No louder than the snoring tigers lolling tongue!
O’ my sleeping; weeping, thoughts.
Were like army blankets, you and I
observing; naught but sunbeams...
Naught...
But the lintel iron moonbeams,
under—which no one listens.
Nor speaks—but gibberish
No one sleeps, no one, dreams.
But even so’ it’s a sentry’s landscape
that’s foolhardy bold as any heaven
that’s nonsensical, as any song,
Sung in rhyme—one learns to love.
(That’s as still, as any silence
Hammering... in the darkened thereafter.)
“My own horrors anthem shot shall roar an alarm”...
No louder than the snoring tigers lolling tongue!
poem by Mark Heathcote

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Love Is...
Love is the abiding heart, willing to wait forever
For the time when it may be together
With its counterpoint in that of another;
Love is a bond that neither time nor
Distance may cause to alter,
Nor manner of travail, cause to falter.
Love is a patience, derived through faith and hope;
Love is the hidden strength, which allows you to cope
With all that life may choose to render;
Love is a warm embrace, reassuring and tender;
Love is courage, in the face of immense fear;
Love is pure beauty, sans compeer.
Love teaches, learns, builds, and shares;
Love is singular-yet when true, binds perfect pairs;
Love is selfless, humble, and ceaseless-
It is omniscient, omnipresent, and ubiquitous;
Love self-perpetuates-it begets more of the same;
Love is the imagined fire that you may never tame;
Love is the commanding General in my positivity's army-
This benevolent brigade ensures naught may harm me;
Love empowers, enables, and inspires-
It creates, betters, dotes, and admires;
Love fashions reality, from the scape of dreams-
Love is all you ever need, or so it seems.
There is naught that may be placed above-
'The only thing that counts is faith expressing itself through love.'*
Without love, you may do naught-
With love, you have all that for which you sought!
* Galatians 5: 6
-Maurice Harris,18 March 2011
poem by Maurice Harris

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Dreams
There is naught in the pathless reach
Of the pale, blue sky above,
There is naught that the stars tell, each to each,
As over the heavens they rove;
That I have not felt, or have not seen
Clad in dull earth or fancy's sheen.
There is naught, in the still, mauve twilight
When the dreams come flitting by,
From lands afar of eternal night,
Or lands of the sunswept sky,
For countless spirits within me dwell
With heaven's efflugence or dark hell.
poem by Joseph Seamon Cotter

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Vague
Once again,
My heart is blamed
My thoughts were vague.
I do not know
What I've done
To deserve
This hatred of yours.
My song no longer,
Fills your ears.
My soul has left
It's dwelling.
Of late tears,
Have washed my face,
Like rain
The heavens cry.
My eyes
Have frozen
To slates of ice,
Hiding the tatters
Of my dreams.
Hear the angels-
They call your name;
There's naught you,
Took the blame for.
Selfish human,
Darkened soul:
You rest in heaven
Eternally burning...
poem by Anne Harkonen

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I Am ... I Said
Written by: neil diamond
Song sung blue
Everybody knows one
Song sung blue
Every garden grows one
Me and you are subject to the blues now and then
But when you take the blues and make a song
You sing them out again
Sing them out again
Song sung blue
Weeping like a willow
Song sung blue
Sleeping on my pillow
Funny thing, but you can sing it with a cry in your voice
And before you know it, start to feeling good
You simply got no choice
Song sung blue
Everybody knows one
Song sung blue
Every garden grows one
song performed by by Neil Diamond

Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Song Sung Blue
Written by: neil diamond
Song sung blue
Everybody knows one
Song sung blue
Every garden grows one
Me and you are subject to the blues now and then
But when you take the blues and make a song
You sing them out again
Sing them out again
Song sung blue
Weeping like a willow
Song sung blue
Sleeping on my pillow
Funny thing, but you can sing it with a cry in your voice
And before you know it, start to feeling good
You simply got no choice
Song sung blue
Everybody knows one
Song sung blue
Every garden grows one
song performed by by Neil Diamond

Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Night Song at Amalfi
I asked the heaven of stars
What I should give my love --
It answered me with silence,
Silence above.
I asked the darkened sea
Down where the fishers go --
It answered me with silence,
Silence below.
Oh, I could give him weeping,
Or I could give him song --
But how can I give silence,
My whole life long?
poem by Sara Teasdale

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Night Song of Amalfi
I asked the heaven of stars
What I should I give my love--
It answered me with silence,
Silence above.
I asked the darkened sea
Down where the fishermen go--
It answered me with silence,
Silence below.
Oh, I could give him weeping,
Or I could give him song--
But how can I give silence
My whole life long?
poem by Sara Teasdale

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Poem of a madman
Who sentenced him to this prison of life
And threw away the key?
Who gave a pair of eyes to a man who cannot see?
A man dazzled by darkness.
A man who listens to laughter and cries.
He sits next to the genius, playing with invisible cards,
And it's no use watching his eyes.
He speaks the language of silence.
Silence, an unexploded bomb in his head.
And love's tear runs down the face of confusion,
Paying debt to emotion felt.
Drowning man, dreams through the day and sleeps through his thoughts.
Then he is dragged from the river of unconsciousness,
To rest on the banks of lonliness and pain,
When will he awake from this nightmare called life,
To the peace of death.
poem by Kevin East

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Song Thats Sung..
A song that's sung
tells more than a story
a song that's sung
is sung from the heart
a song that's sung
is a story from the soul
a song that's sung
is the greatest love
a song that's sung
is a give from above
a song that's sung
is an emotion in a melody
a song that's sung
can be whatever you want it to be
a song that's sung
can have a million meanings
a song that's sung
is a diary of emotions...
poem by Emily Summers

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part III: Gods And False Gods: LXXII
FROM THE FRENCH OF ANVERS
My heart has its secret, my soul its mystery,
A love which is eternal begotten in a day.
The ill is long past healing. Why should I speak to--day?
For none have ears to hear, and, least of all, she.
Alas I shall have lived unseen tho' ever near,
For ever at her side, for ever too alone.
I shall have lived my life unknowing and unknown,
Asking naught, daring naught, receiving naught from her.
And she, whom Heaven made kind and chaste and fair,
Shall go undoubting on, the while upon her way
The murmur of my love shall fill the land,
Till, reading here perchance severe and unaware
These lines so full of her, she shall look up and say
``Who was this woman then?'' and shall not understand.
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
At the close of the day when the hamlet is still, and mortals the sweets of forgetfulness prove, when naught but the torrent is heard on the hill, and naught but the nightingale's song in the grove.
quote by James Beattie

Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The History of Man
The history of man is fraught
With violent conflict, all for naught!
The young and brash each other thrash,
Climbing to the climactic clash!
Wave after wave all churn and lash!
Wave after wave all turn to ash!
So many stabbed, so many shot,
So many murdered, all for naught!
poem by Joshua Dinkin

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Virtue And The Beast
To run, we could from threats besetting us
But naught we do for demons from within
Their obstacles laid on the paths we pass
Dictate the rise and fall our lives contain
Virtue does to a woman bind desire
When dreams of wayward thrills it would suppress
As though alarm when hearts are set afire
It screams out loud should she unzips her dress
Monsters and ghouls are far removed in woods
If there be what the heart so truly dreads
In man is beast lurking in murky moods
Knows many arms and sleeps in many beds.
poem by Reyvrex Questor Reyes

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Love Is Not Love
Love is not love if it comes with thought of condition;
A heart is not alive unless it is capable of submission
To the ardor it holds for another that naught may explain.
Love is not love if but mere time may sustain
Not, the fervor of same-
As though an eternal flame
That is subject to the sands of time;
So long as word, at the hands of rhyme,
May proffer explication of its lasting power,
It shall stand not prey, to the passing hour!
Love is not love if it bends, buckles, or breaks:
Love is subject but to the same it makes
Of another and contrariwise, naught more-
It is not our's to wonder: 'how? ', or 'what for? '.
-Maurice Harris,24 May 2012
poem by Maurice Harris

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Red n' Black
Roses are plucked
every struck of the clock
together we're stuck
in each lives we knock
hearts were filled;
Blood and pure love
The heaven's in calm,
High soaring dove
burgeoning roots and vines
I see naught near goodbyes
matching your soul to mine
creating melodious rhyme
it's a flower that blooms,
Dancing leaves of trees
that in silence, no glooms
like our time seems to freeze..
As the night never came
without grasping my heart to remember
prominent the shame
leaving me totally dismembered
Agony of mine now true to my life
Silver bullet to my wolfy desires
plunged in my back, The man-made knife
Wooden stake to the bosom of vampires
Roses are Black
No more struck for the clock
together we died naught, but thee
I lived and fought; not mine for she
Hearts were emptied;
Null, void, mere hatred
O ~Hell in great tumult
in superior of the cult
Fading memories of undesired origin
drawing points of commencement
varying thoughts never mergin'
getting out of this commitment!
poem by Ellirie Aviles

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Everyday Story Of Smalltown
Smalltown, snoring under blankets
Woken by the clank
Its just the milkmans dawn round
Smalltown, hiding undercovers
The lodgers and the lovers
Are asleep round smalltown
Shiney grey black snake of bikes
He slithers
Bearing up the men and boys
To work
Were standing in poplar lines
Making alarm clocks thatll wake our wives up
Dont ask us, we havent the time
Were racing the hooter thatll signal lifes up
Smalltown, crouching in the valley
Woken by the sally army
Sunday marchround
Smalltown, coughing in the toilet
Who on earth would spoil it
Would they pull down smalltown?
If its all the same to you
Mrs progress
Think Ill drink my oxo up
And get away
Its not that youre repulsive to see
In your brand new catalogue nylon nightie
Youre too fast for little old me
Next youll be telling me its 1990
I have lived here for a thousand years or maybe more
And Ive sheltered all the children who have fought the wars
And as payment they make love in me
In squeaky beds
In bicycle sheds
Inside of their heads
As singles and weds
As tories and reds
And thats how Im fed
And thats how Im fed
Smalltown, snoring under blankets
Woken by the clank
Its just the milkmans dawn round
Smalltown, hiding undercovers
The lodgers and the lovers
Are asleep round smalltown
Smalltown, crouching in the valley
Woken by the sally army
Sunday marchround
Smalltown, coughing in the toilet
Now who on earth would spoil it
Will you pull down smalltown
Smalltown
Smalltown
song performed by by Xtc

Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Silence.....
silent thoughts
silent dreams
silent horrors
silent screams
silent pains
silent refrains
The cold black
silence attracts
silent wisdom
silent thoughts
A want for more is what silence sings
but is love on the menu, all but contiversy
butnow have u realized wat silence can bring?
hopless insanity if u can read....
sound is wats need to go through life
but all awhile silence is that unwinnable fight
push with all ur power
hope with all ur dreams
but you get no second chance
you only deserve screams
but those screams are silent, hopeless....
insanity........
poem by Tommie Cobb

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Silence 1.
Most times when I'm hurt,
My silence speaks for me.
She speaks very loud;
Even louder than a megaphone.
I choose to be silent, -
When most things happen,
Not because I cannot speak;
Nor that my words have evaded me,
But because in my silence-
There's a challenging power.
Sometimes in my fears,
When my heart is filled with love,
And my eyes with tears;
I learn to love, just like a dove.
My mouth moves to speak,
But is suddenly cut short by silence,
Silence in love, silence in fear.
Silence in tears, silence in joy;
And when I'm in this mood,
My silence stands so tall-
Even taller than a giant;
She makes her way; -
Even more than spoken words.
Spoken words of loud emotions,
They meet my silence-
And they tremble in awe.
I could hear those words;
They say to themselves,
'How art silence so mighty? '.
poem by Echezonachukwu Nduka

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sweet Silence Speaks
At the brink of the midnight
When every mortal sleeps
When voices turn their faces
Then the sweet silence speaks
With the onset of the moonlight
Slowly deserting the streets
When the noises are duped
Then the sweet silence speaks
When the zephyrs are high
At the snow covered peaks
And the voices get numb
Then the sweet silence speaks
I desperately wait to meet her
Through days and all through the weeks
I really die to hear her voice
And then the sweet silence speaks
Through an edge of a dream
When my sweety slowly peaks
All of a sudden I wake up
When the sweet silence speaks
poem by Sumeet Mukherjee

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Dream Song I
Long years ago, within a distant clime,
Ere Love had touched me with his wand sublime,
I dreamed of one to make my life's calm May
The panting passion of a summer's day.
And ever since, in almost sad suspense,
I have been waiting with a soul intense
To greet and take unto myself the beams,
Of her, my star, the lady of my dreams.
O Love, still longed and looked for, come to me,
Be thy far home by mountain, vale, or sea.
My yearning heart may never find its rest
Until thou liest rapt upon my breast.
The wind may bring its perfume from the south,
Is it so sweet as breath from my love's mouth?
Oh, naught that surely is, and naught that seems
May turn me from the lady of my dreams.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!