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Tanay Sengupta Aug 2018
Chirping crickets, unheard whispers and a lonely street light.
For a small town, it is such a typical night.
A sweet aroma blows with the breeze,
Perhaps, coming from one of the flowers or the trees.

Red flares and moonflowers blooming under the moonlight.
Adding more grace to this beautiful night.
Peace and serenity rule in this silence,
There is no noise, there is no violence.

There are just sounds of heartbeats, deep breaths and whispers.
Just sounds of heartbeats, deep breaths and whispers.











Tanay Sengupta, Copyright © 2018.
All Rights Reserved
This is rather recent, I hope you like it. Happy reading!
Vicki Kralapp Aug 2013
Blown by a warm south wind, I sail off to sea,
that's the path it seems that life has had for me.
Adventure whispers in my ear and calls me out it seems,
and gathers me along with all my hopes and dreams.

I dream of all the trips I'll take when life is simpler still,
and I wait to walk on beaches until I have had my fill.
I gaze into the eyes of my true love who stands here by my side,
as I watch for the rising of the sun and of the morning tide.  

I hold on to the hand of this true miracle of men,
and I'll keep him in this heart of mine until the very end.
The man I speak of truly was a gift from up above,
and I cannot live without him or without his gift of love.

He came to me a stranger, then became a steadfast friend
and led me from my misery and helped my heart to mend.
He guided me with his hand to be the woman I am now
and helped me to the place that started with a vow.

Now as the trade winds ******* I cannot help but think,
of the beauty by my side and the love that doesn't sink.
When adventure calls to me and whispers in my ear,
I cannot help but hold your hand and pray that you'll be here.
All poems are copy written and sole property of Vicki Kralapp.
Lazhar Bouazzi Apr 2018
As I look back into my life
I think to myself:

"I sped when I was a boy. I sped
To out-distance time."

But now when I look at the dark-green rocks
In my neighborhood, by the trembling docks,

I say to the rocks: "I go, you stay.
You stay for the winds to breathe upon thee."

(c) LazharBouazzi
Dan Gray May 2013
I spread my arms and hands to the winds.
Willing that their touch travels with them.
Whirl into the sky
Follow the contours of land
Flowing down hills
As water flows.
Twisting.
Turning.
Taking the trail of my heart
Across this land and country.
Outrace my feelings,
Past town and village,
Down roads and rivers,
Be directed to one who is lonely
Empty and in pain.
Wrap your warm winds around her
As I would wrap my arms.
Hold her till she sighs
As I would hold her.
Let go reluctantly
As I would let go of her.
As when I’m by her side
Blow gently into her ear.
Lightly caress her neck
As my hand would caress her.
Pass on my message of love.
That I want to hold her,
Under the stars,
Until the end of time.

Dan Gray
Steven Cole Aug 2018
Some winds that blow
In the sweet summer
you know
Are soft and gentle
Like a kiss
of vibrancy and bliss
Or a breath of life
For my heart and soul
Causing me to feel alive and whole
Exhaled as a mist around my body
Setting my spirit free
Refreshing all my precious memories
Saturating them like the sea
Touching my heart like a firm handshake
Reminding me of who I am meant to be

Free
Released from the prison
Of an anxious and fretful mind
Like an eagle
Soaring and gliding
High into and through
The sky
Living above my worries
Leaving my fears behind
Letting the light from the loving sun
Dispel all darkness
Even when the day is done
B L Feb 2013
This rain keeps falling
As dry as a drought.
                       “ Rain drops heavier than water,
                          When it’s laden with doubt. ”

He said,         " The ground simply can’t hold it
                                   … So it must go without.”


This rain keeps to itself; lets no one inside -
No one to know why the ground stays so dry.
For it comes from a place where souls idly drift by -
And the same forces that create are constantly defied.

He said,       “ You’ve never known water to stain,
                         But you’ve never felt this kind of rain.
                         It’s thicker than your skin.
                         It stains your clothes and what’s within.
                         It sounds like hammers as it pounds -
                         And yet, the ground won’t let it in.

                         So it flows like a river that only gets bigger;
                         It runs like a force that knows no remorse.
                         Despite endless efforts to stop it -
                         It still runs like a faucet…
                                                         ­ With nowhere to drain. "


But if the ground holds no plants, is the water so vital?
Is the rain’s sole purpose this lifeless recital?
The ground stays so strong.
It holds fast, like pure stone
But can one stay so long when one’s so alone?
When one is forced to move,
               Will the ground or the rain?
And when the first one has gone,
               Will the other remain?


For now, they coexist,
Each facing a challenge it can’t resist -
Both unstoppable and immovable,
                              They hopelessly persist.
As compliments, they combine
                        With the product of a flood.
But the water that’s collecting
                        Has the consistency of blood.
There’s a heart behind this water.
It pulses instead of flowing.
So you turn to the only man you know,
             for parting words with danger growing.
And he says, as you leave,
                               “ I wish you luck where you are going.
                                 You’ve only seen the rain . . .
                                 The winds are not yet blowing.

elaine Sep 2018
The winds whisper to me
Keeping me from slipping away.
They blow ‘round, carrying me place to place, showing me lives of all the lovers, fighters, and loners of the world,
Showing me what it’s like to live.
They give me snippets of lives,
Distracting me from my own.
They dance with me when i am down,
And hold me up as i start to fall.
I owe the winds,
But how do i repay this inanimate friend of mine.
I'll live my life repaying you, for you have been the only friend I even need, and will ever want.
Neuvalence Apr 2018
Between the stone the moss had lay
Cries of help left there to stay
Love and joy lost in the gray
A sight of the land so haunting

The boats on shore were but a few
Huts were scattered across the view
From erosion, the sands withdrew
Not one but I had stood the ground

At this very place where I had grown
Years ago, I had willingly shown
That I too could have walked alone
To reach a place of anew

But on my journey from the sea
I heard my people’s harrowing plea
From miles away—how could it be?
Had the winds taken them away?

Now that I have come return
Time has passed and I have learned
That each life will have their turn
To be at sky's mercy
This a poem I worked on for three hours straight, but was still dissatisfied with it. Now, two weeks later, it's truly grown on me
Sylph Nov 2018
The wind weaves through the trees
Singing its unique song  
The leaves dance in the trees and on the ground
The forest creatures cant help but dance along

Soon after, the flowers start blowing
and cant resist singing along
To the Winds special song

The coolness of the wind
as it sings
Its speaks measures
It feels so Alive

Its sings so Happy and Lively
So mournful and sad
Such feelings flow through this special music

But like every song
It must end
Dont worry the wind will sing again
Maybe not Tonight
But tomorrow perhaps

You know the wind will sing soon
When everything in nature
Seems to shout for the wind too
Listen to it every now and then
Im telling you
Its beautiful
You wont regret it
The Chill from the wind will make you feel alive
it will speak to you
And sing its special song
Inspired by :https://youtu.be/FQx4cEwKD5E
Clare Coffey Mar 11
I am the warm air of spring
Heralding the time of rebirth
I caress the first shoots of growth
As they poke their way through the earth

I ponder nature’s resilience
As her landscape comes alive
I marvel at her citizens
And their will to survive

I dance over fields and rivers
Whispering to sky and sun
To all the hiding creatures
A new season has begun

I am the zephyr of summer
Come now and heed my call
Blowing sweetly from the west
The kindest wind of them all

Walk with me over hill and dale
Carpeted in joyous colour
Feeling my soft caresses
More tender than any lover

I will kiss your upturned face
Brushing it with rays of sun
Breathing warmth into your bones
Till the sunset says day is done

I am the wild gale of autumn
Stripping the leaves from the trees
Nothing withstands my fury
All bow to my desperate need

I whip the rain into torrents
Pouring water over all beneath
No quarter asked or given
I gift you the dying year’s grief

I move restlessly onwards
My dark tempests taking form
But the harvest is gathered
The bounty safe from my storms

I am the north wind of winter
Bringing the first flakes of snow
Scattering them with abandon
On the gardens and streets below

My blast is icy and chill
Freezing your toes and fingers
Sweeping away the last of the year
Not a single vestige lingers

Time for you to stay indoors
Cosying in front of the fire
Enjoying the comforts of home
Away from my insolent ire
A couple of days ago I got talking to a lovely lady about her poetry society - she invited my to go. The theme of the meeting is ‘wind’...
The Denver
International
Airport
Holds the
Key
...
And the
Doors
To the
Under
Ground
...
Hades
Hell on
Planet
Earth I
Should
Know
...
I lived
In Green
Valley
Ranch
Right next
Door
....
If you
Don't
Believe
Me
That's fine
....
Conspiracy
Stories
About
Lizard
People
Are tough
Pills to
Swallow
....
But
****
Those
Snake
Eyesss
....
https://youtu.be/62hoopKaZRY
....
Poem
And
Song
....
Bright Eyes
Marla Aug 11
The train roars past my window
every summer, June through November.
Sometimes it's a light transit,
other times it could pass for one of four riders.
The-  The things that follow such a flow
of raw power and strength, well-
Let's just say that every wind has a soul behind it.
ohellobeautiful Sep 2018
no matter how hard
these winds blow and shake me
i stay  r o o t e d  with the Earth

storms exist to awake me
one of the first few
rhymes i ever wrote
*and still my favorite*
Waynepatrick Dec 2018
Neptune's winds  come lift me
Any place but here is better,
Life me up to greater heights,
Blow all my being away,
We'll make a deal,
I will be your guest as we move from
Crest to crest,
We'll pass through the doldrums,
As our hymns we sweetly hum,
And if there should be fright,
I will cling on so tight,
In your knots I will drown,
Into the horizon we will go,
Those who gaze at use will have awe,
Further we shall proceed,
Till the memories off we get rid.
CK Baker Feb 2017
There were dividing lines
between springfield
and mariners gate
soft, subtle lines
that spoke of origin
and code
and biting union

it was all
the reason
for being;
alive and living
dead or dying
deep in a pack
of pint size resistors
hell bent on the
marsh crow
and cannabis tower
jumping the rush
with *** shots
and anchors
and tribunals

camouflage creepers
and transient floaters
marked rebellion at the gates
(skullduggery and taunt
high on their favor list)
jack straws and flat paddles
for the evening charade
beakers and flailing hands
from the foot washing baptist
(the pleasant street conservatives with their
own something to say…“there’s gonna be hell to pay!”)

there's a
lingering effect
to this sentiment
(evident in the pump house stride)
the river winds
blow gently
into the night
as the huddling packers
and **** backs
chase the evening hours

it’s a bitter sweet
end of an era;
those traction bars
hood scoops
and nickel bags
will always
be the rage
Vexren4000 Aug 2018
Lost winds blowing,
From ancient seas,
Forgotten kingdoms,
Tucked away in the trees,
A wind that carries,
The whispers of history,
Ancient knowledge,
Hidden in the subtleties of the wind,
A wind of time that blows,
Over everything.

©BAS
CK Baker Jan 2017
( i )
I lucked out
on table 4 last night
window seat
baseboard heat
with intimate passages
from Ginsberg
in his purest
and most evident form

Cover-all Carl was draped
in his usual garb
turning pages
of yesterday's news
animating, culturing and bantering
on the fate of the
Greek barber
(in an accent of which
I'm not so sure)

His cronies
looked on
with a twisted conviction
countering
with their own tales
of ingovernance and woe
did you know that Panasonic
lost 5 billion last quarter?


The evening moved
in time lapse...
with painted winds
streaming lights
and a host of
high school girls
running cold

Maleah passed
on her late shift
(checking the pile and trough)
patronized the boys
and called it a night

( ii )
The bald man
is back at it again
bickering at the till
something about
a cold free coffee
or 99 cents
or the coloured guy
behind him who got it hot
a kind Filipino
is trying to get it done
at 8 bucks per,
losing her cool
and shedding a quiet tear

Wonder what the Purewals
or Haitians or Cossacks
would have to say
about this grim public reminder,
wonder what
this sad f*ck
will do tonight...
without his
bus pass
or sling sack
or broken Turkish stems
Heavy Hearted Jun 2018
The river winds in from distant lands
With mercyless power it turns stone to sand
Through its mysterious life, the very earth it commands
And Yet the fearful river still runs through our hands.
In torrents of furry where the deepest currents flow
The rivers wild waters surge with woe. For
Onward, forever, its destined to go
A permenant home it won't ever know.

The river runs from each of us
As a refugee of fear,
It knows in a blink it will be somewhere else
Its waves are really its tears.
It runs from the audacity  
Of the selfish human mind
As Its massive life capacity,
Of flora and fauna combined,
Are threatened by our antics and helpless to our crime
So the river runs on their behalf, from everyone, in time-


even within its whitecap foam
Water's yearning for a home

So roam does the water- endlessly,
till its long gone out of sight
The essential droplets of the river-
Nomads day and night.
CK Baker Feb 2017
it falls through the glow of the wintery trees
building a cover under the breeze
luminous lights sparkle and hatch
snow pack high on the briar patch

pine cones fall from majestic fir
squirrel and robin rustle and stir
sitka spruce at tunnel bluffs
ravens roost on cedar rough

dusted peaks at hurley pass
snowline cuts the avalanche
fox and lynx are on the prowl
hollow eyes from spotted owl

cool winds up the valley trail
whirling snow from diamond vale
chilling flakes in candle hands
moonlight shines across the land

northern lights in krypton green
the sounds of verve are bitter sweet
curtains hang on a cold dark sky
counting stars, a lullaby
Mark Sep 2018
The breaths of fall have swayed the ochre glow
to age the meadow's sheen - with humbling form
then swirls the leaves in whirling wistful blow,
the rustling whispers hush - I too deform.

For I have withered - since the seasons past
as swift as tempered winds have flown my years,
I linger now between my summer's cast
to neath my coat of winter's icy fears.

As tho' to trees like oak I cling to life
in winds that gust and reap from twig and limb
and I, a dangling leaf in breezes rife
awaiting mine; own fall and hue to dim.

From autumn's mulching patter; I derive
my heart's own cease of seasons, will arrive.
CK Baker Mar 2017
the walls of inside passage
look the same
from sound to straight
tugs and plugs
dot the coastline
as the quartermaster rolls
giving time for evening glare  

pods are in sequence
as the high tail smashes
and jaws at the krill
white bellies and sea cows
bob and weave
as bow heads glide
over haida gwaii  

northern lights dance
and tlingit chant
as the tide settles softly
on savory shores
their getting hungry in hoonah
as the blue back and beating drums
mark the life blood of the sea  

driftwood nets
and sitka spruce
surround the cook house
ravens and tinhorns
man the scullery
kerosene lamps flicker
as clam shells roast
on open flames  

villagers stroll
on pebbled sand
in the harbor of souls
where ships set sail
on might and mass
into the steady winds
of the golden skies


ice fields (to the north)
of kryptonite blue
cutting hills at
a glacial pace
knuckle clouds
above the snowline
where warlocks
craft a hidden trade  

trappers, skinners
muscle shoals
grizzly feasts
in kodiak bowl
determined pilgrims
on a dead horse trail
in search of gold
the holy grail
Alyssa Underwood Aug 2017
Lord Jesus, Plower of my heart,
though the darkness descends around me
and heavy moods fall over me,
though the warm feelings of intimacy begin to fade
and encroaching melancholy threatens to set in
like a cold reversal of the winds,
still I will rejoice in Your presence with me,
for You are causing me to press beyond—
beyond the delightful sense of You
and into the delightful assurance of You.

If I know nothing else, I know that You are here,
You are faithful and You love me.
So I will keep clinging to that
when everything else seems to slip
like dust through my fingers
and all hope of good things
in this life grows dim.

I will cling to the promise
that You are clinging to me,
that You’ve got me no matter what,
that You are never leaving or letting go.
For You are the unchanging I AM
in my ever-changing circumstances,
through my ever-shifting emotions,
over my ever-shaking life
and around my ever-feeble heart.

Here is my hand, Lord Jesus.
I put it safely in Yours and trust You
to lead me through this dark night.
Work Your holy, harrowing fingers
deep into the soil of my heart
until every idol is uprooted,
every stone removed
and every broken place restored.
Thank You, Jesus.
I love You.
~~~

"But He knows the way that I take;
when He has tested me, I will come forth as gold."
~ Job 23:10

"You hem me in behind and before,
    and You lay Your hand upon me.
Such knowledge is too wonderful for me,
    too lofty for me to attain.
Where can I go from Your Spirit?
    Where can I flee from Your presence?
If I go up to the heavens, You are there;
    if I make my bed in the depths, You are there.
If I rise on the wings of the dawn,
    if I settle on the far side of the sea,
even there Your hand will guide me,
    Your right hand will hold me fast.
If I say, 'Surely the darkness will hide me
    and the light become night around me,'
even the darkness will not be dark to You;
    the night will shine like the day,
    for darkness is as light to You."
~ Psalm 139:5-12

"Trust in the LORD with all your heart
    and lean not on your own understanding;
in all your ways submit to Him,
    and He will make your paths straight."
~ Proverbs 3:5-6

"...because God has said,
'Never will I leave you;
    never will I forsake you.'"
~ Hebrews 13:5b

~~~

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r2CpU39tM0c
Eva Aloezos Dec 2018
There are winds,
ones whose lure takes the form of hollow whispers,
from a life time prior

a blurry past,
an illusion I can almost grasp

yet,
with my flawed human qualities

It slips through the cracks of my mind
zen Oct 2018
When does the window shut?
when the wind ceaces to weigh?
or when it gets too cold?

here i am a catylst
of a console in creation
in the mind of minds of the mindless

in the seas of self i find the solemn soul
swimming to a coral reef
in rage of remeberance.
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