The Countryside
Frowning in vexation,
attributable to the
demised plaudits,
He slithered the window
when the bus secured mobility,
longing for ecstasy
and to dart away
the sombre spirit.
In the countryside,
Gazing outside;
Unblinkingly he saw,
Cattle feeding themselves,
among their own intimate chums.
It retreated.
His angst dwindled,
Amidst the verdant lea,
straight vegetation
and the dale.
To invigorate,
He smelt fresh air;
Passing through
the open window.
The cloistered fields,
with cultivated wheat,
dancing resonantly with the wind,
offering the reapers
a vast capacity,
retreated too.
A brook materializes
from nowhere
without the head and the tail,
Unveiling a village,
parallel to it's verge.
It forces the sun
to prance
on it's sparkling surface.
A lady scrubbing clothes
settled on the dais,
her children relishing
in the shallow end.
It too retreated.
The wood advents
with the departing
trees.
A chilly wind prospers.
Feathered friends
taking wings high in the wood,
Songbirds singing their ballad,
emboldening him,
catalysing the appease
in his spirit.
To support the reviving optimism,
he started the music
by settling the ear-phones,
A silent soothing flute plays
calming him, he eased himself
and closed his eyes.
He dreamt-
the motion has ceased
and he was striding back on the highway,
to drown himself
in the retreated beauty.
Glance them and smell them anew,
not failing to notice
even the slightest colour and charm.
Again!
poem by Atul Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
The Last Soldier of War
It stood motionless in the deathly breeze
Tall and proud it stood
Amongst fields of sweeping silence
The colour of its many arms
Alone on an otherwise blank canvas
Then the thing appeared
A fiery cloud
Consuming it
Enveloping it into nothing
When the cloud retreated
It was no more
The last soldier of war
Its innocence
Like many
Forgotten
As it joined the colour less wasteland
Of a forgotten time
Though there is still hope in those souls alone
Happy in knowing
There will be no more
After the last soldier of war
poem by Annie Clarke
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Beside You
Little jimmys gone way out of the back streets
Out of the window, into the falling rain,
And hes right on time, right on time.
Thats why broken arrow waved his finger
Down the road so dark and narrow
In the evening just before the sunday sixbells chime
And way out on the highway
All the dogs are barkin way down below
And you wander away from your hillside retreated view
Went to wanderin nordhbridge way out on the railroad
Together all the tipping trucks will unload
All the scrapbooks built together stuck with glue
And Ill stand beside you, beside you
Oh child, to never wonder why
To never, never, never, never wonder why at all
To never, never, never, never wonder why
Its gotta be, it has to be
Across the crystal pavements
Way across the country where the hillside mountains glide
The dynamo of your smile caressed the
Barefoot virgin child
To wander past your window in the nighttime cross the floor
Crying as ecstasy surrounds you
Through the night air your proud time is open
Go well against the pointed idle breeze
Past the footlights of the brazen silence easy
In the night you cry and you want spirits to tell you
Everythings alright
Go ahead and do it one more time baby
Youre satisfied I guess, youre way up and the sky comes down
Kaleidoscope
Open and just hold the lantern in the doorway,
For the freedom of it.
And you take the night air through your nostrils and you breathe
In out, in out
And you breathe just like that, just like that
How does it get you when it gets you
When it gets ya
You may not know its got you until you turn around
And Ill point a finger at you, point a finger at you
You say which way, which way
Thats alright, weve gotten hip to it
Goin to do it right now.
Behind you
Beside you, beside you
Oh child to never wonder why
To never, never, never, never wonder why at all
Never never never never wonder why at all.
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Along the borders to Ethiopia and Somalia, anarchy reigns, the police and military have retreated quite some distance.
quote by Richard Leakey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Remember, the Arctic didn't have any ice. And the Northwest Passage was wide open. They were raising grapes in Scotland for God sakes, had a huge winery. Iceland was a farming community. As some of the glaciers retreated they found villages that were covered with ice.
To Ulla
Ulla, mine Ulla, tell me, may I hand thee
Reddest of strawberries in milk or wine?
Or from the pond a lively fish? Command me!
Or, from the well, a bowl of water fine?
Doors are blown open, the wind gets the blaming.
Perfumes exhale from flower and tree.
Clouds fleck the sky and the sun rises flaming,
As you see!
Isn't it heavenly--the fish market? So?
'Heavenly, oh heavenly!'
'See the stately trees there, standing row on row,--
Fresh, green leaves show!
And that pretty bay
Sparkling there?' 'Ah yes!'
'And, seen where sunbeams play,
The meadows' loveliness?
Are they not heavenly--those bright fields?--Confess!'--
Heavenly!
Heavenly!
Skal and good-noon, fair one in window leaning,
Hark how the city bells their peals prolong!
See how the dust the verdant turf is screening,
Where the calashes and the wagons throng!
Hand from the window--he's drowsy, the speaker,
In my saddle I nod, cousin mine--
Primo a crust, and secundo a beaker,
Hochlaender wine!
Isn't it heavenly--the fish-market? So?
'Heavenly, oh heavenly!'
'See the stately trees there, standing row on row,--
Fresh, green leaves show!
And that pretty bay
Sparkling there?' 'Ah yes!'
'And, seen where sunbeams play,
The meadows' loveliness?
Are they not heavenly--those bright fields?--Confess!'--
Heavenly!
Heavenly!
Look, Ulla dear! To the stable they're taking
Whinnying, prancing, my good steed, I see.
Still in his stall-door he lifts his head, making
Efforts to look up to thee: just to thee!
Nature itself into flames will be bursting;
Keep those bright eyes in control!
Klang! at your casement my heart, too, is thirsting.
Klang! Your Skal!
Isn't it heavenly--the fish-market? So?
'Heavenly, oh heavenly!'
'See the stately trees there, standing row on row,--
Fresh, green leaves show!
And that pretty bay
Sparkling there?' 'Ah yes!'
'And, seen where sunbeams play,
The meadows' loveliness?
Are they not heavenly--those bright fields?--Confess!'--
Heavenly!
Heavenly!
poem by Carl Michael Bellman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Written in March
The cock is crowing,
The stream is flowing,
The small birds twitter,
The lake doth glitter
The green field sleeps in the sun;
The oldest and youngest
Are at work with the strongest;
The cattle are grazing,
Their heads never raising;
There are forty feeding like one!
Like an army defeated
The snow hath retreated,
And now doth fare ill
On the top of the bare hill;
The plowboy is whooping- anon-anon:
There's joy in the mountains;
There's life in the fountains;
Small clouds are sailing,
Blue sky prevailing;
The rain is over and gone!
poem by William Wordsworth
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Untold Snowing
Saying good bye
The autumn disappears slowly
Obeying to the rule of nature
Even though the accidental fall of snow
For some birds and trees
Couldn't realize the moment
During the night that changed the day
Painting white color on trees and fields
Silent birds hastily find the unusual
While the children plays in joy
Throughout the day standing still
With beauty of snow rains gently
Opened the window to have a look
A mistral blow pervaded back
Closed the eyes to come to the past
Looking the change that happens fast
poem by Udaya R. Tennakoon
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None See The Beauty Of The Other
A thirsty oarsman
Took a gulp of sea water
And spit it on the ocean's face.
The ocean was irritated
And quizzed: what are you doing!
The oarsman quipped:
Why you are roaring
And keep on earth worthless
As being tasting salt
Not worth to drink
To quench a thirsty!
It was the rivers
Running to me in tears
Worried about their parting
With the ravines they loved
That made me bitter with salt!
The ocean quivered and spelt.
The oarsman found
A lot of fauna moving
Up to surface and moving
Down to the heart of ocean.
He retreated with no word
In reply to challenge ocean!
At night, the stars
Talked to the ocean
Of their beauty of shining eyes,
They told the ocean
That they look bright
Of their celestial charisma
While looking on the ocean
The ocean with Moorish eyes
That wide open in surprise
Tell the stars that she
Never had seen the beauty
Of the stars that look down
But her beauty alone
In the deep eyes of the stars!
poem by Vadakkumpurath Ramesan
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Your Love Is The Wind
YOUR LOVE IS THE WIND
Your love
is the wind
that passes
through trees
sets them murmuring
to themselves
the secrets of my heart
or the wind
in wheat
undulating across
fields
a golden sea
as if alive
moved
(moving me)
your love
the wind
that takes
my heart
tosses it
in the air
& laughs
laughs
as it scampers
here & there
at your
slightest whim
until
like a leaf
it lies
settled
quiet & still
becalmed
on your palm
overcome
with tenderness.
poem by Dónall Dempsey
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Shiver
As the sun set in the west
the holes became more evident
as I pulled on my woolly vest
and the cold air rushed through
to chill my boobs.
I shivered in the dying sunlight
as I rooted around for
my thread bare jacket.
All the time the wind
howled with a chuckle
over the predicament I was in.
I retreated to the safety
of my straw filled bed
that collapsed upon the floor
as I rested down my head.
Then the roof caved in
and the stars looked down
with the moon and smiled
at this fool that laid there
shivering with his boobs turning blue.
24 September 2010
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In The Shade Of The Green Wood
In the shade of the green wood
The holly does grow,
While in soft rays of sunlight
The wild roses glow,
And I smell their sweet perfume
That gently floats by,
Past trees strong and mighty
That reach to the sky,
The pathway of gold autumn
Leaves still remain,
As I walk through the green wood again.
In the shade of the green wood
This bright sunny morn,
That's so cool in the shadows
A new day is born,
All the birds in the treetops
Are singing for me,
Sweet songs of the summer
Which fill me with glee,
And know from its beauty
I never shall part,
For the green wood does live in my heart.
In the shade of the green wood
A soft gentle breeze,
Now caresses the branches
And whispers through trees,
A sound reassuring
Shall carry me to,
All the scenes that exist
In each marvellous view,
It's here that my spirit
Shall always now stay,
And the green wood is guiding my way.
poem by Andrew Blakemore
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The Gods Are Dead
The gods are dead? Perhaps they are! Who knows?
Living at least in Lempriere undeleted,
The wise, the fair, the awful, the jocose,
Are one and all. I like to think, retreated
In some still land of lilacs and the rose.
Once high they sat, and high o’er earthly shows
With sacrificial dance and song were greeted.
Once… long ago. But now, the story goes,
The gods are dead.
It must be true. The world, a world of prose,
Full-crammed with facts, in science swathed and sheeted,
Nods in a stertorous after-dinner doze!
Plangent and sad, in every wind that blows
Who will may hear the sorry words repeated: –
‘The Gods are Dead!’
poem by William Ernest Henley
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Catching Breaths Like Words
the difference between
you and me
is not the sameness of
our miseries
the difference is that you
are an open window
that has closed again
but i am a window that i
broke and never close
because there is no more reason
to keep me closed i am
sinfully opening to the
changes of the clouds &
the course-less drifting of the wind
i do not pay attention
to direction now
except perhaps on the basics
of having to feed my day to
day existence
when you arrive here
i am no longer myself
and then you leave
saying i am the useless wind
of the house and i deserve
no room at all
early in the morning
before i become myself again
words rain in my eyes
like tears
salt to my tongue and
biting
i want to put them in a
bowl
treat them like salad
days
but i do not eat words
neither do you
so i let them pour
on the vacancies of the
floor and they drip on
the earth and
gone & i said i have no
time for thoughts
thoughts do not help me
find my arms
i rush to go and be myself
again
on the wings that you
detest
above everything else
i resume
catching breaths
like words
feeding myself like
paper
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Look Out My Window
Look out my window
See what I see
Watching the birds fly
Believing in me,
As here comes my music
Then here comes my soul
Just like the wind is
And towards me she will blow,
For I hear the music
That's playing in my mind
And I hear the voices
Singing in rhyme
For they will sing to me
While watching the trees
Listen my music
Please listen to me.
Outside my window
I again hear your song
You sing what I wrote you
As I wrote you no wrong,
As you are the beauty
Beauty, in the air
You are my music
You’ve always been there.
Outside my window
And outside my life
That is where my music is
Outside our lives.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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Juanita / Kiteless / To Dream Of Love
Your rails. youre thin.
Your thin paper wings.
Your thin paper wings.
In the wind. dangling.
Your sun. fly high.
Your window shattering.
Your rails. youre thin.
Your thin paper wings.
Sugar box. sugar boy.
Riding in. riding in.
Sugar box. sugar boy.
Handheld candle. sugar boy.
Your rails. youre thin.
Your thin paper wings.
Your thin paper wings.
In the wind. dangling.
Your sun. fly high.
Your window shattered in the wind.
Your coca cola sign rattling.
Resonator.
Homeless trees. gathering.
Outside your window bootleg babies call
To you and lie among the mosquitoes.
That summers fever coming.
Cats are gathering outside your window.
Homeless trees. bootleg babies calling
To you. lie among. lie among the mosquitoes.
Your rails. youre thin.
Your thin paper wings.
Get up in your sun. fly high.
Dangling. dangling.
Your window shattered in the wind.
The sun on your coca cola sign.
Your rails. your thin
Paper wings. paper wings.
Resonator ...
There is a sound on the other side of this wall.
A bird is singing on the other side of this glass.
Footsteps. concealed.
Silence is preserving a voice.
Walking in the wind at the waters edge
Comes close to covering my rubber feet.
Listening to the barbed wire hanging.
There is a sound on the other side of this wall.
A bird is singing on the other side of this glass.
Footsteps. concealed.
Silence is preserving a voice.
Silver chain. thrown away. broken wing.
song performed by by Underworld
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Music
The neighbour sits in his window and plays the flute.
From my bed I can hear him,
And the round notes flutter and tap about the room,
And hit against each other,
Blurring to unexpected chords.
It is very beautiful,
With the little flute-notes all about me,
In the darkness.
In the daytime,
The neighbour eats bread and onions with one hand
And copies music with the other.
He is fat and has a bald head,
So I do not look at him,
But run quickly past his window.
There is always the sky to look at,
Or the water in the well!
But when night comes and he plays his flute,
I think of him as a young man,
With gold seals hanging from his watch,
And a blue coat with silver buttons.
As I lie in my bed
The flute-notes push against my ears and lips,
And I go to sleep, dreaming.
poem by Amy Lowell
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Juanita
Your rails
Your thin
Your thin paper wings
Your thin paper wings
In the winddangling
Your sun
Fly high
Your window shattering
Your rails
Your thin
Your thin paper wings
Sugar boy
Sugar boy
Riding in
Riding in
Sugar box
Sugar boy
Handheld candle sugar boy
Your rails
Your thin
Your thin paper wings
Your thin paper wings
In the wind dangling
Your sun fly high
Your window shattered in the wind
Your coca cola sign
Rattling
Rattling
Resonator [x8]
Homeless trees gathering
Outside your window bootleg babies call to you and lie among the mosquitoes
That summers fever coming
Cats are gathering outside your window
Homeless trees
Bootleg babies calling to you
Lie among lie among the mosquitoes
Your rails
Your thin
Your thin paper wings
Get up in your sun fly high
Dangling dangling
Your window shattered in the wind
The sun on your coca cola sign
Your rails
Your thin
Paper wings
Paper wings
Resonator, [x16]
Homeless trees gathering
Outside your window bootleg babies call to you and lie among the mosquitoes
That summers fever coming
Cats are gathering outside your window
Homeless trees
Bootleg babies calling to you
Lie among lie among the mosquitoes
Your rails
Your thin
Your thin paper wings
Get up in your sun fly high
Dangling dangling
Your window shattered in the wind
The sun on your coca cola sign
Your rails
Your thin
Paper wings
Paper wings
There is a sound on the other side of this wall
A bird is singing on the other side of this glass
Footsteps
Concealed
Silence is preserving a voice
Walking in the wind at the waters edge
Comes close to covering my rubber feet
Listening to the barbed wire hanging
There is a sound on the other side of this wall
A bird is singing on the other side of this glass
Footsteps
Concealed
Silence is preserving a voice
Silver chain
Thrown away
Broken wing
song performed by by Underworld
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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From this High Window
From this high window
the invisible wind
moves silent trees:
motion without sound,
dance without song.
Behind painted walls
and heavy curtains,
I cannot not hear
the tumult,
but opening the heavy door,
at last I hear the trees sing,
stirred to passion
by unseen hands
waving branches
swept up
by the compelling wind,
and drawn outside,
exposed and complete,
finally I face the clear maelstrom,
my own hair flying free,
and gaze at the trees,
wild men
dancing as they chant
savage hymns
to their howling god.
poem by Steven Federle
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The problem is that during the 1980s, a decade of heavy poaching, the elephants retreated to safer areas. And now people have moved into the corridors once used by the elephants.
quote by Richard Leakey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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South-Westerly-2
What ecstasy you've got into
Tumbling home, me and all you do
Frisky sometimes in perfect rhyme
Frowning sometimes in hassling mime
Breeziest breeze but not a gale
Brisk hurling litters all in bale
See, the surging sea..you're roaring
Upping, upping tides overlapping
See, the flying birds..you're pushing
Downing down in your tilting
See, the tottering trees..you're beating
Fluttering leaves in your strewing
See, the slamming doors..you're hitting
Drying clothes far in your tumbling
See, the swirling dust..you're rolling
Up and down all around you're spraying
What ecstasy you've got into
Dusting my eyes you're into
O'naughty Wind, South West Wind
I would say but at the end
Summer solace you are my friend
Soothing mercy o' you abound
O'Monsoon wind, South West Wind
So good, so good..yet dear friend
How would I say still at the end
'Hats off to you' o' naughty wind
poem by Indira Renganathan
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