Aurora's hands stretch
Paint iridescent all shapes
Birds' symphony claps
haiku by Indira Renganathan
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Related quotes
A Meet Love...
claps and
singing...
nude songs
on bus
travel...
young boys
youth girls...
play the
love..
catch hands
and dance...
lough and claps...
a lovers day meet...
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Paint my eyes in flowers
paint my hands in dragons
paint my back in windings
paint my arms in lightening
paint my neck in anks
my forehead intricate lines
paint my shoulder butterflies
paint my heart in henna
in henna of red in henna of black
body paint my heart
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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These Hands
Given by God -are these hands!
One can do many things -with these hands
With love one can help a strangers' hands-
Allay and comfort the elders' gnarled hands
Clean sweep and mop with these hands
Decorate and embellish with these hands
Cook and serve food to all with these hands
Clasp a loved one with these hands
Applaud one with pleasure with these hands
Dig the soil and form a garden with these hands
Hold a book to read with these hands
Write and post a card with these hands
Type a poem to cheer someone with these hands
Draw a picture and sew clothes with these hands
Paint a beautiful scene to amuse with these hands
Play a game of volley ball or cricket with these hands
Swim the waters and row a boat with these hands
Pick the harvests and fruits with these hands
Feed the animals and birds with these hands
Seek the warmth of dear ones with these hands
Feel the soft petals of a flower with these hands
Fold the palms to pray with these hands
Given by God - are these hands!
poem by Chandra Thiagarajan
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Paint Me Down
Paint me down
Paint me down
Paint me down
Im walking into studio
Consider strange appeal
Paint me in the home
Im brushing up on sketchbook
Designs for love unreal
Paint me in the home
Oil and skin youll need to buy it
Consider what I mean
She sinks beneath thr moving pictures
Prepare the brush for me
Im craving with this need
Paint me down
Paint me down
Paint me down
Im soaking up the surface
Conceaiving new idea
Paint me in the home
Shes oiling up her subject
But all still life is here
Paint me in the home
All the boys with framed dimension
A cover up on lust
Hell take his pain and paint it over
Prepare the brush for me
Im craving with this need
Paint me down
Paint me down
Paint me down
song performed by by Spandau Ballet
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The New Symphony Sid
Symphony sid is grooving
Man this whole house is moving
Symphony sid is grooving
Symphony sid
Symphony sid is swinging
That radio is ringing
Symphony sid is swinging
Symphony sid
Bing-bang bing-bang bing-bang ...
Bing-bing-bing-bang ...
Symphony sid is jumping
Man this whole house is romping
Symphony sid is jumping
Symphony sid
Tune in and listen
Check out what youre missin
Youre finally close to eighty
On the dot
Some say hes the greatest
One thing is assured
When youre the latest
Youre gonna be hoppin and boppin round the future
All your friends will be knockin on your door
When sidney plays his swingin music, catch it you should take up the
Season you feel the temperature risin
Yeah man the radio is hot, youd never want to stop
Spinning like a little red top, all over town
Now, sisters and brothers, fathers and mothers dig in
Watch this, put em down
Bing-bang bing-bang bing-bang ...
Bing-bing-bing-bang ...
Symphony sid is jumping
Man this whole house is romping
Symphony sid is jumping
Symphony sid
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I am a child in the dark. I stretch my hands through the coverlet of night for thee, Mother.
aphorism by Rabindranath Tagore from Stray Birds (1916), translated by Rabindranath Tagore
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Stretch Out And Wait
On the high-rise estate
What's at the back of your mind ?
Oh, a three-day debate
On a high-rise estate
What's at the back of your mind ?
Two icy-cold hands conducting the way
It's the eskimo blood in my veins
Amid concrete and clay
And general decay
Nature must still find a way
So ignore all the codes of the day
Let your juvenile influences sway
This way and that way (this way)
This way and that way (this way)
God, how sex implores you
To let yourself lose yourself
Stretch out and wait
Stretch out and wait
Oh ... let your puny body, lie down, lie down
As we lie, you say
As we lie, you say
Stretch out and ...
Stretch out and wait
Stretch out and wait
Oh ... let your puny body lie down, lie down
As we lie, you say :
Will the world end in the night time ?
(i really don't know)
Or will the world end in the day time ?
(i really don't know)
And is there any point ever having children ?
Oh, i don't know
What i do know is we're here and it's now
So ... stretch out and wait
Stretch out and wait
There is no debate, no debate, no debate
How can you conciously contemplate
When there's no debate, no debate ?
Stretch out and wait
Stretch out and wait
Stretch out and wait
Wait
Wait
Wait
Wait
song performed by by Smiths
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Prisoner Of The Dark
There is always a call, from outside a call
Yet I stay rooted in a dark theater hall
There is an outside where the sky gets paint
The birds busily tweet for my ears to be lent
The sunrays stretch their hands for me to come along
The winds want me listen to a long forgotten song
I want to run out there, to see and smell it full
As the rain comes from heaven for the parched earth to be cool
Once I soak in them, feel them inside me
The moon coming out of clouds sets my spirit free
The call is loud and clear, it is all over me
In a dark theater hall, I only dream to be free!
poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay
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Watching For Shapes
Written by ricky & marty wilde
Influences now are things that are all around me
Changing shape as they move around in an open mind
Coloured in by the images I find
Im just watching for shapes that grow
Im just watching for shapes that grow
(watching for shapes that grow)
Like electric sparks they danced by an open mirror
Closing doors never looking round but its not goodbye
Theyll be there till Im taken out I know
Im just watching for shapes that grow
Im just watching for shapes that grow
(watching for shapes that grow)
In my mind theres a space thats full of painted pictures
Things I did that I went through, but cant recall
Now and then theres a flash of the unknown
Im just watching for shapes that grow
Im just watching for shapes that grow
(watching for shapes that grow)
(watching for shapes that grow)
(watching for shapes that grow)
song performed by by Kim Wilde
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Winter Symphony
Autumn colors have gone
Birds fled south with their song
Snowflakes cover the earth quietly
Night extends through the hours
Coolly lit by the stars
The pulse of life slows silently
Cuddle up in a cozy nook
With a warm drink and a book
Within a winter symphony
Somewhere children outside
Screamin down a daredevil slide
Rosy-cheeked bundles of cold-weather clothes
Hear the winter winds howl
Pierced by the hoot of an owl
Fingers of frost take a nip at my nose
Cuddle up in a cozy nook
With a warm drink and a book
Within a winter symphony
Winter symphony
Snowflake fantasy
Warms my heart like a tropic sea
There the sun always shines
There youll always be mine
All in a winter symphony
Winter symphony
Snowflake fantasy
Warms my heart like a tropic sea
There the sun always shines
There youll always be mine
All in a winter symphony
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sing Aurora Sing
See the symphony of light o’er the sea.
Softly the agony resends softly.
Free rising orb setting harmony free.
Brightly absorb with a song so brightly.
Aurora light from morning aurora.
Song of the night is now operas' song.
Flora delight; like blossoms of flora.
Long is the sight with emotions so long.
Rising crescendo with morning rising.
Serene innuendo leaves mind serene.
Surprising opera; light surprising.
Pristine genera of human pristine.
So open your heart let the light sing so.
Know symphony light, and your mind will know.
Author Notes:
Shadow Sonnet with internal rhyme.
Shadow Sonnet created by Amera M. Andersen may be written in any sonnet style. The Shadow takes place at the beginning and ending of each line as the words are identical or homophonic.
14 lines
9 or 10 syllables per line
Should have a volta or pivit
Iambic pentameter is not necessary
poem by Amera Andersen
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Stretch Out & Wait
On the high-rise estate
Whats at the back of your mind ?
Oh, a three-day debate
On a high-rise estate
Whats at the back of your mind ?
Two icy-cold hands conducting the way
Its the eskimo blood in my veins
Amid concrete and clay
And general decay
Nature must still find a way
So ignore all the codes of the day
Let your juvenile influences sway
This way and that way (this way)
This way and that way (this way)
God, how sex implores you
To let yourself lose yourself
Stretch out and wait
Stretch out and wait
Oh ... let your puny body, lie down, lie down
As we lie, you say
As we lie, you say
Stretch out and ...
Stretch out and wait
Stretch out and wait
Oh ... let your puny body lie down, lie down
As we lie, you say :
Will the world end in the night time ?
(I really dont know)
Or will the world end in the day time ?
(I really dont know)
And is there any point ever having children ?
Oh, I dont know
What I do know is were here and its now
So ... stretch out and wait
Stretch out and wait
There is no debate, no debate, no debate
How can you conciously contemplate
When theres no debate, no debate ?
Stretch out and wait
Stretch out and wait
Stretch out and wait
Wait
Wait
Wait
Wait
song performed by by Smiths
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dry Hands
on the table
trying to absorb
the moisture of
sandalwood
it is not the water
but the lacking care
of another set of
hands
inside it rains
someone claps his hands
so inconsiderate
outside is the sunshine
of her smile
impenetrability
illustrated
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Am I a master
I am the master, master of art
have painted true pictures,
of rising sun, mountain, sea
through jungles flowing rivers,
shining stars, birds, cloudy sky,
can paint anything and everything.
insects, lions, bear and deer.
just like the living things.
I am the master, master of art,
can make my own paint and brush
Alas! but cannot create raw material
of any of paint, brush or canvas.
Oh! can not paint these seven
which are made only in heaven:
smell, touch, look, hear and taste,
emotions, thought and breathe.
No, I am not the master, master of art
can paint uncountable things yet not.
Not possible to paint love and laugh
I have to go again and again to learn
to the supreme master, who painted
the universe, stars, moon and sun
(C) S. D. Tiwari
poem by S.D. Tiwari
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I paint with shapes.
quote by Alexander Calder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Free Restless Spirit
there are people ahead of us
and who enjoy their own fame who like to teach us
how to make frames
that there are desired shapes of words
with their own colors and tones
and like light we ought to mix them
to their own
precise delight
when i was new i had always been clumsy
because i always want to think like them
each hour i command my hands to take their
own shapes of fingers
there are always desired sizes and colors and tones
and for years
i have lived in so much restraint that i finally discern
that i am not free
because i must live the way i ought to be like by them
too suffocating
like i am covering my head with
a helmet
so as not to harm myself
from their preconceived accidents
my voice thinned out and my hands
became moles
then too tired to take their commands
i escaped
into the mountains
and i learned the language of the birds and the trees
the songs of the wind and wilderness
my arms become rivers and my feet mountains
my hair the forest and my eyes the sun and moon
my breath is the wind
this is what freedom does
this is the fruit restlessness
this is the poem that you are reading now.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Flamenco Dance (Mirrored Nonet)
A juerga with flamenco guitars,
With fires blooming like red flowers,
Corpses dancing in moonlight
The dance of wounded souls,
Vibrant red dresses
White shirts like birds,
Falling shawls,
Dancers,
Sky,
Claps,
Cubic
Movements of
Color, music's
Seeds, hands being wings
In shadows on the wall,
From soul detaching passion's
Lights, motion vibrating the string,
Resonance for a new dimension.
poem by Marieta Maglas
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A Lesson In Drawing
My son places his paint box in front of me
and asks me to draw a bird for him.
Into the color gray I dip the brush
and draw a square with locks and bars.
Astonishment fills his eyes:
'… But this is a prison, Father,
Don't you know, how to draw a bird?'
And I tell him: 'Son, forgive me.
I've forgotten the shapes of birds.'
My son puts the drawing book in front of me
and asks me to draw a wheatstalk.
I hold the pen
and draw a gun.
My son mocks my ignorance,
demanding,
'Don't you know, Father, the difference between a
wheatstalk and a gun?'
I tell him, 'Son,
once I used to know the shapes of wheatstalks
the shape of the loaf
the shape of the rose
But in this hardened time
the trees of the forest have joined
the militia men
and the rose wears dull fatigues
In this time of armed wheatstalks
armed birds
armed culture
and armed religion
you can't buy a loaf
without finding a gun inside
you can't pluck a rose in the field
without its raising its thorns in your face
you can't buy a book
that doesn't explode between your fingers.'
My son sits at the edge of my bed
and asks me to recite a poem,
A tear falls from my eyes onto the pillow.
My son licks it up, astonished, saying:
'But this is a tear, father, not a poem!'
And I tell him:
'When you grow up, my son,
and read the diwan of Arabic poetry
you'll discover that the word and the tear are twins
and the Arabic poem
is no more than a tear wept by writing fingers.'
My son lays down his pens, his crayon box in
front of me
and asks me to draw a homeland for him.
The brush trembles in my hands
and I sink, weeping.
poem by Nizar Qabbani
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Chandlers
Chandlers
Hang from the ceiling
Perfect little
Crystalline shapes
Reflect light from within and without
Illuminating everything
No shadows lingering about
No lies
No decite laying naked and bare
Rays of light
A dazzling display of iridescent light bulbs
Shining through the chandler
With not doubts or marks
To indicate impurity
poem by Autumn Winds
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The Symphony Of Music
music has away of projecting
your every-emotion that you
have to give, the art of music
lives inside every-one that wants
to follow it.
the sorrow that it has
gives a symphony of words,
to express the inner-emotions
that music has to expose to
us as we listen to it.
the symphony of music
impacts us as we listen
and compassionately take
it to heart, as we start
becoming involved with
the symphony of music that
is being produced to us.
some-how the art of
music takes us by the
hand and moves us in so
many different ways that we
can't even explain to any-one
that is around us.
we take the symphony of
music as it moves through
us, as we listen with an open
heart and an open mind, and find
the boundaries that combines our
very emotions, thoughts, and feelings,
with the symphony of music that reveals
to us a whole new world of music to
us and being the people of the world.
but what people don't
understand and realise is
that the symphony of music,
goes deeper than what they
had imagined it to go, and
some-how not to show this
bittersweet side of me and
what the symphony of music
does to me and my feelings.
and to have it some-how
over-flowing inside my
veins is some-thing that
i will never-ever talk about
with any-one who knows and
loves me.
poem by Erie Diane
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