Prodigal!
if your loving be
...the face of God,
then i am the prodigal,
...without name,
.....or country.
your silence drowns
...the small child in me,
......and leaves the body
for the birds of prey!
my destination,
...lost in the sands,
i leave no footprints behind.
...nothing more,
.....than a wisp of smoke,
planting icicles in time's garden!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
You can't leave footprints in the sands of time if you're sitting on your butt. And who wants to leave buttprints in the sands of time
quote by Bob Moawad
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Where I Wait!
bandaging the wound
with hands that dont connect
to your heart,
am i real? just a ghost?
a wisp of smoke,
the faint taste of rain?
stop running!
the riverbed is dry.
and the sound of the crows,
all that can be heard.
the cup on the windowsill,
empty and untouched!
the small child races
barefoot through the garden,
the paper turned yellow,
the inkwell is dry...
cobwebs in the corner
where i wait!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Aubade And I Am Not Like Other Birds Of Prey
Morning at last!
Every night is a fight till you're waking
Dreams dancing past
Through the silence of sleep
Dawn is breaking
I wake and watch them till then
And I am not like other birds of prey
And I am not like other birds of prey
Oh, night is long, you won't needing me
For a dressed up time I am there to see
That fear holds no sway
Soft is my plan
And my eyes kill the lies that felt happy
Life is my right
And in sleep's little bed
I'll protect you
So, hear, let my presence dismay
That I am not like other birds of prey
That I am not like other birds of prey
When hopes are young and your cares are few
Then I'm sure above keeping truth in you
And my name is love
Submitted by Michael Hack
song performed by by Supertramp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Footprints In The Sand
We are but pilgrims
traveling on this
journey
Leaving positive
footprints, in the
sands of time
The tide sweeps in
washing them to sea
again
but we must main-
tain
steady
through the floods
of time
When our journey has
ended
someday, we will
stand
before the master
planner
give account for our
footprints
left in the sands of
time.
poem by Heather Burns
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Beauty of Silence Reminds Me of You
It's silence,
I can let my thoughts free,
I can listen the flow of water, the leaves rustling, the breeze,
I can think of nice moments that we lived, you and me.
Silence is wrapping me,
I'm seeing your footprints in the sand as you go,
Washed away by the sea in its torment,
As the beautiful moments that we had and we have lost.
Silence is beautiful, makes time to stop,
Makes us relive those throbbing moments,
That we shared once,
That we'll never forget.
I adore silence,
Beauty of silence reminds me of you,
I thought of you in my silence,
Did you ever thought of me, my love?
poem by Cristina Teodor
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In a Country
My love and I are inventing a country, which we
can already see taking shape, as if wheels were
passing through yellow mud. But there is a prob-
lem: if we put a river in the country, it will thaw
and begin flooding. If we put the river on the bor-
der, there will be trouble. If we forget about the
river, there will be no way out. There is already a
sky over that country, waiting for clouds or smoke.
Birds have flown into it, too. Each evening more
trees fill with their eyes, and what they see we can
never erase.
One day it was snowing heavily, and again we were
lying in bed, watching our country: we could
make out the wide river for the first time, blue and
moving. We seemed to be getting closer; we saw
our wheel tracks leading into it and curving out
of sight behind us. It looked like the land we had
left, some smoke in the distance, but I wasn't sure.
There were birds calling. The creaking of our
wheels. And as we entered that country, it felt as if
someone was touching our bare shoulders, lightly,
for the last time.
poem by Larry Levis
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A Banaba Leaf
this banaba leaf falls from its branch
a child gathers it
and hands it to me
and i keep it
on top of my study
each day i look at it
like it is something so different
from the rest of the leaves
time shrinks it
time browns it
until its cells begin
to show its veins
until it turns to thread
crumpled pieces
until it turns to dust
until it becomes like the sands
of the shore
nothing lasts
in such a short time
the leaf returns to ash
on its last day
i gather what remains are there
on my palm
outside i sprinkle the leaf that
returns to dust
to air back to the empty space
back to the nothingness
our place of final destination
the world is hungry for this
dusts and sands
death to everything living
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Sands of Tıme
Yesterday.!
I returned to
the beach,
once again
to gather
memories
looking for
a dream.
happy
moments
were spent
there,
moments to
be cherished.
gathering
shells for
our
collections,
whispered
secrets,
laughing
leaving
footprints
in the sand.
Today.!
as I wander
back
only one
set of
footprints
remain.
the other
lost
forever
in the
sands
of time.
poem by Heather Burns
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Big Black Smoke
She was sick and tired of country life.
A little country home,
A little country folk,
Made her blood run cold.
Now her mother pines her heart away,
Looking for her child in the big black smoke,
In the big black smoke.
Frailest, purest girl the world has seen,
According to her ma, according to her pa,
And everybody said,
That she knew no sin and did no wrong,
Till she walked the streets of the big black smoke,
Of the big black smoke.
Well, she slept in caffs and coffee bars and bowling alleys,
And every penny she had
Was spent on purple hearts and cigarettes.
She took all her pretty coloured clothes,
And ran away from home
And the boy next door,
For a boy named joe.
And he took her money for the rent
And tried to drag her down in the big black smoke,
In the big black smoke.
In the big black smoke.
In the big black smoke.
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wil-O-the-Wisp
Enchanted Wil-O-The Wisp Wanderer
You cannot escape his sea-blue
Eyes View
For set in water they are
Upon this beautiful form
Of You
Cladden In White Chantilly Lace
A flowing gown of floral crochet
But somewhat sheer in certain light
Seen in his eye near the bay
You walk along the sands O' time
Upon the shorelines
Passing Scene
O' enchanted Wil-O-The-Wisp Wanderer
You are the woman of his dreams
His sea of blue eyes come calling
Beckoning you away from the shore
Perhaps, anew, A Mermaid borne
And a Wil -O- The- Wisp Wanderer
No More
poem by Theodora Onken
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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While it is well enough to leave footprints on the sands of time, it is even more important to make sure they point in a commendable direction.
quote by James Branch Cabell
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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While it is well enough to leave footprints on the sands of time, it is even more important to make sure they point in a commendable direction.
quote by James Branch Cabell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Lost Lines And The Lost Pages
THE LOST LINES AND THE LOST PAGES LEAVE NO TRACE
The lost lines and the lost pages leave no trace
There is no way to recovery
It is a one – way journey after all
Those who had hoped to live forever by recording all that they have ever done
Have been painfully surprised by the disappearance of the universe
That Asteroid that landed in the heart of all we are
Or perhaps that chain of violence in which our own Ugliness did us in
Or perhaps some other manufactured artificial virus
Or who knows what and why
There is simply too much future Time
Not to die at some point in it
The lost lines and lost pages are small and insignificant
We are in all we are also
Small and insignificant
Why God made us and what God really does
We will never truly understand
Small is all and we are smaller even than the smallest part of any thing
Nothing is and nothing was and nothing will be
Only now in the silence
As I anguished write this
Not believing wholly a word I have said
I wonder again why God made me
And if and how and what and why and where
We are all just not anything real or good or true or beautiful or love.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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The Sands Of Time
From the beginning of this own world,
man has shed a million tears.
Tears for the pain they've had
in their lives and for all the
wasted years.
But the saddest tears that
ever fell, fell not from
just any man's eyes. But
they were shed by my Savior
and they stained The Sands Of Time.
And as the Father looked upon His
Son, He had to turn His face away.
And as Jesus hung upon that cross,
He gave His all for us that day.
And as the tears ran down His face,
as He cried, mixed with the blood
that flowed from His side. Oh what
a sacrifice of love and it stained
The Sands Of Time.
Oh yes it stained The Sands Of Time.
It stained The Sands Of Time.
The blood that was shed for a lost
and dying world, oh yes it stained
The Sands Of Time, of time.
song performed by by LeAnn Rimes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Country Alone
There is dreaming land and happy country
Cursed and blessed by her beauty alone
The lost children of the country
Foreign in sweet home alone
Do not understand country
Hardly meaning own name alone
Some praise the country
Some leave and laugh alone
Emptying nectar of country
Satisfying their belly alone
Forget about future seed country
Fight living and growing alone
So tragic for the country
Eaten by her child alone
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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A Stone Garden
in the middle of this
garden there are two rocks
one is smaller
around them are
pebbles and some scattered sands
what you plant here is
the seed of silence
tomorrow when you come back
you shall know what are its fruits
its leaves are not green and its
roots are for your liking
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Early Morning Thoughts
early morning thoughts
as warm as the rising sun
as beautiful as the temporary
dew on the leaves
of the red petals of the rose
in the garden
time becomes a luxury
time that pass and
does not come back
does not wait
you stop
and reflect upon those thoughts
that stand by
like passengers of the bus
going to a faraway
place on an unknown destination
you become that bus
and you let them all in
filled
and heavy you start the engine
and go
and forget that you
are a farmer in the garden
and not the driver
of this bus on an unknown destination
you account for each
you stare at their faces
and begin to ask
their names
the place where they come from
the loves of their lives
their misfortunes
and the reason why they are alive
why they want to go away
why the want
to die
you grieve and send the sighs to sky
and then
you send them all away
you write.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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One Winged Angel
A goddess with grace
A demon with strength
Will be born
A child of faith
A child of wisdom
A child of might
The child will know the way to fight
The child will soar the skies above
The child will know a once true love
The child will sing a loving tune
The child will die a once full moon
A child of good
A child of bad
This is a child that cannot be sad
A wing of an angel on the left
A wing of a devil on the right
This is the story of the monster of the night
He walks through the day a normal man
Through the night he's one you cannot stand
Once a child of beauty and grace
Now a fiend of wicked and waste
He walks through the forest seeking all
Creatures of size big and small
In the night he finds a place
With a man he'd like to taste
Closer up he begins to walk
While the man begins to talk
A song he sings
The monster does hear
Calms the beast while so near
The beast begins to change its face
And once again the child of grace
As the child stands in wait
An arrow strikes to seal his fate
In the moonlight a child has died
On horseback the hunter rides
Closer to see his kill
In his mind for just the thrill
As he sees the fallen angel
A puddle of blood with body mangled
He cries in tears for what he's done
It's now time for the sun
The child rises from the ground
With a halo so very round
As the angel takes it's leave
The man now he so believes
Of the one winged angel.
poem by Cody J Walker
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In The Footprints of My Mother
In the footprints of my mother,
I shall step to you.
In the footprints of my mother,
I shall stay innocent and true.
In the footprints of my mother,
I shall not give up hope.
In the footprints of my mother,
I shall give you my love note.
In the footprints of my mother,
Lead me to a better path.
In the footprints of my mother,
I shall releive in her wrath.
In the footprints of my mother,
I shall cure all of your pains.
In the footprints of my mother,
I shall bring you great reigns.
In the footprints of my mother,
I shall unleash the angels of truth.
In the footprints of my mother,
I shall defeat the evils booth.
The footprints of my mother,
led me straight to you.
The footprints of my mother,
Shown me I have nothing left to loose.
The footprints of my mother,
Guieded me towards the compelling lights.
The footprints of my mother,
Guided me towards the love of my life.
poem by Erin Grantham
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The Dead Silence of the Heart
i dreamt of strawberry-rhubarb pie,
and fresh brewed black coffee...
long slow tender sensual sex,
lips hungry for mine.
the sound of rain in the night,
wrapping the earth in stillness.
walking in the frozen sunrise
with my old dog by my side.
climbing Hawksbill on a spring day,
looking down over the gorge in awe.
barefoot, planting a garden,
believing in the sun and the rain.
playing an old Gibson on the porch,
deep rich tones lost in the breeze.
the taste of good bourbon, and a smoke,
paying tribute to the sunset.
standing by the stone in a cementary,
talking without words, still heard.
writing poetry with a shovel,
and a borrowed pen...
flying with the hawk to eternity,
sprouting green leaves
on frozen branches... listening
for the sound of your voice...
in the dead silence of the heart.
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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