En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Wallflower

A cigarette in the room
a veil of smoke
dislimning a short smile
for the red stars
and blue bulbs

The wallpaper caught
the shadows suspended
in the lattices of time
and made a room
for everyone

Before the wallflower
bloomed and divulged
its redolent presence
there was an oscillating hand
who grazed its petals
and bled on its thorns

But when it had gone
to dissolve with myriad shapes
and shadows of the past
the flower withered
like a bottomless hourglass

The fragrance won't come off
even in evisceration,
even in abolition,
writhing brown and crisp
like a heart disembogued
vying for its old blood

But no one pried
underneath a wallflower
so he waited for the old hands
who held him once

poem by Norman Santos
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Wallflower

Wallflower, wallflower
Wont you dance with me?
Im sad and lonely too.
Wallflower, wallflower
Wont you dance with me?
Im fallin in love with you.
Just like you Im wondrin what Im doin here.
Just like you Im wondrin whats goin on.
Wallflower, wallflower
Wont you dance with me?
The night will soon be gone.
I have seen you standing in the smoky haze
And I know that youre gonna be mine one of these days,
Mine alone.
Wallflower, wallflower
Take a chance on me.
Please let me ride you home.

song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wallflower

I remember when I was young,
the wallflower I used to be.
I would sit and watch
others gaze into each other’s eyes,
seeing the passion burning there.
All the time I was thinking,
will this ever happen to me?

Many times, I tried to excerpt myself,
and for my effort
received questioning stares.
Who is this weirdo?
Where did he come from?
It was a frustrating time, for this wallflower,
who on the shelf would remain.

I had no chat up lines,
only a pen and pad,
everyone who looked at me,
must have thought that I was mad.
I’d go to a party on the odd occasion I was invited,
sit in the corner on my own.
No one would talk to the odd man out.

Therefore, I would leave,
just the way I had come,
no one on my arm,
for that lonely trek home.
All the time I wondered,
is this the way my life is going to be.
A wallflower on a lonely shelf.

Shyness is an awful thing,
and it is very lonely.
For friends seem so very few.
I found out much later.
That I just had to let myself go.
Much to my surprise in doing it.
I was no longer a wallflower on a lonely shelf.

poem by David Harris
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Wall Engulfed By Shy Flowers

There is a rendezvous with flamboyance -
a stillness gilded by the peace of detachment
as tacit as the uncurling of moonflowers
when the night sprawls on her divan
and raises her goblet to the distant stars -
and he alone, in his howling dungeons, can
usurp the esoteric grandiosity in malcontent

Everything is intimate and close
in the sterile skin of your vulnerability -
the drifting autumn wind, the lifted eyelids,
the dancing lips, the glaring waltzing feet
But in your soliloquy - unraveling threads
that strangulates your recuperating breaths,
your swallowed words raving in the dark
fanning the embers of your glassy heart
the spurious tides of the oceans crash
into a lull amidst your redundant tremors
and everything sink into the unfathomable

There is an agog pleasure basking in
the immensity of monastic pendulums, whilst
the world gyrated in blurs and drifting lights
where the perfume of bliss passes above
the stagnant wind sculling our little breaths
the montage reels in the infinitesimal gilts
elsewhere held from the malingerers

There is an effulgent hymn immersed deep
in the cacophony of the world's manifold rhythms
like cathedral bells trembling from the hollows
that echoed through the gold insularity,
like a siren scintillating in the furnace of the sea
a charade, a riddle, born by loquacious maladies

When the pastels are pillaged to a halt,
when the only judge is the frost and fog,
when solace is the thief of the endless night,
he indulges into a dance and a song -
A fire burns underneath his sole and
a lilt titillates from his lifted susurrations
and reticence was eroding with the embers
whilst loneliness burns like red roses
and the web of bridges suspended above

The clockwork salutes fell unbeknownst
into a bottomless ocean of rigmaroles unto
the fusillade of your silence - a salient armada,
a sentry amidst the collapsing of confusion,
a terse bridge that burns with inner caliginosity,
a bulwark adamant wall that makes no echoes,
a flower awakening in the oppression of sleep;
Because your bland insinuation is more colossal
than the petulant beauty of many garden larcenies

The reticence you wore like paper petals are frail
vanguards that hones your puissant indifference -
Play along the farce, come soundless like a thief,
lean on your citadels, dance with the shadows
riveted on your walls and cringe only to intensify
the grandiosity of your gray shabby heavens;
Wallflower, sing. Wallflower, dance,
Wallflower, cringe. Wallflower writhe.

poem by Norman Santos
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Man Standing...

the man standing
in the shadows,
held the earth
in his hands...
until time and storm
finally had their way.

the man standing
in the shadows,
plowed and planted,
season after season,
till winter grey
closed the last door.

the man standing
in the shadows,
built a house
and a bridge...
and swept room and porch
till it was finished.

the man standing
in the shadows,
picked up nests of straw,
and opened tiny cages,
blowing light from cupped hands
till the darkness swallowed.

the man standing
in he shadows,
played a wooden flute,
caught stardust in each note...
till the great stillness came,
and the wind stopped blowing...

the man standing
in the shadows,
still smells like you!

poem by Eric Cockrell
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In the Shadows of Darkness

In the dark bleak nights.
And the roaming shadows.
When the voices speak to me.
I no it can all bring me to my knees.
It could all be the end of me.
If it wanted to be.
I shall fight another night and day.

I see the shadows
A figure of a man.
Are these real
Or is it just in my head.

In the crisp cold of the night.
In a room 101
Im stuck in my room 101.

Shadows loom at night
Like a witch flying on a broom.
Waking me with a sudden fright.
Not in the mornig light.

In my darkest hour
They will huant me.
They can make me suffer.

They want the end of me.
tuff shit they aint getting it.

In the dakness of shadows.
My fears are relived.
I can beat this.
I must beat it.

poem by Amy Louise Kerswell
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Marriage

Marriage for Esme began as a wide open room
with windows that let in the sunshine
and curtains so light and airy
they floated on the breeze.

Her husband's blue eyes would sparkle
with just a hint of mischief
and fun that they intrigued her,
made him special.

Then in the second year on her birthday
it seemed the room had grown dusty,
the curtains seemed dull,
the windows small.

And in the third year, without a doubt
the sun had gone down on her
and the room held a chill
like her aching heart.

By the fifth year, she'd aged,
her eyes had shadows, her skin had paled
and the room seemed small
with no windows at all.

She had shriveled, was withdrawn,
she'd sit in the corner of the room humming,
rocking back and forth, back and forth,
back and forth........

poem by Ruth Walters
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Blue Room, The

We'll have a blue room
A new room for two room
Where ev'ry day's a holiday
Because you're married to me.
Not like a ballroom
A small room, A hall room
Where I can smoke my pipe away
With your wee head upon my knee.
We will thrive on, keep alive on
Just nothing but kisses
With Mister and Missus
On little blue chairs.
You sew your trousseau
And Robinson Crusoe
Is not so far from worldly cares
As our blue room far away upstairs

song performed by by Ella Fitzgerald
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Guardian and BloodRose

BloodRose,
Rose of my love,
My love for Dark moon,
Dark as my heart,
Black as my soul,
And gave me my rose.

The rose of blood,
With petals soft and black,
Never as a rose so beautiful,
Grown not in light,
But under a dark moon lit sky.

Guardian,
Yes a guardian of BloodRose,
With teeth long and sharp,
Claws hard as diamonds,
Scales as dark as night.

My dear sweet guardian,
Guardian black as my heart,
Fire in your eyes,
Shadows in your soul,
A dragon of the dark moon.

A single rose,
With petals so fare,
As dark as my heart,
I now hold in my hand,
The rose of blood.

You are my darkness,
Fear of this love,
This love for you,
Love for darkness,
The cold shadows in my heart
That makes me yearn for you.

Now as you lay dying,
I hold a single rose,
The rose you gave me,
And as I hold it tight,
The thorns slice my hand,
Covered with blood,
My blood.

I have one fear,
The fear of death,
Symbol of my lost love,
Rose as dark as me,
Laying in a pool of blood,
Blood from me.

As I lay dying,
I remember my name,
BloodRose,
I am the rose of blood,
And I died of my own creation.

A creation of perfect beauty,
Petals dark black,
Thorns like small daggers,
Grown from my love,
My love for a dragon,
A dragon as dark as my heart.

Even in my death,
I think of you,
And the rose you gave me,
The rose that killed me,
The Rose of Blood.

poem by Nicolette Gonzalez
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Bitter Suite

(fish / marillion)
A) brief encounter
A spider wanders aimlessly within the warmth of a shadow
Not the regal creature of border caves
But the poor, misguided, directionless familiar of some obscure scottish poet
The mist crawls from the canal
Like some primordial phantom of romance
To curl, under a cascade of neon pollen
While I sit tied to the phone like an expectant father
Your carnation will rot in a vase
B) lost weekend
A train sleeps in a siding
The driver guzzles another can of lager, lager
To wash away the memories of a friday night down at the club
She was a wallflower at sixteen, shell be a wallflower at thirty four
Her mother called her beautiful
Her daddy said, a whore
C) blue angel
The sky was Bible black in lyon, when I met the magdalene
She was paralyzed in a streetlight
She refused to give her name
And a ring of violet bruises
They were pinned upon her arm
Two hundred francs for sanctuary and she led me by the hand
To a room of dancing shadows where all the heartache disappears
And from glowing tongues of candles I heard her whisper in my ear
jentend ton coeur, jentend ton coeur
I can hear your heart, I can hear your heart, I can hear your heart
Hear your heart
I hear your heart
D) misplaced rendezvous
Its getting late, for scribbling and scratching on the paper
Somethings gonna give under this pressure, and the cracks are already beginning to show
Its too late
The weekend career girl never boarded the plane
They said this could never happen again
Oh, so wrong, so wrong
This time it seems to be another misplaced rendezvous
This time, its looking like another misplaced rendezvous
With you
The parallel of you, you
E) windswept thumb
On the outskirts of nowhere
On the ringroad to somewhere
On the verge of indecision
Ill always take the roundabout way
Waiting on the rain
For I was born with a habit, from a sign
The habit of a windswept thumb, and the sign of the rain
Rain on me, rain
Its started raining

song performed by by Marillion
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Heart Of The Flower

Now at the station, the train to another land
Lands of never seen light, light hidden in infinite night
Night in its biggest might, might of the strongest power
And there the smoke of the train to the heart of the flower
I take the first train to the heart of the flower
I take the first train to the heart of the flower
And there the smoke of the train to the heart of the flower
And there the smoke of the train to the heart of the flower
The waiting room of kingdom come, I look back upon my life
Life of loss but now the end
End of rat race overdrive
Overdrive to foreign lands
Lands of contemptous hours
And there the smoke of the train to the heart of the flower
Now on the train
This is the end of my day
I feel my spirits escape like a musical clock thats dying away
I turn once again and wave my hand and say goodbye
I never thought its so easy
I never thought its so easy
I take the first train to the heart of the flower
I take the first train to the heart of the flower
And there the smoke of the train to the heart of the flower
And there the smoke of the train to the heart of the flower
The heart of the flower
The heart of the flower
The heart of the flower
Diamond/1990

song performed by by Alphaville
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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She is Like A Flower.......

She is like a flower,
a flower that gives me a smile
a smile that enlightens my inner soul.
she is the one with whom i can share my sorrows and joys
Her company is like sweet fragrance of a flower,
a fragrance that freshens me.
she is the one whose love is undesirable for me.
Her each care about me is like a each petal of a flower
a care that i love the most.
she is the one who motivate me in every sphere of life.
her presence is like a color of flower,
a presence that brightens me.
she is the one who is everything for me
She is like a flower...........

poem by Suniya Garg
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Peering Through The Lattices

The day broke sprouting spidery lattices
And before it galloped the green verdure
It caught everything suspended, unraveling
The yarns of the eroding delirium of dreams
And like a hungry hunter, it devoured the prey
Before eyelids lifted to shower in the sun
These windows shunned by obdurate curtains

Somewhere, a moth earned a brand new wing
And struggled out of its chrysalis heralding
A brand new hope and a youthful hunger
So it shook its virulent dusts and sapped
The mildew suspended in the lattices of time
But before it glides the porcelain currents
It was caught suspended, wings perishing

I peered through the lattices, severed my eyes
I touched the marring embers of the sunset
A lighthouse to the directionless ocean
To find your reflection there, docked on a shore
Spraying bubbles to the silenced stance of the stones
While I swam away where the sun's graze
Can never reach, I swam where I will fade
And reset my lifelessness in a dancing tomb
But before hand, all is lost to the foreseeing heart

I fell through the lattices, where my voice
Beckoned to the wintery clouds
And juggled into a rollercoaster ride
Playing riddles and solving puzzles
Confounding the answers that hurled itself
From the darkness into the light
But the web ensnared the commutation

I fell through the lattices, where voices resounded
Dangling on a gibbet without a prayer
And falling like echoes on a well
It writhes unknowingly from pointing fingers
And gnarling bruised toes, it writhes
When it came riddling with charming words
But empty meaning and resolutions
The end of it marauded the room
Before the doors were closed

Somewhere, the sunset leaned against a pillar
Combing and braiding its golden mane
Fecundating the resurgence of the sea
Endeavoring to grab on the taut threads
That the enigma of the unknown wove.

poem by Norman Santos
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Your Blue Room

Its time to go again
To your blue room
Got some questions to ask of you
In your blue room
The air is clean
Your skin is clear
Ive had enough fun hanging round here
Its a different kind of conversation
Your blue room
Saw me coming
In outside
Saw me coming
Somewhere I can hide
And time is a string of pearls...your blue room
(Im a swinger)
See the future just hanging there...your blue room
A new frame, a new perspective
Looking down on my objectives
Your instructions whatever their directions
Your blue room
Saw me coming
East by the moon
Saw me coming
Can you feel
(its allright)
Your blue room
One day Ill be back...your blue room
Yeah, I hope I remember where its at...your blue room
We see me slide
Wont you give me a home
So much for change
Zooming in
Zooming out
Nothing I cant do without
A lens to see it all up close
Magnifying what no one knows
Never in company
Never alone
No car alarm
No cellular phone

song performed by by U2
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Waiting For You (Sestina)

The tangled wood reminds me of your hair -
dark like the night and falling in whispers.
Kneeling underneath the sheltering pines,
I sip silence and stroke the memories.
You have long been gone, and I miss your hands,
slipping through the long sleeves of languid love.

Time is a leaf on the branch of our love,
curled in the corners of your chestnut hair
and falling like sand through hourglass hands.
Wind strokes my back and quietly whispers.
Stars float down a dark sky of memories,
their bright pulse like beacons above the pines.

Thus hangs the moon, suspended among pines,
promising brighter days showered with love;
but for now, I live in the memories.
I braid a blue blossom into my hair,
its fragrance wafting like weary whispers,
spider-spun silk in the palm of my hands.

I remember how you captured my hands,
held them within the shadow of the pines,
and kissed them soft as butterfly whispers.
It was then that I knew I was in love,
when you gently stroked the length of my hair,
now curled within the moonlight memories.

Moonlight makes magic of the memories,
within the palms of her shimmering hands,
and she sprinkles starlight throughout my hair.
Initials are carved in one of the pines
within a whimsical heart made with love
and sanctified with undying whispers.

The past unfolds in wandering whispers,
ushered through the gate of my memories.
I write a letter of undying love,
hold it like seeds in the palm of my hands,
and plant it with a kiss beneath the pines
as the wind looses a wisp of my hair.

The pale wings of my love move like whispers,
tangling in your hair like memories
captured within your hands beneath the pines.

poem by Linda Marie Van Tassell
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The wedding of Venus

The wedding of Venus

This morning when I passed by
Rare flower caught my eyes
Who with a welcoming smile
In the garden among the others-
grasses, trees, and the other flowers
I stayed for a moment
Enjoying her fragrance
And into my heart carry it for a while,
But someone arrived
Took away the wonderful time
In his hands the flower whose’
Beauty is beyond to compare.
He took the flower
And to the altar he offered her
He made a vow- a promise
forever he will take care of her
forever they will stay together.

poem by Jordan Legaspi
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Shallow Clouds

The eyes skylarked
through the moderate climate,
the smoke vertiginously suspended
in the kneeling atmosphere

There is a redolent breeze
known to the famished
and thirsty for grandiosity -
A stropped poignancy

To the puny and fragile
the dust mote's dance is no different
from the foreboding wolves
howling for the sky's thunders

I wonder why some things
can never be fortified
by the mangles of iron and fire -
faint and naked, always defeated?

If the mountain range would lay
and the clouds would descend
to unveil the broad horizon
will I finally find your grace?

Are the promises buried
in squalid colors veritable?
Is your variety existent
or but a taste of hope?

My savor is waned, senses
are disembogued and crashed:
hope once,
and suffer for life

In the smoke of the cigarette
and the shabby calm
docked upon its shallow clouds
the dusk would finally succumb.

poem by Norman Santos
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Until

If I caught the world in a bottle
and everything was still beneath the moon
Without your love would it shine for me?
If I was smart as Aristotle
and understood the rings around the moon
what would it all matter if you loved me?
In your arms the where the world is impossibly still
With a million dreams to fulfill
And a matter of moments until the dancing ends
Here in your arms, when everything seems to be clear
Not a solit'ry thing would I fear
Except when this moment
comes near the dancings' end
If I caught the world in an hourglass
that loved the moon
so we could ride until the stars grew dim
Until
One day, you'll meet a stranger
and all the noise is silenced in the room
You'll feel that you're close to some mystery
In the moonlight, when everything shadows you
You feel as if you've known her all your life
The worlds' oldest lesson in history
Here in your arms, where the world is impossibly still
With a million dreams to fulfill
And a matter of moments until the dancing ends
Here in your arms, everything seems to be clear
Not a solit'ry thing do I fear
Except when this moment comes near the dancings' end
If I caught the world in an hourglass
and up the moon we would ride
until the stars grew dim
Until the time that time stands still
Until

song performed by by Sting
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shadow Dance

The shadows danced with the hazy smoke
Draped in the malodorous tobacco scent
Rippling the pallid beckon of the summer noon

The shadows danced and lightly rouse
Insurmountable motions of the colossus sea
And lingered with the auspicious truancy

The shadows danced with the svelte strokes
In the maladroit light-flushed and fueled-gush
Whining seep of a violent breath of life

The shadows danced with phantom swords
Scintillating sparks to flicker within the darkness
Slumbering in the corners of somnolent eyes

The shadows danced in the reveling noise
Where the sun never quells the thirsty rose
And never pours for the barren host

The shadows danced and tilted inertia
To greedily gather the myriad of porcelain jars
Brimming with dusts and scripts and stars

The shadows danced and I was enthused
To sway the steely legs gnarled in the silence
Of calculating the shadows rhythmic palpitations

poem by Norman Santos
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9 Miles On A Dirty Futon

I spent nine miles with her.
in a cheap apartment.
Boxed wine and cheeses with exotic sounding names.
Eaten on a blanket on the floor as we had no table.
we had no couch,
we had no television.
But we had music.

At night we would lay on a futon matress
that layed on the floor.
The streetlight outside the bedroom window playing shadows across sections of her.
First her eyes were lit, the rest of her awash in shadows,
then,
when she turned,
her mouth was visible,
but her eyes were shadowed.
A breast, a thigh, her hair all illuminated
then darkened
according to her movments.

Sometimes she would lie on her back and light a cigarette.
Her whole face would light with the flash of the lighter,
like hand held lightining,
then darken again.
We would talk for hours on that futon,
I don't remember what was said...
I remember her in pieces of light and shadow.

When she smoked the light would turn the smoke in to a slow
languid serpent
escaping from her body through her mouth and nose.
I have never seen anyone smoke like that before or since.
Her face half lit by the streetlight.

She would speak and the words would drift out of her
entwined with the smoke.
She smoked like Garbo.
slow and seductive.

9 years with her and all my memories are of shadows, soft sodium streetlights, and orange cigarette glow.

9 years with her and all I remember are the lights and shadows
across her body.
On that futon matress
on the floor.

poem by Brevet Wilson
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Action

I gotta regret right now
I'm feeling this
The air is so cold and null
I'm feeling this
Let me go in her room
I'm feeling this
I love all the things you do
I'm feeling this
Show me the way to bed
I'm feeling this
Show me the way you move
I'm feeling this
Now she just shows her blur
I'm feeling this
I love all the things you do
I'm feeling this
Fate fell short this time
Your smile fades in the summer
Place your hand in mine
I'll leave when i wanna
Were do we go from here
Turn all the light's down now
Smiling from ear to ear
I'm feeling this
My breathing is got to loud
I'm feeling this
Show me the bedroom floor
I'm feeling this
Show me the bathroom mirror
I'm feeling this
Were taking this way too slow
I'm feeling this
Take me away from here
I'm feeling this
Fate fell short this time
Your smile fades in the summer
Place your hand in mine
I'll leave when i wanna
Fate fell short this time
Your smile fades in the summer
Place your hand in mine
I'll leave when i wanna
This place is never the same again
After you came and went
How can you say you meant anything
Different to anyone standing alone on the street
With a cigarette on the first night we met
Look to the past and remember a smile
And mabye tonight i can breathe for a while
I'm not in the seat i think i'm falling a sleep
But then all that it means is i'll always be dreaming of you
Fate fell short this time
Your smile fades in the summer
Place your hand in mine
I'll leave when i wanna

song performed by by Blink 182
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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