
The Year's Awakening
How do you know that the pilgrim track
Along the belting zodiac
Swept by the sun in his seeming rounds
Is traced by now to the Fishes' bounds
And into the Ram, when weeks of cloud
Have wrapt the sky in a clammy shroud,
And never as yet a tinct of spring
Has shown in the Earth's apparelling;
O vespering bird, how do you know,
How do you know?
How do you know, deep underground,
Hid in your bed from sight and sound,
Without a turn in temperature,
With weather life can scarce endure,
That light has won a fraction's strength,
And day put on some moments' length,
Whereof in merest rote will come,
Weeks hence, mild airs that do not numb;
O crocus root, how do you know,
How do you know?
poem by Thomas Hardy

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8 Weeks
8 weeks to live
8 weeks to die
8 weeks is all they had
8 weeks to do the things they never did
8 weeks of fighting
8 weeks of trying to fit everything in
8 weeks of pain, suffering, and confusion
8 weeks of faking a smile
8 weeks of repetition
8 weeks of knowing they were nearing the end
8 weeks of love from friends and family
8 weeks…the shortest/longest, most hurtful/helpful weeks of their lives
8 weeks later…knowing they’ll never be able to do the things they’ve always wanted to
8 weeks later…now realizing he’ll never see her walk, at graduation nor down the aisle
8 weeks later…close friends and family now in shambles
8 weeks later…close friends and family never closer
8 weeks later…here we are
poem by Anthony Martello

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Yeah, about sixteen to twenty weeks a year. For example, we can do America in six or seven weeks. You can do Europe in three weeks; England in two weeks. South America you could do in three weeks; Asia you could do in three weeks.
quote by Warren Cuccurullo

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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11 Weeks
11 weeks of war and 11 weeks of peace,
11 weeks of love and 11 weeks of pain,
11 weeks of sorrow ans 11 weeks of my mind that writes;
But i need hot chili pepper from Chile and,
A rosted turkey from Turkey to rest my mind on your love.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis

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Exposing Myself
My walls are broken,
no mote to be found,
just my heart......
laying on the ground.
I stare so blankly,
I try to understand....
Weeks, and weeks....
I lay in the dark...
no one can reach me,
life and me...
tooo far apart.
I feel a tug here and there,
my inner feelings to my friends...
seems so unfair...
I JUST DON'T CARE! ! !
I've been so sad for so very long,
with moments of me..
trying to be strong...
I'll do what it is I have to do...
be a good mama,
help them through...
What effect...
what am I doing?
So stripped of any hope,
so beyond!
No one can reach me,
no one
Damn it.......
I have to find strength...
I just do...
So GOD...
HERE...
MY BURDEN FOR YOU! ! !
This Morning
Nothing left to feel
Nothing more to do
Nothing left to give
Nothing more in you
Nothing else to have or hold
Nothing left, but time to go
Time to go
Years go by
Didn't really say that much at all
And moments just fly
Didn't ever really touch at all
Weeks always run down
Didn't really get that close at all
And days, days fall out
Didn't ever really know at all
And then we're here in a room too clean and too bright
She stares at you for an hour
You stare into the light
For one last hour in the room
So mean and so white
I stare at her in this room as she stares into the night
Nothing left to feel
Nothing more to do
Nothing left to ask
Nothing more of you
Nothing else to share or show
Nothing left but time to go
In his eyes as we turn no eternity of life
In his eyes as we turn no infinity of why
In his eyes as we turn no beautiful goodbye
In his eyes as we turn...nothing but tears
In his eyes as we turn...nothing but tears
(spoken:) I couldn't understand too much of what was being said
In a matter of minutes
Peacefully so slow
I had to think to breathe
My heart burst
We moved in silence really slowly away from the world
As we drove a strange silence
That moment
Nothing will ever be the same
Nothing will ever be the same
Nothing will ever be the same
Days fall out
Weeks always run down
Moments just fly
Weeks go by
And then we're here
And then we're here in a room too clean and too bright
I stare at you for an hour
You stare into the light
For one last hour in the room so mean and so white
You stare at me in this room as I stare into the night
Nothing left to feel
Nothing more to do
Nothing more to take
Nothing more from you
Nothing else to need or know
There's nothing left at all...but time to go
song performed by by Cure

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Spring Flowers ~ Crocus
Crocus flowers daring tiny warriors
Fighting their way up through
The winter ice
Crocus darling early Spring harbingers
Promising days will soon
Be turning nice
Tiny Crocus flowers grow in close groups
Strength in numbers seeking
Where winter snows still may lie
Encircled encampment of floral troupes
“We march onward to spring”
They raise this brave battle cry
Bold strength contained in Crocus so small
Should winter challenge again
They simply refuse to die
Delicate blossoms possess such wherewithal
I cannot help but wonder then
Should not likewise you and I?
poem by Mary Havran

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Storm
The tempest mounts the sky! with hurrying sweep,
Driving across the heavens, cloud on cloud,
Which ever and anon the lightnings steep
In a red glare of flame, as they were proud
To make more visible the gloomy shroud,
That wraps the thunders:—Now its might is nigh!
And faster peal and flame alternate crowd,
And the loosed winds sweep onward fearfully,
Outpouring on the earth the fountains of the sky.
'T is terrible—yet most sublimely grand!
Magnificently awful! how the heart
Shrinks from all earthly splendour, as we stand,
And view the pomp of the proud storm—I start,
As the fork'd flames their glance of brightness dart,
Yet scarce in terror, for the tempest's might,
Yields of its own sublimity a part,
To the wrapt thoughts, and urges up their flight,
With free and eagle wing, above their wonted height.
Yet soon to stoop again—the green earth lies
Spread out before me, and the heart will yield
To the sweet sympathy of human ties,
And downward bend from the excursive field
Of reverie, where it had been upheld
With a strong writhe of thought, to blend again
With human sorrows—woes that might be heal'd,
If man would be no more the scourge of man,
And loose his brother's limbs from slavery's crushing chain.
Yet even now, amid the heavy clouds
That long have wrapt the Afric's sky in gloom,
Ten-fold more deep than that which darkly shrouds
The face of nature, there at length hath come
The breaking in of light, which shall illume
With a strong glow, ere long, its whole expanse,
And, shining on destroy'd oppression's tomb,
O'er all the earth its holy light advance,
Brilliant and clear and wide as the first sunbeam's glance.
poem by Elizabeth Margaret Chandler from Poetical Works (1836)

Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Last Three Weeks 5-11-09
The last three weeks are:
crazy
heaktic
busy
tireing
exaugh sting
The last three weeks are:
full of test
parties
exams
food
movies
The last three weeks are:
exciting
emotional
no seniors, well for a week
losts of homework
no homework
The last three weeks mean
that school is almost out,
start counting down the days,
graduation,
awards,
SUMMER IS ALMOST HERE! !
Such Beautiful Weather
The wattlebirds calling on the flowering gum trees
On a beautiful day in mid Winter of around eighteen degrees
Such beautiful weather for the time of year
Six weeks to September and Spring is drawing near
A pair of magpies with nesting material for their nest nearby
Make a whirring sound with their wings as they fly
Their young will be fully fledsged by early Spring
The wonders of Nature is a marvellous thing
With black, gold and gray feathers one cannot get wrong
The beautiful bird with the ordinary song
The new holland honeyeater searching for insects and nectar their chirpings one can hear
On a beautiful day for July of the year
September and Spring it is not far away
And we ought to feel glad for this beautiful day.
poem by Francis Duggan

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It Is So Warm For Early In December
It is so warm for early in December the birds are panting and scarce a puff of breeze
And the tar is boiling on the sunlit roadway in temperatures of over thirty degrees
How come it's so warm this early on in Summer? we hear the scientists talk of the ozone hole
If this be true we have influenced the weather and the temperatures not beyond our control.
Some scientists claim it's due to man's pollution that we experience the weather extremes
The water now is down to a slow trickle in the polluted rivers, creeks and streams
Three weeks ago the low lying paddocks flooded the changes a few warm weeks can bring
And the farmers they are praying for rain already although we've had big rainfalls through the Spring
Each year the Summer temperatures keep rising and the warm weather goes into late Fall
And despite the first week of heavy rains the weather bureau
claim it's been the warmest November of them all
'Twould seem the coastal towns will do well for Christmas and traffic jams on the highway to the sea
And New Year's day will find them by the ocean the working man and his wife and family.
It is so warm for early in December and Summer days have only just begun
And people already wearing their sun hats and sun screens to keep away the cruel rays of the sun
And some scientists claim that the extremes of weather is or was never beyond our control
And that modern man who creates much pollution is responsible for the big ozone hole.
poem by Francis Duggan

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Time Is Of The Essance
The days pass from one to another
coming and going as the melting snow
days turn to weeks and weeks turn to months
the clock spins faster with every passing second
you cant rewind the past
you cant speed up the future
sometimes all you can do is press play
poem by Damien Weber

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Philippians 4: 13
The strength to resist the night
The strength to endure the day
The strength to keep righteous paths in sight
The strength to take them without delay
The strength to find a purpose in life
The strength to find the truths it brings
The strength to kick away from strife
The strength to stabalize the rock it clings
The strength to light a friend’s day up
The strength to resist wrathful foes
The strength to fill a stranger’s dry cup
The strength to shun sin when it opposed
The strength to feel a injured man’s pain
The strength to hold a reject’s hand
The strength to act against any gain
The strength to love without demand
The strength to understand that our King
Has blessed us with more than we can contain
Therefore regardless what time may bring
The strength will continue to reign
poem by Anders Lim

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What Will I Do / For The Weeks In Traveling
WHAT WILL I DO/ FOR THE WEEKS IN TRAVELING
What will I do
For the weeks in Traveling
Without a Computer
An Internet
An ability to write
To post my poems and thoughts
To leave more material
For remembrance
More of myself
For Posterity?
What will I do
When I cannot pretend
I am making myself live
Beyond my lifetime
By writing?
What will I do when
I have to just live
Present to present
Without any sense
That something of this passing time
Will endure?
What will I do
When I do not have
This little way
of making meaning in my life
I have now,
However questionable and troubled
This is?
poem by Shalom Freedman

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Though Some Good Things Of Lower Worth
The Lord is the portion of mine inheritance. Psalm 16:5.
Though some good things of lower worth
My heart is called on to resign,
Of all the gifts in heaven and earth,
The greatest and the best is mine
The love of God in Christ made known
The love that is enough alone,
My Father's love is all my own.
My soul's Restorer, let me learn
In that deep love to live and rest
Let me the precious thing discern
Of which I am indeed possessed.
My treasure let me feel and see,
And let my moments, as they flee,
Unfold my endless life in Thee.
Let me not dwell so much within
My bounded heart, with anxious heed
Where all my searches meet with sin,
And nothing satisfies my need
It shuts me from the sound and sight
Of that pure world of life and light,
Which has no breadth, or length, or height.
Let me Thy power, Thy beauty see;
So shall the hopeless labor cease,
And my free heart shall follow thee
Through paths of everlasting peace.
My strength Thy gift, my life Thy care,
I shall forget to seek elsewhere
The wealth to which my soul is heir.
I was not called to walk alone,
To clothe myself with love and light;
And for Thy glory, not my own,
My soul is precious in Thy sight.
My evil heart can never be
A home, a heritage for me
But Thou canst make it fit for Thee.
poem by Anna Laetitia Waring

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Chosen
The lot of love is chosen. I learnt that much
Struggling for an image on the track
Of the whirling Zodiac.
Scarce did he my body touch,
Scarce sank he from the west
Or found a subtetranean rest
On the maternal midnight of my breast
Before I had marked him on his northern way,
And seemed to stand although in bed I lay.
I struggled with the horror of daybreak,
I chose it for my lot! If questioned on
My utmost pleasure with a man
By some new-married bride, I take
That stillness for a theme
Where his heart my heart did seem
And both adrift on the miraculous stream
Where -- wrote a learned astrologer --
The Zodiac is changed into a sphere.
poem by William Butler Yeats

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Wattle
Wattle wattle everywhere
Wattle we do next wattle
Yellow life exploding out from each coarse stem
Joyful for a few short weeks
A few short weeks and then
Scrub wattle dry wattle
Until spring comes again.
poem by David Keig

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Monsoon
The Sun is nowhere to be seen,
Nor is there a trace where it had been.
The shy Sun hides its face
Behind its friend The Grey Cloud.
The Cloud oozes tears of joy and sorrow;
A melancholic sight!
And thunderous laughter.
For it saw its friend,
The Earth one long year ago!
Which now lies parched and dry below.
The tears of The Cloud,
Quench The Earth's bowel.
Till it can drink no more!
The Earth once lifeless,
Now ebbs with beauty
And life endless.
Now jealous, the once shy Sun,
Craves the limelight of its friend The Cloud!
Occasionally succeeding,
The Sun spreads its rays of smile,
While its friend The Cloud sheds its tears of joy!
A competition so good,
It lightens up the whole sky!
A fabulous feast for the eye!
Seven bright streaks with no beginning or end;
Rendered in the sky,
Which looks anew,
From The Earth below.
A beautiful light and sound orchestra!
poem by Vivian Thompson

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The Valse
When to sweet music my lady is dancing
My heart to mild frenzy her beauty inspires.
Into my face are her brown eyes a-glancing,
And swift my whole frame thrills with tremulous fires.
Dance, lady, dance, for the moments are fleeting,
Pause not to place yon refractory curl;
Life is for love and the night is for sweeting;
Dreamily, joyously, circle and whirl.
Oh, how those viols are throbbing and pleading;
A prayer is scarce needed in sound of their strain.
Surely and lightly as round you are speeding,
You turn to confusion my heart and my brain.
Dance, lady, dance to the viol's soft calling,
Skip it and trip it as light as the air;
Dance, for the moments like rose leaves are falling,
Strikes, now, the clock from its place on the stair.
Now sinks the melody lower and lower,
The weary musicians scarce seeming to play.
Ah, love, your steps now are slower and slower,
The smile on your face is more sad and less gay.
Dance, lady, dance to the brink of our parting,
My heart and your step must not fail to be light.
Dance! Just a turn--tho' the tear-drop be starting.
Ah--now it is done--so--my lady, good-night!
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar

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Cord Of Life
A man conceived a moments answers to the dream,
Staying the flowers daily, sensing all the themes.
As a foundation left to create the spiral aim,
A movement regained and regarded both the same,
All complete in the sight of seeds of life with you.
Changed only for a sight of sound, the space agreed.
Between the picture of time behind the face of need,
Coming quickly to terms of all expression laid,
Emotion revealed as the ocean maid,
All complete in the sight of seeds of life with you.
Oh.
Turn round tailor, coins and
Assaulting all the mornings of the crosses
Interest shown, never know
Presenting one another to the cord, their fruitless worth;
All left dying, rediscovered cords are broken,
Of the door that turned round, locked inside
To close the cover, the mother earth.
All the interest shown, they wont
To turn one another, to the sign hide, hold, they wont
At the time tell you, watching the world,
To float your climb. watching all of the world,
Watching us go by.
And you and I climb over the sea to the valley,
And you and I reached out for reasons to call.
song performed by by Yes

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cord Of Life
A man conceived a moments answers to the dream,
Staying the flowers daily, sensing all the themes.
As a foundation left to create the spiral aim,
A movement regained and regarded both the same,
All complete in the sight of seeds of life with you.
Changed only for a sight of sound, the space agreed.
Between the picture of time behind the face of need,
Coming quickly to terms of all expression laid,
Emotion revealed as the ocean maid,
All complete in the sight of seeds of life with you.
Oh.
Turn round tailor, coins and
Assaulting all the mornings of the crosses
Interest shown, never know
Presenting one another to the cord, their fruitless worth;
All left dying, rediscovered cords are broken,
Of the door that turned round, locked inside
To close the cover, the mother earth.
All the interest shown, they wont
To turn one another, to the sign hide, hold, they wont
At the time tell you, watching the world,
To float your climb. watching all of the world,
Watching us go by.
And you and I climb over the sea to the valley,
And you and I reached out for reasons to call.
song performed by by Yes

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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