To Peace
THE cup, the ruby cup
Whence anguish drips,
At last is lifted up
Against our lips.
Though we, till seas run dry,
Your lovers are,
How can we put it by,
Red cup of war?
We champion your task;
Your wounds we bind;
Behind the battle mask
Our eyes are kind.
Upon this foaming edge
Of blood and flame,
With shuddering lips we pledge
Your name.
poem by Katharine Lee Bates
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Related quotes
Red Lips With a Hint of Confidence
You have to be confident
Walk in a room with your chin up
You are the leader of every step
They will stare at you
Captivated by your Walk
And those juicy red lips you wear
Its because of the air around
The way your hair moves
You Control their eyes
Ruby red lips and sexy hips
You have the confidence
To move a man with one look
A flick of the wrist if you will
A task you undertake with ease
Your smile takes over them
With that delicious red lipstick
You tangle up all their thoughts
all because you are confident
Ruby Red Lips
Sexy little Hips
and a Stare that can control a man
A Stare of Confidence
poem by Audrey Marie Kay
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Ruby Red Rose
To touch your lips,
ruby red rose
is to touch the petals
of a rose that grows
soft with moisture,
dewy and wet.
They're touched by your tongue,
withdrawn and yet
they glisten and shine.
And what I see
are kisses saved
just for me.
They sometimes smile
and beckon me.
I savor the feel
they give and see
that no other lips
could be as fine.
No other lips
like ruby red wine
could ever compare
as they open and close
to anything else
but a ruby red rose.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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1. Two Red Candles Burning Through Night
chinese wedding
two red candles burn
though the night
wax sizzles,
drips, drips
with our red hot
passion for each other
drips, drips
fluidly down the bar
the whole night
drips, drips, with
each pause of
our desire
each hug of our
affirmation for
each other
drips, drips
with our thirst
for each other
drips, drips
and clings to
the bar, warm
as our bosoms
drips, drips
solidifying
the night into our
assurance
for each other
drips drips till
the morning
turning the night
into an ecstatic
tour de force,
a union crystallising in
a mass of bliss
resting quiet on
the base of two
exhaust candles
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Such a Sweet Kiss
You blew me such a sweet, sweet
Sweet kiss..
It rode upon the winds to find
My ruby red lips, to fall in love
Once again..
You look down at me as your
Lips spoke the words “I’ve
Found my true love and my
Lips will never kiss another”
Let not our love die in vain
For I’ve seen a nightingale
Perched upon my windowsill,
I heard the nightingale sing
So sweet, so sweet
It sang of my ruby red lips
With,
Lyric were off the chain..
Such harmony cannot will
Not,
Be perfected again..
poem by Carolyn Sears
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In Human Closeness there is a Secret Edge
In human closeness there is a secret edge,
Nor love nor passion can pass it above,
Let lips with lips be joined in silent rage,
And hearts be burst asunder with the love.
And friendship, too, is powerless plot,
And so years of bliss with noble tends,
When your heart is free and known not,
The slow languor of the earthy sense.
And they who strive to reach this edge are mad,
But they who reached are shocked with anguish hard -
Now you know why beneath your hand
You do not feel the beating of my heart.
poem by Anna Akhmatova
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A Marriage Ceremony
i know even for the very first time that i have seen them.
when the groom lifted the white veil to kiss
her lips
she hesitated to close her eyes
his lips did not tremble in
excitement
at the last second when his lips touched
hers
he closed his eyes but very briefly
the touch was minimal
and then he took away love
back into his mouth
reverberating to his heart
where
indifference is beginning to
seed.
how i wish i could understand this ritual
this institution
of fusion where energy can not
and can never
be stored
potential at all.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Lips and Eyes.
IN Celia's face a question did arise,
Which were more beautiful, her lips or eyes ?
“ We,” said the eyes, “send forth those pointed darts
Which pierce the hardest adamantine hearts.”
“ From us,” repli'd the lips, “proceed those blisses
Which lovers reap by kind words and sweet kisses.”
Then wept the eyes, and from their springs did pour
Of liquid oriental pearl a shower ;
Whereat the lips, moved with delight and pleasure,
Through a sweet smile unlock'd their pearly treasure
And bad Love judge, whether did add more grace
Weeping or smiling pearls to Celia's face.
poem by Thomas Carew
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Take Care, Take Care
Bind up, bind up your dark bright hair
And hide the smouldering sunken fire.
Let it be held no more than fair,
Nor yourself guess how rare, how rare
Its movement, colour and deep fire.
Your eyes they have their consciousness,
Your lips their grave reflective smile,
Your hands their cunning for distress:
Your hair has only beauteousness
And hid flame for its only guile.
That glowing hair on shoulders white
Is pride past sum: take care, take care!
Even to dream of wish'd delight
Too much perturbs the ebb of night--
Bind up, bind up your burning hair!
poem by John Freeman
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Lovers In Arms
Passion explores
New avenues of the soul
Bringing with it fire
Burning lips kiss
Hot breath embracing
Each sensual touch
Lovers in arms
Moving in the night
A dance of desire
A serenade of passion
Eyes hold firm
Another’s longing gaze
Teeth bite against lips
A faint taste of blood
A racing heart
Telling its own tale
Where lovers in arms
Lay in the night
poem by Matthew Holloway
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The Tryst
I raised the veil, I loosed the bands,
I took the dead thing from its place.
Like a warm stream in frozen lands
My lips went wandering on her face,
My hands burnt in her hands.
She could not stay me, being dead;
Her body here was mine to hold.
What if her lips had lost their red?
To me they always tasted cold
With the cold words she said.
Did my breath run along her hair,
And free the pulse, and fire the brain,
My wild blood wake her wild blood there?
Here eyelids lifted wide again
In a blue, sudden stare.
Beneath my fierce, profane caress
The whole white length of body moved;
The drowsy bosom seemed to press
As if against a breast beloved,
Then fail for weariness.
No, not that anguish! Christ forbid
That I should raise such dead! I rose,
Stifled the mouth with lilies, hid
Those eyes, And drew the long hair close,
And shut the coffin lid.
My cold brow on the cold wood laid,
Quiet and close to-night we lie.
No cruel words her lips have said.
I shall not take nor she deny.
The dead is with the dead.
poem by Muriel Stuart
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The Tears Of A Painter
Apelles, hearing that his boy
Had just expired--his only joy!
Although the sight with anguish tore him,
Bade place his dear remains before him.
He seized his brush, his colours spread;
And--'Oh! my child, accept,'--he said,
'('Tis all that I can now bestow,)
This tribute of a father's woe!'
Then, faithful to the twofold part,
Both of his feelings and his art,
He closed his eyes with tender care,
And form'd at once a fellow pair.
His brow with amber locks beset,
And lips he drew not livid yet;
And shaded all that he had done
To a just image of his son.
Thus far is well. But view again
The cause of thy paternal pain!
Thy melancholy task fulfil!
It needs the last, last touches still.
Again his pencil's powers he tries,
For on his lips a smile he spies:
And still his cheek unfaded shows
The deepest damask of the rose.
Then, heedful to the finish’d whole,
With fondest eagerness he stole,
Till scarce himself distinctly knew
The cherub copied from the true.
Now, painter, cease! Thy task is done.
Long lives this image of thy son;
Nor short-lived shall thy glory prove
Or of thy labour or thy love.
poem by William Cowper
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The Mask
yes, there was this man in the village
he was happy.
yet, no one know who he really was
even until death.
all his life he wore the mask of the happy man
dignified and praised.
when he lived till 60 he wore the mask through and through
he was famous for his love and charity.
till his funeral the people cried
there i saw the mask, smiling and always willing to help
always empathizing, always willing to understand
the plight of each and everyone
and he was buried a happy man
time buries all including the mask of the happy man
if only they had taken time to dig him out from his grave
they could have seen the rotten ugliness beneath the mask of happiness
let him go, those who knew later said
he was a happy man, he served us so well, let him be, we pray.
i know the ugliness of his true self
but i guess, no one likes to hear what it is.
my lips are sealed
now we must praise him again: posthumously.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Her Eyes Say Yes
Her eyes say Yes, her lips say No.
Ah, tell me, Love, when she denies,
Shall I believe the lips or eyes?
Bid eyes no more dissemble,
Or lips too tremble
The way her heart would go!
Love may be vowed by lips, although
Cold truth, in unsurrendering eyes,
The armistice of lips denies.
But can fond eyes dissemble,
Or false lips tremble
To this soft Yes in No?
poem by Arthur Symons
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In These Poems That We Write
these are the wounds of the heart
let your fingers pierce that part
blood drips from a wounded heart
pain gleaming against the light
time has not healed the wounds
you can hear the screaming sounds
these are the wounds of my heart
we are not many miles apart
we share the wounds of the heart
in these poems that we draft
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Would You Know?
Would you know the kind of maid
Sets my heart a flame-a?
Eyes must be downcast and staid,
Cheeks must flush for shame-a!
She may neither dance nor sing,
But, demure in everything,
Hang her head in modest way
With pouting lips that seem to say,
"Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me, kiss me,
Though I die of shame-a!"
Please you, that's the kind of maid
Sets my heart a flame-a!
When a maid is bold and gay
With a tongue goes clang-a,
Flaunting it in brave array,
Maiden may go hang-a!
Sunflower gay and hollyhock
Never shall my garden stock;
Mine the blushing rose of May,
With pouting lips that seem to say
"Oh, kiss me, kiss me, kiss me, kiss me,
Though I die for shame-a!"
Please you, that's the kind of maid
Sets my heart a flame-a!
poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
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Sold
(richard fagan/robb royer)
Well i went down to the grundy county auction
Where i saw something i just had to have
My mind told me i should proceed with caution
But my heart said, "go ahead an' make a bid on that!"
An' i said, hey, pretty lady, won'cha gi'me a sign
I'd give anything to make you mine all mine
I'll do your biddin' an' be at your beckon call
Yeah, i never seen anyone lookin' so fine
Man, i gotta have her, she's a one-of-a-kind
I'm goin' once, goin' twice,
I'm sold! on the lady in the second row
She's an eight, she's a nine, she's a ten, i know
She's got ruby red lips, blond hair, blue eyes
An' i'm about to bid my heart good-bye!
Well, the auctioneer was goin' about a mile a minute
He was takin' bids an' callin' them out loud
An' i guess i was really gettin' in it
'cause i just shouted out above the crowd!
An' i said, hey, pretty lady, won'cha gi'me a sign
I'd give anything to make you mine all mine
I'll do your biddin' an' be at your beckon call
Yeah, i never seen anyone lookin' so fine
Man, i gotta have her, she's a one-of-a-kind
I'm goin' once, goin' twice,
I'm sold! on the lady in the long black dress
Well she won my heart it was no contest
With her ruby red lips, blond hair, blue eyes
Well i'm about to bid my heart good-bye!
Yeah, we found love on the auction block
An' i hauled her heart away
Now we still love to laugh about
The way we met that day
When i said, hey, pretty lady, won'cha gi'me a sign
I'd give anything to make you mine all mine
I'll do your biddin' an' be at your beckon call
Yeah, i never seen anyone lookin' so fine
Man, i gotta have her, she's a one-of-a-kind
I'm goin' once, goin' twice,
I'm sold! on the lady in the second row
She's an eight, she's a nine, she's a ten, i know
Shes's got ruby red lips, blond hair blue eyes
An' i'm about to bid my heart good-bye!
song performed by by John Michael Montgomery
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sorrow Versus Revenge...Justify
Sorrow. Strange word. Six tiny letters....
Murmured by murderers. Priests.
A word bled from lips. Eyes. hands.
Dry sand raging hearts. Doubt. Decision.
False. Steadfast. Indecisive.
What sword drips sorrow, slicing freedom
For nations?
What nation oozes sorrow, being lifted
From despots?
What joyous revels bought in blood.
Sorrow. Sorry.
Boudicea, daughters raped, raged
Tribes to war. Romans' blood-bath.
Revenge by sorrow.
Lakota Sioux, Red Cloud's curse remembered,
Left one pony alive. Custer...sorry?
Revenge by sorrow.
Can sorrow separate from blood...mental. Physical
Storms of years. Judged. Betrayed.
In seconds, we create
Eons.
Sorrow.
poem by Elysabeth Faslund
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Clair de Lune
In the moonlit room your face,
Moonlight-coloured, fainting white,
And the silence of the place
Round about us in the night,
And my arms are round about you
In the silence of the night.
Lips that are not mine to kiss,
Lips how often kissed in vain,
Broken seal of memories,
Where the kisses come again
That the lips of all your lovers
Laid upon your lips in vain;
Eyes that are not mine to keep
In the mirror of mine eyes,
Where I tremble lest from sleep
Other ghosts should re-arise;
Why enthrall me with your magic,
Haunting lips, triumphant eyes?
For the silence of the night
Swims around me like a stream,
And your eyes have caught the light
Of a moon-enchanted dream,
And your arms glide round about me,
And I fade into a dream.
poem by Arthur Symons
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A Variation
I am tired of this!
Nothing else but loving!
Nothing else but kiss and kiss,
Coo, and turtle-doving!
Can't you change the order some?
Hate me just a little--come!
Lay aside your 'dears,'
'Darlings,' 'kings,' and 'princes!'--
Call me knave, and dry your tears--
Nothing in me winces,--
Call me something low and base--
Something that will suit the case!
Wish I had your eyes
And their drooping lashes!
I would dry their teary lies
Up with lightning-flashes--
Make your sobbing lips unsheathe
All the glitter of your teeth!
Can't you lift one word--
With some pang of laughter--
Louder than the drowsy bird
Crooning 'neath the rafter?
Just one bitter word, to shriek
Madly at me as I speak!
How I hate the fair
Beauty of your forehead!
How I hate your fragrant hair!
How I hate the torrid
Touches of your splendid lips,
And the kiss that drips and drips!
Ah, you pale at last!
And your face is lifted
Like a white sail to the blast,
And your hands are shifted
Into fists: and, towering thus,
You are simply glorious!
Now before me looms
Something more than human;
Something more than beauty blooms
In the wrath of Woman--
Something to bow down before
Reverently and adore.
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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I Can't Kiss You
I can't kiss you as one drop
my lips are a boat that loves to wave your ocean
I can't kiss you as one match
my lips are the matchbox that lights your lips' fire
I can't kiss you as one moment
my lips are the clock that loses its hours
I can't kiss you as one lips' graze
my lips like to write long carmine stories
I can't kiss you right now
my lips need a romantic cosiness
I wouldn't like just to kiss you
my lips would like to pad into your lips' flower
(eternity)
poem by Ata Augustyn
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