Ripples
Down the dusty road,
in tattered rags,
He came,
weary,
wilted,
and
withered.
Body bent with age,
bones sticking out of the flabby skin,
with a tremor
running down his limbs,
and with expectant eyes,
He waited at my doorstep.
No words came out from pursed lips
But,
in mute language
begged for alms.
I held his shrivelled hand,
helped him ascend the steps.
Like a child obeying it's Elder
He sat on a chair in the patio.
The sumptuous fare, served before,
he surveyed with eyes
bulging out in utter disbelief,
and greedily devoured
every bit of morsel.
A rare gleam lighted up his face.
With hands folded in benison
He stood up and silently took leave.
I watched him stumble
along the country track
and fade away in the distance.
Ripples of joy stirred my mind
in ever widening circles
as, a pebble idly tossed
cause ripples in still waters
................
Over a random act of kindness
idly tossed.......
poem by Valsa George
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Concentric
Pebble tossed into waters deep
Ripples awakened… from gentle sleep
Concentric rings of force in search
Of mossy banks ‘gainst which to lurch
And said stone sinks deep…deep
To mossy floor…watched by perch
…then seen no more…
Small rock I tossed, wraps silt around
Then snuggles deep into muddy ground
And sudden silence, not a peep!
It calmly falls into stony sleep
On mossy floor…in water deep
To visions of rapids and craggy shore
Watched by tadpoles
…then seen no more…
Pebble tossed into waters dank
By chance and fate, and cosmos swept
At random picked from rocky bank
Like life and Nature's mysteries kept
By chance and fate, by love and hate
We're children not of choice, but chance…
Given only a summary glance
Then seen no more
…no more…
poem by David Whalen
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How Beautiful You Are
You want to know why i hate you?
Well i'll try and explain...
You remember that day in paris
When we wandered through the rain
And promised to each other
That we'd always think the same
And dreamed that dream
To be two souls as one
And stopped just as the sun set
And waited for the night
Outside a glittering building
Of glittering glass and burning light...
And in the road before us
Stood a weary greyish man
Who held a child upon his back
A small boy by the hand
The three of them were dressed in rags
And thinner than the air
And all six eyes stared fixedly on you
The father's eyes said "beautiful!
How beautiful you are!"
The boy's eyes said
"how beautiful!
She shimmers like a star!"
The childs eyes uttered nothing
But a mute and utter joy
And filled my heart with shame for us
At the way we are
I turned to look at you
To read my thoughts upon your face
And gazed so deep into your eyes
So beautiful and strange
Until you spoke
And showed me understanding is a dream
"i hate these people staring
Make them go away from me!"
The fathers eyes said "beautiful!
How beautiful you are!"
The boys eyes said
"how beautiful! she glitters like a star!"
The child's eyes uttered joy
And stilled my heart with sadness
For the way we are
And this is why i hate you
And how i understand
That no-one ever knows or loves another
Or loves another
song performed by by Cure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Little Ripples
On a tranquil sea.
Are they really that calm?
Can I cross them,
Like a bump in the road.
Do I find the strength
Like in youthful naivety?)
To speed on through
Till one overtakes me
In my mind.
Little ripples.
They scare me so.
I keep swimming day by day.
Eyes just above the ripples.
Little ripples, Little ripples
Be kind to my mind!
The salt water relaxation
Is taking me away
From earthly cares.
But how many more ripples
Can I surmount?
Before I give up
And just become a memory
In peoples minds`.
poem by Peter Vealey
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Ripple
If my words did glow with the gold of sunshine
And my tunes were played on the harp unstrung,
Would you hear my voice come thru the music,
Would you hold it near as it were your own?
Its a hand-me-down, the thoughts are broken,
Perhaps theyre better left unsung.
I dont know, dont really care
Let there be songs to fill the air.
Ripple in still water,
When there is no pebble tossed,
Nor wind to blow.
Reach out your hand if your cup be empty,
If your cup is full may it be again,
Let it be known there is a fountain,
That was not made by the hands of men.
There is a road, no simple highway,
Between the dawn and the dark of night,
And if you go no one may follow,
That path is for your steps alone.
Ripple in still water,
When there is no pebble tossed,
Nor wind to blow.
But if you fall you fall alone,
If you should stand then whos to guide you?
If I knew the way I would take you home.
La dee da da da, la da da da da, da da da, da da, da da da da da
La da da da, la da da, da da, la da da da, la da, da da.
song performed by by Grateful Dead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Never Had Time To Explain Myself
there were stones thrown
on the water and so there were ripples
like the pain
the pain goes on and on
like circles spreading beyond a certain point
of my tolerance
my tongue forms some words like hammers
to hit the nails right on their faces
to break the monotony of destruction
without rivets no dovetails but
the story has become like a code of the samurai
to you, and you swing your head like arms
in disbelief how can all these be true he is not like this
and you become like a bone in my throat and i like
to remove every obstruction one by one
but i do not have the pleasure of keeping you
my hands inside my pocket are mine alone
the pebble inside it is warm and smooth
my treasure and like my conscience i keep it
inside my heart. I keep seeing ripples and then
i do not mind how many stones how far they spread.
i owe no one and no one owes me
i am an island and i wish there are no boats docked on my shore
any time, somewhere, any more.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Windmills Of Your Mind
Round,
Like a circle in a spiral
Like a wheel within a wheel
Never ending or beginning
On an ever-spinning reel
Like a snowball down a mountain
Or a carnival balloon
Like a carousel that's turning
Running rings around the moon
Like a clock whose hands are sweeping
Past the minutes on its face
And the world is like an apple
Spinning silently in space
Like the circles that you find
In the windmills of your mind
Like a tunnel that you follow
To a tunnel of its own
Down a hollow to a cavern
Where the sun has never shone
Like a door that keeps revolving
In a half-forgotten dream
Like the ripples from a pebble
Someone tosses in a stream
Like a clock whose hands are sweeping
Past the minutes on its face
And the world is like an apple
Spinning silently in space
Like the circles that you find
In the windmills of your mind
Keys that jingle in your pocket
Words that jangle in your head
Why did summer go so quickly?
Was it something that I said?
Lovers walk along a shore
And leave their footprints in the sand
Was the sound of distant drumming
Just the fingers of your hand?
Pictures hanging in a hallway
Or the fragment of a song
Half-remembered names and faces
but to whom do they belong?
When you knew that it was over
Were you suddenly aware
That the autumn leaves were turning
To the colour of her hair?
Like a circle in a spiral
Like a wheel within a wheel
Never ending or beginning
On an ever-spinning reel
As the images unwind
Like the circles that you find
In the windmills of your mind
song performed by by Sting
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Windmills Of Your Mind
Round
Like a circle in a spiral
Like a wheel within a wheel
Never ending or beginning
On an ever-spinning reel
Like a snowball down a mountain
Or a carnival balloon
Like a carousel thats turning
Running rings around the moon
Like a clock whose hands are sweeping
Past the minutes of its face
And the world is like an apple
Whirling silently in space
Like the circles that you find
In the windmills of your mind
Like a tunnel that you follow
To a tunnel of its own
Down a hollow to a cavern
Where the sun has never shone
Like a door that keeps revolving
In a half-forgotten dream
Or the ripples from a pebble
Someone tosses in a stream
Like a clock whose hands are sweeping
Past the minutes of its face
And the world is like an apple
Whirling silently in space
Like the circles that you find
In the windmills of your mind
Keys that jingle in your pocket
Words that jangle in your head
Why did summer go so quickly?
Was it something that you said?
Lovers walk along a shore
And leave their footprints in the sand
Is the sound of distant drumming
Just the fingers of your hand?
Pictures hanging in a hallway
And the fragment of a song
Half-remembered names and faces
But to whom do they belong?
When you knew that it was over
You were suddenly aware
That the autumn leaves were turning
To the colour of her hair
Like a circle in a spiral
Like a wheel within a wheel
Never ending or beginning
On an ever-spinning reel
As the images unwind
Like the circles that you find
In the windmills of your mind
song performed by by Dusty Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Pebble
I toss a pebble in the brook.
I close my eyes then take a look.
I see the ripples in circular form
and watch it increase in size.
When the water becomes still again
I toss another stone.
Being able to do this continuous thing
while I’m all alone
calms my mind and brings me peace.
And I forget for these minutes of time
everything that troubles me.
And I understand that I’m
just like the pebble I throw.
I create an effect that I know
makes ripples on the folks I meet
wherever it is I go.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Uncle's Shave.
Uncle’s Shave.
You used to watch Uncle
shave in front of the small mirror
propped on the edge
of the kitchen sink,
his face lathered
in white soap,
his cutthroat razor
held just a short distance
from his skin
by his right hand,
as the other hand
held the skin taut
in preparation
of the razor’s slide.
You stood behind
fascinated,
your young eyes
searching the mirror’s world
of Uncle’s face
and the performers start.
Uncle watched you
in the mirror,
his lips breaking
into a small smile,
the razor held
just above his ear,
his eyes staring above
the shaving foam,
taking in
your fascinated gaze,
the open mouth,
your hands copying
Uncle’s motion
in pretend shave.
Uncle drew the razor down
his cheek in slow motion,
the face becoming visible
as the soap gave way,
the hand dipping
the razor in water
to rid of foam,
to begin again,
more soap removed,
more skin revealed.
You copied Uncle,
but not so skilled.
poem by Terry Collett
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Walking And Fishing
an early morning walk is like
a fishing venture where you sail with your boat alone on the waters
you wait and some ripples come
and then you remember
you catch fish, you stumble upon a stone
you take hold of each, and then the ripples are gone.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Word Obsession
I tossed and tossed upon my bed.
I could not sleep at all.
I watched the shadows outside my pane
and saw the leaves of fall
fluttering past in quicker flight
then all the minutes of my night.
The thoughts and images in my mind
kept me wide-awake.
They all took form and impatiently waited
for a brand new day to break.
They needed to come alive on a page,
the need to flee their cage.
And when I saw the first feint light
and all the shadows depart,
I left my bed with tired body,
but with happy heart.
For God had granted me another day
to pen my words and have my say.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Pebble Passage Through Water
pebble rough pebble
smooth seen
vein colour adored
which makes
most beautiful ripples
on dark water?
behold beauty
of ripples
forget not
sound of entry
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Old Mrs Truber
Always be yourself, Mrs Truber said,
Don’t be what you’re not. You sat
And studied her as she sat opposite
Stirring her cup of tea, took in her
Greying hair, her lined features, the
Way her bony fingers held the spoon
That stirred. People try to be like others
And find themselves out of their depth
And drown in the waters of lies and deceit,
She added, bringing her light blue eyes
On you. You began to speak, but the words
Were stuck in your throat. She smiled and
Tapped your hand. We are what we are,
She said, but often we are tempted to become
Actors wearing a different mask, trying to
Be a different person. You nodded slowly
And thought how beautiful she must have
Been once. Her eyes sparkled as she spoke,
And as she brushed her hand through her grey
Hair, you thought you caught a glimpse of her
Youthful self peering out of eyes like a child
Staring from windows in a locked up room.
You sipped your tea and watched as she brought
Her hands together as if in prayer. You closed
Your eyes, but when you opened them again,
The room was empty and she wasn’t there.
poem by Terry Collett
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Pebbles
The pebble I once tossed
Made ripples in the pool
Like gross word heard by all
Which made some quite so crossed
Tells me I'm such a fool
The pebbles in the sand
That I threw there to lie
Like half-truths that slipped by
Due to my sleight of hand
Might haunt me till I die
The pebbles in the grass
I scattered on the lawn
Like faults I left to spawn
Are now back doubly crass
And much flak it has drawn.
poem by Reyvrex Questor Reyes
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My english letter
When each white moon, her lantern idly swinging,
Comes out to join the star night-watching band,
Across the grey-green sea, a ship is bringing
For me a letter, from the Motherland.
Naught would I care to live in quaint old Britain,
These wilder shores are dearer far to me,
Yet when I read the words that hand has written,
The parent sod more precious seems to be.
Within that folded note I catch the savour
Of climes that make the Motherland so fair,
Although I never knew the blessed favour
That surely lies in breathing English air.
Imagination's brush before me fleeing,
Paints English pictures, though my longing eyes
Have never known the blessedness of seeing
The blue that lines the arch of English skies.
And yet my letter brings the scenes I covet,
Framed in the salt sea winds, aye more in dreams
I almost see the face that bent above it,
I almost touch that hand, so near it seems.
Near, for the very grey-green sea that dashes
'Round these Canadian coasts, rolls out once more
To Eastward, and the same Atlantic splashes
Her wild white spray on England's distant shore.
Near, for the same young moon so idly swinging
Her threadlike crescent bends the selfsame smile
On that old land from whence a ship is bringing
My message from the transatlantic Isle.
Thus loves my heart that far old country better,
Because of those dear words that always come,
With love enfolded in each English letter
That drifts into my sun-kissed Western home.
poem by Emily Pauline Johnson
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A River Pool
Sweet streamlet bason! at thy side
Weary and faint within me cried
My longing heart, In such pure deep
How sweet it were to sit and sleep;
To feel each passage from without
Close up, above me and about,
Those circling waters crystal clear,
That calm impervious atmosphere!
There on thy pearly pavement pure,
To lean, and feel myself secure,
Or through the dim-lit inter-space,
Afar at whiles upgazing trace
The dimpling bubbles dance around
Upon thy smooth exterior face;
Or idly list the dreamy sound
Of ripples lightly flung, above
That home, of peace, if not of love.
poem by Arthur Hugh Clough
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Ripples
Bluegirls come in every size
Some are wise and some otherwise,
They got pretty blue eyes.
For an hour a man may change
For an hour her face looks strange -
Looks strange, looks strange.
Marching to the promised land
Where the honey flows and takes you by the hand,
Pulls you down on your knees,
While youre down a pool appears.
The face in the water looks up,
And she shakes her head as if to say
That its the last time youll look like today.
Sail away, away
Ripples never come back.
Gone to the other side.
Sail away, away.
The face that launched a thousand ships
Is sinking fast, that happens you know,
The water gets below.
Seems not very long ago
Lovelier she was than any that I know.
Angels never know its time
To close the book and gracefully decline,
The song has found a tale.
My, what a jealous pool is she.
The face in the water looks up
She shakes her head as if to say
That the bluegirls have all gone away.
Sail away, away
Ripples never come back.
Theyve gone to the other side.
Look into the pool,
Ripples never come back,
Dive to the bottom and go to the top
To see where they have gone
Oh, theyve gone to the other side...
Sail away, away
Ripples never come back.
Gone to the other side.
Look into the pool,
The ripples never come back, come back,
Dive to the bottom and go to the top
To see where they have gone
Theyve gone to the other side
Ripples never come back
Sail away, away...
song performed by by Genesis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poetic Waters
behold this vast lake
silent serene waters
moonlight shimmers
upon life ephemeral
crystal cut wavelets
crystal wavelets dance
whisper in moonlit breeze
breeze blow cool upon
warm flesh homage perceiving
perceiving wisdom in vast
depth shimmer creative waters
in dawn’s yellow finger
light fresh beauty focus shapes
depth colour light touch
sound scent stir movement
life springs forth creates
creation dawn serenade
smell scent rhythm fresh
before hot overhead noon sun
time bestows eyes philosophy
divinity mind dream wakes
cast a pebble
upon surface
light reflective waters
watch time
spread wave rings
spread forth uniform
wave ripples spread forth
harmonic embrace minds
pebble sinks
deep embrace
welcomed by
wisdom’s waters
pebble rough
or smooth
passed on
seen in
third eye
memory
pebble or rock
shaped perception
is ever gone
seen no more
passage enfolds
enlightenment
shape formatic embraces
review rapid ripples harmonic
contemplate message symmetry
singer sing songs freeborn
on breeze string stir vibrations
remember
wisdom encoded
words
singer rock
are seen no more
poem by Terence George Craddock
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The Young Lieutenant
The young lieutenant's face was grey.
As came the day.
The watchers saw it lifting white
And ghostlike from the pool of night.
His eyes were wide and strangely lit.
Each thought in that unhallowed pit:
“I, too, may seem like one who dies
With wide, set eyes.”
He stood so still we thought it death,
For through the breath
Of reeking shell we came, and fire,
To hell, unlit, of blood and mire.
Tianced in a chill delirium
We wondered, though our lips were dumb
What precious thing his fingers pressed
Against his breast.
His left hand clutched so lovingly
What none might see.
All bloodless were his lips beneath
The straight, white, rigid clip of teeth.
His eyes turned to the distance dim;
Our sleepless eyes were all on him.
He stirred; we aped a phantom cheer.
The hour was here!
The young lieutenant blew his call.
“God keep us all!”
He whispered softly. Out he led;
And over the vale of twisted dead,
Close holding that dear thing, he went.
On through the storm we followed, bent
To pelt of iron and the rain
Of flame and pain.
His wan face like a lodestar glowed
Down that black road,
And deep among the torn and slain
We drove, and twenty times again
He squared us to the charging hordes.
His word was like a hundred swords.
And still a hand the treasure pressed
Against his breast.
Our gain we held. Up flamed the sun.
“The ridge is won,”
He calmly said, and, with a sigh,
“Thank God, a man is free to die!”
He smiled at this, and so he passed.
His secret prize we knew at last,
For through his hand the jewel's red,
Fierce lustre bled.
poem by Edward George Dyson
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Fade To Black
Sunday matinee
In a one dog town
Youre two seats away
I move two seats down
Wipe the tears from your eyes
The first kiss I stole
I walk you home
The credits roll
Fade to black
Fade to black
Fade to black
Fade to black
I hear my voice
On the telephone
But Im just running
The same old business
I feel like Im off
Somewhere so alone
Just watching us both
Running the distance
Watching us both
Slowly pull back
Fade to black
Fade to black
Fade to black
I come home
Clothes all over the place
Youre crying in the corner
Makeup running down your face
Your case is packed
The fight starts
I (? ? ? ? ? ) cursin
Baby is this the scene
Which we been rehearsin
Is this the one
Or have I lost track
Waitin for us
To fade to black
Fade to black
Fade to black
Fade to black
A face wet with shame
Eyes filled with hurt
I scream out your name
You rip my shirt
A small bungalow
A late afternoon
The sunlight falls
Like a bright veil
A camera pans
An empty room
The picture dissolves
Slowly pulls back
Fade to black
Fade to black
Fade to black
song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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