safe with me.
I’ll always protect you
From whatever it may be.”
I feel her relaxing
She looks up solemnly
“I know that I’m safe here.
I know you’ll protect me.
“I’ve been hurt and hurt again
I’ve been betrayed and used
But now my life is changing
And all this thanks to you.”
And before anyone says anything, it isn't about her; she was inspired by something she read.
We are having a poem contest at school. I think its the same as the speaking contest, whoever is best at speeching is chosen and those people challenge off to see who wins. Anyway i have a short one, or a very long one. I already know the Short one off by heart and its Wednesday that we go back to school, but i got my mums opinion and she likes the long one better. I geuss i do to, because it keeps people thinking. Here is the short one:
Ladies and Jellyspoons, hobos and tramps
crosseyed mosquitos and bow legged ants
I come before you
to stand behind you
and tell you something i no nothing about
Next thursday which is good friday
their will be a mothers meeting
for fathers only
wear your best clothes
if you havent any
come if you cant
if you can, stay at home
admission is free so
pay at the door
pull up a seat
and sit on the floor
it makes no difference where you sit,
the man in the gallery's sure to spit.
And heres the long one:
Many, many years ago
when I was twenty-three,
I got married to a widow
who was a pretty as could be.
This widow had a grown-up daughter
who had hair of red.
My father fell in love with her,
and soon the two were wed.
This made my dad my son-in-law
and change my very life.
My daughter was my mother,
for she was my father's wife.
To complicate the matters worse,
although it brought me joy,
I soon became the father
of a bouncing baby boy.
My little baby then became
a brother-in-law to dad.
And so became by uncle,
though it made me very sad.
For if he was my uncle,
then that also made him brother
To the widow's grown up daughter who,
of course, was my step-mother
Father's wife then had a son,
who kept them on the run.
And he became my grandson,
for he was my daughter's son.
My wife is now my mother's mother
and it makes me blue,
Because, although she is my wife,
she's my grandma too.
If my wife is my grandmother,
then I am her grandchild
And every time I think of it,
it simply drives me wild.
For now I have become
the strangest case you ever saw,
As the husband of my grandmother,
I am my own grandpa!
Bonus points (thumbs up) if you tell my who the author of the long one was?
And if you are wondering, we don't malke up the poems, they have to be written by real poets.
THANKYOU!!
My enemy attacks
He is ruthless as can be
He uses all his power
To bring down and destroy me
My enemy is heartless
He cares for no other
His unpredictable rages
Come one after another
My enemy is cunning
He knows how to get his way
He can convince anyone
To do what he may say
My enemy is a monster
He tries to control me
And sometimes I can’t help it
I give in and let him be
My enemy is evil
He causes me to sin
Yet sometimes the true enemy
Is the enemy within
Trembling in fear
She looks into my eyes
Pleading in vain
I see through her disguise
But I cannot help her
I stay silent once more
I’m ashamed but do nothing
Life goes on as before
I turn my back on this child
Though I know she needs me
I try to ignore it
Though it’s so plain to see
But if something should happen
I know that I’ll regret
Turning aside like the others
And not doing my best
Life is so precious
Then why is it so tough?
No matter what I do
It’s never enough
I am your puppet
I must do as you say
You pull my strings
And I must obey
I am your china doll
You turn the key
And I dance to the music
For all to see
I am your pawn
In your own chess game
You take the credit
But I take the blame
I am your plaything
Until you get bored
Then what will my pain
Have been for?
I wish I could escape you
But the rope is tightly wound
I am lost inside myself
Will I ever be found?
I hide in the light
Yet no one sees me
You hold me captive
I will never be free
She's fourteen. She writes all the poems and posts them on my account. :P
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