Tangerine Morn
The sky 'twas tangerine this morn'
With an eccentric mauve overtone
Spilling o'er the arbored countryside
Across the gardens stepping stones;
The trees all limber and dressed for April
Chiseled in the backdropp O'this pastel space
Flowers e'er shimmering with life-echoed-
Surely, this 'tis Springtimes longed for face;
poem by Theodora Onken
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Related quotes
Tangerine
Tangerine, turning green
Cellophane, window pane
Socialise, paralysed
Plastic faces suck me dry, tangerine, tangerine, tangerine, tangerine
Chorus:i know its sad, lifes just a piece of fruit
Touch down, new ground
Stop living on the moon - (repeat chorus)
Twenty eight, suffocate
Take a ride, see me fly
Detonate, feel it break
See myself disintegrate, tangerine, tangerine, tangerine, tangerine
(chorus)
See it as I climb, the rain burns in my eyes
So catch me as I fall away, tangerine, tangerine, tangerine, tangerine
(chorus)
I know its sad...
song performed by by Feeder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Queen's Flowers
During the month of April
Tree after tree in full bloom;
Mauve flowers, pushing out in plenty,
With copper pod yellow flowers on top
Here and there - taller, larger trees.
A solitary bread-tree flaunts its pretty leaves,
Bunch of bell-tree flowers intruding through;
Nearby a frangipani tree with white-streaked red flowers
Bougainvillae and railway creepers on the fence
Along the pavement where I walk.
Line, color, motion, light and shade
Thrill me: what my eyes see each moment
Constitute a better painting than
Any of the greatest of Masters.
Alas, it is evanescent!
13th April 2007
Bandra-Kurla.
poem by Daniel Trevelyn Joseph
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Im Stepping Out
Woke up this morning blues around my head
No need to ask the reason why
Went to the kitchen and lit a cigarette
Blew my worries to the sky
Im stepping out
Im stepping out
Im stepping out
Im stepping out
If it dont feel right you dont have to do it
Just leave a message on the phone and tell them to screw it
After all is said and done you cant go pleasin everyone
So screw it...
Im stepping out
Im stepping out
Im stepping out baby
Im stepping out
Babys sleeping the cats have all been blessed
Aint nothing doing on tv (summer repeats)
Put on my space suit I got to look my best
Im going out to do the city
Im stepping out
Im stepping out
Im stepping out babe
Im stepping out (boogie)
Im stepping out (hold it down)
Im stepping out
Im stepping out
Gotta gotta gotta gotta get out
Im stepping out babe
Just awhile
Aint been out for days...
song performed by by Lennon John
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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April's Away.
All too soon the countryside,
Now fresh greened and sprouting more
Than spring, looks out for wider
Room, shakes it's newborn blossoms
Then ushers April to the door.
And April's away.
No longer teenage, Flora's
Grown maturer now, slightly
Deeper hued, flowers adorning
Every late spring bough, while
April, already pale, turns white,
Then April's away.
Heated by more ardent sun,
Hedgerows must have stronger feed.
Palid from work early done
April leaves, - makes way for May
To ensure Flora has her needs
Now April's away.
On Seeing Little Lorikeets
They looked like African lovebirds that I see
On trees near Dimboola in the Vic Mallee
But then I told myself this cannot be
As African lovebirds in Australia don't live free.
Lit by a shaft of bright April sun shine
On pleasant evening in middle Autumn time
Small green feathered Parrots with red faces and dark bills
On eucalyptus branches uttered high pitched trills.
It took me back to photograph I'd seen
Of litle red faced parrots dressed in green
That fly from tree to tree in daylight hours
In search of fruit and eucalyptus flowers.
And 'twas then I realized that I had come to meet
The smallest of the lories little lorikeets
Near Dimboola Town on small roadside Parkway
On eucalyptus trees on sunlit April day.
poem by Francis Duggan
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April on the Battlefields
April now walks the fields again,
Trailing her tearful leaves
And holding all her frightened buds against her heart:
Wrapt in her clouds and mists,
She walks,
Groping her way among the graves of men.
The green of earth is differently green,
A dreadful knowledge trembles in the grass,
And little wide-eyed flowers die too soon:
There is a stillness here --
After a terror of all raving sounds --
And birds sit close for comfort upon the boughs
Of broken trees.
April, thou grief!
What of thy sun and glad, high wind,
Thy valiant hills and woods and eager brooks,
Thy thousand-petalled hopes?
The sky forbids thee sorrow, April!
And yet --
I see thee walking listlessly
Across those scars that once were joyous sod,
Those graves,
Those stepping-stones from life to life.
Death is an interruption between two heart-beats,
That I know --
Yet know not how I know --
But April mourns,
Trailing her tender green,
The passion of her green,
Across the passion of those fearful fields.
Yes, all the fields!
No barrier here,
No challenge in the night,
No stranger-land;
She passes with her perfect countersign,
Her green;
She wanders in her mournful garden,
Dropping her buds like tears,
Spreading her lovely grief upon the graves of man.
poem by Leonora Speyer
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April, Dear April
April, dear April, I beg you come soon –
And bring your sweet primroses too.
Let them join in with the daffodils’ play,
As skies offer sunshine anew.
April, dear April, my blessed spring child,
Ornate in your yellow and white,
Teasing the birds into trilling their songs
And dancing to music of flight.
April, dear April, come enter my dreams
And rid me from cold winter chills.
Banish the rain and those blustery winds
And warm up our countryside hills.
April, dear April, I know you can’t stay -
You have to move on ‘till next year.
And though I shall cherish the glory of summer,
You’ll always be my month most dear.
From: Succumbed to Thinking by Mark Raymond Slaughter, lulu.com
Copyright © Mark Raymond Slaughter 2009
All rights reserved
April April April April
April April April April
April April April April
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Sometimes
Sometimes
I wish
I had been born
a wild cyclamen
of mauve and green
in a calm
shady wood
of trees and flowers
and there my life
would unwind
unseen.
poem by Vince Gullaci
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Autumn Crocuses
The meadow is poisonous but pretty in the autumn
The cows that graze there are slowly poisoned
Meadow-saffron the colour of lilac and of shadows
Under the eyes grows there your eyes are like those flowers
Mauve as their shadows and mauve as this autumn
And for your eyes' sake my life is slowly poisoned
Children from school come with their commotion
Dressed in smocks and playing the mouth-organ
Picking autumn crocuses which are like their mothers
Daughters of their daughters and the colour of your eyelids
Which flutter like flowers in the mad breeze blown
The cowherd sings softly to himself all alone
While slow moving lowing the cows leave behind them
Forever this great meadow ill flowered by autumn
poem by Guillaume Apollinaire
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Hidden Valley Within The Bush
stepping into these lost ruins of gardens
a few fruit trees and flowers endure
where the old ghost homestead has fallen
lost in time decay life memories gone
who lived here where did their lives sped go
did their children move away to distant town
or city leaving this valley in serene dusk beauty
deer slip through bush to feed in still eternity
poem by Terence George Craddock
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April
April is a cruel time
Even though the sun may shine
And world looks in the shade as it slowly comes away
Still falls the april rain
And the valleys filled with pain
And you cant tell me quite why
As I look up to the grey sky
Where it should be blue
Grey sky where I should see you
Ask why, why it should be so
Ill cry, say that I dont know
Maybe once in a while Ill forget and Ill smile
But then the feeling comes again of an april without end
Of an april lonely as they come
In the dark of my mind I can see all too fine
But there is nothing to be done when I just cant feel the sun
And the springtimes the season of the night
Grey sky where it should be blue
Grey sky where I should see you
Ask why, why it should be so
Ill cry, say that I dont know
I dont know
song performed by by Deep Purple
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Spaces
Space
No center, no above, no below
Ceaselessly devouring and engendering itself
Whirlpool space
And drop into height
Spaces
Clarities steeply cut
Suspended
By the night's flank
Black gardens of rock crystal
Flowering on a rod of smoke
White gardens exploding in the air
Space
One space opening up
Corolla
And dissolving
Space in space
All is nowhere
Place of impalpable nuptials
poem by Octavio Paz
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Who Killed Tangerine?
Whatcha gonna choose the poison or the lines
Lived with crazy pain in all your life
Something in your mind just tells you no
Hope in conversation starts to flow
Stuck inside a wheel, inside a wheel
Wondering everyday is it all for real
Blinking every time a cold wind blow
Our love don't fill a mile in rose
Danger remains
Watcha gonna do when the old man reads you dry
Step down from the plane and pluck the eye
Slide in deeper closer to the bone
Don't you just wish your heart was made of stone?
Waxing like an old crack 45
Counting out the ways you could stay alive
Placing all the banks and feel the stones
My love won't leave her ways of foam
And when you think it's all over
It's not over, it's not over
And when you think it's all over
It's not over, it's not over
And when you think it's all over
It's not over, it's not over
Who killed tangerine?
The prettiest girl I've ever seen
Who killed tangerine?
Who killed tangerine?
The prettiest girl I've ever seen
Who killed tangerine?
And when you think it's all over
It's not over, it's not over
And when you think it's all over
It's not over, it's not over
And when you think it's all over
It's not over, it's not over
song performed by by Tears For Fears
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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April Day
An April Day.
I remember a spring breeze
Followed a track,
Only visible from space.
Found a tiny horse shoe
Hung it on my wall.
The breeze caressed
My tired face and thought
This moment I must cherish.
Greening trees and flowers
Undiscovered.
How lucky to have seen this.
My solitude was not in vain.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Mauve Trouser Suit
Yesterday while driving home
I saw a woman wearing
a mauve trouser suit.
Instantly my memories kicked in
taking me back forty year or more
when I was in love with a girl
who always wore a mauve trouser suit.
I could see her standing there
her blonde hair rippling over her shoulders
and her big blue eyes looking passed me
at someone who wasn’t there.
She was never mine to be,
but for a few moments while driving home,
she was there in her mauve trouser suit
standing in front of me.
17 April 2009
poem by David Harris
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A Year in Haiku
JANUARY
Delightful display
Of snowdrops bowing white heads
To the sun’s glory.
FEBRUARY
Green buds now appear
Indicating spring will soon
Energise us all.
MARCH
Lambs gambol in fields
Frisky with the joys of life
Bleating happily.
APRIL
Bluebells standing proud
Beneath trees now sparsely dressed
With freshest green leaves.
MAY
Much awaited sound
Echoes through forest and copse -
Cuckoo’s arrival.
JUNE
Parks and gardens burst
With sounds and vibrant colours
Perfect harmony.
JULY
Beaches become full
Of families having fun
In sand and big waves.
AUGUST
Ripe golden harvest
Burning sun in azure skies
Labours rewarded.
SEPTEMBER
Swallows congregate
On telephone wires ready
To migrate down south.
OCTOBER
Red and gold leaves fall,
Crunchy as cornflakes beneath
Feet on a crisp morn.
NOVEMBER
Frosty webs sparkle
In the early morning sun
Brightly bejewelled.
DECEMBER
First few flakes of snow
Dust gardens like icing on
A chocolate cake.
poem by Paul Holmes
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Days of April
O, my days of April, I've pined for you so long
And waited to see your gardens return where they belong
O, my days of April, which find me with a fellow
Do you see my new smile outglowing daffodills yellow?
O, my days of April, you leave me sleepless in your splendor
You find me beneath the shaded trees in his arms tender
Marveling beneath the orange sunlight that covers the grassy hills
Feeling the blissful breeze travel where it wills
O, my days of April, his voice hums like your honey bees
It often sends my heart on happy little sprees
And as we swim through the land of lavender seas
I thank you for the days you bring such as these
O, my days of April, he smells like your fresh rain
That waters the mowed grass in the thirsty plains
His eyes shine like the diamonds you leave on the blades
I hold them to my memory to escape December days
O, my days of April, remember you'll live forevermore
Your cloudless days and golden rays always will knock at May's door
And your flowers will bloom so high they almost reach the gables
But remember us, remember us, my sweet days of April
poem by Whitney Albright
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Dressed At The Quarry
Tell her that you are her father and,
Let her turn to the muse of your love;
And like the stones dressed at the quarry,
For this day is now set out before you.
Supporting beams,
Against the walls of your love i will rest;
For i have slits of light of love on you,
And like the stones dressed at the quarry.
Your love is under my construction and,
It will be dressed up like the stones from a quarry;
So spread out your wings of love over me and,
And let me lead you to my home.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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April
April is eternal spring.
She sows the mirth for everything.
Her smiling sun and soothing showers
Create May’s ebullient flowers.
April assuages winter’s noose,
As snow and cold call annual truce.
Warmth and laughter then fill the air,
Replacing a somber season’s stare.
The year without April’s place,
Indeed would be a sterile space.
So thank you April for being here.
Your presence assures a happy year.
poem by Gregory Huyette
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~April Fool~
April flipped herself in
Like a brand new paragraph
For i'd left off in March
And winter 'twas still the subject matter
The frost all but got me
Hypothermia of feelings
Once felt
Like coming into a heated June
My feelings they began to melt
But April flipped me in
Much like an April Fool
Vunerable and needy
Forgetful of what i had
Learned in school
And so another paragraph
Was formed
Along with the rain you did bring
Remind me-Mother Earth-
If you will
That not all flowers bloom
In the Spring
Aware that the showers
Are supposed to bring
Some Flowers that bloom in May
But ne'er prepared for
Story-tellers with eloquent words
That ne'er mean what they say
The flowers that later bloom
With brillance-aroma and Light
Take out the chill and hold on me still
During a most troubling dark of night
poem by Theodora Onken
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