Poppies
Poppies in the fields that we see
blowing in the wind,
when you were born
is that when you sinned?
Or was it the men that picked you clean
and destoyed just what it is you mean?
They've changed your purpose
and made you breed
something vicious to crave and need.
You were created by Godly power.
Men came along and let you devour
the brains and the bodies
in poisonous ways.
They confused your beauty
in excange for greed.
They made you the haunting
of those in need
on the streets of every city.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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My City Warriors
A city so old
Made warriors born
Together and enforld
Without them its lorn
Beauty to uphold
A story untold
Made city leaven
Those warriors from heaven
Every new breath
Enlighten their death
Won on battlefield
No count, how many have been killed
Their blood so pure
Made this city cure
Proud of nation
A reason of celebration
That love for victory
A war for victory
Made us for freedom
They were for freedom
A city so old
Made warriors born
poem by Yatin yadvansh
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Somebody Out There
Who cares what I'm gonna do
Without you, without you
Who cares if I blow a few
Without you, without you
I go run after dark
I know you heard it all before
I'm doing fine without you
On my own
What do you expect of me
You used to run, used to be
Got my own life without you
(Now I know)
I've made it through
I paid my dues
There's somebody out there
And black and blue
And so confused
There's somebody out there
And so a few are born to lose
Getting me nowhere
I've made it through
I paid my dues
There's somebody out there
Who cares what you're gonna be
You're without me, you're without me
Who cares if you're coming clean?
You're without me, you're without me
You go run after dark
I think I heard it all before
I'm doing fine without you
(On my own)
What am I supposed to say
I'm used to all the games you play
I'm doing all right without you
(Now I know)
I've made it through
I paid my dues
There's somebody out there
And black and blue
And so confused
There's somebody out there
And all of you are born to lose
Getting me nowhere
I've made it through
I paid my dues
There's somebody out there
It's been weighing on my mind
And taking up my day
Then I opened up my eyes
Nothing left to say
I wanna take the time to find
Can you help me on my way
So if you push me down in time
I've made it through
I paid my dues
There's somebody out there
And black and blue
And so confused
There's somebody out there
And all of you are born to lose
Getting me nowhere
I've made it through
I paid my dues
There's somebody out there
There's somebody out there
There's somebody out there
song performed by by Holly Valance
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Haunting
(carly simon)
Theres always someone haunting someone - haunting someone
Like an echo in the wind leaves, unreconciled -
Waiting to be picked up and bounced down again on
Listeners ears
Theres always someone haunting someone - haunting someone
And you know who I am
Though I never leave my name or number
Im locked inside of you so it doesnt matter
Theres always someone haunting someone - haunting someone
And you know who I am
Though I never leave my name or number
Im locked inside of you so it doesnt matter
Theres always someone haunting someone - haunting someone
And I cant sleep easy
cause Im afraid of dreaming
And then the memory of the dream
Theres always someone haunting someone
Haunting someone
Haunting someone
song performed by by Carly Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Chaos, Order, Chaos, Beauty And Ugliness...
beauty must a purpose
have, for instance beauty that
gives peace and
harmony to the world,
presumably this world is a world of chaos,
and chaos is wanton
and understood to be messy and
undesirable, makes the mind
to lack the necessary focus
but what is focus for? what is thinking for?
again, you return to purpose
focus must have a purpose
and thinking must have another purpose
but what is the purpose of purpose?
seems that purpose is beauty
and that purpose without beauty is not desirable,
and so on and so forth,
people get so confused, they want order as though order itself is
beauty
as though it is one purpose that we need,
the universe must have an order
a system, every planet orbiting around the sun must have
a purpose
as though they are human beings like us
as though they are us
look at this poem, read it so well,
it has no purpose but to make you think
make you doubt
that perhaps beauty to be beauty must be wanton
and chaotic, which by itself is a reality
and reality is always
beautiful,
it has always a purpose and this is what you think it to be
right now, but is this really so?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Is This The World We Created?
Words and music by freddie mercury and brian may
Just look at all those hungry mouths we have to feed
Take a look at all the suffering we breed
So many lonely faces scattered all around
Searching for what they need
Is this the world we created?
What did we do it for?
Is this the world we invaded
Against the law?
So it seems in the end
Is this what were all living for today?
The world that we created
You know that every day a helpless child is born
Who needs some loving care inside a happy home
Somewhere a wealthy man is sitting on his throne
Waiting for life to go by
Is this the world we created?
We made it on our own
Is this the world we devastated
Right to the bone?
If theres a God in the sky looking down
What can he think of what weve done
To the world that he created?
song performed by by Queen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tonight stars do twinkle (English sonnet)
Tonight stars do twinkle with their glowing light
while the wonders from God's hand do shine
and some are dim and some are white and bright
as they display a power Godly and divine
and from the moment they did begin
every night they do find their way
as Godly beacons to a world of sin
until the very break of day
while constantly they do glow
and in the darkness do appear
as if some hidden purpose they do know,
as if to them constantly Godly power is near
as they are shining always sparkling
and to onlookers some wonder and joy they do bring
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Light Is Always Green
We dig our models with the brains the size of models
And cars that we can trust with out wives
And we dig converstations with girls from every nation
But not the ones that whisper or tell lies
Wherever theres a will theres a motorway
Wherever there is greed there is speed
And theyve always got to be there for yesterday
Welcome to the new scalextrics breed
And the light they always show to them
Is green, green, green
And the heels they always show to me
Are clean, clean, clean
Were only flying past so we dig our sevice fast
From the waiters to the women to the wine
Never mind the match, Ive an urgent date to catch
Get me to the concert hall on time
Pretending to be pilots in a war
Pretending to weave between the flak
No-one knows what the missions for
Blinkered horses on the track
And the light they always show to them
Is green, green, green
And the heels they always show to me
Are clean, clean, clean
song performed by by Housemartins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What God Made
God made coffee~
~God made tea~
~God made boy's~
~Just 4 me! ~
~God made flowers~
~God made dirt~
~God made boy's~
~So I can flirt! ~
~God made coke~
~God made Pepsi~
~God made me~
~So So Sexy! ~
~God made the ocean~
~God made the Sea~
~God needed a princess~
~So he created me
poem by Nicole Jackson
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An Awesome Creation
He knows all there is to know, about who you are and how you’ll grow,
The Creator God of all Eternity, Who, individually created you and me,
Creating every soul individually, with distinct character and personality,
Knitting each in the mother’s womb, with God’s Hands being the loom.
Not hidden from God as an embryo, and all my future He would know,
With all my ways ordained by God, for my life lived on the earthly sod,
And in a book are written all my days, tailored made, for God’s Praise,
When my life, I live in harmony, with others in God’s Plan for humanity.
I’m an awesome work of The Creator, made in the image of my Savior,
I’m fearfully and wonderfully made, and of my God I mustn’t be afraid,
For precious are His thoughts of me, for a Godly hope and prosperity,
With a purpose to be used by Him, for eternal reason not earthly whim.
Created both carefully and skillfully, for service with our Lord eternally,
In ways we fully don’t understand, as we’re being lead by God’s Hand,
For God has a work prepared for us, when in Christ we place our trust,
To be a part of the Body of Christ, when our lives we humbly sacrifice.
All knowledge to wonderful to attain, apart from the life in Christ I gain,
The thought, God has ordained for me, a life that spans all of Eternity,
Truly begs my weary heart to submit, unto the One who knowingly knit,
My earthly body and soul together, so that I may live with God forever.
(Copyright ©09/2009)
A Rector's Memory
St. Andrews, 1923
The, Gods that are wiser than Learning
But kinder than Life have made sure
No mortal may boast in the morning
That even will find him secure.
With naught for fresh faith or new trial,
With little unsoiled or unsold,
Can the shadow go back on the dial,
Or a new world be given for the old?
But he knows not that time shall awaken,
As he knows not what tide shall lay bare,
The heart of a man to be taken --
Taken and changed unaware.
He shall see as he tenders his vows
The far, guarded City arise --
The power of the North 'twixt Her brows --
The steel of the North in Her eyes;
The sheer hosts of Heaven above --
The grey warlock Ocean beside;
And shall feel the full centuries move
To Her purpose and pride.
Though a stranger shall he understand,
As though it were old in his blood,
The lives that caught fire 'neath Her hand --
The fires that were tamed to Her mood.
And the roar of the wind shall refashion,
And the wind-driven torches recall,
The passing of Time and the passion
Of Youth over all!
And, by virtue of magic unspoken
(What need She should utter Her power?)
The frost at his heart shall be broken
And his spirit be changed in that hour --
Changed and renewed in that hour!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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I Wonder.
In Flanders Fields red poppies grow.
But long dead warriors lie below.
Their rotted bodies nourishing
The scarlet poppies flourishing..
As if to draw attention to.
The graves of men who never knew.
That they would not see their homes more
But here they lie for evermore.
In Flanders Fields lost heroes lie.
In unmarked graves beneath the sky.
Far from the which gave them birth
They add their substance to the earth.
Which Belgian farmers cultivate.
Selected randomly by fate.
There can be few survivors left
But those of us who choose to go
To Flanders where the poppies grow.
All make the trip to show respect
Numbers dwindling as you'd expect.
There's very few now left to go.
To see the scarlet poppies glow
The numbers grow less day by day.
When they are called they must obey.
Rejoining those who went before.
The men who fell in the Great War.
I wonder will poppies still grow
When there's no one left to go.
Monday,25 June 2012
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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City Streets
The gaudy glow of neon lights
dispels the darkness of the nights
on city streets.
They pop and fizzle noisily
creating a cacophony
on city streets.
The sober folks walk warily
and drunks stagger uncaringly
on city streets.
The ladies of the night parade
for there is money to be made
on city streets.
Drug dealers ready to retreat
if they should hear a coppers feet
on city streets.
The night shift workers wend their way
towards their work to start their day
on city streets.
The noisy revellers thin out
as one by one the signs go out
on city streets.
The gradually noises abate
and ghostly shadow congregate
on city streets.
For some few hours peace will reign
before the noise will start again
on city streets.
The early morning traffic sounds
start with the milkmen on their rounds
on city streets.
This builds up to an angry roar
as cars and lorries inward pour
on city streets
then when at last rush hour has passed
noise levels will subside at last
on city streets
I thank the lord that I am free
to leave this noise far behind me
on city streets.
I walked my beat the whole night
through exactly as I’m paid to do
on city streets.
I choose to live outside the town
where constant noise won’t get me down
on city streets.
My village is a quiet place
A haven where I need not face
the noisy streets.
8-Jun-07
poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Listen to the wind
Listen to the tranquil sonatas of the
Low blowing breeze and you'll think here
Is Mozart descended from Heaven to
Bring merriment to your happy heart
Listen to the wind as the mighty
Wind rocks the young of spirit
The wind will rock you and live you
Panting for more
Hear the sound of the great blowing wind
The wind is strong
The wind plays the majestic symphonies
To keep you spellbound and you will
Be enchanted by the spirit of the
The great cacophony of the myriads of
The the sheer ferocity of the souring
Lyrics of the almighty conquering wind
And you'll wish you too was blessed
To be born earlier and know how Beethoven
Came to compose the great symphonies
For he too must have been enchanted by
The sound of the high spirited blowing wind
The wind has a new melody to gladden your
Happy heart and your kind spirit with
Listen with an open mind and a clean soul
This exquisite melody the loving wind dedicates
Exclusively for you to immortalize you and
They'll remember you whose name is fused into
The song and make you live on five hundred more
Years after you have long departed from this earth
Appreciate the haunting mourning sound of the
Brooding wind and learn to live with it
The wind is God's greatest grand gift to Humanity
The life giving air you breath is His breath
That gives meaning for your being here
poem by Ngaka Motaung
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Polluted Waters From Polluted Minds
Polluted waters with stench unclean
are created by men that don't see the scene
in their mind's eye,
as they gaze at the green of money.
Factory emissions and sludge that runs
into the purest of waters that come
takes its toll
as it stagnates unclear and unfunny.
Polluted brains with unbridled greed
create these horrors that unjustifiably breed
dying fish and dying men
as the result of creating wealth.
Tiny streams that turn into lakes
and into rivers is all it takes
for the end result to occur,
the ruination of peoples' health.
How do we stop these megalomaniacs
from all the uncaring that really smacks
at the decency and moral obligation
to care for all of God's creation?
We must all strive to take them down
in every city and every town
that's affected by greed in this terrible way,
so our waters can sparkle again someday.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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The Wind is Blowing
The wind is blowing,
Blowing slow and fast on my skin,
Blowing fast and hard on his skin.
The wind is cold tonight,
Blowing scary in the woods,
Blowing swiftly throw the night.
The wind is warm today,
Blowing hard in town,
Blowing soft in the county.
The wind is cool,
Blowing all the time,
As they say,
The wind is blowing!
poem by Angela M. Maynard
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Ebony Eyes
Shes a miss beautiful supreme
A girl that others wish that they could be
If theres seven wonders of the world
Then I know shes gotta be number one
Shes a girl that cant be beat
Born and raised on ghetto streets
Shes a devastating beauty
A pretty girl with ebony eyes
Shes the sunflower of natures seeds
A girls that some men only find in their dreams
When she smiles it seems the stars all know
Cause one by one they start to light up the sky
Shes a girl that cant be beat
Born and raised on ghetto streets
Shes a devastating beauty
A pretty girl with ebony eyes
A girl that cant be beat
Born and raised on ghetto streets
A devastating beauty
A pretty girl with ebony eyes
When she starts talking soft and sweet
Like birds of spring her words all seem to sing
With a rhythm that is made of love
And the happiness that she only brings
Shes a girl that cant be beat
Born and raised on ghetto streets
Shes a devastating beauty
A pretty girl with ebony eyes
A girl that cant be beat
Born and raised on ghetto streets
A devastating beauty
A pretty girl with ebony eyes
Yeah, yea yea
.......yeah
Pretty black beauty
Yeah, hea yeah
Yea, yea, yeah, yea, yea, yeah
Yea, yea, yea, yea, yea, yea, yeah
Shes a girl that cant be beat
Born and raised on ghetto streets
Shes a devastating beauty
A pretty girl with ebony ey---es
Ebony ey---es
Ebony ey---es
Ebony ey---es
Ebony eyes
song performed by by Stevie Wonder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Wayward Wind
In the lonely shack by the railroad track
I spent my younger days
And I guess the sound of the outward bound
Made me a slave to my wanderin ways.
And the wayward wind is a restless wind
A restless wind that yearns to wander
And I was born the next of kin
The next of kin to the wayward wind.
Oh, I met him down in the border town
He vowed wed never part
Though he tried his best to settle down
Now Im all alone with a broken heart.
And the wayward wind is a restless wind
A restless wind that yearns to wander
And I was born the next of kin
The next of kin to the wayward wind.
And the wayward wind is a restless wind
A restless wind that yearns to wander
And I was born the next of kin
The next of kin to the wayward wind.
The next of kin to the wayward wind.
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Their Brains in the Bottom Drawer
With some people, the more power they receive,
and the bigger boots they get,
they file away their brains in the bottom drawer.
Their brains end up where there ass should be,
and their ass where their brains should be.
This leaves everyone to wonder,
did they get a degree in stupidity.
We meet them all the time,
and we all know the old saying,
a little power goes to their head.
How many times
have we heard that said?
Little people with big notions,
well beyond their station.
Some people are born to be leaders,
some others are the righter of wrongs.
Some think they know it all,
but most of them are dumb.
They abuse the power they have acquired
in a most idiotic way,
so in the bottom drawer their brains are bound to stay.
(2 May 2007)
poem by David Harris
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A Song Of Poppies
I love red poppies! Imperial red poppies!
Sun-worshippers are they;
Gladly as trees live through a hundred summers
They live one little day.
I love red poppies! Impassioned scarlet poppies!
Ever their strange perfume
Seems like an essence brewed by fairy people
From an immortal bloom.
I love red poppies! Red, silken, swaying poppies!
Deep in their hearts they keep
A magic cure for woe--a draught of Lethe--
A lotus-gift of sleep.
I love red poppies! Soft silver-stemmed, red poppies,
That from the rain and sun
Gather a balm to heal some earth-born sorrow,
When their glad day is done.
poem by Virna Sheard
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Why Don't Ya Go?
Get away... get away
Don't bother me today
I don't wanna hear
It... not here
Not now
How o how
Can you talk to me?
Ignore me happily
And hope i don't die
Why won't you just leave
Take all your junk with a mighty heave
I don't want your junk today, let me suffer from the temptation of yesterday
The failure of the past
The memory of the iconoclast
The Open book, the one who is the archetype of fey
You've done this to me, so why don't ya just go
Don't talk to me no mo'
I won't listen
I'll devour your words and make them my identity
This hate, this is me, can't you see
All you did to me? Why don't you ever stop or relent
It doesn't matter if i repent
You're always there
Just to dare
Me to think deeper with honesty, you fuel the hate i crave
I hate you, because you made me hate me, now there is no one to save
Me from the hate, because...because... it's made me complete
It's given me a purpose, O how i revel in defeat...
poem by David Knox
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