Poem of the Day

[General Duke]

Sonnet 46

 

William Shakespeare

 

Mine eye and heart are at a mortal war,

How to divide the conquest of thy sight;

Mine eye my heart thy picture’s sight would bar,

My heart mine eye the freedom of that right.

My heart doth plead that thou in him dost lie,

A closet never pierc’d with crystal eyes

But the defendant doth that plea deny,

And says in him thy fair appearance lies.

To side this title is impannelled

A quest of thoughts, all tenants to the heart;

And by their verdict is determined

The clear eye’s moiety, and the dear heart’s part:

As thus; mine eye’s due is thy outward part,

And my heart’s right, thy inward love of heart.

[Mr. Somalia]

RE: Sonnet 46

 

I find this debate between the eye and the heart claim over the ownership and dominion of a loved one to be quite fascinating, although I am swayed towards supporting the claims of the heart. See...I have seen a blind person fall in love and thrive, but I am yet to see a fully sighted heartless individual fall in love. Without the heart, in my opinion, there cannot be feelings nor emotions--but, of course, the ability to see the object of your love is also always very desirable.

 

Nice selection, Duke!

[Mr. Somalia]

The Going by Thomas Hardy

 

Why did you give no hint that night

That quickly after the morrow's dawn,

And calmly, as if indifferent quite,

You would close your term here, up and be gone

Where I could not follow

With wing of swallow

To gain one glimpse of you ever anon!

 

Never to bid good-bye

Or lip me the softest call,

Or utter a wish for a word, while I

Saw morning harden upon the wall,

Unmoved, unknowing

That your great going

Had place that moment, and altered all.

 

Why do you make me leave the house

And think for a breath it is you I see

At the end of the alley of bending boughs

Where so often at dusk you used to be;

Till in darkening dankness

The yawning blankness

Of the perspective sickens me!

 

You were she who abode

By those red-veined rocks far West,

You were the swan-necked one who rode

Along the beetling Beeny Crest,

And, reining nigh me,

Would muse and eye me,

While Life unrolled us its very best.

 

Why, then, latterly did we not speak,

Did we not think of those days long dead,

And ere your vanishing strive to seek

That time's renewal? We might have said,

"In this bright spring weather

We'll visit together

Those places that once we visited."

 

Well, well! All's past amend,

Unchangeable. It must go.

I seem but a dead man held on end

To sink down soon. . . . O you could not know

That such swift fleeing

No soul foreseeing--

Not even I--would undo me so!

[Ismalura]

Fire and Ice by Robert Frost.

 

Some say the world will end in fire,

Some say in ice.

From what I've tasted of desire

I hold with those who favor fire.

But if it had to perish twice,

I think I know enough of hate

To say that for destruction ice

Is also great

And would suffice.

[G.O.E.T.I.A]

Poem by Prof.Togane (Abgal man)

 

Although this Master Piece on Somali Clan was written few years back and some consider it outdated, It still remains funny and renders you to smile to the truth…By Prof.Togane

 

Pilot fish are pragmatic pioneers

 

they are also visionary fish

 

they lead other fish

 

to their happy hunting grounds

 

to their happy haunts

 

to their desired destinations

 

to their day of rendezvous with destiny

 

The Gadabursi

 

(May their tribe increase!)

 

are the brave pilot fish of Somalia

 

in Borama

 

under the Tree of Wise Counsel

 

the Gadabursi mothered the mothers of the North

 

the Gadabursi are piloting the ill-mannered Iidor

 

to peace

 

to bashbash

 

to barwaqo

 

the Gadabursi have decided to go global

 

whereas the Iidor have decided

 

to go ghetto

 

to go it alone

 

to go haywire

 

to go UDI (Unilateral Declaration of Independence)

 

to go MIA (Missing In Action)

 

to go AWOL

 

to take French leave from sanity

 

If you have

 

an idea to advance

 

a project to promote

 

a mission to mould

 

a vision to forward

 

a passion to plant

 

a notion to nurse

 

a goal to sell

 

get a Gadabursi

 

as a guide

 

as a guru

 

as a go-to man

 

get a Gadabursi

 

to say it for you

 

to sell it for you

 

to tout it for you

 

the Gadabursi are so sophisticated

 

that they well say it in Hebrew

 

that they well sell it in Dutch

 

that they well say it in German

 

that they well sell it in Greek

 

that they well say it in English

 

wholly forgetting (and it vexes them very much)

 

that Somali is what you speak!

 

if you have a cause to espouse

 

get a Gadabursi

 

as your Spin Doctor

 

as your Spinmeister

 

get a Gadabursi

 

to say it for you

 

to sell it for you

 

to tout it for you

 

for a Gadabursi will make your cause

 

sound sweeter than the song of the bulbul

 

for you won’t get

 

any guff

 

any gaffe

 

any gammon

 

from a Gadabursi

 

for the Gadabursi abound in PhDs

 

whereas the Abgal abound in asses

 

whereas the Habar Gidir abound in natural born killers

 

The Gadabursi eschew jaad & chew on knowledge

 

Whereas the Iidor chew jaad & eschew knowledge

 

The Gadabursi know

 

how to stand the Iidor gaff

 

The Gadabursi progress

 

because they oppress nobody

 

whereas the Habar Gidir regress

 

because they oppress everybody

 

The Gadabursi

 

(May their tribe increase!)

 

are the brave pilot fish of Somalia

[Saxansaxo]

IF by Rudyard Kipling.

 

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

 

Great advice!

[Tillamook]

The Tide Rises, the Tide Falls By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

 

 

The tide rises, the tide falls,

The twilight darkens, the curlew calls;

Along the sea-sands damp and brown

The traveler hastens toward the town,

And the tide rises, the tide falls.

 

Darkness settles on roofs and walls,

But the sea, the sea in the darkness calls;

The little waves, with their soft, white hands,

Efface the footprints in the sands,

And the tide rises, the tide falls.

 

The morning breaks; the steeds in their stalls

Stamp and neigh, as the hostler calls;

The day returns, but nevermore

Returns the traveler to the shore,

And the tide rises, the tide falls.

[Tillamook]

like a universe by Sun Ra

 

if they only knew

what great jokes God has played on humanity

yes, he's placed me in the midst of them

for vague purpose of vague and

yet so great that I don't know where

it is myself

I don't know where this purpose lies

hidden

what is there?

a soft fire that is burning within me

to let me know

yes, it's there

and my mind searches for it

and my heart searches for it

And I look and I think,

yes, here it is

then it's gone

it's like a mist

then it's like a sunset

it's like a sunrise

it's like a universe

it lies there

and yet I walk among people all long

not knowing

and the people not knowing

and then I think

I say,

what a great joke I am

and then, strangely enough

I look at people sometimes and I hate

them

I look at them and I hate them

I don't wish to destroy them

I don't want to harm them

But I hate them

Because I know that I'm a part of them

that I am here for them

that I belong to them

and that's why I hate them

because you see, if I didn't belong to them

if I wasn't placed here for them

I would be a free spirit

But I can't be free as long as I haven't

served my purpose

I can't be free as long as I give to people

what I have to give to them

yes, I'm more free than most men

I'm more free than most spirits

but yet I am chained

you see, it's a great joke on me, too

then again, I look at people, and I

love them

I love them so very much until I turn

my head in shame

I want to touch them with my fingertips

and erase the frown from their face

I want to touch them with my mind and

erase every care and every sorrow away

I want to touch them with my mind and

open their mind's eye and let them see

the things that I know and feel

I want to do that because I love them

then I look at them, then I hate them

again

I hate them because I love them so much

and I don't know

I don't know where hate begins and love ends

I don't know how love ends and hate begins

I don't know any of those things

all I know is

I'm a great joke

I'm the biggest joke that's ever been

played upon the world

and people think

they think that God has no ailment

but I know because I'm a living joke

I'm one that will cause people to scratch

their heads in wonderment

In search of their hollow hearts

and look in their souls and wonder,

Where did he come from? What is he?

Who made him?

You see, I'm such a great joke

until I tickle myself

[Tillamook]

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in) By E. E. Cummings

 

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in

my heart)i am never without it(anywhere

i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done

by only me is your doing,my darling)

i fear

no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want

no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)

and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant

and whatever a sun will always sing is you

 

here is the deepest secret nobody knows

(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud

and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows

higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)

and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

 

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

[MellowBird]

Tillamook;874476 wrote:

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in)

By E. E. Cummings

 

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in

my heart)i am never without it(anywhere

i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done

by only me is your doing,my darling)

i fear

no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want

no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)

and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant

and whatever a sun will always sing is you

 

here is the deepest secret nobody knows

(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud

and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows

higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)

and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

 

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

 

i LOVE this poem! and this song.

 

 

"George Strait - Carrying Your Love With Me"

[MellowBird]

Could Have

--Wislawa Szymborska,

 

It could have happened.

It had to happen.

It happened earlier. Later.

Nearer. Farther off.

It happened, but not to you.

 

You were saved because you were the first.

You were saved because you were the last.

Alone. With others.

On the right. The left.

Because it was raining. Because of the shade.

Because the day was sunny.

 

You were in luck -- there was a forest.

You were in luck -- there were no trees.

You were in luck -- a rake, a hook, a beam, a brake,

A jamb, a turn, a quarter-inch, an instant . . .

 

So you're here? Still dizzy from

another dodge, close shave, reprieve?

One hole in the net and you slipped through?

I couldn't be more shocked or

speechless.

Listen,

how your heart pounds inside me.

[Tillamook]

The Facebook Sonnet by Sherman Alexie

 

Welcome to the endless high-school

Reunion. Welcome to past friends

And lovers, however kind or cruel.

Let's undervalue and unmend

 

The present. Why can't we pretend

Every stage of life is the same?

Let's exhume, resume and extend

Childhood. Let's all play the games

 

That preoccupy the young. Let fame

And shame intertwine. Let one's search

For God become public domain.

Let church.com become our church.

 

Let's sign up, sign in and confess

Here at the altar of loneliness.

[Tillamook]

O mistress mine, where are you roaming? by William Shakespeare

 

O mistress mine, where are you roaming?

O stay and hear, your true love's coming,

That can sing both high and low.

Trip no further, pretty sweeting:

Journeys end in lovers meeting,

Every wise man's son doth know.

 

What is love? 'tis not hereafter,

Present mirth hath present laughter:

What's to come is still unsure.

In delay there lies no plenty,

Then come kiss me, sweet and twenty:

Youth's a stuff will not endure.

[Tillamook]

Waking by Stephen Dobyns

 

Waking, I look at you sleeping beside me.

It is early and the baby in her crib

has begun her conversation with the gods

that direct her, cooing and making small hoots.

Watching you, I see how your face bears the signs

of our time together—for each objective

description, there is the romantic; for each

scientific fact, there's the subjective truth—

this line was caused by days at a microscope,

this from when you thought I no longer loved you.

Last night a friend called to say that he intends

to move out; so simple, he and his wife splitting

like a cell into two separate creatures.

What would happen if we divided ourselves?

As two colors blend on a white pad, so we

have become a third color; or better,

as a wire bites into the tree it surrounds,

so we have grown together. Can you believe

how frightening I find this, to know I have

no life except with you? It's almost enough

to make me destroy it just to protest it.

Always we seemed perched on the brink of chaos.

But today there's just sunlight and the baby's

chatter, her wonder at the way light dances

on the wall. How lucky to be ignorant,

to greet joy without a trace of suspicion,

to take that first step without worrying what

comes trailing after, as night trails after day,

or winter summer, or confusion where all

seemed clear and each moment was its own reward.

[Tillamook]

The Tyger by William Blake

 

Tyger Tyger, burning bright,

In the forests of the night;

What immortal hand or eye,

Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

 

In what distant deeps or skies.

Burnt the fire of thine eyes?

On what wings dare he aspire?

What the hand dare sieze the fire?

 

And what shoulder, & what art,

Could twist the sinews of thy heart?

And when thy heart began to beat,

What dread hand? & what dread feet?

 

What the hammer? what the chain,

In what furnace was thy brain?

What the anvil? what dread grasp,

Dare its deadly terrors clasp!

 

When the stars threw down their spears

And water'd heaven with their tears:

Did he smile his work to see?

Did he who made the Lamb make thee?

 

Tyger Tyger burning bright,

In the forests of the night:

What immortal hand or eye,

Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?