
Meditation
Thin cloud. Light rain.
Far cell. Closed to noon.
Sit. Look. Green moss
Becomes one with your clothes.
poem by Wang Wei

Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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In Thin Air
On the last time youve got your new parachutes, or a new
bike or new clothes or something. Sometimes you got
something new you just, you cant wait to... to use it.
So were ... are gonna try a couple... At least one new song.
Yeh, we cant wait to try it out, so. Another for you.
There's a light, when my baby's in my arms
There's a light, when the window shades are drawn
Hesitate when I feel I may do harm to her
Wash it off cause this feeling we can share
And I know she's reached my heart in thin air.
Byzantine is reflected in our pond
There's a cloud, but the water remains calm
Reaching in the suns fingers clutch the dawn to pass
Even out, it's a precious thing to bear
And I know she's reached my heart in thin air
Yes, I know she's reached my heart in thin air
It's not in my past to presume
Love can keep on moving in both directions
How to be happy and true
Is the quest we're taking on together
Take it on, on, on, on, on
Take it on, on, on, on, on...
There's a light when my baby's in my arms
And I know she's reached my heart in thin air
And I know she's reached my heart in thin air
And I know she's reached my heart in thin air
Yes, I know she's reached my heart
song performed by by Pearl Jam

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet: The Cloud
Ye behold me, roaming in the blue sky!
In numerous colors and shapes awhile;
Driven by wind-power, The Cloud am I!
Floating like fleeces for many a mile.
The Rain, I bring to the thirsting earth-ball,
Heralded by peels of thunder and light;
I’m the cynosure of the skyline stall!
The stars and moon dread me during the night.
A pygmy cloud suffices moon to hide;
Sometimes, I block the sun too at noon-time;
Like skied a lion, I roar and I chide,
Bringing thunder-squalls, rain-storms, gales sometime.
I am the Cloud! If not for me the sky
Would be an artless blank page for the eye.
poem by John Celes

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The moss that loves the stone
It is the moss that loves the stone
Most. No matter what or when, the
Moss somehow manages to stay
Even without a why, they say.
But the moss keeps on sticking
To the body of the stone that
Keeps its nonminding stiffness.
It is cold, it is hard, it is unfeeling
At all. It is the moss that keeps its
Love. It sticks with it, rain or shine.
It rolls with it. It stays with it even
In the desert, even it if means its
Own death. It is the moss that sticks
To the stone. It is its true lover.
In the river, the water has ordered
The moss to leave. It ordered the stone
To crush it. The moss cannot be
Removed. It covered the stone.
It is loving it whole.The stone has
Become the moss, and the stone
Is gone.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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To Green
Oh! my green; Oh! my green
Where are you? Where can be seen?
Up above my chin
You are so thin;
I held you,
Saw you on tiny drops
Shining and shining
After shower found you smiling.
Where are you - going thin and thin
Oh! my green, Oh! my green.
Tempest came;
Came wearing wealthy jackets
Laid the traps showing lollypops.
It took my hands charmed on me
Studded with rubies (like) to fake me
Than I scramble and long for you
Repent my sin
Oh! my green, Oh! my green.
poem by Hrushikesha Mohanty

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Like The Rain
I never liked the rain until I walked through it with you
Every thunder cloud that came was one more I might not get through
On the darkest day theres always light and now I see it too
But I never liked the rain until I walked through it with you
I hear it falling in the night and filling up my mind
All the heavens rivers come to light and I see it all unwind
I hear it talking through the trees and on the window pane
And when I hear it I just cant believe I never liked the rain
Like the rain I have fallen for you and I know just why you
Liked the rain always calling for you Im falling for you now
Just like the rain
When the cloud is rolling over thunder striking me
Its as bright as lightning and I wonder why I couldnt see
That its always good and when the flood is gone we still remain
Guess Ive known all along I just belong here with you falling
Like the rain I have fallen for you and I know just why you
Liked the rain always calling for you, Im falling for you now
Just like the rain I have fallen for you
Im falling for you know just like the rain
And when the night falls on our better days
And were looking to the sky
For the winds to take us high above the plains
I know that well find better ways to look into the eye
Of the storms that will be calling
Forever well be falling
Like the rain I have fallen for you, and I know just why you
Like the rain always calling for you, Im falling for you now just
Like the rain I have fallen for you and I know just why you
Like the rain always calling for you, Im falling for you now just
Like the rain I have fallen for you and I know just why you
Like the rain always calling for you, Im falling for you now just
Like the rain
Like the rain
Like the rain
Like the rain
Like the rain
Like the rain
song performed by by Clint Black

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Winter Has Turned In Japan
Closet/beginning to feel winter clothes heavy
Train/went out to find out spring
Lake/some boats floating empty
Jizo Statue/covered with moss in vividly deep green
Roofs/in the morning light
Benches/people lunching
Cafe/sunset seen between the blinds
Stationary/my niece starting elementary
Frog/as green as cabbage
Station/an elder lady in a baby pink dress
Sofa/kitty yawning on my chest with me
Boyfriend/here to amend over the fight last night
The day light has begun to give off something new.
The Simplicity Of Thoughts
thoughts are simple
i see them without color
we dress thoughts with words
so the other person we love can see
we add a little touch of the hand
so the other can feel that she is not lonely
that i am can also feel
that i am not alone
but whether we are here or not
lonely or otherwise
thoughts still roam this world
looking for a medium
the tree, the cloud, the moss and the rock
it is my theory have thoughts
the rock is numb the cloud is lifeless
the tree is deeply rooted to the earth
the moss too green sticking to a rock
remembering the rivers that were with it
for centuries, they get tired
and they do not believe in words anymore
too many lies
and verbosity
we are the only ones who still have faith
and too foolish.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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We Go Out From Our Closed Doors
we go out from our closed doors
we watch
from their windows
not just a dropp of rain
a frozen fern
a haggard stone
a cloud of doubt
an iron curtain
a broken tendon
a very thin man
a hard pair of gloves
we shall see birds of the same feathers
men of character
women of passion
flowing rivers
wide mouth of the seas
we shall see a choir of angels
we shall see the face of God
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Pink Clouds Never Rain
I have never see a pink cloud rain before.
I have only seen a magenta bolt of lightening try to strike my heart, and
Aqua tears trickling from my dazzled misty eyes, down my
Flushed and lonesome cheek, though
I have never see a pink cloud rain before.
I have never seen a pink cloud rain before.
I have seen spotted purple snakes crawling up my bedroom walls, and
Transparent bubbles filled with dreams floating before my very eyes, though,
I have never seen a pink cloud rain before.
I have never seen a pink cloud rain before, though
I have seen a reddish sun cast shadows down upon a tortuous, rippling river;
I have seen tears cascading down a sloping hill, and
Gulls flapping their gentle, feathered wings atop some cragged cliffs, although
I have never seen a pink cloud rain before.
I have never seen a pink cloud rain before, although
I have heard eerie and commanding thoughts and voices
That no one else could hear.
I have had disturbing, stabbing thoughts that have injured me inside, though
I have never seen a pink cloud rain before.
I have never seen a pink cloud rain before, although
I have slid down an icy mountainside on a very sunny night.
I have wept a sea of deep blue and purple tears, though
I have never seen a pink cloud rain before.
I have never heard thunder clap behind a rosy cloud, or seen
Tears fall from heaven or have heard angels singing.
I have had morbid thoughts of loss, death and suicide,
While thunder clapped, and
These pink clouds could not rain.
Perhaps someday I shall see a pink cloud rain upon a
Magnificent world, which I have created for myself,
Where tall green and golden reeds are surrounded by swirling water pools, and
A hallucinogenic sun sets behind high and mighty mountains-
And there, people would be trustworthy and true to heart.
No, I have never seen a pink cloud rain before, although,
I have seen almost everything there is to see-
Some good sights and some bad-
I have heard some screaming voices echo in my mind, although,
Some quiet ones as well.
I have seen some orange and, pinkish sunsets, and mirages in
The fortress of my own mind, however-
I have never seen a pink cloud rain before, and
I have never seen a pink cloud weep before….
Claudia Krizay
poem by Claudia Krizay

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No More Rain (In This Cloud)
[Intro]
No more rain in this cloud
No more rain in this cloud
[1] - My sunshine has come
And I'm all cried out
And there's no more rain in this cloud
My sunshine has come
And I'm all cried out
And there's no more rain in this cloud
There's no hiding place
When someone has hurt you
It's written on your face
song performed by by Angie Stone from Black Diamond

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Life of a Cloud
Warming thermals whisper as they rise,
To tell us they are soon to bring to view
In cooler air aloft before your eyes:
A gentle wisp to counterpoint the blue.
Powder puffs emerge to grant her grace
That further bloom as would for stately tree, and
Yield a sight that calls for our embrace:
Another cloud anew above the lea.
Cruising forth, she yearns for ageless life.
O how her hopes will soon be dashed in vain,
For up there in the cold she courts her strife,
To fade away as drops of closing rain.
Scant and lacy speak her living span,
And fair among us could be brought to mourn,
But she was there to populate her clan:
From fallen tears, new daughters will be born.
Copyright © Mark R slaughter 2010
A cloudy sky
sky cloud sky cloud sky cloud sky
sky cloud sky cloud sky cloud sky
sky cloud sky cloud sky cloud sky
sky cloud sky cloud sky cloud sky
sky cloud sky cloud sky cloud sky
sky cloud sky cloud sky cloud sky
sky cloud sky cloud sky cloud sky
sky cloud sky cloud sky cloud sky
poem by Mark R Slaughter

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Your Cloud
where the river cross
crosses the lake
where the words
jump off my pen
and into your pages
do you think
just like that
you can divide
this you as yours
me as mine to
before we were us
if the rain has to separate
from itself
does it say "pick out your cloud?"
pick out your cloud
if there is
a horizontal line
that runs from the map
off your body
straight through the land
shooting up
right through my heart
will this horizontal line
when asked
know how to find
where you end
where i begin
"pick out your cloud"
how light can play
and form a ring of rain
that can change bows into arrows
(i found a thrill)
who we were isn't lost
before we were us
indigo in his own
blue always knew this
if the rain
has to separate
from itself
does it say pick out your cloud
song performed by by Tori Amos from Scarlet's Walk

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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After Rain
The rain of a night and a day and a night
Stops at the light
Of this pale choked day. The peering sun
Sees what has been done.
The road under the trees has a border new
of purple hue
Inside the border of bright thin grass:
For all that has
Been left by November of leaves is torn
From hazel and thorn
And the greater trees. Throughout the copse
No dead leaf drops
On grey grass, green moss, burnt-orange fern,
At the wind's return:
The leaflets out of the ash-tree shed
Are thinly spread
In the road, like little black fish, inlaid,
As if they played.
What hangs from the myriad branches down there
So hard and bare
Is twelve yellow apples lovely to see
On one crab-tree.
And on each twig of every tree in the dell
Uncountable
Crystals both dark and bright of the the rain
That begins again.
poem by Edward Thomas

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The Cranes
The western wind has blown but a few days;
Yet the first leaf already flies from the bough.
On the drying paths I walk in my thin shoes;
In the first cold I have donned my quilted coat.
Through shallow ditches the floods are clearing away;
Through sparse bamboo trickles a slanting light.
In the early dusk, down an alley of green moss,
The garden-boy is leading the cranes home.
Handsworth Wood
Have ever you seen
On Halloween,
The cloud that covers the trees so green?
The shroud that covers the last of lovers
The shifting mist of the in-between?
I’ve stood, I’ve stood,
By Handsworth Wood,
I’ve stood as long as I thought I could;
All Hallow’s Eve is the night I grieve
My Genevieve of the purple hood.
She slipped between
The trees so green,
She slipped from me one Halloween;
The cloud had glimmered, the evening shimmered
But she was never to more be seen.
And since that cloud
Became a shroud,
I’ve not forgotten the words I vowed;
My patience burns for the cloud’s return
To help discern what I might have been.
The day she left
I held my breath,
Her sleight of hand was so very deft;
But Genevieve, I still believe
You’ll wander out on some Hallow’s Eve.
I wait in vain,
There’s only rain,
The rain and part of the cloud remain;
But Genevieve I’ve not perceived
Since she went tripping in World’s End Lane.
World End’s Land
In Autumn rain,
There’s nothing left of my lost refrain;
For Handsworth Wood is a neighborhood
Where trees are held in a great disdain.
2 July 1977
poem by David Lewis Paget

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cell Phone Mania
Cell phones to the right,
Cell phones to the left,
Cell phones, cell phones,
everywhere I look.
Red alert, stop! Listen,
shut up and drive,
shut up and read,
Cell phones, why so many.
Everyone talking,
cell phones in cars,
cell phones in bars,
eating places, cell phones.
There you can't escape
from them, you say
to yourself, the restroom,
no one would dare
use cell phone in there,
oh no, I hear someone,
talking to me, I answer them,
oh, sorry sir, did not know you
were on cell phone.
Oh, so many,
shut up, and walk.
Do away with cell phones,
and it would be like,
the crash of '29'.
People need cell phones,
sometimes their nice,
to have, but so many,
cell phones, might
as well join them
if you can't lick 'em,
join them.
Cell phone, cell phone
now how do I use this
thing, oh cell phone, cell phone,
Hello, Hello, oh that's
you mert.
wrote 1-19-07
A stem cell is essentially a blank cell capable of becoming another, more differentiated cell-type in the body, such as a skin cell, a muscle cell or a nerve cell.
quote by Virginia Foxx

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A special friend of mine
Listening to the soft rain fall from the above skies
made me wonder deep down inside
how all those rain drops are combined
in one cloud tht's very light
as i look up to see the rain
it washed all my pain away
it felt as if rain could enter
your heart and read it from any center
rain comes when needed the most
it clears the cost
as if a ghost...
thts why rain is a very special friend of mine....
poem by Missy Poet

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Life And Death On The Stone In The Pond
on that rainy month
a stone was so kind
enough
to let the green moss
wrap its
solid body
there was
mutual bliss in
their
company
then the drought
comes in months
the river where the stone
lives
dried and
mud turned to
cracked
surfaces
the moss knows
that this happens
every year
dies peacefully
around the solid body
of the stone
like sleep waiting
for the next rain
the stone is
undisturbed
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Implications
such is the meaning
of a rainbow, that when there is rain
and when it stops
and the sun begins to shine
a promise is made, that there will be no more
deluge,
that when the road gets wet
by logical implication
there must have been
rain,
and with too much rain in the forest
you know what happens next
the river shall rise
and bring the flood following
the law that nature
gives us
without any telling,
you do not have to tell me
about the implication
about a bag full of clothes
about a closed account
about a ticket for one only in America.
i know you, and you too know me.
that poem
in that junction, where Oedipus meets
the King.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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