As Outcast and Forecast
As some surf sculptured flotsam flung
from shore to stormy sea,
as jetsam leaf on life’s tree hung
from fate’s branch hinge, torn free.
As date, as anniversary,
from calendar expunged,
as sailor smit by siren’s see
in swirling ocean plunged.
As broken toy, forgotten, cast
aside some summer day,
abandoned by spite’s child who fast
found other ploy to play.
As voter, duty done, expelled
by politician snide
who cared more for positions held
than bridging deep divide.
As damsel in distress, no knight,
reflecting on love lost,
rejected by some parasite
who’d calculate cash cost.
As bloom precocious whose delight
is pinched by early frost
or stemmed by scissors expedite
in cut glass vase fast tossed.
As endless treason season’s plight
on land none cultivate,
whose soil pollution spoiled despite
a fertile womb to sate.
As rock, protective ice-cap stripped
by rival's global warming,
fresh water drained, soul tainted, whipped,
ripped heart, unheeded warning.
As vintage wine which once was laid
in atmosphere protected,
but thence withdrawn, to be displayed
turned tart, tight tannic wrecked it.
As troubled mind no music may
relieve from woes too great,
find no reprieve when far away
love slips to leave cold grate.
These gifts, false friend, to me you gave
when making tracks elsewhere.
What’s left, what haunts me to the grave? -
wrong, song distraught, wrung care.
Forecast
Yet tides may turn, storms ride to peace
when filter fresh Fates find,
new Spring brings leaf on life through lease
to leave past grief behind.
Though idylls fail, all tales too sad
may be rewrit more kind,
a fresh installment good from bad
could conjur – state of mind.
or sleight of hand which line by line
inscribes in polychrome
nuancing black and white decline
from sweetness honeycomb.
Who once mourned lonely through caprice,
unhappy, undermined
dawn redisovers as tears cease -
ice melts, pain’s chains unwind.
Oases spring as joys increase
through Time’s new rhyme – the blind
fresh insight find as golden fleece
transmutes mute stone refined.
These gifts, fair friend, I offer you
for future which could prove
fullfilling, fortunate and true,
fond, fertile – mountains move.
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Variation on a Theme
Though Time turns tides, storms ride to peace
when filter fresh Fates find,
Spring leaves [p]lay life as transient lease
leave grief behind in mind.
All idylls fail, though tales too sad
may be rewrit more kind,
where adaptation, good from bad,
would conjur state of mind
or sleight of hand which line by line
would draw in polychrome
the bitter black and white decline
from sweetness honeycomb.
Who once mourned lonely through caprice,
unhappy, undermined
dawn redisovers, pulses ceased -
tears frozen, chains unwind.
Oases fail as pains increase
as second sight's eye blind
transmutes what once seemed golden fleece
to stone mute, unrefined.
As some surf sculptured flotsam flung
back to the stormy sea,
as jetsam leaf of life’s tree hung
once on fate’s hinge, torn free.
As date, as anniversary,
from calendar expunged,
as sailor smit by siren’s see
in swirling ocean plunged.
As broken toy, forgotten, cast
aside some summer day,
abandoned by spite’s child who fast
found other ploy to play.
As voter, duty done, expelled
by politician snide
who cared more for positions held
than bridging deep divide.
As damsel in distress, no knight,
reflecting on love lost,
rejected by some parasite
who’d calculate cash cost.
As bloom precocious whose delight
is pinched by early frost
or stemmed by scissors expedite
in cut glass vase quick tossed.
As endless treason season’s plight
on land none cultivate,
whose soil pollution spoiled despite
a fertile womb to sate.
As troubled mind no music may
relieve from woes too great,
sights slight release when far away
love slips to leave cold grate.
These gifts to her he, heartless, gave
when making tracks elsewhere,
what then remained gained thankless grave
brave song none left to care.
Rose to the bait who float ignored,
hook, line, and sinker swallowed,
in palm of hand fate's lines seemed flawed
fast dreams, past life, found hollowed.
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Some Other Spring
Irene kitchings / arthur herzog jr.
Some other spring
Ill try to love
Now I still cling
To faded blossoms
Fresh from worn
Left chrushed and torn
Like the love affair I mourn
Some other spring
When twilight falls
Will the night bring
Another to me?
Not your kind
But let me find
Its not true that love is blind
Sunshines around me
But deep in my heart its cold as ice
Love, once youve found me
But can that story unfold twice?
Some other spring
Will my heart awake?
Stirring to sing
Loves magic music
Then forget the old duet
Love in some other spring?
Spring?
song performed by by Billie Holiday
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Left In The Lurch Smirch
Treason's plight:
bloom uncultivated,
polluted outright,
sentiments unsated.
Hurt heart stripped,
in mourning,
degraded, whipped,
unheeded warning.
Nothing allays
troubles great,
love faraway,
closed gate, cold grate.
Deep despair:
betrayal gave
salty grave
welcome where
none care.
Cleansing wave.
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Country Child
I’m country child, spurn town defiled, pollution makes me wild.
When Spring’s waft breeze soft tickles trees, from beaten tracks I keep,
with heart beguiled by creatures wild, through woodland dim and deep
my way make mid the forest hid with self am reconciled.
From city guil[e]d, souls’ stress, soles riled, I’ve strayed, at peace abide
with sun and shade on woodland glade, in valley, mountain steep,
delight each sense with joy intense, - a harvest rich to reap
from Spring which rings till Autumn brings its fruits by bushels piled.
I fly with bee from tree to tree’s bright blossom pink and white.
No cities know pure streams, dawn’s glow, air fresh and fragrant where
there is no smoke, where folk won’t yoke each other to despair.
Suburban spite, skyscrapers’ height, can’t quite convince as right.
Imagine plight of elf or sprite confined too tight! Maid, knight
stroll hand in hand through leafy land in freedom everywhere,
no asking why, nor spoke reply, we’d need, nor seek, nor care,
for spirit mild of open child soars through delight, finds flight.
Love’s love’s invite, both greet the light when dawn’s first flush is born
with badger, bird, with lowing herd, we’d sit and stare, take time,
no clocks absurd, no siren whirred, should compromise love’s rhyme,
so haste with me to taste joys free, no more to fee in pawn.
Lets brave the wind with hair unpinned, love at first sight ‘tis styled,
eyes seeking eyes flush fresh surprise through morning, noon and night.
As seasons flow all reasons go, know heights, no lows, excite
summations which together stitch two into one beguiled.
Nature’s Child
Oh, I’m a child of the country, spurning city defiled and grim,
my heart’s beguiled by creatures wild, and the woodlands deep and dim.
When the warm south winds fall, soothing, from the ferny forest’s feet,
come the nightingales’ songs each even, in madrigals mild and sweet.
For I am a child of the country, Spring orchards soften my sight
when the bees fly to the blossomed boughs, whose buds lie pink and white.
Then hand in hand in the sunlight stroll my soul’s betrothed and I,
nor need we words to question, nor words to heed reply.
Yes I am a child of the country, longing for lush fields at dawn,
where the air feels fresh and fragrant, when sun’s first faint flush is born,
then thrush appeals to starling: ‘Fie, forsake thy stealing way! ’
and the badger cubs, and the birds, and I, welcome the break of day!
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Brighter World
Insight grasps unhappy challenge passed
prepares for future fair where blossom spray
accompanies warm summer welcome, play
fresh heartfelt tunes to links which very fast
create fresh interfaces, leave aghast
old trials and tribulations. Interplay
anticipates enchanting gladsome way
to seek, to learn in manner multicast.
Much dust is swept away. Rich joys at last
may metamorphose cold troubles, homage pay
to true enchantment freeing kite from stay
that shatters. String locks fall away, outcast.
A brighter world, long waited, weak with strong
replaces, solace shows life knows no wrong.
(26 May 2012)
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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That's It That's All
Back on the scene for ya'll people's delight
You want peace for the people then ya say alright
'Cause George W's got nothing on me
We got to take the power from he
When I'm on the mic I feel good to go
Like a snow day for school with hot cocoa
So don't speak what I heard, just say what I know
And my zodiac sign is Scorpio
Look what the cat dragged in
The creme de la creme without the skin
So take a rest and mind your own biz
And that's it that's all that's all there is
Fresh...fresh...fresh...for you...for you...for you
That's fresh...fresh...fresh...for you...for you...for you
One for Brooklyn, two for Manhattan
Let's go to work, get those hands clappin'
Make you bounce, rock, roll and skate
Don't underrate how I operate
It ain't what you say, it's what you mean
Intention leads to action, that is my theme
So pay attention now as I begin to recap
Puttin' words and ideas stacked back to back
Some rhymes go flat, well mine go fizz
I got no time for the drama 'cause stress is for kids
'Cause when you're dead and buried well you got no biz
And that's it that's all that's all there is
Fresh...fresh...fresh...for you...for you...for you
That's fresh...fresh...fresh...for you...for you...for you
Brand new
The time and place for the mind is here and now
Keep the mind present less to worry about
But like the hammer to the nail hit the nail on the head
Well I don't shoot blanks and I don't shoot lead
Well I'm a freaky streaker like Winnie the Pooh
T-shirt and no pants and I dance the bugaloo
Like George Whipple on New York One
Got a hairy ass and that's no fun
I'm in the rhyme zone a different time zone
And on the microphone you know that I'm at home
It's time we looked past all our differences
An' that's it that's all that's all there is
Come on
Fresh...fresh...fresh...for you...for you...for you
That's fresh...fresh...fresh...for you...for you...for you
An' that's
Fresh...fresh...fresh...for you...for you...for you
That's fresh...fresh...fresh...for you...for you...for you
song performed by by Beastie Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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As If My Breath Is On Your Neck
Take your time to find my mind.
It is where it has always been.
Here.
With relevance,
You have yet to discover.
And when you do uncover this...
It will still be as fresh!
As fresh to you,
As if we are viewing the developments...
Unfolding.
And you find I can still hold onto your attention,
As if my breath is on your neck.
And yet...
Your dissecting of what has been left,
So long ago...
Remains with you,
Of current interest.
Interesting,
At best.
But not enough to leave me curious.
Take your time to find my mind.
It is where it has always been.
Here.
With relevance,
You have yet to discover.
And when you do...
It will still be as fresh!
As fresh to you,
As if we are viewing the developments...
Unfolding.
And you are holding on in a disbelief.
At my command.
Remember this...
You can not discover,
What another knew existed.
You may try to recover...
From the 'how' what you now know,
Had been already known!
Not only by me but many.
Before you came along...
To find your thoughts had been wrong!
And how I knew.
And you,
Had to pay a price...
To find this out.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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In spring and summer winds may blow
In spring and summer winds may blow,
And rains fall after, hard and fast;
The tender leaves, if beaten low,
Shine but the more for shower and blast
But when their fated hour arrives,
When reapers long have left the field,
When maidens rifle turn'd-up hives,
And their last juice fresh apples yield,
A leaf perhaps may still remain
Upon some solitary tree,
Spite of the wind and of the rain . . .
A thing you heed not if you see.
At last it falls. Who cares? Not one:
And yet no power on earth can ever
Replace the fallen leaf upon
Its spray, so easy to dissever.
If such be love, I dare not say.
Friendship is such, too well I know:
I have enjoyed my summer day;
'Tis past; my leaf now lies below.
poem by Walter Savage Landor
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The Love That Youve Been Looking For
Lonely, thats not how were meant to be
But looking in your eyes I see
A heart that was abandoned
By a world that used to show you love
You feel like youre the only one
Whose day begins without the sun
Youre left to turn and face it all alone
Well, I know sometimes it seems as if
Fate has done you wrong
But if you look inside your heart
Youll find the strength to carry on
Youve got to leave it all behind you
Break through those lonely chains that bind you
cause loves not far away, its gonna find your heart someday
And when you feel its warmth surround you
Youll realize that love has found you
So turn away your fears
cause the love that youve been looking for is here
Suddenly, your broken heart begins to see
A love that lasts eternally
Just look ahead and never ever let a single tear drop from your eye
It breaks my heart to see you cry
The pain that haunts you every night
Because of all the emptiness inside
Well, I know sometimes it seems as if your heart is caving in
But if we look inside the soul well find the love we have within
I know sometimes when things go wrong
You search for strength carry on
But all we need to take control
Is the love within my soul
cause you know that love will find a way
To reach your heart again someday
You must believe its true
Now all you have to do
Written by nick lachey
song performed by by 98 Degrees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Some Grievances
My heart beats so fast and does me inspire,
My patience has gone and now my calm desire,
Fate plays with me, and with chance comprise,
Of my emotions I see burning in the fire.
My thoughts are wounded and heart is full of pain,
A faithless mate has spoiled my brain,
Exchange of love, a broken heart I'd only gain,
Seeing any fairy, why my eyes begins to rain?
With this faithless world I have been fed up,
Why I always embrace false and shock,
I dream flying in the air a high up,
But find myself beneath destiny rock.
O time! Why thou snatched my golden past,
Where will was getting something vast,
And would forget what had been lost,
Ever I would be swift, spirited and more fast.
O era! Why are you pushing me so far behind?
And shining world's rolled me on the ground,
And badly influenced of my calm mind,
A faithful and true mate I've never found.
Why fortune is so graceful in palaces who born?
Or whose eyes open in golden walls or pelf,
But, why for poor it has only grief and scorn,
In this unlucky row I also find myself.
Flowers are pretty as they've good fragrance,
And sky is as high above as it is endless,
And ocean is so deep as it shores make distance,
But, why a childlike fairy is so beautiful as merciless.
(composed on February 12,2007)
poem by Mohammad Muzzammil
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Go On
It hurts me more when you decline
My offer for to join for dance and dine
'No' you can't join me as I have some one
He has entered life earlier and can be taken over by none
What I had to do then when she has opened secret?
I was in no mood to withstand jerk and fate
How can one remain honest and render justice?
Why to make love in air when there is no commitment or promise?
I heard her patiently and gave simply reply
I can go no further and make further try
It is her wish and must be respected
Her words can't be angrily reacted
She is making fool of her self
Sea may have precious jewels at shelf
But love is not like any other commodity
It can be had only from a person with super quality
'Leave me alone' was curt reply from my side
'No friends even' I took pain to tell her and confide
Horizon may be vast and very wide
My life and world were limited to hide
I am deeply hurt and visibly moved
She did not try fairly for it to be removed
It has made me to think fresh about future relation
There are fewer answers for more questions
I am sunk for the want of firm land
I have no one to call anybody as close friend
She was one with me and given good bye
I shall remain alone and resolved not to make fresh try
I want no analysis for delicate bond
One thing is sure that I was very much fond
I can't surrender to child's play
Let her go if she wishes to be away
I can't love treachery and hypocrisy any more
She has been told on face and therefore
I set her free to make choice of her own
I shall remain in this world and go on
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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A Dead Friend
I.
Gone, O gentle heart and true,
Friend of hopes foregone,
Hopes and hopeful days with you
Gone?
Days of old that shone
Saw what none shall see anew,
When we gazed thereon.
Soul as clear as sunlit dew,
Why so soon pass on,
Forth from all we loved and knew
Gone?
II.
Friend of many a season fled,
What may sorrow send
Toward thee now from lips that said
'Friend'?
Sighs and songs to blend
Praise with pain uncomforted
Though the praise ascend?
Darkness hides no dearer head:
Why should darkness end
Day so soon, O dear and dead
Friend?
III.
Dear in death, thou hast thy part
Yet in life, to cheer
Hearts that held thy gentle heart
Dear.
Time and chance may sear
Hope with grief, and death may part
Hand from hand's clasp here:
Memory, blind with tears that start,
Sees through every tear
All that made thee, as thou art,
Dear.
IV.
True and tender, single-souled,
What should memory do
Weeping o'er the trust we hold
True?
Known and loved of few,
But of these, though small their fold,
Loved how well were you!
Change, that makes of new things old,
Leaves one old thing new;
Love which promised truth, and told
True.
V.
Kind as heaven, while earth's control
Still had leave to bind
Thee, thy heart was toward man's whole
Kind.
Thee no shadows blind
Now: the change of hours that roll
Leaves thy sleep behind.
Love, that hears thy death-bell toll
Yet, may call to mind
Scarce a soul as thy sweet soul
Kind.
VI.
How should life, O friend, forget
Death, whose guest art thou?
Faith responds to love's regret,
How?
Still, for us that bow
Sorrowing, still, though life be set,
Shines thy bright mild brow.
Yea, though death and thou be met,
Love may find thee now
Still, albeit we know not yet
How.
VII.
Past as music fades, that shone
While its life might last;
As a song-bird's shadow flown
Past!
Death's reverberate blast
Now for music's lord has blown
Whom thy love held fast.
Dead thy king, and void his throne:
Yet for grief at last
Love makes music of his own
Past.
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Derelict
In younger days, of idleness grown sick,
On this low bank I saw, as in a dream,
The fingers of the leaning willows prick
Long dimples in the slow, reluctant stream.
Watching the pilgrim leaves forsake the stem,
Impatient of the dull familiar cove,
And idle down the tide, I longed like them,
Untrammelled, homeless, free of heart, to rove.
I mind me that of these I noted one
That at the bend a wayward eddy turned
And drifted back, its journey just begun,
The secret of the wider stream unlearned.
It seemed a poor reward for one so bold,
Checked at the start, and beaten back, to find
So stale a death. I did not know, of old,
What seemed so hard could be in truth so kind!
I little thought that on a larger stream
I, too, one day should drift away at will
Toward the distant reaches of my dream
From the safe shelter where I lived so still.
I little thought that I should one day grow
Weary of endless pictures filing past,
Of idle life and idler love, and so
Come gladly to some little cove at last.
Kind eddy that has caught me from the tide,
Of drifting weary, tempest-torn and tost,
To find, from the swift current turned aside,
The simpler things I thought that I had lost!
What have they brought me, all the wasted years,
The river’s turns that opened with a smile
And ended in the bitterness of tears?
Kind God! How little were they worth the while!
Yet, here and there, around the sudden bends,
The opening reaches held some sweet surprise:—
My arm has linked and lingered in a friend’s,
My eyes have seen love swim in lovely eyes!
I have kissed pleasure—walked alone with pain;
And, if to life I was apprentice made,
My years of toil have brought the toiler’s gain—
By life equipped, of life I know the trade!
I have made foes, and so can keep a friend;
Learned of a friend how gently foes may score;
Played fast and loose with love, and in the end
Lost it, and, losing, learned to love the more!
Seeking for gifts, I found ’t is joy to give,
Searching for truth, was taught to know a lie;
Pursuing death, I learned ’t is good to live,
In quest of life, I learned it safe to die!
What were it better that the past should be
Than like that leaf, turned helplessly aside,
That drifted back beneath its mother-tree,
And at its root to purer purpose died?
Another year yet other leaves there sprung,
Fed by the mould of which it formed a part,
That subtly heard, mayhap, that voiceless tongue
And laid its lesson silently to heart.
From soil of pride the plant of meekness grows,
From labor’s mine comes gold of sweet surcease;
By sorrow’s showers is fed contentment’s rose,
And passion’s vultures build the nest of peace:
So from past weakness future strength I gain,
As poise of knowledge to my doubt succeeds,
And faith’s fresh flower, that long I sought in vain,
Blooms on the rubbish of my mouldered creeds.
Now at the end I see that it was well
To drain the cup down to the bitter lees;
To foretaste heaven—thread the paths of hell,
Else empty words and meaningless were these:
Else might I stand, as once I stood outside
My fast-locked heart, its best and worst unknown,
Till life’s firm hand flung the barred portals wide
And led me in, a stranger, to my own!
poem by Guy Wetmore Carryl from The Garden of Years and Other Poems (1900)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Fresh Feeling
You dont have a clue,
What it is like
To be next to you.
Im here to tell you,
That it is good,
That it is true.
Chorus:
Birds singing a song,
Old pain is peeling,
This is that fresh
That fresh feeling.
Words cant be that strong,
My heart is real,
This is that fresh,
That fresh feeling.
Try, try to forget,
Whats in the past,
Tomorrow is here.
Love on the sky above,
Lie in your way,
Theres nothing to fear.
Chorus
Some people are good,
? ? ? the hood,
So pure and so free.
I make a safe bed,
Youre gonna get,
Whatever you need.
Chorus
That fresh feeling.
This is that fresh feeling.
song performed by by Eels
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Melting Pot in Melting Point: A Test Taste after Wanda Lea Brayton
Wing with me through sunrise sweet,
to shed cocoons and spread the sky
with wonder which the dark’s defeat
soon celebrates, to answer why,
puts fears at rest, - no wish deny.
Surprise, where eyes together meet,
melts walls, as none need quantify
new hope no cyclone gust could cheat.
Due cycle, spin, win trust, supply
true scope both Time and Tide defy
Soul in soul can thus complete
its mission~fission and ally
heart once apart from heart to greet
with fresh~baked bread and apple pie
from typhoons, twisters, home and dry.
May mind in mind forever share
discoveries as fresh breeze brings
new hope tonight, to melt despair,
pours joy on troubled waters, sings
horizons fair where no storm swings.
Ripples, small at first, spread where
hope’s atmosphere springs spry, hurt’s stings
are eased to forecast future fair
no need to feed on fear, pull strings
attached to taut strings tied to ‘things’:
Emotions, countless, count, repair
at last the past as fast light’s rings
can interact, new Act prepare,
each scene of which the changes rings,
unseen may stitch enheartenings.
Jingle gently, sweet refrain
of dance inscribed in Book of Fate
where heartache neither know again, -
seed Love none need to counterfeit
feed Love which will not dissipate.
Mingle gently, naught retain,
as aspirations shared translate
dreams into interplay on plane
above tides’ ebb and wane debate,
above all bonds of weight and wait.
Single goes against the grain.
To fuse, refusing solid state,
momentum, mustered, must maintain,
to sow, to grow, to flow, create,
enlightenment anticipate.
Reach me, teach me Life, my Dear,
fears, needs dissolved, cares melts away, -
with each in each, tears disappear,
in time, in rhyme, as interplay
emotions felt in tune may play.
Expand awareness, shed false fear
suppressed emotions melt, - life may
entertain a change of gear
which freedom fosters making hay
while shared sun shines, holds clouds at bay.
Open up as inner ear
taps harmony where once dismay
depressed, entrapped, each hemisphere,
where doubt within, without, would sway
impressions, blinkered insight clear...
© Jonathan Robin Parody written 1 September 2005 – after Wanda Lea Brayton – Romantic Rhyme
Romantic Rhyme
Sing to me of sweet sunrise
fresh~baked bread & apple pies
There is a sonnet in your eyes
my Heart melts, 'tis no surprise
Whisper soft the things you know
all the places that we will go
how your affection you'll always show
that you'll plant flowers all in a row
Murmur gently your sweet refrain
of how we'll dance wildly in the rain
that you'll never try to cause me pain
& that your Love you'll never feign
Speak to me of Life so dear
that I shall have no need to fear
& how you'll wipe away my tears,
for we shall share the passing years
31 August 2005 11: 55 p.m.
© Wanda Lea Brayton
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Time Has Told Me
Time has told me
Youre a rare rare find
A troubled cure
For a troubled mind.
And time has told me
Not to ask for more
Someday our ocean
Will find its shore.
So i'll leave the ways that are making me be
What I really dont want to be
Leave the ways that are making me love
What I really dont want to love.
Time has told me
You came with the dawn
A soul with no footprint
A rose with no thorn.
Your tears they tell me
Theres really no way
Of ending your troubles
With things you can say.
And time will tell you
To stay by my side
To keep on trying
til theres no more to hide.
So leave the ways that are making you be
What you really dont want to be
Leave the ways that are making you love
What you really dont want to love.
Time has told me
Youre a rare rare find
A troubled cure
For a troubled mind.
And time has told me
Not to ask for more
For some day our ocean
Will find its shore.
song performed by by Nick Drake
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Love Lost Broken Hearts
Love Lost Broken Hearts
Within the time love is lost
Thrown asunder into the
Wind
Left
Many broken hearts to live
In loneliness
Broken down piece by piece
Weaken just to mourn a love
That was once beautiful
But Now
Just tossed into the wind
Like the petals from the rose
Destined to ride upon the
Wind
Now used and broken
Just
Tears fills the wind
Sobbing echo's into the night
From the broken hearts
Tossed away like broken
Glass
Ancient and old as the lost
Love is trapped
Within time
Within the mind
Love that is lost from time
Back than
Weaken from the fight trying
To hold their lover heart
But
Cannot be regained
Cannot be mended
Spoiled without even a
'Sigh'
From her lover's heart
Just echo's of hurt and tears
From
The painful ruins of love tied
So strong
Being tossed to the wind as
Unwanted paper
Lonely eyes
Lonely hearts
Lonely tears
Just rides and echo's in the
Wind
Crying out for their love
That cannot be found
So desperately in need
To find their place in
The heart of the wind
That holds all their tears
Their fears
Their Pain
That bleeds into the heart
Of the wind
From The Love That Is Lost
And The Broken hearts..
poem by Carolyn Sears
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A peace offer
Nobody can offer you peace in mind
It is self contentment and nowhere can you find
It will come to you automatically
If you behave normally and very kindly
Peace can’t be had if we live under constant fear
Life can prove very cruel but everything you must bear
It may sometimes tear you apart and completely break down
You must take it lightly and never show any displeasure or frown
In this process nature is definitely with us all the way
You have to look around and little attention you must pay
Nature does not deviate from its course and behave normally
How can we act differently and behave abnormally?
Whenever you find that you are seized with lot of problems?
You must go to nature’s refuge and play the games
This may divert your attention and make you little comfortable
The problems can’t be solved by sitting merely on table
Keep mind fresh with brisk morning walk
Inhale fresh air and try to avoid any talk
It may generate fresh air to the tiny cells
Blood may rush in plenty in all vanes
Body too may feel relaxed and full of energy
It may then be converted like machinery
Body may work with full speed and cope
You may have no tension at all even when walk on rope
Cool breeze supplements to fresh air,
Give comforts and raises hair
Body relaxed to great extent and offers sound sleep,
Novel ideas pour in and you have insight to peep,
Can we not consider it as gift from nature?
Fresh impetus to mind with ideas to nurture,
Leaving behind past and thinking of bright of future,
Fresh opening of page of life with beautiful signature,
You should never loose heart or courage
It is nature’s gift or simple message,
New avenues are to open and generation new passage,
Bad memories to evaporate and feelings to assuage,
World doesn’t end with bad day,
Spring is almost there in month of May,
Never close door for future course,
Who knows ship may come at bay of course,
After all failures there is bunch of hopes
Achievements of great heights with steep slopes,
Even walking may be made easy on tight ropes,
Nature is providing key to secret codes,
Learn to live with all while moving eyes around,
New things to be observed always found
Fresh wind may blow and raising beautiful sound,
Fragrance may sweep over parallel to the ground
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lay It Away
We will lay our summer away, my friend,
So tenderly lay it away.
It was bright and sweet to the very end,
Like one long, golden day.
Nothing sweeter could come to me,
Nothing sweeter to you.
We will lay it away, and let it be,
Hid from the whole world’s view.
We will lay it away like a dear, dead thing –
Dead, yet for ever fair;
And the fresh green robes of a deathless spring,
Though dead, it shall alaways wear.
We will not hide it in grave or tomb,
But lay it away to sleep,
Guarded by beauty, and light, and bloom,
Wrapped in a slumber deep.
We were willing to let the summer go –
Willing to go our own ways;
But never on earth again I know
Will either find such days.
You are my friend, and it may seem strange,
But I would not see you again;
I would think of you, though all things change,
Just as I knew you then.
If we should go back to the olden place,
And the summer time went too,
It would be like looking a ghost in the face,
So much would be changed and new.
We cannot live it over again,
Not even a single day;
And as something sweet, and free from pain,
We had better let it away.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Ocean To Cynthia
But stay, my thoughts, make end, give fortune way ;
Harsh is the voice of woe and sorrow's sound ;
Complaints cure not, and tears do but allay
Griefs for a time, which after more abound.
To seek for moisture in the Arabian sand
Is but a loss of labor and of rest ;
The links which time did break of hearty bands
Words cannot knit, or wailings make anew.
Seek not the sun in clouds when it is set.
On highest mountains, where those cedars grew,
Against whose banks the troubled ocean beat,
And were the marks to find thy hopëd port,
Into a soil far off themselves remove ;
On Sestos' shore, Leander's late resort,
Hero hath left no lamp to guide her love.
Thou lookest for light in vain, and storms arise;
She sleeps thy death that erst thy danger sighed;
Strive then no more, bow down thy weary eyes,
Eyes which to all these woes thy heart have guided.
She is gone, she is lost, she is found, she is ever fair;
Sorrow draws weakly where love draws not too;
Woe's cries sound nothing, but only in love's ear.
Do then by dying what life cannot do.
Unfold thy flocks and leave them to the fields,
To feed on hills or dales, where likes them best,
Of what the summer or the springtime yields,
For love and time hath given thee leave to rest.
Thy heart which was their fold, now in decay
By often storms and winter's many blasts,
All torn and rent becomes misfortune's prey;
False hope, my shepherd's staff, now age hath brast.
My pipe, which love's own hand gave my desire
To sing her praises and my woe upon,
Despair hath often threatened to the fire,
As vain to keep now all the rest are gone.
Thus home I draw, as death's long night draws on;
Yet every foot, old thoughts turn back mine eyes;
Constraint me guides, as old age draws a stone
Against the hill, which over-weighty lies
For feeble arms or wasted strength to move:
My steps are backward, gazing on my loss,
My mind's affection and my soul's sole love,
Not mixed with fancy's chaff or fortune's dross.
To God I leave it, who first gave it me,
And I her gave, and she returned again,
As it was hers; so let His mercies be
Of my last comforts the essential mean.
But be it so or not, the effects are past;
Her love hath end; my woe must ever last.
poem by Sir Walter Raleigh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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