The Third One
The three of them sat before the window looking at the sea.
One talked about the sea. The second listened. The third
neither spoke nor listened; he was deep in the sea; he floated.
Behind the window panes, his movements were slow, clear
in the thin pale blue. He was exploring a sunken ship.
He rang the dead bell for the watch; fine bubbles
rose bursting with a soft sound - suddenly,
'Did he drown? ' asked one; the other said: 'He drowned.' The
third one
looked at them helpless from the bottom of the sea, the way one
looks at drowned people.
-yannis ritsos
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
I should have listened to God
I should have listened to God
When he said that it would end
I should have listened to God
And been just friends
I should have listened to God
Before it was too late
I should have listened to God
But now I deal with fate
I should have listened to God
That it would break my heart
I should have listened to God
That it would fall apart
I should have listened to God
Because he loves me in everyway
I should have listened to God
And all that he had to say
I should have listened to God
And show what he made me to be
I should have listened to God
But I know he has forgiven me!
Window
I was staring out the window
The whole time he was talking to me
It was a filthy pane of glass
I couldn't get a clear view
As he went on and on
It wasn't the outside world I could see
Just the filthy pane that I was looking through
So I had to break the window
It just had to be
Better that I break the window
Than him or her or me
I was never focused on just one thing
My eyes got fixed when my mind got soft
It may looked like I'm concentrated on a very clear view
But I'm as good as asleep
I bet you didn't know
It takes a lot of it away if you do
So I had to break the window
It just had to be
Better that I break the window
Than him or her or me
So I had to break the window
It just had to be
Better that I break the window
Than him or her or me
Because the fact in fact
Whatevers in front of me is covering my view
So I can't see what I'm seeing in fact
I only see what I'm looking through
I had to break the window
It just had to be it was in my way
Better that I break the window
Then forget what I had to say
So again I've done the right thing
I was never worried about that
The answer's always been in clear view
But even when the window's clean
I still can't see for the fact
That when it's clean it's so clear
I cant tell what I'm looking through
So I had to break the window
It just had to be
Better that I break the window
Than him or her or me
I had to break the window
It just had to be it was in my way
Better that I break the window
Then forget what I had to say
I had to break the window
It was in my way
Better that I break a window
Then forget what I had to say
Or miss what I should see
Or breaking him or her or me
song performed by by Fiona Apple
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Red Rose
The little red rose tapped at my window—
Tapped at my window long years ago;
Glad would I run then, trip to the shadow,
Who was in hiding well did I know.
Last night I, nodding, heard at the casement
Soft knock-a-knocking come on the pane.
'Hush! 'Tis the lost rose taps at my window—
Red rose, oh, sweet rose, come back again!'
Listless I moved then, laughed at my fancies—
Wept at my fancies of years ago.
Slow went a-seeking who was in hiding,
Who came a-tapping—how should I know?
Pushed wide the window, leaned to the silence—
'Red rose, oh, sweet rose, come back again!'
'Twas but a dead branch, broken and brown branch,
Soft knock-a-knocking there on the pane.
poem by Dora Sigerson Shorter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Window
All night long, by a distant bell,
The passing hours were notched
On the dark, while her breathing rose and fell,
And the spark of life I watched
In her face was glowing or fading, -- who could tell? --
And the open window of the room,
With a flare of yellow light,
Was peering out into the gloom,
Like an eye that searched the night.
Oh, what do you see in the dark, little window, and why do you fear?
"I see that the garden is crowded with creeping forms of fear:
Little white ghosts in the locust-tree, that wave in the night-wind's breath,
And low in the leafy laurels the larking shadow of death."
Sweet, clear notes of a waking bird
Told of the passing away
Of the dark, -- and my darling may have heard;
For she smiled in her sleep, while the ray
Of the rising dawn spoke joy without a word,
Till the splendor born in the east outburned
The yellow lamplight, pale and thin,
And the open window slowly turned
To the eye of the morning, looking in.
Oh, what do you see in the room, little window, that makes you so bright?
"I see that a child is asleep on her pillow, soft and white,
With the rose of life on her tips, and the breath of life in her breast,
And the arms of God around her as she quietly takes her rest."
poem by Henry Van Dyke
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Girl At The Window
In the town lived a girl so fair
Her mother would not dare
To let her anywhere
She was a lonely girl
John and paul and ringo and george
Were playing lovely tunes
From the window of her room
By the light of the moon
Hey girl there at the window I wish you would come and see me
Ive got so much to tell you so much I want you to see
In the fields lived a lonely boy
Whod wander every night
Just to see her window light
Then he was happier
Then hed sit upon the ground
Just to listen to the sound
Of the music going round
And he would call to her
Hey girl there at the window I wish you would come and see me
Ive got so much to tell you so much I want you to see
One night her mother said I think its time for bed
The little girl crept down the stairs free as a bird
Hey girl there at the window I wish you would come and see me
Ive got so much to tell you so much I want you to see
She met the boy sitting on the ground
And they listened to the sound
Growing distant as they found
They were happy now
Hey girl there at the window I wish you would come and see me
Ive got so much to tell you so much I want you to see
(repeat)
song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The thing that stands there
is the window
and there's a man on it
he's waiting for the man
with the panes made of sight
on the window of the heart
in the house of pain
his threshold is spelled
the spell out of the hints
the corner loneliness
unwipeable trace
to settle in a word
chiseled in a clock
a second counted down
on the wall that beats
where to come in with a whisper
can only be done by a step
clear of any thought
bursting in the word
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Shoulda' Listened
Ohhh... yeah
I should have stopped, looked and listened before I proceeded
But caution I threw to the wind
Manyve been placed in my life to help lead me and guide me
But I didnt want to talk to them
So I ignored their advice and I tried to disguise pain from you and all the things you did
The wrong road was chosen my heart has been broken
Cause I didnt want to hear them
Shoulda said what I didnt say
Shoulda went right but I went left that day
Shoulda prayed but instead I strayed
Shoulda gone a different way
Shoulda listened to my mother
When she said that you were no good for me
Shoulda listened to my pastors
When they told me turn around and leave you be
Shoulda listened to my sisters
When they said that I was too blind to see
But I see the light somehow
And I vow to listen now
I had the chance to advance and it seemed like the best
Opportunity that I could get
I didnt bother to see if my people agreed
Maybe I knew what they would say and yet
I didnt control it I kept going for it
When I shoulda known it wasnt in Gods plan
Had to let go, had I listened before
I wouldve said no from the door
Shoulda said what I didnt say
Shoulda went right but I went left that day
Shoulda stayed but instead I strayed
Shoulda gone a different way
Shoulda listened to my mother
When she said that you were no good for me
Shoulda listened to my pastors
When they told me turn around and leave you be
Shoulda listened to my sisters
When they said that I was too blind to see
But I see the light somehow
And I vow to listen now
Shoulda listened to my mother
When she said that you were no good for me
Shoulda listened to my pastors
When they told me turn around and leave you be
Shoulda listened to my sisters
When they said that I was too blind to see
But I see the light somehow
And I vow to listen now
Shoulda listened I know I shoulda listened
But I know that I vow to listen now
Shoulda listened I know I shoulda listened
But you dont have to tell me twice I'm going to listen now
Shoulda listened if only I had listened
But Ive learned my lesson now
Im gonna listen now
Shoulda listened cause I just cant be missing
All the things God has for me
Repeat till end
song performed by by Out Of Eden
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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0016 Orpheus - or his lute?
It was his listening; he listened
to himself; he listened to himself
listening to his lute; his lute perforce
listened to itself; listened to itself
listening to him..listened to
the measures of all things, even
the measures of mankind..
space, air, listened to his listening;
listened as the eagle made a silent,
perfect circle around a centre in its mind
high above Delphi that clear morning;
listened to the silent cliffs across the gorge,
silently ominous in their listening;
the stream which trickles down past the carved theatre,
cool and clear enough to wash your face;
look up the mountain and hope it sacred, holy; it
plashes like curiosity pursued, down towards the river
which is a mere pencil line at the bottom of the gorge
in this so unexpected place;
the sea barely visible in the distance,
misty with its myths unspoken;
space listened and loved his music, allowed this scene;
a cool air, this morning elsewhere hot, descends gently
down the mountain to the gorge, curves past these rocks
where a dark shadow here or there
could be where the Sibyl listened too.
we thought, boarding the hot bus,
that we were tourists; then we looked,
became pilgrims; then something more,
more like worshippers of the unknown god
whose altar we left behind in Athens,
silent beyond questions,
listening to the space
as if the space itself
listened to some instrument well tuned,
a voice perhaps, silent, powerful.
the sun, the sunlight, moved from rock to rock
this cool, clear morning, waking
clumps of sparse bright flowers, woken
again by morning bees
who may be unaware – or born to know—
they forage at a world heritage site as do we visitors,
at Delphi, where still truth speaks in silence;
bees who listen to each other,
dance their satnav trails,
listen inwardly to flowers,
to honey, and what else
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Jane and You and the Hollow Tree.
Jane waited for you
by the narrow road
that led to Linch farm
the water tower visible
against the afternoon sky
of pale blue and white
cold clouds
she was dressed
in a grey coat
and her dark hair
was pinned back
with grips
you noticed
blueness
about her lips
the cold taking toll
wasn't sure
if you would show
she said
the coldness
and such
I said I would
and I say
what I mean
you replied
once you were close to her
she took her hands
out of the coat pockets
and linked her arm
through yours
where shall we go?
she asked
you know it better
around here than I do
you choose
you said
let's go up
the dust track
to the hollow tree
on the way up
to the Downs
she said
ok
you said
and so you walked along
and up the dust track
side by side
and she talked
of the wintery trees
and what birds
there were still about
and how she liked
spring best with the coming
of flowers and birds nesting
and you listened
looking at her
as she spoke
watching her lips move
how when she spoke
her white teeth showed
and now and then
her tongue would show
and it reminded you
of that kiss she gave you
up by Diddling church
as you stood looking
at the grave stones
and she gazed at you
and then kissed
and her tongue
touched yours
and it was like heaven
as if someone
had opened up
your heart
and stuck
their tongue in there
and as you thought
about that kiss
she talked of some girl
of a cowman
who'd got pregnant
and how did that happen?
she asked
and you said nothing
but listened on
and then you reached
the hollow tree
and climbed inside
and sat down
looking out
of the hole
in the side
and it felt cosy
in there
like a small home
and she leaned
in against you
and there was silence
and you looked at her
at her eyes
and hair
and how her lips
were parted
and her white teeth
showed and her tongue
waiting to speak
and you wondered
about that kiss again
and whether
it would happen this time
there in the hollow tree
out of sight
of others
and she showed you
tucked between
her small breasts
a small locket
which used to be
her mother's.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Church-Bell
As I was lying in my bed
I heard the church-bell ring;
Before one solemn word was said
A bird began to sing.
I heard a dog begin to bark
And a bold crowing cock;
The bell, between the cold and dark,
Tolled. It was five o'clock.
The church-bell tolled, and the bird sang,
A clear true voice he had;
The cock crew, and the church-bell rang,
I knew it had gone mad.
A hand reached down from the dark skies,
It took the bell-rope thong,
The bell cried "Look! Lift up your eyes!"
The clapper shook to song.
The iron clapper laughed aloud,
Like clashing wind and wave;
The bell cried out "Be strong and proud!"
Then, with a shout, "Be brave!"
The rumbling of the market-carts,
The pounding of men's feet
Were drowned in song; "Lift up your hearts!"
The song was loud and sweet.
Slow and slow the great bell swung,
It hung in the steeple mute;
And people tore its living tongue
Out by the very root.
poem by Elinor Morton Wylie
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I Shouldve Listened
I SHOULD'VE LISTENED WHEN MY MOM SHOWED ME RIGHT FROM WRONG
I SHOULD'VE LISTENED TO MY MOM WHEN SHE SAID BEING IN THE STREETS ALL NIGHT LONG WAS WRONG
I SHOULD'VE LISTENED TO MY MOM WHEN SHE TOLD ME THA TI WAS IN THE WRONG
I SHOULD'VE LISTENED TO MY MOM WHEN SHE WAS ONLY TRYING TO KEEP ME SAFE
I SHOULD'VE LISTENED TO ALL THE THINGS THAT MY MOM ONCE TOLD ME...NOW ITS TOO LATE CAUSE IM GONE...
I WAS SIXTEEN AND WAS BURIED 6 FEET FROM HEAD TO FEET...
I SHOULD'VE LISTENED.
poem by Gaby Pineda
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Down In The Bottom
In case youre wondering its alive and well
That little habit that you left with me
Here in the suburbs where its hard to tell
If I got the bear or if the bear got me
How did you know that it would take me down
Down to the bottom of the wine dark sea
Where you were waiting there to bring me round
Where you knew all the dopest cuts to be
Drowned at the bottom of your mystery
Down in the bottom of the wine dark sea
Saw your old lady in the park today
The legendary smile is wearing thin
Behind that guessing game you make her play
Now that she knows that she could never win
I guess youre never gonna take her down
Down to the bottom of your little black heart
Lay with her naked on the cool hard ground
To watch the sun rise in the dopest part
Down in the bottom where your lifeline shows
Down in the bottom where nobody goes
Did you loose your way find another
Did you make your play or just run for cover
Is its safe to say you got burned today?
I like the feathers and I love the hat
I like that little gypsy tune youre humming
I guess Im happy now weve had this chat
Oh yeah Im really glad I saw you coming
There in the corner of the eastern sky
The tortured angel of your rising sign
Darkens the evening with his one good eye
An evil omen of the dopest kind
Down in the bottom where your demons fly
Down in the bottom of the eastern sky
Down in the bottom where your lifeline shows
Down in the bottom where nobody goes
Drowned at the bottom of your mystery
Down in the bottom of the wine dark sea
song performed by by Steely Dan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Woes Versus Rues II
One on one, against and with each other
What's a bottle of alcohol?
"Brothers are bound to each other…"
I listened carefully, the smoke lifting
"Because they are bound by blood, "
I listened carefully, remembering everything
"tethered by compulsory empathy."
I listened carefully, the whiskey sweating
"I do not want that..."
I listened carefully, the sweat soldering down
"I want to be your comrade."
I listened carefully, the echoes rupturing painfully
I have never asked:
"What is a comrade? "
poem by Norman Santos
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I Wonder What It Feels Like to be Drowned?
Look at my knees,
That island rising from the steamy seas!
The candles a tall lightship; my two hands
Are boats and barges anchored to the sands,
With mighty cliffs all round;
They’re full of wine and riches from far lands….
I wonder what it feels like to be drowned?
I can make caves,
By lifting up the island and huge waves
And storms, and then with head and ears well under
Blow bubbles with a monstrous roar like thunder,
A bull-of-Bashan sound.
The seas run high and the boats split asunder….
I wonder what it feels like to be drowned?
The thin soap slips
And slithers like a shark under the ships.
My toes are on the soap-dish—that’s the effect
Of my huge storms; an iron steamer’s wrecked.
The soap slides round and round;
He’s biting the old sailors, I expect….
I wonder what it feels like to be drowned?
poem by Robert Graves
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A.d.d
She told me that she had A.D.D
I asked her what was one plus two, she said: "three"
I was so impressed that I asked her again
What was seven plus three, and she said: "ten"
I asked her more additions and she got them all correct
She was very intelligent by what I could detect
Then as I tried to talk to her more, but she got distracted
I then tried to get her attention then she overreacted
She then told me something that threw me for a shock
Her having A.D.D, wasn't what I had thought
She could add quickly and correctly which was true
But paying attention to others she could not do
She was easily distracted from the projects she was on
And also forgetful from the tasks she's undergone
She said she is sometimes forgetful from day to day
Then she looked at me and asked; "what did I say? "
I asked her some more questions and she never listened
So I spoke directly to her, and her eyes they glistened
She spoke to me, then she called me someone else's name
"And I don't like to follow instructions! " to me she did exclaim
"I won't finish my work or duties or chores and I never will"
"Only thing that helps me, if and when I take a small pill"
"I will avoid the things that will take a lot of mental strain"
"As this is who I am, and my thoughts and my brain"
Then I asked her what was one plus one and she said: "two"
She then looked at me and walked away, and said: "adieu."
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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Timmy The Mole
Timmy the mole dug a winding hole
to keep his family in,
but one rainy day the water found its way
and his family had to run or swim.
As fast as they ran the water began
to touch the last one’s tail.
“You must try to run faster to avoid a disaster, ”
said Timmy, as they looked certain to fail.
They ran up a slope, which gave them some hope,
as the chasing water seemed to slow down,
but they came to a dead end and could no longer ascend,
and it looked certain that they would drown.
The moles frantically dug away, on this gloomy day
as they tried desperately to get above ground.
They saw light above and kissed each other with love,
and escaped from being drowned.
poem by Orlando Belo
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The days went through far too many faces
the days went through far too many faces
and all the cards dealt in a game of prey
slipped through the hands
like leaves through the boughs
to reach the bottom pit
and a pendulum sound
the houses went through far too many doors
and closed their windowed eyes ushered stricken blue
a twin handful of earth ancestor I found
to reach the bottom pit
and a pendulum sound
the murders took place in the streets of devil
that spoke in a language foreign known to none
detected on a track of an evolution crown
to reach the bottom pit
and the pendulum sound
an we drank our wines not knowing their names
floated in the casks down the poisoned rivers
built ourselves in walls air lost in the ground
to reach the bottom pit
and the pendulum sound
Inspired by Edgar Allan Poe
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Line Is Fine
Look at me I'm so disgusting
I will never find another
Quite like you
You make me blue
With the things you do
Look at you you're so familiar
We could be so cool together
All the time
Could all be fine
We're on the line
The line is fine
Open up mah window
The line is fine
Standing on the ledge
Well I don't look down
Looking at the people
Well they all look fine
It's not just life or death
Yesterday we talked together
But tonight it's just the weather
Chillin' me
What's the point in silly talking
We could get there quicker walking
Down the line
could all be fine
But we're on the line
The line is fine
But staring at the faces
Standing in a row
Think of all the places
That they have yet to go
They don't know
song performed by by Travis from Good Feeling
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Forcing The Window To Flow
At the window, rain drives
Drizzles and drizzles glow and go
Pushing and loosing the window to and fro
And some-one asked, who is at the window?
Pushing and pushing the window and dash?
In the dark of the night free and roll
Going for the next fresh candle of the day
At the window a hand goes and more, who is at the window?
She cried and roared the mall
And forced the window and banged and go.
poem by Paul Mwenelupembe
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Plaintive Night
The evening lay hot and sticky.
I lay wakeful, sleepless and fretful
Drowning in the sultry heat.
The sounds of eventide drifted in
To ooze across my open window.
As I listened with attentive ear,
Each errant sound was carried to my bed
By the winds gentle proposition.
She gently trembled silken curtains to rustle.
A disembodied voice in the plaintive night,
To bring the pungent scents of the frangipan.
The chitterings of playful cicadas
In deep dark velvet midnight.
Far off a murmured accompaniment
Brought soft and low across the turgid air.
The gently whispering sound of the sea.
P H Brookes Copyright 2012
poem by Paul Brookes
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