Scope of time
I who write
Shall have long since gone away
Into the region of shadows
And those who read
Are among the living
Strange things happen
Through the centuries
Flasks of aged wine
Stand waiting to be drunk
The wine cannot quench your thirst
You become a small particle
In the scope of time
The region is a shadow
Light and darkness meet
And do battle.
poem by Howard Johnson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Wine (Love Poem)
Wine is for laughing
Wine is for talking all night
Wine is for living life out loud
Wine is for making us beautiful
Wine is for all-night conversations
Wine is for getting together again
Wine is for ‘never again’ tomorrow
Wine is for sleeping like a baby
Wine is for telling the truth
Wine is food for love
Wine is friendship
Wine is fresh
Wine
Can
Be
The
One
Perfe ct
Companion
At the end of a long day
poem by Ian Beckett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Drinking Alone in the Moonlight
Amongst the flowers I
am alone with my pot of wine
drinking by myself; then lifting
my cup I asked the moon
to drink with me, its reflection
and mine in the wine cup, just
the three of us; then I sigh
for the moon cannot drink,
and my shadow goes emptily along
with me never saying a word;
with no other friends here, I can
but use these two for company;
in the time of happiness, I
too must be happy with all
around me; I sit and sing
and it is as if the moon
accompanies me; then if I
dance, it is my shadow that
dances along with me; while
still not drunk, I am glad
to make the moon and my shadow
into friends, but then when
I have drunk too much, we
all part; yet these are
friends I can always count on
these who have no emotion
whatsoever; I hope that one day
we three will meet again,
deep in the Milky Way.
Version 2
Beneath the blossoms with a pot of wine,
No friends at hand, so I poured alone;
I raised my cup to invite the moon,
Turned to my shadow, and we became three.
Now the moon had never learned about drinking,
And my shadow had merely followed my form,
But I quickly made friends with the moon and my shadow;
To find pleasure in life, make the most of the spring.
Whenever I sang, the moon swayed with me;
Whenever I danced, my shadow went wild.
Drinking, we shared our enjoyment together;
Drunk, then each went off on his own.
But forever agreed on dispassionate revels,
We promised to meet in the far Milky Way.
Alone And Drinking Under The Moon
Amongst the flowers I
am alone with my pot of wine
drinking by myself; then lifting
my cup I asked the moon
to drink with me, its reflection
and mine in the wine cup, just
the three of us; then I sigh
for the moon cannot drink,
and my shadow goes emptily along
with me never saying a word;
with no other friends here, I can
but use these two for company;
in the time of happiness, I
too must be happy with all
around me; I sit and sing
and it is as if the moon
accompanies me; then if I
dance, it is my shadow that
dances along with me; while
still not drunk, I am glad
to make the moon and my shadow
into friends, but then when
I have drunk too much, we
all part; yet these are
friends I can always count on
these who have no emotion
whatsoever; I hope that one day
we three will meet again,
deep in the Milky Way.
Out Of The Depths: Written After The Reformation Of A Brilliant And Talented Man
Out of the midnight, rayless and cheerless,
Into the morning's golden light;
Out of the clutches of wrong and ruin,
Into the arms of truth and right;
Out of the ways that are ways of sorrow,
Out of the paths that are paths of pain,
Yea, out of the depths has a soul arisen,
And 'one that was lost is found again.'
Lost in the sands of an awful desert,
Lost in the region of imps accursed,
With bones of victims to mark his pathway,
And burning lava to quench his thirst;
Lost in the darkness, astray in the shadows;
Father above, do we pray in vain?
Hark! on the winds come gleeful tidings,
Lo! he was lost, but is found again.
Found! and the sunlight of God's great mercy
Dispels the shadows, and brings the morn.
Found! and the hosts of the dear Redeemer
Are shouting aloud o'er a soul new born,
Plucked, like a brand, from the conflagration,
Cleansed, like a garment, free from stain,
Saved, pray God, for ever and ever;
Lost for a season, but found again.
'Out of the depths' by the grace of heaven,
Out of the depth of woe and shame,
And he blots his name from the roll of drunkards,
To carve it again on the heights of fame.
'Wine is a mocker, and strong drink raging.'
Glory to God, he has snapped the chain
That bound him with fetters of steel and iron,
And he that he was lost is found again.
Down with the cup, though it gleam like rubies;
Down with the glass, though it sparkle and shine,
'It bites like a serpent, and stings like an adder,'
There is woe, and sorrow, and shame in wine.
Keen though the sword be, and deadly its mission,
Three times its number the wine-cup has slain.
God, send thy grace unto those it has fettered-
God, grant the lost may be found again.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Strange Things Happen
She believes in god
And karma too
Paranormal powers
You know some people do
Got scorpio risin
Uh huh
Tell you whats in your stars
She was down in rio
Turn the heads of state
Got em into makin
This planet a better place
On copacabana
Uh huh
Oh yeah she radiate better go meditate
Everytime I touch my baby
Strange things happen
Strange things happen
Everytime I touch my baby
Strange things happen to me
Strange things happen
Oh ohhh ohhhh
Oh oh strange things happen
Everytime I touch my baby
Strange things happen to me
Met a pshycic reader
With a crystal ball
Had a vision
Said we could have it all
I caught her gazin
Uh huh
At our destiny cosmically
Everytime I touch my baby
Strange things happen
Oh ohhh ohhhh
Oh oh strange things happen
Everytime I touch my baby
Strange things happen to me
Strange things happen
Oh ohhh ohhhh
Oh oh strange things happen
Everytime I touch my baby
Strange things happen to me
Strange strange strange strange strange strange strange strange strange
Strange strange strange strange strange strange strange strange strange
Strange strange strange
Strange strange strange strange strange strange strange strange strange
Strange strange strange strange strange strange strange strange strange
Strange strange strange
Strange strange strange strange strange strange strange strange strange
Strange strange strange strange strange
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To Li Po (Li Bai) and Uriah
Dear Li Po,
strange things happen to poets
during their life,
especially those who like wine.
But now, more than a thousand years
after your suicide,
men have named a crater on
the planet Mercury with your name…
Mercury, the planet the Greeks called
Hermes Apollo, messenger of gods and poets;
the shining one;
although men have not been there yet.
When they do, they may find you
sitting in your crater, watching the Moon
(we think it will appear to you
two times a day instead of once…)
and drinking wine with Uriah;
(and your shadows will be there too,
tall on the crater’s slope…)
you’re teaching him Chinese;
he’s translating your poems into English
with your approval.
He’d like that. We hope you would.
A strange place for immortals to drink wine;
but poets do and say strange things;
that’s why we love them, just as
children love surprises,
dear Li Po.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Of Li Po Waking The Morning After, circa 1981
'Let me be forever drunk and never come to reason!
Sober men of olden days and sages are forgotten,
And only the great drinkers are famous for all time.' - Li Po
'We share life's joys when sober.
Drunk, each goes a separate way.' - Li Po
Waking up among these frail green things,
by the stream I hear the hornets singing.
I do not fear them but I fear the sting
of light as day creeps into my shade.
I have read of sad and joyful things
under last night's moon and now I weep
for the Immortals fading from light
to light with their pockets of pine bark
and resin to chew, their wine of sorrow
to drink in their, and my, sorrowful season.
I am homesick for the earth as
these old poets knew it,
a thin veil of mountains,
winter birds pecking at suet,
some girls dancing, and a wife,
some young sons to pull the reeds up
fishing and weeping for my exposed
wino bones while I sit, drunk, pronouncing
upon the deeds of state. Pitiable.
Let there be leaving taking and coming to,
drinking and drinking again,
playing fool to the wisdom of the ages,
remarking at those unkind sages
who always smack their lips for war.
Give me again the hilltop cave,
the pilgrim come to call at the door.
Fires I will then light for this age.
Who comes to me in this season for reason
besides the bee and the mite, the winding gourd?
I have sat here in one spot so long
I begin to lose my sight. Look!
The stream is growing a beard in the daylight!
No word can bring back the Immortals but for wino joys.
There is a blight upon our time. I have been faithful to it
tipping my cup. The present is sufficient but I admit
I am ready to go. My time has come.
Leave the world to the scoundrels!
[POET'S NOTE: I wrote the above poem in response to Li Po's famous poem, 'Alone And Drinking Under the Moon'. Here it is, by Li Po:
Amongst the flowers I
am alone with my pot of wine
drinking by myself; then lifting
my cup I asked the moon
to drink with me, its reflection
and mine in the wine cup, just
the three of us; then I sigh
for the moon cannot drink,
and my shadow goes emptily along
with me never saying a word;
with no other friends here, I can
but use these two for company;
in the time of happiness, I
too must be happy with all
around me; I sit and sing
and it is as if the moon
accompanies me; then if I
dance, it is my shadow that
dances along with me; while
still not drunk, I am glad
to make the moon and my shadow
into friends, but then when
I have drunk too much, we
all part; yet these are
friends I can always count on
these who have no emotion
whatsoever; I hope that one day
we three will meet again,
deep in the Milky Way.
poem by Warren Falcon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Get Drunk
Always be drunk.
That's it!
The great imperative!
In order not to feel
Time's horrid fardel
bruise your shoulders,
grinding you into the earth,
Get drunk and stay that way.
On what?
On wine, poetry, virtue, whatever.
But get drunk.
And if you sometimes happen to wake up
on the porches of a palace,
in the green grass of a ditch,
in the dismal loneliness of your own room,
your drunkenness gone or disappearing,
ask the wind,
the wave,
the star,
the bird,
the clock,
ask everything that flees,
everything that groans
or rolls
or sings,
everything that speaks,
ask what time it is;
and the wind,
the wave,
the star,
the bird,
the clock
will answer you:
"Time to get drunk!
Don't be martyred slaves of Time,
Get drunk!
Stay drunk!
On wine, virtue, poetry, whatever!"
poem by Charles Baudelaire
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Godly thirst....
there is this
thirst in me, not in the tongue
the mouth denies it
there is this thirst
that water or wine or
juice
cannot quench
it is a thirst that forever
stays
a dropp of rain
a dew from a leaf
a word from my Creator
shall satisfy it.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Alice
Get drunk and get high!
All in the name of poverty;
And the Black Continent needs help from you.
From Cape Town to Cairo,
From our waysof doing things and to learn from others;
But, true l.ove is not for sale at any givden time.
Living in the land of wine and with red wine at hand,
But where is Alice from 'Cape Of Good Hope'?
District 6, of things done to be remembered again;
And like Robin Island in South Africa.
Come and let us enjoy this 'Rasta Party'!
For the tree of love has shaken its fruits;
And, who is ready to eat them?
Alice! Where are you?
For this people are from a different race;
And i am living among them to share a view.
Many things around are very strange,
But my mind will lead me always to the truth;
And, i am only studying how to eat and work with them.
In the name of poverty i have to pray,
And in the name of love i have to care;
For my hope around this place is like,
Alice's wonderland of love where the muse muses!
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Fragments - Lines 0467 - 0496
Of those now here with us, do not detain anyone who is unwilling to remain,
Nor show the door to anyone who does not wish to go,
Nor wake anyone who is sleeping, Simonides, should one of us,
Well fortified by wine, be gripped by gentle slumber;
Nor bid the wakeful man to sleep against his will;
For everything that is forced is by nature painful.
For the one who wants to drink, let the boy stand close and pour;
Not on all nights is it possible to enjoy delights like these.
But as for me, since I have reached my limit of honey-sweet wine,
I shall think of sleep that loosens cares, going home.
I have reached the point when a man feels most pleasure in drinking wine,
Being neither sober at all nor yet excessively drunk.
Whoever goes beyond the limit of drinking, that man no longer
Is master of his own tongue or of his mind;
He talks recklessly, saying things which the sober find disgraceful,
And feels no shame in any action when he is drunk,
A man of sound sense before, and now a fool. But you,
Understanding these things, should not drink to excess,
But either stand up and leave before you get drunk -- don't let your belly
Overpower you as if you were a base laborer hired by the day --
Or else stay put and refrain from drinking. But no, 'Pour me another'
Is what you keep idly chattering, and that's why you get drunk.
For one cup comes around in the name of friendship, another on a bet;
Another you pour out as a libation for the gods, another you keep on hand,
And you do not know how to refuse. That man is truly invincible,
Who though he has drunk many cups says nothing foolish.
As for the rest of you, take care in what you say as you linger around the wine bowl,
Steering well clear of quarrels with one another,
Speaking in a way that any may hear, whether you address one or all together.
Conducted in this way, a drinking-party proves far from unpleasant.
Woman Or Wine
It was the night we dine
And I beheld this sight
Desire I cannot fight
Woman or wine
Allure I wont decline
My fingers ran such smoothness
Heavens, what a goodness!
Woman or wine
I thought I was just fine
Till those smoothness touched my lips
And I clinged to the hips
Woman or wine
It was long past nine
As we stumbbled through the door
All I wanted was more
Woman or wine
Oh sorry state of mine
I was drunk with something sweet
And I know not what it is
Woman or wine
poem by Joseph Eli Atisu
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Stand In The Shadows
Hearts which beat to a precise beat
Fading shadows on the wall
We'll cut our cards
Drive out bars
All for one, one for all.
Like teenage heat
And carnival cheats
With your heart on your sleeve
Well you know you wanna run
You won't hide
And you jump like a son of a gun
Do not stand in the shadows
Do not stand in the shadows
Do not stand in the shadows
Do not stand in the shadows
Oh alone and lonely
Watching people on my wall
Well mama and dadda thought they had me fooled
I was thinking not at all
Well i got out
Not gonna stand
In the dark without a light
Forgetting love if you believe that chance
Sit and wait
Do not stand in the shadows
Do not stand in the shadows
In the shadows
Do not stand in the shadows
Do not stand in the shadows
Do not stand in the shadows
Do not stand in the shadows
And now the judge is down feeling
All around yeah
Lifting to a blast this sound
No preachers, teachers
Pick our minds
To the sounds of false alarm
They're here today
And they hear you say
You're alive and you're living with me
So don't try to hide
And don't try to die
In the dark of the night
Do not stand in the shadows
Do not stand in the shadows
Do not stand in the shadows
Do not stand in the shadows
Do not stand in the shadows
Do not stand in the shadows
In the shadows, in the shadows
Do not stand in the shadows
song performed by by Billy Idol
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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(Do Not) Stand In The Shadows
Hearts which beat to a precise beat
Fading shadows on the wall
We'll cut our cards
Drive out bars
All for one, one for all.
Like teenage heat
And carnival cheats
With your heart on your sleeve
Well you know you wanna run
You won't hide
And you jump like a son of a gun
Do not stand in the shadows
Do not stand in the shadows
Do not stand in the shadows
Do not stand in the shadows
Oh alone and lonely
Watching people on my wall
Well Mama and Dadda thought they had me fooled
I was thinking not at all
Well I got out
Not gonna stand
In the dark without a light
Forgetting love if you believe that chance
Sit and wait
Do not stand in the shadows
Do not stand in the shadows
in the shadows
Do not stand in the shadows
Do not stand in the shadows
Do not stand in the shadows
Do not stand in the shadows
And now the judge is down feeling
all around yeah
Lifting to a blast this sound
No preachers, teachers
Pick our minds
To the sounds of false alarm
They're here today
And they hear you say
You're alive and you're living with me
So don't try to hide
And don't try to die
In the dark of the night
Do not stand in the shadows
Do not stand in the shadows
Do not stand in the shadows
Do not stand in the shadows
Do not stand in the shadows
Do not stand in the shadows
In the shadows, in the shadows
Do not stand in the shadows
song performed by by Billy Idol
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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And I Under The Moon
The jug and I under the moon
and my lips around the neck of the bottle of wine,
by the moon light is it full of the flowers dew,
I pour the scarcity of each dropp and it's association
against the bamboo and I watch to need the heron it's
crest off i see it go by as a dragons shadow independently.
Moving off, 'Therefore before the lifting of the glass,
I invite you because of our friendship,
revalations are made as to my shadow which then makes up
the moon myself and it's our three.
Is it not known my shadow follows each movement of my body
swaying as the leaves from which the rice it makes is simply.
Moon of moon shining down between shows us company
and my shadow because I am by you for wine maintained,
as to the spring flowing forth nothing is forever
and would be assisted wise are you adjusted too practice
each our lips the neck of the bottle of wine our pleasure.
As for me and as for you the moon I who am I have begun
babmboo in sleep before I go, the stand gently rising,
you dance and the shadow it moves strangely
and with you including swan song.
I' Between; Still you be looking up at the dark sky
moon smiling down and of which you are consciously, moving.
Afterwards, and you rejoice mutually; exclusively then thus do I
and Each one tried where it was, we laid down our heads
friend of moon, knew us drunk to go off searching for the shadow of your friend. Passion is less this night when travelling.
Under the moon and friends are friends, permits that fact, we are.
l.p.
poem by Is It Poetry
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Pull
Summertime came too soon,
Summers in kansas often do.
And the air was still,
I felt the pull.
I recall the heat rising from the ground in a way.
And I knew I was the first to pass this way.
I believe I step across some line,
Or I stumble through the doorway in space and time,
Like a drunk who blacks out from the wine,
Never remembers his name.
Always feel so alone,
Wherever I am I feel the pull,
And the life Ive left behind the pull.
And in case I have no future, Ive got the past
Theres no telling just how long this play will last.
I believe I step across some line,
Or I stumble through the doorway in space and time,
Like a drunk who blacks out from the wine,
Never remembers his name,
Never remembers.
Im down, walking through a storm.
I hear a voice inside, crying,
It calls my name like a judge accusing,
Black robe hanging down, whoah,
Dont forget be brave about your love.
Well I walk across the murky room,
And theres flashes in my eyes,
I dont know what Im doin.
Like a drunk who blacks out from the wine,
Never remembers his name.
Like a drunk who blacks out from the wine,
Never remembers his name,
Never remembers his name,
I never remember my name.
song performed by by Chicago
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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His Shadow
When I was young
the shadow he cast was long.
When I was afraid.
In his shadow I could be brave.
Walking together
watching his shadow by mine.
I yearned for the time
like his my shadow would be long.
As the fledgling finally
flies alone from the nest.
To step away from his shadow
my time came.
One day long after
my child at my side.
Two shadows I saw.
One long joined one small.
In my thoughts
I reflected to when
the longer shadow.
My father cast.
I realized
the time had come.
The father's shadow
now my shadow.
(04SEP97)
poem by Kurt Hearth
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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a Country
How can we determine what a country is?
If everyone of us wants to bind
a different meaning to it? Finding our own salvation
our own destruction in it?
That it is a region wherein we exist,
have to make a living, a region that is differentiated for us,
obtained through a struggle in which a flag and anthem
have to bind together but at times rather divide
a place wherein we are born
or of which with time we have become children
which we recognize as our own
and from which we are inseparable,
is no new knowledge, but that life sprouts
from the piece of ground that is own to each one,
that we experience the wonders
in our lives, times that we share with one another
and that we are together in this place and time
where everyone wants to be treated worthy as a human,
with the ability
to make a living on merit
wanting to protect that which we possess
and want to preserve it, trying to save our possessions,
lives and time
to keep to the length of days
where everyone can talk his own language, can write
uniquely perpetrate an own culture
and being able to safe the majesty
of nature for our children and their children
are some of the things that I claim legitimately
and by laws and oppression
the government
is showing me the door
so as if my own country
is not innate to me and only belongs to some?
poem by Gert Strydom
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Villanelle of the Poet's Road
Wine and woman and song,
Three things garnish our way:
Yet is day over long.
Lest we do our youth wrong,
Gather them while we may:
Wine and woman and song.
Three things render us strong,
Vine leaves, kisses and bay:
Yet is day over long.
Unto us they belong,
Us the bitter and gay,
Wine and women and song.
We, as we pass along,
Are sad that they will not stay;
Yet is day over long.
Fruits and flowers among,
What is better than they:
Wine and women and song?
Yet is day over long.
poem by Ernest Christopher Dowson
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