Stranger Than Your Sympathy
Our shades are obfuscated by our pretense
The metallic colours of your feathers
Frolicked in blue, violet and gray
While you glided and dived in the white
Pallor of amnesia and snide
The angst on my deadpanning face
Your tongue undulating like rails
Of rollercoaster charades
And the vertiginous spiel was left
Unanswered for I was daunted
By an aversive measure against the exodus
A defensive maneuver against the genesis
In my rage, in my face, in my daze
For in the dark any silhouette is a banister
And now that I trampled again unbeknownst
Ceaselessly into your ubiquitous shadow
I saw the true colour behind the blear
The mirage of your profuse skin
A massive black hole gravid
With the mendacity opposing your words
Leaden by the weight of this struggle
In finding pathways that leads back
To your crossroads - always met
By a perfidious water
Where nothing will ever sink
How obstinate have you become?
How unyielding are your iron hands?
How selfish is your enamored eyes?
How different are you from you?
Perhaps I saw more, reeled bigger
Than what your florid tongue can guise
And with this I break upon you
Like an ancient stone erected
In a faceless void without a purpose
You were my fear personified
You were the floodgates that deluged
To take everything away from me
And whilst you roar with your revenge
I am caught in a different vortex
Calculating how we are the same
Our defenses and mendacious atrocity;
And how we are afraid to be different
And how we are defeated by this fear
Rendering our estranged sympathy
I know you pleasure to read this
I've seen your vengeance once
Striding with arrogance
Past fading faces
But I know too;
Your vision is myopic
To ever try to bend backwards
Stranger than the lack of empathy.
poem by Norman Santos
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
An Invitation Back to the Vineyard
Forever was the vesper's smile
Like in a nightmare's mist
An eerie breathing hiss
A servile guise striding along
The strife to escalate living
Throttling the abeyance of breath
With the red hands of gaiety
But the vineyard had no eyes
To witness this profound debauchery
So the trample cat-walked leisurely
Amidst the garden's cloak, I
Reckon with these ancient eyes
The dark that loiters in ubiquity
Under the nubile and florid light
Of the moon's chaste flourishing
Brewing the concoction of
A rose-wine dance of fire
And the whiffs of haughty ivy
Lost in the ghastly mangrove
My vision in an agog pirouette
And in this dour soliloquy stood
A sentry warding off the caterwauls
Endeavoring to disentangle from
The yards' saccharine and agonizing grope
A fiendish comrade that never abandons
Until I moseyed farther from the yard
Where the roots are buried at my feet,
The vines of eloquent wisps are spangling
Like lynches under the moonbeam
In a knot of vehement condensing,
The redolence is preposterously resilient
In a loop of melancholic bitter-sweetness;
Tongue in cheek: steadfast yet flimsy
Cobwebs drifted with an insidious sheen
Tranquilizing the lamp with shrills of fear
But this sentry fire I had held like my skin
That drove the shadows of the vineyard
Back into the cradle, the valley of dying stars
Spits scorches to the cognizance and fraternity
Of the shackles that tethered me here
In this feigned state of inebriation
And splintered me from the vineyard
Where my bones bloomed in desiccation,
Closer and closer, the vineyard closes in
Safe and sound from the horrors
Of the vineyard's myths and lore
The echoes of the cellar, the chateau;
The mooring point of the topple,
The ceiling of vertical trance, and
The pillars, the constitutions,
The home, the shadow, the genesis
And the wine that fills the goblet,
Without my misery, I subsist
In this monopolized purveyance,
In this spinning roulette tryst
But I am rather empty
And now I fear the lack of fear
The distance from the nights
That haunts the grotesque vineyard
Now, I linger with the taste of death
Sauntering in the contours of my tongue
Futilely waiting for the invitation
Back to my crimson deluged walls
And sweet and sour trickled floor
Because home is where I sprouted
My roots and stretched my vines
Tangling with angst and agony
Still, this is where I should putrefy
In the vineyard of dreams on fire
poem by Norman Santos
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Mouth That Has Visions
What can you see
With your eyes shut?
If this is your vengeance,
If this your betrayal,
This is my heroic act
Purging the cholera
Staining your hearts
Pulsing in a scherzo
Of a single waltz.
Because I can see
The yellow blemish
That I have become
In your myopic vision.
What can you see
With your eyes shut?
If this is the ice,
If this is the inferno
Basking in your heart,
This is my honesty
Cutting the cords
Of pseudo-life
That I have found
In your fractions,
Your frictions.
Because I can see,
Even with eyes shut,
The mendacious direction
Of the bleeding of the heart.
What can you see
With your eyes shut?
If this is your panacea,
If this is your poison,
This is the perfidious snake
That slithers into my ankle
Hissing like diamonds
Succumbing everything.
Because I can see
How the demons built
The celestial heaven that
Buoyed your hearts.
How can your tongue
Somersault and skylark a lot
When the sutures are tight
In your albino eyes?
poem by Norman Santos
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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(Murder Poem) Shades Of Black
No empathy, no remorse, no recourse in my actions.
All I see is things in shades of black.
I was abandon as a child.
I'm alone as a man.
The goodness of the damned.
Oh how I wish I had a plan.
Something set in stone.
With many regrets I walk this life feeling like a reject.
A failure all on my own.
I don't need no help from you never did.
No empathy, no remorse, no recourse in my actions.
All I see is things in shades of black.
Their is poison in the water.
Their is treachery afoot.
Oh Oh just come look.
The blood has been spilt and they have no clue I did it you.
I don't even care if they did.
I'll take as many I can.
When everything has gone so wrong.
Sitting staring out the window with a revolver in you in hand.
What choices are left?
No empathy, no remorse, no recourse in my actions.
All I see is things in shades of black.
A nightmare of solutions unfold.
Each bloody as the next.
How can you ever truly live with it.
Settling for only second best.
The black knight ego's of arrogance.
Tunnel vision fills his eyes.
All he's after is the prize.
I doesn't matter who gets hurt on his way to it.
With deliverance I give you pain.
A message from someone who truly insane.
No empathy, no remorse, no recourse in my actions.
All I see is things in shades of black.
No empathy, no remorse, no recourse in my actions.
All I see is things in shades of black.
No empathy, no remorse, no recourse in my actions.
All I see is things in shades of black.
And it is time for my greatest attack.
As if anyone should be proud of such a thing.
The sweat pours off my brow as I become the butcher of butchers.
A dissection of a living to dead body.
Someone help this man, oh please anybody.
The urges to kill won't stop.
They are all hes got.
Taking out all his sexual frustrations.
These escalation will only continue.
They will not just die.
Or move on to a paradise behind the next dawn.
No matter how hard I try.
No empathy, no remorse, no recourse in my actions.
All I see is things in shades of black.
No empathy, no remorse, no recourse in my actions.
All I see is things in shades of black.
No empathy, no remorse, no recourse in my actions.
All I see is things in shades of black.
I feel nothing no more.
I don't know why.
I wish I could fix myself tonight.
I wish I could embrace love once again.
But wishes are nothing but useless thoughts.
The futility of the evil creature I am.
Hated by everyone.
So foul have I become.
A disease that can never be done.
Just kill me now.
To save so many.
Promise me, make your vow.
Cause I won't go down quietly.
I fight it for as long I can.
No empathy, no remorse, no recourse in my actions.
All I see is things in shades of black.
No empathy, no remorse, no recourse in my actions.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Face to Face with future on a late night train.
Caught an image of my future
one dead sky night.
It was fading before me
folding itself back into
its whip mark wrinkles-
compliments of unforgiving time.
Its life flowed in full view
watery red flowing through clear blue.
A river coming to its end.
Ancient banks crumblings into littered rivers.
skull stretching through paper thin skin
reaching out to me
No fresh grass finding sun here.
Future's fragile told me its eyes
Circled cinema screens
From black and white to colour
From daughter to mother
from one life to another.
Dignity neither seen nor felt
yet yearned for.
Future mocks old poems
as the past persues them,
and the present pens them.
Future sees death and smiles
Forever hungry
Thirsty for the fountains of youth.
It pains me to look at her
for her face reveals the truth.
poem by Not Long Left
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Truce
Your nacreous eyes is a mirror
Palled by a multitude of horror
A window swung open
But shuttered by a void emptiness
In its hazel glaze I implored
My own lifeless reflection
Still - like a metallic lake
Concealing a surreptitious daemon
Whilst the myopia of vision won
And stifled any sanguine climate
We never batted an eyelash
In hope for a drifting light
And in fear of total eclipse
So eye to eye, we confabulated
With metaphors and false-analogies
As our thoughts morph into blindness
White as oblivion and black as its shadow
Piercing the robust chamber of life
And the angel's panacea slewed
Into the squalid gutters, it burned
With a pang that perpetuates
Like your voice, when you assured
That crows are black
And pigeons maybe white,
Maybe gray, maybe colorless
And you contended to bring a light
In the ubiquity of shades
But our eyes are older than the hills
That sans our chains and suppressed
Our inner lamentations
And this struggle to put up
With your vindictive stares
Defiles my inner sanctum
For the fortification you gave me
Is now a bastion against your assaults
And truce, I call, upon this white flag
To all the venomous foreseeing,
To all the harlequin tears,
To all the forgotten spur,
To all the farce destruction
I shut my eyes tonight
To sleep and relearn:
Reset the ways
Of the scathing Braille.
poem by Norman Santos
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Open Your Eyes
Lately,
I'm not quite myself.
Maybe,
I do need some help.
Just my confusion,
Trust my delusion.
Don't you,
Regret you met me.
Go through,
These steps to get me,
Back to where we start,
'Fore I fall apart.
If I could black out,
It'd become so clear,
Standing face-to-face with everything I fear.
Watch so closely,
but still I don't see.
As bad as it seems,
a piece of mind I steal,
An ordinary life,
But consequences real.
I'm past the point of reality.
This isn't me,
This isn't you,
When it's just everything we do.
Till you open up your eyes,
and understand this isn't real.
This isn't me,
This isn't you,
This is everything but true,
Till we come to realize,
It's what we put each other through.
It's like a bad dream,
Coming all so true,
Leaving me with nothing else left to do.
Now so helpless,
I'm not so selfish.
Tell me,
How does it feel to have a face like that,
How does it feel to be replaced like that.
Now so faceless,
Do you still feel?
This isn't me,
This isn't you,
When it's just everything we do.
Till you open up your eyes,
and understand this isn't real.
This isn't me,
This isn't you,
This is everything but true,
Till we come to realize,
It's what we put each other through.
It's hard to believe right now,
This seems to be real.
Still phasing by this time,
So why can't I wake up.
This isn't me,
This isn't you,
When it's just everything we do.
Till you open up your eyes,
and understand this isn't real.
This isn't me,
This isn't you,
This is everything but true,
Till we come to realize,
It's what we put each other through.
song performed by by Sum 41
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Eurydice
I
So you have swept me back,
I who could have walked with the live souls
above the earth,
I who could have slept among the live flowers
at last;
so for your arrogance
and your ruthlessness
I am swept back
where dead lichens drip
dead cinders upon moss of ash;
so for your arrogance
I am broken at last,
I who had lived unconscious,
who was almost forgot;
if you had let me wait
I had grown from listlessness
into peace,
if you had let me rest with the dead,
I had forgot you
and the past.
II
Here only flame upon flame
and black among the red sparks,
streaks of black and light
grown colourless;
why did you turn back,
that hell should be reinhabited
of myself thus
swept into nothingness?
why did you glance back?
why did you hesitate for that moment?
why did you bend your face
caught with the flame of the upper earth,
above my face?
what was it that crossed my face
with the light from yours
and your glance?
what was it you saw in my face?
the light of your own face,
the fire of your own presence?
What had my face to offer
but reflex of the earth,
hyacinth colour
caught from the raw fissure in the rock
where the light struck,
and the colour of azure crocuses
and the bright surface of gold crocuses
and of the wind-flower,
swift in its veins as lightning
and as white.
III
Saffron from the fringe of the earth,
wild saffron that has bent
over the sharp edge of earth,
all the flowers that cut through the earth,
all, all the flowers are lost;
everything is lost,
everything is crossed with black,
black upon black
and worse than black,
this colourless light.
IV
Fringe upon fringe
of blue crocuses,
crocuses, walled against blue of themselves,
blue of that upper earth,
blue of the depth upon depth of flowers,
lost;
flowers,
if I could have taken once my breath of them,
enough of them,
more than earth,
even than of the upper earth,
had passed with me
beneath the earth;
if I could have caught up from the earth,
the whole of the flowers of the earth,
if once I could have breathed into myself
the very golden crocuses
and the red,
and the very golden hearts of the first saffron,
the whole of the golden mass,
the whole of the great fragrance,
I could have dared the loss.
V
So for your arrogance
and your ruthlessness
I have lost the earth
and the flowers of the earth,
and the live souls above the earth,
and you who passed across the light
and reached
ruthless;
you who have your own light,
who are to yourself a presence,
who need no presence;
yet for all your arrogance
and your glance,
I tell you this:
such loss is no loss,
such terror, such coils and strands and pitfalls
of blackness,
such terror
is no loss;
hell is no worse than your earth
above the earth,
hell is no worse,
no, nor your flowers
nor your veins of light
nor your presence,
a loss;
my hell is no worse than yours
though you pass among the flowers and speak
with the spirits above earth.
VI
Against the black
I have more fervour
than you in all the splendour of that place,
against the blackness
and the stark grey
I have more light;
and the flowers,
if I should tell you,
you would turn from your own fit paths
toward hell,
turn again and glance back
and I would sink into a place
even more terrible than this.
VII
At least I have the flowers of myself,
and my thoughts, no god
can take that;
I have the fervour of myself for a presence
and my own spirit for light;
and my spirit with its loss
knows this;
though small against the black,
small against the formless rocks,
hell must break before I am lost;
before I am lost,
hell must open like a red rose
for the dead to pass.
poem by Hilda Doolittle
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Adorning Velvet Sensibilities
A faith in fear is no saving grace
Small worlds abound upon the purple journey sought
Small worlds for small gods within which we are caught,
Trampled by a knowledge of un-knowing
Defeated by the acceptance of surrender
Bitter from the chill of a bleak yet beautiful December.
I Promise To Pan
That Never Shall I Fail
In Being The Man I Am
And That Forever Shall I sail
The blue abyss to know
The warmth beneath the desert’s snow.
The journey purple bends my mind
It leaves me wild and hard to find
Lost within my kingdoms dream
Where nothing’s real or as it seems.
Here I am, awaiting a flicker of emotion to rise
Staring stone dead statuettes in their eyes
Awaiting breath anew to be cast by the lips of death.
The curtains are drawn to the sky re born above my tower
Here I am, in need of a shower, black holes swallowing eternity within my eyes.
The void is calling, the fear is falling and we are as shedding skins anew,
Turning bright and vivid colours our feathers that once were blue.
Who could have known?
Who could have shown us the way in our unwinding of the labyrinth?
The god of the corridor is stirred from slumber
Where is the girl I dreamt of devouring he cries?
Under what skies does she move?
Adorning velvet sensibilities
poem by David Lacey
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Wraith King
Cunning eyes of a burning fox,
Wisdom of the adamant ancient tree,
Riveted tongue of stashed lighting
Buried in deafening thunders,
In a dapper veneer; a guise
He had once been a king
But his own brewed tyranny
Ousted him from his regality
And his putrefying power
Is gravid from suppurating
The things that his empire
Gnawed and swallowed
Dour without his cape,
His gilded diadem,
His valiant sword,
Or his vast sovereign
He is a brand new king
Of his own ethereal grounds
Of the old and the dying
He built a new kingdom
Looming before his sun
Cascading like a gray curtain
Of the somnolent scene
Averting his sweltering eyes
Bastion of pseudo-sanguinity,
Turrets of superimposed arrogance,
Sentries of pent-up dread,
And soldiers of rues and regrets
He was a king of slaves
And a slave of his kingdom:
A widower of his power
His queen, his prince;
His proud herald of wealth,
All pawned for the buoy
Of his vigor and verve
Of his power and monarchy
And these possessions he seized
Whilst they bolted him in a room
Where bliss is but a colossal cloud
Made of temporal and lenient gases
A dominion that lurks and mangles
In the shadows of undulating slumber
And slurred wakefulness of inebriations
What a farce decadence it was
To juggle in opposing poles
A tragic phantasms of kingdom
A malignant pang of spasm
For a woebegone sovereign.
poem by Norman Santos
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Connoisseur Phony
The raging timetable demands
his clockwork lungs to edges
and like the sun he rises maladroitly
only to lay back on his bassinet
relentlessly unbeknownst
Amidst the surfeit of innuendos
the mad shuffling provokes
and corrupts his innocuous eyes
Now he sees everything upside down
in a vertiginous kaleidoscope
where colors lost its quintessence
Hands swaying like dissonant pendulums,
heavy nimbuses upon his eyes
the torrent storm rams inside
Larcenous feet gliding downhill,
sutured chest unweaving every wink,
and like the path he dares to tread
his tongue is forked into two
abandoning only to move on,
moving on only to abandon
I caught him in the equinox,
his shadow descending to its home
and as he stared into his reflection
and gazed in the depth of his abyss
I try to feel a little empathy
but I cannot decipher the subtle morose,
I cannot touch the lonely noise
My bones shifted closer to the knives,
my effulgent rivulets ran denser
but the danseuse charade
of the myriad riddles remained
the empty chasm of this silhouette
And it cannot compensate, cannot abate
the sepulchral molt that undraped
the fog-shrouded suppressed fears
and collided with my toppling barricades
poem by Norman Santos
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ravine Of Abortive Bliss And Sorrows
From dancing with your lofty shadows I trampled and lost
The metronome of my shifting pace and the road I wallowed
As pernicious as losing the maps to your own penetralium
The dark conquered my impenetrable but open heart
The hysteria brought upon her livid lightning in my eyes and I raged
My infinitesimal voice ricocheted in your halls but are you estranged
From my voice, dear monoliths? Or was I lost in your wailing corridors?
The immense sky was a watchful eye upon every shift
Like a king in a game of chess restricting my abashed feet
And checking and rivaling every move in a wintery snare
Its glacial and hoarse whimper was an intimidating roar
Its watchfulness stalled the night in these impassable walls
That incarcerated my defenselessness - like an implored aegis
And sometimes like a fluently guised and malingering demise
In this hall, where I am everywhere but no longer hold existence
Disembogued of everything, yet tethered to everything -
A veiled allegiance to the inner burning of angels and demons,
A fortress for all the daunted hope, an albino blindness to mendacity,
A ravine of abortive bliss and sorrow devouring the insubstantial soul
And burying its involution to a death that will bore subsistence
A silver rope hang from the sky and its bony sheen beckoned to me
Like a ray of life in this ethereal death, a banister in this amorphous path
But darkness turned to light and it dissipated into the bright
The lighted wick was charred, its sputtering tongue blown away
With all the shattered dreams as the cold gnashed on my bitter bones
Alone and naked in a nameless and faceless void, I learned
That even the brightest of gold and diamonds succumbs to evanesce
Tiny droplets of the moon showered with milky phosphors
And set a gleaming stain in the sanctum of this ravine, like candles,
And my eyes, beleaguered from resentment, watched my own funeral.
poem by Norman Santos
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pink Reminder
It slithers, the tongue
trying to find
the rage on cold words.
A window
shuts on fire for a deliberate
withdrawl from conflicts.
The virgin iron
becomes a corpse
under the golden
amnesia of hot greens.
The colors are changing
on face
and the silky grass of paradise.
poem by Satish Verma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It All Starts Now
Too many people act as if hope is dead. Just watch the movies, the news, really look at how people treat each other in the office, on the streets. So much pretense, hostility, arrogance, silent killings, so little kindness, patients, appreciation, understanding love and generosity. If people really had faith, if they really believe, in their heart, in their depths they would not be this way. One of the first steps to end the insanity is to face our destructive desires, born and perpetuated out of a lack of love, Lack of EMPATHY, lack of courage, lack of vision. It all starts now. It all ends now. We choose every moment.
poem by Michael Kavuoti
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Fear Itself
Does fear hold us back
From dreams unfulfilled
Love allowed to drift away
Passions allowed to wither
Does fear envelop us
Will we face it all our life
Do we stand behind the curtain of fear
Afraid to audition hope
Fear need not be our anchor
Taking us down
It can steady our bow
Root us to steady growth
Fear restrains us
From escaping the thorns of pain
It misdirects prayer to an unknown
A misbelief wrapped like a mask
Obscuring visions of the future
Though fear may be a curse
It’s a confrontation we must make
Face to face, we cannot break
Let it provide the edge
That from failure comes new challenges
Sweep fear under the rug
So we may tread lightly on its face
Knowing its claws are ready to lure us
Hence we look back for its approach
Success will defeat fear every time
But we must keep the weed killer handy
Fear grows at every concrete corner
And no tombstone can hold it back
So we fight fear as an ever long battle
As we struggle daily to win the war
poem by Alfred Ramos
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Shades Of Gray (Master Backing Track Take 98)
When the world and I were young, just yesterday
Life was such a simple game a child could play
It was easy then to tell right from wrong
Easy then to tell weak from strong
When a man should stand and fight
Or just go along
But today, there is no day or night
Today, there is no dark or light
Today, there is no black or white
Only shades of gray
I remember when the answer seemed so clear
We had never lived with doubt, or tasted fear
It was easy then to tell truth from lies
Selling out from compromise
Who to love and who to hate
The foolish from the wise
But today, there is no day or night
Today, there is no dark or light
Today, there is no black or white
Only shades of gray
It was easy then to know what was fair
When to keep and when to share
How much to protect your heart
And how much to care
But today, there is no day or night
Today, there is no dark or light
Today, there is no black or white
Only shades of gray
Only shades of gray
song performed by by Monkees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lilywhite Lilith
He stands by a middle-aged woman, with a very pale skin who is quietly talking to herself. he discovers she is blind and asking for a guide. whats the use of a guide if you got nowhere to
Uot; asks rael. Ive got somewhere to go, she replies if you take me through the noise, Ill show you. Im a creature of the caves and I follow the way the breezes blow.
He leads her across the room and they leave the crowd, who dismiss their departure as certain to fail.
The chamber was in confusion - all the voices shouting loud.
I could only just hear, a voice quite near say, please help me
Through the crowd
said if I helped her thru she could help me too, but I could
See that she was wholly blind.
But from her pale face and her pale skin, a moonlight shined.
Lilywhite lilith,
She gonna take you thru the tunnel of night
Lilywhite lilith,
She gonna lead you right.
When through the door, the woman leads rael down the tunnel. the light of the chamber soon fades and despite her confident step rael often stumbles in the darkness.
After a long walk they arrive in what rael judges to be a big round cave, and she speaks a second time asking him to sit down. it feels like a cold stone throne.
Rael, sit here. they will come for you soon. dont be afraid. and failing to explain any more she walks off. he faces his fear once again.
When Id led her through the people, the angry noise began to grow.
She said let me feel the way the breezes blow, and Ill show
You where to go.
So I followed her into a big round cave, she said theyre
Coming for you, now dont be afraid.
Then she sat me down on a cold stone throne, carved in jade.
Lilywhite lilith,
She gonna take you thru the tunnel of night.
Lilywhite lilith,
She gonna lead you right.
A tunnel is lit up to the left of him, and he begins to shake. as it grows brighter, he hears a non-metallic whirring sound. the light is getting painfully bright, reflecting as white off the wa
Ntil his vision is lost in a sort of snow blindness.
She leaves me in my darkness,
I have to face, face my fear,
And the darkness closes in on me,
I can hear a whirring sound growing near.
I can see the corner of the tunnel,
Lit up by whatevers coming here.
Two golden globes float into the room
And a blaze of white light fills the air.
song performed by by Genesis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Every Morning Of The Moment, A New Creation
Every morning of the moment, a new creation,
the distillation of the dreams of the night before
when the moon was as fertile as the dew we were born from.
I start out each day with a new face. By nightfall
it's just another phase of the same old ageless deathmask,
heavier than a bell that's been talking through my mouth
for more light years than I've got tears to measure in mirrors.
That's usually when I start thinking like a potato about stars.
Blood sugars in my mindstream ripening me like a vision
I'll only ever get to see backstage like a forlorn clown
trying to hang on to his faith in laughter.
You can pursue happiness, but it will only
run from you like the light, or you can cover your eyes
and try to avoid it for fear of losing it like the last time,
but when you turn around, it's right behind you,
flirting with your shadow. Better to let it come and go
of its own accord, like a waterbird in a moonrise
reflected on a lake. Then when you speak of things
you increasingly know less about the more
you're intimate with them, your voice isn't
a bird net trying to cage words on the fly
but an aviary as open as the sky when
Cygnus and Aquila are up, and the Lyre's
a larynx for the asking. And you're free
to sing your heart out as if no one were listening
but you and the trees and the stars you hit like high-notes.
Or shriek like a rabbit seized by the coydogs
if you run out of lucky feet and that's what comes up
like snake eyes. Lap the experience out of the bone
until there's nothing left to eat but your appetite itself
and among the myriad flavours of life you've exhausted
that will taste the sweetest of all to that emptiness
that harvests the world like a blue moon that's never full.
Is the moon not the equal of its waxing and waning alike?
Is it trying to enlighten its dark side?
When the candle goes out, does the light have any trouble
handling it? Fear returns to what it knows the best.
It hugs the shore like a tidal pool beside the sea,
a dead starfish or two it can get its arms around
like a worm's-eye view of the galaxy, and the shell
of a red sunset in the morning on the carapace
of a crab that left its hovel for a house in
a more upwardly mobile zodiac. Sometimes
it comes down to that. Quantum level gravity.
A gravitational eye with myopia that bends the light
like a stick in the water, a mirage of sand in an hourglass
that's afraid of being swept out to sea
with nothing to hold onto but the lifeboat
of a shucked clam Venus just stepped out of onto land
to have sex in a new medium like an artist
who's just switched from water colours to oils.
You've got to accept the down times as all part
of the same wavelength you've been riding
like a snake scaled in white caps of light
that break on shore in a turmoil of kelp.
The cosmos doesn't need to be put in order
and chaos doesn't need any help. Listen to your sorrows.
Summon them to a seance of yourself
and apologize to their ghosts for not having the voice
to let them speak through you about
learning to swim with the stars further out of your depths
than you've ever been before. First you drown
in the fathomless immensities of even the smallest detail,
and then you bubble back up to the surface
of a multiverse with an oceanic awareness
of what's been hiding under every eyelid of a wave
like a overturned lifeboat that's waking up
to the fact that everything floats like the moon
in the reflection of its own mindstream.
And whatever sail you spot coming up over
your event horizon, whatever constellation
or black hole you take for a sign of salvation
or salvage, it first had to sink
before it could rise to the rescue.
poem by Patrick White
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Can't Break My Fear
get out of me wanting to be
stronger than me you are not me
cause I feel and I fear whatever it is
it can't be what's me
drills out a hole inside my soul
fills out the hole I want you to go
I hear you, I fear you, you're in me
caught in myself like nothing else
deep in my cells you ring the bells
what I feel's as cold as steel whatever it is
it's my achilles heel
can't break my fear
I go out to drink don't have to think
can't find a link, feel like a sink
just to feel none is real whatever helps
to wash the pain away
starting to doubt what I'm about
inside a cloud can't bleed you out
I see you, I fear you, you're not me
hang on so long, until you're gone
I know you're strong and that you're wrong
but I feel and I fear whoever you are
you cut the deepest scar
can't break my fear
cause I am scared! I am scared! I am scared!
I am, I am, I am, I am, I am... scared!!!
can't break my fear
song performed by by H-BlockX
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shades Of Gray
By barry mann and cyntha weil
When the world and I were young,
Just yesterday.
Live was such a simple game,
A child could play.
It was easy then to tell right from wrong.
Easy then to tell weak from strong.
When a man should stand and fight,
Or just go along.
But today there is no day or night
Today there is no dark or light.
Today there is no black or white,
Only shades of gray.
I remember when the answers seemed so clear
We had never lived with doubt or tasted fear.
It was easy then to tell truth from lies
Selling out from compromise
Who to love and who to hate,
The foolish from the wise.
But today there is no day or night
Today there is no dark or light.
Today there is no black or white,
Only shades of gray.
[instumental interlude]
It was easy then to know what was fair
When to keep and when to share.
How much to protect your heart
And how much to care.
But today there is no day or night
Today there is no dark or light.
Today there is no black or white,
Only shades of gray.
Only shades of gray.
song performed by by Monkees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To The Heaven Of Fearlessness
Fear is a mirage
That grows with age
Keeps one in bay
Puts one in disadvantage!
Fear is an illusion
Puts one in delusion
Keeps his mind in pollution
Leads one to privation!
Fear is delirium
Requires 'valium'
kills one for millennium!
Fear of the unknown
Fear of the unseen
Just of the shadow!
Fear of the death
Fear of loss
Just of the ghost!
Fear of failure
Makes one inactive
Funny is the force of fear!
Fear is to be feared
Killer is to be killed
With thought positive
Faith in the Almighty
Sure leads one to plenty
Plenty of peace and poise
Poise that liberates from
The kingdom of fear
And leads to
The Heaven of Fearlessness!
poem by Subbaraman N V
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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