The House Of Splendour
‘Tis Evanoe's,
A house not made with hands,
But out somewhere beyond the worldly ways
Her gold is spread, above, around, inwoven;
Strange ways and walls are fashioned out of it.
And I have seen my Lady in the sun,
Her hair was spread about, a sheaf of wings,
And red the sunlight was, behind it all.
And I have seen her there within her house,
With six great sapphires hung along the wall,
Low, panel-shaped, a-level with her knees,
All her robe was woven of pale gold.
There are there many rooms and all of gold,
Of woven walls deep patterned, of email,
Of beaten work; and through the claret stone,
Set to some weaving, comes the aureate light.
Here am I come perforce my love of her,
Behold mine adoration
Maketh me clear, and there are powers in this
Which, played on by the virtues of her soul,
Break down the four-square walls of standing time.
poem by Ezra Pound
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Related quotes
Truly Great
My walls outside must have some flowers,
My walls within must have some books;
A house that's small; a garden large,
And in it leafy nooks.
A little gold that's sure each week;
That comes not from my living kind,
But from a dead man in his grave,
Who cannot change his mind.
A lovely wife, and gentle too;
Contented that no eyes but mine
Can see her many charms, nor voice
To call her beauty fine.
Where she would in that stone cage live,
A self-made prisoner, with me;
While many a wild bird sang around,
On gate, on bush, on tree.
And she sometimes to answer them,
In her far sweeter voice than all;
Till birds, that loved to look on leaves,
Will doat on a stone wall.
With this small house, this garden large,
This little gold, this lovely mate,
With health in body, peace in heart--
Show me a man more great.
poem by William Henry Davies
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Gold
Pale gold of the walls, gold
of the centers of daisies, yellow roses
pressing from a clear bowl. All day
we lay on the bed, my hand
stroking the deep
gold of your thighs and your back.
We slept and woke
entering the golden room together,
lay down in it breathing
quickly, then
slowly again,
caressing and dozing, your hand sleepily
touching my hair now.
We made in those days
tiny identical rooms inside our bodies
which the men who uncover our graves
will find in a thousand years,
shining and whole.
poem by Donald Hall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Have You Experienced Inside A Wall Within A Wall Within A Wall?
i laugh since i broke a wall and i smile because finally i am free
and yet when i try to smile anew i find myself inside another wall again.
i break another wall again and again and again
but the walls keep walling me like i am its lover.
and finally i give up, i feel the walls too loving and caring for me.
and then i care for the walls and learn to love each corner
its thickness its soundless world
and then i tell the house where the walls are growing healthy,
i am glad about walls. They keep me secure. And then finally i said it for once.
the walls love me. and i love the walls since then.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Walls
Walls of stone and walls of brick,
Some walls thin and some walls thick,
Walls so high and walls so low,
Walls to hide and walls to show.
Walls quite short and walls quite tall,
Some walls, last well, some walls fall,
Walls for comfort, walls of hate,
Walls for security, walls ornate.
Some as a barricade, some to support,
Walls of wood and walls of iron wrought,
Walls as a barrier, walls to enclose,
Some are to sit on, some to lean and doze.
Walls we build ourselves, these aren't good,
Walls for privacy, walls that have stood,
So many years through weather foul or fine,
Walls, that are yours, walls that are mine.
Brick by brick they are built to last,
Whether built now or in the past,
They shelter us from so many things,
And shield us from whatever this life brings.
poem by Ernestine Northover
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ideas For Walls
So many things in my head, Ive always had them before
No reason to be upset, theyre just ideas for walls
Now Im standing inside, outside, which is the right side
Im standing, demanding that the nightlife be called the right life
Like putting paint on my feet & walking sideways in rows
My walls could be so complete, complete with patterns of toes
Now Im standing inside, outside, which is the right side
Im standing the left side, right side, which is the right side
Now-ideas
Ideas for walls
Ideas for walls
Ideas for walls
A little m for the mirror, a double u for the wall
To make things perfectly clear, a great big h in the hall
Now Im standing inside, outside, which is the right side
Im standing, demanding that the nightlife be called the right life
Is everybody confused? (no) Im making no sense at all
You want a room with a view you need ideas for walls
Now Im standing inside, outside, which is the right side
Im standing inside, outside, outside, right side
Inside, outside, which is the right side
Now -- ideas
Ideas for walls
Ideas for walls
Ideas for walls
Ideas
Theyre just ideas for walls
Ideas for walls
Ideas for walls
Ideas for walls
Ideas for walls
song performed by by Men Without Hats
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Madona Mia
UNDER green apple-boughs
That never a storm will rouse,
My lady hath her house
Between two bowers;
In either of the twain
Red roses full of rain;
She hath for bondwomen
All kind of flowers.
She hath no handmaid fair
To draw her curled gold hair
Through rings of gold that bear
Her whole hair’s weight;
She hath no maids to stand
Gold-clothed on either hand;
In all the great green land
None is so great.
She hath no more to wear
But one white hood of vair
Drawn over eyes and hair,
Wrought with strange gold,
Made for some great queen’s head,
Some fair great queen since dead;
And one strait gown of red
Against the cold.
Beneath her eyelids deep
Love lying seems asleep,
Love, swift to wake, to weep,
To laugh, to gaze;
Her breasts are like white birds,
And all her gracious words
As water-grass to herds
In the June-days.
To her all dews that fall
And rains are musical;
Her flowers are fed from all,
Her joy from these;
In the deep-feathered firs
Their gift of joy is hers,
In the least breath that stirs
Across the trees.
She grows with greenest leaves,
Ripens with reddest sheaves,
Forgets, remembers, grieves,
And is not sad;
The quiet lands and skies
Leave light upon her eyes;
None knows her, weak or wise,
Or tired or glad.
None knows, none understands,
What flowers are like her hands;
Though you should search all lands
Wherein time grows,
What snows are like her feet,
Though his eyes burn with heat
Through gazing on my sweet,
Yet no man knows.
Only this thing is said;
That white and gold and red,
God’s three chief words, man’s bread
And oil and wine,
Were given her for dowers,
And kingdom of all hours,
And grace of goodly flowers
And various vine.
This is my lady’s praise:
God after many days
Wrought her in unknown ways,
In sunset lands;
This was my lady’s birth;
God gave her might and mirth
And laid his whole sweet earth
Between her hands.
Under deep apple-boughs
My lady hath her house;
She wears upon her brows
The flower thereof;
All saying but what God saith
To her is as vain breath;
She is more strong than death,
Being strong as love.
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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These Walls
If these walls could talk,
I wonder what what would they say
Would they thank me for being painted
Or will they ask me, to wash the paint away.
Would they tell me of the pictures
That once hung upon them their
Pictures that once adorn those walls
Or I wonder would they even care.
Would they speak upon the stories
That was heard within these walls
That no one else even knows about,
That is if the stories these walls could recall.
Was there children laughter all about
Or any secrets heard and being told
I wonder what have they listened to
And I wonder if anyone will ever know.
These walls inside this house
That for years have stood alone
With the stories that was told and heard
While this house had became a home.
The Sadness that they might had seen
And the worries and sorrow that they felt
Maybe they don't want to remember it at all
And maybe they too keep it bottled upon their self.
Were they painted to cover up secrets
Was they battered as to protect someone's lies
Or were they wallpapered to cover up the truth
And did they hear the whispers and the cries.
These walls they are still standing
Through the years of the days and nights
While listening and knowing all done and said
In the darkness and also in the light.
I look at these walls just one last time
As I head home from my walk,
How I wish I knew what they heard and know,
But that is, if these walls could only talk.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Happiness
The great stone Hall is silent
that is now millennia old.
Through the western windows
shines a glorious sun.
It floods the walls and floors,
the tables, chairs and doors,
panelling, pictures, artefacts
and illumines every one
until the wraiths that gather
cry out in their joy,
'Everything is gold!
Whatever is, is gold! '
A majestic cloud
emerges from the southern sea,
slides across the western sky
blotting out the sun.
Light through those western windows
pales to a thin grey day.
It dims the walls and floors,
the tables, chairs and doors,
panelling, pictures, artefacts
pales every one
until the wraiths in the shadows
cry out in dismay,
'Gone is gold, the gold is gone!
All joy has passed away! '
poem by Brian Taylor
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Walls Of Silent
WALLS OF SILENT
What if walls could talk what would they say?
Along the walls they walk
Sputtering words every day
In boardrooms
In school hallways
Hotels walls
And shopping malls
In Elevators
Hospital corridors
Office walls
Tenement halls
And bedroom walls
Some words never to been mention again
Other words that take to the air ways
Walls of silent’s
What would they say…
poem by Paul Klobusicky
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Separated Between Two Walls
between two walls
i find myself in but
i do not tarry, i am,
the resilient wind
and i lift myself up
and see the walls
from a distance.
they say they are
protective of me.
they say they want
to keep me safe
and at bay with what
is right and true.
the walls of fantasy
and the
the walls of reality.
these are not walls
sooner i will make
them myriad openings
exits and entrances
to the house of my
peace and happiness.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If These Walls Could Speak
If these old walls,
If these old walls could speak
Of the things that they remember well,
Stories and faces dearly held,
A couple in love
Livin week to week,
Rooms full of laughter,
If these walls could speak.
If these old halls,
If hallowed halls could talk,
These would have a tale to tell
Of sun goin down and dinner bell,
And children playing at hide and seek
>from floor to rafter,
If these halls could speak.
They would tell you that Im sorry
For bein cold and blind and weak.
They would tell you that its only
That I have a stubborn strreak,
If these walls could speak.
If these old fashioned window panes were eyes,
I guess they would have seen it all--
Each little tear and sigh and footfall,
And every dream that we came to seek
Or followed after,
If these walls could speak.
They would tell you that I owe you
More than I could ever pay.
Heres someone who really loves you;
Dont ever go away.
Thats what these walls would say.
They would tell you that I owe you
More than I could ever pay.
Heres someone who really loves you;
Dont ever go away.
Thats what these walls would say.
Thats what these walls would say.
Thats what these walls would say.
song performed by by Amy Grant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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His Writings On The Wall
when he was writing about
walls
he wrote the words on the walls
and they were arranged
like walls
from wall to wall his description
about the wall was
consistently like a wall
walling in all the walls
around the wall
where he was writing
consistently and
uniformly the word
wall, wall, wall, wall
and then nothing but a train of walls like this
wallwallwallwallwallwallwallwallwallw allwallwallwallwallwallwallwallwallwallwall
of course, he did notn add any smoke from steam engine
neither did he add any children and women and even men riding on the
train of walls
there was no driver even
or wheels
what he stressed was just a wall, a wall train, a wall nothing but a wall
walling him in
but what he really wanted at the end was something that should wall him out
something however that until now he is still trying to figure out
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Any Woman
I am the pillars of the house;
The keystone of the arch am I.
Take me away, and roof and wall
Would fall to ruin me utterly.
I am the fire upon the hearth,
I am the light of the good sun,
I am the heat that warms the earth,
Which else were colder than a stone.
At me the children warm their hands;
I am their light of love alive.
Without me cold the hearthstone stands,
Nor could the precious children thrive.
I am the twist that holds together
The children in its sacred ring,
Their knot of love, from whose close tether
No lost child goes a-wandering.
I am the house from floor to roof,
I deck the walls, the board I spread;
I spin the curtains, warp and woof,
And shake the down to be their bed.
I am their wall against all danger,
Their door against the wind and snow,
Thou Whom a woman laid in a manger,
Take me not till the children grow!
poem by Katharine Tynan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Goldrush
Bless my heart and soul
I've discovered gold
Spread the news around
Get the ship afloat
A rock and roll the boat
Let's get into town
I am living down by the creek
Getting mired in the mud
No liquor for a week
I feel the cold in my blood
Here's a very busy lady
On her knees in the sludge
Well I do believe she's crazy
You know she's working like a drudge
Bless my heart and soul
She's discovered gold
Spread the news around
Get the ship afloat
A rock and roll the boat
And let's get into town
Even though she smelt like a drain
She's an angel to me
Her intentions are plain
And the whiskey is free
Breaking out another bottle
Keep it cool in the dirt
Well it's a water baby heaven
I got the papers in my shirt
Bless my heart and soul
We've discovered gold
Spread the news around
Get the ship afloat
A rock and roll the boat
And let's get into town
Bless my heart and soul
We've discovered gold
Spread the news around
Get the ship afloat
A rock and roll the boat
And let's get into town
You work hard all your life little honey
But you can't afford to save any money
You lay it down you leave the town
To see what you could find
For more than 20 years you're a diggin'
Then you can't believe what you are a pickin'
It's a piece of change just like a mountain range
Whoopee we're gonna lay it down
song performed by by Supertramp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Hollow Nature Of Being
WALL I:
inside an empty room lies an empty box
and in that box is a four walled inside room within-
on each of the four walls is a mirror reflecting
the deep desertion of the next
and distant within each wall is another
echoing & spiraling back into infinite repetition
with nothing or no one except the physical entities
bearing back upon each other.
WALL II:
an empty room in an empty house
the house itself has no physical attributes because it
was built in a barren field-
there are no animals, no trees,
no beings of any kind
roaming around the house whose image cannot be
imagined,
at best, know that this house in fact
“housed” the room in question,
as any house might any room.
WALL III:
such a barren field stretches to all four corners
carrying itself out beyond the periphery
curling back in on the other side,
and walking in any direction will bring one back to the
beginning-
the barren field that reveals the empty house that
encapsulates the empty room is the most integral point of
reference within the endless flat plain of grass.
WALL IV:
endless flat plains of grass flowing out in all directions covering
the circumference of the area around the empty house residing in
the middle of the plain wherein
the inside of the empty house holds the
empty room & in the
room,
the four mirrored walls reveal only the replication of the
others,
spiraling into infinite repetition-
there is no feeling
no sound
no communication of any kind
woven with the thread of human fiber.
poem by Andrew Delapruch
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What The Shutter Said As She Lay By The Fire
In The Farmer's House
I'M glad to lie on a sack of leaves
By a wasted fire and take my ease.
For the wind would strip me bare as a tree
The wind would blow oul’ age upon me,
And I'm dazed with the wind, the rain, and the cold!
If I had only the good red gold
To buy me the comfort of a roof,
And under the thatch the brown of the smoke!
I'd he up in my painted room
Until my hired girl would come;
And when the sun had warmed my walls
I'd rise up in my silks and shawls,
And break my fast beside the fire.
And Fd watch them that had to sweat
And shiver for shelter and what they ate
The farmer digging in the fields,
The beggars going from gate to gate,
The horses striving with their loads,
And all the sights upon the roads.
I'd live my lone without clan nor care,
And none around me to crave a share:
The young have mocking, impudent ways,
And I'd never let them a-nigh my place,
And a child has often a pitiful face.
I'd give the rambling fiddler rest,
And for me he would play his best,
And he'd have something to tell of me
From the Moat of Granard down to the sea!
And, though I'd keep distant, I'd let in
Oul' women who would card and spin,
And clash with me, and I'd hear it said,
'Mor, who used to carry her head
As if she was a lady bred,
Has little enough in her house, they say;
And such a one's child I saw on the way
Scaring crows from a crop, and glad to get
In a warmer house, the bit to eat
Oh, none are safe and none secure,
And it's well for some whose bit is sure!'
I'd never grudge them the weight of their lands
If I had only the good red gold
To huggle between my breast and my hands!
poem by Padraic Colum
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Between Walls Between Walls
walls around us
always walls around us
morning till noon
till night walls always walls between
us i try to inser some words
of consolation between us
all walls rain walls between us
there is no word for us
for it
we, it, we, us, there is nothing
between us
air, between, us, air, air, air,
between us, still walls, walls,
speak, speak
why, why are these walls still walls
between us
i guess, you are dead, then
cogito, eureka,
will i be a happy man then?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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There is no sound sleep as sound as home
In the foreign land where you live
Where the snow is cold and slippery and smooth
You say you cannot sleep
And all alone not feeling safe
In that house made of steel and fortified walls
Here in our country
Where walls are weak where beams are but coconut wood
Where the sun is hotter
Where the dust spread like blanket on the bed
Where the noise is simply intolerable
Where beggars come asking for food
Where poverty and calamities abound
Here in my country I sleep so soundly
Because lady, this is my home this is where my heart is
Because lady, I am safe in this place that I call my own
Because lady, there is no place like home
Where sleep is sleep and will always be sound
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Its Ok
Its ok
Love is only meant for some
Im the rock
The shoulder you can cry on
I keep the walls from falling down
I keep the walls from falling down
I keep the walls from falling down
Ill play it straight
While you laugh and drink and party all night long
Ill designate myself
To be the driver who takes you home
I keep the walls from falling down
I keep the walls from falling down
You can be pretty and tragic
Ill try to keep the walls from falling down
You can be beautiful and fabulous
Ill try to keep the walls from falling down
I cant reach the pain you feel
But Ill try to keep the walls from falling down
If you can hold on
Lose your fear
Ill try to keep the walls from falling down
Falling down
Falling down
Where is your saint
To let you know youre not alone
To bring you peace
Help me be your friend your confidante
And keep the walls from falling down
Keep the walls from falling down
Keep the walls from falling down
song performed by by Tracy Chapman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Walls Of Red Wing
Oh, the age of the inmates
I remember quite freely:
No younger than twelve,
No older n seventeen.
Thrown in like bandits
And cast off like criminals,
Inside the walls,
The walls of red wing.
From the dirty old mess hall
You march to the brick wall,
Too weary to talk
And too tired to sing.
Oh, its all afternoon
You remember your home town,
Inside the walls,
The walls of red wing.
Oh, the gates are cast iron
And the walls are barbed wire.
Stay far from the fence
With the lectricity sting.
And its keep down your head
And stay in your number,
Inside the walls,
The walls of red wing.
Oh, its fare thee well
To the deep hollow dungeon,
Farewell to the boardwalk
That takes you to the screen.
And farewell to the minutes
They threaten you with it,
Inside the walls,
The walls of red wing.
Its many a guard
That stands around smilin,
Holdin his club
Like he was a king.
Hopin to get you
Behind a wood pilin,
Inside the walls,
The walls of red wing.
The night aimed shadows
Through the crossbar windows,
And the wind punched hard
To make the wall-siding sing.
Its many a night I pretended to be a-sleepin,
Inside the walls,
The walls of red wing.
As the rain rattled heavy
On the bunk-house shingles,
And the sounds in the night,
They made my ears ring.
til the keys of the guards
Clicked the tune of the morning,
Inside the walls,
The walls of red wing.
Oh, some of usll end up
In st. cloud prison,
And some of usll wind up
To be lawyers and things,
And some of usll stand up
To meet you on your crossroads,
From inside the walls,
The walls of red wing.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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