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Man On The Silver Mountain (Live)

I'm a wheel,I'm a wheel
I can roll,I can feel
And you can't stop me turning
Cause I'm the sun,I'm the sun
I can move,I can run
But you'll never stop me burning
Come down with fire
Life my spirit higher
Someone's screaming my name
Come and make me holy again
I'm the man on the silver mountain
I'm the man on the silver mountain
I'm the day,I'm the day
I can show you the way
And look I'm right beside you
I'm the night,I'm the night
I'm the dark and the light
With eyes that see inside you
Come down with fire
Life my spirit higher
Someone's screaming my name
Come and make me holy again
I'm the man on the silver mountain
I'm the man on the silver mountain
Come down with fire
Life my spirit higher
Someone's screaming my name
Come and make me holy again
I'm the man on the silver mountain
I'm the man on the silver mountain
Just look at me and listen
I'm the man,the man,give you my hand
Come down with fire
Life my spirit higher
I'm the man on the silver mountain
I'm the man on the silver mountain
I'm the night and the light
I'm the black and the white
The man on the silver mountain

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The Meeting

The elder folks shook hands at last,
Down seat by seat the signal passed.
To simple ways like ours unused,
Half solemnized and half amused,
With long-drawn breath and shrug, my guest
His sense of glad relief expressed.
Outside, the hills lay warm in sun;
The cattle in the meadow-run
Stood half-leg deep; a single bird
The green repose above us stirred.
'What part or lot have you,' he said,
'In these dull rites of drowsy-head?
Is silence worship? Seek it where
It soothes with dreams the summer air,
Not in this close and rude-benched hall,
But where soft lights and shadows fall,
And all the slow, sleep-walking hours
Glide soundless over grass and flowers!
From time and place and form apart,
Its holy ground the human heart,
Nor ritual-bound nor templeward
Walks the free spirit of the Lord!
Our common Master did not pen
His followers up from other men;
His service liberty indeed,
He built no church, He framed no creed;
But while the saintly Pharisee
Made broader his phylactery,
As from the synagogue was seen
The dusty-sandalled Nazarene
Through ripening cornfields lead the way
Upon the awful Sabbath day,
His sermons were the healthful talk
That shorter made the mountain-walk,
His wayside texts were flowers and birds,
Where mingled with His gracious words
The rustle of the tamarisk-tree
And ripple-wash of Galilee.'

'Thy words are well, O friend,' I said;
'Unmeasured and unlimited,
With noiseless slide of stone to stone,
The mystic Church of God has grown.
Invisible and silent stands
The temple never made with hands,
Unheard the voices still and small
Of its unseen confessional.
He needs no special place of prayer
Whose hearing ear is everywhere;
He brings not back the childish days
That ringed the earth with stones of praise,
Roofed Karnak's hall of gods, and laid
The plinths of Phil e's colonnade.
Still less He owns the selfish good
And sickly growth of solitude,--
The worthless grace that, out of sight,
Flowers in the desert anchorite;
Dissevered from the suffering whole,
Love hath no power to save a soul.
Not out of Self, the origin
And native air and soil of sin,
The living waters spring and flow,
The trees with leaves of healing grow.

'Dream not, O friend, because I seek
This quiet shelter twice a week,
I better deem its pine-laid floor
Than breezy hill or sea-sung shore;
But nature is not solitude
She crowds us with her thronging wood;
Her many hands reach out to us,
Her many tongues are garrulous;
Perpetual riddles of surprise
She offers to our ears and eyes;
She will not leave our senses still,
But drags them captive at her will
And, making earth too great for heaven,
She hides the Giver in the given.

'And so, I find it well to come
For deeper rest to this still room,
For here the habit of the soul
Feels less the outer world's control;
The strength of mutual purpose pleads
More earnestly our common needs;
And from the silence multiplied
By these still forms on either side,
The world that time and sense have known
Falls off and leaves us God alone.

'Yet rarely through the charmed repose
Unmixed the stream of motive flows,
A flavor of its many springs,
The tints of earth and sky it brings;
In the still waters needs must be
Some shade of human sympathy;
And here, in its accustomed place,
I look on memory's dearest face;
The blind by-sitter guesseth not
What shadow haunts that vacant spot;
No eyes save mine alone can see
The love wherewith it welcomes me!
And still, with those alone my kin,
In doubt and weakness, want and sin,
I bow my head, my heart I bare
As when that face was living there,
And strive (too oft, alas! in vain)
The peace of simple trust to gain,
Fold fancy's restless wings, and lay
The idols of my heart away.

'Welcome the silence all unbroken,
Nor less the words of fitness spoken,--
Such golden words as hers for whom
Our autumn flowers have just made room;
Whose hopeful utterance through and through
The freshness of the morning blew;
Who loved not less the earth that light
Fell on it from the heavens in sight,
But saw in all fair forms more fair
The Eternal beauty mirrored there.
Whose eighty years but added grace
And saintlier meaning to her face,--
The look of one who bore away
Glad tidings from the hills of day,
While all our hearts went forth to meet
The coming of her beautiful feet!
Or haply hers, whose pilgrim tread
Is in the paths where Jesus led;
Who dreams her childhood's Sabbath dream
By Jordan's willow-shaded stream,
And, of the hymns of hope and faith,
Sung by the monks of Nazareth,
Hears pious echoes, in the call
To prayer, from Moslem minarets fall,
Repeating where His works were wrought
The lesson that her Master taught,
Of whom an elder Sibyl gave,
The prophecies of Cuma 's cave.

'I ask no organ's soulless breath
To drone the themes of life and death,
No altar candle-lit by day,
No ornate wordsman's rhetoric-play,
No cool philosophy to teach
Its bland audacities of speech
To double-tasked idolaters
Themselves their gods and worshippers,
No pulpit hammered by the fist
Of loud-asserting dogmatist,
Who borrows for the Hand of love
The smoking thunderbolts of Jove.
I know how well the fathers taught,
What work the later schoolmen wrought;
I reverence old-time faith and men,
But God is near us now as then;
His force of love is still unspent,
His hate of sin as imminent;
And still the measure of our needs
Outgrows the cramping bounds of creeds;
The manna gathered yesterday
Already savors of decay;
Doubts to the world's child-heart unknown
Question us now from star and stone;
Too little or too much we know,
And sight is swift and faith is slow;
The power is lost to self-deceive
With shallow forms of make-believe.
W e walk at high noon, and the bells
Call to a thousand oracles,
But the sound deafens, and the light
Is stronger than our dazzled sight;
The letters of the sacred Book
Glimmer and swim beneath our look;
Still struggles in the Age's breast
With deepening agony of quest
The old entreaty: 'Art thou He,
Or look we for the Christ to be?'

'God should be most where man is least
So, where is neither church nor priest,
And never rag of form or creed
To clothe the nakedness of need,--
Where farmer-folk in silence meet,--
I turn my bell-unsummoned feet;'
I lay the critic's glass aside,
I tread upon my lettered pride,
And, lowest-seated, testify
To the oneness of humanity;
Confess the universal want,
And share whatever Heaven may grant.
He findeth not who seeks his own,
The soul is lost that's saved alone.
Not on one favored forehead fell
Of old the fire-tongued miracle,
But flamed o'er all the thronging host
The baptism of the Holy Ghost;
Heart answers heart: in one desire
The blending lines of prayer aspire;
'Where, in my name, meet two or three,'
Our Lord hath said, 'I there will be!'

'So sometimes comes to soul and sense
The feeling which is evidence
That very near about us lies
The realm of spiritual mysteries.
The sphere of the supernal powers
Impinges on this world of ours.
The low and dark horizon lifts,
To light the scenic terror shifts;
The breath of a diviner air
Blows down the answer of a prayer
That all our sorrow, pain, and doubt
A great compassion clasps about,
And law and goodness, love and force,
Are wedded fast beyond divorce.
Then duty leaves to love its task,
The beggar Self forgets to ask;
With smile of trust and folded hands,
The passive soul in waiting stands
To feel, as flowers the sun and dew,
The One true Life its own renew.

'So, to the calmly gathered thought
The innermost of truth is taught,
The mystery dimly understood,
That love of God is love of good,
And, chiefly, its divinest trace
In Him of Nazareth's holy face;
That to be saved is only this,--
Salvation from our selfishness,
From more than elemental fire,
The soul's unsanetified desire,
From sin itself, and not the pain
That warns us of its chafing chain;
That worship's deeper meaning lies
In mercy, and not sacrifice,
Not proud humilities of sense
And posturing of penitence,
But love's unforced obedience;
That Book and Church and Day are given
For man, not God,--for earth, not heaven,--
The blessed means to holiest ends,
Not masters, but benignant friends;
That the dear Christ dwells not afar,
The king of some remoter star,
Listening, at times, with flattered ear
To homage wrung from selfish fear,
But here, amidst the poor and blind,
The bound and suffering of our kind,
In works we do, in prayers we pray,
Life of our life, He lives to-day.'

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Temora - Book V

ARGUMENT.

The poet, after a short address to the harp of Cona, describes the arrangement of both armies on either side of the river Lubar. Fingal gives the command to Fillan; but at the same time orders Gaul, the son of Morni, who had been wounded in the hand in the preceding battle, to assist him with his counsel. The army of the Fir-bolg is commanded by Foldath. The general onset is described. the great actions of Fillan. He kills Rothmar and Culmin. But when Fillan conquers in one wing, Foldath presses hard on the other. He wounds Dermid, the son of Duthno, and puts the whole wing to flight. Dermid deliberates with himself. and, at last, resolves to put a stop to the progress of Foldath, by engaging him in single combat. When the two chiefs were approaching towards one another, Fillan came suddenly to the relief of Dermid; engaged Foldath, and killed him. The behavior of Malthos towards the fallen Foldath. Fillan puts the whole army, of the Fir-bolg to flight. The book closes with an address to Clatho, the mother of that hero.

THOU dweller between the shields that hang, on high, in Ossian's hall! Descend from thy place, O harp, and let me hear thy voice! Son of Alpin, strike the string. Thou must awake the soul of the bard. The murmur of Lora's stream has rolled the tale away. I stand in the cloud of years. Few are its openings towards the' past; and when the vision comes, it is but dim and dark. I hear thee, harp of Selma! my soul returns like a breeze, which the sun brings back to the vale, where dwelt the lazy mist.

Lubar is bright before me in the windings of its vale. On either side, on their hills, arise the tall forms of the kings. Their people are poured around them, bending forward to their words: as if their fathers spoke, descending from the winds. But they themselves are like two rocks in the midst; each with its dark head of pines, when they are seen in the desert, above low-sailing mist. High on their face are streams which spread their foam on blasts of wind!

Beneath the voice of Cathmor pours Erin, like the sound of flame. Wide they come down to Lubar. Before them is the stride of Foldath. But Cathmor retires to his hill, beneath his bending oak. The tumbling of a stream is near the king. He lifts, at times, his gleaming spear. It is a flame to his people, in the midst of war. Near him stands the daughter of Conmor, leaning on a rock. She did not rejoice at the strife. Her soul delighted not in blood. A valley spreads green behind the hill, with its three, blue streams. The sun is there in silence. The dun mountain roes come down. On these are turned the eyes of Sul-malla in her thoughtful mood.

Fingal beholds Cathmor, on high, the son of Borbar-duthul! he beholds the deep rolling of Erin, on the darkened plain. He strikes that warning boss, which bids the people to obey, when he sends his chief before them, to the field of renown. Wide rise their spears to the sun. Their echoing shields reply around. Fear, like a vapor, winds not among the host: for he, the king, is near, the strength of streamy Selma. Gladness brightens the hero. We hear his words with joy.

"Like the coming forth of winds, is the sound of Selma's sons! They are mountain waters, determined in their course. Hence is Fingal renowned. Hence is his name in other lands. He was not a lonely beam in danger: for your steps were always near! But never was Fingal a dreadful form, in your presence, darkened into wrath. My voice was no thunder to your ears. Mine eyes sent forth no death. When the haughty appeared, I beheld them not. They were forgot at my feasts. Like mist they melted away. A young beam is before you! Few are his paths to war! They are few, but he is valiant. Defend my dark-haired son. Bring Fillan back with joy. Hereafter he may stand alone. His form is like his fathers. His soul is a flame of their fire. Son of car-borne Morni, move behind the youth. Let thy voice reach his ear, from the skirts of war. Not unobserved rolls battle before thee, breaker of the shields."

The king strode, at once, away to Cormul's lofty rock. Intermitting darts the light from his shield, as slow the king of heroes moves. Sidelong rolls his eye o'er the heath, as forming advance the lines. Graceful fly his half-gray locks round his kingly features, now lightened with dreadful joy. Wholly mighty is the chief! Behind him dark and slow I moved. Straight came forward the strength of Gaul. His shield hung loose on its thong. He spoke, in haste, to Ossian. "Bind, son of Fingal, this shield! Bind it high to the side of Gaul. The foe may behold it, and think I lift the spear. If I should fall, let my tomb be hid in the field; for fall I must without fame. Mine arm cannot lift the steel. Let not Evir-choma hear it, to blush between her locks. Fillan, the mighty behold us! Let us not forget the strife. Why should they come from their hills, to aid our flying field!"

He strode onward, with the sound of his shield. My voice pursued him as he went. "Can the son of Morni fall, without his fame in Erin? But the deeds of the mighty are forgot by themselves. They rush carless over the fields of renown. Their words are never heard!" I rejoiced over the steps of the chief. I strode to the rock of the king, where he sat, in his wandering locks, amid the mountain wind!

In two dark ridges bend the host towards each other, at Lubar Here Foldath rises a pillar of darkness: there brightens the youth of Fillan. Each, with his spear in the stream, sent forth the voice of war. Gaul struck, the shield of Selma. At once they plunge in battle! Steel pours its gleam on steel: like the fall of streams shone the field, when they mix their foam together, from two dark-browed rocks! Behold he comes, the son of fame! He lays the people low! Deaths sit on blasts around him! Warriors strew thy paths, O Fillan!

Rothmar, the shield of warriors, stood between two chinky rocks. Two oaks, which winds had bent from high, spread their branches on either side. He rolls his darkening eyes on Fillan, and, silent, shades his friends. Fingal saw the approaching fight. The hero's soul arose. But as the stone of Loda falls, shook, at once, from rocking Drumanard, when spirits heave the earth in their wrath; so fell blue-shielded Rothmar.

Near are the steps of Culmin; the youth came, bursting into tears. Wrathful he cut the wind, ere yet he mixed his strokes with Fillan. He had first bent the bow with Rothmar, at the rock of his own blue streams. There they had marked the place of the roe, as the sunbeam flew over the fern. Why, son of Cul-allin! why, Culmin, dost thou rush on that beam of light? It is a fire that consumes. Son of Cul-allin, retire. Your fathers were not equal in the glittering strife of the field. The mother of Culmin remains in the hall. She looks forth on blue-rolling Strutha. A whirlwind rises, on the stream, dark-eddying round the ghost of her son. His dogs are howling in their place. His shield is bloody in the hall. "Art thou fallen, my fair-haired son, in Erin's dismal war?"

As a roe, pierced in secret, lies panting, by her wonted streams; the hunter surveys her feet of wind! He remembers her stately bounding before. So lay the son of Cul-allin beneath the eye of Fillan. His hair is rolled in a little stream. His blood wanders on his shield. Still his hand holds the sword, that failed him in the midst of danger. "Thou art fallen," said Fillan, "ere yet thy fame was heard. Thy father sent thee to war. He expects to hear of thy deeds. He is gray, perhaps, at his streams. His eyes are towards Moi-lena. But thou shalt not return with the spoil of the fallen foe!"

Fillan pours the flight of Erin before him, over the resounding heath. But, man on man, fell Morven before the dark-red rage of Foldath: for, far on the field, he poured the roar of half his tribes. Dermid stands before him in wrath. The sons of Selma gathered around. But his shield is cleft by Foldath. His people fly over the heath.

Then said the foe in his pride, "They have fled. My fame begins! Go, Malthos, go bid Cathmor guard the dark rolling of ocean; that Fingal may not escape from my sword. He must lie on earth. Beside some fen shall his tomb be seen. It shall rise without a song. His ghost shall hover, in mist, over the reedy pool."

Malthos heard, with darkening doubt. He rolled his silent eyes. He knew the pride of Foldath. He looked up to Fingal on his hills; then darkly turning, in doubtful mood, he plunged his sword in war.

In Clono's narrow vale, where bend two trees above the stream, dark, in his grief, stood Duthno's silent son. The blood pours from the side of Dermid. His shield is broken near. His spear leans against a stone. Why, Dermid, why so sad? "I hear the roar of battle. My people are alone. My steps are slow on the heath and no shield is mine. Shall he then prevail? It is then after Dermid is low! I will call thee forth, O Foldath, and meet thee yet in fight."

He took his spear, with dreadful joy. The son of Morni came. "Stay, son of Duthno, stay thy speed. Thy steps are marked with blood. No bossy shield is thine. Why shouldst thou fall unarmed?" — "Son of Morni, give thou thy shield. It has often rolled back the war! I shall stop the chief in his course. Son of Morni, behold that stone! It lifts its gray head through grass. There dwells a chief of the race of Dermid. Place me there in night."

He slowly rose against the hill. He saw the troubled field: the gleaming ridges of battle, disjointed and broken around. As distant fires, on heath by night, now seem as lost in smoke: now rearing their red streams on the hill, as blow or cease the winds; so met the intermitting war the eye of broad-shielded Dermid. Through the host are the strides of Foldath, like some dark ship on wintry waves, when she issues from between two isles to sport on resounding ocean!

Dermid with rage beholds his course. He strives to rush along. But he fails amid his steps; and the big tear comes down. He sounds his father's horn. He thrice strikes his bossy shield. He calls thrice the name of Foldath, from his roaring tribes. Foldath, with joy, beholds the chief. He lifts aloft his bloody spear. As a rock is marked with streams, that fell troubled down its side in a storm; so streaked with wandering blood, is the dark chief of Moma! The host on either side withdraw from the contending kings. They raise, at once, their gleaming points. Rushing comes Fillan of Selma. Three paces back Foldath withdraws, dazzled with that beam of light, which came, as issuing from a cloud, to save the wounded chief. Growing in his pride he stands. He calls forth all his steel.

As meet two broad-winged eagles, in their sounding strife, in winds: so rush the two chiefs, on Moi-lena, into gloomy fight. By turns are the steps of the kings [Fingal and Cathmor] forward on their rocks above; for now the dusky war seems to descend on their swords. Cathmor feels the joy of warriors!, on his mossy hill: their joy in secret, when dangers rise to match their souls. His eye is not turned on Lubar, but on Selma's dreadful king. He beholds him, on Mora, rising in his arms.

Foldath falls on his shield. The spear of Fillan pierced the king. Nor looks the youth on the fallen, but onward rolls the war. The hundred voices of death arise. "Stay, son of Fingal, stay thy speed. Beholdest thou not that gleaming form, a dreadful sign of death? Awaken not the king of Erin. Return, son of blue-eyed Clatho."

Malthos beholds Foldath low. He darkly stands above the chief. Hatred is rolled from his soul. He seems a rock in a desert, on whose dark side are the trickling of waters; when the slow-sailing mist has left it, and all its trees are blasted with winds. He spoke to the dying hero about the narrow house. "Whether shall thy gray stones rise in Ullin, or in Moma's woody land; where the sun looks, in secret, on the blue streams of Dalrutho? Them are the steps of thy daughter, blue-eyed Dardu-lena!"

"Rememberest thou her," said Foldath, "because no son is mine; no youth to roll the battle before him, in revenge of me? Malthos, I am revenged. I was not peaceful in the field. Raise the tombs of those I have slain, around my narrow house. Often shall I forsake the blast, to rejoice above their graves; when I behold them spread around, with their long-whistling grass."

His soul rushed to the vale of Moma, to Dardu-lena's dreams, where she slept, by Dalrutho's stream, returning from the chase of the hinds. Her bow is near the maid, unstrung. The breezes fold her long hair on her breasts. Clothed in the beauty of youth, the love of heroes lay. Dark bending, from the skirts of the wood, her wounded father seemed to come. He appears, at times, then hid himself in mist. Bursting into tears she arose. She knew that the chief was low. To her came a beam from his soul, when folded in its storms. Thou wert the last of his race, O blue-eyed Dardu-lena.

Wide spreading over echoing Lubar, the flight of Bolga is rolled along. Fillan hangs forward on their steps. He strews, with dead, the heath. Fingal rejoices over his son. Blue-shielded Cathmor rose.

Son of Alpin, bring the harp. Give Fillan's praise to the wind. Raise high his praise in mine ear, while yet he shines in war.

"Leave, blue-eyed Clatho, leave thy hail! Behold that early beam of thine! The host is withered in its course. No further look, it is dark. Light trembling from the harp, strike, virgins, strike the sound. No hunter he descends from the dewy haunt of the bounding roe. He bends not his bow on the wind; nor sends his gray arrow abroad.

"Deep folded in red war! See battle roll against his side. Striding amid the ridgy strife, he pours the death of thousands forth. Fillan is like a spirit of heaven, hat descends from the skirt of winds. The troubled ocean feels his steps, as he strides from wave to wave. His path kindles behind him. Islands shake their heads on the heaving seas! Leave, blue-eyed Clatho, leave thy hall!"

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Damn Dark Brown Eyes

Let me start with one corner
The other corner is wide
In between there’s whole world
The truth, the lies and the skies

The mountains high and blue sky
I can see it all through the reflection of light
The beauties of it describes
What’s the world with a smile thats so bright

Oh! Your damn dark brown eyes
Tells the story of your innocence with no surprise
The whole world is beautiful if I look through those eyes
You have lovely damn dark brown eyes

The darkest small round thing in between your eyes
Rotates around as you don’t keep watching tight
Then those dark brown things which covers your eyes
Feels like a ocean with a deep divine

Whenever I stare at your damn dark brown eyes
I feel to get more and more inside
The ocean looks so deep and waves so strong
And all those pixels describes that you have something inside

Oh! Your damn dark brown eyes
Makes me feel to swim inside
Yes, I am floating in my imagination
How would be the ocean inside your eyes

When you smile, I can feel it from your eyes
It tells everything that I desire to find
It makes you lovely as lovely as you are always with a smile
Cause you’ve got that damn dark brown eyes.

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Patrick White

I Could Look At It With Sweeter Eyes

I could look at it with sweeter eyes.
The way boys and cowards romanticize war.
I could emphasize the honeysuckle and fireflies.
I could say that's not a noose in my hand, it's an ankh.
I could run an extortion racket of jukebox mirrors
and have them placed in all the best cafes
so when you put a quarter moon in
they reflect anything you ask them to.
You've got a beautiful face. Man
are you smart. Yes, you're the son of Zeus
and I'm the oracle of Amun at Siwa.

And every occasion I can with integrity
I try to. I praise the larkspur.
I'm exhilarated by the waterlilies
that have almost come to mean
as much to me as the stars on a summer night.
I rejoice in extraordinarily ordinary events
between people, I don't expect to experience again
the way he walks beside her like a green crutch
coming into bloom and leafing like a loveletter
trying to be a strong tree she can lean on,
and so much is so crucial to a blessed few
or a father walking down the street,
listening to his daughter as if she were the Buddha
or middle C and he had to keep his eighty-eights straight.

Born a cellular optimist or too stupid to be a cynic,
though there are days I live like a dog,
and I know that denying this suggestive reality
is to summon its affirmation as if
something in the context of life heard you
and though you're never certain, out to prove you wrong.
And likewise endorsing it, invites its denial.

This is the middle extreme and it should be lived
immensely with intensity like a Sufi gyroscope
in dynamic equilibrium with your wingspan
whether you're homing to a sacred grove for the night
and your heart is a bell of shadows
or you're one of the good sugars of life
fulfilled by the dawn where all the birds
sound like one harmony, but if you listen a little harder,
they're all out of tune with each other,
this one a bass run and that an arpeggio
on a water flute that can hold a note like a dropp of dew
on the tongue of a blade of stargrass when it wants to.
When the long wavelengths of its tears
aren't breaking ashore like a menagerie of glass horses.

My mystic guestimate is. In the dark beyond
the blazing memes that have yet to light a candle to the stars,
love silvers the harvest of the heart in moonlight
and comes by day with a golden scythe to thresh it,
and an understanding that puts its trust in the future of life
like a windfall of apples swarmed by wasps like a train
that had jumped its tracks, or dozens of whales
were beached overnight and crushed their lungs
under their own weight, though that wasn't as buoyant
as the previous metaphor, nevertheless it's not
an injudicious verisimilitude for what I'm getting at.

If your passion for anything is ferocious enough
sooner or later you're going to meet a nemetic dragon
though I'm sure that's just a dream cloak
for projecting my anxieties onto a blaze
of cold-blooded reptiles with inflammable wings,
and you're going to look deeply into the fangs of its eyes
as if you had to go through this ordeal
to suffer for what you love to prove you're real.
Today I lived like one long mouthless scream.
I could have kicked stars in someone's face.

Too much of a black farce to be the credible dream
of the air corridor I'm trying to sustain
like a black hole to the other side of the hourglass
that's timing all this like a heartbeat of picture-music.
Now I'm writing poetry beside an aquarium
at two in the morning with three goldfish
hovering in their sleep beside me like hummingbirds
gone back to the sea as we all do eventually.
And it feels good to see the likeness in disparate things
and bring them together like the moon on the mindstream,
maple fire dancing to the rhythm of northern water,
and though it's impossible to assess the worth
of what I'm doing as a poet in the twenty-first century
I can feel the compassion of a crazy wisdom
in every feather of light that falls to earth like Icarus.

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Dark Light

Look out, cause theres something wrong
And you dont know what it is
Watch out, or its sodom and gommorah
The malevolent order
Right now, before its much too late
Before its much too late
A dark light---a darkness never ending
A dark light---the devil gets his due
A dark night---is everywhere descending
A dark light---is coming for you
Now look up, well the skies are black
And theyre getting darker all the time
Watch out, for the things that you believe in
Youre gonna be attacked,
And you wont know what it is
Wise up, you better watch your step
You better watch your step
A dark light---a darkness never ending
A dark light---of perversion and hate
A dark night---is everywhere descending
A dark light---theres no time to wait
Look out, for the death of love
There will be no more love
Watch out, its yourself that you are fooling
Who do you think youre fooling
Shout it out, its a terrible thing
Such a terrible thing
A dark light---a darkness never ending
A dark light---the sun is turning cool
A dark night---is everywhere descending
A dark light---is shining at you
Dark light, dark light
Is shining at you, dark light

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Do Not Look At Me Using Your Eyes Of Pity

please, if you let me live
for tomorrow
do not look at me using your eyes
of pity
i may melt like plastic
in the fire
of your arrogance

look at me with dignity
treat me like
a self that is strong
and unbeaten

let me rise
like a sun hidden from the mountains
let me be myself
rising from my own ruins
let me be a bird
repairing its own broken wings

do not even touch me
inspire me with the fire
of your longings
help me bring in
the winds of ambition
push me up
stir me with my own
fuel
so i may again be a rocket
piercing
my own skies

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Burning Fire in My Heart

There is a burning fire, within each one's heart
There is a loving desire, within each one's heart
There is a person even higher, within each one's heart

In your heart, is there a thought of the one you love so much more
In your heart, is there a candle burning for the people you care for
In your heart, is there a light for the person who will open the door

In my heart, there is a melody of love so true
In my heart, there is a star made for you
In my heart, there is a love, reaching for the blue

In my heart, there is a burning fire


http: //www.chunitana.com

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Rainman

Your silence breaks my mind now
Every chance I see
Your eyes that look so straight thru
Thru myself and part of you
You cant help your feelings
Hard to keep for yourself
Your strength has been diminished
Never knew your psychic health
Youre wrong - not right
You judge yourself in pain
Maintain revealing less than whats
Behind these eyes where theres just rain
Chorus:
Rainman
Sympathetic views restrained
Till the end of the circle
Seems to be the only saint
What life can offer you
Tomorrow is another day
You will get up and feel
The fear that makes your blood run cold
But you belive its predestiny
Youre wrong - not right
You judge yourself in pain
Maintain revealing less than whats
Behind these eyes where theres just rain
Chorus

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This Is for You

I feel like I have been blind
It was not until I realised you were gone
That I realised how special you really are
Having you there, even though we never talked
It was a comfortable distance we kept
Keeping our conversations strictly limited
Now I look to roll back time
Ask you all the questions I have now
Tell you how beautiful I find you
How really special I think you are
Time is a privilege we all abuse
None of us stop to appreciate anymore
Those moments which seem to pass so fast
I wonder if I held my breath I could slow time
Capture that look once more in your eyes
See the smile and colour in you
Always you will remain beautiful
And given that time comes to an end
It’s a fact none of can contest
I want to tell you now if its not too late
I love you in so many ways

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Stage Fright

Now deep in the heart of a lonely kid
Who suffered so much for what he did,
They gave this ploughboy his fortune and fame,
Since that day he aint been the same.
See the man with the stage fright
Just standin up there to give it all his might.
And he got caught in the spotlight,
But when we get to the end
He wants to start all over again.
Ive got fire water right on my breath
And the doctor warned me I might catch a death.
Said, you can make it in your disguise,
Just never show the fear thats in your eyes.
See the man with the stage fright,
Just standin up there to give it all his might.
He got caught in the spotlight,
But when we get to the end
He wants to start all over again.
Now if he says that hes afraid,
Take him at his word.
And for the price that the poor boy has paid,
He gets to sing just like a bird, oh, ooh ooh ooh.
Your brow is sweatin and your mouth gets dry,
Fancy people go driftin by.
The moment of truth is right at hand,
Just one more nightmare you can stand.
See the man with the stage fright
Just standin up there to give it all his might.
And he got caught in the spotlight,
But when we get to the end
He wants to start all over again, hmm hmm,
You wanna try it once again, hmm hmm,
Please dont make him stop, hmm hmm,
Let him take it from the top, hmm hmm,
Let him start all over again.

song performed by Bob DylanReport problemRelated quotes
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Terra Nova

Oh end this day show me the ocean
When shall I see the sea
May this day set me in emotion
I ought to be on my way
We were there
We were sailing on the terra nova
Sailing for the setting sun
Sailing for the new horizon
May this day show me an ocean
I ought to be on my way
Ought to be on my way right now
Stepping on the boat
With a lump in my throat
On my way right now
I got a letter from a dear friend of mine
The story of a spiritual awakening
She spoke of her love
Returning in kind
She let me know that
Shed be waiting
And I should be on my way by now
Walking across the floor
Reaching for the door
On my way by now
But here I sit country fool that I am
My elbow on my knee
And my chin in my hand
My mind in the gutter
And my eye on the street
Holed up in a cave of concrete
And I ought to be on my way right now
Packing my things
While the telephone rings
On my way right now
I miss my lovely mother
And I love my lonely father
I know I owe my brothers
One thing and another
I hear my sister singing
And I ought to be on my way right now
Moving across the land
With my heart in my hand
On my way by now
Ought to be on my way by now
Oh end this day set me in motion
Ought to be on my way
Out of the west of lamberts cove
Theres a sail out in the sun
And Im on board though very small
Ive come home to stop yearning
Burn off the haze around the shore
Turn off the crazy way I feel
Ill stay away from you no more
Ive come home to stop yearning

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Save every Victory

laid-back and relaxed
the field is waiting, the
game still fighting

shield all that fits,
the heat keeps on watching
as the day close the
night with light

pouring out all your sweat,
makes every game taste
strong, look and feel your taste,
every strength, even the
feet rush to stop

hold your memory smile,
the time quest for victory,
as it think no second time
be the tick -tack of the clock
and your be safe to go
back in your little time of Life

speed abundantly holds,
the sweet time of your stay,
be aware...

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Black Night White Light

(gill/johnson/nash/otoole)
We are the leaders
And nothing can beat us
I feel so good
The angels can take you there
You better beware
Of devil may care
*tell me where you want to go
We are the leaders
Heavens above and hells below
We are the leaders
Oh sing hallelujah sing hallelujah
Giving it to you
We are the leaders
**black night white light
The other side of midnight
The pleasure seekers
Are dyin to meet you
They need young blood
The devil may take you there
You better take care
Youve every ware
*(repeat)
Chasing the dragon
Get off that wagon boy-yeah
Rub your body up
Work it up so good
Got to get on up
Going up show it off-yeah
**(repeat twice)
Were on a journey
Into the light it feels so good
Your mind can take you there
With what is the call
Of body and soul
Your body and soul

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Dark Air Dark Light

Where lifeless rivers weep
With shame, into the deep,
She sleeps a pained sleep:
Flows with rot.
killed by ugly progressing war,
She has lived so far
To live where darkness are
Alas! Sad lot.

She left the bright morn,
She passes meadows of corn,
For world sad and porn,
And dark springs.
Through dark like black veil,
She sees the sky, pale,
And hears the birds' mail,
That sadly sings.

Dark air and dark light,
Moves over bed and breast;
Her face is without rest,
Mothers only wasteland.
She lives with ugly pain,
Crossing over hill and plain,
You cannot feel the sail
Upon your hand.

Dark air and dark lore,
Upon stinking and thorny shore;
Rot, rot at every core
Till hunger shall cease:
Sleep that no sound shall cut;
Night that no morn shall shut,
Till all greed is met,
With perfect peace.

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I Think Im In Love

(cecile azarcon)
Is, this love
Feeling restless inside
Wanting you
To always be my side
I dont even want you out of my side
You are in my thoughts all day and night
I cant get you out of my mind
I think Im in love
Refrain:
I think Im in love
Think Im in love with you
Every single day
Every single night
Every single moment of my life
I want to spend them all with you
I think Im in love
I think Im in love
I think Im in love with you
Tell me that you care
Tell me...please
Tell me that you also feel
The way that I do...
Cant describe
Words are just not enough
Cant explain
It all happened so fast
What exactly am I feeling right now
If this is love I got to know somehow
Just how long this madness will last
cause I think Im in love
I think Im in love
Think Im in love with you
Every single day
Every single night
Every single moment of my life
I want to spend them all with you
I think Im in love
I think Im in love
I think Im in love with you
Tell me that you care
Tell me...please
Tell me that you also feel
The way that I do...
I think Im in love
Think Im in love with you
Every single day
Every single night
Every single moment of my life
I want to spend them all with you
I think Im in love
I think Im in love
I think Im in love with you
Tell me that you care
Tell me...please
Tell me that you also feel
The way that I do...
Ohh ahh...

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Unknown Woman

Above the restaurants in the evenings
The sultry air is wild and still,
And the decaying breath of spring
Drives drunken shouting.

Above the dusty distant lanes
The boredom of summer homes,
The baker's gold sign barely shines
And a child's crying rings out.

Each night, beyond the crossing gates,
With bowler hats tipped rakishly,
The practiced wits stroll with the ladies
Among the drainage ditches.

Out on the lake, oarlocks creak
And a woman starts to squeal,
While up in the sky, inured to it all,
The moon's disk senselessly leers.

Each night my solitary friend
Is reflected in my glass,
Made meek and reeling, like myself,
By the mysterious, astringent liquid.

And drowsy lackeys lounge about
Beside the adjacent tables
While drunks with rabbit eyes cry out
'In vino veritas!'

And each night at a certain hour
(Or am I only dreaming it?),
A girl's figure, swathed in silk,
Moves across the misty window.

And slowly passing among the drunks,
Always alone and unescorted,
Wafting a breath of perfume and mist,
She takes a table by the window.

And an air of ancient legend
Wreaths her resilient silks,
Her hat with its funereal plumes,
And her slender ringed hand.

And entranced by this strange nearness,
I look through her dark veil,
And see an enchanted shore
And a horizon enchanted.

Deep secrets are entrusted to me,
Someone's sun is in my care,
And at every turn, astringent wine
Pierces my soul.

And drooping ostrich plumes
Waver in my brain,
And fathomless blue eyes
Bloom on the distant shore.

A treasure lies in my soul,
And the key belongs to me alone!
You are correct, you drunken fiend!
I know it: wine brings truth.

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Second Best

Here in the dark, O heart;
Alone with the enduring Earth, and Night,
And Silence, and the warm strange smell of clover;
Clear-visioned, though it break you; far apart
From the dead best, the dear and old delight;
Throw down your dreams of immortality,
O faithful, O foolish lover!
Here's peace for you, and surety; here the one
Wisdom - the truth! - 'All day the good glad sun
Showers love and labour on you, wine and song;
The greenwood laughs, the wind blows, all day long
Till night.' And night ends all things.
Then shall be
No lamp relumed in heaven, no voices crying,
Or changing lights, or dreams and forms that hover!
(And, heart, for all your sighing,
That gladness and those tears are over, over. . . .)

And has the truth brought no new hope at all,
Heart, that you're weeping yet for Paradise?
Do they still whisper, the old weary cries?
‘’Mid youth and song, feasting and carnival,
Through laughter, through the roses,as of old
Comes Death, on shadowy and relentless feet,
Death, unappeaseable by prayer or gold;
Death is the end, the end!’
Proud, then, clear-eyed and laughing, go to greet
Death as a friend!

Exile of immortality, strongly wise,
Strain through the dark with undesirous eyes
To what may lie beyond it. Sets your star,
O heart, for ever! Yet, behind the night,
Waits for the great unborn, somewhere afar,
Some white tremendous daybreak. And the light,
Returning, shall give back the golden hours,
Ocean a windless level, Earth a lawn
Spacious and full of sunlit dancing-places,
And laughter, and music, and, among the flowers,
The gay child-hearts of men, and the child-faces
O heart, in the great dawn!

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You Thought Wrong

I see how your trying to weasel
your way in
boy I know how you maneuveur
with your confusion
you tell me that I'm your only
and how bad that you want me
well then why are you so shady
if I'm supposed to be your lady
why should I believe anything you say
and how could you shame me that way
tell me where where did you get the nerve
to even think that you you could
play me wrong
you thought we didn't know
you thought we were in the dark
but boy your covers blown
cause we both know now
you thought you had us fooled
at your beck & call
but now who's the joke
and look who's laughing now
now your trying to use us against one another
but it won't work
I see right though your game boy
and I know exactly where to play boy
you tried to deny all your actions
for once in your life be a real man
at least give me the proper respect
of the truth I already know you did it
why should I believe anyting you say
and how could you shame me that way
tell me where did you get the nerve
to even think that you could
play me wrong
you thought we didn't know
you thought we were in the dark
but boy your covers blown
cause we both know now
you thought you had us fooled
at your beck & call
but now who's the joke
and look who's laughing now
I see right through you baby
try not to be like you don't want me
why don't you get it through your thick head
cause I've seen this game before
and I'm not trying to see it no more
SHUT YOUR MOUTH
I'm not trying to hear your lies
no not again
sorry you couldn't be a better man
you thought we didn't know
you thought we were in the dark
but boy your covers blown
cause we both know now
you thought you had us fooled
at your beck & call
but now who's the joke
and look who's laughing now
Guess you thought wrong
look who's laughing now
You stupid

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Not same again

I wish not to be same again
I too wish it not to regain
Let old thoughts pass away
Let me find new way
Something new is lying few more miles
I should try for it in not less than few minutes

The nights are dark and very deadly
I roam here and there very sadly
She has failed to deliver single message
She had promised last time in written page
I believe in what could not be believed
I feel some aggravation yet pain is not relieved

I don’t what she may be fighting at her hideout
I am also not sure when she will think fit to venture out
I have only one desire now to express it in clear terms
It will be rightly placed as soon as she rightly turns
I will not ask her how much I have suffered in her wait
But certainly I shall tell her it is not the fault of fate

I need her warmth and close association
Though the relation had progressed at my initiation
She had seen the reason behind and readily consented
I had no reason to disbelieve her and never resented
I take it as heavenly sent chance and to be enjoyed
I should do nothing that can leave her bad mood or annoyed

She once confided once what I would do in case of her desertion
It had taken me back for a while and lost the concentration
It made me thinking through out the remaining day
It pushed me to think many things not to slide her away
She must be joking to test the patience and tolerance
It had nothing to with present context and had no relevance

It created a ripples in calm water and truly disturbed
It was only the day before she had helped for rumors to be curbed
I got no wind of her intended sense of humor and warning
I still remained perturbed as the situation was totally turning
I may be able extinguish the burning fire and not to turn in ashes
After all it was our combined dream and definitely lasting wish

I wish she does not change her views at nick of the hours
It will prove as nails in dreamland and relation may sour
I wait eagerly at the last bell of warning somewhere from distance
Her mild foot steps are heard finally heading towards me at once
She is with the dimly lit lanterns and walking with caution
I am closing eyes at once in disbelief and grieved with emotions

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