Luna
O France, although you sleep
We call you, we the forbidden!
The shadows have ears,
And the depths have cries.
Bitter, glory-less despotism
Over a discouraged people
Closes a black thick grate
Of error and prejudice;
It locks up the loyal swarm
Of firm thinkers, of heroes,
But the Idea with the flap of a wing
Will part the heavy bars,
And, as in ninety-one,
Will retake sovereign flight,
For breaking apart a cage of bronze
Is easy for bronze bird.
Darkness covers the world,
But the Idea illuminates and shines;
With its white brightness it floods
The dark blues of the night.
It is the solitary lantern,
The providential ray;
It is the lamp of the earth
That cannot help but light the sky.
It calms the suffering soul,
Guides life, puts the dead to rest;
It shows the mean the gulf,
It shows the just the way.
In seeing in the dark mist
The Idea, love of sad eyes,
Rise calm, serene and pure,
On the mysterious horizon,
Fanaticism and hatred
Roar before each threshhold,
As obscene hounds howl
When appears the moon in mourning.
Oh! Think of the mighty Idea,
Nations! its superhuman brow
Has upon it, from now on, the light
That will show the way to tomorrow!
poem by Victor Hugo
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Related quotes
An Idea
An Idea can change the world, how many
things can be done from an idea, every piece
of object was an idea, sense the beginning of
time idea was the first thought created in the
mind, an idea is what surround’s every being.
But an idea is still only an idea and it can't be
felt, you cannot touch an idea or kiss it, or hold it,
ideas do not bleed or feel pain or love, an idea
cannot be seen or heard, its created in our thoughts,
but then again an idea can become real. An idea
can be what ever you which it to be, an idea can
be destructive, an idea can be brilliant, I've seen
people get killed in the name of ideas, ideas,
we walk around with a little
light bulb blinking in our thoughts, ideas.
poem by Elenushka Toledo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Take up one idea. Make that one idea your life - think of it, dream of it, live on idea. Let the brain, muscles, nerves, every part of your body, be full of that idea, and just leave every other idea alone. This is the way to success.
quote by Swami Vivekananda
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Better Idea
He hung the moon
Raised the sun
Made the lions walk
And the rivers run
Then he sat down, looked around
And thought a bit
Said, its all good but that aint quite it
So with his mighty hand he created man
And then
Chorus
He had a better idea
A much better idea
He made an angel like sweet perfume
A heavenly smile, someone who
Can light up a room with a heart so true
I thank God he created me
But when I look at you I see
He had a better idea
Thought Id have to face
This world alone
Just walk through life
Without a hand to hold
And I accepted that
I said in fact it might be nice
To live my way
Now thats paradise
Be he knew all along
I was wrong
Repeat chorus (2x)
He had a better idea
God had a better idea
song performed by by Diamond Rio
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Parental advisory (explicit content)
They are here
spray paint and marker pens
They are here to show
our defacement and vandalism
They are here to show us and kick
our ass our laws our bourgeois respectability
They are here to show us and kick against this idea
of unsustainable stability
They are here to show us and kick against this idea because they've got no fear
about death about governments about dominant thought
They are here to show us and kick against this idea because they've got no fear, they use the power
of freedom, expression, creativity, mercy and generosity
They are here to show us and kick against this idea because they've got no fear, they use the power to write down
their fragility their energy their sufferance their misplacement
They are here to show us and kick against this idea because they've got no fear to be opponent
when we are absent, when we decide for them, when we change the rules without their engagement
They are here to show us and kick against this idea
of the ruling class and the perfect family and the perfect life
They are here to show us and refuse
parents who scream and abuse, the bully mates, the violence, the prejudice
They are here to show
respect to the world, to the earth, to human beings
They are here
asking for protection, begging us to stop these fights
don't you see them?
poem by Ilaria Boffa
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Shadow
shadow
of the mind
it comes
from a twin
somewhere in the world
that only my heart
could find
my mind would feel
similar idea
that blazes
my top
a shadow
that keeps me
on my toe
on a noon day
shadows
misintepreted
in black
they come
in irregular form
neither white nor black
that cast a brain fire
brain storm
a thousand miles away
tracking
over my mind
an idea born
one claims to be one's own
when it is
the showering power
of the brain
that z-zats
round the world
that keeps
it flooded
with new wonders
wonder the idea
of light bulb actually
came from edison
the shadow
of somebody's thought
that sets his on fire
lighting up the world
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Light At Play
I am an object of light and the button,
You have some idea why I am richer than you!
You rest and play as the meanings of your page
At a way called wind.
Adorations are sweetness for the soul
As this closed book shows.
Perseverance and calamity show the mind at work.
When only light appears you are objecting
Like the wind of the weather, and the storm.
Then, so deluded, a night has arrived
For roofs are like them as they give comfort.
I am an object of light so ridiculed
For my comfort, and let us win this reality.
poem by Naveed Akram
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The central core of truth is that Christmas turns everything upside down, the upside of heaven come down to earth. The Christmas story puts a new value on every man. He is not a thing to be used, not a chemical accident, not an educated ape. Every man is a V.I.P., because he has divine worth. That was revealed when “Love came down at Christmas.” A scientist said, making a plea for exchange scholarships between nations, “The best way to send an idea is to wrap it up in a person.” That was what happened at Christmas. The idea of divine love was wrapped up in a person. Christmas is good news in a world of bad news. … Christmas brings hope to a dark world.
quote by Halford E. Luccock
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Under Saturn [Reprise]
Do not curse this day my friend
Once again I've come with this
poem of mine;
take it in, like it's a bread
you need to keep you alive,
It's all I have to offer
Treasure it like it's your own lover.
I do not intend to make you smile
Humour is never a part of my line
I wish you see the right part
to life.
Like scholars would say: philosophy
But I would rather say: reality
Let us now face truth for once,
This idea of God and love are one,
But yet still there are among us devils
Who would bring evil to their own
people.
Man have wandered far away
From this this love that I call God;
Do you derive pleasure when you
see a brother fall?
Do you enjoy it when you
see a sister suffering?
If yes, then you are a sadist
And sadist should not count among
the living.
Under Saturn there was a world
devoid of strife and suffering,
Is this also a world of you own
craving
Then let it manifest in your living.
This is a world of ours
We have nothing, no other,
If we come together,
We can make it better.
For Hell and Heaven are but
ideas invented,
Religious hypocrites only wish
To keep themselves contented.
Let us now ponder on this idea;
Our Hell and Heaven are they
really here on earth?
poem by Efe Benjamin
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Light
Brings hopes in the life, light
Travels with a greater might, light
Gives vision to many eyes, light
A colorful horizon on eastside, light
Seems coming form the heights, light
Over comes evils of the night, light
To the darkness it always strikes, light
Faster than any flight, light
For many beings it is a diet, light
Thunder seems snatching sight, light
Rainbow is at wide, light
Spreads everywhere at sunrise, light
Over sky all white, light
Gives impact always bright, light
Shows path, put on right, light
If one thinks it is a life, light
poem by Zaibar Zee
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Just For A Day
You have no idea what it’s like
To be the oldest
No idea what it’s like
To be exiled
You have no idea what it’s like
To be unnoticed
No idea what it’s like
To be me
So I suggest you put on my mask
For a while
Just for a year, for a month
For a day
So you can see
What it’s like
To be me
You can finally feel
My positions
Feel your weakness
In times like mine
How your feelings compress
All together
When you don’t say anything,
But hang your head
Nightwalker
I sleep at night
On a cloud high on the horizon
And when I close my eyes
My soul is struck by lightning
Then I sleep at night
Like a storm
Oh, I walk the night
cause your head is gone from my pillow
And when the twilight shines
My eyes crash through the windows
cause I sleep at night without you
When its dark and the night lays me down
When the moon shines the light on the ground
I just run where my thoughts take me to
cause I cant live in this world
Without love without you
I walk the night
I walk the night
Oh, I dream at night
It must be a madmans rainbow that Im chasing
cause when I close my eyes
I feel your sweet sensation
cause I dream at night about you
When its dark and the night lays me down
When the moon shines the light on my ground
I just run where my thoughts take me to
cause I cant live in this world
Without love without you
I walk the night
I walk the night
I just run where my thoughts take me to
cause I cant live in this world
Without love without you
I walk the night
I walk the night
song performed by by Gino Vanelli
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The idea of motherland is not a false idea, but it is a little idea, and one which must remain little. There is only one common good. There is only one moral duty, only one truth, and every man is the shining recipient and guardian of it. The present understanding of the idea of motherland divides all these great ideas, cuts them into pieces, specializes them within impenetrable circles. We meet as many national truths as we do nations, and as many national duties, and as many national interests and rights — and they are antagonistic to each other.
quote by Henri Barbusse
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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It takes a big idea to attract the attention of consumers and get them to buy your product. Unless your advertising contains a big idea, it will pass like a ship in the night. I doubt if more than one campaign in a hundred contains a big idea.
quote by David Ogilvy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ideal Perfect
Trying to be that idea of perfect,
When in reality we're all falling apart,
Dressing, acting, talking like everyone else,
What's wrong with being different? ?
Can't you see that's the greatest part of life...
Being unique.
Make that idea of perfect YOUR way.
When you feel alone,
Like no one cares,
Bad thoughts in your mind,
When you're on the edge of life,
Losing control...
Just forget about the world and everyone in it,
Stop trying to be that idea of perfect,
Just know...
You don't have to try for me or anyone else,
You're perfect and everything amazing to me,
Be yourself,
Because really you're so very special just the way you are
poem by Brandi Dybala
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VI
The tame bird was in a cage, the free bird was in the forest.
They met when the time came, it was a decree of fate.
The free bird cries, "O my love, let us fly to wood."
The cage bird whispers, "Come hither, let us both live in the
cage."
Says the free bird, "Among bars, where is there room to spread
one's wings?"
"Alas," cries the cage bird, "I should not know where to sit
perched in the sky."
The free bird cries, "My darling, sing the songs of the
woodlands."
The cage bird says, "Sit by my side, I'll teach you the speech of
the learned."
The forest bird cries, "No, ah no! songs can never be taught."
The cage bird says, "Alas for me, I know not the songs of the
woodlands."
Their love is intense with longing, but they never can fly wing
to wing.
Through the bars of the cage they look, and vain is their wish to
know each other.
They flutter their wings in yearning, and sing, "Come closer, my
love!"
The free bird cries, "It cannot be, I fear the closed doors of
the cage."
The cage bird whispers, "Alas, my wings are powerless and dead."
poem by Rabindranath Tagore from The Gardener (1913)
Submitted by Silvia Velea
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Small Minded Culture
Spreads an idea
Proclaiming itself to be
The truth.
An idea in its most
Simplistic form.
Spend all your years in it
And never get the meaning.
Keep questioning what the
Truth might really be.
And while returning to the light
You see life could have been more.
But if you breathe for more air
Returning to the life
That travels in a dark cloud…
You communicate
The message to the blind.
And only hope
It will be seen.
poem by Erica Borges
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Of Lovers And Friends
i like the idea
that once we
were lovers
savoring each
sweetness
in the dark
then we were
torn apart
like some important
pages in the book
another chapter
is missing
what i do not like
about is this idea
that we cannot be
friends anymore
you shy away
even with the slightest
hush of my
hello
are you still in
pain?
you still love
me then?
i am at home
now
with love and
peace
there is only one
thing that i ask:
is friendship
dead in your heart?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Idea Not As A Ray Of Light....
an idea is not always a ray of light
it can be a mirror under your bed beside your shoes
reflecting a ray of light from a leak of the wall
of your room dressed with curtains
when you lie there thinking about nothing
saturated about this modern opulence without
any efflorescence at all
you face the window
as usual you have closed it
there is no light there is only this faint sound
of the wind
this suppressed sobbing of lamentation
there is no light at all
and so the idea about faintness and fading
becomes a Sensurround
evidently it has lulled you to a deep
sleep
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Tame Bird Was In A Cage
THE tame bird was in a cage, the free bird was in the forest.
They met when the time came, it was a decree of fate.
The free bird cries, 'O my love, let us fly to the wood.'
The cage bird whispers, 'Come hither, let us both live in the cage.'
Says the free bird, 'Among bars, where is there room to spread one's wings?'
'Alas,' cries the caged bird, 'I should not know where to sit perched in the sky.'
The free bird cries, 'My darling, sing the songs of the woodlands.'
The cage bird sings, 'Sit by my side, I'll teach you the speech of the learned.'
The forest bird cries, 'No, ah no! songs can never be taught.'
The cage bird says, 'Alas for me, I know not the songs of the woodlands.'
There love is intense with longing, but they never can fly wing to wing.
Through the bars of the cage they look, and vain is their wish to know each other.
They flutter their wings in yearning, and sing, 'Come closer, my love!'
The free bird cries, 'It cannot be, I fear the closed doors of the cage.'
The cage bird whispers, 'Alas, my wings are powerless and dead.'
poem by Rabindranath Tagore
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The Night
Through that pure virgin shrine,
That sacred veil drawn o'er Thy glorious noon,
That men might look and live, as glowworms shine,
And face the moon,
Wise Nicodemus saw such light
As made him know his God by night.
Most blest believer he!
Who in that land of darkness and blind eyes
Thy long-expected healing wings could see,
When Thou didst rise!
And, what can never more be done,
Did at midnight speak with the Sun!
Oh who will tell me where
He found Thee at that dead and silent hour?
What hallowed solitary ground did bear
So rare a flower,
Within whose sacred leaves did lie
The fullness of the Deity?
No mercy-seat of gold,
No dead and dusty cherub, nor carved stone,
But His own living works did my Lord hold
And lodge alone;
Where trees and herbs did watch and peep
And wonder, while the Jews did sleep.
Dear night! this world's defeat;
The stop to busy fools; care's check and curb;
The day of spirits; my soul's calm retreat
Which none disturb!
Christ's progress, and His prayer time;
The hours to which high Heaven doth chime;
God's silent, searching flight;
When my Lord's head is filled with dew, and all
His locks are wet with the clear drops of night;
His still, soft call;
His knocking time; the soul's dumb watch,
When spirits their fair kindred catch.
Were all my loud, evil days
Calm and unhaunted as is thy dark tent,
Whose peace but by some angel's wing or voice
Is seldom rent,
Then I in heaven all the long year
Would keep, and never wander here.
But living where the sun
Doth all things wake, and where all mix and tire
Themselves and others, I consent and run
To every mire,
And by this world's ill-guiding light,
Err more than I can do by night.
There is in God - some say -
A deep but dazzling darkness, as men here
Say it is late and dusky, because they
See not all clear.
Oh for that night, where I in Him
Might live invisible and dim!
poem by Henry Vaughan
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