A Mood
You are so light and gay,
So slight, sweet maid-
Your limbs like leaves in play,
Or beams that grasses braid :
O ! Joys whose jewels pray
My breast to be inlaid.
Frail fairy of the streets ;
Strong, dainty lure;
For all men's eyes the sweets
Whose lack makes hearts so poor ;
While your heart loveless beats.
Light, laughing, and impure.
O ! Fragrant waft of flesh,
Float through me so-
My limbs are in your mesh,
My blood forgets to flow ;
Ah ! Lilied meadows fresh,
It knows where it would go.
poem by Isaac Rosenberg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Said The Thistle-Down
'If thou wilt hold my silver hair,
O Lady sweet and bright;
I'll bring thee, maiden darling, where
Thy lover is to-night.
Lay down thy robe of cloth of gold--
Gold, weigheth heavily,
Thy necklace wound in jewell'd fold,
And hie thee forth with me.'
'O Thistle-down, dear Thistle-down,
I've laid my robe aside;
My necklace and my jewell'd crown,
And yet I cannot glide
Along the silver crests of night
With thee, light thing, with thee.
Rain would I try the airy flight,
What sayest thou to me?'
'If thou wilt hold my silver hair,
O maiden fair and proud;
We'll float upon the purple air
High as yon lilied cloud.
There is a jewel weighs thy heart;
If thou with me wouldst glide
That cold, cold jewel place apart--
The jewel of thy pride!'
'O Thistle-down, dear Thistle-down
That jewel part I've set;
With golden robe and shining crown
And cannot follow yet!
Fain would I clasp thy silver tress
And float on high with thee;
Yet somewhat me to earth doth press--
What sayest thou to me?
'If thou wilt hold my silver hair
O lady, sweet and chaste;
We'll dance upon the sparkling air
And to thy lover haste.
A lily lies upon thy breast
Snow-white as it can be--
It holds thee strong--sweet, with the rest
Yield lilied chastity.'
'O Thistle-down, false Thistle-down
I've parted Pride and Gold;
Laid past my jewels and my crown--
My golden robings' fold.
I will not lay my lily past--
Love's light as vanity
When to the mocking wind is cast
The lily, Chastity.'
poem by Isabella Valancy Crawford
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Light From The Creator
// light from the creator //
Let there be light
In the inner soul
In the eyes, into the blood
Light, light, Light, light, Light, light
Light every where in the body,
Light, light in the vein,
In the brain, in the present
To enlighten the darkness
In the deep darken hearts,
Light comes Light comes
To cross the light years.
Light comes to align with
The whole Universe.
21 august,2012, bb.
poem by Baki Nasrullah
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Light O my Light - Original by Rabindranath Tagore
Light O my Light!
The world is full of Light!
Light has washed my eyesight!
I love the Light!
Light dances near my soul; Light is so cute!
Light makes sound of music in my heart’s lute!
Sky wakes up and wind blows!
Everyone laughs of course!
In the current of Light
Hundreds of butterflies sail themselves!
In the ripples of Light
All the creepers dance in God’s names!
There is gold in the clouds in this morning!
Countless gems are out there O the best King!
Even leaves are laughing!
Music overflowing!
poem by Asif Andalib
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Im Just A Man
(backing vocals by billie godfrey & caroline mackendrick)
Im just a man
My will is so strong
When Ive got plans
I close my eyes to the pain
My mother ran
My father left town
But we still have
Whats necessary to go on
Flesh and blood
Flesh and blood
Im part of you
Youre part of me
Theres nothing said
That cannot be undone
My brothers sane
His heart is so strong
Hes killed some pain
To himself nearly did the same
It washed away
Into the cruel sea
Like everything
Thats built upon the sand
Flesh and blood
Flesh and blood
Sweet sister t
She loved so long and hard
Kept to herself
Until that right man came along
Some men they lie
Some men they cheat
But now shes found
Someone to be as strong
Im just a man
My will is so strong
When Ive got plans
I close my eyes to the pain
My father ran
(flesh and blood)
My mother left town
But we still have
(flesh and blood)
Whats necessary to go on
Im part of you
Youre part of me
song performed by by INXS
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hermaphroditus
I.
LIFT UP thy lips, turn round, look back for love,
Blind love that comes by night and casts out rest;
Of all things tired thy lips look weariest,
Save the long smile that they are wearied of.
Ah sweet, albeit no love be sweet enough,
Choose of two loves and cleave unto the best;
Two loves at either blossom of thy breast
Strive until one be under and one above.
Their breath is fire upon the amorous air,
Fire in thine eyes and where thy lips suspire:
And whosoever hath seen thee, being so fair,
Two things turn all his life and blood to fire;
A strong desire begot on great despair,
A great despair cast out by strong desire.
II.
Where between sleep and life some brief space is,
With love like gold bound round about the head,
Sex to sweet sex with lips and limbs is wed,
Turning the fruitful feud of hers and his
To the waste wedlock of a sterile kiss;
Yet from them something like as fire is shed
That shall not be assuaged till death be dead,
Though neither life nor sleep can find out this.
Love made himself of flesh that perisheth
A pleasure-house for all the loves his kin;
But on the one side sat a man like death,
And on the other a woman sat like sin.
So with veiled eyes and sobs between his breath
Love turned himself and would not enter in.
III.
Love, is it love or sleep or shadow or light
That lies between thine eyelids and thine eyes?
Like a flower laid upon a flower it lies,
Or like the night’s dew laid upon the night.
Love stands upon thy left hand and thy right,
Yet by no sunset and by no moonrise
Shall make thee man and ease a woman’s sighs,
Or make thee woman for a man’s delight.
To what strange end hath some strange god made fair
The double blossom of two fruitless flowers?
Hid love in all the folds of all thy hair,
Fed thee on summers, watered thee with showers,
Given all the gold that all the seasons wear
To thee that art a thing of barren hours?
IV.
Yea, love, I see; it is not love but fear.
Nay, sweet, it is not fear but love, I know;
Or wherefore should thy body’s blossom blow
So sweetly, or thine eyelids leave so clear
Thy gracious eyes that never made a tear—
Though for their love our tears like blood should flow,
Though love and life and death should come and go,
So dreadful, so desirable, so dear?
Yea, sweet, I know; I saw in what swift wise
Beneath the woman’s and the water’s kiss
Thy moist limbs melted into Salmacis,
And the large light turned tender in thine eyes,
And all thy boy’s breath softened into sighs;
But Love being blind, how should he know of this?
Au Musée du Louvre, Mars 1863.
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dream Lover
The flowers outside my window
whose perfume scents the air
with a sweet sensation
as I lay on my bed.
They waft through the window
by a cool summer breeze
as I lay is soft perfusion
while around my light
moths begin to play.
My eyes are heavy
as sweet dreams call,
swirling around my head
while with my dream lover
my heart begins to fall.
The stars embedded in the night sky
like thousands of jewels
resting gently on black velvet.
I begin the dance with my dream lover
while moonbeams play around at our feet
as slowly in the darkness
I am captured by sleep.
6 September 2008
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Unseen Worlds
On trade winds of time they travel by light
Their voices float on sound-lit beams
They fly just past our muted sight
On prism blessed transparent wings
A voice as soft as a fledgling dove
Breath as sweet as an angels love.
If sought with mortal eyes
They are masters of disguise
And forever will they elude
For only with the heart and soul
May the fairy world be viewed.
Once you've seen the fairy realm
You'll never disbelieve
The stories told in ancient times
Of kingdoms once perceived.
Be faithful to the mighty oak
For there in lies the portal
Most grand and wise of ancient trees
A hope for every mortal
So sad for those who can not see
A life of toil and fears
The magic warmth of fairy lights
Shall never dry their tears
On the day when realms collide
We'll see a new sunrise
And realities unseen to us
Will appear before our eyes
poem by Lynne FincherSpringarden
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Heart Beats
Mind thinks, Heart feels and the Heart Beats,
Heart Beats, When it finds its soulmate.
Souls meet eachother, when we meet eachother
We meet, we think, we feel and the Heart Beats.
My heart beats,
And your heart beats are one
It is one, because our heart beats are one
It beats for eachother into our hearts,
Through our hearts and for our hearts,
Which beats for eachother.
My heart beats, when we meet,
It draws us near, to make us
Apart for ever, and leaves us isolated
Forever, and to meet never or ever.
poem by Rajesh Kumar Vaishnaw
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet. The Day Is Gone
The day is gone, and all its sweets are gone!
Sweet voice, sweet lips, soft hand, and softer breast,
Warm breath, light whisper, tender semitone,
Bright eyes, accomplished shape, and lang'rous waist!
Faded the flower and all its budded charms,
Faded the sight of beauty from my eyes,
Faded the shape of beauty from my arms,
Faded the voice, warmth, whiteness, paradise--
Vanished unseasonably at shut of eve,
When the dusk holiday -- or holinight
Of fragrant-curtained love begins to weave
The woof of darkness thick, for hid delight;
But, as I've read love's missal through today,
He'll let me sleep, seeing I fast and pray.
poem by John Keats
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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360
hair blown by the wind the two of us in the morning meadows
laughing and light as the air that carries us to the sea
you hold my hand you lead me you pull the kite with you
colors of blue and white spreading in the skies
you tie the kite on a tree and we lay ourselves on the grass
softness is you and my heart beats the notes of our love song
we sit side by side we feel we own this wide world
we hear the birds sing we listen to the flow of the river
we see how free are the fish riding on the currents
we look at each other's eyes, then we by instinct close
what was once open, we go inside us, gently our lips touch
there is so much color when our eyes closed
it tastes so sweet that our souls are like tongues licking
the sweetest honey on our skins on our whole bodies
we write happiness not in the usual words that they use
the ink is invisible the pen moves not with the hand but
with the heart with the soul
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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How Do We Write Happiness?
hair blown by the wind the two of us in the morning meadows
laughing and light as the air that carries us to the sea
you hold my hand you lead me you pull the kite with you
colors of blue and white spreading in the skies
you tie the kite on a tree and we lay ourselves on the grass
softness is you and my heart beats the notes of our love song
we sit side by side we feel we own this wide world
we hear the birds sing we listen to the flow of the river
we see how free are the fish riding on the currents
we look at each other's eyes, then we by instinct close
what was once open, we go inside us, gently our lips touch
there is so much color when our eyes closed
it tastes so sweet that our souls are like tongues licking
the sweetest honey on our skins on our whole bodies
we write happiness not in the usual words that they use
the ink is invisible the pen moves not with the hand but
with the heart with the soul
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Prelude
How could I love you more?
I would give up
Even that beauty I have loved too well
That I might love you better.
Alas, how poor the gifts that lovers give
I can but give you of my flesh and strength,
I can but give you these few passing days
And passionate words that, since our speech began,
All lovers whisper in all ladies' ears.
I try to think of some one lovely gift
No lover yet in all the world has found;
I think: If the cold sombre gods
Were hot with love as I am
Could they not endow you with a star
And fix bright youth for ever in your limbs?
Could they not give you all things that I lack?
You should have loved a god; I am but dust.
Yet no god loves as loves this poor frail dust.
poem by Richard Aldington
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Day Is Gone, And All Its Sweets Are Gone
The day is gone, and all its sweets are gone!
Sweet voice, sweet lips, soft hand, and softer breast,
Warm breath, light whisper, tender semitone,
Bright eyes, accomplished shape, and lang'rous waist!
Faded the flower and all its budded charms,
Faded the sight of beauty from my eyes,
Faded the shape of beauty from my arms,
Faded the voice, warmth, whiteness, paradise—
Vanished unseasonably at shut of eve,
When the dusk holiday—or holinight
Of fragrant-curtained love begins to weave
The woof of darkness thick, for hid delight;
But, as I've read love's missal through today,
He'll let me sleep, seeing I fast and pray.
poem by John Keats
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet VIII
Oft as by chance, a little while apart
The pall of empty, loveless hours withdrawn,
Sweet Beauty, opening on the impoverished heart,
Beams like the jewel on the breast of dawn:
Not though high heaven should rend would deeper awe
Fill me than penetrates my spirit thus,
Nor all those signs the Patmian prophet saw
Seem a new heaven and earth so marvelous;
But, clad thenceforth in iridescent dyes,
The fair world glistens, and in after days
The memory of kind lips and laughing eyes
Lives in my step and lightens all my face, --
So they who found the Earthly Paradise
Still breathed, returned, of that sweet, joyful place.
poem by Alan Seeger
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Passing Through
The things he timidly imagined as a schoolboy
are openly revealed to him now. And he walks the streets,
stays out all night, gets involved. And as is right (for our kind of art)
his blood -fresh and hot
offers itself to pleasure.
His body is overcome
by forbidden erotic ecstasy; and his young limbs
give in to it completely.
In this way a simple boy
becomes something worth our looking at, for a moment
he too passes through the exalted World of Poetry,
the young sensualist with blood fresh and hot.
poem by Constantine P. Cavafy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Feeling and Failing To Feel What Is Love
Is that love a fluid, they say it flows out of heart,
Is love a stream, they say it flow form one heart to another,
Is love a beam of light,
That when flashes, makes one blind,
Is that love glue or rasin,
That binds two heart,
Commit them to eat that apple,
Is all that love can do?
They say love is blind,
Is that blind serpent,
That showed beauty of Eden to Eve?
Is love that gas inflates or deflates
Hearts?
Is it the laughing gas or that can act anesthesia against pain
Is love a dreadful disease,
Having medicine in love alone,
No matter whether ugly or beautiful,
cruel or tyrant,
Love has no barrier,
Not national, but international,
Is not rational, is not even irrational!
Love is that having Midas touch,
Turns everything to gold,
Sometimes lovers heart too to useless solid gold,
That gold only shines and glitters,
And heart loses its rythem and beats..
God is love, God is universal,
And only one god exists,
If someone believes in Him,
Then his love becomes universal and exceptionally infinite and universal,
Otherwise both God and love remains only a personal,
full of imperfections and limitations,
God reduces to a limited one,
As that human, limits love and God
No one can say how it attacks,
Is love a clever hunter,
hunts human hearts
With ease,
Is that love cruel and blood thirsty,
Love enters one heart and takes out blood from several at once!
Pages of history are written in red,
Wherever love is misdirected,
May it be love for a person,
May it for love of nation.
May it be love for riches or power,
Love looks like that hunger,
Which eats up love and life of others!
They say God is love, but when it enters human heart,
Most of the time acts like demon!
Love is not blind, but the heart may become blind in the blaze of that light!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fresh Blood
All the neighbours never see me
But they wonder why I walk around at night
He gets hungry - I go hunting
In the moonlit streets
For somebody that's right
Fresh blood, a sanguinary feast Is all he's living for
And he craves it more and more
Showgirls, businessmen in suits in the midnight rain
If they walk alone are never seen again
In the paper, seems a florist
Found in Lincoln Park, died of some anemia
No one raped her, poor Doloris
Just detained her and drained her on the spot
Fresh blood, a sanguinary feast
Is all he's living for
And he craves it more and more
Old men, ladies of the night walking in the rain
If they walk alone are never seen again
Fresh blood it goes through me, flows through me
Fresh blood inside of me, cry to me
Fresh blood it goes through me, flows through me
Fresh blood inside of me, cry to me
No one calls and no one visits
We're like a couplet out of Desolation Row
We don't want them to want to know us
'Cause when they do, they get a little bit too close
Fresh blood, a sanguinary feast is all I'm living for
And I crave it more and more
Bad girls, cops on the beat in the midnight rain
If they're out alone, are never seen again
Fresh blood it goes through me, flows through me
Fresh blood inside of me, cry to me
Fresh blood it goes through me, flows through me
Fresh blood inside of me, cry to me
Fresh blood it goes through me, flows through me
Fresh blood inside of me, cry to me
Fresh blood it goes through me, flows through me
Fresh blood inside of me, cry to me
Fresh blood it goes through me, flows through me
Fresh blood inside of me, cry to me, cry to me
Fresh blood it goes through me, flows through me
Fresh blood inside of me, cry to me, cry to me
song performed by by Alice Cooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fresh blood (Lyrics)
All the neighbours never see me
But they wonder why I walk around at night
he gets hungry - I go hunting
In the moonlit streets
For somebody that's right
Fresh blood, a sanguinary feast
Is all he's living for
And he craves it more and more
Showgirls, businessmen in suits in the midnight rain
If they walk alone are never seen again
In the paper, seems a florist
Found in Lincoln Park, died of some anemia
No one raped her, poor Doloris,
Just detained her and drained her on the spot
Fresh blood, a sanguinary feast
Is all he's living for
And he craves it more and more
Old men, ladies of the night walking in the rain
If they walk alone are never seen again
Fresh blood it goes through me, flows through me
Fresh blood inside of me, cry to me
Fresh blood it goes through me, flows through me
Fresh blood inside of me, cry to me
No one calls and no one visits
We're like a couplet out of Desolation Row
We don't want them to want to know us
'Cause when they do, they get a little bit too close
Fresh blood, a sanguinary feast is all I'm living for
and I crave it more and more
Bad girls, cops on the beat in the midnight rain
If they're out alone, are never seen again
Fresh blood it goes through me, flows through me
Fresh blood inside of me, cry to me
Fresh blood it goes through me, flows through me
Fresh blood inside of me, cry to me
Fresh blood it goes through me, flows through me
Fresh blood inside of me, cry to me
Fresh blood it goes through me, flows through me
Fresh blood inside of me, cry to me
Fresh blood it goes through me, flows through me
Fresh blood inside of me, cry to me, cry to me
Fresh blood it goes through me, flows through me
Fresh blood inside of me, cry to me, cry to me
poem by Satan's Sibling
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cradle Song
Sleep, sleep, beauty bright,
Dreaming in the joys of night;
Sleep, sleep; in thy sleep
Little sorrows sit and weep.
Sweet babe, in thy face
Soft desires I can trace,
Secret joys and secret smiles,
Little pretty infant wiles.
As thy softest limbs I feel
Smiles as of the morning steal
O'er thy cheek, and o'er thy breast
Where thy little heart doth rest.
O the cunning wiles that creep
In thy little heart asleep!
When thy little heart doth wake,
Then the dreadful night shall break.
poem by William Blake
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Baby's Breath
“It’s not flesh and blood, but heart which makes us fathers and sons” Johann von Schiller
Caressing soft blanket
Warmth spreads
Beneath her breast
Baby’s breath
With tender touches
Rocking gently
Joy spills tears
Baby’s breath
Beneath her chest
Is heaven scent
Window lace drawn
Her eyes glitter
Baby’s breath
Against her neck
In rhyme with hearts together
Nightingale sings
Crescent moon shinning
Baby’s breath
Beneath her chest
In her arms asleep
It’s not flesh and blood, but heart which makes us mother & babe.
(June 2011)
poem by Jo Ann Zsilavetz
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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