Tribute to Thomas Campbell 1777-1804
On Linden when the sun was low.
All bloodless lay the untrodden snow
and dark as winter was the flow
of Iser rolling rapidly.
Thomas Campbell
1777-1804.
On Linden when the sun was low.
On a dark day long, long ago.
Before combatants struck a blow
the scene was all serenity.
All bloodless lay the untrodden snow.
It’s pristine whitenesss soon to go
when scarlet blood began to flow.
as warriors fought the enemy.
And dark as winter was the flow
of hatreds milling to and fro
each soldiers sought to kill his foe
with casual ferocity.
Of Iser rolling rapidly
though stained by blood from the melee
there’s little said. It’s plain to me
it ignores mans stupidity.
7-Feb-08
Glosa
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Hohenlinden
On Linden when the sun was low,
All bloodless lay the untrodden snow,
And dark as winter was the flow
Of Iser, rolling rapidly.
But Linden saw another sight
When the drum beat, at dead of night,
Commanding fires of death to light
The darkness of her scenery.
By torch and trumpet fast arrayed
Each horseman drew his battle blade,
And furious every charger neighed,
To join the dreadful revelry.
Then shook the hills with thunder riven,
Then rushed the steed to battle driven,
And louder than the bolts of heaven
Far flashed the red artillery.
And redder yet those fires shall glow
On Linden's hills of blood-stained snow,
And darker yet shall be the flow
Of Iser, rolling rapidly.
'Tis morn, but scarce yon lurid sun
Can pierce the war-clouds, rolling dun,
Where furious Frank and fiery Hun
Shout in their sulphurous canopy.
The combat deepens. On, ye brave,
Who rush to glory, or the grave!
Wave, Munich, all thy banners wave!
And charge with all thy chivalry!
Ah! few shall part where many meet!
The snow shall be their winding-sheet,
And every turf beneath their feet
Shall be a soldier's sepulchre.
poem by Thomas Campbell
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Rollin' with the Flow
Once was a thought inside my head
Before I'd reach thirty I'd be dead
Now somehow on and on I go
I keep on rolling with the flow
Folks said that I would change my mind
I'd straighten up and do just fine
Ahh, but I still love rock and roll
I keep on rolling with the flow
While guys my age are raising kids
I'm raising hell just like I did
I've got a lot of crazy friends
And they forgive me of my sins
Some might be calling me a bum
But I'm still out there having fun
And Jesus loves me, yes, I know
So, I keep on rolling with the flow
(Keep on rolling with the flow)
While guys my age are raising kids
But I'm raising hell just like I did
I've got a lot of crazy friends
And they forgive me of my sins
Can't take it with you when you're gone
But I want enough to get there on
And I ain't ever growing old
So, I keep on rolling with the flow
(Keep on rolling with the flow)
I ain't ever growing old
If I keep on rolling with the flow
(Keep on rolling, keep on rolling)
Keep on rolling with the flow
(Keep on rolling, keep on rolling)
Keep on rolling with the flow
(Keep on rolling, keep on rolling)
song performed by by Charlie Rich, lyrics by Jerry Hayes from Rollin' with the Flow (May 1977)
Submitted by Jeffrey Kosloske
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Dark Winter Blues
The darkness of winter in some parts of the world,
The blues that it brings to make them sick;
But who is able to challenge nature?
Dark winter blues,
From the middle of November to the end of January;
There our hopes lied so low in the North of the Arctic Circle.
Dark winter blues,
To endure the long dark nights of the Arctic winter;
With pastel shades of blue and violet wrapped in the snow.
Snow ballls,
Snow falls;
The dark winter does have negative effects on some people,
But the earth will keep on moving.
Wrapped in the cold of the snow,
With seasonal moods from the winter blues;
But this sadness of winter cannot be wiped away so easily.
There is no place to escape to with this claustrophobic,
But it is a matter of patience to push the days away;
And the orbit of the earth is all that makes the difference.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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My American Flag
Flag of the brave
Victory's only passage
With the Azure night
The dash of the fire ablaze
The stripe of pearly snow
Smybol of a victory
America's Victory
Soldiers true and brave
Trudging in the winter snow
Through the dark, hidden passage
The single, small fire ablaze
For I am of the dark night
Yet in my night:
I cry for victory,
I set my enemies ablaze,
For I am of the Brave
Within the hidden passage
The wind, the rain, the snow
Of the Sea, of the snow
Or hiding in the dark, cool night
Within every passage
In glorious victory
The symbol of the strong and brave
My fire within is ablaze
A Torch ablaze
The flash of falling snow
The strong and brave
In the night
Fighting for victory
leaving the passage
Victory has found a passage
The town is ablaze
Today is the victory
In the winter snow
The battle won this night
The shed blood of the brave
With the brave, in the passage
In the night, of the fire
Trudging in the snow, I won the victory
poem by Maria Robbins
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I Need Thee Every Hour / Nothing But The Blood
(Duet with Vince Gill)
(Amy)
I need Thee every hour, most gracious Lord;
No tender voice like Thine can peace afford.
I need Thee, O I need Thee;
Every hour I need Thee;
O bless me now, my Savior,
I come to Thee.
(Amy)
What can wash away my sin?
(Amy and Vince)
Nothing but the blood of Jesus;
(Vince)
What can make me whole again?
(Amy and Vince)
Nothing but the blood of Jesus.
(Amy Vince and background vocals)
Oh! Precious is the flow
That makes me white as snow;
No other fount I know,
Nothing but the blood of Jesus.
(Amy)
For my pardon, this I see,
(Amy and Vince)
Nothing but the blood of Jesus;
(Vince)
For my cleansing, this my plea,
(Amy and Vince)
Nothing but the blood of Jesus.
(Amy Vince and background vocals)
Oh! Precious is the flow
That makes me white as snow;
No other fount I know,
Nothing but the blood of Jesus.
Oh! Precious is the flow
That makes me white as snow;
No other fount I know,
Nothing but the blood of Jesus.
Oh! Precious is the flow
That makes me white as snow;
No other fount I know,
Nothing but the blood of Jesus.
song performed by by Amy Grant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ink Is My Blood
I am a poet.
There is ink in my blood.
I flow through lines
As a river meandering its course.
My blood is ink,
Ink is my blood.
I give life to the depressed
I flow to educate
I flow to enlighten
I meander to caution
I wriggle to chastise
I correct ills in the lands
I flow beyond borders
I flow through out the world.
My ink flows ceaselessly after my departure
It flows to the land I never tread
My ink is my life.
My ink may look ordinary
But it is a potent force.
My ink does not faint
My ink is my blood
So, enjoy the drops of my blood
poem by Babatunde Aremu
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Song Of The Evergreens
Listen to the briskly whistling winter evergreen
Whispering through the frozen morning light
And tell me whats to come
Saying my time is near
Never fear
I close each year
Im winter
Reminding me to trade my t-shirts for my woven wools
Trade my sandals for my skis
Whispered warnings in the wind
Saying soon come the dancing snowflakes
Theyre kissing every tree
Theyre kissing you and me
Please hurry
Falling
Dazzling dancing diamonds from the sky
Prisms
Rainbow sparkled flurries in our eyes
Whipping across the frozen crystal meadow
Pond of ice
Race the snow
Well build a warming fire there
And cuddle close and wine and dine
The setting sun
The morning light will find us high
Shooting down the glistening mountain side
Screaming through the whispering pines
The freedom of each day
Will cleanse our minds
I can hardly wait for winter
I can hardly wait for the snow
I can hardly hardly wait for winter
I can hardly wait for the snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
song performed by by Chicago
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Blood Flow
Brother brawl brother
Blood flow
Sister sinister sister
Blood flow
Pals plan pals
Blood flow
Sect set sect
Blood flow
Nation nag nation
Blood flow
Blood shed each day
Outstream water of pacific ocean
poem by Alade Abayomi IdrisWhite
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Your Blood Seeping Through the New Blood Flow
The razor is the one that cuts the wrists
Drawing blood with every slit
The razor is the one that makes anger let go
Your blood seeping through the new blood flow
The gun is the one that takes your pain
Leaving loved ones and some shame
The gun is the one that lets life go
Your blood seeping through the new blood flow
The pills are the ones that cause endings
Swallowing twenty without pretending
No life left leaking when you swallow
Your blood seeping through the new blood flow
Suicide is your way of giving up
Because you think your life's bankrupt
Suicide your way of letting go
Your blood seeping through the new blood flow
poem by Free Faller
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My Orcha'd In Linden Lea
'Ithin the woodlands, flow'ry gleaded,
By the woak tree's mossy moot,
The sheenen grass-bleades, timber-sheaded,
Now do quiver under voot;
An' birds do whissle over head,
An' water's bubblen in its bed,
An' there vor me the apple tree
Do lean down low in Linden Lea.
When leaves that leately wer a-springen
Now do feade 'ithin the copse,
An' painted birds do hush their zingen
Up upon the timber's tops;
An' brown-leav'd fruit's a-turnen red,
In cloudless zunsheen, over head,
Wi' fruit vor me, the apple tree
Do lean down low in Linden Lea.
Let other vo'k meake money vaster
In the air o' dark-room'd towns,
I don't dread a peevish measter;
Though noo man do heed my frowns,
I be free to goo abrode,
Or teake agean my hwomeward road
To where, vor me, the apple tree
Do lean down low in Linden Lea.
poem by Ingeborg Bachmann
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Long Twin Silver Line
Words and music by bob seger
Well the big train keeps on rolling
Rolling on down the track
And the way shes moving buddy
I dont believe shes a-coming back
The firemans smoking a big cigar
Sipping lafite rothschild bordeaux
And the engineers so happy
Hes just a-letting that whistle blow
She keeps a-rolling
She keeps a-rolling
She keeps a-rolling on proud and fine
She keeps a-rolling
She keeps a-rolling
Down that long twin silver line
Well she just blazed through chicago
Nonstop to l.a.
And the way shes steaming buddy
You better not get in her way
Shes got the finest fastest pulling twin diesels
Shes got ninety three cars in tow
Shes gonna be on time
All the way down the line
Come the rain hail sleet or snow
She keeps a-rolling
She keeps a-rolling
She keeps a-rolling on right on time
She keeps a-rolling
She keeps a-rolling
Down that long twin silver line
Rolling on down the line
And she just passed in chicago
Rolling into kansas too
Rolling into denver
Doing all shell do
And she hangs a big left in salt lake city
Southwest to the nevada line
Rolling into california
Right on time
Rolling on down the line
song performed by by Bob Seger
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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New York Winter Mornings
New York winter mornings,
bitter, dark, wet.
I trudge through the snow,
my collar turned to the cold and damp.
A lock of hair peeks out of my hat, and dances with the wind,
I shove it back in, and struggle on.
Children play in the snow, throwing snowballs at each other,
laughing, skipping, their cheeks flushed.
I look up at the skyline,
The Empire State Building standing strong,
dark against the grey sky.
I get to my apartment,
stamp the snow from my boots and unlock the door,
hang up my coat.
I look out of the window, the snow is falling again.
Weather report says there's more on the way.
A New York winter morning.
poem by Zaila Ayre
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Soldier (not really a poem)
the american revolution was fought witha new breed of soldier.
this country was founded on that soldier.
that soldier is the one that those on the front lines calls the coward
that soldier is the one that those on the front lines call when they need help
because these soldiers dont miss.
these soldiers are trained harder than the most elite frontline man
these soldiers are tought to kill their enemy before there enemy sees them.
these soldiers are the ghosts in the night,
these soldiers are the wind in the day
these soldiers are everywhere.
these soldiers are the bush next to u.
these soldiers are the the tree across the field.
these soldiers are the lump of snow in the flat plain.
these soldiers are snipers.
snipers are the reason we are free.
snipers stop the enemy before the enemy gets close to u,
poem by Joshua Decker
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My Orcha'd in Linden Lea
'Ithin the woodlands, flow'ry gleaded,
By the woak tree's mossy moot,
The sheenen grass bleades, timber-sheaded,
Now do quiver under voot;
An' birds do whissle auver head,
An' water's bubblen in its bed,
An' ther vor me the apple tree
Do lean down low in Linden Lea.
When leaves that leately wer a-springen
Now do feade 'ithin the copse,
An' painted birds do hush ther zingen
Up upon the timber's tops;
An' brown-leav'd fruit's a-turnen red,
In cloudless zunsheen, auver head,
Wi' fruit vor me the apple tree
Do lean down low in Linden Lea.
Let other vo'k meake money vaster
In the air o' dark-room'd towns,
I don't dread a peevish measter;
Though noo man do heed my frowns,
I be free to goo abrode,
Or teake agean my hwomeward road
To where vor me the apple tree
Do lean down low in Linden Lea.
poem by William Barnes
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A Winter Message
A flake of snow in flurry thro’ the air
Had landed as a kiss upon my cheek:
A secret message, just for me to share;
To take to heart but never dare to speak
About or presuppose to other eyes
Your open feelings – distant though they are.
And so, upon your lips, my OWN surprise:
A flake of snow returned from me afar.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
winter winter winter winter icy winter
winter winter winter winter icy winter
winter winter winter winter icy winter
winter winter winter winter icy winter
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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The Winter
The misty snow,
and the dew drops.
As the snow falls,
my hot coffee pops.
The leaves are dry,
and I do cry.
My garden blows,
and my tears flow.
With cold and coughs,
my time is tough.
Doctor-Doctor do we run
and then there is no fun.
To go to school,
feels like a fool.
Its good to sleep,
and in the rug i creep.
Jersey and Jacket, Socks and caps,
are my winter pairs.
With them I have a nap,
and they are my winter cares.
Pizzas, Wraps and Biscuits,
are my winter bakes.
Hot chocolate, Milo and coffee,
are my winter shakes.
The room is warm,
as firewood is on.
The room is calm,
as music is on.
And the winter goes on and on.
poem by Anju Addanki
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Anne of Snow
Unalterable she is, my Anne of snow;
Of winter laughs and aves in modes of white;
Her love conceivable and face to glow.
For always feeling of her mirth and flow;
Orison's company betimes forthright;
Unalterable she is, my Anne of snow.
What is important to keep tight, and stow
Ghost nuptial forms of Sunday's blue shore bight,
Her love conceivable and face to glow.
In silence comes, snow's pure to bestow;
my winter's sole adviser dreams benight;
Unalterable she is, my Anne of snow.
White blanket to descend, a silent flow;
The sovereign of woods, in wordless rite;
Her love conceivable and face to glow.
Retention of her intellect to show,
Perceptual is her entity and plight;
Unalterable she is, my Anne of snow;
Her love conceivable and face to glow.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Through Falling, Falling Snow
As from my frozen window pane
I looked upon that winter's day,
The snow was drifting deep and crisp
And skies were darkest grey,
I did not wish to leave the warmth
Of home but knew I had to go,
And walk towards those factory gates
Through falling, falling snow.
I headed down those empty streets
Within the early morning light,
So hard each step I had to take
Through all life's bitter spite,
I longed to be back home again
As freezing winds did cruelly blow,
But headed to those factory gates
Through falling, falling snow.
I wondered where it all went wrong
Those thoughts remained within my mind,
As I did languish in the drifts
My eyes were almost blind,
I could not see the way before
And yet the way I seemed to know,
That led unto those factory gates
Through falling, falling snow.
And so towards that bleak estate
Past houses that I knew so well,
I thought that I would rather starve
Than face that day of hell,
I fought against my apathy
But soon my tears began to flow,
As then I saw those factory gates
Through falling, falling snow.
poem by Andrew Blakemore
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Dark River
Swift 'n deep you run “Dark River”
Flowing relentless to a distant sea
You care not what gets in your way
Oh, impassive taker and faux-giver
How many canyons have you carved?
How many great trees carried away?
How many sins have washed clean?
Not even Mother Nature you obey
Dark River brought love to me
Then quickly washed it away
Deep ‘neath a million ripples
My fragile heart she did betray
Flow on Dark River, flow on
A Briny fate awaits, flow on
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
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Worst Person
i am a worst person
worst person who wish to kill my enemy
i want to kill them until they ask for a pity
kill them until their tears is falling
until their blood flow like a river
i want to see them screaming
screaming to me with tears of blood
blood of their own
i want to revenge for justice
justice that im asking for so long
so long that I've been to silence
so long that I'm crying as i sleep
because before i have no strength to fight
but now i found my strength
i don't have to cry as i sleep
my face will be brighten again
if i will kill them
i can taste the sweetness of a revenge
i don't have a pity with them anymore
because i am a worst person
poem by Shirralyn Poquiz
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