Music
This shape without space,
This pattern without stuff,
This stream without dimension
Surrounds us, flows through us,
But leaves no mark.
This message without meaning,
These tears without eyes
This laughter without lips
Speaks to us but does not
Disclose its clue.
These waves without sea
Surge over us, smooth us.
These hands without fingers
Close-hold us, caress us.
These wings without birds
Strong-lift us, would carry us
If only the one thread broke.
Submitted by Stephen Fryer
poem by Arthur Seymour John Tessimond
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ode To Boy
When he moves I watch him from behind
He turns and laughter flickers in his eyes
Intent and direct when he speaks, I watch his lips
And when he drives I love to watch his hand
White and smooth almost feminine, almost american, I have to watch him.
(chorus)
In his face age descends on youth, exaggeration on the truth
He caught me looking then but soon his eyes forgot
And everything he seems to do reflects just another shade of blue
I saw him searching into you and ached a while
I watch his lips caress the glass,
His fingers stroke its stem and pass
To lift a cigarette at last, he dries his eyes
From a shadow by the stair
I watch as he weeps unaware
That Im in awe of his despair, but I am there
(chorus repeat)
song performed by by Yaz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ode To Boy
When he moves I watch him from behind
He turns and laughter flickers in his eyes
Intent and direct when he speaks, I watch his lips
And when he drives I love to watch his hand
White and smooth almost feminine, almost american, I have to watch him.
(chorus)
In his face age descends on youth, exaggeration on the truth
He caught me looking then but soon his eyes forgot
And everything he seems to do reflects just another shade of blue
I saw him searching into you and ached a while
I watch his lips caress the glass,
His fingers stroke its stem and pass
To lift a cigarette at last, he dries his eyes
From a shadow by the stair
I watch as he weeps unaware
That Im in awe of his despair, but I am there
(chorus repeat)
song performed by by Yaz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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O
Old women look intently at Nothing when the doctor
announces a cancer, dark fruit, under the
shrunk left breast.
Girls' hands hold Nothing when the train sucks their
men from the platform and scoops them down the
slipway of rail.
Nothing beats in deafened ears on the empty and
godless altars of mountain tops.
Nothing is the final strength of the strong: the
last poison on the crumpling lips of the weak.
Submitted by Stephen Fryer
poem by Arthur Seymour John Tessimond
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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June Sick Room
The birds' shrill fluting
Beats on the pink blind,
Pierces the pink blind
At whose edge fumble the sun's
Fingers till one obtrudes
And stirs the thick motes.
The room is a close box of pink warmth.
The minutes click.
A man picks across the street
With a metal-pointed stick.
Three clocks drop each twelve pennies
On the drom of noon.
The birds end.
A child's cry pricks the hush.
The wind plucks at a leaf.
The birds rebegin.
Submitted by Stephen Fryer
poem by Arthur Seymour John Tessimond
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Epilogue
"Why can't you say what you mean straight out in prose?"
Well, say it yourself: then say "It's that, but more,
Or less perhaps, or not that way, or not
That after all." The meaning of a song
Might be an undernote; this tree might mean
That leaf as much as trunk, branch, other leaves.
And does one know till one begins? And let's
Look over hedges far as eyesight lets us,
Since road's not, surely, road, but road and hedge
And feet and sky and smell of hawthorn, horse-dung.
Submitted by Stephen Fryer
poem by Arthur Seymour John Tessimond
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Tube Station
The tube lift mounts,
sap in a stem,
And blossoms its load,
a black, untidy rose.
The fountain of the escalator
curls at the crest,
breaks and scatters
A winnow of men,
a sickle of dark spray.
Submitted by Stephen Fryer
poem by Arthur Seymour John Tessimond
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Don Juan
Under the lips and limbs, the embraces, faces,
Under the sharp circumference, the brightness,
Under the fence of shadows,
Is something I am seeking;
Under the faces a face,
Under the new an old or a not-yet-come-to;
Under the voices a peace.
Am I a darkness all your flames must light?
A mirror all your eyes must look into -
That dares not yet reflect the neutral sky,
The empty eye of the sky?
Submitted by Stephen Fryer
poem by Arthur Seymour John Tessimond
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Empty Room
The clock disserts on punctuation, syntax.
The clock's voice, thin and dry, asserts, repeats.
The clock insists: a lecturer demonstrating,
Loudly, with finger raised, when the class has gone.
But time flows through the room, light flows through the room
Like someone picking flowers, like someone whistling
Without a tune, like talk in front of a fire,
Like a woman knitting or a child snipping at paper.
Submitted by Stephen Fryer
poem by Arthur Seymour John Tessimond
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Meeting
Dogs take new friends abruptly and by smell,
Cats' meetings are neat, tactual, caressive.
Monkeys exchange their fleas before they speak.
Snakes, no doubt, coil by coil reach mutual knowledge.
We then, at first encounter, should be silent;
Not court the cortex but the epidermis;
Not work from inside out but outside in;
Discover each other's flesh, its scent and texture;
Familiarize the sinews and the nerve-ends,
The hands, the hair - before the inept lips open.
Instead of which we are resonant, explicit.
Our words like windows intercept our meaning.
Our four eyes fence and flinch and awkwardly
Wince into shadow, slide oblique to ambush.
Hands stir, retract. The pulse is insulated.
Blood is turned inwards, lonely; skin unhappy ...
While always under all, but interrupted,
Antennae stretch ... waver ... and almost ... touch.
Submitted by Stephen Fryer
poem by Arthur Seymour John Tessimond
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Come With Me
Ill try to make the sunshine
Brighter for you
Now were leaving beautiful
Theres a tear in your eyes
After all is said
After all is done
Ill do anything for you
Come with me
Close your eyes
Hold my hands and feel alright
Dont be scared
Dont be shy
Lift your head
Its gonna be alright
Ill try to make the star shine
Brighter for you
And Ill take you in the shoulder
Holding you way up high
I even chase the rainbow
Handed it in the sky
After all is said
After all is done
Ill do anything for you
Come with me
Close your eyes
Hold my hands
Itll be alright
Dont be scared
Dont be shy
Lift your head
Its gonna be alright
Through the eyes of innocence
You will find
You will see
Theyll come in time all make sense
And you wont know
That it will show inside
Deep inside
Come with me
Close your eyes
Hold my hands
Itll be alright
Dont be scared
Dont be shy
Lift your head
Its gonna be alright
Ill try to make the days last longer for you
From the daybreak to the sunset to the end of time
Ill keep you safe away from the hurting
Cause when all is said
When all is done
Ill do anything for you
Come with me
Close your eyes
Hold my hands
Itll be alright
Dont be scared
Dont be shy
Lift your head
Its gonna be alright
Come with me
Close your eyes
Hold my hands
Itll be alright
Dont be scared
Dont be shy
Lift your head
Its gonna be alright
song performed by by Phil Collins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Near Yet So Far Away
you are just a breath
away from my
face. My fingers want
to jump off
my hands to
run over you
and indulge
in the lust of touch
and caress
my tongue wants
to run away
with your lips
my thigh
trembles beside
your hands
you are so near
yet
something holds
me away from you
(how can i
ever explain it?)
as i take
a glance, for the last
time at you
beside the glass window
of the car
i finally look down
and wish that
i kiss your feet
(i am in a
quandary between
shame and
satiation)
so near and
yet so far, i close
my eyes
and travel
inside my veins
my blood pumps
up and says
be good
take care as i leave
you are so
far now,
at the end,
at a certain edge
even the hands of my dreams
shy away
to hold and kiss
your shadow
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dance Away
Theres a hidden meaning in everything he says, every close encounter, every kiss, every caress. even the truth has got that bitter taste of a lie. well, I can read his lips but I cant read his
.
I can see him dance away now oh oh - oh oh oh.
He was one of the kind that seems so hard to find. theres a change of weather, now he leaves me far behind. that I dont matter to him came as such a surprise. well, I can read his lips, I thou
Read his eyes.
And I can see him...
song performed by by Roxette
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When You Are Near Me
when you are near me
i become tongue-
tied, and i am lost
in the maze of
my desire, my groins
pulsate, wanting to move
nearer, my hands are ready
posing to hold, my neck bends
a little giving in to the
incantations of my mouth
move closer, move closer
smell, kiss, taste, caress,
hold, embrace, do not shy away,
be the man you want to be,
break the law, there is always
a kind and gentle justification,
love has its own reasons,
the heart speaks & understands
the mind becomes so silent and giving
my blood rises my cartilages
stiffens, my arms grow strong,
my lips are wet, my teeth
wanting to chew, my throat
swallows a load of fluid,
i am thirsty, i am hungry, for you
what a shame, my whole body rebels
my eyes are shedding tears, my hands
slap my cheeks, my calf surrenders and suddenly runs,
with my ankle and my knees
all my feet walk away
this is not for me, and i am not me.
my will is strong, my head stands high,
i go away, breathe deeply,
and heave a sigh.Thanks, i say at the end.
i am strong. I did not do any wrong.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Across The Miles
When Im all alone on a distant path
And my ticket home has been torn in half
Oh, I can hear your voice, girl I can feel your touch
Across the miles tonight
On the road again, will it always be
That the dream gets changed on its way to reality
Oh, but the thought of you, strange how it pulls me through
Across the miles tonight
And I am sending you this message through the wires tonight
Just close your eyes and hold on tight
And here I am, concentrating girl with all my might
Now the sound of your laughter trails off through the midnight sky
As the miles go by, cities come and go
When you close your eyes and listen to the radio
Girl, can you hear my song, the signal is clear and strong
Across the miles tonight
And I am sending you this message through the wires tonight
Just close your eyes and hold on tight
And here I am, concentrating girl with all my might
Now the sound of your laughter trails off
Across the miles
song performed by by Survivor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Across The Miles
When Im all alone on a distant path
And my ticket home
Has been torn in half
Oh, I can hear your voice girl
I can feel your touch
Across the miles tonight
On the road again will it always be
That the dream has changed
On its way to reality
Oh but the thought of you
Strange how it pulls me through
Across the miles tonight
And I am sending you this message
Through the wires tonight
Just close your eyes and hold on tight
And here I am concentrating girl
With all my might
Now the sound of your laughter
Trails off through the midnight sky
As the miles go by cities come and go
When you close your eyes
And listen to the radio
Girl can you hear my song
The signal is clear and strong
Across the miles tonight
And I am sending you this message
Through the wires tonight
Just close your eyes and hold on tight
And here I am concentrating girl
With all my might
Now the sound of your laughter
Trails off across the miles
song performed by by Uriah Heep
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pre-Existence
I laid me down upon the shore
And dreamed a little space;
I heard the great waves break and roar;
The sun was on my face.
My idle hands and fingers brown
Played with the pebbles grey;
The waves came up, the waves went down,
Most thundering and gay.
The pebbles, they were smooth and round
And warm upon my hands,
Like little people I had found
Sitting among the sands.
The grains of sands so shining-small
Soft through my fingers ran;
The sun shone down upon it all,
And so my dream began:
How all of this had been before;
How ages far away
I lay on some forgotten shore
As here I lie to-day.
The waves came shining up the sands,
As here to-day they shine;
And in my pre-pelasgian hands
The sand was warm and fine.
I have forgotten whence I came,
Or what my home might be,
Or by what strange and savage name
I called that thundering sea.
I only know the sun shone down
As still it shines to-day,
And in my fingers long and brown
The little pebbles lay.
poem by Frances Darwin Cornford
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The fruits on the table
I love the papayas
Spread on the table
Reddish orange papayas
Plump and Smooth to my
Hands
And some purple grapes
Sweet pulp
Luscious to my
Lips
Some rambutans
Hairy fruits in red
Tickling to my
Fingers
Pungent durian
Tasting like
Heaven to
My mind
They are all spread on
The table
And I would caress smooth
Reddish papayas with
My bare hands
Put a grape in my mouth
And my tongue
Does the savoring of
Juicy rambutans
My lips close in
To a juicy roundness
As I breathe on some
Red hairs
Of this magical luscious fruit
The durian is opened
And the taste of heaven
Comes to my mind
With eyes closed as
Though I own all the passions
Of this world
When we were young and
Crazy about ourselves
I laid her on the table
And spread herself there
She was all those kinds of
Fruits to me and I was the
Hands, the mouth, the lips,
The tongue
The stomach that swallowed her all
Every bit that was juicy
Every freshness every plumpness
She was all fruits to me
She was all nature giving in, all over
To the passions of this fruit lover.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cocoon For A Skeleton
Clothes: to compose
The furtive, lone
Pillar of bone
To some repose.
To let hands shirk
Utterance behind
A pocket's blind
Deceptive smirk.
To mask, belie
The undue haste
Of breast for breast
Or thigh for thigh.
To screen, conserve
The pose, when death
Half strips the sheath
And leaves the nerve.
To edit, glose
Lyric desire
And slake its fire
In polished prose.
Submitted by Stephen Fryer
poem by Arthur Seymour John Tessimond
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Hands of the Betrothed
Her tawny eyes are onyx of thoughtlessness,
Hardened they are like gems in ancient modesty;
Yea, and her mouth’s prudent and crude caress
Means even less than her many words to me.
Though her kiss betrays me also this, this only
Consolation, that in her lips her blood at climax clips
Two wild, dumb paws in anguish on the lonely
Fruit of my heart, ere down, rebuked, it slips.
I know from her hardened lips that still her heart is
Hungry for me, yet if I put my hand in her breast
She puts me away, like a saleswoman whose mart is
Endangered by the pilferer on his quest.
But her hands are still the woman, the large, strong hands
Heavier than mine, yet like leverets caught in steel
When I hold them; my still soul understands
Their dumb confession of what her sort must feel.
For never her hands come nigh me but they lift
Like heavy birds from the morning stubble, to settle
Upon me like sleeping birds, like birds that shift
Uneasily in their sleep, disturbing my mettle.
How caressingly she lays her hand on my knee,
How strangely she tries to disown it, as it sinks
In my flesh and bone and forages into me,
How it stirs like a subtle stoat, whatever she thinks!
And often I see her clench her fingers tight
And thrust her fists suppressed in the folds of her skirt;
And sometimes, how she grasps her arms with her bright
Big hands, as if surely her arms did hurt.
And I have seen her stand all unaware
Pressing her spread hands over her breasts, as she
Would crush their mounds on her heart, to kill in there
The pain that is her simple ache for me.
Her strong hands take my part, the part of a man
To her; she crushes them into her bosom deep
Where I should lie, and with her own strong span
Closes her arms, that should fold me in sleep.
Ah, and she puts her hands upon the wall,
Presses them there, and kisses her bright hands,
Then lets her black hair loose, the darkness fall
About her from her maiden-folded bands.
And sits in her own dark night of her bitter hair
Dreaming—God knows of what, for to me she’s the same
Betrothed young lady who loves me, and takes care
Of her womanly virtue and of my good name.
poem by David Herbert Lawrence
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Eyeful Bliss
What is it that speaks, before lips can say,
Or caress and feel, before hands can touch,
Stabs without daggers, without swords can slay,
And betrays a love, once there is so much?
It bares the soul, and manifests sorrow,
Radiates the glow of joy, aura of mirth,
Even through pretenses, it could burrow;
Pray, tell, how is Beauty, to sightless birth?
Perhaps, blinds do not miss what they can't see,
They could not lose what is not their's before,
Pity them, not knowing how to be free,
To soar like birds, towards heavenly lore;
.........Is there much wastage, to wings without flight,
.........Equal to half that of eyes without sight?
poem by Reyvrex Questor Reyes
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