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Captive Bird - 12 Bars 12 Dreams

12 BARS

Twelve rusty bars, one frozen lock -
Confined, sublime, an ancient Roc,
Enclosed inside a barren cage -
Her catacomb in sundown sage.

Of former days there is no trace
Except displays of fallen grace -
Twelve dreams, abiding in her place,
Are free and dwell in yawning space:

12 DREAMS

Of wings unfurled, and seething eyes
That dredge the depths of dawning skies
Unclamping clouds that hang below,
Once ice, dissolved in morning's glow;

Of clutching winds that carry free
Beyond a leaden anguished sea
Dispersing dust of stifled stars
Midst chunks of chain in slave bazaars;

Of swooping to a silent shore,
To perch beyond the ocean's roar
Amazed to feel the sobbing breeze
Message the leaves of rooted trees;

Of stalking trails of twilight tramps,
Within the fog of lighthouse lamps
That blink forlorn through caldron nights,
In search of shades of errant Kites;

Of darkling vast deserted lands,
The windswept stones, the shadowed sands,
Where ghosts of Moorish maidens lost
Conceal their groans in mourning frost;

Of blotting out the bloated moon
While feathers beat a banshee tune
And glimmers dance and prance aglow
Upon a pearly pale plateau;

Of tasting cool torrential rains,
Beyond the realm of binding chains,
And sipping freedom they exude
In quite drops of solitude;

Of whisking off a galley crew
Aboard a ship in midnight dew,
Beneath the pierce of seagull's screams
That mock the strands of scarlet streams;

Of sating once an aching craw
With tearing beak, with ripping claw
And echoed by an eldritch screech
While feasting on abandoned beach;

Of restive thoughts and weary wings
That drift on haze and smoky rings
Obscured within the opal shroud
Of her resemblance in the crowd;

Of croaking caws in broken rhyme
Of winter woe, of summer clime,
Of building nests of sundown sage
Beyond outside a barren cage.

poem by Terry O'Leary
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Born To Fly

Birds in a cage
that yearn to fly,
do you think
of a bright blue sky?

Are you content
to sit on a perch,
never outside
to seek and search?

God gave you wings
with which to soar
so you could sail
the breeze and explore

all of God's beauty
in this world,
flying free
with wings unfurled.

If I were a bird
I'd find a way
to escape my cage
and fly away.

poem by Edwina Reizer
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Our Bird In Your Cage

we have this bird
we both own it and love it and care for it
our bird
and you have this cage
that you only own
golden, new and strong and as you say it
so reliable
that when our bird is in that cage
it will be safe
and cannot escape

we feed this bird together
and give it water and birdseeds
and a place of twigs and swing
where the bird can play
and perch upon
like it is on a tree

days and years
we keep this bird in your cage
and we see it is dying
and wanting to be free

yet you say, this sickness is just temporary
time heals what has wounded it
and shall forget the power of its wings

days and more years
we keep this bird in your cage
and i have not listened at all
to the sad song of that bird
her waning chirps
her weakened wings
her way of losing hold to the dreams of its wings

today we see this bird is dead
but you have no sadness at all
you say, you will buy another bird
again to be kept in your cage

i could have told you
i am the bird in your cage and i too have forgotten the power of
my wings

i could have told you, i have long died
and have forgotten what freedom is, what love is, what i am

in the first place. How can i ever tell you?
you are my cage.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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VI

The tame bird was in a cage, the free bird was in the forest.
They met when the time came, it was a decree of fate.
The free bird cries, "O my love, let us fly to wood."
The cage bird whispers, "Come hither, let us both live in the
cage."
Says the free bird, "Among bars, where is there room to spread
one's wings?"
"Alas," cries the cage bird, "I should not know where to sit
perched in the sky."

The free bird cries, "My darling, sing the songs of the
woodlands."
The cage bird says, "Sit by my side, I'll teach you the speech of
the learned."
The forest bird cries, "No, ah no! songs can never be taught."
The cage bird says, "Alas for me, I know not the songs of the
woodlands."

Their love is intense with longing, but they never can fly wing
to wing.
Through the bars of the cage they look, and vain is their wish to
know each other.
They flutter their wings in yearning, and sing, "Come closer, my
love!"
The free bird cries, "It cannot be, I fear the closed doors of
the cage."
The cage bird whispers, "Alas, my wings are powerless and dead."

poem by Rabindranath Tagore from The Gardener (1913)
Submitted by Silvia Velea
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The Tame Bird Was In A Cage

THE tame bird was in a cage, the free bird was in the forest.
They met when the time came, it was a decree of fate.
The free bird cries, 'O my love, let us fly to the wood.'
The cage bird whispers, 'Come hither, let us both live in the cage.'
Says the free bird, 'Among bars, where is there room to spread one's wings?'
'Alas,' cries the caged bird, 'I should not know where to sit perched in the sky.'

The free bird cries, 'My darling, sing the songs of the woodlands.'
The cage bird sings, 'Sit by my side, I'll teach you the speech of the learned.'
The forest bird cries, 'No, ah no! songs can never be taught.'
The cage bird says, 'Alas for me, I know not the songs of the woodlands.'

There love is intense with longing, but they never can fly wing to wing.
Through the bars of the cage they look, and vain is their wish to know each other.
They flutter their wings in yearning, and sing, 'Come closer, my love!'
The free bird cries, 'It cannot be, I fear the closed doors of the cage.'
The cage bird whispers, 'Alas, my wings are powerless and dead.'

poem by Rabindranath Tagore
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Clouds

Clouds, the clouds diffuse a sad and somewhat somber hue;
Rain, the rain descends aslant from angry ashen skies;
Winds, the winds bemoan their loss of reins and calm control;

Shades, the shades appear suffused, alone in lurid haze;
Trees, the trees enshroud the eyes of misty brooding woods;
Leaves, the leaves desert their branches, falling one by one;

Birds, the birds intone a tune, a mourning monody;
Grass, the grass surrenders blades, impaled in truant winds;
Fields, the fields imbibe and quaff to quench an arid thirst;

Stones, the stones repulse the pearls, exploding tears of gloom;
Streams, the streams meander, hushed, to distant vapid shores;
Clouds, the clouds diffuse a sad and somewhat somber hue

poem by Terry O'Leary
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pointless War, Senseless Deaths

Twelve out of sixteen killed were defenseless
Nine were children, three were women
To kill them while sleeping, it makes no sense
But this tragedy is a really bad omen.

A Pandora's box of seething hate now opened
Damage control cannot cool down the rage
The gap has now irrevocably widened
The Dragon of terror is let out of the cage.

As pointless as the sands that grace the place
Flown by angry winds of lost directions
Such is the war whose cause we cannot trace
It is wiser to leave, lest Death take the options.

poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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Modern Love LXX

Modern Love LXX

First chill of autumn
summer has
fallen out of love

cold wind descends
where yesterday
geraniums smiled

autumn breeze
flowers tremble
like aching hearts
winter is launched
a piece of memory -
green tea cermony!

Chilled autumn rain
marigolds dance
upon the meadow

Two cats dart
upon the last grass
of departing summer

cool fall evening
filling black sky
vast empty eternity

frogs laughter
points the way
to lonely saltmarsh

again that ancient
taste of freshly
broken heart

first autumn chill
under burning leaves
the necks of swans

morning prayers
mists lift free
from ocean waves

sun filled glass
fresh peaches taste
gong of morning

red hibiscus opens
in response
to warm stare

two seagull lovers
dip and soar
namaste to summer

morning dove sails
pointing at sky
liquid blue coos

full suspended sun
reflected on water
creating some ocean

buddha moon
toothless grin smile
window hinges
chamomile blossoms
entire garden
bottom dregs of cup

zazen morning twilight
crack in split mind
in exactly the right place

summer's footprint
in deep winter snow
leads to spring

as-ton-ish-ed
to find no one
there, here!

sad snowman
calmly awaiting
springs agony

First autumn chill
summer has
fallen out of love

poem by Liberatore Suffoletta
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Sleepless In Whereis

I'm stealing through a twilit realm, the ancient pale of Whereis,
Passing chambers of an heiress (with no need to feel embarrassed)
Through a magic mystic mirror hanging curtainless.

A glimpse down naked alleyways (denuded by the moon) ex-
poses ghosts in gauzy tunics carving symbols, round and runic,
In distended dingy dungeons of uncertainness.

In misty streets of cobblestone - ancestral avenues -
Patchwork paths consume my shoes (chasing foggy curlicues
Twisting, twirling by in twos, floating anywhere they choose) ,
Leaving smoky residues in the footprints that confuse
Of the threaded wooden sticks that stalk a puppet wandering.

Distilled in drops of fantasy and fading into view
(Twixt the treasures in review, awful Towers peering through
Distant dimness bent askew) , shifting shadows I pursue
(Wearing faces I once knew) , lost - no stars to guide me true -
Midst the visions of the painted past I can't help pondering.

Contorted candelabra claw the skyline's walled suspension,
Caught in twilight's intervention - still unlit (in stark dissension) ,
Therefore seething with a tension, in the quiet apprehension
Of the watchman's inattention to the night-time's bold pretension
To her power, not to mention, to her hyperspace extension
(Far beyond my comprehension of the sundown's black dimension) -
On exhausted beaten boulevards of foolish fretfulness.

Oblivion depletes me, voiding haste and hurried hassles,
Me, a simple abject vassal, trailing moonlit floating castles,
- Fickle feet, but fingers facile grasp at straws and dangling tassels -
As I stumble through the rubble of forgetfulness.

I think I must be dreaming as I seem to see these things,
Neath the sky alive with wings of a nightingale that sings,
Midst the whispered murmurings soughed by phantoms clad as kings,
Pacing palaces in rings, while their hapless footfall clings
To the sagging sinking sands of midnight's splattered castled ruins.

Entangled in the swirling leaves that spin in dizzy flurries,
(While the wind beside me scurries, and a hermit ermine hurries)
Lurk my sleepy woes and worries (glowing faint but growing blurry)
Which, when plundered by the demon dusk, I'd left behind me strewn.

The forgery of multitudes between the silhouettes,
(And discarded cigarettes, neath the haunted parapets)
Mock my lonely echoed steps - mock my lonely echoed steps
(Struck like clicking castanets- struck like clicking castanets)
As I lace unlabeled lanes, erasing silence' sullen treason.

The mossy stones befuddle me, in winding rue rosettes,
(Lost within the oubliettes, and in vials of anisette)
Midst the mazy minuets, and the purling pirouettes
Of the fugitive Grisettes (flaunting charms and amulets)
Who, in flitting shades of arching bridges, linger longer, teasin'.

Along the When I'm drifting, just a stardust castaway,
Weaving, threading by cafés and deserted cabarets,
Just a gauzy appliqué on the river's crippled spray,
Chasing Fools along the way through the strands of yesterday,
Neath the throbbing peal of sobbing bells of spectral cloisters quaking.

In belfries, high and haughty, alabaster knights perform,
Riding stiff against a storm, steeped in clouds of chloroform,
While the raven skies deform and my shrivelled shovelled form
(Watching bats in steeples swarm close to candles waxing warm)
Hides in hallowed hallways, hanging, shoulders weary, weak and shaking.

Above me hover grinning masks and visages of Queens
Spewing fatal final scenes (against a scarlet sky they lean,
Dreary dripping guillotines) of demented doomed Dauphines,
Traced in opalescent ballrooms only tattered time remembers.

The hidden hands of Harlequins (while floating free, unseen,
Behind abandoned shuttered screens, inside of shrouded Halloweens)
Tap (on tumbrel tambourines) a dirge (with tattooed tones pristine)
For me (a heap in ragged jeans within this crazy cluttered scheme) ,
Trapped interred in toppled stone chateaus that dismal dawn dismembers.

Rogue breezes pierce, benumbing me, I feel my fingers freezin'
(In the cockcrow's purple season) though within, no rhyme or reason,
Caught impaled upon the jagged edge of early morning's breaking.

The chill evoking silver chimes of Nodomain start knelling
As the searing sun looms swelling, and their melodies hang dwelling
In the cloud drifts' care, revelling, but the Sandman's too compelling
And my weariness impelling - though my eyelids risk rebelling,
Where I'll fall, there's no foretelling for the starry sky's past telling,
As I fade beneath the flaming forge while embers tremble, waking.

poem by Terry O'Leary
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I See the Day-Glow Sky

I see the day-glow sky
With sojourn clouds I fly
You're all invited too
To race the morning dew
To see the sun anew

A dark, foul, murky night
Dies with its dreadful fright
How the soul sweeps up height
My wings lift freedom's flight

Living my dreams again
Not caring for how nor when
With soaring wings I fly
I see the day-glow sky

Shadows don't frighten me
Finally I feel free
You're all invited too
To chase in the pursuit
To seek the dawning truth

Rise on the sky's stairway
Rejoice in the coming day
Shake off a troubled mind
With breathless wings we climb

Living our dreams again
Caring not how and when
On spirited wings we fly
To see the day-glow sky

I see the day-glow sky
With sojourn wings I fly
You're all invited too
To race the morning dew
To see the sun anew
With sojourn wings I climb
I see the day-glow sky

poem by Andrew Michaels
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Parrot In The Cage

Parrot in the cage
laments, 'Alas, While I was free,
I was flying in the high sky,
my body didn't feel heavy,
I felt it like my wings, so easy;

But now, I am in a cage
living like a sage,
Even my wings, I feel
heavy and burden to me!
I can't fly.

poem by V.K. Kanniappan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Palace in the Sky

Forever lost inside my own world-never to come out of hiding
I am building palaces in the sky though I can only see the stars.
I can only see the stars, and
The quarter moon's light shining dimly upon the horizon
Casting its shadows upon the places of my dreams-
How I wish to escape the misfortunes of life upon this planet and
Make my home inside a palace somewhere in the sky.
I had built a million palaces, so it seems-
Every day and every night, I find myself rapidly losing my grasp upon
What is real and what is not- I am running a marathon toward someplace
Between the land where grasses and flowers grow and the
Trees, from the ground reaching upward to touch the clouds,
I can feel the gentleness of the late spring's breeze
Blowing against my cheeks, damp from tears that have I have cried, as
This world has not been kind to me.
People are heartless, and only laugh when I am weeping,
Looking into my eyes reading my thoughts, and
Ridiculing me as I converse with the voices inside of my mind,
Which have become my only consoling realities while inside this world of my fantasies,
I have become a dove with broken wings-which with deep gratefulness can still fly.
Lost inside some sort of trance, I am building palaces in the sky.
Placid breezes rustle the leaves upon the trees, almost making music-
Creating tunes about nature, peace of mind and are never threatening-
However, I know that one day these trees will all be cut down to fabricate homes
For thousands of people- people who have no heart or no spirit of patience or kindness
So I know that I must continue building my palaces in the sky.
Summer storms shall rip across the sky and I know I must use all my strength
To stay alive so I may lift my broken wings to find a palace which I have built-
The quarter moon is casting its light upon the world and about the sky-
I am glancing repeatedly towards the sky searching for my palace, my home-
Flying bravely about to the best of my ability, on
My endless search for freedom and safety, praying to a God I am not certain that exists-
My hope is to see my golden palace glistening beneath the light of the quarter moon,
All I can see are the stars- what lurks behind those stars I may never know,
But I shall continue to fight the clouds and build my palaces, my castles.
May the stars illuminate the darkness and guide me towards some redeeming veracity,
Even if I never find my palace- in the meantime I shall keep on
Looking upward and forward and even if my dreams never do come true-
I know I can always continue to travel about the sky and I know that
I shall forever behold the splendor of the moon and always count upon the stars
To elucidate the direction upon which I travel and for always be my guiding lights…

poem by Claudia Krizay
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Twelve Hours To London, But Backwards It's Better

the clouds crowd far beneath my feet;
but i—i’m distant! i wish she could see
the lands stretched free beside my wings;
better yet, i wish

she could stay and see me.

twelve hours to london and ten to parís,
but i—i’m reversing! back home where i'm free!
the skies become my heart’s soft, wisping-sigh dream:
by flashlight, I add

an eighteen, a three

poem by Antoine Lavoisier
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The Black Birds

I

Once, only once, I saw it clear, --
That Eden every human heart has dreamed
A hundred times, but always far away!
Ah, well do I remember how it seemed,
Through the still atmosphere
Of that enchanted day,
To lie wide open to my weary feet:
A little land of love and joy and rest,
With meadows of soft green,
Rosy with cyclamen, and sweet
With delicate breath of violets unseen, --
And, tranquil 'mid the bloom
As if it waited for a coming guest,
A little house of peace and joy and love
Was nested like a snow-white dove

From the rough mountain where I stood,
Homesick for happiness,
Only a narrow valley and a darkling wood
To cross, and then the long distress
Of solitude would be forever past, --
I should be home at last.
But not too soon! oh, let me linger here
And feed my eyes, hungry with sorrow,
On all this loveliness, so near,
And mine to-morrow!

Then, from the wood, across the silvery blue,
A dark bird flew,
Silent, with sable wings.
Close in his wake another came, --
Fragments of midnight floating through
The sunset flame, --
Another and another, weaving rings
Of blackness on the primrose sky, --
Another, and another, look, a score,
A hundred, yes, a thousand rising heavily
From that accursed, dumb, and ancient wood, --
They boiled into the lucid air
Like smoke from some deep caldron of despair!
And more, and more, and ever more,
The numberless, ill-omened brood,
Flapping their ragged plumes,
Possessed the landscape and the evening light
With menaces and glooms.
Oh, dark, dark, dark they hovered o'er the place
Where once I saw the little house so white
Amid the flowers, covering every trace
Of beauty from my troubled sight, --
And suddenly it was night!

II

At break of day I crossed the wooded vale;
And while the morning made
A trembling light among the tree-tops pale,
I saw the sable birds on every limb,
Clinging together closely in the shade,
And croaking placidly their surly hymn.
But, oh, the little land of peace and love
That those night-loving wings had poised above, --
Where was it gone?
Lost, lost forevermore!
Only a cottage, dull and gray,
In the cold light of dawn,
With iron bars across the door:
Only a garden where the withering heads
Of flowers, presaging decay,
Hung over barren beds:
Only a desolate field that lay
Untilled beneath the desolate day, --
Where Eden seemed to bloom I found but these!
So, wondering, I passed along my way,
With anger in my heart, too deep for words,
Against that grove of evil-sheltering trees,
And the black magic of the croaking birds.

poem by Henry Van Dyke
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I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings

The free bird leaps
on the back of the wind
and floats downstream
till the current ends
and dips his wings
in the orange sun rays
and dares to claim the sky.

But a bird that stalks
down his narrow cage
can seldom see through
his bars of rage
his wings are clipped and
his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings
with fearful trill
of the things unknown
but longed for still
and is tune is heard
on the distant hillfor the caged bird
sings of freedom

The free bird thinks of another breeze
an the trade winds soft through the sighing trees
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright lawn
and he names the sky his own.

But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing

The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom.

poem by Maya Angelou
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Stanzas. -- April, 1814

Away! the moor is dark beneath the moon,
Rapid clouds have drank the last pale beam of even:
Away! the gathering winds will call the darkness soon,
And profoundest midnight shroud the serene lights of heaven.

Pause not! The time is past! Every voice cries, Away!
Tempt not with one last tear thy friend’s ungentle mood:
Thy lover’s eye, so glazed and cold, dares not entreat thy stay:
Duty and dereliction guide thee back to solitude.

Away, away! to thy sad and silent home;
Pour bitter tears on its desolated hearth;
Watch the dim shades as like ghosts they go and come,
And complicate strange webs of melancholy mirth.

The leaves of wasted autumn woods shall float around thine head:
The blooms of dewy spring shall gleam beneath thy feet:
But thy soul or this world must fade in the frost that binds the dead,
Ere midnight’s frown and morning’s smile, ere thou and peace may meet.

The cloud shadows of midnight possess their own repose,
For the weary winds are silent, or the moon is in the deep:
Some respite to its turbulence unresting ocean knows;
Whatever moves, or toils, or grieves, hath its appointed sleep.

Thou in the grave shalt rest—yet till the phantoms flee
Which that house and heath and garden made dear to thee erewhile,
Thy remembrance, and repentance, and deep musings are not free
From the music of two voices and the light of one sweet smile.

poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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Caged Bird

The free bird leaps
on the back of the wind
and floats downstream
till the current ends
and dips his wings
in the orange sun rays
and dares to claim the sky.

But a bird that stalks
down his narrow cage
can seldom see through
his bars of rage
his wings are clipped and
his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings
with fearful trill
of the things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom

The free bird thinks of another breeze
and the trade winds soft through the sighing trees
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright lawn
and he names the sky his own.

But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing

The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom.

poem by Maya Angelou (1994)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Nature's Night

A scented forest in the dark
Beneath the glowing moon
Dampened now by crystal drops
Because the morning's coming soon

The susurrous of sleeping leaves
Like gentle snoring in the night
Where dreams of sweet fertility
Dance beneath the soft moonlight

I wander free upon the breeze
Entranced by everything I see
By sights and sounds and musty scents
And feel the forest deep in me

Caught inside the sultry dreams
I howl with wolves in joyful song
For here beneath the slumbering stars
Lies the place where I belong

poem by John W Flournoy
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Fly Away

Spread your wings
Flying over frozen mountains
Crystal rivers and geizer fountains
????
Float with the breeze and cross seas to shores
Deserts, cactus, and tumbleweed
Irish meadows and fields of green
Glide through cities of brick and stone
Broken arrows of ancient roan
Fly with me
Come on and fly with me
Come on and fly with me
Come on and fly with me
Come on and fly with me
Won't you come fly with me?
Come on and fly with me
Come on and fly with me
Everybody
Haunted woodlands, forbidden trails
?????
Castle halls, underwater falls
Pyramids crumble when nature calls
Skies of blue become black with stars
Lightning bugs kept within jars
Sand moves slowly through the hour glass
Wings spread, we can all fly last
Everybody come and fly away
You must believe that you can fly away
Spread your wings and come and fly away
Just believe that you will fly away
Rock will melt, coal crystalize
The clouds and skylines materialize
Wings spread take flights over northern lights
Wolves howl over blood-red moonlit nights
We're Kings and Queens within our dreams
The sky rains down into ruby rings
Oceans river lakes and ponds
Lions unicorns birds and ???
Fly with me
Come on and fly with me
Come on and fly with me
Come on and fly with me
Come on and fly with me
Won't you come fly with me?
Come on and fly with me
Come on and fly with me
Everybody
Martians travel to the land of Mecca
Atlantis hidden deep under forever
Iceland golden tombs of pharoah kings
Rainbows trickelin diamond rings
Voices cry now echo carries
Angels dance with the cryptic fairies
Gates of Afterlife open swiftly
Stay if you wish...
But come fly with me
Everybody come and fly away
(fly with me, come on)
You must believe that you can fly away
(we could fly together, come on)
Spread your wings and come and fly away
(fly with me, come on)
Just believe that you will fly away
(we can fly together)
I'm hoping your imagination (imagination)
Beyond anything conceivable (anything conceivable)
Allow the unbelievable (unbelievable)
To take complete control of your soul (let it take control)
Levitate 3 feet above ground level (3 feet above ground level and raising)
Allow yourself to raise and amaze
Drift higher and higher into the moon's rays, come on
Everybody come and fly away
(fly with me, come on)
You must believe that you can fly away
(we could fly together, come on)
Spread your wings and come and fly away
(fly with me, come on)
Just believe that you will fly away
(we can fly together)
Everybody come and fly away
(fly with me, come on)
You must believe that, you must believe that you can fly away
(we could fly together, come on)
Spread your wings and come and fly fly away
(fly with me, come on)
Just believe that you will fly away
(we can fly together)
Everybody come and fly away
(fly with me, come on)
You must believe that you can fly away
(we could fly together, come on)
Spread your wings and come and fly away
(fly with me, come on)
Just believe that you will fly away
(we can fly together)

song performed by by Insane Clown Posse
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dance Mayflies Dance

They dance they sing a cheerful song
to spread the wings beyond along
the rising sun they want they take
under the blue of silent lake

They dance they sing a melody
no winter wind but trees embrace
the summer glows red ivory
no winter wind but only grace
they jump they fly a symphony
no winter wind but joyful face

They live they dance against the day
the moment of they can not dance
sparkling wings they were washed away
they fall dying they can not dance
the sky the moon were turning gray
till dawn they lost they can not dance

They are Mayflies which dance to live
though short they live they love to give
till dawn they lost their wings to fly
till dawn they lost the dreams so high

poem by Vidi Pudinkz
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If I can't sew notes together in a garland for my love...

If I can't sew notes together in a garland for my love...

If I do understand things but not those lofty says moulded in curves and twists doubtful of their own course...

But know what my heart says,

The simple, less known truths...

If I am accompanied by my dreams on my way back home...

And if I spend my hours to listen and admire the passive beauty...

And if I love solitude...

To weep into my own dark shadows...

Yet long a friend to begin my day...

I am not a dreamer...

Nor a lover,

Not a loner

I am someone who spends his silent nights in the the brightness of lamp of my wisdom, wisdom born of dark nights and fed by the bosom of life...

It's oil burn and flows it's fragrance to the woods clung with a note or two of songs that I hum...

I embark to a journey to lands far off...

And fill the voids of life with my expressions cold but true...

I leave a trace to my soul...

But I find its way

If I discover a self in chains of suffering whose polish shine in pride...

I set it to eternal freedom by giving it wings of love that shall sustain it...

Though my own wings are broken...

And my flight collapsed in unknown lands where it is marshy and hay...

And the sun light can't reach the thick layers...

But I feel its warmth...

And yet my wings beat..

And a light breeze sways...

Through the barrier of all lands and places...

Souls that bear burden of doubts and fears

Shall sail in the breeze finding the dusty ways of the divine hearts...

I am a poet...

You will feel me as the winds that blowth, the song of my heart...

My thoughts shall be your faith your life...

Yet you shall know not...

As I will be your tear your smile

Your doubt your faith...

And so you shall make me eternal...

But in anonymity...

Though I am your very self...

poem by Lama Abbas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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