Pebbles
I
Though the Clerk of the Weather insist,
And lay down the weather-law,
Pintado and gannet they wist
That the winds blow whither they list
In tempest or flaw.
II
Old are the creeds, but stale the schools,
Revamped as the mode may veer,
But Orm from the schools to the beaches
strays
And, finding a Conch hoar with time, he
delays
And reverent lifts it to ear.
That Voice, pitched in far monotone,
Shall it swerve? shall it deviate ever?
The Seas have inspired it, and Truth--
Truth, varying from sameness never.
III
In hollows of the liquid hills
Where the long Blue Ridges run,
The flattery of no echo thrills,
For echo the seas have none;
Nor aught that gives man back man's strain--
The hope of his heart, the dream in his brain.
IV
On ocean where the embattled fleets repair,
Man, suffering inflictor, sails on sufferance
there.
V
Implacable I, the old Implacable Sea:
Implacable most when most I smile serene--
Pleased, not appeased, by myriad wrecks in
me.
VI
Curled in the comb of yon billow Andean,
Is it the Dragon's heaven-challenging crest?
Elemental mad ramping of ravening waters--
Yet Christ on the Mount, and the dove in
her nest!
VII
Healed of my hurt, I laud the inhuman Sea--
Yea, bless the Angels Four that there convene;
For healed I am ever by their pitiless breath
Distilled in wholesome dew named rosmarine.
poem by Herman Melville
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Related quotes
Healed of My Hurt
Healed of my hurt, I laud the inhuman Sea--
Yea, bless the Angels Four that there convene;
For healed I am even by the pitiless breath
Distilled in wholesome dew named rosmarine.
poem by Herman Melville
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Leaving This Man Alone
I'm still working
Always working
For the next bill, no time for thrills.
Sir you must head in to those hills.
Mine till sun comes down.
Just to make it home in time to go to bed.
Far away is where I'm going again.
The benefits within.
The wounds are slowly healing.
Agony, I love it here and love it their.
Making a life out of despair.
Have to do what you have to do.
Surving just to make it through.
I got you, you, you, and you.
A million different conversations.
I smile with aggravation.
What a revelation
Look at me now.
Just keeping my head above the ground.
Anyway I know how.
With heaven, lord let me just make it to the skies.
Time just flies by.
With wings it soars.
Come on now.
I will march upon the fields like anyone else.
I am man and I don't give a damn.
Not cause I don't want to.
But sometimes you just have no choice.
Echo's, echo's, echo's my voice.
For life is precious, and sometimes their is no time to rejoice.
Let the heart beat, let the sweat pour.
It's the only way I like it anymore.
Another no reward.
A master of nothing falls on his own swords.
A little of this and that.
Always moderation.
Even on my own free time.
I trying to figure how to make the green.
Ugly as sin.
Where does it end.
A new job doing the same thing.
Sometimes it must be gained.
A man of the insane.
With no complaints.
Not a saint.
I know where I stand, and I know where,
Oh echo's echo's echo's my voice, 'you do'.
No argument here.
To each their own.
So just leave this man alone.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Adieu
Waving whispering trees,
What do you say to the breeze
And what says the breeze to you?
'Mid passing souls ill at ease,
Moving murmuring trees,
Would ye ever wave an Adieu?
Tossing turbulent seas,
Winds that wrestle with these,
Echo heard in the shell,—
'Mid fleeting life ill at ease,
Restless ravening seas,—
Would the echo sigh Farewell?
Surging sumptuous skies,
For ever a new surprise,
Clouds eternally new,—
Is every flake that flies,
Widening wandering skies,
For a sign—Farewell, Adieu?
Sinking suffering heart
That know'st how weary thou art,—
Soul so fain for a flight,—
Aye, spread your wings to depart,
Sad soul and sorrowing heart,—
Adieu, Farewell, Good-night.
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti (1876)
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The Amateur Photographer
Beware of those who slyly pilch
In many cunning ways;
Beware of little lyres that filch
From undisputed bays!
Beware the tumbler's beaded brim,
The ass in fiercer fur;
But most of all beware of him
Who makes my pen to stir--
THe Insecure
And Amateur
Implacable Photographer!
Beware lest, thieving for your thirst,
An earwig's in the plum!
Beware of folly, gay at first,
That later makes you glum!
Beware of pits when stars are dim,
The tooth of vagrant cur;
But most of all beware of him
That makes my pen to stir--
The masterful
Disasterful
Implacable Photographer!
Beware of angling in a stream
Whose trout are not for you;
Beware of trusting in a dream
That's gone before the dew!
Beware of truckling to a whim;
Of folks that always purr;
But most of all beware of him
That makes my pen to stir--
The premature
And Amateur
Implacable Photographer!
poem by Norman Rowland Gale
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The Relic Taken, What Avails The Shrine?
THE relic taken, what avails the shrine?
The locket, pictureless? O heart of mine,
Art thou not worse than that,
Still warm, a vacant nest where love once sat?
Her image nestled closer at my heart
Than cherished memories, healed every smart
And warmed it more than wine
Or the full summer sun in noon-day shine.
This was the little weather gleam that lit
The cloudy promontories - the real charm was
That gilded hills and woods
And walked beside me thro' the solitudes.
The sun is set. My heart is widowed now
Of that companion-thought. Alone I plough
The seas of life, and trace
A separate furrow far from her and grace.
poem by Robert Louis Stevenson
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The Peasants' Revolt
THRO' the mists of years,
Thro' the lies of men,
Your bloody sweat and tears,
Your desperate hopes and fears
Reach us once again,
Brothers, who long ago,
For life's bitter sake,
Toiled and suffered so,
Robbery, insult, blow,
Rope and sword and stake:
Toiled and suffered, till
It burst, the brightening hope,
'Might and right' and 'will and skill,'
That scorned, and does, and will,
Sword and stake and rope!
Wat and Jack and John,
Tyler, Straw, and Ball,
Souls that faltered not,
Hearts like white iron hot,
Still we hear your call!
Yes, your 'bell is rung,'
Yes, for 'now is time!'
Come hither, every one,
Brave ghosts whose day's not done,
Avengers of old Crime,
Come and lead the way,
Hushed, implacable,
Suffering no delay,
Forgetting not that day
Dreadful, hateful, fell.
When the liar King,
The liar Gentlemen,
Wrought that foulest thing,
Robbing, murdering,
Men who trusted them!
Come and lead the way,
Hushed, implacable.
What shall stop us, say,
On that day, our day? —
Not unloosened hell!
poem by Francis William Lauderdale Adams
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No Title
Title less
The ship sails on plowing
the surface
of eternity´s echo.
Where new dogmas
will be born,
man die in the name
of a deity.
The ship sails on seas
of timelessness
till the echo ceases.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Finally Free
The wound has healed
The scars are sealed
I can't feel it
Anymore
She can have you
I don't care
I'm am finally free
With nothing to hinder me
Do as you like
Do as you please
But nothing you do can hurt me
Watching you with others
Makes me smile
I am healed
poem by Autumn Winds
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Conviction
Who has tested the waters that cannot say
that he has been tossed around?
Stormy seas take a toll on our lives
and pound us into the ground.
We steer our ships into the gales
with the winds blowing full force.
We try to avoid the consequences
by attempting to change course.
But sometimes it's not that easy to do
if the wind's not at your back.
And so it is that so many find
they're off the beaten track.
It's then we become discouraged
and wonder what we should do?
It's never an easy decision
and maybe you'll think you are through.
But somehow many gather strength
from fair-weather winds that blow.
They search their hearts and let misery leave
and move along with the flow.
They find conviction from deep within
and defy the stormy seas
and slowly they pick themselves up again
and sail along with the breeze.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Maybe Baby
I heard stories about you
Id like to think that they were true
I did not know youd be like that
With those surprises under hat
Be my (echo), be my (echo), be my maybe baby
Be my (echo), be my (echo), be my maybe baby
Be my (echo), be my (echo), be my maybe baby
When you dance between the stars
In the night late sweet and dark
Turn them over one by one
You dont need to jump the gun
Be my (echo), be my (echo), be my maybe baby
Be my (echo), be my (echo), be my maybe baby
Be my (echo), be my (echo), be my maybe baby
When the night is feeling flush
And when the night is all a hush
Electric look eclectic blue
Keep one dream that wont come true
Be my (echo), be my (echo), be my maybe baby
Be my (echo), be my (echo), be my maybe baby
Be my (echo), be my (echo), be my ma-aybe baby
Be my (echo), be my (echo), be my ma-aybe baby
Maybe baby
Maybe baby
Be my, be my, be my, be my maybe baby
Maybe baby
Maybe baby
Youre the one (? )
Maybe baby
Maybe baby
Maybe baby
Be my, be my, be my, be my maybe baby
(unintelligible) maybe baby
I heard stories about you
Id like to think that they were true
Be my maybe (? )
Be my, be my, be my, be my
(fade)
song performed by by Cars
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The war Widow
I.
Black-veiled, black-gowned, she rides in bus and train,
With eyes that fill too listlessly for tears.
Her waxen hands clasp and unclasp again.
_Good News_, they cry. She neither sees nor hears.
Good News, perhaps, may crown some far-off king.
Good News may peal the glory of the state--
Good News may cause the courts of heaven to ring.
She sees a hand waved at a garden gate.
For her dull ears are tuned to other themes;
And her dim eyes can never see aright.
She glides--a ghost--through all her April dreams,
To meet his eyes at dawn, his lips at night.
Wraiths of a truth that others never knew;
And yet--for her--the only truth that's true.
II.
_Good News! Good News!_ There is no way but this.
Out of the night a star begins to rise.
I know not where my soul's deep Master is;
Nor can I hear those angels in the skies;
Nor follow him, as childhood used of old,
By radiant seas, in those time-hallowed tales.
Only, at times, implacable and cold,
From this blind gloom, stand out the iron nails.
Yet, at this world's heart stands the Eternal Cross,
The ultimate frame of moon and star and sun,
Where Love with out-stretched arms, in utter loss,
Points East and West and makes the whole world one.
_Good News! Good News!_ There is no hope, no way,
No truth, no life, but leads through Christmas Day.
poem by Alfred Noyes
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Echo
Echo, echo...
We come, we go-woah
No I don't want to be just another
Echo, echo...
Everywhere I go
There's something I really need
Everyone I know
Is someone I want to be
Even though
I don't really know me
I better pick it up
Before I let it slip away
I better stick it out
Before I take another day
Into mouth
Everything I say fades out
Echo, echo...
We come, we go-woah
No I don't want to be just another
Echo, echo...
Can I open up your eyes?
Only when the clouds break?
Can I feel the light?
Even though the world shakes
Every night,
You're my quiet satellite
Can I hold you close?
Do her out of focus
And everything I know
I don't even know this
It all falls through
I'm here and I hear you
Echo, echo...
We come, we go-woah
No I don't want to be just another
Echo, echo...
Do you hear me?
Do you hear me?
Cause I need to, just to reach you
Do you hear me?
Coming clearly?
Am I hollow?
Just an echo
Echo, echo...
We come, we go-woah
No I don't want to be just another
Echo, echo...
Echo, echo...
We come, we go-woah
No I don't want to be just another
Echo, echo...
song performed by by Vertical Horizon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Four Strong Winds
Think I'll go out to Alberta
Weather's good there in the fall
I got some friends that I could go to working for.
Still I wish you'd change your mind
If I ask you one more time
But we've been through this a hundred times or more.
Chorus: Four strong winds that blow lonely
Seven seas that run high
All those things that don't change come what may.
If all the good times are all gone
Then I'm bound for movin' on
I'll look for you if I'm ever back this way.
If I get there before the snow flies
And if things are lookin' good
You could meet me if I send you down the fare.
But, by then it would be winter
Not too much for you to do
And those winds sure can blow cold 'way out there.
Chorus: Four strong winds that blow lonely
Seven seas that run high
All those things that don't change come what may.
If all the good times are all gone
Then I'm bound for movin' on
I'll look for you if I'm ever back this way.
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Qua Cursum Ventus
AS ships, becalmed at eve, that lay
With canvas drooping, side by side,
Two towers of sail at dawn of day
Are scarce long leagues apart descried;
When fell the night, upsprung the breeze, 5
And all the darkling hours they plied,
Nor dreamt but each the self-same seas
By each was cleaving, side by side:
E’en so—but why the tale reveal
Of those, whom year by year unchanged,
Brief absence joined anew to feel,
Astounded, soul from soul estranged?
At dead of night their sails were filled,
And onward each rejoicing steered—
Ah, neither blame, for neither willed,
Or wist, what first with dawn appeared!
To veer, how vain! On, onward strain,
Brave barks! In light, in darkness too,
Through winds and tides one compass guides:
To that, and your own selves, be true.
But O blithe breeze; and O great seas,
Though ne’er, that earliest parting past,
On your wide plain they join again,
Together lead them home at last.
One port, methought, alike they sought,
One purpose hold where’er they fare,—
O bounding breeze, O rushing seas!
At last, at last, unite them there!
poem by Arthur Hugh Clough
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Ocean Blue
Well you took me home
And you took me back
But deep down inside
The feeling just died and i
Couldnt see why
From indigo to royal blue
I travel far but no one will do
Anytime, anyplace
Every shape every face
Brings memories of you
Blue to be blue
To be blue
Ocean blue
Blue to be blue
To be blue
Ocean blue - ocean blue
Fair weather friends might drift away
When summer ends and skies burn grey
So I walk to the ocean
Pilot these shores
Just thinking of you
Its time we kissed the clouds goodbye
From now on its strictly blue sky
Come rain and shine
The outlook is still fine
Im thinking of you
Blue to be blue
To be blue
Ocean blue
Blue to be blue
To be blue
Ocean blue - ocean blue
Blue to be blue
To be blue
Ocean blue, ocean blue
Ocean blue, ocean blue
Ocean blue, ocean blue
Ocean blue, ocean ocean
Ocean, ocean
Blue to be blue
To be blue
Ocean blue
Blue to be blue
To be blue
Ocean blue - ocean blue
I stand at the head of the queue
Theres mutinys every crew
Wishin and wonderin bout you
Ocean blue
song performed by by Abc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Beacon Fires Upon The Shore
Silent shadow ships
still sail saline seas
spent storm reborn
unobserved
phantom minstrels
unrecorded
uncharted spectres
ink fading entries
in official antique ledger.
Oh resurgent resurrection joy
forthwith lamp-lit weather
watching fleet flying fully rigged
schooner clipper windjammer
cut saline tacking windward course
through grinding salt-spitting teeth
of fabled force-ten gale or savage storm
while attempting to round Cape Horn
voyages echo through maritime history.
Sailing silent on upon
a roaring time forgotten
rough weathered livelihood
soul-sucking feared maelstorm
romantic raging to hot doldrum
breeze wind wave ebb ocean
as forthcoming future ships
on maiden voyage will sail on
upon all event variant seas.
From calm through tempest gales
horizonless beautified seas
retain unique unfathomed mysteries
as spatial spectral ships journey on
into illimitable port passing history.
From wrecks to profit salvage
from sinking to lay-ups or cut-ups
voyages turn into new history
into spectrum maritime mystery.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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To an Echo on the Banks of the Hunter
I hear thee, echo! And I start to hear thee
With a strange shock, as from among the hills
Thy voice, reverbering in swift murmurs near me,
Dies down the stream, or with its gurgle low
Blends whisperingly, until my bosom thrills
With gentle tribulations that endear thee,
But speak not of the present. Twas as though
Some spirit of the past were then a-near thee,
Bringing back days of life’s regretted spring,
Waking wild recollections, to evince
How strong the ties that bind me to each thing
Loved, though long since.
It seems but yesterday that last I stood
Beside the Hawksbury, even as now I stand
By the swift Hunter, challenging o’er the flood
An echo thus; but with a glorious brood
Of hopes then glowing round me, and a band
Of schoolmates and young creatures of my blood,
All quick with joyousness beyond command,
And now, with that delightful time, O! Where
Are those quick joys, glad mates, and hopes of good?
Echo, declare!
Thy voice comes o’er the waters in reply,
To fail as soon! And all those young delights
Decayed (as thy peculiar accents die)
In the dusk valleys of past days and nights
To be renewed not, like thy ghostly chide;
And one to the other of those joyous creatures,
Now burthened with their manhoods, in the wide
World’s separations, have the names and features
Thus wasted out of mind. And so, at last,
Those glorious hopes are all become but lonely
And dying echoes of the hollow past,
All but one only.
E’en that around my being only strays
Like a recurring sound. In lonesome ways’
Like these it moves me still; not as of yore
In clear, strong tones, though yet its spirit plays
Upon the same old promise: that, when o’er
My country’s homes shine fair those riper days,
Her better sons shall learn to prize
My lonely voice upon the past,
And so, there may at last
From time’s dim void, an echo, thence arise,
Responsive to the swell
Of their full souls beneath these Austral skies.
poem by Charles Harpur
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Words
Flowery words may tickle the ears; even delight the person who hears.
Flowery words are not what I choose, if you desire to just be amused.
For I am truly not a poet my friend, and poetry is not my ultimate end.
Poetry is simply my chosen venue, this to share God’s Truth with you.
The words of men who went before, these are the words I underscore.
They may not be the poet’s choice, but they echo that important voice,
That one who spoke words of Life, The Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.
Words echoed today for you and I, and this long after our Savior died.
Words of Truth are what I impart, hoping to comfort or change a heart.
Changing souls one heart at a time, for this is Christ’s humble design.
His words are not meant to enthrall, but be a hope and comfort for all.
The words not meant to entertain, but address the issue of sin’s stain.
I will continue to write as I’m moved, for friend I have nothing to prove.
And friend you have nothing to lose, as it is His Truth that you choose.
His words of Truth are tried and true, the words that I share with you.
My friend, the end of each poem, for me, is one page closer to home.
It is simply a poem at the start, but then The Spirit moves in my heart,
And The Spirit’s words fill my pen, with The Savior’s hope for all men.
As I echo all these men of the past, it is a Hope that will eternally last.
When I enter my heavenly abode, a place above I’ll forever call Home.
(Copyright ©03/2006)
A Farewell
Good-bye, good-bye; it is not hard to part!
You have my heart--the heart that leaps to hear
Your name called by an echo in a dream;
You have my soul that, like an untroubled stream,
Reflects your soul that leans so dear, so near -
Your heartbeats set the rhythm for my heart.
What more could Life give if we gave her leave
To give, and Life should give us leave to take?
Only each other's arms, each other's eyes,
Each other's lips, the clinging secrecies
That are but as the written words to make
Records of what the heart and soul achieve.
This, only this we yield, my love, my friend,
To Fate's implacable eyes and withering breath.
We still are yours and mine, though, by Time's theft,
My arms are empty and your arms bereft.
It is not hard to part--not harder than Death;
And each of us must face Death in the end!
poem by Edith Nesbit
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God’s Healing Hand
Almighty God’s healing hand, can touch the heart and soul of man,
The same hand which heals ills, can straighten out our twisted wills.
Christ who healed the multitudes, also healed hearts and attitudes,
The Lord can redirect any life, away from pains and darkened strife.
God will meet you where you are, dear friend, be it near or be it far.
For God leads a lost sinful soul, to His Son, who makes him whole.
He will give you new found sight, and put you on a path that’s right.
God will meet you in your night, to guide you out with His pure light.
Taking you from where you’ve been, by His Son, who heals our sin.
He then takes you to a higher place, as He leads you by His Grace.
God’s Eternal Healing for every life, is in the power of Jesus Christ.
Through His stripes we are healed, this is what Isaiah has revealed,
Stripes He received upon the cross, where Christ died for all the lost.
Isaiah and others had prophesied, about Christ who came and died,
Well before Christ walked on earth, well before Christ’s humble birth.
Although Christ healed many friend, He came to show a better end,
As all who one day leave this life, can live forever with Jesus Christ.
The stripes that He did receive, spiritually healed all who did believe.
Even today the stripes He bore, for men lead to God’s Eternal shore.
Beyond is eternal life, not death, eternal health and Heaven’s breath.
(Copyright ©07/2006)