Sonnet IV
Up at his attic sill the South wind came
And days of sun and storm but never peace.
Along the town's tumultuous arteries
He heard the heart-throbs of a sentient frame:
Each night the whistles in the bay, the same
Whirl of incessant wheels and clanging cars:
For smoke that half obscured, the circling stars
Burnt like his youth with but a sickly flame.
Up to his attic came the city cries --
The throes with which her iron sinews heave --
And yet forever behind prison doors
Welled in his heart and trembled in his eyes
The light that hangs on desert hills at eve
And tints the sea on solitary shores. . . .
poem by Alan Seeger
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Walls
Some days are diamonds
Some days are rocks
Some doors are open
Some roads are blocked
Sundowns are golden
Then fade away
But if i never do nothing
I'll get you back some day
Cause you got a heart so big
It could crush this town
And i can't hold out forever
Even walls fall down
And all around your island
There's a barricade
It keeps out the danger
It holds in the pain
Sometimes you're happy
Sometimes you cry
Half of me is ocean
Half of me is sky
But you got a heart so big
It could crush this town
And i can't hold out forever
Even walls fall down
And some things are over
Some things go on
And part of me you carry
Part of me is gone
But you got a heart so big
It could crush this town
And i can't hold out forever
Even walls fall down
Baby you got a heart so big
It could crush this town
And i can't hold out forever
Even walls fall down
They fall down
song performed by by Tom Petty
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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This Town
(music: marillion lyrics: steve hogarth)
The cars leave their trails of hot & cold light inside my head
Like burned-in long exposure pictures
The wheels spin slowly backwards
Strobing in the amber light
And the rain comes down and washes my brain
But it dont get clean
This town has turned me into what I have become
This town dresses me up like a stranger
This town performs in the window like the ultimate gift
This town takes us down
I feel like Im losing you to this town
We were saving our money for half of our lives
We were saving our dreams
And we came to this place to make the chances real in the big city
But Ive been counting the days Ive been watching you change
And I can feel it dying
The noise outside takes you in its arms like a lamb to a lion
And down there somewhere among the noise
The magazine dolls and the big money boys
Move silently on their easy heels
They move silently on their greasy wheels
This town has turned me into what I have become
This town dresses you up like a stranger
This town hangs around in the doorway and tells me Im late
This town takes us down, takes us down
I feel like Im losing you to this town
The morning breaks and I watch you awake and this town takes you down away from me again
song performed by by Marillion
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Need to Love
The need to love that all the stars obey
Entered my heart and banished all beside.
Bare were the gardens where I used to stray;
Faded the flowers that one time satisfied.
Before the beauty of the west on fire,
The moonlit hills from cloister-casements viewed
Cloud-like arose the image of desire,
And cast out peace and maddened solitude.
I sought the City and the hopes it held:
With smoke and brooding vapors intercurled,
As the thick roofs and walls close-paralleled
Shut out the fair horizons of the world---
A truant from the fields and rustic joy,
In my changed thought that image even so
Shut out the gods I worshipped as a boy
And all the pure delights I used to know.
Often the veil has trembled at some tide
Of lovely reminiscence and revealed
How much of beauty Nature holds beside
Sweet lips that sacrifice and arms that yield:
Clouds, window-framed, beyond the huddled eaves
When summer cumulates their golden chains,
Or from the parks the smell of burning leaves,
Fragrant of childhood in the country lanes,
An organ-grinder's melancholy tune
In rainy streets, or from an attic sill
The blue skies of a windy afternoon
Where our kites climbed once from some grassy hill:
And my soul once more would be wrapped entire
In the pure peace and blessing of those years.
Before the fierce infection of Desire
Had ravaged all the flesh. Through starting tears
Shone that lost Paradise; but, if it did,
Again ere long the prison-shades would fall
That Youth condemns itself to walk amid,
So narrow, but so beautiful withal.
And I have followed Fame with less devotion,
And kept no real ambition but to see
Rise from the foam of Nature's sunlit ocean
My dream of palpable divinity;
And aught the world contends for to mine eye
Seemed not so real a meaning of success
As only once to clasp before I die
My vision of embodied happiness.
poem by Alan Seeger
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Ode to a Dressmaker's Dummy
Papier-mache body; blue-and-black cotton jersey cover. Metal stand. Instructions included.
-- Sears, Roebuck Catalogue
O my coy darling, still
You wear for me the scent
Of those long afternoons we spent,
The two of us together,
Safe in the attic from the jealous eyes
Of household spies
And the remote buffooneries of the weather;
So high,
Our sole remaining neighbor was the sky,
Which, often enough, at dusk,
Leaning its cloudy shoulders on the sill,
Used to regard us with a bored and cynical eye.
How like the terrified,
Shy figure of a bride
You stood there then, without your clothes,
Drawn up into
So classic and so strict a pose
Almost, it seemed, our little attic grew
Dark with the first charmed night of the honeymoon.
Or was it only some obscure
Shape of my mother's youth I saw in you,
There where the rude shadows of the afternoon
Crept up your ankles and you stood
Hiding your sex as best you could?--
Prim ghost the evening light shone through.
poem by Donald Justice
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Solitary Man
Sometimes I feel like a solitary man.
Under the night sky writing what I can.
No one else is moving or driving cars.
The world belongs to me under the stars.
While pondering in my solitude
Without a thought or plan,
Thoughts jump into the mind
Of this solitary man.
I don't know where they come from.
They are just my own surprise.
Sometimes I'd swear that they have come
Through a different set of eyes.
In prison I know that solitary
Can drive a person mad.
But in those I once sent there,
For the solitude they seem glad.
The Lord needed His solitude
For at one time forty days.
And again when in the garden,
Where for the souls of men He prayed.
So in my time of solitude
I also have time to pray.
It's when I feel the closest,
To Him in my night each day!
poem by Robert Edgar Burns
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A Light In The Attic
There's a light on in the attic.
Thought the house is dark and shuttered,
I can see a flickerin' flutter,
And I know what it's about.
There's a light on in the attic.
I can see it from the outside.
And I know you're on the inside... lookin' out.
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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How can time justify it's brazen desire
How can time justify it's brazen desire
When it's obtuse wheels spin less and less dreams?
The callow youth knows more than aged mans mire
For in his heart there is no doubt the means.
Ideal lowered is a life's wasted lamp
It's sickly glow a waning spirit lights,
Burnt low it lies in feeble dull encamp
Crushed before the unfold days cruel sights.
But youth stands bold before the wind so will
Change many times to mock it's many cants.
For youth uses change with an easy skill
While ages mind creaks along and rants:
'Where did my dreams go wrong? ' For wrong they went,
And dreams abandoned will never relent.
poem by Paul Anthony
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Children With Soap Bubbles
Like smoke the bubbles whirl up
in the wind’s frolicking game
hopping like horses that gallop
and other children have got to look out
or their eyes are going to burn.
Like smoke the bubbles whirl up
against the arms and heads of others
before they heave into the air,
hopping like horses that gallop
with children blowing over a soapy soup
soap-bubble after soap-bubble burst,
like smoke the bubbles whirl up
like balls kicked off by the wind
when mothers scold their dirty children,
hopping like horses that gallop
and later an adult looks after them
to set rules for the game,
like smoke the bubbles whirl up
hopping like horses that gallop.
poem by Gert Strydom
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In the Moonlight
The moon is bright, and the winds are laid, and the river is roaring by;
Orion swings, with his belted lights low down in the western sky;
North and south from the mountain gorge to the heart of the silver plain
There’s many an eye will see no sleep till the east grows bright again;
There’s many a hand will toil to-night, from the centre down to the sea;
And I’m far from the men I used to know—and my love is far from me.
Where the broad flood eddies the dredge is moored to the beach of shingle white,
And the straining cable whips the stream in a spray of silver light;
The groaning buckets bear their load, and the engine throbs away,
And the wash pours red on the turning screen that knows not night or day;
For there’s many an ounce of gold to save, from the gorge to the shining sea—
And there’s many a league of the bare brown hills between my love and me.
Where the lines of gorse are parched and dry, and the sheaves are small and thin,
The engine beats and the combine sings to the drays that are leading in,
For they’re thrashing out of the stook to-night, and the plain is as bright as day,
And the fork-tines flash as the sheaves are turned on the frame of the one-horse dray;
For many a hand will toil to-night, from the mountains down to the sea;—
But I’m far from the lips of the girl I love, and the heart that beats for me.
The trappers are out on the hills to-night, and the sickly lantern-shine
Is mocking the gleam of the silver moon in the scrub on the long trap-line;
The tallies are big on the rock-strewn spur, and the rattling clink of the chain
Comes weirdly mixed from the moon-bright hill with the whistling shriek of pain;
For many a hand will toil to-night where the tussocks are waving free;—
But it’s over the hills and over the plain to the heart that beats for me.
The stars are bright, and the night is still, and the river is singing by,
And many a face is upward turned to gaze at the moon’s bright eye.
North and south, from the forest deeps to the heart of the silver plain,
There’s many an eye will see no sleep till the east grows bright again;
There’s many a hand will toil to-night by shining land and sea.
O moonlight, bear my message of love to the heart that beats for me.
poem by David McKee Wright
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The Retreat From Moscow
Sad Moscow, thy fate do I see,
Fire! fire! in the city all cry;
Like quails from the eagle all flee,
Escape in a moment or die.
It looks like the battle of Troy,
The storm rises higher and higher;
The scene of destruction all hearts must annoy,
The whirlwinds, the smoke, and the fire.
The dread conflagration rolls forth,
Augmenting the rage of the wind,
Which blows it from south unto north,
And leaves but the embers behind.
It looks like Gomorrah; the flame
Is moving still nigher and nigher,
Aloud from all quarters the people proclaim,
The whirlwinds, the smoke, and the fire.
A dead fumigation now swells,
A blue circle darkens the air,
With tones as the pealing of bells,
Farewell to the brave and the fair.
O Moscow, thou city of grace,
Consign'd to a dread burning pyre,
From morning to ev'ning with sorrow I trace
The wild winds, the smoke, and the fire.
The dogs in the kennel all howl,
The wether takes flight with the ox,
Appal'd on the wing is the fowl,
The pigeon deserting her box.
With a heart full of pain, in the night
Mid hillocks and bogs I retire,
Through lone, deadly vallies I steer by its light,
The wild storm, the smoke, and the fire.
Though far the crash breaks on my ear,
The stars glimmer dull in the sky,
The shrieks of the women I hear,
The fall of the kingdom is nigh.
heaven, when earth is no more,
And all things in nature expire,
May I thus, with safety, keep distant before
The whirlwinds, the smoke, and the fire.
poem by George Moses Horton
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Fatima
O LOVE, Love, Love! O withering might!
O sun, that from thy noonday height
Shudderest when I strain my sight,
Throbbing thro' all thy heat and light,
Lo, falling from my constant mind,
Lo, parch'd and wither'd, deaf and blind,
I whirl like leaves in roaring wind.
Last night I wasted hateful hours
Below the city's eastern towers:
I thirsted for the brooks, the showers:
I roll'd among the tender flowers:
I crush'd them on my breast, my mouth;
I look'd athwart the burning drouth
Of that long desert to the south.
Last night, when some one spoke his name,
From my swift blood that went and came
A thousand little shafts of flame
Were shiver'd in my narrow frame.
O Love, O fire! once he drew
With one long kiss my whole soul thro'
My lips, as sunlight drinketh dew.
Before he mounts the hill, I know
He cometh quickly: from below
Sweet gales, as from deep gardens, blow
Before him, striking on my brow.
In my dry brain my spirit soon,
Down-deepening from swoon to swoon,
Faints like a daled morning moon.
The wind sounds like a silver wire,
And from beyond the noon a fire
Is pour'd upon the hills, and nigher
The skies stoop down in their desire;
And, isled in sudden seas of light,
My heart, pierced thro' with fierce delight,
Bursts into blossom in his sight.
My whole soul waiting silently,
All naked in a sultry sky,
Droops blinded with his shining eye:
I will possess him or will die.
I will grow round him in his place,
Grow, live, die looking on his face,
Die, dying clasp'd in his embrace.
poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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When You Strolled Along My Heart.!
When you strolled along
the streets of my heart
the southern breeze-
did it not shower stars in billions
all along your paths?
If alone the seeds of your eyes
to fall upon my heart-
would not my mind all at once
ascend into deep space
to pluck shiny stars
to garland your fairy soul?
In the momentary tremors
at the corners of your eyes
my aeons went tottering in their strides!
The thirst that welled up in my heart
longed deep for the droplets of
your sidelong glance!
My heart that was parched into desert
by the heat of my lust-
would it not dance in ecstasy
erupting into the flowers of love?
In all the land that my darling walked
the horse of my mind
would walk in pride with its head erect!
Does a maid need any language?
Tell me..who could answer her eyes?
**** **** ****
Who told you are a girl?
Must you be called a guillotine
that beheaded my soul
by the sharp blades of your eyes!
Lo..! by my momentary hesitations
my aeons were burnt to ashes!
poem by Sundaram Chandrakalaadhar
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I Do No Tours
Where
Do you get all of this 'stuff' from?
'From the attic'
From the attic?
But
I don't see any attic
'And you wont
I am the only one that has the key
And in my 'home'
I do no tours
I do guests
And no tours do those guests get.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Changing Light
The changing light
at San Francisco
is none of your East Coast light
none of your
pearly light of Paris
The light of San Francisco
is a sea light
an island light
And the light of fog
blanketing the hills
drifting in at night
through the Golden Gate
to lie on the city at dawn
And then the halcyon late mornings
after the fog burns off
and the sun paints white houses
with the sea light of Greece
with sharp clean shadows
making the town look like
it had just been painted
But the wind comes up at four o'clock
s weeping the hills
And then the veil of light of early evening
And then another scrim
when the new night fog
floats in
And in that vale of light
the city drifts
anchorless upon the ocean
poem by Lawrence Ferlinghetti
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At Currabwee
Every night at Currabwee
Little men with leather hats
Mend the boots of Faery
From the tough wings of the bats.
So my mother told to me,
And she is wise you will agree. .
Louder than a cricket's wing
All night long their hammer's glee
Times the merry songs they sing
Of Ireland glorious and free.
So I heard Joseph Plunkett say,
You know he heard them but last May.
And when the night is very cold
They warm their hands against the light
Of stars that make the waters gold
Where they are labouring all the night.
So Pearse said, and he knew the truth,
Among the stars he spent his youth.
And I, myself, have often heard
Their singing as the stars went by,
For am I not of those who reared
The banner of old Ireland high,
From Dublin town to Turkey's shores,
And where the Vardar loudly roars?
poem by Francis Ledwidge
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Tonight And Forever
(simon/schwatrz)
Ive waited years
For you tonight
My faith in love has been my guiding light
I heard you voice
I read your heart
I fell in love with you though we were miles apart
Tonight and forever
Tonight and forever i am yours
O sister make
My wedding bed
Tie a bunch of wild thorn branches
At the head
And scatter roses on the floor
Three bright stars shining at our door
Tonight and forever
Tonight and forever
Tonight and forever, i am yours
And a song on the wind
Rising from the sea
A fire so cold
A flame so new
No, i could never ask for more than you
The moon is high
The tide is in
Now the night is ours
Let the dance begin
Tonight and forever
Tonight and forever, i am yours
song performed by by Carly Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tonight & Forever
(simon/schwatrz)
Ive waited years
For you tonight
My faith in love has been my guiding light
I heard you voice
I read your heart
I fell in love with you though we were miles apart
Tonight and forever
Tonight and forever I am yours
O sister make
My wedding bed
Tie a bunch of wild thorn branches
At the head
And scatter roses on the floor
Three bright stars shining at our door
Tonight and forever
Tonight and forever
Tonight and forever, I am yours
And a song on the wind
Rising from the sea
A fire so cold
A flame so new
No, I could never ask for more than you
The moon is high
The tide is in
Now the night is ours
Let the dance begin
Tonight and forever
Tonight and forever, I am yours
song performed by by Carly Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rags & Old Iron
Norman curtis, oscar brown jr
Rags old iron rags old iron
All he was buying was just rags and old iron
I heard that old rag man now making his rounds
He came right to my alley lord with sorrowful sounds
Crying rags old iron and pulling his cart
Ask him how much hed give me for my broken heart
Rags old iron rags old iron
All he was buying was just rags and old iron
So I asked that old rag man how much he would pay
For a heart that was broken baby when you went away
For a burnt out old love light that no longer beams
And a couple of slightly used second hand dreams
Rags old iron rags old iron
All he was buying was just rags and old iron
For those big empty promises you used to make
For those memories of you that are no longer sweet
I wish he could haul them off down the street
Rags old iron rags old iron
All he was buying was just rags and old iron
When love doesnt last tell me what is it worth
It was once mamas most precious possession on earth
When I asked that old rag man if hed like to buy
He just shook his head and continued to cry
Rags old iron rags old iron
All he was buying was just rags and old iron
Rags old iron rags old iron
Rags old iron rags old iron rags old iron
song performed by by Nina Simone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Both The Shores Of My Heart - Original By Rabindranath Tagore
Both the shores of my heart
And my eyes are overflowing!
Now wherever I look
I can't recognize anything!
The attraction is inside
So my heart-river has tide
Today there is so strong storm
I can't build a dam to guide!
Why is it happening in new youth?
Suddenly which wind carries which truth?
My heart is indifferent
Why it has disappointment
My deep desires and sorrow
Are hard to control my friend!
poem by Asif Andalib
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For Cindy
The season's first frost
clashed with her innocence...
The innocence shown in dark brown eyes.
That night I heard the wind cry for her.
...and I cry now
the wind cries...
and I cry.
I see her innocence smiling in the night sky.
Under the sky, I wonder why...why not I?
I wish for her friendly embrace...once more...forever
Only to have her Mother's tear on my shoulder
on the rainy afternoon.
...But we shall meet again.
I will embrace her once more...
forever...soon.
I heard the wind cry for Cindy...
The wind cries for Cindy.
We all cry for Cindy.
...for Cindy
poem by M.Dean Everett
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