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5th of November, Guy Fawkes' day

Burn bonfires to forget not,
The treasonous gunpowder plot,
Praise be the scheme was to be thwart,
And those responsible soon caught,
The fires make the night sky glow,
Fireworks give a thrilling show,
While effigies that flames consume,
Get dressed in a Guy Fawkes costume.
Though the house of Lords escaped flames,
And cries sounded long live king James,
Have the fifth of November marked,
For what traitors tried to have sparked,
A few that were fearful of change,
Shamed by what they sought to arrange,
Their country they were to betray,
On what's now known as Guy Fawkes' day.

poem by Christian Lacdael
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The Failed Gunpowder Plot

Halloween is over
and the ghosts have gone to bed.
The next thing on the agenda
is the failed gunpowder plot
where Guy Fawkes the silly clot
went and got himself caught
before he could blow up
the dear old Houses of Parliament.
Just imagine if he had succeeded
what kind of place it would be,
no more paying income taxes
bleeding us all dry,
no more scheming ministers
fiddling their expenses.
Then there is the problem of who
would take over the running of the country.
Royalty I can only guess,
can you just imagine
a King Charles and Queen Camilla.
Not really, no, no, never.
Guy Fawkes come back
you silly clot all is forgiven
and try again you silly sod
only this time get it right,
blow up the blessed treasury
and bankrupt the blinking lot.

1 November 2009

poem by David Harris
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Strange Night

Strange sights are in the night,
Showering the eyes with complete light.
They say weird tales, causing fear by it,
But there has been a coast of well-being.
Burning, with the flames in the air,
Carries a plight, one of the hazards of the night,
It is a bonfire, thank you, with beautiful lights -
Fireworks! Fireworks of Bonfire Night!
Guy Fawkes is the strangest man I have ever met.

poem by Naveed Akram
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Part of the plot was a knock that V wanted to bring down the government and bring chaos. I don't know why I thought of Guy Fawkes, because it was during the summer. I thought that would be great if he looked like Guy Fawkes, kind of theatrical.

quote by David Lloyd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Unforgettable.

I remember, I remember
Every year in November.
The night I saw a young boy die.
Every year I wonder why..

Could this death have been prevented.
Yes if people were contented.
just to stand and watch the show
instead running to and fro

Throwing bangers at each other
and in general causing bother
Demonstrating lack of sense,
careless of the consequence

A firework set him on fire.
The flames spread quickly rising higher.
In his panic he chose to run.
The last thing that he should have done.

It was the last mistake he made.
By the time we rendered first aid.
He was burnt from head to toe.
We knew it would be touch and go.

Despite the efforts of a nurse
his condition became worse.
He died before help could arrive.
There was no way he could survive.

On Guy Fawkes Night I stay indoors.
I think I have sufficient cause.
I can remember vividly
a small boy dying tragically.

I remember, I remember
Every year in November.
The night I saw a young boy die
every year I wonder why.

26/10/2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers

poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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A Penny for the Guy

(Ever remember the fifth of November,
Gunpowder, treason and plot,
We see no reason why gunpowder treason
Should ever be forgot!)

I was sorting through my father's things,
A month since he had died,
And flipping through the books he'd loved,
To still the chill inside,
When out there fell a photograph
Of me, at nine years old,
A tiny square of black and white
That made my blood run cold!

It brought the memories rushing back,
For in that ancient scene,
I stood before a building that
Would make an old man scream,
An air raid shelter, from the war,
A roof so flat and square,
And on the top the bonfire that
Once lit, brought grief to bear.

November 1946,
Was pencilled on the rear,
That date was burnt into my brain,
It brought a sudden tear,
And memories of childhood friends
I hadn't seen since then,
Nor ever would again, I thought,
I left, when I was ten!

We'd stuffed the Guy with newspaper
Inside my father's suit,
And Ben, he had supplied the hat,
And Shirley brought the boots,
We put him on the barrow
Roamed the streets and gave a shout,
'A penny for the Guy, ' we called,
The Guy just flopped about!

'He isn't very real, ' said Ben,
'His head keeps falling off!
We need a broomstick for the neck.'
Then Shirley gave a cough;
'What if I dressed up in the suit,
That mask, to hide my face?
We'd have the best Guy in the street,
The best Guy in the place!

We laughed, and all agreed, so she
Hid in her father's shed,
Put on the suit, too long for her,
The hat just crowned her head,
We put her in the barrow then,
And pushed from street to street,
'A penny for the Guy, ' we said,
You couldn't see her feet.

A funny girl was Shirley then,
With funny little ways,
She seemed too shy to play with us
Except on certain days.
She said her father was a brute,
He'd tie her to a chair,
And once she said, 'he tied me up
And touched me - you know where! '

We didn't understand at all,
Just kids - she shrugged and sighed,
If we thought anything at all
We thought she must have lied,
For fathers didn't do those things,
We'd never heard of that,
And blushed just at the thought of it;
(She hid beneath her hat!)

That night we sneaked her on the roof
Before our folks arrived,
We didn't want them seeing her,
The Guy would look contrived;
The wood was piled up eight feet high,
We sat her at the top,
'Now don't jump up 'til they're all here,
We'll catch them on the hop! '

I'd smelt that funny smell when we
Were climbing on the pile,
We didn't know what smell it was,
Although it smelt quite vile.
But someone had poured petrol on
The wood to make it burn,
We didn't know what petrol was,
The fumes made Shirley squirm.

The fumes, they must have knocked her out
For when the folks arrived,
We waited, she should jump and shout
But she was scarce alive,
The fireworks were going off
And lighting up the sky,
I said to Ben, 'let's get her down! '
The moment passed us by.

A spark lit up the monstrous pile,
I saw Ben, looking pale
The parents down there, staring up
Just cheered, and drank their ale.
The Guy was soon a blazing torch,
I screamed, 'the Guy's a girl! '
And Ben tugged at her father's coat:
'The Guy up there is Shirl! '

Then suddenly the Guy leapt up
And screamed in pain, aloud,
The flames engulfed her as she jumped
Into the waiting crowd,
Her father caught her in his arms
Became a blazing torch,
He ran, half stumbled back with her,
Collapsed upon the porch.

They lay, two blackened corpses there
With rockets overhead,
And Catherine Wheels and Jumping Jacks
Went off as they lay dead.
We never celebrate Guy Fawkes,
That day won't go away!
I slipped that photo back into
That book, called - 'Let Us Pray! '

7 December 2009

poem by David Lewis Paget
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Girl On Fire

(the margarita horns: bill runge (baritone sax), paul baron & derry byrne (trumpets),
Tom keenlyside (tenor sax & arranger))
I just landed
Girl on fire
I felt the heat
From sydney to london
Well she shut my mouth
With her repartee
I opened hers
With the rest of me
Girl on fire
Baby burn burn burn
Girl on fire
Baby burn burn burn
Outta the shadows
Comes a dirty song
The same old faces
Try to keep you in line
I saw you laughing
At the very first show
You lit up the city
From the twenty-sixth floor
Girl on fire
Baby burn burn burn
Girl on fire
Whats saving her
Baby burn burn burn
Baby burn burn burn
Baby burn burn burn
I just landed
Girl on fire
I felt the heat
From new york to london
Well she shut my mouth
With a repartee
I opened hers
With the things that I say
Girl on fire
Thats the heat that burns
Girl on fire
How the flames make you learn
Girl on fire
Baby burn burn burn
Girl on fire
How the flames make me yearn
Girl on fire
Girl on fire
Girl on fire
Girl on girl on
Flames are rising
Flames are rising
Flames are rising
Flames are rising

song performed by by INXS
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Guy Fawkes

Guy Fawkes, the catholic conspirator, was alarming me
When he appeared in front of us all,
England did not know, England was to know
All about him, sincerely tragic.
He emerged as a conspirator, coding his soul
With gunpowder, treason and plot.
No man from Spain would be so insincere
As Guy, the mad fault of a century,
A manner of a manner, it was madness always.
Hang him for the Fifth and the Fourth,
Hang his hands and feet and quarter him!
Like he was, like we know, in the head and heart.

poem by Naveed Akram
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House Of Lords

The butler henry baker extinguishes the fires
Whilst sir fredrick harold robinson casually retires
Another day tomorrow cries alan crayon steel
All must be up early to have the morning meal
The maid comes with decanter and to the butler there
Said sir heres what you ordered ,
He said no one seems to care
It must be good to live in the house of lords
It must be good to live in the house of lords
The house is now in darkness before the coming day
But at five oclock that morning , the master passed away
The housemaid drew the curtains and the doctors watched the dawn
And the brother bendix sadly watched the gardener mow the lawn
It must be sad to live in the house of lords
It must be sad to live in the house of lords
Grandma mildred marshall was pouring out the tea
When she heard about the news of sir fredericks tragedy
The hall is now in sadness and everybody cried
On the banks of burntley river is where sir frederick lies
It must be sad to live in the house of lords
It must be sad to live in the house of lords

song performed by by Bee Gees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Embers Still Glow

Some fires still burn
long after the flames have died;
their embers still glow
after the years have flown.
It only takes a spark
to ignite an old flame
from the vault of our memories
and make love bloom again.

12 July 2012

poem by David Harris
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Siren Of Fire

Fire:
When the water turns to mist
And the flames are rising high
I'll appear to you my darling
To wipe the tears from your eyes
I'll dance around the fire pit
Running wild with the flames
But as soon as the fire is out
I'll leave you without so much as my name

Water:
When water extinguishes the flame
It will also extinguish me
I will leave you to yourself
To soak in memory
When the land is watered down
And you stand beside the sea
Look for the bonfires
For that is where you'll find me

Burned:
Don't play with fire dearest
You know you will be burned
Leave the flames to me my love
They remind me of how I've yearned
For the sensation of my fire
That keeps our passions hot
I'll stay with you until the tide comes in
But after, I cannot

Drowned:
They douse the flames with water
Putting out the light
I drown with the flames
That ensnared you all night
I cannot stay with you now
My flames have been drowned out
But remember whenever you need me
Fire will bring me about

poem by Tatianna Rei Moonshadow
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Old Flames Cant Hold A Candle To You

Downtown tonight, I saw an old friend, someone who
I use to take comfort from long before I met you
I caught a spark from his eyes of forgotten desire
With a word, or a touch, I could have rekindled that fire
Old flames cant hold a candle to you
No one can light up the night like you do
Flickering embers of love
Ive known one or two
But old flames cant hold a candle to you
Sometimes at night, I think of old lovers Ive known
I remember how holding them helped me not feel so alone
Then I feel you beside me and even their memories are gone
Like stars in the night lost in the sweet light of dawn
Old flames cant hold a candle to you
No one can light up the night like you do
Flickering embers of love
Ive known one or two
But old flames cant hold a candle to you
Old flames cant hold a candle to you
Mmmm...

song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fireworks

Once I was cold
But now I know
How a fireworks
'Cause I felt the flame
It drove me insane
Fireworks
There was this lady
Soft as as a gentle glow
She told me everything
That she knows
About fireworks
She's got fireworks
Now on the fourth of July
By the riverside
There was fireworks
And by her dark green eyes
I was hynotised
By her fireworks
She lit a fuse in the
Dark of the night
Then I got off
Like dynamite
On her fireworks
She's got fireworks
A million colors shooting
Across the sky
Moment any man
Could fantasize
Ahw.. Fireworks
Got fireworks .. Ahw..
--- Instrumental ---
Now I'm meeting her here
But she's dis-appeared
And took her fireworks
She burning up someone
With her fever and fun
And her fireworks
Some lucky man is gonna
Need her so
And when he does
I know he's gonna know
Her fireworks
She's got fireworks
Fireworks
A candle burning at both ends
Fireworks
Hotbed of coal... Ahhh..
Fireworks
Fireworks
Fire, fire
Fire, fire
Fireworks
Fireworks
Hot as coal... Ahhh..
Fireworks
Fireworks
Fire, fire
Oh, Oh,,,
Fireworks
Fireworks
Hot bed of coal...

song performed by by Alabama
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lords Glory

clap your hands and praise the lord
clap your hands and sing a song.
give thanks and praise to the one above
he has given and shown us love.

when we are down and out
he picks us up and makes us shout.
all that he asks is that we praise his name
and the change in our lives will never be the same

give of yourself all that you can give
for a better life to live.

we must live in a world where there is no fear
and the lords word is everywhere.
where people learn to respect, instead of neglect
all that god created.

this is the way it was meant to be
to live with respect and dignity.

we must praise the lords glory
and spread the word of his story.

poem by Louis Rams
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Goodbye x

As I watch the old house burn
with those feirce flames
my heart begins to pound like thunder
Screams passing threw my ears, my head
What have I done? !
I catch one more glimps
Then I ran
I ran as fast as my legs could go worried of followers, witnesses
I didnt think
I didnt know
I was Scared, Frightened! !
Turning around slowly, i see my childhood appear
Me running to the neighbours house
this is where my parents were murdered
and now i have just committed the same crime
The massive flames caught in my eye as i watch it burn
I wanted to die
I dropped
Laying there for two minutes
screaming still going threw my head
I slowly stand up
Pacing towards the house thinking, wondering
step by step i thought
then i ran in faster then the speed of light
I went
I went in the house of flames
I carried out 3 people then went back in
I searched and scanned all the room
My clothes on fire
Then i sat down quietly
i stayed there until my life was taken
Two seconds before a roar louder then a pack of lions
was my way of saying
GoodBye x

poem by MeganOlivia Maxwell
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Champagne For My Real Friends, Real Pain For My Sham Friends

You are a getaway car- a rush of blood to the head
But me, I'm just the covers on top of your bed
You steer away in a rear view mirror- you make my head swim
I keep you warm and won't ask you where you've been
With your backless black dress soaked to the skin
When it's said and down they're all scrambling
And we're friends, yeah we're friends
Just because we move units
Strike us like matches, cause everyone deserves the flames
We only do it for the scars and stories, not the fame
At least everyone else is trying, everyone else is shining
Everyone deserves the flames but it's such a shame
Such a shame
The sounds of this small town make my ears hurt
Oh yeah, you caught me. But I caught you way worse
They say, "You want a war? You've got a war."
But who are you fighting for?
The tides out, the ship's run aground
We drown traitors in shallow water

song performed by by Fall Out Boy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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King And Queen

(Justin Hayward)
It's like awaking from a dream
All I remember is a lullaby
I couldn't tell you where I've been
A thousand images just flutter by
Takin' my time
In a white limousine
If I was the King
She'd be my Queen
And my thoughts are growing louder
And my mind has lost its way
And the flames are getting higher ev'ryday
My mind is back behind my eyes
And there before me sits a butterfly
And as I watch, she gently cries (And as I watch, she gently cries)
Can there be anyone who'll pity her? (Who'll pity her?)
How many faces
Have all of you been?
If I was the King
She'd be my Queen
And my thoughts are getting louder
And my mind has lost its way
And the flames are getting higher ev'ryday
My mind is back behind my eyes
And there before me sits a butterfly
And as I watch, she gently cries (And as I watch, she gently cries)
Can there be anyone who'll pity her? (Who'll pity her?)
How many faces
Have all of you been?
If I was the King
She'd be my Queen
And my thoughts are getting louder
And my mind has lost its way
And the flames are getting higher ev'ry day
And the flames are getting higher ev'ry day
And the flames are getting higher ev'ry day
*************************************************************

song performed by by Moody Blues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Chicago Fire

On October 8th at 9 pm a fire flared from O’Leary’s farm,
In the city of Chicago, fires from hell raged at 9: 40 am when someone pulled the alarm,
Firefighters were sent out to the left when the fires flared to the right,
One flame caught onto another where screams were heard from fright,
The fires spread to houses and sheds from superheated winds,
Winds so powerful it burned through human skin,
From the West of the Chicago River it burned down the local church,
The house of God lit up in flames that in rapid pace flared and lurched,
Until it swarmed southbound to the branch of the river,
Reality was hell on earth the devastation it delivered,
With firewood packed closely next to wooden buildings the storm never calmed,
From Sunday night through Monday morning hell raged fury in napalm,
The flame got bigger and spread across the land,
While the city burned hundreds fell into the fire that ran,
A catastrophe that will forever scar Chicago land,
Fires that grabbed hundreds of innocent lives from hells hand,
Embers from the fire flooded the city streets,
Burned down buildings, houses, and the grounds beneath,
Hell on Earth the fires burned everything in sight,
The sky burned above fires that lit the night,
Firefighters tried to wash it away but couldn’t,
A natural disaster from hell that could cease but wouldn’t,
For two days the Chicago land was lit in flames,
The Great Chicago fire that destroyed the city and took names,
It was until later Monday night that drizzles from the tears in sky calmed the storm,
The beautiful Chicago city to destruction and ruin was the aftermath of transform,
The causalities claimed about 300 lives,
Where fires caught the 300 in a natural disaster comprised,
Never will Chicago forget the flames the scourged the land,
A false tale of a cow kicking over a lantern from the barn that was a scam,
The lives that ate the superheated winds when they ran,
Never will Chicago forget when hell won over the 300 lives of man.

poem by Kurt Kacich
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King & Country

All the love of my mother, I offer to you
And Ill try so very hard , to get you through
If lay down my life, for my king and country men
Would it change you for the better
It better be all right
To be always like children
Afraid of the night
If I gave up the cause , what would you give me
To make up for all the things that I would lose
If I lay down my life , for my king and country men
Would it change you for the better
It better be all right
To be always like children
Afraid of the night
Well you better get busy , get it over and done
I was here when you arrived , Ill be here when youre gone
If I give up my life for my king and country men
Would it change you for the better
It better be all right
To be never like people
Afraid of the night
Do do do , etc ... (fade out)

song performed by by Bee Gees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fire On the Ridge

In the west there is fearsome fire in the hills.
Full of dread, the people watch as flames burn upon the ridge.
Fierce winds fan the fury where the fires singe.
Meanwhile there’s hot air blasting forth from high upon the hill,
Pointless wind aimed at stirring some futile acts of men.
Strong winds fan the flames.
Embers ignite the blaze again.
While homes are lost across the land,
A burning night gives way to the dawn of restless men.
Rhetoric fails to charm while flames move across the land.
Fires burn readily across dry mountaintops.
Drought’s danger seeps down the slopes.
Now the valley too is brown and the pastures parched.
Wherever stray embers fall, fires will catch and burn
Until nowhere can they be stopped.
Will anything escape the flames fanned by these raging relentless winds?

The firemen grow weary,
They know neither sleep nor rest.
All their wisdom and efforts fail to meet the fires growing test.
They seek the help of younger men to aid them in the night,
But none can hear or heed the call; they are ensnared in some other fight.
The chief in command stands out of touch safe on the distant hill.
Insulated from the desperate fight, no fires will he end.
People in the valley see him perched emotionless and still.
If he even has a plan from this distance they can’t tell.
They fear for the safety of those who fight and for their own as well.
They fear the loss of all they love and treasure beyond price.
The fields once waved golden and valleys were lush with finest fruits.
The harvest, which they toiled toward, is in peril of being lost.
Will fires claim the victory and devour all they cherish?
Or will they rise against the blaze, fighting fire with fire, before they perish?
Through night a western ridge stays lit, while across this land no one dare now rest.

poem by Mary Havran
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The Maiden and the Flames

She was scarcely twenty one
on the day the Reaper came.
A writer of great promise;
Toru Dutt was her name.

Bengali was her native tongue,
but only just her first.
She had conversed in German,
written French and English verse.

Now she lay silent, dressed in white
in the company of flowers.
A shame it was a funeral pyre
and not her wedding bower.

Her sister, overcome with grief,
Her Parents both the same.
Her sad eyed father lit the torch
and consigned her to the flames.

How quickly did those flames consume
the girl who lived to write.
Her dust was carried on the winds
from the sacrificial site.

The beauty of her verse endures
and will preserve her name.
That's all that could be salvaged
of the maiden from the flames.

poem by John F. McCullagh
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