Appalachian Gray
I think the dusk has slipped beyond all words.
You speak spring with an accent never heard.
A poem on an Appalachian pane
Is bringing April back via the rain.
Pale trillium on the hill above the creek
Is delicate beyond the will to speak.
A gray coat of old feelings wraps my frame.
The landscape flickers like a candleflame.
Friend, frozen tears of trees mirror the sky
Within the confines of their inner cry.
The light fades us into its elegy.
Music is pictured though no sound need be.
2007, Copyright Sandra Fowler
poem by Sandra Fowler
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Gray Music
You wrote your Yiddish signature in rain.
I could not match it in a thousand years.
Old words are classic to my memory.
Because of you, my feet have wings this day.
Gray music paints a picture of rare worth,
A Slavic image of an April mood,
Breaching the barrier of your last breath,
I should not wonder, Friend, you said it would.
'For a poet who was born in April and died in April'.
Copyright,2009, Sandra Fowler
poem by Sandra Fowler
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January Mist
Sometimes at night I hear small birds lament.
Dark notes that seem to second moon's descent.
Cold is the color of a deep regret,
An etude perfected by winterset.
The world was music and it turned us round.
Stirred by the subtle atmospheric sound,
You gently sketched a snowflake on my face
Which shall be mine till light has left this place.
Such solace has the power to outlast time,
To lock a small bird's elegy in rhyme.
Somewhere beyond the January mist,
The magic of our landscape still exists.
Copyright,2008, Sandra Fowler
poem by Sandra Fowler
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Beyond Eden
Green leaves tap at my window like lost souls.
I trace their signatures upon the glass.
Dawn is only a few quatrains away.
I memorize the fragrance of spring rain.
It takes me back beyond Eden, my friends
Where Adam brushed the first tear from Eve's eye.
Stripped of their innocence, how could they know?
The last grief would be soothed by God himself.
Somewhere deep in the hills, a lyric bird
Sings of the poignancy of humanness.
The ever freshness of that ancient sound
Brings back the sun that shone aeons ago.
Sandra Fowler, copyright,2010
poem by Sandra Fowler
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This Poem Has Feelings
This poem has feelings
This a poem of sorrow, hurt and pain
This is a poem of struggle, sufferation and poverty
This poem has feelings
Stabbing beats
kill my joy with a sad song
This poem will speak
This poem will fight
This poem is angry
This poem has feelings
Cruel thoughts run and rule my thinking
Uncognitive, unrational, jut cold and hardhearted
This poem has feelings
poem by Zanele Mavuso
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Spring On April Avenue
When you dont need me anymore
You realise how much you need me
But I just need you if you not need me
Like the spring on april avenue
Words are wounds
And flowers fly
The smell of dew
Spring on april avenue
The electrification
Every leafs pleasure
Every lightbulb waiting underground
Every child rising through life
Because machines are statues...
Spring on april avenue
Theres no symphony
Just a storm in every eye
Snow in their minds...frozen souls
Spring on april avenue.
Theres too much blinding light
Too many wells, and the walls are coming closer
Too many hearts beating our life
But the heart beat for death not life
Like the spring on april avenue
Divorced...forced from heaven and hell...
Air and the earth...Im...Im...
On april avenue.
poem by Not A Dream Choice
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0013 And, Friend...
and if you wonder, friend, why I begin
a poem thus – you are to understand
that it’s as if
we have been close friends all our life,
friends, as Kabir defined a friend
as if no-one ever tried to speak of friend before –
friends, who share the silences between their words
as much as sharing their most inward thoughts;
so, our conversation’s just as much
a continuation of our friendship,
wasting no time in speaking passing things,
sharing some new thought in turn
and asking more for listening
than easy agreement for politeness’ sake;
for, we’re listening to the allness of the all -
all that has been said and
all that cannot yet be said
but thought in silences, in pauses between speech,
all that we might say
when we find words in which to say it,
and because
there’s not much time, to say what we would say
and so, we speak of that which time
can never steal; so there is always time
to speak, and hear the silence
out of which speech comes;
listening for the unspoken
bringing miracles
poem by Michael Shepherd
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A Poem Is Just A Poem
a poem is just a poem and if it is just a poem
it must be just a poem just like another poem
a poem is nothing but just a poem otherwise
it cannot be my poem; it may speak about
anything, or something, or about everything,
but my poem is just a poem just like anybody's
poem, which is just but a poem, like any other
poem, for a poem to be a poem it must just be
a poem: it has nothing to do with my love, and death
my life, or bliss, but as i have told you, once, twice
thrice, eat some rice, and be that wise, a poem is
just a poem, just like your poem. Why do you insist
on asking, what is happening to me? I am not a
poem, for i am but just the composer of the poem,
need i tell you again, that a poem is just a poem?
just like any other poem, which is just a poem
it is just a voice in my head that i have heard
someone comes and speaks and i listen so
this poem is not actually my poem but the poem
of someone else's: theirs not mine, from a mind.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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April's Song
(with thanks to Sandra Fowler, for reminding me of the beautiful month of April)
I am the beginning
I am the start
I am the awakening
I am the spark
I am the seed
I am the urge
I am the promise
of rebirth
I am the journey
Without end
I am the circle
Once again
I am peace
After the storm
I am warmth
After the cold
I am the flower
Under the snow
I am the green
After the thaw
I am Spring
I am Hope
I am earth’s Eternal Song
Come April...
I'm coming back home
© 2009 Sonya Florentino
poem by Sonya Florentino
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Eight Ways Of The Saints
Now gentle Love you guide us in your reign
which rules a night whose stars at last align
and tiers of passion mirror from it's pane
Parched, featureless lone landscape of the plain
when winds of oaths, rapt thunder, light entwine,
now gentle, Love you guide us in your rain
A past too often wasted, spent in vain
now forwards to a night where two combine
and tears of passion mirror from it's pain
Emotions run, wild horses through our veins
spent, flared nostrals I whinny near equine
now gentle Love, you guide us in your rein
Moon who moves the oceans, as this night wanes,
hope's passed to Sun with it's reflective shine
and tears of passion mirror from it's pane
As gods not of this earth two souls ordain
our share'd throne in throes of the devine,
now gentle Love you guide us in your reign
and tears of passion mirror from it's pain
poem by Richard S. Wells
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Rain Tears
Rain, tears, rain, tears,
Melding in torrential fears:
Chill of cloud; saddened eye-
In either way, a latent cry.
Rain, tears, rain, tears,
Married under sceptic jeers:
‘They'll never last.' Methinks not true, for
Either way, forever blue.
Rain, tears, rain, tears,
Simple love with lacy cares,
Their intercourse will ne'er refrain
From rain and tears and tears and rain.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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April Showers
It is the season of new beginnings...
Spring removes her winter robe
And fades into rainbows of hope;
The sun shines its headlights into April-
And in the garden the effluent scent
Of multiple blooms delights the nose;
The naked trees are no longer bare
Clothed in egg shell, pink and green.
Now entertaining the sometime visit
Of the butterfly and bee;
Showers are but a necessity
Splashed to chase the thirst away
They are never maudlin weeping tears
But always fall on purpose
For they help to bring
Even more blossoms to May;
Dedicated To: 'Betty'...AKA- - - - - - -
Remembering 1978
August: Seattle Times
And what you said:
'Emily took off like a big bird
For L.A. and Australia
But you had better get your
Umbrella's out as she is
Flying back in the spring...'
I did fly back in the Spring
Of 1979...for my fathers last
Two heart attacks and death.
Heart attack in April and last
One in May... and then he passed!
We will always wonder how
You knew that i would be
coming back in April
When even the doctors did
Not know!
By: Theodora Onken
April 9,2012
poem by Theodora Onken
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April, Dear April
April, dear April, I beg you come soon –
And bring your sweet primroses too.
Let them join in with the daffodils’ play,
As skies offer sunshine anew.
April, dear April, my blessed spring child,
Ornate in your yellow and white,
Teasing the birds into trilling their songs
And dancing to music of flight.
April, dear April, come enter my dreams
And rid me from cold winter chills.
Banish the rain and those blustery winds
And warm up our countryside hills.
April, dear April, I know you can’t stay -
You have to move on ‘till next year.
And though I shall cherish the glory of summer,
You’ll always be my month most dear.
From: Succumbed to Thinking by Mark Raymond Slaughter, lulu.com
Copyright © Mark Raymond Slaughter 2009
All rights reserved
April April April April
April April April April
April April April April
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Young Poets
You speak for the lakes, the trees and the birds
You say what they'd say if they had the words.
Make PEACE and be proud, choose well every choice
Speak HOPE and speak loud, you are Nature's voice.
Speak with respect now, for jungles and streams,
Speak for all wildlife and dream giant dreams.
Speak with great courage, speak up and speak out,
Write with a whisper or write with a SHOUT!
Stand up young poets for clean air and rivers,
Free verse or lyric; your message delivers...
Truth to the future citizens of earth,
Speak of your freedom your friends and self worth.
Speak for tomorrow and though you're still young,
Speak for the Forest, your pen is her tongue.
The world waits to hear your songs still unsung
Words posses power, you can write the wrongs
Teach us and lead us with Poems and with songs.
Speak now for nature, for trees and for birds,
Defenders of Earth choose carefullly your words!
poem by ToddMichael St. Pierre
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Razel’s Song To Melodie
I will freeze
your feelings one by one,
You will
go completely numb.
I will teach you to ignore,
what all of your feelings are for.
You will not be able to cry at will,
You will be mine to control with this
Little pill.
This pill is a freeze emotion pill
all linked and controlled by me,
Feeling like your helpless and weak,
I will make it hard for you to speak.
Speak your mind and say your thoughts,
'You are mine don’t you know it!
How dare you speak out! ! '
Yes, you were born to be controlled
until 16 years of age,
by then you will be totally Iceranean!
What? How dare you not play
my frozen emotion game!
I’m in control, you stay the same! ”
Copyright 2006 Christina Sunrise
poem by Suzae Chevalier
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White Hot Day
Instrumental version called bass line
In time, only time, speak for time, in time
Time calls, time cries, sweet friend of mine
Time could be a place, a spirit and a face
Teardrops through time
While away below, the whirlwinds will blow
A pretty nation speaks in time
The beauty of it is, to waken up to
Shake the hand of time
In time, only time, well speak for time
On a quiet night of a white hot day
Whisper the things that will come our way
On a quiet night of a white hot day
Hold back the years, hold back the years
Time calls, time cries, sounds like a friend of mine
Time will run to meet, the slick and shiny beat
That creeps to me through time
While away below, the whirlwinds will blow
A pretty nation sleeps in time
The beauty of it is
Well wake up to, shake the hand of time
In time, only time, in time, only time
In time
On a quiet night of a white hot day
Whisper the things that will come our way
On a quiet night of a white hot day
Hold back the tears, hold back the tears
In time, only time, well speak for time
On a quiet night of a white hot day
Whisper the things that will come our way
On a quiet night of a white hot day
Hold back the tears, hold back the tears
In time, only time
Quiet night of a white hot day
Whisper the things that will come our way
On a quiet night of a white hot day
Roll back the years, roll back the years
In time, only time, well speak for time
On a quiet night
Hold back the tears to another day
Quiet night of a white hot day
Hold back the tears, hold back the tears
Time, only time, speak for time
Quiet night of a white hot day
Whisper the things that will come our way
On a quiet night of a white hot day
Roll back the years, roll back the years
In time, only time, speak for time
Quiet night of a white hot day
Hold back the tears to another day
Quiet night of a white hot day
Words & music : james kerr, charlie burchill, mel gaynor, derek forbes, michael macneil (c) emi publishing ltd reproduced without permission
song performed by by Simple Minds
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Words Of Tears..: '(
tears speak
what words can't speak
tears tell
what words can't tell
tears express
what words can't express
tears create the magic
what words can't create
pain tears heart
pain tears the life
pain has teared my heart
pain has teared my life
the pain he gave me
i can't forget
i still remember
his breath
his voice still rings in my ear
his presence is still felt
i seem to see his face in the crowd
why? why?
his soul lives on in me
yet it is the physical frame
why can i feel his pain
is it that thread of love
that binds us till restrain..
poem by Shania Bhayana
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Rain Keeps Fallin
I remember the night so well.
The rain was fallin but I just couldnt tell,
If it was you that was callin to my love-sick brain.
But the rain kept fallin on my window pane.
Out of the night the thunder rang in my ear.
I cant fight the feelin, lord, that brings forth my fears.
I wish it was over, lord, please stop the rain.
The rain thats fallin on my window pane.
The rain thats fallin on my window pane.
Every night the rains on time, I can feel it in this heart of mine.
But I dont know what to do.
Well, I guess I could go back home, cause you know back home is where I belong.
But it just aint home without you.
And I dont know what to do, baby.
Well, I guess Im a looser but it just dont seem fair.
I lost all my life so tell me, why should I care?
The night that you left me is the night that it came.
And the rains still fallin on my window pane.
The rain keeps fallin on my window pane.
The rain keeps fallin on my window pane.
You know the rain.
The rain keeps fallin on my window pane.
I said the rain.
The rain keeps fallin on my window pane.
You know the rain.
The rain keeps fallin on my window pane.
I said the rain.
The rain keeps fallin on my window pane.
You know the rain ...
The rain keeps fallin on my window pane.
... keeps right on fallin.
The rain keeps fallin on my window pane.
I said, the rain keeps fallin ...
song performed by by Grand Funk Railroad
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The old mirror
I look in the mirror tainted and old
What do i see? ?
I see this woman staring back at me
She does'nt speak, she does'nt smile
She looks lost with a frown
I look in the mirror is it something from the 50's?
What do i see? ?
I see this man staring back at me
He does'nt wave he does'nt nod
He stands and stares with a glare
I look in the mirror the frame varnished dark
What do i see? ?
I see this girl staring back at me
She does'nt laugh or d a cheeky face
She turns away and begins to cry
I look in the mirror round and smoke stained
What do i see? ?
I see this boy staring back at me
Glasses and combed over hair
I wonder who they are
the people in the old mirror
~nikki addleton ~
poem by Nikki Addleton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Razel’s Song To Melodie
I will freeze
your feelings one by one,
You will
go completely numb.
I will teach you to ignore,
what all of your feelings are for.
You will not be able to cry at will,
You will be mine to control with this
Little pill.
This pill is a freeze emotion pill
all linked and controlled by me,
Feeling like your helpless and weak,
I will make it hard for you to speak.
Speak your mind and say your thoughts,
'You are mine don’t you know it!
How dare you speak out! ! '
Yes, you were born to be controlled
until 16 years of age,
by then you will be totally Iceranean!
What? How dare you not play
my frozen emotion game!
I’m in control, you stay the same! ”
Copyright 2006 Christina Sunrise
poem by Christina Sunrise
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Oh Lady, Let the Sad Tears Fall
Oh Lady, let the sad tears fall
To speak thy pain,
Gently as through the silver dusk
The silver rain.
Oh, let thy bosom breathe its grief
In such soft sigh
As hath the wind in gardens where
Pale roses die.
poem by Adelaide Crapsey
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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