Music in itself carries a whole set of messages which are very, very rich and complex, and the words either serve to exclude certain ones or point up certain others.
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Morning after morning he opens my ear that I may hear; And I have not rebelled, have not turned back.
that red ant is too small
for the mountain of
a grain of steamed rice
cold grain
alone on the floor
but he carries it
for something useful in
mind
for the queen
never has it resisted
a challenge
to serve
it does not have a back
to turn
in silence
it carries the burden
ears as antenna
detecting what must be kept
for good
for use
for other's consumption
it does not eat
whatever it finds
it simply does its duty
and gives
that is his treasure
must we too
open our ears
receive those messages
not keeping
any wisdom like a treasure
in the islands of
our convoluted brains
and simply giving
what we find
to all those thirsty
minds?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Rich Music
Rich music like the morning sun, showers us with tender love
Touching our dear lives with so much tenderness to be won.
Rich music spreads peace right across the air like a gentle dove,
So that we can feel the need to live together as one.
Rich music fills the whole place with sounds of harmony above
That we can live in the world, so pleasant and filled with fun.
Rich music gives notes on how we can handle the inside of
Ourselves, so that we can live to shine like the sun.
Rich music tells how we can give our illness a good shove,
So that all the good we bring into our lives can be done.
poem by Obinna Kenechukwu Eruchie
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In the Vale of Llangollen
In the fields and the lanes again!
There's a bird that sings in my ear
Messages, messages;
The green cool song that I long to hear.
It pipes to me out of a tree
Messages, messages;
This is the voice of the sunshine,
This is the voice of grass and the trees.
It is the joy of Earth
Out of the heaven of the trees:
The voice of a bird in the sunshine singing me
Messages, messages.
poem by Arthur Symons
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Weight of the Wind
The wind carries much more than we see
It carries a lot of what makes you and me
The wind blows and carries lies
Around the world it carries cries
We don't hear nor see any of these things
We don't know or feel what the wind brings
The wind carries the wishes and dreams
The wind carries promises down streams
On it lays our secrets we hold inside
Also the love for others we try to hide
It carries so much oh how I wish to know
With all that weight how can the wind blow?
poem by Mathew Welch
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Secret Message
A moving stream of information
That is floating on the wind
The secrets never end
And now they call,
They sing, they play, they dance
For you, from out of the blue,
What can you do?
Chorus:
The secret messages are calling to me endlessly
They call to me across the air
The messages across the atmosphere
They whisper in your ear, they're calling everywhere
Where words cascade like rainbows tumbling from the sky
Then I'll be there, I'll be there
When messages will call to you their secrets all around
Without a sound, they're all around
Chorus:
Those secret messages that spill into the air from far away
So far away
A flowing river of illusion running with confusion
Never gone - it goes on and on
Repeat Chorus
song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rich and Poor
In me a sense has felt like each,
One causes others to wonder of strange beliefs,
In a feeding are the poor,
Poor are the opposite of the Rich.
In this side of the valley,
The Rich are better at living,
In opposition to the laughter
Of the Poor.
Poor is not Rich,
And Rich carries no Wealth
Of Heavenly Times.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Secret Messages
A moving stream of information
That is floating on the wind
The secrets never end
And now they call,
They sing, they play, they dance
For you, from out of the blue,
What can you do?
Chorus: the secret messages are calling to me endlessly
They call to me across the air
The messages across the atmosphere
They whisper in your ear, theyre calling everywhere
Where words cascade like rainbows tumbling from the sky
Then Ill be there, Ill be there
When messages will call to you their secrets all around
Without a sound, theyre all around
Chorus
Those secret messages that spill into the air from far away
So far away
A flowing river of illusion running with confusion
Never gone - it goes on and on
Chorus
song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Land of Music
I come from a land of music
the drums of Africa beat in my ears
the chorus of Europe ringing in the air
the decibels are everlasting
the flutes of Asia so sweet sounding
I come from a land of music
the music is life and afterlife
if music is gone there is no point
no point in living, every thing
everything you know is done, gone, no more.
I come from the land of music, music is my life.
poem by Jessi Fujisaki
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I Hope For Improvement
I have a point to improve,
And to improve presence;
Releasing the mark is correct,
Played upon and imaginative.
My point is that I hope
To exclude the promises,
And so form the invitations
Of some preparations.
Introduce me sometimes,
And replace me with others.
To represent my party of people
Is using the points perfectly.
I follow and be followed
Like the jumping of athletes.
To save me seems to run
Into difficulties.
poem by Naveed Akram
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For My Secret Love
i content myself with only
a glance of you per day
to exclude the touch
of your hand,
to exclude practically
everything
that may fulfill this longing
at one glance only
for only an hour of the year
i can say
my life is fulfilled in self-
restraint.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Yet, Another Prayer to God
God make me rich while walking in your ways;
Let not the tempter my good ev'r efface!
The world is growing complex by the days;
'Tis hard to encounter the earthly maze!
My sins of past become my faulty base;
My strife on earth disturbs my divine gaze;
My trespasses become a thickened haze,
And serve to slacken my celestial pace.
I am a sinner, God in any case;
I need your forgiveness and immense grace.
poem by John Celes
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Portrait: Two Men
The two men
walk together like overgrown boys,
a jaunty humor jingling between them.
One of them dwarfs the other.
The smaller, compact man
carries a rolled up blueprint
under his arm.
The other is big and athletic.
Are they brothers?
The are like octaves of the same song,
point counterpoint, music
walking nonchalantly along.
As Equal
In life there is rich and poor,
whether they live
in mud huts or in mansions.
It does not matter which,
they are human beings
after all is said and done.
The respect we show to one
we must show to the other.
We are all equal under God’s eyes,
the rich and poor alike.
There are no barriers across his eyes
to exclude one from another.
He sees them as equal
and we should do the same.
1 June 2008
poem by David Harris
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Mixed Messages
Youre sending me mixed messages
Mixed messages that I can hardly work through
Where the heart lies
Which message is coming truly from you
When I get too close to you
I feel the fear, can almost hear it
Then you call me late at night saying can I be with you
I wanna be with you
Youre sending me mixed messages
Mixed messages that I can hardly work through
Where the heart lies
Which message is coming truly from you
You keep your thoughts to yourself
You keep me guessing while were undressing
Then youre gone for days on end and
Here we go again
Here we go again
Youre sending me mixed messages
Mixed messages that I can hardly work through
Where the heart lies
Which message is coming truly from you
It cant keep bouncing around like this
You cut me loose then pull me in for a kiss
If you know what you want
Why dont you tell me, clearly
Wonder why it bothers me
I wonder why I even wonder why
If I had another lover, well, would it get to you
Would I get through
This puzzle of mixed messages
Mixed messages, that I can hardly work through
Where the heart lies
Which message is coming truly from you
Youre sending me mixed messages
Mixed messages that I can hardly work through
Where the heart lies
Which message is coming truly from you
song performed by by Bangles
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In deed
Back in the door
She 'plonks' the 'messages'
on the kitchen table.
'Messages',
Now who coined that term?
Isn't it the 'shopping',
The 'groc-er-ies'.
The mind does a playback
To the days when 'messages'
Were handwritten notes
By your grandnother in Ireland
To get some milk,
Or some bread
Or something.
Indeed.
poem by Harriet James
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Words
He lets me listen, when he moves me,
Words are not like other words
He takes me, from under my arms
He plants me, in a distant cloud
And the black rain in my eyes
Falls in torrents, torrents
He carries me with him, he carries me
To an evening of perfumed balconies
And I am like a child in his hands
Like a feather carried by the wind
He carries for me seven moons in his hands
and a bundle of songs
He gives me sun, he gives me summer
and flocks of swallows
He tells me that I am his treasure
And that I am equal to thousands of stars
And that I am treasure, and that I am
more beautiful than he has seen of paintings
He tells me things that make me dizzy
that make me forget the dance and the steps
Words…which overturn my history
which make me a woman…in seconds
He builds castles of fantasies
which I live in…for seconds…
And I return…I return to my table
Nothing with me…
Nothing with me…except words
poem by Nizar Qabbani
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Him! ...Who? ...He!
Don't you get so obsessed,
To forget what's important to you.
Remember that.
And apply that message,
Where it applies.
'What is that suppose to mean?
What are you talking about? '
I don't know,
I just deliver them.
'Deliver what? '
Messages.
'Messages?
What kind of messages?
And from whom? '
You know?
Messages from Him.
'Him?
Him who? '
You know.
Him! ...Who? ...He!
'Hem Wu Hees?
That Chinese Restaurant? '
Naw, man!
Forget it.
Forget I said anything to you.
Have a good day.
'You tell them,
My liking General Tso chicken...
Is not for public announcement.
Deliver 'that' message.
And you stay out of my business.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Complex
She is complex,
Her smile and wink,
Changing a mind in a heartbeat,
A provocative smile clouds your sight,
Lust burning away your life,
Want, addiction, never stopping,
Never stopping until you find,
The complex woman,
The complex woman that haunts your thoughts,
She hides in the corner of your heart,
And creeps up when she's around
The complex woman's secrets never revealed,
In this vast world,
In this fog,
In this fog of mind,
The complex woman stands,
Waiting for a chance,
One.. More... Chance
poem by Nicholas Prince
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Like a harp in heaven
So beautiful
flow of a touch
reaches deeper
then any mountain
with the highest peak
subtle and Divine
is the connection
of our souls
So beautiful
I feel your energy swimming
in me, healing me
pumping love into my veins
when I touch you
my hands, my body
my heart, my soul
my mind
as I watch from within
all melts into you
in such completeness
and becomes invisible
So beautiful
I no longer feel me
I am your energy
one blue thread
maybe gold, maybe silver
how can I explain
can I find words to do so?
no, i don't think I can
simple or complex as they may be
those letters can't be expressed
So beautiful
take the whole alphabet
and make it into heaven
describe your presence there
can you?
I am going back to say;
should I even say
mine at this point
see, it is no longer mine nor yours
it just becomes ours
in trinity
we are
So beautiful
Home where hearts
beat in the rhythm
of the moment
and the heart, only one
was given to me and you
So beautiful
I don't have one heart
I carry two
yours and mine
every beat are notes of yours
that create me in new lyrics
in new music
not the music
my ears hear
but the music
the soul plays
like a harp in heaven
poem by Kasia Fedyk
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Respect It Deserves
Those who are fortunate,
To heed to those messages sent...
By listening or reading to comprehend,
What has been delivered and mentioned to them...
Has purpose and reason!
Those believing a manipulation succeeds,
Eventually spend their lives...
In some form of recovery.
In an 'IF' wished.
Either a reflection is done,
On a waste of time committed.
Or a chase to catch up,
To escape from the past...
Is foolishly admitted.
In an 'IF' wished.
However one comes to interpret,
These times we live...
It is certain,
There has been an issuing...
Of duties to be done,
Based upon an alignment...
Of Cosmic assignments.
Most of which have gone ignored.
Those who are fortunate,
To heed to those messages sent...
By listening or reading to comprehend,
What has been delivered and mentioned to them...
Has purpose and reason,
Beyond the limited depths of our understanding.
And...
As long as that becomes understood,
Those frustrations we face will be erased.
As long as this place we call Earth,
Begins to receive the respect it deserves.
We serve 'It'.
Much more than 'It' needs us to serve.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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