For A Poet
I have wrapped my dreams in a silken cloth,
And laid them away in a box of gold;
Where long will cling the lips of the moth,
I have wrapped my dreams in a silken cloth;
I hide no hate; I am not even wroth
Who found the earth's breath so keen and cold;
I have wrapped my dreams in a silken cloth,
And laid them away in a box of gold.
poem by Countee Cullen
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Related quotes
A Silken Cloth
Sometimes we look but cannot see
the beauty there before us.
Sometimes we let go of something
we should have hung onto.
This happens all the time
concerning matters of the heart.
Sometimes our head rules our heart
and something wonderful is lost.
In the years that follow,
we live with our regret
of not following our heart
instead of following our head.
We reflect in our memories
making up what might have been,
when it is too late for us
to turn back the clock.
Always wondering what would have happened
if we had followed our heart.
We cannot foresee the future
and our destiny is always shrouded
within a silken cloth.
We can only go where
our future plans to lead us,
and our destiny is written.
Our what ifs and wonderings
are just fragments of our dreams.
Reality is where we live
and our time is mapped out
in a future shrouded
within a silken cloth.
26 September 2011
poem by David Harris
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Greatest Christmas Gift
The greatest gift man has ever received
Came wrapped in swaddling cloth
Laid open on the cross
So all could receive the gift
Of heaven
poem by David Kush
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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5. Candy Stripes
My candy stripe
Soft flannelette
A warmer sheet
I’ve not found yet
Wrapped up cosy
Snuggled in
Dreams a plenty
Flooding in
Sleeping soundly
Taking rest
Charging batteries
To their best
All will last
Beyond the dawn
I wake refreshed
As if reborn
So keep you silken
Sheets of passion
I’d rather have
The warmer fashion
poem by David Threadgold (2008)
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Under Wraps #2
Keep it quiet. (go slow.)
Circulate. need to know.
Stamp the date upon your file ---
Masquerade, but well worth while.
Wrapped in the warmth of you ---
Wrapped up in your smile.
Wrapped in the folds of your attention.
Wear an air --- (keep mum)
Of casual indifference.
Careful how you go
About your usual business.
Wrapped in daydreams of you ---
Wrapped up by your eyes.
Wrapped in the folds of your attention.
Under wraps! i've got you under wraps.
Tell you when --- (not yet)
Soon the great unveiling.
Bless my boots! upon my soul!
Secrecy, it is my failing.
Wrapped in your summer night ---
Wrapped in your autumn leaves.
Wrapped in the winter of your sleeping.
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Under Wraps
Keep it quiet. (go slow.)
Circulate. need to know.
Stamp the date upon your file ---
Masquerade, but well worth while.
Wrapped in the warmth of you ---
Wrapped up in your smile.
Wrapped in the folds of your attention.
Wear an air --- (keep mum)
Of casual indifference.
Careful how you go
About your usual business.
Wrapped in daydreams of you ---
Wrapped up by your eyes.
Wrapped in the folds of your attention.
Under wraps! Ive got you under wraps.
Tell you when --- (not yet)
Soon the great unveiling.
Bless my boots! upon my soul!
Secrecy, it is my failing.
Wrapped in your summer night ---
Wrapped in your autumn leaves.
Wrapped in the winter of your sleeping.
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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About The Mother
she feigns laughter
to hide her extreme grief
about the unexpected loss
of the beloved
wrapped in white cloth
without a face
just pieces of those
charred limbs
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Wrapped Around Your Finger
You consider me the young apprentice
Caught between the Scylla and Charibdes.
Hypnotized by you if I should linger
Staring at the ring around your finger.
I have only come here seeking knowledge,
Things they would not teach me of in college.
I cant see the best in me
That you saw
I'll be wrapped around your finger.
I'll be wrapped around your finger.
Mephistopheles is not your name,
But I know what you're up to just the same.
I will listen hard to your tuition,
And you will see it come to it's fruition.
I'll be wrapped around your finger.
I'll be wrapped around your finger.
Devil and the deep blue sea behind me
Vanish in the air you'll never find me.
I will turn your face to alabaster,
Then you'll find your servant is your master,
And you'll be wrapped around my finger.
I'll be wrapped around your finger.
You'll be wrapped around my finger.
I'll be wrapped around your finger
song performed by by Underoath
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Flowering Orchard
Silk Embroidery.
Lo silken my garden,
and silken my sky,
And silken my apple-boughs
hanging on high;
All wrought by the Worm
in the peasant carle’s cot
On the Mulberry leafage
when summer was hot!
poem by William Morris
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My last rites
The solemn funeral
took place in the
humid desert
trail of mourners
walked on the
thirsty hot sand.
The fragrance of
those miserable flowers
ending the path
blooming to survive
in that gloomy evening
unweighing all burdens.
Wrapped in melancholic
green shiny cloth
grounded with
comfort case
dampened soil in pit
to be laid to feast.
poem by Mubeen Sadhika
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Wrapped around your finger
You consider me the young apprentice
Caught between the Scylla and Charibdes.
Hypnotized by you if I should linger
Starring at the ring around your finger
I have only come here seeking knowledge
Things they wouldn't teach me of in college
I can see the destiny you sold
Turn into a shining band of hope
I'll be wrapped around your finger
I'll be wrapped around your finger
Nafostaveles is not your name
But I know what you're up to just the same
I will listen hard to your tuition
You will see it come to it's fruition
I'll be wrapped around your finger
I'll be wrapped around your finger
Devil and the deep blue see behind me
Vanish in the air you'll never find me
I will turn you face to alabaster
Then you'll find you're servant is your master
You'll be wrapped around my finger
You'll be wrapped around my finger
You'll be wrapped around my finger
song performed by by Green Lizard from Identity
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Latter day South Africa
The face of the old black woman
is plastered with mud,
a red cloth is wrapped around her head
and her feet treads burdensome
where she walks bare foot
on rocky roads
and every now and then
steps into a thorn
and almost fall over
while she removes it clumsily.
The child that she carries piggy-back
isn’t black,
nor white,
or yellow,
or eastern coloured,
he’s something of everyone
and is belted to her back
with a ragged cloth
and it’s difficult
since he’s restless
and the child is thirsty
and the hunger
burns from his stomach
to his throat.
In the distance
she hears people
gathering around a bon fire
drinking beer and dancing,
but she’s locked out
and the road is long
and she hobbles on
while the twilight is falling.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Cloth of Time
The concept of time is
Like a cloth
Waving in the wind.
The wind collides
And bounces,
Causing the cloth to sway.
We are the specks
Of dust
Nestled within
The fibers of time.
This cloth is where
We sleep and wake.
This wind is the result
Of our existence.
When the wind is still
The cloth of time
Hangs
Like a man
Whose time has run out.
poem by by unknown author
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Mad Mud Man
a man in the expression
of mud,
carries something dead
wrapped with
cloth and
mud,
walks senselessly
around
a busy city,
when he finally commits
suicide
what then?
he ends his life,
do we have to follow?
this is still the same law
the fittest must survive.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Yielding
Crossing the chasm of reality,
I mire myself in gilded fantasies;
where do I look back?
I wrapped myself in flames
and burn to ashes
before I fade away
and as I brew the ennui
of the downpour above me
I wrapped myself in rain
flushing out the colors that worry me
Pulling roots and picking stones,
fragmenting poignant dreams and bones;
where do I go from here?
poem by Norman Santos
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Summer's Soft Embrace
Roses cascading from a trellis, tumble down
And grace the paving stones beneath my feet.
Early leaves have fallen and crumble, brown,
Rustling when crushed against the hard concrete.
Summer days of sweetness, sun and shade,
Where on a wrought iron table, food one sups
Is, on a crisp white cloth, so carefully laid,
With offerings, and tea in porcelain cups.
A cool breeze enters through an open space,
Between the Eucalyptus and the Yew,
And one is wrapped in Summer's soft embrace,
And canopied by a sky of azure blue.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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Made By Hand
made by hand....
dreams woven
in a fine cloth....
steps made of stone,
laid one upon the other.
shelter made of oak,
cut and hauled,
nailed together in the sun,
able to stand the night.
this window made of glass,
allowing light and dark
to intertwine....
this old bed made of pine....
the path to the doorway
laid with pine needles....
this old door always open....
the light always on....
this heart made by hand,
waiting for you,
in this stillness...
made by hand!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Wrapped Around Your Finger
You consider me the young apprentice
Caught between the Scylla and Charibdes
Hypnotized by you if I should linger
Staring at that ring around your finger
I have only come here seeking knowledge,
Things they would not teach me of in college
I can see the destiny you sold
Turned into that shining band of gold
I'll be wrapped around your finger
Mephistopheles is not your name
But I know what you're up to just the same
I will listen hard to your tuition
And you will see it come to its fruition
I'll be wrapped around your finger
Devil on the deep blue sea behind me
Vanish in the air you'll never find me
I will turn your face to alabaster
When you find your servant is your master
And you'll be wrapped around my finger
song performed by by Police
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Girl In A Miniskirt Reading The Bible Outside My Window
Sunday, I am eating a
grapefruit, church is over at the Russian
Orthadox to the
west.
she is dark
of Eastern descent,
large brown eyes look up from the Bible
then down. a small red and black
Bible, and as she reads
her legs keep moving, moving,
she is doing a slow rythmic dance
reading the Bible. . .
long gold earrings;
2 gold bracelets on each arm,
and it's a mini-suit, I suppose,
the cloth hugs her body,
the lightest of tans is that cloth,
she twists this way and that,
long yellow legs warm in the sun. . .
there is no escaping her being
there is no desire to. . .
my radio is playing symphonic music
that she cannot hear
but her movements coincide exactly
to the rythms of the
symphony. . .
she is dark, she is dark
she is reading about God.
I am God.
poem by Charles Bukowski
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Royal place
Painted fresh
Red and white
With even little squares
To Give a rich look
The look of royality
A table cloth
Laid out for a Queen.
Evenly placed on the ground..
A royal place
A splended place
For my knee to rest
Am I worthy
Comming before the Queen.
There on the cloth
Its settings
The plate
The cup
The numbers were in two
Off to the side a deep green
Bottle of wine
My Invitation
But my knee is resting on the ground
Her hand extended toward me
Beckoning my kiss
My lips caress her wrist.
Her invitation
Is to dine with royality.
poem by Howard Johnson
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Years Of Travel...
lover...
the tongue severed,
chopped in tiny pieces,
laid carefully in a box,
that sits silently screaming
on your shelf!
the heart does not know
faces or names,
is not bound by distance,
1000 miles, or 20 feet
across the room...
that seems even further.
we die a thousand deaths
at each other's feet.
love's crucifixions,
bodies wrapped in cloth,
and perfumed.
souls drawn to each other,
clothed, yet bare naked.
live wires touching,
that light up the night...
drinking the darkness that names!
intimate strangers,
are we ever any more?
even after years of travel,
so much we dont know...
even after years of travel!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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