If the graves of the thousands of victims who have fallen in the terrible wars of the two races had been placed in line the philanthropist might travel from the Atlantic to the Pacific, and from the Lakes to the Gulf, and be constantly in sight of green mounds.
quote by Nelson A. Miles
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Wherever we go, across the Pacific or Atlantic, we meet, not similarity so much as 'the bizarre'. Things astonish us, when we travel, that surprise nobody else.
quote by Miriam Beard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Canadian Rivers and Lake
We have here a sight as fair
As bonnie Doon or banks of Ayr.
Like modest worth, meandering slow,
The quiet waters gently flow.
Rose, Thistle, Shamrock, all combine
Around the Maple Leaf to twine-
Whose outstretched arms, so gigantic,
Clasps Pacific and Atlantic.
Embracing lakes like burnished gold,
With joy a Shakespeare might behold,
For either poet Barns or Moore *
Such scenery they would adore.
poem by James McIntyre
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Marvellous Travel
I travel with my eyes,
Watching those silently cry,
Asking themselves the question why,
Someone left them without saying goodbye;
I travel with my thoughts,
I travel with my pen;
To write about children, women and men;
I travel with my voice,
I travel with my hope,
That something new, would spring into my horoscope,
Whether in Asia, America or Europe,
There'll always be something interesting to scope;
I travel to many different places,
Mix with many races,
Identify tribesmen by their faces,
And little girls by their laces,
I travel without money,
So, please listen to my testimony,
The good, the bad and even the ugly,
Every experience is worth life's journey,
For I'll always be marvelled,
When ever I travel.
poem by Joshua Fernandez
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Travelerz
I travel with my eyes,
Watching those silently cry,
Asking themselves the question
why,
Someone left them without
saying goodbye;
I travel with my thoughts,
I travel with my pen;
To write about children, women
and men;
I travel with my voice,
I travel with my hope,
That something new, would
spring into my horoscope,
Whether in Asia, America or
Europe,
There'll always be something
interesting to scope;
I travel to many different places,
Mix with many races,
Identify tribesmen by their faces,
And little girls by their laces,
I travel without money,
So, please listen to my testimony,
The good, the bad and even the
ugly,
Every experience is worth life's
journey,
For I'll always be marvelled,
When ever I travel.
poem by Akingbehin Daniel Murphy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What pedophiles and people who have sexual desires on children lose sight of to a terrible, terrible degree - a devastating degree - is that their victims are real people who will suffer forever whatever abuses are perpetrated on them.
quote by Jock Sturges
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Road I Travel
The road I travel is windy and unsafe
Filled with road blocks and things to slow me down
Constantly seeing a stop sign
One day the signal will turn green and I will push my foot on the gas
For now my safest way to travel is on the highway
Very little stops
Only a straight path to keep going
There is room to be both slow and causious and fast and furious
Depending on the day and what obstacle I face will dictate my speed and my destiny
As I travel the highway I see nothing but black top
It is just me and nothing but road to travel
Needing to realize that there are so many paths to choose
I am my own destination
But for now the road I travel on is windy and unsafe and filled with road blocks
poem by Anne Jones
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hard Road
(h. vanda / g. young)
My mama n papa told me son that youre just a fool
When I told em I was leaving home I was leaving school
So then in a couple of hours I found myself
Heading down that southbound road
With everything I owned on my back
I carried such a heavy load
And its a hard, hard road that I travel
Its a hard, hard road that I travel
Its a hard, hard road that I travel down the line
And its a hard, hard road down the line
Well I wanna tell ya friends
That its good to be a traveling man
cause Im doing what I want to
Living just the best that I can
Nobody putting rings around my neck
To put me in a pigeon hole
Ive got my dog and my radio
To listen to some rock n roll
And its a hard, hard road that I travel
Its a hard, hard road that I travel
Its a hard, hard road that I travel down the line
And its a hard, hard road down the line
song performed by by Rod Stewart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Own Shall Come to Me
I come, I come! ye have called me long;
I come o'er the mountains, with light and song.
Ye may trace my step o'er the waking earth
By the winds which tell of the violet's birth,
By the primrose stars in the shadowy grass,
By the green leaves opening as I pass.
I have breathed on the South, and the chestnut-flowers
By thousands have burst from the forest bowers,
And the ancient graves and the fallen fanes
Are veiled with wreaths on Italian plains;
But it is not for me, in my hour of bloom,
To speak of the ruin or the tomb!
I have looked o'er the hills of the stormy North,
And the larch has hung all his tassels forth;
The fisher is out on the sunny sea,
And the reindeer bounds o'er the pastures free,
And the pine has a fringe of softer green,
And the moss looks bright, where my step has been.
I have sent through the wood-paths a glowing sigh,
And called out each voice of the deep blue sky,
From the night-bird's lay through the starry time,
In the groves of the soft Hesperian clime,
To the swan's wild note by the Iceland lakes,
When the dark fir-branch into verdure breaks.
From the streams and founts I have loosed the chain;
They are sweeping on to the silvery main,
They are flashing down from the mountain brows,
They are flinging spray o'er the forest boughs,
They are bursting fresh from their sparry caves,
And the earth resounds with the joy of waves.
poem by John Burroughs
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Ideals, Dreams and Wishes to Fulfill
If you are one seeking depth,
To satisfy an insatiable appetite...
That quiets a quest and delights your curiosity?
The Atlantic Ocean is on the East Coast.
And the Pacific is on the West.
Whichever one you select...
Depth will be there for you to be pleased.
Absorb as much of it as you want.
Take all the time you need.
Allowing you to create your own definition,
Without any interference...
You perceive I may possess secretly.
With a hope eventually,
A quenching done has for you manifested.
To leave your feasting upon this belief.
You've chosen to keep your attention fixed,
And teased.
Giving me too much credit...
For thoughts I have no ability to conceive.
Although some things revealed and presented,
Just aren't meant to be that analytical...
From surfaces on which they are seen!
But don't hold back on that flattery!
You can pour some more on me.
However...
I know this is going to be difficult.
But 'please' keep this to yourself.
Pretensions are not my 'thing'.
And they bore when I detect them,
From someone else.
Ssssshhh...
Keep that to yourself!
I do understand your desire to dissect.
But losing sleep over it,
Is not what I recommend.
Nor do I suggest.
And yet you will make you own investigation...
Only to admit it in the quietness of your space.
What you uncovered was simple and direct.
With no depth involved for you to 'get'.
And you found me genuine and not faking.
Since depthness and I have yet met!
If you are one seeking depth,
To satisfy an insatiable appetite...
That quiets a quest and delights your curiosity?
The Atlantic Ocean is on the East Coast.
And the Pacific is on the West.
In between there are canyons, streams...
Adorned with rivers, lakes, mountains and valleys.
All I offer,
Are ideals, dreams and wishes to fulfill.
And not having the time to do all those things envisioned...
Is what I most regret.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Voice Of Spring
I come, I come! ye have called me long;
I come o'er the mountains, with light and song.
Ye may trace my step o'er the waking earth
By the winds which tell of the violet's birth,
By the primrose stars in the shadowy grass,
By the green leaves opening as I pass.
I have breathed on the South, and the chestnut-flowers
By thousands have burst from the forest bowers,
And the ancient graves and the fallen fanes
Are veiled with wreaths on Italian plains;
But it is not for me, in my hour of bloom,
To speak of the ruin or the tomb!
I have looked o'er the hills of the stormy North,
And the larch has hung all his tassels forth;
The fisher is out on the sunny sea,
And the reindeer bounds o'er the pastures free,
And the pine has a fringe of softer green,
And the moss looks bright, where my step has been.
I have sent through the wood-paths a glowing sigh,
And called out each voice of the deep blue sky,
From the night-bird's lay through the starry time,
In the groves of the soft Hesperian clime,
To the swan's wild note by the Iceland lakes,
When the dark fir-branch into verdure breaks.
From the streams and founts I have loosed the chain;
They are sweeping on to the silvery main,
They are flashing down from the mountain brows,
They are flinging spray o'er the forest boughs,
They are bursting fresh from their sparry caves,
And the earth resounds with the joy of waves.
poem by Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Air France Plane Crash Mystery!
Air France plane crashed into Atlantic Ocean
Flying from Brazil to France near an island!
From the Southern to the Northern hemisphere
It was a risky air travel for many on the ocean.
Even advanced operating systems can’t cope with
The sudden lightning and thunder storm in the sky!
Nature seems cannot be vanquished by Science at all!
Technological advancement is nothing before Nature.
Missing plane was a mystery both for France and Brazil!
Lightning falling on the electrical system exploded plane;
It was believed and reported in both the countries first.
But what actually happened nobody will know forever!
4200m the Atlantic Ocean has depth there it was found;
Going so deep and searching plane and other matters
Seems to be very difficult and impossible venture still!
So, this misfortune leads to think about other mysteries.
Planes and ships vanishing near the Caribbean islands
Some years ago without any clue became a big puzzle!
No traces of such happenings were unearthed so far and
That famous Bermuda Triangle mystery still continues!
Not only in Atlantic Ocean but also in Pacific Ocean area
In a spot called Devil Cave the danger of such like things
Also have been noted by the observers of ocean mysteries
Making South China Sea famous for that in the mystery list!
poem by Ramesh T A
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Honesty
Thousands of thousands people
Among the thousands of rows
Waiting for the entry to the show
Of blitz, glamour and corruption.
The first rows are for the VIPs
The middle ones are for the sycophants
As I am neither of them
So my row is the last one.
Front line is for the hypocrites
Middle ones are for the touts
As I am neither of them
So my line is at the end.
I am feeling lonely
And my row is empty
Could you please for few minutes stand with me?
So that I can show you the real delight
Of life in the path of honesty..
poem by Abdul Wahab
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The old charters of Massachusetts, Virginia, and the Carolinas had given title to strips of territory extending from the Atlantic westward to the Pacific.
quote by Albert Bushnell Hart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It is impossible to exaggerate the wide, and widening, gulf between the American attitude on the Iraq war and the view from our friends across the Atlantic.
quote by Nick Clooney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Eye
The Atlantic is a stormy moat; and the Mediterranean,
The blue pool in the old garden,
More than five thousand years has drunk sacrifice
Of ships and blood, and shines in the sun; but here the Pacific--
Our ships, planes, wars are perfectly irrelevant.
Neither our present blood-feud with the brave dwarfs
Nor any future world-quarrel of westering
And eastering man, the bloody migrations, greed of power, clash of
faiths--
Is a speck of dust on the great scale-pan.
Here from this mountain shore, headland beyond stormy headland
plunging like dolphins through the blue sea-smoke
Into pale sea--look west at the hill of water: it is half the
planet:
this dome, this half-globe, this bulging
Eyeball of water, arched over to Asia,
Australia and white Antartica: those are the eyelids that never
close;
this is the staring unsleeping
Eye of the earth; and what it watches is not our wars.
poem by Robinson Jeffers
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Bullets and Poppies
Bullets were flying
and soldiers were dying
as crimson poppies
swayed in the breeze,
beyond the trenches
beyond the green leas
in the fourteen-eighteen war
'the war to end all wars'
but these words sadly
failed to please.
The poppy's the emblem
and sorrowful hearts in sympathy
wander back to Flanders Fields
where thousands of comrades
were shamefully killed.
Golden the archives,
with names of the heroes...
and the poppy still sways
in the breeze, because
wars will never cease.
poem by Joyce Hemsley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Victims
Who are those that stand by the pillars
Of stop signs or in front of liquor stores?
Are they the forgotten heroes who were once
Served and sent to wars for this country?
Or, are they the victims of social users incense
Of illegal drugs, alcohol, or sex for money?
Who are they?
Are they the victims of our country's economy,
Who lost their jobs outsourced by their company?
Or, are they the victims of love losing their sanity
By rape, battery, or purely the victims of poverty?
Who are they?
That I can no longer pull change from my coin tray;
That I can no longer look at them with eye to eye;
That I can no longer put faith or minute of honesty;
For I was also their victim of their luscious trickery.
poem by Efren Petalver Carranza
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Victims Of The Past
Shallow graves
of the victims
of the past
Haunt their tormentors
to the last
There's no escape
from the victims
of the past
Their coming for you
as you catch
your last breath
So tormentors beware
Just because
your victim is dead
It does not mean
they do not see
poem by Dave Alan Walker
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But I really am very active in the choice of the line producer with the producer of record and the distributing company, because I've had some terrible, terrible experiences with some line producers, particularly in cable.
quote by John Frankenheimer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Transatlantic Westbound Jet
(elliott / sylvester)
Spread your wings, Im all set
Trans atlantic westbound jet
Heading out to jfk
Ill play my guitar along the way
Its the only thing I can do
Stick with me and well see it through
Make the most, without delay
Im gone tomorrow but here today
Travel through the nation
In need of stimulation, oh yeah
Travel through the nation
In search of situations, yeah
Boogaloo well walk on through
My prescriptions good for you
Be my guest and fly with me
Its a way of life, a high for free
Travel through the nation
In need of stimulation, oh yeah
Travel through the nation
In search of situations, yeah
song performed by by Hollies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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