Seer Sight Ebb Tide Beaches
time spins fast
in seer sight
ebb tide beaches siren whales
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Kiwi Heartbeat Poetic Chants
are tuned in distempered souls
mānuka honey is kiwi wild
wind clover flax fibre twist plait knot
ropes pull waka
rata season scarlet
letter tui bellbird chant
forest call
dawn chorus
awake spirits
melody songs
kauri earth rooted
sky stand poet
chant flies
spindle poet taxes
starvation soul
screaming write
visions boil in own blood cells
eyes boil flay flesh in vision quests
time spins fast
in seer sight
ebb tide beaches siren whales
water birth born to cry ocean songs
communicative across vast
surge arena Pacific ocean songs
mist child of Aotearoa
ride wide current ocean tides
to tip of embracing Cape Reinga
Pohutukawa
tree is rest eternal spirit
step home waiting...
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Walking Seed Own Time Lines
creative soul quite out of sorts
are you really source defined
by what you past have done?
remembered by what you have written?
does not forest, lakes, rivers,
windswept beaches, ocean tides,
ebb flow in kiwi artistic souls?
do you not hunger starve feel
beginnings are glory dawn chorus
with an eternal day sun bean streams
birth begging come write me?
past writes be they haka or poi songs
lilting lullaby soft night whispered blessings
stretching dark far back to jaw thigh bones
stretch dark far back to ancestor jaw thigh bones
ancestor blessings running sleeping
dream running in waking
eye infant sleep listening...
eye infant ancient sleep listening...
artistic walking time lines
artistic walking seed own time lines
hooks fishing catch spirit minds
wear colour cloak rainbow bird feathers...
to be an artist and deny art
is to deny self decades
may be devoted invested
into deep wound near fever social causes
delving into tunnels lighting candles
holding lamps high warming other hands
but art denied crucifies poetic souls
song of self is wine sung trodden in life caverns
art is not mainstream commercials remix copycat dance routines
gaga sales pitch rip offs
never climb stairways
to heaven sung unique songs
are tuned in distempered souls
mānuka honey is kiwi wild
wind clover flax fibre twist plait knot
ropes pull waka
rata season scarlet
letter tui bellbird chant
forest call
dawn chorus
awake spirits
melody songs
kauri earth rooted
sky stand poet
chant flies
spindle poet taxes
starvation soul
screaming write
visions boil in own blood cells
eyes boil flay flesh in vision quests
time spins fast
in seer sight
ebb tide beaches siren whales
water birth born to cry ocean songs
communicative across vast
surge arena Pacific ocean songs
mist child of Aotearoa
ride wide current ocean tides
to tip of embracing Cape Reinga
Pohutukawa
tree is rest eternal spirit
step home waiting...
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sound Of Thunder
Been in this grass here for the last ten hours
My clothes are dirty but my mouth isnt dry
How does it happen, does it fly through the air
Oh, I gave up asking days away
And now Im lying here waiting for the sound of thunder
Here I am, Im the dotted line
Cut the corners stick me to your door
Im the man who stepped off the path
And I just lie here
Its what I was made for
And now my eyes are closing but I still feel the land
Leaning out for the touch of my hand
The world spins so fast
That I might fly off
The world spins so fast
That I might fly off
The world spins so fast
That I might fly off
Im waiting for the sound of thunder
song performed by by Duran Duran
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Siren
Siren, siren, calling me from the sea,
Spill the sweetness of your words and your voice—
Spill them with such lucid fluidity
That I sink in them without having choice.
Siren, siren, sing me into a lull,
Bewitch me with your charm and your danger—
An insatiable thirst I can't control
For adventures, your lure of grandeur.
Siren, siren, slipping through my fingers
Like a formless liquid, make me submit.
You move with an air that seems to linger,
Perfumed with pleasures that seem infinite.
Siren, siren, entice the sensation
Of love within my imagination.
poem by Tim Stensloff
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Paper Cup
Wishful thinking I might be yours
Drifting on every step
Im always drawn to the dark horse
Sweet sweet, oh nothings said
And every dream, every, is just a dream after all
And everything stands so still when you dance
Everything spins so fast
And the nights in a paper cup
When you want it to last
Wishful thinking you might be mine
Every shiver sends
One breath under the bridge of sighs
Bending where the river bends
And every dream, every, is just a dream, after all
And everything stands so still when you dance
Everything spins so fast
And the nights in a paper cup
When you want it to last
And every dream, every, is just a dream after all
And everything stands so still when you dance
Everything spins so fast
And the nights in a paper cup
When you want it to last
And everything stands so still when you dance
Everything spins so fast
And the nights in a paper cup
When you want it to last
song performed by by Heather Nova
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The immense cities lie basking on the beaches of the continent like whales that have taken to the land.
quote by Arnold J. Toynbee
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We're Looking For The Whales
(Mags/Pal Waaktaar)
One left low left two who left high
They seam to hard to find
Three came twice took once the time
To search...
We're looking for a little bewildered girl
We're looking for a little bewildered girl
We're looking for the whales
Restlessness is in our genes
Time won't wear it off
Born into this world with our eyes wide open
Girl
We're looking for a little bewildered girl
We're looking for a little bewildered girl
We're looking for the whales
I found angels
Beached outside your doors
Don't you set those lonely eyes on me
We're looking for the whales
We're looking for the whales...
song performed by by A-Ha
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Canvases Experience Paints Styles
life spins slow versions fast versions
still hand stays idle fast hand swift flies
life spins multiple images in painter's eyes
what canvases experience paints styles
what heart stirring emotions buyer buys
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Siren of the Red
Siren of the Red,
Your voice sings so beautifully.
Siren of the Red,
You can help me see.
Siren of the Red,
How to make you love me.
Siren of the Red,
With your love so heavenly.
poem by Satan's Sibling
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Count to Six and Die (The Vacum of Infinite Space)
She's got her eyes open wide
she's got the dirt and spit of the world
her mouth on the metal
the lips of a scared little girl
I've got an angel in the lobby
he's waiting to put me in line
I won't ask forgiveness
my faith has gone dry
She's got her Christian prescriptures
and death has crawled in her ear
like elevator music of songs
that she shouldn't hear
and it spins around 1...2...3
and we all lay down 4...5...6
some do it fast
some do it better in smaller amounts
and it spins around 1...2...3
and we all lay down 4...5...6
some do it fast
some do it better in smaller amounts
song performed by by Marilyn Manson from Holy Wood (In The Shadow Of The Valley Of Death)
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Top made of a Coconut Tree Leaf
A weaving magic on a green coconut tree leaf ;
The leaf top rotates on the childhood rod fast.
No canker, the child runs with the top of green leaf,
Which, making the rustic road dizzy, spins fast.
Moss of disgust never gathers on the spinning top;
The drooping boredom spins away, as the child runs
With the top.It withers and gets slow under hot rays.
It did spin clockwise: one wishes anti-clockwise.
poem by Fabiyas M V
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Seers too have instincts
The seer, whose vision was a mission
To millions to wash their sins and earn
fortunes,
Steers himself to hire men and kings
To save him from the crime he landed
in.
The seer, whose words were taken as
God’s
By millions for getting tickets to heaven,
Hears from favourites and swears lies
So as to flee the clutches of law
The seer, whose faith should shun ego,
Power, wealth and comforts to its
core,
Wears them to augment his might and
right
To sever rising heads and stumbling
tails.
Still a seer is better than a rogue.
23.11.2004
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Pineapple Head
(neil finn)
Detective is flat, no longer is always flat out
Got the number of getaway car
Didnt get very far
As lucid as hell and these images
Movin so fast like a fever
So close to the bone
I dont feel too well
And if you choose to take that path
I will play you like a shark
And Ill clutch at your heart
Ill come flying like a spark to inflame you
Sleeping alone for pleasure
The pineapple head it spins and spins
Like a number I hold
Dont remember if she was my friend
It was a long time ago
And if you choose to take that path
I will play you like a shark
And Ill clutch at your heart
Come flying like a spark to inflame you
Sleeping alone for pleasure
The pineapple head it spins and it spins
Like a number I hold
If she was my friend
It was a long time ago
And if you choose to take that path
Will you come to make me pay
I will play you like a shark
And Ill will clutch at your heart
Ill come flying like a spark to inflame you
song performed by by Crowded House
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Wood And The Shore
The low bay melts into a ring of silver,
And slips it on the shore's reluctant finger
Though in an hour the tide will turn, will tremble,
Forsaking her because the moon persuades him.
But the black wood that leans and sighs above her
No tide can turn, no moon can slave nor summon.
Then comes the dark: on sleepy, shell-strewn beaches,
O'er long pale leagues of sand and cold, clear water
She hears the tide go out towards the moonlight.
The wood still leans… weeping she turns to seek him,
And his black hair all night is on her bosom.
poem by Muriel Stuart
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The Whole World Spins (Rondelet)
The whole world spins
when you are on a carousel,
the whole world spins
on its axis from the begin
while all on earth is going well,
and children do laugh play and yell;
the whole world spins.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Silkworm
The beams of April, ere it goes,
A worm, scarce visible, disclose;
All winter long content to dwell
The tenant of his native shell.
The same prolific season gives
The sustenance by which he lives,
The mulberry leaf, a simple store,
That serves him—till he needs no more!
For, his dimensions once complete,
Thenceforth none ever sees him eat;
Though till his growing time be past
Scarce ever is he seen to fast.
That hour arrived, his work begins.
He spins and weaves, and weaves and spins;
Till circle upon circle, wound
Careless around him and around,
Conceals him with a veil, though slight,
Impervious to the keenest sight.
Thus self-enclosed, as in a cask,
At length he finishes his task;
And, though a worm when he was lost,
Or caterpillar at the most,
When next we see him, wings he wears,
And in papilio pomp appears;
Becomes oviparous; supplies
With future worms and future flies
The next ensuing year—and dies!
Well were it for the world, if all
Who creep about this earthly ball,
Though shorter-lived than most he be,
Were useful in their kind as he.
poem by William Cowper
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Love Spins (demo)
Hold back the night
I wonder what she's doing When she's not in sight
I wonder where she's going Who she holds tonight
I wonder if she's sleeping alone
And hold back the pain
I cover up the teardrops In the pouring rain
My heart has been run over By a runaway train
I wonder if she's ever alone
Let it go! Let it go! Let it go!
Her love spins like a merry-go-round
Going up and down, she's far away bound
Her love - expression of vision and sound
It's setting me up, and then it's kicking me down
Don't fade to gray,
I wonder if she's ever Coming back to stay
She's running on the edge She hit the harder way
I wonder if she's only a dream
So hold back the night,
I wonder what she's doing When she's not in sight
I wonder where she's going Who she holds tonight
I wonder if she's lost in a dream
Let it go! Let it go! Let it go!
Her love spins ...
song performed by by Roxette
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Tide Is Turning
I used to think the world was flat
Rarely threw my hat into the crowd
I felt I had used up my quota of yearning
Used to look in on the children at night
In the glow of their donald duck light
And I frighten myself with the thought of my little ones burning
Oh, oh, oh, the tide is turning
Oh, oh, oh, the tide is turning
Satellites buzzing through the endless night
Exclusive to moonshots and world title fights
Jesus christ, imagine what it must be earning
Who is the strongest
Who is the best
Who holds the aces
The east
Or the west
This is the crap our children are learning
And oh, oh, the tide is turning
Oh, oh, the tide is turning
Oh, oh, oh, the tide is turning
Oh, oh, oh, the tide is turning
Oh, oh, oh, the tide is turning
Now the satellites confused
cos on saturday night
The airwaves were full of compassion and light
And his silicon heart warmed
To the sight of a billion candles burning
But, Im not saying that the battle is won
But on saturday night all those kids in the sun
Wrested technologys sword from the hand of the war lords
Oh, the tide is turning
Oh, the tide is turning
Oh, the tide is turning
Oh, the tide is turning
(repeated)
song performed by by Cyndi Lauper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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3. Singing Whales
Singing whales I hear your song
Deep down low where you belong
Tunes my mind cannot unravel
Many miles your songs will travel
Singing whales send out your sound
In the oceans where you’re found
Tons of blubber sifting krill
Hunting as you move at will
Singing whales all wet and shiny
Giant sounds heard by those tiny
Sounds that hold a hidden charm
To help all restless souls stay calm
poem by David Threadgold (2008)
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My Boy Jack
1914-1918
'Have you news of my boy Jack?'
Not this tide.
'When d'you think that he'll come back?'
Not with this wind blowing, and this tide.
'Has anyone else had word of him?'
Not this tide.
For what is sunk will hardly swim,
Not with this wind blowing and this tide.
'Oh, dear, what comfort can I find?'
None this tide,
Nor any tide,
Except he did not shame his kind-
Not even with that wind blowing, and that tide.
Then hold your head up all the more,
This tide,
And every tide;
Because he was the son you bore,
And gave to that wind blowing and that tide!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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