From Virginia To Paris
The polecat, sovereign of its native wood,
Dashes damnation upon bad and good;
The health of all the upas trees impairs
By exhalations deadlier than theirs;
Poisons the rattlesnake and warts the toad
The creeks go rotten and the rocks corrode!
She shakes o'er breathless hill and shrinking dale
The horrid aspergillus of her tail!
From every saturated hair, till dry,
The spargent fragrances divergent fly,
Deafen the earth and scream along the sky!
Removed to alien scenes, amid the strife
Of urban odors to ungladden life
Where gas and sewers and dead dogs conspire
The flesh to torture and the soul to fire
Where all the 'well defined and several stinks'
Known to mankind hold revel and high jinks
Humbled in spirit, smitten with a sense
Of lost distinction, leveled eminence,
She suddenly resigns her baleful trust,
Nor ever lays again our mortal dust.
Her powers atrophied, her vigor sunk,
She lives deodorized, a sweeter skunk.
poem by Ambrose Bierce
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The Vantage Point
If tires of trees I seek again mankind, Well I know where to hie me--in the dawn, To a slope where the cattle keep the lawn. There amid loggin juniper reclined, Myself unseen, I see in white defined Far off the homes of men, and farther still, The graves of men on an opposing hill, Living or dead, whichever are to mind. And if by noon I have too much of these, I have but to turn on my arm, and lo, The sun-burned hillside sets my face aglow, My breathing shakes the bluet like a breeze, I smell the earth, I smell the bruisèd plant, I look into the crater of the ant.
poem by Robert Frost
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Shellshock
Thats the way - shellshock
Hold on!its never enough
Its never enough until your heart stops beating
The deeper you get, the sweeter the pain
Dont give up the game until your heart stops beating
You call me on the phone, you left me all alone
All I get from you is shellshock
Another day goes by and all I do is cry
All I get from you is shellshock
Id tell the world and save my soul
But rain falls down and I feel cold
A cold that sleeps within my heart
It tears the earth and sun apart
But thats the way that I can win
A victim of your evil sin
Youve lost the hold youve had on me
By causing the changes that you never see
Hold on! its never enough
Its never enough until your heart stops beating
The deeper you get, the sweeter the pain
Dont give up the game until your heart stops beating
When we walk through open doorways,
Counting time in one or more ways
We cant find our peace of mind
And life becomes a life of crime
And thats the day I call your name
I came to you, I called in vain
You lost the faith within your heart
The fire in your soul from the end to the start
Hold on!its never enough
Its never enough until your heart stops beating
The deeper you get, the sweeter the pain
Dont give up the game until your heart stops beating
Ive been good and Ive been bad
But common sense Ive never had
No matter how I try and try,
I hide the truth behind a lie
But thats the way that I can win
A victim of your evil sin
You lost the faith within your heart
The fire in your soul from the end to the start
Hold on!its never enough
Its never enough until your heart stops beating
The deeper you get, the sweeter the pain
Dont give up the game until your heart stops beating
song performed by by New Order
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Rattlesnake Trail
Got a hair shirt round my shoulder. got a cold stew in my spoon.
And Im falling on my head, lifting feet of lead ---
Now its got me baying at the moon.
Well, theres a race on for tomorrow. Im stretching out
For what might have been.
Going to come out from the night, got my second sight ---
Play rough --- you know what I mean.
Im going for the kill. Im going tooth and nail
Up that dusty hill --- on the rattlesnake trail.
Got the law laid down to the left of me. got the real world to the right.
Heading up through the middle with my cat and my fiddle ---
Yeah, looking for a fight.
Going to ride hard in bandit country --- on the blind side of the bend.
Keep my nose to the wind while the rabbits skinned ---
Bed down at the journeys end. (be a rattlesnake.)
Im going for the kill. Im going tooth and nail
Up that dusty hill --- on the rattlesnake trail.
The rattlesnake trail.
Im going on the rattlesnake trail.
Going to be with wolves in winter --- run in angry packs by day.
But when you give a dog a bone, he has to be alone ---
Growl, keep the other dogs away.
See that thin moon on the mountain. see that cold star in the sky.
Going to bring them down --- shake them to the ground ---
Put that apple in the pie. (be a rattlesnake.)
Im going for the kill. Im going tooth and nail
Up that dusty hill --- on the rattlesnake trail.
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Meditations Upon An Egg
1.
The egg's no chick by falling from the hen;
Nor man a Christian, till he's born again.
The egg's at first contained in the shell;
Men, afore grace, in sins and darkness dwell.
The egg, when laid, by warmth is made a chicken,
And Christ, by grace, those dead in sin doth quicken.
The egg, when first a chick, the shell's its prison;
So's flesh to the soul, who yet with Christ is risen.
The shell doth crack, the chick doth chirp and peep,
The flesh decays, as men do pray and weep.
The shell doth break, the chick's at liberty,
The flesh falls off, the soul mounts up on high
But both do not enjoy the self-same plight;
The soul is safe, the chick now fears the kite.
2.
But chicks from rotten eggs do not proceed,
Nor is a hypocrite a saint indeed.
The rotten egg, though underneath the hen,
If crack'd, stinks, and is loathsome unto men.
Nor doth her warmth make what is rotten sound;
What's rotten, rotten will at last be found.
The hypocrite, sin has him in possession,
He is a rotten egg under profession.
3.
Some eggs bring cockatrices; and some men
Seem hatch'd and brooded in the viper's den.
Some eggs bring wild-fowls; and some men there be
As wild as are the wildest fowls that flee.
Some eggs bring spiders, and some men appear
More venom'd than the worst of spiders are.[16]
Some eggs bring piss-ants, and some seem to me
As much for trifles as the piss-ants be.
Thus divers eggs do produce divers shapes,
As like some men as monkeys are like apes.
But this is but an egg, were it a chick,
Here had been legs, and wings, and bones to pick.
poem by John Bunyan
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To Hannah
Spirit girl to whom 'twas given
To revisit scenes of pain,
From the hell I thought was Heaven
You have lifted me again;
Through the world that I inherit,
Where I loved her ere she died,
I am walking with the spirit
Of a dead girl by my side.
Through my old possessions only
For a very little while,
And they say that I am lonely,
And they pity, but I smile:
For the brighter side has won me
By the calmness that it brings,
And the peace that is upon me
Does not come of earthly things.
Spirit girl, the good is in me,
But the flesh you know is weak,
And with no pure soul to win me
I might miss the path I seek;
Lead me by the love you bore me
When you trod the earth with me,
Till the light is clear before me
And my spirit too is free.
poem by Henry Lawson
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Eulogy To A Hell Of A Dame
some dogs who sleep At night
must dream of bones
and I remember your bones
in flesh
and best
in that dark green dress
and those high-heeled bright
black shoes,
you always cursed when you drank,
your hair coming down you
wanted to explode out of
what was holding you:
rotten memories of a
rotten
past, and
you finally got
out
by dying,
leaving me with the
rotten
present;
you've been dead
28 years
yet I remember you
better than any of
the rest;
you were the only one
who understood
the futility of the
arrangement of
life;
all the others were only
displeased with
trivial segments,
carped
nonsensically about
nonsense;
Jane, you were
killed by
knowing too much.
here's a drink
to your bones
that
this dog
still
dreams about.
poem by Charles Bukowski
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We Are Not Removed
The oceans roars its fear to us,
But we are not removed.
The wind beats its fear to us,
But we are not removed.
The earth shakes its fear to us,
But we are not removed.
The people scream their fear to us,
But we are not removed.
Ocean, wind, earth, and people
May try to strike us down
But evermore shall we endure-
For we are not removed!
poem by Heather Delhom
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Boys Bathing
Round them a fierce, wide, crazy noon
Heaves with crushed lips and glowing sides
Against the huge and drowsy sun.
Beneath them turn the glittering tides
Where dizzy waters reel with gold,
And strange, rich trophies sink and rise
From decks of sunken argosies.
With shining arms they cleave the cold
Far reaches of the sea, and beat
The hissing foam with flash of feet
Into bright fangs, while breathlessly
Curls over them the amorous sea.
Naked they laugh and revel there.
One shakes the sea-drops from his hair,
Then, singing, takes the bubbles: one
Lies couched among the shells, the sands
Telling gold hours between his hands:
One floats like sea-wrack in the sun.
The gods of Youth, the lords of Love,
Greeks of eternal Thessaly,
Mocking the powers they know not of,
Naked and unembraced and free!
To whom the Siren sings in vain
To-day, to-morrow who shall be
The destined sport of gods and men.
Unseen, the immortal ones are here,
Remembering their mortal loves-
The strange, sweet flesh, the lips that were
Frail and most perishably fair.
Diana leaves her whispering groves,
And of Actaeon dreams and sighs,
And hears the hounds bay in the wood.
Oh, Cythera, the trembling blood
Upon one petal's paling mouth
Before thee and this noon must rise
While thou remember Adon's eyes!
One mournful and complaining shade
Beyond Avernus shakes his head,
Dreaming of one beloved youth
Borne from him, lost and dazed and dead,
Dragged by the nymphs avenging hair
Into the sea-bed oozing dim,
In that cold twilight unaware
Of each great sunrise over him.
. . . . . .
One day, while still these waters run,
And noon still heaves beneath this sun,
You shall creep, unremembering,
Whom Life has humbled and subdued,
Ruined your bodies, tamed your blood,
No more the lords of anything.
But spent and racked with mortal pains,
The slow tide pushing through your veins,
Coldly you face this magic shore;
For you the dsenchanted noon
Scarce haunted is with ghosts that were
Once, and were you, and are no more.
Faltering against the wind and sun
That vainly seek your hair for gold,
Stubborned with habit, grey and old,
You know not why you wander here,
Nor what vague dream pursues you still,
For Life ahs taken fullest toll
Of all your beauty; on each soul
Love's hand has left his bitter mark,
Has had of you his utmost will,
And thrusts you headlong to the dark.
And colder than these waters are
The stream that takes your limbs at last:
Earth's vales and hills drift slowly past. . .
One shore far off, and one more far
poem by Muriel Stuart
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Hymn 22 part 2
Flesh and spirit.
Rom. 8:1
What vain desires and passions vain
Attend this mortal clay!
Oft have they pierced my soul with pain,
And drawn my heart astray.
How have I wandered from my God!
And, following sin and shame,
In this vile world of flesh and blood
Defiled my nobler frame!
For ever blessed be thy grace
That formed my soul anew,
And made it of a heav'n-born race,
Thy glory to pursue.
My spirit holds perpetual war,
And wrestles and complains;
But views the happy moment near
That shall dissolve its chains.
Cheerful in death I close my eyes
To part with every lust;
And charge my flesh, whene'er it rise,
To leave them in the dust.
My purer spirit shall not fear
To put this body on;
Its tempting powers no more are there,
Its lusts and passions gone!
poem by Isaac Watts
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The Explorer
Dearest, when I left your side,
I stood a moment, hesitating,
And plunged. The boiling tide
Of darkness took me, and down I went
Swift as a bird with folded wing,
And upward sent
The bubbles of my vital breath
That shuddered from my secret deeps
To freedom and light;
Then, dimly, on my sight
Opened the still abode of living death.
Amid the mire,
In which invisibly sightless horror creeps,
Sat, each intent on his own woe,
The host that burns with inward fire,
Crowded like monuments of memorial stone
Beneath a pitchy sky
Where even the flash of tempest dare not show,
Yet each of them alone;
And each was I.
II
Breathless I struggled up,
As if the gloom had arms to clutch at me
And drag and hold,
Until the daylight’s gold
Shook faintly above my dizzy head
And parted suddenly, that I might see
The sky, a sheltering cup
Of hopeful azure, and your eyes of blue,
One promise and yet two
Of harbouring bliss;
And your lips parted and said,
“Shall not we twain
Find joy upon joy on earth
Together and see,
In the kinship of all that has birth
From the mutual reach of desire,
A joy beyond this,
A fire at the heart of the fire?”
And we clung till our spirit was free
As the flame of a kiss.
III
So we soared and the earth fell away, and the region of night
Was melted in limitless day of ineffable light
Till the myriad souls of the dead were united as we,
Themselves, and yet merged in the spread of an infinite sea
The joy that is life, and around us, below and above,
The One that all lovers have found, our eternity, Love.
poem by John Le Gay Brereton
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A Lonely God!
a lonely God...
from dust made flesh,
and filled it with
the haunting spirit of wind.
eyes that open
both in and out,
a fire kindled of bones!
who are we
to run blindly
into the sun?
to hide from the rain
that weeps for us?
idols made of fear,
the soul chokes the spirit.
we stand on the porch,
afraid to open the door!
dust and flesh,
wind and fire...
bones that cry out,
tears lost in the rain.
a lonely God...
walks away!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Song Of The Spirit
Too sweet and too subtle for pen or for tongue
In phrases unwritten and measures unsung,
As deep and as strange as the sounds of the sea,
Is the song that my spirit is singing to me.
In the midnight and tempest when forest trees shiver,
In the roar of the surf, and the rush of the river,
In the rustle of leaves and the fall of the rain,
And on the low breezes I catch the refrain.
From the vapours that frame and envelop the earth,
And beyond, from the realms where my spirit had birth,
From the mists of the land and the fogs of the sea,
For ever and ever the songs come to me.
I know not its wording - its import I know -
For the rhythm is broken, the measure runs low,
When vexed or allured by the things of this life
My soul is merged into its pleasures or strife.
When up to the hill tops of beauty and light
My soul like a lark in the ether takes flight,
And the white gates of heaven shine brighter and nearer,
The song of the spirit grows sweeter and clearer.
Up, up to the realms where no mortal has trod -
Into space and infinity near to my God -
With whiteness, and silence, and beautiful things,
I am bourne when the voice of eternity sings.
When once in the winds or the dropp of the rain
Thy spirit shall listen and hear the refrain,
Thy soul shall soar up like a bird on the breeze,
And the things that have pleased thee will never more please.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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God’s With You; Are You With God?
God made man from dust of earth;
To dust, we’ll surely return;
God made man with soul and so,
Man seeks God and divine mirth!
No servant becomes Master;
No creature, Creator;
Yet, man was made in God’s image;
God’s love, no one can gauge.
Man is just a speck of dust
And lives in sin, pride and lust;
Yet, God loves man so deeply,
And forgives him so neatly.
Man lives on earth by grace of God;
His days are pre-destined by Lord;
All things just happen by God’s nod;
But our sins could get His rod!
Man strives to seek the unseen God;
But God is always within him;
Estranged from God is man in sin,
And life on earth turns rather grim!
Why waste your precious time in sin?
Why gather wealth meant for the bin;
Why spoil your health with drugs and gin?
Is your soul befitting Heaven?
Confess your sins to God, man.
Repent; increase your life-span;
Do more good and tilt the pan
In your favor, when you can.
poem by John Celes
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The Smell of a Dog
I love the way a dog smells.
Ever since I was a boy,
I have loved the smell of a dog's paws,
leathery pads, edged with fur,
that absorb the rich, musty fragrances
of where the dog and I have been
in our adventures together.
I love the smell of the top of a dog's head,
where the fur is smoother than at any other
part of the animal
and is usually cleaner, too.
The top-of-the-head smell is fresher than the paw,
more like the smell of a little boy's hair
at the end of a summer's day in the sun.
I don't mind
the faint smell of skunk on a dog,
(but only if it's faint) .
Snuggling down for a nap
with my skunk flavored companion
lying next to me
puts me back in another time,
when the world was new,
waiting to be explored and discovered
by my friends and me and our dogs;
when the little lame balloon man
was simply another reason to wonder.
Time For Temptation
Time for temptation, what you see is there for you
Time for temptation, no damnation for what you do
(good, good, good, good temptation)
Why you chasing a lost religion of guilty feelings
-that belong in yesterday?
Spy the preachers a politician, he carries the cross like a gun
- whip you into shape
Heres the rub, now, no secret hours locked in the backroom if you
- come together right
Check your vision and push it out there
- you make the question, define what its all about
(chorus)
(oh) oh...
With chains or heaven across your shoulder,
A slave for promotion to the afterlife
The boss gets fat while you just get older, here comes a mission
- set to put you right
Time for temptation, what you see is there for you
Time for temptation, no damnation for what you do - oh
Time for temptation, what you see is there for you
Time for temptation, no damnation for what you do
(no damnation...)
Time for temptation, what you see is there for you
Time for temptation, no damnation for what you do - oh
Time for temptation, what you see is there for you
Time for temptation, no damnation for what you do - oh
Time for temptation, what you see is there for you
(good, good, good, good temptation)
Time for temptation, no damnation for what you do
(good, good, good, good temptation)
Time for temptation, what you see is there for you
(good, good, good, good temptation)
Time for temptation, no damnation for what you do
(good, good, good, good temptation)
Time for temptation
song performed by by Duran Duran
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Church Monuments
While that my soul repairs to her devotion,
Here I intomb my flesh, that it betimes
May take acquaintance of this heap of dust;
To which the blast of death's incessant motion,
Fed with the exhalation of our crimes,
Drives all at last. Therefore I gladly trust
My body to this school, that it may learn
To spell his elements, and find his birth
Written in dusty heraldry and lines;
Which dissolution sure doth best discern,
Comparing dust with dust, and earth with earth.
These laugh at jet and marble put for signs,
To sever the good fellowship of dust,
And spoil the meeting. What shall point out them,
When they shall bow, and kneel, and fall down flat
To kiss those heaps, which now they have in trust?
Dear flesh, while I do pray, learn here thy stem
And true descent, that when thou shalt grow fat
And wanton in thy cravings, thou mayst know
That flesh is but the glass which holds the dust
That measures all our time; which also shall
Be crumbled into dust. Mark, here below
How tame these ashes are, how free from lust,
That thou mayst fit thyself against thy fall.
poem by George Herbert
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The Robes Which Bind
the ropes which bind the human soul
to the mortal earth are frayed and old
the are made filthy and washed by rain
the storms of times passing
the knots like fists cling tightly
while cracks and holes do nothing
the ropes which bind the human soul
to the mortal earth are frayed
weathered, worn, abused and cut
still, still they hold on regardless
like an indomitable spirit
those fist knots, those woven strands
anchor the soul to the earth
as though life itself depends
the day, the night the heavens above
names of faultless graces written
upon the fabricated strands
perhaps those of the fates themselves
the ropes which bind the human soul
to the mortal earth are frayed and old
but still, still they hold
poem by Matthew Holloway
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Sugar Hill
Writer Dolly Parton
Up on Sugar Hill we'd go walkin'
Hand in hand while the south wind blowed
Bob whites callin', black crows cawkin',
Countin' the warts on a toad in the road
Down in the mill pond swimmin naked
Showin' more than we should have showed
We were just kids explorin' nature
Learnin more than we should have knowed
Sug, Sug, Sug, Sugar Hill memories
Stealing sugar on the mountainside
Sug, Sug, Sug, Sugar Hill sugar
Sweeter than candy and cake and pie
A yellow dress drapin off of my shoulder
Seein' myself in the lookin glass
Older now and a little bit bolder
Thinkin' about our summers past
Up on Sugar Hill we'd go walkin'
Hand in hand up the mountainside
Teenage lovers plannin' and talkin'
Dreamin' of a future for you and I
Sug, Sug, Sug, Sugar Hill memories
Stealin' sugar on the mountain top
Sug, Sug, Sug, Sugar Hill sugar
Sweeter than ice cream and soda pop
Years have past, we're married with children
Our days are happy and our memories fond
We still find it quite appealin'
To go to Sugar Hill and swim naked in the pond
Sug, Sug, Sug, Sugar Hill memories
Stealin' sugar on the mountaintop
Sug, Sug, Sug, Sugar Hill sugar
Sweeter than ice cream and soda pop
Up on Sugar Hill theres a wealth of treasure
Down its memory lane I go walking still
What it means to me is more than I can measure
Golden moments up on Sugar Hill
Up on Sugar Hill with the fireflies glowin
Sound of katydids and the whipperwill
Honeysuckle bloomin and a mountain stream flowin
A little spot of heaven up on Sugar Hill
Up On Sugar Hill with the bobwhites callin
Black crows cawkin', and the soft wind blows
Up on Sugar Hill there are love birds talkin'
Up on Sugar Hill where the good times roll
Sug, Sug, Sug, Sugar Hill memories
Stealin sugar on the mountainside
Sug, Sug, Sug, Sugar Hill sugar
Sweeter than candy and cakes and pies
A little spot of heaven up on Sugar Hill
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Legendary Upas Tree for friend Chandra
The legendary Upas Tree
As I drew near the Upas tree
I felt a sudden lethargy.
I was devoid of energy
The Upas tree had captured me.
To satisfy its appetite.
With promises of sheer delight
it undermined my will to fight.
I must resist with all my might.
I will succeed in breaking free
and then destroy the Upas tree.
Then I discover suddenly
I am inside the Upas tree.
This is no dream or fantasy.
Alas it’s grim reality.
My struggles were to no avail
The tree must win I had to fail.
If you should find a Upas tree
avoid it very carefully.
Few men caught by this strange tree
ever succeed in breaking free.
One man lived to tell his story
How he escaped eventually.
But no one believed that there could be.
A sentient man eating tree.
I was a fool and paid no heed
To tell the truth I saw no need
and that is how I came to feed.
The Upas tree’s unholy greed.
20/08/2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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An Image From A Past Life
He. Never until this night have I been stirred.
The elaborate starlight throws a reflection
On the dark stream,
Till all the eddies gleam;
And thereupon there comes that scream
From terrified, invisible beast or bird:
Image of poignant recollection.
She. An image of my heart that is smitten through
Out of all likelihood, or reason,
And when at last,
Youth's bitterness being past,
I had thought that all my days were cast
Amid most lovely places; smitten as though
It had not learned its lesson.
He. Why have you laid your hands upon my eyes?
What can have suddenly alarmed you
Whereon 'twere best
My eyes should never rest?
What is there but the slowly fading west,
The river imaging the flashing skies,
All that to this moment charmed you?
She. A Sweetheart from another life floats there
As though she had been forced to linger
From vague distress
Or arrogant loveliness,
Merely to loosen out a tress
Among the starry eddies of her hair
Upon the paleness of a finger.
He. But why should you grow suddenly afraid
And start -- I at your shoulder --
Imagining
That any night could bring
An image up, or anything
Even to eyes that beauty had driven mad,
But images to make me fonder?
She. Now She has thrown her arms above her head;
Whether she threw them up to flout me,
Or but to find,
Now that no fingers bind,
That her hair streams upon the wind,
I do not know, that know I am afraid
Of the hovering thing night brought me.
poem by William Butler Yeats
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