FROM MARI

I know why the caged bird sings by Maya Angelou

A free bird leaps on the back
Of the wind and floats downstream 
Till the current ends and dips his wing 
In the orange suns rays
And dares to claim the sky.

But a BIRD that stalks down his narrow cage
Can seldom see through his bars of rage
His wings are clipped and his feet are tied
So he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings with a fearful trill
Of things unknown but longed for still
And his tune is heard on the distant hill for
The caged bird sings of freedom.

The free bird thinks of another breeze
And the trade winds soft through
The sighing trees
And the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright
Lawn and he names the sky his own.

But a caged BIRD stands on the grave of dreams
His shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
His wings are clipped and his feet are tied
So he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings with
A fearful trill of things unknown
But longed for still and his
Tune is heard on the distant hill
For the caged bird sings of freedom.

 

 

One of my favourites and very pertinent right now:

Leonard Cohen

ANTHEM

The birds they sang
at the break of day
Start again
I heard them say
Don't dwell on what
has passed away
or what is yet to be.


Ah the wars they will
be fought again
The holy dove
She will be caught again
bought and sold
and bought again
the dove is never free.


Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in.


We asked for signs
the signs were sent:
the birth betrayed
the marriage spent
Yeah the widowhood
of every government --
signs for all to see.


I can't run no more
with that lawless crowd
while the killers in high places
say their prayers out loud.
But they've summoned, they've summoned up
a thundercloud
and they're going to hear from me.


Ring the bells that still can ring ...


You can add up the parts
but you won't have the sum
You can strike up the march,
there is no drum
Every heart, every heart
to love will come
but like a refugee.


Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack, a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in.


Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack, a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in.
That's how the light gets in.
That's how the light gets in.

      

               "THE MEASURE OF A MAN"

 

Not - How did he die? But - How did he live?
Not - What did he gain? But - What did he give?

These are the things that measure the worth
Of a man as a man, regardless of birth.

Not - What was his station? But - had he a heart?
And - How did he play his God-given part?

Was he ever ready with a word of good cheer?
To bring back a smile, to banish a tear?

Not - What was his church? Not - What was his creed?
But - Had he befriended those really in need?

Not - What did the sketch in the newspaper say?
But - How many were sorry when he passed away?

These are the things that measure the worth
Of a man as a man, regardless of birth.

Author: Anonymous

Seggie. Rudyard Kiplings 'If'. Has got me through some tough times.

From Seggie:-

 

IF—BY RUDYARD KIPLING

If you can keep your head when all about you   

    Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,   If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,    But make allowance for their doubting too;   If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,    Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,    And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;       If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim;   If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster    And treat those two impostors just the same;   If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken    Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,    And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools:If you can make one heap of all your winnings    And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,And lose, and start again at your beginnings    And never breathe a word about your loss;If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew    To serve your turn long after they are gone,   And so hold on when there is nothing in you    Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,       Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,    If all men count with you, but none too much;If you can fill the unforgiving minute    With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,   Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,       And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!

Source: A Choice of Kipling's Verse (1943)

...........................

 Thank you Seggie. I can see why IF...would be of a help to many people.

 

 

 

 

  

 

I just love the poems from our very own member PIXAPD

FOR ME

I was standing in a crowd one day

And there was such a din,

Everyone was crying out -

'Away, and crucify him !'



I asked of one standing near

What means this their screaming ?

He told me that the one on trial

Was guilty of blasphemeing



How, I asked is this

What is it he has done ?

The other one replied;

Said that he was God's Son.



And as I then beheld this man

Who had been scourged and blamed

I could not tell just what it was

But, I felt so ashamed.



For I could see within his eyes

As he looked back at me,

One who was a loving friend

He was no enemy.



And on the hill called Calvary

Outside that city gate,

They nailed him to his heavy stake

Then they reviled with hate.



Now as I neared his dying form

I saw the blood-soaked ground

I cried, I fell down at his feet

My Saviour I had found.



For into his eyes again I'd looked

And this time I did see,

He had no need to say one word -

'Cause he was there For Me.

Thanks for starting this topic Fleur. People really do have nice hearts.

Everyone has shared so well, with hopefully many more to come.  

Getting excited?

of course you are.Dum dum de-dum.

When I was at primary school...there was a poetry reading competition..so chuffed to say that I won...the prize was a little story book...but to me it could have been an Oscar. That poem was and still is one of my favourites written by a very talented South Australian:

            

                ROMANCE

WHEN I was but thirteen or so

I went into a golden land,

Chimborazo, Cotopaxi

Took me by the hand.

 

My father died, my brother too,

They passed like fleeting dreams,

I stood where Popocatapetl

In the sunlight gleams.

 

I dimly heard the master's voice

And boys far-off at play,

Chimborazo, Cotopaxi

Had stolen me away.

 

I walked in a great golden dream

To and fro from school--

Shining Popocatapetl

The dusty streets did rule.

 

I walked home with a gold dark boy,

And never a word I'd say,

Chimborazo, Cotopaxi

Had taken my speech away:

 

I gazed entranced upon his face

Fairer than any flower--

O shining Popocatapetl

It was thy magic hour:

 

The houses, people, traffic seemed

Thin fading dreams by day,

Chimborazo, Cotopaxi

They had stolen my soul away!

                     W.J Turner

 

          

  

That was when my memory was sharp...now I would fail the test Robi lol!!

LET IT GO

Let it go,

Let it out,

Let it all unravel;

Let it free

And it will be

A path on which to travel.

 

Michael Leunig

 

Spirit and Life -

In the Rood of Yeshua

Who is my Saviour, mine

I understand His giving

Of the bread and wine.

For when they scourged His body

Pushed thorns into His head

He suffered this to show us

His body is our bread.

And when they peirced His body

Doth this not make you think?

By this His blood flowed freely

Is not His blood our drink?

Yeshua explained this to us

And to Israel who He shall save from strife

Yeshua said,"These words I've spoken,

are Spirit and they are Life."

- PIXAPD

Here's another Leunig for you Pete:

Ode to Her Majesty

I did but see her passing by, she passed me by quite fast,

I saw her passing by again when several years had passed.

And then at some much later stage she passed me by once more

And there were further passings-by and these I also saw.

I did but see her passing by, I don't know what it means;

Perhaps it's not my problem, but a problem of the Queen's.

They try to gag me at family gatherings because after a couple of reds, I recite my favourite poem:

                                         Sea Fever

                                      BY John Masefield

I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,

And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by;

And the wheel’s kick and the wind’s song and the white sail’s shaking,

And a grey mist on the sea’s face, and a grey dawn breaking, 

I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide

Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;

And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,

And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying. 

I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,

To the gull’s way and the whale’s way where the wind’s like a whetted knife;

And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,

And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick’s over.

  But I will not be silenced - are you listening Fleur?

OH NO !

 

Oh no, I'm left behind

I wish that I had not been blind

To what Christian people said,

"Believe on the Messiah and be not dead."



They are gone now to their Lord

Who came and 'caught' them in accord

With what the Bible has to say;

I disbelieved and so I stay.



YOU told me that, "There is no God"

And explained it with a nod,

When I asked YOU, "Is God dead?"

YOU told me, "Yes" from your head.

"There is no God" YOU did say

"When the world is in this way"

I believed YOU and now see

What YOUR wisdom has done to me.

Yeshua has come, returned again

He 'caught up" His Christians, it is plain.

And I am left alone with YOU;

Oh, please tell me what to do.



YOU say, "Do not believe this lie,

there is no more life after you die;

and Yeshua the Messiah is not true,

so just do what YOU tell me to.

Alright then, I will obey

What you say now sounds OK,

There is no Messiah, now or then

What was YOUR name? Oh yes, SATAN.

pixapd