Sprouting Seeds
Turnover my secret past
I have to dig up my future
In the hour of crumbling walls and dark
clouds.
Pale moon becomes a beacon
in another version of solitude
where nobody speaks of sores and premature
death.
I stay away from twinkling stars,
from the blossoms of traveling night
and winds which are moving towards the
sky.
Sullied words will go for a conspiracy
making a ghost of my garden
where seeds are sprouting.
poem by Satish Verma
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Related quotes
Twighlight
The moon is shining bright up above us all
my new moon looks after me protects me
I look up at the stars when twilight comes
shooting stars fly past me twinkling in my eyes
i see the reflection of the moon in the dark dark sea
the gravity of the moon pulls the sea making the waves
that go in and out in and out
i see something a female form splashing in the sea as she gets nearer to my astonishment and surprise its a mermaid swimming over to me
poem by Elizabeth Frances Wilcock
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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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Will winds come?
Sky was dark.
Holding thick bundles of rain inside
waiting for winds to
open bundles of rain,
take away heavy bundles
and free me to play with
white cool light clouds.
Sky was worried.
Will winds come and free me
from this dark bundles of rain
making me feel tired
making my knees paining?
When will those winds come?
How long I have to carry these dark bundles?
Waiting for winds
will I fall down
with tiring weakening bundles
of these dark clouds
in my hand?
Even the sun is moving down
with colour changing to red
going for rest for night.
When will these winds come?
Am I destined to fall down
tired and exhausted
with ever increasing burden
of these dark clouds in my hand?
10, September,2008
poem by Thomas Viruvelil
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Ask the moon
Ask the moon
Over the hills and deep valleys
flowing between the clouds
and floating in the
savory eyes of lake
a silent little lonely peice of moon
wrapped in sparkle of twinkling stars
constantly moves around
between day and night
how it feels to live in solitude
Ask the moon......
poem by Seema Gupta
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Sonnet: Our Life On Earth
The Moon is shining less brightly than 'fore,
And seems to fade behind thick clouds that sail;
Its dim outline too fades with time much more;
The ghost-like Moon appearing truly pale!
But not for long, the Moon is back whole-size;
The clouds that blocked its view have gone away;
The Moon is shining once again- so nice!
The night now looks as if it has turned day.
Our life on earth is like the Moon and Sun;
Its joys and sorrows wax and wane till death;
Sometimes, our life is full of vigour, fun,
To some like stars remain until last breath.
This is the way things happen on earth Man,
And changing them altogether, none can.
poem by John Celes
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Oakland
Steel slugs slam
into black, shattered walls,
dim cars grinding
down sanguine streets
careening
into the black well
of night.
The sun,
dropping into deep,
inky waters
shines
on some other world,
and the pale moon
pours thick silence
into the portals of our ears.
We lift our faces
into black rain,
to purify sullied eyes
left bloody and dim
by the death of children,
the strangulation of faith.
She watches and weeps
And waits for words
she longs to hear,
“Ave Maria…pray for us sinners, ”
and at once dropping
to bended knee
gazes
into His human eyes.
“now and at the hour”
The hour of a million sins
The hour of deep silence
Come home at last,
“of our death”
as bitter wormwood bores deep
in the bowels of our fear.
Smiling,
she intones her answer,
“Amen.”
poem by Steven Federle
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My Father’s Son
Once
when I was still a baby boy
obsessed, thrilled with dark night sky
father said, shut your eyes tightly
then sailed I into dark night sky
dreaming of my arms
dipping in deep, dark-blue velvety
palpating golden sheen of the golden full moon
snatching twinkling stars.
But
i fell like lead
just before hard ground
to my father’s arms- veinated, calloused
his chirped nails safely grabbed
then
i opened my eyes
stretching my empty arms, pink nails
for a earnest glimpse of
a dip of deep, dark-blue velvety
golden sheen of the golden full moon
snatched twinkling stars.
and I felt sad.
Then-
father buried his head on my nape
his grizzly beard tickling my face
making little ‘blurp’ ‘blurp’ sounds
my shrill laughter
accosting his deep throaty laughter
echoing my disappointment into dark night sky
before sailing me into dark night sky
back to his rough-gentle arms
again
again
and again
to dip in deep, dark-blue velvety
palpate golden sheen of the golden full moon
snatching twinkling stars.
“Drink all Ma’s omena* soup
to be taller, reach the dark night sky”
father said, following my gaze
into the dark night sky
static radio bleating reggae
golden full moon bathing us in golden sheen
just me and my father
sleeping in his rough-gentle arms
dreaming of my arms
dipping in deep, dark-blue velvety
palpating golden sheen of the golden full moon
snatching twinkling stars
poem by Manuel Odeny
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Untitled pieces III
Untitled pieces III
My feet hanging from the roof,
I sit staring at the sky,
Some stars twinkling far away,
The moon drowned in the dark,
The trees so silent-leaves motionless,
Strike a chord-the music begins!
I see my shadow evolve in the field,
Much longer - much darker than me,
Reminding me of those golden days,
Much shorter-much happier than today,
A joy in my heart-a bunch of friends,
Sang songs of life-brought life in life!
The breeze brings in a scent of solitude,
The silent trees have lulled the birds asleep,
The motionless leaves have hidden the fruits,
The faint moon has emptied the sky,
There is a void in the air,
As I reflect on my toy of thoughts.
Will I be lost like those fruits in the dark?
Will I be drowned like the moon in solitude?
Will I be silent like those trees?
Will I be motionless like those leaves?
The night is devilish bringing thoughts of end,
Like those twinkling stars passing into nothingness.
poem by Saket Suman
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Someone In The Dark
Written and composed by michael jackson
(opening version)
All alone wishing on stars
Waiting for you to find me
One sweet night I knew I would see
A stranger whod be my friend
When someone in the dark reaches out to you
And touches off a spark that comes shining through
It tells you never be afraid
Then somewhere in your heart you can feel the glow
A light to keep you warm when the night winds blow
Like it was written in the stars I knew
My friend, my someone in the dark was you
Promise me well always be
Walking the world together
Hand in hand where dreams never end
My star secret friend and me
When someone in the dark reaches out to you
And touches off a spark that comes shining through
It tells you never be afraid
Then somewhere in your heart you can feel the glow
A light to keep you warm when the night winds blow
Look for the rainbow in the sky
I believe you and i
Could never really say goodbye
Wherever you may be
Ill look up and see
Someone in the dark for me
Wherever you may be
Ill look up and see
Someone in the dark for me
(closing version)
Though youre gone star far away
Each time I see a rainbow
Ill remember being with you
Smiles coming through my tears
When someone in the dark reaches out for you
And touches off a spark that comes shining through
It tells you never be afraid
Then somewhere in your heart you can feel the glow
A light to keep you warm when the night winds blow
Look for the rainbow in the sky
I believe you and i
Could never really say goodbye
Wherever you may be
Ill look up and see
Someone in the dark for me
Wherever you may be
Ill look up and see
Someone in the dark for me!
song performed by by Michael Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Farewell To Miss E. B.
(Written in her sixteenth year.)
Farewell, and whenever calm solitude's hour,
Shall silently spread its broad wings o'er your bower,
Oh! then gaze on yon planet, yon watch-fire divine,
And believe that my soul is there mingling with thine.
When the dark brow of evening is beaming with stars,
And yon crest of light clouds is the turban she wears,
When she walks forth in grandeur, the queen of the night,
Oh! then think that my spirit looks on with delight.
O'er the ocean of life our frail vessels are bounding,
And danger and death our dark pathway surrounding;
Destruction's bright meteors are dancing before,
And behind us the winds of adversity roar.
Oh! then come, let us light friendship's lamp on the wave,
If we're lost, it will shed its pure light o'er the grave,
Or 't will guide to the haven of Heaven at last,
And beam on when the voice of the trumpet hath past.
poem by Lucretia Maria Davidson
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Unexpected
Dim looked the stars then disappeared
Behind the clouds pale moon appeared.
Like a damsel after a shower,
Combed hair on face lower.
The clouds passed the sky cleared,
The stars and moon again appeared.
As fairy moving away her hair,
Her face appeared so clean and fair.
Things looked calm the night waning,
The clouds gathered anew the planning.
A shawl the sky wore again,
The bitter breeze again began.
On chest of earth fell flakes of snow,
No dawn joy, no life's flow.
The trees and roofs were clothed in white,
Thus harsh became a pleasant night.
poem by Jahan zaib
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Falling Asleep
Voices moving about in the quiet house:
Thud of feet and a muffled shutting of doors:
Everyone yawning. Only the clocks are alert.
Out in the night there’s autumn-smelling gloom
Crowded with whispering trees; across the park
A hollow cry of hounds like lonely bells:
And I know that the clouds are moving across the moon;
The low, red, rising moon. Now herons call
And wrangle by their pool; and hooting owls
Sail from the wood above pale stooks of oats.
Waiting for sleep, I drift from thoughts like these;
And where to-day was dream-like, build my dreams.
Music ... there was a bright white room below,
And someone singing a song about a soldier,
One hour, two hours ago: and soon the song
Will be ‘last night’: but now the beauty swings
Across my brain, ghost of remembered chords
Which still can make such radiance in my dream
That I can watch the marching of my soldiers,
And count their faces; faces; sunlit faces.
Falling asleep ... the herons, and the hounds....
September in the darkness; and the world
I’ve known; all fading past me into peace.
poem by Siegfried Sassoon
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How Many Nights The Stars Came Out
How many nights the stars came out
And peeped from heaven’s windows in the night
And lightened up the bosom of the sea
Wherein like twinkling diamonds they shone
How many waves around the craggy shores
On whom the Fort dilapidated frowns
How many rustles kissed the crags
In every inch and foot by the sea-shore
And as with every kiss the rustling sea
Ebbed slow and gentle in its harmony:
And the pale moon looked on inconstantly
And in and out the sea-currents flowed incessantly:
I cannot say nor can the winds and stars
That every night come out:
And peep from heaven’s windows in the night.
poem by Emmanuel George Cefai
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The Night Sky
Night sky, Night sky
Twinkling stars near by
White moon, white moon
You light up the night in full bloom
The night in display
Watching this sky play
Hiding behind the clouds
Are these silvery bright stars
Ready in action
The sky a distraction
Sweet kiss from these tender lips
And the feeling of love at my finger tips
poem by Noreen Fonseca
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Remembrance
I adore the rise of moon
and the stars shining bright
bringing me your remembrance
in the solitude of night.
Moonlight seems flowery spread on earth
merging in the sea
river quenching its thirst
waves exulting in expectations
rejoice and swoon
under the moon & moonlight
when I remember you
in the solitude of night.
Decked with flowers
lass on a swing
like a cuckoo,
she then sings
and shehnai being played far off, echoing.
Hoping to meet her beloved,
she blossoms like a flower of mustard
song of separation makes love deep
her love erupts when separation seeps
all bringing me your remembrance
in the solitude of night
under the moonlight.
Putting me in trance
resonance of your voice
watching me in this state
you glow and rejoice
casting a spell, who deserts me at dawn
remembrance comes again then
under the moonlight
in the solitude of night.
I adore the rise of moon
and the stars shining bright
bringing me your remembrance
in the solitude of night.
poem by Tribhawan Kaul
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Scandal
Aren't there bigger things to talk about
Than a window in Greenwich Village
And hyacinths sprouting
Like little puce poems out of a sick soul?
Some cosmic hearsay—
As to whom—it can't be Mars! put the moon—that way….
Or what winds do to canyons
Under the tall stars…
Or even
How that old roué, Neptune,
Cranes over his bald-head moons
At the twinkling heel of a sky-scraper.
poem by Lola Ridge
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Powder Prime
The jackals jerking on the jess of Time
shall slip their shackles. Hordes, like ancient huns
whose spears seem toys before tomorrow’s guns,
show Man is Man’s worst enemy in crime.
The match is lit, prepared the powder prime.
The hour-glass empties, trickle quick_sand runs
between a pointless Past and Future suns.
Uncertain Present hangs, pale phantomime.
Aquarius prepares the floods to come,
while voices in the wilderness – which dumb
should have remained – shall sudden find a tongue.
The storm clouds murky warnings mass, the sum
of signs speaks volumes which – when read - leave numb.
A new age beacon beckons, web undone...
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Constant Time
Time past and the future give way to this present picture,
But can somebody tell me how to recognize that gate that leads to the bed of roses,
We speak about the future like the past is a grain of sand on the shore,
Washed away by the ocean tide,
Giving way to new grains to make a portrait of the present,
These past memories stay deep in our heart like the depths of the ocean,
Though it gets washed back to shore ones in a blue moon,
Reminding us that our past is a standard measurement of our strength,
Time moves so fast making the past to fade away,
this makes us seem so secured about the present,
Forgetting the fact that our present becomes our past that was once a present from nature as a new day,
Some take the future to be a dream and a wish,
But I take my future to be what I see when I stand from the bottom of the mountain to look at the top,
And my past to be the depth of the ocean that can always be washed ashore …
The only thing I can control is my present,
Yes cos my mind controls my hands to give you a flash of what goes on in my head
Like this words i write to you was once my future and will become my past, making my future my past and my past my future..So ironical isn’t it?
Standing here I sure know 1 thing,
I will reach the top by that foot path,
Yes of course it’s not to mean that I wouldn’t fall,
But I have to break myself off my present past and walk with grace to stand where I belong,
There where I am the king of my destiny,
The past is just going to be a page of memories,
And my future will become my present making time constant in my head,
Because I stand on my past which was once my present and my present which was once my future, making time equal and constant
As I flip thru this page of life,
By: ade
poem by Adeniran Oluokun
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When You Define A Thing
when you define
a thing, you limit it,
it is like fencing
your garden
the garden becomes
a set of exclusive
flowers, and anything
not like it becomes
a weed, and anything
that moves
becomes a pest
it is not that you
do not define, we do
it sometimes
only to understand
the limits of
understanding,
but we must be open
to other possibilities
of a garden,
a garden of stones
a garden of sand
of mud, of water
a fountain, a garden
of winds, of clouds
a garden of memories
like a poem
for instance, a garden
of words,
words with arms open
to the magic
of further creation
words still trying
to define themselves
in the garden
of the unknown
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Mirror Pools Of Split Reflections
life has many mirror...
pools of split reflection...
daylight oil spreads out
across surface mirror
of water oiled in rainbow
diesel dance bright hues
watch ghost dance change
images bend twist stir
in motions across mirror
night tide dawns sweeps
away rainbows moon shines
in reflection pools ghost
image sears in your face
hot passion winds summer
chill still spine needles winter
clouds sweep across moon...
dark upon black ink dark...
penetrate dark formless mirror
poem by Terence George Craddock
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