Thessaloniki
Who would that be with the scaled tail?
A Gorgon maybe, or a Medusa?
A precognition of a roughened wild sea,
a challenge to any nautilus wail,
or a dithering of a lonely soul's plea?
She raises her hand to grasp of the side,
your boat's that edges away, breast rail,
she woes to thee to adherent abide,
your empty soul's anxiety's lone trail,
many that tried to disclaim her - died.
It could be a mermaid that wanders
on every ship's route or path surmised
to ask of how her dear brother died
and she, her once royal pretty fingers
lifts, to ask: Is king Alexander alive?
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Related quotes
Triple of clover
Triple of clover
I walked so far
And still
My soul's scar
my lone star
feeling of steel.
My mind's nail
to pierce
pointy on trail
my sole wail
so fierce.
Of all I disclaim
my under masts
of waves hums,
I feel of flames,
and Hydras drums.
Then I disdain
my soul's brink
a loner's drink
it was so vain
our knotted link.
For being alone
on empty corner
A triple of clover
engraved on stone
My quill of Homer.
Rain's cold stream
a message rogue
An empty bog
I walk and dream
of you in fog.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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The Lonely Soul
The lonely soul wanders
Alone in the walks of life
No other soul as his companion
The lonely soul wanders
Alone in the daybreak
He does his duties
In the walks of life
The lonely soul wanders
Alone in the life
He meets many other souls
Who comes to be
Unfit for the lonely soul
The lonely soul wanders
As the days pass by
The lonely soul became
More lonely, with no other
souls as his companion
The lonely soul wanders
Alone in the walks of life
The lonely soul decides
Not to die, but to face
Life in all its hardships
The lonely soul wanders
poem by Anto Thermadam
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The lonely soul Wanders
This is to show that despite people may feel lonely, they truly wallow in their own pity.How pathetic.
The lonely soul wanders
Alone in the walks of life
No other soul as his companion
The lonely soul wanders
Alone in the daybreak
He does his duties
In the walks of life
The lonely soul wanders
Alone in the life
He meets many other souls
Who come to be
Unfit for the lonely soul
The lonely soul wanders
poem by Damien Kai
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The Lonely Soul
The Lonely Soul
The lonely soul wanders
Alone in the walks of life
No other soul as his companion
The lonely soul wanders
Alone in the daybreak
He does his duties
In the walks of life
The lonely soul wanders
Alone in the life
He meets many other souls
Who comes to be
Unfit for the lonely soul
The lonely soul wanders
As the days pass by
The lonely soul became
More lonely, with no other
souls as his companion
The lonely soul wanders
Alone in the walks of life
The lonely soul decides
Not to die, but to face
Life in all its hardships
The lonely soul wanders
By: Marilee Morley
poem by Marilee Morley
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Lyrics Of Love And Sorrow
I
Love is the light of the world, my dear,
Heigho, but the world is gloomy;
The light has failed and the lamp down hurled,
Leaves only darkness to me.
Love is the light of the world, my dear,
Ah me, but the world is dreary;
The night is down, and my curtain furled
But I cannot sleep, though weary.
Love is the light of the world, my dear,
Alas for a hopeless hoping,
When the flame went out in the breeze that swirled,
And a soul went blindly groping.
II
The light was on the golden sands,
A glimmer on the sea;
My soul spoke clearly to thy soul,
Thy spirit answered me.
Since then the light that gilds the sands,
And glimmers on the sea,
But vainly struggles to reflect
The radiant soul of thee.
III
The sea speaks to me of you
All the day long;
Still as I sit by its side
You are its song.
The sea sings to me of you
Loud on the reef;
Always it moans as it sings,
Voicing my grief.
IV
My dear love died last night;
Shall I clothe her in white?
My passionate love is dead,
Shall I robe her in red?
But nay, she was all untrue,
She shall not go drest in blue;
Still my desolate love was brave,
Unrobed let her go to her grave.
V
There are brilliant heights of sorrow
That only the few may know;
And the lesser woes of the world, like waves,
Break noiselessly, far below.
I hold for my own possessing,
A mount that is lone and still--
The great high place of a hopeless grief,
And I call it my 'Heart-break Hill.'
And once on a winter's midnight
I found its highest crown,
And there in the gloom, my soul and I,
Weeping, we sat us down.
But now when I seek that summit
We are two ghosts that go;
Only two shades of a thing that died,
Once in the long ago.
So I sit me down in the silence,
And say to my soul, 'Be still,'
So the world may not know we died that night,
From weeping on 'Heart-break Hill.'
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Each Day Still Lingers.
Each day she’s there in the cafe
Sitting in the same seat with the
Same shopping bag and the same
Coat as she drinks tea and eats a
Large blueberry muffin which she
Eats without delicacy but a great
Deal of pleasure and as you sit you
Study her taking in each aspect of
Her right down to the way her black
Shoes have worn down at the heal
And the lone gold ring on her plump
Finger and you think maybe she was
Married and he got away or died or
Ran off with some younger or slimmer
Other and as you muse she raises her
Mug of tea and like a child she seems
To look at the inside of the mug as she
Lifts it up and maybe you think her grim
Mother told her off once for doing just
That and smacked her hand but now that
Her mother has gone off and died or is
Shut up in some home for the aged she
Can sip and do as she likes without fear
Of censure or smacks on the hand and as
She lowers the mug she sees you across
The way and looks away and wipes the
Rim of the mug with her fingers as if the
Memory of her mother’s chiding still lingers.
poem by Terry Collett
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Fog-Horns, Even Bow-Bells
Nautilus on a cargo vessel, to avail,
devoid of an older route, and drift
his beats of abreacted pulse, to trail,
his home-land on cloudy forms, to lift.
Long locked in dreams, assemblage,
soul sails forward, spilled life's wine,
in Nordic Northern seas, God Brage,
unworldly lyrics to compose, in brine.
I reckon he befits an Angel, alone,
he plays a harmonica in broken notes,
a song for loners or friends, gone,
mistral petals him along, as boat floats.
I reckon he remembers her, a Naiad,
the sun crowns his head, far setting,
a dalliance, a harbor song, her bard,
depicting of his solitude's odd wedding.
In dark she comes, from away shore,
along windy fog-horns eerie call, in air,
she gliding sails, comely to invite afore,
Nautilus and drifting souls in despair.
She comes as bow-bells ring, and sings:
'Enfold me in your lone heart, and I,
shall lift your soul, with halcyon wings,
to fly in incipient stills, to imbue of nigh.'
She sings along, as drifts of mist repeat:
'Enfold me in your lone heart, and I,
shall lift your soul, with halcyon wings,
to fly in incipient stills, to imbue of nigh.'
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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The Soul Cages
The boy child is locked in the fishermans yard
Theres a bloodless moon where the ocean died
A shoal of nightstars hang fire in the nets
And the chaos of cages where the crayfish lie
Where is the fisherman, where is the goat?
Where is the keeper in his carrion coat?
Eclipse on the moon when the dark bird flies
Where is the child with his fathers eyes?
There are the soul cages these are the soul cages
Hes the king of the ninth world
The twisted son of the fog bells toll
In each and every lobster cage
A tortured human soul
These are the souls of broken factories
The subject slaves of the broken crown
The dead accounting of old guilty promises
These are the souls of the broken town
These are the soul cages these are the soul cages
These are the soul cages these are the soul cages
i have a wager the brave child spoke
The fisherman laughed, though disturbed at the joke
you will drink what I drink but you must equal me
And if the drink leaves me standing,
A soul shall go free
i have here a cask of most magical wine
A vintage that blessed every ship in the line
Its wrung from the blood of the sailors who died
Young white bodies adrift in the tide
and whats in it for me my pretty young thing?
Why should I whistle, when the caged bird sings?
If you lose a wager with the king of the sea
Youll spend the rest of forever in the cage with me
These are the soul cages these are the soul cages
These are the soul cages these are the soul cages
A body lies open in the fishermans yard
Like the side of a ship where the iceberg rips
One less soul in the soul cages
One last curse on the fishermans lips
These are the soul cages these are the soul cages
These are the soul cages these are the soul cages
Swim to the light swim to the light
He dreamed of the ship on the sea
It would carry his father and he
To a place they could never be found
To a place far away from this town
A newcastle ship without coals
They would sail to the island of souls
song performed by by Sting
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To All Who Thirst
As the deer panteth for the waterbrooks
So my soul longeth after thee
Oh my Father in Heaven
Can you hear my desperate plea?
My soul cries out to you
In a dry and thirsty land
Revive me oh Lord, quench my raging thirst
Reach down from heaven and take my feeble hand
There is a famine in my soul
And it hungers after heavens food
There's a raging thirst in my spirit
If only I could quench this thirst I would
I have tasted this food and drank from the well
Now nothing else will do
I am ruined for all of this life
Now all I want is all of you
Oh listen to my plea
Oh Christ the risen King
I need to hear your Spirit speak
I need to hear the angels sing
For I have wandered in this desert
And it has brought me too my knees
And every footprint in the desert sand
Is marked by anguished plea's
Forget me not Oh Lord my God
For I remember thee
Those moments that we spent alone
In your Holy Sanctuary
And I was robbed of all my words
In that place before your throne
I knelt and wept, and cried with joy
I knew I'd never be alone
And now your Spirit comes to me
And a heavenly angel sings
A small still voice it says to me
' I will bear you on eagle's wings'
Arise my my child and thirst no more
For I have heard your plea
Reach out and grasp my outstretched hand
It's time to come away with me
poem by Frank McEleny
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Soul Brother
Words and music by freddie mercury,brian may,roger
Taylor and john deacon
God bless my soul here he comes now
The man with the most how does he do it?
Sure hes got style hes so heavy
Hes a trip can do anything
Anything anything
Hes my soul brother
Hes my best friend hes my champion
And he will rock you rock you rock you
cause hes the saviour of the universe
He can make you keep yourself alive
Make yourself alive
Ooh brother cause hes somebody somebody
He can love
Hes my soul brother
When youre under pressure feeling under pressure
Yeah pressure yeah pressure
He wont let you down
When youre under pressure
Oh feeling under pressure yeah pressure
So he wont let you down
My brother wont let you down
He wont he wont he wont let you down
He can do anything anything anything
Hes my soul brother
Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
Ooh soul brother anything (soul brother)
Anything (soul brother) anything (soul brother)
Hes my soul brother brother brother brother brother
Anything (soul brother) anything (soul brother) anything
(soul brother)
Hes my soul brother
Soul brother he can do anything
He can do anything
cause hes my soul brother
song performed by by Queen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Mermaid (Quatern Poetry)
In the Red Sea, you were my lonely king of salt,
You were my beautiful statue made of basalt.
On the sea shore, dominating the yellow land,
You were my statue representing the king of sand.
Your body was looking as it was tattooed with smalt.
In the Red Sea, you were my lonely king of salt.
At the water high waves' mobile horizon
I was a mermaid, caught in your love's prison.
I swam to the surface, sometimes, to see you.
You were on your ship, at the dawn's purplish blue.
In the Red Sea, you were my lonely king of salt.
I had your beautiful statue, made of basalt.
I paid to get rid off my tail and to become a woman,
Because I wanted you to be my lover and my man.
You disappeared and your wreck was anchored in Galt,
In the Red Sea, you’re my lonely king of salt.
poem by Marieta Maglas
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The King Of Pop
The child, the man
The legend and still the child
And like a child you died...
You had it all
And had nothing at all....
Through out your tormented life
You managed to become the king
Surrounded by people
All over the world
But still lonely and empty
When with love
You offered all...
Now I can only said
In one word:
You were born a king
And died like a king...
Now you became like
A star shining above
Which had been gone
Long time ago...
You will always live with us...
Tribute to the king of pop
Who made it to the top
And will always remain with us...
Through the end of time....
R.I.P. king...
©All Rights Reserved-2009
poem by Romeo Della Valle
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Dichotomy....
the room there was spartan,
empty except for
a pair of dirty pants
hanging on the side
of the wall,
the atmosphere of wood
and dust and
bareness
i was lonely, i was always lonely
and some say
that i was sick almost all the time
there was either cold or
fever
mother and father died almost together
when they were alive they were not close
they always quarrel on something
be it fish or dog
or linen
they died a long time ago and there was that moment
when they both visited me in the room
and ask me if i was alright
if i want then to go with them and join them in their new place
and without hesitation i said: nope, thanks, i have my own world
and i like to keep it.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Day I Died
The air was close, but it would not rain
The day I died.
And smog enshrouded Gotham town
The day I died..
I should have stayed in Oceanside
The day I died.
Instead of a hellish subway ride
The day I died.
It started with a stabbing pain
The day I died.
Then waves of nausea deep inside
The day I died.
I fell to earth, I could not breathe
The day I died.
Co workers rushing to my side
The day I died.
Sirens scream on distant streets
The day I died.
bringing hosts of E.M.T.’s
The day I died..
Too late for me, this proud heart fails
The day I died.
I thought” This is the last of Earth”
The day I died.
poem by John F. McCullagh
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The Magnetic Lady To Her Patient
I.
'Sleep, sleep on! forget thy pain;
My hand is on thy brow,
My spirit on thy brain;
My pity on thy heart, poor friend;
And from my fingers flow
The powers of life, and like a sign,
Seal thee from thine hour of woe;
And brood on thee, but may not blend
With thine.
II.
'Sleep, sleep on! I love thee not;
But when I think that he
Who made and makes my lot
As full of flowers as thine of weeds,
Might have been lost like thee;
And that a hand which was not mine
Might then have charmed his agony
As I another's--my heart bleeds
For thine.
III.
'Sleep, sleep, and with the slumber of
The dead and the unborn
Forget thy life and love;
Forget that thou must wake forever;
Forget the world's dull scorn;
Forget lost health, and the divine
Feelings which died in youth's brief morn;
And forget me, for I can never
Be thine.
IV.
'Like a cloud big with a May shower,
My soul weeps healing rain
On thee, thou withered flower!
It breathes mute music on thy sleep
Its odour calms thy brain!
Its light within thy gloomy breast
Spreads like a second youth again.
By mine thy being is to its deep
Possessed.
V.
'The spell is done. How feel you now?'
'Better—Quite well,' replied
The sleeper.--'What would do
You good when suffering and awake?
What cure your head and side?--'
‘What would cure, that would kill me, Jane:
And as I must on earth abide
Awhile, yet tempt me not to break
My chain.'
poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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Lonely
If thine soul feels loneliness,
Thou art not perfectly understood
As thou soul wishes
If thine soul does not feel
The human word
It feels loneliness's hollow cry
If thine soul wearies of human love
It always has loneliness to watch thy love die
If thine soul speaks to deaf ears
Then the loneliest, most remote ears in the world, hear with melancholy
If thine soul has no hand to hold
Then loneliness walks by thy side and holds thee
If thou fear to die alone, alone with loneliness you will die
If thou fear the dark when alone, loneliness hides in the dark
Afraid with thee.
As mine tears fell
Into God's empty well
And to his lonely cell
Loneliness heard and spoke though me…
Lonely
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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The Negro Father's Lamentation Over the Body of His Infant Son
Thou'rt dead, my boy!—my son!—my only child!—
And yet I may not shed one tear for thee,
Nor hanging o'er thy bier in anguish wild,
Upbraid the hand that bore thee far from me:
I cannot wish that thou hadst lived to share
Thy father's fate—his woes—and his despair!
I loved thee—oh! I need not say how well!
Thou wert my all of hopes or bliss on earth!
Yet I will not repine that thou dost dwell
In happiness, with her who gave thee birth,
While I, like yon dark rock of naked stone,
Must bear the storms that round me beat, alone.
'T is well! Thou wilt not share those storms with me,
That is my all of comfort in this hour—
I weep not, though I would have died for thee!
Ay, more than died— that sacrifice were poor—
I would have spurn'd the hand that set me free,
And clasp'd my chain, and lived a slave, for thee.
My boy! my darling boy! farewell, farewell!
Thou ne'er shalt feel the pangs that rend me now,
For still my heart with agony will swell,
To think, that never more upon my brow,
Thy little lips with fondness shall be prest,
As when I oft have clasp'd thee to my breast.
Yes! fare thee well! thy fond caress no more
Shall soothe the tortured throbbing of my heart,
As it full oft has done, when tyrant power
Has trampled me to earth, and round me prest
The chain of slavery, till my swelling heart
Has madden'd into frenzy with the smart.
Yet even then, though thou couldst calm my soul,
With thy soft lisping voice and childish glee,
While clasping thee, sad thoughts would o'er me roll,
Of what must be thy future destiny,
Till my hot tears have wet thy little face,
And thou hast wonder'd at my wild embrace.
But thou art dead!—it ne'er will be thy fate
To tremble at a cruel tyrant's frowns—
To bend in servile toil, to feed his state,
To feel the lash, and hear him mock thy groans.
Then fare thee well!—thy father will not weep,
Or wish to wake thee from thy peaceful sleep.
poem by Elizabeth Margaret Chandler from Poetical Works (1836)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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To My Friend On The Death Of His Sister
Thine is a grief, the depth of which another
May never know;
Yet, o'er the waters, O my stricken brother!
To thee I go.
I lean my heart unto thee, sadly folding
Thy hand in mine;
With even the weakness of my soul upholding
The strength of thine.
I never knew, like thee, the dear departed;
I stood not by
When, in calm trust, the pure and tranquil-hearted
Lay down to die.
And on thy ears my words of weak condoling
Must vainly fall
The funeral bell which in thy heart is tolling,
Sounds over all!
I will not mock thee with the poor world's common
And heartless phrase,
Nor wrong the memory of a sainted woman
With idle praise.
With silence only as their benediction,
God's angels come
Where, in the shadow of a great affliction,
The soul sits dumb!
Yet, would I say what thy own heart approveth
Our Father's will,
Calling to Him the dear one whom He loveth,
Is mercy still.
Not upon thee or thine the solemn angel
Hath evil wrought
Her funeral anthem is a glad evangel,--
The good die not!
God calls our loved ones, but we lose not wholly
What He hath given;
They live on earth, in thought and deed, as truly
As in His heaven.
And she is with thee; in thy path of trial
She walketh yet;
Still with the baptism of thy self-denial
Her locks are wet.
Up, then, my brother! Lo, the fields of harvest
Lie white in view
She lives and loves thee, and the God thou servest
To both is true.
Thrust in thy sickle! England's toilworn peasants
Thy call abide;
And she thou mourn'st, a pure and holy presence,
Shall glean beside!
poem by John Greenleaf Whittier
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Brother Brother
“Brother Brother a long time has past 15 years since I’ve seen you last
Your laughter and smile will never die like your spirit that fills the sky
We have to look for your signs ever present in our lives
Your voice echoes in the wind like a whisper from a friend
A shooting star from above a little sign to show me your love
Brother I’m there watching over you like a Guardian Angel
Talk to me I will listen I hear your thoughts and your worries
I feel your pain and your joy my soul has never died
Always keep me in your heart and my memory alive
I will be there to greet you on the other side
Eternal love and friendship “
In Memoriam : Francis Archibald Douglas
Dear friend, dear brother, I have owed you this
Since many days, the tribute of a song.
Shall I cheat you who never did a wrong
To any man ? No, therefore though I miss
All art, all skill, in this short armistice
From my soul's war against the bitter throng
Of present woes, let these poor lines be strong
In love enough to bear a brother's kiss.
Dear saint, true knight, I cannot weep for you,
Nor if I could would I call back the breath
To your dear body ; God is very wise,
All that this year had in its womb He knew,
And, loving you, He sent His Son like Death,
To put His hand over your kind gray eyes.
poem by Lord Alfred Douglas
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