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If you hear hoof beats, look for horses, not zebras.

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Lord Can You Hear

Lord can you hear my heart beat
Can you hear my heart beat
For you
With every beat
I'm closer to you
Lord can you hear my heart beat
For it's beating for you
Because everything you've given me
I'm using it to praise you
Lord can you hear my heart beat
It's beating out my love for you.

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The love I look for

The love I look for
Could not come from you.
My mind is set to fall
At Peterloo.
But you'ld protect me,
I'd be safe with you.
You could but love me
In the olden way,
With gifts of jewels, children,
Time to play,
Be man to woman
In the olden way.
The love that's love has
Other gifts to bring,
A share in weakness, dreams,
And suffering.
These are the only
Gifts I'd have to bring.
The love I look for
Does not come from you.
I see it dawning in
Deep eyes of blue.
I dare to hope for
Love, but not from you.

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All We Ever Look For

Just look at your father
And youll see how you took after him.
Me, Im just another
Like my brothers
Of my mothers genes.
All they ever want for you
Are the things they didnt do.
All they ever wanted--a little clue.
All they ever wanted--the truth.
All they ever wanted--a little bit of you.
All they ever wanted,
But they never did get.
The whims that were weeping for
Our parents would be beaten for
Leave the breast
And then the rest
And then regret you ever left.
All were ever looking for
Is another open door.
All we ever look for--another womb.
All we ever look for--our own tomb.
All we ever look for--ooh, la lune.
All we ever look for--a little bit of you, too.
All we ever look for,
But we never do score.
All we ever look for--a god.
All we ever look for--ooh, a drug.
All we ever look for--a great big hug.
All we ever look for--a little bit of you.
All we ever look for--a little bit of you, too.
All we ever look for,
But we never do score.

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Look For Me Baby

(look for me baby)
Well you can search high and low if you want
But you wont find me
(look for me baby)
Well, you search the mountains
Look in the sea
Look all around the world
But you wont find a love
A love like mine
Youll be low
And cry misery[? ]
cause you got no love
(look for me baby)
In your desperation
Youre going to look for someone else
Well now, search the mountains
Search the sea
Look around the world
But you wont find me
(look for me baby)
Youll be looking for me
(look for me baby)
Well now, Ive never felt so sad
Ive never had it so bad
Youll search the oceans
But you wont find me no more
Youll be looking for me
(look for me baby)
Well you can search high and low if you want
But you wont find me
(look for me baby)
Well you can climb the mountains
And swim in the sea
Look all around the world
But you wont find a love
A love like mine
Youll be low
And cry misery
cause you got no love
(look for me baby)
In your desperation
Youre going to look for someone else
Well now, search the mountains
Search the sea
Look around the world
But you wont find me
(look for me baby)
Youll be looking for me
(look for me baby)
Youll be looking for me
(look for me baby)
Youll be looking for me
(look for me baby)

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If You Look For Evil

If you look for evil good you cannot see
For your eyes only tell you what they want you in others to see
Of good and bad races you keep telling me
But your opinions are different to mine we see things differently.

I've worked with those of different races and backgrounds and in truth I can say
That people as a whole are quite good in their own way
Of different beliefs and cultures but I found them to be okay
If you show respect for others respect to you they will pay.

When you start comparing races you I do not wish to hear
your ignorance on such matters only based on your fear
Of those you see as different to you difference you cannot embrace
'Tis wrong to condemn people because of their race.

If you are only looking for flaws in those who are different to you then flaws you will find
To the good that is in them you do become blind
In this multicultural World your thinking renders you as small
One must admire those who believe in a fair go for all.

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Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

The Golden Legend: V. A Covered Bridge At Lucerne

_Prince Henry_. God's blessing on the architects who build
The bridges o'er swift rivers and abysses
Before impassable to human feet,
No less than on the builders of cathedrals,
Whose massive walls are bridges thrown across
The dark and terrible abyss of Death.
Well has the name of Pontifex been given
Unto the Church's head, as the chief builder
And architect of the invisible bridge
That leads from earth to heaven.

_Elsie_ How dark it grows!
What are these paintings on the walls around us?

_Prince Henry_ The Dance Macaber!

_Elsie_ What?

_Prince Henry_ The Dance of Death!
All that go to and fro must look upon it,
Mindful of what they shall be, while beneath,
Among the wooden piles, the turbulent river
Rushes, impetuous as the river of life,
With dimpling eddies, ever green and bright,
Save where the shadow of this bridge falls on it.

_Elsie._ O, yes! I see it now!

_Prince Henry_ The grim musician
Leads all men through the mazes of that dance,
To different sounds in different measures moving;
Sometimes he plays a lute, sometimes a drum,
To tempt or terrify.

_Elsie_ What is this picture?

_Prince Henry_ It is a young man singing to a nun,
Who kneels at her devotions, but in kneeling
Turns round to look at him, and Death, meanwhile,
Is putting out the candles on the altar!

_Elsie_ Ah, what a pity 't is that she should listen
to such songs, when in her orisons
She might have heard in heaven the angels singing!

_Prince Henry_ Here he has stolen a jester's cap and bells,
And dances with the Queen.

_Elsie_ A foolish jest!

_Prince Henry_ And here the heart of the new-wedded wife,
Coming from church with her beloved lord,
He startles with the rattle of his drum.

_Elsie_ Ah, that is sad! And yet perhaps 't is best
That she should die, with all the sunshine on her,
And all the benedictions of the morning,
Before this affluence of golden light
Shall fade into a cold and clouded gray,
Then into darkness!

_Prince Henry_ Under it is written,
'Nothing but death shall separate thee and me!'

_Elsie._ And what is this, that follows close upon it?

_Prince Henry_ Death, playing on a ducimer. Behind him,
A poor old woman, with a rosary,
Follows the sound, and seems to wish her feet
Were swifter to o'ertake him. Underneath,
The inscription reads, 'Better is Death than Life.'

_Elsie._ Better is Death than Life! Ah yes! to thousands
Death plays upon a dulcimer, and sings
That song of consolation, till the air
Rings with it, and they cannot choose but follow
Whither he leads. And not the old alone,
But the young also hear it, and are still.

_Prince Henry_ Yes, in their sadder moments. 'T is the sound
Of their own hearts they hear, half full of tears,
Which are like crystal cups, half filled with water.
Responding to the pressure of a finger
With music sweet and low and melancholy.
Let us go forward, and no longer stay
In this great picture-gallery of Death!
I hate it! ay, the very thought of it!

_Elsie._ Why is it hateful to you?

_Prince Henry._ For the reason
That life, and all that speaks of life, is lovely,
And death, and all that speaks of death, is hateful.

_Elsie._ The grave is but a covered bridge,
leading from light to light, through a brief darkness!

_Prince Henry (emerging from the bridge)._ I breathe again more
freely! Ah, how pleasant
To come once more into the light of day,
Out of that shadow of death! To hear again
The hoof-beats of our horses on firm ground,
And not upon those hollow planks, resounding
With a sepulchral echo, like the clods
On coffins in a churchyard! Yonder lies
The Lake of the Four Forest-Towns, apparelled
In light, and lingering, like a village maiden,
Hid in the bosom of her native mountains,
Then pouring all her life into another's,
Changing her name and being! Overhead,
Shaking his cloudy tresses loose in air,
Rises Pilatus, with his windy pines.

(_They pass on_.)

* * * * *

THE DEVIL'S BRIDGE.

* * * * *

PRINCE HENRY _and_ ELSIE _crossing, with attendants._

_Guide._ This bridge is called the Devil's Bridge.
With a single arch, from ridge to ridge,
It leaps across the terrible chasm
Yawning beneath us, black and deep,
As if, in some convulsive spasm,
the summits of the hills had cracked,
and made a road for the cataract,
That raves and rages down the steep!

_Lucifer (under the bridge)._ Ha! ha!

_Guide._ Never any bridge but this
Could stand across the wild abyss;
All the rest, of wood or stone,
By the Devil's hand were overthrown.
He toppled crags from the precipice,
And whatsoe'er was built by day
In the night was swept away;
None could stand but this alone.

_Lucifer (under the bridge)._ Ha! ha!

_Guide._ I showed you in the valley a boulder
Marked with the imprint of his shoulder;
As he was bearing it up this way,
A peasant, passing, cried, 'Herr Je!'
And the Devil dropped it in his fright,
And vanished suddenly out of sight!

_Lucifer (under the bridge)._ Ha! ha!

_Guide._ Abbot Giraldus of Einsiedel,
For pilgrims on their way to Rome,
Built this at last, with a single arch,
Under which, on its endless march,
Runs the river, white with foam,
Like a thread through the eye of a needle.
And the Devil promised to let it stand,
Under compact and condition
That the first living thing which crossed
Should be surrendered into his hand,
And be beyond redemption lost.

_Lucifer (under the bridge)._ Ha! ha! perdition!

_Guide._ At length, the bridge being all completed,
The Abbot, standing at its head,
Threw across it a loaf of bread,
Which a hungry dog sprang after,
And the rocks reechoed with peals of laughter
To see the Devil thus defeated!

(_They pass on_)

_Lucifer_ (_under the bridge_) Ha! ha! defeated!
For journeys and for crimes like this
To let the bridge stand o'er the abyss!

* * * * *

THE ST. GOTHARD PASS.

* * * * *

_Prince Henry._ This is the highest point. Two ways the rivers
Leap down to different seas, and as they roll
Grow deep and still, and their majestic presence
Becomes a benefaction to the towns
They visit, wandering silently among them,
Like patriarchs old among their shining tents.

_Elsie._ How bleak and bare it is! Nothing but mosses
Grow on these rocks.

_Prince Henry._ Yet are they not forgotten;
Beneficent Nature sends the mists to feed them.

_Elsie._ See yonder little cloud, that, borne aloft
So tenderly by the wind, floats fast away
Over the snowy peaks! It seems to me
The body of St. Catherine, borne by angels!

_Prince Henry._ Thou art St. Catherine, and invisible angels
Bear thee across these chasms and precipices,
Lest thou shouldst dash thy feet against a stone!

_Elsie._ Would I were borne unto my grave, as she was,
Upon angelic shoulders! Even now
I Seem uplifted by them, light as air!
What sound is that?

_Prince Henry_. The tumbling avalanches!

_Elsie_ How awful, yet how beautiful!

_Prince Henry_. These are
The voices of the mountains! Thus they ope
Their snowy lips, and speak unto each other,
In the primeval language, lost to man.

_Elsie_. What land is this that spreads itself beneath us?

_Prince Henry_ Italy! Italy!

_Elsie_ Land of the Madonna!
How beautiful it is! It seems a garden
Of Paradise!

_Prince Henry_. Nay, of Gethsemane
To thee and me, of passion and of prayer!
Yet once of Paradise. Long years ago
I wandered as a youth among its bowers,
And never from my heart has faded quite
Its memory, that, like a summer sunset,
Encircles with a ring of purple light
All the horizon of my youth.

_Guide_. O friends!
The days are short, the way before us long;
We must not linger, if we think to reach
The inn at Belinzona before vespers!

(_They pass on_.)

* * * * *

AT THE FOOT OF THE ALPS.

* * * * *

_A halt under the trees at noon_.

_Prince Henry_ Here let us pause a moment in the trembling
Shadow and sunshine of the roadside trees,
And, our tired horses in a group assembling,
Inhale long draughts of this delicious breeze
Our fleeter steeds have distanced our attendants;
They lag behind us with a slower pace;
We will await them under the green pendants
Of the great willows in this shady place.
Ho, Barbarossa! how thy mottled haunches
Sweat with this canter over hill and glade!
Stand still, and let these overhanging branches
Fan thy hot sides and comfort thee with shade!

_Elsie._ What a delightful landscape spreads before us,
Marked with a whitewashed cottage here and there!
And, in luxuriant garlands drooping o'er us,
Blossoms of grapevines scent the sunny air.

_Prince Henry._ Hark! what sweet sounds are those, whose accents holy
Fill the warm noon with music sad and sweet!

_Elsie._ It is a band of pilgrims, moving slowly
On their long journey, with uncovered feet.

_Pilgrims (chaunting the Hymn of St. Hildebert)_
Me receptet Sion illa,
Sion David, urbs tranquilla,
Cujus faber auctor lucis,
Cujus portae lignum crucis,
Cujus claves lingua Petri,
Cujus cives semper laeti,
Cujus muri lapis vivus,
Cujus custos Rex festivus!

_Lucifer (as a Friar in the procession)._ Here am I, too, in the
pious band,
In the garb of a barefooted Carmelite dressed!
The soles of my feet are as hard and tanned
As the conscience of old Pope Hildebrand,
The Holy Satan, who made the wives
Of the bishops lead such shameful lives.
All day long I beat my breast,
And chaunt with a most particular zest
The Latin hymns, which I understand
Quite as well, I think, as the rest.
And at night such lodging in barns and sheds,
Such a hurly-burly in country inns,
Such a clatter of tongues in empty heads,
Such a helter-skelter of prayers and sins!
Of all the contrivances of the time
For sowing broadcast the seeds of crime,
There is none so pleasing to me and mine
As a pilgrimage to some far-off shrine!

_Prince Henry._ If from the outward man we judge the inner,
And cleanliness is godliness, I fear
A hopeless reprobate, a hardened sinner,
Must be that Carmelite now passing near.

_Lucifer._ There is my German Prince again,
Thus far on his journey to Salern,
And the lovesick girl, whose heated brain
Is sowing the cloud to reap the rain;
But it's a long road that has no turn!
Let them quietly hold their way,
I have also a part in the play.
But first I must act to my heart's content
This mummery and this merriment,
And drive this motley flock of sheep
Into the fold, where drink and sleep
The jolly old friars of Benevent.
Of a truth, it often provokes me to laugh
To see these beggars hobble along,
Lamed and maimed, and fed upon chaff,
Chanting their wonderful piff and paff,
And, to make up for not understanding the song,
Singing it fiercely, and wild, and strong!
Were it not for my magic garters and staff,
And the goblets of goodly wine I quaff,
And the mischief I make in the idle throng,
I should not continue the business long.

_Pilgrims (chaunting)._ In hac uibe, lux solennis,
Ver aeternum, pax perennis,
In hac odor implens caelos,
In hac semper festum melos!

_Prince Henry._ Do you observe that monk among the train,
Who pours from his great throat the roaring bass,
As a cathedral spout pours out the rain,
And this way turns his rubicund, round face?

_Elsie._ It is the same who, on the Strasburg square,
Preached to the people in the open air.

_Prince Henry._ And he has crossed o'er mountain, field, and fell,
On that good steed, that seems to bear him well,
The hackney of the Friars of Orders Gray,
His own stout legs! He, too, was in the play,
Both as King Herod and Ben Israel.
Good morrow, Friar!

_Friar Cuthbert._ Good morrow, noble Sir!

_Prince Henry._ I speak in German, for, unless I err,
You are a German.

_Friar Cuthbert._ I cannot gainsay you.
But by what instinct, or what secret sign,
Meeting me here, do you straightway divine
That northward of the Alps my country lies?

_Prince Henry._ Your accent, like St, Peter's, would betray you,
Did not your yellow beard and your blue eyes,
Moreover, we have seen your face before,
And heard you preach at the Cathedral door
On Easter Sunday, in the Strasburg square
We were among the crowd that gathered there,
And saw you play the Rabbi with great skill,
As if, by leaning o'er so many years
To walk with little children, your own will
Had caught a childish attitude from theirs,
A kind of stooping in its form and gait,
And could no longer stand erect and straight.
Whence come you now?

_Friar Cuthbert._ From the old monastery
Of Hirschau, in the forest; being sent
Upon a pilgrimage to Benevent,
To see the image of the Virgin Mary,
That moves its holy eyes, and sometimes speaks,
And lets the piteous tears run down its cheeks,
To touch the hearts of the impenitent.

_Prince Henry._ O, had I faith, as in the days gone by,
That knew no doubt, and feared no mystery!

_Lucifer (at a distance)._ Ho, Cuthbert! Friar Cuthbert!

_Friar Cuthbert._ Farewell, Prince!
I cannot stay to argue and convince.

_Prince Henry._ This is indeed the blessed Mary's land,
Virgin and Mother of our dear Redeemer!
All hearts are touched and softened at her name;
Alike the bandit, with the bloody hand,
The priest, the prince, the scholar, and the peasant,
The man of deeds, the visionary dreamer,
Pay homage to her as one ever present!
And even as children, who have much offended
A too indulgent father, in great shame,
Penitent, and yet not daring unattended
To go into his presence, at the gate
Speak with their sister, and confiding wait
Till she goes in before and intercedes;
So men, repenting of their evil deeds,
And yet not venturing rashly to draw near
With their requests an angry father's ear,
Offer to her their prayers and their confession,
And she for them in heaven makes intercession.
And if our Faith had given us nothing more
Than this example of all womanhood,
So mild, so merciful, so strong, so good,
So patient, peaceful, loyal, loving, pure,
This were enough to prove it higher and truer
Than all the creeds the world had known before.

_Pilgrims (chaunting afar off)_. Urbs ccelestis, urbs beata,
Supra petram collocata,
Urbs in portu satis tuto
De longinquo te saluto,
Te saluto, te suspiro,
Te affecto, te requiro!

* * * * *

THE INN AT GENOA.

* * * * *

_A terrace overlooking the sea. Night._

_Prince Henry._ It is the sea, it is the sea,
In all its vague immensity,
Fading and darkening in the distance!
Silent, majestical, and slow,
The white ships haunt it to and fro,
With all their ghostly sails unfurled,
As phantoms from another world
Haunt the dim confines of existence!
But ah! how few can comprehend
Their signals, or to what good end
From land to land they come and go!
Upon a sea more vast and dark
The spirits of the dead embark,
All voyaging to unknown coasts.
We wave our farewells from the shore,
And they depart, and come no more,
Or come as phantoms and as ghosts.

Above the darksome sea of death
Looms the great life that is to be,
A land of cloud and mystery,
A dim mirage, with shapes of men
Long dead, and passed beyond our ken.
Awe-struck we gaze, and hold our breath
Till the fair pageant vanisheth,
Leaving us in perplexity,
And doubtful whether it has been
A vision of the world unseen,
Or a bright image of our own
Against the sky in vapors thrown.

_Lucifer (singing from the sea)_. Thou didst not make it, thou
canst not mend it,
But thou hast the power to end it!
The sea is silent, the sea is discreet,
Deep it lies at thy very feet;
There is no confessor like unto Death!
Thou canst not see him, but he is near;
Thou needest not whisper above thy breath,
And he will hear;
He will answer the questions,
The vague surmises and suggestions,
That fill thy soul with doubt and fear!

_Prince Henry_. The fisherman, who lies afloat,
With shadowy sail, in yonder boat,
Is singing softly to the Night!
But do I comprehend aright
The meaning of the words he sung
So sweetly in his native tongue?
Ah, yes! the sea is still and deep.
All things within its bosom sleep!
A single step, and all is o'er;
A plunge, a bubble, and no more;
And thou, dear Elsie, wilt be free
From martyrdom and agony.

_Elsie (coming from her chamber upon the terrace)._
The night is calm and cloudless,
And still as still can be,
And the stars come forth to listen
To the music of the sea.
They gather, and gather, and gather,
Until they crowd the sky,
And listen, in breathless silence,
To the solemn litany.
It begins in rocky caverns,
As a voice that chaunts alone
To the pedals of the organ
In monotonous undertone;
And anon from shelving beaches,
And shallow sands beyond,
In snow-white robes uprising
The ghostly choirs respond.
And sadly and unceasing
The mournful voice sings on,
And the snow-white choirs still answer
Christe eleison!

_Prince Henry._ Angel of God! thy finer sense perceives
Celestial and perpetual harmonies!
Thy purer soul, that trembles and believes,
Hears the archangel's trumpet in the breeze,
And where the forest rolls, or ocean heaves,
Cecilia's organ sounding in the seas,
And tongues of prophets speaking in the leaves.
But I hear discord only and despair,
And whispers as of demons in the air!

* * * * *

AT SEA.

* * * * *

_Il Padrone._ The wind upon our quarter lies,
And on before the freshening gale,
That fills the snow-white lateen sail,
Swiftly our light felucca flies.
Around, the billows burst and foam;
They lift her o'er the sunken rock,
They beat her sides with many a shock,
And then upon their flowing dome
They poise her, like a weathercock!
Between us and the western skies
The hills of Corsica arise;
Eastward, in yonder long, blue line,
The summits of the Apennine,
And southward, and still far away,
Salerno, on its sunny bay.
You cannot see it, where it lies.

_Prince Henry._ Ah, would that never more mine eyes
Might see its towers by night or day!

_Elsie._ Behind us, dark and awfully,
There comes a cloud out of the sea,
That bears the form of a hunted deer,
With hide of brown, and hoofs of black,
And antlers laid upon its back,
And fleeing fast and wild with fear,
As if the hounds were on its track!

_Prince Henry._ Lo! while we gaze, it breaks and falls
In shapeless masses, like the walls
Of a burnt city. Broad and red
The fires of the descending sun
Glare through the windows, and o'erhead,
Athwart the vapors, dense and dun,
Long shafts of silvery light arise,
Like rafters that support the skies!

_Elsie._ See! from its summit the lurid levin
Flashes downward without warning,
As Lucifer, son of the morning,
Fell from the battlements of heaven!

_Il Padrone._ I must entreat you, friends, below!
The angry storm begins to blow,
For the weather changes with the moon.
All this morning, until noon,
We had baffling winds, and sudden flaws
Struck the sea with their cat's-paws.
Only a little hour ago
I was whistling to Saint Antonio
For a capful of wind to fill our sail,
And instead of a breeze he has sent a gale.
Last night I saw St. Elmo's stars,
With their glimmering lanterns, all at play
On the tops of the masts and the tips of the spars,
And I knew we should have foul weather to-day.
Cheerily, my hearties! yo heave ho!
Brail up the mainsail, and let her go
As the winds will and Saint Antonio!

Do you see that Livornese felucca,
That vessel to the windward yonder,
Running with her gunwale under?
I was looking when the wind o'ertook her,
She had all sail set, and the only wonder
Is that at once the strength of the blast
Did not carry away her mast.
She is a galley of the Gran Duca,
That, through the fear of the Algerines,
Convoys those lazy brigantines,
Laden with wine and oil from Lucca.
Now all is ready, high and low;
Blow, blow, good Saint Antonio!

Ha! that is the first dash of the rain,
With a sprinkle of spray above the rails,
Just enough to moisten our sails,
And make them ready for the strain.
See how she leaps, as the blasts o'ertake her,
And speeds away with a bone in her mouth!
Now keep her head toward the south,
And there is no danger of bank or breaker.
With the breeze behind us, on we go;
Not too much, good Saint Antonio!

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Can You hear me knock...! ! ! ! !

Can You hear me knock?
At night all the doors are locked.

I feel so lost, searching just, roam.
Been to every place called Your home.

Come on, my child, calm down,
You don’t look good when you frown.

I always want to see you smile,
Sit; breathe in and out for a while.

In silence alone, you will find
Within you I forever reside.

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I Shall Not Look For You

you are gone
and you leave no note on the bed

i stare outside this room
and sees a field of grass
shadows of mountains
and a sunset

i shall not look for you
i am confident that now you have finally found a home

deep inside yourself you shall sing
and knowing that at last you are happy with yourself

i, too shall move on, close the door and take the walk
on the other side of the fence

it is nighttime and there are stars in the sky
i lay myself on the cold grass and i do not shiver a bit.

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Everytime I Look for You

I never found out why you left him
But this answer begs that question
Too blind to see tomorrow
Too broke to beg or borrow
Young and stupid
Left wide open
Hearts are wasted
Lives are broken

One more point of contention
I need some intervention
Approached with vague intentions
Betray my short attention
Span the distance
Bridge the border
Beg forgiveness
Round the corner

Everytime I look for you the sun goes down
And I stumble when this whole thing runs aground
I left another message

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If You Look For Meaning Of A Poem

if you look for the meaning of a poem
be disappointed
its meaning
is in the feeling

the feel of
a lightness like a cloud
(were you ever once a cloud?)
the feel of a feather
landing on your palms
and you do not
even
know it has
touched
you

be glad
a poem is
nothing
but
feelings

it has no
mind

you cannot
measure
its weight
and width
but it is so
huge
and
encompassing

it is there
it has arrived
occupying
the whole you
and you
never knew
that
for once it
ever happened.

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Those Voices You Hear Cheering Are For You

Come along.

'I don't want to go that way.
I am not familiar with it.'

Be strong.

'My strength has nothing to do with that.
That light is too bright.
And that is a fact! '

What's wrong?

'I know you've got 'something' up your sleeve.
Your face is too calm.
And your eyes,
Clear and happy.'

Take my arm.
Don't be alarmed.
You are awakening into full consciousness.
I am here to assist you with your steps.
And help you sever from this last addiction,
You have being in complete and total darkness.

Come along.
Those voices you hear cheering,
Are for you.

'What did I do? '

Wake up!

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Can You Hear It?

Written by ricky & marty wilde
Feel it in the rushing wind
Brushing up against your mind
Look for a way to go
Head for the border sign
You could be gone
You could be far away
Soon you must fly free
And yes
Somehow youll find what youve been missing
There was more to life
Than visions we had dreamed about
Can you hear it calling you?
Can you?
Can you hear it calling you?
Can you hear it coming through to you?
When you hear it calling you
Its your freedom
If you are on your own
If you have been betrayed
Stand by the truth you love
Dont let it get mislaid
Youre not alone
And nothing can hold you down
Soon you will be free
And yes
Somehow youll find what youve been missing
There was more to life
Than anything you dreamed about
Can you hear it calling you?
Can you?
Can you hear it calling you?
Can you hear it coming through to you?
When you hear it calling you
Its your freedom

song performed by Kim WildeReport problemRelated quotes
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You Have No Particular Reason For Being Happy

you are happiest
when you have no
particular reason
to be happy,

you do not
look for it
you do not
find it

it finds you,
and you
pick it up
in your hands
this bunch
of ripe grapes
hanging

falling
direct to
your
luscious
lips

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I'm sure you hear it too.

On the wings of darkness
your soul will latch.
darkness knows your heart
has a hole to patch.

It will wait
till you're all alone.
Waiting for the moment
when that guard sinks like stone.

It knows who you are,
where you've been and why.
You can't fight it,
but oh, you can try.

By the light-less moon
your soul shall fall.
You know you hear it-
darkness's call.

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Can You Hear God Calling? Song

Can you hear God calling you here on earth?
Because he is calling you from heaven
And I can hear him calling you from heaven all the way here on earth
But I believe that God needs you in heaven today only
Also you don't have to worry about being away from home for too long
Because I will promise you that God will bring you back when you will be Done in heaven
But it is up to God to decide in what he needs help with
And to tell you what he wants you to do for him in heaven

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Look For Me

Look for me in the sun set I’m there
The glorious sky and beautiful colors
Clouds meet the ocean heaven’s light has come down for you to see
Shining upon the sea’s waters so tranquil time stands still
The blue ocean goes on forever into the horizon with no end in sight
Look closely you will find me in the distance
As the sun sets I am still there
I’m beside you on the shore
I know your sad but don’t worry I’m fine
Where I am there is so much more
One day you will know my happiness
I promise we will be together again
Just like the morning sun will rise
I will be there waiting for you

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Save That Look For Someone Else

I want to make one thing perfectly clear!

'Okay.
And...
What is that? '

Oh no.
You are not going to try to trick me.
I know what you're up to.
You want me to provide clarity,
BEFORE your questions are asked.
Don't you?

'But,
I didn't ask you for clarity.
You volunteered.'

I see.
So now you want to take advantage of my honesty.
You think I'm stupid?
I am not volunteering anything,
Until I know what it is I am volunteering for.
And save that look for someone else.
No question?
No clarity.
And that's it!

'I am not going to suggest you have issues.'

Is that a question?
It didn't sound like one.

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Can you hear my soul sing?

The sounds of my soul are a symphony,
always a lilting melody.
There's never a minor chord to interfere
with all the sweet tones that I hear.

The quiet reflections are the rests
that pause in its ongoing quest
to proceed with violin strings so sweet
to heal the pierces that I meet.

The harps and orchestral sounds
allow my soul its leaps and bounds.
And the basso profundo is your touch
which reaches my soul in a tender clutch.

The treble sounds reach out to you
as only I can give to you.
For my soul has always sung a song
and consoled my body as I moved along.

I can hear it wherever I go.
Can you hear my soul sing?
I will wish it so.
Listen my love so you can hear
the song that I am for you, my dear

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Look For The Truth

All my dark dreams
Drift like smoke in the breeze
The fear grips me as I fall towards my sleep
Here comes the nightmare that never ends
Here is the dream that makes monsters of men
In the house of my soul
In rooms of ugliness and cold
Memories locked away
All the doubts and fears I never faced
Now they come again
I am falling down to meet with them
Fear within us all
Mine awake and they stand up tall
Look for the truth
Deepest cut of all from you
Knife of the truth
Blade of hatred slicing through
I pray my sleep will break
Maybe this time I wont wake
Weakness I hide so well
This dagger in my mind will tell
Its my final stand
I make a fist out of each hand
To the shadows of the past
Take a breath and I scream attack

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Hear My Voice

A woman with a child,
A writer with a pen,
As a light that shines in dark places;
So is my muse for you all in this world.
Hear my voice,
Look for me;
Like the mass suicide in Guyana.

Hear my voice,
Read my lines,
Like a personality caught with a prostitute;
Body pains for two when, the flower blooms.

In the year of release,
The fishermen will fish for them;
In the darkness of sin,
The hunters will hunt for them;
If today you will hear my voice.

To roar like a lion,
To think like a poet,
Like the woman who brought forth the man;
Learn a parable from the fig tree.

In the valleyof Berachah,
Gain knowledge after your experiences;
Cos', i have ideas behind the looked doors.
Talents so extaordinary to touch,
Today if you will hear my voice.

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