In the dark forest
Under a mossy stone
Dreams are buried.
quote by by Oskar Hansen
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Voice Of Night
voice....voice of night
in the dark forest
walk by the fear
shadow of trees
the blood curdling masks
for the forest
laughing....
voice of Animals
werewolf in the dark
eyes look at me
side by side
walk with me
walk in the dark forest
shine...
I run, run
for free
shine, , , ,
voices...
werewolfs chace behinde me
scream...
free
shine
runaway,
run
shine
fear
I yelling
werewolfs laughing
voice of happy
cry of fears
shine
free
white stone front me
freedom is only hallucination
freedom is only mirage
freedom is dead end
werewolfs.....
laughing.....
aggress to me
I fear
I cry
My tears in the eart
I look at sky
sky is dark
sky is cloudly
tears....dark rains
I laughing....laughing....laughing
disembowel... .
blood....
dismember
werewolfs...
vo ice of night
howler in the forest
dark sky
freedom
red stone was stone of freedom
die for freedom
die....
poem by Aidin Azarkerdar
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The Voice Of The Willows
Hiding away from the sunlight,
Close by a rippling stream,
Hallowed by childish fancies
And many a waking dream;
There is my royal palace,
Within it my regal throne,
The former, a grave of willows,
The latter, a mossy stone.
And legends of hope did the willows tell
To my childish ears, in that rustic dell.
Here, in my sunny childhood,
I dreamed in my mystic home,
Weaving the fairy garlands
To wear in the years to come.
Friendship, and love, and honour,
They all were to be my own;
The future was strewn with roses,
As I dreamed on my mossy stone.
And still through the leaves, as they fluttered or fell
The breezes sang, in the willow dell.
Visions of hope are departed,
Fairy-like dreams have fled.
The thorns still remain, but the roses,
Like friendship and love, are dead.
The breezes sigh through the willows,
I ponder and dream alone
Of the life beyond the river,
As I sit on my mossy stone.
And the breezes sound like a funeral knell,
As they sigh and sob, through the willow dell.
poem by Thomas E. Spencer
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House and Man
One hour: as dim he and his house now look
As a reflection in a rippling brook,
While I remember him; but first, his house.
Empty it sounded. It was dark with forest boughs
That brushed the walls and made the mossy tiles
Part of the squirrels' track. In all those miles
Of forest silence and forest murmur, only
One house - 'Lonely!' he said, 'I wish it were lonely' -
Which the trees looked upon from every side,
And that was his.
He waved good-bye to hide
A sigh that he converted to a laugh.
He seemed to hang rather than stand there, half
Ghost-like, half like a beggar's rag, clean wrung
And useless on the brier where it has hung
Long years a-washing by sun and wind and rain.
But why I call back man and house again
Is there now a beech-tree's tip I see
As then I saw - I at the gate, and he
In the house darkness, - magpie veering about,
A magpie like a weathercock in doubt.
poem by Edward Thomas
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Ich habe dich nie je so geliebt
I never loved you more, ma soeur
Than as I walked away from you that evening.
The forest swallowed me, the blue forest, ma soeur
The blue forest and above it pale stars in the west.
I did not laugh, not one little bit, ma soeur
As I playfully walked towards a dark fate -
While the faces behind me
Slowly paled in the evening of the blue forest.
Everything was grand that one night, ma soeur
Never thereafter and never before -
I admit it: I was left with nothing but the big birds
And their hungry cries in the dark evening sky.
poem by Bertolt Brecht
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Nature's Night
A scented forest in the dark
Beneath the glowing moon
Dampened now by crystal drops
Because the morning's coming soon
The susurrous of sleeping leaves
Like gentle snoring in the night
Where dreams of sweet fertility
Dance beneath the soft moonlight
I wander free upon the breeze
Entranced by everything I see
By sights and sounds and musty scents
And feel the forest deep in me
Caught inside the sultry dreams
I howl with wolves in joyful song
For here beneath the slumbering stars
Lies the place where I belong
poem by John W Flournoy
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Tragic Kingdom
Once was a magical place
Over time it was lost
Price increased the cost
Now the fortune of the kingdom
Is locked up in its dungeon vaults
The castle floor lies in traps
With coiled wired set back
Decoyed by old cheese
Now the drawbridge has been lifted
As the millions
They drop to their knees
They pay homage to a king
Whose dreams are buried
In their minds
His tears are frozen stiff
Icicles drip from his eyes
The cold wind blows as it snows
On those who fight to get in
On heads that are small
Disillusioned as they enter
They're unaware what's
Behind castle walls
But now it's written in stone
The king has been overthrowned
By jesterly fools
And the power of the people
Shall come to believe they do rule
They pay homage to a king
Whose dreams are buried
In their minds
His tears are frozen stiff
Icicles drip from his eyes
Welcome to the tragic kingdom
Cornfields of popcorn
Have yet to spring open
Have they lost their heads
Or are they just all blind mice
We've heard all their stories
One too many times
Hypnotized by fireflies
That glow in the dark
Midgets that disquise themselves
As tiny little dwarfs
The parade that's electrical
It serves no real purpose
Just takes up a lot of juice
Just to impress us
They pay homage to a king
Whose dreams are buried
In their minds
His tears are frozen stiff
Icicles drip from his eyes
Welcome to the tragic kingdom
Cornfields of popcorn
Have yet to spring open
song performed by by No Doubt from Tragic Kingdom
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On a mossy stone
Minute flowers grow
Old reverie
quote by by Oskar Hansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dark Dreams
Even to this day dark dreams haunt me. Once said by a friend that it was all inside my head. Dark places Dark beings and dead angels are what these dreams consist of.
Screams and deathly cries all because of the Dark king daimao inside. I watch as the innocent get killed and I sand there in a fiery ring. Dark Dreams are what my night consist of..
poem by Joe Johnson
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The magic forest
At the Bois de Boulogne lies magic
Magic that cannot be evitable
Magic that lures people into the evergreen forest
In the forest, soft earth is like a comfy bed
Meadows of grass are green sheets for the bed
If you happen to lie down on the bed
The sunlight hugs your body gently like a mother
Your eyes are heavy weights, unable to keep your eyes open
You fall into the sweetest dream as time goes by…
Night walked into the forest as day walked out of the forest
The pale moon is like a glass eye of a witch staring at you
The dark magic falls into the forest
Lusty monsters fill the magic forest
And the magic forest falls asleep…
My Lullaby (Song)
Close your eyes
Go to sleep.
Find your soul
In arms I'll keep
Dream you Little dark Dream
In your eyes
There's a glow
See your dreams
Now you know
Dream you Little dark Dreams
See your dreams
Come alive
Watch them dance
Through your eyes
Dream you Little dark Dreams
Coming now into eternal
Slumber, Sleep your Life's infernal
Lies called dreams within our sorrow
Never waking for tomorrow
Bow your head
Lay on down
Wipe your tears
Do not frown
Dream Dream Dream Dream Dream Dream
Dream you Little dark Dreams
Tonight.
poem by Sans Serif
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Not Finished
A perfect night
the stars are sparkling bright
staring into the sky,
the little house in the creek
sits nestled under the tall mossy tree
the house aged by nature...beautiful
as the rain starts to pour
the tall mossy tree protects the house and its front door
the mossy tree bears the weight of the sky
as the house is kept dry
more clouds swarm in recklessly
lightning cracks as it sets fire to the tall mossy tree
the tree stands strong....
but i doesn't know if it can last long
as the rain runs down the tree's trunk and roots
like tears
poem by Wandering Scarlet
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As Bronze May Be Much Beautified
As bronze may be much beautified
By lying in the dark damp soil,
So men who fade in dust of warfare fade
Fairer, and sorrow blooms their soul.
Like pearls which noble women wear
And, tarnishing, awhile confide
Unto the old salt sea to feed,
Many return more lustrous than they were.
But what of them buried profound,
Buried where we can no more find.
Who ( )
Lie dark for ever under abysmal war?
poem by Wilfred Owen
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Concentric
Pebble tossed into waters deep
Ripples awakened… from gentle sleep
Concentric rings of force in search
Of mossy banks ‘gainst which to lurch
And said stone sinks deep…deep
To mossy floor…watched by perch
…then seen no more…
Small rock I tossed, wraps silt around
Then snuggles deep into muddy ground
And sudden silence, not a peep!
It calmly falls into stony sleep
On mossy floor…in water deep
To visions of rapids and craggy shore
Watched by tadpoles
…then seen no more…
Pebble tossed into waters dank
By chance and fate, and cosmos swept
At random picked from rocky bank
Like life and Nature's mysteries kept
By chance and fate, by love and hate
We're children not of choice, but chance…
Given only a summary glance
Then seen no more
…no more…
poem by David Whalen
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Einstein, Nicholas, My Fantastic Wife And Our Dog On The Beach At Home
a stone
a relative stone
a meteoric stone
a Newtonian stone
a photoelectric stone
a stone from Manhattan
a thermodynamic stone
one stone
a son
in my life
in my wife
a sun
alone
poem by Nicolas Grenier
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Journey 1. To the Hollow Divine
I can not follow
I can not find
Of this hollow
Which is said to be divine
Through the maw of the Dragons Mouth
Past the high risen tress head south
Listen for water
Find the moss
Search for the statue embossed with an Albatross
Continue westward as directed
Find the stone where the sword was embedded
Bring light to this stone
and it will show you to the back bone
To the back bone of stone must go
Because this is where you find the hollow
When you see the door covered with vines
You must ask politely to enter in a rhyme
If done correctly you shall enter the hollow divine
Step carefully though, your life is hanging on twine
Reaching the stone, I say, ‘Stone anyone home’?
‘I have come a long way and without further delay.
would enjoy to go through and venture this hollow’
As the directions did spake, there came an earthquake
And cracked the stone in two
Timidly and cautiously and looking about
I tip toed silently through
A wondrous light and marvelous sight
Was beheld before my very eyes
Nothing was here that I detest or despise
Only the dreams I had the wishes I made
As if crafted by God and was gently laid
They were real, they were living
And in most cases breathing
I ran to them quick
I ran to them with glee
Although I sensed that I must flee
After three steps, my dreams turned on me
They became nightmares, evil ghosts and spirits
I must leave now I have forsaken my visit
I ran to the door
Which did not stretch evermore
Back to the forest through hole I see
I could feel the nightmares breath trailing behind me
With a jump I leapt
Through the whole where dreams are kept
I slid on the ground and quickly turned round
To see the stone with vines wrapped around
I looked to the stone and sank to the ground
Realizing the mistake that was bound to occur
I asked to come in, that was not obscure
But I did not thank the hollow for that I am sure
Thats why my dreams turned on me, with thoughts of murder
This quest is over, the next shall begin
But back to the inn, where tonight I shall din
I don’t know where after I shall go
Though definitely not here, back to the hollow
Written: October 13,2011
by Ryan Collins
poem by Ryan Collins
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Unicorns and Myth
Many moons ago, England had its myths,
Stories of fairies, leprechauns and unicorns,
Who lived in a mythological land,
Where mystery and magic still stand,
For the forest were dark and dangerous places,
The unsuspecting walking through their depths,
Knowing the magical creatures watching over their steps,
Protecting them from the devil that hides in the dark,
Shadows waiting in the tall trees,
But nature has always had its power in magic,
White witches harnessing nature's secret power,
The plants and trees that surround and fill the forest,
Magic and myth to be found in the dark green leaves,
For the forest contains many secrets,
Many secrets where unicorns run at the witching hour,
Or the moon sharing her secret power,
And there are many beautiful flowers,
Blooming, even in the dark,
The fairies sprinkling their magic dust,
To make mushrooms and petals grow,
The forest rich with its vast, magical beauty,
That has captured the imagination of all who see.
poem by Paula Glynn
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He Sees Through Stone
He sees through stone
he has the secret
eyes this old black one
who under prison skies
sits pressed by the sun
against the western wall
his pipe between purple gums
the years fall
like overripe plums
bursting red flesh
on the dark earth
his time is not my time
but I have known him
in a time gone
he led me trembling cold
into the dark forest
taught me the secret rites
to make it with a woman
to be true to my brothers
to make my spear drink
the blood of my enemies
now black cats circle him
flash white teeth
snarl at the air
mashing green grass beneath
shining muscles
ears peeling his words
he smiles
he knows
the hunt the enemy
he has the secret eyes
he sees through stone
poem by Etheridge Knight
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Lonely Tree
A lonely tree
On a lonely hill
Wishes to be
A forest still
Thou all alone
It dreams of more
Of seedlings grown
From its forest floor
Their branches growing
Ever climbing high
So feverish flowing
To reach blue sky
Covering this land
Beyond its view
A forest grand
All fresh and new
A sight to behold
It would surely be
A dream so bold
For such a lonely tree.
“closing thought”
A family is like a forest that continues to grow
From a lone simple seedling it outwardly flows
poem by Gordon Jerome
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Fairy
Somehow we run in the dark forest
No light, no sight, just night
But my heart's still searching for a hope
To fight, for right
And then all's shiny like fairy
In the circle, in the middle
of the forest
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Rainy Day Women #12 & 35
Well, they'll stone ya when you're trying to be so good,
They'll stone ya just a-like they said they would.
They'll stone ya when you're tryin' to go home.
Then they'll stone ya when you're there all alone.
But i would not feel so all alone,
Everybody must get stoned.
Well, they'll stone ya when you're walkin' 'long the street.
They'll stone ya when you're tryin' to keep your seat.
They'll stone ya when you're walkin' on the floor.
They'll stone ya when you're walkin' to the door.
But i would not feel so all alone,
Everybody must get stoned.
They'll stone ya when you're at the breakfast table.
They'll stone ya when you are young and able.
They'll stone ya when you're tryin' to make a buck.
They'll stone ya and then they'll say, "good luck."
Tell ya what, i would not feel so all alone,
Everybody must get stoned.
Well, they'll stone you and say that it's the end.
Then they'll stone you and then they'll come back again.
They'll stone you when you're riding in your car.
They'll stone you when you're playing your guitar.
Yes, but i would not feel so all alone,
Everybody must get stoned.
Well, they'll stone you when you walk all alone.
They'll stone you when you are walking home.
They'll stone you and then say you are brave.
They'll stone you when you are set down in your grave.
But i would not feel so all alone,
Everybody must get stoned.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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