The Wound
Wound was
Very clear
But they
Wanted
For dressing
Safty;
Only for
Beauty
The wound was
In the body
On the face....! ! !
With sumall
Axedent...? ? ?
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Melancholy Of Jason Kleander, Poet In Kommagini, A.D. 595
The aging of my body and my beauty
is a wound from a merciless knife.
I’m not resigned to it at all.
I turn to you, Art of Poetry,
because you have a kind of knowledge about drugs:
attempts to numb the pain, in Imagination and Language.
It is wound from a merciless knife.
Bring your drugs, Art of Poetry—
they numb the wound at least for a little while.
poem by Constantine P. Cavafy
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Flesh Wound
We flew over miles of ocean--be prepared.
I don't have the faintest notion who'll be there.
You underestimated; nobody sympathized.
I think you'll soon feel better once we get inside.
I see the door is open -- Why don't we walk right in?
Let's put our party hats on and let the fun begin!
We should have called and said that we were on our way;
Who would have ever guessed that you'd be so unreachable?
Just another flesh wound--another thorn in my side
Just another flesh wound--another wonder-cure that you tried
Just another flesh wound--another scratch on your hide
Just another flesh wound--another irritation you abide
You know the rumour's going that he was synthesized.
And if we had to dress, I wouldn't be surprised.
I say -- you're so outrageous -- you'll go to number one!
They'll have us both arrested for having too much fun.
Just another flesh wound--another scratch on your hide.
Just another flesh wound--another thorn in your side.
Just another flesh wound--another bruise on your pride.
Just another flesh wound--another paranoia that you hide.
And when she held her nose, she took an underdose.
It was nice to see her completely comatose.
You go first, you're completely debonair;
Let's go dutch -- it's only fair.
Just another flesh wound--another thorn in your side.
Just another flesh wound--a minor injury you dignified.
Just another flesh wound--another unsuccessful suicide.
Just another flesh wound--another curse that you ride.
song performed by by Robert Palmer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wound
a wound will always
be a wound.
a scar may come
to say you are healed
but soon it will
remember the wound.
perhaps you have not
loved enough
to learn from those
whose hearts
are broken, they
say: forgive and forget.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Impromptu
Keep away from sharp swords
Don't go near a lovely woman.
A sharp sword too close will wound your hand;
Woman's beauty too close will wound your life!
The danger of the road is not in the distance;
Ten yards is far enough to break a wheel.
The peril of love is not in loving too often;
A single evening can leave its wound in the soul.
poem by Meng Chiao
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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To A Heartbreaker
Do not look for the wound
I am not hurt
And I do not bleed
You know
You injured me so
Worse
Than you think
But look I still know how
To carry myself
I look well
I still wear a smile on my face
I won’t show it
I won’t shed a tear
I won’t make you happy
As you want it to be
Look
I got no wound no bruises
Look
You must be surprised
I still keep myself alive
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Nucleus
How can you take away the nucleus
and expect everything outside of it
to stay mended together with strength?
A family is held together by a bandage.
You take away the bandage and you got a wound.
Sometimes a wound can heal on its own
and sometimes it can get infected or never heal.
I've seen it all before, the bandages go away
and then the wound that is left attacks itself.
The skin, the blood, the puss, and all the cells
that were once held together by one bandage
turn on itself and then it all melts as if touched by acid.
I don't think that will happen to our wound.
I think we'll all band together and form a new bandage.
It might not be one person holding it all together,
but it will be all of us coming together
like hospital staff to make sure we don't die of an infection.
poem by Cokbod Lodwogo
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Flesh Wound
Its four o clock in the mornin and the daylights creepin in
Im lyin awake in bed
Outside my window the rains just pourin down
And theres a pain inside my head
I looked hard into the mirror, took some water in my hands
And threw it on my face
But your memory wont fade away, I can see you everywhere
Around this empty space
This nights too long, Im fadin fast
I tell myself, this pain wont last
Its just a flesh wound
Missin my heart but it still cuts deep
Nothin but a flesh wound
It tore me apart and I still cant sleep
You know you really did it well
Now Im lyin on a bed of nails
But its nothin but a flesh wound
Better pull myself together, gotta hold my head up high
Thats what i;ve got to do
No damage done, but deep inside my heart
Who am I tryin to fool
Its over now, all in the past
I tell myself, this pain wont last
Its just a flesh wound
Missin, my heart, but it still cuts deep
Nothin but a flesh wound
It tore me apart and I still cant sleep
Ive got no choice, I must be strong
Cant lie here thinkin about it all night long
Its nothin but a flesh wound
(repeat chorus....)
song performed by by Foreigner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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“Faithful Trust”
There’s nothing to offer to those ignoble vows
But a long wail of dejection if this heart allows
Trust has come to open the wound
Averment carries no word for word
The misguided mind has become the guard
Trust has come to open the wound
A solemn promise’s been made to none
With faithlessness it is believed to have gone
Trust has come to open the wound
The wound that's trapped into bleeding emotion
To heal the pain it drinks the potion
Then trust has gone with its faithful notion
And everything fades with that true devotion.
(23rd of October,2010)
poem by Munia Khan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Broken Vase
The vase where this verbena is dying
was cracked by a blow from a fan.
It must have barely brushed it,
for it made no sound.
But the slight wound,
biting into the crystal day by day,
surely, invisibly crept
slowly all around it.
The clear water leaked out drop by drop.
The flowers' sap was exhausted.
Still no one suspected anything.
Don't touch! It's broken.
Thus often does the hand we love,
barely touching the heart, wound it.
Then the heart cracks by itself
and the flower of its love dies.
Still intact in the eyes of the world,
it feels its wound, narrow and deep,
grow and softly cry.
It's broken. Don't touch!
poem by Rene Francois Armand Prudhomme
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Little Toy Soldier
Once upon a time there was a toy soldier and he lived in the play room
Once upon a time there was a toy soldier with a whip lash in his hand
And every night little girl sadie would take all her clothes off and wind up the toy soldier and he raised his whip and said
On your knees little sadie
Little sadie on your knees
Taste the whip and love might given likely
Taste the whip and bleed for me
Little sadie loved her little toy soldier
And she run home from school each day
Little sadie loved her little toy soldier
And she locked her door so she could play
Little sadie got ambitious
And wound the clockworks so to tighter
So he could whip her harder and harder
On your knees little sadie
Little sadie on your knees
Taste the whip and love might given likely
Taste the whip and bleed for me
One day sadie wound and wound
And wound and wound
And wound and wound
Til suddenly the little toy soldier spring, went. . .
(ugly, beat her to death)
Ahhhh
Cough, cough, cough
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A knife-wound heals, but a tongue wound festers.
A knife wound heals; a wound caused by words does not.
A knife-wound heals, but a tongue-wound festers.
The wound of words is worse than the wound of swords.
Rime 34
Love, do you know why your fair mother gave you
These arrows to your hands, and bound your eyes?
That you may shoot the first wound and break
The heart of this or any faithful lover;
And tied the blindfold, so you cannot see
The dreadful cruelty you have inflicted
So that it will not let you suffer pity,
Or even moderate your impious furor.
For, if you saw one of my dreadful wounds,
You would not be a god, but a wild beast,
Or it might make you tender, or less fierce
I would not wish you to come face to face
With the rays of my sun; my wound would seem,
Next to his greatness, small and even light.
poem by Gaspara Stampa
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Tongue
Thank you for the time.
Like a razor kiss my wound.
Cut me to open.
Im ready to use.
Bring the newer ending sense.
I need the comfort of a stranger.
Eighteen years all the wait.
Like a razor kiss my wound.
Thank you for the touch.
Like a razor kiss my wound.
Cut me to open.
song performed by by Underworld
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Her two great eyes
Her two great eyes will slay me suddenly;
Their beauty so stunningly shakes and penetrates me who once was serene;
Straight through my heart the wound is quick sharp and keen.
This is such a rare beauty my eyes never before have seen
Only her word; her smile or any tune will heal the injury
To my hurt heart, while yet the wound is clean -
Her pair of two great eyes will slay me suddenly and savagely without a jury;
Their beauty shakes me who was once serene.
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Rondel of Merciless Beauty
Your two great eyes will slay me suddenly;
Their beauty shakes me who was once serene;
Straight through my heart the wound is quick and keen.
Only your word will heal the injury
To my hurt heart, while yet the wound is clean -
Your two great eyes will slay me suddenly;
Their beauty shakes me who was once serene.
Upon my word, I tell you faithfully
Through life and after death you are my queen;
For with my death the whole truth shall be seen.
Your two great eyes will slay me suddenly;
Their beauty shakes me who was once serene;
Straight through my heart the wound is quick and keen.
poem by Geoffrey Chaucer
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Sequel..chainsaw..my Despair.
MY SOUL VIEWS MY DESICCATED FRAME
NEVER TO BLOSSOM, SPROUT AND BEAR AGAIN
SUCH A WOUND FROM WHICH I CAN NEVER RECOVER
SOON THE UNDERTAKING AGENTS, MY BODY WILL BE ALL OVER
BREAKING ME DOWN AND RETURNING ME TO THE EARTH
I CAN ONLY HOPE OTHERS WILL GET THE CHANCE TO EXPERIENCE BIRTH
MY LIFE IS ENDED
MY WOUND CAN'T BE MENDED
I'M A DEAD TREE
STILL STANDING FOR ALL TO SEE
I STRUGGLED FOR LIFE IN SPITE OF WHAT THEY DID TO ME
THE FUTURE BODES NO GOOD
WE'LL BE CUT DOWN FOR THE VALUE OF OUR WOOD.
poem by Brian Roy Skyers
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Faithful Trust
There’s nothing to offer to those ignoble vows
But a long wail of dejection if this heart allows
Trust has come to open the wound
Averment carries no word for word
The misguided mind has become the guard
Trust has come to open the wound
A solemn promise’s been made to none
With faithlessness it is believed to have gone
Trust has come to open the wound
The wound that's trapped into bleeding emotion
To heal the pain it drinks the potion
Then trust has gone with its faithful notion
And everything fades with that true devotion.
Written on the night of the 23rd of October,2010
©Munia Khan 2010
poem by Munia Khan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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