Downhill and other Parodies - Christina ROSSETTI - Uphill
Yes, the clock ticks downhill all the way,
until the very end.
Will the day's journey take the whole long day?
From light to mo[u]rn, my friend.
But is there for the spring a resting-place,
a ring before the last dark hours begin,
may not time fleeting mask it from my face?
No second chance for sin.
Will timesharing ease the fears and fright?
Toc ticks till all’s in hock which went before.
May not Time’s knocks be reined in by insight?
There is no reign resistant to scythe sure.
Who may find comfort, travel-sore and weak?
Time echoes onwards though the soul’s struck dumb.
Will there be time for me and all who seek?
Come, come! - the tocsin ticks to each his sum.
(c) Jonathan Robin Parody Christina ROSSETTI - Uphill
15 October 2005
Uphill
Does the road wind up-hill all the way?
Yes, to the very end.
Will the day's journey take the whole long day?
From morn to night, my friend.
But is there for the night a resting-place?
A roof for when the slow dark hours begin.
May not the darkness hide it from my face?
You cannot miss that inn.
Shall I meet other wayfarers at night?
Those who have gone before.
Then must I knock, or call when just in sight?
They will not keep you standing at that door.
Shall I find comfort, travel-sore and weak?
Of labor you shall find the sum.
Will there be beds for me and all who seek?
Yea, beds for all who come.
Christina G ROSSETTI 1830_1894
Uphill Holiday
Will the long journey take the whole long day?
From morn to night, my friend.
And shall I have to stand the whole long way?
Of standing you shall have no end.
Is there no rest, then for my weary feet?
For comfort you shall seek in vain.
Must I take drinke, and sandwiches to eat?
You will get nothing on the train.
Shall there be cheer, and beds for all who seek?
Some seek who shall not find.
Will there be sunshine through the livelong week?
Rain, too, and cloud and wind.
Shall I pay dear for my brief breathing space?
You shall give richly of your little store.
Will there be ample board at Seaview Place?
So much – and nothing more.
George Henry VALLINS
Sincere Flattery 1954 Parody Christina ROSSETTI Uphill
Uphill Train Travel
Will the 8.20 take me all the way?
Yes, and round the bend.
And how long is the journey, would you say?
From morn to night, my friend.
And are there light refreshments on the train?
Refreshments? That’s a laugh.
And once I’m there, will I get back again?
God, no, they’re short of staff.
Shall I be seated? Will the signals fail?
A seat? You won’t get in.
How are they packed who go by British Rail?
Like sardines in a tin.
Do they reduce the service at the peak?
You’re lucky if they run.
And will it be the same again next week?
Too bloody true, old son.
Roger WODDIS 1917_1993 Parody Christina ROSSETTI Uphill
Uphill, What Inn is This
What inn is this
Where for the night
Peculiar traveller comes?
Who is the landlord?
Where the maids?
Behold what curious rooms!
No ruddy fires on the hearth,
No brimming tankards flow.
Necromancer, landlord,
Who are these below?
Emily DICKINSON - see Dorothy Parker – The Last Question
and Christina ROSSETTI Uphill
The Last Question
New love, new love, where are you to lead me?
All along a narrow way that marks a crooked line.
How are you to slake me, and how are you to feed me?
With bitter yellow berries, and a sharp new wine.
New love, new love, shall I be forsaken?
One shall go a-wandering, and one of us must sigh.
Sweet it is to slumber, but how shall we awaken —
Whose will be the broken heart, when dawn comes by?
Dorothy PARKER 1893_1967 –
See Emily Dickinson Uphill, What Inn is This?
and Christina ROSSETTI Uphill
PARKER Dorothy 1893_1967 park1_0014_park1_0000 PXX_LUX The Last Question_New love, new love, where are you to lead me
PARKER Dorothy 1893_1967 park1_0014_park1_0000 PXX_LUX The Last Question_New love, new love, where are you to lead me
The Inn of Life
‘As It was in the Beginning, - Is Now, - And...? Anno Domini I’.
* * *
'No room!
No room!
The Inn is full,
Yea - overfull.
No room have we
for such as ye -
Poor folk of Galilee,
Pass on! Pass on! '
'Nay then! -
Your charity
Will ne'er deny
Some corner mean,
Where she may lie unseen.
For see! -
Her time is nigh.'
'Alack! And she
So young and fair!
Place have we none;
And yet - how bid ye gone?
Stay then! - out there
Among the beasts
Ye may find room,
And eke a truss
To lie upon.'
‘Anno Domini 1913, etc.
* * *
'No room!
No room!
No room for Thee,
Thou Man of Galilee!
The house is full,
Yea, overfull.
There is no room for Thee, -
Pass on! Pass on!
Nay - see!
The place is packed.
'We scarce have room
For our own selves,
So how shall we
Find room for Thee,
Thou Man of Galilee, -
Pass on! Pass on!
But - if Thou shouldst
This way again,
And we can find
So much as one small corner
Free from guest,
Not then in vain
Thy quest.
But now -
The house is full.
Pass on! '
Christ passes
On His ceaseless quest,
Nor will He rest
With any,
Save as Chiefest Guest.
John OXENHAM 1852_1941 Parody After Christina ROSSETTI Uphill
And Emily Dickinson – Uphill, what Inn is this?
Re-Thrill
Does each dream overspill, thrill reach, fresh flight?
Yes, views that have no end …
Will astral journeys teach to breach new height?
From dusk to dawn, my friend.
But is there for the day a resting place?
A roof aloof from suffering, chagrin.
Pray daylight may not chide that cheerful place,
Nor resurrect grim sin.
Will I greet other travelers by day?
Those who may bliss restore ~
Must I then talk, balk at blasé, cliché?
Consider, recognize - step to the ‘fore.
Shall I find solace wash away what’s bleak?
Find favor through free smiles, fair fun.
Will there be joy all day until soul's sleep?
Yes! unafraid you will be made welcome...
Joy A BURKI-WATSON 1950_20 30 July 2007
Parody After Christina ROSSETTI Uphill
And Emily Dickinson – Uphill, what Inn is this?
Integrating suggestions JR.
The Death-Watch Beetle
“What manner of time does your watch keep
strange timekeeper? ” “The time of sleep.”
“I see no movement in the hands.”
“And yet the sleeper understands.”
“The sleeper understands! But how? ”
“You cannot understand it now.”
“And shall I never? ” “In the end
you’ll ask no other timepiece, friend.”
Humbert WOLFE 1885_1940
Parody After Christina ROSSETTI Uphill
And Emily Dickinson – Uphill, what Inn is this?
poem by Jonathan Robin

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Related quotes

Uphill
DOES the road wind uphill all the way?
Yes, to the very end.
Will the day's journey take the whole long day?
From morn to night, my friend.
But is there for the night a resting-place?
A roof for when the slow, dark hours begin.
May not the darkness hide it from my face?
You cannot miss that inn.
Shall I meet other wayfarers at night?
Those who have gone before.
Then must I knock, or call when just in sight?
They will not keep you waiting at that door.
Shall I find comfort, travel-sore and weak?
Of labour you shall find the sum.
Will there be beds for me and all who seek?
Yea, beds for all who come.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti

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Up-Hill
Does the road wind up-hill all the way?
Yes, to the very end.
Will the day’s journey take the whole long day?
From morn to night, my friend.
But is there for the night a resting-place?
A roof for when the slow dark hours begin.
May not the darkness hide it from my face?
You cannot miss that inn.
Shall I meet other wayfarers at night?
Those who have gone before.
Then must I knock, or call when just in sight?
They will not keep you standing at that door.
Shall I find comfort, travel-sore and weak?
Of labour you shall find the sum.
Will there be beds for me and all who seek?
Yea, beds for all who come.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti (1858)

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For Many
For many life is an uphill battle the years have brought gray to your hair
And your face that has known many Seasons wears the lines of worry and care
The boys and girls you went to school with like you have known a better day
And old father time keeps on ticking and ticking and ticking away.
For many life is never easy and some do look old for their years
Too young for an early retirement they age in their phobias and fears
They worry about money matters and they work hard just for to get by
Their life is a tough uphill journey uphill till the day that they die.
The wealthy they say have their worries money does not guarantee happiness
But their worries would be far greater if they were in a financial mess
Who would not wish to be wealthy and unhappy than to be unhappy and poor
At least if you have heaps of money you do feel financially secure.
For many life is a tough journey it is uphill all of the way
They do not look into the future they only live from day to day
It's a struggle just for to make ends meet to provide for their family
The working poor are not now uncommon they work to live in poverty.
poem by Francis Duggan

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If My Heart Were A Ball It Would Roll Uphill
Did you ever fall in love
Did you ever fall in love
Did you ever fall in love
Did you ever dream of falling
If my heart were a ball
It would roll uphill
We are alone in the world
We must do what we feel we should
We are told what is right
Need hurts within us
We can see sense
We can feel what feels right
And so often
All these things are not at all the same
Theyre not at all the same
If my heart were a ball
It would roll uphill
If my heart were a ball
It would roll uphill
Did you ever dream of running
And find you couldnt move
Did you ever dream of running
Running scared
Ankle deep in glue
With the monster after you
And its catching up
Monsters catching up
And its catchin up and youre going nowhere
And youre slowin up and you cant wake up
And its catchin up
And youre going nowhere wake up wake up
Youre falling..
If my heart were a ball
It would roll uphill
Did you ever see a shadow
Cast against your bedroom wall
Crooked shadow in the lamplight
Ten feet tall
Did you ever dream of falling
And find you couldnt move
Did you give up.
And discover that you havent given up
Did you ever dream of falling
Did you ever fall in love
Hard ball dream love now roll
Fall clown stain truth space time
Race give black white all one
Church state God fast as I could cry
Laugh hide feel no clouds will
To win sweet seed you me
Hard ball dream love now roll
Fall clown stain truth space time
Never do that, never do that
Will to win, will to win, never do that
Give black white all one wild
Church state now roll
Fall clown stain truth space time
Race fruit
Give
Never do that
If my heart were a ball it would roll uphill
All one insane wild sweet heart
Wild rose
Did you ever fall in love? ..
song performed by by Marillion

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Building Bridges
I came from another place
I was born under a different star and
That is what I believe- When the rain fell, I did not grow,
In the sunlight I could not see what was ahead of me,
That sun was so far away- although far away from everyone,
I know and I believe- Building bridges in my sleep
Trying to get to a place where
I would grow and my thoughts would be in control-
Walking pathways in my wakefulness uphill and down
Trying to find a place where I would fit,
As would a piece in a jigsaw puzzle or
Perhaps just to be heard, or understood?
Here alone I can hear my thoughts as they speak to me,
Almost like far away voices echoing within the back of my mind-
My soul was snatched away at birth or I was born under a different star-
To where I wish I could return-
If I could fly with broken wings, I would,
If I could cry tears of joy, not sorrow, I would-
I am an angry spirit building ladders out of time-
That time I feel is running out-
Picking roses in vain trying to find a purpose here-
Building bridges when I sleep,
Where I would cross to another place in time,
I continue to walk pathways in my wakefulness
Until I find a place where I could grow with the flowers and
Find beauty and a purpose in this world
Because I don't know where that star into which I was born is to be-
Perhaps it was a shooting star traveling across the universe-
I got lost along the way and landed here -
A rare bird whose wings have broken and cannot fly-
So I will continue to build those bridges in my sleep and
Walk uphill and downward in my wakefulness-
Until my thoughts are in control and when my thoughts are in control, and
I become a flower or better yet a tree, just happy to be growing
Amongst nature- flowers and trees don't weep or feel the pain
Of being threatened or lost-I shall grow until I touch the sky and
Meet face to face with the sun which shall shine hope upon me and
Everybody knows that trees and flowers haven't a care and
Just stand looking strikingly beautiful- they have no wounded spirits-
They are loved by everyone and because they have no souls,
They are never misunderstood…
poem by Claudia Krizay

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Death’s Chill Between
Chide not; let me breathe a little,
For I shall not mourn him long;
Though the life-cord was so brittle,
The love-cord was very strong.
I would wake a little space
Till I find a sleeping-place.
You can go,—I shall not weep;
You can go unto your rest.
My heart-ache is all too deep,
And too sore my throbbing breast.
Can sobs be, or angry tears,
Where are neither hopes nor fears?
Though with you I am alone
And must be so everywhere,
I will make no useless moan,—
None shall say 'She could not bear:'
While life lasts I will be strong,—
But I shall not struggle long.
Listen, listen! Everywhere
A low voice is calling me,
And a step is on the stair,
And one comes ye do not see,
Listen, listen! Evermore
A dim hand knocks at the door.
Hear me; he is come again,—
My own dearest is come back.
Bring him in from the cold rain;
Bring wine, and let nothing lack.
Thou and I will rest together,
Love, until the sunny weather.
I will shelter thee from harm,—
Hide thee from all heaviness.
Come to me, and keep thee warm
By my side in quietness.
I will lull thee to thy sleep
With sweet songs:—we will not weep.
Who hath talked of weeping?—Yet
There is something at my heart,
Gnawing, I would fain forget,
And an aching and a smart.
—Ah! my mother, 'tis in vain,
For he is not come again.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti

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Another Time In Another Place
Another time in another place
maybe then I'll be able to erase
the memories of love that did me wrong,
the time that it took me to move along
away from the heartache,
away from the tears,
away from the loneliness
and all of my fears.
Here in this place everything that I do
just keeps reminding me all about you.
Maybe there's a place for lovers that are done.
Maybe I can find it and a new someone,
away from the heartache,
away from the tears.
away from the loneliness
and all of my fears.
Sometimes it takes a strong, strong will
to get over the bumps and climb uphill
but I can do it.
I'll get through it
in another time and another place.
poem by Edwina Reizer

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Despised And Rejected
My sun has set, I dwell
In darkness as a dead man out of sight;
And none remains, not one, that I should tell
To him mine evil plight
This bitter night.
I will make fast my door
That hollow friends may trouble me no more.
'Friend, open to Me.'—Who is this that calls?
Nay, I am deaf as are my walls:
Cease crying, for I will not hear
Thy cry of hope or fear.
Others were dear,
Others forsook me: what art thou indeed
That I should heed
Thy lamentable need?
Hungry should feed,
Or stranger lodge thee here?
'Friend, My Feet bleed.
Open thy door to Me and comfort Me.'
I will not open, trouble me no more.
Go on thy way footsore,
I will not rise and open unto thee.
'Then is it nothing to thee? Open, see
Who stands to plead with thee.
Open, lest I should pass thee by, and thou
One day entreat My Face
And howl for grace,
And I be deaf as thou art now.
Open to Me.'
Then I cried out upon him: Cease,
Leave me in peace:
Fear not that I should crave
Aught thou mayst have.
Leave me in peace, yea trouble me no more,
Lest I arise and chase thee from my door.
What, shall I not be let
Alone, that thou dost vex me yet?
But all night long that voice spake urgently:
'Open to Me.'
Still harping in mine ears:
'Rise, let Me in.'
Pleading with tears:
'Open to Me that I may come to thee.'
While the dew dropped, while the dark hours were cold:
'My Feet bleed, see My Face,
See My Hands bleed that bring thee grace,
My Heart doth bleed for thee,
Open to Me.'
So till the break of day:
Then died away
That voice, in silence as of sorrow;
Then footsteps echoing like a sigh
Passed me by,
Lingering footsteps slow to pass.
On the morrow
I saw upon the grass
Each footprint marked in blood, and on my door
The mark of blood for evermore.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti

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The Last Question
New love, new love, where are you to lead me?
All along a narrow way that marks a crooked line.
How are you to slake me, and how are you to feed me?
With bitter yellow berries, and a sharp new wine.
New love, new love, shall I be forsaken?
One shall go a-wandering, and one of us must sigh.
Sweet it is to slumber, but how shall we awaken-
Whose will be the broken heart, when dawn comes by?
poem by Dorothy Parker

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Prince Passes By
Ambience is
almost of candle light,
I seem him vaguely in
restaurant/club that night.
Protected by 2 men
that are very tall,
looking at him,
he’s short and small.
No one knows he is there,
eating at his favorite place,
without a care.
Except for my friend,
he said he came out of
“room for men”.
Prince looked at me,
but I did not see,
I was too busy being hungry.
Next time I will pay the way,
for his birthday with a cake on a tray.
Written by Christina Sunrise on Feb.4,2011
poem by Christina Sunrise

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For Everyone The Life Journey
For everyone the life journey is different though a journey that for all of us must end
Along the way we meet some who do not like us But we also do make many a good friend
And on the journey we learn many lessons we've been learning from life since before we did crawl
And every day we live in life for us a lesson and that applies to you and me and all
And on our life journey we make many mistakes and for every one of them some price to pay
But we must struggle onwards towards the finish and every dawning for us a new day
For many life's road more uphill than downhill it is a hard journey to undertake
We have the good days and we have the bad days and every dawn to a new challenge we wake
Tomorrow is another day they will tell you and tomorrow in it's own good time will come
But tomorrow will not be for everybody today's will be the last sunset for some
For every one of us life's journey is different so different for you as it is for me
And our thinking on most things are quite different we all look at life so very differently
For everyone the life journey has to end sometime but where or when we are not meant to know
For some it will end before they reach their prime years and for some when they are walking slow.
poem by Francis Duggan

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Amor Mundi
'Oh, where are you going with your love-locks flowing
On the west wind blowing along this valley track?'
'The downhill path is easy, come with me an' it please ye,
We shall escape the uphill by never turning back.'
So they two went together in glowing August weather,
The honey-breathing heather lay to their left and right;
And dear she was to doat on, her swift feet seemed to float on
The air like soft twin pigeons too sportive to alight.
'Oh, what is that in heaven where grey cloud-flakes are seven,
Where blackest clouds hang riven just at the rainy skirt?'
'Oh, that's a meteor sent us, a message dumb, portentous,—
An undeciphered solemn signal of help or hurt.'
'Oh, what is that glides quickly where velvet flowers grow thickly,
Their scent comes rich and sickly?'—'A scaled and hooded worm.'
'Oh, what's that in the hollow, so pale I quake to follow?'
'Oh, that's a thin dead body which waits th' eternal term.'
'Turn again, O my sweetest,—turn again, false and fleetest:
This way whereof thou weetest I fear is hell's own track.'
'Nay, too steep for hill-mounting,—nay, too late for cost-counting:
This downhill path is easy, but there's no turning back.'
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti

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Sonnet: A Master of Art
His art when he feels is about to ebb;
Or reaches a point of disappearance;
This is the place he must start his romance,
And like a spider create his best web.
His mind and soul are blended with his art;
There follows spate of a new energy;
His art has turned to immortality;
The job of creation o’er-fills his heart.
And if he should go on undaunted still,
In to domains new and landscapes unseen;
Success appears no more a task uphill;
His life of art is bathed in a new sheen.
The Master Artist is more made than born,
With labor/ luck/ time every night and morn.
poem by John Celes

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Holy Innocents
Sleep, little Baby, sleep,
The holy Angels love thee,
And guard thy bed, and keep
A blessed watch above thee.
No spirit can come near
Nor evil beast to harm thee:
Sleep, Sweet, devoid of fear
Where nothing need alarm thee.
The Love which doth not sleep,
The eternal arms around thee:
The shepherd of the sheep
In perfect love has found thee.
Sleep through the holy night,
Christ-kept from snare and sorrow,
Until thou wake to light
And love and warmth to-morrow.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti

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Uphill Rythm
A running poem for grinding up those hills.....hope it helps!
Got to get those feet moving first....
1-2-3-4
Up-hill Rhy-thm
1-2-3-4
Up-hill Rhy-thm
1-2-I've got no respect for pain,
My willpower's high octane,
I'm steaming up this hill like a supercharged train.
I'm in the physical commotion,
Of human locomotion
I have legs that are powered by internal combustion
I drink kerosene,
I sweat petroleum,
There's nothing ever been
That can break my uphill rhythm
1-2-3-4
Up-hill Ry-thm
1-2-3-4
Some call me flunky,
'cause I'm a running junky,
I don't snort coke
I don't do heroin,
But I get high on respiration and I shoot adrenaline
Pounding, pounding, pounding
Deep into my soul
I'm not stopping
It's time for cortisol.
1-2-3-4
Up-hill flunk-y
1-2-3-4
Up-hill Junk-y
I don't want to join your team
I don't need to win your race
I run my own dream
I set my own pace
Running, running, running
Until I have an aneurysm
But don't bet your money that will break my uphill rhythm
That's i t: -)
poem by Mike Michaels

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Better Days
Hard times are fallin' on you
Even when you smile I see the hurt come through
And I know it feels like it's never gonna end
You say nothin's been right for a long time
And every step you take is an uphill climb
I see you're reachin' out
So let me tell you friend that
Better days are comin' around
I know you feel like
The whole world's gone and let you down but
Better days they're comin' for you
I know they will
'Cause I'll be right here makin' sure they do
And if your sky ain't lookin' the fairest
There ain't no reason to be embarrassed
Ain't nobody in the world ain't felt
The rain from time to time
And just when you think it's all over and done
The night get easier one by one
So take my hand and hold on tight
And soon you're gonna find that
Better days are comin' around
I know you feel like
The whole world's gone and let you down but
Better days they're comin' for you
I know they will
'Cause I'll be right here makin' sure they do
I know what it's like
To have to face the fight
But I won't let you stand alone
song performed by by Faith Hill from Faith

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You May As Well Be Happy
You may as well be happy for your troubles only few
And compared to many others hardships you've not been through
Some people know great poverty and their life journey uphill
But they make the most of their lives and they live on with a will.
And when your little worries with another you do share
He only shrugs his shoulders as if to say I do not care
For he has his own troubles and that for him enough
His life journey is uphill and the path he climb is rough.
You may as well be happy for a smile don't cost a thing
And the sound of happy laughter to it has a pleasant ring
And make the most of every day your troubles only small
For the simple gift of happiness is the greatest gift of all
You may as well be happy no need for you to feel sad
For compared to some other people your life not at all bad
And if you walk around with a happy look and to others smile and say hello
Then you spread the gift of happiness and of you they wish to know.
poem by Francis Duggan

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What Inn is this
115
What Inn is this
Where for the night
Peculiar Traveller comes?
Who is the Landlord?
Where the maids?
Behold, what curious rooms!
No ruddy fires on the hearth—
No brimming Tankards flow—
Necromancer! Landlord!
Who are these below?
poem by Emily Dickinson

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Dost Thou Not Care?
I love and love not: Lord, it breaks my heart
To love and not to love.
Thou veiled within Thy glory, gone apart
Into Thy shrine, which is above,
Dost Thou not love me, Lord, or care
For this mine ill?—
I love thee here or there,
I will accept thy broken heart, lie still.
Lord, it was well with me in time gone by
That cometh not again,
When I was fresh and cheerful, who but I?
I fresh, I cheerful: worn with pain
Now, out of sight and out of heart;
O Lord, how long?—
I watch thee as thou art,
I will accept thy fainting heart, be strong.
'Lie still,' 'be strong,' to-day; but, Lord, to-morrow,
What of to-morrow, Lord?
Shall there be rest from toil, be truce from sorrow,
Be living green upon the sward
Now but a barren grave to me,
Be joy for sorrow?—
Did I not die for thee?
Did I not live for thee? Leave Me to-morrow.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti

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Room Full Of Fools
ROOM FULL OF FOOLS
Your looking for love in a 'room full of fools',
4 are drunks, and 2 are cruel,
You know all of them are no good for you.
Only you are the fool
for you know you won’t find love,
You keep hoping and praying
things will change,
Only you are caught in the drama and
you're on Center stage.
You have to wake up because you are dreaming
do not repeat this nightmare again.
Written by Christina Sunrise Copyright 1997-2011
poem by Christina Sunrise

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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