A crisp leaf dances ballet
Toe down upon the Earths brown mulch
A lively piroette dazzling golden
haiku by Theodora Onken
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The Brown Leaf Along The Road Near The River
it a brown leaf.
it falls from a tall tree
and slowly it stops
at the bottom of the
road in Bankerohan...
it is a sunny day
for a week and the brown leaf
stays there
for there is no wind...
a beautiful maiden
picks it up one day... so crisp...
it crumples in her very own
hand...
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Early Falling Leaves
Autumn is not technically here
But it has arrived nonetheless
With brown crisp maple leaves and their
Imagined conspicuousness.
Each with its own conformation:
Some taking forms of tortoises
As they swirled downward in the sun;
Others twirled like ballerinas
In a sleeping beauty ballet.
Most fell unassumingly down
Nevertheless, quite a display
For a mere poet on the ground
This Sunday morning unrehearsed
Depicted in a poets verse.
poem by Albert Ahearn
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Visit Malaysia Year Poem - Cameron Highlands Boh Tea - A Lady Rolling in Pink (State of Pahang)
refreshing dawn mist, crisp air
and sunshine tiptoe through tender lips,
shower their warmth over a secluded valley
where a lady rolling in pink dances
then rushes to a a meaningful rendevouz
with the benecfactor of passions
dawn mist, crisp air, sunshine and
mountain loam rolled up in tender
brown and now unveiled through
spring water, they are the simple joy
that raises the morning sun up my sky
i dont need that many readers,
just a few who care to weigh every word
to savour its intrinsic value
they too are my tea that elevates
the morning sun up my sky
(inspired after a visit to the premier highlands destination in Malaysia the Cameron Highlands, a place famous for its Boh Tea)
the sun up my sky
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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It's no good running a pig farm badly for 30 years while saying, 'Really, I was meant to be a ballet dancer.' By then, pigs will be your style.
quote by Quentin Crisp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Adonis
1.
Each of us like you
has died once,
has passed through drift of wood-leaves,
cracked and bent
and tortured and unbent
in the winter-frost,
the burnt into gold points,
lighted afresh,
crisp amber, scales of gold-leaf,
gold turned and re-welded
in the sun;
each of us like you
has died once,
each of us has crossed an old wood-path
and found the winter-leaves
so golden in the sun-fire
that even the live wood-flowers
were dark.
2.
Not the gold on the temple-front
where you stand
is as gold as this,
not the gold that fastens your sandals,
nor thee gold reft
through your chiselled locks,
is as gold as this last year's leaf,
not all the gold hammered and wrought
and beaten
on your lover's face.
brow and bare breast
is as golden as this:
each of us like you
has died once,
each of us like you
stands apart, like you
fit to be worshipped.
poem by Hilda Doolittle
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A friendship can weather most things and thrive in thin soil but it needs a little mulch of letters and phone calls and small, silly presents every so often - just to save it from drying out completely.
quote by Pam Brown
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A friendship can weather most things and thrive in thin soil; but it needs a little mulch of letters and phone calls and small, silly presents every so often - just to save it from drying out completely.
Rain Dances
When rain dances steps of silver
In unseen ballet shoes
Hazy sunshine lights the fuse
Of waiting Autumn hues.
As darkness snares us sooner
The light is strictly lunar
yet I see you burning bright
By window in candlelight.
As Summers' body changes
Morning mist arranges
Orchards to explode
In colour with sweetest scent
Where lonely traveller rode
And rain dances came and went.
Yes, the season still remains
When August hands the reins
To the grower of the grains
To welcome harvest for his pains.
We all reap what was sown
What you give is what you own
As rain dances on alone.
poem by Kevin East
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Sea Rose
Rose, harsh rose,
marred and with stint of petals,
meagre flower, thin,
sparse of leaf,
more precious
than a wet rose
single on a stem --
you are caught in the drift.
Stunted, with small leaf,
you are flung on the sand,
you are lifted
in the crisp sand
that drives in the wind.
Can the spice-rose
drip such acrid fragrance
hardened in a leaf?
poem by Hilda Doolittle
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Turning A New Leaf
Dragged up, raised tough
Born a mistake
Learned fast the golden rule
Never give, just take
Did no favors, gave no quarter
You all know the story bout
The lambs broadway slaughter.
Turning a new leaf
Turning a new leaf
Turning a new leaf
Street wise, cats eyes
Showbusiness smile
Lookin for todays mark
On the golden mile
Book wise, movie eyed
So cool dudes.
Aint gonna do no talking
When they find out they been used.
Turning a new leaf
Turning a new leaf
Turning a new leaf
Got to make some time
Go through the changes
My whole life needs some rearrangin
Self styled reject
Ambitious wisher
Also ran life style
Guaranteed user, like a,
Campaign promise from a three time loser
Got to make my move soon
Because, beggars cant be choosers,
So im,
Turning a new leaf
Turning a new leaf
Turning a new leaf
(mccafferty, cleminson, charlton, agnew, sweet)
(copyright 1980 nazsongs ltd.)
All rights reserved.
Lyrics used by permission only.reproduction prohibited.
Copyright 1980 a&m records, inc.
song performed by by Nazareth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Autumn Kissed
The brillant orange, it billows-
The tawdry burnt, to brown-
The air 'tis filled with aroma of chestnuts-
And Mesquite wood, fills the breeze, in our town!
'Tis a brillant, crisp, Metamorphis-
As a catapillar to: The Monarch, Butterfly-
It reminds me, of this change, in season-
With the Golden and Dark leaves, blowing in the sky-
poem by Theodora Onken
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Limbo Leaf
Mr.Leaf, Lays still on the
Misty Soil has
A story to narrate
A song to sing
A poem to recite
Of the plants, of the trees
Of the herbs and
Of the shrubs...
Mr.Leaf began...
Past went apart; Leaving me alone
Present presented tears; For me to wipe out
Future away from nature; To turn me to a corpse
Tear droplets sat on leaf
Which appeared alike dewdrops
The half dead leaf sheds tears
Yes! A pinch of life
Stays awake
In this pale & yellow leaf
Striving to say more
Mr.Leaf realised: -
Time to leave the plant
Time to accompany the land
Time to dissolve in the soil
It flew away
With the rythm of the wind
Dancing & dazzling
To the blacky-rocky land
There it lies cold & still
Waiting to be vanished
Down the soil pores.
poem by Mariya M. Jos
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Little Dancing Girl With A Black Hair
the little dancing girl
has a long black hair
with twin dimples
on her mabolo cheeks
she dances in the air
she dances in the water
in the hills, in the clouds
at night, in vast space
she dances in my dreams
when i am sober
when i am drunk
when i am engrossed
in something else
she is the brown little girl
with a long black hair
the dancing girl like a
whirlpool in my mind
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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bloodline ***** LYRIC TO MY BRO AND HIS GUITAR
Strum ….
Strum the strings
Of your brown guitar
Brings with me
To the music star
Lively as you are
Far in the awful nights
In the hour of silence
Plays me a song
With ease and delight
Plays no more
A sad song
Let the people hear
A refrain
Of imperial tune
Strum….
Strum the strings
Of your brown guitar
Brings the world
To the music star
Lively as you are
poem by Rommel Mark Dominguez Marchan
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A Lyric to My Son and His Guitar
A Lyric To My Son and His Guitar
strum...
Strum the strings of your brown guitar;
Brings me to the music star lively as you are.
Far in the awful nights in an hour of silence
Plays me a song with ease and delight.
Plays no more a sad song,
Let the people hear only a refrain;
Of the imperial tune.
Strum...
Strum the strings of your brown guitar
Brings the world to the music star lively as you are...
poem by Elvira Marchan
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Sunny Afternoon
A branch rocks me in the deep blue.
In the frolicking, autumnal leaf-tangle
Moths flicker, intoxicated and crazy.
Ax blows resound in the floodplain.
My mouth bites into red berries
And light and shadows sway in the foliage.
For hours golden dust falls
Crackling in the brown ground.
The thrush laughs from the bushes
And frolicking and loudly the autumnal leaf-tangle
Strikes together above me -
Fruits detach bright and heavy.
poem by Georg Trakl
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Settled in Nettles
I remember climbing nettles-
Nettles climbing our wooden fence,
The excitement of touching,
The thrill of the blisters-
The red and the oozing
Beneath my long sleeves.
I remember nettle necklaces
Burning the fingers that linked
The green leaves- big green leaf
To big green leaf- How
My neck had red blotches
Itchy and sore. I scratched
And then bled and then wore fluffy scarves.
I remember Justin Whiles
Who scrunched up his face and bit
On his lip and tied me with rope
And dragged the green nettles
Over my skin and asked, 'Why
Did we do this again? '
And now in my cabinets are nettles
In jars- jar after jar- big glass
Jars, brimming with nettles,
Their thick green leaves.
And sometimes the night
Gets quiet and cold
And I walk to my cabinets
And pull down the jars
And pull out the nettles
And bite on the leaves
And bite and then chew
And then swallow the leaves-
Leaf after leaf-
Jar after jar-
Till the night's not so silent.
Till I throw up green mulch
In my hands.
poem by Alicia Adams
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Fall In The Aır
Oh how I can smell
The fall in the air
The droplets of dew
Covering everywhere
The cool crisp breeze
Caressing my face
Soon to be replaced
By winter freezing embrace
So I'll go out and enjoy
One of natures greatest gifts
An harvest moon
Casting it's spell
With such grace
Lighting the night sky
So all my see
All the earths beauty
When nothing is usually seen
Oh how I wish
The fall would could last forever
But I know it won't
So make it my heaven
poem by David Kush
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I went away when I was 9 to a ballet school. I thought I wanted to be a dancer, but eight years of ballet cured me of that.
quote by Juliet Mills
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dryads
When meadows are grey with the morn
In the dusk of the woods it is night:
The oak and the birch and the pine
War with the glimmer of light.
Dryads brown as the leaf
Move in the gloom of the glade;
When meadows are grey with the morn
Dim night in the wood has delayed.
The cocks that crow to the land
Are faint and hollow and shrill:
Dryads brown as the leaf
Whisper, and hide, and are still.
poem by Siegfried Sassoon
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