Jenifer's Love
Small is my secret-let it pass-
Small in your life the share I had,
Who sat beside you in the class,
Awed by the bright superior lad:
Whom yet with hot and eager face
I prompted when he missed his place.
For you the call came swift and soon:
But sometimes in your holidays
You meet me trudging home at noon
To dinner through the dusty ways,
And recognized, and with a nod
Passed on, but never guessed-thank God!
Truly our ways were separate.
I bent myself to hoe and drill,
Yea, with an honest man to mate,
Fulfilling God Almighty's will;
And bore him children. But my prayers
Were yours-and, only after, theirs.
While you-still loftier, more remote,
You sprang from stair to stair of fame,
And you've a riband on your coat,
And you've a title to your name;
But have you yet a star to shine
Above your bed, as I o'er mine?
poem by Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch
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Separate Lives
Eric woolfson - lead vocal
Its been a long road
Weve walked the last mile
We reach the same conclusion
And we stop for a while
Together we know
The way we must go
Were leaving an illusion
Thats for us to share
Only for us to share
We live our separate lives
And go our different ways
Cause we dont see eye to eye
And we cant stand face to face
We live our separate lives
While counting all the days
Till the two of us arrive
In another time and place
We share the same thoughts
We read the same lines
We meet on sad occasions
And in happier times
A spoken goodbye
And both of us try
To walk away in silence
Thats for us to share,
Only for us to share
We live our separate lives
And go our different ways
Cause we dont see eye to eye
And we cant stand face to face
We live our separate lives
While counting all the days
Till the two of us arrive
In another time and place
And always goodbye
But heaven knows why
I cant erase the memory
Thats for us to share
Only for us to share
Only for us to share
We live our separate lives
And go our different ways
Cause we dont see eye to eye
And we cant stand face to face
We live our separate lives
While counting all the days
Till the two of us arrive
In another time and place
song performed by by Alan Parsons Project
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You May Feel Superior To Most Others
You may feel superior to most others but to the scythe of the Reaper you too must fall
Your ego is overinflated but in your ways you are quite small
So full of your own self importance a small minded man in a small town
Where even the highest achiever can only daydream of renown
It is a forte of the ordinary to think in a small minded way
'Tis not hard to get to know people you know them by what they do say
Racism, rank and class distinction are siblings it does seem to me
But those who are true to the higher self do rise above the ordinary
'Tis sad to think in the twenty first century that discrimination is rife
And the homeless and poor have to struggle for to cling to their gift of life
Far too many without food or shelter and too few of their plight aware
So blessed are they with compassion for others they genuinely care
You may feel superior to others but in your ways you are so small
I salute the fair minded people those who belive in a fair go for all.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Home For The Holidays
Oh, theres no place like
Home for the holidays,
cause no matter how far away you roam
When you pine for the sunshine
Of a friendly face
For the holidays, you cant beat
Home, sweet home
I met a man who lives in tennessee
And he was headin for pennsylvania
And some home made pumpkin pie
From pennsylvania folks a travelin down
To dixies sunny shore
From atlantic to pacific, gee
The traffic is terrific
Oh theres no place like home
For the holidays, cause no matter
How far away you roam
If you want
To be happy in a million ways
For the holidays, you cant beat
Home, sweet home
song performed by by Carpenters
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Taking The Stairs
we lift a body
using the legs
and stair upon stair
we breathe
we do not even ask
why are we bent
on going upward?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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One Way Conversation
One by one
The children laugh and stair
At the boy on the road where nobody goes and nobody cares
He doesnt look like the rest of them
Cause he wont dress like the rest of them
Nobody cares about the boy on Northman Street
In between the light of day
He wants more than anything
In between the light of day
To find his way out of here
(cant figure out)
(cant figure out)
No one cares about his stories they call them lies
Dreams he'll find his way
Dreams of being on stage
Nobody cares he's finding his was up Nothing Street
In between the light of day
He wants more than anything
In between the light of day
To find his way out of here
In between the light of day
He thinks he's going to make it
In between the light of day
If he could only take it
This is the time
This is the place
We all go our seperate ways
No turning back
This is the time
This is the place
We all go our seperate ways
No turning back
No turning back
No turning
Your going to be a star someday
Your going to be a star someday
You tell me
Someday
You tell me
song performed by by Taking Back Sunday
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In Your Own Ways
You are smart in your own ways
you are lovely in your own ways
you are beautiful in your own ways
You smile in your own ways
So crazy in your own ways
The madness of your own ways
such mysterious in your own ways
Those eyes of your own ways
You inspire me in your own ways
You talk in you own ways
you love me in your own ways
You suprise me in your own ways
Your kindness of its own kind
Your love of its own loveliness
your touch of its own comfort
And your kisses of its own sweetness
There is nothing so much worth to
treasure in my own ways than the
sweet memories of your own ways
Your life in your own ways
changes mine in its own way
God must have taken His own time
for sush a creation of its own kind
With everything in its own way
I must live your way.
poem by Moffat Mbuzi
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The Old House
In through the porch and up the silent stair;
Little is changed, I know so well the ways;--
Here, the dead came to meet me; it was there
The dream was dreamed in unforgotten days.
But who is this that hurries on before,
A flitting shade the brooding shades among?--
She turned,--I saw her face,--O God, it wore
The face I used to wear when I was young!
I thought my spirit and my heart were tamed
To deadness; dead the pangs that agonise.
The old grief springs to choke me,--I am shamed
Before that little ghost with eager eyes.
O turn away, let her not see, not know!
How should she bear it, how should understand?
O hasten down the stairway, haste and go,
And leave her dreaming in the silent land.
Motherhood
Mary,the Christ long slain,passed silently,
Following the children joyous astir
Under the cedrus and the olive tree,
Pausing to let their laughter float to her--
Each voice an echo of a voice more dear,
She saw a little Christ in every face.
Then came another woman gliding near
To watch the tender life which filled the place.
And Mary sought the woman's hand and spoke:
' I know thee not, yet know thy memory tossed
With all a thousand dreams their eyes evoke
Who bring to thee a child beloved and lost.
' I ,too, have rocked my Little One.
And He was fair !
Oh, fairer than the fairest sun
And , like its rays through amber spun,
His sun-bright hair.
Still I can see it shine and shine.'
Even so, the woman said, 'was mine.'
' His ways were ever darling ways'-
And Mary smiled -
So soft, so clinging ! Glad relays
Of love were all His precious days.
My Little Child !
My vanished star ! My music fled ! '
' Even so was mine,' the woman said.
And Mary whispered : Tell me, thou
Of thine.' And she :
' Oh, mine was rosy as a bough
Blooming with roses, sent, somehow,
To bloom for me !
His balmy fingers left a thrill
Deep in my breast that warms me still. '
Then she gazed down some wilder,darker hour,
And said -when Mary questioned, not knowing :
Who art thou, mother of so sweet a flower?'--
' I am the mother of Iscariot.'
poem by Eleanor Agnes Lee
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Shine! Shine my star! (Russian romance)
Shine and shine my loving star!
My shining star, my greeting star.
You are the one and cherished only one,
I'll never have another one.
And when the bright night comes down to the ground
So many stars are in the sky
But you're the one, my star, my beauty star,
You shine in gratifying rays.
The star of hope, the star of paradise,
The star of love and magic days.
You'll always be unsetting star of mine,
My soul will long for you and chase.
And all my life lights up with strength of yours,
Your rays are bright and give me light.
And if I die you shine above the grave
Just shine and shine my loving star!
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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Separate Ways
I wont apologize
The light shone from in your eyes
It isnt gone,
It will soon come back again.
Though we go our separate ways
Lookin for better days
Sharin our little boy,
Who grew from joy back then.
And its all because of that love we knew
That makes the world go round.
Separate ways, separate ways.
Separate ways, separate ways.
Me for me, you for you
Happiness is never through
Its only a change of plan
And that is nothing new.
As we go our separate ways.
Lookin for better days
Sharin our little boy,
Who grew from joy back then.
And its all because of that love we knew
That makes the world go round.
And its all because of the love we knew
It makes the world go round.
Separate ways, separate ways.
Separate ways, separate ways.
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Small Things Bother Me
He wore dark glasses I could not see his eyes
And the mirror to his soul he did disguise
He hid from the World his personality
Without the eyes a face you only see.
Perhaps his eyes from the bright sun he shade
The main reason why dark glasses are made
And though he lives nearby him I shall never get to know
As he wears dark glasses rain or sun shine or snow.
Any acknowledgement of me he never seems to show
And we pass each other by without saying hello
Through his dark glasses into my soul he peer
And he's still a stranger though to me he lives near.
Perhaps I'm small in ways and small things get to me
But it bothers me when others eyes I cannot see
Whether their eyes be blue, brown, green or grey who can say
As the mirror to their soul behind dark glasses hidden away.
I see him often though not every day
And his eyes behind dark glasses always hidden away
The mirror of his soul is well hidden from me,
Perhaps I'm small and small things bother me.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Nothing To Say
Remember walking with you by my side
You were my papa and I was your pride
Now Ive got children and Im going grey
No time for talking I got nothin to say
Those sunday dinners that we had at home
Now Ive got a house and Ive got friends of my own
We cant do tomorrow what we did yesterday
Its best that were going our separate ways, ok
How is your rheumatism (nothing to say)
How are your chillblains (nothing to say)
Hows aunty mabel (nothing to say)
So far papa, I got nothin to say, ok
Those happy days we spent together
We thought our world would never change
How the days go by
And things will never be the same
You keep pretending that everythings fine
So you make small talk to help pass the time
But all the words that you spit from your face
Add up to nothin you got nothin to say
How are those noisy neighbors next door
Ill have to go soon cos Im getting bored
I gotta be home early to see a good play
So far papa, I got nothin to say
How is your life insurance (nothing to say)
How is your trade union (nothing to say)
How is your independence (nothing to say)
So for papa, I got nothin to say
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hunter
With one light on in one room
I know you're up when I get home
With one small step upon the stair
I know your look when I get there
If you were a king up there on your throne
would you be wise enough to let me go
for this queen you think you own
Wants to be a hunter again
wants to see the world alone again
to take a chance on life again
so let me go
The unread book and painful look
the tv's on
song performed by by Dido from No Angel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Five
Feeling lousy is seeing this lady laughing
She does her thing with confidence like she
Knows everything; what to do with this
Matter called
Everything,
She knows her place and claims it as hers,
She tells you, you are never like her doing so well
In fame,
Glory, and
Honor,
She has her circle of friends, a nice reliable computer
And an internet facility
To get her on top
On top of shape, on top of everything,
Yes, this everything,
Which she has control of,
And feeling so lousy, I wish how I can be like her,
This great woman of everything
But then, I wonder, I have my place, where she can never be,
This lowly place, this small space she detests,
This is mine, I am small,
This small place I have
Where she can never be
And I own this,
Enough for me,
I am happy.
And, oh well, I do not like everything,
Too big to handle and
I know
I would be unhappy by then.
I simply like myself being small.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Feeling lousy
Feeling lousy is seeing this lady laughing
She does her thing with confidence like she
Knows everything; what to do with this
Matter called
Everything,
She knows her place and claims it as hers,
She tells you, you are never like her doing so well
In fame,
Glory, and
Honor,
She has her circle of friends, a nice reliable computer
And an internet facility
To get her on top
On top of shape, on top of everything,
Yes, this everything,
Which she has control of,
And feeling so lousy, I wish how I can be like her,
This great woman of everything
But then, I wonder, I have my place, where she can never be,
This lowly place, this small space she detests,
This is mine, I am small,
This small place I have
Where she can never be
And I own this,
Enough for me,
I am happy.
And, oh well, I do not like everything,
Too big to handle and
I know
I would be unhappy by then.
I simply like myself being small.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Flower's Song
Star! Star, why dost thou shine
Each night upon my brow?
Why dost thou make me dream the dreams
That I am dreaming now?
Star! Star, thy home is high --
I am of humble birth;
Thy feet walk shining o'er the sky,
Mine, only on the earth.
Star! Star, why make me dream?
My dreams are all untrue;
And why is sorrow dark for me
And heaven bright for you?
Star! Star, oh, hide thy ray,
And take it off my face;
Within my lowly home I stay,
Thou, in thy lofty place.
Star! Star, and still I dream,
Along thy light afar
I seem to soar until I seem
To be, like you, a star.
poem by Abram Joseph Ryan
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When We Were Young
Looking through a kaleidoscope,
I see your image always there.
The dream that eluded me
ever since we were young.
Both of us have grown up,
gone our separate ways.
You have your family
and I have mine
and never the twain shall meet,
However in stolen moments
that reflect in my life
I see us when we were young
holding each others hand
making small promises
that neither of us could keep.
Life’s journey took us far and wide
disappearing from each other’s lives.
The promises we made
when we were young
have faded through the years
and lay forgotten now
where broken promises go.
27 November 2009
poem by David Harris
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Listen Children
listen children
keep this in the place
you have for keeping
always
keep it all ways
we have never hated black
listen
we have been ashamed
hopeless tired mad
but always
all ways
we loved us
we have always loved each other
children all ways
pass it on
poem by Lucille Clifton
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The place I call home
I'm leaving now.
I'm going home.
I'm leaving now.
To the place I call home.
I won't come back.
I'll be at home.
I'll be happy there.
The place I call home.
Where the birds sing.
And the flowers dance.
Where the wind whispers.
In the place I call home.
The children play.
The stars sparkle.
The dogs bark.
In the place I call home.
I'm going now.
To my home.
Where I'll live freely
In the place I call home
poem by MyLittle Secret
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Dan's Wife
Up in early morning light,
Sweeping, dusting, 'setting right,'
Oiling all the household springs,
Sewing buttons, tying strings,
Telling Bridget what to do,
Mending rips in Johnny's shoe,
Running up and down the stair,
Tying baby in her chair,
Cutting meat and spreading bread,
Dishing out so much per head,
Eating as she can by chance,
Giving husband kindly glance;
Toiling, working, busy life,--
Smart woman,
Dan's wife.
Dan comes home at fall of night,
Home so cheerful, neat, and bright;
Children meet him at the door,
Pull him in and looked him o'er;
Wife asks how the work has gone.
'Busy times with us at home!'
Supper done, Dan reads with ease,--
Happy Dan, but one to please!
Children must be put to bed--
All the little prayers are said;
Little shoes are placed in rows,
Bedclothes tucked o'er little toes;
Busy, noisy, wearing life,--
Tired woman,
Dan's wife.
Dan reads on and falls asleep--
See the woman softly creep;
Baby rests at last, poor dear,
Not a word her heart to cheer;
Mending-basket full to top,
Stockings, shirt, and little frock;
Tired eyes and weary brain,
Side with darting, ugly pain;
'Never mind, 'will pass away,'
She must work, but never play;
Closed piano, unused books,
Done the walks to easy nooks,
Brightness faded out of life,--
Saddened woman,
Dan's wife.
Upstairs, tossing to and fro,
Fever holds the woman low;
Children wander free to play
When and where they will today;
Bridget loiters--dinner's cold,
Dan looks anxious, cross, and old;
Household screws are out of place,
Lacking one dear, patient face;
Steady hands, so weak but true,
Hands that knew just what to do,
Never knowing rest or play,
Folded now--and laid away;
Work of six in one short life,--
Shattered woman,
Dan's wife.
poem by Anonymous Americas
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