Significance, winter, November, unfold, union, bay, seemly, sky

Significance, winter, November, unfold, union, bay, seemly, sky

Winter grey has set in
And its November 7th
The skies are too light to early
They are merely and extension of this grey
Upon my rising
The bay is grey the sky and its meeting are one
They are a union
Announcing
Significance
A statement of fullness
It is the linger of these many long months
As they unfold
First fall
Honoring us with its ways of
Offering difference, warm to cold days
Rain
Ice

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poem by Dhrama Barbara Rose Guada
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A dance with Chopin

i hate it when they mangle your
bubbling notes at hotel lobby
cafe, and parks when you have to
give way to the staccatos of stilettos,
tinkering of glasses, chatterings and slurpings
of japanese on their steamy noodles
or two italian men loud about their just
concluded summer holidays
it is like drinking tea with a mix of whisky

you are finest at the break of dawn
as scintillating streams of sunshine
and piano notes work hand in hand
to tune up the day with a good allowance
of morning mist touching up your favourite
bed of roses the soft breeze lifting ever so wildly
the strands of hair over your forehead they
move like your fingers a maestro over the ivory bars
the music drives us wanting for more as the day
dawn crisp and clear to spill all its goodness

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poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Summer And A Dog

Summer and a Dog

Pure sunlight on a forever blue sky, wasn’t there s a song by
Cliff Richard about “Happy Summer Holiday? ” Beaches full of
laughing people. Yes, I remember it well. Out of the sun glare
came an emaciated dog, lost, it must have walked for weeks,
but in the summer light no one had seen it. Near the houses it
collapsed under a bush, I brought some water, left it alone.
When the shadows got longer I brought food for it too, but
it didn’t need food anymore. The villagers came, no, no one
had seen this dog; an untold suffering had come to an end.
Wrapped the dog in a plastic bag, put it in the bin by the road.
The sun was blood orange now and shadows so deep that we
could see again. Too much sunlight is blinding.

poem by Oskar Hansen
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Perfect Summer Holiday

To strole and do it my way
Will make a perfect summer holiday,
As you walk two steps forward and one step back
On dream time beach speed you sure will lack,

After all that effort lay on the golden sand
Then think ain’t all this grand,
View the expanse of the deep blue yonder sky
To watch the seagulls call and just fly by,

Now close your eyes and your mind do not vex
Just hum a tune and wonder what not to do next.
These my friends are only facts,
On how to really just relax!

poem by Ken e Hall
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A Fun of September!

End of summer
And beginning of winter
Is September!

Sand melting heat
And sand wetting rain
Occur in September!

Full grown fruits
And fully blossomed flowers
You see in September!

Heat in the morning
And rain in evening and night
Town gets in September!

Summer holiday ends
And all festivals begin now on
From September on!

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poem by Ramesh T A
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Summer Vacation Love (narrated)

Her gentle embrace as she held you near
And her soft gentle words as her eyes began to tear
I love you more than you’ll ever know
But it’s time that I must go.
This is just a summer fling, and I know you
Want to do your thing.
I enjoyed the sun filled days, and the moonlit nights.
But we can’t see eye to eye, and then we begin to fight.
You say that you love me, and I believe that it’s true.
But I won’t settle! What about you?
This summer vacation is nearing the end
And we both want to be with family and friends.
So let us walk away from each other
Till we see each other again.

He said: I know you think that this can’t last
But let us forget about the past.
Let us start this relation anew, for now I know
Just what I have to do.
I must bend and change my ways

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poem by Louis Rams
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Summer Holiday at the World End

if always choose the right answer, life guaranteed prosper
impossible
we don't know something's right or wrong before choosing it
we choose something not because it's 'right'
but because we want to choose it
it's not problem if fail
as long as we decide it by ourselves
look at the sea in the last day of summer holiday
passing time happily
with the feeling something going to end
joyful moments that we hope will last long
summer will repeat again till the end of the earth
but my chance to see it must be limited
so, I just can look forward
the one who decide it right or wrong is the future me
such a waste if we spoil it with doubt
because human can not stop the time

from C.M.B.

poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Joint At Deathbed

I smoked a joint
at my granddad’s deathbed.
In the living room of
childhood memories
Inhaling and Exhaling
blue plumes of smoke
Hours before he
drew HIS
last breath.

And
sitting at his deathbed.
as the grandfather clock struck
and the streetlamp outside the window
was turned on
and later off
I made my peace with God
and all consuming time

I smoked a joint

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poem by Carsten Thomsen
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Family Homes

everybody's mother is beautiful and brave
but my mother was little bit different
And was at the top of them
she was the bravest...the most beautiful..and the cleverest
we lived in a house
a very very ancient an and old house
ı ts plaster worn out and falling down
once a big and beautiful of our nomad ancestors
the camels of the long caravans used to rest in its garden
now the rooms of the house is rented to families in poverty
the kitchen...and laundry and washing were common for all
there was a in wall cupboard for bath in every room
in one of this rooms upstairs we lived
my mother..my brother and me
hiring it
they called these rooms faqmiliy homes
in turkish
in our homeland in turkey
in one of these rooms
lived shoe maker...rather a cobbler

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poem by Metin Sahin
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Summer Is Nearly Over

Our long, hot summer is sadly nearly over.
No more will we see the daisy or the clover.
The leaves have already begun to fall from the trees.
No longer will the summer flowers attract busy bees.

For dinner, we’ll be cooking hearty casseroles,
To warm through our poor, cold, shivering souls.
We’ll soon be experiencing many a misty morn,
When pretty little dew-drops crystallize the lawns.

In shop windows, mannequins wear browns and greys;
Reflecting the forthcoming grey and gloomy winter days.
We’ll be dead-heading the once pretty summer flowers.
And huddle under umbrellas against the wintry showers.

About leaves on the train lines, we’ll soon have to worry,
And the wrong kind of snow will slow down those in a hurry.
Students will soon return to University, college and school,
As the weather changes from being very hot to decidedly cool.

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poem by Angela Wybrow
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Acronymn on Homeschooling

H is for homework - You can never really escape that!
O is for open mindedness - If you open your mind, you will have a teachable spirit, and after a teachable spirit, follows wisdom and understanding.
M is for memories - Cherish them wholly, and they will never depart from you.
E is for education - No matter how old one may get, he never ceases learning.
S is for summer vacation - I'll say, 'Amen' to that!
c is for Catching a nap when your teacher isnt looking - Kids, don't do this! Its not worth it.
H is for helping hands - helping hands hold within their grasp the power to change the world for the better good.
O is for on time - Unfortunately, there is really no great excuse for being late.
O is for opportunity - Seize the moment! For you were born for such a time as this.
L is for lessons of life - Do not let you past wheigh you down. Instead, learn from it, and lift your face towards the bright future that lies just ahead of you!
I is for Iowa - this is just ONE of the 50 states that a student must memorize.
N is for never giving up - no matterwhat.
G is for greatness - celebrate your success, and work towards a better future.

poem by Macy Dvirnak
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A Joint Feeling

I did not see The Lord,
But I felt myself in front
Of His Mighty Court of Justice,
Along with numerous men,
Dressed in grey,
Like the students of olden times.
All with naked heads,
And naked feet,
They gathered in an open ground,
To account for their deeds,
Waited for their turn
For appearance before the Justice.
I had been acquainted
With a few of them,
They were potent
In public and politics,
Enjoyed themselves authority,
And high place,
By dint of wealth and estate,
But then hapless.

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poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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More Submissive

She held my hand as we climbed

The magnificent staircase of the art museum,

it was a summer holiday and we were slightly tipsy

From afternoon wine in the flower garden.

She touched my lips and spoke,

'Nothing more for you to drink,

I don't want the curator to dismiss you as a drunk

Who would fail to appreciate this sacred place

With landscapes of Delacroix and Renoir'

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poem by Uriah Hamilton
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Extreme[ly] Puzzling

Ensconced amid a disarray,
five thousand puzzle pieces spread,
Hot summer holiday in play,
waves penetrate in infrared.

Cross-legged on the lino floor,
rapt gaze and scrabbling fingertips,
Vivaldi's gelid 'Winter' score
and ice cubes cool the mind and lips.

Uncoupled marble columns roam,
pale architraves and arches swim,
Panini's ‘Views of Modern Rome'
accretes fragmentally in rim.

Full stretch, piece misapplied, retried
in equipoise on hand and knee,
Old gathering instincts satisfied,
inherited proclivity.

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poem by Diane Hine
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A Year Full Of Memories

Man begins the year after a cold Winter
And in need of hope and revival...
He welcomes the early splendour of new buds
For they serve as the heralds of new life...
Daffodils brighten up a faded garden
And therefore bless us in a spiritual way,
Just as the sight of the first butterfly...
A flitting red admiral can make us smile,
Thrill us and fill our hearts with wonder.

Summer holidays are known for children at play.
The 'orrible 'omework is finished for a while!
Outside the house is a brave new world!
The glorious garden is now a place to party!
The sunshine treasure trove starts early
And though it fades late in the evening
It still retains its welcomed warmth...

Autumn has its own treasure trove, the harvest,
Gleaned from a generous Mother Earth.

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poem by Denis Martindale
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Schooldays

If ever you think about the happiest days of your life
Cast back your mind for a while
And remember the time when you were a child.
Dont think of things that make you sad,
Just remember all the good times that you had.
Do you remember only happy days,
Full of flaming junes and summer holidays?
Or do you remember those stormy novembers
When we walked in the wind and the rain?
Schooldays were such happy days
Now they seem so far away,
I remember and Ill always treasure.
Schooldays were the happiest days of your life
But we never appreciate the good times we have
Until its too late.
I miss all the acquaintances we made
And Id go back if I could only find a way,
Schooldays were the happiest days
Though at the time they filled me with dismay.
We only remember what we choose to remember.

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song performed by Kinks
Added by Lucian Velea
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0243 The Second Coming

This first August week, the geraniums
are flowering their second flush:
they braved last winter, huddled like cabbage stalks
so as to be inconspicuous
to the meddlesome and sterile fingers of frost,

then burst into abundant life, as did the pelargoniums,
with a blatant generosity or hymn of praise as if
to prove some point we'd overlooked
about Creation.

Last week, dead-headed like a battlefield,
they fell back into themselves, exhausted,
as if they wanted a long summer holiday,
to last right through to autumn's fall;

only, this week, to bear a second coming:
yet changed: their petals paler, exquisite,
water-coloured like shells fresh from the waves,
or the most delicate painted porcelain or

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poem by Michael Shepherd
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Scrooge's Number One Fan!

What, me? On Summer holiday? Take time off, fly abroad?
Passport renewed, then on my way! Sunshine as my reward?
Romance, perhaps and clubbing late! Cocktails with umbrellas?
Find true love there, as if by fate, like a million fellas!
Suppose I stay at home instead! I'll have more cash at hand!
Why spend it while I'm on the Med? Love's magic's in each land!
Love works as well in Nottingham, in Birmingham and Bath -
Abroad it's golden glitz and glam and then you tip the staff!
I think I'd rather save my dosh for rainy days at home
Than visit Venice! Oh, my gosh! Or lose it all in Rome!
Call me a skinflint! Miser, too! Call me Ebenezer!
But Scrooge was wise, I'm telling you! Cool dude frugal geezer!
There's bound to be a babe in town to spend a few quid on...
If not, then there's no need to frown! My money won't be gone!
In my old age, when money's tight, I'll have some dosh to spare...
To pay for food, for heat and light and physiotherapy care...

poem by Denis Martindale
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Janice and You At London Bridge

It was the fourth day
since the break up
from school
for the summer vacation

and you were riding
with Janice
on the bus
to London Bridge

and she was wearing
the lemon coloured dress
you liked
that came to the knees

which were pressed
together
and the brown sandals
with the patterned holes

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poem by Terry Collett
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Oh, FATHER! - FEEL MY Untold LOVE! (Part-1)

At schooltime, my father left me at house gringo!
Yet I Kept my tender heart at home of lingo!
When I quested, for fate “he is right as rain.”
Tender tears exploded like MISSILES yet in vein;
Mother, oh mother, I am still your little son!
Father, Oh father, I love thee till I am done!

While I missed mother’s love and father’s stories
All the night I stood without sleep with many worries
I asked the god, why two legs and hands!
Why not two bodies and two souls for errands!
Mother, oh mother, I am still your little son!
Father, Oh father, I love thee till I am done!

Sugarcane Juice, peanuts and berries!
Our green fields, summer holidays and holy tours!
When thousand memories flashes in mind, now,
How much I miss mom's care! How much I miss dad’s love!
Mother, oh mother, I am still your little son!
Father, Oh father, I love thee till I am done!

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poem by Harindhar Reddy
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