Polish Flowers
A box with paints from childhood's time:
The colors of town are earth and grime.
An old worker at a dark doorway squats,
The spuds in his bowl are powdery dry.
It's a face of yellowish and gray spots
In the midst of hunger, cold, dirt and slime.
poem by Julian Tuwim
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Childhood Memories Sung to the Tune of Shawnee West Franklin Bison Blues
Some people have a childhood garden
Filled with green and growing things
Some people have a childhood garden
Filled with purple peonies
Mine is sere
Throughout the year
Nothing grows here
Some people have a childhood rainbow
A sea of colors all aglow
Some people have a childhood rainbow
Red to violet in a row
Mine is gray
Bow of clay
Without a ray
Some people have a childhood temple
Covered with a million treasured dreams
Some people have a childhood temple
A sunny Wat of Gods and kings
Mine is plain
Squats in the rain
Functional 'n sane
Where childhood memories abound
Life flows vividly around
Where childhood memories have fled
Hearts lie dead
Nature Paints
Nature Paints
Nature paints the sky in blue,
Then adds the fluffy spots of white
Which sometimes hide the fuel
Of fiery sphere - light
A relief that gives a gracious smile
Nature paints the high mountains green
An emerald of an incline climb
Extending stairway to heavenly dreams,
The peak is in a target's reach
Our nature paints the dark stained soil
A symbol for our hard day's toil
What in its core does treasure hides?
Seek the rainbow you will find
All colors that our artist binds
Copyright © 2012
poem by Godfrey Morris
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An Artist
An artist paints with brush so old
Makes his painting worth gold
He paints the nature's gifted gifts
The flowing rivers in the midst
Of all he paints is a pretty face
A girl dressed all in lace
Portraying her beauty he is lost in time
The beauty she possessed is hard to find
Was it her beauty he tried to captivate?
But what a pity time doesn't wait
For she has gone so far away
Leaving her image with the artist to stay
Who paints her all through day and night?
Seeking pleasure deep inside
poem by Meena Mustafa
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A Picture Of Colors
A picture of colors
A purple forest of colors
A balloon of colors
A blue fantasy of colors
This is what our planet should be
A whirlwind of colors
A white world of colors
A resting place of colors
A red hideaway of colors
This is what it should look like
A ‘yes' world of colors
A yellow rainbow of colors
A graced hill of colors
A green meadow of colors
An overflowing basket of colors
An orange bowl of colors
This would be a perfect place
GS [or the Fourth Cook]
He has notions of Australia from the tales that he’s been told—
Land of leggings and revolvers, land of savages and gold;
So he begs old shirts, and someone patches up his worn-out duds.
He is shipped as ‘general servant,’ scrubbing pots and peeling spuds
(In the steamer’s grimy alley, hating man and peeling spuds).
There is little time to comfort, there is little time to cry—
He will come back with a fortune—‘We’ll be happy by-and-by!’
Scarcely time to kiss his sweetheart, barely time to change his duds,
Ere they want him at the galley, and they set him peeling spuds
(With a butcher’s knife, a bucket, and, say, half a ton of spuds).
And he peels ’em hard to Plymouth, peels ’em fast to drown his grief,
Peels ’em while his stomach sickens on the road to Teneriffe;
Peels ’em while the donkey rattles, peels ’em while the engine thuds,
By the time they touch at Cape Town he’s a don at peeling spuds
(And he finds some time for dreaming as he gets on with the spuds).
In the steamer’s slushy alley, where the souls of men are dead,
And the adjectives are crimson if the substances are red,
He’s perhaps a college black-sheep, and, maybe, of ancient blood—
Ah! his devil grips him sometimes as he reaches for a spud
(And he jerks his head and sadly gouges dry-rot from a spud).
And his brave heart hopes and sickens as the weary days go round;
There is lots o’ time for blue-lights ere they reach King George’s Sound.
But he gets his best suit ready—two white shirts and three bone studs!
He will face the new world bravely when he’s finished with the spuds
(And next week, perhaps, he’ll gladly take a job at peeling spuds).
There were heroes in Australia went exploring long ago;
There are heroes in Australia that the world shall never know;
And the men we use for heroes in the land of droughts and floods
Often win their way to Sydney scrubbing pots and peeling spuds
(Plucky beggars! brave, poor devils! gouging dry-rot from their spuds).
poem by Henry Lawson
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Mouths To Feed...
the wind called...
and i went walking,
down hard edged streets,
past the abandoned and forsaken...
through dirt and filth,
grime, grease, and soot.
down past the edge of town...
i made camp by the tracks.
haunted by the sounds
of living now just echoes,
echoes and shadows,
shadows almost forgotten.
haunted by the faces,
the dreams, the fires now ash...
the smell of need and
the harsh stench of hunger.
i made a leanto from yesterday's boards,
built a small fire, hunched
against the cold and the howl.
into a small pot all that was left,
and waited for the Guest to arrive.
day became sunset, sunset night.
the darkness wrapped with murky doubt.
then, from behind the clouds,
one star shone through...
and i knew the time,
i knew the answer...
no time for sleep, no sleep for dreams,
i spent the night making ready.
and stood to face the dawn,
with nothing left to hide,
and nothing left to cling to!
a new day, perhaps my last,
one day to make a life.
i turned back towards the town,
and went in search of...
mouths to feed, tears to wipe away!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Down In The Dark
down in the dark where i live
i can feel the earth squirm squishingly around me
down in the dark where i live
there is slime on the stone floor and it's cold between my toes
in my slide, slide slide down into this place
down in the dark where i live
no one cares if there is mud on my face
down in the dark where i live
i am all alone, i like that way, it's peaceful
just me and my old bones
down in the dark where i live
there is much to eat, i hope you like slugs and snails and snakes
my spice rack is complete
i have a fire and i have a pot
and if you want to curl right up
we'll eat and snuggle by my fire
down in the dark where i live
it's safe and cozy
you are always welcome here
poem by Bonnie Cote
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Dark Cold Sound
A dark cold sound...
A dark cold sound tears the life I'm given
Ignite the vision
The vision that brought cold wind against my childhood soul.
The root of unspoken fear
The root grows deep in my heart
A dark cold sound tears at my life
Over and over...
The time when rest is as distant as childhood
When I knew peace
The time when I was happy
The time when I knew peace
Before it came after me
It's coming after me
A dark cold sound
song performed by by Zao from Liberate Te Ex Inferis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Voice & The Snake
(curly m.c./f.gregorian)
.
The first bowl on the earth
The second bowl on the sea
The third bowl on the rivers
The fourth bowl on the sun
The fifth bowl on the beast
The sixth bowl on the stars
The seventh bowl on the air
.
And the earth turned grey
Sea turned black
The rivers turned red
The sun turned cold
The beast turned pale
The stars turned fast
The air turned to poison
song performed by by Enigma
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Voice The Snake
(curly m.c./f.gregorian)
.
The first bowl on the earth
The second bowl on the sea
The third bowl on the rivers
The fourth bowl on the sun
The fifth bowl on the beast
The sixth bowl on the stars
The seventh bowl on the air
.
And the earth turned grey
Sea turned black
The rivers turned red
The sun turned cold
The beast turned pale
The stars turned fast
The air turned to poison
song performed by by Enigma
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Child That I Am
Blue, Red and Yellow
Are primary colors.
The colors of childhood;
The colors of children.
I am soft and innocent and childlike-
Trying hard to be childlike;
Trying to be vulnerable again;
Unaffected, Unassuming.
There is a quiet, serious look in my face;
An ache in my heart.
I am alone in my sorrow,
Driven by fear
To be childlike, expressive,
Truthful and wise;
To recapture the essence of living;
Of playing in childhood dreams;
Aware of the wonders of nature;
Sensitive to Flowers and things;
Passive in my joy;
Beautiful in my art-
The art of recreating childhood.
(January 9,1991)
poem by Carole Moran
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Sneakers
I am left at the empty doorway
Shabby, muddy, unclean
My faded colors mutely say
Where, all this time, have you been?
The rains have made me wet
How loyal I have been
Asked how could you forget
Together times we've seen?
I saw all that commotion
As they took your body away
I heard the crying, then Silence
As Death closed the end of that day.
Who now would care to wear me?
Wash all this grime with soap
Gone are the hands I long to see
Gone is my master and my hope.
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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I'm sublime chime rhyme,
climb from and to nothingness,
prime-time grime, slime diem
haiku by Jonathan Robin (10 April 2005)
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Earth Safe
Death paints darkness at noon
Earth not feared of death
Death paints darkness at noon
Sun shines sky so bright
Death paints darkness at noon
unkind eyes dark so blind
Volcanoes erupt, whirl winds kill
Towers collapse thousands peril
Terrors kill, humans destroy
Death paints darkness at noon
Earth not feared of death
Rivers flow, Oceans flow
Nature green, universe calm
Earth safe, safer than ever....
September 4,2008
poem by Rema Prasanaa
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Courbe Bête ou Courbette?
I'm
sublime
chime
rhyme
climb
Prim e
Time
dime
grime
slime
13 April 2005 robi3_1200_robi3_0000 QWX_DJZ
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Two People Living On This Earth
There are two people living on this earth but,
We don't really see them most of the time;
There are supernatural beings and human beings,
And with the best and the worst of life among us too!
The ugly and the beautiful,
The slow and the fast,
The male and the female,
The conscience and the unlearned,
The bold and the coward,
The circumcised and the uncircumcised,
The wise and the fool,
The positive and the negative,
The black and the white,
For these are the Creator's images on this earth.
Two people indeed are in the midst of things,
And like the dead and the living;
But to fail or to pass an exam depends on you.
Your faith may lead you on like your hopes and dreams,
With people who love you and those who hate you;
But the noise of the air is like the surface of the sea,
And like the mystic of life's own rules.
To be near or to be afar off,
And like a hard worker and a lazy worker;
But a boy or a girl who comes after birth to continue the ceation is like,
An incumbent and the opposition of a government seat!
Two identies indeed in the status of mankind,
Normal and the enlargement of things to think about;
For the selfish and the selfless are compacted together,
With many troubles to seek for peace at last!
Two identities on this earth,
And like the White House and the Black Stone in distance apart!
But the dark and the light will bring in reality,
And like the up and down of one's life on this earth.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Hot Night In A Cold Town
Sonnys out strolling, ambling slowly
Washed in amber street lights
A mexican wind blows in
Takin ahold of angelinas hair
And her halo
Motors running, muffling the sound
Of the street talk
A big deals goin down
In another hot night
In a cold town
Got yourself a hot night
In a cold town
Johnnys got spare change
In his pocket
A ring and a watch
To hock for a sweet ride
A one way ticket
Hidden in his shoe
These last few hours
He says hell spend with you
Hes leavin home without a trace
No forwarding address
Hell never have to face another
Hot night
In a cold town
Got yourself a hot night
In a cold town
Well, the losers and the groovers
And the corner boys
Are hangin around
Runnin in and out of doorways
Up and down the stairways
Stray dogs headed for the pound
In another
Hot night in a cold town
Got you, got yourself a
Hot night in a cold, cold town
Cold town
Its just another hot night
In a cold town
Such a cold town
song performed by by Uriah Heep
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Country Red Dirt Road
Down that red dirt road
Off to the side I see
Cattle gracing in herds
Staring sweetly at me
Yes, the red dirt takes us
Past old farmyard barns
Farmers standing ‘round
Spinning red dirt yarns
Daisies waving by the side
Of the red dirt road so fresh
Brilliant colors perfectly
Blend in with all the rest
More cows by the fence
Watch as I go by
Driving a red dirt road
Sure does make time fly!
poem by Marilyn Lott
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Painter’s Agony
I want to paint that river
And the scene behind it
The boat and the boatmen
I know everything about
That river
My association with the river
Many a hundred memories
Evenings and sunshines
Floods and slow water
I have lived my life
On the bank of that river
I want to paint
Paint it with the most beautiful colors
I want to borrow some colors
From the colors of paradise
And I love the town
That lives beside the river
Old and dusty
Where shall I take you
In that small town
Every nook and corner
Shall tell you that it knows me
I want to paint that town
In colors of heaven
I want to carry a few children
And take them on a tour
I want to see the town with their eyes
And then go to the riverbank
And meditate for a while
Drink the wine of nature
And get lost into the world of beauty
And flow with the river
Enter every house
My heart throbs in harmony
With every heart in the town
Give me colors divine
Colors from the other world
For I want to paint
That river and that town
(This poem is about a small town on the bank of river Indus)
poem by Sadiqullah Khan
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Sugar And Honey
Can't stand myself and messed-up thoughts that are crossing my mind
I'm going crazy but i know that to myself i can't lie
Outrageous as a storm in autumn I'm fighting the way
It's gonna be so hard but i'll be ok
Tomorrow I'll be gone and far away
This town will never see my face again
As if i were searching for the light in dark cold night
Tomorrow 'i'll be gone and far away
You will never see my face again
Sugar and honey
Keep those words for someone else
Accelerate my car and feel how the speed is carrying me
Like thousand raindrops on the windscreen i'm wandering right now
I'm breaking rules,denying feelings,foolin'around
You could have stopped me then but you didn't care
Tomorrow i'll be gone and far away
This town will never see my face again
As if i were searching for the light in dark cold night
Tomorrow i'll be gone and far away
You will never see my face again
Sugar and honey
Keep those words for someone else
song performed by by Vanilla Ninja
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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