The Spring Equinox
Now is the pause between asleep and awake:
Two seasons take
A colour and quality each from each as yet.
The new stage-set
Spandril, column and fan of spring is raised against the
winter backdrop
Murrey and soft;
Now aloft
The sun swings on the equinoctial line.
Few flowers yet shine:
The hellebore hangs a clear green bell and opulent leaves
above dark mould;
The light is cold
In arum leaves, and a primrose flickers
Here and there; the first cool bird-song flickers in the thicket.
Clouds arc pale as the pollen from sallows;
March fallows are white with lime like frost.
This is the pause between asleep and awake:
The pause of contemplation and of peice,
Before the earth must teem and the heart ache.
This is the child's pause, before it sees
That the choice of one way has denied the other ;
Must choose the either, or both, of to care and not to care;
Before the light or darkness shall discover
Irreparable loss; before it must take
Blame for the creature caught in the necessary snare:
Receiving a profit, before it holds a snare.
poem by Anne Barbara Ridler
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Related quotes
In Mind...Still
Evening it is
Everyone, in a hurry
Except you
The sun, so sleepy
The clouds, so gravid
You pass by and pause
I pause and look
Your luggage
On your back
I see
Your buggage
In your heart
I feel
Your eyes
White
And black
And grey
And Glassy
Betrayal, betrayal, betrayal
A drizzle...
In haste
I depart
I ponder
No Home
No Home
Poor you
A distance...
I look back
The pause
Still on
You are home
This kerb
Your home
Raindrops...
Not a pause
It's a stop
You are home
Torrents!
poem by Simon Odhiambo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Red Carpet
Uh, yeah (ooh yeah-yeah-yeah)
Check one, two, it's the Piper, AKA Kels (ooh yeah-yeah-yeah)
I'm in the building right now and uh (whoo)
I'm looking for nothing but steppers
(Tell me where the steppers at)
So get on the dance floor and come on
(Where are all the steppers at?)
(Ooh-ooh...) uh, I feel good
(Ooh-ooh...) I mean, I don't mean to brag, but uh
Custom green suit, apple 'gators
Hundred thousand on my wrist (whoo)
Pinky shining, Coup reclinin'
White TL linen outfits (whoo)
Jump out styling, ladies smiling
Paparazzis everywhere (whoo)
Hummer, stretches, limo, Lexus
Pull up while people stop and stare
(The whole scene looks like we're all on TV)
Ooh sometimes life can be like a dream
When you're living on the big screen
Fancy cars, movie stars
Red carpet and big applause
Limousines and search lights
This is how we gon' do it tonight, so...
Pause (flash) pause (flash)
Pause (flash) pause (flash)
You and your partner are so, so clean
So take a picture for the memory
Pause (flash) pause (flash)
Pause (flash) pause (flash)
Ooh I wanna go steppin' now (whoa)
Step contest you know I'm 'bout to clown (yeah)
(All I need is my partner; we go together like a hand in glove)
Ooh DJ put the record on (yeah) picture it's my favorite song
(Step in the name of love) (whoo) one more time (step in the name of love) yeah
(Oh the whole scene looks like we're all on TV)
Ooh sometimes life can be like a dream (like a dream)
When you're living on the big screen (big screen)
Fancy cars, movie stars
Red carpet and big applause
Limousines and search lights
This is how we gon' do it tonight, so...
Pause (flash) pause (flash)
Pause (flash) pause (flash)
You and your partner are so, so clean
So take a picture for the memory
Pause (flash) pause (flash)
Pause (flash) pause (flash)
You know us (you know us) whoa
(You know how we like to dress up) and go out
(And go out and hit the club)
I'm not leaving here 'til I take me a picture, whoa
(Camera man) oh yeah (just wait til I'm ready) oh yeah
(And then you can take a pic)
On three y'all, one, two, three, say cheese
Pause (flash) pause (flash)
Pause (flash) pause (flash)
Pause (flash) pause (flash)
Pause (flash) pause (flash)
Fancy cars, movie stars
Red carpet and big applause (whoa)
Limousines and search lights
This is how we gon' do it tonight, so...
Pause (flash) pause (flash)
Pause (flash) pause (flash)
You and your partner are so, so clean
So take a picture for the memory (ohh)
Pause (flash) pause (flash)
Pause (flash) pause (flash)
Fancy cars, movie stars
Red carpet and big applause (whoa-whoa-whoa)
Limousines and search lights (oh)
This is how we gon' do it tonight, so...
Pause (flash) pause (flash)
Pause (flash) pause (flash)
You and your partner are so, so clean
So take a picture for the memory
Pause (flash) pause (flash) (oh)
Pause (flash) pause (flash)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Home
song performed by by R. Kelly
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Take Your Life Off Pause
If you hesitate to bake it,
You or anyone will get to taste the cake.
Why is there a procrastination?
What is it you await to negotiate?
You will never know how that cake is rated.
Or even worthy of debate.
If you hestitate to bake it,
Pointless becomes the time wasted.
Take your life off pause,
Because you're seeking first to appease.
Take your life off pause,
Add to your life flavor.
Don't be afraid to dip into mystique.
Take your life off pause and bake it.
Take your life off pause and bake that cake.
Take your life off pause don't you fake it.
Take your life off pause don't wait too late.
Take your life off pause.
And...
Eliminate those tightened jaws.
You will never know how that cake is rated.
Or even worthy of debate.
If you hestitate to bake it,
Pointless is the time you waste.
Take your life off pause!
Bake and taste it.
And...
Take your life off pause.
Why negotiate?
Take your life off pause!
Bake and taste it.
And...
Take your life off pause.
Don't wait too late.
Take your life off pause!
Bake and taste it.
And...
Take your life off pause.
There is no need to debate.
Take your life off pause and bake it.
Take your life off pause and bake that cake.
Take your life off pause don't you fake it.
Take your life off pause don't wait too late.
Take your life off pause.
And...
Eliminate those tightened jaws.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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O' World
Before we leap over you half, you become dark
Paving not a path of light to mark
Mean a pause to rest but we don't hark
For your pause means a deadly arc
And we're warned of devils that bark
Charms of ammunition that park
One step ahead for us on you dark
We're then preyed to that dreadly park
How then
Not to be mucky, mirky you ask
Your heart to shine and spark
From your effulgent womb we to hallmark
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Sleep of the Body the Soul's Awakening
Every night Thou freest our spirits from the body
And its snare, making them pure as rased tablets.
Every night spirits are released from this cage,
And set free, neither lording it nor lorded over.
At night prisoners are unaware of their prison,
At night kings are unaware of their majesty.
Then there is no thought or care for loss or gain,
No regard to such an one or such an one.
The state of the 'Knower' is such as this, even when awake.
God says,4 'Thou wouldst deem him awake though asleep,
Sleeping to the affairs of the world, day and night,
Like a pen in the directing hand of the writer.
He who sees not the hand which effects the writing
Fancies the effect proceeds from the motion of the pen.
If the 'Knower' revealed the particulars of this state,
'Twould rob the vulgar of their sensual sleep.
His soul wanders in the desert that has no similitude;
Like his body, his spirit is enjoying perfect rest;
Freed from desire of eating and drinking,
Like a bird escaped from cage and snare.
But when he is again beguiled into the snare,
He cries for help to the Almighty.
Spring Will Come
Under a grey winter sky
I pause while passing by
Dryness bares its fangs
On a bare thread hangs
Leaves desperate to hang on
Down below the grounds beckon.
For a moment a little doubt
Would new leaves sprout?
From surround serene and calm
I hear the winds hum
No doubt the spring will come.
poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay
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Winter Rose/love Awake
All through the summer I have followed you around
Bringing a rose for the winter thats coming
Now the snow is on the ground.
Winter rose. winter rose.
Shine your light in the air.
Winter rose. winter rose.
Skine your light everywhere.
Love awake. toll the bell.
Tell the world how glad you are.
Love awake to the day
When we can make our love awake.
Lord knows we need it any time we can get it.
But if we forget it every now and then.
But if you dont feel it, later on youll regret it.
And if we let it we could set it free, you and me.
Love awake. tone the bell.
Tell the world how glad you are.
Love awake to the day
When we can make our love awake.
Snowfalls in the winter,
Spring brings the rain.
But its never to long before the summer comes again.
It always comes again!
Love awake.
song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Between the Now and Then
Upon horizon, night to day ~
there between the now and then,
I often pause along the way,
to tiptoe through the moonlit glen ~
or perhaps take in sun's light,
night to day ~ day to night.
Upon horizon, day to day ~
there between the then and now,
as seasons grow along the way,
to crease the face of timely brow ~
or perhaps steal time away,
day to day ~ day to day.
Upon horizon, day to night ~
there between the now and then,
I stand beneath my autumn light,
bereft as memory calls again ~
to pain the heart with bygone sight,
Night to day ~ day to night.
Upon horizon, night to night ~
there between the then and now,
I know that winter casts its sight,
on one last leaf that will not bow ~
to frost within its golden sight,
night to night ~ night to night.
Upon horizon, night to day ~
there between the now and then,
I know my spring will fade away,
and summer's soft remember when
will echo gently autumn's way ~
day to night ~ night to day....
Winter's near ~ Winter's near......
poem by Hazelmarie Elliott
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The Winter's Spring
The winter comes; I walk alone,
I want no bird to sing;
To those who keep their hearts their own
The winter is the spring.
No flowers to please--no bees to hum--
The coming spring's already come.
I never want the Christmas rose
To come before its time;
The seasons, each as God bestows,
Are simple and sublime.
I love to see the snowstorm hing;
'Tis but the winter garb of spring.
I never want the grass to bloom:
The snowstorm's best in white.
I love to see the tempest come
And love its piercing light.
The dazzled eyes that love to cling
O'er snow-white meadows sees the spring.
I love the snow, the crumpling snow
That hangs on everything,
It covers everything below
Like white dove's brooding wing,
A landscape to the aching sight,
A vast expanse of dazzling light.
It is the foliage of the woods
That winters bring--the dress,
White Easter of the year in bud,
That makes the winter Spring.
The frost and snow his posies bring,
Nature's white spurts of the spring.
poem by John Clare
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Pause 6
pause
silence
more silence
it is my belief that in times of our silence
when we pause a little bit
from so much talk
and (nonsense)
we simply let God pass
and we pause some more sensing this air of holiness this divinity
that is simply
not found in ourselves
malice sometimes gets shamed
and we are silenced
but i know with our caliber, it will not be for long
we talk again
unceasingly as though the words in this world will be out
and there is no more word
left for tomorrow
(oh, what a lot of nonsense!)
let us pause again, i am a little bit tired
for once let us be silent and be happy within the confines
of our soul
leave me alone
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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My Thanks,
ACCOMPANYING MANUSCRIPTS PRESENTED TO A FRIEND.
'T is said that in the Holy Land
The angels of the place have blessed
The pilgrim's bed of desert sand,
Like Jacob's stone of rest.
That down the hush of Syrian skies
Some sweet-voiced saint at twilight sings
The song whose holy symphonies
Are beat by unseen wings;
Till starting from his sandy bed,
The wayworn wanderer looks to see
The halo of an angel's head
Shine through the tamarisk-tree.
So through the shadows of my way
Thy smile hath fallen soft and clear,
So at the weary close of day
Hath seemed thy voice of cheer.
That pilgrim pressing to his goal
May pause not for the vision's sake,
Yet all fair things within his soul
The thought of it shall wake:
The graceful palm-tree by the well,
Seen on the far horizon's rim;
The dark eyes of the fleet gazelle,
Bent timidly on him;
Each pictured saint, whose golden hair
Streams sunlike through the convent's gloom;
Pale shrines of martyrs young and fair,
And loving Mary's tomb;
And thus each tint or shade which falls,
From sunset cloud or waving tree,
Along my pilgrim path, recalls
The pleasant thought of thee.
Of one in sun and shade the same,
In weal and woe my steady friend,
Whatever by that holy name
The angels comprehend.
Not blind to faults and follies, thou
Hast never failed the good to see,
Nor judged by one unseemly bough
The upward-struggling tree.
These light leaves at thy feet I lay,--
Poor common thoughts on common things,
Which time is shaking, day by day,
Like feathers from his wings;
Chance shootings from a frail life-tree,
To nurturing care but little known,
Their good was partly learned of thee,
Their folly is my own.
That tree still clasps the kindly mould,
Its leaves still drink the twilight dew,
And weaving its pale green with gold,
Still shines the sunlight through.
There still the morning zephyrs play,
And there at times the spring bird sings,
And mossy trunk and fading spray
Are flowered with glossy wings.
Yet, even in genial sun and rain,
Root, branch, and leaflet fail and fade;
The wanderer on its lonely plain
Erelong shall miss its shade.
O friend beloved, whose curious skill
Keeps bright the last year's leaves and flowers,
With warm, glad, summer thoughts to fill
The cold, dark, winter hours
Pressed on thy heart, the leaves I bring
May well defy the wintry cold,
Until, in Heaven's eternal spring,
Life's fairer ones unfold.
poem by John Greenleaf Whittier
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In March
The sun falls warm: the southern winds awake:
The air seethes upwards with a steamy shiver:
Each dip of the road is now a crystal lake,
And every rut a little dancing river.
Through great soft clouds that sunder overhead
The deep sky breaks as pearly blue as summer:
Out of a cleft beside the river's bed
Flaps the black crow, the first demure newcomer.
The last seared drifts are eating fast away
With glassy tinkle into glittering laces:
Dogs lie asleep, and little children play
With tops and marbles in the sun-bare places;
And I that stroll with many a thoughtful pause
Almost forget that winter ever was.
poem by Archibald Lampman
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Sleep
He is aways asleep
walking chatting working playing
though wide awake
He does not miss a train
and you cannot outwit him
in conversation or at playground
But believe it or not
he is always asleep
He has two minds one asleep
and the other awake
Or else the wide awake mind is the
isle of Langerhans
in the midst of the mind.awake
The mind asleep is
connected along hot line
with the pituitary gland
which is the point
whence the expanding universe
shot forth with a big bang
poem by Dr. Ramesh Chandra Mukhopadhyaya
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Honor Me, As I Honor You
As I sit here, alone and imprisoned, I ponder
If this is what your mind has caused for you;
Has fear imprisoned you I wonder, as I pause for you-
How could you not allow my help, I wonder! ?
I loved you for all you were, not any less, for cause-
I leave you now with a choice that only you may make!
Remember 'us' before and allow this chance to take!
Perchance, now, before you act, you may take pause!
Just what is causal to your choice to still hold?
It is otherwise unequivocal to all, this I do believe!
As is, you are the only one that you did deceive!
As for your deceitful posit, it's bell has tolled!
Magic need be restored, as was previous, truly-
Honor me, my love, as I honor thee, duly!
Maurice Harris,18 June 2008
poem by Maurice Harris
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Winter's Whitest Spurts
Although John Clare declared that he
saw spring in winter’s whitest spurts,
for many this is hard to see
when, freezing, all our body hurts,
and winter’s direst discontent
makes cold blasts pierce the frozen soul.
We wonder where the summer went
when icy winds exact their toll,
and whistling toll for all of us
on nights we wish would be more silent.
each blast a blaring blunderbuss
that’s aimed to make us all an island,
disconnected from the spring
and summer, fall, that we remember
when we for warmth our cold arms fling
around each other in December.
Inspired by John Clare’s “The Winter’s Spring”:
THE winter comes; I walk alone,
I want no bird to sing;
To those who keep their hearts their own
The winter is the spring.
No flowers to please-no bees to hum-
The coming spring's already come.
I never want the Christmas rose
To come before its time;
The seasons, each as God bestows,
Are simple and sublime.
I love to see the snowstorm hing;
'Tis but the winter garb of spring.
I never want the grass to bloom:
The snowstorm's best in white.
I love to see the tempest come
And love its piercing light.
The dazzled eyes that love to cling
O'er snow-white meadows sees the spring.
I love the snow, the crumpling snow
That hangs on everything,
It covers everything below
Like white dove's brooding wing,
A landscape to the aching sight,
A vast expanse of dazzling light.
It is the foliage of the woods
That winters bring-the dress,
White Easter of the year in bud,
That makes the winter Spring.
The frost and snow his posies bring,
Nature's white spurts of the spring.
12/24/09
poem by Gershon Hepner
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Interrupted
Like a pause in pain
I ring the bell
of homecoming. I was ready
to meet the hurricane.
The alien neighbor of white fires.
After the rains
the slush will overwhelm the abducted
silence.
The celestial peace will
be shattered. Something will remain
unexplained, between the kisses of doors.
Go soflty into the dark
I know myself.
From your eyes the stained thoughts
will read the winter of leaves laden
with crisp snowflakes.
poem by Satish Verma
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An Elocution....
we read
between the lines
we pause
we take in a lot of the other
we read them and they become a part of
our innards
we pause and we take sleep
a journey
into an imbibing
the roads are too many
but we choose only one
not necessarily the happy one
we take what
is only necessary
we take the stairs one by one
we count each
sorrow we leave each happy moment
like a landmark
we always surge
like a bus into the other end of the road
that never ends
we read between the lines
we become what is
between them
we do not understand how we become
we just become
buds, flowers, bees and
pools of
clear water
we are flowing and drained
we exude and then
we go
until we are finally gone
and we have forgotten
to ask who we are
and so
what right have we to
deserve the
answers
we go, and then we are finally gone
we are never
anyone.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Daisies
I went to the florist,
And asked for long lasting flowers.
He pulled out a bunch
And proudly said just arrived from
Bangalore.
I couldn’t believe what I saw,
Dainty petals colour of new born baby’s cheeks,
And inside lime green.
I picked the whole lot
And put them in a pot,
Every time I pass
I just have to pause.
They are still fresh after a week
As promised,
The colour scheme truly epitomises
The great artist at work.
I silently pay my
Obeisance.
poem by Mamta Agarwal
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Cupid And Swallows Flying From Winter. By Dagley
'We fly from the cold.'
AWAY , away, o'er land and sea,
This is now no home for me;
My light wings may never bear
Northern cloud or winter air.
Murky shades are gathering fast,
Sleet and snow are on the blast,
Trees from which the leaves are fled,
Flowers whose very roots are dead,
Grass of its green blade bereft,
These are all that now are left.
--Linger here another day,
I shall be as sad as they;
My companions fly with spring,
I too must be on the wing.
Where are the sweet gales whose song
Wont to waft my darts along?
Scented airs! oh, not like these,
Rough as they which sweep the seas;
But those sighs of rose which bring
Incense from their wandering.
Where are the bright flowers that kept
Guard around me while I slept?
Where the sunny eyes whose beams
Waken'd me from my soft dreams?--
These are with the swallows gone,--
Beauty's heart is chill'd to stone.
Oh! for some sweet southern clime,
Where 'tis ever summer time,--
Where, if blossoms fall, their tomb
Is amid new birth of bloom,--
Where green leaves are ever springing,
Where the lark is always singing,--
One of those bright isles which lie
Fair beneath an azure sky,
Isles of cinnamon and spice,
Shadow each of Paradise,--
Where the flowers shine with dyes,
Tinted bright from the sun-rise,--
Where the birds which drink their dew,
Wave wings of yet brighter hue,
And each river's course is roll'd
Over bed of pearl and gold!
Oh! for those lime-scented groves
Where the Spanish lover roves,
Tuning to the western star,
His soft song and light guitar,--
Where the dark hair'd girls are dancing,
Fairies in the moonlight glancing,
With pencill'd brows, and radiant eyes,
Like their planet-lighted skies!
Or those clear Italian lakes
Where the silver cygnet makes
Its soft nest of leaf and flower,
A white lily for its bower!
Each of these a home would be,
Fit for beauty and for me:
I must seek their happier sphere
While the Winter lords it here.
poem by Letitia Elizabeth Landon
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A Lazy Day
THE trees bend down along the stream,
Where anchored swings my tiny boat.
The day is one to drowse and dream
And list the thrush's throttling note.
When music from his bosom bleeds
Among the river's rustling reeds.
No ripple stirs the placid pool,
When my adventurous line is cast,
A truce to sport, while clear and cool,
The mirrored clouds slide softly past.
The sky gives back a blue divine,
And all the world's wide wealth is mine.
A pickerel leaps, a bow of light,
The minnows shine from side to side.
The first faint breeze comes up the tide —
I pause with half uplifted oar,
While night drifts down to claim the shore.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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