Deep-versed in books and shallow in himself.
quote by John Milton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shallow Grave
When I fall in endless sleep
I hope that I'll be buried deep
Let me be the one that fortune favours
Even good children got shallow graves
Throw another clown to the lions
Throw another Joan on the blaze
Cast me away on the cruel calm ocean
and leave me for days and days and days and days and days
I won't lie in this poor shallow grave
I won't lie, I won't lie in this poor shallow grave
Dig me down deep where the dead men sleep
I won't lie in this poor shallow grave
Bless the poor 'cos like the rich
They all end up in a ditch
In this world of fools and knaves
Even good children got shallow graves
The tinker, the tailor, the fabulous five
Nobody gets out of this alive
Chorus
Dig me down deep where the dead men sleep
I won't lie in this poor shallow grave
Dig me down deep where the dead men sleep
I won't lie in this poor shallow grave
Dig me down, dig me down, dig me down deep
I won't lie in this poor shallow grave
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shallow Graves
When I fall in endless sleep
I hope that Ill be buried deep
Let me be the one that fortune favours
Even good children got shallow graves
Throw another clown to the lions
Throw another joan on the blaze
Cast me away on the cruel calm ocean
And leave me for days and days and days and days and days
I wont lie in this poor shallow grave
I wont lie, I wont lie in this poor shallow grave
Dig me down deep where the dead men sleep
I wont lie in this poor shallow grave
Bless the poor cos like the rich
They all end up in a ditch
In this world of fools and knaves
Even good children got shallow graves
The tinker, the tailor, the fabulous five
Nobody gets out of this alive
Chorus
Dig me down deep where the dead men sleep
I wont lie in this poor shallow grave
Dig me down deep where the dead men sleep
I wont lie in this poor shallow grave
Dig me down, dig me down, dig me down deep
I wont lie in this poor shallow grave
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Aquamarine
Aquamarine
All that glitters lies beneath
Deep blue,
Shallow green
I won't let it go
Aquamarine
You're my sexy little daydream
Deep blue,
Shallow green
I don't make it sound
Now there's a dream
Aquamarine
Send it up into the gulf stream
Deep blue,
shallow green
I won't let it go
Now there's a dream
Now there's a dream
Aquamarine
song performed by by Heather Nova
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shallow Days...
well, there are
shallow days, nothing deep
something for my
feet,
above me the sun
one and only one sun
just the sun and my head
and the shallow waters
on my toes
and the noon time walk
when everyone is as usual
having lunch, and
my toes get wet and i
am making meanings
on the shallow waters
the body in the middle of
this air, the hands are like
eagles flying. the fingers are
turning into feathers
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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In The Shallow Waters
to the geese
all waters are shallow
does one always have
to be on top
of the deep
silent waters?
to fathom the deep
and be the deep
itself
engrossed to the wisdom
of its secrets
and wallow
in the enigma
of the anonymous
or the unknown paths
breathless
there is a time to be
not ourselves
and we take chances on the
shallow waters
in there we are not fishers
of men
or women or anything
we wade and relax
waters covering half our bodies
half-truths
you must see and feel
trivial as they are
they make us
so light like cotton
or silk flowing on our skins
like clouds
we float and drift and go anywhere
i felt it once
oh, so nice temporarily but at the end
it haunts me.
for it is not me and it can never be me.
i am matter, i have weight and i sink
to the bottom
to the deepest secrets of my truths
if i drown at least, i have my graveyard
ready.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Silent Lover i
PASSIONS are liken'd best to floods and streams:
The shallow murmur, but the deep are dumb;
So, when affection yields discourse, it seems
The bottom is but shallow whence they come.
They that are rich in words, in words discover
That they are poor in that which makes a lover.
poem by Sir Walter Raleigh
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Books
The universe (which others call the library). . .
-Jorge Luis Borges
Books which are stitched up the center with coarse white thread
Books on the beach with sunglass-colored pages
Books about food with pictures of weeping grapefruits
Books about baking bread with browned corners
Books about long-haired Frenchmen with uncut pages
Books of erotic engravings with pages that stick
Books about inns whose stars have sputtered out
Books of illuminations surrounded by darkness
Books with blank pages & printed margins
Books with fanatical footnotes in no-point type
Books with book lice
Books with rice-paper pastings
Books with book fungus blooming over their pages
Books with pages of skin with flesh-colored bindings
Books by men in love with the letter O
Books which smell of earth whose pages turn
poem by Erica Jong
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What We Have Become
in the shallow part of the river
we decide to play: life is a game
we like to believe that
our arms drip like cold water
on the side of the glass
that you hold when you have felt
the first thirst
i shall not satisfy you
and so i have become the bait
of the fish
you have become more interested
on what i have to say
not to be mistaken as trivial
i have also taken more glances at you
i believe you
and so with this trust i ask you to go with me
to the deep part of the sea
i swim first then you follow
you know how to swim and you swim well in fact
like a fish
at the shallow part
i told you that nothing is hidden
nothing signifies anything
the stones are stones
and nothing else
your questions are just ordinary questions
which i have answered to well
and you believe me more until
we dive deep
deeper into the ocean floor
where the sands though silent
have more to say
than what i can tell you
the stones on the sides of the deep
now are telling you more
and you begin to understand
why for all those years
on that dry land
i have kept my silence
my distance.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Can you look beyond the shallow
Can you look beyond the shallow?
To find a deeper meaning which is true.
Can you look beyond the shadows?
To find a philosophy for you
Can you find hope in times of madness?
to bring you through your despair
can you find strength and guidance
in the books over there
can you find faith
in actions good works and deeds done
can you find solace when the game is lost and not won
can keep both eyes open
when others with prejudice are opposed
can you find meaning where there seems to be none or it is supposed
, then my friend you’ll never lose and the battle will be half won.
For how we perceive and what we believe
Makes us whole
a heart that looks beyond the shallow
will find what it looks for it will find its goal.
poem by Daniel Hooks
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Going Out To Enjoy The Faces Of Nature
summer. do not sell me books
i have enough of books.
i am going for a swim
bringing my girl.
i will go naked then
up and down. we are going
diving, seeing not just corals
we go for black urchins and
electric eels.
we go bubbling and
taking deep breaths
upstream. you ask me why?
well, this is summer and i am
not reading books.
i will be kissing the beautiful
faces of nature.
and since this is summer
motherfucker, i must do it well.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Dad and Me
Inside our house you'll find crannies and nooks.
Crevices and cracks and fissures and books!
Books under the bed and on the floor,
Books around the table and beside the door,
Books on the bookshelf and surrounding it,
Books all over the house, every single bit!
Not a one of these books are non-fiction,
Different worlds are their depiction.
Fictional, sci-fi, dark and fantasy,
Horror and happy, more books for me!
Books belonging to my father,
Or belonging to me as I rather.
My father and I in bookworm heaven,
Until mum cleans up around half past seven.
She throws the books in a huff,
Says it's a mess and to clean it up!
Well dad and I try to clean,
But on the work we quickly wean
And in one of the larger nooks
You'll find dad and me reading our books.
poem by Lenore Lee
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Ballade Of The Bookworm
Far in the Past I peer, and see
A Child upon the Nursery floor,
A Child with books upon his knee,
Who asks, like Oliver, for more!
The number of his years is IV,
And yet in Letters hath he skill,
How deep he dives in Fairy-lore!
The Books I loved, I love them still!
One gift the Fairies gave me: (Three
They commonly bestowed of yore)
The Love of Books, the Golden Key
That opens the Enchanted Door;
Behind it BLUEBEARD lurks, and o'er
And o'er doth JACK his Giants kill,
And there is all ALADDIN'S store, -
The Books I loved, I love them still!
Take all, but leave my Books to me!
These heavy creels of old we bore
We fill not now, nor wander free,
Nor wear the heart that once we wore;
Not now each River seems to pour
His waters from the Muses' hill;
Though something's gone from stream and shore,
The Books I loved, I love them still!
ENVOY.
Fate, that art Queen by shore and sea,
We bow submissive to thy will,
Ah grant, by some benign decree,
The Books I loved--to love them still.
poem by Andrew Lang
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The Dreamers
Black eyed ravens
They spiral down
They tilt his head back
To the flame filled sunset
Raise their guns high
As the darken falls
These are the days boys
Shallow man
Shallow man (shallow man) and they
Eats in the doorways with his head inclined
And hes always in decline
No-one hears anymore
So he shrinks as they ride
Under vermillion skies
So it goes (so it goes)
Just a searcher (so it goes)
Lonely soul (so it goes)
The last of the dreamers (so it goes)
Shallow man
Shallow man
Speaks to the shadows
Moves his trembling hands
And hes always a little late
For the dawning of the day
So it goes (so it goes)
Just a searcher (so it goes)
Lonely soul (so it goes)
The last of the dreamers (so it goes)
(so it goes) just a searcher
(so it goes) lonely soul
(so it goes) the last of the dreamers (so it goes)
(so it goes) just a searcher
(so it goes) lonely soul
(so it goes) the last of the dreamers (so it goes)
(so it goes)
(so it goes)
(so it goes)
(so it goes)
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wy Can't I Rest As Witness?
I never went deep into ocean of
knowledge,
Ice toy I am,
How deep can I go before I melt
and become one with ocean?
Once I know what I am, That nothingness of of calmness
of space in this universe,
Still beyond universe I dwell,
I have nothing to do here,
No wish, no desire,
I meet with what is in my way, Never like to look at thing,
I look at myself as the faceless
face of universe!
What is use of words,
When I am origin of word?
What books can offer, just the y can point at me,
Even then they fail to say what I am,
Then what I get from books more than my life itself,
Seeing myself in all,
I am that fool to see foolishness everywhere,
I am that wise who can see wisdom everywhere,
Why can't I rest as witness,
Is the creator or sustainer in me worried of destroyer in me become mad?
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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Catholic School Girls Rule
Catholic school girls rule...
In the class she's taking notes
Just how deep deep is my throat
Mother Mary don't you know
She's got eyes like Marylin Monroe
Catholic school girls rule...
From the cross she's raised her head
This is what the sister said
Give no love until you're wed
Live no life until you're dead
The good books says we must suppress
The good books says we must confess
But who cares what the good books says
Cause now she's taking off her dress
Catholic school girls rule...
Lead us into temptation
We are pure divine creation
Talkin' about my generation
Injected with the seed of emaculation
Catholic !
song performed by by Red Hot Chili Peppers from Freaky Styley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Our pleasures are shallow, our sorrows are deep.
160
I leap from
this shallow
River
To the deep
To find out
where I am
really going
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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To Find Out Where I Am Really Going
I leap from
this shallow
River
To the deep
To find out
where I am
really going
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I Know I Have A Copy Somewhere
Wherever you may choose to look
You're guaranteed to find a book.
Perhaps a murder mystery.
Anthologies of poetry
Reference books and picture books.
Books on witchcraft and black magic
Tomes on almost any topic.
Some by authors long since dead.
Books which try to look ahead.
Books of every shape and size.
As I have come to realise.
Enough to start a library
Though jumbled up haphazardly.
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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