Technicolored Lily
Superfluous enchantment
Sealed between my own lips
Purges the vile nicotine
With no intention to wean
And throw a part of me
Because I have learned
Of a splendor farfetched
From your bigoted context
And I have unearthed
From other yearning denizens
That I, too, possess jewels
In the rarest forms
Brighter than any luminaries
And that my endeavors
Don't deserve to be so tragic,
Thus, persuading infinity
In a sense far from drudgery
As I muse upon a lone lily
That creeps upon my spine
Whenever I resign my eyes
Into the sleeping fiend
That sprawls leisurely
On my corrupted slumber
Black lily of sapid destruction,
I apologize for your withering
For I have brought upon this ruin
But in the harangue of consciousness
You are a white lily to me
Bedazzling of niceties to the cusp
Most would find you burn
In pertinacious red
And paint your vision
In the mediocre sense
Of beauty and of love
For we are all judged
In their jagged vision
And our own overweening coercion
Now, I seek for recuperation
And I would shun you
Your beautiful picture
That summons treacherous feelings
In a clear picturesque
Of a demise cloyed
In my dreadful smile
I will picture you, inexorably,
In the far off distance—
Inches between our elbows
As you jot down your mind
In lazy pacing clouds
Of nonsensical, one-sided
Windows of discussions
As you burst or bloom
In their stares or in a mirror
Until once again,
I could spew another promise
Until once again,
I could be a sanguine friend
Until once again,
You won't be the echo of everything.
poem by Norman Santos
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Related quotes
Lily Adair
On the beryl-rimmed rebecs of Ruby,
Brought fresh from the hyaline streams,
She played, on the banks of the Yuba,
Such songs as she heard in her dreams.
Like the heavens, when the stars from their cyries
Look down through the ebon night air,
Were the groves by the Ouphantic Fairies
Lit up for my Lily Adair—
For my child-like Lily Adair—
For my heaven-born Lily Adair—
For my beautiful, dutiful Lily Adair.
Like two rose-leaves in sunshine when blowing,
Just curled softly, gently apart,
Were her lips by her passion, while growing
In perfume on the stalk of her heart.
As mild as the sweet influences
Of the Pleiades 'pregning the air—
More mild than the throned Excellencies
Up in heaven, was my Lily Adair—
Was my Christ-like Lily Adair—
Was my lamb-like Lily Adair—
Was my beautiful, dutiful Lily Adair.
At the birth of this fair virgin Vestal,
She was taken for Venus' child;
And her voice, though like diamond in crystal,
Was not more melodious than mild.
Like the moon in her soft silver splendor,
She was shrined in her own, past compare,
For no Angel in heaven was more tender
Than my beautiful Lily Adair—
Than my dove-like Lily Adair—
Than my saint-like Lily Adair—
Than my beautiful, dutiful Lily Adair.
Thus she stood on the arabesque borders
Of the beautiful blossoms that blew
On the banks of the crystalline waters,
Every morn, in the diaphane dew.
The flowers, they were radiant with glory,
And shed such perfume on the air,
That my soul, now to want them, feels sorry,
And bleeds for my Lily Adair—
For my much-loved Lily Adair—
For my long-lost Lily Adair—
For my beautiful, dutiful Lily Adair.
poem by Thomas Holley Chivers (1853)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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A Flower To Auroville Mother-75
Spider lily(Beach spider lily
Hymenocallis littoralis)
Calm and lovely, she's Spider Lily
White and peace she's Spider Lily
Pristine and pure she's Spider Lily
Silent and certain she's Spider Lily
There, up above the fanning leaves
Asunder below staminal cup she's
Overflowing her nectarian streams
Mind-blowing her aura measureless
Sacred tepals lofty with beauty
Stamens atop splurging as deputy
There goes heaven's sweet ditty
Miss not a white goddess pretty
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Lily-white Child
lily white child
hallow to thy fair
the twinklin bliss of thy eye
and beatific expression of thy face
to thy sublime innocent
in d spectrum of thy beauty
Ooh lily-white child
thy aesthetic opulency
like nebula of stars
in the terrain of rainbow
lily white child
smile like of heaven wide
sapphire teeth of angel
hallow to thy halo pure
lily white child
pure like distilled water.
poem by Samuel Francis Leumas
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A Flower To Auroville Mother-77
Rain Lily Rose(Zephyranthes rosea)
Primrose Rain Lily(Zephyranthes primulina)
Yellow Rain Lily(Zephyranthes citrina)
Fairy Lily(pink rain lily, Zephyranthes carinata)
Fairy Lily(white rain lily, Zephyranthes candida)
Ah, o'dear I found you at Kalakad
Brought and planted in my yard
Knowing not then much of matter
About you and your family fatter
And when you grew prettily wide
Rain God in love one day pattered
Awesome to see you basked in joy
Blossoming making me too enjoy
You were rose with sister yellow
White or pink or primrose yellow-
Somewhere yonder all far farther
Only you rose and yellow together
Short and flared yellow upward
Potted or fielded grassy leaved
Small and green throated lily rose
To green tube funneled rosy tepals
O'rain lilies, so yellow and rose
Bloom, bloom often by rainy showers
Bordered or potted or clumped lot
Gathered in gentle bliss in my heart
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Mirror Mirror on the Wall
*couldn't find Two Souls Intertwined so here*
Mirror, mirror on the wall. Sit and watch me take my fall.
Reflect the world right back to me and mock me against it all.
Mirror, mirror on the wall. It’s not as it should seem.
The truths are lies the lies are truth and I can’t even scream.
Mirror, mirror on the wall. You lie straight to my face.
Though the picture may be clear my mind you slowly erase.
Mirror, mirror on the wall. You’re complexion is smooth and cold.
But beneath that reflecting beauty lies something worse than bold.
Walls that see my every move; that hear my every word.
Can you hear my heart beat quicken like a tiny caged bird.
Windows that show the freedom. Out there beyond my world.
What you paint is like the mirror; deceiving at every turn.
Mirror, mirror on the wall. You see what’s in my hand.
Walls that know my secrets. I think you know my plan.
Windows that show my freedom. Shall I toss her out of you?
Face that reflects with a glimmer. Is this what you choose?
Eyes that stare back at me. I do not recognize.
The walls, the mirror, the windows too are all out for my demise.
Mind that’s been corrupted. Stare upon thy face.
If I destroy this ‘home’…shall I to be erased?
Mirror, mirror on the wall. You have seen me take my fall.
Mirror, mirror on the wall. You were never there at all.
poem by Vanessa Kingsley
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My Photo Album
The photo album stores the history of my life,
Every page is the mirror of bygone days,
The reflections in the mirror brings memories alive,
The memories which beam me magically in the world of my choice.
A first few pages of my album are blank,
As a little kid I did not want to stand in front of a box with a man in black hood,
I did not want to be seen upside down in his view finder,
I was happier playing soccer somewhere else in the nearby play ground.
The b & w family portrait of me, my siblings and my parents is my prize possession,
It was a rare event when we all could gather and pose for a moment,
Now some are grown up, some have left our midst,
The glimpse of all of us together brings the emotions of close family ties.
As I turn the pages of my album,
I see happiness radiating from every picture,
May it be a smile of a family member or mine,
Or it may be the beauty of the nature smiling at me,
Every picture brings a memory flashback,
of the joys and emotions of important events in my life.
Next my eyes get glued on my personal family picture,
My wife radiating with her beautiful smile,
My kids little scared of the dark studio set,
Me grinning with smile of worth thousand words.
It is picture which remains in my heart and wallet,
It is a picture which brings joy, love and affection to me every minute.
I guess no one ever keeps the pictures of death and agony,
It is hard to see the cremation picture of departed love,
It seems as if my heart is turning into ashes,
The pain and agony of this scene is so much,
The book of album closes by itself.
I leave a rose and a lily near my album,
Rose shows our everlasting love,
The lily puts the aura of comfort and hope,
That one day her love will resurrect and meet my heart.
poem by Jay P Narain
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Lily and the Bee
I Looked upon the lilies
When the morning sun was low,
And the sun shone through a lily
With a softened honey glow.
A spot was in the lily
That moved incessantly,
And when I looked into the cup
I saw a morning bee.
“Consider the lilies!”
But, it occurs to me,
Does any one consider
The lily and the bee?
The lily stands for beauty,
Use, purity, and trust,
It does a four-fold duty,
As all good mortals must.
Its whiteness is to teach us,
Its faith to set us free,
Its beauty is to cheer us,
And its wealth is for the bee.
“Consider the lilies!”
But, it occurs to me,
Does any one consider
The lily and the bee?
poem by Henry Lawson
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The Last Duet
(With Lily Tomlin)
Lily:
You creep
Into my heart
And make my heart burn
Barry:
You sneak
Into my mind
And make my head ache
Both:
There are things I long to tell you
Lily:
You're much too blonde
Barry:
You snore
Both:
Look
It's time to face the music
Barry:
Bye bye
Lily:
Don't slam the door
And I don't want
Barry:
I don't want
Lily:
I don't want
Barry:
I don't want
Both:
No, I don't want your flowers anymore
This is the last duet
Last chance you're gonna get
No more ha harmony
For you and me
This is the final song
And when the music's through
This is the last duet
I'll ever do with you
Barry:
You're not the one that I want
Ooh ooh ooh
Tood-le-oo (Honey)
Lily:
Don't go breakin' my back
Don't call me
I'll call you
Both:
Back together
Reunited
Should feel so good
They say
So I hope there's no hard feelings
Barry:
Don't go 'way mad
Lily:
Just go 'way
Both:
'Cause
Enough
Is enough
Is enough
Is enough
Too much too little too late
Lily:
Tonight
Barry:
Tonight
Both:
With you I'm bored again
This is the last duet
Last chance you're gonna get
No more ha harmony
For you and me
This is the final song
And when the music's through
This is the last duet
I'll ever do with you
Both:
This is the last duet
Last chance you're gonna get
No more ha harmony
For you and me
This is the final song
And when the music's through
This is the last duet
I'll ever do
I'll ever do
I'll never never never never never do
With you
song performed by by Barry Manilow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Garden Of Girls
KATE is like a violet, Gertrude's like a rose,
Jane is like a gillyflower smart;
But Laura's like a lily, the purest bud that blows,
Whose white, white petals veil the golden heart.
Girls in the garden--one and two and three--
One for song and one for play and one--ah, one for me!
Gillyflowers and violets and roses fair and fine,
But only one a lily, and that one lily mine!
Bertha is a hollyhock, stately, tall, and fair,
Mabel has the daisy's dainty grace,
Edith has the gold of the sunflower on her hair,
But Laura wears the lily in her face.
Girls in the garden--five and six and seven--
Three to take, and three to give, but one--ah! one is given--
Hollyhocks and daisies, and sunflowers like the sun,
But only one a lily, and that one lily won.
poem by Edith Nesbit
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The Lily of St Leonards
’TIS sunrise over Watson,
Where I sailed out to sea,
On that wild run to London
That wrecked and ruined me.
The beauty of the morning
On bluff and point and bay,
But the Lily of St Leonards
Was fairer than the day.
O Lily of St Leonards!
And I was mad to roam—
She died with loving words for me
Three days ere I came home.
As fair as lily whiteness,
As pure as lily gold,
And bright with childlike brightness
And wise as worlds of old.
Her heart for all was beating
And all hearts were her own—
Like sunshine through the Lily
Her purity was shown.
O Lily of St Leonards!
My night is on the track,
’Tis well you never lived to see
The wreck that I came back.
A leaden sky shuts over
A sobbing leaden sea,
For the Lily of St Leonards
Is never more for me.
I seek the wharf of Outward
Where the deck no longer thrills
Where she stood with great tears starting
Like the lights on dark wet hills.
The world was all before me
The laurels on my brow—
’Twas the world-star of the rovers,
’Tis the Star of Exile now.
poem by Henry Lawson
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The Friendship Of The Frogs
this the picture of a green frog
with big rolling eyes
like a golf ball
it floats on a lily leaf
beside it a big yellow lily flower
the waters ripple
it is a happy frog of friendship
that my friends sent me an hour ago
and my friend wants it back
in a minute
to assure
that i still want her back
i am thinking like a slimy frog.
shall i send it back or not?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Love-Lily
Between the hands, between the brows,
Between the lips of Love-Lily,
A spirit is born whose birth endows
My blood with fire to burn through me;
Who breathes upon my gazing eyes,
Who laughs and murmurs in mine ear,
At whose least touch my colour flies,
And whom my life grows faint to hear.
Within the voice, within the heart,
Within the mind of Love-Lily,
A spirit is born who lifts apart
His tremulous wings and looks at me;
Who on my mouth his finger lays,
And shows, while whispering lutes confer,
That Eden of Love's watered ways
Whose winds and spirits worship her.
Brows, hands, and lips, heart, mind, and voice,
Kisses and words of Love-Lily,--
Oh! bid me with your joy rejoice
Till riotous longing rest in me!
Ah! let not hope be still distraught,
But find in her its gracious goal,
Whose speech Truth knows not from her thought
Nor Love her body from her soul.
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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Lily Licked the Toilet
Lily licked the toilet,
And then she licked the floor.
You can bet I'll never
Kiss Lily anymore!
Lily licked the toilet,
And then she licked the sink.
She's full of germs and worms,
At least that's what I think.
Lily licked the toilet,
And then she licked the tub.
It's safe to say her tongue
Could use a real good scrub!
She was the cutest pooch! (To Smooch)
Why'd she have to spoil it?
Nothing's been the same since…
Lily licked the toilet!
poem by ToddMichael St. Pierre
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Master Of Mind Can only be a Master Mind!
Seeing and hearing,
Is it eye that see?
Is it ear that hear?
Eyes are windows of Mind,
Like are ears, eyes have eyelids, ears remain open!
Seeing is not perceiving,
Light passes through the small camera,
Giving picture of world around,
Yet mind is the processor,
Process the data,
Process the colourful image,
Sometime filling with its own colour!
But it is not vision,
mind sees something itself,
Seeing through the mind without the help of eyes
Neither windows opened,
Nor light from open windows affect!
Mind is that faculty sees something within,
And day by day the vision become clear,
When mind learns it is not the seer,
It sees everything clear,
Clearly presented to the master,
And Self is the master of Mind,
When mind is pure and clear,
Without prejudice and suspense traits,
Self perceives self in its true nature,
Nothing goes bad,
processed food for thought remain good for ever!
one who sees eyes as seer,
He is ignorant,
One who sees mind as a seer,
Knows not,
One whose mind sees the seer is different,
Vision get purified, seer can see through the mind,
Scenes seen by mind with eyes closed,
when perceived by seer,
It becomes vision of life,
And that vision when becomes ambition of life,
Ambition becomes aspiration,
Aspiration transforms into mission,
Mission transmits wisdom and genius of self!
Self becomes master Of mind
Self becomes master Mind,
Master and mind becomes one,
Master Of Mind Can only be a Master Mind
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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Lily Of The West
When first I came to louisville, some pleasure there to find
A damsel there from lexington was pleasing to my mind
Her rosy cheeks, her ruby lips, like arrows pierced my breast
And the name she bore was flora, the lily of the west.
I courted lovely flora some pleasure for to find
But she turned unto another man whose sore distressed my mind
She robbed me of my liberty, deprived me of my rest
Then go, my lovely flora, the lily of the west.
Away down in yonder shady grove, a man of high degree
Conversin with my flora there, it seemed so strange to me
And the answer that she gave to him it sore did me oppress
I was betrayed by flora, the lily of the west.
I stepped up my rival, dagger in my hand
I seized him by the collar, and bodly made him stand
Seing mad by desperation I pierced him to the breast
All this for lovely flora, the lily of the west.
I had to stand my trial, I had to make my plea
They placed me in the witness box and then commenced on me
Although she swore my life away, deprived me of my rest
Still I love my faithless flora, the lily of the west.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You want a lily
You want a lily
And you plead with me
'Give me my lily back.'
I went to see
A friend last night and on her mantelshelf
I saw some lilies,
Image of myself,
And most unlike your dream of purity.
They had been small green lilies, never white
For man's delight
In their most blissful hours.
But now the flowers
Had shrivelled and instead
Shone spikes of seeds,
Burned spikes of seeds,
Burned red
As love and death and fierce futurity.
There's this much of the lily left in me.
poem by Lesbia Harford
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Sweet Lily, Spring Morn
From the moment that we had first met
I knew that you were different
You had a unique sense of taste
One that I had found to appeal to my own
My heart is yours
Forever and always
And I never go a day without you crossing my mind
Your voice,
Oh that voice,
Like the sweet sounds of a blue jay in the spring morn,
And your beauty,
Like the blossom of a lily,
And the thought of you makes me seek hope,
For a brighter forever and always,
That we shall eternally share…
poem by PenelopeCrews Pitstock
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Mockery
I met my love a-weeping,
Weeping in the night-tide pale;
Her head among the lily bloom,
Weeping by an empty tomb—
An unshut tomb.
I gently stroked her golden hair
That shone so
With the moon-glow
In the sad-sweet air.
Like playful breezes from the south
Came soft smile-dimples to her mouth;
And when again she seemed to weep
I kissed her wild-wide eyes to sleep;
While there beyond the lily bloom
I saw the watching, waiting tomb.
I left my love a-sleeping,
Sleeping in the cypress vale;
Smiling sadly in the gloom;
Sleeping in the fastened tomb—
The tight-shut tomb.
How round the tomb the moving mists
Will twirl so
When the wind blows,
That the ivy twists
And shudders round the cold grey stone:
A serpent on a crumbling throne.
While I, upon a nearby mound
Hear salt tears soaking in the ground;
But there, when’er the lilies bloom,
I hear low laughter in the tomb.
poem by Leon Gellert
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The Collective: The Queen of Lilies
Muse alone, I dare, in shards and flakes
Trying to posses its elusive waning stunts
As mistral dark succumbs the lake
Mystifying its nocturne inhabitants
So the eyes that had seen feared to take
The regal lily a queen would want
This lily, queen of all lilies
Wore the lake like her shielding mail,
Like her plume for flight, her realms of liminalities,
Preserving her sovereign of dainty tales
So it blossomed with all subtleties
Rippling with confused verdicts, hence, stale
Under the moon, I owned the lily queen
As much as it owns my forlorn nights,
The mire, and the enchanted sheen
In her pallid petals of immaculate white
Oh! What a pity had it been
To lure and fool myself with such delight!
Monarch of the lake and night, lily queen,
Trample not in my faults, you are too pristine
poem by Norman Santos
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Lily
Here is Lily
I am for Lily only
And Lily
Am dying daily
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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