Light Hearted William
Light hearted William twirled
his November moustaches
and, half dressed, looked
from the bedroom window
upon the spring weather.
Heigh-ya! sighed he gaily
leaning out to see
up and down the street
where a heavy sunlight
lay beyond some blue shadows.
Into the room he drew
his head again and laughed
to himself quietly
twirling his green moustaches.
poem by William Carlos Williams
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The Girl Who Loved Her Own Shadow
The girl who loved her own shadow
Once had a nightmare for all times.
She saw in it boys and men without shadows at all!
They were men indeed.
Men with muscles and moustaches as ever
But none had a shadow of their own!
Her father and brother were there
They too had no shadows of any size!
Scared and doomed she was
As she saw that her mother and elder sister
Too had either no shadows or they were very short!
But she saw her own shadow close to herself!
As the nightmare ended, she was seen
Lying in the flood of sweat.
But as she opened the window and she saw another sky
And her sun of resolution was there alone.
She walked along the gravel track
And saw and felt somebody following close to her.
It was her own shadow, another self of tall heights.
She was the first girl who loved her own shadow.
Look back never!
A shadow may be or may not be there.
Sleep not ever!
A dream and a nightmare chase us ever.
poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
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Moustaches hide the imperfections of the mouth.
Blow, Blow, Thou Winter Wind
Blow, blow, thou winter wind
Thou art not so unkind
As man's ingratitude;
Thy tooth is not so keen,
Because thou art not seen,
Although thy breath be rude.
Heigh-ho! sing, heigh-ho! unto the green holly:
Most freindship if feigning, most loving mere folly:
Then heigh-ho, the holly!
This life is most jolly.
Freeze, freeze thou bitter sky,
That does not bite so nigh
As benefits forgot:
Though thou the waters warp,
Thy sting is not so sharp
As a friend remembered not.
Heigh-ho! sing, heigh-ho! unto the green holly:
Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly:
Then heigh-ho, the holly!
This life is most jolly.
poem by William Shakespeare
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Memories In Yellow
In August, she hung yellow curtains in the window
She danced and sang along to the radio
She flung paint across a canvas and
Laughed when the walls were splattered
And when she awoke in his arms
They were bathed in the yellow light from the window.
In August, she put yellow flowers on the table
She smiled at the fingered shadows they cast on the floor
She sketched them on every page of a notebook and
Drew them in the margins of her newspaper
And when she looked into the mirror
She saw yellow flowers reflected in the glass.
In August, a yellow cat lived in the alleyway
She scratched its ears until it purred
She took photographs of the sunlight on its fur and
Thought about beginnings and endings
And, in the dark of the night, lost in dreams,
She journeyed with the yellow cat to desert sands.
December comes
Curtains fall,
lovers leave.
Flowers fade,
mirrors crack.
Cats wander,
and deserts
become oceans.
poem by Frumious Bandersnatch
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I'm The Pied Piper
As soon as he turned it on
The wind outside of his room
Stirred up for a few seconds
He thought to himself
"i'll climb out my window
And go sit out there with my radio"
Out the window he went
Sitting against a small stump
Behind some flowerbeds
The light from his bedroom window he could still see
The music of bach was playing
After a while it began to sound distant
As the young prince gazed at this radio on his knee
The music was floating away from his hearing
What could be happening
He took it off of his knee
And put the radio to his ear
Nothing happened
Then the transistor left his hands
And was floating in the mid-air
Two feet off the ground
As the prince laughed
It suddenly turned around
And it was light green phosphourous in color
Dancing back and forth
The magic transistor
Started moving down his path
He could hear the sound out
Like nothing he had ever heard before
The trees were getting closer together
And flowers glowed with tinges of magic light
As he followed thinking to himself
"what's going on?"
The transistor lifted slowly
Up to the top of a little tree
And sat there
While it slowly became louder
To where the prince could hear it clearly
Fireflies shot across the path in front of the prince
He turned around and couldn't see the light from his window
There he was watching all alone all by himself
He got a hunch to get back to his room
And he turned and ran right back
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Those Green Fields Of Kilmeedy
Those green fields of Kilmeedy I do remember still
They meet the gorse and bracken at the foot of Clara hill
A place of peace and beauty with mountains all around
Scarce touched by man's pollution where Nature's joys abound.
Even in summer in Kilmeedy the dawn comes with a chill
But skylark he is piping above the bracken hill
Through Spring and through the Summer he sings all through the day
And I fancy I can hear him o'er mountains far away.
The robin he is piping on flowering hawthorn tree
Across the miles of distance his music comes to me
And dunnock on the hedgerow and dipper in the stream
And song thrush piping gaily on ash by old bohreen.
All through the Spring and Summer the wildering flowers are seen
But green fields of Kilmeedy not always quite so green
In November and December the winds of Winter blow
And January and February bring frost and sleet and snow.
In mid March in Kilmeedy the first wildflowers appear
And weather still quite chilly though days of bloom are near
But April brings her blossoms and leaves behind her green
And May comes o'er the mountain the summer beauty queen.
Those green fields of kilmeedy I see them every day
And I hear the skylark piping o'er hillsides far away
And dunnock on the hedgerow and the dipper in the stream
And those green fields of Kilmeedy have never looked so green.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Foiled Again
Sitting up once again...In my bedroom
Shaking hand holds ugly head...In my bedroom
Wish I may wish I might...In my bedroom
Have this wish I wish tonight...In my bedroom
[Chorus:]
At night when you turn out the light, think of me, smile and feel all right
And when you lay your head down to sleep, may I be the one who fills your dreams...
Are you lying wide awake?...In your bedroom
Are you trying to fall asleep?...In your bedroom
Cuz your not thinking about me...In your bedroom
If you were you'd wish those thoughts would leave you...In your bedroom
[Chorus:]
At night when you turn out the light, you wonder what it was you thought you liked.
And you ask yourself what did you see, In an idle hollow fool like me
I'm not the one who fills my dreams...
song performed by by Eve 6
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Reaping Corn
Reaping corn
Penning through words
Escaping the way
Deducting money
Shaving moustaches
Stroke off my name.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Disconnected
I watch you stumble through the morning
I watch you stumble home at night
Silhouetted by a sun without sunlight
I've watched you walk straight through an evening
When you're laden with the day
And the light of the moon, it only gets in your way
From a bedroom window I was anyone
And the street I look upon is my runaway
But I'm connected to the places I don't feel connected from
I'm connected to the place that I don't feel like I'm from
This is the kind of town where everyone knows each other
And everyone hates that they know each other
And no one is getting any younger
From my bedroom window I was anyone
Every street I look upon could be a runaway
But I'm connected to the places I don't feel connected from
I'm connected to the place that I don't feel like I'm from
I'm connected to the places I don't feel connected from
I don't feel connected from
So move on here now
You don't belong here now
You don't belong
You'll never belong
You don't belong here now
You don't belong here now
You don't belong here now
You don't belong
You'll never belong
You don't belong here now
song performed by by Idlewild
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Spring in Sweden
Spring has finally reached Sweden too
warm rays of sun shining over me and you
Snowbells and bluebells in bloom
buttercupps, and tulips soon
Over half a year of winter is gone
half a year with no light, nothing shone
Grass turns slowly from brown to green
so does the trees, now they are seen
By us who wanders in the woods
weather too hot for our hoods
Blessed be the spring so sweet
blessed be the spring so neat
poem by Lisa thecountrygirl Timmermand
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Ch 08 On Rules For Conduct In Life - Admonition 09
Do not pity the weakness of a foe because when he gains strength he will not spare thee.
Boast not of thy moustaches when thou seest thy foe is weak.
There is marrow in every bone, a man in every coat.
Cloony The Clown
I'll tell you the story of Cloony the Clown
Who worked in a circus that came through town.
His shoes were too big and his hat was too small,
But he just wasn't, just wasn't funny at all.
He had a trombone to play loud silly tunes,
He had a green dog and a thousand balloons.
He was floppy and sloppy and skinny and tall,
But he just wasn't, just wasn't funny at all.
And every time he did a trick,
Everyone felt a little sick.
And every time he told a joke,
Folks sighed as if their hearts were broke.
And every time he lost a shoe,
Everyone looked awfully blue.
And every time he stood on his head,
Everyone screamed, 'Go back to bed!'
And every time he made a leap,
Everybody fell asleep.
And every time he ate his tie,
Everyone began to cry.
And Cloony could not make any money
Simply because he was not funny.
One day he said, 'I'll tell this town
How it feels to be an unfunny clown.'
And he told them all why he looked so sad,
And he told them all why he felt so bad.
He told of Pain and Rain and Cold,
He told of Darkness in his soul,
And after he finished his tale of woe,
Did everyone cry? Oh no, no, no,
They laughed until they shook the trees
With 'Hah-Hah-Hahs' and 'Hee-Hee-Hees.'
They laughed with howls and yowls and shrieks,
They laughed all day, they laughed all week,
They laughed until they had a fit,
They laughed until their jackets split.
The laughter spread for miles around
To every city, every town,
Over mountains, 'cross the sea,
From Saint Tropez to Mun San Nee.
And soon the whole world rang with laughter,
Lasting till forever after,
While Cloony stood in the circus tent,
With his head drooped low and his shoulders bent.
And he said,'THAT IS NOT WHAT I MEANT -
I'M FUNNY JUST BY ACCIDENT.'
And while the world laughed outside.
Cloony the Clown sat down and cried.
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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A Country Path in Late Spring
The path of mossy ground nestled
In between maternal hedgerows,
That overgrew atop, dimming down
The brilliance of the day.
Embosomed, a calm-cool vision –
Abstract takes of nature, in
Leaf-spattered green shades;
Stem-speckled brown hues;
Shards of sunlight percolating
Through the random flaws to
Up glittering sprites upon the leaves.
And avian chatter bounced along the burrow,
Smattered by the crosstalk
Of busybody insects;
But outside the green comfort zone,
Other worlds of other sounds of other life
Otherwise gave a hint of
Other dozy goings on.
Hawthorn filled the air,
Filled the nose,
Filled the head –
Pungency had overpowered all –
Gave the late-spring-early-summer haze.
Here and there a break of colour:
Odd bluebells – escapees from nearby woods –
Blue-blushing bell faces glancing down,
Aware of their erectness in the stem;
The flaming wing of red admirals
Broke through a hedge hole to
Break up the calm backdrop,
While flitting blue tits gave
To greater-bodied animation.
Nature’s warm narration –
The undertones of life.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
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spring nature nature spring; spring nature nature spring
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Lost Soul
Singing a maudlin,
the boozer was dancing
before the temple
and twirling his moustaches often.
He bit his tongue at times
and scared at those who pass,
showing his point finger.
“ I had my trust in you
but you made me sad and mad,
cuddling the culprit worst.
I pulled my knife from the sheath
and killed you both at dead of night.
Who would dare to tell the police?
But I couldn’t quell my conscience, Sir!
It keeps me always awake
and eludes my catch to hack.
I don’t say I am honest
But why I killed my wife
to leave my children in strife? ”
Pulling me towards him,
told me his tragic tale.
I patted on his back
and showed his children standing there.
A lost soul is not lost for ever.
For a new lease of life we must try our best.
---------
poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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Moon Shadows
Moon shadows drift across
my bedroom window cill at night
just as the sandman sprinkles
his stardust dreams around my head.
I spiral into loving dreams
with you within my arms.
The moon shadows play
across my window
while I am deep in dreams
that sends me to exotic places
with you always at my arm.
We run along sandy beaches
where the palm trees grow.
The island of my dreams
that always comes to me
when the moon shadows show.
2 December 2009
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Morning Message From Love
woke up in a tired body
after an endless night it did precede
exhausted by all homework and books
all the subjects, all the materials I took
nothing was left, but me
laying and so much in weary
i tried to sit on bedside hardly
though it could be done effortlessly
dark was this room indeed
here there was none but me
alone, but there were two friends
the cellphone and the nightstand
still half conscious i sighed
a deep breath inhaled i
from the window a flicker of light
and was inhaled by my eyes
the cellphone alarmed noisily
that a message was sent to me
i opened the inbox and see
what this day would bring to me
i looked and smiled at the screen
the message was displayed in
i stood opening the window
letting the sunshine flowed
a new day came to see me
why wouldn't i greet it warmly?
sun was there, love was there
with all they had to share
with me..
poem by Kite Remedy
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[revised 11-19-09] Getting Through October and Beyond
What was it about October
That made us think
Spring would not be coming back?
The weather rattled at us,
Leaves fell,
Leaving us feeling
It's not going to get any better.
No amount of experience or
Logic will helped,
Spring last year didn't help,
When the shorter days of
Fall and Winter closed in.
Beyond October?
What was it about October
That assured us
Spring will be coming back?
The weather hinted of changes,
Leaves brave enough
To let go one by one,
Or be pushed in bunches by the wind
Took momentary flight, and
Abandoned their accustomed tree.
They made room for new buds
Provided cover for the soil and
Food for those below.
Lots of work to get ready
For Spring next year and to
Just get through Fall and Winter.
Then came November.
November brought
What October teased.
October warned us,
Rushed at us,
Then seemed to pull back
Like a gentle rolling surf.
On a rough November day
A wave rushed over our heads
Knocked us down and threatened
To pull us far out to sea.
As we floated
We saw the shore disappear.
No one will come to help.
They won't even know we're gone.
'I've got to get to December! '
We scream.
'New Year's Day! Easter!
May Day! MAY DAY! '
And we will
Even if we have no idea
Why or how
poem by Tom J. Mariani
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Threnody For A Poet
Not in the ancient abbey,
Nor in the city ground,
Not in the lonely mountains,
Nor in the blue profound,
Lay him to rest when his time is come
And the smiling mortal lips are dumb;
But here in the decent quiet
Under the whispering pines,
Where the dogwood breaks in blossom
And the peaceful sunlight shines,
Where wild birds sing and ferns unfold,
When spring comes back in her green and gold.
And when that mortal likeness
Has been dissolved by fire,
Say not above the ashes,
'Here ends a man's desire.'
For every year when the bluebirds sing,
He shall be part of the lyric spring.
Then dreamful-hearted lovers
Shall hear in wind and rain
The cadence of his music,
The rhythm of his refrain,
For he was a blade of the April sod
That bowed and blew with the whisper of God.
poem by Bliss William Carman
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The Silence Of Love
You talk not about your love,
For the greatest love
May envelop itself
In a lacy veil of serene secrecy.
You talk not about your love
Just look into my eyes
Silently, long
While the time resounds
And then recedes slowly
To distant shores of indigo seas
In my soul.
The wind carries quietly the clouds
No sound shatters the still of zephyr.
You talk not about your love
Only the heart throbs loudly.
Do you hear it?
A heavy bronze bell
Tolls involuntarily
In the placid interior
Of the sombre belfry
And the tower trembles
Soars in its immobility.
Elated, you and I walk wordlessly
In the deserted boulevard.
Like the snow of spring I melt
In your presence
While timid shadows
Of my dense vulnerability
Coagulate silently in the sunlight
Darkening the asphalt pavement
Of the afternoon street.
The wind carries quietly the clouds
No sound shatters the still of zephyr.
You talk not about your love
Though its flames burn my flesh.
Then the hours pass by
And wondrous stars flicker
In a magical night.
But now
I am alone in my room
Listening to a violin concerto
Of the Butterfly Lovers
A poignant story
Of eternal love
On a Compact Disc
That you gave me.
poem by Paul Hartal
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Betrayed
I WENT back to our home to-day
That still its robe of roses wore;
My feet took the old easy way,
And led me to our door.
And you are gone and never more
Those little feet of yours will come
To meet me at the open door,
The threshold of our home.
The door unlatched did not protest:
I entered, and the silence drew
My steps towards the little nest
That once I shared with you.
There lay your fan, your open book,
Your seam half-sewn, and I could see
The window whence you used to look--
Yes, once you looked--for me.
Print of your little head caressed
Our pillow still, and on the floor
Still lay, dropped there when last you dressed,
The scarf and rose you wore.
All should have spoken of you plain,
Yet, when I bade the silence tell
Of you, my bidding was in vain,
I could not break its spell.
The silence would not speak, my dear,
Till the last level light grew dim;
Then, in the twilight I could hear;
The silence spoke--of him.
poem by Edith Nesbit
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