Hymn To Eros
O Eros, silently smiling one, hear me.
Let the shadow of thy wings
brush me.
Let thy presence
enfold me, as if darkness
were swandown.
Let me see that darkness
lamp in hand,
this country become
the other country
sacred to desire.
Drowsy god,
slow the wheels of my thought
so that I listen only
to the snowfall hush of
thy circling.
Close my beloved with me
in the smoke ring of thy power,
that we way be, each to the other,
figures of flame,
figures of smoke,
figures of flesh
newly seen in the dusk.
poem by Denise Levertov
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Related quotes
In the depths of the mirror the evening landscape moved by, the mirror and the reflected figures like motion pictures superimposed one on the other. The figures and the background were unrelated, and yet the figures, transparent and intangible, and the background, dim in the gathering darkness, melted into a sort of symbolic world not of this world. Particularly when a light out in the mountains shone in the center of the girl's face, Shimamura felt his chest rise at the inexpressible beauty of it.
Yasunari Kawabata in Snow Country
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Waxen Figures
Greasy normally solid of form
wax cold wax grey still lifeless.
Grey lifeless dead wax
though strangely sentient.
Waxen figures grouped
on mirror window’s ledge.
Light is dim flickering
in mesmerizing flame
voices husky superimposed
over crackle creaking rain.
Semi-transparent grey ghosts
undulating by light of candle flame.
Wax cold wax grey still lifeless
cold wax warm wax blistering hot
a burning nova in cosmic creation.
Wick like a vein the soul within you.
Waxen figures my hand shaped and fed
devoid of life where is inherent meaning.
Strike a match instantaneous in friction ignite
how can match give, this sharp golden light?
Breathe life into figures
figures move transformed,
to a crisp white frost through
radiant warmth of an inner sun.
My nostrils quiver, a smell
obscure but heavy hangs in air.
Beyond comprehension untouchable
like smoke it spews forth
a continuous gently wavering stream
so faint it is barely there.
Is this the smell of creation?
Creation on a lesser scale
creation none the less.
Glorious in its wonder.
Independent of me from birth
figures walk through dimensions
beyond existence,
still I catch a glimpse
of multiplied universal wonder
figures glide serenely through.
Seen and unseen by me.
So many different worlds
so many different signs
on elastic edge of understanding
play before my plasmatic mind.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Figures Don't Lie (edited)
you must understand that what costs
us sleepless nights
and these ugly eye-bags are not
really the words, but the
numbers,
yes the numbers those digits
those symbols
they are the least common
denominators
and numbers are figures and figures
as you must have been briefed by the famous adage department
figures do not lie.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Late Anniversary Madrigal
May you find help from action figures I keep.
May you find them in the top drawer
And bring them out while you sleep
And I welcome darkness--
The flickering TV, helicopters
hopscotched overhead.
May these nightdolls help you,
When every questionnaire questions you,
When diagonal smoke
Mafficks treetops.
Use this antidote liberally.
May your walk to the F train be not alone.
poem by Daniel Nester
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Big Black Smoke
She was sick and tired of country life.
A little country home,
A little country folk,
Made her blood run cold.
Now her mother pines her heart away,
Looking for her child in the big black smoke,
In the big black smoke.
Frailest, purest girl the world has seen,
According to her ma, according to her pa,
And everybody said,
That she knew no sin and did no wrong,
Till she walked the streets of the big black smoke,
Of the big black smoke.
Well, she slept in caffs and coffee bars and bowling alleys,
And every penny she had
Was spent on purple hearts and cigarettes.
She took all her pretty coloured clothes,
And ran away from home
And the boy next door,
For a boy named joe.
And he took her money for the rent
And tried to drag her down in the big black smoke,
In the big black smoke.
In the big black smoke.
In the big black smoke.
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You see, 30 years ago I didn't have near the audience I have now. My tapes on the cults have reached a circulation of 15 million. those are not my figures but the figures of the people who distribute them.
quote by Walter Martin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fof II
Old movie barely breathes, silver & grey.
Crying dew tears, steamy smoke.
Revealing absorbing true shapes
of grey bones
Wet tongue whisper under the lamp light.
Unintelligible figures.
Not much to see of.
poem by Luca Menin
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Sunday Morning,2p.m
Morning dawns slowly through the smoke
its gentle nudging wakes me from my from my sleep
Bodies, mounds of sweating flesh, scattered on the floor
Their figures smell like morning breath, though they don’t know what morning’s for.
And dead eyes stare, glassy, red and sore
straining through a murky fog.
Glistening yellow skin stirs,
ripe aubergine lips
A dying frog croak calls for aspirin
Or anything to quell the pain;
some cough drops for the grater in my throat
And anything to get my swollen belly flat again.
Ghostly, spectral figures float vaguely through the fog
Their mouths and eyes as blurry as their thoughts
a jigsaw puzzle memory with the edges gone
vanished in a world of Sunday’s.
poem by Jack Turner
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In a Country
My love and I are inventing a country, which we
can already see taking shape, as if wheels were
passing through yellow mud. But there is a prob-
lem: if we put a river in the country, it will thaw
and begin flooding. If we put the river on the bor-
der, there will be trouble. If we forget about the
river, there will be no way out. There is already a
sky over that country, waiting for clouds or smoke.
Birds have flown into it, too. Each evening more
trees fill with their eyes, and what they see we can
never erase.
One day it was snowing heavily, and again we were
lying in bed, watching our country: we could
make out the wide river for the first time, blue and
moving. We seemed to be getting closer; we saw
our wheel tracks leading into it and curving out
of sight behind us. It looked like the land we had
left, some smoke in the distance, but I wasn't sure.
There were birds calling. The creaking of our
wheels. And as we entered that country, it felt as if
someone was touching our bare shoulders, lightly,
for the last time.
poem by Larry Levis
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There's a challenge to playing these fantasy figures because they are fantasy figures. You have to enter into this sort of imaginative world of the writer.
quote by Ralph Fiennes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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People are so afraid of authority figures and doctors are authority figures.
quote by Martha Beck
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Figures Don't Lie...
you must understand that what costs
us sleepless nights
and these ugly eye-bugs are not
really the words, but the
numbers,
yes the numbers those digits
those symbols
they are the least common
denominators
and numbers are figures and figures
as you must have been brief by the famous adage
do not lie.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fog
Old movie morning...
The sun barely breathes, silver & grey colours.
Black & white grass heads, crying dew tears.
The land wakes with mugs of stemming smoke.
Revealing absorbing true shapes
Of tree grey morning bones
Wet tongue on my ears.
Whisper shadow from the lamp light.
Blind eyes draw, unintelligible figures.
Not much to see, on the walls' house.
Trapped in mimic cage.
The fog tricks silver and grey hats.
Of smoking breaths.
poem by Luca Menin
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Classic Scene
A power-house
in the shape of
a red brick chair
90 feet high
on the seat of which
sit the figures
of two metal
stacks--aluminum--
commanding an area
of squalid shacks
side by side--
from one of which
buff smoke
streams while under
a grey sky
the other remains
passive today--
poem by William Carlos Williams
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Darkness Of...
Darkness is not the darkness of night
it is the darkness of mind and soul.
darkness is not the darkness of night,
it is the darkness of discrimination between poor and rich.
darkness is not the darkness of night,
it is the darkness of dishonesty.
darkness is not the darkness of night,
it is the darkness of aggravate.
darkness is not the darkness of night,
it is darkness of corruption.
darkness is not the darkness of night,
it is the darkness of indiscipline.
darkness is not the darkness of night,
it is the darkness of animosity.
darkness is not the darkness of night,
it is the darkness of inveterate.
darkness is not the darkness of night,
it is the darkness of perjury.
darkness is not the darkness of night,
it is the darkness that we all brought up inside us,
so, light the lamp of light inside you...
poem by Suniya Garg
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Where The World Began
Im tired of being grateful for a chance to take a dive
Im sick of everything I do just to keep myself alive
When you cut away the skin that bears the brand
Standin in the darkness, baby, there I am
Chorus:
Standin in the darkness
Someone call my name out
Standin in the darkness
Someone put the flame out
Standin in the darkness
Baby, there I am
Where the world began
Saw the man in jamaica, he had a shadow on his back
I recalled the ring of fire, and he wore his suit of black
When the legend and the ocean meet the sand
Standin in the darkness, baby, there I am
Chorus:
Standin in the darkness
Someone call my name out
Standin in the darkness
Someone put the flame out
Standin in the darkness
Baby, there I am
Where the world began
Everyone is so fabulous, hey, we all got our gun
Old snakeys not a sinner, no, he just shows us how its done
When you separate the wretched from the damned
Standin in the darkness, baby, there I am
Chorus:
Standin in the darkness
Someone call my name out
Standin in the darkness
Someone put the flame out
Standin in the darkness
Baby, there I am
Where the world began
song performed by by John Mellencamp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Country Darkness
This tattered document
A mystery you can solve
Some burnt out filament
Flies still buzzing around the bulb
Country Darkness
He thought of traveling
Heard an approaching train
Drown out his desperate pulse
A song with no refrain
Country Darkness
She daydreams of forbidden sins
There must be something more
The prison she lives in
The one with the open door
The veil is covering
A glistening and cruel blade
Suffer little children
Repent, unfaithful maid
Country Darkness
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fallen Guardian
Lust beckons to this angel
Possesive desire takes control
Falling through the darkness
Feeling his way around
Ripped agony
Wings torn away
Thrown back to the darkness
Walking through the world
Lust and desire long since dead
Raging with anger beneath the glassy surface
Permitting himself into a body
Feeling alive for a while
Playing games with people
Finding new desires
Love aglow within his heart
Blackened past sharpen his eyes
And secrets lock themselves away
* inspired by my newly favourited book, Hush Hush by Becca Fitzpatrick :) *
poem by Rachel BaByBeAr Anderson
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A Solstice Dance
Drums are pulsing in echoes of darkness
When the sun sinks low and the music plays
The hillsides dotted with lighted bonfires
And figures that leap around the blaze
I can see in the shimmering darkness
My brethren dance into ecstasy
Flames are bounding higher and higher
With my pagan kind surrounding me
Sky-clad sisters with candles and lanterns
Our voices rising into the night
A thousand bodies and souls united
When we are blessed with the second sight
I can see in the glimmering darkness
My sisters dance into ecstasy
Drums are beating louder and louder
As shadows of the old year surround me
The wind is filled with a thousand voices
I touch the sky and I close my eyes
The air sparkles with old English magic
As we dance until the next sunrise
I can hear the stars cry out to us
Shivering in their black cloak of night
Fires warming the souls that wander
Into the rest of eternal night
Shadows of figures upon the hillside
Moving through the Solstice dance
The soldiers watch with envious gazes
As we waltz into Hecate’s trance
I can see the lights in the distance
Fireflies flickering to the sound
Of drums that echo our racing heartbeats
And barefoot sisters upon the ground
Come and dance on the rolling hillside
On this night of Pagan feasts
Come to us where the night is clear
Where all our souls can be released
poem by Rebecca Kate Summers
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Fascinating Figures In A Flickering Candle Light
The candle flickering
throws fascinating figures
to dance across the walls.
Silhouettes that move
in opulent rhythms,
which are hidden, from our ears.
Fascinating figures that capture
all our imagination can see,
dancing on a faint breeze
that wafts the candle flame
in jubilant games
into the darkened night.
We sit mesmerized by it all
as the silhouettes dance
and sway across the walls,
brought to life by
the flickering candle light.
poem by David Harris
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