Even As A Dragon’s Eye That Feels The Stress
EVEN as a dragon's eye that feels the stress
Of a bedimming sleep, or as a lamp
Suddenly glaring through sepulchral damp,
So burns yon Taper 'mid a black recess
Of mountains, silent, dreary, motionless:
The lake below reflects it not; the sky,
Muffled in clouds, affords no company
To mitigate and cheer its loneliness.
Yet, round the body of that joyless Thing
Which sends so far its melancholy light,
Perhaps are seated in domestic ring
A gay society with faces bright,
Conversing, reading, laughing;--or they sing,
While hearts and voices in the song unite.
poem by William Wordsworth
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Related quotes
A Dream Fallen Out Of Sleep
Outside the abode of our sleep
Somewhere a dream burns
Somewhere tears sparkle
Somewhere a moon smoulders
Outside the abode of our sleep
Somewhere the sun rises
Somewhere the black beauty - night
Street walks
Somewhere an earthen lamp
Hides behind a facade
Outside the abode or our sleep
Somewhere bright birds flutter
Somewhere beasts of prey prowl
Somewhere there's a memory - forest
A desert there is - and a watershed
Somewhere a snowscape burns
Outside the abode of our sleep
Somewhere there's a cloud-burst
Eyes stare in longing
Somewhere in the ocean of the heart
Someone burns to a dry death
Outside the abode of our sleep
Somewhere two flowers bloom
Somewhere we see each other every day
Somewhere the wounds are sutured
Outside the abode of our sleep
Somewhere a roof is lit up
A door is afire
Somewhere hidden
Somewhere revealed
Outside the abode of our sleep
A dream burns.
Poem by: Naseer Ahmed Nasir,1979.
Translated from Urdu into English by Dr. Satyapal Anand
Copyrights (C) All rights reserved.
poem by Naseer Ahmed Nasir
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Suddenly Silence
Where there was communication,
Suddenly silence.
Where there was conversation,
Suddenly silence.
Where there was interaction,
Suddenly silence.
Where there were possibilities,
Suddenly silence.
Where there was happiness,
Suddenly silence.
So where have you gone,
That suddenly you are silent?
What is your reason that
Suddenly you are silent?
How will I know why
You are suddenly silent?
Must I be suddenly silent, too?
(4.30.7 Inner Thoughts (PFD))
poem by Heather Z. Hanna
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Entering The Hall
a lousy day
something is dreary
life is damp and disturbingly wet,
as i enter the hall
where two old men are talking
deaf perhaps
they are shouting about
how life can be so dragging
when i go near them
they look at me with disdain
envious perhaps
about how i have not aged much
because i am smiling
inside it is damp and wet and dreary
but outside i show something warm
the sun and the gentle wind
i am hurt but i never utter the word
of your common complaint.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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SILENT KILLER...by Talile Ali
7 bar intro
Am
STRESS WILL KILL YOU
IT WILL THRILL YOU
IT WILL FILL YOU
WITH THE DREAD G/D
Am
STRESS WILL HURT YOU
BOUND AND DIRT YOU
DRIVE YOU TILL YOU
ARE ALL DEAD G/D
D Am
SILENT AS A VIPER
G Am
DEALIER THAN A SCHEME
D Am
ALWAYS ON YOUR SHOULDER
G Am
NEVER PLAYING CLEAN
F - SILENT KILLER
C - THAT'S IT'S WAY
G - STRESS WILL BEST YOU
Am - TAKE YOUR LIFE AWAY
F - SILENT KILLER
C - ONE THE MOVE TODAY
G- WORK YOUR CONSCIOUS
- TILL YOU DIE AWAY- Am
Am - SILENT KILLER
JAM for 7 bars
F/C
COULD BE A WIFE WHO SCREAMS AND YELLS
G/Am
COULD BE A MAN WHO'S LIVING A HELL
COULD BE A CHILD WHO'S NEVER SAID A WORD
COULD BE A FRIEND WHO IS TOTALLY ABSURD
COULD BE THE PEOPLE YOU KNOW AND LOVE
COULD BE A LOT OF THINGS THAT COME FROM ABOVE
COULD BE YOU COMING OVER TO SEE ME
COULD BE A LIFE OF WHAT COULD BE
Am
SILENT KILLER
poem by Talile Ali
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The Dark Night
There is darkness everywhere,
the night is darker than black,
strange shadows loom on the wall,
as light flickers and flutters
on the oil lamp
The merciless wind is blowing hard,
harder than ever it was,
sharp like a sword,
piercing and reaming my raw wounds,
the flame on the lamp flutters violently
and then is blown off.
The wind smiles and then suddenly it is gone.
I light my lamp again.
poem by Dr Madhavi Grace
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The Lamp burns sure—within
233
The Lamp burns sure—within—
Tho' Serfs—supply the Oil—
It matters not the busy Wick—
At her phosphoric toil!
The Slave—forgets—to fill—
The Lamp—burns golden—on—
Unconscious that the oil is out—
As that the Slave—is gone.
poem by Emily Dickinson
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Little Ode
Tufted like whips
vines taper down
in wobbly bliss.
Grapeskins
pulled so thin
one can see in and in.
Wine runs out
the spiggots and spouts
of this duchy.
The inn has no more rooms-
three, maybe four
sleep on the floor.
There has been a warning:
in a lamp of fog
a bell tolling.
All the grain is in-
the wind turns cold.
what shall I do?
Tu Fu,
Li Po,
where shall
I go?
poem by Morgan Michaels
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A Lamp In Us!
The small lamp commenced to burn,
When two bodies united as one,
From the day one until the day yet to know,
The lamp burns slowly in the spirit of ions.
Keeping the lamp safe from rough climes,
Protecting the yarn from the heavy dye,
Nourishing the lamp with fuels approved,
The lamp may burn quietly as expected.
we let it burn with bigger flame,
By adding steroidal fuels and nocturnal fun,
we let the motor to run in higher speed,
by pressing the temptation to accelerate.
The lamp may start to play snake and ladder,
By climbing up and down at the dice of illnesses,
Sometimes gets overheated to jam up the motor,
Hold your lamp lovingly for it to glow pleasantly.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Dragon At The Top
A dragon still is born in here,
Ferocious dragon so,
One mighty danger to appear
In all the land we bow.
A mountain made my sleep to care
And worked mine or his
Despair, so oddly strange affair,
That bleared the right old quiz.
His furnace sold a sage to write
And read for him alone,
The massive dragon did backbite
This lonely clone of bone.
Offended pride successfully
Refused him, this trip
Of one absurd dichotomy,
A stay in hell to dip.
The dragon forced his way atop,
Real ways so suddenly
Wore clothes to also make him stop
In this way evenly.
The beast must stop and hide somewhere,
Or phantoms cite danger,
Then dedicate the sense with care,
Or ghosts will win stranger.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Breakaway
(chuckle? )
The loud mornin in the small town cries
You gotta get away
And someones throwin in the prize
They dont wanna stay
The streets are quiet like the stars
Moonlight puts on a chill
You gotta get yourself outta here
You always ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ha
Oh black rider feels alright
Oh persian dreams china white
Where you gonna go tonight
You gotta breakaway
Well you gotta breakaway
Uh people move between themselves
Without on purpose touching
Always nearly dark and frantic
In the corner people clutching
The dance-o-rama it burns ? ? ? ? ?
Hiding screams of passion
The nightwatch city it melts away
Oh keepin up with fashion
Oh black rider feels alright
Oh persian dreams china white
Oo, where you gonna stay tonight
You gotta breakaway
You gotta breakaway
Oh black rider feels alright
Come on chase the dragon
Time is tight=20
Time is tight
You gotta breakaway
Breakaway
Oh time is tight
Yeah
Time is so tight
You gotta breakaway
You gotta breakaway
song performed by by Cars
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tsunami's passing
The wave has come, now she has past, hush.
Her power, her might, her silent extinguishing strength.
Shhh, lie down, lie down, and sleep.
No longer are you alone, hush.
The four riders black, devestation, they come hush.
Now you can sleep, sleep the best sleep.
No more screaming, no crying, no pain, just sleep.
Sleep, sleep, sleep, sleep, shhh!
poem by William Flemming
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Outside331’sSleep
Don’t open your eyes yet not until I explain last night I went to bed with Sleep last night I fell for Sleep last night Sleep unclothed me left me naked in a room painted black I couldn’t see Sleep because Sleep was dark too and the room was black and the foreground blended in with the background I couldn’t tell what was far and what was close I became frustrated because Sleep was either hiding inside the room or the room was hiding behind Sleep neither were being fair to my eyes who wanted to play hide and go Sleep I hide inside the room and Sleep seeks I said where are you Sleep I can’t see you my eyes can’t find you Sleep I said I wanted to fall inside you brought me into this black room and I am trying to wrap myself around you won’t you come inside of me you won’t stage scenes in my eyes created with color everything is black one long stretch Sleep are you moving and I can’t see you or are you standing still and I can’t feel you are here Sleep you are silent Sleep I feel alone Sleep I want you to be inside me if you take me to a black room and make me go to bed are your eyes open I can’t see you did you leave is Sleep here Sleep am I inside you explain Sleep explain did you open your eyes Sleep are my eyes open Sleep are you outside me Sleep you took me to bed and left me Sleep I can’t open my eyes until you are back inside me I can’t see Sleep when you’re not inside me open your eyes Sleep do you see me inside you explain last night am I still inside Sleep?
(12-13-07)
poem by Chelsea Trescott
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The Morning Watch
'Tis near the morning watch, the dim lamp burns
But scarcely shows how dark the slumbering street;
No sound of life the silent mart returns;
No friends from house to house their neighbors greet;
It is the sleep of death; a deeper sleep
Than e'er before on mortal eyelids fell;
No stars above the gloom their places keep;
No faithful watchmen of the morning tell;
Yet still they slumber on, though rising day
Hath through their windows poured the awakening light;
Or, turning in their sluggard trances, say—
'There yet are many hours to fill the night;'
They rise not yet; while on the bridegroom goes
'Till he the day's bright gates forever on them close!
poem by Jones Very
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Princess And The Black Horse-IV(Isle Of Dragon)
'O, O Princess, this place unknown, inmates may harm,
come back, dear, we have to save your father's life.'
He followed her and going far reached at a cave,
where thick bushes, and weeds, clambers only did thrive.
What did he see, just imagine it's beyond our reach!
A dragon with his fiery mouth, was gasping fast.
The princess there was watching him as mesmerized.
The dragon seemed as if ill, in sporadic dust.
He noticed scars all over his wounded skin.
The dragon then signalled them beside to sit.
A bluish grume was coming out his scarred body.
Excited was he that they could hear his heart-beat.
Softy Princess, in keen sadness, uttered sotto voce-
'Oh! my Gosh! save good dragon with thine power! '
and took out dust that could cure fatal bruise,
(the wizard told) and put that on for an hour.
The dragon felt comfort and told his sad life story...
They used to live happily in that isle until Evilo
dragon, started living with them and mischievously
spoiled peace of mind, the mirth, laughter, smile Oh! .
Last night they had a final fight in which defeated he!
The island dragons fled in fear thinking half-dead!
Alone he was waiting death, and praying to Fire God.
Blackberry then fanned him and princess kissed on head.
The Sun was then going down, down the ding-dong mount.
Woh! just, just then Blackberry turned into a black horse!
The princess then, lit taper from the dragon's mouth's fire,
and told dragon to take long rest and forbade to remorse.
poem by Nilakshi Das
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Stress
When stress gets me, I’m not alone;
It strikes almost everyone;
Be they my kith or kin or spouse,
Relatives, neighbors near my house.
When stress attacks, I’m not alone,
It affects all known / unknown;
Be they friends or strangers or foes,
In office, class-room or indoors.
When stress hooks me, I transmit it
To those around by habit;
It spares no one, however great,
Almost everyone is its bait!
When stress gets me, I avoid it
And train my mind to remain fit;
Worrying, hurrying will not suffice;
Stress is a leading, lethal vice!
When stress gets me, I ignore it,
Expecting things to ease a bit;
A certain stress is good for health;
Ov’rstress is bad as excess wealth!
When stress gets me, I’m angry;
My house-hold pets too go hungry;
My garden plants get no water;
My world gets shrunk- it does matter!
When stress gets me, I can’t sleep;
Engulfed’s my heart in sadness deep;
I must relax/ do exercise;
This is the distressing device!
poem by John Celes
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I’m just running
So cool so provoking wind blowing up my face
As if trying to wake me up
But I’m just running along with the train
Blinking and glaring outside not to find anyone
Just glaring
Different stations are passing
Different sellers selling their merchandise
Caring nothing; just glaring
But still trying to find someone
No not but yes, maybe
In return getting nothing but a pinch of delight
Accumulating it just running
So fast so slow sometimes
Breathtaking landscapes, rivers, mountains
Just wonderful
Falling down sun giving me nothing
But a note of unknown happiness
Just gulping it running
Then came the stars twinkling
Maybe trying to show a drama
Enjoying it, each and every bit of it
I’m just running
Just running along with the train
poem by Farooq Hussain
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Here we go passing by
`
Coal-bright heat
pulsates a primal beat,
this light burns white
in the squalid night.
The windswept fury
in a drunken flurry,
toppled kerosene lamp
leaves the table damp.
Morning slips in sly,
waking the bleary eye;
pollen grain breezes
peddles raucous sneezes.
`
poem by Frederick Kesner
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The Last Train
She was waiting for the last train,
under the lamp light.
The rain drizzled
and the lamp made shadows
on a damp grey wall and as it did
ghostly figures loomed,
spookily, highlighting
the loneliness of the night.
Passing the time, she read posters
‘drink this beer, buy that car,
holiday in Spain.
She shivered, wet, tired,
no umbrella, wearing a
thin plastic Mac.
As her train pulled away,
she snuggled up inside a carriage.
Looking out of its window,
there, against the damp wall
was a tramp, dirty, ragged,
silently swigging Meths,
no coat, no train ticket,
drinking his damnation.
poem by Ruth Walters
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I Pinch But Flesh Does Not Answer
I pinch but flesh does not answer
I know I do not have long here
A wave of hesitation washes wonderfully over
On your face a serene smile
But you are silent
I steel a breath and drift to your side, through the daisies and buttercups
Innermost mind more endless than the universe
But trustily it searches for our favourite haunt
You smell so very real and for a tenuous moment I am content
My weightless body feels small, wrapped in the memory of your arms
You cup my face in your familiar hand and I taste my tears
You never left me, did you? You did? oh. I wake to a damp pillow.
It is best I am not the keeper of my dreams
The gate is unlocked and you are free to come and go as you please
For if not, in sleep, death shared, as I would choose to sleep forever.
poem by Stevie Taite
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Picking My Poison
More and more it feels like the stresses of life are clouding me, like a thick wall of fog through which I can barely see
It feels like all this stress is strangling me, help somebody please! It feels as though I can barely breathe!
But wait while yet all this stress continues to strangle me, there is also this pounding pressure I can feel inside of me
The pressure of taking care of you, the pressure of to myself staying true, the pressure to be who you want me to be, the pressure of never making a mistake for fear that you'll never again be able to look at me
The pressure of trying to succeed, the pressure of always trying to make you proud of me, the pressure of trying to make everybody happy, little do they know that sooner or later all this pressure will finally destroy me
But even if this pounding pressure I feel inside doesn't do me in first, there's still this strangling stress that continues to choke me, and honestly I don't know which poison is worst.
poem by Tiger Lily Love
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