Late Summer
(ALCAICS)
Confused, he found her lavishing feminine
Gold upon clay, and found her inscrutable;
And yet she smiled. Why, then, should horrors
Be as they were, without end, her playthings?
And why were dead years hungrily telling her
Lies of the dead, who told them again to her?
If now she knew, there might be kindness
Clamoring yet where a faith lay stifled.
A little faith in him, and the ruinous
Past would be for time to annihilate,
And wash out, like a tide that washes
Out of the sand what a child has drawn there.
God, what a shining handful of happiness,
Made out of days and out of eternities,
Were now the pulsing end of patience—
Could he but have what a ghost had stolen!
What was a man before him, or ten of them,
While he was here alive who could answer them,
And in their teeth fling confirmations
Harder than agates against an egg-shell?
But now the man was dead, and would come again
Never, though she might honor ineffably
The flimsy wraith of him she conjured
Out of a dream with his wand of absence.
And if the truth were now but a mummery,
Meriting pride’s implacable irony,
So much the worse for pride. Moreover,
Save her or fail, there was conscience always.
Meanwhile, a few misgivings of innocence,
Imploring to be sheltered and credited,
Were not amiss when she revealed them.
Whether she struggled or not, he saw them.
Also, he saw that while she was hearing him
Her eyes had more and more of the past in them;
And while he told what cautious honor
Told him was all he had best be sure of,
He wondered once or twice, inadvertently,
Where shifting winds were driving his argosies,
Long anchored and as long unladen,
Over the foam for the golden chances.
“If men were not for killing so carelessly,
And women were for wiser endurances,”
He said, “we might have yet a world here
Fitter for Truth to be seen abroad in;
“If Truth were not so strange in her nakedness,
And we were less forbidden to look at it,
We might not have to look.” He stared then
Down at the sand where the tide threw forward
Its cold, unconquered lines, that unceasingly
Foamed against hope, and fell. He was calm enough,
Although he knew he might be silenced
Out of all calm; and the night was coming.
“I climb for you the peak of his infamy
That you may choose your fall if you cling to it.
No more for me unless you say more.
All you have left of a dream defends you:
“The truth may be as evil an augury
As it was needful now for the two of us.
We cannot have the dead between us.
Tell me to go, and I go.”—She pondered:
“What you believe is right for the two of us
Makes it as right that you are not one of us.
If this be needful truth you tell me,
Spare me, and let me have lies hereafter.”
She gazed away where shadows were covering
The whole cold ocean’s healing indifference.
No ship was coming. When the darkness
Fell, she was there, and alone, still gazing.
poem by Edwin Arlington Robinson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
The Clinging Vine
“Be calm? And was I frantic?
You’ll have me laughing soon.
I’m calm as this Atlantic,
And quiet as the moon;
I may have spoken faster
Than once, in other days;
For I’ve no more a master,
And now—‘Be calm,’ he says.
“Fear not, fear no commotion,—
I’ll be as rocks and sand;
The moon and stars and ocean
Will envy my command;
No creature could be stiller
In any kind of place
Than I … No, I’ll not kill her;
Her death is in her face.
“Be happy while she has it,
For she’ll not have it long;
A year, and then you’ll pass it,
Preparing a new song.
And I’m a fool for prating
Of what a year may bring,
When more like her are waiting
For more like you to sing.
“You mock me with denial,
You mean to call me hard?
You see no room for trial
When all my doors are barred?
You say, and you’d say dying,
That I dream what I know;
And sighing, and denying,
You’d hold my hand and go.
“You scowl—and I don’t wonder;
I spoke too fast again;
But you’ll forgive one blunder,
For you are like most men:
You are,—or so you’ve told me,
So many mortal times,
That heaven ought not to hold me
Accountable for crimes.
“Be calm? Was I unpleasant?
Then I’ll be more discreet,
And grant you, for the present,
The balm of my defeat:
What she, with all her striving,
Could not have brought about,
You’ve done. Your own contriving
Has put the last light out.
“If she were the whole story,
If worse were not behind,
I’d creep with you to glory,
Believing I was blind;
I’d creep, and go on seeming
To be what I despise.
You laugh, and say I’m dreaming,
And all your laughs are lies.
“Are women mad? A few are,
And if it’s true you say—
If most men are as you are—
We’ll all be mad some day.
Be calm—and let me finish;
There’s more for you to know.
I’ll talk while you diminish,
And listen while you grow.
“There was a man who married
Because he couldn’t see;
And all his days he carried
The mark of his degree.
But you—you came clear-sighted,
And found truth in my eyes;
And all my wrongs you’ve righted
With lies, and lies, and lies.
“You’ve killed the last assurance
That once would have me strive
To rouse an old endurance
That is no more alive.
It makes two people chilly
To say what we have said,
But you—you’ll not be silly
And wrangle for the dead.
“You don’t? You never wrangle?
Why scold then,—or complain?
More words will only mangle
What you’ve already slain.
Your pride you can’t surrender?
My name—for that you fear?
Since when were men so tender,
And honor so severe?
“No more—I’ll never bear it.
I’m going. I’m like ice.
My burden? You would share it?
Forbid the sacrifice!
Forget so quaint a notion,
And let no more be told;
For moon and stars and ocean
And you and I are cold.”
poem by Edwin Arlington Robinson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Honest Truth
the truth is i love you
the truth is i always dream of you at night
the truth is i do my best to hide it from you
the truth is the future is blank without you
the truth is i am hurting
the truth is i am scared
i am scared how i pretend in front of everyone
the truth is a cannot tell anyone of this
the truth is i cannot even tell you
then it starts to hurt even more
the truth is i'm scared to tell you
the truth is you might be scared to break her heart
the truth is i'm scared you might love me too
the truth is i am not happy
the truth is i don't feel the love i want
the truth is i want to be loved by you only
the truth is you're too blind to see
the truth is you might not believe me if i told you
the truth is you might be scared of it
the truth is the emotional distance kills me
the truth is being close to you makes it worse
should i tell you this truth?
would you believe this truth?
the truth....the truth....the truth...
i'm the only one who knows the
and this truth hurts
because the truth is i love you
the truth is i love you
the truth is i still love you....
03 August 2010
poem by Neo Patricia Monamodi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The 'Truth
How do we know we are speaking the truth.
Because we got it from a 'reliable' source,
And who told you it was a 'reliable' source.
Ha, Is there any thing that is really called the truth.
For, every 'truth' told in this twisted and sinister world,
A lie is invented, concocted, told.
And when a question is asked, and the truth is required,
And if told, many events, considered dire,
Happen in response,
A white lie is told.
But the whitest lie, considered the truthful lie,
Thought up by those considered wise and selfless,
Is really the darkest, blackest, most deceiving lies of all.
Over time stories, true stories, turn to myths, myths to legends.
so why not lies, white lies too.
Centuries, years, maybe even weeks and days,
Turns the most deceiving and evil lies into the 'truth'.
So I come back to my original question,
But don't misconstrue my words,
For I dear not defy the truth,
The truth, so rare, that passes us unnoticed, unseen, undetected,
The rare truth that exists in this dark, sinister world.
So yes,
How do we know we are speaking the truth.
The truth, the truth, the lie.
poem by Michael Devenish
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The Lying Truth
How do we know we are speaking the truth.
Because we got it from a 'reliable' source,
And who told you it was a 'reliable' source.
Ha, Is there any thing that is really called the truth.
For, every 'truth' told in this twisted and sinister world,
A lie is invented, concocted, told.
And when a question is asked, and the truth is required,
And if told, many events, considered dire,
Happen in response,
A white lie is told.
But the whitest lie, considered the truthful lie,
Thought up by those considered wise and selfless,
Is really the darkest, blackest, most deceiving lies of all.
Over time stories, true stories, turn to myths, myths to legends.
so why not lies, white lies too.
Centuries, years, maybe even weeks and days,
Turns the most deceiving and evil lies into the 'truth'.
So I come back to my original question,
But don't misconstrue my words,
For I dear not defy the truth,
The truth, so rare, that passes us unnoticed, unseen, undetected,
The rare truth that exists in this dark, sinister world.
So yes,
How do we know we are speaking the truth.
The truth, the truth, the lie.
poem by Michael Devenish
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Woman and the Wife
I--THE EXPLANATION
"You thought we knew," she said, "but we were wrong.
This we can say, the rest we do not say;
Nor do I let you throw yourself away
Because you love me. Let us both be strong,
And we shall find in sorrow, before long,
Only the price Love ruled that we should pay:
The dark is the end of every day,
And silence is the end of every song.
"You ask me for one more proof that I speak right,
But I can answer only what I know;
You look for just one lie to make black white,
But I can tell you only what is true--
God never made me for the wife of you.
This we can say,--believe me! . . . Tell me so!"
II--THE ANNIVERSARY
"Give me the truth, whatever it may be.
You thought we knew, but now tell me what you miss:
You are the one to tell me what it is--
You are a man, and you have married me.
What is it worth to-night that you can see
More marriage in the dream of one dead kiss
Than in a thousand years of life like this?
Passion has turned the lock. Pride keeps the key.
"Whatever I have said or left unsaid,
Whatever I have done or left undone,--
Tell me. Tell me the truth . . . Are you afraid?
Do you think that Love was ever fed with lies
But hunger lived thereafter in his eyes?
Do you ask me to take moonlight for the sun?"
poem by Edwin Arlington Robinson
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Truth
The truth about a truth is that
The truth can’t be concealed for long;
And when revealed, the truth appears
A bigger truth than what it was.
Truth is beautiful; splendid;
Truth is eternal; everlasting;
Truth is endearing to righteous hearts;
Truth is consoling, comforting;
Truth is perennial; evergreen;
Truth is God.
Truth is a virtue all yearn for;
Truth is global, heavenly;
Truth is uncompromising;
Truth is always encouraging;
Truth is desirable; exhilarating.
Truth is mankind’s ultimate search;
Truth is a great topic of research;
Truth is delighting; enchanting;
Truth is trust-worthy from
Beginning to the end.
No lies can hide a truth for long;
No lies can make a lie, a truth;
All lies will vanish leaving truth exposed,
As bright as ever any time.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 21-08-2010
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To Stare Truth Directly in the Eye
Unaware, kept in the darkness
Like bread of life lies were offered and consumed
Accepted in my youthful innocence
Oh what a tormenting grip on me you held
I knew not when the veil was lifted
With such swiftness the floodgates would be opened
Truth pouring forth, surging with mighty force
Consuming like a fire, purging the essence of my soul
Freeing memories from a haunted past
I beg the world not look upon me with contempt
For truth to me were the lies I had been fed
A child being nurtured in the guise of righteousness
Innocence being bathed in unholy transgression
When the truth to me was revealed
I tried to hide my face from light
Tried to hide the shame
Tried to be consumed in pain
Longed for darkness all around
Oh such a frightening thing to stare truth directly in the eye
It ushers in revelations of the past
Now embracing what was mine all along
For truth had not been stolen away
Only locked away for me to find
All along the key was me
Oh such a freeing thing to stare truth directly in the eye
poem by Jennifer Batch
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Paradox of Truth
The most subtle lies art the greatest truth
Like the fairy tales of our imaginative youth
Each truth a paradox, a lie does tell
A truth somewhere in mythical spell
When one lies, truth still speaks
For in everything doth truth seek
To express itself to hearts to behold
The truth of life in every lie told
Told in such eloquent song
There is truth in something especially wrong
Rhetoric, myths, ignorance and lies
Truth in all, every truth belies.
If thou don't believe it is certainly true
For to believe is true to me and you
And in this poem if you believe no truth
Let this poem be truth's own proof….
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Here Lie's The truth
“Here Lies the truth”,
On Her tombstone this will be wrote.
It was never spoke when She was living,
So also in death, it will be unspoke.
By Her it was never said
it was as though pulling out Her soul,
So here lies the truth and herself dead
Both has died in sadness and woe.
Here lies the truth,
Not once by her was it cried,
Not in the days that she was living,
Not even in the day that She had died.
She must of believed that it was a sin
To open Her heart and listen to the word
So She closed her heart and locked it shut,
And She never believed in no one but Her.
Here lies the truth,
It lived but a very short life,
Though the Woman died of years of age
The truth though, never had a chance to try.
Everyone She knew had learned Her lie
They never believed a word that she said
So when She finally tried to speak the truth,
Her heart stopped; and She laid dead.
Here lies the truth
It lived but a very short life,
It was loved by neither Child or Man,
For they believe its living was but a lie.
So here in the grave it will lay dead
As it had lived in this woman's soul,
Never again will it be uttered or thought of,
Never till the end of time will it be thought of or known.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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Truth Be Told
This is the first tale of death in the world
When Cain struck down Abel, a family broken
Since then mankind's dominated his own kind
To insult and injured there's no such thing
As peace, till death do us part
Till that last (truth be told)
Sin lies at the doorway (truth be told)
Hell's open for business now (truth be told)
The soil cries out for revenge (truth be told)
And death is upon the ground, all around
The battle ain't over, without spoils of war
Just 'cause it is written, does not make it so
When you dance with the devil, make sure the song's over
I ask myself how bad do i want you to live
My anger is near
Till that last (truth be told)
Sin lies at the doorway (truth be told)
Hell's open for business now (truth be told)
The soil cries out for revenge (truth be told)
And death is upon the ground
Sin lies at the doorway (truth be told)
Hell's open for business now (truth be told)
The soil cries out for revenge (truth be told)
And death is upon the ground, all around
Solo- Mustaine
Solo- Mustaine
Tribulation strikes again and we're hit hard
Still you just go on your way
Head in the sand, ignoring the rain
Just like the flood in Noah's day
In his day
Solo- Mustaine
Can't punish those ruining the earth
It's suicide to some degree
Because we are all guilty, guilty as sin
There will be no peace, never for you and me
Solo- Mustaine
Before al Qaeda and Bin Laden
Long before Hitler and Hussein
Ever since the first murder was committed
The verdict's always been the same
Been the same, wrong!
Solo- Mustaine
The cursed future just repeats the past
There's hell to pay and stones to cast
So, there will be no peace, never be peace
Till the last truth be told by you and me
Solo- Mustaine
song performed by by Megadeth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dangling From The Truth...
legends tells no lies
but love is
just twisted deep inside
crumple all together
with the schemes and the lies
where the truth comes out
spills overloaded with filth
tryin to cover it up
theres no uses
given all the wrong pieces
told way too many lies
i cant define
whats truly inside
given up
lost with no dreams
useless soul
dangling from the truth
what does it hold inside
nothing
i cant find
too many lies
We’re dangling from the truth
hiding within
covering the light with darkness
gray clouds hover over us
watching our every move
but we're hiding
hiding from the truth
running towards our last hope
with u
collapse
we're traped
lost in the darkness
forever
never to be told
the truth
dangling
from the truth...
poem by Sen unknown
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Woman and the Wife
I--THE EXPLANATION
"You thought we knew," she said, "but we were wrong.
This we can say, the rest we do not say;
Nor do I let you throw yourself away
Because you love me. Let us both be strong,
And we shall find in sorrow, before long,
Only the price Love ruled that we should pay:
The dark is the end of every day,
And silence is the end of every song.
"You ask me for one more proof that I speak right,
But I can answer only what I know;
You look for just one lie to make black white,
But I can tell you only what is true--
God never made me for the wife of you.
This we can say,--believe me! . . . Tell me so!"
II--THE ANNIVERSARY
"Give me the truth, whatever it may be.
You thought we knew, but now tell me what you miss:
You are the one to tell me what it is--
You are a man, and you have married me.
What is it worth to-night that you can see
More marriage in the dream of one dead kiss
Than in a thousand years of life like this?
Passion has turned the lock. Pride keeps the key.
"Whatever I have said or left unsaid,
Whatever I have done or left undone,--
Tell me. Tell me the truth . . . Are you afraid?
Do you think that Love was ever fed with lies
But hunger lived thereafter in his eyes?
Do you ask me to take moonlight for the sun?"
poem by Edwin Arlington Robinson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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On Speaking The Truth
I have heard many times,
Of my elders speaking this,
Speak truth even ye commit crimes,
And please God by doing this,
If the truth you always speak,
Your head will he high like a peak.
The most senior in saints of all,
And Abdul Qadir was his name,
Advised his mother telling not lies at all,
And obedient son did the same,
Before the robbers the truth he quoth,
Its result, to mend they took oath.
No doubt speaking the truth is hard,
Like the steam from the water,
But hearing the truth is too much hard,
Like from steam being water,
I be hardly recognized by thee,
My mostly friends are against me.
That he be happy like skylark,
On muddy ground does never land,
Reaching his nest before being dark,
So never he falls on the sand,
And can soar does where he desire,
No stain is there on his attire.
For a truth many lies be told,
Like the sun by clouds hidden,
And as smuggling the precious gold,
But, miraj ends at all of sudden,
When curtain removes from the sin,
The truth will certainly win.
poem by Mohammad Muzzammil
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In the Alley of Truth
As I was standing by the hillside
A voice spoke to me
It said this world you have forgotten
Will finally be set free
And I prayed to a spirit
I wasn't completely sure of
But what if I wanted to fall
Instead of come up to find love
Oh, these lies
Killing me
Killing me
Shot dead
Darkness
Oh, it's you
In the alley of truth
I see the sparkle in your eye
You can't deny it
As I spoke to the river
And breathed life to you
You turned your head away
Away from the truth
The truth
The truth
Where can I find the truth?
Is it inside of me?
Where can I find the truth?
Is it here with me?
I can't say
Please don't let me go
I'm lost
Be my light
Be my guide
You are so
poem by Pete Rivera
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Wells Of Truth
Tell me
tales of truth.
Truth is as
elusive as water
in oceans of
Arabian desert sand.
Truth may be
soaked up totally
in a desert of
whispered words.
Truth may be
washed away totally
by a torrent river of
well told lies.
Truth may be
blown away totally
in a blizzard storm of
orchestrated misinformation.
Tell me tales of truth
told throughout history!
I will listen well
intently to your stories of
culturally half sun baked
studied scholastic lies.
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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All That I Give
Why do you hate me?
Why does he hate me?
Why does she hate me
And all I want to be?
I want to be alive
I want to be dead
I want to survive
And scream 'Off with my head! '
My hair is blonde
My hair is black
You're dead and gone
So don't come back
My eyes are brown
My eyes are blue
I always frown
When I see you
You make me scream
You hurt my pride
You bust my seams
From deep inside
You want me alive
You want me dead
You want me to survive
Yet scream 'Off with her head! '
I've cried for you
I've lied for you
I've given it all
That which led to my downfall
I've told you the truth
And given you lies
And all the rest
I hide deep inside
So go screw yourself,
You greedy damn whelp!
And don't come back
'Cause I won't help!
You wanted the truth?
Well, here it is:
You don't deserve me
And all that I give
You won't get me back
As long as I live
I'm on the attack
I'll get back what I give
I've given you life
I've given you lies
I've given you hair
I've given you eyes
I've given you smiles
I've given you frowns
With you I have been
Through the ups and downs
But enough is enough!
I'm done with you now!
You don't deserve love;
You disgusting, selfish cow!
poem by Gwenevere Cornwell
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Speak the truth and you'll be heard.
She told me she cared,
I knew she lied,
She told them she cared,
They knew she lied,
She said she wanted me to be the best,
I knew she lied,
She said to them she wanted me to be the best,
They knew she lied,
She whispered she loved me,
I knew she lied,
She whispered to them she loved me,
They knew she lied,
She pretended everything when I was there,
She pretended to love me,
She pretended to care,
She said she wanted me to be happy,
We all knew the truth was not what she speak,
We all knew the truth was just about to leak,
We all knew the truth would come out,
We all knew the truth, with no doubt,
She was just like the people surrounding,
Pretending, acting, lying,
So the truth is what I spoke when I spoke to her,
I told her the truth is true, the truth is fair,
I told her...
If it's a lie, don't say another word,
However, speak the truth, and you'll be heard,
To lie to someone who truly loves you for you,
Is one of the most cruel things you can ever do,
To let them believe what you say to them is true,
When really all your thinking about is you, you and you.
poem by Jodie Louise Pollock
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Truth & Lies
Truth stands to last
Lies fall so fast
Truth shows the light
Lies bring the blight
Truth makes a way
Lies spoil the day
Truth makes life groom
Lies give life doom
Truth leads to gains
Lies lead to pains
Truth you cherish
Lies you don’t fish
Truth gives one thrill
Lies make one ill
poem by Obinna Kenechukwu Eruchie
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Truthful Lies
The truth in that
Is that the truth will never be truth.
To them,
It's all lies, because they lie.
The truth is masked,
It bears no light.
It is carried a thousand miles,
Tossed into stones,
Mixed in with pride.
Stamped on postcards.
It is shuffled amongst the lies,
It is marked as spam.
The breaths that carry,
The minds that corrupt it,
They bear no guilt.
The truth is never forgotten.
No matter how fictitious it's made.
Through time it is mended,
Sometimes changed back into the truth itself.
It is rejected.
It is simply the truth they want to see.
A lie is the truth,
Because it is made to be what they need.
poem by Erick Flores
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rest In Peace
WHO DARES TO DISTURB THE DEAD?
WHY THEN IS THE DEAD A GHOST?
THEY ARE ABROAD THAT OUGHT TO BE AT REST,
YEA, THE DEAD NO LONGER RESTS IN PEACE,
TELL YE THE TRUTH,
DOES THE DEAD LIVE ON IN CAPTIVITY?
WHY THEN DOES THE DEAD CRY FOR IT'S LOST INNOCENCE?
THOUGH I BE DEAD,
I LIVE ON IN TEARS,
I WEEP FOR MY LOST INNOCENCE,
YEA, THE DEAD NO LONGER REST IN PEACE,
THE THIEVES HAVE STOLEN MY LIFE AND MY DEATH,
YEA, NO ONE DEAD, EVER REST'S IN PEACE!
poem by Overlord Don Manuel Ihcakeyno
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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