Their houses are all built in the shape of tents, with very high chimneys.
quote by Christopher Columbus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Westminster Abbey, the Tower, a steeple, one church, and then another, presented themselves to our view; and we could now plainly distinguish the high round chimneys on the tops of the houses, which yet seemed to us to form an innumerable number of smaller spires, or steeples.
quote by Karl Philipp Moritz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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High built barries
Barriers built so high.
For noone to get around.
Noone will see.
This creature in distress.
Noone can see how much I hurt.
With barries built
A million feet high.
With a slight sigh.
Noone can reach me.
They cant get in my head.
Barriers so high.
For noone to get around.
Barries built in
Built all around me.
Barriers keep me safe.
No one can get in.
No one can take me.
With my barriers so high
poem by Amy Louise Kerswell
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Why can't we, with a more intelligent policy, actually have houses that are affordable, built at higher densities than they are at the moment and built on brownfield sites.
quote by John Prescott
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Empty Old Houses
Empty Old Houses
Empty old houses can talk…
But one must know how to listen…
to hear them
Empty old houses have stories…
But one must be eager to listen…
to hear them
Empty old houses can suffer..
But one must have empathy …
To feel it
Empty old houses can feel pain
But one must be able to bear it …
To feel it
Empty old houses have memories
But one must believe … that they have…
To share them
Empty old houses contain people’s lives
But one must believe…that they do…
To share them
Empty old houses can seem dead and deserted
But one must know that they’re not..
To know them
Empty old houses can teem with life’s pleasures
But one must walk through
to sense the aura of life
Empty old houses abound in life’s treasures
But one cannot help but…
To admire them
poem by David Whalen
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Shape Me Like A Man
Spark my body into existence
Breath your life into me
Fill these eyes with temptation
Work your mystery
Make me in the image you desire
Raise me up from the earth
Let me be your creation
Women, give me birth
Take me in your hands
And shape me like a man
Shape me like a man
Put this broken body in motion
With a strong and natural drive
Fill my flesh with sensation
Women let me know Im alive
Take me in your hands
And shape me like a man
Shape me like a man
Like a man
Shape me like a man
Like a man
Shape me like a man
Like a man
Take me in your hands
And shape me like a man
Like a man
Shape me like a man
Like a man
Like a man
Shape me like a man
Like a man
Shape me like a man
Make me like a man
song performed by by Gino Vanelli
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On A Painting By Patient B Of The Independence State Hospital For The Insane
1
These seven houses have learned to face one another,
But not at the expected angles. Those silly brown lumps,
That are probably meant for hills and not other houses,
After ages of being themselves, though naturally slow,
Are learning to be exclusive without offending.
The arches and entrances (down to the right out of sight)
Have mastered the lesson of remaining closed.
And even the skies keep a certain understandable distance,
For these are the houses of the very rich.
2
One sees their children playing with leopards, tamed
At great cost, or perhaps it is only other children,
For none of these objects is anything more than a spot,
And perhaps there are not any children but only leopards
Playing with leopards, and perhaps there are only the spots.
And the little maids that hang from the windows like tongues,
Calling the children in, admiring the leopards,
Are the dashes a child might represent motion by means of,
Or dazzlement possibly, the brilliance of solid-gold houses.
3
The clouds resemble those empty balloons in cartoons
Which approximate silence. These clouds, if clouds they are
(And not the smoke from the seven aspiring chimneys),
The more one studies them the more it appears
They too have expressions. One might almost say
They have their habits, their wrong opinions, that their
Impassivity masks an essentially lovable foolishness,
And they will be given names by those who live under them
Not public like mountains’ but private like companions’.
poem by Donald Justice
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My people in Khartoum
The war took my people to Khartuom
The war destroyed my people
The war destroyed their culture
The war destroyed their identity
The war lost their values and ethics
My people in Khartoum
They walk barefoot
They beg on the streets
They sleep on street
They sleep in open air
They sleep under unfinished skyscrapers
They’re chased anytime under skyscrapers
They sleep in tents of cardboards
They sleep in tents of sisal and nylon sacks
They eat leftovers from Northern dining tables
The children scavenged in dust pin
My tears drop, dropp ….dropp hundred
Times for their suffering
My mouth jeers, jeers ….jeers hundred
Times for their suffering
May my people sail on my tears home South
The war is over
Go home and build your beautiful grass houses
That don’t leak like cardboard and sack tents
Go and cultivate the land of your fathers
Leave Khartoum, leave Khartoum
Where there’re first, second and third classes
Of people
poem by David Aoloch Bion
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Eagle Flight
range soar
across desolate
canyons
holy places
where Native
Americans
built pueblo
adobe houses
care houses
upon spiritual
sun paths...
Copyright © Terence George Craddock
See also complete mosaic concept in the poem ‘Eagle Spirit’.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Over There
The fence is long and high where we love
You cant see the other side where they live
Ive spied with my little eye
And Ive sighed with my little sigh
But it seems Ive give all that I can give
Every hour I have to count to ten
And a thousand times Ive thought again
But it seems Ive given all that I can give
Is there anyone there
Here is the fence that they built
{over there}
This is the fence that hate built
Is anyone there
{over there}
This is the fence that turns one into two
I want to break through but Im though if I do
Ive tried with my little try
And Ive cried with my little cry
But it seems that the gate holds the only clue
Every hour I have to count to ten
And a thousand times Ive though again
But it seems Ive given all that I can give
Is there anyone there
Here is the fence that they built
{over there}
This is the fence that hate built
Is anyone there
{over there}
[brilliant solo from stan the man]
Every hour I have to count to ten
And a thousand times Ive thought again
Is there anyone there
Here is the fence that they built
{over there}
This is the fence that hate built
Is anyone there
{over there}
Is there anyone there
Here is the fence that they built
{over there}
This is the fence that hate built
Is anyone there
{over there}
But it seems Ive give all that I can give
Is there anyone there
Here is the fence that they built
{over there}
This is the fence that hate built
Is anyone there
{over there}
song performed by by Housemartins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Grandpa Was A Carpenter
Oh, grandpa wore his suit to dinner nearly every day
No particular reason, he just dressed that way
Brown necktie with a matching vest and both his wingtip shoes
He built a closet on our back porch and put a penny in a burned-out fuse
Grandpa was a carpenter, he built houses, stores and banks
Chain-smoked camel cigarettes, and hammered nails in planks
He would level on the level, he shaved even every door
And voted for eisenhower, cause lincoln won the war
Well, he used to sing me blood on the saddle and rock me on his knee
And let me listen to the radio before we got tv
Well, hed drive to church on sunday and hed take me with him too
Stained glass in every window, hearing aids in every pew
Grandpa was a carpenter, he built houses, stores and banks
Chain-smoked camel cigarettes, and hammered nails in planks
He would level on the level, he shaved even every door
And voted for eisenhower, cause lincoln won the war
Well, my grandma was a teacher, she went to school in bowling green
Traded in a milking cow for a singer sewing machine
Well, she called her husband mister, and she walked real tall and proud
She used to buy me comic books after grandpa died
Grandpa was a carpenter, he built houses, stores and banks
Chain-smoked camel cigarettes, and hammered nails in planks
He would level on the level, he shaved even every door
And voted for eisenhower, cause lincoln won the war
song performed by by Nitty Gritty Dirt Band
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Could Have Been
so many excuses
one sighs one day back in his hometown
when every street changed already
new houses built
old houses gone
you do not not recognizes
those old faces anymore
new names now
a heart beats for something
that it cannot understand
a nostalgia taunts you
for not having
achieved what should have
been you
like some of them
who got their names
at some
islands of limelight
an engineer in manila
raking much money
an accountant in her
finance tower
a fashion designer now
making it big
in the Big Apple
and you?
if it were not for Papa
i could have been the best
writer in the city
of Sunrises
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Houses are built to live in, and not to look on: therefore let use be preferred before uniformity.
quote by Francis Bacon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Houses are built to live in, not to look on therefore, let use be preferred before uniformity, except where both may be had.
quote by Francis Bacon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lawyers' houses are built on the heads of fools.
Shape In A Drape
There's a guy going round the town
You got to check what he is puttin' down
Just one look you know the story is great
He's the guy the chicks love
And the cats can't hate
He's a shape in a drape
A shape in a drape
He's a shape in a drape
And you can dig that he is stookin'
Now some say he's a clipster and a tailor's toad
And he could hype a miserman for all his gold
Some say he's a hipster and some say nix
But everyone's solid when he gets his kicks
He's a shape in a drape
A shape in a drape
He's a shape in a drape
And he is sure alive and kickin'
song performed by by Joe Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Eagle Spirit
eagles soar
on high thermals
fly through
such wonderous
freeborn skies
a multiversality
kaleidoscopic
sensual
spiritual
ever changing
seasons
nest on highest
most noble
sun eclipsed
inaccessible crags
or vibrant
living temples
trees raising
towards heaven
growing upwards
into host life
giving light
range soar
across desolate
canyons
holy places
where Native
Americans
built pueblo
adobe houses
care houses
upon spiritual
sun paths...
piercingly
beautiful
sky images
celebrating
auras
earth heat
thermal
energy fields
keen eyes
pierce heat
waves
Copyright © Terence George Craddock
The four individual elements of this mosaic concept are also posted separately as the poem ‘Eagles Soar On High Thermals’, ‘Eagle Eyries’, ‘Eagle Flight’ and ‘Eagle Sight’.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Vacant Eyes
standing in line
for a cup of soup,
second hand coats,
and worn out shoes.
the hands that
built your houses,
paved your roads,
worked your steel mills...
harvested your crops,
worked on your cars,
built your cities and towns,
your stores and your churches.
tremble with the cold,
hold the steaming cup
like a prayer...
wipe the corners of vacant eyes!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Shape Of Things To Come
Magic, logic
The system works, but not for me
Look beyond the nearest moment
And youll see
The shape of things to come
Somewhere deep in the city
I can feel you I know youre here
Baby, Im just a pussy-cat
But not a one that you should fear
One, two, always love you
One, two, move up above you
Two, two, right in the face
Yes sir, no sir, three bags full so
The shape of things to come
The shape of things to come
Let me get you outta here
Tragic, logic
The system hurts, but not for me
I look beyond the farest moment
And I say
The shape of things to come
The shape of things to come
The shape of things to come
The shape of things to come
The shape of things to come
The shape of things to come
The shape of things to come
Somewhere deep in the system
I can see you but youre not clear
A simple case of error correction
Come on baby, get your ass in gear
One, two, always love you
One, two, move up above you
Two, two, right in the face
Of sir, no sir, three bags full so
The shape of things to come
Let me get your outta here
The shape of things to come
Look into my eyes and Ill make your day
The shape of things to come
Good things, great things, all just same things
The shape of things to come
The shape of things to come
song performed by by Cher
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dad built houses and when they were sold, he moved on to a new town, so I know a lot about my native state.
quote by Gerald McRaney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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