Drawing Down The Stairs
She is not the same character
insane voice of noxious narrator
vituperative, virulent, vicious
vehemence vexing vitreous
She is not the same stranger
bouncing
down
the
stairs
far too the more beautiful,
it is far too the more cruel
this aching image
as ever my eye loves her
aching 'nihilating
dilating
doe-fully dread
long dread
longing her
my stomach
drops
knee
pops
sleep wallows woefully dead
By the breath I dr-awe
belieing breath
I long to draw
confusing 'flicting
rippling crippling
continuous contour of her
So with perilous 'nicious urge to purge
such pointedly pointless plight
and with accursed cursive cure to dread
I finish an old love poem instead
randy resh 2005
poem by Randy Resh
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Related quotes
I Dread the Silence
I need noise when I’m awake
I dread the silence when I am not asleep
It’s either pounding my eardrums with songs, music or any mp3s
or razzing it to an audio book or MTVs
Noise has been a means to cover up the reality
I dread the silence for it prods a cognizance that I’m alone despite the crowd.
I dread the silence fearing that I wake up from my self-created imaginary world
I dread the silence for fear that it made me question about my existence
I dread the silence fearing that I will hear the inner voice
clamoring and wanting to escape from this dragging circumstances
That still small voice which prefers peace
that still small voice wanting to get away from this kind of place.
that still small voice, crying from this senseless pace.
that still small voice, wanting a break from this pointless race.
poem by Champs Ulysses Cabinatan
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Over The Head, Below The Knees
You must not
Have a heart
Have nothing in your chest
To let it go for so long
That it goes over your head
You could fool anyone
With you pensive smile
And you could live in your lie
For only a while
And i can only take so much
(from not so far away)
And I admit this could be love
(but love can always wait)
But it goes over your head
What does she gave
Can you let go
Can you tell me
What I am aching to know
You could ruin any mood
just by saying whats on your mind
You could tame his body
Never tame his mind
And I can only take so much
(from now so far away)
And I admit this could be love
(but how long did you want to wait?)
But it goes over your head
What does she have
Can you let go
Can you tell me
What I am aching to know x2
What I am aching to know
If Im reaching you
You're not letting it show
Used up your space now
Theres no room to grow
To deep cant breath and
You cant find the end
Its right infront of you
But it goes over your head
What does she have
Can you let it go
Can you tell me
What I am aching to know x2
What I am aching to know
Can you tell me
What I am aching to know
You must not have a heart
Have nothing in your chest...
song performed by by New Found Glory
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Questions
I don't remember my first question asked
Might have been to my mother while in my crib I basked
Or maybe it was to my father when he kissed me goodnight
Then he said a prayer for me and then he turned off the light.
Many questions I have asked since the day I was born
Many questions I have answered and many I did mourn
Some of them were the truth, but them I had masked
I don't remember why, but I remember they were asked.
Questions are needed to understand our life
Answers are needed so we too might avoid strife
Life is full of questions and are as many as drops of rain
And like rain drops not two questions are really the same.
Questions will be a part of us until that day we die
We will come across them daily with who, what, where or why
I dread not the future, but I do dread the past
I also dread the day, not knowing which question of mine will be last.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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Ode To The Unfinished Poem
Some say that it’s no use,
crying over spilt ink
The piece is done
-now leave it in the moment
Take the time to feel the flowers;
absorb inhale aroma
a 'literreal ambrosia
But:
by the blue-blooded balls of Byron and
Billy Butler Ba-Buckin-eh Yeats
I so swear:
From the lips of every aching letter
there lies in limbo craving cradle
sobbing sum of crying character
something far the much more greater:
“I know that it’s good but,
we can do so far the better”
copyright Randy Resh 2002-08-...
poem by Randy Resh
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Love will soon be here
a dark mist falls across the land,
haunting all that it passes,
filling them with dread and hope,
that love will soon be here.
a raindropp falls on a child's face,
mixing with his falling tears,
filling him with dread and hope,
that love will soon be here.
as she covers it with makeup,
she has accepted the pain,
filing her with dread and hope,
that love will soon be here.
as i stare at the moon,
it shines just for me,
filling me with dread and hope,
that love will soon be here.
poem by Alexandra Puddle
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Daisies
I have daisies
for Misses Murphy
soft tender sheets
finest felt flannel
the meadow stains white
white dusking contour
white the colour
our silhouette shadowed
randy resh 2007
poem by Randy Resh
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A Herbal Mystic
Rastaman, fight them back
With a heart attack.
Lick them back,
Like them beat you down.
Brace your loins, like a king
And let the natty blow in the winds.
Dread, burn Babylon
With a herbal mystic,
Mystic!
Mystic!
They killed The Savior,
Born in a manger.
Killed the prophets,
With hatchets.
And the liars are still standing.
The oppressor man
Still grand-standing.
So Bungoman say:
'You want to kill Ital,
make it swift
because this dread
is not adrift'.
Rastafari!
Rastafari!
Jesus is not dead.
Rastafari!
Rastafari!
Jesus is a Dread,
Dread!
Dread!
I can see Babylon burning.
I can see Babylon turning,
Turning red,
Red!
Red!
Red!
poem by Buxton Shippy
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Dead Father
when your fathers dead
your heart fills with dread
my father died in the year 2005
when he was alive my life was filled with pride
somtimes i just wish i could go back in time
go back and save his life
when i heard the news that he was gone
all i could say is no hes too young
he was 39 years old
he still had about 60 more to go
my heart bleeds knowing were apart
but at least i know hes still in my heart
my heart filled with dread
when i found out my father was dead
poem by Jean Pullman
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Roots
Roots natty roots
Dread binghi dread
I and I are the roots
Some are the dry wood
Fe catch up the fire
Whoa, lo ok at that
They need some dry wood
To cook up the raw food
Whoa, look at that
I got to survive
Inna dis man maniac downpression
Got to survive
In iration, yeah
Roots natty roots
Dread binghi dread
Remember that I and I are the roots
Some are wolf
Inna sheeps clothing
Whoa, look at that
Many are called
But only a few are chosen
Whoa, look at that
Nothing that dividers can do
Cant seperate us from our father
Whoa, look at that
You see, blood is thicker than water
Whoa, look at that
Got to survive
Inna disyah ghetto, yeah
Roots natty roots
Dread binghi dread
Remember that I and I are the roots
Roots natty roots
Dread binghi dread
Whoa, I and I are the roots
Some are leaves
While some are branches
But remember I and I are the roots
Some are dry wood
Fe catch up the fire
Whoa, look at that
Got to survive
Inna dis man maniac downpression
Got to survive
In iration
Roots natty roots
Dread binghi dread
Hey, I and I are the roots
Ooh we, roots natty roots
Dread binghi dread
Oh yeah, I and I are the roots
song performed by by Bob Marley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Aching of Old Age
THE ACHING OF OLD AGE
The aching of old age
Knows it will not go away
It is part of the life now
Aching is like breathing always here
Whether attended to or not
The aching of old age
Will not go away
It will accompany one all the way to the grave
Perhaps this is what it is ultimately for
To teach us that which we dreaded all these years
Has its most real meaning only in
Ending the aching forever.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Death hurts not the body.
There is meaning if I dread depth.
There is meaning if I dread beasts.
There is risk of hurts to the body.
Must I dread death that leaves no hurts?
29.06.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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This Aching Heart
This aching heart shall ache no more
For you, its ached too long
I told you my feelings clean cut and raw
And my pain you just prolong
This aching heart shall love no more
It will not ever love another
At all my efforts you just guffaw
Yet, still I love you like no other
This aching heart shall beat no more
For you, its beat too long
This is the day that I no longer abhore
myself, and learn to be strong
This aching heart shall ache no more
For my heart you are no longer in
This achign heart shall ache no more
I have a new life to begin
poem by Lucy Heart
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Strange Eels' Orchid
This indigo night
wildest orchids
Strange twisting eels
we becumming
aquamarine
moonlit burgundy
we twist swim be
'tween such twins
we braid bathe conducting
this terrific beloved
spice breath pulse
thunders beating
we grasp gasp
slick electricity
fumble tumble
lost long searching
explore plunge spin entangling
depths of breath
thunder pulse wonder
we exchanging
we are sharing
we are melding
the current our pulsings
prayer beads muffle
seep sweetest of sweat
unashamedly so the lovely
electro magnetic
magnificent magentic
explode rapture
dissolve
We are swimming
Airborne mine Love
heavens below
crying mortals wallow
fantastic flow for follow
Randy Resh 2011
poem by Randy Resh
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A Long Time From Now
I make no excuses
for the love I have for my wife.
She is the nearest thing to heaven
that I have in my life.
I dread to think of the time
when she will no longer be there,
and wonder if I will be able to cope
with the longing and despair.
Hopefully it will be
a long, long time from now.
6 March 2008
poem by David Harris
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Spider
Your grip upon the silken cord grows weak
you pluck them something now like zither strings
It must be strange with no employ of wings
to hang between the moon and quiet lake.
Time and times again we're warned of the web
the livid maw that lurks at the wild center
I conclude that what we love we dread
and what we dread we love and long to enter.
I open duty's circle with a kiss
and on the prison of the sky turn key
to show the vistas vast of nothingness
that, after all, our hearts long most to see
and seizing in a spider's dark caress
you apprehend, at last, your fantasy.
poem by Morgan Michaels
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The Garden of Sin
I know the garden-close of sin,
The cloying fruits, the noxious flowers,
I long have roamed the walks and bowers,
Desiring what no man shall win:
A secret place to shelter in,
When soon or late the angry powers
Come down to seek the wretch who cowers,
Expecting judgment to begin.
The pleasure long has passed away
From flowers and fruit, each hour I dread
My doom will find me where I lie.
I dare not go, I dare not stay.
Without the walks, my hope is dead,
Within them, I myself must die.
poem by Robert Fuller Murray
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Sonnet: The Accursed
Accursed are those who play with innocent lives;
Accursed are those who bring ruin on earth;
Accursed are those by whom progress nose-dives;
Accursed are those who cut life’s-thread and breath.
Accursed are those who bring the country down;
Accursed are those betraying motherland;
Accursed are those who kith and kin disown;
Accursed are those who have a traitor’s hand.
Accursed are the unpatriotic souls;
Accursed are bureaucrats who are corrupt;
Accursed are those who use/ misuse loopholes;
Accursed are those who good things interrupt.
Accursed are persons who don’t love their land;
Accursed are those men who need reprimand.
6-18-2001
poem by John Celes
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Down in the dark
Down in the dark, it’s all in my head,
The pain the sorrow, all of the dread,
I want it to leave, but it wants to stay,
I try and I try, but he won’t go away,
There by day, there at night,
Saying the things, that fills me with fright,
I’m down in the dark, it fills my head,
The pain the sorrow, all of the dread,
He’s always around, lurking inside,
Watching; waiting, my hands are tied,
In my head, always near,
In my thoughts, building the fear,
Down in the dark, filling my head,
The pain the sorrow, all of the dread,
The pain; it grows, bursting within,
The dark; he’s back, with his terror filled grin,
“I’ll help”; he says, talking to me,
“I know what to do, just come and see, ”
Down in the dark, it filled my head,
The pain the sorrow, all of the dread,
My thoughts are violent, with sorrow in my chest,
I just close my eyes, and hope for the best,
He tells me good job, I’ll find the light,
But my life is ending, with the chill of the night.,
Dead in the dark, lost in my head,
No more pain or sorrow, not even dread….,
poem by Jacob Hill
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There Was A Poem Long Ago
THERE WAS A POEM LONG AGO
There was a poem long ago
A poem of youth and hope
Now there are other poems
Poems of age and sorrow.
There was a poem once
Of love – and happiness in love
Now there is a poem of lovelessness
And sadness.
There was a poem once
Of the long and distant open road
Now there is a poem of the dead end.
There was a poem once
That believed in Poetry
Now there is a poem that knows
Even the most beautiful worlds of words
End in dust
There was a poem once – long ago.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Finger Trips
finger tips
massage caress
circuitous
nips
eager edges rounding
reaching aching
outer lips
master baits
feline fetish fish
dragonfly dancing
on feather-landing
gasping, grasping
grips
Satiate
stroke tip slips
under cover cooing, crying
lower stiff upper lip;
tickling trickling
deluge drenching
flowing feline Frenching-kiss
Heart skip bliss
blowing bouncing boundless backflips,
serpentine successive
stiletto staccato licks
fumbling frenetic fantastic
for-raging
finger trips
copyright R. Resh 2007
poem by Randy Resh
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