Ana's Painting, Ephemera
Legs like brush strokes
streak down
over
the wrinkled vista,
sepia crumpled
in its folded ruptures—
feet levitation,
steps left to hover
above where they would sink;
where the imprints lie,
firmly imbedded into the faulty Earth,
a crumbling sheet of petrous land
nestling between what was
before us
and whatever resides
deep in the
recondite shades
of what is beyond.
poem by Tim Stensloff
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Mud
Each step I take,
As I trudge forward
Through the muddy landscape,
Collects my feet:
Pulling me deep toward the Earth,
Rooting me where I stand.
I struggle to free my legs.
They sink where I walk
Until I bury myself.
Time passes and the ground grows firm
While I'm underneath
The dusting fossils,
The stone-etched imprints
That suggest which direction I was going,
And where I had been.
poem by Tim Stensloff
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Shades of night and day
Gray clouds hover over land
Cast in deep shadows
haiku by Dorothy Holmes (19 April 2008)
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Cabin on Loon Lake
INTERIOR kitchen of rustic cabin
in remote region of northern Michigan
wind howling snow swirling visible
through small window at left
Disheveled man sits at makeshift desk
sorting through stacks of paper
Angular woman leans against iron sink
smoking cigarette after cigarette
MAN> You use the checkbook?
Woman looks around room, smiling.
She gestures toward a cabinet against the wall.
WOMAN> There's some Wheaties in the cupboard.
Man looks startled as he rises to his feet
MAN> You know what I'm saying?
Woman stubs out cigarette in a chipped coffee cup.
She fishes out another from the pack in her shirt pocket.
Man comes around desk and hands her a folded sheet.
Woman unfolds paper and studies it.
WOMAN> This is just plain crazy.
Man turns to desk and unrolls a length of blueprint.
He smooths it and points at the center of the sheet.
WOMAN> I like it.
CURTAIN
poem by Michael Pruchnicki
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Just A Fading Twilight Song
Moving with steps of perfection
Mannequins were tall and refined.
They modelled the gowns so gracefully
In days of roses and wine...
Along the catwalk, floating on air,
To the latest romantic beat
In silken dresses and gorgeous furs
Hairstyles simple and neat.
But where are those lovely dancing girls
Where has their spotlight gone
Are they only wrinkled sepia portraits
With a declining twilight song?
poem by Joyce Hemsley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Crumbling Chalk
Beneath the cliffs of crumbling chalk was once a path
where you could walk. The walk would take you down to
the sand where fishing boats would come to land.
Now this crumbling chalk falls into the sea, where once
crabs and lobsters were caught for tea.
No scavenging left in this lonely bay even the gulls
have flown away; they have left the waves and the spray
are they to return another day.
Nets and pots have been swallowed up by the waves and
now their left to sleep in watery graves. A fishing village that was
once a boom has now become an empty tomb.
An oil slick just driffted into the shore and took away the beauty
that it had known before. Crumbling chalk that drops like tears
on the sand that's black made from the oil smears.
There is nothing left to self contain, oh will they no come
back again.
poem by Sylvia Spencer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Charm, The
In darkness the loud sea makes moan;
And earth is shaken, and all evils creep
About her ways.
Oh, now to know you sleep!
Out of the whirling blinding moil, alone,
Out of the slow grim fight,
One thought to wing -- to you, asleep,
In some cool room that's open to the night
Lying half-forward, breathing quietly,
One white hand on the white
Unrumpled sheet, and the ever-moving hair
Quiet and still at length! . . .
Your magic and your beauty and your strength,
Like hills at noon or sunlight on a tree,
Sleeping prevail in earth and air.
In the sweet gloom above the brown and white
Night benedictions hover; and the winds of night
Move gently round the room, and watch you there.
And through the dreadful hours
The trees and waters and the hills have kept
The sacred vigil while you slept,
And lay a way of dew and flowers
Where your feet, your morning feet, shall tread.
And still the darkness ebbs about your bed.
Quiet, and strange, and loving-kind, you sleep.
And holy joy about the earth is shed;
And holiness upon the deep.
poem by Rupert Brooke
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Charm
In darkness the loud sea makes moan;
And earth is shaken, and all evils creep
About her ways.
Oh, now to know you sleep!
Out of the whirling blinding moil, alone,
Out of the slow grim fight,
One thought to wing - to you, asleep,
In some cool room that's open to the night
Lying half-forward, breathing quietly,
One white hand on the white
Unrumpled sheet, and the ever-moving hair
Quiet and still at length! . . .
Your magic and your beauty and your strength,
Like hills at noon or sunlight on a tree,
Sleeping prevail in earth and air.
In the sweet gloom above the brown and white
Night benedictions hover; and the winds of night
Move gently round the room, and watch you there.
And through the dreadful hours
The trees and waters and the hills have kept
The sacred vigil while you slept,
And lay a way of dew and flowers
Where your feet, your morning feet, shall tread.
And still the darkness ebbs about your bed.
Quiet, and strange, and loving-kind, you sleep.
And holy joy about the earth is shed;
And holiness upon the deep.
poem by Rupert Brooke (1909)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
Vote! | Copy!
So What Is Life?
When all that's left is the earth and sea
what then will become of me?
Will I travel beyond in a deep dark sleep
or sink to the very bottom of the deep?
Will my soul take form in another place
and gift me with another face?
I cannot fathom the answer I seek.
But these are inherit- ants of the meek.
So what is life? What can it be?
Surely not just the earth and sea.
And if I find that that's the case,
I shall not vex over the human race.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Tomorrow's Promise
I wanted to write
you an intriguing lyric
that favored
Shakespeare and
Ovid’s erotica
but the desires that be
did not allow my
attempt of nestling metaphors
Indeed, usually the gift
of grand gesture
grants my brush strokes
the most vivid
ink to pour into
riveting colors
for your eyes only
marveling at the distinct
structure and the
deepened detail of each
line
I promise to paint prettier
pictures the next time
my thoughts reminds
me of your face
with delectable smiles
and unforgettable laughter
Tomorrow, I promise...
poem by Jason PraTT
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Left After The Storm
love is the scar
left after the storm....
the light in the window
the falling branch broke,
the ashes drowned by rain
after the fire....
my hand on your breast,
the moment without words,
that hangs on the clock
like the hour never struck.
the sweet whiskey of your lips,
pressed tight, then yielding....
the leaves on the porch,
blown like a stranger to the door....
the box of pictures,
buried in the closet, .....
'neath old coats and goodwill
clothes, folded and wrinkled....
your legs wrapped around
a sudden strike of lightning....
the way you smell....
dressed in sleep!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Earth
the earth bursts
forth in the bloom
in its desire to show itself
a colourful wear
to weave its magic
sends its greeting to the world
this physique that enables
the earth to spring forth
with all its its senses, faculties
speaks in an array of tongues
creates love lines, jealousies, rivalries
earth runs its way through the world
with legs, wings, fins
from every inch in the garden
a new personality bursts forth
through the bloom
through homosapiens
from every patch of land
the earth talks
runs through me
those tiny grains below your feet
that help you stand on your two feet
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Fading
I can hear you calling
Someone understand me.
Someone hold my hand.
Take me; take me from the land of falling shades.
Fading in and out of obscurity
The mystery has misted over
Clouded by the crowds that seem to hover around my lover.
poem by David Lacey
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
4c
one takes the path
(indecisive yet) between
the house of darkness and
the dwelling place of light
in there
between, amidst
the path is winding
as though between two
mountains
breasts, leak,
bleak, break, slit,
betwixt
alive, one walks through
this path between two choices
black
&
white one sometimes compromises
taking
the other colors between
shades of gray
but until when?
ah, when one loses grasp
of air,
crumpled space, crumbling self,
the die must ultimately be cast
where are you?
there is fence out there
and you are
told to jump but where?
footnote
do not choose what you are
choose what is
right.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Paper In The Wind
The night wind searched...
For that illusive scrap--
Of paper penned with-
Your romantic ode;
That you left crumpled...
And thrown carelessly...
In anger...
Earlier in the day--
Of our once love;
When nothing but---
Sunshine once courted us;
But as with all good things...
The night and its oft' unpredictable storms...
Came uninvited;
Never planned for---
The dark and its gales...
Attacking the vunerable of our relationships...
Fragile base...;
Disagreements poured heavily...
As an unending rain...
Alas- destroyed in the night-
Winds of change;
And all that is left--
Is a blown crumpled paper...
Of our once deep love;
poem by Theodora Onken
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
What Are We?
1) Two legs sat upon three legs,
With one leg in his lap;
In comes four legs
And runs away with one leg;
Up jumps two legs,
Catches up three legs,
Throws it after four legs,
And makes him dropp one leg.
What are we?
2) Old Mother Twitchett had but one eye,
And a long tail which she let fly;
And every time she went over a gap,
She left a bit of her tail in a trap.
3) Thirty white horses upon a red hill,
Now they tramp, now they champ, now they stand still.
What are we?
We have nothing to say today
We are being asked
What are we
And we think we are bullied
Because
Because we think we know what we are
Because we think we are the obvious
Plain like blue clouds, blue seas, blue kingfishers
Blue, blues, blue bruises, blue flag,
Blue crayon, blue surplus cars
Electric blue, shades of blue
We are black and blue
We feel blue
We think blue
We are blue.
And the obvious is like the biggest mountain ahead of us
And they ask: what is that?
And they see us
And ask us what are we?
Aren’t they all crazy?
We respect them and tell them nothing.
we have nothing to say forevermore.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Poet Recondite
With one stroke he can make
With one knock he can break
With one spill of his ink
He can wake the world up
But flying is his mind in the skies
At the bays of the heaven fictional
Unmindful of his legs in the earth
So well rooted one foot up to knees
He’s a poet recondite unmindful
Of his social duties
What a waste is talent that serves not
Populace that is grinding in grief
My advice to fellow poet greats
You better ask your pen what it prefers
Its purpose; if I’m right
It tells straight,
To invest on this earth its finest letter wealth
But it sulks, if at all
Better break its nib-neck
poem by Sathya Narayana
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A man who has both feet planted firmly in the air can be safely called a liberal as opposed to the conservative, who has both feet firmly planted in his mouth.
quote by Jacques Barzun
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Lipstick
She leaned over the sink
her weight on her toes
and applied lipstick
in quick certain strokes
the way a man signs
his hundredth autograph
of the morning.
She tested a convictionless smile
as the lipstick retracted
like a red eel.
All day she left her mark
on everything she kissed,
even the air,
like intoxicating news
whispered from ear to ear:
He left it all to me.
poem by Connie Wanek
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Intended for One who Dares to Be Independent...
then you tried to stand
on your own feet
we observe you as you begin
to lift your body
your hands pushing this whole weight
upwards
(looking for the miracles that the
skies could possibly give?
ah, there is none
not even a streak of light
to give you energy
the moon is not there yet
and the sun just sink to the
dark horizon)
you failed again
your feet as fragile as your mind
are short of strength
in the same manner that your
brain failed to process
the logical consequences of
a premature
independence
you are crying
tears as big as corn grits
fall to the mocking earth
we are watching you closely
we pity you
yet we must be strong to let you
know that pain and survival
are twins
we evaded that final scene
when you lay prostrate to
the ground
as you begin to curse
the earth
that now and forever
never really minds
as to who dies
who lives
who conquers
who perishes to the
layers of
this universe
you see, this is an indifferent world
who tells you
man you are free
and now you are on your own
like an eggshell
from its yolk
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Farm's Diary In Winter
In the frozen life of this farm
animals dwell in the golden hay
flowers sprout in fields like Siberian
clouds float as summer ducks on a lake
time flows as an under water ice cavern
snow drops as if leaves in fall
hoofs of deer feet sink as snow descends
stew boils as fire ruptures beneath the kettle
the snow covers the road as if it was a bed
sunlight spreads over the snow as it arise
poem by Montel Maggitt
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!