Poem Hunter: Poems - Poets - Poetry

In placid hours well-pleased we dream
Of many a brave unbodied scheme.
But form to lend, pulsed life create,
What unlike things must meet and mate:
A flame to melt- a wind to freeze;
Sad patience- joyous energies;
Humility- yet pride and scorn;
Instinct and study; love and hate;
Audacity- reverence. These must mate,
And fuse with Jacob's mystic heart,
To wrestle with the angel- Art.
...

In life
one is always
balancing

like we juggle our mothers
against our fathers

or one teacher
against another
(only to balance our grade average)

...

Across the pond, I saw a beautiful tree.
It stood out from an endless sea
It called to me, grinning and smiling
We laughed and danced, its bark shining
The leaves sparkled with happy dew
The wind in our sails harder blew

I was so glad I didn't even notice;
Stuck in my love filled hypnosis.
The steel that bound me: awestruck

...

By heaven and hell, and all the fools between them,
I will not die, nor sleep, nor wink my eyes,
But think myself into a god; old Death
Shall dream he has slain me, and I'll creep behind him,
Thrust off the bony tyrant from his throne
And beat him into dust. Or I will burst
Damnation's iron egg, my tomb, and come
Half damned, ere they make lightning of my soul,
And creep into thy carcase as thou sleepest
Between two crimson fevers. I'll dethrone
The empty skeleton, and be thy death,
A death of grinding madness. -- Fear me now;
I am a devil, not a human soul --
...

All actors look for them-the defining moments
When what a character does is what he is.
The script may say, He goes to the door
And exits or She goes out the door stage left.

But you see your fingers touching the doorknob,
Closing around it, turning it
As if by themselves. The latch slides
Out of the strike-plate, the door swings on its hinges,
And you're about to take that step

...

Under, howly, figure only,
Mist of bane and very true
Sizzle on the fury tonly
Thank my madness very rough;

Make my dancers slowly turning
Nick of time and sincerely
Raid the bounts and surely fining;
Inch, and don'ts would interfere


...

Message from returning Rama, Vanars to Ayodhya brought,
Righteous Bharat gave his mandate with a holy joy distraught:

'Let our city shrines and chaityas with a lofty music shake,
And ourpriests to bright Immortals grateful gifts and offerings make,

Bards, reciters of Puranas, minstrels versed in ancient song,
Women with their tuneful voices lays of sacred love prolong,

Let our queens and stately courtiers step in splendour and in state,
Chieftains with their marshalled forces range along the city gate,

And our white-robed holy Brahmans hymn and sacred mantras sing.
Offer greetings to our brother, render homage to our king!'

Brave Satrughna heard his elder and his mandate duly kept:
'Be our great and sacred city levelled, cleansed, and duly swept,

And the grateful earth be sprinkled with the water from the well,
Strewn with parchéd rice and offering and with flower of sweetest smell,

On each turret, tower, and temple let our flags and colours wave,
On the gates of proud Ayodhya plant Ayodhya'a banners brave,

Gay festoons of flowering creeper home and street and dwelling line,
And in gold and glittering garment let the gladdened city shine.

Elephants in golden trappings thousand chiefs and nobles bore.
Chariots, cars, and gallant chargers speeding by Sarayu's shore,


...

I would love to plant a seed
But these weeds are so rude
To let it stand.

I really love to get myself a farm
But this soil is so mean
To feed it fairly.

Now I'm willing to stand a city light in my home town
But the multitude is so cruel

...