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There are no extraordinary men... just extraordinary circumstances that ordinary men are forced to deal with.

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There are no extraordinary men...just extraordinary circumstances that ordinary men are forced to deal with.

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Ode

I

IMAGINATION--ne'er before content,
But aye ascending, restless in her pride
From all that martial feats could yield
To her desires, or to her hopes present--
Stooped to the Victory, on that Belgic field,
Achieved, this closing deed magnificent,
And with the embrace was satisfied.
--Fly, ministers of Fame,
With every help that ye from earth and heaven may claim!
Bear through the world these tidings of delight!
--Hours, Days, and Months, 'have' borne them in the sight
Of mortals, hurrying like a sudden shower
That landward stretches from the sea,
The morning's splendours to devour;
But this swift travel scorns the company
Of irksome change, or threats from saddening power.
--'The shock is given--the Adversaries bleed'--
'Lo, Justice triumphs! Earth is freed!'
Joyful annunciation!--it went forth--
It pierced the caverns of the sluggish North--
It found no barrier on the ridge
Of Andes--frozen gulphs became its bridge--
The vast Pacific gladdens with the freight--
Upon the Lakes of Asia 'tis bestowed--
The Arabian desert shapes a willing road
Across her burning breast,
For this refreshing incense from the West!--
--Where snakes and lions breed,
Where towns and cities thick as stars appear,
Wherever fruits are gathered, and where'er
The upturned soil receives the hopeful seed--
While the Sun rules, and cross the shades of night--
The unwearied arrow hath pursued its flight!
The eyes of good men thankfully give heed,
And in its sparkling progress read
Of virtue crowned with glory's deathless meed:
Tyrants exult to hear of kingdoms won,
And slaves are pleased to learn that mighty feats are done;
Even the proud Realm, from whose distracted borders
This messenger of good was launched in air,
France, humbled France, amid her wild disorders,
Feels, and hereafter shall the truth declare,
That she too lacks not reason to rejoice,
And utter England's name with sadly-plausive voice.

II

O genuine glory, pure renown!
And well might it beseem that mighty Town
Into whose bosom earth's best treasures flow,
To whom all persecuted men retreat;
If a new Temple lift her votive brow
High on the shore of silver Thames--to greet
The peaceful guest advancing from afar.
Bright be the Fabric, as a star
Fresh risen, and beautiful within!--there meet
Dependence infinite, proportion just;
A Pile that Grace approves, and Time can trust
With his most sacred wealth, heroic dust.

III

But if the valiant of this land
In reverential modesty demand,
That all observance, due to them, be paid
Where their serene progenitors are laid;
Kings, warriors, high-souled poets, saint-like sages,
England's illustrious sons of long, long ages;
Be it not unordained that solemn rites,
Within the circuit of those Gothic walls,
Shall be performed at pregnant intervals;
Commemoration holy that unites
The living generations with the dead;
By the deep soul-moving sense
Of religious eloquence,--
By visual pomp, and by the tie
Of sweet and threatening harmony;
Soft notes, awful as the omen
Of destructive tempests coming,
And escaping from that sadness
Into elevated gladness;
While the white-robed choir attendant,
Under mouldering banners pendant,
Provoke all potent symphonies to raise
Songs of victory and praise,
For them who bravely stood unhurt, or bled
With medicable wounds, or found their graves
Upon the battle field, or under ocean's waves;
Or were conducted home in single state,
And long procession--there to lie,
Where their sons' sons, and all posterity,
Unheard by them, their deeds shall celebrate!

IV

Nor will the God of peace and love
Such martial service disapprove.
He guides the Pestilence--the cloud
Of locusts travels on his breath;
The region that in hope was ploughed
His drought consumes, his mildew taints with death;
He springs the hushed Volcano's mine,
He puts the Earthquake on her still design,
Darkens the sun, hath bade the forest sink,
And, drinking towns and cities, still can drink
Cities and towns--'tis Thou--the work is Thine!--
The fierce Tornado sleeps within thy courts--
He hears the word--he flies--
And navies perish in their ports;
For Thou art angry with thine enemies!
For these, and mourning for our errors,
And sins, that point their terrors,
We bow our heads before Thee, and we laud
And magnify thy name, Almighty God!
But Man is thy most awful instrument,
In working out a pure intent;
Thou cloth'st the wicked in their dazzling mail,
And for thy righteous purpose they prevail;
Thine arm from peril guards the coasts
Of them who in thy laws delight:
Thy presence turns the scale of doubtful fight,
Tremendous God of battles, Lord of Hosts!

V

Forbear:--to Thee--
Father and Judge of all, with fervent tongue
But in a gentler strain
Of contemplation, by no sense of wrong,
(Too quick and keen) incited to disdain
Of pity pleading from the heart in vain--
TO THEE--TO THEE--
Just God of christianised Humanity
Shall praises be poured forth, and thanks ascend,
That thou hast brought our warfare to an end,
And that we need no second victory!
Blest, above measure blest,
If on thy love our Land her hopes shall rest,
And all the Nations labour to fulfil
Thy law, and live henceforth in peace, in pure good will.

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As Is Meant To Be Told

With a silenced mind,
Listen to them find...
Excuses to make for themselves.
And those who make excuses,
To abuse the truth.
Are liars.
With a quiet mind anyone can find,
Those who pretend.

There are ways to deal with people who pretend.
And there are many of them attempting to defend themselves,
With lies they tell on someone else.
Hoping the doing keeps them popular amongst those unknowing,
Them to be chronic liars prepared to always put on a show...
To protect their insecurities and victimizing those that don't know.

The affects of this are all around.
If one's eyes and ears are kept open.
And one's mouth is kept shut.
While listening to things being instantly made up.

Watch them mentally self destruct.

'Who? '

Those who lie and want you to believe them true.
While they continue to make things up,
As often as they do.
And those they've deceived will eventually awaken,
To disbelieve the doers of these misdeeds.
When the pieces are put together to reveal those faking.

There are ways to deal with people who pretend.
Hoping the doing keeps them popular amongst those unknowing,
Them to be chronic liars.
With a watching them mentally self destruct,
And those they've deceived will eventually awaken,
To disbelieve the doers of these misdeeds...
While listening to them talk about themselves too much,
With a passing of judgement and telling of lies on others.

'But...
How do we know them to do these things? '

Those who make excuses,
To abuse the truth...
Are liars.
And...
With a quiet mind anyone can find,
Those who pretend with a defending of themselves against...
Someone who is not around,
More familiar with the telling of truth as is meant to be told.

'Who do you think are those least likely to tell the truth? '

It is in the observation.
Who has difficulty accepting who they are?
Who uses their ethnicity as a fashion statement,
And not a possessed identity?
And who is quick to assess others like themselves,
With comments made that have no dignity?
And those who lie are always the ones self righteous,
Quick to use God as if God is not aware of false tongues.

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Forever Cemented

The removal and taking away,
Of one's experience...
May be successfully performed,
In a scientific clinic.
However...
Some may have those experiences,
Amnesia could not erase.

These experiences are deeply implanted.
Like the Earth spinning slowly,
In a protective Universe.

Some things people are forced to deal with.
And this enhancement is forever cemented,
To never be forgotten.
As if compassion has them knotted.
And a recollection is felt,
With every nuance of what has been inflicted.
Whether bitter or sweetened by the memory of it.

People prolong what they take for granted.
And for too long they can not see this is wrong.
Until a 'too late' comes!
To then find them and those times forgotten,
Like a Sunrise witnessed but soon gone.

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Sonnet- There Are Some Righteous Ones

There are goodmen who can't be bought with ease;
There are quite some who can't tell lies at all;
There are some souls who want just mental peace;
There are some ones who will not ever fall.

There are some men who labour hard and sweat;
There are some ones who get a paltry sum;
There are some souls who stay always in debt;
There are quite some who take whatev'r may come.

There are some men who trudge all through their life;
There are some ones who sacrifice their lives;
There are some souls who love God more in strife;
There are quite some who resist many wives.

There are some souls who gain heaven on earth;
There are ones who make earth heaven by birth.

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There Are No Returns

As children, we shared each other’s games,
and grew up thinking we would never change.
At eighteen duty called to go to a far off place,
we said we’d always wait for each other,
no matter how long, we would have to wait.
The year turned into five, before I came home.

Things had changed, someone else you had found,
while my life was moulded to, and I saw a different you.
The carefree life we both had,
disappeared as the years came round,
our goals were now different bound,
and too many things had passed before our eyes.

I smiled sweetly when I saw you;
your smile back was just as sweet.
He stood at your arm to let the world know,
you were spoken for, not free anymore.
I just nodded as I passed on by,
and you could not see the tears leak from my eyes.

War is not a beautiful thing,
with heroes in a Hollywood show.
It makes men age each day,
their eyes will testify, how I know.
The youthful zest no longer smiles,
only the old man’s sorrowing soul.

They come back a broken person,
whose lives have been altered so.
They come home only to find,
the old life has been robbed as well,
that old torches they used to carry,
are gone from them as well.

I moved on hoping never to return,
saying I’ll keep in touch, but will never do.
Like a nomad, I begin my endless trek,
as I want to get away from here and you.
More years pass on the way;
I find someone and settle down.

Then comes a letter to say you are free,
will I come and see,
but I look around at all I’ve got,
my life that on a solid rock stands,
but the calling is so great,
I have to go back to where I’ve been.

At the station, I see your face,
time has hurt you so,
worse that the war hurt me,
but I just had to know.
I smile, but it is only a courtesy call,
I’ve got a new life elsewhere.

We talk about the old times,
long before I went away.
You know it’s not the same between us,
that soon I’ll be on my way.
You’ve been hurt the way I was once,
but you also know, that I can’t stay.

The day goes on and we reminisce,
we smile and laugh about the days we miss.
Soon the train is in the station;
our hands linger to the touch.
I have a new life now; we will never be the same.

She stands there with our son,
with open beckoning arms;
we rush to meet each other,
our bodies held in an embrace.
She asks how things went;
I smile and simply say, there are no returns.

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There are more things...

There are more things in my head,
Than on heaven and Earth.
I just haven't found them.
Even though,
I dragged the corners of my mind.

© 2012

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There Are Walls

i just learned
that there are walls that want
to be gates

there are windows
that want to be skies and birds

there are birds that want
to become stars

and there are stars
that merely want to be themselves

just the glitter
for the night

then fade away
on the first glimpse of light

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There Are Days

There are days when everything
we touch crumbles within our hands.
These are the days when we wish
time would rush on by.
However, it never seems to go that way.

There are days when we feel
by just reaching out we could touch the moon.
On these days, we want
the hours to drag on by.
However, they seem to rush passed too swiftly on their way.

27 September 2007

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There Are Those Who Stimulate

There are those who stimulate,
Just by the ignorance of their agitation.
And others seeking attention,
To compensate for their lack of talent...
Will annoy until someone responds.

And still there are some,
Who hate themselves so much...
They seek forums,
To announce their agonies....
With a self infliction,
Too obvious to dismiss.

Even their cries for help,
Seem to irritate.

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There Are No Pre-requisites To Friendship

genuine friendship
is nothing but just presence
there are no per-requisites
no demands
no expectations just the
honesty of being myself
and being yourself
nothing much just the feeling
that i am one like you
too, in this, in that, that
we belong to the same house,
on the same journey
inside this ordinary boat
with us are paddles and
rigs admiring the same
orange sunset between
the shadows of the hills.

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There Are No Enemies

If we look at it from the standpoint of the soul
we are all interconnected even if we don't know.
There are no enemies on the outside
only enemies are in our mind.
All relationships are a reflection of our self
we should reflect and discover if nothing else.
Only one God so no room for evil's sin
we make evil in our minds which our own making.
Just look to nature that always goes on
the sun always rises at the break of dawn.

Written by Christina Sunrise on August 29,2012

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There Are Those Who Irritate

in the same manner
there are those who are not irritated
they know how to maintain
poise
despite the storm
to be sensible despite
the plagiarism
they become more of themselves
as others
go beyond their nature
they are silent when you speak
they remain silent
even if you are silent too
oh, they are just themselves
despite the
volcanic eruptions
oh, they remain calm
even if
all are screaming
running
even if the world is dead
they remain
growing like moss
like lichens
like cockroaches like flies.

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There Are People Around Me

There Are People Around Me
But I don't hear them
I just keep walking, Like no ones there,
There's music playing,
Inside me head
And I listen.
While I stare,
But I don't see.
I just keep listening
To the music peacefully,
There's no noise,
But the flowing notes,
Peacefully moving,
Together we roam.
The melody and I,
We walk hand in hand,
Floating together,
With no exact plan,
We just keep flying,
Beat by beat
Two,
But one together
We sing in harmony

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There Are People

There are people who are good
there are people who are bad
there are people who are rich
there are people who are poor
there are people who are happy
there are people who are sad
there are those who encourage
and those who discourage.
I’m a little bit of them,
though some may dispute that claim.
The fact that all of us
are just about the same.
Some might be a little more
of one thing than another
from the list above.
Somewhere along the line,
we all fall in a category
like it or not,
it is because we are
just human after all.

30 January 2008

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There Are Debts To Be Paid

There are debts to be paid
Which will never be paid-
Those I owe them to are gone
And in truth how could I ever repay
Were they still here?

You live and you owe-
You owe so much-
People have given you things
You can't pay them back-
You've hurt people whether you wanted to or not-
There are times you could have been there
And you were not-

You owe and you owe and you owe
And you die in debt also-
Because you never could be just right with all of the
And the ones you hurt without wanting to are gone-

It's a hard life on all continents
And it will be a hard death also.

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There Are Times

when you lose grip of
something poetic
when the moon is just a moon
when a bleeding heart does
not occupy any significance
when a vacant lot is just another empty space
you lose sight of the possibility
of someone coming to save you
someone that smiles though
you do not know who that person is
there are times when everything is bland
when a hamburger does not
satisfy hunger
when you lose sight of what once
was beautiful
when horses pass your way
and you are not moving
to feel the ride
when you just sit there and
do nothing
these are the times
when you begin to think
you realize
you are still alive.

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There Are Those Exceptions

Many have spent lifetimes,
Doing their best...
To manipulate the presence of truth.
And yet there is not one shred of proof,
That a doing of this has led them to success.
However...
There are those exceptions!
Millions of dollars are spent,
In the celebrating of holidays created...
To allow the threats of terrorists,
Opportunities to rest...
As everyone is welcomed to join the festivities.

'But...
Where are the terrorists? '

~Ssshhh.
They are no threat to us on holidays.
Or on weekends.
Just Monday through Friday.
See them checking their watches?
It is almost that time,
For them to begin their threats.~

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There Are Times

There are times
when life goes topsy-turvy.
There are times
when we are full of dismay.
There are times
when pebbles dropped in water
can be felt across the bay.
There are times
when life gets a little crazy
and we know not which way to turn.
There are times
when everything is rosy
and in everyone’s life, there is sunshine.
There are times
when you feel lazy
and want the world to roll on by.
There are times
your world is filled with laughter.
There are times
when you want to
just sit down and cry.
There is a time for everything
and it will happen when it wants to.
We can only live from day to day
and take these times when they happen.

11 August 2008

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There ARE Times...

There are many times I feel fully confused
And there are other times I feel completely amused
There are days I feel entirely alone
And there are feelings hidden that just can’t be shown
There is a moment that just feels like the end
By which not your mother can help neither can a friend
There are days that are just impossible to let go
Days that can disappear by just one blow
There are years that pass by so fast
Not attentive on how long you’ll truly last
There are seconds by which a person can attain
Not knowing if his actions will mislay or justly gain
There is always a time to try to forget all the bad
And start to remember all the great and exhilarating times you had.

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