To One of our wounded
Old Man, by your broad contented grin
And the gleam in your quiet eyes,
You are back with 'Jorrocks' and 'Binjimin'
In the land where the good fun lies;
You are riding where rifles reach you not
On a line both safe and sure
From the meet at the 'Cat and Custard Pot'
To the kill on Wandermoor.
In vain do the cannon of memory call
From the Flanders fields forlorn,
When you hear by the stacks of Barley Hall
The twang of the ''ard un's' horn;
And little you reck of a broken thigh
And a bandaged arm to boot,
When the old comedian canters by
On his 'henterpriseless brute.'
For, back to you comes each sound and sight
At a touch of the magic pen,
Till you take your place in the old first flight,
With a lead on the grass again,
And Surtees, the sage with the jester's art,
Would be proud had he lived to know
He had brightened an hour for your gallant heart
With the ring of his 'Tally-ho!'
poem by William Henry Ogilvie
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Let Your Fingers Do The Walking
Back in the days of covered wagons
A man had his own way
Whether talkin' to a woman
Or crossing the U.S.A.
No telephones were ringing
No angry words exchanged.
I wish I was back in the saddle now
Riding on the range.
Let your fingers do the walking
Call me up some time
I'm listed under Broken Hearts
Looking for a good time.
I can't reach out and touch you
You're hung up on the line
I'm your disconnected number now
And you're a private line.
Well, I used to be so happy,
When you gave good 'phone.
I could call you up from anywhere
For a little bit of home
But now my heart is aching
After every call
By the way you talk you'd think
You never gave good 'phone at all.
Let your fingers do the walking
Call me up some time
I'm listed under Broken Hearts
Looking for a good time.
I can't reach out and touch you
You're hung up on the line
I'm your disconnected number now
And you're a private line.
Let your fingers do the walking
Call me up some time
I'm listed under Broken Hearts.
Looking for a good time.
I can't reach out and touch you
You're hung up on the line
I'm your disconnected number now
And you're a private line.
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fingers
Back in the days of covered wagons
A man had his own way
Whether talkin' to a woman
Or crossing the U.S.A.
No telephones were ringing
No angry words exchanged.
I wish I was back in the saddle now
Riding on the range.
Let your fingers do the walking
Call me up some time
I'm listed under Broken Hearts
Looking for a good time.
I can't reach out and touch you
You're hung up on the line
I'm your disconnected number now
And you're a private line.
Well, I used to be so happy,
When you gave good 'phone.
I could call you up from anywhere
For a little bit of home
But now my heart is aching
After every call
By the way you talk you'd think
You never gave good 'phone at all.
Let your fingers do the walking
Call me up some time
I'm listed under Broken Hearts
Looking for a good time.
I can't reach out and touch you
You're hung up on the line
I'm your disconnected number now
And you're a private line.
Let your fingers do the walking
Call me up some time
I'm listed under Broken Hearts.
Looking for a good time.
I can't reach out and touch you
You're hung up on the line
I'm your disconnected number now
And you're a private line.
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Good Phone
Back in the days of covered wagons
A man had his own way
Whether talkin to a woman
Or crossing the u.s.a.
No telephones were ringing
No angry words exchanged.
I wish I was back in the saddle now
Riding on the range.
Let your fingers do the walking
Call me up some time
Im listed under broken hearts
Looking for a good time.
I cant reach out and touch you
Youre hung up on the line
Im your disconnected number now
And youre a private line.
Well, I used to be so happy,
When you gave good phone.
I could call you up from anywhere
For a little bit of home
But now my heart is aching
After every call
By the way you talk youd think
You never gave good phone at all.
Let your fingers do the walking
Call me up some time
Im listed under broken hearts
Looking for a good time.
I cant reach out and touch you
Youre hung up on the line
Im your disconnected number now
And youre a private line.
Let your fingers do the walking
Call me up some time
Im listed under broken hearts.
Looking for a good time.
I cant reach out and touch you
Youre hung up on the line
Im your disconnected number now
And youre a private line.
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Right Sort
We have hustled that litter in Heatherlie Whin,
Two crouch in the bracken, two dodge in the corn,
But the fifth one as swift as the shadow of sin
Was away when he heard the first note of the horn.
He skimmed the broad meadow in front of us all
With his brush in the air and his mask to the moor,
Looking back with a grin from the top of the wall
Ere he dropped to the heather cool, safe, and secure.
His brothers and sisters will fall by the way;
They'll be harried and headed and chopped in a ride;
But this one will live for a galloping day
And lead us and pound us and scatter us wide.
Let him travel! – a good one. We’ll meet him again
When the fields in the dusk of December are dressed;
We shall need all our courage to follow him then,
When he steals o’er the open, a fox of the best.
poem by William Henry Ogilvie
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Jester of Joy
I am the Jester of Joy,
A nomad of peace,
From the Land of Not.
Entertainer of souls,
A servant to man.
I am the Jester of Joy,
Mine is to spread joy through the world.
I make they who smile, laugh,
They who sulk, smile,
And I can try the tears of they who cry.
I am the Jester of Joy,
I reach out to touch at least one person,
To touch their heart with love.
I strive to touch for at least a moment,
To fill their life with joy.
I am the Jester of Joy,
And I have dream,
Of the world seeing as I do,
Through the eyes of joy,
For the better world it would be.
I am the Jester of Joy,
This is my purpose, my life, me.
For I am a servant to man,
Entertainer of souls,
The Jester of Joy.
poem by Steven SRS
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Widower
For a season there must be pain--
For a little, little space
I shall lose the sight of her face,
Take back the old life again
While She is at rest in her place.
For a season this pain must endure,
For a little, little while
I shall sigh more often than smile
Till time shall work me a cure,
And the pitiful days beguile.
For that season we must be apart,
For a little length of years,
Till my life's last hour nears,
And, above the beat of my heart,
I hear Her voice in my ears.
But I shall not understand--
Being set on some later love,
Shall not know her for whom I strove,
Till she reach me forth her hand,
Saying, "Who but I have the right?"
And out of a troubled night
Shall draw me safe to the land.
poem by Rudyard Kipling
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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We've Got The Magic
All I need is a place in my heart
To keep me happy 'til the day I die
All I want is a place in my soul
To reach up far and touch the sky
It's magic
We've got the smile that'll make you laugh (ha)
A special way to show you it's real
Some people think it's a touch of class
But you know it's just the way we feel
It's magic
We've got the magic, deep in our souls
We've got the magic, to play rock-n-roll
We've got the magic, to never grow old
Can't you hear the sound, in the air
Can't wait to show this magic inside
Gonna bust out and spread it wide
Can't you hear what we're trying to say
Feeling's gettin' stronger everyday
It's magic
We've got the magic, deep in our souls
We've got the magic, to play rock-n-roll
We've got the magic, to never grow old
Can't you hear the sound, in the air (whoa yeah)
We've got the magic, deep in our souls (yeah)
We've got the magic, to play rock-n-roll
We've got the magic, we'll never grow old
We've got the magic
We've got the magic
We've got the magic
You've got the magic
So take it on home
We've got the magic, deep in our souls
We've got the magic, to play rock-n-roll
We've got the magic, it's magic, magic (whoa-oh)
song performed by by Quiet Riot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Flanders
Flanders, the name of a place, a country of people,
Spells itself with letters, is written in books.
"Where is Flanders?" was asked one time,
Flanders known only to those who lived there
And milked cows and made cheese and spoke the home language.
"Where is Flanders?" was asked.
And the slang adepts shot the reply: Search me.
A few thousand people milking cows, raising radishes,
On a land of salt grass and dunes, sand-swept with a sea-breath on it:
This was Flanders, the unknown, the quiet,
The place where cows hunted lush cuds of green on lowlands,
And the raw-boned plowmen took horses with long shanks
Out in the dawn to the sea-breath.
Flanders sat slow-spoken amid slow-swung windmills,
Slow-circling windmill arms turning north or west,
Turning to talk to the swaggering winds, the childish winds,
So Flanders sat with the heart of a kitchen girl
Washing wooden bowls in the winter sun by a window.
poem by Carl Sandburg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Angered Heart
I cant stand this any more
all she wants to do is fight
or that's what it seems like
why cant she just speak any good words
who has that much evil in them
I don't know why I even care
the house is in his name the land to
so is the car and us kids wont be going with her
if they split up
only if Ethan goes with her witch I highly doubt I will go with him
I'm not going to have that boy go with her alone
no way
the first time she fucking touches him I will call the cops
because that's not cool at all so if she wants us she better not touch anyone of us
cause I'm sick of it
I'm sick of her hurting Ethan and just sitting there not doing anything about it
I'm sick of just taking it not fighting back
that's not right
sick of the way she yells at us just to blow off steam every day
sick of hiding my true feelings
she makes me want to run away and\or kill myself
why don't I
a hand full of reasons
I have my baby brother that if I ran away she would kill him
my dog I love her so much and she would die with out me
or I let myself believe because with out her
I would have a broken heart and would die anyway
my education I need it to beet her
to show her that anyone even me could make something good
for a job to support me and my other half (him)
I think that's about all
when I turn 18 I have about 30 days left and I will start packing
taking stuff to Washington soon after that on the weekends
to lead a better life with out her
but I will come back to visit everyone else but her
until I can forgive my her for what she has done to Ethan over the years
I cant come back to see her
if I do my flaming in anger heart would explode
with so much fury
I would kill her
poem by Mrs. Cynosure
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In Flanders Field
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie,
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
poem by John McCrae
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Back Before The War
(dan hill, keith stegall, robin wiley)
Stacks of paper, my name in bold print
Yours right besides it on this document
Too many lawyers, too many angry words
So much we didnt say, so much we never heard
Do you remember
When I was all that you were living for
Back before the war
Chorus:
Back before the broken vows
The shattered trust, this empty house
When nothing really mattered but us
Back before we climbed too high
My dreams were yours, your dreams were mine
Back before we fell so out of touch
Back before the war
Childrens laughter trailing down the hall
Tiny footsteps, God how I miss it all
Its not as simple as whos right and whos to blame
How could we fly so high to be shot down in flames
Do you remember
When you were all that I was living for
Back before the war
Repeat chorus
Stacks of paper, I guess this is where we sign
Strange how your signature so closely matches mine
I never dreamed our love would ever come to this
Avoiding each others eyes still craving your tenderness
Do you remember
When love was all that we were living for
Back before the war
Back before the war
song performed by by Reba Mcentire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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World That I See
In a country that we call home
in a land that's skin and bone
there's a place that's hardly known.
Mountains appearing with the sun
rivers of light they westward run
night is draining from the firmament.
Railway fettler broken down
on a branch line somewhere south
off the map and off the world.
There is no end to the world that I see
there is no end to the world that I see.
As we swing from star to star
we're not going very far
the land is hard and gives no quarter.
The o'cannon garrison falls down
you cannot hear the church bell sound
the sun beats down and gives no sanctuary.
As sure as I stand on this place
the spirit comes
let lightning strike and leave no trace.
song performed by by Midnight Oil
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Songs of the Lathes
The fans and the beltings they roar round me.
The power is shaking the floor round me
Till the lathes pick up their duty and the midnight-shift takes over.
It is good for me to be here!
Guns in Flanders--Flanders guns!
(I had a man that worked 'em once!)
Shells for guns in Flanders, Flanders!
Shells for guns in Flanders, Flanders!
Shells for guns in Flanders! Feeds the guns!
The cranes and the carriers they boom over me,
The bays and the galleries they loom over me,
With their quarter-mile of pillars growing little in the distance--
It is good for me to be here!
The Zeppelins and Gothas they raid over us.
Our lights give warning, and fade over us.
(Seven thousand women keeping quiet in the darkness!)
Oh, it's good for me to be here.
The roofs and the buildings they grow round me,
Eating up the fields I used to know round me;
And the shed that I began in is a sub-inspector's office--
So long have I been here!
I've seen six hundred mornings make our lamps grow dim,
Through the bit that isn't painted round our sky-light rim,
And the sunshine through the window slope according to the seasons,
Twice since I've been here.
The trains on the sidings they call to us
With the hundred thousand blanks that they haul to us;
And we send 'em what we've finished, and they take it where it's wanted,
For that is why we are here!
Man's hate passes as his love will pass.
God made Woman what she always was.
Them that bear the burden they will never grant forgiveness
So long as they are here!
Once I was a woman, but that's by with me.
All I loved and looked for, it must die with me;
But the Lord has left me over for a servant of the Judgment,
And I serve His Judgments here!
Guns in Flanders--Flanders guns!
(I had a son that worked 'em once!)
Shells for guns in Flanders, Flanders!
Shells for guns in Flanders, Flanders!
Shells for guns in Flanders! Feeds the guns!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Aerodrome
So now the aerodrome goes up
Upon my father's fields,
And gone is all the golden crop
And all the pleasant yields.
They tear the trees up, branch and root,
They kill the hedges green,
As though some force, malign and brute,
Ravaged the peace serene.
There where he used to sit and gaze
With blue and quiet eyes,
Watching his comely cattle graze,
The walls begin to rise.
What place for robin or for wren,
For thrush and blackbird's call?
Now there shall be but flying men
Nor any bird at all.
'Twas well he did not stay to know,
Defaced and all defiled
The quiet fields of long ago,
Dear to him as a child.
But when the tale was told to me
I felt such piercing pain,
They tore my heart up with the tree
That will not leaf again.
poem by Katharine Tynan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Aerodrome
So now the aerodrome goes up
Upon my father's fields,
And gone is all the golden crop
And all the pleasant yields.
They tear the trees up, branch and root,
They kill the hedges green,
As though some force, malign and brute,
Ravaged the peace serene.
There where he used to sit and gaze
With blue and quiet eyes,
Watching his comely cattle graze,
The walls begin to rise.
What place for robin or for wren,
For thrush and blackbird's call?
Now there shall be but flying men
Nor any bird at all.
'Twas well he did not stay to know,
Defaced and all defiled
The quiet fields of long ago,
Dear to him as a child.
But when the tale was told to me
I felt such piercing pain,
They tore my heart up with the tree
That will not leaf again.
poem by Katharine Tynan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Queen Of My Heart
[Kian:]
So here we stand
In our secret place
With a sound of the crowd
So far away
And you take my hand
And it feels like home
We both understand
It's where we belong
[Bryan:]
So how do I say?
Do I say goodbye?
We both have our dreams
We both wanna fly
So let's take tonight
To carry us through
The lonely times
[CHORUS:]
[All:]
I'll always look back
As I walk away
This memory
Will last for eternity
And all of our tears
Will be lost in the rain
When I've found my way
Back to your arms again
But until that day
You know you are
The queen of my heart
[Bryan:]
Queen of my heart
[Shane:]
So let's take tonight
And never let go
While dancing we'll kiss
Like there's no tomorrow
As the stars sparkle down
Like a diamond ring
I'll treasure this moment
Till we meet again
[Mark: (All:)]
But no matter how far
(Matter how far)
Or where you may be
(Where you may be)
I just close my eyes
(I just close my eyes)
And you're in my dreams
And there you will be
Until we meet
[Repeat chorus twice]
[Shane: (All:)]
Oh yeah
You're the
Queen of my heart
(Of my heart)
No matter
How many years it takes
(Queen of my heart)
I'll give it all to you
Oh yeah
(Queen of my heart)
Oh yes you are
The queen of my heart
song performed by by Westlife from World Of Our Own
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Back Where I Come From
In the town where I was raised
Clock ticks and the cattle graze
Time passed with amazing grace
Back where I come from.
You can lie on a riverbank
Paint your name on a water tank
Miss count all the beers you drank
Back where I come from.
Back where I come from,
Where Ill be when it is said and done,
Im proud as anyone thats where I come from.
We learned in a sunday school
Just who made the sun shine through
I know who made the moon shine too
Back where I come from
Blue eyes on a saturday night
Tan legs in the broad daylight
Tvs they were black and white
Back where I come from
Back where I come from,
Where Ill be when it is said and done,
Im proud as anyone thats where I come from.
Some say its a backwards place
Narrow minds on a narrow race
But I make it a point to say thats where I come from.
Thats where I come from,
Where Ill be when it is said and done,
Im proud as anyone thats where I come from.
Thats where I come from
Im an old tennesseean
I am as proud as any one thats where I come from
Back where I come from
Back where I come from
Back where I come from
song performed by by Kenny Chesney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Come Back Home!
Come back Father!
come back Home!
see your daughter
come back home
request is long,
though words are meager,
heart is tired,
eyes are eager,
to see you again
but cannot find
a single glimpse of your face
full of grace...
O! kind and tender!
come back home...
with your image
dreams are pregnant
dreams are rich
but inadequate,
for this craving heart.
i have portraits of your figure fine
but these photos are unkind.
they don't let
your tender hands
reach my head.
so come back home...
why don't you hear
my mute cries...?
tho' these are knocking
upon the higher skies.
don't you know
that in my heart
your memory lies.
my anxious soul
and silent sighs
call you Father
come back Home...
see your daughter
come back Home...
poem by Shahzia Batool
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Whale Song
The sun was in clouds. The sun looked out. Exposed a trail of mist and spouts.
Ships followed the ancient lead. Deceiving friends under the sea.
Wow, imagine that? They won't fight back. I got a theory on that.
dark.
They won't fight back. I'm sure they know how. Means they love or are too proud.
They won't fight back. I'm sure they know how. Means they love or too proud.
They swim. It's really free. It's a beautiful thing to see. They sing.
Hunters of land. Hunters of sea. Exploit anything for money.
I refer to anybody that takes advantage of what that is free.
They won't fight back.
your sight.
Take what you want. Kill what you can. That's just one way of the mind of man.
Take their lives. Sell their parts but there is not taking of their hearts.
to be.
They won't fight back. (x5)
They don't know how.
They won't fight back. (x3)
song performed by by Pearl Jam
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Before You Kill Us All
Intro - must be doin something wrong baby I dont know
But the gold fish are floating at the top of the bowl
And the dog he wont eat he just lays around
All night long he makes a lonesome sound
I know I had it coming and its all my fault
But baby come back
Before you kill us all
The way the plants are dyin youd swear its fall
Looks just like autumn up and down the hall
And I talk to em baby like you sposed to do
But theyre tired of hearing how Im missin you
And I know you told me not to call
But baby come back
Before you kill us all
Well its a desperate situation
I got a strong will to survive
But if this place is any indication
I may not make it out on time
Solo
Well its an eerie feeling in the still of the night
Knowin that the cats down to three more lives
Youve turned as all into nervous wrecks
We just sit around and wanderin whos goin to be next
And I know I had it coming and its all my fault
But baby come back
Before you kill us all
Baby come back
Before you kill us all
Baby come back
Baby come back
Before you kill us all
Fade out........baby come back
song performed by by Randy Travis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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