Folding the Sun
Folding the paper suppresses the job of life,
Inside the islands of our sleep awaits the return;
To this return we look and respond, forming years
And more ages and eras for the common good.
A secret has been unleashed forcing us about
With frocks of fidelity, clothes of the surface of the body.
The reality of secrecy relied on more realness
As it circled and went somewhat straight.
Let this lesson mirror certain beliefs,
Creating a piano to be played in front of dozens.
Doze and burn the skin under the stars at night
Even when the sun is present, even at night.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Related quotes
She Touches A Sad String Of Soft Recall
Return, return! all night my lamp is burning,
All night, like it, my wide eyes watch and burn;
Like it, I fade and pale, when day returning
Bears witness that the absent can return,
Return, return.
Like it, I lessen with a lengthening sadness,
Like it, I burn to waste and waste to burn,
Like it, I spend the golden oil of gladness
To feed the sorrowy signal for return,
Return, return.
Like it, like it, whene'er the east wind sings,
I bend and shake; like it, I quake and yearn,
When Hope's late butterflies, with whispering wings,
Fly in out of the dark, to fall and burn-
Burn in the watchfire of return,
Return, return.
Like it, the very flame whereby I pine
Consumes me to its nature. While I mourn
My soul becomes a better soul than mine,
And from its brightening beacon I discern
My starry love go forth from me, and shine
Across the seas a path for thy return,
Return, return.
Return, return! all night I see it burn,
All night it prays like me, and lifts a twin
Of palmèd praying hands that meet and yearn-
Yearn to the impleaded skies for thy return.
Day, like a golden fetter, locks them in,
And wans the light that withers, tho' it burn
As warmly still for thy return;
Still thro' the splendid load uplifts the thin
Pale, paler, palest patience that can learn
Nought but that votive sign for thy return-
That single suppliant sign for thy return,
Return, return.
Return, return! lest haply, love, or e'er
Thou touch the lamp the light have ceased to burn,
And thou, who thro' the window didst discern
The wonted flame, shalt reach the topmost stair
To find no wide eyes watching there,
No withered welcome waiting thy return!
A passing ghost, a smoke-wreath in the air,
The flameless ashes, and the soulless urn,
Warm with the famished fire that lived to burn-
Burn out its lingering life for thy return,
Its last of lingering life for thy return,
Its last of lingering life to light thy late return,
Return, return.
poem by Sydney Thompson Dobell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Return!
RETURN, return! all night my lamp is burning,
All night, like it, my wide eyes watch and burn;
Like it, I fade and pale, when day returning
Bears witness that the absent can return,
Return, return.
Like it, I lessen with a lengthening sadness,
Like it, I burn to waste and waste to burn,
Like it, I spend the golden oil of gladness
To feed the sorrowy signal for return,
Return, return.
Like it, like it, whene'er the east wind sings,
I bend and shake; like it, I quake and yearn,
When Hope's late butterflies, with whispering wings,
Fly in out of the dark, to fall and burn--
Burn in the watchfire of return,
Return, return.
Like it, the very flame whereby I pine
Consumes me to its nature. While I mourn
My soul becomes a better soul than mine,
And from its brightening beacon I discern
My starry love go forth from me, and shine
Across the seas a path for thy return,
Return, return.
Return, return! all night I see it burn,
All night it prays like me, and lifts a twin
Of palmed praying hands that meet and yearn--
Yearn to the impleaded skies for thy return.
Day, like a golden fetter, locks them in,
And wans the light that withers, tho' it burn
As warmly still for thy return;
Still thro' the splendid load uplifts the thin
Pale, paler, palest patience that can learn
Naught but that votive sign for thy return--
That single suppliant sign for thy return,
Return, return.
Return, return! lest haply, love, or e'er
Thou touch the lamp the light have ceased to burn,
And thou, who thro' the window didst discern
The wonted flame, shalt reach the topmost stair
To find no wide eyes watching there,
No wither'd welcome waiting thy return!
A passing ghost, a smoke-wreath in the air,
The flameless ashes, and the soulless urn,
Warm with the famish'd fire that lived to burn--
Burn out its lingering life for thy return,
Its last of lingering life for thy return,
Its last of lingering life to light thy late return,
Return, return.
poem by Sydney Thompson Dobell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Burn, Georgia, Burn
Words and music by tim lewis and roger murrah
Atlanta was on fire and so was she the night he left her.
Left her there to bear her pain alone, hoping soon to return.
Burn, georgia, burn.
The roaring of th guns filled the emptiness inside her where once she felt
The pounding of her heart.
When he held her in his arms, tenderness they learned.
Burn, georgia, burn.
He was the body, she was the soul of a love affair the couldnt control.
While the world was falling down around them, they were not concerned.
Burn, georgia, burn.
Winter brought the snow and a rider down from franklin with news of how the
War had taken toll and he would not return.
Burn, georgia, burn.
He was the body, she was the soul of a love affair they couldnt control.
While her world crumbled all around her, she was not concerned.
Burn, georgia, burn.
While strolling through her mind she stumbled on an old, familiar feeling of
How he touched her many years ago and how he made her yearn.
Burn, georgia, burn.
song performed by by Alabama
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Return
Return often and take me,
beloved sensation, return and take me --
when the memory of the body awakens,
and an old desire runs again through the blood;
when the lips and the skin remember,
and the hands feel as if they touch again.
Return often and take me at night,
when the lips and the skin remember...
poem by Constantine P. Cavafy
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Christmas Day
A young gentleman came riding past,
On a snow blue winters day,
He asked to drink by our fire
And I was pleased to let him stay,
He drank there quietly for a while,
And then he turned and said to me,
Your eyes are green,
Like summer grass,
Your lips are red,
Like a fresh cut rose,
Your hair is soft,
Like an Irish stream,
And your voice,
Is filled with sweet beauty
And the last words I heard him say
Were I shall return,
For you,
My love,
On Christmas Day
And the night will come,
But I won't sleep,
As I watch the stars that lead him,
I cannot place where he is,
But still my heart goes with him,
I'm saving all my Sunday clothes
For the day that I'll be leaving,
Father knows,
My sister knows,
And my friends,
They're happy for me,
And the priest he says,
You should thank God,
For the blessing,
Of such beauty
And the last words
I heard him say,
Were I shall return,
For you,
My love,
On Christmas Day
I shall return,
For you,
My love,
On Christmas Day
(On Christmas Day)
(I shall return for you my love)
And the last words
I heard him say
Were the last words
I ever
Heard him say
I shall return,
For you,
My love
On Christmas Day
I swear,
I will return,
On Christmas Day,
And yes,
I shall return,
On Christmas Day,
I shall return,
For you,
On Christmas Day
My love,
I will return,
On Christmas Day
I shall return,
My love
On Christmas Day
On Christmas Day
song performed by by Dido
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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This Whole Life
Inside my life thoughts are good,
Ogres sell their souls to the commonfolk.
Yesterday we saw a substance so special,
This was special for the dozens in slaughter.
Yes, our laws were acceptable and we frame a result
For the common good of people.
Let ages pass and more laws come,
Too excellent is the product of our lives.
Our children left us in concise heaps,
Spoonfuls were fed to us in the dozens.
Inside this whole life is a feeling of luck,
One person objects, but everybody loves.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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On Christmas Day
A young gentleman came riding past
On a snow blue winters day
He asked to drink, by our fire,
And I was pleased to let him stay
He drank there quietly for a while,
Then he turned and said to me
Your eyes are green, like summer grass,
Your lips are red like a fresh cut rose,
Your hair is soft like an irish stream
And your voice is filled with sweet beauty
And the last words I heard him say
Were I shall return, for you, my love, on christmas day
The night will come but I wont sleep,
As I watch the stars that lead him,
I cannot place where his is,
But still my heart goes with him,
Im savin all my sunday clothes
For the day the day that Ill be leavin
Father knows, my sister knows,
And my friends, theyre happy for me
And the priest he says, you should thank god,
For the blessing of such beauty,
And the last words I heard him say
Were I shall return for you, my love, on christmas day
I shall return for you, my love, on christmas day.
And the last words I heard him say
Were the last words I ever heard him say
I shall return for you, my love, on christmas day
I swear, I will return on christmas day,
And yes, I shall return on christmas day
I shall return, for you, on christmas day,
My love I will return on christmas day,
I shall return, my love on christmas day
On christmas day...
song performed by by Dido
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Nightmares (English sonnet)
There sometimes is really bad kind of dreams
which you want to avoid, to be waking,
when in your ears you hear your own screams,
while your body, mind and soul is aching
These dreams return like a bomb ever ticking
to the time that they come back with anxiety,
as if the past, the time of war is sticking
its fingers in the present life with impropriety.
Night after night as in sleep you plunge in
again you are in cover behind enemy lines,
you dream of escaping barely by your skin,
where you were trapped by some landmines,
about shooting to kill to be able to survive,
about as a duty taking someone else’s life.
poem by Gert Strydom
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For All Pianos All Around The World
pi
piano
piano use
piano key
piano roll
piano wire
piano note
pianoforte
piano store
piano pedal
piano bench
piano effect
piano sound
piano string
piano mover
piano maker
piano music
piano action
piano player
piano lesson
piano design
piano course
piano soloist
piano tuning
piano recital
piano replica
piano sonata
piano rhythm
piano sample
piano teacher
piano program
piano concerto
piano repertoire
piano brand name
anno piano twenty twelve
poem by Nicolas Grenier
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Return! That to a heart
RETURN! that to a heart wounded full sore
Valiance and strength may enter in; return!
And Life shall pause at the deserted door,
The cold dead body breathe again and burn.
Oh come! and touch mine eyes, of thy sweet grace,
For I am blind to all but to thy face.
Open the gates and bid me see once more!
Like to a cruel Ethiopian band,
Sorrow despoiled the kingdom of my heart
Return! glad Lord of Rome, and free the land;
Before thine arms the foe shall break and part.
See now, I hold a mirror to mine eyes,
And nought but thy reflection therein lies;
The glass speaks truth to them that understand.
Night is with child, hast thou not heard men say?
'Night is with child! what will she bring to birth?'
I sit and ask the stars when thou'rt away.
Oh come! and when the nightingale of mirth
Pipes in the Spring-awakened garden ground,
In Hafiz' heart shall ring a sweeter sound,
Diviner nightingales attune their lay.
poem by Shams al-Din Hafiz
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Ode to Clothes
Every morning you wait,
clothes, over a chair,
to fill yourself with
my vanity, my love,
my hope, my body.
Barely
risen from sleep,
I relinquish the water,
enter your sleeves,
my legs look for
the hollows of your legs,
and so embraced
by your indefatigable faithfulness
I rise, to tread the grass,
enter poetry,
consider through the windows,
the things,
the men, the women,
the deeds and the fights
go on forming me,
go on making me face things
working my hands,
opening my eyes,
using my mouth,
and so,
clothes,
I too go forming you,
extending your elbows,
snapping your threads,
and so your life expands
in the image of my life.
In the wind
you billow and snap
as if you were my soul,
at bad times
you cling
to my bones,
vacant, for the night,
darkness, sleep
populate with their phantoms
your wings and mine.
I wonder
if one day
a bullet
from the enemy
will leave you stained with my blood
and then
you will die with me
or one day
not quite
so dramatic
but simple,
you will fall ill,
clothes,
with me,
grow old
with me, with my body
and joined
we will enter
the earth.
Because of this
each day
I greet you
with reverence and then
you embrace me and I forget you,
because we are one
and we will go on
facing the wind, in the night,
the streets or the fight,
a single body,
one day, one day, some day, still.
poem by Pablo Neruda
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How sad.
How sad!
One more night she laid down by her self in the bed whishing and making fantasies by the phone.
The love of her life is gone one more night and now she has to be going sleep with her wet skin.
Inside of her head are a lot of fantasies but out side is a lot of loneliness and now she has to go sleep one more night with out having what she needs into her life.
How sad! With a love like that, anybody can die but you, you have to hold all the attention and tension inside because has make you blind and that is why you decide to play with fire.
Now you think that you are going to hell but woman when in this world you stay by you self having the love of your life in front of you and doesn’t do anything you have to reach for another light, but how sad that one more night you have to spend it by your self in your own sad world one more time, one more night!
By
Christian montiel
poem by Christian K. Montiel
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Something Is Wrong
something is wrong
but i don't know what.
with in my life
with in my way's.
something is missing
is it my heart
who ruine my night
who ruine my day's
i passing my night
by counting the stars
i wishing you
with in dream's
with in my pray's
something is wrong
is it that time
or is it my words
which blackend the paper
and think himself a lay
(a short lyric or narrative poem)
so just give back my nights,
just return my days
just return my all dreams
just give back my pray
do you hear!
whatever i say
I Am Wearied
Return to me like a ghost, a wearied creature like a man
Who was so appalled by youth that he died and became as I can.
Return to me as if you know me from somewhere else,
The place is no secret from where you came, someone else.
Return now, return and frighten me as a good ghost
Frying bacon, working magic on a basis easternmost.
I seek refuge from you, for the returning is so secret,
I can not find a more evil man than you, a man to interpret.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Return
If
memory escapes me
I have returned to you
A thousand times
In dreams dreaming
In streams glistening
In half light
You have become tiny stars
I return to you
In the unfolding hours
Of embracing
Woods warm scent
Autumns silent fall
These are the fragile footprints
That break the stance of trees
Whose branches bend and bow
And falll
And though I lie upon the soil
My face is the sky
My eyes a burning sun
I return to you on the wind
Lost
In the sorrow of the moon
Felt still
I am here
Cold as the night
Held in your warm breast
I burn still
In the fire of your heart
These ghosts
They melt and dance
Mourn and celebrate
The life
Beneath the skin of life
Forever I return
Forever in love
Finding my rest in you
Forever being born
poem by Yvette Smith
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All Of You
(t. renis/j. iglesias/c. weil)
I've never had this feeling before
I've never wanted anyone more
And something in your eyes tells me
You feel the way that i do
(i feel like you do)
If you would like to stay here all night
You know that i would say
It's all right
'though i'm saying yes
I confess
I've got more on my mind
'cause i want more of you
Than your time
All of you, your body and soul
Every kind of love you can express
All the secret dreams you've never told
I want everything
And i'll take nothing less
All of you as long as you live
Everything you've never shared before
I want all of you that you can give
All your joys and all your sorrows
Your todays and your tomorrows
How i long to feel the warmth of your touch
And then if i'm not asking too much
I'd like to spend my life wand'ring through
All the wonders of you
And when we're lying close in the dark
So close i feel each beat of your heart
I want you to reveal what you feel
All you hold deep inside
There is nothing i want you to hide
All of you, your body and soul
Everything you want this love to be
I want all of you
All that you can give
And in return for all your giving
Let me give you all of me
All of you, your body and soul
Every kind of love you can express
All the secret dreams you've never told
I want everything (everything) everything
All of you as long as you live
(as long as you live)
Everything you want this love to be
I want all of you
All that you can give
In return (in return) i wanna give you
song performed by by Diana Ross
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Return Post
(v. peterson/s. hoffs)
Vicki
Writing the lines as they come to me
Scratching them out almost immediately
Dont know what its done to me
Its cold and its wet its been raining all night
And theres a letter Ive been trying to write
Something better waiting somewhere for me
One of them is sitting on the wrong coast
One awaits an answer by return post
Waiting, waiting
Try to remember how long its been
There was more to us than paper and pen
Think how easy it is to conceal
And I know when were together again
Well be strangers for an hour and then
Well have to figure out if this thing is real
One of them is sitting on the east coast
One awaits an answer by return post
Waiting, waiting
Take a drink and staring out the window
Wondering how long this can continue
Waiting, waiting
song performed by by Bangles
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mid-Night Oil
I have burned the mid-night oil
and my brain is weary.
I have burned the mid-night oil
and my eyes are teary.
Things look better in daytime.
The darkness brings on thought.
Problems become magnified
and you feel like you are caught
inside a darkened tunnel,
not able to find your way out.
If it wasn't for approaching daylight
you would live in doubt.
You'd doubt the thought inside your head
would ever go away.
You'd doubt the thought could disappear
in the light of day.
You'd doubt the thought could not return
and you'd burn the mid-night oil.
You'd doubt the thought that on the ensuing night
you'd burn the mid-night oil.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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My hut
My house in a slum is a hut.
To it I return every night.
In it lives as grown stale my mate.
My hut and my mate are a safe bet
To me who am shut to other huts.
To sleep in I return to my hut.
To sleep with, I return to my mate.
I am used to it, though a hut.
19.03.2007.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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My Love In A Mirror
She stood there
looking at herself...
at the beauty God bestowed on her
in front of this mirror
I stood behind her, wrapping my soul around her
my dark brown arms against her pale skin,
covering her nakedness
in front of this mirror
Our bodies stirred, feeling the fire
remembering our lovemaking earlier,
and previous times we have stood here
in front of this mirror
Like this very moment, her eyes
arresting me, her soul possessing me,
the warmth of my body against hers
in front of this mirror
poem by Pablo Loves Life
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