Two Towers Lie As Rubble
Two towers lie as rubble:
the television news proclaims it,
aircraft has flown into them
broken obtuse, collapsed.
There are smoke, flames and dust
and somewhere something exploding.
Twisted, scorched steel
is pointed against the earth, cut off
where building was near to the heavens
there are only rubble, pieces of concrete and ash.
Defenceless people have been killed without reason,
as if the human race has lost its sanity,
shattered, crushed, burnt
made from sand to sand.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Related quotes
The clock of communism has stopped striking. But its concrete building has not yet come crashing down. For that reason, instead of freeing ourselves, we must try to save ourselves from being crushed by its rubble.
quote by Alexander Solzhenitsyn
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Jump To Heaven
Hijacked planes flown into, for terror attack;
A heart shrilling scene, impossible to forget:
the view of smoking and blazing towers;
rising from both sides, flames of the fire.
Stood aghast watching buildings burn;
People disbelieved, shrieked and stunned.
Some people trapped on the floors of upper,
towers collapsed, sending plume of dust into air.
Many chose to jump instead of dying from fire
Sky looked raining human rather than water;
Though they knew the path they had chosen
Was also leading via earth to the same heaven.
poem by S.D. Tiwari
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Since I Lost You
It seems in a moment, your whole world can shatter
Like morning dreams they just disappear
Like dust in your hand falling to the floor
How can life ever be the same
Cos my heart is broken in pieces
Yes my heart is broken in pieces
Since youve been gone
Its all too easy to take so much for granted
Oh but its so hard to find the words to say
Like a castle in the sand the water takes away
But how can life ever be the same
Cos my heart is broken in pieces
Yes my heart is broken in pieces
Since Ive lost you
Oh now youll never see
Oh youll never know
All the things I planned for you
Things for you and me
Held your hand so tightly
That I couldnt let it go
Now how can life ever be the same
Cos my heart is broken in pieces
Yes my heart is broken in pieces
Since youve been gone
Cos my heart is broken in pieces
Yes my heart is broken in pieces
Since Ive lost you
Cos my heart is broken in pieces
Yes my heart is broken in pieces
Since youve been gone
song performed by by Genesis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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23feb Which Is Worst?
no sleep
as many
so many
aftashocks
and strong
6 areas in cbd
Christchurch
Borough District
where people
still trapped
await fear what?
which is worst?
screams chill
agony
buried in rubble
bone broken
limbs torn
dust fear chokes
survivors
pinned alive
injury torment
or silence
where staff
make no sound
sandwiches
building
domino layers
slowly precisely
kiwi men
hand pick rubble
without pause delay
through aftashocks
rescue resolute mind set
screams still heard
mind shudder echoes
in ebb silence aftermath
poem by Terence George Craddock
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An Alien Place
Our scorched earth erupts into belligerent flames,
Fanned by the wind, they sweep very fast down the plain,
They seem to delight, in their playing of these games,
When blue skies can deliver no deluge of rain.
Burnt down and blackened, all the tree trunks stand stark,
Leaving this wide landscape like an alien place,
Smoke billowing, the harsh flames start licking the bark,
Like huge hungry tongues that fear forfeiting the race.
Hastening onwards, with a strong wild winning urge,
With impetus, flora and fauna devouring,
Stripping the land bare, as it starts on its mad surge,
This fire, that has come to be so overpowering.
These flames ever feeding, engulf at such a speed,
Everything in their wake, is now changed into dust,
But from this devastation, each tiny new seed,
Will shoot new once again from this earth's ravaged crust.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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Broken Mirror
A mirror accidently got
broken,
Shattered into hundreds
of pieces.
crying:
Looking for one single
fragment
Lost forever,
In the shilting desert
sand.
poem by Heather Burns
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Brimstone... ' (or A Cryptic-Cremation)
Ashes to Ashes
Dust to Dust
Flesh and Blood
Wood and Mud
Sun and Moon
Craters and Crust
Flames to Ashes
Smoke to Dust
Ape and Man
Heart and Brain
Glass and Sand
Abel and Cain
Spend this Space
On this Earth
Cutting Down
Another’s Worth
So Much Hate
On World and Planet
Trying to Paint
And Stain Pearls and Granite
‘Til, Ashes to Ashes
Dust to Dust
Stop Thinking, ’ Iron Them ’
Start Thinking, ‘ Wash Us ’
Fire On Mountain
Flows Volcanic Ash
Fire and Sand
Equals House of Glass
Dirt On Fire
Smother ‘Fore Long
And Fire and Rock
Equals Brimstone
poem by MoonBee Canady
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September 2001
There are times
that always stays with you
and I remember a day
that I stood
with a cool drink
and a bible in my hand
when I saw in a religious book shop
on CNN
how two aircraft
short after each other
go right through the Twin Towers
and flames and smoke
burst out of both buildings.
Unbelief, perplexion, shock
and the knowledge that it’s murder
and a chaotic terrorist deed
hit me like thunder strokes
and I am sorry for the innocent people
that has no opportunity to escape
and I wonder where have humanity gone
and stand glued at the television set
and know that a unstoppable war
is going to arise out of these events
and that more innocent people are going to die.
poem by Gert Strydom
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How spiny the cactus raised itself
how spiny the cactus raised itself
into the desert
how red the sand
burnt under the mid-day sun
how scorched the scorpion moved
across the red sand
and in that silence
a sudden whirlwind blows
a red, red cloud of sand
from the dunes rises
how spiny the cactus raised itself
into the tempest:
and yet
and yet
the tempest was subdued and fell
as happened long ago and now
and still
and spiny the cactus raises itself
into the desert
and the red sand
burns under the mid-day sun
poem by Emmanuel George Cefai
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Skeletons
Between yellow cranes groaning and bended
I saw people small as ants,
I saw people gather at skeletons of steel and concrete,
lost between ovens that cook glowing,
between hell-hot fires of iron and metal
I saw people struggle in the dusk
and this morning I came
past huge, long pipes that hiss like snakes
between yellow cranes groaning and bended.
Where white smoke are stoked through round chimneys
people were trapped and caged
between hell-hot fires of iron and metal
busy with their work as if dumb,
as if only machines with their humanity missing
I saw people gather at skeletons of steel and concrete,
through walls, doors and roofs that block off
lost in the circles that the city draws,
people were trapped and caged
with crying, screaming, gnashing machines everywhere
without any natural refreshment or relief
between yellow cranes groaning and bended
with tiredness, disconcert, alienation on every feature
they kept building
lost in the circles that the city draws.
Like beings coming from another planet,
ghosts just waiting for a coffin,
I saw people gather at skeletons of steel and concrete,
while some were clinging to black pipes
and children were laughing without concern
they kept building
on terrains with danger signs on the outside
without worrying, with there destiny determined.
Between yellow cranes groaning and bended
I saw people gather at skeletons of steel and concrete,
with their lives tinned, day and night
lost between ovens that cook glowing
and children were laughing without concern,
I saw people struggle in the dusk.
[Reference: Past skeletons of steel and concrete by Gert Strydom.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Peace At Last
Another rocket, another bomb issuing yet more smoke
Buildings falling, dust and rubble, shield your face or choke
More incendiaries that heat the earth
The family of man have no value of life and it's worth
Populations expand, more mouths to feed
Less and less land and it produces more weed
At a time in the future when we are all gone
The earth will sigh and say "thankfully that's all done".
poem by Brian Roy Skyers
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A Thought Forgotten
rain swept branches strewn,
small testaments of living.
frail egos broken
in morning sunlit pieces.
of such is life...
hands made of flesh
building hearts.
storms come unannounced,
and forever shattered.
the rain soaks the embers,
a thin wisp of smoke.
stirred by the stick of time,
praying for flame.
are we then fire,
or just smoke?
smalls branches clinging
to the tree...
lightning in the distance,
or hearts made of thunder?
buds on the broken branch,
or the fleeting instant
of the storm's fury?
all of these, or something else,
or a thought forgotten
by a lonesome God?
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Indra
DOWN to the sand-covered earth.
Straw from the harvested fields soiled our feet;
Dust from the high-roads,
Smoke from the cities,
Foul-smelling breaths,
Fumes from cellars and kitchens,
All we endured.
Then to the open sea we fled,
Filling our lungs with air,
Shaking our wings,
And laving our feet.
Indra, Lord of the Heavens,
Hear us!
Hear our sighing!
Unclean is the earth;
Evil is life;
Neither good nor bad
Can men be deemed.
As they can, they live,
One day at a time.
Sons of dust, through dust they journey;
Born out of dust, to dust they return.
Given they were, for trudging,
Feet, not wings for flying.
Dusty they grow--
Lies the fault then with them,
Or with Thee?
poem by August Strindberg
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The Young Farmer
The young farmer is not dead
the earth that loves him, still remembers him,
where his young wife was raped by barbarians
and his small toddler daughter as well
where his farm house has been burned down to rubble
and is still smoking after the mad plundering
he lies half scorched, his face distorted
and who will be able to bring some justice here?
The farmer lifts his fists against the wind,
stand against the horizon somewhat blinded,
searches perplexed for missing answers
tries to find a judgement form God
and the wind turns dust up from the red ground,
even the earth is wounded.
poem by Gert Strydom
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In the city
As a child in the afternoons
I walked home
barefoot along a sand road
with a short sleeved shirt and short pants
and the red brown sand
burnt my feet
but the air was bright blue,
I smelled the Lucerne of the field,
sometimes took a short cut through the stream,
birdcalls were like music
and the whole world belonged to me
and in everything
I could see the Lord’s works
and knew that I was serving
a loving Father.
l’Envoi
Now I walk with hand made shoes
in a designer suit
on concrete streets
from my car to the lift
then on thick carpets
to my office
and in the background
I can hear the air conditioner
and somewhere life
has lost its soul.
poem by Gert Strydom
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I became comfortable with what I knew would be the process of trying to pick up the pieces of brain that were in the rubble and tried to make some mosaic out of the pieces and that that would be the trajectory.
quote by Art Spiegelman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sand On My Shoes
As I sit by the sea
Drink tequila by the shade of a tree
Theres a seniorita sat on my knee
Sprinkling sand all over me
Ive got sand on my shoes
Ive lost everything that Im gonna lose
Ive got nothing but the sun and the moon
And the sand thats on the beach
I am happy though my shoes are tattered and torn
Because the sea is so shiney
Ba ba-um-ba
Ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba-um-ba
Ive got sand on my shoes
Thought I was civilized
Till I saw the sea and I realized
That the city life was just not for me
Left my troubles behind me
Ba ba-um-ba
Ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba-um-ba
Ive got sand on my shoes
Ive got nothing else that Im gonna lose
Ive got nothing but the sun and the moon
And thats plenty for me
Ive got sand on my shoes
Ive got sand on my shoes
Ive got sand on my shoes
Sand on my shoes
Ba ba ba ba-um-ba
Ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba-um-ba
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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in Oil we trust...
Concrete claws challenge the sky
Sacred stairs towards a glazed heaven.
Glass and steel that shimmers
Like statues of gods standing high.
Black liquor leached from nearby sand
To quench the parched prayers of bankers
The earth’s entrails full of hell’s holes
That smote deep gashes across arid land
We worship this iconoclastic creation.
But these aren’t built solid on rock
But are parables of straw on desert sand,
An idolatry of oil production.
Comes the storm and the clouds turn dark
When financial ashes blows across
There’s no comfort in Fibonacci charts
No salvation in a concrete ark
April 2010
September 11th
I remember so clearly what happened that day.
For the people there nothing went their way.
I was at school and seen it on tv.
It made me sad to see.
I seen that a plane was in the first tower.
Then I watched the other fly through within the hour.
We didn't get to see everything that went on,
but we knew enough to know that the towers were gone.
I saw them collapse till nothing but rubble was left,
and to see all the commotion I could have wept.
I'm so glad my family was here at home,
but felt pain for the people who's family was gone.
I'll probably never forget that day, and I'll never take
living for granted
cause a tragedy like on that day can happen anytime on this planet.
poem by Heather Noble
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Pacific ocean love pt.2
I went to the ocean
for a day
the waves and the sand
kept melancholy at bay
soaking and burning
in this salt
water pot
cleansing my soul
when God would not
my life
in pieces
scattered across
a barren land
I was baptized
in the Ocean
where the heavens
meet the sand
poem by Bryan Alexander
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