Ballad Of The Adventurers
Sickened by sun, with rainstorms lashing him rotten
A looted wreath crowning his tangled hair
Every moment of his youth apart from its dream was forgotten
Gone the roof overhead, but the sky was always there
Oh you, who are flung out, alike from heaven and from hades
You murderers whove been so bitterly repaid
Why did you part from the mothers who nursed you as babies
It was peaceful and you slept and there you stayed
Still he explores and rakes the absinthe green oceans
Though his mother has given him up for lost
Grinning and cursing with a few odd tears of contrition
Always in search of that land where life seems best
Loafing through hells and flocked through paradises
Calm and grinning, with a vanishing face
At times he still dreams of a small field he recognises
With a blue sky overhead and nothing else
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
The dream-ship
When the world is fast asleep,
Along the midnight skies--
As though it were a wandering cloud--
The ghostly dream-ship flies.
An angel stands at the dream-ship's helm,
An angel stands at the prow,
And an angel stands at the dream-ship's side
With a rue-wreath on her brow.
The other angels, silver-crowned,
Pilot and helmsman are,
And the angel with the wreath of rue
Tosseth the dreams afar.
The dreams they fall on rich and poor;
They fall on young and old;
And some are dreams of poverty,
And some are dreams of gold.
And some are dreams that thrill with joy,
And some that melt to tears;
Some are dreams of the dawn of love,
And some of the old dead years.
On rich and poor alike they fall,
Alike on young and old,
Bringing to slumbering earth their joys
And sorrows manifold.
The friendless youth in them shall do
The deeds of mighty men,
And drooping age shall feel the grace
Of buoyant youth again.
The king shall be a beggarman--
The pauper be a king--
In that revenge or recompense
The dream-ship dreams do bring.
So ever downward float the dreams
That are for all and me,
And there is never mortal man
Can solve that mystery.
But ever onward in its course
Along the haunted skies--
As though it were a cloud astray--
The ghostly dream-ship flies.
Two angels with their silver crowns
Pilot and helmsman are,
And an angel with a wreath of rue
Tosseth the dreams afar.
poem by Eugene Field
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Twentyfour Hours
Morning skies of blue,
morning drops of dew,
some overhead,
some beneath my feet,
They both come into view.
Afternoon sun so bright,
afternoon heat so white,
some on my skin
how I feel it burn.
It makes me welcome the night.
Evening sounds I hear,
evening sounds appear
when all is quiet,
no noise of the day
is there to interfere.
Peaceful dark of night,
peaceful with no light.
Nothing overhead
tucked up in my bed,
I've nothing but dreams in my sight.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The big sweet toothed shark
grinning towards the small fish
shows his rotten teeth
Lost In Childhood
Man doesn’t stop acting like child
Basically an animal but at heart very mild
Get all the excitations when see a small kid
Start feelings of an infant and try to lead
It is nice and worries free stage
All kind of thoughts pour in any age
Remain ever green and get boost at family gathering
Happiness and joy among members for sharing
So there lives small child at your heart
This one has been deliberately put by Him as part
As an age grows, person tends to become small boy
All sorts of naughtiness when look at children playing with toys
You never get matured with any kind of advancement
One may have lot more to remember and resent
Yet that stage is considered as divinely as heaven
Any one may want to be lost in dreams and driven
At slight pain we act like child and cry
We search for lonely place with emotional try
Shed tears and wipe out the eyes for the fear of being watched
Come out of it fast and very next moment another drama is launched
Youth may be spent in merry making
Joy all around and for claims staking
Search for companion and running after bride
Endless adventure with free gossips and nothing to hide
Then comes stage of most dreaded dream
Sometimes living alone with the break up in team
Children go away and leave behind pan and memory
What else to feel except loneliness and sorry!
What a joy to become horse and carry the children?
Kicks in belly and tapping on head all of sudden
Yes this one is only place when you get lost in childhood
So far life was just spent and not properly understood
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Is It The Station Of' The Lost and Lonely Soul…?
Where is the peace…?
In the whirring's of my mind,
Cartwheel after cartwheel
Even in these depths of rem sleep,
There is no slumber.
…Dreams come thick and fast:
As the snoring, begins its thunder…
Why, even now the world whistles
In the silence of this nightmare my lord
And even now, sleeping, hot-pulses
Race like a train, with a dead river
On board rolling through, empty-carriages.
O' now babies are being born …wailing
In my arms, awaiting, their mother.
'Lord what's this crazy station, called'?
Here where plastic surgeons…
Is working-out of' a dusty bivouac?
Doing, jigsaw body-part transplants.
With all these sights and sounds,
Now grinning, Lord, what are all these
Experimental insanities, for…?
O' am I just a mangy-dog running loose off the leash?
Where days blink-out of a bird-cage
O' here I see an albatross following me overhead.
O' lord, I call him my own Damien angel
But, lord he just walks-on the millet's of my life
Crushes it without morals, he's just a playful widow.
Making all kinds; of mischief with the living and dead.
'And, I'm just a red-flag, ready to fall…
Lord what's this crazy station, called'?
Am I just a mangy-dog running loose off your leash?
Listening to the silence; whistling endlessly mad.
Experimental insanities, whistling's endlessly mad like a thief.
In my head 'Lord what's this crazy station, called'?
Is it the station of' The Lost and Lonely Soul…?
poem by Mark Heathcote
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Youth and Calm
'Tis death! and peace, indeed, is here,
And ease from shame, and rest from fear.
There's nothing can dismarble now
The smoothness of that limpid brow.
But is a calm like this, in truth,
The crowning end of life and youth,
And when this boon rewards the dead,
Are all debts paid, has all been said?
And is the heart of youth so light,
Its step so firm, its eye so bright,
Because on its hot brow there blows
A wind of promise and repose
From the far grave, to which it goes;
Because it hath the hope to come,
One day, to harbour in the tomb?
Ah no, the bliss youth dreams is one
For daylight, for the cheerful sun,
For feeling nerves and living breath -
Youth dreams a bliss on this side death.
It dreams a rest, if not more deep,
More grateful than this marble sleep;
It hears a voice within it tell:
Calm's not life's crown, though calm is well.
'Tis all perhaps which man acquires,
But 'tis not what our youth desires.
poem by Matthew Arnold (1852)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
Vote! | Copy!
Before we sleep
Before we sleep
~
Before we go to sleep
see how we have all we need
a roof overhead, shelter
enough food and water
to have lined our stomachs
so we wont be left wanting
we also have each other
and those we love close by
that we know they are well
eases the one true worry
we could ask for more money
to buy the material trappings
to keep up with the neighbours
knowing we don't need them
but they are still nice to have
tonight we will not miss them
for we have all we need
a roof overhead, shelter
under which we shall sleep
poem by Matthew Holloway
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Unnamed Love
The Gloom,
I wandered through
screamed at me
like a wolf adoring
the new moon,
it howled at me,
to stop my search!
Overhead,
starry skies
kept staring at me,
like a virgin flirting
with her first crush,
they winked at me,
to stop my search!
The chilly breeze,
kept touching my hair
as a polite hooker,
it invited me to dance
with the night,
to stop my search!
The twinkling fireflies
caught up to me
as a cop stopping a car,
they signalled me,
to stop my search!
But...
for my own sake
and for my sanity
for the little that I call my life
for the continuation of my dreams
and for my unnamed love
I didn't...
I wouldn't...
I couldn't...
STOP!
poem by Pamuditha Zen Anjana
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Blue On Blue
Blue on blue
Skys in your eyes
Steer you away like I wasnt here
Where do you go when you fantasize
That you wish Id disappear
Leave you to dreaming and leave you alone
Lost in a world thats all your own
Can I come, too
Blue on blue
Dreams like you are making now
Are very hard to share
All I ask is one small favor
Dream a dream and wish me there
Gold on gold, sun in your hair
Spinning the rainbow, weaving the wind
Bluing the dye for the midnight air
Counting the gold at the rainbows end
Rapier princess whispers your name
Out of the time before I came
Ill never know
Gold on gold
Dreams like you are making now
Are very hard to share
All I ask is one small favor
Dream a dream and wish me there
Blue on blue
song performed by by Joni Mitchell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
An Old Lesson From The Fields
Even as I watched the daylight how it sped
From noon till eve, and saw the light wind pass
In long pale waves across the flashing grass,
And heard through all my dreams, wherever led,
The thin cicada singing overhead,
I felt what joyance all this nature has,
And saw myself made clear as in a glass,
How that my soul was for the most part dead.
Oh, light, I cried, and, heaven, with all your blue,
Oh, earth, with all your sunny fruitfulness,
And ye, tall lillies, of the wind-vexed field,
What power and beauty life indeed might yield,
Could we but cast away its conscious stress,
Simple of heart, becoming even as you.
poem by Archibald Lampman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The dreams
Two dreams came down to earth one night
From the realm of mist and dew;
One was a dream of the old, old days,
And one was a dream of the new.
One was a dream of a shady lane
That led to the pickerel pond
Where the willows and rushes bowed themselves
To the brown old hills beyond.
And the people that peopled the old-time dream
Were pleasant and fair to see,
And the dreamer he walked with them again
As often of old walked he.
Oh, cool was the wind in the shady lane
That tangled his curly hair!
Oh, sweet was the music the robins made
To the springtime everywhere!
Was it the dew the dream had brought
From yonder midnight skies,
Or was it tears from the dear, dead years
That lay in the dreamer's eyes?
The other dream ran fast and free,
As the moon benignly shed
Her golden grace on the smiling face
In the little trundle-bed.
For 't was a dream of times to come--
Of the glorious noon of day--
Of the summer that follows the careless spring
When the child is done with play.
And 't was a dream of the busy world
Where valorous deeds are done;
Of battles fought in the cause of right,
And of victories nobly won.
It breathed no breath of the dear old home
And the quiet joys of youth;
It gave no glimpse of the good old friends
Or the old-time faith and truth.
But 't was a dream of youthful hopes,
And fast and free it ran,
And it told to a little sleeping child
Of a boy become a man!
These were the dreams that came one night
To earth from yonder sky;
These were the dreams two dreamers dreamed--
My little boy and I.
And in our hearts my boy and I
Were glad that it was so;
He loved to dream of days to come,
And I of long ago.
So from our dreams my boy and I
Unwillingly awoke,
But neither of his precious dream
Unto the other spoke.
Yet of the love we bore those dreams
Gave each his tender sign;
For there was triumph in his eyes--
And there were tears in mine!
poem by Eugene Field
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Little Dell
Doleful was the land,
Dull on, every side,
Neither soft n'or grand,
Barren, bleak, and wide;
Nothing look'd with love;
All was dingy brown;
The very skies above
Seem'd to sulk and frown.
Plodding sick and sad,
Weary day on day;
Searching, never glad,
Many a miry way;
Poor existence lagg'd
In this barren place;
While the seasons dragg'd
Slowly o'er its face.
Spring, to sky and ground,
Came before I guess'd;
Then one day I found
A valley, like a nest!
Guarded with a spell
Sure it must have been,
This little fairy dell
Which I had never seen.
Open to the blue,
Green banks hemm'd it round
A rillet wander'd through
With a tinkling sound;
Briars among the rocks
Tangled arbours made;
Primroses in flocks
Grew beneath their shade.
Merry birds a few,
Creatures wildly tame,
Perch'd and sung and flew;
Timid field-mice came;
Beetles in the moss
Journey'd here and there;
Butterflies across
Danced through sunlit air.
There I often read,
Sung alone, or dream'd;
Blossoms overhead,
Where the west wind stream'd;
Small horizon-line,
Smoothly lifted up,
Held this world of mine
In a grassy cup.
The barren land to-day
Hears my last adieu:
Not an hour I stay;
Earth is wide and new.
Yet, farewell, farewell!
May the sun and show'rs
Bless that Little Dell
Of safe and tranquil hours!
poem by William Allingham
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The sphere boy asked
how come they are like that
grinning and evil and taking my smiles
away from me and my marble toys
they want to know
they want to know
how come they know so much
still grinning and evil and taking my hands
away from me into no embrace
they want to touch
they want to touch
how come they touch like that
grinning and evil and taking my shoes
away from me into a no path
they want to walk
they want to walk
how come they always walk backwards
grinning and evil and looking at me
still standing here with my marble toys
they want to play boy
they want to play
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Naming of Things.
That's a Small Skipper
Jane said
And that's a Clouded yellow
as two butterflies
flittered overhead
as you both lay
in the tall grass
on the side
of the Downs
and you followed
her finger
as it indicated
the butterflies' flight
and then they were gone
and she gazed at you
and said
What?
How do you know
the names of things?
I'm a country girl
not a townie like you
she replied
her lips moulding
the words like a potter
moulds clay
and you caught a whiff
of her perfume
carried on the calm breeze
over your heads
and you looked
at her there
in the grass
her head turned back
to the sky
her eyes reflecting
the summer blue
and her left leg
bent upwards
so that her knee
stood naked
beneath the sun
and her right hand
lay next to yours
the white blouse
open at the neck
and she said
I often used to lay here
alone listening
to the overhead birds
and the winds' moan
watching tractors
in the fields below
and mother wondering
where I was
And now?
you asked
Does she wonder
where you are now?
she turned her head
and gazed at you
No not now
she knows I'm with you
and that I'm showing you
the store of nature
and the panoramic view
And she trusts you?
you asked
sensing her hand
touch yours
the flesh warm
and soft
She trusts you
Jane said
and another butterfly
fluttered by
like a ballerina overhead.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Property is unstable, and youth perishes in a moment. Life itself is held in the grinning fangs of Death, Yet men delay to obtain release from the world. Alas, the conduct of mankind is surprising.
quote by Titus Maccius Plautus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
A Mother's Love
There are times when only a mother's Love
Can understand our tears..
Can soothe our disappointments;
Can calm our fears...
There are times when only a mother's Love..
Can Share the joy we feel,
Can give the confidence for what we dreamed about
Can turn the dreams real...
There are times when only the mother's faith
Can help us on life's way..
And stuff in us the encouragement
We need from day to day..
On this Marvellous occassion of Mother's Day..
All that AbZ could say:
'My mother is a divine creation;
For all that for me she always does pray...'
poem by Abhinit Chute
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Childs Play
Streams full and rushing
Young boy splashing
Wellies wet, dashing
Water lapping,
Small hands smacking.
Face wet, dripping.
Little boy grinning
Eyes wide, winning.
Photo taken, smiling
Memories making.
Enchanting.
poem by Robert Green
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Halloweed Be My Name
Gather round right now
And hear me whisper
The words of the prison
The words of laughter
The lords and the ladies
Were fixing their hair-dos
Cursing their lovers
Cursing the Bible
Hallow-ed by my name
Yelling at fathers
Screaming at mothers
Hallow-ed by my name
Come all you sinners
Come now in your glory
And my ears will listen
To your dirty stories
You're fighting to go up
You're sure on your way down
Cursing their lovers
Cursing the Bible
Hallow-ed by my name
Yelling at fathers
Screaming at mothers
Hallow-ed by my name
Sluts and the hookers
Have taken your money
The queens are out dancing
But now it's not funny
'Cause there goes one walkin'
Away with your sonny
Cursing their lovers
Cursing the Bible
Hallow-ed by my name
Yelling at fathers
Screaming at mothers
Hallow-ed by my name
song performed by by Alice Cooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Early Works - Oh To Be
Oh, to be at home again,
where lilies lie in fields
and larks fly overhead
while the sun warms each dropp of dew.
Oh, to be a child once more
in the spring of ones youth
to know the innocence of nature
in pastures always green.
Oh to see the green grass laze
as a breeze blows it to and fro
and know the perfume scent of flowers
along the hedgerows where they grow.
Oh, to be able to turn back the clock
that has too many times chimed,
and go back to our youth
of cartoons and nursery rhymes.
Oh, to be what will never be again
is and old mans plaintive joy
with wistful bouts of imagination
he wishes he were once more a boy.
10 August 2008
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Tommies lot
While general's drink their claret wine
In taverns far behind the lines
The English Tommy spills another wine
On Flanders table made from mothers pride
In front of guns in faltered stride
The sweet wine of youth seeps away
Dragging dreams of tomorrows men
Into broken hearts to be remembered by she.
A vintage lost to you and me
And, when autumns harvest came
The Tommy was the crop,
The Somme and Verdun is where life was stopped
And when winter froze the ground
The Tommy slept with reaper sound
Content to die with enemies damned
Caressed by yesterday's ghosts in this Flanders land
When loved ones sent letters from home
The Tommy bore silent pain alone
For tears are for lovers and kisses for wives
Now replaced by the tears of loss
And boys too young to find love
Their first kiss that of the bullet
For they were not too young to die
Though "mother" was often their last dying cry
Now the guns are silent
And the fields are green
The marble cross the epitaph to nightmares dream
In death the axis and Allies are equal
In life we failed to stop the sequel,
So remember that cross and remember these lads
Remember the wives and remember the dads
Rest in peace our brave Tommy lads.
poem by Steven Cooke
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!