In The City Of Slaughter (excerpt)
Proceed thence to the ruins, the split walls reach,
Where wider grows the hollow, and greater grows the breach;
Pass over the shattered hearth, attain the broken wall
Whose burnt and barren brick, whose charred stones reveal
The open mouths of such wounds, that no mending
Shall ever mend, nor healing ever heal…
Terror floating near the rafters, terror
Against the walls in darkness hiding,
Terror through the silence sliding.
Didst thou not hear beneath the heap of wheels
A stirring of crushed limbs?
Much suffering and tribulation–tried
Which in this house of bondage binds itself.
It will not ever from its pain be pried.
Brief-weary and forespent, a dark Shekhinah
Runs to each nook and cannot find its rest;
Wishes to weep, but weeping does not come;
Would roar; is dumb….
poem by Hayyim Nahman Bialik
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Take The Hill Of Life
God's Mission: Take the Hill
As terror attempts to hold and paralyze us in fear,
We need to remember that as we got to the battle front that the Lord is always here.
He holds and guards us in the palm of his hand,
The Lord asks us spread is love, and is all he asks and does not demand.
While some accept Christ and some look at us with disbelief.
We need to get out from the Church walls and tell about his ongoing grief.
Yes, His grief and the reasons for it went the pain for his wounds.
Some might see His might see his Crucifixion as a way of having zounds.
We need to need to tell and explain what is written in the His word,
So let's get out and go on the battle front of and make sure that it is heard.
That He died for us and here in us is to set us free from this terror's bondage.
And He will forgive them for their worldly terror and rage,
As long as they as forgiveness and taken a bended knee.
Then they can truly see why Christ is alive in you and me
poem by Frank Pulver
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Walls
Walls of stone and walls of brick,
Some walls thin and some walls thick,
Walls so high and walls so low,
Walls to hide and walls to show.
Walls quite short and walls quite tall,
Some walls, last well, some walls fall,
Walls for comfort, walls of hate,
Walls for security, walls ornate.
Some as a barricade, some to support,
Walls of wood and walls of iron wrought,
Walls as a barrier, walls to enclose,
Some are to sit on, some to lean and doze.
Walls we build ourselves, these aren't good,
Walls for privacy, walls that have stood,
So many years through weather foul or fine,
Walls, that are yours, walls that are mine.
Brick by brick they are built to last,
Whether built now or in the past,
They shelter us from so many things,
And shield us from whatever this life brings.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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Psalm
You say
'be not afraid'
yet this darkness is
complete.
A well of silence lies
beneath my feet
as I try to feel
my way back to you.
How can I be brave
when all around me I hear
rivers of anguish, tears
over-flow life’s banks?
Terror fills the sky
in dark flashes
as my sight declines,
and endless night
encroaches on the edge
of vision.
Will you lift me
if I stumble
and fall?
Oh, call softly
and with seeing
fingers I'll find
your healing
hands again
poem by Steven Federle
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Shock And Terror
the psychotic dress the senseless feature
it terrifies every living creature
predictability is wearing thin
groundbreaking practice for the preacher
clowns mortified by my expression
breathing new life into invention
and gagging the maggots with a weary hand
has failed to leave any impression
the shock and terror keeps me sane
the shock and terror keeps me sane
does anybody feel the same?
the shock and terror keeps me sane
up now for seven days and wired
the concept of sleep is way too tired
and I've dialed in a plan to reinstate
your sense of humor has expired
the shock and terror keeps me sane
the shock and terror keeps me sane
does anybody feel the same?
the shock and terror keeps me sane
song performed by by Cky from Infiltrate - Destroy - Rebuild
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Vox Silentii
In screaming silence, minds will shatter
And bleed dry the terror of a thousand hearts;
In silence our minds will lock, will warp—
Silence will scream a thousand secrets
That we’ve kept dry, desolate, distressed
For as long as I’ve friended the shade.
And in simple silence sometimes I hear
The words that escape her deepest stores
Of thought, lie, hurt, regret—A fear,
In darkness will scratch the walls raw
With the tear-streaked terror that slits,
Scours, tearing down fatality, facade.
The others—smooth, are rough in thought,
Never brought, silenced in tracks they tread,
Words ringing their piercing shrieks,
Reverberating respites, snuffing silence,
And shunting the ones who hear, but listen,
Who know that talking is unnecessary.
They’ll never know, for they never listen,
Hearing the others in loquacious laughter,
But never listeing, truly, genuine sound,
The purest of sounds and spites,
The echoes and entrails of thought,
The sound of his eyes, of her silence.
poem by Adam Pinheiro
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Nothing, Nothing, Could be Clearer...
Abyss has never ventured nearer!
Horror, cloaked in tainted glass-
Reflecting terror, midnight’s mirror…
The stars convulse- vomit, wither!
Birdsong stops- shadows dance,
Abyss has never ventured nearer!
Reflecting terror, midnights mirror…
Shows my soul- writhing in a dark romance!
Nothing, Nothing, could be clearer…
No witchdoctor, nor faith healer
Could un-forge this fate flame-cast
Reflecting terror, midnights mirror…
I weep! In vain I beg beneath her!
While an envy looms above my past
Abyss has never ventured nearer!
Reflecting terror, midnight’s mirror…
…Nothing, Nothing, could be clearer.
poem by Lazarus Knix
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Suicide Bomber
A dark figure emerged from the hide,
Like a meteor, so suddenly appeared.
Jostling the crowd, he rushed forward,
None could check his reckless move.
Nobody knew from where he came,
What his intent, none could guess,
Flames of fury burnt his brain,
Fire of passion charged his heart,
His face looked taut with hate,
Every muscle throbbed to avenge,
His eyes appeared blind with gall,
A fiery rage drove him mad.
He didn’t care what would befall,
A trifle did he price his life,
The Time Bomb ticked within his pouch,
He speeded up to the Centre stage.
Before anyone could block his deed,
Before it could be cautioned alert,
He got blasted into pieces of flesh,
Blown apart his limbs and bones.
A deadening sound shook the Hall,
Sooty smoke filled the air,
A frightful tremor boomed along,
The walls crashed down in bits and blocks.
Charred bodies lay huddled over,
Dark gore spilled all around,
Shocked men took to heels,
Panic filled, terror struck.
News was flashed within seconds,
The nation grieves the death of its Premier.
A suicide bomber took off his life,
Along with him, a hundred perished.
They died for their country’s cause,
Brave Warriors, their absence sorely missed,
The nation observes a week’s mourning,
In sad remembrance of the departed ones.
Who shall mend the loss incurred?
How long will it take to heal the wound?
Are we to shatter the Nation’s dreams?
Should we allow the folks to fall apart?
Brutal it is to take up arms,
Ungodly it is to turn to spite,
Terror can never set things aright,
Love alone can warrant peace and bliss.
poem by Valsa George
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Surrounded By Evil
Surrounded by man’s evil ways, we head into much darker days,
With the world on a dark descent, ignoring all Truth God has sent.
Truth built upon a Righteousness, that dispels man’s wickedness,
God’s Truth, that sets men free, from the wickedness that we see.
Their evil terror is far from right, by forcing change by their might,
Having not one shade of love, from The Lord, who Reigns above.
Terror and oppression alone, is all they promote among their own,
Radically extreme is what they are, killing and hurting more by far.
They breed terror on every side, boasting over those who’ve died,
Thinking their dark killing spree, is instrumental in setting men free.
Leading men to bondage instead, led by those spiritually mislead.
Not only are these men not free, but shall be in bondage eternally.
This darkness that fills their mind, will be darker in the end of time,
For the thinking they perpetuate, is not out of love, but, from hate.
They terrorize in the name of God, men all across this earthly sod,
By distorting the Word of Truth, and will see God’s strong reproof.
Only in Christ can men be saved, from thinking that’s so depraved,
And only through the Truth of Christ, can men see the Light of Life,
All this darkness that we see friend, in God’s time shall see its end,
When Truth, who they despise, will bring on them, their own demise.
(Copyright ©09/2007)
His Writings On The Wall
when he was writing about
walls
he wrote the words on the walls
and they were arranged
like walls
from wall to wall his description
about the wall was
consistently like a wall
walling in all the walls
around the wall
where he was writing
consistently and
uniformly the word
wall, wall, wall, wall
and then nothing but a train of walls like this
wallwallwallwallwallwallwallwallwallw allwallwallwallwallwallwallwallwallwallwall
of course, he did notn add any smoke from steam engine
neither did he add any children and women and even men riding on the
train of walls
there was no driver even
or wheels
what he stressed was just a wall, a wall train, a wall nothing but a wall
walling him in
but what he really wanted at the end was something that should wall him out
something however that until now he is still trying to figure out
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Light And Dark Have Waned
seven people of light;
a walker of dark;
collect seven signs, are given
split thy light, dark thy rule
whom have dread, yet seven undismayed,
dare face his power
thy dark avows is terror,
to move from, to another
dark is terror still
their light and dark are no more,
just light no walker.
as having walker being passed
from servant of dark
to ruler of light.
the world now be it in peace
with no war and intervening d.ark
poem by Pugegee Phoenix
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Hello There
Hey how are you.....
Im just talking to the wall again there is nothing to do
wow this isnt glass *bang* what is this stuff
its worse then being in one hand cuff
to someone else u dont like
wow in this place there is no place to hike
i thought i was riding my bike
.....why am i talking to a wall
why is there even a wall here at all?
why am i here
where is here where is over there
what is time in this place
In this place im no photo taking ace....
wow erm hmmmm uh huh? what......
the walls r gone.....
someone is asking me if im ok
what can they saY?
what r they saying i cant hear
i cant hear you my dear....
am i still trapped.....
maybe between both worlds now
maybe the walls have always been there...
what is real
if i knew would it make me squeal
and scream with terror or is the truth
not uncouth
but is it filled with love and dotted with vicarious empathy?
what is the reality
is this life is this a rhyme....is this a poem what am i...human or so you say...
poem by David Knox
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Love
Love is a breach in the walls, a broken gate,
Where that comes in that shall not go again;
Love sells the proud heart's citadel to Fate.
They have known shame, who love unloved. Even then,
When two mouths, thirsty each for each, find slaking,
And agony's forgot, and hushed the crying
Of credulous hearts, in heaven - such are but taking
Their own poor dreams within their arms, and lying
Each in his lonely night, each with a ghost.
Some share that night. But they know love grows colder,
Grows false and dull, that was sweet lies at most.
Astonishment is no more in hand or shoulder,
But darkens, and dies out from kiss to kiss.
All this is love; and all love is but this.
poem by Rupert Brooke (1913)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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'Til A Tear Becomes A Rose (feat. Fiona Prine)
Darling, I can see the clouds around you
And in your heart I know a sorrow grows
But if you weep I'll be right here to hold you
'Til each tear you cry becomes a rose
Dearest love, I know your heart been shattered
And all my words can offer no relief
But my love will heal the pain you've suffered
And I'll be here if you should turn to me
I deepest night when memories tend to gather
Lay with me and put your fears to sleep
'Cause there's no pain no dream can put asunder
All the love that binds us you and me
Darling, I can see the clouds around you
And in your heart I know a sorrow grows
But if you weep I'll be right here to hold you
'Til each tear you cry becomes a rose
'Til each tear you cry becomes a rose
song performed by by John Prine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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til A Tear Becomes A Rose
Darling, I can see the clouds around you
And in your heart I know a sorrow grows
But if you weep Ill be right here to hold you
til each tear you cry becomes a rose
Dearest love, I know your heart been shattered
And all my words can offer no relief
But my love will heal the pain youve suffered
And Ill be here if you should turn to me
I deepest night when memories tend to gather
Lay with me and put your fears to sleep
cause theres no pain no dream can put asunder
All the love that binds us you and me
Darling, I can see the clouds around you
And in your heart I know a sorrow grows
But if you weep Ill be right here to hold you
til each tear you cry becomes a rose
til each tear you cry becomes a rose
song performed by by John Prine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dark
What will I do with a fountain
of time
my silence
is a well without a dropp of water
I can weep in the dark
weep and its silence will hear me
but it will close its eyes
it will not speak
the evening will tread on
quietly an old man
it will walk on without looking back
without seeing where its shadow
sleeps
and I can say wait where
are you going
and I can think of all the places I can think of
I can think of walls walls walls
of walls behind which anything lurks
I can lock myself
in a closet full of clothes not my size
fill my pockets with dust
or take off my clothes and imagine
my skin is ice
and I will be standing here
where I am standing stepping on moments
that sharpen into hours like thorns
into my feet
the wound in my heart is deep
the pain does not answer to any name
where is the door
the window the door
*reprinted from a friend
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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About Us......
our sensitivities
grow in a glass house
hardened
by incoming stones
who is afraid of the pieces
of broken glasses?
our wrists are experienced
sufferers
they heal themselves in
due time
we know what the word
endure means
by heart
we are devoured somehow
but still whole
in those vomits
do they find us bitter pills?
don't they know that we are the cure
of those unreasonable fears?
those stones turn out
to be marshmallows getting more
delicious looking
at the flames
on those cold evenings
beneath the
darkness in the forest
we eats stones
no longer afraid of indigestion
our guts
have kept the morning glories
glorious gods
with hardened walls
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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In The Underworld
I have lived in the underworld so long:
How can you, a creature of light,
Without terror understand the song
And unmoved hear what moves in night?
I am a spirit that yours has found,
Strange, undelightful, obscure,
Created by some other God, and bound
In terrible darkness, breathing breath impure.
Creature of light and happiness,
Deeper the darkness was when you,
With your bright terror eddying the distress,
Grazed the dark waves and shivering further flew.
poem by Isaac Rosenberg
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Walls Of Red Wing
Oh, the age of the inmates
I remember quite freely:
No younger than twelve,
No older n seventeen.
Thrown in like bandits
And cast off like criminals,
Inside the walls,
The walls of red wing.
From the dirty old mess hall
You march to the brick wall,
Too weary to talk
And too tired to sing.
Oh, its all afternoon
You remember your home town,
Inside the walls,
The walls of red wing.
Oh, the gates are cast iron
And the walls are barbed wire.
Stay far from the fence
With the lectricity sting.
And its keep down your head
And stay in your number,
Inside the walls,
The walls of red wing.
Oh, its fare thee well
To the deep hollow dungeon,
Farewell to the boardwalk
That takes you to the screen.
And farewell to the minutes
They threaten you with it,
Inside the walls,
The walls of red wing.
Its many a guard
That stands around smilin,
Holdin his club
Like he was a king.
Hopin to get you
Behind a wood pilin,
Inside the walls,
The walls of red wing.
The night aimed shadows
Through the crossbar windows,
And the wind punched hard
To make the wall-siding sing.
Its many a night I pretended to be a-sleepin,
Inside the walls,
The walls of red wing.
As the rain rattled heavy
On the bunk-house shingles,
And the sounds in the night,
They made my ears ring.
til the keys of the guards
Clicked the tune of the morning,
Inside the walls,
The walls of red wing.
Oh, some of usll end up
In st. cloud prison,
And some of usll wind up
To be lawyers and things,
And some of usll stand up
To meet you on your crossroads,
From inside the walls,
The walls of red wing.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Have You Experienced Inside A Wall Within A Wall Within A Wall?
i laugh since i broke a wall and i smile because finally i am free
and yet when i try to smile anew i find myself inside another wall again.
i break another wall again and again and again
but the walls keep walling me like i am its lover.
and finally i give up, i feel the walls too loving and caring for me.
and then i care for the walls and learn to love each corner
its thickness its soundless world
and then i tell the house where the walls are growing healthy,
i am glad about walls. They keep me secure. And then finally i said it for once.
the walls love me. and i love the walls since then.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Home For Love
Because the earth is vast and dark
And wet and cold;
Because man's heart wants warmth and light
Lest it grow old;
Therefore the house was built--wall, roof
And brick and beam,
By a lost hand following the lost
Delight of a dream,
And room and stair show how that hand
Groped in eager doubt,
With needless weight of teasing timber
Matching his thought--
Such fond superfluousness of strength
In wall and wood
As his half-wise, half-fearful eye
Deemed only good.
His brain he built into the house,
Laboured his bones;
He burnt his heart into the brick
And red hearth-stones.
It is his blood that makes the house
Still warm, safe, bright,
Honest as aim and eye and hand,
As clean, as light.
Because the earth is vast and dark
The house was built--
Now with another heart and fire
To be fulfilled.
poem by John Freeman
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