Carpe Diem
The final breaths closed the chambers
And the treacle taste marauds inside
Licking the hot gazes of vicissitude
Summer is gone before it even starts
Where your myriad whiffs vied to linger
And as it still saunter, I chase
In a field of superfluous mazes
Serendipity held like a prayer
For salvation and for grace
And in the summer haze, may
A body catch a body,
Souls entwine with infinity
And before it beckons
The fastidious times of holiday
Or abeyance's anthem
I hope to seize the days
Without rues or nays
And in a locket, a compass
May I seal the vast
Memories of the final taste
Precipitated at the bottom
Of the spangling goblet
Now winnowed in a haste.
poem by Norman Santos
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Related quotes
Short of Breath
One breath, two breaths, three breaths, four,
my breathing’s weak and my chest is sore.
Five breaths, six breaths, seven breaths, eight,
I have to breathe deeply at a slower rate.
One breath, two breaths, three breaths, four,
I’m four breaths closer than I was before.
Five breaths, six breaths, seven breaths, eight,
my mouth’s wide open, but I can’t inflate.
One breath, two breaths, three breaths, four,
it’ll be the end when I breathe no more.
Five breaths, six breaths, seven breaths, eight,
I’m sure someone's rattling heaven's gate.
One breath, two breaths, three breaths, four,
well that’s it, I can't count no more.
poem by Orlando Belo
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Take The Lid Off The Pot
Just take the lid off the pot
Savor all the flavor
Take the lid off the pot
Savor all the flavor
Take the lid off the pot
And savor all the flavor
That's inside of the pot
To then taste what that pot has got
It's been long in simming
With select ingredients
Mouths drool and this is seen
With a stirring up the scent
Eyes are watering with dreams
Now's the time to dip in and get eating
To stop the teasing that was meant
Take the lid off the pot
Savor all the flavor
Take the lid off the pot
Savor all the flavor
Take the lid off the pot
And savor all the flavor
That's inside of the pot.
To then taste what that pot has got
Delicious is the stew
To satisfy those licking lips
Deliciously it soothes
For those who sit and wish
With a wanting more of it!
Just take that lid off the pot
To savor all the flavor
Take the lid off the pot
Savor all the flavor
Take that lid off the pot
And savor all the flavor
That's inside of the pot
To then taste what that pot has got.
'What's the matter? '
There's none left!
'What are you saying?
What do you mean? '
It's gone
All of it
So
Take those memories you've got
And reminisce those wishes
That was inside that pot
There is not even a drop!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A Subtle Summer
summer starts
we're never apart
always and forever
summer ends
now we're just friends
waiting for tomorrow
angel blue eyes
final goodbyes
make my heart break
a subtle summer is all it takes
poem by Jessica Galvan
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Depression Is A Disease
Depression is a disease like that of HIV.
It starts as something small,
Something that you can control.
If you never tell?
If no one ever sees?
If no one ever knows?
If no one ever tells?
The minute hand is ticking.
Your time is being counted.
Then all of a sudden
It hit you from nowhere.
Just like HIV becomes aids
As the time passes.
Depression,
Depression soon becomes
A suicidal tragedy.
It spreads
It spreads
You hear the sounds
Of screams for help.
Taste the stories in the tears
Able to see how much pain
There is inside
By the number of scars,
The amount of blood,
And how deep the cuts are.
The answers are their
But your eyes are closed
Your heart is closed
Your mind is in denial.
poem by Jessica Hernandez
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Toxic Treacle
The verisimilitude of grandiose
Sprawled in a perfidious repose
On the bassinet of filth
Of infinite clockwork:
A fairytale or drudgery,
And the ephemeral mirth:
Sufficient enough to be grandiosity
Parallel to my atrocious veracity
I need the treacle poison.
I want to touch your face
As everyone else does
But frost bites in your iron mask
Can I graze the quelled sun
Beneath the facile veneer?
Because as much as I despise you
I want your lethal treacle
To meander in my plagued throat
I need the treacle poison.
Because I am so alone
That I hate people for carousing
Whilst I squander in a soliloquy
With my own loneliness
Now abandoning me
As the dawn rouses at four A.M.
And jealousy notched in
In my solitary confinement
I need the treacle poison
I wanted to cradle a poetry
But I never had the facility
I have never been anywhere,
I have never been anyone;
Please, cut the cord of this soliloquy
Because I can be very cold
To my bleak incertitude
Yes, I do abandon myself
For I need the treacle poison.
poem by Norman Santos
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Prophet
The prophet of isolation
Fascinated by loves incarnations
With inspiration from every cursing bliss
With tears in every closed fist
Voices confused, melodies in charge
She wants to get out from the practicing alarm
Torn in pieces, with a child’s cry
Reviving my foggy fall
Beside, inside, without
My vanishing sound
Can’t you hear I’m fading away?
On the market of smiles and cries
Torture orange, torture blue
They disturb the balance of her wiev
Strange circles on every photo
Black color that starts to gnaw
A hand, broking my neck
Whispering to my shadow
Licking up my blood
Writing with it on my arms
With its head inside me
Meanwhile it gnaw on my heart
Its eyes tell me...
I’m back at the start
poem by Not A Dream Choice
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How To Meditate
To be in meditation,
You must be with yourself,
Forgetting about the rest.
One way of practicing it
Is count your normal breaths,
A hundred or for ten minutes.
Lying on ground, deep in thought,
Eyes closed, with alarm timing,
You can watch breaths for more good.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Summer Once Again
The seasons goes by.
Fall is when every this starts falling asleep,
Winter is when everything is a slumber
But not theones how are awake.
Spring is when everything starts comeing alive.
But Summer is the season when everything is alive,
When the Flowers are folly blom,
The leave are green and dancing in the wind.
Summer is worm,
Summer is when all the birds sing,
Summer is my beloved season.
When My beloved summer comes i am happy,
When my beloved summer comes I live.
But when it ends I am sad.
Until next year I will wait.
poem by Sandy Kulchyski
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Taste The Summer
Can you, can you taste the summer?
I do, I find it in your mouth
Now if I have a weakness it's for sweetness
And it's floating on your breath, the sweetest melody
Doo doo doo doobeedoo
Can you taste the summer?
Sure we can make it till the evenings
Cool haze is reflected off your thighs
Long days are coming up and staying up and playing
Music of the falling stars, a melody (melody...)
Doo doo doo doobeedoo
Can you taste the summer?
Wild orcid on the wind you know
Just where it's blowing
So fresh, fromyour lips is born the melody
Doo doo doo doobeedoo
Can you taste the summer?
song performed by by Duran Duran
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Summer's End
Gone are the summer wildflowers
those many, subtle scented breaths
that once allured nectar seekers
and me to their wild colonies.
But now those lifeless peduncles
that once bore inflorescent blooms
decay amidst a grand graveyard
of myriad, deciduous dead.
Gone are the summertime players:
the honeybees and bumblebees,
butterflies and dragon flies
mulberries and elderberries;
brief were the roles each had played
in their own, spectacular way.
poem by Albert Ahearn
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Outside And Inside
this early morning
the rains are raging
outside is a rampage of
blown leaves and trees
you are afraid may
finally be uprooted
in the room
the brown dog sleeps
beside a wooden wall
on the floor
the glass doors
& windows are closed
the silence reigns
inside you begin
on another journey
you began last night
on some short breaths
until you think
you had a nice sleep
inside there is something
that rages
it is not the wind or the rain
it is something else
that you want to know
more & more
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Tale Of Dusty & Pistol Pete
Dusty screams, through doors and imaginary floors
why cant you miss me?
Pistol pete removes the final breaths from her unkind and she is shaken
What does this mean in love or in peace?
With you lying next to me
So faithless serene
And she calls to him
Let the waste cross the ancient trails to you
Far out beneath the sorrow clouds
Let them taste the bitter lost mistake of you
Let them cry out through your rusted scars
Alone he roams inside the ordinary catacombs of her waiting
With raven hands she steals and staggers towards her man
Still scorned by his demon
Because hes undone
Become the language of
Disaster and love, vengeance and dust
And she calls to him
Let the waste cross the ancient trails to you
Far out beneath the sorrow clouds
Let them taste the bitter lost mistake of you
Let them cry out through your rusted scars
Dusty screams, through doors and imaginary scenes
Of hurt and teardrop
As he holds her down, in the cold lonely winds
Together again, her inside him
And she calls to him
Let the waste cross the ancient trails to you
Far out beneath the sorrow clouds
Let them taste the bitter lost mistake of you
Let them cry out through your rusted scars
song performed by by Smashing Pumpkins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Before Your Gates
The splendor of the slivered water
entices like a pleading aubade
lost in the myriad of faces
reflecting each other's banality
and enunciating the raw grandeur
the moon descried in your pits
and the treacle in my chasms
deluged like a torrent zephyr
with a halcyon volition to break
before your adamant gates
poem by Norman Santos
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Chambers (Funeral Home and Crematorium) House of Horrors
Forty body bags thrown atop with each other
Labeled for cremation
Among them were women, men, children, fathers, mothers, sister and brothers
To be burnt to ash, that was their destination,
All rested inside a garage
Bodies decomposing
Their bodies leaked fluids through the bag
I guess they were not Zip-Lock bags
The funeral home had a contract with Georgetown Medical School,
William Chambers said that things were in disarray
What a frickin' fool!
His brother Tom denied any culpability
For this unsanitary, immoral, and most likely illegal fray.
Some of the bag tags were unidentifiable
Due to the immense leakage from the inside
The smell must've been grotesquely foul
Yet the Chambers Brothers did something wrong, you ask?
They flatly denied.
The mortuary license the Chambers had had been suspended last Friday
They have to cremate the bodies that they have in their possession
A&E should do a 'Hoarding' special series on Chambers Brothers.
So much for this observation.
poem by Joe Rosochacki
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Defenestration
Summer passed by the window pane
With a moribund myriad of sunsets
Leaving tricks of soldering sweat
That dissipates too easily in a gush
Like how the dampen tears of mire tousled
Into the affluent scorches of the hearth
And with everything passing by
Like eloquent taillight's goodbye
I found myself in the window pane
Musing with eager eyes and stealthily
Trying to pocket surreal painted memories
But somewhere in the vivid montage
The lucidity becomes agonizingly piercing
That it cuts to the flesh and evokes
Unwanted phantoms of ubiquity and perpetuity
Such abstraction of beauty
Reckoning what will never be
And the maudlin that I am becoming
Sates eagerly in the glacial and lifeless
Palm of the window cradling my thawing face
Winter came with slivers of white
Plummeting immaculately into the ground
And stocking hills in my windowsill
Like the coy elusive tears in my lids
Cliff hanging in incertitude, false hope's servitude
Hapless as the sporadic flight of vicissitude
And the mistral mantle swooned completely
Here goes the malady rapping on the glass
The harbinger of the churning machinism of direst
Yonder the melting of the thin ice
And its smooth moiré of aqueous white
Autumn crawls down into its staircase
With such complacent grace, in eager pace
Crackling maple leaves into the charred sole—
A glissando of cacophonies all too sore
Like debris and remnants of a burned home
Autumn shed its skin in a burlesque show
Whilst my vision doze riveted in the window
Fore the blossoming of the prairie, I grazed
And trample into the superfluous cloys
The balmy scent about to spring and rouse
And before the final clout, the sugary kiss of death
And the saccharine words of the final text
I closed the book, preempting what's next
And the pallid aberrational changes of the season
Had never again crossed and tapped the window
poem by Norman Santos
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In The Harbour: Chimes
Sweet chimes! that in the loneliness of night
Salute the passing hour, and in the dark
And silent chambers of the household mark
The movements of the myriad orbs of light!
Through my closed eyelids, by the inner sight,
I see the constellations in the arc
Of their great circles moving on, and hark!
I almost hear them singing in their flight.
Better than sleep it is to lie awake,
O'er-canopied by the vast starry dome
Of the immeasurable sky; to feel
The slumbering world sink under us, and make
Hardly an eddy,--a mere rush of foam
On the great sea beneath a sinking keel.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Pale Blue Eyes
Sometimes I feel so happy
Sometimes I feel so sad
Sometimes I feel so happy
But mostly you just make me mad
Baby, you just make me mad
Linger on your pale blue eyes
Linger on your pale blue eyes
Thought of you as my mountain top
Thought of you as my peak
A thought of you as everything
Ive had, but couldnt keep
Ive had, but couldnt keep
Linger on your pale blue eyes
Linger on your pale blue eyes
Skip a life completely
Stuff it in a cup
They said, money is like us in time
It lies, but cant stand up
Down for you is up
Linger on your pale blue eyes
Linger on your pale blue eyes
It was good what we did yesterday
And Id do it once again
The fact that you are married
Only proves youre my best friend
But its truly, truly a sin
Linger on your pale blue eyes
Linger on your pale blue eyes
If I could make the world as pure
And strange as what I see
Id put you in a mirror
Id put in front of me
Id put in front of me
Linger on your pale blue eyes
Linger on your pale blue eyes
Linger on your pale blue eyes
Linger on your pale blue eyes
Linger on your pale blue eyes
Linger on your pale blue eyes
Linger on your pale blue eyes
Linger on your pale blue eyes
Linger on your pale blue eyes
Linger on your pale blue eyes
Linger on your pale blue eyes
Linger on your pale blue eyes
Linger on your pale blue eyes
Linger on your pale blue eyes
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It's Summer
It’s summer.
Dogs barking in closed cars.
It’s summer.
Blisters from your new sandals.
It’s summer.
Flabby asses eating their shorts.
It’s summer.
poem by Jane Brunton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Death Series 8 - Falling Leaves
The trees stood tall through early months,
and without hindrance they staked their claim,
'til autumn’s harsh indifference came.
Summer had it's blissful time,
Until autumn’s ending date,
revealing - that autumn is never late.
The season shall begin it’s work,
Turning all to deepest gold,
Taking life, changing young to old.
It shall write a grievous story,
That contains the most final of endings,
Pen poised, it starts the final chapters
To usher in winter’s restful ending.
poem by Ciaran Quirke
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Meditation
Detached inside away
From the kindred inside
Seated on an inside
Inside a closed inside
Awaiting a bloom
Lighting the inside
There, to feel
No inside, outside
poem by Indira Renganathan
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