Doc Hill
I went up and down the streets
Here and there by day and night,
Through all hours of the night caring for the poor who were sick.
Do you know why?
My wife hated me, my son went to the dogs.
And I turned to the people and poured out my love to them.
Sweet it was to see the crowds about the lawns on the day of my funeral,
And hear them murmur their love and sorrow.
But oh, dear God, my soul trembled -- scarcely able
To hold to the railing of the new life
When I saw Em Stanton behind the oak tree
At the grave,
Hiding herself, and her grief!
poem by Edgar Lee Masters
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Night Funeral in Harlem
Night funeral
In Harlem:
Where did they get
Them two fine cars?
Insurance man, he did not pay--
His insurance lapsed the other day--
Yet they got a satin box
for his head to lay.
Night funeral
In Harlem:
Who was it sent
That wreath of flowers?
Them flowers came
from that poor boy's friends--
They'll want flowers, too,
When they meet their ends.
Night funeral
in Harlem:
Who preached that
Black boy to his grave?
Old preacher man
Preached that boy away--
Charged Five Dollars
His girl friend had to pay.
Night funeral
In Harlem:
When it was all over
And the lid shut on his head
and the organ had done played
and the last prayers been said
and six pallbearers
Carried him out for dead
And off down Lenox Avenue
That long black hearse done sped,
The street light
At his corner
Shined just like a tear--
That boy that they was mournin'
Was so dear, so dear
To them folks that brought the flowers,
To that girl who paid the preacher man--
It was all their tears that made
That poor boy's
Funeral grand.
Night funeral
In Harlem.
poem by Langston Hughes
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A Song
Oh night and sleep,
Ye are so soft and deep,
I am so weary, come ye soon to me.
Oh hours that creep,
With so much time to weep,
I am so tired, can ye no swifter be?
Come, night, anear;
I'll whisper in thine ear
What makes me so unhappy, full of care;
Dear night, I die
For love that all men buy
With tears, and know not it is dark despair.
Dear night, I pray,
How is it that men say
That love is sweet? It is not sweet to me.
For one boy's sake
A poor girl's heart must break;
So sweet, so true, and yet it could not be!
Oh, I loved well,
Such love as none can tell:
It was so true, it could not make him know:
For he was blind,
All light and all unkind:
Oh, had he known, would he have hurt me so?
Oh night and sleep,
Ye are so soft and deep,
I am so weary, come ye soon to me.
Oh hours that creep,
With so much time to weep,
I am so tired, can ye no swifter be?
poem by Archibald Lampman
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To Isa in Heaven
Early, bright, transient, chaste as morning dew,
She sparkled, was exhaled, and went to heaven! — Young.
Where is she now?
Oh! Isa! tell me where thou art?
If death has laid his hand upon thy brow,
Has he not touched my heart?
Has he not laid it in the grave with thine,
And buried all my joys?—Speak! thou art mine!
If thou were dead,
I would not ask thee to reply;
But thou art living—thy dear soul has fled
To heaven, where it can never die!
Then why not come to me? Return—return
And comfort me, for I have much to mourn!
I sigh all day!
I mourn for thee the livelong night!
And when the next night comes, thou art away,
And so is absent my delight!
Oh! as the lone dove for his absent mate,
So is my soul for thee disconsolate!
I long for death—
For any thing—to be with thee!
I did inhale, alas! thy dying breath,
That it might have some power on me
To make me what thou art!—but, thou art dead!
And I am here!—it strengthened me instead!
Joy there is none—
It went into the grave with thee!
And grief, because my spirit is alone,
Is all that comes to comfort me!
The very air I breathe is turned to sighs,
And all mine soul is melting from mine eyes!
I hear, at even,
The liquid carol of birds;
Their music makes me think of thee in heaven,
It is so much like thy sweet words.
The brooklet whispers, as it runs along,
Our first love-story with its liquid tongue.
Wake, Isa! wake!
And come back in this world again!
Oh! come down to me, for my soul's dear sake,
And cure me of this trying pain!
I would give all that earth to man can be,
If thou wert only in this world with me!
Day after day
I seek thee, but thou art not near!
I sit down on thy grave in the cold clay,
And listen for thy soul!—oh! dear!
And when some withered leaf falls from the tree,
I start as if thy soul had spoke to me!
And so it is,
And so it ever more must ever be
To him, who has been robbed of all the bliss
He ever knew, by loving thee!
For misery, in thine absence, is my wife!
What joy had been, hadst thou remained in life!
It is now even;
The birds have sung themselves to sleep;
And all the stars seem coming out of heaven,
As if to look upon me weep!—
Oh! let me not look up to thee in vain,
But come back to me in this world again!
poem by Thomas Holley Chivers (1842)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Lyrics Of Love And Sorrow
I
Love is the light of the world, my dear,
Heigho, but the world is gloomy;
The light has failed and the lamp down hurled,
Leaves only darkness to me.
Love is the light of the world, my dear,
Ah me, but the world is dreary;
The night is down, and my curtain furled
But I cannot sleep, though weary.
Love is the light of the world, my dear,
Alas for a hopeless hoping,
When the flame went out in the breeze that swirled,
And a soul went blindly groping.
II
The light was on the golden sands,
A glimmer on the sea;
My soul spoke clearly to thy soul,
Thy spirit answered me.
Since then the light that gilds the sands,
And glimmers on the sea,
But vainly struggles to reflect
The radiant soul of thee.
III
The sea speaks to me of you
All the day long;
Still as I sit by its side
You are its song.
The sea sings to me of you
Loud on the reef;
Always it moans as it sings,
Voicing my grief.
IV
My dear love died last night;
Shall I clothe her in white?
My passionate love is dead,
Shall I robe her in red?
But nay, she was all untrue,
She shall not go drest in blue;
Still my desolate love was brave,
Unrobed let her go to her grave.
V
There are brilliant heights of sorrow
That only the few may know;
And the lesser woes of the world, like waves,
Break noiselessly, far below.
I hold for my own possessing,
A mount that is lone and still--
The great high place of a hopeless grief,
And I call it my 'Heart-break Hill.'
And once on a winter's midnight
I found its highest crown,
And there in the gloom, my soul and I,
Weeping, we sat us down.
But now when I seek that summit
We are two ghosts that go;
Only two shades of a thing that died,
Once in the long ago.
So I sit me down in the silence,
And say to my soul, 'Be still,'
So the world may not know we died that night,
From weeping on 'Heart-break Hill.'
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Saturday Night Streets
Saturday Night Streets
Cars driving back and forth
People of different colors walking down the streets
laughing
talking
drinking
enj oying the night
The streets are talking to me
These streets have stories
different cars, different colors
I Love these streets
I love the night
I love Saturdays
l think I'm in love with these streets
I'm in love with Saturday night streets
Mon, Tues, Wed, Thurs, Fri, Sun belongs to workers and the sun
Saturday belongs to the night, people and these streets
Saturday Night Streets
poem by Rebecca Succes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dear And Sweet
Dear sweet and loving wife
You give me love and also life
You give me happiness and never strife
Without you my love how could I survive.
You have turned our house into a home
The love we have it is always shown
Together forever in life we’ve been sewn
Never will we ever be sad or alone.
When I am off to work I think about you
As I know there will always be us two
To live without your love I have not a clue
When we sleep at night my soul you soothe.
Dear sweet and loving mother
As I know like you there is no other
You keep me warmth you are my cover
You gave me life and also life to discover.
You kiss me goodnight when I go to sleep
When I am sad you help me not to weep
No steps you said for me are ever to steep
You taught me truth and not deceit.
You taught me honesty and never to lie
Honor and pride you said will be at my side
Because of you I wear a smile at night
As you gave me love and you gave me might.
Dear sweet and loving mistress
Does your husband know you are my misses
For myself you will cheat as you undress
Your children do not know that you never confess.
You come visit me when your family is asleep
You sneak out your house so not to make a peep
As my life and myself is all that you seek
I wonder does anyone know the secrets we do keep.
When your husband is at work you are thinking about me
When your children are at school you are free
Whatever I say or do you will always believe
Hopefully the truth you will never find or see.
Dear mean and hateful woman
You have done again things that you shouldn’t
Though we are all weak and only human
You have done things that any other couldn’t.
You suppose to give your family your very best
So your soul and life would of been blessed
But then you gave your feelings to all the rest
In love and life you should never start another quest.
But in the end of course you will be caught
You lied to everyone and against what you taught
Righteousness and love and truth you never sought
Your body has been sold and your soul has been bought.
Randy L.McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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Come Home, Father!
'Tis The
SONG OF LITTLE MARY,
Standing at the bar-room door
While the shameful midnight revel
Rages wildly as before.
Father, dear father, come home with me now!
The clock in the steeple strikes one;
You said you were coming right home from the shop,
As soon as your day's work was done.
Our fire has gone out our house is all dark
And mother's been watching since tea, --
With poor brother Benny so sick in her arms,
And no one to help her but me. --
Come home! come home! come home! --
Please, father, dear father, come home. --
Hear the sweet voice of the child
Which the night winds repeat as they roam!
Oh who could resist this most plaintive of prayers?
"Please, father, dear father, come home."
Father, dear father, come home with me now!
The clock in the steeple strikes two;
The night has grown colder, and Benny is worse
But he has been calling for you.
Indeed he is worse Ma says he will die,
Perhaps before morning shall dawn; --
And this is the message she sent me to bring
"Come quickly, or he will be gone." --
Come home! come home! come home! --
Please, father, dear father, come home. --
Hear the sweet voice of the child
Which the night winds repeat as they roam!
Oh who could resist this most plaintive of prayers?
"Please, father, dear father, come home."
Father, dear father, come home with me now!
The clock in the steeple strikes three;
The house is so lonely the hours are so long
For poor weeping mother and me.
Yes, we are alone poor Benny is dead,
And gone with the angels of light; --
And these were the very last words that he said
"I want to kiss Papa good night." --
Come home! come home! come home! --
Please, father, dear father, come home. --
Hear the sweet voice of the child
Which the night winds repeat as they roam!
Oh who could resist this most plaintive of prayers?
"Please, father, dear father, come home."
poem by Henry Clay Work
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dear Night
Dear Night,
Again me, paper and a pen
Draw the air of my soul that still flying
Dear Night,
Again me, ipod and Foo Fighters
Sing aloud 'Walking After You'
Dear Night,
Again me, sky and the wind
Paint his face among the stars
Dear Night,
Again me, feelings and thoughts
Try to find the answer who does he love
Dear Night,
Again me, vision and smell
Read his mind underneath the pain
Dear Night,
Again me, loneliness and emptiness
Beyond of his sight and sensitiveness
Dear Night,
Again me, him and us
Around uncertainty situation of impossible LOVE
poem by Ade Renny Dwi Damayanti
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A Late Good Night
My lamp is out, my task is done,
And up the stair with lingering feet
I climb. The staircase clock strikes one.
Good night, my love! good night, my sweet!
My solitary room I gain.
A single star makes incomplete
The blackness of the window pane.
Good night, my love! good night, my sweet!
Dim and more dim its sparkle grows,
And ere my head the pillows meet,
My lids are fain themselves to close.
Good night, my love! good night, my sweet!
My lips no other words can say,
But still they murmur and repeat
To you, who slumber far away,
Good night, my love! good night, my sweet!
poem by Robert Fuller Murray
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Ode to my love, my Wife
Renu, my dear wife
My sweet heart, love of my life
I got you how! Wow! My splendid fate
I can’t believe, this fortune so great
Of your father, you were an ardent fan
But finally of your life, I became your man!
It was worth the wait, whatever I had to strive
To impress you and make you my wife!
Renu, my dear wife
My sweet heart, love of my life
‘Of opposites’ we are pair
Me dark and you very fair
You are organized and meticulous
I am disorganized though spontaneous
My poetic instincts you do admire
But my helping hand in the kitchen, is what you aspire!
Renu, my dear wife
My sweet heart, love of my life
As if I am a kid, me with care you look after
You gave me my sweet daughter
Anagha, our purpose of life, our treasure
Filling our life with joy and laughter
As Success, whatever I have achieved,
To Your Presence in my life, they are ascribed
Renu, my dear wife
My sweet heart, love of my life
I don’t know, whether I could become your Hero
But, without you in my life, I am a big Zero!
In all ups and down of life, you’ve supported me!
Sweet heart, on this wedding anniversary
Instead of dress, gold or diamond jewelry
I gift you, filled with all my love, this poetry!
(Wrote this to gift to my wife! Today is our wedding anniversary!)
21.04.2009
(Love Me Like You Did) Last Night
Last night, last night, last night, you loved me, how you loved me
Oh, you made me love you last night
Oh how you teased me like you did it, when you did it last night
Pleased me like you did it, when you did it last night
You stole my heart away from me last night
Holding you tight, did it mean as much to you as it meant to me, last night
Were you just lonely, was I just a friend?, did you want me only, or did you pretend?
Was it just one night to hold you tight? then make tonight just like last night
Come on and love me like you did it, when you did it last night
Hold me like you did it when you did it last night
I want you to stay and love me all the way
Say sweet things to me like you said last night, hang on so tight
Now it's alright, just like last night I feel so fine now, you are mine now
Yeah, just like last night, yeah kiss me like you did it
When you did it last night, yeah, touch me like you did it
When you did it last night, ah love me like you did it
When you did it last night, last night
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Last Night
Orbison/melson
Last night, last night, last night, you loved me, how you loved me
Oh, you made me love you last night
Oh how you teased me like you did it, when you did it last night
Pleased me like you did it, when you did it last night
You stole my heart away from me last night
Holding you tight, did it mean as much to you as it meant to me, last night
Were you just lonely, was i just a friend?, did you want me only, or did you pretend?
Was it just one night to hold you tight? then make tonight just like last night
Come on and love me like you did it, when you did it last night
Hold me like you did it when you did it last night
I want you to stay and love me all the way
Say sweet things to me like you said last night, hang on so tight
Now it's alright, just like last night i feel so fine now, you are mine now
Yeah, just like last night, yeah kiss me like you did it
When you did it last night, yeah, touch me like you did it
When you did it last night, ah love me like you did it
When you did it last night, last night
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Two Nights
(Suggested by the lives of Napoleon and Josephine.)
I.
ONE night was full of rapture and delight-
Of reunited arms and swooning kisses,
And all the unnamed and unnumbered blisses
Which fond souls find in love of love at night.
Heart beat with heart, and each clung into each
With twining arms that did but loose their hold
To cling still closer; and fond glances told
These truths for which there is no uttered speech.
There was sweet laughter and endearing words,
Made broken by the kiss that could not wait,
And cooing sounds as of dear little birds
That in spring-time love and woo and mate.
And languid sighs that breathed of love's content
And all too soon this night of rapture went.
II.
One night was full of anguish and of pain,
Of nerveless arms and mockery of kisses;
And those caresses where one sick heart misses
The quick response the other cannot feign.
Hands idly clasped and unclasped, and lost hold,
And the averted eyes that turned away,
And in whose depths no love nor longing lay,
The saddest of all truths too plainly told.
There was salt sorrow and the gall of tears,
Some useless words that ended in a moan,
And a dull dread of long unending years
When one must walk forever more alone.
Deep shuddering sighs told more than lips could say;
And the long night of sorrow wore away.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Love Secret
Love has its secrets, joy has its revealings.
How shall I speak of that which love has hid?
If my beloved shall return to greet me,
Deeds shall be done for her none ever did.
My beloved loved me. How shall I reveal it?
We were alone that morning in the street.
She looked down at the ground, and blushed, and trembled.
She stopped me with her eyes when these did meet.
``What wouldst thou, sweet one? What wouldst thou with sorrow,
Thou, the new morning star with me, the night?
What are those flowers thou holdest to thy bosom?
What are the thoughts thou hidest from my sight?''
``Thine are these flowers,'' she said, ``these foolish roses,
And thine the thoughts, if thus it be thy will.
I hold them close for fear that thou shouldst mock me,
I hold them to my heart for fear of ill.''
``Nay, what of ill? 'Tis only age is evil,
Only forgetfulness and grief and pain;
What dost thou know of grief, that thou shouldst fear it?
Mine is the grief who cannot love again.''
She raised her eyes, she looked at me in wonder,
``The ache is here,'' she said, ``by night and day;
I cannot teach my heart to bear its burden,
I cannot turn my silence from its way.''
``Speak to me, child. I am thy wise physician,
A man acquainted with all grief can teach;
There is no sorrow but has joy for sister,
No silence but finds counterpart in speech.''
My beloved laughed. She saw through my dissembling;
She held to me her hand, that I might kiss,
The inside of her hand. 'Twas like a petal
Of her own roses, but more dear than this.
I felt its pulses, like a bird in prison;
``Sweet child,'' I said, ``what wouldst thou I should prove?
I cannot make thee wiser than thy wisdom,
Who knowest all things since thou knowest love.''
How shall I tell it? How shall I reveal it?
I led her by the hand, as thus I said,
Back from the street to where it stood, my dwelling,
And closed the door on where it stood, my bed.
Her laughter stopped. ``Nay, use not thou unkindly.
Thine is the hand to deal or spare the blame;
I dare not be to thee thus uninvited,
Thou dost not know me, hast not learned my name.''
How shall I tell it? How shall I reveal it?
Love in that instant found its latest birth,
``Soul of my soul,'' I cried, ``thy name is Pleasure,
The sweetest thing to love on this sad Earth.''
I held her in my arms, I pressed her fastly.
``Ah, if thou lovedst me indeed,'' she cried.
``I love thee, and I love thee,'' was my answer,
``My sister, my beloved one, my bride!''
Love has its secrets. Joy has its revealings.
I speak of this which love in vain has hid;
If my beloved shall return to greet me,
Deeds shall be done for her none ever did.
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Esther, A Sonnet Sequence: II
Yes, who shall tell the value of our tears,
Whether we wept aright or idly grieved?
There is a tragedy in unloved years,
And in those passionate hours by love deceived,
In lips unkissed and hopes too soon bereaved,
And youth's high courage which no strength could save,
And manhood's web of fate by folly weaved,
And grey--haired grief brought down into the grave.
Who shall distinguish truly and be wise
'Twixt grief and grief, 'twixt night and night? The sun
Has its own sorrow and a voice that cries
Louder than darkness of its joys undone,
And pleads with that exceeding bitter cry,
``I have tasted honey, and behold, I die!''
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sorrow In The Wind
(jean ritchie)
I hear the soft wind sighing
In every bush and tree
The sound of my heart crying
When you are far from me
When were apart, my darlin
Theres sorrow in the wind
When were apart, my darlin
Sweet sorrow in the wind
You leave me in the morning
Your footsteps die away
Tho not a leaf is stirring
I hear the wind all day
When were apart, my darlin
Theres sorrow in the wind
When were apart, my darlin
Sweet sorrow in the wind
They say when love grows older
It dies and fades away
Yet all our life together
One ever brightening day
When were apart, my darlin
Theres sorrow in the wind
When were apart, my darlin
Sweet sorrow in the wind
When were apart, my darlin
Theres sorrow in the wind
When were apart, my darlin
Sweet sorrow in the wind
Sweet sorrow in the wind
song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Day And Night
Day and night i have been waiting for you,
Day and night i have been expecting you;
For there can be no true reconciliation if,
People are not prepared to forgive and forget about the past!
Say it off!
Shed it off! !
Laugh it off! ! !
Well, some people do find it difficult to say, 'I am sorry';
Even when they are at fault!
In the future to come and in with the time to hold on,
For i have chosen the way on the right path;
And going through through tunnels and through the woods,
For my life is like the 'Golden Tree' next to you.
There is something extra for you and i,
But caring and sharing is all that matters a lot!
So come to terms with the past and,
Make room for the future!
For it is like the way the wind blows and,
Like the way that your love flows to my heart;
And i will be there for you always on this love.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Love lost
She was so cruel and capricious making me bury our love
Not in a grave yard under a sluttish tomb stone
But beneath a tall oak tree of a forest dark, wide and alone
Where none can come across or see from above
There will be no memorial days or sad hours
And I shall never visit the tree or put flowers
Yet the mouth I loved so much to kiss and to treat
Was none like so daring and bittersweet
I shall never go to the under tree love grave
For the woods are hostile, dark and cold
My time I shall for new love save
New love, new joy, constrain the rebel heart, forget the old
All day long I shall stay in the sun
Where the wide winds blow and flowers bloom
But oh, I shall cry at night for my sorrow is still undone
When none will know my time of agony and gloom
Copy rights 2010
all rights reserved
Under Pressure
Bah bah bah bah bah bah bah bah
Bah bah bah bah bah bah
Pressure pressing down on me
Under pressure
That burns a building down
Splits a family in two
Puts people on streets
Bah bah bah bah bah bah
Bah bah bah bah bah bah
Thats o-kay!
Its the terror of knowing
What this world is about
Watching some good friends
Screaming let me out
Pray tomorrow takes me higher
Pressure on people
Do do do bah bah bah bah
O-kay
Chippin around
Kick my brains around the floor
These are the days
It never rains it pours
People on streets
People on streets
Its the terror of knowing
What this world is about
Watching some good friends
Screaming let me out
Pray tomorrow takes me higher
People people on streets
Turned away from it all
Like a blind man
Sat on fence but it dont work
Keep coming up with love
But its so slashed and torn
Why why why?
Love love love love
Insanity laughs under pressure were cracking
Cant we give ourselves one more chance?
Why cant we give love one more chance?
Why cant we give love give love give love?
Give love give love give love give love give love
Cause loves such an old fashioned word
And love dares you to care
For people on the edge of the night
And love dares you to change our way
Of caring about ourselves
This is our last dance
This is our last dance
This is ourselves under pressure
Under pressure pressure
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Memorial Day For The War Dead
Memorial day for the war dead. Add now
the grief of all your losses to their grief,
even of a woman that has left you. Mix
sorrow with sorrow, like time-saving history,
which stacks holiday and sacrifice and mourning
on one day for easy, convenient memory.
Oh, sweet world soaked, like bread,
in sweet milk for the terrible toothless God.
"Behind all this some great happiness is hiding."
No use to weep inside and to scream outside.
Behind all this perhaps some great happiness is hiding.
Memorial day. Bitter salt is dressed up
as a little girl with flowers.
The streets are cordoned off with ropes,
for the marching together of the living and the dead.
Children with a grief not their own march slowly,
like stepping over broken glass.
The flautist's mouth will stay like that for many days.
A dead soldier swims above little heads
with the swimming movements of the dead,
with the ancient error the dead have
about the place of the living water.
A flag loses contact with reality and flies off.
A shopwindow is decorated with
dresses of beautiful women, in blue and white.
And everything in three languages:
Hebrew, Arabic, and Death.
A great and royal animal is dying
all through the night under the jasmine
tree with a constant stare at the world.
A man whose son died in the war walks in the street
like a woman with a dead embryo in her womb.
"Behind all this some great happiness is hiding."
poem by Yehuda Amichai
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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