Cassandra
To me, one silly task is like another.
I bare the shambling tricks of lust and pride.
This flesh will never give a child its mother,—
Song, like a wing, tears through my breast, my side,
And madness chooses out my voice again,
Again. I am the chosen no hand saves:
The shrieking heaven lifted over men,
Not the dumb earth, wherein they set their graves.
poem by Louise Bogan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
I Shall Not Burn
I have done with love and lust,
I reck not for gold or fame;
I await familiar dust
These frail fingers to reclaim:
Not for me the tiger flame.
Not for me the furnace glow,
Rage of fire and ashen doom;
To sweet earth my bones bestow
Where above a lowly tomb
January roses bloom.
Fools and fools and fools are you
Who your dears to fires confide;
Give to Mother Earth her due:
Flesh may waste but bone will bide,--
Let loved ones lie side by side.
Let God's Acre ever dream;
Shed your tears and blossoms bring;
On age-burnished bone will gleam
Crucifix and wedding ring:
Graves are for sweet comforting.
Curst be those who my remains
Hurl to horror of the flames!
poem by Robert William Service
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Fantasy IV
Pounce of nipple
Snatches,
Catches me off guard
Flounce and ripple
Thro' the breasts
Arrests
Landing hard,
I'm flung upon my back
To analyse the ceiling -
No appealing under stress
Now under dress -
Panties gone
And she upon
My countenance -
I rouse to bait
Her feminine way
Lead astray by
Aromatic warming
Of her womanhood,
I tune her body's
Resonance
Thro' eloquence of tongue -
Her shrieking
Highly strung
We up the play
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2012
lust lust lust lust lust lust lust lust lust
lust lust lust lust lust lust lust lust lust
lust lust lust lust lust lust lust lust lust lust
lust lust lust lust lust lust lust lust lust lust lust lust lust
lust lust lust lust lust lust lust lust lust
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Witch
Eyes, rivulets of red that run beneath a canopy
Of green-tinged lashes –
Tear blood playing on the grey-white skin,
Stretched across the twin peaks of cheekbone.
That slender pillar of a neck –
Magnet of eroticism, blinds to
Veins gorging on the flesh,
Dancing under pulse of blood –
Or whatever pumps inside.
Coal-black lips word intentions –
Castigations – variations of the horror
She was born to be.
O the hair! – a flame-orange avalanche
Thundering down to Hell
Where seething mounds of torn bodies lost their souls
To viler wants and fouler holes of
Scatological minds.
And the plunge of lavish breast –
E’er the siren’s weapon! –
Baits the mortal man –
Were he to chance his hand across
The certainty of doom.
But still we go, our weakness on display –
Hers will not a challenge be to see to our decay.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2011
Under lust rain
lust lust lust lust lust lust lust
lust lust lust lust lust lust lust
lust lust lust lust lust lust lust
lust lust lust lust lust lust lust
lust lust lust lust lust lust lust
lust lust lust lust lust lust lust
lust lust lust lust lust lust lust
lust lust lust lust lust lust lust
lust lust lust lust lust lust lust
lust lust lust lust lust lust lust
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A wing and a prayer
I lifted my face toward the sky
Inorder to hold back my tears
I didnt want to cry
I've pray over and over
Attempting not to ask god why?
Just when all seemed impossible
A wing of an angel brushed my side
I heard in a small strong voice
The God of heaven
has heard your cry, and from
Today on, you shall have a new life
For now, until forever in God
Shall I place my trust
For in his word
He promises never to forget about us
I believe
Anyone can experience
A brush of an Angel's wing
If they pray
poem by Angel A. Lockwood
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Bird and flower upon the tree
A bird and flower upon the tree,
Sweet peony and oriole,
Each of them a perfect soul,
Song and sweetness manifest
The bird and flower we love the best
Side by side on the tall tree.
'Flower who art sunlight and fire, flower who art perfume and joy,
Sweetest of sweet,
Ah for the gift withheld!
Ah for the given gift's alloy!
Why must thy spirit exhale only in beauty and breath?
Ah for the voice thou hast not! I by thy side on the tree,
Telling the world of love, pain, and all raptures that be,
Raptures of laughter and life, raptures of tears and death,
Singing my heart to heaven, singing to earth at my feet;
Silence in thee.'
'Bird who art dew-drops and flame, bird who art rapture and song,
Sweetest of sweet,
Lo there's a voice part mine, songs that to me too belong,
Songs that grew of my growth, voice that has breathed my breath.
Bird that while I sit mute singest beside on the tree,
Hast thou ever a song taking no perfume of me?
Give forth my sweetness in song; bird, thou art singing for both,
Singing our hearts to heaven, singing to earth at our feet;
My voice in thee.'
On the tree-top side by side,
Sweet oriole and peony;
Music rings through earth and sky,
Sweet and sweet in sweetness lost
The flower and bird we love the most,
On the tree-top side by side.
poem by Augusta Davies Webster
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Broken-wing Angel
Out of a sapphire blue heaven
I fell down to earth,
while I reached with my right hand
for the stars.
Michael and Gabriel was with me
when a thunder stroke
clapped blinding out of the darkness
and hit my right wing and singe it.
The forces of darkness
was suddenly everywhere around me
and with a last desperate swish
of my left wing
and with a flaming sword
I tried to stop
that they lay there hands
on a child in Clanwilliam.
Today there’s a marble statue
at that child’s grave
and no man knows,
why I protect that piece of earth
with a broken wing.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Countess Cathleen In Paradise
ALL the heavy days are over;
Leave the body's coloured pride
Underneath the grass and clover,
With the feet laid side by side.
Bathed in flaming founts of duty
She'll not ask a haughty dress;
Carry all that mournful beauty
To the scented oaken press.
Did the kiss of Mother Mary
Put that music in her face?
Yet she goes with footstep wary,
Full of earth's old timid grace.
'Mong the feet of angels seven
What a dancer glimmering!
All the heavens bow down to Heaven,
Flame to flame and wing to wing.
poem by William Butler Yeats
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Song: XI
Mother, mother, do you not hear?
Mother, they come; there is news to tell!
– Give me your hands, my daughter dear:
'Tis but a ship that saileth well.
Mother dear, have a care, give heed!
–They go, my daughter, away they speed.
Mother, the danger is sore, alas!
– Child, my child, it will quickly pass.
Mother, mother, She draweth near!
– It is down in the harbour, daughter dear.
Mother, mother, She opens the door!
– Child, they go, to return no more.
Mother, She enters! I am afraid!
– Child, they now have the anchor weighed.
Mother, I hear Her speaking low.
– Child, my child, it is they that go.
Mother, She makes the stars go dark!
– Child, 'tis the sails of a shadowy bark.
Mother, She knocks at the casement still!
– Child, maybe it is fastened ill. . . .
Mother, mother, my sight grows dim. . . .
– Child, they sail for the open sea.
On every hand I can hear but Him. . . .
– O child, what is it, and who is He?
poem by Maurice Polydore-Marie-Bernard Maeterlinck
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Man Heaven And Earth
caught in between
man situates
in the confused state
and he is there
and it is so beautiful to see
earth, man, and heaven
both hands
holding
like a greedy child
taking both
on one grip
lust, flesh,
humanity
can heaven be still faraway?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Pretty Girls Make Graves
Upon the sand, upon the bay
"there is a quick and easy way" you say
Before you illustrate
I'd rather state :
"i'm not the man you think i am
I'm not the man you think i am"
And sorrow's native son
He will not smile for anyone
And pretty girls make graves
Oh ...
End of the pier, end of the bay
You tug my arm, and say : "give in to lust,
Give up to lust, oh heaven knows we'll
Soon be dust ... "
Oh, i'm not the man you think i am
I'm not the man you think i am
And sorrow's native son
He will not rise for anyone
And pretty girls make graves
Oh ...
I could have been wild and i could have
Been free
But nature played this trick on me
She wants it now
And she will not wait
But she's too rough
And i'm too delicate
Then, on the sand
Another man, he takes her hand
A smile lights up her stupid face
(and well, it would)
I lost my faith in womanhood
I lost my faith in womanhood
I lost my faith ...
Oh ...
Hand in glove ...
The sun shines out of our behinds ...
Oh ...
song performed by by Smiths
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The child in our soul
Toward God in heaven spacious
With artless faith a boy looks free,
As toward his mother gracious,
And top of Christmas-tree.
But early in the storm of youth
There wounds him deep the serpent's tooth;
His childhood's faith is doubted
And flouted.
Soon stands in radiant splendor
With bridal wreath his boyhood's dream;
Her loving eyes and tender
The light of heaven's faith stream.
As by his mother's knee of yore
God's name he stammers yet once more,
The rue of tears now paying
And praying.
When now life's conflict stirring
Leads him along through doubtings wild,
Then upward points unerring
Close by his side his child.
With children he a child is still
And whatsoe'er his heart may chill,
Prayer for his son is warming,
Transforming.
The greatest man in wonder
Must ward the child within his breast,
And list 'mid loudest thunder
Its whisperings unrepressed.
Where oft a hero fell with shame,
The child it was restored his name,
His better self revealing,
And healing.
All great things thought created
In child-like joy sprang forth and grew;
All strength with goodness mated,
Obeyed the child's voice true.
When beauty in the soul held sway,
The child gave it in artless play;-
All wisdom worldly-minded
Is blinded.
Hail him, who forward presses
So far that he a home is worth
For there alone possesses
The child-life peace on earth.
Though worn we grieve and hardened grow,
What solace 't is our home to know
With children's laughter ringing
And singing.
poem by Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Don’t Give Up in Protecting the Mother Earth
Don’t Give Up in Protecting the Mother Earth
My son… Look at how you managed
To protect the Mother Earth in the past
When you were younger
You stood up
With your head up
Against all the odds
You managed to protect the Mother Earth then
When many people were ignorant of
The Mother Earth’s feelings
So why are you afraid now
This time
The public opinion is in your side
So why are you loosing faith
Mother Earth needs your protection and care
Don’t give up
Take the first step
And
Everything else will follow
So my son
Don’t give up in protecting the Mother Earth
poem by Frederick Kambemba Yamusangie
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Gift Of The Sea
The dead child lay in the shroud,
And the widow watched beside;
And her mother slept, and the Channel swept
The gale in the teeth of the tide.
But the mother laughed at all.
"I have lost my man in the sea,
And the child is dead. Be still," she said,
"What more can ye do to me?"
The widow watched the dead,
And the candle guttered low,
And she tried to sing the Passing Song
That bids the poor soul go.
And "Mary take you now," she sang,
"That lay against my heart."
And "Mary smooth your crib to-night,"
But she could not say "Depart."
Then came a cry from the sea,
But the sea-rime blinded the glass,
And "Heard ye nothing, mother?" she said,
"'Tis the child that waits to pass."
And the nodding mother sighed.
"'Tis a lambing ewe in the whin,
For why should the christened soul cry out
That never knew of sin?"
"O feet I have held in my hand,
O hands at my heart to catch,
How should they know the road to go,
And how should they lift the latch?"
They laid a sheet to the door,
With the little quilt atop,
That it might not hurt from the cold or the dirt,
But the crying would not stop.
The widow lifted the latch
And strained her eyes to see,
And opened the door on the bitter shore
To let the soul go free.
There was neither glimmer nor ghost,
There was neither spirit nor spark,
And "Heard ye nothing, mother?" she said,
"'Tis crying for me in the dark."
And the nodding mother sighed:
"'Tis sorrow makes ye dull;
Have ye yet to learn the cry of the tern,
Or the wail of the wind-blown gull?"
"The terns are blown inland,
The gray gull follows the plough.
'Twas never a bird, the voice I heard,
O mother, I hear it now!"
"Lie still, dear lamb, lie still;
The child is passed from harm,
'Tis the ache in your breast that broke your rest,
And the feel of an empty arm."
She put her mother aside,
"In Mary's name let be!
For the peace of my soul I must go," she said,
And she went to the calling sea.
In the heel of the wind-bit pier,
Where the twisted weed was piled,
She came to the life she had missed by an hour,
For she came to a little child.
She laid it into her breast,
And back to her mother she came,
But it would not feed and it would not heed,
Though she gave it her own child's name.
And the dead child dripped on her breast,
And her own in the shroud lay stark;
And "God forgive us, mother," she said,
"We let it die in the dark!"
poem by Rudyard Kipling
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Beauty of a Mother
The beauty of a woman starts
When her womb begins to grow
The child that she'll give birth
Soon will call her, “my mother”
The beauty of a mother reigns
When her arms cradle her child
And her charm shines within
Her heart full of love and care
The beauty of mother un-fades
When her hands guide her child
In all places walking side by side
To protect her child from danger
The beauty of a mother is her brain
To teach her child to read and write
To let the child know the difference
Of what is wrong and what is right
The beauty of a mother is her act
To treat her child without compare
To list none of whatsoever is best
For her child is the gem of her life
Then the beauty of mother reflects
From the eyes of her child in return
To respect, love, and care for her
When age and time set them apart
poem by Efren Petalver Carranza
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
John Webster: VII
THUNDER: the flesh quails, and the soul bows down.
Night: east, west, south, and northward, very night
Star upon struggling star strives into sight,
Star after shuddering star the deep storms drown.
The very throne of night, her very crown,
A man lays hand on, and usurps her right
Song from the highest of heaven’s imperious height
Shoots, as a fire to smite some towering town.
Rage, anguish, harrowing fear, heart-crazing crime,
Make monstrous all the murderous face of Time
Shown in the spheral orbit of a glass
Revolving. Earth cries out from all her graves.
Frail, on frail rafts, across wide-wallowing waves,
Shapes here and there of child and mother pass.
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Silence is Deafening
Hush, silly girl, stop breathing.
Hush, silly girl, keep it inside.
Stop, silly girl, wipe you tears.
Stop, silly girl, your crying.
Quit, silly girl, stay still.
Quit, silly girl, don’t move.
Close, silly girl, your eyes.
Close, silly girl, your mouth.
Don't, silly girl, bite my hand.
Don't, silly gril, kick my side.
Yes, silly girl, you’re mine.
Yes, silly girl, you’re mine.
I am before you.
I won’t adore you.
I control you.
You are mine.
Hush.
poem by Lyndee Michelle
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sonnet: The Word of God
The Word of God has unrivaled power;
No act of Satan can it antagonize;
God chooses men and time like rain shower;
His chosen sheep, their Master recognize.
The Word of God pervades Heaven and Earth;
It finally triumphs when Doomsday comes;
To get it done, there is no person’s dearth;
Heaven’s reward for upright soul’s handsome.
The Bible tells of future things to come,
And warns and guides the people to live right;
It is not true that God remains quite dumb;
God helps each one, his temptations to fight.
The Word of God cannot go wrong at all;
Satan and his bad angels surely fall.
6-7-2001
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Love Lifted Me
I was sinking deep in sin,
Far from the peaceful shore,
Very deeply stained within,
Sinking to rise no more.
But the Master of the sea
Heard my despairing cry,
>From the waters lifted me.
Now safe am I.
Love lifted me! Love lifted me!
When nothing else could help,
Love lifted me.
Love lifted me! Love lifted me!
When nothing else could help
Love lifted me.
Souls in danger look above
Jesus completely saves
He will lift you by his love
Out of the angry waves
But the master of the sea
Billows His will obey
He your savior wants to be
Be saved today
Love lifted me! Love lifted me!
When nothing else could help,
Love lifted me.
Love lifted me! Love lifted me!
When nothing else could help
Love lifted me.
song performed by by Kenny Rogers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
God Gave To Me A Child In Part
GOD gave to me a child in part,
Yet wholly gave the father's heart:
Child of my soul, O whither now,
Unborn, unmothered, goest thou?
You came, you went, and no man wist;
Hapless, my child, no breast you kist;
On no dear knees, a privileged babbler, clomb,
Nor knew the kindly feel of home.
My voice may reach you, O my dear-
A father's voice perhaps the child may hear;
And, pitying, you may turn your view
On that poor father whom you never knew.
Alas! alone he sits, who then,
Immortal among mortal men,
Sat hand in hand with love, and all day through
With your dear mother wondered over you.
poem by Robert Louis Stevenson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Soldier Uniform
There lay the young soldier, see, from his side,
Flows swiftly the current whose dark pulsing tide
Is bearing away the bright sands of life,
And closing forever this wild dream of strife.
Farewell! life is o'er, earth fades from his sight,
Around him is closing death's long dreamless night.
Then softly as star-light melts into day,
On pinions of Angels his soul passed away.
And who was he? A young soldier boy,
Of his home the pride and joy;
The pet and darling of every heart,
That in his young life has shared a part.
His fond Mother blessed him and looked up above,
Commending to Heaven the child of her love.
Then parting the flowers they laid him to rest,
And heaped the green sod o'er the young soldier breast.
Fold it up carefully, lay it aside,
Gently touch it and look upon it with pride.
For close it be to his Mother heart for evermore
The uniform her son had wore.
poem by Othel Cowan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!