Best Epigrams Poems
Christian Love frame
The only need for death to every exist
Was to slay the fictional self
And all the embellishments used to support it
Fear not, Love’s little flock
You will not be set to fly
And then be allowed to fall
To be strong in your Love
Is to inherit the power of God
That now lies dormant in your essence
For your possession of absolute truth
Is a point at which your Love and your reality
Both become one in God
Slaying your fictional self, being honorable
Is your first step toward your recovery
Of your conscious immortality
For what is sin but the force and mischief
Used to instill and empower
Your mentally invented lower realities
Withholding forgiveness
Is the ego’s assault against life
Love does not judge
For what is the mercy of Love
But that it repeats it’s lessons of life
Until they are learn by the mind
For Love already knows,
What life is yet to learn
Therefore learn from who you are
And teach your outer self
Love’s absolute truth
Love is your true reality, a constant source
Has no beginning or no end
The unlimited potential, quite essential
My prayer for 2010 is that;
These proceeding sayings
Become obsolete this year
In the face of your Love itself, Smile!
Stay in your Bibles, my little bibles
For Love is your title
Not your mind of idol!!
1-2-10 johnmosesfreeman@yahoo.com
UNQUOTABLE QUOTES: XLIV
Don’t translate poems if you want yours read.
A pain in the ass is a pain nevertheless.
A « race" in any other language is still the shape of the nose.
Every cloud hides shining gold that reveals the silver lining.
It’s the darkest cloak which keeps its silver from jingling in its lining.
Every clout makes you see silver stars while lining up for more stout.
It never rains but giggles.
Don’t put all your eggs in one basket; just lay them.
The child is farther from the man.
Spare the rod and drill the child (with electric…)
The proof of the pudding is in the ridding
Burn the candle at both ends and end up keeping midnight oil vigil in the igloo.
Do tight-rope walkers eat only string hoppers?
The Piped-Piper pipes a pitiful panegyric to Pan past the precipice…
The « dachshund" trotting out on an outing with its master never fails to take its house - under the same roof - for an airing.
Even a stitch in time cannot save the rhyme in the above run-on line.
Rats tend to desert a ship full of lousy fat cats.
The pot calling the wok : mad !
The wok calling the kettle: cad !
The kettle calling the pan: bad !
The pan calling the cook: lad !
The cook calling the « chef": Dad !
All groggy agog and cooking glad !
A chip of the old computer hard-disk block.
All the World’s a cage.
An eye for an eye multiplies drives; tit for tat and that’s that.
Two and Two make Two times Two.
2 + Too make Two Toos. No?
If you beat about the bush, the Bushes most likely’ll not complain, but if you beat the Bushes, you would have nothing to gain.
A State within a State (l’Etat dans l’Etat), a Nation breeds a single State, yet no Nation or State rules those who secretly usurp the State.
If you went and told it to the Marines every time somebody tells you to, you’ll have precious little left to tell your psychoanalyst, psychiatrist or Priest, but fat chance the Church will close down even if you shut up for good.
(c) T. Wignesan - Paris, June 21, 2019
Epigram 1
If you see a man in the park
Looking up to the sky, ignore him.
He is most likely a poet
Lost in the labyrinth of words.
Epigram2
Do not assume the man in the park
Dressed in a woolly overcoat and
Laughing like he is looking into
A kaleidoscope is necessarily a poet.
Epigram 3
If you see a man in a café writing
Something in his note pad, he is
Most likely an accountant late for
Work, evaluating his excuses.
UNQUOTABLE QUOTES - XLIII(Continued)
A black-listed writer tops every publisher’s reading list.
Half a loaf is better than no love.
Don’t dig your ears while tying your shoe laces. Just wear slippers.
Eat only what’s available in the stable if you’re able to put it on the table.
A friend in need is a friend who feeds your greed.
Take care of the Ps and the wife will take good care to Pound you.
A journey of a thousand miles ends with the last step, said Old Tse.
Kill not the brother-in-law, not until the sister is dead.
If you butter your bread on both sides, you’ll better learn the art of licking hands.
Hang not the hangman with his own noose. Make sure to shoot him before you hang him.
Even a blind cat has to rat-race.
Take the load off your own fat before you scat.
Shoot to kill only if your will will not let you stand still.
A marked man is the marksman’s man.
A dime a dozen always turns up when you’re frozen.
He who cries thief - even in mischief - is often the chief of the thieves.
Turn coat and betray the holes in your shirt.
A snake in the grass cannot tell leather souls from top brass.
Early to bed makes the lass grow stealthy, squelchy and full of lice but nice.
Immolate yourself and learn that you can moult your soul.
Even if you’re forced to burn your boats, you'll always stay afloat by eating oats.
Where there’s a will, there’s no giving way/away.
Run with the hares and you’ll surely drop into snares.
Hunt with the hounds and you’ll surely make many kinds of sounds.
Run with the hares and hunt with the hounds and you’ll eat yourself out-of-bounds.
Birds of a feather pay the same tailor.
What goes up bursts into fireworks before it comes down in fluff and ash.
All that glitters cannot be sold unless you run your own tv show.
If you judge books by their torn covers, you’ll probably end up singing Op(e)rah in Amanpour.
If you kick the can down the street often enough, you’ll end up in the Women’s World Cup canned.
(c) T. Wignesan - Paris, June 18, 2019
Ancient Greek and Roman Epigrams I
Wall, we're astonished that you haven't collapsed,
since you're holding up verses so prolapsed!
Ancient Roman graffiti, translation by Michael R. Burch
You begrudge men your virginity?
Why? To what purpose?
You will find no one to embrace you in the grave.
The joys of love are for the living.
But in Acheron, dear virgin,
we shall all lie dust and ashes.
—Asclepiades of Samos, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Let me live with joy today, since tomorrow is unforeseeable.
?Michael R Burch, after Palladas of Alexandria
Now his voice is prisoned in the silent pathways of the night:
his owner’s faithful Maltese...
but will he still bark again, on sight?
?Michael R Burch, after Tymnes
Poor partridge, poor partridge, lately migrated from the rocks;
our cat bit off your unlucky head; my offended heart still balks!
I put you back together again and buried you, so unsightly!
May the dark earth cover you heavily: heavily, not lightly...
so she shan’t get at you again!
?Michael R Burch, after Agathias
Hunter partridge,
we no longer hear your echoing cry
along the forest's dappled feeding ground
where, in times gone by,
you would decoy speckled kinsfolk to their doom,
luring them on,
for now you too have gone
down the dark path to Acheron.
?Michael R Burch, after Simmias
Wert thou, O Artemis,
overbusy with thy beast-slaying hounds
when the Beast embraced me?
?Michael R Burch, after Diodorus of Sardis
Dead as you are, though you lie as
still as cold stone, huntress Lycas,
my great Thessalonian hound,
the wild beasts still fear your white bones;
craggy Pelion remembers your valor,
splendid Ossa, the way you would bound
and bay at the moon for its whiteness
as below we heard valleys resound.
And how brightly with joy you would leap and run
the strange lonely peaks of high Cithaeron!
?Michael R Burch, after Simonides
Keywords/Tags: ancient, Greek, epigram, epigrams, epitaph, epitaphs, translations, elegy, elegies, eulogy, eulogies, death, grave, funeral, lament, mourning, loss, pain, bereavement
CATS AND CATS
At night all the male cats
they are gray and the female cats
suited to them ...
OVERPOPULATION
The earth has 7 billion
inhabitants and plus those
the novelists and filmmakers
create ...
MY DAUGHTER
She loves men as much as
the horses ... and have them on the short bridle
as you do in the trot ...
PS my adaptations to the epigrams
from my friend the french poet
Barbara Botton
OBITUARY NOTICE - FISHERMAN PETER HOOK
Life was too much to tackle
OBITUARY NOTICE - PALEONTOLOGIST GEORGE FOOT
His death revealed many skeletons in the cupboard
OBITUARY NOTICE - BOB PANE
He had more than his fair share of ups and downs
01.06.20
Wit words well
Truth thrills tell
~~~~~~~~~
Just joy juice
Niche nice noose
~~~~~~~~~
Work words wise
Spread sure spice
~~~~~~~~~
Here heap health
Wake warm wealth
~~~~~~~~~
Live long lull
Cast cool cull
~~~~~~~~~
Lift last light
Bless buzz bright
~~~~~~~~~
Cheer charms chase
Proof primes pace
~~~~~~~~~
Yes yields yoke
Plot prompts poke
~~~~~~~~~
Note nice nook
Bright beams book
~~~~~~~~~
Dance deep dream
Sense swift streams
~~~~~~~~~
Meek moon mulls
Daze drifts dull
~~~~~~~~~
Leon Enriquez
05 March 2019
Singapore
Ancient Greek and Roman Epigrams
Stranger, rest your weary legs beneath the elms;
hear how coolly the breeze murmurs through their branches;
then take a bracing draught from the mountain-fed fountain;
for this is welcome shade from the burning sun.
—Anyte, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Here I stand, Hermes, in the crossroads
by the windswept elms near the breezy beach,
providing rest to sunburned travelers,
and cold and brisk is my fountain’s abundance.
—Anyte, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Sit here, quietly shaded by the luxuriant foliage,
and drink cool water from the sprightly spring,
so that your weary breast, panting with summer’s labors,
may take rest from the blazing sun.
—Anyte, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
This is the grove of Cypris,
for it is fair for her to look out over the land to the bright deep,
that she may make the sailors’ voyages happy,
as the sea trembles, observing her brilliant image.
—Anyte, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
There is nothing sweeter than love.
All other delights are secondary.
Thus, I spit out even honey.
This is what Gnossis says:
Whom Aphrodite does not love,
Is bereft of her roses.
—Nossis, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Most revered Hera, the oft-descending from heaven,
behold your Lacinian shrine fragrant with incense
and receive the linen robe your noble child Nossis,
daughter of Theophilis and Cleocha, has woven for you.
—Nossis, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Stranger, if you sail to Mitylene, my homeland of beautiful dances,
to indulge in the most exquisite graces of Sappho,
remember I also was loved by the Muses, who bore me and reared me there.
My name, never forget it!, is Nossis. Now go!
—Nossis, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Pass me with ringing laughter, then award me
a friendly word: I am Rinthon, scion of Syracuse,
a small nightingale of the Muses; from their tragedies
I was able to pluck an ivy, unique, for my own use.
—Nossis, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Keywords: ancient, Greek, translation, epigram, epigrams, epitaph, epitaphs, lament, mourning, funeral, grave, death, death of a friend, dead, bereavement, eulogy, funeral, goodbye, loss
Epigrams II
Sex Hex
by Michael R. Burch
Love's full of cute paradoxes
(and highly acute poxes).
***
Midnight Stairclimber
by Michael R. Burch
Procreation
is at first great sweaty recreation,
then—long, long after the sex dies—
the source of endless exercise.
***
The One True Poem
by Michael R. Burch
Love was not meaningless ...
nor your embrace, nor your kiss.
And though every god proved a phantom,
still you were divine to your last dying atom ...
So that when you are gone
and, yea, not a word remains of this poem,
even so,
We were One.
***
The Poem of Poems
by Michael R. Burch
for Beth
This is my Poem of Poems, for you.
Every word ineluctably true:
I love you.
***
Here and Hereafter
by Michael R. Burch
Life’s saving graces are love, pleasure, laughter ...
wisdom, it seems, is for the Hereafter.
***
Meal Deal
by Michael R. Burch
Love is a splendid ideal
(at least till it costs us a meal).
***
Vice Grip
There’s no need to rant about Al-Qaeda and ISIS.
The cruelty of “civilization” suffices:
our ordinary vices.
***
Piecemeal
by Michael R. Burch
And so it begins—the ending.
The narrowing veins, the soft tissues rending.
Your final solution is pending.
***
The Whole of Wit
by Michael R. Burch
for Richard Moore
If brevity is the soul of wit
then brevity and levity
are the whole of it.
***
Redefinitions
Faith: falling into the same old claptrap.—Michael R. Burch
Religion: the ties that blind.—Michael R. Burch
Baseball: lots of spittin’ mixed with some hittin’.—Michael R. Burch
Trickle down economics: an especially pungent golden shower.—Michael R. Burch
Poetry: the art of finding the right word at the right time.—Michael R. Burch
It is not possible
refuse to die
or to live...!
live in leaps
and ravines, is a way
of living too...
not even death
give us rest
in life...
Death does not release us
from life...
the opposite is true
equally... !
Death is the mother of life,
life is spawn of death...
Divine plan!
Epigrams V
Are mayflies missed by mountains? Do stars
applaud the glowworm’s stellar mimicry?
—Michael R. Burch
Teach me to love:
to fly beyond sterile Mars
to percolating Venus.
—Michael R. Burch
Byron
was not a shy one,
as peacocks run.
—Michael R. Burch
When I visited Lord Byron's residence at Newstead Abbey, there were peacocks running around the grounds, which I thought appropriate.
Less Heroic Couplets: Unsmiley Simile, or, Down Time
by Michael R. Burch
Quora is down!
I frown:
how long can the universe suffice
without its ad-vice?
"Lu Zhai" ("Deer Park")
by Wang Wei (699-759)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Uninhabited hills ...
except that now and again the silence is broken
by something like the sound of distant voices
as the sun's sinking rays illuminate lichens ...
Swiftly the years mount
by T'ao Ch'ien
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Swiftly the years mount, exceeding remembrance.
Solemn the stillness of this spring morning.
I will clothe myself in my spring attire
then revisit the slopes of the Eastern Hill
where over a mountain stream a mist hovers,
hovers an instant, then scatters.
Scatters with a wind blowing in from the South
as it nuzzles the fields of new corn.
War, the God
by Michael R. Burch
War lifts His massive head and turns...
The world upon its axis spins.
... His head held low from weight of horns,
His hackles high. The sun He scorns
and seeks the rose not, but its thorns.
The sun must set, as night begins,
while, unrepentant of our sins,
we play His game, until He wins.
For War, our God, our bellicose Mars,
still rules our heavens, dominates our stars.
Shotgun Bedding
by Michael R. Burch
A pedestrian pediatrician
set out on a dangerous mission;
though his child bride, Lolita,
was a sweet senorita,
her pa’s shotgun cut off his emissions!
Keywords/Tags: epigram, epigrams, mayfly, mayflies, mountain, mountains, star, stars, stellar, glowworm, firefly, mimic, mimicry, irony, jealousy, judgement, life, mortality, loss, nature, transience, Quora
These are epigrams by Michael R. Burch
Road to Recovery
by Michael R. Burch
It’s time to get up and at ’em
and out of this rut that I’m sat in.
A man may attempt to burnish pure gold, but who can think to improve on his mother?—Mahatma Gandhi, translation by Michael R. Burch
A mother's heart is God's ultimate masterpiece.—St. Therese of Lisieux, translation by Michael R. Burch
Fools call wisdom foolishness.—Euripides, translation by Michael R. Burch
My objective is not to side with the majority, but to avoid the ranks of the insane.—Marcus Aurelius, translation by Michael R. Burch
I discovered the Goddess in your body's curves and crevasses.—attributed to Sappho, translation by Michael R. Burch
Warmthless beauty attracts but does not engage us; it floats like hookless bait.—Capito, translation by Michael R. Burch
Experience is the best teacher but a hard taskmaster.—Michael R. Burch
Time will tell, as it always does in the end.—Michael R. Burch
Time flies, until it's flown.—Michael R. Burch
How can the Bible be "infallible" when from beginning to end it commands and condones but never once condemns the satanic institution of slavery?—Michael R. Burch
Atheists give God the "benefit of the doubt."—Michael R. Burch
The enemy is not without, but within our gates; it is with our own complacence, our own folly, our own cutthroats and criminals that we must contend. — Cicero, translation by Michael R. Burch
Keywords/Tags: epigrams, road, recovery, rut, Sappho, goddess, beauty, wisdom, mother, god, teacher, time, bible
Poets, let us always unite
in the most noble crusade...
to bring peace and beauty to life!
Scarcity is good for the economy
but very bad for the poor
who need great abundance...
To understand life well,
and to live it happily,
we need good practices and ideas...
It is very difficult for us to refuse
a good and happy life...
impossible to accept a good death...
MOON
She silvers me with pure love,
I refuse with embarrassment,
she is everyone and no one's...
Poet, a strange fellow...
he projects himself in the face of danger,
he walks on the edge of the abyss...
Poet, you are truly a stranger...
He cries a lot without feeling pain,
he smiles even when he loses a love!