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Die Sunflowers

You golden sunflowers,

Tenderly inclined toward death,

You sisters full of humility

In such stillness

Helian's year

Of mountainous coolness ends.

Then his drunken forehead

Pales from kisses

Amid those golden

Flowers of gloom

The spirit is determined

By silent sinisterness.

poem by Georg Trakl
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Psalm

Stillness; as if blind people sank down by autumnal wall,

Listening with rotten temples to the flight of the ravens;

Golden stillness of autumn, the countenance of the father in the flickering sun

At evening the old village decays in the peace of brown oaks,

The red hammering of the smithy, a pounding heart.

Stillness; in slow hands the maid hides the hyacinthine forehead

Under fluttering sunflowers. Fear and silence

Of extinguishing eyes fulfills the dusking room, the halting steps

Of old women, the escape of the purple mouth which slowly expires in the darkness.

Taciturn evening in vine. From the low rafters

A nocturnal moth fell, nymph buried into bluish sleep.

In the courtyard the farm boy slaughters a lamb, the sweet smell of the blood

Clouds our foreheads, the dark coolness of the fountain.

The gloom of dying asters regrets, golden voices in the wind.

When it becomes night you look at me from moldered eyes,

In blue stillness your cheeks decayed to dust.

So quietly a weed's fire expires, the black hamlet in the ground falls silent

As if the cross climbed down the blue hill of Calvary,

The silent earth ejected its dead.

poem by Georg Trakl
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Our Hero

"Flowers, only flowers -- bring me dainty posies,
Blossoms for forgetfulness," that was all he said;
So we sacked our gardens, violets and roses,
Lilies white and bluebells laid we on his bed.
Soft his pale hands touched them, tenderly caressing;
Soft into his tired eyes came a little light;
Such a wistful love-look, gentle as a blessing;
There amid the flowers waited he the night.

"I would have you raise me; I can see the West then:
I would see the sun set once before I go."
So he lay a-gazing, seemed to be at rest then,
Quiet as a spirit in the golden glow.
So he lay a-watching rosy castles crumbling,
Moats of blinding amber, bastions of flame,
Rugged rifts of opal, crimson turrets tumbling;
So he lay a-dreaming till the shadows came.

"Open wide the window; there's a lark a-singing;
There's a glad lark singing in the evening sky.
How it's wild with rapture, radiantly winging:
Oh it's good to hear that when one has to die.
I am horror-haunted from the hell they found me;
I am battle-broken, all I want is rest.
Ah! It's good to die so, blossoms all around me,
And a kind lark singing in the golden West.

"Flowers, song and sunshine, just one thing is wanting,
Just the happy laughter of a little child."
So we brought our dearest, Doris all-enchanting;
Tenderly he kissed her; radiant he smiled.
"In the golden peace-time you will tell the story
How for you and yours, sweet, bitter deaths were ours. . . .
God bless little children!" So he passed to glory,
So we left him sleeping, still amid the flow'rs.

poem by Robert William Service
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Homecoming

When the evening breathes golden rest

Forest and dark meadow before which

Man is a looker,

A shepherd, dwelling in the flocks' dusking stillness,

The patience of the red beeches;

So clearly since it has become autumn. By the hill

The lonely one listens to the flight of birds,

To dark meaning and the shadows of the dead

Have gathered more seriously around him;

Cool mignonette scent fulfills him with shudders,

The huts of the villagers the elder,

Where in former times the child dwelled.

Memory, buried hope

Is preserved by these brown rafters,

Over which dahlias hang

So that the hands strive after them,

In the brown garden the shimmering step

Forbidden loving, dark year,

That from blue eyelids the tears

Of the stranger fell irresistibly.

From brown treetops dew drips,

When that one, a blue deer, awakes on the hill,

Listening to the loud calls of the fishermen

By the evening pond

To the amorphous cry of the bats;

But in golden stillness

The drunken heart dwells

Full of its noble death.

poem by Georg Trakl
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To Lucifer

Lend your flame to the spirit, glowing gloom;

Sighing the head rises into midnight,

At the greening spring hill; where before

A gentle lamb bled, endured the deepest

Pain; but the dark one follows the shadow

Of evil, or he lifts the moist wings

To the golden disk of the sun and a sound of bells

Convulses his pain-torn breast,

Wild hope; the sinisterness of flaming fall.

poem by Georg Trakl
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Golden Energy

Golden energy
For the guy or gal
Whose had a hard hard day
Golden energy
To help you meet the demands
Of an energetic mate
Or a red hot date
Golden energy dripping down on you
Golden energy
Natural aphrodisiac
Golden energy
Working hard to keep you on full
Pumping iron all the way
Keeps you from being too
Too tired
Rootin bootin sure fired
Golden energy meets all requirements
Posts no bills
Poots no guff
Needs no prescriptions
Golden energy handle if you care
If you dare
Help yourself to another share

song performed by by Devo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Man With The Golden Gun

The man
With the golden gun
Is waiting
Somewhere
Out there
For you
But you'll never see him
He'll be looking for you
Demand
For the golden gun
It's high priced
Precise
And true
But you'll never see him
He'll be looking for you
The man with the golden
Gun in his pocket, Oh, oh
The man with the golden
Gun in his case, Oh, oh
The man with the golden
Gun in your face
But you'll never see him
He'll be looking for you
You better believe
He'll be looking for you
He-e-e-e-e-e's, The man with the golden
Gun in his pocket
The man with the golden
Gun in his case
The man with the golden
Gun in his pocket
The man with the golden
Gun in your face
But you'll never see him
He'll be looking for you
You better believe
He'll be looking for yo-ou
He-e-e-e-e-e's, The man with the golden
Gun in his pocket
The man with the golden
Gun in his case
The man with the golden
Gun in his pocket
The man with the golden
Gun in your face
The man with the go-o-olden
Gun in his pocket
The man with the go-o-lden
Gun in his case
The man who gave you the golden gun

song performed by by Alice Cooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Day

Waking one morning
In a pleasant land,
By a river flowing
Over golden sand:--

Whence flow ye, waters,
O'er your golden sand?
We come flowing
From the Silent Land.

Whither go ye, waters,
O'er your golden sand?
We go flowing
To the Silent Land.

And what is this fair realm?
A grain of golden sand
In the great darkness
Of the Silent Land.

poem by James Thomson
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Moments of Silence

Did you know
That there is a Firmamant
Between us?
Amid silent box springs
And Golden mattress...

Overwhelmed by a deluge
Of Red Silken Sheets
Teasing comforters
And Pallid Quilts of fear
My sleep it never comes easy...

I am but a solitary sojourner
Looking for the Sandman
And longing for your Being
Mind, Body and Soul...

Just a touch tenderly
Oh, yes, tenderly
For i am a delicate Soul
Not quite whole...
Ethereal and filled with:
Tranquility-Empathy
Fire of desire
Not necessarily in
That order...

I am a face yet unseen
By your eyes
Disabled by time and by
Space
I am hidden under
Blue velvet comforter
I float into
Your magical dusted space
I am alone and unseen
I am stoic-still a mute
At last sweet dreams
Of you enter in R.E.M.
I can now see your face

poem by Theodora Onken
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Yustman

Letters to your grandmother,
Nice and slow without the hockey sticks!
But, you cannot brow up doing the same thing in life.

Jackets and pockets,
And of the beasutiful sunshine with the golden weather;
But, the sharp knives have no mellow.

The accumulation of wisdom,
And of a fisherman like my type;
For my name is Yustman from Oman and,
I have something for you.

This love is deeper than many kisses!
But, i do have thie letter for your grandmother;
Because you are all that i need,
And like the echoes of love to blossom the beautiful flowers.

You are now riding on a Golden Carriage and,
I am sleeping on a Golden Bed!
And our neighbour who sits on thge Golden Stool is dressed in Gold! !
But, your love is all that i need.

Life is like the talking-drums,
Love is like the muse of heaven;
And of the melody of joy to play along with,
But this letter is for your grandmother.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Knives Were Out

Do not stare at full moon.
The distance between love and hate
has narrowed.

Not for the shrunk radiation,
sun wants to hide behind the gift
of sunflowers.

The golden ring on the black finger,
I love the death’s cry,
fire will wear the jewel.

Collapsed roofs of the palace,
it is the cushioned agony
of the emptied king.

Everything was melting,
the child, the mother and the grain.
From where the water will come?

poem by Satish Verma
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Annunciation

Humility this day is
that she has passed all thought
in stillness; beyond waiting
rests her being.

Then like a lightning flash
without light, without sound;
micromoment of all presence that ever is,

in which she knows all that there is to know
beyond all thinking it; humility
and glory then the same.

Now no need for questioning:
she nor others; disbelievers; enemies;
herself, all that concerns her, now known fully;
she, now full of truth.

Later words may come;
as though there might be two in her humility;
she, now full of unity;

she lives the perfect prayer:
perfect come from perfect;
and when her time and time itself is ripe,
perfect shall be taken from that perfect;
and perfect will remain with her;

she, now full of god, of good;
who dares or dares not call her blest
save she herself; hands folded into lap,
head a little bowed, eyes down;
she now full of god, of good?

poem by Michael Shepherd
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Sonetto

BESIDE a fountain in a little grove
That fresh green fronds and pretty flowers did grace,
Three maidens sat and talked methinks of love.
Mid golden locks, o'ershadowing each sweet face,
For coolness was entwined a leaf-green spray,
And all the while a gentle zephyr played
Through green and golden in a tender way,
Weaving a web of sunshine and of shade.
After a while, unto the other two
One spoke, and I could hear her words: "Think you
That if our lovers were to happen by
We would all run away for very fright?"
The others answered her: "From such delight
She were a little fool who'd wish to fly!"

poem by Giovanni Boccaccio
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Rule Your Own World

The golden stool,
The golden love,
The golden horse,
The golden muse,
The golden egg;
But cleanliness is next to excellence! !
And like the joy of peace,
But, try to rule your world in peace without hurting your neighbour.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Address To The Sunset

Exquisite stillness! What serenities
Of earth and air! How bright atop the wall
The stonecrop’s fire and beyond the precipice
How huge, how hushed the primrose evenfall!
How softly, too, the white crane voyages
Yon honeyed height of warmth and silence,
whence
He can look down on islet, lake and shore
And crowding woods and voiceless promontories
Or, further gazing, view the magnificence
Of cloud- like mountains and of mountainous cloud
Or ghostly wrack below the horizon rim
Not even his eye has vantage to explore.
Now, spirit, find out wings and mount to him,
Wheel where he wheels, where he is soaring soar.
Hang where now he hangs in the planisphere -
Evening’s first star and golden as a bee
In the sun’s hair - for happiness is here!

poem by Robert Nichols
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The Nocturne: Address to the Sunset

Exquisite stillness! What serenities
Of earth and air! How bright atop the wall
The stonecrop’s fire and beyond the precipice
How huge, how hushed the primrose evenfall!
How softly, too, the white crane voyages
Yon honeyed height of warmth and silence,
whence
He can look down on islet, lake and shore
And crowding woods and voiceless promontories
Or, further gazing, view the magnificence
Of cloud- like mountains and of mountainous cloud
Or ghostly wrack below the horizon rim
Not even his eye has vantage to explore.
Now, spirit, find out wings and mount to him,
Wheel where he wheels, where he is soaring soar.
Hang where now he hangs in the planisphere -
Evening’s first star and golden as a bee
In the sun’s hair - for happiness is here!

poem by Robert Nichols
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To Angela

1

A lonely destiny in abandoned rooms

A soft insanity gropes on wallpapers.

Beds of geraniums flow by windows,

Daffodils also and more chaste in wasting away

As alabaster which gleams in the garden.

In blue veils India's mornings smile.

Their sweet incense scares away the stranger's worries,

Sleepless night by the pond because of Angela.

His pain rests hidden in an empty mask,

Thoughts which steal away blackly in the darkness.

The thrushes laugh all around from soft throats.

2

The fruits which round red in branches,-

Angela's lips which show her sweetness,

Like nymphs who bend over springs

In restful viewing for long hours,

The green-gold, long hours of the afternoon.

However, sometimes the spirit returns to fight and game.

In golden clouds a battle melee surges

And a hyacinth-like thing floats from mazy cresses.

A demon ponders thunderstorms in the sultriness,

In the grave's shadow of sad cypresses.

Then the first lightning falls from black flues.

3

The June willows' whisper in the evening;

A rain resounds long in flute sounds.

How motionless the birds hang in the gray!

And here Angela's rest in the dim branches;

The poet is this beauty's priest.

His mouth is flowed around by dark coolness.

In the valley fog softy rests poured out.

By the edge of the forest and gloom's shadow

A golden thing floats flowing from his mouth

By the edge of the forest and gloom's shadow.

Night embraces his drunken languishing.

poem by Georg Trakl
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Golden Opportunity

(ian hunter)
The kids are ok
Theyre telling you now
But youre letting them down
Cause you just dont know how
And its a golden opportunity
Im spinning in space
Im laughing away
Your so pathetic
I can just hear them say
Its like a golden opportunity
You better hear it
See hear it
Its a golden opportunity
You better hear it
Get near it
Its a golden opportunity
We reckon theyre rats
Now see how they run
My house is so common
And were dumb were so dumb
And its a golden opportunity
Scream all you suckers
Scream all you can
Im losing my bluff
Its a scam its a scam
And its a golden opportunity
You better hear it
You better hear it hear it
Its like a golden opportunity
You better hear it
You better hear it hear it
Its like a golden opportunity
Alright!
You better hear it hear it
Hear it hear it
Its a golden opportunity
Hear it
Hear it
Its a golden opportunity
You better hear it
You better hear it
Its a golden opportunity
You better hear it
You better hear it
Its a golden opportunity
(fade)

song performed by by Ian Hunter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Our Flag (Philippines)

Red, white an’ blue
Three golden stars an’ a sun
Symbol of sovereignty
Seal of authority
In war n’ peace
Overrides injustice
Prosper’ty booms
As if flower garden blooms

Red, white an’ blue
Three golden stars an’ a sun
Proud and brave
Overcome ocean waves
Against foreign aggression
And eminent invasion
Let all be gone
Exter-internal agon

Red, white an’ blue,
Three golden stars an’ a sun
Icon of mighty n’ power
As tall as d’ highest tower
Sturdy as stone pyramid
Withered d’ storm’s eyelid
Remains eminent mornin’ after
Victors of no banter

Red, white an’ blue,
Three golden stars an’ a sun
Geniuses for heroes,
Dies under bolos an’ arrows
Rebels thru pen an’ paper
Motherland in blooper
Executes nation’s sons
Sacred ground n’ crimson

Red, white an’ blue
Three golden stars an’ a sun
Fathers, mothers,
Sisters an’ brothers,
Looks up to azure sky
Pledges no more to shy
Vowed nev’r to be slaved
Soldiers nev’r to enslave

Red, white an’ blue
Three golden stars an’ a sun
Together we endure an’ cry
Ready to defend an’ die
To fight corruption an’ tyranny
Locates, defeats terrorism’s nanny
At day ends our nation’s free
From all crisis’ spree

poem by Noel Horlanda
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Our First Anniversary

It is our first anniversary
All love and wishes to you
Honey, darling
You are the sunshine
You are the sparkle of my life
You are the flowers and roses
You are the garden of joy
Strings of love still bind us
Since the day I met you
Hopes and dreams shadow me
Hugs, kisses and touch
Shrine our romance
One year had passed
It did not fade
The promise
For everlasting love
Ever to our golden years.

poem by Sherif Monem
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Hymn To Apollo

GOD of the golden bow,
And of the golden lyre,
And of the golden hair,
And of the golden fire,
Charioteer
Of the patient year,
Where---where slept thine ire,
When like a blank idiot I put on thy wreath,
Thy laurel, thy glory,
The light of thy story,
Or was I a worm---too low crawling for death?
O Delphic Apollo!

The Thunderer grasp'd and grasp'd,
The Thunderer frown'd and frown'd;
The eagle's feathery mane
For wrath became stiffen'd---the sound
Of breeding thunder
Went drowsily under,
Muttering to be unbound.
O why didst thou pity, and beg for a worm?
Why touch thy soft lute
Till the thunder was mute,
Why was I not crush'd---such a pitiful germ?
O Delphic Apollo!

The Pleiades were up,
Watching the silent air;
The seeds and roots in Earth
Were swelling for summer fare;
The Ocean, its neighbour,
Was at his old labour,
When, who---who did dare
To tie for a moment, thy plant round his brow,
And grin and look proudly,
And blaspheme so loudly,
And live for that honour, to stoop to thee now?
O Delphic Apollo!

poem by John Keats
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