All that tread, the globe are but a handful to the tribes, that slumber in its bosom.
quote by William C. Bryant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Handful Of Pain
(m - kusch l -deris)
I believe what we called a game
Is more than just a handful of pain
I still remember every hour
Every second has been hours
Far away from many burden
We met eyes without a curtain
Headless into a new sensation
Wether brain nor fear of patience
Careless we had a game to play
You crossed my way for twenty days
Why dont you just heal
The yearning that I feel?
Hey, what we called a game
Is more than just a handful of pain
We got the wrong ways
Cause I believe its more
Than just a handful of pain
We got the wrong ways
Cause I believe its more
Than just a handful of pain
Were different colours, diferent nature
Both we weer like pupil and teacher
Its a puzzle with two pieces
Still not done cause one still misses
Helpless I go through unknown stages
A chapter of life which has missing pages
Torture not owly phisical
It pains unbound, way way down
The yearning that I feel?
Hey, I believe what we called a game
Is more than just a handful of pain
We got the wrong ways
Cause I believe its more
Than just a handful of pain
We got the wrong ways
Cause I believe its more
Than just a handful of pain
Solo 1: michael
Solo 2: roland
song performed by by Helloween
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Forever Friends
On a distant domain of this globe
I know not on which crossroad
Of which latitude
And which longitude, she dwells.
What thoughts are brought
by the favorable wind
from the greatest of all empires?
What fragrance is carried
from the land of poetry and beauty
where my bosom friend for ever
dwells?
The quintessence of a divine aroma
grips me when am in the
tight tentacles of my friends'
immaculate personality.
I get a second life
of timeless longevity
as I tread and breathe the
air and listen to the whisper
of my friend coming from her abode.
As I hug the wind, the air the scent
that emanates from the soil and scenery
of your native
I get a surreal ecstasy in my soul.
Sleep
When all, and birds, and creeping beasts,
When the dark of night is deep,
From the moving wonder of their lives
Commit themselves to sleep.
Without a thought, or fear, they shut
The narrow gates of sense;
Heedless and quiet, in slumber turn
Their strength to impotence.
The transient strangeness of the earth
Their spirits no more see:
Within a silent gloom withdrawn,
They slumber in secrecy.
Two worlds they have--a globe forgot,
Wheeling from dark to light;
And all the enchanted realm of dream
That burgeons out of night.
poem by Walter de la Mare
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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With the people, for the people, by the people. I crack up when I hear it; I say, with the handful, for the handful, by the handful, cause that's what really happens.
quote by Fannie Lou Hamer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tread Careful
Tread careful
Because youre treading on my dreams.
Tread careful
Because Ive just one heart
Tread careful
Let me down slowly
Or Ill forget how to dream.
Chorus:
I wont forget anything
(I love you)
I wont forgive anyone
(do you love me? )
Tread careful
You hear the sound of my breathing
Tread careful
Because I feel this sound
Tread careful
Im falling in a glasshouse
Im trying hard to begin
Because I want it to get harder
Tread careful
Before I change my mind
Tread careful
I could surprise you
I know something you want to do.
(repeat chorus)
Tread careful
Im sure you dont care but
Tread careful
I could change your mind
Tread careful
Ive been waiting for you
There is no comfort in here.
(repeat chorus)
song performed by by Gary Numan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Handful Of Dust
Your pressed your face against my heart
I felt that you could look right through me
We live in days that have no time
We live in times that now refuse me
And somewhere out beyond his town
There lies a world that now can turn us round
And we need it and we need it
Oh got to have some thing to believe in
Ive got enough to believe in you
What can I give just to know that its true ?
But Ive gotta begin to say
Now theyve taken my pride in this way.
How can you give me your love ?
I just cant give you enough
How can you give me your trust
With a handful of dust ?
I feel to thin before your eyes
I feel so naked under open skies
I once stood tall within this town
But now the time has come to bring us down.
We must have more with his power in hand
We must believe things will go as we planned
But Ive gotta begin to say
Now theyve taken my pride in this way.
How can you give me your love ?
I just cant give you enough
How can you give me your trust
With a handful of dust,
With a handful of dust ?
Making love through electric skies
Now I know where my fortune lies
Breathe the air and feel this land
cause its slipping through me
Like dust from my hand.
How can you give me your love ?
I just cant give you enough
How can you give me your trust
With a handful of dust ?
How can you give me your love ?
I just cant give you enough
How can you give me your trust
With a handful of dust ?
How can you give me your love ?
How can you give me your love ?
Now give me your love!
How can you give me your trust
With a handful of dust ?
How can you give me your love ?
Give me
How can you give me your trust
With a handful of dust ?
song performed by by Spandau Ballet
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Sister's Lullaby
You would not slumber
If laid at my breast:
You would not slumber.
The river-flood beats
The swan from her nest:
You would not slumber.
And like that quick flood
My blood goes unguessed:
You would not slumber.
Times without number
Has called the wood quest:
Times without number.
As oft as she called
To me you were pressed:
Times without number.
Now you'd not slumber
If laid at my breast
Times without number.
O starling reed-resting,
I’ll rock you to rest:
So you will slumber.
poem by Padraic Colum
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Some tribes of birds will relieve and rear up the young and helpless, of their own and other tribes, when abandoned.
quote by William Bartram
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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[Mankind] is governed by minorities, seldom or never by majorities. It suppresses its feelings and its beliefs and follows the handful that makes the most noise. Sometimes the noisy handful is right, sometimes wrong, but no matter, the crowd follows it.
Mark Twain in The Mysterious Stranger
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A thought
She's never quite given her heart
to anyone but a few
and anyone but a few
have ne'er give their hearts too.
She's never quite given her trust
to more than a handful, I'd say
but more than a handful, for shame
never trusted her, she'd proclaim.
She's never quite figured out why,
or her reason or her gain
that she's given all her loyalty
while others, stray that way.
So this be ever so candid
and this be ever so short
for she cannot be arsed to explain it
or figure out why she ought.
poem by Ruth Walters
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Handful Of Dust
Your pressed your face against my heart
I felt that you could look right through me
we live in days that have no time
we live in times that now refuse me
and somewhere out beyond his town
there lies a world that now can turn us round
and we need it and we need it
oh got to have some thing to believe in
I've got enough to believe in you
what can I give just to know that it's true ?
But I've gotta begin to say
now they've taken my pride in this way.
How can you give me your love ?
I just can't give you enough
how can you give me your trust
with a handful of dust ?
I feel to thin before your eyes
I feel so naked under open skies
I once stood tall within this town
but now the time has come to bring us down.
We must have more with his power in hand
we must believe things will go as we planned
but I've gotta begin to say
now they've taken my pride in this way.
How can you give me your love ?
I just can't give you enough
how can you give me your trust
with a handful of dust,
with a handful of dust ?
Making love through electric skies
now I know where my fortune lies
breathe the air and feel this land
'cause it's slipping through me
like dust from my hand.
How can you give me your love ?
I just can't give you enough
how can you give me your trust
with a handful of dust ?
How can you give me your love ?
I just can't give you enough
how can you give me your trust
with a handful of dust ?
How can you give me your love ?
How can you give me your love ?
Now give me your love!
how can you give me your trust
with a handful of dust ?
How can you give me your love ?
song performed by by Spandau Ballet
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Prosaic Gift
I harvested a small handful
of beautiful dandelions
arranged them in a special way
that their mini-globe candelas
illumined a yellow aura
surrounding the nosegay cluster.
Their subtle, invisible breaths
exhale a perfumed atmosphere
that becomes irresistible.
And she who shall hold this bouquet
is impelled to whiff its essence;
to discover its true purpose;
and accept this prosaic gift
of my undying love for her.
poem by Albert Ahearn
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From several of the Indian tribes inhabiting the country bordering on Lake Erie purchases have been made of lands on conditions very favorable to the United States, and, as it is presumed, not less so to the tribes themselves.
quote by James Monroe
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Thanatopsis
To him who in the love of nature holds
Communion with her visible forms, she speaks
A various language; for his gayer hours
She has a voice of gladness, and a smile
And eloquence of beauty; and she glides
Into his darker musings, with a mild
And healing sympathy that steals away
Their sharpness ere he is aware. When thoughts
Of the last bitter hour come like a blight
Over thy spirit, and sad images
Of the stern agony, and shroud, and pall,
And breathless darkness, and the narrow house,
Make thee to shudder, and grow sick at heart;--
Go forth, under the open sky, and list
To Nature's teachings, while from all around--
Earth and her waters, and the depths of air--
Comes a still voice. Yet a few days, and thee
The all-beholding sun shall see no more
In all his course; nor yet in the cold ground,
Where thy pale form was laid, with many tears,
Nor in the embrace of ocean, shall exist
Thy image. Earth, that nourished thee, shall claim
Thy growth, to be resolved to earth again,
And, lost each human trace, surrendering up
Thine individual being, shalt thou go
To mix forever with the elements,
To be a brother to the insensible rock
And to the sluggish clod, which the rude swain
Turns with his share, and treads upon. The oak
Shall send his roots abroad, and pierce thy mold.
Yet not to thine eternal resting-place
Shalt thou retire alone, nor couldst thou wish
Couch more magnificent. Thou shalt lie down
With patriarchs of the infant world -- with kings,
The powerful of the earth -- the wise, the good,
Fair forms, and hoary seers of ages past,
All in one mighty sepulchre. The hills
Rock-ribbed and ancient as the sun, -- the vales
Stretching in pensive quietness between;
The venerable woods -- rivers that move
In majesty, and the complaining brooks
That make the meadows green; and, poured round all,
Old Ocean's gray and melancholy waste,--
Are but the solemn decorations all
Of the great tomb of man. The golden sun,
The planets, all the infinite host of heaven,
Are shining on the sad abodes of death
Through the still lapse of ages. All that tread
The globe are but a handful to the tribes
That slumber in its bosom. -- Take the wings
Of morning, pierce the Barcan wilderness,
Or lose thyself in the continuous woods
Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound,
Save his own dashings -- yet the dead are there:
And millions in those solitudes, since first
The flight of years began, have laid them down
In their last sleep -- the dead reign there alone.
So shalt thou rest -- and what if thou withdraw
In silence from the living, and no friend
Take note of thy departure? All that breathe
Will share thy destiny. The gay will laugh
When thou art gone, the solemn brood of care
Plod on, and each one as before will chase
His favorite phantom; yet all these shall leave
Their mirth and their employments, and shall come
And make their bed with thee. As the long train
Of ages glides away, the sons of men--
The youth in life's fresh spring, and he who goes
In the full strength of years, matron and maid,
The speechless babe, and the gray-headed man--
Shall one by one be gathered to thy side,
By those, who in their turn, shall follow them.
So live, that when thy summons comes to join
The innumerable caravan, which moves
To that mysterious realm, where each shall take
His chamber in the silent halls of death,
Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at night,
Scourged to his dungeon, but, sustained and soothed
By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave
Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch
About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.
poem by William Cullen Bryant
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Hesperus
Down in the street the last late hansoms go
Still westward, but with backward eyes of red
The harlot shuffles to her lonely bed;
The tall policeman pauses but to throw
A flash into the empty portico;
Then he too passes, and his lonely tread
Links all the long-drawn gas-lights on a thread
And ties them to one planet swinging low.
O Hesperus! O happy star! to bend
O'er Helen's bosom in the trancèd west--
To watch the hours heave by upon her breast
And at her parted lip for dreams attend:
If dawn defraud thee, how shall I be deem'd.
Who house within that bosom, and am dreamed?
poem by Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch
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The past history of our globe must be explained by what can be seen to be happening now. No powers are to be employed that are not natural to the globe, no action to be admitted except those of which we know the principle.
quote by James Hutton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wayward, Are You?
Lords creation,
Supreme
Realised.
Acknowledged.
Is Supreme.
Hither, Thither, Wither
Goes
Knows Not?
Where he goes
Still goes.
Ambushing paths
Ought not be tread
But
With contempt, treads
As if, else, no one will tread
Else, no one will tread.
poem by Sanjay Mehta
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We must never forget that many around the globe are denied the basic rights we enjoy as Americans. If we are to continue enjoying these privileges and freedoms we must accept our mission of expanding democracy around the globe.
quote by James Inhofe
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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