The Black Mountain poet I like most is the early Creeley. Those early poems seem very lyrical and very traditional, with a lot of voice and character.
quote by Robert Morgan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Early In The Morning
Early in the morning and I cant get right
Had a little date with my baby last night
Now its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Well its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Now its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Went to all the places where we used to go
Went to your house but you dont live there no more
Now its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Well its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Went to your friends house but she was out
Knock on your fathers door and he began to shout get out there boy
Early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Went to doogie chain to get something to eat
Waiter looked at me and said you sure look beat
Now its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning (early in the morning)
Well its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Well its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Well its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Autobiography
My father made the walls resound,
He wore his collar the wrong way round.
When I was five the black dreamscame;
Nothing after was quite the same.
When I woke they did not care;
Nobody, nobody was there.
In my childhood trees were green
And there was plenty to be seen.
When my silent terror cried,
Nobody, nobody replied.
I got up; the chilly sun
Saw me walk away alone.
My mother wore a yellow dress;
Gentle, gently, gentleness.
The dark was talking to the dead;
The lamp was dark beside my bed.
Come back early or never come.
Come back early or never come.
Come back early or never come.
Come back early or never come.
Come back early or never come.
Come back early or never come.
Come back early or never come.
Come back early or never come.
poem by Louis Macneice
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Early to bed and early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise.
For my poems, written so early
For my poems, written so early
That I didn't even know I was a poet,
Hurled like drops from a fountain,
Like sparks from rockets,
That burst like tiny devils,
Into the sanctuary of sleep and incense,
For my poems about youth and death
-- For my unread poems!
Scattered in dusty bookstores,
Where no one ever buys them!
For my poems, like precious wines,
A time will come.
poem by Marina Ivanovna Tsvetaeva
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Early Morning
(pal waaktaar/ mags)
Early morning
Eight oclock precise
I see the lonely august sun arise
Say you know
You will
Move me like you do
Out on the fields...
Im waiting the whole night through
Early morning, early morning, yeah
Ran the whole way
Down to the tracks
Through the doorway, then a last look back
Say you know
You will
Save me like you do
Out on the fields...
Ive waited the whole night through
Early morning, early morning, yeah
I climbed all the stairways
To find the rooftop clear
Got the shotgun lying with me here
Say you know
You will
Move me like you do
Out on the fields...
You know how it feels, yeah
Early morning, early morning, yeah
Early morning
Eight oclock precise
song performed by by A-Ha
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Too Early Her Sunset
Oh, so much of drowning regrets!
When faced with too early a sunset
Time seems to have been cheating
And the Future is just disappearing.
Life becomes fast drifting sands
We fail to hold in our weakened hands
Dreams and plans like mists are set
To fade like fog in too early a sunset.
Too early to think of sleep and rest
Too early for having Death as guest
Why does it seem that Fate forgets
Not to come early, too early for sunset?
It pains and grieves my frail heart so
Words to comfort, how? I don't know.
She hangs on there till the End is met
No choice but to go, too early her sunset.
For Eden, my friend. (Brain cancer victim at 38.)
Cynthia Buhain-Baello
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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Predator Prey Early Morning
i could be an early bird today
that catches no worm
but i do not really mind
being early is enough
having to find something to eat
because there is nothing yet
to prey upon a chance
is another
at most
an early bird does its best
one time
after another
time
till it is finally
eaten
by another early predator
who makes
the same complaint
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Early Rising
early rising, fresh
sky night black, just brightening
to early-bird's joy.
but still tired, eyes
aching with sleep. I think I
will go back to bed.
poem by Steven Federle
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Early in the Spring
Early in the spring
Not a leaf has struck the ground
The swallow has yet to sing
And the plowmen are no where to be found
Early in the spring
The forest stands still
And no creature dare come out
Before the sun rises o’er the hill
Early in the spring
The valley holds the morning dew
And its serenity may be captured
By only a certain few
Early in the spring
The trees turn, brown to green
Many changes occur
But few can be seen
Early in the spring
Or in the latter of fall
No matter the change of season
The evergreen stands tall
poem by James Kent
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Conjuring
I am too early;
you have not met me yet.
I am isolated from my future
where you live.
I am too early;
you have not yet
learned to love me.
You don't know my smile;
I am not yet
even born
in your eyes;
but I still want you to love me
Is that silly?
Perhaps.
But, maybe it can be;
after all this is my dream.
I lie in bed
dreaming you now
bringing you here
into my bed
you don't have to exist
to be here
I can hear
you sigh.
You don't have to exist
except here
now
in my bed
that is enough..
I am not too early;
all I have to do
is turn out the lights
and get my position
right;
and I can conjure you up.
.
Too early?
No,
too late.
Don't want you
to have to
wait.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Early Christmas Morning
Listen to the children sing
Watch them dancing all around the Christmas tree
Waiting for the opening
Early Christmas morning
All around the world is sleeping
Little children there's no peeping
Wait and see what Santa's bringing
Early Christmas morning
Early Christmas morning
Icicles and breakfast cakes
Friends and family we will celebrate
Sounds that joy and laughter make
Early Christmas morning
All around and far off places
Angels waken smiling faces
Wrapping us with love and graces
Early Christmas morning
Early Christmas morning
song performed by by Cyndi Lauper from Merry Christmas... Have A Nice Life
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Black Mountain Blues
Old black mountain
Tried to spit in your face
Old black mountain
Tried to spit in your face
Babys grubbing whiskey
Oh shes practising ? ? ?
Old black mountain
Mean as they can be
Old black mountain
Mean as they can be
They use ground butter
Just to sweeten the tea
Had a girl in black mountain
Sweetest girl in town
Had a girl in black mountain
Sweetest girl in town
But she met a sweet black man
Then she threw me down
Well, old black mountain
Cant keep man in jail
Well, old black mountain
Cant keep man in jail
Sure to call him guilty
Judge will cry and bail
Im bound for black mountain
Me and my razor and my gun
Im bound for black mountain
Me and my razor and my gun
Gonna cut her if she stands there
And shoot her if she runs
song performed by by Nick Drake
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What I Know About My Dad Is Only A Few Things
What I know about my dad is only a few things,
eyes that radiates in seriousness,
he was sometimes strict but it was measured by love,
he was a god fearing man, but an Afrikaner
into the depths of his soul
and a teacher of history and Afrikaans
I remember his voice
reading the poems that he prepared
for post graduate studies in literature,
which made me get gooseflesh
from enjoyment
and so 'early autumn, '
'the headless horseman'
'Maria' and 'I will go to my father'
and many other poems
became to lie deep in my heart.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Too Early To Be Over
Music by richard marx
Lyrics by fee waybill
With another day another life slips away
And floats above the crowd
You can only stay ahead of time when time co-operates
Instead of heading south
Cards are dealt
You play what you hold
You cant tell me the storys been told
Its too early to be over
And its way past when
It could be starting again
Its too early to be over
Good hearted joe is the last one to know
Run down run around biting my tongue
Hardly my sad tale
But the rolling in and steppin out
Nothing but fun
I finally had to bail
Nothing worse than trying too hard
This aint this fools first walk in the park
Its too early to be over
I dont feel a thing from the bone to the skin
Its too early to be over
Good hearted joe is the last one to know
Somewhere out there it all evens out
So they would have you believe
But that dont get me
That wont set me free
Its too early to be over
And its way past when it could be starting over
Its too early to be over
Always the fave but I already gave
Its too early to be over
Dont feel a thing from the bone to the skin
Its too early to be over
Good hearted joe is the last one to know
song performed by by Richard Marx
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hefemally
The nabbing,
In his early 30s;
The fallout,
In her early 30s;
From a humble beginning to its present status,
But the ages of the African Leaders are common to us all!
And like the ace of the black hearts.
Hefemally is my name and,
My present age is part of my journey in Africa! !
For the muse of love is like the aroma of sweet wine;
And like the colours of the rainbow,
But, my identity is the ace of the black love.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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338
grief, sadness,
loneliness, devastation,
ruin
scene: a barren wasteland
time: the final hours of the night
character: Aldo alone
song: all by myself
recommendations: write more poems, stroll the park early morning and
take your xanor drugs. Do not forget to wear tight jeans.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Unexpected Elegy
The fading pall is lifting in the East, -
black bird of night’s departing epiderm, -
surprise – the tables turn – who makes a feast
upon the early bird? – The early worm...
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Early Morning Cold Taxi
3:36, its cold, I know Im growing old,
With lifes best side on the downward slope,
Its in my own hands, I know Ill cope,
My girls with me and all my friends can see.
Here I am again,
Early morning cold taxi.
Early morning cold taxi.
Done it before, do it again,
Know from experience its not in vain,
Shes the best Ive had, I cannot see, what someone else can do to me.
Its a long way home but loves so warm, youll see.
Here I am again,
Early morning cold taxi.
Early morning cold taxi.
Early morning cold taxi,
Each time I do it, I feel so down and out,
Early morning cold taxi,
though my mind thinks strange Ill keep on, no doubt.
3:36, its cold, I know Im growing old,
One day well be wed,
This I know for its what she said,
Then no more will my mind be uneasy.
Early morning cold taxi,
Each time I do it, I feel so down and out,
Early morning cold taxi,
though my mind thinks strange Ill keep on, no doubt.
3:36, its cold, I know Im growing old,
One day well be wed,
This I know for its what she said,
Then no more will my mind be uneasy.
Here I am again,
Early morning cold taxi.
Early morning cold taxi.
song performed by by Who
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Need For A New House....Or Home...
early morning
when the doors are still closed and the windows still tipsy
like the whole house
you fly away
the sun comes out with the clouds
early morning you fly away
away from it all
the clouds are floors and grasses
and you are a lonely bird among a flock of chairs
early morning you fly away
thinking about nothing
you fly away and you feel like a leaf inside
that gentle beast
it is a ride-awA Need For A New House....Or Home...ay
among the paradoxes of life
and its ironies
early morning there is this flight that takes you to a stop-over
of your life
no one knows that you are grieving
over a search for what you feel
the one you had which you lost
intentionally
among the flock of chairs landing early morning
on unstable floors
early morning you take a cab
you choose still
which house
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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In The Early Day (Roundel)
In the early day there is some beauty
while the breeze in grass and bracken plays,
up high a lark is soaring wild and free.
In the early day
there is something joyful and something gay
with a kind of grace in everything I see
while over the hill a rider gallops away
and it's as if something is calling me
to awaken you, to kiss you if I may,
together to find some serenity
in the early day.
poem by Gert Strydom
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