Torture
The mist is low, drifting like smoke
As a shroud, envelopes him
Wrapped in a cloak
In his mind, he carries his sin.
Forehead creased in a frown
Trees, leafless, ahead
Eyes cast down
Pointing to a trail of dread
thoughts whirling in his head
words mumbled, nothing said
Through this greying cloud
A song once sung
Words tumble, not out loud
cold mist in his lungs
Sightless, groping
For the future
Hoping
Slow walk, torture
Trees old and gnarled
Bowed by winds
Under breath he snarled
Yelling at the tree
Shifting listless
What is life to me?
Falling into the pits
Darkness surrounds
Where the devil sits
Heartbeat pounds
poem by Robert Green
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The Dreams
Spare a little candle
Save some light for me
Figures up ahead
Moving in the trees
White skin in linen
Perfume on my wrist
And the full moon that hangs over
These dreams in the mist
Darkness on the edge
Shadows where I stand
I search for the time
On a watch with no hands
I want to see you clearly
Come closer than this
But all I remember
Are the dreams in the mist
These dreams go on when I close my eyes
Every second of the night I live another life
These dreams that sleep when it's cold outside
Every moment I'm awake the further I'm away
Is it cloak n dagger
Could it be spring or fall
I walk without a cut
Through a stained glass wall
Weaker in my eyesight
The candle in my grip
And words that have no form
Are falling from my lips
These dreams go on when I close my eyes
Every second of the night I live another life
These dreams that sleep when it's cold outside
Every moment I'm awake the further I'm away
There's something out there
I can't resist
I need to hide away from the pain
There's something out there
I can't resist
The sweetest song is silence
That I've ever heard
Funny how your feet
In dreams never touch the earth
In a wood full of princes
Freedom is a kiss
But the prince hides his face
From dreams in the mist
These dreams go on when I close my eyes
Every second of the night I live another life
These dreams that sleep when it's cold outside
Every moment I'm awake the further I'm away
These dreams go on when I close my eyes
Every second of the night I live another life
These dreams that sleep when it's cold outside
Every moment I'm awake the further I'm away
song performed by by Heart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Handsworth Wood
Have ever you seen
On Halloween,
The cloud that covers the trees so green?
The shroud that covers the last of lovers
The shifting mist of the in-between?
I’ve stood, I’ve stood,
By Handsworth Wood,
I’ve stood as long as I thought I could;
All Hallow’s Eve is the night I grieve
My Genevieve of the purple hood.
She slipped between
The trees so green,
She slipped from me one Halloween;
The cloud had glimmered, the evening shimmered
But she was never to more be seen.
And since that cloud
Became a shroud,
I’ve not forgotten the words I vowed;
My patience burns for the cloud’s return
To help discern what I might have been.
The day she left
I held my breath,
Her sleight of hand was so very deft;
But Genevieve, I still believe
You’ll wander out on some Hallow’s Eve.
I wait in vain,
There’s only rain,
The rain and part of the cloud remain;
But Genevieve I’ve not perceived
Since she went tripping in World’s End Lane.
World End’s Land
In Autumn rain,
There’s nothing left of my lost refrain;
For Handsworth Wood is a neighborhood
Where trees are held in a great disdain.
2 July 1977
poem by David Lewis Paget
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A Misty Day
Heart of my heart, the day is chill,
The mist hangs low o'er the wooded hill,
The soft white mist and the heavy cloud
The sun and the face of heaven shroud.
The birds are thick in the dripping trees,
That drop their pearls to the beggar breeze;
No songs are rife where songs are wont,
Each singer crouches in his haunt.
Heart of my heart, the day is chill,
Whene'er thy loving voice is still,
The cloud and mist hide the sky from me,
Whene'er thy face I cannot see.
My thoughts fly back from the chill without,
My mind in the storm drops doubt on doubt,
No songs arise. Without thee, love,
My soul sinks down like a frightened dove.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Beneath a morning mist
Beneath a morning mist
~
A morning mist hides
the potential of a beautiful sky
low cloud covers streets and roads
the moist dew of the air
cold against the skin
a freshness to the lungs
welcomed regardless
eyes look into the nothingness
eagerly anticipating the sun
to break through its light
and warm the gardens
meanwhile the mist is silent
quietly haunting all
this is just a day beginning
lets pray its beautiful
poem by Matthew Holloway
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Random Thoughts
I chant my melody as I glance upwards towards the sky,
Though the words I do not fathom.
Rain inundates my dreamscape.
The trees hear my every heartbeat, comforting me.
They give me shade and a shelter from the world when
Hail is falling hard….
They speak to me when the wind blows rustling leaves…
Yesterday, I walked into the afternoon sun- as it
Rose high above the treetops-
The sky appears ominous, as
Dark thunderclouds have formed on the horizon
Today it has begun to storm.
.
I walk into the woods on this sultry evening, as
The remaining sunlight fights the clouds.
Darkness overcomes.
Trees have souls and, branches that embrace,
Opening to hear my silent cries-
I whisper my tune to the wind-although
The words are unintelligible-
Thunder is the pounding of my heart –
Lightening, my silent cries.
The wind captures my every emotion, and
Carries away in song…
Claudia Krizay
poem by Claudia Krizay
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Lamp Lit Darkness In shadow Night
solo singer sang her soul songs
she sang opera upon life stage
all spell cast audience sat silently
listened silently sitting settled in chairs
listened to words in notes voice rapture
after success show was song sung over
an audience rose left slowly silent still
living echo of vibrant voice words enthrill
heard rosaceae heart opened bloomed
like life bloom song of vital rich red rose
later only I watched petal bloom free soul
after singer had cast off her formal shoes
to run barefoot in soft mist falling rain
to run through fresh puddles soft forming
in lamp lit mist darkness in shadow night
your soul free you ran bliss like a young girl
you ran vision race my heart also shared
could not contain in bound clay soul feeling
light shadow light shadow race you run
through night through many nights memory
poem by Terence George Craddock
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The Cloud
The cloud surrounds me.
Unseen, It fills my cells.
Through my fears
it whispers in that deep place
where only whispers can be heard,
where darkness
creases the grey mist
of consciousness.
It shields me
from howling despair
and stays my trembling hand
from sundering
bleak soul
from throbbing heart.
In holy silence
the cloud envelopes my fear
and with lustrous grace
strengthens my will
to persevere.
poem by Steven Federle
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Of You
I walk alone most every night,
Beneath the stars that shine so bright,
Bright as the eyes of you.
And when the sky comes falling down,
And there is darkness all around, all around,
Ill be looking for you.
Lonely I look at the dream-flowing meadow
Wondring what I am to do.
Sun going down and the trees cast their shadow,
In the shadow and the mist, I remember the last kiss of you.
And when the sky wants more blue,
I get that old longing to, to be held in the arms of you.
(repeat)
To be held in the arms of you.
song performed by by Monkees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Demystified for M' lady Cate
The mist persists, it will insist
it has the right to block the light
with trailing wisps of dirty white.
The mist is wrong and it will learn
to leave when it has served its turn
Because the sun will rise and burn
the remnants of the mist away
There is no way that it can stay
once the bright sun comes out to play.
The mist defeated has to go.
It leaves reluctantly and slow
but where it goes I do not know.
It will return with fall of night
lurk in the darkness hid from sight.
Unless outlined by the moonlight.
The silver light makes it appear
to be the ghosts which cause men fear.
But they will quickly disappear
When banks of cloud obscure the light.
Be re-absorbed into the night.
to their dismay but men’s delight.
The mists persist they wont desist
as long as day and night exist
and if they did they would be missed.
The moisture which the mist supply
the plants trees drink thirstily.
Without the mists some plants would die.
1-Jun-08
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Binding The Wind
You are breathing
It is cold
And your breath
Is seen in the wind
As white smoke
As you speak
I see your
Words in the air
And the wind
Carries them
All to me
In my nostrils
Then to my heart
I take my fingers
Touching your
Mouth feeling
Your lips
Molding some
Words of white smoke
To this cold day
I am cold
And weak
But I shall have
A way of making
My fingers coil
Into a rope
And I shall
Bind the wind
Where your words
Are contained
My fingers
Ropes of this
Meticulous mind
In this lovely chase
It is cold today
I am weak today
I bind the wind
Your words of
Love your warmth
In affection
And I bind them
All as I bundle
Them into a pillow
On my head
A pillow in my heart
On this cold day
I will not be weak.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I dunno
I dunno i dont care
I worry I hope I say
Im here im there
I hurt others though my own despair
I live lonely noone at the moment
Day by day
Im lost with no map, no compass and no flair
running from my own despair
But am not getting anywhere
A mixture is how i feel
Damp and dry
Cold and wet
Weird and round on my own I frown
I frown with no sound hoping is my non existant sound
Im lost, but able
Im here and proud hoping to be a cloud
Above everything with a great view
Drifting slowly baked by the sun, reminded by the moon
Im thinking, im thinking of words to say
But am empty, drained and still here
So i try, try more, run more, keep hoping and try to not end up a fool
Dream scape at night when you were not beside me
Time melts for sure you have seen
how Dali did it once tables float in air
hairs become rain and eyes
can be suns or moons in technicolor
skies like sweeping brooms made of
leafless branches of dead trees
in all these there is one horrible limitation
the soundless passing of images like
fog and mist and smoke and breaths
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Bell Rings
The bell rings through its own shadow.
Death knoll. Death knoll.
Reverberates and simulates the grief of eternity.
Valentine's love song chimes unheard in the ears of the pained.
They walk in stuffy, dry lines behind the moving pyre.
Why are they afraid to cry? Tradition dictates
Happiness.
They are moving to
The next world.
But no one laughs and coincidentally
No one cries
As the slow snake of despair slithers silently to the side of the stream.
The bell rings through its own shadow.
Death knoll. Death knoll.
Reverberates and simulates the grief of eternity.
Once a partnership expressed in words, now in emotion.
On this day we have opposites. The smoke rises from the bank
And every man has his head bowed. Every woman out of purile
RESPECT veils their face with mourning.
There
is
a
chain which is now broken.
There was love, there was a song,
Sung by the air, now full of smoke and flames,
Surged by the winds, now carrying her ashes
Now there is sadness and death.
The bell rings through its own shadow.
Death knoll. Death knoll.
Reverberates and simulates the grief of eternity.
The lotus trees dip over the side of the river where we used
To meet. There are two spaces on the grass were we sat.
They are empty now. The petals float away, carrying your memories
As the smoke in the air.
The bell rings through its own shadow.
Death knoll. Death knoll.
Reverberates and simulates the grief of eternity.
poem by Alex Sigston
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The Smoke Spreading Under The Trees
the smoke spread under the trees
from a certain burning firewood
on the house not far from where we talk
it spreads far
and this evening as i get too bored
we look at the hazy subject matter
as it moves farther to a certain visible distance
and despite the pollution
i imagine something more artful than this damage to my lungs
under the trees
the smog is beginning to shape itself
into a chine painting
of the dawn and its mist
like a poem written
by one of the poets that i love to read
Tu Fu, Li Po,
or was it Kulafu?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I Saw You By The Clyde
I met Scott Walker by the river,
his Golden Retriever unwinding
amongst the trees and the winterblown grass;
and I was whistling Angels of Ashes -
discordant, untrammelled, in low, slow mist
creeping between the cold deeps of grey water
and the saturated wishes written
on the faded leaves still holding,
loyal and fast, to a season we’ve lost.
And we stopped mundanely, compulsively,
and talked of venom and of gentleness;
and I couldn’t help but say that we’d lost ours.
We used to walk and he would race
around and across, nose deep into spring,
into ancient commitments
and thrill, like freedom should be,
through the nettles and budding foxgloves,
trailing his infectious atmosphere
through all the woods, and all the lochs
and all along the ragged ocean’s edge.
And I couldn’t help but see him
in that bounding song
that old repeating rhythm
on a riverbank we never shared.
And his eyes were bloodshot from the cold
and he listened as if he lived it (and he would in time) :
his smile was honest, on a knife edge like De Niro’s,
but he was gone before I realised,
through knee-high mist and haggard trees
with that blonde happiness unleashed
like random star trails darting wild,
along another riverside.
(For Don)
Old & Wise
(lead vocal - colin bluntstone)
As far as my eyes can see
There are shadows approaching me
And to those I left behind
I wanted you to know
Youve always shared my deepest thoughts
You follow where I go
And oh when Im old and wise
Bitter words mean little to me
Autumn winds will blow right through me
And someday in the mist of time
When they asked me if I knew you
Id smile and say you were a friend of mine
And the sadness would be lifted from my eyes
Oh when Im old and wise
As far as my eyes can see
There are shadows surrounding me
And to those I leave behind
I want you all to know
Youve always shared my darkest hours
Ill miss you when I go
And oh, when Im old and wise
Heavy words that tossed and blew me
Like autumn winds that will blow right through me
And someday in the mist of time
When they ask you if you knew me
Remember that you were a frined of mine
As the final curtain falls before my eyes
Oh when Im old and wise
As far as my eyes can see
song performed by by Alan Parsons Project
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mist Of Desire
Well, here it comes again
That old feelin' so strong
You came into my life
I won your love for a song
And when I see you in my mind baby
Think of the words you will say
And in a mist of desire
Your love takes me away
Girl you take me away
In a mist of desire
And our love's not an ember baby
It's a raging fire
I need to be with you
What else can I say
In a mist of desire
Your love takes me away
I feel the love when we touch
I can see it in your face
I get lost in the shadows of your warm embrace
And you rush into my arms
My emotions run wild
And we're off to a love world
In a mist of desire
Girl you take me away
In a mist of desire
And our love's not an ember baby
It's a raging fire
I need to be with you
What else can I say
In a mist of desire
Your love takes me away
In a mist of desire
Your love takes me away
song performed by by Alabama
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Autumn In The South
In April when the first cool days
Foretell of winter's coming frost,
And waning sun's soft golden rays
Shine weaker now that summer's lost;
When morning mists, in veils of grey,
The trees along the river cloak,
Until the breezes blow away
The clinging mist, like clouds of smoke.
Then under skies of palest blue,
In these clear days before the cold,
The trees that shed their gowns bestrew
The fading green with flecks of gold.
© Dennis N. O'Brien,2011 - 2012
poem by Dennis N. O'Brien
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Liberty Sought For All
Words keep filling my brain.
I rarely write them down.
Because as soon as I empty my head.
Words start filling my brain again.
I can never empty my head.
For there remains too much unsaid.
Poignant thoughts, enlightened ideas, ideals.
Waiting for a poet to bring them to heal.
Words. Words. Words. Words. Words.
Whirling Whirling Whirling Whirling Words.
Waiting for a chosen moment, of precise creativity.
Waiting for a special moment, of ordained existence.
Waiting to transform
a corrupt materialistic world.
Waiting to put compassion
back into heartless hearts.
Waiting to restore love
vitality freedom and nobility.
Waiting to herald a new age
of heaven sent realized liberty.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Thoughts Whirling
The need to write
Get rid of these mixes mass of thought
What to write?
Yes, something is amiss!
Talking is not enough
Yet thoughts whirling in my head
Unaware of revelling in the words
Which flow from this pen
Still no words
Not sure what to write
Yet here it is
A whole massed mess of words
For all to read
Thought this medley of words
Brought some calmness
Shoulders more relaxed
Fragments of each thought
Clear as daylight
This muddled mass of thoughts
A verse created
By, a whirling mind
poem by Persian Khushi
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