My Name That Runs
Underneath the sea stands a river of silk and milk that runs,
Opening thoughts of you, the dispute of a month that runs.
I have a maze of worries that tortures the depths of the mind,
Offering me a solution shall be the ocean that is the millionth that runs.
One person is one antagonist, the anatomy of whom excretes blood,
Fetching horrible nightmares like those heroes of the labyrinth that runs.
Let the heavens be attached to the barbarians and soldiers,
One masters them as a battle that rages on as the zillionth that runs.
One will escape the rigours of youth to face a war on the frontline,
Battle systems need generals and wizards of the heavens, the seventh that runs.
I have my name engraved like a stone of weight, the grave so morbid,
One masters my writing as if the relics are as morbid as the trillionth that runs.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Pain runs through my body
Pain runs through my body, and I don't need anymore.
Pain runs through my body, so leave me alone you whore.
Pain runs through my blood, as I start to bleed.
Pain runs through my body, and love is what I need.
Pain runs through my body, everyday of my life.
Pain runs through my body, as I pick up the knife.
Pain runs through my body, as I put it through my chest.
Pain runs through my body and I think you know the rest.
poem by Ari Castillo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Karma
I drop a stone into the ocean
Every choice another turn of the screw
Another wheel set in motion
With every single thing I do
Its there in the air that I breathe
Its in my whisper and scream
Inside everything I believe
And its all gonna come around someday
As the smallest stream runs to a river
And every river runs to the sea
So every little bit of love I give to another
You know that I believe it comes back to me
There is no absolution whether Im the garden or the rose
If I aint part of the solution, yeah you know how that goes
You can always leave but you bring it all back home someday
As the smallest stream runs to a river
And every river runs to the sea
So every little bit of love I give to another
You know that I believe it comes back to me
Every single thing I say, everyone that I betray
Any love that I take when I do not make it in return
Every thing I do and every time Ive been unfaithful too
All the things that I believe are lessons I must learn
As the smallest stream runs to a river
And every river runs to the sea
So every little bit of love I give to another
You know that I believe it comes back to me
As the smallest stream runs to a river
And every river runs to the sea
So every little bit of love I give to another
You know that I believe it comes back to me
song performed by by Rick Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pejar Creek
Deep in the meadow grass
Easy stand the cattle,
Lightly lock the young bulls
In a mimic battle,
Pride gathers with each shock,
Every break and rally -
That’s where the Pejar runs,
Runs like a slip of silver through the valley.
Softly as a thrush sings
In the morning hushes,
Softly sing the waters
Round the reedy rushes,
Softly at the sand-bar,
Softly at the sally -
That’s where the Pejar runs,
Runs like a slip of silver through the valley.
Where awakes the morning
To dapple all the hills,
Where dewdrop, shaken,
Pendant slides and spills,
Where the golden bugles
Sunset calls reveille -
That’s where the Pejar runs,
Runs like a slip of silver through the valley.
Where the springtime blossoms
Like a mellow laughter,
Over all the grasses,
Over ridge and rafter,
Over all the tree-tops,
Down each ferny valley -
That’s where the Pejar runs,
Runs like a slip of silver through the valley.
Where the Pejar rises
Springs the Wollondilly,
Twinned upon the mountains
Babbling brook and ghyllie;
Where the bridge-heads rumble
Side by side they dally -
Out where the Pejar runs,
Runs like a slip of silver through the valley.
poem by Dame Mary Gilmore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Inside Your Head
It's so hard to keep and stay,
Inside your head.
Any wisdom from you runs...
Run, run, runs.
With a running done that comes,
Run, run, runs.
With a running done that comes,
Run, run, runs.
When you open your mouth,
Out it comes...
Something ignorant is done,
Really dumb, dumb.
Something ignorant is done,
Really dumb, dumb.
And you might think your responses are cute.
When you choose something abusive,
To say that's aloof.
And you might think your responses are cute.
When you choose abusive uses,
To say that are loose.
But,
Any wisdom from you runs...
Run, run, runs.
With a running that is done,
Runs, run, run..
With a running that is done,
Run, runs, run.
It's so hard to keep and stay...
Inside your head.
When you open your mouth,
Any face will turn red.
'Cause,
Any wisdom from you runs...
Run, run, runs.
With a running that is done,
Runs, run, run..
With a running that is done,
Run, runs, run.
Any wisdom from you runs.
Run, run, runs.
It's so hard to keep and stay...
Inside your head.
It's so hard to keep and stay...
A wisdom chased away.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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When The Money Runs Out/Another Poem Will Not Save Me
When the money runs out
Another poem will not save me-
When the money runs out
The poems will be a bit less poetic-
They will seem more meaningless-
All the years of writing them
Will seem more a waste and an indulgence-
When the money runs out
And I am working or trying to work
For not enough money
And guilty at being in debt
And frightened at not being able to pay on time
The poems will seem another kind of thing entirely
And I will wonder how I could have once given so much time to something
That does not make a cent-
When the money runs out
The poetry may run out with it
I will be the slave of small sums
And have lost my time and dedication
To what I have loved most.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Pisces Fish
Rowers gliding on the river
Canadian geese crap along the bank
Back wheel of my bike begins to quiver
The chain is wrapped around the crank
Old ladies, who must be doggie training
Walking, throwing balls, chasing all the sheep
While the farmer stands around, and hes complaining
His mad cows are being put to sleep
Im a Pisces fish and the river runs through my soul
Smoke signals from the brewery
Like someone in there found the latest Pope
In a vat of beer that keeps pumping out with fury
While the church bell ringers trangled in his rope
But theres a temple on an island
I think of all the Gods and what they feel
You can only find them in the deepest silence
Ive got to get off of this big wheel
Im a Pisces fish and the river runs through my soul
Im a Pisces fish and the river runs through my soul
And Ill be swimming until I can find those waters
Thats the one unbounded ocean of bliss
Thats flowing through your parents, sons and daughters
But still an easy thing for us to miss
Blades go skimming through the water
I hear the coxon shouting his instructions about
With this crew oh, it could be a tall order
Have we time to sort all these things out ?
Sometimes my life it feels like fiction
Some of the days its really quite serene
Im a living proof of all lifes contradictions
One halfs going where the other halfs just been
And Im a Pisces fish and the river runs through my soul
Im a Pisces fish and the river runs through my soul
Im a Pisces fish and the river runs through my soul
song performed by by George Harrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The River That Never Runs Dry
The River That Never Runs Dry
You are the river that never runs dry, my friend
I'll go where your river flows
Its soothing and gentle sounds
Heals my wounded soul
Kisses the desires of my heart
A joy that will never last.
Let it flow, river.. let it flow
Until our pens and minds meet halfway
I am your other angel, you said so
Reach out to me,
even if we find ourselves miles apart
I'll be your friend no matter what
Look my way
who cares completely and unconditionally
You can always count on me to be with you
What then is a friend, who made me whole
A river who never runs dry of loving me.
A loving tribute to a dear friend
poem by Meggie Gultiano
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Lust
The smell fills her senses, she breathes it in,
She knows it is wrong, that it's a sin,
She turns her back forces herself to run,
She runs away from m the scent she longs for, out of the sun,
She runs farther into the dark, the forest,
She runs faster than ever, into the trees to leave the rest,
The rest of what she wants, of what she longs for,
But she knows she can't let herself loose what shes woked so hard for
She ran, till safe from temtation from the longing,
And slowly her lover caught up the stopped in front of her, wondering,
She made herself continue, with him close behind,
The she smelled a new smell, and she knew what she had to find.
The lion was purched in a tree,
She knew what she had to do, and this kill would be free,
She wouldn't have to deal with the guilt of someone
She only had the feeling of thirst leaving, of being the one who won
Who won the battle between instinct and right, of doing what she must,
She won the battle against wanting human, the battle of lust
poem by Bethany Maxwell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Am Of Ireland
'I am of Ireland,
And the Holy Land of Ireland,
And time runs on,' cried she.
'Come out of charity,
Come dance with me in Ireland.'
One man, one man alone
In that outlandish gear,
One solitary man
Of all that rambled there
Had turned his stately head.
That is a long way off,
And time runs on,' he said,
'And the night grows rough.'
'I am of Ireland,
And the Holy Land of Ireland,
And time runs on,' cried she.
'Come out of charity
And dance with me in Ireland.'
'The fiddlers are all thumbs,
Or the fiddle-string accursed,
The drums and the kettledrums
And the trumpets all are burst,
And the trombone,' cried he,
'The trumpet and trombone,'
And cocked a malicious eye,
'But time runs on, runs on.'
I am of Ireland,
And the Holy Land of Ireland,
And time runs on,' cried she.
"Come out of charity
And dance with me in Ireland.'
poem by William Butler Yeats
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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And... The River Runs Through It
Those sweet memories still linger in my mind
The chain of mountains, The birds singing their song,
The outspread meadows...
And the river that runs through it!
I still see us walking along the river bank holding each other's hand.
And as we lie down on the grass, Interlocked in arms, looking at the sky,
The rock sings for us, a melodious song,
As the river runs through it!
I still go there
Sometimes in dreams and sometimes in real.
The birds are still singing and the rock still sings.
Everything is unchanged except the fact that
You are nowhere to be seen.
You have crossed over to the other side of the river,
The outstretched field of heaven!
And as I sit on the grass, sorrow grips my mind
And... The river runs through it!
poem by Arti Honrao
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To The River
They are master and slave
We are sunlight and shadow
All roads to the river
I am lost. I am saved
Im beloved and betrayed
All roads to the river
Chorus:
And the river runs wide
And the river runs deep
And I spit in the eye
Of safe company
When I dive right down
To the undertow
Well, the deeper I drown
Lord, the higher Ill go
I am whispering dreams
I am howling revolutions
All roads to the river
I am valentine sweet
And I live in this nightmare
All roads to the river
Chorus:
And the river runs wide
The river runs deep
And I spit in the eye
Of safe company
When I dive right down
To the undertow
Well, the deeper I drown
Lord, the higher Ill go
This is nothing like we planned
Thats the way its always been
All roads to the river
I have hated and I have loved
I have prayed and I have sinned
All roads to the river
Chorus:
And the river runs wide
The river runs deep
And I spit in the eye
Of safe company
When I dive right down
To the undertow
Well, the deeper I drown
Lord, the higher Ill go
song performed by by John Mellencamp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Love Riding
such a wild horse
sleeps within
just to gallop
just to move fast
as storm
to ransack stone to dust
such the wild hoofs
to break the jaws
the salient feature of untold apache
wild his move awakes
with transmitted warm
aflames to ratify
the dribbling tracks of tunicked soil
to strip off every silence to flag
the flood of noise
pain and pleasure
the wild
wild
runs to ruin
her fathomic far
as if any further awake
bother not his sleep within
runs with gallop
runs to break
runs to implant
the scream never loose
its pacific passion
Pranab k c
04/08/2012
poem by Pranab K. Chakraborty
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Wild Horse
(r. stewart/a. taylor)
Born and raised
In a motel in new orleans
I ran away
With a hobo and his gypsy friends
We rode a freight train up to cleveland
Across the utah plains
Proud men, troubadours torn and frayed
Sleeping under the stars
While gently strumming guitars
Played the songs of woddy guthrie
And the open road
I knew right then I could never go home
Cause the wild horse runs free forever
Oh yeah, a wild horse runs free forever
And ever and ever
I met a girl
From a family of position and wealth
What a hand
This rambler had been finally dealt
A beauty six years and ten
I felt the walls closing in
Like a swollen river
Bout to overflow
Like a losing gambler I kept on rolling
And a wild horse runs free forever
Yeah yeah yeah
A wild horse runs free forever
The wild horse runs free forever
Yeah yeah yeah
A wild horse runs free forever
Play the guitar
So understand I must go
But Ill drink you one last toast
Oh heres to the heart
And the hands of a man
That come with the dust
And are gone with the wind
May the wild horse run free forever
Yeah the wild horse runs free forever
The wild horse runs free forever
Yeah the wild horse run free forever
Wild guitar, baby, come on, wild
I know, I know, I know, I know
Play it for me, come on.
Yeah, hit it. yeah yeah. let me hear it, yeah.
The wild horse run free ...
song performed by by Rod Stewart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Come, Rise Up
No one runs from the Sun thinking it can be done.
No one runs from the Sun thinking it can be done.
No one runs from the Sun thinking it can be done.
No one runs from the Sun thinking it can be done.
Come...
(And) Rise up!
Sunrise to open up eyes,
On the horizon to clear up skies.
Come...
And rise up!
To ease the preaching on the streets that heat...
Philosophies to cease the evils.
Come...
(And) Rise up!
Sunrise to open up eyes,
On the horizon to clear up skies.
Remove all shadows from faith and hope.
And silence folks with soaked mopes stroking!
No one runs from the Sun thinking it can be done.
No one runs from the Sun thinking it can be done.
No one runs from the Sun thinking it can be done.
No one runs from the Sun thinking it can be done.
Come...
(And) Rise up!
Sunrise to open up eyes,
On the horizon to clear up skies...
To ease the preaching on the streets that heat,
Philosophies...
To cease all evils.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Time...
time
drills
into me
like a screw
inching into me
relentlessly
a trail of frayed edges
as it teaches me
to value him
like the tickler
mother has used
that leave behind
time-capsuled
wam memories
drill, drill, drill
drill into me
with your magic
giving me
your magic
in the form of
mother, brother, sister,
friend, heroes and heroines
as i try to keep up
with your adventure
both in and out
time runs, runs, runs
never waits for me
even when i'm
six feet underground
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Be With Me
(carly simon/zach weisner)
River runs to the sea
Salmon runs to the sea
If you need someone
You can run to me
Flowers grow to the sun
Shines on everyone
If youve lost the warmth
I will give you some
Lay back on the starry night
Feel as big and as small as you are
Well I see who you are
And I like what I see
If you want to be
You can be with me
song performed by by Carly Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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He who runs after good fortune runs away from peace.
News to the king, good news for all
'NEWS to the king, good news for all,'
The corn is trodden, the river runs red.
'News of the battle,' the heralds call,
'We have won the field; we have taken the town;
We have beaten the rebels and crushed them down.'
And the dying lie with the dead.
'Who was my bravest?' quoth the king,
The corn is trodden, the river runs red.
'Whom shall I honour for this great thing?'
'Threescore were best, where none were worst;
But Walter Wendulph was aye the first.'
And the dying lie with the dead.
'What of my husband?' quoth the bride,
The corn is trodden, the river runs red.
'Comes he to-morrow; how long will he bide?'
'Put off thy bridegear, busk thee in black;
Walter Wendulph will never come back.'
And the dying lie with the dead.
poem by Augusta Davies Webster
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Sandpiper
The roaring alongside he takes for granted,
and that every so often the world is bound to shake.
He runs, he runs to the south, finical, awkward,
in a state of controlled panic, a student of Blake.
The beach hisses like fat. On his left, a sheet
of interrupting water comes and goes
and glazes over his dark and brittle feet.
He runs, he runs straight through it, watching his toes.
- Watching, rather, the spaces of sand between them
where (no detail too small) the Atlantic drains
rapidly backwards and downwards. As he runs,
he stares at the dragging grains.
The world is a mist. And then the world is
minute and vast and clear. The tide
is higher or lower. He couldn't tell you which.
His beak is focussed; he is preoccupied,
looking for something, something, something.
Poor bird, he is obsessed!
The millions of grains are black, white, tan, and gray
mixed with quartz grains, rose and amethyst.
poem by Elizabeth Bishop
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Ah, the pleasure, the joy - a big news story that runs and runs, that is played down by some of our journalistic colleagues, saying 'it'll never happen', only to be confirmed by the Home Secretary.
quote by Kamal Ahmed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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