Stumbling
Disaffection
brings out, the black fever.
Stars will chart the inky path.
It was too close
the brazen attack
on sacred rites.
Prejudice
of contents was besides, heavy.
I am going to flee from spaces.
You become a fodder
of white ghost.
Your shadow cleaves in water.
Below the bridge
hangs a tale.
The river had received phosphorescent bodies.
poem by Satish Verma

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The Bridge Who Dreams Of Being A River
the bridge finally
confesses to the river
that in every surge of
the water below it
it experiences what human
males call an erection
it strengthens every
cable that runs inside it
the heavy clouds rain on it
and the sun scorches it with heat
every bridge confesses innocence
to this nonsense
the bridge after all is not what
it is, ...it is still going to be
not just a bridge but soon
when it collapses...a river too.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Rip
It can't be the passing of time that casts
That white shadow across the waters
Just offshore.
I shiver a little, with the evening.
I turn down the steep path to find
What's left of the river gold.
I whistle a dog lazily, and lazily
A bird whistles me.
Close by a big river, I am alive in my own country,
I am home again.
Yes: I lived here, and here, and my name,
That I carved young, with a girl's, is healed over, now,
And lies sleeping beneath the inward sky
Of a tree's skin, close to the quick.
It's best to keep still.
But:
There goes that bird that whistled me down here
To the river a moment ago.
Who is he? A little white barn owl from Hudson's Bay,
Flown out of his range here, and, if he wants to,
He can be the body that casts
That white shadow across the waters
Just offshore.
poem by James Arlington Wright

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Electric Eel Song
Ay! me one child Ay-eeee!
Ay! me one daughter
Take out you’ foot
From the black river water
Haul out you’ hand
Out the slow river water
Stay ‘pon the bank
Of the cold river water
Ay! me one daughter
Ay! me one child! Ay-eeee!
Electric eel
Is the eel in the river
Shadow ‘pon the bottom
Is the eel in the river
Something like you’ hand
Is the eel in the river
Swimming like you’ foot
Is the eel in the river
Ay! me one child Ay-eeee!
Ay! me one daughter
Foot after foot
Though the black river water
She can’t touch the bottom
Out the slow river water
Shirt like umbrella
In the cold river water
Ay! me one daughter
Ay! me one child! Ay-eeee!
Electric eel
Is the eel in the river
Cutlass shape
Is the eel in the river
Black blade or brown
Is the eel in the river
Dozing so quiet
Is the eel in the river
Ay! me one child Ay-eeee!
Ay! me one daughter
Slap of a tail
Through the black river water
Shiver like ague
Out the slow river water
As if she take cramp
Of the cold river water
Ay! me one daughter
Ay! me one child! Ay-eeee!
Electric eel
Is the eel in the river
No blood, just a thrill
Is the eel in the river
Lightning bold
Is the eel in the river
And she Drown now, she chilly
Is the eel in the river
Ay! me one daughter
Ay! me one child! Ay-eeee!
poem by Slade Hopkinson

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12. Moonlight River
Black horse, strolling alone, to the river
He lowers his neck and drinks the water
Black clouds, shading the rays from the sky
White horse, treading alone, to the river
She lowers her neck and drinks the water
Black clouds, fusing the shadow into the night
Gradually the clouds disperse, and the moon
Shines warmly on the black horse
It lifts up its head and looks around
The white horse has disappeared.
(Aug 23,2004)
poem by Eugene Issaus

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Do You Really Want to Know Me?
if you know what a river is
perhaps you will know a man
i am a man and you will say to the river
i have known a man and i have known a river
there is no way that i will never you in full
you shall brag to the clouds in your mind
they drift
there is no permanence
permanence is an illusion
a river
a cloud
water
air
and this is where we must start
educating air
if you step upon my heart and tell me
i have know everything about you and you must not change and that is what you are
you are wrong
for i am a river that encircles a mountain
but i know a path but the paths do not know me
and so i keep on moving
changing paths and what path was it that you have seen yesterday
is no longer the path now
you must accept you have never known a river
because a river is man
and man is not forever man
he is a river that always escapes the hold of your mind
that frame that has walls
without even the possibility of another opening for stars....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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White Shadow
Ten coaches roll into the dust
Chrome windows turned to rust
'hand on inside they know they must
Hanging on the green backed words "in god we trust"
No one knew if the spirit died
All wrapped to go like kentucky fried
Tring to read the flight of birds
Low on fuel, getting low on words
And she comes out like a white shadow
She comes out like a white shadow
Each one drawn to empty spaces
Outsiders, borderline cases
It's hard to tell black from white
When you wake up in the middle of the night
Weighed down by the absence of sound
Broken now by the cry of a hound
Looking for movement withing the haze
Light can be deceptive with her rays
And she comes out like a white sadow
And she comes out like a white shadow
She comes out like a white shadow
song performed by by Peter Gabriel

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Winter Lakes
Out in a world of death far to the northward lying,
Under the sun and the moon, under the dusk and the day;
Under the glimmer of stars and the purple of sunsets dying,
Wan and waste and white, stretch the great lakes away.
Never a bud of spring, never a laugh of summer,
Never a dream of love, never a song of bird;
But only the silence and white, the shores that grow chiller and dumber,
Wherever the ice winds sob, and the griefs of winter are heard.
Crags that are black and wet out of the grey lake looming,
Under the sunset's flush and the pallid, faint glimmer of dawn;
Shadowy, ghost-like shores, where midnight surfs are booming
Thunders of wintry woe over the spaces wan.
Lands that loom like spectres, whited regions of winter,
Wastes of desolate woods, deserts of water and shore;
A world of winter and death, within these regions who enter,
Lost to summer and life, go to return no more.
Moons that glimmer above, waters that lie white under,
Miles and miles of lake far out under the night;
Foaming crests of waves, surfs that shoreward thunder,
Shadowy shapes that flee, haunting the spaces white.
Lonely hidden bays, moon-lit, ice-rimmed, winding,
Fringed by forests and crags, haunted by shadowy shores;
Hushed from the outward strife, where the mighty surf is grinding
Death and hate on the rocks, as sandward and landward it roars.
poem by William Wilfred Campbell

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Black On Black II
Daddy's little soldier boy
Mama's little pride and joy
Both hands on her apron strings
"Don't you touch that dirty thing"
A warning signal from above
Inspection with a clean white glove
They say that opposites attract like right and wrong
Black on black
Like pleasure and a little pain
The sacred and profane
Ice and fire counteract like black on black
The oldest story known to man
The willing sacrificial lamb
Behind the light a shadow falls
The code of silence shakes the walls
A whisper to a silent scream
The power is so frightening
They say that opposites attract like right and wrong
Black on black
Like pleasure and a little pain
The sacred and profane
Ice and fire counteract just like black on black
A warning signal from above
Inspection with a clean white glove
They say that opposites attract like right and wrong
Black on black
Some things seem so sacred
Like a loaded question the power of suggestion
Like the face of danger the kindness of a stranger
Like a Judas Kiss like pleasure and a little pain
I'mmaculate seduction absolute corruption
Ice and fire counteract no turning back like black on black
Black on black.
Black on black
Like pleasure and a little pain
The sacred and profane
Ice and fire counteract like black on black
Like pleasure and a little pain
The sacred and profane
Ice and fire counteract just like black on black
Black
A little pain
Just like black on black
Black
Black on black
Black on black
Black on black
song performed by by Heart from Desire Walks On

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shadow Of The River
As I look around under the shady trees breezy atop the river
Even as the shadows of the tree are seen in it like a mirrror
My curious nature got more of me as i ask myself where is the shadow of the river?
Why does it create shadow for other nature like itself and keep its own shadow hidden?
I said to myself as I look into the river, a glared around into the forest and its horror
And it becomes clear to me that Even the river brings calmness to evil wherever it finds itself.
So i found my answer.
The shadow of the river is in its calmness, the gentle flow that puts your heart to rest even when it overwhelms you.
Its contradiction to body temprature and yet so agreeable.
Under the shady leaves and the calmness around, i have found the shadow of the river.
poem by Yewande Adedokun

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Shadowy nocturne
It is midsummer,
and the nights are hot.
Black horse is strolling along the lake,
trying to delve into another world.
Black horse is rather sad tonight,
the white horse is not following behind,
no one chats with it,
no one plays with it,
only its shadow follows it.
It stops.
looking at the lake quietly.
The moon,
falling on water,
makes it white, inscrutable,
giving the shadow a burnish and a silver plating.
The black horse,
it can not spend its life chasing after shadow,
no matter it is an anguish or elation,
it must have a brave act,
telling the white horse what you feel.
(17th of August,2004)
poem by Trino Chan

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Walking the river
You looked into the eye
of that white hot sun
and found something there
that spoke to your soul,
in your heart and mind
you heard a voice
and thought about the Creator
of the river, sun and sky
and left your car
at the river’s edge
and into the water you went.
That big black great loving dog
was with you
and it was just river and sun
and you walked on
into the water
over boulders, stumbling
over rocks
barefoot and naked
walked through pools
and felt like Eve
and for a time were free
from the burdens of life.
At first your hound
splashed out in front
but later like a shadow
was bound to you,
protecting, guarding
and caring
with wide open brown eyes,
sharp white fangs
and it didn’t understand
where you were going
but loved you more
than to bother about that
or food or heat.
At times it barked
and sometimes it growled,
but nobody dared to get near
and while the shadows draw out
you walked on
right into the night
looking up at the bright stars
and followed the full moon
rising up big and yellow
in that dark sky.
l’Envoi
You heard that river’s song
and just walked on
catching the splashing
and the murmur
over shelves of rock
into some ponds
and somehow during the next day
people found you
who had commonsense
and was sensible
and they helped you
and took care of your dog
and your feet were pierced,
had some blisters
and there were scratches
on your legs
and still the river flows
on to somewhere
and now you are back here.
poem by Gert Strydom

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Shades of Grey
Black is the color of the night
Grey is the shadow of you I sight
White is the shirt you wear
Black is your suit I declare
White is the wall you lean against
Grey is our path I sensed
Black is the memory I lost
Black is the road we never crossed
Grey is the prospect of the day
Grey is the taxi driving away
Black is the truth to never find you
Black is everything I can't undo
Black is my room without light
White is my color of hope in spite
Grey is the circle around my heart
Black is the truth like a work of art
© 2011
poem by Kristina Louisa Carr

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Heavenly Mahanadee Vavroovahana Patra
She is the mother of Plants, animals and all creatures;
Providing cool water contents their desires.
Man produces electricity from water;
Creatures live peacefully deriving the love of Creator.
Through canals she provides water for cultivation;
Peasants smile with delight, enjoy the beauty of creation.
Producing paddy and vegetables live peacefully;
The family smile with prosperity, gaily.
The river is an Abode of Crematoriums;
People of all castes, creeds, colours burnt in the river bed of creation.
Flowers smile on the bank of river;
It contents all poets’ desire.
Shrines of Deities smile on both sides of rivers
The shrine attracts the devotees, contents their desire.
The river is a Paradise of Peace;
All people derive Deities’ Bliss.
Sun God blessth all devotees in morn;
Beauteous looks the Wintery dawn.
Devotees surrender on the feet of Mahadeva;
He is omnipresent, omniscient, omnipotent, Sadasiva.
poem by Vavroovahana Patra

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Summer Fever
Winds may come and the winds may flow
But theres no wind can cool me of my fever, summer fever
Summer fever
Time of love, time of year
Temperatures rising, our bodies near in fever, summer fever
Summer fever
A heat-wave run, a dog-day night
Were making love, things are right, its fever, summer fever
Summer fever
You burn so deep with your love so sweet
And you satisfy and mystify my fever, summer fever
Summer fever
Body to body, arms entwined
Locked in your love, feeling fine with fever, summer fever
Summer fever
Time of love, time of year
Temperatures rising, our bodies near in fever, summer fever
Summer fever
Winds may come and the winds may blow
But theres no wind can cool me of my fever, summer fever
Summer fever
You burn so deep with your love so sweet
And you satisfy and mystify my fever, summer fever
Summer fever
Fever, summer fever
Fever, summer fever
song performed by by Donna Summer

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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(Waiting For) The Ghost Train
A straw headed woman, and a barrel chested man,
A pocket full of posies with a hat brim full of sand,
Ooh - waiting for the train that never comes,
A dog chasing the tumbleweeds, across the sandy floor,
That drift along the platform, through the ticket office door,
Ooh - waiting for the train that never comes,
Ooh - waiting for the train that never comes,
But don't tell me there's nothing coming, you don't fool me,
I hear the ghost train rumbling along the tracks - set them free,
And I hear them,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
The station master's writing with a piece of orange chalk,
A hundred cancellations, still no one wants to walk,
Keep the hungry children from the skeletons in the back,
Paid to keep an eye out for the gipsy caravan,
Ooh - waiting for the train that never comes,
Ooh - waiting for the train that never comes,
I hear the ghost train rumbling along the tracks - set them free,
And I hear them,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white (don't try),
It's black and white (don't try),
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
And I hear them,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white don't try to hide
song performed by by Madness

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Ghost Train
A straw headed woman, and a barrel chested man,
A pocket full of posies with a hat brim full of sand,
Ooh - waiting for the train that never comes,
A dog chasing the tumbleweeds, across the sandy floor,
That drift along the platform, through the ticket office door,
Ooh - waiting for the train that never comes,
Ooh - waiting for the train that never comes,
But don't tell me there's nothing coming, you don't fool me,
I hear the ghost train rumbling along the tracks - set them free,
And i hear them,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
The station master's writing with a piece of orange chalk,
A hundred cancellations, still no one wants to walk,
Keep the hungry children from the skeletons in the back,
Paid to keep an eye out for the gipsy caravan,
Ooh - waiting for the train that never comes,
Ooh - waiting for the train that never comes,
I hear the ghost train rumbling along the tracks - set them free,
And i hear them,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white (don't try),
It's black and white (don't try),
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
And i hear them,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white don't try to hide...
song performed by by Madness

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Black Market White Baby Dealer
My black market white baby dealer
Is hunting around overseas
My black market white baby dealer
Brings back clean, fresh white babies to me
Clean, fresh white babies to me
My black market white baby dealer
Is rooting around overseas
My black market white baby dealer
Kidnaps clean, fresh white babies for me
Clean, fresh white babies for me
My smile is dime a dozen
My lips are cherry red
My eyes are blue like the sky is blue
I got good shoulders under my head
I look like your mother
I look like your great-aunt
So sit me down in the family photo
And everyone tells me that i, I look just like you
My black market white baby dealer
Is hunting around overseas
My black market white baby dealer
Brings back clean, fresh white babies to me
He brings back
Oh my god, he brings back
He brings back clean, fresh, white expensive babies
He brings back
Oh charlie, he brings back
He brings back clean, fresh, white expensive babies
I come post-production
I dont need natal care
Im already fully assembled
Down to the very last part, its all there
So take me to your family
So take me to your home
Buddy, take me in as your next generation
And Ill take you out of the lost one and into mine
My black market white baby dealer
Is hunting around overseas
My black market white baby dealer
Brings back clean, fresh white babies to me
Clean, fresh white babies to me
Clean, fresh white babies to me
song performed by by Liz Phair

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Christmas wishes.
A Christmas tale so dear to me
Of Christmas past, now, and to be
A ghostly figure told each one
And this is how my tale begun
The 1st ghost showed me Christmas past
2 children playing with dreams to last
Parents watching as they grew
Each child was loved more than they knew
The 2nd ghost the one I fear
Christmas Day that soon is here
An empty room, a Christmas tree
With an empty space, where a gift should be
A jacket hangs behind a door
That once was worn but not no more
The 3rd ghost showed my future years
Christmas Days I share with tears
My Tale complete, the ghost was thru’
But looked at me as if he knew
For in my arms the ghost could see
The missing gift from beneath that tree
A gift I hold each year I live
My gift is love, but cannot give
To my only Son, who’s love must stay
In an ageing heart that will decay
The love I have has always grown
For the boy who’s name’s upon a stone
To mark the place where he must lay
The Son who was, my Christmas Day.
poem by Robin Hussey

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A Little Boy Paddling His Boat In The River
who had seen the little child paddling a boat
along this old river?
he drifted silently along the river weeds,
picking white lotuses along the way
the water hides his tracks
as duckweed opens him another path.
i was that boy, now, wanting to go back
in that old river.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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The Great Sin Of Prejudice Against Color
Children,
who made your skin white?
Was it not God?
Who made mine black?
Was it not the same God?
Am I to blame, therefore,
because my skin is black?
Does it not cast a reproach
on our Maker
to despise a part of His children,
because He has been pleased
to give them a black skin?
Indeed, children, it does;
and your teachers ought to tell you so,
and root up, if possible,
the great sin of prejudice
against color from your minds.
While Sabbath School Teachers
know of this great sin,
and not only do not teach
their pupils that it is a sin,
but too often indulge in it themselves,
can they expect God
to bless them or the children?
Does not God love colored children
as well as white children?
And did not the same Savior
die to save the one as well as the other?
If so,
white children must know
that if they go to Heaven,
they must go there
without their prejudice against color,
for in Heaven
black and white
are one in the love of Jesus.
Now children,
remember what Sojourner Truth has told you,
and thus get rid of your prejudice,
and learn to love colored children
that you may be
all the children of your Father
who is in Heaven.
poem by Sojourner Truth

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