Langston Hughes

As I Grew Older

It was a long time ago.
I have almost forgotten my dream.
But it was there then,
In front of me,
Bright like a sun--
My dream.
And then the wall rose,
Rose slowly,
Slowly,
Between me and my dream.
Rose until it touched the sky--
The wall.
Shadow.
I am black.
I lie down in the shadow.
No longer the light of my dream before me,
Above me.
Only the thick wall.
Only the shadow.
My hands!
My dark hands!
Break through the wall!
Find my dream!
Help me to shatter this darkness,
To smash this night,
To break this shadow
Into a thousand lights of sun,
Into a thousand whirling dreams
Of sun! 

Langston Hughes

April Rain Song

Let the rain kiss you
Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops
Let the rain sing you a lullaby
The rain makes still pools on the sidewalk
The rain makes running pools in the gutter
The rain plays a little sleep song on our roof at night
And I love the rain. 

Langston Hughes

A Thing of Beauty....

A Thing of Beauty (Endymion)

A thing of beauty is a joy for ever:
Its lovliness increases; it will never
Pass into nothingness; but still will keep
A bower quiet for us, and a sleep
Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.
Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathing
A flowery band to bind us to the earth,
Spite of despondence, of the inhuman dearth
Of noble natures, of the gloomy days,
Of all the unhealthy and o'er-darkn'd ways
Made for our searching: yes, in spite of all,
Some shape of beauty moves away the pall
From our dark spirits. Such the sun, the moon,
Trees old and young, sprouting a shady boon
For simple sheep; and such are daffodils
With the green world they live in; and clear rills
That for themselves a cooling covert make
'Gainst the hot season; the mid-forest brake,
Rich with a sprinkling of fair musk-rose blooms:
And such too is the grandeur of the dooms
We have imagined for the mighty dead;
An endless fountain of immortal drink,
Pouring unto us from the heaven's brink.

John Keats

 

(This is one of my very favorites by John Keats. I absolutly love the words- A thing of beauty is a joy for ever:
Its lovliness increases; it will never
Pass into nothingness. It sends shivers up my spine it is so beautiful......

Friendship....

Friendship

I think awhile of Love, and while I think,
Love is to me a world,
Sole meat and sweetest drink,
And close connecting link
Tween heaven and earth.

I only know it is, not how or why,
My greatest happiness;
However hard I try,
Not if I were to die,
Can I explain.

I fain would ask my friend how it can be,
But when the time arrives,
Then Love is more lovely
Than anything to me,
And so I'm dumb.

For if the truth were known, Love cannot speak,
But only thinks and does;
Though surely out 'twill leak
Without the help of Greek,
Or any tongue.

A man may love the truth and practise it,
Beauty he may admire,
And goodness not omit,
As much as may befit
To reverence.

But only when these three together meet,
As they always incline,
And make one soul the seat,
And favorite retreat,
Of loveliness;

When under kindred shape, like loves and hates
And a kindred nature,
Proclaim us to be mates,
Exposed to equal fates
Eternally;

And each may other help, and service do,
Drawing Love's bands more tight,
Service he ne'er shall rue
While one and one make two,
And two are one;

In such case only doth man fully prove
Fully as man can do,
What power there is in Love
His inmost soul to move
Resistlessly.

______

Two sturdy oaks I mean, which side by side,
Withstand the winter's storm,
And spite of wind and tide,
Grow up the meadow's pride,
For both are strong

Above they barely touch, but undermined
Down to their deepest source,
Admiring you shall find
Their roots are intertwined
Insep'rably.

Henry David Thoreau

April Rain Song

April Rain Song

Let the rain kiss you
Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops
Let the rain sing you a lullaby
The rain makes still pools on the sidewalk
The rain makes running pools in the gutter
The rain plays a little sleep song on our roof at night
And I love the rain.

Langston Hughes

 

( This is perfect for me this rainy Monday Morning....it's just that it's the first day of October and not April. I hope Langston Hughes helps you to a good start on this day...;)

Path that Leads to Nowhere...

Corinne Roosevelt Robinson (1861-1933)
THE PATH THAT LEADS
NOWHERE

THERE'S a path that leads to Nowhere
In a meadow that I know,
Where an inland island rises
And the stream is still and slow;
There it wanders under willows,
And beneath the silver green
Of the birches' silent shadows
Where the early violets lean.

Other pathways lead to Somewhere,
But the one I love so well
Has no end and no beginning—
Just the beauty of the dell,
Just the wind-flowers and the lilies
Yellow-striped as adder's tongue,
Seem to satisfy my pathway
As it winds their scents among.

There I go to meet the Springtime,
When the meadow is aglow,
Marigolds amid the marshes,—
And the stream is still and slow.
There I find my fair oasis,
And with care-free feet I tread
For the pathway leads to Nowhere,
And the blue is overhead!

All the ways that lead to Somewhere
Echo with the hurrying feet
Of the Struggling and the Striving,
But the way I find so sweet
Bids me dream and bids me linger,
Joy and Beauty are its goal,—
On the path that leads to Nowhere
I have sometimes found my soul!
(Cool fact, that 'i' didn't know...Corinne Roosevelt Robinson was the sister of United States President Theodore Roosevelt.

Mattie J.T. Stepanek

The Eye of the Beholder

Dandelions are NOT weeds!
See?
They have beautiful Yellow flowers on them.
They have lovely Green stems.
Mommy puts them In a jar of water In the kitchen -
They are flowers! See?
They are round. They are round and yellow.
Oh, mommy, Please tell him He's making a big mistake!
Poor little dandelions ... He's pulling them all up
And calling them "weeds."
Oh, this is So horrible, so sad!
What would God say if He saw you sending all of these
Poor, little, round, yellow Dandelion-flowers
Back to the Lord?

It Couldn't Be Done

Somebody said that it couldn't be done,
But he with a chuckle replied
That "maybe it couldn't," but he would be one
Who wouldn't say so till he'd tried.
So he buckled right in with the trace of a grin
On his face. If he worried he hid it.
He started to sing as he tackled the thing
That couldn't be done, and he did it.
Somebody scoffed: "Oh, you'll never do that;
At least no one ever has done it";
But he took off his coat and he took off his hat,
And the first thing we knew he'd begun it.
With a lift of his chin and a bit of a grin,
Without any doubting or quiddit,
He started to sing as he tackled the thing
That couldn't be done, and he did it.
There are thousands to tell you it cannot be done,
There are thousands to prophesy failure;
There are thousands to point out to you, one by one,
The dangers that wait to assail you.
But just buckle in with a bit of a grin,
Just take off your coat and go to it;
Just start to sing as you tackle the thing
That "cannot be done," and you'll do it.
-Edgar Guest

I am overflowing with passionate love,
I want to pursue him with the excuse that I'm impulsive and young.
But I will wait and pray instead,
Because there is someone that I am meant to wed.
They all tell me that I simply must not possess the desire,
That I have never felt the ignition when someone sets my heart on fire.

But oh, they couldn't be more wrong.

I'm holding myself back because I love him more than I love myself,
I'm stepping back and letting him live, placing my own interests on the shelf.
When they tell me I don't feel the hurt,
When I see him laugh and I see him flirt,
It's because they don't understand that true love waits,
Jumping at each sensation is always a mistake.

My darling, I hope he's fighting and yearning,
And saving himself for a future that we can't determine.
If our souls were made to unite one day,
I'm not going to let my years go to waste,
On little boys who use me,
Or emotionally abuse me.
Soulmate, hear me, hear me:

O, my darling I want to learn who I am and my identity is not in a teenager's arms,
Although the feelings make my heart burn and I can't resist his charms.
Please don't be distracted by the pretty girls and their batting eyes,
Because it's insecurity in disguise.
Please take your time and see these tears and hear my appeal,
For more than anything in the world I want you to find a love that's real.

Darling, this land is wide and these people engaging and bold,
But please don't buy into the cheap love that's being sold.
You deserve more than the brokeness that comes from telling a girl: it's over,
You don't need "experience" to perfectly show a girl that you love her.
For when you meet her, your heart will speak the truth alone,
You'll take her hand, escorting her to the right side of your throne.
Tell her that you waited and that you paid the price
But you wouldn't change a single day because love takes sacrifice.

-AMK :)

Time

Not enough hours exist in a day,
To accomplish the goals that we set,
We have so little time to make our mark,
We must cherish each moment we get.

Most minutes we spend debating,
Upon what to do next,
Instead of improving our lives,
And those of people we have met.

What would happen if we lived,
Like our heartbeats had a limit?
What would happen if we saw a problem,
And devoted our lives to resolving it?

Less time must be devoted to outlines and lamentations,
Over everything that is flawed,
And every person who lacks ambition.

We must personify proactivity and believe in what we work with,
Only then will we disregard ticking Time and be content with how we spent it.
-AMK

A Dream Within a Dream- E. A. P

A Dream Within A Dream by Edgar Allan Poe

Take this kiss upon the brow!

And, in parting from you now,

Thus much let me avow--

You are not wrong, who deem

That my days have been a dream;

Yet if hope has flown away

In a night, or in a day,

In a vision, or in none,

Is it therefore the less gone?

All that we see or seem

Is but a dream within a dream.



I stand amid the roar

Of a surf-tormented shore,

And I hold within my hand

Grains of the golden sand--

How few! yet how they creep

Through my fingers to the deep,

While I weep--while I weep!

O God! can I not grasp

Them with a tighter clasp?

O God! can I not save

One from the pitiless wave?

Is all that we see or seem

But a dream within a dream?

Kind Deeds

Little drops of water,
 Little grains of sand,
Make the mighty ocean,
 And the pleasant land.

This the little minutes,
 Humble though they be,
Make the mighty ages
 Of eternity.

Little deeds of kindness,
 Little words of love,
Make this earth an Eden
 Like the heaven above.
-Isaac Watts

Nothing Gold Can Stay

Nothing Gold Can Stay


Nature's first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.

Her early leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.

Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,

So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.

(I had never read this beautiful poem until my birthday...when an amazing friend bought me a poetry book-this was the first page- love it! :)

There is another sky...

There is another sky by Emily Dickinson


There is another sky,
er serene and fair,
And there is another sunshine,
Though it be darkness there;
Never mind faded forests, Austin,
Never mind silent fields -
Here is a little forest,
Whose leaf is ever green;
Here is a brighter garden,
Where not a frost has been;
In its unfading flowers
I hear the bright bee hum:
Prithee, my brother,
Into my garden come!

Poems, Art, etc.

I'm not much of writer, but I do write sometimes. My poems along with my art are all on www.haunted72194.deviantart.com. But if (and when) I do write more poems or other types of literature, I will definitely put it on here. I don't want to bore everyone with my just my artwork.

Good Morning to You...

The Poet's Thought by Lucy Maud Montgomery



It came to him in rainbow dreams,

Blent with the wisdom of the sages,

Of spirit and of passion born;

In words as lucent as the morn

He prisoned it, and now it gleams

A jewel shining through the ages.

Sacrifice of Love

I just wrote this so it is pretty rough and undeveloped but I felt like writing. :)

Everything happens for a reason, they say,
Kindness will never go unpaid.
Giving everyone your best,
Will set you higher than the rest.
Persevering for others even when it hurts the most,
They say will bring blessings and drive away any curse.

But even when I try to treat others with compassion,
I receive turned backs and flat out rejection.
My heart is empty because I left it open,
But now I don't know where all of the contents went.
I keep searching and groping and tearfully hoping,
That I will be rewarded for so much effort and sacrifice.

Amidst the pain, wet eyes, strained voice,
Amidst the biting words that make matters worse.
I began to understand that the ability to give without getting anything back,
Was the glorious gift that I used to lack.
~AMK

A Winter's Dawn

http://www.poemhunter.com/i/ebooks/pdf/lucy_maud_montgomery_2004_9.pdf


Sooo...my computer wouldn't let me copy or paste ( for some reason) But pleease.......don't be lazy and 'click' on the link and read the poems that i so wanted to post!!!

A Poem

Here's part of a poem sort of thing I wrote yesterday on our front porch. Please tell me what you honestly think (I haven't edited anything yet).

I always remember the years long ago

When you were a king and I was a queen.

We broke through the doors and let ourselves in,

Into a world, to change and regain.

They never believed that we could survive,

But I held your front and you held my side.

We broke through the doors and let ourselves in,

Into a world, to change and regain.

They thought we'd give up but we never stopped trying,

We were here to stay, never once did we think of going away.

We broke through the doors and let ourselves in,

Into a world, to change and regain.

And when our adventures came to a close,

You'd be holding my hand still through the highs and the lows.

We broke through the doors and let ourselves in,

Into a world, to change and regain.

-MRER

Anyhow that's some of it. I have two more verses written and I hope to write more on it this afternoon. Can't wait to see what you think!

The Touch of The Master's Hand

'Twas battered and scarred, and the auctioneer
Thought it scarcely worth his while
To waste much time on the old violin,
But held it up with a smile.
"What am I bidden, good folks," he cried,
"Who'll start the bidding for me?"
" A dollar, a dollar. Then two! Only two?
Two dollars, and who will make it three?"

"Three dollars, once; three dollars, twice;
Going for three..." But no,
From the room, far back, a gray-haired man
Came forward and picked up the bow;
Then wiping the dust from the old violin,
And tightening the loosened strings,
He played a melody pure and sweet,
As a caroling angel sings.

The music ceased, and the auctioneer,
With a voice that was quite and low,
Said: "What am I bid for the old violin?"
And he held it up with the bow.
" A thousand dollars, and who'll make it two?
Two thousand! and who'll make it three?
Three thousand, once: Three thousand, twice,
And going and gone," said he.

The people cheered, but some of them cried,
"We do not quite understand.
What changed its worth?" Swift came the reply
"The touch of the Master's hand."
And many a man with life out of tune,
And battered and scarred with sin,
Is auctioned cheap to the thoughtless crowd
Much like this old violin.

A "mess of pottage," a glass of wine,
A game - And he travels on.
He is "going" once, and "going" twice,
He's "going" and almost "gone."
But the Master comes, and the foolish crowd
Never can quite understand
The worth of the soul and the change that is wrought
By the touch of the Master's hand.
-Myra Brooks Welch

My Kate

My Kate
by Elizabeth Barrett Browning




She was not as pretty as women I know,
And yet all your best made of sunshine and snow
Drop to shade, melt to nought in the long-trodden ways,
While she's still remembered on warm and cold days--
                                                                                       My Kate.
Her air had a meaning, her movements a grace;
You turned from the fairest to gaze on her face;
And when you had once seen her forehead and mouth,
You saw as distinctly her soul and her truth--
                                                                           My Kate.
Such a blue inner light from her eyelids outbroke,
You looked at her silence and fancied she spoke;
When she did, so peculiar yet soft was the tone,
Thought the loudest spoke also, you heard her alone--
                                                                                        My Kate.
I doubt if she said to you much that could act
As a thought or suggestion; she did not attract
In the sense of the brilliant or wise; I infer
'Twas her thinking of others made you think of her--
                                                                                      My Kate.
She never found fault with you, never implied
Your wrong by her right; and yet men at her side
Grew nobler, girls purer, as through the whole town
The children were gladder that pulled at her gown--
                                                                                      My Kate.
None knelt at her feet confessed lovers in thrall;
They knelt more to God than they used--that was all;
If you praised her as charming, some asked what you meant,
But the charm of her presence was felt when she went--
                                                                                           My Kate.
The weak and the gentle, the ribald and rude,
She took as she found them, and did them all good;
It always was so with her--see what you have!
She made the grass greener even here with her grave--
                                                                                          My Kate.