Dream comes true!
The hills are the status,
to the rich and powerful,
so I wanted to live on a hill,
with spacious garden and guard dogs.
If I stay on a hill,
I can touch the clouds,
be closer to moon and stars.
I wanted to stay on a hill.
The hills always belong to people,
who possess the hard cash and metal,
so I am put in an apartment,
that is built as high as a hill.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Up On The Hill
We come from a long line of lenders
Who get rich just exploiting you spenders
But now we just manage our blenders
Up, up, up on the hill
It helps to be charming and funny
Have cute names like binky and bunny
But the main things still oodles of money
Up, up, up on the hill
Up on the hill we are the big cheeses
Up on the hill we own the cool breezes
Top of the heap is where we know we belong
Up on the hill above the confusion
Up on the hill we live our illusions
Up, up, up on the hill
Marmalade mansions beneath cloudless skies
Breathtaking vistas that baffle your eyes
Were passing our days in a rare atmosphere
Sun, sea, and stars, and warm breezes all year
Our blood is decidedly blue-ish
Were leery of anything newish
And or course, darling, nobodys jewish
Up, up, up on the hill
Up on the hill we are the big cheeses
Up on the hill we own the cool breezes
The top of the heap is where we know we belong
Up on the hill above the confusion
Up on the hill we live our illusions
Up, up, up on the hill
Up, up, up on the hill
Way up, up, up on the hill
song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Hill
Who are those people
living at the top of the hill?
I don't know them.
I guess I never will.
Who are the people
that I see
living at the bottom of the hill
just like me?
We are the complainers
and we find it odd
that the ones at the top of the hill
think they're God.
We need to stop complainin'
and climb up the hill
and shout out loud
'We've had our fill.'
You're not Gods.
You never have been,
These hills where you're livin'
are filled with sin.
You've sinned against humanity
at the bottom of the hill.
And all that you'; ve done
is against God's will.
You're the imposters
with crowns on your head.
You are the laughables
that have been misled.
We, at the bottom of the hill
always will survive.
We'll do what we've always done
to keep our hopes alive.
We will pray.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lavender Hill
I want to walk eternity,
In through the land of make believe.
And watch the clouds roll over me,
And let the sun shine down on me.
The only place that I wanna be,
Lavender hill for me.
Wish I could live on sugar and milk,
Then I could live on lavender hill.
Then I could raise my head to the sky,
And let the sun saturate me with love.
I wanna walk you up lavender hill,
Everybody loves lavender hill.
Even the bird that sits in the tree,
Seems to sing sweet melodies.
Even the breeze is whispering,
Lavender hill for me.
While people eat their biscuits with tea,
They dream of daffodils that sway in the breeze.
And every sunday afternoon,
Tidy ladies shine their shoes.
And every little lady dreams,
Lavender memories.
Lavender hill for me.
Lavender hill for me.
I wanna walk you up lavender hill.
I wanna walk you up lavender hill.
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Little Hill
Oh, here the air is sweet and still,
And soft's the grass to lie on;
And far away's the little hill
They took for Christ to die on.
And there's a hill across the brook,
And down the brook's another;
But, oh, the little hill they took,—
I think I am its mother!
The moon that saw Gethsemane,
I watch it rise and set:
It has so many things to see,
They help it to forget.
But little hills that sit at home
So many hundred years,
Remember Greece, remember Rome,
Remember Mary's tears.
And far away in Palestine,
Sadder than any other,
Grieves still the hill that I call mine,—
I think I am its mother!
poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Uphill Rythm
A running poem for grinding up those hills.....hope it helps!
Got to get those feet moving first....
1-2-3-4
Up-hill Rhy-thm
1-2-3-4
Up-hill Rhy-thm
1-2-I've got no respect for pain,
My willpower's high octane,
I'm steaming up this hill like a supercharged train.
I'm in the physical commotion,
Of human locomotion
I have legs that are powered by internal combustion
I drink kerosene,
I sweat petroleum,
There's nothing ever been
That can break my uphill rhythm
1-2-3-4
Up-hill Ry-thm
1-2-3-4
Some call me flunky,
'cause I'm a running junky,
I don't snort coke
I don't do heroin,
But I get high on respiration and I shoot adrenaline
Pounding, pounding, pounding
Deep into my soul
I'm not stopping
It's time for cortisol.
1-2-3-4
Up-hill flunk-y
1-2-3-4
Up-hill Junk-y
I don't want to join your team
I don't need to win your race
I run my own dream
I set my own pace
Running, running, running
Until I have an aneurysm
But don't bet your money that will break my uphill rhythm
That's i t: -)
poem by Mike Michaels
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Seasons In The Sun
Goodbye my friend its hard to die
when all the birds are singing in the sky
And all the flowers are everywhere
Pretty girls are everywhere
Think of me and I'll be there
Goodbye, Papa, please play for me.
I was the black sheep of the family.
And I don't know the ... all these words.
I have boggy turds.
With my B.B. gun I would kill birds.
We had joy. We had fun.
We had seasons in the sun,
but the hills that we climb
were just seasons out of time.
All our lives, we had fun.
We had seasons in the sun,
but the hill that we reached
were just starfish on the beach
Goodbye Michelle my little one
I was the apple of the shiny sun.
And la la la la hill we reach.
All my tears are salty.
I think now I will start to read.
We had joy. We had fun.
We had seasons in the sun,
but the hills that we climb
were just seasons out of time.
We had joy. We had fun.
We had seasons in the sun,
but the hill on the beach
were just starfish on the beach
We had joy. We had fun.
We had seasons in the sun,
but the hills that we climb
were just seasons out of time.
I've had joy. We had fun.
We had seasons in the sun,
but the stars that we reached
were just starfish on the beach
song performed by by Nirvana
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Climb That Hill
Something threw me in the dirt
Kinda got my feelings hurt
We was burnin somewhere down the wind
I had to get up and climb that hill again
Little lucys such a doll
Like to climb her garden wall
But she only sees me as a friend
I got to get up and climb that hill again
I gotta bury my pride, drag this line
Over that hill one more time
Gotta get up in the morning, make my way
Over that hill again
I gotta bury my pride, drag this line
Over that hill one more time
Gotta get up in the morning, make my way
Over that hill again
Tempers flare and the words are spoken
You close one door and another opens
You hear the music and youre wondering
You got to get up and climb that hill
Get up and climb that hill
You got to get up and climb that hill again
song performed by by Tom Petty
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hills of the Planet
May hills form from illness of the planet,
Erosion of landforms make them of the planet.
Exposure to the elements will kill your substance,
May hills find fault with you and condemn the planet.
May winter know the rock of the Earth,
Whilst roundness of the hill is like a diadem of the planet.
Expose the hills to torture of the weather
By constructing mountains with a gem called the planet.
My hill is grand and openly small as well,
I live it and my house and my family and my poem that is the planet.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Blueberry Hill
I found my thrill
On blueberry hill
On blueberry hill
When I found you
The moon stood still (moon stood still)
On blueberry hill (blueberry hill)
It lingered until (lingered until)
My dream true (true)
Though were apart (we are apart)
I think of you still (think of you still)
For you were my friend (you were my friend)
On blueberry hill
The wind in the willow played
Loves sweet melody
But all those vows you made
Were never to be
Though were apart (we are apart)
I think of you still (think of you still)
For you were my friend (you were my friend)
On blueberry hill
I found my thrill (found my thrill)
On blueberry hill (blueberry hill)
On blueberry hill (blueberry hill)
When I found you (you)
The moon stood still (moon stood still)
On blueberry hill (blueberry hill)
It lingered until (lingered until)
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Woak Hill
When sycamore leaves wer a-spreadèn
Green-ruddy in hedges,
Bezide the red doust o' the ridges,
A-dried at Woak Hill;
I packed up my goods all a sheenèn
Wi' long years o' handlèn,
On dousty red wheel ov a waggon,
To ride at Woak Hill.
The brown thatchen ruf o' the dwellèn,
I then wer a-le{'a}vèn,
Had shelter'd the sleek head o' Me{'a}ry,
My bride at Woak Hill.
But now vor zome years, her light voot-vall
'S a-lost vrom the vloorèn.
Too soon vor my ja{'y} an' my childern,
She died at Woak Hill.
But still I do think that, in soul,
She do hover about us;
To ho vor her motherless childern,
Her pride at Woak Hill.
Zoo--lest she should tell me hereafter
I stole off 'ithout her,
An' left her, uncall'd at house-riddèn,
To bide at Woak Hill--
I call'd her so fondly, wi' lippèns
All soundless to others,
An' took her wi' a{'i}r-reachèn hand,
To my zide at Woak Hill.
On the road I did look round, a-talkèn
To light at my shoulder,
An' then led her in at the doorway,
Miles wide vrom Woak Hill.
An' that's why vo'k thought, vor a season,
My mind wer a-wandrèn
Wi' sorrow, when I wer so sorely
A-tried at Woak Hill.
But no; that my Me{'a}ry mid never
Behold herzelf slighted,
I wanted to think that I guided
My guide vrom Woak Hill.
poem by William Barnes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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On The Eastern Ghats On A Monsoon Day
a benevolent sky
a silken road
uplifting green on either side
the blue-grey hills move farther away
as i move closer to them
always standing on a hill
the other hill looked more welcoming
never there a high point
nor a lower point!
hills to the right
hills to the left
hills in front
hills behind
down in the valleys
green stretches of paddy
dotted by men, women
from the virgin ghats
a soothing breeze
blowing across the hills
covers them in a huge grey cloud
carefully led here from elsewhere
the hills appear hazy
the trees dance to a merry tune
all connive to release
a comforting shower
tip tap goes the music
lo, here’s the shower
and a little distance away
no rain, the rain at its
game of hide and seek!
rain and breeze blown through
the thick foliage of
coffee and creepers of pepper
winding the sky-kissing silver oaks
the smell of rain
the aroma of air-ripples
touch my cheek
i step on to the road
to be one with the unique
blend of all the earthy perfumes
hordes of unruly cattle and goats
having had their fill
trail back homeward
their keeper struggling
to discipline them
men under large palm-leaf-umbrellas
women giggling with the showers
clouds enveloping us
clouds chasing us
i slowly but reluctantly descend
still smelling of the blended scents
still smelling of raindrops…
21jul2010
13.25hrs
poem by Indira Babbellapati
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The River and the Hill
And they shook their sweetness out in their sleep
On the brink of that beautiful stream,
But it wandered along with a wearisome song
Like a lover that walks in a dream:
So the roses blew
When the winds went through,
In the moonlight so white and still;
But the river it beat
All night at the feet
Of a cold and flinty hill -
Of a hard and senseless hill!
I said, "We have often showered our loves
Upon something as dry as the dust;
And the faith that is crost, and the hearts that are lost -
Oh! how can we wittingly trust?
Like the stream which flows,
And wails as it goes.
Through the moonlight so white and still,
To beat and to beat
All night at the feet
Of a cold and flinty hill -
Of a hard and senseless hill?
"River, I stay where the sweet roses blow,
And drink of their pleasant perfumes!
Oh, why do you moan, in this wide world alone,
When so much affection here blooms?
The winds wax faint,
And the moon like a saint
Glides over the woodlands so white and still!
But you beat and you beat
All night at the feet
Of that cold and flinty hill -
Of that hard and senseless hill!"
poem by Henry Kendall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Woak Hill
When sycamore leaves wer a-spreaden
Green-ruddy in hedges,
Bezide the red doust o' the ridges,
A-dried at Woak Hill;
I packed up my goods, all a-sheenen
Wi' long years o' handlen,
On dousty red wheels ov a waggon,
To ride at Woak Hill.
The brown thatchen ruf o' the dwellen
I then wer a-leaven,
Had sheltered the sleek head o' Meary,
My bride at Woak Hill.
But now vor zome years, her light voot-vall
'S a-lost vrom the vlooren.
To soon vor my jay an' my childern
She died at Woak Hill.
But still I do think that, in soul,
She do hover about us;
To ho vor her motherless childern,
Her pride at Woak Hill.
Zoo—lest she should tell me hereafter
I stole off 'ithout her,
An' left her, uncalled at house-ridden,
To bide at Woak Hill—
I called her so fondly, wi' lippens
All soundless to others,
An' took her wi' air-reachen hand
To my zide at Woak Hill.
On the road I did look round, a-talken
To light at my shoulder,
An' then led her in at the doorway,
Miles wide vrom Woak Hill.
An' that's why vo'k thought, vor a season,
My mind wer a-wandren
Wi' sorrow, when I wer so sorely
A-tried at Woak Hill.
But no; that my Meary mid never
Behold herzelf slighted,
I wanted to think that I guided
My guide vrom Woak Hill.
poem by Ingeborg Bachmann
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The Echo, The Mocking Bird
to produce the echo
i need one single voice
to make the sound
i need the hill and another hill
sort of wall
where the voice is trapped
and bounce
from one corner to another
and there you have
the echo
you are the sound
i am the hill
and another hill
i am many
much many than you
expect
do you see that tree
higher than your roof?
i am that hill beyond
the grassy field
do you see the mockingbird
sitting on the twig?
please do not mention
any name
do not drag
another one
but if no one admits
well,
it could be me
i supposed so, it can be me too.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Folks Who Live On The Hill
Folks Who Live on the Hill
((1937) Oscar Hammerstein II, Jerome Kern)
Someday we'll build a home on a hilltop high,
You and I,
Shiny and new a cottage that two can fill.
And we'll be pleased to be called,
"The folks who live on the hill".
Someday we may be adding a thing or two,
A wing or two.
We will make changes as any fam'ly will,
But we will always be called,
"The folks who live on the hill".
Our veranda will command a view of meadows green,
The sort of veiw that seems to want to be seen.
And when the kids grow up and leave us,
We'll sit and look at the same old view,
Just we two.
Darby and Joan who used to be Jack and Jill,
The folks like to be called,
What they have always been called,
"The folks who live on the hill".
song performed by by Nina Simone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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This Is Where I Belong
I cant think of a place Id rather be.
The whole wide world doesnt mean so much to me,
For this is where I belong,
This is where I belong.
Tell me now if you want me to stay.
It dont matter, cause Id stay here anyway.
For this is where I belong,
This is where I belong.
Well, I aint gonna wander,
Like the boy I used to know.
Hes a real unluckly fella,
And hes got no place to go.
I wont search for a house upon a hill.
Why should I when Id only miss you still,
For this is where I belong,
This is where I belong.
This is where I belong.
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Blueberry Hill
(words & music by lewis - stock - rose)
I found my thrill on blueberry hill
On blueberry hill when I found you
The moon stood still on blueberry hill
And lingered until my dreams came true
The wind in the willow played
Loves sweet melody
But all of those vows we made
Were never to be
Tho were apart, youre part of me still
For you were my thrill on blueberry hill
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sizzla
Most wanted!
To the chill spot,
Change,
Mr. Postman,
Sizzla! !
Take me home,
Of the police,
Of the people,
Like the highlander;
Process,
The chill spot!
Coach,
Hill spot!
Hill top,
Take me home,
With the magic touch of love;
But not the killing spot.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Drawing Crazy Patterns
Its like sleeping now
He got married in the rush
Abels only son was gone
He finds hard to adjust
Hes feeling younger now
Younger than he was before
He wishes he had changed his mind
Yeah old mistakes they seem so small
And if he had to be you
Then hed get out and do the things hes always wanted
Standing outside
Like a joker on a hill
Hes drawing crazy patterns
With his shoes
Some people push by
And everyone is cursing them
But he doesnt raise his hand
He broke his dreams and lost his friends
Hes asking questions now
Got caught in his confusion
He shakes his head and looks at me
Then he shouts out loud
If you had to be me
Would you get out and do the things you always wanted
Standing outside
Like a joker on a hill
Hes drawing crazy patterns
With his shoes
Standing outside
Like a joker on a hill
Hes drawing crazy patterns
With his shoes
Its like sleeping now
When youre gazing at the floor
And on this late night
Its getting harder now harder now
Standing outside
Like a joker on a hill
Hes drawing crazy patterns
With his shoes
Hes drawing crazy patterns
With his shoes
Hes drawing crazy patterns
With his shoes
song performed by by Texas
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Drawing Crazy Patterns
Its like sleeping now
He got married in the rush
Abels only son was gone
He finds hard to adjust
Hes feeling younger now
Younger than he was before
He wishes he had changed his mind
Yeah old mistakes they seem so small
And if he had to be you
Then hed get out and do the things hes always wanted
Standing outside
Like a joker on a hill
Hes drawing crazy patterns
With his shoes
Some people push by
And everyone is cursing them
But he doesnt raise his hand
He broke his dreams and lost his friends
Hes asking questions now
Got caught in his confusion
He shakes his head and looks at me
Then he shouts out loud
If you had to be me
Would you get out and do the things you always wanted
Standing outside
Like a joker on a hill
Hes drawing crazy patterns
With his shoes
Standing outside
Like a joker on a hill
Hes drawing crazy patterns
With his shoes
Its like sleeping now
When youre gazing at the floor
And on this late night
Its getting harder now harder now
Standing outside
Like a joker on a hill
Hes drawing crazy patterns
With his shoes
Hes drawing crazy patterns
With his shoes
Hes drawing crazy patterns
With his shoes
song performed by by Texas
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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