Silvery eyes
Sivery eyes, twisted mouth
Charred skins
Body amidst bodies
Like roosted ants
They lay, oblivious
Of souls, sympathy sickened
Fuel pipeline had burst
Them, fire had swallowed
History, them had made
The corpse
Eyes not closed
Cold with silvery stare
Soul in need
Earth, to the living
Had we, done nothing?
poem by Charles Jagongo Ogola
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Related quotes
Fire or fuel
Siddhartha turned Lord Buddha.
Which made him so: soul or body?
Cleopatra grew a beauty queen.
Which made her so: soul or body?
Alexander the Great had been great.
Which made him so: soul or body?
Which is the cause of one’s straits?
Ghee burns; corpse burns.
Which gives odour: fire or fuel?
16.05.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Angel Eyes
Those eyes of an angel
Made strangers feel easy
In the dark irises
Goodness lived completly
Those eyes of an angel
Made heaven's wonders collide
Radiated the sun
Oh, those angel eyes!
Those eyes of an angel
Complimented her dark hair
The coils and strands
Drew in many a stare
Those eyes of an angel
Were so often understood
And I stared at them so long
Before they closed for good
Those eyes of an angel
Pierced my soul to its core
And though I'd stare for hours
I'd want to see them more
And still I dream of their dark streams
That never relvealed their end
I mourn and pray that one day
My eyes find hers again
Though mine aren't as beautiful
I inherited them, I see
Oh, but I miss those angel eyes
That use to stare at me
poem by Whitney Albright
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Woman Is Fire
There was a time when Woman went out of house, house of wax was left by Woman, Woman with waxen complexion I was, I was fiery Woman, Woman's body was a wax, Woman's eyes a flammable paraffin, what Woman's mouth was: withered red apples when Woman was fired out of house. House was invisible when Woman took a fire lamp and went to cheer in the smell of fallen apples, scattered around house, our moldy house. In the cold night Woman molded her body in a candle mould to revive old fire and saw Man that gathered apple stalks from moldy apple trees. It was a lonely man, Man that made a fire with waxed paper and moldering apple stalks. Man that sat outdoors on a moldy wooden bench by that fire and drunk applejack.
Woman saw Man, Man that felt Woman's looks through apple shaped embers bursting out of fire when wet apple leaves dried. Fire was a necessity for Man, for Man made his living being a fire-eater. The fire-eater wanted fire that gives birth, of fireworks, exploding fire. Man moved a long green apple stalk through fire to burn fire more. Man took a dropp and swallowed it. Man took another dropp and spat it into the fire. Suddenly Man realized what he needed and waxed on a piece of paper: fire must drink applejack for fire is becoming moldy, and he spat what he drunk mingled with apple-tasting spit. House is moldy too, Woman remembered and woman's heart became a rotten apple.. Fire was quenching as Woman closed her eyelids, apple peels, longing for house. House may be moldy, but house is not empty. Woman molded house the like, house full of candle lights and fireflies. Woman left Man's fire quenched and remained an apple scented candle. House melts easily and hardens quickly, Woman too. Woman abandoned Man not to be melt. That is old fire in Woman, as she stalks on apple waxed earth toward house.
poem by Afrodita Nikolova
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Twisted Souls
Twisted souls
covered in pain-engraved festers
devoured in darkness
Eroded away from maked-hatred
Past falls from your eyes
like blood, ruby danced, tears
your eyes stare endlessly emotionally
Your pity falls on the audacious
losers that schreech and howl
in pity forever in the lonesome boxes
live in
Twisted souls
Blind to the embezled pride
of the pain-strickened
survivors of the lost they so feasibly endured
twisted souls.
J.V.Boyd
poem by Jeffrey Boyd
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I Promised Myself Not To Hurt My Eyes Anymore
last night
my eyes ached a lot like they are protesters
of my negligence
overusing them
apart
from the rest of my body parts: the nose not so nosy
the ears not hearing much
and my skins not feeling well
and my mouth and tongues
merely sleeping
in their safe spaces
my eyes
keep working for days and feel as though they are the only
workers
of my body
the eyes
that begin to hate poetry and reading and seeing and watching
i promised these eyes not to hurt them again
to give them a vacation
somewhere where the trees are greener
(since they love greens)
where the skies are bluer
(since they also love sky blue)
somewhere in the beach
where
beautiful bodies entice them
and make them
excited like ordinary hormonal
creatures
but
here i am again
my eyes working again on the lines of this poem
the eyes crying
on a promise that is always broken
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Soul’s relation to body
I love you; who is ‘I’- soul or body?
I won over your heart; you stole my heart.
Heart- do we mean the corporal one?
Soul, the fire, catches the body, the wood.
Soul to soul and body to body, no love sparks.
Soul in body loves soul in body.
Souls or bodies exclusively love not.
Soul and body are not like air and balloon.
Soul and body is like heat and body.
3.01.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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As They Dance
The heat rushed through her body
as she moved her body along side his
The movements were fast and breath taking
as they moved with the tempo of the music
His body bends back
as hers bends forward
His body bends forward
as hers bends back
Their bodies intertwined
as a vine on a wall
Their bodies move side to side
up and down
The music keeping the beat
as the danced
The stage lights dimmed to green
as they moved together
His hands run down her body
as she sways side to side
Her mouth open her eyes closed
his eyes on her body
He keeps his hands on her hips
as she ran her hands up his body to his face
Their lips met and their hearts raced
as the music stopped
poem by Bethany Maxwell
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The Ecstasy
WHERE, like a pillow on a bed,
A pregnant bank swell'd up, to rest
The violet's reclining head,
Sat we two, one another's best.
Our hands were firmly cemented
By a fast balm, which thence did spring;
Our eye-beams twisted, and did thread
Our eyes upon one double string.
So to engraft our hands, as yet
Was all the means to make us one;
And pictures in our eyes to get
Was all our propagation.
As, 'twixt two equal armies, Fate
Suspends uncertain victory,
Our souls—which to advance their state,
Were gone out—hung 'twixt her and me.
And whilst our souls negotiate there,
We like sepulchral statues lay;
All day, the same our postures were,
And we said nothing, all the day.
If any, so by love refined,
That he soul's language understood,
And by good love were grown all mind,
Within convenient distance stood,
He—though he knew not which soul spake,
Because both meant, both spake the same—
Might thence a new concoction take,
And part far purer than he came.
This ecstasy doth unperplex
(We said) and tell us what we love;
We see by this, it was not sex;
We see, we saw not, what did move:
But as all several souls contain
Mixture of things they know not what,
Love these mix'd souls doth mix again,
And makes both one, each this, and that.
A single violet transplant,
The strength, the colour, and the size—
All which before was poor and scant—
Redoubles still, and multiplies.
When love with one another so
Interanimates two souls,
That abler soul, which thence doth flow,
Defects of loneliness controls.
We then, who are this new soul, know,
Of what we are composed, and made,
For th' atomies of which we grow
Are souls, whom no change can invade.
But, O alas! so long, so far,
Our bodies why do we forbear?
They are ours, though not we; we are
Th' intelligences, they the spheres.
We owe them thanks, because they thus
Did us, to us, at first convey,
Yielded their senses' force to us,
Nor are dross to us, but allay.
On man heaven's influence works not so,
But that it first imprints the air;
For soul into the soul may flow,
Though it to body first repair.
As our blood labours to beget
Spirits, as like souls as it can;
Because such fingers need to knit
That subtle knot, which makes us man;
So must pure lovers' souls descend
To affections, and to faculties,
Which sense may reach and apprehend,
Else a great prince in prison lies.
To our bodies turn we then, that so
Weak men on love reveal'd may look;
Love's mysteries in souls do grow,
But yet the body is his book.
And if some lover, such as we,
Have heard this dialogue of one,
Let him still mark us, he shall see
Small change when we're to bodies gone.
poem by John Donne
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Saint John Baptist
THE last and greatest Herald of Heaven's King,
Girt with rough skins, hies to the deserts wild,
Among that savage brood the woods forth bring,
Which he than man more harmless found and mild.
His food was locusts, and what young doth spring
With honey that from virgin hives distill'd;
Parch'd body, hollow eyes, some uncouth thing
Made him appear, long since from earth exiled.
There burst he forth: 'All ye, whose hopes rely
On God, with me amidst these deserts mourn;
Repent, repent, and from old errors turn!'
--Who listen'd to his voice, obey'd his cry?
Only the echoes, which he made relent,
Rung from their marble caves 'Repent! Repent!'
poem by William Henry Drummond
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In The Moonlight
"O lonely workman, standing there
In a dream, why do you stare and stare
At her grave, as no other grave where there?"
"If your great gaunt eyes so importune
Her soul by the shine of this corpse-cold moon,
Maybe you'll raise her phantom soon!"
"Why, fool, it is what I would rather see
Than all the living folk there be;
But alas, there is no such joy for me!"
"Ah - she was one you loved, no doubt,
Through good and evil, through rain and drought,
And when she passed, all your sun went out?"
"Nay: she was the woman I did not love,
Whom all the other were ranked above,
Whom during her life I thought nothing of."
poem by Thomas Hardy
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The Boy with Fire in His Eyes
The boy with fire in his eyes
Stands there waiting.
It is his soul inside;
It keeps him standing.
And if ever the fire goes out,
He will freeze in the cold.
It is his heat
And all that keeps him living.
Or if it never is put to use,
It will consume him;
He will burn to the ground
His ashes left behind.
But if the fire blazes,
If kindled, kept and carried,
If the boy with fire in his eyes
Finds life inside that fire,
His fire will light the world,
Will pierce the mist,
A fire to drive the dark away
Forever and ever more.
poem by Daniel Nairn
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Eyes of Death
I looked into your eyes
Your Eyes of Death
I killed for those eyes to look into mine
Into my eyes of pain and guilt
I dared to walk into your path
I dared to take your hand into mine
And I dared to tell you my darkest secret
I stared into your Eyes of Death
And I lost my soul to them
When I looked into your Eyes of Death.
To this day, I am still dead
To this day, I can no longer live in the mortal world
To this day, we shall not die of fire, water, or love,
But of our Eyes of Death that rein our souls
I stare into your Eyes of Death and I cringe at the sight
I look into your Eyes of Death and I am no longer alive
I looked into your Eyes of Death
And I died again, before I could run from them
For I cannot stand to be around you to this very day again
I looked into your eyes
Your Eyes…of Death
poem by Jade DragonHeart
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It's Name Is Love.....
Of all
elements
i love fire
and i keep it
everywhere
look at me
there is fire in my eyes
feel my hands
there is fire
growing in my fingers
lay your head
upon my shoulders
there will be
fire in your
hair
kiss my lips
you shall eat my fire
burning in there
continuously
put your body
above mine
you shall be
dry wood
of my fireplace
in winter
and i shall burn you
forever
and you shall
love it
for this fire
burns
but we shall never
be consumed
no one is charred
nothing is marred
there is no
ash
neither potash
let me name
this fire
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Its Name Is Love.....
Of all
elements
i love fire
and i keep it
everywhere
look at me
there is fire in my eyes
feel my hands
there is fire
growing in my fingers
lay your head
upon my shoulders
there will be
fire in your
hair
kiss my lips
you shall eat my fire
burning in there
continuously
put your body
above mine
you shall be
dry wood
of my fireplace
in winter
and i shall burn you
forever
and you shall
love it
for this fire
burns
but we shall never
be consumed
no one is charred
nothing is marred
there is no
ash
neither potash
let me name
this fire
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Dream Of The Flesh
we are in the river
naked
our bodies meet
like
one body
missing
another body
and the river
becomes
one warm
water
trickling down
our two bodies
body to body
flesh to flesh
hands
to hands and
arms entwine
like some
chains of
daisies
to our necks
this oneness
that we
finally make
eyes to eyes
closing
and lips to lips
searching
tongues
we dare
search
our souls
if they
are there
too
in this
fusion
for the
meantime
we have no time
to ask
the river
has no name
even
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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My History Teacher
My ice cold blood
[you're not a warm-blooded creature]
Your ice cold stare
Is my HISTORY TEACHER
I sewed my heart up one little stich at a time
One shotty job done, it is true, but I
couldn't do it by myself, you coulda done the rest
But you went and ripped it right outta my chest
My ice cold blood
[you're not a warm-blooded creature]
Your ice cold stare
Is my HISTORY TEACHER
I wasn't even finished
I needed more thread
I got distracted by the
'Good' ideas you put in my head
My ice cold blood
[you're not a warm-blooded creature]
Your ice cold stare
Is my HISTORY TEACHER
You remind me of my delicate past
You remind me I'm good for nothing
You tell me that you love me[lies]
And remind me I wont be anything
My ice cold blood
[you're not a warm-blooded creature]
Your ice cold stare
Is my HISTORY TEACHER
You make me remeber what I've done
Because you make me remember I have no friends
You make me remeber It's all my fault
For making my happiness end
My ice cold blood
[you're not a warm-blooded creature]
Your ice cold stare
Is my HISTORY TEACHER
My ice cold blood
[you're not a warm-blooded creature]
Your ice cold stare
Is my HISTORY TEACHER
poem by Gabriella Franco
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Life Is Fire
A balloon burst, the air is not lost;
The house collapsed, the space is not lost.
Air and space can stand without bodies.
The life force is not like air or space.
Life and body are integrated
And exist as fire and fuel do.
Life manifests itself in organisms
And does not escape in their decay.
No fire without matter.
No life without matter.
Fire can be created.
Life can be extended.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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We... (Stoned By The Struggle)
we, who are stoned by the struggle,
whose faces bear the marks of living.
whose hands tremble a little
as we unbutton the shirt...
whose eyes dim still see.
whose bodies smell like bodies,
whose feet need to be washed.
whose hearts whisper in the empty night,
whose souls restless roam the earth.
whose dreams have become the small things,
whose breath smells of brandy and smoke.
whose doors are unlocked,
whose beds are offered...
we, who are drunk with living!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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The Game of Stare
There’s a boy with his fellow
I caught his eyes with a wander
Now the game has been played
Now you have been challenged
You better asked my name
Before anyone came
But you only stare, stare, stare
Like I annoy your safety ring
Like you can’t even think
You only stare, stare, stare
Like I lose you something
Something you can’t even win
There’s boy in the dance floor
I catch his eyes, he comes closer
Now the game is replayed
Now you better watch out
You better take me out
Before someone calls you coward
Cause you only stare, stare, stare
Like you never see me in dress
Like no one else who dares
You only stare, stare, stare
Like I steal you something
Something you can’t even think
There’s a boy in the park
He makes me catch his eyes
Now the game is forward
Now you don’t want to break up
You better have a word
Before you loose your hold
And you only stare, stare, stare
Like a puppy wants a bone
Like you’ll be lost if I’m gone
You only stare, stare, stare
Like I can give you something
Something you think you can’t win
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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True Marriage
Your reticence speaks that all
What you never reciprocate at all.
Though you are tied with someone else,
My love is fixed and never grows less.
Marriage is a bond and a beautiful cage,
Which makes us a prisoner and a slave.
But love is a bird, O' dear, of infinite sky,
Knows no bound and flies very high.
Nuptial cord fastens only bodies, and not hearts,
Where lie our souls, the men's immortal parts.
Our body is earthly, but the soul the heaven's due;
Body lies here, but the soul with heaven does glue.
Marriage unites bodies and love unites souls;
Death is bodies' divorce, but not that of souls.
If union of souls our true marriage be,
You must admit you have betrothed to me.
Deathless is my love ye need know,
And till eternity it will glow.
poem by Rajpal Singh
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