Frogs
What does friend mean to you?
A word so wrongfully abused
Are you like me, confused
All included but you
Alone...
The sounds of silence often soothe
Shapes and colors shift with mood
Pupils widen and change their hue
Rapid brown avoid clear blue
Whys it have to be this way
Be this way
Flowers watched through wide brown eyes
A child sings an unclaimed tune
Innocence spins cold cocoon
Grow to see the pain too soon
song performed by by Alice In Chains
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sounds
What are the sounds we love to hear,
the sounds that bring us joy?
They are all the sounds we've listened to,
sounds that don't destroy
how you feel or how you react
when they reach your ear.
They touch a certain part of you
that sometimes brings a tear
of joy.
A child's laughter so innocent and pure,
a rolling wave down at the shore,
a sound of comfort from a spoken word,
a sound of wind chimes in the air,
a sound of silence while in prayer,
a sound of white noise when you sleep,
a sound of joyful tears you weep.
These sounds and many, many more
can change a person's mood.
They soothe your body and your mind
so nothing can intrude
upon your joy.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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A Brown Study
LET them sing of their primrose and cowslip,
Their daffodil-gold-coloured hair,
Their bluebells, blue eyes, and white violets,
All the pale dreamy things they find fair;
Give me stir of brown leaves in the sunshine,
The whir of brown wings through the wheat,
The rush of brown hares through the clover,
And the light in brown eyes of my sweet!
Gold hair? Well, I never could love it,
Yet gold, I suppose, has its worth;
The head that I love is as dusky
As the breast of our mother, the earth;
With a gleam like the shine of wet seaweed,
Round pools that the tide has left clear,
And warm like the breast of a linnet,
And as brown, is the hair of my dear.
From the edge of the cliff we look downwards
On the shore, and the bay, and the town,
And brown is the short turf we lean on,
The fishing-boats' sails are all brown:
The sky may be blue--that's the background,--
But the picture itself, to be fair,
However it's shaded and varied,
Should be brown as the dress that you wear.
A lark bursts to sudden sweet singing--
That tuft of brown grass is his home--
And now, a brown speck, he is rising
Against the clear windy sky-dome;
And he sings--how I know? Love instructs me
To know all his notes, what they mean--
That it isn't the colour I care for,
But yourself, oh, my gipsy, my queen!
Ah! the lark knows my heart--I his language;
It's my heart he sings out to the skies;
It is you that I love, and what matter
The colour of hair or of eyes?
No doubt I should love you as dearly
Were your hair like an apricot's down,
And your eyes like the grey of the morning;
But I'm glad, all the same, that they're brown.
poem by Edith Nesbit
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In The Wide Brown Country
To the wide brown country the Seasons come and go
South in South Australia where the Murray flow
Through the wide brown country where the brown dust fly
When the gales are rushing down the southern sky.
In the wide brown country woods not there to see
Where the mighty Murray crawls on towards the sea
Through the bone dry paddocks that are never green
Mother Nature in this landscape in her brown only seen.
Where the black tribes fished and hunted centuries ago
Little of their culture others seem to know
Through the wide brown country they travelled far and wide
And theirs was a great culture but their culture with them died.
In the wide brown country wildering flowers are rare
And the sun parched paddocks always looking bare
And where only the hardiest can hope to survive
Emu, wombat and wallaby and grey roo seem to thrive.
In the wide brown country where the Murray flow
Onwards towards the ocean onwards ever slow
And the grass is growing brown even where the rains have been
In that brown old country that man has failed to green.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Gathering of the Brown-Eyed
The brown eyes came from Asia, where all mystery is true,
Ere the masters of Soul Secrets dreamed of hazel, grey, and blue;
And the Brown Eyes came to Egypt, which is called the gypsies’ home,
And the Brown Eyes went from Egypt and Jerusalem to Rome.
There was strife amongst the Brown Eyes for the false things and the true;
There was war amongst the Brown Eyes for the old gods and the new;
But the old gods live for ever, and their goddesses are bright
In the temples of Old Passions with the Brown Eyes of the White.
The Brown Eyes east, by Africa, they saw and conquered Spain,
And the Brown Eyes marched as Christians till a Brown Eye met a Dane,
The Dane had Brown-Eyed children who in blue eyes took delight—
And a son of blue-eyed sailors, brown-eyed, reads the stars to-night.
Oh, Knowledge from Old Deserts, where the great stars rocked the world!
Oh, courage from grim seaboards, where the Viking ships were hurled!
The clear skin of the Norseman, and the desert strength and sight,
The power to fathom mankind, and the glorious gift to write!
We can look in souls of women, aye! and let them know we do;
We can fix the false eyes earthward; we can meet and match the true;
We can startle Voice from Silence, and from Darkness flash the Light—
And the eyes to fathom Asia are the Brown Eyes of the White.
There’s a legend in the nations that all Brown Eyes once were true,
But were taught in love and warfare by the sinful shades of blue;
There’s a story amongst sinners that all Brown Eyes once were kind,
Till the Steel-Blue struck the Red-Fire in a hatred that was blind.
But the Brown Eyes are the saddest at the death of Love and Truth.
And the Brown Eyes are the grandest and the dreamiest of Youth.
They have risen in rebellion unto leadership sublime—
And the grey-eyed queens of women loved, and love them for all time!
Brown Eyes never married Brown Eyes but unhappiness held sway,
For the real mates of the Brown Eyes have for ever been the grey.
But though Brown Eyes quarrel hotly, though their very souls be wrenched,
Never Blue-Eye wronged a Brown-Eye but the Brown-Eye was avenged!
Through the breadth of wide Australia, waiting desert-like and vast,
We have sent our Brown-Eyed children, who are multiplying fast.
Patriots, picture-writers, sages, fill the Brown-Eyed rolls to-night—
’Tis the gathering from all ages of the Brown-Eyed of the White.
poem by Henry Lawson
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Brown Baby
Oscar brown jr
Brown baby brown baby
As you grow up I want you to drink from the plenty cup
I want you to stand up tall and proud
And I want you to speak up clear and loud
Brown baby brown baby brown baby
As years go by I want you to go with your head up high
I want you to live by the justice code
And I want you to walk down freedoms road
You little brown baby
So lie away lie away spleeping lie away singing
Lie away sleeping lie away safe in my arms
Till your daddy and you mama protect you
? nd keep you safe from harm
Brown baby
It makes me glad you gonna have things that I never had
When out of mens heart all hate is hurled
Sweetie you gonna live in a better world
Brown baby brown baby brown baby
song performed by by Nina Simone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Color
Children don't see color in a human face.
All that they see is the human race.
Little child of brown
come let's swing around.
Little child of black
let's play piggy-back.
Little child of white
let's go fly a kite.
Little child of yellow
come share my marshmallow.
When you get all grown up,
I hope that you won; t change.
Can you remember all the fun
when our faces were not strange?
Innocence is fleeting.
All too soon it's lost.
Now we notice colors
and look what it has cost.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Blue, Brown and Gold
Blue, brown and gold, bold, I'll unfold
a portrait drawn upon a train
one summer morn which shall remain
for heart to hold if truth be told.
Brown, gold and blue she sat, smiled too,
to me it seemed true beauty gleamed, -
my spirit teemed with hopes that, teamed,
we'd share love through fair seasons new.
Blue, gold and brown without a frown
she journeyed on, too soon was gone, -
yet still upon my soul she shone.
Brown bag, blue gown, - Life's golden crown!
Blue, brown and gold, cannot grow [c]old
Year in year out their tale is told...
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Oh! Lisa With These Lovely Eyes
Lisa with the dark brown eyes
So please tell my soul to sympathize,
We shall cry forever in overcast skies
Lisa with the dark brown eyes,
Lisa with the dark brown eyes
Heartbroken heart spoken, not taken back
To change a mind so is lifes dream
Lisa with the dark brown eyed
Lisa with the dark brown eyes
That blends your butter scotch face insight
Smiles which brings sparkles to my mind
Lisa with the dark brown eyes
Lisa with the dark brown eyes
Many pre thoughts of your strays hypnotize
French, African, English culture dies
Lisa with the dark brown eyes
Lisa with the dark brown eyes
She dabbles her life in fiction trash
her soul with curious follies
Lisa with the dark brown eyes
Lisa with the dark brown eyes
Loneliness, has come far a sad. sad day
Emptiness in your mind and heart pay
Lisa with the dark brown eyes
Lisa with the dark, dark, brown eyes
You walk the world in beauty forgotten
They speak about you something forbidden
Lisa with the dark, dark, brown eyes
Lisa with the dark, dark, brown eyes
Your body your mind so whole same so
Your gave birth and I wish I could understand, understand
Lisa with the dark dark raven eyes
Lisa with the dark dark brown eyes
Curiosity is so special time flies, my sighs
Persuaded a fool to be wise, so wise how wise
Lisa with the dark dark brown eyes.
poem by Klayne Mario Burton
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Connect to Nature
White hair
Blue eyes
White clouds
Blue skies
Pink hair
Brown shirt
Pink flowers
Brown dirt
So many ways to connect to nature
Let's fix ourselves; change our future
poem by Gwenevere Cornwell
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Damn Dark Brown Eyes
Let me start with one corner
The other corner is wide
In between there’s whole world
The truth, the lies and the skies
The mountains high and blue sky
I can see it all through the reflection of light
The beauties of it describes
What’s the world with a smile that’s so bright
Oh! Your damn dark brown eyes
Tells the story of your innocence with no surprise
The whole world is beautiful if I look through those eyes
You have lovely damn dark brown eyes
The darkest small round thing in between your eyes
Rotates around as you don’t keep watching tight
Then those dark brown things which covers your eyes
Feels like a ocean with a deep divine
Whenever I stare at your damn dark brown eyes
I feel to get more and more inside
The ocean looks so deep and waves so strong
And all those pixels describes that you have something inside
Oh! Your damn dark brown eyes
Makes me feel to swim inside
Yes, I am floating in my imagination
How would be the ocean inside your eyes
When you smile, I can feel it from your eyes
It tells everything that I desire to find
It makes you lovely as lovely as you are always with a smile
Cause you’ve got that damn dark brown eyes.
poem by Rajib Paudyal
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A Wonderful Painting
A Wonderful Painting
by Alex Lewis
I remember before my mother's art
When I was but an egg.
The painting took color in every part.
One shade is but a leg.
The lavish blues spread across the page like a waving, smiling sea.
The canvas was plain and bare, except the blues, happily set free.
With the blue, I went to play as childish as I may.
The one clam and I sat with ourselves on the whaling bay.
This is me, like a leaf, on my first day at green.
So, all the others spoke; I found that none were mean.
There were dark greens, light ones, and one stuck in the middle.
After math, my friend and I learnt to play the fiddle.
My friend and I continued to play our little tune.
We soon fell in pink to which neither one was immune.
Our pink grew and grew as each day had passed.
Green had ended blue; only pink would last.
We took our pink and ran right through to angry, waiting brown.
Brown was angry for making him wait with a black-white frown.
We explained that blue made us wait for an azure set of eighteen.
He forgave us. My friend, brown, pink, and I live for only one team.
We decided to get the canvas and add a dash of white.
Pink was overwhelmed as white carried on through the love-filled night.
We can add white to family before blue decides to return again.
Red will also join the painting party-Another eighteen before men!
It took a lot of work to make my dear reds come.
I enjoyed the work, but my reds were way more fun.
One red stayed with us, but the other ran away rather young.
Maybe brown kidnapped him early, but strange words travel by tongue.
We turned grey as brown dimmed down, but we swear we've never seen pink more bright!
Brown had completely gone, like both of our reds, but pink still made things light.
I then feared and cried as my pink's grey burned out like a setting sun.
My grey began to fade too, but I was ready. My life was done.
My mother handed me the canvas and the frame,
But I had to add all the colors (none I showed for shame) .
Blue, green, pink, brown, red, grey-my portrait is made of those colors,
But I am just one piece in a gallery, and all of you are the others.
poem by Alex Lewis
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Brown Baby
(oscar brown jr.)
Brown baby
Brown baby
As you grow up
I want you to drink from the plenty cup
I want you to stand up
Tall and proud
I want you to speak up
Speak up clear and cloud
Brown baby
Brown baby
As years roll by
Walk with your head held high
I want you to live by
Live by the justice code
I want you to walk down
Walk down the freedom road
Brown baby
Brown baby
Now baby
Lie away
Lie away sleeping
Lie away here in my arms
While your mommy and daddy protect you
And keep you save from harm
Brown baby
Brown baby
It makes me so glad
That you will have things
Ive never had
When out of mens hearts
All the hate is hurled
Youre gonna live
Youre gonna live in a better world
Brown baby
Mmammamama
Brown baby
Mmammamama
Sweet thing
Lie away sleeping
song performed by by Diana Ross
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Brown And The Blue...
it is not between blue
or brown
it brown within the
coolness of blue
it is when the brown
is let go
when the blue rests
on the floor
as brown and scarlet
seek each other's hold.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Thoughts On The Sounds of Silence
The sounds of silence beacons me.
Like the flight of a bumble bee.
For my life is in a quandary. And I am the one who is confused.
All the noise I here has me transfused.
The constant noise is like a cancerous ooze, someone mused.
All this noise has everyone confused.
I pray to God above to bestow me with the sounds of silence.
All human life is in the balance.
With the sounds of silence I believe peace surrounds us.
About this subject I must confess, I need to access.
I must admit that the sounds of silence is for me.
On the sounds of silence many of us do agree
That peace and love needs to be in great balance.
Without the sounds of silence there would be a major imbalance.
poem by Nichole Kaci McKnight
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An Oarsman
Where is the coast?
Just in the boat
With no one around
He sings even a song!
In western horizon
The king 'Sun' sleeps alone
Merry clouds go brown
(So far) He sings the song!
A shower of rain
Can't let him pain
Miss.Windy starts to frown
(So far) He sings the song!
With force of angry waves
Even rocks can be damaged
How about his wooden bound?
(So far) He sings the song!
His old rudder shapes him solo
How to manage to and fro
Further rowing, no allowed
(So far) He sings the song!
Oh, my dear oarsman!
I wanna know your song
Give people to be strong
Like you, never down! !
poem by Eindaray Kyaw
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Not Impatient
The colors of autumn start to fade
and as the leaves begin their fall
the grass is left with no shade.
It does not complain.
It accepts snow and rain
and as the cold seeps
the grass patiently sleeps.
Now the colors change to a dull brittle brown
Still the sun shines down
on this changing of the colors.
And it's we that frown,
not the colors of autumn.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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The Grave
The grave that they dug him had flowers
Gathered from the hillsides in bright summer colors,
And the brown earth bleached white at the edge of his gravestone.
Hes gone.
When the wars of our nation did beckon,
A man barely twenty did answer the calling.
Proud of the trust that he placed in our nation,
Hes gone,
But eternity knows him, and it knows what weve done.
And the rain fell like pearls on the leaves of the flowers
Leaving brown, muddy clay where the earth had been dry.
And deep in the trench he waited for hours,
As he held to his rifle and prayed not to die.
But the silence of night was shattered by fire
As guns and grenades blasted sharp through the air.
And one after another his comrades were slaughtered.
In morgue of marines, alone standing there.
He crouched ever lower, ever lower with fear.
They cant let me die! the cant let me die here!
Ill cover myself with the mud and the earth.
Ill cover myself! I know Im not brave!
The earth! the earth! the earth is my grave.
The grave that they dug him had flowers
Gathered from the hillsides in bright summer colors,
And the brown earth bleached white at the edge of his gravestone.
Hes gone.
song performed by by Don McLean
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Love and Friend (Retouched)
In my gallery of heart
You as my subject of art
To ask people to ask them-self...
What colors they pick for their friend?
Common question plays on mind
If our choice, wrongly taken
Can the heart be mend again?
Observe the piece carefully
Good one naturally touch gently
Only can brush with sincerely hand
A Magic touch of soft blend
Whatever colors to be now
Like or not you will know
As your feeling flows
by someone call friend?
or love? friend, love
For hours they stuck,
Just confused in muse
Figuring an abstract their feeling reflects
Red real love bound on blue true love
Purple explain how love is not only for a lover
It designed to fit someone called friend
by my great love, My dear God
Love of a friend
purest like a blessing rain
when it fall to kiss dry and hot desert
grow and branching for a nice feeling
just like a plant greened on desert
eyes being comfort
calm never less
beautiful and blessed...
accept all without condition
A true friend
Speak deep in heart
Nothing with money
Sweeter than honey
Hate to hate
Love to love
When we need and we get feed
Love present everytime friends meet
Count your feeling, blessing
Color will fades
When you losing a true friend
The art will less it's intense
losing our eyes...blinding will
losing a taste of friendship..Miss the sweet
losing a sweet of memory...Loose the glory
we need a friend to see and you my eyes
Shall be blend our souls
For the ray of light invades
To be a masterpiece of art
We need to hold together
Avoid all seven colors fade
because you are my hidden sight
My heart swimming in our glade
So u could see how beautiful to make
Love is for you
For a friend
For someone like you
My lips, my tongue, my voice
verbally deliver a word
An art as a theme to thank
Live start and end with love
For always be my great friend
Grant you will never losing me
If you could hear me
My heartbeats repeatedly telling you
I could be your third eyes forever
Explain the images of art in life
So friend will keep you sight always clear
Friend or Love? it is the same?
My art is colorful blue
The art of heart is you
Framing you now
As my precious art subject
So keep it to be happy forever
Forever with you
: : : : : : : : : : : : Theme: Friendship: : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : :
We forgotten how deep friendship can bring, It's a love
that we need to protect, to keep in rest of our life :)
This poem has second version==> bouquet of word......
Dedicated to all my friends for all cares and hearts for me
(Art of Heart)
............................................. ......................................
Old version
People say what is
friend?
what is love?
they always confused
because
love is not only for a lover
it also makes for a friend
and great love for God
love of friend
like...
a rain that
fall on dry and hot desert
then it grows into a nice feeling
just like a plant greened on desert
beautiful and blessed...
a true friend
nothing with money
sweeter than honey
hate to hate friend
love to love friend
because
losing a friend
mean
losing our eyes..
losing a taste of friendship
losing a sweet of memory
each of the ray of light invades
don't let the seven colors fade
so here
i just want to say
thanks for be my good friend
i promise u will have
me as your eyes forever
...................................... ................................................. ..............
poem by Unwritten Soul
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Brown And Blue, Revised....
it is not between blue
or brown
it is of this earth
within the
coolness of blue
it is when the brown
shades of this
skin
are spread
when the blue shades of your eyes rest
upon the floor
of my belly
that my navel beats
like a tadpole in that pond
as brown and scarlet
take once more the interlinking of my earthly arms
to the blueness of your skies
it is when color
seek each other's hold
it is when when they mix
and blend
that tones and scents become
as perfect as both
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Late autumn
The yellow veldt, the skeleton chestnut trees
specs of orange-red aloes in the kopje
are near to the old white house
and in the late afternoon shades draw long lines
while I walk up to the house on the red-brown dirt road
and most of the flowers in the garden are stripped bare
but a few irises are flowering yellow,
purple and cream brown
and the sky is dull blue and the early evening cold
is already on the wind that is rustling everything
and after years I open the garden gate
are coming back to my childhood home
stripped from illusions,
and I am bare from the childhood innocence
but full of hope
and looking through a mature man’s eyes.
poem by Gert Strydom
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