En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Homecoming

Grandfather built, with his own hands
The house we children called our home.
A fine expanse of stone and brick,
a castle that was ours alone.

That was before the threatening storm
turned us into refugees
The howling wind, the battering surge
Let loose the Ocean's enmity.

Of our fine home scant trace remains:
Some stone and the foundation walls
Keepsakes and memories long displayed
Sadly we have lost them all.

No loss of life, no death to weep
But still a sense of loss pervades.
The certainty of Youth is gone
And fallen trees can give no shade.

We'll build again with our own hands
The house our children will call home.
I think, perhaps, on higher ground,
Where Ocean waves do seldom roam

There we will make new memories
Those things we lost will matter not.
We have each other, that is enough.
We'll build our heaven on this spot.

poem by John F. McCullagh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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This House

(nile rodgers)
This house is built
On a foundation of love
This house is built
On a foundation of love
Our toys are in the attic baby
Pictures on the wall
We can see our memories
From the days past in the mirror
Down the hall, oh yeah
Our love will survive in our own little paradise
So inspired, so inspired
Palatial it may not be
But its a home and a castle to me
A dream from a magazine
And well never give it up cause
This house is built
On a foundation of love
This house is built
On a foundation of love
Ill try to comfort you baby
You try to comfort me yeah
I know you love me
With all your heart, oh yeah
cause you say you do
You know that when you are sad
Ill be there in a flash
At the drop of a hat, oh yeah
cause I want you to feel love
And you dont have to say a thing
You dont have to ask, cause baby
This house is built
On a foundation of love
This house is built
On a foundation of love
Maybe well strike it rich
One day really make it big
And I know because our love is so strong
Well always have a home
This house is built
On a foundation of love
This house is built
On a foundation of love
This house is built
On a foundation of love
This house is built
On a foundation of love
This house is built
On a foundation of love
This house is built
On a foundation of love

song performed by by Diana Ross
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Built This House

I built this house from its foundation
It's foundation I made it strong
So that it can't be shaken
By anything
I built this house
On love
Not on lies
I built this house
I turned it into a home
And that was my vision
I built this house
Just like a wise woman
A woman who builds a house on a foundation of a rock
Not like a foolish woman
Who builds a house
On a sand
And then turns and destroys it with her hands
I won't allow anything to break it down
To break my children and my husband
With nonsense
With arguments, alcohol and unfaithfulness
So devil you better live
Cause I built this house
On top of the rock Jesus

poem by Vangile Mtyali
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Walls

Walls of stone and walls of brick,
Some walls thin and some walls thick,
Walls so high and walls so low,
Walls to hide and walls to show.

Walls quite short and walls quite tall,
Some walls, last well, some walls fall,
Walls for comfort, walls of hate,
Walls for security, walls ornate.

Some as a barricade, some to support,
Walls of wood and walls of iron wrought,
Walls as a barrier, walls to enclose,
Some are to sit on, some to lean and doze.

Walls we build ourselves, these aren't good,
Walls for privacy, walls that have stood,
So many years through weather foul or fine,
Walls, that are yours, walls that are mine.

Brick by brick they are built to last,
Whether built now or in the past,
They shelter us from so many things,
And shield us from whatever this life brings.

poem by Ernestine Northover
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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House of fire (Lyrics)

House of fire
House of fire, yeah
Let's build a house of fire, baby
Not one of wood or stone
Walk thru my door of desire, baby
Come on in and make it your home
Don't need a window to watch you, baby
Don't need no roof overhead
Don't need no key to unlock ya, baby
I'll use my lovin'instead
I won't tire
Take me higher
Building a house of fire, baby
Buildin'it with our love
We are buildin'a house of fire every time we touch
House of fire
House of fire
We ain't gotta pay rent now, baby
No landlord to throw us out
I want to play in your garden, baby
When you want it give me a shout
I won't tire
Take me higher
Building a house of fire, baby
Buildin'it with our love
We are building a house of fire every time we touch
We are building this house together, baby
Standing on solid ground
We are building a house of fire
That you can't tear down
Brick by brick the flames get higher
Build it strong with our desire
Building a house of fire, baby
Building it with our love
We are building a house of fire every time we touch
We are building this house together, baby
Standing on solid ground
We are building a house of fire
That you can't tear down
Building a house of fire, baby
Building it with our love
We are building a house of fire every time we touch

poem by Satan's Sibling
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Give Me A Home

Give me a home to call my own
A humble home of wood or stone;
A place where ripples laugh all day
And songbirds sing and children play
A little home of love and cheer
Where seasons paint throughout the year,
And at last, when the day is through,
A place where I may talk with you.

Give me a home to call my own,
A friendly home to stand alone
And crown some earthly mound of clay
Or set before an ocean spray,
A simple home of faith and trust
Where I may toil in Heaven's dust
And when, anew, each day is through,
A place where I may be with you.

Give me a home to call my own,
A common home of tree or stone;
A place where kindness lights the way,
And flowers bloom and willows sway-
A home of love where hearts may kiss
Each tender joy of wedded bliss,
And in each hour of life to find,
A truer peace of heart and mind.

poem by Sara Stowell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sara

Written by stevie nicks.
Wait a minute baby...
Stay with me awhile
Said youd give me light
But you never told be about the fire
Drowning in the sea of love
Where everyone would love to drown
And now its gone
It doesnt matter anymore
When you build your house
Call me home
And he was just like a great dark wing
Within the wings of a storm
I think I had met my match -- he was singing
And undoing the laces
Undoing the laces
Drowning in the sea of love
Where everyone would love to drown
And now its gone
It doesnt matter anymore
When you build your house
Call me home
Hold on
The night is coming and the starling flew for days
Id stay home at night all the time
Id go anywhere, anywhere
Ask me and Im there because I care
Sara, youre the poet in my heart
Never change, never stop
And now its gone
It doesnt matter what for
When you build your house
Ill come by
Drowning in the sea of love
Where everyone would love to drown
And now its gone
It doesnt matter anymore
When you build your house
Call me home
All I ever wanted
Was to know that you were dreaming
(theres a heartbeat
And it never really died)

song performed by by Fleetwood Mac
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My House

This is my house,
Treat it as such,
It is where I dwell.
It is my castle,
I am it's king,
It is where, I alone prevail.
I set the rules,
For which we live,
For my wife, child and I
If you cannot accept them,
If you only reject them,
Please, just step outside.

This is my house!
I support it with two hands,
Liken the one, my father once owned.
And when I got married,
And I took me a bride,
My house, became our home.
I'll fight for the rights,
For which it stands,
To shelter, my family and I,
To protect ourselves,
And to raise our family,
And for that, I would surely die.
Though it may not be a castle,
It may not be a mansion,
But of its four walls I am proud.
For many memories are here,
Many hopes and dreams lie there,
For this is my house, our home.

Randy L. McClave

poem by Randy McClave
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To Build A House

to build a house, a beautiful one,
i just do not need land and nails
not just wood, and grass
not just beams and roofs, for they

are but necessities, projections of
the house upon a hill
of the mind,

to build a house, one needs the soul
of the home,
the words of memories, the gutters
of our emotions,

unlike you, my house requires the fences
and walls
keeping away the ill winds
of publicity, the rumors of who i was,

a slope, the steep one, inclined
towards no other
than the whiteness of the sky

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Voice On The Wind

I

She walks with the wind on the windy height
When the rocks are loud and the waves are white,
And all night long she calls through the night,
'O my children, come home!'
Her bleak gown, torn as a tattered cloud,
Tosses around her like a shroud,
While over the deep her voice rings loud,-
'O my children, come home, come home!
O my children, come home!'

II

Who is she who wanders alone,
When the wind drives sheer and the rain is blown?
Who walks all night and makes her moan,
'O my children, come home!'
Whose face is raised to the blinding gale;
Whose hair blows black and whose eyes are pale,
While over the world goes by her wail,-
'O my children, come home, come home!
O my children, come home!'

III

She walks with the wind in the windy wood;
The dark rain drips from her hair and hood,
And her cry sobs by, like a ghost pursued,
'O my children, come home!'
Where the trees loom gaunt and the rocks stretch drear,
The owl and the fox crouch back with fear,
As wild through the wood her voice they hear,-
'O my children, come home, come home!
O my children, come home!'

IV

Who is she who shudders by
When the boughs blow bare and the dead leaves fly?
Who walks all night with her wailing cry,
'O my children, come home!'
Who, strange of look, and wild of tongue,
With wan feet wounded and hands wild-wrung,
Sweeps on and on with her cry, far-flung,-
'O my children, come home, come home!
O my children, come home!'

V

'Tis the Spirit of Autumn, no man sees,
The mother of Death and of Mysteries,
Who cries on the wind all night to these,
'O my children, come home!'
The Spirit of Autumn, pierced with pain,
Calling her children home again,
Death and Dreams, through ruin and rain,-
'O my children, come home, come home!
O my children, come home!'

poem by Madison Julius Cawein
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Generation To Generation

In a house which becomes a home,
one hands down and another takes up
the heritage of mind and heart,
laughter and tears, musings and deeds.
Love, like a carefully loaded ship,
crosses the gulf between the generations.
Therefore, we do not neglect the ceremonies
of our passage: when we wed, when we die,
and when we are blessed with a child;
When we depart and when we return;
When we plant and when we harvest.
Let us bring up our children. It is not
the place of some official to hand to them
their heritage.
If others impart to our children our knowledge
and ideals, they will lose all of us that is
wordless and full of wonder.
Let us build memories in our children,
lest they drag out joyless lives,
lest they allow treasures to be lost because
they have not been given the keys.
We live, not by things, but by the meanings
of things. It is needful to transmit the passwords
from generation to generation.

poem by Antoine de Saint-Exupery
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Chains On My Neck

Chains On My Neck
I’m black here I sit with chains on my neck
I’m beside other black men with chains on their necks
I’m waiting but while I wait my mind
takes me to my village
There, there is my home
I built it with my hands and my brothers hands
I built it with my sweat and pride
a very, very fine house indeed
But I am here sitting with chains on my neck
Beside other black men with chains on their necks
I see in my minds eye my fine house
I bring in furniture, built by my hands and my father’s hands
Strong furniture made with care from the best trees
But I am here sitting with chains on my neck
Beside other black men with chains on their necks
I see again in my minds eye my fine house
I bring in my spear, ax and shield
Deadly weapons to attack or defend
I mount them on the wall of my fine house
But I am sitting with chains on my neck
Beside me other black men with chains on their necks
I shake my chains and my house is on the other end of my chains.

Copyright 2005

poem by Watchful Steward
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Make This House A Home

Well theres something in us living
Theres something you should know
There was a time for us to fall
Now its time to grow
But you know its not the way
That I intended it to be
Crossing hearts and killing souls
And trying to get down to whats real
All I ever wanted was to make this house a home
I let go of sinking sand wont you help me find a stone
All I ever wanted
All I ever wanted
All I ever wanted
All I ever wanted
All I ever wanted
Was to make this house a home
All I needed was your hand to hold
I spent so much time alone
I needed your direction
But we re-aligned my broken bones
Well theyre running from a lifeless state
Somehow we lost our hold
All we have with us is change
Left over from what started out as gold
All I ever wanted was to make this house a home
I let go of sinking sand - wont you help me find a stone
All I ever wanted
All I ever wanted
All I ever wanted
All I ever wanted
All I ever wanted
Was to make this house a home
This is what I give to you
Its flesh and blood
Its body and soul
Wont you take whats left of who I am
And try to see it whole
Im holding you responsible for every word I say
If you feel the brokenness
Wont you try and look the other way
I never meant to be so low
I only wanted you to see
That time was healing someone else
But its tearing apart the very heart of me
This is what I give to you
Its flesh and blood
Its body and soul
Wont you take whats left of who I am
And try to see it whole
All I ever wanted was to make this house a home
I let go of sinking sand - wont you help me find a stone
All I ever wanted
All I ever wanted
All I ever wanted
All I ever wanted
All I ever wanted
Was to make this house a home
So make this house a home
Make this house a home
Make this house a home

song performed by by Indigo Girls
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Loss Of A Home

In the course my life I have seen many things
But nothing prepares you look into the faces of families who lost everything
Their is not sadness but strength and perseverance in their eyes.
It just material I keep telling myself
But its more then that it is a home a family made
A history love that makes a location what it is
My dear freind picked up one her lost photograph and balled cause it was of her grandfather who is now dead
Their scared not of the loss material but of a loss of their home

poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Memories (Life Poem)

Memories are
The building blocks
In the house of your life.
You can build a castle,
Or end up homeless.

Memories are
The rolling waves
On the beach of your life.
You can leave with barely a ripple
Or ride those waves.

poem by Ian Beckett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Vermillion (Terry Date Mix)

She seems dressed in all the rings
Of past fatalaties
So fradgile yet so devious
She continues to see it
Climatic hands that press
Her temples in my chest
Enter the night that she came home
Forever
Oh (She's the only one that makes me soar)
She is everytihng and more
The solemn hypnotic
My doll you're bathed in posession
She is home to me
I get neverous, perversed when I see her to worse
But the stress is astounding
It's now or never she's coming home
Forever
Oh (She's the only one that makes me soar)
Hard to say waht caught my attention
Vixen crazy, Athen Attraction
Call my name in my face, to recognize
Such a fair amount called, to terrorize
I won't let this build up inside of me
I won't let this build up inside of me
I won't let this build up inside of me
I won't let this build up inside of me
(Yeah!)
I'm a slave, and I am a master
No restraints and, unchecked collectors
I exist throught my name, to self ablige
There is something in me, the darkness finds
I won't let this build up inside of me
I won't let this build up inside of me
I won't let this build up inside of me
I won't let this build up inside of me
I won't let this build up inside of me
I won't let this build up inside of me
I won't let this build up inside of me
I won't let this build up inside of me
SHE ISN'T REAL!
I CAN'T MAKE HER REAL!
SHE ISN'T REAL!
I CAN'T MAKE HER REAL!
(She isn't real, I can't make her real)
(She isn't real, I can't make her real)

song performed by by Slipknot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Home Song

I read within a poet's book
A word that starred the page:
"Stone walls do not a prison make,
Nor iron bars a cage!"

Yes, that is true; and something more
You'll find, where'er you roam,
That marble floors and gilded walls
Can never make a home.

But every house where Love abides,
And Friendship is a guest,
Is surely home, and home-sweet-home:
For there the heart can rest.

poem by Henry Van Dyke
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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No Home

So many people
Do not have a home
Sure they have a house
But not each house is home

They say home
Is where the heart is
Not cushions and a rug
But smiles and a kiss

They look hard for love
The house walls them in
They embrace the streets
Trying to ignore the din

Where can my soul rest
From the nagging pain
Where can I go to escape
From feeling the loss again?

poem by Samuel Nze
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Interlude: Songs out of Sorrow

I. Spirit's House

From naked stones of agony
I will build a house for me;
As a mason all alone
I will raise it, stone by stone,
And every stone where I have bled
Will show a sign of dusky red.
I have not gone the way in vain,
For I have good of all my pain;
My spirit's quiet house will be
Built of naked stones I trod
On roads where I lost sight of God.

II. Mastery

I would not have a god come in
To shield me suddenly from sin,
And set my house of life to rights;
Nor angels with bright burning wings
Ordering my earthly thoughts and things;
Rather my own frail guttering lights
Wind blown and nearly beaten out;
Rather the terror of the nights
And long, sick groping after doubt;
Rather be lost than let my soul
Slip vaguely from my own control --
Of my own spirit let me be
In sole though feeble mastery.

III. Lessons

Unless I learn to ask no help
From any other soul but mine,
To seek no strength in waving reeds
Nor shade beneath a straggling pine;
Unless I learn to look at Grief
Unshrinking from her tear-blind eyes,
And take from Pleasure fearlessly
Whatever gifts will make me wise --
Unless I learn these things on earth,
Why was I ever given birth?

IV. Wisdom

When I have ceased to break my wings
Against the faultiness of things,
And learned that compromises wait
Behind each hardly opened gate,
When I can look Life in the eyes,
Grown calm and very coldly wise,
Life will have given me the Truth,
And taken in exchange -- my youth.

V. In a Burying Ground

This is the spot where I will lie
When life has had enough of me,
These are the grasses that will blow
Above me like a living sea.

These gay old lilies will not shrink
To draw their life from death of mine,
And I will give my body's fire
To make blue flowers on this vine.

"O Soul," I said, "have you no tears?
Was not the body dear to you?"
I heard my soul say carelessly,
"The myrtle flowers will grow more blue."

VI. Wood Song

I heard a wood thrush in the dusk
Twirl three notes and make a star --
My heart that walked with bitterness
Came back from very far.

Three shining notes were all he had,
And yet they made a starry call --
I caught life back against my breast
And kissed it, scars and all.

VII. Refuge

From my spirit's gray defeat,
From my pulse's flagging beat,
From my hopes that turned to sand
Sifting through my close-clenched hand,
From my own fault's slavery,
If I can sing, I still am free.

For with my singing I can make
A refuge for my spirit's sake,
A house of shining words, to be
My fragile immortality.

poem by Sara Teasdale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lost Children

Lord please watch over
All these lost children
Born to chase the hurricane
Please shine some light down
On those who wander
Filled with hunger and pain
Please raise the wind
For all those out sailing
On an ocean alone
Lord shine a light on
All these lost children
Far away from their home
Lord keep an eye on
All these lost children
Swept away in the wind
Please shine some light down
On all those travelin'
Lead them all home again

song performed by by Tom Petty
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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New house

Stepping onto the hard floor,
no memories to be shared here,
thoughts are neutral no emotion,
the unnerving stench of staleness,
and unlived in state feels so impersonal,
so uncomfortable,
memories piled high in our old home,
and stored like books in my head,
it feels so cold here,
unexplainable feeling of fear,
no aroma of delicious food flowing through the house,
the rooms are not personalised,
just stripped bare,
dust flies through the air,
it can't be called a home yet,
it's just a house with inhabitants,
it can only be called mine,
but i will continue to see our previous house as home,
it'll take getting used to,
it'll take time,
i'll try and make it feel like mine now,
living in the new house.

poem by Emily Summers
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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