Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Terry O'Leary Jun 2015
Someday I'd like to wander free
like butterfly, like bumblebee,
perhaps to plant a willow tree
beside the silent solemn sea,

before these things exist no more,
from mountain top to shifting shore,
when, soon, bald eagles cease to soar
and build their aeries nevermore,

and fish forsake polluted streams
(where sulfur swims and typhoid teems
since no one really cares it seems)
to die inside our toxic dreams
while ice caps melt and winter steams,

and all the air surrounding reeks
as children choke, for no one speaks
of fracking wells or oily leaks
(Big Brother's silenced all critiques!),

and rancid rains acidify
so woods no longer multiply
(for God so wills, we can't deny,
which is, of course, our alibi).

And as the deepest ocean fills
with plastic bags, and garbage spills
upon the plains, across the hills
and turns to poison dust that kills
wild dingo dogs and daffodils
which sink in swamps’ forsaken swills,

the mocking bird makes light and trills
(midst waning wails of whippoorwills)
"Behold the surreal scene that chills
and greet the dread that death distills!
You've had your day with all the frills
that brought the flood and final ills
that can't be cured with bitter pills
nor yet undone with further thrills
of profit gained that grinds and fills
dead desert sands with dollar bills."

              EPILOGUE

Though swaddled still in infancy,
we feel we’ve reached our primacy
(aloof, though preaching piously,
disdaining deeds of decency)
and have no need of augury.

But in the pit of prophecy
the crucial questions seem to be:

“Is doom Earth’s fate, our destiny
to twist in tides of agony
destroying nature’s progeny
with no return a certainty
assured by death’s finality?”

and

        ”Should we plant a willow tree
to someday weep for you and me?”
Brody Blue Aug 2017
High on the mountain,
I’m all alone,
Sittin’ by the river,
Water splashin’ on the stones;
As mornin’ fills the valley
Where before, the night was hung,
I wake up from the wine
But the pines block-out the sun

And the rain ain’t pleasin’,
And the cold is on the ground,
And strung-out on the byways
All the highwaymen stand round;
And above the crooked timber,
All the whippoorwills fly blue,
And they sing a song so lonesome,
Can’t you hear it comin’ thru?

Or did you decide
That you’ve gone deaf and blind
And I’ve been on the job so long
Who knows if I’ll survive, you just sigh,
As I wonder why I keep on
Tryin’ to get to you;
it’s no use…

There at your window,
Leanin’ on the ledge,
Y’got ‘em tryin’ to beat the blade
With a nine-pound sledge;
Y’got ‘em workin’ on a building,
Ev’ry carpenter in town;
Well if I had it my way
I would tear that building down

But it won’t get done
All I could ever win’s been won;
And I’ve been on the job so long
Who knows if I’ll survive, you won’t cry,
But will you try, if I die
While tryin’ to get to you, to
Bury Me in Georgia
Next to you

After all that I’ve been had
You’d think that I’d go mad,
But my anticipation
Outweighs my lack of patience;
‘Cause I’ve been on the job so long
Who knows if I’ll survive, so
Bury Me in Georgia
Next to you
A song about peaches
Halie Harris Sep 2011
wind in the willows and the hollow tree's maw
the howl and the moan, chattered whippoorwill song
golden leaves crumble into golden leaf dust
withered willow creaks and sways however it may,
dancing to demented beat from perverse piper's pipe.

The moon is gone hiding not present on stage
of this eerie queer setting in this most uncanny scene
hark, come in the calling owls
sing harsh the shadow come by bleating of night's drum
a hit come dark, a hit pitch shadow cast on the land.

Owls call who, call who to none there
crickets screech a symphony with wicked leg's sliding
horned incessant toads boom tenor through the night.

Come twilight, come dawn
the moon is chased from clouds to the horizon it returns.
come 'gain the whippoorwills with strange and deviant song
come now the shady crows to join and gibe along.

When light comes now through purple veil of dark and mal' cast
cascades the sun through horrid mask; the sky a great cloud
a swirling pool, a terrific mass, a great storm of poison,
can't run for fear for end is near
solace in light is naught,there is no savior from the tempest.

The night was prologue enough, now day will be pure no longer
the nymph of sun ***** in taint of wicked shadow's hand
now alone evil and mal' shall stand.

So come the crows, come the raven
sing a devil's tune with the chitter of the chattering birds
sway now the willow, howl the wind and moan along
laugh the maws gaped of the trees
whirl the wind, wither and crumble the plants; now gone.
dance and sing and cry as one, symphony
symphony fade to whisper... whisper fade to dust...
Come walk along the cliffs of uncertainty
While you search for something delightfully new
There wrapped in an air of wondrous mystery you will find
Where your imagination can take you too

Softly cling to the shadows of infinity
Tenuously locked away in an unpredictable hue
Lost forever in a world that you can create
As you wander away with the moon

Radiantly shining like a bead of clear water
Such as a taste of the morning’s first dew
You can come away to this world and discover
How you can become a part of this too

Multi-colored butterflies will be dancing in the forest
Where the whippoorwills sing to the trees
In voices that light up the air so sweet
Like golden honey stolen from the hives of bees
  
Here the untamed sea can be seen forever
Stretching endlessly across it seems
And you can ride the crashing waves of ivory foam
While gliding on a current of dreams

The winds incessant voice will ring right through you
Whispering of the magical things to be seen
When you come away to this fair land of Eden
One must be prepared for most anything
Copyright *Neva Flores @2010
www.changefulstorm.blogspot.com
www.stumbleupon.com/stumbler/HerVigil
Marshal Gebbie May 2011
A line of trees in massive form
Encroach along a ridge of stone,
Gnarled, bent and weather worn
Their clinging roots call granite home.
This ancient wood has weathered time
Felt the freezing gales of snow,
Has witnessed birth and death by day
Through life's kaleidoscopic show.

Oh the stories they can tell
When sunshine in the heavens ,warm,
When rivers run in merry tune
And safflower honey bees do swarm.
Oh the stories they can tell
When fillies kicked their heels in grass,
When whippoorwills did sing their song
And rampant stallions vied for class.

Oh the stories they can tell
When ancient armies trod this way
When clashing steel rang loud and clear
And good blood flowed in battle fray.
Oh the stories they can tell
When faceless horsemen galloped by,
The stench of putrid fear's lament
When populations bled to die.

Oh the stories they can tell
Of mountain peaks succumbed to fire,
Where ash removed the very sun
And panicked people fled the dire.
Oh the stories they can tell
Of black and white and good and bad
....But immaterial, perhaps, to trees
Who root in rock and seem so sad.


Marshalg
Taranaki dreamin'
26 May 2011
C Jun 2011
In the nebulous dark
a train rumbles distantly
in seconds a whistle blows
and later as quiet settles back
the whippoorwills call
as if in belated answer
while crickets rustle amid the grass
in the lukewarm tranquility of morning.
The earth,
moves with eluviate grace.
The baby,
weeps lonely with tears sparkling
on a weak wobbling chin,
and me,
I just hold my bones still and quiet.
The poet,
he tells me to shake the dust off,
but I take every moment I can
to let the dust settle evenly
in fine layers across coarse body hair
and sun reddened skin.
I take solace in moments where
the almost constant clarity is lost-  
adrift in the absolute essence of silence.  
Detached,
the field of time is shown to be relative
to velocity,
to gravity, and-
to how far away I am from you.
When the time comes
I will leave you
locked in the closets
of your heart

There will be no words
of consolations
No letters left upon the desk
inked with my explanations

I am sure it will be the dark of night
when whippoorwills do call
For they cry into the dark
but nothing replies at all

By the time the sun stumbles in
And you reach for the sky and yawn
The dew will cover the grass but there will be no footsteps left upon the lawn

What happens after that I really
don't want to know
I will be hitchhiking down the road
keeping it on the low

Don't blame yourself for my failures
It was just that I ran out of time
And my feet were really telling me
they were sick of all my lying

So goodbye , farewell , Godspeed ,
live long and I hope that you prosper
It's time to end the intimations
and all the pain I cause her
Marian Mar 2014
We were lying on the ground
Listening to the sound of driftwood
Cascading in the turquoise river
Taking in the beauty of the stars
While an orchestra of whippoorwills
And katydids sung the birds to sleep
We listened as the owls hooted in the darkness
And tree frogs warned us that spring is here
The beauty of that spring night
The softness of that tender grass
Like a pillow against my head
The fragrance of dewy lavender
Still lingers with me in my mind
Creating such a pleasant scene
As soothing as music to the soul
Creating such beautiful dreams
That dance inside my head at night

*~Marian~
Just Another Random Poem!!! :P ~~~~~<3
Hope You All Enjoy It!! (: ~~~<3
She opines a parable of the heart of Appalachia , wooden instrument , with goose quill adding song to the immense beauty of this great land , familiar as the cry of whippoorwills at dusk is the dulcimer ,
captivating , raw emotional purveyor of mountain folklore ........
Copyright October 1 , 2015 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
Marian Mar 2013
Part I  

Cicadas and katydids
Sing from the branches of the lilac bush
And whippoorwills call
From the lacy green weeping willow tassels

And fragrant buds unfurl their petals
While owls hoot to each other
And the Moon looks silently on
While Fairies dance and sing

And I watch the Fairies dance
On the enchanted Moonlit Forest path
And as they dance they sing their enchanting lullaby
And hush the whole world to sleep with a sweet "goodnight"

*
~Marian~
All the beauty belongs to you
and all the makings
of the whole universe
your eyes hold true beauty
I have ever seen
starting with your love for all of us
you given Life to dust of a living
The sun that glint in heavens
that beams down on the world
of your love sent for us
I've seen the seven wonders
of the world
the seas that hold many dreams
nothing like this I have ever seen
The love you hold for me
in my own heart
makes me hold on even longer
when life gets too much for me
to bear in a world that isn't fair
In the light of day
you shine your words of hope
in my eyes that shines so bright
you are the candle
that burns deep into a nasty storm
I've seen the beauty of diamonds and pearls
But they hold nothing to you
the love you give me
had put my spirit on easy
Your love amazing this anyone could see
every enchanted hours
you given me a dance in rain showers
the years is like a new page
holding words of ancient times
that burns down into my soul
words of long ago
lets me see what it is you hold
The sun shall glint its gold
far upon on the seas
upon the land where we all stand
birds will fly on high
deep into the big blue sky
on green valley's will stand the lilies
the Mediterranean Sea
is comfortable with the rushing winds
the waves will move along
like an old ancient song
that plays on
the love of the rain
showers the land in spring
cloudy days of winter
will see the rainbow of colors
the moon gives out its love
to the sea to shines its light
for the ships to sail
so beautifully  
I've seen a sunset
that make me cry
the beauty has touched my eyes
your love touches the sky
all the colors of a rainbow reaching '
across the Sea so beautifully
the breeze of the misty wind
blowing the leaves of autumn
  in all phases of Life
shines a star from far
deep into humans hearts
Your love amazes me
in all my waking hours
My heart shall thrill at break off Dawn
to the meadow larks
at dusk to whippoorwills shades over
me like a dream
I could never doubt your love
I hold your beauty in my eyes
You give me hope,
you give me reason in all seasons
you  given me a love I can believe in
forever faithfully I am yours
your love amazes me
I've prayed for miracles
that never came in darken dreams
I got down on my knees
in the pouring rain
asking in faith for your Light to shine
in my darkest hours
you are my highest tower
you are the candle in my window
that shines deep into my eyes
Your true love had always be with me
even in darken dreams  .
  
Poetic Lilly Judy Emery (C)
I strolled among lavendills
in the pithy piney plodding hills
bearing the brunt of burdensome *******
as I garnished  grins of whippoorwills.

On a plateau-ish plain  of prickly peet
I felt the bog beneath my feet
tickling my toes with ****** tainted thorns,
I remembered gnarling days, and stood forlorn.

Pickled poesy pomagroups
foretold of future ladle scoops
in caligrating loop the loops in styles
reminding me of marching troops.

In shifting shylock shapes of time
with ripping radishes of rhyme
I began my daring dew descent
to the lowly muppet mugging climes.

When, on sordid stony steppes I stood,
amid the brash and boorish wood,
wenting where I was, I brought
a hinting hackle pang of good.
Keith W Fletcher Jun 2016
Sleepless night
Insomniatic overlay
Dressed
Coffee in hand
Outside... Listening
As nature announces
The arrival
Of a brand new day
The night birds clear shrill
Accentuating
The whippoorwills petal soft coo
Tree frogs keeping rhythm
While the skyline
Gently eases down
The blackness
With the gentlest of pastel blue
From far far away
Comes the hoarse throated honking
Of a quickly approaching goose
Announcing it was coming through
No mistaken.
I did believe
The Happy song they are always making
Until that moment
As daylight broke the night
With the sudden crack of dawn
To my surprise this traveling troubadour
Singing as it went winging by
Turning out to be a swan
Meting out a greeting
Hello Hello Hello
Continuing to fly
While off in the waning distance
Fading with a sad persistence
Diminishing
The swan song ...finishing
With a distant cry
goodbye... goodbye.... goodbye
wordvango Jul 2014
Sunshine sprouts
           sky dreams
irrepressibly carefree...

floated flutterbys
          whippoorwills sang
on equitable vistas evergreen

and...I believed!
          I had seen!
Rainwater is pooling on Panola Mountain tonight , plants are rooting
atop her granite escarpments , Bucks are foraging across the lowlands ,
a crescent Moon will become visible as the storm moves Eastward ....
Couples will fall in love tomorrow across the lawn , family reunions and carefree children will run and laugh in the park ... Herons forage to the cacophony of bullfrogs , insects , whippoorwills and owls .. Alexander Lake on this night mirrors a million stars , turtle doves will sound the call to morning , turkey hens will echo across her plentiful moors ...
Copyright February 16 , 2016 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
Lantern flies descending from Water Oak canopies , hopeful Thrushes cry for Heavens hidden stellary
A seemingly placid pond becomes Molasses , quivers and grows eerie in wavering moonshine , Whippoorwills relay songs of the Creek Indian nighttime
Katydids , Field Crickets and Barn Owls fill Magnolia , Wilkerson Mill promenades , Shellcracker disquiet the countryside with topwater
explosions of hunger and predation* ...
Copyright May 30 , 2016 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
I thought of May briefly with her clay vases of portulaca ever spreading
Cut grass lending fair fragrance to
daydreams , bare feet treading cold , hidden
streams
The call and answer of whippoorwills
Evening Whitetails gracing green clover hills
To lie mure in evergreens
Swaddled in piedmont fantasy*..
Copyright December 12 , 2016 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
Carolynn draws a picnic scene on a frosted window
Spring kites untethered and sailing , the hope of winter rainbows
Of curled leaves navigating blue lakes
Of afternoon snowflakes , the call of mandrakes
The mystical smoke of garden bonfires weighing heavy
o'er broomsage meadows
Of whippoorwills that announce the coming of night , the birth of new stars in sparkling January sky* ..
Copyright January 24 , 2017 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
Quiet evening on the porch . Explosions in the distance , the  soldiers are getting small , incoming ! Attention subjugated from intense light to the west ! It's storming in Alabama tonight ! I'm sure it is ! The insects , mesmerized by porch light , are growing in numbers , catapulted East by violent winds , the prequel to our own battle with Thor and his army ! An entire Division , preceded by artillery , wave after wave ! Refugees have flooded the screen in rear combat operations tonight , confused , terrified faces are flashing before my very eyes ! Sergeants are screaming commands on both sides of the road as the skirmish recedes !  Rain ... Puddles .. At six a.m. as the fog begins to lift , siren of whippoorwills , ambulances rush forward to gather the dead , the toy soldiers have bled all they can ..Their really just plastic anyway ! Play things , hallucinations , flashbacks , whatever word conjures , terminates repetitive mind games , conflict witnessed many years ago , committed to endless replay , delivered by a Summer storm from Alabama last night !
Copyright October 10 , 2015 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
Green Coleman lanterns hung over the water , craving the humid night , nocturnal creatures bathed in the artificial lights ....
The metronomic crash of breakers on the aluminum hulled vessel , baiting hooks and tying gear by flashlight or sheer memory .. Horned Owls , Killdeer and Whippoorwills filled the dark night with haunting songs , the crash of bass and topwater shellcrackers would chill the blood for a moment , cause you to breathe in deep  , exhale out loud .... The aroma of lake water , insect repellent and cigar smoke , chewing on a plug of Bloodhound , strained eyes concentrating on nothing but that bobber , waiting on that tasty fish to take it and run ....
Working your piece of the lake till the early morning Sun ....
Copyright February 21 , 2016 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
Slabs are slang for Black Crappie fish ... Very popular in the South and very tasty as well ..
Tate Morgan May 2014
I would give to you my smile
that sauntered look and walk
A long mellow daydreamed breeze
that cute look each time we talk

I would give to you the sunshine
a kind windy sun flowered field
Hopes to fill your hearts desire
with any dream your mind could wield

I would give to you the warm rain
sweet songs the whippoorwills sing
The eternal stars of the night
for you I would give everything

Tate
It is always the inner hope striven for throughout our lives that at one time our dreams will intersect with our reality. Such has been my own experience these last 4 years. A life spent alongside the one you love gives the meaning and purpose so sought for and desired. Happy Anniversary Becky!
Tate
http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/aristate/1067849/
The thunder of freight cars traveling through Palmetto , heading North to Atlanta at the five o'clock hour . A silver contrail underscores Venus , jet airplanes in every direction . Golden Pines as far as the eye can see , stately Oaks , steely Pecans and ravishing Maples .. A frozen Buck at the wood line surveys his next move , the last remaining geese reveal their presence , then bid adieu .. They travel South tonight by the light of a mischievous Moon at tree top level , off to points South beneath the Western horizon ...
Whippoorwills begin their familiar call , a Barn owl takes the stage with its haunting song ..
Copyright December 4 , 2015 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
Cool April night deception
Rickety , southern hamlets become -
moonlit Chamber of Commerce photos ,
cornfields turn into backdrops for -
science fiction TV shows
Townsfolk walking to their mailboxes -
become rumors of mystery and intrigue
Old Bloodhound porch dogs are as sleepy as ever
Shooting stars zoom overhead , the last train of the
evening flies by , the whippoorwills lullaby
All is quite normal , and well tonight ...
Copyright April 25 , 2916 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
Lightning , stars and muscadine wine
Counting 'Angels Fire ' by increasing moonlight
Rain cooled midnight , lonely , solo whippoorwills ,
fresh cut hayfields
Coyote calls , crying for the morn
Nervous new acquaintances , be of free will
and let your love soar ...
Copyright April 6 , 2016 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
One cheery Mockingbird spicing the May night doldrums , Two tree frogs chime in on cue with three Whippoorwills rounding out the chorus
Four Cicadas , Five Field Crickets , Six Barn Owls and Seven singing Katydids
Eight Killdeer in harmony with Nine Coyotes
Ten Bullfrogs rocking the pond as Mockingbird number
two comes calling
Copyright May 13 , 2016 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
Enchanted Hours With You

All beauty shall be mine today
for one enchanted hour,
I'd like to write about happy things
like how the clouds love the rain ,
the birds love to sing in the spring morning ,

A loving glance at summers romance
But even if I'd known such things I will
still dance in the winter rain;
It's simple and it's my love that gives
me the look that everyone loves on me,

All beauty is mine today;
for one enchanted hour with you,
the sun shines with glean in the morning
view of me and you,

For when I'm hurt, or in a mood of crying
rain, even the trees and flowers come out
In the rain, Sometime I shut myself away
I'm furiously writing way with lovers pains when
you had to go on your way,

It's impossible to hide what I feel,
It’s you that can reveal what I feel even dancing
in the rain at break of dawn to meadowlarks,
at dusk to whippoorwills,

Now I am jealous of spring's rain because our
Love is lost in it , This love is full of your charms
When you were holding me in your love;

I would never share this love with no other
then you, so, see I have left you this note for
only you to read and hold ,my short hours with
you are like a beautiful love song of spring.

Poetic Judy Emery © 1980
Sometimes the sound of crickets late at night are tiny tears shed over a love gone bad ... The whippoorwills seem o' so very sad ...
Stars are searching for love and their place in the world ...
Bullfrogs are sharing my pain with the cry of a Barn Owl ...
Wind whispered rejection at midnight grows o' so painfully loud .. Sometimes .....
Copyright February 19 , 2016 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
Riparian whippoorwills became martyrs to the crystalline
lakeside at Dawn
My reflection grew long in placid waters
Nellie sunshine forsook the chill of morning
I became an artist without need of brush or manmade color
Painting the precipice of Heaven with each determined view*....
Copyright July 12 , 2016 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
Let's sit in the yard and watch the heat lightning off to our West ...
Why don't we sip on Margaritas and look for constellations in the night
like two young newlyweds once did
Watch the fireflies from the front stoop , listen out for whippoorwills and tree frogs , watch the airplanes fly by and try to figure out where their going to or coming from
Shoot caution to the wind as they say and just stare at the Moon for awhile , ride the crest of June , pick a few songs on the guitar ...
Grab two blankets and that old portable radio , hunt for shooting stars
and do something fun , relive 1979 and for God's sake be young once more* ..
Copyright March 7 , 2016 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
The dirge of Whippoorwills along the riverbanks
Lapping dark waters onto Cattail shores , Carp
roll topside o'er the shadowed montage , the final
hour of Summer Sun
Natures many musicians proclaim the star rise  
Mayflies dance the surface like silver kites
Black , blue and orange yesterdays , night breeze
touch of Fall August ways
Oak , Maple silhouettes with calling Dove
Yearning for home* .....
Copyright August 5 , 2016 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
Whippoorwills and high flying airplanes
Church bells and eastbound trains
Cattle moving throughout the night
Killdeer songs in the morning light
A Postman waves while making his round
A buck at the hedgerow , a diesel plow
Shimmering fields , dancing oaks
Burning hickory , field smoke
Black coffee , a stack o' wheats
Frosted windows and strick-o-lean* ...
Copyright October 12 , 2017 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
I've music outside my door
Emotional tones that touch the soul
Symphonies of light and song ,
piedmont melodies to mull over ,
heavenly voices resonating o'er fields of
purple clover
Nights filled with the wonder of Lady November
Starlight , evening tinsel , a bold harvest Moon at the tip of tall Loblolly's to fondly remember
I've whippoorwills calling day to close
The smoldering leaves of Autumn to tickle my nose
A sturdy rocker , black coffee and dove call
Twilight miracles that lend faith and enthrall* ..
Copyright November 10 , 2016 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
Coleman M Lowe Jul 2020
Nothing is as lonesome as the night.

The stars are burning dim,
As the whippoorwill calls,
From the shadowy twilight's gloom.

A tear streaks my face,
As his call tears at my heart.
And the weight of the moonlight presses,
Me on down onto the earth.

I cry out for help,
With a voice that makes no sound.

The weight of the world,
Keeps me pressed to the ground.

The crickets chirp, and the tree frogs sing.
And above it all,
I hear ,
The whippoorwills,
Plaintive call.
nightime is a lonesome time even if you have someone much less if you are alone
Such a remarkable day
Throw a stone into a pond
and watch it slip away
Put a finger on the sun then
highlight the world
Take in a performance of
backyard , native birds
Read a poem 'neath the firs
Yellow bells , daffodils , nature stills
The swell of cascading streams ,
misty dales , the lambs of Spring , the nightingales ,
the whippoorwills , buck dwellings , new growth
stands , broomsage pastured farm lands
Tis a remarkable day
Catch a sailing leaf
Let it carry you away* ...
Copyright March 4 , 2017 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved

— The End —