En.Citatepedia^®.ro

At the red sea

In the distance he see them coming,
war chariots filling the horizon
and the rumbling of horse hooves
are getting louder
as they are getting nearer.

Caught between the deep blue sea
and the desert
men, women and children stand
around him
and fear is in their eyes
for the vengeance of Pharaoh
who regards himself equal to God.

They glance away
from the cloud that gives shelter
and the morning’s manna
that was sweet on their lips,
are also already forgotten
and most are truly convinced
that he is leading them
to utter destruction.

Horses neigh a lot closer
when he hits the sea
with his mighty staff,
the sea cleave open
and walls of water glide away
and gather at two sides
till a dry road
leads right through to the other side.

There are thunder rumbling ominous
from the cloud above them
and a strong eastern wind
spraying water
like vapours of rain from the sea
and blowing it to the enemy.

While Pharaoh and his soldiers
witnesses these things
they come at speed
following the path through the sea
and in the middle of the waters
they begin to sink in
and the last
of his people are through
and he lift his eyes up
to where more lightning bolts
now come from the column of cloud.

Then he reaches his hand out
over the red sea
and hold that mighty staff
into the air

and everywhere
thunder hits reaching over the sea
and suddenly walls of water break
with angry power
and enemy chariots, horsemen,
horses and men are gone,
covered by water
and every one there
know from where
their salvation comes.

[Reference: Exodus 14: 1-31.]

poem by Gert Strydom
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The rod of God

I

What a mighty rod I saw
through which God
did His wondrous deeds
from the moment
that Moses met Him
on holy ground
at that miraculous burning bush

turning into a snake
that consumed other snakes
before becoming a staff again,
striking the water
of the river Nile to become blood,
making the fish die
and the river stink
making frogs appear all over,

striking the dust
invoking lice to appear,
calling big stones of hail
and thunder to fall
from the sky,
causing locusts to appear
along with the East wind

opening the Red Sea
and closing it on the Egyptian enemy
to wipe men, horses and chariots away,

splitting the rock open
for a stream of water to flow out
and butting alive with almond flowers
while resting in the Holy Ark
in the sight of the almighty God.

II

I wonder where it is now,
to where did the Holy Ark disappear
and the Rod of God?

While time glided away running on
day-by-day until thousands of years
have past
and people doubt its existence
and call it just another tale,
but to me the story rings true.

poem by Gert Strydom
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Trip Through Your Wires

In the distance
She saw me coming
I was calling out
I was calling out
Still shaking
Still in pain
Angel or devil
I was thirsty
And you wet my lips
You, Im waiting for you
You, you set my desire
I trip through your wires
I was broken, bent out of shape
I was naked in the clothes you made
My lips were dry, throat like rust
You gave me shelter
]from the heat and the dust
Theres no more water in the well
No more water in the well
Angel or devil
I was thirsty and you wet my lips
You, Im waiting for you
You, you set my desire
I trip through your wires
Thunder, thunder on the mountain
Theres a rain cloud in the desert sky
In the distance you saw me coming
I was calling out
I was calling out

song performed by by U2
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pink Clouds Never Rain

I have never see a pink cloud rain before.
I have only seen a magenta bolt of lightening try to strike my heart, and
Aqua tears trickling from my dazzled misty eyes, down my
Flushed and lonesome cheek, though
I have never see a pink cloud rain before.

I have never seen a pink cloud rain before.
I have seen spotted purple snakes crawling up my bedroom walls, and
Transparent bubbles filled with dreams floating before my very eyes, though,
I have never seen a pink cloud rain before.

I have never seen a pink cloud rain before, though
I have seen a reddish sun cast shadows down upon a tortuous, rippling river;
I have seen tears cascading down a sloping hill, and
Gulls flapping their gentle, feathered wings atop some cragged cliffs, although
I have never seen a pink cloud rain before.

I have never seen a pink cloud rain before, although
I have heard eerie and commanding thoughts and voices
That no one else could hear.
I have had disturbing, stabbing thoughts that have injured me inside, though
I have never seen a pink cloud rain before.

I have never seen a pink cloud rain before, although
I have slid down an icy mountainside on a very sunny night.
I have wept a sea of deep blue and purple tears, though
I have never seen a pink cloud rain before.

I have never heard thunder clap behind a rosy cloud, or seen
Tears fall from heaven or have heard angels singing.
I have had morbid thoughts of loss, death and suicide,
While thunder clapped, and
These pink clouds could not rain.

Perhaps someday I shall see a pink cloud rain upon a
Magnificent world, which I have created for myself,
Where tall green and golden reeds are surrounded by swirling water pools, and
A hallucinogenic sun sets behind high and mighty mountains-
And there, people would be trustworthy and true to heart.

No, I have never seen a pink cloud rain before, although,
I have seen almost everything there is to see-
Some good sights and some bad-
I have heard some screaming voices echo in my mind, although,
Some quiet ones as well.
I have seen some orange and, pinkish sunsets, and mirages in
The fortress of my own mind, however-
I have never seen a pink cloud rain before, and
I have never seen a pink cloud weep before….

Claudia Krizay

poem by Claudia Krizay
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Shards of the Cloud

The rumbling boom, vibrates all that is near the ribs,
The power of a storm, embarking over the land,
Drifting overhead eyes spot it coming, a cloud,
Dark, gloomy mists of crashing waves rise as a tide over the sky,
The arrival shades the earth with its somber tone,
Reaching to tell us what it has,
Its power,
We watch in awe as it overwhelms,
A flash beats,
Everything is flooded with the light,
Nothing left untouched by the white covering,
Then gone;
Following with the repetition of another Boom,
And the cloud falls in pieces, shattered,
The shards clash on the ground,
I walk beyond the frame of the door,
The shards prance on my head,
Bouncing as their kin at my feet,
I look to the covered firmament,
Upon my face the shards dribble and pounce,
I smile,
With correlation to my lips, my arms rise,
Fingers open,
As the shards of the shattered cloud fall,
They wet, everything and all,
This is the power of a cloud,
This is why it’s so proud,
Nothing from it can hide,
It is power,
It is water,
It is shards of clouds,
Breathing bliss into my life.

poem by Keel Lincoln
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Y.... River meets desert

A young river,
So strong
Nothing could stop it
Nothing went wrong

Big rocks in its way
No problem at all
It went over them
Around them if tall

But then it met the desert
Water sank deep into sand
Huge problem for the river
It looked like its life was to end

Desperately
It turned to our God
'Please, God help me
To get away from or over this spot'

A voice from above said
'Look at the wind in the sky
It crosses the desert so easily
So just stop to cry! '

'But I am not wind, I am water
How can I cross
Please help me
I am at a loss'

'Did you forget dear river, '
Said the voice from above
'Long time before you were a river
The wind carried you with love'

The river let its water evaporate
Allowed the wind to carry it once more
In its loving arms,
wind held the river as before

Across the desert they went
A lot of water in a big large cloud
And at the other side
The wind let it rain out

There the river again became strong
Even better and stronger than before
With much vigor it ran
For everyone to adore

Dear young men and women alike
If you meet with the desert or anything wrong
Remember who carried you
Before you became a river so strong

poem by Aufie Zophy
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The Flying Dutchman

The blue water stretches
as far as visibility allows to see
and there’s fog
rising white before the storm
out of the water.

The dusk becomes grey
and the sea from blue to dark black
while the night
darker than ink, as only companion
folds over the old ancient ship.

It’s Van der Decken standing as tiller man
behind the big wheel
and forever he steers the ship
on the journey that she goes.

Always cursing
his loud voice thunders
like lightning falling around him
for sailors to tend the sails right
and sails are hoisted crunching, groaning and trembling
with strong ropes
and the ship jumps
over the smashing waves.

Like a phantom
the Flying Dutchman appears
with white sails like a wraith
over the horizon
where it sails before a storm with speed.

The ship becomes lager
as the storm wind
brings her closer
and you hear her creak
against the power of the wind.

There’s thunder bolts blinding suddenly
and sea birds flies screeching
out in front of her,
while Van der Decken’s skeleton
drills his men powerless
to set the sails right
that is vibrating against the wind.

“How long still Lord, ”
echoes against the sea and sky,
without a answer
ever coming
and suddenly the ship is gone
as if it disappeared in the naught.

poem by Gert Strydom
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Psalm 147

Come and lift your voice all ye people
And praise our glorious King
Let the church bells ring in the steeple
As we gather together and sing

He heals the broken-hearted
He is great and mighty in power
From the proud He has departed
Even now until this hour

All the stars up in the night sky
He knows them one by one
From the valley's low to the mountains high
He is brighter than the sun

He covers the heavens with a cloud
As He prepares the rain
He makes the thunder clap out loud
And all my enemies He has slain

He does not regard the strength of man
Nor what our enemies desire
Battles are won, according to His plans
He sets the chariots on fire

poem by Frank McEleny
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Alone on holiday away from you

White, red and yellow lilies
grow rampant and wild
next to the train tracts
between Somerset West
and the Strand
where I am on the train
from Bellville

and there’s a
white-hot sun that burns
high from above

and I can smell the sea
while I look
at the magical
dark blue water,

but you will not like
the cold water
and the light breeze
that blows today

and here and there
there are people
sending kites
into the air

and I see them
hanging flapping above
while a few
diving down with speed

and there’s sandpaper
in the beach wind
that hits me with sea sand
and the waves
rollick like wild horses

and in the distance
I see the road turning
past Gordonsbay
and I am alone on holiday
away from you.

poem by Gert Strydom
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Clouds By Number

Cloud Nine lived a life of fantasy,
Barely conceding the existence of Cloud Eight,
Who felt jealousy for Cloud Seven's
Silver lining,
Although it was saturnine.
Cloud Six lived a life in a daze,
Dozing in the sun's rays;
While Cloud Five held a bellyful of rain
That it wept onto
The arid plain.
Cloud Four came out of nowhere,
Hugging Cloud Three,
Making way, hurriedly, for Cloud Two,
Who shot lightning and thunder,
And like a magic trick
Became Cloud One.
The Great Funnel Cloud,
Who left nothing after its short reign
But a painful memory and a swollen path to be filled with regrets.

poem by Stan Petrovich
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Rain drive

I see a big storm
hanging dark against the sky
and lightning bolts,
that hit smashing to the ground.

There are big drops
that hit whipping down
and the black road
wet and somewhat slippery.

There’s no way
to ride away from the storm
and the traffic
stand still in front of me,
but with a motorbike
you can cut past cars.

It’s as if clouds of steam
rise out of the hot tar road,
but the screen
of the helmet
is covered by the rain
that I have difficulty seeing
to were to go
and which cars are moving or standing.

With Soutpansberg avenue that lies open before me
I open the throttle
and there’s wind, rain
and thunders that fall flashing blue
around me
and resound somewhere behind the motorbike
and the rain on my hands
hits like hail.
.
The leather jacket keeps the top of my body dry and warm,
but the bottom
is soaked and wet
and I feel the coldness
rising from below.

There’s busses coming from the front
that throws water whipping
as far as they go
and somewhere in the left lane,
there’s cars stopping for a pothole
and my motorbike catches speed
past in the right lane.

poem by Gert Strydom
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Lord Of The Storm

Can I walk upon this water
In the midst of this mighty sea
Surely I will stumble, surely I will drown
Oh Lord how can this be

The waves are high and the wind it howls
And the rain it lashes down
Yet you are there, I see you Lord
Now I know I shall not drown

Then the thunder roars and the lightning flashes
High above in the angry skies
Dark clouds rising, set on fire
To them do I lift my eyes

Heavier now the rain is falling
The noise so loud I cannot think
The lightening fractures the sky above
And my legs, they begin to sink

I look around, eyes wide with terror
As all this madness does unfold
I look once more, there, it's Jesus
In the midst of the storm, standing bold

I am your peace when all hell breaks loose
Devils and demons flee
In the storm, in the night, when all breaks down
Remember, keep your eyes upon me.

poem by Frank McEleny
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Psalm 76

You are glorious and excellent
In all the earth you reign
You are high and lifted up
Where no mortal can attain

Mighty armies marched against you
You people, Pharaoh tried to keep
They rode with chariots and horses
But they were cast into the deep

Who would raise their hands against you?
Where even demons fear to tread
The wrath of man shall praise you
And bow his knee to you instead

Knees shall bow and tongue confess
That Jesus Christ is King
Of those in heaven and on earth
All their praises they shall bring

poem by Frank McEleny
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Sonnets of the stone ruins

I

Long ago a mighty hunter
sailed on the river to look for medicine
and his canoe made from tree
was swept along with uprooted trees
by a river in flood.

He lost control over the boat
and in the distance
a thundering sound
hanged in the air
mighty smoke
rose ghostly out of the water
in a fine spray
and he could hear tons of water
flowing down a cataract.

II

While the canoe was spinning round
and round
he tied a long thin strong thong
to a arrow
and with all the power in his strong arms
he draws the bow’s string and set his aim
on a massive tree
standing on the shore.

The arrow caught speed
and hanged a moment in the grey air
before it hit the tree with great force
and the thong spanned stiff
and his arms with desperate power
overcame the river.

III

He passed the remains
of ancient mines
and villages declining
and overgrown by bushes
and suddenly there were rock walls and towers
and branches creeping
into the walls.

Cautiously he sneaked nearer
and shot a arrow through a spitting cobra
and suddenly a figure appeared behind a bush,
but before his rock could hit it
it disappeared into the nought
and against a niche another figure stared
deep into his thoughts

IV

When he stormed with assegai in his hand
onto that figure
it disappeared around a corner
into a dark passageway
and all at once
there was an animal with glowing eyes
breathing heavily in the dark in front of him
and he lifted his shield against it
And took a firm grip on the back of the spear.

With rotting breath and cruel anger
a lion leaped with stretched out claws
growling onto him,
but he was shield somewhat
While the assegai went deep past the animal’s ribs.

V

While the lion died in anger
the claws ripped deep into the hunter’s shoulder
and his sharp knife
slashed time after time
through the animal’s heart
and covered in blood
he came out
from under weight of the dead lion.

In horror he saw
the lion changing slowly
from animal to human
with a spear through his ribs
and a lion skin
around his shoulders.

VI

He was still busy
dragging the lion skin from the killed man
and felt the soft fur
in his hands,
when to more lions
in anger leaped on him.

It was too much for him
since both knife and spear
still wedged into the dead man
and with the fighting
he had lost
his bow and arrows
and he was cornered
by lions ripping from both sides.

VII

l’Envoi

It is told
than when the air is open
and the moon takes long to rise
a mighty hunter appears
with the rain gods
where they bash their shields
and spears against each other
and that the air
is now his hunting ground

You can see stripes of thunder
when his arrows with thongs
dropp down to earth,
before the new season’s
first raindrops fall.

[Reference: With thanks to “The ivory trail” by T.V. Bulpin that gave me the idea of this poem.]

poem by Gert Strydom
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Looking for Water

Still the leaves are spinning 'round
Take my hand as we go down, and down, and down
Looking for water
Well, our light's gone in a New York minute
Don't know about you, but my heart's not in it
(Looking, looking, looking)
I'm looking for water
I'm looking for water
(Looking, looking, looking)
I can't breathe the air, can't raise a fact
'Cause all we've got left is a beat in the night, and I'm
(Looking for water)
Looking for water
(Looking for water)
(Looking, looking)
Take my hand as we go down, and down
Leave it all behind, nothing could be found
(I'm, looking for water)
I'm looking for water
(Looking for water)
(Looking, looking)
(I, looking for water)
Looking everywhere
(Looking for water)
Looking here and there
(I'm looking for water)
I'm looking for water
(Looking for water)
(Looking, looking)
I can't live in this cage, I can't eat this candy
The edge of the earth to the spin in my head
The look in your eyes and never means never
The dawn's early light, baby, dark is forever
(Looking, looking)
(Looking, looking)
(Looking for water)
(Looking, looking)
I
(Looking for water)
(Looking for water)
(Looking, looking)
I
(Looking for water)
(Looking for water)
(Looking, looking)
I
(Looking for water)
(Looking for watter)
Looking, looking)
I
(Looking for water)
(Looking for watter)
Looking, looking)
I
(Looking for water)
(Looking for watter)

song performed by by David Bowie, music by David Bowie, lyrics by David Bowie from Reality
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cornfield

I see the young green buds
and smell the rain falling on fruitful ground
somewhere in the distance there are thunderbolts
that every now and then falls, explodes and branch.

A long forgotten summer still stays with me
and the glow of your bright blue eyes
where in the shade of a big old oak tree
we had a picnic next to this cornfield,

the rain that suddenly falls from a cloudless sky,
lightning bolts that ominous get closer and closer
and you and me running like elated children
in the cornfield
to the shelter of the shed
and like naughty children
embrace against each other

but here life has also passed me
and what I have of you, is only memories,
a grave where I sometimes put flowers
and sometimes it’s as if you
are still invisible keeping near to me.

poem by Gert Strydom
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Johnny Thunder

Johnny thunder lives on water, feeds on lightning.
Johnny thunder dont need no one, dont want money.
And all the people of the town,
They cant get through to johnny, they will never, ever break him down.
Johnny thunder speaks for no one, goes on fighting.
And sweet helena in bed[? ] prays for johnny.
Ba ba-ba ba ba-ba ba,
Ba ba-ba ba ba-ba ba,
Thunder and lightning.
Ba ba-ba ba ba-ba ba,
Ba ba-ba ba ba-ba ba,
Thunder and lightning.
Though everybody tried their best,
Old johnny vowed that he would never, ever end up like the rest.
Johnny thunder rides the highway, moves like lightning.
But sweet helena just says, God bless johnny.
Ba ba-ba ba ba-ba ba,
Ba ba-ba ba ba-ba ba,
Thunder and lightning.
Ba ba-ba ba ba-ba ba,
Ba ba-ba ba ba-ba ba,
Thunder and lightning.

song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Spring

this afternoon
i watch the coming of a
water spring
from the rock that i
built
two years ago
it was not intended
to be concealed
a staff hits it
and water flowed with
extreme pressure
rising
looking for the finger
of the sky
i am not surprised
things like this
happen
like a spring wanting to
rise above
the river
i am the river
and it shocks the sense
of my water
to find a droplet of rain
rising to the
sky

i slew it
like dew at dawn
from a leaf
and i smash
whatever its nature
is

disrespect to the
highest degree
behaving beyond
what justice
was there
that i thought of

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Everywhere water

Everywhere there is water
In sea in river
In rain in pain
In pleasure in vapour
Everywhere there is water
In cloud in ice
And you say nice.
You are like water
I am a mere river.
I can overflow I get dry
You remain as you are
Without smile without cry.
I am temporary
You are permanent
As you see
I am wave
You are sea.
You are water
I am water
O my dear
My road is clear
I must reach you
Opinion not differ
And it is not dear.

poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Fountains Of Aix

Beards of water
some of them have.
Others are blowing whistles of water.
Faces astonished that constant water
jumps from their mouths.
Jaws of lions are snarling water
through green teeth over chins of moss.
Dolphins toss jets of water
from open snouts
to an upper theater of water.
Children are riding swans and water
coils from the S-shaped necks and spills
in flat foils from pincered bills.
A solemn curly-headed bull
puts out a swollen tongue of water.
Cupids naked are making water
into a font that never is full.
A goddess is driving a chariot through water.
Her reins and whips are tight white water.
Bronze hoofs of horses wrangle with water.
Marble faces half hidden in leaves.
Faces whose hair is leaves and grapes
of stone are peering from living leaves.
Faces with mossy lips unlocked
always uttering water,
water
wearing their features blank
their ears deaf, their eyes mad
or patient or blind or astonished at water
always uttered out of their mouths.

poem by May Swenson
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A Relifef in Surprise!

Rain is lashing out at its best on Western side mounts!
Dams are filling with overwhelming water after summer!
Dry canals are having over flowing water in Easter side!
What a pleasant surprise though the days are hot and hot!

What else is wanted on the Eastern side of the country?
Whether hot Sun burns all with heat or not water is there
To irrigate the fields and quench the thirst of people much!
Is it called blessing in disguise or what else could it be?

Though rivers are linked or not to bring water to dry lands
If rain and water flow everywhere people are blessed much!
This is what everybody prays everyday to God in dry places
And the prayer is answered after many trials and tribulations!

poem by Ramesh T A
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