Sleeping on the Ceiling
It is so peaceful on the ceiling!
It is the Place de la Concorde.
The little crystal chandelier
is off, the fountain is in the dark.
Not a soul is in the park.
Below, where the wallpaper is peeling,
the Jardin des Plantes has locked its gates.
Those photographs are animals.
The mighty flowers and foliage rustle;
under the leaves the insects tunnel.
We must go under the wallpaper
to meet the insect-gladiator,
to battle with a net and trident,
and leave the fountain and the square
But oh, that we could sleep up there...
poem by Elizabeth Bishop
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Fountain Of Filth
There it was
Just like old faithful
The eternal fountain of filthi
I took a walk straight out of town
But then I stopped and took my time for pleasure
I was alone, I looked around
I heard a voice 50 I buckled for safety
And there it was down on the ground
A pool of sound that showed my own reflection
In a fountain of filth
Eternal fountain of filth
I tried to run I couldnt move
Frozen solid while the thoughts of men
Attacked me
Out of my head the fountain shot
And drowned me in a serum that I couldnt
Put a stop to
It was me myself and I locked in a struggle
With the talking head below me
In a fountain of filth
Eternal fountain of filth
I got a hunger that makes me say things
I got a hunger that makes me do things
I got a hunger that makes me want things
Im just a victim of filth
Nowhere are we safe
From the power of
From the reach of
From the appeal of
The eternal fountain of filth
song performed by by Devo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Paradise Valley
can't think straight my mind is covered with clouds
no doubt what I'm talking about;
I've never seen a place like this I miss no bliss
how could I ever forget how it feels, how it heals,
my wound, my blood, whatever pain my soul has got
these waters so clear
near and far all I can hear
rustle of leaves and insects hummin on trees
no place like this - no place like this
paradise valley
the sun reflects some billion glitters of water
direct in my face but I can't take my eyes of this place
so peaceful, beautiful, it flows all into one
meadows, mountains, I, the sky
so close I can never feel to gods own miracle
and then I see, I see that eagle fly
no place like this - no place like this
paradise valley
song performed by by H-BlockX
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Licia Sonnets 27
The crystal stream wherein my love did swim,
Melted in tears as partners of my woe;
Her shine was such as did the fountain dim,
The pearl-like fountain whiter than the snow;
Then like perfume, resolvéd with a heat,
The fountain smoked, as if it thought to burn;
A wonder strange to see the cold so great,
And yet the fountain into smoke to turn.
I searched the cause, and found it to be this:
She touched the water, and it burned with love.
Now by her means it purebased hath that bliss,
Which all diseases quickly can remove.
Then if by you these streams thus blesse'd be,
Sweet, grant me love, and be not worse to me.
poem by Giles Fletcher The Elder
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The Poet Tree
Rustle, little leaves above, rustle in the breeze...
Rustle, little leaves of love, rustle mid God's peace!
Rustle, every night and day, rustle every hour...
Rustle, rustle, come what may, rustle mid God's power!
Rustle, for then wise words are formed,
Great expectations made!
Through such as these, men's hearts are warmed
And children's prayers are prayed!
Rustle upon the Poet Tree,
Above the poets' ears,
So they may learn each melody,
These God-picked volunteers...
Rustle sweetly, and gently on,
Persist from age to age -
Let all God's poets write upon
Their separate nearby page...
Rustle until all humans die
And no more poets live!
Until no soul would question, 'Why? '
And there's no cause to give!
Rustle until God tells you stop,
'Dear friends, at last, be free...
'Tis time for you to fall, to drop...
Beneath the Poet Tree...
I've loved each poem, every one...
And Jesus loved them, too!
You've blessed the world! Your task is done!
Your rustle days are through...'
poem by Denis Martindale
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Horace II, 13.
O fountain of Blandusia,
Whence crystal waters flow,
With garlands gay and wine I'll pay
The sacrifice I owe;
A sportive kid with budding horns
I have, whose crimson blood
Anon shall die and sanctify
Thy cool and babbling flood.
O fountain of Blandusia,
The dogstar's hateful spell
No evil brings unto the springs
That from thy bosom well;
Here oxen, wearied by the plow,
The roving cattle here,
Hasten in quest of certain rest
And quaff thy gracious cheer.
O fountain of Blandusia,
Ennobled shalt thou be,
For I shall sing the joys that spring
Beneath your ilex tree;
Yes, fountain of Blandusia,
Posterity shall know
The cooling brooks that from thy nooks
Singing and dancing go!
poem by Eugene Field
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Horace iii. 13
O fountain of Bandusia,
Whence crystal waters flow,
With garlands gay and wine I'll pay
The sacrifice I owe;
A sportive kid with budding horns
I have, whose crimson blood
Anon shall dye and sanctify
Thy cool and babbling flood.
O fountain of Bandusia,
The dog-star's hateful spell
No evil brings unto the springs
That from thy bosom well;
Here oxen, wearied by the plough,
The roving cattle here,
Hasten in quest of certain rest
And quaff thy gracious cheer.
O fountain of Bandusia,
Ennobled shalt thou be,
For I shall sing the joys that spring
Beneath yon ilex-tree;
Yes, fountain of Bandusia,
Posterity shall know
The cooling brooks that from thy nooks
Singing and dancing go!
poem by Eugene Field
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To The Fountain Of Bandusia
O fountain of Bandusia!
Whence crystal waters flow,
With garlands gay and wine I'll pay
The sacrifice I owe;
A sportive kid with budding horns
I have, whose crimson blood
Anon shall dye and sanctify
Thy cool and babbling flood.
O fountain of Bandusia!
The Dog-star's hateful spell
No evil brings into the springs
That from thy bosom well;
Here oxen, wearied by the plow,
The roving cattle here
Hasten in quest of certain rest,
And quaff thy gracious cheer.
O fountain of Bandusia!
Ennobled shalt thou be,
For I shall sing the joys that spring
Beneath yon ilex-tree.
Yes, fountain of Bandusia,
Posterity shall know
The cooling brooks that from thy nooks
Singing and dancing go.
poem by Eugene Field
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The Lake, The Fountain
by the lake so still so calm
sky-blue cloud-white
more sky than water this autumn day
the air so still above
there a tree leans over the water
as if in thanks
and here a gathering of stones
awaits the offhand lapping of the wavelets
bringing out the many colours of the stones
that remember mountains edging the horizon
with light and shadow through the day
over there a fountain plashes over worn carved stone
fed by a mountain waterfall wild fountain tamed
throwing up a million new-mined diamonds
droplets sparkling like a chandelier
the sun catches turning air and water
into unceasing dance of somehow joy
the still lake the dancing fountain
telling with water two stories
stillness in joy
joy in stillness
as two white-robed nuns who whisper laughing
laughing whisper
in the cool of the evening
beside the fountain
before prayer
and holy silence
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Rivers
In dreams we see the magical flight,
Of crystal waves flying free,
To where the glass of waters meet,
Cruise in a dream upon the sea.
Darkness split the billowing floods,
Flung out brooks into mighty rivers,
To wash the steps down the slopes,
Into slippery streams of tributaries.
Rivers of water run down our eyes,
And let fountain disperse into tears,
In search we find the painful wishes,
Define the sum of all our fears.
The rush of tears we cannot control,
Memories enter the draining basin,
Sorrows like rivers meanders in our soul,
Feelings poured into floodplain.
We heard their voices from the deep,
Soul of our soul where we cannot reach,
The cry which leaves the darken void asleep,
In lonely shadow seen on the beach.
Together we stand, amidst the defiant roar,
And souls that lie at ease deep beneath,
Sleep in tragic tombs amidst the surfing water,
And spirits sail on to the safest harbour.
poem by Gerry Legister
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When The Gloom Is On The Glen
When the moonlight's on the mountain
And the gloom is on the glen,
At the cross beside the fountain
There is one will meet thee then.
At the cross beside the fountain;
Yes, the cross beside the fountain,
There is one will meet thee then!
I have braved, since first we met, love,
Many a danger in my course;
But I never can forget, love,
That dear fountain, that old cross,
Where, her mantle shrouded o'er her—
For the winds were chilly then—
First I met my Leonora,
When the gloom was on the glen.
Many a clime I've ranged since then, love,
Many a land I've wandered o'er;
But a valley like that glen, love,
Half so dear I never sor!
Ne'er saw maiden fairer, coyer,
Than wert thou, my true love, when
In the gloaming first I saw yer,
In the gloaming of the glen!
poem by William Makepeace Thackeray
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Fountain Of Love
(words & music by giant - lewis)
One thought of you,
My heart begins churning
I feel return
To a fountain of love
My lips and eyes,
They ache to be near you
To hold you here
In my fountain of love
Never be blue
Should your world start sinking
Just come and drink
From my fountain of love
Well build a new world off
On a high mountain
Well live
On our fountain of love
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Brother’s Fountain
He died last year about this time
I still miss him every day
I think about him all the time
For my brother’s gone away
I have the fountain he once had
There’s a special place in my yard
Surrounded by his favorite Roses
They are beautifully standing guard
I also have in this honored spot
A park bench so I can hear
The trickle of water down the rocks
A sound that is oh, so dear
It brings back so many memories
All the years when we were children
It’s like spending time with him again
Listening to my brother’s fountain!
poem by Marilyn Lott
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Like A Fountain Of Water
Like a fountain of water
Kissing you throughout
You will like the latter
What it is all about.
Like a fountain of water
Flowing endlessly
Like a waterfall in a far away site
What is its whereabouts?
Like a fountain of water
I dream of you
Forever flowing in my mind
A hand touching my heart.
Like a fountain of water
Expunging the errs in my life
Waiting for fate to strike
It all changes my mind.
poem by Georgia Leana Benedictos
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Lying In The Park
On the green grass
And a blue sky
Peace and sunshine
Peace and sunshine
Soon,
Soon Im going bye ? ? ?
Now I just want ? ? ? city
Lookin for the park
Lying down in the park
Lying down in the park
Yeah yeah yeah
See the momma
Down walking the dogs
Down by the fountains
Down by the fountains
Child, child
Eating sandwich and sweets
And your sitting by my fountain
Cooling my feet
In the park
Just before dark
Birds sing so smooth
But the park shut soon
What we going to do
Fine we gonna have to move
But Ill see you tomorrow
Lying down in the park
Lying down in the park
Lying down in the park
Yeah yeah yeah
Feel the warm breeze
Cool by ? ? ?
Seen my good friend
Seen my good friend
So, so
In the afternoon
And we take us for your city ? ? ?
Lookin for the park
Lying down in the park
Lying down in the park
Lying down in the park baby
See that young girl
There she goes man
See that rich bum
The old men playing chess
See that young girl
With that flower dress
See that young girl
With the flower dress
Well soon Im going bye
Now I just might move on
Looking for the park
Lying down in the park
Lying down in the park
Lying down in the park baby
Ill be there
Ill meet you there
Oh baby
Yeah
song performed by by G. Love & Special Sauce
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Begged God for My Life
I cursed the birds
Their droppings soiled my clothes
I cursed the animals
Their droppings soiled my feet
While walking on the beach
I cursed the insects
For eating flowers in my garden
I took a gun
Killed the birds and the animals
Sprayed deadly poison
On the the insects
I was feeling happy
As if I had conquered the world
I heard god’s voice
What should I do with you my son?
You soiled my world
By killing my
Birds, insects and animals
For your greed and lust
I begged god for my life
Promised him to
Treat man, animals alike
Preserve his world
With all my might
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
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Daily Routine
Every evening at 5.09
he leaves the office,
takes the streetcar
into town,
goes for a stroll
down to the park
by the canal,
there he sits
on the bench nearest
the ornate water fountain;
He dreams,
of a lost childhood
long summers ago
by the sea,
days filled with singing,
laughing and
crying;
Crying now,
the little girl
by the fountain
who has lost her way,
golden hair, eyes of grey,
reflected in his thick lenses;
As he watches her
he dreams,
of long summers ago,
a childhood by the sea
filled with laughing
and crying;
now in the park
he lies beneath a summer sky,
side by side with
the golden girl
and
she lies
very still.
poem by Louis Kasatkin
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The Fountain of Tears
If you go over desert and mountain,
Far into the country of Sorrow,
To-day and to-night and to-morrow,
And maybe for months and for years;
You shall come with a heart that is bursting
For trouble and toiling and thirsting,
You shall certainly come to the fountain
At length,—to the Fountain of Tears.
Very peaceful the place is, and solely
For piteous lamenting and sighing,
And those who come living or dying
Alike from their hopes and their fears;
Full of cypress-like shadows the place is,
And statues that cover their faces:
But out of the gloom springs the holy
And beautiful Fountain of Tears.
And it flows and it flows with a motion
So gentle and lovely and listless,
And murmurs a tune so resistless
To him who hath suffer'd and hears—
You shall surely—without a word spoken,
Kneel down there and know your heart broken,
And yield to the long-curb'd emotion
That day by the Fountain of Tears.
For it grows and it grows, as though leaping
Up higher the more one is thinking;
And ever its tunes go on sinking
More poignantly into the ears:
Yea, so blessèd and good seems that fountain,
Reach'd after dry desert and mountain,
You shall fall down at length in your weeping
And bathe your sad face in the tears.
Then alas! while you lie there a season
And sob between living and dying,
And give up the land you were trying
To find 'mid your hopes and your fears;
—O the world shall come up and pass o'er you,
Strong men shall not stay to care for you,
Nor wonder indeed for what reason
Your way should seem harder than theirs.
But perhaps, while you lie, never lifting
Your cheek from the wet leaves it presses,
Nor caring to raise your wet tresses
And look how the cold world appears—
O perhaps the mere silences round you—
All things in that place Grief hath found you—
Yea, e'en to the clouds o'er you drifting,
May soothe you somewhat through your tears.
You may feel, when a falling leaf brushes
Your face, as though some one had kiss'd you,
Or think at least some one who miss'd you
Had sent you a thought,—if that cheers;
Or a bird's little song, faint and broken,
May pass for a tender word spoken:
—Enough, while around you there rushes
That life-drowning torrent of tears.
And the tears shall flow faster and faster,
Brim over and baffle resistance,
And roll down blear'd roads to each distance
Of past desolation and years;
Till they cover the place of each sorrow,
And leave you no past and no morrow:
For what man is able to master
And stem the great Fountain of Tears?
But the floods and the tears meet and gather;
The sound of them all grows like thunder:
—O into what bosom, I wonder,
Is pour'd the whole sorrow of years?
For Eternity only seems keeping
Account of the great human weeping:
May God, then, the Maker and Father—
May He find a place for the tears!
poem by Arthur William Edgar O'Shaughnessy
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Willow
I want to be the peaceful willow.
Still.
I can't see it today.
There is no peace today.
Where is my soul in the tree?
It has been taken from me.
What took my purity?
What caused this pain?
I can't see my way free today,
Can't find the tunnel to the end.
I am beyond your help now,
Beyond your love.
Where is my willow tree?
Peaceful, Still.
Where is my place under its leaves?
Where is my friend, where is he?
I am beyond your reach now,
Beyond your love.
How could you find me so far beneath the ground?
I've been buried alive.
Come peaceful willow,
Show me your roots.
I will follow them to the sky.
poem by Bridie Latona
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Fountain Of Sorrow
Looking through some photographs I found inside a drawer
I was taken by a photograph of you
There were one or two I know that you would have liked a little more
But they didnt show your spirit quite as true
You were turning round to see who was behind you
And I took your childish laughter by surprise
And at the moment that my camera happened to find you
There was just a trace of sorrow in your eyes
Now the things that I remember seem so distant and so small
Though it hasnt really been that long a time
What I was seeing wasnt what was happening at all
Although for a while, our path did seem to climb
But when you see through loves illusions, there lies the danger
And your perfect lover just looks like a perfect fool
So you go running off in search of a perfect stranger
While the loneliness seems to spring from your life
Like a fountain from a pool
Fountain of sorrow, fountain of light
Youve known that hollow sound of your own steps in flight
Youve had to hide sometimes, but now youre all right
And its good to see your smiling face tonight
Now for you and me it may not be that hard to reach our dreams
But that magic feeling never seems to last
And while the futures there for anyone to change, still you know its seems
It would be easier sometimes to change the past
Im just one or two years and a couple of changes behind you
In my lessons at loves pain and heartache school
Where if you feel too free and you need something to remind you
Theres this loneliness springing up from your life
Like a fountain from a pool
Fountain of sorrow, fountain of light
Youve known that hollow sound of your own steps in flight
Youve had to hide sometimes but now youre all right
And its good to see your smiling face tonight
Fountain of sorrow, fountain of light
Youve known that hollow sound of your own steps in flight
Youve had to struggle, youve had to fight
To keep understanding and compassion in sight
You could be laughing at me, youve got the right
But you go on smiling so clear and so bright
song performed by by Jackson Browne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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That Fountain That Is Full Of Tears
That fountain that is full of tears
I saw it in
Saint Peter's square
While I visited Moskow
It wasn't a pretty sight
Let me tell you
The tears that are inside of that fountain
Are the tears from the people who had committed suicide
And also the people who had died from drug overdose
So many people come here to grieve their loss
This I know because while I was there I saw another man
That stood by my side
He never talked to me
And I never talked to him
He was probably a
Russian man
And beside the fountain that is full of tears there is a wall
That lists all the people that had committed suicide and died of
Drug overdose
poem by Aldo Kraas
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