Sun Seeker
The round yellow face
Can see beneath the veneer
Of armadillo artillery
Its gaze soldering the daunted soul
To molt an inclement aversion
And in its abysmal eyes
Stood an archenemy
Mocking the rage in my face
Leaning on an obtuse obsidian
Unseeing eyes staring daggers
So I burrowed into the dark
But in the pall of jet black
I can only coil at peace
With the warm memory of the sun
Lingering in these burns
And his superfluous rays
Percolating the stained sieves
I would never be alone
Cadenced with these secrets
In this desolate black hole
As long as I seek for it.
poem by Norman Santos
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Related quotes
black as night, Elvyra
Watch out they'll say,
she'll come and get you,
black as night Elvyra,
will take your soul,
leaving you with nothing,
you'll never see another,
as dark and souless as her,
you wait and see,
i know what they'll say of me,
black as night Elvyra
They'll say she dances,
with the devil,
that she plays with fire,
that black as nite Elvyra,
you wait and see,
i know what they'll say of me,
Black as night Elvyra
look at her they'll say,
how dark with doom and gloom,
black as night elvyra,
look at her face,
pale as pale,
her black lips,
her black eyes too,
you wait and see,
i know what they'll say of me,
Black as night Elvyra
skinny and pale they'll say,
with raven black hair to opose,
Black as night Elvyra,
she knows your secrets,
whispers from your depths,
watch out for me,
you wait and see,
I'm Black as night Elvyra
poem by Jess Terry
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The other me....
Black angel, dark face
Alive in time and space,
Black angel darkest day
Shall always find the way.
There is this other me
Who lies inside and hide
Comes forth with any fight
And always in the dark of night.
Black angel
Strong and wild,
Black angel
Never mild.
Sleeping in the day
When the sky is blue,
Then shows a dark face
When darkness comes through.
Black angel
Falling sin,
Black angel
All within.
poem by Deep Dark Soul Poet
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Esther, A Sonnet Sequence: XII
She was a little woman dressed in black,
Who stood on tiptoe with a childish air,
Her face and figure hidden in a sacque,
All but her eyes and forehead and dark hair.
Her brow was pale, but it was lit with light,
And mirth flashed out of it, it seemed in rays.
A childish face, but wise with woman's wit,
And something, too, pathetic in its gaze.
In the bare dusk of that unseemly place
I noted all, and this besides, a scar
Which on her cheek had left a paler trace.
It seemed to tell its tale of love and war.
That little scar! Doubt whispered of this one,
Boy as I was, she had not lived a nun.
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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Asylum
My tears are blue,
My eyes, Purple, green and black-
Yours, I do not know the color of-
I may have met you before in some dark alley-
Your eyes are shut as you sleep- You, I do not know.
All eyes are upon me now- Orange, blue and yellow-
The sky is green and clouds are maudlin-
Blood falls from eyes of sorcerers,
Tears, blue as deep sea water- falling from my eyes,
My eyes are purple, green and black.
Trapped inside a place unknown-
Unknown to my spirit's heaven-
Locked inside this devil's paradise- I cannot fathom reality.
I weep blue tears, combining with the blood
Pouring from the ceiling so dank and dark-
Turning purple and magenta, in hue-
Your lips are red- red as rage,
My hair is dark and dark as is Satan's advocate's
Please somebody rescue me!
My tears are blue, my eyes,
Purple, green and black- the color of yours
Still remains a mystery- When shall you awaken?
Only in good time, my friend, only in good time-
The face of the clock on the wall is orange - Its hands lost in space-
I am lost and beside myself- while you sleep-
We are locked inside of an asylum- I heard-
You are sleeping, still as the locked door before us-
I wonder, are you dreaming or are your dreams turning to nightmares-?
My ears are ringing, I am blue- they just told me through the keyhole that
I am locked inside the world of my delusions?
Through your eyes I could read your thoughts but
Your eyes are closed as you sleep- and my eyes, are closed to the world.
Colors and more colors before me, my tears are blue,
I am blue-please release me from my pain.
I know I have been told in time I will be but the clock upon the wall
Has no feelings-just decorating this chamber of hell with
Its bright orange face as my blue tears fall
Onto the urine stained floors of this confinement-
My soul dissolves into nothingness, while blood drips from the ceiling-and
I wonder- do they make keys that unlock minds from the cells of their delusions?
Somebody just painted my world black and I am doomed to be trapped here
Forever…
poem by Claudia Krizay
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The Bloke Who Is Wearing Dark Glasses
The bloke who is wearing dark glasses his eyes from me hidden away
Yet the sun is not even shining it is quite an overcast day
In my direction he keeps staring and that sort of does bother me
Which to say the least feels quite perturbing since his hidden eyes I cannot see
To me he is a complete stranger one that I have not seen before
In my direction he keeps staring as he stands by the Super-store door
If I could see his eyes I'd feel happier I look on a face without eyes
On an overcast day his dark glasses the windows to his soul disguise
I feel uncomfortable in the presence of people wearing dark glasses why this should be I do wonder why
But their right for to wear the dark eyes shades one of them could never deny
But our eyes can tell us more about us than words of us ever can say
They can make you look kind and compassionate or cold hearted in a cold way
An unsmiling face wearing dark glasses from across the street stare at me
I do feel as one in discomfort when a face with hidden eyes I do see.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Blessed Souls
Baby started winking his eyes, as raindropp fell on his face;
And began to scream with tears, as there's none with grace;
Is there any who can hear child's yell for that blissful comfort?
There was not a soul to cloth him with warm and comfort.
Left alone on deserted street, drenched in rain entire night;
Shuddering like a vein, in the stony boulevard the frostiest night;
Is there any who can hear child's yell for that blissful comfort?
There was not a soul to cloth him with warm and comfort.
Warm morning rays caressed the child's tender cheeks,
Child started chuckling, twinkling face packed with grace,
A graceful arm stretched with heavenly warm and peace,
Child's eyes sparkled with twinkling rays of hope and peace.
Taken through unknown trails, reached an unfamiliar place,
Left on a hoary cradle, baby went on a tiny doze with peace,
With a little sneer, perfect heavenly peace radiated in face,
Blessed be the soul which showered child that much grace.
The Quest
I am looking for Love. Has he passed this way,
With eyes as blue as the skies of May,
And a face as fair as the summer dawn?--
You answer back, but I wander on,--
For you say: 'Oh, yes; but his eyes were gray,
And his face as dim as a rainy day.'
Good friends, I query, I search for Love;
His eyes are as blue as the skies above,
And his smile as bright as the midst of May
When the truce-bird pipes: Has he passed this way?
And one says: 'Ay; but his face, alack!
Frowned as he passed, and his eyes were black.'
O who will tell me of Love? I cry!
His eyes are as blue as the mid-May sky,
And his face as bright as the morning sun;
And you answer and mock me, every one,
That his eyes were dark, and his face was wan,
And he passed you frowning and wandered on.
But stout of heart will I onward fare,
Knowing _my_ Love is beyond--somewhere,--
The Love I seek, with the eyes of blue,
And the bright, sweet smile unknown of you;
And on from the hour his trail is found
I shall sing sonnets the whole year round.
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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Daggers In The Eyes
Some people
I saw
Some daggers in their eyes
A constant gaze
The gaze about to kill me
Or provoke me
To an extent
That I do something
To turn the daggers away
Aimed at me
The whole bunch of people
And their common intent
Having daggers in their eyes
Unleashed
And in control of a spirit
A calm effect was needed
And after a night
The spirit had gone
Like a virus
And slowly
Softness retuning to the eyes
Of those people
Some evil averted
Or magic of the village
In a reality that was
Though not palpable
But for the spirit
Harsh
And my experiment with magic realism
So the realism was
Subjected to magic
With a long line
And a time span
But I knew what it was
Instead
The daggers were pulled down
Softness returning
Experimenting with magic realism
And some demons of love
Some vital interests
And the dark side of the feminine
poem by Sadiqullah Khan
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Black Promises
Everythings moving backwards
Its been that way for so long
When all my cries like butterflies
Drift slowly away
I cant relate to no one
Sifting through all my so called friends
Aint what I like to do
But give or take my wreckage past
Dies slowly away
And now the battles begun
(chorus)
Black promises, black promises
Face down in a hole, Im sinkin below
Till I face myself
Im letting go, so on with the show
Till I face myself
Nevermind all the pity
I rattle on all the snakes I knew
I chewed the bone, got criticized
And hid all the pain
Beneath it all I still face the same face
(chorus)(chorus)
song performed by by Motley Crue
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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He Wore Dark Sun glasses
The sun it was not shining and dark gray were the skies
Yet he wore dark sun glasses for to conceal his eyes
From the gaze of other people what was he trying to hide
Since to the mirror of his soul daylight he had denied.
Or maybe his eyes are sensitive to light so dark glasses at all times he must wear
Since seeing one wearing dark glasses on a cloudy morning is quite rare
In sunny weather many wear dark glasses to save their eyes from the sun's glare
On bright and warm Summer days of the sun one must beware.
This morning in the wind and rain it did seem strange to me
A young man wearing dark sun glasses out walking I did see
On such an overcast day sunglasses did seem out of place
If you cannot see a person's eyes you cannot memorize their face.
He may have eyes sensitive to light and have to wear dark glasses every day
But when I said hello to him he had nothing to say
If you cannot see a person's eyes to you that person a stranger remain
And I would not recognize his face were I to see him again.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Yellow School Bus
The yellow school bus with the black wheels took sick children to school each day.
The yellow school bus with the black wheels was driven whether or not the sky was gray.
The yellow school bus with the black wheels went pass three streets and up a hill.
The yellow school bus with the black wheels was driven whether sunny or chilled.
The yellow school bus with the black wheels always brought a smile to little kids face.
The yellow school bus with the black wheels was filled with love and filled with grace.
The yellow school bus with the black wheels kept breathing until that final breath.
The yellow school bus with the black wheels was painted red with blood and death.
The yellow school bus with the black wheels and the little sick children were all of friends.
But the now dead children will never take a ride in the yellow school bus again.
poem by RaShawn Ince
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Gothic Angel
Beautiful raven black hair with red streaks
Compliments her pale white heart shaped face
Encases the jeweled blue eyes
Her long Tripp pants rattle as she walks away
The black and red striped top hugs her upper body
Black platform boots make heavy footfalls, fingerless gloves warm her
One day she hopes to get her fluffy black wings
And what she wants the most: her black halo
Then and only then will she truly be a gothic angel
poem by Justina Nicole Haner
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A Black Hole of Dark Empty Nothingness
My world is a black hole of dark empty nothingness,
It rains blood all of the time,
I can't see most of the time,
I don't even know why I'm alive,
I should have died,
So, I cried.
The sun never shines,
It's dark all of the time,
I lay in my dark empty bed,
Staring at the nothingness,
I live in a world of darkness and despair,
My world is a black hole of dark empty nothingness.
I try to escape my fate,
But, I can't; for I am tied to my bed,
With the lies that lay in my head,
I scream but, there is no one that hears me,
Everyone fears me,
My world is a black hole of dark empty nothingness and that's all it is.
poem by Kayse Oberley
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A Raven
Dark bird
Black raven with black wings,
Black eyes as dark as midnight,
Wind flutters his wings,
Shadows turn his head,
And movement catches his stare.
He looks down upon you and watches in dismay,
No black is with in you,
No night in your eyes,
No wings to up lift you,
No shadow to attract you,
And movements pass your gaze.
A raven, A raven, A moonlight silhouette.
Marx Ernst, The Ghost In The Abstractions Of Kandinsky
an old man leaning on a black pole,
a nude plump woman of the renaissance
inside a stomach,
a man with a big fan as face
his hands mere sketches of helplessness
pointing to the culprit on both sides
a black bird flies away
like a comma of a poem
they form a stress of a family portrait.
a hand is cut. the old man has no foot.
i shifted from the eyes of marx ernst
his eyes are shadows his hair clouds
his face a misty mountain
moving on to kandinsky he finished
life with the strokes of bright colors
and he titles it Fugue, a Black Mountain
to an Unknown Voice.
my first time to see them both.
i am stricken with the beautiful colors of happiness.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Evil Walks
Black shadow hangin over your shoulder
Black mark up against your name
Your green eyes couldnt get any colder
Theres bad poison runnin through your veins
Chorus:
Evil walks behind you
Evil sleeps beside you
Evil talks arouse you
Evil walks behind you
Black widow weavin evil notions
Dark secrets bein spun in your web
Good men goin down in your ocean
They cant swim cause theyre tied to your bed
Chorus
You just cry wolf
I sometimes wonder where you park your broom
Oh black widow
Cmon weave your web
Down in your ocean
You got em tied to your bed
With your dark, dark secrets
And your green, green eyes
You black widow
Chorus
Evil walks so bad
song performed by by AC-DC
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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At the Stage Door
Kicking my heels in the street,
Here at the edge of the pavement I wait for you, sweet,
Here in the crowd, the blent noises, blurred lights, of the street.
Under the archway sheer,
Sudden and black as a hole in the placarded wall,
Faces flicker and veer,
Wavering out of the darkness into the light,
Wavering back into night;
Under the archway, suddenly seen, the curls
And thin, bright faces of girls,
Roving eyes, and smiling lips, and the glance
Seeking, finding perchance,
Here at the edge of the pavement, there by the wall,
One face, out of them all.
Steadily, face after face,
Cheeks with the blush of the paint yet lingering, eyes
Still with their circle of black ...
But hers, but hers?
Rose-leaf cheeks, and flower-soft lips, and the grace
Of the vanishing Spring come back,
And a child's heart blithe in the sudden and sweet surprise,
Subtly expectant, that stirs
In the smile of her heart to my heart, of her eyes to my eyes
poem by Arthur Symons
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Grammar of beauty
The stress long, jet black, tightly plaited,
The eyes, fish like, black, brows blackened,
The face, moon shaped, yellow, with red lips,
And the bosom massive were once of beauty.
Jewels and silk in profuse adorned every part.
Short cut, dishevelled, unoiled is the hair,
Eyes and lips are kept in subdue with out paints,
The face of any shape, stripped of blush,
And the toned body are now taken for beauty.
Coarse garments without jewels adorn.
With the yellow skin, also came in dusky skin.
Plumpness went out and thinness came in.
Why is this somersault in beauty grammar?
Fashion is invented by the upper one and
Is caught by others to identify with the upper
02.10.2000, Vijayavada
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Dark Bodies (demo)
Dark bodies floating in darkness
No sign of light ever given
Imprisoned in a world without a memory
Unconscious, or am I conscious?
Cut from the heart I am part of
Sometimes it feels as though I'm frozen in heaven
And I saw my own face in the black lonely space
Like a spark frozen grey
Floating away [x2]
In dreams I see myself flying
Closer to the sun and I'm climbing
Tried to touch the sun
But the brightness burned my eyes
Unconscious, or am I conscious?
Fell from the sky like a star
Sometimes it feels as though I'm frozen in heaven
And I saw my own face in the black lonely space
Like a spark frozen grey
Floating away
And I saw my own face in the black lonely space
Like a spark...
My mind was so dark...
My life was so dark...
My mind was so dark...
My life was so dark...
Everything was dark
Unconscious, or am I conscious?
Fell from the sky like a star
Sometimes I feel as though I'm frozen in Heaven
And I saw my own face in the black lonely space
Like a spark frozen grey
Floating away [x2]
And I saw my own face like a spark...floating away
song performed by by Fear Factory
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Single Black Rose
A single Black Rose to turn the tide
A single Black Rose to make one die
A single Black Rose to ensnare the soul
A single Black Rose to widen that hole
A single Black Rose to melt the heart
A single Black Rose to force a start
A single Black Rose to entwine the bodies
A single Black Rose to dictate the deaths of these
A single Black Rose to lie upon her breast
A single Black Rose to stop the tears from soaking his vest
A single Black Rose to mourn this memory
A single Black Rose to become a plot in this cemetery
A single Black Rose to take a life
A single Black Rose to end his strife.
(8/21/2007)
poem by Michael Koelliker
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