Success soon palls. The joyous time is when the breeze first strikes your sails, and the waters rustle under your bows.
quote by Charles Buxton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Poet Tree
Rustle, little leaves above, rustle in the breeze...
Rustle, little leaves of love, rustle mid God's peace!
Rustle, every night and day, rustle every hour...
Rustle, rustle, come what may, rustle mid God's power!
Rustle, for then wise words are formed,
Great expectations made!
Through such as these, men's hearts are warmed
And children's prayers are prayed!
Rustle upon the Poet Tree,
Above the poets' ears,
So they may learn each melody,
These God-picked volunteers...
Rustle sweetly, and gently on,
Persist from age to age -
Let all God's poets write upon
Their separate nearby page...
Rustle until all humans die
And no more poets live!
Until no soul would question, 'Why? '
And there's no cause to give!
Rustle until God tells you stop,
'Dear friends, at last, be free...
'Tis time for you to fall, to drop...
Beneath the Poet Tree...
I've loved each poem, every one...
And Jesus loved them, too!
You've blessed the world! Your task is done!
Your rustle days are through...'
poem by Denis Martindale
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The Question Of The New
A new story, a new hero, a new case and study. Another course another action. Painting fate with words that can so easily taint. Praying and forever hoping for the greatness of the success of love. Sometimes it strikes when your at strongest only to tear you down. Sometimes it strikes you when your at your weakest to build you back up. strange is the path it takes. No set way, every time is different. And every time you expose yourself in someway. Open is the mind and heart, blinded by a fool whim. In these waters so deep can you swim?
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Joyous And Exhilarated By Factories
I am keen, exhilarated by commanders so joyous,
Transported by ecstasy, and honeymooned by success,
The extreme weather carries a piquancy much desired
For the human heart and lungs, the organs of ravishment.
Raw success is cunning, it is keen as I am,
I am fortunate to reacquire it, so reactants are joyous,
May the felicity and joy be cylinders of love,
To construct and fuel the factories of real snugness.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Thunderball
He always runs while others walk
He acts while other men just talk.
He looks at this world, and wants it all,
So he strikes, like thunderball.
He knows the meaning of success.
His needs are more, so he gives less.
They call him the winner who takes all.
And he strikes, like thunderball.
Any woman he wants, hell get.
He will break any heart without regret.
His days of asking are all gone.
His fight goes on and on and on.
But he thinks that the fight is worth it all.
So he strikes like thunderball
song performed by by Tom Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Name It
Breeze wooed and whispered
In the rustle
Of the ear-leaves
Of the tree:
“I love dear”
The tree in a mood,
Self forgetful,
Spoke to the breeze;
“I pine for you”
So, the breeze replied
“You are the tree pine”.
poem by Minnoor srinivasan
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The Willow Cries
The willow
stands silently
at the waters
edge.
Waiting for a
breeze
to gently
carress her hair
carrying it
to the wind.
Her eyes grow
misty
as clouds hover
the horizon.
begin to gather
rain.
As the moisture
starts to fall
she bows her
head.
poem by Heather Burns
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She Took The Wind From His Sails
Outer banks of North Carolina
Lies a sleepy harbor town
Generations of old sailors
Dropped their sails and settled down
Sam he is a young seafarer
Grandson of a sailmaker's daughter
Today he's gonna take her hand
Chorus:
Calm waters
Wish them well
His ship's come in
She's put the wind in his sails
Catherine is a canvas painter
Paints the sun and sand and sea
Lately she's been painting a portrait
Sammy is a dad to be
Chorus
January brought the fever
Sam was right there by her side
Doctor told him son I'm sorry
But Catherine needs your prayers tonight
Morning light brought Sam a daughter
Fever took his better half
Sam gave Catherine to the water
As he held their baby to his chest
Calm waters
Wished him well
His ship came in
But she took the wind from his sails
His ship came in
But she took the wind from his sails
song performed by by George Strait
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Defines Success
What is the journey to success?
Success is not gained by defeat
Success does not occur over night
Success can emerge at any age
Success is working to full potential
Success is courage
Success is lending a hand
Success is not listening to negativity
Success is being positive
Success is living your life instead of the life of others
Success is being proud
Success is overcoming obstacles
Success is striving
Success is listening to your heart
Most of all success is accepting
What you have accomplished
poem by Alisha Ricks
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Succes My World
When I think success
I see it comes
When i dream success
I see it comes
When i touch success
It fates away
Success success
My hope
I'll find success
Embrace success
When i hold success
I'll keep it save
When I have success
I'll share it
Success success
My world
I'll rule
Yes, I'll influence
Thought, Oh thought
My Success Success
I'll keep,
I see
Success a life
Success my hope
Success my world
poem by Fiefa Bruce
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Succes My World
When I think success
I see it comes
When i dream success
I see it comes
When i touch success
It fates away
Success success
My hope
I'll find success
Embrace success
When i hold success
I'll keep it save
When I have success
I'll share it
Success success
My world
I'll rule
Yes, I'll influence
Thought, Oh thought
My Success Success
I'll keep,
I see
Success a life
Success my hope
Success my world
poem by Shubham Kumar
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0018 Man Raking Leaves (re Jim Morrison lyric)
The sound of wooden rake scratching concrete.
walk nearer - rustle of dry leaves.
This, the beginning of a Japanese haiku
or maybe a Japanese film -
dry sound first, then rake, then leaves, then man -
that evokes autumn
too near the heart
to need a title
the sound stops. silence. man leans on rake.
then match strikes, there's almost yes an echo
from the dry leaves not yet fallen from the trees
in the forest all around.
then the first tickle in the nostrils
of burning leaves which
the two-year old scrunching through the trees
hand in hand with older sister
will remember all his life
like the silence between
two lines of a haiku or
the silence of the moment when the seasons turn.
and who can say
what the golden-orange-yellow-brown trees
slowly stripping in a rustle as of silken nightgown
to the tune of, more a whisper than a breeze -
what the trees feel
as the incense of their, their, burning leaves
steals like a last caress
for each such faithful
lover?
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Strange But True
Okay, let me say this quick - before I start 2 cry
Ure the only one that I gave it 2, the one I fantasised 4
And time away from u has taught me
What I should have known
That this hole Im trying 2 fill with another - yeah, its grown
And I got your package
But when I tried 2 write back I bailed
See, trying 2 express the future, sometimes language fails
And over this time Ive learned
My life force is increased by knowing u
Every door that closes, another one opens
Strange but true
Strange but true
No regrets because I forget the unfamiliar faces
Those petty lies and alibis, just golddiggas chasing
Dreams of sovereignty, they tried to come between u and me
A curse therein set forces a chain of events
That only freed me when I remembered
Where I was and who I am
The only prince that will ever rule this holy land
All understand and all standunder this affirmation now
By the power invested in me by god...
All negativity bows
Strange but true, lets see what u can do
U may have lost me, but I found myself
The ones who love me without condition - this is my wealth
And with these words I will win
Repeat them over and over again
All understand and all standunder this affirmation now
By the power invested in me by god...
All negativity bows
All negativity bows
All negativity bows
Strange but true, lets see what u can do
Strange but true, lets see what u can do
All negativity bows
(strange but true)
(strange but true)
Strange but true (true, true...)
All negativity bows
(strange but true, lets see what u can do)
All negativity bows
(all negativity bows)
Strange but true
Strange but true
(strange but true)
(strange but true)
Strange but true
song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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No end to success
Success is not the triumph over regress,
Success is the power to suppress.
Success is not the money or the fame,
Success is, knowing you are still the same.
Success is not the power or the pride.
Success is the knowing how to hide.
Success is not a gift or gain,
Success is accepting and believing in your name.
Success is not a point or goal to seek,
Success is, believing you have never reached the peak.
Success is
poem by Jeff Rushton
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Blanche
Breeze! brisk breeze! that movest with the morn!
Breeze! lithe breeze! that creepest through the corn!
Breeze! O breeze! that fannest the forlorn!
Oh linger by the lattice of sweet Blanche of mine!
Breeze! coy breeze! that loiterest for noon!
Breeze! true breeze! that hast a tryst with June!
Breeze! kind breeze! I beg of thee a boon!
Oh peep in through the lattice of poor Blanche of mine!
Breeze! fleet breeze! that goest with the day!
Breeze! dear breeze! that hastenest away!
Breeze! breeze! breeze! I beg of thee to stay,
And breathe upon the pillow of pale Blanche of mine!
Breeze! night-breeze! that wailest on the wold!
Breeze! lost breeze! that wanderest in the cold!
Breeze! dread breeze! oh flit not by the mould
Which shelters what is left me of lost Blanche of mine!
poem by Alfred Austin
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To A Common Prostitute
To a Common Prostitute
BE composed--be at ease with me--I am Walt Whitman, liberal and lusty
as Nature;
Not till the sun excludes you, do I exclude you;
Not till the waters refuse to glisten for you, and the leaves to
rustle for you, do my words refuse to glisten and rustle for
you.
My girl, I appoint with you an appointment--and I charge you that you
make preparation to be worthy to meet me,
And I charge you that you be patient and perfect till I come.
Till then, I salute you with a significant look, that you do not
forget me.
poem by Walt Whitman
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The Nurse's Watch
From 'The Boy's Wonderhorn'
The moon it shines,
My darling whines;
The clock strikes twelve:--God cheer
The sick both far and near.
God knoweth all;
Mousy nibbles in the wall;
The clock strikes one:--like day,
Dreams o'er thy pillow play.
The matin-bell
Wakes the nun in convent cell;
The clock strikes two:--they go
To choir in a row.
The wind it blows,
The cock he crows;
The clock strikes three:--the wagoner
In his straw bed begins to stir.
The steed he paws the floor,
Creaks the stable door;
The clock strikes four:--'tis plain
The coachman sifts his grain.
The swallow's laugh the still air shakes,
The sun awakes;
The clock strikes five:--the traveler must be gone,
He puts his stockings on.
The hen is clacking,
The ducks are quacking;
The clock strikes six:--awake, arise,
Thou lazy hag; come, ope thy eyes.
Quick to the baker's run;
The rolls are done;
The clock strikes seven:--
'Tis time the milk were in the oven.
Put in some butter, do,
And some fine sugar, too;
The clock strikes eight:--
Now bring my baby's porridge straight.
poem by Clemens Maria Brentano
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Prosperity Palls
PROSPERITY PALLS
The era of pleasure is over for ever,
prosperity palls, seldom fails to appal.
When seeking some sanity see we should sever
last links with societal sirens that call
after all with fast laughter, considering never
that Man’s many illusions to dust must soon fall,
as dispassionate Death’s thrall not even keen, clever,
can ever avert, all are measured withal.
Vain attempts to escape fate prove empty endeavour
for sooner or later all sleep in Time's shawl.
© Jonathan Robin 9 October 1978 revised 27 September 2008
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for previous version see below
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Prosperity Palls
The era of pleasure is over for ever,
prosperity palls where it does not appal.
When seeking some sanity see, we must sever
last links with Society ’s sirens that call
after all with fast laughter, considering never
that Man’s many illusions to dust must soon fall,
as dispassionate Death’s thrall not even the clever
can ever avert, for he measures us all, -
and attempts to escape him are empty endeavour
for sooner or later all sleep in his shawl!
9 October 1978
poem by Jonathan Robin
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What is Success?
Success is not merely becoming wealthy.
Success is not only working for remaining healthy.
Success is not going after fame and name.
Success is not living life for such mind game.
Success is not just taking career to the top.
Success is not staying in a bungalow at the hill top.
Success is working hard for your dreams you believe.
Success is perseverance and efforts till you achieve your deal.
Success is having consideration for everyone.
Success is a strong desire and to live to help each one.
Success is to follow the religion of humanity.
Success is to always remember all pervading divinity.
Success is to follow the principle, “Live and let others live.”
Success is to accept others as diversity of nature; beautiful and alive.
Success is working for happiness of the world, a dedication.
Success is to love everyone unconditionally without any expectation.
poem by Dr.nutan Pol
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The success
Success is
Not...a...
Satisfation of life...
Move to other work...
Want to success...!
Success is
Life sample win
At the time...
Born to death...
Wanted for success...
For life...
All life is not success
Success is not all life...
it is timing nature...
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Shadow of the Horse
In bright sun’s wash
Over concrete & stone
Outlined in strong contrast
The shadow appears
Before the white horse
Who bows its curved head
In acknowledgment.
The images stream-
And its swift appearance
Stays, as light & heat seem
To do, although, it’s been
Only a short while.
The folklore of archetypes
weaves tales
Of a soul longing to be seen.
“I see you & I love you, ”
The shadow tells the horse
Without uttering a sound.
The evidence is in the light. In
The arrest of time-
In the passing moment like
The crucial note in a song. The
Horse sees that its not alone.
The dream of the horse & the shadow
Is hard to let go of.
There is comfort in love that
Doesn’t talk back. A long walk
Down the bridle path releases
The need.
The sun fades & filters through
The leaves & the breeze...Yes,
The sun fades & filters through
The leaves & the breeze as
Autumn comes & the horse
Gives thanks by merely living
the seasons.
The shadow increases & decreases
At will. And the curvature of the earth
bows low with a simple nod.
poem by E.E. Green
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