Lights in the Sky
Runaway flashes of
runway gold dust
trails of silverfish scales
fuel streams soaring
swallowed in a gaseous
green cavern of ghastly
spotlight neath the stars
venus recedes behind
a faint opaque
swirl of strata
the moon performs
upon the shifting stage
peekaboo slow dance
celestial seduction
dipping diving
devoured
in a well of murky
mauve shadow
manifesting in a
sudden pond of
regenerate phantom saphire
the overhead roar
air born icons of
industrialization
ripping skyline silence
red white blue crosses
crusading the sky
progress jetting onward
into some far off
cloud obscured oblivion
poem by Gregory Allen Uhan
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Related quotes
Guests of Sun, Moon
the sun has fins
it swims through
the clear blue sky
casting lights off
its shimmering
gold scales
the moon has legs
it runs and glides
through the dark night
a lantern in hand
lighting up a poetic
landscape
the stars are
clever dancers
that twist, twirl, swirl,
in glistening
celestial outfits
at the behest
of sun and moon
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet: The Cloud
Ye behold me, roaming in the blue sky!
In numerous colors and shapes awhile;
Driven by wind-power, The Cloud am I!
Floating like fleeces for many a mile.
The Rain, I bring to the thirsting earth-ball,
Heralded by peels of thunder and light;
I’m the cynosure of the skyline stall!
The stars and moon dread me during the night.
A pygmy cloud suffices moon to hide;
Sometimes, I block the sun too at noon-time;
Like skied a lion, I roar and I chide,
Bringing thunder-squalls, rain-storms, gales sometime.
I am the Cloud! If not for me the sky
Would be an artless blank page for the eye.
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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White Shadow
Ten coaches roll into the dust
Chrome windows turned to rust
'hand on inside they know they must
Hanging on the green backed words "in god we trust"
No one knew if the spirit died
All wrapped to go like kentucky fried
Tring to read the flight of birds
Low on fuel, getting low on words
And she comes out like a white shadow
She comes out like a white shadow
Each one drawn to empty spaces
Outsiders, borderline cases
It's hard to tell black from white
When you wake up in the middle of the night
Weighed down by the absence of sound
Broken now by the cry of a hound
Looking for movement withing the haze
Light can be deceptive with her rays
And she comes out like a white sadow
And she comes out like a white shadow
She comes out like a white shadow
song performed by by Peter Gabriel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Runaway Jim
I had a dog.
His name was Jim
(Runaway, runaway, runaway)
Took all of my old clothes with him.
(Runaway, runaway, runaway)
Whoa-ooooooooooooooo oh Runaway Jim
Whoa-ooooooooooooooo oh Runaway Jim
He was twelve years old when his trip began,
(Runaway, runaway, runaway)
Hauling down the highway in my old sedan.
(Runaway, runaway, runaway.)
Whoa-ooooooooooooooo oh Runaway Jim
Whoa-ooooooooooooooo oh Runaway Jim
Now I wish someone'd tell me where old Jim went,
(Runaway, runaway, runaway)
'Cause he took all the money that I saved for rent.
(Runaway, runaway, runaway)
Whoa-ooooooooooooooo oh Runaway Jim
Whoa-ooooooooooooooo oh Runaway Jim
By the time he came home he was seventeen.
(Runaway, runaway, runaway)
That's a hundred nineteen to you and me.
(Runaway, runaway, runaway)
Whoa-ooooooooooooooo oh Runaway Jim
Whoa-ooooooooooooooo oh Runaway Jim
Now I'm gonna go up to the mountain.
(Runaway, runaway, runaway)
Singing for Jim who's swimming in the fountain.
(Runaway, runaway, runaway)
Whoa-ooooooooooooooo oh Runaway Jim
Whoa-ooooooooooooooo oh Runaway Jim
"By the time he came home..."
before the 1st break, and comes out of it with:
He ran away again on the night he died
(Runaway, runaway, runaway)
'Cause I knew I would miss him from the other side *
(Runaway, runaway, runaway)*
or
"Cause I knew I'd be with him on the other side
song performed by by Phish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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At the Harbour
The ships are in the harbour,
Some ship are small, some are larger,
The wavy waters blue and green,
Although blue and green should not be seen.
Saucy Jane was a little red boat,
Who bobbed merrily upon Squire John’s moat?
Her sail was white, her stern was mauve.
Han sail was white, her mast was new,
As she swam through the sea,
Of tranquil blue, with trickling bits of green.
poem by Claire Galpin
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Sullen Girl
Days like this, I dont know what to do with myself.
All day - and all night.
I wander the halls along the walls and under my breath.
I say to myself.
I need fuel - to take flight -
And theres too much going on.
But its calm under the waves, in the blue of my oblivion.
Under the waves in the blue of my oblivion.
Is that why they call me a sullen girl - sullen girl.
The dont know I used to sail the deep and tranquil sea.
But he washed me shore and he took my pearl -
And left an empty shell of me.
And theres too much going on.
But its calm under the waves, in the blue of my oblivion.
Under the waves in the blue of my oblivion.
Under the waves in the blue of my oblivion.
Its calm under the waves in the blue of my oblivion.
song performed by by Fiona Apple
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Jetlag
Jet fuel falls upon the clouds overhead,
Making oily smears across the night sky.
The sun ripples in a faint rooibos red,
And it sinks in the exhaust wafting by.
I hear an aloft, sibilant brisance.
I hear engines burst, rumbling where I stand,
And rattling me from my cognizance—
And into a less tellurian land.
I look down at the pavement beneath me,
Turning away from the kerosene trails
That contaminate these heavens I see—
Where stars seem to capitulate and fail.
I don't want to see what's lagging behind
In the process of becoming refined.
poem by Tim Stensloff
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I'm going to dance!
I'm going to dance
I'm going to dance!
I will see the stars
holding hands with the moon
kisses send from the shutting stars
will twirl on my soul
with no control
I'm going to dance
I'm going to dance!
I will dissolve
disoriented fear
and send it
to the clouds
the cotton puffs
so white and pure
will turn grey
for a moment to come
and thunders sound
when fear is there
will clear the air
after its all done
all will be one
I'm going to dance
I'm going to dance!
On the canvas
and imprint
my heart
on the blank
white cloth
not red
but silver and gold
poem by Kasia Fedyk
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In Possum Land
In Possum Land the nights are fair,
The streams are fresh and clear;
No dust is in the moonlit air;
No traffic jars the ear.
With Possums gambolling overhead,
'Neath western stars so grand,
Ah! would that we could make our bed
Tonight in Possum Land.
poem by Henry Lawson
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The Little Fete
I take a bottle of wine and I go drink it among the flowers.
We are allways three ... counting my shadow and my friend the shimmering moon
Happily the moon knows nothing of drinking, and my shadow is never thirsty
When I sing, the moon listens to me in silence. when I dance, my shadow dances too.
After all festivities the guests must depart. this sadness I do not know.
When I go home, the moon goes with me and my shadow follows me
song performed by by Vangelis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Luna
Deep slumber hung o'er sea and hill and plain;
With pale pink cheek fresh from her watery caves
Slow rose the moon out of the midnight waves,
Like Venus out of ocean born again.
Olympian blazed she on the dark blue main;
'So shall, ye gods,' — hark how my weak hope raves! —
'My happy star ascend the sea that laves
Its shores with grief, and silence all my pain!'
With that there sighed a wandering midnight breeze
High up among the topmost tufted trees,
And o'er the moon's face blew a veil of cloud;
And in the breeze my genius spake, and said,
'While thy heart stirred, thy glimmering hope has fled,
And like the moon lies muffled in a shroud.'
poem by Erik Johan Stagnelius
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Burning Across The Sky
Like a stingray it stung me tonight
the new moon.
A live flame lobbing the sparks.
The seduction had bypassed
the sleezy love
of white egrets.
When are you going
to make a history
by failing to fall?
Can I touch your blue veins
my moon?
They had been aching to step out.
When beast and passion
meet in the blue-faced sky
you start a belly dance.
poem by Satish Verma
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The Fog
The fog slunk down from Labrador, stealthy, sure, and slow,
Southwardly shifting, far inshore, so never a man might know
How the sea it trod with feet soft-shod, watching the distance dim.
Where the fishing-fleet to the eastward beat, white dots on the ocean’s rim.
Feeling the sands with its furtive hands, fingering cape and cove.
Where the sweet salt smells of the nearer swells up the sloping hillside rove;
Where the whimpering sea-gulls swoop and soar, and the great king-herons go,
The fog slunk down from Labrador, stealthy, sure, and slow!
Then a stillness fell on crag and cliff, on beach and breaker fell,
As the sea-breeze brought on its final whiff the note of a distant bell,
One faint, far sound, and the fog unwound its mantle across the lea.
Joined hand in hand with a wind from land, and the twain went out to sea.
And the wind that rose spoke soft, of those who watch on the cliffs at dawn,
And the fog’s white lips, of sinking ships where the tortured tempests spawn,
As, each to each, they told once more such things as fishers know,
When the fog slinks down from Labrador, stealthy, sure, and slow !
Oh, the wan, white hours go limping by, when that pall comes in between
The great, blue bell of the cloudless sky and the ocean’s romping green!
Nor sane young day, nor swirl of spray, as the cat’s-paws lunge and lift;—
On sad, slow waves, like the mounds of graves, the fishermen’s dories drift.
For the fishing-craft that leapt and laughed are swallowed in ghostly gray:
Only God’s eyes may see where lies the lap of the sheltered bay,
So their dories grope, for lost their lore, witlessly to and fro,
When the fog slinks down from Labrador, stealthy, sure, and slow !
Oh, men of the fleet, ’t is ye who learn, of the white fog’s biting breath,
That life may hang on the way ye turn, or the way ye turn be death!
Though they on the lea look out to sea for the woe or the weal of you,
The ominous East, like a hungry beast, is waiting your tidings, too.
A night and a day, mayhap, ye stray; a day and a night, perchance,
The dory is led toward Marblehead, or pointed away for France;
The shore may save, or the sea may score, in the unknown final throw,
When the fog slinks down from Labrador, stealthy, sure, and slow!
Ah, God of the Sea, what joy there lies in that first faint hint of sun!—
When the pallid curtains sulking rise, and the reaches wider run,
When a wind from the west on the sullen breast of the waters shoulders near,
And the blessed blue of the sky looks through, as the fog-wreaths curl and clear.
Ah, God, what joy when the gallant buoy, swung high on a sudden swell,
Puts fear to flight like a dream of night with its calm, courageous bell,
And the dory trips the sea’s wide floor with the verve ’t was wont to know,
And the fog slinks back to Labrador, stealthy, sure, and slow!
poem by Guy Wetmore Carryl from The Garden of Years and Other Poems (1901)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Grim Seasons
The sea shore is the gods lap
Where the timeless meet,
The grey ditch by the hedgerow
Is my heart’s slow beat,
The dark sky and the crow’s cry
And the gulls, slow wheeling,
Are sleep’s shroud in a gold cloud
On my eyes, drawn stealing.’
She turned, splintering crystal
In the dawn’s brisk chill,
The sharp scatter of silence
By the rook’s slow trill;
‘I left you for the grey day,
For the cliff’s grim seasons,
For the crisp breath, or a life’s quest
Of my own small reasons.’
‘The long shade of the sundial
For a day’s lost thought,
The moon, beamed in a cold room
Where a shadow’s caught.
I took flight for the still night
And the earth’s slow turning,
For the green hills and the clear rills
And the dream you’re torn in.’
21 February 1978
poem by David Lewis Paget
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Dance With Me
as i am dust
and for us to have a dance
you must be the night wind
the sky our dance floor
the stars our background
the moon's silence
our only music
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Final Painting
The white cloud passed over the land
there is sea always round the land
the sky is blue always above the cloud
the cloud in the blue continues to move
- nothing is limited by the canvas or frame -
the white cloud can be pictured like any
other clouds or like a fist of wool
or a white fur rose
The white cloud passes a shadow across
the landscape and so there is a passing greyness
The grey and the white both envelop
the watcher until he too is drawn into the picture
It is all a journey from a room through a door
down stairs and out into the street
The cloud could possess the house
The watchers have a mutual confidence
with the approaching string of white clouds
It is beyond spoken words what they are
silently mouthing to the sky
There was no mystery in this - only the firm
outline of people in overcoats on a hillside
and the line of clouds above them
The sky is blue The cloud white with touches
of grey - the rest - the landscape below -
can be left to the imagination
The whole painting quietly dissolved itself
into its surrounding clouds
poem by Lee Harwood
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Blue Gold Sky
Blue gold sky
Your fire is burning
Horizon questions why
Your evening is yearning
For a day that is soon gone
Into oblivion abyss
To carry the night on
In dreamy nocturnal kiss
All the blue gold is bound
Into your drifting clouds
Sunset of silver found
Among the streets and crowds
Love song of dusky distant
Where weaving dreams go
In to the nonexistent
Of ocean’s nightly glow
Blue gold sky
Yesterday is in your sight
When you come in sweet lullaby
In the falling off the eve light
Chariot of fire gold
Blue silver moon beyond
Nothing your dreams can hold
You are to stars whishes bond
poem by Peter S. Quinn
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Highest Trails Above
Sinking into the stars
Diving in for a swim
Soaring like a super hero
Past the end of Disneyland
Through dragon mist
Above alpine peaks
To the cloudy lace
To the highest trails above
I feel so safe
I feel content
Send you all my love
Southern winds
song performed by by Ramones from Subterranean Jungle
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sky-Minded
Blue sky,
blue sky.
Looking at you, wishing the day by.
Blue sky,
purple sky.
Storm coming in, here it is, there's the eye.
Blue sky,
grey sky.
The earth is wailing, the thunder yells, and the clouds cry.
Blue sky,
grey sky,
black sky.
Tore away at the moon, swallowed stars, listened to the sun die.
Black sky
Green sky
Orange sky
Red sky
Pink and yellow and mean sky.
Come on and roll in; it's only in my mind.
poem by Delilah Miller
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Open Hearts Are The Soul of The World
Regret not for now the world’s forgetting
In living awe for the sun in setting
Embrace the all, the one, your god.
Seek him in the eyes of the blind.
Find him in the strength of the weak.
Devouring eternity in an instance
Regurgitating – rejuvenating
Breaking the boundaries of tunnel realities
Open hearts are the soul of the world.
I have been as I have seen
The breathing blue beyond the green
The soaring serpent, shining white
The wingless dragon, black as night.
Can you sense within the seasons shifting
The gift of life, all rivers drifting?
The days they wash away the hours
This life of mine, this life of ours
This life is as a mothers kiss
A comfort lost, a frozen bliss.
Impulse - Instinct.
Extinct in this world of plastic smiles.
Come dance with me a while
Come dance a roman mile.
I beg of you
Come dance with me.
Set illusion free.
I beg of you
Come dance with me
Dance divine reality.
poem by David Lacey
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