At The Other End Of The Telescope
the people are very small and shrink,
dwarves on the way to netsuke hell
bound for a flea circus in full
retreat toward sub-atomic particles--
difficult to keep in focus, the figures
at that end are nearly indistinguishable,
generals at the heads of minute armies
differing little from fishwives,
emperors the same as eskimos
huddled under improvisations of snow--
eskimos, though, now have the advantage,
for it seems to be freezing there, a climate
which might explain the population's
outré dress, their period costumes
of felt and silk and eiderdown,
their fur concoctions stuffed with straw
held in place with flexible strips of bark,
and all to no avail, the midgets forever
stamping their match-stick feet,
blowing on the numb flagella of their fingers--
but wait, bring a light, clean the lens....
can it be those shivering arms are waving,
are trying to attract attention, hailing you?
seen from the other end of the telescope,
your eye must appear enormous,
must fill the sky like a sun,
and as you occupy their tiny heads
naturally they wish to communicate,
to tell you of their diminishing perspective--
yes, look again, their hands are cupped
around the pinholes of their mouths,
their faces are swollen, red with effort;
why, they're screaming fit to burst,
though what they say is anybody's guess,
it is next to impossible to hear them,
and most of them speak languages
for which no Rosetta stone can be found--
but listen harder, use your imagination....
the people at the other end of the telescope,
are they trying to tell you their names?
yes, surely that must be it, their names
and those of those they love, and possibly
something else, some of them.... listen....
the largest are struggling to explain
what befell them, how it happened
that they woke one morning as if adrift,
their moorings cut in the night,
and were swept out over the horizon,
borne on an ebbing tide and soon
to be discernible only as distance,
collapsed into mirage, made to become
legendary creatures now off every map.
poem by George Bradley
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Related quotes
Faces & Names
Faces and names, I wish they were the same
Faces and names only cause trouble for me
Faces and names
If we all looked the same and we all had the same name
I wouldnt be jealous of you or you jealous of me
Faces and names
I always fall in love with someone who looks
The way I wish that I could be
Im always staring at someone who hurts
And the one they hurt is me
Faces and names, to me theyre all the same
If I looked like you and you looked like me
Thered be less trouble you see
Faces and names, I wish theyd go away
Id disappear into that wall and never talk
Talk, not talk
I wish I was a robot or a machine
Without a feeling or a thought
People who want to meet the name I have
Are always disappointed when they meet me
Faces and names, I wish they were the same
Faces and names only cause problems for me
Faces and names
Id rather be a hole in the wall
Looking out on the other side
Id rather look and listen, listen and not talk
To faces and names
If I had a breakdown when I was a kid
I lost my hair when I was young
If you dress older when youre not
As your really age you look the same
If we all looked the same, we wouldnt play these games
Me dressing for you and you dressing for me
Undressing for me
Faces and names, if they all were the same
You wouldnt be jealous of me or me jealous of you
Me jealous of you, me jealous of you
Your face and your name
Your face and your name
Faces and names
Faces and names
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Admit I Have Forgotten
When I was a much younger person,
It was difficult for me to listen...
With a paying of attention.
I was young, dumb and full of...
Ignorance I shared.
With those who became upset,
With decisions I made too late to correct.
Today,
I listen to everyone.
Whether what is said is solicited or not.
I even sit through people repeating themselves,
With hopes my raised eyebrow would send a clue...
I got the message two days ago.
And they 'still' continue.
Believing I am listening intently.
I've learned that one never knows,
What is being said today...
Will not apply one day.
Whenever that day arrives.
'Remember you told me to shut my mouth,
To listen years ago.
And I became offended,
Calling you some horrible and atrocious names? '
No.
I don't remember that.
What names did you call me?
How horrible and atrocious were they?
'Well...
I just wanted to say I am grateful to you.
And I feel even more blessed,
You have forgiven me.'
Wait a minute. Hold on.
What were those names you called me?
Help me remember.
Maybe I haven't forgiven you at all.
Although I admit I have forgotten.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Years Of Travel...
lover...
the tongue severed,
chopped in tiny pieces,
laid carefully in a box,
that sits silently screaming
on your shelf!
the heart does not know
faces or names,
is not bound by distance,
1000 miles, or 20 feet
across the room...
that seems even further.
we die a thousand deaths
at each other's feet.
love's crucifixions,
bodies wrapped in cloth,
and perfumed.
souls drawn to each other,
clothed, yet bare naked.
live wires touching,
that light up the night...
drinking the darkness that names!
intimate strangers,
are we ever any more?
even after years of travel,
so much we dont know...
even after years of travel!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Eskimos had fifty-two names for snow because it was important to them: there ought to be as many for love.
quote by Margaret Atwood
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Some things just can not be explained
how do you explain to somebody you like,
that something happened,
that you can't changed,
it makes you second guess ppl,
when they don't deserve it,
it makes them work harder,
to prove themselves to you,
that they are worth,
more than you are letting them,
but you keep them at a distance,
worry they will bite,
when you know they are a kitten,
sweet, loveable and loyal,
but that still don't stop you,
you keep your distance,
until there is an ocean,
between the two of you,
but when water rise,
there nothing you can do,
to save what you wanted,
you both drifted so far away,
even a life boat wont help you,
yet you remain lost,
in your thoughts,
and your body,
waiting for that day,
when you are able to feel again,
becuz even than,
you can't explain,
your fears and frustration you felt,
not know how to get it off or your chess,
and open up,
it just one of those things,
you don't know how to explain,
no matter how much practice you have.
poem by Mona Martinez
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Is It Any Wonder
Turn me down
To the ground
I want to feel the coolness on my face
Lie me down
Show me how
I can begin to hold you endlessly
I don't sleep
So I don't dream of leaving
And when I wake I face the night
And I don't speak
I listen to the breathing
I sometimes think I hear my fate
So is it any wonder
That I'm finding someone in this place here next to me
And is it any wonder
That we found each other
I've found another who meets the same
Is it any wonder
Don't explain by it's name
We write our words forever in the space
Who could say
Chance again
Chooses to bring together you and me
Now I don't sleep so I don't dream of leaving
I lie awake and face the night
I lie awake and dream of you
So is it any wonder
that I'm finding someone in this place here next to me
And is it and wonder that you made it here
We found another who meets the same
And is it any wonder that I'm finding someone in this place here next to me
Is it any wonder
that we found each other
We found another who meets the same
song performed by by Sophie Ellis Bextor from Read My Lips
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Listen, Lord: A Prayer
O Lord, we come this morning
Knee-bowed and body-bent
Before Thy throne of grace.
O Lord--this morning--
Bow our hearts beneath our knees,
And our knees in some lonesome valley.
We come this morning--
Like empty pitchers to a full fountain,
With no merits of our own.
O Lord--open up a window of heaven,
And lean out far over the battlements of glory,
And listen this morning.
Lord, have mercy on proud and dying sinners--
Sinners hanging over the mouth of hell,
Who seem to love their distance well.
Lord--ride by this morning--
Mount Your milk-white horse,
And ride-a this morning--
And in Your ride, ride by old hell,
Ride by the dingy gates of hell,
And stop poor sinners in their headlong plunge.
And now, O Lord, this man of God,
Who breaks the bread of life this morning--
Shadow him in the hollow of Thy hand,
And keep him out of the gunshot of the devil.
Take him, Lord--this morning--
Wash him with hyssop inside and out,
Hang him up and drain him dry of sin.
Pin his ear to the wisdom-post,
And make his words sledge hammers of truth--
Beating on the iron heart of sin.
Lord God, this morning--
Put his eye to the telescope of eternity,
And let him look upon the paper walls of time.
Lord, turpentine his imagination,
Put perpetual motion in his arms,
Fill him full of the dynamite of Thy power,
Anoint him all over with the oil of Thy salvation,
And set his tongue on fire.
And now, O Lord--
When I've done drunk my last cup of sorrow--
When I've been called everything but a child of God--
When I'm done traveling up the rough side of the mountain--
O--Mary's Baby--
When I start down the steep and slippery steps of death--
When this old world begins to rock beneath my feet--
Lower me to my dusty grave in peace
To wait for that great gittin'-up morning--Amen.
poem by James Weldon Johnson
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Dont Listen/ listen
Don't listen when they tell you that you can't be somebody well known someday
Don't listen
to the stupid remarks people say
Don't listen
when people spread rumors.
Listen
when people give you advise
Listen
when they try to bring you spirit high
Listen
because they always try to help you.
Don't listen
to the people who try to get you high
Don't listen
to the people who lie
Don't listen
to the people who tell you that your ugly.
Listen
to the people who make you smile
Listen
to the people and get to know them for a while
Listen
to the people for you may learn something everyday.
poem by Leticia Starkey
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Some People Listen Some People Don't
You judge me before my words can come out
You can’t even look my way
And you leave me with no doubt
You won’t listen to a word I say
And I will never be heard by you
No matter what it is that I do
Some people listen some people don’t
Some people listen some people won’t
You shut me up before I can speak
You shut me up so you can keep me weak
Now I breaking all your rules
That you have made just for me
To keep me away from my history
From my strength and my dignity
Some people listen some people don’t
Some people listen some people won’t
You don’t know how many times I have prayed
That you would hear the words that I have to say
Now get out of the way
Because we no longer have to stay in this prison of the mind
Because we find you guilty of the ultimate crime
Now get out of the way
So that they can hear what I have to say
And begin to make their plans for escape today
Even though you made me a thug,
It is out of love that I put my message out
Find your voice in school and follow the Golden Rule
And shout it out, with out a doubt
That you will be heard, until you are heard
Right down to the very last word
Some people listen some people don’t
Some people listen some people won’t
poem by Brian Kilpatrick
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Gods Of War!
you have made your gods
in your own image.
and so you follow war
to the brink of your own
extinction!
yet the mouths of the souls
that you starve and slaughter,
speak the names of the god
that you've forgotten!
she answers with faces,
faces you choose not to see!
you dig the graves of your children,
to feed the beast within!
you arm yourselves with moral justice,
dress the lie in prideful prejudice.
but the howl in the night
is not the wind!
it is the cry of the blood
on your hands!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Doubt shall not make an end of you
Doubt shall not make an end of you
nor closing eyes lose your shape
when the retina's light fades;
what dawns inside me will light you.
In our public lives we may confine ourselves to darkness,
our nowhere mouths explain away our dreams,
but alone we are incorruptible creatures,
our light sunk too deep to be of any social use
we wander free and perfect without moving
or love on hard carpets
where couples revolving round the room
end found at its centre.
Our love like a whale from its deepest ocean rises -
I offer this and a multitude of images
from party rooms to oceans,
the single star and all its reflections;
being completed we include all
and nothing wishes to escape us.
Beneath my hand your hardening breast agrees
to sing of its own nature,
then from a place without names our origin comes shivering.
Feel nothing separate then,
we have translated each other into light
and into love go streaming.
poem by Brian Patten
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People are always asking me about eskimos, but there are no eskimos in Iceland.
My Telescope
my hearts beating
noticably without warning
racing this tune
writing a poem
stuck in the underworld
forever starless night
light abandoned me
then I saw the stars in your eyes
you pulled me out
like a lifeguard
giving me back breath
awakening my soul
Now I see
A myriad of stars
I look up
I see you
Flashing and blinking
Your shooting
Across the night sky
In through
My telescope
My telescope
The universe
Has never looked so grand
In all my years now
Possibility floods in
Like molten lava
You branded me a new name
Now I see
A myriad of stars
I look up
I see you
Flashing and blinking
Your shooting
Across the night sky
In through
My telescope
My telescope
poem by Cokbod Lodwogo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Other End Of The Telescope (live)
Shall we agree that just this once
I'm going to change my life
Until it's just as tiny or important as you like
And in time we won't even remember we spoke
Words that turned out to be as big as smoke
A smoke that disappears into the air
There's always something smoldering somewhere
I know it don't make a difference to you
But oh! It sure made a difference to me
You'll see me off in the distance I hope
At the other end
At the other end of the telescope
The promise of indulgence in my confidential voice
Approached immortal danger but you'll never know how close
Then down the hall I overheard such a heavenly choir
They interrupted my evil designs
One day you are up in the clouds
The next thing you're down with the Sweet Adelines
I know it don't make a difference to you
But oh! It sure made a difference to me
You'll see me off in the distance I hope
At the other end
At the other end of the telescope
Lie down baby now
Don't say a word
There there baby your vision is blurred
Your head is so sore from all of that thinking
I don't want to hurt you know
But I think you're shrinking
You're half-naked ambition and half out of your wits
Or several tiny fractions that this portrait still omits
Now it's so hard to pick the receiver up when I call
I never noticed you could be so small
The answer was under your nose but the question never arose
I know it don't make a difference to you
But oh! It sure made a difference to me
You'll see me off in the distance I hope
'Cos late in the evening as I sit here moping
With a bamboo needle on a shellac of Chopin
And the cast-iron heart that you failed to tear open
At the other end
At the other end of the telescope
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Get Gone
hey, come in here for a minute
sit down
come here, cuz we gotta talk, ok
well, u just stay here for a little bit tonight
man, i need to go to sleep
yo, i want you try to understand somethin, ok?
now, just listen
And then again
You know I try to make it work,
but you and I
seems like I was always by myself
Like you didn't ever, ever wanna help
the strain you put on me, you let me down
can you tell me why, after all I've done for you and us
You know, I hate to say it, but I gotta tell you som'
I think I better leave you alone
So get your bags and get the hell on
see, because I don't want you no more
I don't want you no more
I think you better leave me alone
So get your bags, get the hell on, get gone
because love ain't here no more
I don't know if it hurts to hear me say all of these words,
but then again, I guess by now, I really don't care
Always thought that it could work
thought it could be, baby you and me
tell me, what happened to us?
Wait a minute, don't speak
Right now all I wanna see is you leavin
Leave me alone
Get your bags, get the hell on
Cuz I don't want you no more
Said I think you better leave me alone
Get your bags, get the hell on
Cuz love ain't here no more
See, I tried to do it right
Tried to make you see the light
All that I wanted, All that I needed, was you in my life
Havin broke down and for what?
Changed so many times, forgot who the real me was
But it's alright, I said it's cool
(wind down
song performed by by Ideal
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Too Many Of You In One Body
there are too many of you in one body
in one truth
too many faces
jibing with different names in different places
at first you may deceive
and even create surprises
but there is a time for discoveries
islands have been given
their names
marked with specific numbers like some specimens
of stuffed cats and dogs
and preserved amphibians
in the bottles
and here you are again
enticing me with a
wow
on another assumed name
i know it is you
and for what reason you wear so many faces
and have taken so many hands and feet
and so many pairs of eyes
i cannot guess anymore
but this i can say
from the deepest chambers of my heart
i care
i also know how to love
and it does not matter even
if you are one of the thousand illusions in my life
despite
there is only one you in my life
and i know
you also care
you also love
and that is all enough
my dear
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Their Main Focus And Purpose
Their main focus and purpose in life,
Is what's between somebody's legs.
Up their rear ends, in their mouths...
Size of chest, arms, thighs,
And caring less what is in their heads.
The outsourcing and downsizing done,
Effectively started with a dumbdowning first.
And for some reason,
The dysfunctions of the people have become prioritized...
As a way of perceiving themselves as normal 'creatures'.
With concerns as to who is straight giving that image,
And not one of them capable of providing proof...
A thought they have in their heads,
Originated as a result of their own initiative.
But quick they are to accept anything heard,
Or thrown in their faces as evidence that qualifies them...
As being no lost relative of Einstein.
Their noses are too smashed in the cracks,
Of other people's business.
So much so that trash has collected in stacks,
In their own homes.
With a cleaning of a stench that reeks as if,
Someone inside of it doesn't know a thing about hygiene.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Little Match Girl
It was biting cold, and the falling snow,
Which filled a poor little match girl's heart with woe,
Who was bareheaded and barefooted, as she went along the street,
Crying, "Who'll buy my matches? for I want pennies to buy some meat!"
When she left home she had slippers on;
But, alas! poor child, now they were gone.
For she lost both of them while hurrying across the street,
Out of the way of two carriages which were near by her feet.
So the little girl went on, while the snow fell thick and fast;
And the child's heart felt cold and downcast,
For nobody had bought any matchea that day,
Which filled her little mind with grief and dismay.
Alas! she was hungry and shivering with cold;
So in a corner between two houses she made bold
To take shelter from the violent storm.
Poor little waif! wishing to herself she'd never been born.
And she grew colder and colder, and feared to go home
For fear of her father beating her; and she felt woe-begone
Because she could carry home no pennies to buy bread,
And to go home without pennies she was in dread.
The large flakes of snow covered her ringlets of fair hair;
While the passers-by for her had no care,
As they hurried along to their homes at a quick pace,
While the cold wind blew in the match girl's face.
As night wore on her hands were numb with cold,
And no longer her strength could her uphold,
When an idea into her little head came:
She'd strike a match and warm her hands at the flame.
And she lighted the match, and it burned brightly,
And it helped to fill her heart with glee;
And she thought she was sitting at a stove very grand;
But, alas! she was found dead, with a match in her hand!
Her body was found half-covered with snow,
And as the people gazed thereon their hearts were full of woe;
And many present let fall a burning tear
Because she was found dead on the last night of the year,
In that mighty city of London, wherein is plenty of gold -
But, alas! their charity towards street waifs is rather cold.
But I hope the match girl's in Heaven, beside her Saviour dear,
A bright reward for all the hardships she suffered here.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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I Want All Of You
Written by donny brown and adam schlesinger
I want all of you
I want all of you
From your feet up to your mouth
Every inch of north and south
Ill keep calling you
Ill keep calling you
Wont you listen to me say
Dont you ever go away
Will you wait for me?
Will you wait for me?
Ill be waiting here for you
Anything that I can do
Will you think of me?
Will you think of me?
Whisper words into your ears
I will never bring you tears
I want all of you
(ah ah ah ah...)
You are everything
You are everything
From your elbows to your lips
Down your arms to fingertips
Ill be waiting here
Ill be waiting here
In the rain and bright sunshine
Wont you say that youll be mine
You are in my heart
You are in my heart
From the dusk into the light
Every day and every night
I want all of you
(ah ah ah ah...)
And when I see you smile
You can make the darkest day worthwhile
And when you look my way
I need you to believe me when I say
I want all of you
(ah ah ah ah...)
I love all of you
I love all of you
From your fingers to your toes
From your knees up to your nose
Ill be here for you
Ill be here for you
Anytime and any place
Just to see your pretty face
You are everything
You are everything
In my night and through my day
Would you listen to me say
Im in love with you
I am in love with you
I am in love with you...
song performed by by Verve Pipe
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Conversations With Hune
who names the flower a flower,
and the weed a weed?
and are not names
cardboard boxes
meant for the fire?
from the womb of darkness,
the sun reborn again and again...
each time with different faces,
different fingers, different hands...
or perhaps we see with different eyes!
do we speak the truth?
or doth the truth speak us?
perhaps 'we' are an illusion,
and there be only truth.
or perhaps truth is an illusion...
and we are only what we are...
what we are...
nameless particles of namelessness...
forms of the formless,
formless by nature.
words spoken by word,
or not spoken at all...
leaves fallen from the tree,
nests of straw left empty...
the sound one wing makes without the other,
the way air cries beaten by wings...
the sound the tree makes
when cut through by the saw...
the scream as it falls!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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