Before I Knocked
Before I knocked and flesh let enter,
With liquid hands tapped on the womb,
I who was as shapeless as the water
That shaped the Jordan near my home
Was brother to Mnetha's daughter
And sister to the fathering worm.
I who was deaf to spring and summer,
Who knew not sun nor moon by name,
Felt thud beneath my flesh's armour,
As yet was in a molten form
The leaden stars, the rainy hammer
Swung by my father from his dome.
I knew the message of the winter,
The darted hail, the childish snow,
And the wind was my sister suitor;
Wind in me leaped, the hellborn dew;
My veins flowed with the Eastern weather;
Ungotten I knew night and day.
As yet ungotten, I did suffer;
The rack of dreams my lily bones
Did twist into a living cipher,
And flesh was snipped to cross the lines
Of gallow crosses on the liver
And brambles in the wringing brains.
My throat knew thirst before the structure
Of skin and vein around the well
Where words and water make a mixture
Unfailing till the blood runs foul;
My heart knew love, my belly hunger;
I smelt the maggot in my stool.
And time cast forth my mortal creature
To drift or drown upon the seas
Acquainted with the salt adventure
Of tides that never touch the shores.
I who was rich was made the richer
By sipping at the vine of days.
I, born of flesh and ghost, was neither
A ghost nor man, but mortal ghost.
And I was struck down by death's feather.
I was a mortal to the last
Long breath that carried to my father
The message of his dying christ.
You who bow down at cross and altar,
Remember me and pity Him
Who took my flesh and bone for armour
And doublecrossed my mother's womb.
poem by Dylan Thomas
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All All And All The Dry Worlds Lever
I
All all and all the dry worlds lever,
Stage of the ice, the solid ocean,
All from the oil, the pound of lava.
City of spring, the governed flower,
Turns in the earth that turns the ashen
Towns around on a wheel of fire.
How now my flesh, my naked fellow,
Dug of the sea, the glanded morrow,
Worm in the scalp, the staked and fallow.
All all and all, the corpse's lover,
Skinny as sin, the foaming marrow,
All of the flesh, the dry worlds lever.
II
Fear not the waking world, my mortal,
Fear not the flat, synthetic blood,
Nor the heart in the ribbing metal.
Fear not the tread, the seeded milling,
The trigger and scythe, the bridal blade,
Nor the flint in the lover's mauling.
Man of my flesh, the jawbone riven,
Know now the flesh's lock and vice,
And the cage for the scythe-eyed raver.
Know, O my bone, the jointed lever,
Fear not the screws that turn the voice,
And the face to the driven lover.
III
All all and all the dry worlds couple,
Ghost with her ghost, contagious man
With the womb of his shapeless people.
All that shapes from the caul and suckle,
Stroke of mechanical flesh on mine,
Square in these worlds the mortal circle.
Flower, flower the people's fusion,
O light in zenith, the coupled bud,
And the flame in the flesh's vision.
Out of the sea, the drive of oil,
Socket and grave, the brassy blood,
Flower, flower, all all and all.
poem by Dylan Thomas
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Flesh n Blood
Over time Ive come to feel
That everything must come apart it seems
From the little child to the man of power
From the beggar to the angel of my dreams
From the thinnest thread we are sewn together
From the finest string we dangle over time
From the highest wire do we walk through fire
Should our balance ever falter
Should our steps be unaligned
Such a big storm yeah such a strong wind blowing
Such a loud voice calling for me to cross the line
Chorus
But Im not gonna give up the ghost
No, not gonna give up the ghost
Im not gonna give up the ghost, no not gonna give it up
cause I havent the strength to hold out too long
If we both hold on together we can make each other strong
After all were flesh n blood
After all were flesh n blood
After all were flesh n blood
After all were flesh
After all were flesh n blood
After all were flesh n blood
After all were flesh n blood
After all were flesh
Drop the mask take away the house
And forget about the income and the car
Were all the same underneath our shell
Weve all been to hell and we know what its like
And weve shared each others sins
We all know what its like to give up the fight
Weve all been ashamed at one time or another
We all have dreams and nightmares too
When it all comes down well look out for each other
(no one else will)
But when I hear the call when I feel the thirst
When the catcher comes to take my soul
Hes gonna have to fight me first
Chorus
Every cloud has a silver lining
And every soul is tender to the touch
We are made of stone, we are made of steel
And were all the same when we return to dust
But when I hear the call when I feel the thirst
When the catcher comes to take my soul
Hes gonna have to fight me first . . .
Chorus out
song performed by by Oingo Boingo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Process in the Weather of the Heart
A process in the weather of the heart
Turns damp to dry; the golden shot
Storms in the freezing tomb.
A weather in the quarter of the veins
Turns night to day; blood in their suns
Lights up the living worm.
A process in the eye forwarns
The bones of blindness; and the womb
Drives in a death as life leaks out.
A darkness in the weather of the eye
Is half its light; the fathomed sea
Breaks on unangled land.
The seed that makes a forest of the loin
Forks half its fruit; and half drops down,
Slow in a sleeping wind.
A weather in the flesh and bone
Is damp and dry; the quick and dead
Move like two ghosts before the eye.
A process in the weather of the world
Turns ghost to ghost; each mothered child
Sits in their double shade.
A process blows the moon into the sun,
Pulls down the shabby curtains of the skin;
And the heart gives up its dead.
poem by Dylan Thomas
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Canada
England, father and mother in one,
Look on your stalwart son.
Sturdy and strong, with the valour of youth,
Where is another so lusty?
Coated and mailed, with the armour of truth,
Where is another so trusty?
Flesh of your flesh, and bone of your bone,
He is yours alone.
England, father and mother in one,
See the wealth of your son.
Forests primeval, and virginal sod,
Wheat-fields golden and splendid:
Riches of nature and opulent God
For the use of his children intended.
A courage that dares, and a hope that endures,
And a soul all yours.
England, father and mother in one,
Hear the cry of your son.
Little cares he for the glories of earth
Lying around and above him,
Yearning is he for the rights of his birth,
And the heart of his mother to love him.
Vast are your gifts to him, ample his store,
Now open your door.
England, father and mother in one,
Heed the voice of your son.
Proffer him place in your councils of state:
Let him sit near, and attend you.
Ponder his words in the hour of debate,
Strong is his arm to defend you.
Flesh of your flesh, and bone of your bone,
Give him his own.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Unless A Man Is Born Again
Nicodemus knew that Jesus was a teacher, who had come from God,
For no one but He could perform miraculous signs he said with a nod.
Nicodemus himself, was a seeker of The Eternal Truth of Almighty God,
And believing in The Word, he was lead by Christ's staff not His rod.
He said unless a man is born again he can not see The Kingdom of God,
Instead of His Mercy they will receive His Justice through His Rod.
These things were much too lofty for the natural mind to comprehend,
Man can not see The Kingdom without The Spirit who Christ would send.
Again unless a man is born again he can not enter The Kingdom of God,
Instead he shall be judged on this earth, where his feet have trod.
For our present body is sinful corrupted flesh that can not enter in,
But your incorruptible body is prepared once you become born again.
Surely one cannot enter his mother's womb to be born a second time?
Nicodemus asked, as he didn't understand, this birth is to be Divine.
For Flesh gives birth to flesh, but the Spirit gives birth to spirit,
And The Spirit is like the wind that you can't see but you hear it.
The above is not from man, but was spoke by Jesus our Lord and God,
Yes, Jesus is The Christ forever and will be using His staff and rod.
You, like Nicodemus can be led by Christ's staff to The Truth of God,
Or continue in unbelief and face The King of Glory and His iron rod.
(Copyright © 04/2003)
Some Times
I sit around sometimes and let my thoughts eat me alive
Till one day I thought of you
my birth mother and the flesh and blood of what is supposed to be my sister
after 3 years of getting on with my life I had completely forgotten
when I thought of you both I had to ask myself why out of all times after a long while
Then I remember it is because I could never stand the thought of you both without wanting to be sick to my stomache and filled with dissapointment that the one who gave me life chose to believe a very sick man she had been with an loved since I was six over her own flesh and blood
and a best friend
my little sister who could only think selfishly of her own happyness
Some times I wonder why I only told you of once
Then I remember its because I knew you wouldnt believe me
Your to blinded by love and selfish yourself
And it was worse then the other times he even touched me
because this time he went to far
I managed to escape cleverly the first time that day
but the second time I had to let him know to back off
I wish you were there to hear me scream no dad dont at the top of my lungs
even after you knew about that day and still to this day i have nightmares of him
Its pretty bad when I know that my biological dad who was never there is so much better then the sick creature you call your lover
an the waste of my effection calls dad
hopefully by the time my baby comes and I move into my new house with a man who loves me and his unborn child an who I know would never hurt our baby I can forget about you completely
Sometimes I miss you then i remember its useless to miss what you never had and then im happy all over again
Some times
poem by Sandy Vanity
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Im Just A Man
(backing vocals by billie godfrey & caroline mackendrick)
Im just a man
My will is so strong
When Ive got plans
I close my eyes to the pain
My mother ran
My father left town
But we still have
Whats necessary to go on
Flesh and blood
Flesh and blood
Im part of you
Youre part of me
Theres nothing said
That cannot be undone
My brothers sane
His heart is so strong
Hes killed some pain
To himself nearly did the same
It washed away
Into the cruel sea
Like everything
Thats built upon the sand
Flesh and blood
Flesh and blood
Sweet sister t
She loved so long and hard
Kept to herself
Until that right man came along
Some men they lie
Some men they cheat
But now shes found
Someone to be as strong
Im just a man
My will is so strong
When Ive got plans
I close my eyes to the pain
My father ran
(flesh and blood)
My mother left town
But we still have
(flesh and blood)
Whats necessary to go on
Im part of you
Youre part of me
song performed by by INXS
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Looking Back
the form was presentable
i look at the eyes again and
tell you, ah, those eyes were
my father's eyes,
and my father was so handsome,
until, time used him, there were
lies, and it infested his body
until he got so weak and
then he died in all
despair possible,
i look back and find the reasons
for betrayal,
they were beautiful reasons
and then i understand
those sad eyes, those tantrums,
the dead dog
the fish surrounding its rotten flesh
feeding upon it
until it sinks as pieces of bones
the foul smell
finally buried in the water
the white ghost floats in the river
and always in fidelity
it sings
there was no regret for the
beautiful reason
there was only Eros,
the warmth in the flesh that entered
in the thighs,
and the pleasures that
no one can ever forget.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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This Bread I Break
This bread I break was once the oat,
This wine upon a foreign tree
Plunged in its fruit;
Man in the day or wine at night
Laid the crops low, broke the grape's joy.
Once in this time wine the summer blood
Knocked in the flesh that decked the vine,
Once in this bread
The oat was merry in the wind;
Man broke the sun, pulled the wind down.
This flesh you break, this blood you let
Make desolation in the vein,
Were oat and grape
Born of the sensual root and sap;
My wine you drink, my bread you snap.
poem by Dylan Thomas
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No father?
i told my father it was so and i got up and left him then you know
though there was nowhere i had to go and nothing i had to do
i stand before you father
but you refuse to see
oh father, have you forgotten me?
i kneel before you father
but you do not feel
i am your flesh and same blood
if only you knew
if only i could tell you your an ass
if only i could say and put into words what you've put me through
if only you were around to say good job
as a father you have failed
as a father you were never there
i am ill be gotten history
...no father?
poem by Calvin Jenkins
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Around The Plynth
(rod stewart, ron wood)
Woken up on mornings such as this
And thought exactly the same as Im thinking now.
Every night for a year Ive slept alone.
Cold damp room looks worse than me, no no no
Got a fear of death that creeps on every night.
I know I wont die soon, but then again I might,
Water down the drain, Im wasting away.
And doctors cant help me a ghost of a man thats me, no no
Water down the drain goes to the sea,
The pattern of my life keeps a-haunting me.
Moisture from the ocean fills the sky,
Come on down to the ground as the time goes by, no no no no no
Slow down there
I never found out the reason why
Why my parents had to lie
About the place that I was born
And from my hometown I was torn
At the tender age of four
I was livin by a homemade law
I never knew when it was to be laid
My desires are never displayed
I never knew what it was to be loved
I never knew what it was to be laid
I never knew what it was to win
I never knew what it was to be loved, nonono
Ah, get on up there
I never knew what it was to be loved
I never knew what it was to be laid
Nonononono
Slow down there
song performed by by Rod Stewart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To A Friend That I Have Only Felt
if i shall not hear the sound of the wind again
i shall think of the shell
i shall imagine the flesh that once was there
the taste of my own tongue
i shall for a while remember but i cannot assure you
till when
for i am but a shell myself and time shall wrap me too
with emptiness
i shall be carried by the winds too and my tongue shall
not remember the taste of flesh the taste of water
and my skin shall not feel any coldness of the wind
my eyes cannot see what light has been in that previous darkness.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Rice Fields
Diminutive rice paddy's cry
Villages copulate with war
Shedding all but the soul
We tremble like dying leaves
Sacred soil of our ancestors
Sacred sky of all the gentle
Thatch huts burn in the night
Flags fly like charred flesh
Now the wind has new visitors
Ghost that walk main street
Ghost of children’s dreams
No silhouettes in candlelight
Where is the moon for her daughter?
Eyes of endless rain
Tides driven by guns and fire
She stares at the rice fields
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
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Victory Is His
They took Him before Pilate and asked, 'How do you plead'?
We want to know before we beat you till you bleed.
He knew not how to begin,
For you see He had no sin.
They beat upon Him till His flesh gave way to bone,
And the sin of men was more likely shown.
The cat had ripped and torn away,
Faraway into the ugly day.
They ceased not until the cobbles were blood strewn,
And this beautiful son of man was an ugly ruin.
Soldiers cast a rugged cross upon his mauled being,
Across torn back and head where blood impeded seeing.
He stumbled but carried this cross to the place of the skull,
Through His palms and feet He was nailed with iron dull.
Shamed, He was speared and crowned with thorns.
Upon Him my sin and that of every man was born.
A black day saw His Father turn away,
Placed in a grave that was not His He arose the third day.
He later spoke to dear friends and those He loved,
And arose to sit with His Father above.
Now He calls me to accept His saving gift,
Admit my sin, seek forgiveness, and heal the rift.
So my dear reader, have you accepted His work,
Hurry dear friend do it now please do not shirk.
Father Forgive Them
Father, forgive (the Saviour said)
They know not what they do:
His heart was moved when thus he prayed
For me, my friends, and you.
He saw, that as the Jews abused
And crucified his flesh;
So he, by us, would be refused,
And crucified afresh.
Through love of sin, we long were prone
To act as Satan bid;
But now, with grief and shame we own,
We knew not what we did.
We knew not the desert of sin,
Nor whom we thus defied;
Nor where our guilty souls had been,
If Jesus had not died.
We knew not what a law we broke,
How holy, just and pure!
Nor what a God we durst provoke,
But thought ourselves secure.
But Jesus all our guilt foresaw,
And shed his precious blood
To satisfy the holy law,
And make our peace with God.
My sin, dear Saviour, made thee bleed,
Yet didst thou pray for me!
I knew not what I did, indeed,
When ignorant of thee.
poem by John Newton
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My Hero Bares His Nerves
My hero bares his nerves along my wrist
That rules from wrist to shoulder,
Unpacks the head that, like a sleepy ghost,
Leans on my mortal ruler,
The proud spine spurning turn and twist.
And these poor nerves so wired to the skull
Ache on the lovelorn paper
I hug to love with my unruly scrawl
That utters all love hunger
And tells the page the empty ill.
My hero bares my side and sees his heart
Tread; like a naked Venus,
The beach of flesh, and wind her bloodred plait;
Stripping my loin of promise,
He promises a secret heat.
He holds the wire from this box of nerves
Praising the mortal error
Of birth and death, the two sad knaves of thieves,
And the hunger's emperor;
He pulls that chain, the cistern moves.
poem by Dylan Thomas
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The Prisoner Of War
he waited from night to night
he waited till the son started peeling over the horizon
he waited till he heard the morning birds chirp
he waited for a long time
he waited for his father
his father lost at war
his father he knew since he was born
but as time grew
the boy felt so weary
the boy waited and waited and waited
his mother giving him the same face
the same face when his father left
and the same face when he didn't comeback
but the boy did not notice this
the boy never knew his dad has been lost
but until
until he strayed up one night
a night he would never forget
he saw his father walking about in the streets
his uniform on but he noticed something else
his father had many medals
but he knew nothing of them
all that he cared about was his father was home
the boy waited 10 years
his mother fell asleep in tears
for all those years
but then he finally came home
this poem is dedicated to all POW
poem by Montana Hohensee
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Flesh For A Fantasy
There's a change in pace
Of fantasy and taste
Do you like good music?
Do you like to dance? Oh yeah.
Hangin' out for a body shop at night
Ain't it strange what we do to feel alright? Oh yeah.
So when will you call?
I'm experienced Oh yeah
Face to face
And back to back
You see and feel
My sex attack
Sing it
Flesh, flesh for fantasy
We want
Flesh, flesh for fantasy
It's after midnight
Are you feelin' alright oh yeah
Turn on the light, babe
Are you someone else tonight?
Neighbour to neighbour, door to door
Don't ask questions, there's time for it all Oh yeah.
Face to face
And back to back
You see and feel
My sex attack
Sing it
Flesh, flesh for fantasy
We cry
Flesh, flesh for fantasy
I sing for culture...
Father loves his son,
Mothers, daughters, too.
It's an old old story,
Cries the new world too.
Flesh, flesh for fantasy
We want
Flesh, flesh for fantasy
We want
Flesh, flesh for fantasy
You cry
Flesh, flesh for fantasy
song performed by by Billy Idol
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Random things about my Mother
My mother whose eyes were strained
By a sadness that stained her eyes
With grey and blue hue
My mother who never blew
Out candles on a birthday cake
My mother who never knew
The thrills of flying in an airplane
My mother who forever threw
Her pearls to swine
My mother who knew
No contentment in living
My who mother never lived
To be even seventy two
My mother who it is true
Stopped living long before she died
My mother from whose mouth flew
Words of disappointment and fury
My mother whose lips
Tasted bitter tears
My mother sat impatiently
In sorrow through her years
My mother who like Kunta Kinte
Was tamed by Diabets
My mother who was tamed
By my father
My mother who was captured by my father
My mother who fought with my father
The two them struggling false teeth piercing each others flesh
My mother who my father told to go and cook the mint
My mother who would beat us and cause wounds and bruises to our skin
My mother who love to walk about
My mother who gave a toe
A day away
My mother who kiked with her stump of a leg after she lost her foot
My mother who was a great dresser
My mother who could sing
Sang on the church choir
My mother who would be at the front of the church earliest every Saturday
My mother who insisted I be baptized and save by the holy ghost
My mother had beautiful handwriting
My mother who had nine children for five different men
My mother who tried to settle down with my father
My mother who could never swim
My mother who loved to sing
My mother who would tie us up on leashes and take us for long walks through the town
My mother who sought out hand me-downs – for our clothing
My mother who was active in the Welfare Society at church so she could cream the crop for her family
My mother who instigated many a conflicts with her numerous friend was left with only a few in the end.
My mother whom I so wanted to help evolve
My mother who I helped to live
My mother who I had to let die
My mother who lives in me
poem by Fleurette Elaine Harris
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Flesh For Fantasy
Theres a change in pace
Of fantasy and taste
Do you like good music?
Do you like to dance? oh yeah.
Hangin out for a body shop at night
Aint it strange what we do to feel alright? oh yeah.
So when will you call?
Im experienced oh yeah
Face to face
And back to back
You see and feel
My sex attack
Sing it
Flesh, flesh for fantasy
We want
Flesh, flesh for fantasy
Its after midnight
Are you feelin alright oh yeah
Turn on the light, babe
Are you someone else tonight?
Neighbour to neighbour, door to door
Dont ask questions, theres time for it all oh yeah.
Face to face
And back to back
You see and feel
My sex attack
Sing it
Flesh, flesh for fantasy
We cry
Flesh, flesh for fantasy
I sing for culture...
Father loves his son,
Mothers, daughters, too.
Its an old old story,
Cries the new world too.
Flesh, flesh for fantasy
We want
Flesh, flesh for fantasy
We want
Flesh, flesh for fantasy
You cry
Flesh, flesh for fantasy
song performed by by Billy Idol
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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