Here is a list of Poems ordered by Most Viewed, posted by members. Read poetry, post your own poems or comments. Poems on these pages are copyrighted © by the authors who entered them. Click here to post a poem.
Bamboleo (song-English translation)
That love arrives this way, this way,
It's not its fault,
A horse that dances in vain,
Because its very scorned thats why it wont forgive your crying,
That kind of love arrive this way,
It's not it fault.
Love for sale,
Love from in the past,
Bembele, bembele, bembele,
Bem, bembele, bembele
Chorus
Bamoleo, bambolea,
Because in my life. I prefer to live it that way,
Bamboleo, bambolea,
Because in my life. I prefer to live it that way.
You are unforgiveable,
You are my life, the fate of destiny, in the destiny of abandonment,
Still the same as yesterday,
I am just the same,
I can't find you in abandonment,
It's impossible, I really cant find you,
Thats why one day I can't tell if for nothing
The same as yesterday,
I'm thinking of you.
Chorus ( X2 )
l
It's not its fault,
A horse that dances in vain,
Because its very scorned thats why it wont forgive your crying,
That kind of love arrive this way,
It's not it fault.
Love for sale,
Love from in the past,
Bembele, bembele, bembele,
Bem, bembele, bembele
Chorus
Bamoleo, bambolea,
Because in my life. I prefer to live it that way,
Bamboleo, bambolea,
Because in my life. I prefer to live it that way.
You are unforgiveable,
You are my life, the fate of destiny, in the destiny of abandonment,
Still the same as yesterday,
I am just the same,
I can't find you in abandonment,
It's impossible, I really cant find you,
Thats why one day I can't tell if for nothing
The same as yesterday,
I'm thinking of you.
Chorus ( X2 )
l
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Feb 2012
About this poem:
I am interested in the sport of kings.Theres a horse racing today at Fontwell 5.15 called BAMBOLEO, so I thought i'd share the translation.
Not sure if it will win, but I think the only danger is UTOPIAN perhaps even the rank outsider at 66/1 has a chance of a place called WITCHESINTUNE.
Why not listen to the commentry from the track at www.sportinglife.com and click on horse racing and look for the track called Fontwell and click the 5:15 race and listen to it.
If you have sky at the races then you can watch it on channel 415
The Angel
You kissed me softly with the dew of the night
Your face shone smartly,a captivating sight.
In sweet morn, you dry these crystal tears
And in night, you mute my mournful fears.
So winged,so holy,so awe divine
A gift from God written with heavenly signs.
As the sweet morning blazed fulgent red
With dreams uncertain,away has fled.
A happy blossom of smiling skies
Your white countenance of purity divine.
Robed with fire and passion upon thy breast
You lay me down my troubled mind to rest.
Your love is cast upon my fainting will
Rushing streams so wild has broken still.
Celestial are thou,weilding the will of God
The most praised jewel of earthly form.
THE ANGEL
Your face shone smartly,a captivating sight.
In sweet morn, you dry these crystal tears
And in night, you mute my mournful fears.
So winged,so holy,so awe divine
A gift from God written with heavenly signs.
As the sweet morning blazed fulgent red
With dreams uncertain,away has fled.
A happy blossom of smiling skies
Your white countenance of purity divine.
Robed with fire and passion upon thy breast
You lay me down my troubled mind to rest.
Your love is cast upon my fainting will
Rushing streams so wild has broken still.
Celestial are thou,weilding the will of God
The most praised jewel of earthly form.
THE ANGEL
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Sep 2011
Post Comment
A feel good poem
I like to make up poems on the spot, i never know what im writing from one line to the next, i tend to think this is the best and most expressive way to write. Seriously though, if you fancy a poem on any subject/topic/or silliness, send me an email here and I will post one just for you.. Enjoy :-)
Its funny sometimes,
how the little things matter,
how we listen to gossip,
and mindless chatter
Its funny sometimes,
how we stress for no reason,
we feel down on a sunday,
or we change with each season
Its funny sometimes,
how we can feel so alone,
wanting someone to visit,
wanting someone to phone
Its funny sometimes,
how we just need a hug,
to scootch up on the sofa,
and cuddle and snug
Its funny sometimes,
when things get us down,
always looking at the floor,
always showing a frown,
Its funny sometimes,
if we just lift our heads,
look at the world,
and smile instead
Embrace every meeting,
enjoy every talk,
sharing those special moments,
laughing together on a nice long walk.
Open our eyes,
and take in every sight,
theres no time for sadness,
its time to fight!
Its funny sometimes,
that everything is fine,
and the people who love you,
have been right here the whole time.
Its funny sometimes,
how the little things matter,
how we listen to gossip,
and mindless chatter
Its funny sometimes,
how we stress for no reason,
we feel down on a sunday,
or we change with each season
Its funny sometimes,
how we can feel so alone,
wanting someone to visit,
wanting someone to phone
Its funny sometimes,
how we just need a hug,
to scootch up on the sofa,
and cuddle and snug
Its funny sometimes,
when things get us down,
always looking at the floor,
always showing a frown,
Its funny sometimes,
if we just lift our heads,
look at the world,
and smile instead
Embrace every meeting,
enjoy every talk,
sharing those special moments,
laughing together on a nice long walk.
Open our eyes,
and take in every sight,
theres no time for sadness,
its time to fight!
Its funny sometimes,
that everything is fine,
and the people who love you,
have been right here the whole time.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Feb 2011
About this poem:
-This one is for my beloved mum, she is 72 and is going through a little bit of anxiety at the moment, thankfully she still has the loving support of my dad, they have been married for 54 years.
Bowl of Cherries
If love was hiding in a bowl of cherries
Sweet and enticing, not like un-ripened berries
Could you pick it out, choose the one
Or would you fumble, unsure of some
How do you know where it could be?
If they were all plucked from a single tree
Would it be the one hiding, seeming shy?
Or the cherry that simply took your eye
Does hesitation make you unsure?
That love could hide if it was pure
Why wait, why not pick the fruit
What if its wrong, does not suit
Why choose, why not sample them all
Would you become the vain mans fool
What is the thought that holds you back?
You cannot sight feelings lying in the pack
Indecision will make it pass you on by
If the one that’s right you will not espy
Your heart, not eyes, will leave one in the bowl
For it is the one that shines, a radiant soul
For the answer is not the beauty of the skin
The outside tells you nothing of what lies within
True love can seem to hide in a single cherry
But beware, for the fruits of life are many
Sweet and enticing, not like un-ripened berries
Could you pick it out, choose the one
Or would you fumble, unsure of some
How do you know where it could be?
If they were all plucked from a single tree
Would it be the one hiding, seeming shy?
Or the cherry that simply took your eye
Does hesitation make you unsure?
That love could hide if it was pure
Why wait, why not pick the fruit
What if its wrong, does not suit
Why choose, why not sample them all
Would you become the vain mans fool
What is the thought that holds you back?
You cannot sight feelings lying in the pack
Indecision will make it pass you on by
If the one that’s right you will not espy
Your heart, not eyes, will leave one in the bowl
For it is the one that shines, a radiant soul
For the answer is not the beauty of the skin
The outside tells you nothing of what lies within
True love can seem to hide in a single cherry
But beware, for the fruits of life are many
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jan 2010
About this poem:
true, real love is sometimes hard to find!, for it can disguise itself!
WOTSIT'S NAME????......No....6......(SOLVED!)
It may hold something like a "Good bet", (A "Hot Tip")
Though it's contents is supposed to be,
Three fifths of American rubbish...(American for Rubbish..trASH)
Though, part of it can be underneath high tea.....(Tray)
Well there you go guys an gals...told ya it was easy...XXX
Though it's contents is supposed to be,
Three fifths of American rubbish...(American for Rubbish..trASH)
Though, part of it can be underneath high tea.....(Tray)
Well there you go guys an gals...told ya it was easy...XXX
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jun 2011
About this poem:
A short one this time....should be easy...lol....Only for fun, Answer in a comment, Only one answer at a time please...unless it goes first time of course....lol.....Andrew...xxx
If by life you were deceived
If by life you were deceived,
Don't be dismal, don't be wild!
In the day of grief, be mild,
Merry days will come, believe!
Heart is living in tomorrow,
Present is dejected here,
In a moment, passes sorrow
That which passes will be dear.
Don't be dismal, don't be wild!
In the day of grief, be mild,
Merry days will come, believe!
Heart is living in tomorrow,
Present is dejected here,
In a moment, passes sorrow
That which passes will be dear.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jul 2010
About this poem:
One of my favourite poemLet Me Fly
Though you can not fly with me -
Don't drag me down,
Let me fly!
Though you worry I will fall and die -
Don't drag me down,
Let me fly!
Let me fly, babe, let me fly!
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
Cut your ropes, untie, let me fly!
I dare to touch the sky.
Wings - unfoldered and open.
Fear - emraced and broken.
Who is coming with me? - I invite.
You will see rainbow colour of white.
Don't drag me down,
Let me fly!
Though you worry I will fall and die -
Don't drag me down,
Let me fly!
Let me fly, babe, let me fly!
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
Cut your ropes, untie, let me fly!
I dare to touch the sky.
Wings - unfoldered and open.
Fear - emraced and broken.
Who is coming with me? - I invite.
You will see rainbow colour of white.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Sep 2009
About this poem:
I wanna fly, don't ya stop me!I am in the wrong world, even more, I got stuck on the wrong little island with mentality back 100 years. And you know, I am not tired of growing old! My mission is to make the world a better place, to leave it better than I found it. And I MAKE changes I am proud of. When people say "But what can I do?" I always reply "Stop saying But what can I do and do something!"
I am a paralegal Consultant, I am a Human Rights Defender, I am a Challenger of a State I live in, besides, I am a water rescuer and tonight I am starting my abseiling and firefighting course as well.
I do save people both from death and from abuse, I do fight and change the laws and policies in the Country I live. Yes, I know what you say, I am a superwoman. But I do not want to be less. It is the only life I have.
Dare to fly?
White colour consists from a rainbow set of colours. Far not many people can see it. Far not many people were born to fly either. When people of different levels meet, one starts to lift up another, while another starts to drag down the first one. Both of them are trying to match their levels to get along together. Until they rebel, one or both.
my beautiful queen
my true love is a beautiful queen
the most gorgeous flower i have seen
she is so pure just like an angel
she is to me a sacred treasure
she sparkles brighter than a diamond
she is always there to care for my pain
she brings me joy and makes me laugh
she makes me feel all at peace
her beauty is prettier than a pearl
her love to me is rare and priceless
her friendship is so very special
her heart is warmer than the sun
her soul is loving with true sincerety
her aura gives such a magical prescence
her smile is the most amazing sight
our happiness is like floating in a cloud
our life together is such paradise
our bond is such a precoius gift
our love knows no boundaries and no limits
our souls are moulded for an eternity
for i know you came from up above
to forever be my one true love
the most gorgeous flower i have seen
she is so pure just like an angel
she is to me a sacred treasure
she sparkles brighter than a diamond
she is always there to care for my pain
she brings me joy and makes me laugh
she makes me feel all at peace
her beauty is prettier than a pearl
her love to me is rare and priceless
her friendship is so very special
her heart is warmer than the sun
her soul is loving with true sincerety
her aura gives such a magical prescence
her smile is the most amazing sight
our happiness is like floating in a cloud
our life together is such paradise
our bond is such a precoius gift
our love knows no boundaries and no limits
our souls are moulded for an eternity
for i know you came from up above
to forever be my one true love
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jun 2009
Post Comment
End of the century, 1984
Death
Synthetic winds have blown away
Material dust, but this one room
Rebukes the constant violet ray
And dustless sheds a dusty gloom.
Wrecked on the outmoded past
Lie North and Hillard, Virgil, Horace,
Shakespeare's bones are quiet at last,
Dead as Yeats or William Morris.
Have not the inmates earned their rest?
A hundred circles traversed they
Complaining of the classic quest
And, each inevitable day,
Illogically trying to place
A ball within an empty space.
Birth
Every loss is now a gain
For every chance must follow reason.
A crystal palace meets the rain
That falls at its appointed season.
No book disturbs the lucid line
For sun-bronzed scholars tune their thought
To Telepathic Station 9
From which they know just what they ought:
The useful sciences; the arts
Of telesalesmanship and Spanish
As registered in Western parts;
Mental cremation that shall banish
Relics, philosophies and colds --
Manana-minded ten-year-olds.
The Phoenix
Worlds have died that they may live,
May plume again their fairest feathers
And in their clearest songs may give
Welcome to all spontaneous weathers.
Bacon's colleague is called Einstein,
Huxley shares Platonic food,
Violet rays are only sunshine
Christened in the modern mood,
In this house if in no other
Past and future may agree,
Each herself, but each the other
In a curious harmony,
Finding both a proper place
In the silken gown's embrace.
Synthetic winds have blown away
Material dust, but this one room
Rebukes the constant violet ray
And dustless sheds a dusty gloom.
Wrecked on the outmoded past
Lie North and Hillard, Virgil, Horace,
Shakespeare's bones are quiet at last,
Dead as Yeats or William Morris.
Have not the inmates earned their rest?
A hundred circles traversed they
Complaining of the classic quest
And, each inevitable day,
Illogically trying to place
A ball within an empty space.
Birth
Every loss is now a gain
For every chance must follow reason.
A crystal palace meets the rain
That falls at its appointed season.
No book disturbs the lucid line
For sun-bronzed scholars tune their thought
To Telepathic Station 9
From which they know just what they ought:
The useful sciences; the arts
Of telesalesmanship and Spanish
As registered in Western parts;
Mental cremation that shall banish
Relics, philosophies and colds --
Manana-minded ten-year-olds.
The Phoenix
Worlds have died that they may live,
May plume again their fairest feathers
And in their clearest songs may give
Welcome to all spontaneous weathers.
Bacon's colleague is called Einstein,
Huxley shares Platonic food,
Violet rays are only sunshine
Christened in the modern mood,
In this house if in no other
Past and future may agree,
Each herself, but each the other
In a curious harmony,
Finding both a proper place
In the silken gown's embrace.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Feb 2011
About this poem:
Eileen Maud O'Shaughnessy was the wife of Eric Arthur Blair- better known by his pen-name 'George Orwell'.The poem was written in 1934, intended as a look 50 years into the future...
~a moment too . . . a lifetime~
~in a moment. . .
a slight glance happens. . . .
will they
have they
do they-connect. . . .
a quick ripple of thought soften's the eye's. . . .
a moment of chance.......
for two unaware
of thought those eyes share . . . .
what it'd be like fingers entwined
under the moon, beach, blanket an time. . . .
a walk to the market
a bike built for two . . . .
what's the other thinking
could it be you. . . .
that moment could it ever...............
become a lifetime~
~ Bentlee ~
a slight glance happens. . . .
will they
have they
do they-connect. . . .
a quick ripple of thought soften's the eye's. . . .
a moment of chance.......
for two unaware
of thought those eyes share . . . .
what it'd be like fingers entwined
under the moon, beach, blanket an time. . . .
a walk to the market
a bike built for two . . . .
what's the other thinking
could it be you. . . .
that moment could it ever...............
become a lifetime~
~ Bentlee ~
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jul 2009
About this poem:
:) it's about one of those times in life anywhere, you connect eye to eye, if only for a short time, there's something there!Poems entered on these pages are copyrighted by the authors who entered them. They cannot be reproduced without the author's written consent. © Copyright 2001-2024. All rights reserved.
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