Related quotes: Hiss with the silence if...

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Hiss with the silence if it wouldn't stir,
Brave the lion with congealed fear,
And you'll figure how the bullets sing
Embracing the force without ducking the sting
In a rippling dream of kerosene
Ignite the flame of the obscene
Vista of nakedness dispensed into lewd
Vulnerability, though the sentries stood
With all the surrealistic smatters
Of the reeling picture behind the shutters
And the albino leaves of the old sycamore
Will pour down its vapid phosphor,
While the rustles will swoon over the soul
As it engulfed the body in whole
Dripping into her supple breasts
As the night don its very best
Subliminal guise to entice
The weary batting of wandering eyes
To severe the golden ties,
To sever the tethering lies
In a shotgun clout more pliant than
A dilettante danseuse of the sun
Fondling my submission in the painful trance
Induced by the garish tempo of the dance
Of the lapses in the liminalities
When all the lovely bones sing with me
The sirens swansong of temporal keys;
Slinging mud into the skies
To give life to gravid star-cries,
And altering the times of the night
When we were one in a harried flight.
In spite of all the shifting of bridges
And all the sifting of the hinges
I still weave my web to be amongst
The sequestered blood of our long
Putrefying trail of gilded yarns
Please, take me again into your arms
And if this be painful, if this be sad
I'll sunder the glory I desire to clad
Just to be with you in your island
Licked before the isthmus can fortify the sand
Into a swarthy road towards the crown
Of your place's albino sun
And I pledge never to run athwart
In the veiled chambers the heart
Until there'll be none
No famished hope to become
The beauty in loins
Or the peril in the noise
Just one amongst the sludge
Giving birth to the remote trudge
Towards the star screams
Whispering in salient films
Hands pointing to the sky
Shearing your heaven's eyes
Like fences, divulging
Vulnerability, toppling.

poem by Norman Santos
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Related quotes

When Love Cries

Baby you
turned my world into something new
nights are long when you're far away
hunger for you every night and day
whisper softly to the wind
need you back in my arms again
passion calls from deep inside
it only happens when my love cries

You make my heart sing (x3)
when love cries
you make my heart sing (x3)
when love cries...love cries...love cries

And when I am blue
close my eyes and dream of you
silent echoes scream out your name
you're the keeper of my flame
I'll survive on desire
'til I'm closer to your burning fire
ride a star across the sky
I need you here when my love cries

You make my heart sing (x3)
when love cries
you make my heart sing (x3)
when love cries...love cries
you make my hear sing (x6)
when love cries

Ooh baby
to be near you
just to feel you

Baby

song performed by by Donna Summer from The Donna Summer Anthology
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Star

I HAD a star to sing by, a beautiful star that led,
But when I sang of its splendour the world in its wisdom said:
'Sweet are your songs, yet the singer sings but in madness when
He hymns but stars unbeholden of us his fellows of men;
Glow-worms we see and marshlights; sing us sweet songs of those
For the guerdons we have to give you, laurel and gold and rose;
Or if you must sing of stars, unseen of your brother man,
Go, starve with your eyes on your vision; your star may save if it can!'

So I said, 'If I starve and die I never again shall see
The glory, the high white radiance that hallows the world for me;
I will sing their songs, if it must be, and when I have golden store,
I will turn from the marsh and the glow-worms, and sing of my star once more.'
So I walked in the warm wet by-ways, not daring to lift my eyes
Lest love should drive me to singing my star supreme in the skies,
And the world cried out, 'We will crown him, he sings of the lights that are,
Glories of marshlight and glow-worms, not visions vain of a star!'

I said, 'Now my brows are laurelled, my hands filled full of their gold,
I will sing the starry songs that these earthworms bade withhold.
It is time to sing of my star!' for I dreamed that my star still shone,
Then I lifted my eyes in my triumph. Night! night! and my star was gone.

poem by Edith Nesbit
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Dance Dance…

Dance dance to the evening
In a dim golden flow
As the leaves sing
In their breezy breezy blow
Morning comes to live
Glowing waves of day
More than enough to give
Of its colors golden lay

Dreams that were of night
Are now all laying still
For the daylight bright
Those aspirations fulfill
Dance dance to the night
Fill the moods of song
In your dream starry flight
Those dreamy feelings long

The stars are out to shine
Within their golden glow
Thru space in horizon line
That the skies now show
Harmony of deep freedom
To the darkness remote
Colors of the ad-infinitum
Opening dawn’s fireboat

Dance dance to the evening
In a dim golden flow
As the leaves sing
In their breezy breezy blow
Morning comes to live
Glowing waves of day
More than enough to give
Of its colors golden lay

poem by Peter S. Quinn
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Because I Am

Because I am your star
life shines in the sky
night loves to sleep late
the day closes its eyes

If you want be my star
become alive on earth
become the night’s lover
be a man in the dawn

Because I am your dream
life pierces in your mind
the night gazes into your soul
the day takes its stroll

If you want be my dream
seed life in my arms
pour passion in the night
transform the days into flowers

Because I am your warmth
life swims in your blood
night overflows your heart
the day longs for the night

If you want be my warmth
allow blood to come alive
shed the night from the heart
the day caresses the night
You and I are in love
me and you in the night
If you are my dream
I become reality

You and I are in love
in the night, you and me
If I am a real women
you pass into eternity

poem by Silviu Craciunas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Painful Solitude

Painful rejection
Your silence speaks volumes
Solitary dove flies alone,

Looking for a place to belong,
She is lost, heart full of pain
Will she ever be able to sing again?

Painful illness
My body agony
My mind endures

Painful isolation
Painful solitude
Painful loneliness

poem by Lawrence Hiung
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Noise

the people of this world has produced so much noise
the honk, the fan, the sirens,
all these machines that pierce the ears of silence
all these restlessness
making holes in our hearts

i know, you are not loved
and there is so much noise from your pains
the miseries that seek the company of more miseries
i know you have loved much
much greater much painful than you can even afford to give

the babbles, the ramblings, the rattling of the bones
stripped of their flesh
the restless mind looking for the cure
these aches in every corner of the mind
drink some glasses of hard liquor
take the analgesics of other friends
on the same boat with you

the noise is too much
unbearable in fact not only to our ears
but the protest of all our senses

but wait, try this, this sacrifice
that sits on the corner of this nook
silently talking to itself
the irony of loving and being hurt
the tragedy of the smile
that you force upon your mouth
the upper lip that kisses the lower lip
your hands may caress all that you are
your mind shall rest
in the soft comforting bosom of your heart

try this unprotesting silence
and the noise dies
then you have triumphed
the contentment of your loving arms
embracing no one
but the self that you have accepted
as your friend

the noise leaves, the silence lies
like that beautiful lady waiting on your bed

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Underdog And The Stranger

sometimes we simply have to be vulnerable
to be mortal
and it happens when we extend a hand and let the other feel
that your hands are real
with blood and veins and flesh and bones
that when someone gets a sharp knife and slices your wrist
you bleed real blood
because you are not a ghost, a virtual image of somebody else,
because you are not a mannequin or wood,
or someone else appearing in another person's name

vulnerability is humanity, it happens when you walk alone and you
wear your face without a mask, a veil, a hat, a head dress,
it happens when you expose yourself
to someone and you tell him that you are lonely and you need a friend
that the weather is cold and that you need someone to be with
simply to talk without any self-interest at all

then someone laughs at you and even tells that if you keep
following him he will kick you in the ass
that there is simply no possibility of a connection between a hand to another hand
anymore

vulnerability is when you finally accept that other people are strangers too
and they do not have time for any other intrusion
for another stranger like me

vulnerability is simply letting the other person know that you have no other name except your name that you have no other reserved spare tire for
yourself except yourself

that you are yourself and that you are hurt is vulnerability
but that is not the end of it all

vulnerability is also realizing that you are finally human
and that you have learned to live with this humanity
despite the strangeness and the weakness
as others keep the wall within themselves
fortifying fences and excluding
others till the end of night
till another day
and another
night

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Elegy

He is sitting on a hill
A vapid night is crawling through the vale
The trees are fangs of transiency
The demons forge hammers and nails
He will travel all the ways
That lead to the unknown lands
Time has distorted his view
An amen in his due
He is gazing at the skies
Without yearning in his eyes
And he will follow the invisible trace
When the sirens sing again...
The spring is in the air, the silence in the skies
The wind is in his hair, the moon is in his eyes
The bats play on but hell be gone
Before the world has left the night
...the birds sing on but he has gone
Before the morning spreads its light

song performed by by Alphaville
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Harlequin

In the clout of a shotgun world
Of feral catwalk alleys
And dog-strut hungers
Subsistence is a farce comedy
Rummaging in the ripples
Of one's convictions
And the furor wrought
By such idiotic bliss;
Of obstreperous finagling
In the batting eyelashes
Of make believing,
Is the swansong
Of the ethereal, non-carnal,
Point blank demise.

Ball a smoldering spit
Inside the brawls of one's feet
And you may find the streak
Of unflawed erudite alibis
For these chortles,
And the pantomimic silence
That I spill in a platter
Of another slapstick charade
Of a feigned harlequinade—
Raveling a thread
Of luridly tangled fences
Made of yarn and lattices
Of tethering promises
A make-up in lieu of mendaciloquence.

Will you comb the tresses
Of this woebegone capitulate
Within the pillars of the self?
Deceiving the perpetual churning
Of the crippling bones
And all its lovely yearning
To be one with guffawing
Without the inflection of pestering
Yet, the manacles I woven
Cannot be shorn by the secretion
Of a perfectly maneuvered
Soliloquy and isolation.
Palm this intoxication
With the treacle of your blood.

Guzzled by a mask
D'you think the harlequin
Breaks the twitching with
Veritable effervescence?
Roll those marbled vision
And undrape the visage
Of saccharine pride;
A harlequin is poignant in all places
With black teeth and disembogued eyes,
It is you who laugh
With every esoteric motion
Be it flight or fall
What are you looking at?
What are you wishing for?

poem by Norman Santos
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poem by Frank McEleny
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Damsel Of Snow

A not so subtle enigma walks leisurely
Into the silky phosphor of her skin
Engulfed by the garish gestures of gaiety
And her fragrant vision-stealing scenes

What profound riddle lay buried
In the tinkering of her innocence?
What color gush in the grids
And architecture of her slumbering veins?

The answer resonated in the pulsations
Caught in somnabulism in her neck
Craning over for my desiccation
To fondle mellifluously this wreck

Beneath the blaring pounds of your croon
Is a pristine language of genuine hope
That had traversed with the monsoon
Grazing scars to eloquently festoon

I fancy and trust your gilded heart
For it beats the exotic tempo
Of the heaven's salient art
Purging the cacophony in a glissando

poem by Norman Santos
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Dandelion Larceny

The dandelion-larceny slithering
from the lambasted ties
inveigled the crickets
to fill the empty night
and left a chasm
in the pool of ryes
and now it only sways
in monastic tempo
like a fluttering hand
of a shattering riddance -
a vertical pendulum
foreboding the temporal fire
burning in the hearth
of quintessence

The jousting rays that the sun
emits upon the futile
resurging of the gilded sea
stymied the moonshine
that spangles with
the bristling feathers
of emancipated dandelions
adding injuries
to the fissured bones

Plaintive eyes watched
furtive fingers
loquaciously fumbling
into the penumbras
of harried nights
searching for the thread
where the inclement zephyr
swathed the chains
in the lattices
of our cathedral-windows

Now, finely sequestered
these swelling beads
are spuriously lustrous
like a star screaming
a symphonic croon
for its penultimate fulmination
before erupting from
suppurating and morph
from the shredded molts
a siphoning black hole of
stark mendacity
the assembly for
the prime masquerade

poem by Norman Santos
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dionysus

I bring ye wine from above,
From the vats of the storied sun;
For every one of yer love,
And life for every one.
Ye shall dance on hill and level;
Ye shall sing in hollow and height
In the festal mystical revel,
The rapurous Bacchanal rite!
The rocks and trees are yours,
And the waters under the hill,
By the might of that which endures,
The holy heaven of will!
I kindle a flame like a torrent
To rush from star to star;
Your hair as a comet’s horrent,
Ye shall see things as they are!
I lift the mask of matter;
I open the heart of man;
For I am of force to shatter
The cast that hideth -Pan!
Your loves shall lap up slaughter,
And dabbled with roses of blood
Each desperate darling daughter
Shall swim in the fervid flood.
I bring ye laughter and tears,
The kisses that foam and bleed,
The joys of a million years,
The flowers that bear no seed.
My life is bitter and sterile,
Its flame is a wandering star.
Ye shall pass in pleasure and peril
Across the mystic bar
That is set for wrath and weeping
Against the children of earth;
But ye in singing and sleeping
Shall pass in measure and mirth!
I lift my wand and wave you
Through hill to hill of delight :
My rosy rivers lave you
In innermost lustral light..
I lead you, lord of the maze,
In the darkness free of the sun;
In spite of the spite that is day’s
We are wed, we are wild, we are one.

At Shigar Baltistan.

poem by Aleister Crowley
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The war Widow

Black-veiled, black-gowned, she rides in bus and train,
With eyes that fill too listlessly for tears.
Her waxen hands clasp and unclasp again.
_Good News_, they cry. She neither sees nor hears.

Good News, perhaps, may crown some far-off king.
Good News may peal the glory of the state--
Good News may cause the courts of heaven to ring.
She sees a hand waved at a garden gate.

For her dull ears are tuned to other themes;
And her dim eyes can never see aright.
She glides--a ghost--through all her April dreams,
To meet his eyes at dawn, his lips at night.

Wraiths of a truth that others never knew;
And yet--for her--the only truth that's true.

II.

_Good News! Good News!_ There is no way but this.
Out of the night a star begins to rise.
I know not where my soul's deep Master is;
Nor can I hear those angels in the skies;

Nor follow him, as childhood used of old,
By radiant seas, in those time-hallowed tales.
Only, at times, implacable and cold,
From this blind gloom, stand out the iron nails.

Yet, at this world's heart stands the Eternal Cross,
The ultimate frame of moon and star and sun,
Where Love with out-stretched arms, in utter loss,
Points East and West and makes the whole world one.

_Good News! Good News!_ There is no hope, no way,
No truth, no life, but leads through Christmas Day.

poem by Alfred Noyes
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Ode to Ethiopia

O Mother Race! to thee I bring
This pledge of faith unwavering,
This tribute to thy glory.
I know the pangs which thou didst feel,
When Slavery crushed thee with its heel,
With thy dear blood all gory.

Sad days were those-ah, sad indeed!
But through the land the fruitful seed
Of better times was growing.
The plant of freedom upward sprung,
And spread its leaves so fresh and young-
Its blossoms now are blowing.

On every hand in this fair land,
Proud Ethiope's swarthy children stand
Beside their fairer neighbor;
The forests flee before their stroke,
Their hammers ring, their forges smoke,-
They stir in honest labour.

They tread the fields where honour calls;
Their voices sound through senate halls
In majesty and power.
To right they cling; the hymns they sing
Up to the skies in beauty ring,
And bolder grow each hour.

Be proud, my Race, in mind and soul;
Thy name is writ on Glory's scroll
In characters of fire.
High 'mid the clouds of Fame's bright sky
Thy banner's blazoned folds now fly,
And truth shall lift them higher.

Thou hast the right to noble pride,
Whose spotless robes were purified
By blood's severe baptism.
Upon thy brow the cross was laid,
And labour's painful sweat-beads made
A consecrating chrism.

No other race, or white or black,
When bound as thou wert, to the rack,
So seldom stooped to grieving;
No other race, when free again,
Forgot the past and proved them men
So noble in forgiving.

Go on and up! Our souls and eyes
Shall follow thy continuous rise;
Our ears shall list thy story
From bards who from thy root shall spring,
And proudly tune their lyres to sing
Of Ethiopia's glory.

poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Anatomy of Rue

The far flung tirade bellowed
into the gray reflection
and the resistance knelt
before its banquet of rue
but sleep was neglected
by the sullen eyes,
and tales were still narrated
into the frosted-glass
fearfully staring daggers
like a hysteric pistol
crying at point blank
knowing well that the only eyes
it can look into are the mirror's

The seasons passed hurriedly
but solace never came with
the showering yellow petals
and the breadth of trepidation
grew like a feral bush of ivies
and its thorns instilled
false-hopes in waiting futilely
for the sound of keys
unlocking my ajar doors

And here, in the decapitation
of my cloud's phantom-musing
I fell into a monastic languor -
limbs falling like yarns
untangled from the web of life
and in the wanton silence
I listened to the veracious absence
of pliant footsteps chasing
the setting of my red cooling star

It gave way for oscillating sequins
of the night to enthuse aeons
to go back to their weaving
of nostalgic poisons and
the monsoon beat like wings
escaping the hunter's net

Obdurately, the bridges held strong
even when the constitutions are burned,
I remember you as who you are
with a stark pang of grandiose
and remembering is no different
than breaking bones just
to prove that you are still alive

And as death sieges my garrison
with myriad auguries sifting through
the spurious altering lights
outside my cellared window,
the casted shadows on my walls
can only bring a cloak of life
into this steel-cold self-incarceration.

poem by Norman Santos
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cajoling From A Condor

Underneath the condor wings
Of the night's gargoyle sentries
Exiguous bodies shrill their lights
Scintillating the scar of the horizon
A fine line where the sun treads
Jumping rooftops and flooding trelisses
Where the morning rips and snoops in
Pilfering the dark of the night
And the salient screams of the cicadas—
A fracture of hope on a lazy fire
A purveyance for the poor
And the bones crackled to ignite
The hearse moseying in the roads
Shrouding the thinning ice in the skin
Unwelcoming in the rhythm of the dirge
The night ends there for the meander
Thwarted by an answer in the uttermost
Shape and form, but this is not
Giving up on me of me, yet.

poem by Norman Santos
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London

It was november 4th
I last held your hand
It seemed our time would last forever
You said dont ever leave
I thought youd never go
I wish I could just remember your name...
Youre just a memory now
Like all the ones before
But with your pain Ive had to suffer
Your eyes alight with flame
As the picture burns
I hear the screams from long ago
They cry remember, blood-red streaks on
Velvet throats at night
The streetlights fanned our trail of fame
Through
London london
The memories will never leave me
London london
All I see is you
London london
The cries in the night
Keep bringing me to
London london
Calling out to me
Oh theres some things in life I could never face
The worst is being alone
Sometimes I wish I could have taken your
Place my love
You know I dont want to live forever
Oh let me see you standing in the
Shadows once again
Well walk the streets like long ago in
London london
The fire in your eyes will be bringing me to
London london
All I need is you
The cries in the night keep ringing on in
London london
Calling out to you

song performed by by Queensryche
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A child's Suffering

The intense flame of withering blooms,
In deep essence of those in tombs.
A child like figure in darkness's shadow,
As his eyes as yellow as cat's eyes glow.
Death takes him home into the deep,
to a never ending painful sleep.
The child's voice heard through my dreams,
His voice so painful as he screams.
Why an innocent child has to suffer,
no child deserves this life so hard and so much rougher.
But the father's disgrace chose the child's path,
Taking the child into a blood bath,
the child cries as the burning goes on,
Forever from dusk to dawn.

poem by Krystle Kyriakou
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ad Astra Per Aspera

Related quotes

When Love Cries

The Star

Dance Dance…

Because I Am

Painful Solitude

The Noise

The Underdog And The Stranger

Beautiful Star Of Bethlehem

Elegy

The Harlequin

A Wandering Star

Damsel Of Snow

Dandelion Larceny

Dionysus

The war Widow

Ode to Ethiopia

Anatomy of Rue

Cajoling From A Condor

London

A child's Suffering

En.Citatepedia®.ro

Ad Astra Per Aspera

Related quotes

When Love Cries

The Star

Dance Dance…

Because I Am

Painful Solitude

The Noise

The Underdog And The Stranger

Beautiful Star Of Bethlehem

Elegy

The Harlequin

A Wandering Star

Damsel Of Snow

Dandelion Larceny

Dionysus

The war Widow

Ode to Ethiopia

Anatomy of Rue

Cajoling From A Condor

London

A child's Suffering

En.Citatepedia^®.ro