In The New Garden In All The Parts
IN the new garden, in all the parts,
In cities now, modern, I wander,
Though the second or third result, or still further, primitive yet,
Days, places, indifferent--though various, the same,
Time, Paradise, the Mannahatta, the prairies, finding me unchanged,
Death indifferent--Is it that I lived long since? Was I buried very
long ago?
For all that, I may now be watching you here, this moment;
For the future, with determined will, I seek--the woman of the
future,
You, born years, centuries after me, I seek.
poem by Walt Whitman
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Modern Girl
Once a beautiful miss america married mr. right
Had a little baby girl, born on a stormy night
But that was once upon a time, now its a brand new world
Gimme the future, gimme the future, gimme the future with a modern girl
Gimme the future, gimme the future, gimme the future with a modern girl
Somewhere just between the past and somethin dawnin new
Theres a break in the chain, theres a skip in the clock
Girl thats where Im gonna find you
Between the boy I was before and what Im gonna be
Theres a clash on the border, a flame in the sky
Girl thats where youre gonna find me
Cant you hear the planet groanin like a broken down machine
Rusted with the guilty tears of fallen kings and queens
But you and I stand innocent, baby its a brand new world
Gimme the future, gimme the future, gimme the future with a modern girl
Gimme the future, gimme the future, gimme the future with a modern girl
(gimme the future, gimme the future, gimme the future with a modern girl)
Bridge:
Were the son and the daughter on a new freeway
(gimme the future, gimme the future)
Laughin while the road maps blow away
(gimme the future with a modern girl)
Were the son and the daughter and we aint afraid
(gimme the future, gimme the future)
Wont be makin the mistakes our fathers made
(gimme the future with a modern girl)
(gimme the future, gimme the future) oh, gimme the future with a modern girl
(gimme the future, gimme the future) oh, gimme the future with a modern girl
Once a beautiful miss america married mr. right
Had a little baby boy, born on a stormy night
But that was once upon a time, now its a brand new world
Gimme the future, gimme the future - gimme the future with a modern girl...
(repeats out)
(bridge)
song performed by by Meat Loaf
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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For Mel (villanelle)
The one who should have lived has gone so fast.
The old ones, in their dotage, linger on –
they, with no future, live only in the past.
And we who can but sit, dumb and aghast,
scarcely believe that while the sun still shone
the one who should have lived has gone so fast.
Six decades older, surviving to their last
few days or years, together but alone,
they, with no future, live only in the past.
At least she kept on living to the last,
but should have had a future. She has none.
The one who should have lived has gone so fast,
and they, for whom so many years have passed,
are unaware that one they loved is gone.
They, with no future, live only in the past,
mark time until the final trumpet blast,
and never know the respite they have won.
The one who should have lived has gone so fast.
They, with no future, live only in the past.
poem by Paul Hansford
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By the time a person has achieved years adequate for choosing a direction, the die is cast and the moment has long since passed which determined the future.
quote by Zelda Fitzgerald
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pastime Paradise
Theyve been spending most their lives
Living in a pastime paradise
Theyve been spending most their lives
Living in a pastime paradise
Theyve been wasting most their time
Glorifying days long gone behind
Theyve been wasting most their days
In remembrance of ignorance oldest praise
Tell me who of them will come to be
How many of them are you and me
Dissipation
Race relations
Consolation
Segregation
Dispensation
Isolation
Exploitation
Mutilation
Mutations
Miscreation
Confirmation...to the evils of the world
Theyve been spending most their lives
Living in a future paradise
Theyve been spending most their lives
Living in a future paradise
Theyve been looking in their minds
For the day that sorrows gone from time
They keep telling of the day
When the savior of love will come to stay
Tell me who of them will come to be
How many of them are you and me
Proclamation
Of race relations
Consolation
Integretion
Verification
Of revelations
Acclamation
World salvation
Vibrations
Stimulation
Confirmation...to the peace of the world
Theyve been spending most their lives
Living in a pastime paradise
Theyve been spending most their lives
Living in a pastime paradise
Theyve been spending most their lives
Living in a future paradise
Theyve been spending most their lives
Living in a future paradise
Weve been spending too much of our lives
Living in a pastime paradise
Lets start living our lives
Living for the future paradise
Praise to our lives
Living for the future paradise
Shame to anyones lives
Living in the pastime paradise
song performed by by Stevie Wonder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In order to understand life it is not only necessary not to be indifferent to men, but not to be indifferent to flocks, to trees. One should be indifferent to nothing.
quote by Remy de Gourmont
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Chosen To Change Prophecy Potentials
he may be psychic
he may foretell the future...
but the only future he writes
is with a quill and ink...
I may be psychic.
I may foretell the future.
But the only future I write.
Is with a ballpoint pen.
they may be psychic
they may foretell the future...
but their future write
is with a computer tablet...
this future references
future net human societies
therefore it is not applicable
to two lives we ourselves
if born in different places
if born in different times...
if born in different decades
if born in different centuries...
or is it soul purpose applicable
though on a set parallel scale
of timed minimal importance
dominance of earlier soul purpose
visions of artistic output
claim pressing precedence...
intrinsically eye inscribes
mind set sight shock waves...
a prophet
is born
to fulfill
a specific
life
a preordained...
energy
flesh incarnate...
message
is radiated
into beautification
infusing sacred
eternal
life strife...
itself
resolute...
in cycle
of lives
dances
prophecies
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Leah
They defied the gods and earned their wrath.
Waters washed over their land
sinking it miles beneath the sea
to languish for centuries in myth and mystery.
Then emerged a mysterious woman
I found floundering near the shore.
She said her name was Leah
and claimed she was from a land
that sunk centuries ago
by the gods deep beneath the sea.
As the days progressed from the time,
I found her
this is the story she related to me.
My city is one of many
and my people are very old.
We learnt a long time ago
the key to immortality.
Ours is but a simple life
farming fish and seaweed
for our daily feed.
Over the centuries we learnt the secrets
all here seek to learn,
how to breath underwater
and above on this land.
It was while I was exploring
you found me near the shore.
We go out quite often
just to explore this world
to see if you have learnt
from the mistakes we made
when we defied the gods.
Sadly, from what we have seen
you make more than we,
but I fear that unlike us
you will never sink beneath the sea.
Instead, your cities will crumble
and you will be buried
beneath your city’s waste
when the buildings crumble to the ground
She then rose up and moved
away from my house back to the sea,
as I called out her name Leah
a wind came up from nowhere
carrying her name away from me.
Leah vanished back into the sea
leaving me with only mystery.
Was she from the fabled Atlantis?
Was she as old as she had implied.
What about the prediction for us,
did I dream it all
or was it an alternate reality?
These questions I cannot answer,
but each night I wander
alone along the beach
and shout her name Leah
only to have the wind
carry it away from me
to somewhere far out to sea.
7 September 2011
poem by David Harris
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Search
I have pursued you
For long years
Finding and losing you anew
Through joy and tears.
Sometimes like a fragrance
That’s lost in a moment
Or a face at a distance
Vague and crescent.
Though constant companion
You never stay on
Before I know you, you are gone
Leaving me alone.
Still for years I walk miles
Chasing the shadow of your smiles
Finding and losing you
Only to seek you anew.
poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay
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Mind That Counts
Is the earth still on the anchor of nature?
Does what makes a whole still makes parts?
thus says the sluggard
accomplishing no future dipicting success.
Time sprinting like a gazzle
In the eyes of that glutt...
just a risk of a moment
costing Him years.
Acheing to the call of time...
dancing to the tune of just...
striving towards the glare of freedom
raring to go for gold.
Your future is a member of the allegibly accursed criminal of time...
Your future is dipicted by the perciverance of making it in life...
so your acclimitisation towards success vindicates your future...
poem by Isaac Taiwo Afuye
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Spells
Spells trying to close my eyes
Witch doctors are dictators
Trying to destroy the bright future
Which Yahweh has made for me
Shall I let them succeed?
I should do well not to
I may seek to swell my future prospects
But the Spirit is still in charge
Of each and everything
I will succeed
When the time of God comes
Till then I shall pray
And seek well the face of God.
poem by Samuel Nze
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Regardless Of How High A Horse
I have lived long enough to learn,
A repeated ride on a merry-go-round...
On fixed and painted horses that go up and down,
Has nothing to do with a scenery unchanged.
No matter how I insist with an addiction,
To grab hold of a brass ring that teases.
As if the prize for accomplishing this monotonous ride,
Will have an effect on the environment I left.
Showing to reveal my sense of pride.
To then return with excitement and have this reflect,
On others unimpressed...
By an accomplishment I have achievement to receive.
And prepared to share with 'whomever' is there.
I have lived long enough to learn,
That my experiences that I have earned...
Is not going to make a difference to those indifferent.
Regardless of how high a horse I had sat on!
Whether it went up or down OR jumped through hoops,
To qualify me a winner.
Or the number of times I tried to succeed.
And did.
Because I believed I could.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Features of the Future
I'm closer to the future
Than I was yesterday.
The highway of the future
Is in each break of day.
I frame my future
By the decisions I make.
I encounter the future
If diligent steps I take.
Plans for the future
I made in the past.
Today I face the future
Yet it won't last.
Depending on the future
Is so inefficient.
Because the so-called future
Is vague and transcient!
'you'll live well in the future
if the present is well lived! ! '
poem by Robert Reuben
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The One Of The Future
The man of the future the babe of today
That's how it is and it has always been this way
When one generation is ageing one is in their prime
And the hands keep on turning of old father time
The mother of the future is crawling on the floor
To the human population numbers she will add more
Twenty years may seem a long time but time ticks on fast
And the time will come when she too will be seen as one of the past
'Tis true that the future belongs to the young
The praises of those in their twenties are so often sung
The one of the future is beginning to talk
And crawling on the floor before learning how to walk
The younger years seem for to tick quickly by
And on looking back time it does seem for to fly.
poem by Francis Duggan
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3..... the past not to be Framed In Shadows
the dark shadows of the past
bracket the the here and now of the present
and create a blinding mirage into a hazy future
our choice to stand so hopeless,
.......framed in the present
thus, locked into an unwanted future.....?
let us rather allow our light to shine so bright here in the now
in this we overcome the shadows of the past
and let the radiance of the present then mirror a future
possible, at long last, reflective introspection discovering deep inside
so, as shadows retreat fragments of the essence of Being surface
finding remnants of the essence of Being affirmned, still the same
finding values and priorities migrated to new dimensions in space and time
through this then
the fabric and texture of Being...., now wiser, .....more resilient
the resonance of mind harmonious quiter at peace
understanding and having overcome the shadows,
accepting the mirrored future, bearable-, and joy to be alone
soul no longer running the prairies with scavenging wolves, hungry for love
now present a man hand in hand with love.... belonging,
......no longer longing, ........the cracks, ok emitting light
and as waves of sorrow come at times, as it will, joy smooths the crests
poem by Johan Fourie
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[Future World]
For years I have spent.
Chasing time.
Dwelling on mistakes
That I have made,
Dreaming about a tomorrow
within my past.
Wondering how life,
got the best parts of me.
But there you were…
My future girl.
Standing there…
In your future world.
A dimensional split,
This crack opens my eyes
So to a lotus…
Engaging in self worth.
Such to a rose,
I am your thorn.
The extensional glue….
The protection of you….
There you stood,
Alone you were.
A future Girl,
In a future world…
I run for you…
In which we fade.
I take this dive.
In the love we’ve made.
I take the past.
Throw time away.
Never going back…
Never looking back…
Future World,
There we were.
Future Boy….
And…
Future Girl….
~Empath~
poem by Empath In flames
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In the Garden, With My Father
It is spring.
As in my garden, I stand.
In the garden -
My father is there;
... though long since gone...
He IS there.
I tend to the weeds,
The veggies and flowers...
He is there.
I never understood him
(as I should have, could have) ...
Until now,
Here, in the garden.
Where I, like he, work the soil.
I've come just recently
(these last few years)
To enjoy and love my garden so.
- I am not as surprised afterall, as I would have thought,
To find him here.
Here, in the garden.
He loved his garden very much.......
I - at that early age of restless youth - had no use
For such slow moving things.
But now, I see, and myself move, at a much slower pace.
Therefore, it is him I am here and now able to see,
In the garden.
Watching it all grow, so peacefully.
It is somewhat sad, that now,
When I can no longer tell him,
I understand.
For I have come to find... I love the garden too,
Just as much as he;
And we both always will.
My father - standing in the garden -
I now know.
After all these long years.
And I've missed him so;
But, how wonderful to find,
He IS here...
In the garden, our garden,
Always, with me.
poem by Smoky Hoss
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Seven Months
How can I forget you
Disregard how I feel
Silently listen
To the words I cant see
For as long as I have tried
And as low as I can be
I will never resign myself
From the trial I seek
Why should I forgive you
After all that Ive seen
Quietly whisper
When my heart wants to scream
For as long as I have tried
And as low as I can be
I will never resign myself
From the trial I seek
Theres no time to rest
Or to reconsider
For this cruel unsaid, wont concede
For as long as I have tried
And as low as I can be
I will never resign myself
From the trial I seek
song performed by by Portishead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Going
Why did you give no hint that night
That quickly after the morrow's dawn,
And calmly, as if indifferent quite,
You would close your term here, up and be gone
Where I could not follow
With wing of swallow
To gain one glimpse of you ever anon!
Never to bid good-bye
Or lip me the softest call,
Or utter a wish for a word, while I
Saw morning harden upon the wall,
Unmoved, unknowing
That your great going
Had place that moment, and altered all.
Why do you make me leave the house
And think for a breath it is you I see
At the end of the alley of bending boughs
Where so often at dusk you used to be;
Till in darkening dankness
The yawning blankness
Of the perspective sickens me!
You were she who abode
By those red-veined rocks far West,
You were the swan-necked one who rode
Along the beetling Beeny Crest,
And, reining nigh me,
Would muse and eye me,
While Life unrolled us its very best.
Why, then, latterly did we not speak,
Did we not think of those days long dead,
And ere your vanishing strive to seek
That time's renewal? We might have said,
"In this bright spring weather
We'll visit together
Those places that once we visited."
Well, well! All's past amend,
Unchangeable. It must go.
I seem but a dead man held on end
To sink down soon. . . . O you could not know
That such swift fleeing
No soul foreseeing--
Not even I--would undo me so!
poem by Thomas Hardy
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Time
Who knows about the future? Who knows what we'll find?
What good and bad things are in store by chance or design?
What can be done today to alter the future's course?
If truth be known you alone rule effects of its force.
Today at work or play only the present exists.
A wise world has no room for a past-present-future tryst.
Each future hour, joyful or dour, will never arrive.
The future will be the future as long as you're alive
The past is gone forever never to steal today's times,
Unless could-have-been memories commit awful crimes.
So love and live each instant of each and every day.
You have so little time as each moment passes away.
poem by Gregory Huyette
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Vampires: There's No Such Thing.
.
Count Dracula. A mere upstart.
He is not what he claims to be
A peasant born he plays the part.
Although he lacks the pedigree.
His pursuit of publicity
reveals his base born origin.
The vampire aristocracy
keep careful records of their kin.
He has no proof to offer you.
Although he claims to be a Count.
He cannot prove his claim is true.
A base born lout of no account.
The vampire aristocracy
have sworn to destroy Dracula.
He broke the code of secrecy.
In doing so he went too far.
I can’t reveal how it was done.
Though Dracula will boast no more
A pile of dust lies in the sun.
Which means there’s one less predator.
Though he’s long gone his legend lives.
He‘s seen as a celebrity.
It seems that history forgives
his claim to aristocracy.
Though we do not, we won’t forget.
The damage he did to our cause.
We had the right to be upset
and to defend ourselves of course.
We prefer to live in secrecy
As we have always tried to do.
We do not seek publicity
it would be rather foolish to.
As long as modern man believes
that vampires simply don’t exist.
We are quite happy that they self deceive
Long may their foolishness persist.
Big cities are our hunting ground
nobody misses waifs and strays.
Although their bodies may be found.
Nobody seems to care these days.
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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