A poem A DAY keeps tension away!!

bonddonraj

MP Guru
What if a day, or a month, or a yeare
Crown thy delights with a thousand sweet contentings?
Cannot a chance of a night or an howre
Crosse thy desires with as many sad tormentings?
Fortune, honor, beauty, youth
Are but blossoms dying;
Wanton pleasure, doating love,
Are but shadowes flying.
All our joyes are but toyes,
Idle thoughts deceiving;
None have power of an howre
In their lives bereaving.

Earthes but a point to the world, and a man
Is but a point to the worlds compared centure:
Shall then a point of a point be so vaine
As to triumph in a seely points adventure?
All is hassard that we have,
There is nothing biding;
Dayes of pleasure are like streames
Through faire meadowes gliding.
Weale and woe, time doth goe,
Time is ever turning:
Secret fates guide our states,
Both in mirth and mourning.
 
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bonddonraj

MP Guru
April showers clear my body and mind
Refreshing my vision of everything
Their satisfying beauty is so kind
Prevents my flight with her avid soaking

April showers water my barren soul
Inspire me to grow in confidence
They fill with emotion my empty hull
They meld together my broken remnants

April showers need their love requited
Which they deserve, but my selfishness holds
Deep in my shallow heart which they lighted
This foolishness in time I must resolve

I confess, I don’t grasp tight what I see
Ignorant to what’s right in front of me
_________________
"If you have to ask, you'll never know
 

bonddonraj

MP Guru
The Soldier
Rupert Brooke, 1887-1915

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If I should die, think only this of me:
That there's some corner of a foreign field
That is for ever England. There shall be
In that rich earth a richer dust concealed;
A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware,
Gave, once her flowers to love, her ways to roam,
A body of England's, breathing English air,
Washed by the rivers, blessed by the suns of home.
And think, this heart, all evil shed away,
A pulse in the eternal mind, no less
Gives somewhere back the thoughts by England given;
Her sights and sounds; dreams happy as her day;
And laughter, learnt of friends; and gentleness,
In hearts a peace, under an English heaven.
 

bonddonraj

MP Guru
IF

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!'

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!
 

bonddonraj

MP Guru
Yours and yours and yours
Leo Marks, 1920 -


The life that I have
Is all that I have
And the life that I have
Is yours.

The love that I have
Of the life that I have
Is yours and yours and yours.

A sleep I shall have
A rest I shall have
Yet death will be but a pause.

For the peace of my years
In the long green grass
Will be yours and yours and yours.
 

bonddonraj

MP Guru
William Shakespeare, 1564-1616

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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 sometime declines,
By chance or natures changing course untrimm'd:
But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest,
Nor shall death brag thou wandrest in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou growest,
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee
William Shakespeare, 1564-1616
 

bonddonraj

MP Guru
Let me die a young man's death
not a clean and inbetween
the sheets holywater death
not a famous-last-words
peaceful out of breath death

When I'm 73
and in constant good tumour
may I be mown down at dawn
by a bright red sports car
on my way home
from an allnight party

Or when I'm 91
with silver hair
and sitting in a barber's chair
may rival gangsters
with hamfisted tommyguns
burst in and give me a short back and insides

Or when I'm 104
and banned from the Cavern
may my mistress
catching me in bed with her daughter
and fearing for her son
cut me up into little pieces
and throw away every piece but one

Let me die a young man's death
not a free from sin tiptoe in
candle wax and waning death
not a curtains drawn by angels borne
'what a nice way to go' death
 

bonddonraj

MP Guru
THE DAFFODILS
William Wordsworth 1770-1850

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I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host of golden daffodils,
Beside the lake, beneath the trees
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced, but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:-
A Poet could not but be gay
In such a jocund company!
I gazed - and gazed - but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought.

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills
And dances with the daffodils.
 

bonddonraj

MP Guru
Choosing Names
Author unknown

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When God had made the earth and sky
the flowers and the trees,
He then made all the animals
the fish, the birds and bees.
And when at last He'd finished
not one was quite the same.
He said, "I'll walk this world of mine
and give each one a name."

And so He traveled far and wide
and everywhere He went,
a little creature followed Him
until it's strength was spent.

When all were named upon the earth
and in the sky and sea,
the little creature said,
"Dear Lord,
there's not one left for me."

Kindly, the Father said to him,
"I've left you to the end.
I've turned my own name back to front
and called you dog, My friend."
 

bonddonraj

MP Guru
She walks in Beauty
Lord Byron 1788-1824

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She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that's best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellow'd to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impair'd the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o'er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.

And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win. the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!
 

bonddonraj

MP Guru
The groves still green and growing,
The Juniper and Oak,
The Willow and the Rowan,
Still wear their leafy cloaks,
The Holly and the Hawthorn,
All wrapped in a wreath,
Where the old bark is peeling,
There is new wood beneath,
The Spindle and Vine,
The branches all entwined,
In the old sacred grove,
We gather tonight,
For it was written in the stars,
And bowed upon the breeze,
A tale braided in the branches,
And the color of the leaves,
From a fallen Rosewood bow,
A harp sings a fable,
From the wood of a Willow,
A rocker for a cradle,
Oh the arms of the Ash,
The winged fruit,
Where the old tree has fallen,
New life takes root,
The Elder and the Pine,
The branches all entwined,
In the old sacred grove,
We gather tonight,
In honor of the queen of leaves,
And her green man in the trees,
A tale braided in the branches,
And the color of the leaves...
 

bonddonraj

MP Guru
really thanx gaurav i was thinkin these sections are going in vain ... but some like you read them .......i feel one must be literary sound ...remember in 2003 iim pland to give poem as an RC just because corperate world said that iim aluminai can not understand literature...
 

gaurav200x

Gaurav Mittal
bonddonraj said:
really thanx gaurav i was thinkin these sections are going in vain ... but some like you read them .......i feel one must be literary sound ...remember in 2003 iim pland to give poem as an RC just because corperate world said that iim aluminai can not understand literature...
ya keep going! I always appreciate good work..
 

Akash_arny

Par 100 posts (V.I.P)
A friend is someone we turn to
when our spirits need a lift.
A friend is someone we treasure
for our friendship is a gift.
A friend is someone who fills our lives
with beauty, joy, and grace.
And makes the whole world we live in
a better and happier place.
 

Akash_arny

Par 100 posts (V.I.P)
You are friendly, kind and caring
Sensitive, loyal and understanding
Humorous, fun, secure and true
Always there... yes that's you.

Special, accepting, exciting and wise
Truthful and helpful, with honest blue eyes
Confiding, forgiving, cheerful and bright
Yes that's you... not one bit of spite.

You're one of a kind, different from others
Generous, charming, but not one that smothers
Optimistic, thoughtful, happy and game
But not just another... in the long chain.

Appreciative, warm and precious like gold
Our friendship won't tarnish or ever grow old
You'll always be there, I know that is true
I'll always be here... always for you.
 

SNEHALT

New member
I SHOT AN ARROW - H.W. LONGFELLOW


I shot an arrow into the air,
It fell to earth, I knew not where;
For, so swiftly it flew, the sight
Could not follow it in its flight.

I breathed a song into the air,
It fell to earth, I knew not where;
For who has sight so keen and strong,
That it can follow the flight of song?

Long, long afterward, in an oak
I found the arrow, still unbroke;
And the song, from beginning to end,
I found again in the heart of a friend.
 

SNEHALT

New member
HOME THEY BROUGHT HER WARRIOR DEAD : ALFRED LORD TENNYSON

Home they brought her warrior dead:
She nor swooned, nor uttered cry:
All her maidens, watching, said,
‘She must weep or she will die.’

Then they praised him, soft and low,
Called him worthy to be loved,
Truest friend and noblest foe;
Yet she neither spoke nor moved.

Stole a maiden from her place,
Lightly to the warrior stepped,
Took the face-cloth from the face;
Yet she neither moved nor wept.

Rose a nurse of ninety years,
Set his child upon her knee—
Like summer tempest came her tears—
‘Sweet my child, I live for thee.’





P.S: Guys these poem suits todays Mumbai scenario............ so many families have lost their loved.......... but one cant stop living.:SugarwareZ-064:
 

bonddonraj

MP Guru
great snehalt, and akash for support and good poems they are real great........

Warning !
Jenny Joseph 1932 -

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When I am an old woman I shall wear purple
With a red hat which doesn't go, and doesn't suit me,
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
And satin sandals, and say we've no money for butter.
I shall sit down on the pavement when I'm tired
And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells
And run my stick along the public railings
And make up for the sobriety of my youth.
I shall go out in my slippers in the rain
And pick the flowers in other people's gardens
And learn to spit.

You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat
And eat three pounds of sausages at a go
Or only bread and pickle for a week
And hoard pens and pencils and beermats and things in boxes.

But now we must have clothes that keep us dry
And pay our rent and not swear in the street
And set a good example for the children.
We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.

But maybe I ought to practise a little now?
So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple
 

Akash_arny

Par 100 posts (V.I.P)
You are wonderful to me,
I'm glad you are my friend.
Hopefully forever,
Until the end.

You make me feel special,
With all that you do.
It makes me feel so lucky,
Everytime I'm around you.

You are there for me,
Through the good and bad.
It makes me happy,
Like I could never be sad.

I just want to thank you,
For everything you do.
I promise someday,
I'll do the same for you!
 
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