Night Bends
Now darkness ponds upon the violet hills;
cicadas sing; the tall elms gently sway;
and night bends near, a deepening shade of gray;
the bass concerto of a bullfrog fills
what silence there once was; globed searchlights play.
Green hanging ferns adorn dark window sills,
all drooping fronds, awaiting morning’s flares;
mosquitoes whine; the lissome moth again
flits like a veiled oud-dancer, and endures
the fumblings of night’s enervate gray rain.
And now the pact of night is made complete;
the air is fresh and cool, washed of the grime
of the city’s ashen breath; and, for a time,
the fragrance of her clings, obscure and sweet.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Green And Gray
I'm in a room full of people, hanging on one person's breath. We would all vote him most likely to be loved to death. I hope he still wants it, but it might remind him of when, he aimed for the bulls eye and hit it nine times out of ten. That one time his hand slipped, and I saw the dart sail away. I don't know where it landed, but I'm guessing between green and gray. We thought nothing of it, but it still haunts him like a ghost. With all eyes upon him, except two that matter the most.
He says "Green is the color everyone sees al around me. Gray is the color I see around her, and she's just a blur." The more the corwd cheers, the less I can hear and they don't really care what I play. It might be for her. But for now it's between green and gray.
We paid and we cheered. Now we're gone and to us that feels right. But for him every one of those evenings turns into a night. With another hotel room where he lays awake to pretend that he's doing fine with his notebook and discman for friends.
He says "Green is the color everyone sees al around me. Gray is the color I see around her, and she's just a blur." Night after night what I hear, what I write fills the room and my head starts to sway. It might be for her, but for now it's between green and gray.
I want you to love me, he whispers, unable to speak. And he wonders aloud why feelings so strong make the body so weak. Then he awoke. Now he's scared to death somebody heard. If it was you, and you know her, please don't say a word.
song performed by by Nickel Creek
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Green & Gray
Im in a room full of people, hanging on one persons breath.
We would all vote him most likely to be loved to death.
I hope he still wants it, but it might remind him of when,
He aimed for the bulls eye and hit it nine times out of ten.
That one time his hand slipped, and I saw the dart sail away.
I dont know where it landed, but Im guessing between green and gray.
We thought nothing of it, but it still haunts him like a ghost.
With all eyes upon him, except two that matter the most.
He says green is the color everyone sees al around me.
Gray is the color I see around her, and shes just a blur.
The more the corwd cheers, the less I can hear
And they dont really care what I play. it might be for her.
But for now its between green and gray.
We paid and we cheered. now were gone and to us that feels right.
But for him every one of those evenings turns into a night.
With another hotel room where he lays awake to pretend
That hes doing fine with his notebook and discman for friends.
He says green is the color everyone sees al around me.
Gray is the color I see around her, and shes just a blur.
Night after night what I hear, what I write fills the room
And my head starts to sway. it might be for her,
But for now its between green and gray.
I want you to love me, he whispers, unable to speak.
And he wonders aloud why feelings so strong make the body so weak.
Then he awoke. now hes scared to death somebody heard.
If it was you, and you know her, please dont say a word.
song performed by by Nickel Creek
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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City Night
Night is lively.
Night is stunning
Night is pleasurable.
Night is sugary like apple pie.
Night is walking towards with hobo.
Night will never end.
Night is dark.
Night is now simple, sweet, calm, amusing.
I am in love with this city night.
City is covered with this pleasant night.
Night is having the shine of city.
Night is getting wilder.
Night is getting cruel.
Time will never stop running.
Night will over with the time.
Another night will come in this city.
I am waiting for the night.
Here city shed tears
Here city chuckle like a little kid.
Here city dance with the mysterious wind.
I am in love with this city night.
Night never stops coming.
Night will never break its rule.
It will come over and over in this cold blooded city.
But I will never stop loving this city night.
Night is resting.
It will come again into my little black book.
poem by Farzana Hossain
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Them Cool Green Leaves
Them cool green leaves
That comes around
When spring breezy breeze
Is again here found
And night becomes like day
With its reddish sky
When song birds sing and play
In the twilight high
Them cool green days
When a heart beat's found
With playing soft haze
To the earth all bound
And the dark night's stray
Has said its goodbye
When love is okay
And blue is our time's sky
Refrain
Just listen to the songs
That flow so smoothly on
The many sing-alongs
Those never from life are gone
Every tune that fills the air
With beautiful tender plays
And we together share
In many different ways
Them Cool Green Leaves
That comes around
When spring breezy breeze
Is again here found
And night becomes like day
With its reddish sky
When song birds sing and play
In the twilight high
Refrain
* Peter S. Quinn - Them Cool Green Leaves Free Mp3 Download
http: //peter-s-quinn-them-cool-green-leaves-mp3-downlo ad.kohit.net/_/319663
(There are over 50 different texts written on this poem, this one made now, as I was listening…[will be revised later on, perhaps] I hope you enjoy it; -)
poem by Peter S. Quinn
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0029 This night, this night of endless miracle
On this Mediterranean night with its light breeze
scented with the sun-warmed herbs
drifting down from cooling, stony hills,
a million stars you’ve never seen before
shine on a million crickets singing
as if from eternity to eternity
and you cannot say, and there’s
no need to say, which is which;
the trembling of the stars,
the susurration of cicadas,
join as in endless praise
of the imagination of their maker
who made imagination too
and though the cicadas, singing, may never know
that the stars they sing to
are shining from a thousand years ago
and though the stars may never know
that the cicadas that they shine upon
are a thousand years here from their now,
it’s all known, to the mind that made the vines
that made the grapes that made the wine
singing in my veins tonight
like cicadas susurrating in the starlight
as you hear them now
this night, this night of endless miracle
poem by Michael Shepherd
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My Poem Came To Me In The Night
MY POEM CAME TO ME IN THE NIGHT
My poem came to me in the night
Long after I should have gone to sleep
It came with darkness inside and a fear of darkness deeper still-
It was a poem of the end of the earth
A dark poem
The last poem of the day and perhaps the last poem of forever-
It came to me in the night
And made me write it down gently
And said because there is no time left
It is impossible to add on to it
Or give it true character and feeling.-
The poem of the night and its darkness
Stilled me into vulnerable silence
And I slept and went to sleep
Far from the page I wrote.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Dusk
Now is the healing, quiet hour that fills
This gay, green world with peace and grateful rest.
Where lately over opalescent hills
The blood of slain Day reddened all the west,
Now comes at Night's behest,
A glow that over all the forest spills,
As with the gold of promised daffodils.
Of all hours this is best.
It is time for thoughts of holy things,
Of half-forgotten friends and one's own folk.
O'er all, the garden-scented sweetness clings
To mingle with the wood fire's drifting smoke.
A bull-frog's startled croak
Sounds from the gully where the last bird sings
His laggard vesper hymn, with folded wings;
And night spreads forth her cloak.
Keeping their vigil where the great range yearns,
Like rigid sentries stand the wise old gums.
On blundering wings a night-moth wheels and turns
And lumbers on, mingling its drowsy hums
With that far roll of drums,
Where the swift creek goes tumbling amidst the ferns...
Now, as the first star in the zenith burns,
The dear, soft darkness comes.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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A Night-Rain in Summer
Open the window, and let the air
Freshly blow upon face and hair,
And fill the room, as it fills the night,
With the breath of the rain's sweet might.
Hark! the burthen, swift and prone!
And how the odorous limes are blown!
Stormy Love's abroad, and keeps
Hopeful coil for gentle sleeps.
Not a blink shall burn to-night
In my chamber, of sordid light;
Nought will I have, not a window-pane,
'Twixt me and the air and the great good rain,
Which ever shall sing me sharp lullabies;
And God's own darkness shall close mine eyes;
And I will sleep, with all things blest,
In the pure earth-shadow of natural rest.
poem by James Henry Leigh Hunt
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The Edge
I thought to die that night in the solitude where they would never find me…
But there was time…
And I lay quietly on the drawn knees of the mountain,
staring into the abyss…
I do not know how long…
I could not count the hours, they ran so fast
Like little bare-foot urchins - shaking my hands away…
But I remember
Somewhere water trickled like a thin severed vein…
And a wind came out of the grass,
Touching me gently, tentatively, like a paw.
As the night grew
The gray cloud that had covered the sky like sackcloth
Fell in ashen folds about the hills,
Like hooded virgins, pulling their cloaks about them…
There must have been a spent moon,
For the Tall One's veil held a shimmer of silver…
That too I remember…
And the tenderly rocking mountain
Silence
And beating stars…
Dawn
Lay like a waxen hand upon the world,
And folded hills
Broke into a sudden wonder of peaks, stemming clear and cold,
Till the Tall One bloomed like a lily,
Flecked with sun,
Fine as a golden pollen -
It seemed a wind might blow it from the snow.
I smelled the raw sweet essences of things,
And heard spiders in the leaves
And ticking of little feet,
As tiny creatures came out of their doors
To see God pouring light into his star…
… It seemed life held
No future and no past but this…
And I too got up stiffly from the earth,
And held my heart up like a cup…
poem by Lola Ridge
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Nightly Theme
Night time comes
So ending the day of others
Ending The Daylight I call Hell
The Darkness comforting me
The Dark sky shows its beauty
Infused Blue, True Black and gray
Mixed up to make the starry Night sky
The Night supporting how Antisocial I am.
Scaring the Fake, Hypocritical Humans away
Afraid of the reflecting dark sky
which makes them flee.
The streets clear, Quiet depressing
The Night knows me
The Night sky rewards me with its Starry sky
which I paint with my eyes and personality
The Night is my world, which I know and Love
The Stars are rare but show to shine as do I
Emotions and words are my only weapons at Night
Nightly theme
The greatest Theme on me
The time where I revile the true me
The world of Night has Darkness
Real people
Depression
Judgment
Devious activities.
Murder
The Greatest things during Night
Im never lonely, I have the Darkness
The Moon to keep watch
The touch of Gray on every object
and my Dark personality
The Red moon
The god of The Night world
watches as Murder happen
controls every event
gives and Bloody Murder aura
The theme I love to observe
The Night is my world
I die when I born when the Daylight touched me
and was reincarnated by the Night
Night Theme
Night
The Time karma is killed
The time all my sins are out
The time real People come out
Fake people run to hide
Night is my world
poem by Marcellus Watts
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Prelude to autumn! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
As the monsoon recedes, with vengeance
Sun livid strikes back, but gives up pretence
By mid noon, it retreats and westwards race,
Far from city scape, it slips leaving no trace.
Dusk falls at six, in blows a gentle breeze.
Festive season on, feel like drape silk weaves.
House is plunged in the darkness, but moon beams
Gently descend and rest on leaves it seems.
My upturned face is touched by their caress
Palm fronds swing and night strolls in at its pace.
Cicadas have made a quiet exit with the rain,
I embrace the quiet; no background score or strains.
poem by Mamta Agarwal
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With The Lark
Night is for sorrow and dawn is for joy,
Chasing the troubles that fret and annoy;
Darkness for sighing and daylight for song,--
Cheery and chaste the strain, heartfelt and strong.
All the night through, though I moan in the dark,
I wake in the morning to sing with the lark.
Deep in the midnight the rain whips the leaves,
Softly and sadly the wood-spirit grieves.
But when the first hue of dawn tints the sky,
I shall shake out my wings like the birds and be dry;
And though, like the rain-drops, I grieved through the dark,
I shall wake in the morning to sing with the lark.
On the high hills of heaven, some morning to be,
Where the rain shall not grieve thro' the leaves of the tree,
There my heart will be glad for the pain I have known,
For my hand will be clasped in the hand of mine own;
And though life has been hard and death's pathway been dark,
I shall wake in the morning to sing with the lark.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Scarlatti
last night
locked in
the castle
of pride and
egotism
goes on two
legs
Webern
orchestrated a
sky the clouds
move to a
bass
on
an instrument not
an oboe, gray
on light-gray in
blue and green
goes by
on glass
Schoenberg
serenades with
a view through
to where
a girl
swings
her
body displaced
against the
pull of her
hands head-
high on the
ropes
night
before the night
before last
unlocked the castle
of pride and
egotism
bliss
clouds stand
and go by
poem by James Marcus Schuyler
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Nocturnes
All night, insects and pipers sing in the marshes,
and the little wet ponds in the woods.
They sing, as if the night wouldn't be night
without their songs.
Often, I have wondered if they sing for comfort
against the dreadful tentacles that find their way
in the dark molecules of impalpable night;
to attract the opposite sex, to mate, to procreate,
to write against the night; or simply, for the sake of song,
communion, life.
I wonder why humans sleep at night.
I wonder if there are songs too under the ocean floor
at night.
Too Many Angels
Theres an angel on a ribbon
Hanging from the armoire door
Theres a cupid with his feet crossed
On the bird cage by the door
Theres a baby angel drummer
His eyes are open wide
And two more tiny cherubs
On the mantle side by side
Too many angels
Have seen me crying
Too many angels
Have heard you lying
There are photographs of children
All in their silver frames
On the window sills and tabletops
Lit by candle flames
And upon their angel faces
Lifes expectations climb
Where the moment has preserved them
From the ravages of time
Too many angels
Have seen me crying
Too many angels
Have heard you lying
Bring the morning on
Voices sing of day
I want to step out in the morning sun
Through the flood of tears
I want this darkness gone
Your sweet face appears
These apparitions coming one by one
But theres no end in sight
Only the dead of night
And too many angels
Too many angels
Have seen me crying
Too many angels
Have heard you lying
Too many angels
Bring the morning on
Voices sing of day
I want to step out in the morning sun
Through the flood of tears
I want to greet the dawn
Cast away these fears
Forget about the things we could have done
Bring the morning on
Voices sing of day
I want to watch the children as they run
Through the broken years
I want this darkness gone
Your sweet face appears
These apparitions coming one by one
But theres no end in sight
Only the dead of night
And too many angels
song performed by by Jackson Browne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shades Of Gray (Master Backing Track Take 98)
When the world and I were young, just yesterday
Life was such a simple game a child could play
It was easy then to tell right from wrong
Easy then to tell weak from strong
When a man should stand and fight
Or just go along
But today, there is no day or night
Today, there is no dark or light
Today, there is no black or white
Only shades of gray
I remember when the answer seemed so clear
We had never lived with doubt, or tasted fear
It was easy then to tell truth from lies
Selling out from compromise
Who to love and who to hate
The foolish from the wise
But today, there is no day or night
Today, there is no dark or light
Today, there is no black or white
Only shades of gray
It was easy then to know what was fair
When to keep and when to share
How much to protect your heart
And how much to care
But today, there is no day or night
Today, there is no dark or light
Today, there is no black or white
Only shades of gray
Only shades of gray
song performed by by Monkees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Over The Hills And Far Away
A LITTLE bird flew my window by,
'Twixt the level street and the level sky,
The level rows of houses tall,
The long low sun on the level wall;
And all that the little bird did say
Was, 'Over the hills and far away.'
A little bird sang behind my chair,
From the level line of corn-fields fair,
The smooth green hedgerow's level bound
Not a furlong off--the horizon's bound,
And the level lawn where the sun all day
Burns:--'Over the hills and far away.'
A little bird sings above my bed,
And I know if I could but lift my head
I would see the sun set, round and grand,
Upon level sea and level sand,
While beyond the misty distance gray
Is 'Over the hills and far away.'
I think that a little bird will sing
Over a grassy mound, next spring,
Where something that once was me, ye'll leave
In the level sunshine, morn and eve:
But I shall be gone, past night, past day,
Over the hills and far away.
poem by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
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My Deep
You're more lovely than all the shades
of greens and purples of any precious garden.
You're my most dreamless sleep,
my green, my cool and dark and deep.
Your smile's worth more than all the jewels
within the earth, begging at your feet.
Hot and humid, overtired. I beg for sleep!
My fresh, my green, my dark and deep.
My purple! Oh, for a dreamless sleep!
My green, my cool, my dark and deep.
You are sweeter than summer night's jasmine
and brighter than the sun's morning laughter.
My Prince, my man, my green lovely, my sleep!
my best, my fresh, my cool, my dark and deep.
poem by Guy Peppin
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Next Dark Night
The night is silent,
I'm in the middle,
what a deafening sound
the darkness is comforting
no one see me while I'm crashing.
But I wish, I have you like my candle
so, I don't have to stumble,
If you hear me, would you come
will you stay with me through the dark.
Because the night is cooler,
darker
older,
closer, I can't breath.
My mind is turning, searching for you,
why are you so far
I wanna be where you are,
stay with me,
let's stay with each other
through the next dark night.
Through the next dark night
maybe I won't be afraid
to do what is right
just hold me tight
and don't let me do the fight....
alone.
I know, we can make it
no matter how high the wall
no matter how dark the night,
we could pass
we could stand tall
we don't let each other fall
even the next dark night...
come.
poem by Yellowbell Alamanda
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Shades Of Gray
By barry mann and cyntha weil
When the world and I were young,
Just yesterday.
Live was such a simple game,
A child could play.
It was easy then to tell right from wrong.
Easy then to tell weak from strong.
When a man should stand and fight,
Or just go along.
But today there is no day or night
Today there is no dark or light.
Today there is no black or white,
Only shades of gray.
I remember when the answers seemed so clear
We had never lived with doubt or tasted fear.
It was easy then to tell truth from lies
Selling out from compromise
Who to love and who to hate,
The foolish from the wise.
But today there is no day or night
Today there is no dark or light.
Today there is no black or white,
Only shades of gray.
[instumental interlude]
It was easy then to know what was fair
When to keep and when to share.
How much to protect your heart
And how much to care.
But today there is no day or night
Today there is no dark or light.
Today there is no black or white,
Only shades of gray.
Only shades of gray.
song performed by by Monkees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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