Rebirth
A hearty elation sets in
At the sight of a terminal sunset
That shines like the glaze
Of a live-pyre across the river.
I am thrilled all over
By the cool breath
Of a clear and present ecstasy,
Never felt before.
I am hardly curious
And never nervous
About the temporary flickers
Of a cluster of glow-worms
Intermittently winking
Around the village cemetery.
No more I scream
At the sight of a coffin
Full of unshed tears
And abstract remains
Of my premature dreams
Awaiting a quite burial.
Through the smoke-curtain
Of a leafless autumn twilight
I distinctly visualize in the remote sky
An orphaned-star
Pining for the warmth and security
Of a mother’s womb.
Related quotes
The Sky Is High
The sky is high.
I'm thrilled to uplift and pierce,
Through a capacity.
The Sun on me sets a glow.
Deserving of this quickened drift...
I'm in ecstasy!
Something fresh with blessings,
Is going to happen!
Packed all doubts to leave to keep this breeze...
Licking on me.
To soar,
Effortlessly!
The sky is high.
I'm thrilled to uplift and pierce,
Through a capacity.
The Sun on me sets a glow.
Deserving of this quickened drift...
I'm in ecstasy!
Nothing is there to dare my movement.
Aware I am that I've got to fly.
Obstacles small and great are crumbling.
Just like the leaves,
Under my feet.
That fell from the Autumn,
October trees.
The sky is high.
I'm thrilled to uplift and pierce,
Through a capacity.
The Sun on me sets a glow.
Deserving of this quickened drift...
I'm in ecstasy!
And I reach for the sky.
Yes, that sky that's so high!
Something fresh is going to happen!
All doubts are packed...
And ready to leave!
And I lift effortlessly!
The sky is high.
I'm thrilled to uplift and pierce,
Through a capacity.
The Sun on me sets a glow.
Deserving of this quickened drift...
I'm in ecstasy!
The sky is high.
I reach for stars so clear,
A smile appears in my eyes.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Autumn Night
leaves change color
the cool breeze flies
the song of the leaves roars
rustles and bustles in the brush
birds begin to sing to the south
sky turns red as the sun sets on an Autumn evening
clouds not white but pink
coco and cookies all around
coats and children surround
the fire of life
roads and streets quiet
what a sound, what a sight
what a wonderful Autumn night
marsh mellows in fire places
smoke of warmth fills the night sky
sweet Autumn night
make the stars shine bright
the sun rises
the moon disappears
stars that once shone
are now gone
what a night
what a sight
please Autumn day
bring one more
poem by Diana Americano
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Fright
I scream your name at night. My eyes full of tears and fright. From the sight of the lonely night. I’m losing sight. Cause I’m so full of fright. I cry at the sight of the ever lonely night. Cause she is in sight when I look at the night. I'll cry all night with that sight. Because without the light to my night. I’m full of terror and fright. Like a baby born without sight. I will always scream your name in fright. Because she is the light to my darkest of nights. Because I’m full of fight on that night. My heart is losing the fight.
poem by Dennis F. Rigdon Jr.
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Star Shines Bright
No matter how dark things seem around me, my star shines bright…
When there is only Darkness…and no light…
My star shines bright.
When I am out in the night…
My star shines bright.
When there is no sun, moon, or any other star in site.
My star…Shines bright.
Things in my life my not always be fair…
But I have my star and its Sparkling Glare
My Goal is clearly not in sight…
But I can find it, with my star that shines bright.
I can see the light
With my star that shines bright.
My star…
Turns the darkness of the night
Into the sparkling sight
Of the Glimmering Light! !
My star…
Shines bright…
Note:
Please comment! ! ! !
Say what you mean
Mean what you say
Or don’t say nothing at all! !
poem by Abdul Malik Habibalah Wajid Hunter
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Untitled: Iv
once upon a time
long long ago though it
may seem just a moment ago
on a full-moon night
we shared our unshed tears
silently absorbing each others presence
our bodies trembled
within the skin-confines
intermittently
we broke into
all-knowing smiles
the moisture in the eyes
brought more glint to the whites
what mattered that night
was the connect
not related to the routine
mundane world
on this night
i now stand in a puddle
and once again long
to share our unshed tears
on a full-moon night...
17jul2010
01.50hrs
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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A winter sets
A winter sets
~
Winter sets but not in my thoughts
The full ripening sun still stands
Making the bud of my heart open
To the warmth of a love felt
It is her name that the birds sing
Sweetly in the air about me
It is her name woven so deep
That the earth beneath me is holding
Sowing this love into my soul
That I am amongst it all completely
No season is withstanding
Yet this love, this thought remain
As bright and beautiful and flowering
As I could ever imagine
Winter slowly sets into the world
I watch nature slowly yield
Yet it remains breathless
And my heart in fullest bloom
Holds the sun within its sight
And I hear her name, I hear her name
poem by Matthew Holloway
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I Want To Live On An Abstract Plain
Ive had it with this town
I never saw those shifting skies
I never saw the ground
Or the sunset rise
I want to live on an abstract plane
Im building a frame
A place to put my ten-yard stare
Thinking of that paint
Painted in plein-air
I want to live on an abstract plane
I need a new adress
I want some new terrain
Is it north or south?
I want to live on an abstract plain
I could sit on the roof
On top of that abstract house
See my abstract view
An abstract mouse
I want to live on an abstract plane
I need a new adress
Tell me Im not insane
Is it up or down?
I want to live on an abstract plane
song performed by by Frank Black
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tears of the Candle
On my way to this world, I did first see your light
Light that guided the ways of the first pair of hands
that placed me on the bed, be at my mother's side
From the dark little world wherein, before, I was
I saw the tears you shed, knew not what they were for
Were they tears of pity - my life woeful would be
Or were they tears of joy - I would live happily
Again I saw your light, it was baptismal day
Candles in many hands, I heard pledges for me
Again I saw your tears, what for I did not know
Were they for the troubles in life I'll undergo
By your light I acquired knowledge while I grew up
You, watching over me as came and went the nights
And on my wedding day, again I saw your light
Felt the warmth of your glow, warm as the glow of love
Again you shed the tears, both for the two of us
For the joys we would share, or woes we should surpass
The last time you're alight, your light I have not seen
And the warmth of your glow, I now do never feel
As cries and sobs I hear, fall the drops of your tears
I am now on my way and leave this world I will
Never to see your light or feel your warmth again
poem by Pacific Hernandez
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I
I am the son of my village, ,
I am born in the dreams of my father
and my childhood is his craft,
and the blossoming of my mother's garden.
So, often in my journey the fragrances of my village soil nourish me,
the messages of my mother hug me
and I draw warmth.....
I am the definition of my dreams, , ,
dreams those are birth less, ,
dreams ageless, ,
dreams those are indifferent to failure and success..
dreams those can decorate each of life's blank page, , ,
I am my best companion, , ,
Though I cannot hold my own hands, ,
I am my only guide, ,
In each of my failure and victory, ,
I have taken guard and declared to them they
aren't important to me more than myself...
I have invited myself to newness and gifted myself a new quest,
I am my best friend, ,
I am my strongest critic
and I am my deepest lover, , ,
drinking my own blood, sweat and tears, , ,
believe me, I have nullified the chances of betrayal....
I am a lover, , ,
though I have never met love...
for love is a statue and so it stays,
I am son of my village
On the palms of infinite I travel from nowhere to nowhere..
I am the song of the sky, , ,
and my pain is deeper than blue, ,
I have been friend of my father, , ,
and lover of my mother.
I am the son of my village..
So often in the journey
the fragrances of village soil nourish me,
and I draw warmth
Grace Sufficient
Golden fields praise the morning sun
Dreams rise in the cool calm day
Autumn winds blow crisp dried leaves
Blue sky shines and clouds play
November courts my imagination
Walk by the wise river flowing in light
Geese flock for their long journey south
Beauty amongst birch, oak and pine
The frosty glaze of night has melted
Many sea gulls still fish and feed
Green grass thrives on a sunny day
I walk in quiet with thoughts deep
Lately my dreams wake me with tears
So many people lonely and in pain
I miss so many friends that have left
Sometimes it all seems so vain
Why am I still here, my family gone?
Maybe God doesn't want to tell me?
Maybe the plan is revealed in living?
This bright morning shines with joy free
I look up, I know his grace is sufficient
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The shining. For Tara.
It shines.
It shines from the new-born baby;
shines in the magic of birth.
It shines in first love;
in lasting love.
It shines in laughter,
in tears of sadness,
in tears of joy.
It shines in wisdom,
shines in goodness,
shines as beauty.
It shines in the held breath
of the peace of dawn about to break;
it shines in the stillness
of the hour of sunset.
It shines as life.
There is no limit to its shining
except the denying of it
and even then,
it shines
Since you know it so well,
does it need a name?
A name perhaps, to praise?
Nameless, known to all,
beyond all praise,
it shines.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Let me feel the rapture of ecstasy
Let me feel the rapture of ecstasy
Yes, ecstasy, oh sweet, ecstasy
Singing in the night...
Singing in the light...
Mystical, adventure
Mystical, Mountain
Mystical, thunder
Mystical, nature
Oh, toss in the winter
Reign in the spring...
And pass out the summer
Autumn wears a golden ring
But, oh I’ve got a higher delight
When love is in its twilight...
Your world is only a cruel kind of starlight
Mine is simply an ecstasy out of sight.
poem by Mark Heathcote
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As A Day Passes
As The Days Passes
The cemetery on the hill, facing the blue bay, looks inviting in spring sun.
A burial procession is coming up the road, the last one before lunch,
the priest has folded his hands and think of food. As soon as the coffin is
lowered, three the gravediggers go to work.
Kisses, hugs, tears and sober handshakes, the group of mourners break
up, the bereaved needs to eat too. We are because my wife’s mother is
in a hole in the wall with glass door, she came to change the cloth that
covers the coffin, but has forgotten the key.
I think of my mother, she has been dead a long time, memories of her
last years are bleached bones in the human wasteland I have a picture
of her when she was young and can now see, she a woman too, I cherish
my memories of that time. She had a difficult life, enough said.
Why do people drink? I drink to ease the yoke of my own mortality and
the whispering voice that mocks me. After a bottle of wine the evening
floats by, like a pink cloud on the sky, the scornful voice tires itself out
and falls silent, and softly now life is beautiful and full of dreams.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Another Kind Of Epitaph
The time I died first, there were days upon days
while you cried, remembering my unique ways.
I rose up and up high above the cemetery wall
while then I could fly and everything beneath looked small,
but back to mother earth I had to go, where I felt the new rain
while very slow, worms on me started to gnaw without any pain.
When my next funeral came, you graciously wanted to put me to sleep
you did not want the general type of burial where they would bury me deep
but to the fire you wanted me to go, to experience the flames of hell
and over the sea, the veldt my ashes you did blow and with tears wished me well.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Sacrifice
I gave an eye to save from night
A babe born blind;
And now with eager semi-sight
Vast joy I find
To think a child can share with me
Earth ecstasy!
Delight of dawn with dewy gleam
On damask rose;
Crimson and gold as pennons stream
Where sunset flows;
And sight most nigh to paradise,
Star-studded skies.
Ah! How in old of age I feel,
E'er end my days,
Could I star-splendoured sky reveal
To childish gaze,
Not one eye would I give, but two,--
Well, wouldn't you?
poem by Robert William Service
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The Source
The sleep that flits on baby's eyes-does anybody know from where
it comes? Yes, there is a rumour that it has its dwelling where,
in the fairy village among shadows of the forest dimly lit with
glow-worms, there hang two shy buds of enchantment. From there it
comes to kiss baby's eyes.
The smile that flickers on baby's lips when he sleeps-does
anybody know where it was born? Yes, there is a rumour that a young
pale beam of a crescent moon touched the edge of a vanishing autumn
cloud, and there the smile was first born in the dream of a dew
washed morning-the smile that flickers on baby's lips when he
sleeps.
The sweet, soft freshness hat blooms on baby's limbs-does
anybody know where it was hidden so long? Yes, when the mother was
a young girl it lay pervading her heart in tender and silent
mystery of love-the sweet, soft freshness that has bloomed on
baby's limbs.
poem by Rabindranath Tagore
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Thrilled By The Cold
I have thrilled, past was present, we were stock-still,
Stoic people were like us, rather longer in health;
But we were still like the ice in stillness,
Stiffly sticking to the air, of bad warmth.
I have mounted on a mountainous mule,
A mule of worth, such a donkey for me,
This trail leads south where the river arrives,
We cross a bridge too well, we are this mountain.
I am losing more men, and we are now again still,
Stigmatized by the cold, and the flu had arrived.
My mighty river so bold, was against me for a long time,
Rivers attached to my writing were indeed mighty.
Bad warmth was the ritualistic belief,
A little cold does no good, I am not thrilled!
poem by Naveed Akram
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The Nightingale
WHEN twilight's grey and pensive hour
Brings the low breeze, and shuts the flower,
And bids the solitary star
Shine in pale beauty from afar;
When gathering shades the landscape veil,
And peasants seek their village-dale,
And mists from river-wave arise,
And dew in every blossom lies;
When evening's primrose opes, to shed
Soft fragrance round her grassy bed;
When glow-worms in the wood-walk light
Their lamp, to cheer the traveller's sight;
At that calm hour, so still, so pale,
Awakes the lonely Nightingale;
And from a hermitage of shade
Fills with her voice the forest-glade.
And sweeter far that melting voice,
Than all which through the day rejoice;
And still shall bard and wanderer love
The twilight music of the grove.
Father in Heaven! oh! thus when day
With all its cares hath passed away,
And silent hours waft peace on earth,
And hush the louder strains of mirth;
Thus may sweet songs of praise and prayer
To Thee my spirit's offering bear;
Yon star, my signal, set on high,
For vesper-hymns of piety.
So may thy mercy and thy power
Protect me through the midnight hour;
And balmy sleep and visions blest
Smile on thy servant's bed of rest.
poem by Felicia Dorothea Hemans
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A Foolish Star
A very young star was winking one night,
It captured an audience way below its sight.
It was above, its subjects below,
It had to reach them with a captive show.
How could it span the great distance in space,
So the earth would always recognize this star's face?
There was also the moon it had to outshine,
It wanted to be able to say, the universe is mine.
The star figured out if it turned on the charm,
It would be applauded and adored by all who were born.
It got carried away with its last encore,
It's final, awesome sight was a falling star.
All through time, the greatest of all,
Was not missed till its downfall.
Then it was forgotten and lost in space,
Because another upcoming star took its place.
poem by Kristin Nicole RothDavis
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Every Breath
I see you runnin and it's all over now
The devil's comin and he's showin us how
He's goin down on the street light
It's such a cool sight
The lizard king is here and where are you now?
The monkey brain is here he's showing us how
He's goin down on the cool right
And I am loosing sight..and...
Every breath is like the one before
Yeah it's like the one before
You get it right you breathe no more
Sold my shadow on the blackest of nights
Sometimes it pushed me right out of the light
It's going down on the cool right and I am losing
Your're here to tempt me and it's all I can do
To keep from running just to try something new
I'm goin down on the cool ride and i am right behind...and..
Every breath is like the one before
Yeah it's like the one before
You get it right you breathe no more
No more
No more
Every breath is like the one before
Yeah it's like the one before
You get it right you breathe no more
Every breath is like the one before
Yeah it's like the one before
You bank on it you breathe no more
No more
song performed by by Tracy Bonham from The Burdens Of Being Upright
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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