In Progress
Ten years ago it seemed impossible
That she should ever grow so calm as this,
With self-remembrance in her warmest kiss
And dim dried eyes like an exhausted well.
Slow-speaking when she had some fact to tell,
Silent with long-unbroken silences,
Centered in self yet not unpleased to please,
Gravely monotonous like a passing bell.
Mindful of drudging daily common things,
Patient at pastime, patient at her work,
Wearied perhaps but strenuous certainly.
Sometimes I fancy we may one day see
Her head shoot forth seven stars from where they lurk
And her eyes lightnings and her shoulders wings.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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The Patient
Think of the patient;
Hear his cry;
With pain and suff’ring,
Eyes go dry.
Think of his poor state
And his mind;
His diseased body,
Doctors find.
Think of the patient
His travail;
Him from agony;
None can bail.
Think of the disease
Without cure;
Man lives for God’s sake:
And endure.
Think of his doomed fate;
None can change;
If drugs still work ’tis
From God’s range.
Think of the patient,
His family;
Can you give succor?
For what fee?
poem by John Celes
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Psycopathia Sexualis
Case 19)
X., peasant, aged thirty-four and a half; Sun-Worshipper. Father and Mother were hard drinkers. Since his fifth year patient has had epileptic convulsions-i.e. he falls down unconscious, lies still two or three minutes, and then gets up and runs directly with staring eyes towards the Sun. Sexuality was first manifested at seventeen. The patient had inclinations neither for women nor for men, but for constellations (stars, moons, suns et cetera). He had intercourse with stars and moons and later with comets and suns. Never any onanism.
The patient paints pictures of suns; is of a very limited intelligence. For years, religious paranoia, with states of ecstasy. He has an 'inexplicable' love for the Sun, for whom he would sacrifice his life. Taken to hospital, he proves to be free from infirmity and signs of anatomical degeneration.
poem by Harry Crosby
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One Passionate Kiss
Who thought that one kiss
One innocent kiss
That meant nothing at first
Could change everything
Could lead to things we have not experience
Could let us enjoy so much that
We've wanted for so long
Could make us feel the same feelings at the same time
Being really loved
Being whole
Being a part of something that's worth our time
Could make your eyes sparkle
As if you wouldn't want to be or doing
Anything else in the world
Could give us a natural high
Could give my soul wings
Makes my body feel as if it was floating in the clouds
Could make my eyes twinkle just like you were too
Steal two stars and plant then in my eyes
Could mean nothing at first but then stole our breath away
And from that moment on I have been hooked on you
I can't get enough of you
I always want more and more never doing enough for you
Always feeling that I need to do more
Or you deserve more
And ask myself why such a great man like you
Would want anything to do with such a not so great woman
But as I look into your dreamy eyes
All my worries explode my body like a
Ticking time bomb that went off
Who would think that such a harmless kiss
Could make me want so much more then
Such an innocent kiss
Would make me want to do
I never thought such a kiss excised but
The first time you looked into my eyes
With your dreamy eyes telling me
I love you baby without even speaking
Then your tender inexperienced lips pressed gently against mine
Nervous about if you're doing something wrong
But really you were doing everything right
The butterflies were got in a hurricane
And trying to fly out of it flapping
There wings as hard and as fast as they could
In my stomach
But could it really have hurt anything
It was only
One passionate kiss
poem by Mrs. Cynosure
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The best things in life are nearest Breath in your nostrils, light in your eyes, flowers at your feet, duties at your hand, the path of right just before you. Then do not grasp at the stars, but do life's plain, common work as it comes, certain that daily duties and daily bread are the sweetest things in life.
quote by Robert Louis Stephenson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Special One
Two thousand years gone by and going strong
well never fear my love it won't be long
you say you've had enough, it seems so wrong
now it's suicide, oh my love
and now you know just why I'm here
and now my eyes they see so clear
no fear
where do we go from here, it's in your head
so many tears we'll cry before we're dead
remember me my love and what we said
I will stand by you all night long
and now you know just why I'm here
and now my eyes can see so clear
oh baby
just like the dreams you grow old and die
noone pretends to know just why
I feel the calm before the storm
I'm here
kiss me again before you go
there's something else that you should know
my life will be hell without you my belle
oh, give all my love, my love
song performed by by Cheap Trick
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Portrait
I
She gave up beauty in her tender youth,
Gave all her hope and joy and pleasant ways;
She covered up her eyes lest they should gaze
On vanity, and chose the bitter truth.
Harsh towards herself, towards others full of ruth,
Servant of servants, little known to praise,
Long prayers and fasts trenched on her nights and days:
She schooled herself to sights and sounds uncouth
That with the poor and stricken she might make
A home, until the least of all sufficed
Her wants; her own self learned she to forsake,
Counting all earthly gain but hurt and loss.
So with calm will she chose and bore the cross
And hated all for love of Jesus Christ.
II
They knelt in silent anguish by her bed,
And could not weep; but calmly there she lay.
All pain had left her; and the sun's last ray
Shone through upon her, warming into red
The shady curtains. In her heart she said:
'Heaven opens; I leave these and go away;
The Bridegroom calls,—shall the Bride seek to stay?'
Then low upon her breast she bowed her head.
O lily flower, O gem of priceless worth,
O dove with patient voice and patient eyes,
O fruitful vine amid a land of dearth,
O maid replete with loving purities,
Thou bowedst down thy head with friends on earth
To raise it with the saints in Paradise.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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The Lean, Brown Man
There's a big, brown man in the hinterland
Whom the nation had forgot;
He's a stolid man and a patient man
And he does not talk a lot:
And the seasons frown or the seasons smile
As he toils to sow, to reap;
And as he toils he thinks the while;
And his thoughts are long and deep.
There's a silent man in the hinterland
A land of earth-stained clowns
To the little street-bred people cooped
In the noisy seaboard towns
In the towns where many a catch-cry's raised
And devious scheme devised,
Where the talkers reign, and thoughts, like men,
Grow smug and standardised.
There's a quite man in the hinterland
Who scorns the shifts and tricks
Of the little men that talk and scheme
In the game of politics.
They have wooed him long with sly pretence
Thro' many a season past.
He was deemed a fool, and he suffered much;
But his patience ends at last.
There's a patient man in the hinterland
Who has scant time for words,
For the sounding phrase and the cries they raise
To sway the thoughtless herds.
Long has he toiled, this patient man
That the folk be fed and housed
But guile shall know no sterner foe
Than the patient man aroused.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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You Do Not See The Wind....
when you are exhausted
to even write a letter
do not be afraid about
losing yourself
into an abyss of
perhaps having outlived
your usefulness
this is a normal occurrence
when you have given up what
does not rightfully belong to you
because you only live on
a borrowed house and what you
have is only the body
of the sea hermit
because you bring nothing here
and so when you finally leave
you ought to bring nothing too
with you
but what place are you going?
do you really know?
what do you have here?
do you really know?
when you are tired now
because there are no answers
bear in mind, always bear in mind,
that that is the only possible truth
of our earthly existence
deep in our hearts
we know of a country
and inside it
is a paradise
it is certain but we do not know when
it is true but we do not know why
just be patient
just be patient
just be patient
here comes the wind
and you do not see it....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Recollections of a Dreamland
Rouse ye! torpid daylight-dreamers, cast your carking cares away!
As calm air to troubled water, so my night is to your day;
All the dreary day you labour, groping after common sense,
And your eyes ye will not open on the night's magnificence.
Ye would scow were I to tell you how a guiding radiance gleams
On the outer world of action from my inner world of dreams.
When, with mind released from study, late I lay note down to sleep,
From the midst of facts and figures, into boundless space I leap;
For the inner world grows wider as the outer disappears,
And the soul, retiring inward, finds itself beyond the spheres.
Then, to this unbroken sameness, some fantastic dream succeeds,
Vague emotions rise and ripen into thoughts and words and deeds.
Old impressions, long forgotten, range themselves in Time and Space,
Till I recollect the features of some once familiar place.
Then from valley into valley in my dreaming course I roam,
Till the wanderings of my fancy end, where they began, at home.
Calm it lies in morning twilight, while each streamlet far and wide
Still retains its hazy mantle, borrowed from the mountain's side;
Every knoll is now an island every wooded bank a shore,
To the lake of quiet vapour that has spread the valley o’er.
Sheep are couched on every hillock, waiting till the morning dawns,
Hares are on their early rambles, limping o’er the dewy lawns.
All within the house is silent, darkened all the chambers seem,
As with noiseless step I enter, gliding onwards in my dream.
What! has Time run out his cycle, do the years return again?
Are there treasure-caves in Dreamland where departed days remain?
I have leapt the bars of distance—left the life that late I led—
I remember years and labours as a tale that I have read;
Yet my heart is hot within me, for I feel the gentle power
Of the spirits that still love me, waiting for this sacred hour.
Yes,—I know the forms that meet me are but phantoms of the brain,
For they walk in mortal bodies, and they have not ceased from pain.
Oh! those signs of human weakness, left behind for ever now,
Dearer far to me than glories round a fancied seraph's brow.
Oh! the old familiar voices ! Oh! the patient waiting eyes!
Let me live with them in dreamland, while the world in slumber lies!
For by bonds of sacred honour will they guard my soul in sleep
From the spells of aimless fancies, that around my senses creep.
They will link the past and present into one continuous life,
While I feel their hope, their patience, nerve me for the daily strife.
For it is not all a fancy that our lives and theirs are one,
And we know that all we see is but an endless work begun.
Part is left in Nature's keeping, part is entered into rest,
Part remains to grow and ripen, hidden in some living breast.
What is ours we know not, either when we wake or when we sleep,
But we know that Love and Honour, day and night, are ours to keep.
What though Dreams be wandering fancies, by some lawless force entwined,
Empty bubbles, floating upwards through the current of the mind?
There are powers and thoughts within us, that we know not, till they rise
Through the stream of conscious action from where Self in secret lies.
But when Will and Sense are silent, by the thoughts that come and go,
We may trace the rocks and eddies in the hidden depths below.
Let me dream my dream till morning; let my mind run slow and clear,
Free from all the world's distraction, feeling that the Dead are near,
Let me wake, and see my duty lie before me straight and plain.
Let me rise refreshed, and ready to begin my work again.
poem by James Clerk Maxwell
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Ring Out The Bell
I'm so lonely,
God won't know me,
I can hardly get up.
I sold my halo,
Back in April,
Now, I can't hold my head up.
So, ring out the bell,
I'll fly where there's someone to tell,
My shoulders are colder since I Fell.
Someone save me,
Feel me breathing,
Someone get me home soon.
If I see sunrise,
And screw up my eyes,
I don't feel so lonesome.
So, ring out the bell,
I'll fly where there's someone to tell,
My Shoulders are colder since I fell.
I'm doing fine,
I'm getting by,
Tell me what I should do,
God knows why I'm watching the sky and it's so blue.
One fine morning,
Without a warning,
I'll go through the blue sky.
Until I do, I'll Wait for you,
So, I can get this right.
So, ring out the bell,
I'll fly where there's someone to tell,
My shoulders are colder since I fell.
So, ring out the bell,
I'll fly where there's someone to tell,
My shoulders are colder since I fell.
song performed by by Travis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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O Fish
The city is asleep.
Midnight. The enormous sky is full of stars.
Only a bright fish is coming out of the mirror.
My eyes see only him.
With silence unbroken my eyes say:
O fish, are you Harun ar-Rashid, in your nightgown
Are you wandering- from the palace to the thatched cottage,
Watching how the wheel of stars is whirling round and round?
O fish, where are you going?
The city is asleep.
Only a born-blind singer along with thieves, harlots, and police is awake,
And a strange silent fish. O moving fish.
My eyes see only him.
With silence unbroken my eyes say:
O fish, are you the very eyes of mine?
Midnight. The wheel of nature is whirling round and round on the waterfall.
O fish, where are you going?
Translation by S M Maniruzzaman
poem by Abdul Mannan Syed
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A Presentiment
It seems a little word to say -
FAREWELL--but may it not, when said,
Be like the kiss we give the dead,
Before they pass the doors for aye?
Who knows if, on some after day,
Your lips shall utter in its stead
A welcome, and the broken thread
Be joined again, the selfsame way?
The word is said, I turn to go,
But on the threshold seem to hear
A sound as of a passing bell,
Tolling monotonous and slow,
Which strikes despair upon my ear,
And says it is a last farewell.
poem by Robert Fuller Murray
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Be Patient, Trust Me, Do As I Say
You won’t believe the things for you I have in store
As time goes by, I’ll give you more and more
Be patient, trust me, do as I say
And I’ll continue guiding you day by day
You’ll never guess the plans I have for you
Continue always asking me what I want you to do
Be patient, trust me, do as I say
And I’ll continue guiding you day by day
You can’t even imagine the places you will go
When tomorrow comes, I’ll let you know
For today, be patient, trust me, do as I say
And I’ll continue guiding you day by day
I’ve finally understood your sole request today
That’s all I have to do, just listen and obey
Be patient, trust you, and do as you say…
poem by Manny Negron
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In Cosmic Time
Don't panic!
Be patient.
Aren't those the words you said to me?
Don't worry!
Things will change.
Maybe the wait wont take four hundred years.
In Cosmic time,
That's just a dropp in the bucket.
Don't panic!
Be patient.
Maybe your bucket will come brimming to the rim!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Some time
Last night, my darling, as you slept,
I thought I heard you sigh,
And to your little crib I crept,
And watched a space thereby;
And then I stooped and kissed your brow,
For oh! I love you so--
You are too young to know it now,
But some time you shall know!
Some time when, in a darkened place
Where others come to weep,
Your eyes shall look upon a face
Calm in eternal sleep,
The voiceless lips, the wrinkled brow,
The patient smile shall show--
You are too young to know it now,
But some time you may know!
Look backward, then, into the years,
And see me here to-night--
See, O my darling! how my tears
Are falling as I write;
And feel once more upon your brow
The kiss of long ago--
You are too young to know it now,
But some time you shall know.
poem by Eugene Field
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Impossible
If they had ever told me how sweet a kiss could be
I would have said impossible, impossible for me
And if they said Id find you beyond the rainbows end
I would have said impossible, impossible, my friend
To dream about what might have been
Is strange enough for me
But now it seems Im living in
A dream too beautiful to be
If they had said a moonbeam could calm a stormy sea
I would have said impossible but now at last I see
That nothing is impossible if you are here with me
I would have said impossible but now at last I see
That nothing is impossible if you are here with me
song performed by by Nat King Cole, music by Steve Allen, lyrics by Steve Allen (1956)
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wishing You Were Here
I'm writing letters and your candle is burning
Things could be better, can't handle this yearning.
Can't stop my head from spinning,
wishing you were here.
Look at your photo but it still can't hold me,
I just recall the things you never ever told me
Like you're the one and I am
wishing you were here.
Wish you were here
to see the moon in the sky
Oh here, to see the light in your eyes
Looking at the stars and
Wishing you were here.
The clock is ticking but the time moves slowly
The weeks go quickly so you just won't know me
I'm writing love songs and I'm wishing
Wish you were here,
to see the moon in the skies
Oh here, to see the light in your eyes
Looking at the stars and
Wishing you were here
To put a smile on my face
Oh here, to get caught in my
warm embrace
Looking at the stars and
wishing you were here
Bridge:
To calm the restless nights
To kiss my fears away.
Here, to make this wrong seem right
To start our lives today.
Wish you were here,
to see the moon in the skies
Oh here, to see the light in your eyes
Looking at the stars and
Wishing you were here
To put a smile on my face
Oh here, to get caught in my
warm embrace
Looking at the stars and
wishing you were here
song performed by by Debbie Gibson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Have A Nice Day
'Help, help, ' said a man. 'I'm drowning.'
'Hang on, ' said a man from the shore.
'Help, help, ' said the man. 'I'm not clowning.'
'Yes, I know, I heard you before.
Be patient dear man who is drowning,
You, see I've got a disease.
I'm waiting for a Doctor J. Browning.
So do be patient please.'
'How long, ' said the man who was drowning. 'Will it take for the Doc to arrive? '
'Not very long, ' said the man with the disease. 'Till then try staying alive.'
'Very well, ' said the man who was drowning. 'I'll try and stay afloat.
By reciting the poems of Browning
And other things he wrote.'
'Help, help, ' said the man with the disease, 'I suddenly feel quite ill.'
'Keep calm.' said the man who was drowning, ' Breathe deeply and lie quite still.'
'Oh dear, ' said the man with the awful disease. 'I think I'm going to die.'
'Farewell, ' said the man who was drowning.
Said the man with the disease, 'goodbye.'
So the man who was drowning, drownded
And the man with the disease past away.
But apart from that,
And a fire in my flat,
It's been a very nice day.
poem by Spike Milligan
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Stars have eyes! !
Stars have eyes
Did anyone ever see the eyes on stars?
The eyes on stars full of soul
Look any longer they take control
Did anyone ever see the eyes on stars?
The eyes on stars behold the sight
Look any longer and glide free like a kite
Did anyone see the eyes on stars?
The eyes on stars oh what a smile
Look any longer they’ll lite your darkness for a mile
Did anyone see the eyes on stars?
The eyes on stars share the love
Look any longer you know it comes from above
Well now you’ve seen the eyes on stars
Shared the beautiful soul amazed by their wonder
Enchanted by the smile
And overwhelmed by the love
But look any longer you will see the pain
The pain on the eyes of stars
Never to be concealed by the rain
The eyes on stars cry
Never to be wiped dry
The eyes on stars cry
The eyes on stars cry blood tears
Permanently there reminding of fears
The eyes on stars cry
The eyes on stars cry
Stars eyes cry
Stars eyes cry
Stars eyes cry
They cry blood
Stars eyes cry
Stars eyes smile
Stars have eyes
Stars eyes.
Lerato Ladyfair Shuping
poem by Lerato Shuping
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Soul-kiss
I want to kiss your stubbled chin
I want to kiss your neck
I want to kiss the jagged scar on your chest
I want to kiss your head
I want to kiss your hair
The little of what's remaining there
I want to kiss your cheek
Your ear, your brow
I want to kiss you all over right now
I want to kiss your eyes
I want to kiss your lips
I want to kiss you everywhere you exist
I want to kiss your soul
If I can go that far
You can show me just how
Near the stars
And how much closer
Heaven
poem by Sonya Florentino
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