Ten Times Anoint
Ten times anoint
Reeds yield to the wind,
monotony of bright noons,
colored garland festoons,
in vast sky, disruptive tint.
Travel far, fare of calls,
paths hint a script roiled,
maybe your solitude toiled
on proud lands and slopes.
But it is blest and bright,
on incandescent courses,
as Northern wind forces,
your dancing feast alight;
Music accented to parade,
a sign your eyes beguiles,
historied on your air miles,
infinity's continuum blade;
it cuts only tears to shed,
winds reach the end point,
a photo is ten times anoint,
of your upheaval time wed;
Air lit wraith, high turmoil
floats to honor your values
diddling in wind light blue,
conducts your Siren's coil
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Vast Times And Vast Spaces
VAST TIMES AND VAST SPACES
Vast times and vast spaces
Preceded our being here
Vast times and vast spaces
Will be should we disappear-
Yet our hearts tell us
A revelation from God we be-
And wherever the Universe takes us
We’ll go on for Infinity.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Dink's Song
(b.gibson/b.lomax/j.lomax)
This is a blues traditional that has been performed also by bob dylan. jeff performed it several times in his concerts, and he performed it also live on-air for the music faucet, a wfmu radio broadcast, on october 11 1992.
If i had wings like noah's dove
I'd fly up the river to the one i love
Fare thee well, my honey, fare thee well
If i met your man, who was long and tall
I'd hit his body like a cannon ball
Fare thee well, my honey, fare thee well
One of these days and it won't be long
Call my name and i'll be gone
Fare thee well, my honey, fare thee well
I remember one night, a drizzling rain
Round my heart i felt an achin' pain
Fare thee well, oh honey, fare thee well
When i wore my apron low
Couldn't keep you from my do'
Fare thee well, my honey, fare thee well
Now i wear my apron high
Scarcely ever see you passing by
Fare thee well, my honey, fare thee well
Now my apron's up to my chin
You pass my door and you won't come in
Fare thee well, oh honey, fare thee well
If i had listened to what my mama said
I'd be at home in my mama's bed
Fare thee well, oh honey, fare thee well
song performed by by Jeff Buckley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Farewell
by Bob Dylan
Oh it's fare thee well my darlin' true,
I'm leavin' in the first hour of the morn.
I'm bound off for the bay of Mexico
Or maybe the coast of Californ.
So it's fare thee well my own true love,
We'll meet another day, another time.
It ain't the leavin'
That's a-grievin' me
But my true love who's bound to stay behind.
Oh the weather is against me and the wind blows hard
And the rain she's a-turnin' into hail.
I still might strike it lucky on a highway goin' west,
Though I'm travelin' on a path beaten trail.
So it's fare thee well my own true love,
We'll meet another day, another time.
It ain't the leavin'
That's a-grievin' me
But my true love who's bound to stay behind.
I will write you a letter from time to time,
As I'm ramblin' you can travel with me too.
With my head, my heart and my hands, my love,
I will send what I learn back home to you.
So it's fare thee well my own true love,
We'll meet another day, another time.
It ain't the leavin'
That's a-grievin' me
But my true love who's bound to stay behind.
I will tell you of the laughter and of troubles,
Be them somebody else's or my own.
With my hands in my pockets and my coat collar high,
I will travel unnoticed and unknown.
So it's fare thee well my own true love,
We'll meet another day, another time.
It ain't the leavin'
That's a-grievin' me
But my true love who's bound to stay behind.
I've heard tell of a town where I might as well be bound,
It's down around the old Mexican plains.
They say that the people are all friendly there
And all they ask of you is your name.
So it's fare thee well my own true love,
We'll meet another day, another time.
It ain't the leavin'
That's a-grievin' me
But my true love who's bound to stay behind.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Clary
Because of her soul, Fall was mild,
in hazy noons, light was extolling,
in green pasture souls were calling
she called me; and the sun smiled.
Upon the grass she sat on prairie,
one thousand rain drops of longing
and was her rainy smile imploring,
amidst flowers, daisies, and clary.
There our souls sing odes forever,
fly above Autumn calls of twenty;
we pretend the world 's not empty,
wind's blades our love won't sever.
Above the prairie fly white doves;
care to see her form amid flow'rs
and then as night adorns the stars,
consents our stares then, of loves.
Winds call me, from empty noons;
her soul sings and snow flakes toil,
flying leaves dance my siren's coil,
and wonder aimlessly in odd tunes.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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The tale of the sparkling white river
At the sparkling white river
that cuts its way through the earth,
some green reeds grew in bushes into the water.
Tranquillity and the magic
of water, sun and wind
was the spirit that dwelt in the reeds.
a Really ugly god appeared and started to cry,
as no beautiful nymph
would set an eye on him.
He washed his face in the water
to try and transfix some of its healing magic
to himself and washed his face again,
but the image reflected upon the gentle pool
remained the same
and deeper into the water he went.
Half blind by his crying,
he stumbled into the reeds
and walk still deeper in,
to hide away from the creatures
that lived upon the water
and dwelt in the sparkling stream.
There was power in his tears
and where they fell upon the reeds,
they were cut from the stems.
To Pan on that day,
the river and the reeds
came as a blessing.
With reeds in his hands
he walked to the shore
and the setting and sounds did something to him.
He cut the reeds into pipes
of different lengths
with notches and holes
and blew life in to them
and to this very day,
that instrument bears his name.
poem by Gert Strydom
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If you want to succeed you should strike out on new paths, rather than travel the worn paths of accepted success.
quote by John D. Rockefeller
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If you want to succeed you should strike out on new paths rather than travel the worn paths of accepted success.
quote by John D. Rockefeller
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What I Really Want
the whole truth comes to me
the vast continental ocean to my thirst
i don't just ask for light
i ask for the sun and the galaxy
i will give you a hint: the earth, the space,
a flight of birds V-shaped in the horizon
not just a wind, but the storm
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The house of envy lies in the lowest hollows, golden, sunless, breathed upon by no wind, grim and filled full of inert chill, and lacking warmth, is always roiled in fog.
By the Pool of the Third Rosses
I heard the sighing of the reed
In the grey pool in the green land,
The sea-wind in the long reeds sighing
Between the green hill and the sand.
I heard the sighing of the reeds
Day after day, night after night;
I heard the whirring wild ducks flying,
I saw the sea-gull's wheeling flight.
I heard the sighing of the reeds
Night after night, day after day,
And I forgot old age, and dying,
And youth that loves, and love's decay.
I heard the sighing of the reeds
At noontide and at evening,
And some old dream I had forgotten
I seemed to be remembering.
I hear the sighing of the reeds:
Is it in vain, is it in vain
That some old peace I had forgotten
Is crying to come back again?
poem by Arthur Symons
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There are too many leaders anointed because they have a public voice - television, radio, or record, or whatever. That even includes myself. In the past, I'd say, 'Don't anoint me when you can anoint yourself.'
The Valley Of Fear
In the journey of life, as we travel along
To the mystical goal that is hidden from sight,
You may stumble at times into Roadways of Wrong,
Not seeing the sign-board that points to the right.
Through caverns of sorrow your feet may be led,
Where the noon of the day will like midnight appear.
But no matter whither you wander or tread,
Keep out of the Valley of Fear.
The Roadways of Wrong will wind out into light
If you sit in the silence and ask for a Guide;
In the caverns of sorrow your soul gains its sight
Of beautiful vistas, ascending and wide.
In by-paths of worry and trouble and strife
Full many a bloom grows bedewed by a tear,
But wretched and arid and void of all life
Is the desolate Valley of Fear.
The Valley of Fear is a maddening maze
Of paths that wind on without exit or end,
From nowhere to nowhere lead all of its ways,
And shadows with shadows in more shadows blend.
Each guide-post is lettered, 'This way to Despair,'
And the River of Death in the darkness flows near,
But there is a beautiful Roadway of Prayer
This side of the Valley of Fear.
This beautiful Roadway is narrow and steep,
And it runs up the side of the Mountain of Faith.
You may not perceive it at first if you weep,
But it rises high over the River of Death.
Though the Roadway is narrow and dark at the base,
It widens ascending, and ever grows clear,
Till it shines at the top with the Light of God's face,
Far, far from the Valley of Fear.
When close to that Valley your footsteps shall fare,
Turn, turn to the Roadway of Prayer-
The beautiful Roadway of Prayer.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Where Will Their Greed Lead Them
Now that they've been smeared and jeered...
After what they did to the economy and the atmosphere.
Where will their greed lead them...
When they have been some of the most disruptive,
And destructive folks.
Where will they go?
Safe into some satisfaction...
Where honored crooks are freed to bestow,
Upon each other,
A sharing together...
Benefits reaped?
From deceiving and screwing up the lives,
Of over a million folks.
And counting.
Forced out of homes...
Where they will not find,
Neither peace of mind nor restful sleep.
When they have been some of the most disruptive,
And destructive...
Corrupted folks.
Where will they go?
'Sssshhh...
And you didn't hear this from me.
They've moved to Dubai'.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Tree Of Knowledge
I PLUCKED the blossoms of delight
In many a wood and many a field,
I made a garland fair and bright
As any gardens yield.
But when I sought the living tree
To make new earth and Heaven new,
I found--alas for you and me--
Its roots were set in you.
Oh, dear my garden, where the fruit
Of lovely knowledge sweetly springs,
How jealously you guard the root
Of all enlightening things!
poem by Edith Nesbit
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A Song For Candlemas
There’s never a rose upon the bush,
And never a bud on any tree;
In wood and field nor hint nor sign
Of one green thing for you or me.
Come in, come in, sweet love of mine,
And let the bitter weather be!
Coated with ice the garden wall;
The river reeds are stark and still;
The wind goes plunging to the sea,
And last week’s flakes the hollows fill.
Come in, come in, sweet love, to me,
And let the year blow as it will!
poem by Lizette Woodworth Reese
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Mask
Hope - twisted image seen through mental mask,
Accepted self-delusion counterfeit,
Perhaps to help man’s conscience counter fate,
Perhaps to tint the rainboy. Many ask
In disarray the question 'What joys last? '
Now, the Present - an elastic date, -
Extends until it snaps, while 'soon' is late.
So little time remains till we are 'Past'.
Some think themselves a mirage, say their task
Allotted compensating former state
Misguided - yet in times when troubles spate
A help for blind from foetus to the cask.
So though some cling to crutch, to token creeds,
Karmic beliefs as such seem broken reeds.
21 November 1991 revised 20 December 2006
robi03_0488_robi03_0000 ASX_DJZ
for previous version entitled Happiness a Mask see below
Happiness, - A Mask
Hope is a mirrored image of man's mask,
Arranged in manner often counterfeit, -
Perhaps to help his conscience counter fate,
Perhaps to tint the rainboy. Man may ask
In disarray the question 'What joys last? '
Now, - the Present - an elastic date,
Extends until it snaps, while 'soon' is late.
So little time remains till we are 'Past'.
Some think themselves a mirage, say a task
Allotted is to compensate their state -
Mistaken! - yet in times when troubles spate
A help for blind from foetus to the cask.
So though some need a token creed as crutch
Karmic beliefs seem broken reeds as such...
Acrostic sonnet Happiness a Mask
21 November 1991
© Jonathan Robin
poem by Jonathan Robin
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If you read my poem
If you read my poem
Thank you my friend
For suffering with me
Through the various
terrifying onslaught
of the ordeal of the
pain of searching for
The right perfect
word that meets the
Demands of the script
before me that makes
The poem scream to
want to be unchained
To be born as the bright
magic epic unforgettable
Little great masterpiece
that we both pray for it
To be the bright star
garlanded with the beauty
We lovingly anticipate it
with anxious love to greet
The rising sun as the new
sparkling star to be added
To our vast collection of
our star studded collection
poem by Ngaka Motaung
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The Film Of My Love
Co-starring you
And co-starring me
Starring us both together
The film of my love
Will travel the world
Forever and ever and ever
A back lot romance
A scripted affair
The screenplay a blessing from heaven
Were gone with the wind
On the orient express
To join the magnificent seven
The film of my love
Will travel the world
And travel the whole world over
The film of my love
Will travel the world
Over and over and over
The film of my love
Will travel the world
Over and over and over
Over and over and over again
Over and over and over
A close-up of yours
A long shot of mine
Superimposed together
Ill zoom in on you
With a love that is true
In cinemascope forever
A clapper board kiss
Theres an oscar in this
A hit or a miss whatever
A box office wedding
A premier for two
Well be on location forever
When pathe recall
The thrill of it all
Theyll edit us both together
A legend a classic
An epic of love
Captured on film forever
A lasting embrace
That time cant erase
Let them censor the wind
Or the weather
The film of my love
Will conquer the world
Forever and ever and ever
The film of my love
Will travel the world
And travel the whole world over
The film of my love
Will travel the world
Over and over and over
The film of my love
Will travel the world
Over and over and over
Over and over and over again
Over and over and over
Over and over and over
song performed by by 10 Cc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Of Sardanapalus's Dishonorable Life And Miserable Death.
TH' Assyrian king, in peace, with foul desire
And filthy lusts that stain'd his regal heart ;
In war, that should set princely hearts on fire,
Did yield vanquisht for want of martial art.
The dint of swords from kisses seemed strange ;
And harder than his lady's side, his targe : 1
From glutton feasts to soldier's fare, a change ;
His helmet, far above a garland's charge :
Who scarce the name of manhood did retain,
Drenched in sloth and womanish delight.
Feeble of spirit, impatient of pain,
When he had lost his honour, and his right,
(Proud time of wealth, in storms appalled with dread,)
Murder'd himself, to shew some manful deed.
poem by Henry Howard
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Psalms In Poetry - Chapter 23
1 I lack nothing as Yahweh’s my Shepherd!
2 He lets me lie on grass meadows;
To tranquil streams, He leads me by
3 Restoring my spirit that’s low;
In paths of saving justice that
Befit His name, He guides me well.
4 I shall not fear even to walk
In ravines deep and dark as death,
For, You are at my side always;
Your staff and crook are there to soothe;
5 Before the eyes of all my foes,
You set my table well-prepared;
With oil, you anoint my head too;
My cup is full and overflows.
6 Your faithful love and kindness both
Pursue me every day in life;
I make my home in Yahweh’s house
For times to come – eternally!
poem by John Celes
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