Nineteen Nine
There's a light out there in the nearer east
In the dawn of Nineteen Nine;
There’s the old ghost light in the salty yeast
Where the black rocks meet the brine.
Here’s the same old strife and toil in vain—
Here’s the same old hope and doubt—
Here’s the same old useless care and pain—
And the sea is my way out—
My dear—
The sea is my way out.
’Tis a grey and a sad old sea for me—
With a growing grey head too.
Oh, the heads were brown and the eyes were bright
When the sea was white and blue.
It was round the world and home again,
We could turn and turn about,
And the sea means exile now in vain,
But the sea is my way out—
My dear—
The sea is my way out.
poem by Henry Lawson
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Related quotes
Grey, Grey Sky
Someday I will ride the great bird
Into the sky, into the grey
And will take a bright secret of mine
Into the grey, grey sky.
And the light will come, piercing my eyes
Out of the sky, out of the grey
Come blinding and searing these eyes
Out of the grey, grey sky.
And I will find comfort in this
In the wide sky, in the wide grey
In the painful dark brightness of light
Light of the grey, grey sky.
My secret will fly away home
Into the sky, into the grey
And the great bird will follow it there
Into the grey, grey sky.
And I will be riding that bird
Bird of the sky, bird of the grey
And I will come home once again
Home to the grey, grey sky.
But for now I am weighted, earthbound
One of the mud, one of the ground
And I write this sad song to sad sound
Girl of the pavement sighs.
poem by Grace Hutton
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Dont Turn The Light Out
On my way home I met an
Old friend of mine
We walked and we talked an shared
A bottle of wine
We started to dance and my
Intentions were good
How could I know Id be misunderstood
I promised to call before the weekend
Was thru
Wed all get together sho she could
Meet you
I was just being friendly, I met her
By chance
You gotta believe me - its not a romance
Dont turn the light out, Im starting to see
Dont turn the light out, youre getting to me
Dont turn the light out, were burning so bright
Dont turn the light out.....dont turn the light out
You gotta see it from my point
Of view
The same situation could
Happen to you
I said it was over before she left
Town
I cant believe that youre putting me down
Dont turn the light out, Im starting to see
Dont turn the light out, youre getting to me
Dont turn the light out, were burning so bright
Dont turn the light out.....dont turn the light out
It would be easy if youd lighten up
Do it to please me, enough is enough
All that weve been thru, how can you doubt
The ups an the downs are what lovings about
So dont turn the light out, Im starting to see
Dont turn the light out, youre getting to me
Dont turn the light out, were burning so bright
Dont turn the light out.....dont turn the light out
song performed by by Cliff Richard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow
Grey is the color of cloudy skies
and they can turn black, angry,
white the color round my eyes
and red after a sangri,
but though some rinse like heaven to blue
and purple on occasions,
I'm earthbound, brown, rich soil, a hue
most lustful in persuasions.
Yet grey, red, black, brown, purple, blue
all crown a head with features
like cheeks that blanche when love's not true
or blush at lustful creatures
who like a snake with tasty fruit
ensnare the dormouse lingering
within it's cosy cave tree root
aroused by brilliant fingering!
8.18.08
Reply to GWH's
Do Gray Women Blush?
poem by Linda Hepner
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The Gathering of the Brown-Eyed
The brown eyes came from Asia, where all mystery is true,
Ere the masters of Soul Secrets dreamed of hazel, grey, and blue;
And the Brown Eyes came to Egypt, which is called the gypsies’ home,
And the Brown Eyes went from Egypt and Jerusalem to Rome.
There was strife amongst the Brown Eyes for the false things and the true;
There was war amongst the Brown Eyes for the old gods and the new;
But the old gods live for ever, and their goddesses are bright
In the temples of Old Passions with the Brown Eyes of the White.
The Brown Eyes east, by Africa, they saw and conquered Spain,
And the Brown Eyes marched as Christians till a Brown Eye met a Dane,
The Dane had Brown-Eyed children who in blue eyes took delight—
And a son of blue-eyed sailors, brown-eyed, reads the stars to-night.
Oh, Knowledge from Old Deserts, where the great stars rocked the world!
Oh, courage from grim seaboards, where the Viking ships were hurled!
The clear skin of the Norseman, and the desert strength and sight,
The power to fathom mankind, and the glorious gift to write!
We can look in souls of women, aye! and let them know we do;
We can fix the false eyes earthward; we can meet and match the true;
We can startle Voice from Silence, and from Darkness flash the Light—
And the eyes to fathom Asia are the Brown Eyes of the White.
There’s a legend in the nations that all Brown Eyes once were true,
But were taught in love and warfare by the sinful shades of blue;
There’s a story amongst sinners that all Brown Eyes once were kind,
Till the Steel-Blue struck the Red-Fire in a hatred that was blind.
But the Brown Eyes are the saddest at the death of Love and Truth.
And the Brown Eyes are the grandest and the dreamiest of Youth.
They have risen in rebellion unto leadership sublime—
And the grey-eyed queens of women loved, and love them for all time!
Brown Eyes never married Brown Eyes but unhappiness held sway,
For the real mates of the Brown Eyes have for ever been the grey.
But though Brown Eyes quarrel hotly, though their very souls be wrenched,
Never Blue-Eye wronged a Brown-Eye but the Brown-Eye was avenged!
Through the breadth of wide Australia, waiting desert-like and vast,
We have sent our Brown-Eyed children, who are multiplying fast.
Patriots, picture-writers, sages, fill the Brown-Eyed rolls to-night—
’Tis the gathering from all ages of the Brown-Eyed of the White.
poem by Henry Lawson
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The Upstairs Room
I love it all
These games we play
I close my eyes
You run away
I'm sure i asked you to stay
But now you're gone
And so i feel the grey
Pulse in my head
I turn off the lights and crawl into bed
I try to think of sunshine
But my body goes wet
With the first crash of thunder
I don't think i can know
Anyone but you dear
That's for sure
When it gets to four
It's my turn to go
Oh the kiss
So alcoholic and slow
Arranging me for saturday
I thought you would know
That i always sleep
Alone
I don't think i can know
Anyone but you
Dear
That's for sure
The upstairs room is cool and bright
We can go up there in summer
And dance all night
Your sister started talking at a minute after ten
So everyone jumped up
And then fell over again
In april you can join them
And stare at me
At the ghost from your past
song performed by by Cure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shades of Grey
Black is the color of the night
Grey is the shadow of you I sight
White is the shirt you wear
Black is your suit I declare
White is the wall you lean against
Grey is our path I sensed
Black is the memory I lost
Black is the road we never crossed
Grey is the prospect of the day
Grey is the taxi driving away
Black is the truth to never find you
Black is everything I can't undo
Black is my room without light
White is my color of hope in spite
Grey is the circle around my heart
Black is the truth like a work of art
© 2011
poem by Kristina Louisa Carr
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Grey-eyed mabel
I gazed on orbs of flashing black;
I met the glow of hazel light;
I marked the hue of laughing blue,
That sparkled in the festive night.
But none could fling a lasting spell
To hold me with unchanging power--
The chains they cast were never fast
Beyond the gay and fleeting hour--
Till Grey-eyed Mabel's gentle glance,
With blushing sense and beauty rife,
Bade my soul cry with burning sigh,
'I'm thine, and only thine, for life.'
Black, blue, and hazel stars have set,
But Mabel's grey eyes lead me yet.
What was it in sweet Mabel's eyes
That told me what no others told,
That roused the dull, that pleased the wise,
That charmed the young and cheered the old?
What was it held my world-worn breast
In holy thrall--unknown before?
What was it those grey eyes expressed
That made me worship and adore?
It was the pure and tender ray
That filled those eyes in joy or woe;
It was the beam that could not play
Without the fountain stream below;
It was the beam of simple truth,
Of Woman's faith and trusting Youth.
Those soft, grey eyes were watched by mine
With earnest, deep, and secret prayer;
I knew, I felt, my earthly shrine
Was found and fixed for ever--there.
I poured my heart one moonlit night
Into sweet Mabel's listening ear;
Our mutual vow, from then till now,
Bound each to each--fond, firm, and dear.
Our boys and girls are growing round,
And all give promise, brave and fair,
But one, young cherub form is found
First in my love, my hope, my care.
And why?--ah! why? My soul replies,
'She has dear Mabel's soft, grey eyes.'
poem by Eliza Cook
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Black and White (Stream XV)
I have black thoughts,
It is a black day,
A day when the black dog
Coal black, hovers at my shoulder.
I shoulder the burden.
Deep in the black hole.
Black as a black hearted night.
Negative.
Stark.
Black and white.
I do not call my good days white days.
Why?
Or have white thoughts
On a white day,
When the white dog
Pure white sits upon my shoulder.
Which is unburdened.
Out of the pit,
Luxuriating in the bright white light;
White as the purest snow.
Positive.
For we live in a too white world
Maybe we should have grey days,
And light days.
Why should Black be negative and White poitive?
For me then, today is a grey day.
Maybe tomorrow will be a light day.
Copyright P H Brookes 2012
poem by Paul Brookes
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The Grey World
Grey nights in the wind,
And the grey-faced dead.
Grey hairs in my head,
And grey eyes in my mind.
Grey mists in the morn,
And grey waves that rave,
Grey mould on my grave,
And grey eyes forlorn.
Grey clouds in the sky,
And the grey world asleep,
Grey ghosts that sigh,
And grey eyes that weep.
poem by Leon Gellert
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A Brown Study
LET them sing of their primrose and cowslip,
Their daffodil-gold-coloured hair,
Their bluebells, blue eyes, and white violets,
All the pale dreamy things they find fair;
Give me stir of brown leaves in the sunshine,
The whir of brown wings through the wheat,
The rush of brown hares through the clover,
And the light in brown eyes of my sweet!
Gold hair? Well, I never could love it,
Yet gold, I suppose, has its worth;
The head that I love is as dusky
As the breast of our mother, the earth;
With a gleam like the shine of wet seaweed,
Round pools that the tide has left clear,
And warm like the breast of a linnet,
And as brown, is the hair of my dear.
From the edge of the cliff we look downwards
On the shore, and the bay, and the town,
And brown is the short turf we lean on,
The fishing-boats' sails are all brown:
The sky may be blue--that's the background,--
But the picture itself, to be fair,
However it's shaded and varied,
Should be brown as the dress that you wear.
A lark bursts to sudden sweet singing--
That tuft of brown grass is his home--
And now, a brown speck, he is rising
Against the clear windy sky-dome;
And he sings--how I know? Love instructs me
To know all his notes, what they mean--
That it isn't the colour I care for,
But yourself, oh, my gipsy, my queen!
Ah! the lark knows my heart--I his language;
It's my heart he sings out to the skies;
It is you that I love, and what matter
The colour of hair or of eyes?
No doubt I should love you as dearly
Were your hair like an apricot's down,
And your eyes like the grey of the morning;
But I'm glad, all the same, that they're brown.
poem by Edith Nesbit
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Grey Blue Eyes
I feel for the light
Your glory was lost that night
And no mind can't get me right
And now I'm praying that you'll find me out
Stone, stone has pulled me down
But my faith has got me bound to your grey blue eyes
Oh, oh
Oh, oh
Don't forget my broken heart
You remember it from the start
You made it and it's all a part
Of your grey blue eyes
Oh, oh
Oh, oh
You're gone and I know I'm dead
I've lost my way
Can't find me in your grey blue eyes
Grey blue eyes
Grey blue eyes
Grey blue eyes
song performed by by Dave Matthews Band
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Blue Light
Oh well, here we are again
Lookin 4 something 2 get us in the mood
I tell each and every one of my friends
That the love we make is really pretty rude
But they dont believe me cuz its written all over my face
Like evian and the deep blue sea
U and me got different taste
U like it in the dark but I like a
Blue light
Can u turn on a blue light
Then cuddle up 2 me so tight
Just u and me all night
Alright, blue light
Can u turn on a blue light
Then everything will be alright
Oh, blue light
U say u wish I was shy
I always take a simple thing and push it way 2 far
But baby, thats the problem with u and i
U say not in public but I say in the car
Say, we need to get wild again like it was when we first met
Close your eyes and count 2 ten and when u open em -
Ill be standing naked with nothing but a smile on
Blue light
Can u turn on a blue light
Then cuddle up 2 me so tight
Just u and me all night
Alright, blue light
Can u turn on a blue light
Then everything will be alright
Oh, blue light
Ill be 117
Ull be still sayin baby not 2 nite
Its easy 2 see us on the cover of a magazine
double heart attack, couple both die in a fight
Oh baby! I dont wanna cross that road cuz I love u 2 much
Id do anything just 2 heat up your cold touch
Anything I would do, but up until u tell me 2
Blue light
Can u turn on a blue light
Then cuddle up 2 me so tight
Just u and me all night
Alright, blue light
Can u turn on a blue light
Then everything will be alright
Oh, blue light
Blue light
Can u turn on a blue light (cuddle up 2 me)
So tight
Cuddle up next 2 me baby
U and me all night, alright blue light
Light (u turn on a) blue light
And every thing will be alright
Oooh blue light
Blue light
Blue light
Blue light
Blue light
Blue light
song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Wonderful Painting
A Wonderful Painting
by Alex Lewis
I remember before my mother's art
When I was but an egg.
The painting took color in every part.
One shade is but a leg.
The lavish blues spread across the page like a waving, smiling sea.
The canvas was plain and bare, except the blues, happily set free.
With the blue, I went to play as childish as I may.
The one clam and I sat with ourselves on the whaling bay.
This is me, like a leaf, on my first day at green.
So, all the others spoke; I found that none were mean.
There were dark greens, light ones, and one stuck in the middle.
After math, my friend and I learnt to play the fiddle.
My friend and I continued to play our little tune.
We soon fell in pink to which neither one was immune.
Our pink grew and grew as each day had passed.
Green had ended blue; only pink would last.
We took our pink and ran right through to angry, waiting brown.
Brown was angry for making him wait with a black-white frown.
We explained that blue made us wait for an azure set of eighteen.
He forgave us. My friend, brown, pink, and I live for only one team.
We decided to get the canvas and add a dash of white.
Pink was overwhelmed as white carried on through the love-filled night.
We can add white to family before blue decides to return again.
Red will also join the painting party-Another eighteen before men!
It took a lot of work to make my dear reds come.
I enjoyed the work, but my reds were way more fun.
One red stayed with us, but the other ran away rather young.
Maybe brown kidnapped him early, but strange words travel by tongue.
We turned grey as brown dimmed down, but we swear we've never seen pink more bright!
Brown had completely gone, like both of our reds, but pink still made things light.
I then feared and cried as my pink's grey burned out like a setting sun.
My grey began to fade too, but I was ready. My life was done.
My mother handed me the canvas and the frame,
But I had to add all the colors (none I showed for shame) .
Blue, green, pink, brown, red, grey-my portrait is made of those colors,
But I am just one piece in a gallery, and all of you are the others.
poem by Alex Lewis
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Turn Out The Light
Lover, lover, why is there light
In the itchy gitchy evening and its dark outside
And whats the difference between wrong and right
Wrong and right
Isnt it funny how pain goes away
And then comes back another day
The air feels very good today
Good today
Lover, lover, why is there light
Did you forget to turn off that light
Well thats all right but its way too bright
Way too bright
See the eagle above the hill
The lake reflects and is so still
The tension has gone from my will
From my will
Moon on the mountain shining bright
First there is dark and then there is light
And sometimes the light is way too bright
Its way to bright
Why dont you turn out the light
Oh, turn out the light
Why dont you turn out the light
Turn out the light
Turn out the light
Turn out the light
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Scorflufus
There are many diseases,
That strike people's kneeses,
Scorflufus! is one by name
It comes from the East
Packed in bladders of yeast
So the Chinese must take half the blame.
There's a case in the files
Of Sir Barrington-Pyles
While hunting a fox one day
Shot up in the air
And remained hanging there!
While the hairs on his socks turned grey!
Aye!Scorflufus had struck!
At man, beast, and duck.
And the knees of the world went Bong!
Some knees went Ping!
Other knees turned to string
From Balham to old Hong Kong.
Should you hold your life dear,
Then the remedy's clear,
If you're offered some yeast - don't eat it!
Turn the offer down flat-
Don your travelling hat-
Put an egg in your boot - and beat it!
poem by Spike Milligan
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Depression
Don't want to live
Don't want to die
Sometimes I just need to cry
So I get out paper and pen
Once again depression sneaking in
I'm so lost within my soul
Pain from the past, trying to control
Darkness trying to steal my light
Trying to turn my day, into night
Got myself a brand new life
Need to bury the past, keep out the strife
My mind I struggle with from day to day
Please make the bad stuff, go away
They say that time heals all pain
Will my day come, or is it all in vain?
So once more I need to write
And maybe later, my day turn bright.
poem by Donna Nimmo
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Do Gray Women Blush?
Do gray women blush,
when they’re feeling blue
getting a great rush
for a man who’s new?
Do they ever get,
to their extreme surprise,
suddenly most wet
when they see the size
of the man who made them
blush? The answer’s yes.
I know, because I’ve laid them.
Who are they? You must guess.
Inspired by a sexy dream I had last night, and by comments Roger Scruton makes about blushing in Sexual Desire: A Philosophical Investigation.
This was Linda’s response:
Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow
Grey is the color of cloudy skies
and they can turn black, angry,
white the color round my eyes
and red after a sangri,
but though some rinse like heaven to blue
and purple on occasions,
I'm earthbound, brown, rich soil, a hue
most lustful in persuasions.
Yet grey, red, black, brown, purple, blue
all crown a head with features
like cheeks that blanche when love's not true
or blush at lustful creatures
who like a snake with tasty fruit
ensnare the dormouse lingering
within it's cosy cave tree root
aroused by brilliant fingering!
8/18/08
poem by Gershon Hepner
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Forgiven
I dreamed so dear a dream of you last night!
I thought you came. I was so glad, so gay,
I whispered, 'Those were foolish words to say;
I meant them not. I cannot bear the sight
Of our dear face. I cannot meet the light
Of your dear eyes upon me. Sit, I pray-
Sit here beside me; turn your look away,
And lay your cheek on mine,' Till morning bright
We sat so, and we did not speak. I knew
All was forgiven, so nestled there
With your arms round. Swift the sweet hours flew.
At last I waked, and sought you everywhere.
How long, dear, think you, that my glad cheek will
Burn-as it burns with our cheek's pressure still?
poem by Helen Hunt Jackson
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Nightfall for M'Lady Ernestine
The evening sky in shades of grey.
Light grey, dark, grey, all tinged with gold
Denotes the ending of the day.
I watch entranced as I behold
the darkness falling gradually.
The blue transmutes to indigo,
the last remnants of day light flee.
Reluctantly but they must go.
The stars come slowly into view.
The constellations wheel and turn,
forever old, forever new
and catch your eye each in their turn.
If I but wait the moon will rise.
Each night provides some new surprise.
18-Jul-08
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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A Prayer
Light up my life, my Lord-
turn the darkness to light
light up my heart and sight.
Seemed, sun would rise and be bright
and everywhere there would be light
but all seems in vain
and unbearable is my pain.
Now only shadows meet and I fear
all I see is the face of death near.
Light up my life, my Lord-
like a phoenix, I wish to rise again
and feel the sunbeams and rain
with no fears and sighs
with a new morn in my eyes.
Copyright©2012 Rizvana Parveen
poem by Rizvana Parveen
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