The Unicorn
The saintly hermit, midway through his prayers
stopped suddenly, and raised his eyes to witness
the unbelievable: for there before him stood
the legendary creature, startling white, that
had approached, soundlessly, pleading with his eyes.
The legs, so delicately shaped, balanced a
body wrought of finest ivory. And as
he moved, his coat shone like reflected moonlight.
High on his forehead rose the magic horn, the sign
of his uniqueness: a tower held upright
by his alert, yet gentle, timid gait.
The mouth of softest tints of rose and grey, when
opened slightly, revealed his gleaming teeth,
whiter than snow. The nostrils quivered faintly:
he sought to quench his thirst, to rest and find repose.
His eyes looked far beyond the saint's enclosure,
reflecting vistas and events long vanished,
and closed the circle of this ancient mystic legend.
poem by Rainer Maria Rilke
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Related quotes
Old Letters
Last night some yellow letters fell
From out a scrip I found by chance;
Among them was the silent ghost,
The spirit of my first romance:
And in a faint blue envelope
A withered rose long lost to dew
Bore witness to the dashing days
When love was large and wits were few.
Yet standing there all worn and grey
The teardrops quivered in my eyes
To think of Youth's unshaken front,
The forehead lifted to the skies;
How rough a hill my eager feet
Flung backward when upon its crest
I saw the flutter of the lace
The wind awoke on Helen's breast!
How thornless were the roses then
When fresh young eyes and lips were kind
When Cupid in our porches proved
How true the tale that Love is blind!
But Red-and-White and Poverty
Would only mate while shone the May;
Then came a Bag of Golden Crowns
And jingled Red-and-White away.
Grown old and niggard of romance
I wince not much at aught askew,
And often ask my favourite cat
What else had Red-and-White to do?
And here's the bud that rose and sank,
A crimson island on her breast--
Why should I burn it? Once again
Hide, rose, and dream. God send me rest.
poem by Norman Rowland Gale
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The Unicorn
As I wandered through the woods one night,
I stumbled upon a most magnificent sight.
It was an hour or so, before the break of dawn,
That, in a moonlit clearing, I spied a Unicorn.
Hidden behind a tree, I stood and stared;
To reveal myself to him, I did not dare.
In the grassy clearing, he stood and grazed,
As I stood there watching him, in a daze.
Of the Unicorn’s beauty, I was in total awe;
He was the most majestic creature I ever saw.
His coat was as white as freshly fallen snow,
And, it had to it, a pearlescent, luminous glow.
His flickering ears were alerted by every sound;
At the tiniest whisper, his head turned around.
His golden, spiral horn stood at least a foot long;
Heaven help the creature who does him wrong!
The moon shone in his large, dark, reflective eyes.
Although he seemed so gentle, he seemed so wise.
His long, soft, shiny mane was just like ‘angel hair’;
Curled around his neck and shoulders, it flowed there.
His hooves, like his horn, were of burnished gold.
He really was the most beautiful sight to behold.
Suddenly, he galloped off into the surrounding mist.
Now, having seen a Unicorn, I know that they do exist.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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Subway
He saw her at the subway station
Standing on the platform waiting for the train.
Inside the car they sat in front of each other.
She was quite young.
Though not strikingly pretty
She was good looking and attractive
And he liked her back-combed black hair.
It was long and lustrous and gathered into a chignon
And softened with a purple satin ribbon
That matched her elegant blue dress.
She wore high heeled black shoes
And her ivory skin shone on her comely legs.
The train moved and stopped
And moved again
At the stations the doors opened and closed
And people streamed out and in.
She sat quietly in her seat
And then opened her purse
And pulled out a candy
Wrapped in golden paper.
She removed carefully the wrapping
Put the candy slowly into her mouth
And then folded neatly the paper
And put it back into her purse.
He watched her discretely for a short while
And then closed his eyes
And when he opened them he saw
That she cast a timid glance looking at him.
He liked her.
He wanted to start a conversation with her
But somehow it just did not seem appropriate
To address a complete stranger on a train
And besides he was afraid to say something silly.
So he remained silent.
He wanted to say something to her
But he did not have the courage.
And then suddenly he panicked
Because he realized that he cannot speak
That he cannot pass through the invisible barrier
That extended between them
That despite her presence
He cannot reach out to her
That he is unable to have her in his life
And that they soon will get off the train
And he probably never will see her again.
The car wheels
Kept clacking and rattling over the rails
And they both sat silently on their seats
Two lonely islands in a withdrawn crowd.
Then the subway pulled into a station
And it was time to alight from the car.
Without saying a word
He walked through the door
And across the car window he saw her.
She was looking at him.
The train began to move slowly
Along the platform of the station
A moving image melting away
Like an ice dragon in the heat of summer.
In a few seconds it vanished
Into the thin air through the dark mouth
Of the subway tunnel.
poem by Paul Hartal
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Margaret's Bridal Eve
I
The old grey mother she thrummed on her knee:
There is a rose that's ready;
And which of the handsome young men shall it be?
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.
My daughter, come hither, come hither to me:
There is a rose that's ready;
Come, point me your finger on him that you see:
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.
O mother, my mother, it never can be:
There is a rose that's ready;
For I shall bring shame on the man marries me:
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.
Now let your tongue be deep as the sea:
There is a rose that's ready;
And the man'll jump for you, right briskly will he:
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.
Tall Margaret wept bitterly:
There is a rose that's ready;
And as her parent bade did she:
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.
O the handsome young man dropped down on his knee:
There is a rose that's ready;
Pale Margaret gave him her hand, woe's me!
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.
II
O mother, my mother, this thing I must say:
There is a rose in the garden;
Ere he lies on the breast where that other lay:
And the bird sings over the roses.
Now, folly, my daughter, for men are men:
There is a rose in the garden;
You marry them blindfold, I tell you again:
And the bird sings over the roses.
O mother, but when he kisses me!
There is a rose in the garden;
My child, 'tis which shall sweetest be!
And the bird sings over the roses.
O mother, but when I awake in the morn!
There is a rose in the garden;
My child, you are his, and the ring is worn:
And the bird sings over the roses.
Tall Margaret sighed and loosened a tress:
There is a rose in the garden;
Poor comfort she had of her comeliness
And the bird sings over the roses.
My mother will sink if this thing be said:
There is a rose in the garden;
That my first betrothed came thrice to my bed;
And the bird sings over the roses.
He died on my shoulder the third cold night:
There is a rose in the garden;
I dragged his body all through the moonlight:
And the bird sings over the roses.
But when I came by my father's door:
There is a rose in the garden;
I fell in a lump on the stiff dead floor:
And the bird sings over the roses.
O neither to heaven, nor yet to hell:
There is a rose in the garden;
Could I follow the lover I loved so well!
And the bird sings over the roses.
III
The bridesmaids slept in their chambers apart:
There is a rose that's ready;
Tall Margaret walked with her thumping heart:
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.
The frill of her nightgown below the left breast:
There is a rose that's ready;
Had fall'n like a cloud of the moonlighted West:
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.
But where the West-cloud breaks to a star:
There is a rose that's ready;
Pale Margaret's breast showed a winding scar:
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.
O few are the brides with such a sign!
There is a rose that's ready;
Though I went mad the fault was mine:
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.
I must speak to him under this roof to-night:
There is a rose that's ready;
I shall burn to death if I speak in the light:
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.
O my breast! I must strike you a bloodier wound:
There is a rose that's ready;
Than when I scored you red and swooned:
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.
I will stab my honour under his eye:
There is a rose that's ready;
Though I bleed to the death, I shall let out the lie:
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.
O happy my bridesmaids! white sleep is with you!
There is a rose that's ready;
Had he chosen among you he might sleep too!
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.
O happy my bridesmaids! your breasts are clean:
There is a rose that's ready;
You carry no mark of what has been!
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.
IV
An hour before the chilly beam:
Red rose and white in the garden;
The bridegroom started out of a dream:
And the bird sings over the roses.
He went to the door, and there espied:
Red rose and white in the garden;
The figure of his silent bride:
And the bird sings over the roses.
He went to the door, and let her in:
Red rose and white in the garden;
Whiter looked she than a child of sin:
And the bird sings over the roses.
She looked so white, she looked so sweet:
Red rose and white in the garden;
She looked so pure he fell at her feet:
And the bird sings over the roses.
He fell at her feet with love and awe:
Red rose and white in the garden;
A stainless body of light he saw:
And the bird sings over the roses.
O Margaret, say you are not of the dead!
Red rose and white in the garden;
My bride! by the angels at night are you led?
And the bird sings over the roses.
I am not led by the angels about:
Red rose and white in the garden;
But I have a devil within to let out:
And the bird sings over the roses.
O Margaret! my bride and saint!
Red rose and white in the garden;
There is on you no earthly taint:
And the bird sings over the roses.
I am no saint, and no bride can I be:
Red rose and while in the garden;
Until I have opened my bosom to thee:
And the bird sings over the roses.
To catch at her heart she laid one hand:
Red rose and white in the garden;
She told the tale where she did stand:
And the bird sings over the roses.
She stood before him pale and tall:
Red rose and white in the garden;
Her eyes between his, she told him all:
And the bird sings over the roses.
She saw how her body grow freckled and foul:
Red rose and white in the garden;
She heard from the woods the hooting owl:
And the bird sings over the roses.
With never a quiver her mouth did speak:
Red rose and white in the garden;
O when she had done she stood so meek!
And the bird sings over the roses.
The bridegroom stamped and called her vile:
Red rose and white in the garden;
He did but waken a little smile:
And the bird sings over the roses.
The bridegroom raged and called her foul:
Red rose and white in the garden;
She heard from the woods the hooting owl:
And the bird sings over the roses.
He muttered a name full bitter and sore:
Red rose and white in the garden;
She fell in a lump on the still dead floor:
And the bird sings over the roses.
O great was the wonder, and loud the wail:
Red rose and white in the garden;
When through the household flew the tale:
And the bird sings over the roses.
The old grey mother she dressed the bier:
Red rose and white in the garden;
With a shivering chin and never a tear:
And the bird sings over the roses.
O had you but done as I bade you, my child!
Red rose and white in the garden;
You would not have died and been reviled:
And the bird sings over the roses.
The bridegroom he hung at midnight by the bier:
Red rose and white in the garden;
He eyed the white girl thro' a dazzling tear:
And the bird sings over the roses.
O had you been false as the women who stray:
Red rose and white in the garden;
You would not be now with the Angels of Day!
And the bird sings over the roses.
poem by George Meredith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Passing of the Elder Bards
THE MIGHTY Minstrel breathes no longer,
Mid mouldering ruins low he lies;
And death upon the braes of Yarrow
Has closed the Shepherd-poet’s eyes:
Nor has the rolling year twice measured,
From sign to sign, its steadfast course,
Since every mortal power of Coleridge
Was frozen at its marvellous source;
The ’rapt One, of the godlike forehead,
The heaven-eyed creature sleeps in earth:
And Lamb, the frolic and the gentle,
Has vanished from his lonely hearth.
Like clouds that rake the mountain-summits,
Or waves that own no curbing hand,
How fast has brother followed brother,
From sunshine to the sunless land!
Yet I, whose lids from infant slumber
Were earlier raised, remain to hear
A timid voice, that asks in whispers,
“Who next will drop and disappear?”
poem by William Wordsworth
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Ben Boyd's Tower
Ben Boyd's Tower is watching—
Watching o’er the sea;
Ben Boyd’s Tower is waiting
For her and me.
We do not know the day,
We do not know the hour,
But we know that we shall meet
By Ben Boyd’s Tower.
Moonlight peoples Boyd Tower,
Mystic are its walls;
Lightly dance the lovers
In its haunted halls.
Ben Boyd’s Tower is watching—
Watching o’er the foam;
Ben Boyd’s Tower is waiting
Till the “Wanderer” comes home.
O! he lay above us—
High above the surf—
Finger-nails and toe-caps
Digging in the turf.
We do not know the day,
We do not know the hour,
But Two and Two shall meet again
By Ben Boyd’s Tower.
There’s an ancient dame in Eden—
Basket on her arm—
And she goes down the Main Street
From the old, old farm.
Hood drawn on her forehead—
Withered dame and grey—
She never looks on Boyd Tower
Out across the Bay.
Bright eyes in the ballroom,
Coquetting with two,
Just for love of mischief,
As a girl will do.
A quarrel in the bar-room—
All within the hour—
And four men rode from Boyd Town
To Ben Boyd’s Tower.
poem by Henry Lawson
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Misery
Misery
By: Adam M. Snow
Here I am alone in somber;
as I rest calmly here in my chamber.
Suddenly there rose a clatter;
for I hear it calling out to me;
'Who's there that my eyes cannot see? '
I said as the voices replied,
'Misery is me, I am your misery.'
I rose from my slumber;
with haste of morning ember;
to be stopped by an essence of me.
'How can this be? ' I said. 'Truly it can't be me.'
This is too real even for a dream;
truly it cant even be a ream.
'So who are you to be a reflection of me? '
Thus he replied, 'I am your misery.'
He said he is my misery;
if that is the case how can that be?
for I've held this pain in for so long;
that I do not know what went wrong;
for I am also numb,
weary, dreary, and some;
for I know not what would become of me;
if I was to set it free.
For I know now that this will be the end of me;
to be killed by my own misery.
I reach deeply within myself letting loose of my feelings;
as my misery whispered in my ear; he said, 'Your time is near.'
Must this be, for I feel that I'm not ready?
For all the things that I have done, I am truly sorry.
This is truly the end of me;
thus my last words be,
'Misery is me, I am my misery.'
poem by Adam M. Snow
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In Contact With An Angel
Still asleep in beautiful repose
A knock I heard on my door
Guess the intruder was to the door very close
Cos at my inquiry his voice, though pale became as bold as ore
I, opening my door looked at the little God-created creature
As he stood helplessly like a log of wood
Please sire, he asked in a well-mannered nature
Can you, if you don't mind offer me some food?
God! , he was clad in a garment, so poor
And he looked so cold as snow
How could I now deny him of what he asked for?
Though yonder he came from I don't know
Please, the little stranger asked again
I know you know not me
But please help quench this hunger, this pang of pain
And I ever shall be grateful to thee
As I lay before him a luscious dinner
He looked at the delicacies turn by turn
A smile creased over his cheek like that of a winner
And before long he devoured it all one by one
And suddenly, the little boy in transfiguration turned white
Thank you for helping an angel says he to me
And in a deep bow ascended with the speed of light
And as I stood awe-struck I beheld what I had seen
Wow, I had helped a blessed creature
What a blessed creature I am, I said to myself.14: 59: 31.15/11/10
poem by Olajide Ajibola
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Its Come To This
And I found my head uncrowned and all lifes sweet nectar flowing down
The cracks and seams wasted on some petty little prayers
And i
Reached up for despair but I was well below that cherished stage
And all my mangled hopes all song unsung
I fear Ive wasted all my sun
I fear Ive wasted all my time
Everything is faded
Smiles are fabricated now
I fear Ive wasted all my sun
I fear Ive wasted all my time
Held my eyes closed for too long
And I ran out through the streets in hopes that I might find it there
But all my buildings stared back at me tenantless and bare
And i
Reached up for the sky, but it always seemed so far away
Transcendent thoughts you gave lie atrophied and broken
And I sat when I should have stood; swallowed when I should have spit
Until now I only recognize me in pictures taken long ago
And
All the changes simply haunt and never go away
A friend will tell when I hit hell, I may not feel the change
Held my eyes closed for too long
Held my eyes closed for too long
Just before I go dont you offer any sweet advice because where were all
Your shoulders when I needed them so long ago
And
Now with legs weak and weary from this silly dance
With a suitcase fulof memories, I pack my bags and slowly drift away
song performed by by Fuel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Eyes Of Mr D (Part 1)
They took the cotton gauze away
from his closed eyes.
“You can open them now Mr D.”
He opened his eyes to see hazy figures there,
black and grey images, and nothing more.
A gentle and kind voice, asked him what he saw.
“Hazy images>“He replied.
“It will be like that for a little while,
and then they will begin to clear.”
Each day his sight got better, the
haze began to clear.
Then the colour came,
and a rainbow spectrum appeared before his eyes,
of things he could never see.
A light shone through his life,
of things he had never known.
A new awakening
with images to fit the sounds.
His mind began to wonder
where his new eyes had come from.
They were not allowed to tell him,
who the donor was or anything about them.
Finally, he was released from hospital.
He went back to his flat
where he had to learn again,
where everything was now that he could see.
He smiled at the white walking stick.
He would keep it as a reminder
of how lucky he was.
Sitting in his chair in the sunshine,
as it came through the window.
Then it happened.
It was as if he were in a dream.
The images lost their colour.
He was in a place he had never seen before.
Hands reached out around the neck,
of a face he could not see.
It seemed as if
they were strangling the life out of someone there.
The body struggled and then went limp.
On the body, falling, the face was now revealed.
A young pretty face
distorted in the throes of death.
poem by David Harris
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The Marvelous Toy
When I was just a wee little lad, full of health and joy
My father homeward came one night and gave to me a toy.
A wonder to behold it was with many colors bright
And the moment I laid eyes on it, it became my hearts delight.
It went zip when it moved and bop when it stopped whirrrrr when it stood
Still
I never knew just what it was and I guess I never will.
The first time that I picked it up I had a big surprise.
For right on its bottom were two big buttons that looked like big green eyes.
I first pushed one and then the other, then I twisted its lid.
And when I set it down again, this is what it did.
It went zip when it moved and bop when it stopped whirrrrr when it stood still
I never knew just what it was and I guess I never will.
It first marched left and then marched right, then marched under a chair
And when I looked where it had gone it wasnt even there.
I started to cry but my daddy laughed cause he knew that I would find.
When I turned around my marvelous toy would be chugging from behind.
It went zip when it moved and bop when it stopped and whirrrrr when it stood
Still
I never knew just what it was and I guess I never will.
The years have gone by too quickly it seems, I have my own little boy.
And yesterday I gave to him my marvelous little toy
His eyes nearly popped right out of his head and he gave a squeal of glee...
Neither one of us knows just what it is but he loves it just like me.
It still goes zip when it moves and bop when it stops, whirrrrr when it
Stands still
I never knew just what it was and I guess I never will.
song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Living Picture
HE RODE along one splendid noon,
When all the hills were lit with Spring,
And through the bushland throbbed a croon
Of every living, hopeful thing.
Between his teeth a rose he bore
As white as milk, and passing there
He tossed it with a laugh. I wore
It as it fell among my hair.
No day a-drip with golden rain,
No heat with drench of wattle scent
Can touch the heart of me again
But with that young, sweet wonder blent.
We wed upon a gusty day,
When baffled fury whipped the sea;
And now I love the swift, wet play
Of wind and rain besetting me.
I took white roses in my hand,
A white rose on my forehead shone,
For we had come to understand
White roses bloomed for us alone.
When scarce a year had gone he sped
To fight the wars. With eyes grown grim
He kissed my lips, and whispering said:
“The world we must keep sweet for him!”
He wrote of war, the soldier’s life.
“’Tis hard, my dearest, but be brave.
I did not make my love my wife
To be the mother of a slave!”
My babe was born a boy. He had
His father’s eyes, his smile, his hair,
And, oh, my soul was brimming glad—
It seemed his father’s self was there!
But now came one who bade me still
In holy Heaven put my trust.
They’d laid my love beneath the hill,
And sealed his eyes with timeless dust.
Against my breast the babe I drew,
With strength from him to stay my fears.
I fought my fight the long days through;
He laughed and dabbled in my tears.
From my poor heart, at which it fed
With tiger teeth, I thrust despair,
And faced a world with shadow spread
And only echoes in the air.
The winter waned. One eve I went,
Led by a kindly hand to see
In moving scenes the churches rent,
The tumbled hill, the blasted lee.
Of soldiers resting by the road,
Who smoked and drowsed, a muddy rout,
One sprang alert, and forward strode,
With eager eyes to seek us out.
His fingers held a rose. He threw
The flower, and waved his cap. In me
A frenzy of assurance grew,
For, O dear God, ’twas he! ’twas he!
I called aloud. Aloft my child
I held, and nearer yet he came;
And when he understood and smiled,
My baby lisped his father’s name.
They say I fell like something dead,
But when I woke to morning’s glow
My boy sat by me on the bed,
And in his hand a rose of snow!
poem by Edward George Dyson
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The Tournament
Joust First.
I.
Bright shone the lists, blue bent the skies,
And the knights still hurried amain
To the tournament under the ladies' eyes,
Where the jousters were Heart and Brain.
II.
Flourished the trumpets: entered Heart,
A youth in crimson and gold.
Flourished again: Brain stood apart,
Steel-armored, dark and cold.
III.
Heart's palfrey caracoled gayly round,
Heart tra-li-ra'd merrily;
But Brain sat still, with never a sound,
So cynical-calm was he.
IV.
Heart's helmet-crest bore favors three
From his lady's white hand caught;
While Brain wore a plumeless casque; not he
Or favor gave or sought.
V.
The herald blew; Heart shot a glance
To find his lady's eye,
But Brain gazed straight ahead his lance
To aim more faithfully.
VI.
They charged, they struck; both fell, both bled.
Brain rose again, ungloved,
Heart, dying, smiled and faintly said,
"My love to my beloved!"
____
Camp French, Wilmington, N.C., May, 1862.
Joust Second.
I.
A-many sweet eyes wept and wept,
A-many bosoms heaved again;
A-many dainty dead hopes slept
With yonder Heart-knight prone o' the plain.
II.
Yet stars will burn through any mists,
And the ladies' eyes, through rains of fate,
Still beamed upon the bloody lists
And lit the joust of Love and Hate.
III.
O strange! or ere a trumpet blew,
Or ere a challenge-word was given,
A knight leapt down i' the lists; none knew
Whether he sprang from earth or heaven.
IV.
His cheek was soft as a lily-bud,
His grey eyes calmed his youth's alarm;
Nor helm nor hauberk nor even a hood
Had he to shield his life from harm.
V.
No falchion from his baldric swung,
He wore a white rose in its place.
No dagger at his girdle hung,
But only an olive-branch, for grace.
VI.
And "Come, thou poor mistaken knight,"
Cried Love, unarmed, yet dauntless there,
"Come on, God pity thee! -- I fight
Sans sword, sans shield; yet, Hate, beware!"
VII.
Spurred furious Hate; he foamed at mouth,
His breath was hot upon the air,
His breath scorched souls, as a dry drought
Withers green trees and burns them bare.
VIII.
Straight drives he at his enemy,
His hairy hands grip lance in rest,
His lance it gleams full bitterly,
God! -- gleams, true-point, on Love's bare breast!
IX.
Love's grey eyes glow with a heaven-heat,
Love lifts his hand in a saintly prayer;
Look! Hate hath fallen at his feet!
Look! Hate hath vanished in the air!
X.
Then all the throng looked kind on all;
Eyes yearned, lips kissed, dumb souls were freed;
Two magic maids' hands lifted a pall
And the dead knight, Heart, sprang on his steed.
XI.
Then Love cried, "Break me his lance, each knight!
Ye shall fight for blood-athirst Fame no more!"
And the knights all doffed their mailed might
And dealt out dole on dole to the poor.
XII.
Then dove-flights sanctified the plain,
And hawk and sparrow shared a nest.
And the great sea opened and swallowed Pain,
And out of this water-grave floated Rest!
poem by Sidney Lanier
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An Embroidery
Rose Red's hair is brown as fur
and shines in firelight as she prepares
supper of honey and apples, curds and whey,
for the bear, and leaves it ready
on the hearth-stone.
Rose White's grey eyes
look into the dark forest.
Rose Red's cheeks are burning,
sign of her ardent, joyful
compassionate heart.
Rose White is pale,
turning away when she hears
the bear's paw on the latch.
When he enters, there is
frost on his fur,
he draws near to the fire
giving off sparks.
Rose Red catches the scent of the forest,
of mushrooms, of rosin.
Together Rose Red and Rose White
sing to the bear;
it is a cradle song, a loom song,
a song about marriage, about
a pilgrimage to the mountains
long ago.
Raised on an elbow,
the bear stretched on the hearth
nods and hums; soon he sighs
and puts down his head.
He sleeps; the Roses
bank the fire.
Sunk in the clouds of their feather bed
they prepare to dream.
Rose Red in a cave that smells of honey
dreams she is combing the fur of her cubs
with a golden comb.
Rose White is lying awake.
Rose White shall marry the bear's brother.
Shall he too
when the time is ripe,
step from the bear's hide?
Is that other, her bridegroom,
here in the room?
poem by Denise Levertov
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Motel Eyes
Her come on was direct and strong
From her question to her kiss
She said shed had a little much to drink
She didnt usually do this
But she was looking for another head to scalp tonight
And she had me right between her sights
I turned to face her as the jukebox clicked off
Playing a favorite song
And she looked pretty in the low lit bar
But something was wrong
I saw a dull red neon sign flashing in her eyes
It said vacancy, she had motel eyes
They were black as the night
And shone like a star
Fueled by the light
From a medicine jar
I looked again but there was nothing there
But ice in her eyes
Theres no disguising motel eyes
She had the angles all down pat
Her average must be high
And though it could have been a pleasure
I just had to say goodbye
Though there was something wicked
bout the way she flexed her thighs
She scared me with her motel eyes
They were black as the night
And shone like a star
Fueled by the light
From a medicine jar
I looked again but there was nothing there
But ice in her eyes
Theres no disguising motel eyes
She started saying something
bout movement versus size
The sign kept flashing in her motel eyes
They were black as the night
And shone like a star
Fueled by the light
From a medicine jar
I looked again but there was nothing there
But ice in her eyes
Theres no disguising motel eyes
Black as the night
Black as the night, motel eyes
song performed by by Rick Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I've Been Thinking About You
We've known each other
For a long long time
But I never really notcied
All the magic in your eyes
I've been around you
A thousand times before
And you've always been a friend to me
But now I'm wanting more
I must have been so blind
I never realized
You're the one that's right for me
All the while I couldn't see
And now I feel so strange
I'll never be the same
Going 'round and 'round in circles
And I don't know what to do
'Cause baby
I've been thinking about you
In the most peculiar way
I've been thinking about you
It's unbelievable to me
But suddenly I think
I'm falling in love with you
There's no explaining how I feel inside
I'm going through a transformation
That's so hard for me to hide
I had a revelation that
Finally opened my eyes
The one I spent a lifetime searching for
Was right here all the time
I was oblivious so very out of touch
All the while I couldn't see
You're the one that's right for me
And now my world has changed
I'll never be the same
Going 'round and 'round in circles
And it's all because of you
Sweet baby
I've been thinking about you
In the most peculiar way
I've been thinking about you
It's unbelievable to me
But suddenly I think
I'm falling in love with you
Don't you know
That you're blowing my mind
What you do to me
I can't describe
Baby I can't hold back anymore
I just can't conceal it
You're the one I really adore
I've been thinking about you
In the most peculiar way
I've been thinking about you
In the most peculiar way
I've been thinking about you
In the most peculiar way
I've been thinking about you
It's unbelievable to me
But suddenly I think
I'm falling in love with you
I've been thinking about you
In the most peculiar way
I've been thinking about you
It's unbelievable to me
But suddenly I think
I'm falling in love with you
song performed by by Mariah Carey from Music Box
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ive Been Thinking About You
- m. carey - d. cole - r. civils -
Uh baby
Weve known each other
For a long long time
But I never really noticed
All the magic in your eyes
Ive been around you
A thousand times before
And youve always been a friend to me
But now Im wanting more
I must have been so blind
I never realized
Youre the one thats right for me
All the while I couldnt see
And now I feel so strange
Ill never be the same
Going round and round in circles
And I dont know what to do
cause baby
Ive been thinking about you
In the most peculiar way
Ive been thinking about you
Its unbelievable to me
But suddenly I think
Im falling in love with you
Theres no explaining how I feel inside
Im going thru a transformation
Thats so hard for me to hide
I had a revelation that
Finally opened up my eyes
The one I spent a lifetime searching for
Was right here all the time
I was oblivious so very out of touch
All the while I couldnt see
Youre the one thats right for me
And now my world has changed
Ill never be the same
Going round and round in circles
And its all because of you
Sweet baby
Ive been thinking about you
In the most peculiar way
Ive been thinking about you
Its unbelievable to me
But suddenly I think
Im falling in love with you
Ive been thinking about you
In the most peculiar way
Ive been thinking about you
Its unbelievable to me
But suddenly I think
Im falling in love with you
Dont you know
That youre blowing my mind
What you do to me
I cant describe
Baby I cant hold back anymore
I just cant conceal it
Youre the one I really adore
Ive been thinking about you
In the most peculiar way
Ive been thinking about you
(I got you in my mind)
In the most peculiar way
Ive been thinking about you
In the most peculiar way
Ive been thinking about you
Its unbelievable to me
But suddenly I think
Im falling in love with you
Ive been thinking about you
In the most peculiar way
Ive been thinking about you
Its unbelievable to me
But suddenly I think
Im falling in love with you
Ive been thinking about you
In the most peculiar way
Ive been thinking about you
Its unbelievable to me
But suddenly I think
Im falling in love with you
song performed by by Mariah Carey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In Another Land
In another land where the breeze and the
Trees and flowers were blue
I stood and held your hand.
And the grass grew high and the feathers floated by
I stood and held your hand.
And nobody else's hand will ever do
Nobody else will do
Then I awoke
Was this some kind of joke
Much to my surprise
I opened my eyes.
We walked across the sand and the sea and
The sky and the castles were blue.
I stood and held your hand.
And the spray flew high and the feathers floated by
I stood and held your hand.
And nobody else's hand will ever do
Nobody else will do
Then I awoke
Was this some kind of joke
Much to my surprise
When I opened my eyes.
We heard the trumpets blow and the sky
Turned red when I accidently said
That I didn't know how I came to be here
Not fast asleep in bed.
I stood and held your hand.
And nobody else's hand will ever do
Nobody else's hand
Then I awoke
Was this some kind of joke
I opened my eyes.
Much to my surprise.
song performed by by Rolling Stones from Their Satanic Majesties Request
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Girl From Nowhere
The electric blue of a lightning sky
lit up the country lane momentarily.
She walked alone
with her scarf blowing in the wind
and her clothes soaked from the light rain.
But who was she and where was she?
She did not know.
Her eyes scanned everything
looking for something she recognised.
There was nothing there and she kept walking.
A crack of thunder startled her.
She jumped and looked around.
Lights of a car lit up the hedgerows
as it raced towards her.
She moved to one side
to allow it to pass.
The driver braked abruptly
along side of her.
The passenger window
wound itself down.
The driver smiled
out from the interior of the car.
“Are you all right miss? ”
The voice was low and warm.
She felt immediately
that she could trust it.
She looked in with large innocent eyes.
“Can you help me?
I cannot remember who I am or where I am.
The passenger door swung open.
“I think you had better get in.”
Cautiously she moved towards the car.
She climbed onto the passenger seat
and closed the door.
She glanced across
at her Good Samaritan.
“Thank you.” She whispered
as the car purred and moved forwards.
“There is a Police Station
about five miles ahead.
I will take you there;
they should be able to help you.”
She looked at him
as the car raced through
the quickly darkening lane.
“Haven’t you got a handbag? ”
He asked glancing across at her.
“Handbag? What is that? ”
“Where you keep your personal possessions in.”
She looked at him with a questioning look;
it was as if he was talking a strange language.
“My name is Jim Middleton.”
He said in his low warm voice.
She looked at him again
as the hedge rows disappeared
and streetlights and buildings
began to appear.
Scattered at first,
then more and more
as they moved into the town.
He stopped outside the Police Station.
He smiled. “We are here.”
Switching off the engine, he opened the door
and walked around the car.
He opened the door
to escort her into the station.
He stood mouth opened.
She was not there.
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Marilyn Monroe
I wish If I were living at the past
Even the fantasy gives my soul flight
If I could run back long long years
I wish if I could've the fantasy for real
I wish if I were one of legendary stars
If I open my eyes one morning and magic starts
While checking myself at mirror if I see I'm already a star
Oh I wish if I were an old black and white movistar
I wish if I were Marilyn Monroe
And day by day to live her history and feel her sorrow
I wish if I had her shining blue eyes and heart white snow
The magic smile to keep smiling till unending tomorrow
poem by Sossi Khachadourian
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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