The thing about rigging is, you can learn it if you become a master rigger but there's no book on rigging.
quote by Richard Serra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Child Of The Damned
[ warlord cover ]
You made me see right past myself, well beyond
My fears, realized Im synchronized, far beyond my years
Im so geard unto them, I serve unto their souls
Now that Im addicted, my hunger only grows
Im a child of the damned, I follow where I go
Rigging to the cross, as holy as a whore
Im just a child of the damned
Witches coven, the time has come for those sabbatical
Years, revelation is the message, for all in all to hear
Prophets slayed, mankind arrayed into mass submission
Evils here, the lord of hell gives you the proposition
Im a child of the damned, I follow where I go
Rigging to the cross, as holy as a whore
Im just a child of the damned
Give away your life goals, your meaning and ambition
It means nothing to you, after all its superstition
Do not be afraid, the world is near the end
Is it better to rule in hell, than it is to serve in heaven?
Im a child of the damned, I follow where I go
Rigging to the cross, as holy as a whore
Im just a child of the damned
[ warlord cover ]
song performed by by Hammerfall
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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`Oh, if that Rainbow up there!
Oh, if that rainbow up there,
Spanning the sky past the hill,
Slenderly, tenderly fair
Shining with colours that thrill,
Oh, if that rainbow up there,
Just for a moment could reach
Through the wet slope of the air
Here where I stand on the beach!
Here where the waves wash the strand,
Swing itself lovingly low,
Let me catch fast with one hand,
Climb its frail rigging and go.
Climb its frail rigging and go?
Where is its haven of rest?
Out in the gleam and the glow
Of the blood-red waves of the West?
Or where the isles of the dawn
Lie on an amethyst sea,
Does it drift, pale and forlorn,
Ghost of the glory I see?
Is there, ah, is there a land
Such as the Icelanders say,
Or past the West's ruddy strand
Or on the edge of the day,
Some undiscovered clime
Seen through a cloud's sudden rift,
Where all the rainbows of Time
Slowly and silently drift?
Some happy port of a sea
Never a world's sail has made,
Where till the earth shadows flee
Never a rainbow may fade.
Oh, if that rainbow up there,
Just for a moment would reach,
Through the wet slope of the air
Here where I stand on the beach.
Here where the waves wash the strand
Swing itself lovingly low,
Let me catch fast with one hand,
Climb its frail rigging and go!
poem by Ethel Turner
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Rigging a loudspeaker and a microphone at both ends of a sewer pipe.
quote by Leonard Chess
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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South Eastern Sea of Mekong Delta
The company sent our cargo afloat;
nautilus stand on the rigging, aloft;
it is the dusk time ghosts visit oft,
tearing silences alongside the boat.
Sea roils upon the superstructure,
streaming forecastle to breakwater,
tide hits bullward as a loose cotter,
forces our suspicion for a fracture.
Water entered through the hatch;
-turn ten degrees to haul the wind,
rhythmic heave and a flashing glint,
with a swelling head-sea mismatch.
Winds Beaufort fast on evil squeal,
Iron-like gusts, we bellow the horn;
hulls down, hollers a signal to warn,
of the suffered damage on the keel.
Pump out the water, empty the bilge,
south-eastern sea of Mekong Delta,
the propeller thrusts to land shelter,
aloft the rigging bellow waves bulge.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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A low line of shore was visible at first on the right between the movement of the waves and fog, but when we came further it was lost sight of, and nothing could be seen but the mist curling in the rigging, and a small circle of foam.
quote by John Millington Synge
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dream of fog and mist (if you can)
If you can…
Dream of beaches
Dream of fog
that slides ashore
And If you can…
Learn what it teaches
Before the fog returns
To the sea once more
Dream of yardarms…
Of dripping rigging
Of treasure chests
Just ripe for digging
Dream of islands
With crystal sand
With coral reefs
And mountains grand
Dream of fog and mist
Mugs of rum…
Of frigate birds…
Of hawsers thrum
Of cool sea breezes
From exotic land
In sleep…dream deep…
Dream of beaches…
…If you can…
poem by David Whalen
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The Ballad of the 'Britain's Pride
It was a skipper of Lowestoft
That trawled the northern sea,
In a smack of thrice ten tons and seven,
And the
Britain's Pride
was she.
And the waves were high to windward,
And the waves were high to lee,
And he said as he lost his trawl-net,
'What is to be, will be.'
His craft she reeled and staggered,
But he headed her for the hithe,
In a storm that threatened to mow her down
As grass is mown by the scythe;
When suddenly through the cloud-rift
The moon came sailing soft,
And he saw one mast of a sunken ship
Like a dead arm held aloft.
And a voice came faint from the rigging-
'Help! help!' it whispered and sighed-
And a single form to the sole mast clung,
In the roaring darkness wide.
Oh the crew were but four hands all told,
On board of the
Britain's Pride
,
And ever 'Hold on till daybreak!'
Across the night they cried.
Slowly melted the darkness,
Slowly rose the sun,
And only the lad in the rigging
Was left, out of thirty-one,
To tell the tale of his captain,
The English sailor true,
That did his duty and met his death
As English sailors do.
Peace to the gallant spirit,
The greatly proved and tried,
And to all who have fed the hungry sea
That is still unsatisfied;
And honour and glory for ever,
While rolls the unresting tide,
To the skipper of little Lowestoft,
And the crew of the
Britain's Pride
.
poem by William Watson
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There came to port last Sunday night the queerest little craft, without an inch of rigging on; I looked and looked - and laughed. It seemed so curious that she should cross the unknown water, and moor herself within my room - my daughter! O my daughter!
quote by George Washington Cable
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cold Sailing
Waves enfold waves.
With rolling swell
we rise and fall.
Through deafening static
of storm-struck air
I hear the rigging’s
ringing fear
as under the bridge
titanic ships
plow darker paths
through
shadowed bay.
With sails engorged,
swiftly
we fly away!
poem by Steven Federle
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Storm at Sausalito
Sailboats lashed to the pier,
ebon masts, dark trees bare
with tightly shrouded canvas sail,
rigging singing in the gale,
pier groaning, grey waves grind
clinging sloops to taut lines,
steel bulwarks rise and fall
against gleaming, cool jetty walls.
poem by Steven Federle
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Moma Dance
and all throughout I gaze and glimpse you
loving never did convince you
I see you when you're all alone
it's like a person I've not known
the moment ends though I feel winds
blowing differently than ever before
and they're pushing me further from shore
a frothy cap the steady slap
of lines against the rail
a biting rain take in the main
up the rigging take in sail mind the skipper we'll not fail
he'll bring out wine all will be fine just hear the order watch the sail
the moment ends
song performed by by Phish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Moma Dance
And all throughout I gaze and glimpse you
Loving never did convince you
I see you when youre all alone
Its like a person Ive not known
The moment ends though I feel winds
Blowing differently than ever before
And theyre pushing me further from shore
A frothy cap the steady slap
Of lines against the rail
A biting rain take in the main
Up the rigging take in sail mind the skipper well not fail
Hell bring out wine all will be fine just hear the order watch the sail
The moment ends
song performed by by Phish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Louisville, CO/2000
Pour into glasses
and dreams slowly bubbly
Achieving islands uninterrupted rigging
dusk weeping face
Maybe the sky was blue beyond
Between Louisville was a stranded island
Within self-guzzler
Within pedestrian
Shoes stepped between snow
Who never stopped looking for shelter
Cold air from the storm outside
The islands are left in a staggered
The legs do not tick-early evening hours
in the hands of
Postcards lined in rooms such as mosaic bricks
poem by Imam Setiaji Ronoatmojo
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The Phantom Ship. (Birds Of Passage. Flight The First)
In Mather's Magnalia Christi,
Of the old colonial time,
May be found in prose the legend
That is here set down in rhyme.
A ship sailed from New Haven,
And the keen and frosty airs,
That filled her sails at parting,
Were heavy with good men's prayers.
'O Lord! if it be thy pleasure'--
Thus prayed the old divine--
'To bury our friends in the ocean,
Take them, for they are thine!'
But Master Lamberton muttered,
And under his breath said he,
'This ship is so crank and walty
I fear our grave she will be!'
And the ships that came from England,
When the winter months were gone,
Brought no tidings of this vessel
Nor of Master Lamberton.
This put the people to praying
That the Lord would let them hear
What in his greater wisdom
He had done with friends so dear.
And at last their prayers were answered:--
It was in the month of June,
An hour before the sunset
Of a windy afternoon,
When, steadily steering landward,
A ship was seen below,
And they knew it was Lamberton, Master,
Who sailed so long ago.
On she came, with a cloud of canvas,
Right against the wind that blew,
Until the eye could distinguish
The faces of the crew.
Then fell her straining topmasts,
Hanging tangled in the shrouds,
And her sails were loosened and lifted,
And blown away like clouds.
And the masts, with all their rigging,
Fell slowly, one by one,
And the hulk dilated and vanished,
As a sea-mist in the sun!
And the people who saw this marvel
Each said unto his friend,
That this was the mould of their vessel,
And thus her tragic end.
And the pastor of the village
Gave thanks to God in prayer,
That, to quiet their troubled spirits,
He had sent this Ship of Air.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Discord in Childhood
Outside the house an ash-tree hung its terrible whips,
And at night when the wind arose, the lash of the tree
Shrieked and slashed the wind, as a ship’s
Weird rigging in a storm shrieks hideously.
Within the house two voices arose in anger, a slender lash
Whistling delirious rage, and the dreadful sound
Of a thick lash booming and bruising, until it drowned
The other voice in a silence of blood, ’neath the noise of the ash.
poem by David Herbert Lawrence
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So Destructive
It's so destructive
Counter productive
How we gonna make it
When we do not know where love lives [2x]
I'm not seeing what you're saying
All the games that you are playing
Look like tactics for delaying
While we're on our knees and praying
Making and breaking
Sitting and debating
The art of speculating
Then accumulating
I'm not buying what you're selling
All your shouting and a yelling
And the lies that you are telling
Don't strike me as compelling
Picking and choosing
Winning and losing
Cutting and bruising
Using and abusing
I'm not taking what you're giving
The elections you are rigging
From your penthouse living
The deals that you are fixing
Creeping and crawling
Running and falling
Stopping and stalling
Crying and bawling
song performed by by Ub40
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Great Lament Of My Obscurity Three
where we live the flowers of the clocks catch fire and the plumes encircle the brightness in the distant sulphur morning the cows lick the salt lilies
my son
my son
let us always shuffle through the colour of the world
which looks bluer than the subway and astronomy
we are too thin
we have no mouth
our legs are stiff and knock together
our faces are formeless like the stars
crystal points without strength burned basilica
mad : the zigzags crack
telephone
bite the rigging liquefy
the arc
climb
astral
memory
towards the north through its double fruit
like raw flesh
hunger fire blood
poem by Tristan Tzara
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Lord of the Flies
Oh Master my Master
Oh where have you been
I wallowed in filth and
I drowned in sin
Oh Master my Master
It's my rotten luck
To swim in the decay
And swallow the muck
Oh Master my Master
I stand in the fires
Surrounded by murderers
Thieves, cheaters, and liars
Oh Master my Master
the earth has turned red
Fluid with blood
Of the recently dead
Oh Master my Master
What's wrong with the world
The blackness unfolds
Like a flag that's unfurled
Oh Master my Master
You ignore my cries
And now I'm quite sure
You're the Lord of the Flies
poem by Anonymous Ghurl
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Oh Africa!
oh! my continent
where my people starve for food,
where my people are suffering,
with extreme poverty.
where things interchange
corruption for the leader,
hopeless for the citizen,
poverty for the people,
street for the lunatic,
Rigging for the election,
jobless for the educative,
fraud for the youth,
expensive cars for the politicians,
laughage film for the white,
crying bitter things for the Black,
should we call this fate?
The fifty_four caps had turned Africa to something else,
The fifty_four caps has now unable to fit us.
poem by Agbaje Samson from Oh Africa! (21 March 2020), translated by Agbaje Samson
Submitted by Talented£
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Listen, Learn, Read On
In ages past when spells were cast
In a time of men in steel
When a man was taught no special thing
It was all done by feel
So listen, so learn, so read on
You gotta turn the page, read the book of taliesyn
Hear the song of lovely joan
Her sound so sweet and clear
In the courtroom of the king
Among children and the peers
So listen, so learn, so read on
You gotta turn the page, read the book of taliesyn
now hear ye the words of taliesyn,
On the foaming beach of the ocean,
In the day of trouble,
I shall be of more service to thee
Than three hundred salmon...
The hare he bounds across the page
Past castles white and fair
Past dreaming chessmen on their boards
With a fools mate as a snare
So listen, so learn, so read on
You gotta turn the page, read the book of taliesyn
three times I have been born
I know this from meditation...
The bird he flies the distance
From pages two to six
Past minstrels in their boxes
To the waters of the styx
So listen, so learn, so read on
You gotta turn the page, read the book of taliesyn
Dont take the pictures lightly
Listen to their sound
For from their coloured feeling
Experience is found
So listen, so learn, so read on
You gotta turn the page, read the book of taliesyn
all the sciences of the world are collected in my breast,
For I know what has been, what is now,
And what hereafter will occur...
song performed by by Deep Purple
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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