Have you ever, on a cloudless night, looked down from a passing aircraft flying over Canada? Endless, glowing strings of cities, towns, and homesteads. Stretching on and on, one province to the next. With only the stars in the distance.
quote by Paul Martin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ever Dream Of Flying
Ever dream of flying,
With my arms spread out,
And my feet behind me.
I fly like I have done so a million times,
In different dreams and different times.
Ever dream of flying,
Seeing the city bellow.
The houses all lit in the night,
People looking out their windows.
Ever dream of flying,
One minute flying past vast cities.
The next moment I am flying past mountains,
And then Back to my house, my home.
Ever dream of flying,
That it seems so odd not to fly when you wake.
It seems the dream was real and this world,
Was not so real at all.
Ever dream of flying,
Swooping low to help a loved one.
Flying fast to do the heroic thing,
Saving a dear one from catastrophe,
Like a movie, but only a dream.
Ever dream of flying,
Or am I the only dreamer that flies,
Fleeting past new cities,
Seeing the sights by night and by day,
Flying like in a dream.
poem by Rowina Mallick
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One endless night
a walk that lasted forever
am i being so cleaver
running away
why should i stay
one long endless night
only guided by the stars and the moonlight
up all night for a walk
cutting through fields
around streets
around trees
through woods
the only thing that keeps me sane in this night is music
my guitar
just these six strings
should i ever go back
one long endless night
only guided by the stars and the moonlight
my favourite time of day is midnight
i might do it again
poem by Fred Chamberlain
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A Tribute To Canada Revised
Canada is home to the Roccky Mountains
Canada is home to the golden mine
Canada is home to the Fishery in dustries
Canada is home to the oil industries
Canada is a land that was made for the refues from all over the world
That came here to start a new lives also
Canada is multicultural
Canada stand strong and free
Canada is my home also and I am proud also to call Canada my home
Canada is home to thte seaguls and the robyns
Canada is home to the foxes
Canada is home to the wild bears
Canada is home to the deers
poem by Aldo Kraas
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Progress
Dress your legs with nylons
with cat eyes in between
glowing next to huge pylons
never serene, just weirdly obscene
and destroy every patch of green
with shopping malls and every chain store
disrupting how towns and cities had been
and plant power stations by the score
and be a age totally foul
with scores of minibus taxi's asunder
acting as if without a soul
to kill and to plunder
with the monsters bellowing
smoke like gallows, energizing electrical strings.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Pieces Of The Night
(doug hopkins)
Is it any wonder that the stars just dont rush by
When youre only doin 60 through this oh-so-vacant night
But its lacking something big this time
What the hell did you expect to find
Aphrodite on a barstool by your side
Twelfth night we go
After something everyone should know
Somewhere in the distance out of sight...
Then I saw: gin mill rainfall
What do you remember if at all
Only pieces of the night...
And is it any wonder in the middle of the crowd
If you let your feet get trampled on
When the music is that loud
But you wanted to be where you are
But it looked much better from afar
A hillside in shadow
Between the people and the stars
Twelfth night we go
After something everyone should know
Somewhere in the distance out of sight...
Then I saw: gin mill rainfall
What do you remember if at all
Only pieces of the night...
It seems so distant
But still only half the night away
Where notions between your questions come too
Is it any wonder where
The pieces of the night have been...
song performed by by Gin Blossoms
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Endless Sleep
The night was black rain fallin down
I looked my baby shes no where aroun
Chased her footsteps down to the shore
Afraid shes gone for ever more
Well I looked at the sea, seemed to say
I took your baby from you away
I heard a voice cry in the deep
Come join me baby in my endless sleep
Why did we quarrel why did we fight
Why did I leave her alone last night
Thats why her foot steps ran down to the sea
Thats wy my baby has gone from me
Well I looked at the sea seemed to say
I took your baby from you away
Well I heard a voice cry in the deep
Come join me baby in my endless sleep
Endless sleep
Out in the water heart full of fear
There in the breaker I saw her near
Reached for my darlin held her to me
Dragged her away from the angry sea
Well I looked at the sea seemed to say
I took your baby from you away
I heard a voice cryin in the deep
I took your baby from the endless sleep
I grabbed my baby from the endless sleep
song performed by by Billy Idol
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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God Bless Canada
This land strong and free
God bless Canada
While the sun shine across the sea
God bless Canada as we sing this song
God bless Canada
We stand together united as one
God bless Canada
Our hopes have never died for you
God bless Canada
We carry the flame with us in a long journey
God bless Canada
The eagles will soar high above the sky
God bless Canada
We show our true colors
God bless Canada
Our peacekeepers working together to bring peace home
God bless Canada
Home sweet home to us all
poem by Aldo Kraas
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I would like to mention that I have flown the 262 first in May '43. At this time, the aircraft was completely secret. I first knew of the existence of this aircraft only early in '42 - even in my position. This aircraft didn't have any priority in design or production.
quote by Adolf Galland
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LAST NIGHT with The StARS
lAST nIGht
i Was tOO streSSED
I Feel lIKE AN idIOT amIDST
THe three Magis
i Opened The TV anD
Turned IT oFF
I looKED foR SilENCE
wENT UPstairs
sAT On the Floor Looked UP
TO tHE opEN Sky
and SEE THE Stars so Many maNY Stars stars
in the NIGHT sky
the MOON was not There
and She WAS not There TOO
But the THOUGHTS of stars and more stars
glistening IDEAS and eMBRACING
tHE openness of Space
They ARE enough to OPEN MY Heart and
Sing and then
I Was SILENCED
I HAD peace.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Are they going to dropp the bomb?
Are they going to
dropp the bomb or not,
the though went through my head
and just outside Walvisbay
at a secret airport
nuclear bombs were stacked
on pallets in a row
glowing like copper
with tips looking like lead
and lights were blinding up ahead
and Buccaneer bombers
were ready to go
and special force soldiers
were patrolling the perimeter
and to this day
I do not know
what happened there
and what decisions were made
and what role
played fate
and saw some pilots wait
on instructions
while the bombs
were being loaded
and the rain poured
from a overcast sky
and in the distance
I heard a piper
playing a very sad song
and not a single aircraft
set of to fly that night.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Endless Blue Sky
Endless blue sky
When I look upon that sky, that sky of endless blue, seeing those birds fly. I feel like I’m
flying too, when I stand somewhere so high, look at that endless blue sky. I wished I could flying next to them, looking at the earth with the wind in my hair, the feeling of driving through clouds. O I wished that I could fly in that endless blue sky.
poem by Thomas Tromblee
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From The Sky
The talons of a man shall remain awake
To goad the dimmed lips of a man-at-war-with-himself.
The cloudless sky squirts a disaster,
To fashion the deranged into sanities
On the way to what is not asinine.
My claws cut and dodge the other birds
Who are men.
In their cribs the redness of their blood shines
Brightly, contradicting the veins.
In this sanctuary is an oversight,
That we are supposed to find,
And not mind to change into great dilemmas,
So that we gain more oversights,
Strangely enough.
The men at war shall define the century
In the cloudless skies,
When aircraft shake the shaken,
Where clouds of descriptions are complete.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Nature's Feathered Gipsies
I envy them their unrestricted freedom they spend most of their time in the sky
Above the flatlands and valleys and mountains with so little effort they fly
All species of swallows are similar and they can be seen almost Worldwide
They can be seen above Villages, rural and coastal Towns and Cities and flying above the countryside
They glide through the sky with little effort in pusuit of their flying insect prey
To and fro and often in circles they travel hundreds of miles every day
From the cup shaped mud nest they were born in distance they do migrate far
For hours on end through the sky they travel at the average speed of a motor car
As an ally against aerial predators their speed happens to be their friend
And unlike many other bird species they do not have borders to defend
To watch them high above the valley their glossy dark wings gleaming in the sunlight
Is something that is fascinating one can say a marvellous sight
They are Nature's wild feathered gipsies they spend most of their short lives in the sky
And above oceans, mountains and valleys from Country to Country they fly.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Ballade Of The Dead Cities
The dust of Carthage and the dust
Of Babel on the desert wold,
The loves of Corinth, and the lust,
Orchomenos increased with gold;
The town of Jason, over-bold,
And Cherson, smitten in her prime -
What are they but a dream half-told?
Where are the cities of old time?
In towns that were a kingdom's trust,
In dim Atlantic forests' fold,
The marble wasteth to a crust,
The granite crumbles into mould;
O'er these--left nameless from of old -
As over Shinar's brick and slime,
One vast forgetfulness is roll'd -
Where are the cities of old time?
The lapse of ages, and the rust,
The fire, the frost, the waters cold,
Efface the evil and the just;
From Thebes, that Eriphyle sold,
To drown'd Caer-Is, whose sweet bells toll'd
Beneath the wave a dreamy chime
That echo'd from the mountain-hold, -
'Where are the cities of old time?'
ENVOY.
Prince, all thy towns and cities must
Decay as these, till all their crime,
And mirth, and wealth, and toil are thrust
Where are the cities of old time.
poem by Andrew Lang
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Sailing
(gavin sutherland)
Producer for bonnie: steve hackett
Recorded in 1990 as a charity single against the repatriation of the vietnamese boat people. lyrics taken from careful listening.
I am sailing, i am sailing
Far away, across the sea
I am sailing, stormy waters
To be near you, to be free
I am flying, i am flying
Like a bird, across the sky
I am flying, passing high clouds
To be near you, to be free
Can you hear me? can you hear me?
Through the dark night, far away
I am dying, forever trying
To be with you, who can say?
We are sailing, we are sailing
Far away, across the sea
We are sailing, stormy waters
To be near you, to be free
To be near you, to be free
To be near you, to be free
To be near you, to be free
To be near you, to be free
I am flying, i am flying
Like a bird, across the sky
I am flying, passing high clouds
To be near you, to be free
Oh lord, to be near you
To be free
Can you hear me?
Can you hear me?
Through the dark night
Far away
I am dying, forever trying
To be with you, who can say
To be with you, who can say
song performed by by Bonnie Tyler
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pylons
Like watchtowers stretching
far past the horizon
big giants of naked blue-grey steel
cut across the fields back to the source of raw power.
Interwoven in houses as a part
of the construction wires run
back to poles on farms,
in villages, towns and cities
and people have the use of electricity
in lights, appliances and machines.
How primitive does life feel
when the spark of lightning for a time is gone,
from the pylons
that hose it down into our existence.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Who Is Rich?
I strive to be rich,
to travel on the roads,
of the capital cities,
in Sedan or limousine.
I work hard to be rich,
to find a lot in Beverly hills,
to buy an aircraft and
a hover to fly and float.
I work day and half night,
to be rich to others sight,
to smoke a cigar of an inch,
and a few girls to pinch.
scanty girls of Los vegas,
dress up, for a living,
trendy sad faced Indians,
walk alone for a living.
I want to be rich,
traveling as a rat,
through the holes of,
capital cities.
She wants to be rich,
He wants to be rich and
we want to be rich, but
people call us rich.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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The Night Cometh
Work! for the night is coming;
Work! through the morning hours;
Work! while the dew is sparkling;
Work! 'mid the springing flowers;
Work! while the day grows brighter,
Under the glowing sun;
Work! for the night is coming,--
Night, when man's work is done.
Work! for the night is coming;
Work! through the sunny noon;
Fill the bright hours with labour,
Rest cometh sure and soon.
Give to each flying minute
Something to keep in store;
Work! for the night is coming,--
Night, when man works no more.
Work! for the night is coming;
Under the sunset skies,
While their bright tints are glowing,
Work! for the daylight flies;
Work! till the last beam fadeth,
Fadeth to shine no more;
Work! while the night is darkening,--
Night, when man's work is o'er.
poem by Annie Louisa Walker
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But Canada remains a crucial partner in this global war on terrorism, and we are grateful for that. Canadian naval vessels, aircraft and military personnel continue anti-terrorist operations in the Persian Gulf.
quote by Paul Cellucci
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The abstract star
At one time everything slips into the past
Let me take it for granted
that I am flying in the sky
over my head below my feet
beginning from the fingers of
my outspread hands the endless sky
The sky of the night of the dark moon
the enchanting endless sky
of the night of the dark moon
“Do not start your journey on the night of the dark moon”
The known warning of my mother’s simple faith
yet I was born in such a dark night
she hides thing truth from me
The star gazing at which I am flying
in enchanting sky of this night
is dead is it’s sky in the same present
yet it is living for me
it is the living abstract star of the projected truth
At one time everything slips into the past
Am I going or flying
gazing at the star
just assume by
my own reasoning
What a pleasure in making assumption
many a journey begins with such assuming
what is the end of all these journeys
the abstract star of my assumed sky
***
[Translated from Assamese by Prof. ProdIp Khataniar]
poem by Kushal Dutta
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