Dawn
(From the train between Bologna and Milan, second class.)
Opposite me two Germans snore and sweat.
Through sullen swirling gloom we jolt and roar.
We have been here for ever: even yet
A dim watch tells two hours, two aeons, more.
The windows are tight-shut and slimy-wet
With a night's fœtor. There are two hours more;
Two hours to dawn and Milan; two hours yet.
Opposite me two Germans sweat and snore. . . .
One of them wakes, and spits, and sleeps again.
The darkness shivers. A wan light through the rain
Strikes on our faces, drawn and white. Somewhere
A new day sprawls; and, inside, the foul air
Is chill, and damp, and fouler than before. . . .
Opposite me two Germans sweat and snore.
poem by Rupert Brooke
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Related quotes
Retrospect: The Jests Of The Clock
He had met hours of the clock he never guessed before-
Dumb, dragging, mirthless hours confused with dreams and fear,
Bone-chilling, hungry hours when the Gods sleep and snore,
Bequeathing earth and heaven to ghosts, and will not hear,
And will not hear man groan chained to the sodden ground,
Rotting alive; in feather beds they slumbered sound.
When noisome smells of day were sicklied by cold night,
When sentries froze and muttered; when beyond the wire
Blank shadows crawled and tumbled, shaking, tricking the sight,
When impotent hatred of Life stifled desire,
Then soared the sudden rocket, broke in blanching showers,
O lagging watch! O dawn! O hope-forsaken hours!
How often with numbed heart, stale lips, venting his rage
We swore he'd be a dolt, a traitor, a damned fool,
If, when the guns stopped, ever again from youth to age
He broke the early rising, early sleeping rule.
No, though more bestial enemies roused a fouler war
Never again would he hear this, no never more!
'Rise with the cheerful sun, go to bed with the same,
Work in your field or kailyard all the shining day,
But,' he said, 'never more in quest of wealth, honour, fame,
Search the small hours of night before the East goes grey.
A healthy mind, an honest heart, a wise man leaves
Those ugly impious times to ghosts, devils, soldiers, thieves.'
Poor fool, knowing too well deep in his heart
That he'll be ready again: if urgent orders come,
To quit his rye and cabbages, kiss his wife and part
At the first sullen rapping of the awakened drum,
Ready once more to sweat with fear and brace for the shock,
To greet beneath a falling flare the jests of the clock.
poem by Robert Graves
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Coloured Hours
GRAY hours have cities,
Green hours have rhymes
Of hearts grown loving
In old summertimes,
But the white hours have only
A cloud in the sky
And a star, bright and lonely,
To remember them by.
Gold hours have laughter,
Red hours have song
Drawn from lost fountains
Of beauty and wrong.
But the white hours,–O, tender
As rose-flakes they lie,
With youth's fallen splendour
To remember them by.
poem by Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Is All About You
1 hour unity,
2 hours peace,
3 hours playing,
4 hours sleeping,
5 hours smiling,
6 hours living,
7 hours trusting in your muse!
For this river is mine and yours foeevers;
And, i want to be close to you always.
1 hour smiling,
2 hours learning,
3 hours thinking,
4 hours with your muse,
5 hours teaching,
6 hours working,
But, the 7th hour comes for me to sleep with you;
Because, this love is all about you! !
And, i want to be with you always.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Flight Delays (Life Poem)
Sympathyless disbelief when I complain again,
Delays are the balance for the glamour of flying.
Nine hours in Sao Paulo while the ATC strike,
Eight hours in Vienna while new wheel flies in,
Seven sins would be justified by this purgatory,
Six times six hours from CBB to DUB last week,
Five hours sweating in Port au Prince plastic chair,
Four hours for rain in Miami seems not so bad,
Three hours in Shannon for bomb threat search,
Two hours sitting in Seattle with mad dash in Kennedy.
One would be happier walking, swimming or driving.
poem by Ian Beckett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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24 Hours
24 hours makes one day,
But this day is made up of the light and darkness!
The 12 hours of light is called 'day' and,
The 12 hours of darkness is called 'night';
So learn from this muse to be able to walk in th elight always! !
And many are the evil things being done in darkness.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Opposite Begins
When one has had it,
With a havoc that misfits...
That one agitated,
Finds an exit and splits.
People known to create conflict,
Seek an attention they don't get...
Until,
The opposite begins.
Opposition steps in.
They pretend a trust to believe,
To have others perceive but...
The opposite begins,
For them.
Wake up and take notice,
That the opposite begins for them.
Those who charade innocence.
The opposite begins for them.
Those masking evil intent.
The opposite begins for them.
When one has had it,
With a havoc that misfits...
Well,
The opposite begins.
The opposite begins.
And...
That one agitated,
Finds an exit and splits.
But then,
The opposite begins.
The opposite begins.
That one who's had it,
Splits and runs into love...
To know the opposite begins,
When someone genuine comes in...
To view.
When one has had it,
With a havoc that misfits...
Well,
The opposite begins.
The opposite begins.
And...
That one who's had it,
Splits and runs into love...
To know the opposite begins,
When someone genuine comes in...
To view.
They want it quick.
And...
When one has had it,
With a havoc that misfits...
To then see someone who genuinely fits,
Well...
The opposite begins pursued.
Oh yes it does.
An opposite begins pursued.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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He Does Not Sleep That Well At Night
He does not sleep that well at night though his troubles are small
The possums walking on his roof the rats squeak in the wall,
The boobook owl is crying mopoke on the trees across the way
He used to sleep without once waking till after break of day.
He does not sleep that well at night his wife beside him snore
He lay beside her wide awake for three hours sometimes more
The moon shines through the window pane he hear the plover cry
And the hunting fox is barking in the old paddock nearby.
He does not sleep that well at night he lay in bed awake
And the voices of the nocturnal creatures he cannot mistake
The frogs are singing in the ponds to tell that rain is near
And occasionally the barking of the neighbourhood dogs he hear.
He goes to bed at ten o clock but he doesn't get to sleep till around two
Although he must get up to go to work at seven still his worries seem so few
Compared to some who do sleep well with him it used not to be this way
He often slept for ten hours straight till after break of day.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Anatomy Of A Song
The thing was finally strapped down tight and quite asleep.
drip, drip, drip, from the bag, thru the tubing, under the skin-
dewy fluids and a rapid, sliding bubble, round first, then oblong,
How thru its medium it squeezed, salmon-like!
graphs, monitors, stainless, blips, bleeps;
and, like camels padding a silk road, the up-thrown glyphs, evidencing life, tireless;
the easy purl of snoring:
snore, snore-this was anesthesia!
the gentle rise and fall of the rib cage.
'Let us begin', said the technician.
'Keep your eyes on the screen'.
In came the specialist, gloved green, who even masked, bore
an uncanny resemblence to Eddie Poe.
From a table she chose a scalpel and a pair of sterile pinking shears:
crunch, crunch.
Soon there were feathers-over the walls, on the floor,
sticky feathers everywhere; then flew out,
arpeggios, glissandi by the score,
groans and sighs galore but no proper blood.
diads, triads, quite a few fourths, some fifths,
sevenths, octaves, glorious augmentations.
and appogiaturas.
'My God'! she swore, in a sweat of wonder,
'the thing's all feathers! Suction, please'.
phytaphytaphytaphytaphytaphytaphytaph yta
It was cold in the room
Everyone had goose-flesh.
Everyone had back-aches.
Photos were snapped
For home viewing, later.
After three hours or more
The boys were sick of the deever
So they closed with catgut.
'Feathers' was the diagnosis.
'Too many and not enough'.
'One removed from craw'.
poem by Morgan Michaels
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hours Continuing Long
HOURS continuing long, sore and heavy-hearted,
Hours of the dusk, when I withdraw to a lonesome and unfrequented
spot, seating myself, leaning my face in my hands;
Hours sleepless, deep in the night, when I go forth, speeding swiftly
the country roads, or through the city streets, or pacing miles
and miles, stifling plaintive cries;
Hours discouraged, distracted--for the one I cannot content myself
without, soon I saw him content himself without me;
Hours when I am forgotten, (O weeks and months are passing, but I
believe I am never to forget!)
Sullen and suffering hours! (I am ashamed--but it is useless--I am
what I am;)
Hours of my torment--I wonder if other men ever have the like, out of
the like feelings?
Is there even one other like me--distracted--his friend, his lover,
lost to him?
Is he too as I am now? Does he still rise in the morning, dejected,
thinking who is lost to him? and at night, awaking, think who
is lost?
Does he too harbor his friendship silent and endless? harbor his
anguish and passion? 10
Does some stray reminder, or the casual mention of a name, bring the
fit back upon him, taciturn and deprest?
Does he see himself reflected in me? In these hours, does he see the
face of his hours reflected?
poem by Walt Whitman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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On Sleeping Too Late
On the days that still remain with me
I fear I sleep too late.
I must shorten those sleeping hours
because I have a date
with finality and endless sleep.
And all the things I love to do
will suddenly be no more.
I try so hard to remedy this
but alas, here comes the snore.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Before Execution.
The sun is set, and all the stars are come,
Stars I shall no more see; the air is still,
And my life waits the ruin so near now.
A little space, and I shall have done here.
Ah, God! twelve hours, twelve little hours, and, lo!
The air and these lips part, day becomes night,
Earth nothing, time a skeleton, and I
An angry ghost, or a tired phantom laid
With many others in oblivion.
Twelve hours, twelve little hours, and I shall have
A wondrous change — feel one fierce pang, and then
Fade off I know not where, or like a star
Shot fearfully from the zenith singe my way
Through chaos haply for some aeons till
I reach another air, a lower sky,
And maybe with a baleful influence
Burn in Pluto's reign.
poem by Robert Crawford
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lightning Rod
So you say you like the way I look
So you say you like the way I look
When I fall and no one's there to catch me
So you say you like the way I move
So you say you like the way I move
Into every storm I see above me
'Cause everybody's doing what they like
And what they like is not enough for me
I do not feel the same
Here we go 'cause
Tell me why we always sweat it
Everybody wants more but they never get it
Tell me why we always sweat it
Everybody wants more
(everybody wants everybody)
Tell me why we always sweat it
Everybody wants more but they never get it
Tell me why we always sweat it
Everybody wants more
(and everybody wants more)
What you want is never what you get
Here comes the wall, better lower your head
What you want is never what you get
You're going to fast
So you say you like the way I move
So you say you like the way I move
Into every storm I see above me
Breaker breaker one two
Break out to break through
You can swim slash drift where the tides take you
It's about your attitude
Extension of your latitude
Rejection of gratitude
What up, whatcha thinking dude?
Who said every day's gonna be fun?
Keep an eye on the web
Other people have spun
Who said every day's gonna be fun?
Best recognize or betcha you'll come undone
'Cause everybody's doing what they like
And what they like is not enough for me
I do not feel the same
Here we go 'cause
Tell me why we always sweat it
Everybody wants more but they never get it
Tell me why we always sweat it
Everybody wants more
(everybody wants everybody)
Tell me why we always sweat it
Everybody wants more but they never get it
Tell me why we always sweat it
Everybody wants more
(and everybody wants more)
What you want is never what you get
Here comes the wall, better lower your head
What you want is never what you get
You're going to fast
Grit your teeth, this is gonna be a bumpy ride
Loud and clear
Hi-fi, lo-fi
Hand fist, shape shifts to electrify
Sure enough showing up trying to climb sky high
Tell me why we always sweat it
Everybody wants more but they never get it
Tell me why we always sweat it
Everybody wants more
(everybody wants everybody)
Tell me why we always sweat it
Everybody wants more but they never get it
Tell me why we always sweat it
Everybody wants more
(and everybody wants more)
Tell me why we always sweat it
Everybody wants more but they never get it
Tell me why we always sweat it
Everybody wants more
(everybody wants everybody)
Tell me why we always sweat it
Everybody wants more but they never get it
Tell me why we always sweat it
Everybody wants more
(everybody wants more)
What you want is never what you get
Everybody wants more
What you want is never what you get
And everybody wants more
song performed by by Zebrahead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sweat, sweat, sweat! Work and sweat, cry and sweat, pray and sweat!
quote by Zora Neale Hurston
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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At Night
Sunk deep in the night
I sink in the night
Standing alone underneath the sky
I feel the chill of ice
On my face
I watch the hours go by
The hours go by
You sleep
Sleep in a safe bed
Curled and protected
Protected from sight
Under a safe roof
Deep in your house
Unaware of the changes at night
At night
I hear the darkness breathe
I sense the quiet despair
Listen to the silence
At night
Someone has to be there
Someone has to be there
Someone must be there
song performed by by Cure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You're Gone
(HogarthKellyMosleyRotheryTrewavas)
You're gone. As suddenly as you came to me
Like nightfall followed dawn without a day between
You're gone and suddenly I can't see
I'm in the shadow of you
I'm in the shadow of you
I can see you in my minds rose-tinted eye..
Somewhere you're drifting by
Your heels rolling sparks on the lucky street
While here am I, left behind
Stunned and blind
But I can see you from here
I can see you so clear
You are the light
You are the light
You have the day
I have the night
But we have the early hours together
You're gone, and heaven cries.
A thunderstorm breaks from the northern sky
Chasing you back to the daily grind
You're gone. And where am I?
A haunted life
The ghost of your laughter
The half-empty glass
The half-empty glass
And I wait
'til midnight tolls
Two souls almost touching in the dark
I'll be allright
You are the light
You are the light
You have the day
I have the night
But we have the early hours
We have the early hours
We have the early hours together
song performed by by Marillion
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dont Sweat It
Id like to see you before I go
Theres a few things Id like to do
And when youre gone, youll be gone for long
And soon Ill be gone too
But dont sweat it, dont sweat it, dont sweat it, ooh
Dont sweat it, dont sweat it, dont sweat it
Are you happy with the color of your tea
Could you use some sugar now?
Youre satisfied with your boy or your girl
Your little butter cup
But dont sweat it, dont sweat it, dont sweat it
Dont sweat it, dont sweat it, dont sweat it.
Id like to see you before I go
Theres a few things Id like to do
And when youre gone, youll be gone for long
And soon Ill be gone too
But dont sweat it, dont sweat it, dont sweat it
Dont sweat it, dont sweat it, dont sweat it
song performed by by Ween
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Few Hours After This
The look before i go
Is the look for you
You only have to look and it will all come true
And we can fall outside
Into the fizzy night
Or pull me down in here
You know it's all the same
I only want to see if you are happy again
Or we can roll around
And find out upside down
A few hours after this and we're apart again
Like two white chicks
Like opposite poles
In a secret game
(like nothing like these i suppose...)
I really should have known by the cut of your smile
That the answer would be simple
It still took you awhile to get it out of me
I thought you'd do it easily
Just put your hands around my heart
And squeeze me until i'm dry
I never thought you'd ever start to ever ask me why
I never saw you again
song performed by by Cure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The two hours onstage is great. But I can only play a show and then take a night off. I have to sing for two hours, and then I've gotta rest it for a night. So it's the other 46 hours that are just boring as heck.
Four hours of makeup, and then an hour to take it off. It's tiring. I go in, I get picked up at two-thirty in the morning, I get there at three. I wait four hours, go through it, ready to work at seven, work all day long for twelve hours, and get it taken off for an hours, go home and go to sleep, and do the same thing again.
quote by Peter Sarsgaard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One of the last episodes was all about a flood. We were working in the rain till all hours, and it was muddy and it was cold and it was damp, and it was hours under the hoses. That was not pleasant. That was not pleasant.
quote by Derek Jacobi
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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