The flock of white geese
A flock of white geese
Chased us when we were children
On broad daylight!
poem by Asif Andalib
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Related quotes
How hard for me, the splendor of this crown and robe
-- How hard for me, the splendor of this crown and robe,
amidst my shame --
-- In stony Troezen will be an infamous calamity,
the royal staircase will grow red with disgrace,
. . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . .
and for the mother in love,
the black sun will rise.
-- O, if hate would boil in my breast --
but see, the admission itself
has fallen from my lips.
-- Phedre burns in a black flame
in broad daylight.
The funeral torch fumes
in broad white daylight.
Dread your mother, Hippolytus:
Phedre -- night -- watche s over you
in broad white day.
-- I have stained the sun with black love . . .
Death from a bottle will cool my ardor --
. . . . . . . . . . . . . .
-- We are afraid, we do not dare
relieve the king's grief.
Wounded by Theseus, night
fell upon him. But we,
with a funeral song bringing home the dead,
will pacify the black sun
of wild and sleepless passion.
poem by Osip Emilevich Mandelstam
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Daylight and Moonlight
In broad daylight, and at noon,
Yesterday I saw the moon
Sailing high, but faint and white,
As a schoolboy's paper kite.
In broad daylight, yesterday,
I read a poet's mystic lay;
And it seemed to me at most
As a phantom, or a ghost.
But at length the feverish day
Like a passion died away,
And the night, serene and still,
Fell on village, vale, and hill.
Then the moon, in all her pride,
Like a spirit glorified,
Filled and overflowed the night
With revelations of her light.
And the Poet's song again
Passed like music through my brain;
Night interpreted to me
All its grace and mystery.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Miracle of the Geese
The Catholic school children gathered
obedient to the bell, silent, waiting
for morning prayers
to begin another day,
when geese
raced suddenly above
tight formation crossing the
playground, stroking high air, shattering
our discipline with lusty
call, savage
song!
And the children,
raising their arms to heaven,
shouted in praise
at the wonder and glory,
the holy presence,
the miracle of the geese!
poem by Steven Federle
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autumn leaves
falling on top of cars -
flock of geese
haiku by Marijo Pinero
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What turned the Germans Back
WHAT turned the German myriads back
From Paris whither they had won?
The sword dropped from their hold grown slack;
Children of Attila the Hun,
Like Attila, went backward driven
By a young shepherdess of Heaven.
A shepherdess is Genevieve,
And though her flock should wander light,
This shepherdess is quick to save
The black, the speckled and the white.
She takes her golden crook and goes
And deals destruction to its foes.
She who turned Attila back, so slim,
A shepherdess that keeps the flock,
Waited as once she did for him,
Slight as a reed or her own crook;
'Turn back in God's Name!' They went back.
The tide is stemmed for her sweet sake.
White Genevieve upon her hill
Prays, and the German hosts retreat.
She plucks the Robes of Heaven still
That Heaven give victory for defeat;
And keeps her motley flock in sight,
The black, the speckled and the white.
poem by Katharine Tynan
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Winter
Of winter snow,
Of blinding white.
In broad daylight,
A shored up boat,
on frozen moat?
stagnant floats.
,
The silence deafen
Crisp cold creeps.
Awaiting sun, fen,
melting ice strips.
When The Daylight Comes
(ian hunter)
Oo-oo-oo, oo-oo-oo, ooooo
Oo-oo-oo, oo-oo-oo, ooooo
Sweet woman whats your name?
You smell as fresh as the rain
Instead of leaving you came
Let me feel your hair
A light shines in your eyes
The hungry years are so nice
Shadows shake in the lamplight
No writer could explain
But when the daylight comes
But when the daylight comes
But when the daylight comes
Ill be on my way
Oo-oo-oo, oo-oo-oo, ooooo
Oo-oo-oo, oo-oo-oo, ooooo
Oo-oo-oo, oo-oo-oo, ooooo, yeah!
Please share my bed and I swear
That I wont touch you nowhere
Just need your warmth and your care
Dont wanna mess around
And when the daylight comes
Yeah when the daylight comes
Oh when the daylight comes
Ill be on my way
Yeah when the daylight comes
Yeah when the daylight comes
Yeah when the daylight comes
Ill be on my way
But theres a song in the air
And it knows that youre there
cause its making me share
You with my life
I know I know I know that
I want to weave you in words
Want to paint you in verse
Want to leave you in someone elses dreams
It seems the only way, hey!
I can thank you, thank you baby
Some people say that were sinners
Some people say that were winners
We make good gossip at dinners
They try to pin us down
But when the daylight comes
Yeah when the daylight comes
Oh when the daylight comes
Ill be on my way
Yeah when the daylight comes
Yeah when the daylight comes
Oh when the daylight comes
Well be on my way
(repeat and fade)
song performed by by Ian Hunter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Remembrance
To what can our life on earth be likened?
To a flock of geese,
alighting on the snow.
Sometimes leaving a trace of their passage.
poem by Su Tung-po
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I'm Bored
I'm bored
I'm the chairman of the bored,
I'm a lengthy monologue
I'm livin' like a dog
I'm bored
I bore myself to sleep at night
I bore myself in broad daylight coz
I'm bored
Just another slimey bore
I'm free to bore my well-bought friends
And spend my cash until the end coz
I'm bored
I'm bored
I'm the chairman of the board
I'm sick
I'm sick of all my kicks
I'm sick of all the stiffs
I'm sick of all the dips
I'm bored
I bore myself to sleep at night
I bore myself in broad daylight coz
I'm bored
I'm bored
Just another dirty bore
All right doll-face
Come on and bore me
I'm sick
I'm sick of all my kicks
I'm sick of all the stiffs
I'm sick of all the dips
I'm sick
I'm sick when I go to sleep at night
I'm still sick in the broad daylight coz
I'm bored
I'm bored
I'm the chairman of the. . .
BORED
song performed by by Iggy Pop
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tasting Blood
Point-blank you
kill the pigeons in cold
blood. Death stalks.
In broad daylight
I watch the green blood
of white bread.
The soul will not
listen the song of life.
Hope, do not go!
poem by Satish Verma
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Darkness Dream
i dreamed...
i was lost in the night,
making my way through the trees.
small branches lashed against my face,
i could feel stone beneath my feet.
and somewhere near, but far, the sound of water.
wrapped in the stillness of night,
that has its own sounds,
its own smells.
haunted by something i couldnt define,
almost the feeling of being stalked.
i finally made my way to a moonlit clearing.
a flock of small birds rose in front of me.
in the field were children,
different colors, different languages,
all different ages...
children, playing together.
i looked closer...
and noticed their eyes...
something wrong, something odd.
a steel hard voice spoke in my ear...
'these children have never seen daylight,
and never will...'
i awakened with a start.
one word on my lips...
CHOICES!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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We're All God's Children
Album: Peace In The Valley
Here comes a Baptist, here comes a Jew
There goes a Mormon and a Muslim too
I see a Buddist and a Hindu
I see a Catholic and I see you
We're all god's children
We're all god's children
We're all god's children
Why can't we be
One big happy family
You like the day, and I like the night
He's into country and he's isn't quit
There's folks on the left and the far right
But that doesn't mean that we have to fight
We're all god's children
All god's children
Yeah, We're all god's children
Why can't we be
One big happy family
White folks, yellow folks, black and tan
On the same planet in the same plan
A feminist woman and a he man
We're all playin' the magic hand
We're all god's children
We're all god's children
Oh, We're all god's children
Why can't we be
One big happy family
We're all god's children
All god's children
Yeah, We're all god's children
Why can't we be
One big happy family
We're all god's children
All god's children
We're all god's children
Why can't we be
One big happy family
We're all god's children
We're all god's children
Yeah, We're all god's children
Why can't we be
One big happy family
We're all god's children
We're all god's children
We're all god's children
We're all black and white
We're all precious in his sight
We're all god's children
We're all god's children
We're all god's children
Why can't we all be
One big happy family...
song performed by by Alan Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We two
We two take each other by the hand
We believe everywhere in our house
Under the soft tree under the black sky
Beneath the roofs at the edge of the fire
In the empty street in broad daylight
In the wandering eyes of the crowd
By the side of the foolish and wise
Among the grown-ups and children
Love’s not mysterious at all
We are the evidence ourselves
In our house lovers believe.
poem by Paul Eluard
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Daylight Katy
She walks be the sea where the seaworld is
And she waits for the man to come
She lives in town with her high-heeled friends
And she knows its a long way down
But she doesnt have to get up in the morning
With her hair so soft and long
Daylight katy come on
Daylight katy come on
If you cant follow me down
Daylight katy go home
Daylight katy come on
Daylight katy come on
If you cant follow me down
Daylight katy go home
She walks to the sea where the seaweed is
Where the rust and the dirt runs deep
She lives nine lives in her midnight world
While her old mans fast asleep
And she doesnt have to get up in the mornin
With her hair so soft and long
Daylight katy come on
Daylight katy come on
If you cant follow me down
Daylight katy go home
Daylight katy come on
Daylight katy come on
If you cant follow me down
Daylight katy go home
She lives by the sea when the summer wind comes
And the sea dont mind at all
She talks to the sea when the sea runs wild
And the waves run steep and tall
And she doesnt have to get up in the mornin
With her hair so soft and long
Daylight katy come on
Daylight katy come on
If you cant follow me down
Daylight katy go home
Daylight katy come on
Daylight katy come on
If you cant follow me down
Daylight katy go home
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Ballad of Norman Jack and Billy
Summer days in sixty three
Happy carefree hours in play;
Three boys that could in no way know
The folly that would blight their day.
Jack turned out to meet big Norman
Finding bird's nests - couldn't wait;
They also called for smiling Billy,
Or 'Professor' to his mates.
Dusty tattered shoes that stepped
So lightly - not with careful tread,
Down the pebbled pathway, turning
Running through the wheat-field bed.
In the wood, much darker then,
But still they saw the nest on high;
The boy had almost reached his goal
Then from below he heard a cry.
The warning came too late, the farmer
Showed his power, they had a choice:
But not for them the 'cop-shop, ' no,
'We'll work, ' they answered with one voice.
And so the trio did, all wondering
How to pay the farmer back;
Plotting in their childish heads,
Norm, Professor and young Jack.
The cleaning was a tiresome chore,
For Bill the geese-pen was a pain;
But Jack was happy cleaning cars
And pouring polish down the drain.
Seeing this, his smile returning,
Billy gave the goose a kick;
'That'll teach the thing, ' he muttered,
'Pigs and geese they make me sick! '
When the farmer's rage subsided
And he thought they'd had enough,
Another lecture then he gave them,
Talk of trespassing and stuff.
'Off you go, and if I see you
Here once more you will regret
Ever coming on my land
You scallywags, go on now, get! '
'And close the gate as you go by,
You'll have the geese all running free; '
We sauntered off and I walked over
By the pen, as he'd bid me.
'Twas then the goose that Bill had kicked,
He saw his opportunity,
The whole flock joined in, just for fun,
And chased the lads and made them flee.
The farmer and his mate laughed hard,
The boys ran off at quite a lick;
The geese gave chase, and honked and pecked,
They looked like feathered lunatics!
Once free the trio heaved a sigh,
Red faced and cursing those two men;
But still they knew it was deserved,
'We'll never go near there again! '
Written March 1994
poem by John Carter Brown
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The Last of The Flock
I
In distant countries have I been,
And yet I have not often seen
A healthy man, a man full grown,
Weep in the public roads, alone.
But such a one, on English ground,
And in the broad highway, I met;
Along the broad highway he came,
His cheeks with tears were wet:
Sturdy he seemed, though he was sad;
And in his arms a Lamb he had.
II
He saw me, and he turned aside,
As if he wished himself to hide:
And with his coat did then essay
To wipe those briny tears away.
I followed him, and said, 'My friend,
What ails you? wherefore weep you so?'
--'Shame on me, Sir! this lusty Lamb,
He makes my tears to flow.
To-day I fetched him from the rock;
He is the last of all my flock,
III
'When I was young, a single man,
And after youthful follies ran,
Though little given to care and thought,
Yet, so it was, an ewe I bought;
And other sheep from her I raised,
As healthy sheep as you might see;
And then I married, and was rich
As I could wish to be;
Of sheep I numbered a full score,
And every year increased my store.
IV
'Year after year my stock it grew;
And from this one, this single ewe,
Full fifty comely sheep I raised,
As fine a flock as ever grazed!
Upon the Quantock hills they fed;
They throve, and we at home did thrive:
--This lusty Lamb of all my store
Is all that is alive;
And now I care not if we die,
And perish all of poverty.
V
'Six Children, Sir! had I to feed;
Hard labour in a time of need!
My pride was tamed, and in our grief
I of the Parish asked relief.
They said, I was a wealthy man;
My sheep upon the uplands fed,
And it was fit that thence I took
Whereof to buy us bread.
'Do this: how can we give to you,'
They cried, 'what to the poor is due?'
VI
'I sold a sheep, as they had said,
And bought my little children bread,
And they were healthy with their food
For me--it never did me good.
A woeful time it was for me,
To see the end of all my gains,
The pretty flock which I had reared
With all my care and pains,
To see it melt like snow away--
For me it was a woeful day.
VII
'Another still! and still another!
A little lamb, and then its mother!
It was a vein that never stopped--
Like blood-drops from my heart they dropped.
'Till thirty were not left alive
They dwindled, dwindled, one by one
And I may say, that many a time
I wished they all were gone--
Reckless of what might come at last
Were but the bitter struggle past.
VIII
'To wicked deeds I was inclined,
And wicked fancies crossed my mind;
And every man I chanced to see,
I thought he knew some ill of me:
No peace, no comfort could I find,
No ease, within doors or without;
And, crazily and wearily
I went my work about;
And oft was moved to flee from home,
And hide my head where wild beasts roam.
IX
'Sir! 'twas a precious flock to me,
As dear as my own children be;
For daily with my growing store
I loved my children more and more.
Alas! it was an evil time;
God cursed me in my sore distress;
I prayed, yet every day I thought
I loved my children less;
And every week, and every day,
My flock it seemed to melt away.
X
'They dwindled, Sir, sad sight to see!
From ten to five, from five to three,
A lamb, a wether, and a ewe;--
And then at last from three to two;
And, of my fifty, yesterday
I had but only one:
And here it lies upon my arm,
Alas! and I have none;--
To-day I fetched it from the rock;
It is the last of all my flock.'
poem by William Wordsworth
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Earthbound for M lady Chitra lele
The geese fly south and leave behind
the bitter winter storms to come.
The gather, circle then they fly
a vee formation in the sky.
Exchanging leaders on the way,
almost as if a single mind
controls the flock mysteriously.
I watch and weep as they depart
I have no wings I cannot fly.
I am earth bound I can’t escape
the snow and ice which will confine me
with just my books for company.
Until my feathered friends return.
Their honking cries for which I yearn
will rouse me from my somnolence.
Alerting me to their presence.
I take my ink block and my brush
most carefully no cause for rush.
Inscribe my thoughts in black on white
to signify my great delight.
In my own style of poetry.
To hear again the geese converse.
Not in the style I wrote at court
but poetry of a simpler sort.
To prove I have not lost my skill
and dare to hope I never will.
Until the day they bury me
I will be writing poetry.
No longer in the kings employ
I use my leisure to enjoy
the use of my ability.
To write whatever pleases me.
18-Jul-08
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
Kushih style
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Never Had A Lot To Lose
I dont need no money, honey
Fortune and fame
cause I got all the riches, baby
That one man can claim
So take off your coat and close the door
Forget about your pride
Im not afraid of falling down
Or staying up all night
Youre gonna see it my way now
Dont try to bring me down
My lifes a circus, an insane chain of circumstances
I never had a lot to lose
I never let it slow me down
I never had a lot of love now, honey
Never had a lot to lose
I cant explain the time it takes
To make you understand
I know youll get to like it
If you only get the chance
I hope I get some time tonight
To see you comin round
What can I give you in return
For one night on the town
(chorus)
But not till daylight, not till daylight, not to daylight
Daylight, daylight, daylight, daylight, daylight, daylight, daylight, daylight, daylight, daylight
I tried to tell you
Its a pain you cant hide
My lifes a circus
An isane chain of circumstances
I never had a lot of love
I never had too much money
I never let it slow me down now, honey
I never had a lot to lose
song performed by by Cheap Trick
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Moose and the Goose
The mighty mad moose said to the gentle gliding goose,
“It’s not fair you fly in formation while I suffer much abuse.
Wind and breeze are there as you fly first class.
I’m down here on the ground fighting weeds and grass.”
The flock of geese had just landed for some food and rest,
And here is this mighty mad moose acting like a real pest.
But the head gliding goose had a gentle reply,
“Mighty mad moose you’re upset and I don’t know why.”
“Each year we chart the route for you mighty moose.
We’re the train’s engine, while you have freedom of a caboose.
Pay attention to our direction as we geese pass over;
Then you moose will know the way and have time for clover.”
Sir moose replied, “You fly south for winter and return in spring.
So all I have to do is remember that one important thing.
As I browse through trees and brush, I need to raise my eyes
To see you all as you map our way through the skies.”
The attitude of mighty moose changed from mad to glad,
Since he understood the treasure that he really always had.
As the gentle gliding geese flew off in formation,
Mighty moose smiled and tipped his antlers in appreciation.
poem by Gregory Huyette
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Clouds
Curly clouds of snowy white,
Fleecy islands in the light,
Prettier than cotton wool,
Come and be my bed tonight.
Even a king would not disdain
Golden cloud for counterpane,
White ones for the sheets so cool
Pillows like a silken skein!
Oh! To sleep and dream, and wake
With the cloud's first morning shake,
Hear the broad Earth stir below,
Watch the shinning daylight break!
Lying safe upon my cloud,
Feeling like a fairy proud,
Sailing softly I should go,
Singing like the larks aloud!
poem by Lawrence Hiung
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