Quotes about island, page 13
The Golden Island: Arran From Ayr
DEEP set in distant seas it lies;
The morning vapors float and fall,
The noonday clouds above it rise,
Then drop as white as virgin's pall.
And sometimes, when that shroud uplifts,
The far green fields show strange and fair;
Mute waterfalls in sliver rifts
Sparkle adown the hillside bare.
But ah! mists gather, more and more;
And though the blue sky has no tears,
And the sea laughs with light all o'er,--
The lovely Island disappears.
O vanished Island of the blest!
O dream of all things pure and high!
Hid in deep seas, as faithful breast
Hides loves that have but seemed to die,--
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poem by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
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Now Returned Home
Beyond the narrows of the Inner Hebrides
We sailed the cold angry sea toward Barra, where Heaval mountain
Lifts like a mast. There were few people on the steamer, it was late in the
year; I noticed most an old shepherd,
Two wise-eyed dogs wove anxious circles around his feet, and a thin-armed
girl
Who cherished what seemed a doll, wrapping it against the sea-wind. When
it moved I said to my wife 'She'll smother it.'
And she to the girl: 'Is your baby cold? You'd better run down out of the
wind and uncover its face.'
She raised the shawl and said 'He is two weeks old. His mother died in
Glasgow in the hospital
Where he was born. She was my sister.' I looked ahead at the bleak island,
gray stones, ruined castle,
A few gaunt houses under the high and comfortless mountain; my wife
looked at the sickly babe,
And said 'There's a good doctor in Barra? It will soon be winter.' 'Ah,'
she answered, 'Barra'd be heaven for him,
The poor wee thing, there's Heaval to break the wind. We live on a wee
island yonder away,
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poem by Robinson Jeffers
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INVITATION FROM LATVIA by Marjorie Evasco
(Inspired by “Big Sea # 1 “by Vija Celmins and “Penelope as Painter” by John
Berger,)
I.
It is the sea, Vija, before my eyes —
Shimmered by the constant measure of your hand’s
Pressure on trough and crest: each wave
Crumpled by shadows the wind makes
As it blows from the frozen steppes
Of your knowing heart. But you are
Nowhere in your painting.
You have stepped into anonymity,
Thirty years an explorer with your graphite
And oils, tracing the world’s visible lines,
Searching the mysterious vast,
The mast of your pencil or brush
Following the light in the eye,
In the disciplined patience
Of an old hand of the Baltic.
II.
Big Sea #1 reminds John Berger of Penelope
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poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Philippines the Pearl of the Orient
as the Pacific ocean pushing down the cool breezing
fresh air facing east, where the set of the rising sun, the
Philippines alluring beautiful islets welcome the
foreign lands
hundreds and thousands people wish to stay in the 7,107
seashore and islands they want to play, even Ferdinand
Magellan leads its way to conquer the island for Spain
to offer, but Lapu Lapu the local chieftain stop their
intension and say the great promise land is not for sale
and please go faraway than to stay bitter
the Philippines island, endowed with natural beauty: the
the chocolate hills and the underground river as while the
Mayon volcano viewed its degree, where the rice terraces
splendid its wonderful technology of the centuries from
other neighboring countries
richness in the vast land and rivers, seas and sky the
country is full, wild life and animal every where you can
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poem by Antonio Liao
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The Enchanted Island. By Danby
AND there the island lay, the waves around
Had never known a storm; for the north wind
Was charm'd from coming, and the only airs
That blew brought sunshine on their azure wings,
Or tones of music from the sparry caves,
Where the sea-maids make lutes of the pink conch.
These were sea breezes,--those that swept the land
Brought other gifts,--sighs from blue violets,
Or from June's sweet Sultana, the bright rose,
Stole odours. On the silver mirror's face
Was but a single ripple that was made
By a flamingo's beak, whose scarlet wings
Shone like a meteor on the stream: around,
Upon the golden sands, were coral plants,
And shells of many colours, and sea weeds,
Whose foliage caught and chain'd the Nautilus,
Where lay they as at anchor. On each side
Were grottoes, like fair porticoes with steps
Of the green marble; and a lovely light,
Like the far radiance of a thousand lamps,
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poem by Letitia Elizabeth Landon
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Listening to Lawrence Ferlinghetti
The story is.. no..
the history is.. no…
the story of the history is,
that back in the 15th century,
the wild battered shores of Portugal
threw up strange vegetable things,
strange woods, strange scented things, that spoke of
somewhere that was not Europe; so, was there,
far or near across the sea, between Europe and
the end, the plate’s-edge of the world
where anything might happen
like, a fall into infinite space.. falling, falling..
an island? and if an island, large or small,
did it, at the other side, fall straight into that nowhere,
or did it have a West Coast?
what human excitement for the adventurous!
and as each of us grows up, this same excitement..
I remember when we were wondering
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poem by Michael Shepherd
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The Boiling Water
A serious moment for the water is
when it boils
And though one usually regards it
merely as a convenience
To have the boiling water
available for bath or table
Occasionally there is someone
around who understands
The importance of this moment
for the water—maybe a saint,
Maybe a poet, maybe a crazy
man, or just someone
temporarily disturbed
With his mind 'floating'in a
sense, away from his deepest
Personal concerns to more
'unreal' things...
A serious moment for the island
is when its trees
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poem by Kenneth Koch
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Island In A Sea Of Space
Night stroked the vision from the dream I became
While soothed to the pull from the door of the first page
The salt of ocean lingered in my nostrils that quivered
Confusion annulled existence rampant waves of haphazard rigor
Beneath opaque sapphire that crept on scarlet shores
Shimmering reminiscence particles between my velvet toes
As I kissed the look of horizon that rotated mechanically
On the soft romances of childhood kidnapped into Fantasy
I was spellbound in purgatory that was five miles round
Sheathed in Pacific imitation of Hawaii bold mounds
Forever encapsulated as the cynosure of pure anger
That was licensed to service by the Machiavellian Doctor
In an island in a sea of space
Old Satellites ascended in a cathedral of black mass
Whispering anxious luminescence in geodesic glass
Orion sat lackadaisically behind the nave of Ganymede
Vacillating the trajectory to escape his lovers band
As he encroached the heavens as I wondered as fractal
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poem by Kevin Patrick
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Fallen into the other Realm
under the little picture
of the virgin mary
i lazed and lazed
until her impatient little angel
flew down to speak to my ears
in a mind lifting delightful language
prodding me perhaps to wake up
to face the world
still amazed at her musical tongue
this hasty chinese man
that ran into my dream
pointing to an antique
chinese wood carving of
an auspicious looking lion
perhaps to tell me
i should buy it
and i saw it in
my friend's shop the next day
he asked for US400
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poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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An Evolution Of Javanese Religion?
Who lives on this island of Java
stone age Java man is long gone?
Java world's most populous island
scene of dramatic Indonesian history
powerful centre of Hindu-Buddhist empires
Islamic sultanates Mataram in Central Java
sultanates of Ternate and Tidore to the east
Java core of the colonial Dutch East Indies
centre of Indonesia's independence campaign
Java a population of over 136 million one
of the most densely populated places on
earth this most densely populated region
is the world home to 60% of Indonesia's
population and Indonesian capital Jakarta
Java an island formed by volcanic events
thirty-eight mountains form an east-west
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poem by Terence George Craddock
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