Confusion heard his voice, and wild uproar Stood ruled, stood vast infinitude confined; Till at his second bidding darkness fled, Light shone, and order from disorder sprung.
quote by John Milton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lurline (Inscribed to Madame Lucy Escott.)
As you glided and glided before us that time,
A mystical, magical maiden,
We fancied we looked on a face from the clime
Where the poets have builded their Aidenn!
And oh, the sweet shadows! And oh, the warm gleams
Which lay on the land of our beautiful dreams,
While we walked by the margins of musical streams
And heard your wild warbling around us!
We forgot what we were when we stood with the trees
Near the banks of those silvery waters;
As ever in fragments they came on the breeze,
The songs of old Rhine and his daughters!
And then you would pass with those radiant eyes
Which flashed like a light in the tropical skies —
And ah! the bright thoughts that would sparkle and rise
While we heard your wild warbling around us.
Will you ever fly back to this city of ours
With your harp and your voice and your beauty?
God knows we rejoice when we meet with such flowers
On the hard road of Life and of Duty!
Oh! come as you did, with that face and that tone,
For we wistfully look to the hours which have flown,
And long for a glimpse of the gladness that shone
When we heard your wild warbling around us.
poem by Henry Kendall
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Picture Of A Young Lady
When I was sitting, sad, and all alone,
Remembering youth and love for ever fled,
And many friends now resting with the dead,
While the still summer's light departing shone,
Like many sweet and silent summers gone;
Thou camest, as a vision, with a mien
And smile like those I once on earth had seen,
And with a voice of that remembered tone
Which I in other days, long since, had heard:
Like Peace approaching, when distempers fret
Most the tired spirit, thy fair form appeared;
And till I die, I never shall forget,--
For at thy footstep light, the gloom was cheered,--
Thy look and voice, oh! gentle Margaret.
poem by William Lisle Bowles
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They Shine
In grief, I spotted two crystals.
Across the flame-drenched fields.
They were leaking and appeared pitiful.
So I wandered to them and stood.
They shone as the sunrise.
They shone as forest fires.
They promised happiness.
They promised omnicide.
I stood there staring into her.
She asks me where I've been all her life.
My whole being smiles at these elusive words.
Considering the euphoria that died.
They shone as the sunrise.
They shone as forest fires.
They promised happiness.
They promised omnicide.
I'm certain that I knew you.
I guess you've always known me.
Now your conflicting intentions.
Have parted this diluted sea.
You lie through your teeth.
You laugh as I grieve.
And you dare call my name.
Knowing I'll cringe again.
These lights will not dim.
Your words never die.
Beautiful yet grim.
Bewildered, I am confined.
They're just eyes.
Soulless eyes.
Lying eyes.
Yet, shining eyes.
They shine.
They shine.
They shine.
I am blind.
poem by Aaron Lynn
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The Voice of Love
After a long solitary confinement
In deep love for someone
I heard a song
A song in the woods
Where I stood
The woods which stood in the solitude
There was nobody
Nobody except me
Nobody heard the song
Which rapped in the woods
Somewhere, but I didn't know where
The song I heard wasn't raspy
Neither soft nor melodious
The song I heard was heart-strucken'd
There was a tone
A tune where you can find
A rapt of love.
The song has given pathogen in me
Who's that guy?
Singing in love
Crying and dying in love?
I listened to the song carefully
Now I found
The lonely woods are in me
And the song I heard
was the voice
The voice of love in me.
poem by D'menz Veen
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Easter Morning In the Twenty First Century
I have stood in total darkness
Without the redeeming glimmer of light
I have waited in the darkness for sight to come
The waiting was intolerable long and unfulfilled
I have reached out to those near to me
Unable to identify even my own hand in the darkness
But when the light came all was revealed the fear dispersed
I saw others as they were and rejoiced to see myself.
This is the light of Easter joy the light of hope
This light forever shines on into eternity
The darkness cannot overcome it.
poem by James Tipp
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The Shade Of Theseus - Ancient Greek Tradition
Know ye not when our dead
From sleep to battle sprung?
-When the Persian charger's tread
On their cowering greensward rung!
When the trampling march of foes
Had crush'd our vines and flowers,
When jewell'd crests arose
Through the holy laurel-bowers,
When banners caught the breeze,
When helms in sunlight shone,
When masts were on the seas,
And spears on Marathon.
There was one, a leader crown'd,
And arm'd for Greece that day;
But the falchions made no sound
On his gleaming war-array.
In the battle's front he stood,
With his tall and shadowy crest;
But the arrows drew no blood
Though their path was through his breast.
When banners caught the breeze,
When helms in sunlight shone,
When masts were on the seas,
And spears on Marathon.
His sword was seen to flash
Where the boldest deeds were done;
But it smote without a clash;
The stroke was heard by none!
His voice was not of those
That swell'd the rolling blast,
And his steps fell hush'd like snows-
'Twas the Shade of Theseus pass'd!
When banners caught the breeze,
When helms in sunlight shone,
When masts were on the seas,
And spears on Marathon.
Far sweeping through the foe,
With a fiery charge he bore;
And the Mede left many a bow
On the sounding ocean-shore.
And the foaming waves grew red,
And the sails were crowded fast,
When the sons of Asia fled,
As the Shade of Theseus pass'd!
When banners caught the breeze,
When helms in sunlight shone,
When masts were on the seas,
And spears on Marathon.
poem by Felicia Dorothea Hemans
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Presences
THIS night has been so strange that it seemed
As if the hair stood up on my head.
From going-down of the sun I have dreamed
That women laughing, or timid or wild,
In rustle of lace or silken stuff,
Climbed up my creaking stair. They had read
All I had rhymed of that monstrous thing
Returned and yet unrequited love.
They stood in the door and stood between
My great wood lectern and the fire
Till I could hear their hearts beating:
One is a harlot, and one a child
That never looked upon man with desire.
And one, it may be, a queen.
poem by William Butler Yeats
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Another Dark Day
ANOTHER DARK DAY
From the arrays in the sky
eclipses another bright star
A curtain is drawn
A life, to an abrupt end
A flower once blossomed
now withers away.
Far away in Pakistan
A lone voice is cut in its prime
A life which stood against oppresion
A life which stood for justice
A life which stood for equality
A life which stood for democracy
Snuffed out in daylight
How bizzare
How cowardly
How cruel
This life now withers away
Adieu Benazir Bhutto
A life that counts
Better to die a hero
Than live an unsung life
The world mourns you
In our hearts, you live on
Till we meet again
Good night Mama
poem by Olumide Familusi
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Halloween Quartet No 4 It’s Only Halloween
Outside my bedroom door,
I heard the scratching of its claws
wanting to get into my sanctuary.
Its growl was low and chilling
that my neck hairs stood on end
as it returned to scratching once more.
I lay there in my bed too fearful to move
wondering what hellish creature wanted to get in.
I watched the handle turn;
my heartbeat echoed in my ears,
fright stole my voice
as I lay there in my fears.
A slice of light cut the room into two.
I sank beneath the covers hoping not to be seen,
then a voice spirited around me
as someone pulled the sheet from my bed.
She stood there in ghostly white
and my wife screamed at me.
“Get up you big sissy it’s only Halloween.”
31 October 2009
poem by David Harris
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Order in the animal kingdom
Have you ever heard of a sheep-
that was a police officer?
arresting a lone wolf
for committing a murder
have you ever heard of a cow
that was a judge?
sentencing a pig
for stealing chocolate fudge
have you ever heard of an eagle-
that was a president?
flying above his subjects
watching over his residents
have you ever heard of a lion-
that was a wise king?
sitting on his majestic throne
looking after his surroundings
have you ever heard of a gorilla-
that was a government official?
serving for the common order
of the animal kingdom
have you ever heard of a monkey-
that was a published author?
writting in the news column
about this prevailing disorder
i've never seen any of that
thats why i say theres no order-
in the animal world,
and yet
they seem to have more order
than us humans...
ironic really
poem by Allen Steble
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Casabianca
The boy stood on the burning deck
Whence all but he had fled;
The flame that lit the battle's wreck
Shone round him o'er the dead.
Yet beautiful and bright he stood,
As born to rule the storm;
A creature of heroic blood,
A proud, though childlike form.
The flames roll'd on...he would not go
Without his father's word;
That father, faint in death below,
His voice no longer heard.
He call'd aloud..."Say, father,say
If yet my task is done!"
He knew not that the chieftain lay
Unconscious of his son.
"Speak, father!" once again he cried
"If I may yet be gone!"
And but the booming shots replied,
And fast the flames roll'd on.
Upon his brow he felt their breath,
And in his waving hair,
And looked from that lone post of death,
In still yet brave despair;
And shouted but one more aloud,
"My father, must I stay?"
While o'er him fast, through sail and shroud
The wreathing fires made way,
They wrapt the ship in splendour wild,
They caught the flag on high,
And stream'd above the gallant child,
Like banners in the sky.
There came a burst of thunder sound...
The boy-oh! where was he?
Ask of the winds that far around
With fragments strewed the sea.
With mast, and helm, and pennon fair,
That well had borne their part;
But the noblest thing which perished there
Was that young faithful heart.
poem by Felicia Dorothea Hemans
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End Or Beginning
In the path of life
where i stood alone amidst the cold waves
where wind dragged me back to time
a endless journey of life
I set my foot to find someone
across the lonely lanes of roads i crossed
in the dusky path of the dream
I searched for her ,
i fell deafeted
exhausted and dying
nothing came out of heart, but a scream
a scream of defeat and demise
ticks of clocks
from a far of land i heard
like it was fading away from me
confused i stood
was that me, or the land going far from me
silenced followed
what i heard was only the music of wind
the beat of my heart
the beat of my interment
the world turned hazzy
my eyes were heavy
cold and sleepy
a voice within
a voice spoke me
you are travelling
and i fell asleep
i woke up
the journey ended
i saw the light
after a dark voyage
the hope of life
a new life to live
new world to see
a new voyage to begin
i lied beside
soaking wramth from her
cuddled in love
whom i would call mother
my journey ended
a life began
still i was in confusion
the journey i made
a end or a creation...
poem by Aditya Agarwal
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Cold Hands From New York
I came down from albany to new york to find what Id been missin
I looked across the river to the city where the windows all stood glistenin
I stood listenin
Into a tunnel I did rise, like a grave inside, but I was young and able
When I came out the other end, ah through the smoke the winter light was feeble
Unreadable
I was optimistic though, a cabbie told me where to go
I thanked him
A face of white a face of brown, here a smile, there a look of danger
For a stranger
It was too unreal for me
I found no one who trusted me
There was no man could offer me
A cold hand from new york
Cold hands from new york
A voice within you cries wont someone please help me
Ill do the same for you one day
If you should ever pass my way and need me
I came down to live alone in new york the city of the living
There were fortunes at my feet but most of men were taking, none we giving
Or forgiving
Children ran and children played and roses grew in alleyways
I saw them
There were men who lived in style and others who had died where no one knew them
cause they couldnt win
There were parks where old men slept and dingy rooms where babies crept unwanted
Till I began to ask myself if there was hope or if it mattered what the did
Or if they lived
It was too unreal for me
I found no one who trusted me
There was no man could offer me
A cold hand from new york
Cold hands from new york
A voice within you cries wont someone please help me
Ill do the same for you one day
If you should ever pass my way and need me
I came down from albany to new york to find what Id been missin
I looked across the river to the city where the windows all stood glistenin
I stood listenin
There were prophets in the squares and people there who smiled and said forget it
There were lovers in the park and there was danger in the dark, I felt it
So afraid of it
There were preachers of the word and poets who were never heard
I heard them
There were those who would not try to learn the measure of the lie
Theyre livin
I heard a young musician play in a place where they paid you not to listen
I heard a woman scream for help while men stood by and offered their best wishes
Thats how it is
It was too unreal for me
I found no one who trusted me
There was no man could offer me
A cold hand from new york
Cold hands from new york
A voice within you cries wont someone please help me
Ill do the same for you one day
If you should ever pass my way and need me
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Musings
I sat by my window one night,
And watched how the stars grew high;
And the earth and skies were a splendid sight
To a sober and musing eye.
From heaven the silver moon shone down
With gentle and mellow ray,
And beneath the crowded roofs of the town
In broad light and shadow lay.
A glory was on the silent sea,
And mainland and island too,
Till a haze came over the lowland lea,
And shrouded that beautiful blue.
Bright in the moon the autumn wood
Its crimson scarf unrolled,
And the trees like a splendid army stood
In a panoply of gold!
I saw them waving their banners high,
As their crests to the night wind bowed,
And a distant sound on the air went by,
Like the whispering of a crowd.
Then I watched from my window how fast
The lights all around me fled,
As the wearied man to his slumber passed
And the sick one to his bed.
All faded save one, that burned
With distant and steady light;
But that, too, went out -- and I turned
Where my own lamp within shone bright!
Thus, thought I, our joys must die,
Yes -- the brightest from earth we win:
Till each turns away, with a sign,
To the lamp that burns brightly within.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Romance In The Market Place
YOU stood beside the flowers,
Yourself a flower;
And on your face
The twilight stayed another hour,
It shone so pale;
And all around men talked as in a market-place.
I heard them talk, and felt
No interest stir
In what they said.
Lilies were nigh you, and around you were
The lights of love,
And all about the world moved on with nervous tread.
I heard it not; for down
And round about
My soul you drew
The veils that shut the loud earth out,
And I and you
Were there alone — no one beside but I and you!
What words were those we said?
Old ones, perchance,
Pale with the pain
Of all who've kissed, and talked romance,
And said farewell,
And mixed their tears and kissed, and sighed — and sighed in vain.
We stood a sainted while,
And then your hand
Sought to be free,
And you were gone; and all the land
Was under gloom,
And lamps were lit for other men, but none for me.
I stood and watched you go,
And suddenly
The loud world grew
Like some great-voiced, insetting sea;
And men went by,
Talking of trade and war and all but love and you.
poem by Roderic Quinn
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Extempore Lines
A MORNING crowns the Western hill,
A day begins to reign,
A sun awakes o’er distant seas—
Shall never sleep again.
The world is growing old,
And men are waxing wise;
A mist has cleared—a something falls
Like scales from off their eyes.
Too long the “Dark of Ignorance”
Has brooded on their way;
Too long Oppression ’s stood before,
Excluding light of day.
But now they’ve found the track
And now they’ve seen the dawn,
A “beacon lamp” is pointing on,
Where stronger glows the morn.
Since Adam lived, the mighty ones
Have ever ruled the weak;
Since Noah’s flood, the fettered slave
Has seldom dared to speak.
’Tis time a voice was heard,
’Tis time a voice was spoken
So in the chain of tyranny
A link or two be broken.
A tiny rill will swell a stream,
A spark will cause a flame,
And one man’s burning eloquence
Has help’d to do the same.
And he will persevere,
And soon that blaze must spread,
Till to the corners of the earth
Reflecting beams are shed.
The “few” will try to beat it down,
But can they stop the flood—
Bind up the pinions of the light,
Or check the will of God?
And is it not His will
That deeply injured Right
Should overthrow the iron rule
And reign instead of Might?
poem by Henry Kendall
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Over The Falls
They broke out in laughter again,
His lip beaded with sweat as they strapped him in,
And he stood by and waited to be called.
The talk was of times that had gone by
And the quantity and quality of women they lie.
His eyes welled with wet and his mouth had gone dry.
As he stood by and waited to be called.
He stood by and waited to be called.
He stood by and waited like the others before
For his turn to go over the falls.
He got up and tried it again.
For lack of persistence is surely a sin.
As he stood by and waited to be called,
He looked to the lightning with glee
And admired his vessel for its symmetry,
Feeling twelve units shy of a bachelors degree.
As he stood by and waited to be called.
He stood by and waited to be called.
He stood by and waited like the others before
For his turn to go over the falls.
song performed by by Primus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It was dark when she came
It was dark
When she came
Darkness went away
Paving way
For the light which
Now shone
Her beauty
Gave solace to
All the souls
Desperation gone
Hope and desire
Now ruled
Over
Failures
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
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Middle-Ages
I heard a clash, and a cry,
And a horseman fleeing the wood.
The moon hid in a cloud.
Deep in shadow I stood.
‘Ugly work!’ thought I,
Holding my breath.
‘Men must be cruel and proud,
‘Jousting for death’.
With gusty glimmering shone
The moon; and the wind blew colder.
A man went over the hill,
Bent to his horse’s shoulder.
‘Time for me to be gone’…
Darkly I fled.
Owls in the wood were shrill,
And the moon sank red.
poem by Siegfried Sassoon
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Middle-Ages
I heard a clash, and a cry,
And a horseman fleeing the wood.
The moon hid in a cloud.
Deep in shadow I stood.
‘Ugly work!’ thought I,
Holding my breath.
‘Men must be cruel and proud,
‘Jousting for death’.
With gusty glimmering shone
The moon; and the wind blew colder.
A man went over the hill,
Bent to his horse’s shoulder.
‘Time for me to be gone’...
Darkly I fled.
Owls in the wood were shrill,
And the moon sank red.
poem by Siegfried Sassoon
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