Mute Marriages
Mute marriages:
the ten-ton block of ice
obstructing the throat, the heart,
the red filter of the liver,
the clogged life.
It is a glacier
in which frozen children swim
ground round with boulders,
pebbles, bits of stone
from other ice ages.
Here a lapis glitters,
here a shard of bottle glass-
valuables & junk:
the history of a house
told in its garbage cans,
the history of a life
in its nightmares.
Speak the dream.
Follow the red thread
of the images.
Defrost the glacier
with the live heat
of your breath,
propelled by the heart's
explosion.
poem by Erica Jong
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Related quotes
Love: The History (Radha-35)
The history will not speak of you
No one was aware of it
Though
I had known
The history today,
so embarrassed and unprepared
had not been able to cuddle you
In its lap
Who will it answer?
And you refused to be a goddess
You were well aware
That
It was not useful for you
To be a goddess
After waiting for someone
For unlimited ages
You still aspire to
Continue waiting
Still frozen as an unknown monument
Half destroyed
Just because
You can remember me in your mind
You chose to remain human.
Had the history knew
History after history would come up after
And would be accountable
To the successor.
The questions would only return
To the history itself
Striking back the infinity (emptiness)
The history stands with bowing head
In front of you
Not able to measure your emptiness.
How will it understand your waiting?
Before so many ages
And so many ages ahead
You keep searching to whom
round and round
With your unflickered eyes.
poem by Subrat Pradhan
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The Rest Is History
Saw you across the room
Felt somethin stir inside my soul
Knew Id never be the same
Now that love had taken hold
Then when you touched me
There was no doubt
You unterstood what my heart was all about
And the rest is history
The story of you and me
For all eternity
The record will show
Well fill up the pages
Romance for the ages
There for the world to see
The rest ist history
Before we spoke a word
My heart told me you were the one
When you pressed your hand to mine
I knew my life had just begun
Like some old movie
Music filled the night
Lost held each other tight.
And the rest is history
The story of you and me
For all eternity
The record will show
Well fill up the pages
Romance for the ages
There for the world to see
The rest ist history
And the rest is history
The story of you and me
For all eternity
The record will show
Well fill up the pages
Romance for the ages
There for the world to see
The rest ist history
History ...
The rest is history.
The rest is history.
song performed by by LeAnn Rimes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Life Is ~ The Stones Under My Feet
Life is the stones under my feet
All the places I've walked
All the places I haven't
They say something about who I am
The pebbles that I pick up to toss in the ocean
The boulders I've sat on
The skipping stones I throw across the lake
Gravel and sand
And cobblestone streets
Places with history
Places where history is about to be written
And what it has to say for my history
All those stones that I've crunched
Under my boots
Or sandals
Or sneakers
Or just my bare feet
Walking carefully
And there occasionally is a piece of glass
When I cut myself I bleed
But I heal in the end
Then I get up to walk on more stones
Because life is where you choose to walk
And where you don't
poem by Indigo Rosedragon
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One dark night
I hang a dried porcupine fish on the ceiling,
And with a nylon thread, in the dark, it looks like it is having a nice swim in the air.
I didn’t mind it has taken life, and so
When friend Sammy drops by,
He calls it art.
Inside me, it is what I call myself, an air porcupine; I love the spines all over me,
So no one touches me, and I would hurt everyone near me,
I call it my life, what does Sammy know anyway, except a claim for art,
One dark night, the porcupine fish got carried about his swim
And plunged into my open mouth and clogged my heart, I struggled for breath
From then on the nightmare did not stop…. life moves on with the porcupine fish.
How would Sammy know that art has coarsely etched life? The spines all over me,
The porcupine swimming in my belly, my chest congested, my tongue tied, my teeth gritting, my heart bleeding in a hundred pains with a hundred wounds.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Same Story, The same History
...and so the same story is told
the same history is made....
why always speak of descrimination
why always speak of war
why always speak of class
why always speak of injustice
why always speak of poverty
why always speak of rebellion....
why not speak of equality
why not speak of peace
why not speak of respect
why not speak of wisdom
why not speak of production
why not speak of working together...
...and so the same story is told
the same history is made.
poem by Marites C. Cayetano
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History?
Has history taught us nothing
but tales and ancient lies?
All wrapped up in stories
not told us by the wise?
Told by the vicars who consecrated death
Told by the rulers
with power in their breath.
Passed on in written words
in books the masses read,
never questioned, never disputed
in the minds they lead.
Slanted stories still present
right to our present day.
Foes of peace seen as heroes
in ungodly ways
and as we live the history writers
will pen each blazing act
as benificent for these difficult times,
more fiction than true fact.
So those who follow in our steps
will read our history book
and what they read will be fantasy
with a different look.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Sleep Here to arise some where!
Life is a dream
only a dream
Not full of cream
Only we scream,
In Joy or pain
All that is vain,
When we lose restrain
We take too much strain,
only to fall in pain!
Life is life all around,
No meaning ever found,
Only going round and round
From space to ground
Ground to space is another
round!
Life has several crew
anyone can any moment screw
Everyone is captain
Aim is to contain
By that restrain,
Love and life simply both teach and Train
Without any strain!
So many people sigh
And say
To hell with this world,
Look into their eyes,
They live in the hell
they are not well, For them nothing is well,
Only like that they tell,
Somewhere their feathered hat
of pride fell!
Life is a dream,
And a dream Only continued indefinitely,
It is dream in which
We feel the difference between
real and dream,
Reality is deep sleep,
And slept long before somewhere,
Arise here to sleep Someday,
Only to awaken in dream!
Death is that sleep,
From this house carries only to
give another house!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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I touched my father’s heart
Today
My heart shuddered for
My two month old son, my first born,
Fallen ill…
I touched my father’s heart,
That once throbbed for me,
Down numberless days and nights,
Whenever I fell ill…
Ages ago…
I touched my father’s heart,
That has sailed through
Thrice and more attacks…
That has gathered icebergs
To block the flow…
I touched my father’s heart
When my little first born
Touched his first illness,
And struggled for breath
In the frozen monsoon nights…
At the fringe of ages,
Where every fatherhood meets every sonhood,
My heart touched my father’s heart…
I lived my father’s heart…!
poem by Abhilash Fraizer
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The Threshold Stone
WHEN I went to live in the little house,
That stands on the hilltop alone,
What touched me most of all
Was neither roof nor wall,
But the smooth, worn face of its old threshold stone.
For when I entered that little house,
With its four rooms cool in the heat,
And its windows clean and bright,
There it lay, new-washed and white,
With its tale of the coming and the going of feet.
Then I lost count of time in that little house,
And the world and its things all about,
And I hearkened there, alone,
To the footfalls on that stone,
Of the young coming in and the old going out.
And the folk that had dwelt in that little house,
They were mute, spectre-mute, at my side —
The young man, strong and bold,
And the grey man, wise and old,
And the little, pinched woman and the new-made bride.
Oh, often in haste to that little house
Came love in the night-time alone,
And dallied there a while,
With a little, wistful smile,
And with feather-weight feet on the old threshold stone.
And men hurried home to that little house
When the round of the daytime was o'er
With its worry, heat and noise,
And kissed their girls and boys,
And the patient little mothers that waited at the door.
Though I dwell now no more in that little house
That stands on the hilltop alone,
Yet this I got from it —
This human story writ
On the smooth, worn face of its old threshold stone.
Though they take stone from stone in that little house,
Making litter of all it has been.
Yet they shall not destroy
All the grief, all the joy,
All the youth, all the love that its threshold has seen.
poem by Roderic Quinn
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History Stones People.
History stones people.
They stoned Moses, David and Linclon,
history did that for all to see
Marbel and cement,
that's all it leaves behind
of a long changing life.
Great heroes of time,
fall under the mercy
of the sculptor's knife.
History stones faces,
in a way that would make
ecclestias cringe.
History stones feet,
in a way that would make
piligrims cry.
History stones life
to always stay fresh,
yet, what is life without
the sins of the flesh.
All the radical kids
get stoned
and never change
or even move a muscle.
All the sword raising warriors
history stoned
without blood in their veins.
You can see all the victims
that history stoned
when you walk in the park,
they got kings
and queens
hell, they even got Gods.
They are there captive
in history's stones,
never to be again what they were;
wilting flesh and
breakable bones.
People look up at them
they are victims too.
History's stones fall far,
even on to you.
Those stoned to live
are like the ones stoned to die.
enslaved to the search
of the frozen smile.
Life is a burning bush
that doesn't get consumed.
not a dead rock
or a statue of history.
It's a fusing wind
of happinnes and misery.
An exploding volcano
of courage and fear.
It is the stem of the flower
struggling through the seasons
to stand and bloom
above the drying soil.
Life is the fighting wave
you see at sea
forgotten and denied
by the stones of history.
poem by Samuel Katz
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Dont Stop For No-one
Dont stop for no-one
And then it goes on
(repeat 3 times)
One day my father said to me
its time for you to leave,
But dont wait for me, its pre-destiny
Dont wait around for someone to believe in
You know, history dont stop for no-one
Just like moses waiting on the mountain
You know, history dont stop for no-one
Dont hang around in the babylonian gardens
You know, history dont stop for no-one
(? ) tourist attraction
You know, history dont stop for no-one
Dont stop for no-one
And then it goes on
(repeat)
Sometimes I told I must confess
To a life of tenderness
But I just repeat what he said to me:
dont close your eyes because seeing is believing
You know, history dont stop for no-one
(? ) child, fighting for a meaning
You know, history dont stop for no-one
Dont dream too long, its time to awake now
You know, history dont stop for no-one
Like sleeping lucy waiting for a kiss now
You know, history dont stop for no-one
I think you know the way its gonna go now
You know, history dont stop for no-one
From aztech kings to new york queens
And then it goes on
song performed by by Heaven 17
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Hermit
Over the lake
moon was hounded out
from the dark clouds
into the defying blues.
The thick orbit hauled up the debris
of falling stars.
I was watching the crowd of centuries
piling up in history.
Global heat was settling
on the flutings
to start a black magic
of secret fear.
A hermit sitting on a glacier
melts into a cave.
God knows how the stunned
colossus will stand up.
poem by Satish Verma
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You are now history
It is so sad,
And of course, mad
The steps we made,
Our hopes and wishes,
You are history now
I thought we wouldnt,
But yes we sank,
The water was salty,
Our wounds it revitalised,
So cold,
Our hopes so frozen,
You are now history
Guess what, you broke my heart,
Yet I dont miss you,
You were nice I know,
You destroyed us we know
You are history now
poem by Gaylord Munemo
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Tales of my past
Don't write me down in history,
In reference to my past deeds,
Works I derived no joy from,
Or mistakes of those years.
Don't write me down in history,
The ages gone show little of what I am,
That part of me is truly done,
My dreams now can say it all.
Don't write me down in history,
The lessons of life flows in my blood,
My blunders are now my teachers,
The scars now my daily pledge.
Don't write me down in history,
I am yet to achieve perfection,
Still I strive for redemption,
Searching the soil for my lost glory,
Don't write me down in history,
The tales of my past I recall,
That was then, this is me,
Woes to your judgment.
poem by Venessa Ambrose
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My Heart Beats For You
I felt the love so deep in my heart
Like a knife tearing me apart
I felt your breath in every
Pulsating blood vessel flowing
Through my veins, and I knew
That my life would never be the same.
I felt my heart wanting to break
Every time I’d look at your face.
Your eyes would take me on a long journey
To places I’ve never been before
Like in a whirlpool going round and round
And my self going further down.
You are every breath of my life
Every desire in my soul
And you are the one I want to hold.
My heart has become an open book
Pick it up and take a look.
My heart no longer has anything to hide
So come on down and climb inside.
Look at the way a heart truly beats for you
And there is nothing that I wouldn’t do.
To capture your love and put it in a bottle
For all the world to see, that your love
Belongs to me.
This is my heart and I give it to you
Like a bee gives us honey
Taste the sweetness and the joy it brings
For your love is my everything.
poem by Louis Rams
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After My Death
After my death mourn me this way:
'There was a man-and see: he is no more;
before his time this man died
and his life's song in mid-bar stopped;
and oh, it is sad! One more song he had
and now the song is gone for good,
gone for good!
And it is very sad!-a harp too he had
a living being and murmurous
and the poet in his words in it
all of his heart's secret revealed,
and all the strings his hand gave breath
but one secret his heart kept hid,
round and round his fingers played,
and one string stayed mute,
mute to this day!
And it is sad, very sad!
All of her days this string moved,
mute she moved, mute she shook,
for her song, her beloved redeemer
she yearned, thirsted, grieved and longed
as a heart pines for its intended:
and though he hesitated each day she waited
and in a secret moan begged for him to come,
and he hesitated and never came,
never came!
And great, great is the pain!
There was a man-and see: he is no more,
and his life's song in mid-bar stopped,
one more song he had to go,
and now the song is gone for good,
gone for good!
poem by Hayyim Nahman Bialik
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More To Life
Free to turn like the wind on a Summer day
Heart worn like a ring around the moon
And your eyes are ablaze
Reflections of time passing by
That remind you there's much more to life
Than standing still
Or running from place to place in the heat of the day
Just follow your heart and you'll see ....
There's more to life
There beyond the horizon there's another day
Far above the pain and fear you feel
The power and the peace
The greatest sensation of all
There is much more to life than you'll ever know
The rise and fall, there'll always be you and me
We're moving as one
So follow your heart and you'll see ....
There's more to life
We all have our dreams
We all have our visions
But time after time we're faced with decisions
Which road to follow?
How hard to fight?
Then you wake up and see
That there's much more to life
Free in acres of sky on a Summer day
Fire that burns with hope inside your heart
We are never apart
Reflections of time passing by
That remind you there's much more to life
So just follow your heart and you'll see
If you follow your heart you'll be free
'Cos there's more to life
More to life
song performed by by Cliff Richard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pain reaches the heart with electrical speed, but truth moves to the heart as slowly as a glacier.
quote by Barbara Kingsolver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mercy
(Kurt Stevenson, Patrick Winningham, & Chris Boesel)
Originally recorded for the Georgia soundtrack
I got a feeling
of unrighteousness
bitter cold
hollow bitterness
down the road
I walk with loneliness
mercy will follow me I'm told
Beneath this skin
there lies a heart of stone
It's growing old
so very far, from home
but a heart of gold
I may someday own?
and mercy will follow me, I'm told
mercy will you follow me
mercy will you follow me
to the final breath at last I take
mercy will you follow me
mercy will you follow me
Till the chain of this old world I finally break.
My sister sang
songs so sweet and sad
bout a man
whos love I never had
there's a train
bound for gillian?
mercy will follow me I'm told
mercy will you follow me
mercy will you follow me
till my final breath at last I take
mercy will you follow me
mercy will you follow me
Till the chains of this old world I finally break
Till the chains of this old world I finally break
Till the chains of this old world I finally break
song performed by by Counting Crows
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Theres More To Life
Free to run like the wind on a summer day
Heart worn like a ring around the moon
And your eyes are ablaze
Reflections of time passing by
That remind you theres much more to life
Than standing still
Or running from place to place in the heat of
The day
Just follow your heart and youll see ...
Theres more to life
There beyond the horizon theres another day
Far above the pain and fear you feel
The power and the pace
The greatest sensation of all
Theres much more to life than youll ever know
The rise and fall, therell always be you and me
Were moving as one
So follow your heart and youll see ...
Theres more to life
We all have our dreams
We all have our visions
But time after time were faced with decisions
Which road to follow?
How hard to fight?
Then you wake up and see
That theres more to life
Free in acres of sky on a summer day
Fire that burns with hope inside your heart
We are never apart
Reflections of time passing by
That remind you theres much more to life
So follow your heart and youll see
If you follow your heart youll be free
cos theres more to life
So much more to life
More to life
song performed by by Cliff Richard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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