If I could only remember that the days were, not bricks to be laid row on row, to be built into a solid house, where one might dwell in safety and peace, but only food for the fires of the heart.
quote by Edmund Wilson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
This House
(nile rodgers)
This house is built
On a foundation of love
This house is built
On a foundation of love
Our toys are in the attic baby
Pictures on the wall
We can see our memories
From the days past in the mirror
Down the hall, oh yeah
Our love will survive in our own little paradise
So inspired, so inspired
Palatial it may not be
But its a home and a castle to me
A dream from a magazine
And well never give it up cause
This house is built
On a foundation of love
This house is built
On a foundation of love
Ill try to comfort you baby
You try to comfort me yeah
I know you love me
With all your heart, oh yeah
cause you say you do
You know that when you are sad
Ill be there in a flash
At the drop of a hat, oh yeah
cause I want you to feel love
And you dont have to say a thing
You dont have to ask, cause baby
This house is built
On a foundation of love
This house is built
On a foundation of love
Maybe well strike it rich
One day really make it big
And I know because our love is so strong
Well always have a home
This house is built
On a foundation of love
This house is built
On a foundation of love
This house is built
On a foundation of love
This house is built
On a foundation of love
This house is built
On a foundation of love
This house is built
On a foundation of love
song performed by by Diana Ross
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Grave. From The Anglo-Saxon
For thee was a house built
Ere thou wast born,
For thee was a mould meant
Ere thou of mother camest.
But it is not made ready,
Nor its depth measured,
Nor is it seen
How long it shall be.
Now I bring thee
Where thou shalt be;
Now I shall measure thee,
And the mould afterwards.
Thy house is not
Highly timbered,
It is unhigh and low;
When thou art therein,
The heel-ways are low,
The side-ways unhigh.
The roof is built
Thy breast full nigh,
So thou shalt in mould
Dwell full cold,
Dimly and dark.
Doorless is that house,
And dark it is within;
There thou art fast detained
And Death hath the key.
Loathsome is that earth-house,
And grim within to dwell.
There thou shalt dwell,
And worms shall divide thee.
Thus thou art laid,
And leavest thy friends
Thou hast no friend,
Who will come to thee,
Who will ever see
How that house pleaseth thee;
Who will ever open
The door for thee,
And descend for thee;
For soon thou art loathsome
And hateful to see.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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The House That Built Jack
Scorched white by the lowly hung sun,
Crouched underneath the low ceiling sky.
Could burn his fingerprints right off,
Could be his last underground loft.
There's trick draws and the walls are too dry,
The stairs don't go up, the roof doesn't tilt,
In the house that Jack built.
An architect of soil and ash,
He buried and burned what wouldn't build.
The house strong with mortar and bricks,
The home strong, strong as straw and sticks.
Warm if he's willing, weak as he's willed,
The bell can't ring and the flowers won't wilt,
In the house that Jack built.
There's phantoms in the furniture,
In the company of his own ghost.
Trade family for plastic house plants,
Trade your heart if the clock enchants.
Never the neighbour, nobody's host,
Watch your head, mind your step, beware the guilt,
In the house that Jack built.
The labyrinth, he burnt it down,
There's a well but he can't choose a wish.
Etched the blueprints onto his skin,
From his own flaws; thereof; therein.
Unsmash the mirrors, face the blemish,
All work and no play, Jack can't find the hilt,
In the house that Jack built.
The house speaks to Jack and moves him.
Along the floorboards beneath the dust.
He's the shadow the bulbs can't touch.
He's the loft filled with far too much.
His house a temple; In jack we trust.
Home is where the heart, like cement, is spilt,
In the house that Jack built.
Home is where your soul must fill in each crack;
Home is what makes up for what you lack;
Home is what's bringing this flashback;
The house that built Jack.
poem by Ella Veyes
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Differentiate love
My love for you is built of passion
As the house is made of bricks.
A heap of passion is not love
As a pile of bricks is not a house.
Love is of lust;
Lust alone is not love.
20.08.2001, Pakd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Garden Wall
Bricks of the wall,
so much older than the house -
taken I think from a farm pulled down
when the street was built -
narrow bricks of another century.
Modestly, though laid with panels and parapets,
a wall behind the flowers -
roses and hollyhocks, the silver
pods of lupine, sweet-tasting
phlox, gray
lavender -
unnoticed -
but I discovered
the colors in the wall that woke
when spray from the hose
played on its pocks and warts -
a hazy red, a
grain gold, a mauve
of small shadows, sprung
from the quiet dry brown -
archetype
of the world always a step
beyond the world, that can't
be looked for, only
as the eye wanders,
found.
poem by Denise Levertov
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Crazy Jane And The Bishop
Bring me to the blasted oak
That I, midnight upon the stroke,
(All find safety in the tomb.)
May call down curses on his head
Because of my dear Jack that's dead.
Coxcomb was the least he said:
The solid man and the coxcomb.
Nor was he Bishop when his ban
Banished Jack the Journeyman,
(All find safety in the tomb.)
Nor so much as parish priest,
Yet he, an old book in his fist,
Cried that we lived like beast and beast:
The solid man and the coxcomb.
The Bishop has a skin, God knows,
Wrinkled like the foot of a goose,
(All find safety in the tomb.)
Nor can he hide in holy black
The heron's hunch upon his back,
But a birch-tree stood my Jack:
The solid man and the coxcomb.
Jack had my virginity,
And bids me to the oak, for he
(all find safety in the tomb.)
Wanders out into the night
And there is shelter under it,
But should that other come, I spit:
The solid man and the coxcomb.
poem by William Butler Yeats
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Composing is like driving down a foggy road toward a house. Slowly you see more details of the house-the color of the slates and bricks, the shape of the windows. The notes are the bricks and the mortar of the house.
quote by Benjamin Britten
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Brother, Can You Spare A Dime
Once I built a railroad...made it run
Made it race against time
Once I built a railroad...now it's done
Brother, can you spare a dime
Once I built a tower...to the sun
Bricks...rivet...and lime
Once I built a tower...now it's done
Brother, can you spare a dime
Once in cocky suits
Gee, we looked swell
Full of that Yankee Doodle-dom
Half a million boots..they went
slogging through Hell
And I..I was a kid with a drum
Say, don't you remember..
They called me Al
It was Al all the time
Say, don't you remember
I'm your pal
Buddy, can you spare a dime.....
song performed by by Tom Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A poem song
My love is built on solid rock
My love is built on solid rock
My love is built on solid rock
All other love is sinking love
My love is built on solid rock
The eagle bird is flying through
The royal bird is flying through
The golden bird is beautiful
My love for you is standing sure
My love is built on solid rock
poem by Olayemi Ayo
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The Ten Thousand Poems
it is like a brick
just some bricks
day by day
and day by day
i lay those bricks
some on the brink
of breaking days
day by day
but know what
i do not get tired
laying those bricks
as always i think
of building
our future
cathedral.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Loose Change
I built a house of cards
Built a house of rain
Built a house of love
Its hard to build again
Built a road to reason
Built a road to fate
Built a road to the promised land
Right up to the gate
Loose change in my pocket
Future in my hand
Too many distractions
For me to understand
Too many distractions
Got to get back home
Get into something solid
Get out of the zone
Some roads bring renewal
Some roads hide and wait
Some roads promise everything
And steal your fuel away
Loose change in my pocket
Future in my hand
Too many distractions
For me to understand
Some roads I been flyin
Some roads I crashed
Some roads I been sleepin on
Some roads I got back
Some roads I been runnin
Some roads I was stopped
Some roads I been walkin down
Some roads I was lost
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Just a little poem about a house
A house made out of glass and bricks
That has seen some tricks
A house that has been here for years
This house has witnessed some happiness and some tears
This is house used to be my home,
Used to call it my dome
Now it doesn’t exist anymore
Glass and bricks are swept to the floor
Memories of the past, weren’t meant to last
The only thing that still stands, is the drawing in your hands.
poem by Oopsie Woopsie
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23feb14 The Day After: This House
an earthquake here
like that this house
will fall judgement day
I have made my choices
but where really
is your house built?
a house
built
on sand?
or a house built
on the rock mass?
better a tin shack
in heaven
or a mansion in hell?
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Built This House
I built this house from its foundation
It's foundation I made it strong
So that it can't be shaken
By anything
I built this house
On love
Not on lies
I built this house
I turned it into a home
And that was my vision
I built this house
Just like a wise woman
A woman who builds a house on a foundation of a rock
Not like a foolish woman
Who builds a house
On a sand
And then turns and destroys it with her hands
I won't allow anything to break it down
To break my children and my husband
With nonsense
With arguments, alcohol and unfaithfulness
So devil you better live
Cause I built this house
On top of the rock Jesus
poem by Vangile Mtyali
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Solid Rock
Well take a look at that
I made a castle in the sand
Saying this is where its at you know
Couldnt understand now
If I realised that the chances were slim
How come Im so surprised when the tide rolled in
I wanna live on solid rock
Im gonna live on solid rock
I wanna give I dont wanna be blocked
Im gonna live on solid rock
Well Im sick of potential
Im sick of vanity now
Im sticking to essential reality now
I dont know whats worse
Try to make a silk purse
Living an illusion living in confusion
Well a house of cards
Was never built for shock
You could blow it down in any kind of weather
Now two solid rocks two solid blocks
You know theyre gonna stick
Yeah theyre gonna stick together
Because the heart you break
Thats the one that you rely on
The bed that you make
Thats the one you gotta lie on
When you point, your finger cos your plan fell through
You got three more fingers pointing back at you
I wanna live on solid rock
Im gonna live on solid rock
I wanna give I dont wanna be blocked
Im gonna live on solid rock
Im solid rock now
song performed by by Dire Straits
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Repost....
a house is built
made of bricks, red as blood
at the center of the island
black as a mole
at the middle of your right
cheek
it is fenced by the locks of
your hair
it is guarded by the cautious
tongue of your face
at the other side
bounded by a big brown river
is a cottage
no living room, no kitchen
not even a restroom
it is just a square cottage
with roof leaking
where i can see the stars
if you know me well enough
for years that i have been with you
and for days that i have left you
you shall know where i live
and if you love me well enough
you'll take nothing with you
to follow me
and i know you will never be lost
until you find
the place where my heart sings
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Where I Live....you Know It.
a house is built
made of bricks, red as blood
at the center of the island
black as a mole
at the middle of your right
cheek
it is fenced by the locks of
your hair
it is guarded by the cautious
tongue of your face
at the other side
bounded by a big brown river
is a cottage
no living room, no kitchen
not even a restroom
it is just a square cottage
with roof leaking
where i can see the stars
if you know me well enough
for years that i have been with you
and for days that i have left you
you shall know where i live
and if you love me well enough
you'll take nothing with you
to follow me
and i know you will never be lost
until you find
the place where my heart sings
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Food In The Mouth
The food encasing our mouth is the face,
And the face does express what is solid;
Governance is held in a house, that is the arena
We turn to for guidance and offspring.
The food of a life requires new meaning of events,
The gospel of the world is a revelation so sounding
Like the gorgon compared to the actual monster.
Good food is shelter as roofs are like sports,
The food of our face still handles me.
poem by Naveed Akram
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The house of danger is built upon the borders of safety.
Overweight with Food
Are you just a tub of lard and
Vastly overweight?
Do you think that when you die you'll
Need a piano crate
To act as coffin for your frame? -
Chosen as you die in shame, with
Only you to take the blame
For years of eating much the same:
A daily calorific fest
Gourmands of your ilk digest!
Is your heart in final fling and
Nearly set to burst?
Are your arteries bunged and clogged and
Feeling now the worst
For wear? - your aneurysm fit to blow
While blood as thick as rising dough
Cries 'Halt! ' to any hope of flow:
A dreadful state to put on show
In front of any nurse!
Best you hail a hearse.
Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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