The Fear
A lantern light from deeper in the barn
Shone on a man and woman in the door
And threw their lurching shadows on a house
Near by, all dark in every glossy window.
A horse's hoof pawed once the hollow floor,
And the back of the gig they stood beside
Moved in a little. The man grasped a wheel,
The woman spoke out sharply, 'Whoa, stand still!'
'I saw it just as plain as a white plate,'
She said, 'as the light on the dashboard ran
Along the bushes at the roadside-a man's face.
You must have seen it too.'
'I didn't see it.
Are you sure--'
'Yes, I'm sure!'
'-it was a face?'
'Joel, I'll have to look. I can't go in,
I can't, and leave a thing like that unsettled.
Doors locked and curtains drawn will make no difference.
I always have felt strange when we came home
To the dark house after so long an absence,
And the key rattled loudly into place
Seemed to warn someone to be getting out
At one door as we entered at another.
What if I'm right, and someone all the time-
Don't hold my arm!'
'I say it's someone passing.'
'You speak as if this were a travelled road.
You forget where we are. What is beyond
That he'd be going to or coming from
At such an hour of night, and on foot too.
What was he standing still for in the bushes?'
'It's not so very late-it's only dark.
There's more in it than you're inclined to say.
Did he look like--?'
'He looked like anyone.
I'll never rest to-night unless I know.
Give me the lantern.'
'You don't want the lantern.'
She pushed past him and got it for herself.
'You're not to come,' she said. 'This is my business.
If the time's come to face it, I'm the one
To put it the right way. He'd never dare-
Listen! He kicked a stone. Hear that, hear that!
He's coming towards us. Joel, go in-please.
Hark!-I don't hear him now. But please go in.'
'In the first place you can't make me believe it's--'
'It is-or someone else he's sent to watch.
And now's the time to have it out with him
While we know definitely where he is.
Let him get off and he'll be everywhere
Around us, looking out of trees and bushes
Till I sha'n't dare to set a foot outdoors.
And I can't stand it. Joel, let me go!'
'But it's nonsense to think he'd care enough.'
'You mean you couldn't understand his caring.
Oh, but you see he hadn't had enough-
Joel, I won't-I won't-I promise you.
We mustn't say hard things. You mustn't either.'
'I'll be the one, if anybody goes!
But you give him the advantage with this light.
What couldn't he do to us standing here!
And if to see was what he wanted, why
He has seen all there was to see and gone.'
He appeared to forget to keep his hold,
But advanced with her as she crossed the grass.
'What do you want?' she cried to all the dark.
She stretched up tall to overlook the light
That hung in both hands hot against her skirt.
'There's no one; so you're wrong,' he said.
'There is.-
What do you want?' she cried, and then herself
Was startled when an answer really came.
'Nothing.' It came from well along the road.
She reached a hand to Joel for support:
The smell of scorching woollen made her faint.
'What are you doing round this house at night?'
'Nothing.' A pause: there seemed no more to say.
And then the voice again: 'You seem afraid.
I saw by the way you whipped up the horse.
I'll just come forward in the lantern light
And let you see.'
'Yes, do.-Joel, go back!'
She stood her ground against the noisy steps
That came on, but her body rocked a little.
'You see,' the voice said.
'Oh.' She looked and looked.
'You don't see-I've a child here by the hand.'
'What's a child doing at this time of night--?'
'Out walking. Every child should have the memory
Of at least one long-after-bedtime walk.
What, son?'
'Then I should think you'd try to find
Somewhere to walk--'
'The highway as it happens-
We're stopping for the fortnight down at Dean's.'
'But if that's all-Joel-you realize-
You won't think anything. You understand?
You understand that we have to be careful.
This is a very, very lonely place.
Joel!' She spoke as if she couldn't turn.
The swinging lantern lengthened to the ground,
It touched, it struck it, clattered and went out.
poem by Robert Frost
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Comedian Joel Marks
Comedian Joel Marks
Joel Marks was born in D.C.
does a standup act with funny Jewish comedy.
He traveled across the country for all to see,
with National Acts, more than three.
He did 22 shows, but no more,
he misses the shows, maybe some more are in store.
His mother finally saw his act before she passed,
she thought he was funny, he made her laugh.
Joel did a prank when he was young,
he dressed up like a girl, he had a lot of fun.
He wanted to get into his sister's fraternity,
he says 'My parents knew and liked the pictures of me'.
Of course Joel does a funny Jewish act,
he’s not a cross dresser, that’s a fact.
Joel also drives a very fast car,
like his career it has gone quite far.
I wish your more success in the coming years,
making people laugh and bringing them to tears.
Written By Suzae Chevalier on November 3,2011
poem by Christina Sunrise
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Comedian Joel Marks
Comedian Joel Marks
Joel Marks was born in D.C.
does a standup act with funny Jewish comedy.
He traveled across the country for all to see,
with National Acts, more than three.
He did 22 shows, but no more,
he misses the shows, maybe some more are in store.
His mother finally saw his act before she passed,
she thought he was funny, he made her laugh.
Joel did a prank when he was young,
he dressed up like a girl, he had a lot of fun.
He wanted to get into his sister's fraternity,
he says 'My parents knew and liked the pictures of me'.
Of course Joel does a funny Jewish act,
he's not a cross dresser, that's a fact.
Joel also drives a very fast car,
like his career it has gone quite far.
I wish your more success in the coming years,
making people laugh and bringing them to tears.
By Suzae Chevalier on November 3,2011
poem by Suzae Chevalier
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ive Seen That Face Before / Libertango
Strange, Ive seen that face before,
Seen him hanging round my door,
Like a hawk stealing for the pray,
Like the night waiting for the day,
Strange, he shadows me back home,
Footsteps echo on the stones,
Rainy nights, an hustling boulevard,
Parisian music, drifting from the bars,
Tu cherches quoi, rencontrer la mort,
Tu te prends pour qui, toi aussi tu detestes la vie,
Dance in bars and restaurants,
Home with anyone who wants,
Strange hes standing there alone,
Staring eyes chill me to the bone.
Dans sa chambre, joel et sa valise,
Un regard sur ses fringues,
Sur les murs, des photos,
Sans regret, sans mlo,
La porte est claque, joel est barr.
song performed by by Grace Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Jeannies Afraid Of The Dark
Her two little feet would come running into
Our bedroom almost every night
Her soft little face would be wet from her tears
And her little heart pounding with fright
Shed hold out her arms, then shed climb in beside us
In her small voice, wed hear her remark
Mommie and daddy, can I sleep here with you
cause jeannies afraid of the dark
One day in the summer, we took some flowers
To place on some old family graves
Jeannie said, mommy, aint it dark in the ground
Oh, daddy, Id be so afraid
Then she looked up at her daddy and me
And said somethin that broke both our hearts
She said, when I die, please dont bury me
cause jeannies afraid of the dark
Jeannie was always afraid of the dark
And we never could understand why
cause we looked after jeannie with the very best of care
Because jeannie was our only child
Perhaps it was death that she was so afraid of
cause it took her one dark stormy night
I think we always knew that wed never see jeannie grown
cause it seemed she was destined to die
But on jeannies grave, we placed an eternal flame
That glows and never loses its spark
And on the darkest night, theres always a light
cause jeannies afraid of the dark
Our jeannies afraid of the dark
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lantern Fly
Lantern fly
just like you
I am fascinated with lights
especially in the dark
I want to get close
even to the littlest light.
Lantern fly
just like me
do you know what love is?
just like me
do you know what sorrow is?
Lantern fly
come in to my hut
and let's watch together
the light of my little lamp
just be careful
not to get too close
because it may lead you
to your end.
poem by Marites C. Cayetano
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dancer In The Dark
The only hope in this endless night
Is to follow you through the shadows of the deepest blue, away from the light
I hear your voice is calling me: "Don't be afraid"
But there's something deep inside of me
Forcing me to turn away
Take my hand, don't turn away, I need you to stay
I know a place where the light and the dark can become as one
This loneliness is killing me
Is there a place we both can live?
You're the dancer in the dark
You're the child of the light
You're the sinner of all time
You're the saint with wings so white
You're the distant shape in the night
You're all the innocence left alive
You're like tainted sun
You're the star shining bright
song performed by by In Flames
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Tree
In an English forest on Nottingham’s Sherwood National Park
stood a large wide oak tree probably as old as the Ark.
Oddly enough I had never seen this old proud tree before,
it sort of pulled me to it, as though it wanted me to explore.
I slowly walked around the trunk and looked closely at the tree
admiring its form, its wrinkled bark, every inch fascinated me.
My fingertips touched its bark and felt its rugged texture and shape,
it seemed so alive, and I was overwhelmed for heavens sake.
The sturdy trunk appeared to be expanding and growing ever wide,
then I thought I heard a child’s voice coming from deep inside.
Against the deeply wrinkled bark I placed my hands and ear,
just in case by some strange chance a voice I really did hear.
It seems as though I heard nothing so I gradually stepped away,
as I did the tree trunk looked as if to shrink, shudder and sway.
I rubbed my eyes in disbelief; I couldn’t believe what I’d seen
I reached out and touched it to make sure it wasn’t a dream.
Several times I stepped back and forth from this unusual tree,
seeing it expand and contract was becoming too much for me.
On my last step backwards I definitely heard a child’s voice say,
“Help me, help me, I’m trapped in here, please don’t go away.”
Without thinking I answered, “What are you doing inside the tree?
How long have you been in there and can’t you get free? ”
Sadly she said, “I don’t know how long I’ve been in here,
but I can’t get out will you please help me to get clear.”
The little girl started crying and pleaded with me to stay,
“Please don’t go, please help me, please try to find a way? ”
“Try to stay calm, ” I said, “I’ll examine the tree once more,
you found your way in, so there must be a kind of door.”
As I closely examined the tree I asked the child her name,
“Martha, I’m six years old and my mother’s name’s the same.”
To stop her fretting more I asked what colour shoes she had on.
“I have no shoes upon my feet somehow they have gone.”
“I’m sorry Martha I cannot find a way in I’ve looked and I’ve tried
I just don’t know how you managed to get yourself inside? ”
Sobbing she said, “I don’t know either, but it seems like a very long time.
Could you possibly look inside the tree? You could if you climb.”
“Alright Martha, I’ll climb up to that branch sticking out to my right.
I’m sorry there is no way into the trunk; and soon it will be night.
Let’s go over this again and try to remember how you got inside.”
“All I can remember was lying in the tall grass, trying to hide.”
“Were you playing the game of hide and seek with your friends? ”
“No, my father told me to hide and later my mother he would send.
It’s slowly coming back to me now I had also been hit on my head
I remember I went very dizzy and then everything else went red.
I woke up with a headache and found myself inside this tree,
I never saw my mummy she must have forgotten me.”
“Now then Martha did this happen recently, or was it some time ago
was it yesterday, a couple of days since, or a fortnight or so? ”
“No, I think it must have been longer because of the way you’re dressed
I’ve never seen anyone with clothes like yours; you do so look a mess.”
“How can you see me Martha, is it through a nut-hole in the tree? ”
“No, I can see you through the bark, as you are meant to be.”
“Is it dark inside the tree trunk, or can you see any light? ”
“Well, It’s not wet, it doesn’t smell, but it is as dark as night,
but high above there is some sort of lamp shining really bright.”
“Alright Martha, if you can get to it, a way out is in sight.”
“Hello, hello, you standing outside the tree, can you hear me?
Thank you. I’ve entered the light and my daddy I can see.
I didn’t realise he was so close I could have climbed up here before
and how I got inside the tree will be a mystery for evermore.”
poem by Orlando Belo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Vocation
When the gong sounds ten in the morning and I walk to school by our
lane.
Every day I meet the hawker crying, "Bangles, crystal
bangles!"
There is nothing to hurry him on, there is no road he must
take, no place he must go to, no time when he must come home.
I wish I were a hawker, spending my day in the road, crying,
"Bangles, crystal bangles!"
When at four in the afternoon I come back from the school,
I can see through the gate of that house the gardener digging
the ground.
He does what he likes with his spade, he soils his clothes
with dust, nobody takes him to task if he gets baked in the sun or
gets wet.
I wish I were a gardener digging away at the garden with
nobody to stop me from digging.
Just as it gets dark in the evening and my mother sends me to
bed,
I can see through my open window the watchman walking up and
down.
The lane is dark and lonely, and the street-lamp stands like
a giant with one red eye in its head.
The watchman swings his lantern and walks with his shadow at
his side, and never once goes to bed in his life.
I wish I were a watchman walking the streets all night,
chasing the shadows with my lantern.
poem by Rabindranath Tagore
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And In The House
And in the house
All is now silent
I rise and grope
In the dark, dark
And lo! Before me
A blue light I
A thin blue light
See I all a-shining
And leading me
And guiding me
Into the dark
In the long night
In to the long night!
Ah! father, father
Where are
You leading me:
The thin blue light
Now veers to here
And then to there
Now up
Now down
It plays:
And in the night
The long lone night
The seconds turn and turn!
And in the house
The lonely house
A soundless sound
Is humming:
The light
The thin blue light
Is leading still leading
And in the night
No time is passing
No hope of dawn
Or day
Is coming:
But dark
And dark:
Yet in the night
This night
Of black
A thrill felt I
And happiness
That never felt!
poem by Emmanuel George Cefai
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Stranger In My Own House
(a capella: she said: boy, your luck is running out...she make me feel like a stranger...in my own house)
I come stumbling in at a quarter to three
To the sound of my own dog growlin at me
Im scared to move or turn on a light
Youve got me creepin around in the dark
Like a thief in the night
Ive got no excuse, I should have known
Ive got no place to live
I never feel at home
I walk into the kitchen to see whats there
Im tired and Im hungry but the cupboards bare
Ive been working all day and all night too
I cant believe this is all I have to come back to
I guess Ill take a look upstairs, in the danger zone
I wonder what Im doing here
When I never feel at home
Im a stranger in my own house
Ive got the keys to the door
But Im still locked out
Im a stranger in my own house
Ill huff and Ill puff and Ill blow this house down
Cant be a stranger in my own house
I see the do not disturb sign on my bedroom door
What is this sheet and pillow laying on the floor
I wore out my welcome
I hear you loud and clear
Its time to get a few things straight around here
Ive got no excuse, I should have known
Ive got a place to live but I never feel at home
Im just a stranger in my own house
Ive got the keys to the door
But Im still locked out
Stranger in my own house
Ill huff and Ill puff and Ill blow this house down
Cant be a stranger in my own house
Ive got no excuse, I should have known
With a woman like you Im better off alone
Im a stranger in my own house
Ive got the keys to the door
But Im still locked out
Im just a stranger in my own house
Oh, honey Im home
Im just a stranger in my own house
Im just a stranger in my own house
You got a lion on your hands girl, not a mouse!
Im just a stranger in my own house
Im just a stranger in my own house
Well, somebodys got to go...
Stranger
Stranger
song performed by by Foreigner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lonely Road
Tis dark and lonely,
Walking here alone.
This cold stony road
I have made my own.
Tis where the brave few
Dare to venture thru.
They walk here in search-
Search of life anew.
The coldness chills inside;
I grit my teeth and hold on.
Though sad and long, I make this road my own
Tis lonely out here,
To lean on, there's far and few.
So many times, i cry,
Screaming, 'Where are you? '
I want to turn around,
Quit and walk away.
The pressure is too much-
Too much for me to stay.
But then i see, o'er the hill
A faint glimering light.
Hope springs eternal
In the darkest of nights.
You come close and
I feel you take my hand,
Pull me up, help me fight.
You help me stand.
'My child, ' you whisper,
'I walked this road, still do.
Only now i walk it
Just to help you.'
I feel his might all around
As with faith renewed i push on.
Raise my hands high
As i cry,
'This lonely road i make my own.'
Let everyone leave me, l
Let them walk away.
I'm getting out of here, I wasn't meant to stay.
This lonely road is the only way home.
Walk it I must, even if I'm alone.
So hear it now, as I toil by, this lonely road, I make my own!
It's pain and hardship
I will do my best to bear,
I will keep pushing on
When there's no one nowhere.
Cause this lonely road
I made my own.
poem by Joses Tirtabudi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Innocent Child
I was just a child, an innocent child
I didn't know when, I didn't know how.
I was just a child, an innocent child.
She couldn't save me from what happened,
even though she tried. She always tried.
she was my guardian angel.
I was just a child, an innocent child.
I couldn't be saved then, and I cant be saved now.
The dark angel came over, knocked on my door.
sucked the life out of my family, I was only 5.
I was just a child, and innocent child.
I didn't understand, Where did they go? What happened to mommy and daddy? What happened to sissy? Why didn't they come home last night?
They brought the car to my house, thought someone else would be home, but it was just me, just a little 5 year old..I looked at it... I saw the twists and the turns... the dents and the broken glass.. the scars will always be there.. I see it slamming into a ditch..rolling, rolling, and when it stops.
Silence...
I was just a child, an innocent child.
I didn't understand. how could that happen.. what happened?
I was just an innocent child, the innocent child.
She went away that night.. and she never came back.
poem by Forever Gone
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Stories Of Hope Series #12 Forsaken
My heart was forsaken by the one I loved
She said my love wasn’t good enough.
If I truly loved her I would give her the material things
Necklaces, pearls, and diamond rings.
She said that love is in the giving
Without these things life is not worth living.
That’s when I decided to change my tune
I couldn’t get away too soon.
I took my heart and hid it deep in my chest
And to protect it I would do my best.
I became like a zombie- mindless and blank
And my heart I did forsake.
Surrounded by people that I did not see
Feeling hurt and angry as can be.
Friends and family started to pull away.
there was nothing left for them to say.
Then I was walking home from work one night
I glanced down the street, there was this
Woman rubbing her feet.
As I got closer I could see that her ankle
Was as swollen as can be.
Can I help you? Do you need a hand?
She answered: well! “If you could
Help me try to stand.”
Her foot so swollen she screamed in pain
Trying to walk would be in vain.
I asked her: where do you live?
She said: “up the block- the house on the corner
On the second floor.”
I knew that she could not walk no more.
I swooped her up in my arms, and started down the street
The smell of her perfume delicious and sweet.
I had never really looked at her face until then
She had light brown hair, and eyes as well
When I felt my heart begin to swell.
A smile from ear to ear, and of me she had no fear.
I carried her all the way home, and up the steps
To her door. (I felt as if I had been here before)
I asked: do you need a hand to get in?
She looked at me with a grin.
She said: you carried me this far, if you’d like
Some coffee, I’ll open the jar.”
I opened the door and carried her to a chair
The apartment looked small and comfortable
And quite fair.
I said: I’ll make the coffee! You just sit and rest
I’m not good at this, but I’ll do my best.
I made the coffee and we sat and talked
Time passed by quickly and we didn’t know
That the sun was coming up, and it was time to go.
The sun shone thru the blinds creating reflections
On the mirrored wall.
Prisms of light surrounded our faces
And we saw our faces all aglow
It was truly amazing and quite a show.
I asked her if I could see her again
And hopefully become more than a friend.
She said: I would really like that to.
So I told her I will call on you.
My heart had finally become free, and took me
Out of this misery.
For six months we dated and enjoyed each others company
The riches I gave her, she gave back to me.
Love has no price, but yet worth more than gold
And it is something that we can truly hold.
Not in our hands but in our hearts, and it becomes the biggest part.
We had become more than friends, and I guess you know the end.
HOPE IS THE KEY TO SET OURSELVES FREE.
poem by Louis Rams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lazarus
“No, Mary, there was nothing—not a word.
Nothing, and always nothing. Go again
Yourself, and he may listen—or at least
Look up at you, and let you see his eyes.
I might as well have been the sound of rain,
A wind among the cedars, or a bird;
Or nothing. Mary, make him look at you;
And even if he should say that we are nothing,
To know that you have heard him will be something.
And yet he loved us, and it was for love
The Master gave him back. Why did he wait
So long before he came? Why did he weep?
I thought he would be glad—and Lazarus—
To see us all again as he had left us—
All as it was, all as it was before.”
Mary, who felt her sister’s frightened arms
Like those of someone drowning who had seized her,
Fearing at last they were to fail and sink
Together in this fog-stricken sea of strangeness,
Fought sadly, with bereaved indignant eyes,
To find again the fading shores of home
That she had seen but now could see no longer
Now she could only gaze into the twilight,
And in the dimness know that he was there,
Like someone that was not. He who had been
Their brother, and was dead, now seemed alive
Only in death again—or worse than death;
For tombs at least, always until today,
Though sad were certain. There was nothing certain
For man or God in such a day as this;
For there they were alone, and there was he—
Alone; and somewhere out of Bethany,
The Master—who had come to them so late,
Only for love of them and then so slowly,
And was for their sake hunted now by men
Who feared Him as they feared no other prey—
For the world’s sake was hidden. “Better the tomb
For Lazarus than life, if this be life,”
She thought; and then to Martha, “No, my dear,”
She said aloud; “not as it was before.
Nothing is ever as it was before,
Where Time has been. Here there is more than Time;
And we that are so lonely and so far
From home, since he is with us here again,
Are farther now from him and from ourselves
Than we are from the stars. He will not speak
Until the spirit that is in him speaks;
And we must wait for all we are to know,
Or even to learn that we are not to know.
Martha, we are too near to this for knowledge,
And that is why it is that we must wait.
Our friends are coming if we call for them,
And there are covers we’ll put over him
To make him warmer. We are too young, perhaps,
To say that we know better what is best
Than he. We do not know how old he is.
If you remember what the Master said,
Try to believe that we need have no fear.
Let me, the selfish and the careless one,
Be housewife and a mother for tonight;
For I am not so fearful as you are,
And I was not so eager.”
Martha sank
Down at her sister’s feet and there sat watching
A flower that had a small familiar name
That was as old as memory, but was not
The name of what she saw now in its brief
And infinite mystery that so frightened her
That life became a terror. Tears again
Flooded her eyes and overflowed. “No, Mary,”
She murmured slowly, hating her own words
Before she heard them, “you are not so eager
To see our brother as we see him now;
Neither is he who gave him back to us.
I was to be the simple one, as always,
And this was all for me.” She stared again
Over among the trees where Lazarus,
Who seemed to be a man who was not there,
Might have been one more shadow among shadows,
If she had not remembered. Then she felt
The cool calm hands of Mary on her face,
And shivered, wondering if such hands were real.
“The Master loved you as he loved us all,
Martha; and you are saying only things
That children say when they have had no sleep.
Try somehow now to rest a little while;
You know that I am here, and that our friends
Are coming if I call.”
Martha at last
Arose, and went with Mary to the door,
Where they stood looking off at the same place,
And at the same shape that was always there
As if it would not ever move or speak,
And always would be there. “Mary, go now,
Before the dark that will be coming hides him.
I am afraid of him out there alone,
Unless I see him; and I have forgotten
What sleep is. Go now—make him look at you—
And I shall hear him if he stirs or whispers.
Go!—or I’ll scream and bring all Bethany
To come and make him speak. Make him say once
That he is glad, and God may say the rest.
Though He say I shall sleep, and sleep for ever,
I shall not care for that… Go!”
Mary, moving
Almost as if an angry child had pushed her,
Went forward a few steps; and having waited
As long as Martha’s eyes would look at hers,
Went forward a few more, and a few more;
And so, until she came to Lazarus,
Who crouched with his face hidden in his hands,
Like one that had no face. Before she spoke,
Feeling her sister’s eyes that were behind her
As if the door where Martha stood were now
As far from her as Egypt, Mary turned
Once more to see that she was there. Then, softly,
Fearing him not so much as wondering
What his first word might be, said, “Lazarus,
Forgive us if we seemed afraid of you;”
And having spoken, pitied her poor speech
That had so little seeming gladness in it,
So little comfort, and so little love.
There was no sign from him that he had heard,
Or that he knew that she was there, or cared
Whether she spoke to him again or died
There at his feet. “We love you, Lazarus,
And we are not afraid. The Master said
We need not be afraid. Will you not say
To me that you are glad? Look, Lazarus!
Look at my face, and see me. This is Mary.”
She found his hands and held them. They were cool,
Like hers, but they were not so calm as hers.
Through the white robes in which his friends had wrapped him
When he had groped out of that awful sleep,
She felt him trembling and she was afraid.
At last he sighed; and she prayed hungrily
To God that she might hear again the voice
Of Lazarus, whose hands were giving her now
The recognition of a living pressure
That was almost a language. When he spoke,
Only one word that she had waited for
Came from his lips, and that word was her name.
“I heard them saying, Mary, that he wept
Before I woke.” The words were low and shaken,
Yet Mary knew that he who uttered them
Was Lazarus; and that would be enough
Until there should be more… “Who made him come,
That he should weep for me?… Was it you, Mary?”
The questions held in his incredulous eyes
Were more than she would see. She looked away;
But she had felt them and should feel for ever,
She thought, their cold and lonely desperation
That had the bitterness of all cold things
That were not cruel. “I should have wept,” he said,
“If I had been the Master….”
Now she could feel
His hands above her hair—the same black hair
That once he made a jest of, praising it,
While Martha’s busy eyes had left their work
To flash with laughing envy. Nothing of that
Was to be theirs again; and such a thought
Was like the flying by of a quick bird
Seen through a shadowy doorway in the twilight.
For now she felt his hands upon her head,
Like weights of kindness: “I forgive you, Mary….
You did not know—Martha could not have known—
Only the Master knew…. Where is he now?
Yes, I remember. They came after him.
May the good God forgive him…. I forgive him.
I must; and I may know only from him
The burden of all this… Martha was here—
But I was not yet here. She was afraid….
Why did he do it, Mary? Was it—you?
Was it for you?… Where are the friends I saw?
Yes, I remember. They all went away.
I made them go away…. Where is he now?…
What do I see down there? Do I see Martha—
Down by the door?… I must have time for this.”
Lazarus looked about him fearfully,
And then again at Mary, who discovered
Awakening apprehension in his eyes,
And shivered at his feet. All she had feared
Was here; and only in the slow reproach
Of his forgiveness lived his gratitude.
Why had he asked if it was all for her
That he was here? And what had Martha meant?
Why had the Master waited? What was coming
To Lazarus, and to them, that had not come?
What had the Master seen before he came,
That he had come so late?
“Where is he, Mary?”
Lazarus asked again. “Where did he go?”
Once more he gazed about him, and once more
At Mary for an answer. “Have they found him?
Or did he go away because he wished
Never to look into my eyes again?…
That, I could understand…. Where is he, Mary?”
“I do not know,” she said. “Yet in my heart
I know that he is living, as you are living—
Living, and here. He is not far from us.
He will come back to us and find us all—
Lazarus, Martha, Mary—everything—
All as it was before. Martha said that.
And he said we were not to be afraid.”
Lazarus closed his eyes while on his face
A tortured adumbration of a smile
Flickered an instant. “All as it was before,”
He murmured wearily. “Martha said that;
And he said you were not to be afraid …
Not you… Not you… Why should you be afraid?
Give all your little fears, and Martha’s with them,
To me; and I will add them unto mine,
Like a few rain-drops to Gennesaret.”
“If you had frightened me in other ways,
Not willing it,” Mary said, “I should have known
You still for Lazarus. But who is this?
Tell me again that you are Lazarus;
And tell me if the Master gave to you
No sign of a new joy that shall be coming
To this house that he loved. Are you afraid?
Are you afraid, who have felt everything—
And seen…?”
But Lazarus only shook his head,
Staring with his bewildered shining eyes
Hard into Mary’s face. “I do not know,
Mary,” he said, after a long time.
“When I came back, I knew the Master’s eyes
Were looking into mine. I looked at his,
And there was more in them than I could see.
At first I could see nothing but his eyes;
Nothing else anywhere was to be seen—
Only his eyes. And they looked into mine—
Long into mine, Mary, as if he knew.”
Mary began to be afraid of words
As she had never been afraid before
Of loneliness or darkness, or of death,
But now she must have more of them or die:
“He cannot know that there is worse than death,”
She said. “And you…”
“Yes, there is worse than death.”
Said Lazarus; “and that was what he knew;
And that is what it was that I could see
This morning in his eyes. I was afraid,
But not as you are. There is worse than death,
Mary; and there is nothing that is good
For you in dying while you are still here.
Mary, never go back to that again.
You would not hear me if I told you more,
For I should say it only in a language
That you are not to learn by going back.
To be a child again is to go forward—
And that is much to know. Many grow old,
And fade, and go away, not knowing how much
That is to know. Mary, the night is coming,
And there will soon be darkness all around you.
Let us go down where Martha waits for us,
And let there be light shining in this house.”
He rose, but Mary would not let him go:
“Martha, when she came back from here, said only
That she heard nothing. And have you no more
For Mary now than you had then for Martha?
Is Nothing, Lazarus, all you have for me?
Was Nothing all you found where you have been?
If that be so, what is there worse than that—
Or better—if that be so? And why should you,
With even our love, go the same dark road over?”
“I could not answer that, if that were so,”
Said Lazarus,—“not even if I were God.
Why should He care whether I came or stayed,
If that were so? Why should the Master weep—
For me, or for the world,—or save himself
Longer for nothing? And if that were so,
Why should a few years’ more mortality
Make him a fugitive where flight were needless,
Had he but held his peace and given his nod
To an old Law that would be new as any?
I cannot say the answer to all that;
Though I may say that he is not afraid,
And that it is not for the joy there is
In serving an eternal Ignorance
Of our futility that he is here.
Is that what you and Martha mean by Nothing?
Is that what you are fearing? If that be so,
There are more weeds than lentils in your garden.
And one whose weeds are laughing at his harvest
May as well have no garden; for not there
Shall he be gleaning the few bits and orts
Of life that are to save him. For my part,
I am again with you, here among shadows
That will not always be so dark as this;
Though now I see there’s yet an evil in me
That made me let you be afraid of me.
No, I was not afraid—not even of life.
I thought I was…I must have time for this;
And all the time there is will not be long.
I cannot tell you what the Master saw
This morning in my eyes. I do not know.
I cannot yet say how far I have gone,
Or why it is that I am here again,
Or where the old road leads. I do not know.
I know that when I did come back, I saw
His eyes again among the trees and faces—
Only his eyes; and they looked into mine—
Long into mine—long, long, as if he knew.”
poem by Edwin Arlington Robinson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Standing In The Light
A summers day in sixty-eight
Sunlight through a window falls across the page
A young boy tries to concentrate
His mind would rather fly beyond the classroom cage
He can take the teachers voice
Turn it into music from another place
All the other kids dont have that choice
Hanging on to every word the teacher says
Day and night - we will be touched
Standing in the light - dont shadow the genius
So out of school he walks alone
Soon his thoughts are flowing like a golden stream
An empty house he calls his own
This place becomes a temple to a silent dream
Sometimes he will clap and sing
Then deep in meditation he will learn to be
And only birds upon the wing
With upward fascination claim to be so free
Day and night - we will be touched
Standing in the light - dont shadow the genius
Your smile, your freedom
Comes to you from within
Still a child with a reason
Youre afraid but its time to begin
Blow the wind of change
Though the words are strange - to hear
Say whats on your mind
Now is not the time - for fear
A summers day in eight-one
Sunlight through a window falls across the page
A young mans fight has just begun
And rising up inside him is a burning rage
They called his dream a fantasy
A song that every child has sung since time began
But just as long as he believes
Standing in the light hell make them understand
song performed by by Level 42
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Watcher on the Tower
I
The Voice of a Man
WHAT of the Night, O Watcher?
The Voice of a Woman
Yea, what of it?
The Watcher
A star has risen; and a wind blows strong.
Voice of the Man
The Night is dark.
The Watcher
But God is there above it.
Voice of the Woman
The Night is dark; the Night is dark and long.
II
Voice of the Man
What of the Night, O Watcher?
Voice of the Woman
Night of sorrow!
The Watcher
Out of the East there comes a sound, like song.
Voice of the Man
The Night is dark.
The Watcher
Have courage! There’s To-morrow!
Voice of the Woman
The Night is dark; the Night is dark and long.
III
Voice of the Man
What of the Night, O Watcher?
Voice of the Woman
Is it other?
The Watcher
I see a gleam; a thorn of light; a thong.
Voice of the Man
The Night is dark.
The Watcher
The Morning comes, my Brother.
Voice of the Woman
The Night is dark; the Night is dark and long.
IV
Voice of the Man
What now, what now, O Watcher?
The Watcher
Red as slaughter
The Darkness dies. The Light comes swift and strong.
Voice of the Man
The Night was long.—What sayest thou, my Daughter?
Voice of the Woman
The Night was dark; the Night was dark and long.
poem by Madison Julius Cawein
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Fathers House
Last night I dreamed that I was a child
Out where the pines grow wild and tall
I was trying to make it home through the forest
Before the darkness falls
I heard the wind rustling through the trees
And ghostly voices rose from the fields
I ran with my heart pounding down that broken path
With the devil snappin at my heels
I broke through the trees, and there in the night
My fathers house stood shining hard and bright
The branches and brambles tore my clothes and scratched my arms
But I ran till I fell, shaking in his arms
I awoke and I imagined the hard things that pulled us apart
Will never again, sir, tear us from each others hearts
I got dressed, and to that house I did ride
From out on the road, I could see its windows shining in light
I walked up the steps and stood on the porch
A woman I didnt recognize came and spoke to me through a chained door
I told her my story, and who Id come for
She said Im sorry, son, but no one by that name lives here anymore
My fathers house shines hard and bright
It stands like a beacon calling me in the night
Calling and calling, so cold and alone
Shining 'cross this dark highway where our sins lie unatoned
song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Friday`s dues.
I was in a dark place,
On a friday night.
Raining hard on the sky.
-Grey world!
Long way from carefree times.
I was in a dark place,
Looking for an answer.
Being run out of town
By white-siuted men.
Who couldn`t give a ken!
I was in a dark place, only
Just then.
You didn`t want to know.
Thought i had become indestructible
Like twenty-one again.
Oh! , time to go.
See you in another place.
With a different face!
Rain still coming down.
Running for my car.
Looking for a real saviour!
In a world of stars.
In days gone by
I would have laughed at this
Inconsequential lie.
Oh my! ,
How time changes the skyline.
poem by Peter Vealey
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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At the time...
A car pulled up, in front of a house, at four o'clock in the morning.
A man came out of the car, and stood in silence in the dark, dark dark.
Quiet as a mouse, a woman came out of the house, opened the gate and walked into a garbage bin, making a godawful clattering.
Drowsy neighbours, across the road, peeked out
from behind the nosy curtains of their boring bedroom.
But nothing happened, while the clouds moved on,
and the frail moonlight was well again.
Under a blanket of glittering stars, she handed him two suitcases
and he hurried 'round to open the boot but just then,
the toilet lights on the second floor came on.
The neighbours behind the curtains froze like statues.
Swiftly, the man and the woman crouched down behind the car.
In the quiet of the night, they could all hear the urine
gurgling long, loud and plenty into the toilet bowl.
Behind the car, the man and the woman started
groping and kissing and groping and kissing furiously.
The neighbours saw them do it by the light of the moon and stars.
When the toilet flushed, they quietly shut the boot,
tiptoed to the front, got into the car,
and the roar of the car engine died away.
The neighbours closed the curtains. Didn't say much.
Ate sandwiches and milk. Still couldn't sleep.
Started to make love loudly, as if to drown out forever
the drunken snoring beginning again
across the road.
Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time.
(1989)
poem by Simmon Tan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Fathers House
(bruce springsteen)
Last night I dreamed that I was a child
Out where the pines grow wild and tall
I was trying to make it home through the forest
Before the darkness falls
I heard the wind rustling through the trees
And ghostly voices rose from the fields
I ran with my heart pounding down that broken path
With the devil snappin at my heels
I broke through the trees, and there in the night
My fathers house stood shining hard and bright
The branches and brambles tore my clothes and scratched my arms
But I ran till I fell, shaking in his arms
I awoke and I imagined the hard things that pulled us apart
Will never again, sir, tear us from each others hearts
I got dressed, and to that house I did ride
From out on the road, I could see its windows shining in light
I walked up the steps and stood on the porch
A woman I didnt recognize came and spoke to me through a chained door
I told her my story, and who Id come for
She said Im sorry, son, but no one by that name lives here anymore
My fathers house shines hard and bright
It stands like a beacon calling me in the night
Calling and calling, so cold and alone
Shining cross this dark highway where our sins lie unatoned
song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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