Two Found Poems in 'For Whom the Bell Tolls
'I believe
that I could walk up
to the mill and
knock on the door and
I would be welcome
except that they have orders
to challenge all travelers
and ask to see their papers.
It is only orders
that come between us.
Those men
are not fascists.
I call them so, but
they are not.
They are poor men,
as we are.'
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
'...he is finished
and as ended
as a boar
that has been altered.
...when the altering
has been accopmlished
and the squealing
is over
you cast
the two stones away
and the boar,
that is a boar no longer,
goes snounting
and rooting
up to them
and eats them.'
poem by Tom J. Mariani
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Silver Anniversary
There beyond the shrub
the sun medallions on the grass
around a python and boar,
the python winding.
Through binoculars I see
the python work so slow.
The boar now knows
what I learned long ago.
To go this way
takes years.
poem by Donal Mahoney
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Orders From Headquarters
Mathew 20: 28
Just as the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and give His life as a ransom for many
Jesus himself came to follow orders. And a great one too. To sacrifice His life for ours. To save us.
Not many like to take orders. Yet in reality, we take orders everyday. Whether it's work, school, parents, or even sports. We are all obliged to take orders whether we like it or not. Why is that though?
Most of the time we take orders from those we need. For example, your boss at work. You take his orders because you need the money. Or your teachers. You take their commands because you're looking to graduate.
In retrospect, we need to follow God's orders because we need Jesus more than anything in this world. He's our provider, our light, our breath of everyday, our everything.
He gave us orders, and that's to serve Him. So how much more do we need to carry out His orders? Jesus did it. So how much more do we?
These are the orders from headquarters, carry out His commandments, seek Him. Evangelize, and care for others according to His will.
In the Name of Jesus. Amen.
poem by Rafael Barboza
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The Death of Adonis
Cythera saw Adonis
And knew that he was dead;
She marked the brow, all grisly now,
The cheek no longer red;
And 'Bring the boar before me'
Unto her Loves she said.
Forthwith her winged attendants
Ranged all the woodland o'er,
And found and bound in fetters
Threefold the grisly boar:
One dragged him at a rope's end
E'en as a vanquished foe;
One went behind and drave him
And smote him with his bow:
On paced the creature feebly;
He feared Cythera so.
To him said Aphrodite:
'So, worst of beasts, 'twas you
Who rent that thigh asunder,
Who him that loved me slew?'
And thus the beast made answer:
'Cythera, hear me swear
By thee, by him that loved thee,
And by these bonds I wear,
And them before whose hounds I ran-
I meant no mischief to the man
Who seemed to thee so fair.
'As on a carven statue
Men gaze, I gazed on him;
I seemed on fire with mad desire
To kiss that offered limb:
My ruin, Aphrodite,
Thus followed from my whim.
'Now therefore take and punish
And fairly cut away
These all unruly tusks of mine;
For to what end serve they?
And if thine indignation
Be not content with this,
Cut off the mouth that ventured
To offer him a kiss'-
But Aphrodite pitied
And bade them loose his chain.
The boar from that day forward
Still followed in her train;
Nor ever to the wildwood
Attempted to return,
But in the focus of Desire
Preferred to burn and burn.
poem by Theocritus
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Call It Evil (demo)
I've been around watching little late shows
Drink a lot of beer
Like playing cards with my friends
Call it evil
Call it pain
It goes knock, knock, knock-knock-knock-knock, on my door
It goes knock, knock, knock-knock-knock-knock, on my door
That rock and rock, yeah, call it evil
That rock and rock, yeah, call it evil
Knock, knock, knock, knock, knock, knock, on my door, Yeah!
Knock, knock, knock, knock, knock, knock, on my door
Going to get as my babe.
It goes knock, knock, knock, knock, knock, knock, on my door
Playing sopwith in the back of my head
What you trying to be crazy?
People look at me, they look at me, but you're dead
Call it evil
Call it pain
It goes knock, knock, knock-knock-knock-knock, on my door
It goes knock, knock, knock-knock-knock-knock, come on
Knock-knock-knock-knock, one more
Knock-knock-knock-knock
That rock and rock, yeah, call it evil
That rock and rock, yeah, call it evil
Knock, knock, knock, knock, knock, knock, on my door
Knock, knock, knock, knock, knock, knock, on my door
Knock, knock, knock, knock, knock, knock, on my door
Knock, knock, knock, knock, knock, knock, on my door
song performed by by Alice Cooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The silver-fanged boar [Mistreţul cu colţi de argint]
A prince from the East who loved hunting with passion
through woods vast and gloomy was toiling ahead.
He crossed the green thickets in recklessly fashion
And playing a bone flute he merrily said:
- Come, folks, let's go hunting in forests forbidden
the silver-fanged boar, who is savage and sly,
and daily he changes, in hollow-trees hidden,
his hoof and his fur and his glittering eye...
- O, master, the servants with bugles were calling,
that fierce ugly boar to come here never dares.
Let's chase some big antlers, it's equal enthralling,
or red colored foxes, or small fearful hares...
The prince smiled undaunted neglecting the riot
and passed through the trees admiring their dyes,
but left in their shelter the deer frail and quiet
as well as the lynx, with its small glowing eyes.
And under the beech trees through bushes would wander,
Then stopped: - Lo, he's waiting for us, rest assured,
the silver-fanged boar, you can see him, it's yonder,
come quickly, let's hit him with arrows of wood!...
- O, master, it's only a creek that is steaming,
his servant replied as if tried to implore.
But turning around he said: - Hush! I'm not dreaming...
And that creek did flash like a fang of a boar.
Then runs under elm trees, his servants he rallies:
- Look there, how he grunts and scratches with zeal
the silver-fanged boar the slopes and the valleys:
come quickly, let's hit him with arrows of steel!...
- O, master, it's only the grass we are seeing,
his servant replied as if tried to implore.
But turning around he said: - Hush! I'm not dreaming...
And that meadow shone like a fang of a boar.
From under tall firs he would urge them unthreatened:
- Let's go to the ridge, where reposes our game,
this boar, silver-fanged, from the popular legend:
come quickly, let's hit him with arrows of flame!...
- O, master, it's only the moon, which is gleaming,
his servant replied as if tried to implore.
But turning around he said: - Hush! I'm not dreaming...
And moon gleamed above like a fang of a boar.
But woe! When the sky pallid stars was displaying
late at dusk at a spring he fell with a thud,
and a huge sharp-fanged boar dragged him, gracefully swaying,
through the dust which at once was reddened with blood.
- What's this strange ugly creature which tears me apart,
and stops me from hunting the boar in his den?
What black bird in the moonlight cries for me in its heart?
What dead leaf beats my face again and again?...
- O, master, the boar with his fangs bright as silver,
has caught you and, grunting, escapes through the brush.
The hounds bark and chase him, to corner him thither...
However, the prince turned around and said: - Hush!
Blow loudly the bugle, let all hear its whining,
Until I am dead to the sky send its song...
The moon crossed the ridges and quickly stopped shining
and sounded the bugle, but not for so long.
poem by Ştefan Augustin Doinaş, translated by Octavian Cocoş
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The Stars Go Over The Lonely Ocean
Unhappy about some far off things
That are not my affair, wandering
Along the coast and up the lean ridges,
I saw in the evening
The stars go over the lonely ocean,
And a black-maned wild boar
Plowing with his snout on Mal Paso Mountain.
The old monster snuffled, "Here are sweet roots,
Fat grubs, slick beetles and sprouted acorns.
The best nation in Europe has fallen,
And that is Finland,
But the stars go over the lonely ocean,"
The old black-bristled boar,
Tearing the sod on Mal Paso Mountain.
"The world's in a bad way, my man,
And bound to be worse before it mends;
Better lie up in the mountain here
Four or five centuries,
While the stars go over the lonely ocean,"
Said the old father of wild pigs,
Plowing the fallow on Mal Paso Mountain.
"Keep clear of the dupes that talk democracy
And the dogs that talk revolution,
Drunk with talk, liars and believers.
I believe in my tusks.
Long live freedom and damn the ideologies,"
Said the gamey black-maned boar
Tusking the turf on Mal Paso Mountain.
Submitted by Holt
poem by Robinson Jeffers
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The Little Boy And The Father
the little boy cannot understand
why papa is not buying him toys,
when he grows up
he will ask his papa where did he really come from
was it from the slit of the giant bamboo?
he will not cry
he had knows suffering since then
soon he will doubt what fathers are
whether his papa comes from the womb of a boar
because he had been so cruel
time fills the gaps
assures that the wrongs are forgivable
a man rises from the head of the little boy
all questions are wilted flowers for soon he shall start his own
journey with another woman
to his mind he will never be like that man from the womb of the boar
and he will have his own images, his children and kin
the cycle repeats itself
there will be little boys who will doubt where their papas come from
and they will utter the word boars in their hearts
and papas die and memories crawl like vines looking for water
and the world shall weep and soon shall be keen observing
what silence had been
what screams are
whose faces are scarred
whose limbs survive
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Knock On Any Door
Knock on any door
Look through any window
Baby knock on any door
Knock on any door
Is there any place you want to go
Baby who you lookin for
Yeah, yeah, baby now you know
Its a cold world like they told you so
Knock on any door
Save your tears for some occasion
Keep your heartache to yourself
Knock on any door
Its a simple operation
Just trade your memory for your health
Knock on any door
Look through any window
Walk on
Knock on any door
Look through any window
Walk on
Its insane girl, you cant run away
Its the same world it was yesterday
Knock on any door
Look through any window
Walk on
Knock on any door
Look through any window
Walk on
Now, now, now how do you survive
With a pain so real, in a world so jive
Knock on any door
Look through any window
Peek through any shade
Knock on any door
Look through any window
Walk on
song performed by by Jackson Browne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Containment Protocol Initiated
Military will shoot kill civilians
orders are orders
if that's what they are ordered to do?
Training is training
follow orders through and through
that's what we are trained to do?
Military will shoot kill civilians
if ordered to do so?
We are trained to follow orders?
The penalty for not follower orders
in combat... death by firing squad?
Would you follow orders? Do you?
We are trained to follow orders?
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Noh care how boar hog try fi hide under sheep wool, 'im grunt always betray 'im.
The master orders the man, the man orders the cat, and the cat orders her tail.
When the cuckoo sings, the wild boar loses its old coat, and the hen lays an egg without a false nest. And the ram's horns round out - he looks like a general.
The loss is sound
I hunted a hare and missed a boar.
The miss stands in the mind.
I conquered maids but lost the queen.
The loss rings in the heart.
25.03.2011.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The Muckin' O' Geordie's Byre
At a relic aul' croft upon the hill,
Roon the neuk frae Sprottie's mill,
Tryin' a' his life tae jine the kill
Lived Geordie MacIntyre.
He had a wife as sweir's himsel'
An' a daughter as black's Auld Nick himsel'.
There wis some fun - haud awa' the smell-
At the muckin' o' Geordie's byre.
Chorus:
For the graip was tint, the besom was deen,
The barra widna row its leen,
An'siccan a soss it never was seen
At the muckin' o' Geordie's byre.
For the daughter had to strae and neep
The auld wife started to swipe the greep
When Geordie fell sklite on a rotten neep
At the muckin' o' Geordie's byre.
Ben the greep cam' Geordie's soo
She stood up ahint the coo
The coo kickit oot an' o whit a stew
At the muckin' o' Geordie's byre. (Chorus)
For the aul' wife she was booin' doon -
The soo was kickit on the croon
It shoved her heid in the wifie's goon
Then ben through Geordie's byre.
The daughter cam thro the barn door
An' seein' her mother let oot a roar,
To the midden she ran an' fell ower the boar
At the muckin' of Geordie's byre. (Chorus)
For the boar he lap the midden dyke
An' ower the riggs wi' Geordie's tyke.
They baith ran intil a bumbee's byke
At the muckin' o' Geordie's byre.
The cocks an' hens began to craw
When Biddy astride the soo they saw
The postie's shelty ran awa'
At the muckin' o' Geordie's byre. (Chorus)
O a hunder' years are passed an mair
Whaur Sprottie's wis, the hill is bare;
The croft's awa', sae ye'll see nae mair
At the muckin' o' Geordie's byre.
His folks a' deid an' awa' lang syne
In case his memory we should tyne,
Whistle this tune tae keep ye in min'
At the muckin' o' Geordie's byre. (Chorus)
poem by Robert Burns
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Orders are orders
Orders are after all orders
As there is no room for wonderers
The land may be sacred for her
To claim as ancestral or land of mother
What do the solders know?
They have orders to throw
Any intruders if enters illegally
Just to face the trigger brutally
Soldiers will have to obey commander
As he is authorized to issue an order
He may be soldier first then human
Must keep no corner for man or woman
"Shoot the target" means shoot instantly
The orders may be fast and not spoken gently
It has forbearance of nationalism
Where everything is secondary including humanism
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Compound 7
I seek with a want,
For a one or a five in my life.
To share my interests,
And my adventure that excites...
The igniting of the fire,
I have ascending on my horizon.
A sheep, a rabbit or a boar,
Would fit just right.
A sixteen I am.
A compund 7.
To be with a one or a five,
Would for me be very nice.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Knock On My Door
I'm Gonna Obey All Your Wishes As If They Were Orders
I'm Gonna Dye Your Body In Kisses While We're Growing Older
I'll Be There To Beat Your Fears In All The 365 Days A Year
So This Is What I Say...
Knock On My Door
You Know I'll Be In Town
Come Ask For More Don't Let Me Down
What Is Off What Is On
What Is Left What Is Gone
I'm Gonna Give It All For You Baby
You Can Consider It Done
Knock On My Door
You Know I'll Be In Town
Come Ask For More Don't Let Me Down
What Is Off What Is On
What Is Left What Is Gone
I'm Gonna Give It All For You Baby
You Can Consider It Done
I'm Gonna Live All My Mondays Like The Sunniest Sundays
I'm Gonna Go Through Life Every Moment Thinking Of You Always
And Again We'll Beat Our Fears There's Only 365 Days A Year
So This Is What I Say...
Knock On My Door
You Know I'll Be In Town
Come Ask For More Don't Let Me Down
What Is Off What Is On
What Is Left What Is Gone
I'm Gonna Give It All For You Baby
You Can Consider It Done
Knock On My Door
You Know I'll Be In Town
Come Ask For More Don't Let Me Down
What Is Off What Is On
What Is Left What Is Gone
I'm Gonna Give It All For You Baby
You Can Consider It Done
Knock On My Door
Knock On My Door
Don't Let Me Down
You Know I'll Be In Town
You Know I'll Be In Town
Don't Let Me Down, Down
Don't, Don't, Don't,
Don't, Don't, Don't
You Know I'll Be In Town
You Know I'll Be In Town
You Know I'll Be In Town
song performed by by Shakira
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Angel Crying (mix)
Come follow me
Ive got all systems going nothing standing in my way
I should be far down the road but I'm not
Something's holding me back like a wild boar attack
and I've got you by my side but you're not
[Bridge:]
Do you remember when we thought there was no end
a shooting star around the sky
Do you remember when you were from heaven sent
how far the wind could make me fly
[Chorus:]
Angels crying, when you're far away from me
Always trying, I will make you see
Angels crying, (the angels cry), when you're far away from me
No denying, (theres no deny), we were meant to be
I tumbled from the sky where I was soaring so high
never thought that I could fall back to the ground
Somewhere along the ride I found that we can't stop the tide
it's time for me to buy another round
[Bridge]
[Chorus]
Angels are crying
Angels are crying
Angels are crying
Yeah
Ive got all systems going nothing standing in my way
I should be far down the road but I'm not
Something's holding me back like a wild boar attack
and I've got you by my side but you're not
[Chorus2:]
Angels crying, (the angels cry), when you're far away from me
Always trying, (I always try), I will make you see
Angels crying, (the angels cry), when you're far away from me
No denying, (theres no deny), we were meant to be
[Chorus2]
song performed by by E-type
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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How Mild Fall Is
How mild the fall is?
I followed a track between tall, pale green cactuses, in this harsh landscape
where even the smallest plant has thorns, where bark and leaves, of even
regular trees, like carob and olive, are tough and will not softens to human
touch. Yet this is a landscape that once was tilled and now abandoned, does
this landscape’s common soul feels rancorous of being left to fend for itself?
I found a ruin. More than a ruin, a pile of stones only its outline told me that
once this had been a home where children had been born, lived and died
for generations, till someone said: enough! And left for pastures green, (most
likely USA or Canada,) poverty is only romantic in movies. Half of November
gone, I’m walking about in shirt sleeves the ground is rock hard and dusty,
the local paper tells us that 14 years ago the weather was mild too till January,
then it snowed and it was cold till May. Feel I’m being watched in the bushes
I see a boar watching me it is a wily old boar it sees I carry no gun, yet keeps
its distance; and high above me circles eagles; the landscape is teaming with
rabbits which used to be food for the people, who lived in the ruin (when
they could snare one) now business men, who have paid for a license to kill,
come here to unwind. To kill seems to satisfy a base desire in mankind; yet, it
is better a rabbit is scarified, then to see a dead Afghan child with eyes that
reflect the grey mountains, poppy fields and the blue unfeeling sky.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Who Gave The Order
I'm Buju Banton with the preacher's son
Who gave the orders
For them to go, alright
Who gave the orders
Martin was shut down, ah, alright
Who gave the orders
To drop the bomb, we wanna know
Who gave the orders
No refugees across the borders, yeah
Questions asked with no response, ey, Wyclef
Who's gonna answer
Where did all these guns come from, tell me, ey
Who's gonna answer
Feeding lies to our daughters and sons
But they will have to answer
Then what you gonna do when the Rastaman comes
Where you gonna run for cover
Looking through the window of my ire eyes
On this city filled with lies
Observing the people working so hard
Doing whatever it takes to get by
Then I look at myself and realize
That I was put here for a reason
Lord knows I've done my best and I've tried
We gon' keep trying
Who gave the orders
For them to go, Lord no
Who gave the orders
Martin was gunned down, oh
Who gave the orders
To drop the bomb, my God
Who gave the orders
No refugees across the borders, who
Questions asked with no response, ey, Wyclef
Who's gonna answer
Where did all these guns come from, tell me
Who's gonna answer
Feeding lies to our daughters and sons
They will have to answer
Then what they gonna do when the Rastaman comes
Where you gonna run for cover
Well what you gonna do, what you gonna do, what are you gonna do
Incarcerate a million and only free few
What was done to others, it shall be done to you
Open up your eyes and you will see the full view
Work all day, and you can't get raise in pay
Civilly bodies being taken away
I wonder what the voice of the people have to say
Stand up and defend your rights today
Who gave the orders, who gave the orders
For them to go
Who gave the orders
Martin was gunned down, Martin was gunned down, oh, Martin was gunned down
Who gave the orders, who gave the orders
To drop the bomb
Who gave the orders, who gave the orders
No refugees across the borders, no, no, no, no
Questions asked with no response, ey, Wyclef
Who's gonna answer
Where did all these guns come from, Wyclef, ah
Who's gonna answer
Telling lies to our daughters and sons
They will have to answer
Then what they gonna do when the righteous man comes
Where you gonna run for cover
song performed by by Wyclef Jean
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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