The Words of Dead Poets
Gazing at fragility,
The words of dead poets,
I weep in a bookstore.
Lonely childhood room
Reading Catcher in the Rye
Never leaves me.
I’m at home in autumn
Among the barren trees,
The windswept life
Blows away my love.
poem by Uriah Hamilton
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George Edmunds' Song
Autumn leaves, autumn leaves, lie strewn around he here;
Autumn leaves, autumn leaves, how sad, how cold, how drear!
How like the hopes of childhood's day,
Thick clust'ring on the bough!
How like those hopes in their decay-
How faded are they now!
Autumn leaves, autumn leaves, lie strewn around me here;
Autumn leaves, autumn leaves, how sad, how cold, how drear!
Wither'd leaves, wither'd leaves, that fly before the gale:
Withered leaves, withered leaves, ye tell a mournful tale,
Of love once true, and friends once kind,
And happy moments fled:
Dispersed by every breath of wind,
Forgotten, changed, or dead!
Autumn leaves, autumn leaves, lie strewn around me here!
Autumn leaves, autumn leaves, how sad, how cold, how drear!
poem by Charles Dickens
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Childhood Scar
She looks out
The wintry window
With a heart full of screams
That no one can hear.
Yesterday goodbyes
And departing words to memorize
Fall from the eyes of her mind
Like summer tears
On a lonely beach.
Puzzling predicaments
And ex-lovers to resent
Pile up like autumn leaves
From vanquished and barren trees
In the grey desert of the city.
What have I done to myself
To drown in such a girl
Until nothing is left to notice
Of who I was but a childhood scar
That never disappears?
poem by Uriah Hamilton
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The Autumn Is In The Leaves
The autumn is in the leaves,
in the gestures of people,
when trees are already standing as skeletons,
the autumn is bringing pain
when the winter appears,
the stormy wind blows doors close
with spots of sun splashing down,
stripped trees are in their bark,
lonely I walk in the lane.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Poet As A Flatterer
he loves bukowski and e.e. cummings too,
and he colors his world with their shades and hues
and the souls of other poets come to him
love us too
we are too lonely in here
our poems have turned dusty
read us too
and out of respect for those who are dead and lonely
he takes them all inside his room
lights his lamp and burns his eyebrows
(literally dissecting each flesh and vein of those
poets departed)
he writes at the break of his day
i love you all and honor you
but sorry, i have my own poems too
and like yours... forgive me...
they're dusty too and need my reading company.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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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Autumn Ill
Autumn ill and adored
You die when the hurricane blows in the roseries
When it has snowed
In the orchard trees
Poor autumn
Dead in whiteness and riches
Of snow and ripe fruits
Deep in the sky
The sparrow hawks cry
Over the sprites with green hair the dwarfs
Who’ve never been loved
In the far tree-lines
the stags are groaning
And how I love O season how I love your rumbling
The falling fruits that no one gathers
The wind the forest that are tumbling
All their tears in autumn leaf by leaf
The leaves
You press
A crowd
That flows
The life
That goes
poem by Guillaume Apollinaire
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Dream Catcher
Dream catcher a little device
Dream catcher I see your surprise
Dream catcher wake me up
Dream catcher don't be rough
Dream catcher gives me its hand
Dream catcher takes me to the sand
Dream catcher takes my dreams
Dream catcher sends me back to sleep
Dream catcher so beautiful
Dream catcher my only hope
Dream catcher can't you see
I'm in your world
Come and catch me.
poem by Kimberley Waldron
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Still women love men
Wind in spring blows;
Petals wither.
Wind in summer blows;
Fruits fall down.
Wind in autumn blows;
Leaves are shed.
Wind in winter blows;
Barks get cracks.
Still trees love wind.
Still women love men.
27.10.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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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 Fallen Leaves
I.
WE stand among the fallen leaves,
Young children at our play,
And laugh to see the yellow things
Go rustling on their way:
Right merrily we hunt them down,
The autumn winds and we,
Nor pause to gaze where snow-drifts lie,
Or sunbeams gild the tree:
With dancing feet we leap along
Where wither'd boughs are strown;
Nor past nor future checks our song--
The present is our own.
II.
We stand among the fallen leaves
In youth's enchanted spring--
When Hope (who wearies at the last)
First spreads her eagle wing.
We tread with steps of conscious strength
Beneath the leafless trees,
And the colour kindles on our cheek
As blows the winter breeze;
While, gazing towards the cold grey sky,
Clouded with snow and rain,
We wish the old year all past by,
And the young spring come again.
III.
We stand among the fallen leaves
In manhood's haughty prime--
When first our pausing hearts begin
To love 'the olden time;'
And, as we gaze, we sigh to think
How many a year hath pass'd
Since 'neath those cold and faded trees
Our footsteps wander'd last;
And old companions--now perchance
Estranged, forgot, or dead--
Come round us, as those autumn leaves
Are crush'd beneath our tread.
IV.
We stand among the fallen leaves
In our own autumn day--
And, tott'ring on with feeble steps,
Pursue our cheerless way.
We look not back--too long ago
Hath all we loved been lost;
Nor forward--for we may not live
To see our new hope cross'd:
But on we go--the sun's faint beam
A feeble warmth imparts--
Childhood without its joy returns--
The present fills our hearts!
poem by Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton
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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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Meditations after Li Po for M lady Helen
I
I follow in the footsteps
of old poets of the past.
As geese fly south in autumn.
Instinct is my only guide.
My attempts to emulate,
may not bear such worthy fruit.
I can only do my best
II
The trees discard all their leaves
and face winter nakedly.
I ask myself why this should be
but I receive no reply.
Winter winds pass freely through
the leafless twigs and branches.
Dead leaves return to the earth.
III
The trees stand as sentinels
coated with white bitter frost
Bowing in submission
to the power of the wind.
Better to bend than to break,
the trees know instinctively
the wind dies as spring returns.
IV
Only when the time is right
the geese will return once more.
The trees will put forth new leaves,
flowers spring up underfoot
The spring sunshine will inspire
Poets to take up their brush
and ink: To write poetry.
21-Oct-07
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Autumn Falling Leaves
When all have been and gone away,
Like leaves from green to amber orange,
Falling down and to decay,
Is the time for all in nature to fall,
And the leaves on the trees show it all,
Autumn and its falls of fall,
Where all the branches have dropped their leaves,
All have gone except the evergreens,
Showing signs to us that live among,
Four seasons weather,
Where Autumn is,
Just like in life,
When full circle of life is known,
A start in spring where buds appear,
Then in summer full bloom trees will be,
Hence, fall shows all,
When nature falls,
Begining another season,
Winter and chill tempetures,
Where nature decays,
And leaves do fall,
To generate again,
Renewing its life,
Come spring again,
Untill then,
Autumn sheads its leaves of blossom and blooms,
And soon again autumn begins,
From new to old,
And then old to new,
Buds in spring and leaves of green,
Showing birth from what did decayed,
And brought forth from,
What was bear on the trees,
From where beneath was where once,
Those Autumn falling leaves.
poem by Ellen Ni Bheachain
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Autumn’s Glow
There is something about autumn
That brings out such earthiness
Gold leaves adorn bushes and trees
Like an artist with a brilliant brush
Once the leaves dry on the trees
Then the wind begins to blow
It’s a special time of year for me
Because I love autumn so
The cold dry air it seems
Prepare the leaves to fall
Mother Nature’s special time
Yes, it’s the best of all
What a dazzling way to end
The year as winter nears
The way leaves let loose
And dropp like nature’s tears
Oh yes, I love those golden days
Dreamy with autumn’s glow
It makes me smile because I do
Love the season of autumn so!
poem by Marilyn Lott
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Autumn Leaves
Autumn leaves, in the trees
Falling to the ground
Colors of many, in the breeze
Of red and orange and brown.
Rainbow parks in the dark
Moonlight shimmers down
On the leaves, from the trees
Falling to the ground.
Lovers walk, hear them talk
To where Children played
See the beauty, and feel the warmth
From where nature stayed.
Barren trees, forgotten leaves
Another year gone by
All alone from a breeze
As the lovers softly cry.
Autumn leaves from the trees
Lying, on the ground
See the beauty, feel the warmth
And hear, autumns sound.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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Summer Love
Bill dees
Autumn leaves, when they fall
Whisper to the wind, ringing out, telling all
Of the summers end.
Now youre gone far away, how I long to hear you say
I love you.
Whirling leaves, swirling leaves tell me Im alone
Wishing you were here with me longing for you home.
Winter nights are lonely nights how I long to hold you tight
I miss you.
A gentle breeze in the trees will tell me spring is here
And I feel anxiety knowing youll be near.
Summer nights, Ill hold you tight
Under the moon above youll be my summer love.
When summers here and you are near every day Ill pray
Autumn leaves will never come and with me youll stay
You will mean more to me, yes, youll be
More than just a summer love
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Autumn (In Reply To Archibald Macleish)
Like the end of life that comes with old age,
Autumn stripped
turns most of the trees into skeletons,
in cold nipped
days are windswept, the sun without its glare,
we are gripped
by the first spells of winter that is coming,
as if death is already in homing.
[Reference: Immortal Autumn by Archibald MacLeish.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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A lane in England
In autumn I walked in England
in a lane full of trees
where leaves lay auburn
on a road wet from rain.
Barren, stripped oak trees
were between other green ones
and it was as if I was going
right through a tunnel
with here and there trees
of which the leaves were more yellow.
In the distance the road bended to the right
where a bush fence
cut neatly square
and telephone poles
ran along the edge of the road
and the green moss banks
were covered with auburn leaves
at places
and on the other side
of the road
a shrub stretched out green and long
like a sausage
that was lying next to the road
and I would love
to have a lane like that
next to my driveway.
poem by Gert Strydom
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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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I Was Lonely Outside The World Of The Anthologized Poets
I WAS LONELY OUTSIDE THE WORLD OF THE ANTHOLOGIZED POETS
I was lonely outside the world of the anthologized poets-
I was lonely in not being good enough -
I was lonely in not being known -
I was lonely in having given a lifetime to never having been heard-
I was lonely in not being among the voices that will endure-
They were there on those heights
And all around them words of praise were being sung-
And I was lonely alone with my own little voice
Crying and crying and crying
Trying to write and afraid-
A lifetime had been given
And they were there on the glad height
And down in the low alone of my own lost words
Writing and writing forever my own lonely life away
I was as much alone as someone who would have been born in poetry and never was.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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