The Dark Forest
Dark is the forest and deep, and overhead
Hang stars like seeds of light
In vain, though not since they were sown was bred
Anything more bright.
And evermore mighty multitudes ride
About, nor enter in;
Of the other multitudes that dwell inside
Never yet was one seen.
The forest foxglove is purple, the marguerite
Outside is gold and white,
Nor can those that pluck either blossom greet
The others, day or night.
poem by Edward Thomas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Passion Play
Magdalene is trembling
Like a washing on a line
Trembling and gleaming
Never before was a man so kind
Never so redeeming
Enter the multitudes
In exxon blue
In radiation rose
Ecstasy
Now you tell me
Who you gonna get to do the dirty work
When all the slaves are free?
(who're you gonna get)
I am up a sycamore
Looking through the leaves
A sinner of some position
Who in the world can this heart healer be
This magical physician
Enter the multitudes
In exxon blue
In radiation rose
Misery
Now you tell me
Who you gonna get to do the dirty work
When all the slaves are free?
(who're you gonna get)
Enter the multitudes
The walking wounded
They come to this diver of the heart
Of the multitudes
Thy kingdom come
Thy will be done
Oh, climb down, climb down he says to me
From the middle of unrest
They think is light is squandered
But he sees a stray in the wilderness
And i see how far i've wandered
Enter the multitudes
In exxon blue
In radiation rose
Apathy
Now you tell me
Who you gonna get to do the dirty work
When all the slaves are free?
(who're you gonna get)
Enter the multitudes
The walking wounded
They come to this diver of the heart
Of the multitudes
Thy kingdom come
Thy will be done
Oh, all around the marketplace
The buzzing of the flies
The buzzing and the stinging
Divinely barren
And wickedly wise
The killer nails are ringing
Enter the multitudes
In exxon blue
In radiation rose
Tragedy
Now you tell me
Who you gonna get to do the dirty work
When all the slaves are free?
(who're you gonna get)
song performed by by Joni Mitchell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Passion Play (The Story Of Jesus And Zachius... The Little Tax Collector)
Magdalene is trembling
Like a washing on a line
Trembling and gleaming
Never before was a man so kind
Never so redeeming
Enter the multitudes
In exxon blue
In radiation rose
Ecstasy
Now you tell me
Who you gonna get to do the dirty work
When all the slaves are free?
(whore you gonna get)
I am up a sycamore
Looking through the leaves
A sinner of some position
Who in the world can this heart healer be
This magical physician
Enter the multitudes
In exxon blue
In radiation rose
Misery
Now you tell me
Who you gonna get to do the dirty work
When all the slaves are free?
(whore you gonna get)
Enter the multitudes
The walking wounded
They come to this diver of the heart
Of the multitudes
Thy kingdom come
Thy will be done
Oh, climb down, climb down he says to me
From the middle of unrest
They think is light is squandered
But he sees a stray in the wilderness
And I see how far Ive wandered
Enter the multitudes
In exxon blue
In radiation rose
Apathy
Now you tell me
Who you gonna get to do the dirty work
When all the slaves are free?
(whore you gonna get)
Enter the multitudes
The walking wounded
They come to this diver of the heart
Of the multitudes
Thy kingdom come
Thy will be done
Oh, all around the marketplace
The buzzing of the flies
The buzzing and the stinging
Divinely barren
And wickedly wise
The killer nails are ringing
Enter the multitudes
In exxon blue
In radiation rose
Tragedy
Now you tell me
Who you gonna get to do the dirty work
When all the slaves are free?
(whore you gonna get)
song performed by by Joni Mitchell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Purple Forest
I walk into a purple forest
The place is magical and free
The grass is violet, the sky is white
Purple defines every tree
I walk into a purple forest
There are purple buzzing bees
And a swamp of violet waters
creep up to my knees
I walk into a purple forest
A streak of purple runs across the sky
I hear a gentle whisper say
It was a fairy passing by
I walk into a purple forest
On violet sod I lie my head
But later, of course
I awake in my bed
poem by Summer Song
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Bamboo Grove
Alone I sit, dark, among bamboos;
I pluck my qín, or whistle Taoist breathing.
Deep in forest, no one can know:
the bright moon visits me and shines.
poem by Wang Wei, translated by William P. Coleman
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Ich habe dich nie je so geliebt
I never loved you more, ma soeur
Than as I walked away from you that evening.
The forest swallowed me, the blue forest, ma soeur
The blue forest and above it pale stars in the west.
I did not laugh, not one little bit, ma soeur
As I playfully walked towards a dark fate -
While the faces behind me
Slowly paled in the evening of the blue forest.
Everything was grand that one night, ma soeur
Never thereafter and never before -
I admit it: I was left with nothing but the big birds
And their hungry cries in the dark evening sky.
poem by Bertolt Brecht
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Taming The Tiger
I stepped outside to breathe the air
And stare up at the stars
Big dipper hanging there
Over the rented car
Over the rented car
Im a runaway from the record biz
From the hoods in the hood and the whiny white kids
Boring!
The old man is snoring
And Im taming the tiger
(you cant tame the tiger)
Tiger, tiger burning bright
Nice, kitty kitty
Tiger, tiger burning bright
Sophia says its hard to catch
And harder still to ride
The time to watch the beast the best
Is when its purring at your side
Purring at your side
Accolades and honors
One false move and youre a goner
Boring!
The old man is snoring
And Im taming the tiger
(you cant tame the tiger)
Tiger, tiger burning bright
Nice, kitty kitty
Tiger, tiger burning bright
In the forest of the night
The moon shed light
On my hopeless plight
As the radio blared so bland
Every disc, a poker chip
Every song just a one night stand
Formula music, girly guile
Genuine junkfood for juveniles
Up and down the dial
Mercenary style
I watched the stars chuck down their spears
And a plane went blinking by
And I thought of anna
Wild and dear
Like fireworks in the sky
Fireworks in the sky
Im so sick of this game
Its hip, its hot
Lifes too short, the whole things gotten
Boring!
The old man is snoring
And Im taming the tiger
(you cant tame the tiger)
Tiger, tiger burning bright
Nice, kitty kitty
(boring!)
Tiger, tiger burning bright
(you cant tame the tiger)
Oh, be nice, kitty kitty
(boring!)
Tiger, tiger burning bright
Nice, kitty kitty
(boring, boring!)
Tiger, tiger burning bright
(fight to the light, fight to the light)
In the forest of the night
song performed by by Joni Mitchell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lonely
I ride lonely lonely waves
Two worlds below multitudes beyond
Just as you said I'd ride lonely
But lonely I don't mind
I sing lonely lonely songs
Two songs below multitudes beyond
Just as it is be low low lonely
Lonely I don't mind
It hammers at hours chisels forms of time
It hammers lonely Luna tunes of change
To end up a late verse forgotten rhyme
Not a single lonely with which to exchange
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Green Roads
The green roads that end in the forest
Are strewn with white goose feathers this June,
Life marks left behind by someone gone to the forest
To show his track. But he has never come back.
Down each green road a cottage looks at the forest.
Round one the nettle towers; two are bathed in flowers.
An old man along the green road to the forest
Strays from one, from another a child alone.
In the thicket bordering the forest,
All day long a thrush twiddles his song.
It is old, but the trees are young in the forest,
All but one like a castle keep, in the middle deep.
That oak saw the ages pass in the forest:
They were a host, but their memories are lost,
For the tree is dead: all things forget the forest
Excepting perhaps me, when now I see
The old man, the child, the goose feathers at the edge of the forest,
And hear all day long the thrush repeat his song.
poem by Edward Thomas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I’m Lost
I AM LOST
Deep inside the forest, its too dark,
Its no light here, there is no way to enlightenment..
I found myself lost.
Neither I can go forward,
nor I will come back from here.
What i am doing is just waiting for sunrise,
to know whether it is east or west,
coz... i m lost.
I m lost in the way,
Once I thought would lead to my life,
but now its nowhere that I can go.
Its the darkness of the forest,
that is forcing me to thrive,
I am thrashed to be lost,
being lost to loser,
I AM LOST...
poem by Vaibhav Rawat
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On The First Of Seven's Night
sown for you blackberry's delight
on the first of seven's night
sown for you blackberry's delight
on the first of seven's night
for the world, ag'n christmas sight
on the first of seven's night
when the light of heaven is light
it's the world of two thousand seven bright
sown for you blackberry's delight
on the first of seven's night
sown for you blackberry's delight
on the first of seven's night
see, she is smiling in alone
ah! in love she is gone
'n' now she has got the tone
to say! to wish a new morn..ing
sown for you blackberry's delight
on the first of seven's night
sown for you blackberry's delight
on the first of seven's night
oh! it's the hit of 12'o clock
but who are they in morning flock
look it's you 'n' that is me
in between it's bond of thee
sown for you blackberry's delight
on the first of seven's night
sown for you blackberry's delight
on the first of seven's night
hey! who is playing these notes so cute
it must be octaves from lord krishnas flute
no! on the first of seven with the rythm inherent
a boy to a girl with the happys of heaven
sown for you blackberry's delight
on the first of seven's night
sown for you blackberry's delight
on the first of seven's night
and you! what are you doing over here
go to the fields and harvest your share
my blackberrys ripen with the dawn of the sun
hares and birds may already be having there fun
sown for you blackberry's delight
on the first of seven's night
sown for you blackberry's delight
on the first of seven's night
poem by Amit Ranjan
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Fairy
Somehow we run in the dark forest
No light, no sight, just night
But my heart's still searching for a hope
To fight, for right
And then all's shiny like fairy
In the circle, in the middle
of the forest
poem by Maria Sudibyo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The magic forest
At the Bois de Boulogne lies magic
Magic that cannot be evitable
Magic that lures people into the evergreen forest
In the forest, soft earth is like a comfy bed
Meadows of grass are green sheets for the bed
If you happen to lie down on the bed
The sunlight hugs your body gently like a mother
Your eyes are heavy weights, unable to keep your eyes open
You fall into the sweetest dream as time goes by…
Night walked into the forest as day walked out of the forest
The pale moon is like a glass eye of a witch staring at you
The dark magic falls into the forest
Lusty monsters fill the magic forest
And the magic forest falls asleep…
Nature's Night
A scented forest in the dark
Beneath the glowing moon
Dampened now by crystal drops
Because the morning's coming soon
The susurrous of sleeping leaves
Like gentle snoring in the night
Where dreams of sweet fertility
Dance beneath the soft moonlight
I wander free upon the breeze
Entranced by everything I see
By sights and sounds and musty scents
And feel the forest deep in me
Caught inside the sultry dreams
I howl with wolves in joyful song
For here beneath the slumbering stars
Lies the place where I belong
poem by John W Flournoy
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Snow White Kisses
Snow White Kisses
Snow White Kisses
My purple sky hang over me
My purple sky fly over me
Snow White dreams of frolics in the forest
Wanting day to last the whole life time
She remembers dwarves so fine attentive
She remembers drinks of draughts of fruit and vine
She lay down for final time and then upon awakening
The Gragon fly attend ewe Snow White kisses
Purple kisses mounted on her prose
Purple kisses to the breathtaking lady sleeping
mentioning a few more million in her dreaming
meaning to remain in realm of hiding
she is found in soft repose alarmingly cold
until my kisses bring her love.
poem by Charles Hice
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Arabia
Far are the shades of Arabia,
Where the Princes ride at noon,
'Mid the verdurous vales and thickets,
Under the ghost of the moon;
And so dark is that vaulted purple
Flowers in the forest rise
And toss into blossom 'gainst the phantom stars
Pale in the noonday skies.
Sweet is the music of Arabia
In my heart, when out of dreams
I still in the thin clear mirk of dawn
Descry her gliding streams;
Hear her strange lutes on the green banks
Ring loud with the grief and delight
Of the dim-silked, dark-haired Musicians
In the brooding silence of night.
They haunt me -- her lutes and her forests;
No beauty on earth I see
But shadowed with that dream recalls
Her loveliness to me:
Still eyes look coldly upon me,
Cold voices whisper and say --
'He is crazed with the spell of far Arabia,
They have stolen his wits away.'
poem by Walter de la Mare
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When the Forest Turns Gold
During the nights,
The forest turns gold.
Animals are knights,
And the children are told,
That once they set foot on the floor,
They will be pull.
When the forest turns gold.
This is not lore.
Climbers will be cold,
And the children’s heart would tore.
The children will be told,
That they will never reach the shore,
Until an eclipse peers,
Then the children would be unfold.
When the forest turns gold.
Years after years,
Climbers will be old.
The children will be swamps with fears,
That they will never be old,
Because of the magic that the forest hold.
The climbers hold the children tight.
They would always be hold,
When the forest turns gold.
The Forest
The edge of the forest stands
Against the grey, white sky
Like a row of colourless headstones
Stripped trees emerge
Tombs of a bleak winter
Silhouetted in the dull light
Against the imaginings of man
No light or life escapes
The depths of the forest
The thoughts which swell there
Creates in them a fear
Some great sadness hidden
Branches reach out like clawed hands
Pointing into a nothingness
Or grabbing, pulling inwards
To the shadows and the darkness
Of the deathly forest floor
The silence that awaits
Far beneath the grey, white sky
The morning becomes forgotten
Beyond the edge of the forest
Where shadows hide
poem by Matthew Holloway
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Sonnet
A Fairy Tale (sonnet)
On a forest’s lawn, where elves dance on nocturnal summers,
snow had fallen. Since the little people wears no shoes their
dainty feet can only bear ductile mould and grass in slumber.
They have moved into their cozy houses under green bushes,
homes lit up fireflies caught in summer when evening lasts till
midnight and they need not hide their light under a bushel.
But boars are not so delicate they rough and tumble in snow
and rock around the clock all night when stars are bright and
heaven is near, till the stars get very tired and stop their glow.
Much more snow will fall and hide their irresponsible dancing,
and the snowy stage is taken by white attired hares that jump
about for no reason at all, till the sly red foxes come prancing.
The tall cow of the forest arrives, scrapes away pristine flurry
looking for fine moss to munch and the forest falls eerily fluffy.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Morning on the Lièvre
Far above us where a jay
Screams his matins to the day,
Capped with gold and amethyst,
Like a vapor from the forge
Of a giant somewhere hid,
Out of hearing of the clang
Of his hammer, skirts of mist
Slowly up the woody gorge
Lift and hang.
Softly as a cloud we go,
Sky above and sky below,
Down the river; and the dip
Of the paddles scarcely breaks,
With the little silvery drip
Of the water as it shakes
From the blades, the crystal deep
Of the silence of the morn,
Of the forest yet asleep;
And the river reaches borne
In a mirror, purple gray,
Sheer away
To the misty line of light,
Where the forest and the stream
In the shadow meet and plight,
Like a dream.
From amid a stretch of reeds,
Where the lazy river sucks
All the water as it bleeds
From a little curling creek,
And the muskrats peer and sneak
In around the sunken wrecks
Of a tree that swept the skies
Long ago,
On a sudden seven ducks
With a splashy rustle rise,
Stretching out their seven necks,
One before, and two behind,
And the others all arow,
And as steady as the wind
With a swivelling whistle go,
Through the purple shadow led,
Till we only hear their whir
In behind a rocky spur,
Just ahead.
poem by Archibald Lampman
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Holy Thursday (Innocence)
Twas on a Holy Thursday their innocent faces clean
The children walking two & two in red & blue & green
Grey headed beadles walked before with wands as white as snow
Till into the high dome of Pauls they like Thames waters flow
O what a multitude they seemed these flowers of London town
Seated in companies they sit with radiance all their own
The hum of multitudes was there but multitudes of lambs
Thousands of little boys & girls raising their innocent hands
Now like a mighty wind they raise to heaven the voice of song
Or like harmonious thunderings the seats of heaven among
Beneath them sit the aged men wise guardians of the poor
Then cherish pity, lest you drive an angel from your door
poem by William Blake
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