The Drought
Grasses are parched
dry as dust
a cancer spreading
dry rust
locust swarms perish
of hunger and thirst
my green patch of lawn
the last
on this once great continent
faces the unblinking sun
and me
mad and sunstroked
holding the waterless hose
melting in my hand.
poem by Vince Gullaci
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Ode To The Green Grass Of Summer
green green grass
spreading slowly on the path
of my feet
treaded upon
such green beauty
covering once
this dust, this mud,
this plain expanse
of ugliness
i sing the song
of green green grasess
spreading thinly on
the pavement
grasshoppers
and ants and some worms
yes, the green green grasses
are still their home
patches of earth
from far
you may see
this stitches
of moss
a landscape
of this earth
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Cancellation
The innocence is like cancer,
A cancellation of heaven
Wherever the world.
Cancer is a camera, a post
To be held in the hand.
The cameraman is gifted,
My warming of the shape is plenty.
Boiling and melting,
Snapping and curling,
My cancer spreads
And conceals itself
Until medicine looks at it,
The doctor connects.
Innocence is a way of cancer.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Prosperity and poverty
Hunger for food has been met;
Hunger for love has set in.
Hunger for power has been met;
Hunger for ethics has set in.
Hunger for lust has been met;
Hunger for faith has set in.
Thirst for knowledge has been met;
Thirst for innocence has set in.
Thirst for contacts has been met;
Thirst for concerns has set in.
Thirst for comfort has been met;
Thirst for compassion has set in.
Love, ethics, faith lost,
Innocence, concerns and compassion missing,
Despite food, power and lust,
Despite knowledge, comfort and compassion,
The soul will die a slow death
Long before the body succumbs.
The world will not die of poverty
But it will sure die of prosperity.
25.07.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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A butterfly
A butterfly can dance
Every flower gives hint
In joyful kindergarten's lawn.
Morning-dews now one-by-one perish
Quenching rising sun's thirst.
poem by Asif Andalib
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Lust has many exits
For the hunger to die,
we have to eat.
For the thirst to rest,
we have to gulp.
For the lust to rust,
we need no coitus.
There’re sub ways.
Even voyeur will do.
27.04.2001, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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To Expose
To expose
Lets take the watering hose
Washed cleaned
Shinny smooth
A babies bottom
When it is reviled
It has been sealed
With the wheel still spinning
Its like reliving the unforgiving
Like satan's heart
You just can't know
What is it made of?
Is it poison?
Is it the dust from all the rust?
With rain let it wash over us
To expose
Lets take the watering hose
Washed cleaned
Shinny smooth
A babies bottom
When it is reviled
It has been sealed
With the wheel still spinning
Its like reliving the unforgiving
Like satan's heart
You just can't know
What is it made of?
Is it poison?
Is it the dust from all the rust?
With rain let it wash over us.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Ice Cut In The Air
Ice cut in the air
Where dried out stalks
Stick through
Boone Pond.
Cattail’s long, green,
Knife-edge leaves
Bends three feet
With wind.
Shaken pads fold
Dried rust color
Locust leaves like bells.
Frog jump
As I approach.
Hand size turtles
Warm themselves
At bank’s end.
Shells of mallard eggs
Grinned into the soil.
poem by David E. Patton
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The Dumb Soldier
When the grass was closely mown,
Walking on the lawn alone,
In the turf a hole I found
And hid a soldier underground.
Spring and daisies came apace;
Grasses hid my hiding-place;
Grasses run like a green sea
O'er the lawn up to my knee.
Under grass alone he lies,
Looking up with leaden eyes,
Scarlet coat and pointed gun,
To the stars and to the sun.
When the grass is ripe like grain,
When the scythe is stoned again,
When the lawn is shaven clear,
Then my hole shall reappear.
I shall find him, never fear,
I shall find my grenadier;
But, for all that's gone and come,
I shall find my soldier dumb.
He has lived, a little thing,
In the grassy woods of spring;
Done, if he could tell me true,
Just as I should like to do.
He has seen the starry hours
And the springing of the flowers;
And the fairy things that pass
In the forests of the grass.
In the silence he has heard
Talking bee and ladybird,
And the butterfly has flown
O'er him as he lay alone.
Not a word will he disclose,
Not a word of all he knows.
I must lay him on the shelf,
And make up the tale myself.
poem by Robert Louis Stevenson
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The Barreness Of A Busy Life
Beware the barrenness of a busy life.
(Socrates)
bored as barren
a body that is bone-dry,
a walk in the desert,
dry as dust,
moistureless existence
lips parched,
a thirsty soul,
a life waterless
busy, busy, busy,
that is what you are.
beware, for soon
in seeking life
busy, busy, busy,
you lose it.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Green Grass Of Your Home...
they are the silent witnesses
of my first love
those spreading green grass of your home
away from mine
when we first kiss and when we finally made love
sweet juices flow on such blanket of green
so fresh then warm...
they shall be the same silent witness of my last breath
those wilting grasses of your home
away from mine
when we finally part and when the wreath is placed
above my home
away from yours
the elegy shall be said and the dirge shall be played
and the wilting grasses shall have heard
the sounds of my
final rest.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Green Grasses
Green beautiful grasses
Where lands the butterflies
Green grasshoppers just hopped
Greedily shining beautifully to be alive
Looking deeply in ones gazing eyes
And don't know how to say goodbye
Or tell ones flesh never to smile freely
With these green grasses
That smiles with a dog tooth
For flesh makes grasses ever green.
Green beautiful grasses
Just doesn't feel right
Growing on a burial ground
Across ones head
Having no yesterday,
And no to-morrow.
Forgetting thoughts, taught, time
Forgetting fortune, life and love
Lying at peace
With grasses growing all over ones head
Green beautiful grasses
Where I lay when I rise to the morning sun
Stretching legs during the burning ray
Forgetting about death or life
Feeling an angel
Angels cherish a background
Looking so beautiful,
A sight to see
A scene to show
How deep is a love….
written by: Onyeche Vincent Onyeka
© 2012
poem by Onyekachukwu Vincent Onyeche
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And So It Goes
A mansion on a hill is a lovely sight to see
But like any other house, its only temporary
Home is anywhere you choose to put your heart;
If theres no love inside, itll soon fall apart.
Ashes to ashes, dust into dust
Buildings will crumble, bridges will rust
Mountains will disappear, rivers will dry up
And so it goes with everything but love
And so it goes, with everything but love
You can drive around in a long limosine
If you dont know where youre going, it dont mean a thing
He whod walk a mile, just to hold an empty hand
Knows what it means, to be a wealthy man
Ashes to ashes, dust into dust
Buildings will crumble, bridges will rust
Mountains will disappear, rivers will dry up
And so it goes with everything but love
And so it goes, with everything but love
Worldly treasures will all pass away
Theres just one thing thats put here to stay
Ashes to ashes, dust into dust
Buildings will crumble, bridges will rust
Mountains will disappear, rivers will dry up
And so it goes with everything but love
And so it goes, with everything but love
song performed by by Nitty Gritty Dirt Band
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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His Brother’s Keeper
By his paths through the parched desolation,
Hot rides and the terrible tramps;
By the hunger, the thirst, the privation
Of his work in the further most camps.
By his worth in the light that shall search men
And prove – ay! And justify each –
I place him in front of all churchmen
Who feel not, who know not – but preach!
poem by Henry Lawson
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And So It Goes
This song was first released on the stonehaven sunrise album. it is the only album it has been released on.
A mansion on a hill is a lovely sight to see
But like any other house its only temporary
Home is anywhere you choose to put your heart
If theres no love inside, it will soon fall apart
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust
Buildings will crumble, bridges will rust
Mountains will disappear, rivers will dry up
And so it goes with everything but love
You can drive around in a long imousine
If you dont know where youre going, it dont mean a thing
He whod walk a mile just to hold an empty hand
Knows what it means to be a wealthy man
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust
Palaces will crumble, bridges will rust
Mountains will disappear, rivers will dry up
And so it goes with everything but love
Worldly treasures will all pass away
Theres just one thing that was put here to stay
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust
Kingdoms will crumble, bridges will rust
Mountains will disappear, rivers will dry up
And so it goes with everything but love
Words and music by paul overstreet and don schlitz
song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lake Eliza
THE SAND was heavy on our feet,
A Christmas sky was o’er us,
And half a mile through dust and heat
Lake ’Liza lay before us.
‘You’ll have a long and heavy tramp’—
So said the last adviser—
‘You can’t do better than to camp
To-night at Lake Eliza.’
We quite forgot our aching shanks,
A cheerful spirit caught us;
We thought of green and shady banks,
We thought of pleasant waters.
’Neath sky as niggard of its rain
As of his gold the miser,
By mulga scrub and lignum plain
We’d tramp’d to Lake Eliza.
A patch to grey discoloured sand,
A fringe of tufty grasses,
A lonely pub in mulga scrub
Is all the stranger passes.
He’d pass the Lake a dozen times
And yet be none the wiser;
I hope that I shall never be
As dry as Lake Eliza.
No patch of green or water seen
To cheer the weary plodder;
The grass is tough as fencing-wire,
And just as good for fodder.
And when I see it mentioned in
Some local ADVERTISER,
’Twill make me laugh, or make me grin—
The name of ‘Lake Eliza.’
poem by Henry Lawson
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This Is The House
This is the house
This is the hill
This is the story - it's a little thing
A lock of hair
An invisible smoke trail
Nothing there but the dust and the rust
Oh/oh/oh everything changes
This is your picture (it's in black and white)
This is the family having a party
There's a crack in the ceiling
And there's an open door
Nothing there but the dust and the rust
Oh/oh/oh everything changes
song performed by by Eurythmics
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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From Where I Come From
slopes of the
mountains
and a small patch
of a plain
on the side
of the river
where the grasses
thicken
like armpits
there is
a hut there
and some
trees around
years
and years
we stayed there
like there is no other
home for us
but then
time comes and
leaving becomes
a must for
each of us
we left and
we followed the
direction of the
wind towards
the sea of our
freedom
and here i
am
writing about
what my
ancestors
thought
leave and take
a journey
and find the
real path
the meaning
that we attach
to ourselves
to the direction
of the wind
towards the sea
and then
do not ever
think of the patch
of plain again
or the grasses
it is the wind
that leads us
the wind
the wind and nothing but
the sound of
the wind
freedom.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Seventh Plague
and there came a time
when darkness covered the land,
and sucked at the souls
of the living.
and the darkness had faces
insulated in plastic tombs,
waving flags and rhetoric,
thriving on despair.
and the lips of the dying
were parched with thirst;
bodies thrown in the great fires,
melted into vapor.
and the promise of apathy
came to be with violence.
the carcass of the eagle lay rotting,
feathers lost to the infidel wind...
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Living A Clean Life
the grasses of the garden
are trimmed
and it looks so clean
and neat as it keeps on spreading
its capacity for longing
i wonder if we can be like the green grass
if we can be like the white sky
so beautiful yet true to their nature.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Tribute to Terry Fox (in iambic dimeter)
While just a teen,
And Cancer struck,
They took a leg
To save his life!
He liked to run
And loved to win;
But Cancer came
To play a game!
Now Earth was hell!
Yet, Fox would run
A marathon
For Cancer’s sake!
His aim was high-
To raise a fund
For Cancer’s fight,
Despite his plight!
But half-way through,
His Cancer spread
To both his lungs,
Despite the drugs!
He covered miles,
Before Life’s end;
Undaunted till
The last, he stayed!
Posthumously,
He turned so great;
His one-legged walk
For Cancer’s sake
Earned him a name
Indelible!
He is ‘alive’!
His run goes on
All o’er the world
In Cancer’s name!
The world had lost
A lad so young
Courageous
Exemplary!
poem by John Celes
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