Parted
SHE wrapped her soul in a lace of lies,
With a prime deceit to pin it;
And I thought I was gaining a fearsome prize,
So I staked my soul to win it.
We wed and parted on her complaint,
And both were a bit of barter,
Tho' I'll confess that I'm no saint,
I'll swear that she's no martyr.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Related quotes
Lonely soul
Lonely soul strives to feel
something
anything
to break free
a deadness that lies
a walking corpse
is all i am
Lonely soul
caged, trapped
can't get out
can't get free
no fight left
relentless
weakness gaining upon
Lonely soul
screams out
desperate chaotic screams
yet nobody listens
nobody cares
a lonely soul
is all there is.
poem by Darkangel Flyfree
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Martyr
Marley spoke against corruption
His soul was never up for barter
Death was but minor interruption
'Til "Son of Rasta" became martyr
ROTMS
View poems, image and video at;
ROTMS.blogspot.com
poem by Ray Lucero
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Had Thought
I had once thought about killing
But no-one could I ever kill,
I had once thought about robbing
But from no-one could I ever steal,
I had once thought about cheating
But to a love I could never cheat
I had once thought about lying
But to no-one could I cause deceit,
I had once thought about my death
But I did not want to die
I once thought about depression
But no longer did I want want to cry
I once thought about using
But no one could I ever use
I had once thought about abusing
But then to no-one could I ever abuse.
In my life I had these thoughts
As they would entered into my brain
But when they entered into my soul
From them all I did refrain.
I know what's right from wrong
And that truth can or will never change
Excuses instead of truth cannot be accepted
And sins cannot change their name.
Those ideals will still enter into my mind
Especially when temptation I had sought
But I will stay a virtuos and truthful man
When it comes to sins and lies, I too had thought.
poem by Randy McClave
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the modern martyr in the kingdom of God
i've just seen the picture of a man
devout catholic
gunned down in broad day,
falling to the ground,
and declared another martyr for
mother church,
sooner he becomes a saint
because he died
to the hands of the fanatics
the unbelievers,
sometimes i ask myself if this is the only way to become
a martyr, the only way to be a saint,
(does it really matter if one becomes a saint?)
i guess, there is another happy child of God
who has worked for the church
who cooked faith, who served beliefs,
who traveled far just to show how good God is,
the happy child does not have to die
for God wants him to be with his side,
smiling and alive,
He too is a saint. He sowed happiness.
He did not plant guilt. He did not grown scruples.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Under Wraps #2
Keep it quiet. (go slow.)
Circulate. need to know.
Stamp the date upon your file ---
Masquerade, but well worth while.
Wrapped in the warmth of you ---
Wrapped up in your smile.
Wrapped in the folds of your attention.
Wear an air --- (keep mum)
Of casual indifference.
Careful how you go
About your usual business.
Wrapped in daydreams of you ---
Wrapped up by your eyes.
Wrapped in the folds of your attention.
Under wraps! i've got you under wraps.
Tell you when --- (not yet)
Soon the great unveiling.
Bless my boots! upon my soul!
Secrecy, it is my failing.
Wrapped in your summer night ---
Wrapped in your autumn leaves.
Wrapped in the winter of your sleeping.
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Under Wraps
Keep it quiet. (go slow.)
Circulate. need to know.
Stamp the date upon your file ---
Masquerade, but well worth while.
Wrapped in the warmth of you ---
Wrapped up in your smile.
Wrapped in the folds of your attention.
Wear an air --- (keep mum)
Of casual indifference.
Careful how you go
About your usual business.
Wrapped in daydreams of you ---
Wrapped up by your eyes.
Wrapped in the folds of your attention.
Under wraps! Ive got you under wraps.
Tell you when --- (not yet)
Soon the great unveiling.
Bless my boots! upon my soul!
Secrecy, it is my failing.
Wrapped in your summer night ---
Wrapped in your autumn leaves.
Wrapped in the winter of your sleeping.
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet IV: Virtue, Alas
Virtue, alas, now let me take some rest.
Thou set'st a bate between my soul and wit.
If vain love have my simple soul oppress'd,
Leave what thou likest not, deal not thou with it.
The scepter use in some old Cato's breast;
Churches or schools are for thy seat more fit.
I do confess, pardon a fault confess'd,
My mouth too tender is for thy hard bit.
But if that needs thou wilt usurping be,
The little reason that is left in me,
And still th'effect of thy persuasions prove:
I swear, my heart such one shall show to thee
That shrines in flesh so true a deity,
That Virtue, thou thyself shalt be in love.
poem by Philip Sidney
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~Love Sick~
Aren't you sick of candy hearts,
and love letters trimmed in lace?
The same old words, 'I love you.' and
'I long for your embrace.'
The endless adoration,
I'd dig ditches in adulation.
Such fanaticism peels my soul.
Don't think that I'm cold hearted,
It's just this 'love thing' and I
have parted.
2005
version 2
Aren't you sick of candy hearts
and love letters trimmed in lace?
The same old words, 'I love you, ' and
'I long for your embrace'.
All the endless adulation,
such selfless adoration
sheer fanaticism peels my soul.
Don't think that I'm cold hearted,
It's just this 'love thing' and I
Have parted.
2009
poem by Sinnaminsun Sinnaminsun
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Youth Of 1,000 Summers
He's the youth of a thousand summers
He's the youth of a thousand summers
Like a sweet bird of youth
Like a sweet bird of youth
In my soul. in my soul, in my soul
In my soul. in my soul. in my soul
And he looks so radiant
And he shines like the sun
And he looks so radiant
And he lights up the world
He's the youth of a thousand summers
He's the youth of a thousand summers
Like a sweet bird of youth
Like a sweet bird of youth
In my soul, in my soul, in my soul
In my soul, in my soul, in my soul
Yeah, love it, yeah, love it
In my soul, in my soul, in my soul
In my soul, in my soul, in my soul
He's the king of the mountain
And the clear crystal fountain
He's the saint of the river
He's the ancient of days
He's the youth of a thousand summers
He's the youth of a thousand summers
Like a sweet bird of youth
Like a sweet bird of youth
In my soul, in my soul, in my soul
In my soul, in my soul, in my soul
And he makes you go skipping
And he makes you go dancing
And he gets you in rhythm
And he moves you in song
He's the youth of a thousand summers
He's the youth of a thousand summers
Like a sweet bird of youth
Like a sweet bird of youth
In my soul, in my soul, in my soul
In my soul, in my soul, in my soul
In my soul, in my soul, in my soul
Oh, in my soul, in my soul, in my soul
And a sweet bird of youth
In my soul (repeat)
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In Praise of Clothes
If it is only for the taking off-
the velvet cloak,
the ostrich feather boa,
the dress which slithers to the floor
with the sound of strange men sighing
on imagined street corners. . .
If it is only for the taking off-
the red lace bra
(with rosewindows of breasts),
the red lace pants
(with dark suggestion
of Venus' first name),
the black net stockings
cobwebby as fate,
criscrossed like our lives,
the silver sandals
glimmering as rain-
clothes are necessary.
Oh bulky barrier between soul & soul,
soul & self-
how it comforts us
to take you down!
How it heartens us to strip you off!
& this is no matter of fashion.
poem by Erica Jong
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My Soul
My soul cries for love
But only tears reply
My soul cries for attention
But only lonliness answers the door
My soul cries for a friend
Only to be ignored
By a stranger
My soul cries for hope
But despair with lies
Deceive the truth
Which blinds hope
My soul cries for warmth
As an artic freeze
Surrounding my soul
Entices it with the dance of death
My soul defeated
No longer cries
Accepts what it can't change
Lies still
Waiting to die
poem by Matt Mondschein
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The devil's diplomat
And so, dear soul,
you've reached this place called death.
You lived your life of avarice and opulence;
then you gasped at your last breath.
You see these gates of gold and ivory,
they were created just for you and me.
For you and I are so alike sweet one.
You've always loved the warmth of a fiery sun.
The weather here is sunny all the time.
Even the rain is warm on your face
and the sheets you'll sleep on are made of lace.
Or would you rather a better place?
Let me tempt you in dear soul departed
or be from these treasures forever parted.
I am the devils diplomat,
come, step upon the welcome mat.
poem by Ruth Walters
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Prayer
In my perfect world
Theres no need to right the wronged
Laid down my burden
I know I did not carry the weight
Not sure to who responsibility belonged
I turned a blind eye
While waiting for the hand of fate to still the waters
Heal all the broken hearts
And hope it could be done without a sacrifice
And maybe I just wouldnt pay the price
Ive fought this long enough
Now I send the prayer to heaven for the chance to be
A better man than the man I see
I send the prayer to heaven, lay your hands on me
I aint a saint but to this I swear I send the prayer
And now I feel all I can do is not enough
My rome is burning and Im standing at the deep abyss
But every passion started with an act of love
And every act of love, started with a single kiss
Father, father your gift was my world of light
And Ive betrayed you with a single judas kiss
Ive been my own executioner
But its not just me anymore
Now I send the prayer to heaven for the chance to be
A better man than the man I see
I send the prayer to heaven, lay your hands on me
I aint a saint but to this I swear
Burn my wasted pride
Open your heart to this
Theres a voice thats crying somewhere
Deep inside my soul for shelter
Now I send the prayer to heaven for the chance to be
A better man than the man I see
I send the prayer to heaven, lay your hands on me
I aint a saint but to this I swear
Now I send the prayer to heaven for the chance to be
A better man than the man I see
I send the prayer to heaven, lay your hands on me
I aint a saint but to this I swear I send the prayer...
Now I send a prayer to heaven...
song performed by by Rick Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Easier On Your Mind
There are things we need to tell,
something we must share,
a failing we have.
The problem is how do we tell them?
Will they push us aside when they know?
These are the questions
that torment us from time to time.
There are no lies attached
in what we have to confess.
Just our shame in what we do.
It’s not easy to tell someone something
they might feel uneasy about.
You need to confess though
as it is good for the soul
and easier on your mind.
7 April 2009
poem by David Harris
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Clari
Too cold, O my brother, too cold for my wife
Is the Beauty you showed me this morning:
Nor yet have I found the sweet dream of my life,
And good-bye to the sneering and scorning.
Would you have me cast down in the dark of her frown,
Like others who bend at her shrine;
And would barter their souls for a statue-like face,
And a heart that can never be mine?
That can never be theirs nor mine.
Go after her, look at her, kneel at her feet,
And mimic the lover romantic;
I have hated deceit, and she misses the treat
Of driving me hopelessly frantic!
Now watch her, as deep in her carriage she lies,
And love her, my friend, if you dare!
She would wither your life with her beautiful eyes,
And strangle your soul with her hair!
With a mesh of her splendid hair.
poem by Henry Kendall
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Emptiness fulfills my Soul
when your heart is full 'your' is at the brinks of loosing
yourself, swimming in the agony of uncertainty where
lies of promises wonder in the inner passion of
what is life of simplicity
all the wickedness will be remembered, when our soul
comes in the face of eternity, everything will be honor
and level, of what will be the best and the gaining in the
eyes of the giver of life
it is the fulfillment, where the end is the start of what is
life everlasting, the emptiness of thy soul is the fullness
of the spirit, where by to be weak satisfied my destiny
of living with all that makes me what i am in spirit
be steadfastly strong, don't be so fool in your heart, for the
heart conquers the conqueror of the universe, joining with
the kings make the King stand to fulfill your soul
nay! leave you in the gnashing of teeth in the dungeon of
life everlasting........emptied your soul to fulfill your Eternity
poem by Antonio Liao
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The Sad Cafe
You sit inside the Sad Cafe,
eyes tinged crimson red.
A shattered fearful heart today,
every dream has fled.
Broken tokens, love not spoken,
marred and scarred your soul.
Pause to make life's cause reopen,
then regain control.
Cafe of torn and broken hearts,
victims of deceit.
Their healing dreams now grown apart,
wrapped inside conceit.
Confusion is their constant song,
background music sung.
The caring Sad Cafe belongs,
brightly shines it's sun.
Fear is in the tears now falling
from their drowning eyes.
Now the healer hears them calling,
through the Cafe's cries.
Mystical Cafe is reaching,
to the healing muse.
Muses share their fearsome teaching,
on the tools to use.
So thank the stars for Sad Cafes,
all around the world.
The Sad Cafes may take away,
hatred gnarled and burled.
© S.E.S
poem by Sara Stowell
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“ I will never love you again”.
Every night,
I cry out my heart
To the pillow
And turning it upside down,
swear
“ I will never love you again”.
But,
Every morning
I get up
My soul filled up
To the brim,
with love for you.
My senses
all clouded,
with your thoughts.
And
Like a zombie,
I go on living,
Giving,
Laughing,
Crying.
While my soul
Yearns for your soul,
My heart
Pines for your love
And my being
Just wants to
reach out to you.
Then the days
Turns into nights
And again,
I cry out my heart
To the pillow
And turning it upside down,
swear
“ I will never love you again”.
Pray,
will this turmoil
of mornings and nights
ever for me
will end?
Will there be
A day
When this zombie
will have a soul again?
But till then,
Every night,
I cry out my heart
To the pillow
And turning it upside down,
Swear,
“ I will never love you again”.
poem by Anjali Kakati
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Love, Lace, and Lies
Shut under lock and key
Masking my identity with mystery
Love, lace, and lies
A just melody to raise my final goodbyes
Flourishing the last line of destiny with turmoil
Love
A foolish thing my sanity depends on
Where my heart is racing and my brain is gone
The most important part of my epic trilogy
Rising notes to the heavens with the power of a symphony
We learn to love and thus be loved in return
Lace
A final triumphant roar of my brooding elegance
Where my secrets are buried under layers of nonsense
The core heart and soul of my brick by brick barricade
In lace is where my individuality was made
Showing and revealing where my aura is concealing
Lies
A necessary act of dependent independence
Where my mercy is gone and my mind is tense
The ending chapter of my miserable history
Adding on these you will never unveil me
Try as you might, I've made too many pitiful excuses
No, you shall never unveil my surrounding mystery
My presence is a false identity
Love, lace, and lies
A just melody to raise my final goodbyes
I'm waiting for you to sneak a peek
poem by Gabrielle Fleming
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The Truth Within
The Violin in his hand, His mind is at a far
The tears held within: the winds resemble his sorrows
The strength in his voice, the pain in his soul
Why hold it all when the truth lies in your soul
The smiley face fades like the watery paint
The thought hit him like a dream in broad daylight
Patient was his virtue, but sorrow was to overcome
Why hold it all when the truth lies in your soul
His silence got the best of him
Now his pain cant be faded by her words
He would rather hold her than leave her,
His words wont change her mind
Why hold it all when the truth lies in your soul
She was a treasure worth keeping
but the wrong treasure for him 'she once said
Healing the truth, Healing the wounds
Regret is unbearable, Time is at its essence
Why hold it all when the truth lies in your soul
Sometimes the truth makes us walk away without a word
Sometimes it avoids us hurting the treasures in our lives
The best he hopes times forgives him
But it never does it reminds him the constant mistakes of his silence.
poem by Sylviah Salima
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