Ghost's Parade
Tower of bricks and dark arches shadow,
empty square - ghost's fair
Murmurs, of licking dogs,
chatting at the table floor,
The sunrise silence, at the wind blowing knitter,
at the crows, picking litters.
Shivering doors, keeping warm
chimney chug, roofs of broken tile's
perfume of musk in the air.
Fun fair screams of leaf's blow by wind.
Parade, of charioteers and reins
At the whinny of a forlorn carousel
Horse of trumpets, and ridden drums
poem by Luca Menin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Wind Horse
Da naho… It is said,
Wind Horse, gentle Wind horse, you were the last of your kind.
Wind Horse, Wind Horse, you were running wild and free.
Wind Horse, Wind Horse, with this freedom you did nothing but give;
When one called for help you carried them to safety,
No enemy did you have.
Da naho… It is said,
Wind Horse, Wind Horse, you gave your life one day
To a boy with no leg.
Wind Horse, Wind Horse, you gave him your endless love.
Wind Horse, Wind Horse, you now run in the Great Hunting Grounds;
Giving joy to those there, as you did here.
Da naho… It is said,
Wind Horse, Wind Horse, your life was not the last gift
You gave the People.
Wind Horse, Wind Horse, you prayed for us, you wished a wish for us.
Wind Horse, Wind Horse, we remember you through your brother Horse.
Wi: yo: h … It is good.
Wind Horse, Wind Horse, we see you still.
poem by Tolly Rebeka Christian BlackWolf Hawk
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Lonely Fallen Leaf
One fine morning
In the season of fall
The leaf pick up made its early round
And the trash was just picked
Sun was shining
The sky was blue
And the wind blew in occasional spurts…
The empty trash bin lay on its side
Rocking and rocking with every blow of the wind.
A lonely dry leaf flew by and landed on the ground
Inching forward and backward as the wind blew,
And the empty trash bin kept on rocking.
The world seemed to be in a dynamic equilibrium
With motion of all its elements synchronized.
I watched with curiosity
If the lonely leaf would be trapped in the bin
And make its way to the landfill mound!
With a final gust of wind
The leaf flew past the bin and away
The wind stopped and the bin lay still
And the leaf, I hope, will find a safe place and degrade
And contribute its share to the ecological parade.
poem by Tirupathi Chandrupatla
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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The Wind is Blowing
The wind is blowing,
Blowing slow and fast on my skin,
Blowing fast and hard on his skin.
The wind is cold tonight,
Blowing scary in the woods,
Blowing swiftly throw the night.
The wind is warm today,
Blowing hard in town,
Blowing soft in the county.
The wind is cool,
Blowing all the time,
As they say,
The wind is blowing!
poem by Angela M. Maynard
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Fair Silver Maiden
Oh my fair silver maiden
I see your eyes in the stars that light the dark,
Your hair in the swaying summer grass,
Your smile in the majestic sunrise
Oh my fair silver maiden
Your scent is always on the next wind
Your sweet, intoxicating scent.
Oh my fair silver maiden
Tell me where you are
So that I might find you
And my heart be complete.
Oh my fair silver maiden
How I long for you
How I cry for you
How I search for you.
Oh my fair silver maiden
Always beyond the next wind.
Tell me where you are
So that I might find you
And my heart be complete.
Oh my fair silver maiden.
poem by Cameron Bird
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Chug-a-lug
Here a mug, there a mug, everybody chug-a-lug
Here a mug, there a mug, everybody chug-a-lug
Gary likes a girls tight black pants
Larry knows he doesnt stand a chance
Carl says hurry up and order it quick
Dave gets out to chase that chick
Dennis wonders whats under the hood
A big chrome tach and it sounds real good
I go down to the root beer stand
And drink up all that I can
Give me some root beer (chug-a-lug chug-a-lug chug-a-lug)
Give me some root beer (chug-a-lug chug-a-lug chug-a-lug)
Give me some root beer (chug-a-lug chug-a-lug chug-a-lug)
Cold beer, root beer
Here a mug, there a mug, everybody chug-a-lug
Brians still glued to the radio
Louies lookin out the rear window
Guys got around to orderin fries
But root beers my best buy
Give me some root beer (chug-a-lug chug-a-lug chug-a-lug)
Give me some root beer (chug-a-lug chug-a-lug chug-a-lug)
Give me some root beer (chug-a-lug chug-a-lug chug-a-lug)
Cold beer, root beer
Here a mug, there a mug, everybody chug-a-lug
Give me some root beer (chug-a-lug chug-a-lug chug-a-lug)
Give me some root beer (chug-a-lug chug-a-lug chug-a-lug)
Give me some root beer (chug-a-lug chug-a-lug chug-a-lug)
Cold beer, root beer
Here a mug, there a mug, everybody chug-a-lug
Root beer, need another mug now
Root beer, chug-a-lug-a-lug now
Root beer, need another mug now
Root beer, chug-a-lug-a-lug now
Root beer, need another mug now
Root beer, chug-a-lug-a-lug now
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Me & My Horse
riding together,
you and your horse.
as you run against the wind all you call hear is-
the wind wipping your ears,
the horse's hooves thundering beneath you,
the chains of your bit as the horse pulls against the reins,
and the faint sound of the horse behind you.
your horse stops,
the horse behind you catches up.
the race is over,
freedom will have to wait until next time.
poem by Horse Lover
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Piper On The Hills
A CHILD'S SONG
There sits a piper on the hill
Who pipes the livelong day,
And when he pipes both loud and shrill,
The frightened people say
‘The wind, the wind is blowing up,
'Tis rising to a gale.’
The women hurry to the shore
To watch some distant sail.
The wind, the wind, the wind, the wind,
Is blowing to a gale.
But when he pipes all sweet and low,
The piper on the hill,
I hear the merry women go
With laughter, loud and shrill
‘The wind, the wind is coming south,
'Twill blow a gentle day.’
They gather on the meadow-land,
To toss the yellow hay.
The wind, the wind, the wind, the wind,
Is blowing south to-day.
And in the morn, when winter comes,
To keep the piper warm,
The little Angels shake their wings
To make a feather storm
‘The snow, the snow has come at last!’
The happy children call,
And ‘ring around’ they dance in glee,
And watch the snowflakes fall.
The wind, the wind, the wind, the wind,
Has spread a snowy pall.
But when at night the piper plays,
I have not any fear,
Because God's windows open wide
The pretty tune to hear;
And when each crowding spirit looks,
From its star window-pane,
A watching mother may behold
Her little child again.
The wind, the wind, the wind, the wind,
May blow her home again.
poem by Dora Sigerson Shorter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Like a leaf in the wind
Her soul flutters like a leaf in the wind
Clinging on to tree of life
With nothing more than hope
Devoid of pretense
Shorn of desires
Tossed about, at the whim of a gathering storm
Dark cold has slowed the sap
But deep inside, life fights to surge through
Longing for the next sunny day
When the sap will ease through fluid pathways
Until then, her soul flutters like a leaf in the wind
On a high branch she clings alone
While the other leaves huddle
Warm in their numbers
Sheltered in low branches
Wondering how she has lasted so long
While her soul flutters like a leaf in the wind
When the storm blows harder,
She sometimes feels close to giving up
And sinking quietly to the ground below
Returning to dust, from where she arose
But something in her refuses to let go
While her soul flutters like a leaf in the wind
So come wind, come storm,
Blow as you might
She will cling on to the tree of life
This lone leaf will fight.
poem by Anita Atina
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Seasons of Hope
I wonder if the wind will blow from the east,
When we rise in the Spring to a promising feast,
To welcome the buds as they gently unfold,
And my Rose of all flowers the queen.
I wonder if the wind will blow from the south,
With the heat of the sun like a furnace's mouth;
And the roses of June braving colours so bold,
In contrast with verdure green.
I wonder if the wind will blow from the west,
When Autumn is heralding Summer's bequest,
And the last rose of summer as in centuries old
Fades away, lacking lustre and sheen.
I wonder if the wind will blow from the north,
When the flurries of snowflakes come sallying forth;
And my loved one and I will bend to the cold,
Though inwardly warm and serene.
Let the wind blow its will, be it gale, be it light,
Let it blow itself out in the dark of the night;
Let the sky be dark azure or glorious gold,
There's no hope in a future foreseen.
poem by Pius Dapre
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What The Chimney Sang
Over the chimney the night-wind sang
And chanted a melody no one knew;
And the Woman stopped, as her babe she tossed,
And thought of the one she had long since lost,
And said, as her teardrops back she forced,
'I hate the wind in the chimney.'
Over the chimney the night-wind sang
And chanted a melody no one knew;
And the Children said, as they closer drew,
'`Tis some witch that is cleaving the black night through,
`Tis a fairy trumpet that just then blew,
And we fear the wind in the chimney.'
Over the chimney the night-wind sang
And chanted a melody no one knew;
And the Man, as he sat on his hearth below,
Said to himself, 'It will surely snow,
And fuel is dear and wages low,
And I`ll stop the leak in the chimney.'
Over the chimney the night-wind sang
And chanted a melody no one knew;
But the Poet listened and smiled, for he
Was Man and Woman and Child, all three,
And said, 'It is God`s own harmony,
This wind we hear in the chimney.'
poem by Francis Bret Harte
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Notes From the Village
Bleecker Street
just before
October dawn,
Winking
corner stoplight
flashing only red
to vacant Sunday
streets,
Old newspaper
Blowing,
unread,
down empty sidewalk
of hangover morning,
Gusts of New York
Puffing down sad alleys
Of broken amber glass,
Poor kitty,
Mad with fright,
Poor kitty,
Hidden from sight.
Hands in my pockets,
Coat collar high,
i bow into the
Callous autumn wind,
Past the frigid lights
And locked doors
Of last night’s
Cafes,
Yesterday’s
bookstalls,
Smells of impending
Rain waft through
Red brick
And hang like
Moldy rags
Above the lamp posts.
Facing the creaking
Branches of
Washington Square,
I see old friends’
Faces in
The yellow-orange
Leaves of fall,
Unseen,
Unknown,
I glide,
Wispy and ghost-like,
Sailing past an Atlantic
Sunrise,
& the rest of my
Brittle life.
poem by Terry L. Young
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hurricane
Written by dan peek, 1977
Found on harbor.
Sailin down the coast of mexico
With a person I loved since long ago
Into a place nobody wants to go
Into a hurricane
Whoa, hurricane
Somell be taken
Somell remain
Heard people screamin and the sky was torn
I looked around and the faces were so forlorn
No relief, only scorn
In a hurricane
In a hurricane
Somell be taken
Somell remain
Hurricanes just another name
For the torment in a mans soul
His mind is gone
And he starts to lose control
In a hurricane
Oh, the hurricane
Somell be taken
Somell remain
How long will the wind blow?
How long will the wind blow?
Everybody talks; nobody really knows
How long will the wind blow?
How long will the wind blow?
Shoo-ba-ree-ba, shoo-ba-ree-ba
Nobody knows
How long will the wind blow?
How long will the wind blow?
Everybody talks; nobody really knows
How long will the wind blow?
How long will the wind blow?
Shoo-ba-ree-ba, shoo-ba-ree-ba ...
song performed by by America
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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High Wind Blowin'
(ArmandChater)
There's such a high wind blowing and it's snowing in my bed.
Oh, baby, you started flowers growing where nothing grew instead.
I need something to hide the failure of my garden and the way it grew.
Oh, baby, I didn't know I could depend on you.
It's such a high wind blowing, I won't get to sleep tonight.
I think that warm wind feel's all right.
It's such a high wind blowing, I won't get to sleep at all.
I feel like I'm gonna fall into your fine, high wind.
You look like twilight falling on the ocean in the setting sun.
Oh, baby, do you know what you have done?
I feel like you have changed my mind about living the way I do.
Oh, baby, I didn't know I could depend on you.
It's such a high wind blowing, I won't get to sleep tonight.
I think that warm wind feel's all right.
It's such a high wind blowing, I won't get to sleep at all.
I feel like I'm gonna fall into your fine, high wind.
song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shadow
Shape of everything, made of black reflection.
Contrasted from the yellow sun on the bricks' wall.
Body without face, passage without a view.
Figure that you cannot interview.
Shadow, snitcher of light
Hide, from fences of eyes,
For reaper strong and weird.
From the tree blow by the wind,
The leafs fly, attached to the pavements' sky.
Mixing around, invisible outline.
Of a cone pointed shape of irregular shade.
And the smoke held by the tree hock.
Heat the warm floor, of spots & shoots.
Intoxicating the shadow, like through harrow.
Fading away on the windy shallow.
poem by Luca Menin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The House Of Dust: Part 01: 07: Midnight; bells toll, and along the cloud-high towers
Midnight; bells toll, and along the cloud-high towers
The golden lights go out . . .
The yellow windows darken, the shades are drawn,
In thousands of rooms we sleep, we await the dawn,
We lie face down, we dream,
We cry aloud with terror, half rise, or seem
To stare at the ceiling or walls . . .
Midnight . . . the last of shattering bell-notes falls.
A rush of silence whirls over the cloud-high towers,
A vortex of soundless hours.
'The bells have just struck twelve: I should be sleeping.
But I cannot delay any longer to write and tell you.
The woman is dead.
She died—you know the way. Just as we planned.
Smiling, with open sunlit eyes.
Smiling upon the outstretched fatal hand . . .'
He folds his letter, steps softly down the stairs.
The doors are closed and silent. A gas-jet flares.
His shadow disturbs a shadow of balustrades.
The door swings shut behind. Night roars above him.
Into the night he fades.
Wind; wind; wind; carving the walls;
Blowing the water that gleams in the street;
Blowing the rain, the sleet.
In the dark alley, an old tree cracks and falls,
Oak-boughs moan in the haunted air;
Lamps blow down with a crash and tinkle of glass . . .
Darkness whistles . . . Wild hours pass . . .
And those whom sleep eludes lie wide-eyed, hearing
Above their heads a goblin night go by;
Children are waked, and cry,
The young girl hears the roar in her sleep, and dreams
That her lover is caught in a burning tower,
She clutches the pillow, she gasps for breath, she screams . . .
And then by degrees her breath grows quiet and slow,
She dreams of an evening, long ago:
Of colored lanterns balancing under trees,
Some of them softly catching afire;
And beneath the lanterns a motionless face she sees,
Golden with lamplight, smiling, serene . . .
The leaves are a pale and glittering green,
The sound of horns blows over the trampled grass,
Shadows of dancers pass . . .
The face smiles closer to hers, she tries to lean
Backward, away, the eyes burn close and strange,
The face is beginning to change,—
It is her lover, she no longer desires to resist,
She is held and kissed.
She closes her eyes, and melts in a seethe of flame . . .
With a smoking ghost of shame . . .
Wind, wind, wind . . . Wind in an enormous brain
Blowing dark thoughts like fallen leaves . . .
The wind shrieks, the wind grieves;
It dashes the leaves on walls, it whirls then again;
And the enormous sleeper vaguely and stupidly dreams
And desires to stir, to resist a ghost of pain.
One, whom the city imprisoned because of his cunning,
Who dreamed for years in a tower,
Seizes this hour
Of tumult and wind. He files through the rusted bar,
Leans his face to the rain, laughs up at the night,
Slides down the knotted sheet, swings over the wall,
To fall to the street with a cat-like fall,
Slinks round a quavering rim of windy light,
And at last is gone,
Leaving his empty cell for the pallor of dawn . . .
The mother whose child was buried to-day
Turns her face to the window; her face is grey;
And all her body is cold with the coldness of rain.
He would have grown as easily as a tree,
He would have spread a pleasure of shade above her,
He would have been his father again . . .
His growth was ended by a freezing invisible shadow.
She lies, and does not move, and is stabbed by the rain.
Wind, wind, wind; we toss and dream;
We dream we are clouds and stars, blown in a stream:
Windows rattle above our beds;
We reach vague-gesturing hands, we lift our heads,
Hear sounds far off,—and dream, with quivering breath,
Our curious separate ways through life and death.
poem by Conrad Potter Aiken
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Blowing Hot and Cold
You blow like a hot wind through my heart,
Raising me up to feel full of life,
A wind that takes away my pain,
Leaves me feeling like a man,
Tomorrow you blow like a cold wind through my heart,
Doubt tears me apart,
A wind that leaves me in pain,
Wishing me down the drain,
Blowing hot and cold,
You can be too bold,
Slow down baby,
We can work it out, maybe,
So what is it you want from me?
Do you really just want to be free?
Maybe you just don't know how to grow,
Sometimes it's better to go with the flow!
While I wait for your wind to slow and warm,
All I want is for you to be safe from harm,
Sometimes I make you mad,
I don't want to see you so sad,
Blowing hot and cold,
You can be too bold,
Slow down baby,
We can work it out, maybe,
Live life to the full, good and grand,
When things are tough I will give you a hand,
Together we can go higher,
Love is our only desire!
23 May 2012
NYC
poem by David Andre' Klopper
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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November
There is wind where the rose was,
Cold rain where sweet grass was,
And clouds like sheep
Stream o'er the steep
Grey skies where the lark was.
Nought warm where your hand was,
Nought gold where your hair was,
But phantom, forlorn,
Beneath the thorn,
Your ghost where your face was.
Cold wind where your voice was,
Tears, tears where my heart was,
And ever with me,
Child, ever with me,
Silence where hope was.
poem by Walter de la Mare
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I'd Really Love To See You Tonight
Hello, yea it's been awhile
Not much, how 'bout you
I'm not sure why I called
I guess I really just wanted to talk to you
And I was thinking maybe later on
We could get together for awhile
It's been such a long time
And I really do miss your smile
I'm not talking 'bout moving in
And I don't want to change your life
But there's a warm wind blowing, the stars are out
And I really love to see you tonight
We could go walking through a windy park
Take a drive along the beach
Or stay at home and watch t.v.
You see it really doesn't matter much to me
I'm not talking 'bout moving in
And I don't want to change your life
But there's a warm wind blowing, the stars are out
And I really love to see you tonight
I won't ask for promise
So don't have to lie
We both play that game before
Say I love you to say goodbye
I'm not talking 'bout moving in
And I don't want to change your life
But there's a warm wind blowing, the stars are out
And I really love to see you tonight
Babe
I'm not talking 'bout moving in
And I don't want to change your life
But there's a warm wind blowing, the stars are out
And I really love to see you tonight
I'm not talking 'bout moving in
And I don't want to change your life
But there's a warm wind blowing, the stars are out
And I really love to see you
I'm not talking 'bout moving in
And I don't want to change your life
But there's a warm wind blowing, the stars are out
And I really love to see you
Tonight
song performed by by Barry Manilow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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