The first city
The great hunter Nimrod
was a mighty leader of men
who ripped beasts and lions
apart with his bare hands
and he led them out of the mountains
and on the wide open plain of Shinar
they made a city fair
calling it Babylon
and men build a great tower there
from baked bricks plastered with
asphalt and bitumen
trying to reach to the sky
their Ziggurat was rising high.
They tried to build a gate to God
and they believed that no god
would be able to touch them there,
where it rose up in stepped stages
but the Lord came down
and lighting fell from the sky
hitting the tower again and again
and it stood burning
in unquenchable flames.
[Reference: Genesis 11: 1-9. Asphalt and bitumen = tar.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Tower blocks
In ancient times
men tried to build us,
on a plain in Shinar
using burnt bricks
and bitumen for mortar,
but they build in vain.
Like a flower on its stalk
we rise into the sky,
shaped to withstand
weather, wind, storm
and even earthquakes.
We wear glass, concrete
and lightning up high
and stars shine at night
on our skin
and humans live
and work within.
poem by Gert Strydom
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where are your powers Babylon?
Illustrious Babylon
where are your powers now?
city of fame
city of gold and silver
city of a famous name
where are your powers now?
city of wonders
empire of sin
Babylon
city of ruins
mighty Babylon
city of prowess
empire of old
empire of supremacy
rich with stolen gold
where are you now?
city of the hanging gardens
city holding the righteous captive
where are your powers Babylon?
city of desolate wastes
ferocious Babylon
look out over the valley
Cyrus the great of Persia
with his army of men
and Darius the Mede
with his army of men
diverting the great river Euphrates
and sneaking under your walls
your 'impenetrible walls
Babylon
city of ruins
Where are your powers
King Nebuchadnezzar?
your colossal gate is open
your subjects are drunk
drunk with wine and blood
unaware of approaching destruction
living their normal course of life
where are you now Babylon?
heaped in ruin and desolation
...forever
now just a dry desert plain
and the wind goes...hush...
poem by Allen Steble
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A Tower of Power
We will build a tower
With unbridled spring-water attitudes
Flowing with fires of charity
For all the suffering multitudes
Dispossessed and swallowing poverty
We will give them power
We will build a tower
With lots of windows and no ears
With promises for those who have ceased their quest
For the young and old in years
For those who no longer turn west
We will give them power
We will give them power
Give them tomorrows and rainbows in tomorrow’s flowers
Help them fill pitchers with milk, honey, and cream
Reap the green of crops they have never seen
Shelter them from the cold, black screams
They will scale the tower
We will build a tower
They will scale like goats and soar like eagles
Who climbs higher than these birds?
They will peer through rose-colored gothic windows
And see the many rainbows of blooming flowers spilling colors
They will have the power
We will build a tower
For those near and far
Those who lost their dreams
Those who ceased the quest
Those no longer traveling west
Our actions will speak louder than words
They will sing the music of the birds
Learn to disregard the terms
Of all their unanswered yearns
- June 5,2007
poem by Ben Gieske
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Noon On The Barrier Ranges
THE saltbush steeped in drowsy stillness lies,
The mulga seems to swoon,
A hawk hangs poised within the burning skies,
And it is noon.
The river-gums, their leaf-pores closed, distil
No fresh and cooling breath;
I stand upon an old hard-bitten hill,
Wide plains beneath.
Here stood tall mountains when the world was young,
Their peaks uplifted high;
Here was the song of many waters sung
In days gone by.
The monarch Change, whose will no power withstands
Vast lord of might
At work by night and day, with tireless hands
Planed down their height.
With such to see, and seeing ponder on,
Such mighty ruin wrought,
Why should we wonder at proud Babylon
Brought down to nought?
Be not amazed, though princes be displaced
And kingdoms overcast;
Are empires more than mountains, basalt-based,
That they should last?
A sense of things unreal, seen in dream,
Is over plain and heights —
The time-worn rocks, the crumbled earth, the gleam
Of mirage lights;
The horseman riding with a slackened rein
Alone, a silent man;
The weird, dust-sprites that whirl across the plain
A little span;
The earth-hued lizard, on the sun-baked rock
Stretched out in stirless sleep;
The far-off drover and his dusty flock
Of travelling sheep;
The hidden birds that break the hush, and call,
And sink again to rest,
The dust-storm, hanging, like a crimson shawl,
Within the west;
The white quartz glittering on the umber track,
The claypans cracked and bare;
The poised hawk, hanging like a menace black
In middle air;
The wonder of the spacious plain and sky,
The splendour of it all;
The all that is not I — so wide, so high,
And I so small!
The sun swings on, and up the western verge
The great shawl-cloud spreads wide,
Till sky and plain in oneness meet and merge,
Fierce-lit, red-dyed.
A wind, hell-hot and surged with fury, whips
The trees upon its path,
And all is sudden turmoil and eclipse,
And cries of wrath.
A choking darkness draws across the sun
And clouds his splendour o'er,
And though but half his pilgrimage be done,
'Tis noon no more.
poem by Roderic Quinn
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Another Pyramid
Sad to say our mighty ruler
Is not really in the pink
Hopes could not be minuscular
That he'll come back from the brink
Not to beat around the bush
He looks like heading for his box
At the risk of seeming pushy
We must plan for future shocks
According to the hawk of Horus
Our most regal invalid
Is not that much longer for us
Build another pyramid
Build it, build it
Another pyramid
build it, build it
Though all doctors and physicians
Have been summoned to his bed
It'll soon be top morticians
We'll be calling for instead
With each wheeze the nation's humming
Egypt shakes with every cough
No two ways about what's coming
No discussion, bets are off
Soon our monarch will have filled the tomb
Just like his fathers did
Summon Egypt's greatest builder
Need another pyramid
Build it, build it
Another pyramid
Build it, build it
We hate to depress the nation
But our leader has been told
He should scrub his next vacation
Even put tonight on hold
This is where his loyal priesthood
Has the chance to do him proud
Holy leaders at the least should
See him happy to his shroud
He must have a vault that's grand by
Any standards for to live
Put five thousand slaves on standby
Build another pyramid
song performed by by Sting
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Psalm 18 part 1
v.1-6,15-18
L. M.
Deliverance from despair.
Thee will I love, O Lord, my strength,
My rock, my tower, my high defence:
Thy mighty arm shall be my trust,
For I have found salvation thence.
Death, and the terrors of the grave,
Stood round me with their dismal shade;
While floods of high temptations rose,
And made my sinking soul afraid.
I saw the op'ning gates of hell,
With endless pains and sorrows there,
Which none but they that feel can tell;
While I was hurried to despair.
In my distress I called my God,
When I could scarce believe him mine:
He bowed his ear to my complaint,
Then did his grace appear divine.
With speed he flew to my relief,
As on a cherub's wing he rode;
Awful and bright as lightning shone
The face of my deliverer, God.
Temptations fled at his rebuke,
The blast of his almighty breath;
He sent salvation from on high,
And drew me from the deeps of death.
Great were my fears, my foes were great,
Much was their strength, and more their rage;
But Christ, my Lord, is conqueror still,
In all the wars that devils wage.
My song for ever shall record
That terrible, that joyful hour;
And give the glory to the Lord,
Due to his mercy and his power
poem by Isaac Watts
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Sonnet- Be Tolerant
The God-believer stops and thinks of God;
He folds his hands, repeating his God's name;
He prays when he's reminded of his Lord,
And for his sins, he bows his head in shame.
Let any man believe in any God;
The God-Believer's better than atheists,
And let him build anything for his Lord;
All men must be better than earthly beasts.
Let man worship in steeple, tower, dome;
And let him call it Church, Temple or Mosque;
And let man call God Allah, Jesus, Om!
All men are sinners, pardon, he must ask.
If man loves God, his neighbors, man must love;
By forgiving, the rest he gets above.
1-4-2002
poem by John Celes
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The Quiver Of Arrows
The quiver of arrows,
King of the watery deep to mix up with my muse;
Rose of Eros,
The flower of romance to attract me to your room;
Oh, insatiable and of the incontinence of desire!
But i am now resting at the Nile Delta.
Of the worm-eaten papyrus and the drinking of wine,
The Roman province of England is known to us;
And like leaders in the steps of Nimrod.
I am from among you and,
You are from among us;
But like Nebros and Nebrod with,
Nimrod and Babylon in mind!
In the land of Shinar,
And like the Egyptian Kings!
But i still have to learn to come closer to you,
For the quiver of arrows are seen all around us today.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Outsi De The Prison
outside
the birds are singing
the mountains crimson and bare
the fish-bones of the poplars
are hidden under the faded yellowish leaves
since sometime
a huge stork..patient and a hardworker
is gathering something from
the garbage-field
down there..to build her nest
when you look from here
the city seems empty and bare
the clock tower a little bit far and high
sruck eleven of the morning
all my optimism is full in me
and increasing and filling again
that never exhausted and finished yet
that is my peculiar, private treasure
ı hope and say and repeat stubbornly
we will soon be set free
ı stopped writing my letter
and I descended to the open strolling-hall
there is a magnificient sun outside..shining
oh...the lovely steppes..how I love and long for
you feel there as you are healing a bit a bit
a litle and a little
we talked about you and about this with our comrades
at this moment...to me
the world seems full of good fellows
but nevertheless the evening approaches and comes
İ n vain
we cannot help it
we cannot do anything about it
let it come
but ı am stiil hoping we will be set free very soon....
nazı m Hİ KMET RAN...
poem by Metin Sahin
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On a hillock outside the city
On a hillock outside the city
a monument build from marble and stone
guards forevermore,
catching the sun’s
rays one new day dutifully.
It tells true stories
of a nation’s struggle to survive and be free
from oppression and a great trek
across the veldt and over high mountains,
of vicious wild men
and the belief
in the creator God
who came to aid
to save from total annihilation
when they called on Him.
[Reference: Voortrekker monument just outside Pretoria.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Op ‘n koppie buite die stad
On a hillock outside the city
a monument build from marble and stone
guards forevermore,
catching the sun’s
rays one new day dutifully.
It tells true stories
of a nation’s struggle to survive and be free
from oppression and a great trek
across the veldt and over high mountains,
of vicious wild men
and the belief
in the creator God
who came to aid
to save from total annihilation
when they called on Him.
[Reference: Voortrekker monument just outside Pretoria.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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So High
(traditional - arranged by elvis presley)
Well, hes so high (so high you cant get over him)
So wide (so wide you cant get around him)
So low (so low you cant get under him)
Great God almighty (you must come in at the door)
Oh well, hes high (so high you cant get over him)
Hes wide (so wide you cant get around him)
So low (so low you cant get under him)
The mighty lamb (you must come in at the door)
Well I went down in the valley
You know I did over there ever stay
My soul got happy in the valley
You know I stayed right there all day
Well, hes high (so high you cant get over him)
And hes wide (so wide you cant get around him)
I know hes so low (so low you cant get under him)
The mighty lamb (you must come in at the door)
Well I aint been to heaven but im, Im told
The streets the streets are pearls
You know the mighty mighty
Mighty gates are gold
And hes high (so high you cant get over him)
So wide (so wide you cant get around him)
Hes so low (so low you cant get under him)
The mighty lamb (you must come in at the door)
Well, hes high (so high you cant get over him)
And hes wide (so wide you cant get around him)
I know hes so low (so low you cant get under him)
The mighty lamb (you must come in at the door)
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Into The Great Wide Open
Eddie waited till he finished high school
He went to hollywood, got a tattoo
He met a girl out there with a tattoo too
The future was wide open
They moved into a place they both could afford
He found a nightclub he could work at the door
She had a guitar and she taught him some chords
The sky was the limit
Into the great wide open,
Under them skies of blue
Out in the great wide open,
A rebel without a clue
The papers said ed always played from the heart
He got an agent and a roadie named bart
They made a record and it went in the charts
T he sky was the limit
His leather jacket had chains that would jingle
They both met movie stars, partied and mingled
Their a&r man said I dont hear a single
The future was wide open
Into the great wide open,
Under them skies of blue
Out in the great wide open,
A rebel without a clue
Into the great wide open,
Under them skies of blue
Into the great wide open,
A rebel without a clue
song performed by by Tom Petty
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bricks
When we were young,
we build our bricks
as solid as we can.
As one may crumble
we build another to replace,
and so it goes on,
until we are too old and tired
to build bricks anymore.
Then when they crumble,
our lives turn to dust,
ready to be blown away,
by the first strong wind,
to pass our way.
poem by David Harris
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The Road We're On
'It's all a road we build'
he said
'you lay down the concrete
or tar for the asphalt;
you heat it
and take it through all the stages
with yellow lines
white lines-
a road has to have
boundaries and destinations.
There are the road signs:
'caution'
'soft shoulder'
'curves ahead'
'pedestrians'
'stop ahead'
'divided highway.'
'no u-turns.'
'highway patrol station
The thought
is whether the road we build
is our own
and whether it leads where we
want to go
and who on the road
we're traveling with.
Just like life.
Up and down hills;
speed bumps
parking lots
long rides
The trick is not to be
a highway statistic
didn't see the stop sign
ran over too many pedestrians.
or a high speed causality
best to hope for soft shoulders
and broad lanes
and the laughter of friends
as the sun shines overhead
taking us
home.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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A Tower Name
The Lord’s name
Power name
A tower name
A strong name
And power-tower name
A strong tower, the name
A safe place, the name
Good in every situation, the name
Has unmatched power, the name
And a place of fortification, the name
When spiritually attacked, to the name run
When the past foibles clouds the mind, to the name run
When disappointed, to the name run
When failure cripples in, to the name run
And when tempted, to the name run
In the name, security
In the name, safety
In the name, peace
In the name, strong power
And in the name, a strong tower
A strong tower, strong refuge
A strong tower, stout defense
A strong tower, powerful protection
A strong tower, shield from the past
And a strong tower, enemy at bay to put
Whatever enemy offensive, call the name
Like Joseph, make a dash to the name
So portable, so wherever, the tower name
A refuge from doubt, selfishness, malice
And a shelter from slenderness, loneliness, envy and the like
So as the devil launches attack
A run to the tower name make
Call upon the power name
Stay in the power-tower
And watch him, sulking away
The Bible assures us: “The name of the Lord is a strong tower: the righteous runneth into it, and is safe” (Prov.18: 10, KJV) .
poem by Obed Akuma
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Babel
KNOW ye in ages past that tower
By human hands built strong and high?
Arch over arch, with magic power,
Rose proudly each successive hour,
To reach the happy sky.
It rose, till human pride was crushed--
Quick came the unexpected change;
A moment every tone was hushed,
And then again they freely gushed,
But sounded wild and strange.
Loud, quick, and clear, each voice was heard,
Calling for lime, and stone, and wood,
All uttered words--but not one word;
More than the carol of a bird,
Their fellows understood.
Is there no Babel but that one,
The storied tower of other days?--
Where, round the giant pile of stone,
Pausing they stood--their labour done,
To listen in amaze.
Fair springs the tower of hope and fame,
When all our life is fairy land;
Till, scarcely knowing what to blame,
Our fellows cease to feel the same--
We cease to understand.
Then, when they coldly smile to hear
The burning dreams of earlier days;
The rapid fall from hope to fear,
When eyes whose every glance was dear,
Seem changing as they gaze:
Then, when we feel 'twere vain to speak
Of fervent hopes--aspirings high--
Of thoughts for which all words are weak--
Of wild far dreams, wherein we seek
Knowledge of earth and sky:
Of communings with nature's God,
When impulse deep the soul hath moved--
Of tears which sink within the sod,
Where, mingling with the valley clod,
Lies something we have loved:
Then cometh ours;--and better theirs--
Of stranger tongues together brought,
Than that in which we all have shares,
A Babel in a world of cares--
Of feeling and of thought.
poem by Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton
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Tower Of London
Let me take you to trafalgar square
Let me take you there
Every streets a fashion catwalk
Everyones debonair
Let me take you to piccadilly
Guess it leads somewhere
Tower over centuries, tower over london
Tower up and frankly Im amazed
Whats done cannot be undone, not here not in london
Whats done can never be erased
So, tower up! - its those little things
Make life interesting- tower of london!
Tower up! - wasting time
Yours and mine - tower of london!
Hip london! hip london!
Let me take you to st.jamess square
Let me groove you there
Diplomats get target practice
In the open air
Psychobillies scream blue murder
Then they hit mayfair
Tower over centuries, tower over london
Tower up and frankly Im amazed
Whats done cannot be undone, not here not in london
Whats done can never be erased
So, tower up! - its those little things
Make life interesting- tower of london!
Tower up! - wasting time
Precious time - tower of london!
Tower up! Ill meet you there
Ill be there - tower of london
New york! - dont make me laugh
Ive seen photographs - tower of london...
song performed by by Abc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Paniolo Country
Places I have been,
cities I have seen,
with concrete caverns rising from the ground.
Miles and miles of asphalt trail,
stretch across a land,
stampeding meadow ponies leaving smoke along the way...
I'm going back to paniolo county,
stars at night
no city lights.
Paniolo country, my home on the range.
I made up my mind, won't waste any time
I'm going back to where the clouds ride high.
take my word its pretty, not like the great big city
the winds still bring cool clear mountian air.
I'm going back to paniolo country
rain drops fall, the grass grows tall
paniolo county, my home on the range.
song performed by by Randy Travis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Through Your Hands
You were dreamin
On a park bench
bout a broad highway somewhere
When the music from the carillon
Seemed to hurl your heart out there
Past the scientific darkness
Past the fireflies that float
To an angel bending down
To wrap you in his warmest coat
And you ask
What am I not doing
He says
Your voice cannot command
In time you will move mountains
And it will come through your hands
Still you argue for an option
Still you angle for your case
Like you wouldnt know a burning bush
If it blew up in your face
Yeah, we scheme about the future
And we dream about the past
When just a simple reaching out
Might build a bridge that lasts
And you ask
What am I not doing
He says
Your voice cannot command
In time you will move mountains
And it will come through your hands
Through your hands
So whatever your hands find to do
You must do with all your heart
There are thoughts enough
To blow mens minds
And tear great worlds apart
Theres a healing touch to find you
On that broad highway somewhere
To lift you high
As music flyin
Through the angels hair
Dont ask what you are not doing
Because your voice cannot command
In time we will move mountains
And it will come through your hands
song performed by by Don Henley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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