The Old Place
SO the last day’s come at last, the close of my fifteen year—
The end of the hope, an’ the struggles, an’ messes I’ve put in here.
All of the shearings over, the final mustering done,—
Eleven hundred an’ fifty for the incoming man, near on.
Over five thousand I drove ’em, mob by mob, down the coast;
Eleven-fifty in fifteen year…it isn’t much of a boast.
Oh, it’s a bad old place! Blown out o’ your bed half the nights,
And in the summer the grass burnt shiny an’ bare as your hand, on the heights:
The creek dried up by November, and in May a thundering roar
That carries down toll o’ your stock to salt ’em whole on the shore.
Clear’d I have, and I’ve clear’d an’ clear’d, yet everywhere, slap in your face,
Briar, tauhinu, 1 an’ ruin! God! it’s a brute of a place.
…An’ the house got burnt which I built, myself, with all that worry and pride;
Where the Missus was always homesick, and where she took fever, and died.
Yes, well! I’m leaving the place. Apples look red on that bough.
I set the slips with my own hand. Well—they’re the other man’s now.
The breezy bluff: an’ the clover that smells so over the land,
Drowning the reek o’ the rubbish, that plucks the profit out o’ your hand:
That bit o’ Bush paddock I fall’d myself, an’ watch’d, each year, come clean
(Don’t it look fresh in the tawny? A scrap of Old-Country green):
This air, all healthy with sun an’ salt, an’ bright with purity:
An’ the glossy karakas 2 there, twinkling to the big blue twinkling sea:
Aye, the broad blue sea beyond, an’ the gem-clear cove below,
Where the boat I’ll never handle again; sits rocking to and fro:
There’s the last look to it all! an’ now for the last upon
This room, where Hetty was born, an’ my Mary died, an’ John…
Well! I’m leaving the poor old place, and it cuts as keen as a knife;
The place that’s broken my heart—the place where I’ve lived my life.
poem by Blanche Edith Baughan
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Related quotes
When The Coast Is Clear
By: jimmy buffett, mac mcanally
For emery clark, who paints it better than I can say it
Theyre closin down the hangout
The air is turnin cool
Theyre shuttin off the superslide
The kids are back in school
The tourist traps are empty
Vacancy abounds
Almost like it used to be
Before the circus came to town
Chorus:
Thats when it always happens
The same time every year
I come down to talk to me
When the coast is clear
Hello mister other me
Its been a long long time
We hardly get to have these chats
That in itselfs a crime
So tell me all your troubles
Ill surely tell you mine
Well laugh and smoke and cuss and joke and
Have a glass of wine
Chorus:
Thats where it always happens
The same place every year
I come down to talk to me
When the coast is clear
(instrumental)
(its the only place he knows)
Where it always happens
The same place every year
I still come down to talk to me
When the coast is clear
song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Piece Of Myself... And For Myself
people in my place worry about me
why i do not worry about next year
the next planting season after this year's bumpy harvest where every room in the house is filled with corn.
people in my place ask me where shall i live after next year
and you should soon inherit the house that i built for 50 years.
they all worry about me with all those particular items like what shall happen
to the glasses in my cabinet
or the white car in my blue garage
or my gold watch and my silver spoons and my china plates
they worry about my gold fish in my aquarium
who shall feed them when i am no longer home
people worry a lot about me
and i begin sometimes when i get tired listening to all the questions
asking: why me? why do you worry all about me?
i am not even dead yet and have no plans retiring from life's works
like the arts and this
pottery and this poetry
people worry about me
and never about us.
i am tired and all i need is sleep.
and i do not worry at all.
because i know that if i am dead
then i am dead
and i do not ask for more
not even on extended dreams
not even on anything
perhaps they worry about me because they all worry about themselves
perhaps i am their mirror
or perhaps they think that with my behavior
i should not have lived
in the first place.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Mac
In every little country place, all up and down the land,
From ageing cradles of the race to Never-Never Land
From the towns about the cities to the little towns out back,
There dwells a man of all trades; and he's mostly known as 'Mac.'
He's dwelt there since the Lord knows when and never seems to die;
And everybody, now and then, when his present job is thro' -
And twenty other little jobs that he has still to do.
A plumbing job, a painting job, a bit of fence to mend;
They want him in a hurry; and he's everybody's friend.
Kettle-mending, carpentry, a bit of scrub to cut -
There's nothing comes amiss to him - a door that will not shut,
A safe that will not open, or a roof that hangs askew,
A plough to mend, a pump to tend - there's nothing he can't do.
He has never learned a single trade, yet somehow has the knack;
And, no matter what the trouble is, it's safe to send for 'Mac.'
He never makes much money, yet he never seems to care,
Tho' a dozen jobs await him, he has heaps of time to spare -
A friendly yarn, a cup of tea, a piece of sage advice,
He's willing for them every day, and never counts the price
Of half an hour or half a day spent in a neighbor's need.
He sells his toil, but not his time. For what is time, indeed,
Save for a man to labor in just as he feels inclined?
So, if Smith's job amuses him, Brown's job can lag behind.
In every little country place he's known, or once was known,
Ere the urge that men call Progress claimed the broad earth for its own,
When man found pride in labor and the cunning of his hand,
Nor set a price in money on the arts he could command.
And many a little country place with pride today can show
Some sturdy structure 'built by 'Mac' nigh fifty year ago.'
Oh, they jerry-built their palaces; but many a stout bush shack
Shall stand to honor workmanship of that proud workman, 'Mac.'
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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No Place To Land
Corporate suits and their mannequin men
Swear they have the plan
Less money comes, more money goes
We have no place to land
Business wantons and renegade deceivers
Pass laws from hand to hand
As steel, glass and concrete crumble
Leaving us with no place to land
Big business thrives on sordid affairs
Putting blinders on the average man
Courtesans of lies and great illusion
Abandon us, leaving no place to land
poem by Edwin Robinette
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Next Train
Well I finally found tomorrow
'Cause I just now found today
But I'm left with all the sorrow
Lingering from yesterday
So I'm leaving this behind on the next train
To what place, well I don't know
When I leave I may not ride on the best train
But it's time for me to let go
Well I'd love for you to be there
On the day I say goodbye
But I've lost too much to your stare
To even waste a sigh
So I'm leaving this behind on the next train
To what place, well I don't know
When I leave I may not ride on the best train
But it's time for me to let go
Yes it's time for me to let go
You're the drug that's in my veins
You lift me up and leave me pain
I'm broken, beaten, barely sane
And I'm leaving on the next train
I gladly stayed to wade it through
And find out what I've meant to you
Now it's clear to me this time
So I'm leaving this behind
So I'm leaving this behind on the next train
To what place, well I don't know
When I leave I may not ride on the best train
But it's time for me to let go
So I'm leaving this behind on the next train
To what place, well I don't know
When I leave I may not ride on the best train
But it's time for me to let go
Yes it's time for me to let go
song performed by by Hanson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Definition of happiness
ITS A place we have all been to:
a place were difficulties are forgotten
were only joyful events are certain
its a place you cant go to everyday
when you get there not long enough you can stay
a place safe and secure
a shield that deflects any bad thing that could accrue
a place were poise and pride are not neglected
a place were negative thoughts, ideas are not selected
a place far away from here
a place that does not recognize fear
a place that needs along time to get to
yet you arrive and forget any negative thing you have been through
a place that effects so deep
a place were you cant fall asleep
a place that does not exist
yet we have all been there I still insist
a place that’s not defined as a dream or a fantasy
a place that is only called happiness and ecstasy
Yet it is the most beautiful place
where sound of laughter and shape of smile race
on ones face like it would be in grace
poem by Ayesha Sartawi
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Deep Blue Heart
Written by John Mellencamp
Daylight is leaving
And the night is closing in
In just a few hours
The sleeplessness begins again
My head feels thick
And I'm unable to think
I guess I'll wait 'til tomorrow
And see what it brings
I have a little hope left
And I guess that's someplace to start
But my memory's full
Of a deep blue heart.
My fun-loving sense of humor
Is nowhere to be found
I stare into my own eyes
With tears flowing down
I'd sing out a song
But I've forgotten the tune
And the words now escape me
But I think it's about you
My vision now is way out in the dark
With just a little sight left
Of a deep blue heart
I see us both flying
In the clear blue sky
Floating out on the ocean
With the sun in our eyes
Caught in a moment
Just me and you
In complete honesty
Where everything is true
That's what I wanted to believe
Right from the start
Just a little place for myself
In a deep blue heart
Carve out a place for myself
In your deep blue heart
song performed by by John Mellencamp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Coming Home
It’s forty years since I’ve been in this house,
mum sold it soon after father died.
The owners changed it into a Chinese takeaway
which grew bamboo shoots outside.
Since then I’ve moved about like a gypsy
journeying from place to place.
Recently I returned to my old neighbourhood,
and yet to see a familiar face.
And now I’m standing in the Chinese takeaway,
the place where I was born and bred.
When I left here it was my mum and dad’s café,
with an alley, back yard, and shed.
In 1944 they bought this bomb damaged house,
with its old bicycle repair shop,
but they changed it into a ‘second hand’ business,
selling clothes, boots, and what not.
In 1949 it became an ice-cream parlour,
which evolved into a transport café.
For almost thirty years that’s how it remained,
until the year dad passed away.
poem by Orlando Belo
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Paradise Valley
can't think straight my mind is covered with clouds
no doubt what I'm talking about;
I've never seen a place like this I miss no bliss
how could I ever forget how it feels, how it heals,
my wound, my blood, whatever pain my soul has got
these waters so clear
near and far all I can hear
rustle of leaves and insects hummin on trees
no place like this - no place like this
paradise valley
the sun reflects some billion glitters of water
direct in my face but I can't take my eyes of this place
so peaceful, beautiful, it flows all into one
meadows, mountains, I, the sky
so close I can never feel to gods own miracle
and then I see, I see that eagle fly
no place like this - no place like this
paradise valley
song performed by by H-BlockX
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Get Out The Map
Im gonna clear my head
Im gonna drink that sun
The saddest sight my eyes can see
Is that big ball of orange sinking slyly down the trees
Sittin in a broken circle while you rest upon my knee
This perfect moment will soon be leaving me
Suzanne calls from boston the coffees hot the corn is high
And that same sun that warms your heart will suck the good earth dry
With everything its opposite enough to keep you crying
Or keep this old world spinning with a twinkle in its eye
Get out the map
Get out the map and lay your finger anywhere down
Well leave the figuring to those we pass on our way out of town
Dont drink the water there seems to be something ailing everyone
Im gonna clear my head
Im gonna drink that sun
Im gonna love you good and strong while our love is good and young
Joni left for south africa a few years ago
And then beth took a job all the way over on the west coast
And me Im still trying to live half a life on the road
Seems Im heavier by the year
(heavier by the year)
And heavier by the load
(heavier by the load)
Why do we hurtle ourselves through every inch of time and space
I must say around some corner I can sense a resting place
With every lesson learned a line upon your beautiful face
Well amuse ourselves one day with these memories well trace
Get out the map
Get out the map and lay your finger anywhere down
Well leave the figuring to those we pass on our way out of town
Dont drink the water there seems to be something ailing everyone
Im gonna clear my head
(Im gonna clear my head)
Im gonna drink that sun
(Im gonna drink that sun)
Im gonna love you good and strong while our love is good and young
Im gonna clear my head
Im gonna drink that sun
Im gonna love you good and strong while our love is good and young
song performed by by Indigo Girls
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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That Fifty Year Old Woman
That fifty year old woman
she is someones mother
that fifty year old woman
she is someones lover
them fifty years of her life
unseen by a cover.
Covered by the leaves
from the autumn trees is the grass
surrounded by blue tape
and nosey people who pretend to pass
a group of actors walk by
they have come from a history class
to make history new
with conversation with questions to ask.
A fifty year old woman
in an autumn so cold
a fifty year old woman
seen dark winter unfold
them fifty years of life
it is all we are told.
The actors, they didn't get any information
they did not get pictures
nothing known about the situation
nothing at all to discuss
fifty years of age is all thats said
on the morning paper on the fifty bus
thats all thats said
a fifty year old woman, shes found dead.
That fifty year old woman
shes not someones mother
that fifty year old woman
how she had no lover
them fifty years of life
unseen by a cover.
That fifty year old woman
she was quoted in the paper today
that fifty year old woman will be gone tomorrow
the writers they will show no sorrow
because its the way things work
as people pass
she no longer lies on grass
shes covered in dirt.
poem by Daniel McCann
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Sonnet 15
Perfect morning sunrise
Nature's beauty all round
Nothing but blue clear sky
And all the ocean sounds
The sand is soft and clean
Another wave rushes on in
Such a place to daydream
What a day to simply grin
Ships pass by one by on
A lonely seashell on sand
The crisp air kissed by sun
We walk luv hand in hand
Thankful I am for this day
Life gets better in every way
poem by Suelynn Walters
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Transformation
Come with me, I'll take you now
To a place that you fear
For no reason why
Your heart has turned away from me
And I will make you understand
Everything will become clear to you
When you see things through
another's eyes
Everything will become clear to you
Whatever's meant for you, you will find
Come with me, I'll take you there
To a place where you'll see
Everything you need to be the one
you need to be
And all of those things that you feared
Will disappear from you in time
Everything will become clear to you
When you see things through
another's eyes
Everything will become clear to you
Whatever's meant for you, you will find
song performed by by Phil Collins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Warmth Of The Sand (Demo Version)
Relax and stand, in the warmth of the sand
The day is long and here for us to take for granted
And find ourselves to our knees
The water clear, the tender breeze upon our faces
As we bask in our good graces
Yeah, we all are golden here
In summer, in summer
Where night belongs to lust and lovers
In summer, in summer
And I appear to win you over
You will be mine this year (this year, this year, this year)
The sun is set, and the, the moon is high
The night is long and here for you and I to capture
We float ourselves to the gills, with icy drinks that bolster wills
And we are braver for the moment
Yeah, we all are golden here
In summer, in summer
Where all the girls bare olive shoulders
In summer, in summer
And I appear to win you over
You will be mine this year (this year, this year, this year)
The courtyard where the garden stands
Behind the beach at Crystal Sands
We shed our clothes and felt romantic
Tempted by the moon fantastic
Bright and warm and ours alone
Absolve us from the sins we own
And from one year into another
I think of you and I feel summer
In summer, in summer
Where all the girls bare olive shoulders
In summer, in summer
Where all you hope for is another
In summer, in summer
Where night belongs to lust and lovers
In summer, in summer
And I appear to win you over
You will be mine this year
(this year, this year, this year, this year, this year, this year, this year)
song performed by by Dashboard Confessional
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Did You Know
Did you know that love can grow any place where people go,
And I can tell by what I see that you have found a place with me.
The sun is high the day is new and
I have found a place with you.
Ev'ry place and ev'ry face casts a spell and leaves a trace,
With you in mind and with you near, the myth is gone, the past is clear
And here with scars of now and then so you and I begin again.
Did you know I've been searchin'? Did you know I've been blind?
Did you know I've been touchin' anything I could find?
Did you know that here below, moving where my feelings flow,
You live with me in time that's new, suspended in a love that's true
And far beyond the fatal noise and bathed in all life's simple joys.
Did you know that love can grow any place where people go,
And I can tell by what I see that you have found a place with me.
song performed by by Don McLean
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ice Man
From Cap de Hault to Frenchman's Lease
Lies seven miles of moving ice,
A lady comes there once or twice a year
To view that precipice.
The glacier, that tortuously
Grinds along that deep moraine
Is known to all as 'Adam's Fault',
And Eve despairs the bleak terrain.
Eve Grise de Mare du Montalban
The countess from her place of fame,
Who played coquettish with her fan
When first to Adam's Fault she came.
Gervase and I both courted Eve
But she played him, and then played me,
The contest was uneven, for
Gervase was old nobility.
We both enjoyed a hearty climb
And took our contest to the 'Fault',
Who first would conquer Frenchman's Lease
And reach the peak, should win it all;
The right to ask the lady's hand,
To claim the prize of her by right,
The loser, then, would quit the scene,
Would disappear him, overnight.
The day was cold, a storm was due,
We set out with our picks and rope,
The ice was clear as rippled glass
As we ascended up the slope.
We'd made three of the seven miles
Before the storm burst over us,
Gervase was slightly in the lead
But stopped beside the Fault to rest.
The glacier was close beside
When I pulled up to shelter, then
A crevice, fifteen metres wide
Had opened up, quite close to him.
Gervase half turned, the blinding sleet
Reduced our vision down to naught,
He sought direction with his feet
And pitched head first into the Fault.
The depth seemed bottomless, I heard
Eventually, a distant thud,
Gervase had hit the glacier floor
And I was certain he was dead.
The storm, in one short hour had flown,
I turned and headed down again
To summon help, but he was gone;
I never saw Gervase again.
A year had passed, I asked my Eve
Her hand in marriage, and she wept;
I knew she loved Gervase, not me,
But he had gone… She would accept;
On one condition, that we two
Would journey back to Adam's Fault
Each year, until the glacier
Delivered up its grisly vault.
I had agreed, for then I knew
How slow the glacial ice would flow,
To bring that body down the Fault
Might take a hundred years or so.
But warming of the planet's face,
In recent years, increased its speed,
Though forty seven years had passed
Gervase would surface soon, indeed.
Last season, workers on the slopes
Had claimed to see a darkened shape
Deep in the ice at Cap de Hault,
But too deep to negotiate.
My mouth went dry, and I perspired
To think of that unholy hour
When Eve would see her love, Gervase
And set that love, again, on fire.
This year, I begged her not to go:
'We're getting old, too old for this, '
I pleaded, but her mouth was set:
'We must be there for our Gervase! '
A week went by, and then the call:
'A man lies underneath the ice,
We see him clear, ' the worker said,
'He's staring, looking up at us! '
So Eve and I walked up the slope
To see Gervase, entombed in ice,
He looked much as I'd left him there,
Eve sighed and wept: 'My poor Gervase! '
'He's just a boy! ' she sobbed, and looked
Surprised he wasn't old, like us,
The world had aged, and so had we
But he had travelled with less fuss.
And so I'm back, have locked our room
And left Eve to her love, Gervase,
I have a need to write my gloom
Before they take him from that place,
For when they pull that body free
From fifty years of shifting ice,
She'll see what she's not meant to see
Emerge from that old precipice.
For when they roll him from his bed
While Eve looks on, remembering,
I'll long have left this place of dread,
One bullet, swift, dismembering,
Will leave no pain, no guilt behind
Unlike the corpse of her Gervase,
Unlike the ice pick in his spine…
The shock and horror, on her face!
22 April 2008
poem by David Lewis Paget
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Overture -- Cotton Avenue
A red sun came rolling down a grey sky
And the frogs and dogs and night birds then
Started up singing sweet country lullaby
You see that patch of city lights-
Somewhere in there's Cotton Avenue-
That's where I'm going to take myself tonight
With a spit shine on my dancing shoes
If you got a place like that to go
You just have to go there
If you got no place special
Well then, you just go no place special
I guess it's just the summer in the young blood
Ripe and juicy in the young blood
Teasing to go down to ...
Cotton Avenue
To hear the shiny shiny music
See all the shiny people dancing to it
Anytime you go to ...
Cotton Avenue
If you got a place like that to go
You know you got to go there
If you got no place special
Well then, you just go no place special
You see that summer storm brewing in the southern sky
By the time it hits here I'll be dancing high and dry
To rhythm and blues
On Cotton Avenue
Poor boys'll be hanging around outside in the street
They got all the latest words
They're dancing to the latest beat
While they're hustling and sizing you
On Cotton Avenue
If you got a place like that to go
You just have to go there
If you've got no place special
Well my dear
You just so no place ... special
song performed by by Joni Mitchell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ode To Big Blue
The oceans of the world were the home of big blue
He was the greatest monster that the world ever knew
And the place that he loved best
Was the waters to the west
Around the blue pacific he did roam
Big blue moved alone for a mighty blue was he
And the battles of the whales was an awesome sight to see
And he took them one by one and he drove them all away
In the mating of the day he was the king
Big blue had fifty wives and he sired forty sons
Though most of them feel victim to the cruel harpoon guns
Ah but he was too much wise to get caught by the gunners eyes
And so he lived at sea a hundred years
His mouth was as large as a tunnel so they say
His hide was thick as leather and his eyes quick and small
And his back was all scarred by the times he got away
And he knew the smell of whalers did big blue
Big blue passed away to his natural decay
Beside the arctic circle as he travelled up that way
And there never was a man who was born with a gunners hand
Who ever took a pan to big blue
Now the gray whale has run and the sperm is almost done
The finbacks and the greenland rights have all passed and gone
Theyve been taken by the men for the money they could spend
And the killing never ends, it just goes on
The oceans of the earth were the home of big blue
He was the greatest monster that the world ever knew
And the place that he loved best was the waters to the west
Around the blue pacific he did roam
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Place I Love!
The Place I Love!
You’ll never guess the place where I’ve been,
You’ll never believe the things I have seen,
I’ve been to a place that’s hidden from most,
To a secret place, off the north east coast.
It’s quiet, remote, and way off the track,
A place once visited, you’ll long to go back.
A place where rare birds, from Kittiwake, to tern,
Fly to far away places, to always return.
Where the shells on the sand lie, undisturbed,
And the Puffins of Farne, may nest, un-perturbed.
Where the mighty North Sea, meets the place I would be,
To the Farne isles, up north, in the coaly North Sea.
Where the fishermen steer clear, so as not to upset,
This wonderful wildlife, few people have met,
For here is a place, where few folk have been,
Where the fish can swim free, and the waters are clean.
Where the dolphin and seal, may swim side by side,
Where they breed and play courtship, with no need to hide,
Where “flatties”, and haddock, reproduce in large number,
Far, far away, from the industrious Humber!
Go visit, …The North East of England.
poem by Derek. A. Sim
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Lost
(1/21/12)
I was lost in a world of my own
Traveling through the valleys of my mind
Where there was only space and no time.
A place where minds go to be free
And musicians playing in harmony.
Where voices of the best singers
Would gather around and put
Together the greatest sounds.
A place where you can be yourself
And not have to listen to anyone else.
A place where you can be lost in
the thoughts of your mind
And be there till the ends of your time
A place of imaginations and dreams
And of places seen and unseen.
Everyone no matter who they may be
Has been in this place of mystery.
We start off when we’re very young
A place that we go to have some fun.
Then as we get into our teenage years
We start to travel more and lose our fears.
We start to visualize what we would
Like to be, set our goals, and set
Our hearts and minds free.
Our hearts and spirit so clear and bright
Which turns our darkness into light.
All we see is the clear path ahead
Where so many before have tread.
So allow yourself to get lost in
The caverns of your mind
You’ll be amazed at what you’ll find.
poem by Louis Rams
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