Twilight
In early evening the cell flares up.
Thin shadows slide down the gray walls.
He who cries out in mutiny exhausts into a dream.
The brown stillness sweeps over like a gentle wave.
And often a frosted light fills the choked room.
Figures beckon you to the spiritless circle
where the dance of the heavy coats dissolves into silence,
where dawn breaks into a ringing of bells.
poem by Ernst Toller
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Monastery
Up the long flight of stairs
every tread echoes from stone walls
as if to comment on how stillness
tells of sound its silent origin.
In the quiet library, the central table
bears a careful written message:
‘Silence is spoken here’..
and that’s truer than
at first it seems to read;
round the walls, shelves of books
as silent as the monks
standing upright in their stalls
witness words that seek to share;
yet ultimately, wave fare well, turn back;
speak of silence sought and silence found;
yet cannot speak of silence;
in the name of silence, take a book,
well-worn, from off the shelf;
meet it in the silence of the room,
read a few words, and lay it down;
glance at the other readers round the room;
fall still.
Here, silence speaks of stillness;
stillness joys in silence.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Dark Becomes Dawn
Dark as pitch - Dawn spreads light
Dark as dead - Dawn expires graves
Dark withers - Dawn freshness wears
Dark un-paths - Dawn re-strides.
Dark dapples gray - Dawn paints days
Dark specters doubt - Dawn assuredness' gate
Dark limitless plain - Dawn corrals night
Dark swifts shadows - Dawn hastens un-obscures.
Dark dissolves pace - Dawn zeniths one's range
Dark devours - Dawn sun rises
Dark bends down relief - Dawn uplifts sight
Dark dismantles - Dawn scatters golden arrows.
Dark de-flames - Dawn matches day
Dark invisibles - Dawn globes light
Dark unfolds dark dreams - Dawn un-sanctions screams
Dark submissively retires - Dawn crimson splendor.
'2008'
poem by Robert Sheridan
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Shadows Of Love
Shadows kiss
without kissing,
touch
without touching,
yearn for love,
never knowing
it's warmth.
Lovers smooch
in a doorway,
where light falls
from windows,
while shadows,
they drift
over walls.
Dancing
so spritely
they trip
and they tango
deflecting the light,
as they fly
and they prance.
They climb
and they slide
through a window,
all cosy,
lie down on a duvet
unseen
by sharp eyes.
They endeavour
to woo and when
time meets the sun,
light floods
the skies
and all shadows,
must fade……
It was good
for a moment
but moments
are fleeting,
as morning
breaks clouds
chasing shadows away.
poem by Ruth Walters
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Basket Dance
Dance!
Dance!
The priest is yellow with sunflower meal,
He is yellow with corn-meal,
He is yellow as the sun.
Dance!
Dance!
His little bells are ringing,
The bells tinkle like sunlight,
The sun is rising.
Dance!
Dance!
Perhaps I will throw you a basket,
Perhaps I will throw you my heart.
Lift the baskets, dancing,
Lower the baskets, dancing,
We have raised fruits,
Now we dance.
Our shadows are long,
The sunlight is bright between our shadows.
Do you want my basket?
Catch it!
Catch it!
But you cannot catch me,
I am more difficult.
poem by Amy Lowell
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Eternal Silence
Silence
Silence when we are walking,
Silence when we think,
Silence is what fills us all,
With a binding eternal link.
Silence in the little children,
Silence in the adults,
Silence wrapping around us all,
Silence pulsing in the walls.
Silence fills this hollow world,
Silence is the choice we make,
Silence is the death of this all,
Silence is our fate.
poem by Okami Kamikaze
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Dreams and Shadows
Flames, dreams, candles, shadows,
All dance in sight.
Flames on a far, dim hill, or near,
Close, in the night.
Torches, running in shadows,
Across the dry valley.
Candles nearby, flames alike,
Join in swift memory.
Lost wanderers, walking in realms,
Realms of cold darkness.
Stars fly to us, and dance, on the white,
Cold, flowing stillness.
Flames, and light, leap high, in the far,
Gray, hopeless distance;
On a ridge, hidden away, and dance,
Dance their reckless dance.
poem by Jerome Brooke
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Evening Shadows
When evening shadows fall
Minutes seem so long
When evening shadows fall
I'm waiting for the dawn
I miss you every night
Just about this time
You're always on my mind
When evening shadows fall
When evening shadows fall
End up staring at the wall
Even when you're gone
The feeling's all so strong
Want you to come on back
Back where you belong
So I can sing my song
When evening shadows fall
Well I'm living in a dream
And it s getting so late
And you call my name
And I'm wide awake
It might as well be night
Hope that you're alright
Well I just can't wait
To get you in my sight
I'm here every day
Just about this time
From dusk till dawn
When evening shadows fall
Well I'm living in a dream
And it's getting so late
And you call my name
Then I'm wide awake
It might as well be night
Hope that you're alright
Well I just can't wait
To get you in my sight
You ask me if I miss you
I say not at all
Only every night
'Bout this time
When evening shadows fall
Every night about this time
When evening shadows fail
You're always on my mind
When evening shadows fall
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Gloaming
Genie let out of the bottle
It is now the witching hour
Genie let out of the bottle
It is now the witching hour
Murderers, you're murderers
We are not the same as you
Genie let out of the bottle
Funny how, funny how
When the walls bend, when the walls bend
With your breathing, with your breathing
When the walls bend, when the walls bend
With your breathing, with your breathing
With your breathing
They will suck you down to the other side x4
To the shadows blue and red, shadows blue and red
Your alarm bells, your alarm bells
Shadows blue and red, shadows blue and red
Your alarm bells, your alarm bells
They should be ringing x12
This is the gloaming
Shadows blue and red
Shadows blue and red
Your alarm bells
Your alarm bells
Shadows blue and red
Shadows blue and red
We're alarming
We're alarming
And the walls bend, and the walls bend
With your breathing, with your breathing
And the walls bend, and the walls bend
What is he doin'? what is he doin'?
This is the gloaming x4
This is the
song performed by by Radiohead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Riddle 3
THE air is bright with hues of light
And rich with laughter and with singing:
Young hearts beat high in ecstasy,
And banners wave, and bells are ringing:
But silence falls with fading day,
And there's an end to mirth and play.
Ah, well-a-day
Rest your old bones, ye wrinkled crones!
The kettle sings, the firelight dances.
Deep be it quaffed, the magic draught
That fills the soul with golden fancies!
For Youth and Pleasance will not stay,
And ye are withered, worn, and gray.
Ah, well-a-day!
O fair cold face! O form of grace,
For human passion madly yearning!
O weary air of dumb despair,
From marble won, to marble turning!
"Leave us not thus!" we fondly pray.
"We cannot let thee pass away!"
Ah, well-a-day!
poem by Lewis Carroll from Four Riddles
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Prelude
As evening falls,
And the yellow lights leap one by one
Along high walls
And along black streets that glisten as if with rain,
The muted city seems
Like one in a restless sleep who lies and dreams
Of vague desires, vague memories, and half-forgotten pain
Along dark veins like lights the quick dreams run,
Flash, are extinguished, flash again,
To mingle and glow at last in the enormous brain
And die away
As evening falls,
A dream dissolves these insubstantial walls,
A myriad secretly gliding lights lie bare.
The lover rises, the harlot combs her hair,
The dead man's face grows blue in the dizzy lamplight,
The watchman climbs the stair
The bank-defaulter leers at a chaos of figures
And runs among them and is beaten down ;
The sick man coughs, and hears the chisels ringing;
The tired clown
Sees the enormous crowd—a million faces
Motionless in their places,
Ready to laugh, and seize, and crush, and tear ....
The dancer smooths her hair,
Laces her golden slippers and runs through the door
To dance once more,
Hearing swift music like an enchantment rise,
Feeling the praise of a thousand eyes.
As darkness falls,
The walls grow luminous and warm, the walls
Tremble and glow with the lives within them moving,
Moving like music, secret and rich and warm.
How shall we live tonight, where shall we turn?
To what new light or darkness yearn ?
A thousand winding stairs lead down before us;
And one by one in myriads we descend
By lamp-lit flowered walls, long balustrades,
Through half-lit halls which reach no end.
poem by Conrad Potter Aiken
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The House Of Dust: Part 03: 01: As evening falls
As evening falls,
And the yellow lights leap one by one
Along high walls;
And along black streets that glisten as if with rain,
The muted city seems
Like one in a restless sleep, who lies and dreams
Of vague desires, and memories, and half-forgotten pain . . .
Along dark veins, like lights the quick dreams run,
Flash, are extinguished, flash again,
To mingle and glow at last in the enormous brain
And die away . . .
As evening falls,
A dream dissolves these insubstantial walls,—
A myriad secretly gliding lights lie bare . . .
The lovers rise, the harlot combs her hair,
The dead man's face grows blue in the dizzy lamplight,
The watchman climbs the stair . . .
The bank defaulter leers at a chaos of figures,
And runs among them, and is beaten down;
The sick man coughs and hears the chisels ringing;
The tired clown
Sees the enormous crowd, a million faces,
Motionless in their places,
Ready to laugh, and seize, and crush and tear . . .
The dancer smooths her hair,
Laces her golden slippers, and runs through the door
To dance once more,
Hearing swift music like an enchantment rise,
Feeling the praise of a thousand eyes.
As darkness falls
The walls grow luminous and warm, the walls
Tremble and glow with the lives within them moving,
Moving like music, secret and rich and warm.
How shall we live tonight? Where shall we turn?
To what new light or darkness yearn?
A thousand winding stairs lead down before us;
And one by one in myriads we descend
By lamplit flowered walls, long balustrades,
Through half-lit halls which reach no end.
poem by Conrad Potter Aiken
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Early Morning Silence
Sitting in the early morning silence
that hasn’t filled with
the approaching days gloom.
That time when the mind
has a chance to run free.
The early morning silence
when no one is around.
The intrusive world has not
invaded our space with idle chatter
from sources that surround us
making up our daily lives.
The early morning silence
we need to activate our mind.
You sit in the darkness
just before the dawn appears
enjoying the solitary that is temporary stillness
brings to your ears.
The early morning silence
when no one is around.
16 September 2010
poem by David Harris
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By The Fires Of Hell
i kissed the cyanide lips,
of the god of my childhood.
walked the desolate streets,
strewn with human refuse and garbage.
under the heavy curse
of false morality and judgement.
to the edge of town,
where the hanging tree stood.
the sweat stained pits,
of bodies faceless and rotting.
a black and white movie,
dirge of the pilgrim.
walls made of wax,
and ideals with numb fingers.
church bells ringing,
forever just ringing!
why is it true souls are always homeless?
i hear the voices, i feel the weeping.
poverty breaks the glass,
and hunger melts the candle.
when sins become as real as death!
so who pays the price?
and who bears the load?
in the end we are always naked!
i wait beneath the tree,
by the shadow of the rope.
whose hands? my hands?
whose retribution? my guilt?
then soft as the wind,
and light formed from shadows...
i hear the voice of the Lover,
calling, from beyond the door!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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The Waking Edge
As I wake up in a room somewhere...
Dawn light not yet showing.
Theres just a thin horizon between me and her...
The edge of a half-dream glowing.
Well, you know, I felt her in my dream last night.
Strange how the sheets are warm beside me.
Now, how do I catch the waking edge?
As it slips to the far and wide of me.
Didnt I try to hold it down?
Freeze on the picture, hang sharp on the sound.
Catch the waking edge
Another time.
Familiar shadows in my hotel room
Are still here for the taking.
They seem to linger on as the street lights fade
And the empty dawn is breaking.
Private movie showing in my head...
Which button do I press for re-run?
And how do I catch the waking edge?
The edge of a dream about someone.
Well, you know, I felt her in my dream last night...
Now the sheets are cold beside me.
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bells Ringing
bells ringing...
thousands and thousands
of bells.... ringing....
the chorus of crows,
the sound of the whip
cracking on thousands
of backs, , ,
black and white,
brown and red....
the fat-bellied ticket taker
stands with hand outstretched...
cant pay the fare... cant ride....
left standing on the corner
of lost, and nameless.
marching to death, leaving
no trace, no footprints....
the bastard children of freedom,
no home to return to....
look up, look up!
the skies full of wings!
bells are ringing!
thousands and thousands
of bells... and each one
has a name!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Another Shadow At Dawn Standing By The Side Of The Sea
at dawn you are one shadow
against a dying light looking
for warmth because
the sea breeze is cold
because the sound of the
shore is one deadening
silence
you meet another shadow
and it is looking at you
and you do not talk
since the other too is
silent
both shadows decide
to depart and find
another direction where
they do not meet anymore
you thought that this world
is one lonely circle
you thought that this loneliness
runs in a circle
and so the two of you meet
again
and again you make the
kind of departure
silence to silence
death upon death
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Beauty at Dusk
The room is stilled
dimmed by evening light through
shuttered blinds
A perfect evening, summer spring
treees laced with early leaves
bright fields, sunlight on windowglass
an empty room
and silence
the brightness of the dusk is
blinding - more glaring than noon in dust
and the silence splinters with shrill throated birds
and distant laughter
til the laughter and the song seem silent too
part of the peace that oppresses this room
the beauty is too perfect
too real for me
poem by Geraldine Moorkens Byrne
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Appreciative Audience.
Soft moonlight filters through the trees
Which seem to dance to melodies
Created by the gentle breeze.
The shadows on the ground dance too
Or to my eyes they appear to
Disintegrate then form anew.
Sometimes the clouds blot out the light
The shadows gain a brief respite.
Rejoin the darkness of the night.
But clouds move on and when they do
And once again moonlight shows through.
The trees will dance, the shadows too.
The sun will rise to start the day.
The dancing shadows hide away
But where they hide no man can say.
The sun completes his daily quest.
Journeying from east to west.
Then sinks below the sea to rest.
The moon will rise she rules the night
Then once again to my delight
She bathes the trees in silver light.
The melodies played by the breeze
Will re awake the sleeping trees.
To dance again with practiced ease.
Beneath the trees reluctantly
the shadows still dance gracefully.
I watch in silence gratefully.
I know they do not dance for me
And I am privileged to see
The shadows dance under the trees.
Friday,23 September 2011
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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A Night To Remember
A Night to Remember.
It is cold here in this room that has wall paper
With faded roses on, which absorb the light.
From a 40 watt bulb stuck naked and hanging
On a thin rubber encased electric wire.
Too dark to read too early for a bed that doesn’t
Look inviting, I wonder who many losers
Have been trying to find sleep looking up to
Silence and asking the same question: “how
Could it come to this? ” I sit on a chair and look
Out of the window, dark shadows move some
With haste in the hope of getting away from,
Here, but they have yet to formulate, to where?
On a ship of dreams I sail, at dawn ice crystals
Glitters on the window pane and tell of hope.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Discover ‘SILENCE ‘
I discovered a stunning stillness,
‘SILENCE’ a musical wave,
My thoughts dint appear beautiful than this time,
I felt, I regained my inner dead Emotions,
And now ponder more on …Silence’s Beauty...
Silence is a mystery,
And a magical union,
Silence is of soul and heart,
And mind’s internal peace,
Silence unite love with all creations,
And form attachment with all disclosed hearts.
Silence belongs to everyone,
It is beyond word ‘SILENCE’….
It inculcates an extreme essence to fasten together,
And embody a true peace and love within and around.
Silence is present every moment...
And it alerts you to open yourself towards life.
Silence is present every moment...
Within the stillness of nights and peace of early mornings
Silence is present every moment…
To intimate its appearance in all worldly needs.
poem by Richa Dhodi
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