On A Listless Noon
on a listless noon!
&
the noon sits heavily upon the earth-
the sullen wind grumbles through the tired leaves-
the trees droop down their gloomy branches-
the roadside noises punch my aching head;
the clouds are stickily stagnant
as the moss -spread on a soulless lake-
the time fades lazily
as the curling smoke thread from the incense stick-
one by one the black clouds devour the afternoon sun
and the sun wriggles out of their throats sluggishly-
the nature is listless and sober
as my dreams of life!
&
chandra kalaadhar.s.
poem by Sundaram Chandrakalaadhar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mind You, My Friends And All...!
mind you, my friends and all..!
&
mind you,
my friends and well-wishers-
i am absolutely not arrogant
when i politely say-
all my thoughts,
indeed everyone of them,
walk on the ramp of my mind
in graceful style
clothed in simplicity
radiating the confidence of truth-
i never dress them up
i sweat not for words
in the jungle of dictionaries-
everything falls in place
as the dew pearls on a wintry night
settling over the palm
of the meditating leaves-
yes i do dance on the keyboard
with my forefinger with effortless ease-
i do reemphasize
'this is not out of my haughtiness;
this is really and trully
what i experience in these golden days
of my listless life so far
on my lonesome journey.'
yes, i enjoy these moments
in childlike revelry amidst the clouds!
-s.chandra kalaadhar
poem by Sundaram Chandrakalaadhar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Heat-Wave
Day after day, week after burning week,
A ruthless sun has sucked the forest dry.
Morn after anxious morn men's glances seek
The hills, hard-etched against a harder sky.
Gay blossoms droop and die.
Menace is here, as day draws to its peak,
And, 'mid the listless gums along the creek,
Hot little breezes sigh.
To-day the threat took shape; the birds were dumb.
Once more, as sullen, savage morning broke,
The silence told that trembling fear had come,
To bird and beast and all the forest folk.
One little wisp of smoke
Far in the south behind the listless gum
Grew to a purple pall. Like some far drum,
A distant muttering broke.
Red noon beheld red death come shouting o'er
These once green slopes-a leaping, living thing.
Touched by its breath, tree after tall tree wore
A fiery crown, as tho' to mock a king -
A ghastly blossoming
Of sudden flame that died and was no more.
And, where a proud old giant towered of yore,
Stood now a blackened thing.
Fierce raved the conquering flame, as demons rave,
Earth shook to thunders of the falling slain.
Brambles and bushes, once so gay and brave,
Shrank back, and writhed, and shrieked and shrieked again
Like sentient things in pain.
Gone from the forest all that kind spring gave…
And now, at laggard last, too late to save,
Comes soft, ironic rain.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Lasso The Moon
She carries the water from the well in the morning
While the sand burns her feet the sun only stares
And the loneliness lingers with slow grasping fingers
As the afternoon withers the flowers in her hair
Then night fills the sky as she sits on the hillside
And memories drift by like clouds past the stars
Recalling romances and all the bright chances
But none of them lasted. they passed through her heart
And she says -
Where is a man who can build a good fire
With a passion as wide as the sky at high noon
A man whose hand is strong as his longing
Where is the man who can lasso the moon
She falls asleep and her dreams are her blanket
And she shares with the moon the secret she knows
As the dawn leaves its tears to wash the dry valley
The tears of a woman can wash a mans soul
And she says -
Where is a man who can build a good fire
With a passion as wide as the sky at high noon
A man whose hand is strong as his longing
Where is the man who can lasso the moon
And she says -
Where is a man who can build a good fire
With a passion as wide as the sky at high noon
A man whose hand is strong as his longing
Where is the man who can lasso the moon
And I say -
I am a man who can build a good fire
And my passions as wide as the sky at high noon
Come take my hand, its as strong as your longing
Just say the word and Ill lasso the moon
song performed by by Level 42
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet: Grow Trees
The branches cut the wind fierce to a breeze;
The leaves break sunlight into chequered beams;
The shade of trees affords all travelers peace;
The wearied ones sleep ’neath the trees in dreams!
And birds too build their nests on branches high;
The squirrels eat their berries with great joy;
The trees make verdant all landscape near-by;
And attract rain in which children enjoy!
Trees make the earth greener and beautiful,
Adding oxygen to the air we breathe;
Preserve its trees, man! Nature is grateful;
The leaves and flowers can make us a wreath.
Trees are so useful to mankind always;
’midst good trees, men have spent their earthly days!
7-14-2002
poem by John Celes
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Black ash
Up Into the sky the smoke blast,
And black ash covered white clouds,
Overseas and streams aghast,
With lashing dust and darken moods.
Slowly passing over earth and ocean,
Disturb the leaves in the noon day,
And halt the easy flights of locomotion,
Painting the ecliptic sky black and grey
Guide the shifting floating vapor,
In serene dominion without a compass,
Wind and time create the power,
And find the path over winding paradise.
Black ash spread in dept too dark to see,
Dissolving material in swaying motion,
Ignorant of pain erupting like infinity,
And flow over the entire beautiful heaven.
Black ash shedding tear and terror,
In the arms of a wicked volcano blast,
The world stood tripping with fear,
Hear the thunder and lightning flash.
New signs in blood, vapor and smoke,
A living force with cape and wings,
Breaking chains through space invoke,
Climate change burning things.
Travelers groan, in struggles and fits,
Dream of happy time passes the hour,
Bemused mankind left with many stitches,
To build a better memorial in the atmosphere.
poem by Gerry Legister
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Sonnet: The Wind
What shakes the trees so violently? ’Tis Wind;
What moves the clouds hither/ thither? ’Tis Wind;
What takes the tornado around? ’Tis Wind;
What brings the sandstorm on the earth? ’Tis Wind.
What makes the cool and gentle breeze? ’Tis Wind
What makes the boughs and leaves to dance? ’Tis Wind;
What makes the autumn leaves to fall? ’Tis Wind;
What makes the honey-bees to fly? ’Tis Wind.
What makes pollen reach in showers? ’Tis Wind;
What makes the dust to climb towers? ’Tis Wind;
What spreads the perfume of flowers? ’Tis Wind;
What makes the rain-clouds advance far? ’Tis Wind.
What makes the Wind to blow? ’Tis God;
What makes a Tempest stop? ’ Tis our Lord.
7-18-2001
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Clouds Of My Life
There moves the cloud
with the wind that blows
So bright and white
like the pages of my life…
I sit near the window
and watch those clouds
That shows me the way
my life is being shaped…
Never was I able to
see the clouds
Have the same shape
in every minute of my life…
Why does this happen
is what I think
But everyday is not the same
is what it says to me…
I see the winds
blow off the clouds
Which makes me think
when will my life be blown off? ...
It's hard to see
black clouds coming in between
Making my worst fears
strike into my mind…
It rains day and night
making me feel happy and sad
Happy to see the black clouds fading
but sad about losing the clouds…
Dreams of mine takes
shape in the clouds
Always showing me the face
of the person I like…
It always reminds me
my life is in world's hands
No matter how hard I try
can't change the fate of my life…
It's nice to see the clouds
every morning I wake up
This reminds me there is still a day
because I see the "Clouds of my Life"…
poem by Sowkoor Nischal Shetty
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Life Fades Away
Written by orbison/danzig
My time has come the clouds are calling.
December wind has came my way.
And now I feel the world falling.
All at once, its too late.
Life fades away.
The night is my day.
All thoughts slip away
And even though, I must leave you.
Remember I love you.
Ill always be in your memories.
I will always be with you when Im gone.
Hey, life fades away.
Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah,yeah.
Life fades away.
Im tired on tomorrow.lost for today.
I long to be at peace forever.
My dull peace
And even though, I will miss you.
I must leave you.
Hey, life fades away.
Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah,yeah, yeah.
Life fades away.
So please forgive me.and try not to cry.
I long to be at peace forever more.
Forever more.
Oh yeah, yeah , yeah ,yeah ,yeah.
Oh yeah, yeah ,yeah , yeah, yeah.
Life fades away.
Life fades away.
Life fades away.away.
One last thing to say
Life fades away.
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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These Are Ever My Favourites!
These Are Ever My Favourites!
The cool fluffy clouds that rush in
Out of nowhere to fill the skies
Just at the sight of the full milky moon
To passionately plant kisses on its cheeks
Are ever my favourites of nature!
All species of birds with numerous notes of calls
That unfurl their coloured wings
In enchanting styles of their own
And circling in brisk flights minding ever their tasks
Are ever my favourites of nature!
The great mountains towering into the skies,
That are the prides of the earth,
Sloping gracefully in their dreamy blue coats
And in the charm of the meditative silence
Are ever my favourites of nature!
Millions and millions of green trees
Though with thousands of wayward branches
Yet possessing an ineffable heavenly charm
Surpassing even that of a temple tower
Are ever my favourites of nature!
The ever flowing rivers with many a voice,
Many a flow and conversing in many a dialect
That adorn both sides of banks
With ornaments of green smiles
Are ever my favourites of nature!
All kinds of flowers and leaves
With innumerable shapes
And unparalled fragrances
Generously showering beauty
Are ever my favourites of nature!
From the friendly breeze
With its gentle touch as it whispers
To the biting chill winds of north
All families of winds in all of their moods
Are ever my favourites of nature!
All the tunes and beats
And melodies and monotony
Of the showering arrows of rain
From the dark complexioned warrior clouds
Are ever my favourites of nature!
Both father and mother
Who rain love reading our minds
And guide us judging our faculties
And shape us as responsible folks
Are ever my favourites of god!
My children at eight a.m. daily commotion
Waving their loving hands with verve
And cheering 'ta..ta, mom and dad! '
As they fly fast with bag load of books to school
Are ever my favourites of life!
-S.Chandra Kalaadhar
poem by Sundaram Chandrakalaadhar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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No reason to feel sad
I have no reason to feel sad and look gloomy
Even though the day is dark and cloudy
It may rain any time to bring some respite
The night may look an the absence of light
The nature has interlinked with our nature too
We too grow energetic and turn pale when go through
All seasons affect our thinking with climatic change
Our fate too with some hopes remain in balance and hang
Though the natural disasters create panic and fear
It brings havoc and turmoil for us to heavily bear
It may leave us in state of great shock with lots of tears
We have no where to go and tell someone to hear
It is good to be associated with climatic condition
It may inspire us to drive with powerful ignition
It is time for us to rise and match the event
It will be made memorable with resolute movement
Even though they are inseparable part
We adjust accordingly from the very start
We plan it in such way that it looks natural
There is no clash or apparently any quarrel
We may fear from nature but do not adopt exactly
Even though it may be in our disfavor heavily
Dark clouds do not inspire us to hold pessimistic views
At the same time we will not go mild with morning dews
As the sun opens its arm to spread over vast area
The land may claim it as its right and make strong plea
We do not leave it to heavenly bodies to decide
We may plan it forcefully to go over very wide
The weather has limited role to play
It may have time bound sway
Everybody may try to extract maximum
No one likes to share at the level of minimum
Even trees shed their difference to wear new out look
How pages look when they are compiled in nice book?
The trees may have new branches along with green leaves
This will definitely inspire and lead you to believe
Our heart can bear greenery all the time to come
As nature encourages non living organs to welcome
We human being empower to adapt certain new things
It will be liked by all and be appreciative of something
Even blind may notice change through ears
Same wind and change has taken place for years
It is human mind to feel and changes to make
Complete surrender to nature means nothing at stake
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Myself
As i lay here listless or lifeless
Well lifeless cause i'm not sure what listless means
Feelings of emptiness and sorrow
Excuse me are you listening do you have some life i can borrow
Trying to find wheres my place
Enough is enough can i remove this mask from my face
I want to be some one different now
I have tried this one far to long
Can i play another song
One that's words i can sing along
Now that life you said you would lend me
You said today cause you have plenty
Stand back and brace
For i am about to reveal wait there is no haste
So where is this life you said i could borrow
Don't make me wait it will be raining tomorrow
For i am lifeless you see
I want what you promised not your sympathy
Questions are running through your head
A voice cries i thought you were dead
So where is this life you promised me
Was it just words you said to me
Time has come to show my face
Will i be excepted by a race
A race that was lost when i masked my face
So maybe i am lifeless not listless
And maybe not only lifeless
But no i'm just myself
When the sun goes down late in the afternoon (anaphora poem)
When late in the afternoon the sun hangs just above the trees and hillocks,
I think that you must experience the colours of the clouds yourself
I think that it would be pretty in a landscape painting,
I think that this dusk brings a silence, that it’s lonely without you,
I think that you are late, are maybe still working, or have got some other plans
I think that the gathering clouds will catch you with rain,
I think that the doves tomorrow evening will also be in love and coo like this,
I think that the jasmine and lavender tomorrow evening will also fill the air.
I think I will dream of branches that hit from the wind on the roof,
I think that maybe tomorrow I will see you for the last time.
poem by Gert Strydom
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O What A Climate Today!
o what a climate today!
o where is the sun that squeezed dry my blood into sweat so long?
the day unusually rolls up and sets aside the sparkling quilt of the sun;
and the ashen clouds have spread their thin mats all over the skies
and the cheerful winds on joyful feet spread happiness everywhere
on top of all, as a crowning glory, there is a dreamy rain -
no, i cannot call this rain, or a misty fall, nor a soft drizzle-
it is of dreamy drops, here and there, distanced by long seconds,
and tossed far and wide by the sprinting and sporting wind,
sending shivers of thrill into the streams of blood
and giving birth to spontaneous expressions of ecstasy;
it is a rainless rain, raining joy and dance -
the light is cool and gentle and not hurting;
it is the winds that create the festival of joy
and spray laughter that bubbles up amidst the flowery trees-
o what is the language of the flowers and leaves?
are they one and the same or different?
o how i wish to speak their noiseless language!
today i could venture out into the open even at 4 p.m.
with no risk of burning my soles and skin;
today my dance is not on flames but on flowers-
the sky has bid adieu to the sweating sun of june;
at last i find the sun of the moon or the moon of the sun
high above on the western skies, harmless and half-sleepy;
the nature today has painted everything in mild colours,
drawing hearts out into the open to the bliss of the seasons!
where else in the universe except on this lovely earth
could i get this solemn bliss from the elements of nature?
i will be born again and again on this beautiful earth.
--s.chandra kalaadhar [18.06.2012/ monday /aani 4/nandhana /4 p.m.
poem by Sundaram Chandrakalaadhar
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Far Within Us #7
Toothed eyes fly
Over still waters
Around us purple lips
Flutter from branches
Screams hit the blue
And fall onto pillows
Our homes hide
Behind narrow backs
Hands clutch at
Flimsy clouds
Our veins roll turbid
Bed and tables
Of shattered bones
Noon has fallen into our hands
And turned all gloomy
An open grave on the face of the earth
On your face on my face
Trans. by Anne Pennington
Anonymous submission.
poem by Vasko Popa
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What Weather
The leaves are blowing away
Up, up, and away they go.
Swish, swoosh, they go.
Like a dancing ballerina
Up, up and away they go
Way up , in the sky.
The trees standing there,
Their branches all bare.
The wind whistling throughout empty branches,
The trees look scary, swish, swoosh,
The wind is getting louder,
Throughout the trees it howls
The trees are blowing
From side to side
Like someone dancing swiftly,
The clouds in the sky are moving quietly
Is the weather ever going to change,
What weather it is today
poem by Angela Fletcher
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Things With Wings
As fragile as our heartbeat-so too are the Sparrows
Bathed softly by the Springtide breeze
Spectators of the bucholic of Mother Nature
Perched upon stenciled branches of old oak trees;
Cocooned into their very own kingdom
Where the honeysuckle grows wild and free
Their melodious song breaks open the silence
As the day carries along sweet destiny;
The catapillar leaves its shelter
It's metamorphosis very soon
Minutes tick off in sweet surrender
As morning unties it's way to noon;
Butterflies appear as if by magic
An experience unraveling into a greater thread
Velvety-silken wings-of deep orange and black
Voila, the Monarch's emerge, raising their sleepy heads!
poem by Theodora Onken
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The Ghosts' High Noon
When the night wind howls in the chimney cowls, and the bat in the
moonlight flies,
And inky clouds, like funeral shrouds, sail over the midnight skies -
When the footpads quail at the night-bird's wail, and black dogs
bay the moon,
Then is the spectres' holiday - then is the ghosts' high noon!
As the sob of the breeze sweeps over the trees, and the mists lie
low on the fen,
From grey tombstones are gathered the bones that once were women
and men,
And away they go, with a mop and a mow, to the revel that ends too
soon,
For cockcrow limits our holiday - the dead of the night's high
noon!
And then each ghost with his ladye-toast to their churchyard beds
take flight,
With a kiss, perhaps, on her lantern chaps, and a grisly grim "good
night";
Till the welcome knell of the midnight bell rings forth its
jolliest tune,
And ushers our next high holiday - the dead of the night's high
noon!
poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
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At 25k Feet Above
on a bed of clouds
feet dangling into the sea
you and me
above the clouds
the horizon beckoned us
we glided in the air
bits and pieces
clouds dispersed below the sky
new horizon teased
in a wink
the clouds spread as one grey spread
we melted as rain
vapour they turned
the heat within melted
we rocked
wings cut
through layers and layers of
moving vapours
slowly descended
we from the clouds above
earth-reality!
ah, you lifted me
above earth; closer to sky
dropped me on land again!
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Two Nights In One Day
Black clouds descend the threshold of peace,
men hastened to sleep by irons of blood
as seraphic sheeps slaughtered
in a cascade of crimson-like drips.
Black clouds descend the threshold of peace,
soulless souls on the prowl
shrieking with cruel delight
amid feasts on maiden-heads.
Black clouds descend the threshold of peace,
black clouds everywhere,
the garlands of peace trodden by beastly souls,
leaving us two nights in one day.
poem by Azubuike Justin
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Songs Of The Sky
In a sky of layered clouds,
dawn becomes a rainbow,
moving through the spectrum
toward the day.
In a sky of always blue,
no clouds ride the wind:
the sun burns brightly,
high and hot and long.
In a sky of may grays,
clouds crash, explode and roar;
rain-filled winds sweep across the prairie.
In a sky of many blues,
clouds dance on the wind;
and endless and quixotic
Rohrschach test.
In a sky of always gray,
no clouds seem to move;
overcast blots out imagination.
In a sky of cold, cold blue,
gray clouds scrape the treetops;
harbingers of winter storms to come.
Beneath a sky of darkening gray,
the prairie grasses rustle
on the small, forgotten farms
of what could've been
and was.
In a sky of mottled gray,
cold rains fall, now and then;
the seasons struggle
for control of April.
In a sky of broken gray,
cold winds precede the rains;
and before long
the darkened clouds re-gather.
In a sky as clear as glass,
and blue from top to bottom,
sultry days of August
slowly drift into September.
In a twi-lit noon-time sky,
this annular eclipse
leaves us just a
ring around the moon.
In a sky of many clouds,
sunset's an inferno;
ablaze, in this,
my father's final twilight.
In a sky that slowly burns,
the clouds of fire fade
and leave a darker beauty
to hold the night.
poem by William Kruse
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