Somethings On The Move
She wore a black tiara
Rare gems upon her fingers
And she came from distant waters
Where northern lights explode
To celebrate the dawning
Of the new wastes of winter
Gathering royal momentum
On the icy road.
With chill mists swirling
Like petticoats in motion
Sighted on horizons
For ten thousand years
The lady of the ice sounds
A deathly distant rumble
To titanic-breaking children lost
In melting crystal tears.
Capturing black pieces
In a glass-fronted museum
The white queen rolls
On the chessboard of the dawn
Squeezing through the valleys
Pausing briefly in the corries
The ice-mother mates
And a new age is born.
Driving all before her
Un-stoppable, un-straining
Her cold creaking mass
Follows reindeer down.
Thin spreading fingers seek
To embrace the sill-warm bundles
That huddle on the doorsteps
Of a white london town.
Oh, sunshine --- take me now away from here
Im a needle on a spiral in a groove.
And the turntable spins
As the last waltz begins
And the weather-man says
Somethings on the move.
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Accord
Accord
Step splintered walk through the sun
Who drew those feet like two lonely leaves
That never heard for each other
By a rootless tree
Who blew the wind
Into the sight of those
Black ashen eyes spreading over
The water that rests in a Sunday morn
Who tied that hair
And with which hands
Which fingers dragged
The ties into naught.
Accord
Like an accord of the distant music
Spreading horizons into merging hues
Splitting earth sky border
Who forgot
This thin line thinning even more
Up to the point of not ever being recognized
But still somehow breaking the heart
Once in accord
Reconciled?
©Miroslava Odalović
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Lady Wore Black
On a lonely walk this morning
A light mist in the air
Dark clouds laughing at me in silence
Casting shadows through my hair
In the distance I saw a woman
Dressed in black with eyes of grey
She wore her pain like a shackled spirit
Eternal life was her debt to pay
The lady wore black
Its the sign of the prisoners lives
The lady wore black
See the years through the tears in her eyes
The lady wore black
Her mystic power calls to me
The lady wore black
Her love can set me free
The wind song whispered a warning
Telling me to beware
Of the quiet shadowed woman
And of the sadness I would share
We sat together for sometime together in silence
Never speaking in words
Of all her thoughts she spoke with her eyes
And I listened remembering all I heard
The lady wore black
Its the sign of the prisoners lives
The lady wore black
See the years through the tears in her eyes
The lady wore black
Her mystic power calls to me
The lady wore black
Her love can set me free
The words she spoke were of forgotten lives
And of all knowledge gained
Memries I had and didnt know why
With a smile she explained
I should have listened to the winds cold warning
And walked the other way
I touched her soul and now I bear her sentence
But for her love Ill gladly pay
The lady wore black
Its the sign of the prisoners lives
The lady wore black
See the years through the tears in her eyes
The lady wore black
Her mystic power calls to me
The lady wore black
Her love can set me free
song performed by by Queensryche
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Pleasant Day For July
In the cool sun of mid Winter a gentle northern breeze
Is whispering in the parkland on the gum and wattle trees
The leaves are quietly stirring as the branches gently sway
And the sparrows are chirping on a pleasant Winter's day.
Going by the weather forecast heavy rain is on the way
The calm before the storm as some are known to say
But we won't be complaining as we do need lots of rain
To add to the Town reservoir and bring life to the creek and drain.
A pleasant day for July in the Southern Winter of the year
The sweet flute of the magpie is a joyful thing to hear
The blackbirds in the garden gathering material for their nest
And Spring is not that distant the Season many love best.
A pleasant day for July with just a slight chill in the air
And even in the southern Winter days such as this are rare
The first of September the calendar Spring's first day
In time does not seem distant barely six weeks away.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sola Sistim
Come get some orange juice, it's great.
[repeated throughout the song, each time in different speaker]
My eyes burn naked,
my black cold numbers,
my insecurities,
my devious nature,
make it go away.
My rest between rubber,
my spider shadow,
my shattered dancer.
Beautiful, broken,
my crystal fingers,
beautiful, broken,
my crystal fingers.
My glass like rain,
my illumination,
my cracks are sliding,
shaker, feather,
rubber, duster,
cold, cool,
your fingers, broken,
beautiful, wonderful,
paper flaps,
how you love,
love to love,
love and stitch,
shaker, rubber, striper.
Beautiful, broken,
my crystal fingers,
beautiful, broken,
my crystal fingers.
song performed by by Underworld
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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City Nights, City Lights
City Lights
cobbled streets
I always love this time
Darkened Roads
walking
the fog playing at my feet
silent
Cold mists of rain
greet me
welcoming me
this is my place
Distant ships approaching
dark grey monoliths
drifting on the black waters
a wonder for human eyes
Sirens sound
I know I am not alone
the peace shattered by a distant cry
the night conceals all
Tragedy and Contentment
players in the evening act
the noise draws nigh
time to move on
out into the Fog
Out into the Night
poem by Robert Edmondson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Man Of Miracles
Written by james young, raymond brandle, dennis deyoung
Lead vocals by james young
He was a man of miracles
Fighting the solar windstorm
A winged horse guides his way
Oracle of the ancient midnight
Calls forth everlasting pain
And I know, yes I know
He was a man of miracles
Riding golden meteorites
Ruler of distant galaxies
Born of the northern lights
Of the northern lights
Sorcerer of the dark moon
Who dare incur his rage?
First child of the scorpion
Prophet of the crystal age
And I know, yes I know
He was a man of miracles
Riding golden meteorites
Ruler of distant galaxies
Born of the northern lights
Of the northern lights
He was a man of miracles
song performed by by Styx
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Can't Change the Weather
Crisp and white and cold
It was a beautiful snowy day
Life seemed devoid of turmoil
As I watched the ducks at play
Trees covered in their lacy winter white
The sky was gray with threatening snow
And yet a bit of white peaked through
It was the best kind’a day I know
And as I drove across a bridge
Slush was forming and the snow rearranged
It seemed as though there was a pause
I knew something was about to change
I love the changing of the weather
A cold and blowing storm
And then as quick as fingers snap
It would be sunny and sweet and warm
I guess whatever the season
Or whatever the weather right now
We might as well just settle in
Can’t change the weather anyhow!
poem by Marilyn Lott
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Old Black Dawning
I hung around
On the planet mabel
She tried to stand
But she was not able
She tried to find the truth
She tried to colonize space
She only had a few
But it was a good race
Old black dawning is coming on
Old black dawning is coming on
Old black dawning
Old black dawning
Im always happy to
Go down to old tucson
After you had your fun
Its time to move on
Ive got a favorite story
About the tower of babel
Some say its true
And some say its a fable
Old black dawning is coming on
Old black dawning is coming on
Old black dawning
Old black dawning
song performed by by Frank Black
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shades of Grey
Black is the color of the night
Grey is the shadow of you I sight
White is the shirt you wear
Black is your suit I declare
White is the wall you lean against
Grey is our path I sensed
Black is the memory I lost
Black is the road we never crossed
Grey is the prospect of the day
Grey is the taxi driving away
Black is the truth to never find you
Black is everything I can't undo
Black is my room without light
White is my color of hope in spite
Grey is the circle around my heart
Black is the truth like a work of art
© 2011
poem by Kristina Louisa Carr
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Black Victory
The true joy is the measure of self-justice planted in the essence of black beauty; we are the black
soul of mind serenity, we come a long way we cannot fail!
Not at this time bounded by dimensions of poverty and inequality, no! Not within a thousand years
We have survived the storms of cold mentality; our hearts are forever thankful and for an eternity will sing all hail!
Sing for the redemption of all; lost years, the seed of black thought and the time spent in the valley of tears
Upon this day we have carried the burden of our struggle, the sorrow within our tears is our testimony
We have conquered our fears, and the valley of tears painted by the seed of white age and thought
The progress can never be stopped by any measure, nor by law or by white the discrimination living in black Irony!
We shall win as we were meant to win, the black victory, we are the immortal battle that the white masters never fought!
poem by Sicelo Sithole
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lateralus
Black then white are all I see in my infancy.
Red and yellow then came to be, reaching out to me.
Lets me see.
As below, so above and beyond, I imagine
Drawn beyond the lines of reason.
Push the envelope. watch it bend.
Over thinking, over analyzing separates the body from the mind.
Withering my intuition, missing opportunities and I must
Feed my will to feel my moment drawing way outside the lines.
Black then white are all I see in my infancy.
Red and yellow then came to be, reaching out to me.
Lets me see there is so much more and
Beckons me to look thru to these infinite possibilities.
As below, so above and beyond, I imagine
Drawn outside the lines of reason.
Push the envelope. watch it bend.
Over thinking, over analyzing separates the body from the mind.
Withering my intuition leaving opportunities behind.
Feed my will to feel this moment urging me to cross the line.
Reaching out to embrace the random.
Reaching out to embrace whatever may come.
I embrace my desire to
I embrace my desire to
Feel the rhythm, to feel connected enough to step aside and weep like a widow
To feel inspired to fathom the power, to witness the beauty,
To bathe in the fountain,
To swing on the spiral
To swing on the spiral
To swing on the spiral of our divinity and still be a human.
With my feet upon the ground I move myeslf between the sounds and open wide to
Suck it in.
I feel it move across my skin.
Im reaching up and reaching out. Im reaching for the random or what ever will
Bewilder me.
What ever will bewilder me.
And following our will and wind we may just go where no ones been.
Well ride the spiral to the end and may just go where no ones been.
Spiral out. keep going.
Spiral out. keep going.
Spiral out. keep going.
Spiral out. keep going.
Spiral out. keep going.
song performed by by Tool
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Black and White and Red
Black and White
And Red I see
Demons they do
Torture me
Black and White
And Red all day
The voices are real
Or so they say
Black and White
And Red abound
I'm lost I call
I'm never found
Black and White
And Red flow out
I scream but you
Don't hear me shout
Black and White
And Red so bright
Exit blood and
Enter light
Black and White
And Red of death
Now I breathe
My final breath
poem by Anonymous Ghurl
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Black and White
Black and White By Dilantha Gunawardana
A story in black and white
Black and white;
Black in white; perhaps black on white;
White embedded in black;
Black around white, sprinkle or a speckle even a trickle;
Shadows on the porch on an eerie white night;
A piano keyboard, intertwined in ebony and white;
A checker or a droughts board or lofty chess pieces;
Black stallions and white mares;
All galloping in the pursuit of unending happiness;
A flow of nimbus with a speckle of cumulus;
Showers of blessings, black rain and even snow and hale;
The smog that kisses the snow flake clouds;
Chimneys and embers inside snowy winter bungalows;
We begin in ashes, black residual ashes;
Connected to a white umbilical cord;
We are born white, virgins in every sphere of life;
Then we learn of the agony of the ebony;
Even the bright light of white, even white water that softens our stance;
Criss-cross, diagonal, straight or in jumps in the many paths of life;
Life, a game of chess, as we sprinkle our lives with black and white;
And in the end, we are left with nothing but black and white;
A powdered white peau against the back dropp of a charcoal black suit
In an ebony coffin, with white shimmering handles
Then we burn in to ashes, residual embers
Ashes to ashes, powder of our existence
Black and white;
Our true essence of life.
poem by Dilantha Gunawardana
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A Wisp Of Mist
Was that a wisp of mist I saw, swirling across the lawn,
Drifting through the shrubbery, this early November’s dawn.
Frost had gathered on the grass, making it all crisp and white,
And so a chilly day has shown a vision of delight.
Winter’s fingers are moving and the land begins to freeze,
Dressed in a silver blanket by nature’s great expertise.
Icy world of sparkle, a unique transformation seen,
As a wisp of mist goes swirling slowly across the green.
poem by Ernestine Northover
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Another Child Moves On
The flowers in a still life painting never move
The phonograph needle on a record album never leaves the same groove
But in another town in another place
Another child is born to the human race
And another child moves on
We dream a little less each day
We suffer in some new way
Soon we discover a bright new lover
Then realize we were born for demise
As another child dances in front of our eyes
And another child moves on
The flowers in a still life painting never move
The phonograph needle on a record album never leaves the same groove
but in another town, in another place, another child joins the human race
and another child moves on
And when another child moves on
Tell me what is gained when he's gone?
In the great green valley of life
Another death cuts us like a knife
We play baseball in the lights at the park
Discover a new kiss by the moonlit dark
Watch silly shows as the picture tube glows
edit our speech to soothe our friends
Knowing full well how this all ends
And then another child moves on
The flowers in a still life painting never move
The phonograph needle on a record album never leaves the same groove
But in another town in some new place
Another child is born to the human race
And another child moves on
And another child moves on
Tell me who has lost whose won?
A mother sighs and a mother cries
A father merely lowers his eyes
And in another town in another place
A bright smiling child joins the human race
And the whole world smiles along
Beau Golden
1989
poem by Beau Golden
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As The Fog Rolls In
Kerouac comes out of the fog & mist
a ghost smoking a joint
offers me some
finally -
what suffering I think
to scratch out a few lines
stolen from the humming dynamo
which spins the universe -
cars pass along the low road
more pass on the higher road
red & blue lights along the horizon
disappear in the thick Atlantic fog
which swallows all remaining lights
car headlights
the farmer arrives turning on the light
which floods out through the barn doors
releases the horses to wander around their corral
the big red horse moves towards the fence
eyes me wishing to speak to me
or just looking for a treat
or someone to stroke his head
a Chinese flute is playing
such sad high fragile notes
as the fog rolls in
someone is teasing a tabla drum in the distance
as the fog rolls in from the gray Atlantic
someone is strumming a sitar
as the fog rolls in
someone is playing a jig on a fiddle
as the fog rolls in
everything has its own theme music
from the fog rolling in
to the celestial bodies
rolling across the firmament -
an ancient voice in the distance bellows
an old god reawakening
rising out of the sea
of myths & dreams
turns into a prosaic electronic being
the fog rolls in stays for days
our world shrinks
the buzzing stars a delight
as if dying one by one
as the black curtain is drawn shut
the distant hills disappear
lights flicker on towers then fade
cars pass on the road
til the road is cloaked in the mist
horses wander around their corral
keeping me company
as they too dissolve
as the light from my porch is swallowed
sucked into the pitch blackness
as I sit smoking a cigarette at 3am
the smoke swirls & curls
as the darkness enfolds me -
roads criss-crossing entangled
leading us into endless circles
lost in a maze of concrete & tar
black ribbons entwined
only trees & more trees
fields opening up
spreading to the horizon
cows lying down waiting for the rain
red barns & towering silos
houses on distant hills
then suburbia
a thousand cul-de-sacs
suddenly giant apartment complexes
pushing up through the earth
dropped out of the firmament
rise around us on all sides
towers of steel & glass
a city conquering the the country-side -
passing through a thousand quaint fishing villages
each a clone of the last
rocky shores boats tied up
old weather worn docks
in blinding light
or cloaked in mist & fog
trees along the shore road
velvet gray & green moss hanging from branches
a few scattered patches of living green
some trees half-dead line the shores
for a thousand miles
death-throes of a dying alien planet
not the one known in our childhood -
cannoeing across lifeless lakes
waves lapping against the canoe
not quite like the Indian Princess
who wrote of her singing paddle
lost in colonial dreams -
poem by Gordon Coombes
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Verwoerd is Black
This poem is pregnant
with the black bloodshed of 1976.
This poem is constipated
with slavery of the poor.
This poem is the titanic of people’s hopes
sinking in the freezing ocean of democracy.
This poem is the enemy of the state,
‘cause, this poem bears testimony.
Don’t you know?
Verwoerd is black.
This poem is a hook that fishes
odd deeds buried behind black faces.
This poem is a mirror
that reflects odd unknown images
of stinking rich black men.
This poem is the voice of the angry dead.
This poem is a hammer to nail
in the brain of greedy politicians.
This poem is a database
of all black leaders.
This poem bears testimony.
Don’t you know?
Verwoerd is black.
This poem is for you
black man who spits
at the sight of a white man.
This poem is for you
white man who owns a savaged land
full of secret mass graves.
This poem is for you
black and white who hug and kiss
to please Madiba.
This poem is for you
the poor, who sing:
freedom has finally come.
This poem is for you, who know no truth,
‘cause, this poem bears testimony.
Don’t you know?
Verwoerd is black.
This poem is for you
my brother & sister who have lost taste
of your mother-tongue
in the multiracial Model C schools.
This poem is for you
black mama, who has configured her black being
‘cause black is barbaric.
This poem is the anger of hunger.
This poem is for the unemployed voters
who find solace in booze, sex & crime.
This poem bears testimony.
Don’t you know?
Verwoerd is black.
poem by Mpho Ramaano
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Distant Light
Distant light flickers an invitation of hope.
In reaching it, there will be sanctification.
Dimness that surrounds the eyes
will be forgotten.
Black holes that open the heart
will be discarded.
Let the distant light come closer.
Let the distant light be a friend.
Shallow water cannot drown soul.
It can only hinder the passage.
Dampening the spirit as it frolics
like a moonbeam across the mind.
Distance lends unhappiness.
Let the distant light shine bright.
Let the distant light be a guide.
In closets of blackness the hands
seek an opening in the shadows.
They find nothing, but the eyes
focus on a distant light that
calls like a radio in the night.
Let the distant light embrace.
Let the distant light be closer.
In an emptiness of broken glass
there is a pattern to salvation.
Frame the light like fire in the glance,
walk towards it. Find escape.
Let the distant light be strong.
Let the distant light shine forever.
What is the distant light that shines?
What is its meaning in a journey?
This is an answer not easily explained.
This is a hope not readily known.
Let the distant light continue.
Let the distant light always shine.
poem by Chris G. Vaillancourt
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Mother Nature Can Be Fickle
Winter’s cold is Mother Nature’s way
Of saying, lie with me now, lay your head on my breast
It’s snow, a blanket under which to lay
Neath a crystal cover, enjoying winter's cold caress
Frost rimed windows … Mother Nature’s art
Icy abstractions painted with frosty finesse
Crystalline concoctions that form only a part
Of Mother Natures wonderful winter largesse
Ice coated limbs of slope shouldered trees
droop drowsily down as if fallen asleep
Unable to sway in winter’s frigid breeze
Appear as white mounds, when the snow drifts deep
The stillness one hears on cold winter nights
Broken by the sudden crack of ice laden boughs
The ethereal essence of undulating northern lights
Headlights in the sky for Nature’s snowplows
All is withdrawn, in awe of Nature’s might
Willingly waiting, deep neath frozen ground
Safely sequestered, from winter’s cruel bite
In warm tunnels and burrows, til spring comes around
Mother Nature invites winter into her domain
Cohabits with coldness, wantonly sleeps with Jack frost
Yet finds cold winter quickly falls to disdain
Invites in the spring…and tells winter to get lost
Mother Nature is fickle…and also the boss!
poem by David Whalen
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Black and White
My world is black and white,
The colors I see is black and white,
Hold me tight,
Don’t let me go,
See the tears I have cried,
Listen to my cry,
Look into my eyes,
My world is black and white,
Cut my wrist,
Black my eyes,
Blacken these thoughts I think of,
Black and white is all I can see,
The tears is all I can feel,
Feel me fading away,
Watching myself falling apart,
Look deep into my eyes,
Can you see me,
Can you feel the pain I feel,
I don’t understand why I am feeling this sad,
All the moments that once we shared has faded away like others have,
I never did tried to see the beyond the black and white clouds,
I need to face what I have become,
I need to find my way back,
The black and white is all I can see and feel,
My world has been black and white.
poem by Jennifer Rondeau
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