A Great Character
The sturdy armchair squatted,
Totally untaxed beneath her frail frame.
Her hands that had yielded all opacity,
Dangled loosely from cardiganed wrists,
The gauze-like skin revealing a road map of veins,
Still transporting their vintage claret.
Her heart yet harboured reserves of joy,
Which leaked girlishly in titters,
For though Alzheimer's had done it's utmost
To blunt the senses,
Her humour remained sharp and defiant.
So too did her compulsion to rebuke parental slipshodiness.
Now it's angels who fear straying from best practise.
poem by Greg Costello
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Beneath The Skin
Beneath the Skin a caustic red river
Beneath the Skin corrosive abuser
Beneath the Skin genetic in rupture
Beneath the Skin all cold and hungered
Beneath the Skin a still born forgiveness
Beneath the Skin cell transfer in whispers
Beneath the Skin a lover cries murder
Beneath the Skin all cold and hungered
Beneath the Skin i wasted this moment
Beneath the Skin old undiscovered
Beneath the Skin another lies ruptured
Beneath the Skin all cold and hungered
song performed by by Queen Adreena
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Subconciously
at the surface is a roy
could be roy something else
you face him
beneath a roy could be a jerry something
that you have met but could not fully
remember
you are determined not to be confused
and so you focus on the road that the the yellow bus is taking you
it is nothing but imagination
you are in the house
doing nothing because writing is actually nothing
beneath you is someone else and it
(a thing or something) is telling you what to write
you are not alarmed
it is nothing it is nothing but words and words are nothing
as a matter of familiarity
beneath your mind is the heart
beneath that heart are so many things
you try to enumerate names
and more names
and places
until you reach a certain marker, shades of red,
pathways of veins, flowing blood, all kept and contained
within the sound system
and then you look at your hands
beneath it
someone so lovely and beautiful
someone you desired for long
beneath you
and then you stop.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I'll Be Around
i'll be around...
in the wind that rustles your curtains,
in the whisper of darkness that taunts the moonlight.
in the silence that roars, and is then still...
in the prayers that children do not understand,
in the dying old man's aloneness.
in the blood that testifies against the hands,
in the hands that cannot escape the heart.
in the feet walking by their own will,
in the soul scarred by mistakes.
in the hungry mouth and the desperate eyes
that have seen and known too much.
in the fear that comes in the middle of the night,
and the dawn that never seems to come.
in the need to worship and the faith to act,
in the doubt that destroys false idols.
in the pound of the guns, the cries for help,
and the fire that has no favorites.
in the defiant stand, feet set firm,
the mark of the chains on backs and wrists.
in the freedom that does not buy and sell,
that sees beneath the skin.
in the constant dialogue of 'i and thou',
in the me that disperses and dissolves.
in the hammer, the saw, and the shovel,
in the grasses beneath bare feet.
in the song of the whipporwill,
and the final hoot of the owl.
in the howling of wolves,
and the sleepy stillness of the cattle.
in the hidden depths of your heart,
and the quiet darkness that forms your thoughts.
in the grain of the tree just cut,
and the rhythm of the fire going dead.
in every voice that cries for justice,
in every hand that reaches for help!
in the working hum of common thread,
in the simple dignity of the family.
in the ghosts of soldiers lost in battle,
in the weeping of mothers over their graves.
and in the constant courage of the peacemakers,
the voice of reason and compassion.
in the truth that all men are equal...
in the bridge from here to there!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Which is chaste?
My eyes are sharper than swords.
Your attention was held.
My words are sharper than eyes.
Your heart was won.
My pen is sharper than words.
Your senses struggle.
Is my sharpest weapon blunt
‘Cause your senses are strong?
No, your senses are iron sheathed.
Else, your senses are the weakest.
The senses shown can be visible.
Hence you dread to show.
The shown heart, who knows?
Hence, you dare to concede.
Heart, more precious, is given.
Yet you guard your senses.
Throne is lost; sword is guarded.
War is lost; battle is waged.
Kings are friendly; subjects only war.
Heart is given; senses are withheld.
Visibly chaste; Invisibly what?
13.06.99
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Recall
The men were pulled out
from homes,
died on road,
burned to bones and ashes.
At the behest of tall,
unforgiving state.
Compulsion of armchair and mansion
distorts, the regrets
of centuries.
The stones,
blameless flowers,
spurting blood
do not recall any God.
poem by Satish Verma
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Sestina - Safe Hands
I enfold her as if I hold in my hands
A diaphanous shawl woven loosely
From silken skeins of hope and fear. I feel
Strongly, she’s so much part of me. Obliviously
She wriggles free. I glance at my daughter
Her mum, and marvel at inheritance.
I wrap all this stuff of inheritance
Into trust, quietly hoping the safe hands
Of my kindly, compassionate daughter
Will suffice. Experience tells me loosely
Held reigns are best. The child plays obliviously.
I watch. She echoes in me. Trembling I feel
The pain inevitably she will feel.
I fear quietly; knowing her inheritance;
The curse of memory. Now obliviously
She recalls careless conversation. Hands
On to me stray words, understood loosely
With looks I try to forewarn my daughter
But the treacherous trait has skipped. My daughter
Down to earth, sensible, is born not to feel
Hurts that haunt, doubts that linger loosely.
If only we could choose the inheritance
We bequeath. But it is out of our hands,
We make love, create life obliviously.
I say nothing, pretend obliviously
Disguise fears I dare not share. My daughter
Who loves her, is all she needs. Holding hands
We walk through bustling, crowded streets. I feel
Her tiny linked fingers. The inheritance
Of knowing held gently within mine, loosely.
The web of my life was woven loosely
I held fast to no-one. Obliviously
This child makes me unearth an inheritance
Painstakingly hid. Bonded by my daughter
To my granddaughter tenderly I feel
Burning passions branded into our hands.
Envoi
I held her loosely, I let my daughter
Feel, obliviously unaware of my
Inheritance, she unbinds my hands
poem by Janet Budd
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A musician cannot move others unless he too is moved. He must of necessity feel all of the affects that he hopes to arouse in his audience, for the revealing of his own humour will stimulate a like humour in the listener.
quote by Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Her legs are like earrings…
Her legs are like earrings, I've never worn.
There something to be dangled,
Before the electrical storm,
Like a fig-vine she snakes through my mind.
Clad in jingling charms these veils fall…
Shedding her skin of fear
Shedding her gilt, she burns to the core.
All scales removed; she wriggles,
Curled like a frond, moist in every pore.
The jugnle has abducted her senses…
A great winding river enters her falls…
Her kisses like big sticky date's tremble.
As she slivers aside, dawns dewy-wet morn.
poem by Mark Heathcote
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Claret Pagoda in the Cerulean River
A slow waltz
In the crimson line
Of the dusk's horizon
Drifts me back
Into the cerulean river
Where I used to glide
In canoes with lovely people
Incarcerating myself;
My thoughts, my squalors,
My despairs, my bliss,
That no soul would understand
In a profound reclusion
That not a single soul
Ever understood.
In a slow waltz
Between my hands
And the grating oars,
And between the paddles
And the sporadic tides,
I have feigned a smile
With the jocund compulsion
As we draw nearer to the sun
But my soul is left ashore
Feigning a lacquer smile
That no soul
Ever understood
In a slow waltz
From five forlorn years
I bid riddance,
For long forlorn!
And we brushed our heels
On the cold river's
Reaching hands
And ferry ourselves
In a claret pagoda
Of grotesque titivations
Of jumbled jewelries
From writings to revelries
Piercing through
The thicket of ignorance
That deemed us back
Into estranged acquaintances
And we go back into
Moving towards the dusk
Only this time,
I am alone
As I spew this robust
Dreams and idyllic spells
That should buoy our pagoda
My lost friends,
If I still have you
In spite of losing you
In the flourishing beckons
Of the tides;
In merriment
And in defeat,
I'm building a claret pagoda
In the semblance of the sun's
Skin and viscera
Because that's what we are
In this hostile river;
A contrast in the toppling
Threshold of the firmament,
Take my invitation
And let the current bludgeon
You back into the latent
Times of our concatenations.
In a slow waltz
Between my emollient soul
And the serrated spines
Slathering the pen,
I envisioned a pagoda
Pristine in claret
Defying the cerulean water,
By myself
In a slow waltz
With solitariness
That no soul would ever
Understand.
poem by Norman Santos
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To fulfill my heart’s desire
I was looking
From the window of my room
When I saw her in a beautiful costume
Walking slowly on the road below
She was full of grace and poise
I liked her in first sight
Her beauty struck me, deep in my heart
My eyes remained wide open
By the time I regained my senses
Found her missing from the scene
I stood on the road daily for hours
To meet her face to face
Wanting to tell
How I felt about her?
But she was never to be seen again
I Came to know after many days
She was a tourist
Who came for a day?
Throughout the country now I travel
To fulfill my heart’s desire
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
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Surviving Existence after Seeing Her
Cool cellar wine,
A summer vintage
Of many drunken seasons lovelorn,
I dreamt of kissing her eyes
On midnights scattered now
To oblivion.
Her waist in the moonlight,
She wore a simple dress more majestic
On her frame than a Rembrandt;
I fell victim to the tender ache of desire,
Orgasmic but as soft as a feather.
Jealousy and deprival,
The wearing away of youth
And tragic denial,
If only to weep
One more time beside her
Or study her slender wrists
Again in the sunlight!
poem by Uriah Hamilton
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There Pass the Careless People
There pass the careless people
That call their souls their own:
Here by the road I loiter,
How idle and alone.
Ah, past the plunge of plummet,
In seas I cannot sound,
My heart and soul and senses,
World without end, are drowned.
His folly has not fellow
Beneath the blue of day
That gives to man or woman
His heart and soul away.
There flowers no balm to sain him
From east of earth to west
That's lost for everlasting
The heart out of his breast.
Here by the labouring highway
With empty hands I stroll:
Sea-deep, till doomsday morning,
Lie lost my heart and soul.
poem by Alfred Edward Housman
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Prince Of Darkness
Your cruel device
Your blood, like ice
One look could kill
My pain, your thrill
I want to love you but I better not
touch (Don't touch)
I want to hold you but my senses
tell me to stop
I want to kiss you but I want it too
much (Too much)
I want to taste you but your lips
are venomous poison
You're poison running through my
veins
You're poison, I don't want to
break these chains
Your mouth, so hot
Your web, I'm caught
Your skin, so wet
Black lace on sweat
I hear you calling and it's needles
and pins (And pins)
I want to hurt you just to hear you
screaming my name
Don't want to touch you but
You're under my skin (Deep in)
I want to kiss you but your lips
are venomous poison
You're poison running through my veins
You're poison, I don't wanna
break these chains
Poison
One look could kill
My pain, your thrill
I want to love you but I better not
touch (Don't touch)
I want to hold you but my senses
tell me to stop
I want to kiss you but I want it too
much (Too much)
I want to taste you but your lips
are venomous poison
You're poison running through my
veins
You're poison, I don't wanna
break these chains
Poison
I want to love you but I better not
touch (Don't touch)
I want to hold you but my senses
tell me to stop
I want to kiss you but I want it too
much (Too much)
I want to taste you but your lips
are venomous poison, yeah
I don't want to break these chains
Poison, oh no
Runnin' deep inside my veins,
Burnin' deep inside my veins
It's poison
I dont't wanna break these chains
Poison
-aca
song performed by by Alice Cooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hesterna Rosa
When a girl's fancy flutters to a man,
It is but as a bird that flies and cries;
She has a winged thing's April memories
Of sunshine, and the morning Spring began.
Love at her heart, importuning a tryst,
Finds in her senses little heed of it;
But her bright lips most girlishly admit
The simple homeliness of being kissed.
Kiss and be friends, or, when the kissing closes,
Part, as we were together, merely friends;
Why should we weep because the summer ends,
And some sweet moments ended with the roses?
poem by Arthur Symons
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Duel Madness
(Virtual systems ready)
Got to find a way just to play just a little game
Got a compulsion, want to be a champion
Got to feel the heart, got to be smart play the card
Got to get inside the mind of my counterpart
Yeah!
That's the key, I'm a split personality
Duel Sensation, that's my destiny
I've got Duel Madness in my brain
Monster influence, in my veins
Got find a way inside this fantasy
Holographic Duelling Monster reality
Got to find a way, got to see my strategies
Yu-Gi-Oh! I'm a dual duality
I've got Duel Madness in my brain
Summon the Dragon. Blue-Eyes White
Send in the Swords of Revealing Light
Will Yugi control the power
Or will the power control Yugi?
Got a card face down, make a face-up crowd
Face up, showdown, say the words out loud
Duel Madness!
I've got Duel Madness in my brain
Monster influence, in my veins
Got to think be wise, realise the situation
Animate your cards, make a power combination
Sick-a-pow, Sick-a-Pow
Sick-a-sick-a-pow, Pow
Wanna do, wanna do
What I wanna wanna do?
Sick-a-pow, Sick-a-Pow
Sick-a-sick-a-pow, Pow
Wanna do, wanna do
What I wanna wanna do?
Sick-a-pow, Sick-a-Pow
Sick-a-sick-a-pow, Pow
Wanna do, wanna do
What I wanna wanna do?
I've got Duel Madness in my brain
Monster influence, in my veins
I've got Duel Madness in my brain
Monster influence, in my veins
I've got Duel Madness in my brain
Monster influence, in my veins
song performed by by Yu-Gi-Oh
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Kissing My Love
When I'm kissing my love
I can hear a thump thumping in my head
Mmm when I'm kissing my love
I close my eyes and see
A pretty city
With a million flowerbeds
Ah I can hear the angels sing
Songs that only angels sing
He's such a pretty thing
That I can feel my heart
Just a thumping and a skipping
When I'm kissing my love
Mmm ah when I'm kissing my love
I feel the blood pumping in my veins
Mmm when I'm kissing my love
He's such a tender sender
With a sweet young frame
Oh he's so good at what he does
All I wanna do is kiss and hug
He's got me in love
And I can feel my heart
Just a thumping and a skipping
When I'm kissing my love
When I'm kissing my love
When he's kissing me
When I'm kissing my love
When he's kissing me
When he's kissing me
When I'm kissing my love
When he's kissing me
When I'm kissing my love
When I'm kissing my love
When he's kissing me
When I'm kissing my love
When he's kissing me
When he's kissing me
When I'm kissing my love
When he's kissing me
When I'm kissing my love
When he's kissing me
When I'm kissing my love
When he's kissing me
When I'm kissing my love
Ah when I'm kissing my love
I feel the blood pumping in my veins
Oh when I'm kissing my love
He's such a tender sender
With a sweet young frame
Oh now he's so good at what he does
All I wanna do is kiss and hug
He's got me in love
And I can feel my heart
Just a thumping and a skipping
When I'm kissing my love
When I'm kissing my love
When he's k
song performed by by Fiona Apple
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You Came To My Senses
I picture you on the beach
Lying in the sand
Out of reach of my trembling hands
I picture you in a car
Blonde hair in the wind
I picture you in my arms
And the touch of your skin
The smile on your face
The way that you taste
(chorus)
You come to my senses
Every time I close my eyes
I have no defenses
You come to my senses
I cant stop this ache inside
I have no defenses
You come to my senses
Driving home in the cold
January rain
Ive got to find my way out of this pain
I reached for you in the night
I dreamed of your kiss
I woke before it got light
With your name on my lips
Alone in my bed
Your voice in my head
(chorus)
I picture you in my arms
And the touch of your skin
The smile on your face
The way that you taste
You come to my senses
Every time I close my eyes
I have no defenses
You come to my senses
I cant stop this ache inside
Oh, I have no defenses
You come to my senses
Ah...
song performed by by Chicago
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You Come To My Senses
I picture you on the beach
Lying in the sand
Out of reach of my trembling hands
I picture you in a car
Blonde hair in the wind
I picture you in my arms
And the touch of your skin
The smile on your face
The way that you taste
(chorus)
You come to my senses
Every time i close my eyes
I have no defenses
You come to my senses
I can't stop this ache inside
I have no defenses
You come to my senses
Driving home in the cold
January rain
I've got to find my way out of this pain
I reached for you in the night
I dreamed of your kiss
I woke before it got light
With your name on my lips
Alone in my bed
Your voice in my head
(chorus)
I picture you in my arms
And the touch of your skin
The smile on your face
The way that you taste
You come to my senses
Every time i close my eyes
I have no defenses
You come to my senses
I can't stop this ache inside
Oh, i have no defenses
You come to my senses
Ah...
song performed by by Chicago
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Beware! Grown Up Children!
Children need parental love,
Children utilise parental services,
Children get life with parental guidance,
Children want parental money and property;
As children grow and earn on their own,
Parents get older and senior in their turn,
Parents getting older and lose their memory,
asks many doubts and queries everyday;
Grown up children are not patient
nowadays for every parental query,
They care for their own children only
and blow up their parents to old-age homes!
The history will repeat,
Beware! Grown up children! !
poem by V.K. Kanniappan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Asphalt
Light your cigarette, then, in this shadow,
And talk to her, your arm engaged with hers.
Heavily over your heads the eaten maple
In the dead air of August strains and stirs.
Her stone-white face, in the lamp-light, turns toward you;
Darkly, with time-dark eyes, she questions you
Whether this universe is what she thinks it—
Simple and passionate and profound and true—
Or whether, as with a sound of dim disaster,
A plaintive music brought to a huddled fall,
Some ancient treachery slides through the heart of things—
The last star falling, seen from the utmost wall…
And you—what sinister, far, reserves of laughter,
What understandings, remote, perplexed, remain
Unguessed forever by her who is your victim—
Victim, of whom you too are victim again?
…Come! let us dance once more on the ancient asphalt:
Seeing, beneath its strange and recent shape,
The eternal horror of rock, from which, for ever,
We toss our tortured hands, to no escape.
poem by Conrad Potter Aiken
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