It was not Death, for I stood up..
-by #EmilyDickinson
It was not Death, for I stood up,
And all the Dead, lie down—
It was not Night, for all the Bells
Put out their Tongues, for Noon.
It was not Frost, for on my Flesh
I felt Siroccos—crawl—
Nor Fire—for just my Marble feet
Could keep a Chancel, cool—
And yet, it tasted, like them all,
The Figures I have seen
Set orderly, for Burial,
Reminded me, of mine—
As if my life were shaven,
And fitted to a frame,
And could not breathe without a key,
And ’twas like Midnight, some –
When everything that ticked—has stopped—
And Space stares—all around—
Or Grisly frosts—first Autumn morns,
Repeal the Beating Ground—
But, most, like Chaos—Stopless—cool—
Without a Chance, or Spar—
Or even a Report of Land—
To justify—Despair.
#poem
@PensivePost
-by #EmilyDickinson
It was not Death, for I stood up,
And all the Dead, lie down—
It was not Night, for all the Bells
Put out their Tongues, for Noon.
It was not Frost, for on my Flesh
I felt Siroccos—crawl—
Nor Fire—for just my Marble feet
Could keep a Chancel, cool—
And yet, it tasted, like them all,
The Figures I have seen
Set orderly, for Burial,
Reminded me, of mine—
As if my life were shaven,
And fitted to a frame,
And could not breathe without a key,
And ’twas like Midnight, some –
When everything that ticked—has stopped—
And Space stares—all around—
Or Grisly frosts—first Autumn morns,
Repeal the Beating Ground—
But, most, like Chaos—Stopless—cool—
Without a Chance, or Spar—
Or even a Report of Land—
To justify—Despair.
#poem
@PensivePost
Skating
-by #EECummings
Spring is past, and Summer's past,
Autumn's come, and going;
Weather seems as though at last
We might get some snowing.
Spring was good, and Summer better,
But the best of all is waiting,-
Madame Winter-don't forget her.-
O
You
Skating!
Spring we welcomed when we met,
Summer was a blessing;
Autumn points to school, but yet
Let's be acquiescing.
Spring had many precious pleasures;
Winter's on a different rating;
She has greater, richer treasures,-
O
You
Skating!
Gleam of ice, and glint of steel,
Jolly, snappy weather;
Glide on ice and joy of zeal,
All, alone, together.
Fickle Spring! Who can imprint her?-
Faithless while she's captivating;
Here's to trusty Madame Winter.-
O
You
Skating!
#poem
@PensivePost
-by #EECummings
Spring is past, and Summer's past,
Autumn's come, and going;
Weather seems as though at last
We might get some snowing.
Spring was good, and Summer better,
But the best of all is waiting,-
Madame Winter-don't forget her.-
O
You
Skating!
Spring we welcomed when we met,
Summer was a blessing;
Autumn points to school, but yet
Let's be acquiescing.
Spring had many precious pleasures;
Winter's on a different rating;
She has greater, richer treasures,-
O
You
Skating!
Gleam of ice, and glint of steel,
Jolly, snappy weather;
Glide on ice and joy of zeal,
All, alone, together.
Fickle Spring! Who can imprint her?-
Faithless while she's captivating;
Here's to trusty Madame Winter.-
O
You
Skating!
#poem
@PensivePost
I like a good sausage, I do;
It's a dish for the chosen and few.
Oh, for sausage and mash,
And of mustard a dash
And an egg nicely fried—maybe two?
At breakfast or lunch, or at dinner,
The sausage is always a winner;
If you want a good spread Go for sausage on bread,
And forget all your vows to be slimmer.
'In Praise of the Sausage'
-Ruskin Bond
#poem
@PensivePost
It's a dish for the chosen and few.
Oh, for sausage and mash,
And of mustard a dash
And an egg nicely fried—maybe two?
At breakfast or lunch, or at dinner,
The sausage is always a winner;
If you want a good spread Go for sausage on bread,
And forget all your vows to be slimmer.
'In Praise of the Sausage'
-Ruskin Bond
#poem
@PensivePost
Give to me the life I love,
Let the lave go by me,
Give the jolly heaven above And the byway nigh me.
Bed in the bush with stars to see,
Bread I dip in the river--
There's the life for a man like me,
There's the life for ever.
By R L Stevenson
@PensivePost #poem
Let the lave go by me,
Give the jolly heaven above And the byway nigh me.
Bed in the bush with stars to see,
Bread I dip in the river--
There's the life for a man like me,
There's the life for ever.
By R L Stevenson
@PensivePost #poem
Many can cook stories in their head, but only a few dare to write and serve it!
📣So, here we announce the best entry for @WritersClub Dialogue Writing Challenge held on 4 July'18 by Lea
#wcdc
🔸“You know, I’ve always hated these things. All these people in their fancy suits pretending to give a damn about the rest of us. It’s all just for image I tell you”
🔹“Hey, at least they showed up, I bet half of these people would rather be in bed than this place”
🔸“I’d rather be in bed than this place. At least a bed doesn’t judge your clothes”
🔹“Remember, you were the one that insisted we don’t bother changing our work clothes, I was the one who opted for tuxes but nope” There’s a slight pause before he gets a reply from his partner.
🔸 “Hm, on second thought, let them stare, when they find out we’re richer than the whole lot of them combined, they’ll be wishing it was us they were being all nice to”
🔹 “I forgot that we’re here to spend money. I was beginning to think you dragged the both of us to another one of those useless benefits”
🔸 “Nope, and we’re here to get the prize of the show. That tablet over there costs a fortune, it’s absolutely priceless, and all theses buggers want it”
🔹 “Tell me, why are we buying this thing? You don’t even like art”
🔸“I’ve got money to burn and besides, after I buy it, I’ll keep it for a bit, then sell it back to one of these pansies for more”
🔹“Why am I here then? Our bank accounts are shared”
🔸 “You are here because all these old, rich folk, are also old in their ways. When they find out that we’re married and beat them to the prize, it’ll be a much better victory” A familiar smirk appears on his partners face.
🔹“And that my good man, is why I married you. In the meantime I’ll be at the bar”
#inkslingers
📣So, here we announce the best entry for @WritersClub Dialogue Writing Challenge held on 4 July'18 by Lea
#wcdc
🔸“You know, I’ve always hated these things. All these people in their fancy suits pretending to give a damn about the rest of us. It’s all just for image I tell you”
🔹“Hey, at least they showed up, I bet half of these people would rather be in bed than this place”
🔸“I’d rather be in bed than this place. At least a bed doesn’t judge your clothes”
🔹“Remember, you were the one that insisted we don’t bother changing our work clothes, I was the one who opted for tuxes but nope” There’s a slight pause before he gets a reply from his partner.
🔸 “Hm, on second thought, let them stare, when they find out we’re richer than the whole lot of them combined, they’ll be wishing it was us they were being all nice to”
🔹 “I forgot that we’re here to spend money. I was beginning to think you dragged the both of us to another one of those useless benefits”
🔸 “Nope, and we’re here to get the prize of the show. That tablet over there costs a fortune, it’s absolutely priceless, and all theses buggers want it”
🔹 “Tell me, why are we buying this thing? You don’t even like art”
🔸“I’ve got money to burn and besides, after I buy it, I’ll keep it for a bit, then sell it back to one of these pansies for more”
🔹“Why am I here then? Our bank accounts are shared”
🔸 “You are here because all these old, rich folk, are also old in their ways. When they find out that we’re married and beat them to the prize, it’ll be a much better victory” A familiar smirk appears on his partners face.
🔹“And that my good man, is why I married you. In the meantime I’ll be at the bar”
#inkslingers
An artist can paint the life and a poet can bring life in his/her words..
📣We announce the best entry of @WritersClub Poetry Challenge held on 6 July'18 based on the theme Colours Vs Words and it is submitted by Anchana.
#wpc
In anguish, his strokes
splatter drops of colour.
Marring his canvas, her
Wounded whispers speak
Like an unwritten poetry
Defying the boundaries
Of life and death.
#inkslingers
📣We announce the best entry of @WritersClub Poetry Challenge held on 6 July'18 based on the theme Colours Vs Words and it is submitted by Anchana.
#wpc
In anguish, his strokes
splatter drops of colour.
Marring his canvas, her
Wounded whispers speak
Like an unwritten poetry
Defying the boundaries
Of life and death.
#inkslingers
