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| Jubal's poems | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: May 28 2009, 05:59:11 PM (3,023 Views) | |
| Jubal | Aug 22 2009, 11:00:21 AM Post #31 |
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Let Us In A silent prayer from a darkened cave Where lions prowled and crept around A crack of light shone down from above He cried to the sun with a last mourning sound; "I've committed no crime Let my punishments cease In the vastness of time I can find you your peace In the end, in the end All you've got to do is let me in... Let me in." A woman in a cold stone cell In tower high in Burgundy From the parapet she fell And thus she lost her fight to be free She'd done nothing ill But fight for her land The glory of France Was restored by her hand; In the end, in the end All they had to do was let her in... Let her in. A naked child in the winter's chill A pit of blood and fear and death A bump against the neck, a kill A fall, a gasping final breath. Just one among millions Another lost face In the desperate struggle Of the whole human race In the end, in the end All we could have done was let them in... Let them in. I'm watching as you celebrate In dance and mirth and flowing love From cave to cell to Birkenau The outcasts saw the holy dove I drank the poisoned cup I served my long years To you my soul I offer up Can you bring me from my fears? In the end, in the end All you've got to do is let me in... Let me in. Please, oh please, just let me in... Let me in, Let me in. |
| I am Jubal the modder, Jubal the wayfarer, Jubal the admin. And I have come to you now, at the turning of the tide... | |
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| Andalus | Aug 29 2009, 10:30:56 AM Post #32 |
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Great stuff.
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| Jubal | Sep 6 2009, 08:08:12 PM Post #33 |
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The Caged Bird There's a bird in a cage It's a bird that I love It's not a great eagle Or a wren, or a dove There's a bird in a cage And it longs to be free But if I should free it Will it come back to me? I lifted the latch, Threw open the bars, And like a long-suffering pilgrim It flew to the stars. It sang to the emperors It charmed a princess It sang in Cathay And it sang to Queen Bess And the Princess, called Kate, Gave it drink from a bowl And some seed from a plate (It ate all the seeds whole) And that beautiful bird, With its cello-like song Forgot the small house Where I waited so long There's a bird that is free And I just have the cage With its small golden key And I sit here and age For my bird has left me I won't cry or weep now, my little birdie; I hope that you're happy, wherever you be. |
| I am Jubal the modder, Jubal the wayfarer, Jubal the admin. And I have come to you now, at the turning of the tide... | |
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| Andalus | Sep 12 2009, 12:48:16 PM Post #34 |
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Goldsmith
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Lovely poem there.
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| Jubal | Sep 29 2009, 07:26:23 PM Post #35 |
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IF DIE WE MUST The man walked out of his house one day And watched his family fleeing away Was he palest white? Was he Muslim or Jew? Was he black as the night? I couldn't tell you. But he saw the rockets in the sky And he saw the guns, saw his family die And he turned to me, as we stood on that hill, And sang me his song: I remember it still... "If die we must And if we must weep We shall stand here and fall While the world is asleep If die we must Shall we die on our feet? Is there any last glory? No - there is but defeat." He talked of death and he talked of life Of Thomas Shipp and Abram Smith Of the lost broken men Who knew they were through And still - even then - Stood before you. But the lives of the people that die every week The bold and the fearless, the feeble and meek Are the pawns in a game of man against men Where the winner must lose, and the loser is slain. "If die we must For some foreign belief For some stranger's ideal For another lord's fief If die we must We die for no-one; We do not need to lose To the point of a gun." The man walked away down the streets of Tehran; He looked back up towards Madrid; He turned to Cape Town And then to Petrograd To Tianamen Square To a bombed-out Baghdad. For the man who died in that forgotten land Died not by any soldier's hand But his killers were us - the world looking on And not lifting a finger until all is gone. "If die we must" His voice echoes still From the halls of mind Comes his face, soft and still; "If die we must Then we don't have a place In the suffering struggle Of this cursed human race." |
| I am Jubal the modder, Jubal the wayfarer, Jubal the admin. And I have come to you now, at the turning of the tide... | |
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| Jubal | Sep 29 2009, 08:15:16 PM Post #36 |
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Mercutio's Lament (Dedicated to Miss Katherine Backler) In Verona cemetery one day Gone to lay some flowers on my father's tomb I saw a man by a fine stone grave His face was full of deepest gloom. I stepped towards that marble stone To see who merited such grief To find what kind of man it was To whom death had been such a thief. He was a dancer, talker, Moonlight walker, And this the stone did show; He was Mercutio. He lived a man of merry wit Of poise and laughter, life and light; And this saddened face that I had seen Remembered his glory, life, and might. He was a wordsmith, fighter, Heart-fire's lighter, And his deeds did spark and glow; He was Mercutio. But in the mad hot days, so bright Two houses fought, and he stood tall; But bright blades crossed, and he was lost To rest behind a churchyard wall. He was proud and passionate, Merry and fair, And even in his overthrow, He was Mercutio. Plaguing two houses with his death A torch fell dim; a bell unrung And as he fell to being worm's meat A final dirge was left unsung. None could forget him, Boldest of men. And thus all must miss him so; Miss this god, This merry sprite, Mercutio. |
| I am Jubal the modder, Jubal the wayfarer, Jubal the admin. And I have come to you now, at the turning of the tide... | |
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| Jubal | Sep 29 2009, 08:27:31 PM Post #37 |
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A Window in my Mind Get up Feel fine The world Is mine Look out I find I'm trapped In my own mind From the high mountain passes To the rolling sea From the deepest caverns To the broad oak tree I look out the window Out the window, Out the window. I look out the window To be free. Concrete And steel Is this Place even real? These words They say Mean nothing To me today There's nothing left of bravery And love's river's run dry. The flower's dead of chivalry And it's time for hope to die... But I look out the window Out the window, Out the window. I look out the window To be free! |
| I am Jubal the modder, Jubal the wayfarer, Jubal the admin. And I have come to you now, at the turning of the tide... | |
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| Andalus | Oct 2 2009, 09:11:08 PM Post #38 |
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Goldsmith
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Good stuff! I love all three. You write very poignant works. |
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| Jubal | Oct 17 2009, 10:49:42 AM Post #39 |
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Today and Tomorrow Now is the time When words shall speak louder than guns When fingers on a keyboard shall topple Empires When each nation puts the reporter above the statesman When the news of war is of greater import than the outcome. Now is the time When the fractured world shall pull ever closer to falling When the work of one man can bring the ruin of thousands When the bombs fly and the fear spreads Now is the time when the hate comes. So what of tomorrow? Tomorrow shall be the day When human voices shall drown out the bombings When a bright dawn shall arise over Kabul When the faces, black and white, shall look on each other in pure wonder When the reign of humans shall end, and the reign of humanity shall begin. I shall be there I shall be singing I shall be standing in the sun-trail I shall be laughing in the brighness of a new day! Edited by Jubal, Oct 20 2009, 07:22:09 PM.
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| I am Jubal the modder, Jubal the wayfarer, Jubal the admin. And I have come to you now, at the turning of the tide... | |
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| Jubal | Oct 17 2009, 11:06:26 AM Post #40 |
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Siren Song I thought my thoughts were almost gone Nothing left to grab and hang on Bitter at the faithless dove I thought my life was almost through I looked for a way out of love But you... You're like a siren, Singing through to me. Like a lighthouse, Shining out to sea. Like a lullaby, sending me to sleep To dream of you and me. Some say words will hurt me sore Or gun, or sword, or lion's roar. Or even mighty dragon's teeth And not a word of it is true. Nothing pierces my skin But you... You're like a siren, Singing through to me. Like a lighthouse, Shining out to sea. Like a lullaby, sending me to sleep To dream of you and me. Just like a siren, Singing through to me. Like a lighthouse, Shining out to sea. Like a lullaby, sending me to sleep To dream of you Just you And me. |
| I am Jubal the modder, Jubal the wayfarer, Jubal the admin. And I have come to you now, at the turning of the tide... | |
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| Jubal | Oct 26 2009, 08:07:18 AM Post #41 |
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The Road to Magalie (Dedicated to Miss Maggie Bridge) I walked one day to Magalie Where that place is I cannot say; I crossed a bridge to get there though, For Magalie is far away. I crossed a bridge to Magalie, I met a maiden standing there. She had a strange and wistful smile, A mane of wondrous gold-thread hair. "You're on a road to Magalie" She didn't even look away Just stared down to the river sea That glinted in the early day. "I was told to go to Magalie To find what I was searching for And until I come to Magalie I shan't returnto my own home door" She looked me in the eye right then With eyes of azure, winter blue; "I doubt you'll get to Magalie Unless it wants to get to you." We talked a while, and laughed a while Gazing down or to the furthest shore Until I'd found a fine new friend, And thought I wanted nothing more. But then dawn came upon the bridge And Magalie still seemed far away; I bade my friend well, and put on my boots And stepped into the fresh, new day. As I stepped off the bridge to Magalie I looked right back with a mournful cry Realising I'd found Magalie; And in my haste had passed her by. Edited by Jubal, Oct 27 2009, 08:35:07 AM.
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| I am Jubal the modder, Jubal the wayfarer, Jubal the admin. And I have come to you now, at the turning of the tide... | |
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| Jubal | Oct 26 2009, 08:18:35 AM Post #42 |
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Cello (Dedicated to Ellie Bishop and Tom Isaac, for making their music) Shivering at the light touch of a finger. Throbbing in motion Emotion moves them, for it is emotion Behind the human Behind the hand Behind the bow. And so they sing. Strings, singing. A choir to captivate a choir A cry of pain or the soft talk of lovers Captured in the strings. And the strings do not stay silent. Praying to the angels The gentlest hand moves them far from human reason. If one were to do as Odysseus' men And block up one's ears to that siren call Perhaps then would be seen the beauty of the cellist Benath the columned grace of a concert hall. Perhaps then the soft smile would draw you in And wish your heart stood behind a wall. But no, but no, alas, but never; For there is nothing there but the bow on the string The fingers moving, pale in the light. And - oh, gods! - the music. Just the strings And their music And me. Edited by Jubal, Oct 26 2009, 08:40:32 PM.
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| I am Jubal the modder, Jubal the wayfarer, Jubal the admin. And I have come to you now, at the turning of the tide... | |
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| Jubal | Oct 26 2009, 08:39:14 PM Post #43 |
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A Kakapoem (Dedicated to all Kakapoes, past, present and future) I wandered in the summer rain I saw a bird who looked at me And so I looked at him again And he jumped down from a tall forest tree. And the bird didn't fly off, but walked And so, that bird and I, we talked. A parrot he was, and large at that He strode along the leaf-strewn ground He looked like Cardigan (without the hat) And boomed to his mate with a long, lonely sound He sat in a hollow and made it his own And looked o'er the valley, his state to bemoan. The Kakapo just made a sigh; There's too few left for when I die Though I boom all day, and though I try There's too few mates, I say; oh, my! "A thousand of us once strode here Until the rats and rodents came And all of us lived a hundred years And feared no foe, for all were tame. But now there's men and sharp-clawed beasts And for them Kakapoes are well-killed feasts" "Kakapo", I stand and cry "Kakapo, why don't you fly? Kakapo, take to the sky! Or, Kakapo... you might die." "My bones are heavy, my wings too small I cannot leap into the air Just try and hide among the leaves long and tall And hide in my long-lost forested lair For as man has come to these islands here The Kakapoes have lost out, year by year." Kakapo, since you cant fly Let us sit and wistfully watch the sky As planeloads of humans go cruising by And the last of the Kakapoes die. Edited by Jubal, Oct 31 2009, 10:49:23 AM.
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| I am Jubal the modder, Jubal the wayfarer, Jubal the admin. And I have come to you now, at the turning of the tide... | |
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| Jubal | Dec 20 2009, 10:09:02 PM Post #44 |
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An Atheist's Prayer Christmases come, and Christmases go; Still, the same Christmas. People come, and people go; And yet people, alas, never change. The world comes, though, and goes, and turns and moves. The world changes. And so god If there was ever god Looked away And so this is my prayer. This december, this month A child will be born near Bethlehem And they will be living in a world Of bomb and rocket and fatwa and death And I pray that that child will live to see a better world. But god If there was ever god Looked away And so this is my prayer. The snows of winter will melt On the icecaps, and a cub, meek and mild Will look up at its mother And its mother will have nothing to feed it And no-one will take that young beast and flee to better lands And no-one will bring it gifts So I pray that my children's world will still the have animals in that mine did But god If there was ever god Looked away And so this is my prayer. From the east there came no wise men, in this day in this age For they were in jails and prisons In cells and in graves And the gold was spent on guns And the frankincense smelt like rotten flesh And the myrrh was discarded, too little for too many. I pray that wisdom will prevail I pray that wisdom will prevail That the madness will end That wisdom will prevail But god For there never was god Stood still And so this is my prayer. My lost and damned prayer My howl to the blizzard This is an atheist's prayer. My prayer. The world's future. Amen. |
| I am Jubal the modder, Jubal the wayfarer, Jubal the admin. And I have come to you now, at the turning of the tide... | |
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| Jubal | Dec 31 2009, 04:22:29 PM Post #45 |
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The Most Beautiful Word And look! Here you are another night Stepping across dream-clouds Mind-warps, time-waves Until you're gone with the light. And hear! Sounds like your voice once more Speaking through thought-haze Singing with my song 'til it fades with the dawn. Looks like I've fallen to yearning Your smile and a long look of trust. I think that I'm finally learning The most beautiful word is us. So feel Feels like our embrace again Two people trying to be one Eyes like deep gem-wells Hugging tight in the rain. And think Hands twisting into finger-knots Glances quick and smiles slow The taste of something wonderful Wishing for time that time forgot. Looks like I've fallen to yearning Your smile and a long look of trust. I think that I'm finally learning The most beautiful word is us. The most beautiful word is us. |
| I am Jubal the modder, Jubal the wayfarer, Jubal the admin. And I have come to you now, at the turning of the tide... | |
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