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The unfair act
An object draws one's attention.
Both are culpable.
A woman draws man's eyes.
Both are culpable.
Blaming man is unfair.
21.05.2012
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Each blade of grass has its spot on earth whence it draws its life, its strength; and so is man rooted to the land from which he draws his faith together with his life.
quote by Joseph Conrad
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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hurt draws a line
love draws a longer line
just above it
quote by by Indira Babbellapati (19 December 2009)
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Dropped My Draws
I dropped my draws!
And instantly...
We did not care,
Where they were!
I drew her in my mind!
All the time.
On my canvas!
I caught the sunlight on her hair.
Dew dipped in the mornings,
To glisten.
With a hint of tint...
Captured by the setting of the Sun.
And after I was done...
I would collect my drawings,
To begin my long walk home!
High on Russian Hill.
In San Francisco.
And she rushed around from Chestnut.
Brushed against me...
As I turned to lose sight of the Wharf.
We bumped!
And I dropped my draws.
Scattered they flew into the street.
She noticed her image,
On nearly all of them.
She looked at me and grinned.
Within an instant...
We fixed our eyes.
And neither one of us cared,
Where my draws were.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Bars
He paces the space off
between the bars,
draws a cigarette out of his ass
and a match
that is hidden beneath the mattress
which he draws against a cement floor
and the match lights up
and in ecstasy
he draws in the marijuana fumes.
Just now somebody
are going to enter him from behind
in the shower
and he tries
to get it out of his thoughts
and thinks about the Vaseline
with which he is going
to wipe his body glowing
and suddenly the cigarette tastes bitter
and like a animal in zoo
he is caught and caged in
and monotony eats through his humanity
and he count while he measures his paces,
do a few push ups
and forces a grin
as he thinks that a hero character would have
l’Envoi
but the longing for drugs
is already in him
and to be bound to it
is another kind of penalty, a jail
where no light ever comes
that is making him an animal
who acts irrationally
waiting for the next fix.
poem by Gert Strydom
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As The Time Draws Nigh
as the time draws nigh
like how it happens to all of us
thanks it is at different times
otherwise i would have no more friends
to share my poems with
sing my love songs to
as the time draws nigh
i feel each of my verses
a diamond savlaged from
the deepest part of ground
getting scarcer and scarcer
the 640,000 lines i intend to write
through travels, love scores,
meeting with gods and goddesses
a journey to the realms
that give my poem
a special dimension
this heart afflutter
whenever i meet poets of similar sentiments
like whitman
i walk in his shoes
over places i have never been to
through his spirit
i thrive
writing poems
more for myself than anybody else
as the time draws nigh
i feel each of my verses
acquires a shine
a shine reflected from yesteryears
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dancing Barefoot
She is benediction - she is addicted to thee
She is the root connection - she is connecting with thee
She is sublimation - she is the essence of thee
She is concentrating on he , chosen she
Im dancing barefoot, heading for a spin
Some strange music draws me in
Makes me come on like some heroine
She is recreation - shes intoxicated by thee
She has the slow sensation that he is levitating with she
Here I go, well I dont know why
I float so ceaselessly
Could it be hes taken over me
Im dancing barefoot, in mid-air I spin
Some strange music draws me in
Makes me come on like some heroine
Im dancing barefoot, heading for a spin
Some strange music draws me in
Makes me come on like some heroine
song performed by by Xymox
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mumbai Wedding: An Obituary
Familiar signal for all to gather and bless
All rejoice but eye brims with unshed tear
Two become one, but grow more not less
Farewell to hearth draws ever more near
All rejoice but eye brims with unshed tear
The signature droning sound of shehnai
Farewell to hearth draws ever more near
Plaintive notes waft sweet and high.
poem by Mahfooz Ali
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Calvin Campbell
Ye who are kicking against Fate,
Tell me how it is that on this hill-side,
Running down to the river,
Which fronts the sun and the south-wind,
This plant draws from the air and soil
Poison and becomes poison ivy?
And this plant draws from the same air and soil
Sweet elixirs and colors and becomes arbutus?
And both flourish?
You may blame Spoon River for what it is,
But whom do you blame for the will in you
That feeds itself and makes you dock-weed,
Jimpson, dandelion or mullen
And which can never use any soil or air
So as to make you jessamine or wistaria?
poem by Edgar Lee Masters
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Sonnet
Now let the draughtsman of my eyes be done
marking the line of petal and of hill.
Let the long commentary of the brain
be silent. Evening and the earth are one,
and bird and tree are simple and stand still.
Now, fragile heart swung in your webs of vein,
and perilous self won hardly out of clay,
gather the harvest of last light, and reap
the luminous fields of sunset for your bread.
Blurs the laborious focus of the day
and shadow brims the hillside slow as sleep.
Here is the word that, when all words are said,
shall compass more than speech. The sun is gone;
draws on the night at last; the dream draws on.
poem by Judith Wright
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His Grange, Or Private Wealth
Though clock,
To tell how night draws hence, I've none,
A cock
I have to sing how day draws on:
I have
A maid, my Prue, by good luck sent,
To save
That little, Fates me gave or lent.
A hen
I keep, which, creeking day by day,
Tells when
She goes her long white egg to lay:
A goose
I have, which, with a jealous ear,
Lets loose
Her tongue, to tell what danger's near.
A lamb
I keep, tame, with my morsels fed,
Whose dam
An orphan left him, lately dead:
A cat
I keep, that plays about my house,
Grown fat
With eating many a miching mouse:
To these
A Trasy I do keep, whereby
I please
The more my rural privacy:
Which are
But toys, to give my heart some ease:--
Where care
None is, slight things do lightly please.
poem by Robert Herrick
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Dancing Barefoot
(patti smith)
She is benediction
She is addicted to thee
She is the root connection
She is connecting with he
Here I go and I dont know why
I fell so ceaselessly
Could it be hes taking over me...
Im dancing barefoot
Heading for a spin
Some strange music draws me in
Makes me come on like some heroin
She is sublimation
She is the essence of thee
She is concentrating on
He, who is chosen by she
Here I go and I dont know why
I spin so ceaselessly,
Could it be hes taking over me...
Im dancing barefoot
Heading for a spin
Some strange music draws me in
Makes me come on like some heroin
She is recreation
She, intoxicated by thee
She has the slow sensation that
He is levitating with she ...
Here I go and I dont know why,
I spin so ceaselessly,
til I lose my sense of gravity...
Im dancing barefoot
Heading for a spin
Some strange music draws me in
Makes me come on like some heroin
song performed by by Waterboys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet LXXIX: The Monochord
Is it this sky's vast vault or ocean's sound
That is Life's self and draws my life from me,
And by instinct ineffable decree
Holds my breath quailing on the bitter bound?
Nay, is it Life or Death, thus thunder-crown'd,
That 'mid the tide of all emergency
Now notes my separate wave, and to what sea
Its difficult eddies labour in the ground?
Oh! what is this that knows the road I came,
The flame turned cloud, the cloud returned to flame,
The lifted shifted steeps and all the way?—
That draws round me at last this wind-warm space,
And in regenerate rapture turns my face
Upon the devious coverts of dismay?
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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Sitting Here Staring At My Last Friend
Sitting here staring at my last friend
We never talk, about the end
How can we talk?
Why should we talk?
The end is here between you and me.
For my last friends
in the bottom of a bottle
Down the barrel of a gun
My last friend is a friend indeed
A friend who could never run.
Your last friend is in your veins
As you stare blanky into that space
I can see it working behind your eyes
once sweet shining beautiful eyes
For your last friends
at the end of a needle
Under the screw down cap
Your last friend is a friend indeed
Draws your blood running like sap
Together we'll leave this cruel world
The sails of death unfurled
Me and my last friend?
Or me and you?
Eaither way, two of us sail.
For my last friends
in the bottom of a bottle
Down the barrel of a gun
My last friend is a friend indeed
A friend who could never run
and your last friends
at the end of a needle
Under the screw down cap
Your last friend is a friend indeed
Draws your blood running like sap
The sails billow out and the ravens scream
as we sail onwards on that ship
You on your own with the unscrewed lid
Me on my own with a smoking gun
One swallow, one bullet and two lives are gone
Me and my last friend
you and your last friend...
for my last friends
in the bottom of a bottle
Down the barrel of a gun
My last friend is a friend indeed
A friend who could never run.
and your last friends
at the end of a needle
Under the screw down cap
Your last friend is a friend indeed
Draws your blood running like sap
poem by Tamsin Burnett
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Mirror of life
The two faced mirror of life
Why do you deceive me and make me look pretty
Where is the mirror
Why do you make me look so pretty
When the hands of death draws me near to its eternal bosom
The two faced mirror of life
The jars of perfume are not helping
The smell of death draws near
Let death no longer lie to me
Death, the two faced mirror of life
poem by Doris Dzameshie
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I wonder how I fit into my new country
Respect for other people
and self are missing
and while I go up the steps
of the bus
teenage girls are shouting
loudly to each other
and a ghetto blaster,
is playing very loud music
and it’s much worst
than in a mad bazaar.
a Toddler pushes her fingers
one after the other
into her nose
and draws lines
on seats and windows
and her mother
wipes her nose against her jersey.
An overweight lady
sits down next to me
and there’s a sharp smell
that hits my nose
and no other seat
to go to
and I wonder if she
bathed this week,
or this month
and are scared that head lice
are going to jump on to me.
The bus draws away
and misses a car narrowly
and jerks
while the driver changes gears,
as if he’s struggling
to get the right one.
When I get off at the bus stop
there’s a man relieving himself
and the urine smell,
hangs heavy in the air
and I wonder how
I fit into my new country.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Spring. (From The French Of Charles D'Orleans. XV. Century)
Gentle Spring! in sunshine clad,
Well dost thou thy power display!
For Winter maketh the light heart sad,
And thou, thou makest the sad heart gay,
He sees thee, and calls to his gloomy train,
The sleet, and the snow, and the wind, and the rain;
And they shrink away, and they flee in fear,
When thy merry step draws near.
Winter giveth the fields and the trees, so old,
Their beards of icicles and snow;
And the rain, it raineth so fast and cold,
We must cower over the embers low;
And, snugly housed from the wind and weather,
Mope like birds that are changing feather.
But the storm retires, and the sky grows clear,
When thy merry step draws near.
Winter maketh the sun in the gloomy sky
Wrap him round with a mantle of cloud;
But, Heaven be praised, thy step is nigh;
Thou tearest away the mournful shroud,
And the earth looks bright, and Winter surly,
Who has toiled for nought both late and early,
Is banished afar by the new-born year,
When thy merry step draws near.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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To The Girls Of The Unions
GIRLS, we love you, and love
Asks you to give again
That which draws it above,
Beautiful, without stain.
Give us weariless faith
In our Cause pure, passionate,
Dearer than life and death,
Dear as the love that's it!
Give to the man who turns
Traitrous hands or forlorn
Back from the plough that burns,
Give him pitiless scorn!
Let him know that no wife
Would bear him a fearless child
To hate and loathe the life
Of a leprous father defiled.
Girls, we love you, and love
Asks you to give again
That which draws it above,
Beautiful, without stain!
poem by Francis William Lauderdale Adams
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Meanwhile
Just in a simple conversation
You can hear the feeling change
Down to the sea
And if you need an explanation
I defy you to explain
But somethings not the same
And its bothering me
I think I see where I went wrong
I think I see whats going on
Meanwhile and far away
As the night draws in
Hes holding her right now
I can feel it all begin
Meanwhile and far away
When the day is done
I ride away with my friend
Into the setting sun
And the rivers running down
Down to the sea
I let love slip right through my fingers
And I watched it drift away
But still I had to say
What was written for me
I thought Id end up as the hero
Thought the glory would be mine
Very soon I was to find
It wasnt to be
cos in this part Ive got to play
It doesnt quite turn out that way
Meanwhile and far away
As the night draws in
Hes holding her right now
I can feel it all begin
Meanwhile and far away
When the day is done
I ride away with my friend
Into the setting sun
And the rivers running down
Down to the sea
song performed by by Moody Blues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ballerina Valerie
Down in the garden
Under a leaf, she was smoking her keef
And she was looking at stardom
Everythings bright as she draws on the pipe
And the bowl glows redder
And things look better
Mars is a ruby
Saturn is sapphire, it burns with a blue fire
Colors run through me
Loosen my thinking, theyre flashing and blinking
And always changing, rearranging
Ballerina, valerie now
Move me through your crimson dances
Terragan, a red bandana
Bring me down your silver trances
Down in the garden
Under an oak, he was drinking his coke
And he was looking at stardom
Everythings bright as he draws on the pipe
And the bowl glows redder
And things go better with coca-cola
song performed by by Joni Mitchell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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