September, the cruellest of months
The dragon flies stage
An apology of a dance
To the reverberating coarseness
The parched leaves throw
Into the vacuous space
The frail fatigued feathers
Droop under a blazing sun
They keep flying
A bare sky and an equally
Bare earth as the backdrop
Their arid throats go coarse
One half of the earth flooded
While other half wags its parched tongue
A distant thunder teases
Filling hope into a bone-dry heart
22sep2010
14.30hrs
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Related quotes
The Old Army Blanket
Coarse and ruff quite often thread bare
The soldier did not seem to care
Let the enemy try to take if he dare;
Coarse and ruff quite often thread bare
Driving rain or snow wearing his blanket
Coarse and ruff quite often thread bare.
Being a soldier he could expect no better fare,
Coarse and ruff, quite often thread bare
His fight done, read over with a prayer
Wrapped in the old grey Army blanket
Coarse and ruff quite often thread bare.
He did his duty few could compare,
Coarse and ruff, quite often thread bare
poem by Derrick Fernie
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As the wind caresses me through the w indow...
Delighted
The hoarse voiced crows
Caw caw as a veil of grey-black
Stealthily spreads on hills and the sea
Surprisingly the cawing sounds music
To the dry ears longing to hear
The tip tap of raindrops on the earth
The roar of thunder is music pr excellence
As the heart cocks its ears to absorb
Each and every nuance
The dragon flies dance in maniac rhythm
Their wings pitted against the erratic winds
Somewhere within my niche
Something stirs to life…
22sep2010
14.58hrs
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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I Feel Like The Sea-Gull
I feel like the sea-gull
That wanders the ocean-waves calm or tossed
With tempests in mid-Ocean or sea-shore:
I am the sea-gull
That with parched throat
Cries his piercing cry across the landscape
Where sea and sky are only and they meet
In my lone call:
I am the sea-gull that protests
And speaks injustice and its pains
And that is why
My throat is parched – yet I am free
Free in my flight across the air
Flipping around my wings; moving
Flying miles and kilometers moving
Flying near to land as much as can I
For I must bespeak – people must hear me.
My call I know will pierce
And the hearts
That lie now frozen by unjust hands
Will feel the warmth of summer in their innocence
Their throats no longer will be parched
Nor will they thirst
But by the springs of paradise will slake their thirst:
And they will have justice.
And the earth will flower again, no longer groan
Under its burdens
And I
And I, the lonely sea-gull of the ocean-winds
Will cry my eerie cry no more
My deed done my heart can break
And I
The lonely sea-gull will float
Float speechless on the Ocean’s bosom to the skies.
poem by Emmanuel George Cefai
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Desires Part -2
Yet another night
As I lay awake
Sleepless in desire…
Eyes aching for a
Glimpse of
"me"
In your eyes..
Lips parched
In hunger of
Your mouth.
Arms naked
In want
Of your arms.
Bosom swollen,
Painful against the confines.
This ache, painful..
Yet heady..
Starting at the navel
And spreads
Engulfing everything
Feelful or feeling less of
"me".
Dissolving into a fire
Burning its way
Into caverns
And deep recesses
Of my being.
As the skin burns..
In cold fire
In want of your being.
I still lay awake,
Half scalded,
Half doused,
Drowning in the floods
Of my own passion fluid.
Gasping, gaping
In wait of wanting you
Like the parched brown earth
Gapes in want of the seasons
First monsoon.
O love!
if only you ever know
How I desire you…
poem by Anjali Kakati
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Half The World
Words by neil peart, music by geddy lee and alex lifeson
Half the world hates
What half the world does every day
Half the world waits
While half gets on with it anyway
Half the world lives
Half the world makes
Half the world gives
While the other half takes
Half the world is
Half the world was
Half the world thinks
While the other half does
Half the world talks
With half a mind on what they say
Half the world walks
With half a mind to run away
Half the world lies
Half the world learns
Half the world flies
As half the world turns
Half the world cries
Half the world laughs
Half the world tries
To be the other half
Half of us divided like a torn-up photograph half of us are
Trying to reach the other half
Half the world cares
While half the world is wasting the day
Half the world shares
While half the world is stealing away
song performed by by Rush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Unquenched
(a re-post)
i stretch my
parched tongue
each time
it rains dropp
after dropp
the body catches
all the rain
and the perfume
drapes the body
behind its veil…
the crystalline drops
whisper sweet nothings
into the invisible heart
but leave the
tongue parched…
27mar08
14.50hrs
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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A Situation
there is a waterfall on my belly
there is a dam on my pelvic bone
i cannot stop this
i will let go a river
there will be a flood
needing you.
be the parched earth
let your cracks be mouths
i will be the rain, i will be the flood
do not destroy humanity
take all of me, this flood, this rain, this dam is broken
i let go a rampage of emotions
i explode
you be the space
you must take all that i am
all that i will be
tackle me, swallow me
drink me
o thirsty earth, my love,
my life, my outlet, my current.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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RainDrops Dancing
Rainbow smudged
On butterfly wings,
The fancy chariot
This mind loves to ride,
When windows are closed
Cloudy mist glazed on either side.
Outside, the raindrops dance
On golden leaves,
Glistening, trilling, tumbling
On dry brittle thorns,
Teasing the parched earth,
In that ache, a song is born.
The rains will come
Green the earth,
In that mirth
The kids will dance,
Holding raindrops
Catching the rainbow in their arms!
poem by Anand Vijaykumar
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0022 November
November, I’m almost ready now
to take you on:
every year
you throw all that you can at me –
above all, that sadness which lurks beyond
the all and any reason; steals into the blood;
taps at the heart with long-forgotten regrets,
drains the energy; lurks with all its
theatre tricks and stage props –
in the countryside, leaves falling like failed dreams,
their smell underfoot, of earth and rain and snow and mud;
in the town, the acrid smell of sodden fireworks; then come
poppies and guns, trenches, death,
and waste of life, futility and war;
draining the light from brief sad afternoons,
the grey depressing drizzle of eternity without hope..
warping thought, draining enthusiasm,
blunting the sharp edge of pleasure;
you’ll carry your campaign right through
December if you can…as the spirit wearies, daylight fades,
do all you can to ruin Christmas; already linking arms
with New Year bleakness to complete your ruthless task..
November, I’m almost ready now
to take you on: knowing you
for what you are: the yearly test
of inner resources and resilience,
the soul stripped bare; bare branches
stripped of leaves; king and fool
together on the heath in storm,
bare humanity… so
I’ll be prepared – turn the heat up,
stoke the heart’s fires;
drink myself sociable; consider charity;
think of others; play with generosity;
remember love; stand fast as faith;
be hope itself; not look outside
for all that’s inner to be found;
be all that’s Spring and strong
and damn the passing seasons; dance
with merriment and laughter; be
strong as roughbarked tree trunk
bending in a winter gale, standing
stronger from the test;
poem by Michael Shepherd
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I Dreamt I Was In Africa
I dreamt I was in Africa neath Serengeti sky
I heard the wild dogs barking, the spotted hyenas cry,
I heard the male lion roaring his anger pierced the night,
I dreamt I was in Africa neath African moonlight.
The elephants were trumpeting on Serengeti plain,
The sun dried grass all eaten the parched earth cried for rain,
The wildebeest and zebra had wandered far away
And Serengeti silent in the searing heat of day.
I dreamt I was in Africa the drought was at an end
The thunder and the lightning And rain came with the wind,
The ponds and rivers flooded, the once parched plains now green
And widebeest and zebra in thousands to be seen.
The moon shines in the heavens and the hunting jackals bark
In Tanzania in East Africa in Serengeti National Park
The grazing hippos grunting and the wild hyenas scream
And I was in East Africa if only in a dream.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Poets
Half god, half brute, within the self-same shell,
Changers with every hour from dawn till even,
Who dream with angels in the gate of heaven,
And skirt with curious eyes the brinks of hell,
Children of Pan, whom some, the few, love well,
But most draw back, and know not what to say,
Poor shining angels, whom the hoofs betray,
Whose pinions frighten with their goatish smell.
Half brutish, half divine, but all of earth,
Half-way 'twixt hell and heaven, near to man,
The whole world's tangle gathered in one span,
Full of this human torture and this mirth:
Life with its hope and error, toil and bliss,
Earth-born, earth-reared, ye know it as it is.
poem by Archibald Lampman
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Ribblesdale
Earth, sweet Earth, sweet landscape, with leavés throng
And louchéd low grass, heaven that dost appeal
To, with no tongue to plead, no heart to feel;
That canst but only be, but dost that long—
Thou canst but be, but that thou well dost; strong
Thy plea with him who dealt, nay does now deal,
Thy lovely dale down thus and thus bids reel
Thy river, and o’er gives all to rack or wrong.
And what is Earth’s eye, tongue, or heart else, where
Else, but in dear and dogged man?—Ah, the heir
To his own selfbent so bound, so tied to his turn,
To thriftless reave both our rich round world bare
And none reck of world after, this bids wear
Earth brows of such care, care and dear concern.
poem by Gerard Manley Hopkins
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We Have Danced Tango
We have danced tango in exploiting the earth
We stamp our feet as we move to explore
the whole dancing space on the stage
We only look into the gaiety in our own eyes
as we seek to declare ourselves the winner
in our mastery of the magical move of our body
We explore the mother earth, making believe
that the whole stage is ours to exploit without limit.
With the rhythm of our tango dance
we create atom bombs and other weapons
for the countless crowd
We choke the trees, plants and animals
with our inventions and chemicals
We stuff our water and air
with poison and carbon from our own hands.
We continue to dance our tango dance
claiming that the whole stage is ours.
And we dance and dance our tango dance
until music ceases to be replayed
for the mother earth announces
that our own clever dance and music
choke her to death and our tango on
the great stage cannot at all continue.
poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen
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Savage Earth Heart
Ooooh!
...let me see the savage
I want to see the savage coming
Crashing through your face
I want to be there
When the savage comes
I want to be there
When the savage comes
When your savage earth heart
Cuts through
I wanna be a witness
Or a victim to your spell
Crackling in lightening
Dressed in shadows
Red like a carousel
I want to be there
When the savage comes
I want to be there
When the savage comes
When your savage earth heart
...cuts through
Will you lay all of your
Deepest wildest secrets bare?
Will you let all of those
Rumbling old gods take rage?
I want to be there
When the savage comes
I want to be there
When the savage comes
When your savage earth heart
Cuts through!
Then I was taken smoothly
By the vulture of the soul
That hideous strength
That numbs the tongue
And he led me like a cinder
Through the fields of hell
To doubt my friends and to hate myself
But when my savage earth heart
...cuts through
When my savage earth heart
Cuts through
Then my savage earth heart
...cuts through
And the culture of the soul laid waste
song performed by by Waterboys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sunset Heighting Aire
Barley sixteen and half unseen,
Who in battle engaged and never gave up,
When a sunset heights the air,
Tree's swaying, standing bare,
Like in that there,
Place of feelings where-
A sunset heights the are
Half empty filling up the day,
Empty empty full of rays,
A sunset heights the air,
The menacing mighty wind where,
This there place of feelings was,
Half empty, half full.
poem by Rebecca Stansfield
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Half The World
Half the world lives,
Half the world makes,
Half the world gives
While the other half takes.
Half the world hates,
Half the world runs away,
Half the world's late,
Half the world praises the day.
Half the world is,
Half the world was,
Half the world thinks,
Half the world does.
Half the world lies,
Half the world burns,
Half the world cries
While the other half turns.
Half the world cares,
Half the world weeps,
Half the world shares,
Half the world keeps.
Half the world sings,
Half the world laughs,
Half the world brings,
Half the world tries to be the other half.
End.
Very little grows
Upon a parched arid land;
Where few raindrops fall.
haiku by Edwin Tanguma (22 August 2012)
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Come To The Moon
Come to the moon
By: jimmy buffett, michael utley, will jennings
1984
Full earth tonight
And mars is big and bright
All our friends are flying in
Its such a lovely sight
Gravity never could hold me
That is what you always told me
You know me
Chorus:
So come to the moon
I hope to see you soon
Half a million miles isnt far to go
You know I need you so
I hope you still need me
So come to the moon
The starships leaving soon
Until then Im wishing on every star
That you will be here soon
Come to the moon
Those crazy martian days
When we went separate ways
Through time and space wed find a place
To bring our lives in phase
Were lost amid the galaxies revolving
And were all just a part of whats evolving
Evolving
Chorus:
So come to the moon
I hope to see you soon
Half a million miles isnt far to go
You know I need you so
I hope you still need me
So come to the moon
The starships leaving soon
Until then Im wishing on every star
Wondering where you are
Come to the moon
Chorus:
So come to the moon
I hope to see you soon
Half a million miles isnt far to go
You know I need you so
I hope you still need me
So come to the moon
The starships leaving soon
Until then Im wishing on every star
That you will be here soon
Come to the moon
Come to the moon
Come to the moon
song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Thunder Cracks In The Gray Sky
The thunder cracks in the gray sky and the rain it is bucketing down
Above the high and dry and bare paddocks by the river that flows by the town
On those paddocks that need heaps of rain it has been awhile since they were green
This countryside is looking dry 'tis as dry as it ever has been
His feathers soaked wet from the rain the magpie flutes on the blackwood tree
From it's drenched leaves the rain drips and drips by the river that flows to the sea
To the river adown the bare hill the water in rivulets run
As soon as the rain will have stopped they will quickly dry out in the sun
The Summer has been warm and dry and the long range weather forecast is for a dry Fall
An hour of heavy thunder rain of little use though better than nothing at all
For months the farmers have been praying for rain their prayers in part answered today
But the sun shines across the brown hills and the rain clouds are clearing away
And the magpie shakes his feathers dry and no rain drops left to drip from the trees
And white butterflies flitting about in the sunshine and feshening breeze.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Pitter-Patter
The sound of pitter-patter
Around the scintillating corona of a blazing bonfire
In the bleakness of a sun-parched terrain
On cracked veneers where jagged scripts are engraved
In the tongue of the earth, screeching towards the heavens
As the beats of the palms, on svelte drum heads
Even the reverberating echoes of a warrior persona
Calls forth a deluge from the heavens
As the soil awaits its call for a metamorphosis from within
For the seeds of the earth to leaven, to spiral
Towards a larger than life mural of a cascading Azure curtain
To embrace falling tears from the breaching heavens
To carry forth in their arms, the bed of civilization
A bequest of the gods, the seepage of celestial tear ducts
To spawn a grove of shoots, to engender a gathering of life forms
To divide and multiply in gay abandon,
Listening to the melodies of a different pitter-patter
One calling forth the genesis of life, to the bleakest of land
As the pulsating drum beats transform to a thanksgiving prayer
An oratorio resonating towards the heavens
To sash and bouquet the attentive gods for a heavenly intervention
The advent of a pluri-genic offspring, to mother Africa
For the liberation of her maternal instincts, her supple buxom breasts
To nurture the pitter-patter of her fledgling innocence
poem by Dilantha Gunawardana
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