The Blue Jay
With her light purple breast that gleams
a blue jay descends to the fallow land
where she dances around in sorrow
like a welding flame that impudently trembles
up and down where her nest was
in the burnt out thicket
and now there is only dust and ash
when sadly she leaves screaming sounds
and keeps fluttering to and thro.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Related quotes
Purple sunbird changes hue
The purple sunbird dances
dressed in shades of black
then the sun spots her
turning her into a mesmerising purple
so do we change tones
when love stops by
nudging gently at the elbow
reminding of gifts to bestow
in times of joy or sorrow
to many a friend or foe
be the purple sunbird
dancing and get others to dance with you
coz there's much to give
and lots to forgive
the purple sunbird dances on
there's much to celebrate in this unhappy world..
poem by Sreelekha Premjit
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Sensing Purple
Purple feels like a sigh
And smells like a baguette.
Purple tastes like a pie
Served by a string quartette.
Purple looks like violet,
With a darker sort of hue…
Purple sounds like lilac
Tuned to reddish blue.
poem by M.J. McGuire
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Childhood Memories Four: Dances With Gravity
down the rabbit hole
of childhood memories
we tumble into lost world
watching Father chase white butterflies
which eat our growing cabbage leaves
with a tennis racket with foot work
leaps bounds serves volleys never seen
upon famed centre court at Wimbledon
butterflies fly float move in fluttering
unpredictable motion dances with gravity
overcome baiting my father into youthful
dances on past childhood hot summer days
this game I too played mastered but why
so rarely in retrospect such fun so seldom
played among a host of unpattented games
to up the stakes for mass extinction Derris
dust sprinkled on cabbage leaves discolours
leaves white butterflies land leave unabated
but knocks out the sucking and chewing
insects for a six at caterpillar dinner time
when rain has not washed powder sprinkled
off cabbage leaves alas it is a no-win game
set upon set waiting for new service white
butterflies as they fly in from neighbouring
gardens the game goes on until we tire or
new balls spread danger word signaling with
broken garden bodies in game we can't win!
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Unplanted Land
Unplanted Land
Things made by man never impressed me, but the fallow land,
where I live, which is going back to nature’s way does impress.
On my walks I see how each plant strive towards the light, one
may say, as man seeks god, but here it is not about being better
or more powerful, it’s just nature. That’s way I see Eifel tower
as a symbol of power, pride and vanity. But in the back of my
mind an unpleasant thought arises: could it be that wars are
a natural cause? Nature’s way of insuring that only the strong
survives? That peace is like fallow land, beautiful but useless?
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Springtime of the Soul
Flowers scattered blue and white
Aspire cheerfully upon the ground.
Silverly the evening hour weaves,
Tepid wasteland, loneliness.
Life blooms dangerously now,
Sweet rest around cross and grave.
A bell rings its length of time,
Everything seems marvelous.
A willow softly hovers in the ether,
Here and there a flickering light.
Spring whispers and promises
And the damp ivy trembles.
Lushly bread and wine are green,
The organ sounds full of the power of wonder.
And around cross and passion
A ghostly light gleams.
O! How beautiful are these days.
Children go through the dusk;
Already the wind blows bluer.
Far away thrushes mock.
poem by Georg Trakl
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A Voyager's Dream Of Land
His very heart athirst
To gaze at nature in her green array,
Upon the ship's tall side he stands, possess'd
With visions prompted by intense desire;
Fair fields appear below, such as he left
Far distant, such as he would die to find:
He seeks them headlong, and is seen no more. ~ Cowper
The hollow dash of waves!–the ceaseless roar!
Silence, ye billows! vex my soul no more.
There's a spring in the woods by my sunny home,
Afar from the dark sea's tossing foam;
Oh! the fall of that fountain is sweet to hear,
As a song from the shore to the sailor's ear!
And the sparkle which up to the sun it throws,
Thro' the feathery fern and the olive boughs,
And the gleam on its path as it steals away
Into deeper shades from the sultry day,
And the large water-lilies that o'er its bed
Their pearly leaves to the soft light spread,
They haunt me! I dream of that bright spring's flow,
I thirst for its rills, like a wounded roe!
Be still, thou sea-bird, with thy clanging cry!
My spirit sickens, as thy wing sweeps by.
Know ye my home, with the lulling sound
Of leaves from the lime and the chestnut round?
Know ye it, brethren! where bower'd it lies,
Under the purple of southern skies?
With the streamy gold of the sun that shines
In thro' the cloud of its clustering vines,
And the summer-breath of the myrtle-flowers,
Borne from the mountain in dewy hours,
And the fire-fly's glance thro' the dark'ning shades,
Like shooting stars in the forest-glades,
And the scent of the citron at eve's dim fall
Speak! have ye known, have ye felt them all?
The heavy rolling surge! the rocking mast!
Hush! give my dream's deep music way, thou blast!
Oh! the glad sounds of the joyous earth!
The notes of the singing cicala's mirth,
The murmurs that live in the mountain pines,
The sighing of reeds as the day declines,
The wings flitting home thro' the crimson glow
That steeps the wood when the sun is low,
The voice of the night-bird that sends a thrill
To the heart of the leaves when the winds are still
I hear them! round me they rise, they swell,
They call back my spirit with Hope to dwell,
They come with a breath from the fresh spring-time,
And waken my youth in its hour of prime.
The white foam dashes high away, away!
Shroud my green land no more, thou blinding spray!
It is there! down the mountains I see the sweep
Of the chestnut forests, the rich and deep,
With the burden and glory of flowers that they bear,
Floating upborne on the blue summer-air,
And the light pouring thro' them in tender gleams,
And the flashing forth of a thousand streams!
Hold me not, brethren! I go, I go,
To the hills of my youth, where the myrtles blow,
To the depths of the woods, where the shadows rest,
Massy and still, on the greensward's breast,
To the rocks that resound with the water's play
I hear the sweet laugh of my fount give way!
Give way! the booming surge, the tempest's roar,
The sea-bird's wail, shall vex my soul no more.
poem by Felicia Dorothea Hemans
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To Alfred Tennyson
Poet! in other lands, when Spring no more
Gleams o'er the grass, nor in the thicket-side
Plays at being lost and laughs to be descried,
And blooms lie wilted on the orchard floor,
Then the sweet birds that from Ægean shore
Across Ausonian breakers thither hied,
Own April's music in their breast hath died,
And croft and copse resound not as before.
But, in this privileged Isle, this brave, this blest,
This deathless England, it seems always Spring.
Though graver wax the days, Song takes not wing.
In Autumn boughs it builds another nest:
Even from the snow we lift our hearts and sing,
And still your voice is heard above the rest.
poem by Alfred Austin
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Autumn Song
Like a joy on the heart of a sorrow,
The sunset hangs on a cloud;
A golden storm of glittering sheaves,
Of fair and frail and fluttering leaves,
The wild wind blows in a cloud.
Hark to a voice that is calling
To my heart in the voice of the wind:
My heart is weary and sad and alone,
For its dreams like the fluttering leaves have gone,
And why should I stay behind?
poem by Sarojini Naidu
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Tempest
You saw perched on a cliff a maid,
Her raiment white above the breakers,
When the mad sea reared up and played
Its whips of spray on coastal acres
And now and then the lightnings flush,
And purple gleams upon her hover,
And fluttering up in swirling rush,
The wind rides in her airy cover?
Fair is the sea in gales arrayed,
The heavens drained of blue and flashing,
But fairer on her cliff the maid
Than storms and skies and breakers crashing.
poem by Alexander Sergeyevich Pushkin
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The red weaver
The red weaver flies from a plate of bulrush
dances on a branch while it slap its red wings,
walking whistling to and thro,
before it whispers twittering deep in the reeds.
It flutters around draws sparks through the air,
swoops down at it's weaved nest
with a beak full of grass, twigs or some hay,
flies up and down and suddenly back.
There is something pretty to it that catches the eye
when through the blue sky it draws a glowing line,
when early in the morning it awakes me
when it hangs twittering at its small nest,
the red weaver flies from a plate of bulrush
before it whispers twittering deep in the reeds.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Queensland Opal
Opal, little opal, with the red fire glancing,
Set my blood a-spinning, set my pulse a-stir,
Strike the harp of memory, set my dull heart dancing
Southward to the Sunny Land and the love of Her!
Opal, shining opal, let them call you luckless jewel,
Let them curse or let them covet, you are still my heart's desire,
You that robbed the sun and moon and green earth for fuel
To gather to your milky breast and fill your veins with fire!
Green of fluttering gum-leaves above dim water-courses,
Red of rolling dust-clouds, blue of summer skies,
Flash of flints afire beneath the hoofs of racing horses,
Sunlight and moonlight and light of lovers' eyes
Pink clasping hands amid a Southern summer gloaming,
Green of August grasses, white of dew-sprung pearls,
Grey of winging wild geese into the Sunset homing,
Twined with all the kisses of a Queen of Queensland girls!
poem by William Henry Ogilvie
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Fire
This life that we call our own
Is neither strong nor free;
A flame in the wind of death,
It trembles ceaselessly.
And this all we can do
To use our little light
Before, in the piercing wind,
It flickers into night:
To yield the heat of the flame,
To grudge not, but to give
Whatever we have of strength,
That one more flame may live.
poem by Dorothea Mackeller
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How to make your wishes come true
She liked white and had not said a word yet
On her tenth birthday
she stood on the red steps
of the red opera house
-the red opera house on the north side of Sydney Harbour
almost opposite the white opera house
She scattered orange petals, yellow petals, green leaves and spoke
in a light blue voice
A bird of navy blue pink and gold feathers stood by her. Was this the grateful bird? Purple gold and white danced
She said
white stillness, pure gold, purple wonder, gold strength, pink joy, pink infinity, navy blue now, strong indigo blue, light blue fountain, the green first reason, compassionate orange, endless yellow,
royal red, single red, free orange, free yellow, green depth as clear as crystal, all attractive light blue, strong indigo blue, strong navy blue, pink wishes, gold compassion, compassionate purple,
gold of golds, of creativity, white of whites, gold truth, purple mentor, funny gold, pink friend of children, navy blue of nature,
indigo blue knowledge, light blue song of nature, green creation, yellow in senses, orange guide, red way, red inspirer, orange giver, yellow help, dazzling green, light blue of the delicate, with indigo blue eyes, navy blue good, with pink kind eyes, golden hair, golden complexion, purple complexion, gold warmth, of white space, white and gold love, of all purple knowledge, gold presence, pink in thunder and storms, navy blue pleasure, indigo blue beauty,
light blue lines, all attractive green, of yellow stirring music, of orange, red refuge, clear red, orange orange, yellow yellow, with green giving hands, of green, light blue truth, indigo blue essence, navy blue sparkle, pink with gold, purple guide, gold here, here white, white is the sun with penetrating vision, purple and golden constant winner, gold reach, of all pink, infinite navy blue, indigo blue knowledge, light blue care, deep green in greens, orange truth, dedicated to yellow, red peace, red glory, orange beauty, yellow, of green and light blue evenings, handsome indigo blue, intelligent navy blue, pink of pinks, of gold golds, purple purple, gold friend,
openness, formless white and gold, prevailing purple, efficient purple, purple origin, purple form, gold and permanent pink, navy blue belief, indigo blue blue, dense green, orange, yellow, red friend, red
and fell silent
Are the colours telling us that reciting the girl's words could make all our wishes come true? What else do red orange yellow green light blue indigo blue navy blue pink gold purple gold white know?
Today is a Monday
poem by Bhupen Thakker
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A Dirge For Minette
I
Silently, silently the new morning awakes
and your hands are crossed over your breast
while you go to the eternal rest,
and deeply, deeply my heart aches.
II
Colourful new flowers are flowering,
with insects buzzing, birds with songs to sing
while I miss you
during this early spring.
III
Blue as your eyes the sky
is stretching, open and clear
while in it multitudes of birds fly
and I wish that you were here.
IV
Far too fleetingly you were with me
and this remains the earthly thing,
where no one is free
from death and the way that it stings.
V
In the early morning breeze at you grave
my words are fluttering here and there, fluttering
while in sorrow they rave
and even the willows are crying.
poem by Gert Strydom
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May
LIGHT and silv'ry cloudlets hover
In the air, as yet scarce warm;
Mild, with glimmer soft tinged over,
Peeps the sun through fragrant balm.
Gently rolls and heaves the ocean
As its waves the bank o'erflow.
And with ever restless motion
Moves the verdure to and fro,
Mirror'd brightly far below.
What is now the foliage moving?
Air is still, and hush'd the breeze,
Sultriness, this fullness loving,
Through the thicket, from the trees.
Now the eye at once gleams brightly,
See! the infant band with mirth
Moves and dances nimbly, lightly,
As the morning gave it birth,
Flutt'ring two and two o'er earth.
poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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Still Sleepy (but cannot sleep)
a red rose with
sixteen petals
dew on one of those
three leaves
seventeen thorns
a blue butterfly fluttering
and now hovering
proboscis
connecting
dawn, cold air
twilight, light seeping in
my mind
three hundred sheep
i am still not asleep
in my mind
light, warm light breaks in
through the shutters
of my mind ....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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New Krishna
white stillness pure gold purple wonder gold strength pink joy
pink infinity navy blue now strong indigo blue light blue fountain
the green first reason endless yellow compassionate orange
royal red
single red free orange free yellow
green depth as clear as crystal all attractive light blue
strong indigo blue strong navy blue pink wishes gold compassion
compassionate purple gold of golds of creativity
she maybe dying
she is thirty one
white weeps white seeps into golden
memories of purple
lectures
navy blue pink gold
parties, poetry evenings and art
openings
with indigo blue
music
and beautfully spoken light blue
words
to green acts
of courage
to green acts of love
yellow self improvement classes
orange sex sessions and marriages
and to memories of
red plush homes
red inspirer orange giver yellow help dazzling green
light blue of the delicate with indigo blue eyes navy blue good
with pink kind eyes golden hair
golden complexion purple complexion
gold warmth of white space
a sixty year old man with a beautiful four year old boy
enter the room
“look in my mouth, look in my mouth, look in my mouth”
white of whites
gold truth purple mentor funny gold pink friend of children
navy blue of nature indigo blue knowledge light blue song of nature
green creation yellow in senses orange guide red way
the man says
royal red
the boy sits on the ground
endless orange
the boy touches the woman
compassionate yellow
the boy picks up a toy
the first green reason
the boy smiles
light blue fountain
the boy continues
to shout
“look in my mouth, look in my mouth, look look look in my mouth”
navy blue now
the boy touches the woman’s head
infinite pink
the boy touches the woman’s forehead
gold purple gold white stillness the boy touches the woman’s eyes
white and gold love
of all purple knowledge gold presence pink in thunder and storms
navy blue pleasure indigo blue beauty light blue lines
all attractive green of yellow stirring music of orange red refuge
clear red orange orange yellow yellow with green giving hands
of green light blue truth indigo blue essence navy blue sparkle
pink with gold purple guide gold here here white
the boys opens his mouth
the woman looks in
and sees
blue seas, blue rivers,
the round blue world, the sun, the moon, the stars, the universe, a rainbow
a crackling white fire erupts and enters
the woman’s red spine
orange groin
yellow stomach
green heart
lightblue throat
indigo blue ears
navy blue pink gold eyes
purple forehead
golden head
the woman smiles a white smile
white
is the sun with penetrating vision purple and golden constant winner
gold reach of all pink infinite navy blue indigo blue knowledge
light blue care deep green in greens dedicated to yellow orange truth
red peace
the boy dances
red glory orange beauty yellow
of green and light blue evenings handsome indigo blue
intelligent navy blue pink of pinks of gold golds purple purple
gold friend openness formless
white and gold
prevailing purple efficient purple purple origin purple form
gold and permanent pink navy blue belief indigo blue blue
dense green yellow orange red friend red
The man dances
red flame lilies
orange wreath bush peas
yellow glory peas
green basil, fenugreek, parsley, corriander, mint
light blue dotted sun orchids
indigo blue scurvy weed
navy blue podoporus spinulosus
pink wax flowers
gold sand patches raked in Japanese style
silky purple flags
more gold patches raked in Japanese style
white smoke bushes
The boys asks the woman for three wishes
The woman smiles and whispers
“Look in my mouth, look in my mouth look look look in my mouth.”
______________________________________ _____________
musical version 12 minutes at http: //www.jukeboxalive.com/music_listen_2475671.html
poem by Bhupen Thakker
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The Color Purple
a friend of mine is obsessed with purple
she says it's a royal color
fits for kings and queens
and she feels like a princess
on her purple hair
her purple dress
and purple bra and
purple shoes
the walls of her house are painted
the railings of the stairs
the windows
the doors are all purple now
the flowers in her garden
and the leaves of her trees
the grass
all purple too
her speech is purple too
the movies she watch are all in the shade of purple
her car turned purple too
royal color that is what she says
i tell her bluntly, ' You are boring, purple! '
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Flask of Time
There is a single leaf flying
in this my autumn gloaming,
a leaf fluttering light
as if being orchestrated
by your words in flight
rushing to my inner ear;
'I have fallen in love
with another you said.'
My leaf stammered,
swaying in its downward flight
unable to remount the tree,
terrified to crash the ground
suspended forever there
as was also true of your words;
better to not reach my inner ear
better to not have my leaf touch down dead.
Between us all these years
neither war, nor peace;
we existed in the troubled middle ground
purgatoried, unsensed, fluttering, leaf bound
frozen between tree and ground.
Now you have burned our tree down-
lit the leaf and made it flame-
and pulled from under us the very ground.
No matter the dead leaves, the burning tree
no matter the absent ground
these things will
in turn return
for the seasons never-end.
Therefore, I shall take my sip of sorrow
sipped slowly from my Flask of Time
and await
the Spring.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Welding torches, cutting torches and any activity producing a flame outside is prohibited. Any open flame is discouraged.
quote by John Glover
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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