Marrakech Below The Waterline Schweppes Symphony
Blue-blooded sun at the horizon
Circle of wind
In a crystal flute
Your mellow tone
Lustrous
Origin
Anno
Nazareth
In the stereo-mezzanine floor
Your eyes as shooting stars
Into the desert
Your Scythian tunic
Your peachy lips
In the cool of the pool
You are moonbathing
On a headed notepaper
The curve of your shoulder
poem by Nicolas Grenier
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Related quotes
Stereo
Written by gerry beckley and jimmy webb, 1984
Found on perspective.
Stereo
We hear both sides
We sympathize
We live our lives in stereo
The left and the right
The dark and the light
We wrestle with the balance
We change our tone
We leave our phone
And tape record our absence
In lovin memory
Stereo
Were livin it in stereo
We fix it so our love is high fidelity
Mix it so we never lose the melody
We try to equalize our lives in stereo
So on we go
From side to side
As we divide
A single life in stereo
The far and the wide
We override
The feedback from the others
The unkind phrase
We lock in phase
Were only really listening to the stereo
Stereo
Were livin it in stereo
We tune it till we have a perfect parody
Commune with such a fine-cut, crystal clarity
It seems to symbolize
Our lives in stereo
Oo (la, la, la, la, la, la), yeah, yeah, yeah
Oo (la, la, la, la, la, la), yeah, yeah, yeah
Oo (la, la, la, la-a)
Stereo
Stereo
We fix it so our love is high fidelity
Mix it so we never lose the melody
We try to equalize our lives in stereo
Stereo
Stereo
We fix it so our love is high fidelity
Mix it so we never lose the melody
We try to equalize our lives in stereo
song performed by by America
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Narcissus
Since the great, glad greeting of dawn from the eastern hills
Triumphant ran with a shout to the woods below,
With the song in his ears of the clearly clamoring rills
He has lain, like a man of snow,
Slender and straight as the joyous immortals are made,
Born of woman, but born with the grace of a god.
Unheeded airs, caressingly cool, have played
With his hair, and the nymphs have trod
Close to his side, and have kissed him, waiting to flee—
But Narcissus, what recketh he?
In the pool where the lithe fish flashes and slips
From his covert to snap at the careless, fluttering flies,
Narcissus has seen the curve of his drooping lips,
And, like mirrored miniature heavens, his shining eyes.
And a flush like a dew-dipped rose has dyed the pool,
He has laid his cheek to the ripples cool;
Brow touches brow, lips lips, and his eyes of violet roam
Down through the crystal depths. In the darkening dome
The stars shine forth from their faint, far ways,
Trimming their lamps; and, from the purple haze,
The moon, cloud-veiled, her circle just complete,
Wan as a travail-spent mother, plants her feet
On the carpeted hills, and fearful of change
Seeks her reflected face in the sea’s southward range—
But Narcissus, what recketh he?
Narcissus, Narcissus, where is thy boyish bloom,
Thy long, slim form that lay beside the pool,
And the lips cold smiling to their smiling image cool?
Narcissus!
Only a strange, indefinite perfume,
And a dim white spot in the night when soft airs blow;
A flower, bending, bending low
Its petals and its yellow heart to where the waters flow;
Its scent the winds have borne
Through the pearl-gray east to the arms of morn,
To faint and to die in the wakening light—
But of time’s swift flight, the dawn, and the noon, and the night,
The sun’s gold glory, the moon’s white mystery,
Narcissus, what recketh he?
poem by Guy Wetmore Carryl from The Garden of Years and Other Poems (1896)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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In A Mellow Tone
In a mellow tone
Feeling fancy free
And Im not alone
Ive got company
Everythings ok
The live long day
With this mellow song
I cant go wrong
In a mellow tone
Thats the way to live
If you mope and groan
Somethings gotta give
Just go your way
And laugh and play
Theres joy unknown
In a mellow tone
(scat)
In a mellow tone
(bridge)
In a mellow tone
Feeling fancy free
And Im not alone
Ive got company
Everythings ok
The live long day
With this mellow song
I cant go wrong
In a mellow tone
Thats the way to live
If you mope and groan
Somethings gotta give
Just go your way
And laugh and play
Theres joy unknown
In a mellow tone
In a mellow tone
In a mellow tone
song performed by by Ella Fitzgerald
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Island In The Sand
You are walking across the desert,
under a hot blazing sun;
you eyes search the horizon
for an oasis somewhere.
Places of palm trees,
and a pool of cool water there,
a little island in the sand.
Finally you see something,
you run headlong towards it,
dive into the cool water.
This is what you think you see,
but you end up bathing in the hot sand,
it is only a mirage you see.
Love can also be,
very much like that,
island in the sand.
Once you get close,
it may also disappear.
14 June 2007
poem by David Harris
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Winter in the sky
Winter rose in the sky
north wind shook
the tinsel of stars
from the porch of the Milky Way
and with a silver tinkling,
crivetz gathered the snow
from the shooting stars.
It is snowing with great snow flakes
over my heart star,
over the faded times' charm,
lonely snow eddy,
leaden twilight spreads
over cool crystal sparkles.
poem by Valentin Gabriel Cristea
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Dream River
WIND-SILVERED willows hedge the stream,
And all within is hushed and cool.
The water, in an endless dream,
Goes sliding down from pool to pool.
And every pool a sapphire is,
From shadowy deep to sunlit edge,
Ribboned around with irises
And cleft with emerald spears of sedge.
O, every morn the winds are stilled,
The sunlight falls in amber bars.
O, every night the pools are filled
With silver brede of shaken stars.
O, every morn the sparrow flings
His elfin trills athwart the hush,
And here unseen at eve there sings
One crystal-throated hermit-thrush.
poem by Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
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Japa-yajna
Carrier wave; sine curve; you see it
on the heartscan lifescreen
in the intensive care ward
as if with no regard for you
it’s self-sufficient; sufficient to the self;
the same curve that the flute’s note makes onscreen,
pure as Krishna’s smile; his lips
making breath into sound
hear that, hear that which
runs day and night; repetition
that always never does repeat
and only when you’re still
will you know with Krishna
the sound of inner sacrifice
that never ends and yet
so pure it’s given beyond sought;
flute’s sound beyond all sound;
how still the room is now.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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When You Finally Have Nothing
the soil has gone barren
rivers run dry
blue clouds fade
the horizon is gray
your hands have nothing
and it is this time
when you can discern the
true color of
your surrounding
when your eyes show the
sleepless moment
you see them moving away
from you
you thank that moment
when the pool becomes crystal
clear
even the dry leaves
that leave sooner
shall tell the truth
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Learning Curve
I reach with my eyes
The light curve and the variations in light intensity
From eclipsing binary stars.
The time becomes a phase
I touch with my soul
The curve of love between me and you
Ephemerally being, I still believe in eternal.
I carry the new life.
The curve of love, like a painful river
Between death and life
I can swim in its water of faith and piety
To reach the understanding.
We are getting old
And all we can do
Is to deep-freeze our memories.
We learn to love.
Catholic and Orthodox,
Pentecostals and Baptists,
We learn that only love can change our souls,
We learn to become eternal.
I reach the curve of rainbow with my eyes,
When the water droplets after the rain
Sent out colors at different angles.
The water droplets are prisms, my eyes are prisms.
I understand why God made a promise
To the people
That 'never again shall there be a flood to destroy the earth.'
Making the rainbow the sign of His covenant.
And we ought to do the same thing-to make promises to God.
Between the light curve decomposed into rainbow colors
And the mobile marine blue curve of the horizon,
God's tears
Falls to earth for our life.
I let the soul to soar to the High
And I remove the sin blocks that keep me stuck.
I understand the primordial sin.
I know that we are descendents
Of Adam and Eve,
But we are also
God's sons and daughters.
I understand the learning curve.
poem by Marieta Maglas
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Writing Melodies To Dust Off Wind
sit at keyboard slave in serfdom
writing melodies to dust off wind
sing crystal mellow memories
sit at table scribe with candle
illuminating pieces of parchment
sow seeds of enlightenment on wind
sit on rock time lost flute play
play melodies on mystical reed pipe
each note soft dances on the wind
sit on throne prince of peace in heaven
may radiant holy spirit infuse bless all creation
smile sweeps across cosmos on solar wind
poem by Terence George Craddock
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The Blue And The Red
THE BLUE AND THE RED
Red's my soul
Because of the pain
You let me on the blue road.
But this road was glowing.
Blue, blue like the roof
Of my house, like the tears
Which ran down your neck.
Red was your neck when
I touched the curve of your shoulder.
Red like your eyes after your tears.
But your eyes, before they carressed
My loving heart, your eyes were blue.
You drove in compact sreets of Red Hall.
Furtive memories. Blue furtive memories.
Feeling blues. You read in my thought.
Blue's my soul. Red your dress,
Walking on the village green
poem by Harry the cannible Dunggis
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The Beds of Fleur-de-Lys
HIGH-LYING, sea-blown stretches of green turf,
Wind-bitten close, salt-colored by the sea,
Low curve on curve spread far to the cool sky,
And, curving over them as long they lie,
Beds of wild fleur-de-lys.
Wide-flowing, self-sown, stealing near and far,
Breaking the green like islands in the sea;
Great stretches at your feet, and spots that bend
Dwindling over the horizon’s end,—
Wild beds of fleur-de-lys.
The light keen wind streams on across the lifts,
Their wind of western springtime by the sea;
The close turf smiles unmoved, but over her
Is the far-flying rustle and sweet stir
In beds of fleur-de-lys.
And here and there across the smooth, low grass
Tall maidens wander, thinking of the sea;
And bend, and bend, with light robes blown aside,
For the blue lily-flowers that bloom so wide,—
The beds of fleur-de-lys.
poem by Charlotte Perkins Stetson Gilman
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Harmattan
Sahara desert is coming with its dry wind
Dry wind that desiccates the skin
See it come with its cold wind
Cold wind that makes oil sleep in tin
It comes to dry the lips
To force the lips to tear
Then the tongue licks the lips
To reduce its burden to bear
Sahara desert is here with its moistless wind
Our fields are loosing its fresh foliage
Our moist soil is now arid and drained
It makes all things look its old age
The young wrinkles like the old
And their future old nature unfold
poem by YoungBen Ulebor
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My Shooting Star
In the abyss of my world
You are a shooting star
I appreciate the beauty
The beauty from afar
You light up my horizon
By showing me a path
A path of no regret
Or hatred or wrath
You hover around the sky
I wander around the land
I feel like a desert
With you as my sand
Coz you are a shooting star
You are MY shooting star
And I'll be looking up to you
No matter where you are
(2nd April 2009) - My 11th Poem...
The Years Gone Bye
Standing outside
She can smell
The cool air seeping through her nose
Gladly feeling the intoxicating
Caress of the wind on her face
Watching the starlit sky
So peaceful
Eyes gloomy with tears
As memories cut through her
Like a sharp jab of a spear
As she watch the forgotten footage
From the years gone bye
Roll up in the dark sky above
As a little girl
She would enviously watch
The magnificent beauty
Of the tiny stars
Always happy
Forever twinkling at the distance
Comforting to her
For they graced her with their presence.
Shooting stars crossing the sky
Her face would beam up in smile
Innocent and sincere
She would never make a wish
For she had it all
The motherly embrace of the sky
And the friendly company of the moon
Just gazing deep into
Its luminuos beauty
It would send her into a trance
Where she would surf the open sky
Wandering from
Star to star
Listening to the tales
Of their origin
Giggling along
As they trace their
Mispent youths
But the years
Came and go
And she lost the happy
Little girl
Along with her innocent
Sincere smile
And the warmth in her eyes
Stolen from the sun
On summer days
With each morning
Spent watching the golden sun rise to the blue sky
Then growing up
To forget all that mattered to her
And lost herself
To the years gone bye
poem by Nontobeko Dlamini
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The Desert Wind
I went with happy heart (how happy!) a while since
Behind my camel flocks,
Piping all day where the Nile pastures end
And the white sand begins
Among the rocks.
The wheeling eagles mocked me high there from the skies,
The red blast of the desert wind
Hath seared mine eyes.
I saw a lady pass, (what lady?) none could tell,
Nor of her tribe nor race,
Of Roum or Franjistan or Fars or Hind;
None knew. But I knew well
That her sweet face
Had blossomed first within the gates of Paradise.
The red blast of the desert wind
Hath seared mine eyes.
Within a tasselled frame, rich wrought, she sat and sang
A song of love so sweet,
That beast and bird and serpent came behind,
And lizard with shut fang
And faltering feet.
My flocks strayed after them, and I who heard likewise.
The red blast of the desert wind
Hath seared mine eyes.
Upon a camel tall (how tall!) she rode by me
Enrobed in white and red,
And veiled to her bright eyes in bands that bind
But hide not all souls see;
And on her head
A crown entwined of wool with gold and various dyes.
The red blast of the desert wind
Hath seared mine eyes.
Out to the wilderness, all day, we followed her.
By winding paths untrod,
O'er rock and plain none knew nor I could find,
Although my home was there;
And still we rode.
The creatures tired and stopped; but I went on with sighs.
The red blast of the desert wind
Hath seared mine eyes.
We came to a deep pool (how deep!) I knew of none
In all that land accursed,
A pool of waters clear with white shells lined,
And there we lighted down
And suaged our thirst,
And bathed our weary limbs, we two without disguise.
The red blast of the desert wind
Hath seared mine eyes.
Upon the brink we sat (ah me!) alone, we two,
In that fair empty place.
I kissed her hands and told her all my mind,
And dared her grace to sue,
Her utter grace.
And she with smiles said ``yea'' to my too blest surprise.
The red blast of the desert wind
Hath seared mine eyes.
Ah me, that night of stars, those bridal stars of heaven!
Ah me, those eyes of hers,
So sweet, so near, of that same starry kind,
Which drank their light ungiven,
(Poor blinded stars!)
And left them dark as they have left me wise.
The red blast of the desert wind
Hath seared mine eyes.
How shall I tell it? All three months of happy love
I lived with her, blest queen,
Fed on sole joy and what God's care might send
Of milk and treasure--trove
Of sorrels green,
And roots and tubers fine and samh which we made prize.
The red blast of the desert wind
Hath seared mine eyes.
Since when I search the Earth (sad Earth!) in vain to win
Once more her wondrous voice,
Which led me forth to doom and left me blind,
Bereft of flocks and kin
And homely joys,
Of wife and children's love and to behold the skies.
The red blast of the desert wind
Hath seared mine eyes.
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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The Blue And The Red
Red's my soul
Because of the pain
You let me on the blue road.
But this road was glowing.
Blue, blue like the roof
Of my house, like the tears
Which ran down your neck.
Red was your neck when
I touched the curve of your shoulder.
Red like your eyes after your tears.
But your eyes, before they carressed
My loving heart, your eyes were blue.
You drove in compact sreets of Red Hall.
Furtive memories. Blue furtive memories.
Feeling blues. You read in my thought.
Blue's my soul. Red your dress,
Walking on the village green.
Christian MERLE
poem by christian MERLE
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We'll Wish
Put your head on my shoulder
and we'll watch the stars tonight.
We'll wish upon the shooting stars
for heaven's love delight.
We'll rest against the kissing tree
just the two of us, you and me.
We'll watch the moon rise
as night comes to call,
feel the warmth of our bodies
if any cold wind should fall.
5 May 2012
poem by David Harris
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At The Bomb Testing Site
At noon in the desert a panting lizard
waited for history, its elbows tense,
watching the curve of a particular road
as if something might happen.
It was looking at something farther off
than people could see, an important scene
acted in stone for little selves
at the flute end of consequences.
There was just a continent without much on it
under a sky that never cared less.
Ready for a change, the elbows waited.
The hands gripped hard on the desert.
poem by William Stafford
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Santa Ana Winds
Here in sothern california there is a weather condition known as the
Santa ana winds.
Fire wind oh desert wind
She was born in a desert breeze
And wind her way
Through canyon way
From the desert to the silvery sea
In every direction
See the perfection
And see the san gabriel mountain scene
Santa ana winds keep blowin across my eyes
Santa ana winds keep blowin across my eyes
Fill my sails
Oh desert wind
And hold the waves high for me
Then I will come
And test my skill
Where the santa ana winds blow free
In waves of elation
My part of creation
Becoming one with the boundless sea
Santa ana winds keep blowin across my eyes
Santa ana winds keep blowin across my eyes
I am the wind
Oh desert wind
On my pilgrimage to the sea
I will prevail
I will not fail
To bring life into humanity
My song is creation
(? ? ? )the nation
Whispering the wisdom and its purity
Santa ana winds keep blowin across my eyes
Santa ana winds keep blowin across my eyes
Santa ana winds keep blowin across my eyes
Santa ana winds keep blowin across my eyes
Santa ana winds...
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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