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Where a Roman Villa Stood, Above Freiburg

On alien ground, breathing an alien air,
A Roman stood, far from his ancient home,
And gazing, murmured,
'Ah, the hills are fair,
But not the hills of Rome!'

Descendant of a race to Romans-kin,
Where the old son of Empire stood, I stand.
The self-same rocks fold the same valley in,
Untouched of human hand.

Over another shines the self-same star,
Another heart with nameless longing fills,
Crying aloud, 'How beautiful they are,
But not our English hills!'

poem by Mary Elizabeth Coleridge
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Madman

Witnessed great suffering n’ grief
He stared at injustice in disbelief
He was an alien in a strange land
“He’s mad kill him” was demand

The alien was scourged, crucified
“It’s our great laws he has defied”
“Forgive them Father” he cried
After painful death was deified

With ignorant eyes they see
Myopic distortions of reality
Choose to act out abhorrently
With twisted minds in agony

If so, one day “Madman” returns
Pray…
He rectifies man’s wicked patterns

[...] Read more

poem by Ray Lucero
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To Youth

O YOUTH, sweet comrade Youth, wouldst thou be gone?
Long have we dwelt together, thou and I;
Together drunk of many an alien dawn,
And plucked the fruit of many an alien sky.

Ah, fickle friend, must I, who yesterday
Dreamed forwards to long, undimmed ecstasy,
Henceforward dream, because thou wilt not stay,
Backward to transient pleasure and to thee?

I give thee back thy false, ephemeral vow;
But, O beloved comrade, ere we part,
Upon my mournful eyelids and my brow
Kiss me who hold thine image in my heart.

poem by Sarojini Naidu
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The Trap

I am not well civilized, really alien here: trust me not.
I can understand the guns and the airplanes,
The other conveniences leave me cold.

'We must adjust our economics to the new abundance .
Of what? Toys: motors, music-boxes,
Paper, fine clothes, leisure, diversion.

I honestly believe (but really an alien here: trust me not)
Blind war, compared to this kind of life,
Has nobility, famine has dignity.

Be happy, adjust your economics to the new abundance;
One is neither saint nor devil, to wish
The intolerable nobler alternative.

poem by Robinson Jeffers
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Dead Rat

It wasnt me who shot the rat that is lying dead upon the floor,
It wasnt me who shot the cat who ate the rat
Lying dead upon the floor
It wasnt me who shot the dog who ate the cat woh ate the rat
Lying dead upon the floor
It wasnt me who shot the lion who ate the dog who ate the cat who ate the rat
Lying dead upon the floor.
It wasnt me who shot the alien who ate the lion who ate the dog who ate the cat who ate the rat
Lying dead upon the floor
That gun which shot the alien which ate the lion who ate the dog who ate tthe cat who ate the rat
Lying dead upon the floor
I tell you who it was who killed them all
Twas my friend named Paul

poem by Conor Ross
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Abraham

The rivulet-loving wanderer Abraham
Through waterless wastes tracing his fields of pasture
Led his Chaldean herds and fattening flocks
With the meandering art of wavering water
That seeks and finds, yet does not know its way.
He came, rested and prospered, and went on,
Scattering behind him little pastoral kingdoms,
And over each one its own particular sky,
Not the great rounded sky through which he journeyed,
That went with him but when he rested changed.
His mind was full of names
Learned from strange peoples speaking alien tongues,
And all that was theirs one day he would inherit.
He died content and full of years, though still
The Promise had not come, and left his bones,
Far from his father's house, in alien Canaan.

poem by Edwin Muir
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Moonrise

As day passes spent slowly swoony delirious
I commit myself to restorative divinity sleep.
Like an exploring embryonic deep-sea diver
merging within welcoming murky mystic deep.

My soul eightfold I ceremoniously merge
into kaleidoscopic cosmic expanding realities.
An alien world I enlightened astral explore
through saffron star dust distant galaxies.

Through misty moonrise colouring grey
cloud paint streaked monumental morn.
Vision astrological alines prophetic potent
alien messiah is star bright ritually born.

Diverse vegetation stretching straining upwards
aspires immersion layered Siddhartha sky.
Undulating in shadows, unenlightened call sorcery dim,
flexing rhythmic dance, energy pure galactic hymn.

[...] Read more

poem by Terence George Craddock
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Rememory

Naught ever hath thoughts of these to occur
Whilst in bureau of yours I was brought
to read and spoke of alien core
of script, symbols I merely sought

Know Naught what reason why things were done
with alien core scripts in oratorical
in flow gone with, I, for gears to keep in run
Anoints with adducted piece in musical

More than three yet less than five
enumerate the one as my foe
the other gloomy as in archive
numerical representation's low

still the other who yell in upset
reason by real essence was in point
when written expressionism, none she get
disgrace and regret all was joint

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poem by Ellirie Aviles
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Fuchsia Hedges In Connacht

I THINK some saint of Eirinn wandering far
Found you and brought you here Demoiselles!
For so I greet you in this alien air!

And like those maidens who were only known
In their own land as daughters of the King,
Children of Charlemagne
You have, by following that pilgrim-saint,
Become high vot’resses
You have made your palace beauty dedicate,
And your pomp serviceable:
You stand beside our folds!

I think you came from some old Roman land
Most alien, but most Catholic are you:
Your purple is the purple that enfolds,
In Passion Week, the Shrine,
Your scarlet is the scarlet of the wounds:
You bring before our walls, before our doors
Lamps of the Sanctuary;

[...] Read more

poem by Padraic Colum
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Can't Be Indifferent

Honest people can’t be indifferent
To the satiation in Great Britain.
I was just smitten
By the news in the net.
The jet of vandalism has met with …
Was it a debt, which was kept….?
Can’t say where and in what,
But …some people forgot:
Democracy of our society
Looks like who is more mighty.
Alien war. Is it really an alien?
The human beings are mammalian.
It could be better if they were herbivores.
I think we could have less worries.
I can’t say I was surprised,
I was just shocked.
The door to democracy is locked.
Where is the truth?
Where is the lie?
Is it better to live or die?

[...] Read more

poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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