The Old and the New
Mars! Mars!
Thy clashing sword was keen
And glittering with stars.
Thine armour sheen
Shone to the terrored sky,
And o’er the bodies of thy foes
With open blows
Didst step to victory.
War! War!
They hidden horrors sound
And echo from afar.
Upon the ground
Thou liest now in fear
To wait the cunning chance
To thrust thy lance,
And hurl thy poisoned spear.
poem by Leon Gellert
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The Jew
Thou art more deadly than the Jew of old,
Thou hast his weapons hidden in thy speech;
And though thy hand from me thou dost withhold,
They pierce where sword and spear could never reach.
Thou hast me fenced about with thorny talk,
To pierce my soul with anguish while I hear;
And while amid thy populous streets I walk,
I feel at every step the entering spear;
Go, cleanse thy lying mouth of all its guile
That from the will within thee ever flows;
Go, cleanse the temple thou dost now defile,
Then shall I cease to feel thy heavy blows;
And come and tread with me the path of peace,
And from thy brother's harm forever cease.
poem by Jones Very
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Today... 'The Glorious Sword
There is a Sword that is so sharp and so keen
the most Glorious Sword that has ever been.
Mighty in battle He has slain all His foes
and will have victory wherever He goes.
The Word of Truth and the Sword of the Spirit
overcame death and shall all things inherit.
He breaks our shackles and scatters all His foes
with His glory heaven and earth overflows.
Christ the Son of God is that Glorious Sword
Saviour of the world and Everlasting Lord.
Devils fear and angels sing as He draws near
And all creation waits for Him to appear.
(see also the additional information in the Poet's notes box below)
Voices Of The Night : The Light Of Stars
The night is come, but not too soon;
And sinking silently,
All silently, the little moon
Drops down behind the sky.
There is no light in earth or heaven
But the cold light of stars;
And the first watch of night is given
To the red planet Mars.
Is it the tender star of love?
The star of love and dreams?
O no! from that blue tent above,
A hero's armor gleams.
And earnest thoughts within me rise,
When I behold afar,
Suspended in the evening skies,
The shield of that red star.
O star of strength! I see thee stand
And smile upon my pain;
Thou beckonest with thy mailed hand,
And I am strong again.
Within my breast there is no light
But the cold light of stars;
I give the first watch of the night
To the red planet Mars.
The star of the unconquered will,
He rises in my breast,
Serene, and resolute, and still,
And calm, and self-possessed.
And thou, too, whosoe'er thou art,
That readest this brief psalm,
As one by one thy hopes depart,
Be resolute and calm.
O fear not in a world like this,
And thou shalt know erelong,
Know how sublime a thing it is
To suffer and be strong.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Light of Stars, The
The night is come, but not too soon;
And sinking silently,
All silently, the little moon
Drops down behind the sky.
There is no light in earth or heaven
But the cold light of stars;
And the first watch of night is given
To the red planet Mars.
Is it the tender star of love?
The star of love and dreams?
O no! from that blue tent above,
A hero's armor gleams.
And earnest thoughts within me rise,
When I behold afar,
Suspended in the evening skies,
The shield of that red star.
O star of strength! I see thee stand
And smile upon my pain;
Thou beckonest with thy mailed hand,
And I am strong again.
Within my breast there is no light
But the cold light of stars;
I give the first watch of the night
To the red planet Mars.
The star of the unconquered will,
He rises in my breast,
Serene, and resolute, and still,
And calm, and self-possessed.
And thou, too, whosoe'er thou art,
That readest this brief psalm,
As one by one thy hopes depart,
Be resolute and calm.
O fear not in a world like this,
And thou shalt know erelong,
Know how sublime a thing it is
To suffer and be strong.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Getting Past Face Values
Getting past face values.
Divulge your secrets stars.
We have collided with mars.
Just once more.
Let me open up from inside out.
The old photograph reappears.
Rehabilitation nears.
Can I do it?
Make it or break it.
The lake is filled full again.
So crystal blue.
If only I can fit into these shoes.
You have no clue what I'm going through.
Get past the face values.
Divulge your secrets stars.
We have collided with mars.
Do I measure up to par.
Wishing to angels in the dark.
Skeletons come upon me and
I say go away.
This time I finally fix my mistakes with a rake.
I'm dragging the pieces back in.
Its another puzzle.
Can I make them fit.
Pleasantries gone amiss.
They turn into a vipers kiss.
I just cant help it.
What good have I done to deserve this.
Getting past face values.
Divulge your secrets stars.
We have collided with mars.
I have opened a new door.
Where does it lead?
The beautiful let down.
Just lost waiting to be found.
Turn around. Here it comes.
You have been summoned for a higher cause.
Bow down and meditate.
Concentrate before its to late.
Planning it out as if you already know.
Adapt to the enviroment.
Some situations need such delicacy.
Dont step on to many toes.
The giants have fallen so its time to go.
Getting past face values.
Devulge your secrets stars.
We have collided with mars.
Now I shall disembark and leave an everlasting mark.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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The Mars Bar
Oh, lord have mercy for the blessed Mars Bar!
I taste the nought and caramel in my mouth,
And it goes so far,
Just that one Mars Bar!
That Mars Bar can ease my troubles,
And leave me at peace,
For chocolate bars are both a blessing and a curse,
I can't choose which is worse,
Oh, heavenly Mars Bar!
And in the shop I look around,
And see other chocolate and candy bars,
Feeling so ravenous and famished,
Sometimes a galaxy bar will do,
But I always come back,
To the faithful Mars Bar!
The naughty ritual of the schoolgirl,
Pressured to diet,
Dreading the day she will be middle aged and fat,
Not to mention a housewife,
But times are changing,
Curvy is in,
For eating never was a sin,
Oh, wonderful Mars Bar!
I am older now,
But remember fondly those trips,
To the corner shop,
Feeling quietly delighted,
At the same time,
Oh, glorious Mars Bar!
poem by Paula Glynn
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Jai Ho, Jai Ho, Jai Ho, Jai Ho - Be Victorious
Jai Ho, Jai Ho, Jai Ho, Jai Ho
Be thou victorious, be thou victorious
Be thou victorious, be thou victorious
Come on in and join us under this big
Well decorated and tastefully coloured shelter
Come on in and join us under the
Glittering blue sky and celebrate thy victory
Be thou victorious, be thou victorious
Despite the fact that thou know
As each day passes thou art nearing thy death
Be thou victorious
Be thou victorious and dance on
The ever burning earthly turmoil
As the flames of black coal
Dance with the waving wind
Be thou victorious, be thou victorious
Blow away thy sleep
From thy ever bright eyes
And in thy demonstration
Show to the world
That thou art victorious
Be thou victorious, be thou victorious
Extend thy tender fingers to reach out
The shining stars on the sky
Brushing aside the dogma around them
Be thou victorious
Be thou victorious, be thou victorious
Overcoming all the obstacles
Bottlenecks between thou and the victory
Let thou be crowned with victory always
Be thou victorious
Be thou victorious, be thou victorious
Despite thy knowing thy weaknesses
But thou know how to harness thy strengths
And emerge victorious
In all challenging situations
Be thou victorious
Be thou victorious, be thou victorious
Be thou victorious, be thou victorious
Come on in and join us under this big
Well decorated and tastefully coloured shelter
Come on in and join us under the
Glittering blue sky and celebrate thy victory
Jai Ho, Jai Ho, Jai Ho, Jai Ho
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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Thunder Sword
Man did not fear man
But the hero fear death of hero
By the dangerous thunder sword
Thro his shine sword and bright eyes
That bends all head of tree with arm
Oh, thou spirit of thunder,
No sword no spear in his palm
But his hand sharp more than sword
And it killed more than fire
No man can face and defeat
Thro his molest fire of his mouth
The lightning echo on sky bewilder heart
And thunderbolts annoyed with mirror of man
Which no man can harm on earth.
.
poem by Olugbenga Ayoola.O
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Pallas And Venus. An Epigram
The Trojan swain had judged the great dispute,
And beauty's power obtain'd the golden fruit,
When Venus, loose in all her naked charms,
Met Jove's great daughter clad in shining arms,
The wanton goddess view'd the warlike maid
From head to foot, and tauntingly she said;
Yield sister; rival, yield: naked, you see,
I vanquish: guess how potent I should be,
If to the field I came in armour dress'd,
Dreadful like thine my shield, and terrible my crest!
The warrior goddess with disdain replied,
Thy folly, child, is equal to thy pride:
Let a brave enemy for once advise,
And Venus (if 'tis possible) be wise:
Thou to be strong must put off every dress;
Thy only armour is thy nakedness;
And more than once (or thou art much belied)
By Mars himself that armour has been tried.
poem by Matthew Prior
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To One who Loved not Poetry
THOU liest dead, and there will be no memory left behind
Of thee or thine in all the earth, for never didst thou bind
The roses of Pierian streams upon thy brow; thy doom
Is now to flit with unknown ghosts in cold and nameless gloom.
An heroic address to [Oxford], concerning the combined utility and dignity of military affairs and o
This is my welcome; this is how I have decided to bid All Hail!
to thee and to the other Nobles.
Thy splendid fame, great Earl, demands even more than in the case of others
the services of a poet possessing lofty eloquence.
Thy merit doth not creep along the ground,
nor can it be confined within the limits of a song.
It is a wonder which reaches as far as the heavenly orbs.
O great-hearted one, strong in thy mind and thy fiery will,
thou wilt conquer thyself, thou wilt conquer others;
thy glory will spread out in all directions beyond the Arctic Ocean;
and England will put thee to the test and prove thee to be native-born Achilles.
Do thou but go forward boldly and without hesitation.
Mars will obey thee, Hermes will be thy messenger,
Pallas striking her shield with her spear shaft will attend thee,
thine own breast and courageous heart will instruct thee.
For long time past Phoebus Apollo has cultivated thy mind in the arts.
English poetical measures have been sung by thee long enough.
Let that Courtly Epistle —
more polished even than the writings of Castiglione himself —
witness how greatly thou dost excel in letters.
I have seen many Latin verses of thine, yea,
even more English verses are extant;
thou hast drunk deep draughts not only of the Muses of France and Italy,
but hast learned the manners of many men, and the arts of foreign countries.
It was not for nothing that Sturmius , himself was visited by thee;
neither in France, Italy, nor Germany are any such cultivated and polished men.
O thou hero worthy of renown, throw away the insignificant pen, throw away bloodless books,
and writings that serve no useful purpose; now must the sword be brought into play,
now is the time for thee to sharpen the spear and to handle great engines of war.
On all sides men are talking of camps and of deadly weapons; war and the Furies are everywhere,
and Bellona reigns supreme.
Now may all martial influences support thy eager mind, driving out the cares of Peace.
Pull Hannibal up short at the gates of Britain. Defended though he be by a mighty host,
let Don John of Austria come on only to be driven home again. Fate is unknown to man,
nor are the counsels of the Thunderer fully determined.
And what if suddenly a most powerful enemy should invade our borders?
If the Turk should be arming his savage hosts against us?
What though the terrible war trumpet is even now sounding its blast?
Thou wilt see it all; even at this very moment thou art fiercely longing for the fray.
I feel it. Our whole country knows it.
In thy breast is noble blood, Courage animates thy brow, Mars lives in thy tongue,
Minerva strengthen thy right hand, Bellona reigns in thy body, within thee burns the fire of Mars.
Thine eyes flash fire, thy countenance shakes a spear;
who would not swear that Achilles had come to life again?
poem by Gabriel Harvey
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Fear Kills The Pleasure
Fear mars the pleasure of smoking
When you smoke in a forbidden place.
Fear mars the pleasure of mating
When you mate with a forbidden person.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The Retirement Of Mars
He pauses on his way, and gazing back
across the desert ways of splintered steel
recalls the noon, and sees his weary track,
and sees the bloody imprint of his heel.
A Mars long tired he stands-a noble Mars!
Stiff with the staggering day, and fields hard won.
His bruised helm is glittering with scars
that gleam afar and spy the setting sun.
With red plumes doffed and foe-revering face
he moves adroop, to seek the sea, the waves,
to seek the sighing winds, the shades of space,
and rest his heart within Twilight Caves.
The dazzling axe is deep, its lord abed.
The dead are lying with the friendly dead!
poem by Leon Gellert
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A Dead Astronomer
(Father Perry, S.J.)
Starry amorist, starward gone,
Thou art--what thou didst gaze upon!
Passed through thy golden garden's bars,
Thou seest the Gardener of the Stars.
She, about whose moon-ed brows
Seven stars make seven glows,
Seven lights for seven woes;
She, like thine own Galaxy,
All lustres in one purity:-
What said'st thou, Astronomer,
When thou did'st discover HER?
When thy hand its tube let fall,
Thou found'st the fairest Star of all!
poem by Francis Thompson
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David's Lament for Jonathan
Thou wast hard pressed, yet God concealed this thing
From me; and thou wast wounded very sore,
And beaten down, O son of Israel's king,
Like wheat on threshing-flour.
Thou, that from courtly and from wise for friend
Didst choose me, and in spite of ban and sneer,
Rebuke and ridicule, until the end
Didst ever hold me dear!
All night thy body on the mountain lay:
At morn the heathen nailed thee to their wall.
Surely their deaf gods hear the songs to-day
O'er the slain House of Saul!
Oh! if that witch were here thy father sought,
Methinks I e'en could call thee from thy place,
To shift thy mangled image from my thought,
Seeing thy soul's calm face.
I sorrowed for the words the prophet spoke,
That set me rival to thy father's line;
But o'er thy spirit no repining broke
For what had else been thine.
Thou wast not like to me, so rude, so hot;
The world was not in thine, as in my sight,
Like the proud giant who from Israel sought
A champion to fight.
I thought to ask, nor looked to be denied,
Of God, that in my days there might ascend
His House; not from my hands, so redly dyed,
But thine, pure-hearted friend.
My friend, within God's House thou dwellest now;
Thy wounds are healed, thou need'st no Gilead-balm;
Defeated and degraded, yet thy brow
Is crowned, with death and calm.
O God, this is Thy black and bitter sea
Which buffets so and blinds my struggling soul:
Out of the depths I cry, O God, to Thee,
Whose grief-waves o'er me roll.
God give to me the spirit that was his,
The patience, that he needs no more to blend
With the wild eagerness that mars my bliss;
I would be like my friend.
Through the dark valley soon, to where he stands,
God summon me! Till then the sword shall shine
That comes from his dead grasp into my hands:
His children be as mine!
poem by Mary Hannay Foott
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Man From Mars
Since I lost you
I cant get through the day
Without at least one big boo-hoo
The pain wont go away
What am I gonna do?
Man from mars
This time you went too far
I fall apart
Everytime I think of you
Swallowed by the dark
There is no center to my life now
No grace in my heart
Man from mars
This time you went too far
I call and call
The silence is so full of sounds
Youre in them all
I hear you in the water
And the wiring in the walls
Man from mars
This time you went too far
song performed by by Joni Mitchell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Apparuit
Golden rose the house, in the portal I saw
thee, a marvel, carven in subtle stuff, a
portent. Life died down in the lamp and flickered,
caught at the wonder.
Crimson, frosty with dew, the roses bend where
thou afar, moving in the glamorous sun,
drinkst in life of earth, of the air, the tissue
golden about thee.
Green the ways, the breath of the fields is thine there,
open lies the land, yet the steely going
darkly hast thou dared and the dreaded aether
parted before thee.
Swift at courage thou in the shell of gold, casting
a-loose the cloak of the body, earnest
straight, then shone thine oriel and the stunned light
faded about thee.
Half the graven shoulder, the throat aflash with
strands of light inwoven about it, loveliest
of all things, frail alabaster, ah me!
swift in departing.
Clothed in goldish weft, delicately perfect,
gone as wind ! The cloth of the magical hands!
Thou a slight thing, thou in access of cunning
dar'dst to assume this?
poem by Ezra Pound
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How Long Can We Ride This Crazy Bus?
Put your nuclear reactors
and power plants on Mars,
Mars was ruined from all
of the wars.
Wars we had way
in the past..
Look at Planet Earth
do we have a chance?
Think of the future
and not of the greed
Today,
Maybe we might live
and be able to say,
We did this for our children,
and for us,
How long can we ride this
Dangerous crazy bus?
Written on March 15,2011 by Christina Sunrise
poem by Suzae Chevalier
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Clasping of Hands
LORD, Thou art mine, and I am Thine,
If mine I am; and Thine much more
Then I or ought or can be mine.
Yet to be Thine doth me restore,
So that again I now am mine,
And with advantage mine the more,
Since this being mine brings with it Thine,
And Thou with me dost Thee restore:
If I without Thee would be mine,
I neither should be mine nor Thine.
Lord, I am Thine, and Thou art mine;
So mine Thou art, that something more
I may presume Thee mine then Thine,
For Thou didst suffer to restore
Not Thee, but me, and to be mine:
And with advantage mine the more,
Since Thou in death wast none of Thine,
Yet then as mine didst me restore:
O, be mine still; still make me Thine;
Or rather make no Thine and Mine.
poem by George Herbert
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Sonnet To Chatterton
O Chatterton! how very sad thy fate!
Dear child of sorrow -- son of misery!
How soon the film of death obscur'd that eye,
Whence Genius mildly falsh'd, and high debate.
How soon that voice, majestic and elate,
Melted in dying numbers! Oh! how nigh
Was night to thy fair morning. Thou didst die
A half-blown flow'ret which cold blasts amate.
But this is past: thou art among the stars
Of highest heaven: to the rolling spheres
Thou sweetly singest: nought thy hymning mars,
Above the ingrate world and human fears.
On earth the good man base detraction bars
From thy fair name, and waters it with tears.
poem by John Keats
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