Prophylactic Measures
Wild garlic flowers encompassed
her youthful, porcelaneous
neck as she slumbered in her bed.
Two silver crucifix bracelets
securely fastened to both wrists.
Her rhythmic inspirations heaved
the cleavage between her breasts
that deepened on exhalation.
He stood at the foot of the bed
red eyes peering from dark sockets
on a deathly pale, bat-like face.
A sneer revealed behind blood-red
lips two sharp conical canines
that were rendered useless this night.
Happy Halloween!
poem by Albert Ahearn
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Related quotes
Dark Love
It is a night of darkness, a song of blood,
wolves vent their pain. The dark one
rises.
Evil shrouds her deathly form,
an eternal wrath.
Her raven hair cascades over
pale shoulders, and her
full blood red lips part slightly, to taste the
darkness streaming from the
pale flesh beneath
her.
Now a night of ecstasy,
I remember her.
poem by Halloween Nightmare
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Her Small, Proud Breasts
The gorgeous nymph is gone,
She has left our simple island
Where we played in the sun
And drank sweet wine.
She has taken her delicate wrists
And golden bracelets,
Imparted her last kisses;
But in future nights
When we dream
Of the rhythmic swaying of her hips
And how her small, proud breasts
Left us mesmerized and breathless,
She will also dream
Of our child-like smile
Lost in wondrous adoration.
poem by Uriah Hamilton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Beyond that final blip of breath
Bernstein wept.
Too late.
Fifteen years alive
this beautiful woman
then:
Chained about the neck and wrists
three circles cigarette burned
into her face
raped
eye sockets smashed
finally found
flesh hardly there
only mold merry at the feasting
and the sad tongue pleading mercy
but there was none
in Brooklyn
and at night the dream:
200,00 dead in Darfur
and who dared then to postulate
Heaven or Hell or a heart
without blood
all having been gulped by demons
drunk on murder
singing a tune of their own creation
while the world’s tears
chattered in a thimble.
poem by Charles Chaim Wax
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La Belle Dame Sans Merci
Ah, what can ail thee, wretched wight,
Alone and palely loitering?
The sedge is withered from the lake,
And no birds sing.
Ah, what can ail thee, wretched wight,
So haggard and so woe-begone
The squirrel's granary is full,
And the harvest's done.
I see a lily on thy brow
With anguish moist and fever dew,
And on thy cheek a fading rose
Fast withereth too.
I met a lady in the meads,
Full beautiful, a faery's child:
Her hair was long, her foot was ligh,
And her eyes were wild.
I set her on my pacing steed,
And nothing else saw all day long;
For sideways would she lean, and sing
A faery's song.
I made a garland for her head,
And bracelets too, and fragrant zone;
She looked at me as she did love,
And made sweet moan.
She found me roots of relish sweet,
And honey wild, and manna dew,
And sure in language strange she said,
"I love thee true!"
She took me to her elfin grot,
And there she gazed and sighed deep,
And there I shut her wild, sad eyes---
So kissed to sleep.
And there we slumbered on the moss,
And there I dreamed, ah! woe betide,
The latest dream I ever dreamed
On the cold hill side.
I saw pale kings, and princes too,
Pale warriors, death-pale were they all;
Who cried---"La belle Dame sans merci
Hath thee in thrall!"
I saw their starved lips in the gloam,
With horrid warning gaped wide,
And I awoke and found me here,
On the cold hill side.
And that is why I sojourn here,
Alone and palely loitering,
Though the sedge is withered from the lake,
And no birds sing.
poem by John Keats
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Conceal to reveal
Breasts bare, breasts with bra,
Breasts revealing the cleavage,
Breasts under blouse with bare belly
And breasts with contour visible
Have their appeal up in that order.
The more one is left for imagination
The more the beauty will reveal.
06.12.2006
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Modesty counts
Breasts when hidden add value to the cleavage.
Breasts when hidden make the loins seductive.
Breasts when hidden add poise to the face
Breasts must be hidden to make men erotic.
25.01.2006
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To A Lady Asking Foolish Questions
Why am I sorry, Chloe? Because the moon is far:
And who am I to be straitened in a little earthly star?
Because thy face is fair? And what if it had not been,
The fairest face of all is the face I have not seen.
Because the land is cold, and however I scheme and plot,
I cannot find a ferry to the land where I am not.
Because thy lips are red and thy breasts upbraid the snow?
(There is neither white nor red in the pleasance where I go.)
Because thy lips grow pale and thy breasts grow dun and fall?
I go where the wind blows, Chloe, and am not sorry at all.
poem by Ernest Christopher Dowson
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Moon Howling
Streets quiet
Smoking chimneys
Families prepare
For evening meals
She missed her lift
Alone, walking home
Someone following
Eerie giggles
Fear gripping
Footsteps echoing
Stopped to hear
Looking over shoulder
Only darkness behind
Full moon tonight
Imagination running wild
Stray cat meowing
Hastening steps
Must hurry
To warm safety of home
Passing dark alley
Scuffling figures
Wolf howling
Near forest edge
Tap on shoulder
Sharp intake of breath
Female screaming
Raw fear in throat
Fists clenched
All muscles stiffened
Screams were her own
Stranger standing beside her
Dark piercing eyes staring
Amused at fear on her face
Sharp features
Straight lines of his jaw
Evil in the air
Heart racing in throat
Then he smiled
Showing teeth
Run! Run!
Like statue
Limbs won't move
His long finger sensually tracing
Soft skin of neck
Dank smell of sewers
Bats in trees
Tramp peering over whisky
A scene seen before
Next victim
Still holding breath
Dizzying
Collapsed in arms
Looking up at moon
Fierce ravenous need
Mouth opened wide
To feast on soft neck
Sticky sweetness
Coursing through
Empty existence
Mumbles
Hunter's howls
Teeth dripping
With blood
Feasting complete
Body limp
Few coins thrown
Tramp to discard of corpse
Same scene played every night
23: 09: 12
poem by Persian Khushi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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black as night, Elvyra
Watch out they'll say,
she'll come and get you,
black as night Elvyra,
will take your soul,
leaving you with nothing,
you'll never see another,
as dark and souless as her,
you wait and see,
i know what they'll say of me,
black as night Elvyra
They'll say she dances,
with the devil,
that she plays with fire,
that black as nite Elvyra,
you wait and see,
i know what they'll say of me,
Black as night Elvyra
look at her they'll say,
how dark with doom and gloom,
black as night elvyra,
look at her face,
pale as pale,
her black lips,
her black eyes too,
you wait and see,
i know what they'll say of me,
Black as night Elvyra
skinny and pale they'll say,
with raven black hair to opose,
Black as night Elvyra,
she knows your secrets,
whispers from your depths,
watch out for me,
you wait and see,
I'm Black as night Elvyra
poem by Jess Terry
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2008: I've Got News For You
Words describing the
Sharp silents sounds
Of a single edged razor blade
Slicing through wrist and vein - -
Blank verse summoning sights
Of dark red blood pumping
Into a clutterd sink - -
Is not poetry.
Expaining the blood stains
While cleaning up the mess
With bandaged wrists the next day - -
Is not poetry.
It may be cofessional.
It may diffuse a fire
That was buring out of control.
If anywhere it goes in your diary.
Don't fling your bloody wrists at me
By making up a metaphor.
Until I see the scars,
It is not poetry.
poem by Tom J. Mariani
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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On Halloween
On Halloween the sky was scarred
With full moon stuck, a piercing shard,
Within a hole, the eye of night,
Above the smell of death and fright,
Along a bone laced boulevard.
The corpses, dragged from crypts unbarred,
The flames, they gazed, with pale regard,
At roasting rot, a blood soaked sight...
On Halloween.
The bones, they blanched within the yard,
Again to have their evening marred,
By ghouls and fiends who rip and bite
With claws and fangs which drip delight
While gorging flesh, so slightly charred...
On Halloween.
poem by Terry O'Leary
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What Has Been Revealed
What has been revealed,
Has been revealed.
Even with eyes tightly closed...
What has been revealed,
Has been revealed.
Even with an upturned nose...
What has been revealed,
Has been revealed.
Even with pretensions,
Left to charade.
What has been revealed,
Has been revealed.
Even with the cool-aid made...
What has been revealed,
Has been revealed.
Even with debates...
Created for more time to waste.
What has been revealed,
Has been revealed.
Even those who protest,
Unaccepting with wishes to reject!
What has been revealed,
Has been revealed.
Even the message,
And the messenger to detest!
What has been revealed,
Has been revealed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Tried To Open The Wide Book Of Night
I tried to open wide the book of night
To look into its eyes - like a lover
That pretended of his love confession as of right
And so to Hastings Gardens went I in the night.
Wide, wide before the long night stood
No corner stopped my glance no space
Its boundary showed and manifested
To my glance long tall continous lay the night
In its mischievous slumbering
Wherein it dreamt dreams I know not
Nor thereof heard the silent trees bespeak.
How many nights before me came
How many, many nights
And they were certes here like this night
As I look from the bastions to the sea
And fancy its silver bosom dance and gleam
In the moon’s amorous light to-night:
So gleamed the light on the sea-waves
When the French besieged and held
Our noble city: how many a lover
Stood looking on the sea and at his love
As mid-night in his satined robes tiptoed:
Rippling stood the waves and waters wild
And fancy its silver bosom dance and gleam
In the moon’s amorous light:
For years and years the welcome Briton stood
Perhaps here where stay I and his foot
Could be heard pace all sentinel
Into the dark glooms of silent night
From casements near opening on the seas
And houses nearby in dreaming bent
Through the long night, the long and weary night
That was of many nights that were
And will be of many nights that will
And when I stay not on the bastions and
Feel not the sea-breeze my face cool
Night after night will come and children small
Few years born will come and go:
And after children small will come again
Night after night will come and speak
Unto the rocks that front the sea
And playing with lapping sea-waves all the night
Unheard, unseen, unnoticed in the times
And in the flight of years and centuries full lost
And when night comes and still the sea
Will shine – its silver bosom dance and gleam
In the moon’s amorous light.
poem by Emmanuel George Cefai
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Around My Neck
You wear a crucifix around your neck
Is it in decoration or a sign of your true belief
As around my neck their lies nothing at all,
Because in my heart, lies the love that you cant see.
I proclaim my belief to no one but me
A desire stronger than your crucifix on a chain
And if I could wear that belief around my neck
I would proudly wear it, as my love I’d proclaim.
I wear my belief as if it lies around my neck
As proudly and strongly as any crucifix on a chain
And if it could be removed, forever it would stay
Then you would know that love would always remain.
Around my neck their lies nothing at all
In my heart their lies a need that cannot end
So while the World can see your crucifix on the chain,
Around my heart, there is that love ready to begin.
Around your neck lies a crucifix on a chain
Which can be removed anytime or at any day
It can be a decoration to adorn your looks,
Or it can be an idol so you can worship on or pray.
I look at my belief which hangs around my neck
Though it can be see and held only by me,
And proudly I hold it, and forever I will keep it
Because it is the only belief, that can set me free.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cross ON A Chain
You wear a crucifix around your neck
Is it in decoration or a sign of your true belief
As around my neck their lies nothing at all,
Because in my heart, lies the love that you cant see.
I proclaim my belief to no one but me
A desire stronger than your crucifix on a chain
And if I could wear that belief around my neck
I would proudly wear it, as my love I’d proclaim.
I wear my belief as if it lies around my neck
As proudly and strongly as any crucifix on a chain
And if it could be removed, forever it would stay
Then you would know that love would always remain.
Around my neck their lies nothing at all
In my heart their lies a need that cannot end
So while the World can see your crucifix on the chain,
Around my heart, there is that love ready to begin.
Around your neck lies a crucifix on a chain
Which can be removed anytime or at any day
It can be a decoration to adorn your looks,
Or it can be an idol so you can worship on or pray.
I look at my belief which hangs around my neck
Though it can be see and held only by me,
And proudly I hold it, and forever I will keep it
Because it is the only belief, that can set me free.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Shadows are my sun
Ive fallen in a hole
so deep, dark and cold
No one is there
no one to hold
My eyes are bloodstained
tears and they fall to my
lips
My plams are scratched with
blood, it trickles to my
fingertips
My blood is cold and my veins
are ice and my hair is dark
dark like night
I sit in a dark corner
shadows are my sun
I fare myself,
what have i done
I pick up a mirror
but fail to look
I will only see an unknown
place so i put down,
myself i cannot face.
poem by Nicole Buckland
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Keep It Revealed
Don't be my love,
Only when you feel it.
Feel it wherever you are,
My love.
And wherever you are,
Don't conceal it.
Keep it revealed.
Scented flowers do not stop their scents.
The Sun will always carry its brightness,
When our eyes are closed at night.
The Moon we share is not only there for us.
Nor is the air we breathe,
Awaiting for the trees,
To allow its leaves to feel the breeze.
Don't be my love,
Only when you feel it.
Feel it wherever you are,
My love.
And wherever you are,
Don't conceal it.
Keep it revealed.
Let each touch be meant,
To send tenderness received.
Let our eyes openly communicate,
A connection understood we appreciate,
And in our hearts believe.
Let each kiss ignite that flame,
Never to leap to another's lips.
Let the love made that we make,
Never freeze from the heat we keep.
Don't be my love,
Only when you feel it.
Feel it wherever you are,
My love.
And wherever you are,
Don't conceal it.
Keep it revealed.
Keep it revealed.
Keep it...
Revealed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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First Love
I ne'er was struck before that hour
With love so sudden and so sweet,
Her face it bloomed like a sweet flower
And stole my heart away complete.
My face turned pale as deadly pale.
My legs refused to walk away,
And when she looked, what could I ail?
My life and all seemed turned to clay.
And then my blood rushed to my face
And took my eyesight quite away,
The trees and bushes round the place
Seemed midnight at noonday.
I could not see a single thing,
Words from my eyes did start --
They spoke as chords do from the string,
And blood burnt round my heart.
Are flowers the winter's choice?
Is love's bed always snow?
She seemed to hear my silent voice,
Not love's appeals to know.
I never saw so sweet a face
As that I stood before.
My heart has left its dwelling-place
And can return no more
poem by John Clare
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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In The Dark, Painted Pink
eyes blazing in the dark
do not be slumbered
by sleek black hair
and soft touching
of breath from
ripened lips of red
eyes blazing in the dark
do not fall into sleep's abyss
as gentle touch
fingers promises on brow
with polished nails
pointed painted pink
eyes blazing in the dark
do not drift in dreams
of allures sweet scent
such intoxicates
and dims the wit
of weary men
eyes blazing in the dark
look into souls
and reflect
what is within;
eyes blazing in the dark
poem by David Taylor
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mssing You
NIGHT after night
i shall miss you
pouting lips
sleepy romantic eyes
long smooth neck
soft hands without visible capillaries
warm breasts
and banged hair
night after night
i look forward to your hello
the goodbyes are sad and many
but i do not mind them anymore
one ecstasy
a thousand pains
recycled.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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