Let Me Be The Wind
i am the wind
the gentle caresses
the magnet that helps
pull the sexuality from within you
so that you shine in your aura
this grey morn
your free wheeling hair
that dance in my hands
helps release the brightest of stars
your engaging smile
and ingratiating cotton
the warmth of your heart
runs its way into mine
this grey morn
the cool breeze
gathers spring onto your face
you soar into sky
- an alluring male
at his handsomest
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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The Grey World
Grey nights in the wind,
And the grey-faced dead.
Grey hairs in my head,
And grey eyes in my mind.
Grey mists in the morn,
And grey waves that rave,
Grey mould on my grave,
And grey eyes forlorn.
Grey clouds in the sky,
And the grey world asleep,
Grey ghosts that sigh,
And grey eyes that weep.
poem by Leon Gellert
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A Little Bit Of Sunshine
A little bit of sunshine every day,
Helps to keep the rain clouds far away.
A little bit of sunshine, for your soul,
Helps you to weather even bitter cold.
A little bit of sunshine in your week,
Helps pull you out of bed, when you are sick.
A little bit of sunshine on your brain,
Helps get out all bad feelings, and mental strain.
A little bit of sunshine in your life,
Helps you to deal, with all your stress and strife.
A little bit of sunshine at the start,
Can even help to heal a broken heart.
6/26/10 Alton Texas
poem by Juan Olivarez
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Helps Me Helps You
Look at all the toys I got
Look at all the things I need
Look at all the toys I got
Look at all the mouths I feed
Have I got a wonderful deal for you
What belongs to me belongs to you
I understand what youre going through
I know the point to push you to
My policy helps me helps you
Generosity helps me helps you
Conspiracy helps me helps you
Put you trust in me Ill help you too
Look at all the things Ive done
Look at all the rights I wrong
The means will justify the end
For you to save and me to spend
Cos Ive got a great idea you see
What belongs to you belongs to me
I know just what you wanna do
I know how I can get there too
Hypocrisy helps me helps you
Democracy helps me helps you
Ideology helps me helps you
Put your trust in me Ill help you through
(hirst/moginie)
song performed by by Midnight Oil
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I'm going to dance!
I'm going to dance
I'm going to dance!
I will see the stars
holding hands with the moon
kisses send from the shutting stars
will twirl on my soul
with no control
I'm going to dance
I'm going to dance!
I will dissolve
disoriented fear
and send it
to the clouds
the cotton puffs
so white and pure
will turn grey
for a moment to come
and thunders sound
when fear is there
will clear the air
after its all done
all will be one
I'm going to dance
I'm going to dance!
On the canvas
and imprint
my heart
on the blank
white cloth
not red
but silver and gold
poem by Kasia Fedyk
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Into The Twilight
OUT-WORN heart, in a time out-worn,
Come clear of the nets of wrong and right;
Laugh, heart, again in the grey twilight,
Sigh, heart, again in the dew of the morn.
Your mother Eire is aways young,
Dew ever shining and twilight grey;
Though hope fall from you and love decay,
Burning in fires of a slanderous tongue.
Come, heart, where hill is heaped upon hill:
For there the mystical brotherhood
Of sun and moon and hollow and wood
And river and stream work out their will;
And God stands winding His lonely horn,
And time and the world are ever in flight;
And love is less kind than the grey twilight,
And hope is less dear than the dew of the morn.
poem by William Butler Yeats
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Dancing My Fears Away
I’ll dance when I want to
I’ll dance what I feel
I’ll dance until the night is done
Until dusk almost here
Dancing helps me laugh
Dancing helps me cry
Dancing helps me everyday
To get by and by
It expresses my sadness
It expresses my fears
It expresses all my highest emotions
It helps helps me let go of my cares
I’ll dance when I want to
I’ll dance what I feel
I’ll dance until the night is done
Until dusk almost here
poem by Analyssa Mevs
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Ten Grey hairs and a silver one
I discovered my first grey hair
when I was Seventeen years old
It had to do with broken up my first relationship
I discovered my second grey hair
when I was Twenty years old
It had to do with the quarrels at home
I discovered my third grey hair
when I was Twenty-one years old
It had to do with searching for work
I discovered my fourth grey hair
when I was Twenty-three years old
It had to do with loosing my job
I discovered my fifth grey hair
when I was Twenty-five years old
It had to do with giving up my unborn child
I discovered my sixth grey hair
When I was Twenty-eight years old
It had to do with opening my pub
I discovered my seventh grey hair
When I was thirty years old
It had to do with giving birth to my daughter
I discovered my eight grey hair
When I was thirty –two years old
It had to do with the first day at the kinder garden school
I discovered my ninth grey hair
When I was thirty-four years old
It had to do with to find out that some thing was missing
I discovered my tenth grey hair
When I was thirty-five years old
It had to do with the fights between my sisters and mum
My one Silver hair I discovered lately
Has to do with you
Because I miss you so hard …
poem by Pascale Ost
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January Morn
Bare branches of each tree
on this chilly January morn
look so cold so forlorn.
Gray skies dip ever so low
left from yesterday's dusting of snow.
Yet in the heart of each tree
waiting for each who wait to see
new life as warm sun and breeze will blow,
like magic, unlock springs sap to flow,
buds, new leaves, then blooms will grow. Like heart and soul in every man
who let their light grow ever dim
a spark still burns low within
longing to burst forth, to shine again.
Like bare branches on a January morn
don't feel cold don't feel forlorn.
Our Heavenly Father like warm spring sun
like gentle warm wind
when called upon
will make each light burn bright again.
poem by Nelda Hartman
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09.ode Beyond The Graves
autumn
asphalt street
grey sky
cool breeze
affords a floor
of brown leaves
to dance and
settle on a spot
your leather shoes
an eagerness
played out
by the leaves ealier
if i could just move
to welcome you
sweet heart
it would be agile
graceful
as the waltzing breeze
and the leaves
in their entrancing twirl of love
the museum and my poems
are nearby
there,
your heart will flutter
like the dazzling blooms - in spring
your tears trickle
in the spirit of my verses
if i could just hold you
by the hands again
and warm you up
with my love
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Platinum
diamond
the facets
the glitters
platinum
a sexuality
up to now
unknown
the male instinct
rises above
the glitters
the white metallic shine
to crown
the head, aura
he walks
with a heightened
realisation of himself
the male element
ying and yang
platinum is
definitely yang,
male
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow
Traffic lights shinning in my eyes,
And here I am standing in the rain
Counting every dropp that fell in my palm.
The Cold breeze frozen my body
Like yesterday when you left me in vain
On were I can’t stand from all the pain.
That was yesterday I could still remember.
Yesterday, I was stood under the burning rain.
Were my heart was freezing under the sun
When all the blue and woe has passed my way
And those autumn leaves are my shelter
On the broken tree house of memory
That my heart is getting weak,
And it’s hard for me to breathe.
That was yesterday, I was dazzle in lights of lies.
And today,
The sun grimaces in the early morn
Were the world embrace me from the past
That beauty blooms here inside my heart
Spring’s blossoms comes only a second of time
For today, loves grown deep in the heart of me
Voices tell me I should carry on
To hold the stars up in the sky
And see the world will smile again.
Today, my heart will dance again
For tomorrow,
Love will bloom like flowers in spring
A sweet smile will curve in my lips
Tomorrow, I’ll be strong as a wind
Dance on a game of love,
Swaying on a battle of life.
poem by Cheryl Aldea
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Day dawn
All yesterday the thought of you was resting in my soul,
And when sleep wandered o'er the world that very thought she stole
To fill my dreams with splendour such as stars could not eclipse,
And in the morn I wakened with your name upon my lips.
Awakened, my beloved, to the morning of your eyes,
Your splendid eyes, so full of clouds, wherein a shadow tries
To overcome the flame that melts into the world of grey,
As coming suns dissolve the dark that veils the edge of day.
Cool drifts the air at dawn of day, cool lies the sleeping dew,
But all my heart is burning, for it woke from dreams of you;
And O! these longing eyes of mine look out and only see
A dying night, a waking day, and calm on all but me.
So gently creeps the morning through the heavy air,
The dawn grey-garbed and velvet-shod is wandering everywhere
To wake the slumber-laden hours that leave their dreamless rest,
With outspread, laggard wings to court the pillows of the west.
Up from the earth a moisture steals with odours fresh and soft,
A smell of moss and grasses warm with dew, and far aloft
The stars are growing colourless, while drooping in the west,
A late, wan moon is paling in a sky of amethyst.
The passing of the shadows, as they waft their pinions near,
Has stirred a tender wind within the night-hushed atmosphere,
That in its homeless wanderings sobs in an undertone
An echo to my heart that sobbing calls for you alone.
The night is gone, beloved, and another day set free,
Another day of hunger for the one I may not see.
What care I for the perfect dawn? the blue and empty skies?
The night is always mine without the morning of your eyes.
poem by Emily Pauline Johnson
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Sonnet 76: She Comes, And Straight Therewith
She comes, and straight therewith her shining twins do move
Their rays to me, who in her tedious absence lay
Benighted in cold woe; but now appears my day,
The only light of joy, the only warmth of love.
She comes with light and warmth, which like Aurora prove
Of gentle force, so that mine eyes dare gladly play
With such a rosy morn, whose beams most freshly gay
Scorch not, but only do dark chilling sprites remove.
But lo, while I do speak, it groweth noon with me,
Her flamy glist'ring lights increase with time and place;
My heart cries, Ah, it burns; mine eyes now dazzl'd be:
No wind, no shade can cool, what help then in my case,
But with short breath, long looks, staid feet and walking head,
Pray that my sun go down with meeker beams to bed.
poem by Philip Sidney
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The Wind is Free
Wake from your nightmare, shut your eye, let life begin
With the cock crow and traffic flow the nightmare begins
The struggle the hustle nothing but pain and strife
What would I do to make it last forever
To spread my wings soar from the worlds dread
For I am soar brake-lights, red-lights the organized restraint
Whatever my threat unchain me before I self destruct
I am The Wind, let me be free
Free be me, the wind I am let me be
Blowing untamed across the plains let me reign
The cool breeze on your back with the sun in your face
The lash of winter that cools the summer
The messenger of spring with that scent filled air
The wind is free; my spirit please let it be
How can I be open minded…
When by your expectations my thoughts are guided
I let me have my go not your “The path of life is winded”
Will it be my destiny when by you founded?
Can a wind blow in a vacuum?
Could you turn an easterly…
Into a north easterly even if you tried
Then why do you dictate that I dick-take the stereotype
The wind is free if not let me sleep forever
poem by Dave Harry
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Grey, Grey Sky
Someday I will ride the great bird
Into the sky, into the grey
And will take a bright secret of mine
Into the grey, grey sky.
And the light will come, piercing my eyes
Out of the sky, out of the grey
Come blinding and searing these eyes
Out of the grey, grey sky.
And I will find comfort in this
In the wide sky, in the wide grey
In the painful dark brightness of light
Light of the grey, grey sky.
My secret will fly away home
Into the sky, into the grey
And the great bird will follow it there
Into the grey, grey sky.
And I will be riding that bird
Bird of the sky, bird of the grey
And I will come home once again
Home to the grey, grey sky.
But for now I am weighted, earthbound
One of the mud, one of the ground
And I write this sad song to sad sound
Girl of the pavement sighs.
poem by Grace Hutton
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Dryads
When meadows are grey with the morn
In the dusk of the woods it is night:
The oak and the birch and the pine
War with the glimmer of light.
Dryads brown as the leaf
Move in the gloom of the glade;
When meadows are grey with the morn
Dim night in the wood has delayed.
The cocks that crow to the land
Are faint and hollow and shrill:
Dryads brown as the leaf
Whisper, and hide, and are still.
poem by Siegfried Sassoon
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Let's Talk About Love
Everywhere I go all the places that I've been
Every smile is a new horizon on a land I've never seen
There are people around the world - different faces different names
But there's one true emotion that reminds me we're the same...
Lets talk about love
From the laughter of a child to the tears of a grown man
There's a thread that runs right through us all and helps us understand
As subtle as a breeze - that fans a flicker to a flame
From the very first sweet melody to the very last refrain...
Lets talk about love
Lets talk about us
Lets talk about life
Lets talk about trust
Lets talk about love
It's the king of all who live and the queen of good hearts
It's the ace you may keep up your sleeve - 'til the name is all but lost
As deep as any sea - with the rage of any storm
But as gentle as a falling leaf on any autumn morn...
Lets talk about love - it's all were needin'
Lets talk about us - it's the air we're breathin'
Lets talk about life - I wanna know you
Lets talk about trust - and I wanna show you
Lets talk about love
song performed by by Celine Dion from Let's Talk About Love
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sad-Eyed and Soft and Grey
Sad-Eyed and soft and grey thou art, o morn!
Across the long grass of the marshy plain
Thy west wind whispers of the coming rain,
Thy lark forgets that May is grown forlorn
Above the lush blades of the springing corn,
Thy thrush within the high elms strives in vain
To store up tales of spring for summer's pain -
Vain day, why wert thou from the dark night born?
O many-voiced strange morn, why must thou break
With vain desire the softness of my dream
Where she and I alone on earth did seem?
How hadst thou heart from me that land to take
Wherein she wandered softly for my sake
And I and she no harm of love might deem?
poem by William Morris
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Blanche
Breeze! brisk breeze! that movest with the morn!
Breeze! lithe breeze! that creepest through the corn!
Breeze! O breeze! that fannest the forlorn!
Oh linger by the lattice of sweet Blanche of mine!
Breeze! coy breeze! that loiterest for noon!
Breeze! true breeze! that hast a tryst with June!
Breeze! kind breeze! I beg of thee a boon!
Oh peep in through the lattice of poor Blanche of mine!
Breeze! fleet breeze! that goest with the day!
Breeze! dear breeze! that hastenest away!
Breeze! breeze! breeze! I beg of thee to stay,
And breathe upon the pillow of pale Blanche of mine!
Breeze! night-breeze! that wailest on the wold!
Breeze! lost breeze! that wanderest in the cold!
Breeze! dread breeze! oh flit not by the mould
Which shelters what is left me of lost Blanche of mine!
poem by Alfred Austin
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The Red Rose
The red rose wept for long
Upon the autumn sad song
And then recovered from grief
And shattered the wet green leaf
The spring is there but the tears
Of lover, the autumn how bears
The little heart in search of charm
Is beating and beating and warm
The red rose is watching the gloom
Of the lover’s heart being in boom
His beloved had nodded him back
The rose from him she does not take
The nature feeling warmth is now cold
The autumn will take him in firm hold
The beauty will go leaving the scars
Of drowning moon and falling stars
The thorns will curse the rose to retreat
The red rose weeps on nature’s treat
It doesn’t matter what have gone
The rose will wait for the dawn
The spring no more helps the friend
His beauty will shatter like wall of sand
His days of life will end very soon
At morn, at noon or after noon
The rose sees autumn in the spring
A wave of sorrow his end will bring
The red rose weeps and weeps more
Upon these tears his eyes will sore
No spring can stop, no joy can amaze
With each passing moment his death he chase
So times are when autumn comes in spring
No joy can touch you no nerve can sing
February 16,2005
poem by Abdul Sattar
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