The Vase
The 'vase', (baa'se)
Flowerful;
roses and five petal white
So odious
a Grecian urn
In 14K kissed lips,
blackened body
shouting white
unidentifiable flowers
Standing unpretentiously
on the middle
of the table
Proclaiming the world is Flatt
'don't go too far!
'or you'll go over the edge.'
poem by Midnights Voice

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Related quotes
To Muriel: at the Opera
Roses and rose-buds, red and white,
Nestled between your breasts to-night,
And, lying there with drowsy breath,
Sweetly resigned themselves to death.
Ah, cruel child! that would not so
Suffer the perfumed life to go,
But, hungering for the rose's heart
Of midmost sweetness, plucked apart
Petal from petal: 'Ah!' you said
(With lips that kissed white roses red)
'To live on love and roses!'
Well,
But if the rose were Muriel?
poem by Arthur Symons

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And Then I Remember The White Roses
suddenly what flashed to my mind
on a gray afternoon, so vivid are the white roses
a bouquet of white roses
assuring me once again, after 13 years
that your love is pure, despite
that you have remained to be true
no matter what, despite the odds
and then i have seen how each petal of the white roses
fell one by one under our feet, we feel the loss again.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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The Anonymous Flowers
someone anonymous sends the flowers
all white
and we who receive them are all
in guesses
for whom?
and since we do not know for whom for sure
we leave the flowers
a bouquet of flowers on the table
and no one puts it inside a vase
they all wilt for no one cared
to put water on the leaves
it is like love that you give to everyone
and none in particular
when that love goes away
no one weeps.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Blue Roses
Roses red and roses white
Plucked I for my love's delight.
She would none of all my posies--
Bade me gather her blue roses.
Half the world I wandered through,
Seeking where such flowers grew.
Half the world unto my quest
Answered me with laugh and jest.
Home I came at wintertide,
But my silly love had died
Seeking with her latest breath
Roses from the arms of Death.
It may be beyond the grave
She shall find what she would have.
Mine was but an idle quest--
Roses white and red are best!
poem by Rudyard Kipling

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Venus in the Garden
'Twas at early morning,
The dawn was blushing in her purple bed,
When in a sweet, embowered garden
She, the fairest of the goddesses,
The lovely Venus,
Roamed amongst the roses white and red.
She sought for flowers
To make a garland
For her golden head.
Snow-white roses, blood-red roses,
In that sweet garden close,
Offered incense to the goddess:
Both the white and the crimson rose.
White roses, red roses, blossoming:
But the fair Venus knew
The crimson roses had gained their hue
From the hearts that for love had bled;
And the goddess made a garland
Gathered from the roses red.
poem by James Weldon Johnson

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Blackened...
blackened steel...
blackened faces,
blackened hearts,
blackened roads...
blackened eyes,
blackened dreams,
blackened prayers,
blackened gods...
blackened memories,
blackened fingers,
blackened windows,
blackened rooms...
blackened thoughts,
blackened nails,
blackened shovels,
blackened tomb!
poem by Eric Cockrell

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Standing On The Edge
In the middle of the night
I had a vision
It was bigger than life
Standing on the edge of my bed
She said come here, dont be afraid
Her tongue opened like a shot
Oh bang bang
Ten feet tall, laser eyes
Killer body, killer thighs
She drew me a fine line
Whats wrong whats right
I didnt know what to think
She seemed to know what to drink
I was stunned by her gun
Couldnt walk, couldnt run
Well she drew me a picture
And it seemed so true
Standing on the edge
And watching my life flash by
Standing on the edge
Shes lookin right through my eyes
Love is passin by
Right before my eyes
And Im wondering why
Whats the reason
That Im standing on the edge
Standing on the edge
Standing on the edge
Right here in my face
I had a vision
That was bigger than life
Oh connie likes nighttime, every night
Connie likes candy, every bite
All day sucker, connie might
Swallow that thing cause she does it right
Im weak in the knees
Im beggin you please
Just ask for more
She just wants affection
My soldiers at attention
No I dont know
Why youre doin this to me
Standing on the edge
And watching my life flash by
Standing on the edge
Shes lookin right through my eyes
Love is passin by
Right before my eyes
And Im wondering why
Whats the reason
That Im standing on the edge
Standing on the edge
Standing on the edge
Well she told me
In the biblical sense
And she told me
In the strictest confidence
She told me
We were worlds apart
She told me, she told me
I dont know why Im here
She said, dont be afraid
Standing on the edge
And watching my life flash by
Standing on the edge
Youre lookin right through my eyes
Standing on the edge
Light flashes before my eyes
Standing on the edge
And watchin my world crash by
Love is passing by
Right before my eyes
And I wonder why
Whats the reason
That Im standing on the edge
Standing on the edge
Standing on the edge
Standing on the edge
Standing on the edge
Standing on the edge
Im standing on the edge (repeat and fade)
song performed by by Cheap Trick

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To The Other World
try standing naked by this mirror
see yourself to every detail
look closer to your eyes
count the waves of your eyelashes
open your mouth and see how many teeth you have
all white, pure white lining up on your pink gums
feel your lips with your fingertips
feel the pulp the flesh of the lower lip
to the upper lip
touch your hair
do not imagine them all black
closely they are not at all
move a little bit closer and see your body
this beautiful human body
flesh, contours, curves, some muscles
the whole of your skin wrapping
everything in your body holding them all
nothing falls, on this erect body, this
god before you, standing steel-like with dignity
in front of the mirror
do not claim you have seen your soul with your eyes
do not lie
be honest to yourself now,
alone, you are alone, do not imagine
any god, any soul, any spirit,
just be honest,
touch your body with your hands
feel the joy of having this body
your body, pinch a part of it to feel
not pain, but just to feel that you are alive,
do you ever ask what made these parts stay as one?
look again at the mirror of this stature
your body, it is you, touching your body
take a hammer, and destroy the mirror
shatter everything to pieces
this is the world without a mirror
there is nothing to reflect you now
nothing to imagine, it is you, the real you
do you ever ask now, where is that other world?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Around The World In A Day
Open your heart, open your mind
A train is leaving all day
A wonderful trip through our time
And laughter is all u pay
Around the world in a day
Around the world in a day
Now dig
Loneliness already knows u
There aint no reason 2 stay
Come here and take my hand, Ill show u
I think I know a better way, yall
Around the world in a day
(listen 2 me, babe)
Around the world in a day
(all the babies sing it now)
Ooh-la-la
Ooh-la-la-la-la-la-la
No-sha-sha
No shouting
No shouting
No - no shouting
The little 1 will escort u
2 places within your mind
The former is red, white, and blue
The ladder is purple, come on and climb
Around the world in a day
Around the world in a day
Come on, sing
Around the world in a day
Say papa, I think I wanna dance
(summer she is sweet)
Around the world in a day
Around the world in a day
All the little babies, sing around the world
Around the world in a day
A government of love and music boundless in its unifying power
A nation of alms, the production, sharing ideas, a shower of flowers
song performed by by Prince

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The White Stuff
The white stuff, the white stuff
The first one was a sweet one
Second one was a blast
Soon I finished off the bag, ate em up real fast
You can see em in my teeth
Tell it when I talk
Had so many my pancreas just went into shock
I love the white stuff, baby
In the middle of an oreo
I love the white stuff, baby
Its the most delicious thing I know
Ive had a zillion or two
In my life, theyre so right
My teeth are all rotted clear through
But who cares? what else am I supposed to do?
Oh oh oh-oh-oh, oh oreo
Oh oh oh-oh-oh, the white stuff
Oh oh oh-oh-oh, oh oreo
Whats in the middle? the white stuff
The first time that I tried it
Got a big sugar buzz
Nothing gets me high as that sandwhich cookie does
But I love the filling most
I rub it on my roast
Mix it in with my coffee and spread it on my toast
I love the white stuff, baby
In the middle of an oreo
I love the white stuff, baby
Take some with me everywhere I go
Might get a pimple or two
Well, so what? its all right
Now twinkies and ding dongs wont do
All I need... you know what it is
Oh oh oh-oh-oh, oh oreo
Oh oh oh-oh-oh, the white stuff
Oh oh oh-oh-oh, oh oreo
Oh oh oh-oh-oh, the white stuff
Oh oh oh-oh-oh, oh oreo
Whats in the middle? the white stuff
song performed by by Weird Al Yankovic

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rose
My mother planted roses and seemingly,
They never blossomed.
And twenty years after her death
Amidst grasses, weeds and wildflowers
Grew a white rose,
I am a white rose alone that
My mother never saw or would see-although perhaps
If she went to heaven she
Could possibly look down and
See a white flower blossoming but
Likely, she would not know it was a rose in bloom.
I am that rose that blossomed after
All of the other roses died-
An unexpected ice storm had killed them.
Weeds and wildflowers, were strong enough toSurvive the cold.
Roses are beautiful but delicate-Withering beneath inches of snow.
Amongst every group of living beings
Possibly killed by inclement weather or
Being treated badly and not properly raised or cared for-
Dying with no one trying to save their lives, remains a survivor.
I have been called the white rose, the survivor
Amongst the roses my mother planted,
That had sadly perished-
Today somebody picked me and placed me in a vase upon a table inside their home.
In a few days, my petals shall fall and
I shall be dead, gone, and disposed of.
I am or was a survivor but now I shall perish just as
The other roses in the garden outside-
This only goes to show that nothing lasts forever because of
The spitefulness of others in this cruel world where
Even the strongest and bravest living beings shall
Have their lives snatched away by some malicious other-
Jealousy, thoughtlessness or simply ignorance rules, so that
No matter how strong- nothing or nobody can live forever-
Everybody’s time comes to be amongst the ill- fated departed-
Gone and forever forgotten as a dying rose, its petals wilted and
Scattered in the wind-
Claudia Krizay
poem by Claudia Krizay

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In The Rose Garden
RED roses bright, pink roses and white
That bud and blossom and fall;
The very sight of my heart's delight
Is more than worth them all!
Is worth far more than the whole sweet store
That ever a garden grew--
She plucked the best to die at her breast,
But it laughed and it bloomed anew!
The red rose lay at her lips to-day,
And flushed with the joy thereof;
She said a word that the white rose heard,
And the white rose paled with love.
But the west wind blows, and my lady goes,
And she leaves the world forlorn;
And every rose that the garden grows,
Might just as well be a thorn!
poem by Edith Nesbit

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A White Rose
THE red rose whispers of passion,
And the white rose breathes of love;
O, the red rose is a falcon,
And the white rose is a dove.
But I send you a cream-white rosebud
With a flush on its petal tips;
For the love that is purest and sweetest
Has a kiss of desire on the lips
poem by John Boyle O'Reilly

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A vase of flowers
I saw a vase of purple-pink roses
lying on your dark brown buffet
and simply had to have it.
“Who painted this, ” I immediately enquired
loving the picture more with each look
that I took of it
as it’s not your thing
to paint still life’s with flowers.
“I painted it. It’s like painting pillow slips, ”
you replied and astonished
I looked at it again
and this was on board
and not in water colours
but done with oil paint.
The folds of the cups were edged
in ridges along their lines
using the techniques
of your abstract paintings
and one smaller unopened bud
laid next to the bowl
almost running into your name.
Little pink flowers was in the background
where the transparent vase with green stems
was against the wall on a tiled floor.
[Reference: Vase with roses by Mandi Engelbrecht. (This painting belongs to me.) ]
poem by Gert Strydom

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A Numbered Poem
2. the mantle is heavy in white.
3. the white cup is not fuming.
4. the lover does not come tonight.
5. an empty vase keeps a shallow
6. conversation with the black clock.
7. there is no flower to brighten
8. the night without a tryst.
9. it is the black clock that ticks
10. time.It is this lament. A cup
11. without tea. A vase without
12. a rose, a daffodil, a white lily.
13. the black clock ticks. There
14. is no hint that it will stop.
That big shell knows it all.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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storkstill and standing by I
storkstill and standing by I
am standing still in a world
running out of patience I am
silent in a world running out
of spaces I am alone
on a wet black stone
in the middle of white waters
- September 14,1973
poem by Umashankar Manthravadi

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About You Last Night....
i am missing you
For you have accustomed me to a morning conversation
with coffee and
some bread on the table
facing the sea
sunrise lighting our faces
unkempt hair
salty skin
parched lips
over-kissed the night
dreams outpouring
bliss, so much bliss is killing me
and you are there
so silent still
this silence that are like hands caressing my body
my heart is a sleepy dog
resting on the soft white rug
beside the door of
our room...
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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One Day You Dissolve Into Whiteness...
a white car waits for you
at the white side of the road
you are in your white suit
white socks and white shoes
you are white yourself
pale lips and snowy face
dusty eyes, clear tears
falling down to your cheeks
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Your dressing table in the hall
In the house in fifth avenue
I put a small pink white marble table
below a mirror in the corridor
with a bowl with flowers standing on it
that acted as your dressing table
and as a place of display
where I saw your face smiling back at me
while you were doing your hair
teasing with curling tongs
or reflections of the rows of paintings
with the wood floor fading into the distance
and now that mirror and table
is probably still there,
but you are living alone
in that big house
and will never again
smile back into my face.
poem by Gert Strydom

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Last Kiss
I brought a wreath of mistletoe;
To you, a crimson red ribbon;
On the coiled evergreen;
To reignite the memories;
Of that Christmas day;
When we kissed;
Blindly, with our eyes closed.
When my eager lips locked on to yours;
In a moment of uncharted passion;
Our first and our last,
When you dazzled like an angel;
Even with a pale white skin and a white cap on;
In a virgin white gown that kissed your knee cap;
With a rouge that faintly slithered to your lips;
Your last bout of blood;
Rushing for a moment of spontaneous bliss;
As I firmly sat by you that night;
My angel under her sheets;
As her heart let go of my stubborn grip;
To fall in to an eternal slumber.
Now I reminisce our last hours together;
As I lay down the wreath on your tomb stone;
Remembering that night when two bald people kissed;
As the fluorescent lights stumbled, as you crumbled;
To an unforgiving parasite in mutational bliss;
Now I stare one more time at the mistletoe;
As I firmly hold my lips in the wind;
Waiting for you to caress mine one more time;
Before I see you.....
In heaven.
poem by Dilantha Gunawardana

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