In Memoriam Paul Celan
Lay these words into the dead man's grave
next to the almonds and black cherries---
tiny skulls and flowering blood-drops, eyes,
and Thou, O bitterness that pillows his head.
Lay these words on the dead man's eyelids
like eyebrights, like medieval trumpet flowers
that will flourish, this time, in the shade.
Let the beheaded tulips glisten with rain.
Lay these words on his drowned eyelids
like coins or stars, ancillary eyes.
Canopy the swollen sky with sunspots
while thunder addresses the ground.
Syllable by syllable, clawed and handled,
the words have united in grief.
It is the ghostly hour of lamentation,
the void's turn, mournful and absolute.
Lay these words on the dead man's lips
like burning tongs, a tongue of flame.
A scouring eagle wheels and shrieks.
Let God pray to us for this man.
poem by Edward Hirsch

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Words
Words on this paper
Words in my head
Words while I'm texting
Computing
Unsaid
Words between people
Words on the phone
Words upon words
Even when I'm alone
Words from the Bible
I question
Don't mesh
Words from pornography
Making them flesh
Words with flat letters
Written in black
Good words and bad words
You cannot take back
Words that are shallow
Words that are deep
When they're too many
They put me to sleep
Words that I'm writing
And rhyming you read
Whatever I'm saying
There's prolly no need
Words from the alphabet
Words that can't be
When you are blind
And it's Braile that you see
Words that are worthless
And said on the fly
My words or your words
Are most likely lies
Words in a sentence
Wise words or fair
The only words earnest
Are those said in prayer
Written by Sara Fielder © 2011
poem by Sara Fielder

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Truly, Truly, This Is The End
They say deaths an open door
Into another room
Within the city of the dead
(Our New Kingdom)
They say we walk like dreams
Sharing the same breath
Seeing through the same eyes
(A collective spirit)
As we pray (As we pray)
On his grave (On his grave)
Or words fall and decay (And decay)
As we pray (As we pray)
On his grave (On his grave)
Or words fall and decay (And decay)
They say the Earth it gives no peace
Nor does it take away
We all survive the grave
(Unfortunate eternal)
They say that in times past
A king walked in the sky
Until dethroned by man
(Tribe of Judas)
As we pray (As we pray)
On his grave (On his grave)
Or words fall and decay (And decay)
As we pray (As we pray)
On his grave (On his grave)
Or words fall and decay (And decay)
Truly, truly, this is the end
Truly, truly, this is the end
Truly, truly, this is the end
Truly, truly, this is the end
It's not the same
I'm plagued with pain and I can't let go
It's not the same
I'm plagued with pain and I can't let go
It's not the same
I'm plagued with pain and I can't let go
It's not the same
I'm plagued with pain and I can't let go
This is the end
song performed by by Zao

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lonely Internet Poet Seeks.....
Is there anyone listening?
(I thought I heard voices)
Is there anybody out there?
Or are there no words?
THERE ARE NO WORDS! !
No words,
The blood from stone,
Eyes turned upward sick with fear,
And dead stars wandering briefly in a lost universe.....
poem by John Thorkild Ellison

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The Tryst
I raised the veil, I loosed the bands,
I took the dead thing from its place.
Like a warm stream in frozen lands
My lips went wandering on her face,
My hands burnt in her hands.
She could not stay me, being dead;
Her body here was mine to hold.
What if her lips had lost their red?
To me they always tasted cold
With the cold words she said.
Did my breath run along her hair,
And free the pulse, and fire the brain,
My wild blood wake her wild blood there?
Here eyelids lifted wide again
In a blue, sudden stare.
Beneath my fierce, profane caress
The whole white length of body moved;
The drowsy bosom seemed to press
As if against a breast beloved,
Then fail for weariness.
No, not that anguish! Christ forbid
That I should raise such dead! I rose,
Stifled the mouth with lilies, hid
Those eyes, And drew the long hair close,
And shut the coffin lid.
My cold brow on the cold wood laid,
Quiet and close to-night we lie.
No cruel words her lips have said.
I shall not take nor she deny.
The dead is with the dead.
poem by Muriel Stuart

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Taking A Glance At You
taking a glance at you
is poetry in itself, by itself and for itself.
there are words in my eyes
they speak in silence. They long to tell you what i feel.
there are hands on my lips. There are fingers there.
They long to go near you and kiss your lips too.
i see you as words too. Your eyes are images of my
own happiness. Your lips are shaping the shapes of ships
and they have sails to take me away to ecstacies.
i feel you as words of love, and lust and desire insatiable.
my fingers want to read every syllable in your face.
you have always been my poem.And there are so many of you
in all of them.
words, and images, and ecstacies. faces and compositions.
i love all of them. And this time i take a glance again.
at you. this poem. this is you. Believe me.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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The First Poem
The first poem I ever read
is the first words I ever said.
The words I love you
written by this beauty's tongue
turned a heart rosy red from a somber blue
and made me burn for my heart was wrung.
The first poem I ever read
is the first poem I ever said.
On her poetic lips love words refined
and shaped a sonnet on her flesh defined
On those lips I read a poet's song
And knew it was there my lips belonged.
The first poem I ever read
is the first words I ever said.
I love you, I love you
What does it mean?
These words said, to start anew
something pure and something serene.
The first words I ever read
is the first words I ever said.
Those first words she whispered into my ear
And in my heart, her poem stood near
Those are the most beautiful words one ever said
I love you, I love you, will live till its dead.
The first poem I ever read
is the first words I ever said.
I read her lips, I love you, I love you..
now to sleep I go in love's sweet bed.
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy

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Words... (Tiny Bodies)
words have tiny bodies,
some young, some aged beyond thought.
words carry swords and plant tears,
words form tiny lamps in darkness.
words express the unexpressable,
ride bicycles on children's journeys.
words taunt silence with definition....
and some of the best are never spoken.
words heal wounds, and fill bowls,
weave webs while we sleep.
words often turn and betray us,
and often die for our sins.
words create universes,
and shed their clothes on well lit stages.
words translate both the wolf and the whale,
and bear the flag of mountains.
words bear children, but leave no tracks.
words hammer rusty nails.
words never ever wear shoes,
and dance with every other step.
words stroke the breast and touch the lips,
without apology or fear.
words give stars their destiny,
and name every grain of sand!
poem by Eric Cockrell

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Without You Tonight
all i need
is a pebble inside
the cup
of my palms
there is no need
for words even
not a syllable
or a vowel
in my tongue
i need the full moon
above my head
pleasing to
my eyes, this time
my heart sings
alone
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Lip Service
Words inspire and words destroy
Words conspire and words annoy
Words spread freedom and words detain
Words believe them in sound refrain
Words of passion in words misleading
Words without action are words without meaning
poem by P.R. Prosper

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Say The Words
Every light shines on you tonight
Making a fool out of me
Why wont this love leave me alone
All of the people in this smoky room
Crowded with faces I know
I feel them watching me watch you
Chorus
Say the words
Say the words
Say the words
Say the words so I can leave its over
Your eyes are deeper
They are worthy of many words
But none I can conjure up will do for you
I shouldnt see you
cause I know my own motivation
Its taking too long for this love
To leave me alone
Chorus
Say the words
Say the words
Say the words
Say the words so I can leave its over
Bridge
Oh love you worry me
When you say youll wait forever
I have another life
We just cannot be together
Chorus
Say the words
Say the words
Say the words
Say the words say them for me
I need to hear you say its over
Say the words
Say the words
Say the words so I can leave its over
song performed by by Vonda Shepard

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tintagel
DEAD man! will you ride with me,
As you rode that night of yore,
Will you ride with me, once more
To Tintagel by the sea?
When those savage words were said--
Words that challenged destiny--
To Tintagel by the sea,
Through the sweating night we fled!
Hearts, that raged with storm and sea,
Thundered through the scream of rain;
Laugh and ride with me again,
Take my kisses thirstily!
Clutch the cloak that flies apart,
Grip the stallion with your knee:
Let my wild, black tresses be
Once more pinioned on your heart.
Dream is dead, and dead are we:
But the dead rise up again!
Once more through the night and rain,
Dead man! will you ride with me?
poem by Muriel Stuart

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The gift of words
Some words I swallowed
Like pots of rain
Their beauty quenched the thirst
Some words I swallowed
Like fire and pain
Their bitterness left me cursed
Some words I wrote
In anger and haste
And spat them on the palm
Some words I sought
To heal be chaste
To find the peace be calm
Some words I followed
Like footprints lost
In dying piles of leaves
Some words I followed
Like benevolent host
Once he really receives
Both the gift of words
Right from the lips
That used to sing the poles
And the gift of words
When the mind slips
Into the broken holes
©Miroslava Odalović
poem by Miroslava Odalovic

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Untitled 15
there is a mountain of words
an ocean of words
a continent of words
there is a rain of words
a flood of words
a river of words and true to their being words
they also disintegrate as syllables
on the other hand some form the clauses
conditions and terms
some make sentences and paragraphs
a world of words full of words
i am not a word and i am buried in a mountain of words
a sea of words i drown
a continent of words i am condemned to walk all the days of my life
too may words my ears do not listen anymore.
my eyes do not like to read anymore.
i like something not having to do with words.
what about a touch? what about a picture?
what about a kiss?
why don't people just make love without saying a word?
let us start touching the hearts of people
to avoid this war of words that lead us to our own perdition.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Said The Poet To The Analyst
My business is words. Words are like labels,
or coins, or better, like swarming bees.
I confess I am only broken by the sources of things;
as if words were counted like dead bees in the attic,
unbuckled from their yellow eyes and their dry wings.
I must always forget who one words is able to pick
out another, to manner another, until I have got
somethhing I might have said…
but did not.
Your business is watching my words. But I
admit nothing. I worth with my best, for instances,
when I can write my praise for a nickel machine,
that one night in Nevada: telling how the magic jackpot
came clacking three bells out, over the lucky screen.
But if you should say this is something it is not,
then I grow weak, remembering how my hands felt funny
and ridiculous and crowded with all
the believing money.
poem by Anne Sexton

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Dead Man Walking
[bonus track]
All of you here that are secretly dead
Just lifeless shells, consumed and bled
Oblivious to reason and you are blind
Follow the trends to share a single mind
You are so blind to the lie
I can see into the void of you mind
Hiding behind eyes of black
A dead man I will find
Kneel to the savior who really cares less
His holy eyes fill you with fear and dread
Obey those rules from ancient history
Forgotten words that mean nothing to me
You are so blind to the lie
I can see into the void of you mind
Hiding behind eyes of black
A dead man I will find
song performed by by Fear Factory

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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i teach my child by G. Abad
I.
I teach my child
To survive.
I begin with our words,
The simple words first
And last.
They are hardest to learn.
Words like home,
Or friend, or to forgive.
These words are relations.
They are difficult to bear;
Their fruits are unseen.
Or words that promise
Or dream.
Words like honor, or certainty,
Or cheer.
Rarest of sound,
Their roots run deep;
These are words that aspire,
They cast no shade.
These are not words
To speak.
These are the words
Of which we consist,
Indefinite,
Without other ground.
II.
My child
Is without syllables
To utter him,
Captive yet to his origin
In silence.
By every word
To rule his space,
He is released;
He is shaped by his speech.
Every act, too,
Is first without words.
There's no rehearsal
To adjust your deed
From direction of its words.
The words are given,
But there's no script.
Their play is hidden,
We are their stage.
These are the words
That offer to our care
Both sky and earth,
These same words
That may elude our acts.
If we speak them
But cannot meet their sound,
They strand us still
In our void,
Blank like the child
With the uphill silence
Of his words' climb.
And so,
I teach my child
To survive.
I begin with our words,
The simple words first
And last.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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The Toys
My little Son, who look'd from thoughtful eyes
And moved and spoke in quiet grown-up wise,
Having my law the seventh time disobey'd,
I struck him, and dismiss'd
With hard words and unkiss'd,
—His Mother, who was patient, being dead.
Then, fearing lest his grief should hinder sleep,
I visited his bed,
But found him slumbering deep,
With darken'd eyelids, and their lashes yet
From his late sobbing wet.
And I, with moan,
Kissing away his tears, left others of my own;
For, on a table drawn beside his head,
He had put, within his reach,
A box of counters and a red-vein'd stone,
A piece of glass abraded by the beach,
And six or seven shells,
A bottle with bluebells,
And two French copper coins, ranged there with careful art,
To comfort his sad heart.
So when that night I pray'd
To God, I wept, and said:
Ah, when at last we lie with trancèd breath,
Not vexing Thee in death,
And Thou rememberest of what toys
We made our joys,
How weakly understood
Thy great commanded good,
Then, fatherly not less
Than I whom Thou hast moulded from the clay,
Thou'lt leave Thy wrath, and say,
'I will be sorry for their childishness.'
poem by Coventry Patmore

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Three Words
Three laconic words I love you enshroud
The hearts of those of dead love
Angels whom hide behind love's cloud
Below here on earth from up above
Each line a line in their ivory dipped wings
I love you I love you captivate
Thine hearts of hearts the angels sing
As our hearts draw close and gravitate
Dead words in dead song the poet grieves
At the grave of love of dead grizzled white
To resurrect thee with I love you he believes
In love, every love, love at first sight
As the clouds, separate and light shine through
All hearts eyes gaze and learn
It's true, it's true
In the words I love you we burn….
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy

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Words
Words are my weapon
words are my shield
Guns and knifes just ruin lives
so words I keep concealed
Words are all I have here
they help me struggle on
Words are here forever,
when all I have is gone
In my thoughts or in my poems
Words will help ease my brain
I write down what is on my mind
Expressing love or feeling pain
Not that many I can trust
But words I can depend
Words wont turn there back on you
Words are my only friend
poem by Nic Hillen

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Three Little Words
Three words are spoken,
And then forgotten.
Three little words I wish to say,
But hold back the unknown.
My head is dizzy,
My eyes are blurry.
All I think about are,
Those three little words.
For now I will hide,
Those three little words.
Hoping one day,
I can tell him freely.
But those three little words,
Are ‘I love you.’
poem by Mariah Simpson

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