Gazals 5
1.
When breath is over
you return to your origin
at will or without will.
But breath does not bother
who is retuning
and who is not.
2.
Wind is hawker of
fragrance of rose
When there is no wind
what happens to rose.
3.
Death is my company
since my birth
We walk together
We play together
Oneday
we shall die together.
poem by Devil Poet
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A Rose To Remember....
i am reading about the death of a rose
i am reflecting about
death of freedom
it is all about a rose, a wilting rose, a brown rose,
a dry rose
each petal falling softly on the ground
a dry ground full of sand and pebbles
all footprints covered
abandoned, i am talking
about the death of a rose, the death of the freedom of the rose
the death of freedom, the rose of death, the freedom of death,
is it you now that i talk about? that i must remember?
have i met you before when i was but a thorn, a worm, a leaf?
was i the sand
a pebble, the wind? will you be a rose forever?
is there death in you?
i feel the wind, i smell the rose,
there is no death....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Red, Red Rose
Red, red rose, she blew her breath
Fingers, it’s stem she caressed
Then she closed her eyes and breathed the fragrance in
Tell me red, red rose, where does love end
She placed the rose, gently against her lips
She plucked a single petal, with finger tips
And as the wind caught and carried up high
Tell me red, red rose, can love it fly
Slowly one by one, each petal fell
Upon the last in her eye, a tear it swelled
And then she sighed as she asked to her self
Tell me red, red rose, is for love, is this what’s left
Red, red rose, red, red rose
You stand for love you should know
Should we hold on tight with all our might
Must one day we let go
Red, red rose, red, red rose
Your petals fly in the breeze
If I let go, red, red rose
What becomes of me.
Copyright 2006 Bill Simmons
aka BillWilliamStar
[email protected]
poem by Bill Simmons
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Rose’s rose rose
Rose’s rose rose
In the light of the day
While the wind blows
Round its flowers of the lightest rosé.
Rose’s rose rose
In a way Rose may
When she grows
As her rose
Shows
How it grows
And by the end of the day
When her rose’s flowers’d close
And its head would sway
In the wind, Rose would say:
“My rose, as you rose
In the light of the day
Did you notice those,
The sounds of your stay?
Not only those of the day,
But, too, the ones of the dark, rose,
The ones of the dark and the moon in its pose.
Did you notice those, rose?
Did you notice those? ”
And the rose would know
What Rose would want to say
And it would sleep
With its flowers of the lightest rosé.
Milk White, Blood-Red
Gently as wind blows
Sways the beauty of the Milk White rose
Day and night that rose stays
Its beauty drawing people closer
Its thorns keeping them away
The rose stays here
As seasons pass it by
The petals have worn
As the wind made it fly
A single rose seed
Falls onto the ground
And the Milk White rose
Now dead
Gave birth safe and sound
To a rose of Blood Red
poem by Monina Furigay
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White Rose
WHITE ROSE
On Palmach Street a suddenly seen
White rose pierces my heart
As in Rilke’s angels’ dream-
What does it mean?
This beautiful day after the rain
The wind as the world’s Breath-
Blake’s sick rose’s death-
What does it mean?
To find in worlds of things words
Which hint at some other Beauty hidden elsewhere-
What does it mean?
God is here-
‘But what must Heaven be, ’
Emily from her small room in Amherst asks,
‘When God is somewhere else? ’
Poets ask
And poets dream
What does Poetry mean?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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The Wind That Ever Blows
The wind that ever blows,
opens my heart's Rose.
The clouds on the face of Sun,
playing with wind and all over Run.
The chirp of sparrow makes me to feel,
gazing in the sky standing on my heel.
The wind that ever blows,
Opens my heart's Rose.
The Blue color of the Sky gives pleasure to my eyes,
like, wants to take me out from the world of lies.
The rustling of leaves makes me gay,
to stand up and with them play.
The wind that ever blows,
opens my heart's Rose.
This time I just want one,
The ALLAH EXALTED (GOD) and NONE,
and this time except HIM no one my feeling knows,
The Wind that ever Blows,
Opens my heart's Rose....
(SEEMA REHMAN)
poem by Seema Rehman
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Nocturn
I walk, I only,
Not I only wake;
Nothing is, this sweet night,
But doth couch and wake
For its love's sake;
Everything, this sweet night,
Couches with its mate.
For whom but for the stealthy-visitant sun
Is the naked moon
Tremulous and elate?
The heaven hath the earth
Its own and all apart;
The hush-ed pool holdeth
A star to its heart.
You may think the rose sleepeth,
But though she folded is,
The wind doubts her sleeping;
Not all the rose sleeps,
But smiles in her sweet heart
For crafty bliss.
The wind lieth with the rose,
And when he stirs, she stirs in her repose:
The wind hath the rose,
And the rose her kiss.
Ah, mouth of me!
Is it then that this
Seemeth much to thee?--
I wander only.
The rose hath her kiss.
poem by Francis Thompson
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A Season of Wine and Roses
Remember when the wine was red,
and the rose was red, as well ~
and how the two were wed as one,
when the sunlight softly fell.
The pinkened kiss, the gentle blush,
beneath a soft, green canopy ~
and wine flowed there beside the rose,
'til sunlight set on autumn's eve.
And there within the autumn's breath,
came an orange and golden kiss ~
that found the wine and lovely rose,
beguiled by summer's bliss...
remembering when the wine was sweet,
and the rose was a budding bloom ~
and velvet was the reddened wine,
when the red rose danced in June.
Thinly brown, with winter's death,
the vine and thorn entwine ~
and wait impatiently for spring,
when, once more, a life they'll find.
And now upon the chilling wind,
there's a whisper that gently fell ~
'Remember when the wine was red,
and the rose was red, as well'...
poem by Hazelmarie Elliott
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Love Come To Me
Love, come to me in rose of red,
to lie upon my loveless bed ~
now filled with thorns of passions past,
into the wind, the thorns I cast.
Love, come to me in lilac hue,
with scented breath of lilac blue
and essence of love's lost repast ~
into the wind, lost love I cast.
Love, come to me in leaves of green,
with greening leaves of emerald sheen ~
awaiting in the brambling bough,
into the wind, I cast love now.
Love, come to me in yellowed fields,
lined with the golden daffodils ~
awaiting love to come along,
into the wind, I cast love's song.
Love, come to me in rose of red,
to rest and dream upon my bed ~
with scented breath of lilac blue
and daffodils of golden hue.
Love, come to me in nature's light.
It pleasures me with every sight ~
of red, and blue, and golden hue,
into the wind, I cast love true.
poem by Hazelmarie Elliott
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Just One Rose...
that's a homework i need you to tell me if i should hand it to the teacher or not...(:
just one rose, a pretty rose...
just one rose for me with no coze...
just one rose pure and true...
just one rose for me is all i can do...
just one rose somewhere out there...
just one rose for me to care...
just one rose when dark days prevail...
just one rose when people only use petrail...
just one rose and all the time...
just one rosefor me is a crime...
poem by rose of death XxX
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Our Obligations Towards This World
showered with rights
from birth and even to the last breath
i also impose upon myself
these obligations: that i be not another burden
to your suffering
that i be but a gentle wind passing
touching your hair with the comfort
that i like you
is another free soul
a body with the limitations of my skin
so my bones may not fall
before you
that i must project the image of
the smiling
cheerful son of God
the pains i subsume
the hurts that i do not bother myself with
the walk of a man satisfied
with what is given
the look of the day's happy hour
alone, must i suffer
alone, i must not tell
for you too have burdens of your own
shall i have the shame of
adding mine?
i go where fate takes me
and i won't stop till everybody is happy.
that i am not a burden to you
and you not to me perhaps,
is enough of this good life
a basket of white daisies
an apple in my hand
a little singing bird on my hair
a red rose for you.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Sea Rose
Rose, harsh rose,
marred and with stint of petals,
meagre flower, thin,
sparse of leaf,
more precious
than a wet rose
single on a stem --
you are caught in the drift.
Stunted, with small leaf,
you are flung on the sand,
you are lifted
in the crisp sand
that drives in the wind.
Can the spice-rose
drip such acrid fragrance
hardened in a leaf?
poem by Hilda Doolittle
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First rose
A heart of youthful year was yearning,
Crying out the pain; the burning
Tears would e’er remain until
An answer from the man would see them die.
A sympathetic mirror blessed her –
Softened up the curves, caressed her
Skin to help regain a calm –
Assuage a heaving breast and blushing eye.
And through a struggling mind, a chiming:
Someone at the door; the timing
Perfect and exquisite in the
Reconciliation of her woes.
She took the oak to make the parting,
‘Here! ’ a presentation startling.
Drawing deep through radiant lips, she
Kissed her very dream: a crimson rose.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
rose rose rose rose: : rose rose rose rose
rose rose rose rose: : rose rose rose rose
rose rose rose rose: : rose rose rose rose
rose rose rose rose: : rose rose rose rose
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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How Can You Be So Unforgiving?
many times i watch you
you are very near
my breath touches your
skin
my tongue is restrained
it is true
you do not bore me
you give life like a song
of a dying bird
when i listen you start
to play with your wings
and the wind
is perplexed
when i kiss you
you begin to fly away from my
tongue which has always
been true
as ever
like the ray of the sun
to the petal of
the rose
that is my only mistake
you are not forgiving
my breath touches the shadows
of your footsteps
my tongue licks the mud.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Rose is a bomb
People with wise always claim
Rose is a bomb
She causes things into ruin
Work and life
They fade away when she’s in bloom
When the silly tend to believe
Rose is God
Giving all when u feel lost
Sending hope when u are desperate
Oh, my rose inside…
Has been struggling for sprout
With passion, with desire
With his breath watering, his smile shining
Yet he was to be
a man with wise so someday he found
his wise and he claimed
Rose was bomb
Caused life into ruin
Work and future into ruin
Then, nothing left but cold wind
dry air, and silence dark
Then, my rose inside
Crying without sound
withering without a sign
Rose is God
Giving all when u feel lost
Sending hope when u are desperate
But, where is my rose again
Where is my rose again
Where is my silly boy
How Does It Feel To Fly
from a walk early morning
you enter the door
of your house
you see a glass vase
with a red rose
alone in the
living room
you go near and smell
the rosiness
of the rose
and gaze at it
as though it is the only
rose of your
home
you feel
a heart with wings
you fly
like a very light feather
on the wind
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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My Lovely Rose
I have a rose in the garden,
Unfolding red lovely petals,
With thorns surrounding it,
Could not touch and smell its fragrance.
I left the garden,
I left my lovely rose,
Far away yet so near,
Could not touch and smell its fragrance.
Time have passed,
Have seen again my rose,
Beautiful and sweetly scented at its full blossom,
Could not touch and smell its fragrance.
My rose is not mine anymore,
Yet I let my rose feel
Thy undoubting care and heart rejoicing,
Could glimpse again my lovely rose.
poem by Dong Agosto
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My Rose Of Sharon
I was living in an empty desert with no meaning to my life,
Then one day I found this beautiful Rose of Sharon, who is the living Christ.
And this lovely Rose forever blooms;
Its sweet fragrance has filled all my rooms.
It has no thorns; they've all been taken away,
I know this Rose is here to stay.
It brightens all my days, and is my dearest friend.
On this never changing Rose I can trust and depend.
This divine Rose of Sharon is so perfect and fair,
And it brings me peace, and love, and joy beyond compare.
Such a calm content feeling it sends,
Each heartache and pain it always mends.
I know in this life perfection I will never attain,
But since this Rose has left it's fragrance on me, I have never been the same,
And as I share this fragrance with those in need I see,
This beautiful Rose of Sharon will bloom in me.
poem by Evelyn Locke Irvin
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Elements, Death And Life
Love is like a rose
Rose is the symbol of love
Death is like a wind
wind is the symbol of fading away
Life is like a tree
It grows til it dies
Hate is like a fire
The fire grows intill it hurts somone
The symbol of life is a tree
Trre will burn of hate
The wind blow the hate away
Untill it comes backs
Death is not the opesit of life
Death comes in many natural ways
Like this poem
Like this message
Love is like a drug
You get addicted
You will get burned
At the same time it is good to keep
This love, this hate
The life, the death
Fire, earth, wind and water
Elements of creation
poem by Fabian Blomquist
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Blowing Of The wind
I felt the blowing of the wind
As it enters my soul from deep within
It entered my soul, and wouldn’t let go
It is the wind from where life begins.
The wind, she is known by all man,
And from whomever sits or walks or stands
For the wind is known, when she has blown
And when she is silent, the world is alone.
The wind, it is mans friend
As I journey through the world of men,
She strengthens my soul, and she wont let go
So upon her breath, I will forever hold.
The name of the wind, I will call her friend
As she enters my breath, from deep within
She surrounds my soul, and takes a deep hold
And I pray that never will she not let go.
She is the breeze, I do believe
From the steps I walk. and from the air I breathe,
When she touches my face my sorrows are erased,
For she is the wind, the mother of the breeze.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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