Sage
Silver sage herbs,
An Albino peacock among greens.
What a humbling sight!
poem by Deva De Silva
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Where's The Silver?
Colors, colors everywhere
Colors all around
Reds and purples and blues are there
But silver can't be found
I look around, and now I've found some yellows and some greens
I look until my eyes are sore, but silver can't be seen
I look unto the vibrant clouds, but there's no silver lining
Where is all the silver that the miners should be mining?
There are no silver bells a'ringing
The silver songbirds are not singing
The orange sun hangs in the air, but I can't find silver anywhere
I look for hours, look for days, look for silver anyplace
But there always seems to be another color in it's place
I've given up this useless search
There is no silver left to find
I dropp my head and start to cry
When out of my pocket falls a silver dime
poem by Tyler Mason
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A Peacock
a peacock meets a peahen
on a grassy garden
'what the hell' says the peahen
to the peacock
the peacock asks
'why the hell? '
and the peahen
snobs the peacock
and says
'yours is just a peasize! '
and the peahen leaves
the peacock for good
and they know
they cannot live
happily ever after
for sure
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Sage
I planted some sage along
with other herbs
and got small bushes
with blue-purple flowers
and greyish-green leaves.
We used the sage
in the cooking
and sometimes in salads
to flavour it,
but in my mother’s garden
at the front gate
a gigantic blooming bush of sage
greeted me
as if I was setting my foot
into Eden itself.
It was almost a metre high
and twice that breadth
and almost similar in shape
as the neighbour’s rondavel
across the street
and I rubbed some leaves
between my fingers
and it smelt like mint to me.
[Reference: rodavel = a type of round brick hut with a grass roof.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Rich & Poor; or Saint & Sinner
The poor man's sins are glaring;
In the face of ghostly warning
He is caught in the fact
Of an overt act---
Buying greens on a Sunday morning.
The rich man's sins are hidden
In the pomp of wealth and station;
And escape the sight
Of the children of light,
Who are wise in their generation.
The rich man has a kitchen,
And cooks to dress his dinner;
The poor who would roast
To the baker's must post,
And thus becomes a sinner.
The rich man has a cellar,
And a ready butler by him;
The poor man must steer
For his pint of beer
Where the saint can't choose but to spy him.
The rich man's painted windows
Hide the concerts of the quality;
The poor can but share
A crack'd fiddle in the air,
Which offends all sound morality.
The rich man is invisible
In the crowd of his gay society;
But the poor man's delight
Is a sore in the sight,
And a stench in the nose of piety.
poem by Thomas Love Peacock
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Flesh Burns In Mind Filament Flash Offerings
what morning breaks creaks worlds thoughts aquiver
what fire waking runs preys upon inertia desires river
storm fed from finger creek runoff mountain cascades
flesh burns in mind filament flash electric shock parades
art transfixed status artifacts votive hands made offerings
silver sight plies second sight night whispers sage delivers
poem by Terence George Craddock
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The Purple Sage
Purple sage is a beautiful thing,
Flowering in violet,
In winter or spring.
The leaves vary from silver to green,
It grows wild in Texas,
Of the wild it's the king.
Flowers are white, purple, or pink,
But only the purple,
Makes you mind stop and think.
Songs and stories, have come down through time,
Of the purple sage,
In it's inhospitable climes.
If your'e ever in Texas, come check it out,
Cause the purple sage,
Is what Texas is about.
11/15/10 Alton Texas
poem by Juan Olivarez
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Which Is So!
THEY CAME TO DRAG I BY THE BELTS!
HE SMOKES HERBS!
THEY SAID!
STILL STAYED I MEDITATING!
ARMED MEN CAME WITH GUNS!
TO CHASE AND HARRASS I
DO TELL ME!
IF INDEED I DID SMOKE HERBS!
WHICH IS MORE DANGEROUS TO MINE HEALTH AND THE PUBLIC'S HEALTH?
THE MEN AND THEIR MACHINE GUNS?
OR I WITH MY HERBS TO BE SMOKED BY I?
poem by Overlord Don Manuel Ihcakeyno
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Silver And Gold
Silver, silver and gold
Silver and gold, silver and gold
Ev'ryone wishes for silver and gold
How do you measure its worth?
Just by the pleasure it gives here on earth.
Silver and gold, silver and gold
Mean so much more when I see
Silver and gold decorations
On ev'ry Christmas tree.
Silver, silver and gold
Silver, silver and gold
Silver and gold
Silver and gold
Silver and gold
Wise men brought gifts to the mange I'm told
Mary was humble to see
Shepherds and kings there on bended knees
It's silver and gold, silver and gold
Feeling the world with their lives
Silver and gold how they shimmer on ev'ry Christmas night
On ev'ry Christmas night
Silver, silver and gold
song performed by by Vanessa Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Silver & Gold
Words and Music by Johnny Marks.
Silver, silver and gold
Silver and gold, silver and gold
Ev'ryone wishes for silver and gold
How do you measure its worth?
Just by the pleasure it gives here on earth.
Silver and gold, silver and gold
Mean so much more when I see
Silver and gold decorations
On ev'ry Christmas tree.
Silver, silver and gold
Silver, silver and gold
Silver and gold
Silver and gold
Silver and gold
Wise men brought gifts to the mange I'm told
Mary was humble to see
Shepherds and kings there on bended knees
It's silver and gold, silver and gold
Feeling the world with their lives
Silver and gold how they shimmer on ev'ry Christmas night
On ev'ry Christmas night
Silver, silver and gold
song performed by by Vanessa Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I enjoy Augusta. I enjoy its challenges. There's no other golf course like this anywhere. Its greens and its challenges on and around the greens are just super, super tough. So the greens are fun to play in sort of a morbid way.
quote by Ben Crenshaw
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Green
Green leaves of summer
Shades of green in moss and
Lichens sticking to stones and tree
Barks and some greens on twigs
And branches, some greenish
Patches growing on pavements
And even on walls and fences,
Some greens in mangoes and
Rainbows, some greens in shirts
And eyeshades of a woman,
But what I want to really say
Is the green in your eyes,
So green with envy, and now
Turning red to unreasonable anger,
How can you ever change?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Herbs
A serviceable thing
Is fennel, mint, or balm,
Kept in the thrifty calm
Of hollows, in the spring;
Or by old houses pent.
Dear is its ancient scent
To folk that love the days forgot,
Nor think that God is not.
Sage, lavender, and rue,
For body’s hurt and ill,
For fever and for chill;
Rosemary, strange with dew,
For sorrow and its smart,
For breaking of the heart.
Yet pain, dearth, tears, all come to dust,
As even the herbs must.
Life-everlasting, too,
Windless, poignant, and sere,
That blows in the old year,
Townsmen, for me and you.
Why fret for wafting airs?
Why haste to sell our wares?
Captains and clerks, this shall befall;
This is the end of all.
Oh, this the end indeed!
Oh, unforgotten things,
Gone out of all the springs;
The quest, the dream, the creed!
Gone out of all the lands,
And yet safe in God’s hands; —
For shall the dull herbs live again,
And not the sons of men?
poem by Lizette Woodworth Reese
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Neatness In Apparel
In your garb and outward clothing
A reservëd plainness use;
By their neatness more distinguished
Than the brightness of their hues.
All the colours in the rainbow
Serve to spread the peacock's train;
Half the lustre of his feathers
Would turn twenty coxcombs vain.
Yet the swan that swims in rivers,
Pleases the judicious sight;
Who, of brighter colours heedless,
Trusts alone to simple white.
Yet all other hues, comparëd
With his whiteness, show amiss;
And the peacock's coat of colours
Like a fool's coat looks by his.
poem by Charles Lamb
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Our Fathers of Old
Excellent herbs had our fathers of old--
Excellent herbs to ease their pain--
Alexanders and Marigold,
Eyebright, Orris, and Elecampane--
Basil, Rocket, Valerian, Rue,
( Almost singing themselves they run)
Vervain, Dittany, Call-me-to-you--
Cowslip, Melilot, Rose of the Sun.
Anything green that grew out of the mould
Was an excellent herb to our fathers of old.
Wonderful tales had our fathers of old,
Wonderful tales of the herbs and the stars-
The Sun was Lord of the Marigold,
Basil and Rocket belonged to Mars.
Pat as a sum in division it goes--
(Every herb had a planet bespoke)--
Who but Venus should govern the Rose?
Who but Jupiter own the Oak?
Simply and gravely the facts are told
In the wonderful books of our fathers of old.
Wonderful little, when all is said,
Wonderful little our fathers knew.
Half their remedies cured you dead--
Most of their teaching was quite untrue--
"Look at the stars when a patient is ill.
(Dirt has nothing to do with disease),
Bleed and blister as much as you will,
Bister and bleed him as oft as you please."
Whence enormous and manifold
Errors were made by our fathers of old.
Yet when the sickness was sore in the land,
And neither planets nor herbs assuaged,
They took their lives in their lancet-hand
And, oh, what a wonderful war they waged!
Yes, when the crosses were chalked on the door-
(Yes, when the terrible dead-cart rolled! )
Excellent courage our fathers bore--
None too learned, but nobly bold
Into the fight went our fathers of old.
If it be certain, as Galen says--
And sage Hippocrates holds as much--
"That those afflicted by doubts and dismays
Are mightily helped by a dead man's touch,"
Then, be good to us, stars above!
Then, be good to us, herbs below!
We are afflicted by what we can prove,
We are distracted by what we know.
So-ah, so!
Down from your heaven or up from your mould
Send us the hearts of our Fathers of old!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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People are crying up the rich and variegated plumage of the peacock, and he is himself blushing at the sight of his ugly feet.
The sage lectured brilliantly
The sage lectured brilliantly.
Before him, two images:
"Now this one is a devil,
And this one is me."
He turned away.
Then a cunning pupil
Changed the positions.
Turned the sage again:
"Now this one is a devil,
And this one is me."
The pupils sat, all grinning,
And rejoiced in the game.
But the sage was a sage.
poem by Stephen Crane
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Silver Wings
Silver wings shining in the sunlight
Roaring engines headed somewhere in flight
Theyre taking you away
Leaving me lonely
Silver wings slowly fading out of sight
Silver wings shining in the sunlight
Roaring engines headed somewhere in flight
Theyre taking you away
Leaving me lonely
Silver wings slowly fading out of sight
Dont leave me I cry
Dont take that airplane ride
But you lock me outta your mind
Left me standing here behind
Silver wings shining in the sunlight
Roaring engines headed somewhere in flight
Theyre taking you away
Leaving me lonely
Silver wings slowly fading out of sight
Slowly fading out of sight
Slowly fading out of sight
song performed by by Ryan Adams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Silver Wings
Silver wings shining in the sunlight
Roaring engines headed somewhere in flight
Theyre taking you away
Leaving me lonely
Silver wings slowly fading out of sight
Silver wings shining in the sunlight
Roaring engines headed somewhere in flight
Theyre taking you away
Leaving me lonely
Silver wings slowly fading out of sight
Dont leave me I cry
Dont take that airplane ride
But you lock me outta your mind
Left me standing here behind
Silver wings shining in the sunlight
Roaring engines headed somewhere in flight
Theyre taking you away
Leaving me lonely
Silver wings slowly fading out of sight
Slowly fading out of sight
Slowly fading out of sight
song performed by by Whiskeytown
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Imprints of You
To have known you even for an instant
To have seen you from afar
To have been graced by your presence
Your smile and your beauty
The sound of your voice reverberating
Soothing and refreshing
To have experienced your absence
And the ensuing darkness
And to have enjoyed the pleasure
Of your presence once again
My mornings suddenly rejuvenated
And you the joy and rejoicing of my life
There at my place of humbling
I depart now with joy having absorbed
The best and beautiful in you
I depart with imprints of you on my soul
Vestiges of your presence around me
And still the joy and rejoicing of my heart
As I look back to that place of humbling
poem by Oyekake Satty Joshua
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