Nobody Home!
newspaper clippings,
angels, and dust.
an old chair roaring silence,
rusted spoon, empty plate.
great piles of leaves,
blown by the wind....
hoarfrost on the windows,
a bulb without a shade.
water boiling on the stove...
nobody home!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Clouds Blow Away!
vomit stained lips quivering
on a street corner lost
between human and forgotten....
clouds blow away!
bloody feet children walking
behind despair blinded bodies
not even pretending to be alive.
clouds blow away!
gun in the belt rogues
behind blacked out windows
snorting forever dust, wild eyed....
clouds blow away!
old man eating canned dog food
with a rusted spoon,
sitting on a milk box, empty room...
clouds blow away!
young boy in the hole,
blood crusted swollen lips
cannot even cry in the darkness....
clouds blown across
....the face of the moon!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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In Love...
there is no empty plate
nothing is stained
there is no empty chair
everyone sits
there is no tree without
leaves
no twig without a fruit
there is no paper without
words of praise
there is no labyrinth without
a trace
there is no chaos
understanding always reigns
there is no attempt to change
what cannot be.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Memories
the memories have become brown leaves
with the slight touch of the wind
this summer
all of them fall to the ground
some will be blown far away
some will stay and crack
and become dust
in a little while,
i will hear the sound of everything
the wind blowing,
the falling of the leaves
the cracking and
then how the dust
whispers
that it still want to stay and wait
even longer
for the next season of rain
like some seeds.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Labour Spent
Sun in stolen leisure
come warm my face
while we welcome rest
from industrious pace.
Wind is blowing cold
clouds overcast are black
like rusted fallen leaves
workers soon blown back.
Chill breezes blown bitterly.
Busy worker hands benefit community.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Piano Bench
sun setting,
...azure tint.
the piano bench empty,
dust gathers on the keys.
the grass damp with dew,
the wind still, and quiet.
the bookshelf sags
with books long ignored.
people walk by without talking,
darkness opens its mouth... swallows.
the lamp forlorn and chilled
waits without hope for a bulb.
nothing to say that can say,
words fall like leaves to the ground.
the room empty haunted by form,
curls up inside it's own hollow.
no fingers to touch the keys!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Lonesome Farewell...
lonesome farewell...
wind blown dust,
cardboard boxes in the rain.
the doorknob broken,
the window nailed shut.
empty fields, briars and thorns.
a dead rabbit rotting
on the side of the road.
signs falling down,
tree limbs on the ground.
silence screams, waves of grief!
the smell of want, forgotten lips.
words cling like cobwebs
to the empty walls...
where are you now?
where are you now?
poem by Eric Cockrell
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When Love Becomes...
when love becomes...
conversations never finished,
the book laid down,
dust on the curtains,
the plate that needs washed.
the broom in the corner,
the empty spot on the bed.
the head nodding from the chair...
when love becomes!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Dust In The Wind
Music : Kerry Livgren
Lyrics: Kerry Livgren
I close my eyes
Only for a moment and the moment's gone
All my dreams
Pass before my eyes, a curiosity
Dust in the wind
All they are is dust in the wind
Same old song
Just a drop of water in an endless sea
All we do
Crumbles to the ground, though we refuse to see
Dust in the wind
All we are is dust in the wind
Now, Don't hang on
Nothing lasts forever but the earth and sky
It slips away
And all your money won't another minute buy
Dust in the wind
All we are is dust in the wind
Dust in the wind
All we are is dust in the wind
Dust in the wind
All we are is dust in the wind
Dust in the wind
All we are is dust in the wind
song performed by by Scorpions
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Empty Paper Cups
i do not wish to be great,
to turn and bow on the final stage.
i have no desire to be the train,
just a common plank on the track.
i do not brandish light for the blind,
i walk among shadows without a noise.
my name could be key, wellhouse, or pump...
my voice the sound of a sparrow hatched.
i taste like old trees,
and rain falling from a rusted gutter.
i've had long conversations with dogs,
walked window ledges with cats.
i know the stories of old tires,
i've hung my hat on rusted nails.
i pray in the moonlight with spiders,
and sing praises to the ants.
i am the lick of the tongue,
the bent finger stroking your eyes.
i come rushing like the wind,
leaving stray leaves and empty paper cups!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Where The Streets Have No Names
I want to run
I want to hide
I want to tear down the walls
That hold me inside
I want to reach out
And touch the flame
Where the streets have no name
I want to feel sunlight on my face
I see the dust cloud disappear
Without a trace
I want to take shelter from the poison rain
Where the streets have no name
Where the streets have no name
Where the streets have no name
We're still building
Then burning down love
Burning down love
And when I go there
I go there with you
It's all I can do
The city's aflood
And our love turns to rust
We're beaten and blown by the wind
Trampled in dust
I'll show you a place
High on a desert plain
Where the streets have no name
Where the streets have no name
Where the streets have no name
We're still building
Then burning down love
Burning down love
And when I go there
I go there with you
It's all I can do
Our love turns to rust
We're beaten and blown by the wind
Blown by the wind
Oh, and I see love
See our love turn to rust
We're beaten and blown by the wind
Blown by the wind
Oh, when I go there
I go there with you
It's all I can do
song performed by by U2
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The proud man counts his newspaper clippings, the humble man his blessings.
quote by Fulton J. Sheen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Living Leaves
The leaves seem to take on a life of their own,
As, along the ground, they’re bounced and blown.
They run rings around my rapidly pacing feet;
Pulsating, moving, as if dancing to a musical beat.
Along the ground, the leaves skip and skitter,
As they’re blown around by the wind so bitter.
Each other, they sometimes appear to chase,
As they run around, with such a great haste.
With me, the leaves seem to be playing a game,
But they are very boisterous, and not at all tame.
Devoid of moisture, they’re as light as a feather,
And are lifted effortlessly, in this windy weather.
Some of them take flight through the air like kites;
Often soaring up to the most remarkable heights.
They zoom all around: so much higher than me;
Seemingly thrilled that, at last, they’re finally free.
Endless energy, the leaves seem to have acquired:
If we ran around like that, we would soon be tired.
The long dead leaves, all brown, with edges curled,
Are whipped up by the wind, and tirelessly whirled.
The leaves perform such a merry little dance;
Up into the air, they now do leap and prance.
To each other, they seem to whisper and rustle,
As, along the streets, they now hustle and bustle.
Following their freedom, they seem keen to explore.
They’re totally undiscouraged by the wind so raw.
More and more leaves excitedly come out to play
As. along the road, I carry onwards, on my way.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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Dust In The Wind
I close my eyes
Only for a moment and the moment's gone
All my dreams
Flash before my eyes of curiosity
Dust in the wind
All they are is dust in the wind
Same old song
Just a drop of water in an endless sea
All we do
Crumbles to the ground though we refuse to see
Dust in the wind
All we are is dust in the wind
Now
Don't hang on
Nothing lasts forever but the Earth and Sky
It slips away
And all your money won't another minute buy
Dust in the wind
All we are is dust in the wind
Dust in the wind
Everything is dust in the wind
song performed by by Kansas
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Outside And Inside
this early morning
the rains are raging
outside is a rampage of
blown leaves and trees
you are afraid may
finally be uprooted
in the room
the brown dog sleeps
beside a wooden wall
on the floor
the glass doors
& windows are closed
the silence reigns
inside you begin
on another journey
you began last night
on some short breaths
until you think
you had a nice sleep
inside there is something
that rages
it is not the wind or the rain
it is something else
that you want to know
more & more
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Wallace Ferguson
There at Geneva where Mt. Blanc floated above
The wine-hued lake like a cloud, when a breeze was blown
Out of an empty sky of blue, and the roaring Rhone
Hurried under the bridge through chasms of rock;
And the music along the cafés was part of the splendor
Of dancing water under a torrent of light;
And the purer part of the genius of Jean Rousseau
Was the silent music of all we saw or heard --
There at Geneva, I say, was the rapture less
Because I could not link myself with the I of yore,
When twenty years before I wandered about Spoon River?
Nor remember what I was nor what I felt?
We live in the hour all free of the hours gone by.
Therefore, O soul, if you lose yourself in death,
And wake in some Geneva by some Mt. Blanc,
What do you care if you know not yourself as the you
Who lived and loved in a little corner of earth
Known as Spoon River ages and ages vanished?
poem by Edgar Lee Masters
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On the back page of a old newspaper
There’s a newspaper which the wind blows,
round and round
until it hits against me.
I grab it out of the wind
and after getting into my car
I open it on the seat next to me.
I see your photograph
on the back page of a old newspaper
and it says that you live
in another country,
on the other side of the big blue sea.
I wonder what is going on in your world
and when I close the newspaper,
It’s as if you were here with me
for a moment.
poem by Gert Strydom
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I Want a Wind
I want a wind
To start in the far-off mountain
To rush down in a raging fury
And fill this dull and silent valley.
I want a wind
To wrap around the gray tree trunks
To rattle the leaves and grass
To whistle by the window’s glass.
I want a wind
To make the pine trees clack together
To tangle the hair of the Barbie girls
To make the dust on the roads to swirl.
I want a wind
To take the litter on the sidewalk away
To blow the mist from the falls my way
To echo throughout this listless day.
I want a wind
To burst through the window and into here
To scatter the papers from their neat piles
To steal my breath and give me smile.
poem by Sophia White
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A Death-Parting
LEAVES and rain and the days of the year,
(Water-willow and wellaway,)
All these fall, and my soul gives ear,
And she is hence who once was here.
(With a wind blown night and day.)
Ah! but now, for a secret sign,
(The willow's wan and the water white,)
In the held breath of the day's decline
Her very face seemed pressed to mine.
(With a wind blown day and night.)
O love, of my death my life is fain;
(The willows wave on the water-way,)
Your cheek and mine are cold in the rain,
But warm they'll be when we meet again.
(With a wind blown night and day.)
Mists are heaved and cover the sky;
(The willows wail in the waning light,)
O loose your lips, leave space for a sigh,—
They seal my soul, I cannot die.
(With a wind blown day and night.)
Leaves and rain and the days of the year,
(Water-willow and wellaway,)
All still fall, and I still give ear,
And she is hence, and I am here.
(With a wind blown night and day.)
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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True Kingdom
The wind storm blew,
The green leaves flew,
Creakingly cracked the trees,
They tumbled with blows of the wind,
The turbans were blown away,
From the heads,
The shawls,
Entangled on the acacias’ thorns,
And the damsels moved mourning.
Ah! The wind storm blew,
All around the dust flew,
Only the kingdom,
Of the wind is the truth,
And all other is falsehood.
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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Light brings shadow
Light throws shadow.
Sound leaves silence.
Windows lets air and dust.
Let us face likewise
Pleasure and pain.
28.01.2012
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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