A Virgin prostitute
She is the Sun in the morning to slums
And the Moon to isolated drunkards at midnight.
But she never get drowns in shallow waters,
Like a courageous mother she advises to the lost souls
And everybody respects her as she still being a virgin.
*If anybody could stone her though she is a prostitute? No as she stills a Rosebud and her name is Innocence.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Do Not Stay On The Deepest Part Of The River
lest you get drowned
or be taken hostage by the
monster
join with us
friends of the shallow waters
we are wading
and laughing and
filtering colors
on the prism
we are kids on the shallow waters
our chins on the stone
our minds still dreaming
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Midnight At The Lost And Found
Hey Ricky, now mine is empty
How about one for you
We could set it out together
Seems tomorrow's overdue
Captain Video, done went home
One pilot laid to rest
And dragon ladies talk that talk
About who loves who - who loves best
Silver bullets in the jukebox
Spin another round
Everybody at the back of the line
It's midnight at the lost and found
Midnight at the lost and found
Lost souls in the hunting ground
A remedy for all your ills
At the lost and found
Midnight at the lost and found
Midnight...
Have a double it's gettin' late
You'll get home home, just rely on fate
Place just finally came alive
Good old boys just arrived
Stools keep changin' faces
And the night just slips away
And like a long distance love affair
Soon you've got to pay
Silver bullets in the jukebox
Spin another round
Everybody at the back of the line
It's midnight at the lost and found
Midnight at the lost and found
Lost souls in the hunting ground
A remedy for all your ills
At the lost and found
Midnight at the lost and found
Midnight...
Hangin' on barely, hitch a ride away
Belly up and bury, boy, all the hurt you feel today
Hangin' on barely, hitch a ride away
Belly up and bury, boy, all the hurt you feel today
Silver bullets in the jukebox
Spin another round
Everybody get back in line
Last call for the lost and found
Midnight at the lost and found
Lost souls in the hunting ground
A remedy for all your ills
At the lost and found
Midnight at the lost and found
Lost souls in the hunting ground
A remedy for all your ills
At the lost and found
Midnight at the lost and found
Lost souls in the hunting ground
A remedy for all your ills
At the lost and found
Midnight at the lost and found
Lost souls in the hunting ground
A remedy for all your ills
At the lost and found
(Midnight ...
Midnight ...
Midnight ...
Midnight ...
Midnight ...
Midnight ...
Midnight ...
Midnight
song performed by by Meat Loaf
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Heathrose
ONCE a boy a Rosebud spied,
Heathrose fair and tender,
All array'd in youthful pride,--
Quickly to the spot he hied,
Ravished by her splendour.
Rosebud, rosebud, rosebud red,
Heathrose fair and tender!
Said the boy, "I'll now pick thee,
Heathrose fair and tender!"
Said the rosebud, "I'll prick thee,
So that thou'lt remember me,
Ne'er will I surrender!"
Rosebud, rosebud, rosebud red,
Heathrose fair and tender!
Now the cruel boy must pick
Heathrose fair and tender;
Rosebud did her best to prick,--
Vain 'twas 'gainst her fate to kick--
She must needs surrender.
Rosebud, rosebud, rosebud red,
Heathrose fair and tender!
poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Innocence Is A Harmonic Restoration Seed
innocence is a blessing easily tarnished
innocence sees beauty even in dark souls
innocence has belief to calm brutal beasts
innocence is a sacred gift easily forfeit lost
innocence has faith to restore hardened hearts
innocence has vision to invoke creative remedies
innocence is a unique seed of passion harmonies
innocence has truth to see path to restorations
innocence has patience to work new miracles
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
She Still Calls His Name
Summer moonlight shines
On a midnight train
Lost in emotion she cries
To the wind and the rain
In silence she feels the breeze
No mercy tonight
The passion and promise has made
Life broken inside
She stills calls his name
She cant get home
She stills calls his name
Broken hearted
Another town rolls by
As a distant rose
And wonderin what she will find
When she gets home
You, theres a part in flame
But a careless heart
Dreams are an open game
Will tear you apart
She stills calls his name
Shes out of control
She stills calls his name
Broken hearted
One love comes of the rest
A bed of roses was a bed of nails
Dont take the blame forever
Just give it time
song performed by by Uriah Heep
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
She Still Calls His Name (1992 Demo Session)
Summer moonlight shines
On a midnight train
Lost in emotion she cries
To the wind and the rain
In silence she feels the breeze
No mercy tonight
The passion and promise has made
Life broken inside
She stills calls his name
She cant get home
She stills calls his name
Broken hearted
Another town rolls by
As a distant rose
And wonderin what she will find
When she gets home
You, theres a part in flame
But a careless heart
Dreams are an open game
Will tear you apart
She stills calls his name
Shes out of control
She stills calls his name
Broken hearted
One love comes of the rest
A bed of roses was a bed of nails
Dont take the blame forever
Just give it time
song performed by by Uriah Heep
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The prostitute is not vulnerable
A prostitute and a virgin,
Let them take sanyasin,
Who will come out without stains?
With unspent libido in smoulder,
It is nun who commits sin.
An empty vessel does not leak.
A prostitute is a spent force.
14.11.2000, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Poet Vavroovahana Patra
Poet is a saint;
Depicts the truth of Earth with merriment.
Encourages the society to proceed on right path;
He is happy seeing innocent people’s mirth.
Poet is a hermit;
Searches for Eternal Delight.
Passes time with tragedy and comedy;
Advises the society for honesty boldly.
Poet depicts good and evil deeds of society;
Advises the people to follow the path of punctuality.
Advises politicians to be away corruption;
Through poems he frees human life’s tension.
Poet’s verses dazzle in the pages of book beautifully;
Delights the people of world gaily.
Advises on socialism;
Respects the people of all isms.
Poet is pleased seeing the smiling faces of the poor people In society;
Inspires them to follow the path of prosperity.
Prays God day and night.
Is a real honest devotee.
poem by Vavroovahana Patra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Morning Innocence
Morning Innocence
We’re all born with it
As children, its what we live on
Screw death and destruction
Its only life and love that
we want to know about
For that’s all we should know
Contemplations of death and destruction
Is just a waste of our breath
and a waste of our tears
Yet some may still wonder
'What is `Morning Innocence`? '
It’s the knowledge of knowing nothing
As children or as we wake up
Death, pain, and hatred are never
the first thing on our minds
This is Morning Innocence
Be it the beginning of our lives
or the beginning of our day
We know nothing...
Yet time passes we lose this
Morning Innocence
Even if it’s hours or years
We start to realize
All the death, pain, and destruction
That shall one day consume our lives
However, to the end of our day(s)
as a reflection of our souls
We accept it as it comes along
We’re brilliant...
We know everything there is to know
We know what is soon to come
Because this Morning Innocence
is no longer a factor in our lives
No more knowledge...
We’ve been exposed to it all
and yet we’re still being exposed
There’s ten million ways to die
and the number keeps growing
and now - we no longer have
our Morning Innocence
to protect us.
poem by Joseph Anthony Montefusco
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
First Level Of An Ordinary Conversation
on the shallow waters of laughter
we let go the words, we go with the flow of the first layer of our waters.
wooden boats, hands as rudders and a little emptiness covered
by the lace of sweet nothings, hi, hello, how are you, miss you,
as the feet stamp on something rocky, as the eyes bitter blue,
as our souls should know where to go, sham, spam,
violets are violets, and blue is blue, and red as red,
no implications, no deeper swimming, just a slight touch
here and there, some finishing statements, oh your nice,
you look thinner, losing weight is good, like your hair your nose
shallow, so shallow, there is no force here, no light, glimmer sans,
i look forward to seeing you again.
maybe next year, maybe never. you have become so ordinary.
and you sure, do not understand what i really mean. It is you.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Shallow Days...
well, there are
shallow days, nothing deep
something for my
feet,
above me the sun
one and only one sun
just the sun and my head
and the shallow waters
on my toes
and the noon time walk
when everyone is as usual
having lunch, and
my toes get wet and i
am making meanings
on the shallow waters
the body in the middle of
this air, the hands are like
eagles flying. the fingers are
turning into feathers
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Moon Within Me
there it was..the moon
lying in the shallow rain water
a shaky moon..never
very sure of itself
what would happen to this moon....
i thought.....tomorrow
when the sun would drink off this shallow
what would happen to this moon tomorrow
ooh.....silly fellow
the moon would be safe up above..actually...
actually that was'nt the question in my mind
it was the astonishment that the scene left behind
the milky white moon was milky white
even when lying in that dirty shallow state
like i soppose the ' GOD ' in me....even
even inspite of the dirty shallow within me
poem by Samanyan Lakshminarayanan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Innocence of Gold
I flicked of the TV
At a news report
About another child
Lost in innocence no more
I was once
An innocent child
Living so happy
Till I was dealt
One of life's blows
And just like the children
I learn of today
Losing their innocence
That's torn from their souls
It drowns us all
In the degradation of life
I want to scream
I want to shout
Make all this carnage stop
Why do you ask?
Would I even bother to say?
I just want you to know
What its like for a child
To lose in themselves
The innocence of gold
You cry with a passion
Inside your lost soul
You know not what to say
You know not what to do
You feel so alone
You feel so used
You hide all your secrets
And you cry every day
And pray ever night
Oh God take my life
You drown in your sorrows
Every single day
And wonder each time
What have I done in my life?
To deserve such cruelty
That's dealt this cruel life
But life goes on
You learn to be brave
You learn to ignore
Your family and friends
You learn to ignore
An out stretched hand
I know I am lucky
To be here today
So I advocate for children
Still trapped in this fate
poem by Kaila George
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Love Sonnet LVIII
Do not surcharge our souls with that vile blame
To which our bodies are subjected here;
Nor heap them with the horror of dull fear
Base-borrowed from a life of torpid shame.
But let them linger like a lovely flame
Above the clay to which they must cohere,
Lighting the earthly to the heavenly sphere
To meet the mystery from which they came.
As midnight drinks a message from the moon
And morning takes her orders from the sun,
So let our bodies to our souls submit
And live for ever in their still high-noon,
Where morn and midnight gather into one,
And only angels on their missions flit.
poem by Zora Bernice May Cross
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The faded identity
I lost it somewhere and in the mirror I watched my face,
It's not me somebody else that resembles the lunatic who drowned in the singing river on a full moon day?
* To those who drowned in shallow waters.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sonnet I
The only difference between you and the moon,
My distant friend is that the moon never leaves me alone,
It does not send assorted bones wrapped in a sad night like this,
Your only gifts were ‘sorrow' and ‘melancholy', the twin sisters.
Distant friend, when you abandoned me at nowhere.
The cruel nights kept knocking on my repulsive door.
I went lost as a stone, silent as the smoke, and sad as fall.
While the other moon kept sprinkling its sack of floor on my wounds.
The other moon always crossed the immense distances for me,
Turning away meters, kilometers and miles; love doesn't know time and space
distance is not a obstacle, not an excuse for forgetting,
while you my moon; being close as breath to me, lived extraterrestrial-ly.
You always kept hearing me as though I was absent,
Saw me as though I was invisible, spoke as though I was a shadow.
Abandoned me as though I was a stone
I have always been a stone my love, a stone lost.
Beloved: There is nothing more sadder than being a lost stone:
Now declare me dead! ! !
poem by Sarang Mangi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Within The Midnight Hour
In the midnight hours, my heart
breaks, the fog moves in, wraps
it arms around the morning's
longing wake. The gentle dew
falls from the nights moon, within
the loving fog, my heart
blooms.
The midnight stars fading one
by one, falling from the darkness,
until the night is done. Stars
floating within my sea of tears,
midnight awaiting for my
love to appear.
Gripping the cool night, feeling
alone, lost in the misty fog,
my heart looking for a home.
Crying to the Heaven's, my
universe in pain, moon beams
playing melodies upon my
broken heart strings.
In the midnight hour, your
sweet name I call, the galaxy
crying, losing light as it's stars
fall. Alone in the midnight hour,
my heart, the pain consumes,
within the loving fog, my heart
does bloom.
poem by Ruth warren
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Midnight Prostitute
There she goes again
Flagging me down in the rain
Yes, she is cute
Midnight prostitute
Roaming the red light district
With conventions of her own so strict
A tenner for an ice cream
Fifty for a lay
A hundred for the day
She is a woman of the streets
A working class brain
In the sunlight she cleanses her stains
I beg of you no condemnation
I beg of you no disrespect
You and I are not even near perfect
There she goes again
Midnight Prostitute
A tenner for an ice cream
Fifty for a lay
A hundred for the day
Marriage for the year
I fear!
Copyright 2005 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Search For The Divine
Words are few to describe the gentle crackling of an early dawn
When dark turns to life in a crisp new bristling
When enthused winged creatures stir away the nightly yawn
With sounds of verve on green growth moist’ning
Oh the marvel of passion that fills
When the root of beauty pierce senses and the heart stills
When in the midst of those who speak with crudeness
With tongues dragging forlorn in the slums of mind
From mouths that leak into bits of lewdness
I yearn to places apart from the residue of such kind
To the marvel of passion that fills
When the root of beauty pierce senses and the heart stills
I stand at a coast on the rocks in the night
Gazing out over waters with waves at wild
On the skyline flashes of lightning with might
Light the dark brooding clouds and rain falling mild
Oh this marvel of passion that fills
When the root of beauty pierce senses and the heart stills
A day-by-day dwelling through the mindsets of mass
A gray weary walk through the tunes of this plight
With compulsions of comfort composed by a reigning class
I long to be free from the desolate symphony of man’s delight
And to marvel at the passion that fills
When the root of beauty pierce senses and the heart stills
When an old haggard soul cross my way
From wounds of before dried up and bare
And new waters soak his spirit to fertile clay
For luscious life to sprout with sparkling dare
I marvel at this passion that fills
When the root of beauty pierce senses and the heart stills
From a place deep within the core of depravity
Ripples of damage rise and shake stability
Tearing up a world to die a debased cavity
Of famine, lust and greed which smiles, reveling its ability
Oh I crave the marvel of passion that fills
When the root of beauty pierce senses and the heart stills
I can no more refrain from calling His Name
He’s the only music to the silence of death
My Father, Friend and Christ who took our blame
Symphony of life and harmony of love
He is the marvel of passion that fills
The root of beauty piercing senses when our hearts stills
(2008-09-15)
poem by Francois Hoon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Love Respects
Love respects everyone always,
Love respects everyone's way of life,
Everyone's way of living needs respect,
Love respects everyone always :)
Love respects everyone's opinions,
Love helps us understand everyone's choices,
Respecting everyone's choices encourages understanding,
Love respects everyone's opinions :)
Love respects our needs and desires,
Love knows our needs include respect,
Our desires need respect to be understood,
Love respects our needs and desires :)
Love respects family always,
Love understands a families' influence,
Our parents' decisions need respect,
Love respects family always :)
poem by Paul Jensen Jr
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!