There isn’t always meaning
There isn’t always meaning
in everything that happens
and sometimes things
are rather grey than black and white,
but the grey is something
that bothers me at times
when I try to find answers
in what happens with my life.
I am sick of standing
on the sideline
as the game of life is always continuing
and sometimes I also want to plant
the ball between the poles.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Shades of Grey
Black is the color of the night
Grey is the shadow of you I sight
White is the shirt you wear
Black is your suit I declare
White is the wall you lean against
Grey is our path I sensed
Black is the memory I lost
Black is the road we never crossed
Grey is the prospect of the day
Grey is the taxi driving away
Black is the truth to never find you
Black is everything I can't undo
Black is my room without light
White is my color of hope in spite
Grey is the circle around my heart
Black is the truth like a work of art
© 2011
poem by Kristina Louisa Carr
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The Grey World
Grey nights in the wind,
And the grey-faced dead.
Grey hairs in my head,
And grey eyes in my mind.
Grey mists in the morn,
And grey waves that rave,
Grey mould on my grave,
And grey eyes forlorn.
Grey clouds in the sky,
And the grey world asleep,
Grey ghosts that sigh,
And grey eyes that weep.
poem by Leon Gellert
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Glamorous, Sophisticated
What a mess - what a terrible mess - trial and
error is awful, I should have guessed; grey - I
HATE grey, unless tinted blue, black and grey
in bed linen are insupportable - to combat the
effect I constructed a bulwarks of pink-purple
covered notebooks on my side of the bed
I shall hide the black and grey pillowcase tonight,
already covered my favourite pillow with something
else, grey sucks colour out of everything - I wear
black to disappear but my bed should be HERE;
this is awful, one of my biggest mistakes - still,
we were constrained, nothing else in the shop
I hate shopping in any case, my new T-shirt too large,
the glamorous, sophisticated black and grey without
symbolical meaning, I fight it with the pink and green
of my paper doll - how did I ever acquiesce to some-
thing as bleak and menacing as this - oh yes, there
was nothing else, I should hang myself!
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Grey, Grey Sky
Someday I will ride the great bird
Into the sky, into the grey
And will take a bright secret of mine
Into the grey, grey sky.
And the light will come, piercing my eyes
Out of the sky, out of the grey
Come blinding and searing these eyes
Out of the grey, grey sky.
And I will find comfort in this
In the wide sky, in the wide grey
In the painful dark brightness of light
Light of the grey, grey sky.
My secret will fly away home
Into the sky, into the grey
And the great bird will follow it there
Into the grey, grey sky.
And I will be riding that bird
Bird of the sky, bird of the grey
And I will come home once again
Home to the grey, grey sky.
But for now I am weighted, earthbound
One of the mud, one of the ground
And I write this sad song to sad sound
Girl of the pavement sighs.
poem by Grace Hutton
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Wrinkles and Grey Hair (Children)
Mommy's getting wrinkles.
Daddy has grey hair.
It wasn't very long ago
when those things weren't there.
Wish I could smooth the wrinkles out
and darken Daddy's hair
to stop the changes going on.
It makes me feel so scared.
Grampa, does it mean they'll die?
They have wrinkles and grey hair!
I never used to worry
before those things were there.
Grampa said to look at him.
There were lots of wrinkles there,
and on his head, a snowstorm
was the color of his hair.
'Wrinkles only come to point
where smiles were, here and there.
It's your mommy's turn to get some
for the happy times you've shared.'
His white, and Daddy's grey hair
well, it was there to show
who had lived the longest time
so everyone could know!
Grampa said it's part of life.
We love, we learn, we live.
We earn grey hair and wrinkles,
they're prizes only God can give.
Black and White (Stream XV)
I have black thoughts,
It is a black day,
A day when the black dog
Coal black, hovers at my shoulder.
I shoulder the burden.
Deep in the black hole.
Black as a black hearted night.
Negative.
Stark.
Black and white.
I do not call my good days white days.
Why?
Or have white thoughts
On a white day,
When the white dog
Pure white sits upon my shoulder.
Which is unburdened.
Out of the pit,
Luxuriating in the bright white light;
White as the purest snow.
Positive.
For we live in a too white world
Maybe we should have grey days,
And light days.
Why should Black be negative and White poitive?
For me then, today is a grey day.
Maybe tomorrow will be a light day.
Copyright P H Brookes 2012
poem by Paul Brookes
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Stories from the Grave...
Stories fom th' grave, speak their tales....on winds of faith
Methodically, we lay our wreaths and sweet moon orchids
Standing o'er the steel-grey rock, with conscientious hope
Our whispered prayers somehow touch th' soul we beckon
Death's voice...cannot be qualified 'less you've been there
Yet, i've heard premonitions voice......choirs with credence
Of Sunday stories taught by men in black with white collars
An' faith, born of fear, as to when our winds of Death come
Stories from th' grave, shed no light upon th' deep unknown
Still, we follow olde traditions, in hopes to find new answers
We'll speak to steel-grey stone, upon......soft, unleveled soil
In hopes that all these stories olde......be blessed with truth
Perhaps, somewhere beyond th' winds....lay all th' answers
poem by Frank James Ryan Jr.
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Upon The Eve of All Hallows {Sonnet For The Saints}
Stories from th' grave, speak their tales on wind's of faith
Methodically, we lay our wreaths 'an sweet moon orchids
Standing o'er th' steel-grey rock, with conscientious hope
Our whispered prayer somehow touch th' soul we beckon
Death's voice....cannot be qualified 'less you've been there
Yet, i've heard premonitions voice.....choirs with credence
Of Sunday verse sung by men....in black with collars white
Evoking th' fear of God- for when our winds of Death blow
Stories from th' grave......shed no light upon those sleeping
Still, we follow old traditions, in hopes to find new answers
We'll speak to th' steel-grey stone, upon soft, unleveled soil
In hopes all these stories dark, be blest in God-Kissed Light
Still many questions live, in deepest sleep, with our Saint's
Perhaps somewher' beyond all this lay th' hallowed answers
poem by Frank James Ryan Jr.
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Bright Grey
She says that he's pouring fuel on the fire
He turns around and calls her a liar
She says i'm trying to reach a higher plan
Someone around here's sane
God only knows if it's you or me
He says that she's jealous just like a female
She says i caught you i went through your e-mail
He says it getting so hard jsut to be male now
Somebody tell me how
God only knows why we're enemines
Hey - why doesn't someone say
This dull blakc and white should fall away
Please - tell me it's not jus tme
Can't wait until we're all birght grey
Bright grey
she packs her baggage and goes home to mother
he says go on 'cos he's sick of being smothered
how did it get this way?
god only knows how it used to be
Hey - why doesn't someone say
This dull blakc and white should fall away
Please - tell me it's not jus tme
Can't wait until we're all birght grey
Bright grey
song performed by by Joe Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Blue Turns To Grey
Well, now that she is gone.
You wont feel bad for long.
For maybe just an hour or just a
Moment of the day.
Then blue turns to grey.
And try as you may.
You just dont feel good.
And you dont feel alright.
And you know that
You must find her
Find her, find her.
You think youll have a ball.
And you wont hurt at all.
Youll find another girl
Or maybe more to pass the time away
Then blue turns grey
And try as you may.
You just dont feel good.
And you dont feel al-right
And you know that you must find her
Find her, find her.
Shes not home when you call
So you then go to all
All the places where she likes to be
But she has gone away
Then blue turns to grey
And try as you may
You just dont feel good
And you dont feel al-right
And you know that you must find her
Find her
Find her
Blue turns to grey
Blue turns to grey
song performed by by Cliff Richard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Descent Into Grey (Life Poem)
It could be the end of the world as you know it,
When change is a crisis that decolours your life,
If you choose in your blindness to only see grey.
You know nothing has changed, and it's just
Your perspective that turns day into night, but
It could be the end of the world as you know it.
It's hard to see good when the news is so bad,
With everyone nervous about what is to come,
If you choose in your blindness to only see grey.
Go back to a place when colours were bright,
Unless you can see that things are not really grey,
It could be the end of the world as you know it.
Try recolouring your life with Instagram intensity,
And switch back and forth to see it's your choice,
If you choose in your blindness to only see grey.
Repainting your world with your Instagram mind,
A perspective that is more balanced than true, or
It could be the end of the world as you know it,
If you choose in your blindness to only see grey.
poem by Ian Beckett
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He's Bothered Again!
Where are they?
Do they have him?
Will they know?
And troubled is he
Disturbed is he
Am I troubled?
How much bothered can his soul get?
Bothered about his own life
Bothered about bothering about his life
Bothered about wealth
Bothered about bothering about wealth
And weaker and weaker he is as the day go by
And worse still shall be his story
Because he is bothered about nature
And things in it
But he is never bothered about aiding nature
Or the things in it
Such person,
I am bothered about
Because he bothers to effect no change
And bothers that he hasn't effected a change
And why he did not effect any change
But not how he could effect such change
He also bothers about those who aren't bothered
He bothers for them
His stupidity is the source of their livelihood
He bothers why they do not bother
He bothers about those who effect changes
He bothers how long it took for such change
He bothers the risk taken
He never bothers how they do it
But he bothers if they were a bandit
And everyday, he keeps bothering
And knows not that he bothers his life
And his health
And his sanity
But those who bother aren't stupid
Except if they bother like he does
poem by Ivan Chizurum Ezeigbo
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What do we plant when we plant a tree?
What do we get when we plant the tree?
We plant the ship which will cross the sea;
We plant the pencils to scribble our notes,
We plant the ballots to cast our votes;
We plant the paper in which we read,
The news that o'er wooden poles we speed,
We plant the piles to erect our docks;
We plant the rayon for shirts and socks.
What do we plant when we plant a tree?
We plant the houses for you and me;
We plant the rafters, the shingles, the floors,
We plant the studding, the lath, the doors,
The beams and siding, all the parts that be;
We plant the house when we plant the tree,
We plant the barrel, the box, the crate;
In which to ship all sorts of freight.
What do we plant when we plant a tree?
A thousand things that we daily see,
We plant the spire that out-towers the crag,
We plant the staff for our country's flag;
We plant the shade from the hot sun free,
We plant all these when we plant the tree.
poem by Henry Abbey
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Continuing...............
Limitations are not for people for whom life is a continuing quest.
Boundaries are not for people for whom life is a continuing exploration.
Destinations are not for people for whom life is a continuing journey.
Harbours are not for people for whom life is a continuing sail.
Accomplishments are not for people for whom life is a continuing
Leisure is not for those who are always indulged in work.
poem by Meetika Srivastava
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Thursday Afternoon
Her life is a show
One act follows the other everywhere she goes
She takes the leading role
She never plays herself
Save for the time shes on the stage
Color her black or white
Now either one reflects the teardrops
One extreme for the other
Nothing in between
Color her white for the princess she could be
Color her black for the troubled child she plays so well
Well shes dancing through hell on a dream
And blue is soul of the one
Reaching for the man that she hasnt got yet
And holding on to those hearts for lost causes
She could be so bright
But shes reaching for us all
Color her blue for the loneliness she feels
Shes hiding her heart in the sky
And this is a thursday afternoon
Its just another thursday afternoon
Its just another thursday afternoon
Color me grey
Im a little bit of everything today
And Im not sure just where Im going
Color me grey
Wishing I was something more of distinction
Color us all cause were just stars
Wishing our lives away
Into the distance
And out of existence
Color her black or white
Color her blue
Or color me grey
Color us all - were stars
Wishing our lives away
Now were stars
song performed by by Indigo Girls
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Grey
Grey road stretched through grey rain.
Grey rain fell though grey mist.
Grey mist enveloped all,
all the eye could see,
all the land,
all the sky
and me.
Grey covered all,
all the way down to the sea.
Glimpsed through grey the swell of the ocean,
riding the waves a wind surfer surfing,
chopping, fighting the crests with swift motion
skirting the spray, sail unfurling.
Stopping, I stared at that sight in the mist,
oh how he came dancing over the sea,
right through the rain a state of sheer bliss,
the wondrous frolic rippling throughout me
making me tingle right down deep inside.
That misty image ripped all grey apart
a glorious vision of freedom untied,
returning tremendous joy to my heart
filling me up, bringing tears to my eyes,
emerging from grey a great love of life.
poem by Diana Rosser
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Grey Blue Eyes
I feel for the light
Your glory was lost that night
And no mind can't get me right
And now I'm praying that you'll find me out
Stone, stone has pulled me down
But my faith has got me bound to your grey blue eyes
Oh, oh
Oh, oh
Don't forget my broken heart
You remember it from the start
You made it and it's all a part
Of your grey blue eyes
Oh, oh
Oh, oh
You're gone and I know I'm dead
I've lost my way
Can't find me in your grey blue eyes
Grey blue eyes
Grey blue eyes
Grey blue eyes
song performed by by Dave Matthews Band
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bring The Beat Back
Black rain falling on me
Black rain is all that I see
Black rain colours the sand
Too fast I don't understand
False prophets talking about our life our destiny
Rain forest still alive sounds like a joke an irony
The air smells dirty we can all see pollution
To heal the world is not a game or an illusion
We see the world hunger not enough to eat
We close our eyes walking through the lonely streets
Strange disease there's nothing there's no cure
Cancer aids and much more we know for sure
Should we stay or run away
That's the price we have to pay
And then before we fade to grey
The message is love
The message is love
Should we stay or run away
That's the price we have to pay
And then before we fade to grey
The message is love
The message is love
Sometimes we get angry there's no focus in our life
When people get hungry they gonna learn how to survive
Homeless people concealed in the street
With no hopes and no dreams with no shoes for their feet
How many guns they have to melt they have to burn
Return to good sense when will we ever learn
Fighting this freedom for everyone for you and me
I know that this world is the place for us to be
Black rain made out of steam
Black rain to the extreme
Black rain what can we do
Too fast a nightmare comes true
Should we stay or run away
That's the price we have to pay
And then before we fade to grey
The message is love
The message is love
Should we stay or run away
That's the price we have to pay
And then before we fade to grey
The message is love
The message is love
The message is love
They've got drugs for children sniff to be free
They've got so much corruption this is all w
song performed by by DJ Bobo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Day for you (3)
may the grey arms of the morn'
turn into life for a day
may silver meet you just there
where your chest is hollow bare
feeling like a ladder on a stair
sturdy ladder legs standing stronger
on the grey arms of early morning
silver legs staring seeing
seven doves' innocent love
in grey arms of the dawning
Sick Little Game
Sick Little Game
Broken wings and a crooked smile
I think that you've been gone awhile
Betrayed and hurt alive but dead
A broken heart and tearful eyes
Not enough truth in the lie
Not enough love in your life
Blood and tears and your gone again
Your born to lose so youll die to win
Maybe if you could have chose
But i guess thats just the way that this story goes
No one ever wins in this sick little game
But go on and try and maybe youll find
The secret of the game
This sick little game
Of Life
poem by Queen Of The Damned
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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