The Painter's Wheel
the painter's wheel turns,
its bearings rusted, groan.
all too oft mistaken for thunder.
the human heart has
hidden chambers, and
passageways not discovered...
the smell of hope? or
burning limbs... clearing
the way for autumn.
the heart is at autumn too;
one last flash of color,
and then a time of rest...
what we seek for
is never further than
the tip of trembling tongues,
and the button undone....
the cadence of earth evolving,
both within and without!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Smell Like!
you said:
old men smell like nuts,
and greying tree limbs...
wet ashes after the rain...
you smell like
the book on the shelf,
that goes unnoticed,
and needs to be read!
and we probably smell like
the broken glass, the limbs
on the car, the rain drenched seat...
and love stains aged
from under the wheel,
in the gravel drive
of an old abandoned house!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Painter Man
Went to college, studied arts
To be an artist make a start
Studied hard, gettin my degree
But no one seemed to notice me
Painter man, painter man
Who wanna be a painter man
Painter man, painter man
Who wanna be a painter man
Tried cartoons and comic books
Dirty postcards could have done
Here was where the money laid
Classic art has had its day
Painter man, painter man
Who wanna be a painter man
Painter man, painter man
Who wanna be a painter man
Did adverts for t.v.
Household shops and brands of tea
Labels all around the cans
Who wanna be a painter man
Painter man, painter man
Who wanna be a painter man
Painter man, painter man
Who wanna be a painter man
La...la...la...la...la...la...
La...la...la...la...la...la...la...
Painter man, painter man
Who wanna be a painter man
song performed by by Boney M.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It All Comes True
I stand here a black man I have no history
I was brought up in east chicago and I grew up on the streets
The chains around the playground were the chains around my heart
The brand upon my shoulder well it reminds you who you are
Chorus:
And it all comes true yes it all comes true
Like a wheel inside a wheel it turns on you
And you think, what have I done? what can I do?
What you believe about yourself
It all comes true
I was just a young girl my mother called me hon
My father was unhappy cause I should have been his son
They said, learn to be a waitress and learn to be a wife
And be thankful for a chance to live an ordinary life
Chorus:
And it all comes true yes it all comes true
Like a wheel inside a wheel it turns on you
And you think, what have I done? what can I do?
What you believe about yourself
It all comes true
My life is a contradiction of sorrow and desire
I drag my heart across the ash to throw it on the fire
Maybe theres a reason and could there be a plan
Or are we all just fools to think well understand
Chorus:
And it all comes true yes it all comes true
Like a wheel inside a wheel it turns on you
And you think, what have I done? what can I do?
What you believe about yourself
It all comes true
And it all comes true yes it all comes true
Like a wheel inside a wheel it turns on you
And you think, what have I done? what can I do?
What you believe about yourself
It all comes true
song performed by by John Mellencamp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Books Are Burning
Books are burning
In the main square, and I saw there
The first eating the text
Books are burning
In the still air
And you know where they burn books
People are next
I believe the printed word should be forgiven
Doesnt matter what it said
Wisdom hotline from the dead back to the living
Key to the larder for your heart and head
Books are burning
In our own town, watch us turn round
And cast our glances elsewhere
Books are burning
In the playground
Smell of burnt book is not unlike human hair
I believe the printed word is more than sacred
Beyond the gauge of good or bad
The human right to let your soul fly free and naked
Above the violence of the fearful and sad
The church of matches
Anoints in ignorance with gasoline
The church of matches
Grows fat by breathing in the smoke of dreams
Its quite obscene
Books are burning
More each day now, and I pray now
You boys will tire of these games
Books are burning
I hope somehow, this will allow
A phoenix up from the flames
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Burning
When I look at you
I melt like a candle
You light a fire in me
What am I to do
I just hope I can handle
The heat and the smoke blinding me
This feeling, this fire
This burning desire
Is raging its way through my soul
And if you feel the same
Help me fan the flames
til were burning out of control
Burning to know you
Burning to show you
And Ive felt this way from the start
Burning with passion
I do hope its lasting
And its burning a hole in my heart
You kindle in me
A warm glowing feeling
A spark and a flicker of hope
Its more than a game
And like moths to a flame
Were drawn to its warmth and its glow
These embers of love
Are fueled by the notion
This could be an eternal flame
Consumed by the blaze
I fear its too late
cause this torch that I hold bears your name
Oh, and Im burning to know you
Burning to hold you
Its grown to a flame from a spark
Burning with passion
I do hope its lasting
And its burning a hole in my heart
Oh, Im burning with passion
I do hope its lasting...
Ive had so many dreams fall apart...
And its burning a hole in my heart...
Im burning
Oh, Im burning
Mmmm, Im burning oh, I burning ooh
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hope & Pray
I see the headlights
Shining on the wall
It seems Ive got a visitor
Who is kind enough to call
And I hope and I pray, everyday
I hope and I pray its you.
I thought I heard some footsteps
On the floor
And tell me am I dreaming
Or is it someone at the door
cos I hope and I pray
Everyday
I hope and pray, its you
Autumn turns to winter
And winter turns to spring
I only know the passing of the days
And if you were to ask me
About the meaning of my life
It kind of lost its meaning
On the day you went away
You know that when it comes
To matters of the heart
I thought I had it covered
But its tearing me apart
And I hope and I pray
Everyday
I hope and I pray, its you.
Autumn turns to winter
And winter turns to spring
The summer sun still lingers
In my head
If it wasnt for the letters
That you wrote me from the heart
Id sometime wonder baby
If I dreamed it all instead
You see Ive got to feel your hand
Upon my face
I need to get the calling
To rejoin the human race
And I hope and I pray
Every day
I hope and I pray, its you.
song performed by by Moody Blues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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House On Fire
She strides down 7th street
Smokey night - summer heat
Commotion - concrete fires
Where neon souls are burning
His whole life - a hung jury
She was the crime - Wheel's gonna pay
She's got blue steel; cocked and locked
She is Justice - Justice is burning
She's turning the tables upside down
She's like a flame; she's burning higher
She's like a house on fire - House on fire
Wheel feels lucky - drinkin' blind
One track mind - sheer distraction
Steps on cracks, breakin' backs
Nothin's sacred on the other side
He turns left - she turns right
They both step through the veil of night
Cold blue steel reflection
And Wheel's got nowhere to hide
She's turning the tables upside down
She's like a flame; she's burning higher
She's like a house on fire - House on fire
Players of passion playing with fire
Streetlights are flashing but who are they for
Fisted love fueling fantasy
Is love worth the fire he's asking for
song performed by by Kansas
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Black Hooves, White Snow
black hooves, white snow
candlewax dripping,
water from a rusted spicket.
brass doorknobs,
forbidden rooms,
where spider webs cover
forgotten books.
and the chant of the ancients
rolls like thunder!
strike the bell, mountains quiver!
somewhere the gods of old
walk deserted streets,
while the shepherd kings
raise their flutes and play.
and the old mad monk
walks into the hills,
never to be seen,
or heard again.
black hooves, white snow
the taste of blood,
the smell of need.
bows drawn tight,
the archers wait
for the sun to rise
in a blackened sky.
the wheel turns
in the desert sand
(nothing ever stays the same)
water wears down stone
until it finds it's way.
while trees fall in
a desolate forest,
and the hawk flies alone
down through the gorge.
black hooves, white snow
till we find our way!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Delusions!
I saw a dream within my dream,
I found Ravidas loudly scream.
'O Lord, I am caught up in illusions,
The world as I see is full of delusions.' 1.
He saw an emperor napping on throne,
With begging bowl he found him groan.
In dream lamented parting of empire,
So are we now, in begger’s attire.2.
As mistaken identity of rope for snake,
Lord revealed him the mystery of world fake.
Mistaken identity of bracelets and gold,
Now, not at all he could behold.3.
Now, in all places the Lord conforms,
He enjoys Himself in diverse forms.
Ravidas says, He is as close as limbs,
The world simply exists as He whims.4
*Inspired by Bani Guru Ravidas
poem by C.P. Sharma
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Sonnet 24: “Mine eye hath played the painter and hath stelled…”
Mine eye hath played the painter and hath stelled,
Thy beauty's form in table of my heart,
My body is the frame wherein 'tis held,
And perspective it is best painter's art.
For through the painter must you see his skill,
To find where your true image pictured lies,
Which in my bosom's shop is hanging still,
That hath his windows glazed with thine eyes:
Now see what good turns eyes for eyes have done,
Mine eyes have drawn thy shape, and thine for me
Are windows to my breast, where-through the sun
Delights to peep, to gaze therein on thee;
Yet eyes this cunning want to grace their art,
They draw but what they see, know not the heart.
poem by William Shakespeare
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Sonnet 24: Mine eye hath played the painter and hath stelled
Mine eye hath played the painter and hath stelled
Thy beauty's form in table of my heart;
My body is the frame wherein 'tis held,
And perspective it is best painter's art.
For through the painter must you see his skill
To find where your true image pictured lies,
Which in my bosom's shop is hanging still,
That hath his windows glazèd with thine eyes.
Now see what good turns eyes for eyes have done:
Mine eyes have drawn thy shape, and thine for me
Are windows to my breast, where-through the sun
Delights to peep, to gaze therein on thee.
Yet eyes this cunning want to grace their art:
They draw but what they see, know not the heart.
poem by William Shakespeare
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Sonnet: The Wheel of Life
The Wheel of Life has Time placed in its hub,
Rotating from joyful state to sorrow;
Learns man to live with hope for the morrow,
Happy today that he can get his grub.
The Wheel of Fate turns at its own queer speed,
Yet, man can alter it using his skill;
Joys and sorrows sequentially fill;
Life on earth seems worthless to some indeed.
But any wheel will turn again, again;
And every state of life will have its end;
This life on earth can be a boon or bane,
Which on the person only will depend.
You turn the Wheel of Life at your own Will,
And much better with Almighty’s help, still.
poem by John Celes
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Hope And Pray
(Justin Hayward)
I see the headlights
Shining on the wall
It seems I've got a visitor
who is kind enough to call
CHORUS
And I hope and pray, everyday
I hope and pray it's you
I thought I heard some footsteps
On the floor
And tell me am I dreaming
Or is someone at the door
CHORUS
Autumn turns to winter
And winter turns to spring
I only know the passing of the days
And if you were to ask me
About the meaning of my life
It kind of lost its meaning
On the day you went away
You know that when it comes
To matters of the heart
I thought I had it covered
But it's tearing me apart
CHORUS
Autumn turns to winter
And winter turns to spring
The summer sun still lingers
In my head
If it wasn't for the letters
That you wrote me from the heart
I'd sometimes wonder baby
If I dreamed it all instead
You see I've got to feel your hand
Upon my face
I need to get the calling
To rejoin the human race
CHORUS
-------------------------------------------
song performed by by Moody Blues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I bet what happened was, they discovered fire and invented the wheel on the same day. Then, that night, they burned the wheel.
Jack Handey in Deep Thoughts
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cute Poem
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Music is beautiful
And so are you
You smell so good
You smell so sweet
You smell good enough to eat
My love is for you
For you are in my heart
My love is for you
My beautiful sweetheart
So I hope
You take this poem to heart
Because I hope
That we shall never part
poem by Jordan Moore
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A March Day in London
The east wind blows in the street to-day;
The sky is blue, yet the town looks grey.
'Tis the wind of ice, the wind of fire,
Of cold despair and of hot desire,
Which chills the flesh to aches and pains,
And sends a fever through all the veins.
From end to end, with aimless feet,
All day long have I paced the street.
My limbs are weary, but in my breast
Stirs the goad of a mad unrest.
I would give anything to stay
The little wheel that turns in my brain;
The little wheel that turns all day,
That turns all night with might and main.
What is the thing I fear, and why?
Nay, but the world is all awry--
The wind's in the east, the sun's in the sky.
The gas-lamps gleam in a golden line;
The ruby lights of the hansoms shine,
Glance, and flicker like fire-flies bright;
The wind has fallen with the night,
And once again the town seems fair
Thwart the mist that hangs i' the air.
And o'er, at last, my spirit steals
A weary peace ; peace that conceals
Within its inner depths the grain
Of hopes that yet shall flower again.
Shema
The hidden sound, the spell under the tongue,
Hints of our truth revealed. Behold, Shema:
A doorway opens from a dwelling of despair
To speed the fate of birth and teach
To wear death’s sudden mask.
The bodies of our ancestors, eroded by disease
Unnamed and unconfined. Vital organs inflamed
By domestic plague, blamed on foreign clime.
Limbs torn by canon, severed by sword,
Lives cascaded into waters, in armour drowned.
They carried in their recessed minds
A fragment of the sound, beyond the language of their time.
The colleges, hunched passageways of stone,
The worn and lettered tombs by which the students pass
Libraries rebuilt on wooden beams
In the sunlight of stained glass.
Illuminated minds renew
The stunted frames of ancient words:
Their syllables extend
Towards the hidden sound.
poem by Frank Bana
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Lament
Where are those dazzling hills touched by the sun,
Those crags in childhood that I used to climb?
Hidden, hidden under mist is yonder mountain,
Hidden is the heart.
A day of cloud, a lifetime falls between,
Gone are the heather moors and the pure stream,
Gone are the rocky places and the green,
Hidden, hidden under sorrow is yonder mountain,
Hidden, hidden.
O storm and gale of tears, whose blinding screen
Makes weather of grief, snow's drifting curtain
Palls th'immortal heights once seen.
Hidden, hidden is the heart,
Hidden, hidden is the heart.
poem by Kathleen Jessie Raine
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Myself
if you think that i am having long hours
because of poetry
you are not completely correct
part of me is also darkness
the rest is light
there is this part of me that tells
you half of humanity
the rest is what i do not wish to talk about.
if you think that what i have in mind is pure poetry
you are mistaken.
i am waiting for something not poetic
it is on the process of an upload and since i am a free user
it will take a long time.
a very long time, and i in my poverty of spirit
assumes the courage of having to wait
for a long time
for a very long long time
and then when the upload is complete
i click it to play
and then i watch the show
its characters talk about part of myself
my secret dreams my hidden wishes
there is mixture of a drink
of illusion and reality
of fantasy and fact
but if you think, having discovered this secret
that i am all that
you are also mistaken
for part of me is also the sunrise between two breasts of the hills
the rainbow that extends between the thighs of two rivers
and the the white dove of the Ark
that brings the message of an incoming peace.
if you think however that i am harmony
there you are again
you are mistaken.
shall i repeat my old lines for you again?
now you have it, you are right, in this aspect
for i am this and i am that
i am never complete and i am also never empty.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Inward Burning Fire
It's a dark path now - I don't know where it leads.
I only know you're not on it.
Insufficient light comes from the flame in my heart.
The fire you started.
This flame rages seeking fuel to burn and survive.
Give me some coal dust from your hair.
Just some green driftwood shavings from your eyes.
Your oaken wood hands warming mine - they're so cold now.
Better yet, an answering warmth
from the fire burning in your heart for mine.
Nothing serves to heal a dying flame as that meeting would.
But that's my fire seeking what will not be found on this path.
So, the flame turns inward to die out.
I hide the smoke.
It was always enough for you alone to know of this kindling within.
In the flame's death it must be secret still.
The fire consumes internally,
seeking out each memory hidden away.
Consuming every thought I ever had of you.
No one knows the fire's rage
until it turns to them and touches.
It will burn on inward
until it has devoured every memory, every feeling
with sustenance left in it.
It's a painful death,
but once the fire exists
it can only consume until it dies.
I know this science. I accept.
I accepted long ago.
The fire is so warm when first kindled.
Soon, I hope and fear,
only ash will be left.
The pain will be over.
I know I'll be cold but I'll rest.
As for now, while it's still burning,
I will make one vow.
I will save one tiny ember.
I will try to keep it warm and safe.
Just in case the path turns - and there you are.
And if a spark still remains within you too
this dear and dreaded fire can rise again.
Though more likely I know -
my little ember will serve only to remind me what warmth was
and burn my fingers.
poem by Meli Secret
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