A World of Rolling Dust
Dogs are chewing there own legs down to the bone
As children play within the bloodshed attempting
To keep happy and bright a world of rolling dust.
Open bullet wounds in the Childs side reveal the
Uncaring justice of Ares, the wood nymphs of the
Wild night are praying to Bacchus, calling him to
Fuel the ecstasy of man towards love of his brother
Upon the vine they call, falling upon there knees in prayer
They await him in silence to stem from his
Father’s thigh, Zeus god of the sky is watching as
Ever leaving to men and the Fates their destiny
Yet as he watches he sighs for it seems as though
Man has lost his knowledge divine, he hath separated
The science beyond a need to know each other for
Once in the world all wisdom was as a circle of
Kings who ruled over a kingdom unison
Yet now it seems that each hath created his boundaries
Each resents the other to occupy his land and so
Man hath forgotten the eternity within the palm of his hand,
So man has lost his ability to recognise and understand
That divinity lay within himself, the only resemblance of
His nature is the one he finds in the eyes of the ones
He loves; those that make him swoon with the delight
Of the blue moon full, for in the eyes of a true lover
We may uncover the secret of the midnight suns concealing,
Through love we may recover and heal those that we hold
Just as we below are as those above, forever young yet an eternity old.
poem by David Lacey
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Related quotes
Wilderness
What sanctuary am I to seek beyond the blanket of your arms
When I can find no asylum in the eyes of another?
Familiar faces seem strange to me
A circle of kings surround me
A circle bound in time and set by destiny to strive
To live and be alive within the moment ever after.
I have forgotten the wisdom of the willow man's secret
I have lost the ability to see with eyes of ecstasy upon the world
As if it were of innocence.
Forget the night unwinding
I find myself in the arms of the one who holds me closest.
What is the dance without the dancer?
Think not that I have forgotten the love that lay fresh for you amongst the rotten.
We are as lost within the wilderness -
I have arrived at the town of my birth to find the generations lost to self destruction.
Is it a lifetime of parading the silver screen you seek?
Or is it that you would inspire the dreams of men?
We have created ourselves a world into which we sink
Free of the shackles of conformity
Free of the shackles of normality
Free of the shackles of reality
I am free for they shatter in binding my soul.
Deserted upon an island
Left alone through a mutiny of the soul
Underground unfound are we
Those souls of midnight ecstasy
That seek to set their spirit free
And be as one as all should be.
poem by David Lacey
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Mothers Day2007
She hath my heart, she is my mum.
She hath my heart, she is my only, she is my one.
She hath my heart, though rough winds may blow.
She hath my heart, still her love will flow, her love will always show.
She hath my heart, I thank my lucky stars.
She hath my heart and i have hers.
She hath my heart, i long for her presence.
She hath my heart, her name is essence.
She hath my heart and forever she will.
Lifetimes will come and go, i will love her still
She hath my heart, this fact i cant conceal
Our bond is like sentiment you just cant kill
She hath my heart in times of sorrow.
She hath my heart, yesterday, today and tomorrow.
She hath my heart, my voice will sing.
She hath my heart, she makes the bell in my heart ring.
She hath my heart, in times of trouble.
She wont stumble no i will not let her crumble.
She hath my heart in each and every way
And my love for her grows with each day
She hath my heart for we were once one.
She hath my heart, the heart of the boy inside the man
I hath her heart, the heart we once shared.
Though separated in body the hearts still paired.
She hath my heart i need her near.
She hath my heart my mama dear
She hath my heart and she already knows
In a world of thorny bushes she stands out like rose
She hath my heart for she is always by my side
When the sun sets she is my light, she is my guide.
poem by Soul Child
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Reals Unknown: Still they are known to the heart of man
This same land that knew the footsteps of Arthur and Merlin
Shall once again know an age of chivalry
When the misunderstandings of our race shall fall into the shadow
Hiding and we shall stride as one together.
Yet many ages will pass before we sit each upon the grass
Laughing at the wars of the long lost times and mourning the
Souls of our ancestors who could not understand one another,
In this far distant future age men shall walk the earth
As the ancient masters of the past, Hermes shall be reborn
Just as the Christ child may be born again in a thousand incarnations
Dionysus shall ride the forest trail and men shall once more
Know the Gods as there fathers and knows children as the seed of the gods.
Aphrodite is worshipped through the ritual of vanity,
Hermes is worshipped through the studious and those wide known travelers,
Zeus is worshipped through the power of promise
And through respect and fear of the skies.
Poseidon is worshipped by those who still consider the sea as sacred in its power
Just as Artemis and Apollo are known through the masculinity
Of our solar power to the cycles of the blood moon waning.
Still skyclad Bacchants cheer with he roar of their gods in there tones,
Still we see ecstasy fuel the excitement of youth, just as wine
And alcohol are loved by most.
This present age knows only the loss of the names of those we worship
In our ritual yet soon there shall be men who foretell the tales of old beyond
The walls of lecture halls, children shall know the joy of Homers verse above
All they know of Biblical verse, for although holy and truly deep in truth,
The tradition of religion and its institutions hath been corrupted by the vanity
And evil of man, it would be safe to say that if ever the devil walked the earth
He did so in the name of undisputable doctrine, for this evil there is no measure,
In seeking your treasure as truth shall you find all the pleasures
Of the world available to your understanding.
Take in the land and embrace the day,
Understand the words you say and so
Shall you understand the way to the love
Of your opposite just as you may understand
The love of the Gods in every form.
Still Hades is feared as lord of the unknown realm,
Still bright eyed Athena startles with her insight of the most beautiful wisdom incarnate,
Artemis lady of the wild, child of Zeus and twin of Dionysus, fires silver arrows throughout the night whilst Hephaestus, hammer of the gods is sweltering within his forge.
Ares is worshipped most of all the men of this earth,
His power is strong yet the honor of Ares is lost to the cold slaughter of many.
Hestia is still worshiped by guarded fires and virgin purity,
Still married woman may be adorned with courage by Hera
To strive against there husbands tyranny. Pan may be found
In the countryside’s of Europe far from his native land, his beloved Arcady,
Dancing in circles with nymphs, chasing them and constantly rejected,
Yet never neglecting the love he has for all the creatures wild.
Still they are worshipped and still they are strong
Awaiting you to call upon them in all honour.
Deny not the feminine influence running within
The blood of sympathetic wisdom untold.
poem by David Lacey
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A Void Of Blue
Fields of green surround my soul
Fields of green they make me whole
A concept lost eternity
A concept forever young to me
A void of blue engulfs my soul
Leaves me drunk within the bowl
A flavour of eternity
Reveals to me identity
Curious of the falling night
Lost within the calling light
A flavour of eternity
Incites my curiosity
Still all is one within my form
Peace before the foaming storm
All is falling endlessly
Within a heart of boundless purity.
Ah! Sweet ecstasy.
poem by David Lacey
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This Den of Dreams
This den of dreams breeds Art of a decadent nature.
Here it seems romance hath died a death of solitude.
How can justice be done if the righteous are numbed,
Forever dumbed down in submission. Open your eyes,
Allow the light to reveal the skies concealing a truth in hope.
poem by David Lacey
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Big Brother
Big Brother
Where are you?
My heart is broken
My burdens to much to bear
My lovers have left me
All alone
No one to talk to
No one to care
I can't find you big brother
Where are you?
I am lost in the darkness
Hatred eats my soul away
Please come
I need you
Come feed me
Come hold me close
Heal my wounds
Tell me you love me
And I'll always be true
I need you by my side
There you are big brother
I see you
Holding your arms
As I come near you
Holding me close
As I give you my broken heart
You fixed it Big Brother!
You took away the night
And turned it bright
Showing me the light
You paid the price
For all my mistakes
Thanks you so much
All my love is yours
For no other to claim
I know you love me forever
And so do I
You're always near
You always know
You always pick me up when I stumble
You always hear me when I pray
I do everything
That I have to do
To be with you forever
Cuz I love you
Dear Big Brother
No one can ever change that
Cuz I love you more than anything
I love you Big Brother
Forever
And forever
Keep me safe
And I'll do my part
Forever
Together we'll stay
Big brother
You are my heart
How great thou art
Now one can take that away
Now forever
I am happy
Cuz you took my night away
poem by Bella Ravenstar
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Sir Richard's Song
(A. D. 1066)
I followed my Duke ere I was a lover,
To take from England fief and fee;
But now this game is the other way over--
But now England hath taken me!
I had my horse, my shield and banner,
And a boy's heart, so whole and free;
But now I sing in another manner--
But now England hath taken me!
As for my Father in his tower,
Asking news of my ship at sea,
He will remember his own hour--
Tell him England hath taken me!
As for my Mother in her bower,
That rules my Father so cunningly,
She will remember a maiden's power--
Tell her England hath taken me!
As for my Brother in Rouen City,
A nimble and naughty' page is he,
But he will come to suffer and pity--
Tell him England hath taken me!
As for my little Sister waiting
In the pleasant orchards of Normandie,
Tell her youth is the time for mating--
Tell her England hath taken me!
As for my comrades in camp and highway
That lift their eyebrows scornfully,
Tell them their way is not my way--
Tell them England hath taken me!
Kings and Princes and Barons famed,
Knights and Captains in your degree;
Hear me a little before I am blamed--
Seeing England hath taken me!
Howso great man's strength be reckoned,
There are two things he cannot flee.
Love is the first, and Death is the second-
And Love in England hath taken me!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Lines In A Letter To His Lady Cousin, Honor Driden, Who Had Given Him A Silver Inkstand, With A Set Of Writing Materials, 1655
For since 'twas mine, the white hath lost its hue,
To show 'twas ne'er it self but whilst in you,
The virgin wax hath blushed it self to red
Since it with me hath lost its maidenhead.
You, fairest nymph, are wax: O, may you be
As well in softness as in purity!
Till fate and your own happy choice reveal
Whom you shall so far bless to make your seal.
poem by John Dryden
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I Feel Lost
You may fear for me, for I fear the world
Beyond the bounds of the fireplace curled.
I feel lost, sunken deep within a solitude
That offers no solace, all I’m offered is remorse.
I could so easily believe that I had been deceived
At some point upon the course of my journey,
Yet it seems that it is I who hath deceived myself
Making a deeper blue the sky, forever lost as I am in sighing.
I’ve fallen again alike so many times before,
Like so many loves I’ve known she offers me the door
Yet allows no clue to be known as to what lies within.
I feel as though I could swim an eternity in her arms
If only she would allow it, yet when she weeps alike
When she sleeps I’m never the one to hold her hand.
She wishes to escape this land and claims that there
Is nothing to tie her here, through blue eyed innocence
She perceives a world of nightshades as a dream realm
A world within which our fantasies are hers to fulfil,
I know she is right in following her dreams, I know
She is ever moving closer to the light that I deny from myself
In each passing moment. A movement towards descent
Keeps me falling throughout every moment my heart is calling out her name,
No one could tie her down, no one who truly loved her
Would ever wish to, this my friend is a feeling that was
Always going to do me harm and though the storm awaits
And is of yet unbroken, I know that every feeling I keep unspoken
Will leave me sleepless upon my journey home to the abyss.
I know I could travel endlessly
Within the recess of my mindscape
Yet alone, here, stoned, I know
I could never call forever
This empty heart my home.
When she speaks of foreign lands
Dismay doth take my heart in hand
Confusing understanding of how true
A selfless love can be.
The fear recedes within this heart of mine
I’m fading, sinking, half the man I once
Dreamed I could become, half the man
I was when my journey begun,
Here, I am half a song un-sung.
poem by David Lacey
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My Delight and Thy Delight
My delight and thy delight
Walking, like two angels white,
In the gardens of the night:
My desire and thy desire
Twining to a tongue of fire,
Leaping live, and laughing higher:
Thro' the everlasting strife
In the mystery of life.
Love, from whom the world begun,
Hath the secret of the sun.
Love can tell, and love alone,
Whence the million stars were strewn,
Why each atom knows its own,
How, in spite of woe and death,
Gay is life, and sweet is breath:
This he taught us, this we knew,
Happy in his science true,
Hand in hand as we stood
'Neath the shadows of the wood,
Heart to heart as we lay
In the dawning of the day.
poem by Robert Seymour Bridges
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A Ballad of London
AH, London! London! our delight,
Great flower that opens but at night,
Great City of the midnight sun,
Whose day begins when day is done.
Lamp after lamp against the sky
Opens a sudden beaming eye,
Leaping alight on either hand,
The iron lilies of the Strand.
Like dragonflies, the hansoms hover,
With jeweled eyes, to catch the lover;
The streets are full of lights and loves,
Soft gowns, and flutter of soiled doves.
The human moths about the light
Dash and cling close in dazed delight,
And burn and laugh, the world and wife,
For this is London, this is life!
Upon thy petals butterflies,
But at thy root, some say, there lies,
A world of weeping trodden things,
Poor worms that have not eyes or wings.
From out corruption of their woe
Springs this bright flower that charms us so,
Men die and rot deep out of sight
To keep this jungle-flower bright.
Paris and London, World-Flowers twain
Wherewith the World-Tree blooms again,
Since Time hath gathered Babylon,
And withered Rome still withers on.
Sidon and Tyre were such as ye,
How bright they shone upon the tree!
But Time hath gathered, both are gone,
And no man sails to Babylon.
poem by Richard Le Gallienne
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Bring Flowers
Bring flowers, young flowers, for the festal board,
To wreathe the cup ere the wine is pour'd;
Bring flowers! they are springing in wood and vale,
Their breath floats out on the southern gale,
And the touch of the sunbeam hath waked the rose,
To deck the hall where the bright wine flows.
Bring flowers to strew in the conqueror's path-
He hath shaken thrones with his stormy wrath!
He comes with the spoils of nations back,
The vines lie crush'd in his chariot's track,
The turf looks red where he won the day-
Bring flowers to die in the conqueror's way!
Bring flowers to the captive's lonely cell,
They have tales of the joyous woods to tell;
Of the free blue streams, and the glowing sky,
And the bright world shut from his languid eye;
They will bear him a thought of the sunny hours,
And a dream of his youth-bring him flowers, wild flowers!
Bring flowers, fresh flowers, for the bride to wear!
They were born to blush in her shining hair.
She is leaving the home of her childhood's mirth,
She hath bid farewell to her father's hearth,
Her place is now by another's side-
Bring flowers for the locks of the fair young bride!
Bring flowers, pale flowers, o'er the bier to shed,
A crown for the brow of the early dead!
For this through its leaves hath the white-rose burst,
For this in the woods was the violet nurs'd.
Though they smile in vain for what once was ours,
They are love's last gift-bring ye flowers, pale flowers!
Bring flowers to the shrine where we kneel in prayer,
They are nature's offering, their place is there!
They speak of hope to the fainting heart,
With a voice of promise they come and part,
They sleep in dust through the wintry hours,
They break forth in glory-bring flowers, bright flowers!
poem by Felicia Dorothea Hemans
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The Stars
The heavens declare the glory of God, and the firmament showeth his handy-work.
Psalm xix. 1.
NO cloud obscures the summer sky,
The moon in brightness walks on high,
And, set in azure, every star
Shines, like a gem of heaven, afar!
Child of the earth! oh! lift thy glance
To yon bright firmament's expanse;
The glories of its realm explore,
And gaze, and wonder, and adore!
Doth it not speak to every sense
The marvels of Omnipotence?
Seest thou not there th' Almighty name,
Inscribed in characters of flame?
Count o'er those lamps of quenchless light,
That sparkle through the shades of night;
Behold them!?can a mortal boast
To number that celestial host?
Mark well each little star, whose rays
In distant splendor meet thy gaze;
Each is a world by Him sustained,
Who from eternity hath reigned.
Each, shining not for earth alone,
Hath suns and planets of its own,
And beings, whose existence springs
From Him, th' all-powerful King of kings.
Haply, those glorious beings know
Nor stain of guilt, nor tear of woe;
But raising still th' adoring voice,
For ever in their God rejoice.
What then art thou, oh! child of clay!
Amid creation's grandeur, say?
?E'en as an insect on the breeze,
E'en as a dew-drop, lost in seas!
Yet fear thou not!?the sovereign hand,
Which spread the ocean and the land,
And hung the rolling spheres in air,
Hath, e'en for thee, a Father's care!
Be thou at peace!?th' all-seeing eye,
Pervading earth, and air, and sky,
The searching glance which none may flee,
Is still, in mercy, turned on thee.
poem by Felicia Dorothea Hemans
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Rest
O Earth, lie heavily upon her eyes;
Seal her sweet eyes weary of watching, Earth;
Lie close around her; leave no room for mirth
With its harsh laughter, nor for sound of sighs.
She hath no questions, she hath no replies,
Hush'd in and curtain'd with a blessed dearth
Of all that irk'd her from the hour of birth;
With stillness that is almost Paradise.
Darkness more clear than noonday holdeth her,
Silence more musical than any song;
Even her very heart has ceased to stir:
Until the morning of Eternity
Her rest shall not begin nor end, but be;
And when she wakes she will not think it long.
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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As You Came from the Holy Land
As you came from the holy land
Of Walsingham,
Met you not with my true love
By the way as you came?
'How shall I know your true love,
That have met many one,
I went to the holy land,
That have come, that have gone?'
She is neither white, nor brown,
But as the heavens fair;
There is none hath a form so divine
In the earth, or the air.
'Such a one did I meet, good sir,
Such an angelic face,
Who like a queen, like a nymph, did appear
By her gait, by her grace.'
She hath left me here all alone,
All alone, as unknown,
Who sometimes did me lead with herself,
And me loved as her own.
'What's the cause that she leaves you alone,
And a new way doth take,
Who loved you once as her own,
And her joy did you make?'
I have lov'd her all my youth;
But now old, as you see,
Love likes not the falling fruit
From the withered tree.
Know that Love is a careless child,
And forgets promise past;
He is blind, he is deaf when he list,
And in faith never fast.
His desire is a dureless content,
And a trustless joy:
He is won with a world of despair,
And is lost with a toy.
Of womenkind such indeed is the love,
Or the word love abus'd,
Under which many childish desires
And conceits are excus'd.
But true love is a durable fire,
In the mind ever burning,
Never sick, never old, never dead,
From itself never turning.
poem by Sir Walter Raleigh
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He Hath Given Me Knowledge
'Behold, He hath heard my cry by day,
And He hath given me knowledge by visions in the night time.'*
He hath too ensured a test of my faith, by way
Of separation from the object of my adorement, until the right time!
Were I left to my own devices, I would surely fail;
Because He loves me so very much, my Heavenly Father saw to avail
Me with the requisite strength of mind and faith of heart
To bide with patience, and await my true love's impart.
I would bide forever, if but rewarded with one day;
No matter of time, nor of distance, could cause my faith's allay;
I do not let doubt be; I carry not, worry;
I covet not, more devoutly; I need not, hurry;
Where and when He is assured that we are prime-
Then and only then, shall it be the right time!
*Book of Mormon,2 Nephi, Ch.4
-Maurice Harris,10 December 2010
poem by Maurice Harris
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But A Matter Of Time
My beloved, upon this day of myriad amorous thought,
I shall attempt to convey what your love hath brought!
Bestowed unto me hath been days, beauteous and bright-
Whence even the Sun hath not been within my sight!
Days are rife with jollity, whence upon thee I ponder,
Many more, yet to come, in our life, of unending wonder!
Count me now, most fortuitous, my heart's elation abiding-
To thee, and all the world, this soul's capture, I am confiding!
As though I had wished upon a 1,000 stars, falling-
God hath answered this loving heart's calling;
He hath not just seen to my love's fitting requite,
He hath ensured I may love, with all my might!
Ne'er before, in time's hallowed history
Hath this greatest of emotion's enlightenment
Been anything but an unattainable mystery-
My loyalty to love, He did sight and sent
His most beloved beauty, His Angel, most highly regarded
To see fitting continuance of a love, many years ago, started!
God smiles upon me, each and every day-
Taken away so much pain, supplanted with this beauteous ray
Of resplendent beautificence, mine eyes have never seen-
As sikerly, in the world's annals, there hath ne'er been!
My life, entire, I could most certainly spend
To endeavor recompense, yet it would never end-
To honor you, proper, I shall surely strive, still,
With time's infinity, its only lasting rival!
Ne'er did I believe true love, as this, attainable-
As it was my own belief, I must be amenable
To love of another more than of self, heightened and true-
At a time most disbelieving of same, I found this, with you!
Time and distance mean naught, as now I know of your existence-
Shown to be hopelessly futile, is any form of resistance;
I was meant to become, for your consort, prime-
I now know my true love's avail is but a matter of time!
Maurice Harris,10 February 2010
poem by Maurice Harris
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As ye came from the Holy Land
As ye came from the holy land
Of Walsinghame,
Met you not with my true love
By the way as you came?
How should I know your true love,
That have met many a one
As I came from the holy land,
That have come, that have gone?
She is neither white nor brown,
But as the heavens fair;
There is none hath her form divine
In the earth or the air.
Such a one did I meet, good sir,
Such an angelic face,
Who like a nymph, like a queen, did appear
In her gait, in her grace.
She hath left me here alone
All alone, as unknown,
Who sometime did me lead with herself,
And me loved as her own.
What's the cause that she leaves you alone
And a new way doth take,
That sometime did love you as her own,
And her joy did you make?
I have loved her all my youth,
But now am old, as you see:
Love likes not the falling fruit,
Nor the withered tree.
Know that Love is a careless child,
And forgets promise past:
He is blind, he is deaf when he list,
And in faith never fast.
His desire is a dureless content,
And a trustless joy;
He is won with a world of despair,
And is lost with a toy.
Of womenkind such indeed is the love,
Or the word love abused,
Under which many childish desires
And conceits are excused.
But true love is a durable fire,
In the mind ever burning,
Never sick, never dead, never cold,
From itself never turning.
poem by Anonymous Olde English
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A Sunday Prayer For Our Lost Sisters And Brothers
Dear Father God, once again I come to you on a Sunday morning.
Father please know that I love you dearly, I respect your name,
I love your son Jesus. Father know that I give thanks for all that you have given, your wondrous views, your precious animal kingdom, the miracle of childbirth and more.
Father this Sunday I would like to focus on praying for your children who deny you, those who say you don’t exist, those that
refuse to acknowledge you in any way. Yes Lord I pray for them
for they are lost and as your son said a long time ago, “they no not what they do”. Father cleanse their minds, open their eyes and show them the way to the truth. Father speak to them, walk with
them.
Father these people are lost, misguided and need you in their lives,
although they may never ask you Lord, give me the knowledge,
wisdom, patience and strength to know how best to minister to
these non believers. Use me Lord as a vessel to deliver your
word so they may understand there is no other that comes before
you.
Lord we all have our problems, we are all sinners, I have sinned
and still have weaknesses, but Lord I would never deny you, I
get my strength from you, I know when I have fallen you will be
there to pick me up and start me once again on the right track. I
know you will comfort me in my saddest hours. I know I will
here the whispers of your precious voice, I know you love me, I
have faith in you and I trust only in you and not in man. I belive
only in you and not in man, I know I can deal with any situation
with you by my side. Father I want these people to know you as
I do.
I ask this prayer this Sunday morning in the name of your precious
son Jesus. Thank you Father, Amen.
poem by Melvina Germain
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By Night when Others Soundly Slept
By night when others soundly slept
And hath at once both ease and Rest,
My waking eyes were open kept
And so to lie I found it best.
I sought him whom my Soul did Love,
With tears I sought him earnestly.
He bow'd his ear down from Above.
In vain I did not seek or cry.
My hungry Soul he fill'd with Good;
He in his Bottle put my tears,
My smarting wounds washt in his blood,
And banisht thence my Doubts and fears.
What to my Saviour shall I give
Who freely hath done this for me?
I'll serve him here whilst I shall live
And Loue him to Eternity.
poem by Anne Bradstreet
Submitted by anonym
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