
Athor and Asar
[Dedicated to Frank Harris, editor of Vanity Fair]
On the black night, beneath the winter moon,
I clothed me in the limbs of Codia,
Swooning my soul out into her red throat,
So that the glimmer of our skins, the tune
Og our ripe rythm, seemed the hideous play
Of death-worms crawling on a corpse,afloat
With life that takes its thirst
Only from things accurst.
Closer than Clodia's clasp, Death had me down
To his black heart, and fed upon my breath,
So that we seemed a stilness -whiter than
The stars, more silent than the stars, a crown
Of Stars ! For in the icy kiss of death
I found that God that is denied to man
So long as love and thought
And life avail him aught.
poem by Aleister Crowley

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Bow Before My Death
I lie beneath the flame this night,
I bow before my death,
He takes my hand,
And holds me close,
Death embraces me,
He says the time has come,
Beginning now meets end,
He says the fires taken me,
And now it's time to walk,
Walk the path of fates sweet song.
I lie beneath the flame this night,
I bow before my death,
The fires stripped me of my sins,
Humility my pride,
Now death guides me through the dark,
And speaks to me kind words,
'The pain has stopped,
It won't come back,
Your senses now are cleansed,
The soul has been washed clean',
He says the end is pleasure.
I lie beneath the flame this night,
I bow before my death,
Death's a man clothed in blue jeans,
A white shirt stained with blood,
Death holds a knife,
Death slits my throat,
Death is the end of my beginning.
I lie beneath the flame this night.
I bow before my death.
poem by Holly Heron

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Lonely In Your Nightmare
Even on the darkest night when empty promise means empty hand
And soldiers coming home like shadows turning red
When the lights of hope are fading quickly then look to me
Ill be your homing angel,Ill be in your head.
Because youre lonely in your nightmare let me in...
And theres heat beneath your winter let me in...
I see the delta traces living lonely out on the limb.
And a passing glimmer warm beneath your skin
Please tread gently on the ground when all around you earth
Turns to fire
Only get a second chance when dangers on the wind.
Because youre lonely in your nightmare let me in...
Because theres heat beneath your winter let me in...
-
Must be lucky weather when you find the kind of wind that you need
Cmon show me all the light and shade that made your name
I know youve got it in your head, Ive seen that look before
Youve built your refuge turns you captive all the same
Because youre lonely in your nightmare let me in...
And its barren in your garden let me in...
Because theres heat beneath your winter let me in..
Because youre so lonely in your nightmare let me in..
And its cold out on your stone range let me in...
Because theres heat beneath your winter let me in...
Do, do-do, do do do do
Do, do-do, do do do do
song performed by by Duran Duran

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Which editor? I can't think of one editor I worked with as an editor. The various companies did have editors but we always acted as our own editor, so the question has no answer.
The Winter Lakes
Out in a world of death far to the northward lying,
Under the sun and the moon, under the dusk and the day;
Under the glimmer of stars and the purple of sunsets dying,
Wan and waste and white, stretch the great lakes away.
Never a bud of spring, never a laugh of summer,
Never a dream of love, never a song of bird;
But only the silence and white, the shores that grow chiller and dumber,
Wherever the ice winds sob, and the griefs of winter are heard.
Crags that are black and wet out of the grey lake looming,
Under the sunset's flush and the pallid, faint glimmer of dawn;
Shadowy, ghost-like shores, where midnight surfs are booming
Thunders of wintry woe over the spaces wan.
Lands that loom like spectres, whited regions of winter,
Wastes of desolate woods, deserts of water and shore;
A world of winter and death, within these regions who enter,
Lost to summer and life, go to return no more.
Moons that glimmer above, waters that lie white under,
Miles and miles of lake far out under the night;
Foaming crests of waves, surfs that shoreward thunder,
Shadowy shapes that flee, haunting the spaces white.
Lonely hidden bays, moon-lit, ice-rimmed, winding,
Fringed by forests and crags, haunted by shadowy shores;
Hushed from the outward strife, where the mighty surf is grinding
Death and hate on the rocks, as sandward and landward it roars.
poem by William Wilfred Campbell

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I Sit Beneath This Tree
I sit beneath this tree,
Bared beneath the moon,
I'm touched by it's coolness,
I'm loved by it's light,
I sit beneath the tree,
The world can see my scars,
The hollow where my heart layed,
And where my soul escaped,
Then in my hand the dagger,
In your hands my heart,
As it quickly slows,
The necklace round my throat,
Slowly drips down my chest,
I sit beneath this tree,
As you hold onto my hand,
My soul it tries to fly,
With wongs broken from guilt,
I sit upon the earth,
As you hold my hands and plea,
Plea for my forgiveness,
Before the darkness takes control,
Plea for my love,
Before I journey to my grave,
I sit beneath this tree,
As you pain my death,
With your guilt and no forgiveness,
I sit beneath this tree,
As my soul it walks away,
Towards loved gates of Hell.
poem by Holly Heron

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The starry three sisters
The starry three sisters
are rising overhead
and the hot day
is dead.
The winter night chills
and spreads ripe,
over grass and plants.
There’s a playful
charm to the icy wind,
that stir some fallen leaves.
Your smile
has its own warmth
and the taste of your lips,
are sweet and soft.
Your eyes has a glimmer
that sparks to the soul
and where love burns,
no winter can chill.
poem by Gert Strydom

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The Night Will Soon Be Lost
THE NIGHT WILL SOON BE LOST
The night will soon be lost
Another night of so many already gone
Who knows how many left?
I have seen far more nights
Than I will ever see again
Mostly it’s done
I have some nights left
But not so many
That I should waste it wholly
On frivolity
I’ll try now
To write a poem down
So this night
Will not have been wholly in vain
But who knows
Vanity of vanity of vanity
Perhaps for all nights and all poems- vanity
I am writing this poem down nonetheless
It flows as if it knows it has real life within it
I don’t know now how long this night will last
Or how many nights I have left
I have written a poem
Will G-d save it as if it were not vanity to vanity?
I do not know.
poem by Shalom Freedman

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The Winter Moon
Its the sweet sultry taste of winter on my lips,
the shadow of the pale moonlight on my eyes,
and behind the thin drapes of midnight clouds,
amidst the stars shining bright and clear,
smiles the radiance of the winter moon.
If I had seen heaven,
I would admit I had seen it,
hiding shyly behind the curtains of the night,
the winter moon at zenith, smiles down at me.
Its this breeze blowing gently,
mixing the scent of the winter with the moon,
and I stay awake,
my heart filled to the brim with love,
appreciating the splendour of the winter moon!
poem by Amatulla Mohammadi

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On Moonlit Night
Beneath a rather sensuous moon
They made a trail through the snow
Through the woods
That creaked from cold
On that Winter's night
She took the lead
Through feathery snow
That seemed the angels had spilled below
He followed swiftly, keeping pace
They stopped
They held a warm embrace
Upon this winter night
When all seemed calm
When all seemd bright
But most of all
It just seemed right
They trampled snow underneath
He made a bed
Wondering all the time
Could this be done...
On such a cold, cold night?
She offered wineskin sips
To him to warm his soul
And then she kissed him
Long, and deeply...melting snow
They gathered branches and pinecones
They struck a spark
And made a glow
They kindled that which they had known
On moonlit night
In bed of snow.
poem by Dee Daffodil

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But for me, being an editor I've been an editor of all kinds of books being an editor of poetry has been the way in which I could give a crucial part of my time to what I love most.
quote by Peter Davison

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Winter Pendant
The Winter Pendant
Silver lining that shines in light,
(an attribute to her delight)
which rims a figure of the night,
this alluring Winter Pendant.
Forged with essence of the stars,
delivered by the war-god Mars.
It mirrors distant, dying pulsars,
this mysterious Winter Pendant.
Mars delivers this before,
the moon who, quite frankly, adores,
this change within the god of war,
by this elegant Winter Pendant.
But she is still only a mortal.
She can't traverse beyond the portal,
while he can since he is immortal.
So, she'll keep this Winter Pendant.
The flaw is that she'll eventually die.
Her corpse will rot and blood run dry.
This fact could make the war god cry,
but what of the Winter Pendant.
This item's more than just a charm.
It's magic will not bring her harm,
but may come to be alarmed,
for she'll be the Winter Pendant!
Her soul is sucked into the stone,
to travel with Ares back to his throne.
An act the moon did not condone!
His love was the Winter Pendant
Now a jewel forever more,
so says the mythological lore.
The priceless gem for the God of War,
the living Winter Pendant.
poem by Wesley Mincin

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The New Moon
What have you got in your knapsack fair,
White moon, bright moon, pearling the air,
Spinning your bobbins and fabrics free,
Fleet moon, sweet moon, in to the sea?
Turquoise and beryl and rings of gold,
Clear moon, dear moon, ne’er to be sold?
Roses and lilies, romance and love,
Still moon, chill moon, swinging above?
Slender your feet as a white birds throat,
High moon, shy moon, drifting your boat
Into the murk of the world awhile,
Slim moon, dim moon, adding a smile.
Tender your eyes as a maiden’s kiss,
Fine moon, wine moon, no one knows this,
Under the spell of your witchery,
Dream moon, cream moon, first he kissed me.
poem by Zora Bernice May Cross

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Silver Frosty Leaves (from Minutes of Falling Days)
Sweet love of dreams and morning's blossoms white
That from twilight comes in to its bloom
With some spear of gleams from bluish starry night
Conquer of the winter in gray and gloom
Life's glimmer and silver frosty leaves
Show their ways when darkness again comes
Each their dream and longings that retrieves
When tone down in palpable deep winter hums
The morning of shadowed silvery moon
Ice on the river in mirroring hold
Yesterday’s retention - in memory
Flowers of winter in their midnight noon
Hallucinations of chill that now fold
Like decorations on every tree
poem by Peter S. Quinn

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You should never rely on interviews with musicians as being factual. Most of them are mangled and even have made up stuff in them, that is to say, made up stuff by the writer or editor.
quote by Frank Black

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Winter’s Morn
Feeling the sting of winter’s whip
and the taste of salt in my throat,
I walk the desolate beach
with only the cry of gulls
for my only company.
Winter strikes no harmony
with its bleak frown
as my eyes revel
at only wind swept litter
from happier sunny days.
The grey has replaced the bright;
warmth has relinquished to shiver
as I walk along alone
on this a winter’s morn.
12 February 2011
poem by David Harris

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Fragment
Moon of leaves,
Moon of the falling leaves,
To you I bring the slippers
of the sun.
That you may dance upon the
floor of sun,
My lady carries sun within her eyes.
Moon of the Unrevealed,
Moon of the gold-encrusted shield,
To you I bring the fragment
of my prayer.
Moon of the crinkled hair,
Tell me, will my lady yield
Eyes and mouth and breasts unsealed?
Will my lady yield?
Moon of the yellow streaked with red,
Moon that the sun would lead to bed,
Moon with the death's head
More than dead,
Why do you frighten the Goddess of Love,
Whose frail white fingers are moving above
The lover's white body lost in his love?
Moon, you are more than dead.
Moon of the ermine loist in the snow,
Moon of the frozen furbelow,
Moon of the nothingness here below,
Moon, you must go.
It is the Sun that tells you so-
Moon, you must go.
And I was dark beneath the moon,
And you were dark beneath the moon,
And we were dark beneath the moon.
Now I am gold beneath the sun,
Now you are gold beneath the sun,
Now we are gold beneath the Sun.
poem by Harry Crosby

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Tanya
Cold and dreary, dark and alone
Wind wailing thru the icy night
Dragging on and on
So reluctant to leave
Mad and angry to be forced to go
One last storm, one last night
Winter steals her away
Winter likes to go alone
Goodbye winter
Now all seems calm
But it's just the silence of the ones
Left struggling in your wake
Trying to put to rest
Winter
And carry her memory through spring
Goodbye
Winter
Your price was too high.
Winter night and the three little men
Winter Night and The Three Little Men.
The Fire burns bright,
While the woods turn to night.
The cold creeps in with sudden quickness
and trees set in sudden ice.
It is, suffice to say, that this is a cold Winter night.
The fire that night kept warm the three little Men
and cast a light that stayed the predators of that cold winter night.
The cold crept and the Wolves howled but all tried in vain
for the fire kept the three little men safe,
but men are lazy and some call them crazy.
All the same because that winter night was to
be the last for the little three men.
The three little men eyes drooped and finely closed
but the poor men forgot to tend the fire.
The fire went out with a flicker then a splutter
and Winter night crept in;
There was one witness that cold Winter night, the Moon.
Try as she could her brightness could not save the poor
little three Men, that cold Winter night.
Josiah, Lozier
poem by Josiah Lozier

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Between the Now and Then
Upon horizon, night to day ~
there between the now and then,
I often pause along the way,
to tiptoe through the moonlit glen ~
or perhaps take in sun's light,
night to day ~ day to night.
Upon horizon, day to day ~
there between the then and now,
as seasons grow along the way,
to crease the face of timely brow ~
or perhaps steal time away,
day to day ~ day to day.
Upon horizon, day to night ~
there between the now and then,
I stand beneath my autumn light,
bereft as memory calls again ~
to pain the heart with bygone sight,
Night to day ~ day to night.
Upon horizon, night to night ~
there between the then and now,
I know that winter casts its sight,
on one last leaf that will not bow ~
to frost within its golden sight,
night to night ~ night to night.
Upon horizon, night to day ~
there between the now and then,
I know my spring will fade away,
and summer's soft remember when
will echo gently autumn's way ~
day to night ~ night to day....
Winter's near ~ Winter's near......
poem by Hazelmarie Elliott

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Oriental selection
Bare winter branches
beneath the moon wreathed in mist.
Seem to bloom again.
Echoes of memories foresee
future in the past.
In the soft moonlight
blossoms from the cherry tree
Scattered on the ground.
purpose served, hey leave the stage
Autumn will grant them honour.
Sharp edged shadows cast
by the brilliant winter moon
on the earth below.
Poetry written on the snow
only lovers understand
The wind stirs the reeds
making music by moonlight.
Plaintive melodies
the wind needs no audience.
the moon listens silently.
The moon my lantern
the scent of blossom lingers
The moon lights my way
I walk beside the water
yesterday is gone.
Sun sets, moon rises
constant repetition
She follows her lord
Night without moonlight
restless spirits walk abroad
seeking solace.
Moonlight soothes my soul
as I meditate alone.
Trees whisper to me.
A pond holds the moon
why should the mind of man do less
achieving stillness
Gently moonlight falls
like silver rain silently
lotus blossom sing.
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg

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