En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Now And Forever

turning leaves,
dusk skies; moonlight
weaving through shadows

and the dew...
the earth gasps,
turns, and tremors...

the trees bow and pray
one final prayer...
and all that is...

all that we've come to know...
moondust in a thimble,
dust on a cat's whisker....

turning leaves...
amid the whispers
of now and forever...

poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Leaves

I see the morning paper, I crumble it to bits
Cause its bad again
How long will it take us?
To find out that this is it
Until its bad again?
The leaves are falling
The leaves are falling
Turning over and over the leaves are turning over
Getting colder and colder, the leaves are turning over
Why do so many races, fight while our children play?
Will we melt away?
Try and theyll take your best friend
Try and theyll take your head
For caring about, for caring about
Turning over and over, the leaves are turning over
Getting colder and colder, the leaves are turning over
Will we care again?
Will we care again?
Everyone passes on and believes in what they want to
If we heal, we can feel something that we didnt want to
Theres a sign for the time, you can read it if you want to
Or everyone will become, numb
Theyre falling...

song performed by by Ours
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Song Of Autumn

we have become old...
and have earned this time
of turning... turning wind,

turning leaves.... day turning
to night with a suddeness.
every stroke of color,

every shade of black and white...
and this sudden chill brings
a warmth that our lives define!

our passion is falling
like leaves to carpet the earth....
our bare limbs reach heavenward...

to God, or the next page...
we wait on the snow,
and the small fires the living

build to light the way....
we are the song of autumn...
the wind that fills the empty

pages of forever with human hands....
old warriors, and lovers,
whose touching defines the night!

poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hymn Of The Big Wheel (disc 2)

The big wheel keeps on turning
On a simple line day by day
The earth spins on its axis
One man struggle while another relaxes
There's a hole in my soul like a cavity
Seems the world is out to gather just by gravity
The wheel keeps turning the sky's rearranging
Look my son the weather is changing
I'd like to feel that you could be free
Look up at the blue skies beneath a new tree
Sometime again
You'll turn green and the sea turns red
My son I said the power of reflections over my head
The big wheel keeps on turning
On a simple line day by day
The earth spins on its axis
One man struggle while another relaxes
We sang about the sun and danced among the trees
And we listened to the whisper of the city on the breeze
Will you cry in the most in a lead-free zone
Down within the shadows where the factories drone
On the surface of the wheel they build another town
And so the green come tumbling down
Yes close your eyes and hold me tight
And i'll show you sunset sometime again
The big wheel keeps on turning
On a simple line day by day
The earth spins on its axis
One man struggle while another relaxes
As a child solemn pray my hope hides in disguise
While satellites and cameras watch from the skies
An acid drop of rain recycled from the sea
It washed away my shadow burnt a hole in me
And all the king's men cannot put it back again
But the ghetto sun will nurture life
And mend my soul sometime again
The big wheel keeps on turning
On a simple line day by day
The earth spins on its axis
One man struggle while another relaxes
(x2

song performed by by Massive Attack
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hymn Of The Big Wheel

Horace andy
The big wheel keeps on turning
On a simple line day by day
The earth spins on its axis
One man struggle while another relaxes
Theres a hole in my soul like a cavity
Seems the world is out to gather just by gravity
The wheel keeps turning the skys rearranging
Look my son the weather is changing
Id like to feel that you could be free
Look up at the blue skies beneath a new tree
Sometime again
Youll turn green and the sea turns red
My son I said the power of ? ? ? s over my head
The big wheel keeps on turning
On a simple line day by day
The earth spins on its axis
One man struggle while another relaxes
We sang about the sun and danced about the trees
And we listened to the whisper of the city on the breeze
Will you cry ? ? ? in a lead-free zone
Down within the shadows where the factories drone
On the surface of the wheel they build another town
And so the green come tumbling down
Yes close your eyes and hold me tight
And Ill show you sunset sometime again
The big wheel keeps on turning
On a simple line day by day
The earth spins on its axis
One man struggle while another relaxes
As a child solemn pray my hope hides in disguise
While satellites and cameras watch from the skies
An acid drop of rain recycled from the sea
It washed away my shadow burnt a hole in me
And all the kings men cannot put it back again
But the ghetto sun will nurture life
And mend my soul sometime again
The big wheel keeps on turning
On a simple line day by day
The earth spins on its axis
One man struggle while another relaxes
(x2)

song performed by by Massive Attack
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Turning Japanese

Ive got your picture
Of me and you
You wrote, I love you.
I love you, too
I sit there staring when theres nothing else to do
Oh, its in color
Your hair is brown
Your eyes are hazel
And soft as clouds
I often kiss you when theres no one else around
Ive got your picture, got your picture
Id like a million of em over myself
I want a doctor to take your picture
So I can look at you from inside as well
Youve got me turning up, Im turning down, Im turning in, and Im turning round
Im turning japanese, I think Im turning japanese, I really think so
Turning japanese, I think Im turning japanese, I really think so
Turning japanese, I think Im turning japanese, I really think so
Turning japanese, I think Im turning japanese, I really think so
Ive got your picture, Ive got your picture
Id like a million of them over myself
I want a doctor to take your picture
So I can look at you from inside as well
Youve got me turning up, Im turning down, Im turning in, and Im turning round
Im turning japanese, I think Im turning japanese, I really think so
Turning japanese, I think Im turning japanese, I really think so
Turning japanese, I think Im turning japanese, I really think so
Turning japanese, I think Im turning japanese, I really think so
No sex, no drugs, no wine, no women
No fun, no sin, no you, no wonder its dark
Everyone around me is a total stranger
Everyone avoids me like a cyclone ranger
Everyone
Thats why Im turning japanese, I think Im turning japanese, I really think so
Turning japanese, I think Im turning japanese, I really think so
Turning japanese, I think Im turning japanese, I really think so
Turning japanese, I think Im turning japanese, I really think so
Turning japanese, I think Im turning japanese, I really think so
Turning japanese, I think Im turning japanese, I really think so
(think so, think so, think so)
Turning japanese, I think Im turning japanese, I really think so
Turning japanese, I think Im turning japanese, I really think so
(think so, think so, think so...)

song performed by by Liz Phair
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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what do we do to Mother Earth?

do not burn
let the leaves fall to the ground
let them stay there
layer by layer
heap upon heap
let mother earth
hug all the leaves
let the affection be
strong and heavy
let the leaves die
and rot and become
water and become dust
to dust
let all of us see this dust
we shall do what mother earth
and nature loves best
to dust we shall return
and be its permanent part
close to the bosom
of mother earth
forever

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Domination Of Black

At night, by the fire,
The colors of the bushes
And of the fallen leaves,
Repeating themselves,
Turned in the room,
Like the leaves themselves
Turning in the wind.
Yes: but the color of the heavy hemlocks
Came striding.
And I remembered the cry of the peacocks.

The colors of their tails
Were like the leaves themselves
Turning in the wind,
In the twilight wind.
They swept over the room,
Just as they flew from the boughs of the hemlocks
Down to the ground.
I heard them cry -- the peacocks.
Was it a cry against the twilight
Or against the leaves themselves
Turning in the wind,
Turning as the flames
Turned in the fire,
Turning as the tails of the peacocks
Turned in the loud fire,
Loud as the hemlocks
Full of the cry of the peacocks?
Or was it a cry against the hemlocks?

Out of the window,
I saw how the planets gathered
Like the leaves themselves
Turning in the wind.
I saw how the night came,
Came striding like the color of the heavy hemlocks
I felt afraid.
And I remembered the cry of the peacocks.

poem by Wallace Stevens
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The Street

Here is a long and silent street.
I walk in blackness and I stumble and fall
and rise, and I walk blind, my feet
trampling the silent stones and the dry leaves.
Someone behind me also tramples, stones, leaves:
if I slow down, he slows;
if I run, he runs I turn : nobody.
Everything dark and doorless,
only my steps aware of me,
I turning and turning among these corners
which lead forever to the street
where nobody waits for, nobody follows me,
where I pursue a man who stumbles
and rises and says when he sees me : nobody.

poem by Octavio Paz
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Under the Violets

HER hands are cold; her face is white;
No more her pulses come and go;
Her eyes are shut to life and light;--
Fold the white vesture, snow on snow,
And lay her where the violets blow.

But not beneath a graven stone,
To plead for tears with alien eyes;
A slender cross of wood alone
Shall say, that here a maiden lies
In peace beneath the peaceful skies.

And gray old trees of hugest limb
Shall wheel their circling shadows round
To make the scorching sunlight dim
That drinks the greenness from the ground,
And drop their dead leaves on her mound.

When o'er their boughs the squirrels run,
And through their leaves the robins call,
And, ripening in the autumn sun,
The acorns and the chestnuts fall,
Doubt not that she will heed them all.

For her the morning choir shall sing
Its matins from the branches high,
And every minstrel-voice of Spring,
That trills beneath the April sky,
Shall greet her with its earliest cry.

When, turning round their dial-track,
Eastward the lengthening shadows pass,
Her little mourners, clad in black,
The crickets, sliding through the grass,
Shall pipe for her an evening mass.

At last the rootlets of the trees
Shall find the prison where she lies,
And bear the buried dust they seize
In leaves and blossoms to the skies.
So may the soul that warmed it rise!

If any, born of kindlier blood,
Should ask, What maiden lies below?
Say only this: A tender bud,
That tried to blossom in the snow,
Lies withered where the violets blow.

poem by Oliver Wendell Holmes
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And, Magic!

and so once again,
spring hath violated
the tomb of god,
and brought forth magic!

shadows dance,
seeds are planted.
life bursts through
the frozen casket...

light begins anew,
poets too long slumbered,
cast the webbing from their eyes,
birthing words into being.

thunderstorms, and magic.
the sun carries the hands of time.
summer dares come, wave upon wave,
poets dance naked in the moonlight.

lovers come together,
fission, and creation.
worlds are formed,
history testifies!

wine lusts for the lips,
as flesh for flesh.
the drums beat wildly,
death is but orgasm!

all too soon,
autumn aproaches.
the harvest of desire,
fires built in the night.

hair turns grey,
thoughts lose form.
leaves begin to turn,
and fall, tis magic!

and poets rhyme the turning
of the earth and the sea.
worship the shell shocked earth,
dance in the memory....

then leaves turn brown,
decay, and return.
poets lose their eyesight,
follow the beat of the heart.

the winter chill comes,
barelimbed trees offer prayers...
at the graves of the poets,
marked by fresh fallen snow.

words lost, or engraved forever,
in the coming of spring,
in darkness to light...
what else could it be...

but magic!

poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Silence Shall Be

i find this in the forest of trees
long trees, shady, such that what you can see
are only shadows of leaves
and what you hear is only the sound of the wind
choked between tight walls,
this is my silence,
moist, and soft, between a growth of wild
ferns
rotten leaves heaps and heaps of
rotten leaves
layer after layer of rotten leaves
thick and pushed still to the roots
smashed to the ground
some seeds from the oaks
or maybe from the flowers of the orchids
or some sweet fruits and red berries fall
in there
and they begin to grow
rich as humus is this soil down
the darkness of this forest,
this is my silence
deep inside me
moist, rotten, but soon
lots shall grow
seeds turning into sprouts
to trees again
perhaps taller than ever
some fruits so sweet and colored and shiny
some flowers scented and so lovely,
this my silence
shall be, i am keeping it for years

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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84

my silence shall be

i find this in the forest of trees
long trees, shady, such that what you can see
are only shadows of leaves
and what you hear is only the sound of the wind
choked between tight walls,
this is my silence,
moist, and soft, between a growth of wild
ferns
rotten leaves heaps and heaps of
rotten leaves
layer after layer of rotten leaves
thick and pushed still to the roots
smashed to the ground
some seeds from the oaks
or maybe from the flowers of the orchids
or some sweet fruits and red berries fall
in there
and they begin to grow
rich as humus is this soil down
the darkness of this forest,
this is my silence
deep inside me
moist, rotten, but soon
lots shall grow
seeds turning into sprouts
to trees again
perhaps taller than ever
some fruits so sweet and colored and shiny
some flowers scented and so lovely,
this my silence
shall be, i am keeping it for years

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Big Wheels

Ive been thinking it over
So many times they say
You got it made
They never understand
The answer lies within your soul
cos no one know which side
The coin will fall.
Big wheels turning
Baby I know
Big wheels turning
Baby I know
Big wheels turning, turning...
Save it for a rainy day
For when the cold wind blows
Just to see how they run
I thought theyd know
I tried my best, all I could do
But somehow it was not enough for you.
Big wheels turning
Baby I know
Big wheels turning
Baby I know
Big wheels turning, turning,
Turning, turning...
Chorus:
I remember the dead of night
A lonely light that shines upon the window
I see it all so clear
The tenderness, the silent tears
Out here in the pouring rain
Through cold dark waiting days
I see you standing there
I see the big wheels turning
Never ending, on and on they go.
I think Im going home
I think Im gonna have to start again
Its rather sad
Because Ive looked around, cant seem to find
Whatevers always rolling through my mind
Big wheels turning
Baby I know
Big wheels turning
Baby I know
Big wheels turning, turning
Turning, turning...
Repeat chorus

song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In October (from Coradoba)

In October
Sweet love was in
With the moon in blue
And turning shadows

My window
Kept the cold outside
Of nearly frost earth
And shivering leaves

The birds have flown
To somewhere
And the bare branches
Are longing for next spring

poem by Peter S. Quinn
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Matins

You want to know how I spend my time?
I walk the front lawn, pretending
to be weeding. You ought to know
I'm never weeding, on my knees, pulling
clumps of clover from the flower beds: in fact
I'm looking for courage, for some evidence
my life will change, though
it takes forever, checking
each clump for the symbolic
leaf, and soon the summer is ending, already
the leaves turning, always the sick trees
going first, the dying turning
brilliant yellow, while a few dark birds perform
their curfew of music. You want to see my hands?
As empty now as at the first note.
Or was the point always
to continue without a sign?

poem by Louise Gluck
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Nature Is My Guide

I look up at the hills
One of nature’s best
The leaves are turning now
Like an Eagle leaves its nest

The flaming red above me
A majestic color chart
For nature is from God
Right from His soul and heart

I watch as an oil rig
Sucks liquid from the earth
Another part of nature
Another kind of birth

I see the precious church
In which I love to pray
I cling to what I believe in
It brings me happiness today

It’s such a simple formula
A pleasant easy way
Let nature be your guide
For special God given days!

poem by Marilyn Lott
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In Autumn's Moonlight

In Autumn's Moonlight
Leaves dance by chance...
In winds of change.

In Autumn's Moonlight
Shadows turn yesterday's garden...
To a rustle of blue and gray.

In Autumn's Moonlight
A breath turns to mist...
and the memory of a past love...
is a cool tear, upon a brisk soul.

poem by M.Dean Everett
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Winter turns to Spring
Leaves returning to bud…and
Snow turning to mud

haiku by David Whalen
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For All Prisoners And Captives

OVER the English trees and the English meadows
Twilight is falling clear,
But my heart walks far in the homeless winds and the shadows
For those who are not here.

Youth and pleasure and peace and the strong flesh clothing
The freeman's soul, they gave;
Beauty they gave for a scar and honour for loathing
And life for a living grave.

But not of the least they gave was the English, mellow
Sunlight on beech leaves spread,
And the Squirrel flickering earthward to find his fellow
Where the chestnut husks lie dead.

And not of the least they lost was the calm star climbing
Over the elm tree's height,
And the heron high in the mists, and the hoar frost riming
The ivy leaves at night.

Night and the early moon, and the dead leaves burning,
And England secure and free
By the price of uncounted heartbreaks toward her turning
Across her kindred sea.

Night, and the smell of the earth, and the blue reek lifting
Straight as a prayer from the plain.
Loose them, O Sleep, to the sun and the beech leaves drifting
And the stubble fields again!

Night, and the robins still, and the long smoke folding,
The fallow on either hand,
And the spirits of those who sorrow afar, beholding
In dreams their native land.

poem by Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
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Meanings...

scattered
practically (hmm probably)
thoughts are
like dry, yellow, leaves
already unsure
from which twig did it
come from

no one asks about
the history of a leaf
no one

there are too many of them
meant either to be
blown away, buried upon their
own kind,
layer upon layer,
rotting upon one another
or simply just to be burned
heaps of them
turning into smoke
phantoms against
the rains of
dark skies

we are leaves

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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