These Days
We woke early in the mornin'
I brought her coffee in bed.
We worked out then washed each other
I started writin' on the porch
or in front of the fireplace.
She climbed the stairs to her studio
to create her visions of beauty.
We had lunch. We lay down together.
We rose and worked at other things.
We took long walks in the woods.
We worked again on our visions.
We ate supper, talked, read books
sittin' across from each other
on the porch or in front of the fire.
We went to bed. We loved we dreamed.
In winter she dreamed of flowers,
plannin' refinement of the garden.
From late March into October
she spent hours diggin', applyin'
fifty-year-old Hereford manure
from around the barn and pens,
plantin', transplantin', and weedin'.
Year round I dreamed the same dream
That these days would never end
poem by MacGregor Tagliaferro
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Related quotes
I Dreamed.
I dreamed a dream and in that dream,
I dreamed that I had dreamed a dream,
Of hope and fairytales come true,
I dreamed a dream and thought of truth,
I dreamed a dream of life and love,
Of fate and angels and God above,
I dreamed a dream of good wishes and friends,
I dreamed a dream I dreaded to end,
But then I woke into my dream,
I dreamed I woke in a world obscene,
I dreamed a dream of violence and hate,
And once again I dreamed of fate,
I dreamed a dream of terror and fear,
I dreamed that each word went unheard,
And so children never spoke a word,
I dreamed a dream of demons and beasts,
I dreamed a dream that ended at last,
I woke in my bed and wondered if,
I dreamed a dream of dreams or if,
I dreamed a dream of truth that night,
And if so I wondered which was truth,
And which was merely a dream.
poem by Emma Wright
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I dream of
I dreamed of beauty, neither of mountains nor of a setting sun on a summer day.
I dreamed of beauty, neither of running streams nor of a garden of flowers in early may.
I dreamed of beauty, neither of autumn in the fall nor of beautiful winter snow when it falls.
I dreamed of you my beauty, for when I see you my knees grow weak and I shall fall.
6-1-02
poem by Timothy Honeycutt
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The Worried Dream
Written by Peter Green.
Well, I feel so bad - I wonder what's wrong with me
Well, I feel so bad - I wonder what's wrong with me
I think I'll call my baby, find out just what the matter can be
Last night I dreamed about my baby
I woke up and the tears were runnin' all down my face
Now, when I woke up - early this morning
The tears were runnin' all down my face
You know I was dreamin', that some other man was takin' my place
I said, I dreamed about you baby
I dreamed you didn't want me 'round no more
I said, I dreamed about you baby
You know I dreamed you didn't want me round no more
Now, That's the reason I'm callin' you this evening
Baby, tell me, 'cause I've just got to know
break:
I've been worried all day long
I just don't know what to do
I've been worried all day long
You know, I just don't know what to do
You know it may sound silly to you woman
But tell me that dream was not true
song performed by by Fleetwood Mac
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Worried Dream
Written by peter green.
Well, I feel so bad - I wonder whats wrong with me
Well, I feel so bad - I wonder whats wrong with me
I think Ill call my baby, find out just what the matter can be
Last night I dreamed about my baby
I woke up and the tears were runnin all down my face
Now, when I woke up - early this morning
The tears were runnin all down my face
You know I was dreamin, that some other man was takin my place
I said, I dreamed about you baby
I dreamed you didnt want me round no more
I said, I dreamed about you baby
You know I dreamed you didnt want me round no more
Now, thats the reason Im callin you this evening
Baby, tell me, cause Ive just got to know
Break:
Ive been worried all day long
I just dont know what to do
Ive been worried all day long
You know, I just dont know what to do
You know it may sound silly to you woman
But tell me that dream was not true
song performed by by Fleetwood Mac
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Kids
Early mornings late nights
Playing baseball all day
Follow by hide n go seek
We always had fun
We always seem to get into trouble
We were like two peas in a pod
You were the first one I ever kissed
I dreamed it would always be just me and you
I dreamed that you would be my first
Then we started getting older
My friends liked you
I admit I was jealous
Then again I hooked you two up
We started to grow apart
Nothing was ever going to be the same
I didn't have anyone anymore
Then I hardly talked wit you
We finally went are seperate ways
Now after years go by you show up
Right out of the blue
I didn't know what to think
I finally had a boyfriend
So I pushed you away
And you left again
My man and I broke it off
You stoped by
An we both knew what was going to happen
Everything I ever dreamed about you came true
Yet I dont have those feelings I use to have for you
Will it ever be like it use to?
poem by Ashley Olson
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Circle Dream
[ buck/drew/gustafson/augustyniak/merchant ]
[ percussion: paulinho da costa ]
I dreamed of a circle, I dreamed of a circle round.
And in that circle I had made were all the worlds unformed and unborn yet.
A volume, a sphere that was the earth, that was the moon, that did revolve around my room.
I dreamed of a circle, I dreamed of a circle round.
And in that circle was a maze, a terrible spiral to be lost in.
Blind in my fear, I was escaping just by feel.
But at every turn my way was sealed.
I dreamed of a circle, I dreamed of a circle round.
And in that circle was a face.
Her eyes looked upon me with fondness.
Her warmth coming near, calling me sweetness, calling me dear.
But I whispered, no, I cant rest here.
I dreamed of a circle, I dreamed of a circle round.
song performed by by 10000 Maniacs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If I Dreamed
If I dreamed a dream
To top all others
It would include
Peace among brothers
If I dreamed a dream
That would last forever
It would include
Success in each endeavor
If I dreamed a dream
Of unfaltering love
It would include
The sunshine from above
If I dreamed a dream
Of never growing old
It would include
A kind heart of gold
If I dreamed a dream
Of laugher and wit
It would include
Sides that never split
If I dream a dream
Of my choosing
It would include
The hair I am losing
7/21/09
poem by Theresa Ann Moore
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Too Much
i guess i did everything too much...
i ate too much, i drank too much
i fought too much, and too much sex!
i worked too much, i dreamed too much,
played music too much...
walked in the rain too much.
listened to the wind too much,
fell on my face too much,
ran wild too much, too much madness...
left her alone too much,
demanded too much,
wanted too much, talked too much.
loved her too much......
well let me think....if it's
too much or too little?
poem by Eric Cockrell
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The Old Do Not Die As They Dreamed
THE OLD DO NOT DIE AS THEY DREAMED
The old do not die as they dreamed
They do not simply sleep.
They do not the day before
Loved ones surrounding
Clearly speak their loving farewell
To each and everyone.
The old do not die as they dreamed
They die with their minds gone
They die unable to see and to think
They die drugged to partial painlessness
They die in indignity.
They die one big death
After many small dyings
Gone to what they were
And hoped to be.
The old do not die as they dreamed
They die as it is given to them
However sad and degrading that be.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Wild Flowers In A Mason Jar
This song was first released on the some days are diamonds album. it is the only album it has been released on.
January back in '55 we rode a greyhound bus through the georgia midnight
Grandpa was sleeping and the winter sky was clear
We hit a bump and his head jerked back a little and he mumbled something
He woke up smiling but his eyes were bright with tears he said...
I dreamed i was back on the farm
Twenty years have passed boy
But the memory still warms me
Wild flowers in a mason jar
He told me those old stories 'bout that one room cabin in kentucky
The smell of rain and the feel of the warm earth in his hands
He slowly turned and stared outside
His face was mirrored in the window
And his reflection flew across the moonlit land
And he dreamed he was back on the farm
He tilts his head and listens to the early sounds of morning
Wild flowers in a mason jar
An old man and an eight year old boy
Rolling down that midnight highway
Warm kentucky memories from a winter georgia night
I started drifting off and grandpa tucked his coat around me
I think i tried to smile as i slowly closed my eyes
And i dreamed i was with him on the farm
Grandpa, i can hear the evening wind out in the corn
Wild flowers in a mason jar and the bus rolling through the night
Words and music by dennis linde
song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Chatting Today
I worked for the union and on my very first communion, you know,
It never ever, ever, ever worked out right
So I spent the night sleepin on the railway
I worked for the foundry and man my mind it nearly drowned
Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
It never, it could never work out right
So I said so long, amigo. good night and slept on the railway
The railway, theres no better way, ooh the railway
And its nice to talk to you today
I worked for the miller, a very, very nice type of fell-a {fellow}
But I could see that it was never gonna work out right
So I split and spent the night sleeping on the railway
I worked in the subway arc, oh yeah, yeah
You know it never, no no never, no never no, ever no, worked out right
So I said so long and spent the night on the railway
The railway, give me a bottle of whiskey, ooh the railway
Ooh, theres nothin like the railway
And Id like to thank someone for mascara and good things that I done
And for the time ya spent and the friendship begun
And most of all starry nights on the railway
Ooh, I dont know no better way
Than just, ooh, lyin back an drifting away
I can hear it, I can hear it
song performed by by Thin Lizzy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Chatting Today
I worked for the union and on my very first communion, you know,
It never ever, ever, ever worked out right
So I spent the night sleepin on the railway
I worked for the foundry and man my mind it nearly drowned
Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
It never, it could never work out right
So I said so long, amigo. good night and slept on the railway
The railway, theres no better way, ooh the railway
And its nice to talk to you today
I worked for the miller, a very, very nice type of fell-a {fellow}
But I could see that it was never gonna work out right
So I split and spent the night sleeping on the railway
I worked in the subway arc, oh yeah, yeah
You know it never, no no never, no never no, ever no, worked out right
So I said so long and spent the night on the railway
The railway, give me a bottle of whiskey, ooh the railway
Ooh, theres nothin like the railway
And Id like to thank someone for mascara and good things that I done
And for the time ya spent and the friendship begun
And most of all starry nights on the railway
Ooh, I dont know no better way
Than just, ooh, lyin back an drifting away
I can hear it, I can hear it
song performed by by Thin Lizzy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Winter Gone
Winter is closed for another year
Spring has sprung upon us
Was the winter kind to you
I miss winter now its gone laying by the fire
The charcoal wood the flickering of the flames
Now the warmer days are coming
New life is born in spring
New dreams are dreamed
New beginings sad endings
The days will be longer now the cold has left the ground
For three months now we will have spring shower and sunshine
I miss you winter and all your beauty
But you will be back this i am certain
After the spring comes the summer
The scorching heat the rolls of thunder
I love the summer storms the lightning the rain
But i miss you winter and all your beauty
So goodbye my beauty for another year
I will miss you until autumn appears
Coffee
Sometimes life is merely a matter of coffee and whatever intimacy a cup of coffee
affords. I once read something about coffee. The thing said that coffee is good for you;
it stimulates all the organs.
I thought at first this was a strange way to put it, and not altogether pleasant, but
as time goes by I have found out that it makes sense in its own limited way. I'll tell you
what I mean.
Yesterday morning I went over to see a girl. I like her. Whatever we had going for us
is gone now. She does not care for me. I blew it and wish I hadn't.
I rang the door bell and waited on the stairs. I could hear her moving around upstairs.
The way she moved I could tell that she was getting up. I had awakened her.
Then she came down the stairs. I could feel her approach in my stomach. Every step she
took stirred my feelings and lead indirectly to her opening the door. She saw me and it
did not please her.
Once upon a time it pleased her very much, last week. I wonder where it went,
pretending to be naive.
"I feel strange now," she said. "I don't want to talk."
"I want a cup of coffee," I said, because it was the last thing in the world
that I wanted. I said it in such a way that it sounded as if I were reading her a telegram
from somebody else, a person who really wanted a cup of coffee, who cared about nothing
else.
"All right," she said.
I followed her up the stairs. It was ridiculous. She had just put some clothes on. They
had not quite adjusted themselves to her body. I could tell you about her ass. We went
into the kitchen.
She took a jar of instant coffee off the shelf and put it on the table. She placed a
cup next to it, and a spoon. I looked at them. She put a pan full of water on the stove
and turned the gas on under it.
All this time she did not say a word. Her clothes adjusted themselves to her body. I
won't. She left the kitchen.
Then she went down the stairs and outside to see if she had any mail. I didn't remember
seeing any. She came back up the stairs and went into another room. She closed the door
after her. I looked at the pan full of water on the stove.
I knew that it would take a year before the water started to boil. It was now October
and there was too much water in the pan. That was the problem. I threw half of the water
into the sink.
The water would boil faster now. It would take only six months. The house was quiet.
I looked out the back porch. There were sacks of garbage there. I stared at the garbage
and tried to figure out what she had been eating lately by studying the containers and
peelings and stuff. I couldn't tell a thing.
It was now March. The water started to boil. I was pleased by this.
I looked at the table. There was the jar of instant coffee, the empty cup and the spoon
all laid out like a funeral service. These are the things that you need to make a cup of
coffee.
When I left the house ten minutes later, the cup of coffee safely inside me like a
grave, I said, "Thank you for the cup of coffee."
"You're welcome," she said. Her voice came from behind a closed door. Her
voice sounded like another telegram. It was really time for me to leave.
I spent the rest of the day not making coffee. It was a comfort. And evening came, I
had dinner in a restaurant and went to a bar. I had some drinks and talked to some people.
We were bar people and said bar things. None of them remembered, and the bar closed. It
was two o'clock in the morning. I had to go outside. It was foggy and cold in San
Francisco. I wondered about the fog and felt very human and exposed.
I decided to go visit another girl. We had not been friends for over a year. Once we
were very close. I wondered what she was thinking about now.
I went to her house. She didn't have a door bell. That was a small victory. One must
keep track of all the small victories. I do, anyway.
She answered the door. She was holding a robe in front of her. She didn't believe that
she was seeing me. "What do you want?" she said, believing now that she was
seeing me. I walked right into the house.
She turned and closed the door in such a way that I could see her profile. She had not
bothered to wrap the robe completely around herself. She was just holding the robe in
front of herself.
I could see an unbroken line of body running from her head to her feet. It looked kind
of strange. Perhaps because it was so late at night.
"What do you want?" she said.
"I want a cup of coffee," I said. What a funny thing to say, to say again for
a cup of coffee was not what I really wanted.
She looked at me and wheeled slightly on the profile. She was not pleased to see me.
Let the AMA tell us that time heals. I looked at the unbroken line of her body.
"Why don't you have a cup of coffee with me?" I said. "I feel like
talking to you. We haven't talked for a long time."
She looked at me and wheeled slightly on the profile. I stared at the unbroken line of
her body. This was not good.
"It's too late," she said. "I have to get up in the morning. If you want
a cup of coffee, there's instant in the kitchen. I have to go to bed."
The kitchen light was on. I looked down the hall into the kitchen. I didn't feel like
going into the kitchen and having another cup of coffee by myself. I didn't feel like
going to anybody else's house and asking them for a cup of coffee.
I realized that the day had been committed to a very strange pilgrimage, and I had not
planned it that way. At least the jar of instant coffee was not on the table, beside an
empty white cup and a spoon.
They say in the spring a young man's fancy turns to thoughts of love. Perhaps if he has
enough time left over, his fancy can even make room for a cup of coffee.
poem by Richard Brautigan from Revenge of the Lawn (1971)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Devils & Dust
I parked my car on Parsons Lane
Walked a mile to my father's front gate
He sat on the porch out of the rain
It's always too early but never too late
Talked until the stars fell asleep
Little time when the years run fast
Lots of creases in my shirt to keep
Lots of streets full of devils and dust
Called it quits around mid mornin'
Went inside to get somethin' to eat
Pa's asleep on the porch and snorin'
Dreamin' about the sons he wanted to meet
Slump back in my chair and watch the cars roll by
Endless roads and neigbourhoods
Engines in need of oil and fixin'
Devils and dust under the hood
song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Dreamed A Dream
I dreamed a dream
That we were together
And it made me happy.
I dreamed a dream
That it was you and I
And it made me smile.
I dreamed a dream
When I no longer had to dream
And this made me happy.
I dreamed a dream
And it did not change reality.
Everything is the same.
I dreamed a dream
That I no longer dream
And it made me bitterly pleased.
poem by Charlie F. Kane
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Crosses And Troubles
Crosses and troubles a-many have proved me.
One or two women (God bless them) have loved me.
I have worked and dreamed, and I’ve talked at will.
Of art and drink I have had my fill.
I’ve comforted here, and I succoured there.
I’ve faced my foes, and I backed my friends.
I’ve blundered, and sometimes made amends.
I’ve prayed for light, and I’ve known despair.
Now I look before, as I look behind,
Come storm, come shine, whatever befall,
With a grateful heart and a constant mind,
For the end I know is the best of all.
poem by William Ernest Henley
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Only Together at Night
Last night I dreamed
Dreamed on a beach
Last night I dreamed
Of you and me
Last night I dreamed
That we could be
Together
Forever
Last night I dreamed
That you had died
Last night I dreamed
That in my strife
I took my life
Yes, this I dreamed
That we could be
Together
Forever
poem by Gwenevere Cornwell
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Song III: It Grew Up Without Heeding
Love is enough: it grew up without heeding
In the days when ye knew not its name nor its measure,
And its leaflets untrodden by the light feet of pleasure
Had no boast of the blossom, no sign of the seeding,
As the morning and evening passed over its treasure.
And what do ye say then?--That Spring long departed
Has brought forth no child to the softness and showers;
--That we slept and we dreamed through the Summer of flowers;
We dreamed of the Winter, and waking dead-hearted
Found Winter upon us and waste of dull hours.
Nay, Spring was o'er-happy and knew not the reason,
And Summer dreamed sadly, for she thought all was ended
In her fulness of wealth that might not be amended;
But this is the harvest and the garnering season,
And the leaf and the blossom in the ripe fruit are blended.
It sprang without sowing, it grew without heeding,
Ye knew not its name and ye knew not its measure,
Ye noted it not mid your hope and your pleasure;
There was pain in its blossom, despair in its seeding,
But daylong your bosom now nurseth its treasure.
poem by William Morris
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America, My Lover!
i dreamed...
America died,
and woke up to find
all the great cities empty!
so i went back to the hills,
searched beneath trees,
and inside of caves.
beneath the stones
on the riverbanks...
in the deserts, atop the mountains,
till exhausted and spent,
i sat down and closed my eyes.
i dreamed you loved me again,
and woke up to find,
people walking the streets,
and cars passing by.
America, my lover!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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