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' dust at the side of the road '
the story writes itself
in however how many pages it may take
it can feel your pulse-rate rise
and enters through your skin
it is a very fine dust
slides easy off the page
then grain by grain by grain
it burrows deeper in
poem by STEPHEN BRIAN Brady
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Dawn Of A New Day
The thoughts from yesterday - forgotten
I like the way this new skin feels
Bring me splinters of tomorrow
Collect the parts where I win
Against the grain, against the odds
I'll rise and I won't trip again
The dawn of a new day never looked
As good as this
Concrete breath and dust filled tears
A one-way ride to inner peace
I never thought, I'd join the others
Those who use the dice to solve
Against the grain, against the odds
I'll rise and I won't trip again (x2)
The dawn of a new day never looked
As good as this
Against the grain, against the odds
I'll rise and I won't trip again
Against the grain, against the odds
Against the grain, against the odds(x2)
I'll rise and I won't trip again
Against the grain, against the odds(x3)
song performed by by In Flames
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Grain Of Sand
I feel like Im walking on a mine
Im gonna leave it all behind
I feel like Im gaining my soul
While Im losing my mind
And I feel like I understand
And I feel like a grain of sand
Im gonna walk through that door
Im gonna see what its there for
cause all I ever want is your skin or your soul baby
But you couldnt give me either one of those
And I feel like I understand
And I feel like a grain of sand
And I feel like a grain of sand
You use to hold me like a flower
We used to talk for seven hours
I see the bigger picture now
And I feel like I understand
And I feel like a grain of sand
And I feel like a grain of sand
song performed by by Vonda Shepard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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After The Slow Slipping Of Self
grab your emptiness
like a handful of sand
in your hand
and let it spill there
grain after grain
after grain
until all is gone
away
slipping from
your fingers
then feel that
your hands
are still yours
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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That Part Of A Whole
it is a tiny part
as tiny as a grain of sand
you hardly give it
attention
you keep on saying
what is in this grain of sand
that philosophers
say contain this universe
something so tiny
yet to contain everything
and so you hold the grain of sand
against the light
and revolve it around your fingers
little finger planets
to the sun grain of sand
you cannot believe what you
felt and saw
and so you throw away that grain
of sand to the air
eating it like a big mouthed monsters
you are lost
your world dissolves
like ice
you turn to air
and there you are
gone.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cycles in Season
CYCLES IN SEASON
The grain, who'd reap life's golden grain
knows dust to dust's returned again,
though mortal flesh rots none impound
pure spirit risen, strength fresh found.
New found, to greet soul's season new,
scope springs again, hopes shall renew,
conceit that speeds humanity
grounds down needs through greed, vanity.
Profanity will seek full pound
of flesh before the clock’s unwound,
while wounded pride, vile greed for gain,
turns self-destructive 'gainst the grain.
Yet grain finds fertile soil. Long lain
awaiting stained-glass window pane
which cycle starts charts rich rebound
from dark profound to light recrowned.
18 June 1991 revised 14 December 2008
robi03_0390_robi03_0000 XXX_EJZ
previous title Circles in Season for previous version see below
Circles in Season
The grain, who reaps the golden grain
knows dust to dust’s returned again, -
though flesh may rot, one can’t impound
the spirit risen, strength new-found.
New found, to greet a season new,
strength springs again, hopes can renew,
but hopes that speed humanity
are ground down by its vanity.
Its vanity will seek full pound
of flesh before the clock’s unwound,
and wounded pride with greed for gain
agrees to go against the grain...
18 June 1991
© Jonathan Robin
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Allergies
Maladies
Melodies
Allergies to dust and grain
Maladies
Remedies
Still these allergies remain
My hand cant touch a guitar string
My fingers just burn and ache
My head intercedes with my bodily needs
And my body wont give it a break
My heart can stand a disaster
My heart can take a disgrace
But my heart is allergic
To the women I love
And its changing the shape of my face
Allergies
Allergies
Somethings living on my skin
Doctor please
Doctor please
Open up its me again
I go to a famous physician
I sleep in the local hotel
From what I can see of the people like me
We get better
But we never get well
So I ask myself this question
Its a question I often repeat
Where do allergies go
When its after a show
And they want to get something to eat?
Allergies
Allergies
Somethings living on my skin
Doctor please
Doctor please
Open up its me again
Maladies
Melodies
Allergies to dust and grain
Maladies
Remedies
Still these allergies remain
song performed by by Paul Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sandwriting
Sandwriting
Leave your name and
Let the wind
And high tide
Take it away
Each white gold grain
That made up your name
Take it away
Sandwriting
Write your lover's monogram
Upon the cool damp
White gold grain
say this is who I am
Yes this is all you are my friend
Some shapes upon the sand
Of white gold grain
Washed and blown away
With the memory of your name
Take it away
Go tell the story
To the wind and sea
What ever became of you and me
Each letter of love
That had its golden day
A love song
Without goodbye
Take it away
Sandwriting
song performed by by Chris Rea
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Grain Of Sand
From every grain of sand
That falls from my hand
Through my fingers to the ground
To utter but not a sound,
For like a Human life
That pasted before my eyes
To be here and then be gone
Forgotten like yesterdays dawn.
For like a grain of sand
The Boy became a Man
Who cries tears of His fate,
For He knows for what Man did,
Is from what Man had made.
Though as being caught up in the air
And being blown to who knows where
For where we go, no man knows
And where we die, is where we lie.
We are all here a lifetime
As though it seems a long time
It is though, but a short time,
To live and love, then die.
Like a grain of sand
That falls upon the beach
To be caught up in the rain or air
And to go where no one can reach,
A Girl becomes a Woman
The Boy becomes a Man
And everyone makes their own fall,
Like a simple, grain of sand.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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Goin Back To Alabama
(with kenny rogers)
Goin back to alabama...
Now that Ive learned a thing or two
Life for me had been so easy
But Ive got some livin yet to do
cause a man who walks by the side of the road
Can turn himself around
He can pick himself up
And dust himself off
And start all over again
My friend...
Some days I didnt wanna wake up in the mornin
My family and friends were all down on me
I tried to tell em where I was goin
But they never saw the man I saw in me
Some folks call me a dreamer
Other folks laughed and called me a fool
All I ever wanted to be was a winner
cause I know a winner can never lose
cause a man who walks by the side of the road
Can turn himself around
He can pick himself up
And dust himself off
And start all over again
cause a man who walks by the side of the road
Can turn himself around
He can pick himself up
And dust himself off
And start all over again
My friend...
Yes a man who walks by the side of the road
Can turn himself around
He can pick himself up
(pick himself up)
And dust himself off
(dust himself off)
(and)
Start all over again
Im a man
Im a man
(Im a man)
You know a man who walks by the side of the road
Can turn himself around
He can pick himself up
And dust himself off
And start all over again
You know a man who walks by the side of the road
Can turn himself around
He can pick himself up
And dust himself off
And start all over again...
song performed by by Michael Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A wise woman puts a grain of sugar into everything she says to a man, and takes a grain of salt with everything he says to her.
quote by Helen Rowland
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A grain of gold will gild a great surface, but not so much as a grain of wisdom. - from Live Without Principle
quote by Henry David Thoreau
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Grain by grain the hen fills her belly.
English proverbs
Submitted by Micheleflowerbomb
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From Among The Sands
from among the sands of the shore
and you must accept there are trillions and trillions of them there
you have the guts to tell all of them
that you are not like them
that you are this diamond
admired by emerald and sapphire
and that gold is inferior
the mighty sun shines everyday above the trillions of your kind &
it is not bothered at all
it does not know you &
finds nothing significant about your claim for self-claim for glamor & glitter
need i tell you Mr. grain of sand
that a grain of sand is and will always be a good-for-nothing grain of sand?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Bright Buckets
Bright buckets bulge with sand and shells today,
brimmed by children busily at play,
intent on building, digging time away
upon the beach, sand castles they inlay
with scalloped decorations castaway
by last tide’s currents, scattered anyway
along the tattered margin of the bay.
A tiny grain of sand was yesterday
caught up within the complex interplay
of forces ‘yond our ken which ever weigh
upon the stream of consciousness to sway
more than a moment’s notice in their way
regardless of the influences they
appear to have upon our day to day.
Our meditations led far, far away
to rock formations which Time’s Go games play
until the grain by wind or water spray
from bedrock blown, is worn down, dust or clay,
key silent witness to life’s chaos fray.
What change of scene, and what has been, what may
yet be that grain stands witness to Time’s stay...?
poem by Jonathan Robin
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We Are All Lost In Our Own Small Lives
WE ARE ALL LOST IN OUR OWN SMALL LIVES
We are all lost in our own small lives
Which seem to be the world to us
But which are for the Universe
A grain of a grain of a grain of sand
So so so so nothing at all –
We are all here at the center
So serious about what we are
And we ultimately are
What every unnamed atom will never see
Oh small is not the word
And nothing either
We puffed puffed puffed up fools
Mostly me.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Grain In Open
Millions may bless you for gesture
I am confident and very sure
Their bellies are hungry and starve
We can see it on stomach with deep inside curve
It may look illogical
Yet it is question for survival
Absolutely in our own hand
With little change in approach and trend
How much food grain is allowed to rot?
Why not preventive measures be taken on the spot?
I hear reports that grain stock is dumped in the sea
Only to maintain artificial price but thrown away free
Thousands perish for the want of food
For humanity sake this is shameful and not good
Let hungry get some grain even if at some cost!
Save hungry people before they are dead and lost
Grain is stored in open and laid to waste
Insects make it unhygienic and lead to bad taste
Not fit for anything but offered for human consumption
Everything is lost only because of faulty assumption
If little care is taken for preservation
Will power not show but for demonstration
This of those poor countries diverting funds
Not able to cope yet take care of people on the ground
Can any one say this is impossible?
Our current trend is illogical and reversible?
I suggest for building public opinion
Force the governments to help with total disregard to religion
Let some price for grain be quoted
But grain should not be off load in sea and floated
Let people consume and survive on this earth
Why do we want to push them to meet the avoidable death?
If one man can be convinced then it can turn lot many
There may be involvement or consideration for money
But let us rise above pretty consideration and not allow grain to rot
I am sure of the view that hunger can be tackled successfully and fought
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Harvest Song
I am a reaper whose muscles set at sundown. All my oats are cradled.
But I am too chilled, and too fatigued to bind them.
And I hunger.
I crack a grain between my teeth. I do not taste it.
I have been in the fields all day. My throat is dry.
I hunger.
My eyes are caked with dust of oatfields at harvest-time.
I am a blind man who stares across the hills, seeking stack'd fields of other harvesters.
It would be good to see them . . crook'd, split, and iron-ring'd handles of the scythes. It would be good to see them, dust-caked and blind. I hunger.
(Dusk is a strange fear'd sheath their blades are dull'd in.)
My throat is dry. And should I call, a cracked grain like the oats...eoho--
I fear to call. What should they hear me, and offer me their grain, oats, or wheat, or corn? I have been in the fields all day. I fear I could not taste it. I fear knowledge of my hunger.
My ears are caked with dust of oatfields at harvest-time.
I am a deaf man who strains to hear the calls of other harvesters whose throats are also dry.
It would be good to hear their songs . . reapers of the sweet-stalk'd cane, cutters of the corn...even though their throats cracked and the strangeness of their voices deafened me.
I hunger. My throat is dry. Now that the sun has set and I am chilled, I fear to call. (Eoho, my brothers!)
I am a reaper. (Eoho!) All my oats are cradled.
But I am too fatigued to bind them. And I hunger.
I crack a grain. It has no taste to it.
My throat is dry...
O my brothers, I beat my palms, still soft, against the stubble of my harvesting. (You beat your soft palms, too.) My pain is sweet. Sweeter than the oats or wheat or corn. It will not bring me knowledge of my hunger.
poem by Jean Toomer
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Sonnet: Parables of Jesus: Grain of Wheat
Unless a grain of wheat is sown in soil,
And dies, decays, transforms, gets life anew,
And sprouts into a sapling through one's toil,
It cannot grow to bear fruits that are due!
The grain of wheat remains as such, if not:
Like selfish men who will not do God's will;
Serve God usefully, they simply cannot,
Nor granary at harvest-time, they fill.
Like grain of wheat, men have God's will to do;
Like Jesus, they must carry cross till death;
Like Saviour Christ, they will resurrect too,
And fulfill purpose for which God gave birth!
But Christ died on the cross for mankind's sins,
And love of man, and Father's obeisance!
poem by John Celes
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