Dust
When I went to look at what had long been hidden,
A jewel laid long ago in a secret place,
I trembled, for I thought to see its dark deep fire --
But only a pinch of dust blew up in my face.
I almost gave my life long ago for a thing
That has gone to dust now, stinging my eyes --
It is strange how often a heart must be broken
Before the years can make it wise.
poem by Sara Teasdale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Cat People
See these eyes so green
I can stare for a thousand years
Colder than the moon
Feel my blood enraged
It's just the fear of losing you
Don't you know my name
Well, you been so long
And i've been putting out fire
With gasoline
See these eyes so red
Red like jungle burning bright
Those who feel me near
Pull the blinds and change their minds
It's been so long
Still this pulsing night
A plague i call a heartbeat
Just be still with me
But it wouldn't believe what i've been thru
You've been so long
Well it's been so long
And i've been putting out the fire with gasoline
Putting out the fire
With gasoline
See these tears so blue
An ageless heart that can never mend
Tears can never dry
A judgement made can never bend
See these eyes so green
I can stare for a thousand years
Just be still with me
You wouldn't believe what i've been thru
Well you've been so long
It's been so long
And i've been putting out fire with gasoline
Putting out fire with gasoline
Putting out fire
We've been putting out fire
Well it's been so long so long so long
Yes it's been so long so long so long
I've been putting out fire
Been so long so long so long
And putting out fire
Been so long so long so long
Yeah yeah putting out fire
Been so long so long so long
Been putting out fire
Been so long so long so long
Yeah putting out fire
Been so long so long so long
Putting out fire
Been so long so long so long
It's been so long
Been so long so long so long
It's been so long
Been so long so long so long
It's been so long
Been so long so long so long
I've been putting out fire
Been so long so long so long
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Living In Dog Years
When your best friends a canary,
you've been too long in the mines.
The dust that marks
your skin and lungs
is never far behind.
Paler than a Vampire,
hidden from the Sun.
Long hours digging with your pick
wherever the seam may run.
Sometimes the dust
constricts your breath.
Some times you feel undone.
When you're living life in dog years,
you can count on dying young.
poem by John F. McCullagh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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On the Funeral of Charles the First
The castle clock had tolled midnight:
With mattock and with spade,
And silent, by the torches' light,
His corse in earth we laid.
The coffin bore his name, that those
Of other years might know,
When earth its secrets should disclose,
Whose bones were laid below.
"Peace to the dead" no children sung,
Slow pacing up the nave,--
No prayers were read, no knell was rung,
As deep we dug his grave.
We only heard the winter's wind,
In many a sullen gust,
As, o'er the open grave inclined,
We murmured, "Dust to dust!"
A moonbeam from the arch's height
Streamed, as we placed the stone;
The long aisles started into light,
And all the windows shone.
We thought we saw the banners then,
That shook along the walls,
Whilst the sad shades of mailèd men
Were gazing on the stalls.
'Tis gone! again on tombs defaced
Sits darkness more profound;
And only by the torch we traced
The shadows on the ground.
And now the chilling, freezing air
Without blew long and loud;
Upon our knees we breathed one prayer,
Where he slept in his shroud.
We laid the broken marble floor,--
No name, no trace appears,--
And when we closed the sounding door,
We thought of him with tears.
poem by William Lisle Bowles
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Dusty Doors
Child of the Aztec gods,
how long must we listen here,
how long before we go?
The dust is deep on the lintels.
The dust is dark on the doors.
If the dreams shake our bones,
what can we say or do?
Since early morning we waited.
Since early, early morning, child.
There must be dreams on the way now.
There must be a song for our bones.
The dust gets deeper and darker.
Do the doors and lintels shudder?
How long must we listen here?
How long before we go?
poem by Carl Sandburg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Secret Joy
If it were not for you
It seems that every day would be
A life unfulfilled.
Winter then forever and no smile of spring.
An icy lake without a melted heart within.
You are my secret joy.
When first I saw your face
A satisfaction took the place of sad distraction.
I knew my mind had been in a phase of leaving,
You drew me back a pace, with you I saw commitment,
This time there could be no dreaming,
No time for grieving what was past.
My secret joy was here with me.
So many times, I saw her face in your face.
That special wisdom of her eyes in your eyes,
I knew a child I thought was gone for always
Had brought joy home.
I watch you watch the joy you have made
Wonder if you know the joy that you gave
Would like you to know that the joy that you made
Is my joy too.
However long before the joy that you made.
That little blue the two of you gave.
I had a little joy of my own.
Even though the joy that I made,
Has gone the road that life takes.
Singing love songs to the joys of her own,
I see reflections of the Joy that I made,
In the eyes and the heart of the Joy, she has made.
I can see pink joy reflected in blue joy,
When I see it.
My secret joy.
poem by Susan Casey
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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How Long Will Be Too Long
Words: michael w. smith and wayne kirkpatrick
Music: michael w. smith
(tell me) how long will we grovel at the feet of wealth and power
(tell me) how long will we bow down to that golden calf
How long will be too long
(tell me) how long will we curtsy to the whims of new religion
How long will we water down the truth
til truth is no more
How long will be too long
Chorus:
The power of faith and love
Can change the stuff were made of
But still we wait
(tell me) how long will be too long
(tell me) how long will we drink from the chalice of indifference
Neither be hot or be cold
Can a sober soul know
How long will be too long
Chorus:
Is there not more to us
Than cursed dust to dust
I feel my hope fading
How long will be too long
How long will be too long
(tell me) how long will we travel from the ways that God intended
Wont it all tumble down if his holy wrath comes
How long will be too long
Chorus:
The power of faith and love
Can change the stuff were made of
When will it be too late
How long will be too long
How long will be too long
How long will be too long
song performed by by Michael W. Smith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pride Of Man
Turn around,
go back down,
back the way you came,
Can't you see that flash of fire ten times brighter than the day?
And behold a mighty city broken in the dust again,
Oh God, Pride of Man, broken in the dust again.
Turn around,
go back down,
back the way you came,
Babylon is laid to waste, Egypt's buried in her shame,
The mighty men are all beaten down, their kings are fallen in the ways,
Oh God, Pride of Man, broken in the dust again.
Turn around,
go back down,
back the way you came,
Terror is on every side, lo our leaders are dismayed.
For those who place their faith in fire, their faith in fire shall be
repaid,
Oh God, Pride of Man, broken in the dust again.
Turn around,
go back down,
back the way you came,
And shout a warning unto the nation that the sword of God is raised.
Yes, Babylon, that mighty city, rich in treasures, wide in fame,
Oh God, Pride of Man, broken in the dust again.
The meek shall cause your tower to fall, make of you a pyre of flame,
Oh you who dwell on many waters, rich in treasures, wide in fame.
you bow unto your God of gold, your pride of might shall be a shame,
For only God can lead His people back unto the Earth again.
Oh God, Pride of Man, broken in the dust again.
A Holy mountain be restored, and mercy on that people, that people
song performed by by Quicksilver Messenger Service
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Little Boy Blue
The little toy dog is covered with dust,
But sturdy and stanch he stands;
And the little toy soldier is red with rust,
And his musket molds in his hands.
Time was when the little toy dog was new
And the soldier was passing fair,
And that was the time when our Little Boy Blue
Kissed them and put them there.
"Now, don't you go till I come," he said,
"And don't you make any noise!"
So toddling off to his trundle-bed
He dreamed of the pretty toys.
And as he was dreaming, an angel song
Awakened our Little Boy Blue,--
Oh, the years are many, the years are long,
But the little toy friends are true.
Ay, faithful to Little Boy Blue they stand,
Each in the same old place,
Awaiting the touch of a little hand,
The smile of a little face.
And they wonder, as waiting these long years through,
In the dust of that little chair,
What has become of our Little Boy Blue
Since he kissed them and put them there.
poem by Eugene Field
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Camp Within the West
O DID you see a troop go by
Way-weary and oppressed,
Dead kisses on the drooping lip
And a dead heart in the breast?
Yea, I have seen them one by one
Way-weary and oppressed,
And when I asked them, ‘Whither speed?’
They answered, ‘To the West!’
And were they pale as pale could be—
Death-pale with haunted eyes,
And did you see the hot white dust
Range round their feet and rise?
Oh, they were pale as pale could be,
And pale as an embered leaf;
The hot white dust had risen, but
They laid it with their grief.
Did no one say the way is long,
And crave a little rest?
Oh no, they said, ‘The night is nigh,
Our camp is in the West!’
And did pain pierce their feet, as though
The way with thorns were set,
And were they visited by strange
Dark angels of regret?
Oh yea, and some were mute as death,
Though shot by many a dart,
With them the salt of inward tears
Went stinging through the heart.
And how are these wayfarers called,
And whither do they wend?
The Weary-Hearted—and their road
At sunset hath and end.
Shed tears for them…Nay, nay, no tears!
They yearn for endless rest;
Perhaps large stars will burn above
Their camp within the West.
poem by Roderic Quinn
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Long, Long Day
Its been a long, long day
I got some run-down shoes
Aint got no place to stay
But any old place will be okay
Its been a long, long day
I sure been on this road
Done nearly fourteen years
Cant say my names well known
You dont see my face in rolling stone
But I sure been on this road
Slow motion
Half a dollar bill
Jukebox in the corner
Shooting to kill
And its been a...
Its been a long, long day
I sure could use a friend
Dont know what else to say
I hate to abuse an old cliche
But its been a long, long day
Its been a long, long day
song performed by by Paul Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Like It Or Not
Ah, dont you know, Ive been on my own
But Im coming home.
And Id like you to be there,
I feel a little cold in the air,
And youre not anywhere.
Youre just another face, I used to know.
But there is still a chance to hold on to our love,
cos I gave you everything, everything I had.
Ooh, like it or not
You have done it this time
And like it or not, Ive had enough.
Ooh, like it or not
Theres a lot I could say
cos Ive got a lot on my mind.
It wont be very long
Youre just another face
That I once used to know
And I gave you everything,
But what have I got to show? oh oh
Oh, like it or not
You are out on the street
And like it or not
Thats where you will stay.
Oh, like it or not
Theres another thing darling,
Well I just could not stand another day
cos if you want to know,
That there is still a chance to hold on to our love
cos I gave you everything
Everything I had - everything I had.
Its been a long, been a long long time
Since I held anybody, since I loved anyone.
Oh its been a long, been a long long long time
But if Im right or if Im wrong, does it matter anyway?
Its been a long long long long time
Since I held anybody, since I loved anyone.
Ooh its been a long long long long time
But if Im right or if Im wrong, does it matter anyway?
Ooh its been a long long long long time
Since I held anybody, since I loved anyone.
Oh its been a long, been a long long long time
Im right, if Im wrong, does it matter anyway?
Its been a long long, long long long time
Since I held anybody, since I held anyone.
song performed by by Genesis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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An Old Fisher In The Green
A man, this man, alone in the green,
a little, tiny sand, a speck in the sea.
He used to be a torrent, a veritable blizzard,
ready to weather the storms, this strong fisher.
Then these little fish, to him flocked,
and his heart gave in, collapsed in him, and gave him quite a start.
He took the fish and laid it out, gave it his breath,
and as it looked, its eyes glowed hot, and took from him the rest.
Then it became a fisherman, but one that knew its gift,
it indeed was a fisherman who helped its once-known kin,
what a wondrous man this fish did make, reveling in this skin,
it indeed was a better fisherman who helped its once-known kin.
And so this old fisherman, living on his last breath,
lived only to help the fish he helped, until his last, his death.
His last was given to a fish he deemed demure, a wriggling sickly thing,
he gave it his last, he did, he did, though it remained a fish.
He gave his all, he did, he did, till this fish became enlarged,
yet still not a man did it make, but instead became in charge,
a shark it made, it did, it did, and it hounded out,
till once again, it did, it hid, became the rounder out.
The fishermen were thrown on their guards, this shark was so enlarged,
till all was dust upon the sea, and the old man was set free.
The vision just though may it be,
became but dust upon the sea
till all was dust to dust upon the sea,
and the old man, weak, was at last set free.
poem by Kevin Maroney
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pride Of Man
Turn around go back down go back the way you came
Cant you see the flash of fire ten times brighter than the day
And behold the mighty city broken in the dust again
Oh God the pride of man broken in the dust again
Turn around go back down go back the way you came
Babylon is laid to waste egypts buried in her shame
Their mighty men are beaten down the kings are fallen in the ways
Oh God the pride of man broken in the dust again
Turn around go back down go back the way you came
Terror is on everyside though the leaders are dismayed
Those who put their faith in fire in fire their faith shall be repaid
Oh God the pride of man broken in the dust again
Turn around go back down go back the way you came
Shout a warning to the nations that the sword of God is raised
On babylon that mighty city rich in treasure wide in fame
It shall cause thy towers to fall and make it be a pyre of flame
Oh God the pride of man broken in the dust again
Thou that dwell on many water rich in treasure wide in fame
Bow unto a God of gold thy pride of might shall be thy shame
Oh God the pride of man broken in the dust again
And only God can lead the people back into the faith again
Thy holy mountain be restored thy mercy on thy people lord
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Inward Burning Fire
It's a dark path now - I don't know where it leads.
I only know you're not on it.
Insufficient light comes from the flame in my heart.
The fire you started.
This flame rages seeking fuel to burn and survive.
Give me some coal dust from your hair.
Just some green driftwood shavings from your eyes.
Your oaken wood hands warming mine - they're so cold now.
Better yet, an answering warmth
from the fire burning in your heart for mine.
Nothing serves to heal a dying flame as that meeting would.
But that's my fire seeking what will not be found on this path.
So, the flame turns inward to die out.
I hide the smoke.
It was always enough for you alone to know of this kindling within.
In the flame's death it must be secret still.
The fire consumes internally,
seeking out each memory hidden away.
Consuming every thought I ever had of you.
No one knows the fire's rage
until it turns to them and touches.
It will burn on inward
until it has devoured every memory, every feeling
with sustenance left in it.
It's a painful death,
but once the fire exists
it can only consume until it dies.
I know this science. I accept.
I accepted long ago.
The fire is so warm when first kindled.
Soon, I hope and fear,
only ash will be left.
The pain will be over.
I know I'll be cold but I'll rest.
As for now, while it's still burning,
I will make one vow.
I will save one tiny ember.
I will try to keep it warm and safe.
Just in case the path turns - and there you are.
And if a spark still remains within you too
this dear and dreaded fire can rise again.
Though more likely I know -
my little ember will serve only to remind me what warmth was
and burn my fingers.
poem by Meli Secret
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Brimstone... ' (or A Cryptic-Cremation)
Ashes to Ashes
Dust to Dust
Flesh and Blood
Wood and Mud
Sun and Moon
Craters and Crust
Flames to Ashes
Smoke to Dust
Ape and Man
Heart and Brain
Glass and Sand
Abel and Cain
Spend this Space
On this Earth
Cutting Down
Another’s Worth
So Much Hate
On World and Planet
Trying to Paint
And Stain Pearls and Granite
‘Til, Ashes to Ashes
Dust to Dust
Stop Thinking, ’ Iron Them ’
Start Thinking, ‘ Wash Us ’
Fire On Mountain
Flows Volcanic Ash
Fire and Sand
Equals House of Glass
Dirt On Fire
Smother ‘Fore Long
And Fire and Rock
Equals Brimstone
poem by MoonBee Canady
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Joan Of Arc
Now the flames they followed joan of arc
As she came riding through the dark;
No moon to keep her armour bright,
No man to get her through this very smoky night.
She said, Im tired of the war,
I want the kind of work I had before,
A wedding dress or something white
To wear upon my swollen appetite.
Well, Im glad to hear you talk this way,
You know Ive watched you riding every day
And something in me yearns to win
Such a cold and lonesome heroine.
And who are you? she sternly spoke
To the one beneath the smoke.
Why, Im fire, he replied,
And I love your solitude, I love your pride.
Then fire, make your body cold,
Im going to give you mine to hold,
Saying this she climbed inside
To be his one, to be his only bride.
And deep into his fiery heart
He took the dust of joan of arc,
And high above the wedding guests
He hung the ashes of her wedding dress.
It was deep into his fiery heart
He took the dust of joan of arc,
And then she clearly understood
If he was fire, oh then she must be wood.
I saw her wince, I saw her cry,
I saw the glory in her eye.
Myself I long for love and light,
But must it come so cruel, and oh so bright?
song performed by by Leonard Cohen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Surge
At Granite Island’s seaward side
We sat, and watched the surging tide,
The rapid rip, the capping crest,
The stinging spray, the ragged nest;
The long slow wheel of the sea bird, moaning,
The deep-felt urge of the white sea, foaming.
You laid your head on me, and cried:
'How long, how long? ' And I replied:
'This day is ours, and for the rest….
Ah well, ' I sighed, and sought your breast;
You turned, long-lost at the deep shades forming
While I caught tears at the tip of day, dawning.
12 October 1980
poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Keys of Morning
While at her bedroom window once,
Learning her task for school,
Little Louisa lonely sat
In the morning clear and cool,
She slanted her small bead-brown eyes
Across the empty street,
And saw Death softly watching her
In the sunshine pale and sweet.
His was a long lean sallow face;
He sat with half-shut eyes,
Like a old sailor in a ship
Becalmed 'neath tropic skies.
Beside him in the dust he had set
His staff and shady hat;
These, peeping small, Louisa saw
Quite clearly where she sat -
The thinness of his coal-black locks,
His hands so long and lean
They scarcely seemed to grasp at all
The keys that hung between:
Both were of gold, but one was small,
And with this last did he
Wag in the air, as if to say,
"Come hither, child, to me!"
Louisa laid her lesson book
On the cold window-sill;
And in the sleepy sunshine house
Went softly down, until
She stood in the half-opened door,
And peeped. But strange to say
Where Death just now had sunning sat
Only a shadow lay:
Just the tall chimney's round-topped cowl,
And the small sun behind,
Had with its shadow in the dust
Called sleepy Death to mind.
But most she thought how strange it was
Two keys that he should bear,
And that, when beckoning, he should wag
The littlest in the air.
poem by Walter de la Mare
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A dark secrete
I have a big dark secret, stored deep inside of me
should i tell? should i not? what should it be?
for every day that comes, this big dark secret grows
and the fear that i live in takes ahold
it will not go, this big dark secret
it must be told, this big dark secret
so why have i waited for so long?
life will never get better if i just play along
because this big dark secret destroys my life
and it must be told, no matter what the price
poem by Kat Temple
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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How Many, How Long
How many time wasted, how many
how many promises you said, to me
how many love I sacrificed, how many
how many scar scratched, my heart
I can't forget, I can't get out
pain feeling, fool longing
vague memory trapped in my heart
but no more love left
How long I've been waiting, how long
how long my heart tormented, your behavior
how long I live in vain, how long
how long my tears flow, like river
now it's over, now it's all done
storm in my soul, chained heart
don't keep me if you don't love me
let our promise becomes dust and ash
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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