Wallace Ferguson
There at Geneva where Mt. Blanc floated above
The wine-hued lake like a cloud, when a breeze was blown
Out of an empty sky of blue, and the roaring Rhone
Hurried under the bridge through chasms of rock;
And the music along the cafés was part of the splendor
Of dancing water under a torrent of light;
And the purer part of the genius of Jean Rousseau
Was the silent music of all we saw or heard --
There at Geneva, I say, was the rapture less
Because I could not link myself with the I of yore,
When twenty years before I wandered about Spoon River?
Nor remember what I was nor what I felt?
We live in the hour all free of the hours gone by.
Therefore, O soul, if you lose yourself in death,
And wake in some Geneva by some Mt. Blanc,
What do you care if you know not yourself as the you
Who lived and loved in a little corner of earth
Known as Spoon River ages and ages vanished?
poem by Edgar Lee Masters
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Related quotes
Goin Down Geneva
Goin down geneva, give me a helping hand
Im goin down geneva, give me a helping hand
Its not easy baby, living on the exile plan
Down on the bottom, down to my new pair of shoes
Down on the bottom, down to my new pair of shoes
Im down by the lakeside, thinking bout my baby blue
Last night I played a gig in salzburg, outside in the pouring rain
Last night I played a gig in salzburg, outside in the pouring rain
Flew from there to montreux and my heart was filled with pain
Look out my window, back at the way things are
Look out my window pane, back at the way things are
Just wonder how, how did things ever get this far
Vince taylor used to live here, nobodys ever heard of him
Vince taylor used to live here, but nobodys heard of him, aint that a shame
Just who he was, just where he fits in
He was goin down geneva. give him helping hand
He was goin down geneva, give him helping hand
It wasnt easy living on the exile plan
Vince taylor used to live here, nobodys even heard of him
Vince, vince taylor lives here, nobodys even heard of him
Just who he was, just where he fits in
Just who he was, just where he fits in
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Walter Simmons
My parents thought that I would be
As great as Edison or greater:
For as a boy I made balloons
And wondrous kites and toys with clocks
And little engines with tracks to run on
And telephones of cans and thread.
I played the cornet and painted pictures,
Modeled in clay and took the part
Of the villain in the "Octoroon."
But then at twenty-one I married
And had to live, and so, to live
I learned the trade of making watches
And kept the jewelry store on the square,
Thinking, thinking, thinking, thinking,—
Not of business, but of the engine
I studied the calculus to build.
And all Spoon River watched and waited
To see it work, but it never worked.
And a few kind souls believed my genius
Was somehow hampered by the store.
It wasn't true. The truth was this:
I didn't have the brains.
poem by Edgar Lee Masters from Spoon River Anthology (1916)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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A Silent River Part2
Sunday is a holiday
I'do again
I'makes again
The memories of the silent river
I'come again
To remember
I'have ever love and miss
Here in the silent river, silent so silence
The memories of the silent river
I'felt his love again in this river
I'felt his longing again in this river
I'felt his kindly again in this river
And i'see again his softly face in the water
In this silent river, silent so silence
The silent river
Makes me remember
I'miss again
the silent river
Makes me to get so many things
Sitting nearby silent river
Come to me the lonely
Come to me the long yearning
Come to me the tears
Come to me the rain
The silent river keep my memories good
In the silent river, silent so silence
Save me now, from all the dejected
To spin around all back
This silence is geeting on my nerves
Were i'am so afraid
You were to be lost in thought
And all was lost to me
Here in the silent river, silent so silence
Rock And Roll Fantasy
Hey, yeah.
Here come the jesters, one, two, three.
It's all part of my fantasy,
I love the music and I love to see
the crowd,
Dancing in the aisles and singing out loud, yeah.
Here come the dancers one by one,
Your mamas calling but you're having fun
You'll find you're dancing on a number nine cloud
Put your hands together and sing
it out loud
Its all part of my rock 'n' roll
fantasy, yeah.
Its all part of my rock 'n' roll
dream, yeah.
It's all part of my rock 'n' roll fantasy.
It's all part of my rock 'n' roll
dream.
Put out the spot lights one and all
And let the feeling get down to
your soul
The music's so loud you can here the sound
Reaching for the sky churning up the ground
It's all part of my rock 'n' roll fantasy.
Its all part of my rock 'n' roll dream, oh, yeah.
It's all part of my rock 'n' roll fantasy.
Its all part of my rock 'n' roll dream, yeah, yeah.
Fantasy, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.
Fantasy, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.
song performed by by Bad Company
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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After the outbreak of war, in April 1940, we left Geneva with our three children aged 4 years, 2 years and 2 weeks only to become part of the disordered refugee crowds fleeing across France from the German army.
quote by James Meade
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Take Me Back
Ive been walking by the river
Ive been walking down by the water
Ive been walking down by the river
Ive been feeling so sad and blue
Ive been thinking, Ive been thinking, Ive been thinking,
Ive been thinking, Ive been thinking, Ive been thinking,
Ah theres so much suffering, and its
Too much confusion, too much, too much confusion in the world
Take me back, take me back, take me back
Take me way back, take me way back, take me way back
Take me way back, take me way back, take me way back
Take me way back, take me way back, ah!
Take me way, way, way, way, way, way, way back, huh!
Help me un.....help me understand
Take me, do you remember the time darlin
When everything made more sense in the world (yeah)
Oh I remember, I remember
When life made more sense
Ah, ah, take me back, take me back, take me back, take me back
Take me back, take me back, take me back, take me back
Take me back (woah) to when the world made more sense
Well theres too much suffering and confusion
And Im walking down by the river
Oh, let me understand religion
Way, way back, way back
When you walked, in a green field, in a green meadow
Down an avenue of trees
On a, on a golden summer
And the sky was blue
And you didnt have no worries, you didnt have no care
You were walking in a green field
In a meadow, through the buttercups, in the summertime
And you looked way out over, way out
Way out over the city and the water
And it feels so good, and it feels so good
And you keep on walking
And the music on the radio, and the music on the radio
Has so much soul, has so much soul
And you listen, in the nightime
While were still and quiet
And you look out on the water
And the big ships, and the big boats
Came on sailing by, by, by, by
And you felt so good, and I felt so good
I felt I wanna blow my harmonica
Take me back, there, take me way back there
Take me back, take me back, take me back
Take me way, way, way back, way back
To when, when I understood
When I understood the light, when I understood the light
In the golden afternoon, in the golden afternoon
In the golden afternoon, in the golden afternoon
In the golden afternoon when we sat and listened to sonny boy blow
In the golden afternoon when
We sat and let sonny boy, blow, blow his harp
Take me back, take me back, take me back
Take me way, way, way, way, way, way, way
Back when i, when I understood, when I understood, yeah
Oh, ah, take me way back, when, when, when, when, when, when
When, when, when, when, when, when, when
I was walking down the
Walking down the street and
It didnt matter
'cause everything felt, everything felt, everything felt
Everything felt, everything felt, everything felt, everything felt
Everything felt, everything felt, everything felt so right, ha
And so good
Everything felt, so right, and so good
Everything felt, so right, and so good
Everything felt, so right, and so good, ah
Everything felt, so right, and so good
Everything felt, so right, and so good, so good
In the eternal now, in the eternal moment
In the eternal now, in the eternal moment
In the eternal now
Everything felt so good, so good, so good, so good, so good
And so right, so right, so right, just
So good, so right, so right, in the eternal
In the eternal moment, in the eternal moment
In the eternal moment, in the eternal moment
When you lived, when you lived
When you lived, in the light
When you lived in the grace
In the grace, in grace
When you lived in the light
In the light, in the grace
And the blessing.
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To The River Arve
Not from the sands or cloven rocks,
Thou rapid Arve! thy waters flow;
Nor earth, within her bosom, locks
Thy dark unfathomed wells below.
Thy springs are in the cloud, thy stream
Begins to move and murmur first
Where ice-peaks feel the noonday beam,
Or rain-storms on the glacier burst.
Born where the thunder and the blast,
And morning's earliest light are born,
Thou rushest swoln, and loud, and fast,
By these low homes, as if in scorn:
Yet humbler springs yield purer waves;
And brighter, glassier streams than thine,
Sent up from earth's unlighted caves,
With heaven's own beam and image shine.
Yet stay; for here are flowers and trees;
Warm rays on cottage roofs are here,
And laugh of girls, and hum of bees--
Here linger till thy waves are clear.
Thou heedest not--thou hastest on;
From steep to steep thy torrent falls,
Till, mingling with the mighty Rhone,
It rests beneath Geneva's walls.
Rush on--but were there one with me
That loved me, I would light my hearth
Here, where with God's own majesty
Are touched the features of the earth.
By these old peaks, white, high, and vast,
Still rising as the tempests beat,
Here would I dwell, and sleep, at last,
Among the blossoms at their feet.
poem by William Cullen Bryant
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Archibald Higbie
I loathed you, Spoon River. I tried to rise above you,
I was ashamed of you. I despised you
As the place of my nativity.
And there in Rome, among the artists,
Speaking Italian, speaking French,
I seemed to myself at times to be free
Of every trace of my origin.
I seemed to be reaching the heights of art
And to breathe the air that the masters breathed,
And to see the world with their eyes.
But still they'd pass my work and say:
"What are you driving at, my friend?
Sometimes the face looks like Apollo's
At others it has a trace of Lincoln's."
There was no culture, you know, in Spoon River,
And I burned with shame and held my peace.
And what could I do, all covered over
And weighted down with western soil,
Except aspire, and pray for another
Birth in the world, with all of Spoon River
Rooted out of my soul?
poem by Edgar Lee Masters
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mabel Osborne
Your red blossoms amid green leaves
Are drooping, beautiful geranium!
But you do not ask for water.
You cannot speak! You do not need to speak --
Everyone knows that you are dying of thirst,
Yet they do not bring water!
They pass on, saying:
"The geranium wants water."
And I, who had happiness to share
And longed to share your happiness;
I who loved you, Spoon River,
And craved your love,
Withered before your eyes, Spoon River --
Thirsting, thirsting,
Voiceless from chasteness of soul to ask you for love,
You who knew and saw me perish before you,
Like this geranium which someone has planted over me,
And left to die.
poem by Edgar Lee Masters
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Smoke On The Water
We all came out to montreux
On the lake geneva shoreline
To make records with a mobile
We didnt have much time
Frank zappa and the mothers
Were at the best place around
But some stupid with a flare gun
Burned the place to the ground
Smoke on the water, fire in the sky
They burned down the gambling house
It died with an awful sound
Funky claude was running in and out
Pulling kids out the ground
When it all was over
We had to find another place
But swiss time was running out
It seemed that we would lose the race
Smoke on the water, fire in the sky
We ended up at the grand hotel
It was empty cold and bare
But with the rolling truck stones thing just outside
Making our music there
With a few red lights and a few old beds
We make a place to sweat
No matter what we get out of this
I know well never forget
Smoke on the water, fire in the sky
song performed by by Deep Purple
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Spoonful
By willie dickson
Could be spoonful of diamonds
Could be spoonful of gold
But I want a spoon ot your precious love
To satisfy my soul
Chorus
Men lies about it
Some are wild about it
Some dies without it
Everythings right about spoonful
That spoon,that spoon,that spoonful
That spoon,that spoon,that spoonful
Could be spoonful of coffee
Could be spoonful of tea
But I want a spoon of your precious love
Thats good enough for me
Chorus
Men lies about it
Some are wild about it
Some dies without it
Everythings right about spoonful
That spoon,that spoon,that spoonful
That spoon,that spoon,that spoonful
.
Could be a spoonful of water
Searching from the desert sand
But just a spoon of that fortifies
Saved you from another man
Chorus
Men lies about it
Some are wild about it
Some dies without it
Everythings right about spoonful
That spoon,that spoon,that spoonful
That spoon,that spoon,that spoonful
song performed by by Allman Brothers Band
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Will you remember me?
Take away every thing
The light of the moon
The rain of the cloud
The stars from the sky
The green of the hill
The music of the river
The roaring of the ocean
One by one the whole earth
Just give me a little place in your heart
And remember me when I will depart.
poem by Abdul Wahab
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Spoonful
By willie dixon
Could fill spoons full of diamonds,
Could fill spoons full of gold.
Just a little spoon of your precious love
Will satisfy my soul.
Men lies about it.
Some of them cries about it.
Some of them dies about it.
Everythings a-fightin about the spoonful.
That spoon, that spoon, that spoonful.
That spoon, that spoon, that spoonful.
That spoon, that spoon, that spoonful.
That spoon, that spoon, that spoonful.
Could fill spoons full of coffee,
Could fill spoons full of tea.
Just a little spoon of your precious love;
Is that enough for me?
Chorus
Could fill spoons full of water,
Save them from the desert sands.
But a little spoon of your forty-five
Saved you from another man.
Chorus
Cats squirrel (traditional)
(instrumental)
song performed by by Cream
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ezra Bartlett
A chaplain in the army,
A chaplain in the prisons,
An exhorter in Spoon River,
Drunk with divinity, Spoon River --
Yet bringing poor Eliza Johnson to shame,
And myself to scorn and wretchedness.
But why will you never see that love of women,
And even love of wine,
Are the stimulants by which the soul, hungering for divinity,
Reaches the ecstatic vision
And sees the celestial outposts?
Only after many trials for strength,
Only when all stimulants fail,
Does the aspiring soul
By its own sheer power
Find the divine
By resting upon itself.
poem by Edgar Lee Masters
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Spoonful
By willie dixon
Could fill spoons full of diamonds,
Could fill spoons full of gold.
Just a little spoon of your precious love
Will satisfy my soul.
Men lies about it.
Some of them cries about it.
Some of them dies about it.
Everythings a-fightin about the spoonful.
That spoon, that spoon, that spoonful.
That spoon, that spoon, that spoonful.
That spoon, that spoon, that spoonful.
That spoon, that spoon, that spoonful.
Could fill spoons full of coffee,
Could fill spoons full of tea.
Just a little spoon of your precious love;
Is that enough for me?
Chorus
Could fill spoons full of water,
Save them from the desert sands.
But a little spoon of your forty-five
Saved you from another man.
Chorus
song performed by by Eric Clapton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Music, Dance And Song
Without song and dance and music how boring life would be
From the cares of life these three can set the heart free
The music inspires people to dance and song
And you with the sad face you can sing along,
Music, song and dance cross the cultural divide
These three loved by billions and performed World-wide
They soothe the savage breast and people unite
And open the soul windows to allow in light,
Song and dance and music they are part of life
On Valentine's day the man sings to his wife
And people have been dancing for thousands of years
And music can stir the feelings to laughter and tears
And though the Seasons have come and the Seasons have gone
Music, dance and song will forever live on.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dancing River
Accompany me and listen to the music of the singing, dancing river rushing on its way to the rocky ridge.
Feel the cool spray of the river shower as it tumbles over the jagged rocks of the falls.
A river that travels constantly until it takes a quiet pause to form its delightful winter art during the icy chill.
Cold that is only temporary as the water waits for the dancing journey that resumes when the warm days begin and the river music starts again.
poem by Carol Pelletier
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The River
Last Sunday
I spent a whole day
with a beautiful river
trying to feel close
to each being, each thing,
even to become one with everything
that surrounded me.
In some way,
I learned from the natural
flow of water
what it means not to look back.
I should remember that river
every time I need to forget the past.
And it helps me to not mind much the now...
Why? Well don't you see how
"Now" is going into the Past fast?
So, the river taught me to aim forward.
It may last.
I tried to follow it
with my eyes towards the horizon.
And maybe there is where
River called my soul.
I believe I had the feeling
of sweet water loving me
more than anybody else
(as if I'd ever be loved much, lol.
So I have learned never to ask for love.
For my soul, that may be
as shameful as begging for money) .
But I have thanked the river
with my entire heart
for letting me in,
for washing my soul clean
and I gave it all the love
I could gather,
the river loved me back,
so much that "it"
(calling so because
of my indecision
of calling a he or a she)
almost let me to become one with.
I felt no more sadness
nor earthly pain
or hunger for eyes
to watch me dearly,
for arms to hug me kindly,
for smiles as gifts for me.
My selfishness stopped…
I had everything flowing,
I was melted into
zillion of water drops running
with the river, gliding
into the horizon…
For a moment
I believed that's it!
The horizon!
If you ever feel unloved
go to a river,
discharge your pains
and watch how it becomes
The horizon
... Feel you are one
with the river
and your going forward
no matter what.
To a place
where everything
is equally loved
and cared for.
I can only suppose now,
human could touch the horizon,
I know I can be the horizon,
are we the horizon?
Or maybe only a river
touching the horizon...
A river of love...
could I ever hope to be it?
For each creature,
each form of life
to drink me,
so I could be part of them,
and then them,
to be part of me
totally free
to walk or swim
with all rivers
into the sea
our Mother.
Mother to sing us lullabies
to hold from
small spark of stars...
Then scattered away
for another moment
of connection...
Full awareness.
poem by Elena Sandu
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mister Rock Of Ages
Mister rock of ages you got time on your hands
Got no worries, got no plans
Bless my soul now youre doin fine
You aint got no axe to grind
Rock of ages tell me where does it stand
Are we bound for the promised land
Bless my soul, I aint ready to die
And my future is in your hands
Mister rock of ages youve been goin on strong
Since time began, til time is done
And so the tide shall run
Mister rock of ages tell me what do you see
Are we bound for eternity
Bless my soul, baby youre doin fine
You aint got no axe to grind
Rock of ages youve got nothing to hide
Got no ego, got no pride
Bless my soul, let me do what I can
For my future is in your hands
Mister rock of ages, the lord of my lease
In times of toil and times of peace
Until my song shall cease
Mister rock of ages, Im a part of you now
I am yours, you belong to be
Bless my soul, let me do what I can
For my future is in your hands
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Free River
Free River flow, Free River
so cold, Free River
you’re getting old.
Free River don’t cry, Free River
you’ve run dry.
I still see you through my youth’s eyes.
Free River you told no lies, Free River
your path has been made, Free River
all things change.
Free River you made it to the sea.
The friends I swam with once
are now gone, left only me.
Free River you’re worth more than gold, Free River
I've grown old.
I’ve lived by you my whole life and
I’ve left my seed through my wife, Free River
I lie at your shore; now dry,
Free River it’s my time to die.
poem by Patrick Dumas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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