The chill is here.
The sky never
bluer.
The colors turn,
with leaves ever
fewer.
Until a last
hanger-on yields
to a weak breeze.
Autumn [Lyric Poem]
2
Tag Archives: Lyric Poem
AUSTRIA LIMERICK
There once was a man from Austria
prone to coffee house nausea.
“Our cafés are held dear,
but I can’t go near…”
said that lonely, skinny man of Austria.
Share on Facebook, Twitter, Email, etc.
Different Wavelengths [Lyric Poem]
The parrot stands, as if jilted.
The chipmunk sniffs, as if intrigued.
Parrot behaves ever so stilted.
Chipmunk is just hungry and fatigued.
Share on Facebook, Twitter, Email, etc.
GEORGIA LIMERICK
There was a famed Georgian vintner
who thought about wines all winter –
as he thought, he drank,
and -- let us be frank –
he became less vintner than drinker.
Share on Facebook, Twitter, Email, etc.
GERMANY LIMERICK
There was a colorblind decorator in Germany
who couldn’t tell crimson from ruby from burgundy.
Where precision rules
this was less than cool.
Customers saw red as far as the eye can see.
Share on Facebook, Twitter, Email, etc.
KAZAKHSTAN LIMERICK
There was an Eagle Hunter of Kazakhstan,
which sounds like Eagle was hunted by man,
but the Eagle goes hunting,
the man sits doing nothing –
It’s a sweet gig for Eagle Hunters in Kazakhstan.
Share on Facebook, Twitter, Email, etc.
PERU LIMERICK
There was a Guinea Pig from Peru
who didn’t know just quite what to do.
He’d heard there were places
-- oh, so magical places –
where his kind lived as pets not as food.
Share on Facebook, Twitter, Email, etc.
“Thou Strainest Through the Mountain Fern” (A Fragment) by William Wordsworth [w/ Audio]
Thou strainest through the mountain fern,
A most exiguously thin
Burn.
For all thy foam, for all thy din,
Thee shall the pallid lake inurn,
With well-a-day for Mr. Swin-
Burne!
Take then this quarto in thy fin
And, O thou stoker huge and stern,
The whole affair, outside and in,
Burn!
But save the true poetic kin,
The works of Mr. Robert Burn'
And William Wordsworth upon Tin-
Tern!
Share on Facebook, Twitter, Email, etc.
“Song” by James Joyce [w/ Audio]
My love is in a light attire
Among the apple trees,
Where the gay winds do most desire
To run in companies.
There, where the gay winds stay to woo
The young leaves as they pass,
My love goes slowly, bending to
Her shadow on the grass.
And where the sky’s a pale blue cup
Over the laughing land,
My love goes lightly, holding up
Her dress with dainty hand.
Share on Facebook, Twitter, Email, etc.
“To a Taoist Hermit on Mt. Quanjiao” [寄全椒山中道士] by Wei Yingwu [韦应物]
Today, my office is chilly.
At once, I miss my mountain chum,
Who bound firewood in the valley,
Bringing it back to boil white stones.
I wish I could ladle some wine
To comfort on this stormy night.
But fallen leaves fill mountain hollows,
How could I find a track to follow?
This is poem #29 from the 300 Tang Poems [唐诗三百首], entitled 寄全椒山中道士. The original poem in Simplified Chinese is:
今朝郡斋冷， 忽念山中客；
涧底束荆薪， 归来煮白石。
欲持一瓢酒， 远慰风雨夕。
落叶满空山， 何处寻行迹？
Tiger Riding for Beginners 