Years ago I had a house in Sussex, it was like Arcadia, with an old Victorian bridge, a pond and the Downs.
quote by Nicolas Roeg
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The South Country
When I am living in the Midlands
That are sodden and unkind,
I light my lamp in the evening:
My work is left behind;
And the great hills of the South Country
Come back into my mind.
The great hills of the South Country
They stand along the sea;
And it's there walking in the high woods
That I could wish to be,
And the men that were boys when I was a boy
Walking along with me.
The men that live in North England
I saw them for a day:
Their hearts are set upon the waste fells,
Their skies are fast and grey;
From their castle-walls a man may see
The mountains far away.
The men that live in West England
They see the Severn strong,
A-rolling on rough water brown
Light aspen leaves along.
They have the secret of the Rocks,
And the oldest kind of song.
But the men that live in the South Country
Are the kindest and most wise,
They get their laughter from the loud surf,
And the faith in their happy eyes
Comes surely from our Sister the Spring
When over the sea she flies;
The violets suddenly bloom at her feet,
She blesses us with surprise.
I never get between the pines
But I smell the Sussex air;
Nor I never come on a belt of sand
But my home is there.
And along the sky the line of the Downs
So noble and so bare.
A lost thing could I never find,
Nor a broken thing mend:
And I fear I shall be all alone
When I get towards the end.
Who will there be to comfort me
Or who will be my friend?
I will gather and carefully make my friends
Of the men of the Sussex Weald;
They watch the stars from silent folds,
They stiffly plough the field.
By them and the God of the South Country
My poor soul shall be healed.
If I ever become a rich man,
Or if ever I grow to be old,
I will build a house with deep thatch
To shelter me from the cold,
And there shall the Sussex songs be sung
And the story of Sussex told.
I will hold my house in the high wood
Within a walk of the sea,
And the men that were boys when I was a boy
Shall sit and drink with me.
poem by Hilaire Belloc
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Ups And Downs
Each life has its ups and downs
and I always figured
my life had more downs than ups.
However, when I stopped to look at it,
I think the reverse may well apply.
There have been more up than downs.
I have a wonderful wife,
which has to be an up.
I have been blessed with three lovely children,
which has to be another up.
I have friends from every four corners of the world.
There is no denying that is an up.
When I tried to look at the downs,
I really couldn’t think of any.
Therefore, at this moment
I am one of the few
real lucky people
who have more ups than downs.
22 March 2008
poem by David Harris
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The Run of the Downs
The Weald is good, the Downs are best---
I'll give you the run of 'em, East to West.
Beachy Head and Winddoor Hill,
They were once and they are still.
Firle Mount Caburn and Mount Harry
Go back as far as sums '1l carry.
Ditchling Beacon and Chanctonbury Ring
They have looked on many a thing,
And what those two have missed between 'em
I reckon Truleigh Hill has seen 'em.
Highden, Bignor and Duncton Down
Knew Old England before the Crown.
Linch Down, Treyford and Sunwood
Knew Old England before the Flood;
And when you end on the Hampshire side--
Butser's old as Time and Tide.
The Downs are sheep, the Weald is corn,
You be glad you are Sussex born!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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I've had 60 years of ups and downs, and all of the downs that I've had, I'm happy that I've had them because it's taught me to appreciate all the ups.
quote by Patti LaBelle
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Walking through the garden of life
Walking through the garden of life
We do experience many ups and downs
Sometimes we see beautiful flowers
Sometimes we are in midst of the prickling thorns
Sometimes we are surrounded by the colorful butterflies
Sometimes we are stung by the angry bee
Walking through the garden of life
We do experience many ups and downs
Sometimes we have to walk over the smooth grass
Sometimes we find a slippery path
Sometimes we have to swim across a long river
Sometimes we find a constructed bridge
Walking through the garden of life
We do experience many ups and downs
We don't know what we might find next
But this suspense makes the journey interesting
And at last when we reach the destination
The entire journey becomes memorable
Yes, walking through the garden of life
We do experience many ups and downs
Kavitha
poem by Kavitha Krishnamurthy
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The Answers Are Too Many To Be Said
i must tell you
about this trip
do not ask about
what's next
look behind us
they already burned the bridge
look over there
the house where we
live
cannot be seen anymore
do not ask where
is next
i am not sad
there are so many reasons
for excitement
you see
we have no more of that past
it is the bridge and the house
we do not need them
you see
we have so many places to go
the mind is our own
companion
creator
and imagination is
infinite
do not ask me
where we are going
the answers are too many
to be said
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Your Bridge Of Love
The bridge,
Your bridge of love;
We salute you oh kings of Africa! !
The bridge,
Your bridge of love;
We salute you oh queens of Africa! !
And like an Island in Venice;
Nice, price, vice, mice, rice, ice, dice, lice, slice;
But very tantalizing and very vital to ylour heart!
For, this bridge of love is over your house.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Water so Deep and Profound
Water so sinuous and devious,
And as mystifying as you.
Water is always hiding its true self,
Never in one form.
Water can be the shimmer,
Reflecting off the light of the pond,
Making the pond seem magnificent.
Water can be the rushing sound,
As it escapes the secretive pond,
And runes down into the vast ocean,
Seeking adventure and unfound dreams.
Water can be the feeling of calmness,
As it sits there, overlooking the pond,
With wonder and seeing how it made it what it is.
Water so supple and wondrous,
The pond is born from the water.
Water so deep and profound,
Just like you,
The pond so incomplete without water,
Just like your family.
poem by Music Galore
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Down At The Bridge
I went down to the (? ? ? ? ? )
Didnt really know what I was going for
Must have been a stroke of destiny
Thats a break (into me)? ?
We met in the frozen food section
It was mrs. swanson love connection
Down at the bridge. down down down at the bridge
Down at the bridge. down down down at the bridge
You can really tell a lot about a man
By if he likes his peaches to eat fresh or canned
Does he like tide or prefer wisk
Ive never go to know a guy as good as this
You ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?
It was love at first sigh, there was no denying
Down at the bridge. down down down at the bridge
Down at the bridge. down down down at the bridge
? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?
Its not real fast, but it goes real far
Like what I say, wouldnt have it any other way way way
I walk slowly towards you down the aisle
I got this future flash and it made me smile
I knew right then I had better leave or forever hold my peace
Put your grocery bag inside my cart
And I knew Id never get ya out of my heart
Down at the bridge. down down down at the bridge
Down at the bridge. down down down at the bridge
Transcribed by adam longfellow
song performed by by Jewel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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From an Outpost
I've tramped South England up and down
Down Dorset way, down Devon way,
Through every little ancient town
Down Dorset way, down Devon way.
I mind the old stone churches there,
The taverns round the market square,
The cobbled streets, the garden flowers,
The sundials telling peaceful hours
Down Dorset way, down Devon way.
The Meadowlands are green and fair
Down Somerset and Sussex way,
The clover scent is in the air
Down Somerset and Sussex way.
I mind the deep-thatched homesteads there
The noble downlands, clean and bare.
The sheepfolds and the cattle byres,
The blue wood-smoke from shepherd's fires
Down Dorset way, down Devon way.
Mayhap I shall not walk again
Down Dorset way, down Devon way,
Nor pick a posy in a lane
Down Somerset and Sussex way.
But though my bones, unshriven, rot
In some far distant alien spot,
what soul I have shall rest from care
To know that meadows still are fair
Down Dorset way, down Devon way.
poem by Leslie Coulson
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Upstairs In My House
No one knows what I can see and and what I see it pleases me on my roof
South pacific hot sea pool, coney island amusement school for mispent youth
Its all in my own front yard, seagulls grazing in the park and foreshore
South-east wind pins back my ears, luna park lights up the years of painless days
I like it, upstairs in my house
Dealers selling junk and trash, people spend their hard earned cash on sundays
Its quiet when they fade away, westgate bridge breakes up the day, into red sky
I like it, upstairs in my house, upstairs in my house
No one knows what I can see and what I see it pleases me on my roof
I like it, upstairs in my house, upstairs in my house
song performed by by Men At Work
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Stronger
I'll make it through the rainy days
I'll be the one who stands here longer than the rest
When my landscape changes
Rearranges
I'll be stronger than I've ever been
No more stillness more sunlight
Everything's gonna be alright
Bridge 1:
I know that there's gonna be a change
Better find your way out of your fear
If you wanna come with me
Then that's the way it's gotta be
CHORUS:
I'm all alone
But finally
I'm getting stronger
You've come to see
Just what I can be
I'm getting stronger
Sometimes I feel so down and out
Like emotion that's been captured in a mess
I had my ups and downs
Trials and tribulations
I overcome it day by day
Feeling good and almost powerful
New me that's what I'm looking for
Bridge 1
CHORUS
Bridge 2:
I didn't know what I had to do
I just knew I was alone
People around me
That they didn't care
So I searched into my soul
I'm not the type of girl
That would let them see
They were right
It's not my style
I'll get by
See I'm gonna do this for me
CHORUS x 2
song performed by by Sugababes from Angels With Dirty Faces
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Travelling Early to Shangshan
In the morning, he starts to move at the journey bell,
He travels, thinking sorrowfully of his home.
A cock crows; a thatched cottage; the moon;
On the planks of the bridge, his footsteps mark the frost.
Mongolian oak leaves fall on the mountain road,
Citron blossom's bright by the post house wall.
Still his thoughts are of his dream of Duling,
The pond full of geese and wild ducks.
poem by Wen Tingjun
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Ballade
By Mystic's banks I held my dream.
(I held my fishing rod as well,)
The vision was of dace and bream,
A fruitless vision, sooth to tell.
But round about the sylvan dell
Were other sweet Arcadian shrines,
Gone now, is all the rural spell,
Arcadia has trolley lines.
Oh, once loved, sluggish, darkling stream,
For me no more, thy waters swell,
Thy music now the engines' scream,
Thy fragrance now the factory's smell;
Too near for me the clanging bell;
A false light in the water shines
While Solitude lists to her knell,--
Arcadia has trolley lines.
Thy wooded lanes with shade and gleam
Where bloomed the fragrant asphodel,
Now bleak commercially teem
With signs 'To Let,' 'To Buy,' 'To Sell.'
And Commerce holds them fierce and fell;
With vulgar sport she now combines
Sweet Nature's piping voice to quell.
Arcadia has trolley lines.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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I May Have Burned a Bridge
It was believed when I left them,
I had burned a bridge.
But from my point of view...
After receiving their undo discouragement,
For years.
A severing of ties,
Led my steps to fresher air.
And a place they were hesitant to share.
I may have burned a bridge!
However,
It is clear to me I am where I want to be!
And not one wish do I have of moving backward,
To join anyone still living in fear and doubt!
If I knew this would be my experience...
I would have burned that bridge a long time ago!
With the same confidence that motivates me now!
I did not need to cross that bridge with anyone in the first place.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Floating Bridge
(by sleepy john estes)
Well I never will forget that floating bridge.
Lord I never will forget that floating bridge.
Lord I never will forget that floating bridge.
They tell me five minutes time underwater I was hid.
I was going down and I throwed up my hands.
As I was going down I throwed up my hands.
As I was going down I throwed up my hands,
Saying, please lord, take me on dry land.
Well they carried me in the house and they laid me cross the bed.
Well they carried me in the house, they laid me cross the bed.
Well they carried me in the house, they laid me cross the bed.
I couldnt hear nothing but muddy water running round my head.
Oh my mother often told me, quit playing a bum.
My mother always told me, quit playing a bum.
Lord, my mother always told me, son, quit playing a bum.
Go out somewhere and make a crumb.
All the people on the bridge was screaming and crying.
Well all the people on the bridge was screaming and crying.
All the people on the bridge stood screaming and crying,
Saying, lord have mercy, whers we gwine?
song performed by by Eric Clapton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To Belloc
For every tiny town or place
God made the stars especially;
Babies look up with owlish face
And see them tangled in a tree;
You saw a moon from Sussex Downs,
A Sussex moon, untravelled still,
I saw a moon that was the town's,
The largest lamp on Campden Hill.
Yea; Heaven is everywhere at home
The big blue cap that always fits,
And so it is (be calm; they come
To goal at last, my wandering wits),
So is it with the heroic thing;
This shall not end for the world's end
And though the sullen engines swing,
Be you not much afraid, my friend.
This did not end by Nelson's urn
Where an immortal England sits--
Nor where your tall young men in turn
Drank death like wine at Austerlitz.
And when the pedants bade us mark
What cold mechanic happenings
Must come; our souls said in the dark,
"Belike; but there are likelier things."
Likelier across these flats afar
These sulky levels smooth and free
The drums shall crash a waltz of war
And Death shall dance with Liberty;
Likelier the barricades shall blare
Slaughter below and smoke above,
And death and hate and hell declare
That men have found a thing to love.
Far from your sunny uplands set
I saw the dream; the streets I trod
The lit straight streets shot out and met
The starry streets that point to God.
This legend of an epic hour
A child I dreamed, and dream it still,
Under the great grey water-tower
That strikes the stars on Campden Hill
poem by G.K. Chesterton
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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To My Daughter
Probably only one memory
Fragile bridge passed the river rapids
The bridge was really glad
when your feet step on
Stand up on top of tweak
Then the longer it confidently
And finally you can run on it
Maybe you're be able to laugh now
But when you were sad
Don't you forget the bridge
Hold -the bridge it was- necessarily
because the bridge, it was me
(2012)
poem by Imam Setiaji Ronoatmojo
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Then years back, when I moved to California, I happened to see a book about fashions of 19th-century Victorian England, only four pages of which was devoted to the dress of the working class.
quote by Martin C. Smith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Workmen
I come down from the heights of my own ego
for a cool drink at Reality Pond
and notice how thirsty I am.
I had been high and dry
for years.
I take off the face I wear
once a year
and dance
because I just don't dance.
I'm rearranging certain of my memories;
to the forgotten bin
others are banished to memory loss;
still others
to my Too Painful Album
to ever look at again.
I keep the good ones.
I've had my share of happy times
and sad ones too;
no real regrets
except around my youngest girl
still finding her way,
There are workmen outside
loading the truck
waiting to take the last of me away.
The house is too big now for one.
I think the neighbors at the condo
are alright.
It will be fine.
But still
you live in your house all your life
it hard to walk away;
so much of you
you leave behind.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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