En.Citatepedia^®.ro

The Greatest Book

x x x x
is not the one
whose
message
engraves itself
on the
brain

x x x x
- but the one
whose
vital impact
opens up
other
viewpoints,

x x x x

and from writer
to reader
spreads
the fire

x x x x

that is fed by
the various
essences,

x x x x
until it becomes
a vast conflagration
leaping from
forest to
forest.'

-romain roland

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Coldness Of Indifference

i watch a bonfire
it spreads upon a bush
into the forest of
dry trees

i watch a conflagration
i am inside it
i am burning and burning
still

i am not consumed
i am fire
i eat the forest of dry trees
i spread in the bush

until all is consumed
and then i stop
i am back to myself
nothing really happened

then we resume the conversation
about fire
you speak about it
your heart is not involved

you never felt any heat
i know because you are cold
there is no heat in you
you, in a few minutes, die.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Reader or writer

If you are a reader or a writer.
You should be a positive thinker.
You are more like a scientist observer.
Try to be an exact experimenter.
Nothing is too crazy to put on paper.

If you are a reader or a writer.
The reader is a wonderful dreamer.
The writer is a sincere worker.
Its lovely that both can be each other.

If you are a reader or a writer.
You should never say never.
So don't leave behind a book marker.
Make sure you have a word sharpener.

poem by Lyda Mery
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Wild Forest Flower

Rough around the edges but a tender center
This is my wild forest flower
Short and slender with long flowing blonde hair
This is my wild forest flower
A loving heart that goes beyond what I can see
This is my wild forest flower

I want to hold my flower in my hands
Wondering why she holds back and refuses to stand
I water it every now and then to watch it grow
But it takes too long because it’s a little slow
So I wait patiently for the flower to begin to rise
Even though I can still hear the weeping willows cries

Firm and hard headed but with a loving touch
This is my wild forest flower
Always hiding and always scared like a little child
This is my wild forest flower
The only one im willing to be with anymore
This is my wild forest flower

A darkened hush rises in the sky above my flower
The roots slowly exposing themselves out of fear
A forest fire begins in the distance soon to consume it
The fire rages ready to consume the small thing in power
This little bitty flower that I love and hold so dear
but I laugh because I know how this fire got lit

poem by Branden Aeling
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The One Who Decides

There is no fight for terrificness,
With votes to split...
To see who sits on thrones.
No panel of judges,
Or audience call-ins...
To pick who is the best of all!

When a writer is alone,
And inspiration begins to creep...
There is no sleeping!
Maybe some weeping!
Perhaps some frustration...
From attempts to produce a creation!

But when a writer is alone,
And a thought becomes complete...
The ultimate winner is you the reader.
The one who decides,
If the message delivered...
Is one to criticize.
Or if the writer wants what's read...
To be taken to depths,
Inside one's head!

There is no fight for terrificness,
With votes to split...
To see who sits on thrones.
No panel of judges,
Or audience call-ins...
To pick who is the best of all!

The one who decides,
If the message delivered...
Is one to criticize.
Or one that makes the shivering inside...
Going below surfaces,
Unexpected and undenied.
That would be 'you' the reader...
The one who decides to take it deeper!
Giving the writer a purpose to keep,
You...
The reader,
Either laughing...
Or weeping!
With creations,
That give you creeps!

BOO! !

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Fire Of Love

Yes its true,
the fire is bright.
As Its burns right through,
the day and the night.

Like a wild fire that dances and sings,
as spreads across the forest
with a whispering of the winds.

For Its our love of the fire
that ignitions from within.
As our two worlds become one,
as we reach towards heaven.

For there is nothing to quench
there longing to burn
which feels like the fire
of love we have always yearned?

poem by Craig Moon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Green Roads

The green roads that end in the forest
Are strewn with white goose feathers this June,

Life marks left behind by someone gone to the forest
To show his track. But he has never come back.

Down each green road a cottage looks at the forest.
Round one the nettle towers; two are bathed in flowers.

An old man along the green road to the forest
Strays from one, from another a child alone.

In the thicket bordering the forest,
All day long a thrush twiddles his song.

It is old, but the trees are young in the forest,
All but one like a castle keep, in the middle deep.

That oak saw the ages pass in the forest:
They were a host, but their memories are lost,

For the tree is dead: all things forget the forest
Excepting perhaps me, when now I see

The old man, the child, the goose feathers at the edge of the forest,
And hear all day long the thrush repeat his song.

poem by Edward Thomas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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…

poem by Jay Haa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Concrete Forest

Gang banging
Street banging
Concrete Forest—

People dying
Children crying
Bullets flying
No remorse for the fallen—

Crack smoking
Prostitute selling
Cops stinging
Benefactors of trouble times—

Blood
Guts—inside body parts
Cultivate the Concrete Forest—

I see a mother kneeling
A priest praying
A child victimize—a father convicted
All within the Concrete Forest—

Sirens blowing
Lights flashing
Someone else dying
In the Concrete Forest—

Mercy on us
Compassion for us
Deliver us
From the Concrete Forest—

Restore our hope
Destroy the trepidation
Breathe life back into Concrete Forest—

It is time to go
My time is gone
My nightmares—relinquished
Within the Concrete Forest—

No more worrisome days
No more stressful nights
Freedom has come to me
In the Concrete Forest—

My freedom is now
Your comes later
But, not in this Concrete Forest—

Written by
Gregory E Upshaw

poem by Gregory Upshaw
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Twin

the vastness of love
can be a desert
or a wild forest

in the desert the winds
of emptiness blows
all day

in the wild forest the
heavy rains pour
all year round

in said places
time like sand spills
people imagine all the
ghosts of pains
and so i wonder
what love really is

in the vast forest
a bee complains that it is homeless
a butterfly cries on broken wings
in the desert the skull of a horse
is watched by still
hungry vultures
after all
what happened

so, is pain actually love's
twin sister?

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In The Forest

By the sacred grove, where the waters flow
We will come and go, in the forest
In the summer rain, we will meet again
We will learn the code of the ancient ones
In the forest
By the waterfall, I will hold you in my arms
We will meet again by the leafy glade
In the shade of the forest
With your long robes on, we will surely roam
By the ancient roads, I will take you home
To the forest
In the forest, in the forest
In the forest, in the forest
With your long robes on, we will surely roam
By the ancient roads, I will take you home again
To the forest
Satisfy the soul baby
Birds sing all day long of the mother lode
We can let it roll, in the forest
With your long robes on
I know where youre coming from
By the big oak tree youve gotta come and go with me
In the forest, in the forest
In the forest, in the forest
By the waterfall
I will hold you in my arms, and we will meet again
By the leafy shade, in the, in the forest
Satisfy the soul
Birds sing all day long of the mother lode
We can surely let it roll, in the forest
With your long robes on
I know where youre coming from
We will surely roam, down by the ancient roads

song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Forest Of Fire

We are in the land, with the same sand.
We breathe the same air, with our lungs.
The war broke in east, it is not far.
They have built wall and constructed bar.
Killing and bleeding the assassins they hire.
Turning into ashes, its forest of fire.

War in this life, miserable and chaotic time.
Reason of power, they bleed over the lime.
House of tent, Canopy of bombs and bloods.
Many have been killed, still it flood.
Burning flames are into our desire.
Turning into ashes, its forest of fire.

Beauty and ugly or Black and white.
Its natural, we share same light.
Trembled in fear, we here thy babel.
Wretched in war, makes us all nibble.
Running away far, we climbed more higher.
Turning into ashes, its forest of fire.

poem by Diplove gautam
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Neon Forest

Im sliding like a lizard on my belly and back
Its a miracle I havent fallen through any cracks
The life on display is trouble for sure
The drugs that I took have made me impure
The neon forest is lighting up
The neon forest is lighting up
My brain
Ive learned some nasty lessons so Im shutting
My mouth
A fury in my gut is spinning me round
And round
To be a total phony is the winning design
When the fabric of life is a horny goldmine
The neon forest is my home
And like a cartoon cat I roam
Where only kids are still alive
And anyway theyre gonna fry
My brain
You can get a weird prize for being adored
You can join the in crowd for being a whore
Although you are lonely you wish for a fence
America takes drugs in psychic defense
You can say what you want but nobodys there
Have you got any money?
Are you anybody?

song performed by by Iggy Pop
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lover's Gifts XIX: It Is Written in the Book

It is written in the book that Man, when fifty, must leave the
noisy world, to go to the forest seclusion. But the poet proclaims
that the forest hermitage is only for the young. For it is the
birthplace of flowers and the haunt of birds and bees; and hidden
hooks are waiting there for the thrill of lovers' whispers. There
the moon-light, that is all one kiss for the malati flowers, has
its deep message, but those who understand it are far below fifty.
And alas, youth is inexperienced and wilful, therefore it is
but meet that the old should take charge of the household, and the
young take to the seclusion of forest shades and the severe
discipline of courting.

poem by Rabindranath Tagore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Baidoo

To gain access to the forest is like,
To gain access to your love;
And, you are like one of the smart waiters around me!
But, let me break the jink.

Of the forest of love that muses with my heart!
For, my mind is now set on you like the eternal blues of love;
And i will always wait for you my sweet one,
Because, you are the very one that my heart had been searching for.

Baidoo my lover!
receive my muse and take in my message;
For, to gain access to your love is like,
To gain access to the thick forest!
And, i will always do my best to wait for you always.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pale Moon

Moon sings and sighs
narrating her past,
autumnal cloud spreads
over our happiness.

Lofty forest is going to cry
when the ray of the moon whispers
„ What did it happen with the moon? „
that the moon is sad and does not smile.

The ray of the moon warmed up
all is moving in this forest
that any animal is asking
how to be helped
proud moon in the sky.

I feel the ray of the moon
in my palm.
I carres and spoil her
then the moon smiles me
because the sadness has gone.

poem by Valentin Gabriel Cristea
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Catchfire

It's only needs a spark to catch fire
Bone dry and brittle

A dying forest
Deprived of water

Dead trees seem to blanket the
Once healthy, vibrant forest floor

Leaves and yellow grass are like a disease
Slowly consuming all that is green

Fires rage everywhere
Not here, not yet atleast

But,
It only needs a spark to catch fire

poem by Autumn Winds
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Nancy

I am at the entrance of the valley of love,
But whose daughter is this girl? !
I am the entrance of love with a joyful song of flute and tambourines,
But i do love her like myself.
Oh Nancy, love and kindness will lead you everywhere!
And, understanding and patience will always lead you too.
Nancy, you are the only forest on top of this mountain;
And anywhere in the world we will swing on this love forever.
The message of love is what i bring to you and,
Somewhere in this forest is your sweet love hidden;
For your love is like an alloted time to me.
I am at the entrance of your sweet love and,
I will not shoot anyone in this forest;
For this sweet love is all that i have between you and i.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Fawn

There it was I saw what I shall never forget
And never retrieve.
Monstrous and beautiful to human eyes, hard to
believe,
He lay, yet there he lay,
Asleep on the moss, his head on his polished cleft
small ebony hoves,
The child of the doe, the dappled child of the deer.

Surely his mother had never said, "Lie here
Till I return," so spotty and plain to see
On the green moss lay he.
His eyes had opened; he considered me.

I would have given more than I care to say
To thrifty ears, might I have had him for my friend
One moment only of that forest day:

Might I have had the acceptance, not the love
Of those clear eyes;
Might I have been for him in the bough above
Or the root beneath his forest bed,
A part of the forest, seen without surprise.

Was it alarm, or was it the wind of my fear lest he
depart
That jerked him to his jointy knees,
And sent him crashing off, leaping and stumbling
On his new legs, between the stems of the white
trees?

poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Imaginary Creatures

In this make believe world
imaginary creatures dangle from the trees
In a forest where emotions run free
For what they feel they never agree
It`s a future they will never see
In a forest with closed doors
The imaginary creature holds the key
To a future that will never be
So as i walk this forest of make believe
I search no more for what i see
It`s just creatures dangling from the trees
In a life that will be as they see
So i`ll just leave this forest be
And search no more for that key

poem by Joseph Whelan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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