This tragic brow, these closed eyes, eyebrows raised and knotted.
quote by Frederick Leboyer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Revival is A Boost
The more I loved her the more I thirsted.
The more I pursued the more she thawed.
Had I not been struck, had she not been knotted,
We would have been knotted, tightly knotted.
I heard she was fervent to get my verses.
My hormones are once more in spate thanks to her.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Eyebrows
He raised his eyebrows once
to ask about my daughter,
lowered them again
to ask about my son,
raised them one more time
to beg a kiss and cuddle
then lowered them again
when I told him where to go.
poem by Ruth Walters
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The Knotting Song
"Hears not my Phyllis how the birds
Their feathered mates salute?
They tell their passion in their words:
Must I alone be mute?"
Phyllis, without frown or smile,
Sat and knotted all the while.
"The god of love in thy bright eyes
Does like a tyrant reign;
But in thy heart a child he lies,
Without his dart of flame."
Phyllis, without frown or smile,
Sat and knotted all the while.
"So many months in silence past,
And yet in raging love,
Might well deserve one word at last
My passion should approve."
Phyllis, without frown or smile,
Sat and knotted all the while.
"Must then your faithful swain expire,
And not one look obtain,
Which he, to soothe his fond desire,
Might pleasingly explain?"
Phyllis, without frown or smile,
Sat and knotted all the while.
poem by Sir Charles Sedley
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Branded
Tragic is the self misplaced.
Tragic is a lost identity...
And no familiarity on anyone's face.
Tragic in denial
Sits the misfits feeling on trial
For lives lived reeking and stinking of bile.
Tragic for them,
Love is not recognized at all...
Nor suitable to start,
From a place within them that begins.
And this becomes tragic for those
Unlike them but comprehending,
These tragedies
May not always be self inflicted...
As they are branded!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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If I make a move, like raise my eyebrows, some critic says I'm doing Nicholson. What am I supposed to do, cut off my eyebrows?
quote by Christian Slater
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Eyebrows
for doing nothing
for simply being there
the eyebrows
are given a higher place
than the nose
the eyes
the mouth
they who feel more important functionally
feel agrieved
about the arrangement
the hierarchy
and the eyebrows that know the reason
simply
niked wanting to laugh to something funny
that the future
has imagined
you know what jealousy may give sometimes
a comedy
and the inevitable chaos
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Daughter of Death
I was born
Born to the blood of angels
Born through the veil of a storm
Born without love inside of me
Born with a need to perform
Born out of vengence
Born out of scorn
Born out of hatred
out of love torn
Born with a mission
Born with a drive
Born with a need
with a need to sruvive.
Now it's time to show you what i'm really about
no more pretentions;
No more frothing at the mouth
there's no use of hiding
all my sins deep inside
I'll wear them on my shoulder like a badge of pride
Cuz i'm the daughter of death
from my very first breath
i'm the daughter of death
blood red as macbeth
living a filthy mess
i'm a daughter of death
just a daughter of death
I was
Raised from buring ashes
Raised with tragic crime
Raised from cries of chaos
Raised on borrowed time
Raised by the darkness
Rasied by the night
Raised by the claws of fright
Raised to be hated
Riased to be loved
Riased to be doomed
By the powers above
poem by Brittany Cook
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Picasso Youth Mask
youth glazed
green brown
clay framed red
absorb emotion
features contort
experiences run
brow flat lip twist
nose master hairline
forehead eyebrows sight
hair to neck curve straight
above eyes below hairline
world will raw face stiff chin
poem by Terence George Craddock
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My dearest soulmate
I will never forget you my dearest soulmate..
these old meomries will never fade...
you've always laid me in your shade...
whenever I trembled or felt afraid....
and raised me up when I failed..
you've taught me how to overcome the sadness
and put and end to all that hate....
Do you remember all the games that we've played? ....
all the moments we have shared....
the unfolded visions we used to paint...
and even when it rained
our eyes have always met and blazed.......
to challenge all the eyebrows that were raised........
and the promise you have made
to stick with me in any country or far away state....
tell me how can I have the will to evade
all the dreams that we've always shared? .......
But now I'm sooooo faint...........
falling apart behind you like a pale lifless blade.......
cause am being always chased....
by all the precious moments that we've shared...
and my cruise has never sailed...
still there waiting to be saved...
by the eyes who have alwyas claimed...
and reflected the truth that I'm the only girl to be praised...
so please reach out for me and offer some aid...
to a heart broken girl who has always prayed....
to be blessed with the fate...
of seeing you once again before it gets too late......
my dearest soulmate..........
But I always curl my lashes, even if I don't put on mascara. I'll also put on a lip gloss or lip balm. And I always brush my eyebrows. I have very thick eyebrows - I'm just now starting to thin them out a bit.
quote by Denise Richards
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Trio
So well she knew them both! yet as she came
Into the room, and heard their speech
Of tragic meshes knotted with her name,
And saw them, foes, but meeting each with each
Closer than friends, souls bared through enmity,
Beneath their startled gaze she thought that she
Broke as the stranger on their conference,
And stole abashed from thence.
poem by Victoria Sackville-West
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Awaken Little Dreamer
With my eyes closed I see sadness. Sadness I held in for so long. Sadness that is beginning to be replaced with madness. Madness that's been eating at my core, my thought process, my mind for so long.
Eyes open, I see a reality I've been trying to to change, to better it. A lie, I've been living a lie. My life is a lie, one I've been living for so long.
A single tear escapes my eye as I am awaking from my made up reality, my created world. Reality, my reality is tragic not magic. Tears I held back now pour from my eyes, tears I held back for so long.
With my eyes closed I see sadness. I see pain masked by madness. I see sadness hidden by a web of lies and as I open my eyes I hear a voice say, 'Awaken from your dream, come and face reality. Awaken little dreamer. Awaken.'
poem by Suzaku Vaneko
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You Enchant Me
Enchant me,
Even with my eyes closed...
You do.
Weaving a spell.
And I wish not to resist.
Will I get to see you again?
I wish.
With a wanting to approach,
Yet fearing to be rejected.
Enchant me,
Even with my eyes closed...
You do.
So brave am I with my wants.
So weak am I to get my needs met.
Enchant me you do.
And I can't seem to tell you of this.
So brave am I with my wants.
So weak am I to get my needs met.
Although with each step I take,
I promise myself I'll take another.
Enchant me,
Even with my eyes closed...
You do.
Do I wish you didn't?
I don't but if I did...
How would you know you enchant me?
How would you know I am weak to get my needs met?
Although I am brave to know my wants remain to stay.
Enchant me,
Even with my eyes closed...
You do.
And how and why you do this I still don't know.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Henry and Woman Servicing
You don't want to go
With that kind of woman,
Henry's mother said.
What kind of woman
is that? Henry asked.
The kind that offer
themselves to men
who are not their
husbands, his mother
replied, sitting back
in the soft chair by
the fireplace, joining
her fingers, forming
what she used to call
her church. Henry watched
her church form of finger
forming, his eyes sliding
over his mother's dyed
hair, the grey streaks,
the nose, the thin red
painted lips. But isn't
that kind of women
providing a service?
Henry asked, walking
to the window, watching
his father mowing the
lawn, sweat on the brow,
the eyes dead looking.
Service? His mother said,
her tone icy, Service?
She repeated, that's not
service, Henry that's sin.
S.I.N. Henry raised his
eyebrows, there was in
the pocket of his pants,
a pack of fives, unused
as yet. Oh, Henry said,
Duncan Smold had this
woman in the back of
his car, he called it hard
smooching or some such
word. Henry's mother
eyed him closely, her eyes
narrowing. Then he sinned,
Henry, he sinned, she said,
pushing a hand through
her hair, her features going
red. Oh, right, Henry said,
I'll tell Duncan next time
he's in his car with some
woman in the back, that
he's sinning, Henry turned
away, he didn't want his
mother to see him grinning.
poem by Terry Collett
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An angel was passing through the Sky
Hey! Anyone can answer me what's life.
All the hands in the class raised.
Teacher was glad to see those.
'So, you all know', teacher said.
Can anyone tell me what is dream.
All the hands in the class raised.
Teacher was glad to see those.
'So, you all know', teacher said.
Can anyone tell me what is fear.
All the hands in the class raised.
Teacher was glad to see those.
'So, you all know', teacher said.
Can anyone tell me what is mind.
All the hands in the class go down.
Time was passing, without a single sound.
Classroom was fulfilled by husky wind.
'Last bench corner '
'Last bench corner ', hey! you tell me.
The boy was looking far far away behind the window grills.
Stood up.
Placed his hand on his chest and closed his eyes.
An angel was passing through the Sky.
poem by Sougata Majumder
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Closed My Eyes
I closed my eyes and went back to sleep,
thinking to get back to that bad dream
but unfortunately,
It was not this time.
I closed my eyes and went back to sleep,
hoping to wake up,
and welcome a beautiful day,
But was already caught in the darkness.
I closed my eyes and went back to sleep,
wishing to start the day,
seeing his face,
sadly that would just be in dream.
I closed my eyes and went back to sleep.
waiting for that wake up kiss,
but sadly never would be true again,
poem by Pratisha Karki
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No Difference
i stared out the window
at the bare frozen limbs
of my favorite old tree...
i closed my eyes...
saw leaves bud forth
and turn green...
i opened my eyes...
knowing there was no difference.
i stared at the young girl
reading at a corner table
i closed my eyes...
and saw an old grandmother
washing dishes with her grandbabies
playing in the floor at her feet...
i opened my eyes...
knowing there was no difference.
i saw the young man
carrying his son on his shoulders
i closed my eyes...
and saw an old man standing
by his son's casket
draped by a flag...
i opened my eyes...
knowing there was no difference.
i saw an old man
standing on the corner begging
i closed my eyes...
i saw a young boy
playing ball in the street
laughing and dodging cars
i opened my eyes...
knowing there was no difference.
i saw a crack head shivering
by an electric heater in a bare apartment
i closed my eyes...
and saw a young a/g student
helping some kid with his math
i opened my eyes...
knowing there was no difference.
i saw a desperate girl
walking the streets
looking for a john
i closed my eyes...
and saw a young girl's room
stuffed animals on the bed
pictures of her and her daddy on the wall
i opened my eyes...
knowing there was no difference.
i saw a young man
wild-eyed with fear
in a prison cell
i closed my eyes...
i saw a young boy gone hunting
with his grandpa on thanksgiving morn
with his dog by his side
i opened my eyes...
knowing there was no difference.
i pulled back the veil of time...
knowing, there is no difference!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Everynight I Wake Up Screaming
If it's all a magnificent mistake
There goes the universe and it's order
I was dreaming wide awake
When something pulled me under the water
(Breathe) I can't surface I
(Breathe) Its in my fear
(Breathe) And I can't stop it
(Breathe) I can't, I can't breathe
(Breathe) I'm choking
(Breathe) And I don't want to sleep
Everynight I wake up screaming
We're the last tribe
as the world stops turning
Everynight I wake up screaming
My car crash isn't far from here
And everything looks better
with my eyes closed
Everything looks better
with my eyes closed
There's a terrorist somewhere
With my name on a bullet he's loading
There's a meteor out there
With the world in it's sights
and it's closing
Everynight I wake up screaming
We're the last you and me
as the world stops turning
Everynight I wake up screaming
The end of everything's very near
Everything looks better
with my eyes closed
Everything looks better
with my eyes closed
Everynight I wake up screaming
I'm the last man
as the world stops turning
Everynight I wake up screaming
Dreaming that I'm blind again
And everything looks better
with my eyes closed
Everything looks better
with my eyes closed
song performed by by Rick Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Angel Of Death
and then the angel of death
flies and stops
beside her, and she who was
prepared with what to say
didn't say much,
she smiled,
raised her hand
to hold his,
as though to welcome her
in an embrace
and she did embrace her
yet how can we not see
what joy she had seen
that moment
and then she closed
her eyes
into an infinite
bliss.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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For Mom
Old sepia photos…
Tear on cheek
Catch in my breast
Chin in my hand
Winsome smile on my lips
Eyes closed in retrospect
Warm glow arising
Sadness, gladness
Happiness, madness
Chaos and caring
Teaching and sharing
Bad times, good times
Warm breast, soft lap
Strong hands and wrinkles
Loving eyes, weary sighs
Giving…always giving
Graying hair
Being there
Warm hand on my brow
Old sepia photos…
Of her and dad
Newly married
Both just kids themselves
Hard to imagine them
The times and changes
The selflessly given support
The daily sacrifice
Tear on my cheek
Catch in my breast
Eyes tightly closed in retrospect…
And respect….
For mom
poem by David Whalen
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