En.Citatepedia^®.ro

A Woman on the Dump

Is it peace,
Is it a philosopher’s honeymoon, one finds
On the dump?
—Wallace Stevens
Out of the cracks of cups and their handles, missing,
the leaves unceremoniously tossed, unread,
from a stubble of coffee ground ever more finely
into these hollowed grounds,

the first shift coaxes bulldozers to life,
sphinxes to tease the riddled rubble
into fresh pyramids of rot. A staleness warms enough
to waft round the lord of all purveyed.

His to count the hauls past the yawning gates
of this New Giza into the Middle Kingdom’s
Late Intermediate Period. There, to purify,
to honor ourselves, we beg these offerings

of refuse be cast out. To the archaeologist
of the far-flung future, enough evidence
in the inscriptions to identify most owners:
spells scratched on the backs of envelopes

to be read out before animal sacrifice,
the milk, ground meat, beer, and soap
joined in this hereafter with the feast’s remains.
Over tomatoes splitting their sides,

over a teacup stained with roses
flattened into mosaic petal from petal,
earthmovers move a little mountain
and, having moved it, move on,

overturning a diamond sprung from its ring,
glitter to a magpie’s covetous eye.
If the art of loneliness is landscape,
armload by carload of black-bagged leaves,

landfill contours its likeness.

poem by Debora Greger
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Washing Machine

Words and music by michelle branch & jenifer hagio
Your eyes they look so bright,
A funky flair in my appetite,
But theres no room for you,
My feet are on the ground,
And my head is in the clouds,
But you still cant break through,
Whatcha gonna do.
Im not just gonna stand around,
Waiting for my lips to be read,
Falling through the cracks in the ground,
My feelings need to be said.
Flowing like water in a crimson melody,
The orange plastic sun is shining,
And the truth so hard to see,
The rain of your existence if falling down on me,
And the soap suds spread like a disease from my washing machine.
Im not just gonna stand around,
Waiting for my lips to be read,
Falling through the cracks in the ground,
My feelings need to be said.
Im not just gonna stand around,
Waiting for you,
Falling through the cracks in the ground,
And Im hoping that youll make your next move,
That youll make your next move...
Im not just gonna stand around,
Waiting for my lips to be read,
Falling through the cracks in the ground,
My feelings need to be said.

song performed by by Michelle Branch
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Leaves (thread)

under the dogwood
leaves cover
a cat’s grave

early spring
one leaf still dangles
from the tree

palmistry
dew drops on a leaf
pick a vein

widow’s diary
pressed rose petal
the last leaf

with the rain drops
leaves flutter to the ground
fall showers

fallen leaves
circusing in the grass
merry-go-wind

October shower
leaves in the gutter
disembark

leaves changing colors
across the landscape
season's chameleons

morning rain
under maple leaves
tap my shoulder

leaves ripple
with melodies
cicadas song

These were published online by Sketchbook. See September/October “leaves” Haiku thread:

poem by Ben Gieske
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Petal Game

pick a flower
to play the petal game
pluck a petal
he loves me

pluck a petal
I don't love him
pluck a petal
he keeps getting closer
pluck a petal
I keep pushing him away
pluck a petal
he is always around me

pluck a petal
I hide away from him
pluck a petal
he is always protecting me
pluck a petal
I just punch him in the gut
pluck a petal
he never seems to get it

pluck a petal
I really hate his guts
pluck a petal
he just really bugs me
pluck a petal
I need a new flower now
pick a flower
to play the petal game

poem by Amber Lyn Charneski
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poem about Poetry - Did I write them?

did i write my poems?
no, not entirely
does the flower
blossom on its own?
not, not entirely
there are hands
that help each petal
tilt itself, one by one
so that the flower
inches and express
its beauty to you
beauty installed
by a set of hands
one could only describe as
the Lofty Ones

did i write my poems?
no, not entirely
there are verses
that have sprung
in the the mind like
the flower
so finely tuned each
petal has moved, so that
they are in unison with each other
so that they converge as
a beauty all done up to glorify
the unseen hands

the unseen, the unseen
that could only be
known by the heart
as every petal moves
like word to take the heart
to the height of praise
for the Lofty One

poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Will Always Love You For Who You Are

Even if the leaves of ground turn red of my blood
Even if the leaves of ground turn happy yellow into dust
Even the leaves of ground turn brown into ashes
Even if the leaves of ground turn black into the night
You will always be swaying in my breath
Because I will always love you for who you are

Even if they take out my mind again
And spin it round the midnight blue
Even if they take my heart away again
And throw it down a silent well
From inside that well your name I will call
Even though I don't like to make promises at all
This much I can always promise
Because I will always love you for who you are

poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Testify

Come a little closer it's a feeling that I can't deny
I was weak, but I never thought I'd speak about the darker side
Is that a ten? I could repent on the side of the road
But, I kept on going yeah I headed for another load
I get up from the ground in the middle of the morning
Up from the ground in the middle of the evening
Up from the ground in the middle of the night
Oh, I testify
I was laid upon the grave by a preacher's hand I cannot lie
And, I forsake many vows I made to be with you tonight
Could you be the salvation cause I never felt like this before
And, could you lend me your hand because I'm falling back on the floor
I get up from the ground in the middle of the morning
Up from the ground in the middle of the evening
Up from the ground in the middle of the night
Oh, I testify
On a road outside of nowhere, in the middle of the night
Well I guess I hit rock bottom and the dawn was not in sight
And a Tempest made of fire, onset the sky aglow
And a sweet young thing called out my name
And this is how it goes, she says...
Choir:
"Go boy, can you hear them?
Are you falling through the cracks in your eyes?"
"Go boy, can you hear them?
Are you falling through the cracks in your eyes?"
"Go boy, can you hear them?
Are you falling through the cracks in your eyes?"
Meatloaf: And I got down on my knees
Choir :"Go boy, can you hear them?
Are you falling through the cracks in your eyes?"
"Go boy, can you hear them?
Are you falling through the cracks in your eyes?"
Meatloaf (over the top of the choirs last two repititions):
I get up from the ground in the middle of the morning
Up from the ground in the middle of the evening
Up from the ground and I'm falling back down
Up from the ground and I testify
I get up from the ground in the middle of the morning
Up from the ground in the middle of the evening
Up from the ground and I'm falling back down
Up from the ground and I testify
Meatloaf & Choir:
Up from the ground in the middle of the morning
Up from the ground in the middle of the evening
Up from the ground and I'm falling back down
Up from the ground and I testify
Up from the ground in the middle of the morning
Up from the ground in the middle of the evening
Up from the ground and I'm falling back down
Up from the ground and I testify
Meatloaf:
Every cut that heals reveals a scar that you can never hope to hide
All the pain that you restrain keeps building up deep inside
If you think you're above it then it's you my friend that I implore
You've got to talk before you run
See the night before the dawn
Before you pull yourself off the floor
I get up from the ground in the middle of the morning
Up from the ground in the middle of the evening
Up from the ground in the middle of the night
Oh, I testify
Choir Singer: Up from the ground yeah, I testify
Meatloaf & Choir:
Up from the ground in the middle of the morning
Up from the ground in the middle of the evening
Up from the ground and I'm falling back down
Up from the ground and I testify
Up from the ground in the middle of the morning
Up from the ground in the middle of the evening
Up from the ground in the middle of the night
Oh, I testify
Up from the ground in the middle of the morning
Up from the ground in the middle of the evening
Up from the ground in the middle of the night
Oh, I testify
Up from the ground in the middle of the morning
Up from the ground in the middle of the evening
Up from the ground in the middle of the night
Oh, I testify

song performed by by Meat Loaf
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Dying Flower

Each Flower Petal Slowly Dying
Light Whispers Of Death
Hanging In The Brisk Afternoon Air
Lightly A Petal Floats Towards The Ground
A Gust Of Wind Quickly Whisks It Away
One By One The Flower Becomes Bearer
As Each Petal Vanishes.
The Day's Become Darker
The Nights Lighten
And The Flower Becomes Lonely
Till Eventually Only A Stem Remains
To Show It's Cycle Of Life.

The Flower Willows Towards It's End
The Petals Become Scarce
What Once Used To Be A Colour Delight
Now Hangs In Deaths Mist
As An Emerald Waiting...
Waiting For The Last Petal To Die.

Finally The Emerald Stem Dies Away
And Slowly Decay
For Again One Day
It Shall Show Its Colours
And Whistle In The Wind
With All It's Petals In Full Bloom...

poem by Ian Humphreys
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Godwin Otuyah

Perilous times will come,
So move in while you still can;
But you will be called out among many.
Like an animal's milk,
Like an animal's meat,
This is a message to Godwin Otuyah;
Have you left your numerous girlfriends? !
Like milk and meat,
Are you now married with many children?
If you still cannot recall who i am then,
Try to remember the last time i visited you in Lagos.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Animal Kingdom

I saw a friend of mine 2day
In an ad sayin what would do my body good
I told him he was wasting time I say
If God wanted milk in me
The breast I suck would have a line around the hood
No member of the animal kingdom nurses past maturity
No member of the animal kingdom ever did a thing 2 me
Its why I dont eat red meat or white fish
Dont give me no blue cheese
Were all members of the animal kingdom
Leave your brothers and sisters in the sea
Animal, animal kingdom {x2}
Who told us we should eat the swine?
U can bet your final money it damn sure wasnt no friend of mine
What about the clams on the shore?
Souls in progress, here come the fisherman - soul no more
No member of the animal kingdom nurses past maturity
(nurses past, oh yeah)
No member of the animal kingdom ever did a thing 2 me
(ever did a damn thing)
So I dont eat no red meat or white fish
Or funky, funky blue cheese
Were all members of the animal kingdom
Leave your brothers and sisters in the sea
Animal, animal kingdom {x3}

song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You Dont Have To Move That Mountain

(written by keith whitley)
You dont have to move that mountain
Just help me lord to climb it
You dont have to move that stumblin block
Just show me the way around it
We must climb a great high mountain
To reach gods gracious kingdom
In his words youll find the strength
If you will just believe them
You dont have to move that mountain
Just help me lord to climb it
You dont have to move that stumblin block
Just show me the way around it
Well, the way is filled with pitfalls
And sometimes we may falter
You can have his grace, my friend
On your knees down at the altar
You dont have to move that mountain
Just help me lord to climb it
You dont have to move that stumblin block
Just show me the way around it

song performed by by Trisha Yearwood
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Collective: The Petal Plucked

In the modest autumn gust
Amidst the flock of gyratory leaves
An inflection of bright wanderlust
From a regal flower must've been bereaved
It plummets through the violent thrusts
With piquant grace you would not believe

A petal plucked from no one knew
What flower or thorn it do belong
Bu the danseuse in its supple hue,
And balmy redolence, and lazy songs
Invokes a comfort in the milieu
Stained with tumult of wings and prongs

A saturnalia waves with the petal
As it fall and rise in neutrality
Coming gay, chaste and vestal
With fluent motions of a gypsy
That afflicts enthralls of carousals
In simple wonders and niceties

A petal needs not be in plethora-
A flower not, to posses significant aroma

poem by Norman Santos
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Man On The Dump

Day creeps down. The moon is creeping up.
The sun is a corbeil of flowers the moon Blanche
Places there, a bouquet. Ho-ho…The dump is full
Of images. Days pass like papers from a press.
The bouquets come here in the papers. So the sun,
And so the moon, both come, and the janitor's poems
Of every day, the wrapper on the can of pears,
The cat in the paper-bag, the corset, the box
From Esthonia: the tiger chest, for tea.

The freshness of night has been fresh a long time.
The freshness of morning, the blowing of day, one says
That it puffs as Cornelius Nepos reads, it puffs
More than, less than or it puffs like this or that.
The green smacks in the eye, the dew in the green
Smacks like fresh water in a can, like the sea
On a cocoanut—how many men have copied dew
For buttons, how many women have covered themselves
With dew, dew dresses, stones and chains of dew, heads
Of the floweriest flowers dewed with the dewiest dew.
One grows to hate these things except on the dump.

Now in the time of spring (azaleas, trilliums,
Myrtle, viburnums, daffodils, blue phlox) ,
Between that disgust and this, between the things
That are on the dump (azaleas and so on)
And those that will be (azaleas and so on) ,
One feels the purifying change. One rejects
The trash.

That's the moment when the moon creeps up
To the bubbling of bassoons. That's the time
One looks at the elephant-colorings of tires.
Everything is shed; and the moon comes up as the moon
(All its images are in the dump) and you see
As a man (not like an image of a man) ,
You see the moon rise in the empty sky.

One sits and beats an old tin can, lard pail.
One beats and beats for that which one believes.
That's what one wants to get near. Could it after all
Be merely oneself, as superior as the ear
To a crow's voice? Did the nightingale torture the ear,
Pack the heart and scratch the mind? And does the ear
Solace itself in peevish birds? Is it peace,
Is it a philosopher's honeymoon, one finds
On the dump? Is it to sit among mattresses of the dead,
Bottles, pots, shoes, and grass and murmur aptest eve:
Is it to hear the blatter of grackles and say
Invisible priest; is it to eject, to pull
The day to pieces and cry stanza my stone?
Where was it one first heard of the truth? The the.

poem by Wallace Stevens
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Petals

Life is a stream
On which we strew
Petal by petal the flower of our heart;
The end lost in dream,
They float past our view,
We only watch their glad, early start.

Freighted with hope,
Crimsoned with joy,
We scatter the leaves of our opening rose;
Their widening scope,
Their distant employ,
We never shall know. And the stream as it flows
Sweeps them away,
Each one is gone
Ever beyond into infinite ways.
We alone stay
While years hurry on,
The flower fared forth, though its fragrance still stays.

poem by Amy Lowell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My plants

My plants
are eaten
by all kinds of vermin.

There are golden beetles
that reaps
the leaves of the beans,
brown buzzing beetles turning in the air
around the tomatoes,

snails that can’t wait
and demolish the leaves
of beans, spinach
and tomatoes.

Indian miners
that feast in their beaks
as if every thing belongs to them.

Even poison that I spread out
doesn’t help a bit
and plants from Mrs. Roberts
that should keep such things in check
grows rampant

and after rains
there are weeds
everywhere,
as if my garden
was prepared only for them.

Even one of the taps breaks
causing water to spray without end
and I have trouble
to bind it down
and have to go to Builders
to get a new one

and this garden man gets fed up
and wants to pull
all of the vegetables out
one by one
and put something else
like flowers into that ground,

until my darling says:
“thank you for the beans,
spinach, carrots and tomatoes
that you placed in the bowls,
can I get a bit of parsley
to put in the salad? ”

poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Let Me Die In My Footsteps

I will not go down under the ground
Cause somebody tells me that deaths comin round
An I will not carry myself down to die
When I go to my grave my head will be high,
Let me die in my footsteps
Before I go down under the ground.
Theres been rumors of war and wars that have been
The meaning of the life has been lost in the wind
And some people thinkin that the end is close by
Stead of learnin to live they are learning to die.
Let me die in my footsteps
Before I go down under the ground.
I dont know if Im smart but I think I can see
When someone is pullin the wool over me
And if this war comes and deaths all around
Let me die on this land fore I die underground.
Let me die in my footsteps
Before I go down under the ground.
Theres always been people that have to cause fear
Theyve been talking of the war now for many long years
I have read all their statements and Ive not said a word
But now lawd god, let my poor voice be heard.
Let me die in my footsteps
Before I go down under the ground.
If I had rubies and riches and crowns
Id buy the whole world and change things around
Id throw all the guns and the tanks in the sea
For they are mistakes of a past history.
Let me die in my footsteps
Before I go down under the ground.
Let me drink from the waters where the mountain streams flood
Let me smell of wildflowers flow free through my blood
Let me sleep in your meadows with the green grassy leaves
Let me walk down the highway with my brother in peace.
Let me die in my footsteps
Before I go down under the ground.
Go out in your country where the land meets the sun
See the craters and the canyons where the waterfalls run
Nevada, new mexico, arizona, idaho
Let every state in this union seep in your souls.
And youll die in your footsteps
Before you go down under the ground.

song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A blooming flower without Petal

all come to whisper the perfume of sweet
fume dried like dune in the wind of the sun,
where all the raindropp falls into the ground of
waited wasted land; pasteurized in the moist
of sweeten halos of welcome

dried in the wind and capture the dew of the
morning midst; a no where to run but shadow
of the solid ground of strength, the wall behind
the lovely Daffodils in the oasis of truth; and
as it find the flavor of hope

scent the soft melody of the past and ring all
the bells that welcome the day of your forever
with me, the leaves kiss no more in the garden
of yesterday a honey comb of my stay; beats all
that step in the knocking door of where i will
always be true to what you say, thank you

find my dear heart, the flowers begins to bloom,
and the petal, never be gone in your memory it
will be done, let me wait until, my last touch in
your dried hand, and i will be lost forever in your
wishing dream

hold me not in your dreamy heart, bloom the
golden petal in the meadow of everlasting heart in
your wonderful hand, the palm of where i always
remember your memory, oh! my dream, as i stay
with you dear

i leave no regret and find my trouble heart no
more, for my hand is to cool to hold your stay....

poem by Antonio Liao
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Burning Ground

And I take you down to the burning ground
And you change me up and you turned it around
In the wind and rain Im gonna see you again
In the morning sun and when the day is done
And you take my hand and you walk with me
Sometimes it feels like eternity
And I turn the tide I get back my pride
And I make you proud wont you say it out loud
When I take you down to the burning ground
To the burning ground, to the burning ground
To the burning ground, to the burning ground
And I take you down by the factory
And I show you like it has to be
And you understand how the work is done
And I pick up the sack in the midday sun
And I pull you through by the skin of your teeth
And I lift the veil, I see whats underneath
And you return to me and you sit on your throne
And you make me feel that Im not alone
And I take you down to the burning ground
To the burning ground, to the burning ground
To the burning ground
Hey man, whats that youre carrying?
Feels like lead
It weighs a ton - lets see if we can dump it by the side of the hill
Hey wait up, why dont you dump it on the burning ground
Dump it down there
Yeh man, dump the jute
Hey man dump the jute on the burning ground
Dump the jute?
Yeh you know, dump the jute
Dump the jute!
On the burning ground
On the burning ground
And you make me think what its all about
Sometimes I know gonna work it out
And I watch you run in the crimson sun
Tear my shirt apart open up my heart
And I watch you run
Down on your bended knees
By the burnt out well
Can you tell me please
Between heaven and hell
Wont you take me down
To the burning ground, to the burning ground
To the burning ground, to the burning ground
And you fall and pray, when you hear that sound
As were walking back to the burial mound
And you shake your head and you turn it around
And you see the flames from the burning ground
And you get down on your knees and pray
And I catch my breath as were running away
And I take the jute and I throw him down
On the burning ground, on the burning ground
On the burning ground, its on the burning ground.....

song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Petal Effect

A flower is born, bringing life to Earth.
With the experiences made on Earth,
A petal falls off the flower.
It slowly takes life from the flower.
He has his first crush, one petal is lost.
Bachelor's degree is obtained and requires another petal.
A family drops two more precious petals.
The last petal falls as life ends on Earth.

poem by Cody Klinker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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After You Unfold As A Flower In Complete Bloom

i see you unfolding as a flower to me
i become your sun to shine upon you
as you bloom completely
i watch the beauty before me
i am warm too as you are so beautiful
to the caresses of my rays
i hold you then kissing everything
your petals your leaves your receptacles

after you unfold as a flower in complete bloom
i will make you
some dews
gleaming

then i leave in this sunset of my life
you too must fall
petal by petal
then the leaves too must die

such is the temporary nature of our meeting
so beautiful yes
so brief indeed
and no dew of time must ever be wasted

till we meet again
i will always be the sun and you shall always be the
flower unfolding
to such a marvelous complete blooming

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To Muriel: at the Opera

Roses and rose-buds, red and white,
Nestled between your breasts to-night,
And, lying there with drowsy breath,
Sweetly resigned themselves to death.
Ah, cruel child! that would not so
Suffer the perfumed life to go,
But, hungering for the rose's heart
Of midmost sweetness, plucked apart
Petal from petal: 'Ah!' you said
(With lips that kissed white roses red)
'To live on love and roses!'

Well,
But if the rose were Muriel?

poem by Arthur Symons
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