Colour cluster blooms:
Fresh crocus congregation
old Winter entombs.
haiku by Jonathan Robin
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Spring Flowers ~ Crocus
Crocus flowers daring tiny warriors
Fighting their way up through
The winter ice
Crocus darling early Spring harbingers
Promising days will soon
Be turning nice
Tiny Crocus flowers grow in close groups
Strength in numbers seeking
Where winter snows still may lie
Encircled encampment of floral troupes
“We march onward to spring”
They raise this brave battle cry
Bold strength contained in Crocus so small
Should winter challenge again
They simply refuse to die
Delicate blossoms possess such wherewithal
I cannot help but wonder then
Should not likewise you and I?
poem by Mary Havran
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Red;
Red is the colour of anger welling up inside me,
Red is believing and then having doubt,
Red is the colour of love and romance,
Red is the colour of the end of my nose on a cold winter day.
The colour of little red riding hoods coat,
Red is mars high up in the sky;
The colour that flushes my cheeks after playing sport and getting embarressed.
The colour of my sore sad eyes after crying.
Red is the colour of my warm blood flooding my veins,
Which shows Human Bondage,
Which shows the life within me,
Red is the colour of ambition burning my soul,
Red is the colour of the devil, which feeds me my power.
poem by karlia Ashlyn
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Go Tell The Congregation
Here I am
There I was
Here I go
Just follow me
If it was
Then it can
And we know
How it will be
When it was
Just because
Yes you know
Its not a dream
Its just all
Cmon yall
Ill tell you
What I mean
When you want to lose your blues
Go tell the congregation
When theres nothing left that you can do
Go tell the congregation
When you want to tell the truth
Go tell the congregation
When the devils got a hold of you
Go tell the congregation
Dont look back
Stay on track
Its a fact
A lesson to me
Keep in stride
With your pride
Now you know
How strong you can be
Theres no time
Draw a line
Yes I know
That you can know me
Look alive
No surprise
Everybody wants to be free
Everything is everything
song performed by by Black Crowes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sing out oh spring blooms
Crocus and daffodils dance
Midst forsythia
haiku by Dorothy Holmes (08 April 2008)
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The Crocus
I saw a purple crocus today,
Though it barely could be seen,
While all around was white,
And the landscape seemed to gleam.
I saw a purple crocus today,
The sky was bright and clear,
And yet I know it meant for me
That the spring season was near.
I saw a purple crocus today,
That protruded through the snow,
It triggered a moment of excitement,
And meant a lot for me to know.
poem by Joseph T. Renaldi
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Days Filled With Colour
Days fill with colour
As the dawn breaks on another day
Clear skys, not a cloud in the sky
Vibrant blue skys
Warmth fills the air from a winter sun
A gleaming shape floats by
Colours catch my eye
Parrots all the colours of a rainbow
Chatting all day about whatever
Maybe it is laughter
Happiness
Freedom in the winter skys
Parrots all the colours of a rainbow
Vibrant blue skys, fill my day
Colours of winter in the country
Hills filled with colour
Green hills soon to be colourful crops
Winter storms colour the hills with ice
Warm air from a winter sun
Colours your day
I see things differently now
No city skys filled with doom and gloom
No buildings cramped into one corner
Open spaces, trees, all filled with colour
Fill my day with happiness
Now I take the time to listen to nature
My heart is crammed with excitement
Everything now a new experience
Colourful parrots
Vibrant blue skys
The warmth of the sun
poem by Batibchar Mocculta
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Don't die this winter
Don't die this unfriendly winter and interrupt it
Unfriendly people should speak and go
It's a cold winter seasons are cousins
They visit one, at the time
Even the world is trembling
is in white dress
Smoke oozing from its mouth
Its cold dry winter
And all the seasons are on succession
It's a windy winter
Its hard to live
This winter is unusual
It freeze the pockets of the pocketers
Is a cloudy winter and sun is scarcity
We are all out for it
We all hunt it like hunters
And hunted like an animal
When we find it
We lean on the walls like lizards
Its winter of winters
All our cloths are on us and still freezing
It's a Monday of this winter
No one in school and everywhere else
Coldness blare our idea
No birds and animals out
It's freezing to death
Don't die this winter
If you die you might be buried with ice
And snore will be the congregation
Wind will be a choir
It's a winter of questions
If you die today
You will not receive attention you need
Peter will be on fire and other gatekeepers
No one will welcome you in heaven
When you go to hell
Devil will be unfriendly too
he doesn't like visitors on winter
he will ask you to light up your own fire
poem by Jacques Sprenkie Mateya
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Icicles splinter
before bright crocus sprout
through white world's winter.
haiku by Jonathan Robin (03 November 2008)
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Green and blue
Green and blue
First-named of colours believe these two.
They first of colours by men were seen
This grass colour, tree colour,
Sky colour, sea colour,
Magic-named, mystic-souled, blue and green.
Later came
Small subtle colours like tongues of flame,
Small jewel colours for treasure trove,
Not fruit colour, flower colour,
Cloud colour, shower colour,
But purple, amethyst, violet and mauve.
These remain,
Two broad fair colours for our larger gain
Stretched underfoot or spreading wide on high,
Green beech colour, vine colour,
Gum colour, pine colour,
Blue of the noonday and the moonlit sky.
poem by Lesbia Harford
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The Colour Yellow
Yellow is the colour
Of the smiles that you bring
Red is the colour
That makes you want to cringe
Blue is the colour
Of water and peace and hope
Green is the colour
That never ever mopes
Purple is the colour
Of grapes and different toys
But yellow is the colour
That I know can bring you joy
poem by Gwenevere Cornwell
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A Winter Message
A flake of snow in flurry thro’ the air
Had landed as a kiss upon my cheek:
A secret message, just for me to share;
To take to heart but never dare to speak
About or presuppose to other eyes
Your open feelings – distant though they are.
And so, upon your lips, my OWN surprise:
A flake of snow returned from me afar.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
winter winter winter winter icy winter
winter winter winter winter icy winter
winter winter winter winter icy winter
winter winter winter winter icy winter
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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A Blind Child's Plea
What is the colour of the wind, Daddy?
Said the child so small
What is the colour of the wind?
For i can't see it at all
It is the colour of freedom, my child
Said the man to his son
It is the colour of all
The specks of light in the rainbow
That is the colour of the wind
What else, Daddy? What else?
Begged the child
Explain to me more
For you can see what i can not
The sun
The sea
The Earth
And more
It is the colour of beauty
Of peace and light
It is the colour of love
And of day and of night
It feels so free
Said the child
With arms outstreached
I never would have guessed
The colour of the wind
It is the colour you want it to be
And it doesn't matter if you can't see
For the wind is your friend
And you alone
Know the colours of the wind.
poem by Lucy Westmacott
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A Poem Is A Cluster Bomb
A poem assemble ideas,
Concentrates experience
Await its time, place
For its own release
A Poem is a cluster bomb
A Poem explodes
Particle by particle
Projectile by projectile
Piece by piece,
Varying impact on the way
A poem is a cluster bomb
Out of a poem come wails
Out of a poem come hails
Out of a poem comes repair
Out of a poem comes despair
A Poem is a cluster bomb
It spreads in ripples
It travels like a storm
It is fashioned in riddles
It can pour painful scorn
A poem is a cluster bomb!
Friday,17th July,2009
Liverpool, UK
poem by Isaac Maliya
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My Coloring Book
(fred ebb / john kander)
For those who fancy colouring books
And lots of people do
Here's a new one for you
A most unusual colouring book
The kind you'll never see
Crayons ready?
Very well
Begin to colour me
These are the eyes that watched him as he walked away
Colour them grey
This is the heart that thought he would always be true
Colour it blue
These are the arms that held him and touched him
Lost him somehow
Colour them empty now
These are the beads i wore
Until she came between
Colour them green
This is the room that i sleep in and walk in
And weep in and hide in
That nobody, nobody's seen
Oh, colour it lonely, please
This is the man whose love i depended upon
Colour him gone
song performed by by Dusty Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Colouring Book
(fred ebb / john kander)
For those who fancy colouring books
And lots of people do
Heres a new one for you
A most unusual colouring book
The kind youll never see
Crayons ready?
Very well
Begin to colour me
These are the eyes that watched him as he walked away
Colour them grey
This is the heart that thought he would always be true
Colour it blue
These are the arms that held him and touched him
Lost him somehow
Colour them empty now
These are the beads I wore
Until she came between
Colour them green
This is the room that I sleep in and walk in
And weep in and hide in
That nobody, nobodys seen
Oh, colour it lonely, please
This is the man whose love I depended upon
Colour him gone
song performed by by Dusty Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Midwinter Spring
Cloudless sky big and blue,
pale yellow sun warms clear air.
Now comes a new day;
a new season begins,
where winter has been.
Where sorrow has been
a tiny huge shift toward healing,
toward hope.
A new season begins
where winter has been.
Fragile warmth touches chill soil,
tender shoots push toward the surface
seeking nourishing rays.
A new season begins
where winter has been.
A heart slowly opens in tentative inches,
pain still fresh and loud within;
blue sky reaches down.
A new season begins
where winter has been.
The chatter of baby birds
rises on fresh air,
touches the ear, turns the mind.
The heart hears a tiny huge voice consoling.
A new season begins
where winter has been.
(1/2009)
The abuse dies in a day, but the denial slays the life of the people, and entombs the hope of the race.
quote by Charles Bradlaugh
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The true colour of life is the colour of the body, the colour of the covered red, the implicit and not explicit red of the living heart and the pulses. It is the modest colour of the unpublished blood.
quote by Alice Meynell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poetry And Flowers
Lark and rose go mad, even with winter
coming on, the garden beneath the verandah blooms,
the park is dense with sun and soccer balls.
By lark I mean generic bird, God knows
the names for all these things with wings. Ditto
the rose: the garden drooling colour and bloom.
Lavender I recognise, and jasmine climbing
the concrete wall, and a real rose in the corner,
red as blood. I meant to say: birds and flowers
go ballistic, even with winter coming on.
Carrying on their own life. The earth drowns
in the blooming. Even when there is no wind there is
the solar wind, whipping our bodies from the depths of space.
Ferocities of trees bent double. Playing soccer,
nobody notices this. The far park flutters in mirage.
The jasmine is awash with butterflies.
poem by Luke Davies
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Almost
As I breathe in a still twilight.
Trees silently wait for the kiss of life.
The cold fading sunset is serenaded by the Winged choir.
Sending the unwritten song.
`Tis then my soul gently awakens
And that distant perfume captures my senses
To faintly declare,
It's almost spring.
A church bell rings and Sunday morning answers
At leisure.
A steeple is lit by a sleepy sun.
As an open sky greets the congregation.
A breeze gone, carries the tune
That God lays upon their hearts.
As the fields wait in background patience
To release their colour.
And as I inhale newborn wonder,
I exhale Winter's cold whispers with joy.
And when the huddled daffodils smile
Iknow it's almost spring.
poem by Kevin East
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