'Tis the voice of the sluggard; I heard him complain, you have waked me too soon, I must slumber again.
quote by Isaac Watts
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I heard a cry in the night,
A thousand miles it came,
Sharp as a flash of light,
My name, my name!
It was your voice I heard,
You waked and loved me so --
I send you back this word,
I know, I know!
poem by Sara Teasdale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In the Middle of a Crowd
Today I was in the middle of a crowd and that when I heard her. Her sweet voice filtered out all the cell phones with the different ringtones. All the voices of the people from a businessman making a million dollar deal to a toddler having a tantrum because his mom won't buy him a juice-box. Her voice even may the barking dogs bark mute and the birds chirping song silent and her voice was the only one my ears heard. In the middle of a crowd is where I wrote this poem because the lady's voice I heard was poetry.
Her love
Who waked up the morning shine?
Who waked up?
the love in my heart
soared the feeling of my soul
Oh; the glow of her smile
The glance of her smart
so gentle and tender her smooth
Skin, the golden shining face
of her, and the darkness hair of her
Her lips's callingness love
called life in me
Oh her dress which dressing her
is beauty her dress?
I can't define
if the beauty her or her dress
She waked up in me
the morning rays
whispering the love in me
poem by Sallam Yassin
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On A Plain (Live) (10 Jan 92 Soundcheck, MTV Studios, NYC)
Nirvana- On A Plain
I'll start this off without any words
I got so high that I scratched 'til I bled
I love myself better than you
I know it's wrong so what should I do?
The finest day that I ever had
Was when I learned to cry on command
I love myself better than you
I know it's wrong so what should I do?
I'm on a plain
I can't complain
I'm on a plain
My brother died every night
It's safe to say don't quote me on that
I love myself better than you
I know it's wrong so what should I do?
The black sheep got blackmailed again
Forgot to put on the zip code
I love myself better than you
I know it's wrong so what should I do?
I'm on a plain
I can't complain
I'm on a plain
Somewhere I have heard this before
In a dream my memory has stored
As a defense I'm neutered and spayed
What the hell am I trying to say
It is now time to make it unclear
To write off lines that don't make sense
I love myself better than you
I know it's wrong so what should I do?
One more special message to go
And then I'm done then I can go home
I love myself better than you
I know it's wrong so what should I do?
I'm on a plain
I can't complain
I'm on a plain
I can't complain
I'm on a plain
song performed by by Nirvana
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Sister's Lullaby
You would not slumber
If laid at my breast:
You would not slumber.
The river-flood beats
The swan from her nest:
You would not slumber.
And like that quick flood
My blood goes unguessed:
You would not slumber.
Times without number
Has called the wood quest:
Times without number.
As oft as she called
To me you were pressed:
Times without number.
Now you'd not slumber
If laid at my breast
Times without number.
O starling reed-resting,
I’ll rock you to rest:
So you will slumber.
poem by Padraic Colum
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Pretty Good
I got a friend in fremont, he sells used cars, ya know.
Well, he calls me up twice a year
Just ask me howd it go
Pretty good, not bad, I cant complain
Actually everything is just about the same
I met a girl from venus, and her insides were lined in gold
Well, she did what she did said how was it, kid?
She was politely told
Pretty good, not bad, I cant complain
But actually everything is just about the same.
Moonlight makes me dizzy
Sunlight makes me clean
Your light is the sweetest thing
That this boy has ever seen.
Molly went to arkansas, she got raped by dobbins dog
Well, she was doing good till she went in the woods
And got pinned up against a log
Pretty good, not bad, she cant complain
Cause actually all them dogs is just about the same
Moonlight makes me dizzy
Sunlight makes me clean
Your light is the sweetest thing
That this boy has ever seen.
Instrumental:
I heard allah and buddha were singing at the saviors feast
And up the sky and arabian rabbi
Fed quaker oats to a priest.
Pretty good, not bad, they cant complain
Cause actually all them gods is just about the same
Pretty good, not bad, I cant complain
Cause actually everything is just about the same
song performed by by John Prine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ludicrous Lingo
I asked a waiter for some food
And can't complain that he was rude,
'NO PROBLEM, sir! ' was what he said
(I wished the little blighter dead! ! !)
I just can't stand that sort of talk,
So I fiddled with my knife and fork.
Then when it arrived the foolish boy
Came out with 'There you are, ENJOY! '
(I suppose I really shouldn't complain
But this use of words drives me insane! ! !)
I left a tip and heard him say
'Goodbye now, have an AWESOME day! '
poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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The Voice
One feather is a bird,
I claim; one tree, a wood;
In her low voice I heard
More than a mortal should;
And so I stood apart,
Hidden in my own heart.
And yet I roamed out where
Those notes went, like the bird,
Whose thin song hung in air,
Diminished, yet still heard:
I lived with open sound,
Aloft, and on the ground.
That ghost was my own choice,
The shy cerulean bird;
It sang with her true voice,
And it was I who heard
A slight voice reply;
I heard; and only I.
Desire exults the ear:
Bird, girl, and ghostly tree,
The earth, the solid air--
Their slow song sang in me;
The long noon pulsed away,
Like any summer day.
poem by Theodore Roethke
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A farewell to Ole Bull
There was a fountain in my heart
Whose deeps had not been stirred;
A thirst for music in my soul
My ear had never heard; --
A feeling of the incomplete
To all bright things allied;
A sense of something beautiful,
Unfilled, unsatisfied.
But, waked beneath thy master-hand,
Those trembling chords have given
A foretaste of that deep, full life
That I shall know in Heaven.
In that resistless spell, for once,
The vulture of Unrest,
That whets its beak upon my heart,
Lies, charmed, within my breast.
Pale Memory and flushed Hope forget;
Ambition sinks to sleep;
And o'er my spirit falls a bliss
So perfect that I weep.
Oh, Stranger! though thy Farewell notes
Now on the breeze may sigh,
Yet, treasured in our thrilling hearts,
Their echo shall not die.
Thou'st brought us from thy Northern home
Old Norway's forest tones,
Wild melodies from ancient lands,
Of palaces and thrones.
Take back the "Prairie's Solitude,"
The voice of that dry sea,
Whose billowy breast is dyed with flowers,
Made audible by thee.
Take back with thee what ne'er before
To Music's voice was given,
The anthem that "Niagara" chaunts
Unceasingly to Heaven; --
The spirit of a People waked
By Freedom's battle cry;
The "Memory of their Washington,"
Their song of victory.
Take back with thee a loftier Fame,
A prouder niche in Art,
Fresh laurels from our virgin soil,
And -- take a Nation's heart!
poem by Anne Lynch Botta from Poems (1848)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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To Erinna
Was Time not harsh to you, or was he kind,
O pale Erinna of the perfect lyre,
That he has left no word of singing fire
Whereby you waked the dreaming Lesbian wind,
And kindled night along the lyric shore?
O girl whose lips Erato stooped to kiss,
Do you go sorrowing because of this
In fields where poets sing forevermore?
Or are you glad and is it best to be
A silent music men have never heard,
A dream in all our souls that we may say:
"Her voice had all the rapture of the sea,
And all the clear cool quiver of a bird
Deep in a forest at the break of day"?
poem by Sara Teasdale
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Jump!
He heard the planets being born,
he heard the dinosaur's first roar
he heard the voice of Hebrew slaves
plummeting to earth that day.
He thought he heard the voice of God
the devil too and all his souls,
he thought he heard the angels sing
within white clouds, enchantingly.
And there above the planet, blue,
his heart beat out a merry tune
but none did hear it beat so swift
or heard his gasping, breathlessness.
‘Twas faster than the speed of sound
he catapulted to the ground
per chance to land upon his feet,
his own demise he aimed to cheat.
Then standing on the earths hard crust
he brushed aside his tousled fringe
as though he'd been out for a jog
all cavalier and nonchalant.
poem by Ruth Walters
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No Voice
There are times when we feel
we have no voice
we are suffocated by circumstances.
Our voice is lost in the void;
we wander with eyes open
and no mouth for things to say.
Those around us are oblivious
that our presence is near.
We are invisible
with only our ears to hear.
We have no voice to shout our protests clear,
no voice to vent our anger at what we can hear.
Our voice is silenced by circumstances
some of which we do not understand.
We have no voice today or tomorrow,
and even if we had a voice
would it be heard?
Would our words fall
on vacant and deaf ears?
The question remain unanswered
for around us silence reins.
Silent as our protests
and frustration is all we gain.
One day our gag maybe lifted,
but will it be too late.
There maybe no one around us
and our anger will be lost,
lost in the silence when no one is there.
We can only hope that one day
when the silence clears
our voice among the millions
will finally be heard.
15 September 2009
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Morning Watch
'Tis near the morning watch, the dim lamp burns
But scarcely shows how dark the slumbering street;
No sound of life the silent mart returns;
No friends from house to house their neighbors greet;
It is the sleep of death; a deeper sleep
Than e'er before on mortal eyelids fell;
No stars above the gloom their places keep;
No faithful watchmen of the morning tell;
Yet still they slumber on, though rising day
Hath through their windows poured the awakening light;
Or, turning in their sluggard trances, say—
'There yet are many hours to fill the night;'
They rise not yet; while on the bridegroom goes
'Till he the day's bright gates forever on them close!
poem by Jones Very
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Psalm 29
The voice of the Lord
Makes the deer give birth
His voice fells mighty trees
The voice of the Lord is powerful
His voice reaches over the seas
The voice of the Lord
Shakes the wilderness
His voice divides flames of fire
His voice is heard as the thunder roars
His voice lifts me higher and higher
So we worship the Lord in Holiness
And in His temple all cry Glory
And the mountains bow down and men cry out
And the angles cry, holy, holy, holy
poem by Frank McEleny
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Periphery of Sensitivity
Stay quiet, do not complain.
What are you talking about?
You must know the periphery of sensitivity
Stay within.
Your five year daughter might have been raped.
So what?
Look at your character, madam.
Keep running from pillar to post.
Who cares, if you cry behind doors?
Life moves on...
A child was made to drink her urine.
Stay quiet, do not complain.
It happens sometimes...
It is normal.
The warden did her job.
She would not wet her bed again.
Do not get scared
If you find the sweeper
With knife in hand at operation theater;
It is a helping hand.
Aren't you too sensitive about life?
What would you do in absence of trained men?
So stay quiet, don't complain.
Do not try to raise your voice
Even if it hurts...
Price rise is normal during inflation.
You spend much more on ice-cream
It's just few rupees...
So stay quiet, do not complain.
See, how we are becoming thick skinned.
The spine will soon become non-existent.
It is evolution of Indian in independent India.
We learned to stay indifferent.
There is a periphery of sensitivity,
Stay within.
poem by Kingshuk Chakraborty
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I Thought I Heard You Calling My Name
(Lee Emerson)
I said goodbye to you this mornin'
With only these words to explain
I said I'd found someone Ilove better
But I still hear your voice call my name
I thought I heard you callin' my name
Funny, I still feel this way.
Your voice seem so close, but I knew
That by now you were many miles away
--- Instrumental ---
I walk through the streets of the city
People passing by think it's so strange
I'm talkin' but there's no one beside me
I thought I heard you call my name
I thought I heard you callin' my name
Funny I still feel this way
Your voice seems so close but I knew
That by now you're many miles away
I thought I heard you callin' my name...
song performed by by George Strait
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Trip To Auschwitz
I did not complain when my toes succumbed to numbness.
I did not complain when the bitter wind threw itself against me.
I did not complain when the thick mud ruined the flares of my jeans.
In comparison to the tragedy that has befallen here.
I have nothing of value to lose.
What is value?
What can I consider a true loss?
Nothing.
In comparison to the holocaust.
poem by Rachel Henley
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The Best Deception
I heard about your trip.
I heard about your souvenirs.
I heard about the cool breeze, in the cool nights,
and the cool guys that you spent them with.
Well I guess I should have heard of them from you.
I guess I should have heard of them from you.
Don't you see, don't you see,
that the charade is over?
And all the "Best Deceptions" and "Clever Cover Story" awards go to you.
So kiss me hard
'cause this will be the last time that I let you.
You will be back someday
and this awkward kiss that tells of other people's lips will be of service
to keeping you away.
I heard about your regrets.
I heard that you were feeling sorry.
I heard from someone that you wish you could set things right between us.
Well I guess I should have heard of them from you.
I guess I should have heard of them from you.
I'm waiting for blood to flow to my fingers,
I'll be all right when my hands get warm.
Ignoring the phone, I'd rather say nothing.
I'd rather you'd never heard my voice.
too late to be gracious
and you do not warrant long good-byes.
You're calling too late.
song performed by by Dashboard Confessional
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Voice In The Wilderness
My heart was so heavy with longing for you
My arms were so lonely, lonesome and blue
Alone in my sorrow, I heard a voice cry
A voice in the wilderness, a voice from the sky
Have faith in your darling, the voice seemed to say
Be true to her memory, shell come back one day
And though there was no-one, nobody to see
A voice in the wilderness brought comfort to me
We had a quarrel, I was unkind
Why did you leave me, love made me blind
Come back to me darling, I yearn for your touch
Have pity, come back now, I need you so much
Believe me and youll hear it, the voice from above
The voice in the wilderness, the voice of true love
Believe me and youll hear it, the voice from above
A voice in the wilderness, the voice of true love.
song performed by by Cliff Richard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Must I Complain, O God, I Pray?
When you made me by love thine,
And called me sweetly by my name,
And wrote it in your palm divine,
Must I complain, O God, I pray?
When you chose me for job fine,
And gave me breath in special way,
And made me walk on earth, ravine,
Must I complain, O God, I pray?
When you led me through hill, vale,
And desert, plain, seasons umptine,
And kept me safe through flood and hale,
Must I complain, O God, I pray?
When you watched o'er me night, day,
And fed, clothed, sheltered me all life,
And held me by right hand en way,
Must I complain, O God, I pray?
When you suffered, died on cross,
And resurrected on third day,
And wait for me with Father Boss,
Must I complain, O God, I pray?
When you are Almighty God,
And love to see my soul back pure,
And fair in judgment, just in rod,
Must I complain, O God, I pray?
Must I complain, O God, I pray?
Fondly dedicated to my dear elder sister,
Miss. Noeline Mary Clemencia BSc., B.T.,
On her birthday today
Copyright by Dr John Celes 11-02-'12
poem by John Celes
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