The Shadow Of Dawn
The shadow of Dawn;
Stillness and stars and over-mastering dreams
Of Life and Death and Sleep;
Heard over gleaming flats, the old, unchanging sound
Of the old, unchanging Sea.
My soul and yours -
O, hand in hand let us fare forth, two ghosts,
Into the ghostliness,
The infinite and abounding solitudes,
Beyond--O, beyond!--beyond . . .
Here in the porch
Upon the multitudinous silences
Of the kingdoms of the grave,
We twain are you and I--two ghosts Omnipotence
Can touch no more . . . no more!
poem by William Ernest Henley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Midsummer Midnight Skies
Midsummer midnight skies,
Midsummer midnight influences and airs,
The shining, sensitive silver of the sea
Touched with the strange-hued blazonings of dawn;
And all so solemnly still I seem to hear
The breathing of Life and Death,
The secular Accomplices,
Renewing the visible miracle of the world.
The wistful stars
Shine like good memories. The young morning wind
Blows full of unforgotten hours
As over a region of roses. Life and Death
Sound on--sound on . . . And the night magical,
Troubled yet comforting, thrills
As if the Enchanted Castle at the heart
Of the wood's dark wonderment
Swung wide his valves, and filled the dim sea-banks
With exquisite visitants:
Words fiery-hearted yet, dreams and desires
With living looks intolerable, regrets
Whose voice comes as the voice of an only child
Heard from the grave: shapes of a Might-Have-Been -
Beautiful, miserable, distraught -
The Law no man may baffle denied and slew.
The spell-bound ships stand as at gaze
To let the marvel by. The grey road glooms . . .
Glimmers . . . goes out . . . and there, O, there where it fades,
What grace, what glamour, what wild will,
Transfigure the shadows? Whose,
Heart of my heart, Soul of my soul, but yours?
Ghosts--ghosts--the sapphirine air
Teems with them even to the gleaming ends
Of the wild day-spring! Ghosts,
Everywhere--everywhere--till I and you
At last--dear love, at last! -
Are in the dreaming, even as Life and Death,
Twin-ministers of the unoriginal Will.
poem by William Ernest Henley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The War of the Ghosts
Three Ghosts that haunt me have I,
Three Ghosts in my soul that fight,
Three grandsire Ghosts in my soul,
That haunt me by day and by night.
The first was a dark mountaineer,
Who hunted with arrow and knife,
To whom the turf was a bed,
And the wind of the moorland was life.
And the next was a mariner rude,
Whose home and whose grave was the sea,
For whom the land was a prison
And only the ocean was free.
And the last was a shrunken recluse,
Who lived with the dust and the gloom
And wrote of the Saints and of Him
Who went for us to His doom.
And all through the days and years
These ancient Ghosts contend,
And my soul is a battle-field
Of passions that pierce and rend.
And whenever a sunbeam alights
All gleaming and fresh on my page,
I am wild for the hills and the bush,
I am torn with the hunter's rage.
I am sick of the smell of a book,
I am off with the dogs or a gun,
Or I gallop my fifty miles
Before the set of the sun.
And yet from some loftier peak
When I look on the sea from afar,
I feel like one in a grave;
And I long for a ship full-sailed
And an ocean wide on the lee
I choke on the solid land
For the lift of the undulant sea.
Yet ever the battle goes on,
And ever there rises a day
When the Ghosts of the wave and the wood
To the Ghost of the cell give way.
Then the land is a wilderness drear,
And dismal and vast is the sea,
But cloistered in peace with my books
My soul is uplifted and free.
Three Ghosts that haunt me have I,
Three Ghosts in my soul that fight,
Three grandsire Ghosts in my soul,
That haunt me by day and by night.
Yet ofttimes there joins in the fray
One gross and sluggish of limb,
No spectre is he but a man,
Whose strokes are heavy and grim.
For a man is not nothing, I swear,
Nor a braggart am I when I boast
That though he be slothful or sleep,
A man is more than a ghost.
And my soul is my own, I aver,
The master and lord of it I,
And whenever I will to bestir,
All ghostly usurpers shall fly.
Then I what is mine will assume,
Nor diverge from the path of my will.
Though the Ghosts I have routed still call
From the desk and the sea and the hill.
poem by William Gay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
“Ghosts are for the telling”
Ghosts are for the telling,
We call them experts and impressive,
As more of them appear from the woods.
Ghosts have understood us for the rules,
So that mastering is a problem and real;
Our mothers want us to comply and so they result.
Each ghost is great in beauty,
Full of foolish whims and ideas,
Their wish is to comprehend us, even to master us.
A little ghost is no liar, but one of them,
And that degree is hidden,
For we strive to alienate it as much as we can.
The baby is asleep, the ghosts do weep,
And I am fast away in slumber;
Much are ghosts to do the enormous chatter before they die.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Faith II
THROUGH the long night, the deathlong night,
Along the dark and haunted way,
I knew your hidden face was bright--
More bright than any day.
And when the faint, insistent moan
Rose from some weed-grown wayside grave,
I said, 'I do not walk alone;
'Tis easy to be brave.
I never turned to speak with you,
For all the way was dark and long,
But all the shadows' menace through
Your silence was my song.
I never sought to take your hand,
For all the way was long and rough;
I taught my soul to understand
That love was strength enough.
Then, suddenly, the ghosts drew near,
A ghastly, gliding, tomb-white band;
I called aloud for you to hear,
My hand besought your hand.
No voice, no touch--the thin ghosts glide
Where in my dream I dreamed you were--
Night, night, you are not by my side,
You never have been there!
poem by Edith Nesbit
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
When you know ‘yourself'…. You not there to know it!
How do you know, you know yourself!
Through the spectacles of the audience
Those words not from your guts
The heresies not from your rationale…
And you are defined!
Interjections that stun…
What do you say, you are?
Thought within?
What you caught? Yourself?
Which self?
Every moment of introspection
Sprouts a new You. Then…
What do you say, you are?
Are you the self that changes?
Or are you the Change between the selves?
Since, the Change seems the sole permanence;
The Change that keeps you moving -
Movement is your nature,
That's your life - you are, then, the Change!
The Change that leads you to the Unchanging,
At that Unchanging you cease to change.
And be the Unchanging yourself.
You are thus the Change…
…till you cease to change
And become the Unchanging One!
When you know yourself…
You will not be here to know it.
The moment you know, you cease to live,
Since, you live only to discover yourself…
Life and Change be the things
Always by your side
Ask them, who you are at that moment…
Lest you must be the life
You must be the Change.
To know the Absolute you -
Imperative it is to know and experience
The every momentous you,
Good or bad, both are you -
Any ‘momentous you' if left undiscovered,
Delay the change to make you Unchanging…
Give away yourself…
Not to the ‘he' that observes you
To the Change that makes you meet your own kind
To the life that guides the change towards your varied selves
Deluded you must not get
By the scrutinizing eyes, words or thoughts
Guiding light is within you…
Hold on to it and know yourself…
The moment one claims to have known ‘his'self
Be sure ‘he' is yet not known to ‘him'self.
You cannot live to tell who you are,
That's being the very purpose of life.
Once you become what you ought to
You become no'body' in the world of ‘bodies.'
Thus, when you know yourself…. You not there to know it!
poem by Maitali Verma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Your Shield
Ghosts are willing to penetrate your shield
And converse with your intelligence,
So learned and afraid are you that it speaks.
The ghosts are like white disorders of the air,
In a haunted house your stare is looked at
And my examination of them is feared.
The ghostliness of tonight gathers storm,
Never then is the darkness to subside.
To count on their willingness
Is like trying to find something of danger.
Their actions stay and they matter like guns
And rifles of longevity.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
On the other hand, what I like my music to do to me is awaken the ghosts inside of me. Not the demons, you understand, but the ghosts.
quote by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
A Hand To Hold
A hand to hold
An ear to listen
A heart to love
A mind thoughtful
A soul to stand beside
Ever present, reliable
the unchanging desire
untroubled by the weather
steadfast through any storm
a voice gently speaking
you are not alone
for here you have
a hand to hold
poem by Matthew Holloway
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Ghost Souls
Pale ghosts against dark walls,
figures thirsting for freedom
Loveless styles force quick arrival,
one way doors heavy their souls.
Ghosts possess souls,
though dark walls do conceal.
Freedom is there
souls all cannot hear
Dimensioned freedom
exists for ghosts who thirst.
Have not these ghosts discovered
contrasting love within infinite darkness?
poem by Elizabeth Wiles
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Ghosts
Some ghosts are women,
neither abstract nor pale,
their breasts as limp as killed fish.
Not witches, but ghosts
who come, moving their useless arms
like forsaken servants.
Not all ghosts are women,
I have seen others;
fat, white-bellied men,
wearing their genitals like old rags.
Not devils, but ghosts.
This one thumps barefoot, lurching
above my bed.
But that isn't all.
Some ghosts are children.
Not angels, but ghosts;
curling like pink tea cups
on any pillow, or kicking,
showing their innocent bottoms, wailing
for Lucifer.
poem by Anne Sexton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Born As Ghosts
The hills find peace
Locked armed guard posts
Safe from the screams
Of the children born as ghosts
Gates guns and alarms
Shape the calm of the dawn
Peering down into the basin
Where death lives on
Where young run foaming at the mouth with hate
Where burning batons beat the freezing who shake
Under the toxic sunsets they dine and toast
Their walls deny the terror faced by the children
Born as ghosts
Born as ghosts
One book and forty ghosts
Stuffed in a room
The school as a tomb
Where home is a wasteland
Taste the razor wire
And thought is locked in the womb
The tales that shocks the lives off the screen
Born as ghosts
song performed by by Rage Against The Machine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
When You Wake In Your Crib
When you wake in your crib,
You, an inch of experience -
Vaulted about
With the wonder of darkness;
Wailing and striving
To reach from your feebleness
Something you feel
Will be good to and cherish you,
Something you know
And can rest upon blindly:
O, then a hand
(Your mother's, your mother's!)
By the fall of its fingers
All knowledge, all power to you,
Out of the dreary,
Discouraging strangenesses
Comes to and masters you,
Takes you, and lovingly
Woos you and soothes you
Back, as you cling to it,
Back to some comforting
Corner of sleep.
So you wake in your bed,
Having lived, having loved;
But the shadows are there,
And the world and its kingdoms
Incredibly faded;
And you group through the Terror
Above you and under
For the light, for the warmth,
The assurance of life;
But the blasts are ice-born,
And your heart is nigh burst
With the weight of the gloom
And the stress of your strangled
And desperate endeavour:
Sudden a hand -
Mother, O Mother! -
God at His best to you,
Out of the roaring,
Impossible silences,
Falls on and urges you,
Mightily, tenderly,
Forth, as you clutch at it,
Forth to the infinite
Peace of the Grave.
poem by William Ernest Henley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Resolute
Resolute
~
steady and unchanging
this is a heart of love
worn high upon shoulder
as a badge of the soul
there for the world
and every soul soul to see
time has been indifferent
wounded and healed
scarred and kissed
yet it remains in place
it beats on regardless
a heart of love forever more
steady and unchanging
now it has a name to call
a love to grow into
this is a heart
resolute
poem by Matthew Holloway
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
My Life in the bush of Ghosts (reprise)
Down the bush path
I came running down my hut
I have a pot of food
But what do I do with food
When I have no appetite
And why does life seem
To leave me so soon
.
After a few decades in life
I find my soul roaming
Aimlessly in the bush
Of ghosts, when I wasn't
Really dead.
I never believed in ghosts
Until I saw a ghost
And now, I am to be host
To a host of ghosts
In the bush of ghosts
Which I, myself have not
Come to understand
.
Things do change with time
,
I have worked very hard
To be among those who feel life
But yet, life seem to be
Very far away from me
I have said to myself
When I see life, I will grab life
With both hands
But I will not steal another
Mans life to have life
I will not bring sadness
To another to have life
I will not deceive another man
To have life
I will not seek life through the back door
For what do I gain if I
Bring sorrow to others
To gain life for my self
And what do i do with life
If life I seek to find
Will not stay with me.
poem by Efe Benjamin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Stains
The three ghosts on the lonesome road
Spake each to one another,
"Whence came that stain about your mouth
No lifted hand may cover?"
"From eating of forbidden fruit,
Brother, my brother."
The three ghosts on the sunless road
Spake each to one another,
"Whence came that red burn on your foot
No dust nor ash may cover?"
"I stamped a neighbor's hearth-flame out,
Brother, my brother."
The three ghosts on the windless road
Spake each to one another,
"Whence came that blood upon your hand
No other hand may cover?"
"From breaking of a woman's heart,
Brother, my brother."
"Yet on the earth clean men we walked,
Glutton and Thief and Lover;
White flesh and fair it hid our stains
That no man might discover."
"Naked the soul goes up to God,
Brother, my brother."
poem by Theodosia Garrison
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Glee -- The Ghosts
In life three ghostly friars were we,
And now three friarly ghosts we be.
Around our shadowy table placed,
The spectral bowl before us floats:
With wine that none but ghosts can taste,
We wash our unsubstantial throats.
Three merry ghosts--three merry ghosts--
three merry ghosts are we:
Let the ocean be Port, and we'll think it good sport
To be laid in that Red Sea.
With songs that jovial spectres chaunt,
Our old refectory still we haunt.
The traveller hears our midnight mirth:
"O list!" he cries, "the haunted choir!
"The merriest ghost that walks the earth, "
"Is sure the ghost of a ghostly friar."
Three merry ghosts--three merry ghosts--
three merry ghosts are we:
Let the ocean be Port, and we'll think it good sport
To be laid in that Red Sea.
poem by Thomas Love Peacock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Yesterdays Ghosts
Everywhere I go;
there are the ghosts of yesterday.
They inhabit everything we see.
Their presence is felt
within every step we take.
The ghosts of yesterday
watch over us.
We may not be able to see them,
but we at times we know they are there.
Who are these ghosts of yesterday,
friends, relations, acquaintances
we met along the way.
I do not know the answer
and it is not for me to say.
All I know is they are there,
the ghosts of yesterday
19-20 October 2008
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Unchanging Law
Jesus is God, this I proclaim, and Jesus as God, remains the same,
Two as one may sound strange, but, Jesus as God doesn’t change;
The Law God had fingered in stone, today, is Law for all of His own,
Laws given to Moses on Mt. Sinai, were instituted also for you and I.
Our Lord today, in who we trust, remains today, both Pure and Just,
The Law that was given to Israel, is the basis of God’s present Rule,
Of The Law, that God has willed, every jot and tittle shall be fulfilled,
And Christ, as the unchanging God, shall return to rule with Iron Rod.
But, many who profess His Name, do not view God’s Law the same,
Ignoring all that led to Israel’s fall, they make changes to God’s Law,
Adopting what God calls idolatry, they provoke The God of Eternity,
Not recalling He’s a jealous God, they condone the idols, with a nod.
God’s pure Justice will not be denied, in this Age that we now reside,
For God has His unchanging plan, that includes every believing man,
Even as we’re in the Age of Grace, His Law remains for men of faith,
God’s not subject to changing rules, instituted by the religious fools.
The Law that God has put in place, carries through the Age of Grace,
An unchanging standard of Justice, to be enforced, by Christ Jesus,
God’s Truth, not in part but whole, shall be used to judge every soul,
As we all stand before Jesus Christ, The Only Author of Eternal Life.
(Copyright ©02/2010)
Horace To Maecenas
How breaks my heart to hear you say
You feel the shadows fall about you!
The gods forefend
That fate, O friend!
I would not, I could not live without you!
You gone, what would become of me,
Your shadow, O beloved Maecenas?
We've shared the mirth--
And sweets of earth--
Let's share the pangs of death between us!
I should not dread Chinaera's breath
Nor any threat of ghost infernal;
Nor fear nor pain
Should part us twain--
For so have willed the powers eternal.
No false allegiance have I sworn,
And, whatsoever fate betide you,
Mine be the part
To cheer your heart--
With loving song to fare beside you!
Love snatched you from the claws of death
And gave you to the grateful city;
The falling tree
That threatened me
Did Fannus turn aside in pity;
With horoscopes so wondrous like,
Why question that we twain shall wander,
As in this land,
So, hand in hand,
Into the life that waiteth yonder?
So to your shrine, O patron mine,
With precious wine and victims fare you;
Poor as I am,
A humble lamb
Must testify what love I bear you.
But to the skies shall sweetly rise
The sacrifice from shrine and heather,
And thither bear
The solemn prayer
That, when we go, we go together!
poem by Eugene Field
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Vanishing Race
(graham russell, michael sherwood, larry antonio)
Sun, I cant slow you down
Run, build on sacred ground
All of the leaves have blown away
Ghosts on a distant highway
In a vanishing race
Sleep, if your eyes must close
Weep, over a poisoned rose
Soon all the tears will blow away
Dust on a distant highway
In the vanishing race
Fly, closer to the sun
Fight, till your world is one
Soon all the stars will burn away
Ghosts on a different highway
In the vanishing race
Oh, shall we sleep tonight
Oh, when theres no hope in sight
Take all your dreams and drive away
Smoke on a distant highway
From the vanishing race
All my people
Respect your mother earth
Thank you for this life and this breath
And all my peoples strength
song performed by by Air Supply
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!