Sun rise to the east
Hazy fog drapes the mountain
Cicadas cry shrill
haiku by Desiree C. D. (29 January 2010)
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Walking From Xiamen And Looking At The Blue Sea
East face Jieshi mountain
And gaze blue sea
Water how dancing gently
Mountain island towering
Trees grow thick
Hundred grasses lush
Autumn wind soughs
Big waves rise up
Sun moon their journey
As if from this in
Milky way splendid
As if from this in
Very lucky very lucky oh
Song sing wish
East of Jieshi mountain, I gaze at the blue sea.
The water dances so gently, the mountain island towers.
Trees here grow thick, a hundred grasses are lush.
The autumn wind soughs, great waves rise up.
The path of the sun and moon, seems to come from within.
The splendid Milky Way, seems to come from inside.
Oh, I am so lucky, to be singing my song!
poem by Cao Cao
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Sexiness should not be overt. Something shapeless that drapes across your hip, hangs off the shoulder; something that cowls in the front, drapes low in the back, that's sexy.
quote by Rachel Zoe
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Locked
Locked is my heart.
Now no one
Can get in.
I'm just a setting sun.
I give up,
Tell me,
Where's the gun.
Locked are my arms
Around a ghost
That's the most
I can hope for now.
As for love
That sacred cow.
All us losers
Can just bow.
Locked are my eyes
Onto hazy blue skies.
I'm standing on a chair.
Lord, can you reach
My hand from there.
Or must I rise
Up in the air.
With what faith I have left.
Locked my soul.
But still open to theft.
poem by Kevin East
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Cricket's Love Song
cricket's shrill
courting love
each shrill digs
at my lonely heart
each shrill
an extra inch
of lonelines
cricket's shrill
a field of love songs
not even one for me
each shrill chills
this lonely heart
cricket's shrill
courting love
i wonder whether
she would come
for this late night tryst
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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The Song of the Cicadas
Yesterday there came to me
from a green and graceful tree
as I loitered listlessly
nothing doing, nothing caring,
light and warmth and fragrance sharing
with the butterfly and the bee,
while the sapling-tops a-glisten
danced and trembled, wild and willing
such a sudden sylvan shrilling
that I could not choose but listen
Green Cicadas, Black Cicadas,
happy in the gracious weather,
Floury-baker, Double-Drummer,
all as one and all together,
how they voiced the golden summer.
Stealing back there came to me
as I loitered listlessly
'neath the green and graceful tree,
nothing doing, nothing caring,
boyhood moments spent in sharing
with the butterfly and the bee
youth and freedom, warmth and glamour
while Cicadas round me shrilling,
set the sleepy noontide thrilling
with their keen insistent clamour.
Green Cicadas, Black cicadas,
happy in the gracious weather
Floury-bakers, double-drummers
all as one and all together---
how they voice the bygone summers!
poem by Roderic Quinn
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0029 This night, this night of endless miracle
On this Mediterranean night with its light breeze
scented with the sun-warmed herbs
drifting down from cooling, stony hills,
a million stars you’ve never seen before
shine on a million crickets singing
as if from eternity to eternity
and you cannot say, and there’s
no need to say, which is which;
the trembling of the stars,
the susurration of cicadas,
join as in endless praise
of the imagination of their maker
who made imagination too
and though the cicadas, singing, may never know
that the stars they sing to
are shining from a thousand years ago
and though the stars may never know
that the cicadas that they shine upon
are a thousand years here from their now,
it’s all known, to the mind that made the vines
that made the grapes that made the wine
singing in my veins tonight
like cicadas susurrating in the starlight
as you hear them now
this night, this night of endless miracle
poem by Michael Shepherd
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The Man Beside Me
now we are sailing on a
bamboo raft
floating on a silk river
bound to the other
side
except for the man
with a long bamboo pole
to touch the floor
and push us more
there is this man
beside me murmuring
his face is covered
by the shadow of his
big straw hat
the natives respect
him thinking that he
is god sent
knowing the words of
the mountain gods
who give them rain
after the drought
he chatters the song
of the cicadas
he murmurs the heaves
of the rain
finally he stops and
hands in the silence
of the rocks
that protrude in the
middle of the river
the waters rise
flood rages on
and i begin to hear
another song
of the incoming storm
then we arrive at the other
side of the river
this time we have become
one in the fold of the
fury asking the protection
of the mountain's belly
the morning news shall
tell about two men who
are fuming the seeds of
discontent of the plains
and the city
we have no names here
just coincidences
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Sunrise, Sunset
O Sun, When you rise,
It’s morning dawn.
When you set,
It’s evening dusk.
O Sun, Seeing your beauty lighting
Shining on landscape from dawn
Shining on seascape from dusk
It comes from dawn to dusk.
O Sun, rise from East
O Sun, set to West
From East to West,
Celestial light comes and go,
Seasons come and go.
Here come four seasons
North to South, East to West
From Spring comes Autumn,
From Summer comes Winter.
O Sun, From rising East
To setting West
O Moon, Come rising East
To setting West
Cycle never end,
It’s endless cycle,
Seeing sunset every dusk,
Seeing sunrise every dawn.
Making us pondering..
Make us wondering
Where, When will be next..
Sunrise, sunset..
poem by Lawrence Hiung
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That Afternoon
i was there again
standing by the side of the old
glass windows
hazy because of the dust
it is hazy, hazy
the sea is linen white
the coconut trees as tall as they are very old
planted perhaps before the war
before the Japanese came
and ravished the spirits of our innocent people
i was there again
standing on a moment
always seeing
that rusty van parked
without its front wheel
nobody from there is asking
what is happening
it is hazy, as hazy as dusts
on that old glass window
then a black bird flies through
it breaking the thin old glass
into shattered pieces
the afternoon ended
on that sudden noise
i am telling you
i am not shocked because
i am not new to this
how can i be? i am as old and as
tall as that coconut tree
i am from this place
and i know each grain of sand
on the shore
of that white linen sea.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Voiceless! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
Climbed the stairs slowly due to arthritis
Rummaged in the bag for the house keys.
Unlocked the main door, and wearily stepped in
Laughing Buddha seemed to mock and grin…
Kept her stuff, and rushed to the refrigerator.
Took out frozen food along with a bottle of water.
The house was quiet, after the din of work place.
Badly, needed some solitude and her own little space.
Just then she got two messages from her family on mobile.
Hubby- sorry, a client meet, she read with a taste of bile.
Son- ma, last moment decided to go for Oscar winner,
‘Slum Dog Millionaire’, so please don’t wait for dinner.
Was she mad or glad when she threw the TV remote?
She took out her pen and made some notes.
Later, she made a salad and chicken roast
And had it with chilly pepper and garlic toast.
Outside the cicadas were performing a concert
There was a light drizzle, as she had a dessert.
A shower of rain and cicadas come alive.
Is it because they have voiceless wives?
In his book ‘The wonderful world of Insects, trees and wild flowers’
Ruskin Bond, quotes a Greek poet
‘Happy are the Cicadas for they have voiceless wives.’
Apparently, female Cicadas are dumb.the Greek used to keep male Cicadas in cage, as they loved their music.
poem by Mamta Agarwal
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Wild East
(ian hunter)
Well its tuesday night
How Id like to be inside at this time
Watchin t.v. is killin me
Its such a drag tonight
I feel like jason
Just found a rusty fleece
And the cyclops all laughin at me
You cant tame wild east
Wild east wild east
Wild east wild east
Now some cynic from the methadone clinic
He keeps on bothering me
He writes all my lyrics backwards on diapers
And hangs em from the local trees
Watch out, white boy
Dont argue with a sawn off piece
Im a crazy son, mama
I love the grease of wild east
Wild east wild east
Wild east wild east
Wild east wild east
Wild east wild east
Now jezebel dont feel too well, she talks to jane
bout a one way conversation on a subway train
Hey! they took away her wallet and her valise
Love hate, love hate, love hate, love hate, wild east
Wild east wild east
Wild east wild east
Wild east wild east
Wild east come on crazy wild east
(repeat and fade)
song performed by by Ian Hunter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Long Time Coming
i do not know
when
you come down
and make me crazy,
i do not when
you are going to make me
light hazy and
busey...
not
wasted...
i do not who you
are
until
you make me go
down,
go crazy....
i do not know,
that is the feeling
i have and
i want
when i go down and hazy....
i do not know
how far
i can fight it
beat it
and that is
how i go down and hazy
and i like it.
you
poem by Atef Ayadi
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~I Choose the Mountain~
The low lands call
I am tempted to answer
They are offering me a free dwelling
Without having to conquer
The massive mountain makes its move
Beckoning me to ascend
A much more difficult path
To get up the slippery bend
I cannot choose both
I have a choice to make
I must be wise
This will determine my fate
I choose, I choose the mountain
With all its stress and strain
Because only by climbing
Can I rise above the plane
I choose the mountain
And I will never stop climbing
I choose the mountain
And I shall forever be ascending
I choose the mountain
poem by Howard Simon
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piercing the serenity
of the mountain air
the shrill of eagles
haiku by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Tanzania In Africa
Rise up Africa!
Rise up Africans! !
Rise up Ghana!
Rise up Ghanaians! !
Rise up Tanzania!
Rise up Tanzanians! !
Tanzania oh Tanzania,
The land of my friend;
Oh Tanzania!
The land of Dr. Julius Nyerere of Africa!
You are blessed with Mount Kilimanjaro,
The land of my friend called, Dr. Ekk;
This is wher true love does span the ages.
You are the highest Mountain in Africa,
Overflowing with colours;
And the wonders of the forest are,
Tanganyika, Rukwa, Nyasa and Lake Victoria!
Oh Tanzania,
Like the hunter's gun;
Oh Tanzania,
The night falls and the rivers bring out their beauties;
So, how many rivers do i have to cross?
Rise up Tanzania,
How many mountains do i have to climb?
Of a country called Tanzania in Africa,
How many Lakes do i have to see?
Maybe, Dr. Ekk will tell me more.
This is your own son living in Shinyanga,
A noble Doctor to his people and the world;
Could it be 'Der Es Salam'?
Then, i have to learn more from these Islands too;
The Islands of Zanzibar and Pemba is what i mean.
What about Tanga?
This is on the Coastal Range with beauty;
Oh Tanzania! !
Do tell me more about yourself;
Bounded by the Indian Ocean is your love.
I am rather bounded by the South Atlantic Ocean;
Like Ghana to Dr. Kwame Nkrumah,
So is Tanzania to Dr. Julius Nyerere.
I am a Ghanaian and,
I have to learn from you as an African;
So, rise up Africa! !
From the North to the South,
Then from the East to the West;
Rise up oh Africans! !
Cos', we are all Africans.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Still I Am Here
Still I am here to rise
Like the sun in the east.
Optimistic predictions
Are my guide
I am here to rise.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Bloom upon the Mountain—stated
667
Bloom upon the Mountain—stated—
Blameless of a Name—
Efflorescence of a Sunset—
Reproduced—the same—
Seed, had I, my Purple Sowing
Should endow the Day—
Not a Topic of a Twilight—
Show itself away—
Who for tilling—to the Mountain
Come, and disappear—
Whose be Her Renown, or fading,
Witness, is not here—
While I state—the Solemn Petals,
Far as North—and East,
Far as South and West—expanding—
Culminate—in Rest—
And the Mountain to the Evening
Fit His Countenance—
Indicating, by no Muscle—
The Experience—
poem by Emily Dickinson
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The Rise & Fall
These are the streets I used to walk
On summer nights, sit out and talk
Thats the house where I used to live
I remember what I would give.
This is the town I wont forget
And after anger theres nothing left
Walking now round and round
Familiar sights are open ground.
Being here again
I can recall
Forgotten moments
The rise and fall.
We used to live where children play
They leave their homes a mile away
To come and stand in trees and grass
Where we once walked the memories last.
Being here again
I can recall
Forgotten moments
The rise and fall.
The sun shines east, the sun shines west
But I know where the sun shines best
Casey street in the afternoon
Once again its over too soon.
Being here again
I can recall
Forgotten moments
The rise and fall.
Being here again
I can recall
Forgotten moments
The rise and fall.
Rise
(rise)
(rise)
Rise and fall
Rise and fall
song performed by by Madness
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rise & Fall
These are the streets I used to walk
On summer nights, sit out and talk
Thats the house where I used to live
I remember what I would give.
This is the town I wont forget
And after anger theres nothing left
Walking now round and round
Familiar sights are open ground.
Being here again
I can recall
Forgotten moments
The rise and fall.
We used to live where children play
They leave their homes a mile away
To come and stand in trees and grass
Where we once walked the memories last.
Being here again
I can recall
Forgotten moments
The rise and fall.
The sun shines east, the sun shines west
But I know where the sun shines best
Casey street in the afternoon
Once again its over too soon.
Being here again
I can recall
Forgotten moments
The rise and fall.
Being here again
I can recall
Forgotten moments
The rise and fall.
Rise
(rise)
(rise)
Rise and fall
Rise and fall
song performed by by Madness
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Belloc III
From western councils turn your face
those salamander cells!
seek you councils in the east
where truth, a maiden, dwells.
Remember, where the sun shines first-
he rises in the east
and only when he leaves those courts
descends to western steeps.
His promises are pink and pure
and delicately given-
goldenly he holds the ear
and countenance of heaven.
He cannot help to further rise
and wane in warmth and light:
to those who see him in the east
a perfect second sight.
poem by Morgan Michaels
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