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I painted one dining room red and I must say, the conversation became very heated in that room.

quote by Amanda Pays
Added by Lucian Velea
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Keep That Beat Just Heated

You keep that conga beat strickly in the rhythm.
You keep that conga beat heat, rhythmically.
And keep that beat just heated as it flows around the room.
And keep that beat just heated.
Keep it and just heated.
Keep it as it's needed.

You keep that conga beat heat, rhythmically.
And keep that beat just heated as it flows around the room.
And keep that beat just heated.
Keep it and just heated.
Keep it as it's needed to stir up a good mood.

Give me some cello,
With the flute and bassist playing.
You keep that conga beat heat,
Rhythmically.

Add some violins and French horns too.
With the build up of some trumpets,
And a sax player's groove.

You keep that conga beat strickly in the rhythm.
You keep that conga beat heat, rhythmically.
And keep that beat just heated as it flows around the room.
And keep that beat just heated.
Keep it and just heated.
Keep it as it's needed.

Give me some cello,
With the flute and bassist playing.
You keep that conga beat heat,
Rhythmically.
You keep that conga beat...
Strickly in the rhythm.
You keep that conga beat heat, rhythmically.

Give me some cello,
With the flute and bassist playing.
You keep that conga beat heat,
Rhythmically.
You keep that conga beat...
Strickly in the rhythm.
You keep that conga beat heat, rhythmically.

Give me some cello,
With the flute and bassist playing.
Add some violins and French horns too.
With the build up of some trumpets,
And a sax player's groove.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A Take on Red

Red for blood –
Pumping out a life;
Paling in a death;
Blushing in a feminine face –
Flushing out her puberty;
Stain a presage for the mother ready.

And red, a flag of hatred in the eye –
The brutal other side –
Blood-release of war;
The sundered heart!

But then the red of simple dress
To give a beauty all she needs –
And flaming hair
And flimsy lace of underwear
And passion in the wanton heart
And dreams of crimson stockinged legs apart –

The rawness in the fantasy that
Only red can be.

And I? To only seek for Autumn
Bleeding in her many hues
Of red and other sister colours –
Those of tiring summer;
The fall of evening chill,
To wake with mist of morn,
Until cerise of dawn
Presents another day.

Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010

[...] Read more

poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Paint It

I see a red door and I want it painted black
No colors anymore, I want them to turn black
I see the girls walk by dressed in their summer clothes
I have to turn my head until my darkness goes
I see a line of cars and they are painted black
With flowers and my love both never to come back
I see people turn their heads and quickly look away
Like a new born baby it just happens every day
I look inside myself and see my heart is black
I see my red door and its heading into black
Maybe then Ill fade away and not have to face the facts
Its not easy facing up when your whole world is black
I wanna see it painted painted, painted black, oh baby
I wanna see it painted painted, painted black, oh baby
No more will my green sea go turn a deeper blue
I could not foresee this thing happening to you
If I look hard enough into the setting sun
My love will laugh with me before the morning comes
I wanna see it painted, painted black, oh
Black as night, black as coal
I wanna see the sun blotted from the sky
Painted, painted, painted black oh baby
Painted painted, painted black

song performed by Vanessa Carlton
Added by Lucian Velea
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Red Hot

Verse 1:
Your flame is burning deep in my soul
Saying I was half now Im whole
I cant believe it (believe it)
I know you see it (see it)
I know your love would quench my desire
I know your love would light me on fire
I feel your heart burning, burning
Dont you know Im yearning, yearning
Chorus:
Red hot, red hot
Baby youre red hot, red hot
I need your love
Like a flame needs a fire
Red hot, red hot
Your love is red hot, red hot
Baby your heart fulfills my desire
Verse 2:
Oh baby youre just radiating to me
Your heart just burns right through me
Oh you can start me gleaming, gleaming
Feels just like Im dreaming, dreaming
Chorus
Red hot, red hot
Baby you are so (red hot) red hot
I need your love
Like a flame needs a fire
Red hot, red hot
Baby you are so...
Baby youre red hot, red hot (your love)
Baby your heart fulfills my desire
Red hot, red hot
Baby youre red hot, red hot
I need your love
I need your fire
(red hot) red hot
(red hot) red hot
Baby your heart fulfills my desire
(red hot, red hot)
Ooo baby youre (red hot) red hot
And you fulfill my desire
Dont you know youre so (red hot) red hot
(I need your love)
(need your fire)
Red hot!

song performed by Debbie Gibson
Added by Lucian Velea
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Red Rain

Red rain is coming down
Red rain
Red rain is pouring down
Pouring down all over me
I am standing up at the waters edge in my dream
I cannot make a single sound as you scream
It cant be that cold, the ground is still warm to touch
This place is so quiet, sensing that storm
Red rain is coming down
Red rain
Red rain is pouring down
Pouring down all over me
Well Ive seen them buried in a sheltered place in this town
They tell you that this rain can sting, and look down
There is no blood around see no sign of pain
Hay ay ay no pain
Seeing no red at all, see no rain
Red rain is coming down
Red rain
Red rain is pouring down
Pouring down all over me
Red rain-
Putting the pressure on much harder now
To return again and again
Just let the red rain splash you
Let the rain fall on your skin
I come to you defences down
With the trust of a child
Red rain is coming down
Red rain
Red rain is pouring down
Pouring down all over me
And I cant watch any more
No more denial
Its so hard to lay down in all of this
Red rain is coming down
Red rain is pouring down
Red rain is coming down all over me
I see it
Red rain is coming down
Red rain is pouring down
Red rain is coming down all over me
Im bathing in it
Red rain coming down
Red rain is coming down
Red rain is coming down all over me
Im begging you
Red rain coming down
Red rain coming down
Red rain coming down

[...] Read more

song performed by Peter Gabriel
Added by Lucian Velea
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The House Of Dust: Complete

I.

The sun goes down in a cold pale flare of light.
The trees grow dark: the shadows lean to the east:
And lights wink out through the windows, one by one.
A clamor of frosty sirens mourns at the night.
Pale slate-grey clouds whirl up from the sunken sun.

And the wandering one, the inquisitive dreamer of dreams,
The eternal asker of answers, stands in the street,
And lifts his palms for the first cold ghost of rain.
The purple lights leap down the hill before him.
The gorgeous night has begun again.

'I will ask them all, I will ask them all their dreams,
I will hold my light above them and seek their faces.
I will hear them whisper, invisible in their veins . . .'
The eternal asker of answers becomes as the darkness,
Or as a wind blown over a myriad forest,
Or as the numberless voices of long-drawn rains.

We hear him and take him among us, like a wind of music,
Like the ghost of a music we have somewhere heard;
We crowd through the streets in a dazzle of pallid lamplight,
We pour in a sinister wave, ascend a stair,
With laughter and cry, and word upon murmured word;
We flow, we descend, we turn . . . and the eternal dreamer
Moves among us like light, like evening air . . .

Good-night! Good-night! Good-night! We go our ways,
The rain runs over the pavement before our feet,
The cold rain falls, the rain sings.
We walk, we run, we ride. We turn our faces
To what the eternal evening brings.

Our hands are hot and raw with the stones we have laid,
We have built a tower of stone high into the sky,
We have built a city of towers.

Our hands are light, they are singing with emptiness.
Our souls are light; they have shaken a burden of hours . . .
What did we build it for? Was it all a dream? . . .
Ghostly above us in lamplight the towers gleam . . .
And after a while they will fall to dust and rain;
Or else we will tear them down with impatient hands;
And hew rock out of the earth, and build them again.

II.

[...] Read more

poem by Conrad Potter Aiken
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The Woman In Red

Am I seeing what I think I see
Or are my eyes playing tricks on me
cause what I see dont make no sense
Looking so good standing over that vent
Earth venus in broad daylight
The goddess of love is in my sight
Gotta catch a hold of myself
cause if I dont Ill have nothing left
Imagine youre sitting at ring side
And Im standing on the inside
And approaching is miss matador
Im on the charge for
The woman in red
The woman in red
Like fine wine shes going straight to my head
The woman in red (background-the woman in red)
The woman in red (see the woman in red)
Ill settle for nothing less than her instead
M-m-miss please pardon me
Now listen to me I can hardly speak
I havent been this much confused
Since daddy caught me trying on his shoes
Now, Im too old to be acting like this
But theres something about her I just cant resist
My heart is beating like a big bass drum
And my mind is saying that girls the one
Imagine youre sitting at ring side
And Im standing on the inside
And approaching is miss matador
Im on the charge for
The woman in red (background-the woman in red)
The woman in red (see the woman in red, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa)
Like fine wine shes going straight to my head
The woman in red (the woman in red)
The woman in red (see the woman in red)
Ill settle for nothing less than her instead
(repeat 1 time)
(background)
Pretty little woman in red
Pretty little woman in red
Pretty little wo
Pretty little wo
Pretty little
Pretty little woman in red
(repeat 1 time)
The woman in red
See the woman in red, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa
The woman in red
See the woman in red
The woman in red (backgrounds-the woman in red)

[...] Read more

song performed by Stevie Wonder
Added by Lucian Velea
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My Red Joystick

The first bite of the apple made eve smart
The second bite taught her how to break mens hearts
The third bite taught her how to strut her stuff
But she never got to the fourth bite
That says enough is enough
Enough is enough, baby, Ive had enough of you
You can keep your dresses, you can keep your jewels
You can keep the color tv, those soaps just make me sick
All Im asking you leave me is my little red joystick
My red joystick, my red joystick
All Im asking you leave me is my little red joystick
My red joystick, my red joystick
All Im asking you leave me is my little red joystick
Eve kissed able, thats how he got murdered by cain
Abraham gave up his son, to keep his wife away
And even the lord almighty
Speaking from the trenches to the pits
Spoke for all of mankind, when he said
Take the porsche, take the kids
Take the stocks, baby, take the rugs
Take those roses from my poor heart wilting
But, please, please, hey, please, leave me my red joystick
Leave me my red joystick, leave me my red joystick
Leave me my red joystick
Eve drank apple cider, eve brewed good apple wine
Eve cooked up stewed apples, knew how to have a good time
She came into the bedroom, raised her skirts up high
She said, if a little knowledge is a dangerous thing, baby
Give me a piece before I die
Hey, eve take a bite of my apple
I know you think youre pretty slick
The one thing I ask you to leave me is my red joystick
My red joystick, ooohhh, my red joystick
All Im asking you leave me is my little red joystick
My red joystick, baby, my red joystick
All Im asking you leave me is my little red joystick
My red joystick
Hey ..., my red joystick
Ooohhh, red joystick
Please, leave me my red joystick
... red joystick
Please, leave me my red joystick
My red joystick
...
(my red joystick, my red joystick)

song performed by Lou Reed
Added by Lucian Velea
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Red Rain

Can't you hear me calling your name, girl?
I'm standing, standing in the red, red rain
In the morning, standing in the red, red rain
Can't you hear me? can't you hear me calling your name, girl?
In the morning, when I'm standing in the red, red rain, girl
In the morning, I'm standing in the red, red rain
Can't you hear me? can't you hear me calling your name, girl?
In the morning, when I'm standing in the red, red rain, girl
You think not telling is the same as not lying, don't you?
Then I guess not feeling is the same as not crying to you
You think not telling is the same as not lying, don't you?
Then I guess not feeling is the same as not crying to you
In the red, in the rain, in the rain
In the red, in the red, in the rain, in the rain
In the red, in the red, in the rain, in the rain
In the red, in the red, in the rain, in the rain
If there is a lie, then there is a liar, too
And if there is a sin, then there is a sinner, too
And if there is a lie, then there is a liar, too
And if there is a sin, then there is a sinner, too
In the red, in the red, in the rain, in the rain
I'm in red, I'm in red, in the rain, in the rain
In the red, in the red, in the rain, in the rain
I'm in red, I'm in red, in the rain, in the rain
I'm in red, I'm in red, in the rain, in the rain
Can't you hear me? can't you hear me calling your name, girl?

song performed by White Stripes
Added by Lucian Velea
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Paint It Black

I see a red door and I want it painted black
No colors anymore I want them to turn black
I see the girls walk by dressed in their summer clothes
I have to turn my head until my darkness goes
I see a line of cars and theyre all painted black
With flowers and my love, both never to come back
I see people turn their heads and quickly look away
Like a newborn baby it just happens evryday
I look inside myself and see my heart is black
I see my red door and it has been painted black
Maybe then Ill fade away and not have to face the facts
Its not easy facing up when your whole world is black
No more will my green sea go turn a deeper blue
I could not forsee this thing happening to you
If I look hard enough into the setting sun
My love will laugh with me before the morning comes
I see a red door and I want it painted black
No colors anymore I want them to turn black
I see the girls walk by dressed in their summer clothes
I have to turn my head until my darkness goes
Hmm, hmm, hmm...
I wanna see it painted black, painted black
Black as night, black as coal
I wanna see the sun, blotted out from the sky
I wanna see it painted, painted, painted, painted black
Yeah

song performed by Face To Face
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Roses Are Red (Jessica)

Roses are red Violets are blue,
Honey is so sweet and so are you darling!

Roses are red Violets are blue,
You've made my dreams come true!

Roses are red Violets are blue,
I have my brown eyes glued on YOU!

Roses are red Violets are blue,
I feel like i have known you!

Roses are red Violets are blue,
You are so FINE that you give me the BLUES!

Roses are red Violets are blue,
Lord knows that im falling for you!

Roses are red Violets are blue,
I just want to Rock with you!

Roses are red Violets are blue,
These lips can't wait to be kissing you!

Roses are red Violets are blue,
I do anything to claim you!

Roses are red Violets are blue,
I bow down to you!

Roses are red Violets are blue,
I've never met anyone as HOT as you!

Roses are red Violets are blue,
never knew i would meet you!

Roses are red Violets are blue,
I'm going to bed would you like to come too!

Roses are red Violets are blue,
I rather spend my precious time with you!

Roses are red Violets are blue,
You are beautiful as sparkling DIAMOND!

Roses are red Violets are blue,
You have me speechless everytime i talk to you!

Roses are red Violets are blue,
May i have this dance with you (JESSICA)

[...] Read more

poem by Obi Onyenwe
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Nobodys Child

Painted lady, stop that closin in on me,
Painted lady, youre supposed to be a dream,
Painted lady, you better stay away from me.
Painted lady, why you loosinin my tie,
Painted lady, whats that twinkle in your eye,
Painted lady, you better stay away from me.
Painted lady, with your jewels and your beads,
Painted lady, dont you do these dirty deeds,
Painted lady, you better stay here with me.
Nobodys child til I saw the light of your smile.
Painted lady, nobodys child, you have set me free.
Nobodys child, you came in and stayed for a while.
Painted lady, nobodys child, you have set me free.

song performed by Electric Light Orchestra
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Song Of Theodolinda

I

Queen Theodolind has built
In the earth a furnace-bed:
There the Traitor Nail that spilt
Blood of the anointed Head,
Red of heat, resolves in shame:
White of heat, awakes to flame.
Beat, beat! white of heat,
Red of heat, beat, beat!

II

Mark the skeleton of fire
Lightening from its thunder-roof:
So comes this that saw expire
Him we love, for our behoof!
Red of heat, O white of heat,
This from off the Cross we greet.

III

Brown-cowled hammermen around
Nerve their naked arms to strike
Death with Resurrection crowned,
Each upon that cruel spike.
Red of heat the furnace leaps,
White of heat transfigured sleeps.

IV

Hard against the furnace core
Holds the Queen her streaming eyes:
Lo! that thing of piteous gore
In the lap of radiance lies,
Red of heat, as when He takes,
White of heat, whom earth forsakes.

V

Forth with it, and crushing ring
Iron hymns, for men to hear
Echoes of the deeds that sting
Earth into its graves, and fear!
Red of heat, He maketh thus,
White of heat, a crown of us.

VI

This that killed Thee, kissed Thee, Lord!

[...] Read more

poem by George Meredith
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The Bas Bleu: Or, Conversation. Addressed To Mrs. Vesey

VESEY, of Verse the judge and friend,
Awhile my idle strain attend:
Not with the days of early Greece,
I mean to ope my slender piece;
The rare Symposium to proclaim
Which crown'd th' Athenians' social name;
Or how Aspasia's parties shone,
The first Bas-bleu at Athens known;
Where SOCRATES unbending sat,
With ALCIBIADES in chat;
And PERICLES vouchsafed to mix
Taste, wit, and mirth, with politics.
Nor need I stop my tale to show,
At least to readers such as you,
How all that Rome esteem'd polite,
Supp'd with LUCULLUS every night;
LUCULLUS, who, from Pontus come,
Brought conquests, and brought cherries home.
Name but the suppers in th' Appollo,
What classic images will follow!
How wit flew round, while each might take
Conchylia from the Lucrine lake;
And Attic Salt, and Garum Sauce,
And Lettuce from the Isle of Cos;
The first and last from Greece transplanted,
Us'd here--because the rhyme I wanted:
How pheasant's heads, with cost collected,
And Phenicopters' stood neglected,
To laugh at SCIPIO's lucky hit,
POMPEY's bon-mot, or CAESAR's wit!
Intemperance, list'ning to the tale,
Forgot the Mullet growing stale;
And Admiration, balanc'd, hung
'Twixt PEACOCKS' brains, and TULLY's tongue.
I shall not stop to dwell on these,
But be as epic as I please,
And plunge at once in medias res.
To prove that privilege I plead,
I'll quote some Greek I cannot read;
Stunn'd by Authority you yield,
And I, not reason, keep the field.
Long was Society o'er-run
By Whist, that desolating Hun;
Long did Quadrille despotic sit,
That Vandal of colloquial wit;
And Conversation's setting light
Lay half-obscur'd in Gothic night.
At length the mental shades decline,
Colloquial wit begins to shine;
Genius prevails, and Conversation

[...] Read more

poem by Hannah More
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Give Your Heart To The Hawks

1 he apples hung until a wind at the equinox,

That heaped the beach with black weed, filled the dry grass

Under the old trees with rosy fruit.

In the morning Fayne Fraser gathered the sound ones into a

basket,

The bruised ones into a pan. One place they lay so thickly
She knelt to reach them.

Her husband's brother passing
Along the broken fence of the stubble-field,
His quick brown eyes took in one moving glance
A little gopher-snake at his feet flowing through the stubble
To gain the fence, and Fayne crouched after apples
With her mop of red hair like a glowing coal
Against the shadow in the garden. The small shapely reptile
Flowed into a thicket of dead thistle-stalks
Around a fence-post, but its tail was not hidden.
The young man drew it all out, and as the coil
Whipped over his wrist, smiled at it; he stepped carefully
Across the sag of the wire. When Fayne looked up
His hand was hidden; she looked over her shoulder
And twitched her sunburnt lips from small white teeth
To answer the spark of malice in his eyes, but turned
To the apples, intent again. Michael looked down
At her white neck, rarely touched by the sun,
But now the cinnabar-colored hair fell off from it;
And her shoulders in the light-blue shirt, and long legs like a boy's
Bare-ankled in blue-jean trousers, the country wear;
He stooped quietly and slipped the small cool snake
Up the blue-denim leg. Fayne screamed and writhed,
Clutching her thigh. 'Michael, you beast.' She stood up
And stroked her leg, with little sharp cries, the slender invader
Fell down her ankle.

Fayne snatched for it and missed;

Michael stood by rejoicing, his rather small

Finely cut features in a dance of delight;

Fayne with one sweep flung at his face

All the bruised and half-spoiled apples in the pan,

[...] Read more

poem by Robinson Jeffers
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Paint It Black

I see a red door and I want it painted black,
No colors anymore I want them to turn black.
I see the girls walk by dressed in their summer clothes,
I have to turn my head until my darkness goes.
I see a line of cars and they're all painted black,
With flowers and my love, both never to come back.
I see people turn their heads and quickly look away,
Like a new born baby it just happens ev'ry day.
I look inside myself and see my heart is black,
I see my red door and I want it painted black.
Maybe then I'll fade away and not have to face the facts,
It's not easy facing up when your whole world is black.
No more will my green sea go turn a deeper blue,
I could not forsee this thing happening to you.
If I look hard enough into the setting sun,
My love will laugh with me before the morning comes.
I see a red door and I want it painted black,
No colors anymore I want them to turn black.
I see the girls walk by dressed in their summer clothes,
I have to turn my head until my darkness goes.
I wanna see your face painted black, black as night.
Don't wanna see the sun flyin' high in the sky.
I wanna see it painted, painted, painted, painted black, yeah!

song performed by Deep Purple
Added by Lucian Velea
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Custer

BOOK FIRST.

I.

ALL valor died not on the plains of Troy.
Awake, my Muse, awake! be thine the joy
To sing of deeds as dauntless and as brave
As e'er lent luster to a warrior's grave.
Sing of that noble soldier, nobler man,
Dear to the heart of each American.
Sound forth his praise from sea to listening sea-
Greece her Achilles claimed, immortal Custer, we.

II.

Intrepid are earth's heroes now as when
The gods came down to measure strength with men.
Let danger threaten or let duty call,
And self surrenders to the needs of all;
Incurs vast perils, or, to save those dear,
Embraces death without one sigh or tear.
Life's martyrs still the endless drama play
Though no great Homer lives to chant their worth to-day.

III.

And if he chanted, who would list his songs,
So hurried now the world's gold-seeking throngs?
And yet shall silence mantle mighty deeds?
Awake, dear Muse, and sing though no ear heeds!
Extol the triumphs, and bemoan the end
Of that true hero, lover, son and friend
Whose faithful heart in his last choice was shown-
Death with the comrades dear, refusing flight alone.

IV.

He who was born for battle and for strife
Like some caged eagle frets in peaceful life;
So Custer fretted when detained afar
From scenes of stirring action and of war.
And as the captive eagle in delight,
When freedom offers, plumes himself for flight
And soars away to thunder clouds on high,
With palpitating wings and wild exultant cry,

V.

So lion-hearted Custer sprang to arms,
And gloried in the conflict's loud alarms.

[...] Read more

poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Margaret's Bridal Eve

I

The old grey mother she thrummed on her knee:
There is a rose that's ready;
And which of the handsome young men shall it be?
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.

My daughter, come hither, come hither to me:
There is a rose that's ready;
Come, point me your finger on him that you see:
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.

O mother, my mother, it never can be:
There is a rose that's ready;
For I shall bring shame on the man marries me:
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.

Now let your tongue be deep as the sea:
There is a rose that's ready;
And the man'll jump for you, right briskly will he:
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.

Tall Margaret wept bitterly:
There is a rose that's ready;
And as her parent bade did she:
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.

O the handsome young man dropped down on his knee:
There is a rose that's ready;
Pale Margaret gave him her hand, woe's me!
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.

II

O mother, my mother, this thing I must say:
There is a rose in the garden;
Ere he lies on the breast where that other lay:
And the bird sings over the roses.

Now, folly, my daughter, for men are men:
There is a rose in the garden;
You marry them blindfold, I tell you again:
And the bird sings over the roses.

O mother, but when he kisses me!
There is a rose in the garden;
My child, 'tis which shall sweetest be!
And the bird sings over the roses.

O mother, but when I awake in the morn!

[...] Read more

poem by George Meredith
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Red, White, Blue, Black and Naked

If you want to make a point,
highlight it in red;
even if you disappoint
you’ll inspire dread.

If you’ve haven’t much to say,
say it wearing white;
even those you lead astray
will declare you’re right.

If your mood is up and down,
you’ll be safe in blue;
adding to your smile a frown
proves your point of view.

If you’re out to win my heart,
please be wearing black;
I can never keep apart
from a black attack.

There’s another color yet,
skin when it is naked;
wearing only this when wet,
you don't need to fake it.

(Natalie Angier writes about the importance of the color red [“How Do We See Red? Count the Ways,” NYT, February 6, 2007] :
Valentine’s Day is nearly upon us, that sweet Hallmark holiday when you can have anything your heart desires, so long as it’s red. Red roses, red nighties, red shoes and red socks. Red Oreo filling, red bagels, red lox. As it happens, red is an exquisite ambassador for love, and in more ways than people may realize. Not only is red the color of the blood that flushes the face and swells the pelvis and that one swears one would spill to save the beloved’s prized hide. It is also a fine metaphoric mate for the complexity and contrariness of love. In red we see shades of life, death, fury, shame, courage, anguish, pride and the occasional overuse of exfoliants designed to combat signs of aging. Red is bright and bold and has a big lipsticked mouth, through which it happily speaks out of all sides at once. Yoo-hoo! yodels red, come close, have a look. Stop right there, red amends, one false move and you’re dead. Such visual semiotics are not limited to the human race. Red is the premier signaling color in the natural world, variously showcasing a fruitful bounty, warning of a fatal poison or boasting of a sturdy constitution and the genes to match. Red, in other words, is the poster child for the poster, for colors that have something important to say. “Our visual system was shaped by colors already in use among many plants and animals, and red in particular stands out against the green backdropp of nature, ” said Dr. Nicholas Humphrey, a philosopher at the London School of Economics and the author of “Seeing Red: A Study in Consciousness.” “If you want to make a point, you make it in red.”)

poem by Gershon Hepner
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The Hammers

I

Frindsbury, Kent, 1786

Bang!
Bang!
Tap!
Tap-a-tap! Rap!
All through the lead and silver Winter days,
All through the copper of Autumn hazes.
Tap to the red rising sun,
Tap to the purple setting sun.
Four years pass before the job is done.
Two thousand oak trees grown and felled,
Two thousand oaks from the hedgerows of the Weald,
Sussex had yielded two thousand oaks
With huge boles
Round which the tape rolls
Thirty mortal feet, say the village folks.
Two hundred loads of elm and Scottish fir;
Planking from Dantzig.
My! What timber goes into a ship!
Tap! Tap!
Two years they have seasoned her ribs on the ways,
Tapping, tapping.
You can hear, though there's nothing where you gaze.
Through the fog down the reaches of the river,
The tapping goes on like heart-beats in a fever.
The church-bells chime
Hours and hours,
Dropping days in showers.
Bang! Rap! Tap!
Go the hammers all the time.
They have planked up her timbers
And the nails are driven to the head;
They have decked her over,
And again, and again.
The shoring-up beams shudder at the strain.
Black and blue breeches,
Pigtails bound and shining:
Like ants crawling about,
The hull swarms with carpenters, running in and out.
Joiners, calkers,
And they are all terrible talkers.
Jem Wilson has been to sea and he tells some wonderful tales
Of whales, and spice islands,
And pirates off the Barbary coast.
He boasts magnificently, with his mouth full of nails.
Stephen Pibold has a tenor voice,
He shifts his quid of tobacco and sings:

[...] Read more

poem by Amy Lowell
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