The Vulture
The Vulture eats between his meals,
And that’s the reason why
He very, very, rarely feels
As well as you and I.
His eye is dull, his head is bald,
His neck is growing thinner.
Oh! what a lesson for us all
To only eat at dinner!
– Hilaire Belloc
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Forty Days and Forty Nights
Forty days and forty nights
Thou wast fasting in the wild;
Forty days and forty nights
Tempted, and yet undefiled.
Sunbeams scorching all the day;
Chilly dew-drops nightly shed;
Prowling beasts about Thy way;
Stones Thy pillow; earth Thy bed.
Should not we Thy sorrow share
And from worldly joys abstain,
Fasting with unceasing prayer,
Strong with Thee to suffer pain?
Then if Satan on us press,
Jesus, Savior, hear our call!
Victor in the wilderness,
Grant we may not faint nor fall!
So shall we have peace divine:
Holier gladness ours shall be;
Round us, too, shall angels shine,
Such as ministered to Thee.
Keep, O keep us, Savior dear,
Ever constant by Thy side;
That with Thee we may appear
At the eternal Eastertide.
– George H Smyttan (1856)
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Those Winter Sundays
Sundays too my father got up early
and put his clothes on in the blueblack cold,
then with cracked hands that ached
from labor in the weekday weather made
banked fires blaze. No one ever thanked him.
I’d wake and hear the cold splintering, breaking.
When the rooms were warm, he’d call,
and slowly I would rise and dress,
fearing the chronic angers of that house,
Speaking indifferently to him,
who had driven out the cold
and polished my good shoes as well.
What did I know, what did I know
of love’s austere and lonely offices?
– Robert Hayden
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Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
– Robert Frost
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It’s Finally Friday
It’s finally Friday—I’m so glad.
It’s been a crazy week.
I got chewed out on Monday,
and since then it’s all been bleak.
I lost my lunch on Tuesday,
and a parent went insane,
which shocked me so completely
that I almost popped a vein.
I poked my eye on Wednesday,
and the nurse gave me a shot.
She sent me to the doctor
when I fainted on the spot.
On Thursday I was tardy
’cause I kinda overslept.
And the snack that I was craving
came up missing in a theft.
And so it’s finally Friday.
No more pencils, no more books.
No more sitting in detention,
no more teachers’ dirty looks.
By Friday I’m exhausted,
out of energy and breath.
But that’s the day you’ll hear me shout,
“Rejoice, TGIF!”
And twice a month on Friday,
I remember why I stay:
You see, I am the principal—
that’s when I get my pay.
– Paul Orshoski
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Chinese New Year
Ash Wednesday
Because I do not hope to turn again
Because I do not hope
Because I do not hope to turn
Desiring this man’s gift and that man’s scope
I no longer strive to strive towards such things
(Why should the aged eagle stretch its wings?)
Why should I mourn
The vanished power of the usual reign?
Because I do not hope to know again
The infirm glory of the positive hour
Because I do not think
Because I know I shall not know
The one veritable transitory power
Because I cannot drink
There, where trees flower, and springs flow, for there is nothing again
Because I know that time is always time
And place is always and only place
And what is actual is actual only for one time
And only for one place
I rejoice that things are as they are and
I renounce the blessed face
And renounce the voice
Because I cannot hope to turn again
Consequently I rejoice, having to construct something
Upon which to rejoice
And pray to God to have mercy upon us
And pray that I may forget
These matters that with myself I too much discuss
Too much explain
Because I do not hope to turn again
Let these words answer
For what is done, not to be done again
May the judgement not be too heavy upon us
Because these wings are no longer wings to fly
But merely vans to beat the air
The air which is now thoroughly small and dry
Smaller and dryer than the will
Teach us to care and not to care
Teach us to sit still.
Pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death
Pray for us now and at the hour of our death.
– TS Eliot
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The Owl and the Pussy Cat
The Owl and the Pussy Cat went to sea
In a beautiful pea-green boat,
They took some honey, and plenty of money
Wrapped up in a five-pound note.
The Owl looked up to the stars above,
And sang to a small guitar,
“O lovely Pussy, O Pussy, my love,
What a beautiful Pussy you are,
You are,
You are!
What a beautiful Pussy you are!”
Pussy said to the Owl, “You elegant fowl!
How charmingly sweet you sing!
O let us be married! too long we have tarried:
But what shall we do for a ring?”
They sailed away, for a year and a day,
To the land where the Bong-tree grows
And there in a wood a Piggy-wig stood
With a ring at the end of his nose,
His nose,
His nose,
With a ring at the end of his nose.
“Dear Pig, are you willing to sell for one shilling
Your ring?” Said the Piggy, “I will.”
So they took it away, and were married next day
By the Turkey who lives on the hill.
They dined on mince, and slices of quince,
Which they ate with a runcible spoon;
And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand,
They danced by the light of the moon,
The moon,
The moon,
They danced by the light of the moon.
– Edward Lear
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Monday Morning Blues
| Monday Morning Blues |
| The keys are in the refrigerator, The IPod’s in my boot, And I am running late for work, The toast is in my suit. No coffee in the percolator, Just water, very hot, Now what is it I have to do? Oh, Lord, I just forgot. My shoes are in the elevator, The phone is in the garburator, My foot is on the accelerator, And I am no exaggerator, – David Ronald Bruce Pekrul http://www.aromaticcoffees.co.uk
|
A Cup of Cappuccino
Medium heat showers at six in the morning
Freshen me up with that needed zest
Vitalizing me to face another day
The flow of water sounds like waterfalls
Pinnacles of a bathroom
Smells of hygiene everywhere
Shampoos, creamy soaps and aftershave lotions
What a day to start your motion
Back to my room
It’s like a routine; I’d know which band of clothes to choose
Soaking cologne to my body is a boost
Enhancing your confidence
And be more prudent
My wet look
Would make women get hooked
After doing my routine, I step out of the front door
Grabbing the morning newspaper from the lawn
Back to the living room
A delightful aroma of the best natural coffee
Penetrates my nostrils
My brain sends signals to my body
‘Be ready for energy and vitality’
I sit down in the kitchen
Reading the headlines and checking my schedule
I pick up the cup on the table
My passion is tested
I deeply inhale
The first sip could expand your blood vessels
After the next sips
I could feel the blood rush
My heart was beating faster
Like a conga beat
The caffeine with a dropp of chocolates
Driving me to a roller coaster ride
That is what I need
To face the world
Get a cup of coffee
Get a Cappuccino
Don’t say no
You’ll know
– Sulaiman Mohd Yusof
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