Balcony
Balcony
By Ashraf Gohar Goreja
Sweet laughter, melodic and dulcet chatters
Evaporating smell of blooming fragrance
Confining beauties, descended from the blue havens
Afternoon hours of sobering rest
But this somber, lonely street was alive with zest.
Devout friends, their glamour and laughter in the balcony
Unimaginable saga of adventuring love
Conferred onto those passing by strangers
Who never pay heed to inducing allure
Merely, this enchanting mise en scene is demure
Copyright: June 30th,2003.
Ashraf Gohar goreja
poem by Ashraf Gohar Goreja
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Related quotes
Virtue Of Silence
Reflections of deep silence
after solitary mid-night hours,
when the conspiring souls
apprehend their day-long chatters
which they conceal in
their formidable sorrow.
Revival is unfailing, on the morrow.
Deep solitude brought me
on the verge of long seclusion
with my dreams entrapped in the nest
of my grieved but acquitted mind.
No end to it, I ever find.
Your beauty, charm and glamour,
celebrative to their immense merits,
like the ambrosian valleys
where eyes remain staring
at beauteous, vast sparing.
Fatigued and weary moments
of perilous voyage of life,
are casting day by day
and night by night,
unrhetorical spells to fright.
Yet, I celebrate my solitude,
in the wake of your forgetfulness
and you know that I was
alone all along during the span of life
awaiting for virtue of peace, and not a strife.
Copyright May 19,2003
Ashraf Gohar Goreja
poem by Ashraf Gohar Goreja
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The month of June
In the month of June
I composed a melodic tune
Ahead of time before the clocks struck noon
Later at night I waited to sing it out in full moon
June is the smell of sweet fresh roses
A beautiful rosy sixth month it exposes
And with the sweetness of each day
The sky clouds smile brightful and gay
Good Afternoon, My little summer butterflies
In June we can play where yellow meadows lie
We can observe little rivers flow into lagoons
And the mellifluent wildlife retreat into cocoons
And if love where to blossom it will do so quite soon
Because there is something about the month of June
As the longest daylight hours a year balloon
All marriage hopes are not left marooned
June is a beautiful month to sing
And listen to loud wedding bells ring
In this long awaited summer month
The mood of happiness is all June fronts
Copyright 2009 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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Love, Laughter, And You
Three things that make my life complete
Are love, laughter, and you, my sweet
The laughter has lasted since day one
Loving you darling, has been so much fun
Whether it's giggles at the kitchen table
Or all out laughter wherever we're able
Each and every laugh, a symbol of our love
You're my everything, all I ever dreamt of
Our love, now that's a bit more serious
Shining through when our laughter is delirious
Starting the day with love's tenderness
Saying goodnight with a sweet caress
Love, laughter, and of course you.
You bring into my life the other two
From the day we met, and for every single day
Love and laughter in our lives will stay
poem by Harry J. Couchon Jr
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So this is all a game
So this is all a game
I put my name tag on
You look at my face
Complete
And you are there lurking
From a balcony
Looking at me
I am real. I am the specimen.
You are all wearing masks
In a balcony of
Darkness
I am real.
And you all laughed so hard
“How can this real guy be so stupid? ”
The bastards are still alive.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Miracle for Breakfast
At six o'clock we were waiting for coffee,
waiting for coffee and the charitable crumb
that was going to be served from a certain balcony
--like kings of old, or like a miracle.
It was still dark. One foot of the sun
steadied itself on a long ripple in the river.
The first ferry of the day had just crossed the river.
It was so cold we hoped that the coffee
would be very hot, seeing that the sun
was not going to warm us; and that the crumb
would be a loaf each, buttered, by a miracle.
At seven a man stepped out on the balcony.
He stood for a minute alone on the balcony
looking over our heads toward the river.
A servant handed him the makings of a miracle,
consisting of one lone cup of coffee
and one roll, which he proceeded to crumb,
his head, so to speak, in the clouds--along with the sun.
Was the man crazy? What under the sun
was he trying to do, up there on his balcony!
Each man received one rather hard crumb,
which some flicked scornfully into the river,
and, in a cup, one drop of the coffee.
Some of us stood around, waiting for the miracle.
I can tell what I saw next; it was not a miracle.
A beautiful villa stood in the sun
and from its doors came the smell of hot coffee.
In front, a baroque white plaster balcony
added by birds, who nest along the river,
--I saw it with one eye close to the crumb--
and galleries and marble chambers. My crumb
my mansion, made for me by a miracle,
through ages, by insects, birds, and the river
working the stone. Every day, in the sun,
at breakfast time I sit on my balcony
with my feet up, and drink gallons of coffee.
We licked up the crumb and swallowed the coffee.
A window across the river caught the sun
as if the miracle were working, on the wrong balcony.
poem by Elizabeth Bishop
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Laughter
Laughter
Mole-like token let it be bestowed on you
Laughter
Bell-like liquid an outpour light and blue
Laughter
The joyful cords in music born blessed throats
Laughter
The happy rowing in plenitude golden boats
Laughter
Running wild shaking bellies to dance
Laughter
Sweet disease swell infective trance
Laughter
The tongue tip peeping to mock the hands of time
Laughter
The gift of he’s she’s of you’re we’re or I’m
Laughter
The blissful eyes when joyful tears go down
Laughter
The king or queen carrying the highest crown
©Miroslava Odalovic
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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On Emerging From Puddles Of Moonlight
we made a pact-
raka and i
that on every kartik purnima night
he will glow in your balcony
and in mine as well
and stealthily set ablaze
the distance between us
in one sweep
did he swoop down
and left a mark of whisper
behind my ear
on his way back
he carried away
a part of me
and laughed
teasingly at me
the laughter reverberating through
the moon-bitten sky
did you hear the laughter?
tonight at 22.40hrs
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Lonely Paradise
I thought the sobbing so sweet the day that I had to say goodbye
Now I am in paradise alone it’s those tears that really make me cry
Perfume in the air from flowers I cannot name
Birds on my balcony that I don’t need to tame
It’s a lonely paradise
A lonely lovely paradise
That isn’t the same without you
That makes the blue sky days seems blue
Lovers on the beach saying hello to me as they walk on by
I check my phone for messages seeing if you are there just to say hi.
I thought that I wanted to get away – far away
To numb the pain – but the tropical winds just fans the flames
It’s a lonely paradise
A lonely lovely paradise
That isn’t the same without you
That makes the turquoise sea seen so - oh so blue
It’s a lonely paradise
A lonely, lonely paradise
poem by Michael WheelerWyatt
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Swan Dive
The windows were open
The night air was cold,
The curtains were blowing
Like ribbons of gold,
We stood there forever
Both Henry and me,
The night his wife dived
Off the balcony.
We looked at each other
We each shook our head,
And waited to hear if
The poor girl was dead,
I looked at my watch
It was just after three,
When Gwendoline dived
Off the balcony.
I waited a moment, then:
'What did I say?
Was that a faux pas about
You in Calais?
Or did she take umbrage
When I poured the tea?
Is that why she jumped
Off the balcony? '
'Don't think for a moment,
Old chap, ' he had said,
'I thought she had mumbled
And stumbled to bed!
She'd said she had someone
Tomorrow to see,
So why would she dive
Off the balcony? '
We walked very gingerly
Out through the door,
And peered on down from
The fifty-sixth floor,
I thought I could see a small
Splat by a tree,
Just where she had dived
Off the balcony.
Could that be your Gwendoline,
There on the ground?
That's funny, she dived all
That way, made no sound!
Not one little scream -
Did you hear? ' - 'Not me! '
When Gwendoline dived
Off the balcony.
The police galloped up
By the lift, through the doors,
'That splat in the courtyard, sir,
Could it be yours? '
Then Henry admitted that
It could well be,
His wife, who had dived
Off the balcony!
They made us go down with
A bucket and mop:
'Clean up every vestige,
Remove every drop!
You can't go round leaving
Wives haphazardly,
Whenever they dive
Off the balcony! '
They made us feel humble,
We lowered our heads,
I picked up her armpits,
He mopped up her legs,
But bits of her weren't where
In truth, they should be,
When Gwendoline dived
Off the balcony.
Much later he told me that
Wives one and two,
Had left in the very same way,
I said, 'True? '
It seems Gwendoline had been
Wife number three,
Who'd taken a dive
Off the balcony.
Now Henry has married
Again, number four,
He's moved his apartment down
To the ground floor,
He locks all his windows
And tells Stephanie,
'Don't ever you dive like
Wives one, two and three! '
3 June 2009
poem by David Lewis Paget
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You want to go to Spain
You want to go to Spain
and next to the Mediterranean
buy a villa
and stay in a big old house
with balcony windows.
You want to sit at a cafe
in the street
and paint paintings
of the scene around you
and sell them right there
and get lunch at a small table
with French bread, cheese
and a bottle of sweet wine
and look at how friendly
the sun shines there
and late in the afternoon
you want to take siesta
and for a time
go and lie on a big old bed
under fans
or against the hillock
walk in fields
of purple lavender,
but the language there is foreign
and I wonder what more
and how a person fits
into such a place
between people
with a different culture?
poem by Gert Strydom
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I Hear The Laughter
Writers: leo sayer & johnny vastano
Listning to the falling rain
Always seems to bring her back again
I can remember like it was yesterday
Sound of her voice, her look upon her face
Like children playing childrens games
We joked and laughed at evry passing day
Im so much older, things have changed
Ive realized that now its just too late
I hear the laughter echoin through my brain
I hear the laughter then Im alone again
I tried to forget her heaven knows
Seems theres no direction left to go
I can remember like it was yesterday
I hear the laughter then Im alone again
Im alone again, alone again
I wish that I could hold you now
I wish that I could turn this all around
Its just my foolish fantasy
But that wont bring your sweet love back to me
I hear the laughter, somebody called my name
I hear the laughter and I can feel the pain
I hear the laughter echoing through my brain
I hear the laughter then Im alone again
I hear the laughter, I hear the laughter
song performed by by Leo Sayer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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From a Great Height.
Beneath her balcony he’d sing
and promise love eternally.
The maiden spurned his offering.
She knew of his philandering.
But undeterred he’d nightly sing.
Experienced in the ways of maids.
He knew she would be listening
to hear his mandolin tinkling.
Eventually she would relent
appear upon the balcony.
Although she doubted his intent.
By trial and experiment.
He’d found that curiosity
A fatal weakness in young maids
would bring her to the balcony.
It always worked successfully.
It always had done in the past.
This maid was made of sterner stuff.
She vowed tonight would be the last
and down upon his head she cast.
The contents of her chamber pot.
Which served to dampen his ardour
Attar of roses it was not.
Although he deserved what he got.
I felt some little sympathy
to see him so discomfited.
To be drenched unexpectedly
in his intended victims pee.
A message that he’d not forget.
This lady was no easy prey.
The chamber pot she had upset
Has soaked him in Eau de Toilet.
He quickly hurried from the scene.
His pride damaged beyond repair.
His parting comments were obscene.
At least I thought they must have been..
No longer does the troubadour
Sing below her balcony
Sweet serenades about amour
No one has seen him any more.
07/09/2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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A Little Spark of Laughter
A little spark of laughter is what we need each day.
It's something like the apple to keep the doctor away.
Some can find the laughter. Their lives are pretty good.
Some would love some laughter. I know that they would.
But, laughter in their lives is only a memory.
It has been replaced with constant misery.
Their lives are torn
Their babies born
With sickness and disease.
They have no home.
They walk and roam
No blankets as they freeze.
No food to eat
No water sweet
And end to all their peace.
And so there is no laughter to help them everyday.
In fact there is no laughter to help in any way.
So, be thankful if you have the spark of laughter that you need.
And pray for those who have none, that God will intercede.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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It was just a typical London flat, but it was in a great neighborhood. It was across from the Playboy Club, diagonally. From one balcony you could read the time from Big Ben, and from the other balcony you could watch the bunnies go up and down.
quote by Harry Nilsson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Their meaningless laughter
The other day I had had, The smell of spellbound emitted from her love, That made me sorrowful and as a dead man later on, But the blooming flowers were laughing and told at last- 'You are in a state of being intoxicated...try to get out of obsession.'
My question was to them-
Do you know that scientist Einstein were fall in love too?
They again laugh and laugh, Meaningless laughter.
I was inflamed and so shouted- 'stop your laughter, You are emitting illusions too, I know.
poem by Sarwar Chowdhury
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Early June Girls
While walking
Along the street
On a sunny afternoon
Of late spring
The air was filled
With the heavy smell
Of carcinogenic gases
Emitted by
The rolling cars.
Oh! How I
Loved the aroma
Of gasoline
In my childhood.
While walking
On a sunny afternoon
Of late spring
The petrol
In the street
Was mixed
With the hovering
Exciting scent
Of by-passing
Early-June girls.
poem by Paul Hartal
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Sunset Redness
In the sunset redness
When the twilight
With its red color
The color of blood and red roses
The rustic color where romance of years
Has receded in rust
Of the old mans hedge
Or balcony
Or the love of a fighter
When he suddenly discovers
That his long cherished gun
Has gone rustic
Or that small dog
When we watched his movie
Years ago
And the laughter in our small lounge
The sweet memories of the past
And the sunset redness
When it gathers itself from the face of earth
And then in the form of a ball
Rolls itself down the sea
The most beautiful sunset of the earth
Like a huge red drop
Or in desert
The sunset
Going down into the dust
The dark blue night
To cover it
Where were you
Where was the strength of your memory
Why I did not catch wings
To bring you closer to me
Why I did not realize
That this moment today
Will die for ever
Except in my memories
On those dusty roads and clean beaches
In my amazement
And as I was lost
Why you did not call me
Tell me
Why you did not call me
Through the air
And your eyes
Having fixed on me
Why did not I hear your whispers
Why did not you tell me
That this moment is so precious
That sunset redness
In the sea and the desert
This time
Remember
Call me and call me again
For these beauties on earth
These beauties
And ones like you
Torment me
And then haunt me in my dreams
poem by Sadiqullah Khan
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Your Laughter
YOUR LAUGHTER
Your laughter,
a blossoming bud,
eyes like peacock,
vivacious, sweet your laughter,
what are the feelings,
on your faces,
your laughter,
like a melodious rain,
creates sensations in the heart,
your laughter
benumbs the eyes
i pray,
you carry on laughing
poem by Dr. Ram Sharma
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J-Love In Our Ages Love In Stages
In the first month
Love was tentative
Love was laughter
Love was ecstasy
In the second month
Love made questions
Love made laughter
Love made richness
In the third month
Love gave friendship
Love gave laughter
Love gave family
In the fourth month
Love became promise
Love became laughter
Love became spring
In the fifth month
Love grew flowers
Love grew laughter
Love grew deeper
June 2,1997
poem by Marjorie DeBol DeFazio
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Let get laughter way out of yourself
Let get laughter way out of yourself
Make the happy sound awake
Laughter magic and enchanting
Don't sustain it in your soul
Let yourself go into joy
May it help forever
People from wherever
Getting circled together
Laughter can be a kind of help
A worthy enemy to distress
Rise this laughter so dear
To be heard by human ears
Make it go on around the world
Little chuckles happy giggles
So many ways of laughing
Don't fear the others comment
Let laughter way out of yourself
Be assured laughter is magic
Open your heart to this very
Very special kind of sound
Let get laughter way out of yourself
Make the happy sound awake
(Switzerland)
(Sitzerland)
poem by Morhardt Carmen Mencita Monoi Angel
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