Voyage
for Ernest Hemingway
HEAP we these coppered hulls
With headed poppies
And garlic longed-for by the eager dead
Keep we with sun-caught sails
The westward ocean
Raise we that island on the sea at last
Steep to the gull-less shore
Across the sea rush
Trade we our cargoes with the dead for sleep.
poem by Archibald MacLeish
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Related quotes
Don't Laugh
And when the sun, it turns to snow
And the grass doesn't grow
Don't laugh, i love you
I could look outside my window every day
But you wouldn't be there to there come and play
Don't laugh, i love you
Ernest hemingway (ernest hemingway)
Would always be there for me (would always be there for me)
But now (ernest hemingway) ernest hemingway is dead (is dead now)
If i could get you back someday
Don't you say you're going away
Don't laugh, i love you
And if you locked me in the sun
To the tinkle i would run
Don't laugh, i love you
Nu nu nu nu nu nu nu nu nu nu nu nu
Nu nu nu nu nu nu nu nu nu nu nu nu nu nu nu nu nu nu nu
I love you, i love you, i love you, i love you
Don't laugh, i love you
I love you, i love you, i love you, i love you
(oooh...ohhheee..watch it...giveittome..blahblahblah...
Watchit...ooheee...giveittome, etc.)
song performed by by Ween
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Canopy Of Sea-gull
The sea-gull floating
Over the blue surface of sea
That weave with unending waves
A beautiful attire for the shore
To be worn by him
When he tie the knot
With the sea whom he kisses
With unabated passion!
The sea-gull is frightened
To see the dark cloud canopy
Over the roaring ocean
Urging her to seek a canopy
For her to escape from the lashing
Monsoon that showered incessantly.
The sea-gull flapped
Its wet wings to raise
From the loved wave bed
Of the sea that fed
That soothes her with wind
With the music on full moon
At the peak of the tides
That come mid-noon
To rouse the passion of the ocean!
The sea-gull left
To the shore arranged
With arrayed Chinese nets
That raise its head by poles
Invoking hope to the sea-gull
To perch on a pole
Of a Chinese net
To have a safe shelter
From the rain violated sea
And from the monsoon ravaged sea
The sea-gull with no canopy
Sat on the pole with a rain bath
That she welcomed with screams.
But a gun targeting her
From the anchored ship
Made a deafening sound
That peeped through the rain wall
And hit the heart
Of the sea-gull
With a bullet flushed
By the trigger of the barrel
Of an unknown hunter
Sat on the back of the vessel
Who freed the soul of sea-gull
That moved to the eternal canopy.
poem by Vadakkumpurath Ramesan
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Dead Cheese
Hand me the cheese, please.
Mutter the manger to sleep in.
I eat much more than you,
Glimmering like a morbid girl.
Dead are elements too cold,
Living in death and ruin
As the cargoes of government
Lead the people into trade with height.
poem by Naveed Akram
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I Feel Like The Sea-Gull
I feel like the sea-gull
That wanders the ocean-waves calm or tossed
With tempests in mid-Ocean or sea-shore:
I am the sea-gull
That with parched throat
Cries his piercing cry across the landscape
Where sea and sky are only and they meet
In my lone call:
I am the sea-gull that protests
And speaks injustice and its pains
And that is why
My throat is parched – yet I am free
Free in my flight across the air
Flipping around my wings; moving
Flying miles and kilometers moving
Flying near to land as much as can I
For I must bespeak – people must hear me.
My call I know will pierce
And the hearts
That lie now frozen by unjust hands
Will feel the warmth of summer in their innocence
Their throats no longer will be parched
Nor will they thirst
But by the springs of paradise will slake their thirst:
And they will have justice.
And the earth will flower again, no longer groan
Under its burdens
And I
And I, the lonely sea-gull of the ocean-winds
Will cry my eerie cry no more
My deed done my heart can break
And I
The lonely sea-gull will float
Float speechless on the Ocean’s bosom to the skies.
poem by Emmanuel George Cefai
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Switzerland is a small, steep country, much more up and down than sideways, and is all stuck over with large brown hotels built on the cuckoo clock style of architecture.
quote by Ernest Hemingway
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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All Dead, All Dead
Memories, my memories
How long can you stay
To haunt my days
She came without a farthing
A babe without a name
So much ado about nothing
Is what shed try to say
So much ado my lover
So many games we played
Through every fleeted summer
Through every precious day
All dead all dead
All the dreams we had
And I wonder why I still live on
All dead all dead
And alone Im spared
My sweeter half instead
All dead
And gone
All dead...
All dead all dead
At the rainbows end
And still I hear her own sweet song
All dead all dead
Take me back again
You know my little friends
All dead
And gone
All dead and gone
Her ways are always with me
I wander all the while
But please you must forgive me
I am old but still a child
All dead all dead
But I should not grieve
In time it comes to everyone
All dead all dead
But in hope I breathe
Of course I dont believe
Youre dead
And gone
All dead
And gone
song performed by by Queen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dead In The Cold, A Song-Singing Thrush
Dead in the cold, a song-singing thrush,
Dead at the foot of a snowberry bush, -
Weave him a coffin of rush,
Dig him a grave where the soft mosses grow,
Raise him a tombstone of snow.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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I love sleep. My life has the tendency to fall apart when I'm awake, you know?
quote by Ernest Hemingway
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Bellman
BRING out your dead before you reap
From lips beloved infection dread;
Above such brows ye dare not weep!
Bring out your dead
Into the street from breast or bed,
Lest ye too sicken into sleep
That recks not of the Bellman's tread.
Thrice foolish heart! Why do you heap
Corpse upon corpse--conspire to spread
Corruption on all else you keep?
Bring out your dead!
poem by Muriel Stuart
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A Song Of Poppies
I love red poppies! Imperial red poppies!
Sun-worshippers are they;
Gladly as trees live through a hundred summers
They live one little day.
I love red poppies! Impassioned scarlet poppies!
Ever their strange perfume
Seems like an essence brewed by fairy people
From an immortal bloom.
I love red poppies! Red, silken, swaying poppies!
Deep in their hearts they keep
A magic cure for woe--a draught of Lethe--
A lotus-gift of sleep.
I love red poppies! Soft silver-stemmed, red poppies,
That from the rain and sun
Gather a balm to heal some earth-born sorrow,
When their glad day is done.
poem by Virna Sheard
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To Ailsa Rock
Hearken, thou craggy ocean-pyramid,
Give answer by thy voice—the sea-fowls' screams!
When were thy shoulders mantled in huge streams?
When from the sun was thy broad forehead hid?
How long is't since the mighty Power bid
Thee heave to airy sleep from fathom dreams—
Sleep in the lap of thunder or sunbeams—
Or when grey clouds are thy cold coverlid!
Thou answer'st not; for thou art dead asleep.
Thy life is but two dead eternities,
The last in air, the former in the deep!
First with the whales, last with the eagle-skies!
Drowned wast thou till an earthquake made thee steep,
Another cannot wake thy giant-size!
poem by John Keats
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Venite Descendamus
Let be at last; give over words and sighing,
Vainly were all things said:
Better at last to find a place for lying,
Only dead.
Silence were best, with songs and sighing over;
Now be the music mute;
Now let the dead, red leaves of autumn cover
A vain lute.
Silence is best: for ever and for ever,
We will go down and sleep,
Somewhere beyond her ken, where she need never
Come to weep.
Let be at last: colder she grows and colder;
Sleep and the night were best;
Lying at last where we cannot behold her,
We may rest.
poem by Ernest Christopher Dowson
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Unsettled
An unsettled body rests on an unsettled sea,
Staring always upward through the cloudy gauze
OF white, foggy eyes. The body sways, slowly
Deteriorating in the sun; slowly soaking in the salt,
Crisping up as it shribbles—drenched and water-logged.
A single rib in the curving ribcage is split,
Puncturing inward, a small red pool shading
The ocean like the minute hand of a sundial,
Like magnetic pulls on the arrow of a compass.
Carrion rots, but this is flesh preserved
In the saunter of its myth, its iniquity
Of half-destroyed instruments and lost cargoes,
Damaged sails that've lost their luster, their color
In the glow of the sun. The westward wind carries over.
poem by Tim Stensloff
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Poppies
Some scarlet poppies lay upon our right.
He watched them through his periscope all day.
He watched then all the day; but in the night
They seemed to pass away.
They came again much redder with the morn’
And still he gazed, and strangely longed to roam
Among their savage splendour in the corn,
And ponder on his home.
But when the charge was done, they found him
there
Deep in the redness, where he’d made his stand,
With withered poppies in his twisted hair,
And poppies in his hand.
poem by Leon Gellert
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Caught In A Trap
Sometimes you get caught in a trap and you dont know it
Sometimes its better to get out while you know it
Some people never learn they keep on falling
You can never get out if you keep on stalling
Then you get,
(chorus:) caught in a trap caught in dead end
Caught in a trap with nowhere to run
Then you get, caught in a trap caught in dead end
Nowhere to turn but it cant go on
Caught in a trap
Sometimes you got to know where to run for cover
Sometimes your better out till the heat is over
Ah you get (chorus)
Caught in a trap
Dont know how it happened but then its too late
Then you gotta move on the times, you cant wait
Cus you got (chorus)
(chorus)
(chorus)
Caught in a trap
Caught in a trap
Caught in a t
song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Flying Dutchman
Unyielding in the pride of his defiance,
Afloat with none to serve or to command,
Lord of himself at last, and all by Science,
He seeks the Vanished Land.
Alone, by the one light of his one thought,
He steers to find the shore from which he came,
Fearless of in what coil he may be caught
On seas that have no name.
Into the night he sails, and after night
There is a dawning, thought there be no sun;
Wherefore, with nothing but himself in sight,
Unsighted, he sails on.
At last there is a lifting of the cloud
Between the flood before him and the sky;
And then--though he may curse the Power aloud
That has no power to die--
He steers himself away from what is haunted
By the old ghost of what has been before,--
Abandoning, as always, and undaunted,
One fog-walled island more.
poem by Edwin Arlington Robinson
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Sleeper
Sleep that half dead,
sleep the body not the head.
Sleep that bad said,
Poor owns that bed,
Dreams are found on that herd.
Sleep while awake,
Sleep that dead not closed eye fake.
Sleep that weak,
Tommorow u gona take.
Eat that sleep and enjoy its steak.
Sleep still stands,
None to overtake.
Sleep that height dare for cake.
Sleep that stress and have the bless,
Sleep to confess as she do to embrance,
Sleep for paid cash as he do to love false.
Sleep that sleep as no one sleep ever deep.
Sleep that better as no other sleeper.
Wear that sweater as did Brother Peter,
Sleep that firm to dream that greater,
Sleep not slopy arrise all the weaker.
poem by Abdallah Mpogole
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The Dead Child
Sleep on, dear, now
The last sleep and the best,
And on thy brow,
And on thy quiet breast
Violets I throw.
Thy scanty years
Were mine a little while;
Life had no fears
To trouble thy brief smile
With toil or tears.
Lie still, and be
For evermore a child!
Not grudgingly,
Whom life has not defiled,
I render thee.
Slumber so deep,
No man would rashly wake;
I hardly weep,
Fain only, for thy sake.
To share thy sleep.
Yes, to be dead,
Dead, here with thee to-day,--
When all is said
'Twere good by thee to lay
My weary head.
The very best!
Ah, child so tired of play,
I stand confessed:
I want to come thy way,
And share thy rest.
poem by Ernest Christopher Dowson
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I'll Sleep When I Am Dead
J. Bon Jovi, R. Sambora, D. Child)
Seven days of saturday
Is all that I need
Got no use for Sunday
'Cause I don't rest in peace
Don't need no Mondays
Or the rest of the week
I spend a lot of time in bed
But baby I don't like to sleep no
I won't lie to you
I'm necer gonna cry to you
I'll probably drive you wild 8 days a week
Until I'm 6 feet under
Baby I don't need a bed
Gonna live while I'm alive
I'll sleep when I'm dead
Till they roll me over
And lay my bones to rest
Gonna live while I'm alive
I'll sleep when I'm dead
So you're looking for some action
I got got everything you need
Better keep your motor running
'cause I was built for speed
This ain't no slumber party
Got no time for catching z's
If they say that that ain't healthy
Well then living's a disease
We're never going to die baby
Come on let me drive you crazy
We'll make every night another New Year's Eve
Till I'm six feet under
I won't need a bed
Gonna live while I'm alive
I'll sleep when I'm dead
Till they roll me over
And lay my bones to rest
Gonna live while I'm alive
I'll sleep when I'm dead
Sleep when I'm dead, sleep when I'm dead
Gonna live while I'm alive,
I'll sleep when I'm dead
Seven days of Saturday
Is all that I need
Got no use for Sunday
'Cause I don't rest in peace
I was born to live
You know I wasn't born to die
But if they party down in heaven
I'll be sure to be on time
Until I'm six feet under
I don't need a bed
Gonna live while I'm alive
I'll sleep when I'm dead
Till they roll me over
And lay my bones to rest
Gonna live while I'm alive
I'll sleep when I'm dead
I feel like I'm exploding
Going out of my head
Gonna live while I'm alive
I'll sleep when I'm dead
Till I'm six feet under
And they lay my bones to rest
Gonna live while I'm alive
I'll sleep when I'm dead
Sleep when I'm dead, sleep when I'm dead
Gonna live while I'm alive, sleep when I'm dead
song performed by by Bon Jovi
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Death of a Raven
As I was taking a tour today
I saw a raven lying dead by the side of a bank
He lay there lone, cold, dead
Nobody to bury, cremate, or carry him away
I felt sad
I felt life is so sudden, so short
A couple of ravens kept circling the dead
They tried to tell me something of the raven dead
But I couldn't understand them
Because I don't know as how to interpret the language of the raven
The raven lay dead by the pavement of the bank
He lay sideways
His feet up
His dead beak closed and dead
I felt a sudden rush of hopelessness, a sudden rush of undefined pain
I didn't stop there to mourn the raven's death
I ran away as fast my legs would pace
The raven is dead
Everything around him goes as usual
Life is a continuous process
Time, tide, space flows on their own pace
Nobody notices the death of the raven
Except me
My soul saddens by the death of the unknown raven
The sky is dark and cloudy
It threatens rain
A few drops dropp here and there to make the scorched ground a little
wet
I cry for the dead raven
Please spare a pray for the dead raven
poem by Ujjol Kamal
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