After Love
There is no magic any more,
We meet as other people do,
You work no miracle for me
Nor I for you.
You were the wind and I the sea --
There is no splendor any more,
I have grown listless as the pool
Beside the shore.
But though the pool is safe from storm
And from the tide has found surcease,
It grows more bitter than the sea,
For all its peace.
poem by Sara Teasdale
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Peace
Peace flows into me
As the tide to the pool by the shore;
It is mine forevermore,
It will not ebb like the sea.
I am the pool of blue
That worships the vivid sky;
My hopes were heaven-high,
They are all fulfilled in you.
I am the pool of gold
When sunset burns and dies --
You are my deepening skies;
Give me your stars to hold.
poem by Sara Teasdale
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The Hurricane
"We are the birds of the coming storm." — August Spies
The tide is out, the wind blows off the shore;
Bare burn the white sands in the scorching sun;
The sea complains, but its great voice is low.
Bitter thy woes, O People,
And the burden
Hardly to be borne!
Wearily grows, O People,
All the aching
Of thy pierced heart, bruised and torn!
But yet thy time is not,
And low thy moaning.
Desert thy sands!
Not yet is thy breath hot,
Vengefully blowing;
It wafts o'er lifted hands.
The tide has turned; the vane veers slowly round;
Slow clouds are sweeping o'er the blinding light;
White crests curl on the sea— its voice grows deep.
Angry thy heart, O People!
And its bleeding
Fire-tipped with rising hate!
Thy clasped hands part, O People,
For thy praying
Warmed not the desolate!
God did not hear thy moan:
Now it is swelling
To a great drowning cry;
A dark wind-cloud, a groan,
Now backward veering
From that deaf sky!
The tide flows in, the wind roars from the depths,
The whirled-White sand heaps with the foam-white waves;
Thundering the sea rolls o'er its shell-crunched wall!
Strong is thy rage, O People,
In its fury
Hurling thy tyrants down!
Thou metest wage, O People.
Very swiftly,
Now that thy hate is grown:
Thy time at last is come;
Thou heapest anguish,
Where thou thyself wert bare!
No longer to thy dumb.
God clasped and kneeling.
Thou answerest thine own prayer.
poem by Voltairine de Cleyre (1889)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Ebb
I know what my heart is like
Since your love died:
It is like a hollow ledge
Holding a little pool
Left there by the tide,
A little tepid pool,
Drying inward from the edge.
poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay
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Whirl pool
Whirl pool
On lake...
At through the stones...
water...
Rund rund...
Arund...
Whirl pool...
A Simply beauty...
The rain drops on
On pool water...
Many many
Little...little...
whirl pool
Run and rund to be...
Play the pool...
It was nature wool
With cool...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Everything Is Nothing!
Everything is nothing,
Nothing is everything,
Everything is Truth and Truth is everything,
All come from a pool and remain in the pool,
fool is that Truth which identifies itself with some fool,
When fool is grown enough to know the pool,
And can see beyond,
He sees he is that,
He is that,
he is that nothing
Thinking on nothing!
Nothing can exist as it is!
Remain in the pool,
Coming and going is that illusion!
Raising and falling as waves of unidentifiable formless energy,
Taking forms with different blends of its own forms,
Truth is that which bestows an atom to absorb the ocean
And Truth is that truth fools itself with wrong identification!
Then every breath is meditation,
Stopping train of thoughts,
Seeing all in true colour,
Remains as everything and nothing in his own nature!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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Bleeding In A Pool Of Shame
Some people are prone to condon,
Their distasteful behavior.
To make any claim whatsoever,
With a justifying of their misdeeds.
And this they do,
With a censoring done to others.
With attitudes they will excuse.
As a standard of values,
They monitor to ensure...
Others they choose to suppress,
Keep endeared and respected.
Some people are prone to condon,
Their distasteful behavior.
To make any claim whatsoever,
With a justifying of their misdeeds.
Only to witness their own credibility,
Bleeding in a pool of shame.
No matter what it is that the cruel people do,
They'll be bleeding in a pool of shame.
And no matter what the evilness people may choose,
They'll be bleeding in a pool of shame.
No matter what deceitful people choose what they do.
They'll be bleeding in a pool of shame.
No matter what those evil people choose for you,
They'll be bleeding in a pool of shame.
No matter what it is that the cruel people do,
They'll be bleeding in a pool of shame.
And no matter what the evilness people may choose,
They'll be bleeding in a pool of shame.
No matter what deceitful people choose what they do.
They'll be bleeding in a pool of shame.
No matter what those evil people choose for you,
They'll be bleeding in a pool of shame.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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London Pool
London Pool's in London town,
Ay, boys! O boys!
London Pool's in London town,
Where the great ships anchor down!
O to shake the canvas free,
Hear the cordage cheerily
Whistling to the open sea
Down from London Pool, O!
London Pool's a crowded place,
Ay, boys! O boys!
London Pool's a crowded place,
Crafts and crews of every race!
O to hear the clanking chain
Trail along the wharf again, -
Hear the tautening ropes astrain
Down from London Pool, O!
London Pool's a gallant sight,
Ay, boys! O boys!
London Pool's a gallant sight,
Toil by day and glare by night!
O to shake our heels and go, -
Feel the four free winds ablow,
Hail the lights of long ago
Down from London Pool, O!
poem by Cicely Fox Smith
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The Dragon of the Black Pool
Deep the waters of the Black Pool, colored like ink;
They say a Holy Dragon lives there, whom men have never seen.
Beside the Pool they have built a shrine; the authorities
have established a ritual;
A dragon by itself remains a dragon, but men can make it a god.
Prosperity and disaster, rain and drought, plagues and pestilences—
By the village people were all regarded as the Sacred Dragon’s doing.
They all made offerings of sucking-pig and poured libations of wine;
The morning prayers and evening gifts depended on a “medium’s” advice.
When the dragon comes, ah!
The wind stirs and sighs
Paper money thrown, ah!
Silk umbrellas waved.
When the dragon goes, ah!
The wind also—still.
Incense-fire dies, ah !
The cups and vessels are cold.
Meats lie stacked on the rocks of the Pool’s shore;
Wine flows on the grass in front of the shrine.
I do not know, of all those offerings, how much the Dragon eats;
But the mice of the woods and the foxes of the hills are continually drunk and sated.
Why are the foxes so lucky?
What have the sucking-pigs done,
That year by year they should be killed, merely to glut the foxes?
That the foxes are robbing the Sacred Dragon and eating His sucking-pig,
Beneath the nine-fold depths of His pool, does He know or not?
Still Life
Dave Murray, Steve Harris
Take a look in the pool and what do you see
In the dark depths there faces beckoning me
Can't you see them it's plain for all to see
They were there oh I know you don't believe me.
Oh...I've never felt so strange
But...I'm not going insane.
I've no doubt that you think I'm off my head
You don't say but it's in your eyes instead
Hours I spend out just gazing into that pool
Something draws me there I don't know what to do.
Oh...they drain my strength away
Oh...they're asking me to stay.
Nightmares...spirits calling me
Nightmares...they won't leave me be.
All my life's blood is slowly draining away
And I feel that I'm weaker every day
Somehow I know I haven't long to go
Joining them at the bottom of the pool.
Now...I feel they are so near
I...begin to see them clear
Nightmares...coming all the time
Nightmares...Will give me peace of mind.
Now it's clear and I know what I have to do
I must take you down there to look at them too
Hand in hand then we'll jump right into the pool
Can't you see not just me they want you too.
Oh...we'll drown together
It...will be forever.
Nightmares...forever calling me
Nightmares...Now we rest in peace.
song performed by by Iron Maiden
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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By Loe Pool
The pool glitters, the fishes leap in the sun
With joyous fins, and dive in the pool again;
I see the corn in sheaves, and the harvestmen,
And the cows coming down to the water one by one.
Dragon-flies mailed in lapis and malachite
Flash through the bending reeds and blaze on the pool;
Sea-ward, where trees cluster, the shadow is cool;
I hear a singing, where the sea is, out of sight;
It is noontide, and the fishes leap in the pool.
poem by Arthur Symons
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Africa with Magic and Miracle
The magic of africa is in africa
magic shine only in your heart
while miracle shine all around
your life
magic magic magic
magic are not real
magic cann't save life
than death yet some come every
now and then
looting stealing
our magic with happiness
unknowing to them that
magic are not real
miracle miracle miracle
miracle is full of joyfulness
africans remain joyfull because
of the greatness in miracle
miracle cann't be stolen
miracle is not a property
that can be stolen
africans rejoice
magic can go
but miracle remain miracle
magic is happiness while
miracle is joyfulness
Africa africa africa
joyfulness is better
than happiness.
Thank you africa
poem by Senator alufalism
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Gibar Magic
A young magic man saw there was
no mountains left by this
land cos of man’s destruction
So he blow magic and said
Bajeirjeir jungamu
be there a mountain in front of me
And there was a great mountain
where people gather at the body
of it, to dance from grass
trees and animal lives
So it rained and water came
down from the mountain creating
a foundation of harmony
Then after many years a
big storm come rushing
flood flowed over every hut
and lightning hit trees causing
fires, everything was like
a bombed land where people
are helpless and the mountain
was dying, then the young
magic man came back
from his travels and sang
out to the people, here here
live in a Nala Nala
it is a hole, where you will be
safe for a while
Now here the magic man
gave a powerful blowing
magic that all storm wind
and flood waters lightning
disappeared and cool air
became fresh cleaner and
the people and animals came
out giving thanks to this
young magic man.
And he heard their thanks and
smiled and a smile you will
see in any Aboriginal
poem by Lionel Fogarty
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Stepping On the Shore
Wind and sea,
Leaves me adrift.
With this warmth...
Sitting in my heart so grounded.
And I have found a storm outside,
I ride.
Knowing my faith,
Smooths the waves.
And the clouds and thunder fade.
And the Sun comes to hold me close.
Stepping onto the shore.
I feel the sand...
Beneath my feet.
I am safe,
And at peace.
Released from fear...
I am home!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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You were like a angel surrounded with sunshine
In the pool of the fountain
the sky reflect cobalt blue
and shadows fall over the inner court
and there are images sprouting up
whirling in my brain about you and me
in the pool of the fountain
and you were like a angel surrounded with sunshine
and dripping wet we embraced each other there
and shadows fall over the inner court
and even the wind blows with a chorus
and there are pure white lilies that I look at,
in the pool of the fountain
and the time with you was noble, was totally pure
or so everybody was thinking and we kept the countenance of it
and shadows fall over the inner court
drawing the two of us, line after line
and the sky is now reflecting dull blue
in the pool of the fountain
and shadows fall over the inner court.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Moonlight Sestina
While reading Li Po, I fall
Asleep, and dream of the moon
My body lies on white
Cool sheets, flooded in a pool
Of moonlight. Lost in a dream
I lie in light, floating.
Like a full moon floating
On waves, I feel the fall
And rise, the tide of these dream
Currents. Closer, the moon
Approaches to my pool
Of flesh, shining me white.
From the glare of waxing white,
Gauze curtains – breeze floating -
Shield this rippling pool,
Become a waterfall,
And break the mirror moon-
Light through wet prisms, I dream.
Is this Shechinah? my dream
Self asks. At once the cold white
Chills me to ice. The moon
Swells until it's a floating
City, waiting to fall -
Atlantis – in the pool.
I yearn to be that pool
Skin, transparent as dream.
Instead I fear the moon fall:
I cannot part the white
Sea of thighs, Still floating
Whole, I cry to the moon:
“I am not ready, Moon”
Silence shimmers my pool,
But brightness fades, Floating
Away. Then from the dream
I emerge, weeping white
Tears that shine like star-fall.
Li Po's moon plunge sank dream
Deep. Whirlpool of lunar white
Drowns us; floating, we fall.
poem by Lillian Susan Thomas
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The Goal
I have found joy,
Surcease from sorrow,
From qualms for today
And fears for tomorrow.
I have found love,
Sifted of pain,
Of life's harsh goading
And worldly disdain.
I have found peace,
Still-borne from grief,
From soul's bitter mocking
And heart's unbelief.
Now may I rest,
Soul-glad and free,
For Lord, in the travil,
I have found Thee.
poem by Joseph Seamon Cotter
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The Disciple
When Narcissus died the pool of his pleasure changed from a cup of
sweet waters into a cup of salt tears, and the Oreads came weeping
through the woodland that they might sing to the pool and give it
comfort.
And when they saw that the pool had changed from a cup of sweet
waters into a cup of salt tears, they loosened the green tresses of
their hair and cried to the pool and said, 'We do not wonder that
you should mourn in this manner for Narcissus, so beautiful was
he.'
'But was Narcissus beautiful?' said the pool.
'Who should know that better than you?' answered the Oreads. 'Us
did he ever pass by, but you he sought for, and would lie on your
banks and look down at you, and in the mirror of your waters he
would mirror his own beauty.'
And the pool answered, 'But I loved Narcissus because, as he lay on
my banks and looked down at me, in the mirror of his eyes I saw
ever my own beauty mirrored.'
poem by Oscar Wilde
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Twisting By The Pool
Were going on a holiday now
Gonna take a villa, a small chalet
On the costa del magnifico
Where the cost of living is so low
Yeah, were gonna be so neat
Dance to the eurobeat
Yeah, were gonna be so cool
Twisting by the pool
Sitting in a small cafe now
Swing, swing, swingin to the cabaret
You wanna see a movie, take in a show now
Meet new people at the disco
Yeah, were gonna be so neat
Dance to the eurobeat
Yeah, were gonna be so cool
Twisting by the pool
And we can still get information
Reading all about inflation
And youre never gonna be out of reach
Theres a call-box on the beach
Mmm, youre gonna look so cute
Sunglasses and bathing suites
Be the baby of my dreams
Like the ladies in the magazine
Yeah, were gonna be so neat
Dance to the eurobeat
Yeah, were gonna be so cool
Twisting by the pool
Im a twisting fool
Just twisting, yeah twisting
Twisting by the pool
song performed by by Dire Straits
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bells, Pool And Sleep
Bells overbrim with sound
And spread from cupolas
Out through the shaking air
Endless unbreaking circles
Cool and clear as water.
A stone dropped in the water
Opens the lips of the pool
And starts the unovertaking
Rings, till the pool is full
Of waves as the air of bells.
The deep-sea bell of sleep
Under the pool of the mind
Flowers in concentric circles
Of annihilation till
Both sight and sound die out,
Both pool and bells are quelled.
Submitted by Stephen Fryer
poem by Arthur Seymour John Tessimond
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Hues of blue
From the holiday apartment’s window
I see people swimming in the blue pool
and the water looks icy cold
from the dark blue colour
Some girls and women have
bathing caps on in colours
of white, green and blue
and others swim without
while some lie
around the pool.
While the day gets hotter
the colour of the pool changes
to a lighter hue
and just across the road
the beach is full
of people lying in the sun.
Some swim with the waves
breaking white
and some are deeper
in the aquamarine water
and still deeper
some surfers
are riding the waves
the of a navy blue ocean.
poem by Gert Strydom
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