I Shall Go Back
I shall go back again to the bleak shore
And build a little shanty on the sand
In such a way that the extremest band
Of brittle seaweed shall escape my door
But by a yard or two; and nevermore
Shall I return to take you by the hand.
I shall be gone to what I understand,
And happier than I ever was before.
The love that stood a moment in your eyes,
The words that lay a moment on your tongue,
Are one with all that in a moment dies,
A little under-said and over-sung.
But I shall find the sullen rocks and skies
Unchanged from what they were when I was young.
poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay
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Seaweed Shovelling Song
This is my seaweed shovelling song
Ive been shovelling all day long
Ive got got my seaweed shovel in hand
Because Im a seaweed shovelling man
Green weed, red weed, still alive and dead weed
Lying in a pile on the shore
Brown weed, pink weed, smelly kind of stink weed
Who on earth could ask for more!
This is my seaweed shovelling song
Ive been shovelling all day long
Ive got got my seaweed shovel in hand
Because Im a seaweed shovelling man
Dry weed, wet weed, aint-been-troubled-yet weed
Glinting in the morning sun
Thin weed, thick weed, slimy kind of slick weed
Every bucket weighs a ton!
This is my seaweed shovelling song
Ive been shovelling all day long
Ive got got my seaweed shovel in hand
Because Im a seaweed shovelling
Seaweed shovelling
Seaweed shovelling
Seaweed shovelling man!
song performed by by Waterboys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Old Shanty Town
With the heat of the sun,
As it fiercely beats down,
There's no shade to be won,
In this old Shanty Town.
The rough row of shacks,
To be seen up and down,
Are riddled with cracks,
In this old Shanty town.
The winds, blowing hard,
Send the tumbleweed down,
To take over a graveyard,
In this old Shanty Town.
And weird echoes resound,
Through doors broken down,
And no welcome is found,
In this old Shanty Town.
Once a horse and its rider,
Came sauntering down,
In the hope of cool cider,
In this old Shanty Town.
That's when there were folk,
Who walked up and down,
And slept and awoke,
In this old Shanty Town.
But these times have flown,
And it's drab and rundown,
And one's all on one's own,
In this old Shanty Town.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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Surf Eternal
An endless parade
Foam tipped waves
rocks battered endlessly
Rank seaweed…
dank caves
Once majestic
trees of seaweed
Now become horizontal
Lines drawn in the sand
Tern tracks imprinted
as hieroglyphs
Upon pristine
Sand Papyrus
Plovers chase the sea away
Turn and stand about
The sea returns…
To chase the terns
Who in turn…
Chase the sea back out
poem by David Whalen
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The Ravens Call
i hear the ravens call
i see the dead mans fall
for once more i hear the ravens crow
of the words nevermore
just like that lonley man
that sat with a book in his hands
stairing at a picture of his lost love lenore
knowing she will never return to his door
as he hears the ravens call of nevermore nevermore
i will sit here by myself nevermore hearing the ravens crow
but signs of that raven will nevermore go
poem by Oi Boi Alec Wade
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Footprint
Love
that like footprint on the sand
uncertainly answered
that back
like a shield for my feeling
always walking one step alone
everytime I close
like the sand on the shore
that waved back to the shore
my feeling for you
like shore side should be calm
without voice
only written disappeared
from hitsuji no namida
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Bedroom PIcture
I saw you at the shore...!
Your barefeet were seaweed bound--
Pants rolled up to your ankles--
While the sun-was pounding down;
Driftwood and sand dollar tokens strewn...
Admidst a love tragedy...
Sands white grains defined you...
And your impossibility! ;
You with your 'Birds Eye View'...!
Upon someones kitchen of lament...! !
The wind offers you echo ears...
But be sure-its not heaven sent! ;
Invasion of our privacy--
Through sight and through sound...
Will be swallowed up by the Deep!
And by the seaweed you are forever bound;
The Golden Rule
July,2010
poem by Theodora Onken
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The Raven
The raven
Lead vocal: alan parsons, leonard whiting
The clock struck midnight
And through my sleeping
I heard a tapping at my door
I looked but nothing lay in the darkness
And so I turned inside once more
To my amazement
There stood a raven
Whose shadow hung above my door
Then through the silence
It spoke that one word
That I shall hear forever more
Nevermore
Thus quoth the raven, nevermore
And still the raven remains in my room
No matter how much I implore
No words can soothe him
No prayer remove him
And I must hear for evermore
Quoth the raven, nevermore
Thus quoth the raven
Nevermore
song performed by by Alan Parsons Project
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Possible Peace In An Undying War
A lion and a lamb
Entangled in the likes of war
Headed off to the fiery sea
Marooned on the bloody shore
Battling these dogs of war
A peace within a war
But we haven't the key
To open the opportune door
And on the inside we seek
Salvation for the pain we bore
With an ending so sweet
The whole world under our feet
This ending but a dream
A dream that this war
Will be here nevermore
Nevermore in this life
We shall rapture and fly
Only moments
After we die
poem by Plague Rose
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Rock 'N' Roll Band
If we were a rock 'n' roll band,
We'd travel all over the land.
We'd play and we'd sing and wear spangly things.
If we were a rock 'n' roll band.
If we were a rock 'n' roll band,
And we were up there on the stand,
The people would here us and love us and cheer us.
Hurray for that rock 'n' roll band.
If we were a rock 'n' roll band,
Then we'd have a million fans.
We'd giggle and laugh and sign autographs,
If we were a rock 'n' roll band.
If we were a rock 'n' roll band.
The people would all kiss our hands.
We'd be millionaires and have extra long hair,
If we were a rock 'n' roll band.
But we ain't no rock 'n' roll band,
We're just seven kids in the sand.
With homemade guitars and pails and jars
And drums of potato chip cans.
Just seven kids in the sand.
Talk'n and waven' our hands.
And dreamin' and thinkin' oh wouldn't it be grand,
If we were a rock 'n' roll band.
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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Buried Between two Trees
Back home again
in the yard
I used to play in
So many memories here
of days long ago
for memories, I hold dear
Saw the grave of old shep
the dog I loved so
in this yard, he followed me every step
He's buried between two trees you see
buried him in my brand new quilt
and my mother was really mad at me
In this yard, I would bathe him
many years before
his old eyes grew dim
His bed layed by the cellar door
with tall trees, all around him
oh memories, of the dog I adored
Memories of the time
that the meter man came
he hit old shep, that wasn't very kind
This old yard, was all shep had
he guarded it with his life
when he died, I was very sad
This old yard, now has in it,
a lot of beautiful flowers, all round
between two trees, he wouldn't mind a bit.
Before The Flood
Why did he promise me
that we would build ourselves
an ark all by ourselves
out in back of the house
on New York Avenue
in Union City New Jersey
to the singing of the streetcars
after the story
of Noah whom nobody
believed about the waters
that would rise over everything
when I told my father
I wanted us to build
an ark of our own there
in the back yard under
the kitchen could we do that
he told me that we could
I want to I said and will we
he promised me that we would
why did he promise that
I wanted us to start then
nobody will believe us
I said that we are building
an ark because the rains
are coming and that was true
nobody ever believed
we would build an ark there
nobody would believe
that the waters were coming
poem by William Stanley Merwin
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Love and Rapture!
What can a prisoner say about his bars?
When, he can't extrapolate an escape.
Ah, I love you— but farewell—hurrah!
O let other I's within, permit my leave'.
Though in heart, I'll stay an outside visitor.
Question: What is a key without a lock?
A jail without; walls in small-diameter?
Who turns the key to an open-shut door?
A door hinged without walls ceiling or floor.
Life then asks what dream-makers are for
'Death answers love and rapture! '
And all that is and is not for Nevermore…
poem by Mark Heathcote
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Production Line
much is much and
so many is like sand sprawling
on the shore... so much so many
and one who lays her body on
the sandy shore
takes sand for granted just another
part of this mass production of
things in her ordinary world: rocks, pebbles, stones,
sands,
what value can there be on a speck of dust
a grain of sand
becomes like her sun, too ordinary for her sunburn-skin
what's got the sun to do with me?
or the sand?
her sunglasses speak for her
in the middle of her empty hours
basking under the sun
production some times, so much for so many
meaninglessness growing like fruits of the poisonous tree
i could have kept one, just one
kept it inside my heart, i could have known what is precious,
diamond, just one,
glittering in the darkest hour of my night.
but there is no one really, all i have are mass produced, and
like sand, i lay my body on the shore, spreading so thinly without
feelings.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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On My Way
May winds blow on my back
And push my sails onward
To shore where lies that shack
With roses on its yard
The home of Lady Love
My angel from above
While plodding down the road, I pray:
That I would pass a wishing well,
Or that black cats would shun my way,
Or that I see those lights that fell,
So I could ask a shooting star
Of guiding me to where you are;
It augurs ill, and seems of prospects bleak,
If on my way, a hearse passes me by,
Or should to pieces, I, a mirror break,
But luck, to find a four-leaf clover lie,
And of ladders I know,
Never to walk on space below.
poem by Reyvrex Questor Reyes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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For music
ALONG the shore, along the shore
I see the wavelets meeting:
But thee I see--ah, never more,
For all my wild heart's beating.
The little wavelets come and go,
The tide of life ebbs to and fro,
Advancing and retreating:
But from the shore, the steadfast shore,
The sea is parted never:
And mine I hold thee evermore,
Forever and forever.
Along the shore, along the shore
I hear the waves resounding,
But thou wilt cross them nevermore
For all my wild heart's bounding:
The moon comes out above the tide
And quiets all the billows wide
Her pathway bright surrounding:
Thus on the shore, the dreary shore,
I walk with weak endeavor:
I have thy love's light evermore,
Forever and forever.
poem by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
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To Knock on a Door
Who
Who
Who knocks?
Who knocks at
Who knocks at my door?
Who knocks at my door - not chamber
Who knocks at my door - not chamber door, but door. Who knocks?
Who knocks at my door - not chamber door, but door. Who knocks? Is it a raven - a raven
Who knocks at my door - not chamber door, but door. Who knocks? Is it a raven - a raven named Nevermore that knocks, knocks at my non-chamber door?
Who knocks at my door - not chamber door, but door. Who knocks? Is it a raven - a raven named Nevermore that knocks, knocks at my non-chamber door? ... No, it's just my brother, Josh, that knocks, knocks at my non-chamber door:
It's time for dinner.
poem by Hannah Shier
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Six-sixty-six
In the midst of the war
He offered us peace
And he came like a lover
From out of the east
With the face of an angel and the heart of a beast
His intentions were six-sixty-six
He walked up to the temple
With gold in his hands
And he bought off the priests
And propositioned the land
And the world was his harlot
And laid in the sand
While the band played six-sixty-six
We served at his table
And slept on the floor
But he starved us and beat us
And nailed us to the door
Well, Im ready to die
I cant take any more
And Im sick of his lies and his tricks
He told us he loved us
But that was a lie
There was blood in his pockets
And death in his eyes
Well, my number is up
And Im willing to die
If the band will play six
If the band will play six-sixty
If the band will play six-sixty-six
song performed by by Frank Black
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Escape
Escape
Escape
That one word resonates in my mind
I need an escape a reprieve from
All this energy surrounding me
Escape
Escape
I want to be let out for awhile
To be free and alone
To do what I want without interference
Escape
Escape
I don't wanna hear arguing
Or little petty problems
I want to not have to do anything
Escape
Escape
I want to Escape
poem by Autumn Winds
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I think that people don't know how to do anything anymore. My father was a janitor. He could take a car apart and put it back together. He could build a house in the back yard. Today, if you ask people what they know, they say, 'I know how to hire someone.'
quote by Walter Mosley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Devils Been Busy
While youre strolling down the fairway
Showing no remorse
Glowing from the poisons
Theyve sprayed on your golf course
While youre busy sinking birdies
And keeping your scorecard
The devils been busy in your back yard
Steaming down the highway
With your trucks of toxic waste
Where you gonna hide it
In the outer space?
You dont know what youre doing
Or what you have to guard
The devils been busy in your back yard
Sometimes you think youre crazy
But you know youre only mad
Sometimes youre better off not knowing
How much youve been had
You see your second cousin
Wasted in a fight
You say he had it coming
You couldnt do it right
Youre in a western movie, playing the part
The devils been busy in your back yard
Sometimes they say youre wicked
But you know that cant be bad
Sometimes youre better off not knowing
Itll only make you sad
Theyre coming down picadilly
Dripping at the dash
Wasting sticky willy
Covering him with their cash
They just might not have noticed, theyve been beating him so hard
And the devils been busy in your back yard
Devils been busy in your back yard
Devils been busy in your back yard
song performed by by George Harrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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