One nail goes in my barren wall, to bring the spring alive
I can almost hear the birds that greet, in morning's gold sunrise
There is a garden, now, within my palm, and dew within my eyes
The fog lifts high, and drifts away, and clouds within the sky
While butterflies, and bumble bees, bring color, oh, so grand
Addressing spring, caressing things, a rainbow in my hands.
A glimpse, as if through windowpanes, I'll fall in love anew
Enchanting me with roses, red, in bloom around my head
They welcome me to a cottage old, to cheer me from my blues
The world is painted softly, gold, in shades of pastel hues
From nature is a vast array, of color, painted, thus
I wish to hold the magic long, to frame, to keep, ... to last
Inspired by "Springtime By Monet" For Ekphrasis Contest Sponsored By Rick Parise
Look, it's the first bloom of spring
A proud daffodil stands all alone
Soon to be joined by others
And light up our lovely home
Like the sun she beams so brightly
Announcing that Spring is here
There's no shyness in her yellow bud
She wants our notice that much is clear
So like a magnet I'm drawn to her
And to all that she represents
The changing of the seasons
Gazing upon her brings sweet content
The birds are singing a happy song
The breeze is waving its approval
New beginnings are bursting forth
Bright colors are Winter's removal
Sleepy beauty is waking up
The prince has placed his kiss
The lone daffodil is now surrounded
Together they dance in bliss
Kindly my Spring fever is satisfied
What once was hope has now arrived
And the world has come alive again
The long Winter I've survived!
Contest: Spring Fever
Sponsored by: POETESS DARKLY
There are four seasons in a year. Spring, Summer, Fall and Winter. In the Spring time, you can enjoy the outdoors and go for a walk. And look at the trees turning beautiful colors, you can also enjoy raking the leaves into a big pile and jump into them. We also know the New Year is coming with Winter. Winter is a cold month with snow, now the children can play outside in the snow. And everyone else can enjoy the snow also.
And the storm calls to me in ways you'll never understand
A gentle call that urges my soul forth
The lighting guiding a path for my feet to walk
Between the stones and ash of all that once was
I stand in the echoing silence of the rain
It drops down upon my skin like the blessing waters of heaven
Soothing me, lifting the weight from my body
I feel at once as if I am home
Standing amid two dimensions
Caught between two skies - here and there
The night wraping around me in warmth
The gentle wind lifting me off my feet
Drops from the clouded moon washing away my body
and I am left just a soul, an essence
The storm calls me forth from beneath my roof
Beckoning me into its depth
I stand among the reeds in the basin
They dance and sway as if welcoming me
And I sway with them back
Caught up in the power that charges the air
That threatens to sweep me away
If the ground will just loosen its hold
The thunder rumbles a low welcoming growl
And I get pleasently lost within it
I am so small compared to its vastness
I close my eyes and succumb to the skies wishes
Rising higher until my feet no longer touch the ground
My fingertips touch the liquid color of the stars
A sigh drifts from my lips
There is no need of thought to stay afloat
There is no demand to breathe in air
No crushing weight upon my chest
As my lungs struggle to survive
There are no struggles here
I make my bed on blackened clouds
And give in to the call
The storm has claimed me as its own
It was such a struggle to stay upon the ground
When the storm would call me home
Play The Radio
Get Up And Dance All Night Long
Music Heals The Soul
He was born under a dreamy dancing star
On a beautiful spring night
And he left his heart's door ajar
For he never forgot that sight
He saw hatred, pain and scorn
And wished he wasn't born
He saw anger,sorrow,greed
And wanted another planet indeed
But then he smiled and said YES
To the spring sky,love and tenderness
Then he thought:I want to live
I want to forget and forgive
He said:Good night angels of death, good bye
You'll always be in my mind's eye,
Parting is such a sweet sorrow
But poetry, sun and rainbow are my tomorrow
This poem is dry/
Free from liquid tongues/
It cries out loud as the misty words blown reflects winter/
Hearts cold /
This poem is mine/
Re-read it after a while/
The message turns warmer in time/
You are told/
It carries old expressive survivors who died in the future/
Marry words that lose leaves but surviving the bitter cold season/
Words that bought blankets for them lyrical branches/
This poem is sweet/
Dry poems have rights to be pleased/
This poem is sweet/
Rhymes shelter on the sentence's rooftop before engagement parties/
Cut and paste scissors blur the vision/
Not true expression/
Bees group hug in mud of resurrected angels to echo this poem/
Echo this poem/
Spread the word in this cold world/
We will all get warm/
Rivers joyfully flow
Roses again bloom
Spring visits again!
Suns ember through the tree.
Chakras blooming for spring.
A shade of yellow, paint with blue
Blemishes the canvass, all in crude
Creativity in the lazy sky
Dulled in myriad etches drawn
Fields of hope now ascending
God given blessings bestowed
Heaven's a bliss to behold
In the artist's loving hand
Jaded with clues after clues
Keen on its every detail
Life time's own redemption
Memoirs upon the final touch
Nature's guise to reach heights
Oils and pastels combined
Portrait hung with grace
Quite breezing one's mind
Racing deep to the bosom
Sunflowers waving its mother sun
Thistles whispering sweet goodbyes
Utopia on the majestic moon
Wonders of an impressive grade, like
Xylophones synced in harmony
Yesterday's today an understatement
Zephyr stirred within every stroke.
I spy, a feather beauty bright
With speckled blush on breast
Basking within the thicket light
Dancing round about her tiny branch
Your fluttering sight beholding
Within the snowy briar
Bathing among the warmth
Of the morning's golden glory
Its brilliance your own crown of halo
Like a sunburst that swallows
Up the end of February's sigh
As other feathers flusters zoom right by
The ginger little fellows all dappled, scramble
A merry-go-round within a flight
Threading joyous song throughout your bramble
As further flocks of scurry, hurry fly
On parade teasing wings of faerie sprites
A musical path of crisscross kites
But, you little one are the daring, bursting forth
With higher operatic songs, to startle and scold those spry
Feather beauty bravely
Upon your perch chest thrust out boldly
Nonsense rhymes and a new found might
Chase away the imps of finch and thrush
And keep yourself the sunbeams for its light
And bask yourself once more this time
Among the drops of melting dripping snow
And gather up all tis full
Feasting here, where the wild wild berries grow
But, in the end you are their kin
And soon, my fairy feathered friend you too must go
Out, onto twittering leafy stemmy stem and off...
Into the yonder of the coming spring to rove
I do not know?
My Madness, Me...
Confined by this straight-jacket,
strapped in, numb and dumbed,
a washed-out, has-been, also-ran,
body, eyes, the equilibrium of mind,
rattling like stones in an old tin-can.
Still, I am,
and I am unchained,
my dreams taking flight, soaring,
above these claustrophobic walls,
of synapses, and dungeons of stone,
swooping through green valleys,
taking a detour to savour the joys,
soaked in torrential, evergreen memories,
of a younger man, with passion in his bone.
My wings unclipped, unshackled, free,
I am, and though I am unable to see,
At long last,
Birds scatter in the air
as they head back to their nests
Rivers begin to create
beautiful circular waves
The smell of rain
fills the air once more,
as droplets of rain come
down to embrace the ground
The jungle is alive again
in the endless rhythm created
by raindrops and the earth
Early I came alive this spring morning,
Shorter was last night, I realize
Gone were those hours of darkness
It’s time for the novice to arise
Looked on the nature with panoramic view
Spread was the greenery around,
In the palms of picturesque mist
The season of spring could be found
Rambled alone along the street,
Vacant was the boulevard
The silence of human kind,
Invoked in me a fanatical bard
Impaled by a ray of sun,
The universe was set to brighten
And in the universe of me,
Was set the soul to lighten
time in time on time
second by second over high noon
our spring to spring of moon
Bright blue skies on a spring day
Fulfills my horizon
Blue birds and robins pass me by
Mountain, trees, and animals
Priase God Abroad
The frsh air bring forth calmness
A quiet serene a waits my soul
Red orange and violets
Represents God's glory
Flowers slowly rise with the sun
And water crickets sings songs of glory
Fresh water arises with the scent
Of of sweet savory of God's spices
Beach rolls in the lazy tide
I sit back and enjoy it all
The art of spring is glorification
Of all tings God created
He's the world famous artist
IF JESUS ASKS
Dew on the grass
Wants to disappear
As a day wakes up
Frightened by the red eyes of sun.
Again all those men
Will remain tireless
For some more hours.
Sharp arrows from their mind
Distance on the earth,
Boundary of the of universe,
Pride of stars being alone,
Even the game fate plays.
But today’s day is tired.
That green tree
Standing naked in a landscape
Sunbath during winter,
Play with wind on stormy days,
A born again make up
As spring bade good bye,
Or get drenched in rain
Like a farmer’s son.
Old days have enjoyed them all.
That green tree
No more there,
City’s claw has removed,
Roots of its existence.
Is it only that lonely tree
Has been killed by city life!
Did not you see the tears of ocean!
Like a beloved lady
Wanted to wipe out
All weariness of humankind.
And in exchange
Modern life poisoned her heart
With all its senselessness.
When the day,
Wants to hide her face,
Men are still preying,
What else is remaining?
What else is faraway?
When daylight disappears,
Now penguin’s blood is our subject matter.
Or if this world becomes a bomb in fire
Then we shall hire
Our extraterritorial neighbor
To settle us in space shuttle,
Above the earth atmosphere.
So, the day unwilling to wake up any more.
Only the red eye of sun wakes her up.
Remember how morning birds
Use to sing melodies,
To wake her up.
All that resonance is missing,
As dew fell from leaves to leaves.
Glorious smile of shining water drops
On a lotus leaf
Cry alone now.
Misses how pleasant was twilight’s tune.
In today’s day
Who is there has time for them all.
But every year
There are seminars
Those entire glorious chapters
Sun, moon, even heaven is not too far.
And many more
All are in the memory of a computer.
But today’s day
Redeye of sun wakes her up.
Are men no more sacred now!
May be like polluted water,
As sacred from holy Ganga river.
So one day,
Jesus asks to the heart of mankind,
You have achieved so much,
Your glorious days are here,
Then why you still keep me crucified!
For how many centuries
Shall I remain!
Human child knows age-old answer
‘Its your greatness
To remain there,
So we worship!’
Only red eyes of sun
Wakes another day up.
A day -
No dew falling on her lap.
A poem by GOUTAM HAZRA
Droplets of rain
fall on Earth,
to come to Life
before my eyes!
Trees sway from left
to right with joy!
The ground smells
of fertility once more!
The air smells of rejuvenation
around me like before!
Rivers gain strength
and eagerly flow downwards
to become waterfalls!
Opening my mouth wide,
I taste blessings in the form
of pure droplets of water!
Once more Mother Earth
kisses the rain!
Leaves are soaking wet
from the ice that is thawing.The Sun is slowly
waking up from its hibernation. Snow flakes
are vanishing one by one; after spring's visit, umbrellas,
raincoats, and lovers kissing in the rain,
has made snowflakes to seem as though their existence
is a fairytale.
The ground that was once filled with ice, like icing put
on a cake, now is green with life,
with some rainbow colors from birds, butterflies, and flowers.
From a bird's eye-view, the land looks
like an explosion of a big bang of color.
Her eyes gazing at the raindrops,
as they create patterns outside the window;
she follows the patterns, and get destructed
when another pattern forms over them;
she wonders whether that's how love is;
something you cannot make a pattern of- flaming
in caresses and kisses, and the next minute tears
patrolled by magnified dragonfly schematics
quivering silvers, rippled submarines
enlightened black magic
black dawn hawk borne of ashes
manifested in tragedy then smashes
smithereens flit to unison
babe on the nipple fades blue, leaves an only son
falls on the roots, sap his tipple
overboard on the beech seeking tetragrammaton.
instant pan-global sepia scope
your skull is an hourglass
and sand teems down the slopes
visions of Egypt are gridlocked
so you sneeze just to cope
but the issues weep at you, your emotions elope
with tryptaminical spellboundancy
Winter wanes....and thoughts of you spring anew
For Dane Ann,
I smile, thinking of your anticipation
of the upcoming Spring Art Tour season!
Your art is only matched by your big heart!