The scene shall never fit the deed. Grotesquely wonders come to pass. The fool shall mount an Arab steed And Jesus ride upon an ass.
quote by Joyce Kilmer
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Delicatessen
Why is that wanton gossip Fame
So dumb about this man's affairs?
Why do we titter at his name
Who come to buy his curious wares?
Here is a shop of wonderment.
From every land has come a prize;
Rich spices from the Orient,
And fruit that knew Italian skies,
And figs that ripened by the sea
In Smyrna, nuts from hot Brazil,
Strange pungent meats from Germany,
And currants from a Grecian hill.
He is the lord of goodly things
That make the poor man's table gay,
Yet of his worth no minstrel sings
And on his tomb there is no bay.
Perhaps he lives and dies unpraised,
This trafficker in humble sweets,
Because his little shops are raised
By thousands in the city streets.
Yet stars in greater numbers shine,
And violets in millions grow,
And they in many a golden line
Are sung, as every child must know.
Perhaps Fame thinks his worried eyes,
His wrinkled, shrewd, pathetic face,
His shop, and all he sells and buys
Are desperately commonplace.
Well, it is true he has no sword
To dangle at his booted knees.
He leans across a slab of board,
And draws his knife and slices cheese.
He never heard of chivalry,
He longs for no heroic times;
He thinks of pickles, olives, tea,
And dollars, nickles, cents and dimes.
His world has narrow walls, it seems;
By counters is his soul confined;
His wares are all his hopes and dreams,
They are the fabric of his mind.
Yet -- in a room above the store
There is a woman -- and a child
Pattered just now across the floor;
The shopman looked at him and smiled.
For, once he thrilled with high romance
And tuned to love his eager voice.
Like any cavalier of France
He wooed the maiden of his choice.
And now deep in his weary heart
Are sacred flames that whitely burn.
He has of Heaven's grace a part
Who loves, who is beloved in turn.
And when the long day's work is done,
(How slow the leaden minutes ran!)
Home, with his wife and little son,
He is no huckster, but a man!
And there are those who grasp his hand,
Who drink with him and wish him well.
O in no drear and lonely land
Shall he who honors friendship dwell.
And in his little shop, who knows
What bitter games of war are played?
Why, daily on each corner grows
A foe to rob him of his trade.
He fights, and for his fireside's sake;
He fights for clothing and for bread:
The lances of his foemen make
A steely halo round his head.
He decks his window artfully,
He haggles over paltry sums.
In this strange field his war must be
And by such blows his triumph comes.
What if no trumpet sounds to call
His armed legions to his side?
What if, to no ancestral hall
He comes in all a victor's pride?
The scene shall never fit the deed.
Grotesquely wonders come to pass.
The fool shall mount an Arab steed
And Jesus ride upon an ass.
This man has home and child and wife
And battle set for every day.
This man has God and love and life;
These stand, all else shall pass away.
O Carpenter of Nazareth,
Whose mother was a village maid,
Shall we, Thy children, blow our breath
In scorn on any humble trade?
Have pity on our foolishness
And give us eyes, that we may see
Beneath the shopman's clumsy dress
The splendor of humanity!
poem by Joyce Kilmer
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Saddled On the Back of a Steed
Saddled on the back of a steed she is.
Moistered from a heated sweat.
She wishes to tease as she rides.
Butt naked on hilltops.
And loving the fast ride to the bottom,
Where she is dropped.
And she lays next to her muscled steed.
Fantasizing the next throb she gets,
When thrusted with a hustle nonstop.
To gaze and show an afterglow.
That satisfies her peacefully.
As she watches her steed thighs,
Pass her swiftly.
With a mighty galloped gale.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Black Charger
There's a terrible steed that rests not night nor day,
But onward and onward, for ever away,
Through hamlet, through village, through country, through town,
Is heard the dread thud of his hoofs beating down;
Is seen the fierce eye, is felt the hot breath;
And before it, behind it, spreads ruin and death:
By castle, by cottage, by hut, and by hall,
Still faster and fiercer he passes them all.
He breathes on the youth with the face of the morn,
He leaves him a mark for the finger of scorn;
He cries, 'Mount and ride! I will bear you away
To the fair fields of pleasure. Come, mount me, I say!'
And, alas for the youth! he is borne like the wind,
And he leaveth his manhood, his virtue, behind;
And faster, still faster, he speeds down the track,
Where many shall follow, and few shall come back.
He breathes on the heart that is stricken with grief:
'Come, mount me! and fly to the plains of relief.
I will bear you away to the fair fields elysian,
Where your sorrows shall seem but a long-vanished vision.
With the future before you, forgetting the past,
You shall revel in pleasure, rejoicing at last.'
Ah! whoso shall mount shall ride to his doom:
Shall be sunk in the marshes of terror and gloom.
He breathes on the king, and he breathes on the slave;
On the young and the old from the crib to the grave;
On masterly minds, and they wither away
As the flower droops and dies 'neath a torrid sun's ray;
On beautiful souls that are pure as the light,
And they shrivel, polluted with mildew and blight:
The master, the servant, the high and the low,
He bears them all down to the regions of woe.
Ho! ho! temperance clan! rest ye not night nor day:
Watch, watch for the steed! starve him down! block his way!
Throw him into the dust! seize his long, flowing mane!
Bind his terrible limbs till he quivers in pain.
Stab him through to the heart! beat him down till he lies
Stark and stiff on the earth-beat him down till he dies!
Till never by castle, by cottage, by hall,
Shall again pass the black-hearted steed, Alcohol!
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Band of Gideon
The band of Gideon roam the sky,
The howling wind is their war-cry,
The thunder roll is their trump's peal,
And the lightning flash their vengeful steel.
Each black cloud
Is a fiery steed.
And they cry aloud
With each strond deed,
"The sword of the lord and Gideon."
And men below rear temples high
And mock their God with reasons why,
And live in arrogance, sin and shame,
And rape their souls for the world's good name.
Each black cloud
Is a fiery steed.
And they cry aloud
With each strond deed,
"The sword of the lord and Gideon."
The band of Gideon roam the sky
And view the earth with baleful eye,
In holy wrath they scourge the land
With earth-quake, storm and burning brand.
Each black cloud
Is a fiery steed.
And they cry aloud
With each strond deed,
"The sword of the lord and Gideon."
The lightnings flash and the thunders roll,
And "Lord have mercy on my soul,"
Cry men as they fall on the stricken sod,
In agony searching for their God.
Each black cloud
Is a fiery steed.
And they cry aloud
With each strond deed,
"The sword of the lord and Gideon."
And men repent and then forget
That heavenly wrath they ever met,
The band of Gideon yet will come
And strike their tongues of blasphemy dumb.
Each black cloud
Is a fiery steed.
And they cry aloud
With each strond deed,
"The sword of the lord and Gideon."
poem by Joseph Seamon Cotter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Unicorn
In the land of make believe
lives a creature in the wild.
Sleek, white and beautiful to see,
I become again as a child.
I ride bare-back and feel the muscles
of this steed with a horn.
We ride through the clouds slowly
and a new morn is born.
I will tame his wildness and spirit
for I am still a virgin.
Chaste and still able to mount.
I have the power over him.
Unicorn, my unicorn I fear growing up
for surely I will fall in love
and maidenheads will be forgotten
and you will rise above
searching for another virgin maiden
to grab hold your horn in their hand.
And I will miss the ride we shared
in this wonderful magic land.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ride on, Lord
Ride on, Lord, ride on
The final deed is yet to be done.
Ride on, Lord, ride, ride
As the crowd 'Hosannah' cried
Ride on, Lord, ride, ride
To Golgotha to be crucified
White Republican Male Jesus?
White Republican Male Jesus?
what about...
black Jesus, brown Jesus,
Asian Jesus, atheist Jesus,
female Jesus, poor Jesus,
jobless Jesus, prison Jesus,
homeless Jesus, illegal immigrant Jesus?
dog Jesus, cat Jesus,
baby in a dumpster Jesus,
addict Jesus, old Jesus?
gay Jesus, union Jesus,
hungry Jesus, foreign Jesus?
bumming a cup of coffee Jesus?
brother Jesus, sister Jesus?
just bombed Jesus,
food stamp Jesus?
how many bodies? how many crosses?
you tell me!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Reflections of a Proud Pedestrian
I saw the curl of his waving lash,
And the glance of his knowing eye,
And I knew that he thought he was cutting a dash,
As his steed went thundering by.
And he may ride in the rattling gig,
Or flourish the Stanhope gay,
And dream that he looks exceeding big
To the people that walk in the way;
But he shall think, when the night is still,
On the stable-boy’s gathering numbers,
And the ghost of many a veteran bill
Shall hover around his slumbers;
The ghastly dun shall worry his sleep,
And constables cluster around him,
And he shall creep from the wood-hole deep
Where their spectre eyes have found him!
Ay! gather your reins, and crack your thong,
And bid your steed go faster;
He does not know, as he scrambles along,
That he has a fool for his master;
And hurry away on your lonely ride,
Nor deign from the mire to save me;
I will paddle it stoutly at your side
With the tandem that nature gave me!
poem by Oliver Wendell Holmes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Beautiful Mount Fuji
Beautiful Mount Fuji,
How are you?
Oh glory wonderland!
I am a passerby to say hello to you.
All the nations have heard about you,
From the morning frost to a picture at dawn;
Oh glory, glory, glory wonderland! !
Mount Fuji is your name.
Beautiful Mount Fuji how are you?
You already know my name since,
I am your frequent visitor;
All the nations have heard about you as well,
Like the precious stones on our necks.
I only need to climb you once to gain wisdom,
Beautiful Mount Fuji how are you?
I have hopes and dreams like all the visitors around;
Oh glory wonderland.
With Fujiyama as sight to play a role,
Come in the night and see her wonders;
Beautiful Mount Fuji,
I do respect you a lot.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Blind Bartimaeus
He would not let Jesus pass him by.
Called out to the Saviour with a loud cry.
It was his last chance to be made whole.
For blind from birth was this poor soul.
The crowd rebuked him to keep silent
but he cried out the more for he was intent
not to miss the Lord and let him pass by.
'Have mercy on me' was his loud cry.
Jesus stopped and bid them bring the man.
And jumping to his feet to Jesus he ran.
The Lord then said 'What do you want of me? '
'Rabbi', Bartimaeus said, 'I want to see.'
Immediately Jesus restored his sight
for he had faith that Jesus would put it right.
Then following Jesus along the way
his life had been miraculously changed that day.
As Bartimaeus we too have been born blind
and need like him the Saviour to find.
To cry 'Son of David have mercy on me.
Open my eyes, Lord, I want to see.'
It is at the cross that all can see
the extent of God's love for you and me.
And say to Jesus, 'Saviour hear my cry
while You touch others do not pass me by.'
Based on Mark 10: 46-52
* Spiritually blind
The Fool I Am
Never ceasing to pretend
that one day soon I'll have your hand.
However this will never come to pass.
The fool I am it would never last.
The fool I am with a heart of glass.
The fool I am who will soon at last,
be ripped and torn from the past.
You could not love nor could I blame,
thee a fool who seems quite plain.
The fool I am I hoped you would,
but clearly I'm not all that good.
The fool I am, so beaten and weary.
When will I be found worthy?
poem by Michael McParland
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Arab's Farewell To His Horse
MY beautiful! my beautiful! that standest meekly by
With thy proudly arched and glossy neck, and dark and fiery eye;
Fret not to roam the desert now, with all thy winged speed-
I may not mount on thee again-thou'rt sold, my Arab steed!
Fret not with that impatient hoof-snuff not the breezy wind-
The further that thou fliest now, so far am I behind;
The stranger hath thy bridle rein-thy master hath his gold-
Fleet-limbed and beautiful! farewell! -thou'rt sold, my steed-thou'rt sold!
Farewell! those free untired limbs, full many a mile must roam,
To reach the chill and wintry sky, which clouds the stranger's home;
Some other hand, less fond, must now thy corn and bed prepare;
The silky mane I braided once, must be another's care!
The morning sun shall dawn again, but never more with thee
Shall I gallop through the desert paths, where we were wont to be:
Evening shall darken on the earth; and o'er the sandy plain
Some other steed, with slower step, shall bear me home again.
Yes, thou must go! the wild free breeze, the brilliant sun and sky,
Thy master's home-from all of these, my exiled one must fly.
Thy proud dark eye will grow less proud, thy step become less fleet,
And vainly shalt thou arch thy neck, thy master's hand to meet.
Only in sleep shall I behold that dark eye, glancing bright
Only in sleep shall hear again that step so firm and light:
And when I raise my dreaming arm to check or cheer thy speed,
Then must I starting wake, to feel-thou'rt sold, my Arab steed!
Ah! rudely then, unseen by me, some cruel hand may chide,
Till foam-wreaths lie, like crested waves, along thy panting side:
And the rich blood, that is in thee swells, in thy indignant pain,
Till careless eyes, which rest on thee, may count each started vein.
Will they ill-use thee? If I thought-but no, it cannot be-
Thou art so swift, yet easy curbed; so gentle, yet so free.
And yet, if haply when thou'rt gone, my lonely heart should yearn-
Can the hand which casts thee from it now, command thee to return?
Return! -alas! my Arab steed! what shall thy master do,
When thou who wert his all of joy, hast vanished from his view?
When the dim distance cheats mine eye, and through the gath'ring tears
Thy bright form, for a moment, like the false mirâge appears.
Slow and unmounted will I roam, with weary foot alone,
Where with fleet step, and joyous bound, thou oft hast borne me on;
And, sitting down by that green well, I'll pause and sadly think,
'It was here he bowed his glossy neck, when last I saw him drink! '
When last I saw thee drink! -away! the fevered dream is o'er-
I could not live a day, and know, that we should meet no more!
They tempted me, my beautiful! for hunger's power is strong-
They tempted me, my beautiful! but I have loved too long.
Who said that I had given thee up? Who said that thou wert sold?
'Tis false-'tis false, my Arab steed! I fling them back their gold!
Thus, thus, I leap upon thy back, and scour the distant plains;
Away! who overtakes us now, shall claim thee for his pains!
poem by Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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An Arab Shepherd Is Searching For His Goat On Mount Zion
An Arab shepherd is searching for his goat on Mount Zion
And on the opposite hill I am searching for my little boy.
An Arab shepherd and a Jewish father
Both in their temporary failure.
Our two voices met above
The Sultan's Pool in the valley between us.
Neither of us wants the boy or the goat
To get caught in the wheels
Of the "Had Gadya" machine.
Afterward we found them among the bushes,
And our voices came back inside us
Laughing and crying.
Searching for a goat or for a child has always been
The beginning of a new religion in these mountains.
poem by Yehuda Amichai
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ride My See-saw
Ride, ride my see-saw,
Take this place
On this trip
Just for me.
Ride, take a free ride,
Take my place
Have my seat
Its for free.
I worked like a slave for years,
Sweat so hard just to end my fears.
Not to end my life a poor man,
But by now, I know I should have run.
Run, run my last race,
Take my place
Have this number
Of mine.
Run, run like a fire,
Dont you run in
In the lanes
Run for time.
Left school with a first class pass,
Started work but as second class.
School taught one and one is two.
But right now, that answer just aint true.
Ah ah ah ah, ah ah ah ah, ah ah ah ah ah
Ah ah ah ah, ah ah ah ah, ah ah ah ah ah
My world is spinning around,
Everything is lost that I found.
People run, come ride with me,
Lets find another place thats free.
Ride, ride my see-saw,
Take this place
On this trip
Just for me.
Ride, take a free ride,
Take my place
Have my seat
Its for free.
Ride, my see-saw.
Ride, ride, ride, my see-saw.
Ride, my see-saw...
song performed by by Moody Blues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fool For Your Love
(diana ross/ray chew/bill wray)
What do you want, baby
One last piece of my heart
What do you need, baby
We could make a new start
Im not scared
All the nights alone
Lying there crying with the television on
Watching those scoops about love and happiness
Wonder what I ever did to deserve a fate like
I dont wanna be around
For that famous final scene
I just cant help myself
Im a fool for your love
Leave me alone, please
My heart cant take any more
You left me going crazy
It started like just like a phone
Youre the number one
Youre the only one I need
If you dont want my love
Then set me free
I dont wanna be around
For that famous final scene
I cant help myself
Im a fool for your love
Dont come closer
You know Im easy to phone
You dont love me
Any fool can see
Im telling you goodbye
Bye, bye
Leave me alone, please
My heart cant take anymore
Leave me alone, please
Let me walk out that door
Leave me alone, leave me alone, leave me alone
I dont wanna be around
For that famous final scene
I just cant help myself
Im a fool for your love
Im a fool for your love
Im a fool for your love
Leave me alone, leave me alone, leave me alone
A fool for your love
Im a fool for your love
Leave me alone, please
My heart cant take it no more
Leave me alone, leave me alone
song performed by by Diana Ross
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Song (Untitled #7)
Thou to me art such a spring
As the Arab seeks at eve,
Thirsty from the shining sands;
There to bathe his face and hands,
While the sun is taking leave,
And dewy sleep is a delicious thing.
Thou to me art such a dream
As he dreams upon the grass,
While the bubbling coolness near
Makes sweet music in his ear;
And the stars that slowly pass
In solitary grandeur o'er him gleam.
Thou to me art such a dawn
As the dawn whose ruddy kiss
Wakes him to his darling steed;
And again the desert speed,
And again the desert bliss,
Lightens thro' his veins, and he is gone!
poem by George Meredith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Salvation
how many Jesus's does it take?
rock n roll Jesus, civil rights Jesus,
sexual Jesus, Baptist Jesus,
Pentecostal snake Jesus...
heroin Jesus, small town family Jesus,
necklace Jesus, tattoo Jesus,
illegal immigrant Jesus...
Jesus on the cross in a drunk tank Jesus,
Marlboro Jesus, county fair Jesus,
pray for Armagadden Jesus...
or just a man,
living one day, one moment,
one bare naked dirty human need
at a time...
with open hands, open heart,
and open mind!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Denomination Blues
(washington phillips)
(g) - (c) - (d)
(g) I wanna tell you people its a natral fact
Evry man dont understand bout the life
And thats (c) all, I tell you thats (g) all
cause you better have (d) jesus
I tell you thats (g) all
Well, the denominations have the right to fight
They ought go on and treat each other right
And thats all, I tell you thats all
cause you better have jesus
I tell you thats all
Its right to stand together, wrong to stand apart
When none will enter heaven but the pure at heart
And thats all, Ill tell you thats all
cause you better have jesus
Ill tell you thats all
Well, the primitive baptists they believe
That you cant go to heaven less you wash your feet
And thats all, Ill tell you thats all
cause you better have jesus
I tell you thats all
Well, the african methodists, they believe the same
cause they know demonination aint a thing but a name
And thats all, Ill tell you thats all
cause you better have jesus
I tell you thats all
Well, people that jump from church to church
You can bet their conversion dont amount too much
And thats all, Ill tell you thats all
cause you better have jesus
I tell you thats all
Well, you can to your college, you can go to your school
But if you aint got jesus, youse (you are) an educated fool
And thats all, Ill tell you thats all
cause you better have jesus
I tell you thats all
song performed by by Ry Cooder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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But there is a difference here: When Jewish children are murdered, Arabs celebrate the deed. The death of an Arab child is no cause for celebration in Israel.
quote by Theodore Bikel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It was in our power to set high price for our blood, a price too high for the Arab community, the Arab army, or the Arab governments to think it worth paying.
quote by Moshe Dayan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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