Looking For Stones
He is in a forlorn setting, the gender of the place
Is unknown, as a gemstone is situated in it.
He is a glutton for excessive moods,
The moods are foreshown by the surroundings.
The stones became glutinous to the soul,
With the use of hackneyed phrases.
One day he was feeling glum,
The other day, the next day, he was a heap of bad luck.
Then it was hair care, not the massage of precious stones,
But the minatory speech of his hunters
Ready to see him from the minarets.
He was an antithesis to a peaceful setting,
Affected by a communal gathering in the past
That convened in a corridor.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Mood Colours
At times, we describe our moods in colours
that pass by our eyes each day.
There are our blue moods,
those when we are down.
Then there are our red moods
whenever our temper flares.
Our black moods are colourless
and the most dangerous of them all.
Our sunshine moods are when the world is golden
and smiles are all we see.
Pink shades our loving moods
and to the world, we show we care
as our love shines through.
Our moods can change quickly
as we pass through the rainbow spectrum
within our daily lives.
15 January 2009
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Gold
Looks as if youre dropping mirrors by the gross
Looks as if your nine lives have left town
When you paint in grey and drear
Eldorado wont appear
To run his sword through all the fears that pull you down
And its okay, for the setting sun
Will colour everything around you gold
And its okay, for the setting sun
Will colour everything around you gold
Looks as if you need a lighthouse in your dark
Looks as if Im now your native guide
When the fog is drawing in
Snarling dragons break to grin
And trample over all the things that pull you down
And its okay . . .
And all those pebbles in your shoes are precious stones
And all the skeletons in closets
Merely piles of harmless bones
. . . and its okay, as the setting sun
Will colour everything around you gold
Even though its brown, youll
See your old brick town go gold
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Gold
Looks as if youre dropping mirrors by the gross
Looks as if your nine lives have left town
When you paint in grey and drear
Eldorado wont appear
To run his sword through all the fears that pull you down
And its okay, for the setting sun
Will colour everything around you gold
And its okay, for the setting sun
Will colour everything around you gold
Looks as if you need a lighthouse in your dark
Looks as if Im now your native guide
When the fog is drawing in
Snarling dragons break to grin
And trample over all the things that pull you down
And its okay . . .
And all those pebbles in your shoes are precious stones
And all the skeletons in closets
Merely piles of harmless bones
. . . and its okay, as the setting sun
Will colour everything around you gold
Even though its brown, youll
See your old brick town go gold
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rucksack Full Of Stones
A Babe…
Born perfect, innocent, ready
Cast into a corrupt world
Parents eagerly present
A family heirloom
A patchwork rucksack
Part-filled with stones
To a wide-eyed child
Begins the journey…
Child given stones of many shapes, sizes
Stones of pity, sorrow, fear, trauma
Stones filled with words like “No”
Stones filled with ugly phrases
Stones filled with abuse, punishment, pain
Rucksack seams burgeon
A growing Soul shouts
“Enough”
Emptying begins…
Through lessons, experiences, prayer
One by one
Removed the stones
Rucksack lightens
By the Grace of God,
Finally emptied
Another Babe born
Rucksack beckons
“Not this time”
Rucksack flung
Into Wisdom’s Fire
Consumed
Ends a vicious cycle…
poem by Ray Lucero
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Moods For Moderns
Moods for moderns (x4)
I get hit looking for a miss
I never thought that it would come to this
Moods for moderns (x4)
Though we may never be the same again
I am so proud that youve been taken in vain
What if none of your dreams come true?
I can never run from you
Theres never been a how dyou do
Theres never been an ending
Soon youll belong to someone else
And I will be your stranger just pretending
Moods for moderns
Memory lingers
I let you into
Foreign fingers
Moods for moderns (x4)
I never thought that would see the day
I never thought that I would give you away
(chorus)
Moods for moderns
Let them break us
Strong and sudden
Foreign fingers
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Just Beyond The Setting Sun
Just beyond the setting sun
lies a land where green leaves grow.
Just beyond the setting sun
seasons different come and go.
A warmly place
of peace and tranquillity.
Just beyond the setting sun
lies a home for you and me.
A place of no worries
where life is idyllic
to spawn generations to come,
warm in the summer sun
and cool as winter comes.
Just beyond the setting sun
lies a home we always wanted,
a paradise of beauty,
fulfilment and tranquillity.
Just beyond the setting sun
where our dreams come from.
There within those pastures green
lies our future destiny,
just over the horizon,
just beyond the setting sun.
26 July 2009
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Proving To Be Rude
Some people don't think of luck,
Because they believe for them luck sucks.
And they seek to search for a life,
That drips upon them obvious fortunes.
And when those fortunes,
For them are prayed...
Are overdue in delivery and much delayed,
They give up on a committed faith.
Until that faith devotedly prayed,
Slips from their loyalty and fades away.
They become crude with attitude.
And strike to bite like barricudas.
Shifting in their pleasant moods.
And proving to be rude too!
Some people don't think of luck,
Because they believe for them luck sucks.
And they seek a life of fortune quick.
No matter if the getting of it,
Is corrupt, vicious and a bit mentally sick.
People self centered like this,
Can strike to bite like barricudas.
Shifting in their pleasant moods.
And proving to be rude too!
People self centered like this...
Corrupt, vicious and a bit mentally sick,
Could care less...
Who is victimize by their wickedness.
And...
They will strike to bite like barricudas.
Shifting in their pleasant moods.
And proving to be rude too!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Setting The Woods On Fire
Comb your hair and paint and powder
You act proud and Ill act prouder
You sing loud and Ill sing louder
Tonight were setting the woods on fire
You my gal and Im your feller
Dress up in your frock of yeller
Ill look swell but youll look sweller
Setting the woods on fire
Well take in all the honkey tonks
Tonihgt were having fun
Well show the folks a brand new dance
That never has been done
I dont care who thinks were silly
You be daffy and Ill be dilly
Well order up to bowls of chili
Setting the woods on fire
Ill gas up my hot rod stocker
Well get hotter than a poker
Youll be broke but Ill be broker
Tonight were setting the woods on fire
Well sit close to one another
Up the one street and down the other
Well have a time o brother
Setting the woods on fire
Well put aside a little time
To fix a flat or two
My tires and tubes are doing fine
But the air is showing through
You clap hands and Ill start bowing
Well do all the laws allowin
Tomorrow Ill be right back plowing
Setting the woods on fire
song performed by by Hank Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Settin The Woods On Fire
Comb your hair and paint and powder
You act proud and Ill act prouder
You sing loud and Ill sing louder
Tonight were setting the woods on fire
You my gal and Im your feller
Dress up in your frock of yeller
Ill look swell but youll look sweller
Setting the woods on fire
Well take in all the honkey tonks
Tonihgt were having fun
Well show the folks a brand new dance
That never has been done
I dont care who thinks were silly
You be daffy and Ill be dilly
Well order up to bowls of chili
Setting the woods on fire
Ill gas up my hot rod stocker
Well get hotter than a poker
Youll be broke but Ill be broker
Tonight were setting the woods on fire
Well sit close to one another
Up the one street and down the other
Well have a time o brother
Setting the woods on fire
Well put aside a little time
To fix a flat or two
My tires and tubes are doing fine
But the air is showing through
You clap hands and Ill start bowing
Well do all the laws allowin
Tomorrow Ill be right back plowing
Setting the woods on fire
song performed by by Hank Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Loving You Forever
The sun is slowly setting.
The sunset is magnificent with the different shades of pink and red spread across the sky.
I touch your cheek and notice just how pale it really is.
The sun is slowly setting.
My smile falters as you hush my voice and murmur time is short.
My mind is telling me to leave, but my heart is pleading me to stay.
The sun is slowly setting.
You grab my hand and draw me close to you.
I look into your eyes, and search for something evil, but all I see is love.
The sun is slowly setting.
I lean my head against your chest and take in all your love.
You wrap your arms around me and tell me not to be afraid.
The sun is slowly setting.
Shadows are falling all around us, enclosing us in darkness.
An eerie breeze causes a chill to scurry up my spine.
The sun is slowly setting.
The time has come; you tilt my face up towards yours and tell me that you love me.
My heart is beating fast now as I say it in return.
The sun is slowly setting.
Your eyes are open and I see that they are masked with fear, and yet, love still shines through.
You smile and a flow of dawning realization rushes throughout my system.
The sun is slowly setting.
I try to scream, but my speech has been impaired.
I try to run, but my feet remain in place.
The sun is slowly setting.
You tell me not to worry, and that everything’s all right.
You take my hand in yours and move it to your heart.
The sun is slowly setting.
I feel myself relax as I tilt my head, allowing my neck to be vulnerable.
I feel a prick of pain against my neck, and then a rush of warmth and love overcomes me.
The sun is slowly setting.
The coldness is no longer my concern, for I feel no breeze against my pale skin.
Never will anything be my concern, for now we are together, for all eternity.
The sun is slowly setting.
At last the sun has subsided into the earth.
Above us, the sky is black, and at peace.
Loving You Forever
The sun is slowly setting.
The sunset is magnificent with the different shades of pink and red spread across the sky.
I touch your cheek and notice just how pale it really is.
The sun is slowly setting.
My smile falters as you hush my voice and murmur time is short.
My mind is telling me to leave, but my heart is pleading me to stay.
The sun is slowly setting.
You grab my hand and draw me close to you.
I look into your eyes, and search for something evil, but all I see is love.
The sun is slowly setting.
I lean my head against your chest and take in all your love.
You wrap your arms around me and tell me not to be afraid.
The sun is slowly setting.
Shadows are falling all around us, enclosing us in darkness.
An eerie breeze causes a chill to scurry up my spine.
The sun is slowly setting.
The time has come; you tilt my face up towards yours and tell me that you love me.
My heart is beating fast now as I say it in return.
The sun is slowly setting.
Your eyes are open and I see that they are masked with fear, and yet, love still shines through.
You smile and a flow of dawning realization rushes throughout my system.
The sun is slowly setting.
I try to scream, but my speech has been impaired.
I try to run, but my feet remain in place.
The sun is slowly setting.
You tell me not to worry, and that everything’s all right.
You take my hand in yours and move it to your heart.
The sun is slowly setting.
I feel myself relax as I tilt my head, allowing my neck to be vulnerable.
I feel a prick of pain against my neck, and then a rush of warmth and love overcomes me.
The sun is slowly setting.
The coldness is no longer my concern, for I feel no breeze against my pale skin.
Never will anything be my concern, for now we are together, for all eternity.
The sun is slowly setting.
At last the sun has subsided into the earth.
Above us, the sky is black, and at peace
poem by Chidiebere Franklin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Brain Of Yours
Brain surgeons compel our moods from escaping,
In order to painfully understand our moods and amazing.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Air is a Root
The air is a root.
The stones are filled with tenderness. bravo.
bravo. the stones are filled with air.
the stones are watery branches.
on the stones replacing the mouth
grows the skeleton of a leaf. bravo.
A stone voice face to face and foot to foot
with a stone glance.
the stones are tormented like flesh
the stones are clouds for their second
nature dances to them on their third nose.
bravo. bravo.
when the stones scratch themselves, nails grow
on the roots. bravo. bravo.
the stones woke to eat the exact
hour
She
She grew up without very much
She didn't know who her father was
She met a boy and her heart he stole
So she gave him all her body and soul
She's not ready to face
The outcome of their mistake
It's brought her nothing but pain
And she's too young for this fate
SHE'S ALONE
CAUGHT UP IN THE UNDERTOW
WHERE IT TAKES HER NO ONE KNOWS
THAT'S HOW IT GOES, THAT'S HOW IT GOES
WHEN WE THROW STONES
People denied and criticized
They sent her away isolated
Caught in a bad dream, her plea rejected
They left her alone and neglected
They put her out on display
Showcasing all her mistakes
She's worn out and she's afraid
Why does it always happen this way?
[refrain]
She went to them for help
But blindly they cast the first stone
They could have taken her in
Instead they left her on her own
All alone
[refrain]
When we throw stones at the wounded
We throw stones at the brokenhearted
That's how it goes when we throw stones
song performed by by ZoeGirl
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Unknown
This unknown figure...
This unknown place...
Where am I at anyways?
This unknown feeling that I have,
This unknown pain inside;
I can't run away from.
Unknown heart, Unknown soul,
All unknown and all gone.
Sadden by all of this and all that's left..
Is me with no feeling...
I'm gone and lost and can't find a way out!
I'm an unknown person,
And an unknown girl who can't be seen.
I'm invisible, I'm a nobody,
I'm an unknown figure to people.
I'm gone forever and ever...right?
poem by Jessica Lee
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Stones
Stones
Stones would play inside her head
And where she slept,
They made her bed
And she would ache
For love and get but stones
La la la la la la la la la
Lordy, child
A good days comin
And Ill be there to let the sun in
And bein lost
Is worth the comin home
La la la la la la la la la on stones
You and me, a time for planting
You and me, a harvest granting
The every prayer ever prayed
For just two wild flowers that grow
La la la la la la la la la on stones
Mmmmmmmm.....
song performed by by Neil Diamond
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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At The End Of Another Day
The clouds were in line,
like stepping-stones from the horizon,
painted pink and grey
from the setting sun
at the end of another day.
19 February 2008
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poem (‘It Doesn’t Look Like A Finger...’)
It doesn’t look like a finger it looks like a feather of broken glass
It doesn’t look like something to eat it looks like something eaten
It doesn’t look like an empty chair it looks like an old woman
searching in a heap of stones
It doesn’t look like a heap of stones it looks like an estuary where
the drifting filth is swept to and fro on the tide
It doesn’t look like a finger it looks like a feather with broken teeth
The spaces between the stones are made of stone
It doesn’t look like a revolver it looks like a convolvulus
It doesn’t look like a living convolvulus it looks like a dead one
KEEP YOUR FILTHY HANDS OFF MY FRIENDS USE THEM ON
YOUR BITCHES OR
YOURSELVES BUT KEEP THEM OFF MY FRIENDS
The faces between the stones are made of bone
It doesn’t look like an eye it looks like a bowl of rotten fruit
It doesn’t look like my mother in the garden it looks like my father
when he came up from the sea covered in shells and tangle
It doesn’t look like a feather it looks like a finger with broken wings
It doesn’t look like the old woman’s mouth it looks like a handful
of broken feathers or a revolver buried in cinders
The faces beneath the stones are made of stone
It doesn’t look like a broken cup it looks like a cut lip
It doesn’t look like yours it looks like mine
BUT IT IS YOURS NOW
SOON IT WILL LOOK LIKE YOURS
AND ANYTHING YOU SEE WILL BE USED AGAINST YOU
London Bulletin, No. 2 (May 1938), 7.
poem by Hugh Sykes Davies
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A Study In Feeling
To be a great musician you must be a man of moods,
You have to be, to understand sonatas and etudes.
To execute pianos and to fiddle with success,
With sympathy and feeling you must fairly effervesce;
It was so with Paganini, Remenzi and Cho-pang,
And so it was with Peterkin Von Gabriel O’Lang.
Monsieur O’Lang had sympathy to such a great degree.
No virtuoso ever lived was quite so great as he;
He was either very happy or very, very sad;
He was always feeling heavenly or oppositely bad;
In fact, so sympathetic that he either must enthuse
Or have the dumps; feel ecstacy or flounder in the blues.
So all agreed that Peterkin Von Gabriel O’Lang
Was the greatest violinist in the virtuoso gang.
The ladies bought his photographs and put them on the shelves
In the place of greatest honor, right beside those of themselves;
They gladly gave ten dollars for a stiff backed parquette chair.
And sat in mouth-wide happiness a-looking at his hair.
I say 'a looking at his hair,' I mean just what I say,
For no one ever had a chance to hear P. O’Lang play;
So subtle was his sympathy, so highly strung was he,
His moods were barometric to the very last degree;
The slightest change of weather would react upon his brain,
And fill his soul with joyousness or murder it with pain.
And when his soul was troubled he had not the heart to play.
But let his head droop sadly down in such a soulful way,
That every one that saw him declared it was worth twice
(And some there were said three times) the large admission price;
And all were quite unanimous and said it would be crude
For such a man to fiddle when he wasn’t in the mood.
But when his soul was filled with joy he tossed his flowing hair
And waved his violin-bow in great circles in the air;
Ecstaticly he flourished it, for so his spirit thrilled,
Thus only could he show the joy with which his heart was filled;
And so he waved it up and down and ’round and out and in,—
But he never, never, NEVER touched it to his violin!
poem by Ellis Parker Butler
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Death Of A Poet
Laid now on his smooth bed
For the last time, watching dully
Through heavy eyelids the day's colour
Widow the sky, what can he say
Worthy of record, the books all open,
Pens ready, the faces, sad,
Waiting gravely for the tired lips
To move once -- what can he say?
His tongue wrestles to force one word
Past the thick phlegm; no speech, no phrases
For the day's news, just the one word ‘sorry';
Sorry for the lies, for the long failure
In the poet's war; that he preferred
The easier rhythms of the heart
To the mind's scansion; that now he dies
Intestate, having nothing to leave
But a few songs, cold as stones
In the thin hands that asked for bread.
Submitted by Andrew Mayers
poem by Ronald Stuart Thomas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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