Tzilla
Cellar blooming hours
Bestial bloom darkness creeps
A sub cellar flower sleeps
A sleep of earthly flowers
Celestial twinkling toys
‘Tis Tzilla, horrified recoils
Floor doors open quickly slips
All tongues broken on her lips
Festina festina Cellestina
Delirious darkness bound
Sub cellar Luna found
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Speak? Not I.
You turn your back and walk away
Refuse to speak or even take the calls
A lonely existence ensues
Your mind convincing you it's right
Your heart locked down in cellar tight
A silence that can deafen it's call is so loud
Yet pride won't have it any other way,
A right of passage for your generation
How dare parents stop your celebration
You will show them.
But filter out the background noise
That pride can lift as if a veil on truth
Listen with all your might, listen,
For just a split second you may catch
A sobbing sound that you can match,
Another heart in cellar bound.
And so the madness of silence continues.
Pride has won the day.
poem by Dave James
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Mystery Written
it is the mystery written
in the bed of pine needles,
in the broken branch,
in the bad place in the road.
in the hours between 3 and 4 in the morning,
when the spirit grieves itself with prayer.
in the cool of the darkness,
in the window cracked.
in the homeless dog's eyes,
as he stands in the road.
in the box unopened for twenty years,
in the eviction notice,
and the lights cut off.
in the kerosene heater,
and potatoes strewn in the cellar.
in the tear in the sheet,
in worn out shoes.
in love lost in waiting,
adrift, searching for a light.
in the answer that smells like dawn,
and the smell of strong coffee!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Some men will build a wine cellar when they have found just one grape.
Hope
an angel a bridge
of heart
Darkness Darkness Darkness Darkness Darkness Darkness Darkness Darkness Darkness Darkness Darkness Darkness Darkness Darkness
Darkness Darkness Darkness Darkness Darkness Darkness Darkness
Darkness Darkness Darkness Darkness Darkness Darkness Darkness
Darkness Darkness Darkness Darkness Darkness Darkness Darkness
Darkness Darkness Darkness Darkness Darkness Darkness Darkness
a light
of humanity tree
Tag, You're It
Let's assume
That he's the groom
And he's been waiting
To consummate all night
And you're the bride
You're locked tight
Inside the bathroom
And you're overcome with freight
Now here's the chiller
He's the killer
You've discovered
You're trapped, alone, you're scared
We cut to you, we move in close
You're catatonic
You get a close up there
And in this shot
Here's what we got
He breaks the door down
And tears your nightgown lace
You see a can, it's aerosol
You grab the hair spray
And light it in his face
There's a very hungry man in the cellar
Oh, waiting
Or is he in the attic closet
Waiting
Debbie? I like this game.
Debbie?
Debbie? Debbie? Debbie?
He blindly grabs you
Tries to stab you
But you're quicker
You over act right here
You see a cat, a ball of yarn
A knitting needle
His vision's still not clear
He's stumbling 'round
Don't make a sound
And then he grabs you
"Hide and seek, my dear?"
He shifts his glance
You see your chance
You grab the needle and you
You plunge it in his ear
There's a very hungry man in the cellar
Oh, waiting
Or is he in the attic closet
Waiting
There's a very hungry man in the cellar
Oh, waiting
Or is he in the attic closet
Waiting
And just like the scene
In "Halloween"
You think it's all over
And you're gazing into space
But you got to make sure
You hear something, you start to turn
And you're standing there frozen
Staring him face to face
And he looks at you and says
"Tag, you're it, Sweetie
Bye, Debbie. Debbie, Debbie, Debbie.
Goodbye, Debbie...
song performed by by Alice Cooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Cellar
I’ve been a prisoner in this smelly unlit cellar for three days now,
I’ve got to try and find a way out, but I don’t know how.
With nothing to eat or drink since I was thrown into this place
I’m beginning to see weird things that are not common place.
My foot keeps being touched and I think it might be a rat,
and right now a rat could be a meal, and I could go for that.
If it touches me again I’ll try and catch it, and bite off its head;
what am I thinking about I couldn’t eat a rat, I’d rather be dead.
I’ve got to eat or drink something before I go completely mad
and when I think more about it, that rat doesn’t seem so bad.
I can see large silver coloured spiders crawling up the wall,
I’ll see if I can catch one... Damn it! I’m much too small.
Let’s face it I’m going to die in this damp, darker than night cellar,
all because of my lust for a woman, and her psychotic fella.
She teased and seduced me, and her boyfriend wasn’t too pleased,
when he entered the room and caught us at it, with me on my knees.
He must have hit my head really hard to have knocked me out,
and now I’m in this cellar where no one can hear me shout.
What happened to his gorgeous girl friend I just don’t know,
maybe they rode off into the night after leaving me so?
I’m sick of just sitting here; I’ll hunt for that rat around the floor,
maybe I’ll get lucky and find it, or something else to gnaw.
Oh my God! I can feel something lying by the side of the wall..,
I reckon it’s the girl; she’s stone cold, and been tied up in a ball.
I can feel deep into her skull and she’s still tacky with blood.
If I’m to survive I may have to eat her… No! I never could..,
but if I don’t I will die of starvation.., a slow agonising death...
I can smell her blood on my fingers, and taste it on my breath.
I feel ashamed having to eat raw human flesh to stay alive,
but I would feel worse if people knew, and I didn’t die.
I can hear that rat gnawing away on the guy’s dead girlfriend.
Will I be the rat’s last meal..? Is that how it all will end?
poem by Orlando Belo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Born in a cellar... and living in a garret.
quote by Samuel Foote
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When I am in the cellar of affliction, I look for the Lord's choicest wines.
quote by Samuel Rutherford
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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They can do without architecture who have no olives nor wines in the cellar.
quote by Henry David Thoreau
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If you have a good cellar at home don't go drinking at the tavern.
If Vincent begins to flow, then the cellar will be full.
Some men build a wine cellar after only finding one grape.
The Face Of Ponder
the classic one
naked, butt on a rock
legs extended
body sits and hands
supporting the jaw
like a pillar
to a cellar
got one today
with my glasses on
i stare to the sea
amidst the storm
with my window
open
i am not naked
nay,
i am fully dressed
without any plan of going
to any place
my hands hold the frame
my feet rooted on the floor
my soul like water inside a glass
overflowing
i am emptying
because i am full.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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As against having beautiful workshops, studios, etc., one writes best in a cellar on a rainy day.
quote by Van Wyck Brooks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When the wine runs to waste in the cellar, he mends the cask.
When I first came down stairs, for two or three minutes I went down cellar to the water closet.
quote by Lizzie Andrew Borden
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Spending your money with many a guest, empties the kitchen, the cellar and chest.
Even the potatoes in the cellar can feel spring setting in.
aphorism by Valeriu Butulescu from Immensity of the Point, translated by Eva A. Ziem
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Darkness Of...
Darkness is not the darkness of night
it is the darkness of mind and soul.
darkness is not the darkness of night,
it is the darkness of discrimination between poor and rich.
darkness is not the darkness of night,
it is the darkness of dishonesty.
darkness is not the darkness of night,
it is the darkness of aggravate.
darkness is not the darkness of night,
it is darkness of corruption.
darkness is not the darkness of night,
it is the darkness of indiscipline.
darkness is not the darkness of night,
it is the darkness of animosity.
darkness is not the darkness of night,
it is the darkness of inveterate.
darkness is not the darkness of night,
it is the darkness of perjury.
darkness is not the darkness of night,
it is the darkness that we all brought up inside us,
so, light the lamp of light inside you...
poem by Suniya Garg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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