Snow Maiden
She hailed from a very distant country,
Nocturnal child of ancient times;
She had no kin to greet her entry
Not even skies with a welcome shine.
And just the Neva’s faithful sentry -
The sphinx with an indented face -
Under the blizzard, fierce and wintry
‘s reminiscent of her birthplace.
And when the tempest showers snowflakes
Upon her shoulders, hair, and breast,
Nocturnal Egypt wakes her heartache
In the midst of northern fog and mist.
My hometown, gray and distant,
Its wind and chill, and gloom and rain,
With faith -- so unexplained and fervent --
She had received as her domain.
She fell in love with regal buildings,
At rest in the stillness of the night.
And peaceful cozy light in the windows
Became one with her inner sight.
She recognized its morning frown,
Its mansions, lights, and snowy twirl.
This whole unfathomable town,
She knew, unfathomable girl.
poem by Aleksandr Aleksandrovich Blok
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Behind the Bar - a Desecration of Tennyson
Gray eyes and gamboge hair!
One barmaid of 'The Crown'!
Ah, will that beaming siren still be there
When I go next to town? -
When over-night much spirit I had quaffed,
How I was wont to bless
That nymph who, smiling, mixed my morning draught
Of B. and S.!
That holiday has gone!
Now wintry breezes blow
In fitful gusts about my hut upon
The Warrego.
Hard times foretell that for a 'down-South' spree
The day is distant far;
And I no more, in Sydney town, may see
That girl behind the bar.
poem by Harry 'Breaker' Harbord Morant
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My Hometown
I was eight years old and running with a dime in my hand
Into the bus stop to pick up a paper for my old man
Id sit on his lap in that big old buick and steer as we drove through town
Hed tousle my hair and say son take a good look around
This is your hometown, this is your hometown
This is your hometown, this is your hometown
In '65 tension was running high at my high school
There was a lot of fights between the black and white
There was nothing you could do
Two cars at a light on a saturday night in the back seat there was a gun
Words were passed in a shotgun blast
Troubled times had come to my hometown
My hometown, my hometown, my hometown
Now main streets whitewashed windows and vacant stores
Seems like there aint nobody wants to come down here no more
Theyre closing down the textile mill across the railroad tracks
Foreman says these jobs are going boys and they aint coming back to
Your hometown, your hometown, your hometown, your hometown
Last night me and kate we laid in bed talking about getting out
Packing up our bags maybe heading south
Im thirty-five we got a boy of our own now
Last night I sat him up behind the wheel and said son take a good
Look around
This is your hometown
song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cold Desert Night
Somewhere
out in the cold desert night-
A lone coyote calls out,
breaking the stillness
of the early morning twilight.
My breath visible and stale-
I hold it in for a moment in silence, listening-
Before I finally exhale.
The coyote's cry goes unanswered,
yet can be heard from miles away-
His sad song of solitude,
keeping the unknown at bay.
A sudden chill moves through me,
causing me to shiver.
These words, revealed to me,
and unto you, I deliver.
The moon shines bright upon the desert floor,
the coyote repeats his cry-
He is answered with a distant howl,
it seems that we're not alone anymore.
The cold desert night is full of somber solitude,
and yet, it's full of nocturnal life.
The morning's chill gets to me-
So I return to the warmth of my bed,
and the waiting arms of my wife.
poem by Kelly Seale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Distant Light
Distant light flickers an invitation of hope.
In reaching it, there will be sanctification.
Dimness that surrounds the eyes
will be forgotten.
Black holes that open the heart
will be discarded.
Let the distant light come closer.
Let the distant light be a friend.
Shallow water cannot drown soul.
It can only hinder the passage.
Dampening the spirit as it frolics
like a moonbeam across the mind.
Distance lends unhappiness.
Let the distant light shine bright.
Let the distant light be a guide.
In closets of blackness the hands
seek an opening in the shadows.
They find nothing, but the eyes
focus on a distant light that
calls like a radio in the night.
Let the distant light embrace.
Let the distant light be closer.
In an emptiness of broken glass
there is a pattern to salvation.
Frame the light like fire in the glance,
walk towards it. Find escape.
Let the distant light be strong.
Let the distant light shine forever.
What is the distant light that shines?
What is its meaning in a journey?
This is an answer not easily explained.
This is a hope not readily known.
Let the distant light continue.
Let the distant light always shine.
poem by Chris G. Vaillancourt
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Man Of Miracles
Written by james young, raymond brandle, dennis deyoung
Lead vocals by james young
He was a man of miracles
Fighting the solar windstorm
A winged horse guides his way
Oracle of the ancient midnight
Calls forth everlasting pain
And I know, yes I know
He was a man of miracles
Riding golden meteorites
Ruler of distant galaxies
Born of the northern lights
Of the northern lights
Sorcerer of the dark moon
Who dare incur his rage?
First child of the scorpion
Prophet of the crystal age
And I know, yes I know
He was a man of miracles
Riding golden meteorites
Ruler of distant galaxies
Born of the northern lights
Of the northern lights
He was a man of miracles
song performed by by Styx
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Gulls
When the mist drives past and the wind blows high,
And the harbour lights are dim--
See where they circle, and dip and fly,
The grey free-lances of wind and sky,
To the water's distant rim!
Like spirits possessed of a fierce delight,
A courage that cannot fail,
They face the breakers--they face the night--
The mad storm-horses are silvery white,
They ride through the bitter gale!
They seem like the souls of the long, long lost,
Who breasted the ocean-main--
Vikings whose vessels were tempest-tossed,
Voyagers who sailed, whatever the cost,
And never came home again.
Or stranger and wilder fancy--it seems
As I hear their wind-torn cry,
No birds fly there through the sun's last gleams,
But the wraiths of hopes--the ghosts of dreams
That the old sea-gods saw die.
When the mist drives past and the wind blows high,
And the harbour lights are dim--
See where they circle, and dip and fly,
The grey free-lances of wind and sky,
To the far horizon's rim.
poem by Virna Sheard
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Ode To My Beloved
Pray tell me why,
She’s the apple of my eye?
The sweetest cherry of them all,
My fervent heart she doth enthrall
Creating art together in my dreams,
We sculpt ‘n paint romantic scenes
We travel to distant stars above,
Soar at light speed, fueled by love
Cherubs ‘n Angels invite us to play,
On Heavenly playground, I daresay
At last we touch upon firm ground,
Reluctant to be earthbound
Fun we’ve had with no remorse
Repeat tomorrow night? Of course!
Alas the morning sun stirs me awake,
I pray nocturnal trip wasn't fake
poem by Ray Lucero
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Unfathomable Love
Especially in the best of seasons
When, in spite of all adverse reasons
My subconscious brings to the fore
How I couldn't possibly ask for more
These thoughts bring a yin-yang feeling
Of joyous gratitude and sorrowed keening
Of Wonderment, at His love's unfathomable natures
Of Disappointment at my somewhat irredeemable features
Of amazement at its encompassing powers
Of Wretchedness at times, because of its abundant showers
Of stupefaction at constancy that is nothing if not priceless
Of dissatisfaction at devotion best described as mindless
Behold, one and all this unfathomable love
The reality of it appreciated, not nearly enough
poem by Marilyn Odeon
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Mary Danced With Soldiers
She'd slip away each day with the dimming light
And with the sweetest smile she'd kiss the child goodnight
At the mill she'd work her fingers till they were raw
For the sake of her son and the daddy he never saw
Mary danced with soldiers
She stepped a light quadrille
Shawl across her shoulders
To keep away the chill, to keep away the chill
It was a rebel boy who brought her joy they say
Though the years had passed the memories stood fast each day
Before a bullet crushed the life of their romance
He gave her a shawl and a parasol from France
Mary danced with soldiers
She stepped a light quadrille
Shawl across her shoulders
To keep away the chill, to keep away the chill
They came around to the tavern in town that night
And with silent cries Mary never tried to fight
They cut her hair and left her body torn
Her spirit slipped away before the dawn
Mary danced with soldiers
But now her body's still
Shawl across her shoulders
To keep away the chill
Mary danced with soldiers
She stepped a light quadrille
Shawl across her shoulders
To keep away the chill, to keep away the chill
song performed by by Nitty Gritty Dirt Band
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Triolet: Snowflakes
The snowflakes of the winter night
Crown the land with regal mien;
The driving wind seems to incite
The snowflakes of the winter night
To obfuscate the lunar light.
What purpose lurks behind this scene -
The snowflakes of the winter night
Which crown the land with regal mien?
poem by Richard St. Clair
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Sun Showers
Arthur freed / nacio herb brown
Sun showers
Never mind the rain
The sun will shine again
Through sun showers
In a little while
They sky above will srnile
Like luster that follows your kiss
Dark clouds of sorrow
Will soon be a sunny tomorrow
While sun flowers
Raise their happy eyes
Up to the flaming skies
Then sun showers
Leave us as they follow
Rainbows in our hearts
The gray skies soon will clear
My dear
While sun showers are here
song performed by by Billie Holiday
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Snowflakes Of Love
Written by Toni Braxton, Keri Lewis, Isaac Hayes
On this day, snowy day
Let me thank you for the joy you're giving me...
I'm so happy...
I have snowflakes of love smiling down on me
winter bliss when we kiss
Every wish my lips could see
I'm so happy...
I have snowflakes of love smiling down on me
Snowy day
Would you please take me away
Away with you...
Hold me so closely
Like the moonlight lights the sky...
In my dreams of soft winter breeze
Eases my mind, but when I wake
there's nothing but leaves
Still, I'm happy...
I have snowflakes of love smiling down on me
Oh, how I imagine the day we met
And those tingles from those little butterflies...
Reminiscing, I get so happy
I just break down and cry
Candlelight burning bright
Underneath a cool, starry night
You and me, endlessly, it's the greatest gift
that love could give to me
On this day, snowy day
Let me thank you for the joy you've given to me...
I'm so happy...
To have snowflakes of love smiling down on me
song performed by by Toni Braxton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Going Under
I hear the door slam shut, so I know that youre home
Youve been out all night, Ive been here alone
And Ive been wondering if youre the same person I knew
The bright lights that shine in your eyes, they make me blind
I hear a footstep on the stairs so I know that youre near
Youve returned from pursuing your nocturnal career
And I dont ask where youve been, with who, or if theyre your friend
cause I dont really want to know right now, I dont know when I will again
Chorus
Going under, drifting down, going under
And I know youve still got a ways to go down before
We can rise back up into the light
Were going under, drifting down...
I hear you coughing in the hall so I know youre all right
It will be morning soon, through the gloom I see daylight
But in this room right now I am alone, I am unsure
I dont know what you feel anymore and it scares me so
Chorus
song performed by by 13 Engines
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Student's Serenade
I have slept upon my couch,
But my spirit did not rest,
For the labours of the day
Yet my weary soul opprest;
And, before my dreaming eyes
Still the learned volumes lay,
And I could not close their leaves,
And I could not turn away.
But I oped my eyes at last,
And I heard a muffled sound;
'Twas the night-breeze, come to say
That the snow was on the ground.
Then I knew that there was rest
On the mountain's bosom free;
So I left my fevered couch,
And I flew to waken thee!
I have flown to waken thee
For, if thou wilt not arise,
Then my soul can drink no peace
From these holy moonlight skies.
And, this waste of virgin snow
To my sight will not be fair,
Unless thou wilt smiling come,
Love, to wander with me there.
Then, awake! Maria, wake!
For, if thou couldst only know
How the quiet moonlight sleeps
On this wilderness of snow,
And the groves of ancient trees,
In their snowy garb arrayed,
Till they stretch into the gloom
Of the distant valley's shade;
I know thou wouldst rejoice
To inhale this bracing air;
Thou wouldst break thy sweetest sleep
To behold a scene so fair.
O'er these wintry wilds, alone,
Thou wouldst joy to wander free;
And it will not please thee less,
Though that bliss be shared with me.
poem by Anne Brontë from Poems by Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell (1846)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Good Morning Heartache
Written by drake-higginbotham-fisher
Woh, woh, ha, yeah, hmm---, oh
Good morning heartache, you old gloomy site
Good morning heartache
Thought we said goodbye last night
I tossed and turned until it seemed that you had gone
But here you are with the dawn
Hoo, wish Id forget you, but youre here to stay, yeah
It seems I met ya, when my love had gone away
I start each day out just by saying to you
Good morning heartache, whats new
Stop haunting me now, cant shake you no how
Why dont you just leave me alone
Ive got those monday blues
Those straight through sunday blues
Oh, good morning heartache, here we go
Here we go, here we go again, well
Good morning heartache
Youre the one who knew me when
I guess I might as well get used to you hanging around
Good morning heartache, I see youre back in town
Good morning heartache, why dont ya sit on down, sit down ------
song performed by by Natalie Cole
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Sparrow's Fall
Too frail to soar -- a feeble thing --
It fell to earth with fluttering wing;
But God, who watches over all,
Beheld that little sparrow's fall.
'Twas not a bird with plumage gay,
Filling the air with its morning lay;
'Twas not an eagle bold and strong,
Borne on the tempest's wing along.
Only a brown and weesome thing,
With drooping head and listless wing;
It could not drift beyond His sight
Who marshals the splendid stars of night.
Its dying chirp fell on His ears,
Who tunes the music of the spheres,
Who hears the hungry lion's call,
And spreads a table for us all.
Its mission of song at last is done,
No more will it greet the rising sun;
That tiny bird has found a rest
More calm than its mother's downy breast
Oh, restless heart, learn thou to trust
In God, so tender, strong and just;
In whose love and mercy everywhere
His humblest children have a share.
If in love He numbers ev'ry hair,
Whether the strands be dark or fair,
Shall we not learn to calmly rest,
Like children, on our Father's breast?
poem by Frances Ellen Watkins Harper
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Inspired by Issa - Distant sight
distant sight -
a light in the rhythm
of my heart
distant sight
a light begs me to come near
in the rhythm of my heart
distant sight
a light flickering to
the rhythm of my heart
inspired by
distant sight-
in withered fields
a little house's lamp
-Issa,1793
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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All Different Girls
Pretty girl, who is to blame
Frightened girl, they don't know her name
Saddened girl, who cries at night
Distant girl, who's out of sight
Psycho girl, with scars on her wrists
Fairytale girl, who don't exist
Silent girl, without a name
Ignored girl, who's filled with shame
Faking girl, with plastic smiles
Freakish girl, from a thousand miles
Emotionless girl, cant feel much pain
Darkened girl, who brings the rain
Crying girl, tears start to flood
Psychotic girl, who drains her blood
Hated girl, who no one loves
Such a weak girl, who's no longer though
Angry girl, there is no cure
Happy girl, she is no more
Hidden girl, she covers her scars
Prisoned girl, lived behind her life's bars
Crazy girl, who bleeds so much
Lonely girl, who's out of touch
Stupid girl, who no one likes
Beaten girl, who always fights
Pretty girl, don't give up now
Suicide girl, there's someway, somehow
Scared girl, don't be afraid
Distant girl, don't go away
Morbid girl, don't die tonight
Worried girl, it'll be alright
Stoner girl, tonight she'll smoke her sorrow
Alcoholic girl, she'll drink tomorrow
Furious girl, who has no more faith
Depressed girl, who cries and aches
Fallen girl, with broken wings
Disturbed girl, fell off the swing
Pretty girl, you are my friend
Aching girl, just try to mend
Ugly girl, not like before
Beautiful girl, she is no more
Pretty girl, who made her life end
Pretty girl...no...Not again..
poem by Bikramjyoti Kashyop
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Autumn...Will Never Be The Same
FOR: J.L. With Love
It was a cool, July, and it was dusk.
The gentle winds that blew,
brushed the Autumn of your hair.
And a mist, as like in Autumn, touch
your face, as I stood still.
I could not help but wonder, as in Autumn,
are the bees yet in their hive? Snuggled
closely, in their Autumn winter bed.?
An Autumn sun, hid behind the clouds above.
It knew not of this July, only of Autumn, in the air.
It knew of flowers drooping, their brightness,
now fading and curled. It knew of falling leaves,
and colors still so bright. A lone tree against a colored
sky, seemed naked in this July. With all of
this, and some to go, it must be Autumn...Autumn...
Autumn, for this I know.
What of the woman, with the hair of Autumn?
Her eyes of Autumn color and colored clothes
the same. It can not be July for
Autumn is abound.
Autumns every where. Circling sparrows in sky
above, swoop down, in hunt, for the final seeds
of Autumn. How could this be July,
or has the sparrows lost their way?
Surely, this is Autumn, for the chill is in they air.
And, isn't that an Autumn grass, below that
old oak tree? As the gentle Autumn winds,
carry silence for the day.
Now the mist of Autumn, are falling drops of rain.
No, not a shower in July, but an Autumn day,
now cast in gloom, against a steel gray sky.
Autumn, shall never be the same, since
that Autumn day in mid July.
The Piper On The Hills
A CHILD'S SONG
There sits a piper on the hill
Who pipes the livelong day,
And when he pipes both loud and shrill,
The frightened people say
‘The wind, the wind is blowing up,
'Tis rising to a gale.’
The women hurry to the shore
To watch some distant sail.
The wind, the wind, the wind, the wind,
Is blowing to a gale.
But when he pipes all sweet and low,
The piper on the hill,
I hear the merry women go
With laughter, loud and shrill
‘The wind, the wind is coming south,
'Twill blow a gentle day.’
They gather on the meadow-land,
To toss the yellow hay.
The wind, the wind, the wind, the wind,
Is blowing south to-day.
And in the morn, when winter comes,
To keep the piper warm,
The little Angels shake their wings
To make a feather storm
‘The snow, the snow has come at last!’
The happy children call,
And ‘ring around’ they dance in glee,
And watch the snowflakes fall.
The wind, the wind, the wind, the wind,
Has spread a snowy pall.
But when at night the piper plays,
I have not any fear,
Because God's windows open wide
The pretty tune to hear;
And when each crowding spirit looks,
From its star window-pane,
A watching mother may behold
Her little child again.
The wind, the wind, the wind, the wind,
May blow her home again.
poem by Dora Sigerson Shorter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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