Fall.
A southeasterly wind has sprung up,
The sun is setting on the horizon;
Shades of red and yellow leaves_
Rattling along the tarred road.
poem by Tafadzwa Matamba
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Sun Setting.....
Blazen with an orange hue,
The sun started setting,
As if the running clouds
Are on fire, the trees
Gently swaying in the wind,
Birds roosting, after
Their feeding and happy flights,
Darkness started setting
On the eastern horizon,
With the mountain haloing
With the gently setting sun,
Stars dawning from the east
To the west of sky,
Bats strarted their
Daily evening prowls,
The sun said aduie
To one more daylight,
To star on the horizon
On the other side of earth,
Night softly landing after
The sun enduring daylong.
poem by Ravikiran Arakkal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
How Many Shades Of Green
HOW MANY SHADES OF GREEN
How many shades of green
Olive green
Dark green
Light green
Yellow green
How many shades of yellow
Deep yellow
Rose yellow
Sun yellow
Morning light yellow
How many shades of light
How much light
How much Beauty in the world
How much Light-
How much- God.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Yellow Ribbon On The Old Oak Tree
who can forget the yellow ribbon
on that old oak tree? tell me.
tomorrow, i shall wear my yellow cap
my yellow shirt, my yellow brief,
my yellow pants.
my jaundiced eye, my golden yellow ring.
tomorrow, in my country, the sky is yellow.
all steps lead to the yellow brick road.
all fruits are ripe and mellow and yellow.
Tomorrow, the country is yellow.
Yellow for integrity, Yellow for change.
Yellow for justice. Yellow for truth.
One day more, and the sun shall rise
Yellow as ever.Yellow forever.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Disgrace
We work all day
for a house and car.
Tarred and feathered
is what we are.
Stuck like Brer Rabbit
trying to get away
from mortgages and loans
and all we pay.
But that's the good
old American way.
We complain and comlain
but have no say.
We need a place to live
and a way to travel
so we pay and watch
our accounts unravel.
The cycle's unending.
The road's too long.
We can't find the end of it.
It's just plain wrong.
The scam is in place
for the tarred, feathered face.
And what we now have
is a damned disgrace.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Yellow
The sun gazes from afar;
An hour to a picture-perfect horizon;
As the rays scatter to the humid spheres;
Stuttering and pacing, to accommodate the evaporating droplets.
The sunbeams know their ultimate destiny,
Like a fortuneteller in front of a decorated palm;
To land on her mustard yellow sundress, her mystical yellow peau;
As she plays among the yellow tulips;
A vivacious lass in a breathtaking landscape;
As the sunbeams bathe her eager visage.
Then the winds gather speed;
As the sundress blows in the wind;
She sans a care in the world, letting the hemlines rise to the heavens;
As her gauzy embroidery catches the gaze of the passing orioles;
As they rock and float in the gathering wind;
Delicate creatures competing with the fluttering butterflies;
For the nectar of the buttercups.
As the marigolds and sunflowers bloom in full,
Magnetized to the passing Ra;
Then her prince joins her, as they land a passionate lip lock;
As the rouge in the lips blend against the yellow bonanza;
In the middle of nowhere, in a wilderness sprinkled with yellow bamboo;
As their bodies slither against each other and as the knee raises effortlessly;
A heavenly kiss, that awakes the passion of two longing souls;
As they slowly stroll towards the yellow quilt on the terrain
To welcome the setting sun even the rising moon
To welcome a beginning, one bathed in yellow.
poem by Dilantha Gunawardana
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Old Dirt Road
Aint no people on the old dirt road
No more weather on the old dirt road
Its better than a mudslide mamma when the dry spell come, yeah
Oh oh oh old dirt road
Aint no difference on the old dirt road
Tarred and feathered on the old dirt road
Trying to shovel smoke with a pitchfork in the wind, yeah yeah yeah
Breezing thru the deadwood on a hot summer day
I saw a human being lazybonin out in the hay
I said uh, hey mr. human can ya rainmaker too?
He said I guess its o.k. ya know the only thing we need is water
Cool, clear water, water
Aint no people on the old dirt road
No more weather on the old dirt road
Better than a mudslide mamma when the morning comes, yeah
Oh oh oh oh old dirt road
Keep on keeping on
Keep on keeping on
So long, so long
Bye bye
song performed by by Lennon John
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Just Beyond The Setting Sun
Just beyond the setting sun
lies a land where green leaves grow.
Just beyond the setting sun
seasons different come and go.
A warmly place
of peace and tranquillity.
Just beyond the setting sun
lies a home for you and me.
A place of no worries
where life is idyllic
to spawn generations to come,
warm in the summer sun
and cool as winter comes.
Just beyond the setting sun
lies a home we always wanted,
a paradise of beauty,
fulfilment and tranquillity.
Just beyond the setting sun
where our dreams come from.
There within those pastures green
lies our future destiny,
just over the horizon,
just beyond the setting sun.
26 July 2009
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Farewell to Meng Hao-jan
I took leave of you, old friend, at the
Yellow Crane Pavilion;
In the mist and bloom of March, you went
down to Yang-chou:
A lonely sail, distant shades, extinguished by blue--
There, at the horizon, where river meets sky.
Old Dirt Road
Aint no people on old dirt road,
No more weather on the old dirt road.
Its better than a mudslide, mama, when the dry spell come, yeah,
Oh, oh, oh, oh, old dirt road.
Aint no diffrence on old dirt road,
Tarred and feathered on the old dirt road.
Trying to shovel smoke with a pitchfork in the wind, yeah, yeah, yeah.
Breezing thru the deadwood on a hot summer day,
I saw a lazybonin out in the hay.
I said, ah, hey, mister human, can ya rainmaker too?
He said, I guess its okay, you know the only thing we need is water,
Cool, clear water , (water) water, (water).
Aint no people on old dirt road,
No more weather on the old dirt road.
Its better than a mudslide, mama, when the morning come, yeah,
Oh - oh - oh - oh - old dirt road.
Ah!
Mm, good night.
Keep on keeping on,
Keep on keeping on,
Keep on keeping on,
Keep on keeping on,
Keep on keeping on,
Keep on keeping on,
Keep on keeping on,
So long,
So long,
Bye, bye,
Bye,
Keep on keeping on,
Keep on keeping on,
Keep on, keep on, keep on, keep on,
Keep on, keep on, keep on.
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
On this Sunday morn
Lemon yellow clear horizon
On this Sunday morn
I think of you in Corazon
Happy not forlorn
The lemon yellow is my smile
That I bestow on you
The clear horizon are your eyes
May they shine with love to you
poem by Harriet James
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Late autumn
The yellow veldt, the skeleton chestnut trees
specs of orange-red aloes in the kopje
are near to the old white house
and in the late afternoon shades draw long lines
while I walk up to the house on the red-brown dirt road
and most of the flowers in the garden are stripped bare
but a few irises are flowering yellow,
purple and cream brown
and the sky is dull blue and the early evening cold
is already on the wind that is rustling everything
and after years I open the garden gate
are coming back to my childhood home
stripped from illusions,
and I am bare from the childhood innocence
but full of hope
and looking through a mature man’s eyes.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Appreciation
Stop for a moment.
Open up your eyes
and see the entire splendor
under the skies.
The shades of green
covering the land,
The shades of blue water
in front of the sand,
The shades of red
that come at night
when you are viewing
a sunset's light,
The shades of yellow
in a glorious field
when daffodils bloom
in a springtime yield.
Now close your eyes
and keep them in mind
and the splendor stays with you
you will find.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Yellow Brick Road of Life
Yellow means wisdom, bricks are challenges,
Getting off the yellow road is getting into problems, open spaces.
At the end of the yellow road we find what we always looked for,
The truth, the power is within us, not in any counselor.
We have to step through all the yellow bricks,
Solve each challenges, find wisdom, & never believe in the statistics.
Go through all problems, if we solve them well, we become wiser,
Weakling no longer, better, healthier, richer and stronger.
If we fall out of the yellow brick road we loose time,
Running away from life, stagnate, get into grime.
Some of us makes it back and learns more wisdom,
Some withers away in sickness, alcohol, drugs and do not blossom.
However, if we get to the end and we find the answer,
We'll continue on the yellow brick road as a seasoned traveler.
We'll find wisdom to face life and find true happiness,
By calling everything 'good', all turns into real success.
poem by LaSoaphia QuXazs
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Long Road
And I wished for so long cannot stay
All the precious moments cannot stay
It's not like wings have fallen cannot stay
But still something's missing I cannot say yea
Holding hands are daughters and sons
And their faiths are falling down down down down
I have wished for so long
How I wish for you today
Will I walk the long road the long road
Cannot stay the long road
There's no need to say goodbye say goodbye
All the friends and family
All the memories going round round round
I have wished for so long
How I wish for you today
And the wind keeps roarin'
And the sky keeps turning grey
And the sun is setting
The sun won't rise another day
I have wished for so long
How I wish for you today
I have wished for so long
How I wish for you today
Will I walk the long road
We all walk the long road
Will I walk the long road
We all walk the long road
Will I walk the long road
Will I walk the long road
We all walk the long road
Will I walk the long road
We all walk the long road
Will I walk the long road
song performed by by Pearl Jam from Merkinball
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Islamic america
Islamic America
It happened in the years when vegans and anti car people were in
power in North America it was decided to outlaw the automobile.
Every driver had to drive off a cliff and into an asphalt pit. When
they got out of there, and since everybody in USA can drive, even
old women and children, the nation was tarred. It was noticed that
God, Jesus, his coteries of seraphs and the second layers of angels,
the cherubs were un-tarred. How can one worship the un-blotted?
People turned away from Christianity. As no image of Mohamed
existed it was decided he too had been tarred, but it had been
kept a secret. Overnight, Americans turned into virtuous Moslems
and USA became the most powerful Islamic nation in the world.
poem by Oskar Hansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Autumn's Grace
The autumn’s dream may keep its dying grace
With flecks and shades of bleeding leaves and yellow.
The cold wind's scorch may wither the green’s space,
When fruits of green a bit more need to mellow.
And autumn’s tear on every leaf perceives
The cold wind, which scorches green so cruelly,
Till glass fleck shade of bleeding yellow leaves
The living world to meet its ground so coolly.
And autumn’s red may silence the bird’s voice,
When shivers of the tree the rain embrace
And nature's hide, having no other choice.
The winter slowly comes showing her white face.
poem by Marieta Maglas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
September 1961
This is the year the old ones,
the old great ones
leave us alone on the road.
The road leads to the sea.
We have the words in our pockets,
obscure directions. The old ones
have taken away the light of their presence,
we see it moving away over a hill
off to one side.
They are not dying,
they are withdrawn
into a painful privacy
learning to live without words.
E. P. "It looks like dying"-Williams: "I can't
describe to you what has been
happening to me"-
H. D. "unable to speak."
The darkness
twists itself in the wind, the stars
are small, the horizon
ringed with confused urban light-haze.
They have told us
the road leads to the sea,
and given
the language into our hands.
We hear
our footsteps each time a truck
has dazzled past us and gone
leaving us new silence.
Ine can't reach
the sea on this endless
road to the sea unless
one turns aside at the end, it seems,
follows
the owl that silently glides above it
aslant, back and forth,
and away into deep woods.
But for usthe road
unfurls itself, we count the
words in our pockets, we wonder
how it will be without them, we don't
stop walking, we know
there is far to go, sometimes
we think the night wind carries
a smell of the sea...
poem by Denise Levertov
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Freedom Through Wisdom
Today 'freedom' is a misunderstood word,
There are many ways to translate its worth.
Many thinks they are free, but we can question that,
Each must walk on the yellow brick road to understand the bet.
In this life we are all walking on or beside the yellow brick road,
Since yellow means wisdom, we learn lessons one by one in a special mode
Sometimes we learn, sometimes just stagnate on some way,
Fighting with others, take smoke, drugs, alcohol or as he/she may.
However, if we find the right faith in the Power of the Universe,
By arriving at the end of the yellow road we can transverse.
We'll reborn without dying finding what we always suppressed,
We can love life, forever be free and blessed.
Fearless to face our problems and call them all 'good',
We'll know all are lessons; we have to solve them as we could,
Eventually we understand all was necessary for us to grow,
Become better, stronger, and wiser by overcoming each woe.
We'll find that nobody can force us to understand,
Each of us has to arrive to the answer without force or bend,
Then we can continue walking on the yellow brick road,
In peace, true happiness, learn lessons and hope each will be a light load.
poem by LaSoaphia QuXazs
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Loving You Forever
The sun is slowly setting.
The sunset is magnificent with the different shades of pink and red spread across the sky.
I touch your cheek and notice just how pale it really is.
The sun is slowly setting.
My smile falters as you hush my voice and murmur time is short.
My mind is telling me to leave, but my heart is pleading me to stay.
The sun is slowly setting.
You grab my hand and draw me close to you.
I look into your eyes, and search for something evil, but all I see is love.
The sun is slowly setting.
I lean my head against your chest and take in all your love.
You wrap your arms around me and tell me not to be afraid.
The sun is slowly setting.
Shadows are falling all around us, enclosing us in darkness.
An eerie breeze causes a chill to scurry up my spine.
The sun is slowly setting.
The time has come; you tilt my face up towards yours and tell me that you love me.
My heart is beating fast now as I say it in return.
The sun is slowly setting.
Your eyes are open and I see that they are masked with fear, and yet, love still shines through.
You smile and a flow of dawning realization rushes throughout my system.
The sun is slowly setting.
I try to scream, but my speech has been impaired.
I try to run, but my feet remain in place.
The sun is slowly setting.
You tell me not to worry, and that everything’s all right.
You take my hand in yours and move it to your heart.
The sun is slowly setting.
I feel myself relax as I tilt my head, allowing my neck to be vulnerable.
I feel a prick of pain against my neck, and then a rush of warmth and love overcomes me.
The sun is slowly setting.
The coldness is no longer my concern, for I feel no breeze against my pale skin.
Never will anything be my concern, for now we are together, for all eternity.
The sun is slowly setting.
At last the sun has subsided into the earth.
Above us, the sky is black, and at peace.
Surprise in Japan - Our Rattling Plates
earthquake
teutonic plates rattle
our plates
earthquake
rattling our nerves
the plates on the shelf
softly rattling
to an earthquake
our plates on the shelf
ratting plates
our seismic
detector
rattling plates
oh it is the earthquake
bothering us again
Ring of Fire
every now and then
our plates rattle
rattling plates
a belief in fate keeps
my heart calm
rattling plates
i put my life in
the hands of god
Japan is on one of the most siesmic proned region of the world called ring of fire. In our apartment, every now and then, the plates we stack one over the other on the shelf would rattle. When the earthquake was
strong enough, they would jump off the shelf. It was a surprise to me at first when I heard our plates rattled every now and then especially at night.
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!