We Promised There Would Be A Return
Why the somber and solem looks?
The dark suits?
And the meshed veils,
Covering the women's faces.
'We are celebrating the return to our values.'
This reminds me of a funeral procession!
'You have forgotten traditions once highly esteemed.
Soon we will return to them.
And it will be as if,
You had been awakened from a nightmarish scheme.'
I am sorry.
This is just too much darkness.
'You see! ?
How much discipline you have been missing?
We promised there would be a return.
And here we are.'
What you represent has an absence of fun!
In fact,
What you propose is quite scary.
'What is more important?
Image?
Or the implementation of rules and proper etiquette? '
Ugh.
Ugh!
MOMMY?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Freed From Quantitative Measures
Too many traditions have been enriched,
By proper etiquette.
And what is deemed as political correctness.
An evaluation taking place,
Have many coming face to face...
With what makes them happy.
Some are finding happiness,
Is not being self absorbed with the wishes of others.
And a desire to return to a quality of life,
Freed from quantitative measures...
Pressured by the onslaught,
Of egotistical impressions to make...
For the sake of being accepted,
Has increased in the exchange...
Of what is more valued.
Too many traditions have been enriched,
By proper etiquette.
And what is deemed as political correctness.
These depictions have been subjected to rapid change.
With a simple hug from someone touched,
The only desire sought these days.
And a sincerity felt has become more precious.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Return Trip
I will return to my place of Birth
To that place before Mother Earth
I will return to that Day of Awakening
To that Day of a New Beginning
I will return to my very first Sun
My very first Moon, my very first Star
I will return to that place that never was far
I will return to the land of the Beautiful,
the Good, the Grateful
Where there is nothing to forgive
For there is no sin
Where there is no regret
Life is what you dream
Where Innocence is never put to test
Where all is Sacred and blessed with Happiness
I will return to my place and time of Birth
I will return
I am not Cursed
poem by Sonya Florentino
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Return To Waterloo
Look at all the people around me,
Same old faces joining the queue.
For return to waterloo,
Return to waterloo.
Started off this morning as usual,
Checkin out the mail and all the bills to pay.
Maybe something specials gonna happen,
Maybe this is my lucky day.
The forecast says heavy weather,
So take your umbrella just in case.
Will I get away, will I see it through,
On the return to waterloo.
Return to waterloo.
Return to waterloo.
Somehow you feel that the worlds been passin you by.
Cant help thinkin somehow theyre living a lie.
Now Im asking questions, I never thought Id ask them before,
Like why or how or what am I doing it for?
Will I reach my destination,
Or will I get off along the way?
Will I reach my destination?
Will I reach my destination,
Have I stopped or am I only going slow?
Have we got a couple more stations,
Or is this as far as we all go?
The headlines cry out from the papers,
Inflation, murder, wars, who really wants to know?
If I return to waterloo,
Itll cost me more in 1992.
Will I get away,
Will I see it through?
And come back home to you,
On the return to waterloo.
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Return To Waterloo (Demo Recording / Remix)
Look at all the people around me,
Same old faces joining the queue.
For return to waterloo,
Return to waterloo.
Started off this morning as usual,
Checkin out the mail and all the bills to pay.
Maybe something specials gonna happen,
Maybe this is my lucky day.
The forecast says heavy weather,
So take your umbrella just in case.
Will I get away, will I see it through,
On the return to waterloo.
Return to waterloo.
Return to waterloo.
Somehow you feel that the worlds been passin you by.
Cant help thinkin somehow theyre living a lie.
Now Im asking questions, I never thought Id ask them before,
Like "why" or "how" or "what am I doing it for? "
Will I reach my destination,
Or will I get off along the way?
Will I reach my destination?
Will I reach my destination,
Have I stopped or am I only going slow?
Have we got a couple more stations,
Or is this as far as we all go?
The headlines cry out from the papers,
"inflation," "murder," "wars," who really wants to know?
If I return to waterloo,
Itll cost me more in 1992.
Will I get away,
Will I see it through?
And come back home to you,
On the return to waterloo.
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Return.
For the ones who would return from the hell,
Some unable to talk, others, tales to tell.
Of heroism and loud glories,
Or of sadder muted stories.
Boys return as men,
Men return never the same.
All return with some sort of pain.
27/06/92
poem by Guy Lipmore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The return of the native,
Fully teethed I left you.
Toothless I return to you.
Where from I had come,
There to I want to return
In between, I never came back
Nor did I give you any thought.
Which bird thinks of the nest
When he flies in gay?
In twilight, cows return to shed.
As night falls, I return to you.
In your cradle, I was born,
Only where my roots are known.
On return, I shall dropp to you
What I had earned elsewhere
So that, of me, you are aware
And I can pass away with after care.
24.05.2002, pakd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Before You Go Away
before you go away
please return
everything that i
have given you.
return my kisses
my hugs and embraces
return my blanket
the warmth
i have shared with you
when you were
so cold
on that damp
room. Please return
them immediately
before you go away
please account
all the moments
i have given you
and if you are finished
all these undoing
you may go
rest assured
i am whole again
and love another one
much better than
you: ingrate!
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Beyond The Distant Hills
The sun is shining for me,
beyond the distant hills.
Where my love is waiting,
for my return.
The water is sweet to drink,
beyond the distant hills,
where a warm fire is waiting,
for my return.
The grass bends in the breeze,
beyond the distant hills.
Where my love’s heart yearns
for my return.
A candle lights a window,
beyond the distant hills.
Where someone keeps a watchful eye,
for my return.
Beyond the distant hills,
where no clouds gather,
and no storms darken the sky.
Beyond the distant hills,
bright eyes wait for my return.
Beyond the distant hills,
my dreams will come true,
and I promised myself one day I will get there.
25 April 1988
poem by David Harris
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Solid concrete
rosy cheek against solid concrete
the cold sting of the world beneath me
a rivulet of tears runs with a slope
the peculiar smile of solitary satisfaction
the feelings turn into a numbness
which words cannot describe
the voices in my head have left me
a terrifying fact reveals itself
I am all alone
though the haunting echos will return
and my somber mind will infect
the growing darkness of my soul
their return comforts me
for the voices have become companions
they listen
but they smirk
at the sight of a young woman
laying alone on a solid concrete floor
poem by Danjele Loos
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The Return
We find ourselves going home.
But isn't that where the heart is?
So half of us is not in the return
and that's what is amiss.
We now know just how it feels to be loved
in life's greatest way.
It fills you with a longing
to never have it go away.
Four days out of your life you treasure
and think sadly to yourself
that but for these four short days you've had
your life was an unopened book on a shelf.
You know you most probably will not return
to the family you have found.
But still you hide that in your mind
and look forward to your home ground.
So now you know you can mend all the missing parts
that your life's had.
And that in itself is healing
and helps when you are sad.
Return maybe?
maybe not?
but that's not the important thing.
Only the four days you lived is
what will finally bring
HAPPINESS.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Write by Return
Clerk, corresponding,
“Rooster and Comb”,
Here I sit idle
“Thinking of home”;
I must be grafting—
Living to earn,
More correspondence,
“Write by return.”
Clerk in employ of
“Shoddy and Woods”,
Thinks that we have not
Forwarded goods.
Parcel we sent them—
Missing, I learn,
Says in his postscript:
“Write by return.”
Here is another
Letter from Bland—
“Cheque he expected
Isn’t to hand.”
How we forgot it
Cannot discern,
“Forward remittance,
Write by return.”
Here is another—
O how they come?
Treats of a “Bender”
Planned by a chum.
See on the margin,
Big letters: “Burn
After perusal—
Write by return.”
Mail in from England,
Letters for me—
Dear little sweetheart
Over the sea.
“Quite broken-hearted,
O how I yearn
Only to see you. . . .
Write by return.”
One who will “never
Think that I’m bad”
Writes me a letter
Tearful and sad.
Thinks that I’m starving,
Filled with concern,
Sends me some money—
“Write by return.”
Letter from father,
Sent to his son,
“All is forgiven—
Fat calf for one.”
O that I ever
Thought he was stern—
Money for passage—
Write by return.
poem by Henry Lawson
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The Poems Return
THE POEMS RETURN
The poems return
And with them
I to myself-
Life begins again
I begin to believe
There is hope-
Somehow in some way
Something good will happen-
The poems return
I return
Thank God
I am alive again.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Christmas Day
A young gentleman came riding past,
On a snow blue winters day,
He asked to drink by our fire
And I was pleased to let him stay,
He drank there quietly for a while,
And then he turned and said to me,
Your eyes are green,
Like summer grass,
Your lips are red,
Like a fresh cut rose,
Your hair is soft,
Like an Irish stream,
And your voice,
Is filled with sweet beauty
And the last words I heard him say
Were I shall return,
For you,
My love,
On Christmas Day
And the night will come,
But I won't sleep,
As I watch the stars that lead him,
I cannot place where he is,
But still my heart goes with him,
I'm saving all my Sunday clothes
For the day that I'll be leaving,
Father knows,
My sister knows,
And my friends,
They're happy for me,
And the priest he says,
You should thank God,
For the blessing,
Of such beauty
And the last words
I heard him say,
Were I shall return,
For you,
My love,
On Christmas Day
I shall return,
For you,
My love,
On Christmas Day
(On Christmas Day)
(I shall return for you my love)
And the last words
I heard him say
Were the last words
I ever
Heard him say
I shall return,
For you,
My love
On Christmas Day
I swear,
I will return,
On Christmas Day,
And yes,
I shall return,
On Christmas Day,
I shall return,
For you,
On Christmas Day
My love,
I will return,
On Christmas Day
I shall return,
My love
On Christmas Day
On Christmas Day
song performed by by Dido
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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RETURN TO WONDERLAND...by Talile Ali
RETURN TO WONDERLAND
RETURN TO WONDERLAND
I SHOULD HAVE CHANGED MY PLANS
RETURN TO WONDERLAND
I MET A YOUNG GIRL
AS CUTE AS SHE COULD BE
BRIGHTER THAN A BUTTON
GOT THE BEST OF ME
MAMA WAS A HOE THOUGH
MESSED AROUND A LOT
NEVER KNEW HER REAL DAD
SEX IS ALL SHE GOT
HER MOM LIKED HER PLAYIN'
BABY LEARNED REALLY WELL
BETTER TO DO SOMEONE
THAN LIVE IN THIS HELL
SHE SWORE THAT SHE'D NEVER
SUBMIT HER KIDS TO THIS
SO A BOY FROM THE SUBURBS
GOT TO GRANT THAT WISH
DOESN'T MATTER IF HE LOVED HER
JUST AN ORNAMENT
BOTH WANTED THEIR ITEMS
BEFORE THEIR LIVES WERE SPENT
SO SHE'S OUT GIVEN HEAD NOW
TO ANYONE WHO WILL
SAY A NICE WORD TO HER
SO THEY CAN COP A FEEL
HER BABE'S ARE YOUNG GIRLS NOW
THEY'RE OUT DOIN WHO KNOWS WHO
IF IT'S GOOD ENOUGH FOR MOM THEN
THESE BOY'S WILL HAVE TO DO
I CAN'T SAY THAT I'M HAPPY
THE WAY THAT THINGS TURNED OUT
MY FRIEND IS TRAPPED IN THIS HELL
SEEMS THAT THERE'S NO WAY OUT
IT'S NOT ABOUT THE WHORING
OR SEX TO MAKE A SCORE
IT'S ALL ABOUT EXISTING
LIVING THIS LIFE ON THESE SHORES
SO AS THIS ENDS SO SOFTLY
I HOPE IT HELPS A FEW
TO UNDERSTAND SOME REASONS
WOMEN DO THE THINGS THEY DO
SOMETIMES THERE'S A STORY
WHY SOME WOMEN ARE SO KEEN
ON BEING DRAWN TO SLEAZY
AND TREATED OBSCENE BY MEN
RETURN TO WONDERLAND
RETURN TO WONDERLAND
TIME FOR A CHANGE OF PLANS
RETURN TO WONDERLAND
poem by Talile Ali
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She Touches A Sad String Of Soft Recall
Return, return! all night my lamp is burning,
All night, like it, my wide eyes watch and burn;
Like it, I fade and pale, when day returning
Bears witness that the absent can return,
Return, return.
Like it, I lessen with a lengthening sadness,
Like it, I burn to waste and waste to burn,
Like it, I spend the golden oil of gladness
To feed the sorrowy signal for return,
Return, return.
Like it, like it, whene'er the east wind sings,
I bend and shake; like it, I quake and yearn,
When Hope's late butterflies, with whispering wings,
Fly in out of the dark, to fall and burn-
Burn in the watchfire of return,
Return, return.
Like it, the very flame whereby I pine
Consumes me to its nature. While I mourn
My soul becomes a better soul than mine,
And from its brightening beacon I discern
My starry love go forth from me, and shine
Across the seas a path for thy return,
Return, return.
Return, return! all night I see it burn,
All night it prays like me, and lifts a twin
Of palmèd praying hands that meet and yearn-
Yearn to the impleaded skies for thy return.
Day, like a golden fetter, locks them in,
And wans the light that withers, tho' it burn
As warmly still for thy return;
Still thro' the splendid load uplifts the thin
Pale, paler, palest patience that can learn
Nought but that votive sign for thy return-
That single suppliant sign for thy return,
Return, return.
Return, return! lest haply, love, or e'er
Thou touch the lamp the light have ceased to burn,
And thou, who thro' the window didst discern
The wonted flame, shalt reach the topmost stair
To find no wide eyes watching there,
No withered welcome waiting thy return!
A passing ghost, a smoke-wreath in the air,
The flameless ashes, and the soulless urn,
Warm with the famished fire that lived to burn-
Burn out its lingering life for thy return,
Its last of lingering life for thy return,
Its last of lingering life to light thy late return,
Return, return.
poem by Sydney Thompson Dobell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Return!
RETURN, return! all night my lamp is burning,
All night, like it, my wide eyes watch and burn;
Like it, I fade and pale, when day returning
Bears witness that the absent can return,
Return, return.
Like it, I lessen with a lengthening sadness,
Like it, I burn to waste and waste to burn,
Like it, I spend the golden oil of gladness
To feed the sorrowy signal for return,
Return, return.
Like it, like it, whene'er the east wind sings,
I bend and shake; like it, I quake and yearn,
When Hope's late butterflies, with whispering wings,
Fly in out of the dark, to fall and burn--
Burn in the watchfire of return,
Return, return.
Like it, the very flame whereby I pine
Consumes me to its nature. While I mourn
My soul becomes a better soul than mine,
And from its brightening beacon I discern
My starry love go forth from me, and shine
Across the seas a path for thy return,
Return, return.
Return, return! all night I see it burn,
All night it prays like me, and lifts a twin
Of palmed praying hands that meet and yearn--
Yearn to the impleaded skies for thy return.
Day, like a golden fetter, locks them in,
And wans the light that withers, tho' it burn
As warmly still for thy return;
Still thro' the splendid load uplifts the thin
Pale, paler, palest patience that can learn
Naught but that votive sign for thy return--
That single suppliant sign for thy return,
Return, return.
Return, return! lest haply, love, or e'er
Thou touch the lamp the light have ceased to burn,
And thou, who thro' the window didst discern
The wonted flame, shalt reach the topmost stair
To find no wide eyes watching there,
No wither'd welcome waiting thy return!
A passing ghost, a smoke-wreath in the air,
The flameless ashes, and the soulless urn,
Warm with the famish'd fire that lived to burn--
Burn out its lingering life for thy return,
Its last of lingering life for thy return,
Its last of lingering life to light thy late return,
Return, return.
poem by Sydney Thompson Dobell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Volver, Volver
(f. z. maldonado)
(c) - (f) - (g)
(c) este amor apasionado
Anda todo alborotado por vol (f) ver
Hoy camino a (g) la locura
Y aunque todo me tortura, s que (c) rer
Nos dejamos hace tiempo
Pero lleg el momento de perder
T tenas mucha razn
Le hago caso al corazn
Y me muero por volver
Y volver, volver, volver
A tus brazos otra vez
Llegar hasta donde ests
Yo s perder, yo s perder
Quiero volver, volver, volver
Muchas gracias, thank you!
Translation:
This impassioned love
Goes on, compelling me to return;
Im on the road to madness
And although everything tortures me,
I know how to love.
We parted ways some time ago
But the moment of loss arrived.
You had every reason;
I heed my heart
And Im dying to return.
And to return, to return, to return
To your arms again
I will arrive where you are
I know how to lose, I can take it
I want to return, return, return.
song performed by by Ry Cooder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Return To Blue
(gernot rothenbach/ eric brodka)
Producers for bonnie: harold faltermeyer and gernot rothenbach
I saw your eyes, I felt your passion
And still I cant decide, what to do
I heard you lies, I felt your hunger
Ill have to realise what is true
Im not the one looking out for perfection
I believe in love and I believed in you
But its so hard for me to understand
To keep on loving you, the way you want me to
I return to blue, I dont know what to do
To keep on loving you, I need to know the truth
I return to blue
I just dont want, want to lose
So I make the move, return to blue
It might be hard, sure wont be easy
But its the way it has to be
Too many nights, without you near me
Without the love I need to feel
Im not the one looking out for perfection
I believe in love and I believed in you
But its so hard for me to understand
To keep on loving you, the way you want me to
I return to blue, I dont know what to do
To keep on loving you, I need to know the truth
I return to blue
I just dont want, want to lose
So I make the move, return to blue
I return to blue
Return to blue
Return to blue
Return to blue
Return to blue
I return to blue
song performed by by Bonnie Tyler
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Am Wearied
Return to me like a ghost, a wearied creature like a man
Who was so appalled by youth that he died and became as I can.
Return to me as if you know me from somewhere else,
The place is no secret from where you came, someone else.
Return now, return and frighten me as a good ghost
Frying bacon, working magic on a basis easternmost.
I seek refuge from you, for the returning is so secret,
I can not find a more evil man than you, a man to interpret.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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On Christmas Day
A young gentleman came riding past
On a snow blue winters day
He asked to drink, by our fire,
And I was pleased to let him stay
He drank there quietly for a while,
Then he turned and said to me
Your eyes are green, like summer grass,
Your lips are red like a fresh cut rose,
Your hair is soft like an irish stream
And your voice is filled with sweet beauty
And the last words I heard him say
Were I shall return, for you, my love, on christmas day
The night will come but I wont sleep,
As I watch the stars that lead him,
I cannot place where his is,
But still my heart goes with him,
Im savin all my sunday clothes
For the day the day that Ill be leavin
Father knows, my sister knows,
And my friends, theyre happy for me
And the priest he says, you should thank god,
For the blessing of such beauty,
And the last words I heard him say
Were I shall return for you, my love, on christmas day
I shall return for you, my love, on christmas day.
And the last words I heard him say
Were the last words I ever heard him say
I shall return for you, my love, on christmas day
I swear, I will return on christmas day,
And yes, I shall return on christmas day
I shall return, for you, on christmas day,
My love I will return on christmas day,
I shall return, my love on christmas day
On christmas day...
song performed by by Dido
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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