Sic Transeunt Tempora
Pushing up,
amongst rust-brown
and green furze,
glowing blue from within,
Michaelmas daisies
(who know nothing of Michael – nor his mass) .
But now, as the earth spins
in a darker, colder, windier orbit,
their leaves are brittle-green,
or hang like red spears
waiting to fall
and take their place
in next year’s compost.
Dry flower-heads
shrink in on themselves.
Like old men,
in extra large overcoats
tensing into scarves
and turned up collars,
to keep in their little warmth.
These too wait to take their place
in next year’s bonfire.
I remember
the closing sequences
of the Seventh Seal:
men and women, caught
in a maze of interdependence,
led away in a disjointed dance by Death.
Only two escaped:
one, a visionary
of little sense;
the other a woman of sense
but little vision.
poem by Brian Taylor
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Related quotes
The Red And Green Sky
There’s a place I’d never thought I’d show ya
It’s been so long since this space was found, as
We as people, walk with our heads firmly in the ground,
But at the end of the day your heads held up and away
So follow my steps and I’ll show you,
It’s not all the same at the end of the day, I promise you
Do you notice the sky up ahead?
“Where have all the greys and blues gone
You said, nothing looks the same”
But you’re in an unknown place,
A place with no need to name,
Underneath the red and green sky
Upon a mountain cliff, made of gold
You life played out before you,
A picture of revolving, glowing mold
Then whisked off into the sky, you left,
Whereabouts too is unknown,
Into the red and green sky you head,
Maybe being shown a brand new start
Away from the pain of life, where
Things start to make sense once again,
Now you see your life mend then blend
Into the red and green sky you went.
Returning regally re-dressed, you seem renewed,
The red and green sky did again, I thought.
As you stood, amazed by the truth, you spoke,
“Never to be the same again, never again”
We shared some strawberry wine,
To amuse ourselves
We drink to ourselves, to the sky
Underneath the red and green sky again
This is a place I’d never thought I’d show again
It’s been so long since this space was found
A place with no need to name,
Underneath the red and green sky, we came
poem by Daniel Richards
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Strawberry Wine
He was working through college on my grandpa's farm.
I was thirsting for knowledge and he had a car.
I was caught somewhere between a woman and a child.
One restless summer we found love growing wild.
On the banks of the river on a well beaten path.
It's funny how those memories they last.
Like strawberry wine and seventeen.
The hot July moon saw everything.
My first taste of love oh bittersweet.
Green on the vine.
Like strawberry wine.
I still remember when thirty was old.
And my biggest fear was September when he had to go.
A few cards and letters and one long distance call.
We drifted away like the leaves in the fall.
But year after year I come back to this place.
Just to remember the taste.
Of strawberry wine and seventeen.
The hot July moon saw everything.
My first taste of love oh bittersweet.
Green on the vine.
Like strawberry wine.
The fields have grown over now.
Years since they've seen the plow.
There's nothing time hasn't touched.
Is it really him or the loss of my innocence.
I've been missing so much.
Like strawberry wine and seventeen.
The hot July moon saw everything.
My first taste of love oh bittersweet.
Green on the vine.
Like strawberry wine.
song performed by by Dixie Chicks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Changes
Seasons may change, we stay the same.
We always stay the same.
We always stay the same.
Winter brings snow, when no, no flowers grow.
They wait for the spring.
Yes, they wait til the spring.
In the spring, young men grow.
til theyre old enough to know,
Better.
Better.
Leaves have turned green, now spring has been
And gone
Summers here.
The autumn trees swing to and fro.
Their leaves turn brown,
Now young men know
Better.
Better.
[just let me listen to that.]
Evryone one feels good
And I knew they would.
Its been quite a good year.
Its been quite a good year.
Its been quite a good year.
song performed by by Monkees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Another Satellite
My heart is taken its not lost in space
And I dont want to see your mooney mooney face
I say why on earth do you revolve around me
Arent you aware of the gravity
Dont need another satellite
Im happy standing on my feet of clay
I have no wish to swim your milky milky way
I say why on earth do you send your letters round here
Only to gum up the atmosphere
Dont need another satellite
So circling well orbit another year
Two worlds that wont collide
So circling well orbit another year
Moon still tries to steal the tide away
Dont need another satellite
Dont need another satellite
Abort your mission lets just say you tried
Before you glimpse I have a darker darker side
I say why in heavens name do you come on these trips
Only to freeze in a total eclipse
Dont need another satellite
So circling well orbit another year
Two worlds that wont collide
So circling well orbit another year
Moon still tries to steal the tide away
Dont need another satellite
Dont need another satellite
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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New Year
WHITE year, white year,
Muffled soft in snow,
A diamond spray whose gems are gone
Before their grace we know,
A crystal-coated spray whose hours
Melt when looked upon,
Hoarfrost stars and hoarfrost flowers,
White year!
Green year, green year,
Sweet with sun and showers,
A windblown spray whose blossoms bright
Are the seven-colored hours,
A dancing spray whose leaves are days,
A spray whose leaves delight
In azure gleam and silver haze,
Green year!
New Year, new year
From rosy leaf to gold,
A shining spray on the Tree of Time
Where myriad sprays unfold,
A spray so fair that God may see
And gather it, bloom and rime,
To deck the doors of Eternity,
New Year!
poem by Katharine Lee Bates
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The (Sixth) Sense
The gray cloudy sky scream(ing) s
Only icy clouds throw down their hail-on the earth-
To kill the green (belt) with their viole(n) t dance-
And (to) red(d) (the) shadowy earth- still cries-we are alive-
Throwing up all its war(ren) shadows to the sky
To reach the per(im) manent heaven with their painful sacrifice.
The heaven strenuously may (h) eat the pain (through)
In silence- we are existent-we feel the pain-
The last remnants of the green may rustle in the leaves
Trying to soak into the rotten yellow.
The blue may (stage) whisper in the breeze,
Holding the memories of the past.
Voices from extra dimensions
(I live adding new dimensions to my life)
And psychedelic visions
May irreversibly modify the (sixth) sense of the reality.
poem by Marieta Maglas
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Visions
People hand in hand
Have I lived to see the milk and honey land?
Where hates a dream and love forever stands
Or is this a vision in my mind?
The law was never passed
But somehow all men feel theyre truly free at last.
Have we really gone this far through space and time
Or is this a vision in my mind?
Im not one who make believes
I know that leaves are green
They only turn to brown when autumn comes around
I know just what I say
Todays not yesterday
And all things have an ending
But what Id like to know
Is could a place like this exist so beautiful
Or do we have to find our wings and fly away
To the vision in our mind?
Im not one who make believes
I know that leaves are green
They only change to brown when autumn comes around
I know just what I say
Todays not yesterday
And all things have an ending
But what Id like to know
Is could a place like this exist so beautiful
Or do we have to take our wings and fly away
To the vision in our mind?
song performed by by Stevie Wonder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Blue-Tinted Lizard
There's a blue-tinted lizard on the redbrick wall,
Where the green ivy grows and the brown leaves fall,
'O it's such a pleasant day, ' say my playful little parents,
'Why don't you go outside where the brown leaves fall.'
But I'm so tired all the time in my redbrick house,
And all I see when I look out is where that blue-tinted lizard used
to slither on the wall,
Where the green ivy grows and the brown leaves fall.
poem by Joshua Dinkin
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Deep Blue Heart
Written by John Mellencamp
Daylight is leaving
And the night is closing in
In just a few hours
The sleeplessness begins again
My head feels thick
And I'm unable to think
I guess I'll wait 'til tomorrow
And see what it brings
I have a little hope left
And I guess that's someplace to start
But my memory's full
Of a deep blue heart.
My fun-loving sense of humor
Is nowhere to be found
I stare into my own eyes
With tears flowing down
I'd sing out a song
But I've forgotten the tune
And the words now escape me
But I think it's about you
My vision now is way out in the dark
With just a little sight left
Of a deep blue heart
I see us both flying
In the clear blue sky
Floating out on the ocean
With the sun in our eyes
Caught in a moment
Just me and you
In complete honesty
Where everything is true
That's what I wanted to believe
Right from the start
Just a little place for myself
In a deep blue heart
Carve out a place for myself
In your deep blue heart
song performed by by John Mellencamp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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New For Old
Bud blisters into life
Stretching for the light
Unfolding radiant green
Upturned palm to the sun
Life seeping in, breathing out
Green, Green so Green
Resurrected hope, so Green
Summer breeze stroking
Branches ebb and flow
Leaves so Green strong now
Fear not wind of change
Mellow summer turns
Green, green, green-yellow
Yellow area of dieing heart
Green lingers no more
Limp transparent yellow
Barely a breeze takes one
Fierce Hyde-like wind now
Cracking and ripping
Wind torn leaves fall
Life chords snapped
Death too early, still Green
Nourishment broken not ended
Seasons build up to tear down
To build up, to tear down
Leaves fall, Green leaves fall
And then some more
Until leaves are falling, falling
Trees and branches revealed
In the x-ray of autumn blast
Winter is coming
Winter is coming
Yellow pale yellow carpet
Beneath the naked tree
Yellow, mulchy brown
Once crisp leaves scatter
Green, yellow, transparent veins
Tired, half dead, leaves lose their grip
Join the autumn rain soaked mound
Providing new life to the roots
Old for new, New for Old
Seeds buried in death
Bring new life in Spring
In the end is the beginning.
poem by Adrian Wait
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Spring
Wake up again, sad heart, wake up again !
(I heard the birds this morning singing sweet.)
Wake up again ! The sky was crystal clear,
And washed quite clean with rain ;
And tar below my heart stirred with the year,
Stirred with the year and sighed. O pallid feet
Move now at last, O heart that sleeps with pain
Rise up and hear
The voices in the valleys, run to meet
The songs and shadows. O wake up again !
Put out green leaves, dead tree, put out green leaves t
(Last night the moon was soft and kissed the air.)
Put out green leaves ! The moon was in the skies,
All night she wakes and weaves.
The dew was on the grass like fairies' eyes,
Like fairies' eyes. O trees so black and bare,
Remember all the fruits, the full gold sheaves;
For nothing dies,
The songs that are, are silences that were,
Summer was Winter. O put but green leaves!
Break through the earth, pale flower, break through the earth !
(All day the lark has sung a madrigal.)
Break through the earth that lies not lightly yet
And waits thy patient birth,
Waits for the jonquil and the violet,
The violet. Full soon the heavy pall
Will be a bed, and in the noon of mirth
Some rivulet
Will bubble in my wilderness, some call
Will touch my silence. O break through the earth.
poem by Lord Alfred Douglas
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Across the Green Fields
Across the green fields
Up on the bluffs
High into the sky
A place I didn’t realize existed
Montana
Yes green
Once in a drought
It now is green from pounding rain.
God’s country again
It looks like a different place
No brown desert prairies
No desolate fields
It’s green now
A beautiful velvety green.
poem by Marilyn Lott
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Hurricane Watch
Green. Green the leaves,
and waves gray on the forehead of the beach.
As easy as breeze tensing lengths of hair
waves lift, then snap back like springs.
Trees bend and kneel, fling out brown arms
to catch their running children.
Green. Green the leaves, and wind
pours on the forehead of the beach.
See how sand wrinkles in the lee,
and anchors part like lovers
from invisible chains. Ships break
then run their length to freedom.
Green. Green the weeds,
and sea foams on the forehead of the beach.
Women’s names swim to greet the waves.
And sea sings, “Eve. Eve. Eve.” Mermaid
who set her cap for them, she beckons each
figurehead to her pale and smiling reach.
Green. Green the waves,
and spray glistening on the forehead of the beach.
Her arms catch and embrace hulls like shoulders.
Bold as dolphins they leap to her lips before she
slaps away the face of any sailor so foolish.
Gray. Gray the waves, and flotsam
in pieces grinding on the wet stones of the beach.
poem by Val Morehouse
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Bitter Green
Upon the bitter green she walked the hills above the town
Echo to her footsteps as soft as eider down
Waiting for her master to kiss away her tears
Waiting through the years
Bitter green they called her
Walking in the sun
Loving everyone that she met
Bitter green they called her
Waiting in the sun
Waiting for someone to take her home
Some say he was a sailor who died away at sea
Some say he was a prisoner who never was set free
Lost upon the ocean he died there in the mist
Dreaming of her kiss
Bitter green they called her
Walking in the sun
Loving everyone that she met
Bitter green they called her
Waiting in the sun
Waiting for someone to take her home
But now the bitter green is gone, the hills have turned to rust
There comes a weary stranger, his tears fall in the dust
Kneeling by the churchyard in the autumn mist
Dreaming of a kiss
Bitter green they called her
Walking in the sun
Loving everyone that she met
Bitter green they called her
Waiting in the sun
Waiting for someone to take her home
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Fields Of Flanders
Last year the fields were all glad and gay
With silver daisies and silver may;
There were kingcups gold by the river's edge
And primrose stars under every hedge.
This year the fields are trampled and brown,
The hedges are broken and beaten down,
And where the primroses used to grow
Are little black crosses set in a row.
And the flower of hopes, and the flowers of dreams,
The noble, fruitful, beautiful schemes,
The tree of life with its fruit and bud,
Are trampled down in the mud and the blood.
The changing seasons will bring again
The magic of Spring to our wood and plain;
Though the Spring be so green as never was seen
The crosses will still be black in the green.
The God of battles shall judge the foe
Who trampled our country and laid her low. . . .
God! hold our hands on the reckoning day,
Lest all we owe them we should repay
poem by Edith Nesbit
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Green, green and green
I want a holiday with a scene
Of green, green and green
A summer of green trees
A landscape of green grass
A view full of green vegetables
The colour green
Is a beauty that must be seen!
From a moving vehicles screen
And while we hold onto those machines
That deprives us of the colour green
Remember they provide us vaccines
As well as help the air to be clean
So for green, green and green
I will travel continents across and in-between
And also to any place that I have never been
I will make it routine
Just to see green, green and green
Copyright 2006 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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The DanCe
Sitting on a shady hill, a trunk that kissed the ground,
Leaves in glimmery green, wild flowers scents mixes air in profound,
Clouds smoothly moving, the sky turning blue
And trace of the moon is still on cue...
Birds chirping, echoes of water falls is drifting
The DANCE echoed from the hidden speakers, soothing,
Sudden navigation of thoughts flashes back
As rhythm of the DANCe leaves a trance of the past...
A place like this away from the busy commotion of the streets
The first time I laid my feet, felt the happiness, I danced with grace.
As the man turned the stereo on, the DANCe filled the air,
Lifted my spirit to unexplainable joy, I flipped and swayed....
The DANCe of life I had for four years now
Tiring but rewarding of the fulfillment it brings,
Though hurtful events tattood in my heart and mind,
Looking back, it made me a better person and I'm greatful with that.
Now, I still have the DANCe laid on air
Still working out to learn from it and prepare,
My future, I may not know what lies ahead
Yet I am sure, I will DANCe, follow it's rhythm as it flows thru the air....
And as I close my eyes, I see the sun slowly sets
A bonfire slowly lit the place, the DANCe still has it's trace,
I stood, feeling the beat...opening my arms, wrapping on mine
Dancing in it's beat...waiting for the DANCe to cease...
Many dances I have shared with
Even dances with wolves, I have made,
Slow-fast, sensual-rock, salsa-tango-samba, name it I can
But one DANCe is missing which my heart screams....
The DANCe in solemn peace...soul that scream and weep...
Inner peace, inner DANCe of hope and faith...
And from HIS place, one day,
I would have the DANCe I long to have...
poem by InNer WhisPers
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Waiting For Changes
Office blocks, corner shops, traffic jams on every street, the same old rush around
Obsolete, Im a freak, in a show on brighton beach, as the snow comes down
Realitys kicking me, knocking me right off my feet, as the sky spins round
Were waiting for changes
Rejected and dented
Were waiting for changes
The lights green but todays red
Laundry stops, by the lock, on a sunday afternoon, with all that fuss
Cantelowes skateboard shows, tennants extra by a row of recycle bins
Were waiting for changes
Different perspectives
Were waiting for changes
The lights green but todays red
Take a ride to charing cross, join the masses as they shop, their lives away
29s the northern line, heading back to lose our minds, to break the chain
Were waiting for changes
Rejected and dented
Were waiting for changes
The lights green but todays red
Were waiting for changes
Different perspectives
Were waiting for changes
The lights green but todays red
Im waiting for changes
Im waiting for changes
Im waiting for changes.
song performed by by Feeder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A spiral scratched into an ancient Irish gravestone
A centre and an expansion
a life centred expanding
the force of the centre whirls
a life without limit but it says
a centred life what gods the centre
does not tell but a centre
and from there a spiral
which has a beginning but no end
the life shaping the death the death
shaping the life it seems this life
that life could not be told
need not be told
every life drawn here
drawn because it could not be spoken
even in a lilting Irish voice
speaking a spiral sentence for
Irish sentences are like spirals
the centre expands without limit
the life was lived in the circle of the year
that comes round again sowing harvest
yet never back to the same place
as the mind the vision the experience expands whirls out
like a wild dance celebrating birth marriage death
yet passes the familiar place each season
and love love for the world
expands into a holy love
spiralling without limit yet never forgetting the centre
like a child on a gate swinging
knowing it’s safe because of the hinge
it knows but does not know
for others made the hinge
and now we read the spiral on a gravestone
tracing back from infinity to the source
everything that has an outward
everything that has an inward
and so there is no need for words
the spiral like a poem about life
read it forwards read it backwards
read it with thanks see it as grace
the thick green grass curls over it
the lichen yellow orange green
placed like a lizard
blesses this the most eloquent
gravestone in all the world
in a green field the clouds white
the sky blue this is the centre
of the spiral here now and
there is no ending to the spiral
the gravestone says
but a starting yes
poem by Michael Shepherd
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A Highly-Colored Romance
Ben Green was a New-Hampshire boy,
Who stood full six feet two:
A jovial chap this same Ben Green,
Though he had oft been blue.
He loved a girl named Olive Brown,
Who lived near Bixby's pond,
And who, despite her brunette name,
Was a decided blonde.
"A Highly Colored Romance."
A pink of rare perfection she,
The belle of all the town;
Though Ben oft wished her Olive Green,
Instead of Olive Brown.
And she loved Ben, and said that nought
Should mar their joy serene;
And, when she changed from Olive Brown,
'Twould surely be to Green.
She kept her word in-violet,
And vowed, ere she was wed,
Although when Brown she had Be(e)n Green.
When Green she'd be well read.
But, ah! her young affections changed
To Gray, a Southern fellow;
And Green turned white the news to hear,
Though first it made him yell, oh!
Says he, " How can you lilac this,
When you vowed to be true?
I'll take your fine young lover, Gray,
And beat him till he's blue."
Then Olive Brown to crimson turned,
And said, "Do as you say:
The country long has wished to see
'The Blue combined with Gray.'"
Ben Green to purple turned with rage,
And black his brow as night;
While on the cheek of Olive Brown
The crimson changed to white.
"O cruel Olive Brown!" says Ben,
"I've been dun-brown by you:
Let this 'Grayback' his steps retrace,
And take Greenback, — oh, do!"
Poor Olive Brown, what could she say,
To sea-Green look so sad ?
And so she rose, and said to him,
"I'll go and ask my dad."
. . . .
The years rolled by: Ben's raven locks
For silver did not lack;
And Olive, with her hair of gold,
Was glad she took Greenback.
poem by Charles Follen Adams from Yawcob Strauss and Other Poems
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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