The Eye
The Atlantic is a stormy moat; and the Mediterranean,
The blue pool in the old garden,
More than five thousand years has drunk sacrifice
Of ships and blood, and shines in the sun; but here the Pacific--
Our ships, planes, wars are perfectly irrelevant.
Neither our present blood-feud with the brave dwarfs
Nor any future world-quarrel of westering
And eastering man, the bloody migrations, greed of power, clash of
faiths--
Is a speck of dust on the great scale-pan.
Here from this mountain shore, headland beyond stormy headland
plunging like dolphins through the blue sea-smoke
Into pale sea--look west at the hill of water: it is half the
planet:
this dome, this half-globe, this bulging
Eyeball of water, arched over to Asia,
Australia and white Antartica: those are the eyelids that never
close;
this is the staring unsleeping
Eye of the earth; and what it watches is not our wars.
poem by Robinson Jeffers
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Related quotes
Stormy Waters
(white)
Stormy waters, I cant find the harbour
Stormy water keeps me away
Stormy waters, I cant try any harder
And all I ask is to know
Im near the bay
I did it again, I let another year roll away
So I pretend that Ive got a reason to say
Im closer to having you
I never should have strayed
I wish it could
Be easier
For me to end someday
Stormy waters, I cant find the harbour
Stormy water keeps me away
Stormy waters, I cant try any harder
And all I ask is to know
Im near the bay
Whatever I did tell me would I do
The same again
If I could relive would it be the same in the end
cause everyday
Has a funny way
Of ending up so blue
I wish it could
Be easier
To get back with you
Stormy waters, I cant find the harbour
Stormy water keeps me away
Stormy waters, I cant try any harder
And all I ask is to know
Im near the bay
Stormy waters, I cant find the harbour
Stormy water keeps me away
Stormy waters, I cant try any harder
And all I ask is to know
Im near the bay
song performed by by Hollies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Docks
Strolling along
By the teeming docks,
I watch the ships put out.
Black ships that heave and lunge
And move like mastodons
Arising from lethargic sleep.
The fathomed harbor
Calls them not nor dares
Them to a strain of action,
But outward, on and outward,
Sounding low-reverberating calls,
Shaggy in the half-lit distance,
They pass the pointed headland,
View the wide, far-lifting wilderness
And leap with cumulative speed
To test the challenge of the sea.
Plunging,
Doggedly onward plunging,
Into salt and mist and foam and sun.
poem by Carl Sandburg
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In the road ships must ride in 30, 40, or 50 fathom water, not above half a mile from the shore at farthest: and if there are many ships they must ride close one by another.
quote by William Dampier
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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At My Window Sad And Lonely
At my window, sad and lonely
Oft times do I think of thee
Sad and lonely and I wonder
Do you ever think of me
Every day is sad and lonely
And every night is sad and blue
Do you ever think of me my darling
As you sail that ocean blue
At my window, sad and lonely
I stand and look across the sea
And I sad and lonely wonder
Do you ever think of me
Will you find another sweetheart
In some far and distant land
Sad and lonely now I wonder
If our boat will ever land
Ships may ply the stormy ocean
And planes may fly the stormy sky
I'm sad and lonely but remember
Oh I'll love you till I die
song performed by by Wilco
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Cycle
The clapping blackness of the wings of pointed cormorants,
the great indolent planes
Of autumn pelicans nine or a dozen strung shorelong,
But chiefly the gulls, the cloud-caligraphers of windy spirals
before a storm,
Cruise north and south over the sea-rocks and over
That bluish enormous opal; very lately these alone, these and the
clouds
And westering lights of heaven, crossed it; but then
A hull with standing canvas crept about Point Lobos . . . now
all day long the steamers
Smudge the opal's rim; often a seaplane troubles
The sea-wind with its throbbing heart. These will increase, the
others diminish; and later
These will diminish; our Pacific has pastured
The Mediterranean torch and passed it west across the fountains
of the morning;
And the following desolation that feeds on Crete
Feed here; the clapping blackness of the wings of pointed cormorants,
the great sails
Of autumn pelicans, the gray sea-going gulls,
Alone will streak the enormous opal, the earth have peace like the
broad water, our blood's
Unrest have doubled to Asia and be peopling
Europe again, or dropping colonies at the morning star: what
moody traveler
Wanders back here, watches the sea-fowl circle
The old sea-granite and cemented granite with one regard, and
greets my ghost,
One temper with the granite, bulking about here?
poem by Robinson Jeffers
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Racism,
Racism
Racism all great foolishness to those that perish,
Black and White,
God the Master Plan for flesh and blood,
Ain't nobody telling me black and white hast that distinguish,
In my own understanding,
History is a Beauty of Humanity to live and to see,
The simple life we lead,
So short and hard by our own making,
What is the basics of racism?
Like Nietchze said,
We are the gods to wash the earth,
If we kill the black or white,
When will we see the power of God in us,
Since a power of god is revealed in man,
Let us see the earthly volition as Dynamic,
Half and half,
We all are people that share the same earth,
This planet is so Beautiful,
Whilst many waste time saying of racist,
That power will fade,
But love in secret will never perish,
Love hast that unlimited,
No half missing,
Most intellects be half missing,
But to release the burden of racism,
Let's all improve on our character,
That the positive vibe's may make the Sword increase,
Love is power of the Word,
All race one,
All blood from same brothers and sisters,
Can't you see that you can never fathom all the secrets of the world?
If we all say we all know,
Surely we all say that we all insane.
poem by Maxpoet Beauty
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Anzac Eve
For some, it was the last sun that should set,
For many, their last glimpse of fecund day
A splendid sun, dipping, reluctant yet,
Into blue water west of Mudros Bay;
And they - new burnished coin to squander free
In 'that red purchase' on Gallipoli.
They guessed not; or, half guessing, did not reck
That for the doomed no other sun should rise
But to reveal the still forms that would fleck
The Anzac Beach; staring with lifeless eyes
Where carrier pigeons, white against the blue,
Bore the dread tale for other skies they knew.
They sang, they laughed; and laughing cursed again
The long monotony of Mudros Bay.
Like hounds released, the eager shouting men
Crowded the decks and whiled the time away
At cards; half fearing what they most desired
Might be denied them yet; and no shot fired.
And, as that sun set in the azure vast,
Who counted one day more or one day less?
How many deemed it was for them the last
To light a world of blood and bitterness?
Yet bitterness for many a heart lay there
When next the sun blazed over Sari Bair.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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A Pool of Blood
A pool of water causes us to play with words,
Inner feelings may conceive an exalted frame of mind.
A pool is like radiation, all the yawning is converted
Into a character of good, a conversion has been made.
A pool is of blood, a real royal boredom of blue blood,
A spoilt man is issuing secrets that kingdoms do love.
When murder is bloody and minded by the some
We crave, destruction is the key, for almighty freedom.
A pool of immediate appearance is before my own eyes,
My ears are against my sight, for I have no idea of sound.
What is the murder when pools of bright blood stain the floors
With the anger and hunger of a killer, a sentinel of alien rudeness.
poem by Naveed Akram
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How Long Can We Ride This Crazy Bus?
Put your nuclear reactors
and power plants on Mars,
Mars was ruined from all
of the wars.
Wars we had way
in the past..
Look at Planet Earth
do we have a chance?
Think of the future
and not of the greed
Today,
Maybe we might live
and be able to say,
We did this for our children,
and for us,
How long can we ride this
Dangerous crazy bus?
Written on March 15,2011 by Christina Sunrise
poem by Suzae Chevalier
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Pale
Pale blue clouds, in a pale blue sky,
Pale sea birds, fly every which way.
O'er the pale blue sea, they softly fly,
Throughout the pale blue day.
Pale brown grass, withering alone,
Amid the sand dunes dying.
Pale as a sun bleached animal bone,
As you hear the sea breeze sighing.
Pale grey mist upon the sea,
Slowly creeping to the shore.
Pale giant tarpons jumping free,
As the pale Atlantic, gently roars.
12/3/11 Alton Texas
poem by Juan Olivarez
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Yellow And Rose
Notes:
JT on Sony.com: Botany Bay is where they brought the convicts. . .The dregs of British society who became the finest nation on God's green earth. . . beautiful. Yellow and Rose is a half baked thing about transportation, transformation and Australia.
Yellow and Rose
Yellow and Rose
Yellow and Rose
Oh boy, Botany Bay
Watching the water go by
Here's your home so far away
Here is a tear for your eye
Here is a vast and unknown land
Here are the strangers on the sand
Oh, seeds of the universe ever endeavor to grow
Tiny pieces of everything into the water they go
Everything changes for the strangers on the shore
They are blue and green no more
They are yellow and rose
Down under got the south side
This groovy crazy planet
Watching from the outside
It's as smooth as a gravy sandwich
People play music night for day
One caught the sun in a sekere
Seeds of the universe ever endeavor to grow
Tiny pieces of everything into the water they go
Everything changes for the strangers on the shore
They are blue and green no more
They are yellow and rose
Remember when we thought we were in California
We thought it was the eye of the hurricane
Old gypsy woman she tried to warn you
"You'll be back this way again
Hungry for the rain
It's written in your hand, plain"
Seeds of the universe ever endeavor to grow
Tiny pieces of everything into the water they go
Everything changes for the strangers on the shore
They are blue and green no more
They are yellow and rose
Yellow and Rose
Yellow and Rose
Yellow and Rose
song performed by by James Taylor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bottled Message - Initial Version
From shore to shore
I brave wild waves
with winds unsure
'bove mermaid cave,
in shine or pour
with message grave
within I store,
from water save.
While currents flow
from East to West
I onwards go
and do my best
to bring words so
they find fair guest
whose heart may know
shared joy unguessed.
Thus bottle green
upon sea blue
will float unseen
by blue sky too,
until the scene
is set for two
to find love keen
which years renew.
One could write on
till cows come home,
unreel tale long
on how to roam
at sea in song,
words honeycomb
in plaits sweet, strong,
'neath starry dome.
But this might bore
the reader who
might stop before
end comes on cue,
paint stormy roar
and calm - but few
can cope with more
than this so you
must know to woo
was message sent
on Chance's tide
to represent
love none should hide.
Tale ends - Fate meant
two bona fide
to find shared tent,
and there abide...
(9 January 2008)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Burning Blue
Photons lacerate the air in waves of ev'ry hue,
plunging through successfully except for burning blue.
Motes of dust and water drops play cricket with blue balls,
weaving veils of endless blue in vast concentric shawls.
When the rays are vertical they drill through skin and bone,
drain all sheen from vibrant green, steal water from dry stone.
Then all life is forced to heed light's power to subdue.
The mantle of the victor is a fire of flaming blue.
poem by Diane Hine
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Yellow & Rose
Notes:
Jt on sony.com: botany bay is where they brought the convicts. . .the dregs of british society who became the finest nation on gods green earth. . . beautiful. yellow and rose is a half baked t
About transportation, transformation and australia.
Yellow and rose
Yellow and rose
Yellow and rose
Oh boy, botany bay
Watching the water go by
Heres your home so far away
Here is a tear for your eye
Here is a vast and unknown land
Here are the strangers on the sand
Oh, seeds of the universe ever endeavor to grow
Tiny pieces of everything into the water they go
Everything changes for the strangers on the shore
They are blue and green no more
They are yellow and rose
Down under got the south side
This groovy crazy planet
Watching from the outside
Its as smooth as a gravy sandwich
People play music night for day
One caught the sun in a sekere
Seeds of the universe ever endeavor to grow
Tiny pieces of everything into the water they go
Everything changes for the strangers on the shore
They are blue and green no more
They are yellow and rose
Remember when we thought we were in california
We thought it was the eye of the hurricane
Old gypsy woman she tried to warn you
Youll be back this way again
Hungry for the rain
Its written in your hand, plain
Seeds of the universe ever endeavor to grow
Tiny pieces of everything into the water they go
Everything changes for the strangers on the shore
They are blue and green no more
They are yellow and rose
Yellow and rose
Yellow and rose
Yellow and rose
song performed by by James Taylor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Table Bay
The sun sets over table bay
and that rough sea lies calm
and a moon rises full,
above the waves
and the thundering breakers
roar like they did
many years before
Odysseus sailed from the island of Ithaca
and went to Troy to war
where he accompanied the heroes
Neoptolemus and Philoctetes and the
armour and shield of great Achilles,
was his to take
and for years he dwelt
on stormy seas and in far away lands.
If per chance his ship would stray
and reach the cape of storms
in another age and time
and his eyes could see
the beauty of that lovely shore,
no other place would
his ship sail to
When Bartolomeu Dias set his ships sails
and left king John ashore,
he was prepared to sail
to the ends of the earth
and no horrendous sea creature
could keep his ships in check.
I wonder what he thought
when the fog faded away
and table mount sprang into view
and table bay lay stretched out
up to its shore
and when he set his cross
did he know that he was marking
a great place
and when he marked his charts
did he wish to come back
to that stormy Cape?
When King John gave the name
Cabo da Bõa Esperança,
did he know that he was naming a place
from where a nation would sprout
and that it would become a city of hope?
[Reference: =>”Cabo da Bõa Esperança=>Cape of Good Hope”]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Port Bou
As a child holds a pet,
Arms clutching but with hands that do not join,
And the coiled animal watches the gap
To outer freedom in animal air,
So the earth-and-rock flesh arms of this harbour
Embrace but do not enclose the sea
Which, through a gap, vibrates to the open sea
Where ships and dolphins swim and above is the sun.
In the bright winter sunlight I sit on the stone parapet
Of a bridge; my circling arms rest on a newspaper
Empty in my mind as the glittering stone
Because I search for an image
And seeing an image I count out the coined words
To remember the childish headlands of Port Bou.
A lorry halts beside me with creaking brakes
And I look up at warm waving flag-like faces
Of militia men staring down at my French newspaper.
'How do they write of our struggle, over the frontier?'
I hold out the paper, but they refuse,
They did not ask for anything so precious
But only for friendly words and to offer me cigarettes.
In their smiling faces the war finds peace, the famished mouths
Of the rusty carbines brush against their trousers
Almost as fragilely as reeds;
And wrapped in a cloth - old mother in a shawl -
The terrible machine-gun rests.
They shout, salute back as the truck jerks forward
Over the vigorous hill, beyond the headland.
An old man passes, his running mouth,
With three teeth like bullets, spits out 'pom-pom-pom'.
The children run after; and, more slowly, the women,
Clutching their clothes, follow over the hill,
Till the village is empty, for the firing practice,
And I am left alone on the bridge at the exact centre
Where the cleaving river trickles like saliva.
At the exact centre, solitary as a target,
Where nothing moves against a background of cardboard houses
Except the disgraceful skirring dogs; and the firing begins,
Across the harbour mouth from headland to headland.
White flecks of foam gashed by lead in the sea;
And the echo trails over its iron lash
Whipping the flanks of the surrounding hills.
My circling arms rest on the newspaper,
My mind seems paper where dust and ink fall,
I tell myself the shooting is only for practice,
And my body seems a cloth which the machine-gun stitches
Like a sewing machine, neatly, with cotton from a reel,
And the solitary, irregular, thin 'paffs' from the carbines
Draw on long needles white threads through my navel.
poem by Stephen Spender
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Half sleeping birds
I should be driving over roads' margins;
arcane path in dim light; I rode in glory,
the flying sea gulls cared for my story,
and a peculiar writers' group to burgeon.
Inside me was a bellow, earth trembling,
was it a roar or many? In a stormy sea,
(half sleeping birds stood on a marquee) ,
both ships and humans were dissembling!
In the horizon the ships floated bitter,
onto their trip of sempiternal sorrows,
as I reached the moors in half shadows,
the three fates were my life's knitters.
It echoed reminding of my days of past,
it was the roar inside me like a thunder
my inner entity won't be torn asunder,
while the ships' travel to infinity lasts.
My past became a drive that draws away,
arcane memories reversed to my insides,
your invitation to an uninhabited Hades,
torn companionship was, sweet of Sunday.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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How Long Can We Ride This Crazy Bus?
Put your nuclear reactors
and power plants on Mars,
Mars was ruined from all
of the wars.
Wars we had way
in the past..
Look at Planet Earth
do we have a chance?
Think of the future
and not of the greed
Today,
Maybe we might live
and be able to say,
We did this for our children,
and for us,
How long can we ride this
Dangerous crazy bus?
Written on March 15,2011 by Christina Sunrise
poem by Christina Sunrise
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Open Road
THE roads of the Sea
Are thronged with merchantmen;
East and West, North and South
They go and come again.
All precious merchandise
They bear in their hold:
Lest the people be starving
In the night and cold.
Now tell me, good merchants,
How this thing can be
That the white ships are thronging
The roads of the sea?
For there's death in the skies
And there's death on the earth;
And men talked of famine
And a frozen hearth.
Yet the ships they go crowding
The roads of the sea;
They bring home their treasures
To you and to me.
O listen, good people,
And hearing, praise God,
That the watch-dogs are keeping
The ships on their road!
They sit watchful and steady
Where the North winds blow;
Sleepless they are keeping
The roads the ships go.
In the day, in the hour,
They will spring--until then,
Their eyes keep the courses
Of the merchantmen.
Forget not, good people,
When ye heap the white board,
When ye draw to the hearth-fire,
To praise the Lord,
That the watch-dogs unsleeping
Keep the roads of the Sea,
Up by the Northern Lights
Where the great ships be.
poem by Katharine Tynan
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Reflections
When I looked into your eyes,
I saw a garden
With peonies, and tinkling pagodas,
And round-arched bridges
Over still lakes.
A woman sat beside the water
In a rain-blue, silken garment.
She reached through the water
To pluck the crimson peonies
Beneath the surface,
But as she grasped the stems,
They jarred and broke into white-green ripples,
And as she drew out her hand,
The water-drops dripping from it
Stained her rain-blue dress like tears.
poem by Amy Lowell
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