The Night Is A Wild Beast Foaming
The night is a wild beast foaming at the teeth
The crescent moon a Cheshire cats smile
Keeping lunar illumination upon the clouds that pass on by.
The stars are pin prick holes in a shroud of death
Promising life upon the other side of the new day dawning.
As rising – re born from the ashes of the past
The solar phoenix is bursting forth upon the skylines of another realm
Here it is darkness – void – the abyss.
Here I find myself tangled within a web of delusional love
Missing the dream of kissing you
At the mercy of brutal and ruthless killers below
Those that cling to the memory of the shadow.
The river has burst its banks
The city is dying
Disease is eating away at the flesh of those breathing stagnant air.
Mothers are seeking there children in pits of tar
Fathers are slaying there Fathers in a motion to rise
Where are the children?
Those bright eyed starry gazed children, half crazed and rotting in the lair of the piper.
Maggots are nesting in the eyes of those still crying
As Mothers sigh, holding tightly in their arms the grey shades of still born babes.
What God will save them now?
What spirit of the forest night will rise to save those
That in their consumption of nature oppose the life of beauty incarnate.
What does a mirror look like?
If that clocks wrong, what’s right?
poem by David Lacey
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Related quotes
There Are No Children Here
The untrained eye
Walks down the street
And sees children
But they're not children
There are no children here
Adults look back
With hungry eyes
And someone thinks
''They're just children
With a mother and a father
Never any fear''
And they kid themselves
As there are no mothers
No fathers
Because there are no children here
Terror doesn't care
As they cry over there
It lets someone stare
Through the sight of a gun
Seeing everyone
And just for fun
Shoot them
People rush around crying
''But they were just children!
They were just children! ''
A man with a gun
Turns and runs
But as he does they hear
''They aren't children''
And
''They weren't children''
And
''You need to know:
There are no children here''
No one makes a sound
Listening to the truth he's found
And they know:
It's our fault
We didn't save them
We could have saved them
If we cared
There would be children here
poem by Violet Llewellyn
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Bedtime Story
The moon lies on the river
like a drop of oil.
The children come to the banks to be healed
of their wounds and bruises.
The fathers who gave them their wounds and bruises
come to be healed of their rage.
The mothers grow lovely; their faces soften,
the birds in their throats awake.
They all stand hand in hand
and the trees around them,
forever on the verge
of becoming one of them,
stop shuddering and speak their first word.
But that is not the beginning.
It is the end of the story,
and before we come to the end,
the mothers and fathers and children
must find their way to the river,
separately, with no one to guide them.
That is the long, pitiless part,
and it will scare you.
poem by Lisel Mueller
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The Shower Bathe
To the mothers of your mothers and,
To the fathers of your fathers;
For i am here like one of the children of your children,
So don't see my disability and run away! !
For i am the one for your true heart.
Come to me and marry me,
And come and help me find a way in life;
For this world is full of surprises.
Please do not dropp me like the toilet roll,
For i am deep rooted in your love!
And, don't throw me away like the water from the shower bathe.
This poem is to search and to watch your status,
For i prefer to sleep my mind on a clean subject;
And to wake up fresh once again,
For i was not the first to clean your past.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Children Need Their Fathers
The mothers are now saying,
Their children need their fathers.
But weren't they they ones,
Who kept the fathers away?
And had the law hunt them down...
After having the courts chase they,
With warnings to keep their distance...
From these same children,
The mothers are saying...
Need their fathers!
And the fathers...
Who have discovered a peace of mind,
Are no longer trying to find excuses...
Why their fatherless children,
Seem to be out of their minds.
No matter who tries,
To blame their lack of discipline...
With no respect to others to show or give,
And put this on their shoulders...
To claim this is a reaction to their absence.
People who make decisions with ignorance,
Are always guaranteed to put their activities...
In the path of someone else to fault and shame!
'How many children raised by their mothers,
Compared to those raised by their fathers...
Have issues of discipline?
Or sit in prisons?
As a direct result of those who have created,
This statistic...
As if it had developed on its own!
Like hunger, homelessness and racism.'
~Excuse me?
I think you are looking for the excelerated classrooms.
You've stepped into a remedial one,
By mistake.~
'I'm sorry.
I was getting eye contact.
And immediately I thought they were paying attention.
Where are the excelerated classrooms? '
~Up those stairs, take a right...
And they will be the ones,
Where the light is shining bright.
You will not miss them.~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Wishing And Willing..
When the baby kicks in the womb,
A few parents touch to have the kick,
Most mothers excited, while the fathers too,
A few miss this opportunity as not bothered to,
The crying of the babies never fails to wake up,
The loving hearts of the mother and father,
The crying of the mothers never fails to shaken up,
The young hearts of children, who see the rift,
Hearts of children love their mother,
As it listened to her beats day and night,
Hearts of children are attracted to the mother,
As she is the one, who listens to their blabber,
The crying of babies never fails to wake up the mother,
The crying of mothers never fails to shaken up the children.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Online II
Unmarried fathers,
Unmarried mothers,
And, children are born left and right! !
But, who is now online?
Babies,
With unmarried fathers and unmarried mothers;
Babies,
With married fathers and married mothers;
But, this issue is now investigated with care,
Because, other accessibilities are now found at various locations!
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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We Are The Children
We are the children of the sun
and the stars.
We are the children of the hippies,
who were strung out on peace and love,
and heroin when they conceived us.
We are the children of alcoholics,
conceived in blackouts.
We are the children of the punk rockers,
screwed into this world on beer and anger.
We are the children of the poor,
raised on welfare and food stamps,
and government housing.
We are the children of the middle class,
borrowing from the government to get a college degree,
to get a job with a pension from corporate amerika,
who has already fired our fathers and mothers,
before they could retire.
We are the children of the rich,
who, like our fathers and mothers before us,
care only about obtaining more wealth.
We are the children of the doctors, dentists,
and lawyers, who care more about their Porsches
and Mercedes than they do their patients.
We are the children of the American dream,
roaming the streets with a blanket,
and a garbage bag full of aluminum cans.
We are the children, who now have the children,
and we hope they won't learn racism from us,
like we learned it from our moms and dads.
We are the children who can change the inevitable,
alter our destiny, change the future from futile to
fruitful.
Amen.
poem by Mikel K Poet
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We Shall Rise
(traditional/emmylou harris)
In that resurrection morning
When the trumpet of God shall sound
We shall rise, (hallelujah) we shall rise.
Then the saints will come rejoicing and
No tears will eer be found
We shall rise, (hallelujah) we shall rise.
We shall rise, (hallelujah) we shall rise (amen)
We shall rise, (hallelujah)
In that resurrection morning
When these prison bars are broken
We shall rise, (hallelujah) we shall rise.
In that resurrection morning
When the shades of life has fled
We shall rise, (hallelujah) we shall rise.
In the day of glory dawning when the sea
Gives up his dead
We shall rise, (hallelujah) we shall rise.
I shall see my blessed savior
Who so freely died for me
We shall rise, (hallelujah) we shall rise.
And our fathers and our mothers and our
Loved ones we shall see
We shall rise, (hallelujah) we shall rise.
song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Darkness Envelopes Her
This night banshee's herald death upon the moment of twilights touch.
Seeking solace in the arms of wisdom are we to be left beyond reproach?
Darkness envelopes her, swallowing the days descent
The blade she holds, formed of a shamans dream is shimmering
Dark light for a dark knights purpose, she rides to rise and
As she drifts throughout ethereal glades, moving in time with the shadows performing
She is the storm of midnights howling, she is the silhouette against the moon
Shrieking her laments in a monsoon torrent of tears.
Darkness envelopes her, smothering the memories that once kept her sane.
The heat of the night is as Nile desert air and moving upon its currents
Are strange and wondrous creatures, merging the past into the present.
Who are these creatures she asks?
These souls seeking towards a face amongst the faceless.
Tears shed in a moment of remorse are swelling,
What story are they telling?
Distant starlight burns away the memories of reflection upon looking glass eyes
How strange it is that the hours they pass only to be forgotten.
Come laugh with me sometime, come be fresh amongst the rotten.
Adorned in the feathers of elder gods we may amount the pyramid rising from blood soaked sand.
Dreams forgotten within the twilight of memory
They await the motion of the moment to sway them.
The city shall take no pity on them
As they writhe, lithe and breathing agony.
What horrors await unknown?
She sleeps within the shadow of herself.
She is an Idol in death, a decomposing Christ child in the summer heat.
Maggots are breeding in her body dying, feeding upon the source of life.
Bound within an asylum built upon foundation insecurities
How am I to gain confidence in the smile that shines a diamond mile.
An Indian Summer is rising
Small worlds are colliding
In the arms of the one they love
Souls are entwining as the threads of destiny untold.
poem by David Lacey
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Lockjaw
Look out children
Mothers hide all the children who lie
Lockjaws coming with a rusty nail
Hes gonna nail your mouth open wide
Look out children
Boys and girls who do falsify
From the black forest with a hammerhead
Hes looking for you with a rusty eye
In the black forest, lives an ogre named lockjaw. lockjaw doesnt like children
Who tell lies. late at night he stalks the houses of the fibbers and the
Falsifiers, and before they can cry out from their beds, he nails their jaws
Open with a rusty nail, using his head for a hammer. you may escape him for a
While and think you fooled him, but hell get you in the end. hell get ya!
Hell get ya!!
Lockjaws coming
Hide your heads, all you lying children
Mothers hide all your lying children
Fathers hide all your lying children
Look out mothers
Telling lies to a gullible child
Lockjaws coming with a rusty nail
Hegonna nail your mouth open wide
Look out fathers
Teachers and leaders who do falsify
From the black forest with a hammerhead
Hes looking for you with a rusty eye
Many people wonder could such a terrible tail be true? who would make up such
A terrible tale? it seems such a cruel punishment for such a tiny little lie.
Well, Ive got to confess. its a fib. I made it up myself. its pretty funny,
Dont you think? ha, ha ha! gag, gag, gag!!!
song performed by by Todd Rundgren
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Lost Mothers...
not all mothers nurture
some have also lost their kind ways
their children neglected
others given away
nature has a way of creating
deviant mothers
those who prefer their men
rather than their children
those that slap innocence
those that sell those buds of beauty
before they ever bloom
those that lead them to perdition
but just the same
all are forgotten and forgiven
mothers too commit mistakes
humans as they are
too like everyone
happy mothers' day just the same
from your faithful and forgiving children
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Are the Children Alright
In the root zone
The children are camouflaged
In the zone of the sun’s light
The children are building industries
In the zone of bones
The children are mining their flesh
So full of sorrow for the fathers
Whose ignorance has spent
The strength of their muscles
On the wages paid beneath
The shadow of commerce
In the war zone
The children are catching bomb
With their skin and they dream
Of how with ease is dying done
In the zone of the moment
The children are counting
The thin dogs running wild
In the wilderness on the out skirt of town
In the comfort zone
The children are cautious
Of fathers who whisper
Familiarity of the beauty sons
In the zone of disbelief
The children are straining
To hear the echo of a mystery
Told about the current constellations
When the children were gathering
In squalor beneath the journey
That has taken control of them
As an unsettled melody
In the zone of the market place
The children are faceless laborers
Fearless and faultless of the wars
For food we wage
In the zone of hunger
The children are bloated
To their bones
Their skin drapes
The flies drink from their eyes
In the zone of urgency
The children are baring weapons
At sunrise and putting on
A grown up’s uniforms
poem by David E. Patton
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My Spirit
I have often felt alone and foreign
Within this place or world everyone calls home-
Perhaps a part of me had died many years back- although
My spirit lives on and looks upward towards the sky, past midnight
Perhaps to awaken in some other realm- Alive and unafraid,
I see the stars brightly shining against the midnight sky,
Far away but close to me in a unique way-
The rings of Saturn intrigue me and inside of the world of my dreams,
I have become as a dove, lifting my wings
To fly as I continue my fight to
Find a place in this world, as my spirit attentively watches over me-
It has been said that everyone is born with a spirit inside-
I was born with a mind, confused, frightened and divided- although
I was born with a spirit that is strong, brave and wise-
I lift my wings and fly, following the direction my spirit, as
My spirit is my only hope- My hope to find a life for myself.
Free from the apparition of the nightmares of my past-
Inside of my mind I know that if I follow the direction that
My spirit takes- enlightened by the sun, the moon and the stars-
Perhaps in the fondest of dreams, I will reawaken and fly away from my fears, and
Find a place in this world-After all, the stars, the moon and other planets
Are far away, in another realm, and unreachable.
The beauty of a spirit is that it never dies, and as my friend it will always be there,
Watching over me protecting me from harm as
I awaken in rebirth from the horrors of my past and from a distance in thought
I can still follow the mystical beauty
Of the moon and the stars in the midnight sky above me
And I know now that when clouds cover the sky and darkness prevails-
The sun shall always rise, I have found peace of mind, and my spirit lives on…
poem by Claudia Krizay
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The Solar Disc Inferno
The moon is a sliver plate upon the table of the night
The solar disc inferno is raging above some far off distant land.
The air is warmer that it was before
But still biting with icicle tongue
And we the young
We are aging
The pages of history are turning
And over new and distant horizons the sun is rising
On the world ever lost in spiralling creation
No one moment can exist into the next
But we may slide, graciously at times
Into the abyss and return with the knowledge of love
Through the gateway to the kingdom of shades we stride
Holding high our heads with pride in the knowledge that we seek the light divine.
In the eyes of the one you love the sacred is to be found
In the smile of a child is the wonder of the universe unfolding.
All around us lay the keys to the kingdom and all we can do
Is bind in chains of delusional logic of disguised blood lust instinct.
Ah the Western World
Great monster Incarnate
Industrial Devil of forked and poisonous tongue
Hounding on the young defenceless who can not live within your walls.
Leading them to the supposed sanctuary of barbaric asylums.
They are falling, the young into tunnels of confusion,
Running alike rats in a laboratory maze.
Half crazed with the notion that emotion is a lie.
Here I am, kissing the sky at night
Knowing that beyond the clouds a new and distant heaven awaits
Beyond the gateway to the kingdom of shades.
Beyond the fear of fading
We are real
We are alive
Here
Now
Can you feel it?
poem by David Lacey
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The Answer
Men and boys, O fathers, brothers,
Burst these fetters round you bound.
Women, sisters, wives and mothers,
Lift your faces from the ground!
O Democracy, O People,
East and West and North and South,
Rise together, one for ever,
Strike this Crime upon the mouth!
Bid them not, the men who loved you,
Those who fought for you and died,
Scorn you that you broke a small Crime,
Left a great Crime pass in pride!
England, France, the played-out countries,
Let them reek there in their stew,
Let their past rot out their present,
But the Future is with you!
O America, O first-born
Of the age that yet shall be
Where all men shall be as one man,
Noble, faithful, fearless, free! —
O America, O paramour
Of the foul slave-owner Pelf,
You who saved from slavery others,
Now from slavery save yourself! —
Save yourself, though, anguish-shaken,
You cry out and bow your head,
Crying 'Why am I forsaken?'
Crying 'It is finishèd!'
Save yourself, no God will save you;
Not one angel can he give!
They and He are dead and vanished,
And 'tis you, 'tis you must live!
Risen again, fire-tried, victorious,
From the grave of Crime down-hurled,
Peerless, pure, serene and glorious,
Wield the sceptre of the world!
poem by Francis William Lauderdale Adams
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The Patteran
From over the leagues of ice and snow, and the miles of scorching sand;
From back of the days of long ago, and the lonely sea and land—
To the end of the world and our Gipsy race, to the death of our dark-eyed line,
I have set the lines on my children’s palms as my fathers did on mine,
That the world shall know and my name shall glow in the light of the aftershine—
I have set the lines on my children’s palms as my fathers did on mine.
I have given them health and strength, pure blood, clear skins for a glorious youth;
I have set in their souls contempt for sham, and a deathless regard for truth;
I have bequeathed the spirit to fight, I have given the will to rise,
And the slumbering fires of Hate and Love in their dreaming, dreaming eyes.
That the world shall know and my name shall glow in the light of the aftershine,
I have set the lines on my children’s palms as my fathers did on mine.
I have given the love for their native land, wherever that land may be
(My children came from the East, my friends, and round by the Northern Sea),
And a son of a son of mine enemy, to the end of his treacherous line,
Shall be stricken to earth, if he dare but speak, by a son of a son of mine.
That the world shall know and my name shall glow in the light of the aftershine,
I have set the lines on my children’s palms as my fathers did on mine.
poem by Henry Lawson
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The Temple Of Our Crown
Idols of death promise wisdom within the bliss of sleep,
We dream not for we are awake
I stand not for I am shaking
Awaiting grim realities to take on hold of me
Prizing sanity from my grasp
Clasping tight around the boundaries of my asylum love.
Horned spirits of the fabric night are rising
Promising wisdom alongside the kiss of death.
Sleep until the morning breaks
Feel the sun and rise awake.
College girls drive wild the lust of the poet in pain
Be my world, can you trust me, is this a face you can but your faith in?
We are as children bearing candlelight
Forming shadows as we dance
We are as children of the fragrant night
Chancing upon the movement at hand
Chancing upon a lance hope of revolution.
Piercing the skin of virgin flesh
Penetrating with insatiable lust the girls who trust us so.
Promises of false hope are scattered amongst the ruins of the fallen city.
Take no pity on me, I don't need sympathy
I need a friend who can make me happy
Even when I believe that all is misery
I need a friend who can make me smile
I need a friend who can make whole my soul for a while.
The temple of our crown lay in disorder, chaos fueling anarchy
Insane contortions parade upon the streets
Still this orgy of sweating flesh breathes a fresher breath than death.
Still death's bride is the girl I seek.
Will she be found upon her knees in glistening agony?
Will she be found upon her knees begging for mercy?
Welcome to the hive, the city thriving alive and breathing
What pity may be sought from the blackened hearts of industrial devils?
Who knows what goes on behind these walls,
The confusion of life, the love of death?
As Puppet masters purge the last source of life from the man machine
We are as denying the mother earth that bore us, the father sky that saw us grow
Below my tower uniform clowns are performing
Can you feel the storm clouds gathering?
Can you feel the movement within the herd?
Can we be heard above the din?
Can you be free of a concept of sin?
Can you be free within a cage of skin?
The White Queen and her retinue are marching
She the great un-named
She the wild un-tamed
Green lady of the isolated night
The vegetation is her flesh
Her breath the freshest death
She the great un-named
She the wild un-tamed
I invoke you
Ride soft the midnight hour
Adorn yourself in the feathers of empowerment
Rise
Rise the great un-named
Rise, lady of the forest night.
Lady of moonlight Lake.
See them parade
See them dance
Calling on the summer in their step
Calling on the gods to help them forget the
Past re-occurring before their eyes.
They sky is melting
The sky is melting
The tears of our lady white make the eyes of the mad man smile
My friends are lost to sadness
And I am one within them all
Leading the horde we frolic as satyrs
Chasing the nymphs once more from their woodland asylums.
See how they adorn themselves
Hours within the looking glass
See how they adorn themselves
A generation lost to the past,
Lost to a space they call their own.
My space
Your space
Any face
Any race
Who are these people?
Smiling at me through a portal lens
Who are these monsters?
Strange eyes telling tales from other realms?
Are they the ghosts of a reality torn?
They scare me
I’ve been scared from the moment I was born.
My fear inciting paranoia of the parade outside
Masquerading a fading lust for anarchy,
Breathing revolution in the hearts of men
The secret of now and then is rising
And to my surprise I find these eyes are closing
Sick of familiar ghosts posing in all too familiar poses.
Now and then the secret told lay forever young and never old.
And here I remain
Digging a hole to pass the time
Trying to forget my name
And to bury all that once was mine.
How shall we grow to be grown?
How shall we come to know all that can not be known?
Will you show me that which to no other you have shown?
poem by David Lacey
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Moonshine Find Me
Through vast pine forests they have searched
They are leaving the country
Seeking clarity within the labyrinth of city streets unwinding.
Moonshine find me.
I have awoken and for the first time in my life known the bliss of love as real.
And here I am at my journeys end
Having found my love in the arms of a friend,
And What greater love is there to seek
Than the love that makes your knees grow weak?
Can you hear upon the wind the stories of our forefathers?
A thousand dreams are sewn it seems from petals in descent.
And smiling lost within the moment present... what could I resent?
Fed upon the fruits of the earth
Drinking water from the freshest springs
Here I am within the moment of rebirth
Here to spread my wings
Ascending into flight
Rising out of sight.
I have torched the temple of my adolescence
And here I find myself building within the bounds of sacred measures.
Here I find myself building mausoleums to entomb the treasures I have sought upon my journey.
Running wild into the woods at night, running from sirens
The girl is caught upon the barbed fence.
We study our scriptures under translation, losing more than we can ever gain.
Hollow trenches beneath his eyes
Gaunt
The night is a wild beast foaming
And we the children roaming
Dance for the chance to rise and to stare
Wide eyed into the eyes of eternity's unwinding.
poem by David Lacey
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Your paths grew strange you became
Sad sagacious runaway legs frozen to the stone
The stone time testimony carved
Grey hairs each moment drowned in just one night
Stood still you watched them
The way they sold the mothers down the road
Their skirts their dresses their blouses
Their ribbons their hair their cuts
Down the children’s cry you cried
The way they sold the fathers
Those fathers of food those fathers of cherish
Their coats their shirts their boots
Their heart their lungs their eyes their cuts
Down the children’s cry you cried
‘I could have died of sorrow
But still could see but still could believe
There’s a wound and there’s a heart
There’s a healing as well
Sweet balm pouring down those drops of pain to soothe
©Miroslava Odalović
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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I Am The Night
I am the lightning
And the storm
All hell broke loose
On the night I was born
A child of fire
And burning flames
Look to the east
And youll see hence I came
Might throw you into the darkness
Or save you by the light
Of the moon and stars
Ever shining
Celestial bodies burning bright
Burning bright
I, I am the night
I, I am the night
I am the terror
The beast at large
Heed my warning
Sound the alarm
An endless shadow
For daylight you pray
Lock your doors
But you cannot get away
Tender angels of mercy
How they run from my sight
Eclipsed into darkness
Searching only for the light
For the light
For the light
I, I am the night
I, I am the night
!!thgin ta sevil latem
song performed by by Pantera
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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