If You're Dreaming
of flowers don't forget their roots
unpicked their fragrance gives birth to your breath
untouched their colours know the deepest blue
not searched for they come like wild lambs
to make the whole house out of your door
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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The Rose
Sometimes you come upon a unpicked wild rose
And sometimes you come upon people
Who are beautiful like an unpicked wild rose
There so beautiful and smell so great
But somehow seem much more beautiful
Every time you look at them
And when you come upon a rose that's unpicked
You can't help but want to cut the rose off
And carry it around and show it off
We all know roses have thorns on them
But there so beautiful that you
Must have one for your own
So you try and cut a rose off
And get pricked on your finger
You bleed but you still keep trying
After you get the rose
You run home
To show it off
You eventually get a band-aid to cover the prick
Where the rose bit you
After you take the band-aid off you see the scar
It eventually goes away in time
But you will always remember
Where the rose bit you
But it doesn't stop you
From trying to get another
Beautiful rose
The Miniature Woman
The Blue-Eyed Giant, the Miniature Woman
and the Honeysuckle
He was a blue-eyed giant,
He loved a miniature woman.
The woman's dream was of a miniature house
with a garden where honeysuckle grows
in a riot of colours
that sort of house.
The giant loved like a giant,
and his hands were used to such big things
that the giant could not
make the building,
could not knock on the door
of the garden where the honeysuckle grows
in a riot of colours
at that house.
He was a blue-eyed giant,
he loved a miniature woman,
a mini miniature woman.
The woman was hungry for comfort
and tired of the giant's long strides.
And bye bye off she went to the embraces of a rich dwarf with a garden where the honeysuckle grows
in a riot of colours
that sort of house.
Now the blue-eyed giant realizes,
a giant isn't even a graveyard for love:
in the garden where the honeysuckle grows
in a riot of colours
that sort of house...
poem by Nazim Hikmet
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Refuge
(david henman)
Published by summerlea music, ltd. - bmi
Im but a lad, oh for Im twenty, tuned in to dreaming
Gazing at your sign, for mad men only, my poets screaming
I searched for you, but I cant find you
I searched for you, but I cant find you
Take me to the wild black seas of madness, the savage dancer
Clothe me in insanity and leave me, to find the answer
I searched for you, but I cant find you
I searched for you, but I cant find you
I searched for you, but I cant find you
I searched for you, but I cant find you
I searched for you, but I cant find you
I searched for you, but I cant find you
I searched for you, but I cant find you
I searched for you, but I cant find you
song performed by by April Wine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Thing
a things smooth and
as fragile as
china
when you left
untouched it cracks
shatters on the floor
unpicked.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Sweet Violets
They are coming up in my gardens
Why, just like wild flowers they grow
A delicious early spring splash of color
That’s why I really love them so
They are pale as a spring violet can be
A lavender color they are
Tiny with a fragrance so special
The best early flower by far
They always infuse with my landscape
I love the perfect way that they blend
With other flowers like blue Forget-me-not’s
And when finished tiny seeds they send
I do so enjoy my flowers in spring
I even pick them for a wonderful bouquet
I wish you could visit my gardens as well
I’d serve you sweet tea without any delay!
poem by Marilyn Lott
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Colours
Colours are just colours
One might suppose
Rage is red…
But then again…
so is a rose
So colours are more
Than they seem, don’t’ you think
For boys it’s usually blue
For little girls always pink
Yep, colours are colours
Perhaps that’s all they should be
Just something to look at
Only something to see
But colours have emotion
At least they do to me
Perhaps I just don’t see hues
In the same way
that you see
Because blue to me
Is more than just a hue
It’s the sky, it’s berries,
Oceans … and sadness too
Green is envy, grass and dinero
Purple is royalty, plums and passion
Yellow is cowardice, butter and tallow
Colours are … whatever you wish to fashion
Perhaps I see colours differently than you
Perhaps exactly the same way… I hope
But my advice to you, whatever you do
Is … don’t get me started on taupe! !
poem by David Whalen
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An uncreative medicine
no hope
no friend
no family
no home
no nativity
no nationality
no fame
no name
no future
no points
no market
no identity
no possessions still a tree without roots
no relationship still a tree without roots
no anarchism still a tree without roots
no hiearchy still a tree without roots
no country still a tree without roots
no colours still a tree without roots
no degrees still a tree without roots
no certificates
no imaginations
no dream
no poetry
no fiction
no story
no news
no media
no happiness still a tree without roots
no genre still a tree without roots
no labels still a tree without roots
no names still a tree without roots
THE FOURTH EYE
of
A post-conceptual poet.
A Waltz Of Blue Smiles
Please read it on a waltz rhythm: One! two, three...
She's losing her house
She's losing her house
And what what what what
She does?
A poem she writes
Paints both of her eyes
And feet in dark blue
then she cries:
I'm loosing my house
I'm loosing my house
There's nothing to do
Oh mine!
I'm loosing my house
I'm loosing my house
Blue eyes and blue feet
Oh, sweet!
Why are you so sweet
Why are you so sweet
Blue eyes blue face
and blue feet?
Her handkerchief fly
Slow searching the sky
blue rivers of tears
got dry.
On a smile smiley
cheek
colours pass through
With tears and fears
Of blue.
She's losing her house
That's sad very sad
But we know she'll survive
And smile.
Blue cute sign became
In a book of one poem
blue fears, blue tears in
origami folded again.. Insane? ! ..
poem by Elena Sandu
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You Claim To Be True
You claim to be true,
I tell no lie to you too,
You bring me tidings of good times,
That they will come too,
In the patio of my house
The flowers will smile
And they will instill fragrance into my breath,
Have you ever thought that the spring tide
Often goes astray forgetting the path
Of someone’s house, but you claim to be true.
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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Wild Blue Yonder
If you need a prison break
I will be the file in the cake
We will make a great escape
Into the wild blue yonder
If you need to chase the blues
I will be your running shoes
Well double back and leave no clues
Into the wild blue yonder
Chorus
Into the wild blue yonder
Where we can be free
Into the wild blue yonder
Im takin you with me
If you need to fight for love
I will be your boxing gloves
Cheering crowds will lift us up
Into the wild blue yonder
Chorus
If you need someone to care
If life is treating you unfair
Take my love Ill lead you there
Into the wild blue yonder
Into the wild blue yonder
song performed by by Diamond Rio
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Between The Covers
I have plucked
Every primrose and daisy
Sprouting in myriad colours
On every wild vegetation,
Grown around my neighbour’s fence.
I have also plucked
All the flowers on my path
In their youthful fragrance,
Of spilled out pollen,
And in their sealed-dreams,
Clinging intimately to the
Tender stems of unknown creepers.
I don’t know
For whom they bloomed,
For the hot Sun?
For the cool Moon?
Or for the soothing South Wind?
Just see!
The flowers have never complained,
Either loud or in whispers,
Or perhaps
I have not cared to heed
Their effeminate indignation
Against my reckless passion,
Believe me.
I have also not spared
All the early flowers
Of Spring and Summer
Grown in the distant meadows
Only to press them for you
Between the covers.
The house in Panorama Street
I once had a stretch of red rocky ground
on the street side
of a rented house
in Panorama street in Rooihuiskraal.
The cars criss-crossed past
and the bank took it back
and rented it out
and nobody else
wanted to make that house
his own.
I decided to let flowers,
sprout out
of that rocky earth.
There were small carnations
that grew creeping over each other
with the most wonderful smell
and opened
in colours of white, red and purple blue.
There were geraniums
that easily grew out of cuttings
and become big strong bushes
that was covered with flowers.
Vygies crept all over the place
and just where you look
the rocky soil stood in flower
and I wanted to stop the bank
when I got two months notice
and other people
bought that house
with my beautiful garden.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I’m going to Blue Dimension
I’m going to blue dimension
Thru my own magic door
It’s truly a comprehension
And borderline of life’s seashore
In times on passing by
And giving its heart content
It opens to the blue sky
When feeling are in relent
It shows you the magic hours
And all that you can give
Its grass is of wild and flowers
That you on truly must live
To enjoy the moments they make
In magic that is passing on
When you from its dreams awake
It never is really gone
So open your blue dimension door
To see what is there inside
And what’s in your heart’s lore
In thoughts you did put aside
There are moments of their truth
In everything that we all do
It’s magic of infinity youth
As days come and get on thru
poem by Peter S. Quinn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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This Morning In The Southwest Balcony
the first rays of the sun
penetrated into the house
bright and pointed
from the eastern door
untouched by the sun
we sat on the other end
in the southwest balcony
quietly over a cup of tea
the savoring warm liquid
causing the insides cuddle
tickling the chillness out
above us the sky began to
assume its exclusive azure
filling the winter precincts
and feasting the heavy eyes
i lifted the sleepy lashes to
absorb the blue and it’s then
i saw you transforming
into the blue sky…
my winged mind
floated like a joyous
cloud against the
blue back drop
05nov2009
06.54hrs
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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A Flower's Fragrance Declare The World
In friendship's fragrant garden
The flower is the poetry of reproduction.
None can have a healthy love for flowers
unless he loves the wild ones.
Everything has been thought of before
but the difficulty is to think of it again.
In the hope of reaching the moon
men fail to see the flowers
And it's my faith, that every flower
Enjoys the air it breathes.
flowers are our constant friends.
The gardens that make us happiest flourish
A flower's fragrance declares to all the world
poem by Ezna Stephna
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Heaven as spectrum
Bold March sunlight bounces
off the yellow-grey-brown London claybricks
of the house across the gardens;
the next-door neighbour’s cut the dead ivy
and the reflected light hits the artificial flowers
and their strong delicate colours, glowing
in their various cobalt vases; blooming joyful
where living flowers find that corner sad;
the flowers as if washed today with brighter water-colours;
as if grace itself, wishing to send a message
to this room today, had chosen the spectrum
of the flowers’ purples, yellows, blues and reds
as its medium and message; and its smile;
today, the spectrum is for me
metaphor enough – its rainbow limits
playing now-you-see-me… with the retina,
hinting at the formless always beckoning
there, beyond the form..
metaphor enough
for heaven’s mind itself; and heaven’s smile.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Getting Away From It All
Farewell, Farewell, noisy city, I have had enough of your crowded streets, pollution and incessant babble.
I shall go into the Woods and build myself a cabin amongst the chirping morning birds and summer flowers.
Where I can sit by the babbling brook and read my books of Poetry and Philosophy in Peace.
Where I can look at the wonderful sunset painting the emplty sky with its beautiful colours..
Where I can smell the uplifting fragrance of the wild flowers and enjoy the beauty of Nature while I can.
For I am but a passing shadow in this mystical journey called Life
with it's mixture of Joy and Sadness.
poem by Michael Kersting
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An English Spring Ramble
Spring is here in every new budding leaf
that flourishes beneath
this vast expansive sky of baby blue.
Wild pink cherry in blossom by the road
covers soft yellow daffodils on show,
fav'rite colours in a nursery hue.
Push'd into this expectant painted world
first lambs, tails unfurled
wobble under udders in fields of green.
Along hedgerows where I slowly amble,
deep within the ancient knotted bramble
Tree Sparrows flitter and twitter unseen.
Walking with my eyes and heart wide open
silent words unspoken,
the wayside has its own story to tell.
The wild birds' spring symphony holds me
standing here beneath the sunlit cherry
looking through branches at a clear blue sky.
poem by Diana Rosser
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Joy Of Spring
The sky above is shinning blue today,
And sun beams are playfully kissing the earth,
Flowers rise proud its stalks and tell us their stories,
A sleeping nature getting back to life in its glorious way.
The peace of grass rustling in the wind,
Is melting with the twitter of happy birds in trees,
Spring time has come to us again,
A spectacular view my eyes enjoy today.
Trees turn green are budding as life rebirth,
The exuberance of orange, blue, purple, yellow came,
And warm my heart in misterious ways,
With such variety of colours this spring make bold my soul in grace.
New beginnings in our lives have start,
Brought by the refreshment of a sunny march day,
I will never forget what spring time means,
Joy of spring took my breath away again.
poem by Cristina Teodor
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Blue
I guess I saw through you
I've seen your colours blue
Tryin' to join me when I'm on top
Observing what I do
But then you weren't around
I was down and in the ground
Do you remember shut your mouth
Don't wanna hear your sound
Don't you try it
I'm not so forgetful
Your colours are rather dull
It's never gona be
That picture that you want
Of being seen
Blue
That's all you do
Play with people's minds
Two faced
I wasn't blind
I wasn't so blue
Blue
You are a fool because you lost me
I thought that we were cool
Blue and that is deep
I can't be asked
Blue and that is you and that's too long
Blue
Don't you see your colours wrong
You've been there far too long
I see it going on
You've been faking
Trying to be my friend
When all along you were out there
Trying to set a trend
I've
song performed by by Sugababes from Angels With Dirty Faces
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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