Nocturne
Birds are the thoughts of
Trees in the evening,
Perched in their minds.
I go down to the Arches
And see the river in full spate
With salmon leaping, defying gravity.
The fields are dark
And the factory lights
Twinkle beyond.
The traffic whispers on the by-pass
And the rain creates
Old ladies' faces,
Wrinkles in a pond.
poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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Related quotes
The Star
Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
How I wonder what you are,
Up above the world so high,
Like a diamond in the sky.
When the blazing sun is set,
And the grass with dew is wet,
Then you show your little light,
Twinkle, twinkle, all the night.
Then the traveler in the dark
Thanks you for your tiny spark,
He could not see where to go
If you did not twinkle so.
In the dark blue sky you keep,
And often through my curtains peep,
For you never shut your eye
Till the sun is in the sky.
As your bright and tiny spark
Lights the traveler in the dark,
Though I know not what you are,
Twinkle, twinkle, little star.
poem by Jane Taylor
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Otters
I'LL be an otter, and I'll let you swim
A mate beside me; we will venture down
A deep, full river when the sky above
Is shut of the sun; spoilers are we;
Thick-coated; no dog's tooth can bite at our veins
With ears and eyes of poachers; deep-earthed ones
Turned hunters: let him slip past,
The little vole, my teeth are on an edge
For the King-fish of the River!
I hold him up
The glittering salmon that smells of the sea:
I hold him up and whistle!
Now we go
Back to our earth; we will tear and eat
Sea-smelling salmon: you will tell the cubs
I am the Booty-brmger: I am the Lord
Of the River the deep, dark, full, and flowing River!
poem by Padraic Colum
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The River of Me
I launched myself on the river me
Way back when I was two or three
I sailed out through the wall of snow
Beneath the bridge where all kids go
That Cheyenne Bodie was ten feet tall
His voice so deep it filled a hall
And that was who I dreamed I’d be
Until Cochise came on the scene
There was ice on the river and ice on the pond
And the singing nun sang on and on
There were trees on the river bank, cliffs by the sea
And fish galore in the river of me
The fields were full of cows, corn or wheat
The air was thick with bees and heat
The summer lasted all year long
I never knew til it was gone
And then of course came that high school girl
Her glances made my river swirl
More complex than the universe
I never knew what she’d do next
There was light on the river and light on the pond
And the singing nun sang on and on
There were trees on the river bank, cliffs by the sea
And fish galore in the river of me
And up we soared towards the sky
Through songs and dancing by and by
My waterfalls and waves ran high
For just the winking of an eye
And in the distance the quiet sea
was waiting on the river me
And on the banks the weeds grew tall
Where rusting leaves began to fall
Now there’s night on the river and night on the pond
And the singing nun is long since gone
There are trees on the river bank, cliffs by the sea
And memories in the river of me
I launched myself on the river me
Way back when I was two or three
I sailed out through the wall of snow
Beneath the bridge where all kids go
River-Mates
I’LL be an otter, and I’ll let you swim
A mate beside me; we will venture down
A deep, dark river, when the sky above
Is shut of the sun; spoilers are we,
Thick-coated; no dog’s tooth can bite at our veins
With eyes and ears of poachers; deep-earthed ones
Turned hunters; let him slip past
The little vole; my teeth are on an edge
For the King-fish of the River!
I hold him up
The glittering salmon that smells of the sea;
I hold him high and whistle!
Now we go
Back to our earths; we will tear and eat
Sea-smelling salmon; you will tell the cubs
I am the Booty-bringer, I am the Lord
Of the River; the deep, dark, full and flowing River.
poem by Padraic Colum
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Somewhere Out There
Last time I talked to you,
You were lonely and out of place.
You were looking down on me,
Lost out in space.
Laid underneath the stars,
Strung out and feeling brave.
Watch the riddles glow,
Watch them float away.
Down here in the atmosphere,
Garbage and city lights,
You gotta save your tired soul,
You gotta save our lives.
Turn on the radio,
To find you on sattellite,
Im waiting for the sky to fall,
Im waiting for a sign.
All we are is all so far.
Youre falling back to me,
The star that I cant see.
I know youre out there,
Somewhere out there.
Youre falling out of reach,
Defying gravity,
I know youre out there,
Somewhere out there.
Hope you remember me,
When youre homesick and need a change.
I miss your purple hair,
I miss the way you taste.
I know youll come back someday,
On a bed of nails awake.
Im praying that you dont burn out,
Or fade away.
All we are is all so far
Youre falling back to me,
The star that I cant see.
I know youre out there,
Somewhere out there.
Youre falling out of reach,
Defying gravity,
I know youre out there,
Somewhere out there.
Youre falling back to me,
The star that I cant see.
I know youre out there, oh.
Youre falling out of reach,
Defying gravity....
I know youre out there,
Somewhere out there.
Youre falling back to me,
The star that I cant see.
I know youre out there,
Somewhere out there.
Youre falling out of reach,
Defying gravity,
I know youre out there,
Somewhere out there.
Youre falling back to me.
Well I know,
I know.
Youre falling out of reach.
I know...
song performed by by Our Lady Peace
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wrinkles
Wrinkles in time
trite phrase yet true
where life creates chaos
it leaves wrinkles in you
Furrows in fields
we pass along the way
while navigating roads
we must travel each day
All leave their mark
both inside and out
as we strive to comprehend
what life really is about
Holes in the fabric of time and space
equate to the wearing that in living takes place
With fabric and lives the choices seem the same
We can deal with challenges or merely place the blame
So whether wrinkles we bear
Or holes we must mend
We have tools at hand
It’s our choice in the end
poem by Mary Havran
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Factory
Days are long but the minds are strong
In the factory
Heads are down and all the people frown
In the factory
I'm so down I put my head around every noose I see
Days are long but the minds are strong
In the factory
Eyes are mean but the walls are clean
In the factory
Patience now they're gonna string you out
In the factory
I'm so tired I never go outside every night I sleep
Days are long but the minds are gone
In the factory
song performed by by The Vines from Highly Evolved
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Back There In Old Duhallow The Frosty Fields Are Gray
Back there in old Duhallow the frosty fields are gray
And the wildborn birds are silent at the dawning of the day
And the chilly winds of January sough in the naked trees
And ice is on the dark pond from the hard overnight freeze
In January in Duhallow the hedgerows looking bare
And in the rushy field by the river the shy and elusive hare
In the greyness of his surroundings quite visible in his coat of brown
For to warm the coldness in his bones through the rushes racing up and down
From the fields of old Duhallow the Spring seems far away
And the cattle in the farm-yard shed are bellowing for hay
And hungry birds by the back door squabble over crusts of bread
And before the warmth of Spring weeks of cold weather ahead
And the chirping house sparrows in the back-yard the only birds one does hear
Back there in old Duhallow tis a cold time of the year.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Where Are the Birds of Wenzhou, Bei Bei
‘The skies are empty and grey at dawn,
They’re empty and brown at noon,
Where are the birds of Wenzhou, Bei Bei
Deep in the afternoon?
Even at dusk when the air is still
Or the cool breath heaves from the sea,
I wait for the beat of wings then, Bei Bei
Rushing to comfort me.’
‘The birds were once when the paddy fields
Ran down by the river tides,
When the sky was blue and the air was clean
And the trees reached up to the stars.
The birds were here when the skies were clear
No buildings blocked the view...’
‘But where are the birds of Wenzhou, Bei Bei
Why have they gone from you? ’
‘They left when the smog came rolling in
And the insects died on the ground,
When the grass turned white and the acid rain
Caused all the trees to drown.
They left when the river turned yellow mud
And the fields died under the road,
When men built towers of thirty floors,
They left the town in droves.’
The skies are empty and grey at dawn,
They’re empty and brown at noon.
‘The birds of Wenzhou took their nests
And travelled to old Hangzhou.
They went to live by a wondrous lake
That tales will tell, is blue...’
‘Where are the birds of Wenzhou, Bei Bei...
Have they forsaken you? ’
8 November 2005
poem by David Lewis Paget
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Clearing at Dawn
The fields are chill, the sparse rain has stopped;
The colours of Spring teem on every side.
With leaping fish the blue pond is full;
With singing thrushes the green boughs droop.
The flowers of the field have dabbled their powdered cheeks;
The mountain grasses are bent level at the waist.
By the bamboo stream the last fragment of cloud
Blown by the wind slowly scatters away.
Li Po
tr. Waley
A panorama with arches…
Arches, arches, arches
Arches of lips, palates, eyes, eyebrows
Arches of hearts, minds, kisses,
Indignities, obedience’s,
Arches of dreams, skies, stars, waters
Arched bridges that make me easier to reach you
More quickly than one single arc
Arched of words, that goes so smoothly
When they fly in arch style between us
Arches under sustained bridges of our love
And, I get thirsty oftentimes for them…
Vasil Marku 2012
poem by Vasil Marku
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Whispers Of The North
Whispers of the north
Soon I will go forth
To that wild and barren land
Where nature takes its course
Whispers of the wind
Soon I will be there again
Bound with a wild and restless drive
That pulls me from within
And we can ride away
We can glide all day
And we can fly away
Whispers of the north
Soon I will return again
To those endless afternoons
In sunshine and in rain
Whispers of my love
Days and weeks on end
I will share my thoughts of her
In prayers that I will send
And we can ride away
We can glide all day
And we can fly away
Whispers of the north
The river and the shore
In the land that tested eskimos
Ten thousand years before
Whispers of my heart
In the tracks of animals
I will leave my footprints there
To lie beneath the snow
And we can ride away
We can glide all day
And we can fly away
Whispers of the wind
I will feel it sting
I will see it rise and fall
I will hear it sing
The sound is like a song to me
It takes away the pain
The river is the melody
And sky is the refrain
And we can ride away
We can glide all day
And we can fly away
And we can ride away
We can glide all day
And we can fly away
Whispers of the north
Soon I will go forth
Whispers of the north
Soon I will go forth
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Improvisations: Light And Snow: 15
The music of the morning is red and warm;
Snow lies against the walls;
And on the sloping roof in the yellow sunlight
Pigeons huddle against the wind.
The music of evening is attenuated and thin —
The moon seen through a wave by a mermaid;
The crying of a violin.
Far down there, far down where the river turns to the west,
The delicate lights begin to twinkle
On the dusky arches of the bridge:
In the green sky a long cloud,
A smouldering wave of smoky crimson,
Breaks in the freezing wind: and above it, unabashed,
Remote, untouched, fierly palpitant,
Sings the first star.
poem by Conrad Potter Aiken
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55
I went out early this morning to take a walk and see the world
At its unfolding, Skies grey and moving slowly away from light,
The dim lights, Pushing away dark clouds vice versa tugging each other Perhaps not wanting to part (Whatever happened last night? Nobody wants to recall)
Towards an edge on the right corner of the gym, Everything is shadowy (Like a dawn tryst In a tight room so foul
Filled with cheap perfume Beating warmth like Pink baby rats)
A black outline of coconut trees, Some houses appearing as smoke
Rising to the skies Like men smoking, Letting go off The sighs inside
their hearts
They are huge and keeps a chest full of Frogs wanting to jump
Into the pond, their dreams croak and croak
Throughout this hot summer Pleading to the white heronFor rain and more rain Lest they die
What arrived instead is the plow, Their territories cut into small pieces
And some will have no place to live, I am referring to the frogs
like men And the children Of the little space This pond drying itself
To death. The air is thin and sharp to the feel Of guts
Gathering the early dusts of the south bound road, And few raindrops
Fell on the chalky pathways some two or Three farm children running for cover,
I walk fast, trying to outrun The children, the frogs, the men,
And the shadowy coconut trees, Fast and faster still Like my thoughts running and running In circles Oval to this gym
The first ray is coming out From the edge of a grey cloud Pushed towards a darker side To my eyes Lights stab and light
With more light Gushing forth from the stomach
Of dawn.
Someone just performed The ritual of morning The birth Of another day, I walk past time And must go home on time
I have my lover for breakfast Waiting And some thoughts
Running and running thoughts wanting To stop.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The ritual of morning
I went out early this morning to take a walk and see the world
At its unfolding, Skies grey and moving slowly away from light,
The dim lights, Pushing away dark clouds vice versa tugging each other Perhaps not wanting to part (Whatever happened last night? Nobody wants to recall)
Towards an edge on the right corner of the gym, Everything is shadowy (Like a dawn tryst In a tight room so foul
Filled with cheap perfume Beating warmth like Pink baby rats)
A black outline of coconut trees, Some houses appearing as smoke
Rising to the skies Like men smoking, Letting go off The sighs inside
their hearts
They are huge and keeps a chest full of Frogs wanting to jump
Into the pond, their dreams croak and croak
Throughout this hot summer Pleading to the white heronFor rain and more rain Lest they die
What arrived instead is the plow, Their territories cut into small pieces
And some will have no place to live, I am referring to the frogs
like men And the children Of the little space This pond drying itself
To death. The air is thin and sharp to the feel Of guts
Gathering the early dusts of the south bound road, And few raindrops
Fell on the chalky pathways some two or Three farm children running for cover,
I walk fast, trying to outrun The children, the frogs, the men,
And the shadowy coconut trees, Fast and faster still Like my thoughts running and running In circles Oval to this gym
The first ray is coming out From the edge of a grey cloud Pushed towards a darker side To my eyes Lights stab and light
With more light Gushing forth from the stomach
Of dawn.
Someone just performed The ritual of morning The birth Of another day, I walk past time And must go home on time
I have my lover for breakfast Waiting And some thoughts
Running and running thoughts wanting To stop.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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My Evening Star
Twinkle Twinkle Evening Star
How I wonder where you are
Miles and miles of land and sea
In between you and me
But no matter where you are
You'll always be my Evening Star
Oh! pretty pretty Evening Star
How I wish to be where you are
Rain or snow, come what may
I'll make it there one day
So wait for me my Evening Star
'cause I'll be there even it's far
poem by Anonnyme Dloader
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On My Own
And now Im all alone again
no where to turn no one to go to
Without a home without a friend without a face to say hello to
And now the night is near
now I can make believe hes here
Sometimes I walk alone at night when everybody
else is sleeping
I think of him and then I'm happy with
the company I'm keeping
The city goes to bed
And I can live inside my head
On my own,
Pretending he's beside me,
All alone, I walk with him till morning.
Without him, I feel his arms around me,
And when I lose my way, I close my eyes,
And he has found me...
In the rain,
The pavement shines like silver,
All the lights are misty in the river,
In the darkness the trees are full of starlight,
And all I see is him and me,
Forever and forever...
And I know it's only in my mind,
That I'm talking to myself and not to him,
And although I know that he is blind,
Still I say, there's a way for us...
I love him,
But when the night is over,
He is gone, the river's just a river
Without him the world around me changes,
The trees are bare and everywhere the streets are full of strangers.
I love him,
But everyday I'm learning,
All my life,
I've only been pretending,
Without me,
His world will go on turning,
A world that's full of happiness,
That I have never known...
I love him... I love him...
I love him... But only on my own...
song performed by by Lea Salonga
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Down to Up
(- these are the reflections that came to mind while I was looking at the painting 'Riddarfjarden in Stockholm' by Eugene Jansson,1898.
I simply wrote them down -my thoughts- just as they came to me.)
That time shall come.
By dread or by due,
As it must
For the pain of living in a world untrue -
The night grows quiet.
While the city lights reflecting
Upon the effulgent bay
Slowly, soundlessly fade down,
down...down.
Into the eddies of the deep,
Where the last
Of the lights evening song
Whispers away...far away.
Where the souls seperate
And the minds effortlessly bend,
Where the hearts say good-bye
And know...this IS the end -
Down we must go.
To where at last...long last
The great Truth wins out;
For the dark and the despair
The drear and the dread,
Are finally put away
In their unholy place,
Forever buried deep
In the muddy waters of the eternal dead -
But, the heart and the soul!
(oh, the heart and soul) ,
No dark waters under heaven
Can ever hold -
Up, through the mire rise.
Unto the other side;
Going down, to come up,
Into all-new waters
There, forever freely to reside -
poem by Smoky Hoss
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Your Catfish Friend
If I were to live my life
in catfish forms
in scaffolds of skin and whiskers
at the bottom of a pond
and you were to come by
one evening
when the moon was shining
down into my dark home
and stand there at the edge
of my affection
and think, "It's beautiful
here by this pond.I wish
somebody loved me,"
I'd love you and be your catfish
friend and drive such lonely
thoughts from your mind
and suddenly you would be
at peace,
and ask yourself, "I wonder
if there are any catfish
in this pond?It seems like
a perfect place for them."
poem by Richard Brautigan
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The Whale
in the night-rain
driven from the river
'cross the railway-tracks
at traffic-lights
came face to face
with the ghost of a whale
searching for his jaw-bone
one-time strapped to the ceiling of a pub
and in the time it takes
the lights from red to green
in his eyes
thought I'd seen much more
as down the hill to the sea
at the dock-wall
saw his tail-light dip and fade
as he dived
tarmac deep
into the dark streets
and the gutters overflowed
with the wake and wash he made
poem by STEPHEN BRIAN Brady
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