Active And Imdependent!
Up to it,
Up to you,
Active and independent!
Patient,
Dependable,
But, the flood came in! !
Honest,
Food, flood!
And, like a servant.
Ran, run!
Inspired;
Trustworthy,
But, think of it;
And, be very clear with your mind.
Book, booked!
And, let your works be guided with love.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Anxiety
The stop of the flood of letters and,
The stop of the flood of love;
But times are changing for you and i,
And i need time to go on with my mind.
Anxiety with the stone-dearf ears,
And of the love of a bandage wound;
But the Princess will soon burst out in tears.
Can you imagine it?
And of a royal visit and without food;
But i am worried about the facts of your love.
No easy walk to success but,
Everything which has abeginning has an end;
And i am now on the hard road of my life.
Are we dying enough to help each other?
Fir the signs of the time are here with us;
And i am full of anxiety.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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The Merri In Flood
The old Merri River in flood waters of brown
Is flowing on bank high on by Warrnambool Town
In and out of Lake Pertobe on it's sea going way
To join the Pacific at famed Lady Bay
The old river that is old even in time
That has inspired the poets and songwriters to rhyme
In the age of the dinosaurs the Merri was old
In full flood the river a sight to behold
In Summer by the banks of the river in the shade of the trees
The Indigenous tribes had their corroborees
Like the Seasons of Nature the people come and go
But the river on down through the flat country flow
In and out of Lake Pertobe and on to the sea
The Merri in flood is a great sight to see.
poem by Francis Duggan
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A Situation
there is a waterfall on my belly
there is a dam on my pelvic bone
i cannot stop this
i will let go a river
there will be a flood
needing you.
be the parched earth
let your cracks be mouths
i will be the rain, i will be the flood
do not destroy humanity
take all of me, this flood, this rain, this dam is broken
i let go a rampage of emotions
i explode
you be the space
you must take all that i am
all that i will be
tackle me, swallow me
drink me
o thirsty earth, my love,
my life, my outlet, my current.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Deluged
Keep them deluged.
Keep them demeaned.
Keep them denied.
Keep them in need.
But you wont be the one...
To know the flood of love.
When the flood of love comes...
You will be the one to run from love.
Keep them deluged.
Keep them demeaned.
Keep them denied.
Keep them in need.
But you wont be the one...
To know the flood of love.
When the flood of love comes...
You will be the one to run from love.
You wont be the one to know what love does.
You will be the one that's stunned and runs.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Rock Your Boat
A message to all the men that used you,
A message to the rooms that saw your nakedness,
Rock your boat to rub my tights;
But the flood is about to come in as announced.
Lusty frames,
Over the faces of love in the land of no return!
And like the stages of your emotions in the land of your muse,
But the flood is about to come in as announced.
Within the spread out legs and the muse of love,
Remembering all the passengers through your red sea;
And to ride faster enough to see your smile!
But the flood is about to come in as announced.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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A Pirate's Prayer
Marekd to be alone.
And my eyes are closed.
Drown and separate.
For sakes of discernment.
Walk with the broken pieces.
They do not say a word.
They speak not a word to the broken sea.
Not burnt by fire.
Or pulled by the flood.
They come to rest in crimson pools of blood.
Guided by the wind.
Not burnt by the fire.
Not pulled by the flood.
They come to rest (alone
song performed by by Zao from Parade Of Chaos
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Book Of Guidance
Book of knowledge,
Book of truth,
The book of old,
Contains the youth,
This book has plenty,
On lies and deceit,
This reveals how to get up,
After every single defeat,
This book of love,
Tell the story,
Of the beauty's dove,
And Gods glory,
This book of life,
Is the way to live,
Be free be true,
Be pure all the way through,
Be trustworthy have honor,
Live long and prosper,
Please God and love your father,
Have fun and be one with your brother.
poem by Jordan Moore
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Digger Smith
'E calls me Digger; that's 'ow 'e begins.
'E sez 'e's only 'arf a man; an' grins.
Judged be 'is nerve, I'd say 'e was worth two
Uv me an' you.
Then 'e digs 'arf a fag out uv 'is vest,
Borrers me matches, an' I gives 'im best.
The first I 'eard about it Poole told me.
'There is a bloke called Smith at Flood's,' sez 'e;
'Come there this mornin', sez 'e's come to stay,
An' won't go 'way.
Sez 'e was sent there be a pal named Flood;
An' talks uv contracts sealed with Flanders mud.
'No matter wot they say, 'e only grins,'
Sez Poole. ''E's rather wobbly on 'is pins.
Seems like a soldier bloke. An' Peter Begg
'E sez one leg
Works be machinery, but I dunno.
I only know 'e's there an' 'e won't go.
''E grins,' sez Poole, 'at ev'rything they say.
Dad Flood 'as nearly 'ad a fit today.
'E's cursed, an' ordered 'im clean off the place;
But this cove's face
Jist goes on grinnin', an' he sez, quite carm,
'E's come to do a bit around the farm.'
The tale don't sound too good to me at all.
'If 'e's a crook,' I sez, ''e wants a fall.
Maybe 'e's dilly. I'll go round and see.
'E'll grin at me
When I 'ave done, if 'e needs dealin' with.'
So I goes down to interview this Smith.
'E 'ad a fork out in the tater patch.
Sez 'e, 'Why 'ello, Digger. Got a match?'
'Digger?' I sez. 'Well, you ain't digger 'ere.
You better clear.
You ought to know that you can't dig them spuds.
They don't belong to you; they're ole Dad Flood's.'
'Can't I?' 'e grins. 'I'll do the best I can,
Considerin' I'm only 'arf a man.
Give us a light. I can't get none from Flood,
An' mine is dud.'
I parts; an' 'e stands grinning at me still;
An' then 'e sez, ''Ave yeh fergot me, Bill?'
I looks, an' seen a tough bloke, short an' thin.
Then, Lord! I remembers that ole grin.
'It's little Smith!' I 'owls, 'uv Collin'wood.
Lad, this is good!
Last time I seen yer, you an' Ginger Mick
Was 'owling rags, out on yer final kick.'
'Yer on to it,' 'e sez. 'Nex' day we sailed.
Now 'arf uv me's back 'ome, an' 'arf they nailed.
An' Mick....Ar, well, Fritz took me down a peg.'
'E waves 'is leg.
'It ain't too bad,' 'e sez, with 'is ole smile;
'But when I starts to dig it cramps me style.
But I ain't grouchin'. It wos worth the fun.
We 'ad some picnic stoushin' Brother 'Un-
The only fight I've 'ad that some John 'Op
Don't come an' stop.
They pulled me leg a treat, but, all the same,
There's nothing over 'ere to beat the game.
'An' now,' 'e sez, 'I'm 'ere to do a job
I promised, if it was me luck to lob
Back 'ome before me mate,' 'e sez, an' then,
'E grins again.
'As clear as mud,' I sez. 'But I can't work
Me brains to 'old yer pace. Say, wot's the lurk?'
So then 'e puts me wise. It seems that 'im
An' this 'ere Flood -- I tips it must be Jim --
Was cobbers up in France, an' things occurred.
(I got 'is word
Things did occur up there). But, anyway
Seems Flood done somethin' good for 'im one day.
Then Smith 'e promised if he came back 'ome
Before 'is cobber o'er the flamin' foam,
'E'd see the ole folks 'ere, an' 'e agreed,
If there was need,
'E'd stay an' do a bit around the farm
So long as 'e had one sound, dinkum arm.
'So, 'ere I am,' 'e sez, an' grins again.
'A promise is a promise 'mong us men.'
Sez I, 'You come up to the 'ouse.
Ole Dad won't rouse
When once 'e's got yer strength, an' as for Mar,
She'll kiss yeh when she finds out 'oo yeh are.'
So we goes up, an' finds 'em both fair dazed
About this little Smith; they think 'e's crazed.
I tells the tale in words they understand;
Then it was grand
To see Dad grab Smith's 'and an' pump it good,
An' Mar, she kissed 'im, like I said she would.
Mar sez 'e must be starved, an' right away
The kettle's on, she's busy with a tray.
An', when I left, this Digger Smith 'e looked
Like 'e was booked
For keeps, with tea an' bread an' beef inside.
'Our little Willie's 'ome,' 'e grins, 'an' dried.'
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Srivastav
Electric,
Fornsic,
Genetic;
I know that you are very brilliant and,
I need your muse!
And like the sweet muse of your love.
The serpent,
Carried away!
But, the earth opened her mouth and swallowed the flood;
And the inhabitants didi watch.
Your love is so delicious to me!
Your act is so sweet to me,
Your muse is so lovely to me,
But, i am Srivastav with the muse of love;
And, i have some jobs for you to take care of.
So nice and so delicious! !
My works,
My words,
Your works,
Your words,
His works,
His words,
Her works,
Her words;
And like the sweet muse of love!
But the new ones are like a welcome message to you.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Open the King’s Heart
Open the heart, and rain with blood,
Who is your king in flood and in odd culture?
Up with God touches his mind and crown,
Defeat royalty and riches for the achievement.
A craziness builds inside, when blood and ruin
Stagnates the heart with the mind;
Both destroy each other,
Both of them will die.
But the flood and the Ark survive,
Forcing torture and deceit, living as well
When your king roasted, dies of attack from God.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Time After Time
Time after time,
Love after love,
Work after work,
Birh after birth,
School after school,
Life after life,
Flight after flight,
Light after light,
Joy after joy,
Rain after rain,
Food after food,
War after war,
Flood after flood,
Dance after dance,
Song after song,
Prayer after prayer,
Lessons after lessons,
Street after street,
Poem after poem,
And muse after muse;
But we are all part of the system.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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A Little Difference
there is
a change
a little difference
in the morning
in this town
when the bell
tolls
after the flood
the people
begins
to pray again
a new life
perhaps
or fear
that God may
send
another flood
again
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Inspiration Be Damned
Very worried about my positive book, it
recommended inspiration – thinking about
how great it would feel to do jobs I dislike
first, not by motivating myself with fear for
negative consequences, but being inspired
by expectations of how good it would feel
when it was done
Did my Production Sheet first, explained my
life moment by moment, all inspired – just to
be met with disdain, NO positive feelings at
all – inspiration be damned, nothing came of
it; I have to do another one – not even cold
motivation can force me towards this one –
the book also says never try to fix
Something that’s broken, my relations with
siblings and parents are SO broken, it says do
not try to fix it, so I don’t, but I’m wondering
how independent I can stand to become...
poem by Margaret Alice
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Faith' is a fine invention
faith is Nile's flood
setting ground for grace
faith - it flies in and out
a mother bird divides feed
the blessed a bushel
the others little by little
the almighty plays a game of chess -
- listens to spiritual music -
- and hums his heavenly nursery rhyme
that calms terrified earthly souls -
faith is Nile's flood that springs silent cheers from heart to heart
inspired by
'Faith' is a fine invention
When Gentlemen can see—
But Microscopes are prudent
In an Emergency.
Emily Dickinson
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Slander cannot destroy an honest man: when the flood recedes the rock is there.
Left To Wilt And Languish
It will rain to replenish,
That which needs to be nourished.
It will flood to clear debris,
To rejuvenate an encouragement of growth...
That allows a renewal to begin once again,
To restore a drought of life left to wilt and languish.
And has begun to dull with dust to cover in lament.
It will rain to replenish,
That which needs to be nourished.
It will flood to clear debris,
To rejuvenate an encouragement of growth...
Anguishing.
And...
Left to wilt and languish.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Second, there are two problems with respect to mobile homes in particular. One is we obviously don't want to put them in a flood plain, because if there's another flood, you're going to lose the mobile home.
quote by Michael Chertoff
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Choice
THE flood of utter change is loosed. A space
Is ours yet, for its coming to prepare.
Shall we build dams with cautious, clumsy care,
Or stand with idle hands and frightened face,
And so be whirled all broken from our place,
And perish with the dams we builded there?
Or shall we dig a broad, deep channel, where
Most fields may feel the flood's benign embrace?
Thus turned 'twill be a calm majestic flood
Of plenty, peace, and fertilising power,
Whose banks fresh flowers of love and joy shall deck.
Oppose it: at the inevitable hour,
Tumultuous, black with ruin, red with blood,
'Twill come--and you shall have no chance but wreck!
poem by Edith Nesbit
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Would?
Know me broken by my master
Teach thee on child of love hereafter
Into the flood again
Same old trip it was back then
So I made a big mistake
Try to see it once my way
Drifting body it's sole desertion
Flying not yet quite the notion
Into the flood again
Same old trip it was back then
So I made a big mistake
Try to see it once my way
Into the flood again
Same old trip it was back then
So I made a big mistake
Try to see it once my way
Am I wrong?
Have I run too far to get home
Have I gone?
And left you here alone
Am I wrong?
Have I run too far to get home
Have I gone?
And left you here alone
If I would
song performed by by Alice In Chains from Dirt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dad
I've knowed ole Flood this last five year or more;
I knoo 'im when 'is Syd went to the war.
A proud ole man 'e was. But I've watched 'im,
An' seen 'is look when people spoke uv Jim:
As sour a look as most coves want to see.
It made me glad that this 'ere Jim weren't me.
I sized up Flood the first day that we met
Stubborn as blazes when 'is mind is set,
Ole-fashioned in 'is looks an' in 'is ways,
Believin' it is honesty that pays;
An' still dead set, in spite uv bumps 'e's got,
To keep on honest if it pays or not.
Poor ole Dad Flood, 'e is too old to fight
By close on thirty year; but if I'm right
About 'is doin's an' about 'is grit,
'E's done a fair bit over 'is fair bit.
They are too old to fight, but, all the same,
'Is kind's quite young enough to play the game.
I've 'eard it called, this war - an' it's the truth
I've 'eard it called the sacrifice uv youth.
An' all this land 'as reckernized it too,
An' gives the boys the praises that is doo.
I've 'eard the cheers for ev'ry fightin' lad;
But, up to now, I ain't 'eard none for Dad.
Ole Flood, an' all 'is kind throughout the land,
They aint' been 'eralded with no brass band,
Or been much thought about; but, take my tip,
The war 'as found them with a stiffened lip.
'Umpin' a load they thought they'd dropped for good,
Crackin' reel 'ardy, an' - jist sawin' wood.
Dad Flood, 'is back is bent, 'is strength is gone;
'E'd done 'is bit before this war come on.
At sixty-five 'e thought 'is work was done;
'E gave the farmin' over to 'is son,
An' jist sat back in peace, with 'is ole wife,
To spend content the ev'nin' of 'is life.
Then comes the war. An' when Syd 'esitates
Between the ole folk an' 'is fightin' mates,
The ole man goes outside an' grabs a hoe.
Sez 'e, 'Yeh want to, an' yeh ought to go.
Wot's stoppin' yeh?' 'E straightens 'is ole frame.
'Ain't I farmed long enough to know the game?'
There weren't no more to say. An' Syd went - West:
Into the sunset with ole Aussie's best.
But no one ever 'eard no groans from Dad.
Though all 'is pride an' 'ope was in that lad
'E showed no sign excep' to grow more grim.
'Is son was gone - an' it was up to 'im.
One day last month when I was down at Flood's
I see 'im strugglin' with a bag uv spuds.
'Look 'ere,' I sez, 'you let me spell yeh, Dad.
You 'umpin' loads like that's a bit too bad.'
'E gives a grunt that's more than 'alf a groan.
'Wot's up?' 'e snaps. 'Got no work uv yer own?'
That's 'im. But I've been tippin' that the pace
Would tell; an' when 'is wife comes to our place,
An' sez that Dad 'is ill an' took to bed,
Flat out with work - though that ain't wot she said
I ain't surprised; an' tells 'er when I'm thro'
I'll come across an' see wot I can do.
I went across, an' - I come back again.
Strike me! it's no use reas'nin' with some men.
Stubbon ole cows! I'm sick uv them ole fools.
The way 'e yells, 'Keep yer 'ands off my tools!'
Yeh'd think I was a thief. 'Is missus said
I'd better slope, or 'e'd be out uv bed.
'E 'eard us talkin' through the open door,
'Oo's that?' he croaks, although 'e tries to roar.
An' when 'is wife explains it's only me
To 'elp a bit: 'I want no charity!'
'E barks. 'I'll do me work meself, yeh 'ear?'
An' then 'e gits so snarky that I clear.
But 'e'll do me. I like the ole boy's nerve.
We don't do nothin' that 'e don't deserve;
But me an' Peter Begg an' ole man Poole,
We fairly 'as our work cut out to fool
The sly ole fox, when we sneaks down each day
An' works a while to keep things under way.
We digs a bit, an' ploughs a bit, an' chops
The wood, an' does the needful to 'is crops.
We does it soft, an' when 'e 'ears a row
'Is missus tells 'im it's the dog or cow.
'E sez that it's queer noises for a pup.
An' - there'll be ructions when ole Flood gits up.
It ain't all overwork that's laid 'im out.
Ole Pride in 'im is fightin' 'ard with Doubt.
To-day 'is wife sez, 'Somethin's strange in 'im,
For in 'is sleep sometimes 'e calls for Jim.
It's six long years,' she sez, an' stops to shake
'Er 'ead. 'But 'e don't mention 'im awake.'
Dad Flood. I thought 'im jist a stiff-necked fool
Before the war; but, as I sez to Poole,
This war 'as tested more than fightin' men.
But, say, 'e is an' 'oly terror when
Friends try to 'elp 'im earn a bite an' sup.
Oh, there'll be 'Ell to pay when 'e gits up!
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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