The sediments of the past are many miles in collective thickness: yet the feeble silt of the rivers built them all from base to summit.
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The summit
My preconceived thoughts have no limit,
My perceptions have my heart ignite,
My path your eyes have given light,
My hope dont have power nor might,
Should I put aside weapons or fight,
There we are at the summit
We searched in the places of lovers,
We found all the lovers things along,
So many different pictures we painted,
So many different paintings we pictured,
We had to make vital choices,
Look at us, standing upon the summit
Look at us my beautiful lover,
Beyond the imagination of all our thoughts,
We sailed past the deepest seas,
The water so bluest yet us so purest,
The trip was always long my love,
All the same, we at the summit now
Some built houses, we built a home,
The clouds are closer my love,
Lets not step down this mountain,
Its me and you forever more,
Me and you upon the summit
poem by Gaylord Munemo
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Sediments of life
Fresh and so curious
With purity and innocence,
What lies ahead, eager to know
As a stream we start to flow
Along this course down a hill
So many brooks of hope and vision
….of strength, dream and will
Conjoin as big river
Step ahead and flow further
In the course of life
This river is just young
Wild is its imagination
So strong, its ambition
Upwelling of its emotions
To secure a future, identity to define
Push the flow to rapids, down the valley to fly
The river of youth, went in speedy currents
On its way carried what was there on the earth
Down a deep gorge
As the water swiftly surge
Its strength at climax
Churn the drift to cataracts
In misty foam or a rainbow’s arc
The river leaves a benchmark
We as rivers, flow in currents
Posing on achievement and failure
Unfaltering and calm is the mid course river
Wide is its bank, serene its journey
As it steadily flows for legacy
On trails of time clays to imprint
To pass on layers of silt,
To witness its once existence,
It residues on the track of life
We as rivers, flow in currents
The long trip from its head
Through its voyage to recollect
At the last course, in the sunset
The river ponders on its sediment
At the mouth awaits the sea
As an outlet to infinity
And mistakes learned, toiled effort
Life of success, well travelled path
Enough sediments, brings about
Fertile ground to cultivate
A platform to reflect
Delta of life before the sea
Leaves the river to eternity…
Sediments of life to pile up
At the end since the start
Determined to move, if hope ever fails
The river ends without a trace
Through sieve of life, having no sift
The salty water the river meets
Rivers we are, to sediment in time
Flow in currents, life to define.
poem by Fasika Ayalew
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Fragments - Lines 0183 - 0192
Among rams and asses and horses, Kyrnos, we look for those
Of noble breeding, and a man wants them to mate
From worthy stock. Yet a noble man does not mind marrying
A base woman of base birth if she brings him money in abundance,
Nor does a woman shrink from becoming the wife of a base man
With wealth; she prefers a rich husband to a worthy one.
Money is what they honor; the noble weds a base man's daughter,
The base a worthy man's: wealth mixes stock.
Thus do not be amazed, son of Polypaos, that the citizen's stock
Is growing feeble, for what is noble is being mixed with what is base.
To be seventy years old is like climbing the Alps. You reach a snow-crowned summit, and see behind you the deep valley stretching miles and miles away, and before you other summits higher and whiter, which you may have strength to climb, or may not. Then you sit down and meditate and wonder which it will be.
quote by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Negro Speaks of Rivers
I've known rivers:
I've known rivers ancient as the world and older than the
flow of human blood in human veins
My soul has grown deep like the rivers.
I bathed in the Euphrates when dawns were young
I built my hut near the Congo and it lulled me to sleep.
I looked upon the Nile and raised the pyramids above it.
I heard the singing of the Mississippi when Abe Lincoln
went down to New Orleans, and I've seen its muddy
bosom turn all golden in the sunset
I've known rivers:
Ancient, dusky rivers.
My soul has grown deep like the rivers.
poem by Langston Hughes
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The Negro Speaks Of Rivers
I've known rivers:
I've known rivers ancient as the world and older than the
flow of human blood in human veins.
My soul has grown deep like the rivers.
I bathed in the Euphrates when dawns were young.
I built my hut near the Congo and it lulled me to sleep.
I looked upon the Nile and raised the pyramids above it.
I heard the singing of the Mississippi when Abe Lincoln
went down to New Orleans, and I've seen its muddy
bosom turn all golden in the sunset.
I've known rivers:
Ancient, dusky rivers.
My soul has grown deep like the rivers.
poem by Langston Hughes
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The press should be not only a collective propagandist and a collective agitator, but also a collective organizer of the masses.
quote by Vladimir Lenin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ballad for the Forgotten Workers
down by the river, down on the street,
past the empty factory buildings,
smokestacks that no longer smoke.
past the run down tenements,
past the vacant store fronts.
to fires that dont burn, and...
...engines that dont stroke.
down the road, leaving the city behind,
there's miles and miles of fields,
stone silent and turning brown.
tractors rusting in the sun,
a bucket by the well...
old house lies empty, falling down.
the sea of hands lost forever;
red and white, brown, and black.
headstones in the parking lots,
but they're never coming back.
built your cities, built your country,
plowed your fields, fed your hungry.
thrown away in your quest for power...
but their names mark the hours!
(steel workers, no more steel!
teachers, no more books!
farmers in the food lines,
no carpenters, no cooks.
cotton mills moved to Asia,
we cant even make tables and chairs.
no time clocks and no paychecks, ...
... nobody really cares!)
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Survival By Choice
i guess survival
is a choice too
insider trade off
planned elite survival
has been prepared
for new world order
even back in 1945
Berlin had massive
underground shelters
underground cities
built for survival
started big time late
1940s d.u.m.b
deep underground
military base
technology for survival
cities started big time
during cold war classified
period 3.5 miles deep enough
to survive oncoming polar shift
continental plate movement
dumb built
three to four
miles deep
preparation selected
elite human race
will new world survive
while elite
underground
slum it
i hope
to bask
in glory
of heaven
tour suburbs
paradise
poem by Terence George Craddock
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I Can See For Miles
I know youve deceived me, now heres a surprise
I know that you have cause theres magic in my eyes
I can see for miles and miles and miles and miles and miles
Oh yeah
If you think that I dont know about the little tricks youve played
And never see you when deliberately you put things in my way
Well, heres a poke at you
Youre gonna choke on it too
Youre gonna lose that smile
Beacuse all the while
I can see for miles and miles
I can see for miles and miles
I can see for miles and miles and miles and miles and miles
Oh yeah
You took advantage of my trust in you when I was so far away
I saw you holding lots of other guys and now youve got the nerve to say
That you still want me
Well, thats as may be
But you gotta stand trial
Because all the while
I can see for miles and miles
I can see for miles and miles
I can see for miles and miles and miles and miles and miles
Oh yeah
I know youve deceived me, now heres a surprise
I know that you have cause theres magic in my eyes
I can see for miles and miles and miles and miles and miles
Oh yeah
The eiffel tower and the taj mahal are mine to see on clear days
You thought that I would need a crystal ball to see right through the haze
Well, heres a poke at you
Youre gonna choke on it too
Youre gonna lose that smile
Beacuse all the while
I can see for miles and miles
I can see for miles and miles
I can see for miles and miles and miles and miles and miles
And miles and miles and miles and miles
I can see for miles and miles
I can see for miles and miles
I can see for miles and miles
I can see for miles and miles
song performed by by Who
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Venice
White swan of cities, slumbering in thy nest
So wonderfully built among the reeds
Of the lagoon, that fences thee and feeds,
As sayeth thy old historian and thy guest!
White water-lily, cradled and caressed
By ocean streams, and from the silt and weeds
Lifting thy golden filaments and seeds,
Thy sun-illumined spires, thy crown and crest!
White phantom city, whose untrodden streets
Are rivers, and whose pavements are the shifting
Shadows of palaces and strips of sky;
I wait to see thee vanish like the fleets
Seen in mirage, or towers of cloud uplifting
In air their unsubstantial masonry.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Mountain Peak
We came together on the highest mountain on this earth.
As years went by we separated into rivers
from the tears this mountain cried.
We all fell into different rivers flowing though
forests, rocks, and waterfalls.
No matter what season we came across
we continued flowing.
We are rivers that started in the mountains,
and rivers that separated as we went through
many waterfalls.
Sometimes we travel together,
and other times we travel alone.
Always remember that these same rivers
that travel many miles through the earth
are once again together when it reaches its final destination
the “Ocean”
So, rivers that started up high in the mountains
and then separated are united
again as a family.
poem by Felix Lugo
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Million Miles Away
Friday night, Id just got back
I had my eyes shut, was dreaming about the past
I thought about you while the radio played
Should have got loaded but for some reason I stayed
I started drifting to a different place
I realized I was falling off the face of the world
And there was nothing there to bring us back
cause youre a million miles away
A million miles away
And theres nothing there to bring us back today
Todayoh no
I took a ride and I went downtown
The streets were empty, there was no one around
I went to places that we used to go
Seen all the places that we used to know
Im at the wrong end of the looking glass
Im trying to hold on to the hands of the past and you
And theres nothing there to bring us back
cause youre a million miles away
A million miles away
And theres nothing there to bring us back today
Todayoh no
cause youre million miles away
A million miles away
Just a million miles away
A million miles away
And theres nothing there to bring us back today
Todayayayoh no
song performed by by Goo Goo Dolls
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Reading poetry on the Web
i wade through rivers
of diamonds, rubies,
plain rocks and stones
that criss cross the world
picking up gems
poetry on the web
i wade through rivers
to get to international souls
sacred rivers of all kinds
ganges, indus, nile, mekong
chao phraya
filled with stones
heads of all kinds,
round, flat, sharp,
black, white, green,
brown, yellow, big and small,
sand, silt, gravel,
between them when lucky
precious gems turn up to greet me
fishes help spread the magic
liven up nooks and corners
some sprint, some plain swim
among these, the best rivers
are crystal clear,
a dazzling picture of sky, heaven
taking the breath of god
as they whisper a poetic tale
immediately marked in gold by the morning sun
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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At the beginning of the nineteenth century we abandoned tradition, it's at that point that I intend to renew it because the present is built on the past just as the past was built on the times that went before it.
quote by Adolf Loos
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Stations were built at intervals averaging fifteen miles apart. A rider's route covered three stations, with an exchange of horses at each, so that he was expected at the beginning to cover close to forty-five miles - a good ride when one must average fifteen miles an hour.
quote by Buffalo Bill
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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With every step we take
Twenty miles, then twenty miles,
then twenty miles again.
We’ll keep on walking, day by day,
towards breast cancer’s end.
With every step, with every stair,
We train to walk this path
To raise the funds to fight the beast
And consign it to the past..
It will be hot, It may be wet
As we traverse the miles
and when we rest, beneath the stars,
We’ll sleep like stones awhile
With every step, with every mile
We’re walking towards a cure
And we would walk a thousand miles
To end its’ reign for sure..
If not in time for one we loved
Perhaps in time for others-
So many suffer scars or worse
where death’s dark angel hovers.
Twenty miles, then twenty miles,
then twenty miles again.
We’ll keep on walking, day by day,
towards breast cancer’s end.
poem by John F. McCullagh
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How Much Further
How much more
How much further
To find sediments of joy
tears of compassion
How long shall mine roll
Before i grasp console
So my soul too my know
I am closer than ever before
Is it as long as my mind grinds
The vacuum in my soul damns with cries
How much more must i gather
and recollect
A sea of determination
An ocean of frustration
How closer am i to the fountains of sympathy
Plains of harmony
Mountains amicable
Rivers empathic
poem by Wes Mbanje
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This Month Messiah
I'm just a pilgrim here looking for holy ground
I'm just a body lost but my soul can be found
How many miles to go
How many miles to babylon
I don't know where to turn when answers all fade clear
But I must find a place there's only questions here
How many miles to go
How many miles to babylon
How many miles to go
How many miles to babylon
I feel...feel like I'm on trial
Who made a judge of you
Are you this month's messiah
I am a fightin' man tired of living under the gun
But am I looking for love or am I looking to run
How many miles to go
How many miles to babylon
How many miles to go
How many miles to babylon
I heard...I heard it on the wire
That it's all up to you
Are you this month's messiah
How many miles to go
How many miles to babylon
song performed by by Nazareth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Peverty of The Masses
i have already stopped wondering
why the rivers always leave the forest
proceeding to the sea
emptying all its contents
as the sea bloats itself with all the silt
salt and brownish water
it will always be
and you know that fully well
the sea is, and will always be rich
and yet
it is giving nothing back
to the river to the forest
to the village on top
of the mountain
the people there only dream of fish
and boats
what they eat are their own bare hands
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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