Epistle No. 39
Storm and wave their tumult cease.
See, the heav'nly galaxies,
Fainter, even dimmer
Is their golden glimmer
As the morning
Softly dawning
Of the sun's wan ray gives warning.
Asp and maple sighing,
Stream and marsh replying,
Woodcock buzzes,
Peasant passes
Round his filly's neck her harness.
Now in our stove
When it is lit,
Grasses and twigs
Crackle and spit,
Soon our porridge will be boiling.
Now with tousled brow
Cottager, I trow,
Seeks to light his pipe,
And out in the field
Leaning on a stone,
Dalesman lifts anew his spade.
poem by Carl Michael Bellman
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Thoughts Of The Sunlight
Thoughts of the sunlight fainter and dimmer,
And parched the grass.
Breezes, freh breezes at dawn's early shimmer,
Flit by repass.
Look at the willows against a clear heaven,
Cloudless and wide.
Better, Far better not to be given
Thee for thy bride!
Thoughts of the daylight dimmer and fainter.
Oh, darkness! Gloom!
Once again . . . Morning,
Tell me if winter is come.
poem by Anna Akhmatova
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Dogtown
Okay.
The towns dawning, Im the only one awake.
The streets are whistling, I light my fourth cigarette.
I think of my friends, they were once not so dead.
What are they thinking now?
One day Ill be just a little stone,
Nobodyll know that the stone had such emotions.
Anyway, Im always on the run.
Someday Ill be remembered for the phone calls I never made,
Letters I never mailed,
And stories I never finished telling anyone.
The towns yawning, I let my dog walk me around.
He took a shoot and people smiled,
I tried the same and people frowned.
Yes, its a dog, dogtown.
One day lets be a pair of trees,
Nobodyll know that the trees had such a history.
Anyway, wed never be this lonely.
Someday Ill be remembered for the fine words I meant to keep,
A warm smile I meant to leave,
And a true song I meant to finish writing all my life.
Yes, its a dogtown, its a dogtown,
Yes, its a dogtown, its a dogtown.
Dog, dog, dog, dog, dog, dog, dog, dog, dogtown.
Peas porridge luck, peas porridge stuck,
Peas porridge in the pot nine years old.
Some gets paid, some gets grades,
Some stays in the pot nine years old.
Yes, its a dogtown, its a dogtown,
Yes, its a dogtown, its a dogtown.
Dog, dog, dog, dog, dog, dog, dog, dog, dogtown.
Peas porridge loved, peas porridge spoiled,
Peas porridge in the pot nine years old.
Some gets laid, some gets slayed,
Some stays in the pot nine years old.
Yes, its a dogtown, its a dogtown,
Yes, its a dogtown, its a dogtown.
Dog, dog, dog, dog, dog, dog, dog, dog, dogtown.
Dogtown, dogtown, dogtown, dogtown,
Dogtown, dogtown, dogtown -.
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dogtown
Okay.
The towns dawning, Im the only one awake.
The streets are whistling, I light my fourth cigarette.
I think of my friends, they were once not so dead.
What are they thinking now?
One day Ill be just a little stone,
Nobodyll know that the stone had such emotions.
Anyway, Im always on the run.
Someday Ill be remembered for the phone calls I never made,
Letters I never mailed,
And stories I never finished telling anyone.
The towns yawning, I let my dog walk me around.
He took a shoot and people smiled,
I tried the same and people frowned.
Yes, its a dog, dogtown.
One day lets be a pair of trees,
Nobodyll know that the trees had such a history.
Anyway, wed never be this lonely.
Someday Ill be remembered for the fine words I meant to keep,
A warm smile I meant to leave,
And a true song I meant to finish writing all my life.
Yes, its a dogtown, its a dogtown,
Yes, its a dogtown, its a dogtown.
Dog, dog, dog, dog, dog, dog, dog, dog, dogtown.
Peas porridge luck, peas porridge stuck,
Peas porridge in the pot nine years old.
Some gets paid, some gets grades,
Some stays in the pot nine years old.
Yes, its a dogtown, its a dogtown,
Yes, its a dogtown, its a dogtown.
Dog, dog, dog, dog, dog, dog, dog, dog, dogtown.
Peas porridge loved, peas porridge spoiled,
Peas porridge in the pot nine years old.
Some gets laid, some gets slayed,
Some stays in the pot nine years old.
Yes, its a dogtown, its a dogtown,
Yes, its a dogtown, its a dogtown.
Dog, dog, dog, dog, dog, dog, dog, dog, dogtown.
Dogtown, dogtown, dogtown, dogtown,
Dogtown, dogtown, dogtown -.
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Watching the Needleboats at San Sabba
I heard their young hearts crying
Loveward above the glancing oar
And heard the prairie grasses sighing:
No more, return no more!
O hearts, O sighing grasses,
Vainly your loveblown bannerets mourn!
No more will the wild wind that passes
Return, no more return.
poem by James Joyce
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Within The April Woodland Grow
Within the April woodland grow
The bluebells of the dawning spring,
A sea of blue like waves that flow
Upon the breeze they softly sing.
As now the boughs begin to leaf
The sun does shine with gentle beam,
To light the flowers there beneath
And glisten on the restful stream.
That through the woodland winds its way
And follows me where'er I tread,
For love has come to me this day
As to this land I now am wed.
My heart is filled with gladdened cheer
To see the sight and hear the sound,
To me the greatest time of year
When they adorn the barren ground.
Each one to me a lover's kiss
Upon my lips that waited long,
For now I feel a sense of bliss
That lifts me like the throstle's song.
Within the April woodland grow
The bluebells of the dawning spring,
A sea of blue like waves that flow
Unto the shore they softly sing.
poem by Andrew Blakemore
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The Marsh Land
The nearer I come to the wild marsh land
the more I hear red-knobbed coots carolling
where a swarm of tiny weavers twitter,
rocking and balancing on the long reeds,
cheerfully the meandering stream jabbers
while it shines in the bright morning light
next to the big old hanging willow tree,
where a symphony of nature resounds.
Marsh bulrushes rocks plumed in the wind
that blows softly through the bushes of sprouts,
somewhat blinded by the natural beauty
I wander like a child through all the reeds,
drops of water jet when wild ducks fly up,
with rushes suddenly rocking up and down.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Man In The Bowler Hat
I am the unnoticed, the unnoticable man:
The man who sat on your right in the morning train:
The man who looked through like a windowpane:
The man who was the colour of the carriage, the colour of the mounting
Morning pipe smoke.
I am the man too busy with a living to live,
Too hurried and worried to see and smell and touch:
The man who is patient too long and obeys too much
And wishes too softly and seldom.
I am the man they call the nation's backbone,
Who am boneless - playable castgut, pliable clay:
The Man they label Little lest one day
I dare to grow.
I am the rails on which the moment passes,
The megaphone for many words and voices:
I am the graph diagram,
Composite face.
I am the led, the easily-fed,
The tool, the not-quite-fool,
The would-be-safe-and-sound,
The uncomplaining, bound,
The dust fine-ground,
Stone-for-a-statue waveworn pebble-round
Submitted by Stephen Fryer
poem by Arthur Seymour John Tessimond
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Honors
When the column of light on the waters is glassed,
As blent in one glow seem the shine and the stream;
But wave after wave through the glory has passed,
Just catches, and flies as it catches, the beam
So honors but mirror on mortals their light;
Not the man but the place that he passes is bright.
poem by Friedrich Schiller
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Golden Boy
Words and music by bob seger
Golden boy
Take your place
Among the stars
Light your fire
Cast your glow
Near and far
Mothers eyes
Warm you when you sleep
Theres a tree
By a brook
In the glade
Theres a wave
Off a cape
Making way
Galaxies
Rush away from you
Ill be there
In the wind
In your sails
Through the clouds
Through the fog
Through the gates
Ill be there
Golden boy for you
song performed by by Bob Seger
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wings
Wings, like curtains' float,
beneath the morning clothes
Blow the wind like breath
fading on the nest of wools' clouds.
Fire crackle dancing flames at the sun watch.
The morning arms embrace,
the warm nature, starving the day of whitening light,
and at the laugh of your body, trembling at my touch.
I shall find pearls of shells
kissing your roseate breasts
dress by leafs of nubile trees.
Enfold my breath, on the river of your neck,
softly sailing your lips.
So that naked, rising from your spine,
it will make you shine like a chandelier of jewels.
Now the room prays at the light,
at the side of the bad, cold like steel
dizzy like flocks of roses, under the weeping elms.
Your eye's thief s, oh young girl, that stole my heart.
Indiscrete you carry that brat golden smiles, of my youth memories
when my hands whisper like webs, tickling your face.
Hiding on corns fields, of scruffy kisses.
poem by Luca Menin
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The Earth Laments for Day
THERE’S music wafting on the air,
The evening winds are sighing
Among the trees—and yonder stream
Is mournfully replying,
Lamenting loud the sunny light
That in the west is dying.
The moon is rising o’er the hill,
Her slanting rays are creeping
Where Nature lies profoundly still
In happy quiet sleeping,
And resting on her face, they’ll find
The earth is wet with weeping.
She mourneth for the lovely day,
Now deep in darkness shaded;
She sheds the dewy tear because
Of morning’s mantle faded;
She misses from her breast the garb
In which the moon array’d it.
The evening queen will strive in vain
To break the spell which bound her;
A million stars can never throw
Departed warmth around her;
They all must pass away and leave
The earth as they had found her.
But why should gentle Nature weep
That night has overtaken
The wearied world that needed sleep,
Refreshed to re-awaken,
So richer light might burst around,
The gloomy shadows breaking?
Oh, can she not from yonder sky
That gleams above her, borrow
A single ray, or find a way
To check the tear of sorrow?
A beam of hope would last her till
The dawning of to-morrow.
poem by Henry Kendall
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The Day That Curly Billy Shot Down Crazy Sam Mcgee
(clarke)
Big tall man standing in the street
Gun hanging by his side
Just one man that hed like to meet
Thats when I began to hide
I recognised him from the face of his son
The hate in his eye didnt lie
Oh what I did cant be undone
Borrowed time theres none to buy
Well I hid round the back of a derelict shack
Aint looking for a mad showdown
But he was smart, hed already checked
A week in advance Id paid down
Well the hotel clerk was a fun-loving man
The job he had it didnt pay
He told all about what happened that night
There he is, thats the ones all hed say
Well all the people were running, jumping, even thumping
On my bad neighbours doors
Crying curly billy silly with his colt he calls filly
Let me in I gotta hide
Well everybody was crying, sighing sam mcgees dying
No one to protect our town
Curly billy silly with his colt he calls filly,
Hes gonna shoot your sherriff down
Big tall man standing in the street
Now a hand hovering waiting to slide
Drew out his gun it wasnt for fun
Let me in theres nowhere to hide
Well I made my play but it wasnt my day
I felt the ripping lead
Thats when I knew my time was through
Rest in peace were the last words he said
Well all the people were running, jumping, even thumping
On my bad neighbours doors
Crying curly billy silly with his colt he calls filly
Let me in I gotta hide
Well everybody was crying, sighing sam mcgees dying
No one to protect our town
Curly billy silly with his colt he calls filly,
Hes gonna shoot your sherriff down
Well all the people were running, jumping, even thumping
On my bad neighbours doors
Crying curly billy silly with his colt he calls filly
Let me in I gotta hide
Well everybody was crying, sighing sam mcgees dying
No one to protect our town
Curly billy silly with his colt he calls filly,
Hes gonna shoot your sherriff down
song performed by by Hollies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Nun in the Schoolyard
The morning
The morning smile
Her smile
The morning light
The light morning
The light step
The heavy steps around
The passers by
Her smile
A light stop
A smile widens
The river
In her eyes
Lights the dark
The lark
'Good morning'
Sings the morning
Passes by
The night
And many a night
Her smile
Passes by
The sweetest
Unforgetable.
poem by Eman Elbadawi
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July Morning
There I was on a july morning
Looking for love
With the strength
Of a new day dawning
And the beautiful sun
At the sound
Of the first bird singing
I was leaving for home
With the storm
And the night behind me
And a road of my own
With the day came the resolution
Ill be looking for you
La la la la
I was looking for love
In the strangest places
Wasnt a stone
That I left unturned
Must have tried more
Than a thousand faces
But not one was aware
Of the fire that burned
In my heart, in my mind, in my soul
La la la la
There I was on a july morning
I was looking for love
With the strength
Of a new day dawning
And the beautiful sun
And at the sound
Of the first bird singing
I was leaving for home
With the storm
And the night behind me
Yeah, and a road of my own
song performed by by Uriah Heep
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Beloved In A Mosaic
Sinking into contemplation where soft words
fill body and mind while my love flows in a
turquoise stream as the sun's rays dance
among the dreams which are part of me
Seeing myself in all I love, the light passing
through my crystal lamp, the prism creating
a thousand rainbows like my soul reflecting
my beloved in a mosaic of interacting bits
The lamp symbol of my soul - I also see all
I love within; your eyes holding a thousand
dreams, my eyes replying with a thousand
more; my figurines, fairy and shepherdess
Representing belief in romance, you, my own
chimney sweep - my hand stroking your chin,
following the line of your brow - meeting the
need for a soft satin touch - and your hand
Softly teazing my neck; taking care of all we
love - offering each other the greatest gift:
my trust in your heart as I receive the trust
you have in me - what a wonderful bond
The link you have forged in the fires of your
heart and the throes of your passion - our
delight forevermore…
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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The Rest
The rest of us watch from beyond the fence
as the woman moves with her jagged stride
into her pain as if into a slow race.
We see her body in motion
but hear no sounds, or we hear
sounds but no language; or we know
it is not a language we know
yet. We can see her clearly
but for her it is running in black smoke.
The cluster of cells in her swelling
like porridge boiling, and bursting,
like grapes, we think. Or we think of
explosions in mud; but we know nothing.
All around us the trees
and the grasses light up with forgiveness,
so green and at this time
of the year healthy.
We would like to call something
out to her. Some form of cheering.
There is pain but no arrival at anything.
poem by Margaret Atwood
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When
When Golden Ages just fly-
Fly-fly-high away...
And Saturn just passes by-
By-by-into the sky-to stay;
When generations of citizens celebrate...
And dance near mid-air...
When day-dreamers of an era-
Are oh-so-devil-may care;
When the Golden Goose layed her egg...
And time-as we know it-flew...
Back in the day of the Argonauts...
The day-i found myself in you;
When in that day-so surreal...
I consented to my hand...
Giving it over in a union-
That today-i still do not understand;
For i am still looking for the 'Dawning of Aquarius'-
A time of love and sweet peace...
Where its reality-sinks criminality...
And Cabals of Greed simply cease;
May 6,2010
poem by Theodora Onken
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Spit It Out
If theres rage inside you so you cannot think
Spit it out
If you get so angry that you cannot speak
Spit it out
Talk to him or her or it
And tell them where they can put it
Spit it out, spit it out
You got to talk to him or her or it
And take aim with your mouth and spit
Spit it out, spit it out
If you get worked over at your job
Spit it out
If a taxi almost runs you down
Spit it out
You got to take aim with your mouth and speak
And give it to them right between the teeth
Spit it out, spit it out
Talk to him or her or it
And take aim with your mouth and spit
Spit it out, spit it out
Spit it out
Hey, hey, hey
If youre patient and you have the time
Spit it out
Wait till theyre on the decline
Spit it out
The chinese say you meet the hard with the soft
The yin with the yang, the down with the up, oh
Spit it out, spit it out
You got to grab that dumb he, she or it
And give it to them right between the teeth
Spit it out, spit it out
Spit it out, babe, spit it out
Hey
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Learning to Play Coltrane
She thought it was green, not
the emerald green of Indian summer
but a green like a darkening plain,
or the shadow rivers cast.
She thought it was light, a glint
or a warning, the shine
at the papery edge
of storm clouds. The way
a voice rising and falling becomes
a premonition, a dampness
at the back of her neck. Or maybe
it was more of an imprint,
a memory of sound, some afternoon
after the circus has left town
and all that remains is a field
strewn with garbage, a music
of pasted stars and ruin.
And she thought of a color
like that, mud-green, the green
of a small sadness, shapeless
as the wind itself. And for a moment
she owned everything inside it,
the light, the field, the wind.
—for Adrian
First published in American Poetry Review.
poem by Silvia Curbelo
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At The End Of The Day!
i am not the light,
not even a shadow.
i am not the rain,
nor the grasses that yearn.
i am not a prayer,
am not the answer.
i am not the war,
nor the peace that is coming.
i am not the truth,
i am not a lie.
i am not your saviour,
i am not a stepping stone.
i am not forever,
nor am i yesterday.
i am not holy,
nor am i evil.
i am not the sunset,
nor am i the dawning.
i am not a hero,
nor am i a fool.
i am not the best,
nor am i the worst.
i am just a man,
no more, and no less.
i am just a man,
a man who has loved you...
and at the end of the day,
that is enough!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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