Annunciation - A Song for Cesar Vallejo & Hart Crane
Arriving late to love
the broken tower
mourns its ringing ruin.
Long drought of air
once stilled the clapper.
But one breath, Trembler,
cracks metal.
Muteness falls away.
Frightened doves scatter.
Annunciation of rafters:
Come.
Remember gaiety,
how to sway.
Who pulls the rope
are many.
Silver coin,
fly up from
empty fountain,
renew into wishful
hand a saint's pocket
prayer returning.
Poor in heart scatter.
Bread swells upon
leaning monuments.
Flowers
for the dead
wildly grow
pinching lovers
who kiss
over
open
graves.
Black Rooster,
searching, scratches
all dawns.
poem by Warren Falcon
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Prayer
In my perfect world
Theres no need to right the wronged
Laid down my burden
I know I did not carry the weight
Not sure to who responsibility belonged
I turned a blind eye
While waiting for the hand of fate to still the waters
Heal all the broken hearts
And hope it could be done without a sacrifice
And maybe I just wouldnt pay the price
Ive fought this long enough
Now I send the prayer to heaven for the chance to be
A better man than the man I see
I send the prayer to heaven, lay your hands on me
I aint a saint but to this I swear I send the prayer
And now I feel all I can do is not enough
My rome is burning and Im standing at the deep abyss
But every passion started with an act of love
And every act of love, started with a single kiss
Father, father your gift was my world of light
And Ive betrayed you with a single judas kiss
Ive been my own executioner
But its not just me anymore
Now I send the prayer to heaven for the chance to be
A better man than the man I see
I send the prayer to heaven, lay your hands on me
I aint a saint but to this I swear
Burn my wasted pride
Open your heart to this
Theres a voice thats crying somewhere
Deep inside my soul for shelter
Now I send the prayer to heaven for the chance to be
A better man than the man I see
I send the prayer to heaven, lay your hands on me
I aint a saint but to this I swear
Now I send the prayer to heaven for the chance to be
A better man than the man I see
I send the prayer to heaven, lay your hands on me
I aint a saint but to this I swear I send the prayer...
Now I send a prayer to heaven...
song performed by by Rick Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Favorite Depression
Every time I think of you
There follows a great succession
First my heart leaps for joy
Then follows a great depression
When I first think of you
My heart goes pitter patter
And when I try to talk
My words are all a scatter
Your hair flows before my eyes
Like waves of the beautiful sea
But that all fades when I remember
That you don't care for me
My heart drops deep within
And my spirit falls so fast
A tear dropp falls from my eye
Depression comes at last
I feel so dark and sad
I feel I need a retreat
But when I see you again
The cycle doth repeat
You are my favorite depression
Better than the rest
If you ever come to me
T'will be like an eagle returning to it's nest
You are my favorite sadness
The one that eats away my heart
But I know you think of me
As some annoying stinky fart
But you are my favorite depression
The best of them all
And I run to you like a puppy
Returning to it's mother's call.
poem by Thirteen Tears
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The Trumpet
Rise up, rise up,
And, as the trumpet blowing
Chases the dreams of men,
As the dawn glowing
The stars that left unlit
The land and water,
Rise up and scatter
The dew that covers
The print of last night's lovers -
Scatter it, scatter it!
While you are listening
To the clear horn,
Forget, men, everything
On this earth newborn,
Except that it is lovelier
Than any mysteries.
Open your eyes to the air
That has washed the eyes of the stars
Through all the dewy night:
Up with the light,
To the old wars;
Arise, arise!
poem by Edward Thomas
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Wishful Heart
Wishful Heart
Wishful Heart
How much pain can you endure?
Hurt you til there's nothing left.. Love Again?
Are you sure?
All the times you stay hopeful to it all
You know very well in the end you always fall
Wishful Heart
Wishful Heart
Are you a fool?
Love the one who will never love you
Broke into a million pieces
some stolen along the way
you care too much
Though they abuse
Still you stay; Pretend covers your bruises
Wishful Heart
Wishful Heart
Where do I begin?
Want to mend you
But you wont give in
afraid of what love just may do
you close your eyes
& pray to god
that this is true.
Wishful Heart
Wishful Heart
Oh I love you so
Not enough to heal your scars
but enough to sew your wounds
I promise, one day you'll have a new start.
Sweet Dreams... Wishful Heart Wishful Heart
poem by LeighAnna Williams
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My Lovers Prayer
My lovers prayer
In the history of
A life takes a heart
When the power of love comes together
There is nothing can tear us apart
And the touch of your hand I can feel
That what we got is stronger than steel
Thats when you hear
My lovers prayer
Its my own silent message to you
Takes me there, my lovers prayer
And my soul is divided in two
With my love on the line
I send it all over the world
Out on the air
cause I cant let go
And my heart has a mind of its own
Its my lovers prayer
Its the mystery of
A place blessed by us
And the moment of truth is forever
In the face of incredible odds
And the look in your eyes tells me why
Let our words burn a sign in the sky
My lovers prayer
Its as easy as talking to you
All my life, having you there
In my own private vision come true
Youre heaven on earth
Youre the fire and all that Im worth
And I can be strong
You hold the key
Dont say its over
Dont say its over for me
My lovers prayer
Its as easy as talking to you
All my life, having you there
In my own private vision come true
In my search for your love
I send it all over the world
Its all I can bare
And the nights get long
But my heart holds on
Its no empty words
Its my own silent message to you
Takes me there, my lovers prayer
And my soul is divided in two
cause I cant let go
And my heart has a mind of its own
Its my lovers prayer
song performed by by Bee Gees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pocket fairytales....a trilogy
A Pocket Fairytale
He sat in a white van
with no working handbrake,
similar to his temper, with no stopper.
He'd no tax and no money.
What he'd salvaged from life
was an old mattress,
a few old clothes, a fancy chair
and a pot plant.
The door to her house
was bolted, several times
just like the seven chances she'd given him
and the neighbours curtains were twitching.
There was oil leaking from the engine
just like his bleeding heart
and the rear light didn't work
similar to his brain.
His belly grumbled,
he was needy,
and his mouth was dry with fright
although his shoes were polished.
He dug into his back pocket
and found a crumpled piece
of paper with a note
inscribed.
"Some money's in
your other pocket.
I thought you might need some.
Be safe." ……..and he wept.
So you see, sometimes fairytales
do come true and this
is a pocket fairytale
Missed pocket.
David pulled brightly coloured silk from his pocket,
more and more he pulled
blues and yellows and pinks and greens.
David pulled doves from his pocket,
beautiful white feathered doves
and they flew, high.
He did rope tricks, tricks with mirrors,
he conjured flowers
and rabbits from hats.
David pulled me from his pocket.
I danced like a nymph in his hand
I leapt for joy!
Then David slipped,
his wand sparked out
I fell, missing his pocket …………and disappeared.
Pocket watch.
I'm watching a man in the station waiting room,
he has a pocket watch and every now and then he checks it.
It looks as though it's made of bright silver and it shines
like something from the past, mysterious and old.
He has a wonderful moustache, curled at the edges
and seems to be late for something.
He notices me staring at him and as I turn away he
changes into a white rabbit and catches the next train.
"Wake up dear, wake up" mother nudges me.
"We get off at the next stop". I yawn and try to wake up.
poem by Ruth Walters
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At the Florist.
A Man enters a flower shopÂ
And chooses some flowersÂ
The Florist wraps the flowersÂ
The Man puts his hand in his pocketÂ
Searching for moneyÂ
Money to pay for the FlowersÂ
But at the same timeÂ
SuddenlyÂ
He puts his hand on his Heart andÂ
FallsÂ
At the same time as He fallsÂ
The money falls to the floorÂ
And then the flowers fallÂ
At the same time as the manÂ
At the same time as the moneyÂ
And the Florist stands stillÂ
With the falling moneyÂ
With the damaged flowersÂ
With the Dying ManÂ
Obviously all this is very sadÂ
And she must do somethingÂ
The FloristÂ
But She dosen't know what to doÂ
Dosen't know where to startÂ
There are so many things to doÂ
With this Man who's DyingÂ
These damaged FlowersÂ
And this MoneyÂ
This Money rollingÂ
Which dosen't stop rolling.Â
Jacques Prévert- Translation
poem by David Holbrook
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Wild Geese
Look at the golden dawn
See the sunset
On the silver thorn
Just remember
It was all for you and me
High on the ragged hill
He was dying
And hes dying still
Oh my lord
You were born to set men free
And the mission bells are ringing
As the prisoner finds release
And the love we knew is returning
Like wild geese
And the signal fires are burning
For the everlasting peace
And the love we knew is returning
Like wild geese
Only the closest heart
Could believe that loves
A dying art
After all the
Hungry mouths he fed
Eyes on the gentle one
Looked for the kindness
But they gave him none
Not a sip of wine
Or a crust of bread
song performed by by Cliff Richard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To one who has been long in city pent
To one who has been long in city pent,
'Tis very sweet to look into the fair
And open face of heaven,--to breathe a prayer
Full in the smile of the blue firmament.
Who is more happy, when, with heart's content,
Fatigued he sinks into some pleasant lair
Of wavy grass, and reads a debonair
And gentle tale of love and languishment?
Returning home at evening, with an ear
Catching the notes of Philomel,--an eye
Watching the sailing cloudlet's bright career,
He mourns that day so soon has glided by:
E'en like the passage of an angel's tear
That falls through the clear ether silently.
poem by John Keats
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Sonnet X. To One Who Has Been Long In City Pent
To one who has been long in city pent,
'Tis very sweet to look into the fair
And open face of heaven -- to breathe a prayer
Full in the smile of the blue firmament.
Who is more happy, when, with heart's content,
Fatigued he sinks into some pleasant lair
Of wavy grass, and reads a debonair
And gentle tale of love and languishment?
Returning home at evening, with an ear
Catching the notes of Philomel,-- an eye
Watching the sailing cloudlet's bright career,
He mourns that day so soon has glided by:
E'en like the passage of an angel's tear
That falls through the clear ether silently.
poem by John Keats
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You Must Please Remember
A small boy, big ideas
You must please remember
A long road, with no turn-off
Oh, you must remember
Caught in your headlights
Like a frightened animal
You must remember
Someone cries twice nightly
Of course, I do remember
Someone cries and you think quite rightly so
But you refuse to remember
Caught in your headlights
Like a frightened animal
Oh, you must remember
Oh ...
Remember, remember
Oh ...
Remember, remember
Low-lights and long nights
I try hard to not remember
And you - too beautiful
I cant look
Ive done so very many stupid things
Its too late (remember)
Oh ...
Oh ...
Remember, remember
Oh ...
Remember, remember
Oh ...
Oh, remember
Oh ...
Remember, oh ...
Oh ...
Oh, remember
Oh ...
Remember, oh
Oh ...
Oh, remember, oh
Oh ...
Remember, oh
Oh ...
Oh, remember, oh
Oh ...
Remember, oh
song performed by by Morrissey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Reunited
Let us begin, dear love, where we left off;
Tie up the broken threads of that old dream;
And go on happy as before; and seem
Lovers again, though all the world may scoff.
Let us forget the graves, which lie between
Our parting and our meeting, and the tears
That rusted out the goldwork of the years;
The frosts that fell upon our gardens green.
Let us forget the cold malicious Fate
Who made our loving hearts her idle toys,
And once more revel in the old sweet joys
Of happy love. Nay, it is not too late!
Forget the deep-ploughed furrows in my brow;
Forget the silver gleaming in my hair;
Look only in my eyes! Oh! darling, there
The old love shone no warmer then than now.
Down in the tender depths of thy dear eyes,
I find the lost sweet memory of my youth,
Bright with the holy radiance of thy truth,
And hallowed with the blue of summer skies.
Tie up the broken threads, and let us go,
Like reunited lovers, hand in hand,
Back, and yet onward, to the sunny land
Of our To Be, which was our Long Ago.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Love at Sea
WE ARE in love’s land to-day;
Where shall we go?
Love, shall we start or stay,
Or sail or row?
There’s many a wind and way,
And never a May but May;
We are in love’s hand to-day;
Where shall we go?
Our landwind is the breath
Of sorrows kissed to death
And joys that were;
Our ballast is a rose;
Our way lies where God knows
And love knows where.
We are in love’s hand to-day—
Our seamen are fledged Loves,
Our masts are bills of doves,
Our decks fine gold;
Our ropes are dead maids’ hair,
Our stores are love-shafts fair
And manifold.
We are in love’s land to-day—
Where shall we land you, sweet?
On fields of strange men’s feet,
Or fields near home?
Or where the fire-flowers blow,
Or where the flowers of snow
Or flowers of foam?
We are in love’s hand to-day—
Land me, she says, where love
Shows but one shaft, one dove,
One heart, one hand.
—A shore like that, my dear,
Lies where no man will steer,
No maiden land.
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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Tell Me, (who Wrote These Lines, Please, Did You?)
Because it all just breaks apart, and the pieces scatter and
rearrange without much fanfare or notice.
Because you can't and don't remember the step that kicked up
dust and left this planet—you'd give up even more now.
Because the body itself—the heart's
not dead but deeper, wrapped up in curtains, a different color,
among the railings and the pigeons, the rooftops and
walls—
for all you know it's a question of bread
or beer.
Because even love
returns. The city's all brightness
and shadow, deckle-edged, bluer than air—there's no help
anywhere—you no longer know how to listen.
And love says, love—midnight to midnight,
already ablaze. And the boulevard—wide-open. And the well-
stocked crowdless market, and a lone taxi blears.
Even happiness—the way anger's come back to roost again.
And joy, though joy's not in the ear or the eye. On this
walk.
The gulls hover offshore and the islands are speckled with fire.
Even love, even because.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Love's Remains
Cobble stones
are his tears,
his monuments;
I hear
ragged air
flapping
over his garments
as he falls-
her face before him.
She gave him water;
clothed him.
His gnarled heart
sang for her,
his flight-
swan death down-
because of her;
the church bells rung for her
by him
in his tall tower pedestal.
How much love is it
in downward death
to have love's name
on your breath?
How much love it is
for love's one glance
be enough
your life to forfeit?
Quasimodo
breathed
his love
in earthward
flight;
before crash
his heart burst
surely
as he called her name-
Esmeralda,
Esmeralda;
he then felt her kiss
once more
before shattering land.
All sufficed
for what then
came:
Cobblestone Tears:
Love's Remains.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Where's The Silver?
Colors, colors everywhere
Colors all around
Reds and purples and blues are there
But silver can't be found
I look around, and now I've found some yellows and some greens
I look until my eyes are sore, but silver can't be seen
I look unto the vibrant clouds, but there's no silver lining
Where is all the silver that the miners should be mining?
There are no silver bells a'ringing
The silver songbirds are not singing
The orange sun hangs in the air, but I can't find silver anywhere
I look for hours, look for days, look for silver anyplace
But there always seems to be another color in it's place
I've given up this useless search
There is no silver left to find
I dropp my head and start to cry
When out of my pocket falls a silver dime
poem by Tyler Mason
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Forgot Paris
Twenty five years since I walked along the Seine
It was April then and now
Spring chills and sunny spots
Lovers hand in hand search for romance
Tourists clambering with cameras and maps
Avoiding paintings on sidewalks and tourist traps
We had bought a cheap etching then
A bicycle on a stand
Leaning besides the river
Meandering through the Parisian land.
For years I had it hung on a wall
Until one day, broken by a swinging door
I had a Kodak camera in my pocket
And in a dusty album stored somewhere
A faded photograph
Of her lying on the river wall
In black leather pants and enigmatic smile
Resting between walking each mile
Paris was for lovers wasn’t it?
So we argued and then made love
On a creaky bed
With bread and cheese and cheap wine
In a forgotten hotel near Montmartre
The magic would last like Monet’s art
Through our bodies pulsed the blood of youth
Stout heart and skin so smooth
Before us was promise and potential
But time has flowed so fast
Lost in the wear of work and accounts paid
Her ashes now, washed away and memories fade.
April 2010.
The Well That Becomes Dry
your rope and pail
shall find no use now
for the well that used to give you water
has gone dry
utter a word to it
and what you hear is nothing but an echo
dropp a coin
there will be no ripples anymore
a fish lives there
now dead buried on the cracks of the soil
inside is the emptiness
that it will keep till the next rain
the rope shall accumulate
dust
the pail shall have its own
rust.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Coin Of Fate
In my hand is my coin of fate
It tells me at who I am to project my hate
With just a flip of the coin we shall see
What fate has determined what is your destiny
On one side is written of forgiviness and prayer
The other side is covered in scratches and shown little care
If me catching the side with prayer is your fate
Then you will be left alone and safe from my hate
But if the side displayed is the latter
Then save your breathe for your pleas will not matter
You will meet the side of me that is deaf to your cries
And know that anyone who meet this twisted being inside me dies
So, now let us play my little game
Let us see what fate has in store
*Flips the coin*
Well, it seems that I will stay tame
What say we play once more
poem by Vasto Grom
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Always Remember Me
When the trees have gone
and the streams have sang heir last song
Remember me
As the rain falls through the neverending night
and the wolf calls for the gift of dawn
Remember me
When the flowers bloom their heads lift high
and the moon rises like a phantom in the sky
Remember me
When the stars shine bright
and sadness strikes you with all its might
Remember me
When all hope has vanished
and joy has been banished
Remember me
As life takes its last breath
and death plagues the world
Remember me
As love is spirited away
and anger and sadness are to blame
Remember me
When memories are the only path left to walk
and the past becomes the present
Remember me
When the cry of freedom is silenced
and the winds laughter rings no more
Remember me
As lovers meet for the last time
and friends must say goodbye forever
Remember me
As the seas groan with the memories of war
and the willows whisper on the shores of sorrow
Remember me
When the earth is bowed in despair
and dreams lie broken in your heart
Remember me
When eternity is only one day more
and all that was is no more
Always remember
For I'll be with you in your memories
Always watching over you
poem by Holly Morgan
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