A sincere diplomat is like dry water or wooden iron.
quote by Joseph Stalin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sincere diplomacy is no more possible than dry water or wooden iron.
Captain Kennedy
I am a young mariner headed to war
Im thinkin bout my family and what it was for
Theres water on the wood and the sails feel good
And when I get to shore I hope that I can kill good.
My father was a sailor named captain kennedy
He lost his wooden schooner to the germans on the sea
Exploded on the water for everyone to see
And humiliate that american captain kennedy.
I saw him in nassau in 1971
His strength was failin but he still ran a run
He worked til his fingers wore to the bone
To buy that wooden schooner and sail on his own.
He was known in the islands as hundred foot iron
That steel hull freighter was passin its time
And time flew by faster with life on the sea
And the days grew shorter for captain kennedy.
I am a young mariner headed to war
Im thinkin bout my family and what it was for
Theres water on the wood and the sails feel good
And when I get to shore I hope that I can kill good.
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rags & Old Iron
Norman curtis, oscar brown jr
Rags old iron rags old iron
All he was buying was just rags and old iron
I heard that old rag man now making his rounds
He came right to my alley lord with sorrowful sounds
Crying rags old iron and pulling his cart
Ask him how much hed give me for my broken heart
Rags old iron rags old iron
All he was buying was just rags and old iron
So I asked that old rag man how much he would pay
For a heart that was broken baby when you went away
For a burnt out old love light that no longer beams
And a couple of slightly used second hand dreams
Rags old iron rags old iron
All he was buying was just rags and old iron
For those big empty promises you used to make
For those memories of you that are no longer sweet
I wish he could haul them off down the street
Rags old iron rags old iron
All he was buying was just rags and old iron
When love doesnt last tell me what is it worth
It was once mamas most precious possession on earth
When I asked that old rag man if hed like to buy
He just shook his head and continued to cry
Rags old iron rags old iron
All he was buying was just rags and old iron
Rags old iron rags old iron
Rags old iron rags old iron rags old iron
song performed by by Nina Simone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Battles are won by iron hearts in wooden ships.
Ernst Junger in The Storm of Steel
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For ten years Caesar ruled with an iron hand. Then with a wooden foot, and finally with a piece of string.
Spike Milligan in The Goons
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hutterite Mile
on from here walkin dreams awake
i think not i think not
the sky comes king blown in every direction
and of no country
i am straw
it is no mystery
i know my way from here
iron sharpens iron
crooked wooden and peacock black
i have your feathers
slung across my back
i'm not the only one
to help you down the hill
my blue knuckles do as they will
it is no mystery
i know my way from here
it is no mystery
i know my way from here
one as precious as the other
they go with me
today i am not a false conscience
a tyrant
angels line my pockets dear
i walk a hutterite mile
look at me this once
put an eye to my step
look and furrow
its only misery its only ankle deep
it is no mystery
i know my way from here
it is no mystery
i know my way from here
song performed by by 16 Horsepower
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Our Eyes
Our eyes
are limpid
drops of water.
In each drop exists
a tiny sign
of our genius
which has given life to cold iron.
Our eyes
are limpid
drops of water
merged absolutely in the Ocean
that you could hardly recognize
the drop in a block of ice
in a boiling pan.
The masterpiece of these eyes
the fulfillment of their genius
the living iron.
In these eyes
filled with limpid
pure tears
had failed to emerge
from the infinite Ocean
if the strength
had dispersed,
we could never have mated
the dynamo with the turbine,
never have moved
those steel mountains in water
easily
as if made of hollow wood.
The masterpiece of these eyes
the fulfillment of their genius
of our unified labour
the living iron.
Translated by Taner Baybars
poem by Nazim Hikmet
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(Hide and seek)
My father gets the wooden stick
he counts from five
i run and hide...
My father is coming with the wooden stick
he counts from four
i close my bedroom door...
My father is looking for me with the wooden stick
he counts from three
as he searches for me...
My father is close by with the wooden stick
he counts from two
my face turns blue...
My father is right next to me
with the wooden stick
he counts from one
now i'm done...
My father finds me
with the wooden stick
he counts from zero
...yes i know, i'm in trouble...
My father says
'there you are!
i found you
now it's your turn to count
and my turn to hide'
...and the game continued...
poem by Allen Steble
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Are You Sincere?
The words you said to me,
you repeat to someone new.
You say the things I want to hear,
but are you sincere?
I sit alone and wonder,
if your words are meant for me,
that I am the only one that you hold dear.
However, my mind keeps nagging, are you sincere?
Friends tell me stories about you,
I do not want to believe.
You just say the words are all lies.
In my mind the questions still arise, are you sincere?
I find the back door open,
when I come home at night.
You say you left it open in a state of fear.
As I close and lock it I wonder, are you sincere?
(12 June 2007)
poem by David Harris
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Are You Sincere
(words & music by wayne walker)
Are you sincere when you say I love you
Are you sincere when you say you love me too
Oh and are you really mine every day, all the time
Ive gotta know which way to go
Will our love grow, are you sincere
Are you sincere when you say I love you
Honey, are you sincere when you say you love me too
And are you really mine every day, all the time
Ive gotta know which way to go
Will our love grow, are you sincere
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Alive Toys
Unfortunately some did not have any toy
In the childhood...
Exchange, they now play with alive toys
As by wooden...
Passions grow together the authorities
By iron wings...
Unfortunately they did not have any toy
In the childhood...
poem by Tsira Gogeshvili
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Only You
We suffer everyday, what is it for
These crimes of illusion, are fooling us all
And now I am weary and I feel like I do
Its only you, who can tell me apart
And its only you, who can turn my wooden heart
The size of our fight, its just a dream
Weve crushed everything I can see, in this morning selfishly
How weve failed and I feel like I do
Its only you, who can tell me apart
And its only you, who can turn my wooden heart
Now that weve chosen to take all we can
This shade of autumn, a stale bitter end
Years of frustration lay down side by side
And its only you, who can tell me apart
And its only you, who can turn my wooden heart
Its only you, who can tell me apart
And its only you, who can turn my wooden heart
song performed by by Portishead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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4. Elements – Water
Water an elemental
Water a fundamental
Building block of life
Water of Life
Water of Death
Water in all religions
Water in all living things
Water in all countries
Water also used for barter
No life without water
No rife with water
No respect for water
Willful neglect of water
Water, for cooking
Water, for cleaning
Water, for drinking
Water, for living
Water, for dying
Water is the same
In all languages
Water is the same
To all living beings
poem by Anand Dixit
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Looking for Water
Still the leaves are spinning 'round
Take my hand as we go down, and down, and down
Looking for water
Well, our light's gone in a New York minute
Don't know about you, but my heart's not in it
(Looking, looking, looking)
I'm looking for water
I'm looking for water
(Looking, looking, looking)
I can't breathe the air, can't raise a fact
'Cause all we've got left is a beat in the night, and I'm
(Looking for water)
Looking for water
(Looking for water)
(Looking, looking)
Take my hand as we go down, and down
Leave it all behind, nothing could be found
(I'm, looking for water)
I'm looking for water
(Looking for water)
(Looking, looking)
(I, looking for water)
Looking everywhere
(Looking for water)
Looking here and there
(I'm looking for water)
I'm looking for water
(Looking for water)
(Looking, looking)
I can't live in this cage, I can't eat this candy
The edge of the earth to the spin in my head
The look in your eyes and never means never
The dawn's early light, baby, dark is forever
(Looking, looking)
(Looking, looking)
(Looking for water)
(Looking, looking)
I
(Looking for water)
(Looking for water)
(Looking, looking)
I
(Looking for water)
(Looking for water)
(Looking, looking)
I
(Looking for water)
(Looking for watter)
Looking, looking)
I
(Looking for water)
(Looking for watter)
Looking, looking)
I
(Looking for water)
(Looking for watter)
song performed by by David Bowie, music by David Bowie, lyrics by David Bowie from Reality
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Better walk on wooden legs, than be carried on a wooden bier.
On Blood, Water, and Other Fluids of Varying Density
Blood is thicker than water
So they say
But so is jam, and honey,
And mercury, and porridge, and-
Let’s just say a lot of things
Are thicker than water.
Blood is thicker than water
So they say
But there’s ‘a friend who sticks closer than a brother’-
So is that a ‘water’ or a ‘blood’,
Or a watered-down ‘blood’
Or a bloodied-up ‘water’?
There are many kinds of friends-
Depending on their circulations-
Indeed, some are so thick
They need nuclear-powered hearts
Just to pump all that tar
To all parts of their bodies
Women of steel and iron men…
So when you turn around,
And your friend has ‘got your back’;
Then you wind up with six inches of dagger
Sticking from it-
Don’t worry; it’s perfectly explainable-
They just wanted to see what kind of fluid
Runs through YOUR veins…
Cabinessence
Light the lamp and fire mellow,
Cabin essence timely hello,
Welcomes the time for a change.
Lost and found, you still remain there.
Youll find a meadow filled with grain there.
Ill give you a home on the range.
Who ran the iron horse?
Who ran the iron horse?
Who ran the iron horse?
Who ran the iron horse?
Who ran the iron horse?
Who ran the iron horse?
Who ran the iron horse?
Who ran the iron horse?
Who ran the iron horse?
Who ran the iron horse?
I want to watch you windblown facing
Waves of wheat for your embracing.
Folks sing a song of the grange.
Nestle in a kiss below there.
The constellations ebb and flow there.
And witness our home on the range.
Who ran the iron horse?
(truck driving man do what you can)
Who ran the iron horse?
(high-tail your load off the road)
Who ran the iron horse?
(out of night-life-its a gas man)
Who ran the iron horse?
(I dont believe I gotta grieve)
Who ran the iron horse?
(in and out of luck)
Who ran the iron horse?
(with a buck and a booth)
Who ran the iron horse?
(catchin on to the truth)
Who ran the iron horse?
(in the vast past, the last gasp)
Who ran the iron horse?
(in the land, in the dust, trust that you must)
Who ran the iron horse?
(catch as catch can)
Have you seen the grand coolie workin on the railroad?
Have you seen the grand coolie workin on the railroad?
Have you seen the grand coolie workin on the railroad?
Over and over,
The crow cries uncover the cornfield.
Over and over,
The thresher and hover the wheat field.
Over and over,
The crow cries uncover the cornfield.
Over and over,
The thresher and hover the wheat field.
Over and over,
The crow cries uncover the cornfield.
Over and over,
The thresher and hover the wheat field.
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Song
I told my nymph, I told her true,
My fields were small, my flocks were few,
While faltering accents spoke my fear,
That Flavia might not prove sincere.
Of crops destroyed by vernal cold,
And vagrant sheep that left my fold;
Of these she heard, yet bore to hear;
And is not Flavia then sincere?
How, chang'd by fortune's fickle wind,
The friends I loved became unkind;
She heard, and shed a generous tear;
And is not Flavia then sincere?
How, if she deign'd my love to bless,
My Flavia must not hope for fress;
This, too, she heard, and smiled to hear;
And Flavia, sure, must be sincere.
Go shear your flocks, ye jovial swains;
Go reap the plenty of your plains;
Despoiled of all which you revere,
I know my Flavia's love sincere.
poem by William Shenstone
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A diplomat must always think twice before he says nothing.
The Iron Bridge
I am standing on a disused iron bridge
that was erected in 1902,
according to the iron plaque bolted into a beam,
the year my mother turned one.
Imagine--a mother in her infancy,
and she was a Canadian infant at that,
one of the great infants of the province of Ontario.
But here I am leaning on the rusted railing
looking at the water below,
which is flat and reflective this morning,
sky-blue and streaked with high clouds,
and the more I look at the water,
which is like a talking picture,
the more I think of 1902
when workmen in shirts and caps
riveted this iron bridge together
across a thin channel joining two lakes
where wildflowers blow along the shore now
and pairs of swans float in the leafy coves.
1902--my mother was so tiny
she could have fit into one of those oval
baskets for holding apples,
which her mother could have lined with a soft cloth
and placed on the kitchen table
so she could keep an eye on infant Katherine
while she scrubbed potatoes or shelled a bag of peas,
the way I am keeping an eye on that cormorant
who just broke the glassy surface
and is moving away from me and the iron bridge,
swiveling his curious head,
slipping out to where the sun rakes the water
and filters through the trees that crowd the shore.
And now he dives,
disappears below the surface,
and while I wait for him to pop up,
I picture him flying underwater with his strange wings,
as I picture you, my tiny mother,
who disappeared last year,
flying somewhere with your strange wings,
your wide eyes, and your heavy wet dress,
kicking deeper down into a lake
with no end or name, some boundless province of water.
poem by Billy Collins
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