Related quotes: Not much has been written...

Not much has been written about the Nereids of modern Greece. Wherever there is a warm, healing stream they believe that it flows from the breasts of the Nereids.

quote by James Theodore Bent
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Modern Dancing

Modern, modern, modern, modern dancing
Modern dancing, modern dancing
Modern dancing, modern
I see you acting modernly with the boys and girls
Exposure breeds discovery in the modern world
The 60's hairdos 90's eyes are just flashing lights
A touch of neon hinting class for the modern night
Modern dancing, modern dancing
Modern dancing, modern dancing
Dancing
Modern dancing, modern dancing
Modern dancing, modern
Mono vision tv face and determined eyes
The clothes are perfect the rips in place just the perfect size
Familiarity breeds contempt but it doesn't show
We've heard the music times before but it still makes you go
Modern dancing, modern dancing
Modern dancing, modern dancing
Modern dancing, dancing
....variations to fade....

song performed by by Men Without Hats
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Thirst

FIRST VOICE.

I thirst, but earth cannot allay
The fever coursing through my veins,
The healing stream is far away--
It flows through Salem's lovely plains.

The murmurs of its crystal flow
Break ever o'er this world of strife;
My heart is weary, let me go,
To bathe it in the stream of life;

For many worn and weary hearts
Have bathed in this pure healing stream,
And felt their griefs and cares depart,
E'en like some sad forgotten dream.

SECOND VOICE.

"The Word is nigh thee, even in thy heart."

Say not, within thy weary heart,
Who shall ascend above,
To bring unto thy fever'd lips
The fount of joy and love.

Nor do thou seek to vainly delve
Where death's pale angels tread,
To hear the murmur of its flow
Around the silent dead.

Within, in thee is one living fount,
Fed from the springs above;
There quench thy thirst till thou shalt bathe
In God's own sea of love.

poem by Frances Ellen Watkins Harper
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Moon-Path

The full, clear moon uprose and spread
Her cold, pale splendor o'er the sea;
A light-strewn path that seemed to lead
Outward into eternity.
Between the darkness and the gleam
An old-world spell encompassed me:
Methought that in a godlike dream
I trod upon the sea.

And lo! upon that glimmering road,
In shining companies unfurled,
The trains of many a primal god,
The monsters of the elder world;
Strange creatures that, with silver wings,
Scarce touched the ocean's thronging floor,
The phantoms of old tales, and things
Whose shapes are known no more.

Giants and demi-gods who once
Were dwellers of the earth and sea,
And they who from Deucalion's stones,
Rose men without an infancy;
Beings on whose majestic lids
Time's solemn secrets seemed to dwell,
Tritons and pale-limbed Nereids,
And forms of heaven and hell.

Some who were heroes long of yore,
When the great world was hale and young;
And some whose marble lips yet pour
The murmur of an antique tongue;
Sad queens, whose names are like soft moans,
Whose griefs were written up in gold;
And some who on their silver thrones
Were goddesses of old.

As if I had been dead indeed,
And come into some after-land,
I saw them pass me, and take heed,
And touch me with each mighty hand;
And evermore a murmurous stream,
So beautiful they seemed to me,
Not less than in a godlike dream
I trod the shining sea.

poem by Archibald Lampman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Healing

I'm still healing, I'm still dying.
I'm still healing, I'm still nothing.
I'm still healing, I live alone.
I'm still healing, my eyes see shadows.
I'm still healing, I love no one.
I'm still healing, I'm finally dead.

poem by Jill Laughlin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Conceal to reveal

Breasts bare, breasts with bra,
Breasts revealing the cleavage,
Breasts under blouse with bare belly
And breasts with contour visible
Have their appeal up in that order.
The more one is left for imagination
The more the beauty will reveal.
06.12.2006

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Modern Age

Well I found a road and off I sped
I met a man with no little toe and a real big head
Though I did not speak somehow I said
Where are you from? He said the modern age
And where are you from? I said the modern age
On the shore by the sea that was still lathering
I met a man in the business of hunting and gathering
Somehow we understood each other's blathering
And he said where are you from? I said the modern age
And where are you from? He said the modern age
Stopped at a light in my car
I asked the next car how they are
They say that we are fine and how are you?
I say that I am fine and thank you
I'm feeling fine in the modern age
Driving around in the modern age
Driving around in the modern age

song performed by by Frank Black
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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But I don't think there has ever been anything written on the nature of violent man as deep and as thorough as Shakespeare's Titus. I think it puts all modern movies and modern exploitations of violence to shame.

quote by Julie Taymor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sunk Lyonesse

In sea-cold Lyonesse,
When the Sabbath eve shafts down
On the roofs, walls, belfries
Of the foundered town,
The Nereids pluck their lyres
Where the green translucency beats,
And with motionless eyes at gaze
Make ministrely in the streets.

And the ocean water stirs
In salt-worn casement and porch.
Plies the blunt-nosed fish
With fire in his skull for torch.
And the ringing wires resound;
And the unearthly lovely weep,
In lament of the music they make
In the sullen courts of sleep:
Whose marble flowers bloom for aye:
And - lapped by the moon-guiled tide -
Mock their carver with heart of stone,
Caged in his stone-ribbed side.

poem by Walter de la Mare
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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By The River

FLOW on, ye lays so loved, so fair,

On to Oblivion's ocean flow!
May no rapt boy recall you e'er,

No maiden in her beauty's glow!

My love alone was then your theme,

But now she scorns my passion true.
Ye were but written in the stream;

As it flows on, then, flow ye too!

poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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The House Of Dust: Part 03: 05: Melody In A Restaurant

The cigarette-smoke loops and slides above us,
Dipping and swirling as the waiter passes;
You strike a match and stare upon the flame.
The tiny fire leaps in your eyes a moment,
And dwindles away as silently as it came.

This melody, you say, has certain voices—
They rise like nereids from a river, singing,
Lift white faces, and dive to darkness again.
Wherever you go you bear this river with you:
A leaf falls,—and it flows, and you have pain.

So says the tune to you—but what to me?
What to the waiter, as he pours your coffee,
The violinist who suavely draws his bow?
That man, who folds his paper, overhears it.
A thousand dreams revolve and fall and flow.

Some one there is who sees a virgin stepping
Down marble stairs to a deep tomb of roses:
At the last moment she lifts remembering eyes.
Green leaves blow down. The place is checked with shadows.
A long-drawn murmur of rain goes down the skies.
And oaks are stripped and bare, and smoke with lightning:
And clouds are blown and torn upon high forests,
And the great sea shakes its walls.
And then falls silence . . . And through long silence falls
This melody once more:
'Down endless stairs she goes, as once before.'

So says the tune to him—but what to me?
What are the worlds I see?
What shapes fantastic, terrible dreams? . . .
I go my secret way, down secret alleys;
My errand is not so simple as it seems.

poem by Conrad Potter Aiken
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Melody In A Restaurant

The cigarette smoke loops and slides above us,
Dipping and swirling as the waiter passes.
You strike a match and stare upon the flame.
The tiny firelight leaps in your eyes a moment
And dies away as silently as it came.

So says the tune to you—but what to me ?
What to the waiter, as he pours your coffee?
The violinist who suavely draws his bow ?
That man, who folds his paper, overhears it.
A thousand dreams revolve and fall and flow.

Someone there is who sees a virgin stepping
Down marble stairs to a deep tomb of roses:
At the last moment she lifts remembering eyes.
Green leaves blow down; the place is checked with shadows;
A long-drawn murmur of rain goes down the skies.
And oaks are stripped and bare, and smoke with lightning;
And clouds are blown and torn upon high forests;
And the great sea shakes its walls.
And then falls silence And through long silence falls
This melody once more:
Down endless stairs she goes, as once before.

So says the tune to him—but what to me?
What are the worlds I see?
What shapes fantastic, terrible dreams?
I go my secret way, down secret alleys.
My errand is not so simple as it seems.

poem by Conrad Potter Aiken
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Journeys end

The stream meanders to and fro.
Here where the cattle come to drink
the yellow cowslips gaily grow.

The weeping willows stooping low
adorn the banks on either side.
The stream continues in its flow.

Past meadows where the cattle graze
and fields where corn is ripening
but here and there red poppies blaze.

The stream now to a river grown
now deep and wide; it gathers strength
Its purpose to itself unknown.

Past cottages which stand alone.
Small villages and market towns
and bridges built of weathered stone.

It has become a thoroughfare
which slices through the city’s heart
With rush and bustle everywhere.

The docks and quays and factories
confine the river in its course.
There is no grass there are no trees.

The river flows on turgidly
until at last it gains release
and flows into the open sea.

But in the distance still the stream
meanders gently to and fro
Where cowslips nod and lovers dream.

poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Beauty has no standard

Plump cheeks,
Surging breasts,
Massive buttocks
Fleshy thighs.
It is epic beauty.

Firm cheeks,
Standing breasts,
Bonny buttocks,
Slender thighs,
It is modern beauty.

Beauty reforms according to fashion.
26.04.2002, pkd

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Touching The Hem Of His Garment

For many years this woman sought healing.
Then she came to Jesus in secret feeling
'I only have to reach out and touch him so
There is no need for anyone else to know.'

The Lord knows when we reach out as she did.
So secretly and our actions from all others hid.
For there true healing of soul takes place
when we come to Jesus by God's grace

Let's reach out to Jesus just as this woman did
and not keep our sorrows and feelings hid.
As you touch Jesus, He also touches you
And with His touch deep healing comes through.

Written after reading Matthew 9: 18-22

poem by Royston
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Till We Get The Healing Done

Down those old ancient streets
Down those old ancient roads
Baby there together we must go
Till we get the healing done
Till we get the healing done
Till youre satisfied with your life
Till youre satisfied with your life
Till youre satisfied with your life
And its running right, and its running right
Till you deal with the poison inside
Sometimes youve got to sit down and cry
When you deal with the poison inside
Till we get the healing done
Till we get the healing done
Till you feel the tingle up your spine
Till youre satisfied and youre mine
Till you feel a tingle up your spine
Till we get the healing done
Till we get the healing done
Till you live in the glory of the one
Till you live in the land of the sun
Till you feel like your life has just begun
Till we get the healing done
Till we get the healing done
Till we dwell in the house of the lord
Till you dont have to worry no more
Till you open a brand new world
Till we get the healing done
Till we get the healing done
Till it makes you feel alright
Till youre satisfied with your life
Till you know you live in the light
Till we get the healing done
Oh till we get the healing done
Till you look at the mountains every day
Till you wash all your troubles away
And you live right here in the day
Till we get the healing done
Oh till we get the healing done
Oh till its truth and its beauty and its grace
Till youve finally found your true place
Till you know your original face
Till we get the healing done
Oh child, till we get the healing done
Oh when everythings going right
Till youre satisfied with your life
Till youre living in the light
Till we get the healing done
Oh till we get the healing done
Oh when you feel it, when you feel it in your soul
Baby, and you really know
That you reap just what you sow
When we get the healing done
Oh till we get the healing done
Till you know that its working every time
Till you work it out in your mind
And you know it straight down the line
Till you get the healing done
Oh make no worry till we get the healing done
Oh we gonna go back, back to our favourite place
Oh look at it again
See it all through different eyes
When we get the healing done
Oh when we get the healing done
Oh were living for the grace of the lord
Baby feel so good about it all
Oh give thanks every day
Till we get the healing done
Oh till we get the healing done
Till we get the healing done
Oh baby, baby till we get the healing done
Till we get the healing done
Baby you got to stay
Till we get the healing done
If it takes to the break of day
Till we get the healing done
Till we get the healing done
Till we get the healing done
Till we get the healing done
You got to stay all night long
Till we get the healing done

song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Modern Girl

By eric clapton
Shes a modern girl in a modern world
Where only the strong can survive.
Too many dreams have been laid at her door,
But the modern girl will ride on, oh oh oh.
Where would you fit in the scheme of her day
And where could you fit in her heart?
Trying to be small will get you nowhere at all,
But the modern girl will ride on, oh oh oh.
Dont throw your love away.
Dont throw your love away.
Dont throw your love away.
Dont throw your love away.
She moves through your life like a warm summer breeze,
And nothing will stand in her way.
The sound of her voice brings your heart to its knees,
But the modern girl will ride on, oh oh oh.
Chorus
Chorus

song performed by by Eric Clapton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet. The sun and stream

As some dark stream within a cavern's breast,
Flows murmuring, moaning for the distant sun,
So ere I met thee, murmuring its unrest,
Did my life's current coldly, darkly run.
And as that stream, beneath the sun's full gaze,
Its separate course and life no more maintains,
But now absorbed, transfused far o'er the plains,
It floats, etherealized in those warm rays;
So in the sunlight of thy fervid love,
My heart, so long to earth's dark channels given,
Now soars, all pain, all doubt, all ill above,
And breathes the ether of the upper heaven:
So thy high spirit holds and governs mine;
So is my life, my being, lost in thine!

poem by Anne Lynch Botta from Poems (1848)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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To George Peabody

No Eastern tale, no annals of the past,
Of Greece or Rome, deeds such as thine relate,
Deeds kings and emperors might emulate,
That o'er thy native land new luster cast;
The land that opens all her wide domain
To the oppressed of every name and zone,
And with a spirit generous as thine own,
Pours forth the gifts her boundless stores contain;
The land that shall embalm thy memory
In love and honor, while long ages hence
The bounteous stream of thy beneficence,
Bearing along to millions yet to be
Tributes of light and love, its course shall run,
Still widening as it flows, like the broad Amazon!