Sonnet Of The High Sun
At noon, we stride and walking together
The peace is stronger than the war of now.
A man shall face his maker and neighbour,
Then noon turns dust to stone, due to the cow.
A worker finds one’s heart aflutter since,
May charges be just sent towards disgust;
My cuckoo crawls and sings for that old prince
Who seeks a land of birds, crazy trust!
This land is of those birds in flight across
The seas of fortune, and of course destroy
A noon, when called by some, and not at loss
Are these delights: destroy the very toy!
Our land is awkward and designed by birds
That fly at noon, to shoot across some words.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Triangles
Three triangles of birds crossed
Over the enormous ocean which extended
In winter like a green beast.
Everything just lay there, the silence,
The unfolding gray, the heavy light
Of space, some land now and then.
Over everything there was passing
A flight
And another flight
Of dark birds, winter bodies
Trembling triangles
Whose wings,
Frantically flapping, hardly
Can carry the gray cold, the desolate days
From one place to another
Along the coast of Chile.
I am here while from one sky to another
The trembling of the migratory birds
Leaves me sunk inside myself, inside my own matter
Like an everlasting well
Dug by an immovable spiral.
Now they have disappeared
Black feathers of the sea
Iron birds
From steep slopes and rock piles
Now at noon
I am in front of emptiness. It’s a winter
Space stretched out
And the sea has put
Over its blue face
A bitter mask.
poem by Pablo Neruda
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High Noon
A leather life from the prairie to the blue, blue ocean
A one horse town of promised gold and western fortune
Oh, token slug of bourbon
Time after time
High noon - riding a dream
Lie after lie
High noon - not what they seem
But it only happened in film
Hot dust and lust, a dawn to dusk can lead to danger
I bought a lover locket - a barroom dolly -
Bathtub stranger (swear to me calamity again!)
Sasperella
Red neck fella
Lace umbrella
Be my girl!
When I find the west is won
Got to keep on rolling on and on
Time after time
High noon - riding a dream
Lie after lie
High noon - not what they seem
Mile after mile
High noon - building a dream
Lie after lie
High noon - not what they seem
song performed by by Haircut 100
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Noon Song
There are songs for the morning and songs for the night,
For sunrise and sunset, the stars and the moon;
But who will give praise to the fulness of light,
And sing us a song of the glory of noon?
Oh, the high noon, the clear noon,
The noon with golden crest;
When the blue sky burns, and the great sun turns
With his face to the way of the west!
How swiftly he rose in the dawn of his strength;
How slowly he crept as the morning wore by;
Ah, steep was the climbing that led him at length
To the height of his throne in the wide summer sky.
Oh, the long toil, the slow toil,
The toil that may not rest,
Till the sun looks down from his journey's crown,
To the wonderful way of the west!
Then a quietness falls over meadow and hill,
The wings of the wind in the forest are furled,
The river runs softly, the birds are all still,
The workers are resting all over the world.
Oh, the good hour, the kind hour,
The hour that calms the breast!
Little inn half-way on the road of the day,
Where it follows the turn to the west!
There's a plentiful feast in the maple-tree shade,
The lilt of a song to an old-fashioned tune,
The talk of a friend, or the kiss of a maid,
To sweeten the cup that we drink to the noon.
Oh, the deep noon, the full noon,
Of all the day the best!
When the blue sky burns, and the great sun turns
To his home by the way of the west.
poem by Henry Van Dyke
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To The Land
To the land of bribes,
To the land of telephones,
To the land of corruptions,
To the land of trains,
To the land of shops,
To the land of thieves,
To the land of connections,
To the land of drugs,
To the land of trucks,
To the land of cats,
To the land of Banks,
To the land of dogs, To the land of footballers,
To the land of dragons,
To the land of hope,
To the land of ice-cream,
To the land of potatoes,
To the land of chocolates,
To the land of tomatoes,
To the land of apples,
To the land of coffee,
To the land of lights,
To the land of ships,
To the land of birds,
To the land of tigers,
To the land of carpets,
To the land of pillows,
To the land of lions,
TO the land of toys,
To the land of horses,
To the land of beds,
To the land of roses,
To the land of love,
To the land of passion,
To the land of romance;
I never new women do snore until i married one.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Sometime Sometimes
on a hammock mid noon
you watch a bird's feather fall from the tree
where a nest just let go
two birds,
takes time to land
and you concentrate on the falling
until softly
it lands on a gray rock just beside
the house
sometime
you thinks about sometimes
that light feeling of not being you
you don't know what is it
it sinks in your mind like
a word that you cannot forget
because it is so easy
and yet you misspell it
it is an error of flight
and grossly an error of a bad landing
you close your eyes against the light
and what you see is
as expected
all red
you imagine sunset at mid noon
you imagine the end of life
at the midst of vibrant feeling
what a waste! how times passed so fast...
how many more are like you
daydreaming on a hammock
dreaming about the feather softly landing on the rock portion
of your soul
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Earth Safe
Death paints darkness at noon
Earth not feared of death
Death paints darkness at noon
Sun shines sky so bright
Death paints darkness at noon
unkind eyes dark so blind
Volcanoes erupt, whirl winds kill
Towers collapse thousands peril
Terrors kill, humans destroy
Death paints darkness at noon
Earth not feared of death
Rivers flow, Oceans flow
Nature green, universe calm
Earth safe, safer than ever....
September 4,2008
poem by Rema Prasanaa
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Ezhionum
The haven of the monkey god,
and land of the twelve sept,
that spring from three foundations.
Ezhionum.
The land of the white sand
and strengthened hands
ready to farm.
Ezhionum.
The land of many festival,
bringing sons and daughter
from afar.
Ezhionum.
The land of the quiet noon
and noisy eve
Ezhionum.
The home town of tradition
and masqurade dance.
Ezhionum.
The land of my Father.
The land of my Mother.
Ezhionum.
poem by Enebeli Ifyprada
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Where Are the Birds of Wenzhou, Bei Bei
‘The skies are empty and grey at dawn,
They’re empty and brown at noon,
Where are the birds of Wenzhou, Bei Bei
Deep in the afternoon?
Even at dusk when the air is still
Or the cool breath heaves from the sea,
I wait for the beat of wings then, Bei Bei
Rushing to comfort me.’
‘The birds were once when the paddy fields
Ran down by the river tides,
When the sky was blue and the air was clean
And the trees reached up to the stars.
The birds were here when the skies were clear
No buildings blocked the view...’
‘But where are the birds of Wenzhou, Bei Bei
Why have they gone from you? ’
‘They left when the smog came rolling in
And the insects died on the ground,
When the grass turned white and the acid rain
Caused all the trees to drown.
They left when the river turned yellow mud
And the fields died under the road,
When men built towers of thirty floors,
They left the town in droves.’
The skies are empty and grey at dawn,
They’re empty and brown at noon.
‘The birds of Wenzhou took their nests
And travelled to old Hangzhou.
They went to live by a wondrous lake
That tales will tell, is blue...’
‘Where are the birds of Wenzhou, Bei Bei...
Have they forsaken you? ’
8 November 2005
poem by David Lewis Paget
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The Mocking-Bird
In mirth he mocks the other birds at noon,
Catching the lilt of every easy tune;
But when the day departs he sings of love,--
His own wild song beneath the listening moon.
poem by Henry Van Dyke
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Dreamers
I see trees of Gold
leaves of silver
in my dream land
flowers that sing
birds that dance
hippos do the fandango
and I
cry
tears of joy.
I see the Peace of Angels
hearts which meld
and join at the soul's juncture
in my dream land
I see cats doing cartwheels
dogs which speak Shakespeare
lovers who can fly
each one having one wing
and with these two wings
take flight
which is what love allows
in my dream land
Dark and Light
compliment
rather than contest
plenty abounds
with Community
I write on the walls of caves
and thereby invent Art
I learn to grow food
rather that kill it.
I learn to read
in my dream land
and they
called me crazy.
That is what they always say
about dreamers.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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I Dream'd I Lay
I dream'd I lay where flowers were springing
Gaily in the sunny beam;
List'ning to the wild birds singing,
By a falling crystal stream:
Straight the sky grew black and daring;
Thro' the woods the whirlwinds rave;
Tress with aged arms were warring,
O'er the swelling drumlie wave.
Such was my life's deceitful morning,
Such the pleasures I enjoyed:
But lang or noon, loud tempests storming
A' my flowery bliss destroy'd.
Tho' fickle fortune has deceiv'd me-
She promis'd fair, and perform'd but ill,
Of mony a joy and hope bereav'd me-
I bear a heart shall support me still.
poem by Robert Burns
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My Bleeding
My avenue is bleeding and crazy
With my French nation.
This neighbour is like the island on course
For another land.
The land of troubles.
The land of weight and height.
I like this land, and it is America
Of course.
My rules govern the ending and beginning
Of an everlasting activity,
That of migration sold to action.
This little adventure is too numb
In the ice and cold, but the sun is awkward.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Whose Country Is This?
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of snakes;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of many waters;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of thieves! !
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of people;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of oil;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of earthquakes!
Whose country is this?
it is a land full of lovers;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of volcanoes!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of beautiful flowers;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of hansome men;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of beautiful women;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of roses;
Whose country is this?
it is a land ruled only by men;
Whose country is this?
It is a land without rainfall;
Whose country is this?
It is a land ruled by a woman;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of corruption!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of pirates! !
Whose country is this?
It is a land ruled by law;
Whose country is this?
It is a land controlled by rebels!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of ice;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of pregnant women;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of the sins of Sodom and Gomorrah!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of singers;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of troubles;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of war! !
Whose country is this?
It is a land with the biggest cemetery in the wolrd!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of desert;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of trees;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of pregnant teenagers!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of timber;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of hatred;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of love;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of care;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of peace;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of smokers!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of businesses;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of harlots;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of wise people;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of idiots!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of gold;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of cocoa;
Whose country is this?
It is a alnd full of crabs;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of evil;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of rainfalls;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of ants;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of horses;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of pigs;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of statues;
Whose country is this?
it is a land full of birds;
And so on, and so forth!
Because nature had made them so as we see them around us,
But the wise and fool live together on this earth.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Land, Ho!
I know ’tis but a loom of land,
Yet is it land, and so I will rejoice,
I know I cannot hear His voice
Upon the shore, nor see Him stand;
Yet is it land, ho! land.
The land! the land! the lovely land!
‘Far off,’ dost say? Far off—ah, blessèd home!
Farewell! farewell! thou salt sea-foam!
Ah, keel upon the silver sand—
Land, ho! land.
You cannot see the land, my land,
You cannot see, and yet the land is there—
My land, my land, through murky air—
I did not say ’twas close at hand—
But—land, ho! land.
Dost hear the bells of my sweet land,
Dost hear the kine, dost hear the merry birds?
No voice, ’tis true, no spoken words,
No tongue that thou may’st understand—
Yet is it land, ho! land.
It’s clad in purple mist, my land,
In regal robe it is apparellèd,
A crown is set upon its head,
And on its breast a golden band—
Land, ho! land.
Dost wonder that I long for land?
My land is not a land as others are—
Upon its crest there beams a star,
And lilies grow upon the strand—
Land, ho! land.
Give me the helm! there is the land!
Ha! lusty mariners, she takes the breeze!
And what my spirit sees it sees—
Leap, bark, as leaps the thunderbrand—
Land, ho! land.
poem by Thomas Edward Brown
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I Think About You
I THINK ABOUT YOU EVERY MORNING
I THINK ABOUT YOU, BABE, EVERY NOON
I THINK ABOUT YOU EVERY EVENING
I THINK ABOUT YOU WHEN I LOOK UP AT THE MOON
I DON'T KNOW WHY THE HELL IT HAPPENED
I CAN SAY WE'RE BOTH CRAZY IN THE HEAD
WE FIGHT AND ARGUE ALL THE TIME ABOUT NOTHING
WHEN ALL WE BOTH WANT IS JUST TO BE IN LOVE NOT DEAD
I THINK ABOUT YOU EVERY MORNING
I THINK ABOUT YOU, BABE, EVERY NOON
I THINK ABOUT YOU EVERY EVENING
I THINK ABOUT YOU WHEN I KNOW I'LL SEE YOU SOON
I REALLY KNOW HOW MUCH I LOVE YOU BABY
I KNOW HOW MUCH YOU REALLY LOVE ME, TOO
SO WHY IS IT THEY WE ARE SO WRONG TOGETHER
HOW THE HELL COULD OUR REALITY BE SO CRUEL
I THINK ABOUT YOU EVERY MORNING
I THINK ABOUT YOU, BABE, EVERY NOON
I THINK ABOUT YOU EVERY EVENING
I THINK ABOUT YOU WHENEVER I'M IN TUNE
poem by Talile Ali
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Pollution
Befuddled and be gone
In a creation went wrong.
One lonely star in the deepest night
Bedecked in it's twilight,
The masked words of an ancient song-
The shinning sun at noon
Goes dark without a tune.
While the moon still comes around
Hoping to be found,
As the wild wind blows all into dunes-
Birds won't fly
In an empty sky.
For there is no air
Above a land completely bare,
Where all have left to die-
It's the world we've got
Filled with rot.
The way of mortal man
Changes the original plan,
And all that was, is not-
It may, we pray, come clean in the end
With help from a higher friend.
Still the blue sky goes gray
Awaiting that day,
And the poets beg for help, in the messages they send-
poem by Smoky Hoss
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The Meeting At Noon
They met at a coffee house
every day at noon.
They chose the same table
in the back of the room.
The aroma of the coffee
filled the air.
And while they smelled it
they continued to stare.
How was it, they wondered
that life could be
filled with remorse
that never let them be?
She, with a husband
whose mind was gone,
he, with a wife
whose body was gone,
They met each day
just to hold hands
and talk about
life's harsh demands.
They could not leave.
They were not that kind
but this meeting at noon
became the focus of their mind.
He watched her cry
and touched her face.
He knew her tears
he could not erase.
She watched him die
a little each day.
They prayed for the smell
of the coffee to stay.
and bring them peace
from these minutes at noon.
She stirred his coffee
and licked the spoon.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Love Magical
IF you had been where I have been
(Grey, grey the skies above),
And you had seen what I have seen,
You would not laugh at love.
Seek, seek till you find a rose
Red all through to its petal-tips,
And you shall know the curve of her mouth,
The scent of her breath and the red of her lips.
If you had heard what I have heard
(Dull, dull the beat of the sea).
Your heart would leap like a singing bird
Troubled and thrilled by ecstasy.
Stars sing in the dark o' the night,
Birds sing in the gold o' the noon;
Melody reigned in her speech a queen,
The song of the stars and the birds' tune.
The rose is dead that was her mouth
(Pale, pale on the earth it lies),
And East and West and North and South
The world is full of weeping eyes.
A noon is dark, a star is gone,
A rose is dead, a bird is mute;
And love that made sounds magical
Is silent like a broken lute.
poem by Roderic Quinn
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In The Morning
in the morning
the sounds of the day keep coming
the motors of
mankind
the birds on the
trees on the other hand
what murmur
is there
for existentialism
what dismay is there
for the dusty roads
at noon
where is despair: ?
you raise your hand on your brow
you keep looking
you insist
about its reality
ah, it is not there
and crazy you
you miss it.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Old Man's Lament
The child-sun blazes
through grey morning fog
his passion overpowers
night’s sluggish slog
‘till bright noon’s on fire
with his effervescent love,
but it’s all the same, it’s
all the same.
Morning, noon, and night
may embrace our little lives,
but it’s all the same.
The ancient moon rises
in the fast-fading east.
Bloody sun dies, failed day retreats,
but it’s all the same, it’s all
the same.
Morning, noon, and night
may consume our little lives
but it’s all the same, all
the same.
poem by Steven Federle
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