The Birds
The world begins again!
Not wholly insufflated
the blackbirds in the rain
upon the dead topbranches
of the living tree,
stuck fast to the low clouds,
notate the dawn.
Their shrill cries sound
announcing appetite
and drop among the bending roses
and the dripping grass.
poem by William Carlos Williams
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Related quotes
After A Long Walk
after a long walk
you stop a while
sitting on a dead tree
under the clouds
the sky turns dark
the clouds heavy and black
the rain begins to fall
heavily on you
you do not run for cover
you look up to the sky
you open your mouth
drink the rain & accept everything
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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You Hung Me
It's dead, it'd dead you killed it all
you fucked me over, you watched me fall
the life you sucked right out of me
dead you hung me from tree.
My blood spills out onto the ground
it screams, it cries without a sound
there is no victory here for me
dead you hung me from a tree.
You can run but you can't hide
you'll try to say it's suicide
torn apart for all to see
dead you hung me from a tree.
I'll prove to you your world is wrong
your power has gone on way to long
watch my body swing so free
dead you hung me from a tree.
Free from you I find my peace
in a grave that's six feet deep
the cage unlocked, I found the key
dead you hung me from a tree.
poem by CJA Anderson
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Can You Take Me To My Home?
The valley holds on, to murder
of moon, behind the trees.
It is dark and clouds are meditating.
You think of a perfect horror
and a poisoned arrow flies straight
into heart of a blissful sun.
It is red, splattered on the wounded sky,
scrorched by shrill cries of crows.
It is dawn.
You feel intense penetration of separateness,
from the beauty of a drop,
reflecting the wholeness of an ocean.
The stress starts breaking you.
Can you take me to my home, into abeyance?
My wakefulness, reaching by silence?
poem by Satish Verma
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Bohemian Folk-Song
(From the French)
The moon was in the sky,
Pale, pale her light had grown
I went into the forest
All alone.
All alone,
My heart was well-nigh glad,
But when I thought of thee
Grief came and made me sad.
It came with the winds of autumn
When the dead leaves drop from the tree,
Because thy heart hath forgotten
Thy lover afar from thee.
It came with the rain fast falling
Through the dead leaves again,
Because that over a dead love
The heart must weep like rain.
poem by Arthur Symons
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The Rain and the Girl
i just met a girl
who does not carry an umbrella
because she loves
the rain
i do not dare ask her
if she is crying,
if she cries
i am afraid i do not have the right to ask her why
when she gets near me
i have not dared looking into her eyes
i tell myself
it is none of my business
she begins to speak
but i who love the sonorous sound of the rain
has no time to listen
the sound of rain
is more than enough for me
to know
the meaning of pain
this time
after all those long years of listening
i do not think much
the rain speaks
actually for itself
now, i am
writing it
and then the girl is gone...
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Teint Neutre
WIDE downs all gray, with gray of clouds roofed over,
Chill fields stripped naked of their gown of grain,
Small fields of rain-wet grass and close-grown clover,
Wet, wind-blown trees--and, over all, the rain.
Does memory lie? For Hope her missal closes
So far away the may and roses seem;
Ah! was there ever a garden red with roses?
Ah! were you ever mine save in a dream?
So long it is since Spring, the skylark waking
Heard her own praises in his perfect strain;
Low hang the clouds, the sad year's heart is breaking,
And mine, my heart--and, over all, the rain.
poem by Edith Nesbit
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Baron Samedi
Ill show you man who walk on fire
And dont get burned
Dont get burned, dont get burned
He dont get burned
Ill show you man who tread on glass
And he dont get cut
Dont get cut, dont get cut
He dont get cut
You can take a knife and slit his throat
And he wont drop dead
Wont drop dead, wont drop dead
He wont drop dead
Been a ju-ju boy for a thousand years
And he aint cut yet
Aint cut yet, aint cut yet
He aint cut yet
Hold 'em
Youve got to crease 'em and fold 'em
Youve got to shape 'em and mould 'em
Take a piece of their soul man
Well he can take a little moonlight
Suck the poison from a snakebite
Movin round about midnight
Hes got the power of life
See the sacrifice of the virgin women
See the deadly snake and the headless chicken
Take a sip from dripping red
Make it with the living dead
Take you up when you feeling down
When youre sick he will come around
Takes his cures from out the ground
Hes the one who can hypnotize
And youll never believe your eyes
He can cause the dead to rise
song performed by by 10 Cc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shatters
If anything is as tranquil,
As the rain that cascades by will
Then it must be certain,
That one exceeds another in time.
Oh, the life of a rain,
Is as ephemeral as existence
It blooms with life and dies in senescence
And in utmost vulnerability, dead from defenses
The rain shatters,
And breaks in oblivion
Caught in a crippling submission,
Drenched from all the filth
The rain proclaims
And crowns the man as king
Of its own world, with gems on his head
And loses its nobility before a word is said
The rain submerges
The city in deep waters
And cries as profound as trenches
Will not be consumed by flames
I am stuck in prayers
Like I am jaded underneath the rain,
Because there’s something in the rain
That draws me near my pain.
poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr
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I Just Cut the Grass
I just cut the grass, and
the cat is checking out my work.
She’s critical, but helps out,
grazing contentedly on
sprigs of errant chaff
that I missed in my hurry
to finish. Clouds are gathering
on this cold, Holy Saturday.
Now I tarry in my webbed chair,
to sip a cold bottle of beer,
and wonder how green
the world has grown.
Knock-out roses pop
(their vermillion tips shout
in the more common green of fern and ivy)
and red cherries fill the green cherry-tree.
Soon from shattered shells
new birds will rise
as mockingbirds fly
to fill shrill beaks
with cherries.
poem by Steven Federle
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After Rain
The rain of a night and a day and a night
Stops at the light
Of this pale choked day. The peering sun
Sees what has been done.
The road under the trees has a border new
of purple hue
Inside the border of bright thin grass:
For all that has
Been left by November of leaves is torn
From hazel and thorn
And the greater trees. Throughout the copse
No dead leaf drops
On grey grass, green moss, burnt-orange fern,
At the wind's return:
The leaflets out of the ash-tree shed
Are thinly spread
In the road, like little black fish, inlaid,
As if they played.
What hangs from the myriad branches down there
So hard and bare
Is twelve yellow apples lovely to see
On one crab-tree.
And on each twig of every tree in the dell
Uncountable
Crystals both dark and bright of the the rain
That begins again.
poem by Edward Thomas
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Just Keep Walking
Green fields
Grass and earth
Broken bottles
Bricks and dirt
Sunshine soothing
Clouds are hazy
Dark street corners
Feeling lazy
Fast car driving
Sleek and modern
Public transit
Photos waiting
Blood and glass
Three points of rain
Carpet lining
Seats reclining
Clever words on smooth tongue talking
Shove it brother
Just keep walking
City penthouse
The kitchen living
A country home
Its a kitch living
Money can buy almost anything
But anythings nothing when youre dead
song performed by by INXS
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dirge in Woods
A wind sways the pines,
And below
Not a breath of wild air;
Still as the mosses that glow
On the flooring and over the lines
Of the roots here and there.
The pine-tree drops its dead;
They are quiet, as under the sea.
Overhead, overhead
Rushes life in a race,
As the clouds the clouds chase;
And we go,
And we drop like the fruits of the tree,
Even we,
Even so.
poem by George Meredith
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Early Mornin Rain
In the early morning rain
With a dollar in my hand
With an achin in my heart
And my pockets full of sand
Im a long way from home
And I miss my loved ones so
In the early morning rain
With no place to go
Out on runway number nine
Big seven-o-seven set to go
But Im stuck here in the grass
Where the cold wind blows
Now the liquor tasted good
And the women all were fast
Well there she goes my friend
Well shes rollin down at last
Hear the mighty engines roar
See the silver bird on high
Shes away and westward bound
Far above the clouds shell fly
Where the mornin rain dont fall
And the sun always shines
Shell be flyin oer my home
In about three hours time
This old airports got me down
Its no earthly good to me
cause Im stuck here on the ground
As cold and drunk as I can be
You cant jump a jet plane
Like you can a freight train
So Id best be on my way
In the early morning rain
You cant jump a jet plane
Like you can a freight train
So Id best be on my way
In the early morning rain
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Want to be Your Rain
Night
I'm alone
I'm awake
I'm waiting
Night sky
No moon, no stars
Dark clouds
About to rain
I want to be the rain
I want to rain
In to you
I want to be your rain
Drop by drop
Flood in to you
Fill in to you
Me the rain, my hope
Rain, Rain,
Rain Rain,
above from the sky,
To some you are
drops of love
or dropp of joy
like a perfect boy
You’re a sprinkle of blessing
like salad dressing.
Rain Rain,
Drip, drop, drip, drop,
On the window panes,
Thunder and lightning fills up the sky,
Creating a rock music concert
right outside your locked door,
But be careful,
It might make your head a bit sore.
Rain Rain,
with sun wind, and clouds,
and the seven beautiful colours.
Rain Rain,
It’s a sensation to dry droughts,
and takes out all our doubts,
So let the rain out!
poem by Mikaiila .S.
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Faces Of Death
Rode a motorbike in the rain
rode it wild and fast
soon as now I shall feel the pain
when I shatter like crystal glass.
I’m so tired I’m so tired
clouds race across the sky.
I saw a man I saw a man
a man about to die.
I’ve lived too long lived too long
too much I’ve seen have I.
As broken he lay dying
alone on an alien shore
the birds all stopped singing
till after, he would breathe no more.
Silence sharp profound
until rain fell like tears,
upon the ground.
Sheltering the peace he wears
a soothing healing sound
washing away anguish of cruel years.
To those who gave
understanding beauty love.
A blessing that will save
the end is not the grave.
To those who crushed or killed
the blood of innocence
cries loud and shrill.
This is no secret not to know
in humility teach and show.
In the hall of recorded memories,
restitution judgment is at hand.
Every act, anywhere, ever done,
conscience imposes on the man.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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To Different People
it is about to rain
the clouds are dark and heavy
along the road
two people are quarreling
about their having forgotten
the umbrella
the goat is tied on the tree
and the cow is looking
for escape
when the rain falls
the driver of the car that got
stuck on the canal
is cursing
on the other side
the children are playing and shouting
they all love
the first rain of summer
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Loneliness and Cries
How can the sky be so irreverently blue?
There shall never be a heavenly hue
that will ever fill my eyes.
For all the skies have been replaced
with sullen forms of cloudy shapes
that form, preventing any escapes
from loneliness and cries.
How can roses be so irreverently red?
When to me their vibrancy is completely dead.
Rather that their thorn prick my heart
and allow my withering blood depart.
For all the velvety touch they give
should not be present while I live
with loneliness and cries.
How can the grass be so irreverently green?
There shall never be a verdant scene
that will awaken my eyes again.
For all the grass that grows outside
is a dried up patch where I reside.
And there's no fleeing this emotional scene
of loneliness and cries.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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This Is How All Sunny Days Should Be
Green grass grows fast, green grass
I want you to grow so fast
So I can leap up, from the ground
And pretend to fly, soar so high
And then gravity, cruel, vile, unkind
Will drag me down, and shut my laugh
And then, green grass, (grow fast)
I’ll be sad of falling down
But then, my friend you’ll muffle my fall
And ill lie there
……..Calm………..
And hide, in the very green, tall,
Great, bed like grass
And then I’ll stare at the sky
(Light blue, immense sky)
And get lost in the clouds
(White, light absorbing clouds)
And then I’ll only hear the birds
And the wind brushing the branches
And the flowers will be dancing
To the rhythm of the air
And then I’ll think
“This is how all sunny days should be”
Foreign Roots In Desert Fall
Foreign Roots in Desert Fall.
It is sad to watch the big tree wearing a vast crown of hubris,
casting demonic shadows it allows nothing else to elevate.
Blows leaves of steel and stop anything that may help a small
bush grow. Once this tree was admired, an example how fast
arid land, fit only for the native Arabs, olive trees and goats,
grew into ten thousand blood dripping roses. In time,
countries far away came to fear this tree’s voraciousness its
boughs try to strangle the world; it is as it needs to govern us
to feel safe. Until we saw its weakness: ” This is a frantic tree,
a foreign plant in agony it has lost its purpose, has no ethics.
Worse of all its bark is scabby, roots are shallow; the tree can
tip over if our anger and disgust get to be a lashing hurricane,
which upend the tree; and its leaves will forever restless rustle
on the road to nowhere.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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