Crows in a Stubble Field
Along the tracks
in this field of straw,
tawny stubble
cut down by indifferent,
efficient hands,
I see sentient crows,
black shadows scrutinizing
lifeless stalks
like careful surveyors,
reclaiming this savaged world,
when, blaring, the train
shatters the air and scatters
the redeeming birds
into black angry clouds,
cawing into the twilight sky.
poem by Steven Federle
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
(Waiting For) The Ghost Train
A straw headed woman, and a barrel chested man,
A pocket full of posies with a hat brim full of sand,
Ooh - waiting for the train that never comes,
A dog chasing the tumbleweeds, across the sandy floor,
That drift along the platform, through the ticket office door,
Ooh - waiting for the train that never comes,
Ooh - waiting for the train that never comes,
But don't tell me there's nothing coming, you don't fool me,
I hear the ghost train rumbling along the tracks - set them free,
And I hear them,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
The station master's writing with a piece of orange chalk,
A hundred cancellations, still no one wants to walk,
Keep the hungry children from the skeletons in the back,
Paid to keep an eye out for the gipsy caravan,
Ooh - waiting for the train that never comes,
Ooh - waiting for the train that never comes,
I hear the ghost train rumbling along the tracks - set them free,
And I hear them,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white (don't try),
It's black and white (don't try),
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
And I hear them,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white don't try to hide
song performed by by Madness
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Ghost Train
A straw headed woman, and a barrel chested man,
A pocket full of posies with a hat brim full of sand,
Ooh - waiting for the train that never comes,
A dog chasing the tumbleweeds, across the sandy floor,
That drift along the platform, through the ticket office door,
Ooh - waiting for the train that never comes,
Ooh - waiting for the train that never comes,
But don't tell me there's nothing coming, you don't fool me,
I hear the ghost train rumbling along the tracks - set them free,
And i hear them,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
The station master's writing with a piece of orange chalk,
A hundred cancellations, still no one wants to walk,
Keep the hungry children from the skeletons in the back,
Paid to keep an eye out for the gipsy caravan,
Ooh - waiting for the train that never comes,
Ooh - waiting for the train that never comes,
I hear the ghost train rumbling along the tracks - set them free,
And i hear them,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white (don't try),
It's black and white (don't try),
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
And i hear them,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white don't try to hide...
song performed by by Madness
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Gazing suicides
I thought of dying today
Gazing down to the train track below
So shiny and black.
I heard the tracks calling me to join them below.
I heard them say if you want to jump
Then jump go on just jump.
I though I'd chuck myself away
Thought I'd fall below
To the train tracks underneath.
I thought it through and through.
With nothing else left to do
I let the train tracks call me below.
I ve sufferd enough in this evil world
Theres to much evil that lurks.
The world is a sain place for some.
It wasnt for me
I lived a life full of pain.
Things got to much
So I listened to the tracks below me
I knew it made sense for me.
I took the plunge
And I jumped down to the tracks below me
As I fall
I will die below
Things are meant for some
And this was meant for me
The train tracks told me so
Amy Kerswell
poem by Amy Louise Kerswell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Gazing suicide
I went to the train tracks.
I sat on the bridge above.
My life has beaten me.
As I looked down below me.
I saw the tracks before my eyes.
So shiny and black.
My troubles.
My hurt.
And years of pain.
They had gotten the better of me.
It all became clear and I knew what I had to do.
I had to join the train tracks below me
I had to die
poem by Amy Louise Kerswell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Big Black Crows
big black crows
keep following me
everywhere i go....
and this morning i heard
the trees whsipering,
as we rode down the road......
drifting clouds, and vacant buildings,
people walking, heads bent down.
children's faces staring out frosted windows,
old dog lying in the sun.
shadows forming faces,
then dissolving back to shadow.....
memories hang like nails on the wall,
that the Painter's brush cant quite hide.
the scent of perfume, wind devils and rust....
big black crows and ashes drifting,
from a heart set on fire!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Dreamt...
i dreamt...
i was dead,
and they'd buried me
on a hill with
a small stone marker.
and i watched
as seasons passed,
one by one,
in constant rhythm...
the years went by.
and no living being
ever visited my graveside,
except for black crows...
again and again,
black crows!
the caw of the crows!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Black Autumn
Comes the cold, black, wake of autumn,
harbouring its' pique on naked limb;
damp, feral winds astir
to the stalking, hawking,
and hideous squawking...
of ominous, impetuous birds;
large and intrusively pestilent,
inexorabally circling,
'neath the late day shadows
of a cold november sunfall.
And the crows of Autumn, wear angry eyes,
the kind you felt on the back of your neck
when you read Edgar Allan's ''Raven''.
Teasing the breeze-spun tumbleweeds,
as they roll over cornfields... spewing-
threads and shard of stick, and husk,
gaunt signs of a harvest dying.
Clouds bleed deep sage, and drape
over the foreboding presence
of these dark-winged beasts in flock,
fecklessly searching for any sign
that autumn had not yet abandoned them.
Dark and black, blackest black, hovering,
over the last man standing,
in this smoke-dry field,
rigidly stationed with stoic poise,
donned in spirited, tattered plaid,
guardian of the harvest,
protector of the field,
intrepidly perched over its cornucopia
of waning autumntide-offerings.
Thus, hanging upon six feet of wood
stands the Scarecrow,
weathered, yet sturdy,
in a pose of crucifixion.
And, the taunting begins,
with a strident kick of breeze,
as the crows fly low, in arrowed flank,
with bitter, and arrogance-
their Autumn slipping away.
Swooping to the gust of a winter prelude,
obsessively circling, their black eyes gleaming,
the strawman succumbs
to a wind-flounced dance,
and to the evil delight of its menacing prey,
while Wind choirs strond...in loud soprano
like high-pitched fifes on air.
And Autumn dies colourless;
bare, brittle in burial.
No Death Hymn be sung
as winter seals its casket.
And the crows, cold and jaded,
fly away as they came,
wreak havoc south of cotton
untill the April month -
when melting ice unveils
fresh buds on lonesome branches
of a Spring awaiting breath,
and hence, they come again
once again...and stay they will
'til the next black Autumn.
poem by Frank James Ryan Jr.
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Reality...one
in a field of grass
underneath the morning clouds
a man with a black hat
white polo and marine blue pants
rides on a red motorbike
followed by a brown dog
and a black horse
one upon the other they tread
upon the road that you are talking
blue birds fly the skies
above the poplars
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Black Heart
Black Heart is shame
Black Heart is pain
I'm so black hearted, I have no name
Black Heart is sadness
Black Heart is no hope
I'm so black hearted, I'm about to pick up a rope(hang)
Black Heart is lonely
Black Heart is wanting to kill
I'm so black hearted, I'm about to take pills(overdose)
Black Heart is angry
Black Heart is despair
I'm so black hearted, i can't have a another pair(lover)
poem by Avontae' Miller
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Verwoerd is Black
This poem is pregnant
with the black bloodshed of 1976.
This poem is constipated
with slavery of the poor.
This poem is the titanic of people’s hopes
sinking in the freezing ocean of democracy.
This poem is the enemy of the state,
‘cause, this poem bears testimony.
Don’t you know?
Verwoerd is black.
This poem is a hook that fishes
odd deeds buried behind black faces.
This poem is a mirror
that reflects odd unknown images
of stinking rich black men.
This poem is the voice of the angry dead.
This poem is a hammer to nail
in the brain of greedy politicians.
This poem is a database
of all black leaders.
This poem bears testimony.
Don’t you know?
Verwoerd is black.
This poem is for you
black man who spits
at the sight of a white man.
This poem is for you
white man who owns a savaged land
full of secret mass graves.
This poem is for you
black and white who hug and kiss
to please Madiba.
This poem is for you
the poor, who sing:
freedom has finally come.
This poem is for you, who know no truth,
‘cause, this poem bears testimony.
Don’t you know?
Verwoerd is black.
This poem is for you
my brother & sister who have lost taste
of your mother-tongue
in the multiracial Model C schools.
This poem is for you
black mama, who has configured her black being
‘cause black is barbaric.
This poem is the anger of hunger.
This poem is for the unemployed voters
who find solace in booze, sex & crime.
This poem bears testimony.
Don’t you know?
Verwoerd is black.
poem by Mpho Ramaano
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It has rained enough
to turn the stubble on the field
black.
haiku by Matsuo Basho
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lonliness (Feels)
lonliness...
feels like,
the train passing,
middle of the night,
long forgotten tracks.
the factory building empty,
set ablaze by anger.
the flight of the crows,
pawprints left by a stray cat.
the tears of a man
when he thinks that
no one can see.
the clouds that bury stars,
the trees that hold up the sky.
the black hand of death
wrenching light from the heart.
the prayer long unanswered.
the echo of your own voice,
the key that doesnt fit the lock.
unmarked stones in a graveyard.
the windowpane covered with dust.
the lone wolf staring,
the letter sent to the wrong address.
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Black and White
My world is black and white,
The colors I see is black and white,
Hold me tight,
Don’t let me go,
See the tears I have cried,
Listen to my cry,
Look into my eyes,
My world is black and white,
Cut my wrist,
Black my eyes,
Blacken these thoughts I think of,
Black and white is all I can see,
The tears is all I can feel,
Feel me fading away,
Watching myself falling apart,
Look deep into my eyes,
Can you see me,
Can you feel the pain I feel,
I don’t understand why I am feeling this sad,
All the moments that once we shared has faded away like others have,
I never did tried to see the beyond the black and white clouds,
I need to face what I have become,
I need to find my way back,
The black and white is all I can see and feel,
My world has been black and white.
poem by Jennifer Rondeau
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sunset: St. Louis
Hushed in the smoky haze of summer sunset,
When I came home again from far-off places,
How many times I saw my western city
Dream by her river.
Then for an hour the water wore a mantle
Of tawny gold and mauve and misted turquoise
Under the tall and darkened arches bearing
Gray, high-flung bridges.
Against the sunset, water-towers and steeples
Flickered with fire up the slope to westward,
And old warehouses poured their purple shadows
Across the levee.
High over them the black train swept with thunder,
Cleaving the city, leaving far beneath it
Wharf-boats moored beside the old side-wheelers
Resting in twilight.
poem by Sara Teasdale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Racist: I Have Saw Discrimination
Don't be a hater, a racist, evil
because I SAW discrimination
One day not so long ago a white man walked into a cafe'
and rudely asked a BLACK man to leave the seat
WELL! ! ! ! the BLACKman turned around and started composing one of
the most beautiful but unknown speeches in that time
'Sir when you were born you were pink,
when you're sick you're green
when you die you'll be pale
when you're angry you're red
and when you're hurt you're blue!
When I was born i was BLACK,
when i'm sick i'm BLACK
when i die i'll be BLACK
when i'm angry i'm BLACK
and when i'm hurt i'm BLACK
YOU know that and you dare to make a deal of my color?
That was what discrimination deserves
Everything is done for a reason
And i saw discrimination so i could tell YOU
poem by Golden Heart
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Malediction
I am walking in the last rays of the setting sun.
Whistling a hangmans tune with head held high swinging my gun.
I say this little boy is angry, I say this little boy is mad!
This little boy comes to destroy, stone-eyed, cold-faced in swathes of vengeance clad.
And the black cock crows. and a dead wind blows.
In my wake are seven men who tried to steal my soul.
In my belly six wild wolves curse and howl from their foul hole.
I say no earthly will may stop me, I say no earthly will may try.
No earthly will may halt the spill of blood from wounds and tears from craving eyes.
And the black cock crows. and a dead wind blows.
Below me burn the city lights like fires of pearls and jewels.
Im climbling down the city walls, unseen, unfussed - the sentries must be fools.
I say all pleasantries are over, I say all pleasantries are past.
My enemies, you pimps and thieves, prepare to meet your nemesis at last.
And the black cock crows. and the dead wind blows.
song performed by by Waterboys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Black Crows
Darkness and light, wrong and right
thoughts bleed and dissolve, dreams evolve
paper and smoke, churn and stroke
prayers drip like sweat, slavery and debt
White trash fires, unholy liars
truth falls off the edge, desire walks the ledge
political drugs, who picks the judge
hammers of fear, moments lost to years
Graves open and close, nuclear rose
black shadows turn, pages crumple and burn
lightning or gunfire, stakes higher and higher
death clock chimes, wind thru the pines...
black crows on the lines... black crows on the lines...
Mothers crying and cold, babies bought and sold
welfare Cadillacs, anxiety attacks
trailor tub meth, lonesome last breath
kneeling by the bed, prayers for the dead
Runaways lost, who pays the cost
nursing home ghosts, headstones and posts
pictures turning yellow, goodbyes and hellos
people folded and spent, no messengers sent...
Graves open and close, nuclear rose
black shadows turn, pages crumple and burn
lightning or gunfire, stakes higher and higher
death clock chimes, wind thru the pines...
black crows on the lines... black crows on the lines...
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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(Heart Still) Shatters
Lie about feeling small
Low about standing up ever tall
For there's nothing like a brawl
Guess heart still shatters to crawl
Heart still shatters
Heart still shatters to crawl
Heart still shatters
Heart still shatters to crawl
For I'm not feeling whole
Only now I don't know wish to crawl
Denial of the love being ever minimal
Guess heart still shatters to crawl
Heart still shatters
Heart still shatters to crawl
Heart still shatters
Heart still shatters to crawl
Never wanted you to ignore this plea
Even no golden marquee
Every day passes not feeling free
Guess heart still shatters to see
Heart still shatters
Heart still shatters to see
Heart still shatters
Heart still shatters to see
Letting me forget priority
A memory passes over recently
So hurt now but so easily
Guess heart still shatters to see
Heart still shatters
Heart still shatters to see
Heart still shatters
Heart still shatters to see
But now I struggle to even adore
A hope goes out open doors
Left feeling like that of sore
Guess heart still shatters to ignore
Heart still shatters
Heart still shatters to ignore
Heart still shatters
Heart still shatters to ignore
For unsure what's in store
May leave me feeling unsure
Here life isn't yet pure
Guess heart still shatters to ignore
Heart still shatters
Heart still shatters to ignore
Heart still shatters
Heart still shatters to ignore
poem by Rich Downes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Sower
Sitting in a porchway cool,
Fades the ruddy sunlight fast,
Twilight hastens on to rule--
Working hours are wellnigh past
Shadows shoot across the lands;
But one sower lingers still,
Old, in rags, he patient stands,--
Looking on, I feel a thrill.
Black and high his silhouette
Dominates the furrows deep!
Now to sow the task is set,
Soon shall come a time to reap.
Marches he along the plain,
To and fro, and scatters wide
From his hands the precious grain;
Moody, I, to see him stride.
Darkness deepens. Gone the light.
Now his gestures to mine eyes
Are august; and strange--his height
Seems to touch the starry skies.
poem by Victor Hugo
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Untitled Manifestations
The mirror that you look shatters when the words that you breathed are conveyed.
The mirror that you look shatters to millions when your eyes are set to the one thing that you cant get.
The mirror that you look shatters to millions when your heart turned black to the things that you assumed incompatible.
The mirror that you look fucking obviously shatters to gazillions when you try to smile beautifully where in reality you are actually tarnished and tainted and with so much more indescribable thoughts on your face from the things that reflected you.
poem by NurWilmy Francis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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