Flotsam
Crass rays streaming from the vestibules;
Cafes glittering like jeweled teeth;
High-flung signs
Blinking yellow phosphorescent eyes;
Girls in black
Circling monotonously
About the orange lights…
Nothing to guess at…
Save the darkness above
Crouching like a great cat.
In the dim-lit square,
Where dishevelled trees
Tustle with the wind—the wind like a scythe
Mowing their last leaves—
Arcs shimmering through a greenish haze—
Pale oval arcs
Like ailing virgins,
Each out of a halo circumscribed,
Pallidly staring…
Figures drift upon the benches
With no more rustle than a dropped leaf settling—
Slovenly figures like untied parcels,
And papers wrapped about their knees
Huddled one to the other,
Cringing to the wind—
The sided wind,
Leaving no breach untried…
So many and all so still…
The fountain slobbering its stone basin
Is louder than They—
Flotsam of the five oceans
Here on this raft of the world.
This old man's head
Has found a woman's shoulder.
The wind juggles with her shawl
That flaps about them like a sail,
And splashes her red faded hair
Over the salt stubble of his chin.
A light foam is on his lips,
As though dreams surged in him
Breaking and ebbing away…
And the bare boughs shuffle above him
And the twigs rattle like dice…
She—diffused like a broken beetle—
Sprawls without grace,
Her face gray as asphalt,
Her jaws sagging as on loosened hinges…
Shadows ply about her mouth—
Nimble shadows out of the jigging tree,
That dances above her its dance of dry bones.
II
A uniformed front,
Paunched;
A glance like a blow,
The swing of an arm,
Verved, vigorous;
Boot-heels clanking
In metallic rhythm;
The blows of a baton,
Quick, staccato…
—There is a rustling along the benches
As of dried leaves raked over…
And the old man lifts a shaking palsied hand,
Tucking the displaced paper about his knees.
Colder…
And a frost under foot,
Acid, corroding,
Eating through worn bootsoles.
Drab forms blur into greenish vapor.
Through boughs like cross-bones,
Pale arcs flare and shiver
Like lilies in a wind.
High over Broadway
A far-flung sign
Glitters in indigo darkness
And spurts again rhythmically,
Spraying great drops
Red as a hemorrhage.
poem by Lola Ridge
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
A Wind From... Elsewhere
The wind blows here... the wind blows there
The wind seems to blow from... everywhere.
But the wind I love... when it blows... blows fair...
This wind... when it blows... blows from... ELSEWHERE! Can you see its graceful fingers... playing in your hair?
Nay! You cannot see the wind... e'en though you know it's there.
It's flitting... it's flirting... it's prancing everywhere
This wind... when it blows... blows from... ELSEWHERE! It blows unexpectedly... with a gentle breeze... it blows...
The Great Hand of Miracles... brings it... then it goes
To greet the early morning sun... to dance to and fro
From the highest, loftiest mountain heights... to valleys... far below. 'Who is He that sitteth upon the circle of the earth...
Who gathereth the winds in his fists—Who maketh a wind to pass over...
Thou hearest the sound thereof...
But canst not tell whence it cometh... and wither it goeth.' The wind blows here... the wind blows there...
The wind seems to blow... from everywhere.
But the wind I love... when it blows... blows fair—
This wind... when it blows... blows from... ELSEWHERE!
poem by Elga Haymon White
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet: The Wind
What shakes the trees so violently? ’Tis Wind;
What moves the clouds hither/ thither? ’Tis Wind;
What takes the tornado around? ’Tis Wind;
What brings the sandstorm on the earth? ’Tis Wind.
What makes the cool and gentle breeze? ’Tis Wind
What makes the boughs and leaves to dance? ’Tis Wind;
What makes the autumn leaves to fall? ’Tis Wind;
What makes the honey-bees to fly? ’Tis Wind.
What makes pollen reach in showers? ’Tis Wind;
What makes the dust to climb towers? ’Tis Wind;
What spreads the perfume of flowers? ’Tis Wind;
What makes the rain-clouds advance far? ’Tis Wind.
What makes the Wind to blow? ’Tis God;
What makes a Tempest stop? ’ Tis our Lord.
7-18-2001
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When The Wind Blows
When the wind blows, many leaves will fall.
In my mind i see,
When the wind blows, many leaves will fall.
This is an emergency.
In a part of this once-great city
Stands a child crying out in pity.
Gone is hope in the heart of each hungry hour.
Every year in this land of plenty
There are millions of starving children
What will i say if they look my way?
This is an emergency.
When the wind blows, many leaves will fall.
In my mind i see,
When the wind blows, many leaves will fall.
This is an emergency.
Bow your heads to the lost generation
Scars so deep, bringing god's damnation.
Businessmen sip wine while congress argue.
But for grace we enjoy our pleasures
What we face will be our salvation
Go build your towns, but remember time will not forget
That this is an emergency.
When the wind blows, many leaves will fall.
When the wind blows, many leaves will fall.
This is an emergency.
Think of what the wise men said.
When the wind blows, many leaves will fall.
In my mind i see,
When the wind blows, many leaves will fall.
In my mind i see,
When the wind blows, many leaves will fall.
This is an emergency.
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Want a Wind
I want a wind
To start in the far-off mountain
To rush down in a raging fury
And fill this dull and silent valley.
I want a wind
To wrap around the gray tree trunks
To rattle the leaves and grass
To whistle by the window’s glass.
I want a wind
To make the pine trees clack together
To tangle the hair of the Barbie girls
To make the dust on the roads to swirl.
I want a wind
To take the litter on the sidewalk away
To blow the mist from the falls my way
To echo throughout this listless day.
I want a wind
To burst through the window and into here
To scatter the papers from their neat piles
To steal my breath and give me smile.
poem by Sophia White
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Working of the wind
Wind doesn't always topple trees
and shake houses to pieces.
Wind plays
all overwoods with weighty ghosts,
in swing in thousands
sinsing from ever branch.
Wind doesn't always rattle windows
and push, push at walls.
Wind whistles
down curl de sacs and wrorries,
dry leaves and newspappers to leap
and curl like kite tails.
Wind dosen't anways
dry out sweaty shirts and blouses.
Wind scattters
polllen dust of flowers, washes
people's and animal's faces
and combs out birs feathers.
Wind doesn't always whips up waves
in to white horses.
wind shakes up
tree shadows to dance on rivers,
to jig on grass, and hanging
latern lights to play signalman.
Wind doesn't always run wild
kicking tinny dustbin lids.
Wind makes
leafy limbs bow to red roses
and bob upand down outside windows
and make desk papers fly up in doors.
poem by Bethany Ford
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Summer's Wind
Be weary, Lord of the summer wind,
Lord of the heat that you blow in,
Away with flowers, land and trees,
To stay them not, least all the trees.
Listen to this, all that I say,
Our land does die, and drift away.
Our living born upon the wind,
All of ours, and those of friends.
So we called upon the leave-filled wind,
The autumn one, of which were friends.
This wind of cool and gentle hand,
Not like the wind that stole our land.
And the heat did melt into the leaves,
And turned them colors from the trees.
Then the leave-filled wind bore them away,
And upon the land, they came to stay.
And stayed them there, till land-hard cold,
And then the land, the leaves they stole.
And after the harsh cold wind had blown,
And living soil again was sown,
Summer's wind came again to prey,
Upon our lands, most every day.
But our living land, the leaves did save,
And the summer's wind did blow away,
Never to re-live, the seasons day.
The cool soft wind now blows so free,
Upon the land, and through the trees.
All through the people, and over me.
poem by Sandra Osborne
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The and My Wind
Swishy air on my face,
blows around,
turning the leaves,
carrying my cry,
for the world to hear,
I am near,
carry the seeds,
Oh wind!
make new trees,
Oh wind!
make the fruit of life,
Oh wind!
take me out of my strife,
Oh wind!
my wind!
my wind!
put us out of misery,
for we are creation too,
you hear me don't you,
don't torment us wind!
poem by Aamir Zain
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Wind Me Up
I've got something
That you ought to know
Don't even know
Whether to come or go
Up down
Head's spinning around
Wind up in
The lost and found
Wind me up, Wind me up
Wind me up, Wind me up
Wind me up, Wind me up
Tell me why
You make it so hard
All I ask is
Finish what you start
Wind me up, Wind me up
Wind me up, Wind me up
Wind me up, Wind me up
Wind me up that's
All you do
Wind me up and
Leave me blue
I'd like to see if
You could be
Kind enough to me
When you
Wind me up
Don't take me places
Then wanna go home
Sometimes, I think
I'm better off alone
Hey girl, you know
What you do
Color me red
Then leave me blue
song performed by by Extreme
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Color Of The Wind
The wind blows blue
when it misses you.
the wind blows red
when it knows your dead.
the wind blows green
when it it sees you being mean.
the wind blows white
when your about to take flight.
the wind blows black
whenever it knows your not coming back.
the wind blows pink
whenever your blood is ink.
the wind blows orange
whenever you cant rhyme with orange.
the wind blows yellow
whenever you cant be mellow.
if i am black
then why wont you ever come back?
if i am red
then shall i weep because your dead?
if i am blue
then should i miss you?
if i am green
then must you be very mean?
if i am yellow
then why wont you be mellow?
poem by Jasmine Appelhaus
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Things Clear Only to Me
The Wind swirls around me,
It swirls and shoots up a tree.
It rustles the leaves,
And over the Dryad weaves.
The wind I can see,
And things clear only to me!
Up a branch the Dryad prances,
And with the wind she dances!
Floating, the wind goes,
Up to the roof, and slows.
To the horse weathervane,
And there it ruffles his mane.
Then down I see him turn,
Not a horse, but flying unicorn!
The wind I run after,
To hear hearty laughter.
Behind the large rock I peek,
The laughing one to seek.
There a joke is read to a troll,
from a very old scroll.
I laugh too as I go,
Now the wind swoops low.
Down to the flowers small,
Where I hear tiny fairies call.
I cannot understand the sound,
Like me with grown-ups around.
Then I watch, and sigh,
As the wind lifts a dragon high.
Up there I cannot go,
Only feel the fire blow!
This is when I turn back,
The wind has gone slack.
I no longer see it swirl,
Or the other things in its' curl.
A blazing sun in the sky,
Is left from the dragon's fly.
On the flowers buzz bees,
No fairies below my knees.
I walk past the stone,
It and I are alone.
The horse up on the roof,
Makes no move, he's aloof.
The tree is empty and still,
The Dryad gone, gone until…
Until the wind comes again,
Swooping through this lane.
Then the wind I will see,
And things clear only to me!
poem by Elisabeth Hines
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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How The Leaves Are Blown By The Wind
did i not tell you that these leaves come from the trees?
no dispute about it
about them, they grow out from there, those twigs
of the trees of life,
they get their glow, their sheen, though they have given more honor
to the sun
rather than the roots and the phloem
the season for them to mature and fall has come
and they all wait for the wind, the great strong wind to blow them all away
to their respective destinies
some find their way to the river
some to the thick heap of other leaves destined to rot
and only if you hear them
they say they come from nowhere
not from the tree of life
not from me
the leaves, my poems, the wind my way of throwing,
the tree, myself, my roots my mind, my phloem my blood
i made them all, but now, they are on their own
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Soar With The Wind
What caused your hat to fall?
Alas, the wind started it all.
The wind can sometimes be deadly
But what happened to you really?
The wind blowing the leaves
The wind bothering the bees
But look at you, so nice and neat
What would you do with it?
Soar high like the wind
Aim high like the wind
But not too high or you will fall
I do not know if you can endure it all.
I want to ride with the wind
With you, dear, like a helpless weed.
Forever starts here with you
Like a fountain of water, kissing you.
Soar with the wind, be wild and free
Behold, just fly away and breathe.
The wind can sometimes be nice
But not too nice or you will die.
Enjoy its lasting peace
Sooner or later you will see
That it was just a reverie
Full of happiness and glee.
poem by Georgia Leana Benedictos
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Battle Of Fog Wind And Sun
It’s a mysterious morning in the wood as the fogs settled in
Fog dances with the wind through the trees twirling
A hazy white blanket diffusing scattering the light
Everything looks so different tricking your sight
The sun rays pours down breaking through the trees canopy
Linear streaks of light highlighting objects we see
Mysterious fog plays with the light as things it conceals
So when you are only near objects magically reappear
Strange shaped shadows jump out from the teasing mist
And twigs and objects appear that at first you did miss
The gloomy cold fog tries hard to hide the light of the new day
But the darkness and mystery it brings is not there to stay
The wind helps the sun to blow the mist from our sight
And wind sun versus the fog start their regular teasing fight
As normal the fog slowly loses, thins to a light haze in the air
Going patchy with little dancing wisps here and there
The light and the wind always it wins afterall
But the fog would just quickly disappear from us all
But look closely he left a present from his newly departed mist
On foliage are water jewel droplets where it gently kissed
In A Cold Wind
In a cold wind
in a night wind,
under a yellow street-light,
its paleness and the dark night.
Leaves blown past,
down the wind, cast
onto the silent roadway,
or in heaps, on the footway.
The houses that rise
into grey skies,
windows with drawn curtains,
facing onto pale gardens.
Slow in the sky,
the clouds moving by;
on the ground, the shadows blurred,
the whistling wind heard.
And the wind that blows
comes not, nor goes.
In this night, its sound
wraps all around.
Not here alone,
its long low drone,
along endless fences and hedges,
insidiously edges.
Now is the hour,
now is the closing of the flower,
an end to approaching and retreating,
to losing and defeating,
in a cold wind,
in a night wind,
on a corner of a cold street,
where all directions meet.
poem by Rory Hudson
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The Withering Of The Boughs
I CRIED when the moon was mutmuring to the birds:
'Let peewit call and curlew cry where they will,
I long for your merry and tender and pitiful words,
For the roads are unending, and there is no place to my mind.'
The honey-pale moon lay low on the sleepy hill,
And I fell asleep upon lonely Echtge of streams.
No boughs have withered because of the wintry wind;
The boughs have withered because I have told them my dreams.
I know of the leafy paths that the witches take
Who come with their crowns of pearl and their spindles of wool,
And their secret smile, out of the depths of the lake;
I know where a dim moon drifts, where the Danaan kind
Wind and unwind their dances when the light grows cool
On the island lawns, their feet where the pale foam gleams.
No boughs have withered because of the wintry wind;
The boughs have withered because I have told them my dreams.
I know of the sleepy country, where swans fly round
Coupled with golden chains, and sing as they fly.
A king and a queen are wandering there, and the sound
Has made them so happy and hopeless, so deaf and so blind
With wisdom, they wander till all the years have gone by;
I know, and the curlew and peewit on Echtge of streams.
No boughs have withered because of the wintry wind;
The boughs have withered because I have told them my dreams.
poem by William Butler Yeats
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The Winds Of Wyoming
Have you ever heard the wind
blowing across the plains?
Moving and stacking snow
in drifts across the lane
Have you heard the wind howling
like a wolf baying at the moon?
It's an eerie and unnerving feeling
making up its melodious tune
Have you ever watched the trees
bending to and fro in the wind?
Leaves blow off and scatter around
it's mother nature who has sinned
Have you heard the windows rattle
as the wind blows through the cracks?
The draft blows under each of the doors
it's coming in from the back
The wind is part of our landscape
and it's with us most everyday
But we love Wyoming wind that's true
it's ours and we're here to stay
poem by Louise Davis
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Winds that Whisper Hello
The clouds are high above,
Floating freely this way and that.
The wind is whispering through the trees,
Rustling the leaves to sing to me.
I feel the wind upon my face,
The voices landing upon my ears.
The gentle winds warm me
And suddenly changes to cool breezes.
Temperatures changes suddenly,
When the wind shifts unexpectedly.
To hear the wind is to know
That somehow, someway it is saying hello.
poem by Carolyn Marie Taylor
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Wind, Light, Leaves and Men
wind
leaves
they dance
with each other
they carress too
you hear the sound
of their love making
each time they meet
light joins in
to enrich the dance
and become one entity - laugh
louder than the sea
leaves - they are the dream of
wind and light comes true
wind, light, leaves
whenever they gather
men, animals join in their fun
take away one
and the world cries to an end
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Ride On The Wind... Forever...
I Want To Ride On The Wind… Forever
I Want To Ride Over Land and Sea
I Want To Ride on The Wind… Forever
… and I Want You Riding With Me…
I Want To Ride On The Wind Over Mountains
And Touch The Sky, So Blue
Then Raise Oceans, Like Sparkling Fountains
And Splash Through Water, Kissing You
I Want To Ride On The Wind… Hold Its Mane
Ride The Wind… Wild and Free
For The Wind – Will Never Be Tame…
So Hold On Tight and Just… Breathe…
… Ride The Wind – Let It Begin – Ride The Wind
Ride The Wind – Breathe It In – Ride The Wind
Ride The Wind – Blow Again – Ride The Wind
Ride The Wind – Raise The Wind – Ride The Wind!
I Want To Ride On The Wind – In The Moonlight
I Want To Ride On The Wind – In The Clouds
And Wave To The Wings of Eagles in Flight
… then Float like Snow – Dancing Down
I Want To Ride On The Wind Forever
I Want To Ride and Rush-Up Rainbow-Stairs
I Want To Ride On The Wind – Forever
For Your Sweet-Breath Beckons Me… Everywhere
… Ride The Wind – Let It Begin – Ride The Wind
Ride The Wind – Breathe It In – Ride The Wind
Ride The Wind – Blow Again – Ride The Wind
Ride The Wind – Raise The Wind – Ride The Wind!
poem by MoonBee Canady
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Sometimes Wind Moves In Secret
Sometimes wind moves in secret
Like a lover or a moon
Sometimes a board will answer
Or a shutter or a loon
Sometimes wind answers itself
Like a woman at the mirror
And sometimes no one's present
Or unwilling to hear
Wind moans over graveyards
As if weeping for the dead
Wind howls at the windows
Like it wants you, in your bed
Wind steals kites of children
Without making any sound
And wind tears off your head scarf
But lifts hair, like a crown
Wind sighs round a lighthouse
Like a sailor blown off course
Wind whispers in the rigging
Like a breeze has lost its voice
Wind dies in the harbor
When the moon is sailing high
But wind sings before morning
When the twilight blush is nigh
poem by Patti Masterman
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