Related quotes: On equinox coastal unguarded brims,...

Sheffield knife

On equinox coastal unguarded brims,
forever far spent beacon's life,
small imperfection, a riddance still,
moon-flash on a Sheffield knife.

I hear his voices in this mauve dawn,
a resolution of his life's altruism,
the images he left before gone,
of odd Styx rife adventism..

One instant of hypothesis his glance,
a tragic wilt, distance of stare,
it was a never equation to solve,
a wine's spill, dim marquee of despair.

I 'll go away from that coastal of Aden,
assuming earth will be mine,
Sunday's sweet, mane of a maiden's mist
and a recall of a wilted sign..

An image of a kid in Sundays feasts,
with my voice of our friendship's skies,
of those that escaped in high mists,
sad advent will be, our shipmate's eyes.

poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Boreas Wind

I shall carry your icon with me, I said
while my feeling on the wind, is spread,
a deity accepts my abstemious libation
without caring for my life's destination.

Sea waves, or songs beguile us, I said,
abut of a sea-shore to worship our dead,
an ornament to a dark Maenad's advent,
Because a stray dog barks to the world.

My words have fled along Boreas wind,
to reach a form, a dream, your silken glint
A glass spill of red wine oblation in mist
my soul flied, adorning your spent feast.

I recall your wishing lips, a smile of doll,
an image of a cumulus to carry my extol
Boreas blasted waving that mauve shawl
pain was obtuse, as my death enthralled.

poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Obstructive red wine spill

Upon this faraway of a Sunday's Shine
we left our apostasy on the altar's line,
a small perfection of old adoration still,
a memory's obstructive red wine spill.

Beacon ghost flashes of dusk will enjoin
an offer of surmises, a tossed-up coin,
images we have left, airy ghostly twine,
for a second principle, you were mine..

I shall depart far oceans of our Holiday,
cast of remembrances never dismay,
my adorned garland time will surpass,
my image and your kind remembrance.

Beguiled will be Charon's aimless gain,
dimensions' adoration of worlds vain,
esteem a honeycomb sweet beehive,
never end this dream's allegory strive.

Our images of two kids in asymptotes,
trajectories of souls on laced shores,
far are my calls of apocopy tangents,
two forms embraced, in tidal advents.

poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Sunday, Bloody Sunday

Well, it was sunday, bloody sunday when the shot the people there.
The cries of thirteen martyrs filled the free derry air.
Is there anyone amongst you dare to blame it on the kids?
Not a soldier boy was bleeding when they nailed the coffin lids!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Well, you claim to be majority, well, you know that its a lie.
Youre really a minority on this sweet emerald isle.
When stormont bans our marches, theyve got a lot to learn,
Internment is no answer, its those mothers turn to burn.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Hey! yeah!
Yeah!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
All you anglo pigs and scotties sent to colonise the north,
You wave your bloody union jacks and you know what its worth.
How dare you hold to ransom a people proud and free?
Keep ireland to the irish, put the english back to sea!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Hey, hey, hey!
Alright!
Ooh -
Yeah!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Well, its always bloody sunday in the concentration camps.
Keep falls road free forever from the bloody british hands.
Repatriate to britain all of you who call it home,
Leave ireland to the irish not for london or for rome.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday.

song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sunday, Bloody Sunday

song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Damaged Staunch

A route you 'll live close to far - equinox doldrum;
complete it was, some flaws in, tangible to revive
moments when my coastal ports stare of me, upon
my knots link to northern parallels, light of dawn,
(how could you be with me upon, a ghostly dawn?)

My dimmer of a Southern Cross, a damaged staunch;
imperious, an ideal route, moorings within stars,
we pilot in strange ports, Sete Cari, Bacau, Aden
Horizon of misty cutter fog, we to repair a rudder
(a blow of eery, ghostly wind, danger of half-tides)

Rains, embraced adjoining, you of a picture still,
my flag's domain persecutes, mail, my post arrives,
absently you - yet absolute, as all my life's tinder,
A gift of your trajectory, an odd caress to abide,
(shallows hide dangers, tidal washed rock's side..)

poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Bull Horn Grip

Eagle like, descends the road,
deep red wine potion, brusque,
as hidden eyes reckon in dusk
of this man to stare and bode.

Hours so, consent to darkness;
starry skies salute his walking,
tis maids of long mane talking,
about a raw prowess to egress.

In the tavern, at the dockside,
pipers play a monotonous mode,
destinies weave, deathly abode,
in deep spaces of brines abide.

A drink is life, glass of grog,
players render the pipes loud,
dim stars blink and a low cloud,
covers the shore in shroud fog.

Pipers monotonous tones wield,
dew drops dropp from foreheads,
Charon awaits for a spilled red,
a bull horn blade of Sheffield.

Outside steps, inside the mist,
maids weave, his life's thread,
Persephone will be his one wed,
his bull horn Sheffield, in fist.

poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Sunday Bloody Sunday

Well it was sunday bloody sunday
When they shot the people there
The cries of thirteen martyrs
Filled the free derry air
Is there any one amongst you
Dare to blame it on the kids?
Not a soldier boy was bleeding
When they nailed the coffin lids!
Sunday bloody sunday
Bloody sundays the day!
You claim to be majority
Well you know that its a lie
Youre really a minority
On this sweet emerald isle
When stormont bans our marches
Theyve got a lot to learn
Internment is no answer
Its those mothers turn to burn!
Sunday bloody sunday
Bloody sundays the day!
Sunday bloody sunday
Bloody sundays the day!
You anglo pigs and scotties
Sent to colonize the north
You wave your bloody union jack
And you know what its worth!
How dare you hold to ransom
A people proud and free
Keep ireland for the irish
Put the english back to sea!
Sunday bloody sunday
Bloody sundays the day!
Well, its always bloody sunday
In the concentration camps
Keep falls road free forever
From the bloody english hands
Repatriate to britain
All of you who call it home
Leave ireland to the irish
Not for london or for rome!
Sunday bloody sunday
Bloody sundays the day!
Sunday bloody sunday
Bloody sundays the day!
Sunday bloody sunday
Bloody sundays the day!
Sunday bloody sunday
Bloody sundays the day!

song performed by by Lennon John
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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An Invite, to Eternity

Wilt thou go with me, sweet maid,
Say, maiden, wilt thou go with me
Through the valley-depths of shade,
Of night and dark obscurity;
Where the path has lost its way,
Where the sun forgets the day,
Where there's nor life nor light to see,
Sweet maiden, wilt thou go with me!

Where stones will turn to flooding streams,
Where plains will rise like ocean waves,
Where life will fade like visioned dreams
And mountains darken into caves,
Say, maiden, wilt thou go with me
Through this sad non-identity,
Where parents live and are forgot,
And sisters live and know us not!

Say, maiden; wilt thou go with me
In this strange death of life to be,
To live in death and be the same,
Without this life or home or name,
At once to be and not to be -
That was and is not -yet to see
Things pass like shadows, and the sky
Above, below, around us lie?

poem by John Clare
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If Thou'lt Be Mine

If thou'lt be mine, the treasures of air,
Of earth, and sea, shall lie at thy feet;
Whatever in Fancy's eye looks fair,
Or in Hope's sweet music sounds most sweet,
Shall be ours -- if thou wilt be mine, love!

Bright flowers shall bloom wherever we rove,
A voice divine shall talk in each stream;
The stars shall look like world of love,
And this earth be all one beautiful dream
In our eyes -- if thou wilt be mine, love!

And thoughts, whose source is hidden and high,
Like streams that come from heaven-ward hills,
Shall keep our hearts, like meads, that lie
To be bathed by those eternal rills,
Ever green, if thou wilt be mine, love!

All this and more the Spirit of Love
Can breathe o'er them who feel his spells;
That heaven, which forms his home above,
He can make on earth, wherever he dwells,
As thou'lt own, -- if thou wilt be mine, love!

poem by Thomas Moore
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Our rendezvous for repeats

These nights take turns on a invernal cold
your image is re-visiting all of our norms
hiding times your persistence will recall
returning waving of our reverie heart-beat

Our first rhythm you world will not forget
as it has left - interval of some bitter call
a small affection hangs tonight in the air
in the wind, this very dawn reveals you

And all your silences around us increase
like bells of Sunday's liturgy are inviting
the years left us ever since our ins abiding
a locked windy call - Aerial incompetent key

Festoons have raised up - engaging, embracing
as if we increased our searches' every stream
as if the voices are frozen in our brumal skies
your little hands in our feast, alone only hurt

Our first steps on those uphills (you do recall?)
all of the colors keep re-posting same rhythm
unequal years are elongating your dormant stills
on every dawn our rendezvous is valid for repeats.
.

poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Invitation To Eternity

Say, wilt thou go with me, sweet maid,
Say, maiden, wilt thou go with me
Through the valley-depths of shade,
Of bright and dark obscurity;
Where the path has lost its way,
Where the sun forgets the day,
Where there's nor light nor life to see,
Sweet maiden, wilt thou go with me?

Where stones will turn to flooding streams,
Where plains will rise like ocean's waves,
Where life will fade like visioned dreams
And darkness darken into caves,
Say, maiden, wilt thou go with me
Through this sad non-identity
Where parents live and are forgot,
And sisters live and know us not?

Say, maiden, wilt thou go with me
In this strange death of life to be,
To live in death and be the same,
Without this life or home or name,
At once to be and not to be--
That was and is not--yet to see
Things pass like shadows, and the sky
Above, below, around us lie?

The land of shadows wilt thou trace,
Nor look nor know each other's face;
The present marred with reason gone,
And past and present both as one?
Say, maiden, can thy life be led
To join the living and the dead?
Then trace thy footsteps on with me:
We are wed to one eternity.

poem by John Clare
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First Sorrow

Unknown face that you clearly see,
while the night hides the apparition;
Hands outstretched, waves on a quay,
caress your grimace with contrition.

Gifts of the air now define your life,
you have escaped in the morning mists,
Sunday afternoon cuts you like a knife,
Or maybe you answered to the winds?

Suns you transformed to rain oracles,
in airy corridors amid winds blither,
distant stars of solitude and miracles
where your Sundays in coldness dither.

Twas when you packed your own response,
- the roar of the sea, a tear to borrow;
you lifted choices to become ensconced,
- you were of your first life, prime sorrow.

poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Planet Earth

Only came outside to watch the nightfall with the rain
I heard you making patterns rhyme like
Some new romantic looking for the tv sound
Youll see Im right some other time look now
Look all around, theres not sign of life
Voices, another sound
Can you hear me now?
This is planet earth, youre looking at planet earth
Bop bop bop bop bop bop bop bop
This is planet earth
My head is stuck on something precious let me know
If youre coming down to land is there
Anybody out there trying to get through?
My eyes are so cloudy I cant see you
Look now, look all around, theres no sign of
Life voices, another sound
Can you hear me now?
This is planet earth
Youre looking at planet earth
Bop bop bop bop bop bop bop bop
This is planet earth
Bop bop bop bop bop bop bop bop
This calling planet earth
Bop bop bop bop bop bop bop bop
This looking at planet earth
Bop bop bop bop bop bop bop bop
This is planet earth

song performed by by Face To Face
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Planet Earth

Only came outside to watch the nightfall with the rain
I heard you making patterns rhyme
Like some new romantic looking for the tv sound
Youll see Im right some other time
Look now, look all around, theres no sign of life
Voices, another sound, can you hear me now?
This is planet earth youre looking at planet earth
Bop bop bop bop bop bop bop bop this is planet earth
My head is stuck on something precious
Let me know if youre coming down to land
Is there anybody out there trying to get through?
My eyes are so cloudy I cant see you
Look now, look all around, theres no sign of life
Voices, another sound, can you hear me now?
This is planet earth youre looking at planet earth
Bop bop bop bop bop bop bop bop this is planet earth
Bop bop bop bop bop bop bop bop calling planet earth
Bop bop bop bop bop bop bop bop looking at planet earth
Bop bop bop bop bop bop bop bop this is planet earth

song performed by by Duran Duran
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Moon-Lover

The Moon is like a ping-pong ball;
I lean against the orchard wall,
And see it soar into the void,
A silky sphere of celluloid.

Then fairy fire enkindles it,
Like gossamer by taper lit,
Until it glows above the trees
As mellow as a Cheddar cheese.

And up and up I watch it press
Into appalling loneliness;
Like realms of ice without a stain,
A corpse Moon come to life again.

Ruthless it drowns a sturdy star
That seeks its regal way to bar;
Seeming with conscious power to grow,
And sweeter, purer, gladder glow.

Dreaming serenely up the sky
Until exultantly on high,
It shimmers with superb delight,
The silver navel of the night.

I have a compact to commune
A monthly midnight with the Moon;
Into its face I stare and stare,
And find sweet understanding there.

As quiet as a toad I sit
And tell my tale of days to it;
The tessellated yarn I've spun
In thirty spells of star and sun.

And the Moon listens pensively,
As placid as a lamb to me;
Until I think there's just us two
In silver world of mist and dew.

In all of spangled space, but I
To stare moon-struck into the sky;
Of billion beings I alone
To praise the Moon as still as stone.

And seal a bond between us two,
Closer than mortal ever knew;
For as mute masses I intone
The Moon is mine and mine alone.

III

To know the Moon as few men may,
One must be just a little fey;
And for our friendship's sake I'm glad
That I am just a trifle mad.

And one with all the wild, wise things,
The furtive folk of fur and wings,
That hold the Moon within their eyes,
And make it nightly sacrifice.

O I will watch the maiden Moon
Dance on the sea with silver shoon;
But with the Queen Moon I will keep
My tryst when all the world's asleep.

As I have kept by land and sea
That tryst for half a century;
Entranced in sibylline suspense
Beyond a world of common-sense.

Until one night the Moon alone
Will look upon a graven stone. . . .
I wonder will it miss me then,
Its lover more than other men?

Or will my wistful ghost be there,
Down ages dim to stare and stare,
On silver nights without a stir--
The Moon's Eternal Worshipper?

poem by Robert William Service
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Thou Love

Don't you still remember
in coastal curve road
in brush wood
I kiss your lip
with the billow wave the ocean
hereafter fatigue
last we sit prolonging
in coastal lip
at the same time look into the wave
what its waves
many times
kissing coast
like sign of our love
what have never used up
and can be swallowed by dark of night
but when earthquake break the coast
we grope to return the love
where our love
be hidden of Thou Love.

poem by Prasetya Utama
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Death Is Quite

Death is quite
Stands, waiting, watching
As your life flash’s
Before your eyes
He waits for you
To make the choice
Do you want to live?
Or do you want to die
In a flash
In a moment
You see highlights
Of your life
The good, the bad
The what ifs
And what you do have
Then one singular voice
Whispers softly in your ear
Reaches out to you
As he says his little prayer
Don’t let her die
Let my mum live
Eyes flutter open
A silhouette comes in view
Small head bent
Tear tracks spent
Then you know
Right then and there
I have a life to live

poem by Kaila George
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Swing High, Sweet Child.

When you awake,
Do you smell the fresh air?
When you arise,
Do you rejoice your sacred life?

Nature's tree,
Standing tall, looking in a fixed stare,
Nature's wind,
Cutting away, sharp as an blood stained knife,

Swing high sweet child,
The Earth is here forever,
Swing low little darling,
Watch as the branchs sway,

Nature's sea,
Will seize to be drained,
Nature's Rock,
Rejoices in a sweet symphonic praise

When you die,
Will you miss the fresh air?
When you fall,
Will you forget the true beauty of life?

Nature's tree,
Will continue to stand and stare,
Nature's wind,
Will continue cutting, this time a clean knife.

poem by Nate Orvis
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My Despair Comes And Goes

My Despair comes and goes
It is not the ultimate despair,
The despair of those who have forever lost hope
The despair of those who have lost what they never will regain
The despair of those for whom there is no way out
No way to begin again
No hope in any way forever

My Despair comes and goes
It is a small Despair compared to many others
When I am in it of course
I believe it like theirs Hopeless forever hopeless

But then a new day begins,
Or a friendly voice says a friendly word
Or something good and positive happens
Or the weather changes
Or some hurt goes away
Some sign comes
And slowly slowly
I am not there anymore.

My Despair comes and goes
It is not the worst Despair
Not yet-

Yesterday I was in Despair
Today I am almost already not

I pray my writing this
Will help some despairing reader feel
They too will hope again.

poem by Shalom Freedman
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Mauve

She was sitting there on the porch steps
Reminiscing kisses and french crepes
When love knocked on my jaded door
As her Amish headdress flew high above the varnished floor

She was a lass from the twilight of Lancaster county
A bespectacled brunette my sweet amorous bounty
A lass with a shy grin and spontaneous unguarded eyes
A stork brought to my doorstep laden with her Amish ties

She is Mauve, always in her pale violet sundresses
With blossoming lavenders sprinkled on her tresses
With a skipping gait and magnetizing stare
As to the gods I parted with a thanksgiving prayer

She left her loved ones for a demi-year stint
With a promise to return, conveyed with a hint
Yet she met me, a lad from the serendipitous of isles
As love detonated in majestic stock piles

A promise keeps you on your nervous tip toes
A promise keeps you grounded to your familial doors
A promise in this case was broken in the name of love
As in the infected heart, a tug metamorphosed to a shove

Yet, I was heartbroken for her loneliness in her dearth of ties
The type that keeps you connected to your loved ones, your family ties
One day, a year past the day she left her beloved heartland
We made our way towards the fields of corn in their doming Pennland

A journey was made in the name of unconditional love
For my life to prosper amidst the corn's doming trove
As I left a college education even my familiar surroundings
For the partake of love, with my Mauve in love's many hued coatings

Now I drive a wagon cart to the Sunday market
Firmly carrying with me an empty cane basket
While Mauve gazes at our creation in her delicate bassinet
With fellowship from our community, in an Amish blanket

Electricity foregone for intimate candle lit dinners
Education foregone for love's unconditional wishes
Sundresses foregone for sweet amor guided by the candle light
One life foregone for another to flourish in god's eternal light

poem by Dilantha Gunawardana
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En.Citatepedia®.ro

Sheffield knife

Related quotes

Boreas Wind

Obstructive red wine spill

Sunday, Bloody Sunday

Sunday, Bloody Sunday

Damaged Staunch

Bull Horn Grip

Sunday Bloody Sunday

An Invite, to Eternity

If Thou'lt Be Mine

Our rendezvous for repeats

Invitation To Eternity

First Sorrow

Planet Earth

Planet Earth

Moon-Lover

Thou Love

Death Is Quite

Swing High, Sweet Child.

My Despair Comes And Goes

Mauve

En.Citatepedia^®.ro