Self-Abandonment
I sat srinking and did not notice the dusk,
Till falling petals filled the folds of my dress.
Drunken I rose and walked to the moonlit stream;
The birds were gone, and men also few.
Li T'ai-po
tr. Waley
Related quotes
Amusing Myself
Facing my wine, I did not see the dusk,
Falling blossoms have filled the folds of my clothes.
Drunk, I rise and approach the moon in the stream,
Birds are far off, people too are few.
Rose Petals
Rose petals are so soft to touch,
rose petalsfragrance is so divine to smell,
rose petals are like lovely lips which smile,
rose petals are given to lady love,
rose petals are spread on bed of newly bride,
rose petals are life of butterflies,
rose petals are used for beauty baths,
rpse petals are offered on the lotus feet of god,
rose petals are placed on grave of dear ones,
rose petals are offered in river ganga for departed soul,
rose petals are showered on newly weds,
rose petals are decorated on festive days,
roses are given as a promise for everlasting love.
poem by renu Vig sharma sharma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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San Antonio Rose
This song appears on two albums, and was first released on the spirit album, and has also been released on the changes album.
Deep within my heart lies a melody
A song of old san antone
Where in dreams I live with a memory
Beneath the stars all alone
It was there I found beside the alamo
Enchantment strange as the blue up above
A moonlit pass that only she would know
Still hears my broken song of love
Moon in all your splendour
Hear only my heart
Call back my rose, rose of san antone
Lips so sweet and tender
Like petals falling apart
Speak once again of my love, my own
Broken song, empty words I know
Still live in my heart
For the moonlit pass by the alamo
And rose, my rose of san antone
Words and music by bob wills
song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wine
Drinking, I sit,
Lost to Night,
Keep falling petals
From the ground:
Get up to follow
The stream’s white moon,
No sign of birds,
The humans gone.
My Special Red Rose
My Special Red Rose
My special red rose so full of life just blossoming with
lovely red petals
Always looking so beautiful and radiant in the morning sun
And now yet again another red petal has falling from my
beautiful rose
but the petals that remain are very dear to me because they are still part of my lovely red rose.
Yet today my special red rose doesn't blossom quite as full but I still look at it every day in the morning light
For the lovely red petals that are still on my special
red rose
bring so much joy and happiness to my hearts delight
poem by Joseph Skelley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Rose Petal
A Rose Petal
By: Artistic Perspective
September 15,2009
Age 12
A Rose Petal quickly falls off its rose.
I see that it's falling quickly, but in my mind I see it slowly.
What's pleasant about a piece of itself ripping, tearing away?
The only pleasant thought about it, is it will grow a new rose.
I watch the petal fall and plummet.
Until it hits the ground.
Rose petals, Rose petals, are all around.
Why must they fall off?
The rose is now unwhole.
Hopefully, it will come back,
Restore the rose's soul.
poem by Poem hunters
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Rose Petal
A Rose Petal
By: Artistic Perspective
September 15,2009
Age 12
A Rose Petal quickly falls off its rose.
I see that it's falling quickly, but in my mind I see it slowly.
What's pleasant about a piece of itself ripping, tearing away?
The only pleasant thought about it, is it will grow a new rose.
I watch the petal fall and plummet.
Until it hits the ground.
Rose petals, Rose petals, are all around.
Why must they fall off?
The rose is now unwhole.
Hopefully, it will come back,
Restore the rose's soul.
poem by Artistic Perspective
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rose’s rose rose
Rose’s rose rose
In the light of the day
While the wind blows
Round its flowers of the lightest rosé.
Rose’s rose rose
In a way Rose may
When she grows
As her rose
Shows
How it grows
And by the end of the day
When her rose’s flowers’d close
And its head would sway
In the wind, Rose would say:
“My rose, as you rose
In the light of the day
Did you notice those,
The sounds of your stay?
Not only those of the day,
But, too, the ones of the dark, rose,
The ones of the dark and the moon in its pose.
Did you notice those, rose?
Did you notice those? ”
And the rose would know
What Rose would want to say
And it would sleep
With its flowers of the lightest rosé.
Petals of a Red Rose
A Red rose is a harmonious flower,
Symbolising love, passion and devotion.
As many numbered red roses are,
There only needs to be one to say it all.
When you hand someone a red rose,
You tell them that you love them.
A red rose cannot be itself,
What truely makes them so important,
Is not the colour or the number of them,
But the petals itself.
The petals hold everything in place,
Encouraging the flower to be more graceful,
Giving hope and love,
To what we would normally think is plain.
A red rose is such an intricate design,
Just like us, your daughters,
We are your red rose,
We are capable of living on our own,
But like a red rose we need that one special bit,
To encourage us, believe in us and love us,
Which is why we say,
You are the petals of the red rose.
poem by Music Galore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I've Come to Notice More Now
I've come to notice more now,
The falling snow.
I've come to notice more now,
A certain purpose...
I had disavowed.
I've come to notice more now,
The core of my being with more meaning.
A joy I can express...
With less emphasis on things collected.
And a happiness I always had,
But somehow did not allow.
I've come to notice more now,
I can.
I've come to notice more now,
I will!
I've come to notice more now,
My needs are basically fulfilled.
Without desire to seek approval,
Sought to identify my peace of mind!
I've come to notice more now,
Thoughts like that I have left behind.
And notice, I do...
My blessings!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Alankar(Decor) -36
Making Of A Rose(Triolet)
Just making of a rose a Rose
Cuts and folds plastic or paper
Then paints with all pink rouged a Rose
Just making of a rose a Rose
Blooms, scents, charms rosy Rose her rose
Thorns and scissors-they don't differ
Just making of a rose a Rose
Cuts and folds plastic or paper
poem by Indira Renganathan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The sun and I
On a moonlit night
There was no light.
By the meadow the sun lay.
He sat on the grass and spent his past, grazing on hay.
I walked up the slope in the the fifth avenue and lay by the stream
By then on the meadow the sun was into play.
I sat down and began to talk to the sun.
We lectured on and on about how to have fun.
When I was closing my eyes an amazing thing happened.
The sun rose up we wished each other farewell and he left.
Up in the sky by and by I think....
just maybe every time I passed by the sun he will just wink.
poem by Tapira Ashburton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Rose Will Fade
You were always a dreamer, Rose - red Rose,
As you swung on your perfumed spray,
Swinging, and all the world was true,
Swaying, what did it trouble you?
A rose will fade in a day.
Why did you smile to his face, red Rose,
As he whistled across your way?
And all the world went mad for you,
All the world it knelt to woo.
A rose will bloom in a day.
I gather your petals, Rose - red Rose,
The petals he threw away.
And all the world derided you;
Ah! the world, how well it knew
A rose will fade in a day!
poem by Dora Sigerson Shorter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bruised
Oval, red
falling through space,
edges turned
beauty spurned.
Falling again, flashes of red
pure blissful dread.
Cut, tampered, distorted
rolling into a whirling mass
of red.
Lifeless, homeless
almost dry,
the petals of a rose flower
A red rose flower
that in their struggle
for survival were
bruised.....
poem by Morning Dew
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Unforgiving Love
one day a blue bird fell in love with a white rose..the rose was envious of everybod falling in love and was afraid that she will get hurt..the blue bird told her that he had loved her from afar but was too scared to tell the white rose how much he actaully did...the white rose told the bird when my petals turn from white to red i will fall in love with you back....the blue bird came by and by everyday and told the white rose how much he loved her...until one day the blue bird cut his wings and soaked the white rose with his blood...the white rose's petals turned from white to a luscious red and she realized how much the blue bird loved her..but it was too late the blue bird fell in front of the rose and the rose was red forever..that's why roses are giving to the ones we loved
poem by Ariff Khan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Yellow Rose
She came in my dreams last night,
She left a yellow rose and a love note on pillow next to me,
As always the inscription read,
'we are friends for ever and in the eternity'.
Since a rose is a rose,
why the red rose shines in the glory of love?
why the white roses remind us of our departed souls?
and why the yellow rose shines the rays of friendship in all of us?
Like sunshine bursting through grey clouds,
The aura of friendship emanates from its golden petals,
The frozen dew drops on its soft satin petals,
glorifies tears on my cheeks in the times of sadness,
Its mere presence and the fragrance,
fills my heart with the scent of warmth and affection.
Yellow rose you are perfection in creation,
I wonder why you have to wither away in time,
With every falling petal, a heart is broken,
with every withered yellow rose, a token of eternal friendship is lost.
poem by Jay P Narain
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When The Flowers Bloom
when the flowers bloom
do not wait
till they wilt
their petals falling
on your feet
do not take much of the time
witnessing such death
for at the end
of this cycle
when all the petals have fallen
and what is left to see is just an empty sepal
and a very lonely stalk
you shall be reminded of your own
you shall be next, the season waits
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When, You Became A Reality
'When, you became a reality... to me
Not†the falling petals of a dying rose.
The enchanted melting's of recent snow.
Not a tale of long ago!
'When, you became a reality to me.
A prince, a prince, but oh, oh,
Not so long ago!
My shimmering beauty
That kept me awake...
And held me to sleep
My prince you!
Had the power to make me weak?
To tremble night jitters inside
Till no longer I could be denied
Or pretend to be chic.
There are times, timeless
You put the night too music
A linguistic beat
I feel in my hearts beat
Like Lady Guinevere, my Lancelot
Your chivalry is my defeat
When times, timeless
Become the falling petals of a dying rose
I'll endlessly love you.
Not like the enchanted
Melting's of recent snow
Not like a tale of long ago...
But a moment of love so heavenly,
Not so long ago.
----
In collaboration a song written with my daughters help.
Aislinn Heathcote
poem by Mark Heathcote
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Coppies
I sit and I hear them,
I see them,
But they sound the same,
They look the same.
I sit and I think about them,
Coppies of the same person,
All the same walk,
Same look,
They're all naive, all ignorant bastards!
I sit and I notice everything,
I notice the sounds,
And I notice the birds,
I notice the screaming of the city,
I notice the blindness of THEM.
I sit and wonder,
When will they see themselves,
In the mirror of the other's faces,
When will they tear eachother into pieces,
When will they remove their fake masks? !
I sit and I see the world,
I see it for what it is,
A great black pit,
Filled with people,
Who are filled with shit!
Oh, when will the great castrophony end,
Mm, when it does the sky's shall cry,
The mountains shall erupt with inevitable anger,
When this happens there will be fire! And then...
Nothing.
I sit and I wait,
For that fire to consume the Earth,
I wait for individuality to explode,
I wait for this firery Hell to engulf their minds,
I wait for their sameness to become different!
I sit and writhe in my own skin,
My heart screaming,
I can't live as one of them,
I shall not live that way,
I would rather slit my own damn throat!
I sit and I crawl in my skin,
As if the agony of America were my own,
And still they remain the same,
I scream, I cut, I rip at their minds,
And they remain the same!
poem by Bethany Maxwell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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0004 Lyric 3: Rosefall
O, what is the song this late, late rose is singing?
where will its petals fall, pale orange-yellow rose?
when shall the breeze and the rose cease laughing, dancing,
when will the raindrops bring time, and loss, and tears?
who wrote the song that the rose is singing, singing,
who painted petals on this fleeting rose?
when did the breeze discover dancing, dancing,
with roses that fade and fall in loss and time and tears?
after the rosefall, a colder breeze is blowing,
rose petals lie in drifts upon the ground;
but the breeze remembers, wintering red rose-hips, sowing
the rose’s spring and singing; remembering rose’s sound..
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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