Ruined
Soft and spoiled
apples cling to shifting limb,
foregoing taut skin
for molten brown,
when night winds
carry them down
to invest
with teardropp seeds
the unsuspecting
grassy ground.
poem by Steven Federle
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Unripe Apples Fall
Unripe apples fall
and lie wasting on the ground,
spots spreading into brown,
circles, decaying, waiting
for sun and time to gently take
seminal seeds into the warm earth.
Small birds fall
down low
from their high, swaying tree,
to where patient
fallen apples
melt and glow.
Two looming hawks rise
waiting for the time to be right,
to turn their dark wings
and with swift silent stroke
give feathered death
to these surprised souls,
casting them like seeds
into the dark soil.
poem by Steven Federle
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Brown Skin
Brown skin, you know I love your brown skin
I cant tell where yours begins, I cant tell where mine ends
Brown skin, up against my brown skin
Need some every now and thenoh hey
Where are your people from? maybe mississippi or an island
Apparently your skin has been kissed by the sun
You make me want a hersheys kiss, your licorice
Every time I see your lips, it makes me think of honey-coated chocolate
Your kisses are worth more than gold to me
Ill be your almond joy, youll be my sugar daddy
Brown skin, you know I love your brown skin
I cant tell where yours begins, I cant tell where mine ends
Brown skin, up against my brown skin
Need some every now and thenoh hey
Every time you come around, something magnetic pulls me and I cant get out
Disoriented, I cant tell my up from down
All I know is that I wanna lay you down
Every time I let you in, abracadabra magic happens as we swim
Higher and higher finally we reach heaven
Come back to earth and then we do it all again
Yeah..
Brown skin, you know I love your brown skin
I cant tell where yours begins, I cant tell where mine ends
Brown skin, up against my brown skin
Need some every now and thenoh hey
Skin so brown, lips so round
Baby how can I be down?
Beautiful mahogany, you make me feel like a queen
Tell me whats that thing you do that makes me wanna get next to you, yeah
Brown skin, you know I love your brown skin
I cant tell where yours begins, I cant tell where mine ends
Brown skin, up against my brown skin
Need some every now and thenoh hey
Brown skin, you know I love your brown skin
I cant tell where yours begins, I cant tell where mine ends
Brown skin, up against my brown skin
Need some every now and thenoh hey
song performed by by India Arie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Changing Seasons.
On Thanksgiving day it shone brightly
And the following day it disappeared;
Lately, the mornings had become cooler and so had the nights;
The squirrels seemed to get busier and hurried,
Now l think l understand:
For the sun shines no more on the island!
Yet l see it still in the yellow and brown leaves
Of the maple trees that are strewn on the ground.
Soft winds mourn and the poor robin grieves.
In a battle they will sure lose sooner than later,
Shades of red leaves cling tightly to the stems;
One by one they let go and to the ground they clutter.
The light rains are a wonder;
Such sweet music all day and into the night!
In my dreams, as the season changes,
When my mind is relieved of the body asleep,
How so joyously l dance to mbira and marimba music!
And for each new day l am grateful;
Grateful for the gift of life;
Grateful for my family and friends the world over...
poem by Tafadzwa Matamba
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
On Their Soft Brown Skin
It seems real that my joy is drunken:
My heart burns like peeling glass, the dogs run underneath
The overpasses and after class:
The cars motors purr, stamped by housewives, swaying in
The caesuras of their dreams,
Shopping, bearing the negligee that is hardly even there,
Like the spit of rainbows on her brown skin,
As her children come back home from school again;
And I wonder how her soft brown kisses feel on their
Soft brown skin.
poem by Bret R. Crabrooke
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
When September Arrives, Again
September arrives and Autumn begins.
The Summer then bows to Fall.
I use to think,
The leaves would cling on until Spring...
In New England.
September arrives,
And the sky loses brightness.
Winds start to whip...
Leaves off of trees.
I use to wonder,
Why I heard thundering...
As it rained to bring a change to things.
September seems erratic and dramatic.
Shifting as it does...
To prepare all for the Winter.
Children return to school,
As cool winds descend.
September has come back,
Again...
So quickly.
September arrives,
And Autumn begins.
The Summer then bows to Fall.
I use to think,
The leaves would cling on until Spring...
In New England.
I use to think,
The leaves would cling on until Spring...
When September arrived.
And Autumn began,
With winds again.
I use to think,
The leaves would cling on until Spring...
As Autumn began,
With winds again to begin.
When September arrived.
When September...
Arrived!
When September,
Arrives...
Again.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
On Promising Fruitfulness of a Tree
A comely sight indeed it is to see
A world of blossoms on an apple-tree:
Yet far more comely would this tree appear,
If all its dainty blooms young apples were.
But how much more might one upon it see,
If all would hang there till they ripe should be.
But most of all in beauty 'twould abound,
If then none worm-eaten should there be found.
But we, alas! do commonly behold
Blooms fall apace, if mornings be but cold.
They too, which hang till they young apples are,
By blasting winds and vermin take despair,
Store that do hang, while almost ripe, we see
By blust'ring winds are shaken from the tree,
So that of many, only some there be,
That grow till they come to maturity.
Comparison.
This tree a perfect emblem is of those
Which God doth plant, which in his garden grows,
Its blasted blooms are motions unto good,
Which chill affections do nip in the bud.
Those little apples which yet blasted are,
Show some good purposes, no good fruits bear.
Those spoiled by vermin are to let us see,
How good attempts by bad thoughts ruin'd be.
Those which the wind blows down, while they are green,
Show good works have by trials spoiled been.
Those that abide, while ripe upon the tree,
Show, in a good man, some ripe fruit will be.
Behold then how abortive some fruits are,
Which at the first most promising appear.
The frost, the wind, the worm, with time doth show,
There flows, from much appearance, works but few.
poem by John Bunyan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Rural Sounds
mooing cows
barking dogs
flowing river
grassy plains
hushing winds
tall mountains
foggy hillsides
rising cliffs
a little brown boy
harvesting water apples
a little girl lifting her skirt
to catch them
father plowing a rain fed field
elder sister washing dirty clothes in the river
brother catching fish for breakfast
mother cooking rice
smoke rising from the chimney
reaching for the gods residing in the skies
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Winds Of Change
i throw my sigh
and then it came back as
part of the
the winds of change
with some brown leaves
and wings of birds
and butterflies
the winds of change
has come
with the rays of the sun
with the songs of the day
with the hair of my woman
the winds of change
has come
with the yellow sunflower
with the humming bees
and soft rains
and rainbow
the winds of change has
finally come
take me to the magic
of this moment
my winds of change
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Winds bend the brown green grass of fall
Winds bend the brown green grass of fall
Whether in current age or decades past
Landscape gazers catch creatures storing seeds
Scattering yellow and white capped weeds
Preparing for winter their pattern unhindered
Winds bend the brown green grass of fall
Constant marker as mankind races
Ploughs terrain staking claim
Highways vanquish sod and plain
Yet tuffs of the brown green grass remain
Winds bend the brown green grass of fall
Off roadways geese settle and call
Despite cluttered asphalt the landscape recalls
Natures evolving, preparing and readying
For ice glistening cold when life sleeps through all
poem by Stephanie Eve Kane Arado
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
We Carry On
He hasn't seen a drop of rain for months it seems
Rollin river is nothing; but a tricklin' stream
The crops are dyin' in the harsh sun light
The dust on his tongue is dry
The fatted calf is down to skin and bones
We carry on
Alone in the city and she's only seventeen
The boy left her black and blue on the streets so mean
Just twelve weeks along and she's got a life inside
Said shes never ever felt so alone
She walks in the shelter, they say welcome home
And we carry on
When our lives come undone...we carry on
Cause there's promise in the morning sun...we carry on
As the dark surrenders to the dawn
We were born to overcome
We carry on
Beyond the picket fences and the oil wells
The happy endings and the fairy tales
Is the reality of shattered lives and broken dreams
We carry on
Carry on
It's the family that grieves for a lost loved one
It's the soldier who won't leave till the job is done
It's the addict trying to turn his life around
It's pickin' yourself up off the ground when you've been knocked down
We carry on
When our lives come undone...we carry on
Cause there's promise in the morning sun...we carry on
As the dark surrenders to the dawn
We were born to overcome
We carry on
When our lives come undone...we carry on
Cause there's promise in the morning sun...we carry on
As the dark surrenders to the dawn
We were born to overcome
We carry on
Carry on
We carry on
He stands in the field, cooled by the winds of change
She smiles as her baby moves and it starts to rain
song performed by by Tim McGraw
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Skin
Skin discloses unrealized dreams:
people moved with desires,
thinking about children they never had,
the books they never wrote,
the world they hoped to change.
Skin tells secrets:
it cracks like desert ground;
it uncovers the trails of life,
telling how long you have been here.
White skin,
black skin,
brown skin...
speak loud.
And when it is covered,
it itches.
poem by Buxton Shippy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
In Our Breasts
Taut flesh of toxic seductress
comes out of the skin,
rolls in the dream.
A century buries the neck of God
and creates the words
of unbroken greed for useless faith.
A path stuns the sharp thorns.
Nothing would stop the seeker,
he has to annihilate the rival.
Somebody takes an aim
at the dancing egos
and brings down the marvel.
The bitter feud continues, between
stars and moon.
The molten lava moves like a snake.
poem by Satish Verma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Soft Smile
Where are you now soft smile?
You left me all the while
Wandering through a world of hardness and dark
Nowhere for my heart to park
Wherefore art thou soft smile?
Soft smile what light through yonder window breaks?
'Tis the sun and 'soft smile' you are my moon.
I dream endless hours of another moment with you
Every little moment has meaning
Why must I fall for you again n again?
You, who hath no heart but carry a shield
Soft smile you buried your heart but start
Start a new one with me will you?
Soft smile, stay with me a while
Allow me to beguile
Allow me to teach you about tease and denial
I miss you soft smile
I think about you every day
We both know i have spoiled you
We both know how i feel for you
I will go on alone
I will piss and moan
Who is 'soft smile'?
She knows exactly who she is
Because she wanders through her day
Carrying a bag of coins
But more importantly carrying my heart symbolically
Soft Smile I miss you every single day.
Beau Golden
poem by Beau Golden
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Forgotten Hills
Again I was giving chase
to a mirage.
Wiping off the transient thoughts
oozing from every orifice,
I will sell my dreams today.
Limb by limb,
the naked and brute will buy
the bonanza.
For a lost scent
I wandered from moon to moon
flitting past the sky of doves,
and the lonely winds
of crowded griefs.
The trampled earth
will not soak the joy of burning sun.
The tree and the flowers,
and the seeds falling in a heap
went unnoticed.
Now I will go in the forgotten hills
through mist and rains.
Give me some more pain,
it makes me move faster.
poem by Satish Verma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
May-December Kisses
She is a flower given
in summer time,
full of ocean-ness;
it's vastness swims
in her eyes.
She moves soft winds before her;
floating lightly;
shiny new
with a young soul
touched only by sentiments
innocent;
all experience her delight.
She has never known Mean Love,
only Love Requited.
Joy seldom comes to the Stapled Heart
and hers has never been.
I am older than she;
I am mangled innocence;
yet still I crave what I see-
her soft putty etherealness;
her purity.
I am the Winter Bulb
underground;
she, summer sun
warming ocean waters.
I need to know
is her heart,
and my dark bulb
together
yet fertile?
What irony
meeting brings
in words wandering
cross pages
when she says;
'I love you.'
My Winter and her Spring
were clutched in her Hearts First
meandering
into Love's Realm.
When individuals
invest
their best souls
and their best
summer flailings
we must perforce
measure the fit.
She is the rare soul not potted yet
not yet a bulb a'growing
yet before me now
professing
to love my old soul
covered by
winter ground
frozen.
I ponder and say to her:
'whisper me
just one word,
your soul's summer smells
inhaled,
your bouquet refreshing
my dusty soil;
my winter eyes greying.
I am mighty stirred
by youthful seeds
yours;
which arrive with summer's souling-
fitful winds blowing
innocence
which coaxes old flowers
to new blooms.
But I am, '
I said
'I am
too old for you
but not for Summer's kiss
and planted her cheek
with my Winter kiss
and set her free
to sail
Summer Winds
to find her own
true,
younger Prince
closer to her own age.
And I died
surely that day
having forfeited life's Last Love Note
for Youths Future Bliss.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Spring Comes Hither
Spring comes hither
Buds the rose . . .
Roses wither
Sweet spring goes . . .
O ja là
O ja là . . .
Would she carry me.
Summer soars
Wide-wing'd day . . .
White light pours
Flies away . . .
O ja là
O ja là . . .
Would he carry me.
Soft winds blow
Westward borne . . .
Onward go
Towards the morn
O ja là
O ja là . . .
Would they carry me.
Sweet birds sing
O'er the graves
Then take wing
O'er the waves
O ja là
O ja là . . .
Would they carry me.
poem by George Eliot
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
Vote! | Copy!
Waterfall
Chimes sing Sunday morn
Today's the day she's sworn
To steal what she never could own
And race from this hole she calls home
Now you're at the wheel
Tell me how how does it feel
So good to have equalised
To lift up the lids of your eyes
As the miles they disappear
See land begin to clear
Free from the filth and the scum
This American satellite's won
She'll carry on through it all
She's a waterfall
She'll carry on through it all
She's a waterfall
See the steeple pine
The hills as old as time
Soon to be put to the test
To be whipped by the winds of the west
Stands on shifting sands
The scales held in her hands
The wind it just whips her and wails
And fills up her brigantine sails
She'll carry on through it all
She's a waterfall
She'll carry on through it all
She's a waterfall
song performed by by The Stone Roses from The Stone Roses
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
At Night Chinamen Jump
At night Chinamen jump
on Asia with a thump
while in our willful way
we, in secret, play
affectionate games and bruise
our knees like China's shoes.
The birds push apples through
grass the moon turns blue,
these apples roll beneath
our buttocks like a heath
full of Chinese thrushes
flushed from China's bushes.
As we love at night
birds sing out of sight,
Chinese rhythms beat
through us in our heat,
the apples and the birds
move us like soft words,
we couple in the grace
of that mysterious race.
poem by Frank O'Hara
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Chinamen Jump
At night Chinamen jump
on Asia with a thump
while in our willful way
we, in secret, play
affectionate games and bruise
our knees like China's shoes.
The birds push apples through
grass the moon turns blue,
these apples roll beneath
our buttocks like a heath
full of Chinese thrushes
flushed from China's bushes.
As we love at night
birds sing out of sight,
Chinese rhythms beat
through us in our heat,
the apples and the birds
move us like soft words,
we couple in the grace
of that mysterious race.
poem by Frank O'Hara
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Old Flower
She is a flower given
in rainy hours
in her is ocean-ness
moving soft winds before her;
floating lightly
shiny new soul blooming
untouched by sentiments darkly
all experience her delight
having never known mean love
only love requited.
Joy seldom comes to the stapled heart
her's has never been.
I am older than she
aged older than my years
mangled innocence
unrequited
the winter bulb
underground
she is summer's sun
warming waters.
I ask her if
her heart,
and my dark bulb
can yet be fertile?
What irony
meeting brings
in words wandering
'cross pages
when individuals
invest
their souls
and their best
summer flailings.
So rare the soul not potted yet
not yet a bulb a'growing
yet wise enough
to love the flower
covered by
winter ground
frozen.
Whisper me
just one word
your soul's summer smells
inhaled
bouquet refreshing
my dusty soil
my winter eyes ungreying
stirred still
by youthful seeds
yours
which arrive with summer's souling
on summer winds
whose innocence
coax old flowers
mine
into fitful starts
re-blooming
in instant's remembering
but destined in the next
to extinguish
happily.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!