The Robin for the Crumb
864
The Robin for the Crumb
Returns no syllable
But long records the Lady's name
In Silver Chronicle.
poem by Emily Dickinson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
So much Summer
651
So much Summer
Me for showing
Illegitimate—
Would a Smile's minute bestowing
Too exorbitant
To the Lady
With the Guinea
Look—if She should know
Crumb of Mine
A Robin's Larder
Would suffice to stow—
poem by Emily Dickinson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Robin Redbreast
Good-bye, good-bye to Summer!
For Summer's nearly done;
The garden smiling faintly,
Cool breezes in the sun;
Our Thrushes now are silent,
Our Swallows flown away, --
But Robin's here, in coat of brown,
With ruddy breast-knot gay.
Robin, Robin Redbreast,
O Robin dear!
Robin singing sweetly
In the falling of the year.
Bright yellow, red, and orange,
The leaves come down in hosts;
The trees are Indian Princes,
But soon they'll turn to Ghosts;
The scanty pears and apples
Hang russet on the bough,
It's Autumn, Autumn, Autumn late,
'Twill soon be Winter now.
Robin, Robin Redbreast,
O Robin dear!
And welaway! my Robin,
For pinching times are near.
The fireside for the Cricket,
The wheatstack for the Mouse,
When trembling night-winds whistle
And moan all round the house;
The frosty ways like iron,
The branches plumed with snow, --
Alas! in Winter, dead and dark,
Where can poor Robin go?
Robin, Robin Redbreast,
O Robin dear!
And a crumb of bread for Robin,
His little heart to cheer.
poem by William Allingham
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Old Dans Records
Get out old dans records
Get out old dans records
We will dance the whole night long
Its fun to play the old time songs
If old dan could see us now
I know hed be so proud
Bring out old dans records
Bring out old dans records
I remember my aunt bea
Shed dance with dan till two or three
If old dan could see he now
I know hed shout out loud
Dig out old dans records
Bring out old dans records
Were all here, weve all got dates
Well dance all night to the seventy-eights
If old dan could see us now
I know hed be so proud
If old dan were with us still
I know hed come around
Get out old dans records
Dig out old dans records
Back to nineteen thirty-five
The foxtrot, jitterbug n jive
If old dan could see us now
I know hed be so proud
Get out old dans records
Bring out old dans records
High above the fireplace
Theres a smile on old dans face
If old dan could see us now
I know hed be so proud
If old dan were with us still
I know hed come around
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Robin of Pyrocanta
A spring Robin, looking around,
red breast, sure, hop hop.
A look up, around, hop.
And towards the garden, centre,
wait, look.
Then it lifts its head as if for breath,
from a pool.
And looking as if a pendulum,
observing time.
Away then, with its crumb,
to the hedgeing safely.
Towards the berried shrub,
king of red berried bush,
red breasted robin
of pyrocanta, sing.
poem by Bernard Kennedy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
If you listen to really deep ambient records that don't move too much, very still records, long after those records are finished, you might find yourself listening for hours to the sound of the room.
quote by Bill Laswell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
How has Affection come from Prudence Suspicious to Metamorphosis Deliciously Propitious?
How has affection come
On bottle surfed to shore,
What soul-song once struck dumb
Has blossomed more and more.
Anguish to joy succomb!
Sensations Spring restore.
Awaited long, hope's hum
Feels, unconcealed, heals core
FEttered, heart's conundrum
Ceases to weigh rapports,
TIes no more knots, love's crumb
ON life's table's turned delicious
COunters prudence suspicious,
MEtamorphosis propitious...
(c) Jonathan Robin acrostic How has Affection come written 14 May 2008
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Long Haired Lady
Well, well, well, well, well,
Do you love me like you know you ought to do?
Well, well, well, well, well,
Or is this the only thing you want me for?
Well, Ive been meaning to talk to you about it for sometime,
Sweet little lass, you are my long haired lady.
Whos the lady that makes that brief occasional laughter?
Shes the lady we wears those flashing eyes.
Wholl be taking her ome when all the dancing is over?
Im the lucky man she will hypnotize.
Long haired lady. long haired lady.
Ah, love is long, love is long, love is long.
Ah, when youre wrong, love is long, love is long.
Well, well, well, well, well,
Do you love me like you know you ought to do?
Well, well, well, well, well,
Or is this the only thing you want me for?
Well, Ive been meaning to talk to you about it for sometime,
Sweet little lass, you are my long haired lady.
Bells are buzzing about my sweet delectable baby,
Birds are humming about their big surprise.
Whos your favorite person, dear phenomenal lady?
I belong to the girl with flashing eye.
Long haired lady. long haired lady.
Ah, sing your song, love is long, love is long.
Ah, love is long, love is long, love is long.
song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Bird must sing to earn the Crumb
880
The Bird must sing to earn the Crumb
What merit have the Tune
No Breakfast if it guaranty
The Rose content may bloom
To gain renown of Lady's Drawer
But if the Lady come
But once a Century, the Rose
Superfluous become—
poem by Emily Dickinson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Miracle for Breakfast
At six o'clock we were waiting for coffee,
waiting for coffee and the charitable crumb
that was going to be served from a certain balcony
--like kings of old, or like a miracle.
It was still dark. One foot of the sun
steadied itself on a long ripple in the river.
The first ferry of the day had just crossed the river.
It was so cold we hoped that the coffee
would be very hot, seeing that the sun
was not going to warm us; and that the crumb
would be a loaf each, buttered, by a miracle.
At seven a man stepped out on the balcony.
He stood for a minute alone on the balcony
looking over our heads toward the river.
A servant handed him the makings of a miracle,
consisting of one lone cup of coffee
and one roll, which he proceeded to crumb,
his head, so to speak, in the clouds--along with the sun.
Was the man crazy? What under the sun
was he trying to do, up there on his balcony!
Each man received one rather hard crumb,
which some flicked scornfully into the river,
and, in a cup, one drop of the coffee.
Some of us stood around, waiting for the miracle.
I can tell what I saw next; it was not a miracle.
A beautiful villa stood in the sun
and from its doors came the smell of hot coffee.
In front, a baroque white plaster balcony
added by birds, who nest along the river,
--I saw it with one eye close to the crumb--
and galleries and marble chambers. My crumb
my mansion, made for me by a miracle,
through ages, by insects, birds, and the river
working the stone. Every day, in the sun,
at breakfast time I sit on my balcony
with my feet up, and drink gallons of coffee.
We licked up the crumb and swallowed the coffee.
A window across the river caught the sun
as if the miracle were working, on the wrong balcony.
poem by Elizabeth Bishop
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
When I was a bit older I had all of the George Carlin records, all of the Steve Martin records, all of the Cheech and Chong records and all of the Richard Pryor records.
quote by Marc Maron
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Lady Please
(hicks)
Well theres them that do and them that dont
Them that will and them that wont
Ive been trying to get you for a long time
For a long time
When our eyes meet at each different place
How I got to know your face
Think that I have loved you for a long time
For a long time
Lady please Im not a man of many words you see
If you lie with me, you wont sleep
Lady please if in the future theres some other man
I will understand and I wont weep
As our bodies fill my lonely room
A room that once was filled with gloom
Know that I will love you for a long time
For a long time
For a long time
Chorus
As the morning sun lights up our bed
You are there to stroke my head
Know Im going to love you for a long time
For a long time
Lady please
Lady please
Lady please
song performed by by Hollies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Bread And Milk For Breakfast
Bread and milk for breakfast,
And woollen frocks to wear,
And a crumb for robin redbreast
On the cold days of the year.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Think I'm Gonna Have a Baby
Platform shoes on table tops
I think I'm gonna be a lady
Opinions flyin' right and left
I think I'm gonna tell him maybe
They're puttin' out too many phonograph records
I think I'm gonna have a baby, a baby
I wouldn't be naughty for the sake of naught
Or be different just to differ
I wouldn't sell myself just to get bought
Or give to just deliver
They're puttin' out too many phonograph records
I think I want to be a river, be a river...
Rivers do such nice things, they roll to the sea
When I am a river then I'll want to listen to me
So you pick me up, and you tune me up
And you wind me up and play me
You talk about heart, and you say you know soul
And the way to treat a lady
You're puttin' out too many phonograph records
I think I'm gonna have a baby, a baby
Babys do such nice things, they rock on your knee
When I was a baby my rockin' was something to see
song performed by by Carly Simon, music by Carly Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Impeccable...
each word is well chosen
it has a history and significance
each syllable is important
to build the empire
of his poem,
majestic now
people keep on reading
amazed and
awed
by the impeccable,
and yet for how long will this majesty
last?
only for once,
and then the reading is over
and no one talks about
the word, and the syllable is not even uttered
only for once and then
gone forever.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Hey Lucky Lady
Hey lucky lady lucky lady I was once the lucky lady
I was happy with my baby I was such a lucky lady
Hey lucky lady lucky lady you are now the lucky lady
Are you happy with my baby you know you're a lucky lady you lucky lady
Lucky lady that's what I was I was happy to have his love
All a woman could wish for he was that and so much more
He was mine and how I loved him before your hands ever touched him
Long before your temptin' eyes lured my baby from my life
Hey lucky lady lucky lady...
Is it love or is it pleasure do you know you've found a treasure
Are you only having fun do you know the prize you've won
If you don't want something lasting if it's just the time you're passing
Lucky lady give him up cause I do love him very much
Hey lucky lady lucky lady...
Hey lucky lady lucky lady...
song performed by by Dolly Parton, music by Dolly Parton (1975)
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Robert Crumb is an influence on how I draw, but not on the subject matter I take or my approach. One thing I do like about Crumb is that he's chronicled his age, his times, and I think that is what artists should do.
The Road to Avignon
A Minstrel stands on a marble stair,
Blown by the bright wind, debonair;
Below lies the sea, a sapphire floor,
Above on the terrace a turret door
Frames a lady, listless and wan,
But fair for the eye to rest upon.
The minstrel plucks at his silver strings,
And looking up to the lady, sings: --
Down the road to Avignon,
The long, long road to Avignon,
Across the bridge to Avignon,
One morning in the spring.
The octagon tower casts a shade
Cool and gray like a cutlass blade;
In sun-baked vines the cicalas spin,
The little green lizards run out and in.
A sail dips over the ocean's rim,
And bubbles rise to the fountain's brim.
The minstrel touches his silver strings,
And gazing up to the lady, sings: --
Down the road to Avignon,
The long, long road to Avignon,
Across the bridge to Avignon,
One morning in the spring.
Slowly she walks to the balustrade,
Idly notes how the blossoms fade
In the sun's caress; then crosses where
The shadow shelters a carven chair.
Within its curve, supine she lies,
And wearily closes her tired eyes.
The minstrel beseeches his silver strings,
And holding the lady spellbound, sings: --
Down the road to Avignon,
The long, long road to Avignon,
Across the bridge to Avignon,
One morning in the spring.
Clouds sail over the distant trees,
Petals are shaken down by the breeze,
They fall on the terrace tiles like snow;
The sighing of waves sounds, far below.
A humming-bird kisses the lips of a rose
Then laden with honey and love he goes.
The minstrel woos with his silver strings,
And climbing up to the lady, sings: --
Down the road to Avignon,
The long, long road to Avignon,
Across the bridge to Avignon,
One morning in the spring.
Step by step, and he comes to her,
Fearful lest she suddenly stir.
Sunshine and silence, and each to each,
The lute and his singing their only speech;
He leans above her, her eyes unclose,
The humming-bird enters another rose.
The minstrel hushes his silver strings.
Hark! The beating of humming-birds' wings!
Down the road to Avignon,
The long, long road to Avignon,
Across the bridge to Avignon,
One morning in the spring.
poem by Amy Lowell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Old Records Never Die
(ian hunter)
Sometimes you realize
That there is an end to life.
Yesterday I heard them say
A heros blown away.
And its so hard to lose
Someone whos close to you.
Oh me, I did not see
The danger every day.
But musics something in the air,
So he can play it anywhere.
Old records never die.
Get youre healing from a song,
Just when everything goes wrong.
Play it right
Through the night
Till morning brings you light.
And if some folk laugh at you
Let em all laugh they never knew.
Oh all those scenes, to me it seems
Some folk never dream.
? ? , I feel a force
Rebel with some other cause.
Old records never die.
Old records never die.
You can watch the waves roll by.
You can see it in their eyes.
Old records never die.
Old records never die.
You can watch the waves roll by.
? ?
Old records never die.
I can hear you
And I know why
Old records never die.
song performed by by Ian Hunter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
When The Poem Returns Life Returns
WHEN THE POEM RETURNS LIFE RETURNS
When the poem returns life returns
There is enthusiasm and exuberance again
There is something to live for
And dreams are dreams
And hopes give hope-
When the poem returns life returns
And I begin again here
As if there is some sense after all
In writing and living again.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I've been around for such a long time. My first hit record was over 20 years ago and the people who bought my records then are married now and they probably still play these records and their children like them.
quote by Bonnie Tyler
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!