A wish
Posted by Azadeh on Nov 14th, 2006
I want to go far away; to somewhere no one knows me, never have heard of me or seen me
I want to go and find a blue sky, a wavy sea and a field full of flowers
I want to go and find a warm sun, lie on the grass and let colorful leaves of the fall cover me forever
November 15th, 2006 at 5:10 am
Nice
November 20th, 2006 at 12:52 am
November 29th, 2006 at 2:39 am
Nice, I hope you will start posting more.
November 29th, 2006 at 6:38 am
You should keep up the poetry posts, just as Arash joon does picture posts. Another American poem for you, this one by Woody Guthrie. It is quite long, but one of my favorite pieces in any language.
Remember the Mountain Bed
Do you still sing of the mountain bed we made of limbs and leaves?
Do you still sigh there near the sky where the holly berry bleeds?
You laughed as I covered you over with leaves-
Face, breast, hips, and thighs;
You smiled when I said the leaves were just the color of your eyes.
Rosin smells and turpentine smells from eucalyptus and pine;
Bitter tastes of twigs we chewed where tangled wood vines twine;
Trees held us in on all four sides so thick we could not see.
I could not see any wrong in you, and you saw none in me.
Your arm was brown against the ground, your cheeks part of the sky.
Your fingers played with grassy moss, as limber you did lie.
Your stomach moved beneath your shirt, your knees were in the air.
Your feet played games with mountain roots as you lay thinking there.
Below us the trees grew clumps of trees, raised families of trees, and they
As proud as we tossed their heads in the wind and flung good seeds away.
The sun was hot and the sun was bright down in the valley below
Where people starved and hungry for life so empty come and go.
There in the shade and hid from the sun we freed our minds and learned;
Our greatest reason for being here, our bodies moved and burned.
There on our mountain bed of leaves we learned life’s reason why
People laugh and love and dream, they fight and hate to die.
The smell of your hair I know is still there, if most of our leaves are blown.
Our words still ring in the brush and the trees where singing seeds are sown.
Your shape and form is dim but plain, there on our mountain bed.
I see my life was brightest where you laughed and laid your head…
I learned the reason why man must work and how to dream big dreams
To conquer time and space and fight the rivers and the seas
I stand here filled with my emptiness now and look at city and land.
I know why farms and cities are built by hot, warm, nervous hands.
I crossed many states just to stand here now, my face all hot with tears…
crossed city, and valley, desert, and stream, to bring my body here.
My history and future blaze bright in me and all my joy and pain
Go through my head on our mountain bed where I smell your hair again.
All this day long I linger here and on in through the night
My greeds, desires, my cravings, hopes, my dreams inside me fight:
My loneliness healed, my emptiness filled, I walk above all pain
Back to the breast of my woman and child to scatter my seeds again
January 16th, 2007 at 7:08 pm
I hope you keep posting! Nice poetry and beautiful pictures!
February 14th, 2007 at 2:44 am
I fear you really went there..
March 21st, 2007 at 4:04 pm
Beautiful poem. Look within. the blue sky and the sea are inside you.
Inspiration surrounds me
it’s there in your eyes, a look, a wink
its’ magic eclipses words
and is glimpsed in your smile
It’s evident in the colours of nature
and spills from the laughter of children
It rings in the words of friends
and books and poetry of others
It shouts from the heights of mountains
and whispers in the ripple of brooks
It whistles in the wind
and beckons to me in dreams
It peeks through friends’ imaginative art
or shines through the old masters
it’s a heart-shaped paper on a sidewalk
or a pyramid formed in stone
It’s footprints in the sand
and ocean waves crashing against rocks
it’s sailing on San Francisco Bay
and the view from Russian Hill
It’s in the lined faces of old people
and the clapping hands of babies
it’s offered by an open heart
or a thoughtful gesture
It’s found through a prayer
or someone’s bravery
it’s forged through courage
and willingness to risk
It’s sheltered in a worthy cause
and waiting in buried treasure
it’s wrapped in a fight for justice
and tied with hope for our future
Inspiration surrounds me