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poet_x_poem.id | poet.id | poet.ts | poet.title | poem.id | poem.ts | poem.title | poem.date | poem.content | poem.author |
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50 | 2 | 2018-02-28 20:19:00 | Maya Angelou | 50 | 2018-03-01 03:46:26 | Ain't That Bad? | 3/9/2016 | Dancin' the funky chickenEatin' ribs and tipsDiggin' all the latest soundsAnd drinkin' gin in sips.Puttin' down that do-ragTighten' up my 'froWrappin' up in BlacknessDon't I shine and glow?Hearin' Stevie WonderCookin' beans and riceGoin' to the operaCheckin' out Leontyne Price.Get down, Jesse JacksonDance on, Alvin AileyTalk, Miss Barbara JordanGroove, Miss Pearlie Bailey.Now ain't they bad?An ain't they Black?An ain't they Black?An' ain't they Bad?An ain't they bad?An' ain't they Black?An' ain't they fine?Black like the hour of the nightWhen your love turns and wriggles close to your sideBlack as the earth which has given birthTo nations, and when all else is gone will abide.Bad as the storm that leaps raging from the heavensBringing the welcome rainBad as the sun burning orange hot at middayLifting the waters again.Arthur Ashe on the tennis courtMohammed Ali in the ringAndre Watts and Andrew YoungBlack men doing their thing.Dressing in purples and pinks and greensExotic as rum and CokesLiving our lives with flash and styleAin't we colorful folks?Now ain't we bad?An' ain't we Black?An' ain't we Black?An' ain't we bad?An' ain't we bad?An' ain't we Black?An' ain't we fine? |
Maya Angelou |
51 | 2 | 2018-02-28 20:19:00 | Maya Angelou | 51 | 2018-03-01 03:46:29 | When I Think About Myself | 9/15/2015 | When I think about myself, I almost laugh myself to death, My life has been one great big joke, A dance that's walked A song that's spoke, I laugh so hard I almost choke When I think about myself.Sixty years in these folks' world The child I works for calls me girl I say 'Yes ma'am' for working's sake. Too proud to bend Too poor to break, I laugh until my stomach ache, When I think about myself.My folks can make me split my side, I laughed so hard I nearly died, The tales they tell, sound just like lying, They grow the fruit, But eat the rind, I laugh until I start to crying, When I think about my folks. |
Maya Angelou |
52 | 2 | 2018-02-28 20:19:00 | Maya Angelou | 52 | 2018-03-01 03:46:35 | Son to Mother | 3/9/2016 | I start nowars, raining poisonon cathedrals,melting Stars of Davidinto golden faucetsto be lighted by lampsshaded by human skin.I set nostore on the strange lands,send nomissionaries beyond myborders,to plunder secretsand barter souls.Theysay you took my manhood,Momma.Come sit on my lapand tell me,what do you want me to sayto them, justbefore I annihilatetheir ignorance ? | Maya Angelou |
53 | 2 | 2018-02-28 20:19:00 | Maya Angelou | 53 | 2018-03-01 03:46:38 | The Health-Food Diner | 12/16/2014 | The Health-Food DinerNo sprouted wheat and soya shootsAnd Brussels in a cake,Carrot straw and spinach raw,(Today, I need a steak).Not thick brown rice and rice pilawOr mushrooms creamed on toast,Turnips mashed and parsnips hashed,(I'm dreaming of a roast).Health-food folks around the worldAre thinned by anxious zeal,They look for help in seafood kelp(I count on breaded veal).No smoking signs, raw mustard greens,Zucchini by the ton,Uncooked kale and bodies frailAre sure to make me runtoLoins of pork and chicken thighsAnd standing rib, so prime,Pork chops brown and fresh ground round(I crave them all the time).Irish stews and boiled corned beefand hot dogs by the scores,or any place that saves a spaceFor smoking carnivores. |
Maya Angelou |
54 | 2 | 2018-02-28 20:19:00 | Maya Angelou | 54 | 2018-03-01 03:46:43 | On Aging | 5/14/2015 | When you see me sitting quietly,Like a sack left on the shelf,Don’t think I need your chattering.I’m listening to myself.Hold! Stop! Don’t pity me! Hold! Stop your sympathy! Understanding if you got it,Otherwise I’ll do without it! When my bones are stiff and aching,And my feet won’t climb the stair,I will only ask one favor:Don’t bring me no rocking chair.When you see me walking, stumbling,Don’t study and get it wrong.‘Cause tired don’t mean lazyAnd every goodbye ain’t gone.I’m the same person I was back then,A little less hair, a little less chin,A lot less lungs and much less wind.But ain’t I lucky I can still breathe in. |
Maya Angelou |
55 | 2 | 2018-02-28 20:19:00 | Maya Angelou | 55 | 2018-03-01 03:46:49 | These Yet To Be United States | 1/17/2015 | Tremors of your network cause kings to disappear. Your open mouth in anger makes nations bow in fear.Your bombs can change the seasons, obliterate the spring. What more do you long for ? Why are you suffering ?You control the human lives in Rome and Timbuktu. Lonely nomads wandering owe Telstar to you.Seas shift at your bidding, your mushrooms fill the sky. Why are you unhappy ? Why do your children cry ?They kneel alone in terror with dread in every glance. Their nights ['rights' ? - Schrift nicht lesbar] are threatened daily by a grim inheritance.You dwell in whitened castles with deep and poisoned moats and cannot hear the curses which fill your children's throats. |
Maya Angelou |
56 | 2 | 2018-02-28 20:19:00 | Maya Angelou | 56 | 2018-03-01 03:46:54 | Preacher, Don't Send Me | 3/9/2016 | Preacher, don't send mewhen I dieto some big ghettoin the skywhere rats eat catsof the leopard typeand Sunday brunchis grits and tripe.I've known those ratsI've seen them killand grits I've hadwould make a hill,or maybe a mountain,so what I needfrom you on Sundayis a different creed.Preacher, please don'tpromise mestreets of goldand milk for free.I stopped all milkat four years oldand once I'm deadI won't need gold.I'd call a placepure paradisewhere families are loyaland strangers are nice,where the music is jazzand the season is fall.Promise me thator nothing at all. |
Maya Angelou |
57 | 2 | 2018-02-28 20:19:00 | Maya Angelou | 57 | 2018-03-01 03:46:59 | Pickin Em Up and Layin Em Down | 3/9/2016 | There's a long-legged girlin San Franciscoby the Golden Gate.She said she'd give me all I wantedbut I just couldn't wait.I started toPickin em up and layin em down,Pickin em up and layin em down,Pickin em up and layin em down,gettin to the next townBaby.There's a pretty brownin Birmingham.Boys, she little and cutebut when she like to tied me downI had to grab my suit and started toPickin em up and layin em down,Pickin em up and layin em down,Pickin em up and layin em down,getting to the next townBaby.I met that lovely Detroit ladyand thought my time had comeBut just before I said "I do"I said "I got to run" and started toPickin em up and layin em down,Pickin em up and layin em down,Pickin em up and layin em down,getting to the next townBaby.There ain't no words for what I feelabout a pretty faceBut if I stay I just might missa prettier one some placeI started toPickin em up and layin em down,Pickin em up and layin em down,Pickin em up and layin em down,getting to the next townBaby. |
Maya Angelou |
58 | 2 | 2018-02-28 20:19:00 | Maya Angelou | 58 | 2018-03-01 03:47:05 | Recovery | 3/9/2016 | A Last love,proper in conclusion,should snip the wingsforbidding further flight.But I, now,reft of that confusion,am lifted upand speeding toward the light. | Maya Angelou |
59 | 2 | 2018-02-28 20:19:00 | Maya Angelou | 59 | 2018-03-01 03:47:08 | I know why the caged bird sings | 3/9/2016 | A free bird leaps on the backOf the wind and floats downstream Till the current ends and dips his wing In the orange suns raysAnd dares to claim the sky.But a BIRD that stalks down his narrow cageCan seldom see through his bars of rageHis wings are clipped and his feet are tiedSo he opens his throat to sing.The caged bird sings with a fearful trillOf things unknown but longed for stillAnd his tune is heard on the distant hill forThe caged bird sings of freedom.The free bird thinks of another breezeAnd the trade winds soft throughThe sighing treesAnd the fat worms waiting on a dawn-brightLawn and he names the sky his own.But a caged BIRD stands on the grave of dreamsHis shadow shouts on a nightmare screamHis wings are clipped and his feet are tiedSo he opens his throat to sing.The caged bird sings withA fearful trill of things unknownBut longed for still and hisTune is heard on the distant hillFor the caged bird sings of freedom. |
Maya Angelou |
60 | 2 | 2018-02-28 20:19:00 | Maya Angelou | 60 | 2018-03-01 03:47:12 | When Great Trees Fall | 2/15/2016 | Maya Angelou | |
61 | 2 | 2018-02-28 20:19:00 | Maya Angelou | 61 | 2018-03-01 03:47:16 | Old Folks Laugh | 2/10/2015 | They have spent theircontent of simpering,holding their lips thisand that way, windingthe lines betweentheir brows. Old folksallow their bellies to jiggle like slowtambourines.The hollersrise up and spillover any way they want.When old folks laugh, they free the world.They turn slowly, slyly knowingthe best and the worstof remembering.Saliva glistens inthe corners of their mouths,their heads wobbleon brittle necks, buttheir lapsare filled with memories.When old folks laugh, they consider the promiseof dear painless death, and generouslyforgive life for happeningto them. |
Maya Angelou |
62 | 2 | 2018-02-28 20:19:00 | Maya Angelou | 62 | 2018-03-01 03:47:17 | Televised | 3/9/2016 | Maya Angelou | |
63 | 2 | 2018-02-28 20:19:00 | Maya Angelou | 63 | 2018-03-01 03:47:23 | Life Doesn't Frighten Me | 8/6/2015 | Shadows on the wallNoises down the hallLife doesn't frighten me at all Bad dogs barking loudBig ghosts in a cloudLife doesn't frighten me at all Mean old Mother GooseLions on the looseThey don't frighten me at all Dragons breathing flameOn my counterpaneThat doesn't frighten me at all. I go booMake them shooI make funWay they runI won't crySo they flyI just smileThey go wild Life doesn't frighten me at all. Tough guys fightAll alone at nightLife doesn't frighten me at all. Panthers in the parkStrangers in the darkNo, they don't frighten me at all. That new classroom whereBoys all pull my hair(Kissy little girlsWith their hair in curls)They don't frighten me at all. Don't show me frogs and snakesAnd listen for my scream,If I'm afraid at allIt's only in my dreams. I've got a magic charmThat I keep up my sleeveI can walk the ocean floorAnd never have to breathe. Life doesn't frighten me at allNot at allNot at all. Life doesn't frighten me at all. |
Maya Angelou |
64 | 2 | 2018-02-28 20:19:00 | Maya Angelou | 64 | 2018-03-01 03:47:26 | Savior | 3/9/2016 | Maya Angelou | |
65 | 2 | 2018-02-28 20:19:00 | Maya Angelou | 65 | 2018-03-01 03:47:30 | California Prodigal | 1/23/2012 | Maya Angelou | |
66 | 2 | 2018-02-28 20:19:00 | Maya Angelou | 66 | 2018-03-01 03:47:32 | The Mothering Blackness | 1/23/2012 | Maya Angelou | |
67 | 2 | 2018-02-28 20:19:00 | Maya Angelou | 67 | 2018-03-01 03:47:34 | We Had Him | 1/13/2014 | Maya Angelou | |
68 | 2 | 2018-02-28 20:19:00 | Maya Angelou | 68 | 2018-03-01 03:47:38 | Human Family | 12/4/2014 | I note the obvious differencesin the human family.Some of us are serious,some thrive on comedy.Some declare their lives are livedas true profundity,and others claim they really livethe real reality.The variety of our skin tonescan confuse, bemuse, delight,brown and pink and beige and purple,tan and blue and white.I've sailed upon the seven seasand stopped in every land,I've seen the wonders of the worldnot yet one common man.I know ten thousand womencalled Jane and Mary Jane,but I've not seen any twowho really were the same.Mirror twins are differentalthough their features jibe,and lovers think quite different thoughtswhile lying side by side.We love and lose in China,we weep on England's moors,and laugh and moan in Guinea,and thrive on Spanish shores.We seek success in Finland,are born and die in Maine.In minor ways we differ,in major we're the same.I note the obvious differencesbetween each sort and type,but we are more alike, my friends,than we are unalike.We are more alike, my friends,than we are unalike.We are more alike, my friends,than we are unalike. |
Maya Angelou |
69 | 2 | 2018-02-28 20:19:00 | Maya Angelou | 69 | 2018-03-01 03:47:43 | Kin | 1/23/2012 | Maya Angelou | |
70 | 2 | 2018-02-28 20:19:00 | Maya Angelou | 70 | 2018-03-01 03:47:49 | A Plagued Journey | 1/23/2012 | Maya Angelou | |
71 | 2 | 2018-02-28 20:19:00 | Maya Angelou | 71 | 2018-03-01 03:47:52 | Equality | 1/3/2015 | Maya Angelou | |
72 | 2 | 2018-02-28 20:19:00 | Maya Angelou | 72 | 2018-03-01 03:47:59 | Awaking In New York | 1/23/2012 | Maya Angelou | |
73 | 2 | 2018-02-28 20:19:00 | Maya Angelou | 73 | 2018-03-01 03:48:04 | A Brave And Startling Truth | 1/23/2012 | We, this people, on a small and lonely planet Traveling through casual space Past aloof stars, across the way of indifferent suns To a destination where all signs tell us It is possible and imperative that we learn A brave and startling truth And when we come to it To the day of peacemaking When we release our fingers From fists of hostility And allow the pure air to cool our palms When we come to it When the curtain falls on the minstrel show of hate And faces sooted with scorn are scrubbed clean When battlefields and coliseum No longer rake our unique and particular sons and daughters Up with the bruised and bloody grass To lie in identical plots in foreign soil When the rapacious storming of the churches The screaming racket in the temples have ceased When the pennants are waving gaily When the banners of the world tremble Stoutly in the good, clean breeze When we come to it When we let the rifles fall from our shoulders And children dress their dolls in flags of truce When land mines of death have been removed And the aged can walk into evenings of peace When religious ritual is not perfumed By the incense of burning flesh And childhood dreams are not kicked awake By nightmares of abuse When we come to it Then we will confess that not the Pyramids With their stones set in mysterious perfection Nor the Gardens of Babylon Hanging as eternal beauty In our collective memory Not the Grand Canyon Kindled into delicious color By Western sunsets Nor the Danube, flowing its blue soul into Europe Not the sacred peak of Mount Fuji Stretching to the Rising Sun Neither Father Amazon nor Mother Mississippi who, without favor, Nurture all creatures in the depths and on the shores These are not the only wonders of the world When we come to it We, this people, on this minuscule and kithless globe Who reach daily for the bomb, the blade and the dagger Yet who petition in the dark for tokens of peace We, this people on this mote of matter In whose mouths abide cankerous words Which challenge our very existence Yet out of those same mouths Come songs of such exquisite sweetness That the heart falters in its labor And the body is quieted into awe We, this people, on this small and drifting planet Whose hands can strike with such abandon That in a twinkling, life is sapped from the living Yet those same hands can touch with such healing, irresistible tenderness That the haughty neck is happy to bow And the proud back is glad to bend Out of such chaos, of such contradiction We learn that we are neither devils nor divines When we come to it We, this people, on this wayward, floating body Created on this earth, of this earth Have the power to fashion for this earth A climate where every man and every woman Can live freely without sanctimonious piety Without crippling fear When we come to it We must confess that we are the possible We are the miraculous, the true wonder of this world That is when, and only when We come to it. |
Maya Angelou |
74 | 2 | 2018-02-28 20:19:00 | Maya Angelou | 74 | 2018-03-01 03:48:06 | On The Pulse Of Morning | 1/3/2003 | A Rock, A River, A TreeHosts to species long since departed,Mark the mastodon.The dinosaur, who left dry tokensOf their sojourn hereOn our planet floor,Any broad alarm of their of their hastening doomIs lost in the gloom of dust and ages.But today, the Rock cries out to us, clearly, forcefully,Come, you may stand upon myBack and face your distant destiny,But seek no haven in my shadow.I will give you no hiding place down here.You, created only a little lower thanThe angels, have crouched too long inThe bruising darkness,Have lain too longFace down in ignorance.Your mouths spelling wordsArmed for slaughter.The rock cries out today, you may stand on me,But do not hide your face.Across the wall of the world,A river sings a beautiful song,Come rest here by my side.Each of you a bordered country,Delicate and strangely made proud,Yet thrusting perpetually under siege.Your armed struggles for profitHave left collars of waste uponMy shore, currents of debris upon my breast.Yet, today I call you to my riverside,If you will study war no more.Come, clad in peace and I will sing the songsThe Creator gave to me when IAnd the tree and stone were one.Before cynicism was a bloody sear across your browAnd when you yet knew you still knew nothing.The river sings and sings on.There is a true yearning to respond toThe singing river and the wise rock.So say the Asian, the Hispanic, the Jew,The African and Native American, the Sioux,The Catholic, the Muslim, the French, the Greek,The Irish, the Rabbi, the Priest, the Sheikh,The Gay, the Straight, the Preacher,The privileged, the homeless, the teacher.They hear. They all hearThe speaking of the tree.Today, the first and last of every treeSpeaks to humankind. Come to me, here beside the river.Plant yourself beside me, here beside the river.Each of you, descendant of some passed onTraveller, has been paid for.You, who gave me my first name,You Pawnee, Apache and Seneca,You Cherokee Nation, who rested with me,Then forced on bloody feet,Left me to the employment of other seekers- Desperate for gain, starving for gold.You, the Turk, the Swede, the German, the Scot...You the Ashanti, the Yoruba, the Kru,Bought, sold, stolen, arriving on a nightmarePraying for a dream.Here, root yourselves beside me.I am the tree planted by the river,Which will not be moved.I, the rock, I the river, I the treeI am yours- your passages have been paid.Lift up your faces, you have a piercing needFor this bright morning dawning for you.History, despite its wrenching pain,Cannot be unlived, and if faced with courage,Need not be lived again.Lift up your eyes uponThe day breaking for you.Give birth againTo the dream.Women, children, men,Take it into the palms of your hands.Mold it into the shape of your mostPrivate need. Sculpt it intoThe image of your most public self.Lift up your hearts.Each new hour holds new chancesFor new beginnings.Do not be wedded foreverTo fear, yoked eternallyTo brutishness.The horizon leans forward,Offering you space to place new steps of change.Here, on the pulse of this fine dayYou may have the courageTo look up and out upon me,The rock, the river, the tree, your country.No less to Midas than the mendicant.No less to you now than the mastodon then.Here on the pulse of this new dayYou may have the grace to look up and outAnd into your sister's eyes,Into your brother's face, your countryAnd say simplyVery simplyWith hopeGood morning. |
Maya Angelou |
75 | 2 | 2018-02-28 20:19:00 | Maya Angelou | 75 | 2018-03-01 03:48:12 | Momma Welfare Roll | 1/3/2003 | Maya Angelou | |
76 | 2 | 2018-02-28 20:19:00 | Maya Angelou | 76 | 2018-03-01 03:48:18 | Weekend Glory | 1/3/2003 | Maya Angelou | |
77 | 2 | 2018-02-28 20:19:00 | Maya Angelou | 77 | 2018-03-01 03:48:22 | When You Come | 1/3/2003 | Maya Angelou | |
78 | 2 | 2018-02-28 20:19:00 | Maya Angelou | 78 | 2018-03-01 03:48:28 | The Detached | 6/18/2005 | Maya Angelou | |
79 | 2 | 2018-02-28 20:19:00 | Maya Angelou | 79 | 2018-03-01 03:48:34 | Insomniac | 1/3/2003 | Maya Angelou | |
80 | 2 | 2018-02-28 20:19:00 | Maya Angelou | 80 | 2018-03-01 03:48:39 | Remembrance | 1/3/2003 | Maya Angelou | |
14578 | 2 | 2018-02-28 20:19:00 | Maya Angelou | 14578 | 2018-03-02 01:36:11 | Million Man March Poem | 1/3/2003 | The night has been long,The wound has been deep,The pit has been dark,And the walls have been steep.Under a dead blue sky on a distant beach,I was dragged by my braids just beyond your reach.Your hands were tied, your mouth was bound,You couldn't even call out my name.You were helpless and so was I,But unfortunately throughout historyYou've worn a badge of shame.I say, the night has been long,The wound has been deep,The pit has been darkAnd the walls have been steep.But today, voices of old spirit soundSpeak to us in words profound,Across the years, across the centuries,Across the oceans, and across the seas.They say, draw near to one another,Save your race.You have been paid for in a distant place,The old ones remind us that slavery's chainsHave paid for our freedom again and again.The night has been long,The pit has been deep,The night has been dark,And the walls have been steep.The hells we have lived through and live through still,Have sharpened our senses and toughened our will.The night has been long.This morning I look through your anguishRight down to your soul.I know that with each other we can make ourselves whole.I look through the posture and past your disguise,And see your love for family in your big brown eyes.I say, clap hands and let's come together in this meeting ground,I say, clap hands and let's deal with each other with love,I say, clap hands and let us get from the low road of indifference,Clap hands, let us come together and reveal our hearts,Let us come together and revise our spirits,Let us come together and cleanse our souls,Clap hands, let's leave the preeningAnd stop impostering our own history.Clap hands, call the spirits back from the ledge,Clap hands, let us invite joy into our conversation,Courtesy into our bedrooms,Gentleness into our kitchen,Care into our nursery.The ancestors remind us, despite the history of painWe are a going-on people who will rise again.And still we rise. |
Maya Angelou |
14579 | 2 | 2018-02-28 20:19:00 | Maya Angelou | 14579 | 2018-03-02 01:36:18 | They Went Home | 6/18/2005 | Maya Angelou | |
14580 | 2 | 2018-02-28 20:19:00 | Maya Angelou | 14580 | 2018-03-02 01:36:24 | Passing Time | 1/3/2003 | Maya Angelou | |
14581 | 2 | 2018-02-28 20:19:00 | Maya Angelou | 14581 | 2018-03-02 01:36:30 | A Conceit | 1/3/2003 | Maya Angelou | |
14582 | 2 | 2018-02-28 20:19:00 | Maya Angelou | 14582 | 2018-03-02 01:36:35 | Refusal | 1/3/2003 | Maya Angelou | |
14583 | 2 | 2018-02-28 20:19:00 | Maya Angelou | 14583 | 2018-03-02 01:36:40 | The Lesson | 1/3/2003 | Maya Angelou | |
14584 | 2 | 2018-02-28 20:19:00 | Maya Angelou | 14584 | 2018-03-02 01:36:44 | Men | 1/3/2003 | Maya Angelou | |
14585 | 2 | 2018-02-28 20:19:00 | Maya Angelou | 14585 | 2018-03-02 01:36:50 | Woman Work | 1/3/2003 | Maya Angelou | |
14586 | 2 | 2018-02-28 20:19:00 | Maya Angelou | 14586 | 2018-03-02 01:36:52 | Touched By An Angel | 1/3/2003 | Maya Angelou | |
14587 | 2 | 2018-02-28 20:19:00 | Maya Angelou | 14587 | 2018-03-02 01:36:56 | Alone | 1/3/2003 | Maya Angelou | |
14588 | 2 | 2018-02-28 20:19:00 | Maya Angelou | 14588 | 2018-03-02 01:36:58 | Caged Bird | 1/3/2003 | Maya Angelou | |
14589 | 2 | 2018-02-28 20:19:00 | Maya Angelou | 14589 | 2018-03-02 01:37:02 | Still I Rise | 1/3/2003 | Maya Angelou | |
14590 | 2 | 2018-02-28 20:19:00 | Maya Angelou | 14590 | 2018-03-02 01:37:04 | Phenomenal Woman | 1/3/2003 | Maya Angelou | |
81 | 3 | 2018-02-28 20:20:02 | William Shakespeare | 81 | 2018-03-01 03:48:44 | The Procreation Sonnets (1 - 17) | 3/29/2010 | William Shakespeare | |
82 | 3 | 2018-02-28 20:20:02 | William Shakespeare | 82 | 2018-03-01 03:48:51 | Sonnet Xlv | 5/21/2001 | William Shakespeare | |
83 | 3 | 2018-02-28 20:20:02 | William Shakespeare | 83 | 2018-03-01 03:48:56 | Sonnet Xxiv | 5/21/2001 | William Shakespeare | |
84 | 3 | 2018-02-28 20:20:02 | William Shakespeare | 84 | 2018-03-01 03:49:01 | Sonnet Lxxxvi | 5/21/2001 | William Shakespeare | |
85 | 3 | 2018-02-28 20:20:02 | William Shakespeare | 85 | 2018-03-01 03:49:06 | Sonnet Lxxvi | 12/31/2002 | William Shakespeare | |
86 | 3 | 2018-02-28 20:20:02 | William Shakespeare | 86 | 2018-03-01 03:49:08 | Sonnet Xci | 5/21/2001 | William Shakespeare | |
87 | 3 | 2018-02-28 20:20:02 | William Shakespeare | 87 | 2018-03-01 03:49:12 | The Rival Poet Sonnets (78 - 86) | 3/29/2010 | William Shakespeare | |
88 | 3 | 2018-02-28 20:20:02 | William Shakespeare | 88 | 2018-03-01 03:49:17 | Sonnet Xlix | 5/21/2001 | William Shakespeare | |
89 | 3 | 2018-02-28 20:20:02 | William Shakespeare | 89 | 2018-03-01 03:49:19 | Sonnet Lvi | 5/21/2001 | William Shakespeare | |
90 | 3 | 2018-02-28 20:20:02 | William Shakespeare | 90 | 2018-03-01 03:49:23 | Sonnets Xiv | 1/4/2003 | William Shakespeare | |
91 | 3 | 2018-02-28 20:20:02 | William Shakespeare | 91 | 2018-03-01 03:49:28 | Speech: "Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears" | 10/22/2015 | Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears;I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him.The evil that men do lives after them;The good is oft interred with their bones;So let it be with Caesar. The noble BrutusHath told you Caesar was ambitious:If it were so, it was a grievous fault,And grievously hath Caesar answer'd it.Here, under leave of Brutus and the rest-For Brutus is an honourable man;So are they all, all honourable men-Come I to speak in Caesar's funeral.He was my friend, faithful and just to me:But Brutus says he was ambitious;And Brutus is an honourable man.He hath brought many captives home to RomeWhose ransoms did the general coffers fill:Did this in Caesar seem ambitious?When that the poor have cried, Caesar hath wept:Ambition should be made of sterner stuff:Yet Brutus says he was ambitious;And Brutus is an honourable man.You all did see that on the LupercalI thrice presented him a kingly crown,Which he did thrice refuse: was this ambition?Yet Brutus says he was ambitious;And, sure, he is an honourable man.I speak not to disprove what Brutus spoke,But here I am to speak what I do know.You all did love him once, not without cause:What cause withholds you then, to mourn for him?O judgment! thou art fled to brutish beasts,And men have lost their reason. Bear with me;My heart is in the coffin there with Caesar,And I must pause till it come back to me. |
William Shakespeare |
92 | 3 | 2018-02-28 20:20:02 | William Shakespeare | 92 | 2018-03-01 03:49:32 | Sonnets Xxv: Let Those Who Are In Favour With Their Stars | 1/1/2004 | William Shakespeare | |
93 | 3 | 2018-02-28 20:20:02 | William Shakespeare | 93 | 2018-03-01 03:49:35 | Sonnet Lvii | 5/21/2001 | William Shakespeare | |
94 | 3 | 2018-02-28 20:20:02 | William Shakespeare | 94 | 2018-03-01 03:49:41 | Sonnet Lviii | 5/21/2001 | William Shakespeare | |
95 | 3 | 2018-02-28 20:20:02 | William Shakespeare | 95 | 2018-03-01 03:49:45 | Macbeth, Act IV, Scene I | 8/9/2016 | Three witches, casting a spell ...Round about the cauldron go; In the poison'd entrails throw. Toad, that under cold stone Days and nights hast thirty one Swelter'd venom sleeping got, Boil thou first i' the charmed pot. Double, double toil and trouble; Fire burn and cauldron bubble. Fillet of a fenny snake, In the cauldron boil and bake; Eye of newt, and toe of frog, Wool of bat, and tongue of dog, Adder's fork, and blind-worm's sting, Lizard's leg, and howlet's wing, For a charm of powerful trouble, Like a hell-broth boil and bubble. Double, double toil and trouble; Fire burn and cauldron bubble. |
William Shakespeare |
96 | 3 | 2018-02-28 20:20:02 | William Shakespeare | 96 | 2018-03-01 03:49:50 | Sonnet Xxxiii | 5/21/2001 | William Shakespeare | |
97 | 3 | 2018-02-28 20:20:02 | William Shakespeare | 97 | 2018-03-01 03:49:53 | Sonnet Xli | 5/21/2001 | William Shakespeare | |
98 | 3 | 2018-02-28 20:20:02 | William Shakespeare | 98 | 2018-03-01 03:49:56 | Sonnet Xl | 5/21/2001 | William Shakespeare | |
99 | 3 | 2018-02-28 20:20:02 | William Shakespeare | 99 | 2018-03-01 03:50:00 | Sonnet Xxxix | 5/21/2001 | William Shakespeare | |
100 | 3 | 2018-02-28 20:20:02 | William Shakespeare | 100 | 2018-03-01 03:50:04 | Sonnet Xii | 5/21/2001 | William Shakespeare | |
101 | 3 | 2018-02-28 20:20:02 | William Shakespeare | 101 | 2018-03-01 03:50:08 | Sonnet Lxxi | 12/31/2002 | William Shakespeare | |
102 | 3 | 2018-02-28 20:20:02 | William Shakespeare | 102 | 2018-03-01 03:50:12 | Sonnet Xcix | 5/21/2001 | William Shakespeare | |
103 | 3 | 2018-02-28 20:20:02 | William Shakespeare | 103 | 2018-03-01 03:50:15 | Sonnet Xc | 5/21/2001 | William Shakespeare | |
104 | 3 | 2018-02-28 20:20:02 | William Shakespeare | 104 | 2018-03-01 03:50:18 | Song of the Witches: "Double, double toil and trouble" | 11/20/2015 | Double, double toil and trouble;Fire burn and caldron bubble.Fillet of a fenny snake,In the caldron boil and bake;Eye of newt and toe of frog,Wool of bat and tongue of dog,Adder's fork and blind-worm's sting,Lizard's leg and howlet's wing,For a charm of powerful trouble,Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.Double, double toil and trouble;Fire burn and caldron bubble.Cool it with a baboon's blood,Then the charm is firm and good. |
William Shakespeare |
105 | 3 | 2018-02-28 20:20:02 | William Shakespeare | 105 | 2018-03-01 03:50:24 | Sonnet Xxxvi | 5/21/2001 | William Shakespeare | |
106 | 3 | 2018-02-28 20:20:02 | William Shakespeare | 106 | 2018-03-01 03:50:28 | Sonnet Xxxvii | 5/21/2001 | William Shakespeare | |
107 | 3 | 2018-02-28 20:20:02 | William Shakespeare | 107 | 2018-03-01 03:50:33 | Sonnets Iii | 1/4/2003 | William Shakespeare | |
108 | 3 | 2018-02-28 20:20:02 | William Shakespeare | 108 | 2018-03-01 03:50:40 | Some Say That Ever ‘Gainst That Season Comes (Hamlet, Act I, Scene I) | 6/3/2015 | Marcellus to Horatio and Bernardo, after seeing the Ghost,Some say that ever ‘gainst that season comesWherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated,This bird of dawning singeth all night long;And then, they say, no spirit dare stir abroad,The nights are wholesome, then no planets strike,No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm,So hallow'd and so gracious is the time. | William Shakespeare |
109 | 3 | 2018-02-28 20:20:02 | William Shakespeare | 109 | 2018-03-01 03:50:42 | Sonnet Xcv | 5/21/2001 | William Shakespeare | |
110 | 3 | 2018-02-28 20:20:02 | William Shakespeare | 110 | 2018-03-01 03:50:47 | Sonnet Lxxiii | 12/31/2002 | William Shakespeare | |
111 | 3 | 2018-02-28 20:20:02 | William Shakespeare | 111 | 2018-03-01 03:50:50 | Sonnet Lxxxv | 5/21/2001 | William Shakespeare | |
112 | 3 | 2018-02-28 20:20:02 | William Shakespeare | 112 | 2018-03-01 03:50:54 | Sonnets Xix: Devouring Time, Blunt Thou The Lion's Paws | 1/1/2004 | William Shakespeare | |
113 | 3 | 2018-02-28 20:20:02 | William Shakespeare | 113 | 2018-03-01 03:51:00 | Sonnet X | 5/21/2001 | William Shakespeare | |
114 | 3 | 2018-02-28 20:20:02 | William Shakespeare | 114 | 2018-03-01 03:51:02 | Sonnets To The Sundry Notes Of Music | 3/30/2010 | William Shakespeare | |
115 | 3 | 2018-02-28 20:20:02 | William Shakespeare | 115 | 2018-03-01 03:51:08 | Speech: "Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow" | 7/20/2016 | (from Macbeth, spoken by Macbeth)Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,To the last syllable of recorded time;And all our yesterdays have lighted foolsThe way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player,That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,And then is heard no more. It is a taleTold by an idiot, full of sound and fury,Signifying nothing. |
William Shakespeare |
116 | 3 | 2018-02-28 20:20:02 | William Shakespeare | 116 | 2018-03-01 03:51:12 | Sonnet Viii | 5/21/2001 | William Shakespeare | |
117 | 3 | 2018-02-28 20:20:02 | William Shakespeare | 117 | 2018-03-01 03:51:16 | The Canakin Clink Pub Song (From 'Othello') | 2/4/2015 | And let me the canakin clink, clink;And let me the canakin clinkA soldier's a man;A life's but a span;Why, then, let a soldier drink. | William Shakespeare |
118 | 3 | 2018-02-28 20:20:02 | William Shakespeare | 118 | 2018-03-01 03:51:18 | Sonnet Liii | 5/21/2001 | William Shakespeare | |
119 | 3 | 2018-02-28 20:20:02 | William Shakespeare | 119 | 2018-03-01 03:51:22 | Sonnet Lxxix | 12/31/2002 | William Shakespeare | |
120 | 3 | 2018-02-28 20:20:02 | William Shakespeare | 120 | 2018-03-01 03:51:28 | Sonnets Vi | 1/4/2003 | William Shakespeare | |
14631 | 3 | 2018-02-28 20:20:02 | William Shakespeare | 14631 | 2018-03-02 01:37:10 | Sonnet Lxv | 5/21/2001 | William Shakespeare | |
14632 | 3 | 2018-02-28 20:20:02 | William Shakespeare | 14632 | 2018-03-02 01:37:15 | Sonnet Lxxx | 5/21/2001 | William Shakespeare | |
14633 | 3 | 2018-02-28 20:20:02 | William Shakespeare | 14633 | 2018-03-02 01:37:19 | Sonnet Lxxviii | 5/21/2001 | William Shakespeare | |
14634 | 3 | 2018-02-28 20:20:02 | William Shakespeare | 14634 | 2018-03-02 01:37:24 | Sonnet Xcviii | 5/21/2001 | William Shakespeare | |
14635 | 3 | 2018-02-28 20:20:02 | William Shakespeare | 14635 | 2018-03-02 01:37:28 | Sonnets Xx | 1/4/2003 | William Shakespeare | |
14636 | 3 | 2018-02-28 20:20:02 | William Shakespeare | 14636 | 2018-03-02 01:37:33 | From The Rape Of Lucrece | 4/17/2015 | Her lily hand her rosy cheek lies under,Cozening the pillow of a lawful kiss;Who, therefore angry, seems to part in sunder,Swelling on either side to want his bliss;Between whose hills her head entombed is; Where like a virtuous monument she lies, To be admired of lewd unhallowed eyes.Without the bed her other fair hand was,On the green coverlet, whose perfect whiteShowed like an April daisy on the grass,With pearly sweat resembling dew of night.Her eyes, like marigolds, had sheathed their light, And canopied in darkness sweetly lay Till they might open to adorn the day.Her hair like golden threads played with her breathO modest wantons, wanton modesty!Showing life's triumph in the map of death,And death's dim look in life's mortality.Each in her sleep themselves so beautify As if between them twain there were no strife, But that life lived in death, and death in life.Her breasts like ivory globes circled with blue,A pair of maiden worlds unconquerèd,Save of their lord no bearing yoke they knew,And him by oath they truly honourèd.These worlds in Tarquin new ambition bred, Who like a foul usurper went about From this fair throne to heave the owner out.What could he see but mightily he noted?What did he note but strongly he desired?What he beheld, on that he firmly doted,And in his will his willful eye he tired.With more than admiration he admired Her azure veins, her alabaster skin, Her coral lips, her snow-white dimpled chin.As the grim lion fawneth o'er his preySharp hunger by the conquest satisfied,So o'er this sleeping soul doth Tarquin stay,His rage of lust by gazing qualified;Slacked, not suppressed; for, standing by her side, His eye, which late this mutiny restrains, Unto a greater uproar tempts his veins.And they, like straggling slaves for pillage fighting,Obdurate vassals fell exploits effecting.In bloody death and ravishment delighting,Nor children's tears nor mothers' groans respecting,Swell in their pride, the onset still expecting. Anon his beating heart, alarum striking, Gives the hot charge and bids them do their liking.His drumming heart cheers up his burning eye,His eye commends the leading to his hand;His hand, as proud of such a dignity,Smoking with pride, marched on to make his standOn her bare breast, the heart of all her land, Whose ranks of blue veins, as his hand did scale, Left their round turrets destitute and pale.They, mustering to the quiet cabinetWhere their dear governess and lady lies,Do tell her she is dreadfully besetAnd fright her with confusion of their cries.She, much amazed, breaks ope her locked-up eyes, Who, peeping forth this tumult to behold, Are by his flaming torch dimmed and controlled.Imagine her as one in dead of nightFrom forth dull sleep by dreadful fancy waking,That thinks she hath beheld some ghastly sprite,Whose grim aspect sets every joint a-shaking.What terror ‘tis! but she, in worser taking, From sleep disturbèd, heedfully doth view The sight which makes supposèd terror true.Wrapped and confounded in a thousand fears,Like to a new-killed bird she trembling lies.She dares not look; yet, winking, there appearsQuick-shifting antics ugly in her eyes.Such shadows are the weak brain's forgeries, Who, angry that the eyes fly from their lights, In darkness daunts them with more dreadful sights.His hand, that yet remains upon her breast(Rude ram, to batter such an ivory wall!)May feel her heart (poor citizen) distressed,Wounding itself to death, rise up and fall,Beating her bulk, that his hand shakes withal. This moves in him more rage and lesser pity, To make the breach and enter this sweet city. |
William Shakespeare |
14637 | 3 | 2018-02-28 20:20:02 | William Shakespeare | 14637 | 2018-03-02 01:37:38 | Sonnet Vi | 5/21/2001 | William Shakespeare | |
14638 | 3 | 2018-02-28 20:20:02 | William Shakespeare | 14638 | 2018-03-02 01:37:40 | Sonnets Xvi | 1/4/2003 | William Shakespeare | |
14639 | 3 | 2018-02-28 20:20:02 | William Shakespeare | 14639 | 2018-03-02 01:37:44 | Sonnet Lxxxiii | 5/21/2001 | William Shakespeare | |
14640 | 3 | 2018-02-28 20:20:02 | William Shakespeare | 14640 | 2018-03-02 01:37:50 | Sonnet Xvii | 5/21/2001 | William Shakespeare | |
14641 | 3 | 2018-02-28 20:20:02 | William Shakespeare | 14641 | 2018-03-02 01:37:53 | Sonnet Xi | 5/21/2001 | William Shakespeare | |
14642 | 3 | 2018-02-28 20:20:02 | William Shakespeare | 14642 | 2018-03-02 01:38:00 | Where The Bee Sucks (from The Tempest) | 6/10/2015 | WHERE the bee sucks, there suck I: In a cowslip's bell I lie; There I couch when owls do cry. On the bat's back I do fly. After summer merrily: Merrily, merrily, shall I live now Under the blossom that hangs on the bough. | William Shakespeare |
14643 | 3 | 2018-02-28 20:20:02 | William Shakespeare | 14643 | 2018-03-02 01:38:05 | Sonnet Cxxxiv | 5/18/2001 | William Shakespeare | |
14644 | 3 | 2018-02-28 20:20:02 | William Shakespeare | 14644 | 2018-03-02 01:38:10 | Sonnet Xciii | 5/21/2001 | William Shakespeare | |
14645 | 3 | 2018-02-28 20:20:02 | William Shakespeare | 14645 | 2018-03-02 01:38:14 | Sonnet Xvi | 5/21/2001 | William Shakespeare | |
14646 | 3 | 2018-02-28 20:20:02 | William Shakespeare | 14646 | 2018-03-02 01:38:20 | Sonnet Xlvi | 5/21/2001 | William Shakespeare | |
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