Still Following Her Scarf through a Crowd
Swimming with Cindy
Magical summers lost,
Bike rides through the city
Laughing beneath autumn trees,
Dreams of parks and tennis courts
Still hurt my heart,
Paul Verlaine and Rimbaud days
Innocently writing poems
And singing songs…
I want to love someone
In an astonishing way
But all I embrace anymore
Is my darkness and obscurity.
poem by Uriah Hamilton
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Biography
Arthur Rimbaud (1854-1891) Jean Nicolas Arthur Rimbaud, a French poet, was born Oct.20,1854, in Charleville. His childhood was marred by a 'cantankerous and vindictive' mother and by the discipline of the local school, but his poetic virtuosity was extraordinary. By the age of fifteen he had written verse in imitation of the Romanticists (Vers de College,1932) , and one of his teachers, Izambard, introduced him to contemporary poetry. He was fiercely revolutionary, and wrote the words 'Down with God' on the public benches of Charleville. He ran away from his native town, twice to Paris and once into Belgium, and once he spent 10 days in prison for travelling by train without a ticket. During these escapades, he wrote such poems as Ma Boheme and Le Cabaret vert.
In 1871, in Charleville, he wrote his first prose poems and the Lettres du voyant, and sent to Verlaine a copy of his poem Le Bateau ivre. Verlaine was enthusiastic with the work and encouraged Rimbaud to come to Paris. At this time he had already started the composition of his Illuminations, which was not published until 1886. Verlaine and Rimbaud drifted into an affair. He served in the army of the Commune, and after its fall he went abroad with Verlaine, travelling in England and Belgium. In 1873, in Brussels, he was shot in the wrist by Verlaine, who was condemned to 2 years' imprisonment in the city of Mons for the act. After the incident, Rimbaud wrote a new Illuminations and Une Saison en Enfer.
In november 1893, Rimbaud gave up the writing of poetry and started traveling through Europe on foot. He returned once more to Paris and then disappeared for 16 years. Part of this time he spent in the East, but the greater part was in Ethiopia, where he dealt in contraband firearms, in ivory and gold, and perhaps in slaves. In 1891 he became ill, returned to France to have one leg amputated, and died on November 10 in a Marseille hospital.
poem by Arthur Rimbaud
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Daily Routine
Every evening at 5.09
he leaves the office,
takes the streetcar
into town,
goes for a stroll
down to the park
by the canal,
there he sits
on the bench nearest
the ornate water fountain;
He dreams,
of a lost childhood
long summers ago
by the sea,
days filled with singing,
laughing and
crying;
Crying now,
the little girl
by the fountain
who has lost her way,
golden hair, eyes of grey,
reflected in his thick lenses;
As he watches her
he dreams,
of long summers ago,
a childhood by the sea
filled with laughing
and crying;
now in the park
he lies beneath a summer sky,
side by side with
the golden girl
and
she lies
very still.
poem by Louis Kasatkin
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The Pretty, Pretty City
Now the city has a studded nose,
Because the city is so pretty, and the city knows:
The city, she almost fooled me underneath the
Chicken sky- The city is so pretty,
But the city lie:
I loved the city and all its vermilion moods and ice-creams,
With parks and busses and city airplanes
And city rides- City coffins and city dies;
And I watched the city get drunk and turn around
And raise its monuments and party down;
And I sat upon one of her benches in a speculating mood,
And wondered if the city was so pretty,
Why was she so rude: The vulgar nebulas of the city’s
Eyes, the narcissisms of its displays:
There are so many well suited boys better than I out walking
In their sunny city days:
And I realized, the city didn’t love me,
The city plays and paws and eats up little boys such as
Me- She said she loves her little poet boys, such as me,
But the sweet, sweet city lies,
Because the city is so pretty, studded nosed and stunning eyed,
But she uses her autumn facades to blind the autumn chicken skies-
The pretty, pretty city has me hypnotized,
But the pretty, pretty city lies.
poem by Bret R. Crabrooke
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Tore Down A La Rimbaud
Showed me pictures in the gallery
Showed me novels on the shelf
Put my hands across the table
Gave me knowledge of myself.
Showed me visions, showed me nightmares
Gave me dreams that never end
Showed me light out of the tunnel
When there was darkness all around instead.
Tore down a la rimbaud
And I wish my message would come
Tore down a la rimbaud, you know its hard some time
You know its hard some time.
Showed me ways and means and motions
Showed me what its like to be
Gave me days of deep devotions
Showed me things I cannot see.
Tore down a la rimbaud
And I wish my purpose would come
Tore down a la rimbaud, you know its hard some time.
You know its hard some time.
Showed me different shapes and colours
Showed me many different roads
Gave me very clear instructions
When I was in the dark night of the soul.
Tore down a la rimbaud
And I wish my writing would come
Tore down a la rimbaud, you know its hard some time.
You know its hard some time.
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Songs About Love
Written by kim wilde
Well theyll tease you and theyll please you
Make you better when youre feeling bad
All hope is gone - singing
Songs about love
Theyll upset you and theyll get you
Slay your fantasy till you almost believe
Youre the only one - singing
(songs about love)
So dont believe theyre writing all those songs for you
Oh no cos you know theyre only lies youre listening to
Those songs about love
Its all over now and nothings right
Youre left crying every night
(it aint fair) oh no no
(it aint fair) singing all about love
Theyll deceive you, now theyll leave you
Leave you so confused dont you know youve been used
Now cant you see - singing
All about love
So dont believe theyre writing all those songs for you
Oh no cos you know theyre only lies youre listening to
Those songs about love
Its all over now and nothings right
Youre left crying every night
(it aint fair) oh no no
(it aint fair) so what youre gonna do about it
Dont you see its just not right
To keep your feelings out of sight
(feeling bad) oh no no
(feeling bad) singing songs about love
And if wed never meet again
(what would you do with your life)
Do you think we could be friends
(or would it hurt you hurt you)
Dont you see they got to you and me
With all their songs about love
Well you know now, better go now
Gonna mend your heart its a brand new start
Dont be afraid - singing
Songs about love
So dont believe theyre writing all those songs for you
Oh no cos you know theyre only lies youre listening to
Those songs about love
Ooh ooh ooh
Oh no no no no
Dont you see its just not right
To leave your feelings out of sight
Oh no no
Singing songs about love
(ad lib vocals)
song performed by by Kim Wilde
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cant Take The Hurt Anymore
Now that the past has ended
My lifes an open door
I know that we could have been mended
Oh but I cant take the hurt anymore
Cant take the hurt anymore
Ooh ooh cant take the hurt anymore
The rainbows over
But Ive seen it leave before
A love thats been left in the corner
Ooh cos I cant take the hurt anymore
Cant take the hurt anymore
Ooh ooh cant take the hurt anymore
Lady of my ladys
Cant we find the right
And leave behind the sorrow
Lady of my ladys
Cant we find the light
Bright enough to guide us
Cant take the hurt anymore
Ooh ooh cant take the hurt anymore
This love grows older
But Ive felt it all before
Yesterdays over my shoulder
Ooh cos I cant take the hurt anymore
Cant take the hurt anymore
Ah ah cant take the hurt anymore
My love I found has lost its crown
But I just cant leave it die
I fool myself and no one else
Cos I would if I could and I try
Cant take the hurt anymore etc....
song performed by by Cliff Richard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On Autumns Earth
This is the beginning
Now carry me away
On to the faraway new day
That now is born to play
Yes this is the beginning
Moments dreamed and found
Everything in its singing
That comes again around
Flowers on autumn´s earth
Reaching their own goal
Times of days and worth
Each their together role
Flowers on autumn´s earth
Reaching their own goal
Times of days and worth
Each their together role
On autumn´s earth
Yesterdays were all turning
In their beat´s echo heart
Forever in lay and burning
Poles and miles apart
Flames of their color giving
All that came from within
Days their dreams own living
As worlds take their spin
Flowers on autumn´s earth
Reaching their own goal
Times of days and worth
Each their together role
Flowers on autumn´s earth
Reaching their own goal
Times of days and worth
Each their together role
On autumn´s earth
Swept away in their call
Dreams that were carried on
Love songs of colors fall
Until their moments are gone
You and I had our calling
Dreams that were not to be
Now like autumn earth's falling
All that we had is now free
Flowers on autumn´s earth
Reaching their own goal
Times of days and worth
Each their together role
Flowers on autumn´s earth
Reaching their own goal
Times of days and worth
Each their together role
On autumn´s earth
Flowers on autumn´s earth
Reaching their own goal
On autumn´s earth
poem by Peter S. Quinn
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On Autumn´s Earth
This is the beginning
Now carry me away
On to the faraway new day
That now is born to play
Yes this is the beginning
Moments dreamed and found
Everything in its singing
That comes again around
Flowers on autumn´s earth
Reaching their own goal
Times of days and worth
Each their together role
Flowers on autumn´s earth
Reaching their own goal
Times of days and worth
Each their together role
On autumn´s earth
Yesterdays were all turning
In their beat´s echo heart
Forever in lay and burning
Poles and miles apart
Flames of their color giving
All that came from within
Days their dreams own living
As worlds take their spin
Flowers on autumn´s earth
Reaching their own goal
Times of days and worth
Each their together role
Flowers on autumn´s earth
Reaching their own goal
Times of days and worth
Each their together role
On autumn´s earth
Swept away in their call
Dreams that were carried on
Love songs of colors fall
Until their moments are gone
You and I had our calling
Dreams that were not to be
Now like autumn earth's falling
All that we had is now free
Flowers on autumn´s earth
Reaching their own goal
Times of days and worth
Each their together role
Flowers on autumn´s earth
Reaching their own goal
Times of days and worth
Each their together role
On autumn´s earth
Flowers on autumn´s earth
Reaching their own goal
On autumn´s earth
poem by Peter S. Quinn
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Cindy, Cindy
(words & music by kaye - weisman - fuller)
Wish I was an apple dangling from a tree
Every time youd pass me by youd take a bite of me
I wish I was a bluebird Id never fly away
Id sit up on your shoulder baby and sing to you all day
Come on home cindy cindy, come on home cindy cindy
Come on home cindy cindy, come on home to me
I wrote it in a letter, carved it on a tree
Told it to a honeycomb, told it to a bee
Told them that I love you, they all know its true
Say it till the cows come home until it gets to you
Come on home cindy cindy, come on home cindy cindy
Come on home cindy cindy, come on home to me
Need you in the morning to start the coffee pot
Need you in the afternoon to fan me when Im hot
Need you in the evening when supper time is through
What Im really tryin to say is I cant get enough of you
Come on home cindy cindy, come on home cindy cindy
Come on home cindy cindy, come on home to me
If I were a musician Id harp on just one thing
You should never play my harp the way you pluck a string
If only you would love me say it and tell me so
I need two charms about me baby to have the whole world know
Come on home cindy cindy, come on home cindy cindy
Come on home cindy cindy, come on home to me
Come on home cindy cindy, come on home cindy cindy
Come on home cindy cindy, come on home to me
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cindy, Oh Cindy
Go like this...
All right, knock it off
Cindy, Oh Cindy
Bye Mom
One-two, a one-two-three
I joined the Navy to see the world
But nowhere could I find
A girl as sweet as Cindy
The girl I left behind
I've searched the wide world over
Can't get her out of my mind
~CHORUS~
Cindy, oh Cindy
(C-Cindy, C-Cindy)
Cindy don't let me down
(C-Cindy, C-Cindy)
Write me a letter, dear
(C-Cindy, C-Cindy)
And I'll be homeward bound
(C-Cindy, C-Cindy)
I see her face in every wave
Her lips kiss every breeze
Her loving arms reach out to me
Through calm and stormy sea
At night I face the lonely day
Caressed by memories
~CHORUS~
I know my Cindy's waiting for me
As I walk the decks alone
Her loving arms reach out to me
Soon I'll be heading home
Then my sailing days will be over
No more will I roam
~CHORUS~
(C-Cindy, C-Cindy
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The bike must go - a song
Got to keep the engine running - My soul's on fire
Like to see my baby - my one desire
Can't help this feeling it's hard to explain
It hurts my heart it gives me pain
She says
The bike must go
No no no no no
The bike must go
Riding through the city streets, with my leathers on
Looking cool in black as the day is long
I can't quite understand it but my baby's wrong
Plugged into her Ipod and listening to her song
She says
The bike must go
No no no no no
The bike must go.
She's driving me crazy with her stance
And I'm sure she's taking me for a dance
When she says I hate it - it's like doing time
Then she looks at me and says
The bike must go
Oh no no no no
The bike must go.
There's no way around it, can't persuade her n-o more,
it'll be a pity but what can I do?
Sooner or later she's got to see
The bike's for cruising with her and me
And she says:
The bike must go
Oh no no no no
The bike must go
How can she be so cruel when I love her so
I tried ever thing to please her that I know
Got to keep my baby on the wild side
And she looks into my eyes and says
The bike must go
Oh no no no no
The bike must go
I love my baby like a dog chewing a bone
I called her this morning on the telephone,
There's no way around it
I tried my best
There's nothing more to say except
The bike must go
The bike must go
Oh no no no no
The bike must go.
*I turned this poem into a song which you can listen to on Youtube or google. Just type 'the bike must go' Enjoy.
poem by JeanJacques Evendon
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Memories II
Dreams steal soft thoughts from secret store.
How sad to gaze upon the shore
where once we wandered, long before
the fickle sickle struck shared core.
Like Autumn leaves windfall from trees,
what trace remains? Will memories
of old love linger on Time’s breeze
when we’re forgotten set of keys?
From secret store dreams steal soft thoughts
the sharing with the love one courts,
caring unchallenged in the courts.
When we’re statistical reports,
like leaves from Autumn trees, which fall,
what will remain, when over all
Time lays its winding sheet to call
game, set and match? What will befall? ...
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Hurt
Leaving him hurt
hurts more than a broken bone
and then you came along
so perfect so sweet
and then so quickly you disappeared
my heart already shattered lost hope
leaving me crushed into pieces
I thought I could heal
once again become whole with you
but it looks ill only be hurt once more
now in pieces I sit an I burn
slowly turning into ashes
my heart is no more
for I lost hope to ever love again
because everytime I do I'm hurt
I can't feel loved anymore
as I never was before
I can no longer love
as I don't know how to anymore
this will leave me torn
for the rest of my days
as I can no longer have your heart
all I have is pain
the pain that's left behind
and that feeling no one needs
that feeling of being hurt
poem by Kerrie Maurer
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Autumn of My Youth
In autumn of my youth
I see my leaves changing
I see my stars waning.
In autumn of my youth I dreamed a dream
And sought what I seemed to be
The meaning of that dream.
In autumn of my youth it was my lot
To hunt the hungry world a spot
And lay my burdens aside
In a vast field of rye so wide
In autumn of my youth it was my place
To wrap the summers in a constant embrace
Plead them not to enter
The Ashen Valley
Where dreams are broken asunder
Below grey skies.
In autumn of my youth
I see the faces of a world that awaits me.
So ghastly black and white,
Where the loss of hope defers the youth
A second sight
In autumn of my youth,
I longed to be
With the summers, one you and one me
Equally chained and equally free
poem by Jacob McCurdy
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0103 These late autumn days
these late autumn days
leaves fall like poems
green as new thoughts
yellow as wisdom
red as late summer love
brown as old speech
dry as the past
these late autumn days
old poets
look out at coming winter snowclouds
but hope like trees might hope, unknowing,
for a miracle of rebirth
beyond their dry boughs' reach
of words
new buds
green as
new songs
poem by Michael Shepherd
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The Only Dreams I Have In Writing Now Are Poems
THE ONLY DREAMS I HAVE IN WRITING NOW ARE POEMS
The only dreams I have in writing now are poems
Poems and more poems-
I write them in the morning and in the evening
At all times of day
Whenever I can make them come to me
They calm me and make me rest
They bring a sense that I am still alive
They justify me an amuse me
They give me hope
The only dreams I have now are poems
And poems keep me alive
As long as they can.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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My Obscurity
My life works hard around obscurity it orders my life
My life is a blessing it defines obscurity in my life
Would there be no obscurity there’d be no life
There’d be no me there’d be no exhilaration
Fretfulness, absorption, anticipation love to lust, lust to love
life to death, death to life pain to hurt, hurt to misery
It’s all a obscurity creativeness, endowment and talent
To my poetic life what would there be a obscurity
poem by Dr Shamim ali
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In God's Volume of Poetry
The moonlight words
And the Sunday prayers,
The bike rides
Among autumn leaves,
The winter kisses
Beneath warm blankets,
Holding your hand
In a hospital room,
Crying all night beside you;
All of this and more,
Forever record my love for you
And it is written in God’s volume of poetry.
poem by Uriah Hamilton
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Woman with Train
She rides her bike
Along the railway
Crossing the tracks
Where the long trail ends.
Her gray hair shines:
A flying silver kite
Over clover fields of August.
And at night
When crickets sing
The praises of star light
And pale shadows bath
In the dense void of darkness
She dreams
Of pink-skinned breast-fed babies
Of white butterflies
Or red grapes and rye bread
With black olives.
And as she sleeps
Her lips puff sometimes
Like locomotive engines
Of bygone days.
poem by Paul Hartal
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Paradise Found
I am lost inside
A world of my own,
A world that I painted inside of my thoughts
Within a figment of my imagination-
I have taken myself on a journey to a place
I call paradise-
Inside this place I call paradise
I am lost,
Inside this place I call paradise,
I am alone-
Surrounded by trees and mountains,
Violet in hue – wildflowers would grow and
Grass grows high, caressing my ankles
In an almost loving way-
Inside the world of my thoughts
I step inside this paradise I have found and as I
Lose myself within a dream,
In less than a moment’s time,
My imagination has succumbed
To this magical land of my delusions-
Towards this place where I shall forever remain-
I am lost, I am alone but here in this place I call paradise,
Surrounded by trees and mountains,
Violet in hue and where wildflowers grow and
Grass grows high-
In a strange sort of way, I am not really alone-
I have my thoughts, my dreams and my fantasies and
The voices only I can hear are my constant companions-
Birds, trees and forget-me- knots are truly my friends-
In all actuality, I am no longer lost as
I was in that world outside of my dreams
Within that world into which I was born-
In that world where people have always hurt, betrayed and lied to me-
It was inside that world I was truly lost and alone-
I shall never return to that world.
I have lost myself within a dream and in truth,
I have finally found who I truly am and as I listen to the singing
Of the nightingale, the water rushing in the creek below,
A gentle breeze rustling the leaves upon the trees and
As I watch the sun ascend over the mountains,
The deer running freely and
I begin to sing a song of freedom and peace of mind-
Now I know the true meaning of loss and loneliness-
That is being trapped inside a world laden with myriads of people
Who have and shall always hurt and betray one another, as
Every moment in time rapidly advances too fast to control-
As I glance upward towards this sky of azure-blue,
I lock that phantasmal door that separates fantasy from reality-
Delighted to say that this fantasy has become my new reality and
I have found myself within the world of my dreams,
Surrounded by trees and mountains, violet in hue and
Where wildflowers grow plentifully and
When the sun descends behind the mountains and darkness overcomes
Here in my paradise- I can begin to count the stars and
Dance with the moon on the horizon- to the tune of
The singing of the nightingale-alive in my very own heaven and paradise,
Not lost but found and never again alone-
Here inside the world of my fantasies,
Where I have been reborn, within this magical land of my dreams,
Where I shall always sing a song of freedom as I joyfully wish upon a star-
poem by Claudia Krizay
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