My Young Brother Sang A Song
it is quite
a discovery
i a mode of hearsay
that allegedly
when my father almost died
being bitten by
his own white horse
my younger brother
who was then
so young
sang a song and sang it well
with all his friends
who were drinking
beer.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
The Poet's Song
I HID in the world and sang,
And I sang so loud and long
That all the ages rang
With the music of my song.
I sang of the earth and sky,
5
I sang of the whispering seas,
I sang of the mountains high,
And I sang of the flowers and trees;
I sang of the early spring,
I sang of the dawning day,
10
I sang, for I had to sing
As the young lambs have to play;
Till heaven and earth were ringing,
And all the people heard,
And they said, "We love his singing,
15
For his song is the song of the bird."
poem by Frederick George Scott
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I woke up to a lullaby
I woke up to a lullaby
The birds sang a song for me
They sang their hearts out all the while
Dancing on the maple tree
Each bird sang a different song
That melted into one
A song full of promises
For the day that’s just begun
They sang of sorrow
Of happiness and mirth
The sang of marriage
And of birth
They sang of people laughing
And of them crying
They sang of sickness
They sang of dying
This little song
They sang for me
Made me think
Made me free
Angel On My Shoulder
There's an angel on my shoulder,
asking me whats wrong?
and as i speak the words to her
she starts to sing a song
This song she sings is powerfull
yet its the saddest song you'll hear.
She sings a song of pain and love,
even the angel has a tear.
She sang of how she found true love,
and how she let it go.
she sang of how she pushed aside
the only love she'd know
she sang of how she pushed him away
to find another love thats true
she sang of how she looked at him
as he spoke the words 'thats you'
She never faulted in her words
as she sang and as she cried
for as she sang she told me
of how her true love died
She said he died of a broken heart
that only she could mend
her true love died because of her
his true love and friend
as the angel sang her final words
she looked at me and said
Kolee this is not my song
but your true loves instead
There's an angel on my shoulder
asking me whats wrong
asking me to love you,
and to never hear your song.
poem by Angel of Darkness
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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1841-1891
The wind rose, the sea rose
A wave rose on the sea,
It sang the mournful singing
Of a sad centenary;
It sang the song of an old man
Whose heart had died of grief,
Whose soul had dried and withered
At the falling of the leaf.
It sang the song of a young man
Whose heart had died of pain
When Spring was black and withered
And the winter come again.
The wind rose, the sea rose
A wave rose on the sea
Swelled with the mournful singing
Of a sad centenary.
poem by Joseph Mary Plunkett
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Her Song
I sang that song on Sunday,
To witch an idle while,
I sang that song on Monday,
As fittest to beguile;
I sang it as the year outwore,
And the new slid in;
I thought not what might shape before
Another would begin.
I sang that song in summer,
All unforeknowingly,
To him as a new-comer
From regions strange to me:
I sang it when in afteryears
The shades stretched out,
And paths were faint; and flocking fears
Brought cup-eyed care and doubt.
Sings he that song on Sundays
In some dim land afar,
On Saturdays, or Mondays,
As when the evening star
Glimpsed in upon his bending face
And my hanging hair,
And time untouched me with a trace
Of soul-smart or despair?
poem by Thomas Hardy
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Drank Like A River
Well, he was nearly died when he returned to the town hed come from
Hes brown bagging it tonight behind some tavern.
Somebody wrecked his life, and Ill bet you it was his darlin
Somebody wrecked his life, and Ill bet you it was his darlin
So he drank like a river when the wedding bells rang
Watched from the steeple as the choir girls sang
Died in a gutter on his feet and his hands...
The same hands that had once touched her face
Well, he was nearly died when he returned to the town hed come from
Hes hanging out drinking beer with his brother-in-law
He was a drinker at night, and in the morning he was unnerving
He was a drinker full time, the day that he lost his darlin
So he drank like a river when the wedding bells rang
Watched from the steeple as the choir girls sang
Died in a gutter on his feet and his hands...
The same hands that had once touched her face
So he drank like a river when the wedding bells rang
Watched from the steeple as the choir girls sang
Died in a gutter on his feet and his hands...
The same hands that had once touched her face
So he drank like a river when the wedding bells rang
Watched from the steeple as the choir girls sang
Died in a gutter on his feet and his hands...
The same hands that had once touched her face
song performed by by Whiskeytown
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Drank Like A River
Well, he was nearly died when he returned to the town hed come from
Hes brown bagging it tonight behind some tavern.
Somebody wrecked his life, and Ill bet you it was his darlin
Somebody wrecked his life, and Ill bet you it was his darlin
So he drank like a river when the wedding bells rang
Watched from the steeple as the choir girls sang
Died in a gutter on his feet and his hands...
The same hands that had once touched her face
Well, he was nearly died when he returned to the town hed come from
Hes hanging out drinking beer with his brother-in-law
He was a drinker at night, and in the morning he was unnerving
He was a drinker full time, the day that he lost his darlin
So he drank like a river when the wedding bells rang
Watched from the steeple as the choir girls sang
Died in a gutter on his feet and his hands...
The same hands that had once touched her face
So he drank like a river when the wedding bells rang
Watched from the steeple as the choir girls sang
Died in a gutter on his feet and his hands...
The same hands that had once touched her face
So he drank like a river when the wedding bells rang
Watched from the steeple as the choir girls sang
Died in a gutter on his feet and his hands...
The same hands that had once touched her face
song performed by by Whiskeytown
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bo-beh-o-bi Sang The Lips
Bo-beh-o-bi, sang the lips,
Veh-eh-o-mi, sang the glances,
Pi-eh-eh-o, sang the brows,
Li-eh-eh-ey, sang the visage,
Gzi-gzi-gzeh-o, sang the chain.
Thus on a canvas of some correspondences
Beyond dimension lived the face.
poem by Velimir Khlebnikov
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The Angel
At midnight an angel was crossing the sky,
And quietly he sang;
The moon and the stars and the concourse of clouds
Paid heed to his heavenly song.
He sang of the bliss of the innocent souls
In heavenly gardens above;
Of almighty God he sang out, and his praise
Was pure and sincere.
He bore in his arms a young soul
To our valley of sorrow and tears;
The young soul remembered the heavenly song
So vivid and yet without words.
And long did it struggle on earth,
With wondrous desire imbued;
But none of the tedious songs of our earth
Could rival celestial song.
poem by Mikhail Yuryevich Lermontov
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Crow On The Cradle
(from the soundtrack to no nukes; peformed live by jackson browne with graham nash & david lindley)
The sheeps in the meadow
The cows in the corn
Now is the time for a child to be born
Hell laugh at the moon
And cry for the sun
And if its a boy hell carry a gun
Sang the crow on the cradle
And if it should be that this babys a girl
Never you mind if her hair doesnt curl
With rings on her fingers
And bells on her toes
And a bomber above her wherever she goes
Sang the crow on the cradle
The crow on the cradle
The black and the white
Somebodys baby is born for a fight
The crow on the cradle
The white and the black
Somebodys baby is not coming back
Sang the crow on the cradle
Your mother and father will sweat and theyll slave
To build you a coffin and dig you a grave
Hush-a-bye little one, never you weep
For weve got a toy that can put you to sleep
Sang the crow on the cradle
Bring me my gun, and Ill shoot that bird dead
Thats what your mother and father once said
The crow on the cradle, what can we do
Ah, this is a thing that Ill leave up to you
Sang the crow on the cradle
Sang the crow on the cradle
song performed by by Jackson Browne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Died
Die my brother die
You can't see God like this,
I died my brother I died
But I saw Hell instead.
.
Kneel my brother pray
And seek atonement,
I knelt my brother I prayed,
But I got punishment instead.
.
Dance my brother sing,
And praise the Lord in highest,
I danced my brother I sang
Much more than David did.
But instead I saw the Lord in rage.
.
Don't be afraid my brother
Confront your fate,
The Lord is of mercy and kindness,
He shall forgive all your weakness,
But I summoned courage my brother
I confronted my fate.
.
Yet instead the Lord turned
His face in disgust,
And said: take him to Hades!
poem by Efe Benjamin
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A Credo
I.
For the sole edification
Of this decent congregation,
Goodly people, by your grant
I will sing a holy chant—
I will sing a holy chant.
If the ditty sound but oddly,
'Twas a father, wise and godly,
Sang it so long ago—
Then sing as Martin Luther sang,
As Doctor Martin Luther sang:
'Who loves not wine, woman and song,
He is a fool his whole life long!'
II.
He, by custom patriarchal,
Loved to see the beaker sparkle;
And he thought the wine improved,
Tasted by the lips he loved—
By the kindly lips he loved.
Friends, I wish this custom pious
Duly were observed by us,
To combine love, song, wine,
And sing as Martin Luther sang,
As Doctor Martin Luther sang:
'Who loves not wine, woman and song,
He is a fool his whole life long!'
III.
Who refuses this our Credo,
And who will not sing as we do,
Were he holy as John Knox,
I'd pronounce him heterodox!
I'd pronounce him heterodox,
And from out this congregation,
With a solemn commination,
Banish quick the heretic,
Who will not sing as Luther sang,
As Doctor Martin Luther sang:
'Who loves not wine, woman and song,
He is a fool his whole life long!'
poem by William Makepeace Thackeray
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May This Song Reach Your Heart
A strong young woman sings,
Her voice so divine.
'May this song reach your heart.'
She showed the epitome
Of soul, body, and mind.
'May this song reach your heart.'
She sang to the heavens
With uplifting spirit.
'May this song reach your heart.'
Her song was made
So the world could hear it.
'May this song reach your heart.'
The song she sang
Was that of fine art.
'May this song,
Reach your heart.'
poem by Devon McElveen
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The Day The Sun Sang
The moon stood,
The sea sank,
The mountains melted,
And no man died,
The day the Sun sang.
All birds blubbered,
All goats flew,
All insects sailed,
And no woman menstruated,
The day the Sun sang.
No shoe was worn,
No cloth washed,
No undies lined,
And no baby cried,
The day the Sun sang.
Whose eye saw?
Whose nose perceived?
Whose hand laboured?
And which being ate?
The day the Sun sang.
Only a star shone,
Only a match lit,
Only a wood burned,
And no life slept,
The day the Sun sang.
Mankind wailed,
Animals flinched,
Dead bodies respired,
And no creature ever wished,
That the Sun should ever sing!
poem by Ajayi Olubunmi Kolade
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Credo (after the German)
For the sole edification
Of this decent congregation,
Goodly people, by your grant
I will sing a holy chant --
I will sing a holy chant.
If the ditty sound but oddly,
'Twas a father, wise and godly,
Sang it so long ago --
Then sing as Martin Luther sang,
As Doctor Martin Luther sang:
"Who loves not wine, woman and song,
He is a fool his whole life long!"
He, by custom patriarchal,
Loved to see the beaker sparkle;
And he thought the wine improved,
Tasted by the lips he loved --
But the kindly lips he loved.
Friends, I wish this custom pious
Duly were observed by us,
To combine love, song, wine,
And sing as Martin Luther sang,
As Doctor Martin Luther sang:
"Who loves not wine, woman, and song,
He is a fool his whole life long!"
poem by William Makepeace Thackeray
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Singer Sang His Song
Hed sing his song most evry night
Wishing she was there behind the light
The people danced and sang along
On the cardboard stage he never sang it wrong
And the piper played the tune
And the drummer wore his spurs
But the song that the singer sang was for her
Now the singers song is never heard
And the visions he once saw are disappeared
Now they never dance or sing along
But on the cardboard stage he never sang it wrong
And the piper played the tune
And the drummer wore his spurs
But the song that the singer sang was for her
(break)
Ah..........
song performed by by Bee Gees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Suchitra Mitra
Just as a poet doesn’t have to write
Many poems to win your heart.
One good poem is wholesome
Enough to stir your heart’s strings.
Similarly, a singer doesn’t have to
Sing scores of songs to touch you
Deep down.
Just one heart-felt song is good enough
To etch your memories…for a lifetime.
I heard her, when I was barely in my teens,
I remembered her all through these years…
Today, when she died, I felt as if a part of me
Has gone forever, with her.
That one song, she sang, she sang it so beautifully,
None else could have crooned it so gracefully….
The song was Krishnokoli.
The singer is Suchitra Mitra.
Now she’s no more, yet I remember her,
Thank her, feel grateful to her, for that
One song she sang so wonderfully….
It has remained a part of me, and will
Remain with me, like a timeless beauty.
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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A Little Songbird
A little songbird sang
from a treetop high.
It sang for blue skies
for within to fly.
It sang out its message
at the first rays
of the dawning day.
It also sang for peace and love
within a world filled with unrest.
It sang a joyous message
for all those who wanted to hear
that little songbird
that sang in a treetop high.
13 January 2008
poem by David Harris
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Remembered
She sang, and I listened the whole song thro'.
(It was sweet, so sweet, the singing.)
The stars were out and the moon it grew
From a wee soft glimmer way out in the blue
To a bird thro' the heavens winging.
She sang, and the song trembled down to my breast,--
(It was sweet, so sweet the singing.)
As a dove just out of its fledgling nest,
And, putting its wings to the first sweet test,
Flutters homeward so wearily winging.
She sang and I said to my heart 'That song,
That was sweet, so sweet i' the singing,
Shall live with us and inspire us long,
And thou, my heart, shalt be brave and strong
For the sake of those words a-winging.'
The woman died and the song was still.
(It was sweet, so sweet, the singing.)
But ever I hear the same low trill,
Of the song that shakes my heart with a thrill,
And goes forever winging.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Insomnia & The Hole In The Universe
My brother kicked his feet to sleep
My brother kicked his feet to sleep
My brother kicked his feet to sleep
And I sang the dirge song
.
My brother never missed a beat
My brother kicked his feet to sleep, sweet feet
My brother kicked his feet to sleep
And I sang the dirge song
.
Angel, dont you have some bagels in my oven?
Lady, dont you know a man when you see one?
Crazy lady with the shiny shoes, where are you?
Kick you feet and calm the space that makes
You hollow
.
Little swamis got his bowl to eat
Little swami always walks his beat, sweet feet
Little swamis got his bowl to eat
And I sing the dirge song
.
Its amazing how they come to see
The little swami with his bowl to eat, sweet feet
The little swami only wears a sheet
And wont sing the dirge song
.
Anal, tight-assed soldier with that dogged heart
Put down your gun
We are ready to explode, we gotta take it smart
And take it slow
song performed by by Live
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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