Death
the shadow lurking
just outside my window;
faintly smelling like spring rain
remembered in the fall.
the first lips you kissed,
the first time you tasted
your own blood.
a good cigar, and
a shot of french brandy.
the film of time
covering the eyes.
taking away sharpness,
finding form in the vague
and near forgotten!
a Bible that smells
like damp newspapers;
shovelfuls of earth,
and an old Irish hymn.
and the weight of the undone
swings like a pendulum;
words never spoken,
almost touches, almost tears,
chances almost taken
and the fork in the road
i never took
the hoot of an owl.
water running over rocks.
pine needles carpet the ground
never walked on.
a shadow lurking
that knows my name!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Time's Ticking Away
The pendulum swings,
In such a perpetual way,
It keeps on moving,
In a continuous sway.
The momentum decides,
Time's passing on,
A tick on the clock,
And the moment is gone.
The pendulum swings,
To left and to right,
Time's ticking along,
In mad rhythmic flight.
And as it moves onwards,
Time's ticking away,
There's no way of stopping,
The road to decay.
The pendulum swings,
Another second goes by,
The clock's keeping time,
But time wants to fly.
By night and by day,
Time never stands still,
The pendulum swings,
At 'Time's' endless will.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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Deadman Walking
The enemy is at the door
The enemy within.
Dressed up in the strangest clothes,
Smells of drinking Bombay gin.
There's a deadman walking
And his shadow's growing long.
There's a deadman walking
Taking it in
before his time is gone.
My father was a Russian Jew
My Irish mother crazy.
I see summer, winter, fall.
When grown men
cry like babies.
There's a deadman walking
And his shadow's growing long.
There's a deadman walking
Taking it in
before his time is gone.
Solo
Wish I never had to leave.
Wish I'd never known.
Wish I could stay here forever.
Watch my garden grow.
There's a deadman walking
And his shadow's growing long.
There's a deadman walking
Taking it in
before his time is gone.
There's a deadman talking
And his shadow's growing long.
There's a deadman talking
Taking it in
before his time is gone.
There's a deadman walking
deadman walking
deadman talking
song performed by by Ufo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Last Time I Saw Her
The last time I saw her face, her eyes were bathed in starlight and her hair hung long
The last time she spoke to me, her lips were like the scented flowers inside a rain-drenched forest
But that was so long ago that I can scarcely feel the way I felt before
And if time could heal the wounds, I would tear the threads away that I might bleed some more
The last time I walked with her
Her laughter was the steeple bells
That ring to greet the morning sun
A voice that called to everyone
To love the ground she walked upon
Those were good day
The last time I held her hand, her touch was autumn, spring and summer, and winter too
The last time I let go of her, she walked a way into the night
I lost her in the misty streets, a thousand months, a thousand miles
When other lips will kiss her eyes
A million miles beyond the moon, thats where she is
But that was so long ago that I can scarcely feel the way I felt before
And if time could heal the wounds, I would tear the threads away that I might bleed some more
The last time I saw her face, her eyes were bathed in starlight and she walked alone
The last time she kissed my cheek
Her lips were like the wilted leaves
Upon the autumn covered hills
Resting on the frozen ground
The seeds of love lie cold and still
Beneath a battered marking stone
It lies forgotten
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Last Time I Saw Her
The last time I saw her face, her eyes were bathed in starlight and her
hair hung long
The last time she spoke to me, her lips were like the scented flowers
inside a rain-drenched forest
But that was so long ago that I can scarcely feel the way I felt before
And if time could heal the wounds, I would tear the threads away that I
might bleed some more
The last time I walked with her
Her laughter was the steeple bells
That ring to greet the morning sun
A voice that called to everyone
To love the ground she walked upon
Those were good day
The last time I held her hand, her touch was autumn, spring and summer,
and winter too
The last time I let go of her, she walked a way into the night
I lost her in the misty streets, a thousand months, a thousand miles
When other lips will kiss her eyes
A million miles beyond the moon, that's where she is
But that was so long ago that I can scarcely feel the way I felt before
And if time could heal the wounds, I would tear the threads away that I
might bleed some more
The last time I saw her face, her eyes were bathed in starlight and she
walked alone
The last time she kissed my cheek
Her lips were like the wilted leaves
Upon the autumn covered hills
Resting on the frozen ground
The seeds of love lie cold and still
Beneath a battered marking stone
It lies forgotten
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The dark beauty
The dark love,
Grieving my darkness,
The red meat
And the blood of my sadness,
Carving in the sand
Its shadow,
The scissor,
Lurking in grass
Its soft violence
For the kinetic buds
And the returning sap through the
Needles eyes
Of the tree,
The wayward yearning
To share the string waves
Of starting, stopping
And restarting,
Forever kinetic,
Two feelings meeting
For becoming then one,
Like words entwining
To give life unto that is itself.
Dark clouds flushing the wound.
poem by Marieta Maglas
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Lingering Tastes
He tasted the wine that was on her lips
when they last had kissed.
It was sweeter than if he drunk of it himself,
a taste he could not resist.
He remembered the taste and never could find
anything better than this.
Was it the wine he couldn't forget
or was it just the kiss?
He tasted the bitterness on her lips
when they last had fought.
It was sharper than the words she said to him,
words that did persist
in finding a way to keep him cold,
nothing worse than this.
Was it the words he would never forget
or was it just the kiss?
The wine, the words and even the kiss
became a source of pain.
He prayed that he'd remember her lips of wine
and that the bitterness would not remain.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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The Mountain Cemetery
With their harsh leaves old rhododendrons fill
The crevices in grave plots' broken stones.
The bees renew the blossoms they destroy,
While in the burning air the pines rise still,
Commemorating long forgotten biers.
Their roots replace the semblance of these bones.
The weight of cool, of imperceptible dust
That came from nothing and to nothing came
Is light within the earth and on the air.
The change that so renews itself is just.
The enormous, sundry platitude of death
Is for these bones, bees, trees, and leaves the same.
And splayed upon the ground and through the trees
The mountains' shadow fills and cools the air,
Smoothing the shape of headstones to the earth.
The rhododendrons suffer with the bees
Whose struggles loose ripe petals to the earth,
The heaviest burden it shall ever bear.
Our hard earned knowledge fits us for such sleep.
Although the spring must come, it passes too
To form the burden suffered for what comes.
Whatever we would give our souls to keep
Is merely part of what we call the soul;
What we of time would threaten to undo
All time in its slow scrutiny has done.
For on the grass that starts about the feet
The body's shadow turns, to shape in time,
Soon grown preponderant with creeping shade,
The final shadow that is turn of earth;
And what seems won paid for as in defeat.
poem by Edgar Bowers
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Gasping For Light
1
i built a fire in the yard.
slowly walked back into the house.
gathering everything of value.
my books, my clothes, my boots,
old photographs, letters, pictures,
everything i've ever written.
every memory.
took them outside,
and fed them to the fire!
and walked off barefoot
into the night.
2
lover, dance with me!
we call unto each other
from distances, through barriers,
breaking down walls of seperation;
through tears and angry silence,
echoing through the night.
i kiss your eyes, your lips,
the arch of your neck.
your fingertips, your feet,
the inside of your thighs.
your wetness.
you open your eyes,
and the shadow disappears!
3
spirits dance in the moonlight!
a soft wind rustles
through the trees.
the howl of a dog,
car lights on a forgotten road;
a screen door closes softly.
old house wrapped in stillness.
only a faint sound.
the footsteps of God
walking in your heart!
4
i can smell your perfume,
or maybe the scent of rain coming.
i can taste you in the
cool damp earth,
in the blood of a small animal
killed by a passing car,
in the cry of the baby
waking up hungry,
in the web of the spider.
in the hollow of my soul.
5
two moths lost in the darkness,
gasping for light.
poem by Eric Cockrell
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I Remembered The Rain
I remembered the rain...
the day we sat together
watching the rain drops dancing before us
on the window before our eyes
I remembered your face...
the expression in your eyes
the frown on your brow
looking at the rain dancing before your eyes
I remembered you...
looking at me
with that soft, pained, wistful look in your eyes
knowing in the midst of the rain, around us
that you were trying to remember me
so that you would not forget my face
on the day we were finally apart
All that we ever had was the rain...
that day
And what we remembered
of each other's face in the shadow of the rain that day...
Now, without you...
I hear the rain...
only the rain, and remembering your eyes
that soft, pained, wistful look in your eyes
tearing me apart, crushing my heart
As I remember you...
As One Listens To The Rain
Listen to me as one listens to the rain,
not attentive, not distracted,
light footsteps, thin drizzle,
water that is air, air that is time,
the day is still leaving,
the night has yet to arrive,
figurations of mist
at the turn of the corner,
figurations of time
at the bend in this pause,
listen to me as one listens to the rain,
without listening, hear what I say
with eyes open inward, asleep
with all five senses awake,
it's raining, light footsteps, a murmur of syllables,
air and water, words with no weight:
what we are and are,
the days and years, this moment,
weightless time and heavy sorrow,
listen to me as one listens to the rain,
wet asphalt is shining,
steam rises and walks away,
night unfolds and looks at me,
you are you and your body of steam,
you and your face of night,
you and your hair, unhurried lightning,
you cross the street and enter my forehead,
footsteps of water across my eyes,
listen to me as one listens to the rain,
the asphalt's shining, you cross the street,
it is the mist, wandering in the night,
it is the night, asleep in your bed,
it is the surge of waves in your breath,
your fingers of water dampen my forehead,
your fingers of flame burn my eyes,
your fingers of air open eyelids of time,
a spring of visions and resurrections,
listen to me as one listens to the rain,
the years go by, the moments return,
do you hear the footsteps in the next room?
not here, not there: you hear them
in another time that is now,
listen to the footsteps of time,
inventor of places with no weight, nowhere,
listen to the rain running over the terrace,
the night is now more night in the grove,
lightning has nestled among the leaves,
a restless garden adrift-go in,
your shadow covers this page.
poem by Octavio Paz
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A Shadow
you are not alone
for i am a shadow and i always follow you
wherever you may go,
you shake me off?
no you can't. I am your shadow.
you want to be left alone?
you shove me away, no you can't.
i am a part of you. i reflect you. I am your shadow.
you feel forsaken?
you dislike me? You plan your escape.
You stand at noontime. No you can't take me away.
I am diminished. When the sun comes as your ally,
I am equal to you, under you and still a part of you.
You cannot take me away. I am your shadow.
You shed tears. I have the shadow of tears.
You bleed blood. I have the shadow of blood bleeding.
You cannot take me away from you. I am a part of you. I am your shadow.
You regret life? You want to end all these? You hate me?
Plan your next step. Vanish me. Kill me.
Use your black magic. Take me away from you. No you can't.
I am always a part of you. I am your shadow.
I ask you to ask me if i like this way with us together.
I tell you. I want to shake you off from me. I am your shadow.
And i detest you. My body.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Pendulum
The pendulum swings to both extremes;
Each side is unreal or so it seems.
Good times are too good and bad times too bad.
So both sides replace the spaces they had.
All that is sure is that change will occur.
Those who embrace it will no doubt endure.
Those fighting the pendulum and its change
Will flounder and falter in a life they estrange.
Opportunities abound as the pendulum swings.
For the advantageous there’s a plethora of things.
But the negative attitude will suffer a fall
When struck severely by the pendulum’s ball.
As stark as today’s events appear to be,
The pendulum’s equilibrium will set them free.
Look to the long term with unfailing hope.
Take advantage of the pendulum no matter its slope.
poem by Gregory Huyette
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Falling Out
Im falling out of grace with the world
They say Ive lost my midas touch what turned to gold now turns to rust
Im falling out of line with all the stars
That flood my dreams with their guitars and magazines
Face down this carpet tastes like coffee grounds ground into my face now
And every angles covered with just another
Im falling out of style with the current way things are
The things that make conforming hard
Im falling out of control and you just cant stop me now
Ill fight as long as time allows
Face down this carpet tastes like coffee grounds ground into my face now
And every angles covered with just another band-aid
Im out here way beyond
A shadow of a doubt
And I know Im never falling out
Of favor with you
Im out here way beyond
A shadow of a doubt
And I know Im never falling out
Of favor with you
I wont think twice or even three times
About taking a gamble with you
Cause with my life you have been so kind
I take all my comfort from you
Face down this carpet tastes like coffee grounds ground into my face now
And every angles covered with just another band-aid
Im out here way beyond
A shadow of a doubt
And I know Im never falling out
Of favor with you
Im out here way beyond
A shadow of a doubt
And I know Im never falling out
Of favor with you
song performed by by Relient K
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Regeneration
The pine needles covered the ground like a carpet
and their fragrance was all around.
The pinecones scattered here and there
punctuated the ground.
The firs were thick, stately and tall
and had grown for many a year.
They grew with the company of each other
and it did appear
that all of the forest creatures
whether large or small
were content to see the pine needles
continuously fall.
All seemed peaceful and quiet
on the forest floor,
until the animals sensed a danger.
Then there came a roar.
Most feared by all the fir trees
a spark had created a flame
and as the animals ran for their life,
nothing was the same.
The fire spread and one by one
the firs were engulfed by smoke.
Unable to breathe, they stood their ground
and silently did choke.
Consumed by a blazing fire
they quietly went to sleep.
The sweet pine aroma was absent
and into the air did creep
a sorrow for all of the trees that died
that once had stood so high.
The rain that came to cleanse the ground
was a gift to them from the sky.
For they would begin to grow again
from the rain and sun that shone.
The firs would grow and regenerate
and then would come the cone.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Dark writing....
Dark shadows sneak under the door
As I keep writing these dark lyrics more
Of a nature that's not evil or unkind
Rather of disturbing thoughts in my mind.
They say for everything bad it's found
Something good it has to come around
The weather wouldn't be pleasant if wasn't for the rain
These feelings wouldn't exist if it wasn't for the pain.
I'm doing a storm in a cup of water to prepare
Meanwhile around people don't even care
I pray for my life to not end before these stanzas
But mindlessly I write and write looking for the answers.
My cold dark poems are everywhere
Floating around in the midnight air
Listen, closely you have no choice
These dark words, my deep voice.
Where the world is falling apart,
There lies a dark poem of the heart
Dark poems tell the darkest lines
They make you hear their shrieking cries.
Hold dearly onto your ravaged soul;
Don't find you've let life take its toll
Youll find my dark poems are everywhere
Read them, like them, if you dare….
I am the shadow hiding in the dark
The evil sounds that wake you in the night
I'm a shadow lurking in the dark
Because still it always feels so right
So I write my shadowy poems line by line
But I'm constantly over looked
My brain is fried down to the spine
And my broken heart is cooked
I'm left only with part of a heart
That will never again beat
I'm the one person
No one has to meet
I am a shadow lurking in the dark
Writing my poems so deep
Whispering my words so stark
Pray your soul to keep…
poem by Deep Dark Soul Poet
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Shadow Man
Theres a man back a-ways
Who believes at where he is
And theres a girl
Up ahead who says she knows
And the street overflows
With the folk who understand
But for the guy who cant be seen
Hes the shadow man
And the shadow man is close at hand
Take a turn and see his smile
Made of nothing but loneliness
Just take a walk and be a friend
To the shadow man
You can call him joe, you can call him sam
You should call and see who answers
For he promises to come running, guided by the truth
But the shadow man is really you
Look in his eyes and see your reflection
Look to the stars and see his eyes
Hell show you tomorrow, hell show you the sorrows
Of what you did today
You can call him foe, you can call him friend
You should call and see who answers
For he knows your eyes are drawn to the road ahead
And the shadow man is waiting round the bend
Oh, the shadow man
Ohooooo oooo
Shadow man, shadow man
Its really you, its really you, its really you
Hes the shadow man
Oh yeah
Shadow man
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Water Carrier
Crystal fountain springing from the hill.
It irrigates your soul. you may drink your fill.
Water of life, carried high.
One hand upon the gallon jar. feel her fix my eye.
Every good travellers for the taking.
All good money for the making.
Sellers market: wet appeal.
Water carrier------lets make the deal.
Covered face and black pool eyes.
Between us, no words spoken: no words to the wise.
Heres to another time and a drink somewhere.
Plush on a nain carpet; on a caf chair.
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sketchy
the shadow is cast
on the wall
such a tall shadow
without feet
against the wall it edges
itself like a huge
wormy creature
not slimy though but snail paced
is the loneliness
of this kind of betrayed
existence
a few drops of rain
actually tears fall from the sky of
her cheeks from the veins
of her heart
from a memory of a madness
that she keeps to herself
with the city on her heels
at the command of the fingertips
of the darker master
death unmasking the color of blue neon lights
light like pins and needles
of pine and silver
very much unlike the hands
of the past lover long gone
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Shadow of Christmas
Christmas is now gone
With all the usual fun
I see only its shadow
Yes! That’s how the story goes
A few more days, then New Year
Visit the church and confess
Then bring out your fancy dress
Its time to make a mess
For some, its time for new resolutions
For others, its time for new beginnings
Or perhaps nothing changes
Even in the face of new challenges
Now Christmas has come and gone
Yet right there in the corner
I see the shadow of Christmas
Lurking in the darkness
Yes! That’s how the story goes
Copyright 2005 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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Under Cover of Night
To slip into your shadow under cover of night.
To follow your footsteps, your shadow at the window.
That shadow at the window is you and no one else;
it's you.
Do not open that window behind whose curtains you're moving.
Shut your eyes.
I'd like to shut them with my lips.
But the window opens and the breeze, the breeze
which strangely balances flame and flag surrounds my escape
with its cloak.
The window opens: it's not you.
I knew it all along.
poem by Robert Desnos
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