Soul On Palms
Lonely steps through the misty streets
of uncommon town, and sparkling blessings
from sleepy moon,
shower my existence together with this autumn rain
that flows through the space
carried on the wings of northern winds.
Oh, where do your eyes look at this moment
to which palms you confidently offered your soul
to be falsely cuddled,
and ruthlessly abandoned with first sounds of tomorrow's dawn?
Accompanied by high smoke
emerging through my mouth
yell, for your affection
silently disappears within me.
Related quotes
Years Have Passed
Years have passed and only sounds of waters have come to my ears,
To-day, indeed, I may even count the ripples around the fishing net.
The pattern of the maple leaves in Autumn dyed with the rain -
Beautiful in the deep mountain!
The sound of the mountain brook gives an illusion of rain drops,
Yet the calm of the waning moon shines over all.
Even in our wandering journey,
The lonely moon accompanies us lighting us from the sky,
The waning moon I used to gaze at in the Royal City.
Undying affection!
Can it end at last, overlaid with time
Even as snow covers the land in the Northern Province?
Even a little pebble does not cease to be,
Though pressed under the snow of Hakusan;
So is my affection even though hidden.
Far from towns, in the heart of the mountain,
The cherry blooms, and wastes its blooms away
With none to see.
The outer world of many sorrows
Is not to be forgotten even here.
At the sound of the evening bell
Lonely grows my heart.
poem by Sugawara Takesue no Musume
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Random Senrys
Dreams
Dreams fade at day light
Residue of dreams leaves dreamer
Unsettled!
Wave of Time
Interval between
Two waves in the time we have
Let’s make most of it!
Moon
Sandalwood moon
Lies cuddled in my palms
You’re perfumed
Love
Disappointment or
Fulfillment in or of love
What one is!
Defenseless Heart
Into your palms flows
My vulnerability
Heart defenseless!
poem by Indira Babbellapati
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The City By the Sea -- San Francisco
At the end of our streets is sunrise;
At the end of our streets are spars;
At the end of our streets is sunset;
At the end of our streets the stars.
Ever the winds of morning
Are cool from the flashing sea-
Flowing swift from our ocean,
Till the fog-dunes crumble and flee.
Slender spars in the offing,
Mast and yard in the slips-
How they tell on the azure
Of the sea-contending ships!
Homeward into the sunset
Sill unwearied we go,
Till the northern hills are misty
With the amber of afterglow.
Stars that sink to our ocean,
Winds that visit our strand,
The heavens are your pathway,
Where is a gladder land!
At the end of our streets is sunrise;
At the end of our streets are spars;
At the end of our streets is sunset;
At the end of our streets the stars.
poem by George Sterling
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Only On This Day...
For: J.L.
It was a cool, July, and it was dusk.
The gentle winds that blew,
brushed the Autumn of your hair.
And a mist, as like in Autumn, touch
your face, as I stood still.
I could not help but wonder, as in Autumn,
are the bees yet in their hive? Snuggled
closely, in their Autumn winter bed.?
An Autumn sun, hid behind the clouds above.
It knew not of this July, only of Autumn, in the air.
It knew of flowers drooping, their brightness,
now fading and curled. It knew of falling leaves,
and colors still so bright. A lone tree against a colored
sky, seemed naked in this July. With all of
this, and some to go, it must be Autumn...Autumn...
Autumn, for this I know.
What of the woman, with the hair of Autumn?
Her eyes of Autumn color and colored clothes
the same. It can not be July for
Autumn is abound.
Autumns every where. Circling sparrows in sky
above, swoop down, in hunt, for the final seeds
of Autumn. How could this be July,
or has the sparrows lost their way?
Surely, this is Autumn, for the chill is in they air.
And, isn't that an Autumn grass, below that
old oak tree? As the gentle Autumn winds,
carry silence for the day.
Now the mist of Autumn, are falling drops of rain.
No, not a shower in July, but an Autumn day,
now cast in gloom, against a steel gray sky.
Autumn, shall never be the same, since
that Autumn day in mid July.
Days Like This...Remind Me Of You
It was a cool, July, and it was dusk.
The gentle winds that blew,
brushed the Autumn of your hair.
And a mist, as like in Autumn, touch
your face, as I stood still.
I could not help but wonder, as in Autumn,
are the bees yet in their hive? Snuggled
closely, in their Autumn winter bed.?
An Autumn sun, hid behind the clouds above.
It knew not of this July, only of Autumn, in the air.
It knew of flowers drooping, their brightness,
now fading and curled. It knew of falling leaves,
and colors still so bright. A lone tree against a colored
sky, seemed naked in this July. With all of
this, and some to go, it must be Autumn...Autumn...
Autumn, for this I know.
What of the woman, with the hair of Autumn?
Her eyes of Autumn color and colored clothes
the same. It can not be July for
Autumn is abound.
Autumns every where. Circling sparrows in sky
above, swoop down, in hunt, for the final seeds
of Autumn. How could this be July,
or has the sparrows lost their way?
Surely, this is Autumn, for the chill is in they air.
And, isn't that an Autumn grass, below that
old oak tree? As the gentle Autumn winds,
carry silence for the day.
Now the mist of Autumn, are falling drops of rain.
No, not a shower in July, but an Autumn day,
now cast in gloom, against a steel gray sky.
Autumn, shall never be the same, since
that Autumn day in mid July.
New York... Not In Autum
It was a cool, July, and it was dusk.
The gentle winds that blew,
brushed the Autumn of your hair.
And a mist, as like in Autumn, touch
your face, as I stood still.
I could not help but wonder, as in Autumn,
are the bees yet in their hive? Snuggled
closely, in their Autumn winter bed.?
An Autumn sun, hid behind the clouds above.
It knew not of this July, only of Autumn, in the air.
It knew of flowers drooping, their brightness,
now fading and curled. It knew of falling leaves,
and colors still so bright. A lone tree against a colored
sky, seemed naked in this July. With all of
this, and some to go, it must be Autumn...Autumn...
Autumn, for this I know.
What of the woman, with the hair of Autumn?
Her eyes of Autumn color and colored clothes
the same. It can not be July for
Autumn is abound.
Autumns every where. Circling sparrows in sky
above, swoop down, in hunt, for the final seeds
of Autumn. How could this be July,
or has the sparrows lost their way?
Surely, this is Autumn, for the chill is in they air.
And, isn't that an Autumn grass, below that
old oak tree? As the gentle Autumn winds,
carry silence for the day.
Now the mist of Autumn, are falling drops of rain.
No, not a shower in July, but an Autumn day,
now cast in gloom, against a steel gray sky.
Autumn, shall never be the same, since
that Autumn day in mid July.
Autumn...Will Never Be The Same
FOR: J.L. With Love
It was a cool, July, and it was dusk.
The gentle winds that blew,
brushed the Autumn of your hair.
And a mist, as like in Autumn, touch
your face, as I stood still.
I could not help but wonder, as in Autumn,
are the bees yet in their hive? Snuggled
closely, in their Autumn winter bed.?
An Autumn sun, hid behind the clouds above.
It knew not of this July, only of Autumn, in the air.
It knew of flowers drooping, their brightness,
now fading and curled. It knew of falling leaves,
and colors still so bright. A lone tree against a colored
sky, seemed naked in this July. With all of
this, and some to go, it must be Autumn...Autumn...
Autumn, for this I know.
What of the woman, with the hair of Autumn?
Her eyes of Autumn color and colored clothes
the same. It can not be July for
Autumn is abound.
Autumns every where. Circling sparrows in sky
above, swoop down, in hunt, for the final seeds
of Autumn. How could this be July,
or has the sparrows lost their way?
Surely, this is Autumn, for the chill is in they air.
And, isn't that an Autumn grass, below that
old oak tree? As the gentle Autumn winds,
carry silence for the day.
Now the mist of Autumn, are falling drops of rain.
No, not a shower in July, but an Autumn day,
now cast in gloom, against a steel gray sky.
Autumn, shall never be the same, since
that Autumn day in mid July.
Carry Me Away
Patrick simmons / jeffrey baxter / michael mcdonald
There was a place in east st. louis
It was in nineteen fifty nine
When they played they filled the streets with music
That lonely blue note music
That takes your cares away, far away
They packed the place when the band was playin
To get some joy from a smoke filled room
Through that door you could see the bodies swayin
The blue note band was playin
Some lonely blue note song, all night long
Oh, it carried me away, oh, carried me away
Oh, it carried me away, oh, carried me away
No place Id rather stay
If you should ever make it to st. louis
On some hot and lonely night
If you listen you can hear that blue note music
They fill the streets with music
It carries you away, far away
Oh, it carried me away, oh, carried me away
Oh, it carried me away, oh, carried me away
No place Id rather stay
song performed by by Doobie Brothers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Day...Was You
It was a cool, July, and it was dusk.
The gentle winds that blew,
brushed the Autumn of your hair.
And a mist, as like in Autumn, touch
your face, as I stood still.
I could not help but wonder, as in Autumn,
are the bees yet in their hive? Snuggled
closely, in their Autumn winter bed.?
An Autumn sun, hid behind the clouds above.
It knew not of this July, only of Autumn, in the air.
It knew of flowers drooping, their brightness,
now fading and curled. It knew of falling leaves,
and colors still so bright. A lone tree against a colored
sky, seemed naked in this July. With all of
this, and some to go, it must be Autumn...Autumn...
Autumn, for this I know.
What of the woman, with the hair of Autumn?
Her eyes of Autumn color and colored clothes
the same. It can not be July for
Autumn is abound.
Autumns every where. Circling sparrows in sky
above, swoop down, in hunt, for the final seeds
of Autumn. How could this be July,
or has the sparrows lost their way?
Surely, this is Autumn, for the chill is in they air.
And, isn't that an Autumn grass, below that
old oak tree? As the gentle Autumn winds,
carry silence for the day.
Now the mist of Autumn, are falling drops of rain.
No, not a shower in July, but an Autumn day,
now cast in gloom, against a steel gray sky.
Autumn, shall never be the same, since
that Autumn day in mid July.
©Joe Fazio
Autumn In July
It was a cool July and it was dusk.
The gentle winds that blew,
brushed the Autumn of your hair.
And a mist, as like in Autumn, touch
your face, as I stood still.
I could not help but wonder, as in Autumn,
are the bees yet in their hive; snuggled
closely, in their Autumn winter bed.?
An Autumn sun, hid behind the clouds above.
It knew not of this July, only of Autumn, in the air.
It knew of flowers drooping, their brightness,
now fading and curled. It knew of falling leaves,
and colors still so bright. A lone tree against a colored
sky, seemed naked in this July. With all of
this, and some to go, it must be Autumn, for this I know.
What of the woman, with the hair of Autumn?
Her eyes of Autumn color and colored clothes
the same. It can not be July, for
Autumn is abound.
Autumns every where. Circling sparrows in sky
above, swoop down, in hunt, for the final seeds
of Autumn. How could this be July,
or have the sparrows lost their way?
Surely, this is Autumn, for the chill is in they air.
And, isn't that an Autumn grass, below that
old oak tree? As the gentle Autumn winds,
carry silence for the day.
Now the mist of Autumn, are falling drops of rain.
No, not a shower in July, but an Autumn day,
now cast in gloom, against a steel gray sky.
Autumn, shall never be the same, since
that Autumn day in mid July.
Autumn In July (rated in group)
It was a cool July and it was dusk.
The gentle winds that blew,
brushed the Autumn of your hair.
And a mist, as like in Autumn, touch
your face, as I stood still.
I could not help but wonder, as in Autumn,
are the bees yet in their hive; snuggled
closely, in their Autumn winter bed.?
An Autumn sun, hid behind the clouds above.
It knew not of this July, only of Autumn, in the air.
It knew of flowers drooping, their brightness,
now fading and curled. It knew of falling leaves,
and colors still so bright. A lone tree against a colored
sky, seemed naked in this July. With all of
this, and some to go, it must be Autumn, for this I know.
What of the woman, with the hair of Autumn?
Her eyes of Autumn color and colored clothes
the same. It can not be July, for
Autumn is abound.
Autumns every where. Circling sparrows in sky
above, swoop down, in hunt, for the final seeds
of Autumn. How could this be July,
or have the sparrows lost their way?
Surely, this is Autumn, for the chill is in they air.
And, isn't that an Autumn grass, below that
old oak tree? As the gentle Autumn winds,
carry silence for the day.
Now the mist of Autumn, are falling drops of rain.
No, not a shower in July, but an Autumn day,
now cast in gloom, against a steel gray sky.
Autumn, shall never be the same, since
that Autumn day in mid July.
A Day Like No Other...
It was a cool July and it was dusk.
The gentle winds that blew,
brushed the Autumn of your hair.
And a mist, as like in Autumn, touch
your face, as I stood still.
I could not help but wonder, as in Autumn,
are the bees yet in their hive; snuggled
closely, in their Autumn winter bed.?
An Autumn sun, hid behind the clouds above.
It knew not of this July, only of Autumn, in the air.
It knew of flowers drooping, their brightness,
now fading and curled. It knew of falling leaves,
and colors still so bright. A lone tree against a colored
sky, seemed naked in this July. With all of
this, and some to go, it must be Autumn, for this I know.
What of the woman, with the hair of Autumn?
Her eyes of Autumn color and colored clothes
the same. It can not be July, for
Autumn is abound.
Autumns every where. Circling sparrows in sky
above, swoop down, in hunt, for the final seeds
of Autumn. How could this be July,
or have the sparrows lost their way?
Surely, this is Autumn, for the chill is in they air.
And, isn't that an Autumn grass, below that
old oak tree? As the gentle Autumn winds,
carry silence for the day.
Now the mist of Autumn, are falling drops of rain.
No, not a shower in July, but an Autumn day,
now cast in gloom, against a steel gray sky.
Autumn, shall never be the same, since
that Autumn day in mid July.
Mid July? Or Not
It was a cool July and it was dusk.
The gentle winds that blew,
brushed the Autumn of your hair.
And a mist, as like in Autumn, touch
your face, as I stood still.
I could not help but wonder, as in Autumn,
are the bees yet in their hive; snuggled
closely, in their Autumn winter bed.?
An Autumn sun, hid behind the clouds above.
It knew not of this July, only of Autumn, in the air.
It knew of flowers drooping, their brightness,
now fading and curled. It knew of falling leaves,
and colors still so bright. A lone tree against a colored
sky, seemed naked in this July. With all of
this, and some to go, it must be Autumn, for this I know.
What of the woman, with the hair of Autumn?
Her eyes of Autumn color and colored clothes
the same. It can not be July, for
Autumn is abound.
Autumns every where. Circling sparrows in sky
above, swoop down, in hunt, for the final seeds
of Autumn. How could this be July,
or have the sparrows lost their way?
Surely, this is Autumn, for the chill is in they air.
And, isn't that an Autumn grass, below that
old oak tree? As the gentle Autumn winds,
carry silence for the day.
Now the mist of Autumn, are falling drops of rain.
No, not a shower in July, but an Autumn day,
now cast in gloom, against a steel gray sky.
Autumn, shall never be the same, since
that Autumn day in mid July.
Autumn In July
It was a cool July and it was dusk.
The gentle winds that blew,
brushed the Autumn of your hair.
And a mist, as like in Autumn, touch
your face, as I stood still.
I could not help but wonder, as in Autumn,
are the bees yet in their hive; snuggled
closely, in their Autumn winter bed.?
An Autumn sun, hid behind the clouds above.
It knew not of this July, only of Autumn, in the air.
It knew of flowers drooping, their brightness,
now fading and curled. It knew of falling leaves,
and colors still so bright. A lone tree against a colored
sky, seemed naked in this July. With all of
this, and some to go, it must be Autumn, for this I know.
What of the woman, with the hair of Autumn?
Her eyes of Autumn color and colored clothes
the same. It can not be July, for
Autumn is abound.
Autumns every where. Circling sparrows in sky
above, swoop down, in hunt, for the final seeds
of Autumn. How could this be July,
or have the sparrows lost their way?
Surely, this is Autumn, for the chill is in they air.
And, isn't that an Autumn grass, below that
old oak tree? As the gentle Autumn winds,
carry silence for the day.
Now the mist of Autumn, are falling drops of rain.
No, not a shower in July, but an Autumn day,
now cast in gloom, against a steel gray sky.
Autumn, shall never be the same, since
that Autumn day in mid July.
poem by Waldon Pond Productions
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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That Autumn Day In Mid July.
It was a cool July and it was dusk.
The gentle winds that blew,
brushed the Autumn of your hair.
And a mist, as like in Autumn, touch
your face, as I stood still.
For: J.L.
The first thing I thought of on this
day was you.
_________________________________________ _
I could not help but wonder, as in Autumn,
are the bees yet in their hive; snuggled
closely, in their Autumn winter bed.?
An Autumn sun, hid behind the clouds above.
It knew not of this July, only of Autumn, in the air.
It knew of flowers drooping, their brightness,
now fading and curled. It knew of falling leaves,
and colors still so bright. A lone tree against a colored
sky, seemed naked in this July. With all of
this, and some to go, it must be Autumn, for this I know.
What of the woman, with the hair of Autumn?
Her eyes of Autumn color and colored clothes
the same. It can not be July, for
Autumn is abound.
Autumns every where. Circling sparrows in sky
above, swoop down, in hunt, for the final seeds
of Autumn. How could this be July,
or have the sparrows lost their way?
Surely, this is Autumn, for the chill is in they air.
And, isn't that an Autumn grass, below that
old oak tree? As the gentle Autumn winds,
carry silence for the day.
Now the mist of Autumn, are falling drops of rain.
No, not a shower in July, but an Autumn day,
now cast in gloom, against a steel gray sky.
Autumn, shall never be the same, since
that Autumn day in mid July.
Where Is Tomorrow
Written by orbison/dees.
Where is tomorrow? an island of dreams.
Where is tomorrow? flying on golden wings,tomorrow.
Where is tomorrow? the end of time.
Where is tomorrow.youre no longer mine.
Tomorrow, tomorrow.Ill get over you.
Tomorrow,tomorrow.when tomorrow comes,
Then Ill stop loving you,tomorrow.
Where is tomorrow? tomorrow is gone.
Gone losting stardust,hiding from the dawn.
Tomorrow,tomorrow.tomorrow.
I long for tomorrow.Ill be strong tomorrow.
I want cry for you tomorrow.
Where is tomorrow?
Where is tomorrow?
Tomorrow.
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Its Lonely
Written by orbison/melson
Every sleepy dawn wakes to find you gone,and its lonely.
All my sunny days, laugh and run away, its lonely.
(oh so lonely)
The sun dont really shine,its lonely.
Always to remind me that its only another day,
To feel this way.its lonely.lonely.
I am lonely all the time, youre not mine.
Without you I find,its lonely.
Each new starry sky, smiles and says goodbye,its lonely.
Dreams we used to share tell me you dont care, its lonely.
The moon has lost its glow, its lonely.
It is there to show me that its only another night,
I cant hold you tight, its lonely.lonely.
I know why I cry, for all the world to see.
Youre not here with me. its lonely,lonely,lonely.
Transcribed by alberto
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dance Mayflies Dance
They dance they sing a cheerful song
to spread the wings beyond along
the rising sun they want they take
under the blue of silent lake
They dance they sing a melody
no winter wind but trees embrace
the summer glows red ivory
no winter wind but only grace
they jump they fly a symphony
no winter wind but joyful face
They live they dance against the day
the moment of they can not dance
sparkling wings they were washed away
they fall dying they can not dance
the sky the moon were turning gray
till dawn they lost they can not dance
They are Mayflies which dance to live
though short they live they love to give
till dawn they lost their wings to fly
till dawn they lost the dreams so high
poem by Vidi Pudinkz
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Blue Rain (Coming Down)
Silently I hear the sound of the blue rain coming down.
Its late tonight and I just saw you walking by.
Without one word of hello or goodbye.
Just one look at you with someone new,
And then I knew Id see you go around in the blue blue rain.
I didnt know one moment ago it could rain this way
You use to run straight to my arms now you turn away.
Oh I never knew such of feeling of blue.
Blue rain blue rain.
Blue rain.
Why did you make me love you than break my heart in two.
Then leave me alone here in the rain to cry for you.
Tomorrow will be filled with the lonely.blue rain.
Blue rain.blue rain.
I remember you all alone,walking on,
And crying,losing you,
In the blue blue rain.
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Blue Rain
Silently i hear the sound of the blue rain coming down.
It's late tonight and i just saw you walking by.
Without one word of hello or goodbye.
Just one look at you with someone new,
And then i knew i'd see you go around in the blue blue rain.
I didn't know one moment ago it could rain this way
You use to run straight to my arms now you turn away.
Oh i never knew such of feeling of blue.
Blue rain blue rain.
Blue rain.
Why did you make me love you than break my heart in two.
Then leave me alone here in the rain to cry for you.
Tomorrow will be filled with the lonely.blue rain.
Blue rain.blue rain.
I remember you all alone,walking on,
And crying,losing you,
In the blue blue rain.
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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