Long Bring forth Poems
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Your words, which seem to be my words,
are but footprints on the fen floor of
the white page, echoes of wand'ring lyric loping.
And if, perhaps, the P's that B have blessed,
they click, they crunch, they sweetly rot underlip.
Tearing words from mind, squeezing through that jealous heartspace.
Tearing follows, wetting page after page, piling into a formless stream.
They clatter upon the mocking whiteness, an array in disarray.
A shattered and graphic mythography, mud clots on tile
after a hike. Why do not my hot words summon Leidenfrost?
I love words, no...I love meaning.
I love meaning, I don't love
the promise of words' bringing of
meaning.
It is National Poetry Month and Shakespeare.
died today.* The first time he died today was
four hundred years ago. I am set to write and read
'publicly' (which spellcheck insists and my heart
does not insist is better writ as 'public ally') some
'poetry' while dancers carve the air, in response to,
in love with, in relation to, hand/heart drawn trees
which have drawn, well-
wishers to wine 'n cheese' 'n chit 'n chat
an opening. A gallery.
But Prince died last night.
The artist formerly known as Prince Rogers Nelson,
and formerly known as a symbol,
and now formerly known as Prince. He died.
The symbol has gone and I don't know what it means.
The words are here behind my teeth, within my fingertips,
astride my heart, tickling that lump in my throat.
It is Earth Day, too. I'm supposed to say some words and make
them meaningful. And make them sing. And ring in the hearts as though
my ditherings are one tine of a tuning fork and the other is the spirits
of those dearly beloved, gathered here. Our coils unshuffled, for in our
sleep of life what dreams may come. But we stand upon, today, both
the funeral's grounds and the corpse to be. The Earth. We are meant
to celebrate her life as she withers. Strangled, starved, and trampled. And I?
I can't.
I just...
cant.
-ShhDragon
*He died today but every day we don't give birth to him with our tongue, on the stages of our heart, he remains a fetid, rotting, beautiful corpse. ’Lo four hundred years ago he died, but every day he isn't summoned, isn't animated, he remains dead. The fact of anniversary is our failing, our repeated failings, to bring forth what might be dead.
Helplessly calling
Helplessly falling
Falling into place
Running this race
Fall leaves on the ground
They make no single sound
I'm bound to see the other side
You're my one and only beautiful bride
Bite the bullet
Bite the bullet
See right through it
See right through the pain
I'm still waiting for His rain
Ease your mind
Seek peace and you'll find
Relief from on high
That's something I can't deny
Hold on to me...
Hold on to me...
Where shall I flee?
Don't worry - we'll get through this!
Don't doubt anymore - be full of gladness
Happiness is one teardrop away
I'm but a broken toy in broad daylight
Red, red roses bloom
In the frost of my gloom
I'm falling into pieces
Never once falling into place
I see the glorious sky
The time passes me by
I'm reaching out into empty space
I'm making a legendary trace
I'm bound to see the other side
My love, I close my eyes on this rowdy ride
Don't subside from my side
Embrace my solitude stride
Bravery boils in my blood
I sit back and solemnly nod
I'm so bound to make a legendary trace
With a thousand gallons of your grace...
I want to find a cure to your pain
The pain that has been driving you insane
Be careful not to offend anyone by any chance
There's mere encouragement in your life to enhance
I've got to get up and make a legendary trace
Even if it means showing you in your face
I've been receiving gratification towards you
Take a step back and realize what I've gone through
You're not a failure
You're a winner deep inside
You're not a bad person
Just swallow your pride!
I want to find a trace of a cure to your lost soul
I need to be more considerate as a whole
I believe in you, so be brave and live life to the fullest
You haven't a clue how muc you're looking your best
While I project feelings of grief
Give me your radiant relief
Listen to the voice,
Echoing whispers of lovely desire
Listen to your mind,
Burning bright like a marvelous wildfire
I want to endure the tribulation of life's strife
I will bring forth a cure to this dilemma and its aftermath
Leave the past behind us and we'll survive this hard life
You and I will find God's legendary trace by entering His path
I've spoke my mind to you
I've longed for your legendary trace
Forgive my downfalls like you do
I've often prayed for your nirvana grace
Page 7
We’ll build a wooden structure
With planks torn from our ships
And place it by their gates
Then we wait for the eclipse
Now I know you all have questions
About how I know these things
But I’ve studied all religions
Foreign Nations, Queens and Kings
Some kingdoms honor Bears
Some worship cats and eagles
Some lions, tigers, bears, “Oh My”
Foxes, wolfs and beagles
Now, these Trojans have one fondness
It stands upon four feet
It feeds upon the grassy plains
And they ride it down their streets
We will build it long and sleek
With a tail tacked to its end
And ears, upon its oblong head
But, with one thing more to send
There, concealed inside its belly
Are those who lie in wait
For the beast to be drawn inside
The Trojan’s massive gates
Page 8
So until the sun starts rising
You men must now embark
And assemble the device
While working in the dark
The others on the beach
A distraction will devise
To keep your labor secret
From those Trojan’s prying eyes
Now off with you, behind that mound
I have a party to attend
It’s not often I can have some fun
At the same time to offend
( Troy 1184 BC, The Beach Party )
The Flames of passion darted up
Into the evening air
It made the glittering of sand
Seamed like stars were everywhere
The drums had reached a beat
That made the young men, have to dance
And I’m sure it made The Trojans
Lose control and wet their pants
Page 9
While young men danced on burning sands
Displaying sex appeal
The Greeks would pause and strike a pose
And flex their buns of steel
The Trojans on the wall
Filled with heighten passion soon
Turned their backs and dropped the drawers
Displaying many moons
It seemed as if, we played all night
Now its time to take our chances
Bring forth the horse, and by due course
We all took second glances
The carpenters that worked all night
Had never seen the beast
It was a horrible interpretation
That is to say the least
I should have choose an artist
Much more suited for the task
For instead of building a mighty horse
There stood a giant ass.
No time to make corrections for
The dawn was growing near
We must move without detection
And crawl in through its rear
To be continued...................
The future will bring unexpected things,
A woeful tragedy our heart to sting,
And though our plans be laid so well,
A power, from where we cannot tell,
Moves, or turns circumstance around,
Here giving joy there bringing a frown.
An insignificant spark, a slippery spot,
An induced germ, a misplaced dot,
Can turn someone; a group, a horde,
To bring about peace or bare the sword.
What say ye then, my wise friend you;
Is it blind fate and a little luck too:
Some random power to tip the scale,
And bring forth heaven or show us hell?
Concerning the puzzle of seeming happenstance,
Can you of the future perceive a glance?
Has it reason or design at all,
Can man influence how 'fate' must fall?
How helpless then we tend to be,
If we be pawns in a random sea,
Where utmost effort is brought to naught,
A battle comes that would not be fought,
And all this turns on the merest flick,
Of someone's seeming uneventful trick.
Who can approve such an absurd display,
Of struggling mankind's effort made,
And undone by a change of wind,
The toss and turn of chance to send?
I will not accept such an odd charade
Of appearance too early or too late,
Of a random force that turns my way,
Into some strange and awkward play.
I choose a design of great import,
A meaningful kind, of a rational sort:
With a purpose far above the crush
Of humanity's desire filled headlong rush.
An intent supreme,of a virtuous kind,
With purer motive and reasoned mind;
To set things right and bring an end,
Far more desirable than chance can pen.
To vindicate the cause of all,
The pain, the strife, the rise and fall,
Of man's travail from then til now;
Though to prove it to you, I know not how.
Please bear with me and consider this,
Lest some good purpose we should miss,
Could the answer be thus simply stated:
"By Him and for Him they were created"?
The purpose of creation and the Adamic fall,
Could glory for Christ be the reason after all?
More magnificent a claim cannot be made.
No more noble reason for existence laid,
Than for my existence to be,
To glorify the one who is most Holy.
The Spirit written text does make the call,
Of one Lord supremely over all,
With a secondary purpose in mind,
Of a merciful and a redeeming kind.
All wrapped up in this purpose too,
Could be salvation for me and you.
I ask you now, does this ring true,
Creation made and with good purpose too?
Whispered words from behind a wall
to cronies gathered hale and tall.
“Go on ahead.” He said. “Let me see.”
“If I can turn her sweet, on me.”
From within, she heard the tale,
the rye snickers, the wolves’ wails.
Yet, so like the doe in lantern light,
the wail entranced, did not cause fright.
Wide-eyed, stunned, the morsel stood,
in frozen stance within the wood
within his reach and steady glance,
the wolf approached, as if to dance.
With swaggering grace, he set fast pace,
a honeyed tongued Knight on the chase.
He spoke of honor of valorous deeds,
of his manly virtues, and she took heed.
“No, no, no,” said the Maid, she was shy.
“I’m afraid.” She said. “Do I hear a lie?”
He turned up her chin, and eye to eye,
he stroked her cheek and heard her sigh.
He offered her cake, this starving waif
with trembling hands, she took the bait
for upon his full lips , tongue and skin,
she could taste the sugar deep within.
He sought the warmth of blood and bone,
he thought the conquest all his own.
Yet, she held a hope buried deep within,
to bring forth the goodness, she saw in him.
Oh, she could well feel his aching need,
'twas his seedling soul, she sought to feed,
the prey, prayed, long to touch his heart
to give the wolf a brand-new start.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Many’s the times, his teeth came near
to the blue-red vein in her throat,
and many’s the time the Universe stopped
like a dandelion seed afloat....
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The wolf in him balked for a short time,
tasted the joy of goodness’s wine;
loving, and feeling, and drinking anew,
what God has offered to each of you.
Could he extinguish this pure light?
Could he bring death to this delight?
Sorry, for the prey was the wolf within.
He was sore sorry; she’d let him begin.
Sorry, he could not grow in her arms.
Sorry, he could not succumb to her charms.
“Sorry,” was on the tip of his tongue
as he left, the prey on a run.
“Sorry.” said she, as her soul rose higher,
made stronger, though bathed in desire
like the fabled Phoenix so, she rose,
on the white wings of angels in repose.
A prayer floated back, as she drifted above
a prayer, she sent with her heart, to her love.
It echoed his sentiment of so many days.
“Sorry Love…” She said.
“May the Wolf find his Way.”
He chose me
As He looked down from the cross
He chose me – to live for Him
He chose me
From Calvary’s hill
To give back to Him
A heart who adores
He chose me
As light for this world
Shining like the stars
Whispering of forgiveness
He chose me
Breathed love through my soul
As He rose from the tomb
On that wonderful morning
He chose me
To lift my face from fear
Feeling the serenity of hope
That faith brings deep within
He chose me
To share His heavenly home
Without any doubt
There is a day He’s returning
He chose me
To go through this life
With His hand to hold me
And guide me through strife
He chose me
To listen to His word
With the assurance
That He will bring me home
He chose me
To meet Him on that day
When death rings it’s bell
And I’m off to meet Him
Face to face – through eternity
Praising Him who gave me
The light to guide
The hope to provide
The faith to know
His love is the answer
To every prayer I pray
I’m so thankful
He chose me!
John 15:16
“Ye have not chosen me, but I have chosen you, and ordained you, that ye should go and bring forth fruit, and that your fruit should remain: that whatsoever ye shall ask of the Father in my name, he may give it you.”
aikhtarani
kama nazar min ealaa alsalib
aikhtarani - li'aeish lah
aikhtarani
min tal aljuljitha
lnuetiah
qalb yaeshaq
aikhtarani
kanur lhdha alealam
mushriqat mithl alnujum
hms alaistighfar
aikhtarani
alhabu yatanafas min khilal ruwhiin
kama qam min alqabr
fi dhalik alsabah alrrayie
aikhtarani
lirafe wajhiin min alkhawf
alshueur bihudu' al'amal
hadha al'iiman yataeamaq fi alddakhil
aikhtarani
layusharik baytih alsamawii
bidun 'ayi shakin
hnak yawm yaeud
aikhtarani
'an tamura bihadhih alhaya
biadih liumsik bi
wawajahni khilal alfitna
aikhtarani
lilaistimae 'iilaa kalimatih
mae altaakid
'anah sawf yueiduni 'iilaa almanzil
aikhtarani
liliqayih fi dhalik alyawm
eindama yadiqu almawt fahu aljars
wa'ana dhahib lilqayih
wajhaan liwajh - eabr al'abadia
madh aldhy 'aetani
aldaw' litawjih
ealaa 'amali taqdim
al'iiman bialmaerifa
hubih hu aljawab
likuli salat 'asliin
'ana mumtan jiddaan
akhtarani!
EASTER english AND ARABIC !!! Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Line Gauthier
February 4, 2021
Madness exuded like the
war cries of epic battles
and sagas' past,
the myth of man and
the passionate woman.
As the eruption
began to procure its
preparations, Prince Alarumdives,
a moment with the King,
solace, questioning divinity.
"My father, what troubles
plague us? The trumpets
do sound, do us not, impede
decision, for moment's wisdom,
pray we gather and bring
forth a judgement non-grievous."
"Alarumdives, Alarumdives. . .
why we struggle; and endure,
our precious privy, our passion,
our victorious role, a
maddening hysteria,
turmoil, envy? Malice?
These perilous endeavors
that this kingdom, rightly
now, yours and mine,
forevermore, must uphold,
boldly, righteously, justice
and its decree."
"Father, this constance,
unhappy we, if respect
is compromised, be it for
balance, ignorance I
plead, for precious love,
my Geinere. . . ."
"Alarumdives, your wisdom
exceeds you, a gentle
harmony passed. Be it
sincere, your declarations
to cherish, this unition
of marriage, not as
virtue, for loves' royal
to the commons, not.
Can'st be, your labors,
this battle staging as
war closely approaches,
a test, shall worthy
proven, joy then."
"My father, this Luciferus
impediment, a call to
arms, due parry peasant
royalty. A falling star,
my mercies upon, this
calling of crusade, of
scarlet tides of Eden's
embrace, goodness surely
redeemed. As graceful knight,
I embark, these ardors
of dire tragedies, kingdoms
indifferent, be it of ill-virtue,
of ill-decree? May the spirits
that beckon bring forth
victory."
"Alarumdives, much needful
preparation, call'st to
arms, for the galleys
of this kingdom bulging
with cannon. I am to
the balcon to esquire,
gather, hence I salute."
"The masterful sounding of
the ram's horn, a call
to bravery!"
The hills of high, there
did stand, a large
platoon, the flags of
Scotland, a summoning
to port Wales. Torches
afire, blazening with
the perils of passion
and vixen angelic.
Viewing from afar, a
messenger apart, battle
today, no question.
As both tides
prepared for climax,
the gallians, sure
mighty, though as
the Gods did pray,
only a taste, hints
of nothing more.
The horns did exude,
and battle, that
erupted, was as
the raging winds
of Tyr. . . .
Egnehenots – of earth and stone
Chief elder – most wise upon the Salisbury Plain
an old man . . . loved deeply
revered father of the land
wakes before the sunrise
speaks with a clear wind voice
it is time . . . retniw ecitslos
The twelve bow . . . form together
three to a side
lift Otsego – clear water running
high in the air
in liturgical movements
move across the dark plain
whitlow grass . . . juniper shrubs . . . wild thyme . . .
sweeten the air
moss laden stones
soft upon leather-bound feet
Within the wind
haunting cries of the stone curlew
crested newts scramble for cover
the great bustard cuts the air with powerful wing beats
Ancient burial mounds appear
a sacred circle of life emergences
the procession stops . . . lowers
Egnehenots steps down, blesses the twelve
enters the holy inner circle alone
Laying his head against the mighty sarsens
begins to chant . . .
father of the blue stones
creator of the big sky light
upon these rocks I cling for your life
from sky, to earth let your love flow
On this holy day
your strength is once again revealed
wind and rain obey your commands
days, nights, seasons march to your song
how great and mighty is your power
Hear our cries upon the wind
absorb our tears upon the earth
our breath upon your mighty rocks
be now amongst your people
send forth the sun and rain
let the earth bring forth its riches
so that we may dance in your radiance
The sun breaks the horizon
Sending out shafts of lights
streaking across the sky
clouds turning purple then into shades of reds, oranges
a single ray of light strikes forth
straight as an arrow
illuminating the altar stone
connecting slaughter stone
and finally . . . the heel stone
Where
Where, an old man clings
A loud cheer explodes from the village
Food and wind flow – a celebration
A new year begins -
Rain clouds appear in the west
Egnehenots – of earth and stone
Love Generously
David Meade
12/8/2015
(Chorus): My name is breda Donkey
'Pon my back is de Christmas story
A carry God's son an' mercy
Down through the ages to wi glory
De baby born in Bethlehem's manger
Wi creator, redeemer, how stranger
Ole Balaam let mi carry him
Fi guh sell the Massa prophecy
An angel did appear to him
An' bring me square in history
Ole Balaam saw a star
Coming out of Jacob family
Jesus coming from beyond afar
To bring all sinners mercy
So one night breda Joseph call mi
Him seh O donkey come carry Mary
I know it was Balaam's prophecy
For Bethlehem's star was bright above me
No room, no room for the baby
Not a preacher in the earth was ready
So mi call 'pon mi animal family
Jesus cum guh mek yuh manger ready
The street was full of trafficking
While merchants count their money
Wi sang glory to man's joy born king
Jesus is the manger baby
Hush Mr. cow nuh bawl again
Red Heifer yuh sacrifice over
Likkle lambs guh skip 'pon de plain
Bethlehem bring forth the redeemer
Sweet likkle turtle dove you are free
The covenant of the ark is broken
Sweet Jesus bring love and jubilee
Same de greedy ole Balaam had spoken
But mi is donkey an mi work nuh done
A carry him before the cross
Mi labor till de second coming of the son
Sin is mi burden, but a him it cost
This song is written to the tune of Jamaican folk song: "Good evening, Mrs Cunningham
It is written for two voices that blend to sing the chorus, but sing each stanza in 2 parts. It
tells the story of Christmas from a donkey's point view, and yet stay true to the Bible
discourse.
Some words are peculiar to the Jamaican dialect for coloring of the song:
Breda: brother; 'pon:upon; de:the; wi:our; ole:old; mi:me; fi:to; guh:go
Cum:come ... had all words recapitulate to the Jamaican dialect even young Jamaicans would
have been alienated --- for the language was not encouraged in our homes where it was
considered bad talking. It is being revived through academics at the UWI again.
??Isaiah 5:1-8 KJVAAE??
[1] Now will I sing to my well-beloved a song of my beloved touching his vineyard. My well-beloved hath a vineyard in a very fruitful hill: [2] and he fenced it, and gathered out the stones thereof, and planted it with the choicest vine, and built a tower in the midst of it, and also made a winepress therein: and he looked that it should bring forth grapes, and it brought forth wild grapes. [3] And now, O inhabitants of Jerusalem, and men of Judah, judge, I pray you, betwixt me and my vineyard. [4] What could have been done more to my vineyard, that I have not done in it? Wherefore, when I looked that it should bring forth grapes, brought it forth wild grapes? [5] And now go to; I will tell you what I will do to my vineyard: I will take away the hedge thereof, and it shall be eaten up; and break down the wall thereof, and it shall be trodden down: [6] and I will lay it waste: it shall not be pruned, nor digged; but there shall come up briers and thorns: I will also command the clouds that they rain no rain upon it. [7] For the vineyard of the Lord of hosts is the house of Israel, and the men of Judah his pleasant plant: and he looked for judgment, but behold oppression; for righteousness, but behold a cry. [8] Woe unto them that join house to house, that lay field to field, till there be no place, that they may be placed alone in the midst of the earth!
??Matthew 22:2-8 KJVAAE??
[2] The kingdom of heaven is like unto a certain king, which made a marriage for his son, [3] and sent forth his servants to call them that were bidden to the wedding: and they would not come. [4] Again, he sent forth other servants, saying, Tell them which are bidden, Behold, I have prepared my dinner: my oxen and my fatlings are killed, and all things are ready: come unto the marriage. [5] But they made light of it, and went their ways, one to his farm, another to his merchandise: [6] and the remnant took his servants, and entreated them spitefully, and slew them. [7] But when the king heard thereof, he was wroth: and he sent forth his armies, and destroyed those murderers, and burned up their city. [8] Then saith he to his servants, The wedding is ready, but they which were bidden were not worthy.
[14] For many are called, but few are chosen.