A Family Of Seven
I have heard “The mirror tells not a lie, ’
I assuming myself the gorgeous one
Abased in front of the looking-glass.
I was one but the reflections were seven
I was baffled either one was in seven or seven were in one,
The images were mix: male and female,
They all bore my bearings but deformed and mortified
And bore the signs of identity on the chests.
A reflection had razor-sharp teeth, the front ones quite naked,
Black dishevelled hair it had, and fingers with long nails,
And mouth with dots of blood and bore a sign of identity,
“Miss. Ferocity.”
Another image stood along with severity upon the face,
The eyes were reddish-brown and the forehead screwed up,
Upon the head it had a burnished crown,
Not of gold but of iron or steel,
The image bore the symbol of individuality, “Mr. Pride.”
An image resembling me bore the impressions slack,
Yawned time and again with the sleepy eyes,
Restless she was as if being delayed to go to bed,
She did not seem to have interest except in comforts,
The badge on her chest named her, “Miss Lethargy.”
An over-fattened bulky stout figure
Stood, pressing others with her weight,
She inhaled her breath snorting through the nostrils,
And looked with avaricious eyes around herself,
As if she looked for a feast to be nourished,
Time and again she swabbed her dry lips with the tongue,
The contents of her identity showed, she was “Miss. Gluttony.”
A covetous being stood along with a crown of gold,
Her costume was costly well embroidered
With the thread golden and silvery,
Her pockets were loose but filled with the coins,
She had along a handbag overflowing weighty
As if spilling over with costly stones,
She bore the mark exhibiting her name, “Miss Greed.”
A slim smart, sable in colour stood along, a creature,
She scowled when the other stood beside her,
Black flies hummed around her head,
As gloomy thoughts surround the murky minds.
She was a bag of bones, she breathed out a blaze
When she exhaled as if furnace burnt in her chest,
She seemed to have no pleasure since she was born,
And did not taste a worthwhile feeling except scorn,
She was known amid the figures, “Miss Jealousy.”
A strengthless figure with close eyes stood propped,
Leaning against the wall, seemed to be in slumber
Since centuries, I might have assumed him dead
If he would not have breathed with faint grunt,
He bore the sign of his character, “Mr. Conscience.”
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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Related quotes
The Last Evening
And night and distant rumbling; now the army's
carrier-train was moving out, to war.
He looked up from the harpsichord, and as
he went on playing, he looked across at her
almost as one might gaze into a mirror:
so deeply was her every feature filled
with his young features, which bore his pain and were
more beautiful and seductive with each sound.
Then, suddenly, the image broke apart.
She stood, as though distracted, near the window
and felt the violent drum-beats of her heart.
His playing stopped. From outside, a fresh wind blew.
And strangely alien on the mirror-table
stood the black shako with its ivory skull.
Translated by Stephen Mitchell
poem by Rainer Maria Rilke
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What of that morning that lied astray
In pitiless bottom of an outbreak quiver
Spilling its ashes on a transparent tray
Remorseless in the eyes of a believer
I stood still gazed atom edged and cut
In a drawing nigh all blurred clouded smudged
I stood still astounded with no sound but
A message bottled world that bore no grudge
Against the ruins closing of its own
Against an abyss of all the things known
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Missing You
I miss your kisses
I miss the warmth of your body
I miss the feeling i get
When I look into your eyes
I miss the way you feel in my arms
The smile you put on my face
Every day
I miss the beat of your heart on my chest
I miss you baby
You is my heart not was
Without you
I can not live
poem by Curtis Brown
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My Love In A Mirror
She stood there
looking at herself...
at the beauty God bestowed on her
in front of this mirror
I stood behind her, wrapping my soul around her
my dark brown arms against her pale skin,
covering her nakedness
in front of this mirror
Our bodies stirred, feeling the fire
remembering our lovemaking earlier,
and previous times we have stood here
in front of this mirror
Like this very moment, her eyes
arresting me, her soul possessing me,
the warmth of my body against hers
in front of this mirror
poem by Pablo Loves Life
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May (As Well Kiss Me)
She walks over to me
And talks to my ear like Im worth it
And Im crazy
She follows me around
And I think I made a big mistake
And now I cant sleep
Because I am trapped inside my head
I dont want to be alone
And Im all about you
Because I miss you
I need your love
Im bleeding for you
I am a wreck
And now Im a drunk again
Escaping sobrietys demons
Because they bore me
I know its all of my fault
The princesss eyes meet my liars eyes
And I m content
Because I just need to be with you
Angels bowing down to you
And Im all about you
Because I miss you
I need your love
Im bleeding for you
I am a wreck
I need you here with me
Its empty without you here
I feel isolated, frustrated
And I will see you again
I cut myself again
I deserve all the pain
Help me and Im trying
Dreams and reality conflict
And Im in the middle
May I kiss you?
Because I remember how you feel
I feel warm when you are near
And Im all about you
Because I miss you
I need your love
Im bleeding for you
I am a wreck
I miss you
Yes I miss you
I need your love
Im screaming, bleeding for you
I am a wreck
song performed by by Inme
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I miss u
I miss u in the mirror as it does not reflect u in my eyes
I miss u in my arm when I feel I am alone in the shades
I miss u when a girl shys
I miss u when a bird flies
I miss u when rain starts toopur toopur
I miss u when I heard leafs mutter
I miss u seeing a purple saree
I miss u seeing a talking eye
I miss u in a pic standing like a queen
I miss u serving a chat for u and me
I miss u in my arms
I miss u in my nights
I miss u when oggy runs after cockroaches
I miss u when bacardi and bear flashes
I miss u in the late night thinking of the old times
I miss u searching for help on new reciepies
I miss u when I see the phone ringing but its not a call of yours
I miss u when I try to call u but cut it as u r busy in urs
I miss u in facebook
I miss u in every book
poem by Rajnish Jena
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Janice and You and the Spider
You stood
in the playground
of St Jude's school
which was really
the basement
of a bombed out house
which had been gutted
and the basement tarmaced
and the walls
were still there
where kids climbed up
and around
the thin ledge
when Janice
put her hands
over your eyes
and said
guess who?
and you put
your hands
into the pockets
of your short trousers
and said
Miss Murphy
or Miss Ashdown?
no
Janice said
it's me
and she removed
her hands
from over your eyes
and you turned around
and looked at her
and she had
her red beret on
and a pink scarf
around her neck
to keep out
the cold
you must
have known
it was me
she said
who else
would put their hands
over your eyes?
her eyes were bright
and you thought
you could see yourself
in them
as if they were small mirrors
Jupp might do
or maybe Carmody
you said smiling
she didn't smile back
but pulled her lips
tight in a line
then she took your hand
and pulled you
along the path
that led
to the school toilets
and pushed you
inside a cubicle
and shut the door
behind you both
and said
don't you love me?
there was a large spider
hanging from
the cistern chain
close to
her red beret
and it hung there
suspended
swaying back
and forth
and you said
of course I do
right down
to your white socks
but there's a spider
above your head
and she looked up
and screamed
and a voice
outside the door
asked
are you all right
in there?
Janice's eyes widened
and she watched
as the spider
moved up the chain
and she said
yes it's all right
Miss Murphy
just a small spider
and you stood there
next to Janice
wondering what
Miss Murphy
would say
if she saw you
and Janice
in the lavatory
together
and the voice said
ok as long
as you
are all right
and the footsteps
moved away
and Janice took
your hand in hers
and you sensed
how cold it was
slightly blue
and it was just
9 year old Janice
and the big spider
and 9 year old you.
poem by Terry Collett
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Ceyx and Alcione I
Ceyx (pronounced SAY-ex) was a bright darkness upon the earth, being the son of a star. His father, who nobody had ever seen by day, had been king of a distant realm. But he was visible in the night sky from which he shone brilliantly, clear to anyone who looked. True, he had been thrown out of his kingdom for discretionary reasons by the God-King because he was ambitious and loved things rather than ideas. To what extant this defect came to inhabit his son Ceyx is vague-maybe it did and maybe it didn't. You would not like to meet him in a dark alley, though, by the looks of him, for a paradoxical darkness enveloped him, born from so bright a source, that you might think would make the going tough.
His thick eyebrows arched darkly over fine, onyx-black eyes that burned like the star they were born from, fringed with leaf-like lashes that all but bore dates. His mouth was full and his teeth looked better than they were. His head was well-sculpted and his chin was, like glass, richly cleft. A length of neck bore his head up smartly. The head itself was covered with shiney, straight black hair, that fell over his sloping forehead in bangs, unless he had recently cut it. Only his nose was a little large.
He was married to a king's daughter named Alcione, (pronounced Hal-SEE-oh-nee) , whose father was named Aeolus (pronounced HAY-oh-luss) . He happened to be king of the winds, no easy job. His was to command the whistling winds from his citadel off the coast of Sicily-why there, God only knows, but the space was available, so he took it.
Alcione, his daughter, ....
poem by Morgan Michaels
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Forgive Me For....... Ever Being Born
Oh I'm sorry
yes I'm sorry
that you gave the world me
that you even bore me
an ugly face that would break all glass simultaneously
even the ugliest of beast hides
and the fiercest beast cringe
'what an ugly soul' they say
I'm sorry
yes I'm sorry
that you ever bore me
its okay
you can hit me
mark me
you cant make my soul any uglier then it already is
yes I'm sorry
that you ever bore me
saw my horrendous face and soul
yes I'm sorry,
I am so sorry
forgive me for ever being born mother and father
poem by Alizia Sampson
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I Miss You Mom
I miss you mom I miss your laugh I miss the talks we had
I miss the feeling that everything isn't so bad
I hear your voice I remember those light blue eyes
I need you mom and all I have is what's memorized
What is one to do
When all is lost and so are you
Yea at times I talk to you but I still feel this deep despair
Especially when the world around me is just me looking in the mirror
You were there for a moment then gone like a dream with no end
Left to figure out what happens next and if I'll ever see you again
I miss you mom
poem by Sabrina Freeman
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I Miss
I miss
I miss the way you say my name
I miss your smile
I miss the way you make me feel
I miss you
I miss the sparkle in your eyes
I miss the love you had for me
I miss having your shoulder to cry on
I miss your arms around me
I miss the way you make me smile
I miss the way you hug me
I miss the way we always met
I miss everything about you
I miss your warmth
I miss the love raidiating from you
I miss the softness of your lips
I miss you
poem by Kalista Mccart
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Over The Falls
They broke out in laughter again,
His lip beaded with sweat as they strapped him in,
And he stood by and waited to be called.
The talk was of times that had gone by
And the quantity and quality of women they lie.
His eyes welled with wet and his mouth had gone dry.
As he stood by and waited to be called.
He stood by and waited to be called.
He stood by and waited like the others before
For his turn to go over the falls.
He got up and tried it again.
For lack of persistence is surely a sin.
As he stood by and waited to be called,
He looked to the lightning with glee
And admired his vessel for its symmetry,
Feeling twelve units shy of a bachelors degree.
As he stood by and waited to be called.
He stood by and waited to be called.
He stood by and waited like the others before
For his turn to go over the falls.
song performed by by Primus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Thank For Nothing
I'll never take part in the grown population
Or waste my time with further education (hooha!)
To get what we know, is just a big show
Where they want to control
So chained and frustrated
It's all so complicated
Fashion, no passion surrounds me
All I know is I've heard this all before
Reality's a bore (is a bore)
You ask me to believe it (never believe)
Something they provide
Can't bring myself to, to what
You want me to (want me to)
This is who we are and (who we are)
nothing's gonna change, nothing's gonna change
I can't take part in the business revolution
Or take my chance in the real world confusion
Don't blame us, who do we trust when they're so dis-a-honest
No patience, this nation's obsessed with exploitation
Lying, denying surrounds me
All I know is I've heard this all before
Reality's a bore (is a bore)
You ask me to believe it (never believe)
Something they provide
Can't bring myself to, to what
You want me to (want me to)
This is who we are and (who we are)
Nothing's gonna change
(what!) Don't think you can ignore us (ignore us)
Don't tell me your word is right (word is right)
Don't pick a future for us (for us)
We lack 'cause we're involved!!
All I know is I've heard this all before
Reality's a bore (is a bore)
You ask me to believe it (never believe)
Something they provide
Can't bring myself to, to what
You want me to (want me to)
This is who we are and (who we are)
Nothing's gonna change
Thanks for nothing (I've heard this all before),
Thanks for nothing (reality's a bore),
Thanks for nothing (it'll never be the same),
Thanks for nothing (and nothing's gonna change)
song performed by by Sum 41
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fastlove
Looking for some education
Made my way into the night
All that bullshit conversation
Well baby cant you read the signs
I wont bore you with the details baby
I dont even want to waste your time
Lets just say that maybe
You could help to ease my mind
Baby, I aint mr. right
Chorus
But if youre looking for fastlove
If thats love in your eyes
Its more than enough
Had some bad luck
So fastlove is all that Ive got on my mind
Whats there to think about baby?
Looking for some affirmation
Made my way into the night
My friends got their ladies
Theyre all having babies
But I just want to have some fun
I wint bore you with the details baby
Gonna get there in your own sweet time
Lets just say that maybe
You could help to ease my mind
Baby, I aint mr. right
Chorus
Whats there to think about baby?
Get yourself some lessons in love
In the absence of security
I made my way into the night
Stupid cupid keeps on calling me
But I see nothing in his eyes
I miss my baby
I miss my baby, tonight
So why dont we make a little room
In my bmw babe
Searching for some peace of mind
I help you find it
I do believe that we are practicing
The same religion
You really ought to get up now
Looking for some affirmation?
song performed by by George Michael
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Know the audience
The elaboration will bore the intellectuals.
The technical will bore the common folks.
The romance will bore the kids
Deliveries of speech must suit the recipients
02.01.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Watching The Crows
A bushman got lost in a scrub in the North,
And all the long morning the searchers went forth.
They swore at the rain that had washed out the tracks
And left not a trace for the eyes of the blacks;
But, trusting the signs that the blackfellow knows,
A quiet old darkey stood watching the crows.
The solemn old blackman stood silently by;
He stood like a statue, his face to the sky.
Black Billy was out of the bearings—we thought—
If he looked above for the bushman we sought;
For we rather suspected the spirit would go
In—well, quite another direction, you know.
Most bushmen on solemn occasions will joke,
And unto Black Bill ’twas the super who spoke.
He asked, as he cocked his red nose in the air—
“You think it old Harrison sit down up there?”
“I’m watching the crows. Where the white man lies dead
The crows will fly over,” the blackfellow said.
The blackfellow died, and long years have gone round
Since the day when old Harrison’s body was found;
But still do I see, in my vision at night,
A faint figure come like a shadow in sight,
And nearer and nearer it comes till it grows
Like the form of that blackfellow—“watching the crows”.
poem by Henry Lawson
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Mary and Gabriel
Young Mary, loitering once her garden way,
Felt a warm splendour grow in the April day,
As wine that blushes water through. And soon,
Out of the gold air of the afternoon,
One knelt before her: hair he had, or fire,
Bound back above his ears with golden wire,
Baring the eager marble of his face.
Not man's nor woman's was the immortal grace
Rounding the limbs beneath that robe of white,
And lighting the proud eyes with changeless light,
Incurious. Calm as his wings, and fair,
That presence filled the garden.
She stood there,
Saying, 'What would you, Sir?'
He told his word,
'Blessed art thou of women!' Half she heard,
Hands folded and face bowed, half long had known,
The message of that clear and holy tone,
That fluttered hot sweet sobs about her heart;
Such serene tidings moved such human smart.
Her breath came quick as little flakes of snow.
Her hands crept up her breast. She did but know
It was not hers. She felt a trembling stir
Within her body, a will too strong for her
That held and filled and mastered all. With eyes
Closed, and a thousand soft short broken sighs,
She gave submission; fearful, meek, and glad. . . .
She wished to speak. Under her breasts she had
Such multitudinous burnings, to and fro,
And throbs not understood; she did not know
If they were hurt or joy for her; but only
That she was grown strange to herself, half lonely,
All wonderful, filled full of pains to come
And thoughts she dare not think, swift thoughts and dumb,
Human, and quaint, her own, yet very far,
Divine, dear, terrible, familiar . . .
Her heart was faint for telling; to relate
Her limbs' sweet treachery, her strange high estate,
Over and over, whispering, half revealing,
Weeping; and so find kindness to her healing.
'Twixt tears and laughter, panic hurrying her,
She raised her eyes to that fair messenger.
He knelt unmoved, immortal; with his eyes
Gazing beyond her, calm to the calm skies;
Radiant, untroubled in his wisdom, kind.
His sheaf of lilies stirred not in the wind.
How should she, pitiful with mortality,
Try the wide peace of that felicity
With ripples of her perplexed shaken heart,
And hints of human ecstasy, human smart,
And whispers of the lonely weight she bore,
And how her womb within was hers no more
And at length hers?
Being tired, she bowed her head;
And said, "So be it!"
The great wings were spread
Showering glory on the fields, and fire.
The whole air, singing, bore him up, and higher,
Unswerving, unreluctant. Soon he shone
A gold speck in the gold skies; then was gone.
The air was colder, and grey. She stood alone.
poem by Rupert Brooke (1912)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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I Miss The Rain
i miss the sun shining face in my life
it was disappear for long time
i miss the smile on your face before
i do have for who smile for me
i miss the kiss of sweet lips feelings
who loved me as much as i want
i miss the tears of eyes when i'm cried
and someone make me smile and naughty
i miss the rain when we are together
i miss the rain when we have dance
with u in nights when rain..
i miss the sky of clouds and thunder too
bcaz you embarrassed me soo..
i miss the touch your lovely fingers
i miss the touch of one big lover..
i feels it and i wants it..too..
but it is not possible in this way
only possible in haven and 7th heaven
poem by Khushi throne
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The Great Gunfighters (Fun Poem 70)
They stood facing each other in the street;
each had a revolver strapped to their hip.
They stood with their legs apart
as their hand hovered above their holster.
Each looked into the others eyes,
a blink by either of them
could bring on a draw.
However, the guns they used
weren’t as accurate as some would believe;
they probable miss each other completely.
So much for some of the great gunfighters
as most earned their reputations
by shooting someone in the back.
11 February 2007
poem by David Harris
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A Dream
Alongside the wide gray road stood I,
To watch a procession passed by,
Of the damsels, rather all in teen,
Of the same size height and colour,
The bulk and body; dressed in green,
But all bore the features quite different.
Drenched them the incessant rain;
They passed and passed by jostling,
In silence in rows long, unendingly,
Numerous, countless were they all,
Neither worried, nor did seem happy;
Glanced they at me with stealing looks,
And I stood silent with lowering eyes,
Peeping into innerself like a criminal,
When brought among the fellow men.
It confounds, troubles me when I think,
Whether their plight was shown to me,
Or mine to them, I could not decide.
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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