Winter seclusion
Winter seclusion –
sitting propped against
the same worn post
poem by Matsuo Basho
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Related quotes
A man's thinking goes on within his consciousness in a seclusion in comparison with which any physical seclusion is an exhibition to public view.
quote by Ludwig Wittgenstein
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My overcoat is worn out; my shirts also are worn out. And I ask to be allowed to have a lamp in the evening; it is indeed wearisome sitting alone in the dark.
quote by William Tyndale
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Winter Message
A flake of snow in flurry thro’ the air
Had landed as a kiss upon my cheek:
A secret message, just for me to share;
To take to heart but never dare to speak
About or presuppose to other eyes
Your open feelings – distant though they are.
And so, upon your lips, my OWN surprise:
A flake of snow returned from me afar.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
winter winter winter winter icy winter
winter winter winter winter icy winter
winter winter winter winter icy winter
winter winter winter winter icy winter
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Return Post
(v. peterson/s. hoffs)
Vicki
Writing the lines as they come to me
Scratching them out almost immediately
Dont know what its done to me
Its cold and its wet its been raining all night
And theres a letter Ive been trying to write
Something better waiting somewhere for me
One of them is sitting on the wrong coast
One awaits an answer by return post
Waiting, waiting
Try to remember how long its been
There was more to us than paper and pen
Think how easy it is to conceal
And I know when were together again
Well be strangers for an hour and then
Well have to figure out if this thing is real
One of them is sitting on the east coast
One awaits an answer by return post
Waiting, waiting
Take a drink and staring out the window
Wondering how long this can continue
Waiting, waiting
song performed by by Bangles
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Do Not Post Your Poem Here
Do not post your poem here
Unless you've something worth a say!
You must not waste a space like this,
For space can waste away!
Do not post your poem here
With words which make no sense!
Be careful when you post it here
That you use the proper tense!
Do not post your poem here
Just to fill a space with words!
A poem should be well thought out,
Was it meant to be absurd?
Do not post your poem here
If in cliches you would write.
A poem should be fresh, yes sharp -
You'll know when it's just right!
Do not post your poem here
Just to see yourself in print.
You're wasting others time you know
With such, self centred stints!
I wil not post my poem here,
This one does not exist,
But did I tell you at the start
That I'm a nihilist?
poem by Joe Hughes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sunset In the Winter
The crisp smell of the woods is beautiful when it comes to winter. Snow across the the woods sitting there fresh and clean. when it comes to sunsets you know what i am talking about, a sunset in the winter is far more beautiful the in the spring, because in the winter you have some time to sit there and think. You are just there to see how beautiful a sunset is in the winter, My, my the beautiful things. When you hear the animals whistling in the woods you know what its like to see and feel a sunset in the winter.
poem by Rosanna Florio
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After the Interval
About three months ago, when first
Upon our open, unprotected
And freezing garden snowstorms burst
In sudden fury, I reflected
That I would shut myself away
And in seclusion write a section
Of winter poems, day by day,
To supplement my spring collection.
But nonsense piled up mountain-high,
Like snow-drifts hindering and stifling
And half the winter had gone by,
Against all hopes, in petty trifling.
I understood, alas, too late
Why winter-while the snow was falling,
Piercing the darkness with its flakes-
From outside at my house was calling;
And while with numb white-frozen lips
It whispered, urging me to hurry,
I sharpened pencils, played with clips,
Made feeble jokes and did not worry.
While at my desk I dawdled on
By lamp-light on an early morning,
The winter had appeared and gone-
A wasted and unheeded warning.
poem by Boris Pasternak
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Whipping Post
I been run down, I been lied to,
I dont know why I let that mean woman make me a fool.
She took all my money, wrecked my new car.
Now shes with one of my goodtime buddies,
Theyre drinkin in some crosstown bar.
Sometimes I feel, sometimes I feel,
Like I been tied to the whipping post,
Tied to the whipping post,
Tied to the whipping post,
Good lord, I feel like Im dyin.
My friends tell me, that Ive been such a fool,
And I have to stand by and take it baby, all for lovin you.
Drown myself in sorrow, and I look at what youve down.
But nothin seems to change, the bad times stay the same,
And I cant run.
Sometimes I feel, sometimes I feel,
Like I been tied to the whipping post
Tied to the whipping post,
Tied to the whipping post,
Good lord, I feel like Im dyin.
Sometimes I feel, sometimes I feel,
Like I been tied to the whipping post
Tied to the whipping post,
Tied to the whipping post,
Good lord, I feel like Im dyin.
Transcribed by rich kulawiec, [email protected]
song performed by by Allman Brothers Band
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Whipping Post
I been run down, i been lied to,
I don't know why i let that mean woman make me a fool.
She took all my money, wrecked my new car.
Now she's with one of my goodtime buddies,
They're drinkin' in some crosstown bar.
Sometimes i feel, sometimes i feel,
Like i been tied to the whipping post,
Tied to the whipping post,
Tied to the whipping post,
Good lord, i feel like i'm dyin'.
My friends tell me, that i've been such a fool,
And i have to stand by and take it baby, all for lovin' you.
Drown myself in sorrow, and i look at what you've down.
But nothin' seems to change, the bad times stay the same,
And i can't run.
Sometimes i feel, sometimes i feel,
Like i been tied to the whipping post
Tied to the whipping post,
Tied to the whipping post,
Good lord, i feel like i'm dyin'.
Sometimes i feel, sometimes i feel,
Like i been tied to the whipping post
Tied to the whipping post,
Tied to the whipping post,
Good lord, i feel like i'm dyin'.
Transcribed by rich kulawiec, [email protected]
song performed by by Allman Brothers Band
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Winter Pulp
The cadence of the wind striding
Resembles that of the restive exhaustion
Of the children wearing mittens
Beyond the Sun’s cold leash –
Or the chortling of the elders
As they read the newspapers
Subtly sitting on a suede chair
Relishing in the façade of the brazen
Winter, and every pulp of sodden glacier.
My hands are tremulous as the cold vapor
Of the bottle I am holding schemes
With the allure of the winter fate
Or winter serendipity and defeat me
With a foray that none can match
And that is – to render me wholly alone
With partial, fragmented hope that
Cannot be resuscitated and form a city
Of erratic allegories.
Yes, the winter pulp
I have been there – the winter’s pulp
Clothes me as if I am a sartorial man of erudition,
Poise and grace,
When I am just one of the pulps of winter –
Forgotten,
And disconsolate.
poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr
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Idealism that makes no distinction between areas where our national interest lies and those from which it is remote does no good for America. The weariness of the post-Versailles, post-Korea, post-Vietnam eras is never far from the national mood.
quote by Dick Morris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Winter's love
Winter, has the charm of life,
Winter, is like my wife.
Winter is my love,
Winter is my dream of always ''wow''
I always wait for winter like its friend,
the trees in winter always bend, having its branches like the ghosts arms.
they are my always my eye's charms.
do you love winter as i do?
poem by Leah Dsouza
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Bottom
Lift your head up from the clouds
I know that you're shaking
Breaking down
How could you leave me
Garbage can
Never want to be your understand
Help me
Help me
Help me
Help me
Lord can you help me get this weight off my shoulders
Can you help me I think I'm getting older
The pain that you left me deep within
How can I live living in sin
And you know that I've tried
And you know
Lord knows I've tried every day of my life
Sitting at the bottom, sitting at the bottom with you
Sitting at the bottom with you
I'm just sitting at the bottom with you
I'm just sitting at the bottom, sitting at the bottom
How many times I gotta say
That you're never ever gonna get your way
Down in the gutter as I decay
Where you gonna leave me
Let me be
Help me
Help me
Help me
Help me understand
And you know that I've tried
Don't you know
Lord knows I've tried every day of my life
Sitting at the bottom, I'm sitting at the bottom with you
I'm just sitting at the bottom with you
Now I'm sitting at the bottom with you
I'm just sitting at the bottom, sitting at the bottom with you
[x2]
Sticks and stones may break my bones
But words will never hurt me
[x2]
Sticks and stones breaking my bones
No your words aren't never gonna hurt me
And you know that I've tried
And you know
Lord knows I've tried every day of my life
Sitting at the bottom, sitting at the bottom with you
I'm just sitting at the bottom with you
Now i'm sitting at the bottom with you
I'm just sitting at the bottom with you
I'm just sitting at the bottom with you
song performed by by Puddle Of Mudd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I know what I write about seems exotic to a lot of people, but not for me. I pulled up to an old trading post and saw a few elderly Navajos sitting on a bench. I felt right at home.
quote by Tony Hillerman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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10/31/2007 Command Post Controller
I work in the command post,
You wouldn’t know there everywhere from coast to coast.
We work while everyone else is wake and sleeping,
We do things that help our nations safe keeping.
No one understands the command post because,
No one fully grasps what the command post does.
Know this though,
Controllers are at work even in the snow.
Holidays we are still here,
24-7 every day of the year.
I work in the command post,
Family I miss the most.
But I don’t gripe nor complain,
I’m proud to serve I have no shame.
Next time your working your nine to five,
Remember controllers actions help keep you alive.
When you lay your head down and asleep you drift,
Remember a command post controller is still on shift.
poem by Coreena Dejesus
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Redemption
Four A.M., two hours to go
I'm wearing out a lonely glow
I miss you more than I could know
Here I am, here I am
I've got my hand in redemption's side
These scars are bigger than these doubts of mine
I'll fit all of these monstrosities inside
and I'll come alive
With my fist down at your feet
I was running out of mysteries
Insecure and incomplete, here I am, here I am,
won't you get me?
My fears have worn me out
My fears have worn me out
My fears have worn me, worn me
song performed by by Switchfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Smile Begins
Sitting in the sun, on a cold frosty day,
Feeling all its warmth wash my cares away.
Crisp chilly air sending senses high,
Wisps of clouds float across the sky.
A touch of spring in the winter time,
Lifting spirits that start to climb,
And a smile begins to take its shape,
Sitting in the sun in a wild landscape.
poem by Ernestine Northover
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Winter's sun
There is something about the winter's sun,
That aspires hope after struggle
The wait for tomorrow after
long cold shivering nights;
is the optimism attached
to the winter's sun.
There is something about the winter's sun.
The Florescence of the beaming rays
the calmness of the flowing sunshine:
convinces me about the warmth,
of the winter's sun
There is something about the winter's sun.
The tender hugging of the sunbeams
on the exposed numb body:
confirms about the comfort provided
by the winter's sun
There is something about the winter's sun.
Those for whom is the winter's suffering
the warmth of the sun is also for them.
Relieving them that, a part of the
sunshine belongs to them
Of the winter's sun.
poem by Azmat Naushad Asif
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Winter Has Come
Definitely winter has come.
The evergreen shrub's white flowers have disappeared.
The ginko trees have turned into brooms.
Like a sharp sharp piercing, winter has come.
Everyone dislikes winter.
Deserted by grasses and trees, run away from by insects, winter has come.
Winter,
come to me, come to me.
I have winter's strength, winter is my victim.
Permeate through, penetrate into!
Make fires break out! Bury with snow I
Like a sharp knife, winter has come.
poem by KotaroTakamura
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pale winter farmyard
barren boughs icily scared
- black and white post card
haiku by Peter S. Quinn
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