New Potato Caboose
Last leaf fallen bare earth where green was born,
Black madonna two eagles hang against a cloud,
Sun comes up blood red wind yells among the stone,
All graceful instruments are known.
When the windows all are broken and your loves become a toothless crone,
When the voices of the storm sound like a crowd,
Winter morning breaks, youre all alone.
The eyes are blind, blue visions, all a seer can own,
And touching makes the flesh to cry out loud
This ground on which the seed of love is sown,
All graceful instruments are known.
song performed by by Grateful Dead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Sometimes I Wonder
Sometimes I wonder
What it would have been like
If I had been born a different person
Sometimes I wonder
While the rain hits the ground
Whether I would have been more of a being
Instead of sitting here,
Being here,
But not really living
Instead of walking,
Touching,
But not really sensing
That we need more help than we have
Sometimes I wonder
If we are really wounded
Compared to the life of the earth
Sometimes I wonder
If we can really think about
New changes
Gray and silver changes
New instruments, new buildings
When the world’s needed change is black and white
Blind Love
Words and music by tom waits
Now youre gone
And its hotels and whiskey and sad luck days
And I dont care if they miss me
I never remember their names
They say if you get far enough away
Youll be on your way back home
Well Im at the station
And I cant get on the train
Must be blind love
The only kind of love is stone blind love
The only kind of love is stone blind love
The only kind of love is stone blind love
Oh blind love
Blind love
Stone blind love
Stone blind love
Well the streets turning blue
The dogs are barking and the night has come
And its tears that are falling
From these brown eyes now
And I wonder where you are
And I whisper your name
(I whisper your name)
And the only way to find you
Is if I close my eyes
And find you with my blind love
The only kind of love is stone blind love
The only kind of love is stone blind love
The only kind of love is stone blind love
Oh blind love
Blind love
Stone blind love
Stone blind love
Oh its blind love
The only kind of love is stone blind love
The only kind of love is stone blind love
The only kind of love is stone blind love
Oh blind love
Blind love
Stone blind love
song performed by by Bob Seger
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Shape of Death
What does love look like? We know
the shape of death. Death is a cloud
immense and awesome. At first a lid
is lifted from the eye of light:
there is a clap of sound, a white blossom
belches from the jaw of fright,
a pillared cloud churns from white to gray
like a monstrous brain that bursts and burns,
then turns sickly black, spilling away,
filling the whole sky with ashes of dread;
thickly it wraps, between the clean sea
and the moon, the earth's green head.
Trapped in its cocoon, its choking breath
we know the shape of death:
Death is a cloud.
What does love look like?
Is it a particle, a star -
invisible entirely, beyond the microscope and Palomar?
A dimension unimagined, past the length of hope?
Is it a climate far and fair that we shall never dare
discover? What is its color, and its alchemy?
Is it a jewel in the earth-can it be dug?
Or dredged from the sea? Can it be bought?
Can it be sown and harvested?
Is it a shy beast to be caught?
Death is a cloud,
immense, a clap of sound.
Love is little and not loud.
It nests within each cell, and it
cannot be split.
It is a ray, a seed, a note, a word,
a secret motion of our air and blood.
It is not alien, it is near-
our very skin-
a sheath to keep us pure of fear.
poem by May Swenson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Little Bird Song
Theres a little bird
Somebody sent down to earth
To live along the wind
Blowing on the wind
And she sleeps on the wind
This little bird, somebody sent
Light and fragile
And feathered sky blue
Thin and graceful
The sun shining through
She flies so high up in the sky
Way out of reach of human eyes
Light and fragile
And feathered sky blue
Thin and graceful
The sun shining through
She flies so high up in the sky
Way out of reach of human eyes
Light and fragile
And feathered sky blue
Thin and graceful
The sun shining through
And the only time that she touches ground
Is when that little bird, little bird
Is when that little bird, little bird
Is when that little bird, little bird
Is when that little bird dies
song performed by by Jewel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Shortest Moment That The Butterfly Tries To Speak
how many flutters of its wings is its lifetime?
not a hundred, this butterfly with blue shaking lines on its wings
some dots of black on the lower tip
some flaps of dust as you hold it.
we love to see it freely hovering from one flower to another
blending with its colors, it is not trying to hide anything
beautiful, it is showing itself, beautiful butterfly,
how gentle, soft to our hearts as we watch it
there is no sound of its wings and its graceful feeding on the nectars
then it rests on a leaf. we leave it there.
the wind last night was strong.
we see the leaf where it stayed on the pebbled ground.
there are no wings. there is no trace where the blue butterfly is.
how many flutters did that butterfly make?
such a brief moment, yet so beautiful
that is the message of the life of its lost wings.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Shattered windows, Colors of white
Across the street is a new house with a room painted red, with no holes of white.
Next to me, a house purple, with its color pealing off, with holes of black and white
At the end of the street, an old house once yellow, what now remains white.
The sound of a hammer building a house, entering a place with a color unknown.
On the street,
Windows covered with ice
Some shine with light.
Some broken
Some fixed
Some lost, out of sight.
A house, two blocks from here.
Shines with lights of yellow, red, and green everywhere.
A wall keeping the wind from blowing anywhere.
The house next door, at the dawn of the day.
Paints its room black, and peals the color away.
The wall crumbles.
The wind blows across the colors of yellow, red and green
Breaks all the windows.
Turns the yellow to blue, red to black, and green to white.
The house two blocks away.
Adds a line of yellow red and green everyday.
To allow the house of blue, black and white to shine for us some day.
poem by Linda ErikssonBique
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Graceful Celebration
Today is a graceful celebration
with shiny sunny skies, sparkling, glistening, gleaming
The celebration is in the company we keep.
The mood we meet in the morning
Today is a graceful celebration
angels flying in the sky
Today is a graceful celebration
fireworks going off in the twilight
Today is a graceful celebration
moon is peaking out of the clouds
Today was....a graceful celebration Tommorrow will even be better :)
poem by Kimberly Anderson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sky-Minded
Blue sky,
blue sky.
Looking at you, wishing the day by.
Blue sky,
purple sky.
Storm coming in, here it is, there's the eye.
Blue sky,
grey sky.
The earth is wailing, the thunder yells, and the clouds cry.
Blue sky,
grey sky,
black sky.
Tore away at the moon, swallowed stars, listened to the sun die.
Black sky
Green sky
Orange sky
Red sky
Pink and yellow and mean sky.
Come on and roll in; it's only in my mind.
poem by Delilah Miller
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Instruments Of War
The baton is raised.
Silent savagery, lurks in the green.
Silent feet, step softly,
waiting for fear to explode.
No sound make...let no twig break...
breathe softly, begging breath,
beat quietly, pounding heart.
Like drums, stretched too tight,
under the shadow of fisted war sticks.
Like steel strings, stretched too tight,
under poised sharp fingers.
The instruments lie waiting.
The baton falls!
A thunderous collage of,
flashes and screams,
fire and flesh,
metal and bone,
ripping,
stripping,
life dripping,
red tears.
The conductors baton stills,
and as the green grows silent,
he smiles.
Instruments, lie broken,
the green smolders,
and tomorrow,
remembers no more.
(1990)
poem by George Vuyakovich
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I still think that I'm playing instruments, not just pushing buttons and there it goes. It's interactive and alive with the sound and the manipulation and it plays like instruments.
This Little Bird
John d loudermilk
Theres a little bird that somebody sends
Down to the earth to live on the wind.
Born on the wind and he sleeps on the wind
This little bird that somebody sends.
Hes light and fragile and feathered sky blue,
So thin and graceful the sun shines through.
This little bird who lives on the wind,
This little bird that somebody sends.
He flies so high up in the sky
Out of reach of human eye.
And the only time that he touches the ground
Is when that little bird
Is when that little bird
Is when that little bird dies.
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Inward Man
Day after day the outward man crumbles and breaks down, and the inward man is born and grows in wisdom and knowledge. Thomas Merton
Leaf-bare,
swaying, slave
to the storm, I wait
for the gale
to drive me down,
dismember me
scatter my shattered limbs
across winter's ground,
while deep inside
my cambrian core
life persists!
I'll survive.
Beyond my limit
I will arise!
poem by Steven Federle
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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These Poems
these poems be but the heart born hand,
the oak undressed, the pine that grieves.
the wings of bodies strewn by time,
the scent of flesh, and of blood.
the fire built for the faceless ones,
the sky heavy with storm.
the dreams of the child in red clay dirt,
the sound of the horn just outside sound!
the body wrapped in shadow's grasp.
the vibration deep inside stone.
the window latch broken by the wind,
the light beyond both death and prayer!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Voices of nature
Wind, the uninterrupted language which holds the secrets to life
the silence pursues us to listen with the deepest part of our heart
A fallen leaf in flight bears the basics of something so right
by seeing its beauty in flight our hearts absorbs its might
Blue, green, brown and yellow the landmarks of natures life
powerful foundations they hold to strengthen its roots so bright
Water, a giver of life which replenishes our thirst at night
calm but deadly it is when wind intervenes, so unforeseen
Green, rising vertically from the ground it makes no sound
a nutrition for all living things it has a meaning to deeper things
Brown, the foundation to growth as ground refines what we chose
the soil to new beginnings, a creation of life's divine giving's
Yellow, our lantern of guiding us through the unknown day
growths helping hand it resembles so many unforeseen plans
Blue, green, brown and yellow combined for a new life beginning
if mankind could see the passion nature exceeds, life would be so serene
Blue, green, brown and yellow all the symbols of natures heaven
water, grass, earth and sun they are the life support since it begun
United as one to stimulate growth to show us the secrets to life
as the voices of nature travels, it reveals the unfound path.
poem by Maryam Khan
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To A Sleeping Child
I
Oh, 'tis a touching thing, to make one weep,—
A tender infant with its curtain'd eye,
Breathing as it would neither live nor die
With that unchanging countenance of sleep!
As if its silent dream, serene and deep,
Had lined its slumber with a still blue sky
So that the passive cheeks unconscious lie
With no more life than roses—just to keep
The blushes warm, and the mild, odorous breath.
O blossom boy! so calm is thy repose.
So sweet a compromise of life and death,
'Tis pity those fair buds should e'er unclose
For memory to stain their inward leaf,
Tinging thy dreams with unacquainted grief.
II
Thine eyelids slept so beauteously, I deem'd
No eyes could wake so beautiful as they:
Thy rosy cheeks in such still slumbers lay,
I loved their peacefulness, nor ever dream'd
Of dimples:—for those parted lips so seem'd,
I never thought a smile could sweetlier play,
Nor that so graceful life could chase away
Thy graceful death,—till those blue eyes upbeam'd.
Now slumber lies in dimpled eddies drown'd
And roses bloom more rosily for joy,
And odorous silence ripens into sound,
And fingers move to sound.—All-beauteous boy!
How thou dost waken into smiles, and prove,
If not more lovely thou art more like Love!
poem by Thomas Hood
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Eyes
Eyes are blue
Eyes are green
Eyes are true
Eyes are mean
Eyes are bright
Give the light
Eyes are black
Like the night
Eyes are cold
Eyes are warm
Eyes are angry
Like a storm
Eyes are kind
Eyes are blind
Eyes are evil
Eyes of devil
Eyes are hungry
Eyes of walls
Eyes are empty
Eyes of dolls
Eyes are loving
Eyes are charming
Eyes are lying
Truth denying
Eyes are haughty
Eyes are naughty
Eyes are naïve
To all they believe
Eyes are strained
A fear remained
Eyes without hope
Ready for the rope
Eyes are vulnerable
Eyes that gamble
Eyes are sensitive
Eyes are attentive
Eyes are stubborn
Eyes are submissive
Eyes of a new born
Eyes are pensive
Loving eyes are true
Black, brown or blue
My eyes are green
A lot they have seen
©Larisa Rzhepishevska
January 11th,2011
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Vale To Shore Through Mother Earths Door
So breath-takingly dressed in Earthen garb--
Moss and dandelions for her hair---
A chocolate brown-evening gown--
With accessories so rare;
Earthen minerals dazzle her graceful neck...
With agate stones for her delicate ears-
Soft cotton shoes-in a cobalt blue...
Such a beautiful reflection in the rivers mirror;
Mother Earth sizzles this day--
On her way 'cross Emerald Vale--
Villagers stare-quite beguiled by her hair--
'Tis a Green-Earth Dancing Tale;
Her flaxen mane flows ever graceful--
Her dazzling eyes-a brillant blue...
With skin-a dream-of peaches and cream--
Her life- a lush verdant hue;
Mother Earth dances with joy...
Welcoming in each New Dawn--
Dressed in natures best-truly blessed...!
She embraces the glistening dew upon the green lawn;
She is so breathtaking in her Earthen garb...
With a floral bouquet for her hands-
Mother Earth 'tis filled with mirth--
As she walks 'long sea-shores alibaster sands;
Watching the tides as they ebb and flow...
Directed by the Moon upon high--
Mother Earth-'tis soon to give birth...
'Neath the shorelines Azure sky;
As she continues on ever forward...
In her spirited dazzling green array--
The Green Palms-they line-the shores of time-
Hence embellishing the Graceful Turquoise Bay;
May 23,2010
A Green Poem
Thank You God
poem by Theodora Onken
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Get Off Of My Cloud
(mick jagger and keith richards)
I live in an apartment on the ninety-ninth floor of my block
And I sit at home looking out the window
Imagining the world has stopped
Then in flies a guy whos all dressed up like a union jack
And says, Ive won five pounds if I have his kind of detergent pack
I say, hey! you! get off of my cloud
Hey! you! get off of my cloud
Hey! you! get off of my cloud
Dont hang around cause twos a crowd
On my cloud baby
The telephone is ringing,
I say, hi, its me. who is it there on the line?
A voice says, hi, hello, how are you?
Well, I guess Im doin fine
He says, its three a.m., theres too much noise
Dont you people ever wanna go to bed?
Just cause you feel so good, do you have
To drive me out of my head?
I say, hey! you! get off of my cloud
Hey! you! get off of my cloud
Hey! you! get off of my cloud
Dont hang around cause twos a crowd
On my cloud baby
I was sick and tired, fed up with this,
And decided to take a drive downtown
It was so very quiet and peaceful
There was nobody, not a soul around
I laid myself out, I was so tired and I started to dream
In the morning the parking tickets were just like
A flag stuck on my window screen
I say, hey! you! get off of my cloud
Hey! you! get off of my cloud
Hey! you! get off of my cloud
Dont hang around cause twos a crowd
On my cloud
Hey! you! get off of my cloud
Hey! you! get off of my cloud
Hey! you! get off of my cloud
Dont hang around cause twos a crowd
song performed by by Rick Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Elegy On The Death Of A Church Mouse
‘Colonel Gaddafi is dead; long live Gaddafi’,
- whose words those are?
don’t shoot, don’t shoot,
enough blood is spilled!
Gaddafi,
a leaf from the tree is dead;
leaf sprouts, leaf eats, leaf sleeps in the sky,
leaf waves the world in the cheer of palm,
makes no sand out of storm,
no beating themselves by the horse drain,
no hanging noose by the cock’s strain.
Leaf feeds the tree with green
when upon it’s tender face, the horrid-sun shine,
leaf, bearer of flower, bearer of seed,
never the taster of the sap from earth
till drops dead in the paleness of red,
‘don't shoot, don't shoot,
upon the sand is blood,
for the Colonel is dead’,
said, the tree,
and said, ‘Long live Gaddafi!
poem by Saranyan Bee
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Off The Ground
There must have been a lot of heartache
For you to sink so low.
You must have had a ton of pressure.
Only answer if the answers no.
I need loving, you need loving too.
Doesnt take a lot to get off the ground.
There must have been a lot of magic
When the world was born.
Let me be the one you wish for,
One you call for, when youre all alone.
I need loving, you need loving too.
Wouldnt take a lot to get off the ground.
Off the ground, off the ground.
Fly around, fly around.
Hear the sound, hear the sound.
Off the ground, off the ground.
Though it takes a lot of power
To make a bog tree grow.
It doesnt need a pot of knowledge.
For a seed knows what a seed must know.
You need loving, I need loving too.
Doesnt take a lot to get off the ground.
Off the ground, off the ground.
Fly around, fly around.
Hear the sounnd, hear the sound.
Off the ground, off the ground.
Hear the sound, hear the sound.
Off the groound, off the ground.
Yeah yeah, off the ground.
song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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