To Alex. Smith, The 'Glasgow Poet,' On His Sonnet To 'Fame
Not vainly doth the earnest voice of man
Call for the thing that is his pure desire!
Fame is the birthright of the living lyre!
To noble impulse Nature puts no ban.
Nor vainly to the Sphinx thy voice was raised!
Tho' all thy great emotions like a sea,
Against her stony immortality,
Shatter themselves unheeded and amazed.
Time moves behind her in a blind eclipse:
Yet if in her cold eyes the end of all
Be visible, as on her large closed lips
Hangs dumb the awful riddle of the earth; -
She sees, and she might speak, since that wild call,
The mighty warning of a Poet's birth.
poem by George Meredith
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Call On Me
Caught in the crossbow of ideas and journeys
sit here reliving the other self's mournings
Caught in the crossbow of ideas and dawnings
stand I
Oh oh oh oh
Reliving the past of the maddening impulse
violent upheaval, the pure driven instinct
The pure driven murder, the attraction of daring
stand I
Why didn't you call on me
why didn't you call on me
Why didn't you call on me
why didn't you call
[Rowena:]
A wild being from birth
my spirit spurns control
wondering the wide earth
searching for my soul
Dimly peering
I would surely find
what could there be more purely bright
in truth's day-star
Ooohhh
Why didn't you call on me
why didn't you call, call on me
Why didn't you call on me
why didn't you call
Why didn't you call on me
why didn't you call on me
Why didn't you call on me
why didn't you call
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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True drive hardly dies
When we were under a roof,
We spoke by eyes, lips dumb.
Now away, unseen each other,
We see by voice, eyes blind.
Afar, I see you by your words
Like a blind sees by his limbs.
30.04.2001, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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To Philip Bourke Marston, Inciting Me To Poetic Work
SWEET Poet, thou of whom these years that roll
Must one day yet the burdened birthright learn,
And by the darkness of thine eyes discern
How piercing was the sight within thy soul;—
Gifted apart, thou goest to the great goal,
A cloud-bound radiant spirit, strong to earn,
Light-reft, that prize for which fond myriads yearn
Vainly light-blest,—the Seër's aureole.
And doth thine ear, divinely dowered to catch
All spheral sounds in thy song blent so well,
Still hearken for my voice's slumbering spell
With wistful love? Ah! let the Muse now snatch
My wreath for thy young brows, and bend to watch
Thy veiled transfiguring sense's miracle.
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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Blind Leading The Blind
Blind leading the blind
I tried to explain colors to a person who could not see
But I found it was too hard for me.
Then a thought came into my mind
To put their feelings into color and rhyme.
The first question I asked is:
WHAT DO YOU FEEL ABOUT “LOVE”?
“I feel like I’m flying high above the sky”
Then I will call that GREEN
For high above the earth, that color is seen.
WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT
WHEN YOU’RE FEELING “DOWN”?
It’s when I have no one to talk to and no one around.
Then I will call that BROWN.
WHAT ABOUT “SADNESS”?
That is when I lost something that cannot be replaced.
Then I will call that “GREY” for that
Is something which in your heart will stay.
WHAT ABOUT “LAUGHTER”?
That is when my stomach shakes like Jell-O.
Then I will call that emotion “YELLOW”
Then the final question I must ask
WHAT ABOUT GOD?
That is when I am lifted high above
All that I think and feel.
Since GOD is pure, I will call it white
Because he puts your heart and soul into flight.
“ we have enough colors for different emotions
Just like the raindrops that fall into the ocean.
Now the colors no longer have a barrier, because now
It has an emotional carrier.
Emotions and colors go hand in hand, just like the joining
In a wedding band.
poem by Louis Rams
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Every Living Thing Barring Mother Nature
They may be very famous people and leave their footprints in the sands of time
And their legends may live on for centuries and even outlive the poet's rhyme
But their fame won't live on forever though them the masses celebrate
For every living thing barring Mother Nature has on it set a time date.
Every living thing barring Mother Nature will eventually go into decay
And even from history's pages be lost and forgotten one day
Suppose that's what makes all things equal and whether we are buried or burn
Mother Nature is there to receive us and to her bosom we'll return.
All of my best years behind me and I've lived most of my time span
Less than two years short of sixty soon I will be an old man
Every day nearer the last day that is the end for us all
To us then it will not matter if the living our names won't recall.
Every living thing barring Mother Nature must bow to old father time
And though the achievements of some great people may outlive the great poet's rhyme
Their fame has on it a time date it has often been said before
That only herself Mother Nature will live on forever more.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Anselmo
Years did I vainly seek the good Lord's grace--,
Prayed, fasted, and did penance dire and dread;
Did kneel, with bleeding knees and rainy face,
And mouth the dust, with ashes on my head;
Yea, still with knotted scourge the flesh I flayed,
Rent fresh the wounds, and moaned and shrieked insanely;
And froth oozed with the pleadings that I made,
And yet I prayed on vainly, vainly, vainly!
A time, from out of swoon I lifted eye,
To find a wretched outcast, gray and grim,
Bathing my brow, with many a pitying sigh,
And I did pray God's grace might rest on him--.
Then, lo! A gentle voice fell on mine ears--
'Thou shalt not sob in suppliance hereafter;
Take up thy prayers and wring them dry of tears,
And lift them, white and pure with love and laughter!'
So is it now for all men else I pray;
So is it I am blest and glad alway.
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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You Hear Nature's Voice
You hear Nature's voice in the river that ever flows on towards the sea
A voice destined to live forever that has lived for untold centuries
From the foothills of the high country it babbles downhill night and day
By groves and by ditches and hedgerows to saltwater it winds it's way.
You hear Nature's voice in her birdsong their music carrying in the breeze
The sounds that the freshening winds make rustling in the leaves of the trees
Some of the happier sounds of Nature though to Nature there's another side
When Nature she shouts out her anger all others from her seek a safe place to hide.
When Nature she grows very angry the fear of the World is in her cry
She shakes the Earth flattens great buildings she roars and her lightning flashes in the sky
She crackles when her forests burn leaving blackness and smoke everywhere
With the power of Nature in a fury none other can hope to compare.
You hear Nature's voice in all Seasons Winter, Spring and Summer and Fall
And you hear Nature's voice in the night-time when her nocturnal creatures do call
Nature's voice will live on forever 'tis something not destined to die
As Nature herself does not have a time span as such are for mortals such as I.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Despair
Alone! Alone! No beacon, far or near!
No chart, no compass, and no anchor stay!
Like melting fog the mirage melts away
In all-surrounding darkness, void and clear.
Drifting, I spread vain hands, and vainly peer
And vainly call for pilot, -- weep and pray;
Beyond these limits not the faintest ray
Shows distant coast whereto the lost may steer.
O what is life, if we must hold it thus
As wind-blown sparks hold momentary fire?
What are these gifts without the larger boon?
O what is art, or wealth, or fame to us
Who scarce have time to know what we desire?
O what is love, if we must part so soon?
poem by Ada Cambridge
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Midnight
Unfathomable Night! how dost thou sweep
Over the flooded earth, and darkly hide
The mighty city under thy full tide;
Making a silent palace for old Sleep,
Like his own temple under the hush'd deep,
Where all the busy day he doth abide,
And forth at the late dark, outspreadeth wide
His dusky wings, whence the cold waters sweep!
How peacefully the living millions lie!
Lull'd unto death beneath his poppy spells;
There is no breath—no living stir—no cry
No tread of foot—no song—no music-call—
Only the sound of melancholy bells—
The voice of Time—survivor of them all!
poem by Thomas Hood
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I Hear Your Voice
So many nights thought that I was doing fine
Thought that time had chased your picture from my mind
So many times thought my heart was finally strong
Now I find this heart of mine was so wrong
I thought Id finally learned to get on with my life
I hear your voice-(call)
Your voice (call)
Your voice (call)
The way it used to do
I feel my heart (fall)
I try to keep you off my mind
But every time I do, I hear your voice
So many days I thought that I could love again
But any fool in love would know thats all pretend
You always seem to find your way
Back in my dreams and I cant break free
Chorus
You know I tried so many times just to forget you
Ive tried to walk away from you
Oh girl, its just no use
I hear your voice (call)
Your voice (call)
Your voice (call)
Calling me.. calling me the way...
I feel my heart (fall)
I try to keep you off my mind
But every time I do,
I hear your voice
I hear your voice
I hear your voice
song performed by by Lionel Richie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Licia Sonnets 05
Love with her hair my love by force hath tied,
To serve her lips, her eyes, her voice, her hand;
I smiled for joy, when I the boy espied
To lie unchained and live at her command.
She if she look, or kiss, or sing, or smile,
Cupid withal doth smile, doth sing, doth kiss,
Lips, hands, voice, eyes, all hearts that may beguile,
Because she scorns all hearts but only this.
Venus for this in pride began to frown
That Cupid, born a god, enthralled should be.
She in disdain her pretty son threw down,
And in his place, with love she chainéd me.
So now, sweet love, though I myself be thrall,
Not her a goddess, but thyself I call.
poem by Giles Fletcher The Elder
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Standing Next To You
Take me to a better place.
One more honest.
One more pure.
One that puts me on top of the heavens.
Looking down upon everything and everyone.
Keep me from saving face.
Admitting a terrible mistake that I have made.
To everything and everyone.
Why it can't be a simple dream?
One that you can simply grab out and reach.
And the one standing next to you.
Please guide me to where it is we're suppose go.
Because I just don't know yet if I am going make it.
Take me to a better place.
One more honest.
One more pure.
One that puts me on top of the heavens.
Looking down upon everything and everyone.
Let the existence be true.
Please don't let it fall through.
With hope as my prayer.
Let it take wings.
In place I've never seen and probably will never be.
For a too large a distance divides.
An impenetrable barrier resides.
Only my voice survives.
It glides through a sequence of mazes.
Sometimes I think something gets lost in the translation.
But one way or another.
Take me to a better place.
One more honest.
One more pure.
One that puts me on top of the heavens.
Looking down upon everything and everyone.
Its not any ones fault and I don't blame any of you.
I'll do what is needed.
Not because I have to.
Or in anyway need to.
Without reluctance sometimes still choices are made.
Living among life without life.
The body breaths but does it move.
Take me to a better place.
One more honest.
One more pure.
One that puts me on top of the heavens.
Looking down upon everything and everyone.
Take me to a better place.
One more honest.
One more pure.
One that puts me on top of the heavens.
Looking down upon everything and everyone.
Because right now I'm without you.
Right Now, Right Now, I Am Without You.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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What A Scary Thing
It is quite a fearful thing
When you're in the presence of the King
What a scary event
When you realize this body is just a tent
It is fearful to hear the voice of God
We say we want signs
We say we want miracles
Atheists say they want God to speak
But they, and we, know not what we ask
To hear Almighty God
This voice is still and small
But it sways the hearts of men
It demands action
Do you really want Him to speak?
Can you handle what He'll say?
Almighty God's voice
What a scary and awesome power
The voice that called the universe to be
Is the voice that's calling me
The voice that's calling you
I don't think you know what this means
This demands our lives
Our souls
Our everything
Are you ready for this voice?
Will you answer the call?
Now you know what you ask
So don't ask amiss
Know that you appeal to the greatest power
Of all
Humble yourself before Christ
And then boldly approach the throne of grace
That is all that you ask when you ask
To hear God
So be careful
The voice of God
What a scary thing!
And yet what a loving voice
Absolutely perfect
Love
Amen
poem by David Knox
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Living For You
There was a time when I believed in anything but you. I closed my eyes and let you in, ready to let my life begin. It just hit me, couldnt have known it. Your voice calling out I know it.
Chorus:
I want to see your face. I want to speak your name. I want to tell the whole world how my life has changed. I want to lift my voice ever to sing your praise. As long as Im alive, I know that Im living for you.
Youre here I stand before but now I want to give you everything. No matter what may come my way. You give me a smile they cant take away. Holding on to all you put me through, through the strength that Ill always cling to.
Chorus
Some one question what is right, in my heart I cant deny. Once I was blind but now I see, you have a soul and I am yours for eternity .
O Lord I want to see your face, I always want to sing your praise. I want to be the first to say Im living, Im living for only you.
Chorus (4x)
song performed by by ZoeGirl
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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From ‘The Soul’s Travelling’
God, God!
With a child’s voice I cry,
Weak, sad, confidingly—
God, God!
Thou knowest, eyelids, raised not always up
Unto Thy love (as none of ours are), droop
As ours, o’er many a tear!
Thou knowest, though Thy universe is broad,
Two little tears suffice to cover all:
Thou knowest, Thou, who art so prodigal
Of beauty, we are oft but stricken deer
Expiring in the woods—that care for none
Of those delightsome flowers they die upon.
O blissful Mouth which breathed the mournful breath
We name our souls, self-spoilt!—by that strong passion
Which paled Thee once with sighs,—by that strong death
Which made Thee once unbreathing—from the wrack
Themselves have called around them, call them back,
Back to Thee in continuous aspiration!
For here, O Lord,
For here they travel vainly,—vainly pass
From city-pavement to untrodden sward,
Where the lark finds her deep nest in the grass
Cold with the earth’s last dew. Yea, very vain
The greatest speed of all these souls of men
Unless they travel upward to the throne
Where sittest THOU, the satisfying ONE,
With help for sins and holy perfectings
For all requirements—while the archangel, raising
Unto Thy face his full ecstatic gazing,
Forgets the rush and rapture of his wings.
poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
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Heaven And Earth #2
when i look to the heavens and see the beauties of the sky
then i know the reason why.
why i was put on this earth, and why to me
my mother gave birth.
she gave me birth so that i can see
all the beauties that GOD put here for me.
heaven and earth are in unison as one
just like the sky is to the sun.
just like the crops are to the soil
through mans sacrifice and toil.
here on earth the LORD has said
is where you'll come to rest your head.
but in my kingdom of heaven
what you thought was impossibilities
'you now will see' living in immortality.
you will no longer have the human frailities
and emotions such as hate, envy, sadness
bitterness, sickness, desires
they will all go away, but other things will stay
such as love, joy, happiness
and a desire to help others
we have left behind.
in hopes that they could find the meanings
of the words that GOD has spoken
and pull out those inner emotions.
HEAVEN AND EARTH IS HERE AND NOW
IN YOUR HEART- IT WILL BE FOUND.
poem by Louis Rams
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On The Final Submission Of The Tyrolese
IT was a 'moral' end for which they fought;
Else how, when mighty Thrones were put to shame,
Could they, poor Shepherds, have preserved an aim,
A resolution, or enlivening thought?
Nor hath that moral good been 'vainly' sought;
For in their magnanimity and fame
Powers have they left, an impulse, and a claim
Which neither can be overturned nor bought.
Sleep, Warriors, sleep! among your hills repose!
We know that ye, beneath the stern control
Of awful prudence, keep the unvanquished soul:
And when, impatient of her guilt and woes,
Europe breaks forth; then, Shepherds! shall ye rise
For perfect triumph o'er your Enemies.
poem by William Wordsworth
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Fame That Destroyed The Poet
To be poet you must have desire to understand in all things large and small.
Even what being poet means after all.
Fame is hardly lived by those who are truly great.
In fame we all wish to embrace.
Some desire it more then others.
But an expectation of the best will only smother.
Extinguish a flame that yet needs to grow.
A burning of such a unique cloth.
The embers begin glow as the material turns to ash.
And something you had is gone just like that.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Truly Great
My walls outside must have some flowers,
My walls within must have some books;
A house that's small; a garden large,
And in it leafy nooks.
A little gold that's sure each week;
That comes not from my living kind,
But from a dead man in his grave,
Who cannot change his mind.
A lovely wife, and gentle too;
Contented that no eyes but mine
Can see her many charms, nor voice
To call her beauty fine.
Where she would in that stone cage live,
A self-made prisoner, with me;
While many a wild bird sang around,
On gate, on bush, on tree.
And she sometimes to answer them,
In her far sweeter voice than all;
Till birds, that loved to look on leaves,
Will doat on a stone wall.
With this small house, this garden large,
This little gold, this lovely mate,
With health in body, peace in heart--
Show me a man more great.
poem by William Henry Davies
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Baby's Birthday
G.T.A.
BEFORE your life that is to come,
Love stands with eager eyes, that vainly
Seek to discern what gift may fit
The slow unfolding years of it;
And still Time's lips are sealed and dumb,
And still Love sees no future plainly.
We cannot guess what flowers will spring
Best in your garden, bloom most brightly;
But some fair flowers in any plot
Will spring and grow, and wither not;
And such wish-flowers we gladly bring,
And in that small hand lay them lightly.
Baby, we wish that those dear eyes
May see fulfilment of our dreaming,
Those little feet may turn from wrong,
Those hands to hold the right be strong,
That heart be pure, that mind be wise
To know the true from the true-seeming.
We wish that all your life may be
A life of selfless brave endeavour--
That for reward the fates allow
Such love as lines your soft nest now
To warm the years for you, when we,
Who wish you this, are cold for ever.
poem by Edith Nesbit
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