The Elegy To Autumn
Silence will not be the form of you in me
at the edge of fate, we scream
the last sigh of our exiatence.
The veins of trees are visible
devoid of leaves, as if free of all pretexts.
No where to go, blissfully it stands
as the last penance of our outcry.
poem by Subodh Pandey
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Related quotes
No Tree Can Stand Tall Without Roots Spread!
Every seed sends roots first,
Finding for soil and ground
where it can stand firm and tall,
stand firm and tall if roots go
deep,
Spread wide to find The sap! single cell that carry life,
Give life to cells and tissues,
Shoot, barks, branches and
leaves,
feed the leaves exposing leaves
to light, Visible tree stands on exposed
roots, not roots visible, Man made boundaries, fence and
compound,
Can't prevent or limit roots or
branches,
Sometimes absorbing soil here,
Branch will extent to neighbouring house,
How one can limit the nature,
or confine growing tree to
narrow circle drawn by man?
So is every life on Earth!
Mankind is like forest of different trees,
Yet all roots of autotrophic trees
deep in the soil,
Only parasitic have those roots,
pierce other tree's heart! Dive deep into yourself,
O man! Can you survive without
Your roots?
know how you are here,
Is it the mortal parent brought
you here, Or your fate,
Only be grateful to their love and
care forever!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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Echoes of silence
A silent scream
A bad dream..
nightmare
Wake me up
Some one dare
Spare me.. spare!
Everytime i remember
that touch that smell
The day i experienced hell
my cross to bear
All my life
My death knell
My tortured sigh
someone hear in silence
my helplessness
As i laid that night
Silence echoes my fight
my plight!
Silence echoes
Scot free, he walks away
echoes till this day
Silence echoes
My lost innocence
At nights in dreams..
Night, witness to my pain
Driving me insane
within my heart...
Silence echoes,
My silent scream
my broken dreams..
Silence echoes....
poem by Meena Iyer
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Your Silence Sings
"Silence can carry many different messages; it can be a powerful form of communication." Thomas Merton
Your silence sings in
emerald leaves glistening
through arching blue skies.
Apple trees groaning
anointing the sacred ground
with seeds of silence.
Close by rushes a
train; howling wind brushes my
face with your silence.
poem by Steven Federle
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Your Closest Friends Are Dead
Look, fate is a finicky clamor.
Fate is a remote island,
Where nobody can reach
For the road to fate,
Is as jagged as the treachery
Of a thief as thick as blood.
-
Look, serendipity is dead.
It does not muse over your oceans,
It does not fly within your air spaces,
It does not burst in the eve of new year,
Serendipity calcified, serendipity is perverse,
It does not light up aglow in each verse,
Serendipity is your God, my God,
His God, Her God, that does not show itself.
(Sorry for the blasphemy.)
-
Look, the silence exists
Between the persnickety fate
And dead serendipity,
Silence, my only friend,
The cold hands of danger,
The pretense of forever,
As if bound by one fate alone,
That we never find one, only ourselves,
But then, the strongest men
Are the most alone,
Starved from the skin, hollowed bones
Silence, a scream as thin as ice,
Deafening, none would suffice.
poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr
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But When The Flames Of Fires Touch Your Eyes
The leaves are gone; the world’s gone to sleep
The grass is brown the earth is dark and bare
And if you look beyond that silent peak
Silence is there
Then in the morning when the world’s young
When all the children still sigh in their sleep
Before the fog is lifted from the ground
Silence creeps
But when the flames of fires touch your eyes
When everything you’ve loved leaves you alone
When even moons refuse to wax and wane
Silence moans
So I will walk upon this sidewalk loud
And sing old songs that have no melody
In hopes that with this lonely clamoring
Silence leaves
poem by Ben Paynter
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0018 Man Raking Leaves (re Jim Morrison lyric)
The sound of wooden rake scratching concrete.
walk nearer - rustle of dry leaves.
This, the beginning of a Japanese haiku
or maybe a Japanese film -
dry sound first, then rake, then leaves, then man -
that evokes autumn
too near the heart
to need a title
the sound stops. silence. man leans on rake.
then match strikes, there's almost yes an echo
from the dry leaves not yet fallen from the trees
in the forest all around.
then the first tickle in the nostrils
of burning leaves which
the two-year old scrunching through the trees
hand in hand with older sister
will remember all his life
like the silence between
two lines of a haiku or
the silence of the moment when the seasons turn.
and who can say
what the golden-orange-yellow-brown trees
slowly stripping in a rustle as of silken nightgown
to the tune of, more a whisper than a breeze -
what the trees feel
as the incense of their, their, burning leaves
steals like a last caress
for each such faithful
lover?
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Black is the Day Realm Beyond Reason,
Black is the day realm beyond reason,
As in and out of the season we remain steady at the helm.
Always on the verge of pushing over the edge our minds.
Upon the flip side are we to find no place to hide our faith
Before they come gunning missionaries, preaching for fun.
Hoisting grim statuettes of sacrifice upon the host.
As the ghost of a mushroom floods the world in tears.
As we reside within fear, helpless, deranged.
Black for the silence of the form devoid of life.
poem by David Lacey
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84
my silence shall be
i find this in the forest of trees
long trees, shady, such that what you can see
are only shadows of leaves
and what you hear is only the sound of the wind
choked between tight walls,
this is my silence,
moist, and soft, between a growth of wild
ferns
rotten leaves heaps and heaps of
rotten leaves
layer after layer of rotten leaves
thick and pushed still to the roots
smashed to the ground
some seeds from the oaks
or maybe from the flowers of the orchids
or some sweet fruits and red berries fall
in there
and they begin to grow
rich as humus is this soil down
the darkness of this forest,
this is my silence
deep inside me
moist, rotten, but soon
lots shall grow
seeds turning into sprouts
to trees again
perhaps taller than ever
some fruits so sweet and colored and shiny
some flowers scented and so lovely,
this my silence
shall be, i am keeping it for years
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Kindness is the unmatching penance
'O' heart!
Do penance! Do penance!
If you do penance, you can achieve
Whatever you like, in this universe;
Nothing is equal and better than kindness,
Kindness is the unmatchable penance,
People who are kind to everybody
Live for ever gladly and happily'
poem by V.K. Kanniappan
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Winter With a Question
The aging trees will creak and groan
To find themselves ringed by frost in sleep
And snow by the wind already blown
Cast upon snow already deep.
The cold is echoed only by silence all,
And the leaves of Autumn entombed in white
At the place where leaves fall
And passing time, vanish from sight.
Who is it that judges these—
Sends leaves beneath the snow
And trees to shiver alongside trees? —
And where do they go?
poem by Ronny Self
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Silence
Silence builds within these walls.
Across my brain a dark spectre crawls.
I feel the maddness creeping in.
Or was it long ago it did begin?
I can not tell,
because I reside within my shell.
Where only silence calms infernal hell.
Internal silence to keep from breaking.
I've hurt enough.
I take refuge,
from all the pain I dealt to you.
A dark shadow I cast upon your life.
Now silence strikes,
and blindness hides the love we shared.
Myself I now despise.
Silence surrounds pumping in my head,
in my veins a pounding beat that drains.
I'll sit here now in contemplation and meditation.
Pondering mistakes I've made small and great.
The spider runs across my brain,
as silence fills with loathsome shame.
Tears run from my eyes as acid rain.
I'll wrap myself up in deep refrain.
Until I make my penance and lift the grey.
poem by Michael McParland
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Fate Stay With Me
What did you think Id be doing now
While you left me, I was thinking aloud
Would there be no end to my sorrow
Will I make it through tomorrow
Chorus:
Let the autumn leaves fall
The chilly raindrops freeze
The white snow melts
Ill just sail on those seas
Fate, fate, fate stay with me
I wanna be, wanna be, wanna be free
Fate, fate, fate stay with me
I wanna be, wanna be, wanna be free
That wouldnt be any fun
Id rather be lying on the sun
Together alone with you
Beneath the sky of blue
Repeat chorus
Tell me! tell me!
Will my light be blown out crying
Baby! baby!
I feel as though Im dying
Fate, fate, fate
Repeat chorus into fade
song performed by by Alanis Morissette
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Silence Shall Be
i find this in the forest of trees
long trees, shady, such that what you can see
are only shadows of leaves
and what you hear is only the sound of the wind
choked between tight walls,
this is my silence,
moist, and soft, between a growth of wild
ferns
rotten leaves heaps and heaps of
rotten leaves
layer after layer of rotten leaves
thick and pushed still to the roots
smashed to the ground
some seeds from the oaks
or maybe from the flowers of the orchids
or some sweet fruits and red berries fall
in there
and they begin to grow
rich as humus is this soil down
the darkness of this forest,
this is my silence
deep inside me
moist, rotten, but soon
lots shall grow
seeds turning into sprouts
to trees again
perhaps taller than ever
some fruits so sweet and colored and shiny
some flowers scented and so lovely,
this my silence
shall be, i am keeping it for years
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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My Castle In A Tree
As the sweet rain smears the watercolor world
And the beams of sunshine are stirred into it
As the trees ripple and splash around me
And my knees melt into the ground
The enormous trunk looms before me
My castle in a tree
Roots run in muscular veins down the mammoth redwood
They are the perfect staircase for me to ascend
As my swollen tears float off to space
The castle doors open to greet me
And my face is bathed in lamplight from within
My castle in a tree
The walls breathe a sigh of welcome
Flames leap onto every white wax candle
I take off my sandals so that my ancient feet
Warm the polished wooden floor
The world, it shivers before me in
My castle in a tree
The leaves, they let the sunlight in
But guard me from the things that lurk
Just beyond the edge of the earth
So that he not a one can see me
And there is not a thing at all to remember in
My castle in a tree
At once it evaporates into the golden sky
My hands and legs enflame before me
All the world is drowned in blackness and
Leaves not a single silver bubble
This is the death, the murder of
My castle in a tree
poem by Christopher R. Kennedy
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At The Edge Of The Edge Of The Edge
AT THE EDGE OF THE EDGE OF THE EDGE
At the edge of the edge of the edge
There is another invisible edge
And this too has an edge and another edge
Edges unending
Beyond our comprehension
Waiting for us to fall down and down-
On the edge of the edge of the edge
I write on
Has the great descent already begun
And am I in the midst of it
As I pretend to go on?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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0028 Aw....bless...
I always liked the idea
of becoming a wise old man
but I may be too old for that
now
however
there are moments when
like today
the sun's shining on the trees
their leaves glinting in the slight breeze
and time seems to be unaware of itself and
and I feel good about myself too
in the same blissfully thoughtless way
that's even better
like a jar of golden promise
that doesn't need a label
poem by Michael Shepherd
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The Falling Leaves
it is not the leaves you care about
but the falling
it is not that the trees have become leafless ribs
or that the thorns and scabs have become so visible
it is not
but the falling you want to know
how does falling fall how does this falling feel
the past that pains you
the present that you do not give space
the future that you refuse to dream
i see you falling falling and falling like the leaves
that you are seeing this summer afternoon
for whom you love
they leave like birds flying away from the lonely tunnel
where you have long resided
i see you hugging the fallen leaves
feeling what falling means
treasuring the failures unnecessarily
tonight i see no stars like you seeing none in the skies
black night silent night dead night
i got this last stick of this match
i light this cigarrette i sigh i live some more
i sleep i dream i have this candle still
that tomorrow i may begin to light
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Shade
In the woods…
The shade
comes to listen
In the shade…
Veined leaves
and silver firs glisten
In the veins…
There courses
voices of the trees
In the trees…
The shade listens
then grieves
The shade comes…
The shade listens…
Then leaves…
poem by David Whalen
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Twigs In Black Sky In White
trees without leaves
trees which are all but twigs
reaching for the summer
sun
like Egyptians
in worship
a monochrome of
black veins
and capillaries against
the gray background of
dying light
off-white on such
a bleak day.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A lane in England
In autumn I walked in England
in a lane full of trees
where leaves lay auburn
on a road wet from rain.
Barren, stripped oak trees
were between other green ones
and it was as if I was going
right through a tunnel
with here and there trees
of which the leaves were more yellow.
In the distance the road bended to the right
where a bush fence
cut neatly square
and telephone poles
ran along the edge of the road
and the green moss banks
were covered with auburn leaves
at places
and on the other side
of the road
a shrub stretched out green and long
like a sausage
that was lying next to the road
and I would love
to have a lane like that
next to my driveway.
poem by Gert Strydom
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