Canada
(ACROSTIC)
Crown of her, young Vancouver; crest of her, old Quebec;
Atlantic and far Pacific sweeping her, keel to deck.
North of her, ice and arctics; southward a rival's stealth;
Aloft, her Empire's pennant; below, her nation's wealth.
Daughter of men and markets, bearing within her hold,
Appraised at highest value, cargoes of grain and gold.
poem by Emily Pauline Johnson
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Nuptial Ode on Canada
Written during the visit of delegates from the Lower Provinces
to negotiate for confederation.
Hail Britannia's noblest daughter,
Who is surrounded by the water
Of many a lake and broad sea,
Land of Beaver and Maple Tree.
Her lofty brow is wreathed with smiles,
For, from the far Atlantic isles
In pomp, have come their delegates,
All seeking to unite their fates
With Canada, great Northern Queen.
And now, throughout the land, is seen
High festival and stately dance,
Triumphant nuptials to advance.
And soon shall Red River valley
And distant Vancouver, rally
To form this empire gigantic,
From Pacific to Atlantic.
poem by James McIntyre
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Digging For Gold
They married on a fancy yacht out on the water
He knew she was young enough to be his daughter
There always questions in the heart of millionaires
Would she make heartfelt promises if the money was not there
And he said, do you love me, baby, do you want me to hold
Or are you just digging for gold
Do you care enough to give me your heart and soul
Or are you just digging for gold
She ran his weary heart through the ringer
And she wore him like the diamond ring around her finger
Well, his advances and affections, she managed to avoid
But, she got the lap of luxury and he got paranoid
And he said, do you love me, baby, do you want me to hold
Or are you just digging for gold
Do you care enough to give me your heart and soul
Or are you just digging for gold, digging for gold
Big house, limousines,
Fine wines, fine cuisines,
Vale and vegas twice a year,
Trips to paris on the leer
Black tuesday when that wall of wealth came crashing down
Bad news day when that little queen had to give back her crown
And he said, hey babe, we can live on love cuz love is worth much more
But he barely got his feelings out, she was half way to the door
And she never even heard him cry
Do you love me, baby, do you want me to hold
Or are you just digging for gold
Do you care enough to give me your heart and soul
Or are you just digging for gold
song performed by by Garth Brooks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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And if I have my choice between a pennant and a triple crown, I'll take the pennant every time.
quote by Carl Yastrzemski
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Stealth, Health and Wealth
Stealth, health and wealth, each a curious breed
Are not such strange bedfellows indeed.
Stealth, with its cunning and mysterious ways,
Escapes notice matter not the attention one pays.
With the suspicious this surreptitious wins in spite
Of all who strain for a glimpse of its sight.
Then there's health with its nefarious aim,
Favoring young and wealthy in its merciless game.
What justice is there as it forsakes the weak,
Choosing to stand by and laugh at the meek?
Or why does it change with no reason at all,
Ignoring vanquished victims imploring its call?
Now lastly take wealth, oh wealth so dear.
The worst irony of all may, indeed, lies here.
Many forfeit love and happiness for a chance
To tiptoe with this god in an all-too-short dance.
Then as stealth teams with wealth, it's time to pay
Costs of health escaping more notice every day.
poem by Gregory Huyette
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Crown of Gold, Crown of Thorn
In any quest for love, just like many others
A winner is proclaimed from all the contenders
The shining crown of gold, just one but who would wear
Decided by a judge, the heart or mind, either
and the winner is...
In this ever changing world, it's not easy to say
Who the real winner is till come the time and day
Was it the winner who lost or the loser who won
Or did the crown of gold became a crown of thorn
In this uncertain world, no one can ever say
Who'll really win or lose, only the time and day
poem by Pacific Hernandez
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A toast
There's wine in the cup, Vancouver,
And there's warmth in my heart for you,
While I drink to your health, your youth, and your wealth,
And the things that you yet will do.
In a vintage rare and olden,
With a flavour fine and keen,
Fill the glass to the edge, while I stand up to pledge
My faith to my western queen.
Then here's a Ho! Vancouver, in wine of the bonniest hue,
With a hand on my hip and the cup at my lip,
And a love in my life for you.
For you are a jolly good fellow, with a great, big heart, I know;
So I drink this toast
To the "Queen of the Coast."
Vancouver, here's a Ho!
And here's to the days that are coming,
And here's to the days that are gone,
And here's to your gold and your spirit bold,
And your luck that has held its own;
And here's to your hands so sturdy,
And here's to your hearts so true,
And here's to the speed of the day decreed
That brings me again to you.
Then here's a Ho! Vancouver, in wine of the bonniest hue,
With a hand on my hip and the cup at my lip,
And a love in my life for you.
For you are a jolly good fellow, with a great, big heart, I know;
So I drink this toast
To the "Queen of the Coast."
Vancouver, here's a Ho!
poem by Emily Pauline Johnson
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Love's Demesne
Old memories come trooping down
The vistas of the years;
In blue-girt robes of pleasure clad
Or garbed in tears.
Down from the days when hope was young
And sorrow never born,
My thoughts sweep o'er remembered scenes
Unto this morn.
Though motley company they are
Of smile or tear or frown,
They hold aloft the burnished gold
Of my heart's crown.
For through it all and over all
There gleams the light serene,
On purpled walls and crimson heights
In love's demesne.
poem by Joseph Seamon Cotter
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Ode For Washington’s Birthday
CELEBRATION OF THE MERCANTILE LIBRARY ASSOCIATION,
FEBRUARY 22, 1856
WELCOME to the day returning,
Dearer still as ages flow,
While the torch of Faith is burning,
Long as Freedom's altars glow!
See the hero whom it gave us
Slumbering on a mother's breast;
For the arm he stretched to save us,
Be its morn forever blest!
Hear the tale of youthful glory,
While of Britain's rescued band
Friend and foe repeat the story,
Spread his fame o'er sea and land,
Where the red cross, proudly streaming,
Flaps above the frigate's deck,
Where the golden lilies, gleaming,
Star the watch-towers of Quebec.
Look! The shadow on the dial
Marks the hour of deadlier strife;
Days of terror, years of trial,
Scourge a nation into life.
Lo, the youth, become her leader
All her baffled tyrants yield;
Through his arm the Lord hath freed her;
Crown him on the tented field!
Vain is Empire's mad temptation
Not for him an earthly crown
He whose sword hath freed a nation
Strikes the offered sceptre down.
See the throneless Conqueror seated,
Ruler by a people's choice;
See the Patriot's task completed;
Hear the Father's dying voice!
'By the name that you inherit,
By the sufferings you recall,
Cherish the fraternal spirit;
Love your country first of all!
Listen not to idle questions
If its bands maybe untied;
Doubt the patriot whose suggestions
Strive a nation to divide!'
Father! We, whose ears have tingled
With the discord-notes of shame,--
We, whose sires their blood have mingled
In the battle's thunder-flame,--
Gathering, while this holy morning
Lights the land from sea to sea,
Hear thy counsel, heed thy warning;
Trust us, while we honor thee!
poem by Oliver Wendell Holmes
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Harvest time
Pillowed and hushed on the silent plain,
Wrapped in her mantle of golden grain,
Wearied of pleasuring weeks away,
Summer is lying asleep to-day,--
Where winds come sweet from the wild-rose briers
And the smoke of the far-off prairie fires;
Yellow her hair as the goldenrod,
And brown her cheeks as the prairie sod;
Purple her eyes as the mists that dream
At the edge of some laggard sun-drowned stream;
But over their depths the lashes sweep,
For Summer is lying to-day asleep.
The north wind kisses her rosy mouth,
His rival frowns in the far-off south,
And comes caressing her sunburnt cheek,
And Summer awakes for one short week,--
Awakes and gathers her wealth of grain,
Then sleeps and dreams for a year again.
poem by Emily Pauline Johnson
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Vancouver Shakedown
Nazareth
We only came here to play rocknroll
Share some times with some people we know
Drink some wine
Give us some time
We aint no wise boys we aint no fools
We tried to play clean and keep to the rules
We take and we give, just playin our gig
But we got laid over
Ya we was done over
Somebody tell us whats goin down
Dont need another vancouver shakedown
Six miles high, six miles along
Chasin the sun weve come to sing you a song
Deliver our goods
Were just rocknroll dudes
All these behind us, and one more to go
Fly to vancouver, to do the lastshow
Its got to be good, like we know that it should
But we got laid over
Ya we was doneover
Somebody tell us whats goin down
Dont need another vancouver shakedown
Vancouver shakedown
Vancouver shakedown
We only came here to play rocknroll
Share some times with some people we know
Drink some wine
Give us some time
But we got laid over
Ya we was done over
Somebody tell us whats goin down
Dont need another vancouver shakedown
Vancouver shakedown
Vancouver shakedown
Vancouver shakedown
Vancouver shakedown
Vancouver shakedown
Vancouver shakedown
(words and music by nazareth)
Copyright 1975 jenevieve music (bmi)
song performed by by Nazareth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Brave New World
One spoke: "Come, let us gaily go
With laughter, love and lust,
Since in a century or so
We'll all be boneyard dust.
When unborn shadows hold the screen,
(Our betters, I'll allow)
'Twill be as if we'd never been,
A hundred years from now.
When we have played life's lively game
Right royally we'll rot,
And not a soul will care a damn
The why or how we fought;
To grub for gold or grab for fame
Or raise a holy row,
It will be all the bloody same
A hundred years from now."
Said I: "Look! I have built a tower
Upon you lonely hill,
Designed to be a daughter's dower,
Yet when my heart is still,
The stone I set with horny hand
And salty sweat of brow,
A record of my strength will sand
A hundred years from now.
"There's nothing lost and nothing vain
In all this world so wide;
The ocean hoards each drop of rain
To swell its sweeping tide;
The desert seeks each grain of sand
It's empire to endow,
And we a bright brave world have planned
A hundred years from now.
And all we are and all we do
Will bring that world to be;
Our strain and pain let us not rue,
Though other eyes shall see;
For other hearts will bravely beat
And lips will sing of how
We strove to make life sane and sweet
A hundred years from now.
poem by Robert William Service
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I'll never love Thee more
o
MY dear and only Love, I pray
That little world of thee
Be govern'd by no other sway
Than purest monarchy;
For if confusion have a part
(Which virtuous souls abhor),
And hold a synod in thine heart,
I'll never love thee more.
Like Alexander I will reign,
And I will reign alone;
My thoughts did evermore disdain
A rival on my throne.
He either fears his fate too much,
Or his deserts are small,
That dares not put it to the touch,
To gain or lose it all.
And in the empire of thine heart,
Where I should solely be,
If others do pretend a part
Or dare to vie with me,
Or if Committees thou erect,
And go on such a score,
I'll laugh and sing at thy neglect,
And never love thee more.
But if thou wilt prove faithful then,
And constant of thy word,
I'll make thee glorious by my pen
And famous by my sword;
I'll serve thee in such noble ways
Was never heard before;
I'll crown and deck thee all with bays,
And love thee more and more.
o
poem by James Graham
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Bilgeways Hold
(Bilgeways Hold)
Bilgeways hold. Boat 's atop the blocks
timber 's under the keel, the chain-bolts,
bumkins are hawling down the fore-tack
the timber daggers and the gun-deck oak.
Hours walk, I bonk the timber false heel,
incinerate tar to blusher upon main keel,
chocks of upper deck fay across the apron,
hammer the nails, arrest 'em 'n scout peg.
Sweat dribbles, hammer drops on dagger
drops trickle down the floor and swagger
my muscled arms rustle, bitter to befit
abridge the shafts scout and fix the bitts.
Brawn arms on sluggish job, head together
two strakes hooked, gunwales to foregather
as sinews work on manly effort and hoist
arise and heave to join, my forehead moist
A man must know, as hammer drops, to usher
with calm patience of no disuse of a rusher,
a man must know how desuetude to crosscut
in a ship-yard his thrust to cond and rebut
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Health and Wealth
When I had health, I strived to earn more wealth;
I toiled so hard that I soon lost my health!
When I got wealth, more vice crept in by stealth;
My wealth was gone, so also my good health!
So, keep your health and earn some wealth;
Don't earn more wealth and lose all health;
Just use your wealth to keep your health;
In life on earth, Health is your wealth!
poem by John Celes
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Earthquakes And Tsunami
Some scientists had located a missing geological piece therefore,
They found a puzzle of plate tectonics in the Southwest Pacific Ocean.
East and West Antarctica had spread twenty six million years before.
The rift between them opened one hundred miles due to this motion.
The scientists had clearly described how the Pacific tectonic plate,
The North American plate and others have moved at different points in time.
As one plate moves, the adjoining one is affected and there were adequate
Theories about plate moves, earthquakes, tsunami and changing the clime.
One plate affects the other one because the mantle was planetary pieced
In a plate tectonics jigsaw puzzle, named the 'global plate circuit' mystery.
Zones around the Antarctic Ross Sea and the West rift were imbalanced,
Pushing other plates and this fact has been a mystery for a quarter century.
Knowing about the plate motion around Antarctica is an important key
To understand the motions between the Pacific and North American plate,
To understand better than before the East and West Antarctica geology
And to determine the plate motions in California, until it is not too late.
The West Antarctic rift system is still active as a result of a movement
Along the boundary between East and West therefore, the lack of information
About the seafloor spreading and the plate motions is an advertisement
Because we don’t know what can modify this strong puzzle motion.
The inclusion of this East-West Antarctic motion in the global circuit explains
The gap between Pacific and Australian plates, Adare region, which really
Is the missing plate boundary in the Southwest Pacific, causing the main
Motion and, with the Alpine Fault, modifying the plate motion history.
It affects the motion between spots in the Pacific and Indo-Atlantic Oceans.
It explains the formation of the Transantarctic Mountains and the puzzling gap
Between the Australian and Pacific plates and it explains some notions
About the deformation of this area, the Pacific Ocean being like a spinal tap.
The earthquake near Christchurch in New Zealand confirmed that a country,
Already riddled with fault lines, has gained another one, which ran below
New Zealand, causing many earthquakes each year and lieing on the boundary
Between Pacific and Australian plates, under the Australian Eastern plateau.
Pacific plate subducts below New Zealand's North Island and the Australian
Plate subducts below the South Island, while between these two subduction
Zones lies the Alpine fault, along the mountainous spine of the South Island.
The quake was a result of a fault activity, in a new tectonic combination.
That fault appeared on September, shaking Darfield, someone tried to relate.
Someone else said that a tsunami in the Atlantic Ocean is a rare event
At the subduction zones in the Atlantic basin, along the the Caribbean Plate
And the eastern edge of the Scotia Plate and the disaster can be prevent.
Japan tsunami occurred where the shards of the tectonic plates had met.
Magma rose from inside, causing one plate to move and to slide straight
The other and, jerking forward again, to trigger a new horrible quake set.
They occurred because the Pacific plate moved under the Eurasian plate.
poem by Marieta Maglas
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Just Cry
It doesnt do any good to hold the tears in. Young daughter, I know society can be a sharp pain within. But daughter, you were made of diamonds worth more than any sin. So just cry..dont try to hold anything in.
poem by Madison Luvs
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Why I Keep my Breath?
I don’t keep my breath
to lose it in a petty fight,
incited by some selfish men,
with casteist or religious motives,
for gaining some votes or notes.
I don’t keep my breath
to surrender my honesty
before an officer corrupt
to loot the public wealth
or in cheating the innocent and the poor.
I want to breathe my last
along with our fiery soldiers,
facing alien guns
which spill the blood on the border
and make every hearth of Bharath
seething with limitless rage.
But for such matchless deeds,
cowards like me aren’t chosen.
I keep my breath hence
to train the young,
crush under their feet,
the elements posing danger
to our vast nation
and scrap the leaders
who amass wealth in stealth
and let the weak fall
into the jaws of gnawing poverty.
----------
poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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Musings on the North West
Domestic cattle quiet will graze where now the Buffalos roam,
and in spots now covered o'er with Indian Wigwams,
where white men never trod, cities will occupy their
sites with busy trade, and millions throng from Eastern
lands to take possession of the great North-West; then
Winnipeg, perchance, may be the capital of the Domin-
ion. In the days fortold, when this indeed shall be the
'Greater Britain,' with Ontario's towns for work shops
for this vast Prairie land.
' And poets will arise and high their lays will soar,
Worthy of the muse of a Burns or a Moore,'
A Shakespeare and a Milton, the great and the wise
Will sing of the glories of our Northern skies ;
Of its lakes and rivers, and its mountains grand,
Of its fertile plains and great prairie land.
A fit theme for song this empire gigantic
Whose arms stretch from Pacific to Atlantic.
poem by James McIntyre
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More Referendums Aug 23rd,2012
Quebec separatists are not foreigners; they're us,
They want a referendum to cause Ottawa a great fuss,
We ourselves should also have a referendum and maybe two,
Binding referendums and Death with Dignity are overdue.
Ottawa trying to buy Quebec with equalization money,
Hidden in some government program and not very funny,
We all should be delighted to partake in two referendums soon,
National referendums interfering in their Quebec cocoon.
Our problem is not Quebec separatists but we ourselves,
Without referendums; we're like stuff forgotten on old shelves,
Two referendums with the separatists; means common ground for all,
Do more for Canada than Ottawa aristocrats, not on call.
poem by James Bredin
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The King's Daughter
WE WERE ten maidens in the green corn,
Small red leaves in the mill-water:
Fairer maidens never were born,
Apples of gold for the king’s daughter.
We were ten maidens by a well-head,
Small white birds in the mill-water:
Sweeter maidens never were wed,
Rings of red for the king’s daughter.
The first to spin, the second to sing,
Seeds of wheat in the mill-water;
The third may was a goodly thing,
White bread and brown for the king’s daughter.
The fourth to sew and the fifth to play,
Fair green weed in the mill-water;
The sixth may was a goodly may,
White wine and red for the king’s daughter.
The seventh to woo, the eighth to wed,
Fair thin reeds in the mill-water;
The ninth had gold work on her head,
Honey in the comb for the king’s daughter.
The ninth had gold work round her hair,
Fallen flowers in the mill-water;
The tenth may was goodly and fair,
Golden gloves for the king’s daughter.
We were ten maidens in a field green,
Fallen fruit in the mill-water;
Fairer maidens never have been,
Golden sleeves for the king’s daughter.
By there comes the king’s young son,
A little wind in the mill-water;
“Out of ten maidens ye’ll grant me one,”
A crown of red for the king’s daughter.
“Out of ten mays ye’ll give me the best,”
A little rain in the mill-water;
A bed of yellow straw for all the rest,
A bed of gold for the king’s daughter.
He’s ta’en out the goodliest,
Rain that rains in the mill-water;
A comb of yellow shell for all the rest,
A comb of gold for the king’s daughter.
He’s made her bed to the goodliest,
Wind and hail in the mill-water;
A grass girdle for all the rest,
A girdle of arms for the king’s daughter.
He’s set his heart to the goodliest,
Snow that snows in the mill-water;
Nine little kisses for all the rest,
An hundredfold for the king’s daughter.
He’s ta’en his leave at the goodliest,
Broken boats in the mill-water;
Golden gifts for all the rest,
Sorrow of heart for the king’s daughter.
“Ye’ll make a grave for my fair body,”
Running rain in the mill-water;
“And ye’ll streek my brother at the side of me,”
The pains of hell for the king’s daughter.
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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