For Him I Know Not: Vi
suddenly from somewhere
a niche untouched by
reason or rationale
untouched by
the routine affairs of men
surfaces and pulls me
into its womb
for a moment its
emptiness stares at me
and throws me out of gear
in a blink i gather myself
for there can only be
fullness where you are...
23may2010
09.12hrs
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Related quotes
Untouched
Rolling hills
a unique land
vast, and open land
untouched by
human force
free sunset
lively land
untouched by
human hands
pure love is
this land
untouched by
human hands
poem by Zia Jaycee May Trent
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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There It Sat Uncracked
And there it sat...
Uncracked.
On a remote and isolated beach.
Seeking with wishes!
Screaming from the inside,
With its untouched juice and meat.
'Why doesn't anyone come to crack me?
I've been a good coconut!
Am I doomed to lay here forever untouched? '
Unheard are the pleas!
'If anyone there can hear me,
PLEASE crack me open.
I am here with untouched juice and meat! '
And the monkey...
Once a coconut freak,
But now...
Strickly into bananas,
As a preferred diet of choice to eat...
Settled down to nap.
High above in the palm tree!
With eyes dosing to a close!
'If anyone there can hear me,
PLEASE crack me open.
I am here with untouched juice and meat!
I've been a good coconut! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Hands
Untouched bed sheets
Oblivion morn
Untouched bed sheets
Spell betrayed
Silence broken mute
Who slept this heart
Who lost this soul
Sleeping in
Untouched bed sheets
A certain shadow
Talks
To tables shelves and dresses
Hanging from the ceiling
Dancing with sounds
Voices heard in the white noise
Screen saved dream
Moving through
Oblivion morn
Corner alone
All you see are
Hands
Touching
Untouched bed sheets
Spell betrayed
Who touched these palms
Who lost these fingers
Sharp veined skin veiled
Amazingly yours
Outstretched for
A dropp of water
A bit of a sound
A fallen leaf…
Anything
Dying in a web of palm lines
Nailed
Knocking at the door
Opening closing to keep the knock within
Spell betrayed
Pulling the strings of the sky
That makes the body move
Soul lost behind sleeping
Untouched bed sheets
Oblivion morn
Inspired by RUKE Darko Rundek
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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The River, and I
I stand naked, untouched
Alone, unafraid and still
The sun shies away
And the wind brushes past me
While I stand
Naked and untouched
I kneel down,
And feel the river
Flowing relentlessly, unstopped
Angry, loud, cold and pure
The river shows no mercy
As it beats against the rocks
It knows no love, no guilt
It only knows survival
As it finds its way
And so it flows
Relentless and unstopped
Yet, I fight the river
I yearn for its love
Like a fool,
I keep standing, waiting
The river keeps moving
Paying me no heed
Yet I keep standing
Naked and untouched.
poem by Gauri Gupta
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Snow
Snow
Gently falling
Twirling and dancing
As it falls to rest on the ground
Little crystals
Made of ice
Make a soft bed apon a hill
Blanketing everything in peace
Seemingly untouched
The perfection astonishing
All I want to do is rest
To sleep, untouched by time
As soft as it looks
My bed of snow
Enfolds me
I close my eyes
And drift into
wonderful oblivion
poem by Autumn Winds
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Noetic kiss
If you could love me
Even for one second,
You would understand me
And what a tale my thoughts could tell...
You would understand
Why dreams would never be really
Reproduced by delusions …
Those never ending dreams....
By using lost pieces of broken stars,
We could recreate a new amphora
Of light in our souls
And we could swallow
Its blue infinite....
Just you and me and our thrill
Like a butterfly with trembling wings
On the cherry blossom petals of a flower,
Swirling in the breeze,
With their untouched sensations,
Within their untouched world....
Or like a noetic kiss in our sleep.
poem by Marieta Maglas
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No Tittle
I put myself in a lovely ivory tower
whoever does not will be able to grab
I was just too perfect to crap and seduction are venomous
my beauty glow filtered through niche snobbery
between the eternal silence
I put myself in a lovely ivory tower
yet untouched by anyone
the inevitability of death to me by my
all my naive
Copyright © 2012
Remember The Jar In The Yard Praying To The Moon
if you remember me
you must remember too the
empty earthen jar
places at the middle of
the garden
it has no water
it has only air
but the flowers in the garden
adore its
invisible fullness
even when it rains
it feels the emptiness
of the waters
and even when the sun shines
all day
it fills the fullness
of the light
for in truth
there is always reason
for one
who never ceases to live
to crave for
even, death, to know
the beauty of
what is there
and is there not.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Safe in their alabaster chambers,
Safe in their alabaster chambers,
Untouched by morning and untouched by noon,
Sleep the meek members of the resurrection,
Rafter of satin, and roof of stone.
Light laughs the breeze in her castle of sunshine;
Babbles the bee in a stolid ear;
Pipe the sweet birds in ignorant cadences, --
Ah, what sagacity perished here!
Grand go the years in the crescent above them;
Worlds scoop their arcs, and firmaments row,
Diadems drop and Doges surrender,
Soundless as dots on a disk of snow.
poem by Emily Dickinson
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Unaware of Her Perfection
I see her appear from the corner of my vision
And I feel my back stand tall
I want to speak to her and express this feeling inside
I have no words to match at all
Her pattern remains untouched and fluid as she floats through time and space
I struggle to find my next move to make it look like I know what I'm doing
I can only attempt to rise and fall out of my stream of self-consciousness
While she remains untouched and fluid
Unaware of her perfection
Every move I make
Finds the dreaded second guess
While every move she makes is simply the best
poem by ryan Cravatta
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Your pocket
Keep your pocket untouched
As the Wiseman said
You are the only one to touch
To earn and maintain your bread
You cannot leave it untouched
Since though bread rhymes with bed
You can have it attached
And even your back pocket occasionally
Many times by a credit card penetrated
And as bread once had raisins for poor children to smile, bread and cards and pockets are also nowanights,
pleasure and delight.
Men are most fortified
When approximately forty-five
Children smile, today, through pockets children cry
poem by Chrysostomos Tsiailis
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The Circuitous Route Of Existence
i should have stopped
a long time ago, i should have ceased
like a light feeding upon itself
a candle eating all its
body of wax,
i should have done it earlier, quit and leave
and not look back,
i never did it, and there must be a reason
an explanation for this addiction,
a justification for moving on,
i am not saying that it is you,
neither myself,
perhaps it is this emptiness that is seeking
fullness
this fullness that empties itself because it is not at comfortable
when things are heavy
on a journey,
perhaps it is a circle,
and there is no knowing where to start where to end
nothing marked,
all the same, dance of life, monotonous, consuming,
and yet never knowing....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hand Me Downs
Ive taken so many down
Ive helped them all to dismount
Ive followed so many down
I take their hand me downs
All with hope
All with hope
That emptiness brings fullness
And loss of love brings wholeness
All with hope
All with hope
That emptiness brings fullness
And loss of love brings wholeness
To us all
Everything that I believe
Crawls from underneath the streets
Everything I truly love
Comes from somewhere far above
Everything that I believe
Is wrong with you is wrong with me
Everything I truly love
I love in you and I love in me
So give me hope
Give me hope
That emptiness brings fullness
And loss of love brings wholeness
To us all
You swear you cant swim the river
(Ive become the beggar now)
(youve become the saint somehow)
But I saw you running to jump in
(Ive become the beggar now)
(youve become the saint somehow)
I swore Id never be your sinner
(Ive become the beggar now)
(youve become the saint somehow)
Til I held your sin
Hand me downs
Now you ask me why Im here
The same as you
Im scared - its fear
Ive become the beggar now
And youve become the saint somehow
Twist the words and place the blame
And tell me now arent we the same
Tripping in our yellow feet
Checking underneath our sheets
For some hope
Give me hope
That emptiness brings fullness
And loss of love brings wholeness
Give me hope
Give me hope
That emptiness brings fullness
And loss of love brings wholeness
To us all
song performed by by Indigo Girls
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Yogic...
searching for clarity
the best of which is an empty slate
that which we mistake sometimes
for clarity actually is one that contains nothing
as though
emptiness is one of those that has
nothing inside it
as though when things are in their fullness
like a flower in full bloom
as though
fullness is mess and must be
avoided
as though fullness is pain and emptiness
is unloading and must heretofore
be marked as the
ballroom
happiness so to speak
messy is noise and the empty window is clear
but the pool of water without the disturbance of the wind
is full and yet
mirrors some clarifications
that you can see your face unadulterated by grief
undiluted by any dropp of lamentation
one dives farther to see what is real and perhaps
sleep for a while
drowsiness of reality
illusion is a little bit tipsy because of so much thoughts
unthink, undream,
unmind.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Too Deep That It Sits Untouched!
Too deep that it sits untouched!
Just inches below the surface...
If an itch was scratched!
And under their feet.
But leap years away,
From those caught up...
In divisions.
And visions growing within them dim...
When the slightest 'light' enclosed inside,
Is trapped!
To allow an ignorance flourished to set in!
Beginning a diminishing,
Swiftly!
Blowing a blind dust to addict and attract,
Until a rusting holds them back!
And that which is considered too deep to touch...
Fades,
Into familiar charading masquerades.
Paraded and chased...
By those barely thriving,
Without lack of insight!
Once glowing bright with promise.
To assist a few who dared to acknowledge...
Just steps away lay the keys,
To unlock their minds from confinement!
Too deep that it sits untouched!
'Underwhelmed' with a persistent stubbornness that insist...
Those gifts within their reach,
Can not be so near.
Unthinkable it is!
And to accept thoughtlessness.
Too deep that it sits untouched.
A treasure chest of 'jewels'
Unearthed.
Unrecognized!
As much as they perceive themselves.
Floating above the surface to mingle unashamed,
Without a purpose...
To rightfully claim what belongs to them to proclaim!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It Will Be There
No need for one to digest,
What is yet ready for one to order
From a selective menu.
When the appetite begins to crave...
The serving will be just as fresh,
The moment one gets it to devour.
Why sour one's taste,
For something that will sit on a plate...
Untouched without an interest,
To sample what is offered.
It will be there!
Whenever one comes,
And is prepared to indulge.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Us girls
Girls are so beautiful
inside and out
love is big
hair untouched
lips so soft with our gloss
We just want fun
continuous sun
lots of love and friends
good ones, that are
there till the end
A helping hand they will lend
love always they will send
that is a true friend
us girls are so bubbly
so fine and divine
but still boys are the ones
who try the pick up lines
cuz were so gorgeous
no one can recist
come on girls agree
with this
no boy can never handle this
(us) , us beautiful girls
cuz were all so beautiful
inside and out
love is big
hair untouched
lips so soft with our gloss
poem by Nicole Buckland
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Deception
The lull in the dawn
Broken:
Bringing her
Smashing down to earth
Stretches herself in her bed
Hands and feet
Collide with tinned walls
This cacophony
Pulls her
Out of the bed
Chill is still there
Tightly wraps herself
With a tattered shawl
Sweeps the road
To be metalled
For a smooth walk
But herself hasn't
Taken a bath
Nor swept her floor
Throws glances
At smartly dressed
Satchel laden kids
Stops
Rests her had on the broom
Listens to their talk
Smiles
Till the broom pulls her back
Suddenly
Taken aback
Seeing the couple
Hand in hand
Pulls her hand from the broom
Looks at their smiling faces
They come
She looks
They cross
She looks
Away from her they move
She looks
Till she has lost their sight
Stretches herself
Again
A cacophony
And there she is
With the broom
poem by Sanjay Mehta
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My everything
you are my un inherited fortune
you are my cherished pleasure
you are my love fulfilled fountain
you are my untouched treasure
you are the reason I am vague
you are the cause of my ecstasy
you are the healer of my rage
you are the hero of every fantasy
you are my everlasting love
you are my life giver and reaper
you are my angel from above
you are my secret keeper
poem by Ayesha Sartawi
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Herodis Attikos
What glory, this, for Herodis Attikos!
Alexander of Selefkia, one of our better sophists,
on reaching Athens to lecture
finds the city deserted
because Herodis was in the country and all the young men
had followed him there to hear him.
This makes sophist Alexander
write Herodis a letter
begging him to send the Greeks back.
And the tactful Herodis answers at once:
'Along with the Greeks, I'm coming too.'
How many young men now in Alexandria,
in Antioch or Beirut
(being trained by Hellenism as its future orators),
meeting at choice banquets
where the talk is sometimes about fine sophistry,
sometimes about their exquisite love affairs,
suddenly find their attention wandering and fall silent?
Their glasses untouched,
they think about Herodis' fortune-
what other sophist has been given this kind of honour?
Whatever his wish, whatever he does,
the Greeks (the Greeks!) follow him,
not to criticize or debate,
not even to choose any longer,
only to follow.
poem by Constantine P. Cavafy
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