Related quotes: On the top of a...

Timeline Of Cosmological Theories Or Sloan Great Wall

On the top of a hill
Tornado of petals

Your wrist
Your elbow
Your ankle
Your distal phalanges

Travelplan
Brooklyn Heights

On a bottom of strings
A harp
Your breath

In the back seat
By the light of the moon
Like a mirror of water
Your wisdom teeth

In a blue beach towel
Tied hands of pianist

poem by Nicolas Grenier
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes

Burning Down

]from the back of my neck, oh oh oh
Wired a glass jaw, oh oh
Plantation burning your boat is coming in
Strum your jews-harp, youre reeking gin
Running water in a sinking boat
Going under but theyve got your goat
Burning down - my hands are tied my feet are bound
Burning down - cant you see that my hands are bound
Johnny mike is reading in the yard
His storys timely, oh oh oh
What river is it anyway, radio
Not in a boat, in your ear
Running water in a sinking boat
Going under but theyve got your goat
Burning down - my hands are tied my feet are bound
Burning down - cant you see that my hands are bound
You pick your island in the sun
Take your island off hes got a gun
Burning down - my hands are tied my feet are bound
Burning down - cant you see that my hands are bound
Hes cooking in the woods, a brush fire in your neck
Feeling mighty mighty, oh oh oh
You can pick your island in the sun
Take your island off hes got a gun
Running water in a sinking boat
Going under but theyve got your goat
Burning down - my hands are tied my feet are bound
Burning down - cant you see that my hands are bound

song performed by by REM
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My emerald dreams

The rain falling down for whispering my silence
That silence breaking my emerald dreams.
And those clearview shields with rising bubbles and flutes of renaissance
The rain falling down onto our round stones, keeping our kisses,
Coming down onto petals....

Those petals more than yellow sun...

Those petals of the sweet lemon flower,
Blooming as doves that fly in clouds...

And those birds searching their freedom in the unlimited horizon...

Your eyes water, thinking of me
Allowing the door to be left open
While allowing viewing through the window from the inside....
Feeling the sun growing cooler,
Understanding your passion of flame.....

Trying to milk it - drink from it-deeply
Trying to feel its flow
Between your lips and my hair...

Moving the middle to the top,
self- fashioning moving to the bottom as well...

Feeling the blazing hot sun
And the light
As it waits within
And at the end the avid breath
Draining this light inside each other
Like the moon shining inside of the sun....

Hands passing of time
With your smile...
With dedication...
Is It Poetry? Yes, it is......

poem by Marieta Maglas
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Here Comes The Moon

Everybodys talking up a storm
Act like they dont notice it
But here it is and here it comes . . .
Here comes the moon, the moon, the moon, the moon, the moon.
Impulse always quickens when its full
As it turns my head around me
Yes it does and here it comes
Here comes the moon, the moon, the moon, the moon, the moon.
Gods gift I see thats moving up there into the night . . .
Though dark the mirror in the sky reflects us our light:
Looks like a little brother to the sun
Or mother to the stars at night
And here it is and here it comes
Here comes the moon, the moon, the moon, the moon, the moon.
Breath is always taken when its new
Enhance upon the clouds around it
Yes it is and here it comes
Here comes the moon, the moon, the moon.

song performed by by George Harrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Anne and the Boys's Bath Night

It was the boys' bath night
and you had bathed
and were drying yourself

with the white towel
they had given you
when the bathroom door flew open

and Anne stood there one-legged
in her pink flowered nightdress
perching on her crutches like a hawk

her eyes bright and dark
a smile lingering on her lips
well bugger me

she said
what a sight
for a girl's lovesick eyes

and she entered the bathroom
and pushed the door shut
behind her with her bottom

almost uncrutching herself
in the process
you pulled the towel

tight around you
and stared at her
it's the boys' bath night

you muttered
girls aren't allowed in
while boys bath

she moved over
to the mirror
and gazed at herself

you're right
she said
I'm not a boy

I'm a tight titted girl
and she laughed
and crutched herself

over towards you
making you flatten yourself
against the wall

gripping the towel with one hand
and holding her back
with the other

and she leaned down
and kiss the back of your hand
then looked you deep in the eyes

what have you got hidden
behind that towelling skirt then?
she said

and you gripped the towel tighter
with both hands
and she menacingly moved

one hand cautiously towards the towel
her armpits gripping
the crutches tightly

as she moved
you shouldn't be in here
you said

I'm not in there yet
she laughed and grabbed
the towel away with a force

that took her and the towel
toppling to the bathroom floor
where she lay

like an overturned beetle
you stood naked
your hands covering

what your father
called your toolbox
gazing down at her struggling

to get up
well don't just stand there
like a prize parrot

help pick me up
she said
and so with one hand covering

you knelt down to help lift her up
but then she pulled you
down beside her

and laughed
and her laughter echoed
around the walls

but then she paused
and put a hand
over her mouth

hearing Sister Bridget's
nearby footsteps
and noisy calls.

poem by Terry Collett
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Moon After Day

Moon shed a tear
Moon give me fear
Moon light my way
Moon after day

Moon give me strength
Moon has no length
What I want to say,
Is Moon after day

Moon is full
Moon is dull
Moon light my way
Moon after day

Moon is my life
Moon gave me a knife
Moon slit my wrist
Moon a wonderful bliss

What I want to say
Moon after day!

poem by Akia Snow
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A Paumanok Picture

TWO boats with nets lying off the sea-beach, quite still,
Ten fishermen waiting--they discover a thick school of mossbonkers--
they drop the join'd seine-ends in the water,
The boats separate and row off, each on its rounding course to the
beach, enclosing the mossbonkers,
The net is drawn in by a windlass by those who stop ashore,
Some of the fishermen lounge in their boats, others stand ankle-deep
in the water, pois'd on strong legs,
The boats partly drawn up, the water slapping against them,
Strew'd on the sand in heaps and windrows, well out from the water,
the green-back'd spotted mossbonkers.

poem by Walt Whitman
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Master & Slave

Life, a movie in my head
A page of lines we read
The words remain unsaid
Time, a race you never win
Look back at where we've been
And throw the towel in
(chorus)
Every time i see a sign
Tell me what's the bottom line
Tell me
I just wanna take my turn
Now before i crash and burn
Yeah
Hope, a candle burning bright
A temporary light
'till we return tonight
Love, the mighty drug we crave
The master and the slave
Will rule us to our grave
Everytime i see a sign
Tell me what's the bottom line
Tell me
I just want a place to rest,
Count to four and catch my breath
One, two, three, four...
I don't know what to feel
Don't know what to say
Don't know what to do
I don't know where to go
Don't know who to be
Don't know who to know
Life is never what it seems
It shakes you from your dreams
Wake up and start to
Everytime i see a sign
Tell me what's the bottom line
Tell me
I just want a place to rest
Stop and let me catch my breath
Everytime i see a sign
Tell me what's the bottom line
Tell me
Forget all that i've been told
I just wanna lose control
Everytime i see a sign
Tell me what's the bottom line
Tell me
I just wanna take my turn
Now before i crash and burn

song performed by by Kiss
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Last Exit Brooklyn

When the sun crashes into your world
Look around and you try and find your girl
And youre daring, too sick of what you see
Out of town is the only place to be
When your life starts to run out of juice
Feel like dyin and you just want to get loose
Prayin moves dont make much sense to you
Seeing red before your feeling is blue
Last exit brooklyn....last exit brooklyn
Going back, getting out of this town
Stretch it lean and mean, it turns you around
Take your dreams and stretch them out on the street
Take your turn to get back on your feet
Feel the wheels singin over the ridge
Feel the song like oakland take you
All the time you knew you had the itch
All the girls were glad to see you
Last exit brooklyn....last exit brooklyn
Girl in ol v wont pray
Dont give you a hard time
All the girls from brooklyn say
Last exit brooklyn....last exit brooklyn
Do you remember the day you left the block
Your mama said you would live to regret it
Coming home, coming stoned, come in hope, coming ready
Are you holding steady
Last exit brooklyn....last exit brooklyn....last exit brooklyn
(mccafferty, agnew, charlton, sweet)
1984 fool circle music

song performed by by Nazareth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Moon In The Mirror

Moon in the mirror,
Wont you stay a while tonight?
All things of beauty
Are too soon out of sight.
I know its a selfish plea;
You must light the hearts of more than me.
Theres a girl at her window;
Now shes trying to catch your eye.
But oh, pretty stranger,
You must keep on passing by.
Moon in the mirror, I dont know you;
Just a reflection of kisses
And whispers and indigo skies.
Moon in the mirror, look below you.
Moons looking back and theyre loving
And longing and telling no lies.
Moon in the mirror,
I will ask you one more time,
Not for a reason and not for a rhyme,
But please tell me if you can,
Have you seen a moonlit man?
Hes so very like you,
You could see him from afar.
Perhaps hes a misplaced moonbeam
Or a banished star.
Moon in the mirror, hes so like you.
Light up the room for an hour;
A smile or the beat of my heart.
Oh, how my heart tried to fight him,
Fight against mirrors of moonlight
Or lovelight. you lost from the start,
From the start

song performed by by Joni Mitchell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Tale Of Ours In The Ocean

We are so close to the beach
As we held hands each other
On that deep blue sea we were floated
Joyful and vanished our sorrows

The ocean crashing against the rocks
Very nice, never thought about them
It's so fun too play in the sands
Just like what we called 'run away'

We are so close to the beach
As we held hand each other
That deep blue sea we're floated
Together we diving into the sea

Hanging on to this sweet memory
And the water can't cover the memory
Through the window in the wall
I let them flew straight to the moon

I wonder why it happens so fast
You leave me far away from here
And I'm still here waiting for you
To go to the beach once again

Our life is no longer in this world
So I write down these all words
I want to ride the skies tonight
Cos' I still waiting for sleep.

poem by Nik Hasif Nik Hasbollah
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Moon, We Look to You.

Moon, you have a shade of blue tonight –
Is it something that you saw or heard?
Only yesterday, your tone was proud and bright,
Yellow silver, full, and so assured.

Moon, despite the clarity of sky,
Metaphors of cloud that fluff with grey
Drift across your rounded face to spy;
Feeding back, there's awfully much to say.

Moon, you have a role to play up there –
We below must bear the earthly pain.
Duty bound, we shoulder sorrows fair –
You are free from our grotesque disdain.

Moon, we depend on you to shine
When the sun retires down below.
Add to that your grandest role divine:
Tidal Lord, to keep the seas in tow!

Moon, I hope you take to heart our plea –
Needless is the reason for your blue.
Beaming, you should give the night its glee:
We're despairing – so we look to you.

Moon moon, moon so blue, moon, moon so blue
Moon moon, moon so blue, moon, moon so blue
Moon moon, moon so blue, moon, moon so blue
Moon moon, moon so blue, moon, moon so blue
Moon moon, moon so blue, moon, moon so blue

poem by Mark R Slaughter
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From My Room

From my room I hear
The wind blow
Strings from icy harp
Filling the dark
Now outside

The morning comes with night
And leaves with night
My heart is in dark
Like flickering light
Pounding on and on
Through to dreams gone

In the dark clouded sky
With beams of low sun flight
Time slowly passes by
With shadows left to right

From my room I hear
Where I now dwell
The dark voices near
Of iciness and its cartel

Strings from icy harp
Filling the dark
Now outside

*Federico García Lorca once wrote:

“From my room I hear
The water jet
A finger of grapevine…”

poem by Peter S. Quinn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Water Chariot

Sky lies inside the Sky
Welkin lies inside the welkin
Carried away by
Water Chariot

Sun lies inside the sun
Moon lies inside the moon
Carried away by
Water chariot

Mountain lies inside the mountain
Hill lies inside the hill
Carried away by
Water chariot

Womb lies inside the womb
Life lies inside the life
Carried away by
Water chariot

Green inside the green
Breath lies inside the breath
Carried away by
Water chariot

Shore filled and slept,
To him
Water chariot

Like this…
Ascent the water chariot
Passing with elegance
Unattainable sun
Smiling moon
Chattering stars…
Grown Hill, Frazzle Rock
Planted Trees, Blossom Flowers
Adoring bees…
Radiant dhub grass
Young male-female
Grown-up, languish, perished
Dread umbrage vanished
Delighted milestone
Passed, this Water chariot

Sally pleasure trip …
This Life’s chorus
Rotating carnival
Even for Midge
Its own share…

This way…
Ascent the water chariot
Pass with Splendor.

poem by Kavitha Rai
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Harps We Love

The harp we love hath a royal burst!
Its strings are mighty forest trees;
And branches, swaying to and fro,
Are fingers sounding symphonies.

The harp we love hath a solemn sound!
And rocks amongst the shallow seas
Are strings from which the rolling waves
Draw forth their stirring harmonies.

The harp we love hath a low sweet voice!
Its strings are in the bosom deep,
And Love will press those hidden chords
When all the baser passions sleep.

poem by Henry Kendall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Tearful Eyes

The mirror laughed; it gleaned my thoughts
And saw me cry my want:
Synthetic views - pathetic clues
To how I tick - and now you taunt,
You bleeding mirror, jibe another!
Just because I dream…

To be the mighty hero wise!
And perch atop the sodden hill
Of blood and pungent death,
To lead our race from sure demise.
Let's regain, collect, and rest
Before the battle slams
Our dauntless nerve. And now to rise!
Come follow me - we'll slay the foe!
See my cloak unfurl.
Through screams and wails, he fails and dies.
Look! he falls across his minions'
Path. I laugh aloud.
My warriors hold me to the skies.
Overhead the clouds recede,
Thinning out the black.

And then I fade in pallid lies.
Returning back to conscious state,
I let the mirror slate me:
Fathoming my remote disguise,
Reflecting back my hopeless lot.
Oh to smash the thing!
If I could see through tearful eyes.

mirror mirror mirror mirror mirror mirror mirror mirror mirror mirror
mirror mirror mirror mirror mirror mirror mirror mirror mirror mirror
mirror mirror mirror mirror mirror mirror mirror mirror mirror mirror
mirror mirror mirror mirror mirror mirror mirror mirror mirror mirror

poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Hill

Who are those people
living at the top of the hill?
I don't know them.
I guess I never will.

Who are the people
that I see
living at the bottom of the hill
just like me?

We are the complainers
and we find it odd
that the ones at the top of the hill
think they're God.

We need to stop complainin'
and climb up the hill
and shout out loud
'We've had our fill.'

You're not Gods.
You never have been,
These hills where you're livin'
are filled with sin.

You've sinned against humanity
at the bottom of the hill.
And all that you'; ve done
is against God's will.

You're the imposters
with crowns on your head.
You are the laughables
that have been misled.

We, at the bottom of the hill
always will survive.
We'll do what we've always done
to keep our hopes alive.
We will pray.

poem by Edwina Reizer
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Man at the Bus Stop on Halloween

The others, of course,
are more rabid than he
but less apt to show it.
Whenever he strikes,
he never romps off.
He stands with the wrist
that he's snatched
from the lady
tight in his teeth
as he waits with a smile
for the wagon.
He's one of the few
wrist-snatchers still
on the streets of Chicago,
and he makes his rounds
in old tennies.
His technique is simple:
He dives for the purse hand,
gives it a whack, and severs
the wrist without slobber,
then stands like a Vatican Guard
with the wrist in his teeth
until he is certain
he has no pursuers.
At night in his dreams he sees
the women whose wrists
he has held in his teeth.
They stand at the bus stop
like Statues of Liberty,
shrieking and waving
their stumps like flares.
He prays their screams
will bring to a frieze
the patrol cars glowing
in the middle of the street

poem by Donal Mahoney
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Master Slave

Life, a movie in my head
A page of lines we read
The words remain unsaid
Time, a race you never win
Look back at where weve been
And throw the towel in
(chorus)
Every time I see a sign
Tell me whats the bottom line
Tell me
I just wanna take my turn
Now before I crash and burn
Yeah
Hope, a candle burning bright
A temporary light
till we return tonight
Love, the mighty drug we crave
The master and the slave
Will rule us to our grave
Everytime I see a sign
Tell me whats the bottom line
Tell me
I just want a place to rest,
Count to four and catch my breath
One, two, three, four...
I dont know what to feel
Dont know what to say
Dont know what to do
I dont know where to go
Dont know who to be
Dont know who to know
Life is never what it seems
It shakes you from your dreams
Wake up and start to
Everytime I see a sign
Tell me whats the bottom line
Tell me
I just want a place to rest
Stop and let me catch my breath
Everytime I see a sign
Tell me whats the bottom line
Tell me
Forget all that Ive been told
I just wanna lose control
Everytime I see a sign
Tell me whats the bottom line
Tell me
I just wanna take my turn
Now before I crash and burn

song performed by by Kiss
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fitzsimmons Returns

The mirror never lies,
Your mother said.
You look in it now,
The mirror reflects
You in the midst
Of half way dressing.
You hold the green
Corset strings, waiting
For the maid Fitzsimmons.
You’ve rung for her twice.
No sight of her or sound.
Been busy, she’ll say,
Have other things to do
Other than run around
After you. And she’ll say it
In that Irish tongue of hers,
With her deep blue eyes
Peering into your eyes
As if she sought your soul.
You fidget. Pull the strings.
Stare in the large mirror.
She’s done your hair
Nice enough as she can
And does, then ran off
To the ring of some bell
From some other quarter.
You pull the strings tighter.
Breath in, pull even tighter.
She even laid out the clothes,
Neatly as she does; shoes
Polished to a bright shine.
You stiffen and listen.
A loud voice bellows
Down the passage;
The canaries in the cage,
Take flight in fright.
Fitzsimmons returns,
The passage vibrates.
Your thin fingers hold
The green corsets strings,
They visibly shake,
The maid is coming,
She sings, the swish
Of her stiff black dress,
You gaze in the mirror,
See eyes and hair
And a touch of fear
Burning there.

poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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