The Moderator
Dr. Iron-fist and Dr. Steel-hammer!
The lions' teeth are well sharpened and they are ready for meat;
But you still have the 500,000 documents hidden in your room.
Time,
Generation,
The nature of things and the seas!
But the moderator was still waiting for your words.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Hammer To Fall
Words and music by brian may
Here we stand or here we fall
History wont care at all
Make the bed light the light
Lady mercy wont be home tonight yeah
You dont waste no time at all
Dont hear the bell but you answer the call
It comes to you as to us all
Were just waiting
For the hammer to fall
Oh evry night and every day
A little piece of you is falling away
But lift your face the western way
Build your muscles as your body decays yeah
Toe your line and play their game yeah
Let the anaesthetic cover it all
Till one day they call your name
You know its time for the hammer to fall
Rich or poor or famous
For your truth its all the same (oh no oh no)
Lock your door the rain is pouring
Through your window pane (oh no)
Baby now your struggles all in vain
For we who grew up tall and proud
In the shadow of the mushroom cloud
Convinced our voices cant be heard
We just wanna scream it louder and louder louder
What the hell we fighting for?
Just surrender and it wont hurt at all
You just got time to say your prayers
While your waiting for the hammer to hammer to fall
Its gonna fall
Hammer..you know..hammer to fall
Waiting for the hammer to fall now baby
While youre waiting for the hammer to fall
Give it to me one more time
song performed by by Queen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Thor
I'm flying high through the clouds
On top of my wheels of steel
You're trying to hide away from me
I'm wearing my belt of strength
Along with my iron-gloves
My power is strong and glorious
Why the heavens scream my name I will tell You now
Cause I am Thor (The ThunderGod)
And I decide where the lightning strikes
If You don't believe it
My hammer will show You how
When You sail through the seas
In search for glory and gold
Winds carrying You away from home
You better pray for You're life's
And sacrifice to me now
You better watch out cause I am near
Why the heavens scream my name I will tell You now
Cause I am Thor (The ThunderGod)
And I decide where the lightning strikes
If You don't believe it
My hammer will show You how
When You see clouds ahead
And rain is pouring down
There is no time for You to pray
I'm raising my hammer high
To swing it with all my might
My power is strong and glorious
Why the heavens scream my name I will tell You now
Cause I am Thor (The ThunderGod)
And I decide where the lightning strikes
If You don't believe it
My hammer will show You how
song performed by by Zonata
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Two
The steam hammer pounds with a regularity on steel I should envy.
Neither the hammer nor the steel seems to be suffering from this
terrible meeting between them, proving something vaguely pointed,
that some things must be done, regardless of cost, and finally the
cost too is absorbed in the doing that has become a ritual between
two fated opponents.
poem by David Ignatow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hidden Talent
Written by gerry beckley, 1998
Found on human nature.
Just like a person from another world
My eyes can see inside you, little girl
I see things that you dont want to see
I see things youre trying to hide from me
Im just trying to make you understand
All the ways you can affect this man
From the moment that you came in touch
With the power there to burn so much
Youve got hidden talent (yeah)
I bet youre gonna find some hidden talent, oh
You know your past is whats been bugging you
If youre ready girl ... do what you gotta do
Look for your life between the lines
Bad directions and poor designs
Youve got hidden talent (hidden talent, yeah)
I bet youre gonna find some hidden talent, oh
Hidden talent (hidden talent, yeah)
Check it out you ... got it, hidden talent, oh
With the advantage of perspective i
See theres more to you than meets the eye
But now the time must come to spread your wings and fly
Yeah (hidden talent) yeah
Hidden talent (hidden talent, yeah)
I bet youre gonna find some hidden talent, oh
Hidden talent (hidden talent, yeah)
Check it out ... you got it, hidden talent, oh
Hidden talent (hidden talent, yeah)
Affair without warning
Hidden talent, mmm (mmm)
Hidden talent (hidden talent, yeah)
I bet youre gonna find some hidden talent, oh
(fade)
song performed by by America
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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White Bird Of Texas
The last time I spoke to my aunt before she died
She was describing to me this incredible owl
That was sitting in a tree
It meant nothing to me
But it means a lot more now
Because Im waiting, Im waiting, Im waiting for the bird
Im waiting, Im ready, I know it is my turn
All those cigarettes, alcohol, this bodys through
Youre gone for sure when the bird comes for you
And the last time I spoke to my uncle before he died
It was the very same week, but one year before her
He was sitting alone in his study, on the phone
When a giant hawk flew by
Said, Im waiting, Im waiting, Im waiting for the bird,
I didnt expect to be noticed or heard.
Oh, elizabeth, help me, I cant find the room,
Youre gone for sure when the bird comes for you.
And, oh, it is scary
And, oh, it is cold to the bone
My bodys not ready for my mind to learn
I have just been consigned here to rot in the earth
Said, Im waiting, Im waiting, Im waiting for the bird,
It comes in and takes you away from this world.
Gate twenty-seven, I cant find the room.
Youre free to board now, theyre waiting for you.
Im waiting, Im waiting, Im waiting for the bird
Ive seen it three times now, theres nothing to learn
And dont be surprised if the skys bright and blue
And the white bird of texas comes barreling through
song performed by by Liz Phair
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Heat can also be produced by the impact of imperfectly elastic bodies as well as by friction. This is the case, for instance, when we produce fire by striking flint against steel, or when an iron bar is worked for some time by powerful blows of the hammer.
quote by Hermann von Helmholtz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We Are! We Are!
we are not bolts of lightning,
or even unexpected rain...
we are the work of chapters,
the forging of steel.
the spider's web empty for a month of nights,
the garden sowed again and again.
trees cut and stacked in firewood lengths,
babies born in cementaries,
atop unmarked graves.
maps lost, histories forgotten,
dull knives sharpened again and again.
footprints in sand,
that the waves wash away.
wise men following the star,
generation to generation.
brown hands picking fruit,
that never touches their lips.
we are a thousand deaths,
fires that raged and were spent.
stars formed from dust,
that return to the same.
all these things and more,
and often less...
we are the mortar between bricks,
from which life is made!
we are! we are!
and that is enough!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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0005 The anvil of his mind
He’s a regular on the TV arts review slot;
sitting there waiting his turn to speak,
he projects plainspoken ordinary man,
working class with intelligence;
more mouth, and he’d be
a trades union official;
less, and he’d be one of the invisible
guys in the back room, on the shop floor
who mend it for you, beautifully, and on time,
loving their craft, their skills;
he’s present here as writer-critic.
waiting, attentive, business-like,
his sleeves rolled up as if they always are,
his forearms are as thick as Popeye’s;
you almost look for the anchor tattoo; .
no pipes on the TV set of course these days..
and as he sits he holds his arms and elbows
out and forward from his body,
his hands open, ready –
what does this strange posture mean?
I’m fascinated as I watch..
is his inner self a potter,
about to soften and remould the literary clay?
or an expert butcher, ready to cleave the bleeding carcass
of the artwork into neat digestibles?
those strong forearms – ah yes, I’ve got it:
he’s a good old-fashioned blacksmith!
he’s ready to take the glowing iron ingot
hot from the artist’s imaginative fire
from his assistant who’s been heating it,
his left hand’s reaching for the long smith’s pincers,
his right hand reaches for Thor’s mighty hammer of justice..
and in the shortest time with deftest craft
he’s fashioned it just perfectly as you would wish it..
but hold on – he’s been asked for his opinion;
now as he gives it vigorous expression,
sells it with his whole body-language,
his hands are busy fashioning
something more malleable, more intricate;
a wrought-iron gate perhaps
to the great house of art
I wouldn’t fancy him as my initial editor;
but with his craftsman’s common touch
I bet I’d be grateful later on.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Let The Hammer Fall
Its getting closer now
The clock strikes midnight time
It is the tolling of the judgement bell
You fear the dead of night
There aint no place to hide
This is your point of no return
Now we are ready to strike, again
Its getting far to late, my friend
Let the hammer fall
We are above the law
Let our power show
That were in full control of your destiny
Now we are ready to strike, again
Its getting far to late, my friend
Let the hammer fall
Oh, oh, oh
Were getting closer now
The chill of distant eyes
Your on a dead end street into the night
Now we are ready to strike, again
Its getting far to late, my friend
Let the hammer fall
Let the hammer fall
song performed by by Hammerfall
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Young Explorers
Two young lions surveyed the land
And paused to take it in,
As if the future could be planned,
So they would always win.
With hiding places here and there,
Shade from the burning sun
And danger spots they must beware,
Yet spaces they could run...
Life wasn't always hide and seek,
Life wasn't always bright...
For soon the day would pass its peak
And fade into the night...
Two young lions with lots to learn,
Exploring now and then.
When hunting, they must twist and turn
To help them catch again.
For now, they stood with dignity
And with a sense of pride...
Majestically and mightily,
As brothers, side-by-side.
Two young lions must carry on
The legacy of life,
Aware, they, too, will soon be gone,
Though battling to survive.
Their journey started years ago
When they were cubs at play...
Not knowing who was friend or foe,
Until they found their way...
Two young lions, aware, astute...
At one with Nature's Laws...
To children's eyes, they may look cute,
Yet watch those teeth and claws!
The young explorers hold no grudge
When things are fair and square.
Most of the time, they don't ask much...
They'll take the lions' share...
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Young Explorers'.
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If you had teeth of steel, you could eat iron coconuts.
Lions
Lions like to eat
and to them meat is meat,
and the difference
between wild beast and man
does not matter at all.
When the Romans fed
Christians to the hungry beasts,
they ate them without
any remorse
and the difference
between Christian and sinner
did not matter at all.
When tourists leave their vehicle
in a animal park,
lions will kill and eat them
without any consideration
to chairman, president or millionaire;
like any natural prey.
Once a angel made lions
play like kittens with Daniel,
but before his enemies
touched the bottom
of the den,
they were broken into pieces.
[Reference=>“22 My God hath sent his angel, and hath shut the lions' mouths, that they have not hurt me: forasmuch as before him innocence was found in me; and also before thee, O king, have I done no hurt.
24 And the king commanded, and they brought those men which had accused Daniel, and they cast them into the den of lions, them, their children, and their wives; and the lions had the mastery of them, and brake all their bones in pieces or ever they came at the bottom of the den.” Daniel 6.22+24
poem by Gert Strydom
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The William Challenge
steel cabinets have always been
closed and cold
that's where treasures are kept
and dandruffs are what steel
cabinets are made of,
rusty feelings, exclusions of
the hairsplitting documents
and last wills, they all belong there
you get dandruff from so much
worries, afraid to take the plunge
the warm bath, and steel cabinets
are pretty much like that,
afraid to open, keeping things
to themselves, locked in their own
selves,
now you must write about
something not about love
if you're not convinced
about the worth and
necessity of writing
about it.
try hate.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Build Your Weapons
Let me light the fire!
Build your weapons
These nations are overrun with you
Out of nation
To this end, we'll resist forever
Ready to kill all thrashy gods
With this machine cry out...FIRE!
The kids speed along when
The last night comes down
I hear you win
You break the sound barrier
To race down the streets
We hear you sharpen the weapons
Tonight the killer will come
With his smashing sound
Tomorrow behind you
Death will raise by your noise
The steel will be sold
Under the hammer
We will stir heaven and earth
You'll bump one's head on the stage
And your music will be all the rage
Suddenly a storm will
Sweep this town
The invaders and their
Weapons will be back
Move your ass build your kits
And face death again
At work to exist
Don't need restrictions
Raise the forceful fist
Forge ahead with fun
As long as I live
I will cross our weapons
To heat up the steel
It's time for an ovation
song performed by by Voivod
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hammer Of Love
I was a young man,
When the hammer came down,
Thought I could handle it,
Wouldn't do me no harm.
She was a young girl,
Stars in her hair,
Rings on her finger tips,
A diamond so rare.
Hammer came down from above,
Hammer, Hammer of love.
Oho, won't you save me.
She was a young girl,
With dangerous ways,
The tears of a demon,
Kissed by a saint.
Hammer came down from above,
Oh, Hammer, Hammer of love.
Oho, yeah.
Though you pound this bitter heart,
Down to a molten steel,
Cast it in the furnace,
Of your burning spinning wheel,
I will rise up through the flames,
To wrap you in my arms,
Brand you with my loving seal
And steal your tender charms.
Oh, yeah.
The scent of our loving,
Woke my desire,
She stirred my smouldering heart,
Left me on fire.
Oh, Hammer down from above,
Oh, Hammer, Hammer of love.
Hammer, how you saved me
Hammer, how you saved me
Saved my soul.
Hear me calling you,
Through the misty morning,
Mountain and Valley,
Ocean and Sea.
song performed by by Bad Company
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Kick It Up And Be Ready For Me
Kick it up and be ready for me.
Kick it up and be ready for me.
Kick it up and be ready for me.
I'll be waiting at the depot.
Kick it up and be ready for me.
Kick it up and be ready for me.
Kick it up and be ready for me.
I'll be waiting at the depot.
You said with your lips,
You also have had it.
I'll be waiting at the depot.
You said I was foolish,
But now you see where I'm at.
I'll be waiting at the depot.
You had your limousines,
And drove around in Cadillacs.
I'll be waiting at the depot.
And when that train comes,
I'll not be looking back.
Heartbreak from me has to go.
So...
Kick it up and be ready for me.
Kick it up and be ready for me.
Kick it up and be ready for me.
I'll be waiting at the depot.
Kick it up and be ready for me.
Kick it up and be ready for me.
Kick it up and be ready for me.
I'll be waiting at the depot.
You once valued your 'things' more than me.
I'll be waiting at the depot.
You once said to me only bling was your thing.
I'll be waiting at the depot.
But your bling rusted up and on me your mind clinged.
I'll be waiting at the depot.
And now duets with me you want to sing.
I'll be waiting at the depot.
You said with your lips,
You also have had it.
I'll be waiting at the depot.
You had your limousines,
And drove around in Cadillacs.
I'll be waiting at the depot.
And when that train comes,
I will not be looking back.
Heartbreak from me has to go,
So...
Kick it up and be ready for me.
All that nonsense I am leaving.
And at the depot I will be,
So...
If you're coming come with me,
To go.
Kick it up and be ready for me.
All that nonsense I am leaving.
And at the depot I will be,
So...
If you're coming come with me,
To go.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pursuit Of Strength
Please exhaust the iron men,
If strength means oblivion;
The roads of philosophy are few,
But their ideas stride forward,
Like a march of hidden nature.
My army is without me,
And within me it strays,
Making iron men obey and prostrate
For their strength that stings.
Words concentrate their efforts
On us when we are obliged to reply;
But silence created knowledge
For those who pursued it.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The house she refers to
She first told me of this house when I was a child
She wrote it in her documents and filed
A house so wild
Where the people are very cold
A house like a wrestling hold
Everyone scrambling for gold
There are murmurs and calls for hate
Which spreads amongst the offspring they procreate
To go and lie in wait
Until they receive orders to fire
At anyone who aims higher
So that they get what they require
She documents a house of takers
Wanting to acquire acres
Which they are not the makers
She documents a house of doom
Where deception is a costume
And aversion is spread from a control room
She documents a house of pain
Where there is nothing to gain
And says to me again and again
Beware and tread with care
For there are fumes of hate in the air
This she makes me aware
She tells me of this house each day
So I would not be lead astray
What then can I say
Before the bee stings
I would pray for certain things
One is for God to carry me on a pair of wings
To fly me on a fast pace
To a new place
Where He would put a smile on my face
A place of joy and peace
poem by Mark Nyamekye Boadi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hell Hath No Fury (#2)
With scalded words so slowly seeking sentences
The anger’s acrid smoke stank out that up-turned room
Those words, those words like devil darts
Took aim and slid sharp inside the heart of things not now unsaid
As the swirl of mess and circumstance took on a life full of its own
And the crash and shocks and shudders of nerves and feelings jangled
With shrill metallic chimes as if the world had opened up its wounds
It’s testament of death - and then with quickened breath
Those things that had lay hidden rose up and took control
Like strong steel to shard shattered and all that stood around
Hell hath no fury said the waif – as Lucifer reclaimed their wonder
And each fell back into their place still whole but wrought asunder.
poem by David Keig
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hell Hath No Fury
Those scalded words
A slow slithered scathing sentence
As anger’s acrid smoke
Be-tombed that ruptured room
Those words, those words like devil darts
Took aim and slid sharp
Inside the heart of things not now unsaid
As the swirl of mess and circumstance
Took on lives full of their own
And the crash and shocks and shudders
Of nerves and feelings jangle-d with shrill metallic chimes
As if the world had opened up its wounds
Its testament of death
And then with quickened breath
Those things that had lay hidden
Rose for now and took control
Like strong steel to shard shattering
And then there was soft sound
'Hell hath no fury' said the waif
Once more Lucifer sang his wonder
Each falling back into their place
Still whole but wrought asunder.
poem by David Keig
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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