Variation On The Word Sleep
I would like to watch you sleeping,
which may not happen.
I would like to watch you,
sleeping. I would like to sleep
with you, to enter
your sleep as its smooth dark wave
slides over my head
and walk with you through that lucent
wavering forest of bluegreen leaves
with its watery sun & three moons
towards the cave where you must descend,
towards your worst fear
I would like to give you the silver
branch, the small white flower, the one
word that will protect you
from the grief at the center
of your dream, from the grief
at the center I would like to follow
you up the long stairway
again & become
the boat that would row you back
carefully, a flame
in two cupped hands
to where your body lies
beside me, and as you enter
it as easily as breathing in
I would like to be the air
that inhabits you for a moment
only. I would like to be that unnoticed
& that necessary.
poem by Margaret Atwood
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I Watch You Sleeping
This song appears on three albums, and was first released on the flower that shattered the stone album, and has also been released on the stonehaven sunrise and the john denver collection - take
Ome, country roads albums.
I watch you sleeping little angel face
And on behalf of the human race
Welcome to this crazy place
I watch you sleeping innocent and free
I dont know what your dreams may be
You dont know what you mean to me
You have never heard thunder
You have never seen the rain
But you can still feel the wonder
You can still feel the pain
And sometimes you look at me
So wise and so sure
I could easily believe you have been here before
I watch you sleeping little angel face
And on behalf of the human race
Welcome to this crazy place
I wont be here forever
But as long as Im around
I promise you I will never let you down
To help make a world you can feel worthy of
I will teach you to fly on the wings of my love
I watch you sleeping brave and unaware
You dont know yet so you dont care
I want you to know its hard out there
I watch you sleeping little angel face
And on behalf of the human race
Welcome to this crazy place
I watch you sleeping
I watch you sleeping
I watch you sleeping
I watch you sleeping
I watch you sleeping
I watch you sleeping
Words and music by mike batt
song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wild Forest Flower
Rough around the edges but a tender center
This is my wild forest flower
Short and slender with long flowing blonde hair
This is my wild forest flower
A loving heart that goes beyond what I can see
This is my wild forest flower
I want to hold my flower in my hands
Wondering why she holds back and refuses to stand
I water it every now and then to watch it grow
But it takes too long because it’s a little slow
So I wait patiently for the flower to begin to rise
Even though I can still hear the weeping willows cries
Firm and hard headed but with a loving touch
This is my wild forest flower
Always hiding and always scared like a little child
This is my wild forest flower
The only one im willing to be with anymore
This is my wild forest flower
A darkened hush rises in the sky above my flower
The roots slowly exposing themselves out of fear
A forest fire begins in the distance soon to consume it
The fire rages ready to consume the small thing in power
This little bitty flower that I love and hold so dear
but I laugh because I know how this fire got lit
poem by Branden Aeling
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Every Morning's Mourning.
Watch you sleep
Dream and roll over
avoid the monsters
and the light
Watch you sleep
Watch you sleep
when the noise
of fifteen
floors above you
crashes in
and wraps you deeper
in your sheets
Watch you sleep
Watch you sleep
through every squeak
and smash and ping
as I serenade you
with my awake
and my breakfast
Watch you sleep
Watch you sleep
with a half-turned
smile on your face
an exposed and naked leg
your hair escaping you
like spilling starlight
Watch you sleep
Watch you sleep
when I kiss
the tiniest sample
of skin on your cheek
and know you wake
when I'm gone
and am gone
until again you sleep
When you wake
Watch you wake
Watch you sleep
poem by Q.R. Gibson
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Sleeping To Dream (Live @ Java Joes - 06.27.02)
words by jason mraz
music by jason mraz & peter stuart
I'm dreaming of sleeping next to you I'm feeling like a lost little boy in a brand new town
I'm counting my sheep and each one that passes is another dream to ashes
and they all fall down.
As I lay me down tonight,
I close my eyes and what a beautiful sight
I'm sleeping to dream about you
I'm so tired of having to live without you
So I'm sleeping to dream about you and I'm so tired
I found myself in the riches (Your eyes, your lips, your hair.) Well you were everywhere
But I woke up in the ditches. I hit the light and I thought you might be here
but you were nowhere. You were nowhere at home.
As I lay me back to sleep
Lord I pray that I can keep
Sleeping to dream about you
I'm so tired of having to live without you
So I'm sleeping to dream about you and I'm so tired
(It's just a little a lullaby to keep myself from crying myself to sleep at night.)
Sleeping to dream about you
I'm so tired of having to live without you
So I'm sleeping to dream about you and I'm so tired
song performed by by Jason Mraz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Word Reaches Us
Word reaches us
that you are sleeping, sleeping.
Dismayed
we have turned to the sea.
We encounter among others
walking there
a sense of what we have lost:
the broad expanse of humanity’s
sensitivity to the oneness of itself.
Gabrielle,
while you sleep, resting your nimble
brain, we think of walking with you
in the valley
of the shadow of death; holding
you up.
We hope you can feel our grief;
our sorrow vast
like the ocean that draws us.
We know in this moment you teach us many things:
how all across the world
there is no one who deserves this fate.
We know we must bleach and sterilize our
tongues,
brighten with understanding
all our dark thoughts.
Sister, whom I never met
except in this pain that has so
wounded you
thank you for reminding us
through your suffering
and your suspenseful sleep
that we must change.
poem by Alice Walker
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Swoon
I cannot sleep
When my mind is running
Faster than my will to sleep
And I'm far too busy weeping
To find solace in simply sleeping
I cannot sleep
When fears of the future
And tears of the past
Burden my head
And I'm far too busy weeping
To find solace in simply sleeping
I cannot sleep
When hope for the future
And letting go of the past
Is more exciting than a dream
In calm repose
Only darkness flows
I cannot sleep
When nightmares
Instill shock and horror in me
And I'm far too busy weeping
To find solace in simply sleeping
Staring so long at the silver moon
Insomnia loses and I simply swoon
poem by Dyhanara Rios
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Sleep Forever
Down I lie
Sleeping all day
Still asleep for years
Surrounded by tears
Of friends, relations and further
But still sleep, sleep and sleep forever.
My eyes all closed extremely shut
My body is dry, straight and flat
As I lie in wooden house
Helpless like a dead mouse
Alone with no any other
As I sleep, sleep and sleep forever.
In my best black suit
My voice on mute
Waiting for the judgement
In a new environment
Coping with underground weather
As I sleep, sleep and sleep forever.
I've left all my worth
And ignored all my breath
Tell that I slept to each and every head
For that's a polite word to me as the dead
To come back I'll never
It's a sleep, sleep and sleep forever.
poem by Walani Ndhlovu
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Strange Relationship
Death has been my partner,
my best friend.
Every day the fear,
greets me in my bed,
and body starts dying.
I join the play.
The sun clips the clouds,
my lungs fills with aroma.
A golden bird starts singing
on the swaying leaves of palm.
Death smears me with ideas,
larger than pain
before and after it was foggy.
I sleep, half-opened eyes,
watching over with face
to the window.
Life moves from grief to grief.
A tiny seed pulsates
in the crevice of mind,
I love a view like that.
One hundred moons
and a dying sun.
An immence contrast.
Whom shall I choose as a prologue?
I cannot tread the center
of unborn story. The clouds
are always crimson before
the night. Life has
a shadow of death – and a strange
relationship survives.
poem by Satish Verma
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Captured Memories
Captured memories from the past
At the Oklahoma History Center
You’ll be surprised and impressed
The very moment you enter
It’s such a treasured museum
One you will truly enjoy
Early railroad pictures
That has so many stories
A one room school house
Really takes you back
Railroad in the early stages
So different from the Amtrak
Teepees from the past as well
Oil once called Black gold
An oh, the stories and the tales
So many to be told
So take some time and visit
The Oklahoma History Center
You’ll be so glad you did, folks
The very moment that you enter!
poem by Marilyn Lott
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The Ghost’s Petition
'There's a footstep coming: look out and see,'
'The leaves are falling, the wind is calling;
No one cometh across the lea.'—
'There's a footstep coming; O sister, look.'—
'The ripple flashes, the white foam dashes;
No one cometh across the brook.'—
'But he promised that he would come:
To-night, to-morrow, in joy or sorrow,
He must keep his word, and must come home.
'For he promised that he would come:
His word was given; from earth or heaven,
He must keep his word, and must come home.
'Go to sleep, my sweet sister Jane;
You can slumber, who need not number
Hour after hour, in doubt and pain.
'I shall sit here awhile, and watch;
Listening, hoping, for one hand groping
In deep shadow to find the latch.'
After the dark, and before the light,
One lay sleeping; and one sat weeping,
Who had watched and wept the weary night.
After the night, and before the day,
One lay sleeping; and one sat weeping—
Watching, weeping for one away.
There came a footstep climbing the stair;
Some one standing out on the landing
Shook the door like a puff of air—
Shook the door, and in he passed.
Did he enter? In the room centre
Stood her husband: the door shut fast.
'O Robin, but you are cold—
Chilled with the night-dew: so lily-white you
Look like a stray lamb from our fold.
'O Robin, but you are late:
Come and sit near me—sit here and cheer me.'—
(Blue the flame burnt in the grate.)
'Lay not down your head on my breast:
I cannot hold you, kind wife, nor fold you
In the shelter that you love best.
'Feel not after my clasping hand:
I am but a shadow, come from the meadow
Where many lie, but no tree can stand.
'We are trees which have shed their leaves:
Our heads lie low there, but no tears flow there;
Only I grieve for my wife who grieves.
'I could rest if you would not moan
Hour after hour; I have no power
To shut my ears where I lie alone.
'I could rest if you would not cry;
But there's no sleeping while you sit weeping—
Watching, weeping so bitterly.'—
'Woe's me! woe's me! for this I have heard.
Oh night of sorrow!—oh black to-morrow!
Is it thus that you keep your word?
'O you who used so to shelter me
Warm from the least wind—why, now the east wind
Is warmer than you, whom I quake to see.
'O my husband of flesh and blood,
For whom my mother I left, and brother,
And all I had, accounting it good,
'What do you do there, underground,
In the dark hollow? I'm fain to follow.
What do you do there?—what have you found?'—
'What I do there I must not tell:
But I have plenty: kind wife, content ye:
It is well with us—it is well.
'Tender hand hath made our nest;
Our fear is ended, our hope is blended
With present pleasure, and we have rest.'—
'Oh, but Robin, I'm fain to come,
If your present days are so pleasant;
For my days are so wearisome.
'Yet I'll dry my tears for your sake:
Why should I tease you, who cannot please you
Any more with the pains I take?'
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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A Paper Boat On A Murky River
on your hand is a paper boat
you made last night
on a rainy day like this
you put on a gray rain coat
the river rises
perfect for your scheme
you put the boat gently
on the brown water
white paper boat
carried by this murkiness
your hands push
the paper boat leaves
tonight you sleep on
the wooden floor
it is mahogany brown and you
become the paper boat
sailing inside your dream
the floor becomes the big river
your thoughts become the wind
your eyes become two moons
the room is as dark as the night
the dream is so alive like a mother's song.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Tuck Your Shirt In
My name is Holly
And I like
I'm so glad that you asked me out tonight
Our conversation over dinner was really nice
But don't forget you still owe me dessert
It's 12 we missed the late show
So let's head over to this joint that I know
Everytime I take someone it's always such a ride
But there's a dress code
You've got to follow
There's no exceptions
And once you're in
If you want TMA
You better need to be
Oh baby
But before you enter
Tuck your shirt in
No way you'll get rid of
Other clothes
If you don't follow this
One moment
Tuck your shirt in
La la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la
We're probably gonna need to call a cab
Ten minute walk over there and back
But I think it's best we
Save our energy
Tonight I'm really on the grind
Otherwise I'd normally wait a while
Before I'd ask
Somebody to my party
But there's a dress code
You've got to follow
There's no exceptions
And once you're in
If you want TMA
You better need to be
Oh baby
But before you enter
Tuck your shirt in
No way you'll get rid of
Other clothes
If you don't follow this
One moment
Tuck your shirt in
La la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la
But there's a dress code
You've got to follow
There's no exceptions
And once you're in
If you want TMA
You better need to be
Oh baby
But before you enter
Tuck your shirt in
No way you'll get rid of
Other clothes
If you don't follow this
One moment
Tuck your shirt in
TMA
You better need to be
Oh baby
But before you enter
Tuck your shirt in
No way you'll get rid of
Other clothes
If you don't follow this
One moment
Tuck your shirt in
La la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la
song performed by by Holly Valance from Footprints
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ancient Dust Of My Homeland
Spirit of Mystic Aoteaora, enter into me
Land of Long White Cloud, enter into me
Spirit of My Forebears Ancestors, enter into me
Spirit you called Legendary Fairy Folk, enter into me
Spirit of ice capped southern mountains,
rivers forests glaciers, enter into me
Spirit of this old mystic majestic land,
encapsulating my birthright, enter into me
Dark majestic nights descend
upon wild west coast beaches,
Moonlight lapping serene wave tops
sparkling with ephemeral magic
Spirit of multitudinal diverse natures
Blowing in spray blown sea breezes,
Spirit of ancient dust of my homeland
Spirit of ancient Aotearoa, enter into me
Aotearoa (pronounced [aoˌ teaˈ roa]) is the most widely known and accepted Mā ori name for New Zealand.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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God Simply Is
god is not some distant sphere,
not the hall of judgement,
not righteous fear.
god is not the image we worship,
not a holy book or recited prayer.
god is not a purity that cant be touched.
god is not a religion,
not a concept, not a moral storm.
god is never the reason to hate,
never the reason to go to war.
god is not white,
not conservative, nor liberal,
not going to destroy the world....
god is the power between two hands that touch,
the birth of a child, the death of an old man.
the longing we were born with that drives us on...
the courage to enter the realm of the heart.
true communion, true dialogue,
the bridge over our fears.
the wings of the sparrow,
the bud sleeping through winter.
the decision of forgiveness,
that which is given without asking back.
the healing power of silence,
the eternity in each moment.
god is diversity bound by responsibility.
the power of peace, the moment of listening,
the sound of your own heartbeat calling you home.
the spirit that inhabits the body
doing the work of compassion...
god simply 'is'...
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Sonnet LXXXI: Rest with your dream inside my dream
Already, you are mine. Rest with your dream inside my dream.
Love, grief, labour, must sleep now.
Night revolves on invisible wheels
and joined to me you are pure as sleeping amber.
No one else will sleep with my dream, love.
You will go we will go joined by the waters of time.
No other one will travel the shadows with me,
only you, eternal nature, eternal sun, eternal moon.
Already your hands have opened their delicate fists
and let fall, without direction, their gentle signs,
you eyes enclosing themselves like two grey wings,
while I follow the waters you bring that take me onwards:
night, Earth, winds weave their fate, and already,
not only am I not without you, I alone am your dream.
poem by Pablo Neruda
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My Lullaby (Song)
Close your eyes
Go to sleep.
Find your soul
In arms I'll keep
Dream you Little dark Dream
In your eyes
There's a glow
See your dreams
Now you know
Dream you Little dark Dreams
See your dreams
Come alive
Watch them dance
Through your eyes
Dream you Little dark Dreams
Coming now into eternal
Slumber, Sleep your Life's infernal
Lies called dreams within our sorrow
Never waking for tomorrow
Bow your head
Lay on down
Wipe your tears
Do not frown
Dream Dream Dream Dream Dream Dream
Dream you Little dark Dreams
Tonight.
poem by Sans Serif
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Freedom In The Centre
I know I'll enter
aiming for the center
goodness is my mentor
in warmth and bad weather
evil is like vapor
emitted from the hearts of leapers
where it dwells deeper
I know I'll knock and enter
where life is a favor
to the lost and whiners
the children of nature
who've been blown by fate
into the grave of despair
where humanity is enclosed
i know some day I'll enter
into life's epicenter
where fate and luck meet
and they shake hands
I'll go straight for the struggle
and i grab my mantle
when it's time for the end
Freedom in the center
striving is man's duty
hope flowing forever
cause all will be well
grace for the believer
who waits for the redeemer
in a hope to find a way!
poem by Timothy muggaga
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Wide Opened!
The doors are now wide opened!
So, you can easily enter in;
But, do watch your steps around.
This world,
This muse,
This love,
This act;
But, there are rules to everything on this earth,
So, watch your steps before you enter in.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Unabashed Want
i wipe a tiny cosmos
..from the corner
..........of your mouth,
and watch you sleeping...
'neath a blanket
....of
......crumbling
......... leaves
...and
.....fresh fallen
.......snow;
the scent of your rich dark earth,
...and the pulsing warmth
.....of you evolving
..at my fingertips...
nothing more than
..the owl that has your name,
and the hidden space
..between your fingers
curled in unabashed want....
the dream that kisses your eyelids,
...the first and last small fire
.....in an unnamed cave!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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The Entropy of Pleasure
By the time you walk up to the ocean
the wave has already disappeared,
replaced by another wave, another sadness
as in passion or the light dying at dusk
or the shell split under your foot, another
scar made in the sand. You can't remember
exactly what you need to remember. White fluttering
wings arrive in the sweet grass like letters
from someone you loved who has abandoned you
for another city. And all the signs
read 'Dangerous Currents', 'Sea Forest'.
It's so difficult to keep track of the tracks
that are leading to unexpected places.
Change is a way we can't easily follow,
the water disappearing; even the dunes
have shifted and right when you are about to lose
your way into the wild oats, shuddering,
there are the stars in the center of sand dollars
that make you remember what you spend is spent,
the entropy of pleasure a wave's body
you can't hold in your hands for long. You
know the only way out is landmarks
you can't even imagine, the way we are drawn,
pulled by the tides, the first step
into happiness, its dangerous pleasure,
licked by the water's green flames
poem by Geraldine Connolly
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