To the Memory of Demon
Used to come in the blue
Of the glacier, at night, from Tamara.
With his wingtips he drew
Where the nightmares should boom, where to bar them.
Did not sob, nor entwine
The denuded, the wounded, the ailing…
A stone slab has survived
By the Georgian church, at the railings.
Hunchback shadows, distressed,
Did not dance by the fence of the temple.
Soft, about the princess
The zurna did not question the lamplight,
But the sparks in his hair
Were aglitter and bursting phosphorous,
And the giant did not hear
The dark Caucasus greying for sorrow.
poem by Boris Pasternak
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Related quotes
Dance in the shadows
do you ever think your not good enough,
and that you dont fit in
do you ever think you weak and not tough
and that you cant ever win
So dance in the shadows so no one can see
dance in the shadows and you'll be free
dance in the shadows just to be you
dance in the shadows so your not blue
do you think your always alone
and you want someone there
do you think all your chances have been blown
and that no one cares
So dance in the shadows to let it all out
dance it the shoadows and mess about
dance in the shadows to show that you dont care
dance in the to show you can bear
let them see the real you
prove to them you fine and let it be
show them that your not blue
because you dance in the shadows and you became free
poem by Paige Browning
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I Am Mollie
I am mollie with frizzy hair and princess eyes
I wonder who I'll love when I'm older
I hear school bells and locker doors slamming
I see my sibling growing up
I want to do well in life
I am mollie with frizzy hair and princess eyes
I pretend I am a vampire warrior princess
I feel misunderstood by everyone around me
I touch my little sister's soft hair
I worry about relationships with the people I love
I cry when I think of leaving my family
I am mollie with frizzy hair and princess eyes
I understand that I'll have to grow up sometime
I say that I will eventually, but not now
I dream of becoming a wife, and a mother
I try to be a good daughter
I hope that all dogs go to heaven
I am mollie with frizzy hair and princess eyes
poem by Mollie Myers
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To The Moth
It is dark, and yet alone you flitter hiding from unappreciative eyes
The contrast of the butterfly
soft fragile wings slipping through the dangers of the night
I envy the moth
that dances when the world slumbers
that sits alone on the windowsil under the silent song
of the moon
the brave little winged creature
growing in isolation
a sad reminder of the world
flourishing in the desolation
the perfect company
soft and sweet and silent
to whom
i wisper all my fears and troubles
someday dear moth
i will join you and we will
dance with shadows
and weave dreams from nightmares
whisper secrets
dance together
alone together
poem by Vice Haunt
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At a pan at night
In the dark night I hear horse hoofs
coming on thundering
and there are sparks
bursting from the quartz rocks.
In the sky
there’s a sickle moon
and the hairs
on my arms raise
while blue thunder
fall like shots around me
and I can smell fire and sulphur
on the wind.
For a moment
while a church bell
rings of midnight in the distance,
there’s a horse standing neighing
on its back feet.
Just one look
frightens me past being awake
when another lightning bolt
strikes down next to us
and a horse
with a man without head
passes me at great speed.
In the distance at a ruin
I see an old woman in white
with a shrill voice
cutting through the night.
“Can nothing stop you
Jan van der Meer? ”
[Reference: Die ruiter van skimmelperdpan by A.G. Visser. A legend from the second Anglo-Boer war.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Bom, Boom, Boom, Boom
If you're alone and you need a friend
Someone to make you forget your problems
Just come along baby
Take my hand
I'll be your lover tonight
This is what I wanna do
Let's have some fun
What I want is me and you
Boom boom boom boom
I want you in my room
Let's spend the night together
From now until forever
Boom boom boom boom
I wanna do the boom
Let's spend the night together
Together in my room
Everybody get on down
The Vengaboys are back in town
This is what I wanna do
Let's have some fun
What I want is me and you
Boom boom boom boom
I want you in my room
Let's spend the night together
From now until forever
Boom boom boom boom
I wanna do the boom
Let's spend the night together
Together in my room
Boom boom boom boom
I want you in my room
Let's spend the night together
From now until forever
Boom boom boom boom
I wanna do the boom
Let's spend the night together
Together in my room
Boom boom boom boom
I want you in my room
Let's spend the night together
From now until forever
song performed by by Vengaboys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Children's Hour
Between the dark and the daylight,
When the night is beginning to lower,
Comes a pause in the day's occupation,
That is know as the children's hour.
I hear in the chamber above me
The patter of little feet,
The sound of a door that is opened,
And voices soft and sweet.
From my study I see in the lamplight,
Descending the broad hall stair,
Grave Alice, and laughing Allegra,
And Edith with golden hair.
A whisper and then a silence:
Yet I know by their merry eyes,
They are plotting and planning together,
To take me by surprise.
A sudden rush from the stairway,
A sudden raid from the hall!
By three doors left unguarded
They enter my castle wall!
They climb up into my turret
O'er the arms and back of my chair;
If I try to escape, they surround me,
They seem to be everywhere.
They almost devour me with kisses,
Their arms about me entwine,
Till I think of the Bishop of Bingen
In his Mouse-Tower on the Rhine!
Do you think, O blue-eyed banditti,
Because you have scaled the wall,
Such an old mustache as I am
Is not a match for you all?
I have you fast in my fortress
And will not let you depart,
But put you down in the dungeon
In the round-tower of my heart.
And there will I keep you forever,
Yes, forever and a day,
Till the walls shall crumble to ruin,
And moulder in dust away!
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Statistically Speaking
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
Statistically speaking.
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
Statistically speaking.
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
Statistically speaking.
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
Statistically speaking.
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
From the viewpoint of a human being...
I detect us humans,
Are the least important things,
On this Earth.
And the water, grass and trees...
Are the 'real' things,
Mother Nature wishes more to treat!
I perceive our existence here,
Is not so high on the list.
Since we are an experiment.
Even though we choose to think of ourselves,
As the center of the universe.
And here to live in a permanence!
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
Statistically speaking.
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
Statistically speaking.
We leech and feed,
Off what nature offers.
We know nothing but conflict!
And this chaos we foster.
There are laws created to discriminate.
Yet we discuss things loved...
And show how much we despise and hate.
We infiltrate and pillage,
Lands where others live.
We take without thought.
Causing blood to shed.
And worship heartache.
As we lay alone sleepless in our beds!
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
With faith we fake brotherhood!
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
Believing prayer delivers escape!
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
And cry like spoiled children!
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
With no guilt of remorse to eliminate...
The taste of life,
Made of just frosted cake!
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
Statistically speaking.
We treat ourselves and others like sheep!
To fleece the wool.
Because we're full of bull!
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
Statistically speaking.
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
Statistically speaking.
We take without thought.
Causing blood to shed.
And worship heartache.
As we lay alone,
Sleepless in our beds!
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
Yes!
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
Yes!
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
Yes!
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
Statistically speaking.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Tamara Princess of Satira
I walk; carry the weight of the sands, dust particles of gold
Beneath, lay the tomb, resurrected in chamber of seven
Headed snake, guarding the abandoned soul of Princess Tamara
From Hanaring, the city of guardian angel
Her eyes full of killer’s instinct, bewildered with terror
Her walk creates the sound of ancient Jazz, symphonized
By the ruthless pharaohs, costumed in satire silk
When the moon shines on her flawless black hair,
An unwanted eclipse, overshadows every man’s heart
Zanatic climbs on every mind that sleeps
With velvet dream, wet by salty lips
The beat of drums, summoned by rushes of adrenalin
Ruins mellow hearts, starving for infinite orgasms
Hurricane halts, as Tamara blows her exile away
And drifting right to the laps of Prince Charming
City of Hanaring, once again echoed with satirical harp
That trounces and trances the lost souls, drown
In the river of Babylon
“Tamara, Tamara, Tamara, the Fauna and Flora,
Princess of Satira”
The royalties and commoners, chanting
“Hanaring is no longer crying, but dancing”
Prince Charming kneels before her
With jagged smile and a husky voice, he utters
“I’m here to feed your soul, with my gray heart
That turns red, when fed by yours”
In a brisk lightning of serenade vows
Murmur in silence pale
From dusk to dawn
Even Vampires, cease drinking blood
In respect of the Twosome
Tamara from Hanaring
The roaring...…
Princess
And the Prince Charming
poem by Sulaiman Mohd Yusof
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Dapper Dan
I got rhythm and a whole lot of soul
I can dance I can shake it baby (he can dance)
Im just a little country boy
Harmonica in my hand I got soulful rhythm in me
Im a get down dancin man
Shalalala boom boom
My name is dapper dan
Shalalala boom boom
Im a dancin man yeah
Im gonna be king of the disco tech
Thats where I can be found
Master of ?
Ive got the fastest feet around
Shalalala boom boom
My name is dapper dan
Shalalala boom boom
Im a dancin man yeah
Do it do it lets do it do it
Get up on the floor
Lets do it do it dance what you wanta
Lets dance dance with me
I like the way you shake it (twice)
I like the way you move it
song performed by by Michael Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sorrow
With your long blonde hair and your eyes of blue
The only thing I ever got from you was sorrow
Sorrow
You acted funny trying to spend my money
Youre out there playing your high class games of sorrow
Sorrow
You never do what you know you oughta
Something tells me youre a devils daughter
Sorrow, sorrow
Ahhhh, oo, oooo
I tried to find her
cause I cant resist her (I tried to find her)
I never knew just how much I missed her
Sorrow
Sorrow
With your long blonde hair and your eyes of blue
The only thing I ever got from you was sorrow
Sorrow
Oh-oh-oh-oh
Oh-oh-oh, ho-ho
With your long blonde hair
I couldnt sleep last night
With your long blonde hair
Hu hu hu
Hu hu hu yeah
Hu hu hu
Hu hu hu yeah
Hu hu hu
Hu hu hu yeah
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Into The Happy New Year (Catena Rondo)
There was some rain earlier in this dark night,
outside rockets again do whoosh and thump
in through the open window the cat jumps,
there was some rain earlier in this dark night;
outside rockets continually whoosh and thump,
crackers go bam, bam, ka-boom and ka-boom
dogs bark in fear, howl hysteric outside my room
outside rockets continually whoosh and thump,
crackers go bam, bam, ka-boom and ka-boom
and it is old year’s day that’s almost gone
while the brand New Year is now rushing on,
crackers go bam, bam, ka-boom and ka-boom
and it is old year’s day that’s almost gone
at half-past eleven the neighbours celebrate
a new message my cell-phone indicate
and it is old year’s day that’s almost gone,
at half-past eleven the neighbours celebrate
while they jollily loudly dance and sing
and with their music my ears do ring
at half-past eleven the neighbours celebrate
while they jollily loudly dance and sing
as if the New Year does hold something great
and not a moment longer they can wait,
while they jollily loudly dance and sing
as if the New Year does hold something great;
very later things quiet somewhat down
and in sleep I am coming to my own,
as if the New Year does hold something great
very later things quiet somewhat down
until at three a car hoots across the street
as if it wants the neighbourhood to meet,
very later things quiet somewhat down
until at three a car hoots across the street,
as if all my resolutions and patience to test,
the dogs, the cat and I get some rest
until at three a car hoots across the street,
as if all my resolutions and patience to test
before a thunderbolt crashes electric blue,
blazing at my eyes with its terrible white hue
as if all my resolutions and patience to test,
before a thunderbolt crashes electric blue
there was some rain earlier in this dark night,
people laugh at the car’s bright lights
before a thunderbolt crashes electric blue;
there was some rain earlier in this dark night,
outside rockets again do whoosh and thump,
in through the open window the cat jumps,
there was some rain earlier in this dark night.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Down in the dark
Down in the dark, it’s all in my head,
The pain the sorrow, all of the dread,
I want it to leave, but it wants to stay,
I try and I try, but he won’t go away,
There by day, there at night,
Saying the things, that fills me with fright,
I’m down in the dark, it fills my head,
The pain the sorrow, all of the dread,
He’s always around, lurking inside,
Watching; waiting, my hands are tied,
In my head, always near,
In my thoughts, building the fear,
Down in the dark, filling my head,
The pain the sorrow, all of the dread,
The pain; it grows, bursting within,
The dark; he’s back, with his terror filled grin,
“I’ll help”; he says, talking to me,
“I know what to do, just come and see, ”
Down in the dark, it filled my head,
The pain the sorrow, all of the dread,
My thoughts are violent, with sorrow in my chest,
I just close my eyes, and hope for the best,
He tells me good job, I’ll find the light,
But my life is ending, with the chill of the night.,
Dead in the dark, lost in my head,
No more pain or sorrow, not even dread….,
poem by Jacob Hill
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Sorrow blue
Of sorrow blue, and life in the mist
Nights in the shadows of a dream
Of sorrow blue, I’m losing the rest
Of my life, drowned in the stream
With the sunset that bites my heart
I can not help but to feel alone & cold
Of sorrow blue, I am just a part
I’m not me, to the dark my soul was sold
In sorrow and blues, hours like days
Like year, years as salty as our tears
Rusted faces form old lives, in many ways
Reminds me of lost hopes and living fears
Sorrow blue, moments before the dawn
That is when we part ways like old friends
With the sunrise, I am no longer a pawn
For my sorrow, no longer worried about the ends
Every day there is a Rendez-Vous
With my inner self and my eternal fall
With the other me, my sorrow blue
Every day, I will pick up the sorrow’s call
poem by Haytem Fakroun
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The Hunchback in the Park
The hunchback in the park
A solitary mister
Propped between trees and water
From the opening of the garden lock
That lets the trees and water enter
Until the Sunday sombre bell at dark
Eating bread from a newspaper
Drinking water from the chained cup
That the children filled with gravel
In the fountain basin where I sailed my ship
Slept at night in a dog kennel
But nobody chained him up.
Like the park birds he came early
Like the water he sat down
And Mister they called Hey mister
The truant boys from the town
Running when he had heard them clearly
On out of sound
Past lake and rockery
Laughing when he shook his paper
Hunchbacked in mockery
Through the loud zoo of the willow groves
Dodging the park keeper
With his stick that picked up leaves.
And the old dog sleeper
Alone between nurses and swans
While the boys among willows
Made the tigers jump out of their eyes
To roar on the rockery stones
And the groves were blue with sailors
Made all day until bell time
A woman figure without fault
Straight as a young elm
Straight and tall from his crooked bones
That she might stand in the night
After the locks and chains
All night in the unmade park
After the railings and shrubberies
The birds the grass the trees the lake
And the wild boys innocent as strawberries
Had followed the hunchback
To his kennel in the dark.
poem by Dylan Thomas
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Blue Me
Blue me, blue me
Blue is the color
That fits best on me
Im blue
Just as blue as can be
Blue me, blue me
I cry
And I die
I lie awake at night
And I question why
Must it be
I can never be free
Blue me, blue me
My heart is heavy
But its empty inside
No one to love me
Or to lay down beside
Im blue
The queen of sorrow
Wears royal blue
My luck aint changin
Is it ever goin to
Im blue, oh Im blue
Why must I wear this robe of blue misery
Blue me, blue me
Ooh
This sad old feeling
Is breakin me down
No satisfaction with these blues hangin round
Lord, Im blue
Oh, Im so blue
Why cant I shake it tell me where will this end
When will I get out of this blue rut Im in
Oh, Im blue
Looks like the blues just took a liking to me
Blue me, blue me
Blue me, blue me
Blue is the color that fits best on me
Ooooh, Im blue
Im just as blue as can be
Blue me,
Blue me
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Bursting of the Boom
The shipping-office clerks are ‘short,’ the manager is gruff—
‘They cannot make reductions,’ and ‘the fares are low enough.’
They ship us West with cattle, and we go like cattle too;
And fight like dogs three times a day for what we get to chew. . . .
We’ll have the pick of empty bunks and lots of stretching room,
And go for next to nothing at the Bursting of the Boom.
So wait till the Boom bursts!—we’ll all get a show:
Then when the Boom bursts is our time to go.
We’ll meet ’em coming back in shoals, with looks of deepest gloom,
But we’re the sort that battle through at the Bursting of the Boom.
The captain’s easy-going when Fremantle comes in sight;
He can’t say when you’ll get ashore—perhaps tomorrow night;
Your coins are few, the charges high; you must not linger here—
You’ll get your boxes from the hold when she’s ‘longside the pier.’
The launch will foul the gangway, and the trembling bulwarks loom
Above a fleet of harbour craft—at the Bursting of the Boom.
So wait till the Boom bursts!—we’ll all get a show;
He’ll ‘take you for a bob, sir,’ and where you want to go.
He’ll ‘take the big portmanteau, sir, if he might so presume’—
You needn’t hump your luggage at the Bursting of the Boom.
It’s loafers—Customs-loafers—and you pay and pay again;
They hinder you and cheat you from the gangway to the train;
The pubs and restaurants are full—they haven’t room for more;
They charge us each three shillings for a shakedown on the floor;
But, ‘Show this gentleman upstairs—the first front parlour room.
‘We’ll see about your luggage, sir’—at the Bursting of the Boom.
So wait till the Boom bursts!—we’ll all get a show;
And wait till the Boom bursts, and swear mighty low.
‘We mostly charge a pound a week. How do you like the room?’
And ‘Show this gentleman the bath’—at the Bursting of the Boom.
I go down to the timber-yard (I cannot face the rent)
To get some strips of oregon to frame my hessian tent;
To buy some scraps of lumber for a table or a shelf:
The boss comes up and says I might just look round for myself ;
The foreman grunts and turns away as silent as the tomb—
The boss himself will wait on me at the Bursting of the Boom.
So wait till the Boom bursts!—we’ll all get a load.
‘You had better take those scraps, sir, they’re only in the road.’
‘Now, where the hell’s the carter?’ you’ll hear the foreman fume;
And, ‘Take that timber round at once!’ at the Bursting of the Boom.
Each one-a-penny grocer, in his box of board and tin,
Will think it condescending to consent to take you in;
And not content with twice as much as what is just and right,
They charge and cheat you doubly, for the Boom is at its height.
It’s‘Take it now or leave it now;’ ‘your money or your room;’
But ‘Who’s attending Mr. Brown?’ at the Bursting of the Boom.
So wait till the Boom bursts!—and take what you can get,
‘There’s not the slightest hurry, and your bill ain’t ready yet.’
They’ll call and get your orders until the crack o’ doom,
And send them round directly, at the Bursting of the Boom.
No Country and no Brotherhood—such things are dead and cold;
A camp from all the lands or none, all mad for love of gold ;
Where T’othersider number one makes slave of number two,
And the vilest women of the world the vilest ways pursue;
And men go out and slave and bake and die in agony
In western hells that God forgot, where never man should be.
I feel a prophet in my heart that speaks the one word ‘Doom!’
And aye you’ll hear the Devil laugh at the Bursting of the Boom.
poem by Henry Lawson
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Forests of autumn
I see her, by the lamplight; waiting,
I watch her from the shadows, so dark,
Her hair; ruffled by the soft autumn breeze,
Shining; as gold in the forests of autumn,
Eyes sparkling, so dark, so brown,
As the brown, in the forests of autumn.
Her hand traces slowly; a pattern,
through the mist, falling gently, softly,
onto the mirror she holds, reflecting starlight,
Into her eyes.
She is waiting; like a girl for her first love,
Waiting nervously; .... waiting for me,
So pretty, so wonderful, so shy, so..! ,
The lamplight still shines; but she has gone,
Into the shadows of time.
No pattern traced her mirror, no mirror did I see,
No; .... No one.
The wind blows colder, from the forests of autumn,
I walk; alone, in the silence,
Thinking, ..Remembering,
She died two years ago.
Moonlight steals slowly,
across the sands where I sit,
The sea, speaks with murmurs on the rocks,
On the shore; ..deserted,
The wind of autumn whispers, across the sailors graves,
Free of lifes worries, ... free of lifes joys,
I listen to the murmurings; Alone,
In this eerie solitude.
I turn and feel, sea spray upon the wind,
in my hair; ..against my cheek,
My eyes taste the salt; .. though closed;
Of my tears
Quietness descends; .. like an angels cloak,
Can that angel; ..be her of my pain, my tears,
For she has died,
My tears are touched......and dried,
By the wind; from the forests of autumn.
poem by Laurie hill
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Boom Boom
Boom boom boom boom
Is the sound your heart makes
When your relaxed, calm and at ease
Boom boom boom boom
Is the sound of your life beating away
Boom boom boom boom
Is the thing we hold close
because without it we are heartless
Bom bom bom bom bom bom bom
Is the sound of your heart
When your speeding, playing, or fighting
It's the sound of your heart
When you pop the question to your one and only love
Bom bom bom bom bom bom bom
Is the sound of your heart
When your looking into someone's dying eyes
Bom bom bom bom bom bom bom
Is the sound of your heart
When you're facing death yourself
How is it that the same feeling of adrenaline and happiness
Makes your heart beat the same way when you are scared and afraid
How is it possible for something that we are unable to live without cause us both sadness and happiness
People say that the brain is the strongest muscle in your body
Because without it we will not be able to live a normal life
But I don't believe so because if your heart is able to withstand all those emotions I think that the heart would be considered the strongest muscle in your body
Because without a heart you (find something)
Because no matter what happens it just keeps on Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom
poem by Ahmed Elbadri
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The Wounded Wind
the wounded wind
spirited messages
she does send
disturb not the bark of this tree
ancient soul
it does speak to me
disturb not the pureness of this stream
trickling tears
it does haunt my dreams
the wounded wind sighs
ghostly shadows still dance before her eyes
the wounded wind cries
like the coyote who splits the silence of night howling at the moon
Warning, the wrath of the wounded wind will be upon us soon
poem by by unknown author
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Summer At Night
We dance under the nascent moon
delicate twirls, eye twinkles
and tree shadows
far away horns blowing
and I
take your hand;
delicately
placed lips
linger there
as soft
soft breaths
straddle index
and ring fingers
and you quiver quietly.
I hear the night owl hoot
musical strains
from the dance
sail out to us
offering a caress
to eager ears
buffeted by Jasmine perfumes
intoxicating
recklessly
heart fibers
which only come out
for brilliant moon-stars
under magnolia trees
where fireflies
in the Carolina night
dance to light heavens lights
and I
allow my soul to
brush across
your summer nape
like a softly shooting star
descending into your hair's drape
where I breathe deeply
of its fragrances
and those of the fire-fly night
as you shudder into
me
breasts erect
offering too
their loving caress
and I
smell you
like summer
at night.
You whisper to me that you want to have a baby, my baby.
To be continued.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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