Poetry Corner

[MrHyeSev]

Re: Poetry Corner

The Armor of God

Put on the armor of Almighty God,
so you can withstand Satan’s schemes.
Our battle is not against flesh and blood;
no, things are not as they seem.

Our fight is against the powers of darkness,
with the forces of evil on high.
But He gave us His armor so we can stand firm,
on the Earth and in the sky.

Gird your loins with truth, which will always bear out,
the breastplate of righteousness wear.
Shod your feet with preparation of the gospel of peace;
take the shield of faith everywhere.

Take the helmet of salvation to wear on your head,
and the Spirit’s sword in your hand.
And pray in the Spirit all of the time so
against Satan’s plots you can stand.

Peggy McIlveene

[Tali]

Re: Poetry Corner

WOW tali very inspirational
AWESOME Poem

Thank you Pepsi
she died two days ago.

[MrHyeSev]

Re: Poetry Corner

I'll remember sitting down at the kitchen table,

watching you cook when you were able.

Your hands would be quick, your eyes ever watchful;

you smiled as you watched us fill our mouth full.

<3

I remember much later we came back on Christmas.

There you were, at the door, ready to welcome us.

You hugged me close and said "Hey, Talisa" -

to which I'd respond: "Merry Xmas, Grandma!"

<3

But then your memory of me started to fade,

it felt like heartbreak was the new Crusade.

The pain that came was oh so strong...

it felt like I was cheated; all so wrong!

<3

In your final days, I came to visit..

knowing you wouldn't know me a bit..

but such is the way with that disease

it took your memory, put your life on freeze.

<3

Now that you've gone to your God you'll stay;

With those angels surrounding, on harps they'll play

the melodies of your favorite songs each day.

You happy and laughing.. I'll remember you this way.

WOW tali very inspirational
AWESOME Poem

[Tali]

Re: Poetry Corner

I'll remember sitting down at the kitchen table,

watching you cook when you were able.

Your hands would be quick, your eyes ever watchful;

you smiled as you watched us fill our mouth full.

<3

I remember much later we came back on Christmas.

There you were, at the door, ready to welcome us.

You hugged me close and said "Hey, Talisa" -

to which I'd respond: "Merry Xmas, Grandma!"

<3

But then your memory of me started to fade,

it felt like heartbreak was the new Crusade.

The pain that came was oh so strong...

it felt like I was cheated; all so wrong!

<3

In your final days, I came to visit..

knowing you wouldn't know me a bit..

but such is the way with that disease

it took your memory, put your life on freeze.

<3

Now that you've gone to your God you'll stay;

With those angels surrounding, on harps they'll play

the melodies of your favorite songs each day.

You happy and laughing.. I'll remember you this way.

[freakyfreaky]

Re: Poetry Corner

The Revolution Will Not Be Televised

You will not be able to stay home, brother.
You will not be able to plug in, turn on and cop out.
You will not be able to lose yourself on skag and skip,
Skip out for beer during commercials,
Because the revolution will not be televised.

The revolution will not be televised.
The revolution will not be brought to you by Xerox
In 4 parts without commercial interruptions.
The revolution will not show you pictures of Nixon
blowing a bugle and leading a charge by John
Mitchell, General Abrams and Spiro Agnew to eat
hog maws confiscated from a Harlem sanctuary.
The revolution will not be televised.

The revolution will not be brought to you by the
Schaefer Award Theatre and will not star Natalie
Woods and Steve McQueen or Bullwinkle and Julia.
The revolution will not give your mouth sex appeal.
The revolution will not get rid of the nubs.
The revolution will not make you look five pounds
thinner, because the revolution will not be televised, Brother.

There will be no pictures of you and Willie May
pushing that shopping cart down the block on the dead run,
or trying to slide that color television into a stolen ambulance.
NBC will not be able predict the winner at 8:32
or report from 29 districts.
The revolution will not be televised.

There will be no pictures of pigs shooting down
brothers in the instant replay.
There will be no pictures of pigs shooting down
brothers in the instant replay.
There will be no pictures of Whitney Young being
run out of Harlem on a rail with a brand new process.
There will be no slow motion or still life of Roy
Wilkens strolling through Watts in a Red, Black and
Green liberation jumpsuit that he had been saving
For just the proper occasion.

Green Acres, The Beverly Hillbillies, and Hooterville
Junction will no longer be so damned relevant, and
women will not care if D-ick finally gets down with
Jane on Search for Tomorrow because Black people
will be in the street looking for a brighter day.
The revolution will not be televised.

There will be no highlights on the eleven o’clock
news and no pictures of hairy armed women
liberationists and Jackie Onassis blowing her nose.
The theme song will not be written by Jim Webb,
Francis Scott Key, nor sung by Glen Campbell, Tom
Jones, Johnny Cash, Englebert Humperdink, or the Rare Earth.
The revolution will not be televised.

The revolution will not be right back after a message
bbout a white tornado, white lightning, or white people.
You will not have to worry about a dove in your
bedroom, a tiger in your tank, or the giant in your toilet bowl.
The revolution will not go better with Coke.
The revolution will not fight the germs that may cause bad breath.
The revolution will put you in the driver’s seat.

The revolution will not be televised, will not be televised,
will not be televised, will not be televised.
The revolution will be no re-run brothers;
The revolution will be live.

- Gil Heron

[MrHyeSev]

Re: Poetry Corner

MONROE LOUISIANA
On the green, green farm
In green, green Monroe Louisiana
So green, green
Wet-luscious green and alive
So green after the rain
So bright green and clean
Just passing through
On my way to tomorrow
But so green today and yesterday
It was on that stranger's green, green farm
And I didn't stay long
And I didn't expect someone
To fire that shotgun right next to me
The barrel pointed out the front door
Into that green, green world beyond.
There were hot springs
On the green, green farm
In green, green Monroe Louisiana
Back in 1973.

-M.L. Squier

[MrHyeSev]

Re: Poetry Corner

I was thinking "Hmm... Pepsi's poetry has improved!" then I reached the last line...

As if everyone on here has there own poetry. (right)

[freakyfreaky]

Re: Poetry Corner

Blues

Those five or six young guys

lunched on the stoop

that oven-hot summer night

whistled me over. Nice

and friendly. So, I stop.

MacDougal or Christopher

Street in chains of light.



A summer festival. Or some

saint's. I wasn't too far from

home, but not too bright

for a n-igger, and not too dark.

I figured we were all

one, wop, n-igger, j-ew,

besides, this wasn't Central Park.

I'm coming on too strong? You figure

right! They beat this yellow n-igger

black and blue.



Yeah. During all this, scared

on case one used a knife,

I hung my olive-green, just-bought

sports coat on a fire plug.

I did nothing. They fought

each other, really. Life

gives them a few kicks,

that's all. The spades, the spicks.



My face smashed in, my bloddy mug

pouring, my olive-branch jacket saved

from cuts and tears,

I crawled four flights upstairs.

Sprawled in the gutter, I

remember a few watchers waved

loudly, and one kid's mother shouting

like "Jackie" or "Terry,"

"now that's enough!"

It's nothing really.

They don't get enough love.



You know they wouldn't kill

you. Just playing rough,

like young Americans will.

Still it taught me somthing

about love. If it's so tough,

forget it.

-- Gary Snyder


A City’s Death by Fire

After that hot gospeller has levelled all but the churched sky,

I wrote the tale by tallow of a city's death by fire;

Under a candle's eye, that smoked in tears, I

Wanted to tell, in more than wax, of faiths that were snapped like wire.

All day I walked abroad among the rubbled tales,

Shocked at each wall that stood on the street like a liar;

Loud was the bird-rocked sky, and all the clouds were bales

Torn open by looting, and white, in spite of the fire.

By the smoking sea, where Christ walked, I asked, why

Should a man wax tears, when his wooden world fails?

In town, leaves were paper, but the hills were a flock of faiths;

To a boy who walked all day, each leaf was a green breath

Rebuilding a love I thought was dead as nails,

Blessing the death and the baptism by fire.

-- Gary Snyder

[Tali]

Re: Poetry Corner

Two Snakes by Dakota Ellerton

You and I are two heads on the same snake
the poison running through you
runs through me.
If I bite you, I die too.
Our thoughts, not so different,
why do act alone?
You have a similar in this world
you have another side to you.
You can never rid me,
nor would I ever leave you alone.
We have two heads, one body, we are equal
yet you are still dominate.
You have most of our body.
If I died, you would live,
if you died, so would I.
I will never slither on my own.
You, are not me but like me.

[freakyfreaky]

Re: Poetry Corner

In the Armenian Mountains

The way was heavy and the night was dark,
And yet we survived
Both sorrow and gloom.
Through the ages we go and gaze at the stark
Steep heights of our land-
The Armenian Highlands.

We carry from old our treasure,
Vast as the sea,
Brought into life
By the great soul of our people,
In our lofty land-
The Armenian Highlands.

How many times
The savage hordes
From the blazing desert
Tore and tormented
Our caravan
In our blood-smeared land-
The Armenian Highlands.

Yet, plundered and scattered,
Our caravan
Sought its way out
From among the rocks
Counting the scars of its countless wounds
In our mournful land-
The Armenian Highlands.
And we gaze with dolorous, longing eyes
At the earth in its gloom,
At the distant stars;
Ah, when will the dawn break at last
Over our green
Armenian Highlands.

-- Hovhannes Toumanian

The Ancient Blessing

'Neath a hazel's green, gathered in a ring
Sat the men of age, who had known life's sting.
They sat them around,
Stooped on the ground,
For feasting and song,
This ven'rable throng,
Our fathers, the aged, our seniors, the sage
Honoured for their age.
With uncovered heads we three of us stood;
We were school friends good,
Just three village lads, spirited and lighthearted.
Our hands on our chests in humbleness lay
As in voices strong we enlivened the throng
With song after song.
At the songs of joy of our childhood world
The gray Tamada his moustaches twirled,
Then each filled his cup to the very brim
And stood up with him.
This blessing they spoke "Live long, lads, live happy,
Not as we lived in our day!"
Peace to your bones, our fathers who moaned!
The ills that you bore we also have known,
And now, in moments of joy or distress,
When children we bless,
We speak in your words: "Live long, lads, live happy,
Not as we lived in our day!"

-- Hovhannes Toumanian

Dawn

Roses upon roses
Spread in sheets below,
In the high blue ether
Clouds that shine like snow,
Lightly, brightly, softly,
Spread before thy feet,
In this tranquil season
Wait thy face to greet;
Waits in hope all nature,
O Aurora sweet!

Radiant, pure she rises,
In her veil of white,
With her floating tresses
Gleaming golden bright,
Spreading wide in ripples
By the zephyrs swayed,
And her pearly pinions
Opening, half displayed -
Gracious, fair Aurora,
The celestial maid.

On her brow bright j-ewels
Glow in loveliness,
And her joyous glances
Heaven and earth caress;
While her rose-lips, brighter
Than earth's blooming bowers,
Smiling blithely, scatter
Perfume sweet in showers,
Making yet more fragrant
Many-coloured flowers.

Now the small birds twitter
'Mid the leaves so green,
Blending with their rustle;
Hail, O Dawn serene!
Hail! Thou changest darkness
Into sunlight free,
The sad earth thou makest
Glad and full of glee.
All created beings
Cry "All hail" to thee.

Unto thee each offers
Its first gift in love,
Tenderest gift and holiest;
Cloud that floats above,
Zephyr, crystal streamlet,
Flowers and nightingale -
All with love are melted,
Praise thee, bid thee hail,
Heavenly maiden, lovely
In thy shining veil!

Thou our hearts that charmest
Now with such delight,
Leave us not forsaken
In the grave's dark night!
When our eyes are closing,
Let it beam and shine
Still before our souls' eyes,
That sweet light of thine,
Full of hope and promise,
Dawn, thou maid divine!

-- Archbishop Khoren Nar Bey de Lusignan

Farewell Song

Every moment with sorrowing love I say farewell,
I say farewell to the sun, blazing in my heart.

I say goodbye to men everywhere, evil and kind,
I say goodbye to Adam's afflicted and orphaned sons.

Farewell to my close and distant friends,
Farewell to the enemies who watch me.

To the sky's blue, the sea's living green, the forest darkness,
To the light inside a spring cloud, I bid farewell.

To the shining chain of my memory, my nights and my pain,
To the larks in golden fields, I say farewell.

And goodbye to the unopened flowers, to the souls yet unkindled,
To the lively, playing children, farewell.

I am going to a darker earth, a remote land, I will not come back,
Remember me well in your hearts, I say goodbye, farewell.

-- Vahan Derian