November rain! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
Cast a glance at the heap of crumpled wet face tissues.
No, no I had not finally succumbed to swine flu.
At last, gave myself permission to have a good cry.
But when the sobs died and eyes were swollen and dry,
Suddenly there was an unseasonal November rain.
Nature made its presence felt through the windowpane.
Just as dead leaves fall in autumn from the tree.
I had let go off my past to make way for spring.
One came aboard the breeze to land at my cold feet.
I picked it up and pressed it in newspaper sheets.
It symbolised my past, which though buried still lived.
One day I’ll be able to look at it without twinge.
Why beat myself with a stick, have paid my dues.
The fog had lifted and the sky was clear blue.
Not to blame it on flawed human state or ask why.
Have embarked on a journey to find who am I…
poem by Mamta Agarwal
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Related quotes
The Crocodile
The crock
The small lake in the vale is muddy brown and
I see what looks like an uprooted tree floating
in the middle, the tree disappears and the water
ripples like it suddenly feels cold. There has
been rumours about sheep disappearing when
grazing near the lake but since there is a good
road nearby, rustlers have been blamed; mind,
dogs too have vanished and no self-respecting
thieve can possible be interested in our motley
canines. The breeze that made the water ripple
has died out and in sharp spring sunlight I can
see the tree again, but it seems to be lower in
the water. The lake gets smaller and browner
every year less rain falls now then in the past,
a few years hence it will be a piece of dry land
and a dusty crocodile.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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The Reptile
The Reptile
The small lake in the vale is muddy brown and
I see what looks like an uprooted tree floating
in the middle, the tree disappears and the water
ripples like it suddenly feels cold. There has
been rumours about sheep disappearing when
grazing near the lake but since there is a good
road nearby, rustlers have been blamed; mind,
dogs too have vanished and no self-respecting
thieve can possible be interested in our motley
canines. The breeze that made the water ripple
has died out and in sharp spring sunlight I can
see the tree again, but it seems to be lower in
the water. The lake gets smaller and browner
every year less rain falls now then in the past,
a few years hence it will be a piece of dry land,
with, perhaps, a crocodile skeleton on.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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I Have Seen Autumn
I have never felt the chill of winter
Nor the birth of spring
Only the two faces of Nature
The golden sun shining
Or the heavens openly weeping.
But I have seen autumn
As I looked at her
No cold winter in her smile
A promise of summer in her eyes
Her hair of autumn leaves.
I have never felt autumn
But I have seen it
It’s the canvass of Rembrandt
Dark, red, crimson, gold
But I have never felt it.
Is the autumn breeze damp and soft like her lips?
Is the autumn sky naked and warm like her skin?
But I have never kissed her lips nor touched her skin
I have only seen autumn
But I have never felt it.
poem by Shogunoka Ledesma III
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Somebody Out There
Who cares what I'm gonna do
Without you, without you
Who cares if I blow a few
Without you, without you
I go run after dark
I know you heard it all before
I'm doing fine without you
On my own
What do you expect of me
You used to run, used to be
Got my own life without you
(Now I know)
I've made it through
I paid my dues
There's somebody out there
And black and blue
And so confused
There's somebody out there
And so a few are born to lose
Getting me nowhere
I've made it through
I paid my dues
There's somebody out there
Who cares what you're gonna be
You're without me, you're without me
Who cares if you're coming clean?
You're without me, you're without me
You go run after dark
I think I heard it all before
I'm doing fine without you
(On my own)
What am I supposed to say
I'm used to all the games you play
I'm doing all right without you
(Now I know)
I've made it through
I paid my dues
There's somebody out there
And black and blue
And so confused
There's somebody out there
And all of you are born to lose
Getting me nowhere
I've made it through
I paid my dues
There's somebody out there
It's been weighing on my mind
And taking up my day
Then I opened up my eyes
Nothing left to say
I wanna take the time to find
Can you help me on my way
So if you push me down in time
I've made it through
I paid my dues
There's somebody out there
And black and blue
And so confused
There's somebody out there
And all of you are born to lose
Getting me nowhere
I've made it through
I paid my dues
There's somebody out there
There's somebody out there
There's somebody out there
song performed by by Holly Valance
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A view of spring turning into summer (hybridanelle)
From the time that the first sunlight hit me
I was surrounded by heat like a cocoon
and I saw the clear blue sky and felt free
while the early morning breeze
kissed my cheek
with an early morning freeze
and there were clouds escaping from my mouth that I could see
evaporating like steam or gas from a balloon.
From the time that the first sun light hit me
some dust tickling my nose made me sneeze
and glorious bright rays
kissed my cheek,
buds opened on every plant and tree,
ants marched to and fro like in a platoon
and I saw the clear blue sky and felt free
and I was experiencing days
of spring leading into summer
and glorious bright rays
and nature’s decree
summoning new seasons, made me feel like a tycoon
from the time that the first sunlight hit me
and the wind like a drummer
sweeping through sand, leaves and branches whistling its song
of spring leading into summer
and you my love, had to agree
that an awesome summer would be here soon
and I saw the clear blue sky and felt free
as if this freaky wind was blowing me along,
turned part of me into nature and I saw it
sweeping through sand, leaves and branches whistling its song
and even you were in its spell and we
were both smitten with summer and spring that afternoon.
From the time that the first sunlight hit me
and I saw the clear blue sky and felt free
it was like standing on a high summit
while the early morning breeze,
turned part of me into nature and I saw it
with an early morning freeze.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Leaves (a song of exile)
Leaves fall across the pathways
Like a steady blowing rain
On the old ranch houses and new MacHouses
And it's cold in Connecticut, once again
I hear it's cold in England too
I am less than American, after all
I don't drive & scream for the Yankees
I remember how leaves of Autumn fall
I'll never learn all these written rules
Of shaven lawns and cleared debris
As if there were something innately flawed
In designs of nature, the heart of me.
poem by Frank Bana
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The heart of a tree
With branches reaching out as if for a embrace
The tree may bow to nature with grace.
He stands alone when the wind blows strong.
The leaves may fall, but the tree stands tall.
There are some things that the eyes can't see.
Like the heart of a tree.
In winter's cold chill, You can see the tree stand still.
Leaves are gone but the tree stands strong.
Until winter turns into spring and the birds begin to sing.
The leaves may fall, but the tree stands tall.
There are some things that the eyes can't see.
Like the heart of a tree.
Through storms and the wind. Bowing with a graceful bend,
Until the sun shines again, still standing at the end,
The tree is like a true friend.
The leaves may fall, but the tree stands tall.
There are some things that the eye can't see,
Like the heart of a tree.
The old Tree's secrets
How many lovers sat together under the old tree?
If only the tree could speak.
The stories would be of weary travelers
finding a place of peace, and dreams in their sleep.
Stolen moments of lovers, perhaps a sweet caress.
A young man with a ring, a young girl said yes.
Tree I only imagine, I enjoy the guess.
Gentle breezes that lifted the leaves
to let them gently fall to earth.
Misting rain to meet the tree's thirst,
Perhaps two trees inter-twined are
Two lovers that were curst.
poem by Judy Arline Puckett
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The Fallen Leaves
I.
WE stand among the fallen leaves,
Young children at our play,
And laugh to see the yellow things
Go rustling on their way:
Right merrily we hunt them down,
The autumn winds and we,
Nor pause to gaze where snow-drifts lie,
Or sunbeams gild the tree:
With dancing feet we leap along
Where wither'd boughs are strown;
Nor past nor future checks our song--
The present is our own.
II.
We stand among the fallen leaves
In youth's enchanted spring--
When Hope (who wearies at the last)
First spreads her eagle wing.
We tread with steps of conscious strength
Beneath the leafless trees,
And the colour kindles on our cheek
As blows the winter breeze;
While, gazing towards the cold grey sky,
Clouded with snow and rain,
We wish the old year all past by,
And the young spring come again.
III.
We stand among the fallen leaves
In manhood's haughty prime--
When first our pausing hearts begin
To love 'the olden time;'
And, as we gaze, we sigh to think
How many a year hath pass'd
Since 'neath those cold and faded trees
Our footsteps wander'd last;
And old companions--now perchance
Estranged, forgot, or dead--
Come round us, as those autumn leaves
Are crush'd beneath our tread.
IV.
We stand among the fallen leaves
In our own autumn day--
And, tott'ring on with feeble steps,
Pursue our cheerless way.
We look not back--too long ago
Hath all we loved been lost;
Nor forward--for we may not live
To see our new hope cross'd:
But on we go--the sun's faint beam
A feeble warmth imparts--
Childhood without its joy returns--
The present fills our hearts!
poem by Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton
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I Stood With the Dead
I Stood with the Dead, so forsaken and still:
When dawn was grey I stood with the Dead.
And my slow heart said, 'You must kill, you must kill:
'Soldier, soldier, morning is red'.
On the shapes of the slain in their crumpled disgrace
I stared for a while through the thin cold rain...
'O lad that I loved, there is rain on your face,
'And your eyes are blurred and sick like the plain.'
I stood with the Dead ... They were dead; they were dead;
My heart and my head beat a march of dismay:
And gusts of the wind came dulled by the guns.
'Fall in!' I shouted; 'Fall in for your pay!'
poem by Siegfried Sassoon
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Seasons
I
As if summer will never end
irises are everywhere in the garden
with opening flower after flower
in light yellow, deep purple and rust-brown.
The bright hot sun hangs day after day
in a cobalt blue sky and even carnations, geraniums
and flame lilies are showing their beauty,
are still holding onto summer.
Doves are still cooing in the oak tree,
their are finches and sparrows cavorting up and down
and it’s as if nature is thwarting autumn
while dew is still shining on the leaves in the mornings
until later the sky becomes dull blue
while the sun is getting much more faint.
II
Slowly the leaves are falling
descending in different colours,
in one’s and two’s and later in a bigger number
tree-trunks become dark brown, red and some pallid
until every tree but for those that are evergreen stand skeleton,
the birds that remain sit next to each other shivering,
wishing for the winter to past
having difficulty to find seeds and other food
and the cold winter wind blows through everything,
filling the air with whirling dust clouds
with stripped branches flinging up and down
and everywhere leaves and branches lie in a jumble
until the wind dies down and the morning fog hangs like vapour,
at times only at noon is dispersed by the sun.
III
Days are cold and grey while the sun hides,
with a owl hunting during the day
searching for hungry mice sneaking around in the yellow grass
and all other signs of animal life is missing
but for doves sitting here and there
on telephone wires,
in disconsolation staring into the distance
and early mornings the grass is covered with white ripe
and it is as if every flower succumbs,
is shrinking crumpled and are folding close
until the first spring rain comes suddenly,
with sprouts and buds appearing and new flowers folding open
when fruit trees are covered with white, pink and yellow blossoms
and the sudden beauty takes your breath away.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Mad The Swine (b-side Of Headlong)
I've been there before
A long time ago
But this time I wear no sandals
Ages past I gave all you people
Food and water
Three feet tall, so very small
I'm no trouble
I bring thunder, lightening
Sun and the rain
For all the people in the land
A message of love
I bring you from above
All you children gather around
Come join your hands and sing along
They call me mad the swine
I guess I'm mad the swine
I've come to save you
Save you
Mad the swine
Mad the swine
So all you people gather around
Hold out your hands and praise the lord
I walk upon the water
Just as before
I help the meek and the mild
The believers and the blind
And all the creatures great and small
Let me take you to the river
Without a fall
Then one day you'll realise
You're all the same within his eyes
That's all I've got to say
Just like before
They call me mad the swine
Mad the swine
Come to save you
Save you
Mad the swine
Mad the swine
So all you people gather around
Hold out your hands and praise the lord
All you people around
Hold out your hands and praise the lord
Don't ever fail me
Mad the swine
Mad the swine
I've come to save you
Save you
Mad the swine
Mad the swine
All you people gather around
Hold out your hands and praise the lord
Hands and praise the lord
Praise the lord
song performed by by Queen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A journey of a Thousand Miles
a foot that lift high can be the first step that reach the
highest pick of the sky, as the eyes move in every
distance that may cause envy the sweet tasteless
journey of the past, who have come into the most
amazing fruit of today's compassion of knowing the
path in the season of spring
the menu of life experience, solidify in the harmony
of time, and the wall of the present entangle; the
cab wave of the past, you may not found the answer
in a melting snow, nor the falling rain to cleanse
your swollen face, the wounded flesh mark the
beginning of what life should be lived
as the truth, venture the birth of reason, one has to
open the call to face of what are clouds above each
knee, follow always the stream that flows and the
river that goes in the vast sea and ocean of what is
reality, for in every foot become a step towards the
gate of maturity the isle of every dream, hull the
journey of success
it is a thousand miles everyone wants to reach, stay
to refresh and humble for the path is slippery and full
of challenge to fulfill, making it lousy and smart make
your way to a beautiful morning at the end of each
journey, everybody will say thank you, this walk is for
me
let the feet step and the breathe easy and a thousand
steps journey for miles to see........
poem by Antonio Liao
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On The Top Of A Mountain
Diss your issues that you've got with me.
I'm not about them!
Stop and dropp 'em.
Diss your issues that you've got with me.
Hey hey,
I'm not about them!
Stop and dropp 'em.
You say you've paid,
Dues you want to send my way.
I'm not about them!
Stop and dropp 'em.
You say you gave,
Others time you gave away.
I don't doubt it.
I'm not about it.
You say pain stays...
Riding on your back each day.
I don't doubt it.
I'm not about it.
You seem so afraid,
To let go and just walk away.
Then you want to blame me,
Because I'm not frustrated?
Diss your issues that you've got with me.
Hey hey,
I'm not about them!
Stop and dropp 'em.
Diss your issues that you've got with me.
Hey hey,
I'm not about them!
Stop and dropp 'em.
You say you've paid,
Dues you want to send my way.
I'm not about them!
Stop and dropp 'em.
You've got to learn to make pebbles from a rock!
Keep'a chippin' at those boulders...
'Til you find,
You've climbed to the top...
Of a mountain!
Diss your issues that you've got with me.
Hey hey,
I'm not about them!
Stop and dropp 'em.
You say you've paid,
Dues you want to send my way.
I'm not about them!
Stop and dropp 'em.
You say you gave,
Others time you gave away.
I don't doubt it.
I'm not about it.
You've got to learn to make pebbles from a rock!
Keep'a chippin' at those boulders,
'Til you find...
You've made up your mind,
You can reach and plant your feet...
On the top of a mountain!
You can choose to look down and around...
But you can choose to move everyday,
Without delay,
From all of your nonsense!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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We Blame Love
It couldnt be clearer
Ill apologise right now
In spectacular language
I think youll understand somehow
If I need to reach you
Weve got to walk a path where loves forgotten
(love) diamond skin and clear blue eyes that never see
(love) every past needs broken time
Remind me how it used to be
(we blame love) heart is beating, mind is thinking
Bodys moving
(we blame love) dont say another thing
Its dangerous its deadly just like...
The secret is out
Beyond belief eternally
Naked and recognised
You see Im just a boy who cant say...
(love) is the purest energy
In my philosophy
(love) every past needs broken time
Remind me how it used to be
(we blame love) fascination, strange attraction
Chain reaction
(we blame love) for we are wild for truth
Its dangerous its deadly just like...
Its just a clever trick
I know, bewitching me
But seeing you clouds my eyes
And if it rains then let it rain on me
(love) diamond skin and clear blue eyes that never see
(love) every past needs broken time
Remind me how it used to be
(we blame love) heart is beating, mind is thinking
Bodys moving
(we blame love) I havent seen your face today
Its dangerous its deadly just like...
(we blame love) fascination, strange attraction
Chain reaction
(we blame love) for we are wild for truth
Its dangerous its deadly just like...
Love
The saving of your life
A million times a second
The father of invention
Remind me how it used to be
(we blame love) fascination, strange attraction
Chain reaction
(we blame love) oh let it rain on me
Its dangerous its deadly just like...
Shes a real space slipper in an
Atomic graveyard shes got
Personal radar she is
Face to face electronically with
Me. Im a living specimen
A single wing of a broken bird cries
Love
Were safe here in the past
Dont say another thing
I cant just pretend
The memory has left me
Your cold hand warm against my skin
A misinterpretation of tears
A freaky kind of nature
The worlds gone mad - and I have
song performed by by Heaven 17
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Today is autumn, winter and summer
Today is autumn, winter
and summer
pressed into one day.
The wind tosses leaves
all over the lawn
and brushes against
the windows with it.
Big raindrops fall
from a grey sky
and the cold
grabs at the thin
summer clothes
and the earth
oozes water
of day after day out.
Suddenly the sun
shines again and it gets hotter
and still hotter
while the blue comes through
as if nature cannot really decide
what season it is.
Both cats are out
as if on patrol
after the rain,
combing the grass
for insects
and then climbing trees
trying to hunt
in search of prey.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fall, Magnificient Fall
Oh to simply read you-Garrison-
Conjures up masterpieces in my minds eye-
Divine 'tis the Maple Tree (more so even now)
Unbridled passion, flows throughout the Autumns sky;
Oh, the colours that you write of, Garrison-
Golden Yellows to the Blazing Reds...
And of course, Falls Dance of Romance-
And the truth of the masterpieces-oft' ignored, once you're dead;
You touch upon the reality of it all-Garrison-
Not listening, as we ignore bad advise-given from the Maple tree...
And when the rain comes pouring and the wind blows gales-
In the end, what we really have is a heap of rotting leaves! ;
So say you of what it is like in St. Paul, Garrison?
Our own mortality, it cannot be put on pause...
For we are as fragile and forgettable as the maple tree-
Fighting our petty battles but for what noble cause? ? ?
You state basicically that we are born and then we die-
Can you imagine the obituarys of the great poets of the past?
Dying so young- -as Shelley and Keats-
We might feel a twinge reading it- but it would not last! ? !
Fall, oh your magnificient Fall- - Garrison...
Remembering the young romantic poets of their time-
Writing at their very best at 25, 28, 29, and 31...
Dying soon after completing their very best rhymes;
Oh how i love to read you, Garrison...
So brave-not allowing a little stroke-get you down-
A Prairie Home Companion and 77 Love Sonnets-are a must...
Were you aware that you're creating a Legacy that will indeed live on?
***************************************** ***********************************
It is with great admiration and esteem that i dedicate this poem
To Garrison Keilor...Of St Paul, Minnisota-Columnist-
Author of 77 Sonnets-Stroke Survivor Since The first Week In September Of 2009.
Here's to Spring Garrison
****Spring Magnificient Spring-Read it in the paper! ! !
Da do run run da do run run...
Met him on a Monday and my heart stood still
Somebody told me that his name was Bill.
Da Do run run Da do run run...
poem by Theodora Onken
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Autumn Falling Leaves
When all have been and gone away,
Like leaves from green to amber orange,
Falling down and to decay,
Is the time for all in nature to fall,
And the leaves on the trees show it all,
Autumn and its falls of fall,
Where all the branches have dropped their leaves,
All have gone except the evergreens,
Showing signs to us that live among,
Four seasons weather,
Where Autumn is,
Just like in life,
When full circle of life is known,
A start in spring where buds appear,
Then in summer full bloom trees will be,
Hence, fall shows all,
When nature falls,
Begining another season,
Winter and chill tempetures,
Where nature decays,
And leaves do fall,
To generate again,
Renewing its life,
Come spring again,
Untill then,
Autumn sheads its leaves of blossom and blooms,
And soon again autumn begins,
From new to old,
And then old to new,
Buds in spring and leaves of green,
Showing birth from what did decayed,
And brought forth from,
What was bear on the trees,
From where beneath was where once,
Those Autumn falling leaves.
poem by Ellen Ni Bheachain
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Divine
Not of this world entirely.
Heaven sent, you are my diety.
Lived through all the romance sadly meant for me.
All I need is a sign.
Make your presence known to mine.
Come to me, I will be divine.
I wear the spell you put on me.
Like a charm no one else can see.
Keeps away the wicked badly meant for me.
All I need is a sign.
Make your presence known to mine.
Come to me, and I will be divine.
And when I thought my fire finally died, I felt your spell, tight as ever, tied.
No one is above the rituals of love.
Temptation calls and the stars fall from the blue.
There is no limitation except for me and you.
Lived through all the romance sadly meant for me.
All I need is a sign.
Make your presence known to mine.
Come to me, and I will be divine.
All I need is a sign.
Make your presence known to mine.
Come to me, and I will be divine.
All I need is a sign.
Make your presence known to mine.
Come to me, and I will be divine.
song performed by by Blondie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The dancing whirling leaves
I will befall into my tomb
As a waning river falls to the sea
I embrace death the existence of ‘not to be’
As a child welcomes his calm night dream
I walked in the shadows of darkness and sorrow
Unfriendly and cold and alone
As dismally gurgle besides me
The bleak river desolate moan
The rise of the volleying thunder
The mountain’s lone echoes repeat
The roar whirl wind around me
The galling autumn leaves at my feet
I stooped in shadows of darkness and sorrow
Uncheered by the moon’s spangled ray
Not a friend that I love but is dead
Not a hope I have but have faded away
Oh Shall I rest in the tomb
Wrapped about with the chill winding white sheet
For the roar of the wind is around me
And the waving yellow leaves above my head
I heed not the blasts that sweep over me
I mind not the hail the storm and the raging sea
I blame not the tempest of night
They are not the foes who have banished
The visions of youthful delight
I hail the wild sound of their raving
Their merciless presence I greet
Oh let it be! Let me join these eternal elements
And roam the land and rove the vexed sea
Yet my fate is the roar of the wind engulfing me
And the piling reddened leaves at my feet
In this waste of existence and solitude, for solace
On whom shall my lone spiral call?
Shall I seek shall I fly to the friends of my bosom
My God I have buried them all
They are dead they are gone they are cold
My embrace no longer they meet or feel
Fall to the roar of the wind around me
The yellow leaves hissing in a macabre music at my feet
Those eyes that glanced love into mine
With motionless and cold slumber are pressed
Those hearts which once throbbed are no more in line
They are chill as the earth where they rest
Then around me my wan withered form
Let the pestilent gale beat
Submit to the howling wind around me
While the mocking leaves dance at my feet
Like the voice of the owl in the hall
Where the song of choir and the banquet ceased
Where the green weeds have mantled the hearth
Where raise the proud flame of feast
So I cry to the storm whose dark wings
Scatter on my eyes the wild driving sleet
Let the roar of the wind around me
And the dancing whirling clan leaves at my feet
copy rights 2010
A Thread scrawled in Timely Autumn
I watch thousands of leaves drift underneath trees,
while in a tree I sat observing
timely autumn air fetching birds –
to gather above the vegetation high up in the blue
birds rise and utter messages
as timely autumn descends on our…?
On our befallen part globe.
To hear the beauty of innocence across
the damp fall ground;
vibrating, that autumn is
going to flee away and…?
And in comes the disturbing winter breeze –
bring out a smile gloating out
on the stricken faces.
Nations fall dead from autumn exhaustion.
Oh timely autumn has come to soon –
to bear a reason of befallen:
sleeping illnesses
on our old earth.
Red, brown, orange, yell a glow
Buried in leaves is our part globe.
And stricken faces
of shadows
flee away into the nest of warmth
as worrying winter breeze crawls
in, regretfully not,
but gleefully.
Swirling around, sneaking in?
In ajar windows.
Oh season is it time
for timely autumn colour to leave
our autumn colour world into
winter darkness?
Not welcomingly the
winter nips at my thin nose
as I watch above
high in this forlorn tree
with no leaves! But what?
Empty branches of crystal snow.
poem by Celine Berghmans
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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