When I Watch the Living Meet
When I watch the living meet
And the moving pageant file
Warm and breathing through the street
Where I lodge a little while,
If the heats of hate and lust
In the house of flesh are strong,
Let me mind the house of dust
Where my sojourn shall be long.
In the nation that is not
Nothing stands that stood before;
There revenges are forgot,
And the hater hates no more;
Lovers lying two and two
Ask not whom they sleep beside,
And the bridegroom all night through
Never turns him to the bride
poem by Alfred Edward Housman
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Related quotes
Her Nakedness
In the winter house you will meet her garden of love and,
In the summer house you will meet her nakedness!
And like the message of the fowls of the air who do view us all.
With my soul i have desired you my love,
For you are naked under the apple tree of love;
With my love i will be with you always,
For your nakedness is before me like a film!
But i saw the face of a man, a woman and a child within.
Old and patched,
My life is like the gragons of the sea!
But being crafty and deceitful is your love,
For you are always naked in the heat of the summer.
Her nakedness,
And of the lust of the flesh that is always seen around;
But try to learn from the double walls of love,
For it is time to wake up from the lust of the eyes.
Soot, smoke and dust;
The red sea dried up for her nakedness to appear!
But watch and see who is playing around her,
For her summer house is ready for her lovers.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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The Spook
Last night I dreamed that I was come again
Unto the house where my beloved dwells
After long years of wandering and pain.
And I stood out beneath the drenching rain
And all the street was bare, and black with night,
But in my true love's house was warmth and light.
Yet I could not draw near nor enter in,
And long I wondered if some secret sin
Or old, unhappy anger held me fast;
Till suddenly it came into my head
That I was killed long since and lying dead-
Only a homeless wraith that way had passed.
So thus I found my true love's house again
And stood unseen amid the winter night
And the lamp burned within, a rosy light,
And the wet street was shining in the rain.
poem by Clive Staples Lewis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sad Professor
If were talking about love
Then I have to tell you
Dear readers Im not sure where Im headed
Ive gotten lost before
Ive woke up stone drunk
Face down in the floor
Late afternoon the house is hot
I started I jumped up
Everyone hates a bore
Everyone hates a drunk
This may be a lit invention
Professors muddled in their intent
To try to rope in followers
To float their malcontent
As for this reader
Im already spent
Late afternoon the house is hot
I started I jumped up
Everyone hates a sad professor
I hate where I wound up
Dear readers my apologies
Im drifting in and out of sleep
Long silence presents the tragedies
Of love note the age get afraid
The surface hazy with attendant thoughts
A lazy eye metaphor on the rocks
Late afternoon the house is hot
I started I jumped up
Everyone hates a bore
Everyone hates a drunk
Everyone hates a sad professor
I hate where I wound up
I hate where I wound up
song performed by by REM
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Late Night, Maudlin Street
Winter coming
Winter push on
(push on)
Oh, winter push on
Winter is so long
Winter moves on
The last night on maudlin street
Goodbye house, goodbye stairs
I was born here
And I was raised here, and
...i took some stick here
Love at first sight
It may sound trite
But its true, you know
I could list the detail
Of everything you ever wore or said
Or how you stood the day
As we spent the last night
On maudlin street
Goodbye house, forever!
I never stole a happy hour
Around here
Where the worlds ugliest boy
Became what you see
Here I am - the ugliest man
Oh, the last night on maudlin street
Truly I do love you
Oh, truly I do love you
When I sleep
With that picture of you framed beside my bed
Oh, its childish and its silly
But I think its you in my room, by the bed
(...yes, I told you it was silly...)
And I know
I took strange pills
But I never meant to hurt you
Oh, truly I love you
Came home late one night
Everyone had gone to bed
But, you know
No-one stays up for you
I had sixteen stitches
All around my head
Oh, the last bus I missed to maudlin street
So he drove me home in the van
Complaining, women only like me for my mind...
Dont leave your torch behind
A powercut ahead; 1972, you know
And so we crept through the park
No, I cannot steal a pair of jeans off a clothesline
For you
But you ... without clothes
Oh, I could not keep a straight face
Me - without clothes ?
Well, a nation turns its back and gags...
Im packed
I am moving house
A half-life disappears today
With every hand waves me on
(secretly wishing me gone)
Well, I will be soon
Ooh, I will be soon
I will be soon
I will be soon
Will be soon, I will be soon
Mmm ... I will be soon, I will be soon
There were bad times on maudlin street
They took you away in a police car
Inspector - dont you know ?
Dont you care ?
Dont you know - about love ?
Your gran died
And your mother died
On maudlin street
In pain, and ashamed
With never time to say
Those special things ... oh
I took the key from maudlin street
Well, its only bricks and mortar !
Oh, oh, truly I love you
Oh, wherever you are
Wherever you are
Wherever you are
I hope youre singing now
Oh, I do hope
I hope youre singing now
Oh ...
song performed by by Morrissey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Morning Watch
'Tis near the morning watch, the dim lamp burns
But scarcely shows how dark the slumbering street;
No sound of life the silent mart returns;
No friends from house to house their neighbors greet;
It is the sleep of death; a deeper sleep
Than e'er before on mortal eyelids fell;
No stars above the gloom their places keep;
No faithful watchmen of the morning tell;
Yet still they slumber on, though rising day
Hath through their windows poured the awakening light;
Or, turning in their sluggard trances, say—
'There yet are many hours to fill the night;'
They rise not yet; while on the bridegroom goes
'Till he the day's bright gates forever on them close!
poem by Jones Very
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Our House
Father wears his sunday best
Mothers tired she needs a rest
The kids are playing up downstairs
Sisters sighing in her sleep
Brothers got a date to keep
He cant hang around
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our ...
Our house it has a crowd
Theres always something happening
And its usually quite loud
Our mum shes so house-proud
Nothing ever slows her down
And a mess is not allowed
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our ...
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our ...
Something tells you that youve got to get away from it
Father gets up late for work
Mother has to iron his shirt
Then she sends the kids to school
Sees them off with a small kiss
Shes the one theyre going to miss
In lots of ways
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our ...
I remember way back then when everything was true and when
We would have such a very good time such a fine time
Such a happy time
And I remember how wed play simply waste the day away
Then wed say nothing would come between us two dreamers
Father wears his sunday best
Mothers tired she needs a rest
The kids are playing up downstairs
Sisters sighing in her sleep
Brothers got a date to keep
He cant hang around
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our ...
Our house, was our castle and our keep
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, that was where we used to sleep
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our street
song performed by by Madness
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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English Project
I heard an explosion today near our house. I was so scared that I got my gun quickly and looked for my uncle. Surprisingly, he was still asleep in his room. After I checked on him, I ran outside the house and there was smoke and dust everywhere. The stench of gunpowder tickled my nose horribly. I looked for dead people but couldn’t see anything or anyone because of the dust. When the dust lifted up, there were bodies and blood everywhere. At the corner of the building a block away from our house, I saw a familiar body lying on the ground. When I came closer, I realised that it was my friend, Ali, and he was... dead! I was so shocked that I ran into our house and did not leave my bed for the rest of the day. The only thing that I knew that time is that I HATE THIS LAND.
poem by Jas Andrada
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Haate
My voice hate you, hates you the way a child hates a bath
My muscles hate you
Every weight they lift is hate for you
My tears hate you
My guns hate you every shot is for you
My trumpet hates you every wrong note is for you
My grandma hates you
The needles in my arm on Fridays hate you
My Harleys rumble is hate for you
The stars in my eyes hate you
The superman sign on the board hates you
My cow boots hate you ever stomp they make is hate for you
My dancing hates you hates the way you look at me with your pretty blue eyes
My smile hates you
Have you ever wondered why the sun hides behind the clouds
It’s because of you
My toes hate you every time you step on them they scream at you
My books hate you the stories they hold are hate for you
My life hates you
My hate for you hates you
My love for you hates you
poem by Kaddie Jo Sigman
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The Black House On The Corner
I passed by that house everday,
wondering what lurked inside of it,
was their some kind of ancient evil inside,
or a normal family that we never saw,
a house of macarbe,
it was painted black like the devil's sin,
it was surrouned by devilish-looking,
figures that stood outside on the line,
was also surrounded by a black pointed fence,
rumors of the devil himself living there,
the devil in the flesh,
satan living on my street corner,
The black house on the corner,
can't you see it,
you must walk past it everyday to,
dosen't your mind wander,
when you walk by The black house,
don't you to know what lays inside of the house,
maybe a ton of dead bodies under the floor boards,
a madman butcherd up his family,
could that be true,
or are our young minds racing again,
with impure and insane thoughts about,
who or what lives in the black house on the corner,
the black house,
painted with the devil's sin,
We were told to stay away from the black house,
that so many evils lived inside of it,
but us being kids we didn't want to live,
we wanted to see what was inside of the black house on the corner,
But we are to afraid to go forward,
we are to afraid to step through the gate,
and walk up the beaten path to the door bell,
it looks so old and so evil,
The black house on the corner,
we shall never know what evilness,
or what macabre force resides within,
the black house on the corner,
whatever you do,
don't go into the black house on the corner,
stay away from,
the black house on the corner,
it holds so many evils,
the black house on the corner,
poem by Robert Rumery
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The Houses
1898 -- A Song of the Dominions
'Twixt my house and thy house the pathway is broad,
In thy house or my house is half the world's hoard;
By my house and thy house hangs all the world's fate,
On thy house and my house lies half the world's hate.
For my house and thy house no help shall we find
Save thy house and my house -- kin cleaving to kind;
If my house be taken, thine tumbleth anon.
If thy house be forfeit, mine followeth soon.
'Twixt my house and thy house what talk can there be
Of headship or lordship, or service or fee?
Since my house to thy house no greater can send
Than thy house to my house -- friend comforting friend;
And thy house to my house no meaner can bring
Than my house to thy house -- King counselling King.
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Because The Night
[ springsteen/smith ]
Take me now, baby, here as I am
Hold me close, try and understand
Desire is hunger is the fire I breathe
Love is a banquet on which we feed
Come on now, try and understand
The way I feel under your command
Take my hand, come under cover
They cant hurt you now
Because the night belongs to lovers
Because the night belongs to lust
Because the night belongs to lovers
Because the night belongs to us
Have I doubt, baby, when Im alone
Love is a ring on the telephone
Love is an angel, disguised as lust
Here in our bed til the morning comes
Come on now, try and understand
The way I feel under your command
Take my hand, come under cover
They cant hurt you now
Because the night belongs to lovers
Because the night belongs to lust
Because the night belongs to lovers
Because the night belongs to us
With love we sleep, with doubt the vicious circle turns, and burns
Without you, I cannot live, forgive the yearning burning
I believe in love too real to feel, take me now, take me now, take me now
Because the night belongs to lovers
Because the night belongs to lust
Because the night belongs to lovers
Because the night belongs to us
song performed by by 10000 Maniacs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Stranger In The House
We dont talk much
We dont make love like we used to
And I stay guarded
Ive got walls and triggers
I never thought I had
And so do you
But this is love
And thats the way we seem content to play it
I touch your clothes when youre gone
I let your scent wash over me
You cry at night and you wish just like a child
That we were how we used to be
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
And she looks like somebody from a lifetime ago
I stonewall you, you stonewall me
But we both know that
Hiding deep inside us
Lives the love that we try hard to lose
And never will
But this is war
And thats the way we seem content to fight it
I get so angry and confused cause
I want out but I want you
You cant decide between moving out or moving in
You dont know what to do
With a stranger in the house
In the house
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
And she looks like you
And he looks like me
Is this the same girl that, I fought so hard to win
And now I fight to lose her
Now I feel that its just like skin to skin
And nerve to nerve
Strung out like wire
Is that the way we are content to live
We face off in anger
In rooms once filled with love
Looking for a chink in the armour
Where we can stab the blade
What are we thinking of
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
And she looks like somebody from a lifetime ago
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
song performed by by Rick Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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He Man Woman Hater
no women allowed!
Let me tell you about this love and hate relation
Between a man and a woman
And so none of you all get the wrong interpretation
I cant live with them
Im gonna die without them
Sooner or later
Youll be a he man woman hater
Its inevitable
And to become one
Youve gotta really hate to love them
He man woman hater
He, he man woman hater
You know I love to hate cause I hate to love them
He mans behavior
Doesnt need no explanation
We all got a one track mind
He men have always had a sexual preoccupation
Its gonna be your place or its gonna be mine
Sooner or later
Youll be a he man woman hater
Its inevitable
And to become one
Youve gotta really hate to love them
He man woman hater
He, he man woman hater
You know I love to hate cause I hate to love them
He, he man woman hater
Cant live with em gonna die without em
song performed by by Extreme
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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House Of Pain
I live inthe house of pain
And inside of that house of pain is very cold
But to fix it I had to buy a small heater
And now the house of pain is warm
But there are dust and dust mites
And the only way that I can fix it
Is by sweeping all over the house of pain
poem by Aldo Kraas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A haunted house
it stands on multiple wooden poles
and right between them a flight of stairs
that goes up straight to the back or kitchen
so that when somebody walks down you see
his feet, shins and thighs before you see the person
the house faces a huge raintree
that divides two roads
car lamps therefore shine directly onto
the poles of the house and cast shadows
that flash and lift themselves up over the
compound
the house they say is haunted
at night bus uses to stop just outside
to let passengers down
their shadows invariably running all
over the house when a car comes
in the opposite direction
everything then seems to be moving
except its unrelenting quietness
and forboding menacing atmosphere
i once was let down here
one last passenger in the dead of night
all the nooks and corners of the
abandoned house all of a sudden
became eyes that stared at me
like eager and lonely ghosts
longing for friends
my heart beat faster than my legs
could carry me
the house stood solemnly quiet
like an old, cold, lonely woman in despair
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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The Hour And The Ghost
BRIDE
O love, love, hold me fast,
He draws me away from thee;
I cannot stem the blast,
Nor the cold strong sea:
Far away a light shines
Beyond the hills and pines;
It is lit for me.
BRIDEGROOM
I have thee close, my dear,
No terror can come near;
Only far off the northern light shines clear.
GHOST
Come with me, fair and false,
To our home, come home.
It is my voice that calls:
Once thou wast not afraid
When I woo'd, and said,
'Come, our nest is newly made'—
Now cross the tossing foam.
BRIDE
Hold me one moment longer,
He taunts me with the past,
His clutch is waxing stronger,
Hold me fast, hold me fast.
He draws me from thy heart,
And I cannot withhold:
He bids my spirit depart
With him into the cold:—
Oh bitter vows of old!
BRIDEGROOM
Lean on me, hide thine eyes:
Only ourselves, earth and skies,
Are present here: be wise.
GHOST
Lean on me, come away,
I will guide and steady:
Come, for I will not stay:
Come, for house and bed are ready.
Ah, sure bed and house,
For better and worse, for life and death:
Goal won with shortened breath:
Come, crown our vows.
BRIDE
One moment, one more word,
While my heart beats still,
While my breath is stirred
By my fainting will.
O friend forsake me not,
Forget not as I forgot:
But keep thy heart for me,
Keep thy faith true and bright;
Through the lone cold winter night
Perhaps I may come to thee.
BRIDEGROOM
Nay peace, my darling, peace:
Let these dreams and terrors cease:
Who spoke of death or change or aught but ease?
GHOST
O fair frail sin,
O poor harvest gathered in!
Thou shalt visit him again
To watch his heart grow cold;
To know the gnawing pain
I knew of old;
To see one much more fair
Fill up the vacant chair,
Fill his heart, his children bear:—
While thou and I together
In the outcast weather
Toss and howl and spin.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The House That Built Jack
Scorched white by the lowly hung sun,
Crouched underneath the low ceiling sky.
Could burn his fingerprints right off,
Could be his last underground loft.
There's trick draws and the walls are too dry,
The stairs don't go up, the roof doesn't tilt,
In the house that Jack built.
An architect of soil and ash,
He buried and burned what wouldn't build.
The house strong with mortar and bricks,
The home strong, strong as straw and sticks.
Warm if he's willing, weak as he's willed,
The bell can't ring and the flowers won't wilt,
In the house that Jack built.
There's phantoms in the furniture,
In the company of his own ghost.
Trade family for plastic house plants,
Trade your heart if the clock enchants.
Never the neighbour, nobody's host,
Watch your head, mind your step, beware the guilt,
In the house that Jack built.
The labyrinth, he burnt it down,
There's a well but he can't choose a wish.
Etched the blueprints onto his skin,
From his own flaws; thereof; therein.
Unsmash the mirrors, face the blemish,
All work and no play, Jack can't find the hilt,
In the house that Jack built.
The house speaks to Jack and moves him.
Along the floorboards beneath the dust.
He's the shadow the bulbs can't touch.
He's the loft filled with far too much.
His house a temple; In jack we trust.
Home is where the heart, like cement, is spilt,
In the house that Jack built.
Home is where your soul must fill in each crack;
Home is what makes up for what you lack;
Home is what's bringing this flashback;
The house that built Jack.
poem by Ella Veyes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Houselessd Or Homeless
Is your house your home or is your home your house
a home is love, caring, sharing, and sweet
home is a place where you can have your own beat
there is no hate, no pain, and no lying
for right now i don't have this place
the place with a familiar face
i am the homeless
but not the houseless
in a house there is hate, pain, and lying
in a house there can be one slowly dying
you have to escape
if not you will suffer the worst fate
for right now i live here
suffering from fear
i am the homeless
but not the houseless
poem by Fred Chamberlain
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Tolerance
[ merchant ]
The still and silence is torn with violence.
A loud breaking sound in the night is made.
Hear it grow, hear it fade.
The sound youre hearing, the sound youre fearing
Is the hate that parades up and down our streets, coming within bounds and within reach.
Now, inside the place we hide away, we hear it near and hope it turns away.
Turn away...
Theres something seething in the air were breathing.
We learn slash and burn is the method to use.
Set a flame, burn it new.
Were overpowered.
We kneel, we cower, we cover our heads.
Feel the threat of blows that will come and the damage that will be done in its wake.
Now, inside this place we hide away, we hear it near although its miles away.
We hear it near and hope it turns away.
Turn away...
This house divided, we live inside it.
Hates dwelling place is behind our door in fitful nights.
Hear it walk the floor and hear it rave as it moans and drags along its ball and chain,
As it moves through this house it cant escape.
Now inside this place we hide away.
We hear it near and hope it turns away.
Turn away....
song performed by by 10000 Maniacs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Living in a House of Blue
Living in a house of blue
Waiting for a girl I knew
Living in a house of pain
Waiting for her purple shoes
To cross the threshold to my door
Like she did a thousand times or more
Looking for a perfect rhyme
To entice her back to the scene of the crime
Living in a house of blue
Waiting for I girl I know
She likes to go to the picture show
And watch the wicked witch cast her spell
She cries for the princess all night long
And falls asleep in my arms
When she sound asleep
I take off her purple shoes
And lock up our house of blue
poem by Brian Kilpatrick
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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