Adair Welcker, Poet
The Swan of Avon died-the Swan
Of Sacramento'll soon be gone;
And when his death-song he shall coo,
Stand back, or it will kill you too.
poem by Ambrose Bierce
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A Swan Song(dying sentence)
Remember me, remember my swan song,
I can't re-orient myself,
I can't live it all over again,
I can't re-orient myself,
I can't live that stain of my plastered smile again,
Let this be the last moment,
Let me say the last good-bye,
It won't count anything now,
So let me lay in silence,
Life has treated me well and I have had enough of it,
Lets end this game,
Enough of milling in and out,
Hear my swan song,
And let this end now,
I need to be away,
away from these thorns,
far far away,
Where you'll only see my memories,
my shadows,
my untold stories buried after me,
and my last swan song,
Hear my swan song,
I feel like a fish out of water,
from pillar to post,
fallen back upon,
Let me be buried under sand,
let me give my final test,
I'll never return, its time to sing,
sing my last swan song,
Hear my swan song,
maybe this moment or the other,
my soul would rest in peace,
before disappearing,
let me sing,
sing my swan song,
I only remember now the memory lived in me,
a perfectly encapsulated morsel,
of a good past,
from piebald brush strokes swaying,
to barren now, that I'd become,
As I'll say my last goodbye,
hear my swan song,
because now you'll never hear my voice again,
for ever and ever and ever...
Written on 5/6/11
poem by Ayesha Riaz
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To Be And So On
To Be or…
The swan on the lake doesn’t know it is a swan,
they say. How do they know? A swan may look
at us and say to another swan “Darling humans
don’t who they are.” Quite right my lovely, they
are daft that way” (swans have lot in common
with actors, the lake is their stage and we are
their adoring audience) I know that because Tom,
the only actor I have met in the flesh, called me
darling, well, not only me but everyone he spoke
to. Tom died no one calls me darling anymore.
We only think we know ourselves, if we really did
it would be too scary to know that inside us lurks
a monster.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Tell me, O Swan, your ancient tale
Tell me, O Swan, your ancient tale.
From what land do you come,
O Swan? to what shore will you fly?
Where would you take your rest,
O Swan, and what do you seek?
Even this morning, O Swan, awake, arise, follow me!
There is a land where no doubt nor sorrow have rule:
where the terror of Death is no more.
There the woods of spring are a-bloom,
and the fragrant scent 'He is I' is borne on the wind:
There the bee of the heart is deeply immersed,
and desires no other joy.
Sing Me A Swan-song Not
Sing me a swan-song not, the tacit allegory
Of all the shadows that squander in the squalid vale
When the Sun, kingly, circumnavigating in circumspect
All over the gardens of plush askance - sing me a swan-song not.
Sing me a swan-song not, pale lover
For as the ides dawn a marching twine
Here I wait, like a tavern-frequenter, longing to behold
The intoxication of your supple wine,
Your dank submission, and your obsequiousness resembling
A flower toadied; a stem of savvy mysticism.
Sing me a swan-song not, in and out of the madness
The drizzle upon the pliant seethe of gray fire carries
The semblance of the quietus: have you seen a taciturn storm
Upon a battered doorstep love? That is I, a calm tempest -
An angst-ridden farcical or perhaps, the behest of the lustre
Of romance. And so sing me a swan-song not, dear love
Traipse alongside in an entwined manner, a sequestering specification
Of the gracious moon in the midnight soiree of unsheathed dreams.
Sing me a swan-song not, never, not even for a day, love
The fountains of bliss are situated in each wayward corner
Of the pallid walls where we break and amalgamate ourselves
Again - that is where I found you, wincing away into the sultry air
A soul confined to the thresholds of a bewailing thousand-shards;
Sing me a swan-song not, I will croon the lullaby of a
Thousand-fabled joys and a too-sudden image cast into
These eyes. Sing me a swan-song not, as I knock upon
Your doorstep, waking you in your unsettling slumber,
Professing love, like a flame whilst speaking, tongue in a knot:
Love, sing me a swan-song not in the time of your iridescences!
poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr
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23a, Swan Hill
(ian hunter)
(transcribed by justin purington; corrections by colin ford)
Wrote this poem
Called the floods roll on
He said this aint yours,
Whered you get it from?
You must have stole it from a book,
Oh yeah
You must have stole it from a book.
cause you aint frail
You aint beautiful,
And I dont fancy you
At all.
Youd be a ruin
If looks could kill
23 a, swan hill
Stiff with rage
Screaming at the sky
Innocence breaks
Says she wants to die
Im assuming Im alive
Oh yeah
Im assuming Im alive
She pushes and she pulls
My legs go weak
In fascinating terror
The whole world moves
And Im standing still
In 23a swan hill
And its always raining
And you never ask why
You never give yourself a shot
You just sit and watch your life go by
Kicking stones
At a still life
Want to pull it down
Slash it slash it
There must be some way out here
There must be some way out here
This aint right
There must be more to life
Than breaking and entering
Doing peoples heads in
Alcohol, nicotine
Thinking what I might have been
You would be a ruin
If looks could kill
23 a, swan hill
And the whole world moves
And Im standing still
In 23 a, swan hill
And I will
And I will
And I will
And I will
In 23 a, swan hill
(repeat and fade)
song performed by by Ian Hunter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Swan
Traffic jams, Concorde drones
TV's and radios drown me out
You won't change slamming doors
Temper, temper, that tongue of yours, drown me out
I've told you once when it comes to love
I'm like a swan, I only love once
I've told you once push comes to shove
I'm like a swan
I only love, only love, only love once
Dumbells crash, babies cry
A thousand voices, mostly lies, drown me out
The underground, Marble Arch
The deafening snap of breaking hearts, drown me out
I've told you once when it comes to love
I'm like a swan, I only love once
I've told you once push comes to shove
I'm like a swan
I only love, only love, only love once
Barking dogs, the lonely roam
The great unlaid making their way home, drown me out
I've told you once when it comes to love
I'm like a swan, I only love once
I've told you once push comes to shove
I'm like a swan
I only love, only love, only love once
song performed by by Right Said Fred
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Swan Lee
Swan lee got up at the running foot pow-wow,
Heading from the fire to his waiting canoe.
Chattering squaw untied the wigwam door,
The chief blew smoke rings two by two!
The land in silence stands...
Swan lee, his boat by the bank in the darkness,
Loosened the rope in the creek is entwined.
A feather from the wing of a wild young eagle,
Pointed to the land where his fortune he'd find
The land in silence stands
Swan lee paddled on from the land of his fathers,
His eyes scanned the undergrowth on either side.
From the shore hung a hot, heavy, creature infested
Tropic, swan lee had a bow by his side
The land in silence stands
Swan lee kept time, half on land, half on water,
Grizzly bear and raccoon his fare.
He followed his ears to the great water fall,
Swan lee knew deep down that his squaw was there!
The land in silence stands....
Suddenly the rush of the mighty great thunder,
Confronted swan lee as his song he sang,
In the dawn, with his squaw, he was battling homewards
It was all written down by long silas lang.
The land in silence stands...
The land in silence stands...
The land in silence stands.
song performed by by Pink Floyd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Song of the Silent Swan
The Song of the Silent Swan
I came upon a swan and asked to hear from it a song;
It said, “I sing in silence, and in silence you will hear
A song far greater-if you will but listen to His voice
Whom you with earthly eyes can’t see, because He is so near.”
“But I am not permitted yet to sing, or I would lie:
For God made me to listen in the silence my life long,
Composing every day for Him the notes of one sweet song,
Which I will sing most beautifully the day I am to die.”
poem by Sean Wright
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My Swan, Let us Fly
My swan, let us fly to that land
Where your Beloved lives forever.
That land has an up-ended well
Whose mouth, narrow as a thread,
The married soul draws water from
Without a rope or pitcher.
My swan, let us fly to that land
Where your Beloved lives forever.
Clouds never cluster there,
Yet it goes on and on raining.
Don’t keep squatting outside in the yard –
Come in! Get drenched without a body!
My swan, let us fly to that land
Where your Beloved lives forever.
That land is always soaked in moonlight;
Darkness can never come near it.
It is flooded always with the dazzle
Of not one, but a million suns.
My swan, let us fly to that land
Where your Beloved lives forever.
The Swan And The Fawn
Finely Freckled Fawn called to Suave, Stately Swan,
“Please help me quickly. I need you to come on.
When I took a drink in the pond, what did I see?
But a poor little fawn drowning who looked just like me.”
Sir Swan explained “Be calm my dear and listen here.
It’s only your reflection.” he explained with affection.
“Each time you take a drink just think how you can smile,
As that pretty face looking at you is happy all the while.”
“Oh thank you Sir Swan.” said the grateful Freckled Fawn.
“All my fears and all my tears from now on will be gone.
Suave, Stately Swan and Finely Freckled Fawn are friends
Because of thoughtfulness and gratitude upon which friendship depends.
poem by Gregory Huyette
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The Swan ~ A Villanelle
Floating upon the crystal pond
She kept wearing her diamond crown
While the other white swan was gone
Never doubting their fierce loving bond
As the leaves went from reddish to brown
Floating upon the crystal pond
Her blue eyes searching far beyond
Couldn't see that he'd recently drowned
While the other white swan was gone
So curling, becoming withdrawn
When ten suns in the sky settled down
Floating upon the crystal pond
She talked to the geese that were blond
And asked where he was with a frown
While the other white swan was gone
They cared not and didn't respond
In the reeds was a kings golden crown
Floating upon the crystal pond
While the other white swan was gone
poem by Sara Fielder
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I have had so many great moments, but I would have to say that dancing the Swan in 'Swan Lake' was such a unique and passionate experience for me. It was such bloody hard work, even at that very early age, that I would not want to try to replicate it again now.
quote by William Kempe
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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This One
Did I ever take you in my arms,
Look you in the eye, tell you that I do,
Did I ever open up my heart
And let you look inside.
If I never did it, I was only waiting
For a better moment that didnt come.
There never could be a better moment
Than this one, this one.
The swan is gliding above the ocean,
A God is riding upon his back,
How calm the water and bright the rainbow
Fade this one to black.
Did I ever touch you on the cheek
Say that you were mine, thank you for the smile,
Did I ever knock upon your door
And try to get inside?
If I never did it, I was only waiting
For a better moment that didnt come.
There never could be a better moment
Than this one, this one.
The swan is gliding above the ocean,
A God is riding upon his back,
How calm the water and bright the rainbow
Fade this swan to black.
What opportunities did we allow to flow by
Feeling like like the timing wasnt quite right?
What kind of magic might have worked if we had stayed calm,
Couldnt I have given you a better life?
Did you ever take me in your arms,
Look me in the eye, tell me that you do?
Did I ever open up my heart,
Let you look inside?
If I never did it, I was only waiting
For a better moment that didnt come.
There never could be a better moment
Than this one, this one.
The swan is gliding above the ocean,
A God is riding upon his back,
How calm the water and bright the rainbow
Fade this swan to black.
song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shiva
There is a hawk that is picking the birds out of our sky,
She killed the pigeons of peace and security,
She has taken honesty and confidence from nations and men,
She is hunting the lonely heron of liberty.
She loads the arts with nonsense, she is very cunning
Science with dreams and the state with powers to catch them at last.
Nothing will escape her at last, flying nor running.
This is the hawk that picks out the star's eyes.
This is the only hunter that will ever catch the wild swan;
The prey she will take last is the wild white swan of the beauty of things.
Then she will be alone, pure destruction, achieved and supreme,
Empty darkness under the death-tent wings.
She will build a nest of the swan's bones and hatch a new brood,
Hang new heavens with new birds, all be renewed.
poem by Robinson Jeffers
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I shall not Die for thee
O woman, shapely as the swan,
On your account I shall not die:
The men you've slain -- a trivial clan --
Were less than I.
I ask me shall I die for these --
For blossom teeth and scarlet lips --
And shall that delicate swan-shape
Bring me eclipse?
Well-shaped the breasts and smooth the skin,
The cheeks are fair, the tresses free --
And yet I shall not suffer death,
God over me!
Those even brows, that hair like gold,
Those languorous tones, that virgin way,
The flowing limbs, the rounded heel
Slight men betray!
Thy spirit keen through radiant mien,
Thy shining throat and smiling eye,
Thy little palm, thy side like foam --
I cannot die!
O woman, shapely as the swan,
In a cunning house hard-reared was I:
O bosom white, O well-shaped palm,
I shall not die!
poem by Padraic Colum
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The White Swan
kiss the lake at dawn
graceful, divine, majestic
new queen, the white swan
haiku by Marius Alexandru (27 December 2020)
Submitted by anonym
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The Teutons have been singing the swan song ever since they entered the ranks of history. They have always confounded truth with death.
quote by Henry Miller
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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An aggrieved heart
Two happy birds singing together,
Two little bees humming together,
Two pretty swans gliding together,
Two harmonious hearts beating together.
One happy bird stopped its song,
One little bee dropped along,
One pretty swan was marooned,
One heart plucked and swooned.
One sad bird sings no more,
One morose bee is so sore,
One poor swan is washed ashore,
One aggrieved heart weeps to the core.
poem by Chandra Thiagarajan
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One Night Stand
Listen, you silk-hearted bastard,
I said in the bar last night,
You wear those dream clothes
Like a swan out of water.
Listen, you wool-feathered bastard,
My name, just for the record, is Leda.
I can remember pretending
That your red silk tie is a real heart
That your raw wool suit is real flesh
That you could float beside me with a swan’s touch
Of casual satisfaction.
But not the swan’s blood.
Waking tomorrow, I remember only
Somebody’s feathers and his wrinkled heart
Draped loosely in my bed.
poem by Jack Spicer
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An Irresistible Agony
An Irresistible Agony
April Swan
You knew you would
Hurt me
But you continued to
Cut me
You knew I was crying
But you pushed me
You shoved me
You ripped my heart out
Though you don't even touch me
But you torture me so
Even when I know
You do not love me
poem by April Swan
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