White flowers are not to be found in a coal sack.
Related quotes
Coal-Truck
I am a coal-truck
Carrying gold dust.
Someone threw some
Coal-dust upon
My gold-dust.
I am a coal-truck
In a gold mine.
Someone struck a coal vein
And piled me full in vain.
I am a coal-truck
Covered in subterranean dust.
Someone shovelled my soil
And found an ancient bone
All coiled.
I am a coal-truck
Waiting for the rain.
The sun is my rail
The night my shed.
I am a coal-truck
Rumbling all the way.
Wash me in the rain-storm
And fill me full of coke
Until I choke.
(©: T. Wignesan,1957 - Pub. in 'Forum Academicum', Heidelberg University,1957; from the collection: Tracks of a Tramp. Kuala Lumpur-Singapore: 1961)
poem by T. Wignesan
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A Diamond Or A Coal?
A diamond or a coal?
A diamond, if you please:
Who cares about a clumsy coal
Beneath the summer trees?
A diamond or a coal?
A coal, sir, if you please:
One comes to care about the coal
What time the waters freeze.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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My Dear Irish Grandfather
My grandfather recalled
Some days of old when he
Collected pieces of coal -
Black cotton -
From the train tracks in his town, our U.S.A.
In his hands he'd hold
Pieces he brought home - coal to burn in a pot belly stove -
The only way sometimes
For him and his 'Pa'to keep warm back then in the days of old.
That's a story he told me.
I remember as a little girl
Walking along the road to the little one room candy store - the road that was
Part of my world -
By the greenhouses where flowers grew for market.
My friends and I looked for coke bottles amoung the tall grasses
Worth not one cent but two!
Each small glass bottle we found meant two pieces of penny candy -
Like a Christmas stocking feast - making our hearts soar..
My grandfather found coal
But lots of times we got candy at the penny candy store!
poem by Gayle Sweeney
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A malicious man is like a coal sack -- black on the outside and even blacker inside.
Verses To John Tupper
DEAR Jack
Alack!
A few days back
I bound myself by oath to smack
My lips o'er sloshy tea, and attack
White, brown, or black
Bread, and vile jokes to crack,
This night with brutes whose knack
Would squeeze a pun in Syriac.
And for to—morrow, alack!
I have a model on my track,
So that I may not pack.
Of course I writhe upon the rack:
Though as to NATURE, Jack,
(Poor dear old hack!)
Touching sky, sun, stone, stick, and stack,
I guess I'm half a quack;
For whom ten lines of Browning whack
The whole of the Zodiac.
Nevertheless, alack!
Seeing this time I must send back
To Prince and Baron, Stephens and Jack
(Spec—cadav Rex, hic hæc hoc hac),
And to the Maniac,
The sack.
This much from D.G.R. (in black,
I.e., with coal—ash cloth—of—sack.)
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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Rainbow Butterflies
Rainbow butterflies, hovering around
competing for nectar, where flowers are found
They know their life span is very short
they wont give up or their mission abort
To drink from the flowers whenever they can
turning into rainbows, again and again
Rainbow butterflies, hovering around
in suspended animation, where flowers are found.
poem by White Tiger
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Mining For Coal
(Matraca Berg/Ronnie Samoset)
I've searched the world over all of my life
Just looking for something
To make my love shine
Like a candle that burns in the night
But I came up with nothing
Till I looked in your eyes
Deeper and deeper inside
And all of the treasures
I found in your soul
Was like finding a diamond
When you're mining for coal
I've been a fool for glitter and gold
And women that sparkle shiny and cold
Like a statue carved out of ice
They shimmer like tinsel
On a blue Christmas night
But they never were quite so bright
As all of the treasures
That loving you holds
It's like finding a diamond
When you're mining for coal
I was a miner
And you were a rock in the dust
But you became flawless
When you were you polished by love
And when I found you
I lost all control
I found me a diamond
Just mining for coal
song performed by by Randy Travis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cremation
Well the coal black sea waits for me me me
The coal black sea waits forever
The waves hit the shore
Crying more more more
But the coal black sea waits forever
The tornados come up the coast they run
Hurricanes rip the sky forever
Through the weathers change
the sea remains the same
The coal black sea waits forever
There are ashes split through collective guilt
People rest at sea forever
Since they burnt you up
Collect you in a cup
For you the coal black sea has no terror
Will your ashes float like some foreign boat
or will they sink absorbed forever
Will the Atlantic Coast
have its final boast
Nothing else contained you ever
Now the coal black sea waits for me me me
The coal black sea waits forever
When I leave this joint
at some further point
The same coal black sea will it be waiting
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cremation - Ashes To Ashes
Well the coal-black sea waits for me-me-me
The coal-black sea waits forever
The waves hit the shore, crying more-more-more
But the coal-black sea waits forever
The tornados come up the coast they run
Hurricanes rip the sky forever
Through the weathers change, the sea remains the same
The coal-black sea waits forever
There are ashes split through collective guilt
People rest at sea forever
Since they burnt you up, collect you in a cup
For you the coal-black sea has no terror
Will your ashes float like some foreign boat
Or will they sink absorbed forever
Will the atlantic coast, have its final boast
Nothing else contained you ever
Now the coal-black sea waits for me-me-me
The coal-black sea waits forever
When I leave this joint at some further point
The same coal-black sea will it be waiting
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Identity of Images (Identité des images)
I am fighting furiously with animals and bottles
In a short time perhaps ten hours have passed one
after another
The beautiful swimmer who was afraid of coral wakes
this morning
Coral crowned with holly knocks on her door
Ah! coal again always coal
I conjure you coal tutelary genius of dreams and my
solitude let me let me speak again of the beautiful
swimmer who was afraid of coral
No longer tyrannize this seductive subject of my
dreams
The beautiful swimmer was reposing in a bed of lace
and birds
The clothes on a chair at the foot of the bed were
illuminated by gleams the last gleams of coal
The one that had come from the depths of the sky and
earth and sea was proud of its coral beak and great
wings of crape
All night long it had followed divergent funerals toward
suburban cemeteries
It had been to embassy balls marked white satin gowns with
its imprint a fern leaf
It had risen terribly before ships and the ships had not
returned
Now crouched in the chimney it was watching for the
waking of foam and singing of kettles
Its resounding step had disturbed the silence of nights
in streets with sonorous pavements
Sonorous coal coal master of dreams coal
Ah tell me where is that beautiful swimmer the swimmer
who was afraid of coral?
But the swimmer herself has gone back to sleep
And I remain face to face with the fire and shall remain
through the night interrogating the coal with wings of
darkness that persists in projecting on my monotonous
road the shadow of its smoke and the terrible
reflections of its embers
Sonorous coal coal pitiless coal
poem by Robert Desnos
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Further, the United States is moving ahead in the development of clean coal technology. There are vast coal reserves in our country, and when it is burned cleanly, coal can provide a resource to supply a large amount of our energy requirements.
quote by Virgil Goode
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Beat It On Down The Line
Well this job Ive got is just a little too hard,
Running out of money, lord, I need more pay.
Gonna wake up in the morning lord, gonna pack my bags,
Im gonna beat it on down the line.
Im goin down the line, goin down the line,
Goin down the line, goin down the line,
Goin down the line, goin down the line,
Beat it on down the line.
Yes Ill be waiting at the station lord, when that train pulls on by,
Im going back where I belong.
Im going back to that same old used-to-be,
Down in joe browns coal mine.
Coal mine, coal mine, coal mine, coal mine.
Coal mine, coal mine, coal mine, coal mine.
Coal mine, coal mine, coal mine, coal mine.
Down in joe browns coal mine.
Yeah, Im goin back to that shack way across that railroad track,
Uh huh, thats where I think I belong.
And thats where Im gonna make my happy home.
Happy home, happy home, happy home, happy home.
Happy home, happy home, happy home, happy home.
Happy home, happy home, happy home, happy home.
Thats where Im gonna make my happy home.
song performed by by Grateful Dead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Flowers of mercy
In the field they are scattered
pink, white and brown-red
and emerge by them self
as if by mercy
and shoot up between blades of grass
and weeds
and the brittle heads
looks almost plastic fine
and still there’s nothing artificial
where the flowers stand in the veldt
with only the rain and sun
going over them.
Your love I also found
so unplanted,
which by its own accord
grows into my depths
and through hard times
still stays with me.
Other flowers
want to bloom around me
and I try and cut old feelings
down short,
as you are the flower
of flowers to me
and I just want to grow
deeper into your soul.
poem by Gert Strydom
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A Tale Never Told
A Tale Never Told
The old man, who carried what, appeared to be and empty sack
over his shoulder when he walked through the village, is no more;
and I never got around asking him what was in his jute sack.
I think he carried around stories untold, dreams and translucent
memories of childhood. He was the brother of another old man
the one with a white donkey who came to our village selling
juicy, big lemons; alas he too has gone. He said of his brother,
the dreamer, walked amongst the stars and had forgotten how
to talk except to trees rose bushes and animals in the forest.
I once saw him in the glade playing mouth harmonica to a flock
of sheep that for once forgot to eat. When seeing me he stopped,
got up, smiled shyly and walked his way followed by snow white
rabbits; I fancied they were angels. I look up to the October sky
and sense his shadow and smile casting peace upon me.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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An empty sack can't stand up; a full sack cannot bend.
Virgin Islander proverbs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Flowers
(orbison/dees)
When I was a boy I ran among the flowers
Looking left and right at the bright array
I played through the spring, whiled away the hours
Lingered with the flowers every day
Flowers, pretty flowers, flowers, lifes bouquet
Flowers, pretty flowers, flowers, along the way
Flowers, pretty flowers, flowers, lifes bouquet
Flowers, pretty flowers, flowers, along the way
When the summer ends and the storms of life are over
When the winter comes and the petals fall away
They may write it on my stone, he was just a roller
But he stopped to pick some flowers along the way
Flowers, pretty flowers, flowers, lifes bouquet
Flowers, picked some flowers, along the way
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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