A Waiting
A green patch of growth
Raved in Dandelion yellow
Sway to the rhythm of wind
Under an old willow
Out of place it lurks
A muddy pond man-made
Where a lone duck sun bathes
In its weed laden banks-narrow
A concrete wall cage them in
A smiling face splattered on it
Black eyed and red lipped
Outside my window
At my honey oak desk I sit
Surrounded by paper rustling
Wallowing it all, idling
Impatiently, waiting till four!
poem by Deva De Silva
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Lone Yellow Flower Waves In The Open Fields
lone yellow flower
waves in the open fields
bowing according to the tune
among the sea of green;
lone yellow flower has no one to blame
and it seeks none to praise
for it knows all life comes in
when the conditions are right;
lone yellow flower knows
death comes in like the wind;
lone yellow flower
is never alone
for it is a part of the expression
of the earth and time and the universe;
lone yellow flower sees what is before and around
lone yellow flower observes what is within and about
and so lone yellow flower lives with no delusions
no beliefs of heaven and hell
fears none and does not live or die
to please or amuse or appease;
and lone yellow flower
blossoms and shines
and shrivels and ceases
in harmony
with what actually is;
lone yellow flower
waves in the open fields
bowing according to the tune
among the sea of green
poem by Raj Arumugam
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Shattered windows, Colors of white
Across the street is a new house with a room painted red, with no holes of white.
Next to me, a house purple, with its color pealing off, with holes of black and white
At the end of the street, an old house once yellow, what now remains white.
The sound of a hammer building a house, entering a place with a color unknown.
On the street,
Windows covered with ice
Some shine with light.
Some broken
Some fixed
Some lost, out of sight.
A house, two blocks from here.
Shines with lights of yellow, red, and green everywhere.
A wall keeping the wind from blowing anywhere.
The house next door, at the dawn of the day.
Paints its room black, and peals the color away.
The wall crumbles.
The wind blows across the colors of yellow, red and green
Breaks all the windows.
Turns the yellow to blue, red to black, and green to white.
The house two blocks away.
Adds a line of yellow red and green everyday.
To allow the house of blue, black and white to shine for us some day.
poem by Linda ErikssonBique
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Cabin on Loon Lake
INTERIOR kitchen of rustic cabin
in remote region of northern Michigan
wind howling snow swirling visible
through small window at left
Disheveled man sits at makeshift desk
sorting through stacks of paper
Angular woman leans against iron sink
smoking cigarette after cigarette
MAN> You use the checkbook?
Woman looks around room, smiling.
She gestures toward a cabinet against the wall.
WOMAN> There's some Wheaties in the cupboard.
Man looks startled as he rises to his feet
MAN> You know what I'm saying?
Woman stubs out cigarette in a chipped coffee cup.
She fishes out another from the pack in her shirt pocket.
Man comes around desk and hands her a folded sheet.
Woman unfolds paper and studies it.
WOMAN> This is just plain crazy.
Man turns to desk and unrolls a length of blueprint.
He smooths it and points at the center of the sheet.
WOMAN> I like it.
CURTAIN
poem by Michael Pruchnicki
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Optical Illusion
Optical Illusion
It was an old rabbit, glass eyed and stuffed, that sat on
a window sill it also had a bald spot on top of its head,
petted by children who knew it was alive. The window it
sat by faced the woods and on a day when window was
open, and it was a day in May, it vanished. Hunters had
seen it jump through the air fast as a midnight shadow.
A rich man bought the woods chopped down trees and
filled in the tarn, where it often had been seen smiling to
its own image. This so he could get a trophy on his wall
and be famous as the man who shot the phantom rabbit.
He went insane all he could find was a yellow plastic duck.
A stuffed rabbit sits on the window sill it has glass eyes,
a bald spot on top of its head; snowing outside it deeply
sighs good to be indoors on a day like this.
poem by Oskar Hansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Lost In Meaning....
a dandelion
against the wind
the wind spreads
each sleeping willow lightness
you watch it
and give it meaning
so light as a whisper
the soul sings
you follow one
landing on the blade of grass
you shed off
a mask
naked you fly as light
as a piece of dandelion blown by the wind
you are lost.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Tale Of Midnight & Me
muddy with the rain
she didn't look like a cat
I couldn't explain
it was black as night
drenched and so very tiny
it tried to take flight
I picked her up
she licked my hand and face
took her to my place
what has thumbs on paws
is pure black with yellow eyes
a cat with no claws
sits on a place mat
can eat whatever she wants
she never gets fat
sits by the window
guards us with special powers
so glad she is ours
what was soaking wet
crying in the pouring rain
now's a pampered pet
not just a cat see
more like the best friend I got
that's Midnight & Me
poem by Linda Racaniello
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Money Honey
Well the landlord rang my front door bell
He let it ring for a long, long spell
Went to the window, peeked through the blind
Asked him to tell me what was on his mind
An' he said:
Money honey
Money honey
Money honey
If you want to stay up here with me.
I was screamin' green an so hard pressed
I called the woman that I love the best
Finally found my baby 'bout a quarter to three
She said "I wanna know what you want with me"
An I said:
Money honey (Just a little bit)
Money honey
Money honey
If you wanna git along with me.
Well she screamed and said
"What's wrong with you?
From this day on our romance is through."
I should tell my baby, face to face
How could another man take my place?
An she said:
Money honey (lots and lots of that)
Money honey (you got to give me some)
Money honey
If you wanna git along with me.
I learned my lesson and now I know
Sun may shine and the wind may blow
Women come and women may go
But before I'll tell em that I love em so.
I want
Money honey (Do you have some?)
Money honey
Money honey
If you wanna get along with me
Money honey, (Give me)
Money honey, (I need some)
Money honey, if you wanna get along with me.
song performed by by 38 Special
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
White Letters On Green Green Grass
Never had he spoken of what they saw
He’d held it back- his emotions raw
Until this day when it came to pass
He found the name etched in black glass
Before that wall he found himself kneeling
Couldn’t shake the overwhelming feeling
His ravaged soul opened up at last
As long-buried memories flooded from the past
Black ink against the paper lined
On and on as he spoke his mind
Comrades-in-arms; friends ‘till the last
White letter on green green grass…..
His tears spilled and on the paper fell
As he wrote it all down; describing their hell
Fevered and hard; the words came fast
Purging his soul as he relived their past
Black ink against the paper lined
On and on as he spoke his mind
Comrades-in-arms; friends till the last
White letter on green green grass…..
poem by Julie Dant
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Dream Flight Tiny Flowers
a dandelion dazzles
bright yellow petals
set among soft blades
green grass carpets
flowers waiting host bees
in pollen quest flights
petals fade to dreams
dandelion transcends
really to harness winds
assumes new dimensions
aeronautical aspirations
tiny flowers bunched seeds
together dream lift flights
to distant diverse fields
dandelion purpose blooms
dream flight tiny flowers
produce seed parachutes
compass aline on heavens
choose navigation stars
rich green grass maps
imagination showers
through blue skies
or grey black storms
watch seasons changes
feelings thoughts minds
souls dance time changes
through wonder ranges
yellow petals subtle changes
one day transformation clicks
into white honeycomb wishes
fades into spectral stems
preparations need seeds
in readiness to roam skies
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Primrose
Yellow, yellow, yellow, yellow!
It is not a color.
It is summer!
It is the wind on a willow,
the lap of waves, the shadow
under a bush, a bird, a bluebird,
three herons, a dead hawk
rotting on a pole--
Clear yellow!
It is a piece of blue paper
in the grass or a threecluster of
green walnuts swaying, children
playing croquet or one boy
fishing, a man
swinging his pink fists
as he walks--
It is ladysthumb, forget-me-nots
in the ditch, moss under
the flange of the carrail, the
wavy lines in split rock, a
great oaktree--
It is a disinclination to be
five red petals or a rose, it is
a cluster of birdsbreast flowers
on a red stem six feet high,
four open yellow petals
above sepals curled
backward into reverse spikes--
Tufts of purple grass spot the
green meadow and clouds the sky.
poem by William Carlos Williams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Sundew
A LITTLE marsh-plant, yellow green,
And pricked at lip with tender red.
Tread close, and either way you tread
Some faint black water jets between
Lest you should bruise the curious head.
A live thing maybe; who shall know?
The summer knows and suffers it;
For the cool moss is thick and sweet
Each side, and saves the blossom so
That it lives out the long June heat.
The deep scent of the heather burns
About it; breathless though it be,
Bow down and worship; more than we
Is the least flower whose life returns,
Least weed renascent in the sea.
We are vexed and cumbered in earth’s sight
With wants, with many memories;
These see their mother what she is,
Glad-growing, till August leave more bright
The apple-coloured cranberries.
Wind blows and bleaches the strong grass,
Blown all one way to shelter it
From trample of strayed kine, with feet
Felt heavier than the moorhen was,
Strayed up past patches of wild wheat.
You call it sundew: how it grows,
If with its colour it have breath,
If life taste sweet to it, if death
Pain its soft petal, no man knows:
Man has no sight or sense that saith.
My sundew, grown of gentle days,
In these green miles the spring begun
Thy growth ere April had half done
With the soft secret of her ways
Or June made ready for the sun.
O red-lipped mouth of marsh-flower,
I have a secret halved with thee.
The name that is love’s name to me
Thou knowest, and the face of her
Who is my festival to see.
The hard sun, as thy petals knew,
Coloured the heavy moss-water:
Thou wert not worth green midsummer
Nor fit to live to August blue,
O sundew, not remembering her.
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Sun Is Smiling
While watching
the back of the peach maker
the sun is smiling.
While listening
to the voice of the singing gardener
the sun is smiling.
While touching the gentle grasses
as they sway in the wind
the sun is smiling.
The sun is smiling
and it made me smile too.
poem by Marites C. Cayetano
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Doronicums are Smiling
Standing in a row
and greeting Hello
Doronicums are smiling
With their shiny Yellow.
The green hearty leaves
Encircle all you fellows
Feel so soft, rich and mellow
Rose is a king but you a Stello
Doronicum are smiling
with their shiny Yellow.
Happiness so vivid by your tone
Wisdoms the symbol that glows
Way you move when wind blows
Seems breeze playing Cello
Doronicum are smiling
with their shiny Yellow.
poem by Samima Shah
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Summer
Remember the days of our first happiness,
how strong we were, how dazed by passion,
lying all day, then all night in the narrow bed,
sleeping there, eating there too: it was summer,
it seemed everything had ripened
at once. And so hot we lay completely uncovered.
Sometimes the wind rose; a willow brushed the window.
But we were lost in a way, didn't you feel that?
The bed was like a raft; I felt us drifting
far from our natures, toward a place where we'd discover nothing.
First the sun, then the moon, in fragments,
stone through the willow.
Things anyone could see.
Then the circles closed. Slowly the nights grew cool;
the pendant leaves of the willow
yellowed and fell. And in each of us began
a deep isolation, though we never spoke of this,
of the absence of regret.
We were artists again, my husband.
We could resume the journey.
Anonymous submission.
poem by Louise Gluck
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Money Honey
(jesse stone)
(a) - (d) - (e) capo on 1
(a) well, the landlord rang my frontdoor bell
(e) I let it rang for a long, long spell
(d) went to the window, peeped through the blind
(e) asked him to tell me what was on his mind
He said, (a) money honey, (d) money honey, (a) money honey
(e) if you wanna stay here with (a) me
I was clean and screened and so hard pressed
I called the woman that I loved the best
Finally found my baby bout a quarter to three
She said, Id like to know what you want with me
And I said, money honey, money honey, money honey
If you wanna get along with me
Well, she screamed and said
Whats wrong with you, from this day forth
Our romance is through
I said, tell me baby, face to face
How could another man take my place ?
She said, money honey, money honey, money honey
If you wanna get along with me
Ive learned a lesson and now I know
Sun may shine, wind may blow
Women may come and women may go
But before I tell em that I love em so
I want money honey, money honey, money honey
If you wanna get along with me
song performed by by Ry Cooder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Green Month
WHAT of all the colours shall I bring you for your fairing,
Fit to lay your fingers on, fine enough for you ?–
Yellow for the ripened rye, white for ladies' wearing,
Red for briar-roses, or the skies' own blue ?
Nay, for spring has touched the elm, spring has found the willow,
Winds that call the swallow home sway the boughs apart;
Green shall all my curtains be, green shall be my pillow,
Green I'll wear within my hair, and green upon my heart.
poem by Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Smiling Face
[V1]
Sitting on the bus
Looking through the window
And I close my eyes
I see the shade of your smiling face
Your smiling face
When you walk in through the door
Smiling face
Like I've never seen before
[V2]
Standing in the rain
Nearly washed the day away
Then I think of you
I know the sight of your smiling face
Your smiling face
And it's always here with me
Smiling face
Well I wonder could it be
[CHORUS]
I still know
That I'm never gonna find you
But I do believe
That you're standing right behind
Will I ever get
The answer to my question
Life will go on
song performed by by M2M from Shades Of Purple
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Weed
There was an old woman
that planted a garden.
And in the garden
there grew a weed.
The weed grew next to
a beautiful flower.
The flower had grown
from a tiny seed.
The weed was strong
and would not bend.
The wind did blow
and it did send
the seeds from the flower
into the air.
They circled around
and landed where
the weed was growing
next to the flower.
Soon the weed was
surrounded by flowers.
It loved where it was
and looked by the hours
at all of the beautiful
colorful flowers.
The old woman who planted
the garden one day
decided that she would
make a bouquet.
She went to the garden
to cut the flowers.
But when she got there
down came the showers.
The raindrops that fell
made the weed shine
which made the old woman
change her mind.
She left them alone
in her garden and knew
that the weed belonged
with the flowers that grew.
She'd planted the flowers.
God planted the weed.
The garden was perfect.
No bouquet did she need.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Pearls Girl
Rioja. rioja. reverend al green.
Deep blue morocco. the water on stone.
The water on concrete. the water on sand.
The water on fire. smoke.
The wind. the salt. the bride boat coming.
Dave in the water. old man.
Einstein on top of his house. white deep blue
Andalusia red yellow red yellow black car.
Red light. far. black place. walls. blue chair.
Morocco. hamburg. paris.
The pieces of the puzzle are waiting.
The water of the dark boats gliding.
The bride boats gone out to sea and
Dave is floating. dave is floating.
And old man einstein crazy in his attic.
Crazy.
White room. sun room. shadow room.
Night transmitting cars across the room.
These things sent to dance across the room.
Eye watching from your bed. returning to you.
song performed by by Underworld
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Waiting For The Worms
Oooo you cannot reach me now,
Oooo no matter how you try.
Goodbye cruel world, its over.
Walk on by.
Sitting in a bunker,
Here behind my wall,
Waiting for the worms to come. ( worms to come. )
In perfect isolation,
Here behind my wall,
Waiting for the worms to come. ( worms to come. )
Waiting, to cut out the deadwood.
Waiting, to clean up the city.
Waiting, to follow the worms.
Waiting, to put on a black shirt.
Waiting, to weed out the weaklings.
Waiting, to smash in their windows and kick in their doors.
Waiting, for the final solution to strengthen the strain.
Waiting, to follow the worms.
Waiting, to turn on the showers and fire the ovens.
Waiting, for the queers and the coons and the reds and the jews.
Waiting, to follow the worms.
Would you like to see britannia,
Rule again, my friend?
All you have to do is follow the worms.
Would you like to send our colored cousins,
Home again, my friend?
All you need to do is follow the worms.
song performed by by Pink Floyd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!