When Am I Going To Rest
When am I going to rest?
When I'm going to fetch water
You are on my back
When I'm going to fetch firewood
You are on my back
Oh! When am I going to rest?
When am I going to rest?
When I want to rest
You are on my breast
Suckling like a calf
Yet you have little sharpened teeth
I can even scream if you bite my breast.
All you know is to wee wee, eat and cry
Without giving me time to rest
To my breast
You are the pest
Applying pepper might be a pest control
But still I will not rest
Because there is much to do for you
Perhaps death will be my rest.
poem by Walani Ndhlovu
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
The White Lady
I cannot rest, I cannot rest
In straight and shiny wood,
My woven hands upon my breast--
The dead are all so good!
The earth is cool across their eyes;
They lie there quietly.
But I am neither old nor wise;
They do not welcome me.
Where never I walked alone before,
I wander in the weeds;
And people scream and bar the door,
And rattle at their beads.
We cannot rest, we never rest
Within a narrow bed
Who still must love the living best--
Who hate the pompous dead!
poem by Dorothy Parker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Aaron
Holiness on the head,
Light and perfection on the breast,
Harmonious bells below, raising the dead
To led them unto life and rest.
Thus are true Aarons dressed.
Profaneness in my head,
Defects and darkness in my breast,
A noise of passions ringing me for dead
Unto a place where is no rest.
Poor priest thus am I dressed.
Only another head
I have, another heart and breast,
another music, making live not dead,
without whom I could have no rest:
In him I am well dressed.
Christ is my only head,
My alone only heart and breast,
My only music, striking me even dead;
That to the old man I may rest,
And be in him new dressed.
So holy in my head,
Perfect and light in my dear breast,
My doctrine tuned by Christ, (who is not dead,
But lives in me while I do rest)
Come people; Aaron's dressed.
poem by George Herbert
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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First day
I see you found my underground
Help yourself to guns and ammo
Nothing here has ever seen the light of day
I leave it in my head
It's the first day of the rest of your life
It's the first day of the rest of your life
It's the first day of the rest of your life
It's the first day of the rest of your life
You'll remember me, for the rest of your life
You'll remember me, for the rest of your life
It's the first day of the rest of your life
It's the first day of the rest of your life
It's the first day of the rest of your life
It's the first day of the rest of your life
It's the first day of the rest of your life
It's the first day of the rest of your life
It's the first day of the rest of your life
It's the first day of the rest of your life
You'll remember me, for the rest of your life
You'll remember me, for the rest of your life
It's the first day of the rest of your life
It's the first day of the rest of your life
It's the first day of the rest of your life
It's the first day of the rest of your life
It's the first day of the rest of your life
It's the first day of the rest of your life
It's the first day of the rest of your life
It's the first day of the rest of your life
It's the first day of the rest of your life
It's the first day of the rest of your life
It's the first day of the rest of your life
It's the first day of the rest of your life
song performed by by Brian Molko, music by Timo Maas
Submitted by Simona Enache
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Dream-Land
Where sunless rivers weep
Their waves into the deep
She sleeps a charmed sleep:
Awake her not.
Led by a single star,
She came from very far
To seek where shadows are
Her pleasant lot.
She left the rosy morn,
She left the fields of corn,
For twilight cold and lorn
And water springs.
Through sleep, as through a veil,
She sees the sky look pale,
And hears the nightingale
That sadly sings.
Rest, rest, a perfect rest
Shed over brow and breast;
Her face is toward the west,
The purple land.
She cannot see the grain
Ripening on hill and plain;
She cannot feel the rain
Upon her hand.
Rest, rest, for evermore
Upon a mossy shore;
Rest, rest at the heart's core
Till time shall cease:
Sleep that no pain shall wake;
Night that no morn shall break
Till joy shall overtake
Her perfect peace.
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dream Land
Where sunless rivers weep
Their waves into the deep,
She sleeps a charmed sleep:
Awake her not.
Led by a single star,
She came from very far
To seek where shadows are
Her pleasant lot.
She left the rosy morn,
She left the fields of corn,
For twilight cold and lorn
And water springs.
Through sleep, as through a veil,
She sees the sky look pale,
And hears the nightingale
That sadly sings.
Rest, rest, a perfect rest
Shed over brow and breast;
Her face is toward the west,
The purple land.
She cannot see the grain
Ripening on hill and plain;
She cannot feel the rain
Upon her hand.
Rest, rest, for evermore
Upon a mossy shore;
Rest, rest at the heart's core
Till time shall cease:
Sleep that no pain shall wake;
Night that no morn shall break
Till joy shall overtake
Her perfect peace.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti (1893)
Submitted by anonym
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I Do
Well I've gone steady with a-lots of girls
And to all of them I tried to be true
But I'm so glad I never promised them
What I promised you
And that's I do (I do, yes I do)
Take you (take you, I'll take you)
For my wife (for my, for my wife)
For the rest of my life (ah yes the rest of my life)
Well I heard from my folks
Time and time again
To make sure that I found the right one
And every time you meet
Your heart will beat
And you'll want to say
You'll say I do (I do, yes I do)
Take you (take you, I'll take you)
For my wife (for my, for my wife)
For the rest of my life (ah yes the rest of my life now)
Oh yes I do (I do, yes I do)
Take you (take you, I'll take you)
For my wife (for my, for my wife)
For the rest of my life (ah yes the rest of my life now)
Ah ha ha I do (I do, yes I do)
Take you (take you, I'll take you)
For my wife (for my, for my wife)
For the rest of my life (ah yes the rest of my life now)
Ah ha ha I do (I do, yes I do)
Take you (take you, I'll take you)
For my wife (for my, for my wife)
For the rest of my life (ah yes the rest of my life now)
Ah ha yes I do (I do, yes I do)
Take you (take you, I'll take you)
For my wife (for my, for my wife)
For the rest of my life
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dirge To A Nigerian Vacuum
Rest, rest, you silenced leaves
Dance, dance till to eternity you set
Where the heat of theft scorches not
Rest, rest, maligned brothers of a crash
Dance, dance from the platter of charred peat
Tanned in aluminium crusts
Where you leave bereft of earthly troubles
Rest, rest, rested Nigerian comrades
poem by Oludipe Samuel
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Good Night
Close now thine eyes and rest secure;
Thy soul is safe enough, thy body sure;
He that loves thee, He that keeps
And guards thee, never slumbers, never sleeps.
The smiling conscience in a sleeping breast
Has only peace, has only rest;
The music and the mirth of kings
Are all but very discords, when she sings;
Then close thine eyes and rest secure;
No sleep so sweet as thine, no rest so sure.
poem by Francis Quarles
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First and Last
Thy "little lamb" once more!
My Lord, my life, my rest,
Borne in thine arms the wide world o'er,
A lamb upon thy breast.
Thy sheep across the waste
Were wandering far and wide,
And after them my heart would baste
To bring them to thy side.
Thy lambs were weak and faint,
I could but give my best;
Feebly I sought to still the plaint,
And bear them on my breast.
Great Shepherd of the sheep!
The sheep are thine, not mine!
Thou thy great flock wilt surely keep,
And each one lamb of thine.
Ever, the wide waste o'er,
A lamb upon thy breast!
Thy lost thou seekest evermore,
I seek, with thee, and rest.
A lamb upon thy breast,
Still learning what thou art, -
Our Lord, our life, our strength, our rest!
Borne on thy changeless heart.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Thy "little lamb" once more
My Lord, my life, my rest;
Borne in thine arms the dark flood o'er,
A lamb upon thy breast!
poem by Elizabeth Rundle Charles from Littell's Living Age, Volume 143, Issue 1842
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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She Is The Best Of The Rest
Here she comes, control yourselves,
The cherubic posture she potrays,
The attraction intense for a man,
She glitters and is full of wonder
Rape her not because you might,
Lest I kill you with fury
She is the best of the rest
The rest come with artificiality,
Yet her naturality enslaves the eyes of men,
The rest thus envy her,
Yet she reamains the best of the rest
Loving her was a choice,
Yet also a liability,
Because there exist no variability,
So awkward and rare the rationality,
Before her, i lack creativity,
As though we in an activity,
An activity of exploring sensetivity,
She is the best of the rest I know
Was it an illusion I asked,
Such wonderment i have not seen before,
Such perfection women cannot reach,
The world sees and praises,
The empress of all fairness,
In my arms alone she rests,
She is the best of the rest
poem by Gaylord Munemo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Just Like All The Rest.
Just like all the rest, oh girl what have you been through. How can you say such things when you don't know. Hasn't he told you. I'm a train wreck. A man looking for a little substance in my life. And again you say like all the rest. Girl you must be so blessed to say that to me. For i know what i need and so must you. Cataclysmic was the time when we met. I was weak, so were you. I was looking for somebody. So were you. Still i hear you say just like all the rest. I must confess. When worlds collide. And tears fall that we try to hide. Always the better person. So rehearsed. So well versed. I can say just like all the rest. You left in such a mess. And you will still never know. You got to give someone a chance before you just let go. Just like all the rest are words i shall never forget.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Who's Got My Back?
Run...hide
All that was sacred to us
Sacred to us
See the signs
The covenant has been broken
By mankind
Leaving us with no shoulder...with no shoulder
To rest our head on
To rest our head on
To rest our head on
Who's got my back now?
When all we have left is deceptive
So disconnected
So what is the truth now?
There's still time
All that has been devastated
Can be recreated
Realize
We pick up the broken pieces
Of our lives
Giving ourselves to each other...ourselves to each other
To rest our head on
To rest our head on
To rest our head on
Who's got my back now?
When all we have left is deceptive
So disconnected
So what is the truth now?
Tell me the truth now...Tell us the truth now
Who's got my back now?
When all we have left is deceptive
So disconnected
So what is the truth now?
song performed by by Creed from Weathered
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Rest Might
The rest might...
Criticize.
The rest might,
Analyze the times.
But these are
Only the times to live.
And these are
Only the times to give...
'What' and 'how' we can.
The rest might...
Try to hide.
The rest might,
Cry with alibis.
But sympathies
Really do not pay.
Not even wishing
That these times go away.
Nothing,
Today will stay!
The rest might...
Close their eyes.
The rest might,
Fight themselves inside.
But even having nothing more to say...
Wont make a difference,
If all things decay...
Right before our eyes!
The rest might...
Criticize.
The rest might,
Analyze the times.
But these are
Only the times to live.
And these are
Only the times to give...
'What' and 'how' we can.
So live your life enhanced!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Promise of Sleep
Put the sweet thoughts from out thy mind,
The dreams from out thy breast;
No joy for thee--but thou shalt find
Thy rest
All day I could not work for woe,
I could not work nor rest;
The trouble drove me to and fro,
Like a leaf on the storm's breast.
Night came and saw my sorrow cease;
Sleep in the chamber stole;
Peace crept about my limbs, and peace
Fell on my stormy soul.
And now I think of only this,--
How I again may woo
The gentle sleep-- who promises
That death is gentle too.
Honest Goodbyes
Sink with the tide
Rescue me if you like
I'll be leaving it all up to you
Think how we tried
It's o.k. to be lied to
As long as it's only by you
People say to me it's best that we've parted
'Cause you know I'm better alone
Don't explain to me how you're so broken hearted
I'm too busy mending my own
Ending each night with such honest goodbyes
Such honest goodbyes for the last time
Honest goodbyes only work once or twice
They work once or twice
Then the rest must be lies
Late ever night the colours fade from the sky
And the music is gone from the moon
Standing in line for what used to be mine
What use is the rhyme with no tune
People say to me it's best that we've parted
And nothing is carved out in stone
It's such a shame how we're back where we started
It's late now and time that we go
Ending each night with such honest goodbyes
Such honest goodbyes for the last time
Honest goodbyes only work once or twice
They work once or twice
Then the rest must be lies
The rest must be lies
The rest must be lies
The rest must be lies
The rest must be lies
The rest must be lies
The rest must be lies
The rest must be lies
song performed by by Bic Runga from Beautiful Collision
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Deserting?
Rest young friend or bird. The enemy retells its sacred nature so as to rest and not let you rest or run or hide. This is the rest, my bird, the release of tension and deserting is common. Will you desert?
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A New Song to an Old Tune - From Victor Hugo
If a pleasant lawn there grow
By the showers caressed,
Where in all the seasons blow
Flowers gaily dressed,
Where by handfuls one may win
Lilies, woodbine, jessamine,
I will make a path therein
For thy feet to rest.
If there live in honour's sway
An all-loving breast
Whose devotion cannot stray,
Never gloom-oppressed -
If this noble breast still wake
For a worthy motive's sake,
There a pillow I will make
For thy head to rest.
If there be a dream of love,
Dream that God has blest,
Yielding daily treasure-trove
Of delightful zest,
With the scent of roses filled,
With the soul's communion thrilled,
There, oh! there a nest I'll build
For thy heart to rest.
poem by Robert Fuller Murray
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For a change
I
The being
The rest of my life
Thou
The being
The rest of your time
We both put our hat down
To everything passing by
Beg for small coins
The rest of someone’s ownership
For a change
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Song of Truce
Till the tread of marching feet
Through the quiet grass-grown street
Of the little town shall come,
Soldier, rest awhile at home.
While the banners idly hang,
While the bugles do not clang,
While is hushed the clamorous drum,
Soldier, rest awhile at home.
In the breathing-time of Death,
While the sword is in its sheath,
While the cannon's mouth is dumb,
Soldier, rest awhile at home.
Not too long the rest shall be.
Soon enough, to Death and thee,
The assembly call shall come.
Soldier, rest awhile at home.
poem by Robert Fuller Murray
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Not to Keep
They sent him back to her. The letter came
Saying... And she could have him. And before
She could be sure there was no hidden ill
Under the formal writing, he was in her sight,
Living. They gave him back to her alive
How else? They are not known to send the dead
And not disfigured visibly. His face?
His hands? She had to look, and ask,
"What was it, dear?" And she had given all
And still she had all they had they the lucky!
Wasn’t she glad now? Everything seemed won,
And all the rest for them permissible ease.
She had to ask, "What was it, dear?"
"Enough,"
Yet not enough. A bullet through and through,
High in the breast. Nothing but what good care
And medicine and rest, and you a week,
Can cure me of to go again." The same
Grim giving to do over for them both.
She dared no more than ask him with her eyes
How was it with him for a second trial.
And with his eyes he asked her not to ask.
They had given him back to her, but not to keep.
poem by Robert Frost
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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