Walt Whitman

As The Time Draws Nigh

AS the time draws nigh, glooming, a cloud,
A dread beyond, of I know not what, darkens me.

I shall go forth,
I shall traverse The States awhile--but I cannot tell whither or how
long;
Perhaps soon, some day or night while I am singing, my voice will
suddenly cease.


O book, O chants! must all then amount to but this?
Must we barely arrive at this beginning of us?... And yet it is
enough, O soul!
O soul! we have positively appear'd--that is enough.

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Soul Singing

Written by: r. robinson & c. robinson
Ive been down
Cascading and blue w/out a sound
Now Ive traded my black feathers for a crown
So feed me milk & honey
Lay me down
Lay me down
Look around
Show me holy places not yet found
Lets disappear and well hide underground
Well get high and well feel safe & sound
It comes around arayayayound
Chorus:
You got my soul singing my soul singing
You got my soul singing my soul singing
You got my soul singing my soul singing
You got my soul singing my soul singing
Home bound
Tired of tired of running town to town
Tired of my heart turned upside down
Now my lifes a smile not a frown
The sound
The sound
Chorus

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Shadows in My Own Rhyme

here is the cloud shadows ran outside the window, sucking the dewy liquid air, not resist, what is called today? never falling into the sky, the green memories, grazed to the flat lands, once on the edge of the memory, the hunt for is almost over, only be a voice murmur, singing in uncertainty, the wind always blows deliver the weather news, his voice barely audible, crying is just a trickle of water that soaks the window, 'when would you arrive? ' sit in the center of indecision, the wind kept blowing, silent window, shadows recorded on this poem.

1991

poem by Imam Setiaji RonoatmojoReport problemRelated quotes
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Just Out Of Reach

He stands alone
Waiting since eternity
To catch a glimmer
Of the one he waits for
Since the beginning of time
He meets many thinking
She is the one
Only to find
It's not to be
He sighs with each heart break
Shakes his raven head
In sorrow thinking
Will they ever meet?

She has searched
Looking since eternity
For the one soul mate
That seams to be
Just out of reach
She gives herself to the ones
She thinks is indeed
Are her soul mates
Only to learn
It's not to be
She crumbles and cries
Thinking to herself
Will they ever meet?

Like ships in the night
They pass each other by
Not knowing who they are
They keep searching in vain
Each cycle that passes
They are just out of reach

He longs to see
Her face and feel her soul
That only she can
Stir the love that flows
Deep in his heart
Deep in his soul

She longs to touch
His face with a kiss
With the love
That flows in the ebb of time
Deep in her heart
Deep in her soul

Then just by chance
They meet briefly in time
He knows her voice
He knows her smile
She intern knows his heart
She knows his song
They flow with love
That's been denied so long
They feel each other presences
As they each enter a room

Blinded by what they feel
They know not what to do
They are with in reach
But the reality of the world
Has made it impossible
For them to express
How they feel

They both reach out to touch
Finger tip to finger tip
The time of destiny
Ebbs and flows
They have found their souls
Complete and whole

He ask her one simple question
HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN SEACHING
Her reply is simple
Since the beginning of time

She asks him one simple question
HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN WAITING
His reply is simple
Since the beginning of time

Finally they embrace
They are one
They are whole

poem by Kaila GeorgeReport problemRelated quotes
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Good For Your Soul

Have you ever felt that somehow
You were not yourself
That your body was the same
But everything around you wasnt right
And images so strange and foreign
Flooded in like raging water
Have you ever been in love
With someone you hardly knew
Whereas every time you closed your eyes,
You saw this person come alive
It kept you wide awake at night
You felt like you were burning up
In pain, you want to scream
Then you passed out in a dream
Chorus
Just once or twice is good for your soul
Just once or twice is good for your soul
If you dont stop, youll lose control
Just once or twice is good for your soul
Every lay there half asleep all hours of the night
With some nagging demon tugging at that tiny bell
Inside your mind
When suddenly that strange idea
Bursts into an inspiration
You grab for it and then
The whole thing slips right through your fingers
Chorus
Just once or twice is good for your soul
Just once or twice is good for your soul
Just once or twice is good for your soul
Just once or twice is good for your soul
Its good for your soul
Its good for your soul
Its good for your soul
Its good for your soul

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Galileo

Galileos head was on the block
The crime was looking up for truth
And as the bombshells of my daily fears explode
I try to trace them to my youth
And then you had to bring up reincarnation
Over a couple of beers the other night
And now Im serving time for mistakes
Made by another in another lifetime
How long till my soul gets it right
Can any human being ever reach that kind of light
I call on the resting soul of galileo
King of night vision, king of insight
And then I think about my fear of motion
Which I never could explain
Some other fool across the ocean years ago
Must have crashed his little airplane
How long till my soul gets it right
Can any human being ever reach that kind of light
I call on the resting soul of galileo
King of night vision, king of insight
Im not making a joke, you know me
I take everything so seriously
If we wait for the time till all souls get it right
Then at least I know therell be no nuclear annihilation
In my lifetime Im still not right
I offer thanks to those before me
Thats all Ive got to say
cause maybe you squandered big bucks in your lifetime
Now I have to pay
But then again it feels like some sort of inspiration
To let the next life off the hook
But shell say look what I had to overcome from my last life
I think Ill write a book
How long till my soul gets it right
Can any human being ever reach the highest light
Except for galileo God rest his soul
(except for the resting soul of galileo)
King of night vision, king of insight
How long
(till my soul gets it right)
[til we reach the highest light]
How long
(till my soul gets it right)
[til we reach the highest light]
How long

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The Last Page

I always dread the last page in a book,
especially when the book was good.
So I close it up and put it aside
but some of those pages you can't hide.
They've become a memory to keep.
So the book just goes to sleep
for a while.

And some time in the future out it comes
just like a trusty old friend.
I open it up and start it once again
reading it from beginning to the end.

poem by Edwina ReizerReport problemRelated quotes
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Night Of Horror

Night draw closer
like plague,
leaving me in wonderland
for I know not where I belong.

Night‘re for victorious
Night‘re for victim.
The victim is the man;
the victory is for the witches
every night they haunt
my armedless soul. (I dread to night)

Every night‘re nightmares,
They slain my dream
and murder became the
fate of my sleep

Every night they claim
my peace;
the peace that goes with nightfall
and left me to the luxury
of nothing but fear.

Fearing for the night
fearing for nothing,
yet I'm fearing for everything
fearing, and mere fear;
fearing that tonight
they might wash
them guilty hands in my blood
like they did with Caesar's

Night are filled with everything
Yet nothing come to your aid.
Night are brighten by stars
Yet darkness crown we head
I dread night fall.

The hoots of owl
Flames my disgust
For night fall.
The noise from their vocal piece
Make me mistake my dreams
For illusions;
I dread might fall
For at night my soul
Die a thousand time before
Cockcrow.

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My Soul's Name

Going to the Akashic records up in then air
I found my Soul's book I did share.
No, not really is Zenoch my soul's name
I have to keep my real soul name a secret
it is sacred so I refrain.
My Soul's book has my hieroglyphic
for my soul also has a sound.
It is very harmonious to me I have found.
Now I will say my soul's name and go
back there once again
My soul gives me power to be my best friend.

Written by Christina Sunrise on November 11,2012

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As The Time Draws Nigh

as the time draws nigh
like how it happens to all of us
thanks it is at different times
otherwise i would have no more friends
to share my poems with
sing my love songs to
as the time draws nigh
i feel each of my verses
a diamond savlaged from
the deepest part of ground
getting scarcer and scarcer
the 640,000 lines i intend to write
through travels, love scores,
meeting with gods and goddesses
a journey to the realms
that give my poem
a special dimension
this heart afflutter
whenever i meet poets of similar sentiments
like whitman
i walk in his shoes
over places i have never been to
through his spirit
i thrive
writing poems
more for myself than anybody else
as the time draws nigh
i feel each of my verses
acquires a shine
a shine reflected from yesteryears

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Think Back, O Indian!

O Indian, O Indian!
Why not you think awhile?
How came your freedom?
How came this soil?
How came your brothers?
Why do you toil?
What’s your heritage?
What’s your love?
What’s your advantage?
Just think it now.

O Indian, O Indian!
Why don’t you muse awhile?
What makes up India?
What are its states?
What are its rivers?
Who are your mates?
Whose blood in you flows?
Who are your neighbors?
Why fight with brothers?
Just think it now.

O Indian, O Indian!
Why not you brood awhile?
What are your dangers?
What integrates?
What are your misgivings?
How do you solve?
Where’s your heart now?
Where is your soul?
Where’s your peace of mind?
Just think it now.

poem by John CelesReport problemRelated quotes
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I Learned My Literature As Myself

I learned my Literature as myself-
Kafka was my soul
In the days of my early anxiety-
Joyce was my soul
Also in literary striving -
Wordsworth my soul in calm and love of nature-
Salinger my soul
Bellow my soul
Singer my soul
Soul after soul

But when I came to write
Near the end
After all the meaning
I and all the other souls together conspired
A voice perhaps my own?

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Premonition

DEAR heart, good-night!
Nay, list awhile that sweet voice singing
When the world is all so bright,
And the sound of song sets the heart a-ringing,
Oh, love, it is not right—
Not then to say, 'Good-night.'
Dear heart, good-night!
The late winds in the lake weeds shiver,
And the spray flies cold and white.
And the voice that sings gives a telltale quiver —
'Ah, yes, the world is bright,
But, dearest heart, good-night!'
Dear heart, good-night!
And do not longer seek to hold me!
For my soul is in affright
As the fearful glooms in their pall enfold me.
See him who sang how white
And still; so, dear, good-night.
Dear heart, good-night!
Thy hand I'll press no more forever,
And mine eyes shall lose the light;
For the great white wraith by the winding river
Shall check my steps with might.
So, dear, good-night, good-night!

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Sonnet: The Cloud

Ye behold me, roaming in the blue sky!
In numerous colors and shapes awhile;
Driven by wind-power, The Cloud am I!
Floating like fleeces for many a mile.

The Rain, I bring to the thirsting earth-ball,
Heralded by peels of thunder and light;
I’m the cynosure of the skyline stall!
The stars and moon dread me during the night.

A pygmy cloud suffices moon to hide;
Sometimes, I block the sun too at noon-time;
Like skied a lion, I roar and I chide,
Bringing thunder-squalls, rain-storms, gales sometime.

I am the Cloud! If not for me the sky
Would be an artless blank page for the eye.

poem by John CelesReport problemRelated quotes
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I Dread the Silence

I need noise when I’m awake
I dread the silence when I am not asleep
It’s either pounding my eardrums with songs, music or any mp3s
or razzing it to an audio book or MTVs
Noise has been a means to cover up the reality

I dread the silence for it prods a cognizance that I’m alone despite the crowd.
I dread the silence fearing that I wake up from my self-created imaginary world
I dread the silence for fear that it made me question about my existence
I dread the silence fearing that I will hear the inner voice
clamoring and wanting to escape from this dragging circumstances

That still small voice which prefers peace
that still small voice wanting to get away from this kind of place.
that still small voice, crying from this senseless pace.
that still small voice, wanting a break from this pointless race.

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Gradually you grow into my life

Gradually you grow into my life,
you reconnoitre my body, soul and spirit
as if you are suddenly starting a new journey,
taking to the road without any fear
and on the way you become part of me
as my own wonderful wife
and before long
I am madly in love with you,
when hours suddenly escape in your presence,
when the morning comes far too suddenly after the night,
when continually I miss you when we are apart,
when small things suddenly do amaze me,
when together we take on weeks, months and years
when as the most lovely woman you are beside me.

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Lover Of My Soul

When I see the winter turning into spring
Oh, it speaks to this heart of mine
More than anything
Underneath a blanket of snow, cold and white
Something is stirring in the still of the night
And then the sun comes up, slowly with the dawn
Oh, this is the kind of feeling
That I hang my hope upon
There is love and beauty in all that I see
And no one, nobody, is explaining You to me
And maybe my eyes can't see
But You are surrounding me
Here in the wind and rain
The things that I know
Tender and sweet, and strong as my need
I know the voice, I know the touch
Lover of my soul
And when the evening comes, and sunlight fades to red
And time and time and time again
I whisper in my head
'Give me strength, give me faith', to fully believe
That the Maker of this whole, wide world
Is a Father to me
And maybe my eyes can't see
But You are surrounding me
Here in the wind and rain
The things that I know
Tender and sweet, and strong as my need
I know the voice, I know the touch
Lover of my soul
I need the voice, I need the touch
And maybe my eyes can't see
But You are surrounding me
Here in the wind and rain
The things that I know so well
Tender and sweet, and strong as my need
I know the voice, I know the touch
Lover of my soul
I know the voice, I know the touch
Lover of my soul
Talkin' to me and the things I know
Oh, You're the lover of my soul
Talkin' to me and the things I know
You are the lover of my soul
Talkin' to me and the things I know
You are the lover of my soul
In the wind, and the rain, and the snow...
You are the lover of my soul

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A Stranger in Spring Time

My soul is long elevated
At this remarkful prowess.
Did you settle in this motion?
Or toyour just path sought.
A dine with the avant-garde artist,
A night of splendor,
Upon a cloud so transfixed,
With wealth of questions scorching beneath the dinning mat.
For what reason should her path elude her taming sight?
Could the road be wayward?
I wonder so.
Her sultry innocent eyes at my naked lips flutter,
As each bawdy word reached her virgin ear,
With sensational delight.
But this night would stride forth
And the cadence cloud would at no stop halt.
So she would revisit
When this night water's under the sailing bridge,
To receive the dainty i promised. Hmm... I can tell,
Her soul is at my flirtings endeared.
Oh stranger dear,
To the coming summer i long your visit.

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Insomnia

Thin are the night-skirts left behind
By daybreak hours that onward creep,
And thin, alas! the shred of sleep
That wavers with the spirit's wind:
But in half-dreams that shift and roll
And still remember and forget,
My soul this hour has drawn your soul
A little nearer yet.

Our lives, most dear, are never near,
Our thoughts are never far apart,
Though all that draws us heart to heart
Seems fainter now and now more clear.
To-night Love claims his full control,
And with desire and with regret
My soul this hour has drawn your soul
A little nearer yet.

Is there a home where heavy earth
Melts to bright air that breathes no pain,
Where water leaves no thirst again
And springing fire is Love's new birth?
If faith long bound to one true goal
May there at length its hope beget,
My soul that hour shall draw your soul
For ever nearer yet.

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Emily Dickinson

A Book

There is no frigate like a book
To take us lands away,
Nor any coursers like a page
Of prancing poetry.
This traverse may the poorest take
Without oppress of toll;
How frugal is the chariot
That bears a human soul!

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Emily Dickinson

There is no frigate like a book

There is no frigate like a book
To take us lands away,
Nor any coursers like a page
Of prancing poetry.
This traverse may the poorest take
Without oppress of toll;
How frugal is the chariot
That bears a human soul!

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