En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Sunday Chimes in the City

Across the bridge, where in the morning blow
The wrinkled tide turns homeward, and is fain
Homeward to drag the balck sea-goer's chain,
And the long yards by Dowgate dipping low;
Across dispeopled ways, patient and slow,
Saint Magnus and Saint Dunstan call in vain:
>From Wren's forgotten belfries, in the rain,
Down the blank wharves the dropping octaves go.

Forbid not these! Tho' no man heed, they shower
A subtle beauty on the empty hour,
>From all their dark throats aching and outblown;
Aye in the prayerless places welcome most,
Like the last gull that up a naked coast
Deploys her white and steady wing, alone.

poem by Louise Imogen Guiney
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Homeward Bound

I want to sit at home in my rockin chair
I dont want to travel the world
As far as Im concerned Ive had my share
But times more precious than gold
I dont wanna see another airplane seat
Or another hotel room
The home life to me seems really neat
I just wanna unpack for good
Buy me a ticket homeward bound (homeward bound)
Buy me a ticket homeward bound (oh homeward bound
Well it all seems the same when youve done it before
Theres no difference in the style
Theres no end insight or my own front door
Ill be a stay at home for awhile
So Ill have another drink and a cigarette
Just to console myself some how
Its not too bad if you can forget
Ive just got to find a way somehow
Buy me a ticket homeward bound (homeward bound)
Buy me a ticket homeward bound (oh homeward bound
Buy me a ticket homeward bound (homeward bound)

song performed by by Fleetwood Mac
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Far From My Heavenly Home

Far from my heavenly home,
Far from my Father’s breast,
Fainting I cry, blest Spirit, come
And speed me to my rest.

My spirit homeward turns
And fain would thither flee;
My heart, O Zion, droops and yearns,
When I remember thee.

To thee, to thee I press,
A dark and toilsome road;
When shall I pass the wilderness,
And reach the saint’s abode?

God of my life, be near;
On Thee my hopes I cast:
O guide me through the desert here,
And bring me home at last.

poem by Henry Francis Lyte
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Leap Of Faith

He opened the door and walked away,
Sometimes a selfless step is all it takes,
From the mountain, he can watch it all burn,
Welcome friend, to the point of no return
Once in a life, you can find a time to see,
And you get to turn it down, turn around, temporary sanity
And then the mountain disappears without a trace,
All it took, was a sudden leap of faith
(homeward, let your spirit rise, )
Darling, Im waiting for you
(homeward, one step at a time)
(homeward, watch it like a child)
When will I reach the ocean
(Im filled with mixed emotion)
(Ill wait for you)
(Ill wait for you)
Im waiting for you baby
(Ill wait for you)
(Ill wait for you)
How and why?
And the bough broke back to sea(? )
He was overcome, by how it happened all so easily,
And as he stood there, with the moonlight on his face,
He was stunned by a sudden leap of faith.
Darling, Im waiting for you
(homeward, one step at a time)
(homeward, watch it like a child)
When will I reach the ocean,
Moving in slow motion now
(you know its the truth)
(youve done all a man can do)
{long instrumental, scat break}
Homeward, let your spirit rise,
Homeward, one step at a time,
Homeward, watch it like a child,
Homeward, let your spirit rise,
Homeward, one step at a time,
Homeward, watch it like a child,
Homeward
(fade)

song performed by by Kenny Loggins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sudden Shower

Black grows the southern sky, betokening rain,
And humming hive-bees homeward hurry bye:
They feel the change; so let us shun the grain,
And take the broad road while our feet are dry.
Ay, there some dropples moistened on my face,
And pattered on my hat--tis coming nigh!
Let's look about, and find a sheltering place.
The little things around, like you and I,
Are hurrying through the grass to shun the shower.
Here stoops an ash-tree--hark! the wind gets high,
But never mind; this ivy, for an hour,
Rain as it may, will keep us dryly here:
That little wren knows well his sheltering bower,
Nor leaves his dry house though we come so near.

poem by John Clare
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When Somebody Turns You On

Can you hear me? am I loud enough?
Could you see it coming like an avalanche?
I only felt the need
When somebody turns you on
It's like a light in the dark goes on
It's like you've waited for rain, you waited so
Long
When somebody turns you on.
Were you waiting when you took my hand?
Were you aching with me? did you understand?
I only felt the heat
When somebody turns you on
It's like a light in the dark goes on
It's like you've waited for rain, you waited so
Long
When somebody turns you on.
Now I know this is real
I know 'cause I know 'cause I feel
Your eyes go straight to my soul
And I know this is good
It goes deep like I know it should
We've just got to let love grow
When somebody turns you on
It's like a light in the dark goes on
It's like you've waited for rain, you waited so
Long
When somebody turns you on.

song performed by by Heather Nova
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When Somebody Turn You On

Can you hear me? am I loud enough?
Could you see it coming like an avalanche?
I only felt the need
When somebody turns you on
Its like a light in the dark goes on
Its like youve waited for rain, you waited so
Long
When somebody turns you on.
Were you waiting when you took my hand?
Were you aching with me? did you understand?
I only felt the heat
When somebody turns you on
Its like a light in the dark goes on
Its like youve waited for rain, you waited so
Long
When somebody turns you on.
Now I know this is real
I know cause I know cause I feel
Your eyes go straight to my soul
And I know this is good
It goes deep like I know it should
Weve just got to let love grow
When somebody turns you on
Its like a light in the dark goes on
Its like youve waited for rain, you waited so
Long
When somebody turns you on.

song performed by by Heather Nova
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lydia

Break forth, break forth, O Sudbury town,
And bid your yards be gay
Up all your gusty streets and down,
For Lydia comes to-day!

I hear it on the wharves below;
And if I buy or sell,
The good folk as they churchward go
Have only this to tell.

My mother, just for love of her,
Unlocks her carvëd drawers;
And springs of withered lavender
Drop down upon the floors.

For Lydia’s bed must have the sheet
Spun out of linen sheer,
And Lydia’s room be passing sweet
With odors of last year.

The violet flags are out once more
In lanes salt with the sea;
The thorn-bush at Saint Martin’s door
Grows white for such as she.

So, Sudbury, bid your gardens blow,
For Lydia comes to-day;
Of all the words that I do know,
I have but this to say.

poem by Lizette Woodworth Reese
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Saint Dominics Preview

Shammy [chamois] cleaning all the windows,
Singing songs about edith piafs soul.
And I hear blue strains of no regredior
Across the street from cathedral notre dame.
Meanwhile back in san francisco
Were trying hard to make this whole thing blend,
As we sit upon this jagged
Storey block, with you my friend.
And its a long way to buffalo.
Its a long way to belfast city too.
And Im hoping the choice wont blow the hoist
cos this town, they bit off more than they can chew.
As we gaze out on, as we gaze out on
As we gaze out on, as we gaze out on
Saint dominics preview
Saint dominics preview
Saint dominics preview
All the orange boxes are scattered.
We get to safeways supermarket in the rain.
And everybody feels so determined
Not to feel anyone elses pain.
(you know that) no ones making no commitments
To anybody but themselves,
Hidin behind closed doorways,
Tryin to get outside, outside of empty shells
And for every cross-cuttin country corner,
For every hank williams railroad train that cried,
And all the chains, badges, flags and emblems
And every strain on every brain and every eye (? )
As we gaze out on, as we gaze out on
As we gaze out on, as we gaze out on
Saint dominics preview
Saint dominics preview
Saint dominics preview.
And the restaurant tables are completely covered.
The record company has paid out for the wine.
You got everything in the world you ever wanted
Right about now your face should wear a smile.
Thats the way it all should happen
When youre in, when youre in the state youre in;
Youve got your pen and notebook ready,
I think its about time, time for us to begin.
And were over in a 52nd street apartment,
Socializing with the whino few,
Just to be hip and get wet with the jet set.
But theyre flying too high to see my point of view.
As we gaze out on, as we gaze out on
As we gaze out on, as we gaze out on
Saint dominics preview
Saint dominics preview
Saint dominics preview.
See them freedom marching,
Out on the street, freedom marching.
Saint dominics preview.

song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Little Saint Nick

Oooooooo
Merry christmas saint nick
Christmas comes this time each year
Oooooooo oooooooo
Well, way up north where the air gets cold
Theres a tale about christmas that youve all been told
And a real famous cat all dressed up in red
And he spends the whole year workin out on his sled
Its the little saint nick
Ooooo, little saint nick
Its the little saint nick
Ooooo, little saint nick
Just a little bobsled we call it old saint nick
But shell walk a toboggan with a four speed stick
Shes candy-apple red with a ski for a wheel
And when santa hits the gas, man, just watch her peel
Its the little saint nick
Ooooo, little saint nick
Its the little saint nick
Ooooo, little saint nick
Run run reindeer
Run run reindeer
Whoaa
Run run reindeer
Run run reindeer
He dont miss no one
And haulin through the snow at a frightenin speed
With a half a dozen deer with rudy to lead
Hes gotta wear his goggles cause the snow really flies
And hes cruisin every pad with a little surprise
Its the little saint nick
Ooooo, little saint nick
Its the little saint nick
Ooooo, little saint nick
Ahhhhhh
Oooooooo
Merry christmas saint nick
Christmas comes this time each year
Ahhhhhh
Oooooooo
Merry christmas saint nick
Christmas comes this time each year
Ahhhhhh
Oooooooo
Merry christmas saint nick
Christmas comes this time each year

song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Eventide

The day is past and the toilers cease;
The land grows dim 'mid the shadows grey,
And hearts are glad, for the dark brings peace
At the close of day.

Each weary toiler, with lingering pace,
As he homeward turns, with the long day done,
Looks out to the west, with the light on his face
Of the setting sun.

Yet some see not (with their sin-dimmed eyes)
The promise of rest in the fading light;
But the clouds loom dark in the angry skies
At the fall of night.

And some see only a golden sky
Where the elms their welcoming arms stretch wide
To the calling rooks, as they homeward fly
At the eventide.

It speaks of peace that comes after strife,
Of the rest He sends to the hearts He tried,
Of the calm that follows the stormiest life --
God's eventide.

poem by John McCrae
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Magdalena

Writers: danny okeefe
Magdalena sits in her chair
Speaking on the mass
She talks in splice and splinters
She laughs not breaking glass
She said that she would have me
Spirit her away
Stealing all my images
Till theres nothin left to say
Oh, magdalena
Nothing like the saint you are
Your love is like a razor
My heart is just a scar
Oh, magdalena
Nothing like the saint you are
She tells me that she wants me
Then she tells me not to bother
She tells me that I couldnt hold
A candle to her father
She knows that shes got me
When I start to rave about
Shell justsmile and flash her eyes
And blow the candle out
Oh, magdalena
Oh, ho, ho, magdalena
Nothing like the saint you are
Magdalena lying there
Could make a dancer stumble
Make a preacher bite his tongue
And leave him with a mumble
And if you think Im crazy babe
Or that Im kiddin you
Just pay your dues and lose your blues
When she gets her tongue in you
Oh, magdalena
Nothing like the saint you are
Your love is like a razor
My heart is just a scar
Oh, magdalena
Nothing like the saint you are
Well, I cant be forgotten
And I cant be ignored
You find me with my poems
And my songs
But if upon your journey youre turning to l.a.
Wont you take this little red-haired girl aong?
Oh, magdalena
Nothing like the saint you are
Your love is like a razor
My heart is just a scar
Oh, magdalena
Nothing like the saint you are

song performed by by Leo Sayer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To A Teacher/Poet Named Fred

i know Fred
and i remember him
he always wrote
about the rain

there was no flood in
his rain
i mean
there is no rage or anger
in him

just the gentle
shower of rain
a soft spoken kind
of rain

a patient shower
caressing fine sands
on many dark nights
when he was always alone

watching those stars
those silent stars
he loved loneliness
and loneliness loved him

he did not live
that long
he died
at forty

the rain remembered him
and in his grave
that day when he was buried
the rain, as gentle as

the early morning wind
fine feathers cotton soft
sings the last
hymn for him

it was sad & it was lonely
the flowers and
the butterflies all sighed

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Wren

World
Do not give me anything.
I would lose it.
Or abuse it
Or something.
Don't get too close to me.
When only the wren can sing my pain
So sweetly.
Don't try to break my chain.
Love left me bound and gagged
In the rain.
All passion drying
In the vein.
Only the wren
Can set me free.
Warbling so sweetly.
Please do not kiss me.
And say you care.
My emotional repair
Is beyond any sweet embrace.
Touch the scars upon my face
From burning tears.
Only the wren
Can quell my fears.
For just one minute
In early morning,
I am healed.
When that unwritten love song
Is revealed.
Please,
Do not ask me
Why or where or when.
Just let me fly away
With jenny wren.

poem by Kevin East
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Homeward Bound

I'm sitting in the railway station. Got a ticket to my destination. mmmm
On a tour of one-night stands, my suitcase and guitar in hand.
And every stop is neatly planned for a poet and one-man band.
Homeward bound, I wish I was, Homeward bound,
Home where my thought's escaping, Home where my music's playing,
Home where my love lies waiting, Silently for me.
Every day's an endless stream, of cigarettes and magazines. mmmm
And each town looks the same to me, the movies and the factories
And every stranger's face I see reminds me that I long to be,
Homeward bound, I wish I was, Homeward bound,
Home where my thought's escaping, Home where my music's playing,
Home where my love lies waiting, Silently for me.
Tonight I'll sing my songs again, I'll play the game and pretend. mmmm
But all my words come back to me in shades of mediocrity
Like emptiness in harmony I need someone to comfort me.
Homeward bound, I wish I was, Homeward bound,
Home where my thought's escaping, Home where my music's playing,
Home where my love lies waiting, Silently for me, Silently for me.

song performed by by Simon & Garfunkel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Homeward Bound

Im sitting in the railway station.
Got a ticket to my destination.
On a tour of one-night stands my suitcase and guitar in hand.
And evry stop is neatly planned for a poet and a one-man band.
Homeward bound,
I wish I was,
Homeward bound,
Home where my thoughts escaping,
Home where my musics playing,
Home where my love lies waiting
Silently for me.
Evry days an endless stream
Of cigarettes and magazines.
And each town looks the same to me, the movies and the factories
And evry strangers face I see reminds me that I long to be,
Homeward bound,
I wish I was,
Homeward bound,
Home where my thoughts escaping,
Home where my musics playing,
Home where my love lies waiting
Silently for me.
Tonight Ill sing my songs again,
Ill play the game and pretend.
But all my words come back to me in shades of mediocrity
Like emptiness in harmony I need someone to comfort me.
Homeward bound,
I wish I was,
Homeward bound,
Home where my thoughts escaping,
Home where my musics playing,
Home where my love lies waiting
Silently for me.
Silently for me.

song performed by by Paul Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Psalm 49

The rich sinner's death, and the saint's resurrection.

Why do the proud insult the poor,
And boast the large estates they have?
How vain are riches to secure
Their haughty owners from the grave!

They can't redeem one hour from death,
With all the wealth in which they trust;
Nor give a dying brother breath,
When God commands him down to dust.

There the dark earth and dismal shade
Shall clasp their naked bodies round;
That flesh, so delicately fed,
Lies cold and moulders in the ground.

Like thoughtless sheep the sinner dies,
Laid in the grave for worms to eat:
The saints shall in the morning rise,
And find th' oppressor at their feet.

His honors perish in the dust,
And pomp and beauty, birth and blood:
That glorious day exalts the just
To full dominion o'er the proud.

My Savior shall my life restore,
And raise me from my dark abode;
My flesh and soul shall part no more,
But dwell for ever near my God.

poem by Isaac Watts
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Flower-De-Luce: The Bells Of Lynn. Heard At Nahant

O curfew of the setting sun! O Bells of Lynn!
O requiem of the dying day! O Bells of Lynn!

From the dark belfries of yon cloud-cathedral wafted,
Your sounds aerial seem to float, O Bells of Lynn!

Borne on the evening wind across the crimson twilight,
O'er land and sea they rise and fall, O Bells of Lynn!

The fisherman in his boat, far out beyond the headland,
Listens, and leisurely rows ashore, O Bells of Lynn!

Over the shining sands the wandering cattle homeward
Follow each other at your call, O Bells of Lynn!

The distant lighthouse hears, and with his flaming signal
Answers you, passing the watchword on, O Bells of Lynn!

And down the darkening coast run the tumultuous surges,
And clap their hands, and shout to you, O Bells of Lynn!

Till from the shuddering sea, with your wild incantations,
Ye summon up the spectral moon, O Bells of Lynn!

And startled at the sight like the weird woman of Endor,
Ye cry aloud, and then are still, O Bells of Lynn!

poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Prayer to St. Francis

'The eyes of the saint make all beauty holy and the hands of the saint consecrate everything they touch.' Thomas Merton

Look at me, O Saint,
sagging skin,
thinning hair, face
lined with roads
too far traveled.

Can you see
in me God's
beauty?

Then touch me!

O take into
your holy palms
my living heart.
Fill me with desire!

Make of me
a holy psalm,
consecrated host,
eternal fire.

poem by Steven Federle
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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No Chain At All

Most women want to chain you to promises and such
They take a little freedom each time they let ya touch
She didnt try to chain me thats why I turned around
She let me taste my freedom and now Im homeward bound
You know Im headin on back to her Im hearing her call
The strongest chain in the world is no chain at all at all
Thats why Im headin on back to her she wont let me crawl
The strongest chain in the world is no chain at all.
At least one pretty woman in every sleepy town
Would bargain with her lovin and try to tie me down
I took what I was offered like most men probably would
But teasin in my memory was something twice as good
You know Im headin on back to her Im hearing her call
The strongest chain in the world is no chain at all at all
Thats why Im headin on back to her she wont let me crawl
The strongest chain in the world is no chain at all at all
Thats why Im headin on back to her,
Headin on back to her,
Headin on back to her, lovin my baby,
Headin on back to her

song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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0109 Upon the Feast of Saint Valentine

roses are red
(well, some are white) :
Saint Valentine says
he needs poets to write...

roses are red
(well, some are pink) :
Saint Valentine says
he needs hearts expressed in ink..

poems are read;
that's the good news here;
Saint Valentine's day
could last all year...

poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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