On Seeing You...
On Seeing You...
The body that so far felt
Like a hollow shell
Thrown on the beach
By a vagrant child
The body that so far felt
Like an empty piece of severed bamboo
Fallen on an untread forest path
No longer felt hollow or empty
The shell vibrated with the roar of the sea
The bamboo set ripples of mystic music on the waves
Strangely enough, even the half-moon
Sprayed brightness on the dark niches
Your joy resonated in my heart
Sealing all the crevices and pushed the body
Towards the one loved…
Ah, the stuff dreams are made of
13 May 2011
Evening
poem by Indira Babbellapati
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Grotesque
My
Man
Says
I weigh about four ounces,
Says I must have hollow legs.
And then say I,
'Yes,
I've hollow legs and a hollow soul and body.
There is nothing left of me.
You've burnt me dry.
You
Have
Run
Through all my veins in fever,
Through my soul in fever for
An endless time.
Why,
This small body is like an empty snail shell,
All the living soul of it
Burnt out in lime.'
poem by Lesbia Harford
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Bodhisattva Nightmare
i felt the bullet
as your body fell,
the sickening gasp of light
lost in the void...
i felt the empty
of your stomach turning,
as you staggered weakly
down that long dusty road.
i felt the bone crushing pain
as he struck your face,
again and again....
i felt the sickness
of the stench of the alley...
i felt the fear and despair of the cell,
the not knowing when
it was going to come...
i felt the hatred and fear
they tormented you with,
for who you loved,
and the way you lived....
i felt the hopelessness
of the hard ass streets,
the gun in your pocket...
the monkey on your back....
i felt.... and still feel!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Fallen Angel
I hear those voices on the radio
I switched it off because she told me so
Shes an investigator, shes like an elevator
Nobody told me wed be all alone, you know
Somewhere my friend had left me in that twilight zone, you know
She said, Ive seen your deepest secrets now
Theyre just as lightning in the look of your eyes
I said, I want you baby, isaid, I want some more
I said, I never ever felt it like that moment before
Shes an assassin, shes melting steel in my heart
And I beg for more
She said, I want your body, she said, I want your soul
She said, a fallen angel takes it and shell never let go
Shes an invader, shes from another world
And I beg for more and more
Shes raising feelings cutting like a knife
Shes pouring fire into my liquid life
Theres no escaping from her mysteries
She gives me kisses of the strangest kind, she says
I know youll like it, so come over here, she says
And let that rhythm filter through your body, dear
And then she...
She always did it and she always will
Shell stay that hunter till the end of time
I said, I want you baby, isaid, I want some more
I said, I never ever felt it like that moment before
Shes an assassin, shes melting steel in my heart
And I beg for more
She said, I want your body, she said, I want your soul
She said, a fallen angel takes it and shell never let go
Shes an invader, shes from another world
And I beg for more and more..
Gold/1984
song performed by by Alphaville
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Heart Left
What happens when you feel
the heart is missing
out of something you once loved?
The entrails still linger
and everything is just an empty shell.
The family atmosphere
that once was there is gone
leaving you to feel like a stranger
with nothing to call home.
There are still faces,
but to you none has a name.
You can still remember the fun and smiles
of not so long ago
before the heart left
a body with an empty shell.
You wonder why it happened,
why everything went so wrong
leaving you to feel an outsider
in a place you once call a home.
31 May 2011
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Glimpse of a Dead Moon
like the stolen moon
it just slipped away in existance
just as her smile
fell away from her face
they told her he was dead
no more lithium
she'll take her death bed
just as the moon dies
but in conflict
her smile, her body wont rise
from a forced crescent moon
to a deaths funeral tune
marching foward to her tomb
no longer the cold empty shell
from the moment he died to her
and her love and smile fell
from her apathetic face
stricken with a sickness named tears
every month the moon dies
but no longer will her body rise
her body is a glimpse of a dead moon
poem by Kathryn Garner
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
When not deeply engaged in creative activities, or numbed out by the TV, I felt empty. My heart hurt. I often felt hollow or as if I were some sort of wispy ghost, barely existing.
quote by Judith Wright
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Perhaps The Cat!
he rose from the coffin,
shook himself, and walked,
out the door, out of sight.
the body he left behind,
nothing but an empty shell!
the mourners wept for the body.
who sings the song of
the spirit set free?
who sees with his eyes?
who knows his heart?
perhaps the blind man
at the piano...
perhaps the cat that followed
his steps, in search of food!
perhaps the wind that
closed the door behind...
perhaps the ones who really loved,
or the child waving at the window!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Which Comes First
when two people get married
is it a marriage of Body and Mind?
or is it a marriage of Heart and Soul?
and which one comes first?
SOMETHING TO PONDER!
what did i feel when i proposed?
my Body: told me that i ached for
the joining together, and sexual fulfillment.
my Mind: told me that i wanted to be
with her for the rest of my life.
my Heart: felt empty without her.
my Soul: soared to the highest height
to see all that could be given and achieved.
when i first saw you my Heart stood still
like on a roller coaster going down
and feeling the thrill.
and as that thrill rose, my Soul climbed high above
to show me this beautiful love.
this love so strong that it consumed my Body and Mind.
that it took me to 'the end of time'.
so for me which came first, as you can
plainly see, Heart and Soul was the one for me.
i give you my Heart- and all it contains
for without you, my life will never be the same.
i give you my Soul-for that is the other part
that i have to give
for without a Soul we can not live.
i give you my Mind- for your love to control
for it protects my Heart and Soul.
i give you my Body-
which is an empty shell
for without your love, i'm in living hell.
these are the four parts of this mere man
and i give it to you, for that's my plan.
i would take the human sufferings of
torture, pain and defeat
as long as i know your love i'll keep.
'YOU ARE LIFE' and all that it holds
Body, Mind, Heart and Soul.
take me as you would a breath of air
and my life with you i will share.
I THINK THE ANSWER THAT I HAVE GIVEN
SHOWS THAT LIFE IS WORTH LIVING.
poem by Louis Rams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Flute - a triolet
Hollow and holes of bamboo played with air.
Most natural, magical, musical instrument.
Makes melodious the complete atmosphere
Hollow and holes of bamboo played with air.
In hands of Lord Krishna, Hindus wish to be flute.
In tranquillity, ears sense celestial experience.
Hollow and holes of bamboo played with air;
Most natural, magical, musical instrument.
poem by S.D. Tiwari
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
You Chose…
Before you were born into this body,
You had many life decisions to make.
Where on Earth do I want to live?
Who will I choose for parents?
Of what race and ethnicity will they be?
What religion?
What soul issues will I work with?
What experiences will I choose?
That done, you stored choices into soul memory.
After a body was conceived by your parents;
You entered;
Felt the warmth of their blood.
Felt the density of becoming matter.
Felt the downward pull of gravity.
Your mind was empty, indeed a clean slate…
Yet guided by a knowing soul.
You made a choice to be here, so why do you complain?
Rejoice Beloved,
Live life for life itself!
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Shell on the shelf near my bed
Shell on the shelf near my bed
Take me back to memories box
Last summer on Virgin Island beach
Alone fighting words creating poem
She walks near me without sound
Holding shell in her hands
She comes forward to me
Look at me and smile
Long black hair like water fall
Beauty of Virgin Island
She put the shell on my ear
Sound of waves touching my soul
Hold her hand and start walking
Hand on hand, banded shadows
We walk long way
Ah memories
On other side of bed she lays beside me
Body on body, banded souls
Shell on the shelf near my bed
Take me back to memories box
Last summer on Virgin Island beach
poem by Mohammed AlBalushi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Inward Odyssey
Eating fire, but entangled
in the cobwebs,
of becoming or not becoming
a child again;
in the hollow of a maimed body
looking beyond the opaque
hirsutism
of lies.
Path leads to inward lake
where I will meet you
on the white beach.
And snap the waves.
Let the winds blow now
in reeds,
between cracked heels.
poem by Satish Verma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Head, Perhaps Of An Angel
limestone, with traces of polychromy, c. 1250
Point Dume was the point,
he said, but we never came close,
no matter how far we walked the shale
broken from California.
Someone's garden
had slipped, hanging itself by a vine
from the cliffs of some new Babylon
past Malibu.
Drowning the words,
the wind didn't fling back in our faces,
the Pacific washed up a shell:
around an alabastron
of salt water for the dead,
seaweed rustled its papers, drying them out,
until it died. Waves kept crashing
into the heart
of each shell
I held to my ear like a phone,
but they were just the waves of my blood.
And through it all
I heard him say,
how could it be nine months ago
his grandson had taken his own life,
somewhere back east?
He was fifteen.
O Pacific, what good is our grief?
Something screamed at the sandy child
who poured seawater
into a hole.
Child, you'll never empty the ocean,
Augustine said. How can I believe?
The wet fist of a wave
dissolved in sand.
Like a saint, a seagull flapped down the beach
in search of something raw—an angel
with an empty pail?
No, a teenage boy,
hands big as a man's, held a sea slug
quaking like an aspic. Under a rock, another
drew into its body
a creature
larger than itself. Live, said Death,
to child and childless alike, indifferently.
I am coming.
poem by Debora Greger
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Of My Beloved
my bed is cold, my pillows too
my blanket not taking the heat of my body
the window of my room is open
to the brightness of the moon tonight
i wish to hear the sound of familiar steps
on the bamboo leaves....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Jesus Inspires
JESUS inspires me in all that i do
JESUS inspires me and makes my dreams come true.
I felt lost and empty like a sea shell
my heart didn't know where to dwell.
the emptiness was tearing me apart
so I searched till I found my heart.
then I started to search for my soul
I knew 'that' would make me whole.
once I had found the two
then I knew just what to do.
joining them together I was now complete.
I felt the joy and began to weep.
he was there every step of the way
and all I had to do was search and pray.
poem by Louis Rams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Fallen, Empty, And Broken
fallen soldier
fallen sky
fallen angel
from on high
fallen heartache
fallen soul
fallen man
losing control
empty bed
empty arms
empty dreams
empty heart
empty wallet
empty hands
cant take nothin'
from an empty man
broken promises
broken vows
broken spirit
wont allow
broken fences
broken lives
broken tomorrows
broken nights
fallen, empty, and broken
every road is the same
bent, bruised, and shaken
still numb from the pain
now you dont answer
when i call out your name
fallen, empty, and broken
walking in the rain...
fallen, empty, and broken...
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Cicada
The cicada sheds his skin in summer,
Leaving behind an empty shell, a trace
Of his former self. The callous is left
With the peeling of its flesh. Now, a raw,
Reborn body remains, unspoiled by
The surfaces he felt beneath his claw,
Or the textures that formed against his weight.
A new cicada crawls forth from this case,
And he is no longer any number
Than the Earth that firms underneath his feet.
His wings buzz, freed from the crispness of time's
Dusty chrysalis. A much younger face
Emerges with eyes fresh from the slumber.
Awake, he couldn't believe what he saw.
poem by Tim Stensloff
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Oriental Sadness
(ransford)
How soon tears begin to tumble
From her laughing eyes
Shes been talking to somebody
Who told her lies
Shell never trust in anybody no more
Who told her lies
Shell never trust in anybody no more
How can I begin to reach her
Let her know the truth
What that someone has been saying
Is only lies
Shell never trust in anybody no more
Its only lies
Shell never trust in anybody no more
How could she think that i
Would take advantage of a girl like her
How could she think that i
Would sacrifice all I have felt for her
Would sacrifice all I have felt for her
Like a flower she is fading
Soon shell wilt and die
If she doesnt get the sunlight
That I can give
Shell never trust in anybody no more
That I can give
Shell never trust in anybody no more
Verse 3
Verse 4
song performed by by Hollies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Cry Of The Lonely...
i have heard the cry of the lonely,
the tree bent with grief for the ocean.
the squirrel who dreams of wings,
the mountain melting with need to wander.
the child orphaned by war or poverty,
the monk on fire for a world that's blind...
the beaten body in the prison cell,
the door opened, no one there.
the naked body weeping on an empty bed,
the voice calling without echo.
the tongue that walks the rainy night...
the moon hidden by clouds cold and distant.
the lonesome sound of the faraway train,
the lover who walks the garden...
the empty streets, the hollowed houses,
where not even the scent of memory lingers.
the bruised hand stuck in the pocket,
the letter never addressed.
the flower that bloomed, and no one saw,
the bent nail on the back of the shed....
the candle snuffed.... the last words lost...
lips swollen, set, and driven...
am i the cry, or just the shell,
that brushes against your heart without name?
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Memory that yearns to join the centre, a limb remembering the body from which it has been severed, like those bamboo thighs of the god.
quote by Derek Walcott
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!