On The Banks of The Shore
have i wandered too far this time
to feel the presence of Your hand
i cant say that i've been blind
building castles in the sand
seems kinda funny for me to say
words i've said before
feeling's too heavy for me to pray
on the banks of the shore
on the banks of the shore
at the foot of the cross
my heart's aching and sore
and my soul's feeling lost...
could You spare an angel or two
put a rainbow in the sky
just to let me know that You
care if i live or die
maybe i'll get it right this time
find the key to the door
just need some peace of mind
on the banks of the shore
on the banks of the shore
at the foot of the cross
my heart's aching and sore
and my soul's feeling lost
on the banks of the shore
at the foot of the cross
my heart's aching and sore
and my soul's feeling lost....
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Lovers On A Beach
Written by ricky & marty wilde
Lovers on a beach
Lovers on a beach
Two naked hands lay on the sand
When all the world was out of reach
Through the shuttered doors
The music filtered through
Playing on a theme that couldnt run
Lovers on a shore
Lovers on a shore
The heavy wine of broken time
But now theyre gone its nothing more
Looking back on days
When summer seemed so long
Now theres only winter nights to come
And oh - sometimes shes missing you
She hears the shore
She feels it more
And out there the waves are breaking
Back here her heart is aching
Lovers on a beach
Lovers on a beach
Two silhouettes were on a shore
But now theyre lost and out of reach
Now on lonely roads
The flashbacks lead to you
Like a faded photograph in time
Oh lovers (lovers, lovers, lovers, lovers...)
And oh just as shes missing you
She hears the shore
She feels it more
And out there the waves are breaking
Back here her heart is aching
Lovers on a beach
Lovers on a beach
Two naked hands theyre on the sand
When all the world was out of reach
Lovers on a beach
Lovers on a beach
Lovers
Lovers
Lovers on a beach
Lovers
Lovers
Lovers
song performed by by Kim Wilde
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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VIII. To the River Itchin, near Winton.
ITCHIN, when I behold thy banks again,
Thy crumbling margin, and thy silver breast,
On which the self-same tints still seem to rest,
Why feels my heart the shiv'ring sense of pain?
Is it, that many a summer's day has past
Since, in life's morn, I carol'd on thy side?
Is it, that oft, since then, my heart has sigh'd,
As Youth, and Hope's delusive gleams, flew fast?
Is it that those, who circled on thy shore,
Companions of my youth, now meet now more?
Whate'er the cause, upon thy banks I bend
Sorrowing, yet feel such solace at my heart,
As at the meeting of some long-lost friend,
From whom, in happier hours, we wept to part.
poem by William Lisle Bowles
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To what shore would you cross
To what shore would you cross,
O my heart?
there is no traveller before you,
there is no road:
Where is the movement,
where is the rest,
on that shore?
There is no water; no boat, no boatman, is there;
There is not so much as a rope to tow the boat, nor a man to draw it.
No earth, no sky, no time, no thing, is there: no shore, no ford!
There, there is neither body nor mind:
and where is the place that shall still the thirst of the soul?
You shall find naught in that emptiness.
Be strong, and enter into your own body:
for there your foothold is firm.
Consider it well,
O my heart!
go not elsewhere,
Kabîr says: 'Put all imaginations away,
and stand fast in that which you are.'
Footprint
Love
that like footprint on the sand
uncertainly answered
that back
like a shield for my feeling
always walking one step alone
everytime I close
like the sand on the shore
that waved back to the shore
my feeling for you
like shore side should be calm
without voice
only written disappeared
from hitsuji no namida
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Stranger On The Shore Of Love
The curtain goes up
The first act begins
The scene is two people in love
Lovely is she, lucky feels he
She smiles in his eyes
He smiles in her eyes
They both vow love never to part
One sight for all, lovers to see
A perfect love story begins
til insecurity sets in
What happens then is, one aching heart
Oh, I dont wanna be
No stranger on the shore of love with tears
And a broken heart
I can tell you that I dont wanna be
No stranger on the shore of love with tears
And a broken heart
A table for two
Love vows of I do
A honeymoon out of a dream
Who could ask for, anything more
A home on a hill
With love daffodils
And cold winter nights by the fire
What more could be, for she and he
Theres more than enough love and yet
She or he starts feeling regret
What do you get, one broken heart
Oh, I dont wanna be
No stranger on the shore of love with tears
And a broken heart
I can tell you from experience I dont wanna be
No stranger on the shore of love with tears
And a broken heart
I dont wanna be
No stranger on the shore of love with tears
And a-a-a-oh, oh, oh
Oh, I dont wanna be, please dont let me be
No stranger on the shore of love with tears
And a broken heart, na, na, na, na, na
I dont wanna be no, dont let me be no
No, no, no with tears
I dont wanna have an upset stomach from a broken heart, baby
I dont wanna be
No stranger on the shore of love with tears
And a broken heart
song performed by by Stevie Wonder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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For music
ALONG the shore, along the shore
I see the wavelets meeting:
But thee I see--ah, never more,
For all my wild heart's beating.
The little wavelets come and go,
The tide of life ebbs to and fro,
Advancing and retreating:
But from the shore, the steadfast shore,
The sea is parted never:
And mine I hold thee evermore,
Forever and forever.
Along the shore, along the shore
I hear the waves resounding,
But thou wilt cross them nevermore
For all my wild heart's bounding:
The moon comes out above the tide
And quiets all the billows wide
Her pathway bright surrounding:
Thus on the shore, the dreary shore,
I walk with weak endeavor:
I have thy love's light evermore,
Forever and forever.
poem by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
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My Aching Bones
Deep in my soul
all the way to my aching bones.
My love for you is just that strong.
The feeling reaches all the way down
to my aching bones.
It flows through my body
like blood through my veins;
all the way down to my aching bones.
To you my heart, soul and love belongs.
I am yours completely all the way down to
my aching bones.
Song
I.
Slow spreads the gloom my soul desires--
The sun from India's shore retires--
To EVAN'S banks with temp'rate ray,
Home of my youth! he leads the day.
O banks to me for ever dear!
O stream, whose murmurs still I hear!
All, all my hopes of bliss reside
Where EVAN mingles with the CLYDE .
II.
And she in simple beauty drest,
Whose image lives within my breast,
Who trembling heard my parting sigh,
And long pursued me with her eye!
Does she, with heart unchang'd as mine,
Oft in the vocal bowers recline?
Or where yon grot o'erhangs the tide,
Muse, while the EVAN meets the CLYDE ?
III.
Ye lofty banks that EVAN bound,
Ye lavish woods that wave around,
And o'er the stream your shadows throw,
Which softly winds so far below--
What secret charm to mem'ry brings
All that on EVAN'S border springs?
Sweet banks!--ye bloom by MARY'S side!
Blest stream!--she views thee haste to CLYDE!
IV.
Can all the wealth of INDIA'S coast
Atone for years in absence lost?
Return, ye moments of delight,
With richer treasures bless my sight!
Swift from this desert let me part,
And fly to meet a kindred heart!
Nor more may aught my steps divide
From that dear stream which flows to CLYDE.
poem by Helen Maria Williams
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Fallen Angel
Life was a bore
hometown too small
he's leaving this place
won't make a call.
Colder than ice
is the feeling he's got
give him some vice tonight
let him walk tall.
He's a fallen angel, fallen angel,
fallen angel full of sins.
He jumped too high and than he lost his wings.
You lost your doll blew down the wall
took all the boys only for toys.
Colder than ice is the feeling you've got
there's no surprise no thanks you've seen the lot
until the river bursts his banks.
Still life goes on like a cold flame
maybe the debt of sin is life no gain
colder than ice is the feeling you've got
I've no advice you're on your own
the only thing what you've got.
song performed by by Zed Yago
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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But No More
The time is now or never
The crashing is coming near
The delphi is on the corner
And he whispers in your ear
It used to be men could be solemn even while laughing
And laughter could be heard shore to shore
But no more
Now all you hear is crying
Cause no one's on the phone
Your feet are just now freezing over
You know that you are here all alone
It used to be men could be solemn even while laughing
And laughter could be heard shore to shore
But no more
When I think of friends and places
Things we wanted, hoped we'd be
All that's left is fading traces
Memories of what use to be
Hear their laughter, see their shadows
Feel the darkness, see the light
We had lit all but lost so quickly
We think we won but we lost the fight
But it's all the same to me
I've seen all I want to see
First they laugh at you
Then they cry
Say they'll always be there
Then they die
So alone yet so alive
It used to be men could be solemn even while laughing
And laughter could be heard shore to shore
But no more
song performed by by Zebra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pain and Sore
What is pain
What is Sore
Let me define the too
They mean when a soul is dead
When there is nothing left
But emptiness
Where is pain
Where is sore
For me pain is everywhere
But for the sore
Thats only in my eyes
Where I cry all the time
How is pain
How is sore
Pain slowly kills a body
Sore is worse then words can explain
Who is pain
And who is sore
Pain is the enemies-thy sisters
As for the sore that would be my heart
When is pain
And when is sore
Pain is when you call
And sore is seeing everyone cry
All these are symbolizing one thing
That thing is whats inside
What hurts and is unbarriable
So thats what, where, how, who, when
Pain and Sore are
poem by Renee Ortiz
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The Gloomy Night Is Gath'ring Fast
The gloomy night is gath'ring fast,
Loud roars the wild inconstant blast;
Yon murky cloud is filled with rain,
I see it driving o'er the plain;
The hunter now has left the moor,
The scatt'red coveys meet secure;
While here I wander, prest with care,
Along the lonely banks of Ayr.
The Autumn mourns her rip'ning corn
By early Winter's ravage torn;
Across her placid, azure sky,
She sees the scowling tempest fly;
Chill runs my blood to hear it rave:
I think upon the stormy wave,
Where many a danger I must dare,
Far from the bonie banks of Ayr.
'Tis not the surging billows' roar,
'Tis not the fatal, deadly shore;
Tho' death inev'ry shape appear,
The wretched have no more to fear:
But round my heart the ties are bound,
That heart transpierc'd with many a wound;
These bleed afresh, those ties I tear,
To leave the bonie banks of Ayr.
Farewell, old Coila's hills and dales,
Her heathy moors and winding vales;
The scenes where wretched Fancy roves,
Pursuing past, unhappy loves!
Farewell my friends! Farewell my foes!
My peace with these, my love with those--
The bursting tears my heart declare,
Farewell, my bonie banks of Ayr.
poem by Robert Burns
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The Future
A wanderer is man from his birth.
He was born in a ship
On the breast of the river of Time;
Brimming with wonder and joy
He spreads out his arms to the light,
Rivets his gaze on the banks of the stream.
As what he sees is, so have his thoughts been.
Whether he wakes,
Where the snowy mountainous pass,
Echoing the screams of the eagles,
Hems in its gorges the bed
Of the new-born clear-flowing stream;
Whether he first sees light
Where the river in gleaming rings
Sluggishly winds through the plain;
Whether in sound of the swallowing sea--
As is the world on the banks,
So is the mind of the man.
Vainly does each, as he glides,
Fable and dream
Of the lands which the river of Time
Had left ere he woke on its breast,
Or shall reach when his eyes have been closed.
Only the tract where he sails
He wots of; only the thoughts,
Raised by the objects he passes, are his.
Who can see the green earth any more
As she was by the sources of Time?
Who imagines her fields as they lay
In the sunshine, unworn by the plough?
Who thinks as they thought,
The tribes who then roam'd on her breast,
Her vigorous, primitive sons?
What girl
Now reads in her bosom as clear
As Rebekah read, when she sate
At eve by the palm-shaded well?
Who guards in her breast
As deep, as pellucid a spring
Of feeling, as tranquil, as sure?
What bard,
At the height of his vision, can deem
Of God, of the world, of the soul,
With a plainness as near,
As flashing as Moses felt
When he lay in the night by his flock
On the starlit Arabian waste?
Can rise and obey
The beck of the Spirit like him?
This tract which the river of Time
Now flows through with us, is the plain.
Gone is the calm of its earlier shore.
Border'd by cities and hoarse
With a thousand cries is its stream.
And we on its breast, our minds
Are confused as the cries which we hear,
Changing and shot as the sights which we see.
And we say that repose has fled
For ever the course of the river of Time.
That cities will crowd to its edge
In a blacker, incessanter line;
That the din will be more on its banks,
Denser the trade on its stream,
Flatter the plain where it flows,
Fiercer the sun overhead.
That never will those on its breast
See an ennobling sight,
Drink of the feeling of quiet again.
But what was before us we know not,
And we know not what shall succeed.
Haply, the river of Time--
As it grows, as the towns on its marge
Fling their wavering lights
On a wider, statelier stream--
May acquire, if not the calm
Of its early mountainous shore,
Yet a solemn peace of its own.
And the width of the waters, the hush
Of the grey expanse where he floats,
Freshening its current and spotted with foam
As it draws to the Ocean, may strike
Peace to the soul of the man on its breast--
As the pale waste widens around him,
As the banks fade dimmer away,
As the stars come out, and the night-wind
Brings up the stream
Murmurs and scents of the infinite sea.
poem by Matthew Arnold
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Hollow
A sea shell that can’t be found by the sea shore
You’re, about as deep as a paper door
With as much substance as an empty store
Like that guy they named a movie for
Or, piggy banks and chocolate rabbits
Not like monks, nuns, and habits
Your soul is void like winter jackets
In June, you’re as see-thru as tennis rackets
poem by P.R. Prosper
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O Cruel Sea!
No more will I go near the sea!
No more will I stand on a beach;
No more will I live near a shore;
The sea no more looks lovely!
No more will I play on its sands;
No more will I bask in its sun;
No more will I watch ships and boats;
The sea has lost its glory!
No more will I walk on the shore;
No more will I build sand-castles;
No more will I eat sea-fish foods;
The sea has lost its beauty!
No more will I go over-seas;
No more will I adore the waves;
No more will I yearn for the sea;
The sea has lost its sanctity!
No more will I deep-dive for pearls;
No more will I collect sea-shells;
No more will I dream of Blue Sea;
The sea’s a Mass-Grave, watery!
poem by John Celes
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Driftin Too Far From Shore
I didnt know that youd be leavin
Or who you thought you were talkin to.
I figure maybe were even
Or maybe Im one up on you.
I send you all my money
Just like I did before.
I tried to reach you honey,
But youre driftin too far from shore.
Driftin too far from shore
Driftin too far from shore
Driftin too far from shore
Driftin too far from shore
I aint gonna get lost in this current,
I dont like playing cat and mouse.
No gentleman likes making love to a servant.
Especially when hes in his fathers house.
I never could guess your weight, baby,
Never needed to call you my whore.
I always thought you were straight, baby,
But youre driftin too far from shore.
Driftin too far from shore
Driftin too far from shore
Driftin too far from shore
Driftin too far from shore
Well these times and these tunnels are haunted,
The bottom of the barrel is too.
I waited years sometimes for what I wanted.
Everybody cant be as lucky as you.
Never no more do I wonder,
Why you dont never play with me any more.
At any moment you could go under,
cause youre driftin too far from shore.
Driftin too far from shore
Driftin too far from shore
Driftin too far from shore
Driftin too far from shore
You and me we had completeness,
I give you all of what I could provide
We werent on the wrong side, sweetness,
We were the wrong side.
Ive already ripped out the phones, honey.
You cant walk the streets in a war.
I can finish this alone, honey,
Youre driftin too far from shore.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lost poem...Lost love..
Lost poem...
Lost words...
Lost feeling..
Lost love...
Nay, these are not lost, it is a deception
Nay, these are not lost, a false perception
Lost poem...
Lost words...
Lost feeling..
Lost love...
Nay, these are not lost, they exist deep in my soul,
Ultimate forgiveness, a high ideal, and yet a worthy goal.
Lost poem...
Lost words...
Lost feeling..
Lost love...
poem by Chad Fisher
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On The Banks Of The Old Ponchartrain
Recorded by: hank williams, sr.
Written by: hank williams sr. & ramona vincent
I [a] travelled from [a7] texas to [d] old louis-[a] anne
Thru valleys, oer mountains and [e7] plains
Both [a] footsore and [a7] weary I [d] rested a-[a] while
On the [e7] banks of the old ponchar-[a] train.
The fairest young maiden that I ever saw
Passed by as it started to rain
We both found a shelter beneath the same tree
On the banks of the old ponchartrain.
We hid from the shower an hour or so
She asked me how long Id remain
I told her that Id spend the rest of my days
On the banks of the old ponchartrain.
I just couldnt tell her that I ran away
From jail on a west texas plain
I prayed in my heart I would never be found
On the banks of the old ponchartrain.
Then one day a man put his hand on my arm
And said I must go west again
I left her alone without saying goodbye
On the banks of the old ponchartrain.
Tonight as I sit here alone in my cell
I know that shes waiting in vain
Im hoping and praying someday to return
To the banks of the old ponchartrain.
song performed by by Hank Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Tweed Visited
O Tweed! a stranger, that with wandering feet
O'er hill and dale has journeyed many a mile,
(If so his weary thoughts he might beguile),
Delighted turns thy stranger-stream to greet.
The waving branches that romantic bend
O'er thy tall banks a soothing charm bestow;
The murmurs of thy wandering wave below
Seem like the converse of some long-lost friend.
Delightful stream! though now along thy shore,
When spring returns in all her wonted pride,
The distant pastoral pipe is heard no more;
Yet here while laverocks sing could I abide,
Far from the stormy world's contentious roar,
To muse upon thy banks at eventide.
poem by William Lisle Bowles
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Drifting Too Far
Out on the perilous deep,
Where danger silently creeps,
And storm's so violently sweeping,
You're drifting too far from shore.
Chorus:
Drifting too far from shore,
You're drifting too far from shore,
Come to Jesus today,
Let Him show you the way
You're drifting too far from shore.
Today, the Tempest rose high,
And clouds o'er shadow the sky.
Sure death is hovering neigh,
You're drifting too far from shore.
Drifting too far from shore,
You're drifting too far from shore,
Come to Jesus today,
Let Him show you the way
You're drifting too far from shore.
Why meet a terrible fate?
Mercies abundantly wait.
Turn back before it's too late
You're drifting too far from shore.
Drifting too far from shore
You're drifting too far from shore (peaceful shore)
Come to Jesus today. Let him show you the way
You're drifting too far from shore...
song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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