Master Tragedy
Out of the humid bonds entombing my shallow frame,
Stirs the mute memory of a former fame,
From beneath the tumbling leaves of a child's game,
Are exhaled the ethereal remains of my name.
Above the hollow echo of a rhythmic persistence,
Endures the faint glow of humane resistance,
From beneath the ages of the outworn distance,
Struggles the enshrouded beam of a forsaken brilliance.
Unseen behind the tremors of a peaceful symphony,
Is harbored the quiet vibrancy of a living melody,
Quickening into the hallow whisper of a forsworn fury,
Restoring the unshakable faith of a stillborn clarity.
Amid the shattered pieces of an unshared thought,
Slumber the sole fragments of a war well fought,
Poured into the beginnings of emotions unwrought,
The master tragedy spoken between 'is' and 'ought'.
poem by Jeremy Cahoon
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Related quotes
Quieta Ne Movete II
IF one should wake one's frozen faith
In sunlight of her radiant eyes,
Bid it forget its dream of death,
In this new dream of Paradise,
Bid it forget the long, slow pain,
The agony when, all in vain,
It fought for life, and how one swore,
Once cold, it should not waken more;
If hope one buried long ago
Should thrill beneath those smiles of hers,
Should in one's sere life stir and grow,
As in brown woods the young spring stirs;
If, breaking icy bonds of grief,
One's soul should start to bud and leaf,
It might forget in that springtide
How last year's leaves fell off and died.
If from warm faith and hope set high
A lovely living child was born,
With lips more pure than starlit sky,
And eyes as clear as summer morn,
Child-love might grow till one forgot
Old love, that was and now is not--
Forgot that far-off time of tears,
And all these desolated years.
And yet of faith, hope, love, one knows
So well what end the years will make,
If one should dig beneath Time's snows
And wake them now for her sweet sake.
New life may mean new joy; but then,
What lives again may die again,
And to that second death there may
Be no new resurrection-day.
poem by Edith Nesbit
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Deep Inside Of Me
Of midday light and hues of splendor,
My heart has never known,
Of the laughs of men and the warmth of another,
I ponder untouched on the silent throne.
Of the glory of the beloved's chatter,
My ears have never heard,
Of the witless symphony of melodic pleasure,
My mind lies implacably unstirred.
Of the union of soul through a single glance,
My eyes have never perceived,
Of the unspoken promise of a single chance,
The father of lies was deceived.
Of the twinkling spark of the fabled lore,
My lips have never dreamed,
Of the the seeking hand of peace from war,
I fall as the angel unredeemed.
Beneath the outcast slivers of a far gone memory,
Above the tempestuous remains of the volcanic tragedy,
Slumbers the broken star of the misjudged enemy,
Weeping as the wronged child of a forsaken harmony,
Deep inside of me.
poem by Jeremy Cahoon
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Humanity In Tragedy - Haiti - Earthquake-January 2010
Sadness weighs heavily upon my heart,
Human tragedy, devastating loss of life;
A struggling nation where poverty is an epidemic,
They faced the wrath of nature yet again.
Haiti, land of sunshine and misery,
Where the rich thrive, and the poor perish.
Mother Earth drew a deep breath,
And as she exhaled, a shuddering groan
Shook all that lay against her bosom.
There was no anger in her deed.
She did not intend to destroy.
Calamity was beyond her control.
With the very earth shaking beneath their feet,
There was nowhere to run.
Palaces and shanties alike reduced to rubble,
Entombing those who could not escape.
Cries from beneath mountains of stone,
Echo through the streets.
Helpless, they weep for those they cannot reach.
Battered and beaten, they are defeated.
They hold the loved ones they can,
And grieve for those that are lost.
Now the wealthy and poor are united at last,
For there is no discrimination when catastrophe strikes.
But out of the destruction, hope will rise,
Like the brilliant sunshine that warms
Their beloved country.
Nations will join together to assist them.
For we hear their cries, and our hearts weep,
We will take their hands and hold them tightly,
Comfort them, and lift them from the dust.
Sometimes I question,
Whether compassion for humanity still exists,
Then at times like this, I see it
In all its splendour!
And my faith is restored once more.
poem by Annabel Sheila
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Son (Liam)
Quiet tenderness
Tranquil soul
Stone still
Stone thought
A library of thought in his
Gentle eyes
Beneath an ocean roils
Beneath an epic is forged
Beneath the hero wanders
Waits with quiet masks
And worlds to conquer
poem by Guillermo Veloso
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Underneath The Stars
When the closed eyed dawn
Breaks the silence
Of the still dark nights
Ceaseless argument
When restless skies move unseen
Beneath the curtain
Each ruin a dream
Unshed
Unseen
And underneath
A pillow of stars
Still waits
To illminate
The moons unshared secret
Come walk with me beneath the lamplight
And leave your fingerprint
Upon my heart
And let the rivers rippling beat
Prepare to dance
yvette m smith dec 08
poem by Yvette Smith
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The Turtle In Us...
a rabbit never
shames a
turtle,
for distance
is not
a tragedy,
it is the patient
persistence
that
wins,
it is not in fact
wisdom
neither speed
nor
perfect
frame
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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So Quiet In Here
Foghorns blowing in the night
Salt sea air in the morning breeze
Driving cars all along the coastline
This must be what its all about
Oh this must be what its all about
This must be what paradise is like
So quiet in here, so peaceful in here
So quiet in here, so peaceful in here
The warm look of radiance on your face
And your heart beating close to mine
And the evening fading in the candle glow
This must be what its all about
Oh this must be what its all about
This must be what paradise is like
So quiet in here. so peaceful in here
So quiet in here, yeah, so peaceful in here
All my struggling in the world
And so many dreams that dont come true
Step back, put it all away
It dont matter, it dont matter anymore
Oh this must be what paradise is like
This must be what paradise is like
Its so quiet in here, so peaceful in here
Its so quiet in here, so peaceful in here
A glass of wine with some friends
Talking into the wee hours of the dawn
Sit back and relax your mind
This must be, this must be, what its all about
This must be what paradise is like
Oh this must be what paradise is like
So quiet in here, so peaceful in here
So quiet in here, so peaceful in here
Big ships out in the night
And were floating across the waves
Sailing for some other shore
Where we can be what we wanna be
Oh this must be what paradise is like
This must be what paradise is like
Baby its so quiet in here, so peaceful in here
So quiet in here, so peaceful in here
So quiet in here, so peaceful in here
So quiet in here, you can hear, its so quiet
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hollow
You seek fame.
And a name.
With no integrity...
Or dignity with identity attached!
To support and frame your claims.
Keeping your aim and goals unmatched.
Your soul becomes weak.
And shallow success,
Loses its meaning.
A harvest of a sowing,
Has been reaped!
You feel defeated.
Although you may have achieved,
What others believe.
The emptiness felt...
Leaves you depleted.
Hollow!
With that shallowness,
Sought.
But definitely unsatisfying.
'Hollow? '
That depends.
How low are you?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Echo
Echo, echo...
We come, we go-woah
No I don't want to be just another
Echo, echo...
Everywhere I go
There's something I really need
Everyone I know
Is someone I want to be
Even though
I don't really know me
I better pick it up
Before I let it slip away
I better stick it out
Before I take another day
Into mouth
Everything I say fades out
Echo, echo...
We come, we go-woah
No I don't want to be just another
Echo, echo...
Can I open up your eyes?
Only when the clouds break?
Can I feel the light?
Even though the world shakes
Every night,
You're my quiet satellite
Can I hold you close?
Do her out of focus
And everything I know
I don't even know this
It all falls through
I'm here and I hear you
Echo, echo...
We come, we go-woah
No I don't want to be just another
Echo, echo...
Do you hear me?
Do you hear me?
Cause I need to, just to reach you
Do you hear me?
Coming clearly?
Am I hollow?
Just an echo
Echo, echo...
We come, we go-woah
No I don't want to be just another
Echo, echo...
Echo, echo...
We come, we go-woah
No I don't want to be just another
Echo, echo...
song performed by by Vertical Horizon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lamplight Symphony
On a winter's night, stars are cold and bright in the sky,
The slumber of the earth is pure and deep
From a distant wood, drifts the echo of a beast
The old man stirs and wakens in the night
He stands before his window gazing at the grave
Forgotten dreams are flashing through his weary mind
And though his life is empty, he pretends that she's still there
With hunger in his soul, he yearns for life and love gone by,
With memories his one and only joy
All he has to give, he would give to bring back the life,
And raise the one who lies beneath the snow
He lights a lamp and looks at pictures of the past
The faces of their youth still glow with new-found love,
But the picture's faded, and time has stolen youth away
With a spoken word that he thought he heard from her lips,
He felt another presence in the room,
He was filled with fear but filled with joy he arose
And turned to face the image that he knew
She stood before him and her hand reached out for his
A peaceful light shone in her eyes
She said she'd come to soothe him, and someday they'd be as one
She began to fade and her image disappeared,
So he was left alone to face the night,
Never in his life, had he been so held in awe,
As he faced the apparition of his wife
He stood before the window gazing at the grave,
And with a lightened heart he saw the first of dawn,
He knew that she was waiting, that someday they'd be as one
song performed by by Kansas
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Excerpt From Lamplight Symphony
On a winter's night, stars are cold and bright in the sky,
The slumber of the earth is pure and deep
From a distant wood, drifts the echo of a beast
The old man stirs and wakens in the night
He stands before his window gazing at the grave
Forgotten dreams are flashing through his weary mind
And though his life is empty, he pretends that she's still there
With hunger in his soul, he yearns for life and love gone by,
With memories his one and only joy
All he has to give, he would give to bring back the life,
And raise the one who lies beneath the snow
He lights a lamp and looks at pictures of the past
The faces of their youth still glow with new-found love,
But the picture's faded, and time has stolen youth away
With a spoken word that he thought he heard from her lips,
He felt another presence in the room,
He was filled with fear but filled with joy he arose
And turned to face the image that he knew
She stood before him and her hand reached out for his
A peaceful light shone in her eyes
She said she'd come to soothe him, and someday they'd be as one
She began to fade and her image disappeared,
So he was left alone to face the night,
Never in his life, had he been so held in awe,
As he faced the apparition of his wife
He stood before the window gazing at the grave,
And with a lightened heart he saw the first of dawn,
He knew that she was waiting, that someday they'd be as one
song performed by by Kansas
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Abandoned Train Station Near Grandmother's Grave
.
for Lida Harris
Then died there the rose beside the house of tin.
The track bore no train for years.
Weeds traveled tendriled and
yellow rooted between trestles.
Broken vessels whistled through
shattered teeth of glass.
Only wind and no rusted train passed.
Though the scene bears dislocation,
though the brain remembers station and motion
of steam engine and iron wheel rotation
the places of old gone passing
bear no malice toward stillness.
All around mute remains remind the
occasional passer of former days;
an old snuff tin crumbled in a reverent hand
longs for the woman grasping then,
holds sweet dust beneath her tongue
as the land must hold her now where is
no whisper but sleep beyond sleep.
Weeds to the eye are sad between rails
but listening to their green and yellow belles
the rightness of their swaying displaces all sorrow.
Their distance is a distance one cannot know
but only borrow in imagination by extension
of miles, their reach is ours then, translated
green and longing, their leaves throng the
evening air, in silent clamor fling down seed
to summer's blundering prayer.
poem by Warren Falcon
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The age of days
A warm Glare cuts absence
Prejudice the tides course
Servitudes commotion
Schedules Argument subsides
The fluid rumble ends
gloaming declines to obscurity
Beam the Specter of dreams liberty
Sole Interrupter of ages persistence
Forest Sprite
There was a little fairy
Sat beneath a tree -
Humming to her tiny self
A haunting melody;
Just a little tinkle
Was all that I could hear
Floating on the evening breeze
High and crystal clear;
Surrounded by a rainbow,
Sparkles lit the air -
Tiny wings did flutter
Sprinkling gold dust in her hair;
A tiny little forest sprite
Had slipped the bonds of space,
Perhaps a mere imagined thought
Had brought her to this place;
How sweet the sound she echoed
Within this forest spot -
Though I had never seen a sprite
Her image now I caught;
This tiny little fairy
Sat beneath a tree -
Humming to her tiny self
A haunting melody.
Sinister Lullaby
A Sinister Lullaby
By: Adam M. Snow
A melody flowing caressing the nightly air,
its soothing sound echoes a flair.
It sprung from the lips of a maiden aloft;
the angelic song, sung ever so soft.
This peaceful lullaby dares be at ease;
it is peace and harmony, this song decrees.
I dare not wake from this melody slumber,
this rest entrance me to encumber.
The melody continues through the night,
caressing the angelic lunar light.
It steals my breath, my soul, my heart;
it speaks a lore to impart.
It torments my dream, my self, my being;
to hear this earthly angel singing.
I cannot wake from this melody trance;
darkness consumes as the angel dance.
I cannot wake from this grimful hollow;
an ethereal silence, who fears to follow.
All life trembles at her voice,
leaving all to surrender, not by choice.
Her melody sways forevermore,
stealing the souls for many yore.
poem by Adam M. Snow
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A Memory Shall Flow
Into a melody, a memory shall flow
Guided by an echo, and, ever so slow
O're to the mountains, t'is dancing on a breeze
T'is the echo laughing with the trees.
Into the sky to the path of the unknown
A great many memories, o're the miles have flown
Remember an echo has a memory in tow
T'is yours for the picking, t'is yours to show.
Into an echo conducting its humble chores
When to look upon a memory is completely yours
Building a mountain of memories an echo's test
To pick from a tree, the memories I like best.
poem by M. Rene Riel
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We The Mob Obscene
Let your hair down - Step outside
Open your eyes to the song of the world
O wonder unsung
We the young are restless
Found in chaotic distress - fondling the memory of messy scenes
We the mob obscene
We the kings unseen
Suckling upon the mammary of life's lost caress.
We who know the way to grow beneath a blanket snow.
This place was never meant for us
Where is the land we were promised?
Where is the voice who promised us?
I could cry in thinking - Some die in sinking.
My finger on the crimson trigger
My figure of a diamond digger
It is I who bears the Christ child across the ocean of eternity
It is I who have seen all that is unseen in the flare of emotions raging.
poem by David Lacey
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Remains Unseen
The hate that tears at my brain
Remains unseen to you
The self loathing and the pain
I'm swinging at the end of my rope,
If you only knew
I am lost without a hope,
There's nothing I can do
Oh.
I don't want to live this day
It's getting harder every day,
To face what I've become
The fear of what I have become
Remains unseen to you
A heart that's just gone numb
Remains unseen to you
I just want to close my eyes
And pretend this isn't true
Throw my hands up to the skies
There's nothing I can do
Oh.
This feeling of helplessness
And despair remains unseen to you
It's the cross that I must bear,
But it remains unseen to you
I dwell in a twisted reality of hate,
Remains unseen to you
Ugly thoughts, you cannot relate,
So I'll remain unseen to you
song performed by by Unseen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We Tread Where Demons Lay Their Dead
Watch the river pass on by
Listen as the children cry
The dream has crumbled
Tumbling down the dream has crumbled
Faint echo’s of the memory gather in the groves of my mindscape
The time has come for the solar god to rise.
Apollo, phoenix from the ashes.
I have cast in my folly all that lay sacred to me.
The Dragon’s art enriddled, the art of art revealed.
The secret lay lost to the memory of forgetting.
Our journey has changed course
The winds! The winds have turned against our favour.
Overwhelmed by an addiction breeding,
Defenceless upon my knees
I refuse to serve you now
I would rather lay low in shallow grave.
The journey
The journey engulfing.
Open fields the senses yield
Alive and well I am she cried.
She laid down to kiss the sky
I will never die she sighed
As a tear dropped from her eye.
I have laid to waste the fantasy of evolving.
New friends and open smiles
Close me in your while.
Rise now to know
The kiss of bliss is morning snow.
His mistress distressed – undressed for her pay
Pass on by to sanctuary
I will find you there.
We set sail tomorrow for ports unknown.
The sea queen – slow dreamer
Movement of the earth
The city swells beneath our feet
poem by David Lacey
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The Memory
Again, the pieces of my memory,
Have reunited to create this untold story,
Reflective beams of brilliant glory,
Paint the words that bloom from the mists of allegory.
The sunlight dances on the eve of January,
The mystical shafts as slivers of Winter,
Fade into the fields of the soothing whisper,
Above the starry snow strewn sanctuary.
The night is light, the hearts are merry,
The soft-spoken coos of moonlight tarry,
Beyond the adoring gaze of auroras fairy,
The souls embrace the depths of their aerie.
The lustrous delight of the warmth of the end,
Exhale sweet perfumes of the blissful melody,
Joy dances among the hearts of the visitor and friend,
As all are united together in the purpose and journey.
A world to come, another to cease,
Faith mingles in the Time of one history,
Lost in a word, the ignorant peace,
In pieces above, the divine mingles in Beauty,
The life of the moment, the breath of release,
All is one, in the night, in the path of eternity.
Remember the night,
Bask in the innocence and serenity,
The decision was right,
Under the haze of Winter's finality,
Your gaze was in sight,
We drank in the last, the last of the story,
I was married your knight,
Do not forget the joy of eternity,
For our love was our might,
I never lost the pieces of memory,
On the eve of the final night,
That drew you towards me,
We were promised the light,
In the arms of our journey,
Our purpose fulfilled, we awaited destiny,
Unbound into flight,
We flew off through infinity.
The memory sealed,
In the whisper of Winter,
The moonlight descended,
And hope ever did linger,
When we were befriended,
By the angelic figure,
The one that you are,
That I am,
That brought us together,
To rest in the Beauty,
Of our created slumber,
For all else did fall,
On Winter's eve of January,
All cast out forever,
In the nihilistic reality,
Forever lost, Forever gone,
But for us, my love;
Who live in the Memory.
poem by Jeremy Cahoon
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