A Bow And An Arrow..
The bent bows are the eye brows,
the Piercing eyes are the arrows,
Those who are shot, still trapped,
Punctured are not their thoughts,
Flowered arrow does its works,
Both are in trance for a while,
and then they are as cloudy as the nerds,
They seem to understand the facts,
But the doubts erupt as volcanoes,
Hold their hands, they douse it,
Arguments arrive after each sentence,
Bonded minds make an agreement,
They are the birds, flying high and wide,
Paired up as one to leave the legacy,
Their nests are clean and then dirtied,
Not their love, it is as white and pure as,
the snow of Everest.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Your Children
Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you.
And though they are with you, they belong not to you.
You may give them your love but not your thoughts.
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
Which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.
You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite.
And He bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let your bending in the archer's hands be for happiness;
For even as He loves the arrow that flies,
So He loves the bow that is stable.
poem by Khalil Gibran
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Take Me Higher
(narada michael walden/s.j.dakota/germaine)
Take me to that place
Higher
Go, hold on
Go
(take me higher)
(take me higher)
In my mind I see the possibilities
When it comes to love there are no boundaries
Do you think that you and I can work it out
Thats what true loves about
Baby we can find an answer if we look inside our hearts
Love will be there waiting for us
Baby we can rise above it if we leave our doubts behind us
We can learn to fly high above us
Theres a place up in the sky
Where the sun is shining
Take me higher
(take me higher)
Theres a place I long to be
Where the birds are flying
Take me higher
(take me higher)
See it on the news, theres trouble eveywhere
Gotta reach out show somebody that you care
It aint good to let the bad news get us down
Lets spread some love around
Even if you want to go there
To a place above the clouds
Got to feel the power of love (power of love)
Baby we can rise above it if we leave our doubts behind
We can learn to fly high above us
Theres a place up in the sky
Where the sun is shining
Take me higher
(take me higher)
Theres a place I long to be
Where the birds are flying
Take me higher
(take me higher)
(repeat)
You gotta reach out
Feel the power of love
Show somebody you care
Take me...
Oh baby
Higher
Take me higher
Theres a place up in the sky
Where the sun is shining
Take me higher
(take me higher)
Theres a place I long to be
Where the birds are flying
Take me higher
(take me higher)
(repeat)
Take me higher
Take me, take me
Take me higher
(take me higher)
(repeat three times)
Theres a place up in the sky
Where the sun is shining
Take me higher
(take me higher)
Theres a place I long to be
I want to go flying
(take me higher)
song performed by by Diana Ross
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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That Summer That Love
The summer sun
warmed you and Jane
as you made your way
up the dried up
muddy track
towards the Downs
the sunlight
pouring through
the branches of trees
overhead
you thinking
of your work
on the farm below
the day before
the weighing of the milk
the clearing out
of cowsheds
and the cowman saying
what do you want to do
when you leave school?
to be a cowman
you replied
you want to get yourself
a proper job
you don't want to do this
for a living
and Jane said
breaking you
from your thoughts
I want to show you
where I used to sit on the Downs
and where I used to collect
bones and skeletons of rabbits
and moles and birds
and you turned
and looked at her
as she walked beside you
her hands swinging
as she walked
her black hair tied
in a small bun
at the back
and her yellowy flowered dress
capturing your eyes
my father works in the woods
further along
you said
he works in the ditches
and hedgerows too
she bent down
and plucked a flower
that's Squinancywort
she said
showing you the flower
as she twirled it
between fingers
she offered it to you to smell
lovely isn't it?
you nodded
and carried the scent
with you as you both
moved on up the track
she turned to you and said
your dad does well
at his work for a townie
and you smiled
and so did she
and you captured
her lips parting
and her bright white teeth
and her eyes
moving over you
like a soft caress
and she whispered
turning her head away
do you love me?
and you whispered
yes.
poem by Terry Collett
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Just A Man
Sky is clear tonight
Sky is clear tomorrow
A star is out
I reach for one to sparkle in my hand
A star is out
I will not touch you, I am just a man
Sky is clear tonight
Sky is clear tomorrow
And every night I shut my eyes
So I dont have to see the light
Shining so bright
Ill dream about a cloudy sky,
A cloudy sky
Ill dream about a cloudy sky, a cloudy
Man was born to love-
Though often he has sought
Like icarus, to fly too high-
And far too lonely than he ought
To kiss the sun of east and west
And hold the world at his behest-
To hold the terrible power
To whom only gods are blessed-
But me, I am just a man
And every night I shut my eyes
So I dont have to see the light
Shining so bright
Ill dream about a cloudy sky, a cloudy sky
And every night I shut my eyes
But now Ive got them open wide
Youve fallen into my hands
And now youre burning me
Youre burning me
song performed by by Faith No More
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Birds Live Peacefully
Birds, birds everywhere
flying through the sky without a care.
Reminding us how graceful life can be
as they fly from tree to tree.
Singing so very happily.
Singing songs of love and light
flying gracefully with delight.
Landing on their claws outstretched
landing in their straw filled nests.
Feeding their offspring worms from dirt
protecting them so they don't get hurt.
Pushing them to leave the nest
so they can fly like all the rest.
Flying high and flying low
they will be like their parents on the go.
Written by Suzae Chevalier on June 18,2012
poem by Suzae Chevalier
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Birds Bring Beauty
Birds, birds everywhere
flying through the sky without a care.
Reminding us how graceful life can be
as they fly from tree to tree.
Singing so very happily.
Singing songs of love and light
flying gracefully with delight.
Landing on their claws outstretched
landing in their straw filled nests.
Feeding their offspring worms from dirt
protecting them so they don't get hurt.
Pushing them to leave the nest
so they can fly like all the rest.
Flying high and flying low
they will be like their parents on the go.
Writenn by Christina Sunrise on June 18,2012
poem by Christina Sunrise
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Children Chapter IV
And a woman who held a babe against her bosom said, 'Speak to us of Children.'
And he said:
Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you, yet they belong not to you.
You may give them your love but not your thoughts.
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.
You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite, and He bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let your bending in the archer's hand be for gladness;
For even as he loves the arrow that flies, so He loves also the bow that is stable.
poem by Khalil Gibran
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Children
And a woman who held a babe against her bosom said, 'Speak to us of Children.'
And he said:
Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you, yet they belong not to you.
You may give them your love but not your thoughts.
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.
You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite, and He bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let your bending in the archer's hand be for gladness;
For even as he loves the arrow that flies, so He loves also the bow that is stable.
poem by Khalil Gibran
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Snow White Transparent
“Mirror… Mirror…”
Snow White stops
Looks down at
Her hand
Perfectly pale
Unblemished
Young and
Innocent
But damned
So damned
The wicked
Woman knew
Smiled and knew
“This is what you want”
Hands her the
Apple, poisoned
And red
No one knew
That Snow White
Knew, knew
The Truth
No one
Suspects her
Not Snow White
Pure, perfect
Snow White
“Mirror… Mirror…”
A brush bristles
Through her hair
Snow White looks
At her reflection
In the Mirror
Her mirror
The Wicked
Woman’s mirror
Snow White’s
Image smiles
Sadly at her
No hope left
“On the wall…”
He comes in
Princely in
His ways
Snow White does
Not look at
Him, not at him
Oh no
She cannot
She resents him
It is not apples
That are poisoned
But lips
“Snow…? ”
Without words
She undresses
Revealing glorious
Pale body
His to touch
Snow White
Watches his hands
Lower and closes
Her eyes
This is not love
Love is not—
Love is
“Seven little men…”
She falls into the
Dark corners of
Her mind
Where poison
Still chokes her
And there is
Nothing but
Death and silence
Oh, for the silence
Snow White turns
To look at The Mirror
And asks:
“Who is fairest of them all? ”
poem by Elizabeth Rebel
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Snow On Christmas(revised)
The snow comes down so gently like God’s Love for Mary and for us
When he gave us Jesus and Mary remained pure as snow.
Jesus was conceived in her virgin’s womb.
Snow is clean and bright as her love for Jesus Christ.
Snow is soft like the skin of Jesus
a newborn baby on Christmas Night.
The snow flying gently to the ground like a white dove
which come without a sound this reminds me of the Holy Spirit.
Also the angels wings of Gabriel Who told Mary,
She was chosen by God to bear his son.
poem by Meg Harrison
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Weekend To Remember
please don't look at me light that
don't gaze at me that long
i have a weekend to remember
i cannot yet tell you
about the excitement of the place
the sun there and the sea
one day it rains and then the rainbow
on time came
i smile and take the walk of my life
on the white sands and
calming waves
the sounds of folding and unfolding
palms of the water
the shells singing silence in the winds
thoughts taking wings
and flying to the high mountains
trees that know how to dance with me
dews on early morning so pearly
don't take a hard look at me
just understand
i am on my trance again
on some things that i want to become true.
go away and understand, i know how to manage
my life, i know, i know,
i can still sit and stand and dance and sleep.
these basics of living
leave them all to me.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Life of a Flower
As the snow melts with upmost intensity
Out of the white field under the blues sky a green spot rises
The rise of a legacy of a summer, a legacy of blooms
The sun rises and white is no more
White once now is green, green signs of life
Life that will live for a summer time, summer that never ends
From green to yellow, yellow that perfects the view
View out of sight, so far away you can see the Earth curves
From yellow that blinds the eyes to cloudy skies
Now is time again, say good bye till summer comes back
From brown, the name of a legacy that lasted a life time
Brown surrenders to white, so smooth takes it by force
And Earth sleeps again under the white blanket
Forever and ever life lives and dies
Perfection is all.
Checking Love
when you arrive at night
i am buried in my heap of paper works
still,
when i go to bed because it is too late
you iron
clothes and sort what is clean
from what is dirty,
i am buried in sleep and you wake up
in the middle of this darkness
to see if there are birds flying in the horizon of trees
if stars are alive if
they still glitter.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Sonnet XVII: His Mother Dear Cupid
His mother dear Cupid offended late,
Because that Mars grown slacker in her love,
With pricking shot he did not throughly more
To keep the pace of their first loving state.
The boy refus'd for fear of Mars's hate,
Who threaten'd stripes, if he his wrath did prove:
But she in chafe him from her lap did shove,
Brake bow, brake shafts, while Cupid weeping sate:
Till that his grandame Nature pityijng it
Of stella's brows make him two better bows,
And in her eyes of arrows infinite.
Oh how for joy he leaps, oh how he crows,
And straight therewith like wags new got to play,
Falls to shrewd turns, and I was in his way.
poem by Philip Sidney
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Jiji Arrows of Love
What am I?
a novice in game of love?
a flying bird or a dove?
Jiji is hunting my heart
Arrows of love thrown at me
I run but I fall on my knees
JiJi hear my sigh and plea
I want to sing
I want to be free
Oh your last arrow has landed
I am in the field of love stranded
Jiji come closer and see
I am in your love nest trapped
I have been captured
In your arms I will surrender
poem by Sherif Monem
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First Shot
I said I was hunting deer. I knew the trails, the split tracks and pellets of shit; circles
where they bedded down together. I faced a buck once, for almost ten minutes I think;
I moved first and it left me. I ran home to think.
I had a bow, target arrows, a target on straw. My father said be careful, and I was, but
I sneaked my bow and arrow to the woods. I surprised a tiny rabbit near a hole. It
froze. I had an arrow on it. I moved and it ran for the hole. I never shot.
They had a blanket, in a clearing of wiry grass that sloped to the north. He had her
down, her hands all over his back. I thought I knew her. They hadn't seen me. I notched
an arrow. His head turned my way, vague, like he needed his glasses, and maybe afraid.
I got scared, I wasn't sure what it was; I shot my arrow, my first shot, wild I think, and ran.
I waited for something for weeks, for more than weeks. I couldn't answer questions. I
thought I saw her a few times, later. I never went back until I was sixteen, almost, and
nothing was there but I only stayed for a minute.
poem by Eric Torgersen
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Set them free..They will multiply..
Watching the birds is real fun,
no need dime, only the time,
colorful birds to colored birds,
chirping birds to singing birds,
flying birds to walking birds,
cunning birds to love birds,
Watching birds is just a lesson,
making mind to have a vision.
collect the twigs to make the nest,
one by one, they think the best,
choose the right tree,
just high and free,
Making the nest perfect,
without any single defect,
The birds toil together or alone,
all day long until it is done.
I bought two love birds,
that were kept in a cage.
Hung the cage under the balcony,
above the reach of dogs not felony.
chirping disturbed their sleep,
Nikko, the dog set them free.
Only two flew away,
but I have a few dozens now,
making their nests,
right in front of me, on the trees.
Watching the birds is real fun,
no need dime, only the time.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Snow...
I know not how I'll die.
I know not the time,
but what I do know
is that I will die.
It may not be tomorrow.
It may not be next year.
But what I do know
is that there will be snow.
I love snow.
It glitters and glissens.
I love snow.
It's like a blessin'.
Snow is pure.
Snow is white.
But most of all
it's a wonderful sight.
But the snow won't be pure.
The snow won't be white.
Because when I die
it will show a horrible sight.
poem by Michelle Dickson
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New Road
There‘s no shame in exhibiting love
No fame exuding hatred
We’re both trudging through tough trough
Let us call a spade a spade
What’s a bit of land one can’t plough?
For which, we’re getting red
There’re barren bellies millions! Sow
Seeds of hope, loads of bread
Weren’t we birds of one be’utiful bough
Broke who; our nests of gold?
Few rogues commanding our bows
It‘s time high we get bold
Let us flee out of these foul rows
Of malicious folds
And make deal of ideals above
Faiths, fears, cults, creeds and God
Let us wipe blood stains on white doves
Of peace and with pride hold
Them high in skies gleaming bright halos
On our newly paved road
(This is a structured poem, actually written addressing SAARC countries, especially our close neighbor (?)
poem by Sathya Narayana
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Paradise on the Rocks
I dwell in the mountains up high
Higher than the Petronas yet shy of Everest
In the land of the precious stones and rich shores
In the gold coast where the freedom for the black star began
In the land of oil and of greens where nature still lives
Love and freedom in this land are twins
Down the heights the people trade and mine
Men and birds soar over the rocky slopes with wings spread
As a hairy man, trees and grass cover nearly his entire face
Seen smiling he is, always, with eyes gleaming
The top of his head though not bald is clothed in white
Cloudy, misty and foggy intertwined with every branch
Up there, the air is pure and the herbs life
The ground is rich and the water mineral
The wind symphonic and the feels, oh dear, freezing…
This is where I dwell; this is where I am alive
My little place of harmony, my haven
I call this my paradise…my pied-à-terre
poem by Nicholas Boateng
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