Oh!
OH! let the lighting clouds come instantly
from the snowy summit of the Mount Stake
and let the scythe
come into the blonde hair of the wheat scything
and i have put the sedge
on the rainless back of the field
from the cloud
we sowed the field together with my mother
my sister pruned the grass in needy
and suckled there her newly born baby
OH! the endlees winter of 72
OH! come and warm everwhere and us a little bit
let my melancholic love spring up from my bed
I have three ears of wheat
at the large thrashing field of my village
let the rain and the days sunny
spread everywhere their beauty
I do not want too much
let unbind the infertility of the sky
guard and save our winter provisions
for this
I have descended from the mountain
to the blonde hair of the wheat for cropping
poem by Metin Sahin
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Related quotes
Parables of Jesus: The Kingdom of Heaven: The Wheat and the Darnel Gospel, Matthew 13: 24-30
Then Jesus told another parable:
‘Kingdom of Heaven- Wheat and the darnel'
Heaven can be compared to that of a man,
Who sowed only good seed in his whole field.
But just when everybody fell asleep,
His enemy had come and sown darnel,
Amongst the wheat and sped away quite fast.
And when the new wheat sprouted very well,
The darnel too appeared amidst the same;
His labourers all went to him and said,
‘Wasn't it good seed that you sowed in your field?
He told them, ‘Some enemy had done this! '
When they asked if they should pull the weeds out,
He told, ‘No, as the wheat would come with it! '
‘Let them both grow until the harvest-time;
And then I will instruct my reapers all,
‘Collect the darnel first; burn the bundles!
Gather the good wheat all into my barn! '
poem by John Celes
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If only I pass into nothingness
Should turn up in my memory wheat grain crops,
blonde waves inspire me everlasting wavings,
the bird`s song : the field – a big dissoluteness,
the days` south secretly between us does sift it(...)
Should I look into the thought`s depth : a river
which lightens Undeath – spend my years,
and I have your face like the seaside of the wheat ears:
an icon, that it steals my everything – time!
If only I pass into nothingness,
I will remember you for ever
rich soil for love –
my seaside-longing!,
blonde dreamings will sift you –
young(...)
when,
I –
forgetten
seagulls
should I be food and f l y.
poem by Dumitru Găleșanu from Emotions into Multiverse (25 July 2010), translated by Adrian Constantinescu
Submitted by anonym
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Valley Deep
Your eyes are a powerful ocean,
Your hair a golden field of wheat,
Your lips are crimson rose petals,
Your mind a valley deep,
I want to drown in the ocean,
I want to run my hand through the golden field of wheat,
I want to press my lips against the crimson rose petals,
I want to run through the valley deep
poem by Mary Great
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Famine
Jackal..howled with a long breath into the air
and wove into the night its voice like a tolling knell
wavering from the mountains onto the plains
it is a few days away entering june
fading yellow rubbed its back against the ears of the wheats
dropping them from their long..lean stems
the water once flowing in abundance with high noise
which ground the wheat into flour went somewhere and
diminished from the water ways
the milk of the mountain fig lost
the dog grass did not grow hid themselves in their roots
the white meat of the shah cock weighing many kilos
exhausted and melted itself own
till down
for the first time
a faded ear of wheat in the middle of the plain
saw far awaythe rainless approaching white cloud
at the pinkish dawn
and wholly dried up in vain
jackal...held its breath and walked away to hell
and wove into the night its voice like a tolling knell
wavering from the mountains into the plains
and the smell of the burnt wheat in the hairy biack rag-sack
spread everywhere
Nedrat GURCAN translation metin sahin
poem by Metin Sahin
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Suicide Blonde
(a farriss & m hutchence)
Suicide blonde
Suicide blonde
Suicide blonde
Suicide blonde
Suicide blonde
Was the colour of her hair
Like a cheap distraction
For a new affair
She knew it would finish
Before it began
Something tells me you lost the plan
Chorus
You want to make her
Suicide blonde
Love devastation
Suicide blonde
You want to make her
Suicide blonde
Love devastation
Suicide blonde
She stripped to the beat
But her clothes stay on
White light everywhere
But you cant see a thing
Such a squeeze
A mad sad moment
Glory to you
Glory to you
Take me there
Take me there
Got some revelation
Put into your hands
Save you from your misery
Like rain across the land
Dont you see
The colour of deception
Turning your world around again
Chorus
song performed by by INXS
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Haymaking
The living quality of
the man's mind
stands out
and its covert assertions
for art, art, art!
painting
that the Renaissance
tried to absorb
but
it remained a wheat field
over which the
wind played
men with scythes tumbling
the wheat in
rows
the gleaners already busy
it was his own---
magpies
the patient horses no one
could take that
from him
poem by William Carlos Williams
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Waiting On The Wheat Harvest
as you sow brothers sisters so you wheat harvest reap
as a grain of wheat dies germinates bears fruit to heap
Jesus will completely clean up threshing floor gather his wheat
chaff he will burn up with unquenchable fire hell suffering heat
an enemy came in over sowed weeds in among seed wheat
reapers harvest collect weeds burn them saving only wheat
Satan demands sifts men as wheat to blow away in sifting wind
Son of man will send angels to gather chosen ones from ill wind
a grain of wheat falls into the ground dies then bears fruit new life
so hate soul temptation in this world safeguard soul for eternal life
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Letter To N.Y.
For Louise Crane
In your next letter I wish you'd say
where you are going and what you are doing;
how are the plays and after the plays
what other pleasures you're pursuing:
taking cabs in the middle of the night,
driving as if to save your soul
where the road gose round and round the park
and the meter glares like a moral owl,
and the trees look so queer and green
standing alone in big black caves
and suddenly you're in a different place
where everything seems to happen in waves,
and most of the jokes you just can't catch,
like dirty words rubbed off a slate,
and the songs are loud but somehow dim
and it gets so teribly late,
and coming out of the brownstone house
to the gray sidewalk, the watered street,
one side of the buildings rises with the sun
like a glistening field of wheat.
--Wheat, not oats, dear. I'm afraid
if it's wheat it's none of your sowing,
nevertheless I'd like to know
what you are doing and where you are going.
poem by Elizabeth Bishop
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Bread Hair
Im a wigged-out daddy with bread on top
I dig an easy-bake granny with a whiskey mop
If you love me, you neednt the whole wheat crop
cause they had a useless battle andll never stop
Bread hair, oh boy, oh boy
Bread hair, oh boy, oh boy
Bread hair, oh boy, oh boy
Youre drivin all my hope away
Im a pumpernickel-do for you, dough you do
Use a yarmulka of hallah bread if youre a jew
I belong to cayope*, I be the wheat for you
Yeast and flour, bake an hour, its annoying shampoo
Bread hair, oh boy, oh boy
Bread hair, oh boy, oh boy
Bread hair, oh boy, oh boy
Drivin all my hope away
Bread hair, oh boy, oh boy
Bread hair, oh boy, oh boy
Bread hair, oh boy, oh boy
Youre drivin all my hope away
Thats a gone rug, buddy
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Love Field
You lie so unfolded
In a love field
With your contempt for any modesty
In a love field
In a love field
In a love field
You yield with your lips still sealed
In a love field
Lost in a sea of imaginary women
Everything youd want
From the dawn to the dimming
Breath comes sharp and heart beats faster
In a love field
Cold ground for a pillow
Under a blanket of stars
In a love field
In a love field
In a love field
Headlights that startled
This embrace of hours
In a love field
In a crooked house
Where things can be arranged
You think youre different from the rest
But you dont see how youve changed
Under an archway
On a road of white linen
In a love field
Feel the anxious rhythm of a functional stranger
In a love field
In a love field
In a love field
Shes so tense but its never mentioned
In a love field
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Magical Mystery Tour
I am in this low-slung sports car
painted a deep, rich yellow
driving under an Italian sun.
I have a British accent.
I'm wearing dark shades
an expensive silk shirt.
there's no dirt under my
fingernails.
the radio plays Vivaldi
and there are two women with
me
one with raven hair
the other a blonde.
they have small breasts and
beautiful legs
and they laugh at everything I
say.
as we drive up a steep road
the blonde squeezes my leg
and nestles closer
while raven hair
leans across and nibbles my
ear.
we stop for lunch at a quaint
rustic inn.
there is more laughter
before lunch
during lunch and after
lunch.
after lunch we will have a
flat tire on the other side of
the mountain
and the blonde will change the
tire
while
raven hair
photographs me
lighting my pipe
leaning against a tree
the perfect background
perfectly at peace
with
sunlight
flowers
clouds
birds
everywhere.
poem by Charles Bukowski
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For A While
i stop for a while on this morning walk
to see the ripening rice plants on the field
golden indeed like the blonde hairs
of the american woman
under the gentleness of the sun that has
newly arrived from the split sides of the
nearby mountain
my eyes were caught however
on this maiden with a brown skin
long black hair with an earthen jar
on her left shoulder held by her
small hands
she is just passing by to fetch
some water in the old stone-walled well
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Winter Gone
Winter is closed for another year
Spring has sprung upon us
Was the winter kind to you
I miss winter now its gone laying by the fire
The charcoal wood the flickering of the flames
Now the warmer days are coming
New life is born in spring
New dreams are dreamed
New beginings sad endings
The days will be longer now the cold has left the ground
For three months now we will have spring shower and sunshine
I miss you winter and all your beauty
But you will be back this i am certain
After the spring comes the summer
The scorching heat the rolls of thunder
I love the summer storms the lightning the rain
But i miss you winter and all your beauty
So goodbye my beauty for another year
I will miss you until autumn appears
Cabinessence
Light the lamp and fire mellow,
Cabin essence timely hello,
Welcomes the time for a change.
Lost and found, you still remain there.
Youll find a meadow filled with grain there.
Ill give you a home on the range.
Who ran the iron horse?
Who ran the iron horse?
Who ran the iron horse?
Who ran the iron horse?
Who ran the iron horse?
Who ran the iron horse?
Who ran the iron horse?
Who ran the iron horse?
Who ran the iron horse?
Who ran the iron horse?
I want to watch you windblown facing
Waves of wheat for your embracing.
Folks sing a song of the grange.
Nestle in a kiss below there.
The constellations ebb and flow there.
And witness our home on the range.
Who ran the iron horse?
(truck driving man do what you can)
Who ran the iron horse?
(high-tail your load off the road)
Who ran the iron horse?
(out of night-life-its a gas man)
Who ran the iron horse?
(I dont believe I gotta grieve)
Who ran the iron horse?
(in and out of luck)
Who ran the iron horse?
(with a buck and a booth)
Who ran the iron horse?
(catchin on to the truth)
Who ran the iron horse?
(in the vast past, the last gasp)
Who ran the iron horse?
(in the land, in the dust, trust that you must)
Who ran the iron horse?
(catch as catch can)
Have you seen the grand coolie workin on the railroad?
Have you seen the grand coolie workin on the railroad?
Have you seen the grand coolie workin on the railroad?
Over and over,
The crow cries uncover the cornfield.
Over and over,
The thresher and hover the wheat field.
Over and over,
The crow cries uncover the cornfield.
Over and over,
The thresher and hover the wheat field.
Over and over,
The crow cries uncover the cornfield.
Over and over,
The thresher and hover the wheat field.
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Maybe because it's your hair
Maybe because it’s
Your hair
That blonde windy strand
With your head a tired field.
Perhaps because it’s like this
Removal of sympathetic brimmed
Analogies
(smell of first times, honest questions)
shade-providing
law-abiding
grey-hiding
Love of scholarly language
That is why I think that
Because it’s plainly
Your hair
You mind the humidity.
poem by Walt Ostrander
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He keeps silent, like a deaf pig in the wheat-field.
What Cedric Said About His Sister.
Cedric followed you
around the playground
at high school
it seemed he wanted
to say something to you
but instead he just followed
you around until
as you stood looking over
at the playing field
where kids were gathering
in their break period
he said
my sister likes you
how do you know?
you asked
because she told me
he replied blushing
looking over at the playing field
isn't she your twin?
Yes
he said
going red
gazing at his sister
standing with a group
of friends on the field
you looked over at the girls
at Cedric's sister waving a hand
so that's Christina
yes
he muttered
the one with the dark hair
and waving a hand
then he went silent
and looked at you
Mother said she's too young for boyfriends
he said after a few moments
but she doesn't listen
she does what she wants
so she told me to tell you
she likes you
and so you nodded
and waved your hand
back at the girls
and there was an explosion
of giggling and laughter
and waving of hands
and then they ran off
onto the field
and as they ran off
you noticed Cedric's sister
had a cute butt
but you didn't tell him that
you just turned and said
fancy a game of ball?
and he just nodded
and said nothing more
about his sister at all.
poem by Terry Collett
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In Winter's Arms
Winter holds me with his arms of icy white,
and kissed my breath with frost upon the pane.
Subdued by touch of winter's frigid hand,
I pray for spring to find me once again.
O'wind, you whistle to the winter's tune.
Your melody is heard 'pon day and night,
but one day spring will come to rescue me,
and wisk away your song of winter's blight.
O'tree, you're frozen in the winter's dream.
Your leaves have left you 'neath a moon of white,
but when my prayers are answered 'pon spring's dawn,
you'll thaw beneath its sun with warm delight.
O'field, your harvest has been reaped and spent ~
and winter blankets you 'neath snowy mounds.
Yet one day soon in springtime's rising mist
you'll feel the greening of your earth rebound.
Winter holds me with his arms of icy white,
and kissed my breath with frost upon the pane ~
but deep within I somehow always know,
that spring will come and find me once again.
poem by Hazelmarie Elliott
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Horoscope - for Blaise Romany
These winter days have been long and cold
For the one who waits on the birth in me,
For though she carries the seed I hold
I carry the watchword, ‘Destiny! '
The cosmic clock in my loins has set
The future freeze on the planet’s race
And what was set by my lovers clasp
Will shine in the new-born spirit’s face.
The planets whirl and the planets wheel
To weave their way in the master’s web,
I cannot buy, I can only steal
One short life-long at my life-tide’s ebb.
The star that falls in the field of wheat,
The lightning flash in the summer storm,
The sigh of shadows, the thunder’s beat
Will all be present when you are born!
10 October 1976
poem by David Lewis Paget
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Dumb Blonde-It Seems True
People call me a dumb blonde
sometimes it seems true
i trip over my own feet
and i cant find the answer to an easy math problem
can the color of your hair change how you act?
if its true ill dye my hair pink
green
red
blue
silver
anything but blonde!
i love how it looks but i dont wanna be stupid!
Dumb Blonde?
I guess so
poem by Izzy Barnwell
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