Images
All the images that occur in my mind
have had me think of places.
I may not have seen them in this life
But then again my memory erases
where they are from or why they are seen.
Could they be from another time?
They seem to haunt my being.
Oh that I could remember
what it is I'm seeing?
They're all mixed up with love and death
and I confess my need to know
why they've surfaced in my mind
and why they never let go.
I remember the images mostly at night
right before I sleep.
They form water-colored pictures
and sometimes make me weep.
not from sadness, but from joy.
For the images have made me think
that they have surfaced for some reason.
So from them I do not shrink.
I want them to stay. I really do.
For they connect to who I am.
For I've known since I was very young
that life after death comes again.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Related quotes
Indelible Images
Idelible Images
That first day of school
That first friend
Indelible Images
That first play
That first fight
Idelible Images
That first graduation
That first car
Idelible Images
That first drunk
That first sober
Idelible Images
That first love
That first forget
Idelible Images
That first death
That first realization
Indelible Images
poem by Scott Tetreault
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Images of Time
The images in my mind is like my thoughts.
Expressing my thoughts is like expressing my feelings.
Words are spoken.All my images are broken.
Broken down into pieces, which can never be made into new dishes.
Those images of past.It takes time to last.
It will last forever for met to take over.
All those images wore my past life.
But it has nothing to do with my past life.
Those images can be forgotten.But not those people.
Those people who are in your images.Can be in a real image.
When you see those people in front of you.
You like to say 'How are you'?
If they say I am fine.Then you will think of those time.
poem by Yash Pradhan
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Images
I think images are worth repeating
Images repeated from a painting
Images taken from a painting
From a photo worth re-seeing
I love images worth repeating
Project them upon the ceiling
Multiply them with silk screening
See them with a different feeling
Images, oh, images
Images, oh, images
Some say images have no feeling
I think theres a deeper meaning
Mechanical precision or so its seeming
Instigates a cooler feeling
I love multiplicity of screenings
Things born anew display new meanings
I think images are worth repeating
And repeating and repeating
Images, oh, images
Images, images
Im no urban idiot savant
Spewing paint without any order
Im no sphinx, no mystery enigma
What I paint is very ordinary
I dont think Im old or modern
I dont think I think Im thinking
It doesnt matter what Im thinking
Its the images that are worth repeating
And repeating, oh, images
Images
If youre looking for a deeper meaning
Im as deep as this high ceiling
If you think technique is meaning
You might find me very simple
You might think that images boring
Cars and cans and chairs and flowers
You might find me personally boring
Hammer, sickle, mao tse tong
Mao tse tong
Ooohhh, images, images
Images
I think that it bears repeating
The images upon the ceiling
I love images worth repeating
And repeating and repeating
Images, images
Oh, images, oh, images
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Those' Images Made
People love to treasure those images made.
Those images created to help them escape,
From depictions of reality.
And the way the displaying of it is portrayed.
People love to treasure those images made.
People love to treasure those images made.
The ones flowered to sugar without a bitter taste.
Those images glammed up to spotlight,
On a public stage.
But behind the scenes indignities can be mean.
Yet...
People love to treasure those images made.
And their minds are affixed to them to defend...
Every blemish that is openly seen.
Since people who love their images made...
Have not been conditioned on reality to feast.
People love to treasure those images made.
Those images created to help them escape,
From depictions of reality.
And the way the displaying of it is portrayed.
People love to treasure those images made,
With an excusing of detrimental flaws and pain shown.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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In Working With Images....
when we work with images
they become real, touchable,
i, too, smell
what has been transformed by
a dream
like a bread
baked
sending its fresh flavor
in the air
hot tea is served in the cold
corners of the mind
i am seeing beauty
and shapes of bodies come out from
glossy paper
i severed myself from the pains of
you
the images are real and they do not ask
if things are moral
i embrace all these images for the main reason
that i must live
my life
amidst the rules of this mundane games
every night i sleep late
transforming what this world thinks as invisible
in the morning
virtual leaves fall at the foot of the real tree
on top of grass, as green as my mind
flowers are flaming
like fire
in my belly.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Images
Images.
Images invented.
Images invented to cement.
Images invented to cement and limit,
To give images purpose and intent.
A reason to solidify limitations that prevent,
A bombardment of unrestricted imaginations.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Lady Of Shalott Wove Her Tapestry
the Lady of Shalott wove her tapestry over time time time
copying mirrored images faithfully seen in mind mind mind
her weaving life scenes days passing was safe slow slow slow
unfolding life mysteries ever window passing must time go go go
mirrored images replace life risk realities if we safe stay stay stay
love glimpsed mirror cracks heart spins fate feared today today today
love births embraced unfrequented love three steps slays slays slays
poem by Terence George Craddock
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I Against I
I-ya,
I against I,
Flesh of my flesh,
And mind of my mind,
Two of a kind but one won't survive,
My images reflect in the enemies eye,
And his images reflect in mine the same time,
I-ya, I-ya,
I against I,
Flesh of my flesh,
And mind of my mind,
Two of a kind but one won't survive,
Right here is where the end gon' start at,
Conflict, contact 'n' combat,
Fighters stand where the land is marked at,
Settle the dispute about who the livest,
3 word answer,
Whoever survive this,
Only one of us can ride forever,
So you and I cant ride together,
Can't live or cant die together,
All we can do is collide together,
So I skillfully apply the pressure,
Won't stop until I'm forever... One!
A door step where death never come,
Spread across time til my time never done,
And I'm never done,
Walk tall, why ever run?
When they move if I ever come?
Bad man never fret the war, tell'em come
General we have the stock, the mad fire burn
I-ya,
I against I,
Flesh of my flesh,
And mind of my mind,
Two of a kind but one won't survive,
My images reflect in the enemies eye,
And his images reflect in mine the same time,
I-ya, I-ya,
I against I,
Flesh of my flesh,
And mind of my mind,
Two of a kind but one won't survive,
Survive (x16)
Reign supreme in your U-N-I,
V-E-R-S-E with the sharpness,
Narrow row building no space for partners,
No space for drivers, no space for walkers,
No space regardless,
Your on my path then get off it,
Hardheaded and unresponsive,
Get they lives put on target with harshness,
Come wit
song performed by by Massive Attack
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Eyes Of Mr D (Part 1)
They took the cotton gauze away
from his closed eyes.
“You can open them now Mr D.”
He opened his eyes to see hazy figures there,
black and grey images, and nothing more.
A gentle and kind voice, asked him what he saw.
“Hazy images>“He replied.
“It will be like that for a little while,
and then they will begin to clear.”
Each day his sight got better, the
haze began to clear.
Then the colour came,
and a rainbow spectrum appeared before his eyes,
of things he could never see.
A light shone through his life,
of things he had never known.
A new awakening
with images to fit the sounds.
His mind began to wonder
where his new eyes had come from.
They were not allowed to tell him,
who the donor was or anything about them.
Finally, he was released from hospital.
He went back to his flat
where he had to learn again,
where everything was now that he could see.
He smiled at the white walking stick.
He would keep it as a reminder
of how lucky he was.
Sitting in his chair in the sunshine,
as it came through the window.
Then it happened.
It was as if he were in a dream.
The images lost their colour.
He was in a place he had never seen before.
Hands reached out around the neck,
of a face he could not see.
It seemed as if
they were strangling the life out of someone there.
The body struggled and then went limp.
On the body, falling, the face was now revealed.
A young pretty face
distorted in the throes of death.
poem by David Harris
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Three Hours After Midnight
I was lying awake trying to stop my mind from thought,
but I was losing the fight, my attention was caught.
Sleep was the last thing my mind had in store for me;
it intended to saturate my thoughts with creativity.
It mixed words and flowing colours in an extraordinary blend,
slowly, at speed, smooth, then textured, the mix had no end.
The flowing beauty made no sense; however, for a second it did,
but the speed of the images made everything appear short lived.
I couldn’t capture or freeze any image and retain it in my mind,
my memory couldn’t cope with the instantaneous designs.
The images became chaotic, as I tried to slow everything down.
I thought I’d succeeded, but it only slowed to turn things around.
I became hot and sweaty, and threw back the covers from my bed,
this mental turmoil was having an effect outside my head.
I had to get up to splash cold water over my eyes and face,
and then I just sat trying to stop my thoughts from taking place.
Eventually, feeling more relaxed I lay down and closed my eyes.
I was in a light blue sky, with soft white clouds passing slowly by.
Peace and calm had come to a turbulent and unpredictable mind,
my thoughts were pleasant and slower, at last, I’d found dream time.
poem by Orlando Belo
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Although images of perfection in people's personal lives can cause unhappiness, images of perfect societies - utopian images - can cause monstrous evil. In fact, forcefully changing society to conform to societal images was the greatest cause of evil in the twentieth century.
quote by Dennis Prager
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Images Presented
The image that's presented,
Determines how impressive...
Those pretentious rush to protect.
And the image that's presented,
Has less to do with intellect.
Or competence and its effect,
Upon those expecting...
Much more than an image projected to accept.
Images old have molded.
Although repeatedly they have been sold!
Those images presented,
Represent times gone.
Those images presented,
Have been rusted so long.
Those images presented,
Do not feed!
Those images presented,
No one needs now!
Those images presented represent a decadence.
And they represent with evidence pretentions that are meant.
Those images presented do not feed.
Those images presented no one needs,
Now.
Those images presented represent a decadence.
And they represent with evidence pretentions that are meant.
Those images presented do not feed.
Those images presented no one needs,
Now.
Those images presented,
Represent times gone.
Those images presented,
Have been rusted so long.
Those images presented do not feed.
Those images presented no one needs,
Now.
Those images presented represent a decadence.
And they represent with evidence pretentions that are meant.
Images old have molded.
Although repeatedly they have been sold!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Allure Love Painted
painting and poetry
are visual sensory
mind image overlays
of allure love painted
written through time
love shapes
through miracle
imagination
to define love
gifted joyfully
to tragic love
expressing dark loss
but always we mix
pigment paint emotions
into life canvas
of life choosing
either spectral
images or images
receptive of light
Dedicated to the painter poet Hosney Soliman.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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The desired one is not desired.
Those days’ actresses whose images once
Captivated you, will fail to do now.
The frame in the brain holding those images
Had changed to hold the images of new ones.’.
25.02.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Death Is Not The End
When youre sad and when youre lonely and you havent got a friend
Just remember that death is not the end
And all that youve held sacred, falls down and does not mend
Just remember that death is no the end
Not the end, not the end
Just remember that death is not the end
When youre standing at the crossroads that you cannot comprehend
Just remember that death is not the end
And all your dreams have vanished and you dont know whats up the bend
Just remember that death is not the end
Not the end, not the end
Just remember that death is not the end
When the storm clouds gather round you, and heavy rains descend
Just remember that death is not the end
And theres no one there to comfort you, with a helpin hand to lend
Just remember that death is not the end
Not the end, not the end
Just remember that death is not the end
Oh, the tree of life is growing
Where the spirit never dies
And the bright light of salvation shines
In dark and empty skies
When the cities are on fire with the burning flesh of men
Just remember that death is not the end
And you search in vain to find just one law abiding citizen
Just remember that death is not the end
Not the end, not the end
Just remember that death is not the end
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Suppose to be
Do you remember
the way life used to be?
Running the streets
yes we were so free?
I remember the things we used to say
Up all night and sleep all day
just thinking about it make my life complete
The times were fun and life was sweet.
Do you remember the way life used to be?
Up all night and sleep all day.
Just yesterday you say you never go away.
What I would do to just to see you today.
Do you remember the way life used to be?
Up all night and sleep all day.
But I am happy to say that my life is better without so much play.....
But I don't regret my past and my youthful days..........
Do you remember the way life used to be?
Up all night and sleep all day.
poem by Sita Cabrera
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I Will Remember You
Chorus:
I will remember you
Will you remember me?
Don't let your life pass you by
Weep not for the memories.
I'm so tired
I can't sleep
Standing on the edge of something
Much to deep.
It's funny how we feel so much
And cannot say a word
We're screaming inside
But we can't be heard
Chorus:
I will remember you
Will you remember me?
Don't let your life pass you by
Weep not for the memories.
So afraid to love you
More afraid to loose
Clinging to past
That doesn't let me choose.
Well, once there was a darkness
A deep and endless night
You gave me everything
You gave me light.
Chorus:
I will remember you
Will you remember me?
Don't let your life pass you by
Weep not for the memories.
Remember all
The good times that we had
Let them slip away from us
And things got bad.
Clearly I first saw you
Smiling in the sun
I want to feel your warmth
I want to be the one.
Chorus:
I will remember you
Will you remember me?
Don't let your life pass you by
Weep not for the memories.
Chorus:
I will remember you
Will you remember me?
Don't let your life pass you by
Weep not for the memories.
Weep not for the memories.
The memories...
song performed by by Kenny Rogers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Slice Of Reality: What Is Poetry? Unedited
poetry is just a slice of reality
a tip of the iceberg
true
they are marks
points of origin
helipads of departure
boundaries
hmmmm
you felt something so strong
and then you mark it
so that you may remember it again
like some images
a subconscious talking too maybe
some monuments
you simply bury them there
even in water
yes i love the images
so that when you come back
you still remember
what was it
the simple stuffs
that u wont forget
remembering the details
so that when you are lost
yes
they must have something to say
to describe you
really?
such as
Alice had a mole on the right shoulder
she wore a red blouse
brown shoes
her hair had split ends
when we last saw her
who was this Alice?
could be you
hahaha
before you were drowned in the river
it is only when we are gone
i have a birthmark on my right arm
that they begin to ask
who was that?
what was she?
do you understand what i mean?
yes
all my poems are dog ears
i am reading my life
i know
things that i cannot forget
and i leave some words to guide me
what really happened
they always resurface
yes.
yes.
yes
yes, i know.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Death and Birth
Death leads to birth rather than birth, to death.
Birth is close to death and not vice versa.
Every birth is at the result of a death.
Death to birth, not birth to death, is the path.
The death of clay is the birth of a pot;
The death of the pot is the birth of clay.
Ice melts to water and water forms ice.
In each conversion, occur death and birth.
The death of a night is the birth of a day;
The death of a day is the birth of a night.
New Year means the death of the old year too.
In each transition, takes place death and birth.
The death of a seed is the birth of a plant;
The death of gametes is the birth of an embryo.
Salts die to form cells; cells die to form salts.
In each growth, form death and birth of matter.
The so called death and birth is nothing but
Deaths and births of forms made of matter.
The matter itself does not die to be born
But is converted to different forms.
Elements disappear to form plants.
Plants as food add to the animals’ flesh.
Plants and animals on death liberate
As elements, serving through worms and germs.
When a child is born, there’s no birth of life.
The embryo transforms into a child.
When a man dies, there is no death of life.
The body disintegrates to salts.
Matter, energy and life have no death
They have got one birth since when they’ve been.
They interact and come different stages
In which the pattern is death and birth.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Pictures Of Matchstick Men
Oh
Ah
Oh
Ah
When I look up to the sky
I see your eyes in a funny kind of yellow
I rush to bed I soak my head
I see your face underneath my pillow
I wake next morning tossed and yawning
I see your face come peeping through my window
Oh no
Oh
Ah
Oh
Ah
Pictures of matchstick men and you
Images of matchstick men and you
All I ever see is them and...you
Oh
Ah
Oh
Ah
Windows echo your reflection
When I look in their direction
Gone
Yeah they're gone
When will this haunting stop
Your face just won't leave me alone
Oh no
Pictures of matchstick men and you
Images of matchstick men and you
All I ever see is them and you
Oh you're in the sky
You're with this guy
You make men cry, you lie
Pictures of matchstick men (x6)
I can see those matchstick men (x6)
song performed by by Ozzy Osbourne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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