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Ode Art Poems | Ode Poems About Art

These Ode Art poems are examples of Ode poems about Art. These are the best examples of Ode Art poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Ode | |

Black Diamond

On the border of the obscure wastelands, In the depths of shadows and torments, Far beyond the land of Never Was, Never Will Is a place where I hold you, strong and silent… As the shards of your sensitive sadness prevail, Sifting the awaiting coals below, I shall reflect slivers of your light upon the darkest woe! I fight with the broken alliance within the dimmest coves, I mean to pull you into Death’s demise Where the pained poets prevail and the suns of justice arise So that e’en the coldest of coals reach warmth! Generating power so strong, that the gods step aside As these diamonds-to-be burst into the light of day Revealing your words of Always Was… and Always Will The Black Diamond, once captive…finally free…though coal black still!
For Shadow Hamilton's Contest: Fighting Depression(poems for PD) 12/7/14


Details | Ode | |

Renaissance Reed

     Lou Reed , Mistral of his time
     so you walked this road on the wild side
     unique in music , never selling out 
     believing in Art instead of commercialize
     
     Lou Reed the musician never compromised ~
     Sweet Jane not enough for our crowd of eccentric rockers 
     still will live forever with the many that left before you
     one can imagine from John Lennon to Johnny Ramone 

     a party in Heaven of the finest rock bestowed 
     no text , no MTV when they pursued a dream 
     New York, hotel Chelsea an age of Renaissance
     ragged jeans and leather jackets ,Art on stage  

     No, your Rock not ever fade away , it will stay sweet Jane forever ~

      For the fine Man with words , ode to Lou Reed .

     

     
     



Details | Ode | |

To Duke

I woke up from the cradles of slumber
My morning eyes opened slowly
My mind frolicked and sang with peace
Remembering your words 
So kind, so memorable were they!
So sweet, so genuine are you!
The mere thought of you takes away the assertive blue

It is a wonder I have come across your mind
It is a blessing like no other—a true, treasurable find!
And there are no words that can truly give you the honor you deserve
But take these, please!
And know there is so much more. . .
So much more that I wish to offer you

Your never-ending thoughtfulness and attention
Has filled me with unremitting appreciation
You really are a beautiful light to my world
Cheering my melancholy with joy
I have never found someone quite like you
And that is the beauty of it all
Finding the gold
The sunlight smiling for your marvelous shine
Finding truth
There is just no other like you!
I would never turn my eyes away
There is just no possible way

That is a blessing I count close to the heart
Finding you, such a rare piece!
Finding you in a churning world of excitement and chaos
Finding you with such delight and gratitude

Thank you so much, Duke!
Thank you for being you!

-Dedicated to a very fine poet named Duke Beaufort-


Details | Ode | |

If I had to paint a picture of me loving God what would I see

If I had to paint a picture of me loving God what would I see?
would I see a portrait of a person who walks in truth and honesty?

In order to paint a picture of me loving God 
I would have to access all the experiences that to me life did impart
did I have a good relationship with my mom and my dad?
was it loving and supportive or distant and sad?
did I get along with my siblings? did we look out for each other?
did we play and love each other like true sisters and brothers?
were my needs being meet? did I ever learn to trust and believe?
am I balanced enough to cope according to the lessons in life I've received?

Multi-generational, familial or systemic social receptions
all of this has played a part in my life perceptions
we all have distortions in every aspect of our living
we now must deal with the reality at this time we've been given

was my life exactly as I remember? or are there things that I've repressed?
are there issues that are buried inside me that now make me depressed?
deep-seated anxiety, personal pain and high expectations
feelings of inadequacy, destructive criticism and bouts of frustration
we all have issues that we now need to bring out and discuss
in order to have authentic relationships we need to have real trust
we all have some brokenness that needs to be healed 
so that our full love for the Lord God can one day be revealed

God is not distant like a CEO in the corporate tower
God is not pressuring us with His omnipotent power
God does not keep score He just watches over our souls
God is fair and just and doesn't set for us high goals
God is all embracing He nurtures, instructs and forgives
He's kind, patient and loving in this life to us He did give  

So if I had to paint a picture of what it looks like for me to love God
it would be a colorful canvas of emotions, perceptions and reflections from my heart


Details | Ode | |

Ode to lines

I cling to the tangibility of paper
its connection to earth, 
the feel of the grain 
on the skin. 
Words do not exist 
thanks to the mashing 
of keys and buttons, but by providence
of the paper. 
The forgotten paper
is still alive. Soft
and crumpled 
yellowed with age. 
Though forgotten
never erased. Never
extinguished.

I do not bleed red
cells but globules
of words, coagulated
phrases and lines.
The pen is a prosthesis,
supplementing blood 
where soft flesh leaves prints-
other swirled lines an whirls.
The pencil 
whispers
words,
lightly brushes her lips
against slate, 
ever the timid lover. 
Even when erased 
the word is 
forever imprinted, its curvatures
embedded in the soft 
fiber of the page. 

The screen
is an evil thing; coveting
its symbols and codes. 
It hides
away your words,
entombs them 
behind an electric moon.
When the screen dies
so do your musings.


Details | Ode | |

Ode To Fireworks

It is such great unity
That appears amongst the beauty
Of the bright light display?
Such colour, such energy within celebration,
Such a vivid canvas of man-made creation
That sparks with flair and passion;
To fall into the fog
Like all dying illusions.

Yet it is what it does for us:
Where we are drawn from our furnishings
That we clean in intervals,
Closing outside to a regular schedule,
Remaining well lit and sheltered
Resting our minds so dimly upon the
Soft and empty cushions
And hugging at the blind comfort
Of cover.

We are drawn from this facade
By another in itself.
Which brings us out like a beacon
Part Devil, half Eden
To then fade away
Like all illusions,
Leaving us quiet,
Revealing deepened images.
Exposed to chill
Peace climbs through our bones.

Let us stand together,
Embrace
The great power that connects us;
The great unity
Amongst such beauty.

Till we once more return home…


Details | Ode | |

A MIRROR OF ME

DARKNESS ONLY PREVAILS FOR A WHILE
BUT LIGHT EVENTUALLY PREVAILS FOREVER
THE REVENGE OF AN EMBITTERED WOMAN 
IS MORE THAN THE FURY OF A THOUSAND ARMY
THERE ARE WOMEN OF SUBSTANCE 
AND THERE ARE WOMEN OF SUPERLATIVE SUBSTANCE
IN SIZE WE GROW
IN WISDOM WE SURPASS
HE WHO CAN FLY
NEEDS NOT FLYING WHISKERS
FOR A SHORT WHILE ALONE
DOES INIQUITY REIGN


I  AM MY HUSBANDS PILLAR
A SHELTER FOR MY CHILDREN
AN ENVY OF ALL NATION
A SYMBOL OF CREATION
AN ENDURER OF PAIN
THE PATIENT DOG IN HUMAN FORM
A MORTAL AMONG IMMORTALS
A VISION BEYOND THE PRESENT
I AM A VIRTUOUS WOMAN
A HEIRESS
A LEADER
A GREAT INSTRUMENT
A COMPLETION OF CREATIONS
MIGHTY IN MY OWN WAY.


Details | Ode | |

Kings And Castles -


Everyone had a unique reason for playing the Game
as we find different means for surviving Life
until the proper seconds of Death come stomping by with insistence,

some want intellectual respect shown with agitation in the opponent's eyes,
others crave the anxiety of prognostication 
like gladiators uncertain of how to strike,
people commence the battle because they have something to prove
as Bobby boldly reproved the Soviets
on their asinine assumptions of superiority,

regardless, all who touch the Board want desperately
to understand the Game,
it's rituals, it's spirits,
the possibilities alive & haunting the 64 squares,
to honestly provide a homage of mind to History and to invention,
as if the nature of Chess is a dream of God's,
a subconscious engineering of grappling wants & needs,
of fears & hopes, of bravado & caution,
32 weapons arranged handsomely for the express channeling
of the Divine creative compulsion of Providence itself,

geometry made grand & gallant,
a homicide of honor performed in the pressure of an hour,
all skilled players realise at some point
that quality brinksmanship ascends over the voice of victory
and can be reduced to the amazing beauty
of integrating logical processes with artistic allure,
misdirection a linchpin of the Master's ancient algebra,
momentum the indispensible monarch of strategy,
without it one is dictated,
mating nets, positional play, tactical moves,
a temple devoted to timeing -

J.A.B.


Details | Ode | |

Ode To A Trojan Horse

Learnt by the pang of fear
Oh Trojan horse thou art fair
So fearful and hard to near
Your presence!A dread  even to air
Leading to an ancient unknown fence
Creating anguish in the ambience
Like a mad dog thou locate
Your way to doom or heaven's gate
Vigour in you aint got an end
For strong art thou till the end
Of world and world beyond thy tend


Details | Ode | |

SIMPLE JOY OF ART

                                           THE SIMPLE JOY OF ART



When eyes delight upon a work of Michelangelo—gut grinding art-- Creation by a mere man, from his enchanted hands explode results of David –perhaps a heavenly message to impart To the earthbound, scattered world flung far in lands mountain wrapped, plain dirt plains or seabound rocky shores. Vagabonds, they come to marvel by foot or cart. In awe they stand before the stone made man. Walking through the door, drawn to David’s splendid daunting beauty—his far gaze imparts to the viewer-- in that instant, in this life there is nothing more of beauty needed to be seen. Years pass, nights will follow days yet thoughts of this wondrous creature never waiver, never fade but haunt delightedly like a nightlight in the darkness. What manner is there to praise the artist for a gift so long lasting? Repeated thoughts played reflecting David's beauty --and played again—durable throughout the years, Clarified and Magnified in time, not diminished--when mind is disarrayed suddenly a glimpse will flash—through grief’s unbidden tears David will stand in mind’s eye, unchanged , ever manly strong-- beauty possible by stone conscience unblemished by dreadful acts or craven fears. Thus it is --creation of a man who does no wrong. Perhaps it is the reason Heaven's blessed the world with Art which reaches all-- both rich and poor--announces to the throngs-- Look to men of stone to find the rare and pure of heart.
Victoria Anderson-Throop © 11/28/12


Details | Ode | |

FRUSTRATION

Like a thunder bolt
The words exploded in her head
She was confused in the noon
History deserted into noun and verbs
The sun came calling on her
The air screamed on her 
The oceans wept bitterly
Our generations was at stake on her
Flaming down the guts she moved
Moon and grasses filed up in the street
Up up they journeyed in the black side
Abandoning the green side of the land
Mother Nigeria is fading away
In the hands of George Orwell pig
Shall the caused of animal kingdom be ours?


Details | Ode | |

For The Woman Who Has It All

      1.
Still... still I but aspire to serve your sight,
The measures of dark, streaming mystery,
With eyes deep as night and alive with light,
Your Beauty's as any through history,
An unspent spirit proved by your posture,
Your certain figure made sure, made slender,
Vision of you is like rough emery,
Straining, straining to capture your stature,
As ev'ry artist would hope to render
Such Beauty kept committed to memory.

      2.
You're owed no less than a sprawling estate,
To be adorned with pearls, diamonds, and gold,
Yet, as always, I'm impoverished of late,
Affording such precious little, all told;
I just might point out places where wood rots,
And I may, perhaps, soak you in spilled milk,
Since with my savings, best I can do's fall,
As there'd be no most luxurious spots,
I'd offer no furs, no cashmere, no silk,
Not much for the woman who has it all.

      3.
'Pon my soul you remain as coarse etches,
A brilliant scar, a shadowy tainting,
The endless subject of endless sketches,
A future masterpiece in oil painting,
The fearsomely delicate carved sculpture;
Of you I make my own melodic code,
As I do this, I do so in your name,
For you are a truly rare-formed rupture,
Bleeding slow, my own melancholic ode,
Writ share 'mongst these words of undying fame.


Details | Ode | |

Further is Closer Than You Think

To see or not to see, past the illusion.
Of truth secretly whispered back and forth,
creating confusion.

Shakespeare publicly fought between life and death
for pure amusement.

Within my thoughts, hope's not lost but found,
don't fight with fear use it.

Time is endlessly precious when our soul starts to lose grip.
Loose lips, wondering eyes, curious minds
in search of the light.
Collide in a beautiful place
where I am nothing
connected to everything
real matter cannot be erased.


Details | Ode | |

ODE OF OLD

Salute to the ode of old
Be wary of the ghosts it leaves
The remnant and seeds of its wake


Salute to the whore of kings
Its corpse and stench reeks still
The wise and deep court still


Salute to the living dead
Frail but rears its head
With words than never bend

Salute, I say, Ode
For yonder when I die
In spite of the odium I hold
You’d still be lying there


Details | Ode | |

An Ode To William Blake

An Ode To William 
Blake
----------------------------------
He when Painted, 
Printed or Wrote,
His face always wore 
a grave grin.
THAT Soft in heart 
and hand,
The sculptor, stones 
had ever seen;
Sitting by the lonely-
lake’s shore 
Portrayed the 
playing cherubs. 
For me his shop 
would have been,
For Pope, Dryden’s 
coffee 
shop.	
 Loved who little-
boys, herders and 
sheep,
And praised country 
and for lambs prayed.
An artist lived there 
unknown,
 Unnoticed, ahead of 
his time.

(contd...)


Details | Ode | |

The Reason

Vividly there is a purpose

With honor we haul and stand uncertain

Then later crept into a fortified lodge

The essence is most times ourselves

A re-make of those footsteps we follow

There’s always a twitch, but never a booth

Was it for love that you base your endurance?

Or maybe it’s just as such, a compelling norm

A splendid theory speaks a curious tale

But where ever we stop, 

a tombstone marks the feet

Countless eras explains the change we pursue

The partners we engage may divert the aim we leap

At least there is logic for one to be submissive

A cause to be bold pushed and detained

Still to what do we owe our reason for the flag we mount

As for me, I console to Poetry!


Details | Ode | |

Pyramid-Maker

From a three-sided angle
Astrological purpose is unmangled
Triangle on top
Square on the bottom
Bright halo around God
Our tears fill His bottle
A Pyramid is a monument to death
A Tabernacle of wealth
Which comes into effect
When there's no longer breath
Is it mourning or celebration in stealth
Beyond Technology
Architectural prophecy
Geometrical philosophy
The place where Kings and Queens lay
Buried on a sun-disk
Dedicated to Day
The final form to decay
Hands form this shape
When they're positioned to pray.


Details | Ode | |

Funom Makama: A Giant And His Kingdom

Once in a while it is good if we think highly of ourselves. As for me, I always do that, especially knowing fully well what the holy scriptures says "As a Man thinketh in his Heart, so is he"... I am a champion, a king, an influential being and someone the world cannot do without and this is exactly who I am (not just in my heart). Here is a poem which elaborates these thoughts of mine.

Talking about a Giant and his kingdom beauty and greatness found in any form He's exactly what a society needs; which is a very relaible intercom. Empowering the weak to freedom even when it seems they are stuck in a dorm Praises from citizens of his empire should never be considered as Idioms Cos his helping hand makes life easy as a sitcom and his contagious virtues make every night seem as prom. The unsuccessful and underachievers sit and talk but his presence to them brings immediate boredom. In his race to success, stumbling is seldom. Always winning Gold is his symptom but acquiring Silver, is considered as hitting rock bottom. His constant achievements leaves you no choice than to get accustomed and no wonder he's an exaggeration to his peers. His magic and Aura, difficult to phantom. His foot prints and trademark, already becoming random. A charming and very influential leader, ready to pass through dark holes in protection of his own, like a condom which makes his flock long for his bossom. God bless his mom for giving us such a phenom. Commanding respect, to him is a norm. Try intimidation, he has the anti-venom. Defined as smart, sharp, intelligent and handsome. Not even forgeting his envious Wisdom which makes him explode like a radioactive atom. Who else is it; if not the one and only FUNOM!


Details | Ode | |

YAK ing Signa And Art Associates

Yak is everywhere
Not cursing or rude in the ends  
Yak is a street artist
Yak:first of all you have excellence and simplicity in Logo
You make me smile
Your work is constant and consistent 
You frenetically protests against
agreeing or not 
those three letters always make me glad 
content,
Closed to You certainly are pal artists
But the genius in Yak her/his/'s simplicity 
is not bout agreeing  

Yak(ing)

Yak might be a scream demanding me/we are artists of Democracy if hired the worked will be paid in the amount of Talent 
Yak is
An enormous label name
Imagine: Yak clothes, Street, Casual, non-casual, jewels, watches
Yak concept

Yak 'Concepteur'
Yak unlimited supply 
Yak boundaries are all crossed 
the next step
We Deserve Yak
I was thinking about making a T-shirt with,
But that's not fare some are my fights but the label is not mine
Yak deserve recognition beyond
I wonder sometimes about the identity of Yak or Yak's
I see ex-students on Yak
I see colleagues on Yak
I show Yak around
Some like some dislike 

People that are to consensual are not generally in my favourites list
And that's a reason for Democracy major virtues and severe imperfections 
And in dictatorship even the camouflaged kind Yak is needed 
Yak is probably not Bunksy 
Yak for me create a trend  
The sign of Thor's hammer *
Simple 1Y 2a 3k 
The sympathetic logo makes people smile
At least for a single time You, 
You 
You,You
and also You and You 
You all have smiled about the word,
You in some way are protest signatories 
But look at the Logo 

Gud signi teg 

Yak
Thank You!
* Etymology 2 Old Norse signa a) Wiktyonary 
**Wiktyonary


Details | Ode | |

to the late donna summers

somewhere in my late teens
i heard a voice they'd call a queen
loud and clear this voice seemed
a brand new thing a disco scene
it was to be the sound of my time
the seventies and the eighties
disco's and rhymes
and donna summers was that queen
the icon of the disco scene
she came along just in time
giving me my music, mine
from then we knew the flavor
and it hasn't changed much since
a steady beat, a disco ball
and times we won't forget


Details | Ode | |

MICHELANGELO'S HANDS

                                MICHELANGELO'S HANDS

When eyes delight upon a work of Michelangelo—gut wrenching art-- Creation by a mere man, from his enchanted hands explode results of David –perhaps a heavenly message to impart To the earthbound, scattered world flung far in lands mountain wrapped, plain dirt plains or seabound rocky shores. Vagabonds, they come to marvel by foot or cart. In awe they stand before the stone made man. Walking through the door, drawn to David’s splendid daunting beauty—his far gaze imparts to the viewer-- in that instant, in this life there is nothing more of beauty needed to be seen. Years pass, nights will follow days yet thoughts of this wondrous creature never waiver, never fade but haunt delightedly. What manner is there to praise the artist for a gift so long lasting? Repeated thoughts played reflecting David's beauty --and played again—durable throughout the years, Clarified and Magnified in time, not diminished--when mind is disarrayed suddenly a glimpse will flash—through grief’s unbidden tears David will stand in mind’s eye, unchanged , ever manly strong-- beauty possible by stone conscience unblemished by dreadful acts or craven fears. Thus it is --creation of a man who does no wrong. Perhaps it is the reason Heavens blessed the world with Art which reaches all-- both rich and poor--announces to the throngs-- Look to men of stone to find the rare and pure of heart.
Victoria Anderson-Throop © 11/28/12


Details | Ode | |

DARLING DEAR

...a darling dear of time is when the  tick-tock, of the clock stops, during a dancing wind chimes rendition of just how invisible things move me, to write, darling dear a rhyme, 

the peak of a mountain top experiencing, 

...alive,
the soul

O' darling dear

a love letter,
a rhythm,

a liberty,

just one of those things that
inspires,

of the everlasting.


Details | Ode | |

A DRINK IN THE MORNING

Coffee in a cup, makes a cup of coffee;
just as an aroma from within, makes the air,

smell of flowers in the spring

...blossoms,
blooms,

time,

...a sweet thing, like sugar cane is to the tasting,
and the tasting is to stirring the dream,
flavor,

making flavored coffee
soul,

a drink in the morning.


Details | Ode | |

Ode to Such Beauty

Like a painting doth adorn
To decorate the halls forlorn;
So hath your face, adorning
All the halls within my mind.
You mustn't know you haunt me so,
A woman so refined.

When fleeting images appear,
They waft but cannot interfere.
As in my heart, you keep appearing
Like a phantom from my past.
Please don't go; I love you so!
These feelings unabashed.

Forever in this heart adorn;
Remove from me the art forlorn.
Allow me in your thoughts, adorning
All the walls within your mind.
As we doth grow, you need to know
I'll never change my mind.


Details | Ode | |

Art form Theory

 Player hitting 
  a wedge shot
   Expressive look
    in lines as 
     well as eyes
 Golf ball in them
 Small angles to the 
 whole.
             Incredible 
                     Lies
 The grass is so
green. I shall
  make them the
 petal green of
Joyce's rose.
             Incredible
                  lines
is The grass greener.


Details | Ode | |

MIGHTY RA

Mighty Ra.
Through the sky
Thy benign presence journeys
Unto us thy glory to dole
Thy aureole, a hollowed
Light radiates.
And into our burden
Darkened psyches
It permeates to illuminate
And unto our entirety
Healing to bring.
To thee,in worship
Our knees bend
For none else,but thou
Mighty Ra
Could these deeds wrought.


In glory art thou robed
And in majesty crowned.
Rock of ages, immortal art thou.
Thy hands, mighty art.
For,by them,all things became.
In battle,by them,
Thy raging foes abseiled,
Firm the cosmos stands
And in tranquility remains.
Even the eerie night
With myriads of eyes 
That sees not
In battle before thee roared,
But, beneath the anger of
Thy hallowed light it
submerged,
The morn, a tale of
Thy conquest it tells.
And on thy eastern throne
In glory thou,eternally sits.
Mighty Ra.

(Ra is an Egyptian sun god) 


Details | Ode | |

HIS WEALTH 2

our children dacing
dacing at the sight of lighted bulbs
like when the eclipse occured
but their hope dashed

but his wealth  is intact
for his greatest grand children
children that are more equal
more equal than the others

our mouths now salivates
on seeing mere nuts
like dogs for bones
bones of our lost sons

sons last seen on april
april of the pools
pools of ballots
ballots of inec

our stomach now speak
speak like the dogs
dogs that came beyond the sea
but they have learnt
learnt to look
look since their demands were not meet

our youths now play in moonlight
play games in the sand
games out of fustration
fustration  due to lack of job

our graduates now employed
employed in barrow pushing company plc
with first class honours
obtained from war front

our universities now battle fields
our wards soliders
only to come home
with paper to prove it

all their hopes in it
in the designed paper
paper that cannot feed
even the fetus in the woman

they made him believe them
them that are beyond the sea
that his wealths are safe
though they beautify their land with it

he knew not that the value of  
his wealth has been used
used to tare their roads
used to build schools
used to build hospitals
used to make things better
used to empower their people
used to make them what they claim
those beyond the sea

though his wealth are safe
it have generated hundred times
to say the least, its worth
he claims to be rich,

the cock that crew
the dogs that bark
the cricket that creaks
the youths that riots
the children that cries

all are saying in Unison
wake up and behave
like a black though are
for our blood flows in you

let them know that we have an origin
our origin so strong
our strenght so wisely use
our wisdom cannot be decieved

wake up and take from them
the wealth they took from us
wake up and suprise them
and make our homes the dream land

the dream land of our fathers
those that fought till sleep came
and those that still wait for sleep to emerge

wake up and let them know
that our wealth we can manage
to make our homes eden
the eden our fathers lived in

For our tribes are stong
as strong as the lion
the lion accros the equator
our home the heart of Africa


Details | Ode | |

Music

It does not cast a shadow,
Nor does it judge, mimic, or belittle,
But it is full of emotion,
When expressed, time stands still,
Ubiquitous to society,
And inspired by nature,
More valuable than gold,
But cannot be spent,
More real than the stars,
But cannot be seen nor touched,
It can calm the most incorrigible of people,
And create passion in the most stoic souls,
It remains the same,
But is constantly changing,
And is older than life,
But will never age nor die,
To move by it is beautiful,
But to create it is a gift from God… 


Details | Ode | |

Ode to the TIME: Some lines written on mystery of TIME

Hey TIME!! What art thou?
You insisible creature,
Are you transparent in nature?

Tick, tick, tick.........
This sound always I hear,
Is this you that is in my ear?

Every one say passenger
Me seem you still
But it is we that is in thrill

Are you friend or foe?
All my beauty and innocence you doth grab
It creates between both of a us a great gap

O Mystery!!
You are nothing but illusion of my mind
Or you are relative of those moving stars together bind

Have you got eternity???
No, never, think not, no prophet was given
It is a privilge that I'll get in heaven.

O spinning wheel!!
Why cunningly thou movest very fast?
Ever reverse thy motion and let me see my faded past.

An unfathomable sea!
Where all my peers and kins sink
What remains is love and memories I think

O poor snatcher!
Thou mayst snatch all my friends from me
But not their love, you are fibble before it, I remind thee

What makest thou unconquerable?
You keep the horses of your cart on spur
Is this thing that makest thou lead the other?

One of little gods!
You make of me a Hamlet, such a fate thou weavest
Sometimes I cry, sometimes with sighs of relief I heavest

O minister of metamorphosis,
As you walked past the green turned yellow
I wish a realm where you would not be my fellow

O phantom of enigma,
Fie oN thee..... away, away - when ideas pelteth
Thou art the riddle that maketh my mind start melteth


Details | Ode | |

red wine and old men

Old men and red wine (Portugal)

In the bodega old men drink red wine (never white)
They are proud of their elderliness and solves 
The worlds many problems; something about keeping 
your head down and work hard. 

Then as shadows fall and night approaches, they go 
home to wives who scold them gently for smelling of wine
 but they do hope to meet their old friends tomorrow 
afternoon at the bodega.  

Not many bodegas left now, big wooden caskets of wine, 
sink counter and stone floors, wine bars are taking over, 
bottles of showy wine with posh labels like that should 
have anything to do with friendship.