Pour Out Poems - Poems about Pour Out

The Dead Pour Me Out Like Tea

I am dead to many, a few are dead to me.
I am forgotten 
by girls in green silk sarongs

yet they still pour me out like tea.

The dead are drunk on themselves,
as I am.

I throw up
a timeworn rope of thought

they haul me up
just enough for me to see
the moon
caught in a teacup,

then I allow them,
let them

Tea Time

It's almost half past three
time to cosy up for tea
kettle's on the boil to brew
tea for two me and you
with egg and cress or
cucumber sandwiches
with nary a single crust
(they were all donated
to the National Trust)
it's after forty to four
shall I be Mother and pour
I know you know Pekoe
the table's set quite daintily
two for tea you

Let It Pour

From a gentle sprinkling
That keeps the garden fresh and green
To a raging summer storm
Where lightening cracks and thunder roars
From a tiny little stream
Right up to an awesome flood
Constant is the flow of our Lord’s love!

Some might pray the Lord to bless 
The desert’s heat and aridness.
Looking for the Savior’s pow’r
Their heart and soul to bloom

Arthur Rimbaud translations of Antico, Reve Pour l'hiver and Dawn

Arthur Rimbaud Translations of Antico (“Ancient” or “Antique”), Rêvé Pour l'hiver (“Winter Dream”), and Dawn



Antico (“Ancient” or “Antique”)
by Arthur Rimbaud
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Graceful son of Pan! Around your brow, crowned with flowers and berries, your eyes, lustrous spheres, revolve. Your cheeks, stained with wine sediments, seem hollow. Your white fangs gleam. Your lyre-like

I Want to Pour It Out

I want to pour it out, I want to pour it!
Inhaling the scent of my grandchild's glee,
I dreamed of blooming, oh, how I longed to be.
Yet fate's script seems to bind me tight,
Why has my path been shrouded at night?

Endlessly entranced by my grandchild’s joy,
I hoped for abundance, like a carefree boy.
But Allah asks not

Blessings on you

Speak our language of love.
Lip sync--forever young,
Free fun, keep love alive,
Pour blessings on your delights,
Never give up your dreams,
Inner peace, now and always.
All good, enough said,
Smiles and happy cheers!

Out pour

A strange experience though 
Engulfed it anyhow
 
Your silence: a midnight forest
Piercing arrows, gruesome at the best

All the faculties of head had dried up but
You watered such 
That it flooded

Good betrays in this world sometimes 
You are given but worst reward; grapes and limes

Oh! That muse of poetry 
Is it that you waited for
No! No

Pour your heart

                                            Be like flowers
        

Drop the Reins and Pour Me a Drink

    The dog days of summer, certainly here
    Every half-hour, another shot of beer
        Too lazy to move
        I’m stuck in a groove
    Glad my new car doesn’t need me to steer

Love and sing! Oh, you, who pour from the nectar of your love

Love and sing! Oh, you, who pour from the nectar of your love,
Elixir of desire, a caress for my thirsty heart,
Feet caught in the satin of destiny,
Seeking magical paths, hidden in the surreal white of the full moon.
Banish me, scold me, and tell me,
Why are you the air I breathe day by day?
How can a

PRAISE BE TO GOD TO WHOM WE POUR OUT OUR TEARS UNTO

June 4 Praises to God Bible Meditations Based on Job 16-18

Key Verse – Job 16:20 My friends scorn me: but mine eye poureth out tears unto God.

PRAISE BE TO GOD TO WHOM WE POUR OUT 
OUR TEARS UNTO	

Praise be to God to Whom we pour out our tears unto for:
Joy of no joke
Justice midst jesting
Joviality

RAINS DOWN POUR-

Attaches onto the trees and ground
Quicken waters falling down
From space it caresses mixes with air
Sunshine eyes glimpse glistens bare
~
Flashing droplets down pour dips
Dew point pressure magnificent
Clutching the brief clouds first burst
Inclement moisten shroud rainfall first

3/14/24
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr 2024

Pour The Seawater Into A Shell

Pour the seawater into a shell
and hear each sound of the ocean,
you can own some of it 'till it dries out;
would you become a captain
and sail away to seek adventures?
Tempestuous oceans frighten, 
grit keeps brave sailors alive and alert...
who has ever survived with a feeble will?
Have you traveled by sea and felt distress:
were you serenaded

Pour reeding and righting

 

Word blindness shore maid my life hell
When righting two my buddy Mel
Ironic indeed
Butt wee both agreed
Dyslexia’s sew hard too spell!

La Ballade Pour Adeline

Note:  In 1976, Richard Clayderman (real name Philippe Pagès) received a telephone call from a well-known French record producer, who was looking for a pianist to record a gentle piano ballad. Paul had composed this ballad as a tribute to his newborn second daughter “Adeline”.  The 23-year-old Philippe Pagès was auditioned along with

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