Whither goest thou, America, in thy shiny car in the night?
quote by Jack Kerouac
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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America
(Francis Scott Key)
Oh, say, can you see
By the dawn's early light
What so proudly we hailed
At the twilight's last gleaming
Whose broad stripes and bright stars
Through the perilous fight
O'er the ramparts we watched were so
Gallantly streaming?
America, America, America
America, America, America
And the rocket's red glare
The bombs bursting in air
Gave proof through the night
That our flag was still there
Oh, say, does that star
Spangled banner yet wave
Over the land of the free
And the home of the brave!
America, America, America
America, America, America
America, America, America
America, America, America
America, America, America
America, America
ooohhh
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ch 02 The Morals Of Dervishes Story 12
One night I had in the desert of Mekkah become so weak from want of sleep that I was unable to walk and, laying myself down, told the camel driver to let me alone.
How far can the foot of a wretched pedestrian go
When a dromedary gets distressed by its load?
Whilst the body of a fat man becomes lean
A weak man will be dead of exhaustion.
He replied: ‘O brother, the sanctuary is in front of us and brigands in the rear. If thou goest thou wilt prosper. If thou sleepest thou wilt die.’
It is pleasant to sleep under an acacia on the desert road
But alas! thou must bid farewell to life on the night of departure.
Tell me with whom thou goest, and I'll tell thee what thou doest.
To The River Yvette. (Birds Of Passage. Flight The Fifth)
O lovely river of Yvette!
O darling river! like a bride,
Some dimpled, bashful, fair Lisette,
Thou goest to wed the Orge's tide.
Maincourt, and lordly Dampierre,
See and salute thee on thy way,
And, with a blessing and a prayer,
Ring the sweet bells of St. Forget.
The valley of Chevreuse in vain
Would hold thee in its fond embrace;
Thou glidest from its arms again
And hurriest on with swifter pace.
Thou wilt not stay; with restless feet,
Pursuing still thine onward flight,
Thou goest as one in haste to meet
Her sole desire, her heart's delight.
O lovely river of Yvette!
O darling stream! on balanced wings
The wood-birds sang the chansonnette
That here a wandering poet sings.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Be strong and of good courage be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed for the Lord thy God is with thee whithersoever thou goest.
Whither goest the Saints of Art?
Whither goest the lovely Saints -
The Saints that love art and paints?
Whither goest the Saints of Art -
The Saints who set free my heart?
Where did he go - St Haiku?
Did he go hiking or haikuing?
Where is Saint ABC,
He who likes to sail in the sea?
Whither goest St Free Verse,
That one of a heavy purse?
Whither goest Saint Ballad,
son of Sir Brian McSalad?
Where is that ever-loyal
Saint called Rhyme Royal?
Where is St Rhythm and others
who like to give draconian orders?
Where is that one who likes to keep lime
in his storeroom everytime?
Tell him I committed a crime:
I killed Mr Scheme Rhyme! ...
poem by Comfort Ndlovu
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The Sun's Last Ray
Upon the blue mountain I stood,
Upon the mountain as he sank into the Rivers of Night:
The camps of the clouds in the heavens were shining with evening fires, many-colored,
And the pools on the plain below gleamed with many reflections:
All things were made precious with the Day's last ray.
Farewell, my Father, the Shining One!
Farewell, whither thou goest,
Like an aged chieftain adorned with the splendors of many deeds!
Thou dost touch the world with many reflections,
With parting injunctions many -
Thy thought thou hast given us.
poem by Anonymous Americas
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The Sun's Last Rays
Upon the blue mountain I stood,
Upon the mountain as he sank into the Rivers of Night:
The camps of the clouds in the heavens were shining with evening fires, many-colored,
And the pools on the plain below gleamed with many reflections:
All things were made precious with the Day's last ray.
Farewell, my Father, the Shining One!
Farewell, whither thou goest,
Like an aged chieftain adorned with the splendors of many deeds!
Thou dost touch the world with many reflections,
With parting injunctions many -
Thy thought thou hast given us.
poem by Hartley Burr Alexander
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Prayer At Night
Lord, for the one who dies alone
This night without companion,
I cannot rest, I cannot sleep.
O shepherd of the piteous sheep
Run with Thy crook, and lift in haste
The poor head to Thy loving breast.
Oh slake his deadly thirst from streams
Of Paradise, and give him dreams
Of the mild weather, the green sward.
Bind up his bitter wounds, O Lord,
And give him comfort. Let him know
His Shepherd 'tis that loves him so.
Thou countest Thy flock: not one is lost
But Thou goest seeking, for Thou knowest
The poor things creep away to die
Where none shall find save Thou art nigh.
Thou tak'st them to Thy arms, Thy knees,
And Thy sick lambs have sweetest ease.
Now I shall close my eyes in sleep,
Nor fret since they are Thine to keep,
Oh, happy sheep, to have such care,
The poorest, Love's own prisoner,
Who comforts as his mother might,
Rocking him into sleep at night.
poem by Katharine Tynan
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Whither goest thou, Misfortune? To where there is more.
Whither goest thou, sorrow? Whither I am used to go.
America
Last night I heard America cry and it was the sound
Of women birthing chi ldren into a soci ety that is
Filled with despai r and their tears fell from
Heaven like rain and flooded everywhere
Last night I heard America cry and I felt it down
In my soul because millions of people are dying
while AIDS is out of control
Last night I heard America cry and it was on the
Nightl y news they talked about missing children
Some murder ed and some abused
Last night I heard America cry because her sol diers are
Dying each day and families are losing love ones
To a war that doesn 't pay
These are the reason s why we must come together
And help wipe the tears from America's eyes
Because if we don't take the time to help her she will
Drown in her own demise
Last night I heard America cry
poem by Mike Santiago
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The Vigil-at-Arms
Keep holy watch with silence, prayer, and fasting
Till morning break, and all the bugles play;
Unto the One aware from everlasting
Dear are the winners: thou art more than they.
Forth from this peace on manhood's way thou goest,
Flushed with resolve, and radiant in mail;
Blessing supreme for men unborn thou sowest,
O knight elect! O soul ordained to fail!
poem by Louise Imogen Guiney
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Psalm 139
O Lord in me there lieth nought
But to thy search revealed lies;
For when I sit
Thou markest it:
Nor less thou notest when I rise:
Yea, closest closet of my thought
Hath open windows to thine eyes.
Thou walkest with me when I walk;
When to my bed for rest I go,
I find thee there,
And everywhere,
Not youngest thought in me doth grow,
No, not one word I cast to talk
But, yet unuttered, thou dost know.
If forth I march, thou goest before;
If back I turn, thou com'st behind;
So forth nor back
Thy guard I lack;
Nay, on me too thy hand I find.
Well I thy wisdom may adore,
But never reach with earthly mind.
To shun thy notice, leave thine eye,
O whither might I take my way?
To starry sphere?
Thy throne is there:
To dead men's undelightsome stay?
There is thy walk, and there to lie
Unknown, in vain should I assay.
O sun, whom light nor flight can match!
Suppose thy lightful flightful wings
Thou lend to me,
And I could flee
As far as thee the evening brings:
Even led to west he would me catch
Nor should I lurk with western things.
Do thou thy best, O secret night!
In sable veil to cover me:
Thy sable veil
Shall vainly fail:
With day unmasked my night shall be,
For night is day, and darkness light,
O Father of all lights, to thee.
poem by Philip Sidney
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Atomic Insanity Bomb
America, we're drained of enthusiasm for you
America, why this meaningless war?
America, you are no longer beautiful
America, when will you see the light?
When will you call peace and dance and sing
When will you look in the mirror
and see the menace you have become?
When will you read the philosophies of God
that say Thou Shalt Not Kill?
America, when will you open your eyes?
America, why do you dye the shores red?
Why are the guns loaded with skulls?
Why do you leave your brothers behind
To charge bull-like at a cloth too large for you?
America, why are you putting a gun to your head?
America, stop killing me I'm not
Innocent, not Guilty
AMERICA STOP PUSHING!
America don't liberate me I'm already independent.
America I refuse to give up my rights
I refuse to give up others' rights
America don't reject your own
America the HATE is growing
They're rising up growing
America, let the prisoners go
The scholars of war in peace in hate in freedom
The Ginsbergs and Kerouacs and Dickesons and Whitmans
Of generations past
Free the ones whose philosophies peace it together
America your war is at home
America what is your motto?
Mission is not accomplished
It has just started.
America you have life to give,
not take away.
America, you deserve this war
America, my love for you is gone
America, monster, stop your screaming slashing rage
Look into your past
America LEARN from your mistakes
America, make it continue
AMERICA MAKE IT STOP
poem by Lex Newman
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America
My daddy told me about the old glory days
But I made up my mind about Daddy's ways
We followed King to Atlanta and got the slaves all free
And the ladies come out from behind the fans of gentry
America
America
How you've broken free
America
America
Was your destiny
I was at Daddy's bedside the night that he went
He whispered real sad "the south won't rise again"
They've all gone to Chicago to lose the slow accent
Leaving me behind wondering where we went
America
America
Are you losing your mind
America
America
Don't leave me behind
song performed by by Heart from Private Audition
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Know most of the rooms of thy native country before thou goest over the threshold thereof.
quote by Thomas Fuller
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The Page And The Miller's Daughter
PAGE.
WHERE goest thou? Where?
Miller's daughter so fair!
Thy name, pray?--
MILLER'S DAUGHTER.
'Tis Lizzy.
PAGE.
Where goest thou? Where?
With the rake in thy hand?
MILLER'S DAUGHTER.
Father's meadows and land
To visit, I'm busy.
PAGE.
Dost go there alone?
MILLER'S DAUGHTER.
By this rake, sir, 'tis shown
That we're making the hay;
And the pears ripen fast
In the garden at last,
So I'll pick them to-day.
PAGE.
Is't a silent thicket I yonder view?
MILLER'S DAUGHTER.
Oh, yes! there are two;
There's one on each side.
PAGE.
I'll follow thee soon;
When the sun burns at noon
We'll go there, o'urselves from his rays to hide,
And then in some glade all-verdant and deep--
MILLER'S DAUGHTER.
Why, people would say--
PAGE.
Within mine arms thou gently wilt sleep.
MILLER'S DAUGHTER.
Your pardon, I pray!
Whoever is kiss'd by the miller-maid,
Upon the spot must needs be betray'd.
'Twould give me distress
To cover with white
Your pretty dark dress.
Equal with equal! then all is right!
That's the motto in which I delight.
I am in love with the miller-boy;
He wears nothing that I could destroy.
poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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Spirit Of America
Spirit of america
Spirit of america
Spirit of america
The bonneville salt flats had seen some strange things
But the strangest thing yet was a jet without wings
Once as a jet it played in the stars
But now on the ground its the king of our cars
Spirit of america
Spirit of america
Spirit of america
Spirit of america
An airplane an auto now famous worldwide
The spirit of america, the name on the side
The man who would drive her craig breedlove by name
A daring young man played a dangerous game
Spirit of america
Spirit of america
Spirit of america
Spirit of america
With a j-47, a jet for his power
Craig breedlove had averaged four-o-seven per hour
Both man and machine had given fair warn
Theyd set a new record on that warm august morn.
Spirit of america
Spirit of america
Spirit of america
Spirit of america
Spirit of america
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Question
I.
SOUL, spirit, genius--which thou art--that whence
I know not, rose upon this mortal frame
Like the sun o'er the mountains, all aflame,
Seen large through mists of childish innocence,
And year by year with me uptravelling thence,
As hour by hour the day-star, madest aspire
My nature, interpenetrate with fire
It felt but understood not--strong, intense,
Wisdom with folly mixed, and gold with clay;--
Soul, thou hast journeyed with me all this way.
Oft hidden and o'erclouded, oft arrayed
In scorching splendors that my earth-life burned,
Yet ever unto thee my true life turned,
For, dim, or clear, 't was thou my daylight made.
II.
SOUL, dwelling oft in God's infinitude,
And sometimes seeming no more part of me--
This me, worms' heritage--than that sun can be
Part of the earth he has with warmth imbued,--
Whence camest thou? whither goest thou? I, subdued
With awe of mine own being--thus sit still,
Dumb, on the summit of this lonely hill,
Whose dry November-grasses dew-bestrewed
Mirror a million suns--That sun, so bright,
Passes, as thou must pass, Soul, into night:
Art thou afraid, who solitary hast trod
A path I know not, from a source to a bourne,
Both which I know not? fear'st thou to return
Alone, even as thou camest, alone, to God?
poem by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
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