The Journey
Snake River Country
I now remembered slowly how I came,
I, sometime living, sometime with a name,
Creeping by iron ways across the bare
Wastes of Wyoming, turning in despair,
Changing and turning, till the fall of night,
Then throbbing motionless with iron might.
Four days and nights! Small stations by the way,
Sunk far past midnight! Nothing one can say
Names the compassion they stir in the heart.
Obscure men shift and cry, and we depart.
And I remembered with the early sun
That foul-mouthed barber back in Pendleton,
The sprawling streets, the icy station bench,
The Round-up pennants, the latrinal stench.
These towns are cold by day, the flesh of vice
Raw and decisive, and the will precise;
At night the turbulence of drink and mud,
Blue glare of gas, the dances dripping blood,
Fists thudding murder in the shadowy air,
Exhausted whores, sunk to a changeless stare.
Alive in empty fact alone, extreme,
They make each fact a mortuary dream.
Once when the train paused in an empty place,
I met the unmoved landscape face to face;
Smoothing abysses that no stream could slake,
Deep in its black gulch crept the heavy Snake,
The sound diffused, and so intently firm,
It seemed the silence, having change nor term.
Beyond the river, gray volcanic stone
In rolling hills: the river moved alone.
And when we started, charged with mass, and slow,
We hung against it in an awful flow.
Thus I proceeded until early night,
And, when I read the station’s name aright,
Descended—at the bidding of a word!
I slept the night out where the thought occurred,
Then rose to view the dwelling where I lay.
Outside, the bare land stretching far away;
The frame house, new, fortuitous, and bright,
Pointing the presence of the morning light;
A train’s far screaming, clean as shining steel
Planing the distance for the gliding heel.
Through shrinking frost, autumnal grass uncurled,
In naked sunlight, on a naked world.
poem by Yvor Winters
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mystery Train
(herman parker/sam phillips)
Train arrive 16 coaches long
Train arrive 16 coaches long
Well that long black train
Took my baby back home
Train train rolling round the bend
Train train rolling round the bend
Well it took my baby
Away from me again
Went down to the station
To meet my baby at the gate
Ask the station master
If her train is running late
He said no if your wait
On that old 44
I hate to tell you son
But that train dont stop her anymore
Train train rolling round the bend
Train train rolling round the bend
Well it took my baby
Away from me again
Heard that whistle blowing
It was the middle of the night
When I got down to the station
The train was rolling out of site
Mystery train rolling round the bend
Mystery train rolling round the bend
Well it took my baby
Away from me again
song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Train
Writers: leo sayer & david courtney
Running through my life
Like a river, like a song
Train keeps pushing me
Right back to the place where I belong...
Back along the tracks
Fly a million years
Right across my path
Train moves on ringing in my ears...
Come on board
Come on board
Train, oh train, take me back, again
I remember, I remember, take me back
Train, oh train, the journey ends and starts again
I remember, I remember, I remember
Ive been up all night trying to get this down
Now Im hallucinating
Staring at the wall look what Im creating...
Look at the clock Im twelve hours old
So many more remain
Way up ahead I know I see a train...
Come on board
Come on board
Train, oh train, all those memories, all over again
I remember, I remember, take me back
Train, oh train, the journey ends and starts again
I remember, I remember, I remember
Waited on the station all day
Just to see a glimpse of the morning train
Just to see the wheels turning round
Blowing up steam,
See what I mean,
You see what I mean...
song performed by by Leo Sayer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Leudeman's-on-the-River
Toward even when the day leans down,
To kiss the upturned face of night,
Out just beyond the loud-voiced town
I know a spot of calm delight.
Like crimson arrows from a quiver
The red rays pierce the water flowing,
While we go dreaming, singing, rowing,
To Leudeman's-on-the-River.
The hills, like some glad mocking-bird,
Send back our laughter and our singing,
While faint--and yet more faint is heard
The steeple bells all sweetly ringing.
Some message did the winds deliver
To each glad heart that August night,
All heard, but all heard not aright;
By Leudeman's-on-the-River.
Night falls as in some foreign clime,
Between the hills that slope and rise.
So dusk the shades at landing time,
We could not see each other's eyes.
We only saw the moonbeams quiver
Far down upon the stream! that night
The new moon gave but little light
By Leudeman's-on-the-River.
How dusky were those paths that led
Up from the river to the hall.
The tall trees branching overhead
Invite the early shades that fall.
In all the glad blithe world, oh, never
Were hearts more free from care than when
We wandered through those walks, we ten,
By Leudeman's-on-the-River.
So soon, so soon, the changes came.
This August day we two alone,
On that same river, not the same,
Dream of a night forever flown.
Strange distances have come to sever
The hearts that gayly beat in pleasure,
Long miles we cannot cross or measure--
From Leudeman's-on-the-River.
We'll pluck two leaves, dear friend, to-day.
The green, the russet! seems it strange
So soon, so soon, the leaves can change!
Ah, me! so runs all night away
This night wind chills me, and I shiver;
The summer time is almost past.
One more good-bye--perhaps the last
To Leudeman's-on-the-River.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fire-Fly City
Like a long arrow through the dark the train is darting,
Bearing me far away, after a perfect day of love's delight:
Wakeful with all the sad-sweet memories of parting,
I lift the narrow window-shade and look out on the night.
Lonely the land unknown, and like a river flowing,
Forest and field and hill are gliding backward still athwart my dream;
Till in that country strange, and ever stranger growing,
A magic city full of lights begins to glow and gleam.
Wide through the landscape dim the lamps are lit in millions;
Long avenues unfold clear-shining lines of gold across the green;
Clusters and rings of light, and luminous pavilions, --
Oh, who will tell the city's name, and what these wonders mean?
Why do they beckon me, and what have they to show me?
Crowds in the blazing street, mirth where the feasters meet, kisses and wine:
Many to laugh with me, but never one to know me:
A cityful of stranger-hearts and none to beat with mine!
Look how the glittering lines are wavering and lifting, --
Softly the breeze of night, scatters the vision bright: and, passing fair,
Over the meadow-grass and through the forest drifting,
The Fire-Fly City of the Dark is lost in empty air!
Girl of the golden eyes, to you my heart is turning:
Sleep in your quiet room, while through the midnight gloom my train is whirled.
Clear in your dreams of me the light of love is burning, --
The only never failing light in all the phantom world.
poem by Henry Van Dyke
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On My Own
And now Im all alone again
no where to turn no one to go to
Without a home without a friend without a face to say hello to
And now the night is near
now I can make believe hes here
Sometimes I walk alone at night when everybody
else is sleeping
I think of him and then I'm happy with
the company I'm keeping
The city goes to bed
And I can live inside my head
On my own,
Pretending he's beside me,
All alone, I walk with him till morning.
Without him, I feel his arms around me,
And when I lose my way, I close my eyes,
And he has found me...
In the rain,
The pavement shines like silver,
All the lights are misty in the river,
In the darkness the trees are full of starlight,
And all I see is him and me,
Forever and forever...
And I know it's only in my mind,
That I'm talking to myself and not to him,
And although I know that he is blind,
Still I say, there's a way for us...
I love him,
But when the night is over,
He is gone, the river's just a river
Without him the world around me changes,
The trees are bare and everywhere the streets are full of strangers.
I love him,
But everyday I'm learning,
All my life,
I've only been pretending,
Without me,
His world will go on turning,
A world that's full of happiness,
That I have never known...
I love him... I love him...
I love him... But only on my own...
song performed by by Lea Salonga
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Turn To Stone
The city streets are empty now the lights dont shine no more
And so the songs are way down low turning turning turning
A sound that flows into my mind the echoes of the daylight
Of everything that is alive in my blue world
I turn to stone when you are gone, I turn to stone.
Turn to stone when you comin home, I cant go on.
The dying embers of the night a fire that slowly fades till dawn
Still glow upon the wall so bright burning burning burning
The tired streets that hide away from here to everywhere they go
Roll past my door into the day in my blue world
I turn to stone when you are gone, I turn to stone.
Turn to stone when you comin home, I cant go on.
Turn to stone when you are gone, I turn to stone.
Yes, Im turnin to stone cos you aint comin home.
Why you aint comin home if Im turnin to stone?
Youve been gone for so long and I cant carry on,
Yes, Im turnin, Im turnin, Im turnin to stone.
The dancing shadows on the wall the two-step in the hall
Are all I see since youve been gone turning turning turning
Through all I sit here and I wait I turn to stone I turn to stone
You will return again some day to my blue world
I turn to stone when you are gone, I turn to stone.
Turn to stone when you comin home, I cant go on.
Turn to stone when you are gone, I turn to stone.
I turn to stone when you are gone, I turn to stone.
Turn to stone when you comin home, I cant go on.
Turn to stone when you are gone, I turn to stone.
song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Living On The Edge Of The World
Early north jersey industrial skyline
Im an all-set cobra jet creepin through the night time
Gotta find a gas station, gotta find a pay phone
This turnpike sure is spooky at night when youre all alone
Im living on the edge of the world
Tryin to get my girl on the line
Livin on the edge of the world
But I think its just a waste of my time
Some jerk keeps breaking my connection, girl
cause Im living on the edge of the world
Living on the edge of the world
Radio, radio, hear my tale of heartbreak
New jersey in the morning like a lunar landscape
Got a counter girl at the exit 24 hojo
Down past the refinery towers where the great black river flows
Im living on the edge of the world
Tryin to get back to you, girl
Living on the edge of the world
Tryin to get a message through
I gotta make a connection, girl
Because Im living on the edge of the world
Living on the edge of the world
Radios jammed with gospel stations
Lost souls callin long distance salvation
Hey mister deejay gotta hear my last prayer
Its a hey ho rock and roll, deliver me from nowhere
Im living on the edge of the world
Tryin to get back to you, girl
Living on the edge of the world
Tryin to get a message through
I gotta make some connection, girl
Because Im living on the edge of the world
Living on the edge of the world
Now my boss dont dig me cause he put me on the night shift
It takes me two hours to get back to where my baby lives
In the wee wee hours my mind gets hazy
Relay towers, wont you lead me to my baby
neath the overpass the trooper hits his party lights switch
Good night, good luck, one, two powershift
song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Will Get There
Ohohah
Hey
Yeah
I've been wanderin' 'round in the dark
Been lost somewhere where no light could shine on my heart
I have known a pain so deep
But I know my faith will free me
[Get there] And I'll get through this
[Get there] I'll find my way again
So don't tell me that it's over
'Cause each step just gets me closer
[chorus]
(I will get there) I will get there
(I will get there) I will get there somehow
Cross that river (Cross that river)
Nothing's stoppin' me now
I will get through the night (Oh, yes, I will)
And make it through to the other side
(Get there) Get there
(Get there) Get there
I've been in these chains for so long
I'll break free and I'll be there where I belong
Hold my head up high, I'll stand tall
And I swear this time I won't fall
[Get there] I will do this
[Get there] No matter what it takes
'Cause I know no limitations
And I'll reach my destination, I will get there
[chorus]
I will get there (I will get there)
I will get there (Ooh) somehow (Somehow)
Cross that river (Cross that river)
Nothing's stoppin' me now
I will get through the night
And make it through to the other side
(Ooh, get there) Get there
(Get there) Get there
Well, the night is cold and dark
But somewhere the sun is shining
And I'll feel it shine on me
I'll keep on tryin', I'll keep on tryin'
I will get there (I will get there)
I will get there somehow
Cross that river (Cross that river)
Nothing's stoppin' me now
I will get through the night
And make it through to the other side
Get there, get there
I will get there (I will get there)
I will get there somehow (Somehow)
Cross that river (I'll cross that river for you)
Nothing's stoppin' me now (OhwhoaI)
I will get through (Through) the night
And make it through to the other side (Ohhoohho)
(Get there) Get there
(Ooh, get there) Get there (Whoaoh)
I will get there (I will get there)
I will get there somehow (Somehow)
Cross that river (I'll cross it for your love)
Nothing's stoppin' me now (No matter what)
I will get through the night (I will get through the night)
And make it through to the other side
(Get there) Get there
(Ooh, get there) Get there
Get there
Ohhooh
I'll get there
song performed by by Boyz II Men
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In the Moonlight
The moon is bright, and the winds are laid, and the river is roaring by;
Orion swings, with his belted lights low down in the western sky;
North and south from the mountain gorge to the heart of the silver plain
There’s many an eye will see no sleep till the east grows bright again;
There’s many a hand will toil to-night, from the centre down to the sea;
And I’m far from the men I used to know—and my love is far from me.
Where the broad flood eddies the dredge is moored to the beach of shingle white,
And the straining cable whips the stream in a spray of silver light;
The groaning buckets bear their load, and the engine throbs away,
And the wash pours red on the turning screen that knows not night or day;
For there’s many an ounce of gold to save, from the gorge to the shining sea—
And there’s many a league of the bare brown hills between my love and me.
Where the lines of gorse are parched and dry, and the sheaves are small and thin,
The engine beats and the combine sings to the drays that are leading in,
For they’re thrashing out of the stook to-night, and the plain is as bright as day,
And the fork-tines flash as the sheaves are turned on the frame of the one-horse dray;
For many a hand will toil to-night, from the mountains down to the sea;—
But I’m far from the lips of the girl I love, and the heart that beats for me.
The trappers are out on the hills to-night, and the sickly lantern-shine
Is mocking the gleam of the silver moon in the scrub on the long trap-line;
The tallies are big on the rock-strewn spur, and the rattling clink of the chain
Comes weirdly mixed from the moon-bright hill with the whistling shriek of pain;
For many a hand will toil to-night where the tussocks are waving free;—
But it’s over the hills and over the plain to the heart that beats for me.
The stars are bright, and the night is still, and the river is singing by,
And many a face is upward turned to gaze at the moon’s bright eye.
North and south, from the forest deeps to the heart of the silver plain,
There’s many an eye will see no sleep till the east grows bright again;
There’s many a hand will toil to-night by shining land and sea.
O moonlight, bear my message of love to the heart that beats for me.
poem by David McKee Wright
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Moon Shining Over The London Bridge
The sky is dark now
And the night is here again
But there is a moon shining over the London Bridge right over the sky
And I keep watching that moon while I rest for a while at the Thames River
But I can't take my eyes of the moon that is shining over the London Bridge right over the sky because it is beautiful to see
And at the same time it is getting late now but I don't mind at all because I Rather stay all night at The Thames river watching the moon shining over The London Bridge right over the sky
Yes the Big Ben chined midnight now and London is going to sleep
But I am falling asleep now at The Thames river below the naked three That is there at the Thanes River
Also all the buildings near The Thames river have their lights out
And I am sleeping in totall darkness and at the same time enjoying the Peace and quiet of the Thames river during the night
But near the Thames River is always cold and I don't mind at all Because I am dressed for this kind of weather
But this night at the Thames River I will always remember because it Will be the best sleep I ever had in years
poem by Aldo Kraas
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Washing Of The Water
River, river carry me on
Living river carry me on
River, river carry me on
To the place where I come from
So deep, so wide, will you take me on your back for a ride
If I should fall, would you swallow me deep inside
River, show me how to float
I feel like Im sinking down
Thought that I could get along
But here in this water
My feet wont touch the ground
I need something to turn myself around
Going away, away towards the sea
River deep, can you lift up and carry me
Oh roll on though the heartland
til the sun has left the sky
River, river carry me high
til the washing of the water make it all alright
Let your waters reach me like she reached me tonight
Letting go, its so hard
The way its hurting now
To get this love untied
So tough to stay with thing
cause if I follow through
I face what I denied
I get those hooks out of me
And I take out the hooks that I sunk deep in your side
Kill that fear of emptiness, loneliness I hide
River, oh river, river running deep
Bring me something that will let me get to sleep
In the washing of the water will you take it all away
Bring me something to take this pain away
song performed by by Peter Gabriel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sucide In The Train
1
From the trains.. The face of journeys shines
In the stations.. The pictures of hopes disappeared
The train goes on and trees have disappeared in his track
A cloud stole moon s face
The path switch off
And the small children how they noisy!
With muddy mouth laughing on our feet those cloudy with soil
There is no rain in our street!
Between wheat there is a pretty blond girl
Was oh-so it was!
Sickle has naked her
2
the night suicide on the morning..The city be naked
grapes die in the days juice.. Generated Wine
we drunk which was killed!
Why we be afraid of suicide in the light of truth? !
3
the train takes us and the sky stole the wound color from the sea
Water s journey is arduous!
it left the clouds if the trees feel in it weak
my journey is Arduous!
Sun wear my eyelashes: I dream
Moon shadow my eye: I dream
sun died..moon sleep: I wake up
I wanted the sea a pretty letter but always I run to catch the salt
And waited for Santa Claus to receive of the chimney
and there is no chimney in my house
I go on and my hopes, roses, simple house, women love
, not war, money and slave the strip on the signs
4
from the soil of years the dust anniversary is spread
the Night near from my village
and the Morning is a pretty girl ran away with the son of our neighbors
Where the heart travel? !
my bag set down with me in the train
Discoloration my pages with sorrow pens
singer's voice between vehicles stoop me
with his old clothes , eyes smiling and wounded soul singing:
Wine ancient song, the homeless moon and winter songs
with Sun rhythm anomaly
When the death takes a trip? , to let the dead peoples take a breath! !
5
Moving us train: How it has heavy heart windows!
See the dream from it.. it Reflects the face of truth
Tired this evening.. I am tired!
and my heart Is old road..in front of it a tourist take picture
our wishes lost between crossroads stations
Each station is a thread rope from the dress anniversary
this anniversary is not sponge to pulling
How I said this is the station..Alas cheat me Beep
Tune was died the words generated
you will not stay naked in the dark..The morning will dressed you
And you, my friend, do not jump from the train
cut your arteries by your pen
Suicide on the paper is certificate
poem by Nouzad Jaadan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Windy Town
Driving home from the highland line
We done some gigs on the clyde and the tyne
They flew us in from a hamburg strip
The taste of dusseldorf still on our lips
And on the bus there is a friend of mine
We go way back to the scene of the crime
We sit up front and share a cigarette
And try to remember what we tried to forget
He say do you remember?
He say do you recall?
I say yeah I remember, oh, I remember it all
Every time that cold wind blows
Every time I hear that sound
Late night trains shunting down by the river
I remember windy town
We come so far and we move so fast
Making hay see it all go past
Round the world and round again
Up and down on that gravy train
But every time that cold wind blows
Every time I hear that sound
The east coast cross winds on the cold wet stone
I remember windy town
The freezing corners and the empty streets
The burning passion and the cold wet feet
Three tricky miles home every night
Dodging from the shadows underneath those amber light
No car for kissing and nowhere to go
Except inside each other and I loved you so
I held your face as you shivered in the rain
Girl Ill always love you and Ill love you again
Oh everytime, everytime
Every time that cold wind blows
Every time I hear that sound
Late night trains shunting down by the river
I remember windy town
Every time that cold wind blows
Every time I hear that sound
The east coast cross winds on the cold wet stone
I remember windy town
song performed by by Chris Rea
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Meet Me At The Station
(brother williams memphis sanctified singers)
Well if I get to heaven before you do
I will meet you at the station when your train comes along
Ill be watching and waiting, mother dear, for you
I will meet you at the station when your train comes along
Father, when the train
Father, when the train
Meet me at the station when the train comes along
When the train
Father, when the train comes along
I will meet you at the station when your train comes along
Well if my eyes see the glory, before yours do
I will meet you at the station when your train comes along
Ill be watching and waiting, father, for you
I will meet you at the station whe your train comes along
Father, when the train
Father, when the train
Meet me at the station when the train comes along
Father, when the train
Father, when the train comes along
I will meet you at the station when your train comes along
Now if my feet touch the homeline before yours do
I will meet you at the station when the train comes along
Ill be watching and waiting, my brother, for you
I will meet you at the station when the train comes along
When the train
When the train
Meet me at the station when the train comes along
When the train
When the train comes along
Meet me at the station when the train comes along
When the train
When the train
Meet me at the station when the train comes along
When the train
When the train comes along
Meet me at the station when the train comes along
Now if you see gods country before I do
Will you meet me at the station when my train comes along
Will you be there watching, sister, for me
Will you meet me at the station when my train comes along
When my train
When my train
Meet me at the station when my train comes along
When my train
Sister, when my train comes along
Will you meet me at the station when my train comes along
When the train
When the train
Meet me at the station when my train comes along
When the train
Oh, when the train
Meet me at the station when the train comes along
Meet me at the station when the train comes along
Meet me at the station when the train comes along
song performed by by Waterboys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Puritans
Sidling upon the river, the white boat
Has volleyed with its cannon all the morning,
Shaken the shore towns like a Judgment warning,
Telling the palsied water its demand
That the crime come to the top again, and float,
That the sunk murder rise to the light and land.
Blam! In the noon's perfected brilliance burn
Brief blooms of flame, which soil away in smoke;
And down below, where slowed concussion broke
The umber stroll of waters, water-dust
Dreamily powders up, and serves to turn
The river surface to a cloudy rust.
Down from his bridge the river captain cries
To fire again. They make the cannon sound;
But none of them would wish the murder found,
Nor wish in other manner to atone
Than booming at their midnight crime, which lies
Rotting the river, weighted with a stone.
poem by Richard Wilbur
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Suffering Is Always Personal and Better Left Unshared and Unspoken
my words are waking me up
my hand is ready, the computer beeps
i like to write an email for you
how many times shall this happen?
this urge to let you know
this morning, i again blame myself
because i can't
i am thinking of the consequences
i know how painful is it to fall
how empty can the house become
how a night without a stars can make us cry
sometimes
how the sound of the river when you walk alone
gives you the sound of the cry of the pebbles
they break their silence
they scream
for truths still untold
to rules that cannot be broken
when you enter that empty room again
a ball of silence meets you
you sit beside it
it speaks to you
this is the first time that you have seen
its nature
it is dressed with lips
and when they begin to open to about to speak to you
you close your hands
turning them into fists
and you hit your chest
and the ball of silence moves away from you
it is respect for pain
when silence pretends again that it is just a ball
and that it can go away
for men suffer all alone
on unsaid proportion
with that ability to embrace no
description
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Dead Robin
The inadvertent fact of a robin
Carelessly snapping its back on a glass bus shelter
Is not a major tragedy of epic proportions.
Nevertheless, today there has been a death,
Two beautiful slender legs
Are crossed, a demure crucifix of twigs.
Tail feathers, folded away
Like ironed packing.
The small red body nestles in my hand
A cold flame
Fragile as an egg.
I do not want to bury it.
I do not want to draw earth's curtain over its closed face.
This delicate two-winged coffin.
I stroke and stroke the fiery breast
The light brown back
Turning it round and round like a roasting spit,
Regret its fading essences
Its lightness and its grace
Its softly thudding heartbeat
Has sunk without a trace
Into a sealed silence.
Over morning smells of toast and tea
I have read columns of obituaries
Black lists of names on thin cheap paper
My eyes dusted the dead as lightly as swatting a fly
But today one of the winged ones
Has tumbled from the sky
And I may stroke and stroke that small stilled throat
But cannot stir one feather with my gentling.
poem by Sheena Blackhall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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On A View Of Pasadena From The Hills
From the high terrace porch I watch the dawn.
No light appears, though dark has mostly gone,
Sunk from the cold and monstrous stone. The hills
Lie naked but not light. The darkness spills
Down the remoter gulleys; pooled, will stay
Too low to melt, not yet alive with day.
Below the windows, the lawn, matted deep
Under its close-cropped tips with dewy sleep,
Gives off a faint hush, all its plushy swarm
Alive with coolness reaching to be warm.
Gray windows at my back, the massy frame
Dull with the blackness that has not a name;
But down below, the garden is still young,
Of five years’ growth, perhaps, and terrace-hung,
Drop by slow drop of seeping concrete walls.
Such are the bastions of our pastorals!
Here are no palms! They once lined country ways,
Where old white houses glared down dusty days,
With small round towers, blunt-headed through small trees.
Those towers are now the hiving place of bees.
The palms were coarse; their leaves hung thick with dust;
The roads were muffled deep. But now deep rust
Has fastened on the wheels that labored then.
Peace to all such, and to all sleeping men!
I lived my childhood there, a passive dream
In the expanse of that recessive scheme.
Slow air, slow fire! O deep delay of Time!
That summer crater smoked like slaking lime,
The hills so dry, so dense the underbrush,
That where I pushed my way the giant hush
Was changed to soft explosion as the sage
Broke down to powdered ash, the sift of age,
And fell along my path, a shadowy rift.
On these rocks now no burning ashes drift;
Mowed lawn has crept along the granite bench;
The yellow blossoms of acacia drench
The dawn with pollen; and, with waxen green,
The long leaves of the eucalypti screen
The closer hills from view—lithe, tall, and fine,
And nobly clad with youth, they bend and shine.
The small dark pool, jutting with living rock,
Trembles at every atmospheric shock,
Blurred to its depth with the cold living ooze.
From cloudy caves, heavy with summer dews,
The shyest and most tremulous beings stir,
The pulsing of their fins a lucent blur,
That, like illusion, glances off the view.
The pulsing mouths, like metronomes, are true,
This is my father’s house, no homestead here
That I shall live in, but a shining sphere
Of glass and glassy moments, frail surprise,
My father’s phantasy of Paradise;
Which melts upon his death, which he attained
With loss of heart for every step he gained.
Too firmly gentle to displace the great,
He crystallized this vision somewhat late;
Forbidden now to climb the garden stair,
He views the terrace from a window chair.
His friends, hard shaken by some twenty years,
Tremble with palsy and with senile fears,
In their late middle age gone cold and gray.
Fine men, now broken. That the vision stay,
They spend astutely their depleted breath,
With tired ironic faces wait for death.
Below the garden the hills fold away.
Deep in the valley, a mist fine as spray,
Ready to shatter into spinning light,
Conceals the city at the edge of night.
The city, on the tremendous valley floor,
Draws its dream deeper for an instant more,
Superb on solid loam, and breathing deep,
Poised for a moment at the edge of sleep.
Cement roads mark the hills, wide, bending free
Of cliff and headland. Dropping toward the sea,
Through suburb after suburb, vast ravines
Swell to the summer drone of fine machines.
The driver, melting down the distance here,
May cast in flight the faint hoof of a deer
Or pass the faint head set perplexedly.
And man-made stone outgrows the living tree,
And at its rising, air is shaken, men
Are shattered, and the tremor swells again,
Extending to the naked salty shore,
Rank with the sea, which crumbles evermore.
poem by Yvor Winters
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Train Of Gold
I saw her there from across the street, she was dressed in black
And when she moved she moved to a beat, like a cadillac
She rode a train, train train train, a train of gold
She was a woman of suspicious ways, never saw daylight
And in her room she sat and passed the days
And shed creep out at night
She rode a train, train train train, a train of gold
Chorus: train of gold, train of gold
It took me so long to find out I was wrong
Now I wait for her in the night
Looked through a window saw a velvet sky, a shade of green
A violin was playing soft and sweet, like it was a dream
She rode a train, train train train, a train of gold
Train of gold, train of gold
It took me so long to find out I was wrong
Now I wait for her in the night
Train of gold, train of gold
I dont believe her, it just couldnt be her
I cant get it out of my mind
song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The River Unbroken
Waiting for the train to come
I keep awaiting for the train to come
Dreamin of the river and the rising sun
I keep thinkin bout the world to come
My life packed up in a suitcase
Old man staring from a doorway
My hope tarries in the distance
Love comes on the wheels of my deliverance
Oh-oh-oooh-oh where is the river unbroken
Oh-oh-oooh-oh when will the whistle blow
Waitin for the train to come
I keep waitin for the train to come
Keepin my appointment with the one who lives
In the heart of everything that is
All night sleepin in a station
My god, its hard not to be impatient
I watch through the windows of forgiveness
I cry but my words my only witness
Oh-oh-oooh-oh where is the river unbroken
Oh-oh-oooh-oh when will the whistle blow
Oh-oh-oooh-oh where is the river unbroken
Oh-oh-oooh-oh when will the whistle blow
Sometimes I feel I cant go on, I cant go on
I get so tired, all passions gone
My heart, my head, my arms, my legs, I get so tired
Without the strength to crawl away
Then something breaks inside my soul, my strength is gone
That spirits finally taking hold
My ears can hear, my eyes can see
Those clouds of joy still cover me, cover me, cover me
Oh-oh-oooh-oh where is the river unbroken
Oh-oh-oooh-oh when will the whistle blow
Oh-oh-oooh-oh where is the river unbroken
Oh-oh-oooh-oh when will the whistle blow
Oh-oh-oooh-oh where is, where is the river unbroken
Oh-oh-oooh-oh when will the whistle blow
Fade:
Waiting for the train to come
I keep waiting for the train to come...
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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