We Incinerate Lights with Fragile Mirrors
Do you know what basks behind your ears?
With your supple hair of lightning tucked lightly
Do you hear the sirens' screech and fluster you with fear?
That you reduced yourself in the speculum of a melody.
Have you been in the river of you veiled ears?
Where the conversations live and die a riddle
Resonated in reflections, ebbing not to err nor stir
The somnolent glow grazing the little shafts to bristle
At the floor of the river, the bosom of the mirror
Rouses an opalescent light; a wafer of a prism
A lamp discordant from the puissant lightning roar.
Sheathed in those ears: a hero to somnambulism.
Do you know what clings on your parting lips?
That dies with the deception of your dissenting teeth
Do you verbalize with tales of wars, tragedies, or assailed ships?
That your tongue flounced and fumbled towards an empty pit
Have you sang a ballad and extemporized metallically?
Painted with maroon hues and festooned with ivies;
A crowning barb of virulent thorns, lackadaisically
Resembling the tiara of the sun's panging quandaries
And its tongue profoundly gyrating the luminous light
Of ramifications; the etudes of truths, lies, and cries
With every departing words and whimsy notes in flight.
Kissing your fatal lips: the fire of the sentries in your eyes.
Do you know what perches on your gnarled shoulders?
Arched amongst carousals and amidst the mundane clockwork
Does it hamper you with the stifling squall of somber?
That ravenously bashes the solace of a slumbering berserk.
Have you wreaked footprints in spite of the futile endeavor?
In a desert imploded with coarse gusts of a chagrin trance,
And revamped by golden skies, the eyelid of a desiccated storm
Of shattered epitomizing sands and sardonic haze that prance
With the violent beam of the winding prolix moon
Hovering the effervescence of its pristine visage
Fragile frame that smears vaguely behind the bloom.
Espousing those frail shoulders: a savior's entourage.
Do you know what flutters with your hands enfeebled?
Bludgeoning the oceans between lissome fingers
Does it vex you like a voyage amidst tides too bold?
That you made a ghost in the vile sea to linger
Have you ever held the ocean in your palms?
That echoes the blazing firmament in ripples;
A thousand waves for the sun's thousand arms
Coiled silently like life in the beast's navel.
Shorn aqueous silhouette of lights, hope, and innuendo
Of an ornate chandelier clasped by the perilous sea
With the sweetest waves and a florid lighthouse in the milieu.
Holding your nimble hands: a widow of symmetry.
Do you know what glitzy light remains untold?
To fulminate bilateral somniloquy with its reflection
Do you kiss the cheeks; the vestige of a faithful word?
That subtly whispers a light in every conversation
Have you seen the rainbow that caroms inside?
Inside a mirror bijou stalling within the depths of you
And your world of wonders and its perverting glide
Like paper planes with wings of serendipity in pursuit.
We are candles, cradling incorporeal lights.
We are mirrors, counter-feigning aphorisms.
We spew of colors from mauve to maize all too bright.
Mantling our soul, the arsonist mane of a prism.
poem by Norman Santos
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Related quotes
Fantasies Of A Mirror Part-1
The mirror gasped as she stood in front of it with her tresses flowing longingly
The mirror looked in her dark brown eyes
The mirror admired her almost perfect lips
The mirror gazed longingly at her perfect hips
The mirror took her in its arms
The mirror embraced her reflection in itself
The mirror ran its fingers through her soft hair
The mirror kissed her lips a thousand times
The mirror bit her slender neck
The mirror whispered a thousand nothings in her ears
The mirror …..The mirror ……The mirror
The mirror left its love bites all over her soft warm body
poem by Leonard Rebello
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Owed To another Ode
If you'll find yourself in the midst of fierce winds and glacial lances
In the scrutinizing cornea of the storm where darkness dances and prances
You would hear a rummaging voice, a wail yearning to fulminate
In your clasped ears devoured by fear, sore enough to deteriorate
Whispering a code, the key to a labyrinthine yonder the wicked storm
Asserting an intrusion of blind devotion reaped from another maelstrom
And along the shriek shrilling melody there would be a spark of light
Ephemeral forking flash, to hark back your eyes its aptitude to take flight
From a single-angled view to the phantoms and chances reveling in the milieu
If hope is blinding, then so is loathing; vindication basks within you.
If you'll find yourself excoriating the layers of the scorching aurora of the sun
Shunning the streaks of light, undraping to probe another fear to out run
You would burn beneath the bludgeoning rivers, drown in ethereal fire
When you find endless anguish and torment beneath a flaming quagmire
And your sightless eyes would depart from life just to recognize
What has been there all along; a singsong carom accompanying the lies
We dream with oblivious eyes, find darkness in the garish light
We owe this to our frail constitutions; all too scarce and blight
From the estoque of blades where we gladly surrender and die
If faith is a diversion, then so is conceding; you know where salvation lies.
poem by Norman Santos
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Beyond The Rainbow
On the dark side of the canyon
the rain is falling down
the beam of light gliding from it
shines beyond the rainbow
the beautiful colors arch over the mountain
that gives the valley a peaceful glow
I know I could be happy beyond the rainbow
Ugly clouds form and start to thunder
lightning lights up the desert plain
you can see beyond the rainbow
as it mirrors in your window pane
I can see inside the raindrops
I can feel it's gentle glow
I know there must be someone who loves me
just beyond the rainbow
what causes a heart to love
where is there enough magic to let someone know
I believe thats where God put Heaven
Just beyond the rainbow
poem by Widmarc Clark
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Between My Teeth!
it is in the darkened hallways
of the mind that has no boundaries,
in the silent moment between sin and glory,
when there really is no difference....
in the pause between thunder and lightning,
when mountains are oceans,
and oceans are acorns.
in the infinity between breaths,
and the illusion between death and life.
in the cardboard box that holds lifetimes,
in the universe beneath tiny wings.
in snowflakes, and tiny crumbs of starlight,
on the wet lips of the hungry wolf.
in the droppings of a thousand bats,
and the swinging trunks of elephants.
in the drunken stagger from the grave,
and the space between notes where music is born.
in the sound of waves a hundred miles from the shore,
in the cleft beneath the tongue where god sleeps.
in the frozen wasteland between our bodies,
where fire waits for the few who dare.
in the crucifix, the cock, and the prism,
in the empty glass,
and the book unread.
it is there that you will find me,
with your heart between my teeth!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Moon Bathers
Falls from her heaven the Moon, and stars sink
burning
Into the sea where blackness rims the sea,
Silently quenched. Faint light that the waves hold
Is only light remaining; yet still gleam
The sands where those now-sleeping young moon-bathers
Came dripping out of the sea and from their arms
Shook flakes of light, dancing on the foamy edge
Of quiet waves. They were all things of light
Tossed from the sea to dance under the Moon —
Her nuns, dancing within her dying round,
Clear limbs and breasts silvered with Moon and waves
And quick with windlike mood and body's joy,
Withdrawn from alien vows, by wave and wind
Lightly absolved and lightly all forgetting.
An hour ago they left. Remains the gleam
Of their late motion on the salt sea-meadow,
As loveliest hues linger when the sun's gone
And float in the heavens and die in reedy pools —
So slowly, who shall say when light is gone?
poem by John Freeman
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The Mirror Struggled
The mirror struggled; reflecting beauty such as hers
Prescribed a glory in the challenge – a fairytale
Or such as like! To shimmer back hypnotic hues
From auras of her skin – how do mirrors cope?
Hoary tales of pretty adolescent buds
Could never hope to match the tomes of dreamy
Pulchritude apprising us of such a belle as she.
The mirror shone; and as it worked itself, a moment –
Did it overlook the hidden melancholy?
Were melting eyes bedewed–? Florid lips imbued
With mournfulness? The hindrance of the silver glass!
Oh! to seek – to know the meaning of the sorrow!
She (with tearful hair, an image out of heaven)
Never opened up her heart. The mirror struggled.
Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009
m irror mirror mirror - mirror mirror mirror
mirror mirror mirror - mirror mirror mirror
mirror mirror mirror - mirror mirror mirror
mirror mirror mirror - mirror mirror mirror
mirror mirror mirror - mirror mirror mirror
mirror mirror mirror - mirror mirror mirror
mirror mirror mirror - mirror mirror mirror
mirror mirror mirror - mirror mirror mirror
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Oh Life
[pack/parsons]
Waves roll out
Out to sea
Tasting the saltwater
Tears upon her cheek
Morning breaks
Shes not there
Who could ever find her?
Who would even care?
No one heard
No one came
No angel of mercy
Appears to know her name
Where is hope
When words fail
All the colours running
Inside when life turns pale
In the dock the boats are harboured
Where the waters cold and still
Oh life, she cries, Ive lost the will
From the bridge she sees a lifetime
Being washed upon the shore
Oh life, she cries
There must be more...
Tides roll in
Waters rise
Any chance of reason
Only clouds her eyes
Arms of grace
She wont feel
All the wounds inside her
That time can never heal
The city lights shine seaward
Swirling in a trance
Her eyes upon the water
Alone in her last dance
>from the docks the boats are leaving
As she cries into the dawn
Oh life, Im barely holding on
And she sees her future falling
Til it finds the ocean floor
Oh life, she cries
There must be more
There must be more
And with the early light
Shell sail into the clear
The winds are all behind her
The hours almost here
>from the bridge she hears the voices
Turn into a roar
Oh life she cries
There must be more
On the dock her soul is sinking
But her spirit longs to soar
Oh life, she cries
There must be more
There must be more
There must be more
Oh life Im barely holding on
There must be more
There must be more
Oh life there must be something more
song performed by by Alan Parsons Project
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tales Of Brave Ulysses
By eric clapton and martin sharp
You thought the leaden winter would bring you down forever,
But you rode upon a steamer to the violence of the sun.
And the colors of the sea blind your eyes with trembling mermaids,
And you touch the distant beaches with tales of brave ulysses:
How his naked ears were tortured by the sirens sweetly singing,
For the sparkling waves are calling you to kiss their white laced lips.
And you see a girls brown body dancing through the turquoise,
And her footprints make you follow where the sky loves the sea.
And when your fingers find her, she drowns you in her body,
Carving deep blue ripples in the tissues of your mind.
The tiny purple fishes run laughing through your fingers,
And you want to take her with you to the hard land of the winter.
Her name is aphrodite and she rides a crimson shell,
And you know you cannot leave her for you touched the distant sands
With tales of brave ulysses; how his naked ears were tortured
By the sirens sweetly singing.
The tiny purple fishes run lauging through your fingers,
And you want to take her with you to the hard land of the winter.
song performed by by Eric Clapton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tales Of Brave Ulysses
By eric clapton and martin sharp
You thought the leaden winter would bring you down forever,
But you rode upon a steamer to the violence of the sun.
And the colors of the sea blind your eyes with trembling mermaids,
And you touch the distant beaches with tales of brave ulysses:
How his naked ears were tortured by the sirens sweetly singing,
For the sparkling waves are calling you to kiss their white laced lips.
And you see a girls brown body dancing through the turquoise,
And her footprints make you follow where the sky loves the sea.
And when your fingers find her, she drowns you in her body,
Carving deep blue ripples in the tissues of your mind.
The tiny purple fishes run laughing through your fingers,
And you want to take her with you to the hard land of the winter.
Her name is aphrodite and she rides a crimson shell,
And you know you cannot leave her for you touched the distant sands
With tales of brave ulysses; how his naked ears were tortured
By the sirens sweetly singing.
The tiny purple fishes run lauging through your fingers,
And you want to take her with you to the hard land of the winter.
song performed by by Cream
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Kissing Mouth
something's pressing to my lips
something's trying to kiss me
mouths clash
saliva splash
stains my face red
i can't feel
anything
just a funny smell
something pulls my lips apart
something hot and wet and fast's
kissing me
and i'd scream
but for an alien tongue
i can't hear
anything
just a funny sound
my head's getting light
i try to struggle
but only hit my own mouth
the tongue between my lips
is so poisonously sweet
something's pressing to my lips
something's kissing me
mouths sing
depths unseen
and hope for a better world
i can't say
anything
just a simple chain of words
poem by Max Kuvaev
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By The Seaside : The Lighthouse
The rocky ledge runs far into the sea,
And on its outer point, some miles away,
The Lighthouse lifts its massive masonry,
A pillar of fire by night, of cloud by day.
Even at this distance I can see the tides,
Upheaving, break unheard along its base,
A speechless wrath, that rises and subsides
In the white lip and tremor of the face.
And as the evening darkens, lo! how bright,
Through the deep purple of the twilight air,
Beams forth the sudden radiance of its light
With strange, unearthly splendor in the glare!
Not one alone; from each projecting cape
And perilous reef along the ocean's verge,
Starts into life a dim, gigantic shape,
Holding its lantern o'er the restless surge.
Like the great giant Christopher it stands
Upon the brink of the tempestuous wave,
Wading far out among the rocks and sands,
The night-o'ertaken mariner to save.
And the great ships sail outward and return,
Bending and bowing o'er the billowy swells,
And ever joyful, as they see it burn,
They wave their silent welcomes and farewells.
They come forth from the darkness, and their sails
Gleam for a moment only in the blaze,
And eager faces, as the light unveils,
Gaze at the tower, and vanish while they gaze.
The mariner remembers when a child,
On his first voyage, he saw it fade and sink;
And when, returning from adventures wild,
He saw it rise again o'er ocean's brink.
Steadfast, serene, immovable, the same
Year after year, through all the silent night
Burns on forevermore that quenchless flame,
Shines on that inextinguishable light!
It sees the ocean to its bosom clasp
The rocks and sea-sand with the kiss of peace;
It sees the wild winds lift it in their grasp,
And hold it up, and shake it like a fleece.
The startled waves leap over it; the storm
Smites it with all the scourges of the rain,
And steadily against its solid form
Press the great shoulders of the hurricane.
The sea-bird wheeling round it, with the din
Of wings and winds and solitary cries,
Blinded and maddened by the light within,
Dashes himself against the glare, and dies.
A new Prometheus, chained upon the rock,
Still grasping in his hand the fire of Jove,
It does not hear the cry, nor heed the shock,
But hails the mariner with words of love.
'Sail on!' it says, 'sail on, ye stately ships!
And with your floating bridge the ocean span;
Be mine to guard this light from all eclipse,
Be yours to bring man nearer unto man!'
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Broken Chances
My Love,
I don't know how you're going to get this,
But it is my last word on this Earth.
Just what ever you do sit alone and read this.
I want you to be at the lake where you gave me my first kiss,
I want you to sit by the tree that held us, and read this.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You were my love, my only one person who always made me smile,
You held my hand through so many things, so many firsts.
You were my light you were my smile
And you told me the three deadly words,
The words that always kill, but first make you smile.
I have sewed my mouth shut, so you will never see me smile.
I would melt at the sound of your voice,
I would just sit and listen just to know you were really there,
I would call when you weren't home, just to hear your voice.
My wish every day was to hear you say 'I love you',
To hear your voice.
I have glued my ears so I don't have to listen to your lies.
I remember the feeling of your hands running through my hair,
You'd weave your fingers through it to comfort me,
Sometimes I would act sad just to feel your fingers in my hair,
I would silently smile and melt in your arms.
I remember your fingers running through my blond hair.
I have cut my hair so I can never remember that feeling.
U can see you standing looking at me with your sparkling eyes,
I always see you,
I can never see past those deep eyes,
I can see you smile at me, see your hands reach for mine.
I can still see your eyes.
I have cut my eyes out so I can never again fall into your deceiving eyes.
You made my heart race with butterflies, with hope.
I gave you my heart to keep, you said you'd never break it,
You gave me the one thing i needed ti keep going; hope.
And I fell for the traps, I gave you EVERYTHING.
I ave you all the hope I held in my heart, my soul.
I have stabbed my heart, just so you can't shatter what's already broken.
You became my life, you became my love, my everything.
No matter what happened I still loved you,
And no matter what I tried to give you everything,
And you made me loose so much that I'm left with nothing,
And with my dying breath I give you what was all I had left, my everything.
I take my life to show you what love really means, that it's not the lie you told.
I may not be able to smile when you hold me,
I may not be able to hear your words even if their truth,
I may not be able to remember you soothing touch, or your warmth,
I mat not be able to see your eyes, or your reaching hands,
I may not be able to press my beating heart against your skin,
I may not be able to give you a second chance, for like my heart it is broken,
But After the pain and lies, I believe in what I felt for you,
And hope maybe someday you'll believe the same, and find beauty from pain
Even with nothing left to give you but my word, I breath my last breath for you.
I lay in silence to let you live, to give to you a broken second chance,
For I will always love you,
Be............
by: Bethany Maxwell =)
poem by Bethany Maxwell
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Afternoon Flow Of Linking Thoughts
there you are
pain and its protrusions
creeks to rivers
and tributaries like
fingers of the hands
into thy chest to listen
to the whispers of the
heart the sea and the
ocean to become whole
again to be not noticed
as pain and its protrusions
but wagering waves friends
of the monsoon winds
slaves of the lights of the moon
sailing like ships losing
their shadows to a limitless
horizon into that darkness
sleepy until the next opening
day of the sun where light
in profusion blinds the eyes
the truths that scare us
we should have loved and
believed like gripping hands
of our very best friends.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Superfluity of Her Petals
In the dark of the pitch black velvet
Of the town's fluttering skies, she;
A rose, with quaint petals of solitary
Cries and somber interpolations
Scars the escritoire that could never
Bleed for her marred verve and demise
Saliently in silence she stirred the ripples
Of quietude and eviscerated the scorches
Perched upon her poreless skin
In the heraldry of emollient light orbs
Dangling in asunder lampposts parceling
The slumbering hostile doors and windows
Creating latticing shadows to eagerly dispose
The svelte prism of pristine strangeness
Austerely ensconced in this odorless town
Where motes plummet down eagerly
Whetting the lackluster sheen of her
Mystical redolence of truancy
Like an arachnid she spun her home,
Her grave, her trap, inside her bones
Like an arachnid she swings rooftops
With a silver thread in the semblance
Of a lynch and of an eloquent lace
To bind the mistral spell in the haze;
Her laces creates a psychedelic marquetry
That only few people can grasp and see
Those who danced with the shadows,
Those who pounced with the fall,
Those who quaffed the tea and spew
The pseudo-saccharine innuendo,
Those who plucked the thorns
Crawling the ladders of your hue,
Are here with me for you.
poem by Norman Santos
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Glass Boy, Spare Some
Pliant flame, spare one simper for a boy
Who wore a vessel of naked sincerity too lucid
That reduced his opulence into thin films
Of frailty, steadfast with detrimental affection
Of vulnerability, committed to debonair convictions
He submits into a disposition of undeserving woes and pains
In a terrain with no tender arms, a valley of jagged hopes
That glistened like the epitomizing skin of shattered glass
Phosphorescent crust encumbering a fragile soul
Spared of scarce sympathy, corrupted of his golden crown
Abrade of flaws and lamentations, tethered in a town
Of make believe people and cheap bliss that tinker
Inside a hollow glass receptacle too agonizing to touch
The papyrus-thin veneer of diaphanous crust
In a vow to transparency to the skeletons and demons
That cordially lingered in the wardrobe of terror
Giving away all that there is; hope and its disease
Porcelain grandiosity drained in a lack-lusting ride
Of rueful nights, sullying to impotency a glass-like pride
Held by the hand, but who would hold such fragile hands?
Shattered mirrors and razor edges, fulminate thy prancing light
And devour the darkness of the mantling abandonment
Spare a piece of heaven, glass boy of flimsy grip
Spare an ounce of faith, glass boy of authentic grief
For I have enough spared for a goblet full of emptiness
Iron eyes for a glass frame, a boy too earnest.
poem by Norman Santos
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Curtains of Malignance
Your heavy mascara
And violent red lips
Technicolor berries
Can it moor the squirming
Seraphs and lice?
A thousand prolix words
Inside a single line
Can it calm to compensate
A thousand virulent wars
In one solitary day?
Inedible metallic veneer
Flustering the eyes
Crucifying the hands
Of the prying spectators
Can it really harm?
Step on the pedal gravely
The engine rummages
And you hum along
Can you ever run
And outrun your home?
Four dark corners
One despondent room
And ten colossal icons
Of religious expeditions
Can your prayers save you?
Prowl and roar, dear Hyena
For as hapless as it may seem
We'll never know
But we'll let it roll
The curtains of malignance.
poem by Norman Santos
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I Listen To thy Music Everywhere!
I feel my spine is thy flute,
My breath is thine,
Producing strange music,
AUM in different tone and pitch!
My heart beats like Drum and
bass,
when my ears able to listen,
Songs you sing
Everytime different and new,
using different flutes!
Thy face I see in mirror of
different drops of life,
the rainbow of colors appear,
When your light refract through
drops that rain from heaven!
Thy light glows too in fire of hell,
and thy beauty in colourful
flowers,
Birds and butterflies,
Thy light shines in different colours,
life in every species making whole world colourful!
Thy song echoed even in murmur of bees,
in the flow of rivers,
Or in the voice of persons,
and the noice of people alike In the roar of a lion or of ocean waves,
Or in the silence of icy
mountains,
I listen to thy music everywhere!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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Golden Rope
Fire is the color of my true loves hair
Near to the father sits his golden chair
By prayer and petition to the king on his left
Light is the burden that I bear
O so enchanting are these
Lovely chains that bind you
neath their deadly weight
The lords eye did find you
With fear and tremblin
Before the one with your wounds
Your eyes as empty as my savior tomb
Warm is the breath of his holy spirit
He who has ears to hear let m hear it
Torn were the hands of the worthy lamb
May you know his name and fear it
There you are hangin by the golden rope
There you lie no hope
song performed by by 16 Horsepower
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Burning Your Letters By The Shallow Shores
Burning your letters by the shallow shores
Where we once sat watching reflections of night
Of faraway glimmers on a slow winding river
Where the quietude would play on words so bright
Where our eyes were lost in each others quest
Where resonated in reticence echoes of our silences
When our hands clasped to explore each others fate
Where the song filled breeze caressed our soul
There shake gales of wind, now lies an eerie howl
There the shore now lay barren, the river gone parched
The reflections we mused now erased by a cloak
The letters I then poured now become ash and smoke
Burning your letters by the shallow shores
poem by Saadut Hussain
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Your Silence; an Invitation
Your hair of synthetic shades and its torrid arcane
That palms its wave to a coaxing fiction
Grating mirth of profuse delight,
Destructing hurricane.
Your little hands with polished tips and brazen palms
That surreptitiously throttles its own schmaltz flair
Fluttering egoistically,
Risqué trance in motion.
Your taciturn footsteps in crowded rooms
That whets all gluttons in yawning vales
Devouring in attrition,
Resounding an empty soul.
Your convicted eyes feinting from establishment
That vicariously stabs with vexation
Piercing the veil of cordial brides,
Prolix stare.
Your contoured lips slavering the mongrels
That sullies a hedonist in an incisive stance
Inflecting esoteric mesh,
Florid smile.
Your sharp tongue dawdling inside a metallic cellar
That spews too much to dismember quixotic words
Titillating desires of carnal carnage,
Lissome claymore.
Your fastidious guise and the hubris of your clad
That tut a sheave of notes of lamentable flux
Whittling away your comporting silence,
Intrepid harridan.
Your silence would be left with taut dictates
That yields and gushes inside your diminutive veins
Engaging friction in your brittle bones,
A vying triumph.
Your silence, who would hear them?
Blanching the vacuous skies into an endless poem
Succumbing repose of cumbersome rout,
Alaska.
poem by Norman Santos
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