A Protest
LIGHT words they were, and lightly, falsely said;
She heard them, and she started,—and she rose,
As in the act to speak; the sudden thought
And unconsider’d impulse led her on.
In act to speak she rose, but with the sense
Of all the eyes of that mix’d company
Now suddenly turn’d upon her, some with age
Harden’d and dull’d, some cold and critical;
Some in whom vapors of their own conceit,
As moist malarious mists the heavenly stars,
Still blotted out their good, the best at best
By frivolous laugh and prate conventional
All too untun’d for all she thought to say,—
With such a thought the mantling blood to her cheek
Flush’d up, and o’er-flush’d itself, blank night her soul
Made dark, and in her all her purpose swoon’d.
She stood as if for sinking. Yet anon,
With recollections clear, august, sublime,
Of God’s great truth, and right immutable,
Which, as obedient vassals, to her mind
Came summon’d of her will, in self-negation
Quelling her troublous earthly consciousness,
She queen’d it o’er her weakness. At the spell
Back roll’d the ruddy tide, and leaves her cheek
Paler than erst, and yet not ebbs so far
But that one pulse of one indignant thought
Might hurry it hither in flood. So as she stood
She spoke. God in her spoke, and made her heard.
poem by Arthur Hugh Clough
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Related quotes
The Thought
Into the skies, one summer's day,
I sent a little Thought away;
Up to where, in the blue round,
The sun sat shining without sound.
Then my Thought came back to me.—
Little Thought, what did you see
In the regions whence you come?
And when I spoke, my Thought was dumb.
But she breathed of what was there,
In the pure bright upper air;
And, because my Thought so shone,
I knew she had been shone upon.
Next, by night a Thought I sent
Up into the firmament;
When the eager stars were out,
And the still moon shone about.
And my Thought went past the moon
In between the stars, but soon
Held her breath and durst not stir,
For the fear that covered her;
Then she thought, in this demur:
'Dare I look beneath the shade,
Into where the worlds are made;
Where the suns and stars are wrought?
Shall I meet another Thought?
'Will that other Thought have wings?
Shall I meet strange, heavenly things?
Thought of Thoughts, and Light of Lights,
Breath of Breaths, and Night of Nights?'
Then my Thought began to hark
In the illuminated dark,
Till the silence, over, under,
Made her heart beat more than thunder.
And my Thought, came trembling back,
But with something on her track,
And with something at her side;
Nor till she has lived and died,
Lived and died, and lived again,
Will that awful thing seem plain.
poem by William Brighty Rands
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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60 Miles Per Hour
How does it feel to treat me like you do?
When you've laid your hands upon me and told me who you are.
I thought I was mistaken, I thought I heard your words.
Tell me how do I feel. Tell me now, how do I feel.
Those who came before me lived through their vocations
from the past until completion, they'll turn away no more.
And still I find it so hard to say what I need to say.
But I'm quite sure that you'll tell me just how I should feel today.
I see a ship in the harbor. I can and shall obey.
But if it wasn't for your misfortune, I'd be a heavenly person today.
And I thought I was mistaken, and I thought I heard you speak
Tell me, how do I feel. Tell me now, how should I feel.
Now I stand here waiting...
I thought I told you to leave me when I walked down to the beach.
Tell me how does it feel, when your heart grows cold, grows cold, cold.
song performed by by New Order
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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She Spoke 2 Me
Spoke 2 me
I can't believe it, but she spoke 2 me
Close 2 me
I never thought i'd get her close 2 me
Now the moon and the sun belong 2 me
All my wildest hopes, my crazy dreams
But they seem more like reality
Fantasy
This girl fulfills my every fantasy
She must be
Specially designed by heaven just 4 me (just 4 me)
My friends look at her, they see mystery
But i look at her and i see a masterpiece
Can it be, i mean really did she?
Spoke 2 me (spoke 2 me)
I can't believe it, but she spoke 2 me (speak 2 me, baby)
(speak 2 me, baby)
Spoke 2 me
I can't believe it, but she spoke 2 me
And if she hurts me
I'll take it all with open arms u see (u think i won't?)
Cuz like a track under a subway train
She could roll all over me and i'd still be the same
Cuz 2day is the day she spoke 2 me
I can't believe it, but she spoke 2 me
Close 2 me
I never thought i'd get her close 2 me
If i'm stuck in some groovy wet dream
Don't pinch me
I don't wanna wake up
I'm diggin' the scene (i'm diggin', diggin')
Yeah, baby
song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Blue Monday
How does it feel
To treat me like you do
When youve laid your hands upon me
And told me who you are
I thought I was mistaken
I thought I heard your words
Tell me how do I feel
Tell me now how do I feel
Those who came before me
Lived through their vocations
From the past until completion
They will turn away no more
And I still find it so hard
To say what I need to say
But Im quite sure that youll tell me
Just how I should feel today
I see a ship in the harbor
I can and shall obey
But if it wasnt for your misfortunes
Id be a heavenly person today
And I thought I was mistaken
And I thought I heard you speak
Tell me how do I feel
Tell me now how should I feel
Now I stand here waiting
I thought I told you to leave me
While I walked down to the beach
Tell me how does it feel
When your heart grows cold
(grows cold, grows cold, grows cold)
song performed by by New Order
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Blue Monday
How does it feel to treat me like you do?
When youve laid your hands upon me
And told me who you are
I thought I was mistaken
I thought I heard your words
Tell me, how do I feel
Tell me now, how do I feel
Those who came before me
Lived through their vocations
From the past until completion
Theyll turn away no more
And I still find it so hard
To say what I need to say
But Im quite sure that youll tell me
Just how I should feel today
I see a ship in the harbor
I can and shall obey
But if it wasnt for your misfortune
Id be a heavenly person today
And I thought I was mistaken
And I thought I heard you speak
Tell me how do I feel
Tell me now, how should I feel
Now I stand here waiting...
I thought I told you to leave me
While I walked down to the beach
Tell me how does it feel
When your heart grows cold
song performed by by Orgy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Death at the Window
This morning, while we sat in talk
Of spring and apple-bloom,
Lo! Death stood in the garden walk,
And peered into the room.
Your back was turned, you did not see
The shadow that he made.
He bent his head and looked at me;
It made my soul afraid.
The words I had begun to speak
Fell broken in the air.
You saw the pallor of my cheek,
And turned--but none was there.
He came as sudden as a thought,
And so departed too.
What made him leave his task unwrought?
It was the sight of you.
Though Death but seldom turns aside
From those he means to take,
He would not yet our hearts divide,
For love and pity's sake.
poem by Robert Fuller Murray
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Chasing A Memory
I thought i saw you
In the carriage of a train
I ran the platform
It wasn't you.
Yet I carried on in vain
Chasing a memory.
I thought I heard you
Say, 'Kevin i love you'
As I stood
A dreamer in a supermarket queue
I turned around
To misty visions of you.
And my heart still skipped a beat
Chasing a memory
With crippled feet.
I thought I felt
Your softest kiss upon my cheek
I went to hug you
And heard a lost angel speak.
Then I caught your scent
Duelling with blue moonbeams
For joy that came and went.
Chasing a memory
Of ascending dreams
Already tragically spent.
poem by Kevin East
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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La Vie En Rose
LA VIE EN ROSE
I thought that love was just a word
sung about in songs I heard
feelings could reveal that I was wrong
and it was real
Hold me close and hold me fast
the magic spell you cast
this is la vie en rose
when you kiss me heaven sighs
and tho I close my eyes
I see la vie en rose
When you press me to your heart
I'm in a world apart
a world where roses bloom
and when you speak, angels sing from above
everyday words seem to turn into love songs
give your heart and soul to me
and life will always be
la vie en rose
song performed by by Donna Summer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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i Thought I Heard A Man Cry Last Night
'I THOUGHT I HEARD A MAN CRY LAST NIGHT'
I thought I heard him weep
I thought I heard a man cry last night
He woke me from my sleep
I thought I heard a man cry last night
I heard his gentle sob,
I thought I heard a man cry last night
I wondered why he was so sad,
I thought I heard a man cry last night
Or was I going mad,
I thought I heard a man cry last night
I heard his cries subside
I thought I heard a man cry last night
Before I returned gently to my sleep,
I thought I heard a man cry last night
My Pillow doesnt tell me any lies, !
David Bennett.
poem by David Bennett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet, To The Same (Genevra)
Thy cheek is pale with thought, but not from woe,
And yet so lovely, that if Mirth could flush
Its rose of whiteness with the brightest blush,
My heart would wish away that ruder glow:
And dazzle not thy deep-blue eyes--but, oh!
While gazing on them sterner eyes will gush,
And into mine my mother's weakness rush,
Soft as the last drops round heaven's airy bow.
For, through thy long dark lashes low depending,
The soul of melancholy Gentleness
Gleams like a seraph from the sky descending,
Above all pain, yet pitying all distress;
At once such majesty with sweetness blending,
I worship more, but cannot love thee less.
Sonnet - to Genevra
Thy cheek is pale with thought, but not from woe,
And yet so lovely, that if Mirth could flush
Its rose of whiteness with the brightest blush,
My heart would wish away that ruder glow:
And dazzle not thy deep-blue eyes---but, oh!
While gazing on them sterner eyes will gush,
And into mine my mother's weakness rush,
Soft as the last drops round Heaven's airy bow.
For, though thy long dark lashes low depending,
The soul of melancholy Gentleness
Gleams like a Seraph from the sky descending,
Above all pain, yet pitying all distress;
At once such majesty with sweetness blending,
I worship more, but cannot love thee less.
She Often Spoke
she often spoke of suicide, wordlessly.
did I see scarred wrists or imagine them?
of whose suicide did she speak?
her eyes, I saw them, told a kind of truth
apart from what I heard-
for that reason alone, I could forgive her.
are thoughts made of chemicals in the brain,
the synapse of neurons, electric sparks?
flash, they appear, another moment gone.
a memory took place and this I heard.
she often spoke, or did she speak, of suicide.
who spoke? who heard?
did I know or did I imagine knowing?
for that reason alone, I could forgive her.
poem by Jesse Weiner
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Two Shots
This song was first released on the windsong album. it is the only album it has been released on.
I took two shots, got no ducks, and cold, cold hands
Last night while I was out drinking
Trying to have a good time
The lady with whom I was speaking
Thought I was feeding her some old line
When I spoke of a cold winters morning
A duck blind and a river of gray
The sound of the snow softly falling
When I thought I heard somebody say
I took two shots, got no ducks, and cold, cold hands
I could tell by the gaze of my comrades
That I was the one who had spoke
Their eyes held a message of patience
The thrill of the hunt and of hope
But when I spoke again how they listened
For the wisdom of what I might say
If the good lord had meant us to shoot one
Hed surely send more ducks our way
I took two shots, got no ducks, and cold, cold hands
Well the lady with whom I was speaking
She laughed lightly and she wandered away
My heart, like the snow in my story
Fell silent, Id hoped she would stay
Its so nice to talk to somebody
To find someone whos willing to share
I know that this life is worth living
But sometimes it just isnt fair
I took two shots, got no ducks, and cold, cold hands
I took two shots, got no ducks, and cold, cold hands
Words and music by john denver
song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Love Symphony
Along the garden ways just now
I heard the flowers speak;
The white rose told me of your brow,
The red rose of your cheek;
The lily of your bended head,
The bindweed of your hair:
Each looked its loveliest and said
You were more fair.
I went into the wood anon,
And heard the wild birds sing
How sweet you were; they warbled on,
Piped, trilled the self-same thing.
Thrush, blackbird, linnet, without pause,
The burden did repeat,
And still began again because
You were more sweet.
And then I went down to the sea,
And heard it murmuring too,
Part of an ancient mystery,
All made of me and you.
How many a thousand years ago
I loved, and you were sweet--
Longer I could not stay, and so
I fled back to your feet.
poem by Arthur William Edgar O'Shaughnessy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Mazarine Blue
Her soul’s addiction to ultimate fascination
Has turned into miraculous infatuation.
In a cart of silver light mantled with golden beams
The scent of heavenly perfection conquered her dreams.
She thought of herself as a mazarine blue
Playfully flying from rose to rose.
She pondered about the purpose of her creation
But got no answers and received no revelation.
The cart was her ride to heavens far above the sky
Where she lived unconscientiously as a butterfly.
She thought of herself as a mazarine blue
Playfully flying from rose to rose.
She asked about her torture and cruel detention
And why nobody's given her any attention.
“Listen to my outcries, ye most evading of all! ”
She irefully screamed at the world before she did fall.
She thought of herself as a mazarine blue
Playfully flying from rose to rose.
She’s scorned and beaten, but she feels no indignation,
While her folks give a Miss Blabla the nomination.
Her suffering has grown into a scary oak tree
Which the world has bitterly watered since she was three.
She thought of herself as a mazarine blue
Playfully flying from rose to rose.
Her dream has gone with the wind into no direction
For no one has heard her screams or felt her rejection.
She’s now crushed by her society and victimized;
She’s humiliated and for breathing criticized.
She thought of herself as a mazarine blue
Playfully flying from rose to rose.
Changing her destiny for better is her mission.
She wants the cart to send her away to her passion
Of th’ utopian life that she has always dreamed about.
But alas! Years will pass before her dream comes about.
She thought of herself as a mazarine blue
Playfully flying from rose to rose.
24 July 2009
poem by Montazar AnNayef
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It's just a pen.
In battle zone I met a man, all rags and face of pain
I stopped awhile and spoke his tongue, he never gave his name,
'What ails you sir i spoke with zest how does life treat you so?
Your face unshaven clothes all torn and nowhere left to go, '
He spoke in softest tone on life, surprised at what I'd said,
'I have but words to tell my tale a writer born and bred,
I dared to speak of right and wrong and stood for all that's right,
I spoke of men and guns and wars and warned all those who'd fight'.
'Then lines of soldiers past my way and threw me to the floor
They tore my clothes and spat at me and cursed my writing more,
I was chained and maniculed, imprisoned for such views,
By men who yearn to kill and maim, we few who spread such news'.
'So there i sat in prison cell, words came to my salvation,
My mind still active full of thoughts on how to save this nation,
Then time passed onwards, shooting stopped outside the silence came,
A key then heard in cell door lock saw freedom once again'.
The writer glanced from where he lay one eye cocked to the sun
The warmth engulfed his tired limbs, from beatings he was numb,
'The truth i chant in verse and rhyme for all to choke and eat,
Such words not welcome hereabouts thrown down at general's feet '.
'I stood alone and faced the crowds with words my only gun
Above the cries of blood and hate their hearts i thought i'd won
But little did i guess you see how ignorance can spread,
And that my words were such a threat that they should want me dead'.
I helped the writer to his feet his frame so weak and frail
A consequence of standing firm whilst locked away in jail
'One thing' said i 'before you leave, pray tell what drives you then? '
Without a second thought he smiled and whispered '.. it's my pen'
poem by Dave James
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Messenger
She rose up in the early dawn,
And white and silently she moved
About the house. Four men had gone
To battle for the land they loved,
And she, the mother and the wife,
Waited for tidings from the strife.
How still the house seemed! and her tread
Was like the footsteps of the dead.
The long day passed; the dark night came.
She had not seen a human face.
Some voice spoke suddenly her name.
How loud it echoed in that place,
Where, day on day, no sound was heard
But her own footsteps. 'Bring you word,'
She cried to whom she could not see,
'Word from the battle-plain to me?'
A soldier entered at the door,
And stood within the dim firelight;
'I bring you tidings of the four,'
He said, 'who left you for the fight.'
'God bless you, friend,' she cried, 'speak on!
For I can bear it. One is gone?'
'Ay, one is gone!' he said. 'Which one?'
'Dear lady, he, your eldest son.'
A deathly pallor shot across
Her withered face; she did not weep.
She said: 'It is a grievous loss,
But God gives His belovèd sleep.
What of the living-of the three?
And when can they come back to me?'
The soldier turned away his head:
'Lady, your husband, too, is dead.'
She put her hand upon her brow;
A wild, sharp pain was in her eyes.
'My husband! Oh, God, help me now!'
The soldier heard her shuddering sighs.
The task was harder than he thought.
'Your youngest son, dear madam, fought
Close at his father's side; both fell
Dead, by the bursting of a shell.'
She moved her lips and seemed to moan.
Her face had paled to ashen gray:
'Then one is left me-one alone,'
She said, 'of four who marched away.
Oh, overruling, All-wise God,
How can I pass beneath Thy rod!'
The soldier walked across the floor,
Paused at the window, at the door,
Wiped the cold dew-drops from his cheek
And sought the mourner's side again.
'Once more, dear lady, I must speak:
Your last remaining son was slain
Just at the closing of the fight,
'Twas he who sent me here to-night.'
'God knows,' the man said afterward,
'The fight itself was not so hard.'
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In the Orchard
'I thought you loved me.' 'No, it was only fun.'
'When we stood there, closer than all?' 'Well, the harvest moon
Was shining and queer in your hair, and it turned my head.'
'That made you?' 'Yes.' 'Just the moon and the light it made
Under the tree?' 'Well, your mouth, too.' 'Yes, my mouth?'
'And the quiet there that sang like the drum in the booth.
You shouldn't have danced like that.' 'Like what?' 'So close,
Whith your head turned up, and the flower in your hair, a rose
That smelt all warm.' 'I loved you. I thought you knew
I wouldn't have danced like that with any but you.'
'I didn't know, I thought you knew it was fun.'
'I thought it was love you meant.' 'Well, it's done.' 'Yes, it's done.
I've seen boys stone a blackbird, and watched them drown
A kitten... it clawed at the reeds, and they pushed it down
Into the pool while it screamed. Is that fun, too?'
'Well, boys are like that... Your brothers...' 'Yes, I know.
But you, so lovely and strong! Not you! Not you!'
'They don't understand it's cruel. It's only a game.'
'And are girls fun, too?' 'No, still in a way it's the same.
It's queer and lovely to have a girl...' 'Go on.'
'It makes you mad for a bit to feel she's your own,
And you laugh and kiss her, and maybe you give her a ring,
But it's only in fun.' 'But I gave you everything.'
'Well, you shouldn't have done it. You know what a fellow thinks
When a girl does that.' 'Yes, he talks of her over his drinks
And calles her a--' 'Stop that now, I thought you knew.'
'But it wasn't with anyone else. It was only you.'
'How did I know? I thought you wanted it too.
I thought you were like the rest. Well, what's to be done?'
'To be done' 'Is it all right?' 'Yes.' 'Sure?' 'Yes, but why?'
'I don't know, I thought you where going to cry.
You said you had something to tell me.' 'Yes, I know.
It wasn't anything relly... I think I'll go.'
'Yes, it's late. There's thunder about, a drop of rain
Fell on my hand in the dark. I'll see you again
At the dance next week. You're sure that everything's right?'
'Yes,' 'Well, I'll be going.' 'Kiss me...' 'Good night.' ... 'Good night.'
poem by Muriel Stuart
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Be Happy For Me
I held his hand when I was young,
I held it when his life was done,
Held it as he sighed his last -
Recalling times, and glories passed.
Then, as a child and hoisted high
I soared with clouds, became the sky,
When riding on his shoulders broad
No oceans depths could we not ford.
I never thought to see him weak
That words, he would choke to speak,
To see him quietly lying there,
How tortured is my own despair?
The finest words, he spoke, when well,
Before that black and final knell,
My mentor still now on the ear
And freely rolls the grieving tear.
He bade me close toward the end,
Blue eyes of my greatest friend,
In that moment, I soared above -
Hoisted by his undying love.
Cheek to cheek I sought his words,
Was adrift upon his sea,
Then gasping like a drowning man,
Heard, “Please be happy for me.”
poem by John Thomas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Maniac
I saw them sitting in the shade;
The long green vines hung over,
But could not hide the gold-haired maid
And Earl, my dark-eyed lover.
His arm was clasped so close, so close,
Her eyes were softly lifted,
While his eyes drank the cheek of rose
And breasts like snowflakes drifted.
A strange noise sounded in my brain;
I was a guest unbidden.
I stole away, but came again
With two knives snugly hidden.
I stood behind them. Close they kissed,
While eye to eye was speaking;
I aimed my steels, and neither missed
The heart I sent it seeking.
There were two death-shrieks mingled so
It seemed like one voice crying.
I laughed-it was such bliss, you know,
To hear and see them dying.
I laughed and shouted while I stood
Above the lovers, gazing
Upon the trickling rills of blood
And frightened eyes fast glazing.
It was such joy to see the rose
Fade from her cheek forever;
To know the lips he kissed so close
Could answer never, never.
To see his arm grow stark and cold,
And know it could not hold her;
To know that while the world grew old
His eyes could not behold her.
A crowd of people thronged about,
Brought thither by my laughter;
I gave one last triumphant shout-
Then darkness followed after.
That was a thousand years ago;
Each hour I live it over,
For there, just out of reach, you know,
She
lies, with Earl, my lover.
They lie there, staring, staring so
With great, glazed eyes to taunt me.
Will no one bury them down low,
Where they shall cease to haunt me?
He kissed her lips, not mine; the flowers
And vines hung all about them
Sometimes I sit and laugh for hours
To think just how I found them.
And then I sometimes stand and shriek
In agony of terror:
I see the red warm in her cheek,
Then laugh loud at my error.
My cheek was all too pale he thought;
He deemed hers far the brightest.
Ha! but my dagger touched a spot
That made
her
face the whitest!
But oh, the days seem very long,
Without my Earl, my lover;
And something in my head seems wrong
The more I think it over.
Ah! look-she is not dead-look there!
She's standing close beside me!
Her eyes are open-how they stare!
Oh, hide me! hide me! hide me!
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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