Dawn On The Night-Journey
TILL dawn the wind drove round me. It is past
And still, and leaves the air to lisp of bird,
And to the quiet that is almost heard
Of the new-risen day, as yet bound fast
In the first warmth of sunrise. When the last
Of the sun's hours to-day shall be fulfilled,
There shall another breath of time be stilled
For me, which now is to my senses cast
As much beyond me as eternity,
Unknown, kept secret. On the newborn air
The moth quivers in silence. It is vast,
Yea, even beyond the hills upon the sea,
The day whose end shall give this hour as sheer
As chaos to the irrevocable Past.
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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Over The Hills And Far Away
A LITTLE bird flew my window by,
'Twixt the level street and the level sky,
The level rows of houses tall,
The long low sun on the level wall;
And all that the little bird did say
Was, 'Over the hills and far away.'
A little bird sang behind my chair,
From the level line of corn-fields fair,
The smooth green hedgerow's level bound
Not a furlong off--the horizon's bound,
And the level lawn where the sun all day
Burns:--'Over the hills and far away.'
A little bird sings above my bed,
And I know if I could but lift my head
I would see the sun set, round and grand,
Upon level sea and level sand,
While beyond the misty distance gray
Is 'Over the hills and far away.'
I think that a little bird will sing
Over a grassy mound, next spring,
Where something that once was me, ye'll leave
In the level sunshine, morn and eve:
But I shall be gone, past night, past day,
Over the hills and far away.
poem by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
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Music: An Ode
WAS it light that spake from the darkness,
or music that shone from the word,
When the night was enkindled with sound
of the sun or the first-born bird?
Souls enthralled and entrammelled in bondage
of seasons that fall and rise,
Bound fast round with the fetters of flesh,
and blinded with light that dies,
Lived not surely till music spake,
and the spirit of life was heard.
Music, sister of sunrise, and herald of life to be,
Smiled as dawn on the spirit of man,
and the thrall was free.
Slave of nature and serf of time,
the bondman of life and death,
Dumb with passionless patience that breathed
but forlorn and reluctant breath,
Heard, beheld, and his soul made answer,
and communed aloud with the sea.
Morning spake, and he heard:
and the passionate silent noon
Kept for him not silence:
and soft from the mounting moon
Fell the sound of her splendour,
heard as dawn's in the breathless night,
Not of men but of birds whose note
bade man's soul quicken and leap to light:
And the song of it spake, and the light and the darkness
of earth were as chords in tune.
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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In The Garden VIII: Later Autumn
THIS is the year's despair: some wind last night
Utter'd too soon the irrevocable word,
And the leaves heard it, and the low clouds heard;
So a wan morning dawn'd of sterile light;
Flowers droop'd, or show'd a startled face and white;
The cattle cower'd, and one disconsolate bird
Chirp'd a weak note; last came this mist and blurr'd
The hills, and fed upon the fields like blight.
Ah, why so swift despair! There yet will be
Warm noons, the honey'd leavings of the year,
Hours of rich musing, ripest autumn's core,
And late-heap'd fruit, and falling hedge-berry,
Blossoms in cottage-crofts, and yet, once more,
A song, not less than June's, fervent and clear.
poem by Edward Dowden
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The Edge
I thought to die that night in the solitude where they would never find me…
But there was time…
And I lay quietly on the drawn knees of the mountain,
staring into the abyss…
I do not know how long…
I could not count the hours, they ran so fast
Like little bare-foot urchins - shaking my hands away…
But I remember
Somewhere water trickled like a thin severed vein…
And a wind came out of the grass,
Touching me gently, tentatively, like a paw.
As the night grew
The gray cloud that had covered the sky like sackcloth
Fell in ashen folds about the hills,
Like hooded virgins, pulling their cloaks about them…
There must have been a spent moon,
For the Tall One's veil held a shimmer of silver…
That too I remember…
And the tenderly rocking mountain
Silence
And beating stars…
Dawn
Lay like a waxen hand upon the world,
And folded hills
Broke into a sudden wonder of peaks, stemming clear and cold,
Till the Tall One bloomed like a lily,
Flecked with sun,
Fine as a golden pollen -
It seemed a wind might blow it from the snow.
I smelled the raw sweet essences of things,
And heard spiders in the leaves
And ticking of little feet,
As tiny creatures came out of their doors
To see God pouring light into his star…
… It seemed life held
No future and no past but this…
And I too got up stiffly from the earth,
And held my heart up like a cup…
poem by Lola Ridge
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Sunrise Sunset
Sunrise sunset in the mood of the way
In the colors of flame and darkish hour
Every shine time of night and the day
Like golden horizon of a new flower
Together to fill up the dream flight time
Of call from alone in the distant past
Where flow of the glimmering is in prime
When moon and the stars show off in their cast
With love so tender in splendor and spark
Of night in the twilight after sunset
Its glistening glowing to deepness dark
With colors of heaven in glow alphabet
Till sunrise in the morning comes new
To dawn of the rising on to a day true
poem by Peter S. Quinn
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Time Long Past
Like the ghost of a dear friend dead
Is Time long past.
A tone which is now forever fled,
A hope which is now forever past,
A love so sweet it could not last,
Was Time long past.
There were sweet dreams in the night
Of Time long past:
And, was it sadness or delight,
Each day a shadow onward cast
Which made us wish it yet might last--
That Time long past.
There is regret, almost remorse,
For Time long past.
'Tis like a child's belovèd corse
A father watches, till at last
Beauty is like remembrance, cast
From Time long past.
poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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The Book of Urizen (excerpts)
Lo, a shadow of horror is risen
In Eternity! Unknown, unprolific,
Self-clos'd, all-repelling: what demon
Hath form'd this abominable void,
This soul-shudd'ring vacuum? Some said
'It is Urizen.' But unknown, abstracted,
Brooding, secret, the dark power hid.
Times on times he divided and measur'd
Space by space in his ninefold darkness,
Unseen, unknown; changes appear'd
Like desolate mountains, rifted furious
By the black winds of perturbation.
For he strove in battles dire,
In unseen conflictions with shapes
Bred from his forsaken wilderness
Of beast, bird, fish, serpent and element,
Combustion, blast, vapour and cloud.
Dark, revolving in silent activity:
Unseen in tormenting passions:
An activity unknown and horrible,
A self-contemplating shadow,
In enormous labours occupied.
But Eternals beheld his vast forests;
Age on ages he lay, clos'd, unknown,
Brooding shut in the deep; all avoid
The petrific, abominable chaos.
His cold horrors silent, dark Urizen
Prepar'd; his ten thousands of thunders,
Rang'd in gloom'd array, stretch out across
The dread world; and the rolling of wheels,
As of swelling seas, sound in his clouds,
In his hills of stor'd snows, in his mountains
Of hail and ice; voices of terror
Are heard, like thunders of autumn
When the cloud blazes over the harvests
poem by William Blake
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The Book of Urizen: Chapter I
1. Lo, a shadow of horror is risen
In Eternity! Unknown, unprolific!
Self-closd, all-repelling: what Demon
Hath form'd this abominable void
This soul-shudd'ring vacuum?--Some said
"It is Urizen", But unknown, abstracted
Brooding secret, the dark power hid.
2. Times on times he divided, & measur'd
Space by space in his ninefold darkness
Unseen, unknown! changes appeard
In his desolate mountains rifted furious
By the black winds of perturbation
3. For he strove in battles dire
In unseen conflictions with shapes
Bred from his forsaken wilderness,
Of beast, bird, fish, serpent & element
Combustion, blast, vapour and cloud.
4. Dark revolving in silent activity:
Unseen in tormenting passions;
An activity unknown and horrible;
A self-contemplating shadow,
In enormous labours occupied
5. But Eternals beheld his vast forests
Age on ages he lay, clos'd, unknown
Brooding shut in the deep; all avoid
The petrific abominable chaos
6. His cold horrors silent, dark Urizen
Prepar'd: his ten thousands of thunders
Rang'd in gloom'd array stretch out across
The dread world, & the rolling of wheels
As of swelling seas, sound in his clouds
In his hills of stor'd snows, in his mountains
Of hail & ice; voices of terror,
Are heard, like thunders of autumn,
When the cloud blazes over the harvests
poem by William Blake
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Love Come To Me
Love, come to me in rose of red,
to lie upon my loveless bed ~
now filled with thorns of passions past,
into the wind, the thorns I cast.
Love, come to me in lilac hue,
with scented breath of lilac blue
and essence of love's lost repast ~
into the wind, lost love I cast.
Love, come to me in leaves of green,
with greening leaves of emerald sheen ~
awaiting in the brambling bough,
into the wind, I cast love now.
Love, come to me in yellowed fields,
lined with the golden daffodils ~
awaiting love to come along,
into the wind, I cast love's song.
Love, come to me in rose of red,
to rest and dream upon my bed ~
with scented breath of lilac blue
and daffodils of golden hue.
Love, come to me in nature's light.
It pleasures me with every sight ~
of red, and blue, and golden hue,
into the wind, I cast love true.
poem by Hazelmarie Elliott
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At Dawn
At dawn…
The time when I feel all alone
When everybody is asleep
And are still catching some zzzz’s
At dawn…
The hour when the place is quiet
When I’m almost dumb and deaf
And silence is all I can hear
At dawn…
The break when my mind’s unloaded
When my body is free from pains
And my heart is filled with wonder
At dawn…
Each day with a date with God
I spend this quiet time in grace
Thanking Him for the night that passed
At dawn…
I pray to our Almighty Lord above
Praising Him for who He is-
An awesome and wonderful God
At dawn…
I plead for His help so I could do
All the tasks that I have to make
At dawn, and for the rest of the day
poem by Rose de Ramar
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What Do You Say
What do you say
(michael dulaney, neil thrasher)
Stuck at a red light outside an adult bookstore
His son said, daddy, what are all those xs for
As the light turned green he changed the subject fast
He started talkin bout football as they drove right past
Chorus:
What do you say in a moment like this
When you cant find the words oh to tell it like it is
Just bite your tongue and let your heart lead the way
Lets get out of here oh what do you say
Seventeen years old she was out with her friends
They started drinken at some party til she was three sheets to the
Wind
Her momma always told her she can call no matter what
She was cryin on the front steps when her mom showed up
Repeat chorus
Sometimes you got to listen to the silence
And give yourself a little time to think
Her every breath is weaker than the last
And lately when she sleeps she talks about the past
Her husband knows shes tired of holding on
She looks at him and says I want to go home
What do you say in a moment like this
When you cant find the words to tell it like it is
Just close your eyes and let your heart lead the way
Oh what do you say
song performed by by Reba Mcentire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Last Ode
Nov. 27, 8 B.C. Horace, BK. V. Ode 31
As watchers couched beneath a Bantine oak,
Hearing the dawn-wind stir,
Know that the present strength of night is broke
Though no dawn threaten her
Till dawn's appointed hour--so Virgil died,
Aware of change at hand, and prophesied
Change upon all the Eternal Gods had made
And on the Gods alike--
Fated as dawn but, as the dawn, delayed
Till the just hour should strike--
A Star new-risen above the living and dead;
And the lost shades that were our loves restored
As lovers, and for ever. So he said;
Having received the word...
Maecenas waits me on the Esquiline:
Thither to-night go I....
And shall this dawn restore us, Virgil mine
To dawn? Beneath what sky?
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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~time~
As the hours drag on
the doctors rush to save her life
as the hours drag on
the day ends with no hope left
as the hours drag on
a nurse in forms a young girls family full of distress
as the minutes pass by
a young girl slowly dies
as the minutes pass by
a dieing girl whispers her last good byes
as the seconds tick past
she breaths her last breath
as seconds tick past
a family is struck with the truth that life does not last forever
months past in a blur
years will only dull the pain for the family
eternity till they will meet again
poem by Kairy sauerwein
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Dawns Decay
each babe wakes to earths new dawn,
mistaking new for what is worn,
futures cast before they're born.
childhood cheer renews life's sheen,
repainting vistas last past seen,
brightens futures grey cast screen.
childhood cheer gives way to teen,
early brightness now unseen,
noon sun slides to evenings scene.
adults wallow in the past,
spying dusk - horizon sat,
futures span is failing fast.
the current moment caught at last,
the future spent, the past fades fast,
no escape from deaths grim grasp.
poem by Christopher Withers
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Thoughts Volume Spun Quantum
heavy duty speed rapid writes
hour upon hour speed writes
poem immediately upon poem
until after 3 am wrote prism
light spectrums split awesome
thoughts volume spun quantum
till energy eclipsed sun passed
optics engulfed mind opens vast
sleep begs visions cannot last
till morning sleep dawn well past
morning wake heavily encrusted
in mind that ran flood fast tired
Dedicated to the painter poet Hosney Soliman.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Breath by Breath
Our moments are precious and
Our time is now.
Use it wisely and use it well!
There is no connecting the past
And future. The presence is the
in-between and only lasts but
Less than a breath.
The presence is so fast,
a blink of an eye and it is the past!
Then are we really living our future with
each inhale and our past goes out
with each exhale?
Are is it really just a pretence of presence?
Future - Past,
Future - Past,
Future - Past!
poem by JDarrell Kirkley
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Scenes In London I - Piccadilly
THE sun is on the crowded street,
It kindles those old towers;
Where England's noblest memories meet,
Of old historic hours.
Vast, shadowy, dark, and indistinct,
Tradition's giant fane,
Whereto a thousand years are linked,
In one electric chain.
So stands it when the morning light
First steals upon the skies;
And shadow'd by the fallen night,
The sleeping city lies.
It stands with darkness round it cast,
Touched by the first cold shine;
Vast, vague, and mighty as the past,
Of which it is the shrine.
'Tis lovely when the moonlight falls
Around the sculptured stone
Giving a softness to the walls,
Like love that mourns the gone.
Then comes the gentlest influence
The human heart can know,
The mourning over those gone hence
To the still dust below.
The smoke, the noise, the dust of day,
Have vanished from the scene;
The pale lamps gleam with spirit ray
O'er the park's sweeping green.
Sad shining on her lonely path,
The moon's calm smile above,
Seems as it lulled life's toil and wrath
With universal love.
Past that still hour, and its pale moon,
The city is alive;
It is the busy hour of noon,
When man must seek and strive.
The pressure of our actual life
Is on the waking brow;
Labour and care, endurance, strife,
These are around him now.
How wonderful the common street,
Its tumult and its throng,
The hurrying of the thousand feet
That bear life's cares along.
How strongly is the present felt,
With such a scene beside;
All sounds in one vast murmur melt
The thunder of the tide.
All hurry on—none pause to look
Upon another's face:
The present is an open book
None read, yet all must trace.
The poor man hurries on his race,
His daily bread to find;
The rich man has yet wearier chase,
For pleasure's hard to bind.
All hurry, though it is to pass
For which they live so fast—
What doth the present but amass,
The wealth that makes the past.
The past is round us—those old spires
That glimmer o'er our head;
Not from the present is their fires,
Their light is from the dead.
But for the past, the present's powers
Were waste of toil and mind;
But for those long and glorious hours
Which leave themselves behind.
poem by Letitia Elizabeth Landon
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A ticking away
Tick, tick, tick
Relentless pick
Not sounding nice
But signal for wise
I rush for schedule
Body has no more fuel
I think time is running out
The life is all about
I fall on the ground
No one has time to look around
I cry for help from some strangers
It is really a fear with danger
Well, I can’t leave worldly affairs
I know it is not fair
I would not like to admit sheer lies
Though it is far from real cries
I have no time to continue
I can look back and view
What I did for others in past?
The time has moved very fast
Time and tide waits for none
Both have to be utilized by some one
If one misses it then definitely some trouble
Uncertain life may be over like water bubble
I still want to give a fair trial
There is no use to offer denial
We lacked in past and missed present
We almost remained lukewarm and absent
How can that be recovered again?
The guns can never be trained
It has to be desperate try for recovery
No plus minus in it with any summary
It is said move with the times and go ahead
It is dictum and golden saying in trade
If we are confined and very much afraid
We will be lost on the way and get laid
No one waits for anybody
It is frantic try and push by everybody
Neither there is use of giving the way
Nor it is advisable to stay away
You got to be aligned with people
Whether you are down with health or unable
You have to work it out till the last breath
The journey has to end only with death
Many people get weary with current trend
They are afraid of loosing the life end
That is certain and bound to come
You should not get desperate but welcome
Who can save us from the clutches of death?
We will limit ourselves to only laying of wreath
We believe in philosophy of work and faith
So to work in time and till the last breath
I looked again at the fast moving arm
I was down with fatigue with no charm
It was futile bid to remain in race
I was loosing the race in any case
We all run after oasis water
It may end in night mare and not cater
What we dreamed of future may prove hollow
That is why certain norms we have to follow
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Be Like The Birds
When we are born we eminate
our past lives through our pores.
We come into this life not knowing a thing
Past life karma needs to be cleansed.
One way to do that is to stop for a day
just feel, don't think-be a bird on it's way.
Birds don't need to know where they are flying
they just get their internally without even trying.
So be like a bird and let things flow
you are guided like the birds so just let it go.
Written by Christina Sunrise on September 19,2012
www.suzae.com www.christinasunrise.com
poem by Christina Sunrise
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In Beechwood Cemetery
Here the dead sleep--the quiet dead. No sound
Disturbs them ever, and no storm dismays.
Winter mid snow caresses the tired ground,
And the wind roars about the woodland ways.
Springtime and summer and red autumn pass,
With leaf and bloom and pipe of wind and bird,
And the old earth puts forth her tender grass,
By them unfelt, unheeded and unheard.
Our centuries to them are but as strokes
In the dim gamut of some far-off chime.
Unaltering rest their perfect being cloaks--
A thing too vast to hear or feel or see--
Children of Silence and Eternity,
They know no season but the end of time.
poem by Archibald Lampman
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