Poetics 6....
in april
the firetrees are blooming
beside
a very calm lake
where some swans
make
a show
we take our
seat
on a bench
watch
the world glowing
with beauty
the two of us
isolated from the thought
of
the nuclear leak
in Fugushima
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Swans
Two swans sit alone on a lake
Looking so peaceful,
Poised on the tranquil waters.
The air around them is calm,
A gentle breeze wafting,
Gliding through their white feathers.
They are caressed by the pine scents
And the delicate balance
Of their surroundings.
The sky above is blue,
Almost cloudless and clear,
But a few pillows float overhead.
The trees stand tall beside the lake,
Watching the swans
Swim on the surface.
They swim majestically,
Beautifully,
In the recreational park.
Under their webbed feet,
Abandoned garbage sifts—
The collected lost trinkets of lazy people.
Twenty feet from the lake,
There is a parking lot
Filled with automobiles
With rust crusting on the hood
And near the synthetic rubber tires.
The people that own the cars
Are feeding the geese bleached white Wonder bread.
They leave their Coke bottles
And Doritos bags on the ground,
Ready to be carried away by the wind.
The swans watch the people.
Later, one of them
Will stick its neck
Into the plastic hole
Of a Coke bottle container
And choke
And choke
And choke
And choke.
It will die.
The other swan will watch,
Helpless and screaming,
Unable to do anything.
Some people will watch,
In awe,
Some excited.
poem by Tim Stensloff
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Bench
Sitting on a bench watching people go by.
Smiles and frowns, Stares and glares
Wondering what they are thinking?
Is it me greeting them one by one
Or me sitting on a bench.
The seat of comfort and distractions
a place to think and read
Feed the birds, Friendly chats
Surprising hellos, A lot of old fellows
wanting the seat, for they are beat!
Everyone's favorite seat
The bench of life
poem by Michael Peterson
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Swans
Night is over the park, and a few brave stars
Look on the lights that link it with chains of gold,
The lake bears up their reflection in broken bars
That seem too heavy for tremulous water to hold.
We watch the swans that sleep in a shadowy place,
And now and again one wakes and uplifts its head;
How still you are -- your gaze is on my face --
We watch the swans and never a word is said.
poem by Sara Teasdale
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April 2031
They say the sky used to be blue
I don't quite believe it.
It's probably always been
the color that it is.
And there were cotton candy clouds.
And birds to fly through it.
Just stories we all love to tell our kids.
So I'll close my electronic door
And keep the cold outside.
And hug my aluminium pillow so tight.
And pray the radiation
doesn't make me sick tonight.
No more sky and no more trees.
April 2031
No more oxygen to breathe.
April 2031
No more hate and no more war.
April 2031
Nothing left worth fighting for.
April 2031.
They say there used to be a wind
that wasn't caused by fans
I wonder how it would have felt in my hair
And the nuclear ring
around the moon was caused by man
if it was, then it's much too late to care
So I'll put my safety goggles on
and gaze out at the sun
as the artificial atmostphere machines
give off a constant hum
in a world that's cold and peaceful, april 2031
No more sky and no more trees.
April 2031
No more oxygen to breathe.
April 2031
No more hate and no more war.
April 2031
Nothing left worth fighting for.
April 2031.
As far back as Veitnam,
we should have learned our lesson.
But we closed our eyes
and sent our sons away.
And they told us we were winning
as they sold more ammunition.
Some were angry,
most just looked the other way.
And the night's illuminated
by the endless glowing sand
that swallowed all the oceans
and choked off all the land.
In a world beyond resuscitation
Even by God's hand
No more mountains no more sea
April 2031
No more you and no more me
April 2031
No more music no more songs
April 2031
No God left to blame it on
April 2031
No more children playing
April 2031
No more need for praying
April 2030 One
song performed by by Warrant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A November Night
There! See the line of lights,
A chain of stars down either side the street --
Why can't you lift the chain and give it to me,
A necklace for my throat? I'd twist it round
And you could play with it. You smile at me
As though I were a little dreamy child
Behind whose eyes the fairies live. . . . And see,
The people on the street look up at us
All envious. We are a king and queen,
Our royal carriage is a motor bus,
We watch our subjects with a haughty joy. . . .
How still you are! Have you been hard at work
And are you tired to-night? It is so long
Since I have seen you -- four whole days, I think.
My heart is crowded full of foolish thoughts
Like early flowers in an April meadow,
And I must give them to you, all of them,
Before they fade. The people I have met,
The play I saw, the trivial, shifting things
That loom too big or shrink too little, shadows
That hurry, gesturing along a wall,
Haunting or gay -- and yet they all grow real
And take their proper size here in my heart
When you have seen them. . . . There's the Plaza now,
A lake of light! To-night it almost seems
That all the lights are gathered in your eyes,
Drawn somehow toward you. See the open park
Lying below us with a million lamps
Scattered in wise disorder like the stars.
We look down on them as God must look down
On constellations floating under Him
Tangled in clouds. . . . Come, then, and let us walk
Since we have reached the park. It is our garden,
All black and blossomless this winter night,
But we bring April with us, you and I;
We set the whole world on the trail of spring.
I think that every path we ever took
Has marked our footprints in mysterious fire,
Delicate gold that only fairies see.
When they wake up at dawn in hollow tree-trunks
And come out on the drowsy park, they look
Along the empty paths and say, "Oh, here
They went, and here, and here, and here! Come, see,
Here is their bench, take hands and let us dance
About it in a windy ring and make
A circle round it only they can cross
When they come back again!" . . . Look at the lake --
Do you remember how we watched the swans
That night in late October while they slept?
Swans must have stately dreams, I think. But now
The lake bears only thin reflected lights
That shake a little. How I long to take
One from the cold black water -- new-made gold
To give you in your hand! And see, and see,
There is a star, deep in the lake, a star!
Oh, dimmer than a pearl -- if you stoop down
Your hand could almost reach it up to me. . . .
There was a new frail yellow moon to-night --
I wish you could have had it for a cup
With stars like dew to fill it to the brim. . . .
How cold it is! Even the lights are cold;
They have put shawls of fog around them, see!
What if the air should grow so dimly white
That we would lose our way along the paths
Made new by walls of moving mist receding
The more we follow. . . . What a silver night!
That was our bench the time you said to me
The long new poem -- but how different now,
How eerie with the curtain of the fog
Making it strange to all the friendly trees!
There is no wind, and yet great curving scrolls
Carve themselves, ever changing, in the mist.
Walk on a little, let me stand here watching
To see you, too, grown strange to me and far. . . .
I used to wonder how the park would be
If one night we could have it all alone --
No lovers with close arm-encircled waists
To whisper and break in upon our dreams.
And now we have it! Every wish comes true!
We are alone now in a fleecy world;
Even the stars have gone. We two alone!
poem by Sara Teasdale
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Memories On A Park Bench
He sat on a park bench
just to pass the time away
when he saw her there
from the corner of his eye.
She was older now,
but her beauty had not faded.
She turned in his direction
and he smiled at her.
At first, she looked at him strangely
until there was recognition.
She smiled back
and then joined him.
They sat there on the park bench
the sun smiling down on them
as the daffodils swayed in the breeze.
For both of them came a flood
of memories of when they were young
before the world spirited them away.
Both had walked down many roads,
had some hard knocks along the way.
Both recalled them now
the way old friends meeting do.
As they sat there
recalling memories from happier days.
All too soon they would be parting
and as they would go,
they would take with them
a little of each other
in the form of memories
that they acquired on a park bench.
5 April 2009
poem by David Harris
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And blooming
Blooming blooming
You are blooming.
You are white tulip
You are tube rose
You are passiflora
You are mutabilis
You are marigold
And what not
What not you are.
Your world
Wonderful world
I am
With You
You are blooming
Blooming blooming
And blooming.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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The West A Glimmering Lake Of Light
The West a glimmering lake of light,
A dream of pearly weather,
The first of stars is burning white -
The star we watch together.
Is April dead? The unresting year
Will shape us our September,
And April's work is done, my dear -
Do you not remember?
O gracious eve! O happy star,
Still-flashing, glowing, sinking! -
Who lives of lovers near or far
So glad as I in thinking?
The gallant world is warm and green,
For May fulfils November.
When lights and leaves and loves have been,
Sweet, will you remember?
O star benignant and serene,
I take the good to-morrow,
That fills from verge to verge my dream,
With all its joy and sorrow!
The old, sweet spell is unforgot
That turns to June December;
And, tho' the world remembered not,
Love, we would remember.
poem by William Ernest Henley
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Somethins Goin On
(ian hunter)
The spirit of war is all around us
n everybody knows somethins goin on
Fasten your seat belts - say goodbye to your mothers
Cos everybody knows somethins goin on
Nuclear missiles - cover to cover
Everybody knows somethins goin on
The world is a subway - all the leaders are muggers
n everybody knows somethins goin on
Well I say
Roll up to the party - welcome to the show
Well make you live in fear - then well make you disappear
Somethins goin on n everybody knows
What you got - what you got
Everybody knows somethins goin on
Most people got nothin - a few got the lot
n everybody knows - its still goin on
Well I say
Roll up to the circus - welcome to death row
Just do what we say - then well blow you all away
Somethins goin on n everybody knows
What about hunger... are they just another number?
Were all an endangered species
n everybody knows - its still goin on
Well I say
Welcome to thanksgiving - what we reap is what we sow
Well watch you die in vain from the safety of our plane
Somethins goin on n everybody knows
song performed by by Ian Hunter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A thought after Yeats
When youth was life and life was youth
and life was love and love was life,
I thought love came and went;
its coming, overwhelming; and its going,
death of spirit; then, as if
the wild white swans had flown away
and left the waters of the heart’s lake cold.
But now I know it’s not like that:
love that, guarded, never flies from here in heart
to where it will, may grow dark, cold and miserly;
ungiven every livelong day
it turns to rags and dry old bones,
confiscated in the heart.
Better now, be with those wild white swans
which on a dark cold icy winter’s day
gather at the water’s edge to stretch
for yesterday’s warm loaf still fresh;
then turn, swim, lift strong wings and fly
one knows not where, and may not ask;
watch them then, into the distance;
hear the flap of wings grow into silent air;
pause still a little while;
then turn, one’s living breath
white in that winter air;
then back to warmth of home and love and peat fire
glowing in the hearth of heart renewed.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Shantelles Poem
Days come and go the sun sets to grace the night with its everlasting peace. The beauty of the earth graces the night only for the many people to spoil it. The unspoiled dreams of children running through the minds of others around. But has this world turned to the point of a simple thought? As I look around to see the shimmering beauty of this world begin to fade I turn to see a vision, a beautiful flower standing behind me. I see this beauty unspoiled by the world around and blooming as to be a dream. This beauty i wonder where it comes from as i melt at this divine beauty as to only feel unworthy to glimpse it i wounder where is this beauty and i remember this beauty is the person that is reading this gift the person who inspired this poem.
poem by Twisted Dreams
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Nuclear Infected
I'm nuclear infected
I really don't mind
I just go out when the sun goes down
And have a real good time.
I can clear out any ballgame
In a minute and a half
Just show up - glow up
And have a real good laugh
When I'm happy I glow yellow
When I'm sad I glow blue
And I glow red hot when I'm in bed with you
I'm nuclear infected
Really ain't that bad
In fact it's about the best time
I guess I ever had
I'm nuclear infected
Looking for a mate
So slip on something lead, babe
And go out on a date
When I'm happy I glow yellow
When I'm sad I glow blue, yeah
And I glow red hot when I'm in bed with you
Nuclear infected....... don't make me angry
Nuclear infected....... don't make shake
Nuclear infected....... don't get me to sneeze
Nuclear infected....... that's a big mistake
I want to live on Three Mile Island
Where things are clean and neat
'Cause we don't have no health freaks
Clutterin' up our streets
I'm nuclear infected, I need something to eat
A China Syndrome Salad with plutonium and cheese.
When I'm happy I glow yellow
When I'm sad I glow blue
And I glow red hot when I'm in bed with you
song performed by by Alice Cooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What is the only provocation that could bring about the use of nuclear weapons? Nuclear weapons. What is the priority target for nuclear weapons? Nuclear weapons. What is the only established defense against nuclear weapons? Nuclear weapons. How do we prevent the use of nuclear weapons? By threatening the use of nuclear weapons. And we can't get rid of nuclear weapons, because of nuclear weapons. The intransigence, it seems, is a function of the weapons themselves.
quote by Martin Amis
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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April Flower
Bloom for me,
My April flower.
Show your beauty,
I'll take a gander.
The wind scatters your scent
Giving me the feeling of heaven.
You're the perfection i've dreamt,
The one that i've chosen.
Bloom for me,
My April Flower,
And let me see,
Your petals that matches no other.
I know you're not mine
And you did not grew for me
I can only see you again this time
Unable to resist fate's cruelty.
Bloom for me,
My April Flower,
Though we're not destined to be,
Stay in my heart and take shelter.
In my heart, you will not wilt,
You will eternally bloom..
Even if i am burdened by this guilt,
and love is my certained doom.
Bloom for me for the last time,
At least i can call this moment mine
Ignore my reasons that doesn't rhyme,
Show me your beauty that i can't define.
Bloom..for all eternity..April Flower.
poem by John Paul Ang
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Creation.
I saw a butterfly one day
Delicate as lace
I pondered as I slowly walked
What god had made his angel face?
Passing by the swans glassy lake
A hummingbird swooped low
I wondered as I trailed on
What made his strength and beauty so?
The horse galloped with regal might
And once again my thought took flight
Human, bird or butterfly
What god has made you and I?
poem by Hannah York
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Nuclear
This is where the summer ends
In a flash of pure destruction, no one wins
Go nuclear. Nuclear.
The violets in my eyelids goin' red
Sentimental geek
Shut up and go to sleep
The calm, the beach and the remains
Of the bathing suits and Porsches all in flames
Go nuclear. Nuclear.
When I saw her and the Yankees lost to the Braves
Sentimental geek
Shut up and go to sleep
Give me an answer
song performed by by Ryan Adams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Summer Afternoon
I watched as swans went gliding by,
Gazing at gracefulness so sleek,
Then spied a dancing dragonfly,
Displaying its beauty, so unique.
And as I sat down by the stream,
The swans majestic, drifted on,
A sight of enchantment so supreme,
As on this scene, the sunbeams shone.
With rippling sounds that filled the air,
So restful that such a gentle tune,
Made this a place extraordinaire,
There, this mild summer afternoon.
The wind moved softly down the creek,
And whispered to the swaying grass,
As if to say, with tongue-in-cheek,
Bow down. Let me unhindered pass.
And so the swans sailed out of view,
Around the bend and out of sight,
The dragonfly with thoughts anew,
Flew off into the warm sunlight.
Thus I was left to contemplate,
How calm and still, this quiet place,
How such a spot can encapsulate,
And my weary heart to so embrace.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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One is the loneliest number
In the distance, by the lake's edge,
beneath the day's twilight, the water
echoes a calm feeling.
The cob and his pen float in rhythm,
unattached from the world,
as their plumes stay dry.
As I watch the vivid creatures waltz
with beauty and grace, my thoughts
recall a room full of lilies,
and the drama of a wedding dress.
In the morning, they rise into the silent air,
my inflamed heart, not able to test
their flight, soars to a distant time and place,
once more, pondering whether
this will be the last migration.
poem by Bill Kamen
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Nuclear War
Nuclear War, the terror of the world,
Enough to destroy all life and world,
While nuclear war breaks, all terribly die,
Even the creatures that crawl to the birds those fly.
Nuclear war is the agent of death,
In its cruel seize, no life ever breathe,
Once it catches, countries do go dead,
As in world war, Hiroshima almost did.
It brings loss and terror ever never told,
To stop it, all people need to be bold,
And love each other, be it win or loss,
For, nuclear war means humanity's loss.
poem by Pratheek Praveen
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Just Emergence
Look at their just emergence
It awaits mere beautiful chance
To come up in world at once
With bright sun rays on flower's face
If you dream about its beauty
You can at once know the power of almighty
It ahs put all such elegance in its show
You can forget whole world when it grows
Such is fragrance and its outer appearance
It attracts eyes and makes magnetic influence
It has with all kinds of flowers in the garden
It is over all show and as if blessed from heaven
We are noticing only beauty and its full blossom
But never think of protecting or granting any freedom
The new born baby child meets same fate
No thought for how many might have been crushed of late
Flowers and babies have same fear over their future
Some may come up and some may vanish for sure
They are done away with termination before birth
A step never thought over even by almighty
Can we not give a second thought for a while?
Allow them to come in this world in their style
Excel with their elegance and make us to smile
Let us not make way for their exit and file
It has right to come up in a manner
And in a way so natural even in summer
Flowers need our protection to groom with care
So no one thinks to molest, pick or dare
The world is shrinking fast
The ladies are discriminated and may not evenly last
They need stern hand against and proper care
They have enormous potential to come up anywhere
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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