Cultivated Constraints
Cultivated constraints render revolt in the adolescents mind
Wasted in play the day dissolves into a solution sweet yet hard to find.
Whispering winds toy upon the Joy of greeting those they meet.
Within the dale long forgotten souls beat the ground with defenceless feet.
Glaring through the window pane Apollo’s light seeks no refrain
There lay a child, born wild into the seduction of his mother’s breast
Lay to rest the child who will grow naught but weary within this dread reality of ours.
Awake yet constantly dreaming we’re coming close to knowledge of reality.
Amongst the glories of wisdoms ancient our souls are pastured
Grace follows cosmic rhythms in pace as above a flock of blackbirds
Swift in formation, beneath a sparkling sky, dance a dance in meditation.
Consider the muse born of harmony aloft the winds of the songs that dreamers sing.
Woodland nymphs frolic throughout the country side
As urban jungles bellow Serpents of smoke into a cradle sky,
They’re suffocating us – we the infants of the fruit tree.
poem by David Lacey
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The Moulting Cage
The Moulting Cage hath fastened yet I feel as though I fly
Free from the guilt of a burdening reality.
My arms demand movement to the rhyme
Sweet Ecstasy entices me to dance her circle
She says take a chance on me, I’ll set you free
As you walk amongst the ancient trees, Ah Sweet Ecstasy.
Upon the whispering winds fly the cries of demented hounds
They seek to ground us with their claws
They seek to close tight the doors of perception
They seek to know you as you would never know yourself
They seek to place fairytale wisdoms upon the shelf.
poem by David Lacey
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Dance with Me in The Key of Life
Holding the strings of vibes
We move to dance of life
When I look I see your essence
In space now empty
Quiet where the shout of whisper
Voice unheard in heart beats
Come here and dance
Hear the song of my mind
Dance to my beat in life
Let me hold you close to me
I feel my song is you
I want to sing you play to you
My beautiful song you be
Let me turn you
In step with my life
Move with me to music of life
Dance to pain of life
To joy of reality
The song for us to dance
Your moans of pleasure
Move me to love you
I now want to dance with you
Our finger touch our lip meet
Kissing to beats of jazz before
The blue come down on my soul
On I am coming to be true
To need what you be for me
Let just dance to our song
What the matter I’m the same as
Before your beats is my beat
Come dance with me come need me
I wait for you to know
I am for you only
Dance come dance your story with me
Move to life up and down
Dance with me I need you to dance
The dance of life in song of love
poem by George Jerone Jefferson
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Why Is It Silent This Ocean Of Souls?
The circle is turning its seventh wheel
And reality is breaking at its boundaries
Small worlds are colliding once more
Upon the tapestry unfolding
And we are to set our sails for new horizons
We are to set sail in search of a home we have never known.
Where are the birds of morning’s song?
Why is it silent this ocean of souls?
I shall ask the elders….
Allow your heart to smile
Allow your friends to sing
And dance, go dance just for a while
And know the love you bring.
Her eyes they shone a diamond mile
Below the moon a lamplight flickering between island clouds
I asked her to dance just for a while
And then I lost her in the crowd.
Moralities rotten, inhibition forgotten,
The dance is led, wild and fed upon the souls of the dead still dreaming.
Where are we now to turn?
Where now for us to run?
Now that they burn our books
And chase the innocent down
Vermin flesh torn by vermin hounds
The purple journey leads my soul
Through the void to make me whole
The purple journey bends my mind
It leaves me lost and hard to find.
It stirs within the forest night
It stirs within the nightmare
It stirs within the burning light
It stirs within all we share.
poem by David Lacey
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Dance Dance Dance
After six hours of school I've had enough for the day
I hit the radio dial and turn it up all the way
I gotta dance (dance dance dance now the beat's really hot) right on the spot
(Dance dance dance right there on the spot)
The beat's really hot
(Dance dance dance now the beat's really hot)
Dance (dance) dance (dance) dance (dance) yeah!
When I feel put down I try to shake it off quick
With my guy by my side the radio does the trick
I wanna dance (dance dance dance now the beat's really hot) right on the spot
(Dance dance dance right there on the spot)
The beat's really hot
(Dance dance dance now the beat's really hot)
Dance (dance) dance (dance) dance (dance) yeah!
At a weekend dance we like to show up late
I play it cool when it's slow and jump it when it's fast
I gotta dance (dance dance dance now the beat's really hot) right on the spot
(Dance dance dance right there on the spot)
The beat's really hot
(Dance dance dance now the beat's really hot)
Dance (dance) dance (dance) dance (dance) yeah!
(Dance dance dance now the beat's really hot)
(Dance dance dance right there on the spot)
(Dance dance dance now the beat's really hot)
Dance (dance) dance (dance) dance (dance) yeah!
(Dance dance dance now the beat's really hot)
(Dance dance dance right there on the spot)
song performed by by Wilson Phillips
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When A Child Is Born
A ray of hope flickers in the sky
A tiny star lights up way up high
All across the land dawns a brand new morn'
This comes to pass
When a child is born
A silent wish sails the seven seas
The winds of change whisper in the trees
And the walls of doubt crumble, tossed and torn
This comes to pass
When a child is born
A rosey hue settles all around
You got the feel, you're on solid ground
For a spell or two no-one seems forlorn
This comes to pass
When a child is born
And all of this happens because the world is waiting
Waiting for one child, black, white, yellow - no one knows
But a child that will grow up and turn tears to laughter
Hate to love, war to peace and everyone to everyone's neighbour
And misery and suffering will be words to be forgotten, forever
It's all a dream, an illusion now
It must come true sometime soon somehow
All across the land dawns a brand new morn'
This comes to pass
When a child is born
This comes to pass
When - a child - is bor-or-orn...
Is bor-or-orn...
Is born...
song performed by by Kenny Rogers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dance
dance the river is there to rise
dance touch me and close your eyes
dance the winds will touch your feet
just dance and dance feel the beat
dance the river will find its mouth
dance east and west north and south
dance the river will find my lips
dance the poles to move my hips
dance the bees are dancing hives
dance the trees are swaying lives
dance the waves are breaking through
dance the sides for me and you
dance the birds are dancing flights
dance the stars are dancing nights
dance the currents dancing veins
dance in soils dancing grains
dance the last atom cutting a knot
just dance and dance until you cannot
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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American Child
I was ten, I was thin,
I was playing first base
With a secondhand glove
And dirt on my face
In nowhere, Virginia
Who'd ever figure that kid in the yard
Would go very far
It was 419 Lakewood ,
had no silverspoons
Just an old beat up upright
that played out of tune
Now I'm singin' and living the life that I love
And when I count my blessings
I thank God I was an American child
An American child
'Cause dreams can grow wild
Born inside an American child
Seven pounds, three ounces,
She's got my nose
And she's into my heart as deep as it goes
With a promise that's more
Than just someone's last name
Anyone's equal, in late August came
An American child
An American child
'Cause dreams can grow wild
Born inside an American child
My grandfather would have been eighty today
But in '45 he fell down beside
An American child
An American child
Oh, an American child
'Cause dreams can grow wild born inside
An American child
song performed by by Phil Vassar
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When A Child Is Born
A ray of hope flitters in the sky
A shiny star lights up way up high
All across the land dawns a brand new morn
This comes to pass when a child is born
A silent wish sails the seven seas
The winds have changed whisperin the trees
And the walls of doubt crumble tossed and torn
This comes to pass when a child is born
A rosy fume settles all around
Youve got the feel youre on solid ground
For a spell or two no-one seems forlorn
This comes to pass when a child is born
(spoken)
And all of this happened
Because whe world is waiting
Waiting for one child
Black, white, yellow, no one knows
But a child that would grow up and turn tears to laughter
Hate to love, war to peace
And everyone to everyones neighbour
Misery and suffering would be forgotten forever
Its all a dream and illusion now
It must come true, sometimes soon somehow
All across the land dawns a brand new morn
This comes to pass when a child is born
All across the land dawns a brand new morn
This comes to pass when a child is born
When a child is born
song performed by by Boney M.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Child Is Sweet Any Day Of The Week
A child that's born on a Monday
holds beauty in sight and mind.
A child that's born on a Tuesday
is graceful, sweet and kind.
A child that's born on a Wednesday
is a treasure, so they say.
A child that 's born on a Thursday
sees a quest with each new day.
A child that's born on a Friday
is loving and freely gives.
A child that's born on a Saturday
shows great work through how they live.
A child that's born on a Sunday
is happy, carefree and gay.
I guess you could say that a child is
special, no matter what the day.
poem by Christine K. Trease
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Christmas Morning
The angel host that sped last night,
Bearing the wondrous news afar,
Came in their ever-glorious flight
Unto a slumbering little star.
'Awake and sing, O star!' they cried.
'Awake and glorify the morn!
Herald the tidings far and wide--
He that shall lead His flock is born!'
The little star awoke and sung
As only stars in rapture may,
And presently where church bells hung
The joyous tidings found their way.
'Awake, O bells! 't is Christmas morn--
Awake and let thy music tell
To all mankind that now is born
What Shepherd loves His lambkins well!'
Then rang the bells as fled the night
O'er dreaming land and drowsing deep,
And coming with the morning light,
They called, my child, to you asleep.
Sweetly and tenderly they spoke,
And lingering round your little bed,
Their music pleaded till you woke,
And this is what their music said:
'Awake and sing! 'tis Christmas morn,
Whereon all earth salutes her King!
In Bethlehem is the Shepherd born.
Awake, O little lamb, and sing!'
So, dear my child, kneel at my feet,
And with those voices from above
Share thou this holy time with me,
The universal hymn of love.
poem by Eugene Field
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A Droplets Ripple In The Ocean
Having chased Knowledge down and feasted upon her dissected corpse
They are left awaiting the flavour of Wisdoms flesh.
Never to know that they are wishing for tomorrows sorrow today
They are as cursing themselves with the words they say.
The past is before us now as clear as an azure sky
The future untold behind us as we try within the present to rise
And through contemplation may we know the secret surprise
That awaits us at the moment of descent when we die.
A droplets ripple in the ocean is felt in the smile of a child’s emotion
And we are heard, our voices echoing throughout the stars
And unknown gods behold the wisdom of our ancients
Upon the breeze moving tenderly through celestial mansions.
They hear the songs we sing, they know too well of the love we bring
They know to that we are as wingless angels willing to rise
Dreamers unwilling to close our eyes to the reality that we were born to fly.
poem by David Lacey
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Song of The Stream-Drops
By silent forest and field and mossy stone,
We come from the wooden hill, and we go to the sea.
We labour, and sing sweet songs, but we never moan,
For our mother, the sea, is calling us cheerily.
We have heard her calling us many and many a day
From the cool grey stones and the white sands far away.
The way is long, and winding and slow is the track,
The sharp rocks fret us, the eddies bring us delay,
But we sing sweet songs to our mother, and answer her back;
Gladly we answer our mother, sweetly repay.
Oh, we hear, we hear her singing wherever we roam,
Far, far away in the silence, calling us home.
Poor mortal, your ears are dull, and you cannot hear;
But we, we hear it, the breast of our mother abeat;
Low, far away, sweet and solemn and clear,
Under the hush of the night, under the noon-tide heat:
And we sing sweet songs to our mother, for so we shall please her best,
Songs of beauty and peace, freedom and infinite rest.
We sing, and sing, through the grass and the stones and the reeds,
And we never grow tired, though we journey ever and aye,
Dreaming, and dreaming, wherever the long way leads,
Of the far cool rocks and the rush of the wind and the spray.
Under the sun and the stars we murmur and dance and are free,
And we dream and dream of our mother, the width of the sheltering sea.
poem by Archibald Lampman
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The Unappeasable Host
THE Danaan children laugh, in cradles of wrought gold,
And clap their hands together, and half close their eyes,
For they will ride the North when the ger-eagle flies,
With heavy whitening wings, and a heart fallen cold:
I kiss my wailing child and press it to my breast,
And hear the narrow graves calling my child and me.
Desolate winds that cry over the wandering sea;
Desolate winds that hover in the flaming West;
Desolate winds that beat the doors of Heaven, and beat
The doors of Hell and blow there many a whimpering ghost;
O heart the winds have shaken, the unappeasable host
Is comelier than candles at Mother Mary's feet.
poem by William Butler Yeats
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They Dance Circles in Descent.
Tribal rhythms pulsate within my soul,
Echoes waver of life’s long since passed,
I sigh within the moment.
They dance circles in descent.
These unknown creatures
Mimicking angels in formation,
Cascade as water flows
Pure and clear in harmony.
The tears of the world are pooled,
As ambient flutes sound from the
Dark forests of nightshades mask.
Still the cascade continues,
Thousands upon thousands,
Tonnes upon tonnes of purity
In an ever ceaseless flow.
What elaborate beauty is this?
What a grace to have viewed
Glory such as this within the
Sanctuary of my soul.
Clear waters pass below,
Pastures green stretch unto
The distance as ancient trees,
Fountains of secret wisdoms
As they are, keep close eyes upon
Movements within the valley.
Thunder is heard upon the skylines,
The chainsaw roars,
Our most ancient wisdoms are lost.
The natives of the world sigh in unison
Holding on in the moment of descent,
Crying for the future, mourning Mother Nature,
Seeking a truth no soul could resent.
poem by David Lacey
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Cocoon Born
Never have I hear a Blackbirds song so sweet.
Never have I had the ground unhinge beneath my feet,
Awaiting suspension between the plains of existence,
One as all the same.
Form, Un-form.
Cocoon born.
No one ever warned us that we would one day grow our wings.
Morning bird takes the child unheard shaken from his dreams
Movement in the herd portrays a portrait to which all's not as it seems.
Nestle to the pillow, Close your windows open dreams.
poem by David Lacey
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Little Moccasins
Come out, O Little Moccasins, and frolic on the snow!
Come out, O tiny beaded feet, and twinkle in the light!
I'll play the old Red River reel, you used to love it so:
Awake, O Little Moccasins, and dance for me to-night!
Your hair was all a gleamy gold, your eyes a corn-flower blue;
Your cheeks were pink as tinted shells, you stepped light as a fawn;
Your mouth was like a coral bud, with seed pearls peeping through;
As gladdening as Spring you were, as radiant as dawn.
Come out, O Little Moccasins! I'll play so soft and low,
The songs you loved, the old heart-songs that in my mem'ry ring;
O child, I want to hear you now beside the campfire glow!
With all your heart a-throbbing in the simple words you sing.
For there was only you and I, and you were all to me;
And round us were the barren lands, but little did we fear;
Of all God's happy, happy folks the happiest were we. . . .
(Oh, call her, poor old fiddle mine, and maybe she will hear!)
Your mother was a half-breed Cree, but you were white all through;
And I, your father was -- but well, that's neither here nor there;
I only know, my little Queen, that all my world was you,
And now that world can end to-night, and I will never care.
For there's a tiny wooden cross that pricks up through the snow:
(Poor Little Moccasins! you're tired, and so you lie at rest.)
And there's a grey-haired, weary man beside the campfire glow:
(O fiddle mine! the tears to-night are drumming on your breast.)
poem by Robert William Service
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Eternity
I am a tree amongst many- I once believed in giving, not taking,
Only dreaming of being a lithe spirit, capable of being reborn in
Any place and time, a soul loved by all, never to be forgotten,
Never would hurt, tell untruths, or to betray…
As would a gull soaring above the ocean nearly touching the sun,
To welcome the dawning of a new day, or the first blossoming tree in the spring,
Amongst a garden of roses and to behold a herd of deer
Dashing through the woodlands at the dusk of the evening?
I am amongst many dreamers born, not only in blatant reality,
None but a worshiper of nature- The sun has risen and set for an eternity-
I remain alone a spirit giving nothing but love and rebirth in any place
Close to all that is natural and created alone by God-
All that is truthful and all that brings joy, bounty and harmony to the woodlands
That defines purity and eternal life and rebirth of
All that evolves from the heart of the living-
I am a soul of God given grace untouched and unspoiled-
I call myself a shade-giving flower bearing tree-
I am proud to have brought adoration and honesty to our planet-
God granted miracles have preserved this world for eons,
Even in the darkness of night- the moon is full,
Shining its light through the purple-hued sky…
I am a tree amongst many, with so much goodness at heart,
Giving so many splendors to fantasize and so much bliss in reality-
I have made this world a kingdom of nature so much to dream of, and
So much more- never to be lost or forgotten-
I would grow until I touched the sky if I could-
Some say this world shall come to an end but I shall
Stand proud, tall and joyfully spreading life, grace and well-being
Throughout this magnificent universe-
I am a tree with a soul, bearing flowers in the springtime and
Giving fruit in the summer, feeding the hungry and giving shade to the homeless-
In my heart, this world shall rule the universe for an eternity-
I am a tree that shall never stop growing and
As long as trees are growing, deer are running freely and the
Sun rises daily over the mountains near the horizon-
This world shall never perish…
poem by Claudia Krizay
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Come Out, Come Out
Come out, come out, ye souls that serve, why will ye die?
or will ye sit and stifle in your prison-homes
dreaming of some master that holds the winds in leash
and the waves of darkness yonder in the gaunt hollow of night?
nay, there is none that rules: all is a strife of the winds
and the night shall billow in storm full oft ere all be done.
For this is the hard doom that is laid on all of you,
to be that whereof ye dream, dreaming against your will.
But first ye must travel the many ways, and your close-wrapt souls
must be blown thro' with the rain that comes from the homeless dark:
for until ye have had care of the wastes there shall be no truce
for them nor you, nor home, but ever the ancient feud;
and the soul of man must house the cry of the darkling waves
as he follows the ridge above the waters shuddering to-wards night,
and the rains and the winds that roam anhunger'd for some heart's warmth.
Go: tho' ye find it bitter, yet must ye be bare
to the wind and the sea and the night and the wail of birds in the sky;
go: tho' the going be hard and the goal blinded with rain
yet the staying is a death that is never soften'd with sleep.
poem by Christopher John Brennan
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To Not Write An Essential Part Of Ourselves
dissatisfaction with how little one has achieved
may produce sharp urges to produce achieve
minds insight driven by internal expression need
to not write an essential part of ourselves
is to fail an essential need in our life purpose
to fail to express line sweet unique thought
individualistic within our strung souls
which should thus be sung upon the winds
of time in poems, essays, short stories,
novels, which are born upon swift rivers
of time to echo intriguing questions
into the soul of demanding curiosities
need and knowledge's required
instinctive understanding impels
tuned souls to reflect rhythms
spirit of age lived in a momentous
revelation insight in grains of sand
released through fingers onto winds
blowing echo chime thoughts
into receptive porous melting minds
awaiting candle lit illuminations
such minds will mute die of non-expressions
a new diagnosis in ancient self discoveries
timeless echoes forth ageless dawn ceremonies
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Dance Like No One's Watching
Dance like no one's watching
Feel the rhythm, Match the pace
Let the air fan your face
Forget about your sorrow
As if there's no tomorrow....
Dance like no one's watching....
Bend your body, Tap your feet
Listen to your own heartbeat
Sense your mind's pleasure
Which you cannot measure
Dance like no one's watching....
Let your soul laugh and cry
Till your throat runs dry
Feel the tiny beads of sweat
No No! Do Not Rest!
Dance like no one's watching.....
Let the music lead you
Where ever it wants to
And very soon you will possess
Some kind of golden happiness
Dance like no one's watching.....
Feel the life of eternity
Before coming back to reality
See your body's inner peace
And then only you will finish
The Dance that no one was watching
poem by Kaavyaa Kriday
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