Reveille
In the brutal nights we used to dream
Dense violent dreams,
Dreamed with soul and body:
To return; to eat; to tell the story.
Until the dawn command
Sounded brief, low
'Wstawac'
And the heart cracked in the breast.
Now we have found our homes again,
Our bellies are full,
We're through telling the story.
It's time. Soon we'll hear again
The strange command:
'Wstawac'
Translated by Ruth Feldman And Brian Swann
Anonymous submission.
poem by Primo Levi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Shema
You who live secure
In your warm houses
Who return at evening to find
Hot food and friendly faces:
Consider whether this is a man,
Who labours in the mud
Who knows no peace
Who fights for a crust of bread
Who dies at a yes or a no.
Consider whether this is a woman,
Without hair or name
With no more strength to remember
Eyes empty and womb cold
As a frog in winter.
Consider that this has been:
I commend these words to you.
Engrave them on your hearts
When you are in your house, when you walk on your way,
When you go to bed, when you rise.
Repeat them to your children.
Or may your house crumble,
Disease render you powerless,
Your offspring avert their faces from you.
Translated by Ruth Feldman And Brian Swann
Anonymous submission.
poem by Primo Levi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dream Operator
When you were little
You dreamed you were big
You must have been something
A real tiny kid
You wish you were me
I wish I was you
Now dont you wake up
The dream will come true
Every dream has a name
And names tell your story
This song is your dream
Youre the dream operator
Its bigger than life
You know its all me
My face is a book
But its not what it seems
Three angels above
The whole human race
They dream us to life
They dream me a face
And every dream tells it all
And this dream is your story
You dreamed me a heart
Youre the dream operator
Shake-it-up dream
Hi-di-ho dream
Fix-it-up dream
Look at me dream
Ive been waiting so long
Now I am your dream
Hard to forget
Hard to go on
When you fall asleep
Youre out on your own
Let go of your life
Grab on to my hand
Here in the clouds
Where well understand
And you dreamed it all
And this is your story
Do you know who you are?
Youre the dream operator
And you dreamed it all
And this is your story
Do you know who you are?
Youre the dream operator
song performed by by Talking Heads
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bedtime Story
I'm going to tell you a bed time story
it's the one my Grandpa told long ago to me.
But the bed time story I will tell you tonight
will become a part of, now your families history!
It will tell of the days of covered wagons
that once rolled across the prairies green!
And tales of hunting and fishing
you will invision all of my story telling scenes.
Of indians and cowboys!
around the camp fires and hunting buffalo!
And homes built from the lands trees
and those fields, that the farmers plows tilled to grow.
I will tell you a bed time story
that you will tell your own children one day!
I will tell it the way my Grandpa told it to me
then you can tell your story, in your way one day!
poem by Linda Winchell
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Its The Same Old Story
M. field / n. oliphant
The same old story
Its as old as the stars above
The same old story
Of a boy and a girl in love
The scenes say more moonlight
The times say more june light
Romances the thing
Two hearts away deep in a dream
The same old story
Its been told much too much before
The same old story
But its worth telling just once more
Its all fun and laughter
They lived ever after in ecstacy
The same old story but its new to me
song performed by by Billie Holiday
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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How The Story Goes
Telephone girl talkin to her mothers voice
Yet she knows these days will soon be gone
Cadillac crews take the band away tonight
Aint it funny how the story goes
Its a dream I had playin music in my band
Its a dream I had to be happy with the woman I love
Well if dreams came true
And they definitely do
For sayin Im a fool
Aint it funny how the story goes
Aint it funny how the story goes
Hollywood queen lookin from her lacy tomb
Its strange to know that I can laugh at you
Flash guitar instead of an architects tool
Aint it funny how the story goes
Its a dream I had playin music in a band
Its a dream I had to be happy with the woman I love
But if dreams came true
And they definitely do
For sayin Im a fool
Aint it funny how the story goes
Aint it funny how the story goes
(solo)
(chorus)
song performed by by Reo Speedwagon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face
(words & music by ewan maccoll)
The first time ever I saw your face
I thought the sun rose in your eyes
And the moon and stars were the gifts you gave
To the dark and the empty skies my love
To the dark and the empty skies
The first time ever I kissed your mouth
I felt the earth move in my hands
Like a trembling heart of a captive bird
That was there at my command my love
That was there at my command
Hoa hoa hoa oh oh oh oh oh oh
Woh oh oh oh hoa hoa hoa
Oh hoa hoa hoa hoa hoa hoa
That was there at my command my love
That was there at my command
The first time ever I kissed your mouth
I felt the earth move in my hands
Like a trembling heart of a captive bird
That was there at my command my love
That was there at my command
Hoa hoa hoa oh oh oh oh oh oh
Woh oh oh oh hoa hoa hoa
Oh hoa hoa hoa hoa hoa hoa
That was there at my command my love
That was there at my command
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When my soul loves your heart.....
I have your heart within me
that keeps telling me love story every night
God has given us love as the best medicine
to purify our hearts and soul with affections
When your heart and my soul touch each other
then there is no room for sadness
When my eyes close for sleep
then my soul awakes and kisses your heart
When your heart plays music with my soul
then the melodies hover like nightingales
When your heart is longing for my love
then my soul is belonging to beautiful nights
When my soul loves your heart
then its not only what your heart for
but for what my soul lives with you heart
poem by Ravi Sathasivam
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The Story Of Modern Verses
The story that had started in wonder
The story that had started in pain
The story that always remained untold
The story that could never unfold
The reality of complex human natures
The story that could only capture
The superficial aspects of humanity
That is the story of modern verses
That is the only story of our modern age.
There comes the hatred full of love
And love full of hatred
There stands the familiarity at a distance
And a distant association and nearness
More glorified than any day to day familiarity.
The story of modern verses always reminds us
About the shallowness of modernity
About the obscurity of the material world.
This story once told shall touch the base
And would make everybody else to lose the race
Because winning is no more the destiny,
The destiny is only love, faith and submission
The destiny is only achieved by losing
At all phases of life - as the winning game
Is full of distortions and unhappiness.
The story of modern verses clicks in the mind of society
To push it through the hollow modern age
And make it reach the destiny of truth and harmony.
poem by Somsubhro Ghosh
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I wonder what it is that the people who criticize me for telling this story truly object to: is it that I have dared to tell the story? Or that the story turns out not to be the one they wanted to hear?
quote by Joyce Maynard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Dreamed.
I dreamed a dream and in that dream,
I dreamed that I had dreamed a dream,
Of hope and fairytales come true,
I dreamed a dream and thought of truth,
I dreamed a dream of life and love,
Of fate and angels and God above,
I dreamed a dream of good wishes and friends,
I dreamed a dream I dreaded to end,
But then I woke into my dream,
I dreamed I woke in a world obscene,
I dreamed a dream of violence and hate,
And once again I dreamed of fate,
I dreamed a dream of terror and fear,
I dreamed that each word went unheard,
And so children never spoke a word,
I dreamed a dream of demons and beasts,
I dreamed a dream that ended at last,
I woke in my bed and wondered if,
I dreamed a dream of dreams or if,
I dreamed a dream of truth that night,
And if so I wondered which was truth,
And which was merely a dream.
poem by Emma Wright
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dreams (Inspired-Desire from Visions in the Night)
Is it just a dream - to dream?
Or can one intelligently
And with honest hope inquire:
' What does a dream, truly mean? '
Is the dream given or allowed
To each their own,
Or across the masses to the crowd?
From God, or the soul,
How to be certain, how to know?
From Heaven's throne, or from the depth's of the human mind?
For one alone, or all mankind?
Shall we be allowed arcanumly to know
Just some of what was missed
From afar, through a dim glimpse?
Could it all possibly be
From somewhere beyond us all,
An endless soft echo
In a very old call?
One that is only to be heard
When the mind has settled quiet,
Into the time when the soul alone gathers words?
Or,
Is the dream as gift given
Hope to arouse and awaken.......
Hope for what awaits
Just out of sight, right beyond Heaven's open gates,
Thus in meager human faith
Tis meant true expectancy to create.......
If it really is more
Than just a dream - to dream,
Then perchance it is nothing less than vision,
A guiding gift given
Part of a much larger plan
Beyond the sight of man,
Originating from the Being
Within everything.
From whence and why
Do this querulous questions arise?
I know not for certain
I can only here in simple words
Ponder upon them,
And the mysterious reason they return
Again and again.
It would surely seem
Dreamy sights travel mostly by nights'
With perhaps a scent of mystery, of the once was, and the yet to be.
Or maybe they just come with a comforting thought
And the sweet peace it may have here to us brought.
Sleepy dreams
Like stars throughout the night,
Constant dark companions
Never to be touched
Nor fully known,
Not even the reason -if there be one-
To be wholly shown;
Yet, faithfully there,
Even if their purpose we are unaware.
A story possibly to show
Given from the Story-Teller
Who wrote them on our hearts
So long ago;
For now we sit in exile,
This temporary land to last only a little while;
Some messages may very well be sent
With a reason to behold,
One that surely must come
From the great Ages of old,
Even if shrouded in a fallen translation,
Tis still our story, everyone's story,
Even my story,
Waiting, and so wanting to be told.
poem by Smoky Hoss
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Castile
Orange blossoms blowing over Castile
children begging for coins
I met my love under an orange tree
or was it an acacia tree
or was he not my love?
I read this, then I dreamed this:
can waking take back what happened to me?
Bells of San Miguel
ringing in the distance
his hair in the shadows blond-white
I dreamed this,
does that mean it didn't happen?
Does it have to happen in the world to be real?
I dreamed everything, the story
became my story:
he lay beside me,
my hand grazed the skin of his shoulder
Mid-day, then early evening:
in the distance, the sound of a train
But it was not the world:
in the world, a thing happens finally, absolutely,
the mind cannot reverse it.
Castile: nuns walking in pairs through the dark garden.
Outside the walls of the Holy Angels
children begging for coins
When I woke I was crying,
has that no reality?
I met my love under an orange tree:
I have forgotten
only the facts, not the inference—
there were children, somewhere, crying, begging for coins
I dreamed everything, I gave myself
completely and for all time
And the train returned us
first to Madrid
then to the Basque country
Anonymous submission.
poem by Louise Gluck
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De Profundis
There is a stubble field on which a black rain falls.
There is a tree which, brown, stands lonely here.
There is a hissing wind which haunts deserted huts---
How sad this evening.
Past the village pond
The gentle orphan still gathers scanty ears of corn.
Golden and round her eyes are gazing in the dusk
And her lap awaits the heavenly bridegroom.
Returning home
Shepherds found the sweet body
Decayed in the bramble bush.
A shade I am remote from sombre hamlets.
The silence of God
I drank from the woodland well.
On my forehead cold metal forms.
Spiders look for my heart.
There is a light that fails in my mouth.
At night I found myself upon a heath,
Thick with garbage and the dust of stars.
In the hazel copse
Crystal angels have sounded once more.
Translated by Jurek Kirakowski
Anonymous submission.
poem by Georg Trakl
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Never Ending Story Theme Song
Search around, look at what you see,
In her face, the mirror of your dreams,
Make believe I'm everywhere, hidden in the lines
Written on the pages is the answer to our neverending story
Neverending story
Reach the stars, and fly a fantasy,
Dream a dream, and what you see will be,
Lives that keep their secrets will unfold behind the clouds
And there upon the rainbow is the answer to our neverending story
Neverending story
Story
Neverending story
Show no fear, for she may fade away,
In your hand, the birth of a new day,
Lives that keep their secrets will unfold behind the clouds
And there upon the rainbow is the answer to our neverending story
(3x)
Neverending story
song performed by by New Found Glory
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Semi-true Story
By: mac mcanally
With his head out the sunroof
And his heart in the right place
Plan b was foolproof
He drove off to her place
He yelled out his feelings
Among other stuff
It was too much tequila
Or not quite enough
It was too much tequila
Or not quite enough
Its a semi-true story
Believe it or not
I made up a few things
And theres some I forgot
But the life and the telling
Are both real to me
And they all run together
And turn out to be
A semi-true story
Well the picture is fuzzy
And the details are sorted
It was on the same day that gods own drunk was recorded
A walking tall sheriff and a big cadillac
And me and golf shoes on the hood making tracks
This daring young singer was under attack
Its a semi-true story
Believe it or not
I made up a few things
And theres some I forgot
But the life and the telling
Are both real to me
And they all run together
And turn out to be
A semi-true story
Well the things that Ive lived
And Ive dreamed
And Ive seen
And Ive heard
Youll take the good with the bad
And be glad that every word
Its a semi-true story
Believe it or not
I made up a few things
And theres some I forgot
But the life and the telling
Are both real to me
And they run like the rain
All the way to the sea
Semi-true stories
song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bookworm
There's a story that like a dessert I love
And I enjoy every page slowly as much as I can
There's story that makes me desperate
And even my day becomes gloomy after I read
There's story that safe to be read anytime
And I don't mind if it's going up or down
There's story that could burn me to the core
And left me with desire to create another story
There's story that easily predict
And I could finish it without much thinking
There's story that has a very good cliffhanger
And I need to rush to the publisher to make it comes fast
There's story that goes like my dream
And I want to repeat over and over until I'm getting bored
poem by Maria Sudibyo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Never Ending Story Theme
Turn around, look at what you see, yeah-eh
in her face, the mirror of your dreams, who-oh
Make believe I'm everywhere, hidden in the lines
written on the pages
is the answer to a neverending story, neverending story-eeh
Reach the stars, fly a fantasy
dream a dream, and what you see will be-eh, yeah, yeah, yeah-eh
Rhymes that keep their secrets, will unfold behind the clouds
and there upon the rainbow is the answer to a neverending story-eeh
neverending story-eeh
story-eeh
neverending story-eeh
Show no fear, for she may fade away, yeah-eh
In your hand, the birth of the new day-hee, yeah, yeah, yeah-eh
Rhymes that keep their secrets will unfold behind the clouds
and there upon the rainbow is the answer to a...Neverending story! oho-wo-oho-wo
Neverending story, woo-owo-oho-wo-oho-wo
Neverending story, wo-owo-oho-wo-oho-wo
Neverending story, Who-owo-oho-wo-oho-wo
song performed by by New Found Glory
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Cowboy Like You
(tompall glaser)
Well theres a jukebox in my ear
Playing so loud I can hardly hear
And its telling a story
About a boy like you
And each selection that I make
Tells me how my heart will break
Falling in love with a cowboy like you
When its just an old machine
Without a heart but oh so mean
Says Ill probably spend my whole life feeling blue
So Ill just put in one more dime
And play that same song one more time
Cause I want to hear about a cowboy like you
Repeat verse #3
I guess that I should go on home
But I cant stand to be alone
Cause Ill only dream about
A cowboy like you
Yeah Ill only dream about
A cowboy like you
song performed by by Reba Mcentire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Candle For The Dark
We rode the train,
From paris to the cold atlantic shore.
The winter rain
Kept us in each others arms until the dawn,
Do you remember?
Faster than the sun,
Flying higher than everyone.
Like a dream too good to last,
I wont regret the past.
Here with me,
Deep down in my soul now and forever.
A candle for the dark, I need you
Here with me,
A story with an unexpected end.
The morning plane,
Through empty doors a mountain in the sky.
Golden chain, the autumn treetops cast
Another light.
Do you remember?
We have no common ground,
Treasure lost will not be found.
We can blame our wild at heart,
From now until the start.
Here with me,
Deep down in my soul now and forever,
A candle for the dark I need you,
Here with me,
A story with an unexpected end.
Remember feelings I have known,
And chasing dreams Ive never done,
Were losing let us walk away,
Hold me in your arms before you go.
Repeat chorus...
Everywhere I go youre here with me.
song performed by by Chicago
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Kawabata
No doubt
the crazy boy thinks
he's having his mother read
some sort of record
of his memories,
something that he wrote himself-
that's what he thinks
he's listening to.
His eyes sparkle
with pride.
His mother has no idea
whether or not he understands
what she's saying,
but every time
she comes to see him
she repeats
the same story,
and she gets better
and better at telling it-
it begins to seem like
she's actually reading a story
of her son's.
She remembers things
she had forgotten.
And the son's memories grow
more beautiful.
The son is drawing
the mother's story out,
helping her,
changing the story-
there's no way
of telling
whose novel it is,
whether it's the mother's
or the son's.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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