Spleen
(For Arthur Symons)
I was not sorrowful, I could not weep,
And all my memories were put to sleep.
I watched the river grow more white and strange,
All day till evening I watched it change.
All day till evening I watched the rain
Beat wearily upon the window pane
I was not sorrowful, but only tired
Of everything that ever I desired.
Her lips, her eyes, all day became to me
The shadow of a shadow utterly.
All day mine hunger for her heart became
Oblivion, until the evening came,
And left me sorrowful, inclined to weep,
With all my memories that could not sleep.
poem by Ernest Christopher Dowson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
But I Was Looking at the Permanent Stars
Bugles sang, saddening the evening air,
And bugles answered, sorrowful to hear.
Voices of boys were by the river-side.
Sleep mothered them; and left the twilight sad.
The shadow of the morrow weighed on men.
Voices of old despondency resigned,
Bowed by the shadow of the morrow, slept.
( ) dying tone
Of receding voices that will not return.
The wailing of the high far-travelling shells
And the deep cursing of the provoking ( )
The monstrous anger of our taciturn guns.
The majesty of the insults of their mouths.
poem by Wilfred Owen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Memory
The tangled twilight of your hair
Blew soft against my face,
Ah! We were young and you were fair,
This was the time
And this the place.
The river wound its way along
Beside yon almond tree;
And ever its evening song
It sang to you;
It sang to me.
To-night they told me you were dead,
And watched for me to weep.
‘I’ll sit beside this stream.’ I said
‘I’ll dream awhile,
and then – I’ll sleep.’
poem by Leon Gellert
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Growth
I watched the glory of her childhood change,
Half-sorrowful to find the child I knew,
(Loved long ago in lily-time),
Become a maid, mysterious and strange,
With fair, pure eyes - dear eyes, but not the eyes I knew
Of old, in the olden time!
Till on my doubting soul the ancient good
Of her dear childhood in the new disguise
Dawned, and I hastened to adore
The glory of her waking maidenhead,
And found the old tenderness within her deepening eyes,
But kinder than before.
poem by Ernest Christopher Dowson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Fiancee
Pass me the boat of kindness
which is laying at your heart alongside.
I want to sail to the Love country
crossing the ocean of jealousy
throw your eyes to the sky
as I have lost my way.
sing the dumb song sorrowful
which is sinking
my eyes are paining
and I feel that I am going to be blind
as I did not sleep for the last two thousand five hundred years.
I need a permanent sleep.
sing the dumb song sorrowful
which is sinking.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Naiads' Music: From A Faun's Holiday
Come, ye sorrowful, and steep
Your tired brows in a nectarous sleep:
For our kisses lightlier run
Than the traceries of the sun
By the lolling water cast
Up grey precipices vast,
Lifting smooth and waem and steep
Out of the palely shimmering deep.
Come, ye sorrowul, and take
Kisses that are but half awake:
For here are eyes O softer far
Than the blossom of the star
Upon the mothy twilit waters,
And here are mouths whose gentle laughters
Are but the echoes of the deep
Laughing and murmuring in its sleep.
Come, ye sorrowful, and see
The raindrops flaming goldenly
On the stream's eddies overhead
And dragonflies with drops of red
In the crisp surface of each wing
Threading slant rains that flash and sing,
Or under the water-lily's cup,
From darkling depths, roll slowly up
The bronze flanks of ancient bream
Into the hot sun's shattered beam,
Or over a sunk tree's bubbled bole
The perch stream in a golden shoal:
Come, ye sorrowful; our deep
Holds dreams lovelier than sleep.
But if ye sons of Sorrow come
Only wishing to be numb:
Our eyes are sad as bluebell posies,
Our breasts are soft as silken roses,
And our hands are tenderer
Than he breaths that scarce can stir
The sunlit eglantine that is
Murmurous with hidden bees.
Come, ye sorrowful, and steep
Your tired brows in a nectarous sleep.
Come, ye sorrowful, for here
No voices sound but fond and clear
Of mouths as lorn as is the rose
That under water doth disclose,
Amid her crimson petals torn,
A heart as golden as the morn;
And here are tresses langourous
As the weeds wander over us,
And brows as holy and as bland
As the honey-coloured sand
Lying sun-entranced below
The lazy water's limpid flow:
Come, ye sorrowful, and steep
Your tired brows in a nectorous sleep.
poem by Robert Nichols
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I am being watched..
Wherever I go, I am watched,
even to the loo, I am watched,
While driving the car,
crossing the signals,
Walking in the malls,
Talking in the halls,
I am watched.
When the smoking alarms go on,
I am watched.
When the traffic tickets issued,
I am watched.
When the bills are not paid,
I am watched.
When the bills are over due,
I am warned.
When my accounts are watched,
when my status is watched,
when my orientation is watched,
What freedom do I talk about?
When my finger prints are stored,
When my eyes are photographed,
When photographs are safe kept,
What freedom do I have?
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
At Glan-y-Wern
White-robed against the threefold white
Of shutter, glass and curtains' lace,
She flashed into the evening light
The brilliance of her gipsy face:
I saw the evening in her light.
Clear, from the soft hair to the mouth,
Her ardent face made manifest
The sultry beauty of the South:
Below, a red rose, climbing, pressed
Against the roses of her mouth.
So, in the window's threefold white,
O'ertrailed with foliage like a bower,
She seemed, against the evening light,
Amongst the flowers herself a flower,
A tiger-lily sheathed in white.
poem by Arthur Symons
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
In the evening of my life
In the evening of my life
I will not tire seeing the twinkling stars
I will remember some past lovers & friends
I will watch the beautiful moon sailing by
I will ponder upon its gold glowing in the sky
I will recollect some memories and
Treasure them again closer to my heart
I will not just watch people passing by
I wil be a humming bird who will fly
In the evening I will sit with you
By this window
I will hold your hand and feel it warm
I will not just be in the sidewalk waiting
I will still be your man still loving
In the evening of my life
I will take the blanket gently on my hip
And then take my soundest sleep.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Egrets
Once as I travelled through a quiet evening,
I saw a pool, jet-black and mirror-still.
Beyond, the slender paperbarks stood crowding;
each on its own white image looked its fill,
and nothing moved but thirty egrets wading -
thirty egrets in a quiet evening.
Once in a lifetime, lovely past believing,
your lucky eyes may light on such a pool.
As though for many years I had been waiting,
I watched in silence, till my heart was full
of clear dark water, and white trees unmoving,
and, whiter yet, those thirty egrets wading.
poem by Judith Wright
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I Will Remember You
Chorus:
I will remember you
Will you remember me?
Don't let your life pass you by
Weep not for the memories.
I'm so tired
I can't sleep
Standing on the edge of something
Much to deep.
It's funny how we feel so much
And cannot say a word
We're screaming inside
But we can't be heard
Chorus:
I will remember you
Will you remember me?
Don't let your life pass you by
Weep not for the memories.
So afraid to love you
More afraid to loose
Clinging to past
That doesn't let me choose.
Well, once there was a darkness
A deep and endless night
You gave me everything
You gave me light.
Chorus:
I will remember you
Will you remember me?
Don't let your life pass you by
Weep not for the memories.
Remember all
The good times that we had
Let them slip away from us
And things got bad.
Clearly I first saw you
Smiling in the sun
I want to feel your warmth
I want to be the one.
Chorus:
I will remember you
Will you remember me?
Don't let your life pass you by
Weep not for the memories.
Chorus:
I will remember you
Will you remember me?
Don't let your life pass you by
Weep not for the memories.
Weep not for the memories.
The memories...
song performed by by Kenny Rogers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
I lost My Sleep
I lost my sleep to the clouds bulging with rain,
or to the bright sun again,
enacting in a complicated act,
browsing over blissful facts,
I'm hiding this crooked alarm,
as little sleep will do no harm,
I badly need some sleep,
but my eyes are wide awake in memories deep,
should I laugh or should I weep,
or just wait till my eyes are asleep,
so many emotions fused,
extra-caffeine consumed
Dreams without sleep,
oh! what a hectic week! ! !
poem by Chettur Aishwarya Shrivastav
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I Watched
Pediatric E.R, R.I.P 11/5/09 (Volunteer work can be tough)
I watched…
A heartbreaking scene today
But I couldn’t take
my eyes away
I watched …
I feel shamed to say
I watched
a little girl die today
I watched …
an anguished EMT cry
I watched nurses drawn faces
I watched a little girl die
I watched …
Just outside the doors
The Frantic CPR applied
With frantic, futile force
I watched
Her mother fearfully enter the room
To be seated by her side
To share in her impending doom
I watched
A strange, unsettling scene
Upturned faces as if in prayer
hopefully watch the vitals screen
I watched
A life dissipate and fade
On a bed
That I had newly made
I watched…
At least a half hour they tried
With wondrous machines, marvelous medicines
Yet still, this little girl died
I watched…
Then I heard a small whimpering cry!
But It was only the mother
As she saw her child die
I watched…
Her arms outspread, her mom at her side
Young staring eyes so angelicly appealing
I watched, sadly watched….then I also cried.
poem by David Whalen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Poem Of The Evening Is A Quiet Poem
THE POEM OF THE EVENING IS A QUIET POEM
The poem of the evening is a quiet poem
It comes in gentleness with tired eyes
It does not know how long it will last
It believes a fresh breeze
And a simple song
Are all its needs
To feel happiness.
The poem of the evening this evening
Believes in life
Believes in Goodness of God
Believes it will somehow be alright.
The poem of the evening this evening
May be a foolish one
But it is a quietly happy one.
We need such poems sometimes
For life is hard in the long working days
And in the times of difficult idleness
When no dreams come.
Quiet and quiet
Soft as sleep
The poem of the evening this evening
Is a gentle one.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A joyous evening often leads to a sorrowful morning.
A joyful evening may follow a sorrowful morning.
Love and Sleep
I have laid sorrow to sleep;
Love sleeps.
She who oft made me weep
Now weeps.
I loved, and have forgot,
And yet
Love tells me she will not
Forget.
She it was bid me go;
Love goes
By what strange ways, ah! no
One knows.
Because I cease to weep,
She weeps.
Here by the sea in sleep,
Love sleeps.
poem by Arthur Symons
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
For Jack Osbourne (We Watched You Grow)
We watched you grow
from a child to a man
We watched you mature
into a kind and gentle soul
We watched you fight
your addictions and your lows
We watched your loving family
stand by your side
Now you watch the world
stand by you
as you fight your biggest fight
We watched you grow
poem by Dave Alan Walker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
You've Been Watched
You've been watched.
No matter what you think you have,
Or haven't got.
You've been watched a lot.
You've been watched.
No matter what you think you have,
Or haven't got.
You've been watched a lot.
Whenever you misbehave,
You've been watched a lot.
Whatever it is you say,
You've been watched a lot.
It would behoove if you,
Turned it up a notched.
You've been watched.
No matter what you think you have,
Or haven't got.
You've been watched a lot.
You've been watched.
No matter what you might have,
Or might have not.
You've been watched a lot.
There are snoopers dedicated.
You've been watched a lot.
No matter how careful you make it.
You've been watched a lot.
Even simple things you do...
They may say you do that too!
You've been watched.
No matter what you think you have,
Or haven't got.
You've been watched a lot.
You've been watched.
No matter what you think you have,
Or haven't got.
You are being watched nonstop.
There are snoopers dedicated.
You've been watched a lot.
No matter how careful you make it.
You've been watched a lot.
Even simple things you do...
They may say you do that too!
People are so fascinated,
They fantasize you being naked.
You've been watched,
Around the clock.
You are being watched...
Nonstop.
You've been watched,
Around the clock.
You are being watched...
Nonstop.
You've been watched,
Around the clock.
You are being watched...
Nonstop.
Nonstop.
You've been watched!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Clair de Lune
In the moonlit room your face,
Moonlight-coloured, fainting white,
And the silence of the place
Round about us in the night,
And my arms are round about you
In the silence of the night.
Lips that are not mine to kiss,
Lips how often kissed in vain,
Broken seal of memories,
Where the kisses come again
That the lips of all your lovers
Laid upon your lips in vain;
Eyes that are not mine to keep
In the mirror of mine eyes,
Where I tremble lest from sleep
Other ghosts should re-arise;
Why enthrall me with your magic,
Haunting lips, triumphant eyes?
For the silence of the night
Swims around me like a stream,
And your eyes have caught the light
Of a moon-enchanted dream,
And your arms glide round about me,
And I fade into a dream.
poem by Arthur Symons
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Airs for the Lute
I
When the sobbing lute complains,
Grieving for an ancient sorrow,
This poor sorrow that remains
Fain would borrow,
To give pleading unto sorrow,
Those uncapturable strains.
All, that hands upon the lute
Helped the voices to declare,
Voices mute
But for this, might I not share,
If, alas, I could but suit
Hand and voice unto the lute?
II
If time so sweetly
On true according viols make
Her own completely
The lawless laws of turn and shake;
How should I doubt then
Love, being tuned unto your mood,
Should bring about then
True time and measure of your blood?
III
Why are you sorrowful in dreams?
I am sad in the night;
The hours till morning are white,
I hear the hours' flight
All night in dreams.
Why do you send me your dreams?
For an old love's sake;
I dream if I sleep or wake,
And shall but one heart ache,
For the sake of dreams?
Pray that we sleep without dreams!
Ah, love, the only way
To put sorrow away,
Night or day, night or day,
From the way of dreams!
IV
Strange, to remember tears!
Yet I know that I wept;
And those hopes and those fears,
Strange, were as real as tears!
What's this delicate pain,
Twilight-coloured and grey?
Odour-like through my brain
Steals a shadowy pain.
What's this joy in the air?
Musical as the leaves,
When the white winds are there,
Faint joy breathes in the air.
poem by Arthur Symons
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!