0210 In a Japanese Garden
How fresh the air is today.
A poet has walked this way,
as silently alive as the breeze
playing with the almond blossom.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Related quotes
Prose Poetics-2
Imagine a blossom
In breeze fresh
Slithering in joy..
Such I feel
When no smokers
Or beggars I find
Along the streets I go
But
A hanging shoppy newspaper
Reads about political
Scandals and scams
Fresh and firing
Blossom atonce dead
poem by Indira Renganathan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Be Or Don't Be (A Song)
I be or don’t be
Would be spreading whiff
As a blossom, As a bud
In the orchard of love
I be or don‘t be
Whatever the weather
I always will be there
To keep the orchard fresh
And in colour of desire
Will be watering it ever
As a blossom as a bud
The orchard of love
I be or don’t be
I will unfurl my shirt
And sway in the breeze
Will glow like flower
On the blossom trees
Would spread fragrance
As a blossom as a bud
In the garden of love
I be or don’t be
When I won’t be there
Her eyes with tears
Would be finding me
She would stop in reverie
Where I will meet her
As a blossom, as a bud
In the orchard of love
I be or don’t be
poem by S.D. Tiwari
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Almond Blossom
Blossom of the almond trees,
April's gift to April's bees,
Birthday ornament of Spring,
Flora's fairest daughterling;
Coming when no flowerets dare
Trust the cruel outer air;
When the royal kingcup bold
Dares not don his coat of gold;
And the sturdy black-thorn spray
Keeps his silver for the May; -
Coming when no flowerets would,
Save thy lowly sisterhood,
Early violets; blue and white,
Dying for their love of light; -
Almond blossom, sent to teach us
That the spring days soon will reach us,
Lest, with longing over-tried,
We die, as the violets died; -
Blossom, clouding all the tree
With thy crimson broidery,
Long before a leaf of green
On the bravest bough is seen; -
Ah! when winter winds are swinging
All thy red bells into ringing,
With a bee in every bell,
Almond bloom, we greet thee well.
poem by Edwin Arnold
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Rather mulberry than almond. (The almond-tree is in blossom earlier than the mulberry.)
Innocent Face Vavroovahana Patra
The innocent face allures the poet in the morn;
The Beauty magnifies the beauty of the dawn.
Mind derives peace;
Poet lives with Divine Bliss.
Poet is a lover of Beauty;
Beautiful things enchant the poet with gaiety.
Loves Silvery face delightfully;
Loves innocent hearts silently.
Vernal chilly Breeze kisses the crisp hair delightfully;
Fragrance of Beauty bathes poet's body with gaiety.
Poet is inspired to remain in a world of peace;
Praying in the lap of Nature derives Divine Bliss.
Innocent rural Beauty proceeds silently;
Poet, a lover of Beauty, beholds enthusiastically.
Innocence provides delight;
Inspiration is a Brook of Delight.
poem by Vavroovahana Patra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Im Alive
Im alive - and the world shines for me today
Im alive - suddenly I am here today
Seems like forever (and a day), thought I could never (feel this way)
Is this really me? Im alive, Im alive
Im alive - and the dawn breaks across the sky
Im alive - and the sun rises up so high
Lost in another world (far away), never another word (till today)
But what can I say? Im alive, Im alive, Im alive
(instrumental break)
Suddenly came the dawn (from the night), suddenly I was born (into light)
How can it be real? Im alive, Im alive, Im alive
Im alive - and the world shines for me today
Im alive - suddenly I am here today
Seems like forever (and a day), thought I could never (feel this way)
Is this really me? Im alive, Im alive, Im alive
(instrumental break)
Im alive, Im alive, Im alive, Im alive
song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poet is free
Poet is free
No grammarian can guide the poet
Do not tell before a poet you are dare
And I know there are so many grammarians
With so many grammars
The poet is one with truth with love
All the grammars old middle modern
Are of no use for a poet
At the time of poet's thought
Poet's love poet's poetry
Nobody can search research poet's history
Nobody can dare to described poet
Poet can create his own language
His own grammar and it does not bother the poet
Whether you like it or not
Leave the poet on his own way
It is better you to read him love him
If you are alive.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Homeward Bound
I'm sitting in the railway station. Got a ticket to my destination. mmmm
On a tour of one-night stands, my suitcase and guitar in hand.
And every stop is neatly planned for a poet and one-man band.
Homeward bound, I wish I was, Homeward bound,
Home where my thought's escaping, Home where my music's playing,
Home where my love lies waiting, Silently for me.
Every day's an endless stream, of cigarettes and magazines. mmmm
And each town looks the same to me, the movies and the factories
And every stranger's face I see reminds me that I long to be,
Homeward bound, I wish I was, Homeward bound,
Home where my thought's escaping, Home where my music's playing,
Home where my love lies waiting, Silently for me.
Tonight I'll sing my songs again, I'll play the game and pretend. mmmm
But all my words come back to me in shades of mediocrity
Like emptiness in harmony I need someone to comfort me.
Homeward bound, I wish I was, Homeward bound,
Home where my thought's escaping, Home where my music's playing,
Home where my love lies waiting, Silently for me, Silently for me.
song performed by by Simon & Garfunkel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Homeward Bound
Im sitting in the railway station.
Got a ticket to my destination.
On a tour of one-night stands my suitcase and guitar in hand.
And evry stop is neatly planned for a poet and a one-man band.
Homeward bound,
I wish I was,
Homeward bound,
Home where my thoughts escaping,
Home where my musics playing,
Home where my love lies waiting
Silently for me.
Evry days an endless stream
Of cigarettes and magazines.
And each town looks the same to me, the movies and the factories
And evry strangers face I see reminds me that I long to be,
Homeward bound,
I wish I was,
Homeward bound,
Home where my thoughts escaping,
Home where my musics playing,
Home where my love lies waiting
Silently for me.
Tonight Ill sing my songs again,
Ill play the game and pretend.
But all my words come back to me in shades of mediocrity
Like emptiness in harmony I need someone to comfort me.
Homeward bound,
I wish I was,
Homeward bound,
Home where my thoughts escaping,
Home where my musics playing,
Home where my love lies waiting
Silently for me.
Silently for me.
song performed by by Paul Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Through A Transparent Tear...
a night of drumming rain
woke up into an unusually
fresh winter morning
of drizzle and tickling breeze
laced by lazy chillness
the languid nerves of the night
looked for some stirring to
help them out of a tempting bed...
a breeze brushing past the sea
a breeze traversing across
the imposing dolphin's nose
a breeze caressing the leaves
buds and flowers even in earthen
pots laden heavy absorbing
the live long passion of the clouds
a breeze filling all that it touched
on the little bit of earth around me
a breeze pervading my little sky
caused me come alive...
how is it possible, i wondered
insulated as i was from the
animate and the inanimate
on the otherside with equal vogour
i looked around my accustomed
emptiness in wonder
trying to find the source
need i tell you
the source revealed itself
as your breath on me?
the heart that came alive
on this winter morning
of drizzle and breeze
shed a tear of longing
even while my body
smiled...
12nov2009
08.05hrs
poem by Indira Babbellapati
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lovers' Stroll
Along the riverbank, I happily strolled forth,
Learning for all the world, what a flash of joy is worth.
I walked with one I loved, in the years long gone by,
Absorbing a breeze as sweet as the wind in the western sky.
Along the riverbank, casually I strolled,
As the sky above unfurled a cloudy scroll.
Bending gingerly below the lowest bough,
I went leaning to and fro through vine and flower.
Along the riverbank, I strolled with one dear,
As the western breeze conveyed the crest of joy near.
Each step now pass bud and sweet blossom
Brought back memories wild-eyed and awesome.
Along the riverbank, by rock and bud and tree,
I walked with one very dear to me.
And on we walked following the Creator’s plan,
Giving nature and life our praises hand in hand.
poem by Albert Price
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Fresh Spring Breeze
Fresh spring breeze
sweeps me beneath my feet
step outside
smell the fresh air
hmmmmmm ahhhhhhhh
fresh
such a beautiful scent
how could spring be better than this?
sit in the grass
look at the clouds
grab a sunflower
hmmmmmm ahhhhhhh
fresh spring breeze
poem by Candiboo Bunny
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Help Save A Child's Life Today
this little girl has kinky hair
black is the color of her skin
almond eyes that speak
and small hands and
short arms
the ad says,
help save a child's life today
and i read it silently.
i ask myself, honestly, please do not brand
me as racist
is there such a white child
who can say, 'Help me! '
i am just wondering.
and what about the brown child in Asia?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Poet Walks Slowly
THE POET WALKS SLOWLY
The poet walks slowly
The dream of the world surrounds him
As Light.
He stops to write
And the words open up happily,
As if the morning and the fresh breeze
Were all there need be
Of God’s Soul.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Today
There has been a day like today
But a fresh new day is today
It is a unique day today
It is wide open today
All the answers for our questions has today
Let us dream today
Let us laugh today
Let us share our love today
Let us express our greatness today
Let us trade many a yesterday for today
Let us perform our tasks today
Let us make it a magnificent today
Let us thank God for giving life today
Let us thank God for seeing His creations today
Let us love most about today
A golden day is today
For it is a fact today
It has arrived today!
poem by Chandra Thiagarajan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Spring
Spring
Words cannot describe
The Beauty I see
This almond- blossom
Poetry.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Before a Poetry Reading
'Poet! Poet! Poet! Poet! '
I'm feeling nervous but I mustn't show it!
'Poet! Poet! Poet! Poet! '
I hope to heaven that I won't blow it!
'Poet! Poet! Poet! Poet! '
I mustn't reveal that I'm a second-rate poet!
I'm only a rhymer, but they don't know it!
If you've got no talent you'll have to grow it!
'Poet! Poet! Poet! Poet! '
poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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The Poet I Am', And 'The Poet I Am Not
The poet I am, and the poet I am not
‘The poet I am’ says
To ‘the poet I am not’,
‘Why can’t I be more like you? ’
And ‘the poet I am not’ says
‘Because you are not good enough’
And ‘the poet I am’ begins to cry,
And ‘the poet I am not’ says
‘Real poets cry for more meaningful things’
And ‘the poet I am’ says ‘I am who I am and what I will be means so much to me. But still I am not the poet I wanted to be’.
And ‘the poet I am not’ says
‘Exactly. Were you less concerned with who you are and more concerned with others you might be a bit more of a poet than you are now.’
And ‘the poet I am’ is silent.
And ‘the poet I am not’is somewhere else being someone else
That ‘the poet I am and the poet I am not’ cannot see or dream.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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I Cry For I Die Everyday
it’s not for a life do I hope,
I hope for each passing day
it’s not for a death that I cry
I cry for I die everyday
if childhood was myself in past
in past only alive I was
thus I cry today in immeasurable pain
for no more my childhood had last
if I was a student yesterday
today I have died once more
In tears, nothing could I say
As for me, closed was my classroom door
when world is my mother I thought
Happily I reshaped it at will
silently she sacrificed her slot
Now I cry as my world is nil
it’s not a same ego who I am
each day I walked another way
only name kept sounding the same
thus I cry for I change everyday
when fairy tales seemed real to me
Monsters I killed like a knight
when I grew up, the life I could see
I find myself losing every fight
it’s not in a life I have scope
I have scopes in each passing day
it’s not for a death that I cry
I cry for I die everyday
poem by Sankha Datta
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A Poem At A Memorial Meeting
He is a poet
A poet much misunderstood
Or not understood at all
Everyone gathered
To offer tributes.
Some said they're choked
Some read out from his books
Some stood at the podium silently
Some subtly made reference
To his emotional vagaries
And drunken ways
But all agreed upon his affection
And his humane side
For, the donation of vital organs
Suddenly put him on a different plain
For both friends, enemies and acquaintances
I sat there among the crowd
Silently feeling his presence
And seeing him attend his own memorial!
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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