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Vision Of Columbus - Book 7

Hail sacred Peace, who claim'st thy bright abode,
Mid circling saints that grace the throne of God.
Before his arm, around the shapeless earth,
Stretch'd the wide heavens and gave to nature birth;
Ere morning stars his glowing chambers hung,
Or songs of gladness woke an angel's tongue,
Veil'd in the brightness of the Almighty's mind,
In blest repose thy placid form reclined;
Borne through the heavens with his creating voice,
Thy presence bade the unfolding worlds rejoice,
Gave to seraphic harps their sounding lays,
Their joys to angels, and to men their praise.
From scenes of blood, these beauteous shores that stain,
From gasping friends that press the sanguine plain,
From fields, long taught in vain thy flight to mourn,
I rise, delightful Power, and greet thy glad return.
Too long the groans of death, and battle's bray
Have rung discordant through the unpleasing lay:
Let pity's tear its balmy fragrance shed,
O'er heroes' wounds and patriot warriors dead;

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poem by Joel Barlow
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The Columbiad: Book VIII

The Argument

Hymn to Peace. Eulogy on the heroes slain in the war; in which the Author finds occasion to mention his Brother. Address to the patriots who have survived the conflict; exhorting them to preserve liberty they have established. The danger of losing it by inattention illustrated in the rape of the Golden Fleece. Freedom succeeding to Despotism in the moral world, like Order succeeding to Chaos in the physical world. Atlas, the guardian Genius of Africa, denounces to Hesper the crimes of his people in the slavery of the Afripans. The Author addresses his countrymen on that subject, and on the principles of their government.

Hesper, recurring to his object of showing Columbus the importance of his discoveries, reverses the order of time, and exhibits the continent again in its savage state. He then displays the progress of arts in America. Fur-trade. Fisheries. Productions. Commerce. Education. Philosophical discoveries. Painting. Poetry.

Hail, holy Peace, from thy sublime abode
Mid circling saints that grace the throne of God!
Before his arm around our embryon earth
Stretch'd the dim void, and gave to nature birth.
Ere morning stars his glowing chambers hung,
Or songs of gladness woke an angel's tongue,
Veil'd in the splendors of his beamful mind,
In blest repose thy placid form reclined,
Lived in his life, his inward sapience caught,
And traced and toned his universe of thought.
Borne thro the expanse with his creating voice
Thy presence bade the unfolding worlds rejoice,

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poem by Joel Barlow
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Black Paint

Who daubed black paint
upon this canvass?
Come out and stand before us.
We shall interrogate you,
stand and admit your crime!
This canvass, once so clean,
is tarnished by your hand.
Do you claim freedom of expression?
This is no monument to art?
I have a theory, be it good or bad
it's just a crazy artist who got mad.

poem by Ruth Walters
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Silence Perceiving

If silence were a canvass,
the emptiness it holds is the impression,
The voices on the universe,
is the artist's hands removing it's innocence.

I am the passer-by,
she is the stranger's eye.
I adore the beauty of it's impression,
looking through her eyes of isolation.

If silence were a canvass,
If were an eye of a stranger's,
If the world is the place,
let silence be the painter.

In silence,
In silence.

poem by Krispian Vilipi
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Canvass-1

CANVASS—1

I like red colour always

Like ten horses who drags

The chariot of sun

Your fingertips enameled

With red nail-polish

The under-water plants

With blackish red leaves- akin to blood

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poem by Rajkumar Mukherjee
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To The Hand Painter Who Goes Offline When I Go Online

i lied
when i said i like your painting
it is a pity
no one
buys it.

the truth is
what i saw in that canvass
was a man deprived of happiness
craving for
sex
but cannot simply accept
that his body
needs it

warmth is not all jacket
it is better
done with skin
to skin
inside a room where you are naked

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poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Saltimbanque

She is under the canvass canopy
big top spotlit starlet she
disco ball dew bed sequined
spinning water for wearing

rays of rental borrowed beaming
rays of rental liberate lending

She, Promethean Princess
my souvenir showgirl

Slinky shining offering
lioness princess limber lining
She maneuvers mirror ball bouncing
balance-beam tumble tossing

juggling three-sixties
acrobat arching
form fluidic fantastic finessing

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poem by Randy Resh
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Damaged Love

Thou innocence-primed beauty
Thou dainty svelte
Emotion-ripping
Like the sun’s silhouette
Painted on canvass of the horizon:
Almond-eyed woman
Just like a diamond
Lyrics of the lyres of yesterday
Thou rippling voice
On whose crest
Memory potsherds
Are borne to berth
On the shores of this heart

Frenzied Suitors,
Soil your hands in every toil
Till until evening!
Though on your laps
She lays no love
Pay the dowry of a thousand foreskins,

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poem by Chukwuemeka Ogbu
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A Tingled Nation

We are a nation too gullible to suspect,
Deceived and tingled, time and again.
Experience imparts us no wisdom,
When we stumble, stones open not the eyes.

When the politicians approach
To canvass us to have the last chance,
To serve the problems-prone nation,
We cast ballots in favour of them;
Then they fade away from the scene,
The commodities disappear too from the market,
And we alone have to fight against the odds.

Prices have broken our necks,
The burden of loan has been laden on our backs,
We walk but with the bodies bent.

We make long queues in the sweltering hotness,
Often rip into rags the already tattered shirts,
When we fight for flour in front of the stores,

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poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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Surfs Up

A diamond necklace played the pawn
Hand in hand some drummed along, oh
To a handsome man and baton
A blind class aristocracy
Back through the opera glass you see
The pit and the pendulum drawn
Columnated ruins domino
Canvass the town and brush the backdrop
Are you sleeping?
Hung velvet overtaken me
Dim chandelier awaken me
To a song dissolved in the dawn
The music hall a costly bow
The music all is lost for now
To a muted trumperter swan
Columnated ruins domino
Canvass the town and brush the backdrop
Are you sleeping, brother john?
Dove nested towers the hour was
Strike the street quicksilver moon

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song performed by Beach Boys
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