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The Danube River
Long live the danube river
Where every man from all over the world sail
Just to be with you
Danube river
poem by Aldo Kraas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Sleeping Dammed
the sleeping dammed
miss the mornings dawn
in all its beauty
a time of the day
good for the soul
birdsong, sunshine, peace
underline serenity
who would wish to miss this
a time to gather thoughts
missed by the sleeping dammed
poem by Matthew Holloway
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The day my heart dammed me
The day my heart dammed me
~
You asked me to speak a truth
I told you that you were beautiful
How you really made me smile
That I wanted to be with you
You remained silent, grew distant
I knew that those words I spoke
Those feelings I wrote in clear view
Were as true as I could ever admit
How I wished you had not asked
For what I revealed to you became
The day my heart dammed me
How I could have stayed silent
Kept my feeling as a wistful dream
As I have done so often before
I felt as though I could confide in you
That the was no fear left to feel
I knew I was falling badly for you
And so wanted you to feel for me
So I said that you were beautiful
That you could make me smile
I asked to spend time with you
You remained silent, grew distant
The day my heart dammed me
poem by Matthew Holloway
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bad Blood Of Satan Soul Spat
with her hag spite voice of hate
bad blood of Satan soul spat
at a passing sublime woman pure hearted
“your fat” her repetitive curse crowed
but this good woman with pity turned
thought “fat may diet thin your soul is dammed”
dark soul glorified her hero Satan worshipped
destined to be ever ugly through eternity dammed
beauty looked upon worm heart soul sins shivered
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Blue Danube, Of Course, Strauss
WHO does not know this kind of dance
Like hopping grasshoppers
And butterflies fluttering
Hovering and then
To a quick change
Jumping
Like joy overpowering you
From an overwhelming sorrow,
It can start as a mellow single note
Then comes the other notes
And a lot others joining
Ended into one bombastic
Show
Of women in gowns
Held by men in black suits
And they dance from one end
To the other of this
Dance floor
Who cannot imagine the flow
Of the river Danube
And of course
Who cannot tell
Strauss there all his hands
Bombastically beating
To the rhythm of
A grand waltz
A dance of royalty
For a while
We adopt the mind frames
Of kings and queens
And princes and princesses
To the dance of
Blue Danube
A royal river flowing
To all the hearts of those
Who view life
Alive, rich, abundant
Opulent, of expensive gowns
And silk suits and perfumes
And wine
Oh, it will be only for a night
The blue Danube is now turned
To real blue
The women have bruises
The men have strong fists
And the song perished
In that sickened mind.
You wake up,
The blue Danube
Is a polluted creek
And all the fish
There are already dead.
And who was strauss?
It is you, the complete
Manic-depressive
delusional
Disillusioned
citizen
Of this dancefloor
republic.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Love Or Lust
When will i not feel what i feel
Cause we take whats not ours
We take we steal
I want no i dont but i do
Do i want you
We want what we cant have
But when we have do we really want
Love lust
Is it a need a want or a must
I feel free without love
I feel free without lust
But we can never be free without trust
We are dammed if we do
Dammed if we dont
Are we here for love, lust
Or just here to vote
Vote for what we desire more
Do we even know what we are voting for
Who will win
Who will come out on top
One thing we can be sure of both cant be stopped
Publish and be dammed.
quote by Duke of Wellington
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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He sometimes ran a purple ribbon through his typewriter and gushed where he should have dammed.
quote by T.E. Kalem
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Live After Death
Past beyond the light
Lays those evil deeds
Lost my love
Lost my life
In this garden of fear
Holy love is nomore
Make no sense of it all
Judas before his fall
What you see is not real
But simply an illusion
It a whole new world
Where the chaos prevails
Abominations beyond your imagination
Dont care for this world no more
Who cares now what right or wrong
Its reality
Lost my love
Lost my dreams
Had every promise broken
There anger in my heart
Drown in the sins of all those years
No mercy
No more tears
Killing time is about to begin
Lost my love
Lost my fear
If there a home
Then its far away
Must mean that i am lost
Stray away from the path of holiness
What a shame
That I am dammed
Will my soul burn in the lake of fire
Or freeze beneath the artic tire
Dammed from the start that I was born
Going to the land of nevermore
poem by Diego Trejo
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Much water will flow in the Danube until then.
It will happen when the Danube reverts its course or dries up.
The Beautiful Blue Danube
They drift down the hall together;
He smiles in her lifted eyes.
Like waves of that mighty river
The strains of the ‘Danube’ rise.
They float on its rhythmic measure,
Like leaves on a summer stream;
And here, in this scene of pleasure,
I bury my sweet dead dream.
Through the cloud of her dusky tresses,
Like a star, shines out her face;
And the form of his strong arm presses
Is sylph-like in its grace.
As a leaf on the bounding river
Is lost in the seething sea,
I know that for ever and ever
My dream is lost to me.
And still the viols are playing
That grand old wordless rhyme;
And still those two are swaying
In perfect tune and time.
If the great bassoons that mutter,
If the clarinets that blow,
Were given the chance to utter
The secret things they know.
Would the lists of the slain who slumber
On the Danube’s battle-plains
The unknown hosts outnumber
Who die ‘neath the ‘Danube’s’ strains?
Those fall where the cannons rattle,
‘Mid the rain of shot and shell;
But these, in a fiercer battle,
Find death in the music’s swell.
With the river’s roar of passion
Is blended the dying groan;
But here, in the halls of fashion,
Hearts break, and make no moan.
And the music, swelling and sweeping,
Like the river, knows it all;
But none are counting or keeping
The lists of those who fall.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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A Single hand cannot wash itself even in the Danube river.
What we call happiness in the strictest sense comes from the (preferably sudden) satisfaction of needs which have been dammed up to a high degree.
quote by Bernard le Bovier de Fontenelle
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Workin For A Livin
Chris hayes / huey lewis
Somedays wont end ever and somedays pass on by,
Ill be working here forever, at least until I die.
Dammed if you do, dammed if you dont
Im supposed to get a raise week, you know damn well I wont.
Workin for a livin (workin)
Workin for a livin (workin)
Workin for a livin, livin and workin
Im taking what they giving cause Im working for a livin.
Hey Im not complaining cause I really need the work
Hitting up my buddys got me feeling like a jerk
Hundred dollar car note, two hundred rent.
I get a check on friday, but its all ready spent.
Workin for a livin (workin)
Workin for a livin (workin)
Workin for a livin, livin and workin
Im taking what they giving cause Im working for a livin.
Ooh, workin for a livin
Ooh, taking what they giving
Ooh, workin for a livin
Ooh, ooh
Bus boy, bartender, ladies of the night
Grease monkey, ex-junky, winner of the fight
Walking on the streets its really all the same
Selling souls, rock n roll, any other day
Workin for a livin (workin)
Workin for a livin (workin)
Workin for a livin, livin and workin
Im taking what they giving cause Im working for a livin.
Workin for a livin, livin and workin
Im taking what they giving cause Im working for a livin.
Workin for a livin, livin and workin
song performed by by Huey Lewis And The News
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pastel poem [Pastel]
At sunset, from beyond the peaks,
Red blinks at dusk in silence glow
They break in small and shining streaks,
Which into shaded Danube flow.
The murky waves bury them all
And under osiers downstream,
On water hardly shake and crawl
Like orange peel, or so they seem.
Down there, above the forest, soon,
Where shrubberies are dark and wet,
Rises the handsome crescent moon
And sparkles from a minaret.
And, as if painted with this goal,
The island casts its shadow long,
Cut from the world, playing the role
Of a medieval castle, strong.
Looks like a ship charmed near the shore
Which anchored at the mountains' feet,
A wonder dreamed and waited for
By the old Danube's water sheet!
In the clear nights, calm, half asleep,
It waited for the morning bright,
To get out of the water deep
And come to surface in the light
A floating garden, purest one,
With trees and birds that sing in tune,
With flowers laughing at the sun,
But trembling scared under the moon.
poem by George Topîrceanu, translated by Octavian Cocoş
Submitted by anonym
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Shoes on the Bank of the Danube
On a sunny day in Budapest
The Danube Promenade offers a serene stroll.
The Royal Palace perched on Castle Hill
Greets you under an azure sky
And the mountains of Buda wave brightly
Their wooded hands across the river.
But along your peaceful walk listen
To the quiet murmur of the Danube,
Listen to the shifting waves that whisper
About bottomless grieves and sorrows.
The river drifts irremovable memories,
On the flowing waters float
Myriad sad stories.
Not far from the Parliament building
And the Academy of Sciences
Sculpted shoes cast in iron
Line the left bank of the Danube;
Between Roosevelt Square and Kossuth Square:
Sixty period-exact footwear,
In the style of the 1940s, conceived
And created by the sculptor Gyula Pauer
And the poet Janos Can Togay.
Attached to the top of the stone embankment,
The shoes symbolize real shoes of real people
Who lost their lives here.
They commemorate thousands of persecuted
Men, women and children,
Mostly Jews, who were murdered
By Nazi thugs in the terrible days
Of the Hungarian Arrow Cross terror
Between October 1944 and February 1945.
While the Soviet Red Army had encircled
Budapest and its units were already fighting
In the suburbs of the capital, Arrow Cross
Militiamen rounded up Jews in groups of fifty
To sixty and led them to the bridges linking
Pest with Buda.
When they reached the river bank
The executioners told their frightened victims
To remove their shoes and put all their jewellery,
Watches, money and other valuables inside.
And then they shot them into a freezing death.
Drift ice floated on the winter Danube,
The water turned red from the blood of the victims
As the river carried away their bodies.
On a serene walk along the Danube
Listen to the quiet murmur of the river.
Listen to the shifting waves that whisper
About bottomless grieves and sorrows.
The river drifts irremovable memories,
On the flowing waters float myriad sad stories.
poem by Paul Hartal
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Water
Blue as the Danube
Yellow as mud
Green as the rashes
Red as the sun
Golden as gold is
Black as the night
But, owing, finally,
To the machinations of the Word,
Colorless.
poem by Morgan Michaels
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Softly Then Sleep
Fluid drips angrily arm valid hot
rows death to banked shores on
beach needles pined body down
flowing pain Danube blew to blue.
poem by Is It Poetry
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