The Beautiful Toilet
Blue, blue is the grass about the river
And the willows have overfilled the close garden.
And within, the mistress, in the midmost of her youth.
White, white of face, hesitates, passing the door.
Slender, she puts forth a slender hand;
And she was a courtezan in the old days,
And she has married a sot,
Who now goes drunkenly out
And leaves her too much alone.
poem by Ezra Pound
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Trees in the Garden
Ah in the thunder air
how still the trees are!
And the lime-tree, lovely and tall, every leaf silent
hardly looses even a last breath of perfume.
And the ghostly, creamy coloured little tree of leaves
white, ivory white among the rambling greens
how evanescent, variegated elder, she hesitates on the green grass
as if, in another moment, she would disappear
with all her grace of foam!
And the larch that is only a column, it goes up too tall to see:
and the balsam-pines that are blue with the grey-blue blueness of
things from the sea,
and the young copper beech, its leaves red-rosy at the ends
how still they are together, they stand so still
in the thunder air, all strangers to one another
as the green grass glows upwards, strangers in the silent garden.
poem by David Herbert Lawrence
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Floras Secret
Lovers in the long grass
Look above them
Only they can see
Where the clouds are going
Only to discover
Dust and sunlight
Ever make the sky so blue
Afternoon is hazy
River flowing
All around the sounds
Moving closer to them
Telling them the story
Told by flora
Dreams they never knew
Silver willows
Tears from persia
Those who come
From a far-off island
Winter chanterelle lies
Under cover
Glory-of-the-sun in blue
Some they know as passion
Some as freedom
Some they know as love
And the way it leaves them
Summer snowflake
For a season
When the sky above is blue
When the sky above is blue
Lying in the long grass
Close beside her
Giving her the name
Of the one the moon loves
This will be the day she
Will remember
When she knew his heart
Was
Loving in the long grass
Close beside her
Whispering of love
And the way it leaves them
Lying in the long grass
In the sunlight
They believe its true love
And from all around them
Floras secret
Telling them of love
And the way it breathes
And
Looking up from eyes of
Amaranthine
They can see the sky
Is blue
Knowing that their love
Is true
Dreams they never knew
And the sky above is blue
song performed by by Enya
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Flora's Secret
Lovers in the long grass
look above them
only they can see
where the clouds are going
only to discover
dust and sunlight
ever make the sky so blue
Afternoon is hazy
river flowing
all around the sounds
moving closer to them
telling them the story
told by flora
dreams they never knew
Silver willows
tears from Persia
those who come
from a far-off island
winter Chanterelle lies
under cover
Glory-of-the-sun in blue
Some they know as passion
some as freedom
some they know as love
and the way it leaves them
summer snowflake
for a season
when the sky above is blue
when the sky above is blue
Lying in the long grass
close beside her
giving her the name
of the one the moon loves
this will be the day she
will remember
when she knew his heart
was
loving in the long grass
close beside her
whispering of love
and the way it leaves them
lying in the long grass
in the sunlight
they believe it's true love
and from all around them
flora's secret
telling them of love
and the way it breathes
and
looking up from eyes of
amaranthine
they can see the sky
is blue
knowing that their love
is true
dreams they never knew
and the sky above is blue
song performed by by Enya from A Day Without Rain
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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King Is White And In The Crowd
Talking by the pool of light, language from Americ.
a
She puts on the film of him, King is white and in the crowd
They are not a melting pot, say no, say no tapestry
She puts on the film of him, King is white and in the crowd
She takes his hand and she says you'll stay
She's lost in the crowd
King
Wire them up, fire them up
The life and times, the art and talk
Wire them up, fire them up
The life and times, the art and talk
Lovers run camp Africa, Bars in town are civilised
She puts on the film of him, King is white and in the crowd
Panorama, Citylife
Youth's dance proud from the waist down
She puts on the film of him, King is white and in the crowd
Shot from where the action is, a rhapsody in black and blue
She puts on the film of him, King is white and in the crowd
Love lies under western eyes, powerful yet transient
She puts on the film of him, King is white and in the crowd
song performed by by Simple Minds
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I’m going to Blue Dimension
I’m going to blue dimension
Thru my own magic door
It’s truly a comprehension
And borderline of life’s seashore
In times on passing by
And giving its heart content
It opens to the blue sky
When feeling are in relent
It shows you the magic hours
And all that you can give
Its grass is of wild and flowers
That you on truly must live
To enjoy the moments they make
In magic that is passing on
When you from its dreams awake
It never is really gone
So open your blue dimension door
To see what is there inside
And what’s in your heart’s lore
In thoughts you did put aside
There are moments of their truth
In everything that we all do
It’s magic of infinity youth
As days come and get on thru
poem by Peter S. Quinn
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The Difference Between A Rooster And A Man
on the grass i see this rooster wearing a thick red comb,
tall for its lowly status, and well muscled as may be gleaned from the
thickness of its black, red and white feathers
how can he notice me stopping by to observe it
when its attention is focused on two slender hens
one is red the other white getting near it
and without any inhibition at all he copulated on each
of those two slender hens, quickly as a quickie
i can imagine in a few days, the two hens cackle with
lots of eggs for the owner now prepared with a big basket
to bring the produce to a crowded market
if i as a man does what a rooster does, you very well know
what happens next
it will be the people of this republic v. ric
and his dismissal from the government service
it makes me think however, on the other hand, the happiness of
the owner selling more eggs in the market because the rooster
had been kind and obliging to the two hens and the other hens in the yard
what about it God?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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King Is White & In The Crowd
Talking by the pool of light, language from america.
She puts on the film of him, king is white and in the crowd
They are not a melting pot, say no, say no tapestry
She puts on the film of him, king is white and in the crowd
She takes his hand and she says youll stay
Shes lost in the crowd
King
Wire them up, fire them up
The life and times, the art and talk
Wire them up, fire them up
The life and times, the art and talk
Lovers run camp africa, bars in town are civilised
She puts on the film of him, king is white and in the crowd
Panorama, citylife
Youths dance proud from the waist down
She puts on the film of him, king is white and in the crowd
Shot from where the action is, a rhapsody in black and blue
She puts on the film of him, king is white and in the crowd
Love lies under western eyes, powerful yet transient
She puts on the film of him, king is white and in the crowd
Words & music : simple minds (c) emi publishing ltd reproduced without permission
song performed by by Simple Minds
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Final Painting
The white cloud passed over the land
there is sea always round the land
the sky is blue always above the cloud
the cloud in the blue continues to move
- nothing is limited by the canvas or frame -
the white cloud can be pictured like any
other clouds or like a fist of wool
or a white fur rose
The white cloud passes a shadow across
the landscape and so there is a passing greyness
The grey and the white both envelop
the watcher until he too is drawn into the picture
It is all a journey from a room through a door
down stairs and out into the street
The cloud could possess the house
The watchers have a mutual confidence
with the approaching string of white clouds
It is beyond spoken words what they are
silently mouthing to the sky
There was no mystery in this - only the firm
outline of people in overcoats on a hillside
and the line of clouds above them
The sky is blue The cloud white with touches
of grey - the rest - the landscape below -
can be left to the imagination
The whole painting quietly dissolved itself
into its surrounding clouds
poem by Lee Harwood
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Invocation II
COME to-night in a dream to-night,
Come as you used to do,
Come in the gown, in the gown of white,
Come in the ribbon of blue;
Come in the virgin's colours you wear,
Come through the dark and the dew,
Come with the scent of the night in your hair,
Come as you used to do.
Blue and white of your eyes and your face,
White of your gown and blue,
Will you not come from the happy place,
Come as you used to do?
Tears so many, so many tears
Where there were once so few--
Can they not wash the gray of the years
From the white of your gown and blue?
poem by Edith Nesbit
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Little Girl Blue
(RodgersHart)
When I was very young
The world was younger than I
As merry as a carousel
The circus tent was strong with every star in the sky
Above the ring I loved so well
Now the young world has grown old
Gone are the tinsel and the gold
Sit there and count your fingers
What can you do old girl, you're through
Sit there and count your little fingers
Unlucky little girl blue
Sit there and count the raindrops
Falling on you
It's time that you knew
All you can count on is the raindrops
That fall on little girl blue
No use old girl you may as well surrender
You hope is getting slender
Why won't somebody send a tender blue boy
To cheer a little girl blue
No use old girl you may aswell surrender
Your hope is getting slender
Why won't somebody lend a tender
Blue boy to cheer a little girl blue
song performed by by Carly Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Passing Through
I saw jesus on the cross on a hill called calvary
Do you hate mankind for what they done to you?
He said, talk of love not hate, things to do - its getting late.
Ive so little time and Im only passing through.
Passing through, passing through.
Sometimes happy, sometimes blue,
Glad that I ran into you.
Tell the people that you saw me passing through.
I saw adam leave the garden with an apple in his hand,
I said now youre out, what are you going to do?
Plant some crops and pray for rain, maybe raise a little cane.
Im an orphan now, and Im only passing through.
Passing through, passing through ...
I was with washington at valley ford, shivering in the snow.
I said, how come the men here suffer like they do?
Men will suffer, men will fight, even die for what is right
Even though they know theyre only passing through
Passing through, passing through ...
I was with franklin roosevelts side on the night before he died.
He said, one world must come out of world war two (ah, the fool)
Yankee, russian, white or tan, he said, a man is still a man.
Were all on one road, and were only passing through.
Passing through, passing through ...
(lets do it one more time)
Passing through, passing through ...
song performed by by Leonard Cohen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Smiles the choice of rose hips hue
Who brings me the tears of rainbows blue?
And smiles the choice of rose hips hue
that brings to me the moons gentle dew?
With kisses soft; as slender new.
Who brings me the laughter of bluebells white?
And dances those greens; like a garden sprite.
That brings to me the azure mornings light?
Like a thistledown angel; lost in flight.
Who brings me a meadows flowing flaxen hair!
And whispering words spellbinding without a care
that brings too me a same sense of wonders rare?
Like woodland lilies under a leaf mould layer.
Who brings me the moons gentle dew..?
With kisses soft; as slender new..?
With smiles the choice of rose hips-hue.
Why; yes, my child it’s you!
poem by Mark Heathcote
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The First of May ( A Memory)
THE WATERS make a music low:
The river reeds
Are trembling to the tunes of long ago—
Dead days and deeds
Become alive again, as on
I float, and float,
Through shadows of the golden summers gone
And springs remote.
Above my head the trees bloom out
In white and red
Great blossoms, that make glad the air about;
And old suns shed
Their rays athwart them. Ah, the light
Is bright and fair!
No suns that shine upon me now are bright
As those suns were.
And, gazing down into the stream,
I see a face,
As sweet as buds that blossom in a dream,
Ere sorrows chase
Fair dreams from men, and send in lieu
Sad thoughts. A wreath
Of blue-bells binds the head—a bluer blue
The eyes beneath.
This is my little Annie’s face;
My child-sweetheart
Whom long ago I lost in that dark place
Where all lives part.
Beside me still I see her stand,
Who is no more.
She walked with me through childhood, hand in hand,
But at the door
Of youth departed from me. Fain
Was I that day
To go with her. Ah, sweetheart, come again
This First of May!
poem by Victor James Daley
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Blue Evening
My restless blood now lies a-quiver,
Knowing that always, exquisitely,
This April twilight on the river
Stirs anguish in the heart of me.
For the fast world in that rare glimmer
Puts on the witchery of a dream,
The straight grey buildings, richly dimmer,
The fiery windows, and the stream
With willows leaning quietly over,
The still ecstatic fading skies . . .
And all these, like a waiting lover,
Murmur and gleam, lift lustrous eyes,
Drift close to me, and sideways bending
Whisper delicious words.
But I
Stretch terrible hands, uncomprehending,
Shaken with love; and laugh; and cry.
My agony made the willows quiver;
I heard the knocking of my heart
Die loudly down the windless river,
I heard the pale skies fall apart,
And the shrill stars' unmeaning laughter,
And my voice with the vocal trees
Weeping. And Hatred followed after,
Shrilling madly down the breeze.
In peace from the wild heart of clamour,
A flower in moonlight, she was there,
Was rippling down white ways of glamour
Quietly laid on wave and air.
Her passing left no leaf a-quiver.
Pale flowers wreathed her white, white brows.
Her feet were silence on the river;
And "Hush!" she said, between the boughs.
poem by Rupert Brooke (1909)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Little Girl Blue
When I was very young
The world was younger than i
As merry as a carousel
The circus tent was strung
With every star in the sky
Above the ring I loved so well
Now the young world has grown old
Gone are the tinsel and gold
Sit there, and count your fingers
What can you do?
Old girl, youre through
Sit there, and count your little fingers
Unlucky, litle girl blue
Sit there, and count the raindrops
Falling on you
Its time you knew
All you can count on is the raindrops
That fall on little girl blue
No use, old girl
You may as well surrender
Your hope is getting slender
Why wont somebody send a tender
Blue boy
To cheer little girl blue?
No use, old girl
You may as well surrender
Your hope is getting slender
Why wont somebody send a tender
Blue boy
To cheer little girl blue?
song performed by by Ella Fitzgerald
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Behind the Bronze Door
When we were negative three or four
we'd play back behind the heavy bronze door
in white linen dresses and silver shoes
our eyes swirled infinity in blue-green hues
Sunbeams shot out through our skin
while harp and lute softened the din
and there was no such thing as pain
and dreams stayed watered by invisible rain
You'd lead me by your slender hand
to the lake of life with it's daffodil sand
saying 'Stay awhile and if you please,
we'll share ladyfingers and cucumber tea'
Then down to the water with me in tow
to the middle of the lake we'd row and row
where imaginary things chased our innocence
through thick green fog and wispy mists
And frightened I would want to leave
tugging at your pure white linen sleeve
to abandon fate as worry and fear
made me think that 'they' were drawing near
But you would never row away
and by the close of the foray
you'd wrapped them in your wings of love
descending on them like a holy dove
Then soon our make believe would cease
they'd surrender to us in placid peace
And we'd make them our friends forevermore
And we'd all live ever happy
back behind the bronze door
poem by Sara Fielder
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0377 Should be, but
I should be writing a poem
about those small wisps of white cloud
moving unusually fast across a blue blue sky
on their way to somewhere else
as if they're late for an appointment.
I should be writing a poem
about the way the breeze is so gentle
that it seems to have a secret plan with the sun
and the new green leaves
to do something quite extraordinary.
I should be writing a poem
about the way that the trailing geranium leaves
are giving out a scent more white than green
more heavenly than any thought.
I should be writing a poem
about the way that the purple and blue and yellow and white flowers
seem to say nothing but beauty.
I should be writing a poem
but all I can do is gaze in amazement
at what I've seen before
and never seen before.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Blue Christmas
(words & music by billy hayes - jay johnson)
Ill have a blue christmas without you
Ill be so blue just thinking about you
Decorations of red on a green christmas tree
Wont be the same dear, if youre not here with me
And when those blue snowflakes start falling
Thats when those blue memories start calling
Youll be doin all right, with your christmas of white
But Ill have a blue, blue blue blue christmas
(instrumental break)
Youll be doin all right, with your christmas of white,
But Ill have a blue, blue christmas
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Blue and White
BLUE is Our Lady’s colour,
White is Our Lord’s.
To-morrow I will wear a knot
Of blue and white cords,
That you may see it, where you ride
Among the flashing swords.
O banner, white and sunny blue,
With prayer I wove thee!
For love the white, for faith the heavenly hue,
And both for him, so tender-true,
Him that doth love me!
poem by Mary Elizabeth Coleridge
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Little Girl Blue
Richard rodgers, lorenz hart
Sit there and count your fingers
What can you do
Old girl youre through
Sit there, count your little fingers
Unhappy little girl blue.
Sit there and count the raindrops
Falling on you
Its time you knew
All you can ever count on
Are the raindrops
That fall on little girl blue
Wont you just sit there
Count the little raindrops
Falling on you
cause its time you knew
All you can ever count on
Are the raindrops
That fall on little girl blue
No use old girl
You might as well surrender
cause your hopes are getting slender and slender
Why wont somebody send a tender blue boy
To cheer up little girl blue
song performed by by Nina Simone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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