Rime 208
Love made me such that I live in fire
like a new salamander on earth
or like that other rare creature, the Phoenix,
who expires and rises at the same time
poem by Gaspara Stampa
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Phoenix Reborn
From the Great Fire’s ash, a new Phoenix shall rise
It’s glory is born from another’s demise
It’s mighty wings spread, as the Fire Bird sings
It’s voice heals the world, as it spreads it’s great wings
It rises above, a new King of the Skies
To the ends of the Earth the great Phoenix flies
Reborn from ashes, the Great Flame of the Sky
But in a burst of flame, this Phoenix shall die
Reduced to but ash, 'til the fire is stoked anew
This is the fate of the Phoenix, King of Skies Blue
From the ashes of death, shall a great flame be born
From the Great Fire’s ash, mighty Phoenix reborn
poem by Tim Vallie
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Sonnet XVI: Mongst All the Creatures
An Allusion to the Phoenix
'Mongst all the creatures in this spacious round
Of the birds' kind, the Phoenix is alone,
Which best by you of living things is known;
None like to that, none like to you is found.
Your beauty is the hot and splend'rous sun,
The precious spices be your chaste desire,
Which being kindled by that heav'nly fire,
Your life so like the Phoenix's begun;
Yourself thus burned in that sacred flame,
With so rare sweetness all the heav'ns perfuming,
Again increasing as you are consuming,
Only by dying born the very same;
And, wing'd by fame, you to the stars ascend,
So you of time shall live beyond the end.
poem by Michael Drayton
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Salamander
It was a cold spring morning.
During a walk at Oxbow Park
I ran across a reddish-brown
salamander in the middle of
the paved road. Reaching down
I touched its tail and it twitched
slightly. It was clear that the
salamander was just chilled
and was moving slow as
cold amphibians do.
I picked up the creature and
carried it to the side of the
road, where I gently placed it
on the ground beneath a Salal shrub.
Walking on I reflected on
what it might be like to be that
salamander sitting in the road.
Being approached by a giant being
that could pick me up and with little
effort, move me to safety.
I must have seemed like
a god to that small salamander.
I further reflected about just how we
humans must look to greater beings
than us. Would we not see them as gods?
In that moment I felt gigantic and minuscule,
all at the same time…
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
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The Dragon and The Phoenix (version one)
The Dragon and The Phoenix (version one) :
The sleeping Tiger lies in a mist, covered in mystery.
Who is he, what is his purpose?
The sleeping Flame lies in a cloud, shrouded by time.
Who is she, what is her purpose?
As the could falls in the night, and mingles in the mist... the Flame touches the Tiger and both awaken. The Flame brightens and swirls around the Tiger, the Tiger roars as the flames engulf him and he transforms into the wise Dragon. The Flame crackles as the Dragon's roar sounds through the night. The crackle becomes a cry of joy as the Dragon breathes a breath of fire upon the Flame, adding his burning love to hers. The Flame turns into a fiery bird with a great
cry. A Phoenix has been born, and a Dragon has grown in the fires of love. This bond forged is stronger than steel, stronger than the very foundations of the earth.
Nothing and no one can break this love. The love of the Dragon and the Phoenix will live beyond the end of time, their hearts forever entwined. Purpose has been found, the balance formed by the Dragon and Phoenix that awakened them is their purpose. The love they share forever is a shining light for all who despair; the Dragon and Phoenix are smiled upon by the Creator for they are what he intended love between two to be.
poem by Tolly Rebeka Christian BlackWolf Hawk
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Within The Mist Is Fire
Inspired by your inspiration
An inspiration I inspire
Through the ashes,
RISES...
A red phoenix, on fire
A mothers nature, Is to nurture
A poets words, will paint a picture
The path of my people
Diverged while unfostered
Left to the winds to recapture
The ways of my people
I preserve with great care
Like the phoenix
I rise from the ashes
The flame in my heart
The four winds in my hair
Like the phoenix
We will rise from the ashes
poem by Marcus McKinley
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Mother India
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
You are the paradise on earth
Where things are not in any dearth.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
In Your Lap live men and women
Of every caste and religion.
You rain your love and affection
On them all without distinction.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
You have got a peculiar trait
Due to which you are very great.
You adopt the foreigners too,
Who like to live and die for you.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
You are beautiful, all perfect;
You are rich in every aspect.
In the ancient times, we have heard,
Aliens called you ‘a golden bird’
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
The mountains guard your honour here;
The ocean washes your feet there.
The rivers contain sweet water
Which for us is just like nectar.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
Our culture is ancient and high,
We are respected that is why.
Culture has bound us by and by,
With a chain of pure love and tie.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
We are sorry here live some men
Who are not loyal, but still then,
Pose as lovers of this nation,
Whom we do not like to mention.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
We are sorry here live some men;
Fire of hatred they ever fan.
Freedom, we fear, may not be lost,
Which we have got at a great cost.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
Let us be wise not to be tool
Of selfish powers which befool
Those who do not well understand
Their aim which is behind their stand.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
We will be lucky, if we die
For you, O Gracious Country High!
We’ll give them a fitting reply,
Who see you with a slanting eye.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
poem by Aziz Ahmad
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The Dragon and the Phoenix (version two) :
The Dragon and the Phoenix (version two) :
The Tiger lies in a mist, shrouded in mystery.
Who is she, what is her purpose?
The Dragon lies upon a cloud, covered by time.
Who is he, what is his purpose?
The cloud and Dragon descend into the mist as the moon rises, meshing together.
The Tiger prowls through cloud and mist; the Dragon growls, wary of this new creature in his midst.
Startled by the new noise in her domain the Tiger hisses and tenses.Silver eyes meet those of green, stillness ensues.
'Why does it not attack, this beast of the forest? ' he thinks.
'Will this being from the skies run or strike? ' she thinks.
The Dragon becomes stone still, waiting, for what he knows not.
'Does this armored creature of flight even live? ' she wonders.
The Tiger slowly lays a paw against the Dragon's scaly hide, sparks of blue fly from the point of contact, the Tiger jumps back with a howl of surprise. 'What is this magic? ! ' she cries.
The Dragon's face becomes filled with the expression of joy 'Yin! ' cries he. The Tiger freezes in shock 'Yang? At last, we can be one once again! '
The Dragon drew a great breath and breathed the fires of his love unto the Tiger, from her ashes arose a mighty Phoenix.. A great cry of joy sounded through the night, a cry of joy: 'Forever one are we! Together in the skies for all eternity shall we be! '
poem by Tolly Rebeka Christian BlackWolf Hawk
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Mother India
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
You are the paradise on earth
Where things are not in any dearth.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
In Your Lap live men and women
Of every caste and religion.
You rain your love and affection
On them all without distinction.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
You have got a peculiar trait
Due to which you are very great.
You adopt the foreigners too,
Who like to live and die for you.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
You are beautiful, all perfect;
You are rich in every aspect.
In the ancient times, we have heard,
Aliens called you ‘a golden bird’
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
The mountains guard your honour here;
The ocean washes your feet there.
The rivers contain sweet water
Which for us is just like nectar.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
Our culture is ancient and high,
We are respected that is why.
Culture has bound us by and by,
With a chain of pure love and tie.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
We are sorry here live some men
Who are not loyal, but still then,
Pose as lovers of this nation,
Whom we do not like to mention.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
We are sorry here live some men;
Fire of hatred they ever fan.
Freedom, we fear, may not be lost,
Which we have got at a great cost.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
Let us be wise not to be tool
Of selfish powers which befool
Those who do not well understand
Their aim which is behind their stand.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
We will be lucky, if we die
For you, O Gracious Country High!
We’ll give them a fitting reply,
Who see you with a slanting eye.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
poem by Aziz Ahmad 'Aziz Moradabadi'
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Rare Friend
I will be your rare friend;
Spend many hours meditating on your success.
I will be your rare friend;
Be there for you when you are not at your best.
I will be your rare friend;
One who will take you home when your legs tire.
I will be your rare friend;
And will be beside you when go through the fire.
I will be your rare friend;
When others abandon you and laugh at you.
I will be your rare friend;
Not caring the color of your skin or what you do.
I will be your rare friend;
I will be your rare friend because its true, I am you.
poem by Saint Eule
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You Made Me Feel So Beautiful
Your kiss, your embrace, the way you touched me
I still shiver with delight
You made me feel so beautiful
The way your eyes held me
A rare feeling, when reality was more beautiful than dreams
You made me feel so beautiful
Your soft caress
Like you're touching the wings of a butterfly
You made me feel so beautiful
You gave yourself to me
And ignited my fire
You made me feel so beautiful
We laughed and kissed, discovering we liked the same things
Its rare to find a kindred spirit, in life’s rushed living
You made me feel so beautiful
I wish we could just lock ourselves away
On a seashore, with no such thing as time
And explore the world between us
You made me feel so beautiful
poem by Anita Atina
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You Make Me Feel Beautiful
Your kiss, your embrace, the way you touched me
I still shiver with delight
You made me feel so beautiful
The way your eyes held me
A rare feeling, when reality was more beautiful than dreams
You made me feel so beautiful
Your soft caress
Like you're touching the wings of a butterfly
You made me feel so beautiful
You gave yourself to me
And ignited my fire
You made me feel so beautiful
We laughed and kissed, discovering we liked the same things
Its rare to find a kindred spirit, in life’s rushed living
You made me feel so beautiful
I wish we could just lock ourselves away
On a seashore, with no such thing as time
And explore the world between us
You made me feel so beautiful
poem by Brie Carter
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Sonnet XIII:The light that rises from your feet to your hair
The light that rises from your feet to your hair,
the strength enfolding your delicate form,
are not mother of pearl, not chilly silver:
you are made of bread, a bread the fire adores.
The grain grew high in its harvest of you,
in good time the flour swelled;
as the dough rose, doubling your breasts,
my love was the coal waiting ready in the earth.
Oh, bread your forehead, your legs, your mouth,
bread I devour, born with the morning light,
my love, beacon-flag of the bakeries:
fire taugh you a lesson of the blood;
you learned your holiness from flour,
from bread your language and aroma.
poem by Pablo Neruda
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Singing To Insects
Singing to insects – dancing circles upon damp earth.
Bare feet – New dawn – Blessed birth.
I remember well the man I was, the boy I used to be.
I remember well all that was as mine a gift to see.
To smell, to sense as to feel. I remember now a time
When love and life felt real. Now my chest grows tighter
A solar phoenix flaring, a solar phoenix sharing.
So many years I have searched, perched upon the crossroads
Now I find my home, at one with flesh and bone.
I rest at one with the whole my own. I love my heart my home.
I am at one with the sadness that darkness our age
I am at one with the page in turning
By the river sleeping – By the river slept
By the river weeping – By the river wept
I am at one with the fire there burning
Open your eyes – reveal the skies enshrouded.
poem by David Lacey
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And What Is Man
And what is man but animal a descendant of ape
A creature of this Planet earth with monkey build and shape
And what is man but mortal with brief so brief life span?
Like flowers of Spring he live short while the earth born creature man.
And then so why should man the animal with superior powers of mind
Look down on his fellow man on his own fellow kind
And why should man the mortal chose to discriminate
And surrender to jealousy a fore-runner to hate? .
And why should man the animal with ape like hands and feet
Allow himself fall victim of greed and self conceit?
As man is air breathing creature and air breathing creature's life is brief
He quickly grow and then he fade like frostbit autumn leaf.
poem by Francis Duggan
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I remember my youth and the feeling that will never come back any more — the feeling that I could last for ever, outlast the sea, the earth, and all men; the deceitful feeling that lures us on to joys, to perils, to love, to vain effort — to death; the triumphant conviction of strength, the heat of life in the handful of dust, the glow in the heart that with every year grows dim, grows cold, grows small, and expires — and expires, too soon — too soon before life itself.
quote by Joseph Conrad
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Divine Mother Pele
In endless night eternal shadow volcanic fire
Upon the moon
And day burns red in an eclipse of the Earth
Through the death of the moon
Ancient worlds in extrophy
Through a vision of fire
Oh Kiluae, art thou the House of the Moon as
Haleakala is the House of the Sun
Endless shadow of ancient worlds
Through a vision of fire
The House of the Moon in the House of the Sun
Oh Divine Mother Pele, will the Earth return to
Ash in an alchemical purification like the phoenix
In volcanic fire
The moon and the Sun
And endless universes on fire
Oh, Divine Mother Pele, art thou a Daughter of Maya
And of the Endless Cycles of Universal flux
Thou art not the end of time for the Earth, but its Rebirth
poem by Dr. Antoinette Voget
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The Love of God
The God who made the universe
And every creature well,
Has plans for every earthling made,
And loves each dearly much!
He knows our hearts and every want
And all our life-time needs;
He will provide for creatures all,
And forever stays wake!
The Nature He had made by word,
For sake of creatures all,
has in-built checks and balances,
For man to follow science.
He knows man’s curiosity
endangers planet earth;
Nevertheless, God works by plan
for sake of love for man!
If love had made God to make man,
and continues boundless,
then, why shouldn’t man repay God’s love
to the extent, he can?
Copyright by Dr John Celes 03-11-11
poem by John Celes
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Butterfly
Fly, O butterfly fly in the clear and sunny day
Fly about in freedom in your haphazard way.
Fly onto colourful flowers and plants giving sustenance away
Fly as only you know how and live to see and fly another day.
Such a creature that you are and so very delicately made
A marvel of creation clothed in colours which do persuade.
What a contrast there is while you're motionless to that when you're in flight
A splendid example of nature to which all the credit is due allowing this sight.
Although you have your own season and have much with which to display
You're only here for a short time and like to make the most of it each day.
With angelic-like wings of splendour it seems you fly around effortlessly
From one area to another wherever your discretionary whim takes thee.
You are a creature of metamorphosis or the product and result of transforming change
Could this be the reason why that beauteous form of yours covers such a broad range?
For in the life-span which has been allotted to you a rare beauty you've now become
An exemplar of harmonious existence with nature that is evidently a hobby for some.
In the whole wide world there's hardly a creature that bears any resemblance to you
And it's only in your rather less noble relation the moth there's some semblance true.
You're verily also a creature that appears to revel in broad daylight
Though your cousin is mainly one who usually abounds in the night.
And you have wings that are mostly poised upright behind you when in rest
While those of your kindred are but lowly hung and only widespread at best.
It also occurs to me you're more refined and sensitive by birthright than your relation
As you're the one who avoids flying headlong into objects and get the most adulation.
Fly O butterfly fly and may you find your happy mate
Fly to where love takes you and wandering does sate.
Fly all around to every place in your naturally free and delightful state
Fly as only you know how and live to share with all that eventful fate.
poem by George Krokos
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There Is No Us
frankly, there is no us.
there is only me and there is only you.
that is the truth,
the bitter truth, but there was a time
oh, it was rare
when i tried to imagine,
oh, imagination goes everywhere i think,
there is no limit to imagination they say
but thinking has
it has walls and fences, thinking limits
where tolerance lies,
there was a time when i imagine us
hand in hand, arms around arms,
forgive my imagination, but there was a time
when i imagine that we made love beside the river
that we were so exhausted after and that we made a promise
to live forever, us, us, together,
but as i told you, in that dream, imagination has no limits
it is crazy, but thinking is sane, it puts a limit to my illusions
and my own delusions about love and togetherness,
about us, but thinking says, and it says with straightforwardness
of a man decisive about an ending
and so i ended it, because i agree, and i definitely agree,
our situation is sky and earth, floor and ceiling,
we do not meet, even halfway on some compromises
there is no us, really, just you and me,
at the end, i love myself much better than i love you,
and so here i am,
gone for good, away from you.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Fire on Your Finger
Fire on your finger,
Fire in your eye,
Fire in your spirit,
Fire that won’t die.
Fire in the bare bones of being,
Fire to uphold what’s right,
Fire in the heart of darkness,
Fire to fuel Love’s light.
Fire to burn but not consume,
Fire to learn and not assume,
Fire to live and give living room,
Fire to love and sing her tune.
poem by Tony Jolley
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