A Rosy Dream
This is for you,
Did pencils ever write
unwritten paper
empty blank
broken moment
unsaid poems and little words of fear
This morning of our affection
we spill our emotions
through the glass of wine
of ordinary hot words....
and walk through the shore of sand
sea shore is now empty....
a rosy garden
where roses fall silent
at the gaze of the moon,
where the night falls in a rosy faint, and snow
like a' ruby 'drops....
In the morning of our belief
in the faces of stars
like a kiss of words
we rely upon,
the streets remain empty
and our watches break again...
our skies sing
in a painful breeze
we miss our little song
Did paint ever portray
unspoilt canvas
empty hands
idle colours
rest
In the morning of singing song,
whistling
birds.....
poem by Thampi KEE
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Empty Sky
I woke up this morning
I could barely breathe
Just an empty impression
In the bed there you used to be
I want a kiss from your lips
I want an eye for an eye
I woke up this morning to an empty sky
Empty sky, empty sky
I woke up this morning to an empty sky
Empty sky, empty sky
I woke up this morning to an empty sky
Blood on the streets
Blood flowin down
I hear the blood of my blood
Cryin from the ground
Empty sky, empty sky
I woke up this morning to an empty sky
Empty sky, empty sky
I woke up this morning to an empty sky
On the plains of jordan
I cut my bow from the wood
Of this tree of evil
Of this tree of good
I want a kiss from your lips
I want an eye for an eye
I woke up this morning to the empty sky
song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Suffering Is Always Personal and Better Left Unshared and Unspoken
my words are waking me up
my hand is ready, the computer beeps
i like to write an email for you
how many times shall this happen?
this urge to let you know
this morning, i again blame myself
because i can't
i am thinking of the consequences
i know how painful is it to fall
how empty can the house become
how a night without a stars can make us cry
sometimes
how the sound of the river when you walk alone
gives you the sound of the cry of the pebbles
they break their silence
they scream
for truths still untold
to rules that cannot be broken
when you enter that empty room again
a ball of silence meets you
you sit beside it
it speaks to you
this is the first time that you have seen
its nature
it is dressed with lips
and when they begin to open to about to speak to you
you close your hands
turning them into fists
and you hit your chest
and the ball of silence moves away from you
it is respect for pain
when silence pretends again that it is just a ball
and that it can go away
for men suffer all alone
on unsaid proportion
with that ability to embrace no
description
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Someday Morning
As the early morning filters through
My shuttered window pane
I look about and realize
That things are still the same
These flowers in a glass
Mark the hours that have passed
As I lay sleeping
And I can hear my footsteps ringing
Down the empty morning street
And the concrete that I walk upon
Is cold beneath my feet
A single winging dove
Reminds me of the sleeping love
That I am leaving
cause everyone must someday do his own thing
cause everyone must someday do his own thing
And I have a brand new song to sing
In the morning skies the stars
Begin to sputter and to fade
As the night surrenders all its claim
On shadows it has made
A watchdogs hungry bark
Is the mornings first remark
Upon my walking
And everyone must someday do his own thing
And everyone must someday do his own thing
And I have a brand new song to sing
And Im told that if I try
That I can do most anything
Well then I would like to sing a song
And make this morning ring
As the morning turns to day
Hear the waking city say
Who is that singing
song performed by by Jackson Browne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Halsted Street Car
Come you, cartoonists,
Hang on a strap with me here
At seven o’clock in the morning
On a Halsted street car.
Take your pencils
And draw these faces.
Try with your pencils for these crooked faces,
That pig-sticker in one corner—his mouth—
That overall factory girl—her loose cheeks.
Find for your pencils
A way to mark your memory
Of tired empty faces.
After their night’s sleep,
In the moist dawn
And cool daybreak,
Faces
Tired of wishes,
Empty of dreams.
poem by Carl Sandburg
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Paper, Only for a Limited Time
Paper, blank and empty
A metaphor only meant for loneliness
White as new born snow
Lets add some words
To make a prophesized poem
Words, only meant for rhetorical use
Clouds that clear, only meant to hide the blue
The living, moving ocean that is our sky
Words, only meant for questioning
What are words but meaning
Clearing clouds, our living pulse bleeds through
Now this blank piece of paper
Has a shadow, and my shadow -combine
Lets make music together
Beautiful, wonderful, majestic music
Lets be music together-
And dance our hearts to something holy
Paper, blank and empty
But easily filled to create art
Art that can change the world
Turn it upside down, or nothing
Paper, blank and empty
But only for a limited time.
poem by Troy Clark
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Those Empty People...
for in truth how can days be empty
with the sun up high
and grasses green below
and clouds of blue
in between?
those hollow men
chests filled with air
and words
without clarity and direction
words without meaning
spoken
without flesh and bones
promises and promises
nothing real
shattered principles
broken glass
indeed there are only empty
men speaking their
empty words
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fallen, Empty, And Broken
fallen soldier
fallen sky
fallen angel
from on high
fallen heartache
fallen soul
fallen man
losing control
empty bed
empty arms
empty dreams
empty heart
empty wallet
empty hands
cant take nothin'
from an empty man
broken promises
broken vows
broken spirit
wont allow
broken fences
broken lives
broken tomorrows
broken nights
fallen, empty, and broken
every road is the same
bent, bruised, and shaken
still numb from the pain
now you dont answer
when i call out your name
fallen, empty, and broken
walking in the rain...
fallen, empty, and broken...
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Walking With The Lover...
walking with the Lover...
i see empty fields plowed,
come alive with crops abundant.
empty factory buildings filled
with the ghosts of hard working lives.
empty houses lit up,
and the sounds of families.
empty hands given cups and bowls,
empty hearts held close!
empty words given meaning,
empty promises fulfilled.
walking with the Lover...
touching the plenty of empty!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Out Of The Darkness
Theres an empty street in an empty town
Theres an old boutique selling ageing gowns
Some words on the walls that were written
By the light of the moon so bright
Can you hear me, can you her me tonight
Take me out of this darkness and in to the morning light
The rain that falls doesnt make me cry
And the wind that blows cannot hurt my eyes
But the things that I see when I turn on tv
Make me wanna lie down and die
Can you hear me, can you her me tonight
Take me out of this darkness and in to the morning light
Can you hear me
Take me out of this darkness and in to the morning light
song performed by by Chris Rea
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Empty Chairs
I feel the trembling tingle of a sleepless night
Creep through my fingers and the moon is bright
Beams of blue come flickering through my window pane
Like gypsy moths that dance around a candle flame
And I wonder if you know
That I never understood
That although you said you'd go
Until you did I never thought you would
Moonlight used to bathe the contours of your face
While chestnut hair fell all around the pillow case
And the fragrance of your flowers rest beneath my head
A sympathy bouquet left with the love that's dead
And I wonder if you know
That I never understood
That although you said you'd go
Until you did I never thought you would
Never thought the words you said were true
Never thought you said just what you meant
Never knew how much I needed you
Never thought you'd leave, until you went
Morning comes and morning goes with no regret
And evening brings the memories I can't forget
Empty rooms that echo as I climb the stairs
And empty clothes that drape and fall on empty chairs
And I wonder if you know
That I never understood
That although you said you'd go
Until you did I never thought you would
song performed by by Don McLean
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Blank Pages
Blank pages
Blank books
Lie with only drowning white
No pretty messages in the sand
No clocks to turn a hand
Blank pages
Blank books
Looking into an empty void
Like staring at purgatory
Words with no meaning making up a story
Blank pages
Blank books
Stay staring at the celing
Empty without effort
Nothing without words
poem by Autumn Winds
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Liberty Sought For All
Words keep filling my brain.
I rarely write them down.
Because as soon as I empty my head.
Words start filling my brain again.
I can never empty my head.
For there remains too much unsaid.
Poignant thoughts, enlightened ideas, ideals.
Waiting for a poet to bring them to heal.
Words. Words. Words. Words. Words.
Whirling Whirling Whirling Whirling Words.
Waiting for a chosen moment, of precise creativity.
Waiting for a special moment, of ordained existence.
Waiting to transform
a corrupt materialistic world.
Waiting to put compassion
back into heartless hearts.
Waiting to restore love
vitality freedom and nobility.
Waiting to herald a new age
of heaven sent realized liberty.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Morning Time
Wind was blowing through the trees
I could hear the rustling of their leaves
The morning sun sneaking through the clouds
Birds singing morning sounds
For i love this time i say
Morning of a new day
I wonder what the day has in store
In the distance i hear the waves crashing the shore
For it is morning time and all is a buzz
From the depths of the oceans
To the skies above
Good morning morning i always say
My your a beautiful day
Maybe you might rain today
Your still beautiful anyway
The sombre breeze that blows around
The birds singing
As i spread my blanket on the ground
So i lay here looking into the sky
Motionless waiting and watching the world pass me by
A few drops of rain speckle my face
I would not give up being here for any place
The Silence Of Nothing To Say
The silence of nothing to say
Is forcibly broken by the will for words
A poem is made not born
And there are nights when only determination can say anything-
I write now in the shadow of the night
When all the light is artificial
When inside me is only an empty emptiness
A quiet of nothing deep or beautiful –
I can make a poem out of nothing
But then it may be nothing too
Words alone are not enough
The truer poem comes out of something deeper I do not have now
Let the words play
Let the silence be broken
Let this night be written down
For the empty poem it is.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Empty Pages
Empty pages before my eyes, you not deny or criticize
Empty bedrooms where I paid my dues
Watching the ceiling instead of you
Can you tell me where you're goin', can't hold on to hear my song
I've got some songs I'd love to sing
Always bring down some other thing
Where can I go my hands are broken
It seems like your love is just a token, why won't you stay with me?
Up in the morning and out the door
She won't come in I gotta live alone
Back in the evening with the darn poor fool out
I got on mind just this gal, just this gal
song performed by by Grateful Dead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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San Diego
San Diego is just a kiss away
Like a gypsy sitting on the oceans coast
Misty in the morning like a painted lady
She has everything a man could ask for
Just outside the southern border she is waiting there
Dancing in the streets
Smiling
As she wraps herself around you.
The January cold and the holy ghost
Ride along up her California coast past the spirits and towering redwood trees
Where time stands still and the moon sits high for all to see
Beauty so intense she’ll bring a tear to your eye
As you raise your hands and try to touch the sky
Everything around you is clean and wild.
Like a dream catcher hanging in a small saloon
In the back of the bar above the empty bottles and broken jars
You make a wish and pray it makes past this lonely room.
Stars shoot slowly across the high desert skis
As the howls of coyotes sing in the sacrificial night
Their song of survival is a song of life
And rain falls softly on the rocks and into the sand
It’s a song of hope and the freedom to look up
Into the eyes of the holy ghost.
You can feel it on the California coast
So throw your hands into the skis
And dance with the lady of the southern nights
Then take a ride in the January cold with the holy ghost
And pray your wishes make it past this lonely room
Into a dream catcher behind the empty bottles and broken jars
In a road side saloon
It a song of freedom it’s a song hope
On a drive up the California coast
As she wraps herself around you in the January cold.
Godfather.
poem by Jeff Nesvig
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My Own Emptiness
morning
is an empty slate.
i go outside
this room into an open garden
rays of sun arrive
upon leaves soundlessly
mushrooms grow on the sides
of the old narra tree
i imagine i see some
elves
big biga leaves capture
water and on its edges are dews
i am empty like an empty slate of
morning
sunlight cannot
neither dew
nor nymphs of myth
fill it up.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Whispering Waves
By the shore of the sea searching for his memory
Sifting sand through my hand weighing what he means to me
In the early morning haze seagulls seem to cry my pain
And ocean feels it too sighs his name on whispering waves
Wrote his name next to mine big and deep there in the sand
Till the earth tends to flow and our names will be drowned
All the birds sing harmonies to the top line of the breeze
While the ocean breathes his name on whispering waves
Theres a bistro where we would dine each evening
Candle light and california wine
Love is holding hands across the table
I still go past each night
Look for his car outside
At the foot of this cliff we spent days weaving our dreams
Making plans building homes raising kids and coloring scenes
Then one morning he was gone and our story reached an end
But his words still linger on on whispering waves
Aah, ahh, ahh...
By the shore of the sea searching for his memory
Sifting sand through my hand weighing what he means to me
All the birds sing harmonies to the top line of the breeze
While the ocean breathes his name on whispering waves
song performed by by Donna Summer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Go Tell The Drummer Man
Silver drums, rhythms that he hums
Waltzing dogs, that come when he calls
Plans for one he keeps in a coffer
What can I offer, I dont know
Can I bring him love words to sing him
Like some foolish magi
Ill be gone and words in a song
Wont even last till sunrise
Go tell the drummer man
The time glass is out of sand
Ask him to understand
And wait for me, and wait for me
Streets and parks
Waltzes in the dark
Lovers now, when time will allow
An afternoon, the kind to believe in
Why am I leaving? I dont know
Distant places, just empty spaces
Till we are together
What can I bring, time leaves me nothing
I wonder will it ever.
Go tell the drummer man
The time glass is out of sand
Ask him to understand
And wait for me, and wait for me
Silver birds fly away like words
In the wind, and soon Ill be in
Another world
The land of without him
Whats it about, this other world
Go tell the drummer man
The time glass is out of sand
Ask him to understand
And wait for me, and wait for me
song performed by by Joni Mitchell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pity...
I have only pity for my
poodle name Pretpret
(ditty for Pretty)
It is always following me
wherever i go
and sit beside my feet
so i can feel the warmth
of its belly
It is expecting me to go
for a walk this morning
and it will be beside me
guarding
But i am not taking my walk
today
I still have to organize my thoughts
and write some poems
I pity the sun
Now it is shining without me
I pity the paths
for it is empty without me
I pity the grass
they spread their beautiful green
without me
Don't you understand what pity means?
Oh, it happens
when we are not with them
because we prefer to be with words
juggling with the letters
playing with the sounds of syllables...
Now, i am going out
What pity does i feel for all the words?
I must pity the study room
for it is now empty
I must pity the books
they are now closed
I must pity the stairs
missing the sounds of my footsteps
and so on and so forth
feel it
the world is such a pitiful emptiness
without us
we can be noise and disturbance
sometimes
but the world knows
we are important
for without us
the world is nothing too
but God's useless
creation....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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