A Poem During War (Cavatina) (In Answer To Archibald Macleish)
Not the loss of men, machines or a country
to destiny,
or the farewell of you to whom I long,
or to be free
from the ravages of a unwanted war,
always holds me
like the beauty of the last summer spent;
the deep feelings for you do not relent
as I long for a new dawn without pain
or any fear
while the future now looks very grim
and guns I hear
sending messages of their deadly flame,
nothing is clear
and although we do constantly just win,
the shattering of my soul did begin.
While bullets, rockets and shells do whistle past
your face, our love,
is out of my mind, as like a machine
I act above
the mere decency of being human,
while I do move
from one sheltering onto the next one,
all other thoughts but survival are gone
but still so intense you remain with me,
that I do dream
of your countenance, I see your face;
in clouds like steam
the wounded do for God, each other or
their mothers scream
with the smell of burnt flesh everywhere,
the pain of dying is constantly here.
[Reference: 'Two Poems from the War' by Archibald MacLeish.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Related quotes
Two Poems from the War
Oh, not the loss of the accomplished thing!
Not dumb farewells, nor long relinquishment
Of beauty had, and golden summer spent,
And savage glory of the fluttering
Torn banners of the rain, and frosty ring
Of moon-white winters, and the imminent
Long-lunging seas, and glowing students bent
To race on some smooth beach the gull's wing:
Not these, nor all we've been, nor all we've loved,
The pitiful familiar names, had moved
Our hearts to weep for them; but oh, the star
The future is! Eternity's too wan
To give again that undefeated, far,
All-possible irradiance of dawn.
Like moon-dark, like brown water you escape,
O laughing mouth, O sweet uplifted lips.
Within the peering brain old ghosts take shape;
You flame and wither as the white foam slips
Back from the broken wave: sometimes a start,
A gesture of the hands, a way you own
Of bending that smooth head above your heart,--
Then these are varied, then the dream is gone.
Oh, you are too much mine and flesh of me
To seal upon the brain, who in the blood
Are so intense a pulse, so swift a flood
Of beauty, such unceasing instancy.
Dear unimagined brow, unvisioned face,
All beauty has become your dwelling place.
poem by Archibald MacLeish
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Eternal (Cavatina Sequence) (In Answer To Archibald Macleish)
Again the wind will pass, as it did before
while it does sing
of some feelings that we both do have now,
in flocks flying
some birds will go and not a single thing
will be dying
as this moment have got something eternal,
while the bright sun rises epithermal
as if disaster, death, pain and sorrow
never was,
very long moments will still linger on,
blue-green like glass
the sea will always swell, rock to and thro;
the new green grass
will rise again in spring after the first rain;
while after life our feelings still do remain.
[Reference: 'An Eternity' by Archibald Macleish.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Constantly
All day Im walking in a dream
I think about you constantly
Just like an ever flowing stream
Your memory haunts me constantly
Shadows fall and I try to drive you from my mind
So youre no longer near to me
But my heart sees you there with me
Every sunset you share with me
The rain that patterns throu the tree reminds
Me of you constantly
Your name is whispered by the breeze and love birds
Bring your song to me
Just as same as each star keeps burning
In the sky your flame will stay a flame in me
A flame that burns so bright
Not only throu the night
But constantly
Thro we may be_apart
Youre constantly deep in my heart
song performed by by Cliff Richard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wishing For The Past
For Bobcat
After all these lonely years
Why do I still love you so much
Why do I still miss your smile
And still crave your touch
I hear your sweet voice
In my dreams each night
And I constantly wonder
How can I make this right
Still lost in the sweet dreams
I wake and reach for you
But your love is just a memory
A dream I wish would come true
Why do I still feel the loss
Down so deep in my soul
When will I understand it all
So my heart can be whole
You were not my first love
But I promise you will be my last
I will mourn your loss forever
Constantly wishing for the past
poem by Michelle Ogden
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How Long
When you look into a childs face
And youre seeing the human race
And the endless possibilities there
Where so much can come true
And you think of the beautiful things
A child can do
How long -- would the child survive
How long -- if it was up to you
When you think about the money spent
On defense by a government
And the weapons of destruction weve built
Were so sure that we need
And you think of the millions and millions
That money could feed
How long -- can you hear someone crying
How long -- can you hear someone dying
Before you ask yourself why?
And how long will we hear people speaking
About missiles for peace
And just let it go by
How long will they tell us these weapons
Are keeping us free
Thats a lie
If you saw it from a satellite
With its green and its blue and white
The beauty of the curve of the earth
And its oceans below
You might think it was paradise
If you didnt know
You might think that its turning
But its turning so slow
How long -- can you hear someone crying
How long -- can you hear someone dying
Before you ask yourself why?
And how long will it be till weve turned
To the tasks and the skills
That well have to have learned
If were going to find our place in the future
And have something to offer
Where this planets concerned
How long?
song performed by by Jackson Browne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The art of poetry (cavatina sequence) (in answer to Archibald Macleish)
A poem should touch, should palpable belong,
it should reach out,
with a kind of eternal caring truth;
it should scream, shout
of each injustice and pain that do remain
and be about
almost anything or each happening,
as something that is truly worth saying.
Not silent or dumb it falls on the ear,
as it's profound,
in a great symphony of the purest
kind of clear sound,
its rhythms do ring with every line
it is not bound
by politics, machinations of men
and can be a blessing or an omen.
[Reference: "Ars poetica" by Archibald Macleish.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Pain Is Just To Real
The pain is just to real.
There’s a tear somewhere deep within me.
Pulling at me, reaching up, seizing me.
The pain is just to real.
It bursts white hot scorching my insides.
Prying me open, ripping inside me.
The pain is just to real.
Needles hitting over and over again.
A cry of fear burst through my mouth.
The pain is just to real.
I hear the thud each time the pain comes.
It’s excruciating, I can’t take this much longer.
The pain is just to real.
I clutch my chest I can’t seem to breathe.
It’s killing me.
The pain is just to real.
Something’s shattering inside me.
It’s hitting every piece of flesh within me.
The pain is just to real.
White hot pain explodes in my chest.
Thud, Thud, pain pulses through my veins.
The pain is just to real.
My muscles begin to twitch.
Clutching my chest I think I see lights.
The pain is just to real.
My vision goes blurry.
I’m coming short of breath.
The pain is just to real.
With one gasping breathe I realize what’s happening.
My heart is shattering..
poem by Krystal Allison
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That Sadness In Your State
an autobiography appears life a blurred picture
you are lost in the tracks of the past
greatness is never spotted
because you have considered each as a mere folder
another item, just like any other number that slides from your fingers
then something bites you
the pain makes you jerk, and you begin to watch carefully the tip of
your thumb,
this hurts, who is this? who are you?
and you know the person well,
the one that hurt you makes you remember a name
the face sticks in your brain
somehow, you remember, he is the greater one which you did not mind
and now you claim
we were together in that same school of thought
and i believe you,
why do you have to be like that? when there is no scream there is no one.
when you do not hear the jump into the storm from the ship of prolonged
blot of dark blue color, or that scarlet of bloody discrimination
from the rest of the oppressing humanity
then
that is the only time that you begin to mind
that there is someone out there and he is calling for help
why do you think of help only when you are dying yourself?
why do you begin to think of caring when you are hurt yourself?
you only feel, when the pain starts to take its house in you.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I Love You (Villanelle)
(after Elizabeth Barrett Browning)
I love you with feelings that are true and right,
as our relationship has come with Godly grace,
I do love you through every day and night,
even when times of joy are far from sight
as you make this earth a heavenly place.
I love you with feelings that are true and right,
while I long to be to you the companion that I might
as the depth of our feelings are sometimes without a trace,
I do love you through every day and night,
while you draw me nearer to the Godly light
and onward daily our lives do constantly race.
I love you with feelings that are true and right,
with gentleness, without any fear and fright
although my childish ways might be commonplace
I do love you through every day and night.
Even if for you I have got struggle and fight
have got to face the most dangerous menace;
I love you with feelings that are true and right,
I do love you through every day and night.
[Reference: 'XLIII' 'How do I love thee? Let me count the ways']
poem by Gert Strydom
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Demons of the Night
The sleepless nights,
The constant fights,
Sleep eludes me,
But people don't see,
The thoughts constantly running through my head,
That refuse to relent as I'm lay in bed,
I close my eyes and try to sleep,
All the things I've buried deep,
Get free from their cage,
And run around in a rage,
People say I sleep a lot,
But don't see the demons that I've got,
All this never leaving me be,
All the pain that's made me, me,
Is rising its ugly head,
I put them back one by one,
Until at least for that night its done,
Everything's buried back down deep,
And i fall into a long and fitful sleep.
poem by Lizzie O'Neill
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Last night I had a dream
Last night i had a dream
a dream about a future
a future that i had buried
deep within
A dream that made me wonder
how deep is that burial place
within me
Last night i had a dream
a dream about a past
a past that my memory
refuses to name.
Dug up by another name from
that very past
Last night i had a dream
a dream about the present
a present that i choose to
live in oblivion off.
a present with hurt, betrayal
pain and sadness
A present that however hard
i run away from shackles
me to my past and my future
chains, which i am unable to
break free from
which tie me down and make me who and what i am
Last night i had a dream
do i wish to wake up and
face reality.
are not the dream and the reality
one and the same.
Last night i had a dream
a dream or was i awake
finally.
poem by Jasveen Ahluwalia
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Train Long Gone
(Gone!) Well, I hate how that word
Rattles all around in this room
(Alone,) with a memory so strong
I could sweep it up with a broom.
(Tears,) if I shed anymore I'm afraid
They might wear out my face
(Clear,) Yes, It's clear to me now
That her love can never be replaced.
Love may be gone but never forgotten
The memory won't leave you alone
And the train may be long gone from the station
But you still hear the whistle moan.
Still hear the whistle moan.
--- Instrumental ---
(Time,) time got so slow and thick
That the clock hardly ticks anymore
(Crime,) it's a crime how I sit here
And stare like a dog at the door.
(Blame,) Aw yes, I'll take the blame
I admit I did not treat her right
(Shame,) It's a shame laying here
All alone on this cold, windy night.
Love may be gone but never forgotten
The memory won't leave you alone
And the train may be long gone from the station
But you still hear the whistle moan.
Still hear the whistle moan.
Ohh, Ohh, Ohh, Ohh, Ohh, Ohh
Train gone, long gone train.
Ohh, Ohh, Ohh
Train gone, long gone train.
Ohh, Ohh, Ohh, Ohh, Ohh
Train gone, long gone train.
Ohh, Ohh, Ohh, Ohh, Ohh
Ohh, Ohh, Ohh, Ohh.
Love may be gone but never forgotten
The memory won't leave you alone
And the train may be long gone from the station
But you can still hear the whistle moan.
Still hear the whistle moan.
Ohh, Ohh, Ohh, Ohh, Ohh, Ohh
Train gone, long gone train.
Ohh, Ohh, Ohh, Ohh
Train, long gone train.
Ohh, Ohh, Ohh, Ohh
Train, long gone train.
Ohh, Ohh, Ohh
Train gone, long gone train.
Ohh, Ohh, Ohh, Ohh
Train, long gone train.
Ohh, Ohh, Ohh, Ohh
Long gone train.
Ohh, Ohh, Ohh
Train, long gone train.
Ohh, Ohh, Ohh, Ohh
Train, long gone train...
song performed by by Randy Travis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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She Does Not Need Any Praise (Cavatina Sequence)
(after Archibald MacLeish)
The greatest happiness she have given
today to me,
in the ways that together our lives is,
tranquillity
is in each smile, like a hot summer day,
totally free
she does her duty in words and her ways,
she acts unhindered like the sun's rays.
Fresh loaves of bread, lovely food she spreads,
great joy she finds
in her selfless acts that brings happiness,
free like the winds
her feet run while she lights candles, sometimes sings;
one of her kind
my wife is, she does not need any praise
as she loves with an amazing true grace.
[Reference: 'Poem in Prose' by Archibald MacLeish.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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I have to be Cruel to be Kind
Hatred would last for a day, as it is
sweeten by the wound in a landscape of
swollen pain and ready to die, for nothing
comes first when each foot comes
to rest, move on dying believes to live
look up those broken pieces, as they
capture the tendering smile of tears learned
to echoed in the waiting dream of forgiveness,
where a blooming flower wait to die in the
torrent of the sky
one should not be kind to hook an
elephant, for like flowers need not to bloom
just to be seen by the sun; the rain has long
been waiting to let the butterfly to fly, for
nothing that is not a part will lead us depart
thanks to be human place in a ranch,
peddling to be one to see the wonderful sun:
hay those deep clouds leave us not to be cruel,
just to be kind, for the flesh is nothing when
everything will be gone
endure my pain, those are just a dream
to die …..
poem by Antonio Liao
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We Are Separate And Yet I Love You
We are separate and yet I love you,
in my mind I see your face
at the breaking of day
as if you are constantly with me.
I love you in the flowering of spring,
even in the stripped deadness of winter
you still have my heart rushing
and maybe I am longing for you in vain,
maybe the thoughts of you bring only pain,
but still I love you at twilight
even when the darkness sets in
the stars look through your eyes.
Even in time’s clockwork stream
you come to every dream
and my love for you
is never through.
poem by Gert Strydom
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How I love thee
When mere feelings are gone, are not with me
my love still stays with thee
and in every sweet tenderness
and tranquil kiss
I long for thee in my everydayness,
even in the night’s romantic hour I long for thy bliss
and what’s between us comes clear and free
without any inequity,
as just the experience, the lives of you and me
in all of love’s purity
is even there when I bow to pray
asking His blessings on you each day
and I love thee with all that is in me
past life, past death into eternity, as it’s supposed to be.
[Reference: XLIII. “How much I love thee? by Elizabeth Barrett Browning.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Where Did We Go Wrong
(j.p. maunick/r. bull)
It wasnt my intention to cause you this pain
But here we are, a bridge too far
Ive left you here to wonder if it all was a game
How can it be, these changes in me
Nothing lasts forever, thats true
Take a look at the world that we once knew
Gone are the feelings that once we could hold on to
Chorus:
Try to forgive me, find a way to believe me
Im hurting the same way too
Oh I know its not easy, but baby believe me
Weve been fighting this war far too long
Where did we go wrong
I tried to write a letter, but its better this way
Here in this place, face to face
Lets not forsake the future in view of the past
So little gained and far too much pain
Trying to compromise our points of view
We leave each other feeling blue
Gone are the feelings that once would have seen us through
Chorus
The simple truth is clear to see
Time to surrender, let it be
Theres nothing here for us to hold on to
Chorus
song performed by by Incognito
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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South Africa, my country
Could I play like you, like a lion cub,
spending my days inviolate with the world,
when you were innocent, intact
had tried to touch butterflies with deadly paws,
you would have stayed forever in my heart
and I would have found acquiescence in you constantly.
Still your paws had become big, deadly
your jaws had become snapping, had mightily showered blood
when your growth went to maturity,
you did even amaze the biggest, most deadly cats
and from your compulsory service I wasn’t free,
fought for survival in your hunt
but now you are wounded far too badly, too serious,
I cannot stop the destruction anymore,
where you now want to kill your own cubs
and my brothers flee far away from you
while you do not want to know them anymore,
are infatuated by bloodlust, are infatuated to win the fight.
Still I love you far too much
to now want to see your nemesis,
I still try to heal your most serious wounds,
I still try to share my mangled life with you
and I can now smell your breath deadly,
while you use my life selfishly.
poem by Gert Strydom
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No more fear
No more fear of survival refuse to live in fear of myself any longer.
No more fear of never being respected or acknowledged by you for who I am.
I will not sarcoma to my fears any longer for I am stronger then I ever dreamed and I will no longer allow my fears to hold me in limbo.
No more screaming in silence or crying with no tears for the end of my silence is here.
No more putting myself through torture for I am ready to heal, my new growth is all around me and I am unsure of what I fear.
No more fear of not being loved for the people who loves themselves has any fear.
No more fear of the unknown for my eyes are wide open and the sky is very clear.
I will only place God Before me for I only exist with him and only he can set me free.
I had fear of being alone, then fear of what could be but I long to face the fears and it does not control me.
No more empty feelings for I know just where to go I will get on my knees, and ask God to bless my soul and take the fear away from me.
No more will I not be heard, if I need to yell or scream it I will say it the way I want but until I am treated right have a voice and I will not have fear of being heard.
No more will I not stand up for me or fear of what was meant to be, no more if being mislead, lost or even feel like I should be dead.
No more of this silly game will I play I love me and maybe you should do the same, I am that woman who has held a family together, who has made you only exit in my world and now no more.
poem by Kimbaline Navas
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My Fear Takes Over My Depression
This depression causes me fear
causes the fear in life to come out
the fear or confusion and the fear of loss
I try hard not to think of fear and this depression
but somehow the depression lets the fear back into
my body and lets the fear take over the sadness
I would rather feel sadness, pain and anger than fear
the fear that I feel makes me feel weak and worthless
I try to love but the fear steps into place once again
I am afraid to love cause I fear hurt
it's gray all the time in my head
while I try to make it look like it is all sunshine and rainbows
on my face with the smile i put on for everyone
while on the inside I wanna cry!
cause the depression lets my past come back
the flashbacks of the unwanted
unwanted that I just want to go away
I try to work through the problems but I still cant get it all out
I wonder if I talk about every incident step by step detail by detail
and bassically relive it, if that will take it away!
but here is that fear again from the depression
the fear of talking and reliving the past! !
my depression causes me fear!
.
poem by Juliana Willsey
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