The Ground of Life
I am alone
in my high-back chair, listening,
attending to every sound, the breeze
through fluid curtains
strokes my thinning hair,
whispers poems
into eager ears
of the soft moaning of the dove
who warms her thin eggs
alone in that small place
above our front-porch,
telling me that love
is certain.
poem by Steven Federle
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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There Were Whispers
there were whispers
coming at dawn
near my ears
it is colder
when i am away from home
and the whispers
are a little bit louder
like some birds
wanting to enter
inside my heart
and make
their nests there
the room is dark
and there is no chance
that i will ever sleep
there is this voice
always telling me
home, i will be home
and tonight is the longest
dark night i shall ever have
it is the sound
of the plane, the clutters
of back packs
it is the sound of
the taxi
going to an airport
it is the view of
clouds up there
and some landscapes
some sea caps
and tiny boats
and then the
touchdown
some hands are
waving
it is 7: 00 a.m.
and the smell of home
is as sweet
as the odor of
an old shirt still hanging
on a chair
beside my door
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Thirty-the promise of a decade of loneliness, a thinning list of single men to know, a thinning brief-case of enthusiasm, thinning hair.
quote by F. Scott Fitzgerald
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Waiting For You (Sestina)
The tangled wood reminds me of your hair -
dark like the night and falling in whispers.
Kneeling underneath the sheltering pines,
I sip silence and stroke the memories.
You have long been gone, and I miss your hands,
slipping through the long sleeves of languid love.
Time is a leaf on the branch of our love,
curled in the corners of your chestnut hair
and falling like sand through hourglass hands.
Wind strokes my back and quietly whispers.
Stars float down a dark sky of memories,
their bright pulse like beacons above the pines.
Thus hangs the moon, suspended among pines,
promising brighter days showered with love;
but for now, I live in the memories.
I braid a blue blossom into my hair,
its fragrance wafting like weary whispers,
spider-spun silk in the palm of my hands.
I remember how you captured my hands,
held them within the shadow of the pines,
and kissed them soft as butterfly whispers.
It was then that I knew I was in love,
when you gently stroked the length of my hair,
now curled within the moonlight memories.
Moonlight makes magic of the memories,
within the palms of her shimmering hands,
and she sprinkles starlight throughout my hair.
Initials are carved in one of the pines
within a whimsical heart made with love
and sanctified with undying whispers.
The past unfolds in wandering whispers,
ushered through the gate of my memories.
I write a letter of undying love,
hold it like seeds in the palm of my hands,
and plant it with a kiss beneath the pines
as the wind looses a wisp of my hair.
The pale wings of my love move like whispers,
tangling in your hair like memories
captured within your hands beneath the pines.
poem by Linda Marie Van Tassell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cheap Thrill
My feet are pointing high in the air,
I'm blinded by a veil of hair.
My body is shaking, a teardropp appears...
Is it too late to let me out of here!
I sneak a peek at you..do you find this amusing?
My skirt 'round my ears, my neighbours assuming....
That my moaning and screaming is born from fun,
Not knowing my instincts are telling me 'RUN! '
But wait..there's a thrill.....I feel so alive
My body is speeding as though to survive!
Laughter has replaced the feeling of dread.
Smiles have pushed my ears high on my head: -D
By the time I realise, I like it more than I'm s'pose ta
It's time to vacate from my first rollercoaster.
LET'S GO AGAIN! ! ! : -)
© 2012
poem by Ruby Honeytip
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In Faith
When the soft sweet wind o' the south went by,
I dwelt in the light of a dark brown eye;
And out where the robin sang his song,
We lived and loved, while the days were long.
In the sweet, sweet eves, when the moon swung high,
We wandered under the starry sky;
Or sat in the porch, and the moon looked through
The latticed wall where the roses grew.
My lips, that hd no lover's kiss,
You taught the art, till they trilled in bliss;
And the moon, and the stars, and the roses knew
That the heart you won was pure and true.
But true hearts weary men, maybe,
For you grew weary of love, and me.
Over the porch the dead vines hang,
And a mourning dove sobs where the robin sang.
In a warmer clime does another sigh
Under the light of your dark brown eye?
Did you follow the soft sweet wing o' the south,
And are you kissing a redder mouth?
Lips may be redder, and eyes more bright;
The face may be fairer you see to-night;
But never, love, while the stars shall shine,
Will you find a heart that is truer than mine.
Sometime, perhaps, when south winds blow,
You will think of a love you used to know;
Sometime, perhaps, when a robin sings,
Your heart will go back to olden things.
Sometime you will weary of this world's arts,
Of deceit and change and hollow hearts,
And, wearying, sigh for the 'used to be, '
And your feet will turn to the porch, and me.
I shall watch for you here when days grow long;
I shall list for your step through the robin's song;
I shall sit in the porch where the moon looks through,
And a vacant chair will wait - for you.
You may stray, and forget, and rove afar,
But my changeless love, like the polar star,
Will draw you at length o'er land and sea -
And I know you will yet come back to me.
The years may come, and the years may go,
But sometime again, when south winds blow,
When roses bloom, and the moon swings high,
I shall live in he light of your dark brown eye.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Warm Summer Breeze
The trees whisper in the breeze
The forest peaceful, quiet, and serene.
The warm breeze like a soft caress,
Momentarily eliminating all stress.
Without delay it carries on
Leaving the place in silence when it's gone.
A summer day, a summer breeze,
Softly whispered through the trees.
The summer breeze, softly it comes,
Quickly it leaves,
Causing soft whispers in the trees.
It came and soon left, a warm summer breeze.
poem by Theo Townend
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Shes Still There
(mark d. sanders/tim johnson)
Darlin heres a photograph of my old high school class
No I aint been back in quite a while
See there thats emma lou, the one I gave my heart to
But theres a story you cant see behind her smile
It was gonna last forever, we were gonna see the world
So I guess youre curious just what became of her, well
Shes still there in oklahoma
Shes still seventeen
Shes livin with her mama
Workin at the dairy queen
And shes still standin on the front porch
With a red ribbon in her hair
The rest of us have scattered everywhere
But shes still there
Everett went to omaha, he majored in business law
Jills in arkansas with husband number two
Thats her best friend jolene, she joined up with the marines
I hear billy greens on a beach in malibu
Yes and emma would be happy if she could only see us now
cause were livin out the lives that she only dreamed about
Shes still there in oklahoma
Shes still seventeen
Shes livin with her mama
Workin at the dairy queen
And shes still standin on the front porch
With a red ribbon in her hair
The rest of us have scattered everywhere
But shes still there
Lord, I know Ill never see her
With silver in her hair
I know shes really gone
But in my heart Id swear
Shes still there in oklahoma
Shes still seventeen
Shes livin with her mama
Workin at the dairy queen
And shes still standin on the front porch
With a red ribbon in her hair
The rest of us have scattered everywhere
But shes still there
Emmas still there
song performed by by Trace Adkins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shes Still There
(mark d. sanders/tim johnson)
Darlin heres a photograph of my old high school class
No I aint been back in quite a while
See there thats emma lou, the one I gave my heart to
But theres a story you cant see behind her smile
It was gonna last forever, we were gonna see the world
So I guess youre curious just what became of her, well
Shes still there in oklahoma
Shes still seventeen
Shes livin with her mama
Workin at the dairy queen
And shes still standin on the front porch
With a red ribbon in her hair
The rest of us have scattered everywhere
But shes still there
Everett went to omaha, he majored in business law
Jills in arkansas with husband number two
Thats her best friend jolene, she joined up with the marines
I hear billy greens on a beach in malibu
Yes and emma would be happy if she could only see us now
cause were livin out the lives that she only dreamed about
Shes still there in oklahoma
Shes still seventeen
Shes livin with her mama
Workin at the dairy queen
And shes still standin on the front porch
With a red ribbon in her hair
The rest of us have scattered everywhere
But shes still there
Lord, I know Ill never see her
With silver in her hair
I know shes really gone
But in my heart Id swear
Shes still there in oklahoma
Shes still seventeen
Shes livin with her mama
Workin at the dairy queen
And shes still standin on the front porch
With a red ribbon in her hair
The rest of us have scattered everywhere
But shes still there
Emmas still there
song performed by by Trace Adkins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poems Are The Sparrows
Poems are the sparrows,
Swing they branch to branch,
In the green tree of poetry,
They chirp and pick the grain,
Of diction, thoughts, metaphors,
And bring in their beaks,
The straws of meters,
And thorns of realities.
Poems are the Sparrows,
Build their nests place to place,
In the valleys of poetic minds,
To lay and hatch eggs of wisdom,
Awake they early in the morn,
To sing hymn, when gently
Breeze begins to blow, to and fro.
The sparrows chirp in my heart,
And when hiding behind the tassels,
Extend I my hand to them to catch,
They fly away; and when I scatter
The grain, they cluster around me,
To sing the chorus of love and peace,
My restless heart then pours
Them on pages of the book,
And the starving ears become,
Impatient to listen to the honeyed,
Lines of love.
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Space Beautiful
I sleep in a beautiful structure
After years of apartment life
My child shies from all flying insects
My wife says there's mice and there's bees
But the sun pokes its face through the skylight
And the wind plays among the tall trees.
When dawn comes to wake the horizon
The brown deer come closer to graze
There's basketball in the back garden
And soccerball in the front drive
So much green, so intense and inviting -
It reminds you of being alive.
There's a place to set up the computer
And a porch to write poems alone
With a chair for the weary commuter
To stretch out his limbs and to moan
And even though it's only rented
It's a space beautiful to the senses -
I could almost think of it as home.
poem by Frank Bana
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Front Porch Looking In
Oh yeah
Yeah oh yeah
The only ground I ever owned was sticking to my shoes
Now I look at my front porch and this panoramic view
I can sit and watch the fields fill up
With rays of glowing sun
Or watch the moon lay on the fences
Like that's where it was hung
My blessings are in front of me
It's not about the land
I'll never beat the view
From my front porch looking in
There's a carrot top who can barely walk
With a sippy cup of milk
A little blue eyed blonde with shoes on wrong
'Cause she likes to dress herself
And the most beautiful girl holding both of them
And the view I love the most
Is my front porch looking in, yeah
I've traveled here and everywhere
Following my job
I've seen the paintings from the air
Brushed by the hand of God
The mountains and the canyons reach from sea to shining sea
But I can't wait to get back home
To the one he made for me
It's anywhere I'll ever go and everywhere I've been
Nothing takes my breath away
Like my front porch looking in
There's a carrot top who can barely walk
With a sippy cup of milk
A little blue eyed blonde with shoes on wrong
'Cause she likes to dress herself
And the most beautiful girl holding both of them
Yeah the view I love the most
Is my front porch looking in
I see what beautiful is about
When I'm looking in
Not when I'm looking out
There's a carrot top who can barely walk
With a sippy cup of milk
A little blue eyed blonde with shoes on wrong
'Cause she likes to dress herself
And the most beautiful girl holding both of them
Yeah the view I love the most
Oh, the view I love the most
Is my front porch looking in
Yeah
Oh, there's a carrot top who can barely walk
(From my front porch looking in)
A little blue eyed blonde with shoes on wrong, yeah
And the most beautiful girl
(Beautiful girl
From my front porch looking in)
Holding both of them
Oh, yeah
song performed by by Lonestar
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There Are a Lot of People in the World Called Jack
There’s an old man singing
Out on his front porch
Strumming his guitar
Like it’s 1954.
It may have been a while
But he remembers every chord
And although it doesn’t look like much
It’s all he could afford.
Yes, the paint is peeling
And the strings are wearing thin
And it’s still sporting the logo
Of the band he once was in
But every cent he ever earned
Bought him that guitar
He should have known that green ambition
Never gets you far.
His fingers pace the tired strings.
Performing through the days
Mister-Money-Buys-You-Talent
So-I’m-Al ways-Going-To-Pay.
Stupid to the audience
Who stand around and stare
He closes his eyes and flutters back
Forgets his silver hair.
When he carried solos
With the music in his arms
Failure was not a choice
Nothing could do him harm.
As the final bar echoes
A chord dies in his hands
He falls down hard onto his porch,
And ceases the painful sound.
His weary face stares from his hands
The audience just smile,
Walk from the man and his guitar
Always in denial.
poem by Victoria Annette Bailey
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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We've Been This Distant
Did we not say goodnight
When the clock tick tocked
And you could not stop
Watching it pass us in silence?
And you torcher me
With whispers licked upon
My listening ears...
When I'm not near you!
Did we not say goodnight
When the clock tick tocked
And you could not stop
Watching it pass us in silence?
And you torcher me
With whispers licked upon
My listening ears...
When I'm not near you!
You squeeze my hand.
I see the tears begin to roll.
You've been touched by another man?
I see that!
That does not have to be told!
'Yes...
I confess!
And I want you to do the best
To understand,
When I needed love from you...
There was nothing else to do
And no one else to give it to,
Since yours was not available...
And,
That part of my love for you was! '
Excuse me?
You want WHAT from me?
I can't believe we've been this distant!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Every Breath That I Take...
My heart doth make
A beat for the rhythm of my love,
Carried by my wings of a dove
Flying round you, loving you, calling
You are still, a signal to my fluttering wings
That descends gentle, close onto your body
High in the sky of the trees our interwoven sticks
Of love await your nest eggs...I fly away.
As the moon says goodbye sunshine peeks at your eyes
Sparkling brightly as you warm to your clutch of eggs,
I call to you for we must fly to make an appearance
By the church bells the scene is laid,
For a wedding spell.
A young couple wed embrace and kiss
Something we never miss, to bless
From the love of a dove.
poem by Ken e Hall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Every Breath of a Dove
Every breath that I take
My heart doth make
A beat for the rhythm of love
Carried by the wings of a dove,
Flying round you, loving you, calling
You are still, a signal to my fluttering wings
That descends me gentle, close onto your body
High in the sky of the trees our interwoven sticks
Of love await your nest eggs...I fly away.
As the moon says goodbye sunshine peeks at your eyes
Sparkling brightly as you warm to your clutch of eggs,
I call to you for we must fly to make an appearance
By the church bell the scene is laid,
For a wedding spell.
A young couple wed embrace and kiss
Something we never miss,
For the love of a dove.
poem by Ken e Hall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Music Of The Night
Sitting in a rocking chair
on a porch in a summer eve.
A warm breeze drives
the garden fragrances through the air.
You close your eyes and relax
and listen to the music of the night,
to the creatures of the night time
calling through the stillness to be found.
The leaves rustling
pushed by the warming breeze,
the lonely hoot of a wise old owl
perched high somewhere,
the chirping of the crickets
in their mating call
and the almost silence
of a bat’s flapping wing.
Those are just a few of the sounds
you’ll hear as you relax back
and listen to the music of the night.
27 March 2008
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Doubts
When she sleeps, her soul, I know,
Goes a wanderer on the air,
Wings where I may never go,
Leaves her lying, still and fair,
Waiting, empty, laid aside,
Like a dress upon a chair. . . .
This I know, and yet I know
Doubts that will not be denied.
For if the soul be not in place,
What has laid trouble in her face?
And, sits there nothing ware and wise
Behind the curtains of her eyes,
What is it, in the self's eclipse,
Shadows, soft and passingly,
About the corners of her lips,
The smile that is essential she?
And if the spirit be not there,
Why is fragrance in the hair?
poem by Rupert Brooke (1913)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Marriage
Marriage for Esme began as a wide open room
with windows that let in the sunshine
and curtains so light and airy
they floated on the breeze.
Her husband's blue eyes would sparkle
with just a hint of mischief
and fun that they intrigued her,
made him special.
Then in the second year on her birthday
it seemed the room had grown dusty,
the curtains seemed dull,
the windows small.
And in the third year, without a doubt
the sun had gone down on her
and the room held a chill
like her aching heart.
By the fifth year, she'd aged,
her eyes had shadows, her skin had paled
and the room seemed small
with no windows at all.
She had shriveled, was withdrawn,
she'd sit in the corner of the room humming,
rocking back and forth, back and forth,
back and forth........
poem by Ruth Walters
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Oceanside
She never wanted to talk
She never wanted to argue
But thats the way it goes
When theres nobody listening
Eyes straight on the front line
Knee deep in the river flow
Keep your chin up, keep your back straight
Rescues on the way
Always the keeper of secrets
Always the source of confusion
But thats the way it goes
When theres nobody listening
Eyes straight on the front line
Knee deep in the river flow
Keep your chin up, keep your back straight
Rescues on the way
Nobody said this was going to be easy
But Ill tell you what Im gonna do
Can I take you to an oceanside
Can I take you to an oceanside
For a few hundred years
Im telling you thats all I ever heard about it
Can I take you to an oceanside
Never a word of intention
Never a hope of reunion
But thats the way it goes
When theres nobody listening
Eyes straight on the high wire
Knee deep in the river flow
Keep your chin up, keep your back straight
Rescues on the way
Nobody said this was going to be easy
But Ill tell you what Im gonna do
song performed by by Verve Pipe
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If I had [De-aş avea]
If I had a pretty flower
Fresh and sweet and full of power
Like all those that bloom in May,
Charming daughters of the day,
Growing on a grassy field
Where the grass is moved by wind,
And where people hear above
Gentle whispers full of love;
If I had a little flower
Nice and younger than the hour,
Dressed like lilies at their best
And white like the snowy breast,
Sometimes with a shade of pink,
Sometimes purple like a drink,
Like a song one hears above
Soft like whispers full of love;
If I had a dove as white
As a girl's face shining bright,
A meek girl, a lovely thing,
Like a sunny day of spring,
I would sing her all day long
The traditional folk song
And the notes will rise above
Soft like whispers full of love.
poem by Mihai Eminescu, translated by Octavian Cocoş
Submitted by anonym
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