Sunset sky
Gold
ruptures
shining pearl
splitting ashen
powdered nebula
languidly changing form.
Infused fuchsia wisps unfold
drowsily thread by thread trailing
athwart the resplendent crimson orb
seductively slipping into twilight.
poem by Diana Rosser
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Lady On The Loom!
In the old folk lore, at her loom the old lady in the sky,
Spins dreams and wisps of clouds in the blink of an eye,
One of them could have been mine,
Not to believe in anything is no longer a comfort but a whine.
The warp- the foundation thread stretches, languidly lengthwise on the loom,
While the weft thread entwines in the arms of the warp,
for different types of cloths allowing room,
The trees chastised by the wind gather strength, so is the warp beaten.
To analyze the relation of line to line, that stretches from skyline to horizon
Without considering the texture, is an artistic affection,
Now place line on line braid the textures of the fecund threatening clouds,
Where necessary interlace with the Seraphic cross-sectional symbols,
Brilliant Sun, honeyed Moon, the burst of stars, under it let the flowers assemble,
Kill that moment there & postpone the problem of the next,
Let’s run from tree to tree, till the last hard veer from each other, so dressed.
That step, the binding thread from sensualism to irrevocable cynicism binds us together,
A piece of disjunctivity—where form, matter &texture hadn’t coincided.
Like two trucks entering one lane junction at the same time,
Stakes are high, but never has one collided.
The butterfly shuttle hovers, with it’s colors weft thread rescues, with a purpose
Finally under the blue skies, the cloth is spun; let’s together lie down in it once again,
Thus the old lady shall dispose.
Seema. Joglekar
26September-2009
poem by Seema joglekar
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The Old Army Blanket
Coarse and ruff quite often thread bare
The soldier did not seem to care
Let the enemy try to take if he dare;
Coarse and ruff quite often thread bare
Driving rain or snow wearing his blanket
Coarse and ruff quite often thread bare.
Being a soldier he could expect no better fare,
Coarse and ruff, quite often thread bare
His fight done, read over with a prayer
Wrapped in the old grey Army blanket
Coarse and ruff quite often thread bare.
He did his duty few could compare,
Coarse and ruff, quite often thread bare
poem by Derrick Fernie
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Broken Thread
Broken Thread
Waking early I hear myself breathing
Covered up in my hand me down hand me down
Hiding under my patchwork freezing
With my wedding dress calling me, calling me
I dress myself in dis-function
Do I drown you in sympathy, sympathy
You could be my winter messiah
Scarred around and around me....around me
Cause im stiched up like an angel chord, I'm fixed up
They try to run and hide somehere in there defense
And now want to hand me down again.....
On a broken thread
On a broken thread
I choose to set you on fire
No-more wearing and tearing me, tearing me
Your still my only desire
And now it seems like your leaving me, freeing me, healing me.
Cause im stiched up like an angel chord, I'm fixed up
They try to run and hide somehere in there defense
And now want to hand me down again.....
They try to run and hide somehere in there defense
And now want to hand me down again.....
On a broken thread
On a broken thread
On a broken thread
On a broken thread
On a broken thread
song performed by by Natalie Imbruglia
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Song From "The Player Queen"
MY mother dandled me and sang,
"How young it is, how young!'
And made a golden cradle
That on a willow swung.
"He went away,' my mother sang,
"When I was brought to bed,'
And all the while her needle pulled
The gold and silver thread.
She pulled the thread and bit the thread
And made a golden gown,
And wept because she had dreamt that I
Was born to wear a crown.
"When she was got,' my mother sang,
I heard a sea-mew cry,
And saw a flake of the yellow foam
That dropped upon my thigh."
How therefore could she help but braid
The gold into my hair,
And dream that I should carry
The golden top of care?
poem by William Butler Yeats
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Single Thread
Life is but a single thread
that stretches into infinity.
If the thread is ever broken
life then drifts away,
lost to the eons of eternal night.
There is no mending the thread
that is once severed,
no going back to recover.
Gone forever the control
it drifts endlessly away
into a greater light
than the one we know.
26 November 2009
poem by David Harris
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Fabric Of Life
the bullet rips through the night
like a needle trailing a thread of blood
mending together the fabric of my life,
but the rain is falling and drowning me in self-guilt,
as i rape the pain with angel tears shed by the dealer of design,
wondering who created this fabric of life,
my life,
torn by the hands of depression,
mended
by bullets and blood
needles and thread
as i fall into a euphoria
of tears
Copyright 2007
poem by Slam Metalpuppets
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Tapestry Of LIfe
I see life
Like a Tapestry
Were you weave
In and out of life
As the journey unfolds
Each thread
Inter woven in your dreams
Have vibrant colours
That burst into being
That burst into life
Then often as in life
You have the black
Grey and white
The hidden nightmares
The hidden dreams
The shadows of life
The beauty of it all
Is how each thread
Intertwines its way through life
Each colour vibrant
With each thread you sew
Even the shadows
Bring out the colours
On a tapestry of Gold
poem by Kaila George
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We construct a narrative for ourselves, and that's the thread that we follow from one day to the next. People who disintegrate as personalities are the ones who lose that thread.
quote by Paul Auster
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Do not leave me
Do not leave me in this world without you.
You are woven through the fabric of my life.
If you abandon me I will unravel
slowly,
thread
by thread,
until I am nothing but holes.
How then will I continue when so much of me is missing?
poem by Diana Rosser
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Love Hanging By A Thread
I'm not yet in love
For it is hanging by a thread,
But soon it will break
And my love, it will shed
With it broken I will fall
Until I hit the ground,
Only then will I be running
Destination...lovebound.
I hope she understands
My feelings for her,
Will she accept them
I know not for sure.
But there it is hanging
By a thread so thin,
Hiding in the dark
So secret and dim.
Waiting to be unlocked
From my heart with a key,
Only then will my love
Be released and set free.
Until then I dream of her
As I lie there in my bed,
Waiting for the break
Of love hanging by a thread.
poem by Adam McKim
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Thread
I know the thread
That threaded me.
I know the earth
I know the water
The fire and the air
I know the ether the mind
I know the reason the ego.
If you want to go
You may go.
You sustained in me
You strive to realized me.
You know how to disappear
You know I am the thread
You know I am being
Threaded with you.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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O Lady, Leave Thy Silken Thread
O Lady, leave thy silken thread
And flowery tapestrie:
There's living roses on the bush,
And blossoms on the tree;
Stoop where thou wilt, thy careless hand
Some random bud will meet;
Thou canst not tread, but thou wilt find
The daisy at thy feet.
'Tis like the birthday of the world,
When earth was born in bloom;
The light is made of many dyes,
The air is all perfume;
There's crimson buds, and white and blue—
The very rainbow showers
Have turn'd to blossoms where they fell,
And sown the earth with flowers.
There's fairy tulips in the east,
The garden of the sun;
The very streams reflect the hues,
And blossom as they run:
While Morn opes like a crimson rose,
Still wet with pearly showers;
Then, lady, leave the silken thread
Thou twinest into flowers!
poem by Thomas Hood
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A Builder's Lesson
'HOW shall I a habit break?'
As you did that habit make.
As you gathered, you must lose;
As you yielded, now refuse.
Thread by thread the strands we twist
Till they bind us neck and wrist;
Thread by thread the patient hand
Must untwine ere free we stand.
As we builded, stone by stone,
We must toil unhelped, alone,
Till the wall is overthrown.
But remember, as we try,
Lighter every test goes by;
Wading in, the stream grows deep
Toward the center's downward sweep;
Backward turn, each step ashore
Shallower is than that before.
Ah, the precious years we waste
Leveling what we raised in haste;
Doing what must be undone
Ere content or love be won!
First across the gulf we cast
Kite-borne threads, till lines are passed,
And habit builds the bridge at last!
poem by John Boyle O'Reilly
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Threadgold
I have the thread of gold because,
My name is Threadgold!
And i have my muse to share with you in this world;
But don't blame me when,
You have not seen any gold before in your lifetime.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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An Invisible Thread
An invisible thread
Of understanding
Connects and binds
The two of us
As none other thing
Would do
It hangs on mutual
Love and affection
Care and confidence
The thread may tangle
It may loosen
However,
It will never break
Selfless purity
In our relationship
Shall make it stronger
Day by day
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
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His Bargain
Who talks of Plato's spindle;
What set it whirling round?
Eternity may dwindle,
Time is unwound,
Dan and Jerry Lout
Change their loves about.
However they may take it,
Before the thread began
I made, and may not break it
When the last thread has run,
A bargain with that hair
And all the windings there.
poem by William Butler Yeats
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Thread sofetly
thread softly my love.
thread softly my sweet
for you have made my life complete.
in you i can see all the love that is meant to be.
you have captured my heart and soul.
you have captured everything that i hold.
in you i finally see-that our love is meant to be.
so thread softly my sweet
for my heart is beneath your feet.
poem by Louis Rams
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I know that most men, including those at ease with problems of the greatest complexity, can seldom accept even the simplest and most obvious truth if it be such as would oblige them to admit the falsity of conclusions which they have delighted in explaining to colleagues, which they have proudly taught to others, and which they have woven, thread by thread, into the fabric of their lives.
quote by Leo Tolstoy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In This Moment, Forever
Languished, we lay with one another
in night-sweet passion like lovers do-
nefarious night to never ebb.
Drinking delight in the heart of love,
as one, in acrostic, forever.
Mist moves magic, shrouding our secret;
and wisps of wind move over the plain.
Rejoicing in this sacred serai,
illuminated raptured rebec,
Euterpe falls to salacious stitch.
Vervains of white and deep indigo
are gleaming, unreal and phantasmal -
nocturnal nebula on the sea.
This is a moment of joy and bliss,
and sweet kisses that I can't resist.
Silence has a golden aria.
Someone scatters stars across the sky.
Even the moon moves over the hill.
Languidly laying like lovers do,
love lives in this moment, forever.
poem by Linda Marie Van Tassell
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Eve- Song
I span and Eve span
A thread to bind the heart of man;
But the heart of man was a wandering thing
That came and went with little to bring:
Nothing he minded what we made,
As here he loitered, and there he stayed.
I span and Eve span
A thread to bind the heart of man;
But the more we span the more we found
It wasn't his heart but ours we bound.
For children gathered about our knees:
The thread was a chain that stole our ease.
And one of us learned in our children's eyes
That more than man was love and prize.
But deep in the heart of one of us lay
A root of loss and hidden dismay.
He said he was strong. He had no strength
But that which comes of breadth and length.
He said he was fond. But his fondness proved
The flame of an hour when he was moved.
He said he was true. His truth was but
A door that winds could open and shut.
And yet, and yet, as he came back,
Wandering in from the outward track,
We held our arms, and gave him our breast,
As a pillowing place for his head to rest.
I span and Eve span,
A thread to bind the heart of man!
poem by Dame Mary Gilmore
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