Imagery
Long, long ago
I broke the imagery
With the post modern
Random bombing
Of events, the little
Sweet bird of my mind
Can not perch on a single
Branch, moves
From cave to cave,
Can not concentrate
Dragging from one
Point to another,
Disconnected.
The gust of wind
Blowing him away
The flash flood
Unplugged him
From the root.
In the canvas
the complex
Photo copy of
The worries and anxieties
Emotions …
Broken, fragmented
Volcanic and abrupt
Intense, rough
Tempted and wild.
Stormed and haunted
Souls run after illusions.
Bleeding heart can not
Focus, tears lost
Colors, negatives
Can not give you any more
The images or photographs.
poem by Abdul Wahab
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Related quotes
Cave
Leave me alone it's nothing serious
I'll do it myself
It's got nothing to do with you
And there's nothing that you could do
You can see it and you can almost hear it too
You can almost taste it
It's nothing to do with you
And it's still nothing that you can do
So come in my cave
And I'll burn your heart away
Come in my cave
I'll burn your heart away
Please close your ears
And try to look away
So you never hear a single word I say
And don't ever come my way
Leave me alone
It's nothing serious
I'll do it myself
It's got nothing to do with you
And there's still nothing that you could do
So come in my cave
And I'll burn your heart away
Come in my cave
And arrest me for my mistakes
song performed by by Muse from Showbiz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Saddest Photographs V: Behind the Lens
I do picture you
Like a genuine diamond
In the shores of Bimini
For I haven't been and seen
Bimini's blues and greens
I do picture you
In a spectrum of gaiety
In lull reels and negatives
I swoon over the plethora of colors
I found in a grayscale portrait
I do picture you
With eyes close, I do picture you,
With or without the errs and flaws
In a glassine gloss
From a rotogravure photo
But the handsome photo album
Couldn't stay out of the red room
For these pictures are of
My saddest memories
For what you are to me
Is something that will never be
The saddest photographs are those never taken.
poem by Norman Santos
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Don't Only Focus On The Money
When you go for the money,
You'll be selling your soul.
And when one goes for just the money,
The heart turns cold.
So don't focus on the money,
Don't.
Don't only focus on the money,
Don't.
Bling is nice but there's more to life.
Don't focus on the money,
Don't.
Open your mind with bright wide eyes,
To take a ride that will excite you.
With a view to greater heights.
So...
Don't focus on the money,
Don't.
No don't you focus on the money,
Don't.
When you go for the money,
You'll be selling your soul.
Don't focus on the money,
Don't.
Don't let your heart grow old and cold.
Don't focus on the money,
Don't.
So...
Don't you focus on the money,
Don't.
No don't you focus on the money,
Don't.
So...
Don't you focus on the money,
Don't.
No don't you focus on the money,
Don't.
Don't only focus on the money,
Don't.
No don't you focus on the money,
Don't.
So you just don't focus on the money,
Don't.
So you just don't focus on the money,
Don't.
No don't you focus on the money,
Don't.
Don't only focus on the money,
Don't.
'I feel funny when I don't have any money.'
Don't focus on the money,
Don't.
Don't only focus on the money,
Don't.
Don't you only focus on the money,
Don't.
Don't keep your focus on the fact that you always stay broke.
Don't focus on the money,
Don't.
Don't only focus on the money,
Don't.
Don't stay focused on the money,
Don't!
Don't keep your focus on the fact that you always stay broke.
Don't focus on the money,
Don't.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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What difference is there, do you think, between those in Plato's cave who can only marvel at the shadows and images of various objects, provided they are content and don't know what they miss, and the philosopher who has emerged from the cave and sees the real things?
quote by Desiderius Erasmus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Love Lost Broken Hearts
Love Lost Broken Hearts
Within the time love is lost
Thrown asunder into the
Wind
Left
Many broken hearts to live
In loneliness
Broken down piece by piece
Weaken just to mourn a love
That was once beautiful
But Now
Just tossed into the wind
Like the petals from the rose
Destined to ride upon the
Wind
Now used and broken
Just
Tears fills the wind
Sobbing echo's into the night
From the broken hearts
Tossed away like broken
Glass
Ancient and old as the lost
Love is trapped
Within time
Within the mind
Love that is lost from time
Back than
Weaken from the fight trying
To hold their lover heart
But
Cannot be regained
Cannot be mended
Spoiled without even a
'Sigh'
From her lover's heart
Just echo's of hurt and tears
From
The painful ruins of love tied
So strong
Being tossed to the wind as
Unwanted paper
Lonely eyes
Lonely hearts
Lonely tears
Just rides and echo's in the
Wind
Crying out for their love
That cannot be found
So desperately in need
To find their place in
The heart of the wind
That holds all their tears
Their fears
Their Pain
That bleeds into the heart
Of the wind
From The Love That Is Lost
And The Broken hearts..
poem by Carolyn Sears
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Focus
focus
focus on god
focus on freedom
focus on forgiveness
focus on sweet speech
focus on treasures
focus on humility
focus on commitment
focus on mind
focus on success
focus on health
focus on healthy transformation
focus on goodness
focus on laughter
focus on fun
focus on angel
focus on sweetness
focus on wealth
focus
poem by Johnny Walks
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Gethsemane's Wheel
too long in the garden,
too long behind the plow.
too long at the table,
too long tending the fire...
too long fighting wars,
too long in the cave.
too long, and too many nights,
burning the candle down.
too long behind the wheel,
too long on the cross...
it is finished, day is done...
roll back the stone!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Ruins
My heart - do not ask me
Where love is,
It may have been a river of compassion, and it dried.
It may have been a castle of imagination, and it collapsed.
It may have been a history of a never-ending grief.
Oh heart!
Never forget when you tempted me
With sweet emotions -
That saved me,
Like an extended hand
Through raging waves,
Saving the drowned.
Let us drink upon its ruins
As long as the tears keep flowing,
And fly above its remains
As a bird chanting his pain.
Someday,
Our tears may refill the river,
Our pain may rebuild the castle,
And,
Our future may be grief-free.
*
Someday!
Someday!
Someday!
Someday!
poem by Ibrahim Ibn Salma
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Take This Waltz
Now in vienna theres ten pretty women
Theres a shoulder where death comes to cry
Theres a lobby with nine hundred windows
Theres a tree where the doves go to die
Theres a piece that was torn from the morning
And it hangs in the gallery of frost
Ay, ay, ay, ay
Take this waltz, take this waltz
Take this waltz with the clamp on its jaws
Oh I want you, I want you, I want you
On a chair with a dead magazine
In the cave at the tip of the lily
In some hallways where loves never been
On a bed where the moon has been sweating
In a cry filled with footsteps and sand
Ay, ay, ay, ay
Take this waltz, take this waltz
Take its broken waist in your hand
This waltz, this waltz, this waltz, this waltz
With its very own breath of brandy and death
Dragging its tail in the sea
Theres a concert hall in vienna
Where your mouth had a thousand reviews
Theres a bar where the boys have stopped talking
Theyve been sentenced to death by the blues
Ah, but who is it climbs to your picture
With a garland of freshly cut tears?
Ay, ay, ay, ay
Take this waltz, take this waltz
Take this waltz its been dying for years
Theres an attic where children are playing
Where Ive got to lie down with you soon
In a dream of hungarian lanterns
In the mist of some sweet afternoon
And Ill see what youve chained to your sorrow
All your sheep and your lilies of snow
Ay, ay, ay, ay
Take this waltz, take this waltz
With its Ill never forget you, you know!
This waltz, this waltz, this waltz, this waltz ...
And Ill dance with you in vienna
Ill be wearing a rivers disguise
The hyacinth wild on my shoulder,
My mouth on the dew of your thighs
And Ill bury my soul in a scrapbook,
With the photographs there, and the moss
And Ill yield to the flood of your beauty
My cheap violin and my cross
And youll carry me down on your dancing
To the pools that you lift on your wrist
Oh my love, oh my love
Take this waltz, take this waltz
Its yours now. its all that there is.
song performed by by Leonard Cohen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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So Long, So long
Oh, dear friend, so long, so long
This we’ll be my last farewell, waving goodbyes,
The moment I rage; soak in tears my eyes
I spoke to you, so long, so long.
Time moves unease, so strange
I gratefully cry those words of sweet sorrow,
When you flip your hand over the open window
So long and remain unchanged.
So long to my sweet memories,
I pace awhile beside the seashore with her,
She softly said, “Nobody can live here forever”
Farewell unto her faded diaries.
Strife over the dying of the light,
Which ablaze my heart of unconditional frost,
But not until now that you’ve already lost
So long on the dead of the night.
So long my dearest friend,
The day comes; it’s your time to be at rest,
Knowing you, eternally, I’m blessed
So long, so long till the end.
poem by Raymond Cabrera
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Flies
I never kill a fly because
I think that what we have of laws
To regulate and civilize
Our daily life - we owe to flies.
Apropos, I'll tell you of Choo, the spouse
Of the head of the hunters, Wung;
Such a beautiful cave they had for a house,
And a brood of a dozen young.
And Wung would start by the dawn's red light
On the trailing of bird or beast,
And crawl back tired on the brink of night
With food for another feast.
Then the young would dance in their naked glee,
And Choo would fuel the fire;
Fur and feather, how good to see,
And to gorge to heart's desire!
Flesh of rabbit and goose and deer,
With fang-like teeth they tore,
And laughed with faces a bloody smear,
And flung their bones on the floor.
But with morning bright the flies would come,
Clouding into the cave;
You could hardly hear for their noisy hum,
They were big and black and brave.
Darkling the day with gust of greed
They'd swarm in the warm sunrise
On the litter of offal and bones to feed -
A million or so of flies.
Now flies were the wife of Wung's despair;
They would sting and buzz and bite,
And as her only attire was hair
She would itch from morn to night:
But as one day she scratched her hide,
A thought there came to Choo;
"If I were to throw the bones outside,
The flies would go there too."
That spark in a well-nigh monkey mind,
Nay, do not laugh or scorn;
For there in the thoughts of Choo you'll find
Was the sense of Order born;
As she flung the offal far and wide,
And the fly-cloud followed fast,
Battening on the bones outside
The cave was clear at last.
And Wung was pleased when he came at night,
For the air was clean and sweet,
And the cave-kids danced in the gay firelight,
And fed on the new-killed meat;
But the children Choo would chide and boss,
For her cleanly floor was her pride,
And even the baby was taught to toss
His bite of a bone outside.
Then the cave crones came and some admired,
But others were envious;
And they said: "She swanks, she makes us tired
With her complex modern fuss."
However, most of the tribe complied,
Though tradition dourly dies,
And a few Conservatives crossly cried:
"We'll keep our bones and our flies."
So Reformer Choo was much revered
And to all she said: "You see
How my hearth is clean and my floor is cleaned,
And there ain't no flies on me"...
And that was how it all began,
Through horror of muck and mess,
Even in prehistoric Man,
LAW, ORDER and CLEANLINESS'.
And that is why I never kill
A fly, no matter how obscene;
For I believe in God's good will:
He gave us vermin to make us clean.
poem by Robert William Service
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True Love Part 2
I'm smothered in thoughts of you night and day.
I'm slipping off the safe side of sanity
'Cause my love submerges its roots deep into the soil of you
With each passing day.
Each moment I sew with you,
Countless emotions flood my gates.
Every time I see sunshine smiles,
I laugh with tears in my eyes.
Sometimes, I'm a broken puzzle.
Can't calculate this love anymore.
Why do I have to hide it for so long?
Can I make this a beautiful song?
My love for you is
The sunrise that colors velvet sky,
The fountain that shimmers pearly blue,
And the sun that beats down on me.
Now I cover my eyes with tears,
As I unearth the days without fears.
In my heart there is joy
That weeps incessantly.
poem by Alon Calinao Dy
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A Broken Heart
a broken heart
you search
for metaphor
to begin with
collins?
yes, you got
it
a broken
wing
it cannot fly
but i prefer
a wing
clipped
like paper
or a wind
without wings
or a wing
without
the wind
or wingless winds
or windless
wings
the point
is
one can always be right
for as long
as one feels
for as long
as one
still writes
for as long as one still attempts to write what one feels
and feels what he writes for as long as longing still longs
a broken wing
can always be a broken heart
a metaphor to always begin with
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Tears Were Never Sweet
It drips -
my ocean.
One dropp at a time
from the eyes of a grey stone.
Flows the anguish
in a cave.
A fallen grace from sky,
flickering like an earthen lamp.
Do not go
heart broken into crowd.
Tears were never sweet.
poem by Satish Verma
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Romantic Collision
In my mind lies a thought
a wonderful assumption
of an imaginary bump
so delightful and ecstatic
coming across my dream love
in such romantic collision.
With a passionate apology
a reciprocating handshake
mind blowing flashback
placing the familiarity
of your captivating beauty
in our once but lost
thrilling encounter.
A look of love at second sight
getting acquainted again for love
a steady gaze at charming eyes
getting carried away by lust.
Taking you back to past events
our long nice romantic stroll
of intense feelings being expressed
pleading then to be just a friend
when schooling split us up to part,
having to see your face no more
I've longed and longed and waited still
for such nice romantic collision.
Making sure we part no more
and having you all by my side
fixing up fast a date with you
with hope to see you once again.
A sweet share of intense feelings
and lovely share of sentiments
having such a sweet assumption
hold on realistic manifestation
of such nice imaginary passion
becoming but a true love story
of a sweet nice romantic collision.
poem by Dowell Oba
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The Haunted
I sleep, I wake, just same.
Haunted.
Tears don't work.
Pain won't go.
Haunted.
Maybe its here to stay.
My bag of rocks.
Haunted.
No great purpose.
Just be my load.
Haunted.
To hold me back.
This heavy sack.
Haunted.
I wake today. Maybe time to pray.
Haunted.
This curse must go.
Hit lowest low.
Haunted.
Nightmare of my soul.
My mind. My heart
My entire being.
Haunted.
Haunted. Haunted. Haunted.
I am
The walking. The crawling. The waiting. The moving. The wailing.
The death defying.
I am
The Haunted.
poem by Lindsay Maasdorp
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Ruminations
If there were a cave
That I could wander into
I'd shout your name inside of it
And hear the echo of you.
To have it reverberate loudly
Might drown out my pain,
Pierce my ears, trouble my head
Where thoughts of you remain.
And as it bounced around inside
I'd welcome the chill of the cave.
For I'd know that as I exited it
Maybe my heart could behave.
For I'd find my heart is hollow
Like the cave I'd just been in.
And I'd feel the icy chill again
For your touch is absent from my skin.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Animal Awareness
I had a man
Stand on a point
And look out into a void
Framed by the outline of himself.
The point was at the entrance to a cave.
The entrance,
Shaped like him, legs akimbo,
Each arm outstretched to the side,
Resembled a five-legged star,
The point, the lowest crotch of the star.
To relieve the white of the void,
Behind the entrance to the cave
I painted five conical pines
The apex of each at a crotch of the legs of the star.
The void became a sky
Above the peaks of the pines.
Further back inside the cave
I drew a geometrical detail
Of a beetle's fabulous wing,
and another of such obscurity
I was buried in the part
Unsure of knowing the whole.
What's more,
I was without a need to know
What lies BEYOND the whole,
or lies beyond the HOLE.
poem by Douglas Scotney
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At some point you start seeing the difference between what you really want, and what is your priority order. I feel that today I know what I want. That's the problem with perspective, as well as focus and concentration.
quote by Nick Cave
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Where The Wild Roses Grow
Word and music by: nick cave
They call me the wild rose
But my name is elisa day
Why they call me it I do not know
For my name is elisa day
From the first day I saw her I knew she was the one
As she stared in my eyes and smiled
For her lips were the colour of the roses
That grew down the river, all bloody and wild
When he knocked on my door and entered the room
My trembling subsided in his sure embrace
He would be my first man, and with a careful hand
He wiped at the tears that ran down my face
Chorus
On the second day I brought her a flower
She was more beautiful than any woman Id seen
I said, do you know where the wild roses grow
So sweet and scarlet and free?
On the second day he came with a single red rose
Said: will you give me your loss and your sorrow?
I nodded my head, as I lay on the bed
He said, if I show you the roses will you follow?
Chorus
On the third day he took me to the river
He showed me the roses and we kissed
And the last thing I heard was a muttered word
As he stood smiling above me with a rock in his fist
On the last day I took her where the wild roses grow
And she lay on the bank, the wind light as a thief
As I kissed her goodbye, I said, all beauty must die
And lent down and planted a rose between her teeth
Chorus
song performed by by Kylie Minogue
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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