Forgotten River
The forgotten river,
Lonely in the thick forest waitinf for your love;
The forgotten river,
Lovely and nicely prepared for your muse in the thick forest;
But, the big ship has now collided on the high seas! !
Maturiy of character,
Along the coast of Italy! !
But, it is an extraordinary thing that someone recommended for you;
For, i am the forgotten river in the thick forest.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Home From The Forest
Oh the neon lights were flashin
And the icy wind did blow
The water seeped into his shoes
And the drizzle turned to snow
His eyes were red, his hopes were dead
And the wine was runnin low
And the old man came home
From the forest
His tears fell on the sidewalk
As he stumbled in the street
A dozen faces stopped to stare
But no one stopped to speak
For his castle was a hallway
And the bottle was his friend
And the old man stumbled in
From the forest
Up a dark and dingy staircase
The old man made his way
His ragged coat around him
As upon his cot he lay
And he wondered how it happened
That he ended up this way
Getting lost like a fool
In the forest
And as he lay there sleeping
A vision did appear
Upon his mantle shining
A face of one so dear
Who had loved him in the springtime
Of a long-forgotten year
When the wildflowers did bloom
In the forest
She touched his grizzled fingers
And she called him by his name
And then he heard the joyful sound
Of children at their games
In an old house on a hillside
In some forgotten town
Where the river runs down
From the forest
With a mighty roar the big jets soar
Above the canyon streets
And the con men con but life goes on
For the city never sleeps
And to an old forgotten soldier
The dawn will come no more
For the old man has come home
From the forest
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Nowhere To Be Seen
The flying bird is up high in the sky to take a view,
But my lover is nowhere to be seen;
So take a message to my lover if you find her,
For in the thick forest i rest my head.
The green vegetation is around me and the blue sky above me!
Oh, how i hope that you would find her;
For this thick forest is my lonely place,
But maybe this flying bird could find her one day.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ahinful
In the thick forest of my own village,
With the light from the moon to guide us on;
But, this valley is 12 feet wide! !
And like the muse of love in the land of many roses.
Stand, brand, and, strand, band, grand, land, Ireland;
And like the muse of love around a candle stand,
But this moon gives us light in the dark around this village.
Words!
Being with the muse of kindness;
Love!
Being with a child in this village;
Works!
Labouring in pain;
But near at hand to respect your muse! !
For, the light of the moon guides us on in this village.
Plan and scheme,
Hope and dreams,
Works and acts,
And, to secure a place! !
But, Ahinful my lover is still in the thick forest.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Heart May Be A Lonely Hunter
thick grass
a forest of trees
a man lives there
and his heart is the lonely hunter
maybe
and may be for a time
when the grass is thick and the forest of trees lush
there is a time
for opening
for going and going back home
where mother and father keep the waiting
and your one and only
smiling
waiting for the warm embrace
the sad one
thinking always for your coming
back home
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Baidoo
To gain access to the forest is like,
To gain access to your love;
And, you are like one of the smart waiters around me!
But, let me break the jink.
Of the forest of love that muses with my heart!
For, my mind is now set on you like the eternal blues of love;
And i will always wait for you my sweet one,
Because, you are the very one that my heart had been searching for.
Baidoo my lover!
receive my muse and take in my message;
For, to gain access to your love is like,
To gain access to the thick forest!
And, i will always do my best to wait for you always.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Quizzed Persistently
Grave looters ans shop lifters,
Interpersonal problems to greet the muse;
But it started from the family and,
I don't need flowers on my grave because i am lonely.
I wonder where you are and,
Of the grave looters and the shop lifters;
But when the night falls,
Love makes sweet songs to my muse.
I don't need words from my window because,
You will see my nakedness and be attracted;
For i am the thick forest that teaches mankind,
And i need moisturising lotion to come out straight!
You have to be somebody for someone than these acts,
And to be quizzed persistently is not right!
For you keep on stealing all the time.
Can we die twice? !
Then thick about tese act of yours in the society;
For i still do wonder about them and,
My mind is still not at rest.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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The Walls Around Us
there are so many
walls
in order not to
fully understand
a wall of rain
a forest of trees
a river up the floor
a cloud on our eyes
between us are
thick walls
inside us a garden
of flowers
we hear scents
we taste nothing
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Megalith (Homage to the Macedonian poet Mateja Matevski)
The forests have shrunk back to the forest
holed up with the howl
of the last wolf -
the sound of time dying.
The seas have drained back to Sargasso
soup-thick with their dead:
the stench of time threshing.
And some of the old stones dragged and stood up
at the flinty beginning of hatred
by the river that once was
still stand, only half-wrecked,
their fissures expressionless.
poem by Anthony Weir
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Deer Hunt
Hunter pursuits a white-tailed deer and suddenly it disappears in the thick jungle.
The way back is forgotten and he was left behind.
There live a Widow and a Virgin who were pioneers of the secret forest provide him hospitality.
The hunter doesn't want to white wash and he catches these two birds (huntresses) in one stone.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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After The Scream
after the scream, she takes her needed vacation
in Florence,
takes her silent walks along the boulevard
by the river of Arno,
this is Italy, and the scream had long been forgotten.
it is over she said, my brother is dead, and i am here
working on a plan to survive the pain
of my family
each step is a forgetting.
the sound of her heels on the cobbled stones
must tell another story
something happy, about her love and her coping up
for a new beginning.
her long hair hangs on her thick black coat
the river is a big, wide, long silver
running between two connected
ancient towns of other people's miseries
not hers now. It is over. It is over.
She keeps on telling herself.
she obliges a smile in this picture.
her hands inside her pocket.Her arms
sticking on the side of her
frail, brown body.
Meanwhile, the sun begins
to spread her morning light.
It is time to go.That's what is written
at the back of the picture.
I am looking at it now. I am smiling.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Please Do Not Ask Me How A River Feels
children bathe in the river.
we were children once, we bathe in the river
we float and go with the flow of the river
we lied to mother we were afraid of father
but we were children once and we bathed in the river
we all know how a river felt
throughout our bodies
time runs like a river how many times shall i tell you that
we had mud all over
we were once children we grow to be men
strong arms and swift feet
we caught fish
we claim to be men with responsibilities
we are still children at heart we still feel the rivers running on our skins
i know, i still know how a river feels
time does not know how to kill the feel of rivers
do not ask me then if i have forgotten the river
we are men with responsibilities we have gone away
far from what we are
the river still flows and it will never stop
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Road That Runs Beside The River
follows the river as it bends
along the valley floor,
going the way it must.
Where water goes, so goes the road,
if there's room (not in a ravine,
gorge), the river
on your right or left. Left is better: when you're driving,
it's over your elbow across
the road.
You see the current, which is
what the river is: the river
in the river, a thing sliding fast forward
inside a thing sliding not so fast forward.
Driving with, beside, the river's flow is good.
Another pleasure, driving against it: it's the same river
someone else will see
somewhere else downstream -- same play,
new theater, different set.
Wide, shallow, fairly fast,
roundy-stone streambed, rocky-land river,
it turns there or here -- the ground
telling it so -- draining dull
mountains to the north,
migrating, feeding a few hard-fleshed fish
who live in it. One small sandbar splits
the river, then it loops left,
the road right, and the river's silver
slips under the trees,
into the forest,
and over the sharp perpendicular
edge of the earth.
poem by Thomas Lux
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Old Folks At Home / Ol' Man River
Ol' man river
That ol' man river
He must say something (he don't know nothin')
But he don't say nothing
That ol' man river
He just keeps rollin' along
He don't plant taters
He don't plant cotton
And them that plants 'em
Are soon forgotten
That ol' man river
He just keeps rolling along
That ol' man river
He just keeps rolling along
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Ballad Of What The Wind Said
Eternity may well
Be only a river
Be a forgotten horse
And the cooing
Of a lost dove.
As for the man who distances
Himself from men, the wind comes
Telling him other things now
Opening his ears
And eyes to other things.
Today, I distanced myself from men,
And alone, in this gully,
I began to gaze at the river,
And saw a horse all alone,
And listened all lonely
To the cooing
Of a lost dove.
And the wind came close,
Like someone passing by,
And told me:
Eternity may well
Be only a river
Be a forgotten horse
And the cooing
Of a lost dove.
poem by Rafael Alberti from Ballads and Songs of the Paraná (1953)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Wednesday's Wood
Wednesday's wood,
Deep in the forest for the women to carry;
But you've brought much trouble upon me!
Hunt,
Angry,
Hurt,
Acquire,
Possessions,
Oppression;
But after 21 days in the thick forest,
I will find my way back home.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Haven't Forgotten
I haven't forgotten when I meet you first!
I haven't forgotten when I greet you last!
I haven't forgotten your pretty face!
I haven't forgotten your smile and grace!
I haven't forgotten how we started chatting!
I haven't forgotten when we started dating!
I haven't forgotten our last walk together!
I haven't forgotten how I became a loser!
I haven't forgotten how it became too late!
I haven't forgotten when I understood fate!
I haven't forgotten that summer's northwester!
I haven't forgotten and won't forget ever!
poem by Asif Andalib
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The Subject On This Love
The subject on this love is an object,
And the object is very sound and beautiful;
The subject on this love is a valley,
And the valley is very quiet and lovely;
The subject on this love is a fruit,
And the fruit is very sound and attractive;
The subject on this love is a mountain,
And the mountain is very high and lonely;
The subject on this love is a river,
And the river is very smooth and slippery;
The subject on this love is a seed,
And the seed is very fruitful and sweet;
The subject on this love is your milk,
And your milk is very thick and sweet;
The subject on this love is your lake,
And your lake is very fresh and aromantic;
The subject on this love is a garden,
And the garden is very thick and bushy;
The subject on this love is a room,
And that room is very romantic and peaceful;
The subject on this love is your apples,
And your apples are very passinate and emotional;
The subject on this love is a tree,
And that tree is very tall and bushy;
But the peace of this subject brings is like,
Two lovers swimming across the blue sea of love and blues.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Where Is The River?
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or somewhere else
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or hidden under the ground
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or safe inside the cave
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or still far away
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or up above the cloud
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or out of our reach
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or trickling on the rock
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or gathering in the pool
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or down over the cliff
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or just sight of illusion
Where is the river?
Is it here
Running in your eyes
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or sudden flood in the road
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Olando
I do have a job for you my sweet Olando,
And like the pilgrim of the bulls in the thick forest;
But, try to know and understand my muse when you knock at my door.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Of The Wolf
She ran and came to me!
Because, she was afraid of the wolf! !
But do not touch her,
For, we need to help her with the available shelter around;
And like the muse of love in the land of joy!
For, this wolf is still hiding in the thick forest.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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