Ten Thousand Feet from Home
Whatever else will come of this (and I'm convinced that nothing will) ,
The rums and Cokes have set my eyes to dancing as I stand out here,
With cigarette, beneath a moon which casts those peaks in ghostly
Light. It's Leadville once again, July, and I have come to see my
Cousins. I have come to peel away the puffy husk of life lived in
The suburbs, atmospheres below, and be as they prefer to see me:
Savage, as they are, and drunk, and, in a room upstairs is she,
Who rashly said she's make this journey. Her husk hasn't peeled
Away, and her face, face down on a pillow, drunk as mine, remains
So pretty, warmer, though, than all these peaks. I put my butt into
A can and haul myself, unsteady, upwards, to the room and to the
Woman who has come, but isn't conscious, and the bed beneath
The moon and these, most lovely, frigid peaks, to lay, a-swirl, at
Her side. Not much will come of this.
poem by Lawrence Beck
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Related quotes
Fractured Moon
Fractured moon
In a silver spoon
Dissolved into the eyes
Of awakening tiger
Then moved away
In a vanishing light
With a lunar tone
Fractured moon
Swallowed
By a flying dragon
With all fire and no fire
The fractured moon
Collapsed in doom
While the souls
Of the dead
Still roam
Closer and closer
Near the moon
Around the moon
Within the moon
Or what have left
From a
Fractured moon
Or maybe
Another Moon
Like a photo of
A bright image
Held by aging fingers
Of a woman
Praying in her
Upstairs Room
For “long” dead
Human loved form
Near the bolted
Green back door
Stood a ghostly figure
Of an old man
Weeping
In the silence of
An astral night
Trying for an opening
To reach her
Over and over
But in vain
For the woman
in the
Upstairs room
Darkness born
In the second shadow
Of a fractured moon
And light moulded
In the old house
In a special corner
of
A very special room
Fractured moon
In a silver spoon
Dissolved into the eyes
Of awakening tiger
Then moved away
In a vanishing light
With a lunar tone
poem by Najib Altawell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Drinking Alone in the Moonlight
Amongst the flowers I
am alone with my pot of wine
drinking by myself; then lifting
my cup I asked the moon
to drink with me, its reflection
and mine in the wine cup, just
the three of us; then I sigh
for the moon cannot drink,
and my shadow goes emptily along
with me never saying a word;
with no other friends here, I can
but use these two for company;
in the time of happiness, I
too must be happy with all
around me; I sit and sing
and it is as if the moon
accompanies me; then if I
dance, it is my shadow that
dances along with me; while
still not drunk, I am glad
to make the moon and my shadow
into friends, but then when
I have drunk too much, we
all part; yet these are
friends I can always count on
these who have no emotion
whatsoever; I hope that one day
we three will meet again,
deep in the Milky Way.
Version 2
Beneath the blossoms with a pot of wine,
No friends at hand, so I poured alone;
I raised my cup to invite the moon,
Turned to my shadow, and we became three.
Now the moon had never learned about drinking,
And my shadow had merely followed my form,
But I quickly made friends with the moon and my shadow;
To find pleasure in life, make the most of the spring.
Whenever I sang, the moon swayed with me;
Whenever I danced, my shadow went wild.
Drinking, we shared our enjoyment together;
Drunk, then each went off on his own.
But forever agreed on dispassionate revels,
We promised to meet in the far Milky Way.
More Peaks to Find
I've seen those peaks pass,
As I climbed.
Looking back and feeling fantastic.
To breathe deep the fresh air.
And being aware of accomplishments,
Wished.
'I have done this! '
I can now say it.
I have dreamt that I could.
And did.
What has been desired in my heart...
Has been done.
But I can not rest.
I know my best,
Has not yet come.
I take a deeper breath.
Wasting no time to take more steps.
Continuing to climb I do.
With achieving on my mind!
And knowing there would be more peaks to climb!
More peaks to find and leave behind.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Stage
See the mountains with glorious peaks
Rivers below sigh with eternities flow
Ancient clouds hue with lavender dusk
Mornings mysterious fog floats on lakes
Meadows filled with timeless wild flowers
Cliffs and waterfalls feeding sweet springs
Hear the sea with its rhythmic waves
Blue green water of abundant life
By the shoreline of endless sky
I have prayed on a forests enchanting path
Listen to the swirl of the tops of tall trees
Fall colors of soft red fire and golden joy
We come as strangers from the stars
We get just a short awakening glimpse
Then go back to the sleeping dust
Who has set this wondrous stage?
No one should wreck a child's awe
I have felt the mystical chills
Tillers of the garden, lovers of life
Lets leave it clean for our grandchildren
Lets gather together and protect this gift
Tonight the moon shines like a Saint
Stars surround her like a halo
She peaks her ivory face through trees
Dawn comes with a sun of grand hope
Flowers reach for creations light
Beauty in nature should be preserved
We all pass but the stage remains
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
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Helderberg Hill (Sestina)
You are the high hill with numerous peaks,
that in summer looks magnificent and cheery,
where I have climbed up to waterfalls, to heights,
where I got a view of sun, beach and sea,
felt as if in presence of God, with tranquillity
with your moods you remind me of a lady.
Once I wandered with a young lady
on a twisting trail among your high peaks
to find some inner peace, some tranquillity
and she was quite happy and rather cheery
gazing up at the blue sky, down at the sea
from both of those dazing heights.
Climbing up to the sheer heights
was like exploring the body of a lady
as if finding a secret kind of sea
with beautiful rising pointed peaks
and the experience was quite cheery,
suddenly leaving an own tranquillity.
My privacy is invaded by her tranquillity
as from far I still do watch her heights
and although feeling rather cheery
there is danger in this lovely lady
that beacons me with her high peaks
to look upon an endless open sea.
I long to gaze out upon the sea,
to be with her in tranquillity,
to wander among her peaks,
to again explore her heights
as if to visit a dear kind old lady
but I wonder if I will find her cheery?
But I must now continually stay cheery,
keep far away from the troubled sea,
avoid all of the dangerous heights
of live to be able to find tranquillity
but still the beautiful ageless lady
is luring me continually with her peaks.
How glimmering and cheery with ice her peaks
high above the sea, do glow from their heights,
she is without tranquillity, a chilly frozen lady.
poem by Gert Strydom
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I Prefer The Moonlight
I prefer the moonlight
When temptin eyes cross the room
Said to me Id love to be with you
Im not tempted for a moment
I just think about my woman
My baby calls me on the phone
Telling me I need to hurry home
Well the hurryin is easy
cause shes waiting up
With all the love Im needin
I prefer the moonlight, and a blanket
And the one right little lady by my side
Thats what I like
I prefer a late drive down the turnpike
With the moonlight shinin so bright
Got her by my side
Thats what Id like
When its magic moment time,
I prefer the moonlight
The river plays a quiet song
She and I lay down and play along
Shes her mothers lovely daughter
Moonlight dances on the water
The moon is full and so am i
I look at her and feel like I could cry
But my tears contain no sorrow
cause I know shell wake up by my side tomorrow
I prefer...
Mornin noon and night,
When the feelin comes around
Somewhere in some sky
That ol moon is surely shinin bright
I prefer...
song performed by by Kenny Rogers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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2 In 1
I thinkabout the sun
from sunset to sunrise
like hideand seek, this celestial object
hides from me, and when the sun leaves
the moon peaks from behind the darkness
i stay outall night just to harnest,
midnights beauty, she's sucha beauty
the stars make-up the midnight sky,
like make up they shine when she blushes
Likea shush, the darkness remains silent
at midnights still, the wind blows
and you can feel, the touch of beauty
as the light of the moon shines on the concrete
to reflect hidden sunshine
afterall the sun hides behind the moon
likea celestial game of peeka boo,
then the sun rises to takea peak
Dont stare to longas beauty can blind
and then you willonly beable to feel
the warm embrace of the sun
as it shines over your bodyand
it kisses your cheek puttinga smile
on your face, a smileonly the
sun or moon can make you display,
as it is for the glow of the moon
or the suns rays
poem by Clinton ricks
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fragment
Moon of leaves,
Moon of the falling leaves,
To you I bring the slippers
of the sun.
That you may dance upon the
floor of sun,
My lady carries sun within her eyes.
Moon of the Unrevealed,
Moon of the gold-encrusted shield,
To you I bring the fragment
of my prayer.
Moon of the crinkled hair,
Tell me, will my lady yield
Eyes and mouth and breasts unsealed?
Will my lady yield?
Moon of the yellow streaked with red,
Moon that the sun would lead to bed,
Moon with the death's head
More than dead,
Why do you frighten the Goddess of Love,
Whose frail white fingers are moving above
The lover's white body lost in his love?
Moon, you are more than dead.
Moon of the ermine loist in the snow,
Moon of the frozen furbelow,
Moon of the nothingness here below,
Moon, you must go.
It is the Sun that tells you so-
Moon, you must go.
And I was dark beneath the moon,
And you were dark beneath the moon,
And we were dark beneath the moon.
Now I am gold beneath the sun,
Now you are gold beneath the sun,
Now we are gold beneath the Sun.
poem by Harry Crosby
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Slow Dancing With The Moon
Sweet little cherry blossom, blooming before her time
Moving her lips to her favorite song, cherishing every rhyme
Swaying her hips to the rhythm, humming along with the tune
Lost in her own little dream world, slow dancing with the moon
Watching her I cannot help but go back in my mind
And suddenly I find I am 15 again
Slow dancing with the moon
Oh, the stars got in my eyes long time ago
And Ive lived my life like a love sick clown
In a bittersweet cartoon
Just a dreamy-eyed kid slow dancing with the moon
Watching the girl Im reminded shes quite a lot like me
Trapped in the suburbs of wonderland, lost in her own fantasy
Somehow my heart never grew up, no one ever burst my balloon
So here I am swirling in star dust slow dancing with the moon
Still believe someday my wildest dreams will all come true
And Ill find someone wholl make me 15 again
But until then Im slow dancing with the moon
Oh, the stars got in my eyes long time ago
And Ive lived my life like a love sick clown
In a bittersweet cartoon
Just a dreamy-eyed kid slow dancing with the moon
Tag:
Still a starry-eyed kid slow dancing with the moon
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On Inch Island
bare hedges dancing
with the wind
as crows swirl in flight
sunset fireing a lough
as the peaks beyond
share last night's fall
poem by Liam ó Comáin
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The Peaks
In the night
Grey heavy clouds muffled the valleys,
And the peaks looked toward God alone.
'O Master that movest the wind with a finger,
Humble, idle, futile peaks are we.
Grant that we may run swiftly across the world
To huddle in worship at Thy feet.'
In the morning
A noise of men at work came the clear blue miles,
And the little black cities were apparent.
'O Master that knowest the meaning of raindrops,
Humble, idle, futile peaks are we.
Give voice to us, we pray, O Lord,
That we may sing Thy goodness to the sun.'
In the evening
The far valleys were sprinkled with tiny lights.
'O Master,
Thou that knowest the value of kings and birds,
Thou hast made us humble, idle futile peaks.
Thou only needest eternal patience;
We bow to Thy wisdom, O Lord -
Humble, idle, futile peaks.'
In the night
Grey heavy clouds muffled the valleys,
And the peaks looked toward God alone.
poem by Stephen Crane
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Makarora
Rocky peaks of Makarora in the summer wear their snow
And down the lush green grassy valley the clear mountain river flow
Songbirds piping in the beechwoods songthrush, bellbird and
redpoll
This a place of peace and beauty Makarora has a soul.
These great mountains look no different than to when the first man came
They have a wild rugged beauty for want of a better name
To the coming generations these high peaks will look the same
Man will not build houses on them man such wildness could not tame.
Summer's come to Makarora and along with her brought her green
Beauty to compare with any with the finest I have seen
This place would inspire an artist peaks in summer white
with snow
Beechwoods and through lush green valley sparkling mountain river flow.
Those high peaks of makarora will not change as years go by
Out there on those rugged mountains bones of Maori hunter lie
Still these mountains keep their secrets monarchs of the higher ground
Overlooking Makarora and the woodlands all around
Snow clad peaks of Makarora reaching upwards towards the sky
I am just a passing stranger and I'll be bidding you goodbye
But I will take with me the memories of beauty I have seen
today
Woodlands in a lush green valley by those mountains far away
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Room
(chris waters/tom shapiro)
When I pull in the drive where your car used to be
It doesnt hurt me like it used to
I can walk through the door, and not wonder anymore
Where you are, like I used to
I can go down the hall, see the pictures on the wall
And not miss you
But I just cant bring myself to go into..
The room
Where I spent every night with you
And the light of the moon
Came through the window
And I held you
We were so close
And its just too soon
For me to go into the room
Id remember too much if I opened that door
And Im not sure if I could face it
The beds emptiness would remind me youre with
Someone else, and I couldnt take it
So, I sleep on the couch in our living room now
Since our love died
cause Im still not ready yet to go inside...
The room
Where I spent every night with you
And the light of the moon
Came through the window
And I held you
We were so close
And its just too soon
For me to go into the room
Where the light of the moon
Came through the window
And I held you
We were so close
And its just too soon
For me to go into the room
song performed by by Wade Hayes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Sheet Of Shroud
A vast amphitheatre
Of snow extends beyond the sight,
Peaks behind peaks stretch
To the skyline, only unsullied
Whiteness is visible, as if
Bodies of mountains and hills,
Have swathed themselves,
Into a huge sheet of shroud.
Silences overflow in the region,
The birds and animals
Of the summer, have migrated
To the warmer side of the globe,
Before the chilly winds
Have wrapped the valley.
No song of a nightingale
Or a cuckoo is heard;
Except swish of the wind,
When it passes through
A narrow gorge or rumbles
Of the tumbling icebergs,
When they break and go
Tumbling down and crash
With muffled grumbles
In the bottom, or seldom
Bilateral tut-tut, tut-tut
Of machine guns,
Pointed at the rival troops
By the soldiers in icy trenches,
Or a shriek when someone
Is killed on either side.
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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Pearl of My Heart
The sky is blue, clouds are clear
I know the stars will do the sky,
Here I sit and wait, for one so dear
Pearl of my heart, so lovely and pretty.
Once I set my eyes, I knew that day,
I saw Angle in you, twinkle in your eye
Set my blood rolling and galloping like a Deer
Pearl of my heart, so lovely and pretty.
In my dreams, you conquer
I dream about outings, on beaches
Of lovely views on mountain peaks and flowers
I look up the sky, I’ll wait, the clock ticks,
Pearl of my heart, so lovely and pretty.
poem by Charles Jagongo Ogola
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Peaks
I saw the mountains,
They seem so strong,
Our fragile existence,
Is defined by the stone,
All love and longing,
Are over bearing here,
Among the peaks,
The peaks of stone,
And desire,
The power of the stone,
Its stronger then my soul,
Its ageless innocence,
Surrounds me,
Making my own innocence clearer,
Their strength seems to never fade,
Mine can only grow.
poem by Agata Konopka
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In the night
In the night
Grey heavy clouds muffled the valleys,
And the peaks looked toward God alone.
"O Master that movest the wind with a finger,
Humble, idle, futile peaks are we.
Grant that we may run swiftly across the world
To huddle in worship at Thy feet."
In the morning
A noise of men at work came the clear blue miles,
And the little black cities were apparent.
"O Master that knowest the meaning of raindrops,
Humble, idle, futile peaks are we.
Give voice to us, we pray, O Lord,
That we may sing Thy goodness to the sun."
In the evening
The far valleys were sprinkled with tiny lights.
"O Master,
Thou that knowest the value of kings and birds,
Thou hast made us humble, idle futile peaks.
Thou only needest eternal patience;
We bow to Thy wisdom, O Lord --
Humble, idle, futile peaks."
In the night
Grey heavy clouds muffled the valleys,
And the peaks looked toward God alone.
poem by Stephen Crane
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Enough...Enough...Enough!
childhood-
chipped pieces of wood
stoking
fires of youth
wild fire!
ash on every hand
and face
pounded
powdered
husk blows
on shores of life
legs move with difficulty
the husk obstructing...
crescendo?
de-crescendo?
poem by Indira Babbellapati
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dance In Silver Moonlight
I would dance with thee
among mountain peaks
beneath soft star lit night
under silver moonlight
sound of whisper creeks
to lovers hearts speaks
among moonlit silver rays
lover bound heart slaves
dance in silver moonlight
dance throughout night
sliver shadow love peaks
as this soul is lost in thee
two hearts moonlight free
never more parted can be
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Alone And Drinking Under The Moon
Amongst the flowers I
am alone with my pot of wine
drinking by myself; then lifting
my cup I asked the moon
to drink with me, its reflection
and mine in the wine cup, just
the three of us; then I sigh
for the moon cannot drink,
and my shadow goes emptily along
with me never saying a word;
with no other friends here, I can
but use these two for company;
in the time of happiness, I
too must be happy with all
around me; I sit and sing
and it is as if the moon
accompanies me; then if I
dance, it is my shadow that
dances along with me; while
still not drunk, I am glad
to make the moon and my shadow
into friends, but then when
I have drunk too much, we
all part; yet these are
friends I can always count on
these who have no emotion
whatsoever; I hope that one day
we three will meet again,
deep in the Milky Way.