Sweet Hummings of the Sea
The heart of the sea hums
The love song that I never heard off.
I want to fill the silent nooks of my mountain
With these hummings of the sea.
Every dusk I fly down to the shores
To collect these sweet hums of the sea.
The whole night through
I fly back to my mountains
This flight with the hums of the sea in my heart
Gives me tremendous joy.
poem by Dr. Antony Theodore
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The Dancing Socrates
I roast in the sun, old wretch...
I lie, and yawn, I stretch.
Old am I, but full of pep:
When I take a slug from the cup
I sing.
My ancient bones bask in the sun's glow,
And my curly, wise, grey head.
In that wise head, like woods in spring
Hums and hums a wiser wine.
Eternal thoughts flow and flow,
Like time.
poem by Julian Tuwim
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My Lagan Love
(irish folk song sang by dusty on her tv show in 1967)
Where lagan stream sings lullaby
There grows a young man fair
The twilight gleam is in his eye
The night is on his hair
And like a lovesick lenan he
He hath my heart in thrall
No life I owe, no liberty
His love is lord of all
And often when the beetles horn
Hath lulled the eve to sleep
I steal unto his shieling lorn
And thro the dooring peep
There on the crickets singing stone
He spears the bird in fire
And hums in sad, sweet undertone
The song of his desire
song performed by by Dusty Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Boom-boom, Lonely-hearts are in Gloom Hums a Red Flamingo
Eek! On the moonless sky, grey clouds are ashen and sober;
Trees are swaying helter-skelter with leaves tousled and sere
As west wind drives the minute nature in a conspirative plot,
voodooed by an autumn night, a lonesome pine in an orphic thought.
Jibber, jabber joo! Wig, wiggly woo in lonely flu - boo hoo!
Boom-boom, Lonely-hearts are in gloom hums a red flamingo.
Gee! In a deserted and isolated lonesome valley, I met my ally;
while Ploughing a lonely furrow, I caught him - a nervous Nelly;
His soul is a tattered cloud and his heart is a battered sea
As tender sapling in him is not watered, oh, I met him in me.
Jibber, jabber joo! Wig, wiggly woo in lonely flu - boo hoo!
Boom-boom, Lonely-hearts are in gloom hums a red flamingo.
hardy-har-har! My whole world went black with air looked black,
Sun looked black; I laid in bed and stared at room walls dark,
Outside I still always appear bright with a mask, Ooh-la-la
Hoodooed by single crow I remain in a pitch dark inside, blah!
Jibber, jabber joo! Wig, wiggly woo in lonely flu - boo hoo!
Boom-boom, Lonely-hearts are in gloom hums a red flamingo.
Hoot-hoot! It's loneliness that makes the brassiest noise
Without any voice, it tomahawks lonely-hearts, oh dear boys;
Before it bites, even rattlesnake warns you in a chiller-thriller;
Alas! Without any sound Lonely Cyclops burns you - a whale killer.
Jibber, jabber joo! Wig, wiggly woo in lonely flu - boo hoo!
Boom-boom, Lonely-hearts are in gloom hums a red flamingo
poem by Harindhar Reddy
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Oh! Doubt Me Not
Oh! doubt me not -- the season
Is o'er when Folly made me rove,
And now the vestal, Reason,
Shall watch the fire awaked by Love.
Although this heart was early blown,
And fairest hands disturb'd the tree,
They only shook some blossoms down --
Its fruit has all been kept for thee.
Then doubt me not -- the season
Is o'er when Folly made me rove,
And now the vestal, Reason,
Shall watch the fire awaked by Love.
And though my lute no longer
May sing of Passion's ardent spell,
Yet, trust me, all the stronger
I feel the bliss I do not tell.
The bee through many a garden roves,
And hums his lay of courtship o'er,
But when he finds the flower he loves,
He settles there, and hums no more.
Then doubt me not -- the season
Is o'er when Folly kept me free,
And now the vestal, Reason,
Shall guard the flame awaked by thee.
poem by Thomas Moore
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The Sea As An Erotic Form
you see the waves as tongues not for talking because the sea
for centuries have been deprived of words
it hums and suffuses you with its rhythm like it is a heart beating
the heart of a woman deprived of her own love stories
you listen and and then the sea with its vast patience
molded by a hundred years of storms and tsunamis
shall listen to you, and then you love it and then you bathe
with its salt and silence
you go deeper trying to find its heart
there is none.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Happy Song
I have a cousin named Emily,
Whose dark hair is so long
And her big brown eyes are happy,
Singing a happy song.
Yes, a happy song,
Which isn't sang with words,
They're hums and tunes and melodies
Of thousands of singing birds.
The happy song can not be stopped,
Even when it hurts,
The happy song can not be stopped,
'Cuz that's when it exerts.
The happy song can never be lost,
Nothing can tear it apart,
There's only one place you can keep it,
That place is in your heart.
poem by Linda Claire
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zazen...
the air conditioner
hums
haiku by Chenou Liu
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I Remember The Mimicking Bird
it is perching on a branch of a tree in front of our house
facing me
this hottest day of the year
when all the leaves are falling
like an inevitable misfortune
i open the window and it does not fly away
i whistle
it whistles too
i sing a song it sings the same song as mine
i hum, it hums too
it is mocking me
but i like it that way
i don't consider it my enemy
not even a flattery
perhaps a compliment
to my dissent.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Temperament
Some people are easy going
and some are so uptight.
Both types are completely different
just like day and night.
It's fun to be around the ones
that take life as it comes.
They're comfortable to be with.
They're like a tune that hums
a song of sweet contentment.
They're at peace in every way,
never flying off the handle
at something you might say.
Let's think about the others
and try to understand
why they're so excitable
and get so out of hand.
They're like a ticking time bomb
waiting to explode.
They make you feel so nervous.
It's time to hit the road.
Give them time to cool right down
and quiet down a bit.
Slowly inch yourself back in.
Let their temper quit.
Sometimes it makes me wonder
if anyone can change
the way their personality
makes them act so strange?
They say it takes all kinds
to make the world go 'round.
I try my best to get along.
It's best for me, I've found.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Elegy To A Bee
I found a bee upon the grass
Who faced his final hour
And cupped him gently in my hand
Then set him on a flower.
A sweet white rose that nestle him
In petals, cotton soft,
Whose fragrance, as he breathed is last,
Bore his soul aloft.
And though his tiny body lies
Within the roses' breast,
His spirit shines, his song still hums
In every flower he kissed.
poem by Karen M. Stakem
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Faith' is a fine invention
faith is Nile's flood
setting ground for grace
faith - it flies in and out
a mother bird divides feed
the blessed a bushel
the others little by little
the almighty plays a game of chess -
- listens to spiritual music -
- and hums his heavenly nursery rhyme
that calms terrified earthly souls -
faith is Nile's flood that springs silent cheers from heart to heart
inspired by
'Faith' is a fine invention
When Gentlemen can see—
But Microscopes are prudent
In an Emergency.
Emily Dickinson
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Chirping Birds
the morning here
is always the sound of chirping birds
because the trees
have been their homes at night
when the sun rises
the birds fly away again
and when the sun fades
they come back
to their nests
and home
the night hums the song of silence
bird's eyes closing again
to the golden sheen
of the bright moon
the white owl flaps its wings
on a nocturnal adventure
in harmony with the bats
friends of the night
some shadows lurk in the night
in the pursuit of happiness
some souls are restless
on dreams unfulfilled
some wake up dwindling at dawn
opening the fridge for a glass of cold water
switches on the computer
and begin again
anew to another poem
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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While the distant drums
beat time with a fleet farewell,
an aged drone hums.
haiku by Jonathan Robin (13 January 1993)
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The hair of a bow
The hair of a bow
Vibrate the head
And frog screw hums
And music said
I am strong
without words.
poem by David E. Patton
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Soulful Beats
Can I write a song with words that bring the beat to life with rhythm that feels alive deep into the core of your soul? The meaning hidden and buried for another intellect to feel the magic with the cords of there heart like my lover that smiles at me as the rain dances around her, above her, with her. She is my reason for this verse, this chorus, this repeat of a string of melodies that always see the light in her. She does not belong here in this place of confusion and misdirection of the minds.
She belongs in the arms of nature, smiling at the sky and watching all the beautiful universe pass her by. She is not a copy of perfection, yet she is not perfect, but seems to belong to an imperfect person. I cannot write a song without her eyes of knowledge that has read me through the years to make me a book of holiness to her. The music is between us and plays as we play. It is our love song, wedding song, anniversary song, birth song, happy ever after song and a funeral song. She hums the tune when she loves me and it our song that sings together that we are happy.
poem by Melvyn Mohan
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Shipwreck Of A Heart
it's bittersweet when we fit together
my puzzle piece and i
he smiles assuringly
hums me sweet sweet melodies
and says he's free now
i believe i want to be free too
fly together, let's
my mockingbird and i
but winged creatures and puzzle pieces aren't
quite compatible
and you made it
astonishingly clear
you're a bird-
i'm a puzzle
and we just
don't seem to
fit
together ever
poem by Alexzia Ferdinand
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The Sting of Death
`Is Sin, then, fair?'
Nay, love, come now,
Put back the hair
From his sunny brow;
See, here, blood-red
Across his head
A brand is set,
The word -- `Regret.'
`Is Sin so fleet
That while he stays,
Our hands and feet
May go his ways?'
Nay, love, his breath
Clings round like death,
He slakes desire
With liquid fire.
`Is Sin Death's sting?'
Ay, sure he is,
His golden wing
Darkens man's bliss;
And when Death comes,
Sin sits and hums
A chaunt of fears
Into man's ears.
`How slayeth Sin?'
First, God is hid,
And the heart within
By its own self chid;
Then the maddened brain
Is scourged by pain
To sin as before
And more and more,
For evermore.
poem by Frederick George Scott
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In Horto Rev. J. Still,
APUD KNOYLE, VILLAM AMOENISSIMAM.
Stranger! a while beneath this aged tree
Rest thee, the hills beyond, and flowery meads,
Surveying; and if Nature's charms may wake
A sweet and silent transport at thine heart,
In spring-time, whilst the bee hums heedless nigh,
Rejoice! for thee the verdant spot is dressed,
Circled with laurels green, and sprinkled o'er
With many a budding rose: the shrubs all ring
To the birds' warblings, and by fits the air
Whispers amid the foliage o'er thine head!
Rejoice, and oh! if life's sweet spring be thine,
So gather its brief rose-buds, and deceive
The cares and crosses of humanity.
poem by William Lisle Bowles
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Winter's distant drums
greet time with fleet beat farewell
as aged drone hums
haiku by Jonathan Robin (25 June 2008)
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Within Pink Marble Walls
Within pink marble walls...
beneath the stars
to departed tenant
Godindwelt
the conch hums omkar
poem by Saiom Shriver
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