Reminiscence
Though I am native to this frozen zone
That half the twelvemonth torpid lies, or dead;
Though the cold azure arching overhead
And the Atlantic's never-ending moan
Are mine by heritage, I must have known
Life otherwhere in epochs long since fled;
For in my veins some Orient blood is red,
And through my thought are lotus blossoms blown.
I do remember . . . it was just at dusk,
Near a walled garden at the river's turn
(A thousand summers seem but yesterday!),
A Nubian girl, more sweet than Khoorja musk,
Came to the water-tank to fill her urn,
And, with the urn, she bore my heart away!
poem by Thomas Bailey Aldrich
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Sonnets
ENAMOURED ARCHITECT OF AIRY RHYME
ENAMOURED architect of airy rhyme,
Build as thou wilt; heed not what each man says:
Good souls, but innocent of dreamers’ ways,
Will come, and marvel why thou wastest time;
Others, beholding how thy turrets climb
’Twixt theirs and heaven, will hate thee all thy days;
But most beware of those who come to praise.
O Wondersmith, O worker in sublime
And heaven-sent dreams, let art be all in all;
Build as thou wilt, unspoiled by praise or blame,
Build as thou wilt, and as thy light is given:
Then, if at last the airy structure fall,
Dissolve, and vanish—take thyself no shame.
They fail, and they alone, who have not striven.
REMINISCENCE
THOUGH I am native to this frozen zone
That half the twelvemonth torpid lies, or dead;
Though the cold azure arching overhead
And the Atlantic’s never-ending moan
Are mine by heritage, I must have known
Life otherwhere in epochs long since fled;
For in my veins some Orient blood is red,
And through my thought are lotus blossoms blown.
I do remember … it was just at dusk,
Near a walled garden at the river’s turn
(A thousand summers seem but yesterday!),
A Nubian girl, more sweet than Khoorja musk,
Came to the water-tank to fill her urn,
And, with the urn, she bore my heart away!
OUTWARD BOUND
I LEAVE behind me the elm-shadowed square
And carven portals of the silent street,
And wander on with listless, vagrant feet
Through seaward-leading alleys, till the air
Smells of the sea, and straightway then the care
Slips from my heart, and life once more is sweet.
At the lane’s ending lie the white-winged fleet.
O restless Fancy, whither wouldst thou fare?
Here are brave pinions that shall take thee far—
Gaunt hulks of Norway; ships of red Ceylon;
Slim-masted lovers of the blue Azores!
’T is but an instant hence to Zanzibar,
Or to the regions of the Midnight Sun;
Ionian isles are thine, and all the fairy shores!
ANDROMEDA
THE SMOOTH-WORN coin and threadbare classic phrase
Of Grecian myths that did beguile my youth,
Beguile me not as in the olden days:
I think more grief and beauty dwell with truth.
Andromeda, in fetters by the sea,
Star-pale with anguish till young Perseus came,
Less moves me with her suffering than she,
The slim girl figure fettered to dark shame,
That nightly haunts the park, there, like a shade,
Trailing her wretchedness from street to street.
See where she passes—neither wife nor maid;
How all mere fiction crumbles at her feet!
Here is woe’s self, and not the mask of woe:
A legend’s shadow shall not move you so!
THE UNDISCOVERED COUNTRY
FOREVER am I conscious, moving here,
That should I step a little space aside
I pass the boundary of some glorified
Invisible domain—it lies so near!
Yet nothing know we of that dim frontier
Which each must cross, whatever fate betide,
To reach the heavenly cities where abide
(Thus Sorrow whispers) those that were most dear,
Now all transfigured in celestial light!
Shall we indeed behold them, thine and mine,
Whose going hence made black the noonday sun?—
Strange is it that across the narrow night
They fling us not some token, or make sign
That all beyond is not Oblivion.
SLEEP
WHEN to soft sleep we give ourselves away,
And in a dream as in a fairy bark
Drift on and on through the enchanted dark
To purple daybreak—little thought we pay
To that sweet bitter world we know by day.
We are clean quit of it, as is a lark
So high in heaven no human eye can mark
The thin swift pinion cleaving through the gray.
Till we awake ill fate can do no ill,
The resting heart shall not take up again
The heavy load that yet must make it bleed;
For this brief space the loud world’s voice is still,
No faintest echo of it brings us pain.
How will it be when we shall sleep indeed?
poem by Thomas Bailey Aldrich
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Bad Blood
Desperate man, desperate times
Desperate heart
Once she was mine
Bad blood, cold sweat
The more I give, the less I get
She picked clean to the bone
Black ice, danger zone
Bad blood runs through her veins
Shes got bad blood
Shell never change
I held on long as I could
But that girl - bad blood
Perfect crimes, no clues
That girls just bad news
I held on long as I could
Bad girl, bad blood
She cut clean to the bone
Tight jeans, danger zone
Girls got bad blood ...
Glass heart, fools gold
Her blood is stone cold
Held on long as I could
But that girls just no good
She picked clean to the bone
Black ice, danger zone
song performed by by Uriah Heep
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Youth Of 1,000 Summers
He's the youth of a thousand summers
He's the youth of a thousand summers
Like a sweet bird of youth
Like a sweet bird of youth
In my soul. in my soul, in my soul
In my soul. in my soul. in my soul
And he looks so radiant
And he shines like the sun
And he looks so radiant
And he lights up the world
He's the youth of a thousand summers
He's the youth of a thousand summers
Like a sweet bird of youth
Like a sweet bird of youth
In my soul, in my soul, in my soul
In my soul, in my soul, in my soul
Yeah, love it, yeah, love it
In my soul, in my soul, in my soul
In my soul, in my soul, in my soul
He's the king of the mountain
And the clear crystal fountain
He's the saint of the river
He's the ancient of days
He's the youth of a thousand summers
He's the youth of a thousand summers
Like a sweet bird of youth
Like a sweet bird of youth
In my soul, in my soul, in my soul
In my soul, in my soul, in my soul
And he makes you go skipping
And he makes you go dancing
And he gets you in rhythm
And he moves you in song
He's the youth of a thousand summers
He's the youth of a thousand summers
Like a sweet bird of youth
Like a sweet bird of youth
In my soul, in my soul, in my soul
In my soul, in my soul, in my soul
In my soul, in my soul, in my soul
Oh, in my soul, in my soul, in my soul
And a sweet bird of youth
In my soul (repeat)
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fundamental of Liar Chapter CXXXIV: From A to Z
Affecting heart is never ending zone
Becoming the best is never ending ambition
Collecting money is never ending business
Defining happiness is never ending comparison
Expecting future is never ending dream
Feeling lonely is never ending emptiness
Glittering light is never ending fantasy
Hiding the truth is never ending guilt
Imagining peace is never ending hope
Jealousy rage is never ending inferno
Keeping trust is never ending job
Living life is never ending knowledge
Memorizing something is never ending labyrinth
Not having the ability is never ending misery
Obtaining respect is never ending need
Pursuing love is never ending obsession
Questioning human is never ending paradox
Research and study is never ending quest
Smiling sincerely is never ending river
Telling lies is never ending story
Understanding fate is never ending temptation
Various culture is never ending uniqueness
Watching interest is never ending vision
X factor is never ending world
Years for price of wish is never ending xxxholic
Zipping a flat tummy is never ending yearning
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow
Traffic lights shinning in my eyes,
And here I am standing in the rain
Counting every dropp that fell in my palm.
The Cold breeze frozen my body
Like yesterday when you left me in vain
On were I can’t stand from all the pain.
That was yesterday I could still remember.
Yesterday, I was stood under the burning rain.
Were my heart was freezing under the sun
When all the blue and woe has passed my way
And those autumn leaves are my shelter
On the broken tree house of memory
That my heart is getting weak,
And it’s hard for me to breathe.
That was yesterday, I was dazzle in lights of lies.
And today,
The sun grimaces in the early morn
Were the world embrace me from the past
That beauty blooms here inside my heart
Spring’s blossoms comes only a second of time
For today, loves grown deep in the heart of me
Voices tell me I should carry on
To hold the stars up in the sky
And see the world will smile again.
Today, my heart will dance again
For tomorrow,
Love will bloom like flowers in spring
A sweet smile will curve in my lips
Tomorrow, I’ll be strong as a wind
Dance on a game of love,
Swaying on a battle of life.
poem by Cheryl Aldea
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All Souls
I
A THIN moon faints in the sky o'erhead,
And dumb in the churchyard lie the dead.
Walk we not, Sweet, by garden ways,
Where the late rose hangs and the phlox delays,
But forth of the gate and down the road,
Past the church and the yews, to their dim abode.
For it's turn of the year and All Souls' night,
When the dead can hear and the dead have sight.
II
Fear not that sound like wind in the trees:
It is only their call that comes on the breeze;
Fear not the shudder that seems to pass:
It is only the tread of their feet on the grass;
Fear not the drip of the bough as you stoop:
It is only the touch of their hands that grope -
For the year's on the turn, and it's All Souls' night,
When the dead can yearn and the dead can smite.
III
And where should a man bring his sweet to woo
But here, where such hundreds were lovers too?
Where lie the dead lips that thirst to kiss,
The empty hands that their fellows miss,
Where the maid and her lover, from sere to green,
Sleep bed by bed, with the worm between?
For it's turn of the year and All Souls' night,
When the dead can hear and the dead have sight.
IV
And now that they rise and walk in the cold,
Let us warm their blood and give youth to the old.
Let them see us and hear us, and say: 'Ah, thus
In the prime of the year it went with us!'
Till their lips drawn close, and so long unkist,
Forget they are mist that mingles with mist!
For the year's on the turn, and it's All Souls' night,
When the dead can burn and the dead can smite.
V
Till they say, as they hear us - poor dead, poor dead! -
'Just an hour of this, and our age-long bed -
Just a thrill of the old remembered pains
To kindle a flame in our frozen veins,
Just a touch, and a sight, and a floating apart,
As the chill of dawn strikes each phantom heart -
For it's turn of the year and All Souls' night,
When the dead can hear, and the dead have sight.'
VI
And where should the living feel alive
But here in this wan white humming hive,
As the moon wastes down, and the dawn turns cold,
And one by one they creep back to the fold?
And where should a man hold his mate and say:
'One more, one more, ere we go their way'?
For the year's on the turn, and it's All Souls' night,
When the living can learn by the churchyard light.
VII
And how should we break faith who have seen
Those dead lips plight with the mist between,
And how forget, who have seen how soon
They lie thus chambered and cold to the moon?
How scorn, how hate, how strive, we too,
Who must do so soon as those others do?
For it's All Souls' night, and break of the day,
And behold, with the light the dead are away. . . .
poem by Edith Wharton
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Strange Meeting
It seemed that out of the battle I escaped
Down some profound dull tunnel, long since scooped
Through granites which Titanic wars had groined.
Yet also there encumbered sleepers groaned,
Too fast in thought or death to be bestirred.
Then, as I probed them, one sprang up, and stared
With piteous recognition in fixed eyes,
Lifting distressful hands as if to bless.
And by his smile, I knew that sullen hall;
By his dead smile I knew we stood in Hell.
With a thousand fears that vision's face was grained;
Yet no blood reached there from the upper ground,
And no guns thumped, or down the flues made moan.
'Strange, friend,' I said, 'Here is no cause to mourn.'
'None,' said the other, 'Save the undone years,
The hopelessness. Whatever hope is yours,
Was my life also; I went hunting wild
After the wildest beauty in the world,
Which lies not calm in eyes, or braided hair,
But mocks the steady running of the hour,
And if it grieves, grieves richlier than here.
For by my glee might many men have laughed,
And of my weeping something has been left,
Which must die now. I mean the truth untold,
The pity of war, the pity war distilled.
Now men will go content with what we spoiled.
Or, discontent, boil bloody, and be spilled.
They will be swift with swiftness of the tigress,
None will break ranks, though nations trek from progress.
Courage was mine, and I had mystery;
Wisdom was mine, and I had mastery;
To miss the march of this retreating world
Into vain citadels that are not walled.
Then, when much blood had clogged their chariot-wheels
I would go up and wash them from sweet wells,
Even with truths that lie too deep for taint.
I would have poured my spirit without stint
But not through wounds; not on the cess of war.
Foreheads of men have bled where no wounds were.
I am the enemy you killed, my friend.
I knew you in this dark; for so you frowned
Yesterday through me as you jabbed and killed.
I parried; but my hands were loath and cold.
Let us sleep now ...
poem by Wilfred Owen
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The River of Blood
It’s the river of blood
Initiated by the enemies of God
And when advised too or told to stop
They just give you the nod
The nod of ignorance and cruelty
The nod of no life and no feel
As they are told about they’re evilness
They believe that none of it is real
It’s the river of blood
That flows down a dark and red stream
And as I dip my hand in, it feels like sour, bitter cream
It’s the river of blood
The river of cruelty and pain
The river of blood
The river that flows in vain
The river that will never end
The river full of the dead
The river where they remain silently hopeless
The river where the majority of them bled
It’s this river of blood where I inject my power and strength from
It’s this river full of blood where my victory will soon come
The river of blood, the river that will soon contain me
It’s this river where my blood has long sought to be
The river of blood that shall soon end with an atrocious fight
The river of blood, the river that will no longer stay at sight.
poem by Marria Attar
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Little Girl
(words & music: marie fredriksson)
Published by shock the music
Once upon a time there was a little girl
Once she was mine
In my heart the only one
I wonder where you are
I know youre somewhere in me
I can see your smile when I close, close my eyes
Oh little girl
Where did you go, little girl
I miss you so
Oh, I remember when she was mine
I remember when she was mine
Once upon a time there was a little voice
Singing loud and clear
In my heart the only one
Once upon a time there were so many dreams
Once they were mine
Oh little girl, theyre with, oh theyre with you now
Oh little girl
Where did you go, little girl
I miss you so
I remember when she was mine
Oh, I remember when she was mine
Oh girl, little girl
Where did you go, little girl
I miss you so
Oh, I remember when she was mine
Oh little girl
Where did you go, little girl
I miss you so
Oh, I remember when she was mine
My little girl
I remember when she was mine
Oh, I remember when she was mine
song performed by by Roxette
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Charioteer
When logic rules this heart of mine I donothing at all.
When passion rules this mind of mine I think nothing at all.
Beyond the reigns, Beyond the flesh lies the charioteer
Holding strong an eternity long, holding up the rear.
Turning when the time comes to etch circles into dust,
Learning with the sunrise, awaiting the dawn of dusk.
To lay down his head at the end of the day,
It shouldn't be too much to ask.
To lay down half dead be the friend of the day,
With hope for happiness friendships may last.
Always hoping redemption lies outcast just beyond his shoulder,
As The charioteer clears the way for a flood of fears as fears grow older.
To shed a tear for every fear I'd be here a thousand years,
Holding strong an eternity long, holding up the rear.
poem by David Lacey
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Waiting
A YOUNG fair girl among her flowers,
And, as to blossoms born in May,
Her morrows still brought sunnier hours
Than made up sunny yesterday.
She did but wait: 'Hope is so sweet;
We love so well, my love and I;
The hours that come, the hours that fleet,
End all in one glad by and by.'
A pale worn woman, scarcely sad,
But tired, like those who, too long pent,
Forget the joy they have not had
Of the free winds, and droop content.
She did but wait: 'Ah, no, to me
The silent hope is never dead;
What are the days that are to be
But part of the dear days long fled?'
He came: 'The wealth we need is mine;
And now?' 'Alas!' she said, 'in vain.
The love I love is noway thine,
I wait who never comes again.
Oh, for my lover of old days,
We two from all the world apart!
I must go lone on earth's bleak ways,
He is not now save in my heart.'
He wed another. She, alone,
Patient and weary, toiled for bread.
And bygone still was never gone,
The silent hope was never dead.
She did but wait: 'I have the past;
The new days live the old days o'er,
And there abides until the last
The by and by that was before.'
poem by Augusta Davies Webster
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A Never Ending River
The tears run down my face like a river,
a never ending river,
the pain and the blood shed,
a never ending river,
the blood flows down my wrist and i feel nothing,
a never ending river,
there is no more blood shed and no more pain,
a never ending river,
as I die I lie in a never ending river
poem by Katie Lathrop
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Thomas À Kempis
Brother of mine, good monk with cowlëd head,
Walled from that world which thou hast long since fled,
And pacing thy green close beyond the sea,
I send my heart to thee.
Down gust-sweet walks, bordered by lavender,
While eastward, westward, the mad swallows whir,
All afternoon poring thy missal fair,
Serene thou pacest there.
Mixed with the words and fitting like a tune,
Thou hearest distantly the voice of June,—
The little, gossipping noises in the grass,
The bees that come and pass.
Fades the long day; the pool behind the hedge
Burns like a rose within the windy sedge;
The lilies ghostlier grow in the dim air;
The convent windows flare.
Yet still thou lingerest; from pastures steep,
Past the barred gate the shepherd drives his sheep;
A nightingale breaks forth, and for a space
Makes sweeter the sweet place.
Then the gray monks by hooded twos and threes
Move chapelward beneath the flaming trees;
Closing thy book, back by the alleys fair
Thou followest to prayer.
Born to these brawling days, this work-sick age,
Oft long I for thy simpler heritage;
A thought of thee is like a breath of bloom
Blown through a noisy room.
For thou art quick, not dead. I picture thee
Forever in that close beyond the sea;
And find, despite this weather’s headlong stir,
Peace and a comforter.
poem by Lizette Woodworth Reese
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My Life, My Trial
Darkness has many secrets
But daytime shows all
My life is torn to pieces
But I will remain strong
Angels sing above me
But demons drag me to hell
I see my life before me
Like I’m under a type of spell
I await my trial in my cold, dead heart
And whisper these lies that will tear me apart
But when I am free, then you will suffer
My blade will go through your middle
And your blood will cleanse my torture.
This is my Life, My Trial
The plead for innocence is not for a while.
My heart is a cold, dead being
But my time has yet to be seen
So argue for your guilty innocence
While mine is to be guilty of conscience
So bleed from your mouth
And screw with my head
I will not rest until it is you who is dead.
I savor your inner-being
But it is you who will not be seeing
The lies and mockery of the everlasting soul
Will be yours to behold
In the Temples of Hell of which I am
Knowledge and power is mine to command
poem by Shaughnessy Turner
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Cold Summers Day
(a. bell / v. clarke)
(woah, woah)
Dont know what youve got til its gone.
A hint of the scents, then its gone.
Look at the state of you,
Youre all fingers & thumbs. (youre all fingers & thumbs)
So whos your latest flame?
Driving em wild in the fast lane.
Wont say I told you so,
But the boy has no shame. (shame, no shame)
And Im putting the brave face on.
Makes me look totally kind,
The higher the head, the closer you are to heaven.
Gone and blown it all.
How can you say: it doesnt matter much to me.?
A dumb mistake, to much to pay.
A shattered heart in loves debris.
Gone and blown it all.
How can you say: it doesnt matter much to me.?
A dumb mistake, to much to pay.
A shattered heart in loves debris.
Dont know what youve got til its gone.
The thrill of the chase, then its gone.
Only the hurt to prove that it ever went on.
And life is wonderful thing,
When youre humming the words to a love song.
Do what you wanna do, live without the within. (without)
When Im in your arms Im strong.
And were travelling at light speed,
We shine for liberty, life,
And the pursuit of pleasure.
Gone and blown it all.
How can you say: it doesnt matter much to me.?
A dumb mistake, to much to pay.
A shattered heart in loves debris.
Gone and blown it all.
How can you say: it doesnt matter much to me.?
A dumb mistake, to much to pay.
A shattered heart in loves debris.
(woah, woah, ooh...)
(woah, woah, ooh...)
Here I do walk,
Fast from angst of loss.
On a cold summers day. (summers day...woah)
On a cold summers day. (summers day...ooh)
Fast from angst of loss.
On a cold summers day. (woah, woah, ooh...)
I never said thanks...(woah)
I never said thanks...(woah)
It wouldnt work out...(woah)
Gone and blown it all.
How can you say: it doesnt matter much to me.?
A dumb mistake, to much to pay.
A shattered heart in loves debris.
Gone and blown it all.
How can you say: it doesnt matter much to me.?
A dumb mistake, to much to pay.
A shattered heart in loves debris.
Gone and blown it all.
How can you say: it doesnt matter much to me.?
A dumb mistake, to much to pay.
A shattered heart in loves debris.
Gone and blown it all.
How can you say: it doesnt matter much to me.?
A dumb mistake, to much to pay.
A shattered heart in loves debris.
song performed by by Erasure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sugarfoot
Sugarfoots got two hands
Just as long as he can see
One hand in the birdfeed
And a hand in the apple tree
He stands in line, just a little behind
A yellow moon that hangs
Hes all tangled and he broke his sticks on the links
Of his own chain gang
You oughta see this home that he own
Its like a box of jewelry
Hes got his own church bell
And his bed it lays in a gallery
And all the colors they shine like flames
Coming in through the window pane
They end up getting checked over twice
For the reds of someones veins
Its so cold and blown all apart
Its so cold and needing of a heart
He stands alone on the top of his home
Where all the blue birds flown
Sucks in on his cheeks and he cries
As he moans through a saxophone
He reaches high with his hands in the sky
And puts his fingers right into the storm
Always one to stand under the moon
And blow on his own horn
And anyone with anything has already begun to think
That somebody down there knows
Just how he sat down on his knees in the dirt
And buried someones rainbow
Its so cold and blown all apart
Its so cold and needing of a heart
Its so cold and blown all apart
Its so cold and needing of a heart
Well, I know you aint my enemy
The only ones inside of me
Hes killing me getting free
I hear he wants my head with an old ice pick
And fix me up on a stick
And all Ive ever got to be
Is everything I wanna be
And sugarfoot disagrees
He still stands tall underneath that apple tree
Man, hes still watching me
His chain gang is tryin to pull me down
Like the birds and the fireflies
They shoot arrows up into the skies
And they burn all the feathers dry
Well, he only wants to fill his belly up
With rocks till it hurts, then he stops
Well, he dont know what to do with love
If it dont fill his belly to the top
Its so cold and blown all apart
Its so cold and needing of a heart
Its so cold and blown all apart
Its so cold and needing of a heart
song performed by by Wallflowers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sugarfoot
Sugarfoots got two hands
Just as long as he can see
One hand in the birdfeed
And a hand in the apple tree
He stands in line, just a little behind
A yellow moon that hangs
Hes all tangled and he broke his sticks on the links
Of his own chain gang
You oughta see this home that he own
Its like a box of jewelry
Hes got his own church bell
And his bed it lays in a gallery
And all the colors they shine like flames
Coming in through the window pane
They end up getting checked over twice
For the reds of someones veins
Its so cold and blown all apart
Its so cold and needing of a heart
He stands alone on the top of his home
Where all the blue birds flown
Sucks in on his cheeks and he cries
As he moans through a saxophone
He reaches high with his hands in the sky
And puts his fingers right into the storm
Always one to stand under the moon
And blow on his own horn
And anyone with anything has already begun to think
That somebody down there knows
Just how he sat down on his knees in the dirt
And buried someones rainbow
Its so cold and blown all apart
Its so cold and needing of a heart
Its so cold and blown all apart
Its so cold and needing of a heart
Well, I know you aint my enemy
The only ones inside of me
Hes killing me getting free
I hear he wants my head with an old ice pick
And fix me up on a stick
And all Ive ever got to be
Is everything I wanna be
And sugarfoot disagrees
He still stands tall underneath that apple tree
Man, hes still watching me
His chain gang is tryin to pull me down
Like the birds and the fireflies
They shoot arrows up into the skies
And they burn all the feathers dry
Well, he only wants to fill his belly up
With rocks till it hurts, then he stops
Well, he dont know what to do with love
If it dont fill his belly to the top
Its so cold and blown all apart
Its so cold and needing of a heart
Its so cold and blown all apart
Its so cold and needing of a heart
song performed by by Wallflowers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Desire
My desire
is always the same; wherever Life
deposits me:
I want to stick my toe
& soon my whole body
into the water.
I want to shake out a fat broom
& sweep dried leaves
bruised blossoms
dead insects
& dust.
I want to grow
something.
It seems impossible that desire
can sometimes transform into devotion;
but this has happened.
And that is how I've survived:
how the hole
I carefully tended
in the garden of my heart
grew a heart
to fill it.
poem by Alice Walker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Frozen Man
Last thing I remember is the freezing cold
Water reaching up just to swallow me whole
Ice in the rigging and howling wind
Shock to my body as we tumbled in
Then my brothers and the others are lost at sea
I alone am returned to tell thee
Hidden in ice for a century
To walk the world again
Lord have mercy on the frozen man
Next words that were spoken to me
Nurse asked me what my name might be
She was all in white at the foot of my bed
I said angel of mercy Im alive or am I dead
My name is william james mcphee
I was born in 1843
Raised in liverpool by the sea
But that aint who I am
Lord have mercy on the frozen man
It took a lot of money to start my heart
To peg my leg and to buy my eye
The newspapers call me the state of the art
And the children, when they see me, cry
I thought it would be nice just to visit my grave
See what kind of tombstone I might have
I saw my wife and my daughter and it seemed so strange
Both of them dead and gone from extreme old age
See here, when I die make sure Im gone
Dont leave em nothing to work on
You can raise your arm, you can wiggle your hand
And you can wave goodbye to the frozen man
I know what it means to freeze to death
To lose a little life with every breath
To say goodbye to life on earth
To come around again
Lord have mercy on the frozen man
Lord have mercy on the frozen man
song performed by by James Taylor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Arabah
My tears bath my pillow in the night like a river and,
My bed soaks all around me in the night like a lake;
But to whom shall i keep my peace with when,
I am lost in the ocean of the night?
Praise so be to you who understands my problem,
For how long can i swim to you on this river of love?
I am lost, naked lonely;
And i need your ture love to carry me on.
I am lost on this side of the river and,
How can i swim through this ocean of love?
Since, the woes of the night is all over me.
You can hear the noise of the river and,
You also see the pains to my movements;
But the sea of love to my heart is like this lake around me.
Come and carry me over this ocean,
Come and take me to the other side of love;
And like two lovers lost in the deep blue sea,
Why should my night be so long on your love?
This night needs an escape to your love zone,
So come oh my lover and take me across the sea;
And, why should this trap run over me without my lover?
For the cold of the night had also traped me than thought.
Come oh my lover and see me through,
For i am very lonely and naked;
And there comes the river of my tears again.
I have to overcome this lake and rushed into the ocean,
For your sweet love is enough to see me through the waves of the sea.
Why should this occur to me when, i am cold and lonely?
For a beggar knows his own lover and the blind knows his own way;
But i am alone and lost in my dreams.
Come oh my lover,
Come and see mee through;
Arabah is your name and, i will overcome this water by your sweet love.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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