Day of inauguration
It was a long night for me,
The trees were still,
The silence moving like a grave,
The wind so swift yet silent,
The stars fading and vanishing,
The day of inaguration
The owl flew past my roof,
The fear of mine manifested,
Waiting to hear her accept,
Or deny,
My window nolonger transparent,
The darkness approached my presence,
Set me free beautiful one,
The temparature decreased,
Movements i could hear,
But presence i could not see
My day of inaguration
She said yes to my request,
The wind became gentle,
The stars shined again,
And fear departed thee,
You made my day,
My day of inaguration
poem by Gaylord Munemo
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Night Of Fear
The silent night has turned to a night of fear
With windows howling wind into your ear
You listen to the spirits far behind
These things you hear are too much for your mind
The bell strikes and your spine chills like the grave
The chill that turns your blood from red to grey
You know that with these things you see and hear
The silent night has turned to a night of fear
Image on your bedroom wall
Shadows marching in the hall
Just about to flip your mind
Just about to trip your mind
Just about to flip your mind
Just about to trip your mind
The green and purple lights affect your sight
Your mother cannot comfort you tonight
Your brain calls out for help thats never there
The silent night has turned to a night of fear
song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Last Night The Stars Were So Many
last night the stars were so many
moonless
and i went on top of the roof of the house
and i laid my body on the galvanized stuff
i began to count the stars
at least i tried to use the numbers to please myself
and lull myself to sleep
like the way i have to count the sheep
the night was so beautiful
with the glittering stars
the wind was cold and there was this silence which asks me:
why am i not happy?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Single Silence Forever
A SINGLE SILENCE FOREVER
I hear a poem in me
It comes suddenly
Like the lightning flash of fear
We cannot run away from
When darkness is our only memory.
.
Why we live and why we die
What we are and what we dream
All that means so much
And has been said so many times before
Again rehearses itself here
And I hear it and re-hear it and re- hear it again
Because I know and only I know who I am not and will never be.
The fading stars and the distant lines
The signals of another world so far from us we will never really be in
All that is beyond and without sense and without meaning
And which we will never understand
Speaks and cannot be heard.
I am trying to say I heard a poem in me
But what I truly heard
Was only the sound
Of who I am
A single silence forever upon the hidden ruins of time.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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There is a darkness where you hide
There is a kind of darkness where you hide
while my years are dragging past
and sometimes I wonder if a day will come
where you are again mine?
Sometimes it feels as if you are near in my thoughts
while I am waiting to hear your voice over the telephone
and I wonder if the sky where you are,
are just as blue, if the stars there also kiss the heaven
and in astonishment I want to stand
when your eyes catches mine, caught like a child
on the day when you are mine
but in reality I may be searching
for something like dust blowing in the wind,
something that I may never find?
poem by Gert Strydom
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North Wind
LOUD wind, strong wind, sweeping o'er the mountains,
Fresh wind, free wind, blowing from the sea,
Pour forth thy vials like streams from airy fountains,
Draughts of life to me.
Clear wind, cold wind, like a Northern giant,
Stars brightly threading thy cloud-driven hair,
Thrilling the blank night with thy voice defiant,
Lo! I meet thee there.
Wild wind, bold wind, like a strong-armed angel,
Clasp me and kiss me with thy kisses divine;
Breathe in this dulled ear thy secret sweet evangel--
Mine--and only mine.
Fierce wind, mad wind, howling o'er the nations,
Knew'st thou how leapeth my heart as thou goest by:
Ah, thou wouldst pause awhile in a sudden patience
Like a human sigh.
Sharp wind, keen wind, cutting as word-arrows,
Empty thy quiverful! pass by! What is't to thee,
That in some mortal eyes life's whole bright circle narrows,
To one misery?
Loud wind, strong wind, stay thou in the mountains,
Fresh wind, free wind, trouble not the sea.
Or lay thy deathly hand upon my heart's warm fountains,
That I hear not thee.
poem by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
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And, Like The Wind
Free to love
Free to suffer
Free to heal
Free to cover
All of the pain,
Within me that remained
And free to pretend,
Nothing has changed
Free to laugh
Free to cry
Free to accept
And,
Free to deny.
I had gambled,
On love again!
But,
Like a wind
I-am-free,
To go.
Free to love
But,
Like a wind
I-am-free,
To go!
But,
Like a wind
I-am-free,
To go!
Free to laugh.
Free to cry.
Free to accept.
And,
Free to deny.
I had gambled,
On love again!
But,
Like a wind
I-am-free,
To go.
But,
Like a wind
I-am-free,
To go!
But,
Like a wind
I-am-free,
To go!
And,
Like the wind
I-am-free,
To go!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Gentle Water Bird (for Mary Gilmore)
In the far days, when every day was long,
Fear was upon me and the fear was strong,
Ere I had learned the recompense of song.
In the dim days I trembled, for I knew
God was above me, always frowning through,
And God was terrible and thunder-blue.
Creeds the discoloured awed my opening mind,
Perils, perplexities - what could I find? -
All the old terror waiting on mankind.
Even the gentle flowers of white and cream,
The rainbow with its treasury of dream,
Trembled because of God's ungracious scheme.
And in the night the many stars would say
Dark things unaltered in the light of day:
Fear was upon me even in my play.
There was a lake I loved in gentle rain:
One day there fell a bird, a courtly crane:
Wisely he walked, as one who knows of pain.
Gracious he was and lofty as a king:
Silent he was, and yet he seemed to sing
Always of little children and the Spring.
God? Did he know him? It was far he flew?.
God was not terrible and thunder-blue:
- It was a gentle water bird I knew.
Pity was in him for the weak and strong,
All who have suffered when the days were long
And he was deep and gentle as a song.
As a calm soldier in a cloak of grey
He did commune with me for many a day
Till the dark fear was lifted far away.
Sober-apparelled, yet he caught the glow:
Always of Heaven would he speak, and low,
And he did tell me where the wishes go.
Kinsfolk of his it was who long before
Came from the mist (and no one knows the shore)
Came with the little children to the door.
Was he less wise than those birds long ago
Who flew from God (He surely willed it so)
Bearing great happiness to all below?
Long have I learned that all his speech was true;
I cannot reason it - how far he flew -
God is not terrible nor thunder-blue.
Sometimes, when watching in the white sunshine,
Someone approaches - I can half define
All the calm beauty of that friend of mine.
Nothing of hatred will about him cling:
Silent - how silent - but his heart will sing
Always of little children and the Spring.
poem by John Shaw Neilson
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September 1961
This is the year the old ones,
the old great ones
leave us alone on the road.
The road leads to the sea.
We have the words in our pockets,
obscure directions. The old ones
have taken away the light of their presence,
we see it moving away over a hill
off to one side.
They are not dying,
they are withdrawn
into a painful privacy
learning to live without words.
E. P. "It looks like dying"-Williams: "I can't
describe to you what has been
happening to me"-
H. D. "unable to speak."
The darkness
twists itself in the wind, the stars
are small, the horizon
ringed with confused urban light-haze.
They have told us
the road leads to the sea,
and given
the language into our hands.
We hear
our footsteps each time a truck
has dazzled past us and gone
leaving us new silence.
Ine can't reach
the sea on this endless
road to the sea unless
one turns aside at the end, it seems,
follows
the owl that silently glides above it
aslant, back and forth,
and away into deep woods.
But for usthe road
unfurls itself, we count the
words in our pockets, we wonder
how it will be without them, we don't
stop walking, we know
there is far to go, sometimes
we think the night wind carries
a smell of the sea...
poem by Denise Levertov
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Silence in my world..
I lay back and close my eyes
As memories of laughter
And countless conversations, fill my head
I hear the wind moving
And the sound of my breathing
I hear the leaves rustling
And the sound of footsteps fading
The laughter is long gone
The only voice I hear is mine
As Silence invades my world
Mercilessly, thoughtlessly
Our song comes to my mind
And I struggle to sing it
But the words don't come to me
As Silence fills my world with emptiness
Deafening it, endlessly.
poem by Gauri Gupta
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Its That Fear
It's that fear
Ooo very scary! !
I bet you don't know it
Keeps you worried
It's that fear...
Very loud in your ear..
But not everyone could hear
It's that fear
Why? Y u even here
Leaving people in tears..
It's that fear
Born and raised
Can be of denial
Struggles, family or revival
It's that fear
That keeps consuming..
Consuming us in out! !
Eating us away...
It's that fear
The fear we hate
Come to us in pace
In life circumstance
It's that fear
Can anyone hear?
Like a monster or dear?
I wish it was fair..
it's that fear
Some say never fear
But in the back they tear
Overwhelmed can't even dare
Trying to overcome the fear..
It's that fear
The fear which keep us
Us alive and awake
Awake from unexpected
Awake to fight against
It's that fear
I want all to hear..
You and me here..
We need to chase Mr. Fear
We could make it
Make this a better world
Without the fear
The fear of loss
The fear of famine
The fear of war
The fear of poverty
The fear of religion
The fear of recognition
Why are we in fear...?
Can't it be there not here..
It's time to chase him out there
Leaving us in peace in here
It's that fear
The fear which is not only mine
It's that fear for all
The fear we both hear
Hear from different angles
Hear in different times
We all just don't want him here...
The fear we both imagine
An illusion body..
Could affect your goals
Never entertain that fear.
Moon Glow
The darkest night, flows with a
wind hush through open blackness.
Ya'ever see the moon glow?
Ya' ever hear the wind whisper?
Rivulets spill with water
across the mountain plains;
as liquid rolls down along the steep slope-
ya'ever see the moon glow?
Ya' ever hear the wind whisper?
Stars glitter through sparkles
of the darkest night.
Wind cold breeze swifts;
swiftly into space.
Laughter engulfs the moon light.
Ya' ever see the moon glow?
Ya' ever hear the wind whisper?
Moon light angles corners,
as sweet melodies swell into air,
of silence.
You ever sight the bird dance,
as shadow flicker
upon the moon?
Ya' ever see the moon glow?
Ya' ever hear the wind whisper?
poem by Celine Berghmans
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Face The Wind
Face the wind
Feel the pressure
It blows me away
It rushes past to God knows where
When I turn my self to stand in its path
Feel it Almost like
Radiant fingers Invigorating
Strokes energy through my flowing hair
Filling with joy my heart
Soul overflows with passion I feel
I hear nothing but the wind
It is everything in my ears
And when I finally speak
Words leave my mouth
And all leave presence
As wind captures them and
Steals them from the listening
To hoard them in its vast secret place
Far away beyond most imagination
Feel the wind
Speak into it your secrets
Taste, Smell its messages
Hear voices it carries
From animals and trees and
Storms and lovers
See it, watch its patterns
Where it comes from and goes to
Look at its journey, its traveling
But can’t
You can’t see it
But you can feel it
Somewhere it is deep
And its colours would be beautiful
Face the wind
Full-force you feel it and
It blows you away
Feel its soothing power
Breathe in life
Feel
Face the wind.
poem by Zoe MacRae
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A Poem of Night and Fall
I thank you for the moon at night
and also for the stars that shine
and basking in it heavenly light
I wish the universe were mine
A midnight breeze
tosses my hair
and blows the leaves
of hidden trees
into fall air
a silver light
shines on the grass
a rabbits flight
then safe at last
at home tonight
a silver silence
speaks its presence
to the world
and in the fading, evening light
the dew drifts down
behold, the night
We see the shadows running past
and in the corners of our minds
we count the summer days till last
and the beginning is falls time
the scarlet leaves are mine
poem by Elizabeth Shield
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Song - Sea of Sand
You sent me to the moon
Across a silent sea of sand
I was reaching for your hand
But you were standing on a hill
You launched me to the moon
Across the wind between the stars
I was reaching through the sand
But I was fading out of view
I was just a photograph
An old fading black and white
Taken by a passer-by
When the sun was out of sight
You sent me to the moon
I caught the desolation bus
There was no-one there but us
I saw your shadow on the sand
You sent me to the moon
Down every road we’ve ever walked
Every place we strayed or talked
When we were higher than the wind
I went searching all the stars
Between the avenues and bars
You were everywhere I went
In a different universe
You sent me to the moon
Across the frozen wastes of old
Where the howling wind blew cold
Where I lost you in the snow
You sent me to the moon
Although I didn’t want to know
But I built myself a home
Between the rainbow and the stones
I was frozen to the bone
In the icy wind of truth
I was free and on my own
In my castle on the moon
You sent me to the moon
Across a silent sea of sand
I was reaching for your hand
But you were standing on a hill
(Thanks to Tailor Bell for 'higher than the wind')
Since childhood the night scares you
Since childhood the night scares you
as if here in Africa dark things do sneak about
and when the stars appear you start to long
for tomorrows when the sun hangs bright in the blue sky
and it feels as if something almost touchable sneaks up on you.
Since childhood the night scares you
as if even the wind hisses at times like a deadly snake,
as if something dangerous is drinking water from the dog's bowl
and when the stars appear you start to long
do want to replace your fears with my presence,
and you want to baste in the passion of our love.
Since childhood the night scares you
and it feels as if something evil wants to catch you
when you sometimes find shelter in the bath
and when the stars appear you start to long
while I dry the tears from your rosy cheek,
and hold on to you through the night.
Since childhood the night scares you
and when the stars appear you start to long.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Message
Wind of the gentle summer night,
Dwell in the lilac tree,
Sway the blossoms clustered light,
Then blow over to me.
Wind, you are sometimes strong and great,
You frighten the ships at sea,
Now come floating your delicate freight
Out of the lilac tree,
Wind you must waver a gossamer sail
To ferry a scent so light,
Will you carry my love a message as frail
Through the hawk-haunted night?
For my heart is sometimes strange and wild,
Bitter and bold and free,
I scare the beautiful timid child,
As you frighten the ships at sea;
But now when the hawks are piercing the air,
With the golden stars above,
The only thing that my heart can bear
Is a lilac message of love.
Gentle wind, will you carry this
Up to her window white
Give her a gentle tender kiss;
Bid her good-night, good-night.
poem by Duncan Campbell Scott
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From this High Window
From this high window
the invisible wind
moves silent trees:
motion without sound,
dance without song.
Behind painted walls
and heavy curtains,
I cannot not hear
the tumult,
but opening the heavy door,
at last I hear the trees sing,
stirred to passion
by unseen hands
waving branches
swept up
by the compelling wind,
and drawn outside,
exposed and complete,
finally I face the clear maelstrom,
my own hair flying free,
and gaze at the trees,
wild men
dancing as they chant
savage hymns
to their howling god.
poem by Steven Federle
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While night animals were frolicking around outside
While night animals were frolicking around outside
you came to lie against me,
with stars shining brightly in the dark sky
and you wanted me to recite some poems.
Outside the wind rustled the potato trees,
you came to lie against me
while the golden moon for a time was wavering
and everything was pitch black around me.
Outside the wind rustled the potato trees,
before sleep eventually led me away
and jasmine, lavender and gardenia was on the wind
and everything was pitch black around me.
but in no dreams I could find you,
you waited wide-awake for first light
and jasmine, lavender and gardenia was on the wind
and the stars shined like jewels in the night.
While night animals were frolicking around outside,
you waited wide-awake for first light
with stars shining brightly in the dark sky.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The stars in the sky was bright
Last night the stars
in the sky was bright
and the moon,
was in a sickle shape
The five stars
of the southern cross
twinkled at me
and below them,
the two pointers
was sparkling much lower.
The yellow half moon
was grinning
and your eyes glowed
and shined like pieces
of tigereye quartz
and your smile,
sparkled like a string
of the whitest pearls
in the candle light.
Last night every thing
was much better than
just allright,
when I held you tight
and your lips
were sweet and soft
on mine.
I can still hear
the soft wind blowing
and the charms
playing their own song
and it was more than passion,
that joined us together.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Piper On The Hills
A CHILD'S SONG
There sits a piper on the hill
Who pipes the livelong day,
And when he pipes both loud and shrill,
The frightened people say
‘The wind, the wind is blowing up,
'Tis rising to a gale.’
The women hurry to the shore
To watch some distant sail.
The wind, the wind, the wind, the wind,
Is blowing to a gale.
But when he pipes all sweet and low,
The piper on the hill,
I hear the merry women go
With laughter, loud and shrill
‘The wind, the wind is coming south,
'Twill blow a gentle day.’
They gather on the meadow-land,
To toss the yellow hay.
The wind, the wind, the wind, the wind,
Is blowing south to-day.
And in the morn, when winter comes,
To keep the piper warm,
The little Angels shake their wings
To make a feather storm
‘The snow, the snow has come at last!’
The happy children call,
And ‘ring around’ they dance in glee,
And watch the snowflakes fall.
The wind, the wind, the wind, the wind,
Has spread a snowy pall.
But when at night the piper plays,
I have not any fear,
Because God's windows open wide
The pretty tune to hear;
And when each crowding spirit looks,
From its star window-pane,
A watching mother may behold
Her little child again.
The wind, the wind, the wind, the wind,
May blow her home again.
poem by Dora Sigerson Shorter
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