A.d. 19—?
AS in some quiet city bathed in sleep,
Where like a kiss the twilight lingereth,
When suddenly the earth stirs far beneath—
Just moves, then pauses—and a silence deep
Falls on all ere the second shock should sweep
Spire, column, pinnacle to shapeless death!
And white face peers at white face, and no breath
Is drawn, and every heart forgets to leap!
So now across this quiet, dreaming world
The first faint shock has thrilled; and men, aghast,
Wait for the second, whose blind forces pent
Shall in one last convulsion find their vent;
And all the builded fabrics of the past
Shall be in ruins on their builders hurled.
poem by Arthur Henry Adams
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Related quotes
Breton Afternoon
Here, where the breath of the scented-gorse floats through the
sun-stained air,
On a steep hill-side, on a grassy ledge, I have lain hours long
and heard
Only the faint breeze pass in a whisper like a prayer,
And the river ripple by and the distant call of a bird.
On the lone hill-side, in the gold sunshine, I will hush me and
repose,
And the world fades into a dream and a spell is cast on me;
_And what was all the strife about, for the myrtle or the rose,
And why have I wept for a white girl's paleness passing ivory!_
Out of the tumult of angry tongues, in a land alone, apart,
In a perfumed dream-land set betwixt the bounds of life and death,
Here will I lie while the clouds fly by and delve an hole where my
heart
May sleep deep down with the gorse above and red, red earth beneath.
Sleep and be quiet for an afternoon, till the rose-white angelus
Softly steals my way from the village under the hill:
_Mother of God, O Misericord, look down in pity on us,
The weak and blind who stand in our light and wreak ourselves such ill_.
poem by Ernest Christopher Dowson
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Epitaph
The Earth Speaks:
HUSH! he drowses, drowses deep,
While my quiet arms I keep
Close about him in his sleep.
Once he glanced at me aghast,
Shuddered from my kiss, and passed—
But I hold him here at last.
He had frenzied thoughts of fame,
Piteous strivings for a name—
But I called him, and he came.
Called him with the mother-call
That shall on the weary fall,
Whispering “Home” to all, to all.
Fair white skin he looked upon;
Eyes in his with passion shone;
But my patient love has won.
There was one he deemed to wed;
But he faltered, came instead
To my narrow bridal bed.
Vehement his veins and wild—
Now a dreaming, glad-eyed child
To my kisses reconciled.
Tender heart and turbulent,
I and he together pent
In an æon of content!
Heaven holds for him no prize:
Stirless, nested here he lies
In his narrow Paradise.
When his trump God's Angel blows,
When he shudders, wakens, knows,
I shall hold him close, so close!
He will feel life's aching pain,
Turn his lips to me, and then
Sink to dreamless sleep again.
So for aye my love I keep
Here upon my breast asleep—
Hush!…he drowses…drowses…deep.
poem by Arthur Henry Adams
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Dream-Love
Young Love lies sleeping
In May-time of the year,
Among the lilies,
Lapped in the tender light:
White lambs come grazing,
White doves come building there:
And round about him
The May-bushes are white.
Soft moss the pillow
For oh, a softer cheek;
Broad leaves cast shadow
Upon the heavy eyes:
There wind and waters
Grow lulled and scarcely speak;
There twilight lingers
The longest in the skies.
Young Love lies dreaming;
But who shall tell the dream?
A perfect sunlight
On rustling forest tips;
Or perfect moonlight
Upon a rippling stream;
Or perfect silence,
Or song of cherished lips.
Burn odours round him
To fill the drowsy air;
Weave silent dances
Around him to and fro;
For oh, in waking
The sights are no so fair,
And song and silence
Are not like these below.
Young Love lies dreaming
Till summer days are gone, -
Dreaming and drowsing
Away to perfect sleep:
He sees the beauty
Sun hath not looked upon,
And tastes the fountain
Unutterably deep.
Him perfect music
Doth hush unto his rest,
And through the pauses
The perfect silence calms:
Oh, poor the voices
Of earth from east to west,
And poor earth's stillness
Between her stately palms.
Young Love lies drowsing
Away to poppied death;
Cool shadows deepen
Across the sleeping face:
So fails the summer
With warm delicious breath;
And what hath autumn
To give us in its place?
Draw close the curtains
Of branched evergreen;
Change cannot touch them
With fading fingers sere:
Here first the violets
Perhaps with bud unseen,
And a dove, may be,
Return to nestle here.
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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Dream-Love
Young Love lies sleeping
In May-time of the year,
Among the lilies,
Lapped in the tender light:
White lambs come grazing,
White doves come building there:
And round about him
The May-bushes are white.
Soft moss the pillow
For oh, a softer cheek;
Broad leaves cast shadow
Upon the heavy eyes:
There winds and waters
Grow lulled and scarcely speak;
There twilight lingers
The longest in the skies.
Young Love lies dreaming;
But who shall tell the dream?
A perfect sunlight
On rustling forest tips;
Or perfect moonlight
Upon a rippling stream;
Or perfect silence,
Or song of cherished lips.
Burn odours round him
To fill the drowsy air;
Weave silent dances
Around him to and fro;
For oh, in waking
The sights are not so fair,
And song and silence
Are not like these below.
Young Love lies dreaming
Till summer days are gone,—
Dreaming and drowsing
Away to perfect sleep:
He sees the beauty
Sun hath not looked upon,
And tastes the fountain
Unutterably deep.
Him perfect music
Doth hush unto his rest,
And through the pauses
The perfect silence calms:
Oh, poor the voices
Of earth from east to west,
And poor earth's stillness
Between her stately palms.
Young Love lies drowsing
Away to poppied death;
Cool shadows deepen
Across the sleeping face:
So fails the summer
With warm, delicious breath;
And what hath autumn
To give us in its place?
Draw close the curtains
Of branched evergreen;
Change cannot touch them
With fading fingers sere:
Here the first violets
Perhaps will bud unseen,
And a dove, may be,
Return to nestle here.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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Missing You
It's been a while since I saw your smile,
Never seen your face but I felt your grace,
From a distance your gaze,
Your eyes, they warm my heart,
What a great place to start!
In my heart, always,
Always a place for you,
A quiet space,
What a beautiful place!
Lost in time, no rhythm nor rhyme,
Until at last,
We find the peace we deserve,
To live, breathe and to serve,
So when you think of me,
Remember to feel free,
Live life through freedoms door,
Know that I will love you evermore,
I will see you in a quiet room,
A dark corner where you light the gloom,
In a moment of silence, a quiet breath,
Moves us one step further from death,
Sometimes I feel there can be no end,
As long as our hearts mend,
A soul that is your friend,
Then the light of love will know no end.
26 June 2012
poem by David Andre' Klopper
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Shock To The System
Released on cd singles leave virginia alone, 1995 (usa) and on youre the star, 1995 (europe)
(rod stewart/andy taylor)
Well she came from the motor city
From a clean white neighbor hood
She had a degree in social science
She came out here to hollywood
Shes a six foot sultry beauty
With an eye for polynisian art
In a short shirt and doctor martens
She could kick start a dead mans heart
Its not what she say
Its all in her sway
Shes a shock to the system
Its not how she talk
Its all in her walk
Its a shock to the system
Shes a rough cut sacred diamond
In a sea of mediocre style
She just wants the pro shot body
She may be crazy but shes no wild child
She have the old folks out on sundays
Plays piano in a rock and blues band
She dont drink, smoke, dope or do cocaine
But she parties hard all the same
Its not what she say
Its all in her sway
Shes a shock to the system
Its not how she talk
Its all in her walk
Shes a shock to the system
Oh yea
Shock me baby
Shock me baby
As I was walking home one night
In the streets that never sleep
In that sub terrainian part of town
Where love is never found
On a billboard on the topless place
I noticed her pretty face
It said appearing here twice nightly
(...........)
Well she had a whole lot of money
And went back home to michigan
She had maximized her potential
But didnt scandilaze the family name
Its not what she say
Its all in her sway
Its a shock to the system
Its not how she talk
Its all in her walk
Shes a shock to the system
Its not what she say
Its all in her sway
Its a shock to the system
Its not how she talk
Its all in her walk
Its a shock to the system
song performed by by Rod Stewart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shock The Monkey
Shock the monkey to life
Shock the monkey to life
Cover me when I run
Cover me through the fire
Something knocked me out the trees
Now Im on my knees
Cover me, darling please
Monkey, monkey, monkey
Dont you know when youre going to shock the monkey
Fox the fox
Rat the rat
You can ape the ape
I know about that
There is one thing you must be sure of
I cant take any more
Darling, dont you monkey with the monkey
Monkey, monkey, monkey
Dont you know youre going to shock the monkey
Wheels keep turning
Somethings burning
Dont like it but I guess Im learning
Shock! - watch the monkey get hurt, monkey
Cover me, when I sleep
Cover me, when I breathe
You throw your pearls before the swine
Make the monkey blind
Cover me, darling please
Monkey, monkey, monkey
Dont you know youre going to shock the monkey
Too much at stake
Ground beneath me shake
And the news is breaking
Shock! - watch the monkey get hurt, monkey
Shock the monkey
Shock the monkey
Shock the monkey to life
song performed by by Peter Gabriel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shock To The System
Shock to the system,
But youre going back inside of the light.
Shock to the freedom,
Only one more body of love, and theyre rolling
Theyre rolling back to you!
Dreaming all the time; they be dreaming all the time.
Shock to the politicians;
You know they just got burned by the fire.
Shock to the freedom whispers;
Theyre only coming after, theyre rolling
Theyre rolling, coming over!
Dreaming all the time; they be dreaming all the time.
So, in answer to the prayer,
The one you want is there,
The one you feel inside of you.
So, in answer to the dream,
This time you are so clear;
Its always got to be this way!
Forever...
Shock to the future;
Shock to the rights of mankind.
And they wont even go blind,
When they cant see whats going on.
So, in answer to the prayer,
The one you feel is there,
The one you feel so close to (the order of the sun).
And everyone is one,
And all the pieces fit together.
Did it all begin with someone?
Did it all begin with someone?
I couldnt have pictured being alive!
Shock to the system...
song performed by by Yes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shock To The System
Shock to the system,
But youre going back inside of the light.
Shock to the freedom,
Only one more body of love, and theyre rolling
Theyre rolling back to you!
Dreaming all the time; they be dreaming all the time.
Shock to the politicians;
You know they just got burned by the fire.
Shock to the freedom whispers;
Theyre only coming after, theyre rolling
Theyre rolling, coming over!
Dreaming all the time; they be dreaming all the time.
So, in answer to the prayer,
The one you want is there,
The one you feel inside of you.
So, in answer to the dream,
This time you are so clear;
Its always got to be this way!
Forever...
Shock to the future;
Shock to the rights of mankind.
And they wont even go blind,
When they cant see whats going on.
So, in answer to the prayer,
The one you feel is there,
The one you feel so close to (the order of the sun).
And everyone is one,
And all the pieces fit together.
Did it all begin with someone?
Did it all begin with someone?
I couldnt have pictured being alive!
Shock to the system...
song performed by by Yes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Ships that Won't Go Down
We hear a great commotion
'Bout the ship that comes to grief,
That founders in mid-ocean,
Or is driven on a reef;
Because it's cheap and brittle
A score of sinners drown.
But we hear but mighty little
Of the ships that won't go down.
Here's honour to the builders –
The builders of the past;
Here's honour to the builders
That builded ships to last;
Here's honour to the captain,
And honour to the crew;
Here's double-column headlines
To the ships that battle through.
They make a great sensation
About famous men that fail,
That sink a world of chances
In the city morgue or gaol,
Who drink, or blow their brains out,
Because of "Fortune's frown".
But we hear far too little
Of the men who won't go down.
The world is full of trouble,
And the world is full of wrong,
But the heart of man is noble,
And the heart of man is strong!
They say the sea sings dirges,
But I would say to you
That the wild wave's song's a paean
For the men that battle through.
poem by Henry Lawson
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Choriambics-II.
Here the flame that was ash, shrine that was void, lost in the haunted wood,
I have tended and loved, year upon year, I in the solitude
Waiting, quiet and glad-eyed in the dark, knowing that once a gleam
Glowed and went through the wood. Still I abode strong in a golden dream,
Unrecaptured.
For I, I that had faith, knew that a face would glance
One day, white in the dim woods, and a voice call, and a radiance
Fill the grove, and the fire suddenly leap . . . and, in the heart of it,
End of labouring, you! Therefore I kept ready the altar, lit
The flame, burning apart.
Face of my dreams vainly in vision white
Gleaming down to me, lo! hopeless I rise now. For about midnight
Whispers grew through the wood suddenly, strange cries in the boughs above
Grated, cries like a laugh. Silent and black then through the sacred grove
Great birds flew, as a dream, troubling the leaves, passing at length.
I knew
Long expected and long loved, that afar, God of the dim wood, you
Somewhere lay, as a child sleeping, a child suddenly reft from mirth,
White and wonderful yet, white in your youth, stretched upon foreign earth,
God, immortal and dead!
Therefore I go; never to rest, or win
Peace, and worship of you more, and the dumb wood and the shrine therein.
poem by Rupert Brooke (1908)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Choriambics II
Here the flame that was ash, shrine that was void,
lost in the haunted wood,
I have tended and loved, year upon year, I in the solitude
Waiting, quiet and glad-eyed in the dark, knowing that once a gleam
Glowed and went through the wood. Still I abode strong in a golden dream,
Unrecaptured.
For I, I that had faith, knew that a face would glance
One day, white in the dim woods, and a voice call, and a radiance
Fill the grove, and the fire suddenly leap . . . and, in the heart of it,
End of labouring, you! Therefore I kept ready the altar, lit
The flame, burning apart.
Face of my dreams vainly in vision white
Gleaming down to me, lo! hopeless I rise now. For about midnight
Whispers grew through the wood suddenly, strange cries in the boughs above
Grated, cries like a laugh. Silent and black then through the sacred grove
Great birds flew, as a dream, troubling the leaves, passing at length.
I knew
Long expected and long loved, that afar, God of the dim wood, you
Somewhere lay, as a child sleeping, a child suddenly reft from mirth,
White and wonderful yet, white in your youth, stretched upon foreign earth,
God, immortal and dead!
Therefore I go; never to rest, or win
Peace, and worship of you more, and the dumb wood and the shrine therein.
poem by Rupert Brooke
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Be Not Dismayed
Be not dismayed, be not dismayed when death
Sets its white seal upon some worshipped face.
Poor human nature for a little space
Must suffer anguish, when that last drawn breath
Leaves such long silence; but let not thy faith
Fail for a moment in God's boundless grace.
But know, oh know, He has prepared a place
Fairer for our dear dead than worlds beneath,
Yet not beneath; for those entrancing spheres
Surround our earth as seas a barren isle.
Ours is the region of eternal fears;
Theirs is the region where God's radiant smile
Shines outward from the centre, and gives hope
Even to those who in the shadows grope.
They are not far from us. At first though long
And lone may seem the paths that intervene,
If ever on the staff of prayer we lean
The silence will grow eloquent with song
And our weak faith with certitude wax strong.
Intense, yet tranquil; fervent, yet serene,
He must be who would contact World Unseen
And comrade with their Amaranthine throng;
Not through the tossing waves of surging grief
Come spirit-ships to port. When storms subside,
Then with their precious cargoes of relief
Into the harbour of the heart they glide.
For him who will believe and trust and wait
Death's austere silence grows articulate.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Not For that City
Not for that city of the level sun,
Its golden streets and glittering gates ablaze—
The shadeless, sleepless city of white days,
White nights, or nights and days that are as one—
We weary, when all is said , all thought, all done.
We strain our eyes beyond this dusk to see
What, from the threshold of eternity
We shall step into. No, I think we shun
The splendour of that everlasting glare,
The clamour of that never-ending song.
And if for anything we greatly long,
It is for some remote and quiet stair
Which winds to silence and a space for sleep
Too sound for waking and for dreams too deep.
poem by Charlotte Mary Mew
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Breath! Breath out!
A moment of silence.
Breath out!
There is nothing to say aloud.
Reflection of passion in the eyes.
Breath!
There is no time to realize.
They quickly open the door lock.
Breath out!
They look at the clock.
Endless kiss in the hall.
Breath!
Don’t fall!
The sound of falling ring.
Breath out!
Ding, ding!
The smell of electricity on the skin.
Breath!
Who will win?
A certain expression on his face.
Breath out!
It’s not a race.
Fulfilling with ecstasy two glasses.
Breath!
They are full of fantasies.
Not clear whispers of wet lips.
Breath out!
You are not VIPs.
The hasty movements of two lightings.
Breath!
They are fighting.
One is tender, another one is rude.
Breath out!
One is not so cute.
Rocking hands of the clock.
Breath!
Don’t get a shock!
As… one is released,
another one is not.
Take a deep breath!
As… here is a dot.
Larisa R (Odessa, Ukraine)
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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The End To A Perfect Beginning
everything was perfect
like a relationship should be
time spent together
honesty trust till
eternity
i never knew how much
one day could mean to me
i guess i was blind
not willing to see
my love of my life
had to leave
face to face he slowly, patiently
explained everything to me
full of pain an shock
not wanting him to leave
was the hardest part
that i didnt want to believe
silence, grieving
my heart could not take
i wanted to fall into a deep sleep
an never wake
for the last time i looked in to his eyes
an all i could see
was a heart broken lover
because of me
my love has gone
but maybe he will return
to hold me once again
without saying one word
i need to move on
that is what i tried to remind myself
but its hard, for i could never love
anyone else......
poem by Kendyll Brown
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Dream - Love
dream - love
his brush
swept
through
the canvas
the skill
of a ballet
dancer
round, twirl,
trailing
my bodice
wave
and wave
of water
colours
a world
livened up
me taking
shape
wave
after wave
of his strokes
i sat
nakedly
amused
at
those
wild strokes
seeking
ways to
preserve
me
for posterity
inspired by
Dream-Love
Young Love lies sleeping
In May-time of the year,
Among the lilies,
Lapped in the tender light:
White lambs come grazing,
White doves come building there:
And round about him
The May-bushes are white.
Soft moss the pillow
For oh, a softer cheek;
Broad leaves cast shadow
Upon the heavy eyes:
There wind and waters
Grow lulled and scarcely speak;
There twilight lingers
The longest in the skies.
Young Love lies dreaming;
But who shall tell the dream?
A perfect sunlight
On rustling forest tips;
Or perfect moonlight
Upon a rippling stream;
Or perfect silence,
Or song of cherished lips.
Burn odours round him
To fill the drowsy air;
Weave silent dances
Around him to and fro;
For oh, in waking
The sights are no so fair,
And song and silence
Are not like these below.
Young Love lies dreaming
Till summer days are gone, -
Dreaming and drowsing
Away to perfect sleep:
He sees the beauty
Sun hath not looked upon,
And tastes the fountain
Unutterably deep.
Him perfect music
Doth hush unto his rest,
And through the pauses
The perfect silence calms:
Oh, poor the voices
Of earth from east to west,
And poor earth's stillness
Between her stately palms.
Young Love lies drowsing
Away to poppied death;
Cool shadows deepen
Across the sleeping face:
So fails the summer
With warm delicious breath;
And what hath autumn
To give us in its place?
Draw close the curtains
Of branched evergreen;
Change cannot touch them
With fading fingers sere:
Here first the violets
Perhaps with bud unseen,
And a dove, may be,
Return to nestle here.
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Evening Song Of Senlin
from Senlin: A Biography
It is moonlight. Alone in the silence
I ascend my stairs once more,
While waves, remote in a pale blue starlight,
Crash on a white sand shore.
It is moonlight. The garden is silent.
I stand in my room alone.
Across my wall, from the far-off moon,
A rain of fire is thrown . . .
There are houses hanging above the stars,
And stars hung under a sea:
And a wind from the long blue vault of time
Waves my curtain for me . . .
I wait in the dark once more,
Swung between space and space:
Before my mirror I lift my hands
And face my remembered face.
Is it I who stand in a question here,
Asking to know my name? . . .
It is I, yet I know not whither I go,
Nor why, nor whence I came.
It is I, who awoke at dawn
And arose and descended the stair,
Conceiving a god in the eye of the sun,—
In a woman's hands and hair.
It is I whose flesh is gray with the stones
I builded into a wall:
With a mournful melody in my brain
Of a tune I cannot recall . . .
There are roses to kiss: and mouths to kiss;
And the sharp-pained shadow of death.
I remember a rain-drop on my cheek,—
A wind like a fragrant breath . . .
And the star I laugh on tilts through heaven;
And the heavens are dark and steep . . .
I will forget these things once more
In the silence of sleep.
poem by Conrad Potter Aiken
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White Hot Day
Instrumental version called bass line
In time, only time, speak for time, in time
Time calls, time cries, sweet friend of mine
Time could be a place, a spirit and a face
Teardrops through time
While away below, the whirlwinds will blow
A pretty nation speaks in time
The beauty of it is, to waken up to
Shake the hand of time
In time, only time, well speak for time
On a quiet night of a white hot day
Whisper the things that will come our way
On a quiet night of a white hot day
Hold back the years, hold back the years
Time calls, time cries, sounds like a friend of mine
Time will run to meet, the slick and shiny beat
That creeps to me through time
While away below, the whirlwinds will blow
A pretty nation sleeps in time
The beauty of it is
Well wake up to, shake the hand of time
In time, only time, in time, only time
In time
On a quiet night of a white hot day
Whisper the things that will come our way
On a quiet night of a white hot day
Hold back the tears, hold back the tears
In time, only time, well speak for time
On a quiet night of a white hot day
Whisper the things that will come our way
On a quiet night of a white hot day
Hold back the tears, hold back the tears
In time, only time
Quiet night of a white hot day
Whisper the things that will come our way
On a quiet night of a white hot day
Roll back the years, roll back the years
In time, only time, well speak for time
On a quiet night
Hold back the tears to another day
Quiet night of a white hot day
Hold back the tears, hold back the tears
Time, only time, speak for time
Quiet night of a white hot day
Whisper the things that will come our way
On a quiet night of a white hot day
Roll back the years, roll back the years
In time, only time, speak for time
Quiet night of a white hot day
Hold back the tears to another day
Quiet night of a white hot day
Words & music : james kerr, charlie burchill, mel gaynor, derek forbes, michael macneil (c) emi publishing ltd reproduced without permission
song performed by by Simple Minds
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Darkness Falls Like A Shadow Over You (In Answer To Pablo Neruda)
The darkness falls like a shadow over you,
where your eyes gleam like that of a cat
as the silver twilight sudden start to rush in
and abstracted your face fades into twilight.
Without a word you gaze into the night,
gaze down at neon lights flickering on,
while I am alone in our big hot bed
and there is a kind of loneliness that comes
with this early evening’s magical hour,
while the sun flames in its red glowing fire
that splashes over your white dress
as the night sets its roots into our souls
while hidden things suddenly come to life,
as your gentle laughter touches me very deep
when you enter our bedroom with a bottle
full of sparkling champagne, full of joy.
Suddenly life is rich as if the act of creation,
is in every gentle touch, as if new beginnings
of love, joy and tender bliss are totally endless
as the city lights suddenly wink on below.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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