An Angel
An Angel…Or?
I knew as soon s she came in she was from
a place I hadn’t been… before. She was silent.
sat down and began some embroidery work,
a silk dress for a delightful nuptial.
By the entrance to a house we stood kissing,
the door was black as the entrance to hell,
and the ground was white as snow…her eyes
bottomless green, flickered in desire.
Search light, we had been caught in the glare
unbecoming lust, and ran to a bus shelter.
Silent rain like tears, knew I had to run away,
she wanted me to take the lift heavenward.
The elevator out of order, and her face was
lost in a miasma of the unremembered.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Related quotes
In The Dusky Path Of A Dream
IN the dusky path of a dream I went to seek the love who was mine in a former life.
Her house stood at the end of a desolate street.
In the evening breeze her pet peacock sat drowsing on its perch, and the pigeons were silent in their corner.
She set her lamp down by the portal and stood before me.
She raised her large eyes to my face and mutely asked, 'Are you well, my friend?'
I tried to answer, but our language had been lost and forgotten.
I thought and thought; our names would not come to my mind.
Tears shone in her eyes. She held up her right hand to me. I took it and stood silent.
Our lamp had flickered in the evening breeze and died.
poem by Rabindranath Tagore
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Like Her Mom Did
Tears run down her face
Her dad can tell it wasn’t a good day
She wanted to tell what was wrong
She wished that she could sing that song
Like her mom did
Her dad knew there was nothing he could say
She knew that she couldn’t ever pay
Her dad felt the heat in the room
He knew he needed to save her from doom
Like her mom did
She fled to her room and shut the door
Just as rain from her eyes began to pour
She turned on the radio to clam her down
She blasted it as high to the loudest sound
Like her mom did
As her dad knocked on the door
Trying not to bang or break the floor
All he wanted was to know what was wrong
All she wanted was to remember the song
That her mom sang
poem by Alexandra Anderson
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Hurt And Destruction Of An Angel
An angel in disguise
hidden behind broken pride
of all these human lies
an angel without wings
long ago cut off
fallen from heaven
never to go back
an angel far from home
made to walk this world alone
an angel consumed by fears
as tears roll down her face
she feels like a disgrace
an angel wanting to go home
but caught in this hell
can only ask one thing
'God what did i do to deserve this,
why and i being punished all i did was love'
an angel lying dead
blood covers her pure white dress
god must have seen what he did for it rained non stop
an angel gone to hell
never to be scene again
her creator lost what he loved
cause he did not let her love
poem by Jennifer Panner
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Fable of the Mermaid and the Drunks
All those men were there inside,
when she came in totally naked.
They had been drinking: they began to spit.
Newly come from the river, she knew nothing.
She was a mermaid who had lost her way.
The insults flowed down her gleaming flesh.
Obscenities drowned her golden breasts.
Not knowing tears, she did not weep tears.
Not knowing clothes, she did not have clothes.
They blackened her with burnt corks and cigarette stubs,
and rolled around laughing on the tavern floor.
She did not speak because she had no speech.
Her eyes were the colour of distant love,
her twin arms were made of white topaz.
Her lips moved, silent, in a coral light,
and suddenly she went out by that door.
Entering the river she was cleaned,
shining like a white stone in the rain,
and without looking back she swam again
swam towards emptiness, swam towards death.
poem by Pablo Neruda
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Witch
Eyes, rivulets of red that run beneath a canopy
Of green-tinged lashes –
Tear blood playing on the grey-white skin,
Stretched across the twin peaks of cheekbone.
That slender pillar of a neck –
Magnet of eroticism, blinds to
Veins gorging on the flesh,
Dancing under pulse of blood –
Or whatever pumps inside.
Coal-black lips word intentions –
Castigations – variations of the horror
She was born to be.
O the hair! – a flame-orange avalanche
Thundering down to Hell
Where seething mounds of torn bodies lost their souls
To viler wants and fouler holes of
Scatological minds.
And the plunge of lavish breast –
E’er the siren’s weapon! –
Baits the mortal man –
Were he to chance his hand across
The certainty of doom.
But still we go, our weakness on display –
Hers will not a challenge be to see to our decay.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2011
Under lust rain
lust lust lust lust lust lust lust
lust lust lust lust lust lust lust
lust lust lust lust lust lust lust
lust lust lust lust lust lust lust
lust lust lust lust lust lust lust
lust lust lust lust lust lust lust
lust lust lust lust lust lust lust
lust lust lust lust lust lust lust
lust lust lust lust lust lust lust
lust lust lust lust lust lust lust
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Fable Of The Mermaid And The Drunks
All those men were there inside,
when she came in totally naked.
They had been drinking: they began to spit.
Newly come from the river, she knew nothing.
She was a mermaid who had lost her way.
The insults flowed down her gleaming flesh.
Obscenities drowned her golden breasts.
Not knowing tears, she did not weep tears.
Not knowing clothes, she did not have clothes.
They blackened her with burnt corks and cigarette stubs,
and rolled around laughing on the tavern floor.
She did not speak because she had no speech.
Her eyes were the color of distant love,
her twin arms were made of white topaz.
Her lips moved, silent, in a coral light,
and suddenly she went out by that door.
Entering the river she was cleaned,
shining like a white stone in the rain,
and without looking back she swam again
swam towards emptiness, swam towards death.
poem by Pablo Neruda from Return of the Mermaid (Regresó la sirena) (1954)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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It’s the forth day
It’s the forth day
that I am at my new work
and the elevator is broken
just like my life
And I have to walk
to another entrance
The people are friendly,
but it’s a hell of a thing
to have only a contract
for a month.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Face
You take a final look around
And then you put your house-key down
Upon the table by the note
You take your handbag and your coat
You don't want too much to carry
To slow you down on the way
You picture his face
In the morning
As he was going to work
Without saying a word
You saw the face
Of a stranger
It wasn't always like this before
His face like a stranger
You didn't know what to say
So you are going away
From the face of a stranger
And not the lover you knew before
Why should you want to call your friends
Why should you want to start again
You tried explaining through the years
But it would always end in tears
And one thing you know for certain
You've said goodbye to that place
But still
You picture his face
In the morning
As he was going to work
Without saying a word
You saw the face
Of a stranger
It wasn't always like this before
His face like a stranger
You didn't know what to say
So you are going away
From the face of a stranger
And not the lover you knew before
Somewhere a telephone
Is ringing in an empty room
Miles away
You are looking at a new town
But you are thinking of the past
The rain is falling down
Why do you keep that photograph
Of his face like a stranger
As he was going to work
Without saying a word
You saw the face
Of a stranger
And not the lover you knew before
His face
In the morning
As he was going to work
Without saying a word
You saw the face
Of a stranger
It wasn't always like this before
His face like a stranger
You didn't know what to say
So you are going away
From the face of a stranger
And not the lover you knew before
His face
In the morning
As he was going to work
Without saying a word
You saw the face
Of a stranger
It wasn't always like this before
song performed by by Anni Frid Lyngstad from Shine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mask of My Heart
As the cloud went to black
We lost our way back
As the sun set to night
No smiles of something bright
Lonely the moon bounced the starlight
When blood became cold as frostbite
Bleeding inside till black from red
Let the honesty fainted bed
They broke words of silent voices
Without harm with many chances
Never to see the truth
Nor then to face the truth
All remained invisible sight
Black blocked the white to face to light
Broken the heart of smiling face
When sense was gone no eyes to gaze
It turned into the silent noise
Black without smile and cheer but voice
Whispering tears dropped inside heart
It hurt it broke Mask of my heart
poem by Vidi Pudinkz
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Shattered windows, Colors of white
Across the street is a new house with a room painted red, with no holes of white.
Next to me, a house purple, with its color pealing off, with holes of black and white
At the end of the street, an old house once yellow, what now remains white.
The sound of a hammer building a house, entering a place with a color unknown.
On the street,
Windows covered with ice
Some shine with light.
Some broken
Some fixed
Some lost, out of sight.
A house, two blocks from here.
Shines with lights of yellow, red, and green everywhere.
A wall keeping the wind from blowing anywhere.
The house next door, at the dawn of the day.
Paints its room black, and peals the color away.
The wall crumbles.
The wind blows across the colors of yellow, red and green
Breaks all the windows.
Turns the yellow to blue, red to black, and green to white.
The house two blocks away.
Adds a line of yellow red and green everyday.
To allow the house of blue, black and white to shine for us some day.
poem by Linda ErikssonBique
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The Elevator
I was on the ground floor
and I wanted level five.
I pressed the call button
and waited for it to arrive.
It arrived with no one in it,
so I entered and closed the door.
It took its time to get going,
then slowed for the next floor.
The doors hesitated then opened,
but no one was there,
but I definitely felt a presence
and a disturbance in the air.
I was standing still and anxious
when the lift shook from side to side.
The doors closed and up it went to three
where the doors opened wide.
Again no one was there waiting,
but I felt someone get in.
Movement in the air and floor
was most unsettling.
I was overwhelmed and nervous
as it approached level four.
It stopped, but no one was waiting,
just like the stops before.
The elevator paused for a second
and I swear someone got in.
I was certain that I heard whispering
as the elevator set off again.
The space felt uncomfortably eerie
cold, but very much alive.
The rotten egg smell made me sickly,
as we went passed level five.
The light suddenly turned to darkness,
and I could see forms and shapes.
They were pushing each other violently,
as we approached level eight.
I pressed the emergency button,
but we still passed eight, nine, and ten.
At level eleven the elevator stopped…
then began to go down again.
At eight the elevator came to a halt
and everyone but me got out.
The darkness became light again,
so relieved, I gave out a shout.
The elevator continued downwards
and stopped at the ground floor.
An old lady and her dog waiting to enter,
but I couldn’t exit the elevator door.
poem by Orlando Belo
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Lonely Angel On Hallow Ground
Little lady laced in the heavenly gown
Caught outside the witching hour
I see your face as a benevolent frown
Lonely angel on hallow ground
Neither friend nor fiend in my apprehension
Who graces this doorway of mine?
Witness I a portal to your dimension
Lonely angel on hallow ground?
All I remember just boyish confusion
Which opens my mind forever
The spirit of your claim transcends delusion
Lonely angel on hallow ground
In your presence an unworthy selection
Such canyon girth before unknown
I err you always past mortal detection
Lonely angel on hallow ground
I call your name when not in my ignorance
A frigid space then now after
I hinder your message to obtain entrance
Lonely angel on hallow ground
poem by Jay Bradley
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Hailstone Food
My father loved the rain
Rain with hailstones
Twenty years gone past
When green and blue
Was all I knew
No red of blood
Nor ‘supreme’ of white
Nor ‘beauty’ of black
Just green and blue and love
It rained with hailstones
White stones from heaven
My father knelt down
On wet September grass
His head to the sky
Few stones in his hands
My father said
‘‘Thank you Lord for hailstone food! ”
I recall less of other days
When it didn’t rain
Perhaps such days were spent
Patiently waiting to say
“Thank you Lord for hailstone food! ”
Twenty years long wait
Four hearts waiting, breaking
My father waiting, breaking
Waiting! ?
But every body waited for him
I think my father never knew
About the power within him
To make the rain fall
Down once again
And hailstones to scatter
His September lawn
I know now
He was a patient man
Yesterday I dug a hole
And I closed a chapter
With all my childhood’s tears
I put my father in the ground
Funny this:
As the body went down
The clouds began collecting
As the sand filled the hole
The rain began to fall
And as we left the site
White stones scattered the land
poem by LLM Mbatha
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for John on his first frustration
let me draw you a house
with an entrance gate
leading to an entrance
door and some windows
to let in air.
just that, there will be no
exit doors, no exit gate,
all the windows open,
not designed to close,
that precisely is success
and failure.
there is a sense of
entrance triumphant
ditto an exit for some
ordinary and even
inevitable failures of
our lives.
the windows are some
of our other options, we
let in air to breathe
for a while. we must.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Silent River Part2
Sunday is a holiday
I'do again
I'makes again
The memories of the silent river
I'come again
To remember
I'have ever love and miss
Here in the silent river, silent so silence
The memories of the silent river
I'felt his love again in this river
I'felt his longing again in this river
I'felt his kindly again in this river
And i'see again his softly face in the water
In this silent river, silent so silence
The silent river
Makes me remember
I'miss again
the silent river
Makes me to get so many things
Sitting nearby silent river
Come to me the lonely
Come to me the long yearning
Come to me the tears
Come to me the rain
The silent river keep my memories good
In the silent river, silent so silence
Save me now, from all the dejected
To spin around all back
This silence is geeting on my nerves
Were i'am so afraid
You were to be lost in thought
And all was lost to me
Here in the silent river, silent so silence
Angel On My Shoulder
Written by natalie cole and richard marx
I never thought Id ever make it, I cant believe the hell Ive been through
Couldnt see the light at the end of the tunnel, I didnt know what to do
Ive been through the rain, Ive been through the fire
There was something that I never knew
Chorus
I had an angel on my shoulder, with a plan for me divine
Must be an angel on my shoulder, who was right there all the time
(angel, must be an angel) this world can be so cold and so heartless
Its hard to find your way alone, I used to run so fast, no one could catch me
I couldnt find the way back home, but Ive laughed, Ive cried
I almost died, but my broken heart just never knew
Chorus
I had an angel on my shoulder, with a plan for me divine
Got to be an angel on my shoulder, who was right there
Right there all the time, everybody needs someone to cling to
With an unchanging love, I finally found a hand to hold on to
A shelter to run to, now I see hes watching over me
Chorus
(angel on my shoulder, angel) Ive got an (angel on my shoulder)
Angel on my shoulder, with a plan for me divine
Got to be an (angel on my shoulder), angel on my shoulder
Who was right there, right there, right there all the time
Got to be an angel, an angel, an angel, right there all the time
song performed by by Natalie Cole
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Angel In Disguise
Angel in disguise she was
But somehow you fell for her
Until she broke your heart that day
And left you in the rain
But still I love you
I found it quite strange
The way you said her name
And when you look in her eyes
I see the lust you can't deny
It's more to this tahn what you say
Cause in your sleep you called her name
You say she's just a friend
I knew right then cause the rain began
She seemed so familiar the day that I met her
Who was she foolin' I had a clue what she was doin'
Thoughts of suspicion brought to my attention
I fell in her game I'm so lost
Please stop the rain
And when my music stops
And when my tear drops
And when the rain ends
My heart will beat again
song performed by by Brandy from Never Say Never
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Butterfly Angel's Angel
I met someone somewhere out there
One angel, with eyes that dare
I saw him sent from the sky
Oh, he’s an angel, an angel of a butterfly
Dark angel, cricket angel, my only angel
You had no idea what is heaven and what is hell
Gazing into your blue eyes when we first met
Wow, I knew then, you were a heaven sent
Dark angel, you are a white angel
You lighted my path when dark days prevail
Now I know, you didn’t walk away
Stay with me, is all I pray
Dark angel, oh my angel
Cover me, fly beside me
I love you, I need you with me
All I wanted is only you and me
I love you
-your butterfly angel-
poem by Tough Angel fly purple butterfly fly
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Novims Nightmare
Once I had a dream, that worried me
Like a drunken guillotine
Lingering just above my head
Why, why, why, why?
Why was I born the nine
Cursed repeatedly
Who would know if I should die.
No one needed me
Doo doo doo doo doo
Dark and empty was the place to which Id come
Cold and silent was the house my name was on
Nine rooms and a tomb in every one
Sdark and empty was the place to which Id come
All at once my bones began to change
I was tall and young again,
Sweet as rain falling on the snow
Who, who, who, who?
Who is he, who am i, and
What laid in between?
How can I say goodbye? no one let me in
Cant see no need for nine no more
Now its too late to open the door.
song performed by by Cat Stevens
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In Memoriam: Anna Akhmatova, poet
Last Spring I stood
in front of the bronze statue
they’ve put up in your honour
on the banks of the Neva
not far from the prison's red wall
just as, half in jest, you requested it,
never expecting this...
the thaw had just started
and a white snow crystal, already half transparent,
melted in the corner of your bronze eye
as if it were a tear
I watched it slide down Spring's warming bronze,
down past your name on the base,
across the trodden snow of the pavement,
into the Neva whose memory is time itself,
and as it joined the river's flow of breaking, creaking ice and snow
the sunlight caught it, briefly.
The next day
I walked to your dacha in the woods
as the first light rain of Spring
gently washed the birch saplings
and the brown leaves of last autumn now revealed
made a silent carpet for my feet;
and the pale sunlight
caught a raindrop, briefly.
In some future Spring
a poet’s tears fall as gentle rain.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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