When in the long-drawn avenues of Thought
When in the long-drawn avenues of Thought
I halt, and look before me and behind,
And seek what erst I all too little sought,
Some spot secure of rest, I do not find.
Retrace my steps I dare not, lest each nook
I late rejected should reject me now,
And sweetest arbours, restlessly forsook,
No more be prone their leafage to allow.
So to the untrod distance do I strain,
Which seemeth ever further to extend;
Desiring oft, in irritable pain,
Premature sleep would bring that settled End,
When I shall know it all, or else forget
This far too little which for more doth fret.
poem by Alfred Austin
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Long Way Home
Its hard to say from where you stand
Exactly when it all began
But someplace theres a point you cross the line
You see the tears than stain your face
Mirrored in your make-up case
And know its time to leave this place behind
Chorus:
Its a long way home
Its a long way home
Its a long way home
Trying to retrace your steps
All too easy to forget
Just which way to go
Its a long way home
Outside the sky is threatening
You slowly gather up your things
And wonder how you ever will explain
Walking out so self-assured
Yeah, you were gonna change the world
Walking back, a child in the rain
Chorus:
Its a long way home
Its a long way home
Its a long way home
How can you retrace the steps
Youve been trying to forget
Still its time to go
And its a long way home
And if you lose your way
Just keep your eye upon that endless broken line
Throw bag beneath the bus
Sit among the curious
It happens to the best of us, you know
Chorus:
Its a long way home
Its a long way home
Its a long way home
Starting to retrace your steps
You learn to live with your regrets
Next stop heaven knows
Its a long way home
Such a long way
Its a long way home
song performed by by Vanessa Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Garden of Sin
I know the garden-close of sin,
The cloying fruits, the noxious flowers,
I long have roamed the walks and bowers,
Desiring what no man shall win:
A secret place to shelter in,
When soon or late the angry powers
Come down to seek the wretch who cowers,
Expecting judgment to begin.
The pleasure long has passed away
From flowers and fruit, each hour I dread
My doom will find me where I lie.
I dare not go, I dare not stay.
Without the walks, my hope is dead,
Within them, I myself must die.
poem by Robert Fuller Murray
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Happier Out Look
Let happier be your out look
Let you find joy in every nook
Let you seek for the pleasure
That comes with fain as a treasure
For life is really another name
Of pain and trouble in life's lane
So forget the tears and learn to smile
That can spread joy for a while
So for that have a happier out look
And let you find joy in every nook.
poem by Seema Chowdhury
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Easier To Run
Its easier to run
Replacing this pain with something long
Its so much easier to run
Replace all this pain here all alone
Something has been taken from deep inside of me
The secret Ive been locked away where one could never see
Look so different, never show,
They never go away
Like moving pictures in my head
? ?
[mikes part]
If I could change I would
Take all the pain I would
Retrace every wrong move that I made I would
If I could stand up and take the blame I would
If I could take all the shame and the pain I would
If I could change I would
Take all the pain I would
Retrace every wrong move that I made I would
If I could stand up and take the blame I would
I would take all the shame and the blame
Its easier to run replacing this pain with something long
Its so much easier to run
Replace all this pain here all alone
Some things I remember but thought the soul bypassed
Bringing back these memories I wish I didnt have
Sometimes I think Im letting go and never looking back
I never really thought so, I never realized?
[mikes part]
If I could change I would
Take all the pain I would
Retrace every wrong move that I made I would
If I could stand up and take the blame I would
If I could take all the shame and the pain I would
If I could change I would
Take all the pain I would
Retrace every wrong move that I made I would
If I could stand up and take the blame I would
I would take all the shame and the blame
Just watch it in the sun
All of the helplessness as ive
Pretending I dont feel misplaced
Its so much simpler to change
Its easier to run replacing this pain with something long
Its so much easier to run
Replace all this pain here all alone
Its easier to run
If I could change I would
Take all the pain I would
Retrace every wrong move that I made
Its easier to run
If I could change I would
Take all the pain I would
Retrace every wrong move that I made I would
If I could stand up and take the blame I would
I would take all the shame with me
song performed by by Linkin Park
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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At A House In Hampstead Sometime The Dwelling Of John Keats
O poet, come you haunting here
Where streets have stolen up all around,
And never a nightingale pours one
Full-throated sound?
Drawn from your drowse by the Seven famed Hills,
Thought you to find all just the same
Here shining, as in hours of old,
If you but came?
What will you do in your surprise
At seeing that changes wrought in Rome
Are wrought yet more on the misty slope
One time your home?
Will you wake wind-wafts on these stairs?
Swing the doors open noisily?
Show as an umbraged ghost beside
Your ancient tree?
Or will you, softening, the while
You further and yet further look,
Learn that a laggard few would fain
Preserve your nook? . . .
-Where the Piazza steps incline,
And catch late light at eventide,
I once stood, in that Rome, and thought,
''Twas here he died.'
I drew to a violet-sprinkled spot,
Where day and night a pyramid keeps
Uplifted its white hand, and said,
''Tis there he sleeps.'
Pleasanter now it is to hold
That here, where sang he, more of him
Remains than where he, tuneless, cold,
Passed to the dim.
July 1920
poem by Thomas Hardy
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Song #5.
Never remember what love's been,
That is the sorrow the world knows;
Forget it, or the heart too keen
Will ache and ache to the weary close.
Harden the heart even to love,
Or the change in the tender eyes
Will more than hate or passion move
The tears to fall, the wrath to rise.
Once the change comes, dare to forget
The sweetest truth you've dreamed of her,
Or the heart will so fret and fret
That it will have no comforter.
Turn not on love in the heart's despair,
For e'en her smiles were bitter then,
When all her faith is light as air,
And all her ways are hers again.
poem by Robert Crawford
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New American Classic
You've got to get better.
Say it's all in your head.
We could live through these letters
Or forget it all together.
See the months they don't matter.
It's the days I can't take
When the hours move to minutes and I'm seconds away.
Just ask the question.
Come untie the knot.
Say you won't care,
say you won't care.
Retrace the steps
As if we forgot.
Say you won't care,
Say you won't care.
We try to avoid it,
But there's not a doubt,
And there's one thing I can do nothing about.
Well all that we need is just a reaction,
It's too much to ask for when there's no attraction anymore
If chasing our dreams is just a distraction,
I want to remember when I know that I can't go back.
Just ask the question.
Come untie the knot.
Say you won't care,
say you won't care.
Retrace the steps
As if we forgot.
Say you won't care,
Say you won't care.
We try to avoid it (Try to avoid it),
But there's not a doubt,
And there's one thing I can do nothing,
There's one thing I can do nothing,
There's one thing I can do nothing about.
(Finally)
Just ask the question (Just ask the question).
Come untie the knot.
Say you won't care,
Say you won't care.
And retrace the steps (Retrace the steps)
as if we forgot.
Say you won't care.
Say you won't care.
We try to avoid it (Try to avoid it),
But there's not a doubt
And there's one thing I can do nothing,
There's one thing I can do nothing,
There's one thing I can do nothing about.
song performed by by Taking Back Sunday
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The BS-ness of a Theory
Prone to lie.
Prone to seek alibis...
To coverup and deny.
Prone to articulate,
A relevance that deceives.
Prone to believe the BS-ness of a theory,
Planned and delivered...
Will be conceived and passed,
For the masses to perceive.
As reality!
To support and cloak,
Their disguises hidden.
To choke and maim all minds.
While those who suffer from these intentions,
Are left alone in their despair...
And driven to isolation.
While others stand on their backs...
To brag and boast,
Of such affairs!
In these desperate times.
Attacking those of lack with laughter.
With a thoughtlessness they dare to share...
To profit from these misdeeds long after!
How sinister,
Are they...
Who stir their own defeat!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A Litany of Lethe
O Lethe, hidden waters never dry,
We, all we weary and heavy-laden, cry,
O Lethe, let us find thee and forget!
--All we have sinnèd, and yet the scars remain.
--And we, all we had sorrow.--And we had pain.
O Lethe, let us find thee and forget!
Thou that dost flow from Death to Death through Sleep,
Whose waters are the tears of those that weep,
O Lethe, let us find thee and forget!
Thou that dost bring sweet peace to hospitals,
And to the captive openest prison-walls,
O Lethe, let us find thee and forget!
Thou that dost loose the soul from murdered Truth,
And youth from yesterday, and age from youth,
O Lethe, let us find thee and forget!
Thou from lost love remembered sett'st us free
From hopeless love, a lorn eternity;
O Lethe, let us find thee and forget!
Thou from repentance tak'st the sting, from vice
The memory of a forfeit Paradise;
O Lethe, let us find thee and forget!
Thou in our grief dost hide from us no less
The anguish of remembered happiness;
O Lethe, let us find thee and forget!
Thou that dost lay alike on all thy spell,
And free the saint from heaven, the wretch from hell,
O Lethe, let us find thee and forget!
Bring, bring soft sleep, and close all eyes for us,
Sleep without dreams, and peace oblivious;
O Lethe, let us find thee and forget!
We, all we weary and heavy-laden, cry,
Too tired to live, and yet too weak to die,
O Lethe, let us find thee and forget!
poem by Arthur Symons
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Time
I float through time with riddled thought
Amazed I've found the love I sought
That time once judged by hurt and doubt
When pain was all I knew about
Would now be seen through joyous hue
Of memories I make with you
And time, though once my enemy
Has come to be an azure sea
Upon which now I spread a sail
And pray for loves puissant gale
To take me ‘cross time's vast domain
And place me in your arms again
Where once its waves at twilights gloam
Would dare to take me far from home
I find, with time, a steady guide
Secure to trust its certain tide
Will take me to your hallowed shore
And leave me humbled at your door
I find in time a trusted friend
Whose past transgressions I ascend
To appreciate it's stormy way
Has made me who I am today
The answer, due and overwrought
Is that time has brought the love I sought
poem by Perry Biggerstaff
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Welcomed Are Those of Fresh Voices
So welcomed are those of fresh voices,
Giving points of view...
From new avenues,
And unsubdued by aging thought.
The ones upon which...
Dust has settled.
With nothing gained to be taught.
Here to speak from your perspective.
Clearing the staleness...
That comforts some,
In air the reeks of molding affairs.
So welcomed are those of fresh voices,
Giving points of view...
From new avenues,
And unsubdued by aging thought.
The ones upon which...
Dust has settled.
With nothing gained to be taught.
Or teases with a brisk breeze.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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You've Been Wrong
you've been wrong for so long
and i can't take the pain you bring me
no more
you've been wrong for so long
and i can't take the pain you bring me
no more
friday night it's 10 15
you're working late am i naive
to believe that it's true
finally i've realized
your lies have opened up my eyes
this love affair now it's over over
you've been wrong for so long
and i can't take the pain you bring me
no more
you've been wrong for so long
and i can't take the pain you bring me
no more
here we go over again
ya got me hangin' on a limb
i recommend that you leave
what do i do
what do u say
when i love you
and you don't feel the same
don't wanna play no more games
i don't wanna play it now
you've been wrong for so long
and i can't take the pain you bring me
no more
you've been wrong for so long
and i can't take the pain you bring me
no more
baby won't you
stop look listen to my heart
it's crying for you
stop look listen to my heart
it's falling for you
stop look listen to my heart
it's calling for you
stop look listen to my heart
it's finally over you
you've been wrong for so long
and i can't take the pain you bring me
no more
you've been wrong for so long
and i can't take the pain you bring me
no more
song performed by by Toni Braxton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It's Dangerous Business Walking Out Your Front Door
I've been up at this all night long
I've been drowning in my sleep
I've prayed for your safe place
And its time for us to leave
Time is running on empty and the gas is running out
I've decided that tonight is the night
That I set love aside
Full speed ahead this seems to be the place
I've seen this once before
Planned perfection sought in my dreams
Hoping this would take you home
My knuckles have turned to white
There's no turning back tonight
So kiss me one last time
Around this turn where
The cross will cast your shadow
The people will all gather
To remember such a day where the flames grew as high
As trees
And the world stopped for you and me
My knuckles have turned white
There's no turning back tonight
So hold on tight
Kiss me one last time
Shut your eyes
I will now bring new meaning to the word alone
Endless nights of dreaming of life
And the days we should have spent here
Drowning in my sleep I'm drowning in my sleep
Glass shatters and comes to a halt
I thought we'd be there by now
I thought it would be so much quicker than this
Pain has never been so brilliant
I made sure you were buckled in
Now you can walk hand in hand with him
song performed by by Underoath
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Love that Doth Reign and Live
Love that doth reign and live within my thought
And built his seat within my captive breast,
Clad in the arms wherein with me he fought,
Oft in my face he doth his banner rest.
But she that taught me love and suffer pain,
My doubtful hope and eke my hot desire
With shamefast look to shadow and refrain,
Her smiling grace converteth straight to ire.
And coward Love then to the heart apace
Taketh his flight, where he doth lurk and plain
His purpose lost, and dare not show his face.
For my lord's guilt thus faultless bide I pain;
Yet from my lord shall not my foot remove:
Sweet is the death that taketh end by love.
poem by Henry Howard
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Nature’s Music
Of many gifts bestowed on earth
To cheer a lonely hour,
Oh is there one of equal worth
With music’s magic power?
’Twill charm each angry thought to rest,
’Twill gloomy care dispel,
And ever we its power can test,—
All nature breathes its spell.
There’s music in the sighing tone
Of the soft, southern breeze
That whispers thro’ the flowers lone,
And bends the stately trees,
And—in the mighty ocean’s chime,
The crested breakers roar,
The wild waves, ceaseless surge sublime,
Breaking upon the shore.
There’s music in the bulbul’s note,
Warbling its vesper lay
In some fair spot, from man remote,
Where wind and flowers play;
But, oh! beyond the sweetest strain
Of bird, or wave, or grove
Is that soother of our hours of pain—
The voice of those we love.
When sorrow weigheth down the heart
The night birds sweetest lay—
The harp’s most wild and thrilling art—
Care cannot chase away;
But let affection’s voice be heard,
New springs of life ’twill ope,—
One word—one little loving word—
Will bring relief and hope.
poem by Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
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Upon A Snail
She goes but softly, but she goeth sure,
She stumbles not, as stronger creatures do.
Her journey's shorter, so she may endure
Better than they which do much farther go.
She makes no noise, but stilly seizeth on
The flower or herb appointed for her food,
The which she quietly doth feed upon
While others range and glare, but find no good.
And though she doth but very softly go,
However, 'tis not fast nor slow, but sure;
And certainly they that do travel so,
The prize they do aim at they do procure.
Comparison.
Although they seem not much to stir, less go,
For Christ that hunger, or from wrath that flee,
Yet what they seek for quickly they come to,
Though it doth seem the farthest off to be.
One act of faith doth bring them to that flower
They so long for, that they may eat and live,
Which, to attain, is not in others power,
Though for it a king's ransom they would give.
Then let none faint, nor be at all dismayed
That life by Christ do seek, they shall not fail
To have it; let them nothing be afraid;
The herb and flower are eaten by the snail.
poem by John Bunyan
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Fasting
'Tis morning now, yet silently I stand,
Uplift the curtain with a weary hand,
Look out while darkness overspreads the way,
And long for day.
Calm peace is frighted with my mood to-night,
Nor visits my dull chamber with her light,
To guide my senses into her sweet rest
And leave me blest.
Long hours since the city rocked and sung
Itself to slumber: only the stars swung
Aloft their torches in the midnight skies
With watchful eyes.
No sound awakes; I, even, breathe no sigh,
Nor hear a single footstep passing by;
Yet I am not alone, for now I feel
A presence steal
Within my chamber walls; I turn to see
The sweetest guest that courts humanity;
With subtle, slow enchantment draws she near,
And Sleep is here.
What care I for the olive branch of Peace?
Kind Sleep will bring a thrice-distilled release,
Nepenthes, that alone her mystic hand
Can understand.
And so she bends, this welcome sorceress,
To crown my fasting with her light caress.
Ah, sure my pain will vanish at the bliss
Of her warm kiss.
But still my duty lies in self-denial;
I must refuse sweet Sleep, although the trial
Will reawaken all my depth of pain.
So once again
I lift the curtain with a weary hand,
With more than sorrow, silently I stand,
Look out while darkness overspreads the way,
And long for day.
"Go, Sleep," I say, "before the darkness die,
To one who needs you even more than I,
For I can bear my part alone, but he
Has need of thee.
"His poor tired eyes in vain have sought relief,
His heart more tired still, with all its grief;
His pain is deep, while mine is vague and dim,
Go thou to him.
"When thou hast fanned him with thy drowsy wings,
And laid thy lips upon the pulsing strings
That in his soul with fret and fever burn,
To me return."
She goes. The air within the quiet street
Reverberates to the passing of her feet;
I watch her take her passage through the gloom
To your dear home.
Beloved, would you knew how sweet to me
Is this denial, and how fervently
I pray that Sleep may lift you to her breast,
And give you rest--
A privilege that she alone can claim.
Would that my heart could comfort you the same,
But in the censer Sleep is swinging high,
All sorrows die.
She comes not back, yet all my miseries
Wane at the thought of your calm sleeping eyes--
Wane, as I hear the early matin bell
The dawn foretell.
And so, dear heart, still silently I stand,
Uplift the curtain with a weary hand,
The long, long night has bitter been and lone,
But now 'tis gone.
Dawn lights her candles in the East once more,
And darkness flees her chariot before;
The Lenten morning breaks with holy ray,
And it is day!
poem by Emily Pauline Johnson
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This Aimless Song
I rake the air,
For the image now gone,
A faded memory,
An unknown treasure,
An unspoken song.
I cling to the pieces of the deed,
But never will a thought be enough,
To conjure life in what had me freed,
That is now my bane,
My wound, my unwanted greed.
I ask for less,
I got it all,
The empty room,
The frigid hands,
I look down the well once filled,
Brimming with tears of the shaky haze,
Of roses red, of passion bright,
When all around was filled with light,
Far gone days, in a daze,
I wagered.
Gone, tossed away,
What I am regurgitated by its own gaze.
I sleep no more, my hunger gone,
When I believed it better for me,
All along.
The blindness blessed,
The morning broke,
Scenes of perdition I alienated and forsook,
Now I clasp a lifeless sound,
That resonates hollowly,
With none around.
I gave it up,
I lost the way.
The joy I had,
Now cast away.
I am now one of them, part of the fray,
None to guide,
No purpose; dismay.
So I seek now a humble home,
To let me in,
To clothe my lone.
Never to take it all away,
What was the sweetest the other day.
But I cast it out,
I shattered the Beauty,
Of that which contemplation cursed me.
So now I wander by the path,
Which I forsook, in my own wrath.
The day is long, and I grow weary,
I wonder if you will ever hear me.
Or if all is lost, all hope is gone,
I am doomed to sing,
This aimless song.
poem by Jeremy Cahoon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cul-De-Sac
COULD I hope that when the brain,
Tired of questions answerless,
Shall slip off the bonds of pain
That enslave it and possess,
I should know how little worth
Were the little things of earth.
'Does it matter,' could I say,
'Whether she were false or true?
Whether life was gold or grey?
Whether skies were grey or blue?
All this matters less, it seems,
Than the threads of broken dreams.'
We may long to rest from strife,
Cease to question or to grieve;
But the sharpest ills of life
Nothing will reverse, retrieve;
For when we at last have rest,
We shall know not we are blest.
While we know, we have the ache;
Consciousness with pain will cease.
Sleep's joy comes not while we wake--
Night of life means dawn of peace,
But of peace which cannot be
Ever known by her or me.
Bow the back beneath the cross,
Stagger on a few steps more,
Bear the doubt, the strain, the loss,
As we had to do before!
When at last the burdens fall,
We shall know it not at all.
poem by Edith Nesbit
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Ballade Of Blind Love
Who have loved and ceased to love, forget
That ever they loved in their lives, they say;
Only remember the fever and fret,
And the pain of Love, that was all his pay;
All the delight of him passes away
From hearts that hoped, and from lips that met -
Too late did I love you, my love, and yet
I shall never forget till my dying day.
Too late were we 'ware of the secret net
That meshes the feet in the flowers that stray;
There were we taken and snared, Lisette,
In the dungeon of La Fausse Amistie;
Help was there none in the wide world's fray,
Joy was there none in the gift and the debt;
Too late we knew it, too long regret -
I shall never forget till my dying day!
We must live our lives, though the sun be set,
Must meet in the masque where parts we play,
Must cross in the maze of Life's minuet;
Our yea is yea, and our nay is nay:
But while snows of winter or flowers of May
Are the sad year's shroud or coronet,
In the season of rose or of violet,
I shall never forget till my dying day!
ENVOY.
Queen, when the clay is my coverlet,
When I am dead, and when you are grey,
Vow, where the grass of the grave is wet,
'I shall never forget till my dying day!'
poem by Andrew Lang
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