A Park & Dusk
A garden and afternoon
is
a partner forever
As soon as the old
Moment is full
~ we walk
arm in arm
Maybe I guided you
Or you lead me
There is a violet dusk
Arthritis and back pain
We looked at the children running
Whether it comes from anywhere around
May come from a distant past
Which could have been written with small letters
Without comma, with no point
Spelled in front of an old typewriter
There is a set of expectations extinct
But many (too) lovely surprises
The word means full of cash is our promise
There's nothing we protested
Searching questions
as in a struggle
But the question
~ just the answer
We are free to choose
And we are eternal partner
Fragile that even though physical
But we do without winter crops
Lilies which always grows on the edge of the park
And at dusk greeted mahogany trees high
We were kissing
~ no one cares
Because we are an elderly couple
Which is in a park and dusk
poem by Imam Setiaji Ronoatmojo
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The Old Man
The old man sat on a park bench
just watching the people pass by.
He did it day after day
alone in everyone's eyes.
He would smile occasionally
but no one ever knew why.
Everyone who saw him
wondered why he sat so still
and just looked out
at everyone who passed him there.
The old man sat in repose
from dawn until dusk fell.
He sat there in the summer sun
and as winter's bleakness fell.
He looked for some face
he might remember from his past
so they could reminisce for a while.
Sadly, the years slipped away.
Everyone spoke about him,
but no one ventured to talk.
Then one day the old man
wasn't on the park bench
and he was nowhere to be seen.
Now a different question was asked.
Day after day, the bench was empty.
Where had the old man gone?
Had he simply passed away?
The questions remained unanswered
because no one ever stopped
to enquire of his name.
I would like to think
that in the dying hours
on the park bench one day
that he had found
what he was waiting for
and then happily he faded away.
12 July 2012
poem by David Harris
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Never is she shut #never is she shut
You are my Sun.
You are now set.
You brought me dawn
Everyday at ten.
You sent me dusk
Everyday at five.
Weekend two days,
You left me in dark.
You shone on me for brief,
But heavily, brightly
And deeply with warmth.
That referred warmth
Spread all the night.
I felt the shine of my Sun,
Off the dusk, at full night.
My night is brightly lit.
Now my sun is set.
Where is my dawn?
Where is my dusk?
Where is the sunny day?
Where is my beauty?
Who will there be to lit
My night-full day?
And dreaded night?
You be a Moon, now on.
Waxing and waning,
Be always on horizon
So that there comes
Once a while a full-moon,
To imbue me with life.
My day-less night
Is lit with Moonlight.
You be my stars, farther.
You twinkle and twinkle
At me high from horizon!
With your news, beckon!
With your heart, command!
I am in the bath of starlight.
My night-full day is lit.
My sun, though, is set,
No dark is there at night.
She is there as Moon.
She is there as Stars.
Though she is set as Sun.
I’m now a nocturnal.
She can never be set
Out of my heart and soul.
11.06.99
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Uphold
These things say she
Who holds the gift of life
Who walks along a hard road
As time hold no means for at dusk
The word of truth takes hold
Who children shall over write one future
Children intertwine with the elements of
Past and future
Cannot control the fate they flee
One by one
Oldest to youngest
Destiny shall claim them
In the Corse of time
Past and present shall clash
Fear and lost hold new means
For these children question shall be asked
Children lost
But this prophecy, is not that of hope and love
It is that of pain
For pain is life without pain there is no mercy
Yes, these children
Yes, this prophecy is not that of hope and love
But that of the way of life
For each child that screams out in pain
Another screams out with laughter
Yes, it is cruel
For this is the way balance of time is uphold
poem by La Janine Garrett
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0005 'what Is There To Live For?
and you asked this question
half-privately, half publicly, (so there's some hope then?)
but we, knowing alas your high intelligence,
must pause, reflect, before we answer you...
we could just say, in our severest tones -
that question comes from a nowhere, no-time place
where ignorance is loved, and knowledge is denied..
I'd say, off the cuff, damn you, do just what you like...
you'll do that anyway..
but if you want some words from me..
(who knows the power of words, despite
all evidence to the contrary?) -
some words about what you already know...
I'd say, the answer's in the shortest word
inside your question - 'is':
that tiny window in our life
between the past - that which has shaped your 'is' -
and future - which your 'is' will make for you;
that tiny window, which the gift of life
(and what else do we know of this?)
offers you through all your lived-in life -
gift, to be free; of past and future; simply be,
live in a world of free unselfishness,
be anything and everything, be what you wish -
or better still, be what unsullied life
continually offers you out of the blue...
Or you could count your blessings -
think as Mark has written, just so beautifully, to you...
you'll do just what you do, when all things have been said
and all things written down in words - damn you -
though I for one believe you far from damned..
I knocked upon your door - you didn't answer me;
so now I'm running round the back,
calling through that tiny window
of your very present life; and just to say,
you know yourself; know all the questions, all the answers; but
I'm here for you...and by the way, that ' I ' means we...
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Dusk last light
As noon last light
end slowly,
the twilight sleep
tiredly,
with promise of rise
up tomorrow,
to borrow many things
coldly.
is this you dusk?
and the roads become
unseen
slowly, moon appears boldly
to show correct way,
why are you so pretty dusk?
to attract me or to
distract me
yes! dusk its you with
pretty orange face
gods wonderful grace.....
poem by Deep Doloi
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Wife is driven to wall.[India]
A woman as a wife is pathetic.
She starts her career as a sleeping partner,
Then as a yielding partner, a competing partner,
A demanding partner and a losing partner.
No time was she a choosing partner.
She winds up as a deceived partner
And a sexually deceased partner.
In days to some, she will turn
to decry wifehood and defy manhood.
27.05.2001, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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As I Cross the City Limits...
As i cross the city limits
it takes a while
before thoughts recede
from my cluttered mind
and i begin to feel at ease...
couple of hours in the countryside
I am amazed to find
that the march of time
has not touched
the rhythm and rhyme
women, with firewood
on their head,
walk in a way that would
pose a threat
to models on
the ramp...
While a farmer
entrusts his crops
to scarecrows,
dressed as folks
from tip to toe
all with a hat and bow...
a women sits
with fresh honey,
looking bright and sunny.
A sheperd herds his lambs
At dusk after
they have to
their fill grazed...
we are driving past
at eighty miles an hour,
I urge, to slow down
As I want to take in
the smells and the sounds
We park and sit
For a while,
Buy a bottle of honey,
And drink a glass of lassi
Come on hurry,
We are running late
hey, let's just enjoy
the journey....
feeling wistful
i knew it was
just wishful,
addicted
as we are
to noise
and pollution...
poem by Mamta Agarwal
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As if you are Helen of Troy
As if you are Helen of Troy
You are such a nasty playboy!
You wear a beautiful mask
From dusk to dawn dawn to dusk!
You hurt me with Cupid’s arrow
My life is now full of sorrow!
As if you are deaf and blind
You can’t hear and read my mind!
poem by Asif Andalib
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Sad
dusk to dusk
this sadness
carries a shade
the heart finds
hard to bear
the melancholy
scarlet of dusk
an artist keenly
touches up to portray
the remaining
breaths of the day
the soft breeze
carries your soft sigh
and carress
to bid me farewell
the quiet dusk is
choked with
my longings
for you while divinity
witholds its
consolations
and looks at me
through blood shot eyes
a breathless
conflagration of
copper red,
orange and gold
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Candy
I saw her there at the back of the bus
Slipping in and out of consciousness
Some guy was blowing smoke into her mouth
Laughing with a madmans look on his face
And she was smiling
She was on cloud eight
Missing her stops
Playing with fate
With no one to hold her
And no one to see
She falls to the floor and whispers to me
In the dark, in the dusk, in the dawning...
Chorus:
Im candy
How sweet is my name
Im everybodys daughter
But no one seems to know her
Im candy
And youre all to blame
Your american daughter
One more for the slaughter
In the walls of her mind
Theres a girl another time
And shes dancing in the park
And in her mothers arms
With her mothers heart
And theyre laughing in the rain
And here she is a laughing again
Its not funny anymore
To hear her whisper from behind the door
In the dark, in the dusk, in the dawning
(chorus)
Can you understand candy?
Candy cant understand...
In the day, in the dark
In the dusk, til the dawn...
Candy...
(chorus)
She dont understand...
song performed by by Wilsons
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Not Turning Back
The velvet sky of dusk
borken hearts made of rust
shattered trust,
lies, lurking in the shadows
Roaming the lonley streets of chicago
full of sorrow
head held high with the lie
of being strong
But i'll see it be done,
i had won,
and i'll look through
the black and blue on my arm
because i know i wasnt wrong
I'll work through the darkest night
with my pride, and want to cry
I'll look at the past and still feel the
pain. but, i wont turn around or walk back
but trust me, i'm not the same
Becuase i know
I wasnt wrong
poem by Bekki Butler
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Longing never ceases
One looks for dawn while at dusk
and for dusk when at dawn.
One longs for winter in summer
and for summer when in winter.
One begs for hunger in affluence
and the other for food in penury..
The one at peak is for privacy
and the other, down, for publicity.
Who is happy from womb to tomb?
28.12.2000, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Water Lilies
If you have forgotten water lilies floating
On a dark lake among mountains in the afternoon shade,
If you have forgotten their wet, sleepy fragrance,
Then you can return and not be afraid.
But if you remember, then turn away forever
To the plains and the prairies where pools are far apart,
There you will not come at dusk on closing water lilies,
And the shadow of mountains will not fall on your heart.
poem by Sara Teasdale
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The Joy Of Their Laughter
The children are playing football in the park off of the street
The joy in their laughter it does sound so sweet
'Tis true youth is such a marvellous thing
Like the flowers of the fields that bloom lovely in Spring.
The joy of their laughter bring back memories to me
Of happy boyhood days of any cares free
In the Town park on Summer evenings we kicked the football
Such wonderful memories are good to recall
The years went so quickly and time did not wait
And I've grown grayer and slower and I'm putting on weight
The future belongs to the youth of today
Though they too will grow to learn that time quickly ticks away.
Some of those I went to school with now with the dead lay
And some are grand parents and their grand children play
The games they themselves played they run up and down
In pursuit of the football in the park by the Town.
As I walk to the bottle shop for to buy beer
The laughter of the children playing football I hear
Their best days approaching and mine in the past
But time keeps on ticking and nothing does last.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Research on Cinderalla - after Shel Silverstein In search of Cinderalla
From dawn til dusk,
from land to land,
without too much ado,
I'd seek the perfect ankle,
From dawn til dusk
I'd stretch my hand
to virgin, husk, - not you! -
perceptions change, oh dear, they do!
perfection minds must rankle
In Search of Cinderella
From dusk to dawn,
From town to town,
Without a single clue,
I seek the tender, slender foot
To fit this crystal shoe.
From dusk to dawn,
I try it on
Each damsel that I meet.
And I still love her so, but oh,
I've started hating feet.
- Shel Silverstein
poem by Jonathan Robin
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The Visitor
Down the hill, in the field of sweet alfalfa, they're
freezing each other, the children
playing tag and I'm up at the house, I'm
in the picture window, thin
and distant like the glimpse
of a surfacing fish. What dark waters
the house is, behind me, settling
into evening. Dusk
and there are, of course, fireflies. Tell me,
what was your name? When you visited once,
by the backroad where the stones glowed pale
in the moonlight, I was too young, I still thought
I belonged to the world. But now
quartered in this house, watching the neighbors' children
turn to dusk, I feel
I'm ready. Come back
and bring your finest wine, the oldest bottle.
Bring that strange dusty book you were reading.
poem by Kate Northrop
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Skrillex
In the wild park the family of Skrillex dinosaurs lives
And they are about 1o ft and they run wild in this park during the day
Also in this par are trees full of apples, pears, and plums
The park keepers give them meat because they need protein intheir daily diet
In the winter the Skrillex mother dinosaur gives birth to babies Dinosaurs
And the park keepers keep an eye for the dinosaurs that are giving Birth
During the winter but the male Skrillex dinosaur tries to protect their babies by not allowing anybody to come near their babies because They feel that people might hurt their babies also
poem by Aldo Kraas
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I Believe
i believe that in the novel
written about us
it shall not end on the last
sentence with a period
i ask the Great Writer
to at least end it with a comma
the silence of the comma
the suspense of the comma
and the exclamation point
of the Hallelujah!
I do not prefer the eternal rest
i pray for that Bliss.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Sunrise, Sunset
O Sun, When you rise,
It’s morning dawn.
When you set,
It’s evening dusk.
O Sun, Seeing your beauty lighting
Shining on landscape from dawn
Shining on seascape from dusk
It comes from dawn to dusk.
O Sun, rise from East
O Sun, set to West
From East to West,
Celestial light comes and go,
Seasons come and go.
Here come four seasons
North to South, East to West
From Spring comes Autumn,
From Summer comes Winter.
O Sun, From rising East
To setting West
O Moon, Come rising East
To setting West
Cycle never end,
It’s endless cycle,
Seeing sunset every dusk,
Seeing sunrise every dawn.
Making us pondering..
Make us wondering
Where, When will be next..
Sunrise, sunset..
poem by Lawrence Hiung
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In the Park
In the park
an old man and an old woman
sit away from each other
In the park
the old man and the old woman
look at each other
In the park
that old man and that old woman
sit together
In the park
they sing together
In the park
they hold hands
and walk back home together.........!
poem by Dr Madhavi Grace
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