Sphinx-Money
Where Pyramids and temple-wrecks are piled
Confusedly on camel-coloured sands,
And the mute Arab motionlessly stands,
Like some swart god who never wept or smiled,--
I picked up mummy relics of the wild
(And sea-shells once with clutching baby hands),
And felt a wafture from old Motherlands,
And all the morning wonder of a Child
To find Sphinx-money. So the Beduin calls
Small fossils of the waste. Nay, poet's gold;
'Twill give thee entrance to those rites of old,
When hundred-gated Thebes, with storied walls,
Gleamed o'er her Plain, and vast processions rolled
To Amon-Ra through Karnak's pillared halls.
poem by Mathilde Blind
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Only A Dream
METHOUGHT I saw thee yesternight
Sit by me in the olden guise,
The white robes and the pain foregone,
Weaving instead of amaranth crown
A web of mortal dyes.
I cried, 'Where hast thou been so long?'
(The mild eyes turned and mutely smiled
'Why dwellest thou in far-off lands?
What is that web within thy hands?'
--'I work for thee, my child.'
I clasped thee in my arms and wept;
I kissed thee oft with passion wild:
I poured fond questions, tender blame;
Still thy sole answer was the same,--
'I work for thee, my child.'
'Come and walk with me as of old.'
Then camest thou, silent as before;
We passed along that churchyard way
We used to tread each Sabbath day,
Till one trod earth no more.
I felt thy hand upon my arm,
Beside me thy meek face I saw,
Yet through the sweet familiar grace
A something spiritual could trace
That left a nameless awe.
Trembling I said, 'Long years have passed
Since thou wert from my side beguiled;
Now thou'rt returned and all shall be
As was before.'--Half-pensively
Thou answered'st--'Nay, my child.'
I pleaded sore: 'Hadst thou forgot
The love wherewith we loved of old,--
The long sweet days of converse blest,
The nights of slumber on thy breast,--
Wert thou to me grown cold?'
There beamed on me those eyes of heaven
That wept no more, but ever smiled;
'Love only is love in that Home
Where I abide--where, till thou come,
I work for thee, my child.'
If from my sight thou passedst then,
Or if my sobs the dream exiled,
I know not: but in memory clear
I seem these strange words still to hear,
'I work for thee, my child.'
poem by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
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The Beautiful Beeshareen Boy
Beautiful, black-eyed boy,
O lithe-limbed Beeshareen!
Face that finds no maid coy,
Page for some peerless queen:
Some Orient queen of old,
Sumptuous in woven gold,
Close-clinging fold on fold,
Lightning, with gems between.
Bred in the desert, where
Only to breathe and be
Alive in living air
Is finest ecstasy;
Where just to ride or rove,
With sun or stars above,
Intoxicates like love,
When love shall come to thee.
Thy lovely limbs are bare;
Only a rag, in haste,
Draped with a princely air,
Girdles they slender waist.
And gaudy beads and charms,
Dangling from neck and arms,
Ward off dread spells and harms
Of Efreets of the waste.
Caressed of wind and sun,
Across the white-walled town
Fawnlike we saw thee run,
Light Love in Mocha brown!
Wild Cupid, without wings,
Twanging thy viol strings;
With crocodiles and rings
Bartered for half a crown.
Spoilt darling of our bark,
Smiling with teeth as white
As when across the dark
There breaks a flash of light.
And what a careless grace
Showed in thy gait and pace;
Eyes starlike in a face
Sweet as a Nubian night!
Better than Felt or Fez,
High on thy forehead set,
Countless in lock and tress,
Waved a wild mane of jet.
Kings well might envy thee
What courts but rarely see,
Curls of rich ebony
Coiled in a coronet.
Lo--in dim days long since--
The strolling Almehs tell,
Thou shouldst have been a prince,
Boy of the ebon fell!
If truth the poet sings,
Thy tribe, oh Beduin, springs
From those lost tribes of Kings,
Once Kings in Israel.
Ah me! the camp-fires gleam
Out yonder, where the sands
Fade like a lotos dream
In hollow twilight lands.
Our sail swells to the blast,
Our boat speeds far and fast,
Farewell! And to the last
Smile, waving friendly hands.
* * * * * *
From England's storm-girt isle,
O'er seas where seagulls wail,
Rocked on the rippling Nile,
We drift with drooping sail.
On waters hushed at night,
Where stars of Egypt write
In hieroglyphs of light
Their undeciphered tale.
Forlorn sits Assouan;
Where is her boy, her pride?--
Now in the lamplit Khan,
Now by the riverside,
Or where the Soudanese,
Under mimosa trees,
Chaunt mournful melodies,
We've sought him far and wide.
Oh, desert-nurtured Child,
How dared they carry thee,
Far from thy native Wild,
Across the Western Sea?
Packed off, poor boy, at last,
With many a plaster cast
Of plinth and pillar vast,
And waxen mummies piled!
Ah! just like other ware,
For a lump sum or so
Shipped to the World's great Fair--
To big Chicago Show!
With mythic beasts and things,
Beetles and bulls with wings,
And imitation Sphinx,
Ranged row on curious row!
Beautiful, black-eyed boy;
Ah me! how strange it is
That thou, the desert's joy,
Whom heavenly winds would kiss,
With Ching and Chang-hwa ware,
Blue pots and bronzes rare,
Shouldst now be over there
Shown at Porkopolis.
Gone like a lovely dream,
Child of the starry smile;
Gone from the glowing stream
Glassing its greenest isle!
We've sought, but sought in vain;
Thou wilt not come again,
Never for bliss or pain,
Home to thy orphaned Nile.
poem by Mathilde Blind
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Nobody's Child
As i was slowly passing
An orphan's home one day,
I stopped for just a little while
To watch the children play.
Alone a boy was standing
And when i asked him why,
He turned with eyes that could not see
And he began to cry.
I'm nobody's child,
I'm nobody's child.
Just like the flowers
I'm growing wild.
I got no mummy's kisses
I got no daddy's smile.
Nobody wants me,
I'm nobody's child.
No mummy's arms to hold me
Or sue me when i cry,
'cos sometimes i feel so lonesome
I wish that i could die.
I'll walk the streets of heaven
Where all blinds can see.
And just like for the other kids
It will be a home for me.
I'm nobody's child,
I'm nobody's child.
Just like the flowers
I'm growing wild.
I got no mummy's kisses
I got no daddy's smile.
Nobody wants me,
I'm nobody's child
song performed by by Beatles
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Oh Mummy, Oh Mummy
Oh Mummy, oh Mummy
where are you?
You were in your sarcophagus yesterday
but now you are gone.
Oh Mummy, oh Mummy
where may you be?
Has someone in the night
come in and stolen thee?
Oh Mummy, oh Mummy
I know you are two thousand years old
and just a box of bandages,
but about you, I care so.
I found you in that pyramid
amongst all your treasures
for the after life.
Oh Mummy, oh Mummy
there you are hiding away from me.
Hey, what are you doing?
Oooh Mummy stop doing that,
you are two thousand years old
and I am only twenty-three.
Oooh Mummy. Oooh Mummy
don’t stop now.
Oooh Mummy you are a sexy beast.
4 November 2009
poem by David Harris
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At The Seaside
O SOLITARY shining sea
That ripples in the sun,
O gray and melancholy sea,
O'er which the shadows run;
O many-voiced and angry sea,
Breaking with moan and strain,--
I, like a humble, chastened child,
Come back to thee again;
And build child-castles and dig moats
Upon the quiet sands,
And twist the cliff-convolvulus
Once more, round idle hands;
And look across that ocean line,
As o'er life's summer sea,
Where many a hope went sailing once,
Full set, with canvas free.
Strange, strange to think how some of them
Their silver sails have furled,
And some have whitely glided down
Into the under world;
And some, dismasted, tossed and torn,
Put back in port once more,
Thankful to ride, with freight still safe,
At anchor near the shore.
Stranger it is to lie at ease
As now, with thoughts that fly
More light and wandering than sea-birds
Between the waves and sky:
To play child's play with shells and weeds,
And view the ocean grand
Sunk to one wave that may submerge
A baby-house of sand;
And not once look, or look by chance,
With old dreams quite supprest,
Across that mystic wild sea-world
Of infinite unrest.
O ever solitary sea,
Of which we all have found
Somewhat to dream or say,--the type
Of things without a bound--
Love, long as life, and strong as death;
Faith, humble as sublime;
Eternity, whose large depths hold
The wrecks of this small Time;--
Unchanging, everlasting sea!
To spirits soothed and calm
Thy restless moan of other years
Becomes an endless psalm.
poem by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
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Round & Round
I just can't help thinking
What you've done to me
You built a wall of love and tore it right down
In front of me
And you think you know what's going on
You keep telling me that i am wrong
I don't care about what you do
'cause if you mess with me i'll get rid of you
The picture you see is no portrait of me
It's too real to be shown to someone i don't know
And it's driving me wild
It makes me act like a child
You think i am crazy, but what can i do
You waste your time, like my money
It ain't so funny, but it's true
(don't waste my money, baby)
Now you can't tell me what's going on
And that i am weak while you are strong
What is it you need, that makes your heart bleed
Do you really know? 'cause it doesn't show
The picture you see is no portrait of me
It's too real to be shown to someone i don't know
And it's driving me wild
It makes me act like a child
The picture you see is no portrait of me
It's too real to be shown to someone i don't know
And it's driving me wild
It makes me act like a child
song performed by by New Order
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When I Have Borne In Memory
WHEN I have borne in memory what has tamed
Great Nations, how ennobling thoughts depart
When men change swords for ledgers, and desert
The student's bower for gold, some fears unnamed
I had, my Country!--am I to be blamed?
Now, when I think of thee, and what thou art,
Verily, in the bottom of my heart,
Of those unfilial fears I am ashamed.
For dearly must we prize thee; we who find
In thee a bulwark for the cause of men:
And I by my affection was beguiled:
What wonder if a Poet now and then,
Among the many movements of his mind,
Felt for thee as a lover or a child!
poem by William Wordsworth
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Two hundred and fifty mummies covered in gold. Something like this cannot be explained - mummy after mummy covered in shining gold.
quote by Zahi Hawass
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Absolutely Bills Mood
I was born in a lighthouse, my mother was the sea
I crawled to school each morning, when it occured to me
That lifes just a mood ring were not allowed to see
And this is what it said to me
My room is comfortably small
With rubber lining the walls
And theres someone always calling my name
He calls when Im alone
And he calls when Im not home
And he calls when Im stuck out in the rain
Im insane
Im insane
Im insane
Im insane
Now listen all you swingers, dont you try to tag along
I know monkey see, but monkeys dead, for you it would be wrong
Put a dime in my jukebox, youll only hear this song
And it wont be fun for long
Because my room is comfortably small
With rubber lining the walls
And theres someone always calling my name
He calls when Im alone
And he calls when Im not home
And he calls when Im stuck out in the rain
Im insane
Im insane
Im insane
Im insane
Thank you
Thank you
My room is comfortably small
With rubber lining the walls
And theres someone always calling my name
He calls when Im alone
And he calls when Im not home
And he calls when Im stuck out in the rain
Im insane
Im insane
Im insane
Im insane
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Alaskan Balladry
Krinken was a little child,-
It was summer when he smiled.
Oft the hoary sea and grim
Stretched its white arms out to him,
Calling, 'Sun-child, come to me;
Let me warm my heart with thee!'
But the child heard not the sea,
Calling, yearning evermore
For the summer on the shore.
Krinken on the beach one day
Saw a maiden Nis at play;
On the pebbly beach she played
In the summer Krinken made.
Fair, and very fair, was she,
Just a little child was he.
'Krinken,' said the maiden Nis,
'Let me have a little kiss,
Just a kiss, and go with me
To the summer-lands that be
Down within the silver sea.'
Krinken was a little child-
By the maiden Nis beguiled,
Hand in hand with her went he,
And 'twas summer in the sea.
And the hoary sea and grim
To its bosom folded him-
Clasped and kissed the little form,
And the ocean's heart was warm.
Now the sea calls out no more;
It is winter on the shore,-
Winter where that little child
Made sweet summer when he smiled;
Though 'tis summer on the sea
Where with maiden Nis went he,-
Summer, summer evermore,-
It is winter on the shore,
Winter, winter evermore.
Of the summer on the deep
Come sweet visions in my sleep:
His
fair face lifts from the sea,
His
dear voice calls out to me,-
These my dreams of summer be.
Krinken was a little child,
By the maiden Nis beguiled;
Oft the hoary sea and grim
Reached its longing arms to him,
Crying, 'Sun-child, come to me;
Let me warm my heart with thee!'
But the sea calls out no more;
It is winter on the shore,-
Winter, cold and dark and wild;
Krinken was a little child,-
It was summer when he smiled;
Down he went into the sea,
And the winter bides with me.
Just a little child was he.
poem by Eugene Field
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Breastmilk
Of craftiness and subtleness!
But if i have breatsmilk,
I will feed my child all day.
Like a caring mother who cheerishes her children,
I will feed my child all day long.
Your baby needs breastmilk like,
A woman after hwer own heart;
And you are a devoted woman of a higher rank.
Sisters, Mothers, Women!
Of the sweet smelling aroma of your breastmilk;
But the family in heaven is like a child with the mother.
Stand the test and be obedient in all things,
Give your baby food and forget about your phone calls!
For you are not my mother and,
You are not an African woman.
I know how it feels and,
I know who you are;
But feed your baby with breastmilk at all times.
Like a house without hands,
Give your baby breastmilk to keep the child healthy;
For out of the blessings of the Creator you've got this child.
The door is now open on you,
The truth is now set for you,
The care is now in your own hands,
But your child really need this milk.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Your Presence Fills My Heart in a Beat
Your presence fills my heart in a beat
The moment stops Niagara Falls,
My heart holds you seated on a silver seat
The sheer pleasure of eyes pulsating calls,
Melts my core...The Taj Mahal a vanity fair.
My love dances to embracing tunes
As the Sphinx’s gold runs thru your hair,
The pyramids return to sandy dunes
Wings unfold I feel a galactic flyer,
You alone set the stars fires blinking
I’m so rich with you I can aspire no higher,
Your hands prevent my heart from sinking,
Down life’s path always together
In love holding hands forever.
poem by Ken e Hall
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Ch 08 On Rules For Conduct In Life - Maxim 57
The meekness of the camel is known to be such that if a child takes hold of its bridle and goes a hundred farsakhs, it will not refuse to follow, but if a dangerous portion occurs which may occasion death and the child ignorantly desires to approach it, the camel tears the bridle from his hand, refusing any longer to obey because compliance in times of calamity is blamable. It is also said that by complaisance an enemy will not become a friend but that his greed will only be augmented.
To him who is kind to thee, be dust at his feet
But if he opposes thee fill his two eyes with dust.
Speak not kindly or gently to an ill-humoured fellow
Because a soft file cannot clean off inveterate rust.
Wishing For The Sun
Lying on a bed
Flying in my head
Wishing for the sun
Don't let the rain man come
Open up the sky
Stop living in denial
Cut the ropes on me
Feel myself float free
Say hello to the sun when the morning comes
Wave goodbye to the rain, it only brings you pain
Say hello to the sun when the morning comes
We're climbing up the walls
Clutching at your straw
Waving to be seen
Holding on to dreams
Stop living in disguise
Can't cover up my eyes
A new solution's here
Don't watch it disappear
Say hello to the sun when the morning comes
Wave goodbye to the rain, it only brings you pain
Say hello to the sun when the morning comes...
We could always fly into a coloured sky
I think that I've arrived in techni-coloured style
I'm turning upside down, float into the ground
It's alright
Say hello to the sun when the morning comes
Wave goodbye to the rain, it only brings you pain
Say hello to the sun when the morning comes...
song performed by by Feeder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wild Child
It's too late to turn back
When the green lights flash
Too late to turn around
When the love goes down
Your fire my fate
This woman won't wait
So love beam your laser light
Get ready gonna take this flight
You're so wild
(you're wild and willing)
So wild (your spirit's free)
You're such a wild wild child
Oh baby go wild with me
Two hearts one mind
Baby you're my kind
You're too hot you're too much
You've got that personal touch
Push button play thing
Make my back door ring
Fight fire with a little fire baby
You oughta know you make this
little girl sing
You're so wild
(you're wild and willing)
So wild (your spirit's free)
You're such a wild wild child
Oh baby go wild with me
Do your little shake baby
rattle and roll
Ring my bell baby do my soul
Don't let the grass grow under my feet
Bang my drum baby feel my beat
you're so wild
You're so wild
(you're wild and willing)
So wild (your spirit's free)
You're such a wild wild child
Oh baby go wild with me
You're so wild
(you're wild and willing)
So wild (your spirit's free)
You're such a wild wild child
Oh baby go wild with me
song performed by by Heart from Brigade
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tide Rises, the Tide Falls, The
The tide rises, the tide falls,
The twilight darkens, the curlew calls;
Along the sea-sands damp and brown
The traveler hastens toward the town,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
Darkness settles on roofs and walls,
But the sea, the sea in darkness calls;
The little waves, with their soft, white hands
Efface the footprints in the sands,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
The morning breaks; the steeds in their stalls
Stamp and neigh, as the hostler calls;
The day returns, but nevermore
Returns the traveler to the shore.
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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The Tide Rises, the Tide Falls
The tide rises, the tide falls,
The twilight darkens, the curlew calls;
Along the sea-sands damp and brown
The traveller hastens toward the town,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
Darkness settles on roofs and walls,
But the sea, the sea in the darkness calls;
The little waves, with their soft, white hands,
Efface the footprints in the sands,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
The morning breaks; the steeds in their stalls
Stamp and neigh, as the hostler calls;
The day returns, but nevermore
Returns the traveller to the shore,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Ultima Thule: The Tide Rises, The Tide Falls
The tide rises, the tide falls,
The twilight darkens, the curlew calls;
Along the sea-sands damp and brown
The traveller hastens toward the town,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
Darkness settles on roofs and walls,
But the sea, the sea in the darkness calls;
The little waves, with their soft, white hands,
Efface the footprints in the sands,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
The morning breaks; the steeds in their stalls
Stamp and neigh, as the hostler calls;
The day returns, but nevermore
Returns the traveller to the shore,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Round Round
I just cant help thinking
What youve done to me
You built a wall of love and tore it right down
In front of me
And you think you know whats going on
You keep telling me that I am wrong
I dont care about what you do
cause if you mess with me Ill get rid of you
The picture you see is no portrait of me
Its too real to be shown to someone I dont know
And its driving me wild
It makes me act like a child
You think I am crazy, but what can I do
You waste your time, like my money
It aint so funny, but its true
(dont waste my money, baby)
Now you cant tell me whats going on
And that I am weak while you are strong
What is it you need, that makes your heart bleed
Do you really know? cause it doesnt show
The picture you see is no portrait of me
Its too real to be shown to someone I dont know
And its driving me wild
It makes me act like a child
The picture you see is no portrait of me
Its too real to be shown to someone I dont know
And its driving me wild
It makes me act like a child
song performed by by New Order
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Tongue—to tell Him I am true!
400
A Tongue—to tell Him I am true!
Its fee—to be of Gold—
Had Nature—in Her monstrous House
A single Ragged Child—
To earn a Mine—would run
That Interdicted Way,
And tell Him—Charge thee speak it plain—
That so far—Truth is True?
And answer What I do—
Beginning with the Day
That Night—begun—
Nay—Midnight—'twas—
Since Midnight—happened—say—
If once more—Pardon—Boy—
The Magnitude thou may
Enlarge my Message—If too vast
Another Lad—help thee—
Thy Pay—in Diamonds—be—
And His—in solid Gold—
Say Rubies—if He hesitate—
My Message—must be told—
Say—last I said—was This—
That when the Hills—come down—
And hold no higher than the Plain—
My Bond—have just begun—
And when the Heavens—disband—
And Deity conclude—
Then—look for me. Be sure you say—
Least Figure—on the Road—
poem by Emily Dickinson
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