Prayer for a profusion of sunflowers
Send sunflowers!
With my turkey-bone whistle
I am calling the birds
To sing upon the sunflowers.
For when the clouds hear them singing
They will come quickly,
And rain will fall upon our fields.
Send sunflowers!
poem by Amy Lowell
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Upon Gazing At The Cut Sunflowers Of Vincent Van Gogh
upon seeing the cut sunflowers of vincent van gogh
i cannot but think about the tragic moment when
he cut his ear, when blood oozed
when at the end, finally he took his life away,
this thing happens when one knows much about
the life of another
this familiarity that breeds contempt,
and so gazing again at the painting of vincent,
i start with real sunflowers in my mind, the one that mother
planted in her garden when she was alive,
i think of the sun and the sunshine touching my face
i think about warmth and life and oozing verve
the vivacity of all things around my little world,
the field of sunflowers and the bees and the butterflies
and birds
i pretend i have not read about the life of vincent
i pretend i have not heard about the stories of mother
i just gaze again at the cut sunflowers. just that.
now there is joy in my heart. The suicide story does not exist
in the bold yellow petals, on those three huge sunflowers
look at them again, they are the symbols of our smiles.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Sunflowers
i know where you go
when you want to fall
why do you want to be broken?
i know where you go
when you want to fall
yes your friends they tell me everything
yes i know where you go
yes i know what you do
yes i know the awful things you say
and who you say them to
yes i know where you go
yes i know what you do
i know how you feel
you get crazy inside
they say it runs in the family
i know just how you feel
you get crazy inside
your mom she said that
you are just like me
i can see it in your eyes
i can see it in you shaky hands
i think you think i'm stupid
you don't think i understand
i see you and i see myself
when i was a younger man
when you were a child
you were happy and free
you were my reason to live
i would die when you smiled at me
i can still see you
i remember you painting
sunflowers in your room
i know where you go
when you want to fall
hey don't you want to be happy?
i know where you go
when you want to fall
your useless friends
they tell me everything
everything
i see you run around in circles
i see you digging your own hole
i see you fight the fights
you just can't win
i see you losing self control
what it does to me
deep down inside
i hope you will never know
when you were a child
you were happy and free
you were my reason to live
i would die when you smiled at me
i can still see you
painting flowers on the wall
i remember you happy
i remember it all
chorus
sunflowers in your room
all i want to remember
pretty pictures on the wall
i remember you happy
i remember it all
all i want to remember
sunflowers in your room
sunflowers in your room
song performed by by Everclear
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Windowsill
I rested my head on the windowsill
The wind cuddling me like it did to you
When we were in love
We were together
I felt the comfort
From the wind
Like you must have
Sensed
The fields
Rolled by
Cornfields
Sunflowers
The scarecrows
Dancing with the wind
The green
Your color
The color of your eyes
A bit lighter though
Like if lit from behind
By the sun
The train moved forward
So did the time
Caressing me
Like the wind
Leaving behind
The cornfields
Sunflowers
The green
And the
Memories
Of you
poem by by unknown author
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Ideal
Remnants of Kansas and Sunflowers--
Play hopscotch with Angels of my door...
Guardians of January...
Guardians of Evermore;
Turtles and Hares ever present...
Seem at times to be gone but are not--
Remnants of Kansas and Sunflowers--
Talk of the spiders that they've caught;
Allowing no viscious webs of deceit...
No Big Birds with Monsterous minds...
No Ghosts of the past-nor shadows to last...!
But only Guardian Angels so very kind! ;
Dedicated to: Tom Stevens (Stephens)
poem by Theodora Onken
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Easy
it would have been easy to write
about sunflowers
gazing to the light of the sun
and feel the wind
and hear the songs of the leaves
in an orchestra of nature
something so happily designed
something even so palatable to the tongue
nice to hear
soft to the feel of the skin
as soft as silk
or kapok
but times are hard
the truth is
you are alone in the hospital and
worrying about how to survive an ordeal
with relatives visiting only
for 15 minutes
and they go on with their own lives too
so i cannot write about the sunflowers
someone writes it
for us
i write something truthful to you
this existence of the mice and how it is trapped
in the gutter
under a heavy rain
with thunder and lightning
when everyone is soundly sleeping on their warm beds
when all the lights are turned off
when silence speaks again
without any bar
as to what to say
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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310
sleep now baby it is late
dreams, have some dreams
you need dreams to appease you
i will not be with you
anymore
come summer time
the sun shines in full glory
and i will be with my sunflowers
the wind
and the moon and some stars to carry me away
from my previous rainy days,
so sleep now,
dream about the sunflowers and let your hair flow freely
with the wind,
forget him for a while, think some more,
destiny awaits you
with so much anticipation,
without plans.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Canadian Canary
sleep now baby it is late
dreams, have some dreams
you need dreams to appease you
i will not be with you
anymore
come summer time
the sun shines in full glory
and i will be with my sunflowers
the wind
and the moon and some stars to carry me away
from my previous rainy days,
so sleep now,
dream about the sunflowers and let your hair flow freely
with the wind,
forget him for a while, think some more,
destiny awaits you
with so much anticipation,
without plans.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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PASSAGE for Allen Ginsberg
Sunflowers beside the railroad tracks,
sunflowers giving back the beauty God gave you
to one lonely traveler
who spies you from a train window
as she passes on her way to another train station.
She wonders if she were like you
rooted to your bit of earth
would she be happy,
would she be satisfied
to have the world glide past and not regret it?
For a moment, she thinks so,
then decides that, no, she never could
and turns back to her book of poetry,
remembering how hard it was to get here
and that flowers have their places as people do
and she cannot simply exchange hers for another,
even though she wants it.
That's how it is.
Her mother told her.
Now she believes her,
although she wishes she didn't.
At fifty-three, she feels the need
to rebel against the inevitable winding down.
She already feels it in her bones,
feels artery deterioration, and imagines
cancerous indications on medical charts
she hopes will never be part of her life,
as she turns back to the window
to catch the last glimpse of the sunflowers
that sent her thoughts on a journey
from which she knows she will never return,
only go on and on
and then just go.
Flute-Priest Song For Rain
Whistle under the water,
Make the water bubble to the tones of the flute.
I call the bluebirds song into the water:
Wee-kee! Wee-kee-kee!
Dawn is coming,
The morning star shines upon us.
Bluebird singing to the West clouds,
Bring the humming rain.
Water-rattles shake,
Flute whistles,
Star in Heaven shines.
I blow the oriole's song,
The yellow song of the North.
I call rain clouds with my rattles:
Wee-kee-kee, oriole.
Pattering rain.
To the South I blow my whistle,
To the red parrot of the South I call.
Send red lightning,
Under your wings
The forked lightning.
Thunder-rattles whirl
To the sky waters.
Fill the springs.
The water is moving.
Wait -
Whistle to the East
With a magpie voice.
Wee-kee! Wee-kee-kee!
Call the storm-clouds
That they come rushing.
Call the loud rain.
Why does it not come?
Who is bad?
Whose heart is evil?
Who has done wickedness?
I weep,
I rend my garments,
I grieve for the sin which is in this place.
My flute sobs with the voice of all birds in the water.
Even to the six directions I weep and despair.
Come, O winds, from the sides of the sky,
Open your bird-beaks that rain may fall down.
Drench our fields, our houses,
Fill the land
With tumult of rain.
poem by Amy Lowell
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The author O. Henry taught me about the value of the unexpected. He once wrote about the noise of flowers and the smell of birds - the birds were chickens and the flowers dried sunflowers rattling against a wall.
quote by Chuck Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Gazing At Sunflowers
Your first wife’s friend
came in with her
for a coffee and chat
and you were sitting
on the sofa
with the sleeping cat
and she looked
at the Van Gogh print
of sunflowers
over the mantelpiece
above the open fire
did you paint that?
the friend asked
staring at it
through John Lennon
type glasses
no you said
it’s a Van Gogh print
oh she said
peering closer
I do like flowers don’t you?
Yeah you replied
sunflowers have a way
when Van Gogh
pushes them through
and she stood in silence
taking in the print
and flowers
and colours
and you noticed
she had a run
in her stockings
from the back
of her knee
to where
her thigh disappeared
beneath her drab dress
and your first wife
came in and said
oh you’re not looking
at that painting are you?
He knows all about
those arty types
with their odd ways
and weird eyes
and her friend said
turning round
scratching her ass
I know nothing
of art and such
it’s way out
of my class.
poem by Terry Collett
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The Road To Sergio Osmena...
beside the long and winding road
the rivers flow, the hills all green,
the forests crown,
thick fogs hang
on the shoulders of mountains,
birds are migrating
and showers of rain pass from time
to time... and then sunshine
and glossy are the leaves
and sunflowers are
blooming on the
countryside.
'this is still a very beautiful world'
i am telling myself again about this conclusion.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Big doesn't necessarily mean better. Sunflowers aren't better than violets.
quote by Edna Ferber
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When A Sunflower Dies
It's sad to watch sunflowers die
That once were strong and bright
Their thick stalks drawing food from soil
To reach amazing height
Their faces once were giant stars
Their hearts an intense brown
Their sunny petals always smiled
And formed a golden crown
When stalks are cut and brought indoors
To parlors decked with grace
They bring its owners fleeting joy
With fresh and glowing face
Nobody cares when in a week
Life ebbs from each dry stem
Each petal shriveling and spent
To certain death condemned
It's sad to watch sunflowers die
That once were strong and bright
Their thick stalks drawing food from soil
To reach amazing height.
poem by Liilia Talts Morrison
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Be A Sunflower
Sunflowers just can't help it,
Turning toward the sun
Whatever the weather.
So be a sunflower today,
Have fun!
Be better!
Face the sun!
poem by Harriet James
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sunflowers turn their heads
gazing at the sun always
from dawn until dusk
haiku by John Celes
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Sunflowers After Sex.
After the sex she stood
In front of the Van Gogh
Painting and gazed. Never
Saw that last night, she said.
It was dark, Max replied.
She touched the painting
With her fingers. Why have
A painting of flowers when
You can go out and buy some?
She asked. They last longer this
Way, he replied. So did you
Paint this? She asked in a state
Of semi undress, her eyes sleepy,
Her hair in a mess. No, Van Gogh
Did, he replied. Is he a friend of
Yours? She asked rubbing her breasts.
He sighed and shook his head. No,
Van Gogh painted that many years
Ago, now he’s dead. It’s a bit yellow,
She said, looking at the painting
Closer, what are those yellow flowers
Supposed to be? Sunflowers, he said,
They’re big flowers; people grow them
For real. She raised her eyebrows and
Pulled a face. What about that drink?
She asked. Sure, Max replied pouring
Her gin in a tall glass. She took, sipped
And winked an eye. What about more
Sex? She sighed. Sure, Max, looking at
Van Gogh’s Sunflowers, boringly replied.
poem by Terry Collett
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When the sun rises and grows faint
The sunflowers know when the sun rises,
they follow the hot rays
that unfolds in the sky, that fall
on hills and valleys;
similar your presence, humanity draws me
and it's as if
I am destined to you
when the sun rises and grows faint.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Heavy Rains....
the heavy rains come too
like the usual path of the season
but look
the yellow daisies keep their stalks strong
and tall
and not one is destroyed beside the
sunflowers always hoping for the
sun to come
as usual too like the paths of the seasons
and there you are
all wet taking the bath that you need
under the rain
and sky
wading through the vast air
with dew on your hair
with tongue licking the bland taste of
the rain
on your lips.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Send Your Mind
Van Morrison
Bang Masters
Transcriber: [email protected]
(guitar intro)
(Send your mind)
(Send your mind)
(Send your mind)
(Send your mind)
Well you're out there, on the highway
While you're drivin', a-roll on by
Goin' south between the bridges
While the river's runnin' dry
And if ya can't come home
Please send your mind
(Send your mind)
(Send your mind)
(Send your mind)
(Send your mind)
Now you're talkin', where ya goin'
On the train that sees the road
'Cross the nation, passing stations
While the night is as black as coal
And if you can't come home
Please send your mind
(Send your mind)
(Send your mind)
Ooo!
(Guitar solo and Instrumental)
(Send your mind)
(Send your mind)
Well, if your handle ain't, on your heartbeat
And your headed between the sheet
And the sign isn't from the lamp post
On the corner of the street
And if ya can't come home
Please send your mind
(Send your mind)
(Send your mind)
Ooo-ooo-we
(Send your mind)
(Send your mind)
Ooo-ooo-wee-ooo
(Send your mind)
A we-we-eee
(Send your mind)
A we-eee
(Send your mind)
Aah, little darlin'
(Send your mind)
Come on home
(Send your mind)
Come on home
(Send your mind)
Aah, send it, send it, send it
Send your mind
(Send your mind)
Ah, try to send it, baby
(Send your mind)
All ya gotta do
(Send your mind)
Shoo-be-do, shoo-be-do, shoo-be-do
(Send your mind)
Aah, send your mind
(Send your mind)
(Send your mind)
Go on send it darlin'
(Send your mind)
Come on home
(Send your mind)
~
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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