Boreas Wind
I shall carry your icon with me, I said
while my feeling on the wind, is spread,
a deity accepts my abstemious libation
without caring for my life's destination.
Sea waves, or songs beguile us, I said,
abut of a sea-shore to worship our dead,
an ornament to a dark Maenad's advent,
Because a stray dog barks to the world.
My words have fled along Boreas wind,
to reach a form, a dream, your silken glint
A glass spill of red wine oblation in mist
my soul flied, adorning your spent feast.
I recall your wishing lips, a smile of doll,
an image of a cumulus to carry my extol
Boreas blasted waving that mauve shawl
pain was obtuse, as my death enthralled.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
I shall carry your icon
I shall carry your icon with me, I have said
because an icon is a burst of feel spread
a deity submits it's absences oblation
without caring for our life's destination
The waves come, go, return I have said
because we care to worship our lost, dead
an ornament to an impertinent Maenad advent
Or just because a Hydra barks to the world
My words have fled upon Boreas wind
to reach a form, a dream, your silken lint
as they whiff, a world's oblation of this hint
my soul flies, adorning a lingering feast
And I recall your inner thoughts, a smile of doll
your image of a cumulus to carry my extol
as if we engaged upon our worshiped fervor
as our pains became obtuse, Nymphs enthrall
poem by Giorgio Veneto
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sentry Box 5th Feast
Obtuse is my thought, an error of links,
a valor of my memory, property to demise,
shelter my cause and my candles' wicks,
this advent of an older dream is not wise..
I recall my equities of long lost causes,
as there is nothing to approach my star,
if only a prayer.. Anxiety to rule my losses,
a cold poem of apostasy, is company to far..
Words, whisper me a tale, she bends above,
a bed of roses white, like purity, dim wail,
she cries my longing stills, trauma of dove,
waits for tears to surmise, in worlds to fail.
It was your face in the wind, a Spring haze,
my dream, it was a dry land, relentless ail,
my eyes opened in a world, outside of blaze,
for five years I waited, and you, death-pale...
A soldier in a bullet's straight adoring waste,
To encounter on April morn, a nefarious mist,
a shot, a shot, my ears died, a Crimson taste,
I smile on my year 5th, of sentry box's feast.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sheffield knife
On equinox coastal unguarded brims,
forever far spent beacon's life,
small imperfection, a riddance still,
moon-flash on a Sheffield knife.
I hear his voices in this mauve dawn,
a resolution of his life's altruism,
the images he left before gone,
of odd Styx rife adventism..
One instant of hypothesis his glance,
a tragic wilt, distance of stare,
it was a never equation to solve,
a wine's spill, dim marquee of despair.
I 'll go away from that coastal of Aden,
assuming earth will be mine,
Sunday's sweet, mane of a maiden's mist
and a recall of a wilted sign..
An image of a kid in Sundays feasts,
with my voice of our friendship's skies,
of those that escaped in high mists,
sad advent will be, our shipmate's eyes.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I Heard You Spelling My Name
I oddly heard you spelling my name
I answered in the winter winds
the winds blamed my voice still -
your words, a gray cumulus became.
A thunder roar, a storm advent
a message to the gods, dim, latent
my souls depict a thunder's wrath
as I expiate in rain drops thrust.
Not an allusion of a Zeus lightning
all there is real, a force blinding
Athermanous, wet flesh enthralled
and rain-scattered feelings exposed.
I love those drops that kiss my face,
in my esteem, a diamonds edge to trace,
accepts the kindness of this storm,
and this adoration becomes a thorn.
that sweetly penetrates my dream
that attentively out traces my smile
that lovingly stings my eyes gleam
and my words for you compile.
I heard you spelling my name; 't was
a dithering in the winds to abide
the winds became then my voice's loss,
my life, a cumulus became and died.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Autumn Wind
Autumn wind carry me away
To a loving place in which to stay
Where the sun shines above the bay
With kind words in which to say
Where love will flourish every day
Just hold me close
In my world you mean the most
Like the sun rising over the coast
Sitting by the fire pit
Marshmallows on a stick to roast
Champagne for us to toast
Autumn wind carry me away
To a place far away
Where the passion comes to stay
Where the winds of romance blows this way
With a love that lasts all day
Autumn wind carry me away
Autumn wind have your say
Autumn wind save my day
Autumn wind come to stay
poem by Joseph Whelan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Beahcomber Dog
Beachcomber dog is on my trail,
windy company, late December;
distracts my glance; a mute tale,
within his shiny eyes and amber.
A fervent dog, paces on shore,
sniffing my footsteps as I walk
December is gray, an icy hoar,
sea waves on monotonous talk.
I turn to see, the friendly dog,
a kind smile! Maybe a biscuit
if I could find! a dark icon in fog,
much he 'd like a tasty brisket!
The wind spells around the dog,
his bitter cold is apt to remind,
that we are firmed upon a clog,
on aimless course, a port to find.
A strange dog, on random stroll,
I left in fog years ago, his bark,
I hear; eyes appear like odd call
and old spirits salute me in dark.
I turn to approach the stray dog,
but he 's not there, flied in air,
marginal aptitude, figure in fog
marginal solitude a dusk despair.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Available Light
Words by neil peart, music by geddy lee and alex lifeson
The restless wind
Has seen all things
In every kind of light
Rising with the full moon
To go howling through the night
The sleepless wind
Has heard all things
Between the sea and sky
In the canyons of the city
You can hear the buildings cry
Oh the wind can carry
All the voices of the sea
Oh the wind can carry
All the echoes home to me
Run with wind and weather
To the music of the sea
All four winds together
Cant bring the world to me
Chase the wind around the world
I want to look at life --- in the available light
Play of light
A photograph
The way I used to be
Some half-forgotten stranger
Doesnt mean that much to me
Trick of light
Moving picture
Moments caught in flight
Make the shadows darker
Or the colors shine too bright
Oh the light can carry
All the visions of the sea
Oh the light can carry
All the images to me
Run to light from shadow
Sun gives me no rest
Promise offered in the east
Broken in the west
Chase the sun around the world
I want to look at life --- in the available light
All four winds together
Cant bring the world to me
Shadows hide the play of light
So much I want to see
Chase the light around the world
I want to look at life --- in the available light
Ill go with the wind
Ill stand in the light
song performed by by Rush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Red Wine Spill
Red wine spill
Her voice I waited for, amid the foliage shades,
now with the oncoming of her Spring, she fades;
She appeared once; a tear of my soul to dither,
then she lifted in cumulus, where winds blither;
Zephyr was traveling above, my lone assession,
My penitence she kissed along, and aspersion;
A red wine spill betimes, diluted days of rain,
diluted rain's wine spill, of tear drops to attain;
Winds blither - she appeared once; in my tear,
a laughing gust of the wind, my soul to shear;
And then her wraith shadow, guided my hopes,
To laugh again among the winds, and new scopes;
To laugh with me amidst the winds, she 'll come,
Life will reach an apogee, and heart will thrum;
To laugh with me amidst the raindrops, in clouds,
with a boat to float in winds from sails' shrouds;
_________
shrouds = (nautical) a line (rope or chain) that regulates
the angle at which a sail is set in relation to the wind.
_________
Copyright © - G. V.- 03.29.2012
/ PoemH.30459086
poem by Giorgio Veneto
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Blunt brumal thorn
Make of your pain
a musical hymn
And become
a nightingale
become
a tangerine
and a yellow rose
misty years will flash
your pain
will be a dance
your tear
a thorny rose
and I, a pomegranate
and a missed
pentagram note!
Let all your wounds
uncovered
I 'll send
branches of sage
My words
will be on stage
for soothing,
or routes of bliss
Do not cover
those wounds
or your internal red.
Bestow to gods
a red wine
libation
of only contempt
I extol this
bitter attempt
I extort
my days' peace
to be a blunt
brumal thorn
in a bouquet
of yellow roses
So we will dance
or be
sacrifices
to a lesser god.
Make of your pain
a harmony;
offer a dew
of morning mist
upon your wounds'
marginal brim
maintain of your face
a smile thin
as if pomegranates
tasted sweet
maybe this pain
in me became sharp!
and Sirens' call's
my smile's feast.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Deep Blue
A solitude of ghostly spill, a dim dispersion,
forgotten sand in eternity's hourglass,
sailors distinguish this life as an obsession,
warriors so expendable, across surpass.
My obsequies in sea, a trinket of dispersion,
recall me lost in January, found in May,
my dreams convert my demise to affection,
and my epitaph became a crossed dismay.
Thud Thud, sounds in sleep, wind-sail-blasts,
She may be the ultimate mens beguile,
Impertinent of a deity, waves on masts,
With her ambrosian sovereign touch and smile..
Maybe I 'll fly with her above a lonely steppe
my solitude will dream of her, as I 'll hark,
word of a priestess form, Delphic corax step,
expended in Stygian terre oblong, as Hydras bark.
Oh, Mother of all my ailments, effusive in cold air..
You who had bestowed my analogy on earth,
and blue Naiads who solemnly, filled my stare,
deep blue I claimed you, in ocean's cold hearth..
poem by Giorgio Veneto
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Life Is A Flower
We live in a free world
I whistle down the wind
Carry on smiling
And the world will smile with you
Life is a flower
So precious in your hand
Carry on smiling
And the world will smile with you
When every race is run
And the day is closing in
I dont care about the world
Im living for the light
Dont cry for me today, ah-ah ah...
We live in a free world
I whistle down the wind...
I can not be your judge
Mr. jailer is your host
Hes keeping you inside
And hides you from the world
No catcher in the rye
Can help you from yourself
We live in a free world
I whistle down the wind...
Please mr. agony
Release them for a while
Learn them the consequences of
Living without life
We live in a free world...
(repeat & fade)
song performed by by Ace Of Base
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Mirror, Mirror On The Wall
Mirror mirror on the wall
You reflect the image of how far we fall
from grace as we consider the face
we believe ourselves to be.
Is that all that most of us see?
We are fooled by that looking glass.
And yet we glimpse at it as we pass
all of our imperfections we carry around.
But inside our eyes what is found
is the soul that accepts all of our flaws.
Mirror, mirror on the wall
I must always try to recall
who I am and always shall be.
It's certainly not just what I see.
For I am more than my image shows,
more than my figure, my height, my pose.
I am who I've always been,
not this body that I find I'm in.
I am the earth, the sun, the moon.
I am the morn, the night, the noon.
And so I say to my mirrored wall.
'You can't ever reflect me.
For you don't know me at all.'
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Carry The Torch
carry the torch high
through storms, wind,
and waves....
through battles against
forces unseen and unknown....
through night and day....
through want and need,
through living and death,
through prayer and doubt...
through hope and hopelessness....
carry it high, carry it always!
the torch that can only be lit
with human kindness!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I will beguile him with the tongue
Reason says, “ I will beguile him with the tongue.”; Love says,
“Be silent. I will beguile him with the soul.”
The soul says to the heart, “Go, do not laugh at me and yourself.
What is there that is not his, that I may beguile him
thereby?”
He is not sorrowful and anxious and seeking oblivion that I
may beguile him with wine and a heavy measure.
The arrow of his glance needs not a bow that I should beguile
the shaft of his gaze with a bow.
He is not prisoner of the world, fettered to this world of earth,
that I should beguile him with gold of the kingdom of the world.
He is an angel, though in form he is a man; he is not lustful
that I should beguile him with women.
Angels start away from the house wherein this form is, so how
should I beguile him with such a form and likeness?
He does not take a flock of horses, since he flies on wings; his
food is light, so how should I beguile him with bread?
He is not a merchant and trafficker in the market of the world
that I should beguile him with enchantment of grain and loss.
He is not veiled that I should make myself out sick and utter
sighs, to beguile him with lamentation.
I will bind my head and bow my head, for I have got out of
hand; I will not beguile his compassion with sickness or fluttering.
Hair by hair he sees my crookedness and feigning; what’s
hidden from him that I should beguile him with anything hidden.
He is not a seeker of fame, a prince addicted to poets, that I
should beguile him with verses and lyrics and flowing poetry.
The glory of the unseen form is too great for me to beguile it
with blessing or Paradise.
Shams-e Tabriz, who is his chosen and beloved–perchance I
will beguile him with this same pole of the age.
Reason says love says
Reason says, “ I will beguile him with the tongue.”; Love says,
“Be silent. I will beguile him with the soul.”
The soul says to the heart, “Go, do not laugh at me and yourself.
What is there that is not his, that I may beguile him
thereby?”
He is not sorrowful and anxious and seeking oblivion that I
may beguile him with wine and a heavy measure.
The arrow of his glance needs not a bow that I should beguile
the shaft of his gaze with a bow.
He is not prisoner of the world, fettered to this world of earth,
that I should beguile him with gold of the kingdom of the world.
He is an angel, though in form he is a man; he is not lustful
that I should beguile him with women.
Angels start away from the house wherein this form is, so how
should I beguile him with such a form and likeness?
He does not take a flock of horses, since he flies on wings; his
food is light, so how should I beguile him with bread?
He is not a merchant and trafficker in the market of the world
that I should beguile him with enchantment of grain and loss.
He is not veiled that I should make myself out sick and utter
sighs, to beguile him with lamentation.
I will bind my head and bow my head, for I have got out of
hand; I will not beguile his compassion with sickness or fluttering.
Hair by hair he sees my crookedness and feigning; what’s
hidden from him that I should beguile him with anything hidden.
He is not a seeker of fame, a prince addicted to poets, that I
should beguile him with verses and lyrics and flowing poetry.
The glory of the unseen form is too great for me to beguile it
with blessing or Paradise.
Shams-e Tabriz, who is his chosen and beloved–perchance I
will beguile him with this same pole of the age.
Thyrses
Guess you 'll ask me by the side
of that road we passed together,
where promises denied to tether,
my floating message on the tide.
So there, I shall recount I am not,
the one you knew amid the drifts,
as our blue dreams flied in griefs,
as a small solitude was our knot.
Vineyards had grown kin to rails,
arcanum train, distanced to fade,
a northern wind like cutting blade,
was a companion on aright trails.
There you cared to invite a song,
that flied along years to ascribe,
a feast of man agon and describe,
how his aureate sounded wrong.
Denoted flight in school verses,
wild dreams were not a burden,
a lone smile threshold to heaven,
fields of embraces and thyrses.
You flied to spaces, winds stray,
eager to sing one more laughter,
sun rays are now a dream rafter,
that blithes, a nostalgia to allay.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Who Has Seen The Wind?
Original lyrics by christina rossetti (1830 - 1894)
Who has seen the wind?
Neither you nor i.
But when the trees bow down their heads
The wind is passing by.
Who has seen the wind?
Neither you nor i.
But when the trees bow down their heads
The wind is passing by.
Oh, wind, wind,
Wind, wind, wind.
Who has seen enough?
Only me and john.
But when a smile goes round the world
Our love is catching on.
Oh, smile, smile,
Smile, smile, smile.
Who has seen your dream?
Only you and him.
But when the world gets bright and clear
You know that we were there.
Oh, world, world,
World, world, world.
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
SEA-MAD (A Breton Maid)
Three waves of the sea came up on the wind to me!
One said:
"Away! he is dead!
Upon my foam I have flung his head!
Go back to your cote, you never shall wed!—
(Nor he!)"
Three waves of the sea came up on the wind to me.
Two brake.
The third with a quake
Cried loud, "O maid, I'll find for thy sake
His dead lost body: prepare his wake!"
(And back it plunged to the sea!)
Three waves of the sea came up on the wind to me.
One bore—
And swept on the shore—
His pale, pale face I shall kiss no more!
Ah, woe to women death passes o'er!
(Woe's me!)
poem by Cale Young Rice from Sea Poems (1921)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
Vote! | Copy!
Song - Drummore
Deep in my heart lie mem’ries so sweet
Sunshine o’er Cail’ness, sea at my feet
Wind in the barley drove golden waves
Carry me free to Drummore once again
Down on the Creechan the Isles of Marie
Rose on the ebb like friends from the sea
Round by the foghorn where fulmars glide
Fishermen dangled their dreams in the tide
Only a dream now, Mary has flown
Reckless we plough, and reap what we’ve sown
Time runs so swiftly, soon we grow old
Carry me home to Drummore by the shore
Still there’s a world there, where Fingals thrive
Where even strangers feel they’re alive
Down at East Tarbet, high on the cliffs
Carry me back to the thrill of her kiss
chorus)
Carry me back there; it’s where I belong
Home in Kirkmaiden adrift on her song
Watching the breakers wash up her wild shore
As we walk round the point of Curghie to Drummore
(As we gaze o’er the bay from Curghie to drummore)
(As we think on the loved ones we’ll ne’er hold no more)
14 02 11
[Month of] June
Rise up, and do begin the day's adorning;
The Summer dark is but the dawn of day.
The last of sunset fades into the morning,
The morning calls you from the dark away.
The holy mist, the white mist of the morning,
Was wreathing upward on my lonely way.
The way was waiting for your own adorning
That should complete the broad adorned day.
Rise up, and do begin the day's adorning;
The little eastern clouds are dapple grey:
There will be wind among the leaves to-day;
It is the very promise of the morning.
Lux Tua Via Mea: your light's my way -
Then do rise up and make it perfect day.
poem by Hilaire Belloc
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!