Little Ode
Tufted like whips
vines taper down
in wobbly bliss.
Grapeskins
pulled so thin
one can see in and in.
Wine runs out
the spiggots and spouts
of this duchy.
The inn has no more rooms-
three, maybe four
sleep on the floor.
There has been a warning:
in a lamp of fog
a bell tolling.
All the grain is in-
the wind turns cold.
what shall I do?
Tu Fu,
Li Po,
where shall
I go?
poem by Morgan Michaels

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Mooring at Twilight in Yuyi District
Furling my sail near the town of Huai,
I find for harbour a little cove
Where a sudden breeze whips up the waves.
... The sun is growing dim now and sinks in the dusk.
People are coming home. The bright mountain-peak darkens.
Wildgeese fly down to an island of white weeds.
... At midnight I think of a northern city-gate,
And I hear a bell tolling between me and sleep.
poem by Wei Yingwu, translated by Witter Bynner

Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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I Can Hear The Funeral Bell
I can hear the funeral bell tolling in the church across the way
Calling in the family and friends of the deceased one for to pray
For the soul of the departed though what happens to the soul
When life's last breath we have taken would seem beyond our control,
Tolling slow and tolling loudly carrying in the freshening breeze
Out there in the sunlit Parkland birds are whistling on the trees
Life on Earth goes on as usual though to life people come and go
Though of a life after death it would seem none can say that they truly know,
Listening to the bell toll slowly makes me once again recall
My own very fragile mortality there's a last day for us all,
Life is brief the years go quickly time does not wait for you or I
And they say the longer we live the sooner we are going to die
And though the funeral bell is tolling in the house of prayer nearby
Swallows chirp above the Parkland in the bright and sunny sky.
poem by Francis Duggan

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Weather God
Wind rain and the bone chill of cold
Is this the anger of the weather god sending us merely made of flesh a warning?
A warning not to stand to tall in the order of things
A warning of how brick and cement hardened for a hundred years can crumble and be washed away in a mere moment
Or is it to teach us that from all bad there is always better
From all wind rain and cold
There will be calm sun and warmth
Let us all heed its warnings
poem by lindsay Dougherty

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Sing Me A Song
Sing me a song -
What shall I sing? -
Three merry sisters
Dancing in a ring,
Light and fleet upon their feet
As birds upon the wing.
Tell me a tale -
What shall I tell?
Two mournful sisters,
And a tolling knell,
Tolling ding and tolling dong,
Ding dong bell.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti

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The Warning Bell Within Your Head
Feeling all alone and deceived
Manipulation delivered drenched in sweetness
How could you be so blinded
Cold hard facts don't exist
Just the warning bell within your head
Little things that don't make sense
All the things that haven't been said
God, have mercy upon you
You just want to scream
Insanity, confusion, repulsion
Mixed with love, kindness, cleverness
This is nothing new
You want to run but don't know how
You've lived so long within these walls
Prisoner or princess, are they the same?
Envied by so many for what they think you have
Smiling on the outside, screaming on the inside
What have you become? Barely functioning, you're so numb
Nothing left inside to give, nowhere you can turn to run
You should have looked beyond the smile
You should have listened to the warning bell so long ago
The warning bell within your head
poem by Jennifer Batch

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Cold Wind Waits
though the frost is gone, the
cold wind waits.
the robin sings while the
cold wind waits.
a gentle breeze
now blows the wheat,
but a threat of rain
will change to sleet.
the summer slips and the
cold wind waits.
though the warm wind blows, the
cold wind waits.
the traffic crawls while the
cold wind waits.
it's dark too early,
winter too soon,
light of the sun
will change to moon.
the weather turns and the
cold wind waits.
(2011-Bolingbrook, IL)
poem by Mark Money

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The First Night
Now night comes, the first night in the grave.
O where is all the brightness that surrounded you?
Your bed is made in the cold earth.
How will you sleep tonight?
Your pillow is damp from the last rain;
nightbirds scream, scared away by the wind;
no little lamps burn for you now; only the moonlight,
cold and pale, plays on the place where you sleep.
The hours creep by-- will you sleep till daylight?
Do you, like me, hear every toll of the bell?
How can I lie peacefully and sleep for a little while
when you, my love, are in such a bad bed?
You came, you went with a light trace,
a fleeting guest in this land of earth;
Where from? Whither? We only know:
from God's hand to God's hand.
poem by Isolde Kurz

Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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A March Day in London
The east wind blows in the street to-day;
The sky is blue, yet the town looks grey.
'Tis the wind of ice, the wind of fire,
Of cold despair and of hot desire,
Which chills the flesh to aches and pains,
And sends a fever through all the veins.
From end to end, with aimless feet,
All day long have I paced the street.
My limbs are weary, but in my breast
Stirs the goad of a mad unrest.
I would give anything to stay
The little wheel that turns in my brain;
The little wheel that turns all day,
That turns all night with might and main.
What is the thing I fear, and why?
Nay, but the world is all awry--
The wind's in the east, the sun's in the sky.
The gas-lamps gleam in a golden line;
The ruby lights of the hansoms shine,
Glance, and flicker like fire-flies bright;
The wind has fallen with the night,
And once again the town seems fair
Thwart the mist that hangs i' the air.
And o'er, at last, my spirit steals
A weary peace ; peace that conceals
Within its inner depths the grain
Of hopes that yet shall flower again.
Rock And Roll
She's out of her mind, like the wind in the storm
Like the ocean in the dawn as it disappears, with the riptide
She's out of her mind, she's pulled away by the moon
She's ripped from her sleep As the cold luna sweep gains control
What you gonna do With your emotions
Ones you barely recognize
In your sleep I heard your screaming
song performed by by Lou Reed

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ravenlord
Grey morning, dawn won the fight
Daylight drives away the night
Fog's rising out in the fields
The birth of winter is in sight
Dark shadows fall from the sky
They alight on gallows tree
black feathers, amber beaks
waiting for their deity
Leaves are spinning 'round
Lost and never found
When the king takes the crown
Can you feel
The autumn wind blowing
Ravenlord is coming to stay
Can you hear
The passing bell tolling
Ravenlord - takes you far away
Sharp talons, pinions of ice
The obscure the new-born day
Hot breathing freezes to snow
piercing caws lead you astray
Leaves are spinning 'round
Lost and never found
When the king takes the crown
Can you feel
The autumn wind blowing
Ravenlord is coming to stay
Can you hear
The passing bell tolling
Ravenlord -
Takes you far away
[Stormwitch Cover]
song performed by by Hammerfall

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Red, Sparkling Wine
I Have Seen A Sight
Of a Man Falling Down …
… it wasn’t for a Fight
… but it was due to what He’d Found …
… Red Sparkling Wine… Does It Every Time
Red Sparkling Wine… She Should Be A Crime …
Red Sparkling Wine…
She Starts out – Flowing – Smooth
Gets in Your Blood – Then You got Somethin’ to Prove!
You Chase Her Intoxicating Perfume
… must be Brand X … or Lady-Doom …
… Red Sparkling Wine… Does It Every Time
Red Sparkling Wine… Feeling So Sublime …
Red Sparkling Wine…
… Sweet from the Vine, but She ain’t Vintage
Make You Loose Your Mind and Your Hard-Earned Wages
Her Cheap-Thrills… can’t Heal a Heart, that’s Bruised …
You ain’t in Love! … just in a Bottle of Booze …
of Red Sparkling Wine… Once in awhile is Fine
Red Sparkling Wine… Know the Warning Signs ….
of Red Sparkling Wine…
She’s Beautiful, as She Pours
Your Problems – Passed-Out, on The Floor
She’s Crystal-Blood in an Hour-Glass
Her Pity-Promises… just don’t Last…
Red Sparkling Wine… Does It Every Time
Red Sparkling Wine… She’ll have You begging for Dimes …
… to buy … Red Sparkling Wine…
She’ll leave You Broke, You won’t be able to Think
She’s ‘Madam Dope’ … if You Need One More Drink
… of Red Sparkling Wine… Just a Matter of Time
Red Sparkling Wine… Have Another… ‘ Cause I’m …
… Red Sparkling Wine …
poem by MoonBee Canady

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The Lamp of Poor Souls
[In many English churches before the Reformation there was kept a little lamp continually burning, called the Lamp of Poor Souls. People were reminded thereby to pray for the souls of those dead whose kinsfolk were too poor to pay for prayers and masses.]
Above my head the shields are stained with rust,
The wind has taken his spoil, the moth his part;
Dust of dead men beneath my knees, and dust,
Lord, in my heart.
Lay Thou the hand of faith upon my fears;
The priest has prayed, the silver bell has rung,
But not for him. O unforgotten tears,
He was so young!
Shine, little lamp, nor let thy light grow dim.
Into what vast, dread dreams, what lonely lands,
Into what griefs hath death delivered him,
Far from my hands?
Cradled is he, with half his prayers forgot.
I cannot learn the level way he goes.
He whom the harvest hath remembered not
Sleeps with the rose.
Shine, little lamp, fed with sweet oil of prayers.
Shine, little lamp, as God's own eyes may shine,
When He treads softly down His starry stairs
And whispers, "Thou art Mine."
Shine, little lamp, for love hath fed thy gleam.
Sleep, little soul, by God's own hands set free.
Cling to His arms and sleep, and sleeping, dream,
And dreaming, look for me.
poem by Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall

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The Grove
Blueberries and vines over the fence
like wayward lines passing over the rigids and boundaries
and bleeding;
it's skin holds the blood of the divine.
And beyond it,
the beige and tan fields swooping up and down,
down in the valley floor,
the dry brittle grain,
exposed to the sun.
'One begins to wonder in times of greater discomfort.'
The valley opens and closes for miles,
only imagining it's touch;
the distant ridge line
holds breathlessly still.
It's autumn leaves beginning,
to fall against the curtain
past the crimson red vines,
meandering through beside
The setting sun.
poem by Joseph Ostapiuk

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Last Night
Last
night
thin
rain,
gusty
wind.
Dense
sleep
doesn't
fade
a wine
hangover.
I'm talking
to her
who
rolled up
the curtains.
Are you
blind!
I
say.
By now
they're
fat
green
and skimpy
red.
poem by Li Ching Chao

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Whiteout
A dainty little snowflake fell
Upon the tiger's nose...
It sounded like a warning bell
And suddenly he froze...
He bowed his head and heaved a sigh,
As if he had the blues,
Because he sensed that by and by
Another meal he'd lose...
'That's fine and dandy! Ticketyboo!
Oh, joy... it's back again! '
Yet there was nothing he could do,
Except count up to ten!
Through gritted teeth, he braced himself,
Against the coming cold...
As if life left him on the shelf,
Now he was getting old.
Don't think he was a scaredy-cat,
Some weakling on his own,
With wobbly jowls and flabby fat,
No teeth to chew a bone.
He was as sleek as he could be,
With muscles like taut springs!
Yet snow was oh so slippery
And when it lands, it clings!
The Autumn nights were cold enough
Without this added perk,
For snow could make life really tough
And cause him extra work...
A tiny tear fell from one eye...
And plopped upon the ground...
Just like God's diamonds from the sky,
The tiger to surround...
The Stephen Gayford poems can be viewed here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale

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Die, My Darling
Die, my darling
A whispered warning
Of horrors in your mind
Die, my lover
I will discover
The treachery of your kind
Down, my sweet
Fall at my feet
My judgement lies in wait
Down, my heart
The time to part
Has come to us too late
Sleep, my treasure
A bitter pleasure
Like honey-sweetened wine
Sleep, my precious
A kiss so vicious
When vengeance will be mine
Perish, my love
My devil above
What cobweb touches more?
Perish, my dear
And disappear
When I hit the floor
poem by Rebecca Kate Summers

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The way it goes. (BY A 12 YEAR OLD)
The wind in your hair,
the wind in your face, the wind in your toes,
the wind up in space.
The wind down below,
or even up higher.
as cold as ice,
or as hot as fire.
When the wind tieds down,
the grass stops moving.
The trees are still,
and grandma starts snoring.
The day comes to night,
The sun turns to moon.
Then I have to wait,
till morning to use a spoon.
Good night my child,
now, you rest up good!
for now you'll be sleeping,
aswell as the neighborhood.
So as you sleep,
I'll continue to sing.
and when the day comes
you'll get the chance,
to sing to your kids, my love.
poem by Braylyn Thomasson

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This Bread I Break
This bread I break was once the oat,
This wine upon a foreign tree
Plunged in its fruit;
Man in the day or wine at night
Laid the crops low, broke the grape's joy.
Once in this time wine the summer blood
Knocked in the flesh that decked the vine,
Once in this bread
The oat was merry in the wind;
Man broke the sun, pulled the wind down.
This flesh you break, this blood you let
Make desolation in the vein,
Were oat and grape
Born of the sensual root and sap;
My wine you drink, my bread you snap.
poem by Dylan Thomas

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Pulled Up
Mommy, daddy, come and look at me now
Im a big man in a great big town
Years ago who would believe its true
Goes to show what a little faith can do
I was complaining, I was down in the dumps
I feel so strong now cause you pulled me up!
Pull me up up up up up up up up
I slipped, and I got pulled
Pulled up, I tripped, and then you pulled,
You pulled me up
I slipped, and I got pulled,
Pulled up, I slipped, and then you pulled,
You pulled me up pull me up pull me up...
Pulled me up up up up up up up up
I drift away to another land
Sleeping dreaming such a simple thing
I think of things that I might be
I see my name go down in history
I was complaining, I was down in the dumps
I feel so string now cause you pulled me up!
Pull me up up up up up up up up
I slipped, and I got pulled,
Pulled up, I tripped, and then you pulled,
You pulled me up
I tripped, and I got pulled
Pulled up, I slipped, and then you pulled
You pulled me up! pulled me up up, pulled me up...
Pulled me up up up up up up up up
I got up
cause you pulled me up
I stood up
cause you pulled me up
I got up
And that was because you pulled me up
I got up
In a little while you pulled me up
Pull me up up up up, up up up up!
Pull me up up up up up up up up!
I cast a shadow on the living-room wall
Dark and savage with a profile so sharp
Keep that wonderful food on the table
Theres really no hurry Ill eat in a while
I was complaining, I was down in the dumps
I feel so strong now cause you pulled me up!
Pull me up up up up up up up up!
I slipped, and I got pulled
Pulled up, I tripped, and then you pulled,
You pulled me up
I slipped, and I got pulled
Pulled up, I slipped,
And then you pulled, you pulled me up!
Pull me up...pull me up...watch out!
Pull me up up up up up up up up!
Pull me up up up up up up up up!
Pull me up up up up up up up up!
song performed by by Talking Heads

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Martha
SEXTON! Martha's dead and gone;
Toll the bell! toll the bell!
Her weary hands their labor cease;
Good night, poor Martha,-- sleep in peace!
Toll the bell!
Sexton! Martha 's dead and gone;
Toll the bell! toll the bell!
For many a year has Martha said,
"I'm old and poor,-- would I were dead!"
Toll the bell!
Sexton! Martha's dead and gone;
Toll the bell! toll the bell!
She'll bring no more, by day or night,
Her basket full of linen white.
Toll the bell!
Sexton! Martha's dead and gone;
Toll the bell! toll the bell!
'Tis fitting she should lie below
A pure white sheet of drifted snow.
Toll the bell!
Sexton! Martha's dead and gone;
Toll the bell! toll the bell!
Sleep, Martha, sleep, to wake in light,
Where all the robes are stainless white.
Toll the bell!
poem by Oliver Wendell Holmes

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