Before The Casting Of My Shadow Stops
Sitting as a wick lit drips wax,
To watch a flame from a candle burn...
In a silent ending eventually to come.
Seems to add more light and meaning,
To my dreams to fulfill.
And to realize before the casting,
Of my shadow stops.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Related quotes
Sonnet: Life’s Candle Flame
Our life is like a candle-wick aflame,
Whose glowing brightness drives darkness away,
And keeps on burning though a fierce Wind came,
To sputter, spew forth smoke, all night ‘til day.
A blowing Gale can make us burn too fast;
The wind can put the flame off premature;
Both wick and wax must synchronously last;
Our teacher best is dear Mother Nature.
How long each candle lasts? No one can tell;
How bright the flame can be? Depends on us;
Yet, some waste wick and wax to burn like hell!
God expects us to burn steady sans fuss.
A candle ought to light the world that’s dark;
Yet, burn with steadiness without a spark!
5-18-2002 by Dr John Celes
poem by John Celes
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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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Ceaseless Burn
Ceaseless burn set me afire.
Rage with love, light my desire.
Let the fire put out never,
My eternal burn forever.
Undying burn, ignited now
Do not through your fire allow
Lighter's flash to others flare:
Cheat you, then, I would not dare.
Never-ending burn, eternally then
Keep your burn from other men
With my burn I you proclaim
Forever my never-ending flame.
poem by Nikhil Chandwani
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A Candle And A Man.
Someone lights a candle
And I see the things around.
A candle must burn like this
Nay, every candle must burn like this.
I begin to tell every one.
A candle dies as it lives for us
And we appear to live while we travel towards the end.
A candle lives and lives while it appears to be dying..
A lot we have to learn.
I begin to learn none.
It`s a candle which lives and lives throws greater questions
And I begin to be introceptive
-A mental exercise on a confined mind.
When shall I begin to live like a candle?
When shall I give out a flame that lives?
The questions begin to boomerang on me
As I sit in the candle light and see everything.
I see everything?
I miss to see a candle too.
The ghost of a candle haunts me.
poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
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Dissolute
Many years have I still to burn, detained
Like a candle flame on this body; but I enshine
A darkness within me, a presence which sleeps contained
In my flame of living, her soul enfolded in mine.
And through these years, while I burn on the fuel of life,
What matter the stuff I lick up in my living flame,
Seeing I keep in the fire-core, inviolate,
A night where she dreams my dreams for me, ever the same.
poem by David Herbert Lawrence
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Meditations Upon A Candle
Man's like a candle in a candlestick,
Made up of tallow and a little wick;
And as the candle when it is not lighted,
So is he who is in his sins benighted.
Nor can a man his soul with grace inspire,
More than can candles set themselves on fire.
Candles receive their light from what they are not;
Men grace from Him for whom at first they care not.
We manage candles when they take the fire;
God men, when he with grace doth them inspire.
And biggest candles give the better light,
As grace on biggest sinners shines most bright.
The candle shines to make another see,
A saint unto his neighbour light should be.
The blinking candle we do much despise,
Saints dim of light are high in no man's eyes.
Again, though it may seem to some a riddle,
We use to light our candles at the middle.
True light doth at the candle's end appear,
And grace the heart first reaches by the ear.
But 'tis the wick the fire doth kindle on,
As 'tis the heart that grace first works upon.
Thus both do fasten upon what's the main,
And so their life and vigour do maintain.
The tallow makes the wick yield to the fire,
And sinful flesh doth make the soul desire
That grace may kindle on it, in it burn;
So evil makes the soul from evil turn.
But candles in the wind are apt to flare,
And Christians, in a tempest, to despair.
The flame also with smoke attended is,
And in our holy lives there's much amiss.
Sometimes a thief will candle-light annoy,
And lusts do seek our graces to destroy.
What brackish is will make a candle sputter;
'Twixt sin and grace there's oft' a heavy clutter.
Sometimes the light burns dim, 'cause of the snuff,
Sometimes it is blown quite out with a puff;
But watchfulness preventeth both these evils,
Keeps candles light, and grace in spite of devils.
Nor let not snuffs nor puffs make us to doubt,
Our candles may be lighted, though puffed out.
The candle in the night doth all excel,
Nor sun, nor moon, nor stars, then shine so well.
So is the Christian in our hemisphere,
Whose light shows others how their course to steer.
When candles are put out, all's in confusion;
Where Christians are not, devils make intrusion.
Then happy are they who such candles have,
All others dwell in darkness and the grave.
But candles that do blink within the socket,
And saints, whose eyes are always in their pocket,
Are much alike; such candles make us fumble,
And at such saints good men and bad do stumble.
Good candles don't offend, except sore eyes,
Nor hurt, unless it be the silly flies.
Thus none like burning candles in the night,
Nor ought to holy living for delight.
But let us draw towards the candle's end:
The fire, you see, doth wick and tallow spend,
As grace man's life until his glass is run,
And so the candle and the man is done.
The man now lays him down upon his bed,
The wick yields up its fire, and so is dead.
The candle now extinct is, but the man
By grace mounts up to glory, there to stand.
poem by John Bunyan
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Candle of Hope
Candle of Hope
Lost within space and time,
I am running, as I am
Following the stars before me-
Inside of my mind,
All I can see are moments of madness.
My hair, blowing in the wind, behind me, as I
Dash away from all that I fear,
My thoughts are far away from
Every moment in time,
As I am searching for a ray of hope to hold onto as
None of my dreams have ever
Come true-
If I could light a candle,
Perhaps its flame would guide me towards a miracle-
A miracle of my most promising fantasies becoming reality-
Where the darkness of night
Would transform to the levity of daybreak at sunrise-
I am lost in space and time, where
My world continues to darken-
Life has always been a bizarre journey for me where
Hope has yet to be found-
It is the stars that have given me an increment of light,
Illuminating a pathway before me, to give me
Some small hope that I would awaken
In some other world where
Love, fortune and peace of mind would
Overshadow mistrust and sadness-
I whisper in thought, somewhere in the back of my mind-
Light me a candle with a flame so bright,
That will break through dark clouds of doubt-
Whereby I would be running forward in time,
Finding wealth, joy, and hope never ending
As the flame on that candle
Would burn for an eternity
Only to guide me forward, not backward,
Leaving that life of misfortune behind me-
Claudia Krizay
poem by Claudia Krizay
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The candle and the fly
A woman in love is a candle;
Her love and the candle’s flame are to burn.
Her pining is the candle’s burning.
They pine and burn and exhaust themselves.
A man in love is like a fly;
Both are in flight towards their targets
Of love and flame, to which they succumb
By one longing and the other by falling.
The candle is burnt; so is the beloved.
The fly is burnt; so is the lover.
No doubt, the end for them is mere ash
But their pursuits gave them enough push.
27.10.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Moths
The leaded window opened
To move the dancing candle flame
And the first moths of summer
Suicidal came.
And a new breeze chattered
In its may-bud tenderness ---
Sending water-lillies sailing
As she turned to get undressed.
And the long night awakened
And we soared on powdered wings ---
Circling our tomorrows
In the wary month of spring.
Chasing shadows slipping
In a magic lantern slide ---
Creatures of the candle
On a night-light-ride.
Dipping and weaving --- flutter
Through the golden needles eye
In our haystack madness. butterfly-stroking
On a spring-tide high.
Lifes too long (as the lemming said)
As the candle burned and the moths were wed.
And well all burn together as the wick grows higher ---
Before the candles dead.
The leaded window opened
To move the dancing candle flame.
And the first moths of summer
Suicidal came
To join in the worship
Of the light that never dies
In a moments reflection
Of two moths spinning in her eyes.
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Quicker Than a Wick
Those days that come,
With a visiting from darkness.
Seem to stay with us forever,
When we are young.
And too impatient to wait,
For our dreams to come true.
Some young people become distant,
And disrespectful.
With a doing of things regretted.
When days thought long and went on and on,
To become compared to minutes lived...
When aging done seems like a race to the finish line.
And those days that come with a visiting...
From darkness seem to remind us,
Our stay in the present days...
Are not for us in a foreverness to be remembered.
When we are young and many adventuresome...
And too impatient to wait,
For our dreams to come true.
Some sat in a brooding.
Not knowing what to do.
But choose to be insolent.
And then they do! Come true. Those dreams.
Although...
We seldom do realize it.
Until we've matured and reflect upon what has visited.
And why we were so concern to rush through a life,
Quicker than a wick can burn through wax...
To provide the darkness to be the canvas,
Of etched shadows cast.
To eventually end the flickering,
Of candlelight to leave silent our voices.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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An Old Widow
An old widow sat by the light of her flame,
Waiting for someone, but nobody came,
Then the wax began welting 'neath the heat of its wick,
Till her candle had dripped to the end of its stick.
poem by Joshua Dinkin
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The Pyro Maniac
A pyro with a flame.
Just writing your name in the sand.
Time tics by and fire after fire does not end the desire.
It's passion.
It's love.
It's a child's laughter.
Nothing left untouched.
As he makes his mark.
Personal and distant.
He's lived it.
Through the the fires eyes.
He can't help it.
He just want to watch everything burn.
Burn, Burn, Burn.
He speak to the eternal flame.
And she rise from the ashes.
Back again just the same.
Glowing so bright, so hot.
So appealing he can not ever turn away.
A obsession everyday.
No he doesn't care.
His mind is most certainly else where.
He can't help it
He just wants to watch everything burn.
Burn, Burn, Burn.
As holy body it rises from the grave.
As a scientific miracle it saves.
Staving off the cold.
Turning something into nothing.
It's just so amazing.
Captivating.
A star studded glaze.
An everlasting stare into nowhere.
Exhilarating is the feeling he gets.
Ever single time.
He can't help it.
He just wants to watch everything burn.
Burn, Burn, Burn.
He's a maniac.
No doubt it.
Completely reckless to t.
But its his divinity.
His saving grace.
His ace.
And he has a constant need to play it.
Even if someone dies.
He's not worried about it.
It off to the next.
He can't help it.
He just wants to watch everything burn.
Burn, Burn, Burn.
Yeah just burn, burn, burn, oh burn.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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An array of candles
On that corner
There is this array of
Candles
That you see
If you only look
Carefully
There is one candle
There
Its light is about to
Stop
Its wick so short
To last for
Another minute
That candle is my
Life
And soon it will
Signify an
End
Do not ask me
I do not want an
Extension
Even for a
Second
I had enough of
This light
This little light
I had enough of this
Vast darkness
There is no time
Nicer enough
To convince me
For more of it
I had enough
Let me say it again
I had enough of
You.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Flickering Flame of Life
As dusk was creeping in, one winter’s evening,
I lit a candle to add to the peaceful ambiance.
Sitting, with my coffee on the table by my side
the flickering flame soon had me entranced.
I began to compare my life to a new candle,
remembering that I used to be proud and tall.
Like a candle I just got on with my business
working and playing without fuss at all.
With the flickering flame I also had parity,
when new it burned small but bright,
but as it grew it became more illuminating,
and at its peak it danced all night.
Throughout life I shed tears as did the candle,
also aged, as it flickered the hours away.
Sadly I know when its light flickers no more,
my breath will similarly cease at the end of my days.
poem by Orlando Belo
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Beyond The Gray Sky
It is a gift I know
A moment of bliss that we hold
A firecracker flash of light then on
To the next plane soul remain
Come along if you dare
It's gonna be that you're scared
Lovely life I thank you
For the reason to see the pain through
Light a candle for the dead
The wick is burning returning what we have
It's who we are
We'll reach you if you're beyond the furthest star
Don't give up the fight to stay alive and even if
you have to
Find the reason of another's pain if they lose you
If not for your self then those around who care
like I do
One day you'll see the clear blue
Beyond the Gray Sky
Light a candle...
The wick...
It's who we are...
One day you'll see the clear blue
Beyond the Gray Sky
I can't believe you didn't call
What made you want to end it all
Wasn't there something I should have tried
To help you see beyond the gray sky
song performed by by 311
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Where Are You Now
Key:-a - anita r - ray
A: I watch the door but no one comes through
I watch the sun painting pictures of you
Nothing I do can kill the chill inside
Siliver days, wishes come true
Simple thoughts, enough love for two
Sharing a dream, sharing the warmth we had
Wheres the flame that kept us in motion
Did it burn out as well
Wheres the flame, did you take it with you
A: where are you now
Do you think of us
Do you think that it was worth it
Where are you now
Are you alone
Do you know that Ive be waiting
Ive been waiting when the sun goes down
A: all the roads, you taking alot
Stretch of sea a thousands times
But none of them roads bring you to my door
Wheres the flame that kept us in motion
Did it burn out as well
Wheres the flame, could you take it with you
A: where are you now
Do you think of us
Do you think that it was worth it
Where are you now
Are you alone
Should I hope that you are waiting
Where are you now
Do you think of us
Do you think that it was worth it
Where are you now
Are you alone
Can you see that Ive been waiting
Ive been waiting while the sun goes down
R: if you listen
You will hear
Close your eyes
Let light is near
A: yeah....
A: wheres the flame that kept you in motion
Did it burn out as well
Wheres the flame could you take it with you
A: where are you now
Do you think of us
Do you think that it was worth it
Where are you now
Will I ever know
Its somewhere I can find you
Somewhere the sun always shines
song performed by by 2 Unlimited
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Left Behind
How much does a shadow weight?
Ever present day by day
Silent ally, closest friend
Still beside me at day's end.
Shadows living without names
Candle light distorts and maims
Giving form to silent shapes
Saddening the figure gapes
Knowing full well we've a curse
secret kept in no man's purse
That one day all men must part
When rests still this beating heart.
And should I blow out the light
Would my shadow be alright?
poem by William Blake Beckett
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Light as many as you can.
I love you
for a long time.
You don’t know
how long I love.
you don’t know
how best I love
or for that
whether I love at all. (I love)
You may love
or may not.
If you love
I can outlive.
If not so
I will short live.
Can you lift
your veil to see? (You may)
Be a flame
of a candle.
You can spark
many candles.
You won’t die
by doing so.
Again and again,
Love can ignite love. (Be a flame)
I love you
for a long time.
Be a flame
to light my wick
in addition
to your own.
The more you are
illuminated,
The more you illuminate. (I love)
29.05.2001, Berhampur
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Burn That Candle
(winfield scott)
Keep that candle burnin bright, mama
Ill be kind of late tonight, mama
Theres a yellow moon above me, mama
Shinin on the one I love, mama
Burn that candle
Night and day
Burn that candle
Honey light our way
Keep that doorway open wide
Until we come slowly strollin side by side
While that candles shinin high, mama
Ill be with my sugar pie, mama
Well be comin home you know and mama
Lookin for that candle glowin, mama
After we have had the wedding, mama
To that candle well be headin, mama
So before were winin and dinin, mama
Keep that candle light a-shinin, mama
song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Candlelight
So many bees, who know so much
that only bees can tell,
gave their life’s devotion
to this single source of light;
silent whisper for your attention
to what it has to tell your sight,
before its substance burns, returns
into the upper air…
gently burns on altar, or scented in the bathroom’s grace;
or here in front of you, gentle hypnotist
for the wandering mind;
to which it has so much to tell..
tells of humility; gently burning
in a stable, before a birth;
tells of loving-kindness; gives itself,
yet asks for nothing but to be itself;
tells of worship: worship, first, of what the bees are;
and here in this honey-coloured form
is their own worship;
waxing silent in murmured devotion;
warming miraculously, into liquid wax;
only love can be so liquid;
only love can reach so far;
liquid, warmed into this present light:
the candle’s flame you know so well
yet cannot shape or hold;
already, candle hints to you
that there is that beyond all sense:
for round its light, air’s gently warmed:
drawing the flame itself into the invisible above
like the soul that’s yearning for its homeland;
and beyond, within, that air you cannot see
unless it moves some other thing,
it lights the space – space which is not
bathroom, altar; but all space;
candle tells you of all that;
draws the mind with steady, silent truth
to all creation in a single flame;
flame that asks for naught of you
but your attention; which it will reward
by telling you in stillness,
what you worship in yourself;
the light of self, that shines before all men
and glorifies its maker
like a gentle flame that cannot be put out.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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