En.Citatepedia^®.ro

How I Wish You Do Not Understand My Language

speaking in tongues the drops of light fall on the pavement
of the church, worse, there were heads banging against other heads
and beards. Birds fly away, upon a thud of a pod,
pudding, leaves heaping, trees shedding off heaps of leaves,
and church bells ringing, i drag my feet drugged against the
ragged tags of the rugged rags, Sham, It is still painful.
How i wish you do not understand my language, Yet you
are speaking it, like i am the sham shaman of the shah of tehran.

it is your wedding day. I am here.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Wedding Bells

Wedding bells are ringing in the chapel
that should have been ringing
out for you and me.
Now down the isle you walk
with someone else on your arm
instead of me.
We thought in our love
we had everything
until he came along
and swept you off your feet
taking you from my loving arms.
Now up the isle you go with him
to take your wedding vows
as I stand watching,
just another face in the crowd.
I could say something
but I won’t,
as this is your wedding day.
I shall simply slip into the shadows
and then slowly slip away.
You have a new life before you,
one I hope will bring you joy
as the wedding bells keep ringing
for your wedding day.

24 July 2008

poem by David Harris
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Time and Leaves and Heaps

time runs
leaves fall
the ground is filled with heaps and heaps of them
the world too
is thickened by the leaves of time
heaps and heaps of what man once was
we bury all of them
time
leaves
heaps of leaves
so many times

we fall too like leaves
the world is thick of those like us

fair enough.
fair enough.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Weddin' Bells

I have the invitation that you sent me
You wanted me to see you change your name
I couldn't stand to see you wed another
But dear I hope you're happy just the same
Wedding bells are ringing in the chapel
That should be ringing out for you and me
Down the aisle with someone else you're walking
Those wedding bell will never ring for me
I planned a little cottage in the valley
I even bought a little band of gold
I thought some day I'd place it on your finger
But now the future looks so dark and cold
Wedding bells are ringing in the chapel
I hear the children laughing out with glee
At home alone I hang my head in sorrow
Those wedding bells will never ring for me
I fancy that I see a bunch of roses
A blossom from an orange tree in your hair
And while the organ plays I love you truly
Please let me pretend that I am there
Wedding bells are ringing in the chapel
Ever since the day you set me free
I knew someday that you would wed another
But wedding bells will never ring for me

song performed by by Hank Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wedding Bells

I have the invitation that you sent me
You wanted me to see you change your name
I couldnt stand to see you with another
But dear I hope youre happy just the same
Wedding bells are ringing in the chapel
That should be ringing out for you and me
Down the aisle with someone else youre walking
Those wedding bell will never ring for me
I planned a little cottage in the valley
I even bought a little band of gold
I thought some day Id place it on your finger
But now the future looks so dark and cold
Wedding bells are ringing in the chapel
I hear the children laughing out with glee
At home alone I hang my head in sorrow
Those wedding bells will never ring for me
I fancy that I see a bunch of roses
A blossom from an orange tree in your hair
And while the organ plays I love you truly
Please let me pretend that I am there
Wedding bells are ringing in the chapel
Ever since the dat you set me free
I know someday that you are with another
But wedding bells will never ring for me

song performed by by Hank Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sex & The Church

Though the idea of compassion
Is said to be
The union of christ
And his bride, the christian
Its all very puzzling
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
And the church
And the church
All the great mystic religions
Put strong emphasis, on
Redeame this spiritual qualities
Of sex of sex
Chrstianity
Has been pretty modern
About sex
Of sex of sex of sex of sex
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex sex
I think there is a union
Between the flesh and the spirit
Its sex and the church
Sex and the church
All religions mother
Give me youre freedom of spirit
And the joys of the flesh
Of sex sex sex and the church
Give me youre freedom of spirit
And the joys of the flesh
Of sex sex sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
And the church
And the church
Sex sex
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex sex
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
And the church
And the church
Sex sex
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex sex
Sex
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex sex

song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sundays Past

On Sunday mornings you would wear a dark suit
With a tie and shiny shoes you are ready to en route
The church bells would ring calling for morning mass
While you check the weather through the window glass
A last glance in the mirror and you are on your way
You join the church goers without any further delay

Walking over uneven cobblestones in our small town
Children would jump on the sidewalks up and down
Dressed up for church everyone is wearing their best
Thinking about the priest and what they have to confess
Men lifting their dark hats as they wish a Good Morning
Then pass by the cemetery bowing heads as in mourning

The church bells now ringing louder and more demanding
Calling all sinners to mass without misunderstanding
I always knew that right then the decision was made
And it was agreed to skip church without being afraid
Through the old alley you and others took a known detour
Heading straight to the pub on the corner that is for sure

Around noon I would go to meet my father by the church
And he would talk about mass having done some research
At home my mother would just smile and shake her head
While my father gave her a wink that was hardly misread
Joking around we would eat lunch smiling with every bite
Keeping my father's Sunday secret and the world was alright

© 2011

poem by Kristina Louisa Carr
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Bells In My Heart

I heard church bells ringing- ringing quite clear
I heard the church bells ringing- deafening my ears.
I looked all around and yet I could not see
Any places of worship even close to me.

That was when I realized that the ringing
Was coming from my heart.
Because it was you who captured it
Right from the start.

You entered my life like the earth enters
the day- and forever you would stay.
The bells are ringing with every passing
Thought of you, and it tells me all that I must do.
And to keep this love- to you I must be true.

I sometimes ask myself how can this be?
The bells toll louder every time you look at me.
Is this the way that love is really meant to be
That my heart is racing fast, and I feel wild and free.

We’ve all envisioned love and how it should be
But love is something you can not foresee.
Everyone sees love in a different way
And with your heart, love will play.
And love like a guitar that’s out of tune
You will lose it pretty soon.

So find the faults while you can
Tune that love and take your stand.
Now as I look at you I ask:
“Is this happening to only me
Or is our hearts singing in harmony”?

poem by Louis Rams
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That Early Morning

under the trees
you tread upon a heap of leaves
only a few feet walked on this path
the winds came and gave a hush
it has been this way
since

meanwhile some rays of light
begin to pierce crevices between

touchy
the leaves fall like a confetti
you remember
once when freedom first arrived
in the streets of the city
you hear the shouts of joy
for liberation
you remember opening hands
some fists

it is over now
and what you have are the sounds of footsteps
on the heaps of leaves
on this path
where no one likes to tread again

you are
alone again but stronger this time

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sound Sleep

Some are laughing, some are weeping;
She is sleeping, only sleeping.
Round her rest wild flowers are creeping;
There the wind is heaping, heaping
Sweetest sweets of Summer's keeping.
By the corn-fields ripe for reaping.

There are lilies, and there blushes
The deep rose, and there the thrushes
Sing till latest sunlight flushes
In the west; a fresh wind brushes
Through the leaves while evening hushes.

There by day the lark is singing
And the grass and weeds are springing;
There by night the bat is winging;
There for ever winds are bringing
Far-off chimes of church-bells ringing.

Night and morning, noon and even,
Their sound fills her dreams with Heaven:
The long strife at lent is striven:
Till her grave-bands shall be riven
Such is the good portion given
To her soul at rest and shriven.

poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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When The Wind Blows

When the wind blows, many leaves will fall.
In my mind i see,
When the wind blows, many leaves will fall.
This is an emergency.
In a part of this once-great city
Stands a child crying out in pity.
Gone is hope in the heart of each hungry hour.
Every year in this land of plenty
There are millions of starving children
What will i say if they look my way?
This is an emergency.
When the wind blows, many leaves will fall.
In my mind i see,
When the wind blows, many leaves will fall.
This is an emergency.
Bow your heads to the lost generation
Scars so deep, bringing god's damnation.
Businessmen sip wine while congress argue.
But for grace we enjoy our pleasures
What we face will be our salvation
Go build your towns, but remember time will not forget
That this is an emergency.
When the wind blows, many leaves will fall.
When the wind blows, many leaves will fall.
This is an emergency.
Think of what the wise men said.
When the wind blows, many leaves will fall.
In my mind i see,
When the wind blows, many leaves will fall.
In my mind i see,
When the wind blows, many leaves will fall.
This is an emergency.

song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Week-Night Service

The five old bells
Are hurrying and eagerly calling,
Imploring, protesting
They know, but clamorously falling
Into gabbling incoherence, never resting,
Like spattering showers from a bursten sky-rocket dropping
In splashes of sound, endlessly, never stopping.

The silver moon
That somebody has spun so high
To settle the question, yes or no, has caught
In the net of the night’s balloon,
And sits with a smooth bland smile up there in the sky
Smiling at naught,
Unless the winking star that keeps her company
Makes little jests at the bells’ insanity,
As if he knew aught!

The patient Night
Sits indifferent, hugged in her rags,
She neither knows nor cares
Why the old church sobs and brags;
The light distresses her eyes, and tears
Her old blue cloak, as she crouches and covers her face,
Smiling, perhaps, if we knew it, at the bells’ loud clattering disgrace.

The wise old trees
Drop their leaves with a faint, sharp hiss of contempt,
While a car at the end of the street goes by with a laugh;
As by degrees
The poor bells cease, and the Night is exempt,
And the stars can chaff
The ironic moon at their ease, while the dim old church
Is peopled with shadows and sounds and ghosts that lurch
In its cenotaph.

poem by David Herbert Lawrence
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Melting Pot

many colored drops of rain,
as if the rainbow melted.
childrens' voices crying out,
different sounds, different languages.

all the same language.

millions of hands reaching for
a hand searching for a bridge.
hunger, need, and the emptiness
that drives, that prays, that bleeds.

all the same language.

kindred souls wrapped in fallen leaves,
that crumble, and return to dirt.
millions of eyes turned inward,
under the same sky, looking for tomorrow.

all the same language.

millions of eyes turned inward,
under the same sky, looking for today!
many colored drops of rain.
as if the rainbow melted.

all the same language.
all, speaking human!

poem by Eric Cockrell
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The Tree Is Shedding Off Its Leaves

do not be surprised
to see this tree shedding off leaves

it is the season
for it to become a skeleton
it is like
that

giving off everything
what it gained
from the soil which gives it life

the tree is returning
heaps and heaps of leaves
for the wind
to blow and scatter to the earth

until what is left
is the bareness of it all

the one where we are now
a destiny into
emptiness

the glory of nothing
the splendor of being nothing at all

welcome! welcome!

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Don't be a tree!

Not a planted tree to stay at a place,
Spreading the roots in underground space,
Looking for the sun to beg for the light,
Photosynthesis, reproduce and rot.

When the wind blows, to shake our heads,
We are not the trees that have no leads,
During the storm, to get uprooted and fall,
We are the trees that are too rigid, not flexible.

For the fallen leaves, the trees never cry,
For the fallen human, we have to voice and try,
We are the human, the rulers of the earth,
Not the trees of the soil that has no mirth.

Let us not lick the feet of anyone for our survival,
Let us not get tickled with someone's failure,
Let us not be the fools to get hoodwinked and cheated,
Let us be the survivors conquering the thoughts.

poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Aaron Hatfield

Better than granite, Spoon River,
Is the memory-picture you keep of me
Standing before the pioneer men and women
There at Concord Church on Communion day.
Speaking in broken voice of the peasant youth
Of Galilee who went to the city
And was killed by bankers and lawyers;
My voice mingling with the June wind
That blew over wheat fields from Atterbury;
While the white stones in the burying ground
Around the Church shimmered in the summer sun.
And there, though my own memories
Were too great to bear, were you, O pioneers,
With bowed heads breathing forth your sorrow
For the sons killed in battle and the daughters
And little children who vanished in life's morning,
Or at the intolerable hour of noon.
But in those moments of tragic silence,
When the wine and bread were passed,
Came the reconciliation for us --
Us the ploughmen and the hewers of wood,
Us the peasants, brothers of the peasant of Galilee --
To us came the Comforter
And the consolation of tongues of flame!

poem by Edgar Lee Masters
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Bredon Hill

In summertime on Bredon
The bells they sound so clear;
Round both the shires they ring them
In steeples far and near,
A happy noise to hear.

Here of a Sunday morning
My love and I would lie,
And see the coloured counties,
And hear the larks so high
About us in the sky.

The bells would ring to call her
In valleys miles away:
'Come all to church, good people;
Good people, come and pray.
But here my love would stay.

And I would turn and answer
Among the springing thyme,
'Oh, peal upon our wedding,
And we will hear the chime,
And come to church in time.

But when the snows at Christmas
On Bredon top were strewn,
My love rose up so early
And stole out unbeknown
And went to church alone.

They tolled the one bell only,
Groom there was none to see,
The mourners followed after,
And so to church went she,
And would not wait for me.

The bells they sound on Bredon,
And still the steeples hum.
'Come all to church, good people,' -
Oh, noisy bells, be dumb;
I hear you, I will come.

poem by Alfred Edward Housman
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Favourite Sounds

Waves crashing against rocks
the rain on windows
birds chirping in the trees
leaves crunching underfoot.
Church bells in the distance
the crackling of a fire
a child's laughter
a loved ones voice.
Treading on snow
the purring of a cat
whistle of the wind
a favourite song.
The sound of silence.

poem by Kevin Halls
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One summer when the wind was strong

This is the place, now we are here again

I remember that summer when the wind was strong
And everything around us was dry,

The acacia trees towered and showered us with
Round leaves falling and falling and falling

Some birds were there and they flew away
Some cars were there and they speeded away

It was getting dark and it was a dry summer
We stayed there for a while when the leaves fell

Then we went under the trees not seeking shelter
But to catch those leaves falling and falling and falling

We are trying to feel again what falling was
We are here on this summer, we see the leaves

Falling and falling again to the dry wind,
We try to recall about us, but there is simply

Nothing about us anymore, but just the same
The leaves fall and fall and fall, we see them reenacting

There is that meaning; there it is in the falling
But we have outgrown it, we look for more, we hope

We can find some more, something beyond us.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Queen Of Spades, The

When the church bells toll,
I dream I'll tap my feet,
So no one hears the howl
Germinating from my
heartbeat,

I'll await our kiss of unity,
At the end of the aisle,
I'd have waited an eternity,
But it will be worthwhile

We'll count the stars
together-
All the hairs on our heads,
In you my children have a mother,
And I- a queen of spades

poem by Isunge Mwangase
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Language Of Love

I want your flesh and blood
And to feel your heart pumping hard
I want to tell my story to your eyes
I want to watch you react
To me baby
Maybe Im dreaming
I got to do something
We may be on the same planet
Living in different worlds
Do you speak the language of love
Living in the touch of your fingers
Are you the passionate type
Is this a natural thing
Do you speak the language of love
Second hand emotional trigger
In the devils playground
Hear the church bells ring
I speak the language of love
I speak the language of love
Shes my great obsession
And the girl likes me too
I think she has the wrong impression
She thinks I want to be friends
Maybe Im dreaming
I better do something
We might be on the same planet
But talk different tongues
Do you speak the language of love
Living in the touch of your fingers
Are you the passionate type
Is this a natural thing
Do you speak the language of love
Second hand emotional trigger
In the devils playground
Hear the church bells ring
I speak the language of love
I speak the language of love
She thinks I want to be friends
Maybe Im dreaming
I better do something
We may be on the same planet
Living in different worlds
I speak the language of love
I speak the language of love
Do you speak the language of love
Living in the touch of your fingers
Are you the passionate type
Is this a natural thing
Do you speak the language of love
Second hand emotional trigger
In the devils playground
Hear the church bells ring

song performed by by Rick Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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