The Voyageur
LIKE the swarthy son of some tropic shore
He sleeps, with his olive bosom bared,
He sleeps–in his earrings of brassy ore.
Like a tawny tiger whom hot hours bore,
When all night long he has growled and glared
At the swarthy son of some tropic shore,
Like a fierce-eyed blossom with heart of gore
That too long in the sun-flushed fields has flared,
He sleeps–in his earrings of brassy ore,
And his scarlet sash that he gaily wore
To tempt Madelon–who his heart has snared,
Like the swarthy son of some tropic shore.
That dusky form might a queen adore–
Prenez garde, Madelon, for a season spared,
He sleeps–in his earrings of brassy ore.
For a season only. What may be in store
For Madelon? She who has never cared! . . .
Like the swarthy son of some tropic shore
He sleeps–in his earrings of brassy ore.
poem by Susan Frances Harrison
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Related quotes
The Voyageur
LIKE the swarthy son of some tropic shore
He sleeps, with his olive bosom bared,
He sleeps–in his earrings of brassy ore.
Like a tawny tiger whom hot hours bore,
When all night long he has growled and glared
At the swarthy son of some tropic shore,
Like a fierce-eyed blossom with heart of gore
That too long in the sun-flushed fields has flared,
He sleeps–in his earrings of brassy ore,
And his scarlet sash that he gaily wore
To tempt Madelon–who his heart has snared,
Like the swarthy son of some tropic shore.
That dusky form might a queen adore–
Prenez garde, Madelon, for a season spared,
He sleeps–in his earrings of brassy ore.
For a season only. What may be in store
For Madelon? She who has never cared! . . .
Like the swarthy son of some tropic shore
He sleeps–in his earrings of brassy ore.
poem by Susie Frances Harrison
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Serenade from “The Spanish Student”
STARS of the summer night!
Far in yon azure deeps,
Hide, hide your golden light!
She sleeps!
My lady sleeps!
Sleeps!
Moon of the summer night!
Far down yon western steeps,
Sink, sink in silver light!
She sleeps!
My lady sleeps!
Sleeps!
Wind of the summer night!
Where yonder woodbine creeps,
Fold, fold thy pinions light!
She sleeps!
My lady sleeps!
Sleeps!
Dreams of the summer night!
Tell her, her lover keeps
Watch! while in slumbers light
She sleeps!
My lady sleeps!
Sleeps!
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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While The City Sleeps
What goes on behind closed doors, private wounds, open sores
Youre your own worst enemy and cheap thrills bring you to your knees
Its thumbs down for someone you know, and its easy come and easy go
Chorus:
Burn your bridges, take what you can get
Go for the throat cause you paid your debt
Livin well is the best revenge, so give em hell
While the city sleeps - its all there in black and white
While the city sleeps - through the eye of the needle, gotta thread your life
While the city sleeps - while the city sleeps
Its a hit or miss, an eye for an eye, live for today, and dont ask why
For better or worse, you bought and sold
They love you while youre hot and leave you when youre cold
Chorus
While the city sleeps - yeah, better run for your life
Take your troubles to the night
While the city sleeps - yeah, beggars, thieves and losers, theres no relief
While the city sleeps - theres no relief, while the city sleeps
While the city sleeps - yeah
Chorus
While the city sleeps - while the city sleeps
While the city sleeps - while the city sleeps
While the city sleeps - yeah, theres no relief
While the city sleeps
song performed by by Kiss
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Kissing The Naked Stars
Your star
earrings
leave tiny star
like scars
that I like
to kiss
when you undress
your ears
& put your earrings
to bed in a musical
jewelry box
with a dancing
ballerina on top
your star earrings
glitter with sleep
when the box closes
& the ballerina comes
to a perfect
stand still
(balanced on one
leg)
stop
your star earrings
dream of your ears
and of wearing your life
I love
your tiny
star-like scars
so much
I could cry
when I kiss them
with eyes closed
still seeing them
I & your earrings
both
dreaming...dreaming.
poem by Dónall Dempsey
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Sleeps With Angels
She wasnt perfect
She had some trips of her own
He wasnt worried
At least he wasnt alone (too late)
He sleeps with angels (too soon)
Hes always on someones mind
He sleeps with angels (too late)
He sleeps with angels (too soon)
She was a teen queen
She saw the dark side of life
She made things happen
But when he did it that night
She ran up phone bills
She moved around from town to town (too late)
He sleeps with angels (too soon)
Hes always on someones mindhe sleeps with angels
He sleeps with angels
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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North and South
O sweet are tropic lands for waking dreams!
There time and life move lazily along.
There by the banks of blue-and-silver streams
Grass-sheltered crickets chirp incessant song,
Gay-colored lizards loll all through the day,
Their tongues outstretched for careless little flies,
And swarthy children in the fields at play,
Look upward laughing at the smiling skies.
A breath of idleness is in the air
That casts a subtle spell upon all things,
And love and mating-time are everywhere,
And wonder to life's commonplaces clings.
The fluttering humming-bid darts through the trees
And dips his long beak in the big bell-flowers,
The leisured buzzard floats upon the breeze,
Riding a crescent cloud for endless hours,
The sea beats softly on the emerald strands--
O sweet for quiet dreams are tropic lands!
poem by Claude McKay
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The Chattahoochee River
The Chattahoochee River is muddy and deep,
Rolls restless in her bed, and never sleeps.
She churns, whirls, and sometimes creeps,
But the Chattahoochee River never sleeps.
She cascades, crashes, her falls are steep,
So the Chattahoochee River never sleeps.
A child, in innocence, in her water leaps,
Unaware, the Chattahoochee never sleeps.
She snatches him down, his little body to keep,
Cause the Chattahoochee River never sleeps.
He struggles for his life, so tender and meek.
Oh! the Chattahoochee River never sleeps.
She steals his breath, while caressing his cheeks.
Careless Chattahoochee River just never sleeps.
poem by Willie Wilburn Walker
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Man only indulges at night
Tigers sleep, deer sleep,
Cats sleep, rats sleep,
The water sleeps, the earth sleeps,
Everything sleeps when the sun sleeps.
But human beings are awake,
Only at night, in bed, thinking of sex.
12.07.2001, Pkd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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My Baby Sleeps
The wind is loud in the west to-night,
But Baby sleeps;
The wild wind blows with all its might,
But Baby sleeps;
My Baby sleeps, and he does not hear
The noise of the storm in the pine trees near.
The snow is drifting high to-night,
But Baby sleeps;
The bitter world is cold and white,
But Baby sleeps;
My Baby sleeps, so fast, so fast,
That he does not heed the wintry blast.
The cold snows drift, and the wild winds rave,
But Baby sleeps;
And a white cross stands by his little grave,
While Baby sleeps;
And the storm is loud in the rocking pine,
But its moan is not so deep as mine.
poem by George A. Mackenzie
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Sorrow is better than insomnia.
Neither a sister, nor a daughter,
Nor any one by blood you are.
Yet my sorrow never sleeps.
Never a tryst, nor a rendezvous,
Nor an innuendo, you granted.
Yet my sorrow never sleeps.
Glamour, splendor, or pretext,
You never played to gravitate.
Yet my sorrow never sleeps.
Formidable and forbidden you were.
Sojourn was so short.
Parting was abrupt and aborting.
Yet my sorrow never sleeps.
Every beginning has an end.
An episode should, however, end.
But abortion and usurpation?
May be, by a boon I’ll see you soon.
That can retrieve our past monsoon.
But the crop is already gone.
So my sorrow never sleeps.
Time was over before I could score.
No more game is set up in the court.
That is why my sorrow never sleeps.
With your parting, came to an end
All my springs and monsoons.
Let my sorrow never sleep.
It is better than insomnia.
08.05.2001, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Earrings.
Earrings,
That I bought you
On Christmas Eve.
Sparkling in duet
With your eyes,
Hypnotise.
Fragrant candles
A festive spirit
Do weave.
As fireside flames
Chase hidden shadows
I fantasize.
With earrings,
You were adorned.
When our hearts danced
At our restaurant rendevous.
Blue, enhanced,
Like droplets
From your soul.
You glittered
As sunlit morning dew.
I stole
The scented softness
Of your cheek.
With a kiss.
Bathed in an evening
Of mystique,
Our unbridled bliss.
Yet sweetness
Of the memory stings.
Circumstance
Then cut our wings.
And you never again
Wore those blue earrings.
poem by Kevin East
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Silver Earrings
When you fall in love with love
your heart and soul will tell you true,
and if you wear your silver earrings
on wings of song he'll fly to you.
Over the rainbow you'll be floating,
love's old sweet story must be told;
you will wear bright silver earrings
with his wedding band of gold.
Through the years you both will cherish
magic moments ~ forever new...
so always wear bright silver earrings
and on wings of love he'll fly to you.
poem by Joyce Hemsley
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Among The Tombs
She is a lady fair and wise,
Her heart her counsel keeps,
And well she knows of time that flies
And tide that onward sweeps;
But still she sits with restless eyes
Where Memory sleeps---
Where Memory sleeps.
Ye that have heard the whispering dead
In every wind that creeps,
Or felt the stir that strains the lead
Beneath the mounded heaps,
Tread softly, ah! more softly tread
Where Memory sleeps---
Where Memory sleeps.
poem by Sir Henry Newbolt
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City sleeps
I love the night
Because when the city sleeps
It's never more awake
It's like a whole new world comes to life
When the city sleeps I lay awake
Looking toward the light
When the city sleeps it is reborn
When the city sleeps it's never more awake
poem by Zack Dozier
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In These Sessons
in the night where the moon shins my soul sleeps and my heart bets.
in the cold winther nights my soul sleeps and my heart crys out for your wormth.
in the hot summer days my soul awakes and my heart feeds for you heart of shade.
in the cool spring nights my soul sleeps and my heart bags for your soft sweet heart.
in the fall morings where the leaves fall my heart crys bags hurts for your key to your heart.
in these sessons my soul sleeps and awakes my heart bets crys bags and hurts for your heart to lay aganst my heart.
poem by Stephen Vega
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Below Her Window
Where she sleeps, no moonlight shines
No pale beam unbidden creeps.
Darkest shade the place enshrines
Where she sleeps.
Like a diamond in the deeps
Of the rich unopened mines
There her lovely rest she keeps.
Though the jealous dark confines
All her beauty, Love's heart leaps.
His unerring thought divines
Where she sleeps.
poem by Robert Fuller Murray
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Turqouise Earrings
I bought you some turquoise earrings
You smile like the spring
Our candle is on the kitchen table
Morning sun shines on your face
The cat wants to go out
Jack Johnson is on the radio
I am trying to be mellow
Love makes me nervous
Your smile says relax babes and thanks
The earrings look so nice on you
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
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Lambs
He sleeps as a lamb sleeps,
Beside his mother.
Somewhere in yon blue deeps
His tender brother
Sleeps like a lamb and leaps.
He feeds as a lamb might,
Beside his mother.
Somewhere in fields of light
A lamb, his brother,
Feeds, and is clothed in white.
poem by Katharine Tynan
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She sleeps
She sleeps
~
She sleeps
her heart, soul at peace
she is as beautiful
as any painting by any artist
no brush has born such beauty
silence fills the walls
and the day is calm
my thoughts like trees
take deep roots
into the earth of my soul
unmoveable
mountains, stars and the sky
rise into an endless expanse
I wonder on her dreams
what places she sees
the weather and colours
the faces and events
unfolding
she sleeps
and I
I am moved
by her quiet beauty
poem by Matthew Holloway
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Cat's Dream
How neatly a cat sleeps,
sleeps with its paws and its posture,
sleeps with its wicked claws,
and with its unfeeling blood,
sleeps with all the rings--
a series of burnt circles--
which have formed the odd geology
of its sand-colored tail.
I should like to sleep like a cat,
with all the fur of time,
with a tongue rough as flint,
with the dry sex of fire;
and after speaking to no one,
stretch myself over the world,
over roofs and landscapes,
with a passionate desire
to hunt the rats in my dreams.
I have seen how the cat asleep
would undulate, how the night
flowed through it like dark water;
and at times, it was going to fall
or possibly plunge into
the bare deserted snowdrifts.
Sometimes it grew so much in sleep
like a tiger's great-grandfather,
and would leap in the darkness over
rooftops, clouds and volcanoes.
Sleep, sleep cat of the night,
with episcopal ceremony
and your stone-carved moustache.
Take care of all our dreams;
control the obscurity
of our slumbering prowess
with your relentless heart
and the great ruff of your tail.
Translated by Alastair Reid
Submitted by Jen
poem by Pablo Neruda
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