Study
Somewhere the long mellow note of the blackbird
Quickens the unclasping hands of hazel,
Somewhere the wind-flowers fling their heads back,
Stirred by an impetuous wind. Some ways’ll
All be sweet with white and blue violet.
(Hush now, hush. Where am I?—Biuret—)
On the green wood’s edge a shy girl hovers
From out of the hazel-screen on to the grass,
Where wheeling and screaming the petulant plovers
Wave frighted. Who comes? A labourer, alas!
Oh the sunset swims in her eyes’ swift pool.
(Work, work, you fool——!)
Somewhere the lamp hanging low from the ceiling
Lights the soft hair of a girl as she reads,
And the red firelight steadily wheeling
Weaves the hard hands of my friend in sleep.
And the white dog snuffs the warmth, appealing
For the man to heed lest the girl shall weep.
(Tears and dreams for them; for me
Bitter science—the exams are near.
I wish I bore it more patiently.
I wish you did not wait, my dear,
For me to come: since work I must:
Though it’s all the same when we are dead.—
I wish I was only a bust,
All head.)
poem by David Herbert Lawrence
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Where There's Smoke, There's Failure
So it goes like this,
Guy meets girl.
Guy buys flowers.
Girl puts them in a vase.
Guy buys a ring.
Girl says yes.
Guy goes to work.
Girl goes to work.
Guy meets girl.
Girl meets guy.
Guy and girl fight about girl and guy.
Guy leaves work for new work and gets an apartment by himself.
Girl moves over seas and doesn't have to work any more because she has a new guy and the old guy has to send her money from his new work.
Guy writes poems.
Guy writes about new girl and old girl and new guy and work and old friends.
Guy wants to stop working and sell poems about the stuff in his life so that he can do other stuff in his life without having to go to real work.
Guy does not yet have high selling collection of poems.
Guy goes to work.
Guy meets girl.
Guy buys flowers.
poem by John W. McEwers
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Vies Manquees
A YEAR ago we walked the wood--
A year ago to-day;
A blackbird fluttered round her brood
Deep in the white-flowered may.
We trod the happy woodland ways,
Where sunset streamed between
The hazel stems in long dusk rays,
And turned to gold the green.
A thrush sang where the ferns uncurled,
And clouds of wind-flowers grew:
I missed the meaning of the world
From lack of love for you.
You missed the beauty of the year,
And failed its self to see,
Through too much doubt and too much fear,
And too much love of me.
This year we hear the birds' glad strain,
Again the sunset glows,
We walk the wild wet woods again,
Again the wind-flower blows.
In cloudy white the falling may
Drifts down the scented wind,
And so the secret drifts away
Which we shall never find.
Our drifted spirits are not free
Spring's secret springs to touch,
For now you do not care for me,
And I love you too much.
poem by Edith Nesbit
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sorry Little Girl
SORRY LITTLE GIRL THAT YOU CRY
SORRY LITTLE GIRL THAT HE WENT AWAY
SORRY LITTLE GIRL YOU CARRY SO MUCH PAIN
SORRY LITTLE GIRL IT DIDN'T WORK OUT YOUR WAY
SORRY LITTLE GIRL YOU WILL SEE HIM SOMEDAY
SORRY LITTLE GIRL FOR YOUR TEARS
SORRY LITTLE GIRL I HAVEN'T BEEN THERE
SORRY LITTLE GIRL I LOST MY MIND
SORRY LITTLE GIRL I'M NOT THE ONE YOU CAN LEAN ON
SORRY LITTLE GIRL I CRY TOO
SORRY LITTLE GIRL I CAN'T TAKE BACK THAT DAY
YOU KNOW I WOULD DO ANYTHING FOR YOU
SORRY LITTLE GIRL I COULDN'T WAKE HIM UP, LIKE YOU ASK ME TO
LITTLE GIRL HE LOVES YOU AND YOU KNOW IT'S TRUE
LITTLE GIRL JUST LOOK OVER YOUR SHOULDER HE IS RIGHT BEHIND YOU
LITTLE GIRL PLEASE DON'T CRY ANYMORE
IT MAKES ME SAD TO SEE YOU IN SO MUCH PAIN, I WISH YOU WERE STILL FOUR WHEN A KISS WOULD STILL FIX EVERYTHING
poem by Christina L Johnson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Silence is Deafening
Hush, silly girl, stop breathing.
Hush, silly girl, keep it inside.
Stop, silly girl, wipe you tears.
Stop, silly girl, your crying.
Quit, silly girl, stay still.
Quit, silly girl, don’t move.
Close, silly girl, your eyes.
Close, silly girl, your mouth.
Don't, silly girl, bite my hand.
Don't, silly gril, kick my side.
Yes, silly girl, you’re mine.
Yes, silly girl, you’re mine.
I am before you.
I won’t adore you.
I control you.
You are mine.
Hush.
poem by Lyndee Michelle
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Dead To The Living
Work while it is day: the night cometh, when no man can work.
IN the childhood of April, while purple woods
With the young year's blood in them smiled,
I passed through the lanes and the wakened fields,
And stood by the grave of the child.
And the pain awoke that is never dead
Though it sometimes sleeps, and again
It set its teeth in this heart of mine,
And fastened its claws in my brain:
For it seemed so hard that the little hands
And the little well-loved head
Should be out of reach of my living lips,
And be side by side with the dead--
Not side by side with us who had loved,
But with these who had never seen
The grace of the smile, the gold of the hair,
And the eyes of my baby-queen.
Yet with trees about where the brown birds build,
And with long green grass above,
She lies in the cold sweet breast of earth
Beyond the reach of our love;
Whatever befalls in the coarse loud world,
We know she will never wake.
When I thought of the sorrow she might have known,
I was almost glad for her sake. . . .
Tears might have tired those kiss-closed eyes,
Grief hardened the mouth I kissed;
I was almost glad that my dear was dead
Because of the pain she had missed.
Oh, if I could but have died a child
With a white child-soul like hers,
As pure as the wind-flowers down in the copse,
Where the soul of the spring's self stirs;
Or if I had only done with it all,
And might lie by her side unmoved!
I envied the very clods of earth
Their place near the child I loved!
And my soul rose up in revolt at life,
As I stood dry-eyed by her grave,
When sudden the grass of the churchyard sod
Rolled back like a green smooth wave;
The brown earth looked like the brown sea rocks,
The tombstones were white like spray,
And white like surf were the curling folds
Of the shrouds where the dead men lay;
For each in his place with his quiet face
I saw the dead lie low,
Who had worked and suffered and found life sad,
So many sad years ago.
Unchanged by time I saw them lie
As when first they were laid to rest,
The tired eyes closed, the sad lips still,
And the work-worn hands on the breast.
There were some who had found the green world so grey,
They had left it before their time,
And some were little ones like my dear,
And some had died in their prime;
And some were old, they had had their fill
Of bitter unfruitful hours,
And knew that none of them, none, had known
A flower of a hope like ours!
Through their shut eyelids the dead looked up,
And without a voice they said:
'We lived without hope, without hope we died,
And hopeless we lie here dead;
And death is better than life that draws
Pain in, as it draws in breath,
If life never dreams of a coming day
When life shall not envy death.
Through the dark of our hours and our times we lived,
Uncheered by a single ray
Of such hope as lightens the lives of you
Who are finding life hard to-day;
With our little lanterns of human love
We lighted our dark warm night--
But you in the chill of the dawn are set
With your face to the eastern light.
Freedom is waiting with hands held out
Till you tear the veil from her face--
And when once men have seen the light of her eyes,
And felt her divine embrace,
The light of the world will be risen indeed,
And will shine in the eyes of men,
And those who come after will find life fair,
And their lives worth living then!
Will you strive to the light in your loud rough world,
That these things may come to pass,
Or lie in the shadow beside the child,
And strive to the sun through the grass?'
'My world while I may,' I cried; 'but you
Whose lives were as dark as your grave?'
'We too are a part of the coming light,'
They called through the smooth green wave.
Their white shrouds gleamed as the flood of green
Rolled over and hid them from me--
Hid all but the little hands and the hair,
And the face that I always see.
poem by Edith Nesbit
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Song Of Wandering Aengus
I WENT out to the hazel wood,
Because a fire was in my head,
And cut and peeled a hazel wand,
And hooked a berry to a thread;
And when white moths were on the wing,
And moth-like stars were flickering out,
I dropped the berry in a stream
And caught a little silver trout.
When I had laid it on the floor
I went to blow the fire aflame,
But something rustled on the floor,
And some one called me by my name:
It had become a glimmering girl
With apple blossom in her hair
Who called me by my name and ran
And faded through the brightening air.
Though I am old with wandering
Through hollow lands and hilly lands.
I will find out where she has gone,
And kiss her lips and take her hands;
And walk among long dappled grass,
And pluck till time and times are done
The silver apples of the moon,
The golden apples of the sun.
poem by William Butler Yeats
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Four Places Of Sorrow
There is sorrow for me in the North, where the black wind blows,
(Hush, O Wind of the dirges, O Voice of the restless dead!)
The ache of its cruel keening thro' my heart like an arrow goes,
I see in the tossing waters the sheen of a dear bright head.
There is sorrow for me in the South, where the white wind sings,
(Hush, O Wind of all lovers, crooning a laugh and a cry!)
On the pain of a dream love-haunted breaks the music of wings,
Seagulls, sweeping and swaying, saw ye my dead drift by?
There is sorrow for me in the East, where the red wind burns,
(Hush, O Wind of remorse, O Wind of the scourging flame!)
Under its slow cold dawning the soul of the drowned returns
And wan, in the startled daybreak, a ghost from the sea he came.
There is sorrow for me in the West, where the brown wind raves,
(Hush, O Wind from the bogs, O memory-freighted Wind!)
He is spindrift hither and thither, sport of unweary waves:
Would that my heart were close on his heart, my eyes on his eyes were blind!
poem by Anna Johnston MacManus
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Girl Is Gone
The wind is howling, the thunder is roaring,
my girl is gone
and I can't stop my bitter tears from flowing-
my girl is gone
my girl is gone
my girl is gone
wish I knew where she might be
wish she'd come back
home to me
my girl is gone
my girl is gone
my girl is gone
the world is so lonely
and the sky is so black,
think I'm gonna
die of loneliness
if my baby don't hurry up
and come on back
poem by Dorsey Baker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To Every Girl
To every girl that's said, 'Sex CAN wait'
To every girl that's said, 'You're handsome.'
To every girl that was never too busy to drive across town to see him.
To every girl that gives flowers and a card when he is sick.
To every girl who has given him flowers just because.
To every girl that said she would die for him.
To every girl that really would.
To every girl that took time to do what he wanted to do.
To every girl that he cried in front of.
To every girl that holds hands with him.
To every girl that kisses him with meaning.
To every girl that hugs him when he's sad.
To every girl that hugs him for no reason at all.
To every girl who would give their jacket up for him.
To every girl that calls to make sure he got home safe.
To every girl that would sit and wait for him for hours
just to see him for ten minutes.
To every girl that would give her seat up.
To every girl that just wants to cuddle.
To every girl that reassured that he was handsome
no matter what.
To every girl who told her secrets to him.
To every girl that tried to show how much she cared
through every word and every breath.
To every girl that thought maybe this could be the one.
To every girl that believed in his dreams.
To every girl that would have done anything
so he could achieve them.
To every girl that never laughed at him
when she told him her dreams.
To every girl that walked him to his car.
To every girl that gave her heart.
To every girl who prays that he is happy
even if she is not with him.
...This one bulletin is for you...
Not many girls appreciate nice guys anymore...
And because of this, there are not many left out there...
I guarantee 90% of the women on your page will not re post this because they care more about their image
If you are a nice girl re post this with 'We're a Dying Breed '
If you are a guy that thinks every girl should treat a guy this way
re post this with: 'To Every Girl...'
poem by Eliot Perez
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You Were Right Girl
Its hard to say how long its been, but once upon a time
You were my best friend, Im sorry I hurt you but I loved him, loved him
You said Id get hurt in the end, you tried to warn me with good advice
Instead of listening, I paid the price, yes I did, you told me back then
You said hell love you, leave you, you said his heart was cold as ice
And you were right girl, yes, he played me for a fool, (you were right girl)
Hmm, it all came true, (you were right girl), I know
I should have known it all along, (you were right girl)
Yes, you were right and I was wrong, I thought you blamed him for your mistakes
That all your put downs were just sour grapes, you told me back then
That theyll be lyin, cryin and it wont be his heart that breaks
And ooh, (you were right girl) you were right girl
He played me for a fool, (you were right girl) oh
It all came true, you were (you were right girl) right girl
Yes, I should have known it all along (you were right girl)
You were right girl, you were right and I was wrong
Oh, what made me think that I was different from you
That I could make him do what he wouldnt do for you
Now you told me back then Id never change him, change him
But hed change me before hes through, and ooh (you were right girl)
You were right girl, he played me for a fool, he really did
(you were right girl) well, it all came true, (you were right girl)
You were so right, I should have known it all along (you were right girl)
Oh, yes, you were right and I was wrong, oh, (you were right girl)
He really played me for a fool, (you were right girl)
Nah, nah, nah, nah, nah, it all came true (you were right girl)
Yeah, (you were right girl) you were right girl
I should have known it all along, (you were righ girl)
You were right girlfriend, you were right and I was wrong, woo, woo, woo
(you were right girl) you were right my girl, (you were right girl)
You were right my girl, he played me for a great big fool
song performed by by Natalie Cole
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Color Of The Wind
The wind blows blue
when it misses you.
the wind blows red
when it knows your dead.
the wind blows green
when it it sees you being mean.
the wind blows white
when your about to take flight.
the wind blows black
whenever it knows your not coming back.
the wind blows pink
whenever your blood is ink.
the wind blows orange
whenever you cant rhyme with orange.
the wind blows yellow
whenever you cant be mellow.
if i am black
then why wont you ever come back?
if i am red
then shall i weep because your dead?
if i am blue
then should i miss you?
if i am green
then must you be very mean?
if i am yellow
then why wont you be mellow?
poem by Jasmine Appelhaus
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Be Your Own Girl
I know youre tired of waking up on the floor
Pushed to the edge with nothing heavy to hold
Using your clothes as a blanket and a bed
Holding your hands just to lay your head
I know you dont remember ever falling down
Who picked you up, who gathered around
But you dont have to be his girl
And you dont have to be my girl
You can always be your own girl
With the sound of your feet you follow yourself to sleep
Restless and ageless and looking for somethin to keep
When you finally fall asleep youre awake in dreams
Hanging by the ankles in a skeleton ravine
I know youve kicked the lights, fell on your shoes
Punched out the colors, leaving you the blues
But you dont have to be his girl
And you dont have to be my girl
You can always be your own girl
Theres a soft melody thats ringing in my ears
Simple and slow and it always brings you here
With broken crayons youve scribbled on the wall
Shapes of nothing and shadow box them all
Your fingertips are broke and your knees dont bend
Your imagination took the worst hit and cut its skin
But you dont have to be his girl
You dont have to be my girl
You can always be your own girl
Theres a soft melody thats ringing in my ears
And its the same one you could never avoid in yours
And if you lay down you can hear from tongue to tails
About a tattooed rhythm and drumming by color wheel
Your rung is broken on the bottom of the rope
And you cant tie another, another knot of hope
And you dont have to be his girl
And you dont have to be my girl
You can always be your own girl
song performed by by Wallflowers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Little girl! ! ! (please read my poems i want to know what u all think)
Little girl don't you cry, everything will be ok
Little girl please just listen to what i have got to say
Little girl make a wish, sit back, watch the stars and pray
Little girl some one will soon come along to help you guide your way
Little girl just relax and go and play
Little girl someone will be there to brighten up your day
Little girl your still young you have plenty of time
Little girl just talk to me then you'll be fine
Little girl im not a perfessional but il try my very best
Little girl i just dont like to see you in this horrible mess
Little girl take my hand, be happy don't be blue
Little girl im sorry to say but it was not true
Little girl dont you look for love, let it come and find you
Little girl you will just have to wait theres nothing else you can do
Little girl please stop sobbing, because you made a mistake
Little girl just remember its an easy thing to make
Little girl you got to beleive that is true
Little girl nobodys perfect not even you
Little girl your so special in your own little way
Little girl don't listen to what anyone else as got to say
Little girl i know it's hard, but please don't you give in
Little girl please be strong, dont ever let him win
Little girl you're not alone, that will always be true
Little girl so young and sweet, I'll always be hear for you
Little girl close your eyes and try and let the past go
Little girl if you dont give it a shot you will never know.
poem by Caz Faulkner
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Chimney Sweeper
When my mother died I was very young,
And my father sold me while yet my tongue
Could scarcely cry ‘ 'weep! 'weep! 'weep! 'weep!’
So your chimneys I sweep, and in soot I sleep.
There’s little Tom Dacre, who cried when his head,
That curl'd like a lamb’s back, was shav'd: so I said
‘Hush, Tom! never mind it, for when your head’s bare
You know that the soot cannot spoil your white hair.’
And so he was quiet, and that very night,
As Tom was a-sleeping, he had such a sight!—
That thousands of sweepers, Dick, Joe, Ned, and Jack,
Were all of them lock'd up in coffins of black.
And by came an Angel who had a bright key,
And he open'd the coffins & set them all free;
Then down a green plain leaping, laughing, they run
And wash in a river, and shine in the Sun.
Then naked & white, all their bags left behind,
They rise upon clouds, and sport in the wind;
And the Angel told Tom, if he’d be a good boy,
He’d have God for his father, & never want joy.
And so Tom awoke; and we rose in the dark,
And got with our bags & our brushes to work.
Tho' the morning was cold, Tom was happy & warm;
So if all do their duty, they need not fear harm.
poem by William Blake from Songs of Innocence (1789)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Just A Girl
I'm just a girl, a hopeless case.
Living in the world a familier place.
I'm just a girl, with tears in her eyes.
Swimming in a pool of cold hearted lies.
I'm just a girl, always second best.
With sleepless nights and no time to rest
I'm just a girl, with scars all around.
Always screaming with out a sound
I'm juts a girl, giving up on life.
Running from my problems headed for the knife
I'm just a girl, who's messed up in the head.
With hope and wishes and prayers to be dead
I'm just a girl, with nothing to live for.
Who shut out the world and fell to the floor.
I'm just a girl, living in fear
In the dark lonely place, flooded with tears.
I'm just a girl, behind closed doors,
soon to be gone and live no more.
poem by Ruth warren
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Don't Wanna Work
Well i give it little care
Does anybody out there even know
I'm in here?
I just keep my movement going
Somewhere
Like playing in the background baby
Like playing in the background baby
I play the game
You play the way that most men would choose
I'm surprised at you
Way back in the middle of a broken down love affair
You and i found each other
And we fell in love
I ain't never met a man and woman get along better
Than you and i when get together
Still i say
I don't wanna work that hard
I don't wanna work that hard
Don't wanna work that hard
I don't wanna work that hard
Don't wanna work that hard
I don't wanna work that hard
Not if it makes me cry
No no
See the lady walking down the street
She's got on high heel shoes
And her hair full of curlers
She's got stiletto nails
And some black mascara
She's got a push up and a pick up
I tell you that girl's working overtime
I don't wanna work that hard
I don't wanna work that hard
I don't wanna work that hard
Don't wanna work that hard
I don't wanna work that hard
Not if it makes me cry
No no no no no no
I don't wanna work
I don't wanna work that hard
I don't wanna work it if makes me cry
Spent last night
Talking to myself in bed
Wondering why i do this over
Over and over again
I don't know
I, i, i, i don't wanna work that hard
I don't wanna work that hard
Not when it makes me cry
I don't wanna work that hard
I don't wanna work not that hard
I don't wanna work it it makes me cry
I don't wanna work that hard
I don't wanna work not that hard
I don't wanna work if it makes me cry
song performed by by Donna Summer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Work, Sleep, Work, Sleep, Work
Work, sleep, work, sleep,
Work, sleep, work, sleep,
Work, sleep, work, sleep,
Work:
Work, sleep, work, sleep,
Work, sleep, work, sleep,
Work, sleep, work, sleep,
Work.
Oh free me please with gentle ease
From work, sleep, work, sleep, work!
This odium, pounding tedium
Of my work, sleep, work, sleep, work.
Just whisk me off to lands afar
From work, sleep, work, sleep, work -
That grinding train of rhythmic pain
Called ‘Work, sleep, work, sleep, work.’
Poor neural circuits fizzle and pop
In work, sleep, work, sleep, work,
In trying to make some sense of all this
Work, sleep, work, sleep, work.
But Hark! I see a golden gleam -
A saving spirit of hope:
‘You’re fired! ’ He screams. What news to bear,
This wondrous hangman’s rope!
So now I’m free, released from all this
Work, sleep, work, sleep, work -
Eternal peace and rest for me, no
Work, sleep, work, sleep, work.
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Scythe Song
MOWERS, weary and brown, and blithe,
What is the word methinks ye know,
Endless over-word that the Scythe
Sings to the blades of the grass below?
Scythes that swing in the grass and clover,
Something, still, they say as they pass;
What is the word that, over and over,
Sings the Scythe to the flowers and grass?
Hush, ah hush, the Scythes are saying,
Hush, and heed not, and fall asleep;
Hush, they say to the grasses swaying;
Hush, they sing to the clover deep!
Hush—’t is the lullaby Time is singing—
Hush, and heed not, for all things pass;
Hush, ah hush! and the Scythes are swinging
Over the clover, over the grass!
poem by Andrew Lang
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Four Letter 'Work' Song
Work me up, work me out, work me flip side down.
Work me here, work me there, work me with renown.
Work me hot, work me greedy,
work me through and through.
Work me to the very marrow,
work me just like I'd work you.
Work me proud, work me late,
work me do not hesitate.
Won't you let me work for you?
Work me til I'm black and blue.
Work me steady, work me needy, work me to a lather.
Work me til my backbone breaks, and the buzzards gather.
Work me in, work me under, work me til I bleed,
Work me over red hot coals, work me like a boss in need.
Work me nasty, work me silly, work me through the clover.
Up down, 'n' in between, into a slipknot sweet Jehovah.
Work me, work me, go ahead.
Work me, work me, til I'm dead.
Buddy Bee Anthony
poem by Buddy Bee Anthony
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fingers To The Bone
Everything went wrong
Im sorry boys, Ive got to let you go
Weve had some hard times
And the long rain, it didnt show
Hired hands, Ive seen them come and go
But you dont come much better
Todays blue monday
I just got a bad news letter
This day has come
The darkest cloud on our horizon
My hands are tied down
To that promise note I signed upon
Always been this way
Its the poor man who gets hurt
All you ever work for
Is to leave your footprints in the dirt
You work your fingers to the bone
The deed is done
The fruit will fall to someone elses hand
Thats how the land lies
Now we all know where we stand
Youll have to walk away
Dont let them see you running
Todays blue monday
I should have seen it coming
You work your fingers to the bone
If sweat and tears were all it took
To make this valley green
Wed be alright but now its gone
Theyve taken everything
They say its just an act of god
And thats the way ill wind blows
Youve got thirty days to pack your bags
Say goodbye, hit the road
You work your fingers to the bone
song performed by by Deep Purple
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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