Related quotes: I’m sick, for sure: deep...

Sonnet

I’m sick, for sure: deep darkness holds my heart,
I’m bored with the people and the stories,
And dream of treasures of the kingdoms, glories,
And yataghans, all covered with blood.

It seems to me – and this is no fraud –
A Tartar, squint, was one of my begetters,
That fierce Hun. And the infection’s fetters
Through length of ages, are my steady bond.

I’m mute. I pine… They vanish – walls of home:
There is a sea in spots of silver foam,
The sun of evening – on the stones’ lead,

The city, with blue domes, like its wardens,
With flourish and decor of jasmine gardens,
We’d fought right there… Oh, yes! And I was killed!

poem by Nikolai Stepanovich Gumilev
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Related quotes

When a girl is bored

When a girl is bored no voice is beautiful to her ears

When a girl is bored there is nothing to attract her eyes

When a girl is bored day is night and night is night

When a girl is bored dream and wish is really out of mind

When a girl is bored a star in the sky doesn’t glow

When a girl is bored the city is quiet more than ever

When a girl is bored shadows are searching for light

When a girl is bored the colors are meaningless to her heart

When a girl is bored she cries but expects no tears

When a girl is bored she doesn’t want to hear a word

When a girl is bored the sky isn’t blue anymore

When a girl is bored the world is small for her steps

When a girl is bored no one understands what is in her heart

When a girl is bored though everywhere is dark she never loses her hope

poem by Reihaneh Jalalian
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Montsgur

I stand alone in this desolate space
In death they are truly alive
Massacred innocence, evil took place
The angels were burning inside
Centuries later I wonder why
What secret that they took to their grave
Still burning heretics under our skies
Religion's still burning inside
At the gates and the walls of Montsgur
Blood on the stones of the citadel
At the gates and the walls of Montsgur
Blood on the stones of the citadel
At the gates and the walls of Montsgur
Blood on the stones of the citadel
At the gates and the walls of Montsgur
Blood on the stones of the citadel
As we kill them all so god will know his own
The innocents died for the pope on his throne
Catholic greed and its paranoid zeal
Curse of the grail and the blood of the cross
Templar believers with blood on their hands
Joined in the choruse to kill on demand
Burned at the stake for their soul's liberty
To stand with the cathars to die and be free
The book of old testament crippled and black
Satan his weapon is lust
Living this evil damnation of flesh
Back to the torture of life
At the gates and the walls of Montsgur
Blood on the stones of the citadel
At the gates and the walls of Montsgur
Blood on the stones of the citadel
At the gates and the walls of Montsgur
Blood on the stones of the citadel
At the gates and the walls of Montsgur
Blood on the stones of the citadel
As we kill them all so god know his own
Laugh at the darkness and in god we trust
The eye of the triangle smiling with sin
No passover feast for the cursed within
Facing the sun as they went to their grave
Burn like a dog or you live like a slave
Death is the price for your soul's liberty
To stand with the cathars and to die and be free
At the gates and the walls of Montsgur
Blood on the stones of the citadel
At the gates and the walls of Montsgur
Blood on the stones of the citadel

song performed by by Iron Maiden
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Who Goes Home?

In the city set upon slime and loam
They cry in their parliament 'Who goes home?'
And there comes no answer in arch or dome,
For none in the city of graves goes home.
Yet these shall perish and understand,
For God has pity on this great land.

Men that are men again; who goes home?
Tocsin and trumpeter! Who goes home?
For there's blood on the field and blood on the foam
And blood on the body when Man goes home.
And a voice valedictory . . . Who is for Victory?
Who is for Liberty? Who goes home?

poem by G.K. Chesterton
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Who Goes Home?

poem by Gilbert Keith Chesterton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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One Bright Star

One bright star in the vast unknown
A blazing ember in the night sky shone
Reminding me that I'm not alone...............
One bright star;

One bright star in the evening sky
Holds its own where the angels fly
Anchors the bond between you and I............
One bright star;

One bright star that I wish upon
The first to rise when the sun is gone
Lights my way 'til the early dawn.............
One bright star;

One bright star In the midnight blue
Holds the dreams that I dream of you
Take my hand and I'll lead you to
One bright star.

10/18/2009

poem by Linda Ori
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Tale of Three Cities

New York blasted London blasted
Singapore -
Ripped off each other's metaphoric balls,
Crumbling walls.

Priapic city monoliths -
Blue-sky scraping bastards -
Shout about their height (but really length) .

V8 arseholes didn't care -
Pumping shit into the air,
So long as they were always there to
Fart aloud a smoggy cloud,
Laughing at the weak asthmatic,
Humoured that it seems traumatic.

Watch the greedy cities oozing
Chair-bound fat committees, though they
Look a bunch of titties as they
Waffle on about the pound.

Ever thought to look around and see
That they were dead?

city city city city city city
city city city city city city
city city city city city city
city city city city city city
city city city city city city
city city city city city city

poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I'm Bored

I'm bored
I'm the chairman of the bored,
I'm a lengthy monologue
I'm livin' like a dog
I'm bored
I bore myself to sleep at night
I bore myself in broad daylight coz
I'm bored
Just another slimey bore
I'm free to bore my well-bought friends
And spend my cash until the end coz
I'm bored
I'm bored
I'm the chairman of the board
I'm sick
I'm sick of all my kicks
I'm sick of all the stiffs
I'm sick of all the dips
I'm bored
I bore myself to sleep at night
I bore myself in broad daylight coz
I'm bored
I'm bored
Just another dirty bore
All right doll-face
Come on and bore me
I'm sick
I'm sick of all my kicks
I'm sick of all the stiffs
I'm sick of all the dips
I'm sick
I'm sick when I go to sleep at night
I'm still sick in the broad daylight coz
I'm bored
I'm bored
I'm the chairman of the. . .
BORED

song performed by by Iggy Pop
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On Sitting Down to Read King Lear Once Again

O golden-tongued Romance with serene lute!
Fair plumed Syren! Queen of far away!
Leave melodizing on this wintry day,
Shut up thine olden pages, and be mute:
Adieu! for once again the fierce dispute,
Betwixt damnation and impassion'd clay
Must I burn through; once more humbly assay
The bitter-sweet of this Shakespearian fruit.
Chief Poet! and ye clouds of Albion,
Begetters of our deep eternal theme,
When through the old oak forest I am gone,
Let me not wander in a barren dream,
But when I am consumed in the fire,
Give me new Phoenix wings to fly at my desire.

poem by John Keats
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet. Written Before Re-Read King Lear

poem by John Keats
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet On Sitting Down To Read King Lear Once Again

O GOLDEN tongued Romance, with serene lute!
Fair plumed Syren, Queen of far-away!
Leave melodizing on this wintry day,
Shut up thine olden pages, and be mute:
Adieu! for, once again, the fierce dispute
Betwixt damnation and impassion 'd clay
Must I burn through; once more humbly assay
The bitter-sweet of this Shakespearian fruit:
Chief Poet! and ye clouds of Albion,
Begetters of our deep eternal theme!
When through the old oak Forest I am gone,
Let me not wander in a barren dream,
But, when I am consumed in the fire,
Give me new Phoenix wings to fly at my desire.

poem by John Keats
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Written Before Re-Reading King Lear

O golden-tongued Romance with serene lute!
Fair plumed Syren! Queen of far away!
Leave melodizing on this wintry day,
Shut up thine olden pages, and be mute.
Adieu! for once again the fierce dispute
Betwixt damnation and impassioned clay
Must I burn through; once more humbly assay
The bitter-sweet of this Shakespearian fruit.
Chief Poet! and ye clouds of Albion,
Begetters of our deep eternal theme,
When through the old oak Forest I am gone,
Let me not wander in a barren dream,
But when I am consumed in the Fire,
Give me new Phoenix wings to fly at my desire.

poem by John Keats
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lead Them Home My Dreams

Intro:
Lead them home
Lead them home my dreams,
My dreams
Verse 1:
Some people stand
Some choose not to understand
Some people fight (fight, fight)
Some people dream
Some people wake up
In the middle of the night
With the eyes of a tiger and a childs curiosity
Cant turn from my conscience when its starin at me
Chorus:
Lead them home
Lead them home my dreams
You can hear
When you disguise whispers as screams
(lead them home my, lead them home my...dreams)
Verse 2:
Some people climb
Some people wait for time to pass
Looking for a miracle (a miracle)
Some people could care less
Some people dwell on the impossible
And I always remember the times I let myself slide
And I put all the bad things like money
Far lower on the list than pride
Bring me home
Bring them home my dreams (lead the home)
Bring them home my dreams
(bring the home my, lead them home my)
You can hear, you can hear (you can hear)
When you disguise whispers as screams
(lead them home my, lead them home my)
Bring them home (bring them home, bring them home)
Bring them home my dreams
(lead them home my, bring them home my)
You can hear, you can hear when you
Disguise whispers as screams
(lead them home my, bring them home my...dreams)
Verse 3:
Wait a lifetime
Then my wish will drag on slowly
Come into ones own
At the time of conception (ooooo...)
Give in over time
You may as well change your mind
Now is when I see the light (I see it)
Im gonna touch it, grab it -
Make it mine.....
Bring them home.....
Bring them home.....
Lead them home (lead the home)
(bring them home my, lead the home my)
(lead the home, lead them home, lead them home)
Lead the home (lead them home)
Lead them home my dreams
(lead them home my, lead them home my)
Disguise whispers as screams - yeah!
Lead them home (lead them home)
Lead them home (lead them home)
Lead them home (lead them home)
Lead them home (ooooo...)
Lead them home
Lead them home my, my, my dreams.....
Lead them home my dreams
Bring them back to me
Lead them home my dreams
Oh-whoa-whoa-whoa.....

song performed by by Debbie Gibson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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where are your powers Babylon?

Illustrious Babylon
where are your powers now?
city of fame
city of gold and silver
city of a famous name
where are your powers now?
city of wonders
empire of sin
Babylon
city of ruins

mighty Babylon
city of prowess
empire of old
empire of supremacy
rich with stolen gold
where are you now?
city of the hanging gardens
city holding the righteous captive
where are your powers Babylon?
city of desolate wastes

ferocious Babylon
look out over the valley
Cyrus the great of Persia
with his army of men
and Darius the Mede
with his army of men
diverting the great river Euphrates
and sneaking under your walls
your 'impenetrible walls
Babylon
city of ruins

Where are your powers
King Nebuchadnezzar?
your colossal gate is open
your subjects are drunk
drunk with wine and blood
unaware of approaching destruction
living their normal course of life
where are you now Babylon?
heaped in ruin and desolation
...forever
now just a dry desert plain
and the wind goes...hush...

poem by Allen Steble
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I wanted to know What’s in my heart

I wanted to know
What’s in my heart
I took a knife
Opened it apart
Lot of blood
I saw
Some deep red
Some deep black
I looked at the red
It was full of
Love and affection
Black was full of
Hate and infection
I was happy and crappy
Thought for a while
Decided to change my style
Live with love and affection
Remove the blood
Of hate and infection
Make all the blood red
Never remember
The word hatred

poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Silver Bells

(Jay Livingston/Ray Evans)
City sidewalks, busy sidewalks
Dressed in holiday style
In the air there's a feeling of Christmas
Children laughing, people passing
Meeting smile after smile
And on every street corner you'll hear
Silver bells, silver bells
It's Christmas time in the city
Ring-a-ling, hear them ring
Soon it will be Christmas Day (Eve)
City street lights, even stoplights
Blinking bright red and green
As the shoppers rush home with their treasures
Hear the snow crunch
See the kids bunch
This is Santa's big scene
And above all the bustle you'll hear
Silver bells, (Silver bells)
Silver bells, (Silver bells)
It's Christmas-time in the city
Ring-a-ling, hear them ring
Soon it will be Christmas Day
Soon it will be Christmas Day

song performed by by Jo Dee Messina
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Song in Time of Order. 1852

PUSH hard across the sand,
For the salt wind gathers breath;
Shoulder and wrist and hand,
Push hard as the push of death.

The wind is as iron that rings,
The foam-heads loosen and flee;
It swells and welters and swings,
The pulse of the tide of the sea.

And up on the yellow cliff
The long corn flickers and shakes;
Push, for the wind holds stiff,
And the gunwale dips and rakes.

Good hap to the fresh fierce weather,
The quiver and beat of the sea!
While three men hold together,
The kingdoms are less by three.

Out to the sea with her there,
Out with her over the sand;
Let the kings keep the earth for their share!
We have done with the sharers of land.

They have tied the world in a tether,
They have bought over God with a fee;
While three men hold together,
The kingdoms are less by three.

We have done with the kisses that sting,
The thief’s mouth red from the feast,
The blood on the hands of the king
And the lie at the lips of the priest.

Will they tie the winds in a tether,
Put a bit in the jaws of the sea?
While three men hold together,
The kingdoms are less by three.

Let our flag run out straight in the wind!
The old red shall be floated again
When the ranks that are thin shall be thinned,
When the names that were twenty are ten;

When the devil’s riddle is mastered
And the galley-bench creaks with a Pope,
We shall see Buonaparte the bastard
Kick heels with his throat in a rope.

While the shepherd sets wolves on his sheep
And the emperor halters his kine,
While Shame is a watchman asleep
And Faith is a keeper of swine,

Let the wind shake our flag like a feather,
Like the plumes of the foam of the sea!
While three men hold together,
The kingdoms are less by three.

All the world has its burdens to bear,
From Cayenne to the Austrian whips;
Forth, with the rain in our hair
And the salt sweet foam in our lips;

In the teeth of the hard glad weather,
In the blown wet face of the sea;
While three men hold together,
The kingdoms are less by three.

poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Table For Two

Beautiful evening, red sky at night –
A warm greeting for a perfect venue.
Silver spoons and candles glint with delight,
As our fingers danced around the menu.
Perfect, utterly sublime is the food.
Lots to admire about the decor –
A bottle of red wine sweetens the mood,
While sunset’s leaving through an open door.
Glowing candles against plum-coloured walls.
Soft notes float from a mesmeric guitar –
As dusk wanders from view when moonlight calls,
Silver buttons on blue velvet – a star.
Timeless dinner under the cherry moon –
The guitar sweetly plays another tune.

poem by Orville Phillips
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poem by Gayle Sweeney
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The House Of Dust: Part 03: 01: As evening falls

As evening falls,
And the yellow lights leap one by one
Along high walls;
And along black streets that glisten as if with rain,
The muted city seems
Like one in a restless sleep, who lies and dreams
Of vague desires, and memories, and half-forgotten pain . . .
Along dark veins, like lights the quick dreams run,
Flash, are extinguished, flash again,
To mingle and glow at last in the enormous brain
And die away . . .
As evening falls,
A dream dissolves these insubstantial walls,—
A myriad secretly gliding lights lie bare . . .
The lovers rise, the harlot combs her hair,
The dead man's face grows blue in the dizzy lamplight,
The watchman climbs the stair . . .
The bank defaulter leers at a chaos of figures,
And runs among them, and is beaten down;
The sick man coughs and hears the chisels ringing;
The tired clown
Sees the enormous crowd, a million faces,
Motionless in their places,
Ready to laugh, and seize, and crush and tear . . .
The dancer smooths her hair,
Laces her golden slippers, and runs through the door
To dance once more,
Hearing swift music like an enchantment rise,
Feeling the praise of a thousand eyes.

As darkness falls
The walls grow luminous and warm, the walls
Tremble and glow with the lives within them moving,
Moving like music, secret and rich and warm.
How shall we live tonight? Where shall we turn?
To what new light or darkness yearn?
A thousand winding stairs lead down before us;
And one by one in myriads we descend
By lamplit flowered walls, long balustrades,
Through half-lit halls which reach no end.

poem by Conrad Potter Aiken
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Prelude

As evening falls,
And the yellow lights leap one by one
Along high walls
And along black streets that glisten as if with rain,
The muted city seems
Like one in a restless sleep who lies and dreams
Of vague desires, vague memories, and half-forgotten pain
Along dark veins like lights the quick dreams run,
Flash, are extinguished, flash again,
To mingle and glow at last in the enormous brain
And die away
As evening falls,
A dream dissolves these insubstantial walls,
A myriad secretly gliding lights lie bare.
The lover rises, the harlot combs her hair,
The dead man's face grows blue in the dizzy lamplight,
The watchman climbs the stair
The bank-defaulter leers at a chaos of figures
And runs among them and is beaten down ;
The sick man coughs, and hears the chisels ringing;
The tired clown
Sees the enormous crowd—a million faces
Motionless in their places,
Ready to laugh, and seize, and crush, and tear ....
The dancer smooths her hair,
Laces her golden slippers and runs through the door
To dance once more,
Hearing swift music like an enchantment rise,
Feeling the praise of a thousand eyes.

As darkness falls,
The walls grow luminous and warm, the walls
Tremble and glow with the lives within them moving,
Moving like music, secret and rich and warm.
How shall we live tonight, where shall we turn?
To what new light or darkness yearn ?
A thousand winding stairs lead down before us;
And one by one in myriads we descend
By lamp-lit flowered walls, long balustrades,
Through half-lit halls which reach no end.

poem by Conrad Potter Aiken
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Sonnet

Related quotes

When a girl is bored

Montsgur

Who Goes Home?

Who Goes Home?

One Bright Star

Tale of Three Cities

I'm Bored

On Sitting Down to Read King Lear Once Again

Sonnet. Written Before Re-Read King Lear

Sonnet On Sitting Down To Read King Lear Once Again

Written Before Re-Reading King Lear

Lead Them Home My Dreams

where are your powers Babylon?

I wanted to know What’s in my heart

Silver Bells

A Song in Time of Order. 1852

Table For Two

Linda And Friends' Hampton Beach Gardens

The House Of Dust: Part 03: 01: As evening falls

Prelude

En.Citatepedia®.ro

Sonnet

Related quotes

When a girl is bored

Montsgur

Who Goes Home?

Who Goes Home?

One Bright Star

Tale of Three Cities

I'm Bored

On Sitting Down to Read King Lear Once Again

Sonnet. Written Before Re-Read King Lear

Sonnet On Sitting Down To Read King Lear Once Again

Written Before Re-Reading King Lear

Lead Them Home My Dreams

where are your powers Babylon?

I wanted to know What’s in my heart

Silver Bells

A Song in Time of Order. 1852

Table For Two

Linda And Friends' Hampton Beach Gardens

The House Of Dust: Part 03: 01: As evening falls

Prelude

En.Citatepedia^®.ro