Fleeting Moment
burning wood
smoke rising to the sky
fog finally leaves
and you see trees and houses
soft wind
touching your skin
fleeting moment
so light upon your heart like a tiptoe
now you remember someone
you wish she will be forgotten
it is sweet and
sour
nothing's changed
despite.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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In The Shade Of The Green Wood
In the shade of the green wood
The holly does grow,
While in soft rays of sunlight
The wild roses glow,
And I smell their sweet perfume
That gently floats by,
Past trees strong and mighty
That reach to the sky,
The pathway of gold autumn
Leaves still remain,
As I walk through the green wood again.
In the shade of the green wood
This bright sunny morn,
That's so cool in the shadows
A new day is born,
All the birds in the treetops
Are singing for me,
Sweet songs of the summer
Which fill me with glee,
And know from its beauty
I never shall part,
For the green wood does live in my heart.
In the shade of the green wood
A soft gentle breeze,
Now caresses the branches
And whispers through trees,
A sound reassuring
Shall carry me to,
All the scenes that exist
In each marvellous view,
It's here that my spirit
Shall always now stay,
And the green wood is guiding my way.
poem by Andrew Blakemore
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Fall
Fall, falling, fallen. That's the way the season
Changes its tense in the long-haired maples
That dot the road; the veiny hand-shaped leaves
Redden on their branches (in a fiery competition
With the final remaining cardinals) and then
Begin to sidle and float through the air, at last
Settling into colorful layers carpeting the ground.
At twilight the light, too, is layered in the trees
In a season of odd, dusky congruences—a scarlet tanager
And the odor of burning leaves, a golden retriever
Loping down the center of a wide street and the sun
Setting behind smoke-filled trees in the distance,
A gap opening up in the treetops and a bruised cloud
Blamelessly filling the space with purples. Everything
Changes and moves in the split second between summer's
Sprawling past and winter's hard revision, one moment
Pulling out of the station according to schedule,
Another moment arriving on the next platform. It
Happens almost like clockwork: the leaves drift away
From their branches and gather slowly at our feet,
Sliding over our ankles, and the season begins moving
Around us even as its colorful weather moves us,
Even as it pulls us into its dusty, twilit pockets.
And every year there is a brief, startling moment
When we pause in the middle of a long walk home and
Suddenly feel something invisible and weightless
Touching our shoulders, sweeping down from the air:
It is the autumn wind pressing against our bodies;
It is the changing light of fall falling on us.
poem by Edward Hirsch
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A Mystery
I have not seen you but you are felt
and feelings are more than touch
though fleeting
and all those that we have not seen
and just touched
are but fleeting
shall i tell you that it is what the leaves sing about
when the wind passes by?
shall i tell you that these are what mysteries are all about?
wind so cold hushing
smoke from the nostrils of the earth fuming
is this what mysterious anger is all about?
something wants to erupt but keeps on postponing
the people have gone away
and you wait in ambush when they all come back
ah, the wind is silent again passing without uttering the words of the sea
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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0018 Man Raking Leaves (re Jim Morrison lyric)
The sound of wooden rake scratching concrete.
walk nearer - rustle of dry leaves.
This, the beginning of a Japanese haiku
or maybe a Japanese film -
dry sound first, then rake, then leaves, then man -
that evokes autumn
too near the heart
to need a title
the sound stops. silence. man leans on rake.
then match strikes, there's almost yes an echo
from the dry leaves not yet fallen from the trees
in the forest all around.
then the first tickle in the nostrils
of burning leaves which
the two-year old scrunching through the trees
hand in hand with older sister
will remember all his life
like the silence between
two lines of a haiku or
the silence of the moment when the seasons turn.
and who can say
what the golden-orange-yellow-brown trees
slowly stripping in a rustle as of silken nightgown
to the tune of, more a whisper than a breeze -
what the trees feel
as the incense of their, their, burning leaves
steals like a last caress
for each such faithful
lover?
poem by Michael Shepherd
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'Til Nothing Comes Between Us
Close your eyes, can you see me...
Rollin' down the Rocky Mountains
Movin' like the wind that sweeps the Kansas plains
I know you're with me
As I make my way through Oklahoma
Pass the barns and weather vanes
There are motels, cafes, fields and billboard signs
A thousand miles of highway
Between your heart and mine...
There will finally come a moment
When one man and one woman
Get everything that they've been waiting for...
I'll take you in my arms again
Feel your skin against my skin
Let the sheet fall slowly to the floor
Til nothing comes between us anymore...
In my soul I can feel you...
As I cross the Mississippi
You're the river flowin' in me
Comin' home I count each heartbeat...
Til the moment we're together
And the distance can't be measured
That's all that keeps me goin'
When I'm gone...
There will finally come a moment
When one man and one woman
Get everything that they've been waiting for...
I'll take you in my arms again
Feel your skin against my skin
Let the sheet fall slowly to the floor
Til nothing comes between us anymore...
Anymore...
There will finally come a moment
When one man and one woman
Get everything that they've been waiting for...
I'll take you in my arms again
Feel your skin against my skin
Let the sheet fall slowly to the floor
Til nothing comes between us anymore...
There will finally come a moment
When one man and one woman
Get everything, everything, everything (Fade out)
song performed by by John Michael Montgomery
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Get Blown Away
And when she blows the candle flame to smoke
She says a prayer for all of those who live in houses and in homes
And Monday she'll go down town standing naked in the road
You may know what I am
But who I am you don't know
She'll run across the mustard dust sand
Scream down the wind
And the sea is in a cold
Like when in holiday homes
And houses like sweet confectionary
And sandcastles and drinking wine
Hungry dinners perfectly timed
And mother and father glowing young
Happy to be each other together
When she blows the candle out
She goes to bed and lies and drags through her head
The day that went way of every day
But tomorrow she'll fly a plane
Over the fields where the houses aren't built yet
She smiled sweetly across the room
Through the lunch time smoke
And I loved her for a second
And discarded the queen and I know
How sweetness turns sour
And leaves they turn to brown
And then to earth and dust
And settle in this town
You get blown away...
(Repeat 1st Half)
She smiled sweetly across the lunch time smoke
And I loved her for a second and discarded the queen and I know
When men are being little boys again
And women cruel step mothers of old
And this is the invention
The adventure of my own
I get blown away...
song performed by by Ocean Colour Scene from Marchin' Already
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Evanescent
who likes to vanish and turn to air?
even moistures don't
they keep on clinging to leaves
like morning dews
but there is this evanescence
of all things
ugly or beautiful
fading feelings fleeting fainting
ecstacies and pains
after love, after love is gone
we all tend also to be imperceptible
scarcely words turn to syllables
commas and period
and then
nothing
who tries to hold my whisper?
your lips? oh they close after
a moment of a little kiss
an opening
who knows what menthol is? what camphor is?
do you still remember how
an old perfume on the side of your ears
smell?
white smoke rising to the ceiling from
a candle light that you have just blown off
you thought there was nothing
there was something and it is still lingering.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Burning Love
(words & music by linde)
Lord almighty,
I feel my temperature rising
Higher higher
Its burning through to my soul
Girl, girl, girl
You gonna set me on fire
My brain is flaming
I dont know which way to go
Your kisses lift me higher
Like the sweet song of a choir
You light my morning sky
With burning love
Ooh, ooh, ooh,
I feel my temperature rising
Help me, Im flaming
I must be a hundred and nine
Burning, burning, burning
And nothing can cool me
I just might turn into smoke
But I feel fine
Cause your kisses lift me higher
Like a sweet song of a choir
And you light my morning sky
With burning love
Its coming closer
The flames are reaching my body
Please wont you help me
I feel like Im slipping away
Its hard to breath
And my chest is a-heaving
Lord almighty,
Im burning a hole where I lay
Cause your kisses lift me higher
Like the sweet song of a choir
You light my morning sky
With burning love
With burning love
Ah, ah, burning love
Im just a hunk, a hunk of burning love
Just a hunk, a hunk of burning love
Just a hunk, a hunk of burning love
Just a hunk, a hunk of burning love
Just a hunk, a hunk of burning love
Just a hunk, a hunk of burning love
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Total Eclipse
I have loved. I have loved.
Not by degree. But totally.
With an intensity
that runs too deep,
that ate haemorrhage heart;
to insidious suffering seat.
I was too young
intensity shattered internally.
You were the last.
Always.
You were the last.
Each gift of love was sweet.
Always.
You. Were the last.
Touch. Your cool confiding fingers
upon suppliant, silent sensitive skin.
Dying. With your teasing touch.
Only thing that took temporarily
away all body burning heat.
Pain I would at vassal vault
shield mortal’s pilgrimage meat.
You. Always you I seek. I seek
in fevered restless sleep.
Skin touching skin
eternally we meet.
I remember I remember
every woman I ever loved.
And what? What do? Do I remember?
I remember everything. In totality.
Years counterpoise fade...
colliding upon, contemporary substituted reality.
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Candle in the Wind
Candle in the Wind
entrancing, entrancing
the way you flicker and flicker
holding on so tenuously
tenaciously to the light of life
to stage a shadow dance
you tiptoe your way so
effortlessly and subtly onto
my heart, my soul, evoking
memories of last autumn
you stepped out of my life,
so sudden, so abrupt, the leaves
strained to hold a a million of your smiles
gliding, trailing, twirling in the winds
your memories now flicker
flicker like the bristles of an artist's brush
that infuses a pastiche of warm
and rueful pathos onto our
fleeting and fluctuating relationships
candle in the wind
I feel like a candle in the wind
holding onto its light
fighting to keep myself alighted,
to make my own existence relevant
candle in the wind
I feel like a candle in the wind
holding onto light
fighting to keep my own
existence relevant
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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A Mothers Bliss
The most amazing thing
I have ever seen
Was the sight of my boy?
For the very first time
Those little hands
And tiny feet
With soft brown eyes
That melted my heart
His skin was soft
His smile so sweet
It made smile
To at last know my life's
Worth while
I was to scared to hold him close
To afraid Id break him some how
But when I finally did
It was a mother's bliss
The joy he brought me
Was beyond anything I'd known
To hold him close
Was a dream come true?
And that one singular moment
Now lives on in my heart
poem by Kaila George
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Mellow Autumn
Autumns rich mellow flavoured air
Unmasked, the trees are now bare.
Seldom do we hear the birds sing
When the Autumn leaves are falling.
Smoke trails from the burning leaves
Carried on the light cool breeze.
The scent of spiced apple days
In the suns golden haze.
The Pine towering heavenly high
Dropping fragrances on passres by.
Smell the crisp refreshing air
Wind is blowing everywhere.
The leaves they scatter without sound
Gently cascading to the ground.
© Hazel
poem by Hazel Connelly
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This House This Home
in this house the music of the night
is the soft rain from the sky falling upon the grass
like tiptoeing mothers watching their young children
sleeping and kissing their foreheads
there is no burning fire here from wood
and there is no smoke from a cigarette
it is dark as usual but it is desirable
even darker as there are no stars tonight
i am not sad
i am at home with myself in this house
i hear the symphony of winds and whispers
from the leaves of trees and the chants of earthworms
it is cold and so i have closed all the windows and doors
& then i curl beneath my blanket of roses
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Come Be With Me
Written by Amy Grant, Co-written by Beth Nielsen Chapman
Baby this life can break your heart
Everyone hurts to some degree
So while this world is falling apart
Why don't you come be with me?
Don't you know that life can be so cold
When you're without the one you need
How much longer do I have to go?
Waiting for you, come be with me
Love can be so simple when you let it flow
Keep it in your head, feel it in your heart
Send it through your soul
Look up at the stars burning bright
Listen to the wind whisper sweet
Heaven and earth know the moment is right
Why don't you come be with me?
(Repeat Refrain)
Look up at the starts burning bright
Listen to the wind whisper sweet
Heaven and earth know the moment is right
Why don't you come be with me?
Heaven and earth know the moment is right
Why don't you come be with me?
song performed by by Amy Grant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Itylus
Swallow, my sister, O sister swallow,
How can thine heart be full of the spring?
A thousand summers are over and dead.
What hast thou found in the spring to follow?
What hast thou found in thine heart to sing?
What wilt thou do when the summer is shed?
O swallow, sister, O fair swift swallow,
Why wilt thou fly after spring to the south,
The soft south whither thine heart is set?
Shall not the grief of the old time follow?
Shall not the song thereof cleave to thy mouth?
Hast thou forgotten ere I forget?
Sister, my sister, O fleet sweet swallow,
Thy way is long to the sun and the south;
But I, fulfilled of my heart's desire,
Shedding my song upon height, upon hollow,
From tawny body and sweet small mouth
Feed the heart of the night with fire.
I the nightingale all spring through,
O swallow, sister, O changing swallow,
All spring through till the spring be done,
Clothed with the light of the night on the dew,
Sing, while the hours and the wild birds follow,
Take flight and follow and find the sun.
Sister, my sister, O soft light swallow,
Though all things feast in the spring's guest-chamber,
How hast thou heart to be glad thereof yet?
For where thou fliest I shall not follow,
Till life forget and death remember,
Till thou remember and I forget.
Swallow, my sister, O singing swallow,
I know not how thou hast heart to sing.
Hast thou the heart? is it all past over?
Thy lord the summer is good to follow,
And fair the feet of thy lover the spring:
But what wilt thou say to the spring thy lover?
O swallow, sister, O fleeting swallow,
My heart in me is a molten ember
And over my head the waves have met.
But thou wouldst tarry or I would follow
Could I forget or thou remember,
Couldst thou remember and I forget.
O sweet stray sister, O shifting swallow,
The heart's division divideth us.
Thy heart is light as a leaf of a tree;
But mine goes forth among sea-gulfs hollow
To the place of the slaying of Itylus,
The feast of Daulis, the Thracian sea.
O swallow, sister, O rapid swallow,
I pray thee sing not a little space.
Are not the roofs and the lintels wet?
The woven web that was plain to follow,
The small slain body, the flower-like face,
Can I remember if thou forget?
O sister, sister, thy first-begotten!
The hands that cling and the feet that follow,
The voice of the child's blood crying yet
Who hath remembered me? who hath forgotten?
Thou hast forgotten, O summer swallow,
But the world shall end when I forget.
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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An Interlude
IN the greenest growth of the Maytime,
I rode where the woods were wet,
Between the dawn and the daytime;
The spring was glad that we met.
There was something the season wanted,
Though the ways and the woods smelt sweet;
The breath at your lips that panted,
The pulse of the grass at your feet.
You came, and the sun came after,
And the green grew golden above;
And the flag-flowers lightened with laughter,
And the meadow-sweet shook with love.
Your feet in the full-grown grasses
Moved soft as a weak wind blows;
You passed me as April passes,
With face made out of a rose.
By the stream where the stems were slender,
Your bright foot paused at the sedge;
It might be to watch the tender
Light leaves in the springtime hedge,
On boughs that the sweet month blanches
With flowery frost of May:
It might be a bird in the branches,
It might be a thorn in the way.
I waited to watch you linger
With foot drawn back from the dew,
Till a sunbeam straight like a finger
Struck sharp through the leaves at you.
And a bird overhead sang Follow,
And a bird to the right sang Here;
And the arch of the leaves was hollow,
And the meaning of May was clear.
I saw where the sun’s hand pointed,
I knew what the bird’s note said;
By the dawn and the dewfall anointed,
You were queen by the gold on your head.
As the glimpse of a burnt-out ember
Recalls a regret of the sun,
I remember, forget, and remember
What Love saw done and undone.
I remember the way we parted,
The day and the way we met;
You hoped we were both broken-hearted,
And knew we should both forget.
And May with her world in flower
Seemed still to murmur and smile
As you murmured and smiled for an hour;
I saw you turn at the stile.
A hand like a white wood-blossom
You lifted, and waved, and passed,
With head hung down to the bosom,
And pale, as it seemed, at last.
And the best and the worst of this is
That neither is most to blame
If you’ve forgotten my kisses
And I’ve forgotten your name.
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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Among the Trees
I wonder lost among the trees
Looking for the one my heart calls for
I wonder lost among the trees
I see your light amongst the dark
I wonder lost among the trees
Your light is brighter then the rest
I wonder lost among the trees
Your light is out of my reach
I wonder lost among the trees
Your light comes closer
I wonder lost among the trees
Your light is bright like an angel from the sky
I wonder lost among the trees
Your light fades away and leaves me alone
I wonder lost among the trees
Without a hand to guide the way
I wonder lost among the trees
Looking for my guiding light
I wonder lost among the trees
I wonder lost, alone
I wonder afraid of the world
Around me I look for the one
I wonder lost among the trees
I wonder lost and alone forever...................................
poem by kelly Martini
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A Memory Of A Red Strawberry
remember me as summer
better still a refreshing summer wind
from a green mountain
remember me as summer
summer strawberry
red, red strawberries
from your fingers to your
mouth to your tongue
sweet, sour, and luscious,
remember me, better remember me
as summer, wind, green mountain,
strawberry, red and luscious
staying in the grassy fields of your
heart and mind
remember me as past summer wind
as a mountain gone, as grass wilting,
as strawberry consumed
each flesh digested all within
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Fire/Burning
Burning through the forset,
Flames of orange, red and yellow,
Lick at the trees and plants,
Scorching everything in its path,
Fire.
Burning my skin,
Leaving smoke and heat,
In it's wake,
Torching my hair,
Fire
A thing of beauty,
And warmth,
But feasr it also,
For its scorching heat,
Fire.
Burning my heart,
Blood fueling the flames,
Love as its oxygen,
The Burning desire,
Fire.
poem by McKenzie Mickey
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I Remember You As You Were
I remember you as you were in the last autumn.
You were the grey beret and the still heart.
In your eyes the flames of the twilight fought on.
And the leaves fell in the water of your soul.
Clasping my arms like a climbing plant
the leaves garnered your voice, that was slow and at peace.
Bonfire of awe in which my thirst was burning.
Sweet blue hyacinth twisted over my soul.
I feel your eyes traveling, and the autumn is far off:
Grey beret, voice of a bird, heart like a house
Towards which my deep longings migrated
And my kisses fell, happy as embers.
Sky from a ship. Field from the hills:
Your memory is made of light, of smoke, of a still pond!
Beyond your eyes, farther on, the evenings were blazing.
Dry autumn leaves revolved in your soul.
poem by Pablo Neruda
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