Unremebering dream
Welcome ingrate malignancy into the cruel world
For silent words inside the frozen mouth to keep,
Unsearchable ideas to be used like a sword,
For sending meaningless reveries in our anxious sleep.
Your palaces of suffering, crowning the head of woe,
With sightless, hopeless human beings in icy, rayless lands,
Your dark, where the flowers and green grass cannot grow,
And people duty is to demand and receive your commands.
Inglorious, your never coming spring, your valley glittering in cold,
Your values, gorged in somberness, waiting to be destroyed,
And proud, a close friend of you, graven image of gold,
Will be your sad reality, when He will come and He will be annoyed.
poem by Marieta Maglas
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Related quotes
My people in Khartoum
The war took my people to Khartuom
The war destroyed my people
The war destroyed their culture
The war destroyed their identity
The war lost their values and ethics
My people in Khartoum
They walk barefoot
They beg on the streets
They sleep on street
They sleep in open air
They sleep under unfinished skyscrapers
They’re chased anytime under skyscrapers
They sleep in tents of cardboards
They sleep in tents of sisal and nylon sacks
They eat leftovers from Northern dining tables
The children scavenged in dust pin
My tears drop, dropp ….dropp hundred
Times for their suffering
My mouth jeers, jeers ….jeers hundred
Times for their suffering
May my people sail on my tears home South
The war is over
Go home and build your beautiful grass houses
That don’t leak like cardboard and sack tents
Go and cultivate the land of your fathers
Leave Khartoum, leave Khartoum
Where there’re first, second and third classes
Of people
poem by David Aoloch Bion
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Frozen Love
My icy eyes with frozen tears can see thou,
In icy lands with frozen grass thou live,
When icy sky and frozen stars hide the true
And icy love has frozen thrills to give.
But icy love cannot become eternal
And frozen thrills may disappear in time,
When eyes that dream the true are so infernal
And sky may tear sweet dreams, which are sublime.
When the icy tears will reach my prayer's goal,
In old lands with cruel love instead of true
And grass will grow in vernal, so frozen souls,
The stars will start to shine in unique hue.
poem by Marieta Maglas
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This Is How All Sunny Days Should Be
Green grass grows fast, green grass
I want you to grow so fast
So I can leap up, from the ground
And pretend to fly, soar so high
And then gravity, cruel, vile, unkind
Will drag me down, and shut my laugh
And then, green grass, (grow fast)
I’ll be sad of falling down
But then, my friend you’ll muffle my fall
And ill lie there
……..Calm………..
And hide, in the very green, tall,
Great, bed like grass
And then I’ll stare at the sky
(Light blue, immense sky)
And get lost in the clouds
(White, light absorbing clouds)
And then I’ll only hear the birds
And the wind brushing the branches
And the flowers will be dancing
To the rhythm of the air
And then I’ll think
“This is how all sunny days should be”
Autumn
Autumn: the year breathes dully towards its death,
beside its dying sacrificial fire;
the dim world's middle-age of vain desire
is strangely troubled, waiting for the breath
that speaks the winter's welcome malison
to fix it in the unremembering sleep:
the silent woods brood o'er an anxious deep,
and in the faded sorrow of the sun,
I see my dreams' dead colours, one by one,
forth-conjur'd from their smouldering palaces,
fade slowly with the sigh of the passing year.
They wander not nor wring their hands nor weep,
discrown'd belated dreams! but in the drear
and lingering world we sit among the trees
and bow our heads as they, with frozen mouth,
looking, in ashen reverie, towards the clear
sad splendour of the winter of the far south.
poem by Christopher John Brennan
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Autumn Thoughts
Gone hath the Spring, with all its flowers,
And gone the Summer's pomp and show,
And Autumn, in his leafless bowers,
Is waiting for the Winter's snow.
I said to Earth, so cold and gray,
'An emblem of myself thou art.'
'Not so,' the Earth did seem to say,
'For Spring shall warm my frozen heart.'
I soothe my wintry sleep with dreams
Of warmer sun and softer rain,
And wait to hear the sound of streams
And songs of merry birds again.
But thou, from whom the Spring hath gone,
For whom the flowers no longer blow,
Who standest blighted and forlorn,
Like Autumn waiting for the snow;
No hope is thine of sunnier hours,
Thy Winter shall no more depart;
No Spring revive thy wasted flowers,
Nor Summer warm thy frozen heart.
poem by John Greenleaf Whittier
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Simply Living / California Grass
Fields of dark green grass
Getting sunburned in the summer.
The green turns brown, then
Bleached white gold.
The Spring brings rain;
The smell of new life
The gold turns green again
Its life seems brand new.
Grass lives so simply,
Changing with the weather.
Too bad that's not true
For people like me and you.
Simply living seems so much better
Than the way people do.
poem by Tom O'Connor
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The Gloucester Mother
When autumn winds are high,
They wake and trouble me
With thoughts of people lost
A-coming on the coast,
And all the ships at sea.
How dark, how dark and cold
And fearful in the waves,
Are tired folk who lie not still
And quiet in their graves
In moving waters deep
That will not let men sleep
As they may sleep on any hills,
May sleep ashore till time is old
And all the earth is frosty cold.
Under the flowers a thousand springs
They sleep and dream of many things.
God bless them all who die at sea!
If they must sleep in restless waves,
God make them dream they are ashore
With grass above their graves!
poem by Sarah Orne Jewett
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Birthday Card
It is impossible to comprehend
How meaningful friends disappear,
I have a lifetime of flowers
To remember from when you were here.
I’m sending you a birthday card
To the unsearchable reaches of the universe.
Love has no end,
I know you will receive it.
poem by Uriah Hamilton
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It Is Fresh If Kept, Cool
It is fresh if kept,
Away from that which spoils...
Those attitudes,
Quicken to darken by a mood.
It's fresh if kept,
Together without salt.
And a peppered tongue,
Spiced with words from a mouth to come out!
It is fresh if kept,
Away from evil people.
A mind that finds,
A peace inside...
Found from nine to five!
And from...
Five to nine!
It's fresh if kept,
Cool.
It is fresh if kept,
Away from fools.
It's fresh if kept,
Cool.
It is fresh if kept,
Away from fools.
It is fresh if kept,
Away from evil people.
A mind that finds,
A peace inside...
Found from nine to five!
And...
Five to nine!
Evil will have those you love dearly,
Convinced...
You are not who you are!
It is fresh if kept,
Away from that which spoils...
Those attitudes,
Quicken to darken by a mood.
It's fresh if kept,
Cool.
It is fresh if kept,
Away from fools.
It's fresh if kept,
Cool.
It is fresh if kept,
Away from fools.
Choose not to be annoyed.
It is fresh if kept,
Cool.
It is fresh if kept,
Away from fools.
It's fresh if kept,
Cool.
It is fresh if kept,
Away from fools.
Choose not to be annoyed.
Choose not to be destroyed.
Keep your mind kept fresh.
Choose not to be annoyed.
Choose not to be destroyed.
It is fresh if kept,
Cool.
Choose not to be annoyed.
Choose not to be destroyed.
Keep your mind kept fresh,
And cool.
Keep your mind kept fresh.
And away from fools.
Keep your mind kept fresh,
And cool.
It's best not to be annoyed.
It's best not to be destroyed!
Evil will have those you love dearly,
Convinced...
You are not who you are!
It is best to keep cool.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Laying Besides You
I am laying beside you on green grass,
Your arms are hugging me with passion,
The world seems so silent, the sky feels so close,
The flowers around us are witnesses to our love.
We can hear the happy nature around,
As we sit in the shadow of this tree,
To me you are a dream become alive,
You are my truth, my reality.
poem by Cristina Teodor
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A Love Spring
So Spring warm weather upon with you watch
bloom flowers: Tulip, Orchid, Cherry ect..
That awake Springtime beautiful blue sky
With me, feeling of peace with Spring
Pollen of the flowers trees everywhere
To let you know the Spring coming
Green grass with flowers fill us with joy
Outdoor full of activities
Spring gently warm our souls
To the Spring 's love within you and me forever.
poem by Natasa Tocuc
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Sad Night
On the eve of my 21st birthday
I sat alone in freezing temperatures
I walked upon snow and almost slipped on frozen water
The sky was clear above me as a plane flew over head
Dark, cold, lonely, sad night
Amidst the frustration of the winter dog trying to bite my backside
My feet were freezing inside their boots
My body was numb; the icy air ate through my gloves
It provided a bone chilling unpleasantness
It is a cold, lonely, dark, sad night
I called a friend to have a chat, but there was no answer
I was literally standing atop a frozen snow angel
That I had formed with my body a few days earlier
I left a message, not much more to it
Tis a lonely, dark, cold, sad night
I crusaded from one side of the parking lot
To the other in search of light
I could find no sunshine in my presence
Nay, I was shrouded by the deepest blackest shadows
Of the dark, sad, cold, lonely night
I can not sleep, I can not hide
The death’s awake, alive inside.
2-3-09
poem by Jesse Tampa
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That Early Morning Before You Go For A Walk
you dream about a court litigation,
there was this man, emaciated suffering
from tuberculosis, his bed is worn out, blood stains
on his pillow and blanket unwashed, you can estimate
how this foul smell emasculates him,
he does not sound a complaint,
yet you know he does not like everything around him,
including himself,
there are cockroaches feeding on his saliva
drying and more are coming from his mouth,
no one cares for him, he is left alone to die,
and you see these things above him
you are the spirit of his dream, his son, and he
is your father,
there are unresolved issued between you and him
years ago, you are ambivalent,
did he destroy you? or was it him who placed you
in the throne of your success now?
Hamlet, to be or not to be,
you murmur the lines in your sleep.
you wake up, remembering a friend under the same circumstances.
some of them, too, died in despair,
unable to understand the madness of the Furies
existing in the mind of the weak and
the feeble minded.
things are simple. Doubt is a reality.
Ambivalence is human nature too.
What is important is this: they belong to their world now
and you are on your own
in this contested Paradise.
Why not enjoy it now? Savor, and just be yourself.
Go on. Write about it and be the redeemed man that you are.
With God beside you, who can be against you?
Ah, not even your cruel father. Not even your insensitive self.
It simple. Life is simple. Do not complicate it with the unnecessary
Metaphors. Words are nothing but words.
Dreams are just dreams. The cockroaches are merely symbols.
The man with TB was never him. Funny, but it could be you.
Meanwhile, you take a walk, and be under the power of the sun.
Stare at it. Close your eyes. Savor what red is there.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Inside The Moviehouse
inside the movie house
my lips are drying because it is so
cold in here, but with you
i get myself moistened up
with your constant flow
of salive from your
mouth to my mouth
tongue to tongue
i close my eyes to get
the picture of you sitting
on my lap my extra large sausage
rising up from its ruins
you rain on my valley
wetting my grass and
my cliffs have waterfalls
flowing steadily
there is this forest fire
and there are no firemen coming....
i know the title of the movie
but i cannot really remember the details
of the story..
and i don't blame you.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Mood of Depression
You dark mouth inside me,
You are strong , shape
Composed of autumn cloud,
And golden evening stillness;
In the shadows thrown
By the broken pine trees
A mountain stream turns dark in the green light;
A little town
That piously dies away into brown pictures.
Now the black horses rear
In the foggy pasture.
I think of soldiers!
Down the hill, where the dying sun lumbers,
The laughing blood plunges,
Speechless
Under the oak trees! Oh the hopeless depression
Of an army; a blazing steel helmet
Fell with a clatter from purpled foreheads.
The autumn night comes down so coolly.
With her white habit glittering like the stars
Over the broken human bodies
The convent nurse is silent
poem by Georg Trakl
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Cry Aloud
A voice said, 'Cry aloud! '
and I said, “But what shall I cry? ”
Shall I sing to the people
a song of spring,
hills aflame with green,
dry grass igniting
with joy?
In darker days,
when the high meadow fell fallow
and flowers of the valley
dried to dust,
I thought you'd turned
away, took your giving hands
to other lands.
Despairing, I wept,
stung by tears
from angry Hell,
and doubted
your love.
Oh, forgive me, pity your child
and make your enduring rain fall
on the riotous grass,
on the bold crocus
and passionate
rose.
poem by Steven Federle
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Simply grass....! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
Grass is very pretty;
But it’s not simply grass,
Or just stuff of lawns.
If you go up and close,
You see a world
Of flowers, waiting
To be discovered.
Grass flowers keep a low profile;
Their colour, height not loud
To scream from far off…
But as I sit on grass
On a humid day, As Sun goes down
West in May,
Or at mid-noon in December
On an icy cold day;
Somehow they remind me
Of a six month old,
Who first learns to crawl
And raises his neck and turns
To make eye contact
With his mom.
The innocence writ large
On their face
Is their unique scent.
Although not effervescent;
Yet timid… by no means.
What if they grow under trees?
Or wherever they get
To assert themselves.
They deserve applause for
Holding their own
On frail stems.
They arrest my gaze,
And I feel more than certain
God is in small details.
poem by Mamta Agarwal
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Where's God ?
The world used to be good
since the devil overturned God policies
The world became into a disastrous
There's poverty almost everywhere
There are people in this world without homes
They are struggling
There are many people who are becoming disable
When we needed God
He never appear
When we are suffering of pain
Does he help?
yes, I believe in God
Yes, In God I trust
But, sometimes
It feels like there's no God
Look, how the world is drifting apart
Our people are dying of hunger
But, Where is God?
Why doesn't He help them?
I lay down on the ground
All I can image is how our people are suffering
How the world is turning into darkness
yet, God is not responsible for everything
But, where is He?
when our strength is washing away
when we are hopeless
yes, we have to be strong
yes, we have to fight
But, what would God do for them?
What would He do for me?
Where's God?
poem by Guenael Oristel
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When it will be spring
see flowers on my window
Cold winds whipping about
Soon I think
Wolves will begin to howl
When will it be spring?
Frozen days
When nature stands statue still
Cold hands, cold feet, cold heart
When will it be spring?
Haven’t heard a bird sing
The sun shines through a frozen haze
Sad days, cold days
When will it be spring?
poem by Jaya Ghosh
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Horses at Midnight without a Moon
Our heart wanders lost in the dark woods.
Our dream wrestles in the castle of doubt.
But there's music in us. Hope is pushed down
but the angel flies up again taking us with her.
The summer mornings begin inch by inch
while we sleep, and walk with us later
as long-legged beauty through
the dirty streets. It is no surprise
that danger and suffering surround us.
What astonishes is the singing.
We know the horses are there in the dark
meadow because we can smell them,
can hear them breathing.
Our spirit persists like a man struggling
through the frozen valley
who suddenly smells flowers
and realizes the snow is melting
out of sight on top of the mountain,
knows that spring has begun.
poem by Jack Gilbert
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