Black Bird
Welcome to the cycle
of my metamorphosing
reason and unreasoning
The overabundance of my
ruminating transitions
for in my soliloquy
everything sinks
Like the tired sunset
leaning on a pillar
engulfed by my garish plumes
and flustered glacial air
And these stagnant trees
that I passed by
leaving me rooted deep
in their irony
I was born by the maudlin night
fecundated by her brooding
with peripatetic wings
that only flies in the dark
of a panther-lurking night
to escape from the misery
my tarnished sleep had hatched
Like the clockwork of migration
darkness wants more blackness
for I revel with death
in her celestial pantheon
so I darted through the void
without a flinch or recoil
because in me
everything sinks.
poem by Norman Santos
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Related quotes
Let The Night Sleep
Let the night sleep
Sleep for ever deep
With the night I sleep
Beyond the world to peep
Universe will sleep
Plants and trees
Birds and bees
Stars and moon
To sleep very soon!
Fruits and flowers
Joy with showers
Will sleep with me and the night
Not to keep the life very tight!
No dawn of the day
Right upto the dooms day!
Sleep permanent
In the world impermanent
I'll sleep without light
My agonies will sleep
My worries will sleep
My pains will sleep
My sins will sleep!
While in sleep
I am pure
I am peace
I am noble!
While my body is asleep
Awake my soul I keep
Sleep akin to death
Death akin to sleep in mirth?
Let the night sleep
Sleep for ever deep
With night I sleep
Sleep to eternity
Soul to merge in Divinity!
poem by Subbaraman N V
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When The Sun Goes Down
sun tan toes
ticklin' the sand
cold drink chillin in my right hand
watchn the sleep from the evnin light
restin up for a long long night
(chorus)
cause when ths sun goes down
we'll be grooven
when ths sun goes down
we'll be fellin alright
when ths sun sinks down
over the water
everithing gets hotter
when ths sun goes down
All day long just takin it easy
Layin in the hammock where its nicen breezy
and sleepin off the night before
cause when the sun goes down
well be back for more
(chorus)
This old guitar and my dark sunglasses
This sweet concaution is as sweet as molasses
Nothing to do but breath all day
until the big moon rises and its time to play
(chorus)2x
When the sun goes down
We'll be groovin
When the sun goes down
We'll be feelin' alright
When the sun sinks down over the water
everything gets hotter when the sun goes down
When the sun goes down
We'll be groovin
When the sun goes down
We'll be feelin' alright
When the sun sinks down over the water
She thinks Krackers sexy when the sun goes down
hmmm
We'll be feelin' alright
When the sun sinks down over the water
Uncle Kennys hotter when the sun goes down
When the sun goes down all we'll be groovin
When the sun goes down hey Uncle Kenny
When the sun goes down over the water
everything gets hotter when the sun goes down
song performed by by Kenny Chesney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Little Black Bird
little black bird of Lia
flying away to Arizona
how is that little black
bird? what is it doing
in the desert? watching
how God paints a very
red orange sunset and
how the wind of the night
erases everything? Little
Black bird of Lia, what
is the reason for the
the leaving of devotion?
is sincerity still found
on that desert flower
blooming without water?
the cactus and some thorns
my loneliness deep like
the desert night, my longing
wide like the wind, my
illusions that life still
imitate art, that i can be
myself. Blackness and wings.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Void
By Samuel Sweetnam
Cold is the Void
That is what we are not
That is where we are to go
That is what we are to become
Dark is the void
That steals the night
That fills the heart
Of the greedy man
Black is the void
That hides the lost
That feeds the beast
That hunts the good
The void is cold
The void is dark
The void is black
The void is torture
If the void is all
We are to become
Then what is left
Is there no hope?
For one small child
Born one dark night
Among the void
Consuming the night
He brought the life
He brought the hope
Some two thousand years ago
He brought us light
So remember this
My dear friend
Of the babe born
On Christmas morn
He brought the Warm
He brought the light
He brought the Love
Among the night.
poem by Samuel Sweetnam
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Chaotic Beauty
The sky transitions from morning to night
Darkness fills around us like a blanket waiting to suffocate us
When we fall asleep we think that our troubles will go away
But when we wake up they pester at us even more
The sky transitions from day to night
The sky does not sleep
And neither do our troubles
So as the sky tansotions from night to morning
We face our problems head on
But everyday
Every hour, minute and second new problems appear
Our world is total chaos that will never be tamed.
Every Single Sound I Listen To; Patience.
Asphyxiated with filthy airs and warmth.
Not knowing and unable to recognize freshness no longer.
Every single day and night..
Smothered by pungent consisting filth and warmth.
Every single day and night.
Engulfed by the filthy filth surrounding my space between anxiety and worries.
Every single day and night.
Adding up to hopeless believing.
Beliefs in oneself to stay strong to survive.
Every single day and night.
Irony, irony, irony.
Nothing comes nothing goes.
Everything comes, nothing left.
Every single day and night, it attacks.
With such might i didnt possess which i wish i did.
Trying to calm my tears rather than my nerves.
Calming my tears and holding back my nerves.
Holding back my tears and calming my nerves.
Calming those tears and holding back my nerves.
Holding back my tears and calming my nerves down.
Deprived.distort.discontinoushit.
Eve ry single day and night.
Patience rooted deep in my head.
Rooted deep in my brain; patience.
Patience in this brain for this filth i breathe.
Patience in this brain excites this filth and triggers the angst.
Every single day and night.
Wisdom to enrich intelligence.
Wisdom to empower failure of being cheated.
Cheated over the matter of time.
Patience once again present for the time.
Every single day and night.
Distracted by comfort of souls.
Closely souls in my heart and in my eyes.
Converse vivaciously.
Souls that lingers almost 20 hours of my time.
Every single day and night.
Every single day and night.
Every single day of nights' day.
Patience.
Pays off.
Every single time.
poem by NurWilmy Francis
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Slumber-Song
Sleep; and my song shall build about your bed
A paradise of dimness. You shall feel
The folding of tired wings; and peace will dwell
Throned in your silence: and one hour shall hold
Summer, and midnight, and immensity
Lulled to forgetfulness. For, where you dream,
The stately gloom of foliage shall embower
Your slumbering thought with tapestries of blue.
And there shall be no memory of the sky,
Nor sunlight with its cruelty of swords.
But, to your soul that sinks from deep to deep
Through drowned and glimmering colour, Time shall be
Only slow rhythmic swaying; and your breath;
And roses in the darkness; and my love.
poem by Siegfried Sassoon
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Mother Night
Eternities before the first-born day,
Or ere the first sun fledged his wings of flame,
Calm Night, the everlasting and the same,
A brooding mother over chaos lay.
And whirling suns shall blaze and then decay,
Shall run their fiery courses and then claim
The haven of the darkness whence they came;
Back to Nirvanic peace shall grope their way.
So when my feeble sun of life burns out,
And sounded is the hour for my long sleep,
I shall, full weary of the feverish light,
Welcome the darkness without fear or doubt,
And heavy-lidded, I shall softly creep
Into the quiet bosom of the Night.
poem by James Weldon Johnson
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Lonely
I am lonely
very, very lonely
as I sit here every night.
My heart has passed
the impossible dream
and waits as the darkness calls.
I am lonely
very, very lonely
as I sit here every night.
No one to comfort me
in the wee small hours
before night turns into day.
I am lonely
very, very lonely
as I sit here every night.
Watching the lights go out
as every sleep head
against a pillow falls.
Leaving me lonely
very, very lonely
as my companion of darkness
every night comes to call.
26 March 2008
poem by David Harris
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~Knight~
How dark that shadow you cast
over moonlight's silver strings,
You masked to blackest pitch
it is the night you bring.
Under moon high and laying low
within your raven wings,
I toss about throwing stars out
alighting far darkened things.
Wanes the moon who paled too soon
for knight his sword is swift,
When falls upon cleaves deep and long
until his darkness lifts.
7-1-06
version 2
How dark the shadow that's cast
upon moonlight's silver strings,
You, masked to blackest pitch
It is the night you bring.
Under moon high and laying low
within your raven wings,
Tossing about, burning stars out
Blacken far-darkened things.
Waning moon who pales too soon
The knight, his sword sinks swift,
When falls upon cleaves deep and long...
Until his darkness lifts.
poem by Sinnaminsun Sinnaminsun
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Sunset
Slowly the west reaches for clothes of new colors
which it passes to a row of ancient trees.
You look, and soon these two worlds both leave you
one part climbs toward heaven, one sinks to earth.
leaving you, not really belonging to either,
not so hopelessly dark as that house that is silent,
not so unswervingly given to the eternal as that thing
that turns to a star each night and climbs-
leaving you (it is impossible to untangle the threads)
your own life, timid and standing high and growing,
so that, sometimes blocked in, sometimes reaching out,
one moment your life is a stone in you, and the next, a star.
poem by Rainer Maria Rilke
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The Blackness Of The Black Black Night
THE BLACKNESS OF THE BLACK BLACK NIGHT
The blackness of the black black black night
The blackness inside-
‘The wretch concentred all in self’
Why oh I oh I oh I?
A million times the question comes
Focusing only on number one.
Who are we
And what can we be
If we are only
‘me me me’?
The blackness of the black black night
The blackness deep deep inside
Why oh why oh why oh
Always always always ‘I’?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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People, People, Lovely Little People
The crooning
Of the clocks,
The redundant
Machinism:
I am undaunted.
People
Too tired
Bereft of sleep,
Of reason,
Of life,
Of sex and fire,
Drugs and magic,
Souls raw
With soliloquy.
People
Too scared
To fall off ledges,
Off beds,
Off their skins,
To the pits,
The bottomless submissions
And the tasteless thrills.
And it’s either
They take you
Away,
Or you
Drive them
Astray.
People, people,
Lovely little people
What are you doing?
It’s too late
To be just slumbering
Inside yourselves
Love battles,
Hatred sinks
Into seas,
Sins lurk,
The temptations
Are ubiquitous
Small wonders
Into immense
Waves of
Peccadilloes and
Surrender.
Come now,
People,
People,
Lovely people.
poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr
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Love Song To The Coming Morning
I'm like night in the sunset
Feeling red clouds in the sky
Wind in the trees full of breeze
Swirling up leaves so they fly
Meadows and hills shades in blue
Flowers in silver and gold
Darkness comes so untrue
Fairies in the moonlight hard to hold
Magical moments in twilight
Breaking off silences with a song
Leaving the day coming to night
Shadows are still though young
I'm like night in the sunset
Touching the moments that go
Into umbrage of absurdities
That lived in the day a while ago
Lilies and fields are in darkness
Moon is behind a blue cloud
Day shall wake up in dawn fresh
When dusky shadows are disallowed
poem by Peter S. Quinn
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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
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How to Die
Darkness looms
on folded wings
cold and undeniable.
But its flight stalls,
as life rages on.
Red Infection flares
in your pale blood,
your tired heart savaged
by thin assassins.
Should you go now
into Dylan’s good night
where faint stars
call softly to your wasted soul?
Yes
enter
the gentle void
deeply breathe dark waters,
and all your pain will drown
in a sudden flood of
Nothing
No
Your
fi erce soul shrinks
from this gracious night;
You fight for bitter light.
Raw pain is better
than vacuous rest
In death’s stark nest.
poem by Steven Federle
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I love the night passionately. I love it as I love my country, or my mistress, with an instinctive, deep, and unshakeable love. I love it with all my senses: I love to see it, I love to breathe it in, I love to open my ears to its silence, I love my whole body to be caressed by its blackness. Skylarks sing in the sunshine, the blue sky, the warm air, in the fresh morning light. The owl flies by night, a dark shadow passing through the darkness; he hoots his sinister, quivering hoot, as though he delights in the intoxicating black immensity of space.
quote by Guy de Maupassant
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Crows
THEN, suddenly, I was aware indeed
Of what he said, and was revolving it:
How, in the night, crows often take to wing,
Rising from off the tree-tops in Drumbarr,
And flying on: I pictured what he told.
The crows that shake the night-damp off their wings
Upon the stones out yonder in the fields,
The first live things that we see in the mornings;
The crows that march across the fields, that sit
Upon the ash-trees' branches, that fly home
And crowd the elm-tops over in Drumbarr;
The crows we look on at all hours of light,
Growing, and full, and going these black beings have
Another lifetime!
Crows flying in the dark
Blackness in darkness flying; beings unseen
Except by eyes that are like to their own
Trespassers' eyes!
And you, old man, with eyes so quick and sharp,
Who've told me of the crows, my fosterer;
And you, old woman, upon whose lap I've lain
When I was taken from my mother's lap;
And you, young girl, with looks that have come down
From forefathers, my kin ye have another life
I've glimpsed it, I becoming trespasser-
Blackness in darkness flying like the crows!
poem by Padraic Colum
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The Moonless Timelessness Of Yalda
The rustles of the rainy dawn frightens the bowing trees
And the stammering lances shear the curtains of somnolence
The sun was ousted from the smeared clouds along with all
The morning songs of the canaries and the gaunt earth regressed
Underneath the mellifluous whispers of the smoky blanket
The devious swaying of the pendulum staggered for symmetry
With its wavering subdued and unnoticed, it found its poise
In a vertical divide it lay asleep, and time was suddenly mine
A riddle hoisted in a queen's repose at the notch of my head
Pulling strings and knotting gnarled quiescence, of suddenly
The time I owned owned me in her nonexistence, and the equinox
Remained elusive to the treacherous moonless and pouring sky
Its enthralling spell beckoned a metallic silence and the absence
Of the thousand points that drifts to collect the quintessence
Of this perforated globe, and with all these reasons and unreasoning
Sank into the pits of evanescence; I came to face a different face of the day -
An endless night devoid of time, wearing a filigree of arctic sighs - a yalda
These masquerading days and empty nights fled through the sly gutters
Of girdling eclipses; a timeline of dark lattices and abysmal musing
I stared into the contumely moue of the gray sky as it obliviously poured
Its frosty mourn in a blighted land of intertwining dusks and dawns
And from this tête-à-tête to the abeyance of light I learned a subtle pain,
A forlorn despondence that will not be mended by a valiant or broken heart
Because this groveling pride of moonlessnes is a fix - a sense of sensibility
Because I have learned the pedagogy of a bony moon's waning,
A starlights oscillating sparks and a two-faced sky's haughty shifting;
But I have never learned to molt with time and this agelessness
Had crippled my veins in a squalid wisdom for beauty and I'm growing tired:
Too tired to wish for the moon to rise from the frothing waves,
Too tired to repair the spigot of heavens that never err to sojourn;
Too tired to rival the inner darkness of this timelessness.
In this godly palm of darkness I lay alone but festooned
By the myriad gregarious transitions of interpolating voices -
Voices hauled from the vile blackness of the oceanic past
Telling me that you are still warm and alive in a transatlantic path
That crosses this land every once in a while in a guise
That shall beckon how you came and left - an arid cold pang
That crawled the dermis of life like an invitation to death;
Saddled in every whim of the reedy air, falling with every weeping drizzle,
A company to the misery lurking in the ubiquitous blindness
That this season of howling wolves and hooting owls,
Of brawling terrors basking in the foliage of cobwebs
Spewed in the intoxicating smoke of this yalda.
poem by Norman Santos
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New Born Baby
If only I could come
and more and more
and night light shed its wings of fire
leaving me in a darken path
and long keep me with empty pocket
and to kiss empty glass
but today is the night
with joy of a new born baby
just not another night
only if I could walk with you
with full of money to drink with you
with night after night to shed
Ripples of song
and a kisses of new born baby
but today is desserted
with empty pocket to enjoy
in search of you
Whenever there is a darkness,
I thank you understand my ways
poem by Thampi KEE
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