After Collecting the Autumn Taxes
From my high castle I look at the town below
Where the natives of Pa cluster like a swarm of flies.
How can I govern these people and lead them aright?
I cannot even understand what they say.
But at least I am glad, now that the taxes are in,
To learn that in my province there is no discontent.
I fear its prosperity is not due to me
And was only caused by the year's abundant crops,
The papers that lie on my desk are simple and few;
My house by the moat is leisurely and still.
In the autumn rain the berries fall from the eaves;
At the evening bell the birds return to the wood.
A broken sunlight quavers over the southern porch
Where I lie on my couch abandoned of idleness.
Related quotes
Castle Walls
She ventured out from her castle walls
In hopes of meeting me,
I said: ‘we’ll flee to the furthest shores,
We’ll run to the far countree,
We’ll sit in bliss on a grassy slope
To see our love returned; ’
I looked again at the moat and saw
That all the boats were burned.
‘How shall I leave my castle walls
And all that keeps me free,
I fear the step that you wish to take
Could spell the end for me,
I wish to come, if I only dared, ’
She said in a sad reply,
The moat was still and the air was chill
And the moon was riding high.
I stood alone by the castle moat
As she turned to seek the warm;
‘The roads of life are a trap, ’ I cried,
‘But so is a thunderstorm,
So are the walls of a castle when
The mortar turns to dust,
So are the bolts on a castle gate
When the hinges start to rust.’
‘You weary me, I must be free, ’
The tower echoed, black,
‘As free as the castle walls allow, ’
I called in sadness back.
‘It’s not too late for the grassy slope
To see our love returned -’
I looked again at the moat and saw
That all the boats were burned.
12 July 1973
poem by David Lewis Paget
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A Memory For To Cherish
White butterflies are dancing in the warm evening breeze
And the house sparrows are chirping on the sunlit garden trees
On a warm day in April in the far Southern Fall
Of the Southern Land's four Seasons the most pleasant one of all,
I love this Autumn weather and though Winter days are near
One has to say of April 'tis a pleasant time of year
Above the sunlit paddock to and fro across the sunlit sky
The dark winged welcome swallows chasing flying insects fly,
With his tail ever wagging perched on a garden wall
The black and white fantail or willy wagtail a bird that's known to all
Always on the look out for insects airborne or on the ground
Where willy wagtails are present insects sure to abound,
Of this sunny late April evening in the far Southern Fall
A memory for to cherish and a memory to recall.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Holding On
Bounty
of landfall.
I am collecting your berries.
The castle
has connived with the moat
to end an era.
The first step
ends the journey.
An avatar has accepted the bribe.
Gather the tents
and return the sky.
My morale is sinking very low.
The dream
will wash the eyes
to read the book again.
poem by Satish Verma
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No more notes....
I pirouetted over quavers, leapt over demi semi quavers,
sang arias to the opera, cooed ballads to the radio.
From low to high, high to low, liquid music leapt from my throat,
it cascaded down like diamond rain drops in summer,
kisses from top C's, bathed me in happiness.
I let out emotions through music just like a breeze,
with ecstasy, with delightful pleasure.
Now my throat has closed, the melodies, unreachable.
All I can do is listen and even my hearing is not so sharp.
They tell you hearts are broken from lost loves,
nights of passion gone too quickly and discarded.
My heart is broken by the music, once so easy to my lips
and now impossible to reach.
poem by Ruth Walters
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Lost Voice
I pirouetted over quavers,
leapt over demi semi quavers,
sang arias to the opera,
cooed ballads to the radio.
From low to high, high to low,
liquid music leapt from my throat,
it cascaded down
like diamond rain drops in summer,
kisses from top C's, bathed me in happiness.
I let out emotions through music
just like a breeze,
with ecstasy, with delightful pleasure.
Now, my throat has closed,
the melodies, unreachable.
All I can do is listen
and even my hearing is not so sharp.
They tell you hearts are broken
from lost loves,
nights of passion gone too quickly and discarded.
My heart is broken by the music,
once so easy to my lips
and now impossible to reach.
poem by Ruth Walters
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rain comes again
Rain comes again
My coat is wet
With winks willing
To be a mystery
On the other day
Of rain shakes
The glass and I’m
Caught between
The mirror till
Now is now
Let it rain
Rain rain
Come back again
Till I put my
Wet booths on
And rain all
Over you rain
Rain comes end wise
Stay come and stay
Rain rain
The sky is gone
Cleaning rain
Insane with game
In town silence
Your name as
If you own me
Owing only to pace
Of our love
I drag you
Into tomorrow
Into rain rain
Silence your name
Across my chest
We missed the
Wood where
The dust hangs
High and far
Into the rain
Your feet
The darkness
Simplified the soul
That kills the rain
Rain and I
Have not been
A man who man me
Shall I tell
The rain the
Name of the game
My right to be
Is haunting bound
And this steel
Bound steel is
Bending under
The rain and
The wishes is blown
Again this year
And I will
Return to me
My homeland
No grave holds me
No grave can
Hold my body
Down this body
Is still my home of bones
And with it
I am strong
To return to
Me my homeland
A grace of home my
Body down.
poem by David E. Patton
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Premature
Pale berries fade to bright
Leaves green whisper autumn
Creasing brown and crisping - falling,
July parts with Summer sudden as fright.
Hedges swelling berries threaten indigo
Fallen Summer lightly crunches underfoot
Lazy spotted silk flits amongst the cabbages,
As rain drips and autumn winds blow.
Harvest dawns soon but now
It’s colours, winds and crops grow,
Fattening Moon and Sun to lingering orange
Swelling cold to comfort woe.
28-7-05
poem by Laura Russell
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Taxes On The Farmer Feeds Us All
(traditional, adapted by ry cooder)
(d) - (a) - (e)
(a) we worked through spring and winter, through (d) summer and through (a) fall
But the mortgage worked the hardest and the (e) steadiest of us all
It (a) worked on nights and sundays, it (d) worked each holiday
(e) settled down among us and it never went (a) away
The farmer comes to town with his wagon broken down
The farmer is the man who feeds us all
If you only look and see I know you will agree
That the farmer is the man who feeds us all
(a) the farmer is the man, the farmer is the man
He buys on his credit until (e) fall
Then they (a) take him by the hand
And they (d) lead him from his land
And the (e) merchant is the man who gets it (a) all
The farmer is the man, the farmer is the man
He lives on his credit until fall
With the interest rates so high
Its a wonder he dont die
But the taxes on the farmer feeds us all
Well, the banker says hes broke and the merchant stops and smoke
But they forget that its the farmer that feeds them all
It would put them to the test if the farmer took a rest
And theyd know that its the farmer that feeds them all
The farmer is the man, the farmer is the man
Lives on his credit until fall
Well, his pants are wearing thin
His condition, its a sin
cause the taxes on the farmer feeds us all
song performed by by Ry Cooder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Early Evening Before Worship
Early evening before worship
my uncle watched the sky,
looking at the gathering clouds
and later when it started to rain
I found him on the porch,
with the dog lying at his feet,
deep from the house a woman’s voice called
but we said nothing to each other,
just saw the rain falling down with thunder strokes,
smelling the odour of the wet earth
and it was as if our lives were suddenly clean
while the swallows was diving down to their nests
and on the porch we were and the God of the universe,
while the rain fell clattering from heaven.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Sandman
Aint it foggy outside
All the planes have been grounded
Aint the fire inside?
Lets all go stand around it
Funny, Ive been there
And youve been here
And we aint had no time to drink that beer
cause I understand youve been running from the man
That goes by the name of the sandman
He flies the sky like an eagle in the eye
Of a hurricane thats abandoned
Aint the years gone by fast
I suppose you have missed them
Oh, I almost forgot to ask
Did you hear of my enlistment?
Funny, Ive been there
And youve been here
And we aint had no time to drink that beer
cause I understand youve been running from the man
That goes by the name of the sandman
He flies the sky like an eagle in the eye
Of a hurricane thats abandoned
I understand youve been running from the man
That goes by the name of the sandman
He flies the sky like an eagle in the eye
Of a hurricane thats abandoned
I understand youve been running from the man
That goes by the name of the sandman
He flies the sky like an eagle in the eye
Of a hurricane thats abandoned
I understand youve been running from the man
That goes by the name of the sandman
He flies the sky like an eagle in the eye
Of a hurricane thats abandoned
song performed by by America
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Paperback Town
Writers: leo sayer & alan tarney
Imagine the space as it used to be
There were fields of corn
There were big oak trees
But a woman in a suit bulldozed it clear
Built a concrete world full of crocodile tears
And we dont understand
That we all have a part in a government plan
Its a hard shot
To be the people in the place that the world forgot
In a paperback town
But I know I know I know we can be free
Though no guardian angel up above
Has kept an eye on me
And at night I listen to the sirens moan
For a broken heart from a broken home
So many people are so alone
In a paperback town
And one day soon Im gonna write it all down
I live my life in a paperback town
Oooh--in a paperback town
Oooh--in a paperback town
Im gonna take my troubles
Gonna pack my bags
Gonna fly my kite for a different flag
Ill sing my song
From the top of the hill
When the night is cold
And the wind is chill
cos I dont understand
Why I should be part of another mans plan
Its a hard shot
For the people in the place
That the world forgot
In a paperback town
Live and die here
In a paperback town
Wonder why here
In a paperback town
But I know I know I know we can be free |
Though no guardian angel up above
Has kept an eye on me
And at night I listen to the rain fall down
And I shake with the fear that we all will drown
But my words dont even make a sound
In a paperback town
And one day soon Im gonna write it all down
I live my life in a paperback town
song performed by by Leo Sayer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sound Of The Bell
Found a place where we can talk
I found a way to reach a little ground
Keep your castle in my sandbox
Build it up so we can burn it down
Anyway I love my man
Love to keep him spinning round and round
Keep him feeling love for my hand
Any way to turn him inside out
I dont wanna go down like the sunlight
I dont wanna go out like the moonlight
I dont wanna be found at the sound of the bell
The sound of the bell
The sound of the bell
Meet me up and down again
Every time is sweeter than the last
Once you get a taste of impact
Youre always hungry for the crash
I dont wanna go down like the sunlight
I dont wanna go out like the moonlight
I dont wanna be found at the sound of the bell
The sound of the bell
The sound of the bell
And this is everything
I have loved
Yeah, I have loved
Break...
My...
Heart...
Down, I dont wanna go down like the sunlight
I dont wanna go out like the moonlight
I dont wanna be found at the sound of the bell
The sound of the bell
The sound of the bell
I dont wanna go down like the sunlight
I dont wanna go out like the moonlight
I dont wanna be found at the sound of the bell
The sound of the bell
The sound of the bell
Yeah...
(I dont wanna be found in the sunshine
I dont wanna be dim like a night light
I dont wanna be down like the sunlight
I dont wanna go out like the moonlight...)
song performed by by Veruca Salt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Immortal Autumn
I speak this poem now with grave and level voice
In praise of autumn, of the far-horn-winding fall.
I praise the flower-barren fields, the clouds, the tall
Unanswering branches where the wind makes sullen noise.
I praise the fall: it is the human season.
Now
No more the foreign sun does meddle at our earth,
Enforce the green and bring the fallow land to birth,
Nor winter yet weigh all with silence the pine bough,
But now in autumn with the black and outcast crows
Share we the spacious world: the whispering year is gone:
There is more room to live now: the once secret dawn
Comes late by daylight and the dark unguarded goes.
Between the mutinous brave burning of the leaves
And winter’s covering of our hearts with his deep snow
We are alone: there are no evening birds: we know
The naked moon: the tame stars circle at our eaves.
It is the human season. On this sterile air
Do words outcarry breath: the sound goes on and on.
I hear a dead man’s cry from autumn long since gone.
I cry to you beyond upon this bitter air.
poem by Archibald MacLeish
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Rain on me
I’m in this world all alone
This feeling is so hard to bear
Stop playing games with me
It’s not fair
My heart is on fire
And you caused that
Now my only desire
Is to distinguish this fire
Let it rain
Let the water
Wash my fate
Let’s not be too late
Rain on me
I can hear the rain droplets
I can feel my fear, pain and agony
This feeling will never let me be fine
The tears rolled down my cheeks
The memories are coming back to me
Its raining
My heart is pouring
I can hear the raindrops
But why do I feel this feeling is dull
What sin did I commit?
That I got this punishment
Don’t you understand?
You shall sow as you reap
The world is crying with me
Because they believe it’s wrong
I will get justice
Before it’s too long
Rain on me
You gave me sorrows
In return
I will give you the same
And then will you be satisfied?
I know for a fact
That you will regret
The world is crying
It’s screaming for its right
Just let the raindrops fall on us
Rain on me
Let it rain
Wash everything away like an eraser
Just rain on me
What did you get?
What did you benefit?
In doing all this
What was it?
Why do people make others suffer, why is injustice always done.
Why not justice. Why was I bullied, discriminated?
Why were others abused?
Why did others have to face so much?
Let it rain
Let it rain
Let it rain
Let it rain
Just rain on me
RAIN ON ME
poem by Maryam Kazmi
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Poem In October
It was my thirtieth year to heaven
Woke to my hearing from harbour and neighbour wood
And the mussel pooled and the heron
Priested shore
The morning beckon
With water praying and call of seagull and rook
And the knock of sailing boats on the net webbed wall
Myself to set foot
That second
In the still sleeping town and set forth.
My birthday began with the water-
Birds and the birds of the winged trees flying my name
Above the farms and the white horses
And I rose
In rainy autumn
And walked abroad in a shower of all my days.
High tide and the heron dived when I took the road
Over the border
And the gates
Of the town closed as the town awoke.
A springful of larks in a rolling
Cloud and the roadside bushes brimming with whistling
Blackbirds and the sun of October
Summery
On the hill's shoulder,
Here were fond climates and sweet singers suddenly
Come in the morning where I wandered and listened
To the rain wringing
Wind blow cold
In the wood faraway under me.
Pale rain over the dwindling harbour
And over the sea wet church the size of a snail
With its horns through mist and the castle
Brown as owls
But all the gardens
Of spring and summer were blooming in the tall tales
Beyond the border and under the lark full cloud.
There could I marvel
My birthday
Away but the weather turned around.
It turned away from the blithe country
And down the other air and the blue altered sky
Streamed again a wonder of summer
With apples
Pears and red currants
And I saw in the turning so clearly a child's
Forgotten mornings when he walked with his mother
Through the parables
Of sun light
And the legends of the green chapels
And the twice told fields of infancy
That his tears burned my cheeks and his heart moved in mine.
These were the woods the river and sea
Where a boy
In the listening
Summertime of the dead whispered the truth of his joy
To the trees and the stones and the fish in the tide.
And the mystery
Sang alive
Still in the water and singingbirds.
And there could I marvel my birthday
Away but the weather turned around. And the true
Joy of the long dead child sang burning
In the sun.
It was my thirtieth
Year to heaven stood there then in the summer noon
Though the town below lay leaved with October blood.
O may my heart's truth
Still be sung
On this high hill in a year's turning.
poem by Dylan Thomas
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That Year's Autumn Leaves
Darling, do you remember that year’s autumn leaves?
Perhaps it was your aura, but they were the prettiest and keenest I’ve ever seen
Strolling through the park, hand in hand, the foliage crunched lightly under our feet
Such a simple, yet transcendent, treat
That year’s autumn leaves were red and gold
Thinking of them now strikes a pleasant, if somewhat melancholic, chord
The days you walked with me like the Lord
And you were
That year’s autumn leaves and you
Contentedness shared by us two
Harmonic Convergence bestowed on the lucky few
Peace of mind that I knew
Nat King Cole said it best: “Since you went away the days grow long…”
This is evidenced by many of my poems and songs
Many people, sometimes myself, think I should stop, that it’s wrong
The creative outlet, however, is too strong
That year’s autumn leaves were actually summer daze
I just love the original song, and now this unique turn of phrase
Both recall an almost alien phase
Mr. Mercer, I give you all the praise
That year’s autumn leaves were you
They may not have existed, but it’s a metaphor any romantic would die for
I would
Would you?
That year’s autumn leaves were the best autumn has ever produced
At least until we walk in the park in the fall again…or whenever you choose
poem by Yoni Assis
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Lonesome Town
Theres a place where lovers go
To cry their troubles away
And we call it lonesome town
Where the broken hearts stay
You can buy a dream or two
To last you all through the years
And the only price you pay
Is heart full of tears
Going down to lonesome town, where the broken hearts stay
Im going down to lonesome town, to cry my troubles away
And in the town of broken dreams
The streets are filled with regret
Maybe down in lonesome town
Well I can learn to forget
Lead solo
Going down to lonesome town, where the lonely hearts stay
Im going down to lonesome town, to cry, to cry my troubles away
And in the town of broken dreams
The streets are filled with regret
Maybe down in lonesome town
I can learn to forget
Maybe down in lonesome town
I can learn to forget
song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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That Evening....
that evening i smell the stinking truth
hidden inside your rain
clothes
when i get near you i am badly
bitten
by its sharp teeth
its forked tongue
makes me tremble
but because i love you
i swallowed all these in the deepest
layer of
patience
i shall enter the castle of your being
and so i still have to swim
this moat.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Lily-Bell and Thistledown Song II
Thistledown in prison sings:
Bright shines the summer sun,
Soft is the summer air;
Gayly the wood-birds sing,
Flowers are blooming fair.
But, deep in the dark, cold rock,
Sadly I dwell,
Longing for thee, dear friend,
Lily-Bell! Lily-Bell!
Lily-Bell replies:
Through sunlight and summer air
I have sought for thee long,
Guided by birds and flowers,
And now by thy song.
Thistledown! Thistledown!
O'er hill and dell
Hither to comfort thee
Comes Lily-Bell.
poem by Louisa May Alcott
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November Cotton Flower
Boll-weevil's coming, and the winter's cold,
Made cotton-stalks look rusty, seasons old,
And cotton, scarce as any southern snow,
Was vanishing; the branch, so pinched and slow,
Failed in its function as the autumn rake;
Drouth fighting soil had caused the soil to take
All water from the streams; dead birds were found
In wells a hundred feet below the ground--
Such was the season when the flower bloomed.
Old folks were startled, and it soon assumed
Significance. Superstition saw
Something it had never seen before:
Brown eyes that loved without a trace of fear,
Beauty so sudden for that time of year.
poem by Jean Toomer
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