Lonesome Deity 'bove A Hermit Desk
A lonesome Deity hovers above my hermit desk,
delivering the soft, nuptial scent of dried chamomile petals;
a steaming vapor, livening puffy
bleary eyed, sleepy morning facial flesh
In the solitude of early hours belonging the songbirds,
I hear the familiar footsteps of his approach;
The invisible wind borne life force,
creaking untraceable floorboards,
rattling shutter-less windows:
Hermes, speaking in the silent code of Mercurial morse
revving me from the mossy undergrowth of my bed sheets
with a musing spring gambade from the ancient Aonian source.
The hiss and purr percolation of his slow drip voice
builds like steadily brewing kaffe klatsch
The dusty echo of his whisper soothes like a sleepy fan
Bedded in the warm blankets of his embrace,
I welcome his presence.
The dark clouds of bitterness that
for so long lingered between us,
have faded in the light of age,
the tiresome influence
anxiety cast upon us
died with those waning
flames of youth;
ash now lost
in the ever widening
gulf of the past.
Our Maternal guardian:
Patience, shepherdess of the fawn,
has guided us well in our play,
placing the searing irons of
boredom and restlessness
into the grip of our adolescent palms, and
with adroit, moist hands and egret fingertips,
Taught us how to mold these scorching
human elements,
converting them, with essential care,
into enduring tools of one's chosen craft.
poem by Gregory Allen Uhan
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Related quotes
her name is Valentine
My Valentine has a lamp about and around her
She tells me an aura of atmosphere of kindness she found
That's when I reach across the table and grab her hand
'you see this grip', I said, 'It's able'
I make into kindness with grip of my hands to labor this thirsty land
to put kindness on this table
And that night was hot with anger
And my pillow alone she cast to my broken barn door
Under the stars, under broken large hole in roof
I fell asleep into kindness, into her dream...
I dream an aura of atmosphere of kindness, a sudden surprise
shining my Valentine's eyes
blinding my resistant
And came this moment... I saw this lamp
It was over full of love and it flowed out and following an empty lost
Something of a voice calling at me saying, 'this is rare and new'
'she initiates a lovely, loveliness flow into her smile for you'
As I thought about this, a current of warm, extraordinary and
satisfying breeze came across my face
An invisible scent and familiar taste
It was my Valentine, emerging into view
an emerald of breath light
making it known...
'I'm in love with you'
embroidering my heart to dreams I thought far apart
My voice again, speaking into my sleepy dream night
'Complementary and compatible like moon and starlight'
When the breaking into a new light arrives each morning
I do remember...
My Valentine's atmosphere of kindness she stirs
And I... about and all around her's
poem by Joseph Nez
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Sleepy Eyed Boy
Where are the boot straps
To lift myself up?
Where is the well
Where I once filled my cup?
Where does this sorrow
All turn into joy?
And where oh where is the sleepy eyed boy?
Where is my true love
When the wind starts to moan?
Is she out in the wild,
Is she there all alone?
Have I cast her aside
Like an unwanted toy?
Tell me where oh where is the sleepy eyed boy?
Hes goin down the backroads
In a cold pourin rain
Hes a waitin for a postcard
In the south coast of spain
Postmarked from a sweetheart
Back in ol illinois
Sayin where oh where is my sleepy eyed boy?
song performed by by John Prine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Old Oak
In the shadow of solitude now I see Your eyes,
that so faithfully carry about the light
through my thoughts so dark,
and the pen trembles in the hand,
waiting for the prodigal son's acknowledgement.
My one and only, acknowledgements arrive in solitude's embrace,
just like tears, and where there is a tear, there is love,
always faithful and unbribable, invisible but so real
that you can touch it with thoughts
and with the fiery breath in the infinity of solitude.
I admit to using my verses as ransom for my guilt,
(and guilt is my silence) ,
and I listen to the rumor
that perpetually, like a bat,
whirls across the lonely poet's street.
They say that me and You,
my one and only,
are fantasy, but a pen immersed in ink.
But You know, don't You,
that me and You are perfectly real, full of wishes,
dreams and memories.
My one and only, I am listening to the whisper of the wind
in this warm, dreamy summer night...
It is silent, horribly silent without You,
and the wind's whisper is dying down, farther away, oh so far,
as if called by death to its black hearse,
and I have waited for so many days, months and years to appear,
to bring Your voice to me,
gentle, soft, warm and yearning,
but it is so silent, oh so silent now,
that I can hear the screams of solitude
chase away memories
into this warm summer night,
my one and only, I am standing in the shadow of the dignified oak,
and I am looking into his empty sleepiness,
as if its playfulness left along with You,
it is silent like the wind.
Its dear, green, eternally waking young leaves,
who used to whisper in Your vicinity, untrammeled and confidential,
are completely silent now, completely dead.
Now I am trembling in the shadow of our oak,
fearfully looking at it as it drags its dignified old face along the ground,
its memories are as lively as mine.
Once, yes, once the memories,
who live so inaudibly,
shall become so weak,
so humanly weak,
that they shall find their dark home
next to our wooden crosses.
© Walter William Safar
poem by Walter William Safar
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The Craft Of Life
I tried to study it for just a while:
All of the potions, from oysters to seducing smiles.
But I've found it's already inside me:
A big round bubble of sensuality,
Dared to be burst,
But worried about getting hurt.
I know how you like to kiss.
I'll ask you what you're thinking.
Silvers in our dark hair.
The sheets are soaked by your tiny fish.
The craft of life,
The craft of life,
The craft of life,
The craft of life,
Oo-ooh...
Tears spring to mind when I go back in time.
All those lost bodies just seeking security.
Jittering strangers with smutting hands,
Heavy and clever and full of demands.
Well I'm similar to you:
We're familiar with what to do.
I know how you like to kiss.
I'll ask you what you're thinking.
Silvers in our dark hair.
The sheets are soaked by your tiny fish.
The craft of life,
The craft of life,
The craft of life,
The craft of life,
Oo-ooh...
song performed by by Kate Bush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mr. Tambourine Man
Hey! mr. tambourine man, play a song for me,
I'm not sleepy and there is no place i'm going to.
Hey! mr. tambourine man, play a song for me,
In the jingle jangle morning i'll come followin' you.
Though i know that evenin's empire has returned into sand,
Vanished from my hand,
Left me blindly here to stand but still not sleeping.
My weariness amazes me, i'm branded on my feet,
I have no one to meet
And the ancient empty street's too dead for dreaming.
Hey! mr. tambourine man, play a song for me,
I'm not sleepy and there is no place i'm going to.
Hey! mr. tambourine man, play a song for me,
In the jingle jangle morning i'll come followin' you.
Take me on a trip upon your magic swirlin' ship,
My senses have been stripped, my hands can't feel to grip,
My toes too numb to step, wait only for my boot heels
To be wanderin'.
I'm ready to go anywhere, i'm ready for to fade
Into my own parade, cast your dancing spell my way,
I promise to go under it.
Hey! mr. tambourine man, play a song for me,
I'm not sleepy and there is no place i'm going to.
Hey! mr. tambourine man, play a song for me,
In the jingle jangle morning i'll come followin' you.
Then take me disappearin' through the smoke rings of my mind,
Down the foggy ruins of time, far past the frozen leaves,
The haunted, frightened trees, out to the windy beach,
Far from the twisted reach of crazy sorrow.
Yes, to dance beneath the diamond sky with one hand waving free,
Silhouetted by the sea, circled by the circus sands,
With all memory and fate driven deep beneath the waves,
Let me forget about today until tomorrow.
Hey! mr. tambourine man, play a song for me,
I'm not sleepy and there is no place i'm going to.
Hey! mr. tambourine man, play a song for me,
In the jingle jangle morning i'll come followin' you.
song performed by by George Harrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Art of Touch
something pleasurable
something reassuring
something warm
embrace hugs
shaking hands
tickle play
whisper on the skin
sudden crash
string of sadness
lonesome's hold
closing the gap
presence of some
annoying admirer
silent confession
caressing lock
comforting tap
brush past walk
trust measure
something satisfy
something lull
something learned
hard or soft
strong or tender
harsh or smooth
shy or tight
wake up your nerves
and be honest!
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Elegy for Juliani
They found him today,
the dirty canal washing his face,
his lungs bursting full
with watery breath.
Confusion and hatred
coldly cast this child
to the chilly turbid flow.
Another child died long ago
and all the people wept
to see young life so quickly swept
into death’s deep sleep,
and so they begged
for a miracle. He said
“Wake up, little girl, ”
and startled, wide eyed and
very hungry, she sat up.
Does sleepy Juliani
hear a soothing voice say,
“Wake up, little boy”?
Does he rise now to play
in heaven’s soft, new day?
poem by Steven Federle
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My Dark Dreams
I'm in the dark
And I'm lost
In my mind, screaming
Through the empty
Space, filled with no light
All I hear is my echo
I listen and hear the echo
Of silent breaking through the dark
Nothingness that consumes any light
That I don't see, in this lost
Place of empty
Dreaming, in which I scream
Soon as it stops, the screaming
High painful cry, and the echo
Fades, leaving me again in the empty
Hallow thoughts of my dark
Sleep, and wander through my mind lost
Of what I had, it was my light
What I had was like a warm light
That held me from the bitter screaming
Of the cold, it found me when I was lost
It covered me like a blanket, and echoed
Through my soul, with it I was never in the dark
And never left empty
Now, in my sleep, I am empty
The warm blanket of hte light
No longer holds me, but exposes me to the dark
And painful piercing screams
Of my own voice echoing
In my nightmares of what I've lost
I am lost
In the emptiness
Of my own pain, that echoes
Through me, and all I want again is the light
For it I scream
In my dreams, but all I get in the dark
I dream of the dark and I'm lost
My screaming is only heard by the empty
Space in my mind, where light shined, but there is only echo.
poem by Nicole Hiebing
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Homage
today i pay homage
to the turtle and for those like it
are too slow
for almost anything
its inability to cope up with the
arrogant and speedy rabbit
the subject of
too much mockery
in that snail-paced history
today i pay homage
to persistence and flexibility
to patience and stoicism
to faith that grows steadily within the hearts of every man
that respect for every block of brick
that makes the long winding gate of protection
that composes the great wall
of the house
for every step
that does the ways of master builder
though small and slow
yet still sure
today i pay homage for all the other
slow processes
of solitude
those quiet manners of the
grass and the leaves
the tender climb of the tendrils on the trellis of the fence
the steady flourishing of the
petals on the sepals of the
morning flower
today i pay homage to
those tiny green turtles anchored
quietly
beside the gleaming stone of the ancient pond
of our civilization
those sleepy eyes under the moon
full of wisdom
showered by the rain and sunshine of the ages
not rushing for anything
they are all here
undisturbed and thriving still
not hurting anyone
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Two Sleepy People
Two sleepy people miles apart,
May be sleepy but close in heart.
Two so alike it's hard to believe.
Too much to do, too much to achieve.
Awake in hours of the night,
Unable to rest, too uptight.
Two sleepy people, one young, one old.
Maybe sleepy but both are bold.
Not afraid to tackle anything.
Not afraid to face what life may bring.
Awake and burning the hours away.
Two sleepy people are too far away.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Sleepy Time Time
By jack bruce and janet godfrey
Im a sleepy time baby, a sleepy time boy.
Work only maybe, life is a joy.
Well have a sleepy time time.
Well have a sleepy time time.
Well have a sleepy time time.
Well have a sleepy time time.
Sleepy time time, sleepy time all the time.
Asleep in the daytime, asleep at night.
Life is all playtime; working aint right.
Chorus
I have my sunday, that aint no lie.
But on monday morning comes my favorite cry.
Chorus
song performed by by Cream
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Jeanie with the Light Brown Hair
1 I dream of Jeanie with the light brown hair,
2 Borne, like a vapor, on the summer air;
3 I see her tripping where the bright streams play,
4 Happy as the daisies that dance on her way.
5 Many were the wild notes her merry voice would pour.
6 Many were the blithe birds that warbled them o'er:
7 Oh! I dream of Jeanie with the light brown hair,
8 Floating, like a vapor, on the soft summer air.
9 I long for Jeanie with the daydawn smile,
10 Radiant in gladness, warm with winning guile;
11 I hear her melodies, like joys gone by,
12 Sighing round my heart o'er the fond hopes that die: --
13 Sighing like the night wind and sobbing like the rain, --
14 Wailing for the lost one that comes not again:
15 Oh! I long for Jeanie, and my heart bows low,
16 Never more to find her where the bright waters flow.
17 I sigh for Jeanie, but her light form strayed
18 Far from the fond hearts round her native glade;
19 Her smiles have vanished and her sweet songs flown,
20 Flitting like the dreams that have cheered us and gone.
21 Now the nodding wild flowers may wither on the shore
22 While her gentle fingers will cull them no more:
23 Oh! I sigh for Jeanie with the light brown hair,
24 Floating, like a vapor, on the soft summer air.
poem by Stephen C. Foster
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Sleepy Time Time
By jack bruce and janet godfrey
Im a sleepy time baby, a sleepy time boy.
Work only maybe, life is a joy.
Well have a sleepy time time.
Well have a sleepy time time.
Well have a sleepy time time.
Well have a sleepy time time.
Sleepy time time, sleepy time all the time.
Asleep in the daytime, asleep at night.
Life is all playtime; working aint right.
Chorus
I have my sunday, that aint no lie.
But oh monday morning aint my favorite cry.
Chorus
song performed by by Eric Clapton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Another Lonesome Morning
(clinton codack/wendy special)
Another lonesome morning
Another long lonesome day
Youll have to live without him
The morning seemed to say
Another lonesome morning
You thought you didnt care
But morning breezes find you
Wishing he were there
Bobwhite sings his same old song
Trying hard to please
And you hear the sound
That he used to love
Thru the rustlin of the leaves
Thru the rustlin of the leaves
You losing him has taught you
That you wanted him to stay
And you know that all another lonesome morning brings
Is another lonesome day
All another lonesome morning brings
Is another lonesome day
Is another lonesome day
song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sleepy Head
Terry widlake
Sleepy head isnt it time that you were in your bed?
The sandman will be coming soon, with a dream or two
Perhaps tomorrow they will all come true
Ooh sleepy head whispering all the things that we left unsaid
And so its time to make your weary way into a brand new day, tomorrow
The little pigs were certain that the wolf was here to stay
But in your dreams youll chase that wolf away
Hey sleepy head the princess has been saved and the dragons dead
Goodnight, and may God keep you in his sight
Safe until the early light, sleepy head, sleepy head, sleepy head.....
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sleepy- Eyed
Sleepy-eyed and tired,
your head is nodding now.
You've played so hard all day long.
I caress your brow.
The vigor of youth shows me the truth
that your dreams will probably bring
songs to sing
and happy things,
nothing to make you fret,
not like the dreams I get.
Sleepy-eyed and tired,
my head is nodding now.
I've worked so hard all day long.
No one caresses my brow.
Weary from age,
earning my wage
my dreams I will not remember.
For I'm dead to the world
like a dying ember,
sleeping my life away,
not like my child at play.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Burning soft the midnight oil
Whisper soft, whisper slow, shifting as the green man knows,
Drifting soft, twisting slow, listen as the river flows.
Knowing all there is to know, to set your foot beyond the valley known
For echoes set on wings of a wind forever long since flown
Ask me how I know, ask me and I'll show you, all it is to flow.
To languish in temptation, squalid in appearance.
Always lavished in redemption, rarely valid in clairvoyance.
Burning soft the midnight oil as the witching hour approaches
Turning as the nightlights boil everything she touches.
Pendulums cast to questions asked with no honor in reproach
Ask the pendulum man to swing it'll never be too much.
Morning comes a running on fast, she won't stay long she knows won't last.
She knows the time to sing as past, laughing laid upon the grass, below the waning moon.
Falling in and out of season, bloom, go swoon in tides of reason.
Drowning in cascading tears, we're running out of fear.
poem by David Lacey
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The Voice
Too soon a voice calls out to us
and we hear it sorrowfully.
The words we hear we have heard before.
They echo eternity.
The voice sings praises to our soul
and soothes our troubled mind.
And as we reckon with what's to come
we feel a voice so kind.
We cross the space from here to there
and leave mortality.
Even though our mind has been troubled
we'll miss the sky and sea.
For what we've experienced while on earth
no matter bad or good.
will leave with us as memories
that follow us as they should.
The voice we hear is so familiar
that we recognize at last
it's the voice from everyone we've been
that defines all of our past.
So when the voice calls out with love
cast aside all fear.
Remember your loves. Remember your life
and all that you held dear.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Footsteps
Footsteps in the dark
Only love will break your heart
Footsteps, footsteps
Whenever trouble comes around
Or lonely nights lead underground
And far in the dark
Abandoned cars suddenly start up
An anxious sound
As long as I hear your footsteps
In the dark thats all I need
Footsteps in the dark
Only love will break your heart
Footsteps, footsteps
When loneliness induces fear
Like waves against a
Ramshackle pier
When thunder and rain
Scar the windowpane once again
I want you near
As long as I hear your footsteps
In the dark thats all I need
Im longing to see you
I want you, I need you
Like a child who feels afraid
Of the dark at night
Hoping to hear a gentle touch
Turning on a welcome light
As long as I hear your footsteps
In the dark thats all I need
As long as I hear your footsteps
In the dark thats all I need
Footsteps in the dark
Only love will break your heart
Footsteps, footsteps
Footsteps in the dark
Only love will break your heart
Footsteps, footsteps
song performed by by Pet Shop Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sleepy Time Girl (Song) :
Sleepy time girl.She never gets her rest.
Sleepy time girl.She never does her best.
At anything!
Sleepy time girl.She's never on the ball.
Sleepy time girl.Her words! They're always
off the wall.
That little sleepy time girl.
Sleepy time girl.Sleepy time girl.
She's always late for school.
Sleepy time girl.
She never ever seems to care.
That little sleepy time girl..
Short-Song-Poem By Kim Robin Edwards
Copyright 1986,2009..
ALL rights reserved..
poem by Kim Robin Edwards
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