Continuum
My breath rises
to the edge of space
and pauses
at the nexus of perfection,
then falls,
driven by waves of fire,
by strong hands guided
through dust and rain,
through ice, through
the shining
vortex
to my upturned face
where a single dropp dies
and fills me with
the storm's desire.
poem by Steven Federle

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By the Sea
The Caves of the sea have been troubled to-day
With the water which whitens, and widens, and fills;
And a boat with our brother was driven away
By a wind that came down from the tops of the hills.
Behold I have seen on the threshold again
A face in a dazzle of hair!
Do you know that she watches the rain, and the main,
And the waves which are moaning there?
Ah, moaning and moaning there!
Now turn from your casements, and fasten your doors,
And cover your faces, and pray, if you can;
There are wails in the wind, there are sighs on the shores,
And alas, for the fate of a storm-beaten man!
Oh, dark falls the night on the rain-rutted verge,
So sad with the sound of the foam!
Oh, wild is the sweep and the swirl of the surge;
And his boat may never come home!
Ah, never and never come home!
poem by Henry Kendall

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Come Dance!
lover, come dance!
i have grown weary
of fireflies and spiders.
the bark of the tree tastes like need,
and the howling has a face.
i am mad with desire,
in the tooth of the wind!
the dust on my feet only memory!
the key is gone, but the lock is broken,
the shadows have agreed to leave.
the hawk rises to taste the sky,
rough hands born to caress.
lonliness doesnt even build a good fire,
the waves lap at the shore!
poem by Eric Cockrell

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Driven
Words by neil peart, music by geddy lee and alex lifeson
Driven up and down in circles
Skidding down a road of black ice
Staring in and out storm windows
Driven to a fools paradise
But its my turn to drive
Driven to the margin of error
Driven to the edge of control
Driven to the margin of terror
Driven to the edge of a deep, dark hole
Driven day and night in circles
Spinning like a whirlwind of leaves
Stealing in and out back alleys
Driven to another den of thieves
But its my turn to drive
Driven in --- driven to the edge
Driven out --- on the thin end of the wedge
Driven off --- by things Ive never seen
Driven on --- by the road to somewhere Ive never been
Its my turn to drive
The road unwinds towards me
What was there is gone
The road unwinds before me
And I go riding on
song performed by by Rush

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Falls On Me
You see me hanging round
starting to swear about this black hole you've dug for me
and silently within hands touchin skin shock
breaks my disease and i can breath
and all of your weights
all you dream falls on me
it falls on me
and your beautiful sky
the light you breath
falls on me
it falls on me ahha
Your faith like a pain
it draws me in again
she washes all my wounds of me
darkness in my veins
I never could explain
and i wonder if you have ever see
Will you still believe
and all of your weights
and all that you dream
falls on me
it falls on me
and your beautiful sky
the light you breath
falls on me
it falls on me
am I that strong
to carry on
have i changed your life
have i changed my world
could you save me ahhhhha
and all of your weights
all you dream
falls on me
it falls on me
and you beautiful sky
the light you breath
falls on me
it falls on me
and all of your weights
all you dream falls on me
it falls on me
and your beautiful sky
the light you breath
falls on me
it falls on me
ahhhhaha yea ahhhah yea
song performed by by Fuel

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ultima Thule: The Tide Rises, The Tide Falls
The tide rises, the tide falls,
The twilight darkens, the curlew calls;
Along the sea-sands damp and brown
The traveller hastens toward the town,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
Darkness settles on roofs and walls,
But the sea, the sea in the darkness calls;
The little waves, with their soft, white hands,
Efface the footprints in the sands,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
The morning breaks; the steeds in their stalls
Stamp and neigh, as the hostler calls;
The day returns, but nevermore
Returns the traveller to the shore,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

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Tide Rises, the Tide Falls, The
The tide rises, the tide falls,
The twilight darkens, the curlew calls;
Along the sea-sands damp and brown
The traveler hastens toward the town,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
Darkness settles on roofs and walls,
But the sea, the sea in darkness calls;
The little waves, with their soft, white hands
Efface the footprints in the sands,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
The morning breaks; the steeds in their stalls
Stamp and neigh, as the hostler calls;
The day returns, but nevermore
Returns the traveler to the shore.
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

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The Tide Rises, the Tide Falls
The tide rises, the tide falls,
The twilight darkens, the curlew calls;
Along the sea-sands damp and brown
The traveller hastens toward the town,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
Darkness settles on roofs and walls,
But the sea, the sea in the darkness calls;
The little waves, with their soft, white hands,
Efface the footprints in the sands,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
The morning breaks; the steeds in their stalls
Stamp and neigh, as the hostler calls;
The day returns, but nevermore
Returns the traveller to the shore,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

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The Praise of Dust
'What of vile dust?' the preacher said.
Methought the whole world woke,
The dead stone lived beneath my foot,
And my whole body spoke.
'You, that play tyrant to the dust,
And stamp its wrinkled face,
This patient star that flings you not
Far into homeless space.
'Come down out of your dusty shrine
The living dust to see,
The flowers that at your sermon's end
Stand blazing silently.
'Rich white and blood-red blossom; stones,
Lichens like fire encrust;
A gleam of blue, a glare of gold,
The vision of the dust.
'Pass them all by: till, as you come
Where, at a city's edge,
Under a tree-I know it well-
Under a lattice ledge,
'The sunshine falls on one brown head.
You, too, O cold of clay,
Eater of stones, may haply hear
The trumpets of that day
'When God to all his paladins
By his own splendour swore
To make a fairer face than heaven,
Of dust and nothing more.'
poem by Gilbert Keith Chesterton

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Rain from Heaven
rain rain rain rain
the murmer of rain
the sweet song of rain
the wind along with rain
the nostalgic feeling of rain
which can be enjoyed with a sad song
now its raining! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
the dropp that fallen in my face
let it be the last dropp before I die
and let that dropp clean all my guilt
so that my soul will not see hell
then you might hear my sound
along with the next rain; Says
'the rain on that day was from heaven'
(10/2/2009)
poem by Martin Thomas

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The Praise of Dust
'What of vile dust?' the preacher said.
Methought the whole world woke,
The dead stone lived beneath my foot,
And my whole body spoke.
'You, that play tyrant to the dust,
And stamp its wrinkled face,
This patient star that flings you not
Far into homeless space.
'Come down out of your dusty shrine
The living dust to see,
The flowers that at your sermon's end
Stand blazing silently.
'Rich white and blood-red blossom; stones,
Lichens like fire encrust;
A gleam of blue, a glare of gold,
The vision of the dust.
'Pass them all by: till, as you come
Where, at a city's edge,
Under a tree - I know it well -
Under a lattice ledge,
'The sunshine falls on one brown head.
You, too, O cold of clay,
Eater of stones, may haply hear
The trumpets of that day
'When God to all his paladins
By his own splendour swore
To make a fairer face than heaven,
Of dust and nothing more.'
poem by G.K. Chesterton from The Wild Knight and Other Poems (1900)

Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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A Single Candle/Death Herself
A single flame lights her face
The face of death
A single candle holds her fears
The fears of death
Her hands clasped anrond their souls
The souls of the dead
She feeds of their screams
The screams of the dead
Her legs lay bellow her
Bellow death
Her black gown over her body
The body of death
Her chest rises and falls with her breath
The breath of death
Her cloak drawn over her long flowing jet hair
The face of death
Her eyes unmoved unfeeling
Do you see it?
Do you see the soul of death?
Do you feel it?
Her skin as white as snow as it fades into darkness
The snow of tears
Her cloths as dark as night that swallows the light
The dark we all shall see
Her eyes close as she feels their souls flow
Flow from the dead
She leaves them there to lay in darkness
She steals from the dead
A single candle lights their faces filled with her
Filled with death
They fall into the darkness of her eyes, of her heart
The darkness of death
A single candle shall stay to light their way
Their way through the dark
A single candle holds their past
The pain and trials
A single candle lights her face
The face of death
A single candle holds her fears
The fears of death herself
A single candle
poem by Bethany Maxwell

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Evening Song Of Senlin
from Senlin: A Biography
It is moonlight. Alone in the silence
I ascend my stairs once more,
While waves, remote in a pale blue starlight,
Crash on a white sand shore.
It is moonlight. The garden is silent.
I stand in my room alone.
Across my wall, from the far-off moon,
A rain of fire is thrown . . .
There are houses hanging above the stars,
And stars hung under a sea:
And a wind from the long blue vault of time
Waves my curtain for me . . .
I wait in the dark once more,
Swung between space and space:
Before my mirror I lift my hands
And face my remembered face.
Is it I who stand in a question here,
Asking to know my name? . . .
It is I, yet I know not whither I go,
Nor why, nor whence I came.
It is I, who awoke at dawn
And arose and descended the stair,
Conceiving a god in the eye of the sun,—
In a woman's hands and hair.
It is I whose flesh is gray with the stones
I builded into a wall:
With a mournful melody in my brain
Of a tune I cannot recall . . .
There are roses to kiss: and mouths to kiss;
And the sharp-pained shadow of death.
I remember a rain-drop on my cheek,—
A wind like a fragrant breath . . .
And the star I laugh on tilts through heaven;
And the heavens are dark and steep . . .
I will forget these things once more
In the silence of sleep.
poem by Conrad Potter Aiken

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Still Falls The Rain
(ferry/manzanera)
Dear hyde -
No more can i
Explain, ive tried
With words in vain
They pass you by
Like falling rain
From perfect skies
Still falls the rain
Inside
Hey brother dont be square
Here it is not over there
Im your man - ive got it made
You need my fire you need my shade
Youre here hyde -
Once more inspire
This strangely tied
Uncertain frame
So torn inside
Still falls the rain
Two minds, one vein
Still falls the rain
Inside
Hey doctor dont be scared
Its you and me so wheres my share?
Im the man just move aside
Call me mister call me hyde
Hey lover dont be shy
Im a single minded guy
Better watch me - boy im rough
Half a man aint strong enough
Hey brother dont be square
Here it is not over there
Im your man - ive got it made
You feed my fire you need my shade
song performed by by Roxy Music

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pre-Existence
I laid me down upon the shore
And dreamed a little space;
I heard the great waves break and roar;
The sun was on my face.
My idle hands and fingers brown
Played with the pebbles grey;
The waves came up, the waves went down,
Most thundering and gay.
The pebbles, they were smooth and round
And warm upon my hands,
Like little people I had found
Sitting among the sands.
The grains of sands so shining-small
Soft through my fingers ran;
The sun shone down upon it all,
And so my dream began:
How all of this had been before;
How ages far away
I lay on some forgotten shore
As here I lie to-day.
The waves came shining up the sands,
As here to-day they shine;
And in my pre-pelasgian hands
The sand was warm and fine.
I have forgotten whence I came,
Or what my home might be,
Or by what strange and savage name
I called that thundering sea.
I only know the sun shone down
As still it shines to-day,
And in my fingers long and brown
The little pebbles lay.
poem by Frances Darwin Cornford

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Perfection
Your cold and poor-spirited love
Was like running water upon my hands...
I did for your love, all that I could....
As an imperfect man that I am...
I offered you just possible things...
Warmth when you were cold,
And consolation when you felt hopeless...
You search for perfection
Which you will never find...
Perfect is the rain that falls
In the spring time...
Perfect are the flowers that grow
in a real garden of love....
Perfect is the smile in a child
Who plays with toys...
Perfection is a man
Who had it all
And now is getting tired and old...
Perfection are the memories
In your heart and mind...
Perfection is something
You shall never find
On me or any other man
Since perfection is just
In your dreams and imagination...
Now perfection becomes
Just like a story untold....
How sad it is
That my love you can no longer have
Neither my hands again hold...
o! Woman, wish you good luck
In your new try...
COPY WRITE©2009
poem by Romeo Della Valle

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Dust Moon
How long have I been running far far away from you
As many miles as I've gone
Still the darkness comes on
There will be a crimson moon tonight
Dust moon rises...your face haunts me so
Dust moon rises...sanity leaving me soon
I still see your blood on the face of the moon
Your face haunts me, nothing clear now
Dust moon has risen
Bloody, mocking moon
Daylight seems lifetimes away, eternal midnight
Keep running away
Dust moon has risen...haunting me so
Dust moon rises...sanity, leaving me so soon?
I still see your face on the blood of the moon
And when the dust moon rests his weary head
And the sunshine begins to rise
Will I still be here or will I be dead
Is the dawn of a new day just a lie?
Waves give dampness
Love rises and falls like waves.
When it rises you’re upbeat.
When it falls, you are heart struck.
Mind, each wave dampens the shore.
24.03.2002, Pakd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar

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Fire Drop
A fire drop....a fire drop
From the smoky sky dropped
The city is all taken up by fire
So much blood and many dead...
By the EVIL DESIRE
An anonymous dropp of fire...
Fire drops… so many fire drops
Dropping dead slow
From the source of that malicious glow
Fire drop… a reason of pain
The Fire dropp provoking all the deranged
Murders and helpless cries
Murderers and disgusting evil smiles
Bleeding to death in so little whiles
Red is all that is, in the river’s pile
Fire dropp look at what you did
You made the heaven on earth to ruins
Fire dropp you caused an un-necessary war
For human rights you are below par
Fire dropp you killed uncountable
You destructed uncountable
Fire drop! Who will pay for your misdeeds?
All that you did in your hideous greed?
Xainub Nasir
poem by Xainub Nasir

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That Lives Beyond
shotguns, and ice,
no panties, no ring.
burnt edge of a rose,
barefoot in jeans.
wrinkled, but fire
dancing in your eyes.
the smell of morning
before darkness dies.
the cling and the hold,
mouth, heart, and soul.
the river unleashed,
raging out of control.
the taste of the unnamed,
unseen, and untold.
stardust in my hands
too elusive to hold.
hymn of the night.
song of the day.
what fills empty,
and then goes away.
how precious the moment,
the gift, fleeting breath.
that lives beyond
my life and my death!
poem by Eric Cockrell

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Art of Fire
Whether big, whether small
Whether tamed, whether monster
Whether damned, whether adored
Fire is always attracting
Whether solid, whether liquid
In the summer, in the winter
Whether friend, whether foe
Fire always born to burn
Match sparks, gas bursts
Hot springs vacation, sun bath holiday
Inside earth, the shear of space
Fire never truly dies
The light, the smoke
Training patience, teaching alertness
You must learn or left in ash
Fire is master of survival
The spirit, the god
Breath and move, eat and grow
The desire, the anger
Fire is enigmatic thing
poem by Maria Sudibyo

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