Related quotes: The sun emerges from behind...

Landscape with Suns

The sun emerges from behind the house
stands in the middle of the street
and breathes on us
with its red wind.
Innsbruck I must leave you.
But tomorrow
there will be a glowing sun
in the gray, half-dead forest
where we must work and live.

poem by Tomas Transtromer from The Sorrow Gondola
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Related quotes

Our House

Father wears his sunday best
Mothers tired she needs a rest
The kids are playing up downstairs
Sisters sighing in her sleep
Brothers got a date to keep
He cant hang around
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our ...
Our house it has a crowd
Theres always something happening
And its usually quite loud
Our mum shes so house-proud
Nothing ever slows her down
And a mess is not allowed
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our ...
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our ...
Something tells you that youve got to get away from it
Father gets up late for work
Mother has to iron his shirt
Then she sends the kids to school
Sees them off with a small kiss
Shes the one theyre going to miss
In lots of ways
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our ...
I remember way back then when everything was true and when
We would have such a very good time such a fine time
Such a happy time
And I remember how wed play simply waste the day away
Then wed say nothing would come between us two dreamers
Father wears his sunday best
Mothers tired she needs a rest
The kids are playing up downstairs
Sisters sighing in her sleep
Brothers got a date to keep
He cant hang around
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our ...
Our house, was our castle and our keep
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, that was where we used to sleep
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our street

song performed by by Madness
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Street Mission

I dont know
Man, I just got here
You got me thinking
Im about to leave
Some say maybe tomorrow
New direction, hello
What I know know know
What I know know know
I walk tall
I walk in the wild wind
I love to stare
I love to watch myself grow
Someday, maybe tomorrow
New direction, hello
Well I know know know
Well I know know know
Street mission
Street mission
Street mission
Street mission
And Im promising nothing
Im just living a smile
I casually arrange it
I know...well I know know know
Street mission
Street mission
Street mission
Street mission
I walk tall
I walk in the wild wind
I live an image
Of plastic and gold
Some say maybe tomorrow
A resurrection, hello
Well I know know know
Well I know know know
Well I know know know
Well I know know know
Oh...
Oh...
Oh...i need something
I need someone
I need you
Oh...Ive got something
Ive got someone
Ive got you
Street mission
Street mission
Street mission
Good night

song performed by by U2
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Street Missions

I don't know
Man, I just got here
You got me thinking
I'm about to leave
Some say maybe tomorrow
New direction, hello
What I know know know
What I know know know
I walk tall
I walk in the wild wind
I love to stare
I love to watch myself grow
Someday, maybe tomorrow
New direction, hello
Well I know know know
Well I know know know
Street mission
Street mission
Street mission
Street mission
And I'm promising nothing
I'm just living a smile
I casually arrange it
I know...well I know know know
Street mission
Street mission
Street mission
Street mission
I walk tall
I walk in the wild wind
I live an image
Of plastic and gold
Some say maybe tomorrow
A resurrection, hello
Well I know know know
Well I know know know
Well I know know know
Well I know know know
Oh...
Oh...
Oh...I need something
I need someone
I need you
Oh...I've got something
I've got someone
I've got you
Street mission
Street mission
Street mission
Good night

song performed by by U2
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dead End Street

Theres a crack up in the ceiling,
And the kitchen sink is leaking.
Out of work and got no money,
A sunday joint of bread and honey.
What are we living for?
Two-roomed apartment on the second floor.
No money coming in,
The rent collectors knocking, trying to get in.
We are strictly second class,
We dont understand,
(dead end!)
Why we should be on dead end street.
(dead end!)
People are living on dead end street.
(dead end!)
Gonna die on dead end street.
Dead end street (yeah)
Dead end street (yeah)
On a cold and frosty morning,
Wipe my eyes and stop me yawning.
And my feet are nearly frozen,
Boil the tea and put some toast on.
What are we living for?
Two-roomed apartment on the second floor.
No chance to emigrate,
Im deep in debt and now its much too late.
We both want to work so hard,
We cant get the chance,
(dead end!)
People live on dead end street.
(dead end!)
People are dying on dead end street.
(dead end!)
Gonna die on dead end street.
Dead end street (yeah)
Dead end street (yeah)
(dead end!)
People live on dead end street.
(dead end!)
People are dying on dead end street.
(dead end!)
Gonna die on dead end street.
Dead end street (yeah)
Dead end street (yeah)
Dead end street (yeah)
Head to my feet (yeah)
Dead end street (yeah)
Dead end street (yeah)
Dead end street (yeah)
Hows it feel? (yeah)
Hows it feel? (yeah)
Dead end street (yeah)
Dead end street (yeah)

song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dear wife

I work so hard
I have no time for supper, breakfast, and dinner
Got a cracker and a noodle
A little solid a little hot liquid Are enough since I need a lot of time
Before my computer And this is non-stop working for the whole day
My cell phone is on silent mode and I cannot open it
I work the whole day, concentrated and straight It is eleven o’clock in the evening I arrive in the house and you say a lot of things I do not care anymore as I drag my dead tired body Towards the room and eyes half-closed I almost stepped upon your expensive porcelain vase
I lay on bed my shoes and sock still on my feet I did know anything since then Dead tired I am dead asleep.
If you are unhappy and do not like me
Find the man who is not tired, just leave me I am dead asleep.
i am just your loving husband, tomorrow i will still be your loving husband, yes tomorrow, even if you decided to go away.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In The Middle Of Madness

(instrumental intro)
Dont you really love her, dont you really care
Youve been looking forever, how did she get you there
In the middle of madness, when all has gone
In the middle of madness, she walks, she breathes babylon
Isnt she so pretty, isnt she so fine
Havent you been blessed to hold her all the time
In the middle of madness, when all has gone
In the middle of madness, she walks, she breathes babylon
(cant figure out this part)
(instrumental)
Have you found a heaven, try to see the worth,
Looking at the future, shes right here on earth
In the middle of madness, when all has gone
In the middle of madness, she walks, she breathes babylon
In the middle of madness, when all has gone
In the middle of madness, she walks, she breathes babylon
(fade out)

song performed by by Ufo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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House and Man

One hour: as dim he and his house now look
As a reflection in a rippling brook,
While I remember him; but first, his house.
Empty it sounded. It was dark with forest boughs
That brushed the walls and made the mossy tiles
Part of the squirrels' track. In all those miles
Of forest silence and forest murmur, only
One house - 'Lonely!' he said, 'I wish it were lonely' -
Which the trees looked upon from every side,
And that was his.

He waved good-bye to hide
A sigh that he converted to a laugh.
He seemed to hang rather than stand there, half
Ghost-like, half like a beggar's rag, clean wrung
And useless on the brier where it has hung
Long years a-washing by sun and wind and rain.

But why I call back man and house again
Is there now a beech-tree's tip I see
As then I saw - I at the gate, and he
In the house darkness, - magpie veering about,
A magpie like a weathercock in doubt.

poem by Edward Thomas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Unknown Legend

She used to work in a diner
Never saw a woman look finer
I used to order just to watch her float across the floor
She grew up in a small town
Never put her roots down
Daddy always kept movin, so she did too.
Somewhere on a desert highway
She rides a harley-davidson
Her long blonde hair flyin in the wind
Shes been runnin half her life
The chrome and steel she rides
Collidin with the very air she breathes
The air she breathes.
You know it aint easy
You got to hold on
She was an unknown legend in her time
Now shes dressin two kids
Lookin for a magic kiss
She gets the far-away look in her eyes.
Somewhere on a desert highway
She rides a harley-davidson
Her long blonde hair flyin in the wind
Shes been runnin half her life
The chrome and steel she rides
Collidin with the very air she breathes
The air she breathes.

song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Gray Folk

THE house, with blind unhappy face,
Stands lonely in the last year's corn,
And in the grayness of the morn
The gray folk come about the place.

By many pathways, gliding gray
They come past meadow, wood, and wold,
Come by the farm and by the fold
From the green fields of yesterday.

Past lock and chain and bolt and bar
They press, to stand about my bed,
And like the faces of the dead
I know their hidden faces are.

They will not leave me in the day
And when night falls they will not go,
Because I silenced, long ago,
The only voice that they obey.

poem by Edith Nesbit
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The East Wind

Today i am reminded of my short comings and,
Tomorrow it will be your turn;
Because the rainbow knows when to appear and,
I will follow my mind always to success.

Today you are reminded of your short comings and,
Tomorrow it will be another person;
For i am in the house of the Captain of the guards and,
I have a plan for my servant.

Like the dream that i had last night,
And of the magicians of Egypt;
I am now very thin and scorched by the east wind.

The wise of the world do not understand Yahweh's plan,
But my plan is revealed to you my lover;
Just like the house of a prostitute called Lulu.

Let your eyes behold me my love and,
Let the flint of knives of the circumcision work;
For i am just like the first horn of the bull but,
My faith will always lead me on.

The east wind,
And of the horn of the wild ox;
Do not prolong your stay in the forest my love!
For i am here tonight with the prepared meal,
And i will wait to see your face.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Translations

do not be lost in the forest of translations.
we live there once.
we live the word of the soothsayers
focusing on
crystal balls,
do not be amazed with those that we
do not really understand
those that we categorize as mysteries
we suspect after all that they do not exist
and now i can glean from your silence
as you fathom a deep void
inside my heart
dipping your tongue with something
that tastes bland
a little sour like rotten apple
you cannot hold me
perhaps only on the side
like the icing of a cake
at the middle
i am one kind of a doughnut
hole.

i am not slippery, neither am i thorny
(do not spell it as horny)
with all regret when you try to find the house
where i live
i am not a forest, i am not a tree even

i have the body of that whisper
what is it? you know it. i have no one and i am
nothing.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Absoluteless

tomorrow you might wake up in prison or
tomorrow you might have the most amazing orgasm of your life
or tomorrow you might be hit by a semi crossing the street or
tomorrow you might find out your significant other is cheating on you
or tomorrow you might win the lottery or
tomorrow you might get robbed & beat within an inch of your life while you are asleep
or tomorrow you might get hired to work your dream job or
tomorrow you might meet the match to blurt out all other romantic inquiries
or tomorrow you might find out you have a debilitating disease or
tomorrow you might get in a car that runs out of gas & have to walk all the way home
or tomorrow you might travel to your most sought out destination or
tomorrow you might finish your novel
or tomorrow you might win a marathon or
tomorrow you might have a heart attack
or tomorrow you might graduate with a doctorate degree or
tomorrow you might move to your favorite city
or tomorrow you might fall in love again or
tomorrow you might get a drug habit
or tomorrow you might get audited by the IRS or
tomorrow you might get sick of reading this piece
or tomorrow you might stop reading & curse the time spent
having done so.

poem by Andrew Delapruch
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Home From The Forest

Oh the neon lights were flashin
And the icy wind did blow
The water seeped into his shoes
And the drizzle turned to snow
His eyes were red, his hopes were dead
And the wine was runnin low
And the old man came home
From the forest
His tears fell on the sidewalk
As he stumbled in the street
A dozen faces stopped to stare
But no one stopped to speak
For his castle was a hallway
And the bottle was his friend
And the old man stumbled in
From the forest
Up a dark and dingy staircase
The old man made his way
His ragged coat around him
As upon his cot he lay
And he wondered how it happened
That he ended up this way
Getting lost like a fool
In the forest
And as he lay there sleeping
A vision did appear
Upon his mantle shining
A face of one so dear
Who had loved him in the springtime
Of a long-forgotten year
When the wildflowers did bloom
In the forest
She touched his grizzled fingers
And she called him by his name
And then he heard the joyful sound
Of children at their games
In an old house on a hillside
In some forgotten town
Where the river runs down
From the forest
With a mighty roar the big jets soar
Above the canyon streets
And the con men con but life goes on
For the city never sleeps
And to an old forgotten soldier
The dawn will come no more
For the old man has come home
From the forest

song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Illegitimate's

I work for a man who own's a farm.
I work for a man with a stable FULL of horses.
I work for a man who own's a resturant.
I work for a man who own's three Lexus's (one for him, one for her, one for HER horse) .
I work for a man who sails the caribean for HIS holiday's.
' Illegitimate's! ! ! ! ! ! '
The last time I was in this situation, there was two of them.
Luckily this time there is only one!
I work for a man who own's a bakery.
I work for a man who has an Olympic sized swimming pool (half inside and half outside of his house) .
Etc, Etc, Etc, Etc,

poem by Roger Costello
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The House You Live In

Go first in the world, go forth with your fears
Remember a price must be paid
Be always too soon, be never too fast
At the time when all bets must be laid
Beware of the darkness, be kind to your children
Remember the woman who waits
And the house you live in will never fall down
If you pity the stranger who stands at your gate
When youre caught by the gale and youre full under sail
Beware of the dangers below
And the song that you sing should not be too sad
And be sure not to sing it too slow
Be calm in the face of all common disgraces
And know what theyre doin it for
And the house you live in will never fall down
If you pity the stranger who stands at your door
When youre out on the road and feelin quite lost
Consider the burden of fame
And he who is wise will not criticize
When other men fail at the game
Beware of strange faces and dark dingy places
Be careful while bending the law
And the house you live in will never fall down
If you pity the stranger who stands at your door
When youre down in the dumps and not ready to deal
Decide what it is that you need
Is it money or love, is it learnin to live
Or is it the mouth you must feed
Be known as a man who will always be candid
On questions that do not relate
And the house you live in will never fall down
If you pity the stranger who stands at your gate
And the house you live in will never fall down
If you pity the stranger who stands at your gate

song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To Fall Ill as One Should, Deliriously

To fall ill as one should, deliriously
Hot, meet everyone again,
To stroll broad avenues in the seashore garden
Full of the wind and the sun.

Even the dead, today, have agreed to come,
And the exiles, into my house.
Lead the child to me by the hand.
Long I have missed him.

I shall eat blue grapes with those who are dead,
Drink the iced
Wine, and watch the gray waterfall pour
On to the damp flint bed.

------

Behind the lake the moon's not stirred
And seems to be a window through
Into a silent, well-lit house,
Where something unpleasant has occured.

Has the master been brought home dead,
The mistress run off with a lover,
Or has a little girl gone missing,
And her shoes found by the creek-bed...

We can't see. But feel some awful thing,
And we don't want to talk.
Doleful, the cry of eagle-owls, and hot
In the garden the wind is blustering.

poem by Anna Akhmatova
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In The Middle

Don't cross the street in the middle in the middle
In the middle in the middle in the middle of the block
Don't cross the street in the middle in the middle
In the middle in the middle in the middle of the block
Use your eyes to look up
Use your ears to hear
Walk up to the corner when the coast is clear
And wait
And wait
Until you see the light turn green
Don't cross the street in the middle in the middle
In the middle in the middle in the middle of the block
Don't cross the street in the middle in the middle
In the middle in the middle in the middle of the block
Don't cross the street in the middle in the middle
In the middle in the middle in the middle of the block
Use your eyes to look up
Use your ears to hear
Walk up to the corner when the coast is clear
And wait
And wait
Until you see the light turn green
Don't cross the street in the middle in the middle
In the middle in the middle in the middle of the block
Don't cross the street in the middle in the middle
In the middle in the middle in the middle of the block

song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In The Middle Of...

You've got a LOT that's riding...
But it's not riding right.
Some things you've got there are riding,
Tilted to the side.

You've got a LOT that's riding.
But it's not riding right.
Some things you've got there are riding,
Tilted to the side.

You're in the middle of,
What you should let go.
You're in the middle of...
Grief and sorrow.

Wanting to borrow time,
Now and not tomorrow.

You're in the middle of,
What you should let go.
You're in the middle of...
Grief and sorrow.
And wanting to borrow time,
Now and not tomorrow.

You're in the middle of,
Now and not tomorrow.
You're,
In the middle of...
Now and not tomorrow.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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An Alarm

Life is like the burial of a donkey and,
The dead make us weep all day;
Life is like a fire in the forest and,
The dead make us weep all day;
Life is like the price of war!
And the dead make us weep all day;
Of an alarm at noon when,
You have the weapons of war around you.

Today a male child is born but,
Tomorrow comes the war!
Today a female child is born but,
Tomorrow comes the war!
Life is like that at times;
Of the terror on everyside of the globe! !

Life is like a spacious house with large chambers,
Life is like an old man with a sickle,
Life is like the valley of Ben Hinnom,
Life is like an old women looking for her missing child,
Life is like the cry of war!
But may the sun always shine on you who have hope.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Green Roads

The green roads that end in the forest
Are strewn with white goose feathers this June,

Life marks left behind by someone gone to the forest
To show his track. But he has never come back.

Down each green road a cottage looks at the forest.
Round one the nettle towers; two are bathed in flowers.

An old man along the green road to the forest
Strays from one, from another a child alone.

In the thicket bordering the forest,
All day long a thrush twiddles his song.

It is old, but the trees are young in the forest,
All but one like a castle keep, in the middle deep.

That oak saw the ages pass in the forest:
They were a host, but their memories are lost,

For the tree is dead: all things forget the forest
Excepting perhaps me, when now I see

The old man, the child, the goose feathers at the edge of the forest,
And hear all day long the thrush repeat his song.