A Picture
I strolled last eve across the lonely down;
One solitary picture struck my eye:
A distant ploughboy stood against the sky—
How far he seemed above the noisy town!
Upon the bosom of a cloud the sod
Laid its bruised cheek as he moved slowly by,
And, watching him, I asked myself if I
In very truth stood half as near to God.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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When Time Stood Still
Far beyond the things you see
Time rolls on eternally
Got a thing about it
Just cant live without it
Sitting there inside your mind
Just waiting for the clock to chime
On a lonely line
Stood a lonely man
No pictures on an empty wall
No body there no one at all
Just echoes in the ivory halls
When time stood still
Days line up outside the door
Thought time had stopped there was no more
Been a lonely world
Such a lonely world
No pictures on an empty wall
No toulouse, vincent, or pablo
Just echoes in the ivory halls
When time stood still
No big machine or april showers
No submarines no plastic flowers
Just echoes in the ivory towers
When time stood still
When time stood still
When time stood still
When time stood still
song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Helen and You and the Bombed Out Factory
Ought we to go in there?
Helen asked
as you both stood outside
the bombed out factory
off Rockingham Street
sure we should
you said
but it's got
STAY OUT signs
on the big doors
she said
you looked at her
with her thick lens glasses
and her hair tied in plaits
nibbling her finger in anxiety
come on in
you said
nothing will happen to you
while you're with me
she didn't look convinced
what if someone sees us?
she asked
no one cares around here
kids are always going
on bombsites
you said
she looked around
her eyes seemingly larger
than they were
are you sure?
she said
yes now come on
and you took
her small hand
and pulled her through
a small opening
in the side
where other kids
had made an entrance
she a pulled face
on the other side
of the gate
and rubbed her arm
where a line of blood showed
look
she said
I've scratched myself
you dabbed at it
with a grey handkerchief
and spittle and she watched
as you cleared up
the line of blood
will it be all right?
yes
you said
it'll be fine
and you walked on
across the yard
and into the bombed out factory by
a door hanging
on its hinges
and into the dark interior
she stood by the entrance inside
and took in the semi darkness
it's frightening
she said
no one is here
you said
how do you know?
she asked
it's too quiet
you said
she leaned closer to you
and grabbed your arm
what was that?
she whispered
a rat probably
what? she said
a rat
you said
let's go out
she said
nothing will hurt you
while I'm here
and you patted
the toy gun
in the belt
of your jeans
she looked at you
then out
into the semi darkness
you walked in
and up the stone stairs
by a wall
and she followed
her breathing
becoming louder
as you walked up
once at the top
and along a landing
you came to a small office
where the door was missing
and there was a hole
in the roof where a bomb
had blown it off
as well as other parts
of the building
you stood
looking around
the room
where rain had rotted
what furniture remained
and on the floor
were books soaked
and rotting
Helen said
can we go now?
you looked up
through the hole
in the roof
and there
was the afternoon sun
and a white cloud
moving slowly across
a blue sky
and she moved
next to you
and kissed your cheek
but you didn't know why.
poem by Terry Collett
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Half In Day, Half In Night!
what if you moved the mountain?
raised your hand and stilled the storm?
fed the hungry, healed the sick,
and stood up and stopped all wars?
what if you peeled back the mask of prejudice,
and exposed the beating heart?
what if you walked on the water?
what if you built a temple,
using only your own hands?
what if you made your life a prayer?
what if you gave all you had to the poor?
what if you did all of this,
and it still wasnt enough?
would you be willing to go on?
what if i gave you my heart,
my spirit, and my soul?
and laid my body at your feet,
sacrificing my dreams for yours?
what if i stood up like a man
and demanded an answer?
would you know,
and would you care?
what if i opened the door
and flew into the night?
would there be a light on
when i returned?
what if i just dont know
anything else to say or do?
so what if i just be me?
would you recognize the man
standing, half in day,
and half in night?
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Eight O'Clock
He stood, and heard the steeple
Sprinkle the quarters on the morning town.
One, two, three, four, to market-place and people
It tossed them down.
Strapped, noosed, nighing his hour,
He stood and counted them and cursed his luck;
And then the clock collected in the tower
Its strength, and struck.
poem by Alfred Edward Housman
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In Contact With An Angel
Still asleep in beautiful repose
A knock I heard on my door
Guess the intruder was to the door very close
Cos at my inquiry his voice, though pale became as bold as ore
I, opening my door looked at the little God-created creature
As he stood helplessly like a log of wood
Please sire, he asked in a well-mannered nature
Can you, if you don't mind offer me some food?
God! , he was clad in a garment, so poor
And he looked so cold as snow
How could I now deny him of what he asked for?
Though yonder he came from I don't know
Please, the little stranger asked again
I know you know not me
But please help quench this hunger, this pang of pain
And I ever shall be grateful to thee
As I lay before him a luscious dinner
He looked at the delicacies turn by turn
A smile creased over his cheek like that of a winner
And before long he devoured it all one by one
And suddenly, the little boy in transfiguration turned white
Thank you for helping an angel says he to me
And in a deep bow ascended with the speed of light
And as I stood awe-struck I beheld what I had seen
Wow, I had helped a blessed creature
What a blessed creature I am, I said to myself.14: 59: 31.15/11/10
poem by Olajide Ajibola
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Ellen Terry in the Merchant of Venice
As there she lives and moves upon the scene,
So lived and moved this radiant womanhood
In Shakespeare's vision; in such wise she stood
Smiling upon Bassanio; such her mien
When pity dimmed her eyelids' golden sheen,
Hearing Antonio's story, and the blood
Paled on her cheek, and all her lightsome mood
Was gone. This shape in Shakespeare's thought has been!
Thus dreamt he of her in gray London town;
Such were her eyes; on such gold-colored hair
The grave young judge's velvet cap was set;
So stood she lovely in her crimson gown.
Mine were a happy cast, could I but snare
Her beauty in a sonnet's fragile net.
poem by Thomas Bailey Aldrich
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Black Bruises I
I can stare into the blackness,
the void of many abysses
behind every dark curtains
I can endure calm and silence
watching pole dancers grind,
watching stars scintillate,
watching still shadows on the walls,
watching dislimned reflections,
watching trees pass me by,
watching ethers wash the screen,
watching my lonely feet,
watching little things sway;
but am I the only one watching
these black bruised visions?
poem by Norman Santos
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Lonely
There was an old man
sat on a park bench,
his trousers were baggy,
his hair was unkempt.
It flowed long and white
right down to his shoes
and children would pass by
looking bemused.
A glint in his eye
and a glow on his cheek
he sat all day long
not a word did he speak,
but should you have asked him
why he was there
he'd had given you reasons, I'm sure
with a stare.
He sat on the park bench
eating some berries,
he didn't look sad
and he didn't look merry,
then just when the church clock
struck quarter to four
the old man got up
and he fell to the floor
Nobody noticed him tumble
nobody even passed by
and as sunshine hid behind a cloud
that lonely old man, he did die.
But sometimes as I pass that bench
I have a strange feeling inside
that someone is eating a berry or two
and watching the people go by
poem by Ruth Walters
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One Afternnon that Summer.
Despite the fact
that other local kids
were in the hay barn playing
Jane stood at the barn doors
looking in apprehensively
and you stood beside her
waiting for her to move in
or say something
but she just stood looking in
are we allowed in to play?
she asked
sure as long as we don't
cause damage to the hay bales
you replied
and she sniffed the air
and moved in
and looked around
the huge barn
with its semi dark
and smells of hay
and captured sun
and warmth
the other kids played
but took no notice
of Jane or you
as you entered
closed the doors
and moved around
the hay strewn floor
haven't you been
in a hay barn before?
you asked looking
at her bright summer dress
and white socks and sandals
yes years ago
she said
as she paused
at the edge
of the nearest hay bale
and sat down
and you sat beside her
in the semi dark
with sunlight making
small light through cracks
and holes in the walls
I don't like mice and rats
she said
and I saw one once
in another barn
and it frightened me
you sat in silence
for a few moments
taking in the air and smells
and then the other kids
ran off out side
into the sunlight
talking of playing
down by the pond
and catching things
you sat still
until their voices died off
and then she said
why have you
brought me in here?
you looked at her eyes
in the dull light
and her lips moving
with their small speech
to be alone with you
without prying eyes
you said
oh I see
she replied
and stood up
and climbed upwards
on the hay bales
with you following
behind her
seeing her sway
as she moved
her hands pulling
her upwards
her legs taking each step
onto a hay bale carefully
then having reach
high up in the barn
she sat down
and you sat beside her
if my father saw me here
he'd think things
Jane said
and she looked at you
with her large eyes
what things? you asked
watching her lay back
with her hands
behind her head
I don't know
he never said
she muttered
as she lay there
she lifted a leg
and her dress
slipped downwards
revealing a glimpse
of naked thigh
that's parents for you
you uttered
never saying
what they think
or saying things
but don't explain
you lay down
beside her
on the hay
as outside the barn
the soft sound
of pitter patter
on the roof
of sudden rain.
poem by Terry Collett
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The Marvelous Toy
When I was just a wee little lad, full of health and joy
My father homeward came one night and gave to me a toy.
A wonder to behold it was with many colors bright
And the moment I laid eyes on it, it became my hearts delight.
It went zip when it moved and bop when it stopped whirrrrr when it stood
Still
I never knew just what it was and I guess I never will.
The first time that I picked it up I had a big surprise.
For right on its bottom were two big buttons that looked like big green eyes.
I first pushed one and then the other, then I twisted its lid.
And when I set it down again, this is what it did.
It went zip when it moved and bop when it stopped whirrrrr when it stood still
I never knew just what it was and I guess I never will.
It first marched left and then marched right, then marched under a chair
And when I looked where it had gone it wasnt even there.
I started to cry but my daddy laughed cause he knew that I would find.
When I turned around my marvelous toy would be chugging from behind.
It went zip when it moved and bop when it stopped and whirrrrr when it stood
Still
I never knew just what it was and I guess I never will.
The years have gone by too quickly it seems, I have my own little boy.
And yesterday I gave to him my marvelous little toy
His eyes nearly popped right out of his head and he gave a squeal of glee...
Neither one of us knows just what it is but he loves it just like me.
It still goes zip when it moves and bop when it stops, whirrrrr when it
Stands still
I never knew just what it was and I guess I never will.
song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Turnaboout
As large as life she stood there
Kissed my cheek and called my old nickname
And though several years had passed
Both of us still looked quite the same
I said hi relaxed a bit
Then asked her how she'd been all these years
She told me she was feeling fine
Came to see a friend who lived up here
Told me she had finished school
And then went on to college for a year
I asked if she had married
Slowly down her cheek there came a tear
She said just an itchy eye
It must be the weather way up here
Told her I can't stand the cold
It freezes me and I can't feel my ears
We talked a bit about Mobile
And thought about how it has never changed
I told her I was a comin' home
To spend some time and hoped it wouldn't rain
She asked if she could see me then
And we could spend some time now and then
Because I lived so far away
Was still no chance why we could not be friends
I drove her to the waiting plane
Watched that big jet streaking through the sky
Thought about the sad young girl
And the time that I just saw her cry
That flame must still be burning bright
I think I'll catch a later flight today
It's time for me to go on home
And spend a day or two down by the bay
song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Turnabout
By: jimmy buffett
1970
As large as life she stood there
Kissed my cheek and called my old nickname
And though several years had passed
Both of us still looked quite the same
I said hi relaxed a bit
Then asked her how shed been all these years
She told me she was feeling fine
Came to see a friend who lived up here
Told me she had finished school
And then went on to college for a year
I asked if she had married
Slowly down her cheek there came a tear
She said just an itchy eye
It must be the weather way up here
Told her I cant stand the cold
It freezes me and I cant feel my ears
We talked a bit about mobile
And thought about how it has never changed
I told her I was a comin home
To spend some time and hoped it wouldnt rain
She asked if she could see me then
And we could spend some time now and then
Because I lived so far away
Was still no chance why we could not be friends
I drove her to the waiting plane
Watched that big jet streaking through the sky
Thought about the sad young girl
And the time that I just saw her cry
That flame must still be burning bright
I think Ill catch a later flight today
Its time for me to go on home
And spend a day or two down by the bay
song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Unicorn 3
What was known, was known. They asked
the artist who had sat all that bright morning, cool upon the hill,
to draw the trees in front of him, as sunlight crept
among the leaves, now here, now there,
lighting, upon the moss, the dewdrops one by one
sun-sipped; when the unicorn was, in a moment, there;
there, detached, yet offered; they asked the artist how it was.
He said that as the sun moved round and caught the leaves,
a love arose; so that when that creature was, so quietly, there,
it was no different from the love.
At first it stood quite still,
as if it knew what made it easier for him;
then later, walked around, sometimes its head raised so that the
sunlight caught its horn; moved, so that the artist then might know
what moved it. It was love.
Some asked eagerly: was it then as if the creature
drew itself? The artist could not answer. That was not untrue; and yet,
it was not quite like that. Rather, what was known, was known.
Known gently; meekly; sweetly. It seems
there is no other way for love.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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The Spark That Bled
I accidentally touched my head
and noticed that it had been bleeding
for how long i did not know.
What was this, I thought, that struck me?
What kind of weapons have they got?
the softest bullet ever shot...
I stood up and I said yeah!!
I stood up and i said yeah
I stood up and i said Hey, Yeah!
From this moment on
blaring like a trumpet
comin from above us
and somewhere below
the confidence of knowing
decsending to relieve us
of the struggle to believe its so
I stood up and i said yeah
I spoke up and i said Hey
I stood up and i said hey yeah
And it seemed to cause a chain reaction
It had momentum it was gaining traction
it was all the rage it was all the fashion
the outreached hands had resigned themselves to
holding on to something that they never had
and thats too bad
'cause in reality there was no reaction
i accidentally touched my head
and saw that it was bleeding
for how long i did not know.
song performed by by Flaming Lips
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Stanzas To A Hindoo Air
Oh! my lonely--lonely--lonely--Pillow!
Where is my lover? where is my lover?
Is it his bark which my dreary dreams discover?
Far--far away! and alone along the billow?
Oh! my lonely-lonely-lonely-Pillow!
Why must my head ache where his gentle brow lay?
How the long night flags lovelessly and slowly,
And my head droops over thee like the willow!
Oh! thou, my sad and solitary Pillow!
Send me kind dreams to keep my heart from breaking,
In return for the tears I shed upon thee waking;
Let me not die till he comes back o'er the billow.
Then if thou wilt--no more my lonely Pillow,
In one embrace let these arms again enfold him,
And then expire of the joy-but to behold him!
Oh! my lone bosom!-oh! my lonely Pillow!
The Lonely One
After the show you walked right past.
Arms reached out for your autograph.
And as you flashed your backstage pass.
I caught your eye with a camera's flash.
When the band came out they stood behind you.
Cymbals crashed, the lights went blue.
You stood alone in the halo's haze.
Shinny guitar hung on gold lamay.
And you, you were the lonely one.
You were the lonely one.
When you perform it's so intense.
When the critics pan I write in your defense.
I understand I'm just a fan, I'm just a fan.
When I get home I turn off the alarm.
I've checked the phone, no messages on.
I play the ones from yesterday.
I play you're song just to hear you say that....
You, you're the lonely one.
You are the lonely one.
You, you're the lonely one.
You are the lonely one
song performed by by Wilco
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Funeral Of A Child
Three years ago, I passed a little church
While I walked on my way
Sorrow rang out from the steeple bells
As in the cemetery a group of people gathered
I stopped to watch for a moment
A small coffin being carried to the graveside
Where soon it would be laid
The priest stood beside it and slowly said
“The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away
We commit this child into the arms of the Lord
For his safe keeping for ever and ever
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.”
At the graveside I could see in the scene
A young girl about nineteen and young man about twenty one
Both were heartbroken because it was their child
Their one any only son
Being laid to rest, but never to be forgotten
I turned to go on my way, when I saw from the grave
A stairway to the sky appear
On each step an angel stood all looking young and fair
I stood astonished for a while
As up the stairs walked a child
From that day to this I wonder all the time
What was the meaning of this sign
(Date written unknown)
poem by David Harris
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What If We...
what if we all stood up,
and laid down our guns?
what if we quit drilling for oil,
quit living for the deal?
what if we built a new world,
for our daughters and our sons?
a world that's honest,
caring, and real...
what if we stopped all invasions,
stopped the bombs and the greed?
what if we laid down religions,
and opened our hearts.
what if we gave our possessions
to those in real need?
what if we stopped pretending,
and made a stand...
what if we looked in the mirror,
with eyes that can see?
what if we walked away from nations,
and found the family of man?
what if we stood for truth,
freedom, and equality?
they say that we cant....
but what if we can?
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Curtain Of Desperation
They stood in the curtain of desperation
with cold eyes narrowed on one another.
Their hearts beating quicker as moments ticked by
and the dust that curled around their boots,
where one within would eventually lie.
They stood facing one another
on the lonely dusty street with no heart.
Their hands hovered nervously
over the guns they wore on their hips.
Each waited for the others move,
and slowly the hands moved closer
to the marking of one’s time.
Within seconds, it was over
as two cracks of thunder broke the silence
with smoke mixed with dust concealing momentarily
the lonely dusty street with no heart.
When it cleared, only one was standing,
the other lay in the dust cold and silent.
The curtain of desperation that was ripped apart
in the thunder, smoke and dust.
Now it cleared to the only one
who would walk away to face
the curtain of desperation
again on another day.
1 July 2011
poem by David Harris
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Les-Durham smoke
Twas like a transferred odd bargain;
the harbor waited - wraith's silence,
Hope lived in souls - utopian thence,
a notion spelled thrice - and again.
Had sent the mail - my filed advice,
upon moors stood, mist-blurred double-dyed,
the ghosts of sodding souls who died,
dark traveler asked for bride price.
In air he thumped, rhythmic like waves;
and cruel did ask for his death toll;
in town the women wore black stoles,
the 'lost in sea' dwell in void graves;
As Charon hummed, our ship entered,
in this harbor where life's borders,
in verse 'bout cold of rhymed folders;
wake-waters trail was off-centered.
He stood upon the moors - I knew
the wind whipped ropes upon head-mast,
- we drew the guns; he lifted fast;
my shots echoed, debt-law to ensue.
I felt the slug, he moved across,
alread'-a-ghost, on moors he stood;
Tasted the blood - lifted, I should,
red drops dropping on grass and moss.
I lit a rolled Les-Durham smoke,
children were watching me round-eyed;
twas May, perhaps another died,
I heard bells ring and three craws croak.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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