The lamp burns bright when wick and oil are clean.
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The Lamp burns sure—within
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The Lamp burns sure—within—
Tho' Serfs—supply the Oil—
It matters not the busy Wick—
At her phosphoric toil!
The Slave—forgets—to fill—
The Lamp—burns golden—on—
Unconscious that the oil is out—
As that the Slave—is gone.
poem by Emily Dickinson
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Of Wick And Light
let my wick afloat
bright and lighted
in the sea of oil...
let the lamp vibrate
in all dark corners
within and without...
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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You come before me this morning with clean hands and clean collars. I want you to have clean tongues, clean manners, clean morals and clean characters.
quote by John Burns
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Lamp In Us!
The small lamp commenced to burn,
When two bodies united as one,
From the day one until the day yet to know,
The lamp burns slowly in the spirit of ions.
Keeping the lamp safe from rough climes,
Protecting the yarn from the heavy dye,
Nourishing the lamp with fuels approved,
The lamp may burn quietly as expected.
we let it burn with bigger flame,
By adding steroidal fuels and nocturnal fun,
we let the motor to run in higher speed,
by pressing the temptation to accelerate.
The lamp may start to play snake and ladder,
By climbing up and down at the dice of illnesses,
Sometimes gets overheated to jam up the motor,
Hold your lamp lovingly for it to glow pleasantly.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Welcome Home
The fire burns bright
And the hearth is clean swept,
As she likes it kept,
And the lamp is alight.
She is coming to-night.
The wind's east of late.
When she comes, she'll be cold,
So the big chair is rolled
Close up to the grate,
And I listen and wait.
The shutters are fast,
And the red curtains hide
Every hint of outside.
But hark, how the blast
Whistled then as it passed!
Or was it the train?
How long shall I stand,
With my watch in my hand,
And listen in vain
For the wheels in the lane?
Hark! A rumble I hear
(Will the wind not be still?),
And it comes down the hill,
And it grows on the ear,
And now it is near.
Quick, a fresh log to burn!
Run and open the door,
Hold a lamp out before
To light up the turn,
And bring in the urn.
You are come, then, at last!
O my dear, is it you?
I can scarce think it true
I am holding you fast,
And sorrow is past.
poem by Robert Fuller Murray
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Brite And Dark
Lamp light
Will be making
Little darkness
Shado...
Lamp was
Bright...
Bright is lamp
Life...
Shado darkness
Also the lamp
Life...! ! !
Example is
Sutable to
Human life also;
Understand...
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Sonnet: Life’s Candle Flame
Our life is like a candle-wick aflame,
Whose glowing brightness drives darkness away,
And keeps on burning though a fierce Wind came,
To sputter, spew forth smoke, all night ‘til day.
A blowing Gale can make us burn too fast;
The wind can put the flame off premature;
Both wick and wax must synchronously last;
Our teacher best is dear Mother Nature.
How long each candle lasts? No one can tell;
How bright the flame can be? Depends on us;
Yet, some waste wick and wax to burn like hell!
God expects us to burn steady sans fuss.
A candle ought to light the world that’s dark;
Yet, burn with steadiness without a spark!
5-18-2002 by Dr John Celes
poem by John Celes
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Scarred Glass
The lamp that burns with affection, I bleed by self infliction - My mission not to obtain a stone on mars, the reason unknown rocks even the dust on Venus - Complimentory to solaris which features by night in the sky - Display the story of the way we will die -
The wick holds the flame to the candle, the hive which wax far too many cracks - Broken with love, one thousand slivers of scarred glass - So our life flickers, to be extinguished by the breath - Which is held by death - In her hands, seven to the billion, lost souls - To the destruction caused, seven billion, too many -
Whom will be sold, to the warmth which heats the cold
poem by Unic Cjonr
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Clean
Eat clean,
Live clean,
Sleep clean,
dress clean,
Walk clean,
Learn clean,
Play clean,
Think clean,
dance clean,
Talk clean,
Sing clean,
work clean,
Because the world around you is watching what you do;
You are the only one on this earth,
So live and let us live too.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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To Jyothi Basu – A Loving Tribute: The ‘Lamp’ is dead: Its light will always stay!
The ‘Lamp’ that lit the homes of myriad souls,
Who toiled, tilled, slogged as Indians proud, galore,
And stayed as guiding light achieving goals,
Has lost its oil and wick, and burns no more!
It stood as beacon for numerous souls,
Who flocked to him for wisdom that they sought,
And always got much more than they had thought;
The Lamp is gone but light it shone will stay!
The doyen worked his way uphill in life;
He stood beside all workers in their strife;
He was a perfect man, so rarely found,
He could have become mountain but stayed mound!
‘Hats off’ to leaders great who simple stay,
And lead unselfishly for others, way;
Who hold on party-men a trance-like sway,
Who lived for good principles every day!
The Lamp had burned for others sake for long;
Its light remains in hearts of myriad souls;
His glorious work will stay alive by song;
The man of mettle, heart of steel hadn’t holes!
No wonder, leaders praise him all sky-high!
His honest national service cannot die;
He left too big a void to be filled nigh;
His love for India is too great to vie!
‘God grant his soul eternal rest’, we pray!
May others follow his footsteps and way;
‘His example was golden’, people say;
He shines in hearts of many souls each day!
The ‘lamp’ is dead: Its light will always stay!
Dedicated in loving memory of the demised soul!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 1-17-2010
poem by John Celes
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A Dream Fallen Out Of Sleep
Outside the abode of our sleep
Somewhere a dream burns
Somewhere tears sparkle
Somewhere a moon smoulders
Outside the abode of our sleep
Somewhere the sun rises
Somewhere the black beauty - night
Street walks
Somewhere an earthen lamp
Hides behind a facade
Outside the abode or our sleep
Somewhere bright birds flutter
Somewhere beasts of prey prowl
Somewhere there's a memory - forest
A desert there is - and a watershed
Somewhere a snowscape burns
Outside the abode of our sleep
Somewhere there's a cloud-burst
Eyes stare in longing
Somewhere in the ocean of the heart
Someone burns to a dry death
Outside the abode of our sleep
Somewhere two flowers bloom
Somewhere we see each other every day
Somewhere the wounds are sutured
Outside the abode of our sleep
Somewhere a roof is lit up
A door is afire
Somewhere hidden
Somewhere revealed
Outside the abode of our sleep
A dream burns.
Poem by: Naseer Ahmed Nasir,1979.
Translated from Urdu into English by Dr. Satyapal Anand
Copyrights (C) All rights reserved.
poem by Naseer Ahmed Nasir
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The Warrior
He wrought in poverty, the dull grey days,
But with the night his little lamp-lit room
Was bright with battle flame, or through a haze
Of smoke that stung his eyes he heard the boom
Of Bluecher's guns; he shared Almeida's scars,
And from the close-packed deck, about to die,
Looked up and saw the "Birkenhead"'s tall spars
Weave wavering lines across the Southern sky:
Or in the stifling 'tween decks, row on row,
At Aboukir, saw how the dead men lay;
Charged with the fiercest in Busaco's strife,
Brave dreams are his -- the flick'ring lamp burns low --
Yet couraged for the battles of the day
He goes to stand full face to face with life.
poem by John McCrae
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The Tent
Only the stars endome the lonely camp,
Only the desert leagues encompass it;
Waterless wastes, a wilderness of wit,
Embattled Cold, Imagination's Cramp.
Now were the Desolation fain to stamp
The congealed Spirit of man into the pit,
Save that, unquenchable because unlit,
The Love of God burns steady, like a Lamp.
It burns ! beyond the sands, beyond the stars.
It burns ! beyond the bands, beyond the bars.
And so the Expanse of Mystery, veil by veil,
Burns inward, plume on plume still folding over
The dissolved heart of the amazéd lover-
The angel wings upon the Holy Grail!
W'aint t' Aissha.
poem by Aleister Crowley
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Fire Keepers
Keep the fire burning
That's been kindled in you soul
For the fire burns the dross away
And brings forth precious gold
Shine the light the fire brings
To the darkness in the land
For the Light is the Light of the world
And the darkness flees at His command
Keep the fire of praise ablaze
To combat life's malaise
For the Lord's fire is in Zion
An Inhabiter of our praise
Take your lamp where the fire burns
Bring oil most precious and true
For the oil causes the lamp to burn
All the dark night through
Seek the Giver of unchanging fire
From Whom all blessings flow
For you know not what the day may hold
And tomorrow is not your own.
poem by Theresa Quinn
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Love Burns
See what you do
You make me act so crazy
I'm overcome, I know
Stealin' my own show
For your love
And who am I now, Clown or Casanova
I'm never sure with you
And what more can I do
For your love burns
Warmer than you know
When love burns,
Never let it go away
And where do we go
Find a road to lead us
I'm searching in your eyes
A world beyond the skies
For your love burns
Brighter than you know
When love burns,
Never let it go away
Love burns
Brighter than you know
Oh, love burns
Never let it go away
Love burns when the spirit is wounded
Cut deep by the sound of rejection
Love burns in the soul of the seeker
Blue shadows in every direction
Love burns when the heart is uncovered
In the rage of the coldly storm
Love burns
Through the night and the morning
Till the frozen heart is warm
Love burns
Love burns
Love burns
Love burns
(Tom HensleyAlan Lindgren)
Album: On They Way To The Sky
song performed by by Neil Diamond
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Here we go passing by
`
Coal-bright heat
pulsates a primal beat,
this light burns white
in the squalid night.
The windswept fury
in a drunken flurry,
toppled kerosene lamp
leaves the table damp.
Morning slips in sly,
waking the bleary eye;
pollen grain breezes
peddles raucous sneezes.
`
poem by Frederick Kesner
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Telegraphic
mountain breeze blowing tree tops
swinging upon cliffs rising from the sea
shores where sea shells abound
maiden walking along the seaweeds
picking some pieces of her past
that dims like a lamp without oil
or gas without a child hands covering
the wick from the harshness of the night
wind..who wants the light dead?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Good night! which put the candle out?
Good night! which put the candle out?
A jealous zephyr, not a doubt.
Ah! friend, you little knew
How long at that celestial wick
The angels labored diligent;
Extinguished, now, for you!
It might have been the lighthouse spark
Some sailor, rowing in the dark,
Had importuned to see!
It might have been the waning lamp
That lit the drummer from the camp
To purer reveille!
poem by Emily Dickinson
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Brass Spittoons
Clean the spittoons, boy.
Detroit,
Chicago,
Atlantic City,
Palm Beach.
Clean the spittoons.
The steam in hotel kitchens,
And the smoke in hotel lobbies,
And the slime in hotel spittoons:
Part of my life.
Hey, boy!
A nickel,
A dime,
A dollar,
Two dollars a day.
Hey, boy!
A nickel,
A dime,
A dollar,
Two dollars
Buy shoes for the baby.
House rent to pay.
Gin on Saturday,
Church on Sunday.
My God!
Babies and gin and church
And women and Sunday
All mixed with dimes and
Dollars and clean spittoons
And house rent to pay.
Hey, boy!
A bright bowl of brass is beautiful to the Lord.
Bright polished brass like the cymbals
Of King David’s dancers,
Like the wine cups of Solomon.
Hey, boy!
A clean spittoon on the altar of the Lord.
A clean bright spittoon all newly polished—
At least I can offer that.
Com’mere, boy!
poem by Langston Hughes
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