The Cardinal And His Lady
The redbird is the core of fire at the heart of by still living;
And his little lady is the soft ashes covering the half-seen embers."
poem by Karle Wilson Baker
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Burning Embers
Fly through the glass of a window pane
fall through the sky feeling the rain
Walk on broken glass your tell-tale heart
Look through the bars of a dirty jail cell
soar to heaven dive to hell
Listen to your tell-tale heart
Setting fires in the ghost twilight
we see you dress we bolt with fright
You see an apparition disappear
Jump to the table, jump up the stairs
stand on the rooftop, looking out through the air
Walk on broken glass your tell-tale heart
Lenore, am I dreaming
How can death keep us apart, mmmm..
Lenore, I see you burning
And I'd walk on burning embers
walk on burning embers
Walk on burning embers your tell-tale heart
Walk on burning embers
walk on burning embers
Walk on burning embers your tell-tale heart
Walk on burning embers
walk on burning embers
Walk on burning embers your tell-tale heart
Heart
heart
Heart
heart
Walk on burning embers
walk on burning embers
Walk on burning embers your tell-tale heart
your tell-tale heart
Walk on burning embers
walk on burning embers
Walk on burning embers your tell-tale heart
Walk on burning embers
walk on burning embers
Walk on burning embers your tell-tale heart
Walk on burning embers
walk on burning embers
Walk on burning embers your tell-tale heart
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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At Night
Summer is not quite fulfilled
until a campfire night
Though my hair is filled with
ashes and smoke
and quite a nasty smell.
I wonder how my fire’s doing
I left it all alone
The embers’ heat were fading
into ashes like my soul.
My heart once beat a lovely tune
‘Love’ it sang and played.
But reality has struck me hard
and I do not feel the same.
poem by D.M.L. Catseye
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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From the holy fire that should never die (rondine)
From the holy fire that should never die
men were send to sabotage, maim and kill
to poison, plant landmines with a deadly skill
until flaming rockets fell out of the sky,
rising up did burning wood and ashes fly
that made the glowing embers move and spill
from the holy fire.
Armed soldiers were not just driving by,
armoured cars came roaring over the hill,
screaming death until everything was still
burnt out did the last old white embers lie,
from the holy fire.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Seance
"The spirits do not like the light,"
The medium said, and turned the switch;
The little lady on my right
Clutched at my hand with nervous twitch.
(She seemed to be a pretty bitch.)
The moustached women on my left,
With spirits on hr heavy breath,
Lasciviously leaned her heft
On me as one who languisheth.
The sordid room was still as death.
"A shape I see," the medium cried,
"Whose face and name I do not know . . ."
"'Tis Robert service," soft replied
A voice - "I passed a month ago,
And I've come back to let you know.
"The Other Side is gay and bright;
We are so happy there and free,
And Dan McGrew I oft recite,
And follow up with Sam McGee . . .
But now excuse me, I must flee."
The fat dame leaned to get my ear,
(Her breast was soft as feather bed.)
"I love his verses; oh dear, dear,
I didn't know that he was dead."
"No more did I," I sourly said.
The little lady grabbed me hard;
(She looked to me a "yesful" dear.)
Said she: "Don't you adore the Bard?"
Said I: "Before he fades, I fear
I'd like to kick his astral rear."
So then I bravely broke away
From spooks and ectoplasic gauze.
Yet in the brazen light of day
I had to pinch myself because
Really! I wondered if I was.
poem by Robert William Service
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Immortality In Thee
Love is my fire, which burns to ash
And with its ash I write thy name
On thy heart, on thy heart of fame
So love does not die, but seep in thee
And thou realize what thee mean to me.
Thy meaning is to simply be
The lady thou art, the lady I see
With my soul's earnest eye
And with my hearts tender sigh
In mine essence thine heart shall never die
My love is immortal, it shall not perish
And in natures beauty it will cherish
All loves to be all to loves to come
And with my loves soft drum, I beat
I sing, to thy souls in nature.. I sing
In the sun's incandescent light
In the cadence of her ocean's waves
In the mist drenched valleys of her hills
In the rich colorful petals of fragile flowers
In the aroma of her strange spices
In the evanescence of her moon
In the beauty of her earthly souls
In sympathy, forgiveness, humanity
In the sensitivity of thine heart!
From the fire of dying love
With its ashes, I give,
To thou to keep, in thine heart hidden deep.
My ashes so seep….
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Ashes
(lonnie wilson/chris waters/charlotte wilson)
Ashes
Hes nothing but ashes
No feelings have lasted
No love remains
Ashes
Thats all that our past is
Hes nothing but ashes
From a cold old flame
I saw your face when
He waltzed in here
But those old embers
Havent burned for years
The light thats shining
In my eyes
Is for the one that
Im with tonight
Ashes
Hes nothing but ashes
No feelings have lasted
No love remains
Ashes
Thats all that our past is
Hes nothing but ashes
From a cold old flame
No I dont blame you
For having some doubts
But when he left me
That fire burned out
So dont be thinking
Theres still a spark
cause he could never
Tear us apart
Ashes
Hes nothing but ashes
No feelings have lasted
No love remains
Ashes
Thats all that our past is
Hes nothing but ashes
From a cold old flame
Hes nothing but ashes
From a cold old flame
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song performed by by Martina Mcbride
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Gift
She paces
By his side
On a quiet street,
Leafy and wide.
The evening air is balmy
And a golden half moon
Of August
Hangs high
In the sky.
"How beautiful is the Moon",
She says,
"Brighter than in June.
"A pity it is not full tonight".
"You know",
He tells her smiling,
"This thing may sound
Really puzzling,
But,
The part missing
From the Moon,
Is actually hidden
In a lagoon.
Nevertheless,
I offer it to you as a gift,
Before the scene
Would alter and shift,
And for good measure,
Fortune and luck,
I will pluck
For you
The other half, too,
So that you will possess
And own quite soon
The complete moon".
"Oh, no", she says,
"I don't want the moon,
Neither half,
Nor the whole of it,
I don't want it soon
Nor in next June.
Not even a small part.
Just give me, instead,
Your uncut heart".
poem by Paul Hartal
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Two Schools
I put my heart to school
In the world, where men grow wise,
"Go out," I said, "and learn the rule;
Come back when you win a prize."
My heart came back again:
"Now where is the prize?" I cried. ----
"The rule was false, and the prize was pain,
And the teacher's name was Pride."
I put my heart to school
In the woods, where veeries sing,
And brooks run cool and clear;
In the fields, where wild flowers spring,
And the blue of heaven bends near.
"Go out," I said: "you are half a fool,
But perhaps they can teach you here."
"And why do you stay so long,
My heart, and where do you roam?"
The answer came with a laugh and a song, ---
"I find this school is home."
poem by Henry Van Dyke
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Just A Kiss
Hold me close
So close.
My bosom
Heaves breathlessly
Hard
Against the thuds of your heart.
The nape of my neck,
Immobile,
For your grip
Holds it
A cage of feathers,
Tight…
and locked lie
our gazes,
your breath
mirroring mine.
My lips swollen,
Bruised,
Your taste a bitter sweet
Lingering in my mouth
Way past the moonless night.
Your tongue igniting
The deepest of my desires
And in cold fire
Burns "you" and "me"
Into ashes of" us".
My nape,
Still immobile,
In that feather grip
Of your hands
And all you asked for was
Just
"A kiss."
poem by Anjali Kakati
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Ashes
it took ashes...
for me to draw
a picture of your living
in black and white...
yet containing all
the colors of your being...
it took ashes...
for me to lay down
all my wants and desires,
and the fear of losing you...
it took ashes...
for me to quit pretending
that this kingdom
is invincible...
and this island will remain...
it took ashes...
for me to taste
death's lips and
still surrender to
each naked tick of living...
it took ashes...
for me to be
honest with myself...
to let go of the reins,
and stand free
on the shore of tomorrow!
it took ashes...
poem by Eric Cockrell
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The ABC
'Twas midnight in the schoolroom
And every desk was shut
When suddenly from the alphabet
Was heard a loud "Tut-Tut!"
Said A to B, "I don't like C;
His manners are a lack.
For all I ever see of C
Is a semi-circular back!"
"I disagree," said D to B,
"I've never found C so.
From where I stand he seems to be
An uncompleted O."
C was vexed, "I'm much perplexed,
You criticise my shape.
I'm made like that, to help spell Cat
And Cow and Cool and Cape."
"He's right" said E; said F, "Whoopee!"
Said G, "'Ip, 'Ip, 'ooray!"
"You're dropping me," roared H to G.
"Don't do it please I pray."
"Out of my way," LL said to K.
"I'll make poor I look ILL."
To stop this stunt J stood in front,
And presto! ILL was JILL.
"U know," said V, "that W
Is twice the age of me.
For as a Roman V is five
I'm half as young as he."
X and Y yawned sleepily,
"Look at the time!" they said.
"Let's all get off to beddy byes."
They did, then "Z-z-z."
poem by Spike Milligan
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The foot and mouth crisis 2001
A clue: "Memitim" 2 down,5 across, DEATH...
Another farmer holds his "breath"
His crossword puzzle now solved,
As he sits by the open fire resolved.
Firebrats shimmer like melting
Sparks through grates, between falling,
Slivering, among, the black slates.
Like silver ashen; phosphates!
Covering that hearths entirety,
They too show there's no need for "piety"
As the future ghosts of the living; burn.
His world is an up-turned urn.
Listing he hears the cries of the last dying ewe.
Whilst angels of death beyond; "view"
Descend across each patchwork acre…
He himself too! screams at his maker.
Prier on prier, prayer on prayer!
Foot and mouth each neighboring "acre"
Burned black in the gasoline air…
Each man alone dies by his plowshare.
As more firebrats, recurred…
Another flock: another herd
Burned; like unguided lost souls
Stacked kindling in piled coals.
poem by Mark Heathcote
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My Lady
Like putting forth upon a sea
On which the moonbeams shimmer,
Where reefs and unknown perils be
To wreck, yea, wreck one utterly,
It were to love you, lady fair,
In whose black braids of billowy hair
The misty moonstones glimmer.
Oh, misty moonstone-coloured eye,
Latticed behind long lashes,
Within whose clouded orbs there lies,
Like lightning in the sleeping skies,
A spark to kindle and ignite,
And set a fire of love alight
To burn one's heart to ashes.
I will not put forth on this deep
Of perilous emotion;
No, though your hands be soft as sleep,
They shall not have my heart to keep,
Nor draw it to your fatal sphere.
Lady, you are as much to fear
As is the fickle ocean.
poem by Mathilde Blind
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How Deep Is Your Love?
Superficial, or sacrificial?
Secular, or the supernatural?
How deep is your love?
Would you give up quality of life?
Or give up life itself?
To what do we let go?
To what do we hold on?
People or objects?
How far do we go,
Before we move on?
To our breaking point,
Or until we have proven it.
Hold on to resentment,
Let go of another.
Prove our point, or to prove love.
Beauty is only skin deep.
But beautiful is at the core.
The spirit lives forever.
It endures all.
Our essence, our core, is love itself.
Given by God, as He lives inside of us.
He is buried deep,
Surrounded by lies.
Lies we have bought in a cold cruel world.
A world of shallow love.
Love of self, at the cost of another.
She walked away,
He waited.
She asked, "Why when you had me you did not want me, "
"But now I am gone, and you will fight? "
"You have changed, but it is too late."
"For I have found another."
The man replied, "The answer is simple."
"Why is it, you have me now and do not want me? "
"I have proven the truth of my love."
"I have endured a thousand deaths."
"I have risen each time."
"To become love itself."
"Not for me, but for you."
"Affection is shown, but love is assumed."
"To the superficial, love is all show."
"To the sacrificial, love is the show."
"I can tell you I love you,
"But the words have no substance."
"They disappear in thin air."
"Love is patient."
"Love as a feeling, will come and go."
"Feelings are impatient."
"It is truth that never changes."
"And love, that is true, will endure all."
"As it has since the beginning of time."
"Not as defined by society."
"But as defined by the creator and sustainer."
"It is only once the feelings have broken the heart, the holder of the feelings."
"That the beholder is freed."
"To show the love that will never be broken."
"Love that is true."
poem by Ryan Lee Morris
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A new age for women
"A new age for women"
Ye who preach the sermon
"A new age for women has dawned"
Or perhaps fresh propaganda spawned
I'm sorry to say what I see
Is not the fruit of life's tree
No, this screaming on the corner
Torn and white
‘half price abortion for women's day"
Come to sell your soul
Only half price you'll pay
About the mission if the new age
Has come to the this
Your idea of what is meant to be
Is inches short of bliss
If Yeats and Eve both had apples
Can't Adam share with Maya a
Or at least with one of us
The women in your circle
The lady in the bus
Look around women bent low
But still painting their pride
No matter how you shame us
We'll take it in our stride!
Grown-Up Talk
Half-Past-Six and I were talking
In a very grown-up way;
We had got so tired with running
That we did not want to play.
"How do babies come, I wonder,"
He said, looking at the sky,
"Does God mix the things together
An' just make it-like a pie?"
I was really not quite certain,
But it sounded very nice;
It was all that we could think of,
Besides a book said "sugar and spice."
Half-Past-Six said--He's so clever--
Cleverer than me, I mean...
"I suppose God makes the black ones
When the saucepan isn't clean."
poem by Katherine Mansfield
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The Australian Slanguage
"Tis the everyday Australian
Has a language of his own,
Has a language, or a slanguage,
Which can simply stand alone.
And a "dickon pitch to kid us"
Is a synonym for "lie",
And to "nark it" means to stop it,
And to "nit it" means to fly.
And a bosom friend's a "cobber,"
And a horse a "prad" or "moke,"
While a casual acquaintance
Is a "joker" or a "bloke."
And his lady-love's his "donah"
or his "clinah" or his "tart"
Or his "little bit o' muslin,"
As it used to be his "bart."
And his naming of the coinage
Is a mystery to some,
With his "quid" and "half-a-caser"
And his "deener" and his "scrum".
And a "tin-back" is a party
Who's remarkable for luck,
And his food is called his "tucker"
Or his "panem" or his "chuck".
A policeman is a "johnny"
Or a "copman" or a "trap",
And a thing obtained on credit
Is invariably "strap".
A conviction"s known as "trouble",
And a gaol is called a "jug",
And a sharper is a "spieler"
And a simpleton's a "tug".
If he hits a man in fighting
That is what he calls a "plug",
If he borrows money from you
He will say he "bit your lug."
And to "shake it" is to steal it,
And to "strike it" is to beg;
And a jest is "poking borac",
And a jester "pulls your leg".
Things are "cronk" when they go wrongly
In the language of the "push",
But when things go as he wants 'em
He declares it is "all cush".
When he's bright he's got a "napper",
And he's "ratty" when he's daft,
And when looking for employment
He is "out o' blooming graft".
And his clothes he calls his "clobber"
Or his "togs", but what of that
When a "castor" or a "kady"
Is the name he gives his hat!
And our undiluted English
Is a fad to which we cling,
But the great Australian slanguage
Is a truly awful thing!
poem by William Thomas Goodge
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As the kindled fire consumes the fuel, so in the flame of wisdom the embers of action are burnt to ashes.
Ch 01 Manner of Kings Story 26
It is narrated that a tyrant who purchased wood from dervishes forcibly gave it away to rich -people gratuitously. A pious man passing near said:
"Thou art a snake, stingest whom thou beholdest,
Or an owl; wherever thou sittest thou destroyest.
Although thy oppression may pass among us
It cannot pass with the Lord who knows all secrets.
Oppress not the denizens of the earth
That their supplications may not pass to heaven."
The tyrant, being displeased with these words, got angry and took no notice of him until one night, when fire from the kitchen fell into the store of his wood and burnt all he possessed - transferring him from his soft bed to a hot mound of ashes - the same pious man happened again to pass and to hear him saying to his friends: "I do not know whence this fire has fallen into my house." replied: "From the smoke of the hearts of dervishes."
Beware of the smoke of internal wounds
Because at last an internal wound will break out.
Forbear to uproot one heart as long as thou canst
Because one sigh may uproot a world.
Upon the diadem of Kaikhosru the following piece was inscribed:
For how many years and long lives
Will the people walk over my head on the ground?
As from hand to hand the kingdom came to us
So it will also go to other hands.
Brimstone... ' (or A Cryptic-Cremation)
Ashes to Ashes
Dust to Dust
Flesh and Blood
Wood and Mud
Sun and Moon
Craters and Crust
Flames to Ashes
Smoke to Dust
Ape and Man
Heart and Brain
Glass and Sand
Abel and Cain
Spend this Space
On this Earth
Cutting Down
Another’s Worth
So Much Hate
On World and Planet
Trying to Paint
And Stain Pearls and Granite
‘Til, Ashes to Ashes
Dust to Dust
Stop Thinking, ’ Iron Them ’
Start Thinking, ‘ Wash Us ’
Fire On Mountain
Flows Volcanic Ash
Fire and Sand
Equals House of Glass
Dirt On Fire
Smother ‘Fore Long
And Fire and Rock
Equals Brimstone
poem by MoonBee Canady
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