The temple bell stops but I still hear the sound coming out of the flowers.
quote by Matsuo Basho
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Benediction
Read this poem only aloud
read it as slowly and with such solemn dignity
as if it were the whole great human race
declaring itself to be truly great
read it as if it were
as indeed it is
not words but a great sounding bell
and you are that great bell
so large a bell so low its boom
that it is more vibration than a sound
struck in a temple courtyard
by a robed monk so full of love
that he merges into love itself
every time he sounds the bell
and as its sound now travels up
into the clear mountain air
the goatherds and the goats hear in its sound
the meaning of their life
and in the fields the workers raise themselves
and know what blessing is
and in the valley the silence after each stroke
becomes more real
as the echo fades
and the air knows itself
this poem is the sound of the human heart
listening to itself beyond all words
hearing praise and gratitude and love
knowing themselves in stillness for what they are
this poem is what is beyond all words
smiling sorrowing as it seeks for words
as it vibrates out into the silence
the wonder of the unspoken
the magic of all that’s yet unmanifest
the thoughts yet to be thought
hear in this bell the sound that tells to all
that there is enough love
in one single human heart
to nourish the whole world
hear this bell sounding aloud
sound out eternal in your soul
* * *
[work in progress]
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sound Of The Bell
Found a place where we can talk
I found a way to reach a little ground
Keep your castle in my sandbox
Build it up so we can burn it down
Anyway I love my man
Love to keep him spinning round and round
Keep him feeling love for my hand
Any way to turn him inside out
I dont wanna go down like the sunlight
I dont wanna go out like the moonlight
I dont wanna be found at the sound of the bell
The sound of the bell
The sound of the bell
Meet me up and down again
Every time is sweeter than the last
Once you get a taste of impact
Youre always hungry for the crash
I dont wanna go down like the sunlight
I dont wanna go out like the moonlight
I dont wanna be found at the sound of the bell
The sound of the bell
The sound of the bell
And this is everything
I have loved
Yeah, I have loved
Break...
My...
Heart...
Down, I dont wanna go down like the sunlight
I dont wanna go out like the moonlight
I dont wanna be found at the sound of the bell
The sound of the bell
The sound of the bell
I dont wanna go down like the sunlight
I dont wanna go out like the moonlight
I dont wanna be found at the sound of the bell
The sound of the bell
The sound of the bell
Yeah...
(I dont wanna be found in the sunshine
I dont wanna be dim like a night light
I dont wanna be down like the sunlight
I dont wanna go out like the moonlight...)
song performed by by Veruca Salt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Duet
Milestone:
All my troubles disappear,
When the dinner-bell I hear,
Over woodland, dale, and fell,
Swinging slow with solemn swell,---
The dinner-bell! the dinner-bell!
Hippy:
What can bid my heart-ache fly?
What can bid my heart-ache die?
What can all the ills dispel,
In my morbid frame that dwell?
The dinner-bell! the dinner-bell!
Both:
Hark!---along the tangled ground,
Loudly floats the pleasing sound!
Sportive Fauns to Dryads tell,
'Tis the cheerful dinner-bell!
The dinner-bell! the dinner-bell!
poem by Thomas Love Peacock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Bell Of Freedom
Philadelphia's the home of freedom.
Liberty stands at the sound of a bell.
Freedom for the world.That's my religion.
Freedom in the states.That's the way it should be.
Ring-a-ling-a-ling.Here the bell of freedom.
Ring-a-ling-a-ling.Let's also ring this bell for the world.
There's a statue of a lady.In New York City.
Her torch burning bright, for the world to see.
Her meaning's just the same.She looks so pretty.
But nothing like the bell that rings so free.
Philadelphia's the home of freedom.
Liberty stands at the sound of a bell.
Freedom for the world.That's my religion.
Freedom in the states.That's the way it should be.
Ring-a-ling-a-ling.Hear the bell of freedom.
Ring-a-ling-a-ling.Let's also ring this bell for the world.
There's a flag that flies.It holds the same meaning.
Those stars and stripes, just wave in the air.
This flag's got a name.It's called Old Glory.
This flag flies along.While we're ringing the bell.
Ring-a-ling-a-ling.Hear the bell of freedom.
Ring-a-ling-a-ling.Let's also ring this bell for the world.
Philadelphia's the home of freedom.
Liberty stands at the sound of a bell.
Freedom for the world.That's my religion.
Freedom in the states.That's the way it should be.
Ring-a-ling-a-ling.Hear the bell of freedom.
Ring-a-ling-a-ling.Let's also ring this bell for the world...
Patriotic-Song-Poem By Kim Robin Edwards
Copyright 2002,2009..
ALL rights reserved..
poem by Kim Robin Edwards
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To Be Alive
Anderson/squire/howe/white/sherwood/khoroshev
Not a lot is missing
Every ounce of treasure found
And i believe that everyone should get what
They're allowed
Suspected of belief that comes suspended
In a sound
And everybody wants some
It's the sound they make in heaven
It's a sound for here on earth
I've heard it in the whispering
Of the wonders that we search
We've waited far too long
To hear the healing of the stars
'n' everybody wants some
Everybody wants some
Everybody wants some
Everybody wants some
Everybody wants some
To feel alive
Oh - does it get much better than this
Oh - does it get much better, much better
Oh - does it get much better than this, than this
There's the sound that keeps you trying
There's the sound that makes you smile
There's a sound in every corner
Of the world that we survive
Your temple is the harmony
You feel the sacred ground
Just wishing for the secret
To appear within the sound
Watching for the morning star
The rhythm of the sun
I hear it in my waking dreams
The singing has begun
The passion that we walk upon
The passion that we bring
Is written for the mountains
They love to hear us sing
Everybody wants some
Everybody wants some
Everybody wants some
Everybody wants some
To feel alive
Oh - doesn't get much better than this
Oh - doesn't get much better than this, than this
Who made me make believe
I'm alive i'm living
Never underestimate
The signals coming to you
Oh
The sounding of the earth
It shakes you, yes it shakes you
Oh
The sounding of the earth
It shakes you, let it shake you
Hep yadda
song performed by by Yes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To Be Alive
Anderson/squire/howe/white/sherwood/khoroshev
Not a lot is missing
Every ounce of treasure found
And i believe that everyone should get what
They're allowed
Suspected of belief that comes suspended
In a sound
And everybody wants some
It's the sound they make in heaven
It's a sound for here on earth
I've heard it in the whispering
Of the wonders that we search
We've waited far too long
To hear the healing of the stars
'n' everybody wants some
Everybody wants some
Everybody wants some
Everybody wants some
Everybody wants some
To feel alive
Oh - does it get much better than this
Oh - does it get much better, much better
Oh - does it get much better than this, than this
There's the sound that keeps you trying
There's the sound that makes you smile
There's a sound in every corner
Of the world that we survive
Your temple is the harmony
You feel the sacred ground
Just wishing for the secret
To appear within the sound
Watching for the morning star
The rhythm of the sun
I hear it in my waking dreams
The singing has begun
The passion that we walk upon
The passion that we bring
Is written for the mountains
They love to hear us sing
Everybody wants some
Everybody wants some
Everybody wants some
Everybody wants some
To feel alive
Oh - doesn't get much better than this
Oh - doesn't get much better than this, than this
Who made me make believe
I'm alive i'm living
Never underestimate
The signals coming to you
Oh
The sounding of the earth
It shakes you, yes it shakes you
Oh
The sounding of the earth
It shakes you, let it shake you
Hep yadda
song performed by by Yes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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They Who Prepare My Evening Meal Below
They who prepare my evening meal below
Carelessly hit the kettle as they go
With tongs or shovel,
And ringing round and round,
Out of this hovel
It makes an eastern temple by the sound.
At first I thought a cow bell right at hand
Mid birches sounded o'er the open land,
Where I plucked flowers
Many years ago,
Spending midsummer hours
With such secure delight they hardly seemed to flow.
poem by Henry David Thoreau
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Every Time She Walks
Listen in...
Listen...
Listen in...
Listen...
Listen in to the sound
All the day stops
Chords keep ringing
Can't believe what I've found
I'm shellshocked
Finding out
When I hear her coming 'round
I drop everything
When I hear her coming 'round
Yeah
Everytime she walks
Everytime she speaks
I can feel the ground
movin' underneath
And I don't remember how it ever was before
Daylight
It's alright
Even when she's gone
'cause it won't be long
I know everything is different
'Cause everytime she walks
Everytime she speaks
I can feel the ground
movin' underneath
And I don't remember how it ever was before
Everytime she walks
Everytime she speaks
I can feel the ground movin' underneath
And I don't remember how it ever was before
Everything is turned around
and nothing looks the same to me
She is music when she walks
She's playing me a melody
Everything is turned around
and nothing looks the same to me
Listen in...
Listen...
Listen in to the sound
All the day stops
Chords keep ringing
Got my feet on the ground
I'm not losing, losing
When I hear her coming 'round
I drop everything
When I hear her coming 'round
Yeah
'Cause everytime she walks
Everytime she speaks
I can feel the ground
movin' underneath
And I don't remember how it ever was before
Everytime she walks
Everytime she speaks
I can feel the ground
movin' underneath
And I don't remember how it ever was before
Everytime she walks
Everytime she speaks
It's like the world is turning just for me
It's like the w
song performed by by Fastball
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Water On Glass
Written by ricky & marty wilde
Cascading down
Theres a sound vaporising into vision
Its a sound in my head
That I feel and it shuts me in a prison
Say it wont last
Say it will pass
Always the sound in my brain
Can you hear it
Water on glass running down again
Water on glass that sound
Water on glass running round again
Help me, the sound of running waters
Coming down
Dancing away
Like the lights on a moving coloured river
Sounds in my head seem to run
And again I feel a shiver
Say it wont last
Pray it will pass
Always that sound in my brain
Can you hear it (can you hear it)
Water on glass running down again
Water on glass that sound
Water on glass running round again
Help me, the sound of running waters
Coming down
Water on glass running down again
Water on glass that sound
Water on glass running round again
Help me, the sound of running waters
Coming down
song performed by by Kim Wilde
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Japan
Today I pass the time reading
a favorite haiku,
saying the few words over and over.
It feels like eating
the same small, perfect grape
again and again.
I walk through the house reciting it
and leave its letters falling
through the air of every room.
I stand by the big silence of the piano and say it.
I say it in front of a painting of the sea.
I tap out its rhythm on an empty shelf.
I listen to myself saying it,
then I say it without listening,
then I hear it without saying it.
And when the dog looks up at me,
I kneel down on the floor
and whisper it into each of his long white ears.
It's the one about the one-ton temple bell
with the moth sleeping on its surface,
and every time I say it, I feel the excruciating
pressure of the moth
on the surface of the iron bell.
When I say it at the window,
the bell is the world
and I am the moth resting there.
When I say it at the mirror,
I am the heavy bell
and the moth is life with its papery wings.
And later, when I say it to you in the dark,
you are the bell,
and I am the tongue of the bell, ringing you,
and the moth has flown
from its line
and moves like a hinge in the air above our bed.
poem by Billy Collins
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Shearing's Coming
There's a sound of many voices in the camp and on the track,
And letters coming up in shoals to stations at the back;
And every boat that crosses from the sunny 'other side'
Is bringing waves of shearers for the swelling of the tide.
For the shearing's coming round, boys, the shearing's coming round,
And the stations of the mountains have begun to hear the sound.
They'll be talking up at Laghmor of the tallies that were shore,
And the man who broke the record is remembered at Benmore;
And the yarns of strikes and barneys will be told till all is blue,
And the ringers and the bosses will be passed in long review.
For the shearing's coming round, boys, the shearing's coming round,
And the stations of the mountains have begun to hear the sound.
The great Orari muster and the drafting of the men
Like a mob of ewes and wethers will be surely told again;
And a lot of heathen places that will rhyme with kangaroo
Will be named along with ringers and the things that they can do.
For the shearing's coming round, boys, the shearing's coming round,
And the stations of the mountains have begun to hear the sound.
At last the crowds will gather for the morning of the start,
And the slowest of the jokers will be trying to look smart;
And a few will get the bullet, and high hopes will have a fall,
And the bloke that talks the loudest stands a show of looking small.
For the shearing's coming round, chaps, the shearing's coming round,
And the voices of the workers have begun to swell the sound.
poem by David McKee Wright
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Child on the Cliffs
Mother, the root of this little yellow flower
Among the stones has the taste of quinine.
Things are strange to-day on the cliff. The sun shines so bright,
And the grasshopper works at his sewing machine
So hard. Here's one on my hand, mother, look;
I lie so still. There's one on your book.
But I have something to tell more strange. So leave
Your book to the grasshopper, mother dear, -
Like a green knight in a dazzling market-place -
And listen now. Can you hear what I hear
Far out? Now and then the foam there curls
And stretches a white arm out like a girl's.
Fishes and gulls ring no bells. There cannot be
A chapel or church between here and Devon,
With fishes or gulls ringing its bell, - hark! -
Somewhere under the sea or up in heaven.
'It's the bell, my son, out in the bay
On the buoy. It does sound sweet to-day.'
Sweeter I never heard, mother, no, not in all Wales.
I should like to be lying under that foam,
Dead, but able to hear the sound of the bell,
And certain that you would often come
And rest, listening happily.
I should be happy if that could be.
poem by Edward Thomas
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In a conclave
I fall I rise
Morning evening
Night day
And dying
And dying.
I open my eyes
See nothing
I hear everything
No sound there coming.
My temple my god
Still alive
My vision my emotion
Still alive.
And I invite
The rage of my wife
And my senses
Five.
I visualised
Sit in a conclave
Not shaped.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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State Of Independance
State of life-may I live-may I love
Coming out the sky, I name me a name
Coming out-silver word-what it is
It is the very nature of the sound the game
Siamese, Indionese. To Tibet treat the life
As a game, if you please
Coming up-Carabi-this sense of freedom
Derives from a medative State
Movin' on, 'believe' that's it, call it magic
Third world, it is, I only guessed it
Shablam idi Shablam ida
Shablam idi Shablam ida
Shablam idi Shablam ida
Shot to the soul-the flame of Oroladin
The essence of the word
The 'State Of Independance'
Sounds like a signal from you
Bring me to meet your sound
And I will bring to you my heart
Love like a signal you call
Touching my body my soul
Bring to me, you to meet me here
Home be the temple of your heart
Home be the body of your love
Just like Holy water to my lips
Yes I do know how I survive
(Yes I do know) know why I'm alive
To love and be with you
Day by day by day by day
Say-Aye yaya oh
'Be the sound of higher love' today
Time, time again, it is said
We will hear, we will see
See it all-in his wisdom-hear
His truth will abound the land
This truth will abound the land
This State of independance shall be
This State of independance shall be
song performed by by Donna Summer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Self-pity
when you arrive
home and there
is no one when
they all left for
somewhere and
you do not know
when they are
coming back
you sit on a sofa
you hear no sound
there is no note
no word the celfon
mute and there
is no sound of
any car coming
or at a distance
dust or smoke
moving towards
where you are
silently seated
you then feel it
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Contrasting Sounds Of Sunday Morning
rain is pit pattering
on the roof
the wind is as gentle
as a whisper
of a new lover
when the rain stops
the footfalls pass by
the church bell rings
on a call to prayer
the sound of motorcycles
get louder towards the flea market
the cock crows and
jumps to the ground from a tree
here i am
writing another poem for you
it is the sound of silence again
words hugging like a friend's reunion
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Sound of Silence
I’m walking down the street
and I hear the sculptor in his house
working on his statue of Krishna
and the chisel rings out on the stone
like a bell that wants to tell you something:
the stone saying, I am perfectly made for this;
the chisel saying, I am perfectly made for this;
the sculptor saying, this is prayer;
Krishna saying, I shall enter this.
And I hear in the sound of the chisel on the stone,
as sure as I know my own name,
that the sculptor is listening to all this too.
The bell-like sound lingers in the air
as if the air would keep it for ever
as the air’s prayer. It’s music.
The clearer the sound
of his striking chisel on stone,
the deeper the silence
as if sound and silence between them
know a secret: that sounds like this
can do anything in the world;
even call Krishna with their music
to play at being stone for us.
The stone’s laughing also:
playing at being Krishna.
They’re both laughing.
The sculptor is smiling too.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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State Of Independence
State of life-may I live-may I love
Coming out the sky, I name me a name
Coming out-silver word-what it is
It is the very nature of the sound the game
Siamese, indionese. to tibet treat the life
As a game, if you please
(hey)
Coming up-carabi-this sense of freedom
Derives from a medative state
Movin on, believe thats it, call it magic
Third world, it is, I only guessed it
Shablam idi shablam ida
Shablam idi shablam ida
Shablam idi shablam ida
Shot to the soul-the flame of oroladin
The essence of the word
The state of independence
[interlude]
Sounds like a signal from you
Bring me to meet your sound
And I will bring you to my heart
Love like a signal you call
Touching my body my soul
Bring to me, you to meet me here
Home be the temple of your heart
Home be the body of your love
Just like holy water to my lips
(hey, hey)
Yes I do know how I survive
(yes I do know) know why Im alive
To love and be with you
Day by day by day by day
(hey, hey)
Say-aye yaya oh
(yayah yaya oh)
be the sound of higher love today
(yayah)
(hey, hey)
Time, time again, it is said
We will hear, we will see
See it all-in his wisdom-hear
His truth will abound the land
This truth will abound the land
This state of independence shall be
This state of independence shall be
Time, time again, it is said
We will hear, we will see
See it all-in his wisdom-hear
His truth will abound the land
This truth will abound the land
This state of independence shall be
This state of independence shall be
This state of independence shall be
This state of independence shall be
This state of independence shall be
This state of independence shall be
song performed by by Vangelis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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State Of Independance (feat. J. Anderson)
State of life-may I live-may I love
Coming out the sky, I name me a name
Coming out-silver word-what it is
It is the very nature of the sound the game
Siamese, indionese. to tibet treat the life
As a game, if you please
(hey)
Coming up-carabi-this sense of freedom
Derives from a medative state
Movin on, believe thats it, call it magic
Third world, it is, I only guessed it
Shablam idi shablam ida
Shablam idi shablam ida
Shablam idi shablam ida
Shot to the soul-the flame of oroladin
The essence of the word
The state of independence
[interlude]
Sounds like a signal from you
Bring me to meet your sound
And I will bring you to my heart
Love like a signal you call
Touching my body my soul
Bring to me, you to meet me here
Home be the temple of your heart
Home be the body of your love
Just like holy water to my lips
(hey, hey)
Yes I do know how I survive
(yes I do know) know why Im alive
To love and be with you
Day by day by day by day
(hey, hey)
Say-aye yaya oh
(yayah yaya oh)
be the sound of higher love today
(yayah)
(hey, hey)
Time, time again, it is said
We will hear, we will see
See it all-in his wisdom-hear
His truth will abound the land
This truth will abound the land
This state of independence shall be
This state of independence shall be
Time, time again, it is said
We will hear, we will see
See it all-in his wisdom-hear
His truth will abound the land
This truth will abound the land
This state of independence shall be
This state of independence shall be
This state of independence shall be
This state of independence shall be
This state of independence shall be
This state of independence shall be
song performed by by Vangelis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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And then when I found my sound, it took me two and a half weeks to find my sound and when I did I pulled out all the stops, all the stops I could find.
quote by Jimmy Smith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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