A Stone Sits A Stone
Long oft towards
Where the sun light comes
Under the cover by an old cedar tree
Rest a stone upon a stone
There in a side of a hill
In wavering woods
Waters flow to the valley floor
How you sit
And tended your thoughts
Still, and motionless
Quiet enough to blend with the stone
Listen to the green woods
Beneath the freshing winds
Grows strong sorrow sleeps
Swarms of living life
And passion grows hungry
To the task of lovers lips
poem by Howard Johnson
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Related quotes
Rainy Day Women #12 & 35
Well, they'll stone ya when you're trying to be so good,
They'll stone ya just a-like they said they would.
They'll stone ya when you're tryin' to go home.
Then they'll stone ya when you're there all alone.
But i would not feel so all alone,
Everybody must get stoned.
Well, they'll stone ya when you're walkin' 'long the street.
They'll stone ya when you're tryin' to keep your seat.
They'll stone ya when you're walkin' on the floor.
They'll stone ya when you're walkin' to the door.
But i would not feel so all alone,
Everybody must get stoned.
They'll stone ya when you're at the breakfast table.
They'll stone ya when you are young and able.
They'll stone ya when you're tryin' to make a buck.
They'll stone ya and then they'll say, "good luck."
Tell ya what, i would not feel so all alone,
Everybody must get stoned.
Well, they'll stone you and say that it's the end.
Then they'll stone you and then they'll come back again.
They'll stone you when you're riding in your car.
They'll stone you when you're playing your guitar.
Yes, but i would not feel so all alone,
Everybody must get stoned.
Well, they'll stone you when you walk all alone.
They'll stone you when you are walking home.
They'll stone you and then say you are brave.
They'll stone you when you are set down in your grave.
But i would not feel so all alone,
Everybody must get stoned.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To Turn The Stone
The moon retreats behind a silver cloud
As darkness throws its cloak towards the earth
And mystery replaces what thought we knew
To turn the stone, to turn the stone
The one dimension only shows one side
But do we see the same through different eyes
As you and I peer into lifes kaleidoscope
To turn the stone, to turn the stone
Eternal sands of time shift endlessly
Behind a veil of motionless disguise
An eyelid flash is all it really seems to need
To turn the stone, to turn the stone
To turn the stone, to turn the stone
song performed by by Donna Summer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Einstein, Nicholas, My Fantastic Wife And Our Dog On The Beach At Home
a stone
a relative stone
a meteoric stone
a Newtonian stone
a photoelectric stone
a stone from Manhattan
a thermodynamic stone
one stone
a son
in my life
in my wife
a sun
alone
poem by Nicolas Grenier
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Autumn
Go, sit upon the lofty hill,
And turn your eyes around,
Where waving woods and waters wild
Do hymn an autumn sound.
The summer sun is faint on them --
The summer flowers depart --
Sit still -- as all transform'd to stone,
Except your musing heart.
How there you sat in summer-time,
May yet be in your mind;
And how you heard the green woods sing
Beneath the freshening wind.
Though the same wind now blows around,
You would its blast recall;
For every breath that stirs the trees,
Doth cause a leaf to fall.
Oh! like that wind, is all the mirth
That flesh and dust impart:
We cannot bear its visitings,
When change is on the heart.
Gay words and jests may make us smile,
When Sorrow is asleep;
But other things must make us smile,
When Sorrow bids us weep!
The dearest hands that clasp our hands, --
Their presence may be o'er;
The dearest voice that meets our ear,
That tone may come no more!
Youth fades; and then, the joys of youth,
Which once refresh'd our mind,
Shall come -- as, on those sighing woods,
The chilling autumn wind.
Hear not the wind -- view not the woods;
Look out o'er vale and hill-
In spring, the sky encircled them --
The sky is round them still.
Come autumn's scathe -- come winter's cold --
Come change -- and human fate!
Whatever prospect Heaven doth bound,
Can ne'er be desolate.
poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
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Rainy Day Women #12 35
Well, theyll stone ya when youre trying to be so good,
Theyll stone ya just a-like they said they would.
Theyll stone ya when youre tryin to go home.
Then theyll stone ya when youre there all alone.
But I would not feel so all alone,
Everybody must get stoned.
Well, theyll stone ya when youre walkin long the street.
Theyll stone ya when youre tryin to keep your seat.
Theyll stone ya when youre walkin on the floor.
Theyll stone ya when youre walkin to the door.
But I would not feel so all alone,
Everybody must get stoned.
Theyll stone ya when youre at the breakfast table.
Theyll stone ya when you are young and able.
Theyll stone ya when youre tryin to make a buck.
Theyll stone ya and then theyll say, good luck.
Tell ya what, I would not feel so all alone,
Everybody must get stoned.
Well, theyll stone you and say that its the end.
Then theyll stone you and then theyll come back again.
Theyll stone you when youre riding in your car.
Theyll stone you when youre playing your guitar.
Yes, but I would not feel so all alone,
Everybody must get stoned.
Well, theyll stone you when you walk all alone.
Theyll stone you when you are walking home.
Theyll stone you and then say you are brave.
Theyll stone you when you are set down in your grave.
But I would not feel so all alone,
Everybody must get stoned.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Enigmatic
Within the woodlands dappled shade.
I came across a block of stone
I had no doubt it was man made
Though when and why cannot be known.
So perfect was the craftsmanship
which had been lavished on this stone
A place of ritual worship
It had to be an altar stone.
Though no one worships here today.
The altar stone still stands alone.
Within the woods hidden away
But sadly there is little known.
There’s no recorded history
To help me solve the mystery.
(09 August 2011)
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Written In Stone
I'm gonna take you down to the riverside
Where the water runs slow and wide
There's a big ole rock out in the middle
And I took my hammer and chisel
And worked all night so you could see
Just how much you mean to me
I carved your name right next to mine
And it'll be there till the end of time
And my love will last at least that long
It's written in stone how I feel for you
It's written in stone what I want to do
Spend my life and life hereafter loving you
And darling if we live to be 100
Or if we don't make it half that long
I want you to know how I feel for you
Is written in stone
There's a place on the edge of town
When I was a kid I found
Two names on a stone together
Lying side by side forever
And it was then and there I knew
If I ever thought a love was true
I'd surely want to write it down
On something that would be around
When all the spoken words have come and gone
It's written in stone how I feel for you
It's written in stone what I want to do
Spend my life and life hereafter loving you
And darling if we live to be 100
Or if we don't make it half that long
I want you to know what I feel for you
Is written in stone
And when this life has come and gone
Our love will still be
Written in stone how I feel for you
Written in stone what I want to do
Spend my life and life hereafter loving you
And darling if we live to be 100
Or if we don't make it half that long
I want you to know how I feel for you
Is written in stone
song performed by by Randy Travis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Stone That You Love
you are unique
for having loved a stone
how did the stone
entice you?
are you seduced by
its silence?
are you tempted by
its solitude?
you take the pain
poking the stone to
your heart
and you bleed
you rub the stone
in the skin of your body
hoping that someday
the stone may have
feelings and
love you
but this is all useless
the stone is a stone is a stone
and there is no love
in its blank stare
there is no softness in its
belly
i ponder upon this
and come to think of it
you and the stone
are the same
on this hardheadedness
this futility
this numbness
this suffering without end
the stone can never give
a part of its cracks
it will never part with its
dust
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Buried Love
I have come to bury Love
Beneath a tree,
In the forest tall and black
Where none can see.
I shall put no flowers at his head,
Nor stone at his feet,
For the mouth I loved so much
Was bittersweet.
I shall go no more to his grave,
For the woods are cold.
I shall gather as much of joy
As my hands can hold.
I shall stay all day in the sun
Where the wide winds blow, --
But oh, I shall cry at night
When none will know.
poem by Sara Teasdale
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Introductory Lines (The Shadowy Waters)
I walked among the seven woods of Coole:
Shan-walla, where a willow-hordered pond
Gathers the wild duck from the winter dawn;
Shady Kyle-dortha; sunnier Kyle-na-no,
Where many hundred squirrels are as happy
As though they had been hidden by green bough's
Where old age cannot find them; Paire-na-lee,
Where hazel and ash and privet blind the paths:
Dim Paire-na-carraig, where the wild bees fling
Their sudden fragrances on the green air;
Dim Paire-na-tarav, where enchanted eyes
Have seen immortal, mild, proud shadows walk;
Dim Inchy wood, that hides badger and fox
And marten-cat, and borders that old wood
Wise Buddy Early called the wicked wood:
Seven odours, seven murmurs, seven woods.
I had not eyes like those enchanted eyes,
Yet dreamed that beings happier than men
Moved round me in the shadows, and at night
My dreams were clown by voices and by fires;
And the images I have woven in this story
Of Forgael and Dectora and the empty waters
Moved round me in the voices and the fires,
And more I may not write of, for they that cleave
The waters of sleep can make a chattering tongue
Heavy like stone, their wisdom being half silence.
How shall I name you, immortal, mild, proud shadows?
I only know that all we know comes from you,
And that you come from Eden on flying feet.
Is Eden far away, or do you hide
From human thought, as hares and mice and coneys
That run before the reaping-hook and lie
In the last ridge of the barley? Do our woods
And winds and ponds cover more quiet woods,
More shining winds, more star-glimmering ponds?
Is Eden out of time and out of space?
And do you gather about us when pale light
Shining on water and fallen among leaves,
And winds blowing from flowers, and whirr of feathers
And the green quiet, have uplifted the heart?
I have made this poem for you, that men may read it
Before they read of Forgael and Dectora,
As men in the old times, before the harps began,
Poured out wine for the high invisible ones.
poem by William Butler Yeats
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The Shadowy Waters
I walked among the seven woods of Coole:
Shan-walla, where a willow-hordered pond
Gathers the wild duck from the winter dawn;
Shady Kyle-dortha; sunnier Kyle-na-no,
Where many hundred squirrels are as happy
As though they had been hidden hy green houghs
Where old age cannot find them; Paire-na-lee,
Where hazel and ash and privet hlind the paths:
Dim Pairc-na-carraig, where the wild bees fling
Their sudden fragrances on the green air;
Dim Pairc-na-tarav, where enchanted eyes
Have seen immortal, mild, proud shadows walk;
Dim Inchy wood, that hides badger and fox
And marten-cat, and borders that old wood
Wise Buddy Early called the wicked wood:
Seven odours, seven murmurs, seven woods.
I had not eyes like those enchanted eyes,
Yet dreamed that beings happier than men
Moved round me in the shadows, and at night
My dreams were clown hy voices and by fires;
And the images I have woven in this story
Of Forgael and Dectora and the empty waters
Moved round me in the voices and the fires,
And more I may not write of, for they that cleave
The waters of sleep can make a chattering tongue
Heavy like stone, their wisdom being half silence.
How shall I name you, immortal, mild, proud shadows?
I only know that all we know comes from you,
And that you come from Eden on flying feet.
Is Eden far away, or do you hide
From human thought, as hares and mice and coneys
That run before the reaping-hook and lie
In the last ridge of the barley? Do our woods
And winds and ponds cover more quiet woods,
More shining winds, more star-glimmering ponds?
Is Eden out of time and out of space?
And do you gather about us when pale light
Shining on water and fallen among leaves,
And winds blowing from flowers, and whirr of feathers
And the green quiet, have uplifted the heart?
I have made this poem for you, that men may read it
Before they read of Forgael and Dectora,
As men in the old times, before the harps began,
Poured out wine for the high invisible ones.
poem by William Butler Yeats
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Shadowy Waters: Introductory Lines
I walked among the seven woods of Coole:
Shan-walla, where a willow-hordered pond
Gathers the wild duck from the winter dawn;
Shady Kyle-dortha; sunnier Kyle-na-no,
Where many hundred squirrels are as happy
As though they had been hidden hy green houghs
Where old age cannot find them; Paire-na-lee,
Where hazel and ash and privet hlind the paths:
Dim Pairc-na-carraig, where the wild bees fling
Their sudden fragrances on the green air;
Dim Pairc-na-tarav, where enchanted eyes
Have seen immortal, mild, proud shadows walk;
Dim Inchy wood, that hides badger and fox
And marten-cat, and borders that old wood
Wise Buddy Early called the wicked wood:
Seven odours, seven murmurs, seven woods.
I had not eyes like those enchanted eyes,
Yet dreamed that beings happier than men
Moved round me in the shadows, and at night
My dreams were clown hy voices and by fires;
And the images I have woven in this story
Of Forgael and Dectora and the empty waters
Moved round me in the voices and the fires,
And more I may not write of, for they that cleave
The waters of sleep can make a chattering tongue
Heavy like stone, their wisdom being half silence.
How shall I name you, immortal, mild, proud shadows?
I only know that all we know comes from you,
And that you come from Eden on flying feet.
Is Eden far away, or do you hide
From human thought, as hares and mice and coneys
That run before the reaping-hook and lie
In the last ridge of the barley? Do our woods
And winds and ponds cover more quiet woods,
More shining winds, more star-glimmering ponds?
Is Eden out of time and out of space?
And do you gather about us when pale light
Shining on water and fallen among leaves,
And winds blowing from flowers, and whirr of feathers
And the green quiet, have uplifted the heart?
I have made this poem for you, that men may read it
Before they read of Forgael and Dectora,
As men in the old times, before the harps began,
Poured out wine for the high invisible ones.
poem by William Butler Yeats
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Woods
My sorrow lives in the woods.
I cannot complain to anyone.
I must bear it to the woods
in the deepest loneliness.
If ever in future times
someone comes for that reason
he can find in the woods
the shy sorrow of my heart.
When he sees far off in the woods,
alone and quiet,
the deepest shadows lying,
that is my somber sorrow
poem by James Comerford
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Silence Of Stone (revised)
take a stone,
from the beginning it was
a stone in form
and color and smell
and stone to stone
it shall be stone
unless you take it
in your hand
and keep it warm
in the hold of your palm
and take it home with you
you talk to it
and then it becomes
beyond itself
now
it is not just a stone
but your beloved
your lover
you will discover
that its silence also speaks
in tongues
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Existence First, Then Essence
take a stone,
from the beginning it was
a stone in form
and color and smell
and stone to stone
it shall be stone
unless you take it
in your hand
and keep it warm
in the hold of your palm
and take it home with you
you talk to it
and then it becomes
beyond itself
now
it is not just a stone
but your beloved
your lover
you will discover
that its silence also speaks
in tongues
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Steppin' Stone
(i'm not your) steppin' stone
By tommy boyce and bobby hart
I i i i i'm not your stepping stone
I i i i i'm not your stepping stone
You're trying to make your mark in society
Your using all the tricks that you used on me.
You're reading all them high fashion magazines
The clothes you're wearin' girl are causing public scenes.
I said
I i i i i'm not your stepping stone
I i i i i'm not your stepping stone
Not your stepping stone,
Not your stepping stone.
When i first met you girl you didn't have no shoes
Now you're walking 'round like you're front page news.
You've been awful careful 'bout the friends you choose
But you won't find my name in your book of who's who.
I said
I i i i i'm not your stepping stone
I i i i i'm not your stepping stone
Not your stepping stone,
Not your stepping stone.
song performed by by Monkees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Man - A Macrocosm Of Nature's Intelligence
this hair
on its own
is no life
this stone
solitary
on the floor
is no life
the air on
the wind
is no life
let it steal
into the man
and the plant
a whole world
starts to churn
and soil with
the stone too
start becoming life
into the plant
into the man
the sun on
its own is no life
take him out
everything
stops to glow
the tree, man and
sun, stone....
this hair
on its own
is dead
throw in the man
throw in the plant
and the air
and the sun
and the stone
everything
starts
to grow
nature seeps,
breathes
through each
and everything
jigsaw puzzle
the man himself
a macrocosm
of its intelligence
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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To M.H.
Our walk was far among the ancient trees:
There was no road, nor any woodman's path;
But a thick umbrage--checking the wild growth
Of weed and sapling, along soft green turf
Beneath the branches--of itself had made
A track, that brought us to a slip of lawn,
And a small bed of water in the woods.
All round this pool both flocks and herds might drink
On its firm margin, even as from a well,
Or some stone-basin which the herdsman's hand
Had shaped for their refreshment; nor did sun,
Or wind from any quarter, ever come,
But as a blessing to this calm recess,
This glade of water and this one green field.
The spot was made by Nature for herself;
The travellers know it not, and 'twill remain
Unknown to them; but it is beautiful;
And if a man should plant his cottage near,
Should sleep beneath the shelter of its trees,
And blend its waters with his daily meal,
He would so love it, that in his death-hour
Its image would survive among his thoughts:
And therefore, my sweet MARY, this still Nook,
With all its beeches, we have named from You!
poem by William Wordsworth
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(I'm Not Your) Steppin' Stone
I I I I I'm not your stepping stone
I I I I I'm not your stepping stone
You're trying to make your mark in society
Using all the tricks that you used on me.
You're reading all those high fashion magazines
The clothes you're wearin' girl are causing public scenes.
I said
I I I I I'm not your stepping stone
I I I I I'm not your stepping stone
Not your stepping stone,
Not your stepping stone.
When I first met you girl you didn't have no shoes
Now you're walking 'round like you're front page news.
You've been awful careful 'bout the friends you choose
But you won't find my name in your book of Who's Who.
I said
I I I I I'm not your stepping stone
I I I I I'm not your stepping stone
Not your stepping stone,
Not your stepping stone
song performed by by Monkees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Son (Liam)
Quiet tenderness
Tranquil soul
Stone still
Stone thought
A library of thought in his
Gentle eyes
Beneath an ocean roils
Beneath an epic is forged
Beneath the hero wanders
Waits with quiet masks
And worlds to conquer
poem by Guillermo Veloso
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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