Windmills, which are used in the great plains of Holland and North Germany to supply the want of falling water, afford another instance of the action of velocity. The sails are driven by air in motion - by wind.
quote by Hermann von Helmholtz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Wind
He shouts in the sails of the ships at sea,
He steals the down from the honeybee,
He makes the forest trees rustle and sing,
He twirls my kite till it breaks its string.
Laughing, dancing, sunny wind,
Whistling, howling, rainy wind,
North, South, East and West,
Each is the wind I like the best.
He calls up the fog and hides the hills,
He whirls the wings of the great windmills,
The weathercocks love him and turn to discover
His whereabouts -- but he's gone, the rover!
Laughing, dancing, sunny wind,
Whistling, howling, rainy wind,
North, South, East and West,
Each is the wind I like the best.
The pine trees toss him their cones with glee,
The flowers bend low in courtesy,
Each wave flings up a shower of pearls,
The flag in front of the school unfurls.
Laughing, dancing, sunny wind,
Whistling, howling, rainy wind,
North, South, East and West,
Each is the wind I like the best.
poem by Amy Lowell
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Wind
He shouts in the sails of the ships at sea,
He steals the down from the honeybee,
He makes the forest trees rustle and sing,
He twirls my kite till it breaks its string.
Laughing, dancing, sunny wind,
Whistling, howling, rainy wind,
North, South, East and West,
Each is the wind I like the best.
He calls up the fog and hides the hills,
He whirls the wings of the great windmills,
The weathercocks love him and turn to discover
His whereabouts -- but he's gone, the rover!
Laughing, dancing, sunny wind,
Whistling, howling, rainy wind,
North, South, East and West,
Each is the wind I like the best.
The pine trees toss him their cones with glee,
The flowers bend low in courtesy,
Each wave flings up a shower of pearls,
The flag in front of the school unfurls.
Laughing, dancing, sunny wind,
Whistling, howling, rainy wind,
North, South, East and West,
Each is the wind I like the best.
poem by Amy Lowell
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The great weight of the ship may indeed prevent her from acquiring her greatest velocity; but when she has attained it, she will advance by her own intrinsic motion, without gaining any new degree of velocity, or lessening what she has acquired.
quote by William Falconer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Ship of Fools
38 poets are sailing across Loch Katrine
Over the city of Glasgow's public water supply
30,000 sheep were cleared from the hills around
To keep Glaswegian plumbing ewe-pee free
Their elders were not consulted in this matter
Driven lamenting off their ancestral pastures
The mutton clearances, a stain on Glasgow's character.
This loch is 500 feet deep
A water bull as large as a Clydeside bus
Stays in its icy depths, waiting
To hole the hulls of oily polluters
In the city of Glasgow's public water supply
Green Tagged Kate McLaren, the Gartmore Palmer.
Black Mini Muddler. Professor Watson's Fancy,
Black Zulu, the Middle dropper
All, have got their hooks in
The city of Glasgow's public water supply.
Meanwhile, above all those jugfuls of pub-mixers,
Throat coolers, juice diluting gallons,
buzzards swoop over the trees
red and roe deer feed on the slopes
pied flycatcher, tree pipit, wood warbler, redstart
soar and dive through the leaves
Occasionally dropping feathers
On the city of Glasgow's public water supply
Not to mention 38 poets, raising an ode or two
Like sails in the wind, as poets do,
Steering by sleight and illusion,
Over the city of Glasgow's public water supply.
Uisge beathe with a smidgeon of Bardic tang
poem by Sheena Blackhall
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She Took The Wind From His Sails
Outer banks of North Carolina
Lies a sleepy harbor town
Generations of old sailors
Dropped their sails and settled down
Sam he is a young seafarer
Grandson of a sailmaker's daughter
Today he's gonna take her hand
Chorus:
Calm waters
Wish them well
His ship's come in
She's put the wind in his sails
Catherine is a canvas painter
Paints the sun and sand and sea
Lately she's been painting a portrait
Sammy is a dad to be
Chorus
January brought the fever
Sam was right there by her side
Doctor told him son I'm sorry
But Catherine needs your prayers tonight
Morning light brought Sam a daughter
Fever took his better half
Sam gave Catherine to the water
As he held their baby to his chest
Calm waters
Wished him well
His ship came in
But she took the wind from his sails
His ship came in
But she took the wind from his sails
song performed by by George Strait
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Flying Dutchman
The blue water stretches
as far as visibility allows to see
and there’s fog
rising white before the storm
out of the water.
The dusk becomes grey
and the sea from blue to dark black
while the night
darker than ink, as only companion
folds over the old ancient ship.
It’s Van der Decken standing as tiller man
behind the big wheel
and forever he steers the ship
on the journey that she goes.
Always cursing
his loud voice thunders
like lightning falling around him
for sailors to tend the sails right
and sails are hoisted crunching, groaning and trembling
with strong ropes
and the ship jumps
over the smashing waves.
Like a phantom
the Flying Dutchman appears
with white sails like a wraith
over the horizon
where it sails before a storm with speed.
The ship becomes lager
as the storm wind
brings her closer
and you hear her creak
against the power of the wind.
There’s thunder bolts blinding suddenly
and sea birds flies screeching
out in front of her,
while Van der Decken’s skeleton
drills his men powerless
to set the sails right
that is vibrating against the wind.
“How long still Lord, ”
echoes against the sea and sky,
without a answer
ever coming
and suddenly the ship is gone
as if it disappeared in the naught.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Anybody who has stood on the prairie in North Dakota has felt the force of the wind and knows that our state has an inexhaustible supply of wind power. The potential here to create jobs and draw millions of dollars in new investment to North Dakota is enormous.
quote by Kent Conrad
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Why are some great?
The mass and the velocity
Determine an object's movement.
A winged seed travels,
Thanks to the lighter mass.
A bullet travels fast,
Thanks to the velocity.
Successful men are more
From their velocity,
The capacity to spread,
Than from the worthiness
Of their deliveries.
No man can become great
Without maneuvering power.
29.04.2012
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Red Sails
Feel a bit roughed up, feel a bit frightened
Nearly pin it down some time
Red sail action wake up in the wrong town
Boy, I really get around
Thunder ocean
Thunder ocean
Red sails take me, make me sail along
Red sails, and a mast so tall
Red sail
Red sail
Do you remember we another person
Green and black and red and so scared
Graffiti on the wall kept us all in tune
Bringing us all back home
Red sails
Thunder ocean
Red sails
Sailor cant dance like you, ooh, yooou
Ahh, red sail
Red sail action
Red sail
Some reaction
Action boy seen living under neon
Struggle with a foreign tongue
Red sails make him strong
Action make him sail along
Life stands still and stares
The hinterland, the hinterland
Were gonna sail to the hinterland
And its far far, far far far, far far far away
Its a far far, far far far, fa da, da da da
1
2
3-4
Ooooooo
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It was fear. He didn't want to see a united Germany. Stalin made it clear to me - I spoke with him many times - that they couldn't afford to let Germany build up again. They'd been invaded twice, and he wasn't willing to have it happen again.
quote by W. Averell Harriman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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North of North
I’m treading shallow water
and there’s moss on all sides of the trees
evergreen
this must be north,
north of north.
“Sometimes I am rock-like
and sometimes I am herring
and sometimes I am you.”
I say this while the water works like wind
upon my eyelashes.
When you are underwater you are always crying
or never crying
and it doesn’t look so blue.
Your boots are territorially based,
rock and rock and mud.
“Do you plan on swimming the whole way? ”
I close my eyes like you don’t exist
like I am being eaten by a bear
like the water is my water and I am dying.
Then I am crying real salt tears
into the real fresh water
and I think of the tree you cut down
and how it cried real maple tears
and surrendered.
“No, ” I say. “We’re here.”
poem by Shaye Anderson
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Autumn In My Mind
i guess the color must be
pastel
pastel yellow and the feeling
must be humid
or if not it is something soft
and yet dry
and the only motion
like what candice describes
in her poem
must always be the
falling and
falling
and falling
and falling
and
touching the ground
with so much silence
except the
murmur of the
wind
always passing by
and not
really remembering
anything
between us
but i always remember
yes, always,
the pulsating pain
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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HALO (High Altitude, Low Opening) freefall insertion (Terzanelle
Falling through space with rushing air
you dropp from a plane as if flying on wings
with wind blowing everywhere, sweat in your hair
with the morning glow radiating between things
and the sun creeping over the horizon in a red ball
you dropp from a plane as if flying on wings
with oxygen feeding through the mask you feel small
seeing the earth rushing in at great speed
and the sun creeping over the horizon in a red ball
and your eyes watch the altimeter spinning, taking heed
trusting implicitly on the gear
seeing the earth rushing in at great speed
you are falling at terminal velocity with fear
and sensing the distance
trusting implicitly on the gear
and you pull the drawstring, expecting enemy resistance,
falling through space with rushing air
and sensing the distance
with wind blowing everywhere, sweat in your hair
poem by Gert Strydom
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A Wind Breeze
I am the Southern Breeze;
bearer of the Wisteria;
The North Wind
from where the ice blows.
I am the lover's caress
on sandy beach,
The Wind-Mill Corn Grinder
and the Water Wheel;
I am invisible
yet everywhere
I blow all over
this globe.
.
I've billowed your sails
propelled your ships
carried you
to far lands;
opened to you
new worlds.
True, too,
I have blown your houses down
tornadoed the things you love.
I am too
the wind of Bad Luck
and Ill Fate.
I am the wind in your lungs.
I carry the oxygen you breathe
first life's halting blush
and likely the last to leave
your body's chest.
Now my clear air
is grey
smoky
smoke-stacked
and my once proud
life of this planet
is near extinct.
Sixty miles;
just an hour's drive
of me and my oxygen
are your only shield;
against the void of outer space;
the cosmic rays,
the deadly magnetic fields
meteors and asteroids
all crash down were it
not for me;
the sun's infrared rays
would burn if I did not block.
for you and provide a cloak.
Indeed,
I am the life you breathe
from birth's first
to death's last.
You've felt me
on your face
riding the plains,
while walking the meadows;
remember I am
the Invisible Sea
you sail
and your final
Destiny.
I am the wind;
your oxygen.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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You know, North Korea situation is far worse than East Germany, and South Korea is weaker than West Germany.
quote by Kim Dae Jung
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Merchant
Where sails the ship?--It leads the Tyrian forth
For the rich amber of the liberal north.
Be kind, ye seas--winds, lend your gentlest wing,
May in each creek sweet wells restoring spring!--
To you, ye gods, belong the merchant!--o'er
The waves his sails the wide world's goods explore;
And, all the while, wherever waft the gales
The wide world's good sails with him as he sails!
poem by Friedrich Schiller
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By the Grey Gulf-water
Far to the Northward there lies a land,
A wonderful land that the winds blow over,
And none may fathom or understand
The charm it holds for the restless rover;
A great grey chaos -- a land half made,
Where endless space is and no life stirreth;
There the soul of a man will recoil afraid
From the sphinx-like visage that Nature weareth.
But old Dame Nature, though scornful, craves
Her dole of death and her share of slaughter;
Many indeed are the nameless graves
Where her victims sleep by the Grey Gulf-water.
Slowly and slowly those grey streams glide,
Drifting along with a languid motion,
Lapping the reed-beds on either side,
Wending their way to the North Ocean.
Grey are the plains where the emus pass
Silent and slow, with their dead demeanour;
Over the dead man's graves the grass
Maybe is waving a trifle greener.
Down in the world where men toil and spin
Dame Nature smiles as man's hand has taught her;
Only the dead men her smiles can win
In the great lone land by the Grey Gulf-water.
For the strength of man is an insect's strength
In the face of that mighty plain and river,
And the life of a man is a moment's length
To the life of the stream that will run for ever.
And so it comes that they take no part
In small world worries; each hardy rover
Rides like a paladin, light of heart,
With the plains around and the blue sky over.
And up in the heavens the brown lark sings
The songs the strange wild land has taught her;
Full of thanksgiving her sweet song rings --
And I wish I were back by the Grey Gulf-water.
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
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North Wind
I love you, malcontent
Male wind -
Shaking the pollen from a flower
Or hurling the sea backward from the grinning sand.
Blow on and over my dreams…
Scatter my sick dreams…
Throw your lusty arms about me…
Envelop all my hot body…
Carry me to pine forests -
Great, rough-bearded forests…
Bring me to stark plains and steppes…
I would have the North to-night -
The cold, enduring North.
And if we should meet the Snow,
Whirling in spirals,
And he should blind my eyes…
Ally, you will defend me -
You will hold me close,
Blowing on my eyelids.
poem by Lola Ridge
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If I remember rightly Holland for instance has something like 45, and it's a much smaller country. In comparison we have very few and they are very badly financed.
quote by Richard Rogers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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