In Fury
Empty hope!
In fury,
Of the wicked;
Like false dreams! !
To err,
Enticing to sin;
Fury, bury!
With worthless gods and goddesses.
Seed, feed!
Completely;
Emptied!
Like a transgressor;
Treacherously!
Dishonour,
Entice,
Cost, lost! !
Jollying,
Brandishes;
Cracking!
But, galloping like horses.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Galloping Horses
Oh, this is the week when no rhymster may rhyme
On the joy of the bush or the ills of the time,
Nor pour out his soul in delectable rhythm
Of women and wine and the lure they have with 'em,
Nor pen philosophic if foolish discourses,
Because of the fury of galloping horses.
Galloping, galloping thro' the refrain -
The lure and the lilt of it beat on the brain.
Strive as you may for Arcadian Themes,
The silks and the saddles will weave thro' your dreams.
Surging, and urging the visions aside
For a lyrical lay of equestrian pride,
For the roar of the race and the call of the courses,
And galloping, galloping, galloping horses.
This is the week for the apotheosis
Of Horse in his glory, from tail to proboscis.
That curious quadrupled, proud and aloof,
That holds all the land under thrall of his hoof.
All creeds and conditions, all factions and forces,
All, all must give way to the galloping horses.
Galloping, galloping - sinner and saint
March to the metre, releasing restraint.
If it isn't the Cup it's the Oaks or the Steeple
That wraps in its magic the minds of the people.
Whether they seek it for profit or pleasure,
They all, willy-nilly, must dance to the measure.
The mood of the moment in all men endorses
The glamorous game and the galloping horses
Galloping horses - jockeys and courses
They gallop, we gallop with galloping horses.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Stallions Hope
I believe that horses can heal,
I believe that their hearts feel all that we feel,
I believe that the joy from riding is real,
I believe that horses really can heal.
I see children riding and smiling with joy,
I see happy healthy girls and boys,
I see hope for life and wonder renewed,
I see love for the children coming to you.
I see dreams for the kids, who once were lost,
I see helping hands, no matter the cost,
I see friends for kids, who once were tossed,
I see children laughing and no longer lost.
I do believe that horses can heal,
I believe that horses make recovery real,
I believe being sober is a much better deal,
I really believe that horses can heal.
And I know that this land, its buildings and stones,
Insures that our children are never alone,
Insures that our horses and children are one,
Insures that their lives will finally be won.
Yes I do believe that horses can heal.
That recovery hope and dreams are real,
That God and love can make a child whole,
That all of this is the Stallions Hope role.
poem by Sandra Osborne
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Galloping Days
Galloping, galloping, galloping horses
Weave thro' our dreaming in burgeoning Spring;
There's sun in our hearts and there's sun on the courses,
And paeans of hope Winter's threnody forces
Over the hill-tops; for joy is a-wing.
Joy is a-wing, and the galloping rhythm
Mingles, alack, with a ruefuller rune,
For winners may rug but the losers run with 'em,
On the galloping, galloping tune.
Galloping, galloping, galloping gladly
Round the white railing and on to the turn,
While keeping in time to it, urgently madly,
Pulses are racing, ecstatic'ly, sadly;
Eyes to the thundering eagerly yearn,
Voice, upraising, are praising, are pleading,
Mid rackets gay jackets flash by and are gone.
Then the field in the sunlight, retreating, receding,
Goes galloping, galloping, galloping on.
Galloping, galloping, galloping; streaming
Now in green distances, seeming to crawl,
Like miniatures moving, like manikins seeming,
While o'er hedge and hollow a bland sun is beaming
Casting a benison over it all.
They run to the 'Distance.' The horses! The horses!
They gallop! They gallop! They turn for the 'Straight!'
They gallop, the hoses! Who nurses remorse is
A runagate cringer to galloping Fate.
Galloping, galloping, galloping ever,
Tho' cheering is over, they gallop amain;
Tho' fact and fond fancy reluctantly sever,
The round of that ultimate, straining endeavor
Still buffets and bludgeons and beats on the brain.
They gallop - Wake up, man! What profits regaining?
Luck lurks in the offing. On, on with the dance.
Aw, tear up your ticket! The sun is still shining.
The next race is starting. Who foots it with Chance?
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Secrets about myself
Sometimes I wonder if all my dreams will come true
Because I am sure that this is possible
I am always surprised about life
Like a little child who every day rises
And I hope that God will have opened up his light
Before the evil can hit my dreams.
I am counting upon my thoughts as I am thinking of you
Certainly I am prepared to die at any time
And really ready to live
And I expect nothing in life but the Truth.
I intend to open myself up to the world,
To breathe, and to win
I know indeed everything what I intend to do,
But stronger than all my afterthoughts is my fury,
Fury that brings upon the greatest love.
I pretend that everything is wonderful.
And I pretend that
I'm not crying when tears are bleeding down my face.
And I prefer the absurdity of writing poems.
I am who I am
And nothing can change me.
poem by Marieta Maglas
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Our Loss
God walks the Earth no more
And
We, are left alone.
To fight our battles
Climb our hills
To watch our personal dawns.
We feel no more
Our passions dead.
We have gone
Where only mortals tread.
We have no hearts
Our loves are lost
Our innocence
The greatest cost.
What remains
But, empty skeletons
Godless creatures, gutless men.
We have no hearts
Nothing beats in our chest.
Savages all, yet worse our cost
We've lost our dreams
And
Nothings left.
Barren lands
Brown bittered grass.
We've killed our gods.
We've killed ourselves.
What remains
But mortal shells.
The long night's here
It brings no stars
No hopes, No dreams
Just painful scars.
We've killed ourselves.
Innocence lost.
Dreams that once were
Have turned to dust.
All that's left
Has begun to rust.
We've stayed too long
And, killed too much.
Savages, with thirsts for blood.
We've killed ourselves
Our innocence lost.
Hope is gone
poem by Rabia Minhas
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Fury Of The Wild
Sighs - The fury has electrified my mind
Sighs - The hatred burns inside by the mark of vengeance I will grind
Sighs - The sound of metal falling to the ground
Sighs - By blood we will unite by blood we are forever bound
Vengeance calling me
Oh, please set me free
The Fury of the Wild
Locked up in this cage
Can't you feel the rage?
The Fury of the Wild
Sighs - Your silence will not sanctify your crime
Sighs - When revolution calls I will be the first in line
Vengeance calling me
Oh, please set me free
The Fury of the Wild
Locked up in this cage
Can't you feel the rage?
The Fury of the Wild
Now as you stand on your own
With the future, face to face
Take a look at me now
Feel the fury, taste my rage
Come taste my revenge
Unbent - Unbowed - Unbroken
Vengeance calling me
Oh, please set me free
The Fury of the Wild
Locked up in this cage
Can't you feel the rage?
The Fury of the Wild
song performed by by Hammerfall
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I know indeed what evil I intend to do, but stronger than all my afterthoughts is my fury, fury that brings upon mortals the greatest evils.
I know indeed what evil I intend to do, but stronger than all my afterthoughts is my fury, fury that brings upon mortals the greatest evils.
Euripides in Medea (-431)
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Furore
The furore approaching is ascending,
To alight and be fury so it escapes;
An insurrection is similar, so to state,
So leave the lovers and the musicians.
Fury needs anger to muster a full pledge,
Mastering us when the politician appears
With his sound and noise, his superior hearing,
His speaking learns for us, the fury is again.
He is no mountebank, no clever charlatan,
But an impossible man of high consequences,
Fully desired by the newspapers, and the journals,
So then the furious men talk, so that we learn.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Wild & Wicked
Full moon cravin' just a little
Young love from an innocent one
No shame it's purely noncommital
It's the only way to go if you wanna have fun
Kickstart the rythm pull out on the road
Relyin' on an overload
I need some baby blues reflectin' in the mirror
Tellin' me all the things I wanna hear
Loved and lost
I paid a painful cost
Feel my love
I've reached the point of no return
I'm wild and wicked
Wild and wicked for love
I'm wild and wicked
Wild and wicked for love
I need a guy that's full of sex appeal
I need a guy that looks good in the red
I want someone with a heart that I can steal
I want someone to drive me outta my head
Tight jeans, cute, and the way I might behave
Full of trouble you might say
All those things you said it
Oh I want him in the back that way
Loved and lost
I paid a painful cost
Feel my love
I've reached the point of no return
I'm wild and wicked
Wild and wicked for love
I'm wild and wicked
Wild and wicked for love
I'm wild and wicked
Wild and wicked for love
I'm wild and wicked
Wild and wicked for love
song performed by by Shania Twain
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Song Of The Goddesses
On top of 3 buildings
The goddesses stand
A burst of air passes by
Dust escapes their open hands
The goddesses float in the air
And all around they stare
With an open hand
They begin to sing
Letting their voices carry around the world
The song of the goddesses glides in the wind
The song of the goddesses pounds underground
The song of the goddesses runs across the land
As they sing their song
The goddesses wish for peace
They hope for many to find love and happiness
And to smile along the way
poem by Justin Gildow
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Tiger Fury
The image of the pussycat,
So playful, without care...
Was gone in seconds, just like that,
When fury made him stare...
And all at once, the mood had changed
And tension killed the calm...
The trembling tiger looked deranged,
Intent on deadly harm.
His body language said it all -
You've stepped across the line!
How dare you think that you're so tall
That you can take what's mine!
Your very life hangs by a thread!
For you, there's no escape!
I'll scratch you till your blood has bled,
Then crush you like a grape!
You'll never see the stars again,
Nor silver moon at night...
For I'll teach you a lesson, then
You'll feel one final bite!
My fury takes my fear away...
I'll win with no remorse!
If I were you, I wouldn't stay,
But you must stay, of course!
For fury echoes in your heart
Enough to match my own -
You've too much pride, you won't depart,
Yet soon I'll stand alone...
Yes, one must live and one must die...
The countdown tracks the time!
Two furies fight and fur must fly...
Till one fury lasts sublime...
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Tiger Fury'.
poem by Denis Martindale
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The Ballad
I was granted by chance
With five horses at once
By my friend Lucifer and with ring,
Gold ring with a Ruby on it.
That for purpose to slip
Down into the deep
Of the caves, and to see
There young face of heavens within.
Snorting horses were hoofing,
Trying me thus to lure
To the vast space of earth race in fury...
And therefore I believed,
That a Sun inflamed me,
Only me, as a Ruby in ring.
Many a starry night
Did I rove, and many days,
Fired with sun's bright light,
And without the end
Of the way.
I've smiled to the impulse of mighty such horses,
I've enjoyed glint of ring,
I've rushed them to heaven -
There in height of the consciousness -
Only insanity. Snowfall there...
Cracking horses by whip,
I've forced them to raise..
There in heavens I've seen
Maid with a doleful face.
In her silent weak voice
I've heard chime of strings...
In her strange look - the choice
Questions-answers to join.
And I gave her a ring
To this Moon-like a Virgin
For unsteady fine tint
On the plaits incoherent.
Laughing, mocking at me, Lucifer after that
Let it open door to the darkness so deep.
And presented the six gift -
The another horse black...
The Despair - the name was of it...
poem by Nikolai Gumilyov, translated by Lyudmila Purgina
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Bury My Soul
if i died today
it would take my pain away
no more in the way
with no more to say
so bury my soul
losing control
losing my hold
bury my soul
lost control
lost a hold
so bury my soul
take my mind away from the misery
take my heart away from the mystery
so bury my soul
losing control
losing my hold
bury my soul
lost control
lost a hold
so bury my soul
i looked into your eyes
and i saw all the lies
my hate is now my fate
the more i try
the more i die
the more i die inside
so bury my soul
losing control
losing my hold
bury my soul
lost control
lost a hold
so bury my soul
i left to rest my soul
i buried my heart in the dark hole
turn the page
begin the new chapter
i surrender
i surrender my soul
so bury my soul
losing control
losing my hold
bury my soul
lost control
lost a hold
so bury my soul
bury my soul
bury my soul
poem by Bobby Butterfield
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Now Let Us Begin
man if he is true to be man, is more real if he is at first
less of himself, when he is empty, when he is emptied,
when he is emptying. It is like the stomach, you feel it more
when it is empty rather than when it is full
it speaks to you when it is hungry
it grunts
it growls
it even howls
and sometimes it whistles
than when it is bloated with so much food
and wine and desserts.Because in hunger, in the hopelessness
of our state, in the emptiness of our being
we know where we will place
everything.
we will know our dreams, we meet our hopes,
for the first time
we know precisely when to wish,
and where to put them
when we are emptying,
when we are emptied
and now we are sure when we are filling.
let us begin.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Many Gods
Gods are too many in one religion-
That is an asking of much distaste.
Gods are like religions of adjustment,
Lots of them would affect us in different ways.
Gods may produce laughter,
But Thor is no good with thunder.
Gods are not selling me objects,
Due to the weather and frame of mind.
I live with gods and goddesses
For I am a job to do with the highest ones.
poem by Naveed Akram
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A poem salvaged from the bin…
That morning when the sun
Was in hurry to show his fury
I settled down on the sofa
My weary brow dripping
The humid weather outside
I had the bin emptied before me
And a crumpled piece of paper
Caught my blinking vision
“The tree reveals of the root-rot
Only when the leaves begin to fade
And the branches stand ready to fall
But still there come a bird or two
For a brief rest…
I give the roots all that I can to nourish
Unaware and unguarded…”
My eyes declined to go further
My sweat
My tears
Felt alike on my cheek…
The empty bin gawked
10sep2010
13.20hrs
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Angry Words Hurt.
Diamond hard with sharp and bladey edge, at each thrust
As anger twists the fiery words' serrated steel,
It undertakes to bring it's victim to the dust.
Anger achieves, but leave anger well alone.
Fury hurts most those whom to fury are prone.
Unlike Them
unlike them
all they need to write are only a few
to become the shining stars of the heavens
the greatest of them
does not even have to say any word
to become the sun
the brightest planet shines
on the midnight sky
even without a hush
you must learn as early as now
that they have inherited their thrones from the gods
and goddesses
those that do not work and earn their merit
through hard work and
sacrifices
they do not have to burn their candles on both ends
for their lights are inside them
like living fireflies in automation
innate and essential for their own natural existences
they do not have to show off to be
heavenly and glorious
for effortlessly they are victorious
but no regrets for we are the ants and the pebbles are on our side
in the middle of the thick grass above the sand dunes
we look up and we wonder
we thirst and we wait for the drops of rain
we are empty and we breathe the air at night to be full
we are small and insignificant
yet we are what we are
no promises
in the simplicity of our dreams
in the fatigue of our work
in the salt of our sweat
we earn this essence
we are what we are in the smallness of our hidden worlds
the gods are sleeping the goddesses are dancing
we watch them and we are pleased
we all worship and adore them
that is glory enough
for all of us
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Zero Hour
A lost age of forgotten dreams
Reflections in a broken mirror
Hiding the images of hway might have been
Time stands still as the glass water shatters
Beneath the strain of humanity's dying voice
No hope, no fear, no choice
Lost hope, one fear, last chance
Welcome to zero hour
The gods look on, desperate to comprehend
The moment it all failed
Their tears fall to the earth
Polluted with humanity's sins
And they close their eyes
Their children have lost their way.
No hope, no fear, no choice
Lost hope, one fear, last chance
Welcome to zero hour
Time begins anew, the gods awaken
>From their sleep
And with it a new dream
Like the Phoenix we are reborn from the
Ashes of the past
The choice is ours, a new dawn, a new hope,
A new age
As we begin at zero hour.
song performed by by Quo Vadis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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