She sat upon the floor...
She sat upon the floor
Looking through a pile of letters,
She took them up and tossed them
Like so many cold ashes.
She took the familiar pages
And gazed at them strangely,
The way souls look from above
At their discarded bodies . . .
O, how much life was in them,
Life irrevocably lived!
O, how many bitter moments,
How much love and joy now dead! . . .
I stood silently aside
Ready to fall on my knees,
And I grew terribly sad,
As if in the presence of a dear ghost.
poem by Fyodor Ivanovich Tyutchev
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All Souls Day: The Faithful Departed
Today, we think of all souls dead, some dear;
Some were so near, now gone afar, we fear;
Some were our friends, both good and bad, we knew;
But they all vanished like the morning dew!
Some were our neighbours, righteous or quite bad;
Nevertheless, they’re dead, which seems so sad;
Some were just strangers whom we met sometime;
They are no more with us in life and time.
Many we heard of, now no longer live;
Some men violent to violent ends did give;
Many unknown are gone forever too;
We pray, the love of God must all souls woo.
Some bodies lie in earthy dampness cold;
Some met a watery grave or in urns hold;
Some killed by beasts or men-demonic, died;
Many were holy, in God did abide!
Some were burnt, their ashes scattered by wind;
Some as mummies in pyramids, we find;
The end of many, we can’t imagine;
For myriads dead and worm-eaten, we pine!
The world of dead exceeds the living one;
Who thinks of orphans and who lived alone?
Kings, queens, lords, ladies, paupers too are gone;
Let living pray for God’s mercy and moan!
‘May the souls dead all, rest in peace;
May God forgive sinners with ease! ’
Copyright by Dr John Celes 02-11-11
poem by John Celes
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Scarlet Letter
Light skin, soft pages
That turns when your body clenches
Soft moments, tender memories
Of your bodies sensations
Take a look at the clock
Tic tock my time is up
When; again to memories this,
Pages that fall into dark places
Feather falling softy,
Ink running swiftly,
Print messy writing.
Write black letters of my sympathy…..to you
poem by Heriberto GarciaIII
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Gas Panic!
What tongueless ghost of sin crept through my curtains?
Sailing on a sea of sweat on a stormy night
I think he don't got a name but I can't be certain
And in me he starts to confide
That my family don't seem so familiar
And my enemies all know my name
And if you hear me tap on your window
Yer better get on yer knees and pray panic is on the way
My pulse pumps out a beat to the ghost dancer
My eyes are dead and my throat's like a black hole
And if there's a god would he give another chancer
An hour to sing for his soul
Cos my family don't seem so familiar
And my enemies all know my name
And when you hear me tap on yer window
Yer better get on yer knees and pray panic is on the way
Cos my family don't seem so familiar
And my enemies all know my name
And when you hear me tap on yer window
Then you get on your knees and you better pray
Cos my family don't seem so familiar
And my enemies all know my name
And when you hear me tap on your window
Yer better get on yer knees and pray panic is on the way
Panic is on the way
Panic is on the way
Panic is on the way
song performed by by Oasis from Standing On The Shoulder Of Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Wish Wed All Been Ready
Life was filled with guns and war
And everyone got trampled on the floor
I wish wed all been ready
Children died the day grew cold
A piece of bread could buy a bag of gold
I wish wed all been ready
Theres no time to change your mind
The son has come and youve been left behind
A man and wife sleep in bed she hears a noise
And turns her head hes gone
I wish wed all been ready
Two men walking up a hill one disappears and
Ones left standing still
I wish wed all been ready
Theres no time to change your mind
The son has come and youve been left behind
Life was filled with guns and war
And everyone got trampled on the floor
I wish wed all been ready
Children died the days grew cold
A piece of bread could buy a bag of gold
I wish wed all been ready
Theres no time to change your mind
How could you have been so blind
The father spoke the demons dined
The son has come and youve been left behind.
song performed by by Cliff Richard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Ashes Of The Dead
The ashes of the dead
the memories of the souls
are ready to rise again
They will come forth
to claim what is
rightfully theirs
They are coming
for their bodies and minds
don't close your eyes
poem by Dave Alan Walker
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Flawless Belief
As ashes slowly fall I turn to heed my inner call
To feel the gap within my soul
I must find the one inside the whole
Flawless belief, is what my eyes see
A shining figure here before me
A divine idol we all plead to
I'm down on my knees I worship you with owe
I'm down on my knees my belief forever strong
And I call out to you my lord of light
Watch my faith how it glows
God await that I know
My praise for him I shall bestow...
And sing it, praise you lord, he is the lord
In all pas centuries I've lived
False believers lived in eternal lie
We live our life - amen
Giving love to the end
Shadows rise and fall
At God's divine call
The answer to my pleas
Let all madness cease
This will be done
song performed by by Orphaned Land
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In a Poet's Eye
is the reflection
the image of a ghost
haunted by life
love-lorn romantic
the heart cut open
exposed
the flesh peeled away
in layers
words fall
drifting silently
the sad and bitter tears
of a lost embrace…
(Previously published in Bardo Burner, Jan 2000, no.12)
poem by Laurence Overmire
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Blood Hate Reaps Damnation Souls
thermal imaging night vision fog soups
violently blinking are blind ghost eyes
lost human souls drift isolation herds
who hate dark flayed carcass flesh?
who whipped crushed love emotions?
who thorn wove their bitter crowns?
who pinned hopes pierced hearts?
who mad shredded empathy compassions?
who torn sacred symmetry spun souls?
pitch black dark weep landscapes
stand blind herd ghost lost souls
none can see into another's eyes
blood rain drips from bitter hands
hate crimes were life bitter deeds
blood hate reaps damnation crop souls
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Robin Kuan: Was It Love that Grew You Rose?
Was it love that grew you, Rose?
Not harboured on the Cliffside by the sea
Red petals beaten by the salt and wind
And litter tossed beneath you carelessly
How delicate the fragrance of your flowers
So ravaged near the careless salty tide
No love has made you, Rose
And Yet your presence whispers, I abide
Was it hope that grew you, Rose?
Did a gardener come and visit you each day?
Was it one or five or three leaves ‘neath the bloom?
To make such flowers to take my breath away
No care has come to you by any hand
I see no shears or powders by your side
No hope has made you, Rose
And yet your presence whispers, I abide
Was it faith that grew you Rose
As winter burned your leaves to memory
And left your little branches cold and bare
Sweet flower on the Cliffside by the sea
How barren are your branches in the snow
Your vibrant flowers are frosted and denied
No faith has made you Rose
And Yet your presence whispers, I abide
Was it peace that grew you Rose
You heard “he loves me not, In singsong way”
Your petals scattered on the ground below
Confetti on the earth for children’s play
Your blooms will never be a bouquet held
For hybrid roses please the city bride
No peace has grown you Rose
And yet, your presence whispers, I abide
ii The epiphany
It was life that grew you Rose
Not faith or hope or love or peace, it’s true
As you braved the barren snows
It was life, that nestled deep inside of you
A force defying logics of the mind
More passion than all human love confides
It was life that made you Rose
I hear your presence whisper, I abide
In the place beyond us all
I visited with you by the morphic sea
You survived the winter snows
As sweet roses past revived your memory
And in simple heart I know
As I memorize these lines before repose
No wise man can realize
How profound you are my precious cliffside rose
(By My Dear Robin Kuan who is my friend)
poem by Laijon Liu
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Someone To Love
I was cold and wet
Like no-one else
It came in now, a professional
Oh, its over
Oh, its over
Oh, its over now
Well i, fall in a sleep and I let go
Make me a being without a soul
Somebody live my life Ive got to know what dead men know
Someone to love
Someone to love
Someone to love
Someone to love
I was on my knees
In front of her
When I feel like going down I know its everywhere
Oh, its over
Oh, its over
Oh, its over now
You make me another hell
I cant live but Im no-one else
Somebody live my life Ive got to know what dead men know
Someone to love
Someone to love
Someone to love
Someone to love
Like I said before
Its over again
And no-one left but me and
And no-one lifted me no
Someone to love
Someone to love
Someone to love
Someone to love
Someone to love
Someone to love
Someone to love
Someone to love
song performed by by Moby
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Never Fall in Love
I believe in love
but never fall in love
true love or lust love
I want love
but never fall in love
am I so cold
and don't have a heart
or so stubborn
and raise wall stone
I search love
but never fall in love
platonic love or passionate love
I'm loved
but never fall in love
am I afraid
to be hurt by the one
or kill it silently
before I find it's gone
I get everything
but never fall in love
I want to love
and wait all my life
should I pick one flower
and pretend it's love
pseudo love, unrequited love or mutual love
so desperate to feel
but never fall in love
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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The Moments of My Life
My life,
I now feel,
is fully covered
by white fog,
the dark white fog
of the sad moments
I faced in my life;
the moments
We spent together.
Now I feel
all pages of
my life
have become white
and the
ink used by The Writer
of my life
also became white.
I think,
here after,
no one
can read
the The Moments of My Life.
Written by Him with white ink
on the white pages.
poem by Ravindra Koshti
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Among The Ashes
In among the ashes
of your old love letters
the fragments of your
contemptuous love lay.
The hopes that were dashed
when the chips were down.
The dreams that you abandoned
in the games you played.
In among the ashes
of your old love letters
the fragments of your
flirtatious heart lay.
The constant cheating
that brought our stronghold down.
The flames now licking wounds
of your constant forays.
In among the ashes
of your old love letters
the fragments of what
could have been lay.
Instead, I’m burning bridges
putting the past and you behind.
Burning your old love letters
that you left behind
to taunt and remind me
of the love I thought was mine.
Now the ashes I scatter to the four winds
and the place to where you might have gone
abandoning home and family
for just another fling.
26 August 2009
poem by David Harris
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The Father
The evening found us whom the day had fled,
Once more in bitter anger, you and I,
Over some small, some foolish, trivial thing
Our anger would not decently let die,
But dragged between us, shamed and shivering
Until each other's taunts we scarcely heard,
Until we lost the sense of all we said,
And knew not who first spoke the fatal word.
It seemed that even every kiss we wrung
We killed at birth with shuddering and hate,
As if we feared a thing too passionate.
However close we clung
One hour the next hour found us separate,
Estranged, and Love most bitter on our tongue.
To-night we quarrelled over one small head,
Our fruit of last year's maying, the white bud
Blown from our stormy kisses and the dead
First rapture of our wild, estranging blood.
You clutched him: there was panther in your eyes,
We breathed like beasts in thickets, on the wall
Our shadows in huge challenge seemed to rise,
The room grew dark with anger. Yet through all
The shame and hurt and pity of it you were
Still strangely and imperishably dear,
As one who loves the wild day none the less
That breaks in bitter hands the buds of Spring,
Whose cold hand stops the breath of loveliness,
And drives the wailing ghost of beauty past,
Making the rose, — even the rose, a thing
For pain to be remembered by at last.
I said: 'My son shall wear his father's sword.'
You said: 'Shall hands once blossoms at my breast
Be stained with blood?' I answered with a word
More bitter, and your own, the bitterest
Stung me to sullen anger, and I said:
'My son shall be no coward of his line
Because his mother choose'; you turned your head
And your eyes grew implacable in mine.
And like a trodden snake you turned to meet
The foe with sudden hissing… then you smiled,
And broke our life in pieces at my feet,
'Your child?' you said: 'Your child?'
poem by Muriel Stuart
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At Home
It's all so familiar and clear,
My eye's accustomed to every turn;
I'm not mistaken- I'm at home;
The wallpaper flowers, the chains of books...
I don't disturb yesterday's ashes -
The fire here has long gone cold.
Like a snake surveying its molted skin,
I gaze upon what I was.
Though many hymns remain unsung
And many blessings unbestowed,
I sense the glint of a different world,
A chance for new perfection!
I am called to unknown mountain peaks
By the chorus of spring,
And these letters from a woman
Lie in a cold, lifeless pile!
Dewdrops shine like eyes in the sun,
As if everything were splashed with silver...
My staff awaits me at the door!
I'm coming! I'm coming alone!
poem by Valery Yaklovich Bryusov
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Tell Me The Truth
Take a stand and let me know
Which direction we shall go
A nearer time than today
Shall not again come our way...
Hearts be true yet hands be still
Paralyzed, they wait until
The moments have all but passed
Few in reach are left to grasp...
Like a ghost crept out at night
Moaning still his weary plight
Haunts the chambers where he lived
The life he spent unfulfilled...
The vapors of something lost
Into composition tossed
Makes this unnatural ghost
A most disconsolate host...
I fear that's what's left of me
An unrepairable deficiency
Truth cannot be falsified
Somewhere-it appears
In full bloom and more sincere...
©All Rights Reserved-2009
poem by Romeo Della Valle
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My Ghost
Take a stand and let me know
Which direction we shall go,
A nearer time than today
Shall not again come our way...
Hearts be true, yet, hands be still,
Paralyzed, they wait until
The moments have all but passed,
Few in reach are left to grasp...
Like a ghost crept out at night
Moaning still his weary plight
Haunts the chambers where he lived
The life he spent unfulfilled...
The vapors of something lost
Into composition tossed,
Makes this unnatural ghost,
A most disconsolate host...
I fear that's what's left of me,
An unrepairable deficiency,
Truth cannot be falsified,
Somewhere-it appears,
In full bloom and more sincere...
©All Rights Reserved-2012
poem by Romeo Della Valle
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Life Is Like A Book
Life is like a book
Written by Selvin ‘Ewan’ McRae
Life is like an open book
Can, t predict the future
Got to read between the lines
Absorbing the culture
Get ready for tomorrow
Life is love
Love can becomes hate
Hate can becomes sorrow
Review your past
Get ready for tomorrow
Flip the pages, turn the chapters
Grasp the contents, form your character
Decipher life’s journey and rule your destiny
Get ready for tomorrow
Slowly turn the pages
Don, t read too fast
Acknowledge the acknowledgements
Good friendship will last
Get ready for tomorrow
What you reap is what you sow
Don, t assume make sure to know
Erase dark memories,
Cherish those that glows
Get ready for tomorrow
poem by Selvin Mcrae
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The Death Of A Beloved
there is your dear cdead one there
at home
his or her photograph ıs stuck
somewhere in an esteemed corner
you look at it
without seeing it in sorrows
when they talk about your dead one
your heart hurts and deeply aches
secretly and silently
some tears on youyr eyes
at first
like all the other dead ones
yıur dear dead one
haunts the house at night
this lingers on for months till morning
and now..sometimes
sometime
it appears n unexpected moments
mostly when you feel terribly lonely
there is your dear dead one over there
at first
the empty place it has left
in your bed behind
is exteremely grieving
and then..as time goes by
the mourning ages
with the wearing off sheets
and like
aged..precious wine
it is tasted sometimes
in just one small cup
there is your dead one
in the twilight
lıke all the other dead ones
it is more closer to you
but seen more unclear
unclearly visible
there is yoıur dead one over there
in faCT
it is lying in the grave
itys flesh not wholly decayed yet
its hands and feet moving a bit
ı knelt down and looked at the soil
ı looked at the grass
ı looked at the beetles
ı looked at the flowers blue blooming
you looked like the spring soil my beloved
ı gazed at you admiring
then ı lay down
my back on the ground
ı see the sky above
ı see the limbs of the trees
ı see the flyıng storks
ı see dreams awake my eyes open
you also look like the sky of the season spring
there
ı see you my beloved
at night
ı lit a fire in the wilderness
ı touch the fire
ı touch the water
ı touch the cloth
ı touch the silver
you lok like the fire
lit under the stars
ı touch you
ı am among the human beings
ı like the human beings
ı like the movements
ı like the thoughts
ı lişke my struggles
ı like all the struggles aimed for goodness
and you
you are a human being in the season spring
my beloved
ı still love you
Nazım HİKMET..Translatıon Metin SAHIN
,
poem by Metin Sahin
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Passion Grows Here
she had been dead until now
oh, who knew what could grow here
under cement and cold ashes
so thick like snow
oh, who knew what passion could be there
in a heart as cold as stone
who knew what looks of vulnerability lie
behind glassy eyes
behind kind and knotted hands
oh, who knew the song of her heart
everyone knows the song
the song of life
it grows in us
when we are most unaware of it
and springs forth upon us when we don't expect
but when we are ready
and oh, are we ready
look at how many places there are to go
look at all of our brothers and sisters here in this place
write
write
know it
you know it
it cannot be contained
it is life itself
everyone has the song
oh, everyone knows this song
poem by Ms. Queenie
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