Songs
SONGS are like painted window-panes!
In darkness wrapp'd the church remains,
If from the market-place we view it;
Thus sees the ignoramus through it.
No wonder that he deems it tame,--
And all his life 'twill be the same.
But let us now inside repair,
And greet the holy Chapel there!
At once the whole seems clear and bright,
Each ornament is bathed in light,
And fraught with meaning to the sight.
God's children! thus your fortune prize,
Be edified, and feast your eyes!
poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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Eyes Wide Opened
The light...
Bright,
Has been turned on.
Most who chose to delight in darkness,
Have come to realize...
This kept prize has been diminished.
This prize of darkness,
From them has been lifted.
Gone from its prolonged visit.
The light...
Bright,
Has been turned on.
And those fearing the sight of dawn,
Are being effectively etched away from it.
Those fearing the sight of dawn,
Are being minimized...
With the removal of their disguises.
Eyes wide opened welcome Sun rise.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Love's Light: The Philosopher at the Window
The eyes, it's said, are windows of the soul;
and when I see your eyes so sparkling bright,
I see there beauty, truth and goodness; all
as one; the radiance of an inner light.
But I who, standing, gaze though windows here:
what does my own soul see by its own light?
Is what is seen, seen through dark glass, or clear?
Is others' radiance that of my own sight?
Strange fact: the outward play's less bright, less clear
than what I see to shine in others' eyes;
there seems less love in me, from me; less dear
the loving, than the love I see and prize!
These windows teach clear lessons to my soul:
first see my own self's light, to see the whole.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Light Inside
ohhh yeah theres a place in no way outta sphere
do ya I want burn the midnight oil
does it fool ya when you think theres no way out of here
let it fool ya saying as i do with ??
the light inside is burning bright
the light makes everything all right
the light inside is burning bright
the light inside oh yeah all right
Lay yeah introduce you to my point of view
me I want to get under your skin
I want to find ya from the pleasures that I get from you
I want to drag ya from the outside to within
the light inside is burning bright
the light makes everything all right
the light inside is burning bright
the light inside oh yeah all right
the light inside is burning
the light inside is burning
the light inside is burning bright
the light inside oh yeah all right
the light inside is burning bright
the light makes everything all right
the light inside is burning bright
the light inside oh yeah all right
song performed by by Aerosmith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Outside My Picture Window
It has been said that there is a world outside my picture window and
Beyond the trees I see everyday and the sky, sometimes overcast and
Other days, when the sun rises early- I can see the sky and have often wondered if
There exists another world within our universe- I know that
There exists a world inside of my mind and
My pupils are the windows into which
People would look if I were to venture outward?
Beyond the sky, and beyond the sun-
Beyond that world inside my mind,
I would never know where there exists a place for me-
Last night outside of my window
I could see the stars- stars mean different things to different people as
Does the sun, the trees and this whole world outside-
The world inside my mind revolves about
The sun that shines upon my own horizon and
As for this world outside, all I can do is look- and to
See a tree, perhaps a single cloud and the grass that grows-
I have shut my mind to the people who live beyond
The trees, clouds and the grass that I can see-
That window opens to the world inside of my thoughts-
I have just shut and pulled the curtain to discourage all intruders-
I am lying by my window in total darkness now as I place my hand over my eyes,
Shutting out reality and now I can see mountains, flowering trees and
A creek flowing in which I can see my reflection and
I am running upon the grass that grows beneath my feet-
I believe I heard music playing inside the fortress of my mind-
It has been said there is a world outside and I have pulled the curtain
To the window once opened to veracity-
Darkness has never looked as beautiful as I am safe here in my solitude-
Even when the stars are shining and the sky is such a magnificent sight to see-
No place is as exquisite as the creek that runs through my inner space and
The sun inside the world of my thoughts that shines upon my horizon?
The stars are far away and all that is real, though just outside my picture window
I perceive as too far away for me to reach- I would touch the stars and I could be a dove
That can lift my wings and fly away from all that threatens, but only inside my dreams-
Children sing songs and read fairy tales and they believe and I believe that
The sun shines light upon their worlds and
Someday their dreams shall blossom as has mine and shall become their homes-
Home is the safe place inside a person's mind, not within the madding crowd that
Exists outside my picture window- even if the stars are always there- and
That unique and special sun shall just keep on shining upon the world of my dreams….
poem by Claudia Krizay
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Window
I was staring out the window
The whole time he was talking to me
It was a filthy pane of glass
I couldn't get a clear view
As he went on and on
It wasn't the outside world I could see
Just the filthy pane that I was looking through
So I had to break the window
It just had to be
Better that I break the window
Than him or her or me
I was never focused on just one thing
My eyes got fixed when my mind got soft
It may looked like I'm concentrated on a very clear view
But I'm as good as asleep
I bet you didn't know
It takes a lot of it away if you do
So I had to break the window
It just had to be
Better that I break the window
Than him or her or me
So I had to break the window
It just had to be
Better that I break the window
Than him or her or me
Because the fact in fact
Whatevers in front of me is covering my view
So I can't see what I'm seeing in fact
I only see what I'm looking through
I had to break the window
It just had to be it was in my way
Better that I break the window
Then forget what I had to say
So again I've done the right thing
I was never worried about that
The answer's always been in clear view
But even when the window's clean
I still can't see for the fact
That when it's clean it's so clear
I cant tell what I'm looking through
So I had to break the window
It just had to be
Better that I break the window
Than him or her or me
I had to break the window
It just had to be it was in my way
Better that I break the window
Then forget what I had to say
I had to break the window
It was in my way
Better that I break a window
Then forget what I had to say
Or miss what I should see
Or breaking him or her or me
song performed by by Fiona Apple
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Windows
The windows of my life
have panes that go through change.
Sometimes they're clear
Sometimes they're fogged up
and I find that rather strange.
When they're clear I see the road
that stretches far ahead.
When they're foggy it's hard to see
so I close my eyes instead,
for I fear uncertainty.
Life's so unpredictable
and yet it's really not.
For unpredictability
is all we've really got.
So we hang on to each and every day
and do the best we can.
Sooner or later when hard times come
we pray the window pane
will be glass that's all fogged up
so we can remain
uncertain with our eyes shut tight
and unable to see that windowed sight.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Clothes Of Sand
Who has dressed you in strange clothes of sand
Who has taken you far from my land
Who has said that my sayings were wrong
And who will say that I stayed much too long?
Clothes of sand have covered yor face
Given you meaning but taken my place
So make your way on down to the sea
Something has taken you so far from me.
Does it now seem worth all the colour of skies
To see the earth through painted eyes
To look through panes of shaded glass
See the stains of winters grass.
Can you now return to from where you came
Try to burn your changing name
Or with silver spoons and coloured light
Will you worship moons in winters night.
Clothes of sand have covered your face
Given you meaning but taken my place
So make your way on down to the sea
Something has taken you so far from me.
song performed by by Nick Drake
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Today... 'Light
There is a Light, an Uncreated Beam
In which the Glory of God can be seen
A pure and holy and an Eternal light
It is seen in Jesus shining so bright
A light brighter than the noonday sun
Shines from the Lord, the Righteous One
And beneath His feet all men shall fall
The King of kings and Lord of all
Great mystery of Godliness none can tell
How the fullness of the Godhead could dwell
But the glory of God came shining through
There on the mountain before their view
There is a wondrous light that shines so bright.
All darkness is banished before its' sight.
This uncreated Light on earth did shine
and our life is enriched by the Divine.
With glorious beauty His life unfurled
blazing out holiness in this dark world.
The Shekinah glory comes shining through
as the light of life reaches out to you.
(see also the additional information in the Poet's notes box below)
0008 A Woman's World
She was artistic as a student,
sweet-natured, imaginative, not
overly ambitious; a good catch
for him, the fellow student with
the drive, the ambition, the great
family connections.
They married young; she did
what so many girl art students
have done: gave him all her
intelligent support, bore and raised
his children; and in the few brief moments
that she was granted for herself, took out
her student paintbox, and while the kettle boiled,
sat at the kitchen table, and beyond the view of washing-up
part painted that familiar view –
a jug of garden flowers on the kitchen window-sill..
and when he left her for
another strong woman who, however,
sculpted the cutting-edge new abstract thing
she brought up his children by herself
and when they left the nest, and she, now older,
had more time to give to paint,
she returned - as so many artists do –
to that motif, for them an eternal reminder
of that moment when the exalted mind
sees, beyond the kitchen sink,
a glimpse of that great heavenly view
beyond the garden flowers, where
she could walk into that paradise
that eternally awaits
the sweet-tempered heart..
and year by year, the modest
jug of flowers on the window-sill
became herself
and she
became that heavenly view
until the jug of flowers burst into glory
and she did what only ikon painters, praying, do
and gold and silver joined the rainbow paint
to point the way to an eternity
where kitchen sink’s now holy path;
that is more now than now
and she became,
the painting is,
a jug of Eden's flowers on a kitchen window-sill
and with all heaven in its sight
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Epi-strauss-ium
Matthew and Mark and Luke and holy John
Evanished all and gone!
Yea, he that erst his dusky curtains quitting,
Thro’ Eastern pictured panes his level beams transmitting,
With gorgeous portraits blent,
On them his glories intercepted spent.
Southwestering now, thro’ windows plainly glassed,
On the inside face his radiance keen hath cast,
And in the lustre lost, invisible and gone,
Are, say you, Matthew, Mark and Luke and holy John?
Lost, is it, lost, to be recovered never?
However,
The place of worship the meantime with light
Is, if less richly, more sincerely bright,
And in blue skies the Orb is manifest to sight.
poem by Arthur Hugh Clough
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Rote Lippen Soll Man Kssen
Lately all you can feel is the rain falling
Maybe you feel this world is to blame
you've been crying.
Only
only inside will you know
but still you wonder sometimes:
Where can
where can you go? - Can you go
can you go? -
Remember me
- oh
when you feel this way
And you need someone to lean on.
And if you're ever
- ever too far away
Remember me
- I am the one
- remember me
- I am the one.
Remember me
I am the one who sees in your eyes
Remember me
I am the one who sees in your eyes.
Remember me
- I am yqur guardian angel
and I'll never let you fall.
And if you'Fe ever
ever In fear of danger
-
Remember me
- I am the one
- remember me
- I am the one
-
Who will turn
turn all your darkness to light in the morning.
You'll learn when yov're too hard on yovrself yov can call me.
Remember me
- oh
when you feel this way
. . .
Remember me
I am the one who sees in your eyes
Remember me
I am the one who sees in your eyes.
I can see you
yeah!
Remember me
I am the one who sees in your eyes
Remember me
I am the one who sees in your eyes.
song performed by by Cliff Richard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Seven Golden Lamps***D
I. The CANDLESTICKS.
It is not so much to the light
as to the utensil or stand
for holding it that his attention is turned;
for the light of these lamps
is not from themselves,
or from any earthly source,
But from Him who is 'the light of the world,
' and who said to His disciples
as His representatives here,
'You are the light of the world.'
'Among whom you shine
as lights in the world' (Philippians 1: 15) ,
Says Paul, adding, 'holding forth the word of life.'
The individual saint is a 'light;
' a Church is a 'light holder' or 'lamp stand.
' The saint personally,
and the Church or body of saints,
is placed 'in the midst of a crooked
and perverse nation, ' and, like
'the word of prophecy' (2 Peter 1: 19) ,
'shines as a light in a dark place,
until the day dawn and the day-star arise.'
Israel, for ages, was the world's
only light—a light confined within
narrow boundaries—not diffused
over earth, nor set upon a hill.
Of this the one seven-branched
candlestick in the tabernacle
and temple was the symbol.
That lamp stand was doubly
shut in—first, by the outer curtain,
or wall of the house; and, secondly,
by the inner curtain, or wall of the holy place.
But these curtains have been
torn in pieces, these walls thrown down;
and now that lamp stands in uncurtained,
unhidden splendor, shining out over all the world.
Take the lamp as meaning,
in the first place, CHRIST Himself,
the light of Israel, and of the world.
This is true. He was 'a light to enlighten
the Gentiles; ' 'His life was the light of men.
' Take it again as meaning ISRAEL,
who was so long earth's only light.
This is true; for Israel, when her
exclusive privileges passed away,
gave forth her light around.
Take it as meaning the CHURCH,
or Churches, or saints of God.
This is also true—they shine out
as lights over all the world—not over
Israel's valleys and hills alone,
or her cities and villages,
but over all earth's wide expanse,
over all kindred's, and nations,
and tongues, and peoples.
Christ is the world's light;
the church is the world's light;
each saint is the light of the circle
where he dwells and where he moves.
15. January 2008
poem by Mary Wismer
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Walking By Faith...
Don’t Let Me Lose Sight Of You
As I Leap Of Faith Thru Life
I’m Trying To Follow Your Footsteps
Holy Savior, Jesus Christ
We Must Walk Thru Fire, By Faith
And Close The Fear Of Mortal Sight
We Must Journey Bravely
… In Love’s Flight Light
Walking By Faith, I See You
Thru Christ’s Sacred Intercessions
I Am Looking Forward To
All My Scenes Of Sins, Remissions
I Need A View, Not Blocked By Strife
Nor Torrents Of Rain, In Deep Night
Let Me Simply Wipe Them Away
With All Your Forecast Might
I’ll Perceive The Way
By Knowing Whose Will
I’m Walking By Faith
Thru Valleys To Hills
Coming To Where
The Savior Stood
Leading Me To
A Holy Neighborhood
His Precious Tracks
Traced In Blood
Saved Me From Being
Buried In Mud
Don’t Let Me Lose Sight Of You
Let Me Keep Eyes On The Prize
And Keep Me In Your Vision
Under All Cloudy Skies
Don’t Let Me Lose Sight Of You
Even If I Limp, Or Lag Behind
I’ll Never Stray From Faith In You
I’ll Not Go Spiritually Blind
As Long As I Don’t Lose Sight Of You
I’ll See All This Come To Pass Too …
Written & ©: 3/13/10
By: The MoonBee
poem by MoonBee Canady
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Light
Brings hopes in the life, light
Travels with a greater might, light
Gives vision to many eyes, light
A colorful horizon on eastside, light
Seems coming form the heights, light
Over comes evils of the night, light
To the darkness it always strikes, light
Faster than any flight, light
For many beings it is a diet, light
Thunder seems snatching sight, light
Rainbow is at wide, light
Spreads everywhere at sunrise, light
Over sky all white, light
Gives impact always bright, light
Shows path, put on right, light
If one thinks it is a life, light
poem by Zaibar Zee
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Psalm 122
Going to church.
How did my heart rejoice to hear
My friends devoutly say,
"In Zion let us all appear,
And keep the solemn day!"
I love her gates, I love the road;
The church, adorned with grace,
Stands like a palace built for God,
To show his milder face.
Up to her courts with joys unknown
The holy tribes repair;
The Son of David holds his throne,
And sits in judgment there.
He hears our praises and complaints;
And while his awful voice
Divides the sinners from the saints,
We tremble and rejoice.
Peace be within this sacred place,
And joy a constant guest!
With holy gifts and heav'nly grace
Be her attendants blest!
My Soul shall pray for Zion still,
While life or breath remains;
There my best friends, my kindred dwell,
There God my Savior reigns.
poem by Isaac Watts
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My Star Shines Bright
No matter how dark things seem around me, my star shines bright…
When there is only Darkness…and no light…
My star shines bright.
When I am out in the night…
My star shines bright.
When there is no sun, moon, or any other star in site.
My star…Shines bright.
Things in my life my not always be fair…
But I have my star and its Sparkling Glare
My Goal is clearly not in sight…
But I can find it, with my star that shines bright.
I can see the light
With my star that shines bright.
My star…
Turns the darkness of the night
Into the sparkling sight
Of the Glimmering Light! !
My star…
Shines bright…
Note:
Please comment! ! ! !
Say what you mean
Mean what you say
Or don’t say nothing at all! !
poem by Abdul Malik Habibalah Wajid Hunter
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Encounter In The Chestnut Avenue
He felt the entrance's green darkness
wrapped cooly round him like a silken cloak
that he was still accepting and arranging;
when at the opposite transparent end, far off,
through green sunlight, as through green window panes,
whitely a solitary shape
flared up, long remaining distant
and then finally, the downdriving light
boiling over it at every step,
bearing on itself a bright pulsation,
which in the blond ran shyly to the back.
But suddenly the shade was deep,
and nearby eyes lay gazing
from a clear new unselfconscious face,
which, as in a portrait, lived intensely
in the instant things split off again:
first there forever, and then not at all.
Translated by Edward Snow
poem by Rainer Maria Rilke
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Woodland Fairy.
Deep inside the woods, at night,
Appeared a fairy, bathed in light,
Her grace was magical to see,
As she tiptoed there, beneath the tree,
Just that one night,
I witnessed the sight,
Of a woodland fairy bathed in light.
poem by Lizzy Tomlinson
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Why dost thou Shade thy Lovely Face?
1 Why dost thou shade thy lovely face? Oh, why
2 Does that eclipsing hand so long deny
3 The sunshine of thy soul-enliv'ning eye?
4 Without that light, what light remains in me?
5 Thou art my life, my way, my light; in thee
6 I live, I move, and by thy beams I see.
7 Thou art mv life; if thou but turn away
8 My life's a thousand deaths: thou art my way;
9 Without thee, Lord, I travel not, but stray.
10 My light thou art; without thy glorious sight
11 Mine eyes are darken'd with perpetual night.
12 My God, thou art my way, my life, my light.
13 Thou art my way; I wander if thou fly:
14 Thou art my light; if hid, how blind am I!
15 Thou art my life; if thou withdraw, I die.
16 Mine eyes are blind and dark, I cannot see;
17 To whom or whither should my darkness flee,
18 But to the light? and who's that light but thee?
19 My path is lost, my wand'ring steps do stray;
20 I cannot safely go, nor safely stay;
21 Whom should I seek but thee, my path, my way?
22 Oh, I am dead: to whom shall I, poor I,
23 Repair? to whom shall my sad ashes fly,
24 But life? and where is life but in thine eye?
25 And yet thou turn'st away thy face, and fly'st me;
26 And yet I sue for grace, and thou deny'st me;
27 Speak, art thou angry, Lord, or only try'st me?
28 Unscreen those heavenly lamps, or tell me why
29 Thou shad'st thy face; perhaps thou think'st no eye
30 Can view those flames, and not drop down and die.
31 If that be all, shine forth, and draw thee nigher;
32 Let me behold and die, for my desire
33 Is ph{oe}nix-like to perish in that fire.
34 Death-conquer'd Laz'rus was redeem'd by thee;
35 If I am dead, Lord, set death's prisoner free;
36 Am I more spent, or stink I worse than he?
37 If my puff'd life be out, give leave to tine
38 My shameless snuff at that bright lamp of thine;
39 Oh, what's thy light the less for lighting mine?
40 If I have lost my path, great Shepherd, say,
41 Shall I still wander in a doubtful way?
42 Lord, shall a lamb of Israel's sheep-fold stray?
43 Thou art the pilgrim's path, the blind man's eye,
44 The dead man's life; on thee my hopes rely;
45 If thou remove, I err, I grope, I die.
46 Disclose thy sunbeams; close thy wings, and stay;
47 See, see how I am blind, and dead, and stray,
48 O thou, that art my light, my life, my way.
poem by Francis Quarles
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Comfortable Light
Most comfortable Light,
Light of the small lamp burning up the night,
With dawn enleagued against the beaten dark;
Pure golden perfect spark;
Or sudden wind-bright flame,
That but the strong-handed wind can urge or tame;
Chill loveliest light the kneeling clouds between,
Silverly serene;
Comfort of happy light,
That mouse-like leaps amid brown leaves, cheating sight;
Clear naked stars, burning with swift intense
Earthward intelligence;--
Sensitive, single
Points in the dark inane that purely tingle
With eager fire, pouring night's circles through
Their living blue;
Dark light still waters hold;
Broad silver moonpath trodden into gold:
Candle-flame glittering through the traveller's night--
Most comfortable light....
And lovelier, the eye
Where light from darkness shines unfathomably,
Light secret, clear, shallow, profound, known, strange,
Constant alone in change:--
Not that wild light that turns
Hunted from dying eyes when the last fire burns;
O, not that bitter light of wounded things,
When bony anguish springs
Sudden, intolerable;
Nor light of mad eyes gleaming up from hell....
Come not again, wild light! Shine not again,
Hill-flare of pain!
But thou, most holy light....
Not the noon blaze that stings, too fiercely bright,
Not that unwinking stare of shameless day;
But thou, the gray,
Nun-like and silent, still,
Fine-breathed on many an eastern bare green hill;
Keen light of gray eyes, cool rain, and stern spears;
Sad light, but not to tears:--
--O, comfort thou of eyes
Watching expectant from chill northern skies,
Excellent joy for lids heavy with night--
Strange with delight!
poem by John Freeman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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