There is the churning and the boiling of the sea, and the foam on top of it and that is what man is, churning and foam together.
quote by Simone Schwarz-Bart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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That's what I find with any good song, you just have to let it happen. Out of about twenty songs you might write, one of any significance. It might be thirty or forty, but I just keep churning them out and churning them out in hope that one of them will stick.
quote by Mick Ralphs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Wave of the Sea
I am a wave of the sea
And the foam of the wave
And the wind of the foam
And the wings of the wind.
My soul’s in the salt of the sea
In the weight of the wave
In the bubbles of foam
In the ways of the wind.
My gift is the depth of the sea
The strength of the wave
The lightness of foam
The speed of the wind.
poem by by unknown author
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Keepsake Mill
Over the borders, a sin without pardon,
Breaking the branches and crawling below,
Out through the breach in the wall of the garden,
Down by the banks of the river we go.
Here is a mill with the humming of thunder,
Here is the weir with the wonder of foam,
Here is the sluice with the race running under--
Marvellous places, though handy to home!
Sounds of the village grow stiller and stiller,
Stiller the note of the birds on the hill;
Dusty and dim are the eyes of the miller,
Deaf are his ears with the moil of the mill.
Years may go by, and the wheel in the river
Wheel as it wheels for us, children, to-day,
Wheel and keep roaring and foaming for ever
Long after all of the boys are away.
Home for the Indies and home from the ocean,
Heroes and soldiers we all will come home;
Still we shall find the old mill wheel in motion,
Turning and churning that river to foam.
You with the bean that I gave when we quarrelled,
I with your marble of Saturday last,
Honoured and old and all gaily apparelled,
Here we shall meet and remember the past.
poem by Robert Louis Stevenson
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Love Sonnet 24 As kite which only wish for clearest sky,
As kite which only wish for clearest sky,
To soar highest over each cloud which floats,
And so my love, rushing to you would I,
To be the topmost thought your mind promotes;
As foam which drifts, aimless, in churning sea,
And carried off in rising of the tide,
By wayward joys that once prevented me,
I rush back to the shore, towards your side;
The wind which whispers in my ear your name,
Might do well sweeping me, to post somewhere,
And then, to you would also do the same,
And by the kindest luck would lodge us there;
....Any place for tryst serves well, even dreams,
....And better still, if moon there brightly beams.
.
poem by Reyvrex Questor Reyes
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Sensory Mind Foam
etched into my memory
like fossils burned in stone
your face, your smile oh so promisory
your love, not real, illusory
and yet still i moan
inside at the mere thought of touch and kiss
sensory mind foam
this yes i do still miss
churning up through memory's door
the way we osculated
light and playfully
or so passionately
we did articulate
without words to thus restrain
those feelings deep within our mind
not spoken in frame
just continuance, a cruel head game
poem by C.S. Keskuela
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Deep Seas
Deep seas may strike and deliver the praise
Of a monstrous sea, boiling heat has occurred,
Boiling madness has elegantly travelled,
Boiling is the disorder of this monumental wave.
I am deep in thought over the abode in this soup,
The soup of peace and war, a sea so tranquil and hostile,
I would like to stay here forever, to erode the land with it,
Without me and without a mountain to collide with.
Dirty weather arouses suspicion from the waters,
Clean and clear is the river, rivers of ice are cold,
Rivers die and live forming foam from the dear sky,
This sky shall boldly try the patience of the rivers.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Too Long There To Be Forgotten
Can't stop from liking what it is I do,
To push aside and deny...
I am a product of its existence.
I've got it as it is piping hot.
And hard to dropp on the spot,
To be easily forgotten.
All day.
All night,
This feeling kept inside of me yearns.
Burning with a churning that smolders.
All day and all night,
Holding on as a belonging.
I've got it as it is piping hot.
And hard to dropp on the spot,
To be easily forgotten.
All day.
All night,
This feeling kept inside of me yearns.
Burning with a churning that smolders.
Can't stop from liking what it is I do,
To push aside and deny...
I am a product of its existence.
And this craving within me remains to stay!
All day.
All night,
Burning with a churning that smolders.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Ocean Flow
Wave, and wave, and wave and current,
The sea keeps going and turning and churning.
From the currents to the waves, to the waves,
One to another, it flows, it flows.
Eternally spinning, turning, churning,
All men caught up in the undertow.
All men swimming, and swimming, and swimming,
Eternally caught up in the ocean flow.
poem by Celine Koe
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Whatso might happen happens still
Try churning oceans of wisdom,
You may well get nectar of life,
But churning life's venomous strife,
The crown of thorn comes with kingdom.
Ask not the hen on a dunghill
O when the sun would rise,
The sun shall rise to scorching noon,
To fall and fall till midnight's moon,
Till death rises, till dark night dies,
And new dawn as ever does dawn,
Though unsteady, like a newly born fawn,
Whatso might happen happens still.
Notice, dawn dawns not till dusk dies,
The sun must set if it should rise.
_________________________________________
Not a traditional sonnet this, but a sonnet still.
_____________________________________________ _____
- Sonnets | 08.04.11 |
poem by Aniruddha Pathak
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The Sands Of Dee
"O Mary, go and call the cattle home,
And call the cattle home,
And call the cattle home
Across the sands of Dee";
The western wind was wild and dank with foam,
And all alone went she.
The western tide crept up along the sand,
And o'er and o'er the sand,
And round and round the sand,
As far as eye could see.
The rolling mist came down and hid the land:
And never home came she.
"Oh! is it weed, or fish, or floating hair--
A tress of golden hair,
A drownèd maiden's hair
Above the nets at sea?
Was never salmon yet that shone so fair
Among the stakes on Dee."
They rowed her in across the rolling foam,
The cruel crawling foam,
The cruel hungry foam,
To her grave beside the sea:
But still the boatmen hear her call the cattle home
Across the sands of Dee.
poem by Charles Kingsley
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Sound Floats Across Water
Sound floats across water.
Water falls steadily.
Steadily skitters down drains
To drain energy.
Drain away existence.
The slow churning river we call life,
Churning ever on,
On to oblivion.
Oblivious the river flows
Drowns out the human cry.
Relentless in its rush to the sea.
See it empty,
Empty us,
Drown us.
Sink us with a wash of disappointment.
Washing our souls clean.
Washing us away.
Clean off the earth's face.
Faced with oblivion.
Forgotten we forget.
Lose ourselves.
Are lost.
Sound flows across water.
Copyright P H Brookes 2012
poem by Paul Brookes
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It Comes Secondhand
Hills are around for all the mind,
Lull him the scarecrow so he flies,
And whether he loved or hated,
The hills are existing due to bad health
As wealth became boring, and the
Mountains are creeping in to subdue.
Mountains are made of stone, just grey
Foam, the very foam of the sea that has circuits
On us at night or at the shore,
This is where catching thieves of sudden nature
Comes secondhand.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Before That Demon In Me Appears
See my foot?
See how it lifts?
Guess where I can put it,
If you persist.
See my eyes?
And how over one...
I can raise and arch a brow?
See the exposing teeth I show?
Foam can begin to drip from them...
With a growl you just don't know.
My temperature is rising.
And a heat boiling within me...
Is starting to overflow.
Can you feel the steam,
Coming from my ears?
If I were you,
I would take two steps back...
Before that demon in me appears.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Do What You Say
When you have something to say,
Say with conviction, don't waste my day.
Or you have something to do,
Do it right. I'll be happy for you.
If you truly love me,
I am the only one, Not two or three.
When you give your word,
Don't act absurd,
forgetting or churning it into curd.
Just do what you say,
It's a low price to pay.
The Sea-Child
Into the world you sent her, mother,
Fashioned her body of coral and foam,
Combed a wave in her hair's warm smother,
And drove her away from home
In the dark of the night she crept to the town
And under a doorway she laid her down,
The little blue child in the foam-fringed gown.
And never a sister and never a brother
To hear her call, to answer her cry.
Her face shone out from her hair's warm smother
Like a moonkin up in the sky.
She sold her corals; she sold her foam;
Her rainbow heart like a singing shell
Broke in her body: she crept back home.
Peace, go back to the world, my daughter,
Daughter, go back to the darkling land;
There is nothing here but sad sea water,
And a handful of sifting sand.
poem by Katherine Mansfield
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In a Vacant Spin
I feel as if I'm in a vacant spin.
With a churning inside...
Going with a flowing,
My body moves...
To prove,
My mind can be torn.
And I could care less...
The direction it chooses to move in.
A releasing to free me within begins.
I am weeding afflictions of those addictions,
From my head.
I want to rid myself of deceptive satisfactions,
I've been led to believe would keep me fed.
A releasing to free me within begins.
I feel as if I'm in a vacant spin.
With a churning inside...
Going with a flowing,
My body moves...
To prove,
My mind can be torn.
And I could care less...
The direction it chooses to move in.
As long as every inch within me gets cleansed.
A releasing to free me within begins.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The White Birds
I WOULD that we were, my beloved, white birds on the foam of the sea!
We tire of the flame of the meteor, before it can fade and flee;
And the flame of the blue star of twilight, hung low on the rim of the sky,
Has awaked in our hearts, my beloved, a sadness that may not die.
A weariness comes from those dreamers, dew-dabbled, the lily and rose;
Ah, dream not of them, my beloved, the flame of the meteor that goes,
Or the flame of the blue star that lingers hung low in the fall of the dew:
For I would we were changed to white birds on the wandering foam: I and you!
I am haunted by numberless islands, and many a Danaan shore,
Where Time would surely forget us, and Sorrow come near us no more;
Soon far from the rose and the lily and fret of the flames would we be,
Were we only white birds, my beloved, buoyed out on the foam of the sea!
poem by William Butler Yeats
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Steamroller Blues
James Taylor
Well, I'm a steamroller, baby
I'm bound to roll all over you
Yes, I'm a steamroller now, baby
I'm bound to roll all over you
I'm gonna inject your soul with some sweet rock 'n roll
And shoot you full of rhythm and blues
Well, I'm a cement mixer
A churning urn of burning funk
Yes, I'm a cement mixer for you, baby
A churning urn of burning funk
Well, I'm a demolition derby (yeah)
A hefty hunk of steaming junk
Now, I'm a napalm bomb, baby
Just guaranteed to blow your mind
Yeah, I'm a napalm bomb for you, baby
Oh, guaranteed, just guaranteed to blow your mind
And if I can't have your love for my own (now)
Sweet child, won't be nothing left behind
It seems how lately, baby
Got a bad case of steamroller blues
song performed by by James Taylor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Steamroller
Well, i'm a steamroller, baby
I'm bound to roll all over you
Yes, i'm a steamroller now, baby
I'm bound to roll all over you
I'm gonna inject your soul with some sweet rock 'n roll
And shoot you full of rhythm and blues
Well, i'm a cement mixer
A churning urn of burning funk
Yes, i'm a cement mixer for you, baby
A churning urn of burning funk
Well, i'm a demolition derby (yeah)
A hefty hunk of steaming junk
Now, i'm a napalm bomb, baby
Just guaranteed to blow your mind
Yeah, i'm a napalm bomb for you, baby
Oh, guaranteed, just guaranteed to blow your mind
And if i can't have your love for my own (now)
Sweet child, won't be nothing left behind
It seems how lately, baby
Got a bad case steamroller blues
song performed by by James Taylor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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