The Song
That day, in the slipping of torsos and straining flanks
on the bloodied ooze of fields plowed by the iron,
And the smoke bluish near earth and bronze in the sunshine
floating like cotton-down,
And the harsh and terrible screaming,
And that strange vibration at the roots of us…
Desire, fierce, like a song…
And we heard
(Do you remember?)
All the Red Cross bands on Fifth avenue
And bugles in little home towns
And children's harmonicas bleating
America!
And after…
(Do you remember?)
The drollery of the wind on our faces,
And horizons reeling,
And the terror of the plain
Heaving like a gaunt pelvis to the sun…
Under us - threshing and twanging
Torn-up roots of the Song…
poem by Lola Ridge
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Related quotes
That song again
There’s that song again
It follows me like a wraith
Tripping and skipping through my mind
And haunting my day
Hey do you remember when….
We used to dance
There’s that song again
It flows around me like a breeze
Flitting and floating like a butterfly
It colours my day
Hey do you remember when….
We used to sing
There’s that song again
And bittersweet it travels next to me
Slipping and sliding amongst my thoughts
It brightens my day
Hey do you remember when
We used to play
There’s that song again
And it brings you close to me
And I remember when
We used to be
poem by Valerie Lennox
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Pro Rege Nostro
WHAT have I done for you,
England, my England?
What is there I would not do,
England, my own?
With your glorious eyes austere,
As the Lord were walking near,
Whispering terrible things and dear
As the Song on your bugles blown, England --
Round the world on your bugles blown!
Where shall the watchful Sun,
England, my England,
Match the master-work you've done,
England, my own?
When shall he rejoice again
Such a breed of mighty men
As come forward, one to ten,
To the Song on your bugles blown, England --
Down the years on your bugles blown?
Ever the faith endures,
England, my England: --
'Take and break us: we are yours,
England, my own!
Life is good, and joy runs high
Between English earth and sky:
Death is death; but we shall die
To the Song on your bugles blown, England --
To the stars on your bugles blown!'
They call you proud and hard,
England, my England:
You with worlds to watch and ward,
England, my own!
You whose mailed hand keeps the keys
Of such teeming destinies,
You could know nor dread nor ease,
Were the Song on your bugles blown, England --
Round the Pit on your bugles blown!
Mother of Ships whose might,
England, my England,
Is the fierce old Sea's delight,
England, my own,
Chosen daughter of the Lord,
Spouse-in-Chief of the ancient Sword,
There's the menace of the Word
In the Song of your bugles blown, England --
Out of heaven on your bugles blown!
poem by William Ernest Henley
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What Have I Done For You
What have I done for you,
England, my England?
What is there I would not do,
England, my own?
With your glorious eyes austere,
As the Lord were walking near,
Whispering terrible things and dear
As the Song on your bugles blown,
England -
Round the world on your bugles blown!
Where shall the watchful Sun,
England, my England,
Match the master-work you've done,
England, my own?
When shall he rejoice agen
Such a breed of mighty men
As come forward, one to ten,
To the Song on your bugles blown,
England -
Down the years on your bugles blown?
Ever the faith endures,
England, my England:-
'Take and break us: we are yours,
'England, my own!
'Life is good, and joy runs high
'Between English earth and sky:
'Death is death; but we shall die
'To the Song on your bugles blown,
'England -
'To the stars on your bugles blown!
They call you proud and hard,
England, my England:
You with worlds to watch and ward,
England, my own!
You whose mailed hand keeps the keys
Of such teeming destinies
You could know nor dread nor ease
Were the Song on your bugles blown,
England,
Round the Pit on your bugles blown!
Mother of Ships whose might,
England, my England,
Is the fierce old Sea's delight,
England, my own,
Chosen daughter of the Lord,
Spouse-in-Chief of the ancient sword,
There's the menace of the Word
In the Song on your bugles blown,
England -
Out of heaven on your bugles blown!
poem by William Ernest Henley
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England, My England
WHAT have I done for you,
England, my England?
What is there I would not do,
England, my own?
With your glorious eyes austere,
As the Lord were walking near,
Whispering terrible things and dear
As the Song on your bugles blown,
England--
Round the world on your bugles blown!
Where shall the watchful sun,
England, my England,
Match the master-work you've done,
England, my own?
When shall he rejoice agen
Such a breed of mighty men
As come forward, one to ten,
To the Song on your bugles blown,
England--
Down the years on your bugles blown?
Ever the faith endures,
England, my England:--
'Take and break us: we are yours,
England, my own!
Life is good, and joy runs high
Between English earth and sky:
Death is death; but we shall die
To the Song on your bugles blown,
England--
To the stars on your bugles blown!'
They call you proud and hard,
England, my England:
You with worlds to watch and ward,
England, my own!
You whose mail'd hand keeps the keys
Of such teeming destinies,
You could know nor dread nor ease
Were the Song on your bugles blown,
England,
Round the Pit on your bugles blown!
Mother of Ships whose might,
England, my England,
Is the fierce old Sea's delight,
England, my own,
Chosen daughter of the Lord,
Spouse-in-Chief of the ancient Sword,
There 's the menace of the Word
In the Song on your bugles blown,
England--
Out of heaven on your bugles blown!
poem by William Ernest Henley
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Roots
Roots natty roots
Dread binghi dread
I and I are the roots
Some are the dry wood
Fe catch up the fire
Whoa, lo ok at that
They need some dry wood
To cook up the raw food
Whoa, look at that
I got to survive
Inna dis man maniac downpression
Got to survive
In iration, yeah
Roots natty roots
Dread binghi dread
Remember that I and I are the roots
Some are wolf
Inna sheeps clothing
Whoa, look at that
Many are called
But only a few are chosen
Whoa, look at that
Nothing that dividers can do
Cant seperate us from our father
Whoa, look at that
You see, blood is thicker than water
Whoa, look at that
Got to survive
Inna disyah ghetto, yeah
Roots natty roots
Dread binghi dread
Remember that I and I are the roots
Roots natty roots
Dread binghi dread
Whoa, I and I are the roots
Some are leaves
While some are branches
But remember I and I are the roots
Some are dry wood
Fe catch up the fire
Whoa, look at that
Got to survive
Inna dis man maniac downpression
Got to survive
In iration
Roots natty roots
Dread binghi dread
Hey, I and I are the roots
Ooh we, roots natty roots
Dread binghi dread
Oh yeah, I and I are the roots
song performed by by Bob Marley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rehashment
I remember the castigation
I remember the molestation
I remember the infestation
I remember trying to escape from you!
I remember cutting my wrist
I remember releasing the blood
I remember catching the drops
I remember the undulating flood
I remember it wouldn't stop
I remember opression you put me through!
Rehash
The slash
Rehash
The gash
Rehash
The relapse
Rahash
The roots of what I do
This scar is internal
This wound is eternal
The hate is forever
The soul that you severed
I remember getting all the blame
For a person's stigma and shame
I remember when you said 'die'
I remember all the pain in my life
Rehash
The slash
Rehash
The gash
Rehash
The relapse
Rahash
The roots of what I do
I REMEMBER YOU TRYING TO CONSTRUE
poem by Crazy Eight
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Fields Of Gold
There are fields of Gold behind the little house
Filled with the greatest of treasures
Bronze, Gold and Silver
Do you remember?
Remember our childhood, Our life’s
The shinning Silver sparkling in the skies
The brightest Bronze hidden under the ground
The greatest Gold glimmering through the fields
Can you see them?
Picture it in your mind
All the times we danced
Every time we laughed
Where we used to love
Or have you forgotten?
Forgotten the good, Forgotten the bad
Every memory
Every moment
Every word
I wish you’d remember
To turn back time, So you could take me
Take me to the gold
To the fields on a summers day
To our fields, our treasure
The Silver, The Bronze
The Gold
But the treasures gone
The house still remains
The fields just as empty as the day we left
Times have changed
Our life’s have changed
Our Silver gone dull
Our Bronze all rusted
Our Gold long forgotten
It was never there
The winds of time and turns of the earth have seen to that
But I remember
I cry for the children who found the greatest of treasures and those who lost it so soon after
And I dream of dancing and singing and running and laughter, of the treasures that lie in the fields of Gold.
poem by Carrie Halliday
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Roots Bloody Roots
Roots Bloody Roots
Roots Bloody Roots
Roots Bloody Roots
Roots Bloody Roooaaaaaahh
I believe
In Our Fate
We Don't Need To Fake
It's All We Wanna Be
Watch Me Freeeaaak !!
I Say
We're Growing Every Day
Getting Stronger In Every Way
I'll Take You To A Place
Where We Shall Find Our
Roots Bloody Roots
Roots Bloody Roots
Roots Bloody Roots
Roots Bloody Roots
Rain
Bring Me The Strength
Is Breeding Me This Way
To Get To Another Day
And All I Want To See
Set Us Free
Why
Can't You See
Can't You Feel
This Is Real
Ahhh
I Pray
We Don't Need To Change
Our Ways To Be Saved
That All We Wanna Be
Watch Us Freak
song performed by by Sepultura
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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An uncreative medicine
no hope
no friend
no family
no home
no nativity
no nationality
no fame
no name
no future
no points
no market
no identity
no possessions still a tree without roots
no relationship still a tree without roots
no anarchism still a tree without roots
no hiearchy still a tree without roots
no country still a tree without roots
no colours still a tree without roots
no degrees still a tree without roots
no certificates
no imaginations
no dream
no poetry
no fiction
no story
no news
no media
no happiness still a tree without roots
no genre still a tree without roots
no labels still a tree without roots
no names still a tree without roots
THE FOURTH EYE
of
A post-conceptual poet.
Pleasure XXIV
Then a hermit, who visited the city once a year, came forth and said, "Speak to us of Pleasure."
And he answered, saying:
Pleasure is a freedom song,
But it is not freedom.
It is the blossoming of your desires,
But it is not their fruit.
It is a depth calling unto a height,
But it is not the deep nor the high.
It is the caged taking wing,
But it is not space encompassed.
Ay, in very truth, pleasure is a freedom-song.
And I fain would have you sing it with fullness of heart; yet I would not have you lose your hearts in the singing.
Some of your youth seek pleasure as if it were all, and they are judged and rebuked.
I would not judge nor rebuke them. I would have them seek.
For they shall find pleasure, but not her alone:
Seven are her sisters, and the least of them is more beautiful than pleasure.
Have you not heard of the man who was digging in the earth for roots and found a treasure?
And some of your elders remember pleasures with regret like wrongs committed in drunkenness.
But regret is the beclouding of the mind and not its chastisement.
They should remember their pleasures with gratitude, as they would the harvest of a summer.
Yet if it comforts them to regret, let them be comforted.
And there are among you those who are neither young to seek nor old to remember;
And in their fear of seeking and remembering they shun all pleasures, lest they neglect the spirit or offend against it.
But even in their foregoing is their pleasure.
And thus they too find a treasure though they dig for roots with quivering hands.
But tell me, who is he that can offend the spirit?
Shall the nightingale offend the stillness of the night, or the firefly the stars?
And shall your flame or your smoke burden the wind?
Think you the spirit is a still pool which you can trouble with a staff?
Oftentimes in denying yourself pleasure you do but store the desire in the recesses of your being.
Who knows but that which seems omitted today, waits for tomorrow?
Even your body knows its heritage and its rightful need and will not be deceived.
And your body is the harp of your soul,
And it is yours to bring forth sweet music from it or confused sounds.
And now you ask in your heart, "How shall we distinguish that which is good in pleasure from that which is not good?"
Go to your fields and your gardens, and you shall learn that it is the pleasure of the bee to gather honey of the flower,
But it is also the pleasure of the flower to yield its honey to the bee.
For to the bee a flower is a fountain of life,
And to the flower a bee is a messenger of love,
And to both, bee and flower, the giving and the receiving of pleasure is a need and an ecstasy.
People of Orphalese, be in your pleasures like the flowers and the bees.
poem by Khalil Gibran
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Cotton Fields
When i was a little bitty baby
My mama done rock me in the cradle
In them old cotton fields back home
It was back in louisiana
Just about a mile from texarkana
In them old cotton fields back home
Let me tell you now well got me in a fix
I caught a nail in my tire doing lickitey splits
I had to walk a long long way to town
Came upon a nice old man well he had a hat on
Wait a minute mister can you give me some directions
I gonna want to be right off for home
Don't care if them cotton balls get rotten
When i got you baby, who needs cotton
In them old cotton fields back home
Brother only one thing more that's gonna warm you
A summer's day out in california
It's gonna be those cotton fields back home
It was back in louisiana
Just about a mile from texarkana
Give me them cotton fields
(it was back in louisiana)
Let me hear it for the cotton fields
(just about a mile from texarkana)
You know that there's just no place like home
Well boy it sure feels good to breathe the air back home
You shoulda seen their faces when they seen how i grown
In them old cotton fields back home
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Remember
I remember you
do you remember me?
I remember the song
I remember the movie
I remember the rain
I remember the rainbow
do you remember them?
I remember the words
I remember the fragrance
I remember the touch
I remember the taste
do you remember them?
I remember you
.....do you remember me?
poem by Marites C. Cayetano
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Discovery Day
I remember then with the same power
Feeling out of breath just like now
Heart beating like I just ran a mile
Feeling like the luckiest girl alive
I remember not knowing whether to laugh or cry
And not really understanding why
I remember feeling it must be a dream
Everything just too beautiful to be real
I remember my head reeling, ears ringing
Heart heaving, stomach turning
I remember thinking this can't go on
Or my heart would burst like the sun
I remember then like it was now
I remember then to the very hour
And yes it hasn't lost its power
The day I was touched
And burned
The day when
Happiness returned
That strange day
I fell in love
© 2009 Sonya Florentino
poem by Sonya Florentino
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Multiple Choice: Australia
The huge roots of the Daintree tree are known as:
1) fortress roots
2) buttress roots
3) art deco roots
4) neo-gothic roots
5) time-to-rinse roots
poem by Morgan Michaels
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Remember When I Gave You That Rose?
Remember
Those times of yesteryear?
Remember
That night I held you near?
Remember
How we were so close?
Remember
That song we always chose?
Remember
The way we shared our mind?
Remember
How we were one of a kind?
Remember
Those words you spoke to me?
Remember
How clearly we would often see?
Remember
Your beauty and escentric pose?
remember
When I gave you that rose?
poem by White Tiger
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I Remember
Writer Dolly Parton
Copyright 1973
I remember I remember I remember mama and daddy most of all
I remember meadows and fields of golden wheat
I remember songbirds and sugar cane so sweet
I remember lots of things that often I recall
But I remember mama and daddy most of all
I remember gingerbread my mama used to bake
And I remember home made toys that daddy used to make
Yes I remember many things that often I recall
But I remember mama and daddy most of all
I remember mama and daddy most of all
And our little country home they filled with love
I remember mama and daddy most of all
And all the things they did to make life happier for us
Yes I remember lots of things that often I recall
But I remember mama and daddy most of all
I remember candy that daddy used to bring I remember songs my mama used to sing
Oh I remember many things that often I recall
But I remember mama and daddy most of all
I remember mama and daddy most of all
And how they taught us children right from wrong
I remember mama and daddy most of all
How they used to hope and pray they'd live to see us grown
Oh I remember many things that often I recall
But I remember mama and daddy most of all
I remember I remember I remember mama and daddy most of all most of all
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Regeneration
Why it should happen
the parting of ways?
Between the will to arrive
and the goal?
Between the unlearning and contempt,
lies a tale.
Terror. Petrifying fear ……….,
doggedly I was defending the door.
Inspite of the terrible blows
I wanted to be myself only.
Reverse, the wheels were turning
aghast I was turning blue.
God! They were creating him new.
As I remember now
they were melting the rocks to make a new face.
I have swallowed the flame, like pride.
melting the iron in eyes.
I shall soon become a tree
with unborn flowers.
Some sorrow, some tears
will drench my roots.
poem by Satish Verma
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The Last Song
This is the last song
The very last song tonight
And the song is blue
This is the last song
Yeah, the last song, hold me tight
Though I shouldnt be with you
This is the last time
The very last time Ill see you
Hold me close and dont you cry
This is the last song
The very last song tonight
And this song means goodbye
I wont forget the melody
That takes your love away from me
But I guess what will be will be
And tonight, in your arms
Is like heaven to me
But I belong to someone else
And shes waiting, waiting
Waiting for me
Goodbye, goodbye
And remember, remember me
And this song will be our song
And this song will be our song
And the last song for me
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Remember The Boy
(jose mari chan)
Today I heard them play the song again
An old familiar strain from way back when
Every note and every line
Its always been a favorite song of mine
It used to haunt me so some years ago
Reminds me of a boy I used to know
And although the melody lives on
The memories and the boy are all but gone
And while the song still brings that certain glow
And the words still sing of love I know
It isnt quite the way it was before
I remember the boy
But I dont remember the feeling anymore
The promises we made seemed easier then
As if we knew our love would never end
But seasons change and time erases the tears
As quickly as the rivers disappear
So while the song still brings that certain glow
And the words still sing of love I know
It isnt quite the way it was before
I remember the boy
But I dont remember the feeling
I remember the boy
But I dont remember the feeling anymore
song performed by by Lea Salonga
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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So Much For The Afterglow
this is a song about susan
this is a song about the girl next door
this is a song about the everyday occurrences
that make me feel like letting go
yes i think we got a problem
so much for the afterglow
this is a song about susan
this is a song about the way things are
this is a song about the scary things
you see from the corner of your eyes
don't you wonder why?
we never talk about the future
we never talk about the past anymore
we never ask ourselves the questions
to the answers that nobody
even wants to know
i guess the honeymoon is over
so much for the afterglow
i remember we could talk about anything
i remember when we used to want to hangout
i remember we could talk about anything
i remember when we used to want to hangout
i remember we could talk about anything
i remember when we used to want to hangout
i remember when we used to want to hangout
i remember we could talk about anything
i remember i remember i remember
we never talk about the future
we never talk about the past anymore
we never ask ourselves the questions
to the answers that nobody needs to know
oh well oh well oh well
so much for the afterglow
oh well oh well oh well
so much for the afterglow
oh well oh well oh well oh well
yes i guess we need the drama
(so much for the afterglow)
song performed by by Everclear
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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