This Grey And White After-The Rain- Winter- Cold Day
This grey and white after-the-rain winter cold day
The beauty of the world
Is so so so great-
I forget its suffering
And the forecast of our ultimate nothingness-
Instead in the light I sit and write
My deepest feeling-
Thank You God
For having made it all-
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Winter Is White
WINTER IS WHITE
Winter is white
.......dogwood white
..............forgetfulness
......... ..........an empty slate
Winter is windy
.......windless words
..............empty words
....................drifting aimlessly
Winter is cold
.......deedless words
..............barrenness
............ ........suffering cold
What sound goes there?
What meaning fills the void?
These white lies of life
...............blown sands –– no trace
.....................................–– no path
.....................blindness––no seeking
...................................... ––no faith
No seeing here
No leading love
White and no light
White and no sight
White and no flight
- March 6,2008
poem by Ben Gieske
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A Late Winter
Why is winter late this year?
Will it come or not, I fear?
Sometime it’s cloudy, sometimes sunny,
They play hide & seek, how funny!
All of sudden it is drizzling,
Then raining, then pouring,
Rain in Winter?
The seasons are in a scatter,
Its mid winter, what happens thereafter?
I feel little bit of cold
Is winter at the threshold?
Christmas is fast approaching,
but no sign of winter,
no festive feeling,
Can’t dream of a Christmas without winter,
Or a winter without Christmas.
Can’t dream of a hot Christmas night,
Or of a Christmas that is not white
If so, no shepherd will shiver out in cold,
No Angel will sing carols new or old
Baby Jesus will not be cold in the manger
No cattle will be in the shed for warmth any longer
No winter fairy tale will be sung,
No Silver Bells will be rung,
No Santa will come on his sleigh,
No Jingle Bells will be heard on the way
Christmas and Winter both go together
They are truly made for each other.
The Forest
The edge of the forest stands
Against the grey, white sky
Like a row of colourless headstones
Stripped trees emerge
Tombs of a bleak winter
Silhouetted in the dull light
Against the imaginings of man
No light or life escapes
The depths of the forest
The thoughts which swell there
Creates in them a fear
Some great sadness hidden
Branches reach out like clawed hands
Pointing into a nothingness
Or grabbing, pulling inwards
To the shadows and the darkness
Of the deathly forest floor
The silence that awaits
Far beneath the grey, white sky
The morning becomes forgotten
Beyond the edge of the forest
Where shadows hide
poem by Matthew Holloway
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Nothing I Write Can Say/ The Sadness I Feel
NOTHING I WRITE CAN SAY/ THE SADNESS I FEEL
Nothing I write can say
The sadness I feel-
The sadness I feel
Is grey as the grey sky
Cold as the dark light
Deep as the Thoughts
I fear to write.
Nothing I write
Can say the sadness I am-
Even an old man
Does not want to die,
And does not want the suffering
That comes with it.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Grey, Grey Sky
Someday I will ride the great bird
Into the sky, into the grey
And will take a bright secret of mine
Into the grey, grey sky.
And the light will come, piercing my eyes
Out of the sky, out of the grey
Come blinding and searing these eyes
Out of the grey, grey sky.
And I will find comfort in this
In the wide sky, in the wide grey
In the painful dark brightness of light
Light of the grey, grey sky.
My secret will fly away home
Into the sky, into the grey
And the great bird will follow it there
Into the grey, grey sky.
And I will be riding that bird
Bird of the sky, bird of the grey
And I will come home once again
Home to the grey, grey sky.
But for now I am weighted, earthbound
One of the mud, one of the ground
And I write this sad song to sad sound
Girl of the pavement sighs.
poem by Grace Hutton
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The Beauty Of Being In The World Jan.9,2009
THE BEAUTY OF BEING IN THE WORLD Jan.9 2009
The Beauty of being in the world,
The Beauty of Seeing,
The Beauty of these grey skies and small rain,
The Beauty of this park in all its greens.
The Beauty of morning Jerusalem light.
And three young soldiers
Killed yesterday
Defending Israel,
Ro’i Rosner 27, of Holon,
Omer Rabinovitch 23 of Arad,
Amit Robinson 20 of Kibbutz Magal,
Who will never see this Beauty again.
The Beauty of Being in the world
And I sixty- six years old, and more.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Will you forget me presently
Will you forget me presently
~
I have come to the reasoning
I were never one for this world
Will you forget me presently
Let me slip into the nothingness
From which I once came
Do not speak my name anymore
Allow me to become forgotten
For as much as I would have liked
I were never one for this world
I have come to the acceptance
That love will not find me
And by the choices I have made
A strange madness awaits
I gave my mind so I could write
I gave my heart to be inspired
And now as I look upon it all
I ask but of one little thing
Will you forget me presently
Burn my poetry and pictures
Let me become a lost memory
I were never one for this world
I never managed to quite fit in
So I ask of you in all your kindness
Will you forget me presently
poem by Matthew Holloway
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Significance, winter, November, unfold, union, bay, seemly, sky
Significance, winter, November, unfold, union, bay, seemly, sky
Winter grey has set in
And its November 7th
The skies are too light to early
They are merely and extension of this grey
Upon my rising
The bay is grey the sky and its meeting are one
They are a union
Announcing
Significance
A statement of fullness
It is the linger of these many long months
As they unfold
First fall
Honoring us with its ways of
Offering difference, warm to cold days
Rain
Ice
Sleet
Then snow, then winter
Cold
Bitter brilliance
My afternoon drink is not a warm one
My wandering come with wearing sweaters
And scarves
I for the first time actually see the
Winter coming in over the gulf coast
Unlike in the years past where it was all
Seemly a summer vacation
Copyright Dharma Barbara Rose G
poem by Dhrama Barbara Rose Guada
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Sunk & Disorderly
I've got these Winter blues
That crept upon my being
The nights are dark and very cold
So cold I keep on peeing
This seasonal disorder
That sneaked up very quickly
Makes one feel so very low
And even sometimes sickly
These dismal, dark and gloomy nights
Cause a miserable facial expression
They make one want to stay in bed
Gives great feeling of depression
I think I'll now take to my bed
My brains gone all defective
Apparently I'm suffering ‘SAD'
A disorder that's affective!
So now I'm going to hibernate
Lie in a dormant state
Wake me when the Sun comes out
By then I'll be feeling great!
Consider your verdict for C.P Sharma
.
The countryside shows black and white a winter scene that’s pure delight.
When observed by a poets eyes. The inspiration it supplies.
he will record in metered verse, before impressions can disperse
He always carries pad and pen prepared to write no matter when.
his muse commands that he must write.Imagination in full flight.
as he attempts to share with you, the simple beauty of the view.
The fields of white are broken by bare trees which show against the sky.
He finds himself a sheltered spot, the day is cold but he is not.
He is consumed by his desire to write in burning words of fire
Describe the beauty of the day before the blue sky turns to gray.
Darkness must fall and will erase the beauty lit by the suns ray.
His brain moves faster than his pen, When he gets home he’ll write again.
Re edit it and check it through. When he’s convinced that it will do.
He’ll type it into his P.C, which will present it legibly.
Then post it on the internet, a task that he will not forget.
He’ll sit and wait for the replies.His poem read by other eyes
their honest comments let him know.Has he succeeded; yes or no.
30-Dec-08
http: // blog.my space.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Where Are The Moments Of Beauty And Deepest Feeling
WHERE ARE THE MOMENTS OF BEAUTY AND DEEPEST FEELING
Where are the moments of beauty and deepest feeling?
Of longing so intense it is its own meaning
Of tears in silent pain
Of all of all so much that cannot be said or written?
Where is that beauty I feel and long for
That life which is mine sometimes
But mostly is far far behind me
With those no longer here?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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July The First
The grey roos sheltering beneath the pine trees it is a wet and a wintery Winter's day
Yet in the rain the magpie he is piping on a high branch of a tall mountain gray
And yet the weather is not cold or chilly it does not seem a bad start to July
The Winter sun by the rain is hidden and overcast looking the morning sky
The Southern Winter I feel is far more pleasant than the Southern Summer at least the weather never gets too cold
That I do find mild Winter days a bit chilly has to be proof I must be getting old
On the Winter flowering trees the red wattlebirds are calling they have a certain hoarseness in their cry
And the pied currawongs the dark crow sized birds their karrawang notes are uttering as through the park from tree to tree they fly,
The white cockatoos in the drizzling rain are squawking from other birds them one cannot mistake
They are at their noisiest in the gloam of evening and in the early morning at daybreak
Three species of white cockatoo the sulphur crested and long billed and short billed corella by voice and appearance from each other not hard to identify
They live in large flocks and to each other nearby,
The rain drizzling down from a sky that's gloomy gray
But for July the first it is mild enough for a Winter's day.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Lots Of Rain Around
Light rain may bless our gardens with its welcome shower
Blest rain may still our worries, make us once more sure.
Still rain may soften edges of the city street.
Soft rain may cool our anger, make things once more straight,
Cold rain may lighten the oppressive, summer heat.
Light rain may dampen fires of burning, seething hate.
Damp rain may grey the sound of unmeant harshness said.
Grey rain may wet our spirits, make us down and sad.
Wet rain may quicken our intent to stay indoors
Quick rain may lighten into sunshine, which endears.
poem by C. Richard Miles
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Simole elegance for M 'lady Tara
The beauty of a winter scene
that’s limned in simple black and white,
with here and there an evergreen.
To me a source of sheer delight.
Although I love the autumn hues
which recently were on display.
Replaced by austere winter views
I see the world a different way.
A pleasure to an artist’s eye,
although a limited palette.
I see no earthly reason why.
When spring arrives we should forget.
The winter beauty we have seen
because the trees are turning green.
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Cant Stop This Feeling I Got
Dear dad,
Things didnt turn out quite like I wanted them 2
Sometimes I feel like Im gonna explode
Everybody wanna see u down 4 the count
But that aint what being a real mans about
The brave and the bold hang around 4 the kill
So the bigger the hole, the bigger we fill it (fill it!)
They can hit us with all they got
But cha know what?
What?
I cant stop this feeling I got
I feel it right down 2 my toes
I cant stop this feeling I got
My body got 2 have it u know
I cant stop this feeling I got
Ill write a letter to the whole world
I cant stop this feeling I got
Every man, woman, boy and girl
Cant stop this feeling I got, I cant stop this feeling I got
I cant stop this feeling I got, I cant stop this feeling I got
I cant stop this feeling I got
U know I cant sleep at night
I cant stop, u know I love it a lot,
Im talking about an everlasting light.
I cant stop this feeling I got
I get to shaking all in my shoes
I cant stop this feeling I got
The doctor say theres nothing that he can do
Cant stop this feeling I got, cant stop this feeling I got
I cant stop this feeling I got, cant stop this feeling I got
Keep on singing now
Cant stop. try 2 tell me how 2 paint my palace,
That aint where its at,
Thats like trying 2 tell columbus that the world is flat.
If the song were singing truely is the best
Then that my brothers is the ultimate test
All in favor say aye.
We can change anything at all.
I, i, I cant stop. cant stop.
Im in a butt kicking mood tonight yall
Cant stop. cant stop.
Cant stop this feeling I got
Cant stop this feeling I got
Cant stop this feeling I got
Cant stop this feeling I got
Cant stop this feeling I got
Cant stop this feeling I got
Cant stop this feeling I got
(no, no, no, no)
Feeling, feeling, feeling, hey!
Hey, pardon me 4 living, (pardon me 4 living)
But this is my world, (this is my world)
U cant make me change (u cant make me change)
Maybe we all got to rearrange (rearrange)
Our brains (our brains)
Yeah. only we can change the world
Only we can change the world
Only we can change the world
1, 2, 1, 2, 3
I cant stop this feeling I got
I cant stop this feeling I got
I cant stop this feeling I got
Feeling, feeling, feeling, feeling, feeling, feeling, yeah!
Yeah!
song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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April
April is a cruel time
Even though the sun may shine
And world looks in the shade as it slowly comes away
Still falls the april rain
And the valleys filled with pain
And you cant tell me quite why
As I look up to the grey sky
Where it should be blue
Grey sky where I should see you
Ask why, why it should be so
Ill cry, say that I dont know
Maybe once in a while Ill forget and Ill smile
But then the feeling comes again of an april without end
Of an april lonely as they come
In the dark of my mind I can see all too fine
But there is nothing to be done when I just cant feel the sun
And the springtimes the season of the night
Grey sky where it should be blue
Grey sky where I should see you
Ask why, why it should be so
Ill cry, say that I dont know
I dont know
song performed by by Deep Purple
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cold Winter
Ive seen you, cold winter,
I know you, cold winter.
You showed me no mercy,
Still I shant forget[? ] the warning.
Youll never know how it feels to be loved.
I know you, cold winter,
You broke my heart, cold winter.
I missed you, warm summer,
Never thought Id see you, cold summer.
Youll never know how it feels to be loved.
I thank you, cold winter,
Never leave that game[? ] to lifes story.
You healed me, cold winter,
You taught me how to face the morning.
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poetry Is The Language Of Our Deepest Feeling
POETRY IS THE LANGUAGE OF OUR DEEPEST FEELING
Poetry is the language of our deepest feeling
It makes Beauty even of our Darkness
And shares with others our Light.
Without Poetry we would be less in life-
With it,
The inner anguish the soaring of the soul
Our real lives whatever they may be-
Find Meaning in Expression..
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Wintertime
Winter has come with his cold breeze
Oh how I missed the long nights and cold air
Noble winter do as whatever you please
Some bees hide in their trees
The fauna and flora in winter so rare
Winter has come with his cold breeze
You all mighty of all season that freeze the seas
Warm us with your artic flare
Noble winter do as whatever you please
Oh great winter now that I m on my knees
The snow might have something to spare
Winter has come with his cold breeze
Yesterday was like a gentle kiss
There where so many stars to stare
Noble winter do as whatever you please
So you have brought us many diseases
Now in winter people so scare
Winter has come with his cold breeze
Noble winter do as whatever you please
poem by Ayrtonn Bautista
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The Colors Are Winter Dimned
THE COLORS ARE WINTER- DIMNED
The colors are winter dimned
Fading ambers and greens
And yet the Beauty of it all-
I do not know if I have ever been so happy
As I am these days
I know it will fade
By unnatural shock God forbid
Or by a problem mestastisizing
But for now
For this morning
I am so so happy-
It is as if all this Jerusalem world I live in
Is now more beautiful than I can wholly see -
And the beauty of the leaves and the trees
The white pale and blue sky
Even the grey pavements
Say how much more Beauty is seen
Than can be ever said-
I am so happy now-
I know it cannot last and it must end-
But the colors are still here
Even as they are fading.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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