Under a sky of uncreated mud
Under a sky of uncreated mud
or sunk beneath the accursed streets, my life
is added up of cupboard-musty weeks
and ring'd about with walls of ugliness:
some narrow world of ever-streaming air.
My days of azure have forgotten me.
Nought stirs, in garret-chambers of my brain,
except the squirming brood of miseries
older than memory, while, far out of sight
behind the dun blind of the rain, my dreams
of sun on leaves and waters drip thro' years
nor stir the slumbers of some sullen well,
beneath whose corpse-fed weeds I too shall sink.
poem by Christopher John Brennan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Stranded (Lyrics)
Your waves come crashing down
Like a semi-auto trailer
I dive so deep in the sea
To avoid killer whales
A perfect moment here and gone
It has sailed
I'll use a hammerhead to drive
Rusty nail inside
I'm feeling the sea beneath me, beneath you
I'm feeling the sea beneath you, beneath me
Imagine if our world was blue and weightless
I never meant to do wrong to you
You're my starfish
You moan a tone so low beyond me
A telepathic sub-sonic frequency
I need a little air for emergency
You have to understand this urgency
I'm feeling the sea beneath me, beneath you
White sand beneath my feet
No brain between my ears
I'm feeling the sea beneath you, beneath me
I know that if I had one
I'd spare us both these years
I'm feeling the sea beneath me, beneath you
White sand beneath my feet
No brain between my ears
I'm feeling the sea beneath you, beneath me
I know that if I had one
I'd spare us both these years
A sea anemone, you're my enemy
poem by Satan's Sibling
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
10.15 Saturday Night
10.15
Saturday night
And the tap drips
Under the strip light
And i'm sitting
In the kitchen sink
And the tap drips
Drip drip drip drip drip drip drip drip
Waiting
For the telephone to ring
And i'm wondering
Where she's been
And i'm crying
For yesterday
And the tap drips
Drip drip drip drip drip drip drip drip
It's always the same
song performed by by Cure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Tear by Tear (for Onelia)
At night
I visit
the village
in which I was
born.
I float
above rooftops
dive into the house
next door
to my own
little home
swim down streets
with all the swagger
of a fish
amongst coral reefs.
It lies to the northwest
but is submerged
beneath the waters
behind a dam.
Each night
I visit it
leaving my body
behind
drifting in dreams
diving beneath the waters
of the Past
(swimming where) I used to walk
trying to remake it
memory by memory
tear by tear.
poem by Dónall Dempsey
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Raindrops
The drip, drip, drip of the rain
against my window pane
quiets the stormy rages
that invade my brain.
The methodical tapping of wetness
slowly flushes away
all accumulated sadness
on a dark and dreary day.
Welcomed by creatures of the outside world
unaware of the constant drip,
they find the watery pools that collect
and drink or take a dip.
The clouds have opened. They're not aware
of the rain's effect on me.
'Tis not important to them at all.
That's something that I see.
But I, seeing the dripping rain
against my window pane
must give up sadness while it falls,
for it will not remain.
The sun will burst forth once again
and lighten the sky and my heart.
And the drip, drip, drip of the rain
will be a memory that will depart.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Rain Comes Sobbing to the Door
The night grows dark, and weird, and cold; and thick drops patter on the pane;
There comes a wailing from the sea; the wind is weary of the rain.
The red coals click beneath the flame, and see, with slow and silent feet
The hooded shadows cross the woods to where the twilight waters beat!
Now, fan-wise from the ruddy fire, a brilliance sweeps athwart the floor;
As, streaming down the lattices, the rain comes sobbing to the door:
As, streaming down the lattices,
The rain comes sobbing to the door.
Dull echoes round the casement fall, and through the empty chambers go,
Like forms unseen whom we can hear on tip-toe stealing to and fro.
But fill your glasses to the brims, and, through a mist of smiles and tears,
Our eyes shall tell how much we love to toast the shades of other years!
And hither they will flock again, the ghosts of things that are no more,
While, streaming down the lattices, the rain comes sobbing to the door:
While, streaming down the lattices,
The rain comes sobbing to the door.
The tempest-trodden wastelands moan - the trees are threshing at the blast;
And now they come, the pallid shapes of Dreams that perished in the past;
And, when we lift the windows up, a smothered whisper round us strays,
Like some lone wandering voice from graves
that hold the wrecks of bygone days.
I tell ye that I ~love~ the storm, for think we not of ~thoughts~ of yore,
When, streaming down the lattices, the rain comes sobbing to the door?
When, streaming down the lattices,
The rain comes sobbing to the door?
We'll drink to those we sadly miss, and sing some mournful song we know,
Since they may chance to hear it all, and muse on friends they've left below.
Who knows - if souls in bliss can leave the borders of their Eden-home -
But that some loving one may now about the ancient threshold roam?
Oh, like an exile, he would hail a glimpse of the familiar floor,
Though, streaming down the lattices, the rain comes sobbing to the door!
Though, streaming down the lattices,
The rain comes sobbing to the door!
poem by Henry Kendall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Water On The Brain
(hicks / clarke / nash)
Ive just come in from out of the rain
Its wet outside the water runs down a drain
I go to bed cause my heads full of pain
And drip drip its driving me wild
Drip drip its driving me wild
Outside the window theres a pipe wearing thin
It lets the water do a dance on a tin
I try to sleep but its making a din
And drip drip its driving me wild
Drip drip its driving me wild
Water on the brain water on the brain
Water on the brain water on the brain
Drip drip its driving me wild
Drip drip its driving me wild
I toss and turn and my patience is weak
Go to the bathroom door and I take a peak yeah
The bath tap has started a leak
And drip drip its driving me wild
Drip drip its driving me wild
Drip drip its driving me wild
Drip drip its driving me wild
song performed by by Hollies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
A Beauty Hint
Sweet, think how much the better it would be
If you thro' life should thus preserve your beauty.
It really doesn't matter much to me;
But don't you think you owe the world a duty,
And don't you think that thro' some kindly thought -
Of me, for instance - beauty were well bought?
Those wrinkles on your face, dear,
Those bags beneath your eyes
Are but the evil trace, dear,
Of temper, spite and lies.
Why can't you be a saint, dear,
Like dear old Joan of Arc;
Be pleasant - which you ain't, dear,
And do not be a nark.
Consider, sweetheart, if you smiled always
How much, thro' weeks, your face might be improving;
In place of which, in these unhappy days,
You go to beauty shops for the removing
Of wrinkles, blemishes and ugly warts.
Why, when a smile will serve, seek these resorts?
Why can't you raise a grin, sweet,
And be a little beauty?
For ugliness is sin, sweet,
And loveliness a duty.
So, for my sake, why can't you make
An effort to he glad.
Just think of me and joyful be;
For I am not too bad.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Nature's Night
A scented forest in the dark
Beneath the glowing moon
Dampened now by crystal drops
Because the morning's coming soon
The susurrous of sleeping leaves
Like gentle snoring in the night
Where dreams of sweet fertility
Dance beneath the soft moonlight
I wander free upon the breeze
Entranced by everything I see
By sights and sounds and musty scents
And feel the forest deep in me
Caught inside the sultry dreams
I howl with wolves in joyful song
For here beneath the slumbering stars
Lies the place where I belong
poem by John W Flournoy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Days Go By
Days go by
Years go by
We wonder where we are-
We are where we were years ago
Only older and less capable of believing our dreams will come true-
We are where we were
And yet somehow
If we look on the other side
We are not-
There are dreams that have come true-
There are children that have grown
And new lives that have begun-
Dreams have come true
And we are not only just older-
But days have gone by
And years have gone by
And we are where we are
In wonder in doubt in worry in hope
Of what this day will bring
Though it be only one of many
Already lived and yet to be forgotten.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Harper
Like a drift of faded blossoms
Caught in a slanting rain,
His fingers glimpsed down the strings of his harp
In a tremulous refrain:
Patter and tinkle, and drip and drip!
Ah! but the chords were rainy sweet!
And I closed my eyes and I bit my lip,
As he played there in the street.
Patter, and drip, and tinkle!
And there was the little bed
In the corner of the garret,
And the rafters overhead!
And there was the little window --
Tinkle, and drip, and drip!--
The rain above, and a mother's love,
And God's companionship!
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Eagle
He clasps the crag with crooked hands;
Close to the sun in lonely lands,
Ring'd with the azure world, he stands.
The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls;
He watches from his mountain walls,
And like a thunderbolt he falls.
poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Youve Forgotten
Youve been passed around from hand to hand
Cast upon the darkest sands
Now youre so confused that you can hardly stand
Forgotten, youve forgotten now youre on the run
Forgotten, youve forgotten
How to live beneath the sun
How to live beneath the sun
Before you left I thought I knew
That you would always need me too
I never thought someday, that Id be telling you
Youve forgotten, youve forgotten
The things you used to feel
Forgotten, youve forgotten
How to smile for real
How to smile for real
And for the changes you have made
Your beauty was the price you paid
All your dreams rose up and then you watched them fade.
Youve forgotten, youve forgotten
Youve forgotten, youve forgotten
The best is always yet to come
The best is always yet to come
The best is always yet to come
And how to live beneath the sun
song performed by by Jackson Browne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
There's Milk Beneath This Poem
there's milk beneath this poem, and blood
aswirl, like a marble cake of moments half-baked;
there's blood beneath this poem, and tears
unmixed like oil in a rain barrel of thoughts;
there's tears beneath this poem, and come
awash with a million squirming attempts to awaken;
there's come beneath this poem, and the sea
unforgiving, with its undertow of fears, unknown and unsought.
there's milk beneath this poem, and silent screams
unheard for years and moments, draping the hallways;
there's silent screams beneath this poem, and mad laughter
adrift in the corrridors of the family myth, undone;
there's mad laughter beneath this poem, and choking sobs
unmoving in my throat, like a chicken bone, unloved, always;
there's choking sobs beneath this poem, and gnashing teeth
awash with the bitter taste of sweet defeat, like bile, or yesterday's onions.
there's milk beneath this poem, and time
like the blank white page before me;
there's time beneath this poem, and space
where the emptiness is reborn as room to move;
there's space beneath this poem, and thought
rumbling like the very voice of god himself, imploring that
there's thought beneath this poem, and all
is like nothing else, so much as the need to love;
there's milk beneath this poem, and all
the death on earth can't change that.
© Copyright 2010 christo (UN: christo13 at Writing.Com) . All rights reserved.
poem by Christo Andrus
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Echo to Him Who Complains
O FLY thee from the shades of night,
Where the loud tempests yelling rise;
Where horrror wings her sullen flight
Beneath the bleak and lurid skies.
As the pale light'ning swiftly gleams
O'er the scorch'd wood, thy well-known form
More radiant than an angel seems,
Contending with the ruthless storm.
I see the scowling witch, DESPAIR
Drink the big tear that scalds thy cheek;
While thro' the dark and turbid air,
The screams of haggard ENVY break.
From the cold mountain's flinty steep,
I hear the dashing waters roar;
Ah! turn thee, turn thee, cease to weep,
Thou hast no reason to deplore.
See fell DESPAIR expiring fall,
See ENVY from thy glances start;
No more shall howling blasts appall,
Or with'ring grief corrode thy heart.
See FRIENDSHIP from her azure eye
Drops the fond balm for ev'ry pain
She comes, the offspring of the sky,
"TO RAZE THE TROUBLES OF THE brain."
poem by Mary Darby Robinson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Beneath Still Waters
(dallas frazer)
Beneath still waters
Theres a strong undertow
The surface wont tell you
What the deep water knows
Darling, Im saying
I know somethings wrong
Beneath still waters
Your love is gone
Even a fool could see
That youll soon be leaving me
But each and every heart
Must take its turn at misery
And this time its me
And Ill cry alone
Beneath still waters
Your love is gone
Even a fool could see
That youll soon be leaving me
But each and every heart
Must take its turn at misery
And this time its me
And Ill cry alone
Beneath still waters
Your love is gone
Beneath still waters
Your love is gone
Beneath still waters
Your love is gone
song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Sonnet. Written Upon The Top Of Ben Nevis
Read me a lesson, Muse, and speak it loud
Upon the top of Nevis, blind in mist!
I look into the chasms, and a shroud
Vapourous doth hide them, -- just so much I wist
Mankind do know of hell; I look o'erhead,
And there is sullen mist, -- even so much
Mankind can tell of heaven; mist is spread
Before the earth, beneath me, -- even such,
Even so vague is man's sight of himself!
Here are the craggy stones beneath my feet,--
Thus much I know that, a poor witless elf,
I tread on them, -- that all my eye doth meet
Is mist and crag, not only on this height,
But in the world of thought and mental might!
poem by John Keats
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Dan Y Duor
Dan y dwr, tawelwch sydd.
Dan y dwr, galwaf i.
Nid yw'r swn gyda fi.
Dan y dwr, tawelwch am byth.
Dan y dwr, galwaf i.
Nid yw'r swn ddim fwy gyda fi.
(Translation
Beneath the waters, there is silence.
Beneath the waters, I call you.
There is no company with me.
Beneath the waters, silent forever.
Beneath the waters, I call you.
The sound is no longer with me. )
song performed by by Enya
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The House Of Dust: Part 02: 09: Interlude
The days, the nights, flow one by one above us,
The hours go silently over our lifted faces,
We are like dreamers who walk beneath a sea.
Beneath high walls we flow in the sun together.
We sleep, we wake, we laugh, we pursue, we flee.
We sit at tables and sip our morning coffee,
We read the papers for tales of lust or crime.
The door swings shut behind the latest comer.
We set our watches, regard the time.
What have we done? I close my eyes, remember
The great machine whose sinister brain before me
Smote and smote with a rhythmic beat.
My hands have torn down walls, the stone and plaster.
I dropped great beams to the dusty street.
My eyes are worn with measuring cloths of purple,
And golden cloths, and wavering cloths, and pale.
I dream of a crowd of faces, white with menace.
Hands reach up to tear me. My brain will fail.
Here, where the walls go down beneath our picks,
These walls whose windows gap against the sky,
Atom by atom of flesh and brain and marble
Will build a glittering tower before we die . . .
The young boy whistles, hurrying down the street,
The young girl hums beneath her breath.
One goes out to beauty, and does not know it.
And one goes out to death.
poem by Conrad Potter Aiken
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Uncreated Light
There is a Light, an Uncreated Beam
in which the Glory of God can be seen.
A pure and holy and an Eternal light
It is seen in Jesus Christ shining bright.
A light brighter than the noonday sun
shines from the Lord, the Righteous One.
The King of kings and Lord of all
and beneath His feet all men shall fall.
A great and wondrous light that shines so bright.
banishing all the darkness from its' sight.
This uncreated Beam on earth did shine
and our lives are enriched by the Divine.
With glorious beauty His life unfurled
blazing out holiness in this dark world.
The Shekinah glory comes shining through
as the Light of Life reaches out to you.
Every Soldier Has A Dream
After a war a soldier sometimes has to cry as dreams of those memories waters in the eye.
It's very sad when this world of ours goes to war.
Peace is the thing that soldiers have fought and died for.
With hands held in the air a soldier cries a bit but people are blind to dreams that do not fit.
Some people abuse this world but one day they'll find that they've lost their battlefields and they are unklind.
Lost battlefields and dreams with no victories won, following the forgotten hero.
Here they come.
They bury the dream because they cannot recall what it was that made the Soldier stand proud and tall.
Soldiers come from all walks of life.
Sisters.
Brothers.
Soldiers with many dreams seldom shared with others.
Soldiers who had loved ones and families back home.
Some soldiers are just children
and still on their own.
Honoured I feel to remember soldiers this way.
I salute them have I your attention I say.
Stand at ease,
fall out.
Sir nobody knew his name.
Dear God you know who he was our dream was the same.
Undaunted was the soldier in the face of fear.
No turning back.
Each soldier shed a silent tear.
But I wonder why no one hears the soldiers cry.
Listen today as soldiers go to fight and die .
Try to imagine the soldiers forgotten dream.
Keep the memory of what the Soldier
had been.
It haunts us today and remains here in our time.
Ghosts with forgotten dreams remain.
Its such a crime.
What the soldier fought for is what we must redeem,
as we look back and try to recapture the dream.
The ship's sunk and they say,
we're glad we missed the cruise.
Don't take for granted things in life we shouldn't loose.
When the battle is over and the dreams don't sit.
Every soldier must cry just a little bit.
By Paul McCann
poem by Paul McCann
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!