In The Harbour: Chimes
Sweet chimes! that in the loneliness of night
Salute the passing hour, and in the dark
And silent chambers of the household mark
The movements of the myriad orbs of light!
Through my closed eyelids, by the inner sight,
I see the constellations in the arc
Of their great circles moving on, and hark!
I almost hear them singing in their flight.
Better than sleep it is to lie awake,
O'er-canopied by the vast starry dome
Of the immeasurable sky; to feel
The slumbering world sink under us, and make
Hardly an eddy,--a mere rush of foam
On the great sea beneath a sinking keel.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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God Is The Light
God is the Light
How great the wonders of the heavens
And the timeless beauty of the night
How great then how great the Creator?
And its stars like priceless jewels
Far beyond the reach of kings
Bow down for the shepherd guiding him home.
But how many eyes are closed
To the wonder of this night?
Like pearls, hidden, deep beneath a dark
Stream of desires.
But like dreams vanish with the call to prayer
And the dawn extinguishes night here too are signs.
God is the Light - God is the Light
How great the beauty of the Earth and the creatures
Who dwell on her.
How great then how great the Creator?
As it's mountains pierce the clouds
High about the lives of men
Weeping rivers for thousands of years.
But how many hearts are closed
To the wonders of this sight?
Like birds on a cage, asleep with closed wings
But as work stops with the call to prayer
And the birds recite here too are signs
God is the Light God is the Light
How great the works of man and the things he makes
How great then how great the Creator?
Though he strives to reach the heavens
He can barely survive
The wars of the world he lives in.
Yet, how many times he's tried,
Himself to immortalise?
Like his parents before him in the Garden of Eden
But like the sun sets with the call to prayer
And surrenders to the night here too are signs
God is the Light Everlasting
God is the Light Everlasting
song performed by by Cat Stevens
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In That Dark Silent Hour
In that dark silent hour
When the wind wants power,
And in the black height
The sky wants light,
Stirless and black
In utter lack,
And not a sound
Escapes from that untroubled round:--
To wake then
In the dark, and ache then
Until the dark is gone--
Lonely, yet not alone;
Hearing another's breath
All the quiet beneath,
Knowing one sleeps near
That day held dear
And dreams held dear; but now
In this sharp moment--how
Share the moment's sweetness,
Forgo its completeness,
Nor be alone
Now the dark is grown
Spiritual and deep
More than in dreams and sleep?
O, it is pain, 'tis need
That so will plead
For a little loneliness.
If it be pain to miss
Loved touch, look and lip,
Companionship
Yet is verier pain
Then, then
In that dark silent hour
When the wind wants power,
And you, near or far, sleep,
And your released thoughts toward me creep
While I, imprisoned, awake,
Ache--ache
To be for one
Long, little moment with myself alone.
poem by John Freeman
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Weary
Some praise the Lord for Light,
The living spark;
I thank God for the Night
The healing dark.
When wearily I lie,
With aching sight,
With what thanksgiving I
Turn out the light!
When to night's drowsy deep
Serene I sink,
How glad am I to sleep,
To cease to think!
From care and fret set free,
In sweet respite,
With joy I peacefully
Turn out the light.
Lie down thou weary one,
And sink to rest;
Nay, grieve not for the sun,
The dark is best.
So greet with grateful breath
Eternal Night,
When soft the hand of Death
Turns out the light.
poem by Robert William Service
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Night Coming Out Of A Garden
Through the still air of night
Suddenly comes, alone and shrill,
Like the far-off voice of the distant light,
The single piping trill
Of a bird that has caught the scent of the dawn,
And knows that the night is over ;
(She has poured her dews on the velvet lawn
And drenched the long grass and the clover),
And now with her naked white feet
She is silently passing away,
Out of the garden and into the street,
Over the long yellow fields of the wheat,
Till she melts in the arms of the day.
And from the great gates of the East,
With a clang and a brazen blare,
Forth from the rosy wine and the feast
Comes the god with the flame-flaked hair ;
The hoofs of his horses ring
On the golden stones, and the wheels
Of his chariot burn and sing,
And the earth beneath him reels;
And forth with a rush and a rout
His myriad angels run,
And the world is awake with a shout,
' He is coming ! The sun ! The sun ! '
poem by Lord Alfred Douglas
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Ships that Pass in the Night
Out in the sky the great dark clouds are massing;
I look far out into the pregnant night,
Where I can hear the solemn booming gun
And catch the gleaming of a random light,
That tells me that the ship I seek
is passing, passing.
My tearful eyes my soul's deep hurt are glassing;
For I would hail and check that ship of ships.
I stretch my hands imploring, cry aloud,
My voice falls dead a foot from mine own lips,
And but its ghost doth reach that vessel, passing, passing.
O Earth, O Sky, O Ocean, both surpassing,
O heart of mine, O soul that dreads the dark!
Is there no hope for me? Is there no way
That I may sight and check that speeding bark
Which out of sight and sound is passing, passing?
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Summer Nights
Oh, how I hate these hot summer nights,
When a good night's sleep is far from sight.
Lying on my bed, I constantly toss and turn,
While the air around me continuously burns.
My window is slightly ajar to let in some air;
I wonder if I'd be slightly cooler downstairs.
I have rolled down my blanket and my sheet,
But despite doing all this, I still feel the heat.
I watch the clock and the time ticks on by,
But, I just can't sleep, however hard I try.
Feeling restless in the middle of the night,
I climb out of bed and switch on the light.
Feeling so far away from the Land Of Nod,
I sit reading a book and then I play my iPod.
I'm having a bad night, and am not impressed:
I didn't sleep much last night, and need my rest.
As the night draws on, slightly cooler air arrives,
But, by this time, the clock has just struck five.
I hear the little birds singing out at dawn,
And it is only then that I give a big yawn.
My eyelids feel heavy and begin to close,
And, after sleepless hours, I begin to doze.
Finally, I fall asleep: inside my soul feels calm,
But a short time later, I'm woken by the alarm.
By now, my room is flooded by brilliant sunlight;
But I want to stay in bed, with my eyes shut tight.
I feel like I'm almost dead, rather than refreshed;
I certainly don't feel anywhere near my very best.
I don't have much energy: I've no get up and go,
And when I do get up, my movements are slow.
I wish that the temperature at night would dip,
Then I could finally get some much needed kip.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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From The Shore
A lone gray bird,
Dim-dipping, far-flying,
Alone in the shadows and grandeurs and tumults
Of night and the sea
And the stars and storms.
Out over the darkness it wavers and hovers,
Out into the gloom it swings and batters,
Out into the wind and the rain and the vast,
Out into the pit of a great black world,
Where fogs are at battle, sky-driven, sea-blown,
Love of mist and rapture of flight,
Glories of chance and hazards of death
On its eager and palpitant wings.
Out into the deep of the great dark world,
Beyond the long borders where foam and drift
Of the sundering waves are lost and gone
On the tides that plunge and rear and crumble.
poem by Carl Sandburg
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Great Big Man
Rust on your fingers, you got trouble at your feet.
Keep the home fires burning, but look out for the heat
'cause there's a man at the window who knows just what you think,
and there's a water boy behind you who won't give you a drink
Well it's a hard, hard time, no easy road in sight,
it takes a great big man to win a great big fight.
When it comes to dying, no matter what you tell,
They'll let you into a heaven 'cause you lived your life in hell.
Well they've got no way to reward you but to let those breezes blow,
And you've got nothing left to do but to let your anger show.
'Cause it's a hard, hard time, no easy road in sight,
it takes a great big man to win a great big fight.
Think about your baby, think about your wife,
Think about your banker who's trying to take your life.
Think about this planet that's rolling through the night.
Oh can you turn your back on such a great big fight?
You got the muscle, big man, you got the power,
but you're getting weaker with each passing hour.
Just like a flame in the rain, like a light in the night,
well if it's you that must stay, well then it's you that must fight!
'Cause it's a hard, hard time, your future's not bright,
it takes a great big man to win a great big
great big man to win a great big fight.
song performed by by Don McLean
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Standing Still
Cuttin through the darkest night
In my two headlights
Im trying to keep it clear
But Im losing it here
To the twilight
Theres a dead end to my left
Theres a burning bush to my right
You arent in sight
You arent in sight
Do you want me
Like I want you?
Chorus
Or am I standing still?
Beneath the darkened sky
Or am I standing still?
With the scenery flying by
Or am I standing still?
Out of the corner of my eye
Was that you that passed me by?
Mothers on a stoop
Boys in souped-up coupes
On this hot summer night
Between fight and flight
Is the blind mans sight
And the choice thats right
I roll the window down
Feels like Im gonna drown
In this strange town
I feel broken down
I feel broken down
Do you need me
Like I need you?
Chorus
Sweet sorrow is the call tomorrow
Sweet sorrow is the call tomorrow
Do you love me
Like I love you?
Chorus
Oh, youre passing me by
Passing me by
Do you need me like I need you to?
Do you want me like I want you?
Or are you passing me by?
Or am I standing still?
song performed by by Jewel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Today's Wisdom
As I look at life's closed hour-glass
Of all the errors past
I Imagined how things could have been
If sands had shifted fast
But then life, is just a drifting scene
With time a story came to being
Did you know the mind can see?
Even pass the dark blue sea
Do you know the soul can hear?
Even to a silent tear
There only need to set mind free
And then there be a light
A light so full of timeless glee
To ignite a flame in thee
Which warms the soul
To make you whole
Did you know the soul can feel?
Once you have that light
Your conscience will be healed
That day you ‘ll have your sight
copyright (c) 2012
poem by Godfrey Morris
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Serenade
Ah, sweet, thou little knowest how
I wake and passionate watches keep;
And yet while I address thee now,
Methinks thou smilest in thy sleep.
'Tis sweet enough to make me weep,
That tender thought of love and thee,
That while the world is hush'd so deep,
Thy soul's perhaps awake to me!
Sleep on, sleep on, sweet bride of sleep!
With golden visions of thy dower,
While I this midnight vigil keep,
And bless thee in thy silent bower;
To me 'tis sweeter than the power
Of sleep, and fairy dreams unfurl'd,
That I alone, at this still hour,
In patient love outwatch the world.
poem by Thomas Hood
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Cat's Dream
How neatly a cat sleeps,
sleeps with its paws and its posture,
sleeps with its wicked claws,
and with its unfeeling blood,
sleeps with all the rings--
a series of burnt circles--
which have formed the odd geology
of its sand-colored tail.
I should like to sleep like a cat,
with all the fur of time,
with a tongue rough as flint,
with the dry sex of fire;
and after speaking to no one,
stretch myself over the world,
over roofs and landscapes,
with a passionate desire
to hunt the rats in my dreams.
I have seen how the cat asleep
would undulate, how the night
flowed through it like dark water;
and at times, it was going to fall
or possibly plunge into
the bare deserted snowdrifts.
Sometimes it grew so much in sleep
like a tiger's great-grandfather,
and would leap in the darkness over
rooftops, clouds and volcanoes.
Sleep, sleep cat of the night,
with episcopal ceremony
and your stone-carved moustache.
Take care of all our dreams;
control the obscurity
of our slumbering prowess
with your relentless heart
and the great ruff of your tail.
Translated by Alastair Reid
Submitted by Jen
poem by Pablo Neruda
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A Night In A Coastal Village
The lights on, the church bells rung
The namaz over and evening prayers sung.
The day was over, the market bustled for a while
The kites and baloons took the kids for an exile.
There, the deep blue sea turned black,
The hot sun removed its arm back,
The dazzling moon took charge of the night,
From the great roof the stars emerged bright.
The foam rushing ashore glittered as pearls.
The great night falls heralded with singing birds.
There the waves became a bit fiercy,
Telling the tales of other shores with a breeze so icy.
The tall green trees turned dark with the night,
dancing with the invisible breeze in the moon light.
happy content people celebrated the day's retirement
and also gathered for a joyful entertainment.
In the backdropp of melifluous singing and wave's rythm
everything seemed to enjoy in that night's kingdom.
Slowly and slowly the little town was soothed to sleep.
A slight drizzle began wishing them sweet dreams.
poem by Abinaya Saravanan
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At First. To Charlotte Cushman.
My crippled sense fares bow'd along
His uncompanioned way,
And wronged by death pays life with wrong
And I wake by night and dream by day.
And the Morning seems but fatigued Night
That hath wept his visage pale,
And the healthy mark 'twixt dark and light
In sickly sameness out doth fail.
And the woods stare strange, and the wind is dumb,
-- O Wind, pray talk again --
And the Hand of the Frost spreads stark and numb
As Death's on the deadened window-pane.
Still dumb, thou Wind, old voluble friend?
And the middle of the day is cold,
And the heart of eve beats lax i' the end
As a legend's climax poorly told.
Oh vain the up-straining of the hands
In the chamber late at night,
Oh vain the complainings, the hot demands,
The prayers for a sound, the tears for a sight.
No word from over the starry line,
No motion felt in the dark,
And never a day gives ever a sign
Or a dream sets seal with palpable mark.
And O my God, how slight it were,
How nothing, thou All! to thee,
That a kiss or a whisper might fall from her
Down by the way of Time to me:
Or some least grace of the body of love,
-- Mere wafture of floating-by,
Mere sense of unseen smiling above,
Mere hint sincere of a large blue eye,
Mere dim receipt of sad delight
From Nearness warm in the air,
What time with the passing of the night
She also passed, somehow, somewhere.
poem by Sidney Lanier
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The World's Twilight
The hour has come.
What hour?
The two worlds are combining
What worlds?
The worlds of light and dark
Somethings are only visible in the dark or light
The dark, heartless people can't survive in the light
the heartless are trying to kill you,
run to the light
No light may shine on it.
Any lit room is safe
protect your light
Watch your light
let it burn in the night
expect the unexpected
The hour has come
What hour?
Light and dark are combining
Its the hour of Twilight
A very scary and gloomy sight to see
escepially when someone takes it away.
Every world is cut in half
It has a light side and a dark side
Choose what side you will be on.
Always watch your light
poem by Natalie Vail
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Darkness Sets Upon Her
Dark as ebony, dark as night
Dark as the raven in mid flight
Dark as the grave doth her heart grow
Cold and silent as the dead of night
Oh sweet angel of mercy, sweet angel of light
Beckon to her before she takes flight
Speak ever so softly, breath life back into her soul
That she'll not tread life's pathway
A hollow, empty shell full of darkness so foul
That eats away at the radiant light
Which once from the windows of her soul did flow
For quickly doth darkness set upon her
Stealing away what little remains pure
Blackening her heart, blotting out the light
Nevermore to shine, cold and silent as the dead of night
poem by Jennifer Batch
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You make me who I am
When You go down
As a great light in the world....
A gently glowing light....
Every time it rains,
Your words unshackle my soul to freedom
You make me understand who I am.
You make me love You.
You release me
You let me be myself.
And every time I look at You I have tears in my eyes.
And every time I look at You I see my rainbow.
Between the kingfisher's large scream
And the sea waves sound,
The feelings are my feerical abandoned ships.
Come and see your child's face light up
When this child hears Your name as part of a song or story....
I am this child.....
When You come forward with Your Son....
And Your light
Is touching my eyelids,
Is touching my thoughts,
Is touching my ships.
Between this sunrise
And the next sunset,
Red is the same reality,
And my fagged eyelids
Cannot change it.
In addition to the lone gull,
I sit down to look.
In addition to the scream of gull,
I lay out of sight.
I can see the pain and the flight.....
poem by Marieta Maglas
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To the Oracle at Delphi
Great Oracle, why are you staring at me,
do I baffle you, do I make you despair?
I, Americus, the American,
wrought from the dark in my mother long ago,
from the dark of ancient Europa--
Why are you staring at me now
in the dusk of our civilization--
Why are you staring at me
as if I were America itself
the new Empire
vaster than any in ancient days
with its electronic highways
carrying its corporate monoculture
around the world
And English the Latin of our days--
Great Oracle, sleeping through the centuries,
Awaken now at last
And tell us how to save us from ourselves
and how to survive our own rulers
who would make a plutocracy of our democracy
in the Great Divide
between the rich and the poor
in whom Walt Whitman heard America singing
O long-silent Sybil,
you of the winged dreams,
Speak out from your temple of light
as the serious constellations
with Greek names
still stare down on us
as a lighthouse moves its megaphone
over the sea
Speak out and shine upon us
the sea-light of Greece
the diamond light of Greece
Far-seeing Sybil, forever hidden,
Come out of your cave at last
And speak to us in the poet's voice
the voice of the fourth person singular
the voice of the inscrutable future
the voice of the people mixed
with a wild soft laughter--
And give us new dreams to dream,
Give us new myths to live by!
poem by Lawrence Ferlinghetti
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In mother’s lap
In mother’s lap,
A baby finds the world
A world that puts her to sleep of peace & love
And makes her all dreams sweet
The night dancing
Over the little bay happily,
The wind is passing by
Touching her chubby and sweet cheeks,
And gives her the best kiss
So she won’t find any horrible risk,
And all she can have is her sound sleep,
She is not dreaming of a big world,
But a world full of love,
And the mother singing a lullaby
To her
So she won’t have any bad thought
In her mind
And she can have not a sleep only
But the good thought
To make her sleep sweeter
poem by Pushkar Bisht
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The Night Journey
Hands and lit faces eddy to a line;
The dazed last minutes click; the clamour dies.
Beyond the great-swung arc o' the roof, divine,
Night, smoky-scarv'd, with thousand coloured eyes
Glares the imperious mystery of the way.
Thirsty for dark, you feel the long-limbed train
Throb, stretch, thrill motion, slide, pull out and sway,
Strain for the far, pause, draw to strength again. . . .
As a man, caught by some great hour, will rise,
Slow-limbed, to meet the light or find his love;
And, breathing long, with staring sightless eyes,
Hands out, head back, agape and silent, move
Sure as a flood, smooth as a vast wind blowing;
And, gathering power and purpose as he goes,
Unstumbling, unreluctant, strong, unknowing,
Borne by a will not his, that lifts, that grows,
Sweep out to darkness, triumphing in his goal,
Out of the fire, out of the little room. . . .
- There is an end appointed, O my soul!
Crimson and green the signals burn; the gloom
Is hung with steam's far-blowing livid streamers.
Lost into God, as lights in light, we fly,
Grown one with will, end-drunken huddled dreamers.
The white lights roar. The sounds of the world die.
And lips and laughter are forgotten things.
Speed sharpens; grows. Into the night, and on,
The strength and splendour of our purpose swings.
The lamps fade; and the stars. We are alone.
poem by Rupert Brooke (1913)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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