The Female Poem
The female poem
Saunters through the autumn leaves
Among the secret deities
And the drunken trees
Making metaphors and myths,
The language of the goddess.
She carries within her
Infants of epic imagery,
The children of ancient tales
And the proverbs of truth.
Listen to her speak
In the mesmerizing songs of eternity
That open the heart
And reveal the soul.
poem by Uriah Hamilton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
When I See Autumn
I see autumn in dancing leaves.
I see autumn in words of poets.
I listen the breeze of autumn in your heart beat.
Which touches my heart when I hug you softly.
I fly in autumn higher and higher.
With a zig zag flow the more I get lighter.
I taste the fruits gifted by trees.
Celebrating and sharing the blessings of autumn.
If you search me please do it soon.
I may get lost in the bushes of autumn.
I get green and green with orange purple flowers.
When the leaves all around me give me the showers.
I dance with the chanting sparrows.
I forget all of my sorrows.
I get lost, lost and lost in the arms of God.
I become numb and dumb when I see autumn.
This poem I write in response of Seema Choudhary's poem 'Beauty of Autumn' and I give her the credit.
poem by Ramesh Kavdia
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The Poem That Is Not Good Enough
THE POEM THAT IS NOT GOOD ENOUGH
The poem that is not good enough
Awkwardly fumbles from line to line
Does not hear its own music
Has none.
Its words are larger than its feelings
Its Ideas overwhelm its words
It proclaims a Beauty it cannot reveal.
The poem that is not good enough
Pretends to be a poem
It has birds and flowers and trees and winds
which are names alone.
The Poem which is not good enough
does not touch the Heart
has little Soul
puts everyone to sleep before they finish
beginning it.
A Poem that is not good enough
Just does not Live
And who am I?
And what are you?
And why are we?
Writers and readers of Poems
Looking for our own lost Eternity.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Paradox of Truth
The most subtle lies art the greatest truth
Like the fairy tales of our imaginative youth
Each truth a paradox, a lie does tell
A truth somewhere in mythical spell
When one lies, truth still speaks
For in everything doth truth seek
To express itself to hearts to behold
The truth of life in every lie told
Told in such eloquent song
There is truth in something especially wrong
Rhetoric, myths, ignorance and lies
Truth in all, every truth belies.
If thou don't believe it is certainly true
For to believe is true to me and you
And in this poem if you believe no truth
Let this poem be truth's own proof….
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Vanaprasthiya
Their grandchild’s silken first hair
brushed with tender love;
their own hair, grey or white or gone;
household handed over to
their son, daughter, or
their spouse; now,
to find again themselves, to be themselves;
free, they walk the morning air of freedom
towards the woods; upon the way,
meet others of their age.
Trees - as every child knows
and old men may remember;
old women see through their own children's eyes -
listen with such silent wisdom,
that among the trees,
all become wise.
And so they, the honoured aged,
meet, acknowledge, greet,
speak as many words as truth may draw;
meditate; then, open eyes and every sense
teach, this is what a temple is;
this is what you are.
Evening stillness; then they return
to the hearth and warmth of family; as
a great grove of ancient, fresh-leafed trees
where in stillness soul meets nature
and finds truth arise.
*
[With thanks to Sunil Bhattacharya for some hints of history]
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Let The Children Speak
Time - way out of line
A whole nation waits outside
The rhythm of tomorrow
They can dance away their sorrows tonight
Lost - broken and scarred
Prisoner waits outside with his lone heart beating
Let the children, let the children
Let the children, let the children speak
Let the children - let the children speak
Aims - dangerous games
Their mother says one false move and we all get hurt
I feel this sense of power I feel it every hour tonight
Lets not get lazy tonight
Things could get crazy cos
One more kick and the door cracks open
Let the children, let the children
Let the children, let the children speak
Let the children, let the children
Let the children, let the children
Power to the powerless strength unto the weak
Let the children, let the children
Let the children, let the children speak
Im begging you now let the children, let the children
Let the children, let the children
Power to the powerless, strength unto the weak
Let the children, let the children
Let the children, let the children speak
Lets not get lazy tonight
Things could get crazy cos
One last kick and the door cracks open
Let the children, let the children
Let the children, let the children speak
Power to the powerless, strength unto the weak
Let the children, let the children
Let the children, let the children speak
Things could get crazy tonight
Lets not get lazy cos
One last kick and the door cracks open
Let the children, let the children
Let the children, let the children speak
Im begging you now
Let the children, let the children
Let the children, let the children
Power to the powerless, strength unto the weak
Let the children, let the children
Let the children, let the children speak
The language of this world
Lets not get lazy cos
One false move and we all get hurt
Let the children, let the children
Let the children, let the children speak
The language of this world
Things could get crazy
Written by kerr/burchill (c) emi publishing ltd reproduced without permission
song performed by by Simple Minds
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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She Will Understand
I know of a beautiful, dark-haired girl.
I have never touched her hand,
But I have swooned at the thought.
We haven’t walked the lonely autumn streets
I love the best, the streets of poor children
Who smile through the gloom
As the leaves rustle down the broken concrete.
This lovely one has not yet fallen in love with poets
And the magical vision of poetry,
But she is on the verge; sadness is in her soul,
She has known childhood heartbreak,
The fragility of the inner-child,
And she is growing everyday into her goddess.
One day, she will see the beauty of a drunken poet
Who doesn’t want to hurt anyone,
The mysticism of a passionate heart,
The conviction of human dignity,
And the voice of one crying in the wilderness,
And then she will understand the one she doubts,
The one she criticizes, she will understand the voice of truth.
poem by Uriah Hamilton
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A Poem Is Just A Poem
a poem is just a poem and if it is just a poem
it must be just a poem just like another poem
a poem is nothing but just a poem otherwise
it cannot be my poem; it may speak about
anything, or something, or about everything,
but my poem is just a poem just like anybody's
poem, which is just but a poem, like any other
poem, for a poem to be a poem it must just be
a poem: it has nothing to do with my love, and death
my life, or bliss, but as i have told you, once, twice
thrice, eat some rice, and be that wise, a poem is
just a poem, just like your poem. Why do you insist
on asking, what is happening to me? I am not a
poem, for i am but just the composer of the poem,
need i tell you again, that a poem is just a poem?
just like any other poem, which is just a poem
it is just a voice in my head that i have heard
someone comes and speaks and i listen so
this poem is not actually my poem but the poem
of someone else's: theirs not mine, from a mind.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Autumn
(10/13/11)
The autumn leaves falling on the ground
The autumn leaves of yellow, orange and brown
The trees like a rainbow of colors
Such as this there is no other.
My friends would climb up the smallest trees
And shake the leaves down to me.
then the leaves are raked up and placed in a large pile
Children diving in and laughing all the while.
The crispy crunch that you hear
Sends the chills through your ears.
The autumn leaves reminding us
That Halloween was very near
Where we could dress up and create some fear.
But for now we would have our fun
Chasing each other with our water guns
Diving into leaves of gold and brown
Hoping that we wouldn’t be found.
The park keeper was as happy as can be
From raking the leaves he was free.
He would pick them up and putting
Them into the metal cans- and the smell
Of burning leaves would fill the air
Letting people know that autumn was here.
(memories are made of this- like the song)
poem by Louis Rams
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Autumn
Summer droplets sweating on autumn
Perspiring brother builds his equinox column
Provoked earth invokes southwesterly solemn
For humans ever summer they condemn
Autumn is good barbering the trees
To brown and wither strewn their leaves
On Adiperukku blessed autumn by swelling rivers
Sow to later blossom variable the seeds
Questing along with the fluttering southwesterly
Autumn clinks and clinks bangles genuinely
On Adipooram with all goddesses thoroughly
Marking the goddess of genesis augustly
Autumn is the sacred son of goddess Amma
Holi-dipped on Adi amavasai turns the cause of arcana
Ere monsoon enters into nature's arena
For soothing autumn a continual hosanna
Autumn by women adored and idolized
Around power of Shakti for it is centralised
Women to Varalakshmi while surrendered
Autumn propitiates Avani avittam anew freshened
Autumn marches on showering drizzles
At courtallam with festive hurtles
Then to make for Lord Krishna delicacies
Rushes with Lord Ganesh ingesting dumplings
That the Lords apprise of a purpose
Autumn is obedient with obeissance to the manes
Then busy propitiating Dasara deities
Invokes autumn Shakti for the approaching rains
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Once Upon An Autumn Day
Once Upon an autumn day,
Colorful leaves began to fade
In the midst of a chilly, frosty air
As multitude of trees grew steadily bare.
Once upon an autumn day,
The whispering breeze was here to stay
Moving aimlessly through the countless trees
Scattering leaves with the greatest of ease.
Once upon an autumn day,
The leaves whirled freely in every way,
Until at last they came to rest
Finding a haven in which to nest.
Once upon an autumn day,
The trees were dormant, and the leaves lay
Waiting for the winter snow to fall
To quickly obscure them one and all.
poem by Joseph T. Renaldi
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Listen To Love
Baby close your eyes, listen to love
See what dreams are made of
Oh, and if one kiss
Speaks to us like this
Why resist it, baby, listen to love
The voices of reason
Say not to leap in
They tell me be careful, friend
Dont get burned again
But when I feel your heartbeat
I know something beautiful is starting
We need to believe in
Baby close your eyes, listen to love
See what dreams are made of
Oh, and if one kiss
Speaks to us like this
Why resist it, baby, listen to love
Venus rose out of the sea
Looking for you and me
She showed us the stars above
Said all we need is love
Its no time to be modest
Give it up, surrender to the goddess
You know in your heart its true
Baby, shes calling you
Come on now, come on now, come on now
Tell me you can hear it
Come on now, come on now
Open up your heart, listen to love
The stuff that dreams are made of
Oh and if one touch
Can reveal so much
Dont you know weve got to listen to love
Baby close your eyes, listen to love
See what dreams are made of
Oh, and if one kiss
Speaks to us like this
Why resist it, baby, listen to love
Why resist it, baby, listen
Listen to love
Come on now, come on now, come on now
Tell me you can hear it
Come on now, come on now
Open up your heart, listen to love
The stuff that dreams are made of
Oh and if one touch
Can reveal so much
Dont you know weve got to listen to love
Baby close your eyes, listen to love
See what dreams are made of
Oh, and if one kiss
Speaks to us like this
Why resist it, baby, listen to love
Open up your heart, listen to love
The stuff that dreams are made of
Oh and if one touch
Can reveal so much
Dont you know weve got to listen to love
Lie down and listen
Listen to love
song performed by by Belinda Carlisle
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Trees Are Blabbermouths (Fun Poem 113)
A song on a south wind
whispers stories to the trees
of love affairs illicit
that no one should know,
but the trees are blabbermouths
telling anyone who’ll listen
all the secret that they know.
If you pass a tree one day
when its leaves are rustling
just listen and you will hear
the secrets it has been told
of love affairs illicit
that no one should know
because trees are blabbermouths.
They shout their words across the breeze
so everyone can hear.
If you have a secret
and want it to keep it that,
make sure the trees don’t hear
or that secret won’t be a secret
because the trees are blabbermouths.
14 March 2011
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sphinx Tattoo
Entrancing and pale
Like the autumn moonlight,
The young girl with blue October eyes
Dances in the sidewalk leaves
Offering inspiration
To furtive midnight deities.
After a sudden explosion of love,
She will float butterfly-like
To a downtown apartment terrace
To reveal her soul and Sphinx tattoo
To a perplexed but efficacious lover.
poem by Uriah Hamilton
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Waiting for Autumn
WAITING FOR AUTUMN
In my place, autumn comes near Christmas
Far less of the day and more of the night
I have always longed to see it
The leaves of autumn and its gloom
Cry with me. The sky
Its golden and orange color
Speak of my soul
In autumn are times my heart seeks for you
I can hear your breath
In the circles of fog that color the wind
When your eyes meet with mine
It speaks a language we both couldn’t understand
But of efflorescence of dawn in the coals that fade
In the calm of autumn
Outside my little hut
I see the roses fall like sakura
Each petal fall like a teardropp that you wipe away
My words pile up a heap of dried leaves
In front of the grotto, waiting
I’d sit on a log, till the hymn of the evening rings
One by one you come and go
In the shade of stars and clouds, and the time I hold in my hand
A time I would not lose
Until the hours are nailed rainbows on my chest
Autumn, is my womb that grows a child
The white snow that hugs the old big roots of giant trees
Covering it safely, until it melts,
They are together
I know it will take a long time
To grow again, another tree
My tears fall on the earth
Burying the next seeds
Now the windows are filled with light
Illumined with trees stretched in abundance
Begging the sky
My womb, the earth’s womb
Waiting.
rosalinda flores martinez,2009
http: //roseprayers.blogspot.com
poem by Rosalinda Flores Martinez
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I Let The Music Speak
Im hearing images, Im seeing songs
No poet has ever painted
Voices call out to me, straight to my heart
So strange yet were so well acquainted
I let the music speak, with no restraints
I let my feelings take over
Carry my soul away into the world
Where beauty meets the darkness of the day
Where my mind is like an open window
Where the high and healing winds blow
From my shallow sleep the sounds awake me
I let them take me
(let them wake me, let them have me, let them take me)
Let it be a joke
Let it be a smile
Let it be a farce if it makes me laugh for a little while
Let it be a tear
Let it be a sigh
Coming from a heart, speaking to a heart, let it be a cry
Some streets are emptiness, dry leaves of autumn
Rustling down an old alley
And in the dead of night I find myself
A blind man in some ancient valley
I let the music speak, leading me gently
Urging me like a lover
Leading me all the way
Into a place
Where beauty will defeat the darkest day
Where Im one with every grand illusion
No disturbance, no intrusion
Where I let the wistful sounds seduce me
I let them use me
(all illusion, no disturbance, no intrusion)
Let it be a joke
Let it be a smile
Let it be a farce if it makes me laugh for a little while
Let it be a tear
Let it be a sigh
Coming from a heart, speaking to a heart, let it be a cry
Let it be a tear
Let it be a sigh
Coming from a heart, speaking to a heart, let it be a cry
Let it be the joy of each new sunrise
Or the moment when a day dies
I surrender without reservation
No explanations
No questions why
I take it to me and let it flow through me
Yes, I let the music speak
I let the music speak
song performed by by ABBA
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Goddess Revival
I wake up in the garden
A wind across my hair
The bloom of jasmine and the
Night sky satin
Softly she is there
The trail of light she leaves
Like sand in an hourglass
I listen to her voice at last
I am your past
Goddess revival
Ill be your path
One of her disciples
Please take my task
Goddess revival...
It was dark and so quiet
Venus led psyche to the rosey dawn
Shes only beginning to fight like shes winning
Through seasons, years, and eras, she carries on
I walk the way she walks
Leaving trails of golden light
I listen to her voice tonight
I am your past
Goddess revival
Ill be your friend
One of her disciples
Please take my hand
Godess revival...
Now I can see the light
Youve got to learn from me
Youve got a lot to learn
Goddess...
I am your past
Goddess revival
Ill be your friend
One of her disciples
Please take my hand
Goddess revival...
I am goddess revival
One of her disciples
Take me to the land
Ill show you what I am
song performed by by Wilsons
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Poem's Language
a poem has it's own language
if a poet uses the glamour of the language
in his poem...the language
would stand out
if a poet shows his versatality over the language
in his poem...the poet
would stand out
the poet and the language should
lose themselves in the poem...for
the poem to speak it's own language
poem by Samanyan Lakshminarayanan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Autumn in the Northerm Hemisphere, Spring in the South..
It’s autumn here: the leaves fall brown,
the nights are cold and frosty,
the days are shorter and shorter,
there’s snow on the way…
is autumn asking you to be sad?
Go take a walk: fill your lungs with air –
isn’t that good? Don’t you feel the air
singing of everything that nature needs
to keep things going the whole year round?
Llisten as you walk
to all that goes on in silence;
secret movements pretending to be stillness:
the trees are making plans for Spring,
the plants, the flowers too; the earth
is bubbling secretly with thoughts of Spring..
If on an autumn walk
a Persian poet met a Japanese poet
they might write
a Persian haiku:
This autumn evening
my mind is full of endings;
trees smile as they plan.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Listen!
Listen!
Can't you hear them?
You don't know what your missing
A birds chirp, a Bees hum.
Listen!
Can't you hear them?
Children's laughter hark!
Playing In the park.
Listen!
Can't you hear them?
A lovers sigh
Never to deny.
Listen!
Can't you hear them?
Old folk words
Wisdom and life's tales
Listen!
Can't you hear me?
Heart crying
Soul flying
Listen!
poem by Robert Green
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