The Need of Being Versed in Country Things
The house had gone to bring again
To the midnight sky a sunset glow.
Now the chimney was all of the house that stood,
Like a pistil after the petals go.
The barn opposed across the way,
That would have joined the house in flame
Had it been the will of the wind, was left
To bear forsaken the place's name.
No more it opened with all one end
For teams that came by the stony road
To drum on the floor with scurrying hoofs
And brush the mow with the summer load.
The birds that came to it through the air
At broken windows flew out and in,
Their murmur more like the sigh we sigh
From too much dwelling on what has been.
Yet for them the lilac renewed its leaf,
And the aged elm, though touched with fire;
And the dry pump flung up an awkward arm;
And the fence post carried a strand of wire.
For them there was really nothing sad.
But though they rejoiced in the nest they kept,
One had to be versed in country things
Not to believe the phoebes wept.
poem by Robert Frost
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Related quotes
Comparisons (revised)
you have not seen how
they repaired the broken things
within their fences
you have seen me
how i mend our broken fence
and you say
we are worse than they
you always see the greener fence
beyond ours
i will not disagree with you
but you must understand that
this is all about them and us
and please bear with me
there are no points of comparisons
you have never lived in their house
we are a family and we must
accept with humility what broken things
we have in our house what small love
is left what waste we can still keep.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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House Of Jazz
Humdinger
Bell ringer
Got a nasty stinger
To slow you down
Mud slinger
Gold digger
Who point the finger
And do you down
Kickin' and a fightin' on a TV show
Lightin' blindin' in the middle of the road
Are you comin' in
Are you comin' in
I said come into the house of
Come into the house of
Come into the house of jazz
Come into the house of
Come into the house of
Come into the house of jazz
Ball stripper
Big tipper
Got a slap 'n' tickler
To make you growl
Spitin' and bitin' on a TV show
Tightenin' frightenin' givin' out a load
Are you comin' in
Are you comin' in
I said come into the house of
Come into the house of
Come into the house of jazz
Come into the house of
Come into the house of
Come into the house of jazz
Are you comin' in
Come on in
Are you comin' in
Are you comin' in
I said come into the house of
Come into the house of
Come into the house of jazz
Come into the house of
Come into the house of
Come into the house of jazz
Are you comin' in
Are you comin' in
I said into the house of jazz
Come into the house of
Come into the house of
Come into the house of jazz
The house of jazz
song performed by by AC/DC from Stiff Upper Lip
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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House Of Jazz
(young - young)
Humdinger
Bell ringer
Got a nasty stinger
To slow you down
Mud slinger
Gold digger
Who point the finger
And do you down
Kickin and a fightin on a tv show
Lightin blindin in the middle of the road
Are you comin in
Are you comin in
I said come into the house of
Come into the house of
Come into the house of jazz
Come into the house of
Come into the house of
Come into the house of jazz, yes
Ball stripper
Big tipper
Got a slap n tickler
To make you growl
A spitin and bitin on a tv show
Tightenin frightenin givin out a load
Are you comin in
Are you comin in
I said come into the house of
Come into the house of
Come into the house of jazz
Come into the house of
Come into the house of
Come into the house of jazz
Are you comin in
Come on in
Are you comin in
Are you comin in
I said come into the house of
Come into the house of
Come into the house of jazz
Come into the house of
Come into the house of
Come into the house of jazz
Are you comin in
Are you comin in
I said into the house of jazz
Come into the house of
Come into the house of
Come into the house of jazz
The house of jazz
2000, j. albert & son, pty.
song performed by by AC-DC
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Monument Of All Our Wrongs
i build a house
no one likes it.
the house is empty
i put some chairs.
someone comes and
says, this house is
lonely, it needs
a sound
it is boring and needs
a paint
i put a tree beside
its stairs
i grow another
fence
i put a lone bulb
on a post
and leave the house
for good
that is what the
house is made
there is always
missing
something is
always wrong
this is the house
of regret
it is the monument
of all our wrongs.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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In This House
in this house
where you've been
what you've seen
were the windows
in this house
where you've been
what you've seen
were the doors
in this house
where you've sat
what you ate
was your food
in this house
where you've sat
what you ate
was the word
in this house
where you stood
what you could
something say
in this house
you could open
windows doors clapping wings
in this house
you could open
soul that heaven upward sings
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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This House Is On Fire (live 1983)
(A. Young M. Young B. Johnson)
Yonder she walks
Yonder she walks
Hitting 103
A little tongue in cheek
Hot personality
She bring on the flames
And it's burning it's burning
My body's achin' tossin' and turnin'
This house is on fire
This house is on fire
This house is on fire
And the flame is gonna burn in
You
She got me runnin' for shelter
Needing quarantine
She got me red hot and wired
Call on emergency
She bring on the flames
And it's burning it's burning
My body's achin' tossin' and turnin'
This house is on fire
This house is on fire
This house is on fire
And the flame is gonna burn in
You
You got me burnin' and burnin'
You got me tossin' and turnin'
This house is on fire
House is on fire
This house is on fire
House is on fire
This house is on fire
This house is on fire
House is on fire
And the flame is gonna burn in
I'll bet it's gonna burn
I'm gonna burn
You
song performed by by AC-DC
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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This House Is On Fire (live 1983)
(A. Young M. Young B. Johnson)
Yonder she walks
Yonder she walks
Hitting 103
A little tongue in cheek
Hot personality
She bring on the flames
And it's burning it's burning
My body's achin' tossin' and turnin'
This house is on fire
This house is on fire
This house is on fire
And the flame is gonna burn in
You
She got me runnin' for shelter
Needing quarantine
She got me red hot and wired
Call on emergency
She bring on the flames
And it's burning it's burning
My body's achin' tossin' and turnin'
This house is on fire
This house is on fire
This house is on fire
And the flame is gonna burn in
You
You got me burnin' and burnin'
You got me tossin' and turnin'
This house is on fire
House is on fire
This house is on fire
House is on fire
This house is on fire
This house is on fire
House is on fire
And the flame is gonna burn in
I'll bet it's gonna burn
I'm gonna burn
You
song performed by by AC-DC
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Houses
1898 -- A Song of the Dominions
'Twixt my house and thy house the pathway is broad,
In thy house or my house is half the world's hoard;
By my house and thy house hangs all the world's fate,
On thy house and my house lies half the world's hate.
For my house and thy house no help shall we find
Save thy house and my house -- kin cleaving to kind;
If my house be taken, thine tumbleth anon.
If thy house be forfeit, mine followeth soon.
'Twixt my house and thy house what talk can there be
Of headship or lordship, or service or fee?
Since my house to thy house no greater can send
Than thy house to my house -- friend comforting friend;
And thy house to my house no meaner can bring
Than my house to thy house -- King counselling King.
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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House for Sale
I stood in the midst of the empty house,
It was silent, empty, and bare,
gone was the laughter the tears and the life,
and the family that once lived there.
I stood there observing, to try to revive
the memories this house had to share,
the secrets, excitement, unhappiness too,
these feelings so willing to bear.
I heard children playing and lapping up life,
I heard adults talking and scolding,
This house bore it all with its solid repose,
and accepted with wisdom beholding.
I stood in the midst of the empty house,
with a feeling of sadness around,
abandoned and empty, a lonely shell,
for the place never uttered a sound,
it was silent and bare, where the rooms had been stripped
and the furniture taken away,
the paint had been scratched and the floor left unwashed
when the house was abandoned that day.
The ghosts from its past walk through each lonely room,
and I sigh as I button my coat,
I slam the front door with an echoing bang
and a lump seems to lodge in my throat-
for there on the green lawn for all eyes to see
with dark letters outstanding on pale
is a board standing taut in the cold winter sun
with the large, lonely wording- "For Sale"
poem by Margaret Hanning
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The House with Nobody in It
Whenever I walk to Suffern along the Erie track
I go by a poor old farmhouse with its shingles broken and black.
I suppose I've passed it a hundred times, but I always stop for a minute
And look at the house, the tragic house, the house with nobody in it.
I never have seen a haunted house, but I hear there are such things;
That they hold the talk of spirits, their mirth and sorrowings.
I know this house isn't haunted, and I wish it were, I do;
For it wouldn't be so lonely if it had a ghost or two.
This house on the road to Suffern needs a dozen panes of glass,
And somebody ought to weed the walk and take a scythe to the grass.
It needs new paint and shingles, and the vines should be trimmed and tied;
But what it needs the most of all is some people living inside.
If I had a lot of money and all my debts were paid
I'd put a gang of men to work with brush and saw and spade.
I'd buy that place and fix it up the way it used to be
And I'd find some people who wanted a home and give it to them free.
Now, a new house standing empty, with staring window and door,
Looks idle, perhaps, and foolish, like a hat on its block in the store.
But there's nothing mournful about it; it cannot be sad and lone
For the lack of something within it that it has never known.
But a house that has done what a house should do,
a house that has sheltered life,
That has put its loving wooden arms around a man and his wife,
A house that has echoed a baby's laugh and held up his stumbling feet,
Is the saddest sight, when it's left alone, that ever your eyes could meet.
So whenever I go to Suffern along the Erie track
I never go by the empty house without stopping and looking back,
Yet it hurts me to look at the crumbling roof and the shutters fallen apart,
For I can't help thinking the poor old house is a house with a broken heart.
poem by Joyce Kilmer
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Country Sunset
There is nothing more beautiful
Than a country sunset
The colors in the open sky
Are as lovely as they can get
Across the fields of grasses
You see the silhouette
Of a fence post or a windmill
As the sun that night has set
Even the barbwire linked across
The fence posts add a charm
For after all it is country
As pure as an old-fashioned barn
Orange, red, yellow and purple
Doesn’t seem possible at all
That these colors dominate
The sky from winter through fall
When we see a country sunset
At the end of a hard-working day
It shows us all things are possible
We wouldn’t want it any other way!
poem by Marilyn Lott
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A House Without Stairs
do not say
that without the stairs
the house is not a house anymore
without the ceiling
the more the house becomes to me
take the roof
if you want
or the beams
or even the floor and window frames
my house will still be a house
the sky its roof
the stretching grassy plain its floor
all the stars become
my magnificent ceiling
whatever is taken
we must imagine that all things are still there
lest we only have a house
that crashes on the floor
with all of us
dead
crushed to the death of
our imaginations
a door without an exit
because you have not seen hope coming
the lock and key
are all in the mind and heart
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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House Without Windows
Pockris/tobias
Im gonna move into
A house without windows
So I wont see you walking by, walking by
With your new love
There in the darkness of
My house without windows
I will never see the stars that shine
Shine on you, and your new love
Id rather wonder through this endless night
Than to face the light of another lonely day
Knowing that you wont be there
There to share, these two arms ever again
Ill take all my broken dreams
And Ill take my broken heart
And from now on you will find me there
Crying there, trying to forget
In my house without windows
In my house without windows
And without love.
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Silas Dement
It was moon-light, and the earth sparkled
With new-fallen frost.
It was midnight and not a soul abroad.
Out of the chimney of the court-house
A gray-hound of smoke leapt and chased
The northwest wind.
I carried a ladder to the landing of the stairs
And leaned it against the frame of the trap-door
In the ceiling of the portico,
And I crawled under the roof and amid the rafters
And flung among the seasoned timbers
A lighted handful of oil-soaked waste.
Then I came down and slunk away.
In a little while the fire-bell rang --
Clang! Clang! Clang!
And the Spoon River ladder company
Came with a dozen buckets and began to pour water
On the glorious bon-fire, growing hotter,
Higher and brighter, till the walls fell in,
And the limestone columns where Lincoln stood
Crashed like trees when the woodman fells them...
When I came back from Joliet
There was a new court house with a dome.
For I was punished like all who destroy
The past for the sake of the future.
poem by Edgar Lee Masters
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The Old House in the Glen
Winter has come and the wind and the rain
Wash over the house in the glen.
It cradles itself as if it were cold
For no one still lives within.
The years have passed over it, leaving it aged
And empty, and lost, without heart,
With no one to live there, no one to care
And the leaves are piled up on the hearth.
If you stand in the doorway, you can feel
Soft music that hangs in the air,
Like the soul of the house that ever lives on
Though there’s no longer any to hear.
The door is now gone, the windows un-paned,
The wood on the roof has gone slack.
But it still lingers on, as if waiting for
The people it loved to come back.
The old house listens, and waits, and sings
As the wind blows in through the door
And the beat of the heart of the house still sounds
Like the tread of their feet on the floor.
poem by Kate Wiley
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Hell In House
It's Friday morning
i wake up from my death
i star scream
because i saw blood in the floor
i put my t-shirt and my shoes
and i got from house i got away from
I want to get away from this
to get away from my hell the hell of house
is the most dangerous place
i start to scream
i get away from this hole
i get away from house (house)
i run away from this street
this town
i start to get away from this life and rest in peace
i wish i have and one more chance
I want to get away from this
to get away from my hell the hell of house
is the most dangerous place
and now i wish
i want a really want
to trade this life from an another (another, another)
another place another year another country
please i don't want this!
I want to get away from this
to get away from my hell the hell of house
is the most dangerous place
poem by Sp9ke Draco
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A House for Four
A house for four
What is it? a house for four
A dingy looking thing
Are there windows? none
What is it? a house for four
Such a palace
Are there greetings? none
What is it? a house for four
Why the space is so small
Is there privacy? none
What is it? a house for four
A dozen creeps could be creeping there
Is there any trust? none
Don't judge me for mine
Poor fool i wont
Even give you the time
Are you judging me?
Your quite the choir
With a cracking voice
And
A tall house that falls
To scrutiny
A house for four and
A house for four
A people of choir and
A people of poor
Do you not recognize
The stains are yours?
A house is not a house
Unless there is more
More and more
Sometimes less is more
poem by Deci Hernandez
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Burning Down The Hosue
Watch out you might get what you're after
Cool babies strange but not a stranger
I'm an ordinary guy
Burning down the house
Hold tight wait till the party's over
Hold tight We're in for nasty weather
There has got to be a way
Burning down the house
Here's your ticket pack your bag: time for jumpin' overboard
The transportation is here
Close enough but not too far, maybe you know where you are
Fightin' fire with fire
All wet hey you might need a raincoat
Shape down Dreams walking in broad daylight
Three hun-dred six-ty five de-grees
Burning down the house
It was once upon a place sometimes I listen to myself
Gonna come in first place
People on their way to work baby what did you except
Gonna burst into flame
My house S'out of the ordinary
That's right Don't want to hurt nobody
Some things sure can sweep me off my feet
Burning down the house
No visible means of support and you have not seen nothing yet
Everything's stuck together
I don't know what you expect staring into your TV set
Fighting fire with fire
song performed by by Talking Heads
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Within A Sigh
The golden threads at sunrise
and the crimson glow at sunset
bring joy to everyone’s eyes.
The insects that scurry around
and the birds that fly high in the sky
take the breath away within a sigh.
We live in a world of wonders
that sadly passes us by.
Miracles happen every moment,
but we pass them with blind eyes.
We are too busy to ever see the things
that take the breath away within a sigh.
One day we may stop
and finally wake up
when all the miracles are gone
and will never have that chance
to change things back to when
they used to take the breath away within a sigh.
2-3 August 2010
poem by David Harris
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Shattered windows, Colors of white
Across the street is a new house with a room painted red, with no holes of white.
Next to me, a house purple, with its color pealing off, with holes of black and white
At the end of the street, an old house once yellow, what now remains white.
The sound of a hammer building a house, entering a place with a color unknown.
On the street,
Windows covered with ice
Some shine with light.
Some broken
Some fixed
Some lost, out of sight.
A house, two blocks from here.
Shines with lights of yellow, red, and green everywhere.
A wall keeping the wind from blowing anywhere.
The house next door, at the dawn of the day.
Paints its room black, and peals the color away.
The wall crumbles.
The wind blows across the colors of yellow, red and green
Breaks all the windows.
Turns the yellow to blue, red to black, and green to white.
The house two blocks away.
Adds a line of yellow red and green everyday.
To allow the house of blue, black and white to shine for us some day.
poem by Linda ErikssonBique
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