Related quotes: A Celtic knot empowers his...

Solemn Oaks In A Barren Land.

A Celtic knot empowers his wrist
His hair hands in loosened braids
He’d call himself a Bard
But they’d have him branded as insane.

His eyes conceal a fountain
Of wisdoms, ancient, untold.
His eyes conceal a knowing
That remain though he grows old.

His skin as the wind
Changes in contrast to expectation
Sometimes he retains the silver pale of the moon,
The next day he glows in Apollian radiance.

Torn chords cling tight the hip
Worn through seams beg to be sewn.
As he strides headstrong
Into the un-known.

His chests grows tighter day by day
He seeks a rest, another way
To see is day is done.

We amongst the faithless stand
As solemn oaks in a barren land.

poem by David Lacey
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Related quotes

How happily you do the acting!

You are happy in this world
How happily you do the acting!
Happiness is a big fling!
How hard you try to conceal!
The real truth, your eyes reveal.

How hard you try to conceal!
How hard you try to do the acting!
No one loves any one
We love ourselves the most and crave for it
Rest is for the lust and for the benefit.

How hard you try to conceal the beast
No matter how, you are, small or big!
This is a real lip service
No one loves progress and peace.

How deep is the colour of your face- paint!
How hard you try to become a saint!
Whatever camouflage you adopt to conceal
The real intention, the acts of you reveal.

poem by Abdul Wahab
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Silver Palomino

(A mother dies leaving her young son
to come to terms with the loss.
In remembrance of Fiona Chappel,
for her sons Tyler and Oliver.)
I was barely 13 years old
She came out of the Guadalupe's on a night so cold
Her coat was frosted diamonds in the sallow moon's glow
My silver palomino
Sixteen hands from her withers to the ground
I lie in bed and listen to the sound
Of the west Texas thunder roll
My silver palomino
I track her into the mountains she loved
Watch her from the rocks above
She'd dip her neck and drink from the winter flows
My silver palomino
Our mustaeros were the very best, sir
But they could never lay a rope on her
No corral will ever hold
The silver palomino
In my dreams bareback I ride
Over the pradera low and wide
As the wind sweeps out the draw
'Cross the scrub desert floor
I'd give my riata and spurs
If I could be forever yours
I'd ride into the serrania where no one goes
For my silver palomino
Summer drought come hard that year
Our herd grazed the land so bare
Me and my dad had to blowtorch the thorns off the prickly pear
And mother, your hand slipped from my hair
Tonight I wake early the sky is pearl, the stars aglow
I saddle up my red roan
I ride deep into the mountains along a ridge of pale stone
Where the air is still with the coming snow
As I rise higher I can smell your hair
The scent of your skin, mother, fills the air
'Midst the harsh scrub pine that grows
I watch the silver palomino

song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Orphaned Land - The Storm Still Rages Inside

The rain keeps on falling
Filling the dried land
It drinks the purity of life
(The) land starts to grow
It must be a sign
A message from God's hand
Like tears from the sky
Water begins its flow
Left alone, deserted so long ago
The storm still rages inside
Before the dawn rises I cannot see the light
This land's ground grows weak
Shall we find the path ?
The preacher's words were right
I can't see anyway to (the outer world)
Tears do flow, yet can't conceal
This land is barren, it does not feel
Our self-made slaughter
By our own hands
Here lies the orphaned land...
Suddenly lightning strikes the earth
It marks the sign of my rebirth
Seeds of love from myself evolve
This cannot be living - without (your) safety
The storm still rages inside...
Invisible rays penetrate the ground
This land to die is surely bound
Suffer but doesn't scream
Can this be a hopeless dream ?

song performed by by Orphaned Land
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

To Constantia

I.
The rose that drinks the fountain dew
In the pleasant air of noon,
Grows pale and blue with altered hue—
In the gaze of the nightly moon;
For the planet of frost, so cold and bright
Makes it wan with her borrowed light.

II.
Such is my heart—roses are fair,
And that at best a withered blossom;
But thy false care did idly wear
Its withered leaves in a faithless bosom;
And fed with love, like air and dew,
Its growth----

poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Heaven Grows

Heaven grows
On barren hearts
Fertilized with pain
When barren hearts fall apart
Heaven starts to grow

Heaven grows
On barren hearts
Drenched in tears
When the flood waters part
Heaven starts to grow

Heaven grows
On barren hearts
During darkest night
With the faintest light
Heaven starts to grow

Heaven grows best
When filled with pain
Drenched in tears
During the darkest night
When we call out his name

poem by Brian Kilpatrick
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The Real Me, The Outside Me

I have black hair with bright highlights, I have brown hair.
My eyes are black with green specks, my eyes are pale blue.
I am a vegetarian, I eat meat.
My wrist shows no scars, there are scars.
I stand-up for what I want, I go with the flow.
This is my dream, this is my reality.

poem by Blackregret Rose
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The Way I Feel

Written by christine mcvie.
Once in everyones life
You know a feeling has to grow
And you may be having a bad time
And you really shouldnt let it show
Youre taking a risk, but it doesnt matter
cos you know, you know that its real
I cant conceal the way that I feel
I cant conceal the way, the way that I feel
How many times have I told you
Oh, I adore you
And if it meant anything at all
Id do anything for you
But its too late and I know Im making
A fool, a fool of myself
But I cant conceal the way that I feel
I cant conceal the way, the way that I feel

song performed by by Fleetwood Mac
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

A happy turn

The knot of the son was torn of his mother.
The knot of the wife with him, in turn came tighter.
No true parents had felt it an insult
Though they felt it a knot in their throat.
31.12.2000, Pmdi

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

I Was Tired

I saw her again-
brushing her hair
that fell like shiny feathers.
Her eyes had mocked
her solemn face
as though a dagger
has flashed behind her gaze.
She brushed her hair
that fell like shiny feathers
while her eyes had mocked her face.
Her lips do nothing but conceal
the pain that flows like river.
I grew tired watching at her
loneliness that often speaks forever.
I was tired-
so i turned away from the mirror.

poem by Jessel Jane Tevar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Sandman

When the sandman comes tonight
I will keep my eyes shut tight.
For I don't like that gritty feel,
the sandiness that does conceal

what visions lay behind my eyes,
the dreams I have of starry skies,
the dreams I have that leave too soon,
the dreams of being on the moon.

The sandman visits all who sleep.
Into your bedroom he will creep.
He'll sprinkle sand into your eyes
and in the morn you'll realize

that daytime's here. It's time to face
all those in the human race,
going through the day at hand
just waiting for the man with sand.

poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Tombstone

The night is dark, the moon is full
Across the blood red plain
Every step and every breath
Brings me nearer home
The spirits watch me on my way
They whisper on the wind
And when the dawn lights up the sky
I'll see my land again
A hot wind blows the scrub and dust
across the barren land
Trees stand bare like skeletons
The mountains all torn down
The water holes are dry as bones
No birds are singing now
And faraway a city stands
Tombstones against the sky

song performed by by Pogues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Tombestone

The night is dark, the moon is full
Across the blood red plain
Every step and every breath
Brings me nearer home
The spirits watch me on my way
They whisper on the wind
And when the dawn lights up the sky
Ill see my land again
A hot wind blows the scrub and dust
Across the barren land
Trees stand bare like skeletons
The mountains all torn down
The water holes are dry as bones
No birds are singing now
And faraway a city stands
Tombstones against the sky

song performed by by Pogues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

The Nizam’s Daughter

SHE is yet a child in years,
Twelve springs are on her face,
Yet in her slender form appears
The woman's perfect grace.
Her silken hair, that glossy black,
But only to be found
There, or upon the raven's back,
Falls sweeping to the ground.

'Tis parted in two shining braids
With silver and with gold,
And one large pearl by contrast aids
The darkness of each fold.
And for she is so young, that flowers
Seem natural to her now,
There wreaths the champac's snowy showers
Around her sculptured brow.

Close to her throat the silvery vest
By shining clasps is bound,
Scarce may her graceful shape be guest,
Mid drapery floating round.
But the small curve of that veined throat,
Like marble, but more warm,
The fairy foot and hand denote
How perfect is the form.

Upon the ankle and the wrist
There is a band of gold,
No step by Grecian fountain kiss'd,
Was of diviner mould.
In the bright girdle round her waist,
Where the red rubies shine,
The kandjar's glittering hilt is placed,
To mark her royal line.

Her face is like the moonlight pale,
Strangely and purely fair,
For never summer sun nor gale
Has touched the softness there.
There are no colours of the rose,
Alone the lip is red;
No blush disturbs the sweet repose
Which o'er that cheek is shed.

And yet the large black eyes, like night,
Have passion and have power;
Within their sleepy depths is light
For some wild wakening hour.
A world of sad and tender dreams
'Neath those long lashes sleep,
A native pensiveness that seems
Too still and sweet to weep.

Of such seclusion know we nought:
Yet surely woman here
Grows shrouded from all common thought,
More delicate and dear.
And love, thus made a thing apart,
Must seem the more divine,
When the sweet temple of the heart
Is a thrice-veiled shrine.

poem by Letitia Elizabeth Landon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

In Deepest Shadow

White tigers live until their time,
Yet, uptil then, behold...
For each was born to look sublime,
Like silver, not like gold...
The Bengal tigers aren't like these,
Black stripes against the white...
As if created just to please,
Inspire and delight...

There's such a blessing in their eyes
That stare with topaz blue,
Like tanzanite or pale sapphires
Each time they look at you...
Respect for them just grows and grows,
As if that's meant to be...
Not that you'd want to stand too close,
To gaze on royalty...

Behold the magic that they cast,
In deepest shadow's spell...
As dusk approaches till it's past
And daytime bids farewell...
Beneath the moon, their eyes shine on,
Like beacons in the night!
Until the next day's sun has shone,
Revealing black and white...

Denis Martindale, copyright, October 2011.

The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'In Deepest Shadow'.

More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com

poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Our last Swim (R.I.P. Anne Mary Simon)

Our last Swim
By Renee’
For my beloved Anne Mary Simon

An Image of you in a cloud rolls by
The sky opens up, somewhere in my mind
A vision of you in a pale blue dress
Tears falling down, you took my breath
Memories of you...