Sage
A great grey haired sage
Keeps him away from din
In the deep dark of the cave
All day long recites the holy hymn.
poem by Abdul Wahab
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Longing for Him
It was damp and dark
The mood was grey
Alone I was in the park
Reciting the holy hymn,
And passed the whole day
Longing for Him.
poem by Abdul Wahab
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No G. D. M.
Wanna be a great dark man,
Being but a lesbian.
You are perfect you are sheer,
If you are a red haired queer.
Thats life, one dice,
Cest la vie, ma cherie,
But it really doesnt matter.
No gdm, no great dark man
No gdm, no great dark man
There wont be a great dark man
If I am a red haired queer
You are perfect, you are sheer
If you are a red haired queer
Tel aviv, had a sniff,
Cest la vie, ma cherie,
But it really doesnt matter.
Yellow teeth between pink lips,
I like sher with a crazy lock
Perfume behind a lobe of ear,
Rouge on my face hides my beard.
Long violet finger nails,
I adore those magic tales,
I dont mind, I dont mind
Wanna be a great dark man,
Being but a lesbian.
You are perfect you are sheer,
If you are a rat tat queer.
Thats life, one dice,
Cest la vie, ma cherie,
Tel aviv, had a sniff,
song performed by by Erasure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Holy Hymn
HOLY HYMN
Men and women,
Let`s sing,
Holy hymn,
Men`s power,
Contentment, control,
Patience, pride,
Satisfaction, contentment,
Men and women,
Let`s sing,
Holy hymn
poem by Dr. Ram Sharma
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A Chord of Colour
My Lady clad herself in grey,
That caught and clung about her throat;
Then all the long grey winter day
On me a living splendour smote;
And why grey palmers holy are,
And why grey minsters great in story,
And grey skies ring the morning star,
And grey hairs are a crown of glory.
My Lady clad herself in green,
Like meadows where the wind-waves pass;
Then round my spirit spread, I ween,
A splendour of forgotten grass.
Then all that dropped of stem or sod,
Hoarded as emeralds might be,
I bowed to every bush, and trod
Amid the live grass fearfully.
My Lady clad herself in blue,
Then on me, like the seer long gone,
The likeness of a sapphire grew,
The throne of him that sat thereon.
Then knew I why the Fashioner
Splashed reckless blue on sky and sea;
And ere 'twas good enough for her,
He tried it on Eternity.
Beneath the gnarled old Knowledge-tree
Sat, like an owl, the evil sage:
'The World's a bubble,' solemnly
He read, and turned a second page.
'A bubble, then, old crow,' I cried,
'God keep you in your weary wit!
'A bubble--have you ever spied
'The colours I have seen on it?'
poem by G.K. Chesterton from The Wild Knight and Other Poems (1900)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Grey, Grey Sky
Someday I will ride the great bird
Into the sky, into the grey
And will take a bright secret of mine
Into the grey, grey sky.
And the light will come, piercing my eyes
Out of the sky, out of the grey
Come blinding and searing these eyes
Out of the grey, grey sky.
And I will find comfort in this
In the wide sky, in the wide grey
In the painful dark brightness of light
Light of the grey, grey sky.
My secret will fly away home
Into the sky, into the grey
And the great bird will follow it there
Into the grey, grey sky.
And I will be riding that bird
Bird of the sky, bird of the grey
And I will come home once again
Home to the grey, grey sky.
But for now I am weighted, earthbound
One of the mud, one of the ground
And I write this sad song to sad sound
Girl of the pavement sighs.
poem by Grace Hutton
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Long Haired Lady
Well, well, well, well, well,
Do you love me like you know you ought to do?
Well, well, well, well, well,
Or is this the only thing you want me for?
Well, Ive been meaning to talk to you about it for sometime,
Sweet little lass, you are my long haired lady.
Whos the lady that makes that brief occasional laughter?
Shes the lady we wears those flashing eyes.
Wholl be taking her ome when all the dancing is over?
Im the lucky man she will hypnotize.
Long haired lady. long haired lady.
Ah, love is long, love is long, love is long.
Ah, when youre wrong, love is long, love is long.
Well, well, well, well, well,
Do you love me like you know you ought to do?
Well, well, well, well, well,
Or is this the only thing you want me for?
Well, Ive been meaning to talk to you about it for sometime,
Sweet little lass, you are my long haired lady.
Bells are buzzing about my sweet delectable baby,
Birds are humming about their big surprise.
Whos your favorite person, dear phenomenal lady?
I belong to the girl with flashing eye.
Long haired lady. long haired lady.
Ah, sing your song, love is long, love is long.
Ah, love is long, love is long, love is long.
song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Malade
The sick grapes on the chair by the bed lie prone; at the window
The tassel of the blind swings gently, tapping the pane,
As a little wind comes in.
The room is the hollow rind of a fruit, a gourd
Scooped out and dry, where a spider,
Folded in its legs as in a bed,
Lies on the dust, watching where is nothing to see but twilight and walls.
And if the day outside were mine! What is the day
But a grey cave, with great grey spider-cloths hanging
Low from the roof, and the wet dust falling softly from them
Over the wet dark rocks, the houses, and over
The spiders with white faces, that scuttle on the floor of the cave!
I am choking with creeping, grey confinedness.
But somewhere birds, beside a lake of light, spread wings
Larger than the largest fans, and rise in a stream upwards
And upwards on the sunlight that rains invisible,
So that the birds are like one wafted feather,
Small and ecstatic suspended over a vast spread country.
poem by David Herbert Lawrence
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The Great Grey Water
Now two have met, now two have met,
Who may not meet again—
Two grains of sand, two blades of grass,
Two threads within the skein—
Beside the Great Grey Water.
Two hands to touch, two hearts to touch;
And, here forgathered, we
Will not forget, may not forget,
Where last forgathered three—
Beyond the Great Grey Water.
Two glasses filled, two pipes to fill—
‘To all our fortunes, brother!’
And as they clink—like so—we drink
Fair passage to the other
Across the Great Grey Water.
For three have sailed, and one has sailed,
His sins, like ours, still on him,
God sleep his soul! five oceans roll
Their long weight all upon him.
O God! thy Great Grey Water!
But I am still, and you are still,
And here our chance has flung us;
True comrades we, but…there were three
And one is not among us
Beside the Great Grey Water.
A breathing space, a biding place,
Soft lights and beakers beaded,
Then out again and on again,
Unminded and unheeded,
Across the Great Grey Water.
Now two have met where three have met
With curses or with laughter;
And so our Day shall pass away,
And so our Night come after—
But, ah! the Great Grey Water
poem by Edwin James Brady
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Everything Is Grey.
I’m lonely today
In my hometown.
I walk around,
Sad and lost
And as invisible
As the breeze.
No one recognizes me
Or says hello,
I think someone
Stumbled over me
The way you might
A sleeping drunk
In a godforsaken slum.
I wish I could take
My vague self
To some exotic Asian city
And gaze at a dark-haired girl
In a long black dress.
This is a time
To dispense with sunglasses:
Everything is grey.
poem by Uriah Hamilton
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Paradise
Deep inside
I carry paradise,
a bright flood,
pours through
my soul’s veins,
but like those blind fish,
I cannot see
the holy river
running through
my radiant cave.
On a good, clear day, though,
staring hard beyond me,
I can almost see
God’s holy fire
glancing off
my boundless sea
poem by Steven Federle
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Time And How To Spend It
LONG AGO AND FAR AWAY ON THE OTHER SIDE OF SPACE
THERE WAS NO CLOCK, THERE WAS NO TIME, NOR ANY MAN TO COUNT IT
THEN FROM THE VOID, DARK REACH OF SPACE, A WONDROUS GLOBE APPEARED
BUT STILL NO CLOCK, STILL NO TIME, AND STILL NO MAN TO COUNT IT
AND THEN FROM GOD, EARTH AND CLAY, CAME MAN AND TIME-BOTH FLEETING
THEN DAY AND NIGHT, DARK AND LIGHT, DIVIDED BY SUN'S GREETING AND CAME THE NEED TO KEEP THE TIME, OF WHICH THERE SEEMS NO ENDING
AND SOME GREAT SAGE WITH DOUR WORD IS NOW A MESSAGE SENDING
HASTEN QUICKLY, LOSE NO TIME, THE END OF TIME IS PENDING
NOW YESTERDAYS ARE LONG AGO AND TOMORROW MAY NOT COME
SO TAKE EACH MOMENT AS A GIFT-FROM SUN TO SETTING SUN
BUT WASTE NO TIME WITH HURTFUL THOUGHTS SPEND NO TIME DESTRUCTIVE
FOR TIME YOU SEE IS A PRECIOUS THING, SO SPEND YOUR TIME CONSTRUCTIVE. THOUGH I'M NO SAGE NOR LETTERED MAN, ONE THING I KNOW FOR CERTAIN
IT'S BEST TO SPEND TIME DAY BY DAY---UNTIL THAT FINAL CURTAIN!
poem by Lyken L. Warren
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The Secret Of The Grail
What was magi mystery;
of mesmeric long-haired kings?
What was the mystery of the long-haired kings?
A secret the Cathars knew.
The Knights Templar their military arm,
did guard this secret well.
On pain of rack, through branding iron
And cruel thumb-screw,
they gritted teeth and suffered hell -
still none would tell.
The word San-Greal means Holy Grail
Sang-Real means of the blood.
A royal bloodline from the son -
heirs of a spirit pure and just.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Here I Come-4
Holy holy is He
So merciful
Lion and King
Wonderful Counselor
Holy holy
Holy holy is He
Holy holy is He
Forever holy.
Most High God
Holy holy
Prince of Peace
Mighty Redeemer
King of Kings
Most High God
Holy holy
Holy holy is He
Holy holy is He
Forever holy.
Take my sins
As far as the east
Is from the west
Purge me
With your precious blood
Shelter me
From the storms
Cover me
With your glory
Holy holy
Holy holy is He
Holy holy is He
Forever holy.
You are so holy
You went to the cross
For me
So holy
You bled for me
So holy
You paid a price
I could not pay
Holy holy
Holy holy is He
Holy holy is He
Forever holy.
poem by Buxton Shippy
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I guess of all my uncles, I liked Uncle Cave Man the best. We called him Uncle Cave Man because he lived in a cave and because sometimes he'd eat one of us. Later on we found out he was a bear.
Jack Handey in Deep Thoughts
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Hermit Thrush
O wonderful! How liquid clear
The molten gold of that ethereal tone,
Floating and falling through the wood alone,
A hermit-hymn poured out for God to hear!
0 holy, holy, holy! Hyaline,
Long light, low light, glory of eventide!
Love far away, far up. -- up, -- love divine!
Little love, too, for ever, ever, near,
Warm love, earth love, tender love of mine,
In the leafy dark where you hide,
You are mine, -- mine, -- mine!
Ah, my belovèd, do you feel with me
The hidden virtue of that melody,
The rapture and the purity of love,
The heavenly joy that can not find the word?
Then, while we wait again to hear the bird,
Come very near to me, and do not move, --
Now, hermit of the woodland, fill anew
The cool, green cup of air with harmony,
And we will drink the wine of love with you.
poem by Henry Van Dyke
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There was a long spell of silence, big, aching, void, and then from the Professor a keen "S-s-s-s!" He pointed, and far down the avenue of yews we saw a white figure advance, a dim white figure, which held something dark at its breast. The figure stopped, and at the moment a ray of moonlight fell upon the masses of driving clouds, and showed in startling prominence a dark-haired woman, dressed in the cerements of the grave. We could not see the face, for it was bent down over what we saw to be a fair-haired child. There was a pause and a sharp little cry, such as a child gives in sleep, or a dog as it lies before the fire and dreams.
Bram Stoker in Dracula (1897)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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A distant universe
dark as cave
we walk inside
yet is outside
there is a man
spiritual they say
filling the cave with
his chants
you walk the
lighted lane
they call common
sense
the darkness
holds over you
like a distant
universe, a
boundless part
you fear to tread
it exists like the
unreachable stars
so far away you never
even give it a thought
day after day
we walk the lane
a corner of the great cave
waiting for the man
to come out to light things up
with his halo and
enlightenment
there is a
distant universe
in the space of our brain
we all fear to tread
we walk inside
yet are all outside
a physique that helps
map every step we take
this cave that is all God
inside and outside
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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On the Raising of the Mary Rose
'Long since I sailed me
I and ‘Great Harry’
Pride of the ragged fleet
When we were merrie,
Heel at the wind, my tars,
Gunports at ready.'
'There sat the Frenchman
Here, our great ships,
Hard on the helm we are
As the port dips,
Long cries of ‘Mary Rose’
Die on their lips.'
'Deep-dredged these centuries
Now wedged on high
Stark, as my timbers
Wide-arc the sky;
Where now ‘Great Harry’,
Where does he lie? '
'Torn from my bitter-rest
Borne to your day,
Wide-eyed and wild is my
Sad disarray;
Tell my ‘Great Harry’ now –
Your world is grey.'
14 October 1982
poem by David Lewis Paget
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Grey
Grey road stretched through grey rain.
Grey rain fell though grey mist.
Grey mist enveloped all,
all the eye could see,
all the land,
all the sky
and me.
Grey covered all,
all the way down to the sea.
Glimpsed through grey the swell of the ocean,
riding the waves a wind surfer surfing,
chopping, fighting the crests with swift motion
skirting the spray, sail unfurling.
Stopping, I stared at that sight in the mist,
oh how he came dancing over the sea,
right through the rain a state of sheer bliss,
the wondrous frolic rippling throughout me
making me tingle right down deep inside.
That misty image ripped all grey apart
a glorious vision of freedom untied,
returning tremendous joy to my heart
filling me up, bringing tears to my eyes,
emerging from grey a great love of life.
poem by Diana Rosser
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When You Peel the Moon
Turgid freedom of nondescript
energy moves on the
secret circuits of nude gods.
Thy body politic breaks into splinters of million thoughts.
When the dusty winds
settle on our faces, it is a holy bath.
The neutral sky perceives it,
lapses into silence.
Poor vision of builders,
carries an abstract frame for the silver screen.
We peer in dark
to find the blasts,
culture of giant legs was the essence of truth
descends deep in crevices.
The technique brings the broken images.
In your mind lies the whole history of a tree.
You don’t remember.
When you peel the moon,
your tongue falters.
Of several centuries
the grief stricken bird recites a poem.
Come beside me,
I will tell you the name.
poem by Satish Verma
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