A Flower To Auroville Mother 27
Kozhi Kondai(Cockscomb crested, Cockscomb Plumed,
Silver Cockscomb)
(Celosia argentea var. cristata, Celosia argentea var. plumosa
Celosia argentea var. spicata)
Sisters here aren't similar in semblance
Aren't in shades, shapes albeit beautiful
Crested, plumed, silvery but in loamy sameness
Their parade is garden in garlanded circle
Shaking their strong veined leafy hands
Proud is one with her clusters of crested style
Next with a plumed do of feathery looseness
Third on upright base of a silver-smile
Celosia sisters on march feting healthful colours
Dulcet breeze, ever the voice over of their carnival
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Related quotes
Serenata (José Asunción Silva)
La calle está desierta; la noche fría;
velada por las nubes pasa la luna;
arriba está cerrada la celosía
y las notas vibrantes, una por una,
suenan cuando los dedos fuertes y ágiles,
mientras la voz que canta, ternuras narra,
hacen que vibren las cuerdas frágiles
de la guitarra.
La calle está desierta; la noche fría;
una nube borrosa tapó la luna;
arriba está cerrada la celosía
y se apagan las notas, una por una.
Tal vez la serenata con su ruido
busca un alma de niña que ama y espera,
como buscan alares donde hacer nido
las golondrinas pardas en primavera.
La calle está desierta; la noche fría;
en un espacio claro brilló la luna;
arriba ya está abierta la celosía
y se apagan las notas una por una.
El cantor con los dedos fuertes y ágiles,
de la vieja ventana se asió a la barra
y dan como un gemido las cuerdas frágiles
de la guitarra.
poem by Jose Asuncion Silva
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Aubade
JANE, Jane,
Tall as a crane,
The morning light creaks down again;
Comb your cockscomb-ragged hair,
Jane, Jane, come down the stair.
Each dull blunt wooden stalactite
Of rain creaks, hardened by the light,
Sounding like an overtone
From some lonely world unknown.
But the creaking empty light
Will never harden into sight,
Will never penetrate your brain
With overtones like the blunt rain.
The light would show (if it could harden)
Eternities of kitchen garden,
Cockscomb flowers that none will pluck,
And wooden flowers that 'gin to cluck.
In the kitchen you must light
Flames as staring, red and white,
As carrots or as turnips shining
Where the cold dawn light lies whining.
Cockscomb hair on the cold wind
Hangs limp, turns the milk's weak mind . . .
Jane, Jane,
Tall as a crane,
The morning light creaks down again!
poem by Dame Edith Louisa Sitwell
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at the full moon's
rising, the silver-plumed
reeds tremble
haiku by Masaoki Shiki
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At The Full Moon's
at the full moon's
rising, the silver-plumed
reeds tremble
poem by Masaoka Shiki
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Olympics 2012
Flu Theory of Failure
In the Olympics year of twenty twelve
Flu took gold in Australia.
With gold on the chest of the flu,
Silver was the best we could do-
Thus Silver's Gold, not A Failure.
Boo Hoo Hoo
Peculiar to
Australia,
The sulphur-crested cockatoo.
Other white Australians,
The lot of them are aliens,
Silver is their hue,
Will be Sally's too.
With gold on the chest of the flu,
Silver's the best she can do-
Her silver is gold, not a failure.
Castaway
I learnt in the Laser Class race
What function at the coal face
You could possibly qualify for
By sailing an ironing board.
Say Tom Hanks had been able to do it:
he'd have been off the isle in a minute,
His wife wouldn't have gotten so bored,
And we'd've been spared an hour or four.
poem by Douglas Scotney
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Battling The Builders
I have to admit that the Great Crested Newt
Is not that good looking and isn't too cute.
But when plans were unveiled for hundreds of homes
To be built on land where the said newts roamed,
Many local residents protested ‘This isn't right! '
And, against the builders, they began a long fight.
The newts lived in a meadow, next to a big pond:
To relocate them all, would have been so wrong.
Pound signs were what the builders were seeing,
But the Planning Committee considered the newts' well-being;
Of destroying the newts' habitat, they weren't big fans,
And so they rejected the building firm's plans.
The Great Crested Newts may be fairly small,
But they battled the builders, who towered so tall.
The newts and local residents won the day,
And they sent the team of builders on their way.
Now the threat of relocation is over and gone,
With their lives, the Great Crested Newts can carry on.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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This Pleasure Fest Has Crested
The pleasure fest has crested.
Investments concurred,
Has placed us on the verge...
With more nerves on the edge.
Restless and undeserving,
Are those who pledged
Allegiance to chaos and confusion,
Fed.
This pleasure fest has crested quick.
Many have grown tired and sick,
Of promises diminishing.
With dreams discarded into bits...
Leaving behind minds in torned tidbits!
And patience sought begins to cease.
Delusions once embraced,
Are tossed upon the streets.
Where is this democracy working at home?
This pleasure fest has crested quick.
And many unbelieving it...
Are left in disturbing quests.
As they seek to get answers from those exposed,
Showing an obvious melting down of minds
Mentally distressed as they become more opposed!
And unfamiliar are those,
Receiving these reactions...
At their frontdoors freed of welcome mats.
Facing displeasures none condone,
Or found funny to be laughed at!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Black Silver
Silver is the mirror,
Where colours cannot run
From one into another
For silver it has none
Silver is a blackness
Which defies pure light to come
And when it does reflects it
Its image still as one
So that when you look upon it
Your face it will become
Not in silver, but the colours,
With which your face does run
Then with your world behind you
By light reflected one
Not in blackness, but in colours
You are colours of the sun
All mirrors do remind us
That colour is the light
And that they do not see us
In the darkness of the night
For colours are but energy
From the spectrum as it falls
On everything around us
Except, from silver balls
The colours of the rainbow
The colours in the sky
The colours of our galaxy
Are in a baby’s eye
Colours all around us
Enable us to see
That the world in which we live, is part of us,
Lifes chemistry
poem by Egal Bohen
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For my sisters
The women I call sisters
Are always there
The women I call sisters
Will always care
The women I call sisters
Can make me smile when times are blue
The women I call sisters
Are always very true.
The women I call sisters
By choice, are my best of friends
The women I call sisters
Will be there with me till the world ends
The women I call sisters
Are blessings from God above
The women I call sisters
Are sisters that I'll always love.
poem by Trinette Naidoo
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Garden Sunshine
GARDEN SUNSHINE
Garden which wild wilderness attested
Awash with colours now greets eye-in-dream.
Rich profusion prospers unprotested,
Dragonflies hover, honeybees here teem,
Enchants with wonder, pleasure uncontested,
Nature's splendour welcoming sun's beam.
SUNdry blooms here groomed, there random seem,
SHINE, rain, remain inspiring and unbested.
Grass lawn graceful, verdant, uncongested,
Assuages anguish. Nearby silver stream
Rich irrigation adds, as swan, glebe crested
Drift on lazy current. Joy supreme.
Evergreen and annuals unmolested
No high walls know, turn mind from urban theme.
SUNset scarlets, strawberry dawn scheme
SHIft NEts of light, draw cheerful robin nested.
acrostic GARDEN SUNSHINE 20 January 2009
robi03_1843_robi03_0000 AXX_NXX
Garden Sunshine poem © Jonathan Robin
poem by Jonathan Robin
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No Swan So Fine
"No water so still as the
dead fountains of Versailles." No swan,
with swart blind look askance
and gondoliering legs, so fine
as the chinz china one with fawn-
brown eyes and toothed gold
collar on to show whose bird it was.
Lodged in the Louis Fifteenth
candelabrum-tree of cockscomb-
tinted buttons, dahlias,
sea-urchins, and everlastings,
it perches on the branching foam
of polished sculptured
flowers--at ease and tall. The king is dead.
poem by Marianne Moore
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Red-crested crane
Hello brother Red-crested. Ah! Fairy crane
Why you are so good luck freed no more pain?
In the passed few years you’re mistakenly killed.
You’re mistakenly poisoned together with the other birds.
How different we are without red crown?
We’re still searching food wadding around
There is good news here for you in brain.
You’re selected as the supreme represent birds.
All you have born with red crow on heads.
You will live under safety protected plane.
You have been quietly living hard a long time.
A better living will start from hereafter onward.
Your lonely hard living is now noticed.
Our country people begin to love you.
We are still living poorly in the lakes.
Please don’t forget us while you’re in palace.
Why you are so good lucky being selected?
Were you born with a silver spoon?
We like mandarin duck, phony and eagle.
Why they are same as poor as we are?
There is no other better being selectable.
Hello Red-Crested Crane, I love you.
From now on you’re really the fairy birds.
You’ll become more freely enjoy flying.
I don’t know who will dare to hurt you again!
Oh, Fairy bird my dear fairy crane!
Do you know how I love you in the pass?
I always treat you as the fairy birds.
It was no mistake that I've treated you nice.
poem by Albert Wong
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Silver
Slowly, silently, now the moon
Walks the night in her silver shoon;
This way, and that, she peers, and sees
Silver fruit upon silver trees;
One by one the casements catch
Her beams beneath the silvery thatch;
Couched in his kennel, like a log,
With paws of silver sleeps the dog;
From their shadowy cote the white breasts peep
Of doves in silver feathered sleep
A harvest mouse goes scampering by,
With silver claws, and silver eye;
And moveless fish in the water gleam,
By silver reeds in a silver stream.
poem by Walter de la Mare
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The Descent Of The Muses
Nine sisters, beautiful in form and face,
Came from their convent on the shining heights
Of Pierus, the mountain of delights,
To dwell among the people at its base.
Then seemed the world to change. All time and space,
Splendor of cloudless days and starry nights,
And men and manners, and all sounds and sights,
Had a new meaning, a diviner grace.
Proud were these sisters, but were not too proud
To teach in schools of little country towns
Science and song, and all the arts that please;
So that while housewives span, and farmers ploughed,
Their comely daughters, clad in homespun gowns,
Learned the sweet songs of the Pierides.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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A smile again n again...
A smile again n again...
So many things happen in life,
n u smile,
People ignore u,
u smile,
they dont like u,
but u smile,
u feel bad,
still u smile,
They do it again n again,
but u keep up ur smile.
u aren't great as them,
u aren't wished like them,
u aren't talked like them,
still u love them,
n welcome them,
with a smile.
Time keep movin',
n u need them,
they laugh at you,
they put u aside,
n u have it all,
with a smile.
U feel alone,
u feel exhausted,
tears keep flowing,
but u hide them,
n instead, show your lips,
carrying a smile.
-Prankul
poem by Prankul Agarwal
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The debris
The triangle laughed at the circle,
“You aren’t as sharp”
The circle retorted, “You aren’t symmetrical either.”
“Your path is not straight, ” said the triangle.
“Yours have abrupt turns, ” said the circle.
A quarrel serves detecting demerits
And leaving debris of pleasantness.
16.06.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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To have more friends
Aren’t you bold but timid?
Aren’t you strong but soft?
Aren’t you shrewd but nave?
You will attract more friends.
04.07.2011
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Clouds disintegrate
Like powder puff dreams over
Sun crested mountains
haiku by Dorothy Holmes (23 July 2007)
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Silver And Gold
Silver, silver and gold
Silver and gold, silver and gold
Ev'ryone wishes for silver and gold
How do you measure its worth?
Just by the pleasure it gives here on earth.
Silver and gold, silver and gold
Mean so much more when I see
Silver and gold decorations
On ev'ry Christmas tree.
Silver, silver and gold
Silver, silver and gold
Silver and gold
Silver and gold
Silver and gold
Wise men brought gifts to the mange I'm told
Mary was humble to see
Shepherds and kings there on bended knees
It's silver and gold, silver and gold
Feeling the world with their lives
Silver and gold how they shimmer on ev'ry Christmas night
On ev'ry Christmas night
Silver, silver and gold
song performed by by Vanessa Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Silver & Gold
Words and Music by Johnny Marks.
Silver, silver and gold
Silver and gold, silver and gold
Ev'ryone wishes for silver and gold
How do you measure its worth?
Just by the pleasure it gives here on earth.
Silver and gold, silver and gold
Mean so much more when I see
Silver and gold decorations
On ev'ry Christmas tree.
Silver, silver and gold
Silver, silver and gold
Silver and gold
Silver and gold
Silver and gold
Wise men brought gifts to the mange I'm told
Mary was humble to see
Shepherds and kings there on bended knees
It's silver and gold, silver and gold
Feeling the world with their lives
Silver and gold how they shimmer on ev'ry Christmas night
On ev'ry Christmas night
Silver, silver and gold
song performed by by Vanessa Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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