Poem You Like: PRIVATE

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viernes, 3 de mayo de 2013

She Walks in Beauty

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 days denies

One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impaired 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!

George Gordon
Lord Byron

Ode

Bards of Passion and of Mirth,
Ye have left your souls on earth!
Have ye souls in heaven too,
Double-lived in regions new?
Yes, and those of heaven commune
With the spheres of sun and moon;
With the noise of fountains wond'rous
And the parle of voices thund'rous
With the whisper of heaven's trees
And one another, in soft ease
Seated on Elysian lawns
Brows'd by none but Dian's fawns;
Underneath large blue-bells tented,
Where the daisies are rose-scented,
And the rose herself has got
Perfume which on earth is not;
Where the nightingale doth sing
Not a senseless, tranced thing,
But divine melodious truth;
Philosophic numbers smooth;
Tales and golden histories
Of heaven and it's mysteries.

Thus ye live on high, and then
On the earth ye live again;
And the souls ye left behind you,
Teach us, here, the way to find you,
Where your other souls are joying,
Never slumbered, never cloying.
Here, your earth-born souls still speak
To mortals, of their little week;
Of their sorrows and delights;
Of their passions and their spites;
Of their glory and their shame;
What doth strengthen and what maim.
Thus ye teach us every day,
Wisdom, though fled far away.

Bards of Passion and of Mirth
Ye have left your souls on earth!
Ye have souls in heaven too,
Double-lived in regions new!

John Keats

martes, 30 de abril de 2013

Love's Philosophy

1

The fountains mingle with the river
And the rivers with the Ocean
The winds of Heaven mix forever
With a sweet emotion;
Nothing in the world is single;
All things by a law divine
In one spirit meet and mingle.
Why not I with thine? -

2

See the mountains kiss high Heaven
And the waves clasp one another;
No sister-flower would be forgiven
If it disdained it's brother;
And the sunlight clasps the earth
And the moonbeams kiss the sea;
What is all this sweet work worth
If thou kiss not me?

Percy B. Shelley

lunes, 29 de abril de 2013

Mutability

From low to high doth dissolution climb,
And sink from high to low, along a scale
Of awful notes, whose concord shall not fail;
A musical but melancholy chime,
Which they can hear who meddle not with crime,
Nor avarice, nor over-anxious care.
Truth fails not; but her outward forms that bear
The longest date do melt like frosty rime,
That in the morning whitened hill and plain
And is no more; drop like the tower sublime
Of yesterday, which royally did wear
His crown of weeds, but could not even sustain
Some casual shout that broke the silent air,
Or the unimaginable touch of Time.

William Wordsworth

miércoles, 20 de marzo de 2013

Bachelors Apology

How is it I can not enjoy
life's theater and school - a boy
Who gently walks the everglades
and marvels how all things are made
Who dwells inside a manly frame
and willingly divides the blame
Refusing women without shame
for trying to put in a claim
When all between us being clear
there are indeed some grounds for fear
To play a game that has no rules
Who'll be the slave, who'll be the fool?

How she prepares her hook and bait
in hoping she's not come too late
Now looking to fulfill a dream
she's got her eyes on me it seems
I'll tell you something lady fair
you'll never see me climb those stairs
I hear no music in the air
no scent of flowers anywhere
I see no reason to engage
in foolish love - a man my age
How is it I can not be charmed
by eager purpose so well armed?

domingo, 17 de marzo de 2013

LOVE SONG

What can I say when this thing has no name ...
What can I say when this thing has no name
maybe floating upstream is the name of the game
What do I call it when it's not a thing
it's a luminous feeling that makes my heart sing

And for bringing it with me wherever I travel
in wonder I stand as it's slowly unraveled
But not by design or intent on my part
I'm just watching this flower unfold in my heart

To reach for it only I'd be not so foolish
it comes to me brilliantly and as a rule it's not
going to be quite what I had expected
it seems to me like my whole life is reflected
In one little moment of heavenly bliss
with our eyes and our lips meeting in a sweet kiss

And I hear the winds blowing they whisper your name
whence they come, where they go, to me it's the same
For the only thing that ever mattered to me
was your shape to behold and your sweet face to see

Oh please look in my eye tell me you'll never go
and forgive me my weakness for I need to know
There have been many times when I thought I could love
but with you I feel sure we will meet up above

And the river that flows by celestial command
it will bring us together and show us the land
we were meant to inherit before time began
It's not happened by chance but in fact it was planned

miércoles, 6 de marzo de 2013

A Tribute to Wangari Mathai

Wangari mathai was a Kenyan Women rights defender, an environmentalist and certainly a female leader like no other ever seen in the history of Kenya. She's highly revered for her great contribution in the defense of Uhuru park, a recreation center that was sold by the then president Daniel Arap Moi in the early 90's to a foreign investor. Wangari Mathai, claimed that building a skyscraper where Uhuru park stood would degrade the environment and she fought with words, body and soul. She was manhandled by the Moi regime, arrested and detained for so long. But the Kenyan women would not let her down either. They protested naked in the streets of Nairobi catching the attention of the international community. Unfortunately, She succumbed to cervical cancer mid last year leaving a mark in history. In her home town, a local TV station reported with live footage, a tree she planted in her village mourn her death by releasing water in its back.

Note this, she loved nature that it is said that at some time in her life she refused to use papers made from trees. If you think I'm making up things, rub that off your mind. This is a woman who even after death, protected the environment. In her will, it was found out that she opted for immolation as opposed to burial which would mean, destruction of a tree to make her casket. ...

martes, 5 de marzo de 2013

The Broken Window

Ogolla peeps through the broken window
Ogolla is interested in the naked widow
He hears her sing the songs of 'nindo'
and hopes the vocalist vocals his botanic name
for this is a song not a game
and guess what? It doesn't end with anyone at fame
if anything, the broken window is to blame.

Ogolla breaks through the broken window
and pounces in Atieno's bed
the chief's girl his brother wed,
in summer last month on a wed'
Ogolla grins at the naked widow
like a green gecko in a Japanese ghetto

Atieno knows better than any woman does
It is a taboo to shout, slap or slander a man
so she stands attention holding no gun
because the society demands that this be done
so she calms and listens to the orders at hand
hopping harry potter was here with his wand.

Her pointed nubile nipples point at the daring Ogolla
dare not do and face the wrath of 'chira'
"if a man gets into a bereaved woman's house,
be it dusty and smelling a dead mouse,
the book says they must 'nindo'"
so dare not do and face the wrath of 'chira'.

Atieno is shy and more than tensed
the candle' dim embers reveals her angelic face
"come babie come Ogolla," says
and the lady is confused if to snear or grimace
wind blows east and west like a horse in a satanic race
kriii!!!! kriii!!!! Krriiiiiiiiiiii!!!!
the broken window laughs at the poor widow' grimance
the wooden bed cries at the plight of the widow
Atieno's long silky air is swayed away
the candle is blown by the wind from the window
Atieno's bossoms become Ogolla's pillow
Ogolla fineshes to 'tero' Atieno

(nindo- luo word for sleep; Chira-taboo; tero- to make love)

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