Siren Song
Some sensed sweet siren calling
through airwaves from the West,
fleet song, treat neat, recalling
enchantment sung with zest,
wove subtle thread enthralling
to filter second best,
sent competition sprawling
wash waved away all rest.
All felt sweet siren calling.
Who that muse music heeded
were haunted by her flaunting.
She offered what they needed,
what they perceived was wanting,
with further wishes seeded.
Unequalled, fair and daunting -
all warnings went unheeded –
she led all onwards, taunting,
as Fate’s dire doom was speeded.
Some for her bounty fulsome,
some for fair beauty rare,
from town and county bosom
all rushed, – one grace to share.
One face shone forth there, twosome
to each vowed all, see their
wander-lost souls succumb
few for advice could care,
enthralled by beauty’s blossom.
All who tuned in conceded
the need for greater needs,
each sought her breast then kneeded,
full flesh for milk which feeds
the senses which proceeded
to mirage that misleads.
Each goal, when reached, receded -
rich promise proved dry weeds –
all by day dreams impeded..
Each eye was sparkling beady
with private visions wide, -
those visions soon turned seedy,
anticipations died.
For siren mistress greedy
to vanity replied,
the piper pied tone reedy
led on to mirage bride
who, wanton, doom supplied
to tongue-tied mortals needy.
Soon swan song turned to siren -
harsh, strident, echo high -
trust blown by gust, fell silent,
fell dread high hopes belied,
bell toxin tocsin iron
turned tone, tolled, told denied,
while with disaster’s eye on
their lust her will would lie.
Soon swan song spurned by siren.
To ashes urned ambition
swift turned – west, north, south, east –
too fast vast blast’s ignition
burned both proud man, loth beast: -
no pardon, no remission,
was granted, not the least,
upon decomposition
few shall remain to feast...
So ends this composition
temptation's tune released.
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Related quotes
Siren
Siren, siren, calling me from the sea,
Spill the sweetness of your words and your voice—
Spill them with such lucid fluidity
That I sink in them without having choice.
Siren, siren, sing me into a lull,
Bewitch me with your charm and your danger—
An insatiable thirst I can't control
For adventures, your lure of grandeur.
Siren, siren, slipping through my fingers
Like a formless liquid, make me submit.
You move with an air that seems to linger,
Perfumed with pleasures that seem infinite.
Siren, siren, entice the sensation
Of love within my imagination.
poem by Tim Stensloff
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What Siren-Song Arises
What siren-song arises
From the sweet silver bosom of the sea
By the three rocks?
No human eyes to watch
No human eyes to see
And yet
The elfin forms in dwindling shadows dance
And then
Of sudden the shadows grow
As in a trance.
What siren-song ariseth
From the weary sea, the funereal dirge
Of mariners lost and gone, perhaps?
What siren-song ariseth
This sad night, this endless seeming night
From the sweet silver bosom of the sea
By the three rocks?
poem by Emmanuel George Cefai
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The Song Of The Siren
Oh, I am the siren, the siren of the sea,
The sea, the wondrous sea, that lies forevermore before;
I stand a fairy shape upon the shadow of a cliff
Where the water's drowsy ripple laps the phantom of a shore,
And, oh, so fair, so fair am I, I draw all hearts to me,
For I am the siren, the siren of the sea.
All the glory of my golden tresses gleams upon the air,
How it falls about my snowy shoulders, round and bare and white;
My lips are full of love as rounded grapes are full of wine,
And my eyes are large and languid, and full of dewy light;
Oh, I lure the idle landsmen many a league for love of me,
For I am the siren, the siren of the sea.
Sometimes they press so near that my breath is on their cheek,
And their eager hands can almost touch the glowing bowl I bear,
They can see the beaded froth, the ruby glitter of the wine,
Then I slip from their embraces like a breath of summer air;
Oh, I lightly, lightly glide away, they come no nigher me,
For I am the siren, the siren of the sea.
Sometimes I float along a-standing in a boat,
Before the ships becalmed, where dusky sailors stand,
And the helmsman drops his oar, and the lookout leaves his glass,
So I beckon them, and lure them, with the whiteness of my hand;
Oh, this the song I sing, well they listen unto me?
For I am the siren, the siren of the sea.
Would you from toil and labor flee,
Oh float ye out on this wonderful sea,
From islands of spice the zephyrs blow,
Swaying the galleys to and fro;
Silken sails and a balmy breeze
Shall waft you unto a perfect ease.
Fold your hands and rest, and rest,
The sun sails on from the east to the west,
The days will come, and the days will go,
What good can man for his labor show
In passionless peace, come float with me
Over the waves of this wonderful sea.
Would you forget, oh sorrowful soul,
Come and drink of this golden bowl,
With jewelled poppies about the rim,
Drink of the wine that flushes its brim,
And drown all your haunting memories there,
Your woe and your weary care.
Oh, I am the siren, the siren of the sea,
The sea, the wondrous sea, that lies forevermore before;
Oh, the mystic music ripples, how they break in rosy spray,
But the crystal wave will mock them, they will reach it
nevermore,
For it glides away, I glide away, they come no nigher me,
For I am the siren, the siren of the sea.
poem by Marietta Holley
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Siren of the Red
Siren of the Red,
Your voice sings so beautifully.
Siren of the Red,
You can help me see.
Siren of the Red,
How to make you love me.
Siren of the Red,
With your love so heavenly.
poem by Satan's Sibling
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The Siren's Song
The Siren's Song
By: Adam M. Snow
Once upon a midnight wake,
A Siren sings, 'Sweet mercy sake'
Soothes the hearts O' gentle man,
In their yielding peaceful span.
Sirens cometh from the deep,
Cloaked in light the water sleep,
Claims the souls, lost to man,
Since the dawning life began.
Gathers victims from the shore,
Spoke the stories ancient lore,
Of beauty risen from the sea,
Captures souls without a plea.
Mesmerized them with her song,
And as the boat-head wound along,
Lighthouse glistens over tides,
Kiss her lips and she abides,
Kiss her twice, your souls no more,
And death awaits at your shore.
poem by Adam M. Snow
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Childhood is calling
Come on people move
For childhood is calling
time to get up and groove
there is no time for stalling
Enjoy the warm sunny day
and chase all of your blues away
this is a day that is so enthralling
listen, as your childhood is calling
old men sit and are soon recalling
and slowly as their hair is graying
they hear the siren song of youth playing
saying that their childhood is calling
the time is slipping away so quickly,
so run fast and catch the dying sun
for childhood is calling
and your life has just begun
JPM 1/4/2008 - 1/11/2008
Whalesong
As wondrous as the stars at night,
That shine so bright and strong,
The precious joy that brings delight
Is that the whale has song.
The siren of the sapphire seas,
With tunes so lyrical...
To me, these are the things that please,
With each a miracle...
Perhaps it tames the savage beast,
As one of God's celebs
That glides below from west to east
Mid music of the depths...
Perhaps not with another whale,
But there and all alone,
With love his only Holy Grail...
Or Philosopher's Stone...
Like happy humans humming tunes,
Like hummingbirds and such,
The lonesome whale's seen many moons
And dreams of love so much...
When whalesong's played, we listen close,
To each new siren call...
There's only one thing each whale knows,
In life, true love is all...
Denis Martindale, copyright, October 2011.
Web site: wwf-dot-org-dot-uk/Adopt_A_Whale
poem by Denis Martindale
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Adopt A Whale
As wondrous as the stars at night,
That shine so bright and strong,
The precious joy that brings delight
Is that the whale has song.
The siren of the sapphire seas,
With tunes so lyrical...
To me, these are the things that please,
With each a miracle...
Perhaps it tames the savage beast,
As one of God's celebs
That glides below from west to east
Mid music of the depths...
Perhaps not with another whale,
But there and all alone,
With love his only Holy Grail...
Or Philosopher's Stone...
Like happy humans humming tunes,
Like hummingbirds and such,
The lonesome whale's seen many moons
And dreams of love so much...
When whalesong's played, we listen close,
To each new siren call...
There's only one thing each whale knows,
In life, true love is all...
Denis Martindale, copyright, October 2011.
Web site: wwf-dot-org-dot-uk/Adopt_A_Whale
poem by Denis Martindale
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The King and the Siren
The harsh King--Winter--sat upon the hills,
And reigned and ruled the earth right royally.
He locked the rivers, lakes, and all the rills--
"I am no puny, maudlin king," quoth he,
"But a stern monarch, born to rule, and reign;
And I'll show my power to the end.
The summer's flowery retinue I've slain,
And taken the bold, free North Wind for my friend.
"Spring, Summer, Autumn--feeble queens they were,
With their vast troops of flowers, birds and bees,
Soft winds, that made the long green grasses stir--
They lost their own identity in things like these!
I scorn them all! nay, I defy them all!
And none can wrest the sceptre from my hand.
The trusty North Wind answers to my call,
And breathes this icy breath upon the land."
The Siren--South Wind--listening the while,
Now floated airily across the lea.
"Oh King!" she cried, with tender tone and smile,
"I come to do all homage unto thee.
In all the sunny region, whence I came,
I find none like thee, King, so brave and grand!
Thine is a well deserved, unrivaled fame;
I kiss, in awe, dear King, thy cold white hand."
Her words were pleasing, and most fair her face.
He listened wrapt, to her soft-whispered praise.
She nestled nearer, in her Siren grace.
"Dear King," she said, "henceforth my voice shall raise
But songs of thy unrivaled splendor! Lo!
How white thy brow is! How thy garments shine!
I tremble 'neath thy beaming glance, for Oh,
Thy wondrous beauty mak'st thee seem divine."
The rain King listened, in a trance of bliss,
To this most sweet-voiced Siren from the South,
She nestled close, and pressed a lingering kiss
Upon the stern white pallor of his mouth.
She hung upon his breast, she pressed his cheek,
And he was nothing loth to hold her there,
While she such tender, loving words did speak,
And combed his white locks with her fingers fair.
And so she bound him, in her Siren wiles,
And stole his strength, with every kiss she gave,
And stabbed him through and through with tender smiles,
And with her tender words she dug his grave;
And then she left him, old, and weak, and blind,
And unlocked all the rivers, lakes, and rills,
While the queen Spring, with her whole troop behind,
Of flowers, and birds, and bees, came o'er the hills.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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The Butterfly Effect
The Butterfly Effect
Foreword
An Adelpha Cytherea changed the cycle of events,
as she left the rotting tree and flew to ground.
Whereon she took her moisture, then she held her wings, so tense
that the swift, ensuing flap could cause, the weather to astound.
That lightest shift of molecules, that domino effect,
would end outside the realms of credulation.
As two tornados turned that day and came to intercept
the origin of what may be her lifetime meditation....
_______________
'A single snowflake caught her eye, as it fell from a cloudless sky
Drifting then lifting, then as one, undulating. She followed its path
as it searched for her tongue...'
_______________
I was that solitary snowflake, left to wanton winds' device
caught between the chrysalis of rain and vapour, hail and ice,
cast adrift from fellow souls who once were in my throng.
I was that solitary snowflake searching for the siren's song.
Lifted from the saturated, cloud-borne bed of all my piers
radically accelerated, wherein seconds, may be years.
The two tornados meshed and merged, creating as they clashed
a pinpoint, perfect wind which surged to carry me on its icy blast.
Without the massed distracting din of fellow crystals forming
I failed to notice, in descent, the air around me warming.
Instead, below, I sensed a soul. A strong magnetic pull.
A beauty or a bitter goal, befitting of a fool?
With no external influences, no innate need to control
I willed myself toward her senses. (Could communion make us whole?)
Her gaze had followed from on high
as I had came to be.
A tiny dot traversed her eye.
(our synchronicity?)
So deep in thought, what felt like hours,
scanning each slight change in course.
A nearby moth, exposed its powers,
advent of unwelcomed force.
The second when we would have met
her head held high, her tongue exposed
its breeze repaid Adelpha's debt...
I fell, instead...upon her nose.
poem by Hola Mentirosa
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As Her Notes Glisten the Wind
As Her Notes Glisten the Wind
By: Adam M. Snow
Never again, will I wake my siren within
And let her sing a requiem tune.
Erasing the words until it is sung
As my life be dead by spoken croon.
Never again, her notes glisten the wind
But softly it reigns burden be my heart.
Her voice chill the air upon me
And by that dost my soul depart.
Quaintly I long for a foolish song
From the writer who sung mute.
The words like a pendulum above my chest
Hanging perfectly acute.
Never again, I bow my head to shame
My siren's voice dost be angels lips.
I am captivated by such hellish song
That left my world in eclipse.
poem by Adam M. Snow
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No siren did ever so charm the ear of the listener as the listening ear has charmed the soul of the siren.
quote by Henry Taylor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Siren Song
[bairnson/musker]
Days go by
Adrift upon a rolling sky
The miracles escape my eyes
But I still hope
Time, regret
Is this as good as life can get?
Its only when the spirit sets me free I cope
If I seek in every corner
If I search in every doorway
When the water turns to wine will I believe?
If I navigate the river
Would you take me to your island?
Sing a siren song so I can never leave
Long and wide
Eternity from side to side
Lead me through the rapids
Guide me to the shore
Theres a place
Thats far beyond this time and space
When each of us comes face to face with something more
If I open up the channel
Will you send me information
If you tune me to your station, Ill receive
If I navigate the river
Would you take me to your island
Sing a siren song so I can never leave
Plans can fail
But only fail to understand
The pyramid will turn to sand and Ill be here
...i will be here
song performed by by Alan Parsons Project
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Blood Milk And Sky (live)
chanting in tongues)
The siren sings a lonly song
Of all the wants and hungers
The lust of love a brute desire
The ledge of life goes under
Divide the dream into the flesh
Kaleidoscope and candle eyes
Empty winds scrape on the soul
But never stop to realize
Animal whisperings
Intoxicate the night
Hypnotize the desperate
Slow motion light
Wash away into the rain
Blood, milk and sky
Hollow moons illuminate
And beauty never dies
Running wild, running blind
In the body deep
A thousand years beside myself
I do not sleep
Seduce the world at rest
Dead water lies
Ride the only one who knows
Beauty never dies
song performed by by White Zombie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Paraphrase Of Heine
(LYRIC INTERMEZZO)
There fell a star from realms above--
A glittering, glorious star to see!
Methought it was the star of love,
So sweetly it illumined me.
And from the apple branches fell
Blossoms and leaves that time in June;
The wanton breezes wooed them well
With soft caress and amorous tune.
The white swan proudly sailed along
And vied her beauty with her note--
The river, jealous of her song,
Threw up its arms to clasp her throat.
But now--oh, now the dream is past--
The blossoms and the leaves are dead,
The swan's sweet song is hushed at last,
And not a star burns overhead.
poem by Eugene Field
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Song Of The South
Written by bob mcdill
Chorus
Song, song of the south.
Sweet potato pie and I shut my mouth.
Gone, gone with the wind.
There aint nobody looking back again.
Cotton on the roadside, cotton in the ditch.
We all picked the cotton but we never got rich.
Daddy was a veteran, a southern democrat.
They oughta get a rich man to vote like that.
Sing it...
Chorus
Well somebody told us wall street fell
But we were so poor that we couldnt tell.
Cotton was short and the weeds were tall
But mr. roosevelts a gonna save us all.
Well momma got sick and daddy got down.
The county got the farm and they moved to town.
Pappa got a job with the tva
He bought a washing machine and then a chevrolet.
Sing it...
Chorus
Play it...
Sing it...
Chorus
Song, song of the south...
Gone, gone with the wind...
Song, song of the south.
Sweet potato pie and I shut my mouth.
Song, song of the south.
Sweet potato pie and I shut my mouth.
Sing it...
Chorus 2x
song performed by by Alabama
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Tree of Laughing Bells
[A Poem for Aviators]
How the Wings Were Made
From many morning-glories
That in an hour will fade,
From many pansy buds
Gathered in the shade,
From lily of the valley
And dandelion buds,
From fiery poppy-buds
Are the Wings of the Morning made.
The Indian Girl Who Made Them
These, the Wings of the Morning,
An Indian Maiden wove,
Intertwining subtilely
Wands from a willow grove
Beside the Sangamon —
Rude stream of Dreamland Town.
She bound them to my shoulders
With fingers golden-brown.
The wings were part of me;
The willow-wands were hot.
Pulses from my heart
Healed each bruise and spot
Of the morning-glory buds,
Beginning to unfold
Beneath her burning song of suns untold.
The Indian Girl Tells the Hero Where to Go to Get the Laughing Bell
"To the farthest star of all,
Go, make a moment's raid.
To the west — escape the earth
Before your pennons fade!
West! west! o'ertake the night
That flees the morning sun.
There's a path between the stars —
A black and silent one.
O tremble when you near
The smallest star that sings:
Only the farthest star
Is cool for willow wings.
"There's a sky within the west —
There's a sky beyond the skies
Where only one star shines —
The Star of Laughing Bells —
In Chaos-land it lies;
Cold as morning-dew,
A gray and tiny boat
Moored on Chaos-shore,
Where nothing else can float
But the Wings of the Morning strong
And the lilt of laughing song
From many a ruddy throat:
"For the Tree of Laughing Bells
Grew from a bleeding seed
Planted mid enchantment
Played on a harp and reed:
Darkness was the harp —
Chaos-wind the reed;
The fruit of the tree is a bell, blood-red —
The seed was the heart of a fairy, dead.
Part of the bells of the Laughing Tree
Fell to-day at a blast from the reed.
Bring a fallen bell to me.
Go!" the maiden said.
"For the bell will quench our memory,
Our hope,
Our borrowed sorrow;
We will have no thirst for yesterday,
No thought for to-morrow."
The Journey Starts Swiftly
A thousand times ten thousand times
More swift than the sun's swift light
Were the Morning Wings in their flight
On — On —
West of the Universe,
Thro' the West
To Chaos-night.
He Nears the Goal
How the red bells rang
As I neared the Chaos-shore!
As I flew across to the end of the West
The young bells rang and rang
Above the Chaos roar,
And the Wings of the Morning
Beat in tune
And bore me like a bird along —
And the nearing star turned to a moon —
Gray moon, with a brow of red —
Gray moon with a golden song.
Like a diver after pearls
I plunged to that stifling floor.
It was wide as a giant's wheat-field
An icy, wind-washed shore.
O laughing, proud, but trembling star!
O wind that wounded sore!
He Climbs the Hill Where the Tree Grows
On —
Thro' the gleaming gray
I ran to the storm and clang —
To the red, red hill where the great tree swayed —
And scattered bells like autumn leaves.
How the red bells rang!
My breath within my breast
Was held like a diver's breath —
The leaves were tangled locks of gray —
The boughs of the tree were white and gray,
Shaped like scythes of Death.
The boughs of the tree would sweep and sway —
Sway like scythes of Death.
But it was beautiful!
I knew that all was well.
A thousand bells from a thousand boughs
Each moment bloomed and fell.
On the hill of the wind-swept tree
There were no bells asleep;
They sang beneath my trailing wings
Like rivers sweet and steep.
Deep rock-clefts before my feet
Mighty chimes did keep
And little choirs did keep.
He Receives the Bells
Honeyed, small and fair,
Like flowers, in flowery lands —
Like little maidens' hands —
Two bells fell in my hair,
Two bells caressed my hair.
I pressed them to my purple lips
In the strangling Chaos-air.
He Starts on the Return Journey
On desperate wings and strong,
Two bells within my breast,
I breathed again, I breathed again —
West of the Universe —
West of the skies of the West.
Into the black toward home,
And never a star in sight,
By Faith that is blind I took my way
With my two bosomed blossoms gay
Till a speck in the East was the Milky way:
Till starlit was the night.
And the bells had quenched all memory —
All hope —
All borrowed sorrow:
I had no thirst for yesterday,
No thought for to-morrow.
Like hearts within my breast
The bells would throb to me
And drown the siren stars
That sang enticingly;
My heart became a bell —
Three bells were in my breast,
Three hearts to comfort me.
We reached the daytime happily —
We reached the earth with glee.
In an hour, in an hour it was done!
The wings in their morning flight
Were a thousand times ten thousand times
More swift than beams of light.
He Gives What He Won to the Indian Girl
I panted in the grassy wood;
I kissed the Indian Maid
As she took my wings from me:
With all the grace I could
I gave two throbbing bells to her
From the foot of the Laughing Tree.
And one she pressed to her golden breast
And one, gave back to me.
From Lilies of the valley —
See them fade.
From poppy-blooms all frayed,
From dandelions gray with care,
From pansy-faces, worn and torn,
From morning-glories —
See them fade —
From all things fragile, faint and fair
Are the Wings of the Morning made!
poem by Vachel Lindsay
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Blood, Milk & Sky
The siren sings a
Lonely song of all the
Wants and hungers
The lust of love a brute
Desire - the ledge of life
Goes under - divide the
Dream into the flesh
Kaleidoscope and -
Candle eyes - empty
Winds scrape on the
Soul - but never stop
To realize -
Animal whisperings
Intoxicate the night
Hypnotize the deperate
Slow motion light - wash
Away into the rain
Blood, milk and sky
Hollow moons illuminate
And beauty never dies
Running wild running blind
I breathe the body deep
1,000 years beside myself
I do not sleep - seduce
The world it never
Screams dead water lies
Ride the only one who
Knows - beauty never dies
song performed by by Rob Zombie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shivering In The Dark
The lights are silenced....,
The shades are drawn...,
While waiting impatiently....,
For the dawn....,
I'm Shivering In The Dark...,
Lonely and scared....,
Shivering In The Dark...,
In the far distance...,
I hear a faint siren....,
Unlike the siren in my heart...,
Calling for you....,
While I'm shivering....,
Shivering In The Dark...,
Waiting, wondering, quivering...,
And Shivering In The Dark.
poem by Trade Martin
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A Meeting
Quite carelessly I turned the newsy sheet;
A song I sang, full many a year ago,
Smiled up at me, as in a busy street
One meets an old-time friend he used to know.
So full it was, that simple little song,
Of all the hope, the transport, and the truth,
Which to the impetuous morn of life belong,
That once again I seemed to grasp my youth.
So full it was of that sweet, fancied pain
We woo and cherish ere we meet with woe,
I felt as one who hears a plaintive strain
His mother sang him in the long ago.
Up from the grave the years that lay between
That song's birthday and my stern present came
Like phantom forms and swept across the scene,
Bearing their broken dreams of love and fame.
Fair hopes and bright ambitions that I knew
In that old time, with their ideal grace,
Shone for a moment, then were lost to view
Behind the dull clouds of the commonplace.
With trembling hands I put the sheet away;
Ah, little song! the sad and bitter truth
Struck like an arrow when we met that day!
My life has missed the promise of its youth.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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