En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Reality

I stand at noon upon the heated flags
At the bleached crossing of two streets, and dream
With brain scarce conscious now the hurrying stream
Of noonday passengers is done. Two hags
Stand at an open doorway piled with bags
And jabber hideously. Just at their feet
A small, half-naked child screams in the street,
A blind man yonder, a mere hunch of rags,
Keeps the scant shadow of the eaves, and scowls,
Counting his coppers. Through the open glare
Thunders an empty wagon, from whose trail
A lean dog shoots into the startled square,
Wildly revolves and soothes his hapless tail,
Piercing the noon with intermittent howls.

poem by Archibald Lampman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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At The Ferry

On such a day the shrunken stream
Spends its last water and runs dry;
Clouds like far turrets in a dream
Stand baseless in the burning sky.
On such a day at every rod
The toilers in the hay-field halt,
With dripping brows, and the parched sod
Yields to the crushing foot like salt.

But here a little wind astir,
Seen waterward in jetting lines,
From yonder hillside topped with fir
Comes pungent with the breath of pines;
And here when all the noon hangs still,
White-hot upon the city tiles,
A perfume and a wintry chill
Breathe from the yellow lumber-piles.

And all day long there falls a blur
Of noises upon listless ears,
The rumble of the trams, the stir
Of barges at the clacking piers;
The champ of wheels, the crash of steam,
And ever, without change or stay,
The drone, as through a troubled dream,
Of waters falling far away.

A tug-boat up the farther shore
Half pants, half whistles, in her draught;
The cadence of a creaking oar
Falls drowsily; a corded raft
Creeps slowly in the noonday gleam,
And wheresoe'er a shadow sleeps
The men lie by, or half a-dream,
Stand leaning at the idle sweeps.

And all day long in the quiet bay
The eddying amber depths retard,
And hold, as in a ring, at play,
The heavy saw-logs notched and scarred;
And yonder between cape and shoal,
Where the long currents swing and shift,
An aged punt-man with his pole
Is searching in the parted drift.

At moments from the distant glare
The murmur of a railway steals
Round yonder jutting point the air
Is beaten with the puff of wheels;
And here at hand an open mill,
Strong clamor at perpetual drive,
With changing chant, now hoarse, now shrill,
Keeps dinning like a mighty hive.

A furnace over field and mead,
The rounding noon hangs hard and white;
Into the gathering heats recede
The hollows of the Chelsea height;
But under all to one quiet tune,
A spirit in cool depths withdrawn,
With logs, and dust, and wrack bestrewn,
The stately river journeys on.

I watch the swinging currents go
Far down to where, enclosed and piled,
The logs crowd, and the Gatineau
Comes rushing from the northern wild.
I see the long low point, where close
The shore-lines, and the waters end,
I watch the barges pass in rows
That vanish at the tapering bend.

I see as at the noon's pale core-
A shadow that lifts clear and floats-
The cabin'd village round the shore,
The landing and the fringe of boats;
Faint films of smoke that curl and wreathe,
And upward with the like desire
The vast gray church that seems to breathe
In heaven with its dreaming spire.

And there the last blue boundaries rise,
That guard within their compass furled
This plot of earth: beyond them lies
The mystery of the echoing world;
And still my thought goes on, and yields
New vision and new joy to me,
Far peopled hills, and ancient fields,
And cities by the crested sea.

I see no more the barges pass,
Nor mark the ripple round the pier,
And all the uproar, mass on mass,
Falls dead upon a vacant ear.
Beyond the tumult of the mills,
And all the city's sound and strife,
Beyond the waste, beyond the hills,
I look far out and dream of life.

poem by Archibald Lampman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Shadows

Beside the Narrow Crossing-Place
(And night was falling gray),

Two Shadows met, the legends tell. .
Each Shadow went its way.

But there was anguish in their eyes,
And tears in both their hearts.

Beside the Narrow Crossing-Place,
Where Shade from Shadow parts.

For they had seen the Rising Sun

In opal and in rose,
For they had seen the Rising Sun,

Who saw the long day close.

And had they met at Mom or Noon
Who met the shades between?

Ay! had they met at Morn or Noon
And so — the Might-Have-Been !

poem by Edwin James Brady
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Don't Stand So Close

don't stand so close
by the police
young teacher, the subject, of school girl fantasy
she wants him, so badly, knows what she wants to be
inside him, there's no room, this girl's an open page
bookmark in, she's so close now, this girl is half his age
don't stand, don't stand so
don't stand so close to me
don't stand, don't stand so
don't stand so close to me
her friends are, so jealous, you know how bad girls get
sometimes it's not so easy, to be the teacher's pet
temptation, frustration, so bad it makes him cry
wet bus stop, she's waiting, his car is warm and dry
don't stand, don't stand so
don't stand so close to me
don't stand, don't stand so
don't stand so close to me
loose talk in, the classroom, to hurt they try and try
strong words in, the staffroom, the accusations fly
it's no use, he sees her, he starts to shake and cough
just like the, old man in, that book by nabakov
don't stand, don't stand so
don't stand so close to me
don't stand, don't stand so
don't stand so close to me

song performed by by Police
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Look Through Any Doorway

Look through any doorway,
Each life will tell its story.
See the joy and heartbreak,
For all the world to see.
Shes on the city streets,
On her face is desolation.
Just a kid from out of town,
In the land of hope and glory.
Look through any doorway,
Each life will tell its story.
See the joy and heartbreak,
For all the world to see.
Open up your heart.
Open up the highway,
The road will stretch before you,
For there will be a new day,
Where love will show the way.
Only shadows of the world we left behind,
Open up your heart,
Many shadows of the past, so dont look back.
Look at the wars,
A part of greed affects us all
Theres a better way, despite what they do or say,
People of the world.
Look through any doorway,
Tell me what you see.
Open up your heartache,
And love will show the way.
Searching for the way,
Through all the doubt and sorrow.
Days turn into years,
But well build a new tomorrow.
Look through any doorway,
Each life will bear its treasure.
Open up your heartache,
And love will show the way.
All the shadows of the world we left behind,
Open up your heart.
Many shadows of the past, so dont look back,
Open up your heart.
Open up your heart.
Look through any doorway,
Tell me what you see.
Look through any doorway.

song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Look Through Any Doorway (alternate Take)

Look through any doorway,
Each life will tell its story.
See the joy and heartbreak,
For all the world to see.
Shes on the city streets,
On her face is desolation.
Just a kid from out of town,
In the land of hope and glory.
Look through any doorway,
Each life will tell its story.
See the joy and heartbreak,
For all the world to see.
Open up your heart.
Open up the highway,
The road will stretch before you,
For there will be a new day,
Where love will show the way.
Only shadows of the world we left behind,
Open up your heart,
Many shadows of the past, so dont look back.
Look at the wars,
A part of greed affects us all
Theres a better way, despite what they do or say,
People of the world.
Look through any doorway,
Tell me what you see.
Open up your heartache,
And love will show the way.
Searching for the way,
Through all the doubt and sorrow.
Days turn into years,
But well build a new tomorrow.
Look through any doorway,
Each life will bear its treasure.
Open up your heartache,
And love will show the way.
All the shadows of the world we left behind,
Open up your heart.
Many shadows of the past, so dont look back,
Open up your heart.
Open up your heart.
Look through any doorway,
Tell me what you see.
Look through any doorway.

song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Night was wide, and furnished scant

589

The Night was wide, and furnished scant
With but a single Star—
That often as a Cloud it met—
Blew out itself—for fear—

The Wind pursued the little Bush—
And drove away the Leaves
November left—then clambered up
And fretted in the Eaves—

No Squirrel went abroad—
A Dog's belated feet
Like intermittent Plush, he heard
Adown the empty Street—

To feel if Blinds be fast—
And closer to the fire—
Her little Rocking Chair to draw—
And shiver for the Poor—

The Housewife's gentle Task—
How pleasanter—said she
Unto the Sofa opposite—
The Sleet—than May, no Thee—

poem by Emily Dickinson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Stand For Something

When you cry
I know youve got a good reason to cry
If you cant come
I know its not just an alibi
Now I hear things that are better kept under the hat
Who backs it up?
Look at your hand, you can count on that
When you talk, its hard to disagree
And when you dance, youre talking to me
When you stand, you stand for something
Stand for something
They cant dim your flame
When you stand, you stand for something
Stand for something
They cant bend your stream
Here I stand
Outside the world of politica
I would not lose that
For all the gold in south africa
What you wear did not come easy
What you hear sounds different to me
When you stand, youre standing next to me
You put your foot down every day
Make sure you bring it down on the up beat
So walk away those feet of clay
We are fighting and dancing in the street

song performed by by Utopia
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Open My Eyes

All I want is written on my face
Youre bound to find something
And all your words that held me into place
Were nothing but lies
Another time I might have watched the things I said
But I cant see
Somebody...
Open my eyes for a little while little while
Make me forget all the things I see
Til then til then dont know what is happening
Til then til then dont care what Ill see
Ill stand and stare until I go blind
Will you open my eyes
Dont mind me
You know me inside out
Thats the way that you left me
And you wont find me
Begging for a chance
To have you burn me again
Another time I might have wasted all my words
To make you see
Somebody...
Open my eyes for a little while little while
Make me forget all the things I see
Til then til then dont know what is happening
Til then til then dont care what Ill see
Ill stand and stare until I go blind
Will you open my eyes?
Another time you might have watched the things I said
Another place you might left me here for dead
Another time...
Somebody...
Open my eyes for a little while little while
Make me forget all the things I see
Til then til then dont know what is happening
Til then til then dont care what Ill see
Ill stand and stare until I go blind
Will you open my eyes?
Oh, Ill stand and stare until I go blind
Will you open my eyes?
Open my eyes
Open my eyes.

song performed by by Tiffany
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mad Mariner

Mad Mariner rose in the city bus
That slowly on the road
In the crowded of city street
Heated the sleepy passengers
And was tired
Hook, hook, his fingers
Straight to the roof bus
Ran and ran again
He screams
On the city bus
How this could be happen
In the city bus
Apart From
Frighten passengers

poem by Prasetya Utama
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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At That Minute You'll Smile Or Maybe Cry

When you stand before deity
will your dog stand at the right hand
to give judgement?
Will your dog speak, wagging its tail
of love
and caring
concern
and play
and did you worry when he was ill?
Or will he stand there trembling
tail hung low
speaking of abandonment,
pain and beatings,
being left alone,
no one to play with,
empty food dishs,
empty water bowls
for days. The sadness?
Which will your dog tell?

poem by David Howerton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Don't Stand So Close To Me

Young teacher, the subject
Of schoolgirl fantasy
She wants him so badly
Knows what she wants to be
Inside her there's longing
This girl's an open page
Book marking - she's so close now
This girl is half his age
Don't stand, don't stand so
Don't stand so close to me
Her friends are so jealous
You know how bad girls get
Sometimes it's not so easy
To be the teacher's pet
Temptation, frustration
So bad it makes him cry
Wet bus stop, she's waiting
His car is warm and dry
Don't stand, don't stand so
Don't stand so close to me
Loose talk in the classroom
To hurt they try and try
Strong words in the staffroom
The accusations fly
It's no use, he sees her
He starts to shake and cough
Just like the old man in
That book by Nabakov
Don't stand, don't stand so
Don't stand so close to me
Don't stand, don't stand so
Don't stand so close to me

song performed by by Sting
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Auto Modown

Auto modown
Down in youngstown
Bodies in the street
Auto mowdown
Noon in downtown
Bodies with no feet
Auto mowdown
Down in youngstown
Bodies got deblues
Auto mowdown
Noon in downtown
Bodies with no shoes
An acidhead goon in a 55 dodge
Didnt mean to do it
But a sidewalk run in the noonday sun
Ten to one he had to lose it

song performed by by Devo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Noonday Rest

Calmer than midnight's deepest hush
Is the sun-bright Summer nooning,
With its cloudy shadows seeking rest,
That fall on the hillside swooning.

Great Night with its solemn starry eyes,
Over Day's gate asks us whither
We go, what our password is,
To the camp beyond the river.

But sunny Noon with its sleepy smile
Ripples the grain field over,
Without a thought of the silent graves
That may lie beneath the clover.

Knee-deep the drowsy cattle stand
In the water's golden glimmer,
While berry bush and bramble spray
Along the hot wall shimmer.

The plowshare glitters in the sun
Through murdered daisies clinging:
The nested birds leave busy bees
To do the noonday singing.

Bright Noon no eager question asks,
But like an old nurse story
old as she holds us on her breast,
Croons soft of love and glory.

The weary plowman's lazy length
Lies in the shadow narrow,
That clings about the haystack foot,
Careless as guarded sparrow.

Oh, peaceful hour of Summer Noon!
Life has its midnight slumber;
Has it no noonday rest for us,
When cares shall cease to cumber?

poem by Ethel Lynn Beers from All Quiet along the Potomac and other poems (1879)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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William Street

’Tis William Street, the link street,
That seems to stand alone;
’Tis William Street, the vague street,
With terraces of stone:
That starts with clean, cool pockets,
And ancient stable ways,
And built by solid landlords
And in more solid days.
Beginning where the shadow streets
Of vacant wealth begin,
Street William runs down sadly
Across the vale of sin.
’Tis William Street, the haggard,
Where all the streets are mean
That’s trying to be honest,
That’s trying to keep clean.

’Tis William Street with method,
And nought of show or pride,
That tries to keep its business
Upon the right-hand side.
No pavement exhibition
Of carcases and slops;
But old-established principles
In old-established shops.

’Tis William Street the highway—
Whichever way it be—
To business and the theatres,
Or empty luxury.
’Tis William Street (the East-end)—
The world-wise and exempt—
That sells Potts Point its purgatives
With something of contempt.

With fronts that hint of England,
As England used to be,
Old houses once in gardens,
And signs of Italy.
With hints of the forgotten,
Strange Sydney of the past,
When bricks were burnt for all time,
And walls were built to last.

’Tis William Street that rises
From stagnant dust and heat,
(Old trees by the Museum
Hold back with hands and feet)—
And where the blind are plying
Deft fingers, supple wrists—
’Tis William Street, exclusive,
Where pray the Methodists.

The blind courts see the clearer,
Side lanes grow trim and neat,
The wretched streets are cleaner
That run from William Street.
The sick streets’ lonely matron
Seems stern, as matrons do—
’Tis William Street, redeeming,
Regenerating “Loo.”

poem by Henry Lawson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Open Your Box

Open your box,
Open your box,
Open your trousers,
Open your thighs,
Open your legs,
Open, open, open, open, oooh.
Open, open, open, open,
Open your legs,
Open your flies,
Open your ears,
Open your nose,
Open your mouth,
Open, open, open, open, oooh.
Open.
Open your cold feet,
Open, open,
Open, open, open, let's open, let's open the cities.
Open the cities,
Open, open, open the world,
Open, let's open the world.
Open, open, oooh -
Open, open, ooh!

song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Open Your Box

Open your box,
Open your box,
Open your trousers,
Open your thighs,
Open your legs,
Open, open, open, open, oooh.
Open, open, open, open,
Open your legs,
Open your flies,
Open your ears,
Open your nose,
Open your mouth,
Open, open, open, open, oooh.
Open.
Open your cold feet,
Open, open,
Open, open, open, let's open, let's open the cities.
Open the cities,
Open, open, open the world,
Open, let's open the world.
Open, open, oooh -
Open, open, ooh!

song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tut-Ench-Amon (Tutankhamen)

Been and seen down flight from chicago
All aboard the African Queen
I am on a night boat down to cairo
Feeling like a tourist with a foreign man abroad
Tells it like he thinks it is, but I know he is fraud
There is a map tucked under his shoulder
and a cap perched on his head
If he looked any older, he might as well be dead
Dressed in army surplus the files around me swarm
On a mission without a purpose, I wish I'd never been born
By the light of a pale moon - Tutankhamen
Half past high noon - Tutankhamen
Put you in the picture - 1884
I'm up to date on the literature
but I have never been here before
There is a black boy on the corner trailing me behind
Stalking like a vulture money on his mind
In the shadow of the giant sphinx the archeological tale
Before the eastern sun sinks I'll be learning braille
By the light of a pale moon - Tutankhamen
Half past high noon - Tutankhamen
They are playing our tune - Tutankhamen
Half past high noon - Tutankhamen
By the light of a, light of a pale moon - Tutankhamen
Half past high noon - Tutankhamen
By the light of a pale moon - Tutankhamen
Half past high noon - Tutankhamen

song performed by by Falco
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Que sera sera, whatever will be will be

Three blind girls did sing
This que sera sera song
This whatever will be will be

Their voices did blend well
Their bodies stiff in their darkness
Since birth then today they come
On a heavenly cause

The three blind girls did make us cry
As we all watch them
How long have we been blind too?
Uncaring about those with disabilities?
Those who are deaf, and blind and mute
Those who cannot sing and walk and talk

We watch them sing we saw our tears falling
Have they too opened our eyes from this stark blindness?
I still cry today, though there is no need for you to see,
I, too, grapple, with my wide eyes open
This darkness at high noon
This muteness with my gaping mouth wide open
This silence amidst the boiling noise
Inside these vast and empty halls

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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High Noon

A leather life from the prairie to the blue, blue ocean
A one horse town of promised gold and western fortune
Oh, token slug of bourbon
Time after time
High noon - riding a dream
Lie after lie
High noon - not what they seem
But it only happened in film
Hot dust and lust, a dawn to dusk can lead to danger
I bought a lover locket - a barroom dolly -
Bathtub stranger (swear to me calamity again!)
Sasperella
Red neck fella
Lace umbrella
Be my girl!
When I find the west is won
Got to keep on rolling on and on
Time after time
High noon - riding a dream
Lie after lie
High noon - not what they seem
Mile after mile
High noon - building a dream
Lie after lie
High noon - not what they seem

song performed by by Haircut 100
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Birds, Converging

Sun salved, we sit on the front porch, careful
when we speak, watching the crows swagger near
the property line, dabbing – what. A nest
of grubs? Ice-wintered berries? New grass shoots?
Such purposeful pecking. They pause, sky-tipped.
Resume their work. Curious, we step close –
a starling twitches at their feet. One eye
gone, the other blinking fast, rib cage open
to the sun as the snow unravels from
our roof, soaking the lawn. Your arm touches mine
and all the words we had this morning fall
away like the empty husks piled under the feeder,
seeds cracked open by the birds, converging.

poem by Christianne Balk
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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