Elegy for Irving Layton
Irving had it right:
'Me, happiest when I compose poems...'
His Books of Formation
Magic, Holy
This day I now so clearly see
So wise the Master
Boundless plenty
Graciously imparting
his immeasurable legacy
untold generations
I at his feet
among innumerable many
borrowed your recordings
for the world to hear
poetic homage
half circle
Too much, too soon
I so jealously grateful
less than minor distant minion
glint squinting
in your glory
MR Layton.
poem by Randy Resh
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12 Midnight
Now the master sleeps
Leaving you some of his poems
Now it is midnight
Now the master has to sleep
Take care yourselves
Take care of his poems
They are now yours,
All his disciples
The master sleeps.
Now, see, how the master breathes
Listen to the rhythm of his sighs
Some poems are coming out from
His nostrils some poems are coming out
From his mouth and ears
The master poet is asleep
Even in dreams he weaves some images
Dreamy, surreal, ephemeral, his sleep
Has rhyme & rhythm, he is a soul breathing
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Dirty Irving
He once could care less who felt what.
And he strutted with such arrogance.
He had struggled to get up off his butt!
And he became cold as he grew older.
Exposing a boldness.
With a chip on his shoulder.
He sought the weaknesses of others,
To remind him of those he had!
He showed no empathy to them at all.
He thought the worse of them.
And this made him glad.
Dirty Irving was a hustler.
He knew the street quite well.
Dirty Irving was quick,
To call anyone a bitch!
Hiding the fact...
He himself was bewitched.
Bothered and quite insecure.
Feeling he could endure,
A self imposed hell.
Dirty Irving met his match.
Someone like himself...
That was detached.
But that attracted him!
Like a sin delighting a whim.
And dirty Irving became deserving...
When his desires were from him kept back!
He exposed his heart and the depth he had.
He pleaded to be given...
Temptations that drove him to the edge,
Believing he could not be driven this 'mad'.
And one day dirty Irving decided to abandon his ways.
Dirty Irving found himself serving subservience.
Victimized by sex and drugs!
By the one who kept him 'whipped'.
And treated him as a possession.
As a slave.
And dirty Irving stayed that way.
Like a puppy who now obeys!
Today wherever dirty Irving is seen...
His 'master' is nearby.
Knowing who commands,
Dirty Irving's dreams!
And it seems this is the life...
Dirty Irving appreciates and likes!
'Subservience? '
Who knows?
Maybe he's a bottom kind of guy!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Two Wise Men
there is a legacy, an old legacy of two books
the old books of ancient
the ancient wisdom
of two men
two wise men
with good hearts
and good minds
one by name of Luqman
and the other man
is the great porphet-king Solomon
I didn't find these two books
but I found
THe wise words
of these two men
The songs
of wisdom's book
pouring from the heaven
to the heart
the MAN with NO FAITH in ALLAH
is NO MAN
BE faithful then your illness is all gone
THere is holy obligation upon man
care for parents as they care
then be fair free from bias
upon your self
upon your men
or your enemy
you will win; then and ofter
in this life
and thereafter
poem by Sallam Yassin
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More Beautiful
Live in the moment. Experience the present.
Breathe in the perfume of freshly bloomed flowers.
Be conscious of the poetry of existence all around you.
Compose your poems on trees and rocks and flower petals.
Be the poem, be the flower.
Compose your poems on human souls
That will live in the heart of God for eternity.
You’ve never had anything but this moment,
Perceive it as beautiful and make it more beautiful.
poem by Uriah Hamilton
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What you compose with is neither here nor there, you compose with words, or you compose with stone plants and trees, or you compose with events; the Sheriff's officer, or whatever.
quote by Ian Hamilton Finlay
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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And after I compose my programs, but it is very easy because I look to the music in a very natural way without fuss, and so I look always music, in my home, like books and books and books, choose books and you read the pages, so I do this with music, and I make programs.
quote by Victoria de los Angeles
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Me Wise Magic
Me wise magic
I know what youre feelin
What youre feeling is easy to see.
I know what youre dreamin
I have those same dreams.
Woa.. reachin for the beat again.
Lookin for a sign.
It was right here all the time, time, time, time...
I am you and you are me.
Do you believe?
Dont you trust me? me wise magic
Ow! baby its all right.
If you could see
Through my eyes, me wise magic
I feel you breathin
Dont you trust me...(trust me)
I feel you agreein
I know what you need
(whoa) dont you lie
Just you listen thru me
My words at best to you
A fortune coo coo cookie
(who are you and where are we? )
Do you believe?
Dont you trust me? me wise magic
Yeah yeah! woahohoh!
If you could see
See through my eyes, me wise magic
A little zen headed your way
Youll get it
Halfway down the interstate
Four days from now
It all goes clear
A buddhist riff for your inner ear
song performed by by Van Halen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Congratulations Irving
YOU HAVE GIVEN AMERICA A CHANCE TO SING ALONG,
WITH FIFTEEN HUNDRED STRONG,
OH, WHAT BEAUTIFUL SONGS,
THANKS IRVING, AMERICA IS SO BLESSED THAT YOU CAME ALONG,
I CAN'T SAY ENOUGH ABOUT THIS GREAT MAN. YES, A LETTER TO IRVING BERLIN,
ONE OF AMERICA'S GREATEST GENIUSES,
YOU HAVE PROVEN THAT SONGS LIKE,
WHITE CHRISTMAS, GOD BLESS AMERICA AND SO MANY MORE,
THANK YOU IRVING BERLIN FOR MAKING AMERICA SO RICH IN SONGS. CONGRATULATIONS IRVING ON YOUR 100TH BIRTHDAY,
AND MAY YOU HAVE MANY, MANY MORE.
THANK YOU IRVING FOR ALL THE GREAT MOVIES,
SONGS YOU HAVEN WRITTEN.
CONGRATULATIONS AGAIN IRVING AND MAY GOD BLESS
YOU AND KEEP YOU IN GOOD HEALTH.
poem by Jr. Lem Poteete
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We Need Poems To Make Us Love Life More
WE NEED POEMS TO MAKE US LOVE LIFE MORE
We need poems to make us love life more
Poems that will make us happier
Poems that will make us kinder, better people.
We need poems that will inspire us
That will add to our sense of the world’s Beauty
We need Poems that will make us love others as we love ourselves as we love God.
We need holy poems
And joyful poems
And blessed poems
And kind poems
We need poems which will make us love life more
Which will help us love others and ourselves more
God more
We need poems.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Here I Come-4
Holy holy is He
So merciful
Lion and King
Wonderful Counselor
Holy holy
Holy holy is He
Holy holy is He
Forever holy.
Most High God
Holy holy
Prince of Peace
Mighty Redeemer
King of Kings
Most High God
Holy holy
Holy holy is He
Holy holy is He
Forever holy.
Take my sins
As far as the east
Is from the west
Purge me
With your precious blood
Shelter me
From the storms
Cover me
With your glory
Holy holy
Holy holy is He
Holy holy is He
Forever holy.
You are so holy
You went to the cross
For me
So holy
You bled for me
So holy
You paid a price
I could not pay
Holy holy
Holy holy is He
Holy holy is He
Forever holy.
poem by Buxton Shippy
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The necessity of luxury
and what at some other time
I’d call a luxury – or others would –
it’s not, it’s – oh – rightness -
used rightly...
like now, aslant in the reclining chair,
the patio door open just enough
to bring air into the room,
March air which feels like the most
precious commodity, substance, gift, grace,
where, how, could I say;
and the book of poetry held loosely,
glanced at occasionally;
some phrases, some words, of Tom’s
growing timelessly, flowering,
seeding a generosity of new poems
too formless to call mine
but the warmth of his heart
makes mine to expand, and
boundless now; the mind too, boundless;
a boundlessness of poetry;
then, now, always; so that
in this moment, heart, mind, poetry, boundless,
there’s complete liberation;
beyond luxury, beyond necessity
and poems may or may not be,
for being’s all…
poem by Michael Shepherd
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I Know That Its Magic
Im amazed at things you, you do it all with ease
I smile while everything you do, drives me to my knees
cos I know that its magic, and I know that its magic
Yes, I know that its magic, in everything you try to do
Many times I see ahead, Ill have to make a stand
Maybe I can call on you, I know youd understand
cos I know that its magic, and I know that its magic
Yes, I know that its magic, in everything you try to do
cos I know that its magic, and I know that its magic
Yes, I know that its magic, in everything you try to do
cos I know that its magic, and I know that its magic
Yes, I know that its magic, and I know that its magic
song performed by by Rick Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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From Your Lips Pour Honey
Musical talents your angel is wise
for the heavens with taste lent you
graceful thoughts never to hide
now playing them all.
Lips that he holds maybe another are
blessed with a finger to
trace them magic
flows.
No my poems arnt magic my words
will never loose you such as when
I hearinto you now.
Yet you do me great wrong thinking your
beauty of song sends no sliver of
light through my soul.
poem by Is It Poetry
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Critics Have Appeared
critics have appeared
in these cyber times
hunting for poems
and passing wise words
on poems they swallow in seconds
and whose comments are like puke;
and whose own gems of poems when you seek
it turns out, they have not published any
at the very poetry portals where they pass such magnificent judgment…
O Ye Critics who hunt for poems
come back another day
when you have poems some of your very own…
poem by Raj Arumugam
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Strange Magic
Youre sailing softly through the sun
In a broken stone age dawn.
You fly so high.
I get a strange magic,
Oh, what a strange magic,
Oh, its a strange magic.
Got a strange magic,
Got a strange magic.
Youre walking meadows in my mind,
Making waves across my time,
Oh no, oh no.
I get a strange magic,
Oh, what a strange magic,
Oh, its a strange magic.
Got a strange magic,
Got a strange magic.
Oh, Im never gonna be the same again,
Now Ive seen the way its got to end,
Sweet dream, sweet dream.
Strange magic,
Oh, what a strange magic,
Oh, its a strange magic.
Got a strange magic,
Got a strange magic.
Its magic, its magic, its magic.
Strange magic,
Oh, what a strange magic,
Oh, its a strange magic.
Got a strange magic.
Strange magic strange magic
Oh, what a strange magic strange magic
Oh, its a strange magic.
Got a strange magic.
Strange magic strange magic
Oh, what a strange magic strange magic
Oh, its a strange magic.
Got a strange magic,
Got a strange magic,
You know I got a strange magic,
Yeah, I got a strange magic,
Oo-o-o-oo, strange magic. (fade)
song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Know I Have A Copy Somewhere
Wherever you may choose to look
You're guaranteed to find a book.
Perhaps a murder mystery.
Anthologies of poetry
Reference books and picture books.
Books on witchcraft and black magic
Tomes on almost any topic.
Some by authors long since dead.
Books which try to look ahead.
Books of every shape and size.
As I have come to realise.
Enough to start a library
Though jumbled up haphazardly.
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Wolfpack
Howling the pack in formation appears
Diamonds and clubs, light misted fog, the dead
Waving us back in formation,
The pack in formation
Bowling they bat as a group
And the leader is seen - so early...
The pack on their backs, the fighters
Through misty the waving - the pack in formation
Far reaching waves
On sight, shone right
I lay as if in surround...
All enmeshing, hovering...
The milder I gaze
All the animals laying trail
Beyond the bough winds
Mild the reflecting electricity eyes...
Tears, the life that was ours
Grows sharper and stronger away and beyond
Short wheeling - fresh spring
Gripped with blanched bones - moaned
Magnesium, proverbs and sobs...
Howling the pack in formation appears
Diamonds and clubs, light misted fog, the dead
Waving us back in formation,
The pack in formation...
song performed by by Pink Floyd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Prelude To A Kiss
Duke ellington / irving gordon / irving mills
If you hear a song in blue like a flower crying for the dew
That was my heart serenading you
My prelude to a kiss
If you hear a song that grows from my tender sentimental woes
That was my heart trying to compose
A prelude to a kiss
Though its just a simple melody with nothing fancy, nothing much
You could turn it to a simphony a schubert tune with a gershwin touch
Oh! how my love song gently cries for the tenderness within your eyes
My love is a prelude that never dies
A prelude to a kiss.
song performed by by Billie Holiday
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sarcasm
Can't compose a rhyme?
Don't have the time?
My brain's gone dead?
What's that you said?
Now don't be rude,
Or be downright crude,
I'm not brain dead
If that's what you said.
Inspiration is nil,
Probably this chill,
Been with me for days,
Have been living in a haze.
Tomorrow I'll try
To find a reply,
To your 'funny' jokes,
But at the moment it chokes
Me up, but I'll be
OK again you'll see,
And I will compose
A profusion of prose,
Then my poems will win through
And the joke will be on you.
So go play with your trains,
Which won't require brains!
poem by Ernestine Northover
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The happiest people are those who think the most interesting thoughts. Those who decide to use leisure as a means of mental development, who love good music, good books, good pictures, good company, good conversation, are the happiest people in the world. And they are not only happy in themselves, they are the cause of happiness in others.
quote by William Lyon Phelps
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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