Fog...
the fog
that envelops
the barren tree
hiding
protecting
sheltering
its gloomy existence
highlights
the reality
that our inner self
is hidden
behind nothing
but a mist
a mist of illusion
poem by Ridah Ellahi
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The Dew Drops Mist
Whatever it is that you've been told...
As the dew drops mist,
Each morning that unfolds...
Mother Nature to this is committed.
To all things that exist.
And even you and I...
We are caught up the mix.
Whatever the season that comes to leave,
We may have our differences and do not agree.
But,
Nonstop Mother Nature shows...
Everything that lives,
She assists its growth.
And you and I can do what we like.
In between the fussing, cussing and fights.
You and I can decide to hide or be seen...
But mother Nature is there!
And always on the ecene.
It doesn't matter if we chit chat or scatter.
Upon this existence the dew drops mist.
It doesn't matter if we scatter without chatter.
Upon this existence the dew drops mist.
And,
We can be a little rich or poor.
Or never answer a knock on our doors.
It doesn't matter if we chit chat or scatter.
Upon this existence the dew drops mist.
Whatever the season that comes to leave,
We may have our differences and do not agree.
But,
Nonstop Mother Nature shows...
Upon this existence the dew drops mist.
Every morning when you're yawning and it's dawn,
On this existence the dew drops mist.
It doesn't matter in your life what's going on,
'Cause...
In this existence the dew drops mist.
Whatever it is that you've been told...
As the dew drops mist,
Each morning that unfolds...
Mother Nature to this is committed.
To all things that exist.
And even you and I...
We are caught up the mix.
So,
Every morning when you're yawning and it's dawn,
On this existence the dew drops mist.
It doesn't matter in your life what's going on,
'Cause...
In this existence the dew drops mist.
Whatever the season that comes to leave,
We may have our differences and do not agree.
But,
Nonstop Mother Nature shows it and knows...
Upon this existence the dew drops mist.
Whatever the season that comes to leave,
We may have our differences and do not agree.
But,
Nonstop Mother Nature shows it and knows...
Upon this existence the dew drops mist.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Last Answers
I wrote a poem on the mist
And a woman asked me what I meant by it.
I had thought till then only of the beauty of the mist,
how pearl and gray of it mix and reel,
And change the drab shanties with lighted lamps at evening
into points of mystery quivering with color.
I answered:
The whole world was mist once long ago and some day
it will all go back to mist,
Our skulls and lungs are more water than bone and tissue
And all poets love dust and mist because all the last answers
Go running back to dust and mist.
poem by Carl Sandburg
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Mist Hidden Fantasy
The mad piper played the hornpipe
in the evening mist near the fairy glade
and water sprites dances across the lochs waters.
The monster roared from the depth below
in keeping with the tune
and a wolf howled at a hidden moon
on a hill draped with heather.
Owlets awoke with watchful eyes
as their mother swooped from the skies.
The mist rolled down the glen,
then up the hill at the other end.
The castle stood faintly still
as shadows watched from the brow of the hill.
You could not call this the dead of night
with all the watchful eyes hidden from sight.
Still, the mad piper played
his tunes of joyful reverie
while the moon remained
in the mist hidden from sight.
poem by David Harris
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Aryan Mist
Aryan mist
Among the bridges
You hang by the river
Youve been here forever
Aryan mist
What can the matter be
In a world full of glamour
Does it lift you up
Or is it railway carriage charm
You just sit here
And look from your carriage
As you watch the scene go by
Gurus from the east
Gurus from the west
Does it lift you up
Or is it railway carriage charm
Aryan mist
Among the bridges
You hang by the river
Youve been here forever
Aryan mist
Aryan mist
Theres so many people
Going down by the river
Down by the river
To get clean
The fog of illusion
The fog of confusion
Is hanging all over the world
Gurus from the east
Gurus from the west
Does it lift you up
Or is it railway carriage charm
Aryan mist
Youve been here forever
Remind me of krishna
Love first sweet kiss
Aryan mist
Aryan mist
Among the bridges
You hang by the river
Youve been here forever
Aryan mist
Does it lift you up
Or is it railway carriage charm
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Mist
Through the mist I wander.
With all the time to ponder.
Beasts of such ferocity come at me with such intensity.
I continue on of neccesity,
to find a true philosophy.
The mists so dense.
I need to make recommpence.
For all that's wrong I must confess.
I cannot stand this lonley test.
In the mist and in the midst.
I'm truly blind it gives me fits.
The mist is thick,
it eats you cold and quick.
Beats you madly like a switch.
The mist is dark it kills the heart.
Madly eats you like a shark.
The mist is cold and I grow old.
Hopefully soon I'll find my hold.
poem by Michael McParland
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Religion And Magic
Who are these fellows?
Religion - Magic
Are they siblings who seem remarkably similar?
Are they identical twins - fantastically alike in all things?
Are they but two sides of the same coin - the coin of illusion?
Which came first - religion or magic?
The answer remains shrouded in the dim mists
Of our early steps on the stage of our existence
Magic - creator of illusion masked as reality
Religion - creator of illusion from reality
Both create illusion - purvey the same mask
Magic and religion present illusion as truth
This is my view
Another may be for you
Yet know this - If you believe illusion be truth or truth illusion
The result is the same.
Claude H Oliver II
4/28/2012
poem by Claude H Oliver II
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Stone, Mirror and Mist
Stone, mirror and mist;
All enrapture me.
I can’t resist
Time’s trinity.
As I try in the mirror
To change the stone,
Mist draws nearer
Till I can’t see on my own.
Then I turn my attention
To the mirror at hand;
Stone in mind, but not mention;
Mist shifting like sand.
I battle the mirror.
There can be only one.
When image is clearer
I’ll know I have won.
Only then will mist clear.
Stone will have no say.
A bygone will be fear
And I’ll be on my way.
poem by Gregory Huyette
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Mist Of Desire
Well, here it comes again
That old feelin' so strong
You came into my life
I won your love for a song
And when I see you in my mind baby
Think of the words you will say
And in a mist of desire
Your love takes me away
Girl you take me away
In a mist of desire
And our love's not an ember baby
It's a raging fire
I need to be with you
What else can I say
In a mist of desire
Your love takes me away
I feel the love when we touch
I can see it in your face
I get lost in the shadows of your warm embrace
And you rush into my arms
My emotions run wild
And we're off to a love world
In a mist of desire
Girl you take me away
In a mist of desire
And our love's not an ember baby
It's a raging fire
I need to be with you
What else can I say
In a mist of desire
Your love takes me away
In a mist of desire
Your love takes me away
song performed by by Alabama
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Heinelet II
They met, as it were, in a mist,
Pale, curious, eager, uncertain.
When each clasped the other and kissed,
The mist rolled aside like a curtain.
There were fields of delight to explore,
Where it seemed that their lips could not sever.
Now their lips are as lone as before
And the cold mist is thicker than ever.
poem by Gamaliel Bradford
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The children of the Mist
Through the valleys, softly creeping
‘Mid the tree-tops, tempest-tossed,
see the cloud-forms seeking, peeping
For the loved ones that are lost.
Not for storm or sunshine resting,
Will they slacken or desist,
Or grow weary in their questing
For the children of the mist.
Where are those children hiding?
Surely they will soon return,
In the gorge again abiding
‘Mid the myrtle and the fern.
Ah! the dusky forms departed
Nevermore will keep their tryst,
And the clouds, alone, sad-hearted,
mourn the Children of the Mist.
E’en the wild bush-creatures, scattered,
Ere they die renew their race,
And the pine, by levin shattered,
Leaves an heir to take his place.
Though each forest thing, forth stealing,
Year by year the clouds have kissed,
Vainly are those white arms feeling
For the children of the mist.
Dead the race, beyond awaking,
Ere its task was well begun;
Human hearts that throbbed to breaking
Are but dust beneath the sun.
Past all dreams of vengeance-wreaking,
Blown where’er the tempests list.
. . . . . . . .
But the cloud-forms still are seeking
For the children of the mist.
poem by Frank Dalby Davison
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Comes The Changes
When the days are full of fun,
Bright, warm with a lovely sun,
Suddenly comes the changes,
There’s a mist across the moon.
When a face displays a smile,
And it’s trying to beguile,
Suddenly comes the changes,
There’s a mist across the moon.
When one’s heart begins to fly,
Finding love with a great guy,
Suddenly comes the changes,
There’s a mist across the moon.
Life’s full of times that shatter,
The things that really matter,
Suddenly comes the changes,
There’s no mist across the moon.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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In the spirit of Rumi - 64 - Language
It’s a misty morning,
clings gently to the skin,
it’s pleasant like this,
let’s walk
oh here’s an apple tree,
you can touch the mist on the apple’s skin
ah, it must be a whole orchard,
how the mist makes it such an adventure
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Lament
Where are those dazzling hills touched by the sun,
Those crags in childhood that I used to climb?
Hidden, hidden under mist is yonder mountain,
Hidden is the heart.
A day of cloud, a lifetime falls between,
Gone are the heather moors and the pure stream,
Gone are the rocky places and the green,
Hidden, hidden under sorrow is yonder mountain,
Hidden, hidden.
O storm and gale of tears, whose blinding screen
Makes weather of grief, snow's drifting curtain
Palls th'immortal heights once seen.
Hidden, hidden is the heart,
Hidden, hidden is the heart.
poem by Kathleen Jessie Raine
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Yet This Is The Mist I Missed
You insisted the mist,
I should miss...
In the midst,
Of intimacy.
Was mist missed,
But not...
In the midst,
Of what we did...
To do.
This sits with me not to forget.
Yet this is the mist,
I missed.
In remission reminiscing,
Intimately we did kiss.
And without specific resistance,
You permitted done...
We did...
To let do.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Sonnet. Written Upon The Top Of Ben Nevis
Read me a lesson, Muse, and speak it loud
Upon the top of Nevis, blind in mist!
I look into the chasms, and a shroud
Vapourous doth hide them, -- just so much I wist
Mankind do know of hell; I look o'erhead,
And there is sullen mist, -- even so much
Mankind can tell of heaven; mist is spread
Before the earth, beneath me, -- even such,
Even so vague is man's sight of himself!
Here are the craggy stones beneath my feet,--
Thus much I know that, a poor witless elf,
I tread on them, -- that all my eye doth meet
Is mist and crag, not only on this height,
But in the world of thought and mental might!
poem by John Keats
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The Mist
The mist on the water that forms over night
gives an eerie sight to my eyes.
It lingers sometimes for an hour or two
and as it lifts to the skies
I see the lake that's been hidden from view
and all seems right to my sight.
Its rippling movement on breezy days
mirror like imagery at night.
It's home to frogs and ducks at play
and the fish that jump catching flies.
And sometimes when I am lucky enough
much to my surprise
herons and egrets of snowy white
come and land on the banks.
They stalk their prey in stately manner
hoping to pull off their pranks.
So when the mist returns to my lake
I do not get forlorn.
For underneath the mist that's there
is my lake in later morn.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Hostage's Illusion
Help!
Being held hostage
by Reality
call the Illusion Police
who can come to stage
my imaginary release
whereby I can triumphantly
return to Reality
where my bonds
have been illusioned away
by a Reality
which provides me
a different kind of Illusion
such that I can have
my free choice
between the two;
and which is which
between I and you.
Suddenly you touch me
and I am confused
and retreat to my
preferred
illusion;
an add-on.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Mist and Tears
There's a mist that's forming
over the trees I see.
The sight of it forming
does something to me.
It blurs the vision
in my ageing eyes.
It dulls my senses
and I realize that
mist and tears
that quickly form
are for me the silence
before the storm.
Ah! the storm I say
is making its way
into my wakefulness
on every day.
There's no way to escape
this enveloping mist
unless I feel that
I've just been kissed
by you.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Metal Militia
Thunder and lightning the gods take revenge
Senseless destruction
Victems of fury are cowardly now
Running for safety
Stabbing the harlot to pay for her sins
Leaving the virgin
Suicide running as if it were free
Ripping and tearing
On through the mist and the madness
We are trying to get the message to you
Metal Militia
Metal Militia
Metal Militia
Chained and shadowed to be left behind
nine and one thousand
Metal militia for your sacrifice
iron clad soldiers
Join or be conquered the law of the land
What will befall you
The metalization of your inner soul
twisting and turning
On through the mist and the madness
We are trying to get the message to you
Metal Militia
Metal Militia
Metal Militia
We are as one as we all are the same
fighting for one cause
Leather and metal are our uniforms
protecting what we are
Joining together to take on the world
with our heavy metal
Spreading the message to everyone here
Come let yourself go
On through the mist and the madness
We are trying to get the message to you
Metal Militia
Metal Militia
Metal Militia
song performed by by Metallica from Kill 'Em All
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Why must I? for Cp Sharma
Why must I
The mist is lifting slowly. So
I can see the way ahead.
Although I’m not allowed to know
my future fate. I need not dread.
The Unknown hidden by the mist
evaporated by the sun.
I will go on I will persist
until my distant goal is won.
The quest embarked upon at birth
which will not end until I die.
My sojourn on the planet earth
but always I must question why.
I have no choice but journey on
No one can answer my question.
27/05/2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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