I Have To Leave
I came to camp here
On the riverside
Overlooking the mountain
Where I would say ho
And it would reverberate.
I had no companion
Till every morning
The birds woke me up
And made friends
I had no lover
Till the moon's silver
Crowned the ripples
And made love
I never knew
When quietly they came
And dug into me!
Now I don't want to
Leave the camp
My dreams don't spin
Tales of other world anymore!
I came to camp here
I have to wind up and leave.
poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
My May 2006
May is dead,
And a trouble has made leave.
No more school days do I have to dread,
But rather summer plans to achieve.
Finals have settled in the past,
And thank god for that.
Hopefully the summer will long last,
And give me time with my friends to chat.
Don’t forget the drama of “Brevard Running Camp”,
Or the fights fought over track.
It seemed like it was a well lit lamp,
Whose bulb would just not crack.
But o well for training in the summer,
Honestly who cares?
To train in order to go to UMC camp is surely a bummer,
And I have no choice because the fights have their wares.
We shall see what this summer has to bring,
Especially now with Mallory in town.
Hopefully this summer shall sing,
A song of laughter and joy without frown.
poem by Benjamin A. Wellman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I have a naturally camp sensibility and a camp sense of humour. I love the icons that gay people love.
quote by Siobhan Fahey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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But when we came out of camp, that's when I first realized that being in camp, that being Japanese-American, was something shameful.
quote by George Takei
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I didn't equate a POW camp with a concentration camp.
quote by Larry Hovis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Many of our soldiers are stationed at Camp Coyote just south of the Iraqi border. This is how you know we have a strong army, when you can actually tell your enemy exactly where your camp is and what its name is.
quote by Jon Stewart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Acting school was summer camp, and I needed concentration camp. I had so many different ideas swirling between culture and how to tie things together.
quote by Ajay Naidu
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I hate newspapermen. They come into camp and pick up their camp rumors and print them as facts. I regard them as spies, which, in truth, they are.
quote by William Tecumseh Sherman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Memory
O camp of flowers, with poplars girdled round,
The guardians of life's soft and purple bud!
O silver spring, beside whose brimming flood
My dreaming childhood its Elysium found!
O happy hours with love and fancy crowned,
Whose horn of plenty flatteringly subdued
My heart into a trance, whence, with a rude
And horrid blast, fate came my soul to hound:
Who was the goddess who empowered you all
Thus to bewitch me? Out of wasting snow
And lily-leaves her headdress should be made!
Weep, my poor lute! nor on Astræa call.
She will not smile, nor I, who mourn below,
Till I, a shade in heaven, clasp her, a shade.
poem by Erik Johan Stagnelius
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At the Okavango swamp
It was in the Okavango swamp
that the dark ghoul came at night
and passed so near
that I could smell its stinking breath.
Every morning the four-toed tracks
lay in the sand
everywhere in the camp
where it came to break into
what ever it could find.
With powerful jaws and premolars
made for crushing bones
it gnawed into anything
that it could lay jaws on.
Till one night that the dog like
brown-grey carnivore
with black spots
got a shocking surprise
and I saw yellow eyes glowing
while it draw closer and closer
while crying
like a hysterical human laughing
and walked straight into
an electrified wire
fitted to a couple of landrover
and four by four batteries
running around the camp
and blue white sparks flew
and covered that hyena
like a character
in a computer game
it was covered in lightning
and it howled and howled
rising in pitch
and never came back again.
poem by Gert Strydom
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O Camp Of Flowers
O camp of flowers, with poplars girdled round,
Gray guardians of life's soft and purple bud!
O silver spring, beside whose brimming flood
My pensive childhood its Elysium found!
O happy hours by love and fancy crowned,
Whose horn of plenty flatteringly subdued
My heart into a trance, whence, with a rude
And horrid blast, fate came my soul to hound!
Who was the goddess that empowered you all
Thus to bewitch me? Out of wasting snow
And lily-leaves her head-dress should be made!
Weep, my poor lute! nor on Astraea call,
She will not smile, nor I, who mourn below,
Till I, a shade in heaven, clasp her, a shade.
poem by Erik Johan Stagnelius
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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We all laughed. It was more like that whole thing that I was talking about earlier. You go to training camp and after the season is over, you might not see the guys for six months until you go back to training camp.
quote by Bubba Smith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In the last camp they all ate grass, until the authorities forbade them to pull it up. They were accustomed to having the fruits of their little communal gardens stolen by the guards, after they had done all the work; but at the last camp everything was stolen.
quote by Martha Gellhorn
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Simple Simon
Simon found love, in love he thinks he found himself
Only has a heart for her and her alone
He walks down crowded streets and doesn't feel alone
Oh, never alone
Walks in space with his feet firmly on the ground
Camp on love sign people I talk about
Johnny knows love song people I talk about
Simon, oh oh oh
Simon, oh oh oh
Camp on love sign people I talk about
Johnny knows love song people I talk about
Simon, oh oh oh
Simon, oh oh oh
Well she's just a simple girl, yeah
Spends her time on crossword games and cigarettes, ah
She lives all alone in a military zone where sam's can't get in
Facts and evidence, she probably give you no clues away
No clues away
Camp on love sign people I talk about
Johnny knows love song people I talk about
Simon, oh oh oh
Simon, oh oh oh
Camp on love sign people I talk about
Johnny knows love song people I talk about
Simon, oh oh oh
Simon, oh oh oh
oh oh oh oh oh, oh oh oh oh oh
oh oh oh oh oh, oh oh oh oh oh
oh oh oh oh oh, oh oh oh oh oh
Camp on love sign people I talk about
Johnny knows love song people I talk about
Simon, oh oh oh
Simon, oh oh oh
Camp on love sign people I talk about
Johnny knows love song people I talk about
Simon, oh oh oh
Simon, oh oh oh
Simon found love, in love he thinks he found himself
Only has a heart for her and her alone
He walks down crowded streets and doesn't feel alone, oh never alone
Walks in space with his feet firmly on the ground
Camp on love sign people I talk about
Johnny knows love song people I talk about
Simon, oh oh oh
Simon, oh oh oh
Camp on love sign people I talk about
Johnny knows love song people I talk about
Simon, oh oh oh
Simon, oh oh oh
Submitted by Michael Hack
song performed by by INXS
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You Dont Have To Camp Around
Daddy dont like it but mommy still wonders, sweet boy
But youre allowed to try it and I point no fingers
Sweet boy, but Im still wonderin what it means, boy
You hold your wrist so limply
You dont have to camp around
Save all your money, go confess on sunday, sweet boy
And you get your copy of honey,
Back on the street by monday
Sweet boy, but tell me where does that leave me, boy
Save the satin undies, dont pluck out your eyebrows
Stow the mincey lisping, you dont have to camp around
song performed by by Todd Rundgren
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Camp Followers
In the old wars of the world there were camp-followers,
Women of ancient sins who gave themselves for hire,
Women of weak wills and strong desire.
And, like the poison ivy in the woods
That winds itself about tall virile trees
Until it smothers them, so these
Ruined the bodies and the souls of men.
More evil were they than Red War itself,
Or Pestilence, or Famine. Now in this war-
This last most awful carnage of the world-
All the old wickedness exists as then:
But as a foul stream from a festering fen
Is met and scattered by a mountain brook
Leaping along its beautiful, bright course,
So now the force
Of these new Followers of the camp has come
Straight from God's Source
To cleanse the world and cleanse the minds of men.
Good women, of great courage and large hearts,
Women whose slogan is self-sacrifice,
Willing to pay the price
God asks of pioneers, now play their parts
In this stupendous drama of the age
As Followers of the Camps.
They come in the name of God our Father,
They come in the name of Christ our Brother,
They come in the name of All Humanity,
To give their gold, their labour, and their love
To help the suffering souls in this war-riddled earth,
The New Women of the Race-
The New Camp Followers-
The Centuries shall do honour to their names.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Inherit The Wind
(words & music by eddie rabbitt)
Baby dont fall in love with me
Ill only bring you grief
Baby, dont set your heart on me
Ill only have to leave
cause the north wind flows through my veins
Like my dad theres a dream in my brain
In the morning Ill have to leave again
Thats how it is when you inherit the wind
Inherit the wind
Daddy, he was a traveling man
I hardly knew his face
Momma, she cried for him at night
He never stayed in one place
cause the north wind flows through my veins
Like my dad theres a dream in my brain
In the morning Ill have to leave again
Thats how it is when you inherit the wind
Inherit the wind
Oh I cant give you the love you need
I just wont be here that long
But if you still want me here tonight
Ill love you till the break of dawn
cause the north wind flows through my veins
Like my dad theres a dream in my brain
In the morning Ill have to leave again
Thats how it is when you inherit the wind
Inherit the wind
Inherit the wind, inherit the wind
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Until You Come Back To Me
Though you don't call anymore
I sit and wait in vain
I guess I'll rap on your door
Tap on your window pane
I want to tell you baby
The changes I've been going through
Missing you, listen you
'till you come back to me
That's what I'm gonna do
Why did you have to decide
You had to set me free
I'm gonna swallow my pride
I'm gonna beg you to (please baby please) see me
I'm gonna walk by myself
Just to prove that my love is true
Oh, for you baby
'till you come back to me
That's what I'm gonna do
Living for you my dear
Is like living in a world of constant fear
In my plea, I've got to make you see
That our love is dying
Although your phone you ignore
Somehow I must explain
I'm gonna rap on your door
Tap on your window pane
I'm gonna camp on your step
Until I get through to you
I've got to change your view baby
'till you come back to me
That's what I'm gonna do
song performed by by Cyndi Lauper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poem-aid de camp
My aid de camp
My poem
There is fear of
Coup d' etat.
I'm at
Daggers drawn
With myself
It's the poem
That rescue me.
My poem
My aid de camp.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Until You Come Back To Me
Though you don't call anymore
I sit and wait in vain
I guess I'll rap on your door
Tap on your window pane
I want to tell you Baby
The changes I've been going through
Missing you.
Listen you
'till you come back to me
That's what I'm gonna do
Why did you have to decide
You had to set me free
I'm gonna swallow my pride
I'm gonna beg you to (please baby please) see me
I'm gonna walk by meself
Just to prove that my love is true
Oh, for you baby
'till you come back to me
That's what I'm gonna do
Living for you my dear
Is like living in a world of constant fear
In my plea, I've got to make you see
That our love is dying
Although your phone you ignore
Somehow I must explain
I'm gonna rap on your door
Tap on your window pane
I'm gonna camp on your step
Until I get through to you
I've got to change your view baby
'till you come back to me
That's what I'm gonna do
song performed by by Stevie Wonder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Swagman
Kind friends, pray give attention
To this, my little song.
Some rum things I will mention,
And I'll not detain you long.
Up and down this country
I travel, don't you see,
I'm a swagman on the wallaby,
Oh! don't you pity me.
I'm a swagman on the wallaby,
Oh! don't you pity me.
At first I started shearing,
And I bought a pair of shears.
On my first sheep appearing,
Why, I cut off both its ears.
Then I nearly skinned the brute,
As clean as clean could he.
So I was kicked out of the shed,
Oh! don't you pity me, &c.
I started station loafing,
Short stages and took my ease;
So all day long till sundown
I'd camp beneath the trees.
Then I'd walk up to the station,
The manager to see.
"Boss, I'm hard up and I want a job,
Oh! don't you pity me," &c.
Says the overseer: "Go to the hut.
Says the overseer: "Go to the hut.
In the morning I'll tell you
If I've any work about
I can find for you to do."
But at breakfast I cuts off enough
For dinner, don't you see.
And then my name is Walker.
Oh! don't you pity me.
I'm a swagman, &c.
And now, my friends, I'll say good-bye,
For I must go and camp.
For if the Sergeant sees me
He may take me for a tramp;
But if there's any covey here
What's got a cheque, d'ye see,
I'll stop and help him smash it.
Oh! don't you pity me.
I'm a swagman on the wallaby,
Oh! don't you pity me.
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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