Tempestuous sky
THE SKY IS DARK AND VIOLENT
HERE AND THERE A PATCH OF GREY
YOU CAN'T TELL IF IT'S NIGHT OR DAY
IMAGES APPEAR AND DISAPPEAR
AS THE MINDS PRIMEVAL INSTINCTS STRUGGLE TO BE CALM
GARGOYLES AND DEMONS THAT WOULD BE SURE TO HARM
HARRIED CLOUDS RACE ON, CHANGING THEIR SHAPE
IN A BID TO ESCAPE
IT WOULD BE THE YOUNG BIRD THAT FINDS HIMSELF ON THE WING
LITTLE REALISING THIS IS NO TIME TO SING
HOOFED ANIMALS TAKEN ALOFT, SHOULD BE FIRMLY PLANTED ON THE GROUND
MR WIND TAKES IT'S BREATH AWAY SO IT MAKES NO SOUND
HAVING SHOWN IT'S CAPACITY FOR FURY
THE WIND DISSIPATES GIVING OTHER ELEMENTS A GO
IT WON'T BE HAPPY AS ALL COME OUT TO PLAY
WHEN THE SUN BRIGHTENS THIS DISMAL DAY
poem by Brian Roy Skyers
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Related quotes
Sonnet: The Wind
What shakes the trees so violently? ’Tis Wind;
What moves the clouds hither/ thither? ’Tis Wind;
What takes the tornado around? ’Tis Wind;
What brings the sandstorm on the earth? ’Tis Wind.
What makes the cool and gentle breeze? ’Tis Wind
What makes the boughs and leaves to dance? ’Tis Wind;
What makes the autumn leaves to fall? ’Tis Wind;
What makes the honey-bees to fly? ’Tis Wind.
What makes pollen reach in showers? ’Tis Wind;
What makes the dust to climb towers? ’Tis Wind;
What spreads the perfume of flowers? ’Tis Wind;
What makes the rain-clouds advance far? ’Tis Wind.
What makes the Wind to blow? ’Tis God;
What makes a Tempest stop? ’ Tis our Lord.
7-18-2001
poem by John Celes
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The Shape of the Wind...
The arctic blasts turn men into plaster casts,
They take the shape of the wind.
The ragged sails lashed by the gales,
Are full of the the shape of the wind.
The shrewd and wise, with half closed eyes,
Can guess the way of the wind.
They bend and bow, and go with the flow,
They take the shape of the wind.
The evening fires make crooked spires,
As they give way to the shape of the wind.
My ice cold breath meets it’s sudden death,
As it takes the shape of the wind.
And all our life, with all it’s strife,
Is nought but the shape of the wind.
So no longer resist, just desist,
And accept the shape of the wind.
poem by John Coldwell
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Summer's Wind
You are the wind on a hot summer’s day
That cools off the air
Surrounding my body
You are the wind in my hair
As I walk down the street
You are the wind
That blows through my dreams
And awakens me to feelings
Of living and smiling
You are the wind
In which my hair rises
And my breath quickens
As my smile lifts
You are the wind
On a hot summer’s day
You are the sun
In which I need
To stay warm
You are the moon
In which I need
To read at night
You are the sun
In which brightens the day
To show me the way
To your arms
You are the moon
In which I need
To see the starts
To gaze under
You are the wind
On a hot summer’s day
You are the wind
That cools off the air
And helps so I can smile again
You are the wind
In which I feel
Your simple touch
Which makes me yield
You are the wind
In which I stop
And feel, calm, relaxed
And realize I am alive
You are the wind
On a hot summer’s day
That makes me realize
Life
Might just be
Ok
poem by Scarred Unknown
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In A Cold Wind
In a cold wind
in a night wind,
under a yellow street-light,
its paleness and the dark night.
Leaves blown past,
down the wind, cast
onto the silent roadway,
or in heaps, on the footway.
The houses that rise
into grey skies,
windows with drawn curtains,
facing onto pale gardens.
Slow in the sky,
the clouds moving by;
on the ground, the shadows blurred,
the whistling wind heard.
And the wind that blows
comes not, nor goes.
In this night, its sound
wraps all around.
Not here alone,
its long low drone,
along endless fences and hedges,
insidiously edges.
Now is the hour,
now is the closing of the flower,
an end to approaching and retreating,
to losing and defeating,
in a cold wind,
in a night wind,
on a corner of a cold street,
where all directions meet.
poem by Rory Hudson
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The Greening Of America
Shes closing all the shades
She finds the daylight just a little freighting
She pulls the peddles overhead each day
But shes opening her business is blooming nightly
And every time it does it gets me tazy
The color of her head changing every day
A little breath of wind and I just go crazy
The greening of americas progressing smoothly
Cuz shes choosing me
Its later then I said
And all the worlds a shade of black and purple
Everybody else has gone to bed
But when she makes me happy I just fly in circles
And every time she does I just get teary
The color of head changing everyday
A little puff of wind and shes always near me
The greening of america is progressing nicely
Its all right with me
Ba ba ba ba na na na na na etc.
If theres another life, and if get to chose Id like
To be a daisy
Ill stay up waiting for my dusky wife
To open and get high with just my jasmine baby
And every time she does it gets me crazy
The color of her head changing every day
A little breath of wind and I just get crazy
The greening of americas progressing nicely
Its all right with me-every time she does, just get teary
The color of her head changing every day
A little breath of wind and shes always near me
The greening of americas progressing smoothly
Cuz shes choosing me
song performed by by Counting Crows
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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28 Wind Poems
Wind chimes play not on time... but when the Spirit moves.
The South Wind has for the evening donned jasmine scent*
*
The wind weaves many white caps so quickly for the blue sea
*
Mother Wind moves the water rocker
to and fro on the stormy sound's deeps. On the boatcradle by lapping
waves she is softly lulled to sleep.
*
Will, your winded wings will win.
*
Clouds' whitewaterweave covered the sky.. and yet
everywhere there was a patch of blue.. it was a different
hue... here aqua.. there cerulean... or teal or indigo
*
The east wind blowing westward marries the falling rain
turning her attention elsewhere
*
Crosswinds quilt the Connecticut River ever so slightly
but stil the waters flow to the sea.
*
As gauzy veils lie on the shoulders of the slender, as avalanche
clouds pour through tall firs, as morning mist
rolls through ship masts, do monsoon clouds flow
over the peaks of the Himalayas
*
Froggie croaks on his rock dais encircled by dizzy daisies
throughout summer days. The wind makes them wave in applause.
*
The wind has blown away the cloud cover..
and he pond's reflection from grey to blue clover
*
Spirit Wind when talking with wind chimes
strikes not on the hour nor at the 'right' time
================================= ===
poem by Saiom Shriver
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She Likes The Dark
She likes the dark
It keeps her sane
She likes the dark
It makes the maddness go away
She likes the dark it keeps her calm
It makes the anger disappear
She likes the dark
It's just like night
when the owls come hoot in fright
for there is a man
they, even fear
who wears a mask
of gostly haunts,
of tied up children
when he's drunk from beer,
of scars that come from the old mans knife
that keeps stabbing into her life,
the pain, he says, its just a game
win or lose you will still play
She likes the dark
It keeps her sane
It makes the maddness go away
She likes the dark
It keeps her calm
It makes the anger dissappear
but what happens
oh tell me when
the light comes on
giving equal advantage
will she sit and play the game
or will she lose her senses?
poem by Ashley Meier
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On Hearing A Grey Shrike Thrush Singing In The Rain
The grey thrush sing on branch of mountain gray
At twilight of a most Unspring like day
On October evening made damp by drizzling rain
And grey bird sing his same song o'er again.
And freshening wind has breath of winter sting
Seems more like Winter now than middle Spring
And wind driven rain fall from the darkening sky
And still the grey thrush pipes his notes of joy.
I wonder why he sing so merrily
On low down branch of noble gray gum tree
Could it be that he can tell from inner eye
That tomorrow's weather will be warm and dry?
Or could he sing that in some nearby tree
His wife on nest shelter new family?
And he tell his neighbours this my territory
And I'm now a dad 'oh lucky happy me'.
And why he sing should it matter anyway
His song at close of wet October day?
The weather dreary for the time of year
But grey thrush's notes sweet music to my ears.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Clouds Of My Life
There moves the cloud
with the wind that blows
So bright and white
like the pages of my life…
I sit near the window
and watch those clouds
That shows me the way
my life is being shaped…
Never was I able to
see the clouds
Have the same shape
in every minute of my life…
Why does this happen
is what I think
But everyday is not the same
is what it says to me…
I see the winds
blow off the clouds
Which makes me think
when will my life be blown off? ...
It's hard to see
black clouds coming in between
Making my worst fears
strike into my mind…
It rains day and night
making me feel happy and sad
Happy to see the black clouds fading
but sad about losing the clouds…
Dreams of mine takes
shape in the clouds
Always showing me the face
of the person I like…
It always reminds me
my life is in world's hands
No matter how hard I try
can't change the fate of my life…
It's nice to see the clouds
every morning I wake up
This reminds me there is still a day
because I see the "Clouds of my Life"…
poem by Sowkoor Nischal Shetty
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Listen to the wind
Listen to the tranquil sonatas of the
Low blowing breeze and you'll think here
Is Mozart descended from Heaven to
Bring merriment to your happy heart
Listen to the wind as the mighty
Wind rocks the young of spirit
The wind will rock you and live you
Panting for more
Hear the sound of the great blowing wind
The wind is strong
The wind plays the majestic symphonies
To keep you spellbound and you will
Be enchanted by the spirit of the
The great cacophony of the myriads of
The the sheer ferocity of the souring
Lyrics of the almighty conquering wind
And you'll wish you too was blessed
To be born earlier and know how Beethoven
Came to compose the great symphonies
For he too must have been enchanted by
The sound of the high spirited blowing wind
The wind has a new melody to gladden your
Happy heart and your kind spirit with
Listen with an open mind and a clean soul
This exquisite melody the loving wind dedicates
Exclusively for you to immortalize you and
They'll remember you whose name is fused into
The song and make you live on five hundred more
Years after you have long departed from this earth
Appreciate the haunting mourning sound of the
Brooding wind and learn to live with it
The wind is God's greatest grand gift to Humanity
The life giving air you breath is His breath
That gives meaning for your being here
poem by Ngaka Motaung
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Wind Eternal And Ever Lasting Wind
Wind eternal and ever lasting Wind
Wherever on earth..there is the element wind
How powerful the strength of the wind
Uplifting a tremendeous deadly tidal wave
Pushing heavy clouds over mountain chain
Magically turning into heavy storm and rain
How fascinating the songs of the wind
Carrying up high the bird on spread wings
Looking almost like the shape of a fairy
So incredibly languishing and airy
How wonderful the feeling of decreasing wind
Blowing incessantly through the season of spring
Blooming flowers seem to shiver in a dance
As falling into a very special kind of trance
How enchanting to play with the wind
The heat blow still lingers
Kite surfs speeding up to be safe
Sails boat surfing on the crown of the wave
How subdued when watching the wind
Reminder of natural forces
Elements like earth wind and fire
For sure they will never ever tire
Wind eternal and ever lasting wind
wherever on earth..there is the element wind…..
poem by Morhardt Carmen Mencita Monoi Angel
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Just To Let You Know
i am in an island
and i am in the middle of a struggle
the sound of the wind is not a song
for it is weeping
the sea has become a big mystery
the clouds as usual drift and unconcerned
the sun this morning comes
bringing me the sad news of a destruction
i sit upon the silence of the sands
figuring out the shape of a boat that must soon
take me away from here
out there there must be another island
where i can escape away from you
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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This Little Bird
John d loudermilk
Theres a little bird that somebody sends
Down to the earth to live on the wind.
Born on the wind and he sleeps on the wind
This little bird that somebody sends.
Hes light and fragile and feathered sky blue,
So thin and graceful the sun shines through.
This little bird who lives on the wind,
This little bird that somebody sends.
He flies so high up in the sky
Out of reach of human eye.
And the only time that he touches the ground
Is when that little bird
Is when that little bird
Is when that little bird dies.
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On Hearing A Grey Shrike Thrush
The grey shrike thrush on branch of mountain gray
At twilight of a most Unspring like day
On October eve made damp by drizzling rain
And grey bird sing his same song o'er again
And freshening wind has breath of winter sting
Seems more like Winter now than middle Spring
And wind driven rain fall from the darkening sky
And still the gray thrush pipes his notes of joy.
I wonder why he sing so merrily
On low down branch of noble gray gum tree
Could it be that he can tell from inner eye
That tomorrow's weather will be warm and dry? .
Or could he sing that in some nearby tree
His wife on nest shelter new family
And he tell his neighbours this my territory
And I'm now a dad 'oh lucky happy me'? .
And why he sing should it matter anyway
His song at close of wet October day
The weather dreary for the time of year
But grey thrush's notes sweet music to the ear.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Dark Lord
The Dark Lord
Only where the summer fails
With wilderness around
Only where the shadow sails
And the wind there makes no sound
Only where the light of day
Pierced seldom from the sky
Is where you find a grey faced man
Whose age deceives the eye
His image is not young or old
He looks up to the sky
He tells you of dark stories told
Dark lands which howl and cry
And evil thoughts
From evil minds
In evil lands
The dark one’s rise
Shrink back in fear their power unfolds
Dark faces creep for distant holds
No one yet could check the rise
Of one dark lord and his darkest ties
His shadow covers every land
From tree to dale
From dale to sand
Under the wing of his dark veil
His servants serve and never fail
Too late, you see it now through his disguise
This mans the dark lord darkness fills the skies
poem by Stephen Holland
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Grey, Grey Sky
Someday I will ride the great bird
Into the sky, into the grey
And will take a bright secret of mine
Into the grey, grey sky.
And the light will come, piercing my eyes
Out of the sky, out of the grey
Come blinding and searing these eyes
Out of the grey, grey sky.
And I will find comfort in this
In the wide sky, in the wide grey
In the painful dark brightness of light
Light of the grey, grey sky.
My secret will fly away home
Into the sky, into the grey
And the great bird will follow it there
Into the grey, grey sky.
And I will be riding that bird
Bird of the sky, bird of the grey
And I will come home once again
Home to the grey, grey sky.
But for now I am weighted, earthbound
One of the mud, one of the ground
And I write this sad song to sad sound
Girl of the pavement sighs.
poem by Grace Hutton
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From Where I Come From
slopes of the
mountains
and a small patch
of a plain
on the side
of the river
where the grasses
thicken
like armpits
there is
a hut there
and some
trees around
years
and years
we stayed there
like there is no other
home for us
but then
time comes and
leaving becomes
a must for
each of us
we left and
we followed the
direction of the
wind towards
the sea of our
freedom
and here i
am
writing about
what my
ancestors
thought
leave and take
a journey
and find the
real path
the meaning
that we attach
to ourselves
to the direction
of the wind
towards the sea
and then
do not ever
think of the patch
of plain again
or the grasses
it is the wind
that leads us
the wind
the wind and nothing but
the sound of
the wind
freedom.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Anemos Cries With The Wolf
The lightening clashes in the sky
thunder roars
rain crashes to the ground
dark clouds consume the all
a cursive wind blows
critters take warning
Luna has vanished
midnight is upon us
wind chimes sing
leaves dance in the wind to their tune
the anemoi are displeased
their howls echo
the wind has a mind of it's own
It calls to me
guides me
a wolf crawls from his den
as untamed as anemos
he cries to the moon
Sol soon begins to rise
breathless and tired
the wolf stumbles back to his den
and awaits another moonless night to sing his lonely song
poem by by unknown author
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There will come
There will come upon the earth, calm spring time
When soft rains fall and raise the adores of wet ground
And flowers leap and bloom into their prime
As the swallows circle and bounce in vast meadows, shimmering sound
And no one will know of my time under the sun
And no one will reflect or contemplate of my days, not one
Not even one would mind, neither happy bird on a bough tree
That I have perished; erased diminished with no memory utterly
Come red black Robins and wear your feathery fire,
Whistling your whims on a low summer wind stirring fence-wire
And fat oily frogs in a garden pool, sing your rhythm all night
And tree heavy with late season foliage play the wind that turn you white
The world will go on as we do when an acquaintance dies
We hurry to burry and move as if it never concerns our fates; blinding our eyes
Oh that first Spring after death, herself when she wakes at dawn
Minding her course would scarcely notice that we were gone.
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Intuition
My intentions are good, I use my intuition
It takes me for a ride
But I never understood other peoples superstitions
It seemed like suicide
As I play the game of life
I try to make it better each and every day
And when I struggle in the night
The magic of the music seems to light the way
Ah, intuition takes me there
Intuition takes me everywhere
Well my instincts are fine
I had to learn to use them in order to survive
And time after time confirmed an old suspicion
Its good to be alive
And when Im deep down and out and lose communication
With nothing left to say
Its then I realize its only a condition
Of seeing things that way
Ah, intuition takes me there
Intuition takes me anywhere
(takes me anywhere, alright)
Ah, intuition takes me there
Intuition takes me there
Intuition takes me there
Intuition takes me there
Intuition takes me there
Intuition takes me there
song performed by by Lennon John
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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