Battery Moving Up to a New Position from Rest Camp:Dawn
Not a sign of life we rouse
In any square close-shuttered house
That flanks the road we amble down
Toward far trenches through the town.
The dark, snow-slushy, empty street....
Tingle of frost in brow and feet....
Horse-breath goes dimly up like smoke.
No sound but the smacking stroke
As a sergeant flings each arm
Out and across to keep him warm,
And the sudden splashing crack
Of ice-pools broken by our track.
More dark houses, yet no sign
Of life....And axle's creak and whine....
The splash of hooves, the strain of trace....
Clatter: we cross the market place.
Deep quiet again, and on we lurch
Under the shadow of a church:
Its tower ascends, fog-wreathed and grim;
Within its aisles a light burns dim....
When, marvellous! from overhead,
Like abrupt speech of one deemed dead,
Speech-moved by some Superior Will,
A bell tolls thrice and then is still.
And suddenly I know that now
The priest within, with shining brow,
Lifts high the small round of the Host.
The server's tingling bell is lost
In clash of the greater overhead.
Peace like a wave descends, is spread,
While watch the peasants' reverent eyes....
The bell's boom trembles, hangs, and dies.
O people who bow down to see
The Miracle of Cavalry,
The bitter and the glorious,
Bow down, bow down and pray for us.
Once more our anguished way we take
Towards our Golgotha, to make
For all our lovers sacrifice.
Again the troubled bell tolls thrice.
And slowly, slowly, lifted up
Dazzles the overflowing cup.
O worshipping, fond multitude,
Remember us too, and our blood.
Turn hearts to us as we go by,
Salute those about to die,
Plead for them, the deep bell toll:
Their sacrifice must soon be whole.
Entreat you for such hearts as break
With the premonitory ache
Of bodies, whose feet, hands, and side,
Must soon be torn, pierced, crucified.
Sue for them and all of us
Who the world over suffer thus,
Who have scarce time for prayer indeed,
Who only march and die and bleed.
The town is left, the road leads on,
Bluely glaring in the sun,
Toward where in the sunrise gate
Death, honour, and fierce battle wait.
poem by Robert Nichols
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Related quotes
Everybody is Getting Out of Town
Population getting out of town,
Population wearing running shoes,
Population wondering which road to choose,
Everybody's getting out of town.
They all want to leave; they would if they could,
But right now the road ain't no good,
If you ain't crying, you might as well laugh,
While you're trying to get out of town.
Power plant, glowing in the dark,
Nobody sure what set off the spark,
They say the island is sinking fast,
Everybody's getting out of town.
Population looking for a sign,
Whose fault is it, living on the fault line,
Better do better if there IS a next time,
But for now, just get out of town.
Population looking for something to eat,
Population looking for what was the street,
If you leaving, all you got is your feet,
Good luck getting out of town.
poem by Richard Jarboe
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A House called Lonely (A Trilogy in three parts)
There is a street in every town that owns a house
called lonely. Then when your just passing by you might
just say, 'if only.
If only could mean a life time of thoughts but it does'nt cure
a lonely house and all its faults.
Boarded up windows and tiles gone from the roof, graffiti
painted by a rebelious youth.
Such a lonely house and an oh such a tired one,
one that has lost all it's fun.
Stairs and rafters all gone to pot all that is left
is wood worm and dry rot.
No children playing in the garden, it's just a house condemend
by the council without no pardon. Poor lonely house someones
forgotton dream, now describing lifes social scene.
This lonely house stands in the way because their building
a By Pass or a new motorway.
The house called lonely could be any where, in the town, the
country or city square.
Even in your street there's a house called lonely just waiting
for you to say 'if only'
poem by Sylvia Spencer
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1104 Wintertime Blues
This Poem is dedicated to everyone
who thinks their Town or Village
closes down in Winter!
What has become of my poor Town
Now that the Winter's really is here?
The Cafe tables have been stowed
And all the cars are our of gear!
All the houses have been shuttered
They seem empty - quiet - still
All the gardens are uncluttered
There's no flowers on the sill!
There's less sign of bussling life
On the Town Centre Arcade
Where I'd sit and watch my wife
Haggle with the passing trade!
The Corner Cafe is very quiet
The freezing swimming pool is closed
No chance of Winter Regatta
Now the Harbour has all froze!
The old freindly French knife sharpner
Now no longer passes through
And Chop Low - the Chinese gardener
Has gone down with Asian Flu!
All the Station's clocks have stopped
And also has the daily train
Because so icy is the line
And deep snow's replaced the rain!
The local bar is changing hands
And the bookshop has closed down
The local park becomes a morgue
Since cold Winter came to Town!
Some folk really welcome Winter
The Town is now a quiter place
You can walk from dawn to sunset
Never see another face!
But it happens every year
Soon the Winter - it will go
Please cheer up don't shed a tear
Goes the Winter - Goes the snow!
And then soon will come the Spring
And the blossom all will grow
And the fledglings preen and sing
In the Sunny Springtime glow!
poem by John Knight
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Bright Side Of The Road
From the dark end of the street
To the bright side of the road
Well be lovers once again on the
Bright side of the road
Little darlin, come with me
Wont you help me share my load
From the dark end of the street
To the bright side of the road
Into this life were born
Baby sometimes we dont know why
And time seems to go by so fast
In the twinkling of an eye
Lets enjoy it while we can
Wont you help me sing my song
From the dark end of the street
To the bright side of the road
From the dark end of the street
To the bright side of the road
Well be lovers once again
On the bright side of the road
Well be lovers once again on the bright side of the road
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The House Beside The Road
The house beside the road,
Where people lived
And children played,
Is empty now
And falling down.
The echos of happy feet
Are heard now,
Tapping to the sound
Of Poppy's fiddle,
But the house beside the road
Is empty.
When a gentle voice
Is heard in the house,
It's only a singing breeze
Sifting itself through
The cracks in the roof of
The house beside the road.
poem by Scarlett Treat
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The Sequel to a Reminiscence
Not in the street and not in the square,
The street and square where you went and came;
With shuttered casement your house stands bare,
Men hush their voice when they speak your name.
I, too, can play at the vain pretence,
Can feign you dead; while a voice sounds clear
In the inmost depths of my heart: Go hence,
Go, find your friend who is far from here.
Not here, but somewhere where I can reach!
Can a man with motion, hearing and sight,
And a thought that answered my thought and speech,
Be utterly lost and vanished quite?
Whose hand was warm in my hand last week? . .
My heart beat fast as I neared the gate--
Was it this I had come to seek,
"A stone that stared with your name and date;"
A hideous, turfless, fresh-made mound;
A silence more cold than the wind that blew?
What had I lost, and what had I found?
My flowers that mocked me fell to the ground--
Then, and then only, my spirit knew.
This House Is Empty Now
(costello/bacharach)
These rooms play tricks upon you
Remember when they were always filled with laughter
But now theyre quite deserted
They seem to just echo voices raised in anger
Maybe you will see my face
Reflected there on the pane
In the window up above for long
In broken home
Yet this house is empty now
Theres nothing I can do
To make you want to stay
So tell me how am I supposed to live without you
These walls were lined with pictures
Remember the glass we charged in celebration
But now I fill my life up
With all that I can to deaden this sensation
Do you recognize the face
Fixed in that fine silver frame
Were you really so unhappy there
You never said
So this house is empty now
Theres nothing I can do to make you want to stay
So tell me how am I supposed to live without you
Oh, if I could just become forgetful
When night seems endless
Does the extinguished candle care
About the darkness
Its funny how the memory
Will bring you so close then make you disappear
Meanwhile all our friends must choose
Who they will favour, who they will lose
Hang the garland high, or close the door
Or throw away the key
This house is empty now
Theres no one living here
You have to care about
This house is empty now
Theres nothing I can do
To make you want to stay
So tell me how am I supposed to live without you
This house is empty now
This house is empty now
Theres nothing I can do
This house is empty now
This house is empty now
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Heart Beating In Time
Each day without fail
the road would visit the house
(it was the only house the road knew)
and the house too
would look forward to
the road’s visit.
Over the years they became
good friends.
Then one day the house died
from lack of people
and was torn down
until it was only
memory and rubble.
The road continued to visit it
but could only stare into empty space
at the place where the house
had been.
The road was lonely.
At night it talked to
the landscape and the stars
but life was never the same
again.
One day the road just up and died
from lack of use.
Now only the dream
of a memory exists
and the landscape and stars
talk to themselves
and try to remember
what it is...they have
forgot.
poem by Dónall Dempsey
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Streets of Life
Walking down a crowded street
Friends can suddenly appear
Bustling on their happy feet
Telling you that they're so near
Walking down an empty street
Makes you wonder if you're lost
For there is no one to greet
You're like walking in a frost
Walking down the streets of life
On which roadway will you be?
That of glory or of strife?
Or on path where you'd be free?
Walking down the august hall
By the road you know not where
Is there pride as you recall?
How the heck did you get there?
.
poem by Reyvrex Questor Reyes
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449
I empty myself of the smell of others. I empty my bags.
I empty my glasses and leave them beside the sink
At night I turn back the alarm;
I open the ref and look at myself as a hungry man
It does me no good. The nights have done their task.
I say your name. I say hello.
The verbs do not follow each other up road
I love my wife. I keep her in the house.
My parents still hide in their graves
into the foggy corners of the hills. How can I be silent?
History reminds me who I am. I am unchanged, i am still
the same man in town.
I get rid of my life
and everything remains the same.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Listen Snow Is Falling
Listen, the snow is falling oer town,
Listen the snow is falling evrywhere.
Between empire state building
And between trafalgar square.
Listen, the snow is falling oer town.
Listen, the snow is falling oer town,
Listen the snow is falling evrywhere.
Between your bed and mine,
Between your head and my mind.
Listen, the snow is falling oer town.
Between tokyo and paris,
Between london and dallas,
Between your love and mine.
Listen, the snow is falling evrywhere.
Snowfling, snowfall, snowfall,
Listen, listen,
Listen, baby,
Listen.
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Listen, The Snow Is Falling
Listen, the snow is falling o'er town,
Listen the snow is falling ev'rywhere.
Between empire state building
And between trafalgar square.
Listen, the snow is falling o'er town.
Listen, the snow is falling o'er town,
Listen the snow is falling ev'rywhere.
Between your bed and mine,
Between your head and my mind.
Listen, the snow is falling o'er town.
Between tokyo and paris,
Between london and dallas,
Between your love and mine.
Listen, the snow is falling ev'rywhere.
Snowfling, snowfall, snowfall,
Listen, listen,
Listen, baby,
Listen.
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shakedown Street
You tell me this town aint got no heart. well, well, well, you can never tell.
The sunny side of the street is dark. well, well, well, you can never tell.
Maybe thats cause its midnight, in the dark of the moon besides.
Maybe the dark is from your eyes, maybe the dark is from your eyes,
Maybe the dark is from your eyes, maybe the dark is from your eyes,
Maybe the dark is from your eyes, maybe the dark is from your eyes,
You know you got such dark eyes!
Nothin shakin on shakedown street. used to be the heart of town.
Dont tell me this town aint got no heart. you just gotta poke around.
You think youve seen this town clear through.
Well, well, well, you can never tell.
Nothin here that could intrest you. well, well, well, you can never tell.
Its not because you missed out on the thing that we had to start.
Maybe you had too much too fast. maybe you had too much too fast.
Maybe you had too much too fast. maybe you had too much too fast.
Maybe you had too much too fast. maybe you had too much too fast.
Or just over played your part.
Nothin shakin on shakedown street. used to be the heart of town.
Dont tell me this town aint got no heart. you just gotta poke around.
Since Im passing your way today. well, well, well, you can never tell.
I just stopped in cause I want to say, well, well, well, you can never tell.
I recall your darkness when it crackled like a thundercloud.
Dont tell me this town aint got no heart.
Dont tell me this town aint got no heart.
Dont tell me this town aint got no heart.
Dont tell me this town aint got no heart.
Dont tell me this town aint got no heart.
Dont tell me this town aint got no heart.
When I can hear it beat out loud!
Nothin shakin on shakedown street. used to be the heart of town.
Dont tell me this town aint got no heart. you just gotta poke around.
song performed by by Grateful Dead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Such beautiful eyes
Such beautiful eyes
I tell myself not to look
When you walk on by
But i take a peek
Just to remind myself why
Every time you turn the corner
Ill be there watching
Looking into those beautiful eyes
Every time you leave the house
Ill be on the other side of the street
Im your shadow
Even when its dark
Your all alone now
Walking down an empty road
Such beautiful eyes
Even when death is in sight
Such beautiful eyes
Even when life is no longer inside
Now i walk down
A busy street
Looking for another pair
Of beautiful eyes.
poem by Bill Steward
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Song Of The Evergreens
Listen to the briskly whistling winter evergreen
Whispering through the frozen morning light
And tell me whats to come
Saying my time is near
Never fear
I close each year
Im winter
Reminding me to trade my t-shirts for my woven wools
Trade my sandals for my skis
Whispered warnings in the wind
Saying soon come the dancing snowflakes
Theyre kissing every tree
Theyre kissing you and me
Please hurry
Falling
Dazzling dancing diamonds from the sky
Prisms
Rainbow sparkled flurries in our eyes
Whipping across the frozen crystal meadow
Pond of ice
Race the snow
Well build a warming fire there
And cuddle close and wine and dine
The setting sun
The morning light will find us high
Shooting down the glistening mountain side
Screaming through the whispering pines
The freedom of each day
Will cleanse our minds
I can hardly wait for winter
I can hardly wait for the snow
I can hardly hardly wait for winter
I can hardly wait for the snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
song performed by by Chicago
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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This House Is Empty Now (feat. Burt Bacharach)
These rooms play tricks upon you
Remember when they were always filled with laughter?
But now they're quite deserted
They seem to just echo voices raised in anger
Maybe you will see my face
Reflected there on the pane
In the window of our poor
Forlorn and broken home
Still this house is empty now
There's nothing I can do
To make you want to stay
So tell me how
Am I supposed to live without you?
These walls were lined with pictures
Remember the glass we charged in celebration?
But now I fill my life up
With all that I can to deaden this sensation
Do you recognize the face
Fixed in that fine silver frame
Were you really so unhappy then?
You never said
So this house is empty now
There's nothing I can do
To make you want to stay
So tell me how
Am I supposed to live without you?
Oh, if I could just become forgetful
When night seems endless
Does the extinguished candle care
About the darkness?
It's funny how my memry
Will bring you so close then make you disappear
Meanwhile all our friends must choose
Who they will favour, who they will lose
Hang the garland high or close the door
And throw away the key
This house is empty now
There's no one living here
You have to care about
This house is empty now
There's nothing I can do
To make you want to stay
So tell me how
Am I supposed to live without you?
This house is empty now
There's no one living here
You have to care about
This house is empty now
There's nothing I can do
To make you want to stay
So tell me how
Am I supposed to live without you
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To The Road
Cool is the wind, for the summer is waning,
Who 's for the road?
Sun-flecked and soft, where the dead leaves are raining,
Who 's for the road?
Knapsack and alpenstock press hand and shoulder,
Prick of the brier and roll of the boulder;
This be your lot till the season grow older;
Who 's for the road?
Up and away in the hush of the morning,
Who 's for the road?
Vagabond he, all conventions a-scorning,
Who 's for the road?
Music of warblers so merrily singing,
Draughts from the rill from the roadside up-springing,
Nectar of grapes from the vines lowly swinging,
These on the road.
Now every house is a hut or a hovel,
Come to the road:
Mankind and moles in the dark love to grovel,
But to the road.
Throw off the loads that are bending you double;
Love is for life, only labor is trouble;
Truce to the town, whose best gift is a bubble:
Come to the road!
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Crazy Mary
she lived on a curve in the road, in an old tar-paper shack
On the south side of the town, on the wrong side of the tracks
Sometimes on the way into town we'd say:
"mama, can we stop and give her a ride?"
Sometimes we did but her hands flew from her side
Wild eyed, crazy mary
Down along the road, past the parson's place
The old blue car we used to race
Little country store with a sign tacked to the side
Said "no l-o-i-t-e-r-i-n-g allowed"
Underneath that sign always congregated quite a crowd
Take a bottle, drink it down, pass it around
Take a bottle, drink it down, pass it around
Take a bottle, drink it down, pass it around
One night thunder cracked mercy backed outside her windowsill
Dreamed i was flying high above the trees, over the hills
Looked down into the house of mary
Bare bulb on, newspaper-covered walls, and mary rising up above it all
Next morning on the way into town
Saw some skid marks, and followed them around
Over the curve,through the fields, into the house of mary
That what you fear the most, could meet you halfway
That what you fear the most, could meet you halfway
Take a bottle, drink it down, pass it around
Take a bottle, drink it down, pass it around
Take a bottle, drink it down, pass it around
song performed by by Pearl Jam
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Educated Stranger
The Educated Stranger
His dark eyes no longer smile, always well dressed,
he walks rapidly through town; speaks to people
but only briefly, and mostly about the weather.
Often he disappears for weeks, drives from town
to town it is as he is looking for something that he
will only know what is when he finds it.
His family, travelling folks, a close knit society he
accidently broke out of when he was persuaded
to seek higher education, he became different.
Travelers journey and he saw his people disappear
In a haze of road dust. A natural business flair,
he made money so he could retire early, and live in
a big house. His eyes scan the horizon, looking for
the irretrievable.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Its Dark
Its dark in this town,
Its dark in my house,
Its dark in my soul,
Its dark in my mind,
Its dark everywhere,
Its dark in my life.
poem by Bryer Rose
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