En.Citatepedia^®.ro

After Years

Today, from a distance, I saw you
walking away, and without a sound
the glittering face of a glacier
slid into the sea. An ancient oak
fell in the Cumberlands, holding only
a handful of leaves, and an old woman
scattering corn to her chickens looked up
for an instant. At the other side
of the galaxy, a star thirty-five times
the size of our own sun exploded
and vanished, leaving a small green spot
on the astronomer's retina
as he stood on the great open dome
of my heart with no one to tell.

poem by Ted Kooser
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After years

once i have
established
a solid faith
but now i stand
faint hearted
blown by the wind
a statue picking dust
in the open
that would shine
glitter with
just a swish
of your hands
this multi-faceted world
leaving me
floating, sinking,
fainting, laughing,
weeping, crying,
like in the middle of the sea
all the metaphors
that you could seek
of a troubled life
swirling in your mind
in the water
calm facade
stormy swishy mass,
crushing tsunami
the gods, the devils
that trail
my mental world
a sea of anguish, loss
seeking a truth
a needle in the ocean
they call the almighty

inspired by:

After Years

Today, from a distance, I saw you
walking away, and without a sound
the glittering face of a glacier
slid into the sea. An ancient oak
fell in the Cumberlands, holding only
a handful of leaves, and an old woman
scattering corn to her chickens looked up
for an instant. At the other side
of the galaxy, a star thirty-five times
the size of our own sun exploded
and vanished, leaving a small green spot
on the astronomer's retina
as he stood on the great open dome
of my heart with no one to tell.

poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Somewhere

somewhere you speak of a star
bigger
thirty times
than our star and you say
you have seen it from your
telescope
where you stand
how the star explodes
and then
gone, leaving just a space,
a patch of
black dot
in your eyes,

i do not wish to understand you further
with your calculations
about the risks, the dangers, the consequences
of what happens
in that distant sky

here i am in my daily cares, i remember
feeding corn to the chickens, or cleaning my car, or
frying my cues,
or simply sitting by the stair
and just merely looking at the passing butterfly
hovering
in the summer air

what do i know about distance?
what do i care about distant stars
how they explode and how
the space starts to become empty, and grow another star again?

what i know of is simple enough
i do not know you
anymore, and i think, i am about to explode
and i think
i may become empty like what you are telling me
about that space left by the exploding star

and i am afraid
i am the kind of person
in this place
of the universe
that does not know how to grow a star again
after an explosion

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Shattered Shards

looking in the
distance
suddenly a star
appeared.

Revealing a
face
so familiar
a face of
yester-year.

It burst into
a million pieces
scattering shards
through out the
universe.

Impossible to
retrieve
until this day
one small piece
remains missing.

Leaving me
wandering
forever searching

poem by Heather Burns
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From a distance

From a distance Lord I followed You
as I wondered what the crowd would do.
Keeping silent I walked by myself.
There undetected I moved with stealth.

In the distance You were on Your own
before the Sanhedrin all alone.
By the fireside I stood keeping warm
leaving You alone to face the storm.

Then, 'You're one of them' I heard her say
so I turned my head and looked away.
'I don't know this man' out loud I said
and cursing denied my Lord instead.

Far from You my Lord I swore out loud
unable now to hide in the crowd.
With oaths and curses as I stood there
three times denying they heard me swear.

Your eyes met mine in the distance Lord
they spoke much louder than any word.
For the way, Lord that You looked at me
convicted me of my hypocrisy.

I felt so ashamed of what I'd done
and into the distance tried to run.
Though I wept and sobbed deep tears of grief
I was unable to find any relief.

In the distance as You climbed the hill
I kept myself hidden there until
You were led away and crucified.
The Lord I'd forsaken and denied.

'Too late' I thought as I saw You die.
'Too late to say sorry' was my cry.
So I left behind that shameful cross
and went back to fishing feeling my loss.

All through the night I was toiling there
as the dawn rose I looked in despair.
Then a voice called out loud from the shore
'On the other side you'll catch much more.'

On the other side we filled our net.
So many fish I'll never forget.
'It is the Lord' I heard someone say.
I leapt out of the boat straight away.

To be close to You was my desire
swimming to join You there by the fire.
The others joined with us at the meal
their wonder unable to conceal.

Three times You asked me if I loved You.
Three times I said 'Lord, You know I do.'
I thought as we dined by the sea shore
'I'll not keep my distance any more.'

poem by Royston
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Through the Ages

Through the ages
tracking a star
looking,
searching
for one face
the only face
that I adore.

In a starburst
you appeared
captured my
attenton
stole my heart.

As it fell to
earth
you vanished
leaving my heart
in despair.

poem by Heather Burns
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You Were A Star (But Fallen From Grace)

each time i looked
so humbly at your darling face
i could see the shine in your eyes
the smile, the joy, the wise
the heart of likeness
but all left mine unknown to none
faded away all at once
and never saw you shine again
but, you were a star
that sent me away at once
and faded,

if it were a star i need
i would low my speed
to see the light indeed
and stand by you as a kid
would do, my own seed
has fallen by the grains of weed
never to source me a feed
but faded,

each tree by their own stem
curing its leaves for them
to green and shade over them
without care of which worm
amongst them
has any problem
to grow and seed on them
when the rain starts to fall on them
but still faded,

each moment has a memory
and each memory has a story
from each story, have said sorry
and please don't worry
but why would i worry
when all merry shall mellow
and all scary shall let go
and still faded,

to reveal is to declare
to feel the will is to dare
awe is never than stare
a science of love and care
but why dare
today
and run without say
whence all shine has gone there
and downed the star that was there
and faded away...never to shine there

but you were a star
fallen from grace
yet gone by the dark
each time i looked into yours
a star i could see
any man could reckon with
but now you are never a star
but that which fell from grace
that day you were, a star!

poem by Onalethuso Petruss Ntema
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The Perch

There is a fork in a branch
of an ancient, enormous maple,
one of a grove of such trees,
where I climb sometimes and sit and look out
over miles of valleys and low hills.
Today on skis I took a friend
to show her the trees. We set out
down the road, turned in at
the lane which a few weeks ago,
when the trees were almost empty
and the November snows had not yet come,
lay thickly covered in bright red
and yellow leaves, crossed the swamp,
passed the cellar hole holding
the remains of the 1850s farmhouse
that had slid down into it by stages
in the thirties and forties, followed
the overgrown logging road
and came to the trees. I climbed up
to the perch, and this time looked
not into the distance but at
the tree itself, its trunk
contorted by the terrible struggle
of that time when it had its hard time.
After the trauma it grows less solid.
It may be some such time now comes upon me.
It would have to do with the unaccomplished,
and with the attempted marriage
of solitude and happiness. Then a rifle
sounded, several times, quite loud,
from across the valley, percussions
of the custom of male mastery
over the earth -- the most graceful,
most alert of the animals
being chosen to die. I looked
to see if my friend had heard,
but she was stepping about on her skis,
studying the trees, smiling to herself,
her lips still filled, for all
we had drained them, with hundreds
and thousands of kisses. Just then
she looked up -- the way, from low
to high, the god blesses -- and the blue
of her eyes shone out of the black
and white of bark and snow, as lovers
who are walking on a freezing day
touch icy cheek to icy cheek,
kiss, then shudder to discover
the heat waiting inside their mouths.

poem by Galway Kinnell
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Women's harvest song

I am waving a ripe sunflower,
I am scattering sunflower pollen to the four world-quarters.
I am joyful because of my melons,
I am joyful because of my beans,
I am joyful because of my squashes.

The sunflower waves.
So did the corn wave
When the wind blew against it,
So did my white corn bend
When the red lightning descended upon it,
It trembled as the sunflower
When the rain beat down its leaves.

Great is a ripe sunflower,
And great was the sun above my corn-fields.
His fingers lifted up the corn-ears,
His hands fashioned my melons,
And set my beans full in the pods.
Therefore my heart is happy
And I will lay many blue prayer-sticks at the shrine of Ta-wa.
I will give corn to Ta-wa,
Yellow corn, blue corn, black corn.
I wave the sunflower,
The sunflower heavy with pollen.
I wave it, I turn it, I sing,
Because I am happy.

poem by Amy Lowell
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My Mind Was Full Of Ideas This Morning

my mind is full of ideas this morning
while i am walking alone
on the grassy path of this mountainside

i am so tired. I take my rest sitting on a log
rotting under a tree.

i gaze on the ricefields just below this hill.
some white herons as usual fly low
some sparrows regroup themselves and
scatter in an instant like a confetti of dry leaves.

the sun comes out in glory
proclaiming though its reign on this corner
the gumamela flowers on the side of the hills bow down
and bloom again

i am amazed on the beginning of this beautiful day.
The butterflies flutter on the bushes of white petals
of these wild flowers. I see a nest with three small white eggs.

the sound of waters cascading on the creek.
some leaves are carried away. A fish jumps trying to catch
a low flying dragonfly. Some dew begins to lose their
glow on the bamboo leaves.The law of evaporation gets in.

Lost. I am so empty.The window of my heart is open.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Will Remain...

get away...
from the rat race
we call society...
a small house
next to the woods,
with a big garden spot.
green beans, corn, and tomatoes,
can and put back.
stack firewood in neat stacks,
chickens, maybe a cow.

it's gonna fall!
we have reached the breaking point.
go back to what matters.
family, spirit, neighbors...
living simple means free!

the kingdom of oil implodes!
only the kingdom of the heart
will remain!

poem by Eric Cockrell
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Astronomer

Your skin...........
A tapestry of diamond dwarfs,
Glittering on moonlit heavens;
Cascading from forehead to ankle;
A waterfall of ecstatic moonbeams;
Partaking perfection in a golden skyline.
Your eyes.............
That shimmer and blitz;
Like Venus at nightfall;
Twin getaways sprinkling highways of light;
Amidst your bountiful carpets,
Of diamonds and moonbeams;
Your hair............
Shooting to earthly gravity;
Like a meteor shower,
Bowing to a convivial tug;
Luscious and falling in a momentous bundle.
Your nucleus.............
Jupiter with her craters wide open;
Your magnanimous red spot,
Firmly clasped, in to the now boisterous mine.
All this celestial glory,
Purified to the retina,
Of my magnetized eyes;
For I am the sole astronomer gazing at your nightly sky.

poem by Dilantha Gunawardana
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Relativity

I looked down on a daisied lawn
To where a host of tiny eyes
Of snow and gold from velvet shone
And made me think of starry skies.

I looked up to the vasty night
Where stars were very small indeed,
And in their galaxy of light
They made me think of daised mead.

I took a daisy in my hold;
Its snowy rays were tipped with rose,
And with its tiny boss of gold
I thought--how like a star it glows!

I dreamt I plucked from Heaven's field
A star and held it in my hand.
Said I: "The might of God I wield,
The Great and Small I understand."

For when the All is said and done,
In Time and Space I seem to see
A daisy equal to a sun,
Between heart-beats--Eternity

poem by Robert William Service
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The Ancient Hills Of Toora

The ancient hills of Toora are looking brown today
Yet they were lush and rather green when last I passed this way
But that was last September when the nesting birds did sing
And every where looked greener in the early days of Spring.

To those ancient hills of Toora the Seasons come and go
And where once were thousands of gum trees only a few gums grow
And the Aboriginals who lived and hunted on those hills are not around today
Time brings with it great changes and it's always been that way.

The ancient hills of Toora as old as father time
And they were millions of years old when Christ was in his prime
The oldest human on Planet Earth perhaps fifteen years with five score
But the ancient hills of Toora will exist forever more.

The ancient hills of Toora overlooking Toora Town
From the long and warm dry Summer have never looked so brown
But I recall last September decked in their wildering flowers
Those ancient hills of Toora lush and green after Spring showers.

poem by Francis Duggan
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Across the Road

To cross or not to cross
was all I thought
when I saw her face across the road.
Her eyes was set as though she lost her soul,
so lost like she is never in this world.
She never minded her shadow on the ground...
her watch as if to melt under her stare,
tic tacked not faster than her heartbeat
for she thought her head was on her feet-
At last, she looked my way
and her pretty face paled.
Suddenly she stood still as though
she gasped some air from death to life...
I can't escape her stare.
To cross or not to cross, I never thought
when across the road she merely stood
nearly meeting her shadow on the ground.
I closed my eyes- I heard the sound
of her crying heart, I found
myself walking away with the woman on my side.
It pained to see her that way cry...
just because I couldn't cross the road for her.
It pained to watch her die.

poem by Jessel Jane Tevar
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Hands Made Of Dust

butterfly....
flash for an instant,
then gone forever,

leaving only the echoes
of your small fragile wings
riding the wind....

eternity, an instant,
nothing else needed,
holding starlight

in the palms
of hands made of dust!

poem by Eric Cockrell
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Egg cell in the Egg yoke

peace is what the heart wish, wanted to dream and unlash
the trembling dream to unify the daring struggle as the world
offer the newness of time; amidst the uncertainty of each
moment

stand beneath the golden ball of sun passing my eyelids of
fear, the glittering flame engulf my deep sleep in the middle
of the night, my dear love one soundly nap in my lap; listening
my sweet hymn of a wonderful goodbye; with a flashing of
lightning speed up my face i close

say i stop flashing my ball, stay my side, where I stare my
angry heart, wait i go and lay, never return with empty handed
of blood, catch the rolling fire in my hand its dry, as tear fall to
the ground and the grave leave no mercy, the darkness has come
without me, i am the total surrender of the flesh I love seeing
death in the soil you return

a game without a same, as you play, everybody gain the
glooming world to flame; the wonderful great light exploded in
the amazing world of misery as the end stop to begin and each
one never be the same, for today becomes the past to pray

open your heart again, listen the heart that sing in harmony
with a child that whisper the winning voice of great super power
of pain; remember that; like a wind the dust follows each
direction of no where to go, leaving the shadow of you in the
memory of the ray that always stay in the blooming flower of
a beautiful garden of creation

be a man of today, follow the wisdom of the heart and lead
the future of a wonderful sky to fly............

' stop, look and listen, nuclear super distribution is not the
answer of an angry world to live, open be a man of God,
lead the world of harmony of love '

poem by Antonio Liao
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Handful Of Dust

Your pressed your face against my heart
I felt that you could look right through me
We live in days that have no time
We live in times that now refuse me
And somewhere out beyond his town
There lies a world that now can turn us round
And we need it and we need it
Oh got to have some thing to believe in
Ive got enough to believe in you
What can I give just to know that its true ?
But Ive gotta begin to say
Now theyve taken my pride in this way.
How can you give me your love ?
I just cant give you enough
How can you give me your trust
With a handful of dust ?
I feel to thin before your eyes
I feel so naked under open skies
I once stood tall within this town
But now the time has come to bring us down.
We must have more with his power in hand
We must believe things will go as we planned
But Ive gotta begin to say
Now theyve taken my pride in this way.
How can you give me your love ?
I just cant give you enough
How can you give me your trust
With a handful of dust,
With a handful of dust ?
Making love through electric skies
Now I know where my fortune lies
Breathe the air and feel this land
cause its slipping through me
Like dust from my hand.
How can you give me your love ?
I just cant give you enough
How can you give me your trust
With a handful of dust ?
How can you give me your love ?
I just cant give you enough
How can you give me your trust
With a handful of dust ?
How can you give me your love ?
How can you give me your love ?
Now give me your love!
How can you give me your trust
With a handful of dust ?
How can you give me your love ?
Give me
How can you give me your trust
With a handful of dust ?

song performed by by Spandau Ballet
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Elijah Browning

I was among multitudes of children
Dancing at the foot of a mountain.
A breeze blew out of the east and swept them as leaves,
Driving some up the slopes.... All was changed.
Here were flying lights, and mystic moons, and dream-music.
A cloud fell upon us. When it lifted all was changed.
I was now amid multitudes who were wrangling.
Then a figure in shimmering gold, and one with a trumpet,
And one with a sceptre stood before me.
They mocked me and danced a rigadoon and vanished....
All was changed again. Out of a bower of poppies
A woman bared her breasts and lifted her open mouth to mine.
I kissed her. The taste of her lips was like salt.
She left blood on my lips. I fell exhausted.
I arose and ascended higher, but a mist as from an iceberg
Clouded my steps. I was cold and in pain.
Then the sun streamed on me again,
And I saw the mists below me hiding all below them.
And I, bent over my staff, knew myself
Silhouetted against the snow. And above me
Was the soundless air, pierced by a cone of ice,
Over which hung a solitary star!
A shudder of ecstasy, a shudder of fear
Ran through me. But I could not return to the slopes—
Nay, I wished not to return.
For the spent waves of the symphony of freedom
Lapped the ethereal cliffs about me.
Therefore I climbed to the pinnacle.
I flung away my staff.
I touched that star
With my outstretched hand.
I vanished utterly.
For the mountain delivers to Infinite Truth
Whosoever touches the star!

poem by Edgar Lee Masters from Spoon River Anthology
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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My Childhood Temple Song

The winding melody fell to rest
Upon the word Shalom
Small intake of collective breath
The doors of the arc slid apart
Brocade of Torah shone

Children taught the ritual ways
Led forth by the hidden choir
Known only to The Name
Taught through repetition
In rabbinic tones mellifluent
What may be interpreted
What is kept the same.

I kissed the hem of prayer shawl
Never coming quite so near
To the girl beside me, while
She was my young heart's desire
The language that could reach her
More distant than the ancient one
We practised as we stood to sing
Side by side in unison.

That's maybe where the Rabbis erred -
To found their synagogue
Upon prime real estate
With cricket fields opposite
To mix the girls in with the boys
And the adopted with the old
I would perhaps have stayed close to
A dress more modest and less bold.

The temple cracked and was torn down
Raised again far from the grounds
Where crowds, leather and willow play
The melodies refashioned
While the words remain unchanged

And by their threads I find my way
Through the maze of hidden years
Back to the rows where I once stood
And sing them as a child would.

poem by Frank Bana
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The Day Jane Fainted

Jane fainted in the town
by the coach
on Saturday morning
and her mother

and other women
were around her
and you stood
a little way away

wondering what
had happened to her
I think it must be
that time of the month

you heard one woman say
maybe
her mother said
but she's not usually

like this
she added
will she be all right?
you asked

bending down
next to one
of the women
who had gathered

her mother looked at you
and said
yes it happens
at certain times

of the month
oh right
you said
none the wiser

gazing at Jane
at her dark hair
her eyes closed
her features

white and sweaty
best give her some air
her mother said
and you all stood up

and her mother
fanned her
with her hat
then after a minute or so

Jane opened her eyes
and said
what happened?
I went all funny

and everything went white
you fainted
her mother said
waving the hat

in front of Jane's face
I want to get up
Jane said
and so you

and her mother
helped her
to her feet
and she leaned

against the wall
of the bank
and looked around
she'll be all right now

a woman said
it happens
another said
after a few minutes

they went off
to the shops
leaving you
and your mother

and Jane
and her mother
standing by the coach
I'll be all right now

Jane said
ok
her mother said
and you all walked

along the street
to the shops
Jane walking behind
with you

her hand stealthily
reaching down
for yours and giving it
a little squeeze

then releasing it again
looking up at the sky
which had become dark
threatening rain.

poem by Terry Collett
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