As man left the shore (Reply to Anthony Delius)
As man left the shore
venturing over the first horizon
the open blue sea
laid unknown, without route,
even a map in front of him
and it was not in his mind
that he sailed beyond where he
at first could see
and ventured further away
from the know quay
and through the fog in the west
came upon other beaches, other shores
explored new lands, found other places
set his foot on other sand
constructed buildings, shelters,
planted seed for crops
and gathered in families
and the last man still knows
what experience, knowledge
and tales of his ancestors he have learned
and prays and yearns to do service
to his God who created every thing
and in perfection
do not have to recreate or invent again
in a universe that exists without end.
[Reference: Reply to Pessoa by Anthony Delius.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Jackie
(Sinead O'connor cover )
Jackie left on a cold, dark night
Telling me he'd be home
Sailed the seas for a hundred years
And left me all alone
Now I've been dead for twenty years
I've been washing the sand with my ghostly tears
Searching the shores for my Jackie-oh
And I remember the day that the young man came
Said, your Jackie's gone, he is lost in the rain
And I ran to the beach
And laid me down
You're all wrong, I said
And they stared to the sand
That man knows the sea like the back of his hand
He'll be back some time
Laughing at you
And I've been waiting all this time
For my man to come, take his hand in mine
And lead me away
To unsailed shores
I've been washing the sand with my salty tears
Searching the shore these long years
And I'll walk the sea forever more
'til I find my Jackie-oh
Jackie-oh
Jackie-oh
Jackie-oh
song performed by by Placebo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On a close-up of Anthony Delius, on his Questions to the Universe
So tell me Anthony you start
your wailing against the gods / God
with the sketch of a man gone mad
who does not know his own integrity
nor if he is in reality either good or bad
and maybe a little bit of both
does not know where he stands in life
if he’s cruel to his kids or letting them run amok
if sex with his wife wedded or not
satisfies her or is she only acting it out
and is he a wimp or what, who wears a pink shirt
and hides behind her skirt?
Could he find any help from a doctor,
minister or priest to mend
or is he in the end only a waste to the human race?
Completely mixed up the anti-hero wants to lurk
in the basement as if looking for a replacement
or to find something in his heart or turn to art
and yet he sees a roving universal eye
looking down from the blue sky
somewhat like that of a colonel or a cat
(most probably a rat (if he’s in the basement)
and I wonder to what army did this nut belong?)
and what answer does he anyway get but none
and he decides that it’s up to himself and no one else.
[References: Questions to the Universe by Anthony Delius. My poem was written in reaction to Anthony Delius’s poem: On a Close-up of Dirk Opperman, on the Jacket of his Komas.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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The whole difference between construction and creation is exactly this: that a thing constructed can only be loved after it is constructed; but a thing created is loved before it exists.
quote by Charles Dickens
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Brass lantern lights
So egregious of a western datum to command
of this travel and conquer new, unknown lands,
what an effusive cause of my tidal obsequies,
my galley had taken an imperious route west.
Nomad women named of this, a ghostly route,
nobody had survived to report, or preached,
on new lands that no one before placed his foot,
my monkey shrieks at this analogy bewitched.
I spoke to the steersman to be aware of stars,
that shine south, beyond the parallel of N.27,
because their luminance is evident of storms,
and of the morning rainbow that brings tempest.
Brass lantern lights illuminate to a nowhere,
around the steadfast an immense void to dismiss,
lonely serenity embraces a dim fear, as we stare,
because dark monsters will emerge of the Abyss.
We have a Crucifix to talk to, He maybe listens;
my ancestors were sailors, got lost in deepest sea,
As we bear away, my bitter mouth is curving down,
all we edge to pay a coin, for a darkened grave fee.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Wooden Ships
Their sails fluttered in the prevailing winds
as the wooden ships sailed into the horizons
looking for new lands to conquer.
Across oceans with waters unknown
in days when some thought
the world was flat
and if you sailed so far out
you just simply fell off.
The sailors were superstitious
seeing monsters in most living things.
A giant squid became a Kraken
and a myth of ocean lore.
However, these sailors were brave men
and against dangers unknown sailed
to chart new lands
many thought did not exist.
Some went for riches;
others went on a voyage of discovery.
Some came back to tell tall tales.
While other went down in their wooden ships
as in perilous waters sailed,
and slowly the world was discovered
by these sailors in wooden ships.
11 July 2008
poem by David Harris
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To Reach a Far Off Shore
I sailed upon the sea of life
In the year Nineteen Hundred and Thirty Four
Bound for places far from home,
And steered a course yet unknown
To reach a far off shore.
My ship was cast on the sea of life
To seek the dreams that all look for.
I sailed a sea of rocking waves and crushing tides,
A sea of calm so vast and wide
To reach that far off shore.
The sea of life has brought me joy,
And sorrows have I felt with pain
Sailed in shadows of the sky,
And the sea of life and I
Have weathered wind and rain.
With crimson skies to the west
I feel the the spray and ocean spill
Guilded by the evening star
Toward a place where all dreams are,
It leads me on my journey still.
By
Richard Netherland Cook
poem by Richard Netherland Cook
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The truthfulness of materials of constructions, concrete, bricks and stone, shall be maintained in all buildings constructed or to be constructed. The seed of Chandigarh is well sown. It is for the citizens to see that the tree flourishes.
quote by Le Corbusier
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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GOD The Farmer
(4/14/12)
We live to love - we love to live
There is so much we have to give.
For every seed that GOD has planted
Another life has been granted.
Every seed on this earth
Will create a brand new birth.
He is the farmer - the giver of life
The crops he plants will suffice.
He planted the stars that shine at night
Gave us the sun - hot and bright.
He gave us water to quench our thirst
And gave us this water to cleanse the earth.
He planted seeds of knowledge in our brains
So if we had to - we could make the change.
He planted the seeds in the female wombs
So that life would not end to soon.
These are some of the things this farmer has given
He has made this life worth living.
poem by Louis Rams
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In The Darkness I Got Up
(after Breyten Breytenbach)
In the darkness I got up
saw you in the rays of the moon
while the gulls was screeching endlessly outside
with some flying to the endless ocean
and the yesterdays disappeared with every morning,
night fled away before each day's sunshine
with our being together
that came as a kind of healing for any previous pain
and on the far road that we have been travelling on
things were now wide and open,
while I read true love in your eyes,
healing for every fear and endless hope,
we went pass every horizon
with days going on and on
and your dreams also became mine
while nothing could hinder us
with the milk white beaches that stretched out around us
you told me your deepest secrets,
your tongue braided intimately around mine,
continuously we courted each other
while my verses went through to your depths,
each new morning brought hope and more love
that captured us again with each other,
with joy that we found in the smallest thing
while the sea threw out shells endlessly on the beaches,
the wind and sea everywhere scattered sand
it felt if every day was summer,
you were suntanned, far past being only lovely.
[Reference: 'the cup of words' by Breyten Breytenbach.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Open Minds
Open your mind,
to things unknown,
search the universe
of your soul.
Open your mind,
to your heart
of feelings
buried deep within.
Open your mind
to your ear
of nature and
its beauty.
Open your mind
to knowledge
of things
unlearned yet.
Open your mind
to days gone
by of memories
vanished away.
Open your mind
to your feelings
hidden away
deep in your heart.
Open your mind
to my heart
to know how
i feel toward you.
wrote 3-31-07
Finding Perfection..Is It Death?
Anyone who has sought this has failed
Some even died trying
Can't you see?
It's just not there, no such thing exists
It has gone extinct when the world was born
They are all looking in the wrong places
Searching for something unheard of
No one deserves it, can find it, and can earn it
There's only one way to acheive it
Life's basic principle..is imperfection
And anyone seeking perfection
Shouldn't be breathing
Death is perfection
But hey, death is the worst thing, right?
So death cannot be perfection
The irony of it all..
poem by Candy Lemons
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Return to the Dream
‘Through The Wormhole’ Morgan Freeman debating whether
intelligent life exists in our universe led to my mind getting stuck
on the wrong mental station where my fictitious characters cannot
help in resolving the argument
My five senses let me experience the dead universe which Morgan
Freeman insists is the only thing in existence – making me feel so
desperately lonely; I need an alternative to the physical depiction
of a cold and lifeless universe
My instincts and feelings require the mystique of Spiritualism and
Occultism to empower my ‘dead’ body in which the ‘thinking ghost’
is enclosed to work efficiently; the ‘thinking ghost in the machine’
theory is suffocating – let me return to the dream
In order to lead a happy and productive life; let these scientists enjoy
their self-created dark, cold and meaningless universe restricted to
their illogical assumptions of undesigned life, the limitations of their
senses and the level of their technology
“Through The Wormhole” - Channel 251 - BBC Knowledge
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Epilogue
Carol, every violet has
Heaven for a looking-glass!
Every little valley lies
Under many-clouded skies;
Every little cottage stands
Girt about with boundless lands.
Every little glimmering pond
Claims the mighty shores beyond—
Shores no seamen ever hailed,
Seas no ship has ever sailed.
All the shores when day is done
Fade into the setting sun,
So the story tries to teach
More than can be told in speech.
Beauty is a fading flower,
Truth is but a wizard's tower,
Where a solemn death-bell tolls,
And a forest round it rolls.
We have come by curious ways
To the light that holds the days;
We have sought in haunts of fear
For that all-enfolding sphere:
And lo! it was not far, but near.
We have found, O foolish-fond,
The shore that has no shore beyond.
Deep in every heart it lies
With its untranscended skies;
For what heaven should bend above
Hearts that own the heaven of love?
Carol, Carol, we have come
Back to heaven, back to home.
poem by Alfred Noyes
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The Ride
In the east they can meditate
They can recreate the sound of all and bring us home
I think Ill go there some day
Maybe for a holiday
Maybe just light a candle, take a seat for the ride
And you dont need no money to fly, to truly fly away (recreate the sound of
All)
And you dont need no car to truly ride, truly ride away (recreate the sound of
All)
In the west we think were the best
Weve shown the whole wide world that money is all we care for
Someday the scientists will see theres no such thing as gravity
Theyll all just light a candle, take a seat for the ride
And you dont need no money to fly, to truly fly away (recreate the sound of
All)
And you dont need no car to truly ride, truly ride away (recreate the sound of
All)
As you ascend in silence, all doubt behind you
You reach the summit my friend and find your destiny
And you dont need no money to fly, to truly fly away (recreate the sound of
All)
And you dont need no car to truly ride, truly ride away (recreate the sound of
All)
And you dont need no money to fly, to truly fly away (recreate the sound of
All)
And you dont need no car to truly ride, truly ride away (recreate the sound of
All)
To truly ride away
song performed by by Live
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In Trying To Understand The Use Of Words
we say the words
and ought to say them
because a certain
reality exists
either
it is bugging us or
it is making us experience
the flights of our
spirits
in blissful journeys
to an edgeless
universe
most of the time
when we are at peace
we say nothing
as though the new solitude
that we have found
is a woman
silent
because there is no way
that a word can enter
her mouth
now so full
of happiness
her thoughts filling
her mind
with so much joy
that she has turned herself
in an open world
now
volunteering as
nothing but
a mere
spectator.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Dreams to Nightmares
I stare at the wall and close my eyes
I started to dream about parts of the world
Beaches to oceans to schools of fish
My dreams turn to nightmares after awhile
The cool, damp beach where sand comes to rest
The emptiness in the pastel blue sky
The sand placed perfectly in place
The smell of salt water against the shore
The crystal clear ocean calm as can be
The current not even moving sea life
Fish eating at the bottom by the sand
The sound of calm waves hitting the shore
The colorful fish ranging from green to blue
Fish from all different sizes
The sound of fish jumping out of the ocean
They swim without a government to follow
The beaches turn to cemeteries
The oceans turn dark gray, and fish floating dead
The sky black as can be with flashes of light
You wake up realizing life is so much different
poem by Kasondra Sytnik
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(Reading Poem) An Escape
To an insight forever more
To the unknown worlds I explore
Travel the unknown
Something ventured
Something gained
Open the book and close your eyes
Whether of the grim
Whether of the greatest
Its still there
In all its glory
It doesn't have to be the fabled story
Perfection is but a mere reflection of such horrid experiences
To tell is my deaths escape
With a single kiss I embrace
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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A Dead Leaf
between these two shores
i float like a dead leaf
am not dead either..
if i was i will not feel the pain
budded flowered and became a fruit
on one shore
eaten and as a bare stray seed laid
at the other shore
as a seed i did germinate
the mother root grew into a tree
an off spring flower and fruit came by
all along as a seed i thought i was the tree itself
I NEVER THOUGHT I WILL LOOSE
MY IDENTITY AS A SEED
CAN A TREE SHOW ITS SEED
EVEN IF IT WANTS TO
ALL ALONG...
I thought i was the tree itself
may be i was a part of each part
the stem to hold, the leaf to nourish
till fate wind blew me down as a dead leaf
today as a dead leaf i float
wanting a living from one shore
wanting relationship from the other
as a dead leaf i float..am not dead with pain
ALL ALONG....
I DID THINK I WAS THE TREE ITSELF
BEING JUST A SEED
poem by Samanyan Lakshminarayanan
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The Planted Seed
you cried because i said that i was leaving
you cried because you knew your heart was deceiving.
you took my love for granted
and in my heart, a seed you had planted.
that seed that you planted
made my love truly grow
but there was something that you did'nt know
that i had a free will, the same as you
and i knew just what to do.
i gathered my strength which
i had tucked inside
a strength which i knew to hide.
i broke those chains with which
you had me bound.
and turned my life completely around
the seed that you planted
had strengthened me,
to a point that i could see
that life with you would be misery.
so i leave you with a smile on my face
i walk away with dignity and grace.
poem by Louis Rams
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Footprints
Footprints in the sand
As deep as they might be
Will someday be washed away
By the wind or by the sea.
The footprints have been placed
Upon the beaches sand
In memory of a creature
Proclaiming Himself as Man.
I followed this set of footprints
Placed upon the beaches Earth
To find out where Man had gone to,
And to find out His Earthly worth.
Many of the footprints were deep,
Placed upon the beaches sand,
From the troubles that Man had kept
With memories held in His hand.
And the footprints, that were placed wide
They were many upon the beach,
Were they from the trouble that Man did hide,
Or was it from happiness, that was out of reach.
And then as I noticed in front of me
The footprints were swept away,
Man again was forgotten
Until He returned another day.
Then I looked behind me,
I saw my footprints in the sand
And I know someone will follow them
While wondering, who was this Man.
Had my footprints been placed deep,
Or were they placed apart very wide,
Will they wondered if I ever laughed,
Or if I cried, from sorrows I couldn't hide.
So I closed my eyes and I wondered
About the footprints that I had placed
Someday, will Man He follow them,
While believing my life a waste.
So I continued my walk upon the beach,
I was a very joyful and happy Man,
I left my sorrow and trouble behind me,
In my footprints in the sand.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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