The Stranger
It was on Queen Street
Auckland, we mystically met.
I hurried past up hill
to swiftly change in hotel room.
I felt presence reach
out, as I rapidly pasted.
I stopped; to glance around.
What had arrested motion?
This unknown man would be
singular alone anywhere.
We looked searching out secrets
deep within each others eyes.
Dressed he was in shielding travel stained
clothes of youth's pilgrims who travel.
Seeking an answer to impelling souls.
Moths ever magnetically magically drawn on.
It was on Queen Street, in my beloved Auckland,
in Aotearoa New Zealand, we mystically met.
Late, I hurried past, up hill,
to swiftly change in hotel room.
For chance meeting, finding a friend,
just earlier arrived from home.
Meant night out about town, companionship,
catch-up conversation, at hastily arranged dinner.
I felt previously unencountered presence,
reach out; as I rapidly pasted.
I stopped; to searchingly; glance around.
What had arrested time pressed motion?
Saw a solitary figure, sitting alone,
upon a particularly, insignificant park bench.
Seconds taken, seize, reclaim reality,
readjust, focus. Was drawn impulsively near.
This apparently normal, at surface appearance,
unknown man; would be; singular; alone; anywhere.
We looked, searching out secrets, deep
within each others prophetic mirror eyes.
Parallels ran a similar, disturbing, mutable course.
Haunting pain was preternaturally echoed. Spirit evasively
painstakingly broken. Need heightens twin souled fleeting
communion comfort. Mind knew. Hoped for mesmeric love.
Dressed he was in typical shielding travel stained
clothes of youth's pilgrims who progressively travel.
Seeking an answer to scented balm impelling souls.
Moths ever magnetically irrevocably drawn on.
Into distant heartfelt healing hellebore future.
Excommunicating shadow. Vortex beginning. Perishing.
Seldom finding edification; release; unless extrajudical;
ecliptic; ecclesiastical time be met. And then he spoke.
'Tel Aviv is much as here.
The hills the city.
The people beneath culture.
It is different.
But it is. The same.
I was thinking that.
Two alien peopled cities
linked in swaddled spirit.'
It was on Queen Street.
While I swiftly hurried past.
Against incumbent delaying gradient,
towards my hotel. The Railton.
Which silently slowly purgatively reached out.
As artful protean angel did. To creature comfort me.
In isolation a glow an afterglow
a warmth still awakened lasts.
The Railton still preserves
the sojourn spiritual prayer.
For the silent stranger
within our welcoming gates.
The lantern glow still comforting
glow of warmth still lasts.
Lantern lit for homeless wanderers
a glow a warmth still lasts.
A Hotel With Heart
In The Heart Of The City.
Impotent To Perceive
He Who Silently Slipped Past.
Casting dissimilar disembodied shadow
across threshold of commercial hearth.
Encloaked encompassed in unfelt folds;
vibrant verse, unknown, passively passed.
Copyright © Terence George Craddock
Aotearoa The Land Of The Long White Cloud.
preternatural [med. L. praeternätürälis (1255 Albertus Magnus.
Metaph.II. xi) f. L. phr. praeter nätüram] Beyond, surpassing, or differing
from what is natural; out of the regular course of nature, not normal or
natural.
mesmerism [F.A. Mesmer (1733-1815) , Ger. physician] The art or power of inducing an abnormal state of the nervous system, in which the will of the
patient is controlled; the hypnotic state so induced. mesmeric, mesmerist,
mesmerize.
hellebore [Gr. helleboros] A plant, the Christmas rose; a plant
supposed by the ancients to be a cure for insanity.
extrajudical [f. L. exträ, beyond, from outside + jüdïci-um, judgement
+ -al] Taking place outside the court, not legally authorized; outside the
ordinary course of law or justice.
purgation [O.F. purgacion (12th c. in Hatz.-Darn.) L. purgätiön-em, of
action from purgäre to purge] The cleaning away of impurities; the cleansing
of anything from impure or extraneous matter. Act of purging, purification;
act of clearing oneself by oath or ordeal.
protean [Proteus A Greek deity who could change his shape] Readily
assuming different shapes or aspects; changeable.
sojourn [O.F. sojourner] To stay (in, among) temporarily.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Related quotes
Parallel Webs
Parallels irresistibly singular
shielding incarnate minds
journeying on voyages
across through medium time.
Vortex perishing
flesh embodiment enfolds encases
pilgrims magnetically trapped
in drama deifying living lives.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Sitting In My Hotel
If my friends could see me now, driving round just like a film star,
In a chauffeur driven jam jar, they would laugh.
They would all be saying that its not really me,
They would all be asking who Im trying to be.
If my friends could see me now,
Looking out my hotel window,
Dressed in satin strides and two-tone daisy roots,
If my friends could see me now I know they would smile.
Sitting in my hotel, hiding from the dramas of this great big world,
Seven stories high, looking at the world go by-y.
Sitting in my hotel room, thinking about the countryside and sunny days in june.
Trying to hide the gloom, sitting in my hotel room.
If my friends could see me now, dressing up in my bow-tie,
Prancing round the room like some outrageous poove,
They would tell me that Im just being used
They would ask me what Im trying to prove.
They would see me in my hotel,
Watching late shows till the morning,
Writing songs for old time vaudeville revues.
All my friends would ask me what its all leading to.
Sitting in my hotel, looking through the window at the people in the street,
Seven stories high looking at the world go by,
Sitting in my hotel, looking at the world outside.
If my friends could see me now they would try to understand me,
They would ask me what on earth Im trying to prove.
All my friends would ask me what its all leading to.
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Morning Glow
Morning glow morning glow
Starts to glimmer when you know
Winds of change are set to blow
And sweep this whole land through
Morning glow is long past due
Morning glow fill the earth
Come on shine far all youre worth
Well be present at the birth
Of all faith looking new
Morning glow is long past due
Oh oh morning glow
Id like to help you grow
You should have started long ago
Morning glow all days long
For we sing tomorrows song
Never knew we could be so strong
But now its very clear
Morning glow is almost here
Oh oh morning glow
Id like to help you grow
We should have started long ago
Morning glow all your life
We can make the new day right
All the bad songs of the night
Will fade into the past
Morning glow is here at last
song performed by by Michael Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It's A Hard Road
I jumped on the train
I left this old town
I escaped the rain
I'm no longer down
The wheels start to turn
My worries are gone
I have lots to learn
About the trail that I'm on
As I look around
I see my new friend
I know I am bound
To travel till the end
I'll travel south and I'll travel north
I'll travel east and I'll travel west
I just want to find the road that is best
The train it did slow
I'm in a new place
The moonlight does glow
On my tired face
It's time for me
To try and find a bed
It's time for me
To rest my weary head
Morning is here
There's sorting to do
I'll sound sincere
With my goodbye to you
I'll travel south and I'll travel north
I'll travel east and I'll travel west
I just want to find the road that is best
It's time to move away
I'm not satisfied
I've spent many a day
Finding a place to reside
There's a town on my mind
It's just down the track
No need to find
A way to get back
The train I will get
Sitting at the station
The future is set
I feel anticipation
I'll travel south and I'll travel north
I'll travel east and I'll travel west
I just want to find the road that is best
poem by Liam Hughes
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Recovered Heart and Mind
Recovered Heart and Mind
All is change; all yields its place and goes. (Euripedes)
I have thoughts of regrets - my long lost past
My heavy pain now white-feathered yet void of respite and disdain,
My mind and heart now wandering through wild sunflower fields
The memory of my misty past now glowing in my heart,
Like a sunflower's glow of the day - dried up the mist away.
And pain no longer hides behind my smiling eyes,
It left in grace and withered in the glow of the sunny day,
And so my heart that leant itself one time, unleashed its deadened
Dream and walked right back with confidence;
And reign again in my once contented heart and mind.
The elusive dreams I once embroidered over my heart
Now hustled back into my once confused - now sensible mind,
The new tomorrow that spun its way deep down into my heart
Embroidered itself deeper, this time a queen of heart. My once
Insensible and naive heart resolves to dance one music at a time.
poem by Jona PoloRamirez
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Love Hotel
If you travel with
Those who know you well
I can recommend
Stay at love hotel.
Every room a hallway
Softly sell
Dont get stranded on the lift
Of the love hotel
Love hotel, love hotel, love hotel.
Dont deny yourself
It wants simple truth
Ring for give and take
As the floor and room.
Every room a hallway
Who can tell
Dont get stranded by the lift
Of the love hotel
Love hotel, love hotel, love hotel.
Every room a hallway
Softly sell
Dont get stranded by the lift
Of the love hotel
Love hotel, love hotel.
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Who Is Complete A Stranger?
True our roads
have lead
to many strange
journeys
uncommon sights
adventures
experiences.
Who is
complete
a stranger
to native land
a normal life
of common
aspirations?
You who
adventure
not
however
are blessed
where
you are meant
to be
and you
have time
enough
for travel
by hotel
tourist
brochure.
If time
if money
allow?
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Walk With My Spirit
In a hotel room watching the white snow fall
Glistening past with beckoning mossy leaves,
Drape with beauty outside upon the wall
Silent ice in the night hung from the trees.
In the gentle night I took a walk with my spirit,
Snow caught my eyes fluttering with little wings,
They try to fly flapping with all their might,
But end up covering the street and soak clothes.
Cold sober response shook the worn knees,
And my tearing teeth broke lamentable silence,
A smitten figure misplace in night ease,
Try to walk outside upon snows frozen ice.
My limbs dug tunnels and tried to hold me tight,
But the ground took my stride to skip and dance,
I walk the path where the street had gone,
For once in my life I felt carried by a spirit.
Along the path set for me with beaten snow,
I started to float and struggle to find a way home,
I should have sunk deep in sleep by now,
Instead, plague with regret; I am out on my own.
I went where footsteps lost their charms,
The softer images in mind losing the fight,
Trying to stay alive swaying with my hips and arms,
The images weren't meant to last through the night.
poem by Gerry Legister
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Relating To Robinson
Somewhere in Chelsea, early summer;
And, walking in the twilight toward the docks,
I thought I made out Robinson ahead of me.
From an uncurtained second-story room, a radio
Was playing There’s a Small Hotel; a kite
Twisted above dark rooftops and slow drifting birds.
We were alone there, he and I,
Inhabiting the empty street.
Under a sign for Natural Bloom Cigars,
While lights clicked softly in the dusk from red to green,
He stopped and gazed into a window
Where a plaster Venus, modeling a truss,
Looked out at Eastbound traffic. (But Robinson,
I knew, was out of town: he summers at a place in Maine,
Sometimes on Fire Island, sometimes the Cape,
Leaves town in June and comes back after Labor Day.)
And yet, I almost called out, “Robinson!”
There was no chance. Just as I passed,
Turning my head to search his face,
His own head turned with mine
And fixed me with dilated, terrifying eyes
That stopped my blood. His voice
Came at me like an echo in the dark.
“I thought I saw the whirlpool opening.
Kicked all night at a bolted door.
You must have followed me from Astor Place.
An empty paper floats down at the last.
And then a day as huge as yesterday in pairs
Unrolled its horror on my face
Until it blocked—” Running in sweat
To reach the docks, I turned back
For a second glance. I had no certainty,
There in the dark, that it was Robinson
Or someone else.
The block was bare. The Venus,
Bathed in blue fluorescent light,
Stared toward the river. As I hurried West,
The lights across the bay were coming on.
The boats moved silently and the low whistles blew.
poem by Weldon Kees
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Night Traveler
I am a night traveler
Travel all through the night
And my bed is a sailing boat
I reach for my bed every night
And take a trip places far away
To see new things and people
I travel past the harbors
Full of anchored boats
I travel past the beaches
With swaying coconut trees
I watch the waves
Embracing the shore
I watch the kids playing
And reach out my arms
Then I touch my own bed
Here comes a flash
And my boat is back
And I am back in bed
My boat sails every night
And reach home with morning light
Never did it anchor once
Still traveling every day
Hoping to reach
That unknown destination
poem by Deepa Thomas
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A Night Traveler
I am a night traveler
Travel all through the night
And my bed is a sailing boat
I reach for my bed every night
And take a trip places far away
To see new things and people
I travel past the harbors
Full of anchored boats
I travel past the beaches
With swaying coconut trees
I watch the waves
Embracing the shore
I watch the kids playing
And reach out my arms
Then I touch my own bed
Here comes a flash
And my boat is back
And I am back in bed
My boat sails every night
And reach home with morning light
Never did it anchor once
Still traveling every day
Hoping to reach
That unknown destination
poem by Selam G. Sekuar
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Hejira
Im traveling in some vehicle
Im sitting in some cafe
A defector from the petty wars
That shell shock love away
Theres comfort in melancholy
When theres no need to explain
Its just as natural as the weather
In this moody sky today
In our possessive coupling
So much could not be expressed
So now Im returning to myself
These things that you and I suppressed
I see something of myself in everyone
Just at this moment of the world
As snow gathers like bolts of lace
Waltzing on a ballroom girl
You know it never has been easy
Whether you do or you do not resign
Whether you travel the breadth of extremities
Or stick to some straighter line
Now heres a man and a woman sitting on a rock
Theyre either going to thaw out or freeze
Listen...
Strains of benny goodman
Coming thru the snow and the pinewood trees
Im porous with travel fever
But you know Im so glad to be on my own
Still somehow the slightest touch of a stranger
Can set up trembling in my bones
I know - no ones going to show me everything
We all come and go unknown
Each so deep and superficial
Between the forceps and the stone
Well I looked at the granite markers
Those tribute to finality - to eternity
And then I looked at myself here
Chicken scratching for my immortality
In the church they light the candles
And the wax rolls down like tears
Theres the hope and the hopelessness
Ive witnessed thirty years
Were only particles of change I know, I know
Orbiting around the sun
But how can I have that point of view
When Im always bound and tied to someone
White flags of winter chimneys
Waving truce against the moon
In the mirrors of a modern bank
>from the window of a hotel room
Im traveling in some vehicle
Im sitting in some cafe
A defector from the petty wars
Until love sucks me back that way
song performed by by Joni Mitchell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Growing Up
Folded in your fleshy purse
I am floating once again
While the muted sounds are pumping rhythm
All the walls close in on me
Pressures building wave on wave
til the water breaks and outside I go, oh
One dot, thats on or off, defines what is and what is not, one dot
Two dot, a pair of eyes, a voice, a touch, complete surprise, two dot
Growing up, growing up,
Looking for a place to live
Growing up, growing up
Looking for a place to live
Growing up, growing up,
Looking for a place to live
My ghost likes to travel so far in the unknown
My ghost likes to travel so deep into your space
Three dot, a trinity, a way to map the universe,
Three dot
Four dot, is what will make a square, a bed to build on, its all there,
Four dot
My ghost likes to travel so far in the unknown
My ghost likes to travel so deep into your space
All the slow clouds pass us by
Make the empire state look high
As you take me in your sea-stained sweetness
It spills, it tingles and it stings
All the pleasure that it brings
til the door has let the outside inside here
Well on the floor theres a long wooden table
On the table theres an open book
On the page theres a detailed drawing
And on the drawing is the name I took
My ghost likes to travel so far in the unknown
My ghost likes to travel so deep into your space
Growing up, growing up,
Looking for a place to live
Growing up, growing up
Looking for a place to live
Growing up, growing up,
Looking for a place to live
Growing up, growing up,
Looking for a place to live
My ghost likes to travel
My ghost likes to travel
Moving inside of your space
My ghost likes to travel
My ghost likes to travel
Moving inside of your space
My ghost likes to travel
Moving inside
My ghost likes to travel
Moving inside of your space
My ghost likes to travel
Moving inside
My ghost likes to travel
Moving inside of your space
The breathing stops, I dont know when
In transition once again
Such a struggle getting through these changes
And it all seems so absurd
To be flying like a bird
When I do not feel Ive really landed here
song performed by by Peter Gabriel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Room At The Heartbreak Hotel
From where I stand
I can see thrugh you
From where youre sitting, pretty one
I know it got to you
I see the stars in your eyes
You want the truth, but you need the lies
Like judy garland, like valentino
You give your life for rock n roll
Uh huh
Stand, were on a landslide of love
You got everything you want
But what you need you give away
For primitive love
And a ride on the mistery train
A primitive love
A room at the heart...
The heartbreak hotel
A room at the heartbreak
Heartbreak hotel
A room at the heartbreak
Heartbreak hotel
You say its love, its not the money
You let them suck your life out like honey
Turning tricks, youre on the street
Selling your kisses so bittersweet
[gospel voices]
A primitive love
A and a ride on the mistery train
A primitive love
A room at the heart
The heartbreak hotel
A room at the heartbreak, the heartbreak,
The heartbreak hotel, hotel
[repeat until end]
song performed by by U2
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Time Travel
We travel through time daily, crossing decades
Yet we focus on the past
We close our eyes and begin to venture minutes, hours in reverse
Searching for opportunities we may have may have missed
Reminiscing about the good times we had
We have invented time travel yet we manage to search for it
It's like trying to find a cure to insanity, we already have it
Now it's time to just use it. May your travels be safe
poem by Khaleel Steir
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Travel to the place...
Travel to the place
Where mind set to peace,
No one can see,
Feel us free.
Travel to the place
Where we can breathe,
Fill our desire,
We wish; we aspire.
Travel to the place
Where we have silence,
Flower of fragrance,
And nature to admire.
Travel to the place
Where we can write,
Lines of rhyme,
At any time.
Travel to the place
Where we have enough space,
Work without race,
No tension on face.
Travel to the place
Where we can dance,
Sing at glance,
Bit of time to romance.
Travel to the place
Where we spread love,
Freedom to serve
And land to move.
Travel to the place
Where we can live,
Of joy and sprinkle its grace,
And do anything, anywhere.
poem by Divyesh J. Shah
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The Unknown Star
I was born of an unknown star, of a mother who did not know herself-
From the very beginning I was a canary that could not sing and who
Would fall to the ground every time I lifted my wings to fly-
Trapped inside a cage of my own delusions,
I was alone looking upward towards that clouded sky, searching for that unknown star,
Where by chance I could find a place where I would belong-
My mother wept a wide stream of tears
Not to be consoled from the deep pain that tore at her heart-
The day I lost myself to another world, she abandoned me as agony wrenched her soul-
A phantasmal canary lying still at the bottom of my cage-
Hiding behind a rainbow looking for rays of hope,
Trying to deafen the voices only I could hear,
Searching for that unknown star,
I would dance in the rain beneath the faint light of the moon at night
Seeking for myself, that person I could not find, however
All I could find was a shadow upon the wall-
A shadow upon the wall I hardly recognized as myself,
A reflection within a pond which was that stream of my mother’s tears-
Dancing in the rain trying to become somebody,
Somebody famous or a perhaps an angel or a saint,
Trapped inside a cage of my own apparition where dense cloud cover barred me from
That unknown star where I might feel at home-
Looking about me at hillsides I might have tried to climb-all I could see was my shadow.
A shadow upon a hillside or inside, a shadow upon the wall,
A vague reflection within a pool of tears- Seemingly eyes of a ghost staring into mine,
Reading the demonic thoughts that raced inside of my mind-
Born of an unknown star, I had never found a home and
Born of an unknown star, I had never found myself-
Searching inside and outside all I could ever see was
A dark shadow of a lost person with no destiny or direction-
That canary that could not sing or fly, or perhaps a being who
Tried to come to life dancing in the rain beneath the faint moonlight- I became
A shadow dancing beneath the light of that unknown star I could not reach-
Hoping someday I would save the souls of those who despair and expectantly
Someday I would become that canary, but lifting my wings to fly and bursting into song,
Joyfully watching the sunrise as the moon would vanish
Behind disappearing dark clouds of despair.
poem by Claudia Krizay
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Breath by Breath
Our moments are precious and
Our time is now.
Use it wisely and use it well!
There is no connecting the past
And future. The presence is the
in-between and only lasts but
Less than a breath.
The presence is so fast,
a blink of an eye and it is the past!
Then are we really living our future with
each inhale and our past goes out
with each exhale?
Are is it really just a pretence of presence?
Future - Past,
Future - Past,
Future - Past!
poem by JDarrell Kirkley
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Automaton
He arrived on the scene
With no past and no future
He seemed to know your dreams
Replace tears with laughter
Street corner whispers
Would mention his name
Selfish? benevolent?
What was his game
Some say hes perfect
Some say a spy
A hidden power
They all wonder why
The rumors mounted
But still no fact?
I need to find out
Some say perfect hidden power
We all wonder why
Questions unanswered
Suspicion alerted
I went round to his place
If felt quite deserted
I climbed the stairs to where
His body lay without motion
No spirit lives in there
The cord had been broken
His skin was reptile
No life in there
Not young not old
A long hollow glare
His breath had stopped
No hearts beat there
Is this a man
Should I believe hidden power
They all wondered why
My attention was caught
By a sound from the door
Panic gripped the mind
What lay in store
A being stared at me
Benevolent, not cold
Automaton - he is controlled
His skin was reptile.....
Automaton - no life in there
No past and no future
Is this a man
Automaton - no life in there
No past and not future
Is this a man
song performed by by Howard Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Face of the City
The glow of a late Autumn Sunset,
Gleamed over the dense city streets.
Rushing wheels and honking horns,
Halted awhile for the traffic signs.
Through the rows of rushing motors,
Men on bikes ploughed their way.
They squished and squeezed through every gap,
Caring a naught for the traffic rules.
With jarring siren, the Ambulance jeep,
Speeded past for Emergency aid.
The patient inside, in writhing pain,
Lay stressed on every hurdle raced.
Ladies holding children in hands,
And people bent with growing age,
Remained planted at the zebra cross,
Waiting to move to the opposite side.
As the tired people back from work,
Hurried away to reach their homes,
The jovial band in easeful mood,
Treaded towards the city parks.
Fortune tellers with their Tarot cards,
Held their clients in great suspense,
The street hawkers on tiled pavements,
Squatted beside their cheap merchandise.
Scores of men who treaded on foot,
Grew to Hundreds in a short awhile,
These were folks right from the show,
The Block buster had drawn hoards of men.
When young Dandies in tawdry dress,
Dallied round with their ladies love,
Street urchins in tattered clothes,
Went searching in the garbage pile.
While decrepit old beggars lay drowsy,
On the cement benches in wayside shelters,
The affluent Sahibs in plush restaurants,
Feasted on their cocktail dinners.
The city thus with its motley crowd,
Paints life in contrast shades,
For Fortune, with her alluring charms,
Favours a few and leaves the rest.
poem by Valsa George
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