Starry Night (Vacaville)
Night fills the valley.
swarming armies rise to crest
to fiery west.
The battle is done.
tumbling stars overturning
pale winter's stark sun.
poem by Steven Federle
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Starry Night
Night fills the valley.
swarming armies rise to crest
to fiery west.
The battle is done.
tumbling stars overturning
pale winter's stark sun.
poem by Steven Federle
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Night and Day
Day and night the west
winds rise to the golden
edge, the threshold of sight.
I rise and fall and begin again
‘til at last I decline
into darkness of same.
Hot summer draws out spare
winter’s chill; my days flow
over, my life over-fills
‘til will forsaken, naked and
chaste, at last I gaze
on your pure, living face.
poem by Steven Federle
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The Camp Within the West
O DID you see a troop go by
Way-weary and oppressed,
Dead kisses on the drooping lip
And a dead heart in the breast?
Yea, I have seen them one by one
Way-weary and oppressed,
And when I asked them, ‘Whither speed?’
They answered, ‘To the West!’
And were they pale as pale could be—
Death-pale with haunted eyes,
And did you see the hot white dust
Range round their feet and rise?
Oh, they were pale as pale could be,
And pale as an embered leaf;
The hot white dust had risen, but
They laid it with their grief.
Did no one say the way is long,
And crave a little rest?
Oh no, they said, ‘The night is nigh,
Our camp is in the West!’
And did pain pierce their feet, as though
The way with thorns were set,
And were they visited by strange
Dark angels of regret?
Oh yea, and some were mute as death,
Though shot by many a dart,
With them the salt of inward tears
Went stinging through the heart.
And how are these wayfarers called,
And whither do they wend?
The Weary-Hearted—and their road
At sunset hath and end.
Shed tears for them…Nay, nay, no tears!
They yearn for endless rest;
Perhaps large stars will burn above
Their camp within the West.
poem by Roderic Quinn
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Look-Out Mountain
WHO inhabiteth the Mountain
That it shines in lurid light,
And is rolled about with thunders,
And terrors, and a blight,
Like Kaf the peak of Eblis-
Kaf, the evil height?
Who has gone up with a shouting
And a trumpet in the night?
There is battle in the Mountain-
Might assaulteth Might;
'Tis the fastness of the Anarch,
Torrent-torn, an ancient height;
The crags resound the clangor
Of the war of Wrong and Right;
And the armies in the valley
Watch and pray for dawning light.
Joy, joy, the day is breaking,
And the cloud is rolled from sight;
There is triumph in the Morning
For the Anarch's plunging flight;
God has glorified the Mountain
Where a banner burneth bright,
And the armies of the valley
They are fortified in right.
poem by Herman Melville
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The Ruined Homestead
White birds, frightened from silver grass,
whose blood-rose breasts and wings are thrown
like petals settling down the pass,
flower the ruined homestead’s stone.
Rise from the fallen walls and scream,
crested, from the stark dead gum;
shatter the crystal of the morning’s dream
where I, across your landscape, come.
Roofless, the broken stonework frames
red arid hills, a valley where
the ghost-gums writhe like whitened flames
and desert-oaks droop their dark hair.
And when, in the crucible of the hills
the molten day has died, there stands
under the blaze of stars that fills
its night, a house not made with hands.
poem by Roland Robinson
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The Forefather
HERE at the country inn,
I lie in my quiet bed,
And the ardent onrush of armies
Throbs and throbs in my head.
Why, in this calm, sweet place,
Where only silence is heard,
Am I ware of the crash of conflict,—
Is my blood to battle stirred?
Without, the night is blessed
With the smell of pines, with stars;
Within, is the mood of slumber,
The healing of daytime scars.
’T is strange,—yet I am thrall
To epic agonies;
The tumult of myriads dying
Is borne to me on the breeze.
Mayhap in the long ago
My forefather grim and stark
Stood in some hell of carnage,
Faced forward, fell in the dark;
And I, who have always known
Peace with her dove-like ways,
Am gripped by his martial spirit
Here in the after days.
I cannot rightly tell:
I lie, from all stress apart,
And the ardent onrush of armies
Surges hot through my heart.
poem by Richard Francis Burton
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Beaumont and Fletcher:IV
AN HOUR ere sudden sunset fired the west,
Arose two stars upon the pale deep east.
The hall of heaven was clear for night’s high feast,
Yet was not yet day’s fiery heart at rest
Love leapt up from his mother’s burning breast
To see those warm twin lights, as day decreased,
Wax wider, till when all the sun had ceased
As suns they shone from evening’s kindled crest
Across them and between, a quickening fire,
Flamed Venus, laughing with appeased desire.
Their dawn, scarce lovelier for the gleam of tears,
Filled half the hollow shell ’twixt heaven and earth
With sound like moonlight, mingling moan and mirth,
Which rings and glitters down the darkling years.
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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The Drover Of The Stars
IT is little I care for earth's kings,
Its emperors, sultans and czars,
As I lie in the darkness and dream
All alone with my sheep and the stars.
For as dust of the moment are they,
Now agleam and now still on earth's breast;
But the stars, spreading wide in the night,
Travel on, ever on to the west.
My sheep, snugly camped in the dark,
Misty-white with the pale grasses blend;
But where is the camp of the stars?
And whither, O Night, do they wend?
Through leagues of dry distance we came,
Where dust-wreaths, wind-woven, upcurled,
Since Dawn dropped the rails of the east
And let the Day into our world.
Slow-moving we travelled the plains,
Trudging on through the sun and the wind,
Till Day galloped out of the west,
And Night set the sliprails behind.
And now, by my camp-fire alone,
A tryst with pale Wonder I keep —
That mystical Lady of Dreams,
Whose hour is the sleep-of-the-sheep.
Foot-tired in the grasses they lie,
Mist-pale in the darkness, and dumb;
Yet who was it mustered the stars,
And whence and what leagues have they come?
Who keeps them from straying apart?
Who urges them straight on their route?
No answer — none tell me; and lo!
The Night, though it listen, is mute!
Watch 'neath the stars of the Cross,
Orion, and Venus and Mars;
I am but a drover of sheep —
But who is the Drover of Stars?
poem by Roderic Quinn
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Joshua Fit The Battle (take 1)
Joshua fit the battle of Jericho
Jericho Jericho
Joshua fit the battle of Jericho
And the walls come tumbling down
God knows that
Joshua fit the battle of Jericho
Jericho Jericho
Joshua fit the battle of Jericho
And the walls come tumbling down
Good morning sister Mary
Good morning brother John
Well I wanna stop and talk with you
Wanna tell you how I come along
I know you've heard about Joshua
He was the son of Nun
He never stopped his work until
Until the work was done
God knows that
Joshua fit the battle of Jericho
Jericho Jericho
Joshua fit the battle of Jericho
And the walls come tumbling down
You may talk about your men of Gideon
You may brag about your men of Saul
There's none like good old Joshua
At the battle of Jericho
Up to the walls of Jericho
He marched with spear in hand
Go blow them ram horns, Joshua cried
'Cause the battle is in my hands
God knows that
Joshua fit the battle of Jericho
Jericho Jericho
Joshua fit the battle of Jericho
And the walls come tumbling down
You may talk about your men of Gideon
You may brag about your king of Saul
There none like Joshua
At the battle of Jericho
They tell me, great God that Joshuas spear
Was well nigh twelve feet long
And upon his hip was a double edged sword
And his mouth was a gospel horn
Yet bold and brave he stood
Salvation in his hand
Go blow them ram horns Joshua cried
'Cause the devil can't do you no harm
Joshua fit the battle of Jericho
Jericho Jericho
Joshua fit the battle of Jericho
And the walls come tumbling down
Up to the walls of Jericho
He marched with spear in hand
Go blow them ram horns, Joshua cried
'Cause the battle is in my hands
Then the lamb ram sheep horns began to blow
The trumpets began to sound
Old Joshua shouted glory
And the walls came tumblin' down
God knows that
Joshua fit the battle of Jericho
Jericho Jericho
Joshua fit the battle of Jericho
And the walls come tumbling down
Down, down, down, down, down
Tumblin' down
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Joshua Fit The Battle
(arranged and adapted by elvis presley)
Joshua fit the battle of jericho
Jericho jericho
Joshua fit the battle of jericho
And the walls come tumbling down
God knows that
Joshua fit the battle of jericho
Jericho jericho
Joshua fit the battle of jericho
And the walls come tumbling down
Good morning sister mary
Good morning brother john
Well I wanna stop and talk with you
Wanna tell you how I come along
I know youve heard about joshua
He was the son of nun
He never stopped his work until
Until the work was done
God knows that
Joshua fit the battle of jericho
Jericho jericho
Joshua fit the battle of jericho
And the walls come tumbling down
You may talk about your men of gideon
You may brag about your men of saul
Theres none like good old joshua
At the battle of jericho
Up to the walls of jericho
He marched with spear in hand
Go blow them ram horns, joshua cried
cause the battle is in my hands
God knows that
Joshua fit the battle of jericho
Jericho jericho
Joshua fit the battle of jericho
And the walls come tumbling down
You may talk about your men of gideon
You may brag about your king of saul
There none like joshua
At the battle of jericho
They tell me, great God that joshuas spear
Was well nigh twelve feet long
And upon his hip was a double edged sword
And his mouth was a gospel horn
Yet bold and brave he stood
Salvation in his hand
Go blow them ram horns joshua cried
cause the devil cant do you no harm
Joshua fit the battle of jericho
Jericho jericho
Joshua fit the battle of jericho
And the walls come tumbling down
Up to the walls of jericho
He marched with spear in hand
Go blow them ram horns, joshua cried
cause the battle is in my hands
Then the lamb ram sheep horns began to blow
The trumpets began to sound
Old joshua shouted glory
And the walls came tumblin down
God knows that
Joshua fit the battle of jericho
Jericho jericho
Joshua fit the battle of jericho
And the walls come tumbling down
Down, down, down, down, down
Tumblin down
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Late Lark Twitters From The Quiet Skies
the quiet skies:
And from the west,
Where the sun, his day's work ended,
Lingers as in content,
There falls on the old, gray city
An influence luminous and serene,
A shining peace.
The smoke ascends
In a rosy-and-golden haze. The spires
Shine and are changed. In the valley
Shadows rise. The lark sings on. The sun,
Closing his benediction,
Sinks, and the darkening air
Thrills with a sense of the triumphing night-
Night with her train of stars
And her great gift of sleep.
So be my passing!
My task accomplish'd and the long day done,
My wages taken, and in my heart
Some late lark singing,
Let me be gather'd to the quiet west,
The sundown splendid and serene,
Death.
poem by William Ernest Henley
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Margaritae Sorori
A LATE lark twitters from the quiet skies:
And from the west,
Where the sun, his day's work ended,
Lingers as in content,
There falls on the old, gray city
An influence luminous and serene,
A shining peace.
The smoke ascends
In a rosy-and-golden haze. The spires
Shine and are changed. In the valley
Shadows rise. The lark sings on. The sun,
Closing his benediction,
Sinks, and the darkening air
Thrills with a sense of the triumphing night--
Night with her train of stars
And her great gift of sleep.
So be my passing!
My task accomplish'd and the long day done,
My wages taken, and in my heart
Some late lark singing,
Let me be gather'd to the quiet west,
The sundown splendid and serene,
Death.
poem by William Ernest Henley
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When The Walls Came Tumbling Down
On the first day of the first month in some distant year
The whole sky froze golden
Some said it was the aftermath of the radium bomb
While others told of a final retribution
A terrible revenge of the gods
But we understood the grand finale
Fulfillment of a prophecy told many years before
So all that was left was...
All the women were captured and chained
And national suicide was proclaimed
And New America fell to the ground
And all the children lay crippled and lame
But all the nations came together
In fear of the thought of the end
No more would we fight in the streets
No courage had we to defend
When the walls came tumbling down
When the walls came tumbling down
Everybody ran as they screamed at the sound
When the walls came tumbling down
When the walls came tumbling down
When the walls came tumbling down
Everybody ran as they screamed at the sound
A blinding light the sun had died
A new moon took its place
Tidal waves and open graves the fate of the unhuman race
The city's heart no longer beats no pity have I left to lend
A sinner sits reciting Dylan it's now that I welcome the end
When the walls came tumbling down
When the walls came tumbling down
When the walls came tumbling down
Everybody ran as they screamed at the sound
When the walls came tumbling down
When the walls came tumbling down
When the walls came tumbling down
Everybody ran as they screamed at the sound
When the walls came tumbling down
When the walls came tumbling down
When the walls came tumbling down
Everybody ran as they screamed at the sound
When the walls came tumbling down
When the walls came tumbling down
When the walls came tumbling down
Nobody made a sound
Down
song performed by by Def Leppard from On Through The Night
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Wedding Gown Of The Spring Is More Fair (Rondel Prime)
The wedding gown of the spring is more fair
than the stark nakedness that winter does bring,
when many trees do their bright garments wear
and day and night birds do rejoicing sing,
while insects buzz and flutter in the air
and happiness is in everything living.
The wedding gown of the spring is more fair
than the stark nakedness that winter does bring,
than the silence that is cold and bare,
when some birds do frolic, to and thro wing
their way and gladness is in their flying
until the sun's late afternoon red glare.
The wedding gown of the spring is more fair
than the stark nakedness that winter does bring.
poem by Gert Strydom
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cello Song
Strange face, with your eyes
So pale and sincere.
Underneath you know well
You have nothing to fear.
For the dreams that came to you when so young
Told of a life
Where spring is sprung.
You would seem so frail
In the cold of the night
When the armies of emotion
Go out to fight.
But while the earth sinks to its grave
You sail to the sky
On the crest of a wave.
So forget this cruel world
Where I belong
Ill just sit and wait
And sing my song.
And if one day you should see me in the crowd
Lend a hand and lift me
To your place in the cloud.
song performed by by Nick Drake
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Ghost Of The New World
'_There are no ghosts in America._'
There are no ghosts, you say,
To haunt her blaze of light;
No shadows in her day,
No phantoms in her night.
Columbus' tattered sail
Has passed beyond our hail.
What? On that magic coast,
Where Raleigh fought with fate,
Or where that Devon ghost
Unbarred the Golden Gate,
No dark, strange, ear-ringed men
Beat in from sea again?
No ghosts in Salem town
With silver buckled shoon?
No lovely witch to drown
Or burn beneath the moon?
Not even a whiff of tea,
On Boston's glimmering quay.
O, ghostly Spanish walls,
Where brown Franciscans glide,
Is there no voice that calls
Across the Great Divide,
To pilgrims on their way
Along the Santa Fe?
Then let your Pullman cars
Go roaring to the West,
Till, watched by lonelier stars,
The cactus lifts its crest.
There, on that painted plain,
One ghost will rise again.
Majestic and forlorn,
Wreck of a dying race,
The Red Man, half in scorn,
Shall raise his haughty face,
Inscrutable as the sky,
To watch our ghosts go by.
What? Is earth dreaming still?
Shall not the night disgorge
The ghosts of Bunker Hill
The ghosts of Valley Forge,
Or, England's mightiest son,
The ghost of Washington?
No ghosts where Lincoln fell?
No ghosts for seeing eyes?
I know an old cracked bell
Shall make ten million rise
When one immortal ghost
Calls to the slumbering host.
poem by Alfred Noyes
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The Winter Moon
Its the sweet sultry taste of winter on my lips,
the shadow of the pale moonlight on my eyes,
and behind the thin drapes of midnight clouds,
amidst the stars shining bright and clear,
smiles the radiance of the winter moon.
If I had seen heaven,
I would admit I had seen it,
hiding shyly behind the curtains of the night,
the winter moon at zenith, smiles down at me.
Its this breeze blowing gently,
mixing the scent of the winter with the moon,
and I stay awake,
my heart filled to the brim with love,
appreciating the splendour of the winter moon!
poem by Amatulla Mohammadi
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Stark (5,3,1 structure for Gulsher: -)
All matter that existence here
constructed of quark?
Stark
Everything you need for life
Fits one arc?
Stark
A misty graveyard with only
Song of Lark
Stark
Raving madness that takes hold
Makes you bark
Stark
Cutting bluntness of succinct remark
Stalks like shark
Stark
Barron, the searing hot desert
Must not disembark
Stark
Broken mind, shades
under depression
So very dark
Stark
Winters morn sitting on bench
In empty park
Stark
poem by Stevie Taite
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Stark
All matter and existence
build from the concept of quark
Stark
Everything you need for life
Fits on one Arc
Stark
A misty graveyard with just
the song of the Lark
Stark
The raving madness that takes hold
and makes you bark
Stark
The cutting bluntness
of a succinct remark
Stark
Barren, the searing desert.
I fight the urge to disembark
Stark
A broken mind, in the shade
of depression, so dark
Stark
A winters morn alone
on a bench in an empty park
Stark
poem by Stevie Taite
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To the Stars
What beholds
In my sight
My lover in the night
That she may sleep
In inner peace
Atop a bed of fleece
And how cruel of me
To confess
Of her long purple dress
We gazed upon the night sky
All of who we may try
And as we met each other's eyes
With love, to the stars we shall rise
And what is
My temptation
To ignore my condemnation
And how
Can I stay sane
Within a field of shame
We gazed upon the night sky
All of who we may try
And as we met each other's eyes
With love, to the stars we shall rise
As you gaze
Fixed upon the stars
All of who you are
Is revealed
Unto me
And I couldn't see
So I confess
Nontheless
Like a small bird in nest
In her long purple dress
We gazed upon the night sky
All of who we may try
And as we met each other's eyes
With love, to the stars we shall rise
And if I
May so hear
An unpleasant
To awake
To the news
Of one gone I would not lose
To know the one
In the dress
Is nothing now but dead
Then how can I live
With this utter feeling of dread
And as I gaze upon the night sky
All of who I may try
And as I close my tired eyes
With love, to you I shall rise
poem by Pete Rivera
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