On The Brink
I was trying to communicate
the poverty of words.
We were moving in circles.
Dark figures-
afraid of each other.
What was a shame -
in restraints
of narcissism? You are
not going to take a dip
in opaque waters.
A conceptual withdrawl
from the acrimony of hills.
Night was very cool but
moon will not come down
and grass will not go up.
I will never be generous
in jokes of a monstrous
nose. The stink was awful
but roses were white and
the meaning had no confines.
poem by Satish Verma
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A Game Of Words In Circles
dismiss these words as nothing but fireflies
moving in circles around the crown of a tree
on a very dark night,
for these works of the wind are nothing
but images of ghosts
whirling on top of my head all
for nothing but a play of mental drawings
moving and moving in circles
in imaginary skies
believe me not,
i am just a poet, and a beginner at that,
move on with your life, and think
of something else, your future
your ambitions, your love
and desire, keep moving on
and leave me, i am drunk with
poetry, and i whirl on top of
my table, filled with words, that
i touch with my hands
something that i cannot tell you
because i know, you too from the
start, understands them all,
like my face in the dark, that
you have always loved, and
yet can never hold.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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From Lids
a facsimile of torture
candlelit in moony dark
i want to unread the anointed death
on this tip of an arrow,
here it comes
the hissed phrase
wrenching the gut –
for conceptual withdrawl,
dawn of dark secrets
without footprints of echo
extracting a price,
do not stop fighting,
smear me with blood
hot spurts of thrills to defend the pink
in valley of counterfeits blades,
the green was fake,
the red was fake,
pure white poison
poem by Satish Verma
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Imperative Movement
Water
Shining
Dark night
Who’s that walking past?
Only shadow on the moving waters!
Dark silence
Speaking silence
Between the shadow
And me…
One moving
On the moving waters
Me
On the dark earth
Inimitable darkness
Imperative movement!
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Going Home
UNDER the young moon's slender shield
With the wind's cool lips on mine,
I went home from the Rabitty Field
As the clocks were striking nine.
The yews were dark in the level light,
The thorn-trees dropped with gold,
And a partridge called where the dew was white
In the grass on the edge of the fold.
O, had your hand been in my hand
As the long chalk-road I trod,
The green hills of the lovely land
Had seemed the hills of God.
poem by Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
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Here Comes The Moon
Everybodys talking up a storm
Act like they dont notice it
But here it is and here it comes . . .
Here comes the moon, the moon, the moon, the moon, the moon.
Impulse always quickens when its full
As it turns my head around me
Yes it does and here it comes
Here comes the moon, the moon, the moon, the moon, the moon.
Gods gift I see thats moving up there into the night . . .
Though dark the mirror in the sky reflects us our light:
Looks like a little brother to the sun
Or mother to the stars at night
And here it is and here it comes
Here comes the moon, the moon, the moon, the moon, the moon.
Breath is always taken when its new
Enhance upon the clouds around it
Yes it is and here it comes
Here comes the moon, the moon, the moon.
song performed by by George Harrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In the Silence of the Dark
In the silence of the dark
The human silence
Feeling cool earth under me
River ran in front of me
One cool long flowing liquid line
A painting hosting a moving river
The mountain loomed before me
It's shadow illuminated from the moon
I look for you
You are not here
I know you are not with me
If I owned them, I would trade them all
The glowing stars in the night sky
Just to have you on the ground with me
But I feel you anyway
In the silence of the dark.
Injustice (What Is Justice)
What is justice for the hungry children?
Silky skin from the upper class
Lineage over the throne, claim the order.
But the poor still at the border.
Seek the green grass and white water.
Bless or not
Poverty never run away
But fair opportunity is getting smaller
As their skulls are dry.
Poverty slips smooth under the velvet robe.
Leader and reader could not say the same words
Upon the truth, they know about injustice.
poem by Malaya Roses
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In The Middle Of The Crowd
in the middle of the crowd
where there is so much noise
all mouths talking
with no one listening
all arms and hands
moving and shouting
and all feet walking to
and fro like grandfather's
clock's mechanical pendulum
when the world seems to be
crowded not just with people
but with words
dishonest words and other
things that we do not really mean
why not try the silence of the stars
outside this crowd
on the grass, soft, soft grass
with the wind, cool cool winds
why not try the silence of the stars
under the sky
why not spend a little time with
the moon
let us try silence for a while
who knows
this world may still have peace
who knows
our overbeating hearts may
find its needed rest
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Words Sometimes Take On A Own Meaning
Words sometimes take on a own meaning
and sometimes they are sharp and painful
as if there is much more to words
as if a kind of secret knowledge hides in them
that are sometimes something moving.
Words sometimes take on a own meaning
but somehow words can at times miss things
and are sometimes dependent on feelings
as if there is much more to words
when through it all love brings a kind of bonding
and so you and I are attractive to each other.
Words sometimes take on a own meaning
and daily a bond develops between us,
while you become more considerable to me,
as if there is much more to words
you constantly live in my thoughts,
while love becomes real through words.
Words sometimes take on a own meaning
as if there is much more to words…
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Charm
In darkness the loud sea makes moan;
And earth is shaken, and all evils creep
About her ways.
Oh, now to know you sleep!
Out of the whirling blinding moil, alone,
Out of the slow grim fight,
One thought to wing - to you, asleep,
In some cool room that's open to the night
Lying half-forward, breathing quietly,
One white hand on the white
Unrumpled sheet, and the ever-moving hair
Quiet and still at length! . . .
Your magic and your beauty and your strength,
Like hills at noon or sunlight on a tree,
Sleeping prevail in earth and air.
In the sweet gloom above the brown and white
Night benedictions hover; and the winds of night
Move gently round the room, and watch you there.
And through the dreadful hours
The trees and waters and the hills have kept
The sacred vigil while you slept,
And lay a way of dew and flowers
Where your feet, your morning feet, shall tread.
And still the darkness ebbs about your bed.
Quiet, and strange, and loving-kind, you sleep.
And holy joy about the earth is shed;
And holiness upon the deep.
poem by Rupert Brooke (1909)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Charm, The
In darkness the loud sea makes moan;
And earth is shaken, and all evils creep
About her ways.
Oh, now to know you sleep!
Out of the whirling blinding moil, alone,
Out of the slow grim fight,
One thought to wing -- to you, asleep,
In some cool room that's open to the night
Lying half-forward, breathing quietly,
One white hand on the white
Unrumpled sheet, and the ever-moving hair
Quiet and still at length! . . .
Your magic and your beauty and your strength,
Like hills at noon or sunlight on a tree,
Sleeping prevail in earth and air.
In the sweet gloom above the brown and white
Night benedictions hover; and the winds of night
Move gently round the room, and watch you there.
And through the dreadful hours
The trees and waters and the hills have kept
The sacred vigil while you slept,
And lay a way of dew and flowers
Where your feet, your morning feet, shall tread.
And still the darkness ebbs about your bed.
Quiet, and strange, and loving-kind, you sleep.
And holy joy about the earth is shed;
And holiness upon the deep.
poem by Rupert Brooke
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Summer Song
THERE are white moon daisies in the mist of the meadow
Where the flowered grass scatters its seeds like spray,
There are purple orchis by the wood-ways' shadow,
There are pale dog-roses by the white highway;
And the grass, the grass is tall, the grass is up for hay,
With daisies white like silver and buttercups like gold,
And it's oh! for once to play thro' the long, the lovely day,
To laugh before the year grows old!
There is silver moonlight on the breast of the river
Where the willows tremble to the kiss of night,
Where the nine tall aspens in the meadow shiver,
Shiver in the night wind that turns them white.
And the lamps, the lamps are lit, the lamps are glow-worms light,
Between the silver aspens and the west's last gold.
And it's oh! to drink delight in the lovely lonely night,
To be young before the heart grows old!
poem by Edith Nesbit
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We Are Generous
Please the poor with some money and riches of high nature,
These people need love, full of loveliness, and we are generous.
To individuals of highest repute I look at their heads
And then their hearts and wait for the day to arrive with achiness, when are they generous?
I am not poor or anything to do with the poor who are poverty,
Hearts of theirs gain momentum, we merely pass our test that is gorgeous, for we are generous.
The spoken tongue carries society further, and those without money bring
Us more money, but bring them no poverty, and bring gracefulness, we are so generous.
The tailor needed cloth, the blacksmith needs his metal, and the accountant also needs,
What of those with the flame in Hell? Their heaven is not their greatness, but we are generous.
Money has no objection to the riches being found, to the oil being discovered,
But fun is in the very life where living is explored with incisiveness, we are so generous.
Then talk never today but mutter with huge meaning, and never sleep too long,
But meet your creator with a giving heart and the soul is incredulous, for it is generous.
May we be heartiness, sweetness, and merry-making with all this wealth
Understood by men, by the kings and queens of infallibleness, for they are all generous.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Chocolate Hills
A young bird sat on tree branch,
looks here and there,
as if nothing to do
Confused whether to scream
out of woods,
fly somewhere else,
explore someplace else,
where nev’r been too
So rose I,
began to travel
fear within me,
spread my wings,
careful I,
predators hidden somewhere
And as I looked down below,
calm blue seas,
waves moving backward,
as I mov’d forward
empty white horizon beyond,
Few miles more,
green field appeared,
verdure all about,
so cool to sight,
flowers abound,
what earth’s beauty,
cracked aloud I
Few miles more,
cast me down,
sharp an’ clear,
couldn’t believe,
what’s down there.
What makes diff'rent from others?
taste buds perspires,
waters actually,
hills of chocolate, no wonder,
believe it or not,
Hover'd over once more,
twice more,
investigated the more,
then dropped over,
an’wonder’d still
Admires the brown scenery,
the once green grass perhaps,
convinced to golden brown,
by white hot sun,
oh, miracle n’ the making
Mud thrown about by naughty titans,
or formed tear liked,
from young love in despair,
as legend once told, .
Countless dark chocolate hills,
queue in rows,
all in same sizes, shapes,
packed like kisses,
ready for sale to touring men
The long hot summer,
shou'd have meltdown an’ simmer,
but none there is
Comes next wet season,
electric green grass,
resurrected life once more,
chocolate no more,
but insist to remain there,
broccoli liked lookin’ this time,
at this hour sellin’ still to touring few,
Novice I young falcon,
returns the next hot rising,
to witness again,
the turnin’ golden leaf,
of the ten world’s wonders,
the chocolate hills
poem by Noel Horlanda
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The Cool Living Waters
the cool living waters of spring
plunge in like a hot rod wanting pacification
flames of fire
cinders of desire
let us be calm and swim in the cool living waters
of divinity
nude we realize there is shame and we stand
and take the clothes of morality
then we rest under the cool shades of green trees
beside the brook
the winds from the mountains refresh what dimples we have
and we reflect upon the words of God
time moves and stays a while and this evil of boredom comes
idle moments craving for more
and then we stand and play under the sun
we run, we play, we sweat and those that watch us
begin to think
that we are sinners on the loose
cool living waters i ask
bathe and wash all their dirty minds
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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By Broad Potomac's Shore
BY broad Potomac's shore--again, old tongue!
(Still uttering--still ejaculating--canst never cease this babble?)
Again, old heart so gay--again to you, your sense, the full flush
spring returning;
Again the freshness and the odors--again Virginia's summer sky,
pellucid blue and silver,
Again the forenoon purple of the hills,
Again the deathless grass, so noiseless, soft and green,
Again the blood-red roses blooming.
Perfume this book of mine, O blood-red roses!
Lave subtly with your waters every line, Potomac!
Give me of you, O spring, before I close, to put between its
pages! 10
O forenoon purple of the hills, before I close, of you!
O smiling earth--O summer sun, give me of you!
O deathless grass, of you!
poem by Walt Whitman
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She Is Looking For The Simplicity Of You
she is looking for nothing but the simplicity
of the sea
the plain salt in water
you may even remove the bluish part of it
she is expecting nothing in the landscape
but only the grass on the hills
you may remove the house nearby
and the running brook
the moon at night need not even be there
the star can be dispensed with
you may only give her the darkness and the silence
of the grass and the hills
she is looking for nothing except that you
the one she loves must be there tonight
you may even dispense with the body
the hands and the face and the thighs
you may take them all away from her
she needs only the presence of your words
or even if you take the last word that you cannot give
you leave her the sigh unspoken by you
that will still suffice
she loves you and it is enough for her to last for another day
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Fishin' In The Dark
Lazy yellow moon comin' up tonight
Shinin' through the trees
Crickets are singin' and lightning bugs
Are floatin' on the breeze
Baby get ready
Across the field where the creek turns back
By the old stump road
I'm gonna take you to a special place
That nobody knows
Baby get ready
Ooooh - Ooh!
You and me goin' fishin' in the dark
Lyin' on our backs and countin' the stars
Where the cool grass grows
Down by the river in the full moonlight
We'll be fallin in love
In the middle of the night
Just movin' slow
Stayin' the whole night through
Feels so good to be with you!
Spring is almost over and the summer's comin'
The days are gettin' long
I've waited all winter for the time to be right
Just to take you along
Baby get ready
And it don't matter if we sit forever
And the fish don't bite
We'll jump in the river and cool ourselves
From the heat of the night
Baby get ready
Ooooh - Ooh!
You and me goin' fishin' in the dark
Lyin' on our backs and countin the stars'
Where the cool grass grows
Down by the river in the full moonlight
We'll be fallin' in love
In the middle of the night
Just movin' slow
Stayin' the whole night through
Feels so good to be with
You and me go fishin
(You and me goin' fishin in the dark)
in the dark
Lyin' on our backs and countin' the stars
Where the cool grass grows
Down by the river (Down by the river)
in the full moonlight
We'll be fallin' in love
(We'll be fallin in love)
in the middle of the night
Just movin' slow
Feels so good to be with....
You and me go fishin' (You and me go
fishin in the dark) in the dark
Lyin on our backs and countin' the stars
Where the cool grass grows
song performed by by Nitty Gritty Dirt Band
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Disappearance
It is doubtless
Like the sun rises up
Tomorrow in the eastern sky
Though you left
Saying return to night
Not an absence journey
Has been placed and gone
Gazing yet desperately but with hopes
From that day to today
As well used to
In a night; perhaps in a midnight
You will knock at the door
Murmuring a stanza in a song
My soul in sick
Burning in fire with night mares
It is a rainless thunder in white night
Make me afraid
It is sure
You will arrive
But I don't ask or tell
Where have you been and happened
What is said to your smile?
I am in a doubt for one thing;
Last the day of full moon
Night was so dark and silence
Moon did not appear even a star
But I hope you will appear
My son the moon
poem by Udaya R. Tennakoon
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Coming Up Roses
Im a junkyard full of false starts
And I dont need yr permission
To bury my love under this bare light bulb
The moon is a sickle cell
Itll kill you in time
You cold white brother riding yr blood
Like spun glass in sore eyes
While the moon does its division youre buried below
And youre coming up roses everywhere you go
Red roses follow
The things that you tell yourself
Theyll kill you in time
You cold white brother alive in yr blood
Spinning in the night sky
While the moon does its division youre buried below
And youre coming up roses everywhere you go
Red roses
So you got in a kind of trouble that nobody knows
And youre coming up roses everywhere you go
Red roses
song performed by by Elliott Smith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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