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Clashing Swords

The sword clashes in mighty strokes with the stone,
The stone splits from the massive tone of the alone.
These slumbers write a mischief and outburst,
To be booked and looked at, to be accursed.

Then somebody reigns over us with dignity,
Holding gifts so treacherous, of no generosity.
The futility, and shame of our past trials
Shows outbursts so malignant that we are in denials.

A sword has won, victory commands my pride
To swivel and learn greater quests alongside.
The need of danger after jeopardy is superb,
I may discriminate on grounds to disturb.

poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sword Of Mine

The Sword that I carry
Though made not of iron or steel,
It is a mighty sword
That I proudly do so wield.
Though it wont break the skin
Or combat the weapons of a foe
But this is a mighty sword of mine
More precious than silver or gold.

This sword that I carry
I proudly display it in my hand,
For I know this sword of mine
Is greater, than any other mans.
It comforts me when I am tired
It will warm me when I am cold
It will lie down beside of me
To protect, and strengthen my soul.

The sword that I hold
Is tattered, and so very worn
It has been a friend along side of me,
In the sunshine and many storms.
It has shown me a path to follow
And has lit the road that I walk,
And those nights when I was alone and scared
Then to me, I could hear it talk.

The sword that I wield
Though may be different, in shape or size,
But it is the same sword
Which for years has cushioned the souls cry.
It has been here since the dawn of time
And will be here when the great walls fall,
And then when all men of war and hate reflect,
My sword, will be the mightiest sword of all.

Randy L. McClave

poem by Randy McClave
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Stone That You Love

you are unique
for having loved a stone

how did the stone
entice you?
are you seduced by
its silence?
are you tempted by
its solitude?

you take the pain
poking the stone to
your heart
and you bleed
you rub the stone
in the skin of your body
hoping that someday
the stone may have
feelings and
love you

but this is all useless
the stone is a stone is a stone
and there is no love
in its blank stare
there is no softness in its
belly

i ponder upon this
and come to think of it
you and the stone
are the same
on this hardheadedness
this futility
this numbness
this suffering without end

the stone can never give
a part of its cracks
it will never part with its
dust

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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)

poem by Roy Allen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To Turn The Stone

The moon retreats behind a silver cloud
As darkness throws its cloak towards the earth
And mystery replaces what thought we knew
To turn the stone, to turn the stone
The one dimension only shows one side
But do we see the same through different eyes
As you and I peer into lifes kaleidoscope
To turn the stone, to turn the stone
Eternal sands of time shift endlessly
Behind a veil of motionless disguise
An eyelid flash is all it really seems to need
To turn the stone, to turn the stone
To turn the stone, to turn the stone

song performed by by Donna Summer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Einstein, Nicholas, My Fantastic Wife And Our Dog On The Beach At Home

a stone
a relative stone
a meteoric stone
a Newtonian stone
a photoelectric stone
a stone from Manhattan
a thermodynamic stone

one stone
a son

in my life
in my wife
a sun

alone

poem by Nicolas Grenier
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Mountaineer

ERE Beowulf's song
Was heard from the ships,
Ere Roland had set
The horn to his lips:

In Ogham strokes
A name was writ:
That name his name
Lives in yet.

The strokes on the edge
Of the stone might count
The acres he has
On this bare mount;

But he remembers
The pillar-stone,
And knows that he is
Of the seed of Eoin.

poem by Padraic Colum
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Soldier's Grave

THERE'S a white stone placed upon yonder tomb,
Beneath is a soldier lying -
The death-wound came, amid sword and plume,
When banner and ball were flying.

Yet now he sleeps, the turf on his breast,
By wet wild flowers surrounded;
The church shadow falls o'er the place of his rest,
Where the steps of his childhood bounded.

There were tears, that fell from manly eyes,
There was woman's gentle weeping,
And the wailing of age and infant cries,
O'er the grave, where he lies sleeping.

He had left his home in his spirit's pride,
With his father's sword and blessing;
He stood with the valiant, side by side,
His country's wrongs redressing.

He came again, in the light of his fame,
When the red campaign was over;
One heart, that, in secret, had kept his name,
Was claimed by the soldier lover.

But the cloud of strife came upon the sky;-
He left his sweet home for battle;
Left his young child's lisp for the loud war-cry,
And the cannon's long death-rattle.

He came again - but an altered man:
The path of the grave was before him,
And the smile, that he wore, was cold and wan,
For the shadow of death hung o'er him.

He spoke of victory - spoke of cheer:-
These are the words, that are vainly spoken
To the childless mother, or orphan's ear,
Or the widow, whose heart is broken.

A helmet and sword are engraved on the stone,
Half hidden by yonder willow;
There he sleeps, whose death in battle was won,
But he died on his own home pillow.

poem by Letitia Elizabeth Landon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rainy Day Women #12 & 35

Well, they'll stone ya when you're trying to be so good,
They'll stone ya just a-like they said they would.
They'll stone ya when you're tryin' to go home.
Then they'll stone ya when you're there all alone.
But i would not feel so all alone,
Everybody must get stoned.
Well, they'll stone ya when you're walkin' 'long the street.
They'll stone ya when you're tryin' to keep your seat.
They'll stone ya when you're walkin' on the floor.
They'll stone ya when you're walkin' to the door.
But i would not feel so all alone,
Everybody must get stoned.
They'll stone ya when you're at the breakfast table.
They'll stone ya when you are young and able.
They'll stone ya when you're tryin' to make a buck.
They'll stone ya and then they'll say, "good luck."
Tell ya what, i would not feel so all alone,
Everybody must get stoned.
Well, they'll stone you and say that it's the end.
Then they'll stone you and then they'll come back again.
They'll stone you when you're riding in your car.
They'll stone you when you're playing your guitar.
Yes, but i would not feel so all alone,
Everybody must get stoned.
Well, they'll stone you when you walk all alone.
They'll stone you when you are walking home.
They'll stone you and then say you are brave.
They'll stone you when you are set down in your grave.
But i would not feel so all alone,
Everybody must get stoned.

song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My mother was fortune, my father generosity and bounty

My mother was fortune, my father generosity and bounty; I
am joy, son of joy, son of joy, son of joy.
Behold, the Marquis of Glee has attainted felicity; this city and
plain are filled with soldiers and drums and flags.
If I encounter a wolf, he becomes moonfaced Joseph; if I go
down into a well, it converts into a Garden of Eram.
He whose heart is as iron and stone out of miserliness is now
changed before me into a Hatem of the age in generosity and
bounty.
Dust becomes gold and pure silver in my hand; how then
should the temptation of gold and silver waylay me?
I have an idol such that, were his sweet scent scattered
abroad, even an idol of stone would receive life through joy.
Sorrow has died for joy in him of “may God bind your consolation”;
how should not such a sword strike the neck of sorrow?
By tyranny he seizes the soul of whom he desires; justices are
all slaves of such injustice and tyranny.
What is that mole on that face? Should it manifest itself, out
of desire for it forthwith maternal aunt would be estranged from
paternal [uncle].
I said, “If I am done and send my story, will you finish it and
expound it?” He answered, “Yes.”

poem by Rumi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Horseman of Conquest

He rides the fields triumphant, in armor plated gold
His horse a great white stallion, it's rider ever bold
He is the Horseman Conquest, for power does he lust
He cares not for honor, goodness, or even being just
He cares rides to war for power, to make the world his own
He dreams only of riches, a jewel encrusted throne
His sword is swift and mighty, though corrupt his soul may be
He commands a mighty army, who obey every decree
He dreams only for power, rides to war for gold
He rules from an ivory tower, where he keeps fortunes untold
The mighty King of Conquest, the Horsemen filled with greed
In golden plated armor, he rides his mighty steed
He fights for gold and plunder, he wields a mighty sword
He rides to war for power, backed by his mighty hoard
Every king of every nation, must bow before his throne
He will never stop, until the world is all his own

poem by Tim Vallie
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Requiescat

Under the stone you behold,
Buried, and coffined, and cold,
Lieth Sir Wilfrid the Bold.

Always he marched in advance,
Warring in Flanders and France,
Doughty with sword and with lance.

Famous in Saracen fight,
Rode in his youth the good knight,
Scattering Paynims in flight.

Brian the Templar untrue,
Fairly in tourney he slew,
Saw Hierusalem too.

Now he is buried and gone,
Lying beneath the gray stone:
Where shall you find such a one?

Long time his widow deplored,
Weeping the fate of her lord,
Sadly cut off by the sword.

When she was eased of her pain,
Came the good Lord Athelstane,
When her ladyship married again.

poem by William Makepeace Thackeray
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Arthur Pendragon About Excalibur

I am confident, they say a sword is
just a sword, but that is not really true
when I draw great Excalibur it hiss,
gleams with a silver-blue kind of strange hue,
without any type of wavering
cuts right through bronze and iron, slices on
and it is a very strange kind of thing
all my fears and doubts of battle are gone;
as it came right out of the hardest stone.

poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pride Of Man

Turn around go back down go back the way you came
Cant you see the flash of fire ten times brighter than the day
And behold the mighty city broken in the dust again
Oh God the pride of man broken in the dust again
Turn around go back down go back the way you came
Babylon is laid to waste egypts buried in her shame
Their mighty men are beaten down the kings are fallen in the ways
Oh God the pride of man broken in the dust again
Turn around go back down go back the way you came
Terror is on everyside though the leaders are dismayed
Those who put their faith in fire in fire their faith shall be repaid
Oh God the pride of man broken in the dust again
Turn around go back down go back the way you came
Shout a warning to the nations that the sword of God is raised
On babylon that mighty city rich in treasure wide in fame
It shall cause thy towers to fall and make it be a pyre of flame
Oh God the pride of man broken in the dust again
Thou that dwell on many water rich in treasure wide in fame
Bow unto a God of gold thy pride of might shall be thy shame
Oh God the pride of man broken in the dust again
And only God can lead the people back into the faith again
Thy holy mountain be restored thy mercy on thy people lord

song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pride Of Man

Turn around,
go back down,
back the way you came,
Can't you see that flash of fire ten times brighter than the day?
And behold a mighty city broken in the dust again,
Oh God, Pride of Man, broken in the dust again.
Turn around,
go back down,
back the way you came,
Babylon is laid to waste, Egypt's buried in her shame,
The mighty men are all beaten down, their kings are fallen in the ways,
Oh God, Pride of Man, broken in the dust again.
Turn around,
go back down,
back the way you came,
Terror is on every side, lo our leaders are dismayed.
For those who place their faith in fire, their faith in fire shall be
repaid,
Oh God, Pride of Man, broken in the dust again.
Turn around,
go back down,
back the way you came,
And shout a warning unto the nation that the sword of God is raised.
Yes, Babylon, that mighty city, rich in treasures, wide in fame,
Oh God, Pride of Man, broken in the dust again.
The meek shall cause your tower to fall, make of you a pyre of flame,
Oh you who dwell on many waters, rich in treasures, wide in fame.
you bow unto your God of gold, your pride of might shall be a shame,
For only God can lead His people back unto the Earth again.
Oh God, Pride of Man, broken in the dust again.
A Holy mountain be restored, and mercy on that people, that people

song performed by by Quicksilver Messenger Service
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The mighty coward

He was called the king of zanga,
his physique so built he's glaring with danger.
He lost his banter, now frowning with fire
his eyes red and strong, he's glowing with anger.

He found great pleasure in oppressing the weak,
they tremble in fear, for he threatens to kill.
He was seen as a mighty warlord,
for he was good with the sword.

He goes all over impossing fear.
wherever he goes, he lives a sign of death.
His palace is filled with skulls
of those slain by his sword,
and he smiles with bliss after tasting their blood.

But soon after, his rulling days were ended
for he became a coward in the sight of death.
He lost courage at the battle field,
his hands trembling, losing his sword.

His mighty heart had fled,
his terror rage quenched.
He saw a warrior like beast and was scared
trying to run, his head was cut off from his neck.

Now the great terror is no more,
for hiss terror days was ended on the battle field.
The mighty warrioir died a mighty coward,
for his fear got him slain by that warrior like beast.

poem by Randy Micheal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Stepping Stones

Baby youve been up, broken down
Every man knows your name in this whole damn town
In every bar they know your drink, what should I think
I turned around to look and you gave some dude a wink
I thought Id be happy with a woman like you,
But you walked on my pride and my manhood too
I dont know too much but one thing I know
A man stuck on you is like a stepping stone
Because you keep using me like a stepping stone
Because you keep using me like a stepping stone
Because you keep using me like a stepping stone
Because you keep using me like a stepping stone
What you forgot to mention, what was your real intention
Did you want a man to love, or someone to prop and carry you up
To a higher status, but the matter of fact is, your detachment
Will bring you further down and now youre all used up
Dont bother coming round
Because you keep using me like a stepping stone
Because you keep using me like a stepping stone
Because you keep using me like a stepping stone
Because you keep using me like a stepping stone
Well, I remember back to waht you put me thru
I keep thinking to myself
Whats wrong with you
Aint it enough to have a man for a lover and a friend
Tear him up and leave him when the moneys spent
Well, youre just like delilah sittin in her den
You take the strongest man and break em down again
But I have gained some knowledge
Go on pack your things and move back to college
Because you keep using me like a stepping stone
Because you keep using me like a stepping stone
Because you keep using me like a stepping stone
Because you keep using me like a stepping stone

song performed by by G. Love & Special Sauce
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To be a man is, precisely, to be responsible. It is to feel shame at the sight of what seems to be unmerited misery. It is to take pride in a victory won by one's comrades. It is to feel, when setting one's stone, that one is contributing to the building of the world.

quote by Antoine de Saint-Exupery
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Warriors Of Faith

They search the desert plains
In the land of no return
To seek out the danger, time to burn
They are the rightous ones
Theyve come to claim this land
Like warriors under command
They fight for gold and glory
Proclaim the dead man's land
Into the dungeons they must go
To find the answers, left untold
Under the burning sun
In danger, eye to eye
They all now that someone must die
Into the well theyre falling
Past immortality
Led by temptation and devotion
Rendered deathless by the touch of the sword
Onwards victory, let us hear your battle cry
The enemies, will renounce or die
Hail the warriors of faith
Together they march through the fire
Forever theyre lost in this world
Onwards victory, let us hear your battle cry
The enemies, will renounce or die
Eternally, they will fall under the sign
Of victory, fighting all for one
Hail the the warriors of faith

song performed by by Hammerfall
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Silence Of Stone (revised)

take a stone,
from the beginning it was
a stone in form
and color and smell

and stone to stone
it shall be stone
unless you take it
in your hand
and keep it warm
in the hold of your palm
and take it home with you

you talk to it
and then it becomes
beyond itself

now
it is not just a stone
but your beloved
your lover

you will discover
that its silence also speaks
in tongues

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Existence First, Then Essence

take a stone,
from the beginning it was
a stone in form
and color and smell

and stone to stone
it shall be stone
unless you take it
in your hand
and keep it warm
in the hold of your palm
and take it home with you

you talk to it
and then it becomes
beyond itself

now
it is not just a stone
but your beloved
your lover

you will discover
that its silence also speaks
in tongues

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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