The evening sky to me is like a window, and a lighted lamp, and a waiting behind it.
aphorism by Rabindranath Tagore from Stray Birds (1916), translated by Rabindranath Tagore
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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40 Past Midnight
Well Im waiting standing on the corner
And its coming 40 past the hour
In the midnight lonely freezing hour
With my insides churning in the gutter
And Im waiting 40 past midnight
Catching rain in the soda light
Wont you come & call me to your window
Please dont leave me waiting on the corner
We could have the best time if you lighten up your life
With my pockets holey in the inside
With my bus ride rolling in the gutter
But if you would only light your lamp ligh
Then I would be here than any other
Well Im waiting 40 past midnight
Catching cold in the pouring rain
Wont you come & take me to your door
So I can take myself home again
When Im waiting standing on the corner
And the soda light begins to flicker
And its getting 40 past the hour
And I think I wont see what I figure
Well Im waiting freezing on the inside
Staring up at your window pane
If you wont come see me this evening
I can see myself here again
song performed by by Ocean Colour Scene
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Piano-Organ
My student-lamp is lighted,
The books and papers are spread;
A sound comes floating upwards,
Chasing the thoughts from my head.
I open the garret window,
Let the music in and the moon;
See the woman grin for coppers,
While the man grinds out the tune.
Grind me a dirge or a requiem,
Or a funeral-march sad and slow,
But not, O not, that waltz tune
I heard so long ago.
I stand upright by the window,
The moonlight streams in wan:--
O God! with its changeless rise and fall
The tune twirls on and on.
The Gardener LXIV: I Spent My Day
I spent my day on the scorching
hot dust of the road.
Now, in the cool of the evening, I
knock at the door of the inn. It is
deserted and in ruins.
A grim ashath tree spreads its
hungry clutching roots through the
gaping fissures of the walls.
Days have been when wayfarers
came here to wash their weary feet.
They spread their mats in the
courtyard in the dim light of the
early moon, and sat and talked of
strange lands.
They woke refreshed in the morning
when birds made them glad, and
friendly flowers nodded their heads
at them from the wayside.
But no lighted lamp awaited me
when I came here.
The black smudges of smoke left by
many a forgotten evening lamp stare,
like blind eyes, from the wall.
Fireflies flit in the bush near the
dried-up pond, and bamboo branches
fling their shadows on the grass-
grown path.
I am the guest of no one at the end
of my day.
The long night is before me, and I
am tired.
poem by Rabindranath Tagore
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Evening Coconut
The statue of liberty is breathing in the air
Atlantis is waiting down below.
Late at night, flashing lights are sighted in the air.
Its no secret, what everybody knows.
It really dont matter much, which way I go.
But remember to pull over in the storm.
Have you seen the evening coconut
Bobbing on the bay?
Standing on the waters edge of stone
Someone there besides you
To hear the words you say
To show you things your eyes have never known.
Evening coconut, evening coconut
Evening coconut, evening coconut
Evening coconut, evening coconut
Evening coconut, evening coconut
Evening coconut, evening coconut
The statue of liberty is breathing in the air
While atlantis is waiting down below.
Late at night, flashing lights are sighted in the air.
Its no secret, what everybody knows.
Evening coconut, evening coconut
Evening coconut, evening coconut
Evening coconut, evening coconut
Evening coconut, evening coconut
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Laughing
Laocoon and her two sons
Pressured storm, tried to move
No other more, emotion bound
Martyred, misconstrued
Lighted in a room, lanky room
Lighted, lighted, laughing in tune
Lighted, lighted, laughing
Laocoon and her two sons
Run the gamut, sated view
Know them more, emotion bound
Martyred, misconstrued
Lighted in a room, lanky room
Lighted, lighted, laughing in tune
Lighted, lighted, laughing
In a room, lock the door, latch the room
Lighted, lighted, laughing
Laocoon and her two sons
Ran the gamut, settled new,
Find a place fit to laugh,
Lock the doors, latch the room
Lighted in a room, lanky room
Lighted, lighted, laughing in tune
Lighted, lighted, laughing in tune
Lighted, lighted, laughing in tunes
Lighted, lighted, laughing in tunes
song performed by by REM
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lava Lamp
In the half light of the evening
I could almost see you glow, I can tell by the way you're moving,
Time may be right to let you know,
you've got a many coloured halo, the body of venus
a babe rainbow and if I come on any closer, I might fall into your silhouette
but the shape of things to come is constantly changing
so let it, so let it, so let it flow
lava lava lava lamp, lava lava lava lamp
indigo, violet and blue, can we meet where the edge is blur cause I am comin' atcha, like a bug eye heading for the burn
the truth is I can't stay away, no I wanna let you light my volcano
and maybe it's just my imagination, but you never know
because the shape of things to come is constantly changing
so let it, so let it, so let it flow
lava lava lava lamp, I'd love to turn you on
lava lava lava lamp, I'd love to turn you on
lava lava lava lamp, I'd love to turn you on
lava lava lava lamp, I'd love to turn you on
so let it, so let it, so let it ...
lava lava lava lamp, I'd love to turn you on
lava lava lava lamp, I'd love to turn you on
lava lava lava lamp, I'd love to turn you on
lava lava lava lamp, I'd love to turn you on
song performed by by Duran Duran
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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First Things to Hand
In the skull kept on the desk.
In the spider-pod in the dust.
Or nowhere. In milkmaids, in loaves,
Or nowhere. And if Socrates leaves
His house in the morning,
When he returns in the evening
He will find Socrates waiting
On the doorstep. Buddha the stick
You use to clear the path,
And Buddha the dog-doo you flick
Away with it, nowhere or in each
Several thing you touch:
The dollar bill, the button
That works the television.
Even in the joke, the three
Words American men say
After making love. Where's
The remote? In the tears
In things, proximate, intimate.
In the wired stem with root
And leaf nowhere of this lamp:
Brass base, aura of illumination,
Enlightenment, shade of grief.
Odor of the lamp, brazen.
The mind waiting in the mind
As in the first thing to hand.
poem by Robert Pinsky
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In The Distance
On a lonely hillside,
there stands a cabin
with a lamp in the window
to show someone is there.
In the distance it is a beacon
that points to my cosy home.
When my working day is through
and I walk back along the miles,
I can see that lamp burning.
That welcoming beacon
beckoning to me there in the distance.
My love waits for me there
after my work is done
with my slippers near the fire.
The miles never seem that long
with that beacon in the distance
waiting to welcome me home.
1 March 2011
poem by David Harris
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In the evening of my life
In the evening of my life
I will not tire seeing the twinkling stars
I will remember some past lovers & friends
I will watch the beautiful moon sailing by
I will ponder upon its gold glowing in the sky
I will recollect some memories and
Treasure them again closer to my heart
I will not just watch people passing by
I wil be a humming bird who will fly
In the evening I will sit with you
By this window
I will hold your hand and feel it warm
I will not just be in the sidewalk waiting
I will still be your man still loving
In the evening of my life
I will take the blanket gently on my hip
And then take my soundest sleep.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Mother's Dream
As I slept one night I saw this dream
Which further increased my vexation
I dreamt I was going somewhere on the way
Dark it was and impossible to find the way
Trembling all over with fear I was
Difficult to take even a step with fear was
With some courage as I forward moved
I saw some boys as lined in nice array
Dressed in emerald-like raiment they were
Carrying lighted lamps in their hands they were
They were going quietly behind each other
No one knew where they were to go
Involved in this thought was I
When in this troupe my son saw I
He was walking at the back, and was not walking fast
The lamp he had in his hand was not lighted
Recognizing him I said 'O My dear!
Where have you come leaving me there?
Restless due to separation I am
Weeping every day for ever I am
You did not care even a little for me
What loyalty you showed, you left me'!
As the child saw the distress in me
He replied thus, turning around to me
'The separation from me makes you cry
Not least little good does this to me'
He remained quiet for a while after talking
Showing me the lamp then he started talking
'Do you understand what happened to this?
Your tears have extinguished this'!
poem by Allama Muhammad Iqbal
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On A Wooden Sailboat
now we shall try riding on a wooden sailboat
to cross this river
it will just be the two of us
with me paddling
and you simply sitting there
the river is still
as my paddle creates the ripples
the sky is reddish
this afternoon and soon it will be dark
you will light our way
as i paddle towards the other end
where they are all waiting
we do not talk much now
we love this silence that wraps us
this silence in another place
this newness
that blooms again
i look at you with anticipation
tonight the room shall only be lighted
with an oil lamp
we shall hear the crickets
and the frogs near the pond
and some birds with strange sounds
some love calls
the mating season has just begun
we have no time to watch
what the other creatures of this far place are doing
we have ourselves now
i will blow the lamp's flickers out
goodnight
we are starting all over again
dreaming
as you take me in your arms
i will remember some quivers
of long time ago
as though i do not know what to do
this is magical
love still exists so well in this darkness faraway from everyone
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I cast my own shadow upon my path, because I have a lamp that has not been lighted.
aphorism by Rabindranath Tagore from Stray Birds (1916), translated by Rabindranath Tagore
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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lamp you lighted
morphs me into light of bliss
salutations to thee...
quote by by Indira Babbellapati
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Of Wick And Light
let my wick afloat
bright and lighted
in the sea of oil...
let the lamp vibrate
in all dark corners
within and without...
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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The Mad Man
there is this mad man on
the street carrying a lighted lamp
at midday
he screams that this world
is about to end
and people do not listen
he sometimes laughs at the top of his voice
when all of them are all gone
in the middle of the night
he sings the song of chaos
he gives the warning
but then the world is asleep and
numb,
the following morning you ask me about the mad man
how come that he screams, and lights a lamp during the day,
singing the songs of chaos
foretelling the doom of the world
i have no answer of course
but there is one thing i am sure of
it is about us not having understood him
a bit.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Chanpa Flower
Supposing I became a chanpa flower, just for fun, and grew on a
branch high up that tree, and shook in the wind with laughter and
danced upon the newly budded leaves, would you know me, mother?
You would call, "Baby, where are you?" and I should laugh to
myself and keep quite quiet.
I should slyly open my petals and watch you at your work.
When after your bath, with wet hair spread on your shoulders,
you walked through the shadow of the champ tree to the little court
where you say your prayers, you would notice the scent of the
flower, but not know that it cane from me.
When after the midday meal you sat at the window reading
ramayana, and the tree's shadow fell over your hair and your lap,
I should fling my wee little shadow on to the page of your book,
just where you were reading.
But would you guess that it was the tiny shadow of your
little child?
When in the evening you went to the cow shed with the lighted
lamp in your hand I should suddenly drop on to the earth again and
be your own baby once more, and beg you to tell me a story.
"Where have you been, you naughty child?"
"I won't tell you, mother." That's what you and I would say
then.
poem by Rabindranath Tagore
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Summer Breeze
See the curtains hanging in the window
In the evening on a Friday night
A little light a-shining through the window
Lets me know everythings alright
CHORUS:
Summer breeze makes me feel fine
Blowing through the jasmine in my mind
Summer breeze makes me feel fine
Blowing through the jasmine in my mind
See the paper lying on the sidewalk
A little music from the house next door
So I walk on up to the door step
Through the screen and across the floor
Repeat chorus
Sweet days of summer, the jasmine's in bloom
July is dressed up and playing her tune
When I come home from a hard days work
And you're waiting there, not a care in the world
See the smile a-waiting in the kitchen
Food cooking and the plates for two
Feel the arms that reach out to hold me
In the evening when the day is through
Repeat chorus
song performed by by Isley Brothers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Everybody's Waiting
Through the wind and the rain
I hear my mother's cry
She says "i know my baby's out there"
Just couldn't bear to ask her why
From my womb into the world
Lord i wish the child would call
You know i'm needing some company
She makes my life so full"
Take my advice
Go ahead and live your own life
But everybody's waiting
For someone to come home
Like the fire waits for the sand
This world is burning
With the tension of human hands
Waiting to be cleansed
Waiting for their ace of spades
They say "i sure hope he's coming
'cause i feel like i've just been saved"
Take my advice
Go ahead and live while you're alive
Everybody's waiting
For someone to come home
"come to me and cleanse my soul"
I'm free, i'm free
"only with you am i whole"
Can't you see that i am me
"i'll be waiting by the window"
I'll be heading for the door
I was driving down highway 85 yeah
Had to pull off the road
Just to hear my radio coming in clearer
Lord this life's so full i said
Why do we ask for more
While we're waiting for the man to come
We forgot what he's coming for
Won't take my advice
Go ahead and live while you're alive
Everybody's waiting
For someone to come home
"i'll be waiting by the window"
Everybody's waiting
For someone to come home
"i'll be waiting by the window"
Everybody's waiting
For someone to come home
Come home
song performed by by Indigo Girls
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Fro Someone Like You
always remember
that if there is darkness
there is always a candle
waiting to be lighted
that if there is emptiness
there is always a space
waiting to be filled
that in loneliness
there is always a beloved
waiting for your word
each is ready
for your initiation
remind the rest
that something comes
and yearns
and by its own volition
springs satisfaction
fill the void
cheer the beloved
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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