En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Sydney Cove, 1788

SHE sat on the rocks, her fireless eyes
Teased and tired with the thoughts of yore;
And paining her sense were alien skies,
An alien sea and an alien shore.
In gold-green dusks she glimpsed new flowers
And the glittering wings of gleaming birds —
But haunting her still were English bowers
And the clinging sweetness of old love-words.
A soft breeze murmured of unknown shores
And laughed as it touched her with fingers light,
But she mourned the more for the wind that roars
Down sullen coasts on a northern night.
Like topaz gems on a sable dome
The stranger stars stole shyly forth;
She saw no stars like the stars of home
That burned, white-fired, in the frosty north.
A restless sea was at her feet,
A restless sea of darkest blue;
The lights burned dimly on The Fleet,
And these were all the ships it knew.
She watched the dark tides rise and fall,
The lion-tides that, night and noon,
Range round the world, and moan and call
In sad sea-voices to the moon.
Thus while she watched they ebbed and flowed;
Till last with sudden splendour Day
Lit all the scene with gold, and showed
An arrow black on a garb of grey.

poem by Roderic Quinn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Alien

Alien to love
Alien to hate
Alien to knowledge
Alien to fate
Alien to sanity
Alien insane
Alien to caring
Alien in pain

poem by Poet Dragon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Finding

From the candles and dumb shadows,
And the house where love had died,
I stole to the vast moonlight
And the whispering life outside.
But I found no lips of comfort,
No home in the moon's light
(I, little and lone and frightened
In the unfriendly night),
And no meaning in the voices. . . .
Far over the lands and through
The dark, beyond the ocean,
I willed to think of you!
For I knew, had you been with me
I'd have known the words of night,
Found peace of heart, gone gladly
In comfort of that light.

Oh! the wind with soft beguiling
Would have stolen my thought away;
And the night, subtly smiling,
Came by the silver way;
And the moon came down and danced to me,
And her robe was white and flying;
And trees bent their heads to me
Mysteriously crying;
And dead voices wept around me;
And dead soft fingers thrilled;
And the little gods whispered. . . .
But ever
Desperately I willed;
Till all grew soft and far
And silent . . .
And suddenly
I found you white and radiant,
Sleeping quietly,
Far out through the tides of darkness.
And I there in that great light
Was alone no more, nor fearful;
For there, in the homely night,
Was no thought else that mattered,
And nothing else was true,
But the white fire of moonlight,
And a white dream of you.

poem by Rupert Brooke (1909)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Stars

Stars, the eyes of the world
- A million love stories could tell.
Sweetest songs fall under their spell
And along with blue moon
Ring the softest bell.
Shooting stars
Gunned me down
Yet i fell without a sound
Your passion was so profound.
This aurora
From Interflora
I sent you in my dreams
As i watched in silver streams
Our starlight slipping away.
Stars, our memories collected in jars
That we keep for a rainy day,
To spread over our dismay
To hide our battle scars
- We ride the milky way.
Stars, your eyes stole diamonds bright
Took them from spectral night
To set my frozen heart alight.
Now reflecting strokes
Of pale blue light
On my canvas of pain
Where mute moon
Still calls us to meet again.
As eternity waits at rusty gates
For us to fade to grey
Our supernova was never over
As stars kissed our heaven today.

poem by Kevin East
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Yellow Moon

Anxious hope and thoughts of love will never let me down, not let me go
Inside, my hearts a cage of ice loved and lost,
Still toss the lonely dice
I burned the whole night long my thoughts were never far from you
Love that locks and binds must die
But when it dies a part of you dies too.
Born, born, born upon the world the restless heart keeps flying,
Trying to become the heart of home.
Love, love, love, it picks you up and spins you round,
Sits you right back down where you belong.
I dont fit my hat sometimes, I get so full of clouds
Every time I pass your door I hear you cry out loud
Sometimes I look the same to you as you have looked to me
My eyes get filled so full of stars, I dont know when I leave
Born, born, born upon the world the restless heart keeps flying,
Trying to become the heart of home.
Love, love, love, it picks you up and spins you round,
Sits you right back down where you belong.
Love is like the april rain that makes the harvest grow
And when it grows its like the summer gold
Love is like the coloured leaves that drift down from the trees
One by one til every tale is told
Now if I go a dancing out across the yellow moon
Ill be home by morning if it doesnt come too soon
If you seek protection go and find a safer man
And if he cant give you what you want then come on by again.
Priestess of the sun and moon and goddess of the wind
You know too much to ever lose and not enough to win
Though you built your house upon the rock and not upon the sand
Youre still looking out your window for another travelin man.
Born, born, born upon the world the restless heart keeps flying,
Trying to become the heart of home.
Love, love, love, it picks you up and spins you round,
Sits you right back down where you belong.

song performed by by Grateful Dead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Want An Alien For Christmas

This year for christmas
Theres something Id really like
So if youre up there somewhere santa
Please dont bring me another bike
I dont need any ugly sweaters
And I dont play much basketball
But theres something kinda special
That I want most of all...
I want an alien for christmas
Bring me an alien this year
I want a little green guy
About three feet high
With seventeen eyes
Who knows how to fly
I want an alien for christmas this year
He can live in the bath tub
So dont worry about a thing
And Ill take him out for walks
When it gets nicer in the spring
Ill always keep him company
Hell never be alone
And we can hang around the house all day
And watch the twilight zone
I want an alien for christmas
Bring me an alien this year
I want a little green guy
About three feet high
With seventeen eyes
Who knows how to fly
I want an alien for christmas this year
I want an alien for christmas
Bring me an alien this year
I want a little green guy
About three feet high
With seventeen eyes
Who knows how to fly
I want an alien for christmas this year
I want an alien for christmas this year

song performed by by Fountains Of Wayne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Musings

I sat by my window one night,
And watched how the stars grew high;
And the earth and skies were a splendid sight
To a sober and musing eye.

From heaven the silver moon shone down
With gentle and mellow ray,
And beneath the crowded roofs of the town
In broad light and shadow lay.

A glory was on the silent sea,
And mainland and island too,
Till a haze came over the lowland lea,
And shrouded that beautiful blue.

Bright in the moon the autumn wood
Its crimson scarf unrolled,
And the trees like a splendid army stood
In a panoply of gold!

I saw them waving their banners high,
As their crests to the night wind bowed,
And a distant sound on the air went by,
Like the whispering of a crowd.

Then I watched from my window how fast
The lights all around me fled,
As the wearied man to his slumber passed
And the sick one to his bed.

All faded save one, that burned
With distant and steady light;
But that, too, went out -- and I turned
Where my own lamp within shone bright!

Thus, thought I, our joys must die,
Yes -- the brightest from earth we win:
Till each turns away, with a sign,
To the lamp that burns brightly within.

poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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The Land Of The Dawning

Darkrose her shore in seas of amethyst
By tropic breezes kissed,
A summer land in watery wastes forlorn,
Her ranges floating in the snow-white mist
And gold of early morn.
The tides of Empire ebbed and flowed afar;
The thrones of nations in the dust were hurled,
Silent she slept beneath the morning star,
A virgin world.
Love, Birth, and Death, the stress of Age and Race,
Changed not her maiden face—
Unstocked her pastures and untilled her soil—
She who for labour builds a throne apace
Saw not her people toil;
Down the low valleys, up the stormy steeps,
Careless they roamed at will: the land was free
From desert stark to where the mangrove sleeps
Upon the sea.

There dropped no anchor at her river bars
Beneath the quiet stars;
No wandering sail her silent waters swept;
By waste and scrub, o’er plain and rocky scars
No alien footstep crept;
In feathery billows of her grassy seas
Some lonely mountain stretched its capes of blue;
Only the heavens above her and the breeze
Her secrets knew.

Where the wild grass grew rank on slopes forlorn
Rise fields of yellow corn,
And purple lucerne-bloom makes sweet the air;
The sullen mountain, lost in mists of morn,
Its golden heart lays bare.
Spoils of her pastures crowd full many a mart;
Her glittering treasure calls to many a land;
She has no secrets for the daring heart
And strong brown hand.

The smoke and thunder of her cities rise
To the same careless skies;
Her arteries thread the same wide sunlit leas,
Her fleets stretch forth their wings of enterprise
O’er the same summer seas.
She to the Nations cries: “No Past, no Fame,
No Memories quicken round my flag unfurled;
The mightier, therefore, shall I carve my name
Upon the World.”

poem by George Essex Evans
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Love Magical

IF you had been where I have been
(Grey, grey the skies above),
And you had seen what I have seen,
You would not laugh at love.
Seek, seek till you find a rose
Red all through to its petal-tips,
And you shall know the curve of her mouth,
The scent of her breath and the red of her lips.
If you had heard what I have heard
(Dull, dull the beat of the sea).
Your heart would leap like a singing bird
Troubled and thrilled by ecstasy.
Stars sing in the dark o' the night,
Birds sing in the gold o' the noon;
Melody reigned in her speech a queen,
The song of the stars and the birds' tune.
The rose is dead that was her mouth
(Pale, pale on the earth it lies),
And East and West and North and South
The world is full of weeping eyes.
A noon is dark, a star is gone,
A rose is dead, a bird is mute;
And love that made sounds magical
Is silent like a broken lute.

poem by Roderic Quinn
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How Many Lights Do You See?

How many lights do you see?
How many lights do you see?
There's one to say that night has come
And there's one that guards this jagged shore
And there's one to call the children home
And there's one to light the path they take
How many lights do you see?
How many lights do you see?
There's one to keep the shadows off
And there's one that tells me she got home
And there's one to read his novel by
And there's one that warms this dreary room
And there's one to watch the baby sleep
And there's one to count the blinking stars
And there's one that I just can't forget
And there's one that I remember too
How many lights do you see?
How many lights do you see?
There's one that waits for closing time
And there's one that gets left on all night
And there's one that marks the western sky
And it shines down on the quiet street
And there's one that floods the darker parts
And there's one that hurts my tired eyes
And there's one that says she's not asleep
And there's one that waits for her to wake
How many lights do you see?
How many lights do you see?
There is one that spills out on the beach
And it sparkles on the jetting rocks
And there is one that waits for tired ships
That sleep within this tired port

song performed by by Bright Eyes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tease

shall i fly with you on a first class suite
to the blue skies
the soft cottony clouds our mattresses
the moon our bed
the stars our glittering lights and the wind
of the night
our air conditioning delights

how the grass shall envy us
how the earth shall look at us with suspense

as we make love till dusk and as tired as lovers are
we sleep like two white feathers left inside the nest

we like to think that way
but how can this ever be?

night and day, that is what we are, how can we ever be together?
earth and sky, floor and ceiling

two parallel lines running in opposite directions
we shall never ever meet

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Seeker

GOOD People, by your fires to-night
Sit close and praise the red, red wood!
The wind is cold, the moon is white;
With me who wander 'tis not well; it is not well, but God is good.
'Fore birth I was foredoomed to roam,
To keep my soul and self apart,
An alien without hearth and home —
With me who wander 'tis not well; there is no warmth of fire or heart.
I mate with all the wandering winds
That roam across the wintry earth;
What time behind your close-drawn blinds
Your firelit faces smile and smile, I would that I might share their
mirth.
But if I entered I should sit
A wordless dreamer at your fire;
With heart unwarmed and eyes unlit,
I should be like a spectre there, shut off from you and your desire.
And yet, I would that I might warm
My heart and hands at your fire-glow;
But headlong seas and shouting storm
They thrill my blood, they fill my eyes, they call me forth, and I must
go.
Good People, maids and dames and sires,
Ye have your little woe and mirth;
Ye dream no dream; but there are spires
That point to stars, and still point on in spite of this dark, drawing
earth.
It is not well with me to-night,
And I by that strange shore would be
Where, 'twist day's last grey gleam and night,
A Wonder wanes that I alone of all the world must seek and see.
What cliffs they be, what sea rolls there,
I do not know; but, spirit-chained,
Lost visions fill me with despair,
And all the washed grey foreland speaks of some strange Wonder that
has waned.
Good People, bread and wine are good,
And all your visions goodly be.
But some may crave for other food,
And some are seekers from their birth, and dream of lights they shall
not see.
And there is he who fain would find
A Wonder by an alien shore:
Athwart the seas he speeds his mind,
But on the instant fades a light, and lo, the Wonder is no more.

poem by Roderic Quinn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Night Sky

The Night Sky
Stars Were So Bright In The Nights Dark Sky
The Little Lights That Lit Up The Black Spots In Space
Stars That We Wondered In
And Saw Many Wonderful Things
Like The Many Stars That Are Out There...
How There Are So Many Lights In The Night Sky...
How The Night Sky Could Look So Great
In Only Black And White
The Same Thing, The Same Looks..
Yet So Many Objects And Point Outs Of Our Imagination
Oh, How The Night Sky
When We Look On about Its The Same Sky We See When We're Away From Each other
The Same Crescent Moon, The Same Stars
The Same Look Outs That Remind Me Of You.

poem by Gabina Gomez
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Crocodile

I saw a crocodile in the blue deep of the west

It sprang from the alien seas of Antartica

The netherworld seems to be its nest

It was bejewelled all over

I found a lovely lad rushing at it

With a rainbow in his hand

He shot an arrow black and yellow

At the star spangled head of the crocdile

And momently there leaped forth a fountain of light

That flooded the world of sight

The light was something like deep night

Where there is neither moon nor stars

poem by Dr. Ramesh Chandra Mukhopadhyaya
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St. Valentine's Day

The South is a dream of flowers
With a jewel for sky and sea,
Rose-crowns for the dancing hours,
Gold fruits upon every tree;
But cold from the North The wind blows forth
That blows my love to me.
The stars in the South are gold
Like lamps between sky and sea;
The flowers that the forests hold.
Like stars between tree and tree;
But little and white Is the pale moon's light
That lights my love to me.
In the South the orange grove
Makes dusk by the dusky sea,
White palaces wrought for love
Gleam white between tree and tree,
But under bare boughs Is the little house
Warm-lit for my love and me.

poem by Edith Nesbit
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Lost In The Stars

(kurt weill/maxwell anderson)
Before lord God made the sea and the land
He held all the stars in the palm of his hand
And they ran through his fingers like grains of sand
And one little star fall alone
Then the lord God hunted through the wild night air
For the little dark star in the wind down there
And he stated and promised hed take special care
So it wouldnt get lost again
Now, man dont mind if the stars grow dim
And the clouds blow over and darken him
So long as the lord gods watching over him
Keeping track how it all goes on
But Ive been walking through the night and the day
Till my eyes get weary and my hair turns grey
And sometimes it seems maybe gods gone away
Forgetting the promise that we heard him say
And were lost out here in the stars
Little stars, big stars
Blowing through the night
And were lost out here in the stars
Little stars, big stars
Blowing through the night
And were lost out here in the stars

song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fish, The

In a cool curving world he lies
And ripples with dark ecstasies.
The kind luxurious lapse and steal
Shapes all his universe to feel
And know and be; the clinging stream
Closes his memory, glooms his dream,
Who lips the roots o' the shore, and glides
Superb on unreturning tides.
Those silent waters weave for him
A fluctuant mutable world and dim,
Where wavering masses bulge and gape
Mysterious, and shape to shape
Dies momently through whorl and hollow,
And form and line and solid follow
Solid and line and form to dream
Fantastic down the eternal stream;
An obscure world, a shifting world,
Bulbous, or pulled to thin, or curled,
Or serpentine, or driving arrows,
Or serene slidings, or March narrows.
There slipping wave and shore are one,
And weed and mud. No ray of sun,
But glow to glow fades down the deep
(As dream to unknown dream in sleep);
Shaken translucency illumes
The hyaline of drifting glooms;
The strange soft-handed depth subdues
Drowned colour there, but black to hues,
As death to living, decomposes --
Red darkness of the heart of roses,
Blue brilliant from dead starless skies,
And gold that lies behind the eyes,
The unknown unnameable sightless white
That is the essential flame of night,
Lustreless purple, hooded green,
The myriad hues that lie between
Darkness and darkness! . . .

And all's one.
Gentle, embracing, quiet, dun,
The world he rests in, world he knows,
Perpetual curving. Only -- grows
An eddy in that ordered falling,
A knowledge from the gloom, a calling
Weed in the wave, gleam in the mud --
The dark fire leaps along his blood;
Dateless and deathless, blind and still,
The intricate impulse works its will;
His woven world drops back; and he,
Sans providence, sans memory,
Unconscious and directly driven,
Fades to some dank sufficient heaven.

O world of lips, O world of laughter,
Where hope is fleet and thought flies after,
Of lights in the clear night, of cries
That drift along the wave and rise
Thin to the glittering stars above,
You know the hands, the eyes of love!
The strife of limbs, the sightless clinging,
The infinite distance, and the singing
Blown by the wind, a flame of sound,
The gleam, the flowers, and vast around
The horizon, and the heights above --
You know the sigh, the song of love!

But there the night is close, and there
Darkness is cold and strange and bare;
And the secret deeps are whisperless;
And rhythm is all deliciousness;
And joy is in the throbbing tide,
Whose intricate fingers beat and glide
In felt bewildering harmonies
Of trembling touch; and music is
The exquisite knocking of the blood.
Space is no more, under the mud;
His bliss is older than the sun.
Silent and straight the waters run.
The lights, the cries, the willows dim,
And the dark tide are one with him.

poem by Rupert Brooke
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Fish

In a cool curving world he lies
And ripples with dark ecstasies.
The kind luxurious lapse and steal
Shapes all his universe to feel
And know and be; the clinging stream
Closes his memory, glooms his dream,
Who lips the roots o' the shore, and glides
Superb on unreturning tides.
Those silent waters weave for him
A fluctuant mutable world and dim,
Where wavering masses bulge and gape
Mysterious, and shape to shape
Dies momently through whorl and hollow,
And form and line and solid follow
Solid and line and form to dream
Fantastic down the eternal stream;
An obscure world, a shifting world,
Bulbous, or pulled to thin, or curled,
Or serpentine, or driving arrows,
Or serene slidings, or March narrows.
There slipping wave and shore are one,
And weed and mud. No ray of sun,
But glow to glow fades down the deep
(As dream to unknown dream in sleep);
Shaken translucency illumes
The hyaline of drifting glooms;
The strange soft-handed depth subdues
Drowned colour there, but black to hues,
As death to living, decomposes --
Red darkness of the heart of roses,
Blue brilliant from dead starless skies,
And gold that lies behind the eyes,
The unknown unnameable sightless white
That is the essential flame of night,
Lustreless purple, hooded green,
The myriad hues that lie between
Darkness and darkness! . . .

And all's one.
Gentle, embracing, quiet, dun,
The world he rests in, world he knows,
Perpetual curving. Only - grows
An eddy in that ordered falling,
A knowledge from the gloom, a calling
Weed in the wave, gleam in the mud -
The dark fire leaps along his blood;
Dateless and deathless, blind and still,
The intricate impulse works its will;
His woven world drops back; and he,
Sans providence, sans memory,
Unconscious and directly driven,
Fades to some dank sufficient heaven.

O world of lips, O world of laughter,
Where hope is fleet and thought flies after,
Of lights in the clear night, of cries
That drift along the wave and rise
Thin to the glittering stars above,
You know the hands, the eyes of love!
The strife of limbs, the sightless clinging,
The infinite distance, and the singing
Blown by the wind, a flame of sound,
The gleam, the flowers, and vast around
The horizon, and the heights above -
You know the sigh, the song of love!

But there the night is close, and there
Darkness is cold and strange and bare;
And the secret deeps are whisperless;
And rhythm is all deliciousness;
And joy is in the throbbing tide,
Whose intricate fingers beat and glide
In felt bewildering harmonies
Of trembling touch; and music is
The exquisite knocking of the blood.
Space is no more, under the mud;
His bliss is older than the sun.
Silent and straight the waters run.
The lights, the cries, the willows dim,
And the dark tide are one with him.

poem by Rupert Brooke (1911)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Possession

The first star which appears in the morning -
I look deep into your eyes -
I love the surprise -
I see more in the expression on your face, by the blue crystal display in the skies -
By your touch the flowers bloom, the stars quake as they rise with the moon -
Watch the moon -
Watch her subside in the sky -
Wink a kiss to receive a wish -
She shines to sparkle at night -
With the stars she lights the ways of the milky, bright by sight -
Will she surrender a spoon -
Will she be tender at noon -
Alone she floats in the dark -
But together, we will steer her clear from fear -
Our passion -
Is our transgression -
Love is our possession

poem by Unic Cjonr
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Alien Afternoon

Woke up in the morning staggered out of bed
Thought about getting back again, but went downstairs instead
Read the daily paper have to know the truth
Slammed the door as i ran outside, looked at my watch and cried
Gotta get to work on time
Gotta get to work on time
Then the sky turned a deeper blue
Not a cloud as the sun shone through
But all around rain kept falling to the ground
The wind was blowing but the trees didn't make a sound
Just another alien afternoon
Just another alien afternoon
Time that i was leaving while there's still a chance
Before i start believing in what i see or hear
Nothing here to keep me, nothing anywhere
Gotta get out pack my bags before i go insane
Gotta get away in time
Gotta get away in time
Then the sky turned from blue to green
Took on colours i have never seen
Then a sound started ringing in my ears
I heard voices but in truth there's nobody there
Just another alien afternoon
Just another alien afternoon
To be there back where i belong
To feel again the wind upon my face
To see again all that i took for granted
All that i left and everything i knew
We are home
We are your home
We are all your home
Not another alien afternoon
Never more to go wandering
Never leaving my world behind
There was never a reason
To leave my heart and my home behind
Where i was born is where i should be now
I would never be lonely
I would never be sad again
I wanted to go anywhere
I wanted to see how strange it all could be
Nothing would ever take me away again
Never more to go wandering
Never leaving my world behind
No, no, no, no
Nothing will ever take me away again, away again
No, no, no, no

song performed by by Genesis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Children Of The Foam

OUT forever and forever,
Where our tresses glint and shiver
On the icy moonlit air;
Come we from a land of gloaming,
Children lost, forever homing,
Never, never reaching there;
Ride we, ride we, ever faster,
Driven by our demon master,
The wild wind in his despair.
Ride we, ride we, ever home,
Wan, white children of the foam.

In the wild October dawning,
When the heaven's angry awning
Leans to lakeward, bleak and drear;
And along the black, wet ledges,
Under icy, caverned edges,
Breaks the lake in maddened fear;
And the woods in shore are moaning;
Then you hear our weird intoning,
Mad, late children of the year;
Ride we, ride we, ever home,
Lost, white children of the foam.

All grey day, the black sky under,
Where the beaches moan and thunder,
Where the breakers spume and comb,
You may hear our riding, riding,
You may hear our voices chiding,
Under glimmer, under gloam;
Like a far-off infant wailing,

You may hear our hailing, hailing,
For the voices of our home;
Ride we, ride we, ever home,
Haunted children of the foam.

And at midnight, when the glimmer
Of the moon grows dank and dimmer,
Then we lift our gleaming eyes;
Then you see our white arms tossing,
Our wan breasts the moon embossing,
Under gloom of lake and skies;
You may hear our mournful chanting,
And our voices haunting, haunting,
Through the night's mad melodies;
Riding, riding, ever home,
Wild, white children of the foam.

There, forever and forever,
Will no demon-hate dissever
Peace and sleep and rest and dream:
There is neither fear nor fret there
When the tired children get there,
Only dews and pallid beam
Fall in gentle peace and sadness
Over long surcease of madness,
From hushed skies that gleam and gleam,
In the longed-for, sought-for home
Of the children of the foam.

There the streets are hushed and restful,
And of dreams is every breast full,
With the sleep that tired eyes wear;
There the city hath long quiet
From the madness and the riot,
From the failing hearts of care;
Balm of peacefulness ingliding,
Dream we through our riding, riding,
As we homeward, homeward fare;
Riding, riding, ever home,
Wild, white children of the foam.

Under pallid moonlight beaming,
Under stars of midnight gleaming,
And the ebon arch of night;
Round the rosy edge of morning,
You may hear our distant horning,
You may mark our phantom flight;
Riding, riding, ever faster,
Driven by our demon master,
Under darkness, under light;
Ride we, ride we, ever home,
Wild, white children of the foam.

poem by William Wilfred Campbell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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