A Season's Closing
A wind that passes in the night,
came unexpectedly
and gone without a trace.
But your face it did touch,
running through your hair
as they float while it dances,
and patiently listening
to your unspoken emotions
before carrying them away
to the horizon's furthest edges...
Our encounter was brief
a mere season in a year
that quickly passes by
in the stream of running Time
but a fated one, indeed
a precious one, nevertheless
So, here is my blessing to you
before we part our ways:
This one last and final Song
to a friend I find so dear.
Thank you for your friendship.
I had fun,
and it's truly nice knowing you...
Take care,
for the days and days to come.
Wilson Khor W.H. @ Seymour Nightweaver
poem by Wilson Khor Woo Han
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Waiting n Love
My little child,
Everything will come when the time is right.
Like the sun that rises and sets,
At its appointed time each day,
Like the rain that falls
Keeping the soil alive,
And the law of the four seasons,
Part of nature's beautiful fascade...
If even the wind
That comes and goes as it pleases
Heeds the words of its Master
Halting when rebuked,
What more Love
Who in all things were first made,
Governed and placed in motion?
Again,
If He cares about when the sun rises
Of the days and the months
And the timing of the seasons...
What more He cares about you, little child?
Leave love to Him, for He is Love Himself
...and so is everything that comes with it.
Wilson Khor W.H. @ Seymour Nightweaver
poem by Wilson Khor Woo Han
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Stronger
See my scars,
See my wounds,
All over the place
Far from perfect;
...Just like everyone.
Cracks and wrinkles
Run all over
Like the trunk of a tree;
Like any tree in any forest,
Battered by rain and wind.
Baby days long lost
Cheated away by the world;
The frost who kills and steals
From every tree and every forest,
But my roots run deep,
Deep in my father's womb
And my leaves are not blind
Fed by the Sun above...
I shall live.
Day, or night,
Stronger with every storm-
Like how it has always been.
Wilson Khor W.H. @ Seymour Nightweaver
poem by Wilson Khor Woo Han
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The Silent Owl
The glimmering eyes
reflecting the moonlit sky
Dreamy but vigilant eyes
suddenly come into life
catching sight of scarlet petals
of blooming roses in the night.
Silvery feathers
gently glide
eyes perching in the dark
on a nearby branch
Big glowing eyes
silently observing
the field of dreams,
thinking deeply
and listening intently
to the rustling of the leaves
and the sound of the breeze
playing among the flowers
as critters continue to crawl
making noise as they play
unaware of his presence...
His eyes continue to watch
through the wee hours of the night.
Wilson Khor W.H. @ Seymour Nightweaver
poem by Wilson Khor Woo Han
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Thinking About You
Alone,
In the dark
Unable to sleep
Tossing and turning.
Listening quietly
To the December rain
Tossing and turning
Tossing and turning...
Restless,
Thinking about you.
Realised,
A sting of loneliness
As I opened my eyes
Staring at the celling.
No one but myself
In this small single room
Tossing and turning
Tossing and turning...
Thinking about you.
Partially wishing you were here
To lend me a listening ear
Because I admit
I too, like you,
Want to be hugged
A person, not a bolster.
The warmth of another person,
Longing for affection
Hungry for some attention
To hear some affirming words...
That I am still loved,
To have someone to remind me
That I no longer need to be lonely.
I too, desire to be loved.
Just like you,
Just like any other person.
Wilson Khor W.H. @ Seymour Nightweaver
poem by Wilson Khor Woo Han
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When Apologies Mean Nothing
When apologies mean nothing,
when sorry is just a word...
You don't have to say it anymore
when it is not going to change
The way you look at me;
How different you are today
and that part of you I loved -
now slowly, dying away.
What are those three words
when expressed with guilty eyes
When it is common knowledge
That repentance is just a farce
if one refuses to change
And here you are, still afraid of me...
Afraid, for you know too well
you could not accept and love me back
And would only push me away
no matter how much love I give
Because even if I try my best
I will never be good enough.
When apologies mean nothing
when sorry is just a word...
You don't have to say it anymore
when nothing is going to change...
And I have forgiven you anyway;
Because this is how much I loved you,
and this is what love is all about.
Wilson Khor W.H. @ Seymour Nightweaver
poem by Wilson Khor Woo Han
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A Poem For Elyssa
What will I see
appearing before me
when she types her heart
and her thoughts out for me
Will it be sweet,
Will it be majestic,
but even if it doesn't
it's still beautiful, you see
It's not your talent
that gives your poem beauty,
neither it's skill nor wits
that gives it the punchline hits...
but it's the reflection of who you are
on the blank paper I will see
that gives it its breathing life
the way it ought to be.
Perfection is not the answer
nor it is technique or book-bound knowledge,
but it is the embracing of who you are
and the harmony in the acceptance
between your self and your mirror...
for man is never perfect
- such is the true human nature
that God knew since Creation...
flawed, to its very core
yet beautiful at His own accord.
The beauty our Creator sees,
the beauty of all beauty:
That, is the beauty I know.
Wilson Khor W.H. @ Seymour Nightweaver
poem by Wilson Khor Woo Han
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Am I running from myself?
Am I running from myself?
Am I?
Who can tell me whom am I running from?
Is it me who is a villain of my own self?
Or is it a man in the mirror
Am I running from?
A man who is like me
But has no feelings
Who am I running from?
Knowing one or the other day
I have to face the reality
Whom am I running from?
Whom am I running from?
But I am not cheating myself
Am I?
No I’m not
Then why is it
Am I running from myself?
Who can tell me who am I running from?
Does anybody have answer for that?
Whom am I running from?
No! No! No!
Got to solve this puzzle of caves myself
As I have to face the reality one day
Nobody can answer my questions
Then I myself
Have to keep on moving
Solving my problems myself
As to why am I running from myself?
Why am I running from myself?
Know they would talk about it
Day in day out
Who cares!
I have to stop myself
Myself today or tomorrow
Have to get back on track
Coz that is the way I have to be
Have to curb my ways
I know I have to explain myself a lot
Why Am I running from myself?
But I have to curb myself
Why Am I running from myself?
Why Am I running from myself?
By Farukh
poem by Farooq Hussain
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Changes
I still don't know what I was waiting for
And my time was running wild
A million dead-end streets
Every time I thought I'd got it made
It seemed the taste was not so sweet
So I turned myself to face me
But I've never caught a glimpse
Of how the others must see the faker
I'm much too fast to take that test
Ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes
(Turn and face the stranger)
Ch-ch-Changes
Don't want to be a richer man
Ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes
(Turn and face the stranger)
Ch-ch-Changes
Just gonna have to be a different man
Time may change me
But I can't trace time
I watch the ripples change their size
But never leave the stream
Of warm impermanence and
So the days float through my eyes
But still the days seem the same
And these children that you spit on
As they try to change their worlds
Are immune to your consultations
They're quite aware of what they're going through
Ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes
(Turn and face the stranger)
Ch-ch-Changes
Don't tell them to grow up and out of it
Ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes
(Turn and face the stranger)
Ch-ch-Changes
Where's your shame
You've left us up to our necks in it
Time may change me
But you can't trace time
Strange fascination
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Dreamer's Smile
A simple girl
with half-sleepy eyes
smiling dreamily by herself,
sitting by the edge
of the balcony by the sea
looking at the birds
flying freely in the air
and listening to the waves
and their soft ocean rhythm
that have made themselves heard
since the creation of the horizons.
This dreamer's smile
now a rare beautiful jewel
in this modern hectic world
offering a moment's pause
to this weary poetic soul
- a glimpse into her world
as he listens to her heart
and the tale behind her smile...
One that is untouched
by the many ways of the world
that have led all men astray
- a tale of innocent love,
of how a maiden found her love
when she saw the Lover of her soul.
A smile that tells of her Creator
telling of His heart
when he first crafted her smile
while she was still a spark
in His divine creative womb,
a smile that finds its worth
in that captivating innocence
many have traded away
as they wander and lose their way
in this labyrinth of a world.
A rare mesmerizing smile
that many can never have
found abundant in grace
in this plain and simple dreamer
and in the little world she dwells.
Wilson Khor W.H. @ Seymour Nightweaver
poem by Wilson Khor Woo Han
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Who Knows Where Time Goes
Time is something we don't understand,
It's gone with a hello and a shake of the hand.
Never enough time for those you hold dear
But always, time for sadness and tears.
Time, you can't se it at all
For it passes so quickly --- while you lean on a wall.
Who knows where time goes/
No time for the dreams you have for yourself
Nor time for reading all the books the shelf.
Not enough time to go drifting along
For one has to work eight hours long.
Who knows where time goes?
No time to laugh --- and just be alone,
No time at all for friend or foe.
Time is running out --- people all say,
Who knows where time goes --- each and every day!
poem by Dorothy Fern Fowler
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Running Out Of Love
Some days youre gonna put me on hold
Some days youre gonna put me
On a pedestal up high
I dont know if its me
I dont know if its you
I dont know if its both of us
Not knowing what to do
When were running out of love
Not knowing what to do
When were running out of love
And when it comes to taking my calls
Theres something more between us
Than a telephone line
I cant believe its me
I cant believe its you
I cant believe its both of us
Not knowing what to do
When were running out of love
Not knowing what to do
When were running out of love
Cant think of how we lost our way
Some days I feel
Im getting very close to you
Cant think of how the story ends
Cant hear the words
I really want to hear from you
Were running out of love
Cant believe were running out of love
Cant believe were running out of love
Some people like to put you on hold
Some people like to put you
On a pedestal up high
I dont know if its me
I dont know if its you
I dont know if its both of us
Not knowing what to do
When were running out of love
Not knowing what to do
When were running out of love
Cant believe were running out of love
Cant believe were running out of love
Cant believe were running out of love
song performed by by Moody Blues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My life passes so quickly
My life passes so quickly
like a stream passing in flood
with water rushing against every thing
My life passes so quickly
that every deed and every word
frolic whirling together and are corded.
My life passes so quickly
like a stream passing in flood.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Blessings
All your days can be beautiful, when you let The Lord fulfill,
His ways and plan in your life, and His blessings will be rife,
If we only believe and trust, blessings will pour down on us,
As He opens up floodgates of, all blessings He has above.
Blessings upon us are poured, when we submit to The Lord,
This to follow all of God’s ways, as we live out all our days,
Listening to the Holy Spirit, and His prompting as we heat it,
Guiding us to those doors, where grace and blessing pours.
Then Grace will begin to flow, in ways that we’d never know,
Flowing from an endless supply, His blessing for you and I,
Blessings will flow abundantly, down to all of God’s Family,
As we live our life for Him, while keeping our life free of sin.
Blessing is to, subtle friend, in strength, as we near an end,
Coming in that final hour, when you truly need divine power,
With peace as part of a course, from a never ending source,
Peace, knowing God is near, when your heart begins to fear.
Blessings you’ll be assured, follow all who live for The Lord,
Even in a dark and lonely place, as God ministers His Grace,
The Grace, that began at Calvary, to lead all men to Eternity,
Where Blessing from our Lord, will flow to them forevermore.
(Copyright ©09/2008)
Passes away
Passes away
Everything passes away
The night the star
The day the fire
Everything everything.
I remained as it is
Where it is
Here as a fairy tale.
Death passes away
Birth passes away
And passes away
Everything passes away.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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I'm Running Out Of Time
I'm running out of time
I'm as low as i can get.
I'm running out of time
No-ones noticed yet!
I'm running out of time
To face my fears and lies.
I'm running out of time
To say all my goodbyes.
I'm running out of time
To tell him how i feel.
I'm running out of time
This love, it makes me ill.
I'm running out of time
To achieve something in my life.
I'm running out of time
To be a mother or a wife.
I'm running out of time
I cant trust anymore.
I'm running out of time
I'm now running out the door! ! !
poem by Katy Allen
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I'm running out of time
I'm running out of time
I'm as low as i can get.
I'm running out of time
No-ones noticed yet!
I'm running out of time
To face my fears and lies.
I'm running out of time
To say all my goodbyes.
I'm running out of time
To tell him how i feel.
I'm running out of time
This love, it makes me ill.
I'm running out of time
To achieve something in my life.
I'm running out of time
To be a mother or a wife.
I'm running out of time
I cant trust anymore.
I'm running out of time
I'm now running out the door! ! !
poem by Stephanie Byrne
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It Is Still Too Early To Cry
Life's bleak
There's no other way to flee
from the broken glass fragments
scattered across the floor.
Watching pieces of my face
staring back at me
as my head hung low
looking at those flawed reflections.
Blood dripping on the brick
the now silent culprit
who blew that precious mirror
right in front of my face.
Happened in a flash
nothing I could save
just be glad that my eyes
are spared from the graze.
The blizzards are blowing
the wind won't stop howling,
but it is still too early to fall...
It is still too early to cry.
The old me would feel like quitting
but I have a reason to keep on standing,
because I can see with my very eyes
that the season is still too early...
It is still too early to cry.
Wishing the dark to be eternal
as flesh curled up in a corner
locked in a fetal position
not wanting to wake up again.
But Time waits for no one
and dawn disturbs my slumber
as if my rest has never happened,
the cycle goes on and on.
The blizzards are blowing
the wind won't stop howling,
but it is still too early to fall...
It is still too early to cry.
The old me would feel like quitting
but I have a reason to keep on standing,
because I can see with my very eyes
that the season is still too early...
It is still too early to cry.
(Nature's song rings so eternal:
Life slips into death,
death rises into life.
Seasons come and passes
nothing is ever permanent
change, is inevitable
and those who refuse to die
would never have tasted life.)
The blizzards are blowing
the wind won't stop howling,
but it is still too early to fall...
It is still too early to cry.
The old me would feel like quitting
but I have a reason to keep on standing,
because I can see with my very eyes
that the season is still too early...
It is still too early to cry.
What's broken, is already broken
but it is still too early to cry...
I still have a long way to go.
poem by Wilson Khor Woo Han
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Running...
Running4Christ.
Running to race.
Running to live.
Running to stay fit.
Running to find myself.
Running to save lives.
Running to heaven.
Running for Christ.
Running for faith.
Running for Love.
Running for God.
Running for Life.
Running for Records
Running for Russia.
Running Till The End..
poem by Joseph Fuller
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Time Passes Slowly
Time passes slowly up here in the mountains,
We sit beside bridges and walk beside fountains,
Catch the wild fishes that float through the stream,
Time passes slowly when youre lost in a dream.
Once I had a sweetheart, she was fine and good-lookin,
We sat in her kitchen while her mama was cookin,
Stared out the window to the stars high above,
Time passes slowly when youre searchin for love.
Aint no reason to go in a wagon to town,
Aint no reason to go to the fair.
Aint no reason to go up, aint no reason to go down,
Aint no reason to go anywhere.
Time passes slowly up here in the daylight,
We stare straight ahead and try so hard to stay right,
Like the red rose of summer that blooms in the day,
Time passes slowly and fades away.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Running Out Of Wind
Running out of wind,
And...
Accusations.
That merry-go-round is slowing down.
And those who have become bored with it...
No longer find the scenery,
Appetizing enough...
To keep returning for revisits.
Running out of wind,
And...
Accusations.
A promise to speed up the ride is dismissed.
People just want to put an end to it.
They demand to get off.
That's it...
They quit!
Running out of wind,
And...
Accusations.
Running out of wind,
And listening with patience...
To those blowing it consistently,
Until a boredom has set in!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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