Cocoanut tree sweeps
Clouds off, back moon but smudgy
Stirred lily doubting
haiku by Indira Renganathan
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Our Contemporaries
When the Taihaitian princess
Heard that he had decided,
She rushed out into the sunlight and swarmed up a
cocoanut palm tree,
But he returned to this island
And wrote ninety Petrarchan sonnets.
poem by Ezra Pound
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Here Comes The Moon
Everybodys talking up a storm
Act like they dont notice it
But here it is and here it comes . . .
Here comes the moon, the moon, the moon, the moon, the moon.
Impulse always quickens when its full
As it turns my head around me
Yes it does and here it comes
Here comes the moon, the moon, the moon, the moon, the moon.
Gods gift I see thats moving up there into the night . . .
Though dark the mirror in the sky reflects us our light:
Looks like a little brother to the sun
Or mother to the stars at night
And here it is and here it comes
Here comes the moon, the moon, the moon, the moon, the moon.
Breath is always taken when its new
Enhance upon the clouds around it
Yes it is and here it comes
Here comes the moon, the moon, the moon.
song performed by by George Harrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Once
I SET a lily long ago;
I watched it whiten in the sun;
I loved it well, I had but one.
Then summer-time was done,
The wind came and the rain,
My lily bent, lay low.
Only the night-time sees my pain—
Alas, my lily long ago!
I had a rose-tree born in May;
I watched it burgeon and grow red,
I breathed the perfume that it shed.
Then summer-time had sped,
The frost came with its sleep
My rose-tree died away.
Only the silence hears me weep—
Alas, lost rose-tree! lost, lost May!
The garden's lily blows once more;
The buried rose will wake and climb;
There is no thought of rain and rime
After, next summer-time.
But the heart's blooms are weak;
Once dead for ever o'er.
Not night, not silence knows me seek
My joy that waned and blooms no more.
poem by Augusta Davies Webster
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Lily in the pond
Midnight crow crows scarily
Hugs the lily the moon
haiku by Indira Renganathan
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When The Wind Met The Moon
It was a dark night
Clouds filled the sky.
The moon could not shine through the thickness of the clouds.
No matter how hard she tried,
She could not glimmer through.
The wind felt sorry for the moon.
He saw how hard the moon was trying
So the wind blew to move the clouds from in front of her.
Then the moon shared its magnificent beauty with the world.
poem by Torence Lavender
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Sonnet: Our Life On Earth
The Moon is shining less brightly than 'fore,
And seems to fade behind thick clouds that sail;
Its dim outline too fades with time much more;
The ghost-like Moon appearing truly pale!
But not for long, the Moon is back whole-size;
The clouds that blocked its view have gone away;
The Moon is shining once again- so nice!
The night now looks as if it has turned day.
Our life on earth is like the Moon and Sun;
Its joys and sorrows wax and wane till death;
Sometimes, our life is full of vigour, fun,
To some like stars remain until last breath.
This is the way things happen on earth Man,
And changing them altogether, none can.
poem by John Celes
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An Imagination
intentionally i let my right hand hold my left hand
my left hand holds the branch of a tree that
holds some leaves,
my feet are on the trunk of a tree
beforehand i mentioned
there are clouds getting near us
fog that promise a cover
out there oceans sing
stars hang themselves upon a path of the horizon
all imaginary ceilings
where the moon behaves like one big chandelier
there are moment when stars and moon are simply themselves
as moon and stars without
self-imposed meanings and then all that we describe
is that it is the moon and they are the stars
no sauce for more words
nothing added nothing subtracted
faithful to the phenomenon of the stillness of what we see
to still this restlessness
we focus on what we have
a hand holding another hand
a head that looks upward to the heavens
a foot rooted like the roots of a tree
leaves falling like the wind
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Cloudy Dance
Moon and
Dance...
Dance with
Clouds...
Moon run to
Clouds...
Come out
with clouds...
Clouds are
Enjoy...
Too play not moon...
Moon enjoy to play
Clouds with a dance...
Dance of moon...
Stras are bleeking...
Moon very well
Loving to dance...
A cloudy dance...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Clouds Across The Moon
Standing here on the brighter side of life,
I realize missing out on the things I loved.
Walking down the shady lovers lanes
as the clouds moved across the moon.
I’ve seen the glamour and glitz of life
and long for the simple things of yesterday
when we walked arm in arm together
as the clouds moved across the moon.
Tomorrow is another day in the spotlight
regretting for another time again
of giving up all those yesterdays
as the clouds moved across the moon.
It’s hard to try not to regret
all the things you rushed forward to
even though at the time it meant losing you
as the clouds moved across the moon.
One day I may return home again,
when my dreams have turned to dust
then I may walk again with you
as the clouds move across the moon.
6 November 2011
poem by David Harris
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You Are The Tree, I Am The Wind
You are the tree, I am the wind,
You alter my course, yet you also bend;
No longer is either the same after each-
I am the wind, be my tree, I do beseech!
Ethereal, unseen-yet alterations I may make!
Magnificent, beautiful-away, my gust, you take!
Together, we are an ever-changing landscape,
Making wondrous reality out of our dreasmscape!
A tree, without its wind-breathless, becalmed:
A wind, without its tree-purposeless, withdrawn!
The wind sweeps around the tree, the tree dances
More inspiring is this than all other romances!
I, the most powerful wind, you, the most beautificent tree;
Wonder do I what, as one, together, we may be!
Maurice Harris,30 August 2009
poem by Maurice Harris
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Our Moon
July 1989
Alone I watched the Full Moon rise tonight.
The same Moon rose over you just hours ago.
Did you also watch it rise? Did clouds obscure the view?
Was your night as fine for stargazing?
When the Moon is just starting to clime my horizon
It is finishing its' journey across your sky.
Were you still awake to watch it set?
Did dreams call you away?
Tonight I will watch till this Moon leaves to find you again.
The calendar says each Moon shines on you first.
But the Moon doesn't follow... it leads!
Full Moon... Full Circle
Ruler of tides
My Moon first tonight.
I shall wish it safely back to you.
Last July the Moon carried grief for me.
Was your Moon full of Joy then?
I know it wounds you now.
Once Full Moons of June saw each of us born
Your Moon predating mine in years.
Round Moon... pale circular symbol of eternity
First seen by you... then me... then back again
This Moon connects us, at least in my own heart.
Allow me to wish it back to you fuller, brighter.
The July Moon rises Full over us tonight.
Full... of Promise
poem by Mary Havran
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Lily Adair
On the beryl-rimmed rebecs of Ruby,
Brought fresh from the hyaline streams,
She played, on the banks of the Yuba,
Such songs as she heard in her dreams.
Like the heavens, when the stars from their cyries
Look down through the ebon night air,
Were the groves by the Ouphantic Fairies
Lit up for my Lily Adair—
For my child-like Lily Adair—
For my heaven-born Lily Adair—
For my beautiful, dutiful Lily Adair.
Like two rose-leaves in sunshine when blowing,
Just curled softly, gently apart,
Were her lips by her passion, while growing
In perfume on the stalk of her heart.
As mild as the sweet influences
Of the Pleiades 'pregning the air—
More mild than the throned Excellencies
Up in heaven, was my Lily Adair—
Was my Christ-like Lily Adair—
Was my lamb-like Lily Adair—
Was my beautiful, dutiful Lily Adair.
At the birth of this fair virgin Vestal,
She was taken for Venus' child;
And her voice, though like diamond in crystal,
Was not more melodious than mild.
Like the moon in her soft silver splendor,
She was shrined in her own, past compare,
For no Angel in heaven was more tender
Than my beautiful Lily Adair—
Than my dove-like Lily Adair—
Than my saint-like Lily Adair—
Than my beautiful, dutiful Lily Adair.
Thus she stood on the arabesque borders
Of the beautiful blossoms that blew
On the banks of the crystalline waters,
Every morn, in the diaphane dew.
The flowers, they were radiant with glory,
And shed such perfume on the air,
That my soul, now to want them, feels sorry,
And bleeds for my Lily Adair—
For my much-loved Lily Adair—
For my long-lost Lily Adair—
For my beautiful, dutiful Lily Adair.
poem by Thomas Holley Chivers (1853)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Old Doubting Thomas
The old doubting Thomas is living today
And most of his school friends long with the dead lay
To the war cry of the leader they took up the gun
And they paid with their young lives for the war to be won
The young doubting Thomas he was young back then
He did not march off to war with the other young men
And though in his honour never a parade
He feels no regret at the choice he had made.
The old doubting Thomas he feels rather sad
That in World war 1 he lost his young dad
To his widowed mother a devoted son
He promised her never to take up a gun.
He still talks of the father he never did know
A war hero almost nine decades ago
The only regret in life he's ever had
Is that he never did know the one who was his dad.
The old doubting Thomas from time looking gray
His grandchildren have school going children today
Many of his school friends died in World War 2
And the dreams that they had were not meant to come true.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Strange Tree
There’s a strange tree which lives near me,
And this strange tree could not agree,
That if this tree could ever see,
A stranger tree it sure would be.
There’s a strange tree which topples me,
For this strange tree was tall, you see,
And then this tree would use its knee,
To break in three, the clouds who flee.
There’s a strange tree which lives near me,
The northern tree, its branches free,
The southern tree, no limb to see,
For this strange tree, was strange, you see?
There’s a strange tree which I can see,
And this strange tree (against my plea)
Was sent to sea, its roots now free,
And now this tree… A ship is he.
End.
The Last Duet
(With Lily Tomlin)
Lily:
You creep
Into my heart
And make my heart burn
Barry:
You sneak
Into my mind
And make my head ache
Both:
There are things I long to tell you
Lily:
You're much too blonde
Barry:
You snore
Both:
Look
It's time to face the music
Barry:
Bye bye
Lily:
Don't slam the door
And I don't want
Barry:
I don't want
Lily:
I don't want
Barry:
I don't want
Both:
No, I don't want your flowers anymore
This is the last duet
Last chance you're gonna get
No more ha harmony
For you and me
This is the final song
And when the music's through
This is the last duet
I'll ever do with you
Barry:
You're not the one that I want
Ooh ooh ooh
Tood-le-oo (Honey)
Lily:
Don't go breakin' my back
Don't call me
I'll call you
Both:
Back together
Reunited
Should feel so good
They say
So I hope there's no hard feelings
Barry:
Don't go 'way mad
Lily:
Just go 'way
Both:
'Cause
Enough
Is enough
Is enough
Is enough
Too much too little too late
Lily:
Tonight
Barry:
Tonight
Both:
With you I'm bored again
This is the last duet
Last chance you're gonna get
No more ha harmony
For you and me
This is the final song
And when the music's through
This is the last duet
I'll ever do with you
Both:
This is the last duet
Last chance you're gonna get
No more ha harmony
For you and me
This is the final song
And when the music's through
This is the last duet
I'll ever do
I'll ever do
I'll never never never never never do
With you
song performed by by Barry Manilow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Winter Rhapsody
Winter has come; and tardily
Now little nipping winds are rife
Where laggard leaves, on many a tree,
Still cling tenaciously to life.
Spent Autumn with a myriad hues
Had laughed at death and mocked the worm.
And now bluff Winter shouts glad news
Of Winter joys, which I refuse,
I simply sit and squirm.
For Winter, too, holds many joys,
Pert flappers, furred to ears and chin,
With painted lips, to lure the boys,
And hose that lets the breezes in
Go laughing by . . . A gladness cleaves
E'en to yon toiler, who with firm,
Swift strokes, sweeps up the fallen leaves
And, working, whistles. . . . No Man grieves
Save I who sit and squirm.
He whistles on in merry mood,
And sweeps, and sweeps along the street.
'How like all futile life,' I brood.
Nought but frustration, death, defeat.
For as he sweeps, poor toiling hack
Sweeps up dead leaf and deadly germ,
Rude winds arise and sweep them back,
And all's to do again! Alack!
I sit, and sneer, and squirm.
I squirm to hear the football fans'
Impassioned cry of 'On the ball!'
Lure of the links, the punter's plans
I squirm, I squirm, and scorn them all,
I squirm while thrushes, fluting free,
Shout triumph over clammy care....
Ah, laggard leaf upon the tree,
Squirm on, and join my thenody;
For Winter's only gift to me
Is woollen underwear.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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O...cloud's...
Clouds
Mood out
'Wear the moon...? '
Asking...
Moon was
Inside
The clouds
With run
And play...
Clouds mormering...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Doubting Heart
WHERE are the swallows fled?
Frozen and dead,
Perchance, upon some bleak and stormy shore.
O doubting heart!
Far over purple seas
They wait, in sunny ease,
The balmy southern breeze,
To bring them to their northern homes once more.
Why must the flowers die?
Prison’d they lie
In the cold tomb, heedless of tears or rain.
O doubting heart!
They only sleep below
The soft white ermine snow,
While winter winds shall blow,
To breathe and smile upon you soon again.
The sun has hid its rays
These many days;
Will dreary hours never leave the earth?
O doubting heart!
The stormy clouds on high
Veil the same sunny sky,
That soon (for spring is nigh)
Shall wake the summer into golden mirth.
Fair hope is dead, and light
Is quench’d in night.
What sound can break the silence of despair?
O doubting heart!
Thy sky is overcast,
Yet stars shall rise at last,
Brighter for darkness past,
And angels’ silver voices stir the air.
poem by Adelaide Anne Procter
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Under The Laburnum Tree
(A simple tale)
Under the Laburnum tree
She saw his gentle face
Under the Laburnum tree
She knew their first embrace
Under the Laburnum tree
She gave to him her love
Under the Laburnum tree
Beneath the stars above
Under the Laburnum tree
He left her there to cry
Under the Laburnum tree
That`s where she chose to die
(Under the Laburnum tree
Were scattered all its seeds
Under the Laburnum tree
Amongst the growing weeds)
Under the Laburnum tree
The moon was shining bright
Under the Laburnum tree
Her silv`ry soul took flight
Under the Laburnum tree
At last she was set free
Under the Laburnum tree
She found eternity
poem by Valerie Dohren
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The Aesthetes
The lily cranks, the lily cranks,
The loppy, loony lasses!
They multiply in rising ranks
To execute their solemn pranks,
They moon along in masses.
Blow, sweet lily, in the shade! O,
Sunflower decorate the dado!
The maiden ass, the maiden ass,
The tall and tailless jenny!
In limp attire as green as grass,
She stands, a monumental brass,
The one of one too many.
Blow, sweet lily, in the shade! O,
Sunflower decorate the dado!
poem by Ambrose Bierce
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