all theories
like cliches
shot to hell,
all these small faces
looking up
beautiful and believing;
I wish to weep
but sorrow is
stupid.
I wish to believe but believe is a
graveyard.
we have narrowed it down to
the butcherknife and the
mockingbird
wish us
luck.
Tags: poem quote fire luck charles-bukowski
Oh, Man in the Moon"
"Oh, man in the moon, send an evening star to wink at my dreary eyes, and I shall make a wish for a peaceful world that spins with no more lies.
Oh, man in the moon, send the night's cool breeze to lull my leery heart, and I shall cast my fears to the wind with ease, and watch them all depart.
Oh, man in the moon, send the sandman's dust to rest my weary soul, and I shall slumber in happy dreams until the morning bells do toll.
Tags: poetry sleep dreams moon poem richelle man-in-the-moon richelle-goodrich slumber
So this is love:
the Sculptor’s chisel.
And stone, which in its whole life
does not utter a single word,
suddenly sings.
Tags: poem poetry-quotes rodin-s-lovers
Another day without no rain, is another day of sorrow.
And if it doesn't rain today, I hope it rains tomorrow.
osea, resumiendo, estoy jodido y radiante
Mario BenedettiTags: poem poema benedetti viceversa
Love much. Earth has enough of bitter in it.
Ella Wheeler WilcoxTags: love poem bitter insperational
My cup is yellow
Or not, though not's
Impossible
It's yellow
Tags: poetry poem yellow cup cups
We need each other yet, we bleed each other of the very life we are all drowning in with one another...
The1EssenceTags: poem saving-grace reflections-of-light the1essence
We stand now where two roads diverge. But unlike the roads in Robert Frost's familiar poem, they are not equally fair. The road we have long been traveling is deceptively easy, a smooth superhighway on which we progress with great speed, but at its end lies disaster. The other fork of the road — the one less traveled by — offers our last, our only chance to reach a destination that assures the preservation of the earth.
Rachel CarsonTags: poetry frost nature environment civilization poem survival earth preservation robert-frost
THE ONE WHO STAYED
You should have heard the old men cry,
You should have heard the biddies
When that sad stranger raised his flute
And piped away the kiddies.
Katy, Tommy, Meg and Bob
Followed, skipped gaily,
Red-haired Ruth, my brother Rob,
And little crippled Bailey,
John and Nils and Cousin Claire,
Dancin', spinnin', turnin',
'Cross the hills to God knows where-
They never came returnin'.
'Cross the hills to God knows where
The piper pranced, a leadin'
Each child in Hamlin Town but me,
And I stayed home unheedin'.
My papa says that I was blest
For if that music found me,
I'd be witch-cast like all the rest.
This town grows old around me.
I cannot say I did not hear
That sound so haunting hollow-
I heard, I heard, I heard it clear...
I was afraid to follow.
Tags: poem
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