In This Tacit Realm of Crimson Sky
In this tacit realm of crimson sky
where the winds inebriate with
a cloyed saturnalia adrift your breaths
I wallowed, wearing my shoes like
a silent stone skipping a pond
and every step, and every ripple
I shatter unbeknownst of the things
that abjures my puppet strings
in this tacit realm of crimson sky
In this tacit realm of crimson sky
the winter would remain sly
tethered to its autumn boudoir
so I muse upon the field of stones
and graves of flightless flesh
amongst its stellar descries
and whilst you blossom without me
I gorge myself in the saccharine cries
in this tacit real of crimson sky
In this tacit realm of crimson sky
I nurtured my brittle spine
and waxed my shy lacquer
rooted in the epistemological reasons
of the irrational aberrations of the heart
and now the vermillion palette devours
the vertical line raising you horizons -
what had become to my home
in this tacit realm of crimson sky?
poem by Norman Santos
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Crimson Insane
Crimson Love,
who can this be,
Not I,
not you,
nor anybody,
look to crimson so enviously,
smile and grin,
look what you could have been,
Look at crimson now
what do you see?
Falling apart,
a crimson mind shackled yet free,
I'm losing it..... realities touch,
I'm going insane, this life is to much,
Forget all this... but memories remain,
I laugh at the humor, that is crimson insane.
poem by Crimson Love
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Crimson Tide
I wake up in the morning
I see the bright sunshine
O Lord, let be so good
A day to reckon with
I wish the day would speed by
To be with you
O Crimson Tide
O Crimson Tide
I need you my Lady
Come on Crimson Tide
I need you my sweet Lady
Here comes the sunset
Here comes my own sunshine
O Lord let be so good
My day I've reckoned with
I wish the night would slow down
Never to leave you
O Crimson Tide
O Crimson Tide
I need you my Lady
Come on Crimson Tide
I need you my sweet Lady
poem by Kolabomi Adeko
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Reunion Of Blood (Acrostic)
Resurrect this corpse with the shade of dying Crimson
Enter each dropp at the will of my own forsaken hand
Undo nothing for blood shall reunite us two
Nothing stands in the way of what Crimson wants
Indefinite screams I hear from the grave, Beckon me
Onto the bloody alter
Never shall this crimson vein close.
Often I shall reminisce on my sacrificial love,
For you my dear, hold what simple Crimson cannot.
Bathe in my words My veins unwillingly leak,
Let all of me course within your body
Ounce by ounce our blood collides
Often messy, watch this bloody tide,
Death shall visit one last time, to join in this reunion of Blood.
poem by Crimson Love
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Realm of God
light is a realm
that helps us see
another realm
the body is a realm
that helps the soul
see another realm
take away light
take away body
what remains is
the realm of God
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Unworthy Light
The aphotic Depths of this Crimson body,
hold no essence deemed illumination,
Shadow upon shadow fight within this bloody body,
At a loss for such brightness, at a loss for such humanity,
I've been consumed by my demons,
Every granule of light fades as it decends,
falling into the blank slate, that is Crimson.
poem by Crimson Love
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
This Art Work
The love of a muse,
The pen of an artist,
This ink work will teach many yet unborn.
This art is from a realm to guide you,
This art work is like a mustard seed aroun you;
It is original!
It comes from a realm unknown;
It will inspire you.
This art is real to abstract your minds,
The innovative nature of my mind to you all;
It is the act of my dreams beyond imaginations!
This art will teach many,
It will inspire you all that love the muse.
This art work,
It is like a mustard seed;
It will grow to give you joy!
It is like the muse next door,
It will touch and influence you;
This art work ia sll that i have as an artist
This art work is never known,
It is called, 'Pen-Painting Graphics Abstracts'.
This art will teach many,
My innerself from the realm of imaginations!
This art will teach you;
But, the artist is never known.
This art is from a realm to guide you into my heart,
This art is from a realm to bring you into my world,
This is the love of a sweet muse to you all;
This art is from the pen of an artist who,
Is yet to be known.
This art is here to stay,
This art is all that i have for you all;
Cos', he who proves his skills proves his realms.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Crimson Thunder
We are the voices in the dark
Inside the fire we are the
Eternal Spark that will guide the way
We are the stars up in sky
We gather winds so you can fly
We are the light when youre sleeping
All your dreams can come true
Where do we go?
Were just a heartbeat away
Follow the signs of the Crimson Thunder
We will stay by your side
Let our voices be there to guide you
We are forces in the rain
Inside your heart we are the
unending answer to all your fears
So take a step towards the light
The crimson sky fullfills the night
The revelation is near
All your dreams can come true
Where do we go?
Were just a heartbeat away
Follow the signs of the Crimson Thunder
We will stay by your side
Let our voices be there to guide you
Solo: Stefan
All your dreams can come true
Follow the signs of the Crimson Thunder
song performed by by Hammerfall
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Five realms
a realm where
existence is mere eyes
year after year only sights
in sky of no man's land
a realm where
existence is only ears
year after year only sounds,
stone shrouded, loud and dark
a realm where
existence is only taste
year after year a sea
leaping into a crevice of tongues
sharp, bloodred and flipping like snake's
a realm where
existence is only touch
year after year of a roaring
wind passing through haunting plains
a realm where
existence is mere smell
year after year of fragrance
wafting, through a million
fibriletting nostrils of blooms
contented until
the realm of desire
strikes that results in all five
carvorting to each other
for a taste of a wider world
where each would merge
with the other to party on mother earth
with God, devils, angels
the only realm where
all other realms converge
till they are recalled home
to the five separate self contained
realms see, hear, taste, touch, and
smell in a world of enlightenment
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Culture is the tacit agreement to let the means of subsistence disappear behind the purpose of existence. Civilization is the subordination of the latter to the former.
quote by Karl Kraus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Crimson Hues
When the sky is awash with a crimson hues
at twilight time
it’s suppose to mean there is a fair day ahead.
When the sky is awash with a crimson hues
at the dawn rise
it’s suppose to mean there is a stormy day ahead.
Does that only relate to the weather
or does it mean our lives to,
we can only wait and see
the next time there is a crimson hues.
8 November 2009
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Awakening
I wake up in the basement
I'm so hungry
I'm dry
I must be here sleepwalking
Mustn't I?
Getting up from my easy chair looking for my wife
Following a trail of crimson
Spots that lead into the night
Suddenly I realize
I see it all through real eyes
These crimson spots are dripping from my hand
And ooh it makes me feel like a man
song performed by by Alice Cooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Messenger Rose
If you have seen a richer glow,
Pray, tell me where your roses blow!
Look! coral-leaved! and -- mark these spots
Red staining red in crimson clots,
Like a sweet lip bitten through
In a pique. There, where that hue
Is spilt in drops, some fairy thing
Hath gashed the azure of its wing,
Or thence, perhaps, this very morn,
Plucked the splinters of a thorn.
Rose! I make thy bliss my care!
In my lady's dusky hair
Thou shalt burn this coming night,
With even a richer crimson light.
To requite me thou shalt tell --
What I might not say as well --
How I love her; how, in brief,
On a certain crimson leaf
In my bosom, is a debt
Writ in deeper crimson yet.
If she wonder what it be --
But she'll guess it, I foresee --
Tell her that I date it, pray,
From the first sweet night in May.
poem by Henry Timrod
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Crimson Red
Crimson Red,
Hatred,
Love,
Sunset,
Beauty,
Setting Night,
Warmth,
Light,
All these and maybe more,
Are shown by Crimson Red,
A color very valiant,
A color that's not dead,
One that brings beauty,
So divine that is,
Warmth to those that touch it,
Hatred in the hearts,
When felt at full blast,
A gleam of sunset,
Setting near,
A setting night,
Bringing light,
Not forgetting, embraced love,
Like one bird, with a dove,
Crimson Red is what's in life,
But not in all areas,
In some, the word doesn't exist,
But here, it's part of life,
Crimson Red, never dead...
poem by Viraj Bhanshaly
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Court Of The Crimson King
The dance of the puppets
The rusted chains of prison moons
Are shattered by the sun.
I walk a road, horizons change
The tournaments begun.
The purple piper plays his tune,
The choir softly sing;
Three lullabies in an ancient tongue,
For the court of the crimson king.
The keeper of the city keys
Put shutters on the dreams.
I wait outside the pilgrims door
With insufficient schemes.
The black queen chants
The funeral march,
The cracked brass bells will ring;
To summon back the fire witch
To the court of the crimson king.
The gardener plants an evergreen
Whilst trampling on a flower.
I chase the wind of a prism ship
To taste the sweet and sour.
The pattern juggler lifts his hand;
The orchestra begin.
As slowly turns the grinding wheel
In the court of the crimson king.
On soft gray mornings widows cry
The wise men share a joke;
I run to grasp divining signs
To satisfy the hoax.
The yellow jester does not play
But gentle pulls the strings
And smiles as the puppets dance
In the court of the crimson king.
song performed by by King Crimson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Some theists in evolutionary science acquiesce to these tacit rules and retain a personal faith while accepting a thoroughly naturalistic picture of physical reality.
quote by Phillip E. Johnson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
There are moods in which one feels the impulse to enter a tacit protest against too gross an appetite for pure aesthetics in this starving and sinning world. One turns half away, musingly, from certain beautiful useless things.
quote by Henry James
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Pique not woman.
Even a whore has a womanly pride.
Don’t take any woman for a ride.
Her tacit assent can slide to your side
In your piquing not theleast her pride.
06.10.2000
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sunsets With A Crimson Colour
We paint our sunsets with crimson colours
a sign of a brighter day tomorrow.
We paint our earth with blues and green,
the oceans, lakes and land.
However, we paint ourselves invisible
with the use of slight of hand.
How long will we paint with colours
if we carry on the way we do.
The crimson will become a dusty brown
for the dust cloud we created.
The green will become black,
chard and empty of everything.
The waters that were blue
will run red with the dead,
polluted beyond repair,
unless we open our eyes now
and our world we start to take care.
Hopefully, then once again we can paint
our sunsets with a crimson colour.
3 September 2011
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Of all the passions of mankind, the love of novelty most rules the mind. In search of this, from realm to realm we roam. Our fleets come loaded with every folly home.
quote by Shelby Foote
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Saturnalia
He picked up his cigarette
With his nimble hands
And dropped his malaise
On his nimbus smile
He moored his trepidation
Amidst looming trees
Sated with voraciousness
Gaunt as his mortality
They tread a rivulet
Of agog prancing fire
And picked up his ashes
In his sinewy veins
And fanned his qualms
In a tacit realm
He plucked out a thorn
Riveted in his rib cage
And stomped on the fertility
Of the garden in his hands
Unsullied but squalid
Lanterns in blossom
While its tangled roots finagled
With the cajoles of the heart
The saturnine seethes of flame
Tingled the oceanic eyes
And he picked up his glass
And drank its serrations
He swathed his bleeding tongue
With a rasping sedation
He picked up the moon
Fallen from the night
He cried for its unrivaled doom
And the mirroring blight
He plied the gossamer
And the desiccation of the sea
But he never grew pale
So he picked up a star
To hung a chandelier
And flicked on the light
Of a transient thrill
Denying oblivion's shrill
In a ravine of coiled lynches
He picked up himself
And squandered it away
And there was no fear
Just a stark demise
poem by Norman Santos
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!