History is the witness that testifies to the passing of time; it illumines reality, vitalizes memory, provides guidance in daily life and brings us tidings of antiquity.
Cicero in Pro Publio Sestio
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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D. W. Suite
Written by lindsey buckingham.
A tribute to the late dennis wilson of the beach boys.
A. the wish
If we go, go insane
We can all go together
In this wild, wanton world
We can all break down forever . . .
I want to go, go forever
I want to go, go forever
It's just a memory
It's just a memory
It's just a memory . . .
Gone forever . . .
Gone forever . . .
B. the prayer
The closing of a chapter
The opening of a door
Brings forth life
Where there was no life before
I won't be here; i'll be watching from above
Always do you should
Always be good
And when push comes to shove
Pray for guidance from above
Shadow all your hopes with love
Live your life without a doubt
Outside in, inside out
Pray for guidance from above
Shadow all your hopes with love
Never be afraid, never be afraid
Pray for guidance from above
The closing of a chapter
The opening of a door
Brings forth life
Where there was no life before.
C. the reflection
(instrumental)
song performed by by Lindsey Buckingham
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The greatest pain
History
Storage of down-
Trodden memory
Antiquity?
Weight
Added to life's
Forward push to
See
History
The greatest plane
Fly forever
Just depart
No looking back
But to reminisce
The progression
The window
Opportunity
poem by Jeff Rushton
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Efforts to Enlighten These Charity Cases
Life is made a lot easier,
If one is on a side of it that dictates...
A reality that nature brings.
And we spend some time,
In the comprehension of it.
And still there are those,
Who make daily attempts...
In the defense of their perceptions.
With a stubborn-ness to enforce them,
On what has been accepted as reality.
Life is made a lot easier,
If one is on a side of it that dictates...
A reality that nature brings.
And we spend some time,
In the comprehension of it.
But many have no connection to life,
On that level.
Many have not been blessed,
To be challenge or tested to fail.
Or to have the experience,
Of being alone with grief.
And healing from its affects.
But many have no connection to life!
Not on that level.
And those who do...
Seem to be required to have more patience.
As if sacrificing throughout one's life,
Is not enough of a donation made...
In the support already given,
With continuous strenuous efforts...
To enlighten these charity cases.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A Painter Passing Through
Once upon a time I was on my own
Once upon a time like youve never known
Once upon a time I would be impressed
Once upon a time my life would be obsessed
Once upon a time, once upon a day when
I was in my prime, once along the way
If you want to know my secret dont come runnin after me
For I am just a painter passing through in history
Yesterday is gone, yesterdays alright
Yesterday belongs in my dreams at night
Yesterday is swell, yesterday is great
Yesterday is strong, remembering can wait
Once upon a time, once upon a day when
I was in my prime, once along the way
If you want to know an answer I cant turn your life around
For I am just a painter passing through the underground
I was in my stride, always at my game
Here comes mister cool, along the walk of fame
I was in demand, always in control
The world was in my hands, my touch had turn to gold
Once upon a time, I was in a daze when
I was in my prime, once along the way
If you want to know my secret dont come runnin after me
For I am just a painter passing through in history
Now that I am old, let me rest a spell
All that I am told, I can never tell
Never in my life, never will it pass
I am still alone, remembering at last
Once upon a time, once upon a day when
I was in my prime, once along the way
If you want to know an answer I cant turn your life around
For I am just a painter passing through the underground
If you want to know my secret dont come runnin after me
For I am just a painter passing through in history
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Art of Memory
Because the happiness, because the irony
Because the importance, because it is funny
Because the promise, because the faith
Memory is remembered
Whether daily, whether eventful
Whether beautiful, whether sad
Whether planned, whether accidental
Memory is made everyday
Because the time, because the nature
Because the trauma, because the secret
Because the plan, because the fear
Memory is forgotten
For the shame of dignity, for the hunger of power
In white lies, in written history
By erasing some fact, by adding impact
Memory is manipulated
By the flash of look, by the said word
By the thing, by the thought
By the shocking impact, by unconscious dream
Memory is triggered again
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Time (part 3) .
time brings out the sun and the rain,
time brings joy and pain,
time turns men from boys,
time gives you a choice,
time is beatiful,
time is sad at a funeral,
time brings out the best of me,
time brings you out of missery,
time is a mistery,
time creates history,
time is something you cant rewind,
time is something you can't search or find,
time could make you lose or win,
time makes all of us sin,
time could be the enemy or the friend,
time has a beggining but no end.
1/11/2009
Copyright ©2009 Jose Murguia
poem by Jose Murguia
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Can I Get A Witness
Can I get a witness
Maybe you got faith
In where this is going
Maybe Ill pull up the stakes
And Ill be letting go
I could not believe
I could not believe
Can I get a witness, witness x3
You know a lot of times I think how big
And I feel lost on the zag zig now
I could not believe
I could not believe
Can I get a witness, witness x3
And some of these people are just so lame
I dont feel like a pupil
Just a loser on a game show
I just cant believe it
No, I cant believe it
Can I get a witness, witness x3
Im rooting for you
And I toasted when I heard about you
And how you got a witness
A citizen maybe in another place
Here comes the wind
Im a chaser
Its time to leave
Here comes
Its time to leave
Can I get a witness, witness (repeat)
song performed by by Frank Black
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Few Two Liners
I’ve known reception
I’ve seen rejection
I’ve known how life gets reduced to a memory
I’ve seen how memory fades
I’ve seen how life takes off
I’ve known how life slumps
I’ve seen how one clings to life
I’ve known how life passes
I’ve known how knotty time is
I’ve seen comfort time brings
I've seen how life flows
I've known how it floods
I've seen clear light
I've known hazy veils in the way
I’ve seen the first cry
I’ve known the last breath
05 Apr 2011
07.20hrs
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Guidance To A Better Life
Many of us seek out
those older and wiser than ourselves
for the guidance to a better life.
We seek out the old and wiser
learning from the mistakes they made
so as we travel down the same path
we know which pitfalls to look out for
with guidance to a better life.
We can take less wrong turns
and journey forward in the knowledge
we will not make the mistakes they made.
We know life is never easy
so we seek out the guidance
from who have lived it longer than us,
those older and wiser than ourselves
for the guidance to a better life.
Then one day when we are as old as they,
we can pass on our knowledge to those young
who need guidance to a better life.
21 November 2009
poem by David Harris
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Witness
I saw an ant devour sherman mountain.
Slip across the floor in the river of honey.
I saw the locust drinking from a fountain.
It smiled at me as I paid my money.
Chorus
Caus Im a witness, witness, see the writing on the wall.
Im a witness, witness, I say Ive seen it all.
Caus Im a witness, witness, Ive got all the proof.
Im a witness, witness, I swear to tell the truth.
I saw her buying in the face of fashion.
Wholl believe with her little white lies.
I saw her arrive on my bed of passion.
But I never saw a look of love in her eyes.
Chorus
Some days my eyes can see for miles and miles around.
Some nights my dreams just take me deep underground.
My minds a time machine, Im in the future and the past.
The past... scrape away...
(violin solo)
Chorus
Chorus
Witness, witness, witness
Witness, witness, witness
Witness, witness, witness
Witness, witness, witness
song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Forty Years Old
The tidings of your melancholy loss,
And received at the other hand to crown your glory;
But ten times more of needful things like the muse of your love,
For i love you with my sincere heart.
Life is like the natural tune coming out from my radio,
And you are mine and i am yours;
For i will repay all that you've lost in this town,
So be confident with your thoughts towards me.
Bound to me only by the links of this love is your muse,
Because you are my daily joy as compared to a common man's life;
But the hiding places beyond the seas are with cheerfulness!
And i will bear your memory with me always.
It was like the love letters full of wondrous news,
And of the forty years old love songs to boast your muse;
But both of us will live to see a better day on this love.
Stong and hale,
Weak and pale,
And like a fairly tale;
But lay now the corner stone with a joyful heart!
And like a leisure hour out of sight,
But we will be pure as the naked heavens one day.
There is comfort in the strength of love,
And of the tidings of your melancholy loss;
But ten time more of needful things like the muse of your love.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen
(traditional)
God rest ye merry gentlemen
Let nothing you dismay
For jesus christ our savior
Was born upon this day
To save us all from satans power
When we were gone astray
Oh tidings of comfort and joy
Comfort and joy
Oh tidings of comfort and joy
From God our heavenly father
A blessed angel came
When unto certain shepards
Brought tidings of the same
How that in bethlehem was born
The son of God by name
Oh tidings of comfort and joy
Comfort and joy
Oh tidings of comfort and joy
Now to the lord sing praises
All you within this place
And with true love and brotherhood
Each other now embrace
This holy tide of christmas
All under shell replace
Oh tidings of comfort and joy
Comfort and joy
Oh tidings of comfort and joy
song performed by by Erasure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When They Told Me He's Gone
When they told me he's gone!
Inside me storms begun to cry
Ah, passing time!
You always steal
away the same way!
Till the day
whatever you've stole from me
Never brought them back to me!
My most precious ones
Those who's heart
beats with mine were
always one
My laughter
My most valuable
years
Those who were so
dear
Ah. passing time!
You always hurt the same!
How many hurts are hidden there yet!
Once again you made my eyes tear
May never i'll meet his eyes again
And who knows what tomorrow brings?
Years are rolling down so fast
Just breathe away and life ends
While still I keep inside the memories of the past
All those memories are figured out here
The first time I met his eyes
His first glance
Our first dance
We were cradling upon angels wings
Over there in the paradise
Away from earthly eyes
With every breathe of love desires
Butterflies inside me gladly flied
When first time I met his eyes
Yet still I have inside
The memory of his touch
And my heart beats still howling sullen vain
The longing of his love still crying woes
While in his heart our love has became just a history
Ah, somehow an old memory?
Yet for me his memories still surviving right here
Still so clear
Every while and while they rurvive
They're always near
They're always dear
In the depth of my heart they've got tired of waiting
My love has got tired!
When they told me he's gone
While inside me gauzy storms began moaing dreary dirges
Still rending vainy surges
Yet, with them our memories are crying pale!
Every seed of love that from him was left behind
With memories shivering cried wreck
When they told me that he's gone away
poem by Sossi Khachadourian
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God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen
God rest ye merry gentlemen,
Let nothing you dismay,
Remember christ our savior
Was born on christmas day,
To save us all from satans power
When we were gone astray;
Ooh tidings of comfort and joy,
Comfort and joy,
Ooh tidings of comfort and joy.
From God our heavenly father
A blessed angel came.
And unto certain shepherds
Brought tidings of the same,
How that in bethlehem was born
The son of God by name;
Ooh tidings of comfort and joy,
Comfort and joy,
Ooh tidings of comfort and joy.
Now to the lord sing praises,
All you within this place,
And with true love and brotherhood
Each other now embrace;
This holy tide of christmas
All others doth deface;
Ooh tidings of comfort and joy,
Comfort and joy,
Ooh tidings of comfort and joy.
song performed by by 98 Degrees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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History is Bunkum
History is Bunkum
History is often written by the victor
A web of deceit woven by the writer
To glorify the deeds of his master
And decry the good deeds of the loser:
His name is vilified
His good deeds set aside
His just cause demonised
Only the winner is glorified
History is father and mother of lies
Fabrications the writer describes
Leaving us an account after his demise,
A legacy that hopefully fools and survives
The passage of time testifies to its credibility
Self-interest confers on it the seal of authenticity
It is then paraded as the voice of truth and sanity
But we all know it is mostly hot air and vanity.
poem by Isam Hussain
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Words On Conceptual Poetry (8)
what is life? is not a qoestion of investigation but a survey of reality and witness
you might catch a whole picture of witness and so the quisi-witness will revolve against the autunomy of sectional obessions on uncomplicated impossibility
who are with you at the moment? is not question anymore now but a relationship of uncertainy leading to performatives and democracy-process of inapproriation or beyond appropriation you are unique bracked by your existence nobody is somebody final countdown to a new and prosperous year marching towards conceptually - shot movies of the streets
happy conceptual way to making-it-a-reality and art of proofs you can never make an image of diplomatic truths-binding-conditions emergind from the
half-myths and half-actualities life-lines
Over Our Heads
I don't think you love me
Confusion settling in
I don't think I'll be staying
Around here, anymore
There's no question that I love you
But I'm living in my own time
And here I am debating
Whether I'm wrong, or right
Who am I
To make a judgement of
Your life
I'm only
Passing by
Passing by
All the promises I gave you
Helped me to survive
And all the times I wished you'd save me
You were the love of my life
Who am I
To make a judgement of
Your life
I'm only
Passing by
Passing by
Who am I
To make a judgement of
Your life
I'm only
Passing by
Passing by
Who am I
To make a judgement of
Your life
I'm only
Passing by
Passing by
I'm only passing by ...
song performed by by Zero 7
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sayonara!
Sayonara, sayonara…
O Comforter of my heart,
It is time for me to go,
Like the passing of seasons,
This spring will not last,
I can't stop the daily sunsets,
Golden autumn is impatiently waiting.
When next winter come,
the pure white snow will fall again.
When the new spring reappear,
I hope to be standing in this garden again,
though I maybe alone…
I will cherish those unforgettable moments with you,
and these sweet red roses will surely bloom again as witness,
to the meeting of hearts,
Who comforted each other so much,
But yet impossible to be together.
poem by Desert Life
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How Do I Love You?
In mere words I can find no kind of way
to express the depth of my love for you,
the yearning of every passing day,
not even in the things that I say and do.
In the simple small daily kind of things
that fit into the mere puzzle of life,
intimate, sincere heartfelt tidings
outbalancing the every day strife
it is all unclear in the silent need,
that comes natural to you as my wife
it is from far beyond any act or deed
and its truth never pierces like a knife,
but is much like childhood faith, without pain
it is somewhat difficult to explain…
poem by Gert Strydom
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51. On “Bridge Over a Pool of Water Lilies” by Monet
Transparent Bridge
between
reality and reality
across
people’s dream
Time is frozen on the bridge
In the dream,
memory
reflects the trees, the grass
and leaves and water lilies and the bridge
memory
begins from inside the trees
and ends at reality
when the wind comes in
poem by Eugene Issaus
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