Repulsion is the sentry that guards the gate to all that we most desire.
quote by Salvador Dali
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sleep On!
Fear no unlicensed entry,
Heed no bombastic talk,
While guards the British Sentry
Pall Mall and Birdcage Walk.
Let European thunders
Occasion no alarms,
Though diplomatic blunders
May cause a cry "To arms!"
Sleep on, ye pale civilians;
All thunder-clouds defy:
On Europe's countless millions
The Sentry keeps his eye!
Should foreign-born rapscallions
In London dare to show
Their overgrown battalions,
Be sure I'll let you know.
Should Russians or Norwegians
Pollute our favoured clime
With rough barbaric legions,
I'll mention it in time.
So sleep in peace, civilians,
The Continent defy;
While on its countless millions
The Sentry keeps his eye!
poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
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Guards! Seize Him!
Guards cease to wander where the hounds stay,
Yonder is peace for the entering marvels that may.
Guards cause innocence to object on evil,
Then seize that man or woman or child who is able!
Inside the door, inside the prison and cells,
Lies a more hopeful gate of magic and bells.
Beyond the common goal is another objective
That worries murder spraying blood - addictive.
Please lay off guards, for the murder to be done,
Munching morsels shunning us, and now abandon!
poem by Naveed Akram
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No one can persuade another to change. Each of us guards a gate of change that can only be opened from the inside. We cannot open the gate of another, either by argument or emotional appeal.
quote by Marilyn Ferguson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cryptic
the past eats like
a voracious monster
the future warns like
a sentry of the gate
the present melts
like ice
there is no mark
of life
for someone who
has been pretending
to be dead
facing no
responsibility.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Warrior Spector
In the misty gloom,
of the battlefield's morn.
From my post I spied,
shadowy sentry standing tall, alone.
Cold 'n' damp was the fog.
That watch I was sure,
some coffee would appreciate.
toward the figure, I approached.
Our password I announced,
Seemed to me, he acknowledged.
To his station I advanced.
Yet, no sound he made, of recognitioin.
As between us, the distance closed.
Heavier the mist appeared, to grow.
Harder he became, to detect.
Upon reaching his post, I discovered.
The sentry I had seen, now vanished.
All around I looked, to no avail.
Yet where he once stood, dead enemy lay.
Again, into the mist I peered, shadowy sentry stood.
21Nov10
poem by Kurt Hearth
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Coronation
At the king's gate the subtle noon
Wove filmy yellow nets of sun;
Into the drowsy snare too soon
The guards fell one by one.
Through the king's gate, unquestioned then,
A beggar went and laughed, 'This brings
Me chance, at last, to see if men
Fare better being kings.'
The king sat bowed beneath his crown,
Propping his face with listless hand;
Watching the hour-glass sifting down
Too slow its shining sand.
'Poor man, what wouldst thou have of me?'
The beggar turned, and pitying,
Replied, like one in dream, 'Of thee,
Nothing. I want the king.'
Uprose the king, and from his head
Shook off the crown, and threw it by.
'O man, thou must have known,' said he,
'A greater king than I.'
Through all the gates, unquestioned then,
Went king and beggar hand in hand.
Whispered the king, 'Shall I know when
Before
his
throne I stand?'
The beggar laughed. Free winds in haste
Were wiping from the king's hot brow
The crimson lines the crown had traced.
'This is his presence now.'
At the king's gate, the crafty noon
Unwove its yellow nets of sun;
Out of their sleep in terror soon
The guards waked one by one.
'Ho here! Ho There! Has no man seen
The king?' The cry ran to and fro;
Beggar and king, they laughed, I ween,
The laugh that free men know.
On the king's gate the moss grew gray;
The king came not. They called him dead;
And made his eldest son one day
Slave in his father's stead.
poem by Helen Hunt Jackson
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The Undergraduate
He runs around the campus premises
All of his life, but the gate were closed all the time.
The wall is too high though he tries to jump
And the sentry is very rough inquires the documents.
He holds only his tattered certificate of birth
And it's already expired it seems for the enrollment.
(I dedicate this poem to Virginia Tech Campus victims.)
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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If people really want to go, and really try all their lives, I think they will get in; for I don't believe there are any locks on that door, or any guards at the gate. I always imagine it is as it is in the picture, where the shining ones stretch out their hands to welcome poor Christian as he comes up from the river.
Louisa May Alcott in Little Women
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Talking Upon One's Self Upon A Resolution Of A Conflict
since i cannot hold you
i let myself go somewhere else
to hold another
there is no one like you
but i can always close my eyes
and find you
there
i can hold you as though you are mine
just that
even in my dream
even in the cheapest of my illusion
you dread me
death looks upon me and smiles
as though
i shall love it as though i can finally
find you
in those dark arms
i do not own my world
neither shall i conquer yours by force
i tend my own garden of sorrow
then
I'll make a gate where one may enter
I'll put a door
where i can be alone
i am also myself
my own faithful lover
without any
repulsion
without any condition
for i can be my own magical concoction
for i must live to claim a world of my own
alone and still be whole
happy and acceptable
upon my own terms and conditions
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A good bookshop is just a genteel Black Hole that knows how to read.
Terry Pratchett in Guards! Guards!
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Open The Gate
I see you from the distance
From beyond the fence you made
Hiding all your feelings
Behind your barricade
Oh have you been invaded
Is this the reason why you hide
I know just how you're feeling
I know - let me inside
Open the gate up
Open the gate up - hurry
Open the gate up - hurry
I want to get near you
But you just won't let me in
'Cause you're so scared of losing
Everything you've got within
Come on now you can trust me
Come on and open the door
'Cause I know just how you're feeling
I know - I've been there before
Open the gate up
Open the gate up - hurry
Open the gate up
Hurry hurry hurry hurry
And do it right now
Do it right now
Do it right now
Do it right now - hurry
Do it right now - do it right now
Do it right now - do it right now
And do it right now - do it right now
Do it right now - do it right now
Hurry
Open the gate up
Open the gate up - hurry
Open the gate up
Hurry hurry hurry hurry
Open the gate up - open the gate up
Or I'm gonna knock the damn door down
Open the gate up - open the gate up
Or I'm gonna knock the damn door down
Open the gate up - open the gate up
Or I'm gonna knock the damn door down
Open the gate up - open the gate up
Or I'm gonna knock the damn door down
Down
song performed by by No Doubt from Beacon Street Collection
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Orange picking
I showed my loose-leaf Passport,
But the sentry wants to detain me at the park gate
For further questioning?
And he says; ' The photograph is entirely different
from your present face.'
'Yes Sir, I agreed.
That was taken before the War.' I said timidly.
'That means you're a Veteran.'
'Not exactly, now only I am fighting to pick some oranges
for my next-door neighbour who's a Veteran and lives on a Wheelchair! '
* Happiness held is the seed;
Happiness shared is the flower.
-Unknown
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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An Ever Open Door
Desire to live, love and dream
Desire to desire more
Desire is the flirtiest whim
It's an ever open door.
Desire to touch you once
Desire to break into a dance
Desire to hold your hand
Desire to build on sand!
It's an ever open door
You desire and desire more!
poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay
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Golgotha
Through darkness curves a spume of falling flares
That flood the field with shallow, blanching light.
The huddled sentry stares
On gloom at war with white,
And white receding slow, submerged in gloom.
Guns into mimic thunder burst and boom,
And mirthless laughter rakes the whistling night.
The sentry keeps his watch where no one stirs
But the brown rats, the nimble scavengers.
poem by Siegfried Sassoon
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If anyone has it rough at Guantanamo, it is the guards. They are constantly harassed and threatened by some of these terrorists. Prisoners tell guards, we know where your families are. We know where your wife is, your children, and we are going to kill them.
quote by Robin Hayes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Becoming The I
orchestrate avalanches to manifest tragedy
arouse destruction to manifest creation
reap the rivers to manifest drowning
drown the infant to manifest breathing
tip the hourglass, spill time coagulation
unleashing the tower collapse beneath below
as above bruised anticipation consumes
subconscious equilibrium dissection
raw ascension beyond corridors of golden dawn
tearing into emotional disconnection
grueling vertebrae entanglement
reassemble interrupted soul division
will breathing from suffocation
will suffocation from birth
will birth from repulsion
will repulsion from attraction
will attraction from decay
will decay from death
will death from breathing
Deaths gate
There's a gate that I want to walk through.
I want to go to deaths gate.
Where all my troubles will be gone.
No more hartache no more fears.
Just the freedom of tommorrrow.
Without the fears of the day.
Itll keep my demons away.
I want to go to deaths gate.
To end my life and strife.
I dont want to be in this lifetime of hate.
Theres a gate I'll go through soon.
I'll be entering deaths gate.
It wont be an acicedent you see.
It'll be suicide
poem by Amy Louise Kerswell
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Teach Me How To Fly
It's never to late to open the gate.
'Teach me.
Teach me.'
Age is nothing but an excuse to make.
'Teach me to free myself.
Teach me like no one else.'
Moons come and those Summers go.
It's never too late to open the gate.
Minds in fear keep those dreams slowed.
Age aint nothing but an excuse to make.
'Teach me.
Teach me.
Teach me how to fly.'
It's never too late to open the gate.
'Teach me,
I'd like to try.'
You're the only one who decides it's too late.
You're the only one afraid to open the gate.
You're the one with urges wishing to escape.
'Why can't you reach me to teach me,
To break away from those limits made? '
You're the only one who decides it's too late.
You're the only one afraid to open the gate.
You're the one with urges wishing to escape.
'Teach me.
Teach me.
Teach me how to fly.'
I can't.
It was something I desired.
And with that desire...
I found it could be done.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Santa Claus
"HALT! Who goes there?” The sentry’s call
Rose on the midnight air
Above the noises of the camp,
The roll of wheels, the horses’ tramp.
The challenge echoed over all—
“Halt! Who goes there?”
A quaint old figure clothed in white,
He bore a staff of pine,
An ivy-wreath was on his head.
“Advance, oh friend,” the sentry said,
“Advance, for this is Christmas night,
And give the countersign.”
“No sign nor countersign have I,
Through many lands I roam
The whole world over far and wide,
To exiles all at Christmastide,
From those who love them tenderly
I bring a thought of home.
“From English brook and Scottish burn,
From cold Canadian snows,
From those far lands ye hold most dear
I bring you all a greeting here,
A frond of a New Zealand fern,
A bloom of English rose.
“From faithful wife and loving lass
I bring a wish divine,
For Christmas blessings on your head.”
“I wish you well,” the sentry said,
“But here, alas! you may not pass
Without the countersign.”
He vanished—and the sentry’s tramp
Re-echoed down the line.
It was not till the morning light
The soldiers knew that in the night
Old Santa Claus had come to camp
Without the countersign.
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
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