My singing is part of me, like my stoutness, or my light hair, or my poor eyesight.
quote by Kate Smith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Singing All Day
Singing all day, singing 'bout nothing.
Singing all day, singing 'bout nothing.
Singing all day, singing 'bout nothing,
Oo, my, my, my,
Oo, my, my, my.
Went down to the station to look for her there,
Looked through the crowds for a glimpse of her hair,
Nothing to see but the crowds keep a-staring at me,
My, my,
Oo, my, my, my.
Down in the street, tryn to remember,
Shuffling my feet outside a menswear,
Is that her in the fur coat?
No its not december yet,
My, my, my,
Oo, my, my, my.
Singing all day, singing 'bout nothing.
Back to the house, maybe shell phone me,
Singing my song, feeling so lonely.
Ill sing very softly, so if the phone rings
I can hear it, I can hear it.
Singing all day, singing 'bout nothing.
Singing all day, singing 'bout nothing.
Singing all day, singing 'bout nothing,
Oo, my, my, my,
Oo, my, my, my.
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Sorrows of the Blind
Pity the sorrows of the poor blind,
For they can but little comfort find;
As they walk along the street,
They know not where to put their feet.
They are deprived of that earthly joy
Of seeing either man, woman, or boy;
Sad and lonely through the world they go,
Not knowing a friend from a foe:
Nor the difference betwixt day and night,
For the want of their eyesight;
The blind mother cannot see her darling boy,
That was once her soul's joy.
By day and night,
Since she lost her precious sight;
To her the world seems dark and drear,
And she can find no comfort here.
She once found pleasure in reading books,
But now pale and careworn are her looks.
Since she has lost her eyesight,
Everything seems wrong and nothing right.
The face of nature, with all its beauties and livery green,
Appears to the blind just like a dream.
All things beautiful have vanished from their sight,
Which were once their heart's delight.
The blind father cannot see his beautiful child, nor wife,
That was once the joy of his life;
That he was wont to see at morn and night,
When he had his eyesight.
All comfort has vanished from him now,
And a dejected look hangs on his brow.
Kind Christians all, both great and small,
Pity the sorrows of the blind,
They can but little comfort find;
Therefore we ought to be content with our lot,
And for the eyesight we have got,
And pray to God both day and night
To preserve our eyesight;
To be always willing to help the blind in their distress,
And the Lord will surely bless
And guard us by night and day,
And remember us at the judgment day.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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Birthday Soliloquy
Day of birth, it beckons me, my birthday!
Many, many moons have risen and set
Since this big baby's birth along the way.
I have no qualms, few querulous regrets.
Happy birthday you broken-down poet!
You managed to eke yet another year
Out of your life's allotted installments.
Happy birthday fella! You persevered
Once more. Eyesight poor but you see much more.
I guess they call it wisdom, gained from all
The years. Just hype! Nothing to underscore:
A bit part, few lines and no curtain calls.
The bard once wrote the world is but a stage
I’ll play the part. My role is middle age.
poem by Albert Ahearn
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Light O my Light - Original by Rabindranath Tagore
Light O my Light!
The world is full of Light!
Light has washed my eyesight!
I love the Light!
Light dances near my soul; Light is so cute!
Light makes sound of music in my heart’s lute!
Sky wakes up and wind blows!
Everyone laughs of course!
In the current of Light
Hundreds of butterflies sail themselves!
In the ripples of Light
All the creepers dance in God’s names!
There is gold in the clouds in this morning!
Countless gems are out there O the best King!
Even leaves are laughing!
Music overflowing!
poem by Asif Andalib
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Sir, Say No More
Sir, say no more.
Within me 't is as if
The green and climbing eyesight of a cat
Crawled near my mind's poor birds.
poem by Trumbull Stickney
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A Penny Loafer Saved, A Penny Loafer Earned
Well Brian and me well,
We both agree that,
That penny loafers are absurd,
'Cause I dont know why on earth,
You would take yout two cents worth,
And stick them in your girly shoes,
And Dave replied well after all,
Why not at least use quarters,
So then you can make a phone call,
Its finally time, time for our victory lap,
Assemble the B, just one left turn,
The matchbox tires spin out on the welcome mat,
And the firemen are tired men,
who cant put out the rug burn,
And they say,
Cut your hair short, then walk through an airport,
So that you can dream of destinations
Cut your hair short, then walk through an airport,
Cut your hair short, then walk through an airport,
While all the while you're singing good vibrations,
You're singing good vibrations
You're singing, good, good, good, good, vibrations
You're singing, good, good, good, good, vibrations
You're singing, good, good, good, good, we both agree
You're singing, good, good, good, good, mmm hmm hmm hmm
song performed by by Relient K
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Golden Hair
Lean out your window, golden hair
I heard you singing in the midnight air
My book is closed, I read no more
Watching the fire dance, on the floor
Ive left my book, Ive left my room
For I heard you singing through the gloom
Singing and singing, a merry air
Lean out the window, golden hair...
song performed by by Pink Floyd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Don't Want To Look At It
The dawn confined to the break of words
Please do carry beyond the blue eyes and the ashes of light
Here - go and say it it's time
Though I know the first word will break the lips into pieces
The hair will split the horizons into two halves
Divide the light from darkness again and again
That's what we do with ourselves
Given the freedom of being right and wrong
The mothers of fragile sighs
Will move the deserts one more step
The fathers will slip away
The daughters will spread their arms
The sons will carry the handfuls of their own hearts
Singing sorrow singing sorrow and darkness
They will all say please drink please eat again and again
The breakfast of your life
Eventually nothing will move
Neither the sound nor the breeze
Just a plunge singing the dogs
Just the dogs singing the plunge
Barking madly biting their own tails
Playing a cruel game
Of everybody's pain and terror
Don't want to look at it
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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I'm a singing rainbow
When my eyes are blue
I’m a sky-spelled beam of Heaven
Singing icons of beauty
Brown
I’m an autumn singing
Falls of leaves to the ground
Yellow
I’m millions of suns
Singing rays of warmth
Green
I’m a throbbing rainforest
Singing fibers of creation
Violet
I’m a tiny flower singing
Strength of growth
Rad
I’m a blood-spelled shade of Light
Singing peace of darkness
When my eyes are empty
I’m a singing rainbow
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Poor but rich
Poor but rich in flowers
I lay amongst those stems
In them burning gem's
I hear my singing, child
singing to the croaking, frogs
sweet words-
of jangled, thought!
And time I have to laze
And read a poem,
That leaves me dazed,
In humble, awe!
I'm poor, but rich in flowers…
poem by Mark Heathcote
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Confession
Some folk think I'm dotty
and I have to confess to a point
especially when I'm still yawning
I know that my thinking's not right.
But sometimes life deals me wrong'n
and quick as a flash I'm messed up
my skirt gets tucked into my knickers
and loo papers sticks to my bum.
I went to the hair dressers Friday
and asked her to dye my hair red,
of course I didn't mean bright red
a brownish red's what I meant.
She didn't think two bits about it,
and mixed up the dye in a tick,
it was purplish pink if I'm honest
and now I just look like a twit.
My hearing's not what it might be
My eyesight is very bad too
but now that my hair's dyed bright purple
my street cred's all gone, I tell you.
So I've taken to being a hoody
I reckon I'm looking real cool
they've banned me from my local Tesco's
and told me I should be in school!
poem by Ruth Walters
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Songs For Scarlett
THE SUNLIGHT CAUGHT IN HER VOICE
The darkness
of her hair
& the blue
in her eye
sang of her
& transformed
the world
into a beauty
a child could see
notes like
drops of rain dripping
from a branch
the sunlight caught
in her voice
memory forever
holding still
the song of the blue
in her eye
the song of the darkness
in her hair.
* * * * * * *
AND THE SONG SUNG
And the song
sung to please
had its own
song
that hid
within the song
or ran in &
out among the words
like delighted child
hovering above
or lingering below
the melody line
the song of my mother
singing singing
as if her heart
would break
or break
the heart of others
the song
that sang her
hiding now
at its finish
in the toss of her hair
the tear in her eye.
* * * * * * *
EVEN TIME STOPPED TO LISTEN
In my mind
you will be
always singing
forever held
in the spell
of your voice
even Time
stops to listen
& I
always your child
lost in the magic
of your song
eternally.
* * * * * * *
I awoke at 2.30 in the morning with the image of your mother and the song of her blue eyes and black hair singing in my mind and wrote these 3 poems down as if in a dream and went to sleep again. I awoke to the morning and they were still there. I hope they do her justice. See now how you who have set her singing in your poems…set her singing in my heart now.
poem by Dónall Dempsey
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The Lay of Poor Louise
Ah, poor Louise! the livelong day
She roams from cot to castle gay;
And still her voice and viol say,
Ah, maids, beware the woodland way,
Think on Louise.
Ah, poor Louise! The sun was high,
It smirch'd her cheek, it dimm'd her eye,
The woodland walk was cool and nigh,
Where birds with chiming streamlets vie
To cheer Louise.
Ah, poor Louise! The savage bear
Made ne'er that lovely grove his lair;
The wolves molest not paths so fair-
But better far had such been there
For poor Louise.
Ah, poor Louise! In woody wold
She met a huntsman fair and bold;
His baldric was of silk and gold,
And many a witching tale he told
To poor Louise.
Ah, poor Louise! Small cause to pine
Hadst thou for treasures of the mine;
For peace of mind that gift divine,
And spotless innocence, were thine,
Ah, poor Louise!
Ah, poor Louise! Thy treasure's reft!
I know not if by force or theft,
Or part by violence, part by gift;
But misery is all that's left
To poor Louise.
Let poor Louise some succour have!
She will not long your bounty crave,
Or tire the gay with warning stave-
For Heaven has grace, and earth a grave,
Poor poor Louise.
poem by Sir Walter Scott
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The First Arrival Of Love In My Heart...
of the many people who got out of
the church
that Sunday evening
of 1985
despite the dimming light
of the passing years
my failing eyesight considered
it was only you, just you, and
nothing but you
that i clearly saw....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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German Song.
Music — Krëusser.
'Thou poor blind girl
Why clings't thou thus to me,
Is yonder battle field
A fitting place for thee?
Gentlest of beings fly
Hearest thou not the cannons roar?
Leave me to destiny
Gertrude I can no more!'
'Can the soft gale
Of spring when first it blows,
Or the richest perfume
Of violet or rose,
To thy sad Gertrude yield,
Delight when thou'rt afar?
Shun love the battle field —
Tempt not the war'.
'Gertrude, my latest kiss
Rests on thy forehead fair,
While from the pale, pale cheek
I part thy radiant hair;
Yes! next my heart
I place this shining curl,
For we must part —
Farewell my poor blind girl.'
'Warrior farewell!
Blessings thy steps attend,
I have but prayers to give
To thee my only friend;
Deprived of Heaven's own light
Thy presence was a ray
That made my darkness bright
As summer's gorgeous day.'
poem by Fidelia S T Hill
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Her Dance Of Life
hidden, dancing
life and light
wings shining bright
form so slender
skin once so pale
hair long and dark
this angel waiting in the light, do you not see her
she dances so slowly as in a trance
this poor sad demon of the light
forsaken her heart for those she surrounds
a dance in the light so subtle, so profound
she has taken in many to repair
a wounded heart is so fragle and cracked
but once she is done she must put them back
so many to heal
so little time
do not hate this angel
this demon in the light
poem by Lycasis Cummings
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Into The Bottom Of The Ocean
the sky
has a jewel for you
it is the sun
you like light and you
traded your hands
for wings
by thinking more
your feet turn into fragile
hair
you fly towards the
magnificent light
only to be burned
charred
you fall back to
square one of ash
in the deepest part
of this ocean
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The girl
I see her with eyes
as cobalt blue as the sky,
shining full of light as the sun
her hair is yellow like the winter grass
and the blush of the rising sun
is on her cheek.
I have seen the white of her skin,
while breakers roll in from the sea
walked the path in her hair
through the veldt,
through fields filled with corn.
Have smelt her scent on hillocks
full of flowering sugar-bush,
in valleys with jasmine
and I know her well,
have been since childhood
under her spell.
Every day she is more part of me,
in everything that I do and see
as she is the one
from where all the tribes, the people
in my world comes.
Her name will forever
stay dear to me,
as its part of my history,
even is knotted into the essence of me
and she is my country South Africa.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Poor Song
Poor man
Singing
A good song
with poor voice...
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Of Sonya And Tracy
i am reading your lyrics
and like mifael and candice
i hear the guitar strings of tracy
i see a lover waiting for you
at the crossroad of longing
i can smell the kinkiness of hair
the strong song of a man
agains this dark horizon
singing his soul singing himself
see his soul see his self and
then the music stops and then
sonya you hear the birds singing.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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