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
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Related quotes
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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Another Spring
Angelo badalamenti, john clifford
Old people talk to themselves
When they sit all round all day
This old woman I knew
I used to go over there and sit with her
And shed be sitting around
In a rocking chair talking to herself
And she used to say she used to say
Sometimes the cold gets in my bones so bad
Till I just dont think I can go
Yeah and for a little while well I dont care
If my days are coming to an end
And just as soon be gone sometimes
Sometimes the night comes down on me
And I know whats ahead
An evening in this cold old house
With no one to say goodnight to me when I go to bed
An evening in this cold old house
With no one to say goodnight to me when I go to bed
Sometimes
I wonder why I stay
What am I waiting for
My children are grown and gone away
They got children of their own now
Dont need me anymore
In winter when the streets are bare
There aint nothing much to see
I just cant help missing and thinking
About that kindly man
That one old winter time came
And took away from me
And then one morning
Another spring is there outside my door
Things are blooming
Birds are singing
And suddenly yes well I aint sad
Aint sad no more aint sad no more
When its warm and the sun is out
Its like my hearts restored
Ive had my love Ive had my children
And I have so many memories
So dont mind me complaining
What the years may bring
Cos this old world has been fine with me really
And Im thankful for seeing another spring
Its gonna be better this time another spring
Its gonna be groovier this time another spring
Its whats happening this time
So Im thankful for letting me see another spring
song performed by by Nina Simone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Child's Amaze
amaze, cold amazement
those faces i saw as a child
those faces that can still trap
me between the lines of their
scowls with mere recollections
those cold cold faces that seemed
to have come out of er somewhere
a torture chamber? a lonely prison?
disappointment land?
i did not know hell, too young to know
wonder who first coined cold as hell
could hell be cold anyway?
well then i did not know
much about fridge either
in backward borneo 40 years back
the coldness of people's faces
racked the mind and dissettled
a budding heart mored used to
cajoles and warm embraces
i still see men with
cold cold faces, demeanor
hell, ice, fridge have become
overused, redundant words
to describe such poor souls
i picture them as homo sapiens
who carry an arctic with them
and wonder how they could make
friends and warm them up
cold cold people with cold cold faces
who could cut deeper to the bone
than ice and snow
inspired by
A Child's Amaze
SILENT and amazed, even when a little boy,
I remember I heard the preacher every Sunday put God in his
statements,
As contending against some being or influence.
Walt Whitman
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Winter Must Be Cold With No Memories
Winter is a lonely season
if you have no one.
The snow lays on the ground,
white and pale as death.
You walk along any beach
see how deserted it can be.
Empty as a broken heart
living in loneliness.
For some winter
must be cold with no memories.
Something to lift the evening chill
to warm summer days
of two hearts entwined.
So winter can be cold
with no memories
of warm and happier times.
28 March 2008
poem by David Harris
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See All Her Faces
(jim stratton / alexander ryan)
Here she comes
Here she comes
Ribbons flying from her half-forgotten hair
Look at her run
See what the world and love have done
See all her faces
See all her faces
Look in my eyes
That she is me
I cant disguise
See all her faces
Ah, ha, see all her faces
Im looking for someone
Of the gentle kind
Knowing that looks can lie
Looking for someone
Is he there to find?
Or should I run on by, ah, ha
Here she comes
Here she comes
Shadows sadly chasing
Every step she takes
Look at her now
She needs love so much more somehow
See all her faces
See all her faces
Look at my life
The wasted years
Each a knife
See all her faces, ah-ha
See all her faces
Waiting for someone
Who will set me free
Passing the time too fast
Waiting for someone
Is that where hell be?
Or should I run right past? , hmm
There she goes
There she goes
Somehow making me and all her faces sad, oh, oh
Ba, da, ba, da, ba, da, ba, da......
song performed by by Dusty Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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New Home Town
(randy goodrum)
Therell be friendly faces everywhere you look
Like that magic page inside your coloring book
And well begin again
And find our strength again in our new hometown
And theres a house beside a pond inside our woods
And every winter it becomes the neighborhood
Therell be a snowman then
And skaters everywhere in our new hometown
(chorus)
So dont be afraid, little princess
When the train finally reaches tracks end
Every step of the way, Ill be one heart beat away
Little princess, tomorrow starts right now
In our new home town
Theres a room inside our house thats mine and yours
And I promised you feel safe and so secure
Well have a better life, a little paradise
In our new hometown
(chorus)
So dont be afraid, little princess
Cause our journey has come to an end
Every night every day Ill be one heart beat away
Little princess, tomorrow starts right now
In our new hometown
song performed by by Olivia Newton-John
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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She Does Not Remember
She was an evil stepmother.
In her old age she is slowly dying
in an empty hovel.
She shudders
like a clutch of burnt paper.
She does not remember that she was evil.
But she knows
that she feels cold.
Translated from the Polish by Czeslaw Milosz and Leonard Nathan
Anonymous Submission
poem by Anna Swirszczynska
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Two Houses
Yesterday's house,
where I used to live
was warm
with brick, and mellow wood.
Sounds bounced
softly
back and forth,
to blend with living words.
Yesterday's house
does not remember me.
Today's house
is cold and bleak
with steel,
and pitted stone.
Sounds clash,
as havoc reigns...
with reason
lost to madness.
Yesterday's house
is masked by time,
and clockwork hands
that can't turn back.
My body lives in today's house -
my eyes weep today's tears -
but my heart
is safe in yesterday's house
where the mortgage
is always paid.
poem by Robert Reldan
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Sonnet: An Empty House Remembers
The empty house around me ticks and creaks,
A moody end to evening's gentle rains,
A brooding quiet as the daylight wanes,
The secret language empty houses speak.
What stories might this house preserve entire
In rhythmic code composed of click and groan?
Does House recall a sadness with each moan?
Is laughter stored in every plank and wire?
And how might I, a fleeting visitor,
Acquire an ear for stories trapped in time,
And wrap a tale or two in words and rhyme?
How can I tap the House's secret lore?
In silence soft the house slips off to sleep.
Alone I sit, in darkness vast and deep.
poem by Russell Collier
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Room For The Life
Hey there, you lady in tears,
Do you think that they care if theyre real, woman?
They just take it as part of the deal.
Lost in your men and the games you play.
Trying to prove that youre better, woman.
But you neednt get heavy with them.
Like it or not, we were built tough,
Because were woman.
No, we never die for long,
While weve got that little life
To live for, where its hid inside.
No, we never die for long,
Oh! woman, two in one,
Theres room for a life in your womb, woman,
Inside of you can be two, woman,
Theres room for a life in your womb, woman,
Mama woman, aha!
Night after night in the quiet house,
Plaiting her hair by the fire, woman,
With no lover to free her desire,
How long do you think she can stick it out?
How long do you think before shell go out, woman?
Hey! get up on your feet and go get it, now.
Like it or not, we keep bouncing back,
Because were woman.
No, we never die for long,
While weve got that little life
To live for, where its hid inside.
Oh! woman, two in one,
Theres room for a life in your womb, woman,
Inside of you can be two, woman,
Theres room for a life in your womb, woman,
Mama woman, aha!
A-mama-woma-mama-woman-aha!
A-mama-woma-mama-woman-aha!
Oh, mama-woman, two-in-a-one, aha!
Oh, two in one, aha!
Oh, woman! woman! woman! woman!
Theres room for a life in your womb!
Theres room for a life in your womb!
Two in one, aha!
Two in one! two in one! two in one!
Room for a life in your womb.
song performed by by Kate Bush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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This House Is Empty Now
(costello/bacharach)
These rooms play tricks upon you
Remember when they were always filled with laughter
But now theyre quite deserted
They seem to just echo voices raised in anger
Maybe you will see my face
Reflected there on the pane
In the window up above for long
In broken home
Yet this house is empty now
Theres nothing I can do
To make you want to stay
So tell me how am I supposed to live without you
These walls were lined with pictures
Remember the glass we charged in celebration
But now I fill my life up
With all that I can to deaden this sensation
Do you recognize the face
Fixed in that fine silver frame
Were you really so unhappy there
You never said
So this house is empty now
Theres nothing I can do to make you want to stay
So tell me how am I supposed to live without you
Oh, if I could just become forgetful
When night seems endless
Does the extinguished candle care
About the darkness
Its funny how the memory
Will bring you so close then make you disappear
Meanwhile all our friends must choose
Who they will favour, who they will lose
Hang the garland high, or close the door
Or throw away the key
This house is empty now
Theres no one living here
You have to care about
This house is empty now
Theres nothing I can do
To make you want to stay
So tell me how am I supposed to live without you
This house is empty now
This house is empty now
Theres nothing I can do
This house is empty now
This house is empty now
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The House You Live In
Go first in the world, go forth with your fears
Remember a price must be paid
Be always too soon, be never too fast
At the time when all bets must be laid
Beware of the darkness, be kind to your children
Remember the woman who waits
And the house you live in will never fall down
If you pity the stranger who stands at your gate
When youre caught by the gale and youre full under sail
Beware of the dangers below
And the song that you sing should not be too sad
And be sure not to sing it too slow
Be calm in the face of all common disgraces
And know what theyre doin it for
And the house you live in will never fall down
If you pity the stranger who stands at your door
When youre out on the road and feelin quite lost
Consider the burden of fame
And he who is wise will not criticize
When other men fail at the game
Beware of strange faces and dark dingy places
Be careful while bending the law
And the house you live in will never fall down
If you pity the stranger who stands at your door
When youre down in the dumps and not ready to deal
Decide what it is that you need
Is it money or love, is it learnin to live
Or is it the mouth you must feed
Be known as a man who will always be candid
On questions that do not relate
And the house you live in will never fall down
If you pity the stranger who stands at your gate
And the house you live in will never fall down
If you pity the stranger who stands at your gate
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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South Koreans who have seen and praised the mass games should remember the hardship of tearful children. Teachers drive them hard with curses and orders to repeat and repeat. When the children return home in the evening, they can hardly walk.
quote by Kim Il sung
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fantasy Memory
so many faces
i can remember each even without the picture
so many beautiful faces that i have french
kissed
less words
lesser hellos
there were more goodbyes
those eyes shed tears but mine look the other way
towards more faces
every sunrise every morning light
so many beautiful faces that i can always remember and
soon too
easily forget
there is one though
shown to me this morning as i lay weak
in my sickbed
she says i kissed her once and it was too long ago
she is a sad face looking for me
i try to remember but
i cannot not remember ever
even the single lock of the hairs of said face
even the tears in her eyes
even the lasting smile that she once gave me
i know the reason.
who wants to remember the face that you really love
and yet you simply wasted?
you bury it in the past and you swear
you cannot anymore remember
you are careful because it will be very painful
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Leaving an old ancestral house...
i always remember someone leaving the house with a heavy heart. I sympathize. My heart is also heavy.
It is dark and someone carries a bag and begins to step away.
The steps become fainter.
I like to help. I suggest he stays. But Papa is vehement
and decisive.
Many years ago, five or ten people already left this house.
I stayed. I keep on staying.
The house is empty now.
I have decided not to listen anymore about the sound of emptiness.
The house of Gregorio must fall.
Everyone here dies.
I want to live. And so i must go somewhere else.
Where there are no hands that will choke me.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A face is like the outside of a house, and most faces, like most houses, give us an idea of what we can expect to find inside.
quote by Loretta Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One, Two, One... For You
the dust in the empty pockets
of the poor man,
walking home from work.
the plowed field just planted,
at the feet of sun and rain.
the simple house built by hand,
lifetimes written into the walls.
the last touch, the last kiss,
the moment never forgotten....
hearts wrapped in hearts,
live and die as one...
one set of footprints,
one name on the stone.
one set of wings,
one fire, one clap of thunder.
two words spoken, two empty vases.
one heart, one hawk flying,
two hands times two,
one dream!
two sparrows part,
one nest, and one tree!
two sides, two faces...
one memory!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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The House of Sleep
When we have laid aside our last endeavour,
And said farewell to one or two that weep,
And issued from the house of life for ever,
To find a lodging in the house of sleep -
With eyes fast shut, in sunless chambers lying,
With folded arms unmoved upon the breast,
Beyond the noise of sorrow and of crying,
Beyond the dread of dreaming, shall we rest?
Or shall there come at last desire of waking,
To walk again on hillsides that we know,
When sunrise through the cold white mist is breaking,
Or in the stillness of the after-glow?
Shall there be yearning for the sound of voices,
The sight of faces, and the touch of hands,
The will that works, the spirit that rejoices,
The heart that feels, the mind that understands?
Shall dreams and memories crowding from the distance,
Shall ghosts of old ambition or of mirth,
Create for us a shadow of existence,
A dim reflection of the life of earth?
And being dead, and powerless to recover
The substance of the show whereon we gaze,
Shall we be likened to the hapless lover,
Who broods upon the unreturning days?
Not so: for we have known how swift to perish
Is man's delight when youth and health take wing,
Until the winter leaves him nought to cherish
But recollections of a vanished spring.
Dream as we may, desire of life shall never
Disturb our slumbers in the house of sleep.
Yet oh, to think we may not greet for ever
The one or two that, when we leave them, weep!
poem by Robert Fuller Murray
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This House Is Empty Now (feat. Burt Bacharach)
These rooms play tricks upon you
Remember when they were always filled with laughter?
But now they're quite deserted
They seem to just echo voices raised in anger
Maybe you will see my face
Reflected there on the pane
In the window of our poor
Forlorn and broken home
Still this house is empty now
There's nothing I can do
To make you want to stay
So tell me how
Am I supposed to live without you?
These walls were lined with pictures
Remember the glass we charged in celebration?
But now I fill my life up
With all that I can to deaden this sensation
Do you recognize the face
Fixed in that fine silver frame
Were you really so unhappy then?
You never said
So this house is empty now
There's nothing I can do
To make you want to stay
So tell me how
Am I supposed to live without you?
Oh, if I could just become forgetful
When night seems endless
Does the extinguished candle care
About the darkness?
It's funny how my memry
Will bring you so close then make you disappear
Meanwhile all our friends must choose
Who they will favour, who they will lose
Hang the garland high or close the door
And throw away the key
This house is empty now
There's no one living here
You have to care about
This house is empty now
There's nothing I can do
To make you want to stay
So tell me how
Am I supposed to live without you?
This house is empty now
There's no one living here
You have to care about
This house is empty now
There's nothing I can do
To make you want to stay
So tell me how
Am I supposed to live without you
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The House
They are building a house
half a block down
and I sit up here
with the shades down
listening to the sounds,
the hammers pounding in nails,
thack thack thack thack,
and then I hear birds,
and thack thack thack,
and I go to bed,
I pull the covers to my throat;
they have been building this house
for a month, and soon it will have
its people...sleeping, eating,
loving, moving around,
but somehow
now
it is not right,
there seems a madness,
men walk on top with nails
in their mouths
and I read about Castro and Cuba,
and at night I walk by
and the ribs of the house show
and inside I can see cats walking
the way cats walk,
and then a boy rides by on a bicycle
and still the house is not done
and in the morning the men
will be back
walking around on the house
with their hammers,
and it seems people should not build houses
anymore,
it seems people should not get married
anymore,
it seems people should stop working
and sit in small rooms
on 2nd floors
under electric lights without shades;
it seems there is a lot to forget
and a lot not to do,
and in drugstores, markets, bars,
the people are tired, they do not want
to move, and I stand there at night
and look through this house and the
house does not want to be built;
through its sides I can see the purple hills
and the first lights of evening,
and it is cold
and I button my coat
and I stand there looking through the house
and the cats stop and look at me
until I am embarrased
and move North up the sidewalk
where I will buy
cigarettes and beer
and return to my room.
poem by Charles Bukowski
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