Eagle dive
One bright summer day
while walking in the veldt
I heard an eagle cry
where it swirled high
up in the sky, far beyond,
turning in a little speck
against the bottomless blue.
It drifted on secret winds
hanging, gliding
as if meant to be part of the sky.
Suddenly with great speed
it came down, came down
with paws and claws
stretched out to kill
and in dimensions it grew larger,
almost larger than life
just missing me,
grabbing the hare
that I did not notice
where it was hiding
a few paces away from me
and sometimes still
the beauty, the raw power, its flattening shadow
falls over me, in thoughts.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The gliding death angel
Only a dot is caught
in the early morning air
of the eagle
in its morning flight
where almost invisible small
it hangs storeys high
in radial winds
in a little dot against the blue
before with stretched out claws
lightning fast
as a shadow
it falls from heaven
with death
striking in precision.
[Reference: Arend speel doodsengel by Jan Lourens.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Goshawk
The turning hawk suddenly breaks its flight
with claws stretched out,
it falls like thunder from the sky.
The turning hawk suddenly breaks its flight
and even when its prey is anxious
.it falls as if it is drawing into the earth;
the turning hawk suddenly breaks its flight,
with claws stretched out.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The singing falcon (hybridanelle)
I heard the falcon’s cry,
a myth of native lore
from high up in the sky
like a golden-hot ray
it came from the sun
at the break of day
sublime the notes came as I
walked the veldt, with beauty at the core.
I heard the falcon’s cry;
it was very high and far away
only a speck in the solar gradient,
it came from the sun.
I could not see it with my eye
it turned on upper winds to explore
from high up in the sky
it was triumphant, glowing radiant,
pure as light turned to sound
only a speck in the solar gradient,
the air was azure and the day was dry
and I was on the track of a lone lion before
I heard the falcon’s cry
and great beauty that I found
as if hearing a flying trumpet sing
pure as light turned to sound
I saw the soaring predator fly
with claws and beak ready to gore
from high up in the sky
and it made my ears ring,
inside its resonance
as if hearing a flying trumpet sing
a thing no money could buy
or imitate in a musical score.
I heard the falcon’s cry
from high up in the sky
pristine without dissonance
like a golden-hot ray
inside its resonance
at the break of day.
[References: The Singing Hawk by Roy Campbell. With great thanks to Ronald Peat for his help.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Larger Than Life
If you want to make believe
Theres nothing up my sleeve
Im a man as man can be
As you can plainly see
Dont want to see no tears
Eliminate your fears
When you think youve seen it all, baby
You cant believe your eyes, what you heard werent lies
My love is too much to hold, too much to hold
Much to much
Im someone you cant fight
Im plain in size
You cant believe your eyes
What you heard were not lies
Im too much to hold
I cant be bought or sold
Im far more than a man
Im gonna make you understand
Im larger than a life size man
And you cant believe your eyes, what you heard werent lies
My love is too much to hold, too much to hold
My love is larger than life, ooh larger than life
My love is larger than life, larger than life
My love is too much to hold, it cant be sold, oh no
You cant believe your eyes, what you heard werent lies
My love is too much to hold, too much to hold
My love is larger than life, larger than life
My love is larger than life, larger than life
My love is too much to hold, it cant be sold, oh no
Im larger than a life size man
My love is larger than life, larger than life
My love is larger than life, ooh larger than life
My love is too much to hold, it cant be sold, oh no
song performed by by Kiss
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A security cam is one small part of a much larger universe of cams. The much larger effect, socially, politically and economically, is going to come from a much larger trend.
quote by Bruce Sterling
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Boakye
The magic of Africa and the beauty of Africa,
Visit Africa to see the wonders of the cultures of the people;
For the mighty River Zambezi and the Victoria Falls are part of us.
Come and learn about the traditional life style of the Africans,
For my name is Boakye and i came from Ghana.
I have more stories to for you as well and,
Your visit will know the humanities and the identities too;
For the mountains of the broken bottles await you.
Cat paws and eagle claws,
We are still in here with the beauty of nature.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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A lonely young boy herds some cattle
In the open veldt
a lonely young six year old boy
herds some cattle
and follows them as they are grazing
following shoots of green grass
that appeared after the early summer rains
and he knows the names of every one
and with a knobbed walking-stick in his hands
he guides them while looking out
for leopards that are sneaking around
in the nearby hillocks
and time and again
his eyes is on the ground
finding tracks.
Out of an open blue sky
suddenly a big shade covers him
and before he realizes
that danger is upon him
a huge bird falls as quickly
as a bolt of lightning from the sky
with claws stretching out.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The eagle
I saw the eagle turn in air space
on radial winds
like a kite it hanged there,
a dot high above in the blue,
a thing clenching to the heights
that knows to where those winds blow
time and again turning on its circling course.
Almost effortless with equilibrium
it is a master of the air,
until it dives like a thunderbolt
and in swiftness
exposes its claws downwards
descending deadly, in a moment,
right on target.
poem by Gert Strydom
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A Womb's Virtues
What's womb beauty but an art divine
Where in my soul's graces shine
Sun like animates my being's charms
With a face, form, gesture, voice and a mind
Of a race that was and as such I'm myself
A part of the great cause, fed by some one
Larger than me.Strength matters little,
Speed not at all, no worrying, no plan
Just being there-a childish beauty,
Dream woven, cradled in now-
Of the oncoming awakening in the immortal
Better half side of life, have no knowledge.
poem by Yoonoos Peerbocus
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Pads, Paws & Claws
Shes a feline tormentor, not any vaudeville wife
But with a drunk-town lament he leads her a miserable life
But when hes full of that beer-champagne
She pads, paws, pads, paws and claws
And if he should wake up in some terrible dive
And he dont know if hes so-so
But hes so surprised hes alive
Come on little honey, let me under your hive
She pads, paws, pads, paws and claws
She pads, pads around the bedroom, practicing ways to flirt
He paws, pours another drink and anything in a skirt
Anything wearing a necklace
He thinks of claws scratching his back hes
Going out there hes not coming back
Shes got spider-leg fingers, sharpened whenever he strays
And she carries a bird-purse, with all of her womanly ways
til hes drinking hairspray, she knows that he never would dare
She could be in pictures if she wasnt all covered in fur
Hes coming home now and heres the surprise
You wouldnt believe the lies that he tries
She cut him down to her favourite size
She pads, paws, pads, paws and claws
She pads, paws, pads, paws and claws
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pads, Paws And Claws
Shes a feline tormentor, not any vaudeville wife
But with a drunk-town lament he leads her a miserable life
But when hes full of that beer-champagne
She pads, paws, pads, paws and claws
And if he should wake up in some terrible dive
And he dont know if hes so-so
But hes so surprised hes alive
"come on little honey, let me under your hive"
She pads, paws, pads, paws and claws
She pads, pads around the bedroom, practicing ways to flirt
He paws, pours another drink and anything in a skirt
Anything wearing a necklace
He thinks of claws scratching his back hes
Going out there hes not coming back
Shes got spider-leg fingers, sharpened whenever he strays
And she carries a bird-purse, with all of her womanly ways
til hes drinking hairspray, she knows that he never would dare
She could be in pictures if she wasnt all covered in fur
Hes coming home now and heres the surprise
You wouldnt believe the lies that he tries
She cut him down to her favourite size
She pads, paws, pads, paws and claws
She pads, paws, pads, paws and claws
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Dream In Atlantis
In the distance you notice a flickering light.
It grows brighter and larger as you slice your
way through the cold water.
What can it be?
Soon a glowing coral reef reveals itself.
You can almost compare the light it emits to daylight,
so strong is it.
Much to your astonishment you find
the reef molded into what seems to be buildings.
There are arch ways,
what seems to be windows and wait...
what’s that?
A person?
You’ve spotted a merman!
Someone like you now.
And there are more of them!
They notice you and suddenly
several of them torpedo towards you at great speed.
For the first time in your dream
you are frightened.
They come bearing smiles however,
each one of them funneling around you
as they swim up,
twisting their bodies around yours
without touching you
and finally halting above
of you as they conclude
what seems to be a greeting.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The ideal life is in our blood and never will be still. Sad will be the day for any man when he becomes contented with the thoughts he is thinking and the deeds he is doing -- where there is not forever beating at the doors of his soul some great desire to do something larger, which he knows that he was meant and made to do.
quote by Phillips Brooks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The summer
The summer is busy
catching speed
and I see how the bright blue sky,
is changed by clouds
that suddenly hangs dark and breeding.
In the distance a thunder rolls
and there are big drops
that falls about me in the red dirt
and I can almost see the grass,
bushes and trees
jump centimetres
from the power
that the clear drops bring.
Small sprouts are bursting green
out of the red brown ground
in the vegetable garden
and the magic of new life
is everywhere to be seen.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Beauty Of A Summer's Day
The beauty of a Summer's day begins
Watching the bright, morning sun rise,
Dew upon the lawn and roses,
And the early flight of colorful butterflies.
The beauty of a Summer's day
Is an attractive and picturesque one,
A sky of a variable color of pale to light blue,
And sport and entertainment for everyone.
The beauty of a Summer's day
Is stetched with green foliage on the hill,
And colorful wildflowers bordering the roadway,
The water wheel turning at the grist mill.
The beauty of a Summer's day increases
Watching the rolling waves of the ocean,
Sea shells washing upon the sandy shore,
And gazing at the sea gulls gliding in slow motion.
The finality of a Summer's day
Is depicted with memorable scenes
Of picnicking, camping, swimming, and traveling,
Reserved for Summer enthusiasts for future dreams.
poem by Joseph T. Renaldi
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The Jump
He is standing at the open door of the aircraft
and see his life flashing past,
while strong winds are pulling
on his face and jacket
and the light keeps on flashing green
and somebody taps him on the shoulder.
It’s like a explorer
walking into an new world,
with the earth rushing past beneath him
and he is almost above the horizon.
It’s as if for moments
he is hanging and feeling insignificant
and he is thought struck
while he falls at terminal velocity,
the wind is whistling in his ears
and it is then that he locks his thoughts,
knowing that man is but paltry
and seconds drags on like hours
before he pulls the string,
the parachute rushes open,
breaking his fall with force
and he is gliding like an eagle
while he’s riding the wind,
getting breathtaking views
of the scenery
that stretches out far below him,
drawing a picture
up to the horizon.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Sad will be the day for any man when he becomes contented with the thoughts he is thinking and the deeds he is doing - where there is not forever beating at the doors of his soul some great desire to do something larger; which he knows he was meant and made to do.
quote by Phillips Brooks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mid Summer Beauty
Thou blossomed into a true beauty that summer.
Thy hair grew more golden as the summer progressed.
Thy eyes, took on the deep blue of the summer sky,
and thy complextion, as soft as a summer cloud.
Oh! How I hope for thee,
that thy bright summer sky-blue eyes like glowing sapphires,
be not be dim,
like a dark cloud passed over the sun.
For truly, thou are a mid summer beauty.
poem by Laura Nnamdi
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Life is larger than You and Me
Likes & dislikes, preference & biases
Mundanely worries or heavenly glee
Existance must be liberated and free
Life is much larger than you and me
We fall short to comprehend it
And say its not my cup of tea
Goals of ABC education, n Job XYZ
Fail its meaning, when u look back and see
coz life is much larger than you and me
The success of life is achievment and victory
status, a big name, pots of Gold and Money
Society issues ones Boom's decree
Tied all the way, but think you are free
Life is much larger than you and me
Say! blessed are the prosperous ones, I disagree
Worldly goals buy contentment, not guaranteed
feel joyed, when have peace internally
Your love, your children will complete this potpourri
So live as unbind not as abductee
Life is much larger than you and me
poem by Samima Shah
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As the audiences got larger, the participation got larger. And I found myself in Dallas, and 20,000 people were singing 'Madonna Whore' back at me. I thought... this is really a great thing. They wanted to hear it really badly, and here they are.
quote by Cyndi Lauper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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