new tea shoots
delicately lighted
in the dawn sun
haiku by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Laughing
Laocoon and her two sons
Pressured storm, tried to move
No other more, emotion bound
Martyred, misconstrued
Lighted in a room, lanky room
Lighted, lighted, laughing in tune
Lighted, lighted, laughing
Laocoon and her two sons
Run the gamut, sated view
Know them more, emotion bound
Martyred, misconstrued
Lighted in a room, lanky room
Lighted, lighted, laughing in tune
Lighted, lighted, laughing
In a room, lock the door, latch the room
Lighted, lighted, laughing
Laocoon and her two sons
Ran the gamut, settled new,
Find a place fit to laugh,
Lock the doors, latch the room
Lighted in a room, lanky room
Lighted, lighted, laughing in tune
Lighted, lighted, laughing in tune
Lighted, lighted, laughing in tunes
Lighted, lighted, laughing in tunes
song performed by by REM
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Colours of Spring 2008 Version
The gracious orange tree's green shoots do grow
to greet blue sky with golden sun a-glow.
The vernal verdant shoots of Spring now sprout
through soft brown earth, here, there, and round about.
Dawn Daffodils, and Buttercups yellow,
red Rose and amber in alternate rows,
Violets, Lilacs, Pinks are pushing out,
divinity of Nature none may doubt.
(23 March 1975)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Dew
As dew leaves the cobweb lightly
Threaded with stars,
Scattering jewels on the fence
And the pasture bars;
As dawn leaves the dry grass bright
And the tangled weeds
Bearing a rainbow gem
On each of their seeds;
So has your love, my lover,
Fresh as the dawn,
Made me a shining road
To travel on,
Set every common sight
Of tree or stone
Delicately alight
For me alone.
poem by Sara Teasdale
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Mother is the root
.
Mother is the root.
Children are the shoots.
Roots take care of the shoots.
Shoots have no care for roots.
They have other things to care.
Roots don’t bother. Can mother?
17.07.2006
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The Taste of Death
I have not heard
The melody of morning birds
This entire summer season…
I’m sure they still sing
Delicately at dawn,
But my thoughts are deafening:
I think of your tears
And how we walked away
From each other on a fateful day
Of anger and jealousy,
A day of harsh words
And damnable recriminations!
When you feel hurt
To the empty core of your being,
Forgiveness is impossible
And the loneliness
Is the taste of death.
poem by Uriah Hamilton
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Dark Becomes Dawn
Dark as pitch - Dawn spreads light
Dark as dead - Dawn expires graves
Dark withers - Dawn freshness wears
Dark un-paths - Dawn re-strides.
Dark dapples gray - Dawn paints days
Dark specters doubt - Dawn assuredness' gate
Dark limitless plain - Dawn corrals night
Dark swifts shadows - Dawn hastens un-obscures.
Dark dissolves pace - Dawn zeniths one's range
Dark devours - Dawn sun rises
Dark bends down relief - Dawn uplifts sight
Dark dismantles - Dawn scatters golden arrows.
Dark de-flames - Dawn matches day
Dark invisibles - Dawn globes light
Dark unfolds dark dreams - Dawn un-sanctions screams
Dark submissively retires - Dawn crimson splendor.
'2008'
poem by Robert Sheridan
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The Candle As Metaphor For Grief
the white candle must have a heart
not showing any emotion when we parted
much feeling but there is a pretense for nothing
dismissing what is complicated
in the resting place the candle is lighted
shedding tears till dawn
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Let The Old Know
Roots die hard for shoots.
Shoots yield to flowers.
Flowers succumb to seeds.
Seeds die to give seedlings.
They are happy to do.
The old may know of this.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Eating Bamboo Shoots
My new province is a land of bamboo-groves:
Their shoots in spring fill the valleys and hills.
The mountain woodman cuts an armful of them
And brings them down to sell at the early market.
Things are cheap in proportion as they are common;
For two farthings, I buy a whole bundle.
I put the shoots in a great earthen pot
And heat them up along with boiling rice.
The purple nodules broken – like an old brocade;
The white skin opened – like new pearls.
Now every day I eat them recklessly;
For a long time I have not touched meat.
All the time I was living at Lo-yang
They could not give me enough to suit my taste,
Now I can have as many shoots as I please;
For each breath of the south-wind makes a new bamboo
I'd Rather Be Loved
I'd rather be loved,
Than to be painted...
As somebody that I aint,
To then be tainted.
I'd rather be loved,
Than to be sainted.
As someone that's depicted,
In a way to be shamed.
And by...
The light of the moon,
I want to be seen as the person that I am!
And by...
The dawn until noon,
I want to be seen as the person that I am!
I'd rather be loved...
Under bright lighted moon.
And,
Seen to be the person that I am.
I'd rather be loved...
From the dawning 'til noon.
By somebody who completely understands.
I'd rather be loved...
Under bright lighted moon.
I'd rather be loved...
From the dawning 'til noon.
And...
By that one who knows and understands.
I'd rather be loved...
From the dawning 'til noon.
And,
When night falls we know there's no demands.
And...
When night falls we're there and understand.
And...
We know what we do and what we can.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Life after death..... a journey
the shadow of the mystery of the
new life, awake
the womb of
life forever
life has wondered the solitude of time,
the stream of life of light
echo in a distance,
transcending the
ray that gives the
breath of life
time has drown to reveals
the essence of existence,
where wisdom has
lighted to glitter
in the dark
illusion of passion intertwine the
mystery of life, for the
twilight zone of dawn
of a new life is the
beginning of
life after death
face the dawn my dear soul... its the
end of time....a beginning of an
endless life time
poem by Antonio Liao
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Without shoots
You and your parents are
Shoot and roots of a seedling.
You and your children are
Root and shoots of a seedling.
Connectivity between
Root and shoot is original.
So is the bonding between
Shoots and root as natural.
Husband and wife are
Scion and stock of a graft.
Connectivity between
Scion and stock is artificial.
So is the bonding between
Husband and wife.
The old couple will know this.
Being childless is the one without shoots.
28.12.2011
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Welcome 2 The Dawn (acoustic Version)
When the things U know are right are far from what they seem
When the past becomes future and time becomes a dream
When the light of God is the only thing in life that will redeem
Welcome, welcome 2 the dawn
Welcome 2 the dawn
Well, yeah ha!
When the voice U hear commands U 2 entertain the absurd
And when U do the action unlocks the apocalypse, oh, that U've heard of
When the day lies before U seems the darkest in a word
Welcome, welcome 2 the dawn (Oh yes)
Welcome 2 the dawn
Every piece a puzzle and every name a clue (K A R M A {x4})
Every choice U make is karma so be careful what U do
(Welcome)
Welcome, welcome 2 the dawn
Welcome 2 the dawn
Thank U
song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Finally
just like anything that you did in the past
you started like
a
gasoline spilled
on the cemented road
and a matchstick lighted
it and the fire ran
like a will o'wisp
but as usual it was
just a very short
procedure
of a flame
that once lighted
your
paths of pain
your wish for relief
and then everything
simply turned off automatically
and you
began to do something
new & strange
that which shall not cease
your way of
breathing life to another life......
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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One
just like anything that you did in the past
you started like
a gasoline spilled
on the cemented road
and a matchstick lighted
it and the fire ran
like a will o'wisp
but as usual it was
just a very short
procedure
of a flame
that once lighted
your
paths of pain
your wish for relief
and then everything
simply turned off automatically
and you
began to do something
new & strange
that which shall not cease
your way of
breathing life to another life......
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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At Dawn
At dawn…
The time when I feel all alone
When everybody is asleep
And are still catching some zzzz’s
At dawn…
The hour when the place is quiet
When I’m almost dumb and deaf
And silence is all I can hear
At dawn…
The break when my mind’s unloaded
When my body is free from pains
And my heart is filled with wonder
At dawn…
Each day with a date with God
I spend this quiet time in grace
Thanking Him for the night that passed
At dawn…
I pray to our Almighty Lord above
Praising Him for who He is-
An awesome and wonderful God
At dawn…
I plead for His help so I could do
All the tasks that I have to make
At dawn, and for the rest of the day
poem by Rose de Ramar
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for FUGUSHIMA....
at dawn we again lighted
the lone candle at the altar
we will not blow the light off
till nighttime
till it consumes itself
till we light another candle again
this small light is our offering
to the engulfing darkness of this universe
it is this light that prays in silence
together with those distant stars in the heavens...
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Crack Of Dawn`
The king
made a fun of our poverty.
Marble faced girls always thought,
wearing black scarves –
sweeping the floor of white mausoleum.
You made a death
a loving eternity.
We die daily
in the face of old shine.
Who shoots a peacock
on the tree?
I mourn for the blue peace,
let the clouds come.
Who remains unhurt
unpained, when the night calls?
I seize a moon
to enter the crack of dawn.
poem by Satish Verma
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Why was Cupid a Boy
Why was Cupid a Boy
And why a boy was he
He should have been a Girl
For ought that I can see
For he shoots with his bow
And the Girl shoots with her Eye
And they both are merry and glad
And laugh when we do cry
And to make Cupid a Boyt
Was the Cupid Girls mocking plant
For a boy cant interpret the thingt
Till he is become a man
And then hes so piercd with care
And wounded with arrowy smarts
That the whole business of his life
Is to pick out the heads of the darts
Twas the Greeks love of war
Turnd Love into a Boy
And Woman into a Statue of Stone
And away fled every joy
poem by William Blake from Songs and Ballads (1794)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Dawn Finally Arises
Anyone who has ever remained persistent,
With a fluid consistency...
Has met some opposition.
And is familiar with negativity.
It takes the gritting of teeth.
And the biting of nails,
To prevail even when failure may be in sight.
With a nipping at the heels of one refusing defeat.
And suddenly it seems,
That nothing but nightmares...
Have come to replace hopes and dreams,
When dawn finally arises to clear a bright horizon.
It looks a lot different,
From the rumors I heard...
Of a dawn others said was gone.
It looks much different,
From rumors fed...
Of a dawn that would never turn on.
It looks a lot different,
From the rumors I heard...
Of a dawn others said was gone.
And...
I'm so glad I persisted.
To witness it to see,
For myself.
Yeah, yeah, yeah...
It looks a lot different,
From the rumors I heard...
Of a dawn others said was gone.
It looks much different,
From rumors fed...
Of a dawn that would never turn on.
It looks a lot different,
From the rumors I heard...
Of a dawn others said was gone.
And...
I'm so glad I persisted.
To witness it to see,
For myself.
It looks a lot different,
The dawn!
When it is witnessed,
The dawn!
And...
I'm so glad I persisted.
To witness and to see it,
For myself.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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