Narcissus
A boy, Narcissus long ago lived in Greece
Perfect of body, dark hair fine as fleece
The face of an angel, no one could deny
Fair skin, large eyes as blue as the sky
A nymph for a mother, his father a god
Who ruled over all rivers, narrow 'n broad
Narcissus, loved by Apollo the most handsome of men
Would ascend Mount Olympus, to sojourn now 'n then
He dined with Zeus and with gods great and small
As demigods might at an extravagant Grand Ball
One day Narcissus sat in repose by a clear water pond
Looked down at his image and at once grew fond
Of the beauty neath him so at once he did fall
In love with himself, to the exclusion of all
Eyes only for self, this youth did briefly enjoy
But soon grew deluded and sad lonely boy
He faded, withered and would soon die
He lay on his back gazing up at the sky
Saw the form of Apollo looking down from above
A smile on his face, radiating warmth and pure love
Narcissus left his body, his spirit did rise,
No more burdened by beauty, he saw with new-eyes
Looked down at the earth so far below
Saw where he once lay, a flower did grow
A flower devoid of vanity, stately and sound
Blooming, seeding, spreading, soon to be found
By all who love beauty that speaks to one’s heart
Narcissus!
You're now of Earth’s landscape, no longer apart
poem by Ray Lucero
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The Disciple
When Narcissus died the pool of his pleasure changed from a cup of
sweet waters into a cup of salt tears, and the Oreads came weeping
through the woodland that they might sing to the pool and give it
comfort.
And when they saw that the pool had changed from a cup of sweet
waters into a cup of salt tears, they loosened the green tresses of
their hair and cried to the pool and said, 'We do not wonder that
you should mourn in this manner for Narcissus, so beautiful was
he.'
'But was Narcissus beautiful?' said the pool.
'Who should know that better than you?' answered the Oreads. 'Us
did he ever pass by, but you he sought for, and would lie on your
banks and look down at you, and in the mirror of your waters he
would mirror his own beauty.'
And the pool answered, 'But I loved Narcissus because, as he lay on
my banks and looked down at me, in the mirror of his eyes I saw
ever my own beauty mirrored.'
poem by Oscar Wilde
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Balade
(from the French of Wenceslas, Duke of Brabant and Luxembourg, who died in 1384.)
I cannot tell, of twain beneath this bond,
Which one in grief the other goes beyond,---
Narcissus, who to end the pain he bore
Died of the love that could not help him more;
Or I, that pine because I cannot see
The lady who is queen and love to me.
Nay--for Narcissus, in the forest pond
Seeing his image, made entreaty fond,
'Beloved, comfort on my longing pour':
So for a while he soothed his passion sore;
So cannot I, for all too far is she---
The lady who is queen and love to me.
But since that I have Love's true colours donned,
I in his service will not now despond,
For in extremes Love yet can all restore:
So till her beauty walks the world no more
All day remembered in my hope shall be
The lady who is queen and love to me.
poem by Sir Henry Newbolt
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On a great coxcomb
(recovering from an Indisposition)
Narcissus (as Ovid informs us) expir'd,
Consum'd by the flames his own beauty had fir'd;
But N---o (who like him is charm'd with his face,
And sighs for his other fair-self in the glass)
Loves to greater excess than Narcissus---for why?
He loves himself too much to let himself die.
poem by Ann Eliza Bleecker from The Posthumous Works of Ann Eliza Bleecker
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Narcissus
Since the great, glad greeting of dawn from the eastern hills
Triumphant ran with a shout to the woods below,
With the song in his ears of the clearly clamoring rills
He has lain, like a man of snow,
Slender and straight as the joyous immortals are made,
Born of woman, but born with the grace of a god.
Unheeded airs, caressingly cool, have played
With his hair, and the nymphs have trod
Close to his side, and have kissed him, waiting to flee—
But Narcissus, what recketh he?
In the pool where the lithe fish flashes and slips
From his covert to snap at the careless, fluttering flies,
Narcissus has seen the curve of his drooping lips,
And, like mirrored miniature heavens, his shining eyes.
And a flush like a dew-dipped rose has dyed the pool,
He has laid his cheek to the ripples cool;
Brow touches brow, lips lips, and his eyes of violet roam
Down through the crystal depths. In the darkening dome
The stars shine forth from their faint, far ways,
Trimming their lamps; and, from the purple haze,
The moon, cloud-veiled, her circle just complete,
Wan as a travail-spent mother, plants her feet
On the carpeted hills, and fearful of change
Seeks her reflected face in the sea’s southward range—
But Narcissus, what recketh he?
Narcissus, Narcissus, where is thy boyish bloom,
Thy long, slim form that lay beside the pool,
And the lips cold smiling to their smiling image cool?
Narcissus!
Only a strange, indefinite perfume,
And a dim white spot in the night when soft airs blow;
A flower, bending, bending low
Its petals and its yellow heart to where the waters flow;
Its scent the winds have borne
Through the pearl-gray east to the arms of morn,
To faint and to die in the wakening light—
But of time’s swift flight, the dawn, and the noon, and the night,
The sun’s gold glory, the moon’s white mystery,
Narcissus, what recketh he?
poem by Guy Wetmore Carryl from The Garden of Years and Other Poems (1896)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Perfect Flower
growing out of the ground
digging deep and far
topped with beauty
emmitting the fragrance of love
brittle through the body
strong in the roots
but thats all that matters
for that keeps them going
shining its beauty
letting everyone see it
all the time
spreading its sweet smell
with everyone that comes in contact
making them happy
sorting through the flowers
searching for the only one
that can fill the hole
that he has dug
he sees it in his sight
the sweet aroma
the loving vibe
the joy it gives his heart
the beauty
the perfect flower
gently grasping it
choosing it for his taking
only a few faults show
but the beauty overshadows the faults
in his eyes nothing's better
noone could ever replace her
with this flower his hole is full
it's the perfect fit
giving this flower
radiating with its majestic beauty
to his one true love
the perfect flower to the perfect love
you're all i want
all I've ever dreamed of
and in this perfect flower
our love will live on
poem by Joshua Norton
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Sonnet XXXVII: O Why Doth Delia
O why doth Delia credit so her glass,
Gazing her beauty deign'd her by the skies,
And doth not rather look on him (alas)
Whose state best shows the force of murd'ring eyes?
The broken tops of lofty trees declare
The fury of a mercy-wanting storm;
And of what force your wounding graces are,
Upon my self you best may find the form.
Then leave your glass, and gaze your self on me,
That Mirror shows what power is in your face;
To view your form too much may danger be:
Narcissus chang'd t'a flower in such a case.
And you are chang'd, but not t'a Hyacint;
I fear your eye hath turn'd your heart to flint.
poem by Samuel Daniel
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Narcissus
I met this Narcissus one night
in a party tendered by
this Endymion
and there are Adonises
meeting us in smiles and
masculine grace,
and they all speak of beauty
and how these flesh
that attract must be preserved
and rejuvenated
the mirrors in the room
rejoice
they look at their faces
and they all mutually admire
each
then i stop to ask them
why can't they love the other
the lonely and the challenged ones
of this society?
they look inside their eyes
and feel the love they all have
for themselves
the beautiful faces that only them
their eyes can love
this is what i call real ugliness.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Caught who Court Death
Without the blessing of the Gods
with Death you wed.
Yet suicide remains at odds
with those who fear to greet the sods,
who Heaven's gates slam on the dead.
The dead anticipated not,
wait, arms outspread.
Fell leaves their souls which, half-forgot,
skirl, skittles in windy melting pot.
Paradise keeps tabs on age.
Narcissus, dead,
must wait in turn Who turns the page.
No joys, except that in his rage
he'll [s]wallow, outrage his own cage.
If of his face he took much heed,
unless he fed
in fount of Youth, to drown, what need?
On half-life echo, fippled reed,
why haste with such ill gotten speed,
last words repeating? Thus I plead,
Echo swift sped
tell me, beneath the tumbleweed,
art dove or parrot pedigreed?
You, ever lazy, somehow dare
his words to shred, -
Narcissus love, his fretful prayer,
to offer up he did not care.
Death valley sees him stray, despair,
Narcissus dead.
Echo, alive, plays on the air.
The self-same song unites them there,
they would have made a happy pair!
poem by Raymond Radiguet, translated by Jonathan Robin
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The mirror
what wonder you give, where everybody, looks at you with
a very smiling beauty, a feeling of something, where
every one have never experience being one in your
dream of ecstasy
you have though us to looks young, dazzling charm, where
every hearts be calmed, you always play like an angel, who
brings us to the wonderland
telling the truth is what you want, even an ugly duckling you
turn into handsome one, in your might, the kingdom becomes
lonely. such alluring power you posses, comes to envy
where even death you deceive, life it gives you preserve, and
turned terrible happening into a happy one, in every home you
are there sheltering their faces as it gone, your the magic
where everybody wants, in the land we fondly called
Annabel Lee
life is a mirror, where we wanted too, of the Narcissus's we all
knew, doubt no one for in our faces, never changes, though
each one, wants to be pieces
if only we knew, even ugly faces we want to be pretty, at home
we wanted to be, little mind always thing of easy, just to lure
others that we are better than thee
the tale is ready to unlock the secret of majestic beauty, for
a thousand years Narcissus is lock in the mirror he will be free,
now try your luck in the mirror you see and see what happen
to your whole family.... be aware!
poem by Antonio Liao
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I have had my say
I have had my say
About sex and men
I have said it in many ways
And now is the time
To put my pen
In the service of
Romanic love to win,
To speak of matters
Of the soul if such a thing there be
To compare him to the beauty of snow
That blows in from across the sea
To romance you as I would has you
To romance the likes of me
To speak of the beauty of the male form
To take up arm with my pen
And squeeze out the beauty
As poetry was meant to be.
O my love, O my dear
Let me whisper sweet thing in your ear
I love you dear as I love you dearly
Till the 19th of never comes around
Till the time that the divine
Shall come to conquer me.
You are to me as the mption is to the sea.
You are to me as light is to heat
And I burns to be found in your arms
And beside you as you sleep
For you are to me the beauties
That weeps to behold your form
Such tears of joy as joy was born
Narcissus was a beauty boy
And Ganymede the same
And Hercules loved many boys
So the Greeks did say.
poem by David E. Patton
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The Clouds Of Narcissus
the clouds of narcissus pass by today
along a clear pond by the side of a rice paddy
they stop to get a good glimpse of their faces and bodies
cottony white, shades of blue, pluffy, and soft
they stop and take a longer gaze, admiring every
beauty of its hands and fingers, a longer time
an island of grass some reeds and dry leaves
get curious about what is happening why the clouds
stop and made a longer stare over the clear reflection
of their bodies on the little pond. They talk. They are curious.
and then the clouds finally get done with what is usual.
they left. Slowly sail away from what they are seeing lovingly.
Nothing happens since then. They own no one.No one owns them.
They leave. They do not know how to love. Neither are they loved.
They are gone. The island of grass is silent. The reeds hush.
And the pond has become murky.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Pool
a pool lies at the foot of a hill
there is a bush of mushing green
beside a rotten tree are mushrooms
birds drink here and then sing
a crystal pool where Narcissus
rests and stays for a while
at the side of the bank are white stones
a frog licks a fly
drinking upon a dropp of sperm
Narcissus is sleeping
soundly upon a grass
under a tree
it is windy.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Striking Beauty
Striking beauty.
Skin so fair.
Lucious long black hair.
Big brown eyes right through me stare.
Small in stature.
Large in toughness that can fracture.
Perfect features I stare in rapture.
I cannot help but look at you.
Your perfect beauty is so true.
No need for make up, you're divine.
No need to ruin what is fine.
On your perfect proportins my eyes do dine.
The sight of you is such a crime.
The hearts you break,
with the sexiest smile known to date.
No other compares to you.
You're the pinnacle of Gods greatest achievements.
No earrthly man could hold such plans.
Most of all you're modest too.
That's why I am so in love with you.
poem by Michael McParland
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The Soul
the beauty of the day
washes my troubles away
seeing the sun up above
and the sky clear blue
always' reminds me of you'
the smile on your face
radiating the beauty within
and the depth in your eyes
just pulling me, like a rip current..
deeper and deeper i go
until i reach your very soul.
then your soul absorbs my entireity
shoots me out and sets me free.
sets me free to see all the
beauty that you have inside
a beauty which i can't deny.
there is nothing in this world
with which your beauty to compare
now that i found you i will not share.
you have taught my soul to fly
of that there is no lie.
now i am high above the ground
my heart hears all the sounds.
the sound of broken hearts, and lost souls
and tears that fall to the floor.
never to be heard evermore.
for teardrops dry up like the rain
and you lose all your pain.
because of you i have found
the beauty of a soul.
and in love you lose control.
poem by Louis Rams
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Beautiful Woman!
Beautiful like fresh flower,
Beautiful with rainbows in eyes,
Beautiful with shyness and smile,
beautiful woman!
Beautiful are the star like eyes
Deeper than deepest ocean,
Ocean of feelings and love,
Beautiful is that motherly heart!
Beautiful woman thy beauty is thy compassion,
Thy beauty is in patience and knowledge,
Thy beauty lies in flowerless lips with precious smile,
Beautiful woman, most abstract beauty,
Not that beauty felt by eyes
Nor that skin or hair,
Not that grace or style, beautiful woman,
you are the beauty!
Beautiful woman!
thy beauty shines
Moon in star studded sky,
Thy beauty flashes with every turn of your neck to the call of child,
like plant swing with
perfumed flower in the garden
When that beauty of heart beautifully expressed!
Where her beauty lies,
Is it in her body or mind,
Or is it in her heart soft and kind?
Who wants to get stick or bind,
That's why women race fast leaving wondering men behind!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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Love
Laying across mortal plains
I pray to know love on a pedestal of immortals
Love without pain is seldom love
A rose without thorn is hardly a rose
The eyes that dissect a soul's beauty
The arm that hugs the runaway kid
The tears of a mother, push, arrrrggghhh, out!
The broken ceramic called heart
The amnesia of a hurt memory
The friend that shows you in a mirror, a nobler version of you
A face dried
A mouth fed
A heart shared
The death of reason
The absence of logic
The funeral of Narcissus and Schadenfreude
A giving gift
A blessed blessing
In the face of extinction, unconditional
A walk in the park, a dance in the rain, a giggle in the mouth
Skipped beats, wet palms, racing pulse....young love.
I love you, I miss you, I want you, I need you...the love language.
Eye contact, heart contact, hand contact, lip contact, skin...
The moment best described as:
'Where heaven reaches land and time is left to float away'
The weight of time is shoulder-placed
Two become one and burden displaced
A cocktail of hurt and/ or forgiveness is served
The ship of love sinks or floats
...God is Love
The murder of the lover by the loved
The birth of the loved by the lover
The rejection of the father by the son
A lifetime of never letting go
A gentle thunder, a thunderous whisper...
...I love you.
poem by Jenim Dibie
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My Beauty
There’s are days when you just wanna feel like a beauty in everyone’s eyes. But there’s always a butt head to make you feel less then you are I believe if you think or know you are then you are. It’s only what you make of it. There are times when I don’t feel beauty at but I think of what I always told myself. “My beauty is not just a pretty face. The beauty I have is a brand new sent of peace. My beauty is lovely peace sense of laughing out loud. My beauty is like an oak wooden chair that my daddyand I love to sit and think in. My beauty is a graceful smile I give her everyday.
My beauty I have is a great sense of style that I have to show the world. My beauty is my fragrant smell of lavender on my skin and hair. Beauty that I want is a 5 star hotel that someday I will stay in when I’m famous. Beauty is my toned color of the skin on my body. My beauty slowly surely of love i feel for you.
Beauty is my sleek smooth skin of my true beauty is deep within me. Now I know the sign of beauty I was bless with.
poem by Evevona Plummer
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Also the inside
You are the only beauty in the world
You are an angel from heaven
But what people don't see what I see is that...
You are a smart girl
with a great humor
You have a great personality
You are fun to be around with
You don't only have outer beauty
But you have inner beauty as well
It is true your smile is amazing
Your hair shines gracefully
Your body is perfect
And your eyes are sparkling diamonds
But with that plus your inner beauty
You shine brighter than any star
Now do you see why I love you
poem by Reeves Nesmith
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Funmilola
SHE IS SO BEAUTIFUL THAT YOU WILL WANT TO KEEP LOOKING AT HER, HER SMILE BRING SMILE TO EVERY LIPS.HER EYES WONT EVER MAKE HER WANT TO LIE.HER BEAUTY IS LIKE A ROSE IN FULL BLOOM, SHE IS SO BEAUTIFUL THAT WHEN OUR CREATOR THOUGHT OF BEAUTY HE SAW ONLY HER.SHE IS WONDERFULY MADE, GOD MADE HER SMILE OF THE SUNSHINE, AND HE MAOLDED HER HEART OF PURE GOLD, IN HER EYES HE PLACED BRIGHT SHINING STARS, IN HER CHEEKS FAIR ROSE YOU SEE.SHE IS SO BEAUTIFUL THAT IF A THOUSAND PAINTER WORK FOR A MILLION YEARS THEY COULD NOT CREATE A WORK OF ART AS BEAUTIFUL AS HER.SHE IS AS BEAUTIFUL AS VIRGIN SAND, SHE IS AS BEAUTIFUL AS RAINBOW FULL OF COLOURS, SHE IS AS BEAUTIFUL AS STARS FILLED THE SKY, SHE IS AS BEAUTIFUL AS BLOOMING FLOWER.OH BEAUTIFUL HER NAME WAS CALLED, SHE IS SO BEAUTIFUL, SHE SPEAK OF BEAUTY, SHE SLEEP IN BEAUTY, , SHE WALK IN BEAUTY, SHE LIVE IN BEAUTY.SHE IS SO BEAUTIFUL THAT THEIR IS NO FLOWER THAT CAN BE COMPARED TO HER BEAUTY, SHE IS REINCANATION OF AN ANGEL, FAIREST OF ALL, GODESS OF BEAUTIES, EXQUISITE BEAUTY LIKE SUNSHINE.
poem by Tijani Adebowale Destiny
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Like an eagle resting...
Like an eagle resting on the yellow shape of the silent sun
I Wait impatiently the dingles of the bells
Crying conscience of steady moons, at angels sunset
Breathless death, with his narcissus eyes
Adore by the altars, the looted vanity of the beauty of sleep
My body swallows, contradict by life.
Of these moments' blow by the winds,
where agony stand, where dark falls.
Echo flow away the inner life of mine
Clear my body of sacred breath, after life echoes
My heart bleeds, naked my body rest.
Symbol of reasons & pride, of visions arguing at night fall.
Chasing endless monsters hide by alternate consciences of.
tears and rains, rains and tears.
To hear, to touch, immaculate past, lays.
wait to remember.
Flocks of mermaid, murmurs at the imminent sunset,
where day has no rest.
Morning melody,
night tragedy.
Dazzles are my eyes, like a silent good-bye.
Waves
I remain seats in these empty scripts.
There are not bridges, there are not ways.
For myself, to escape.
poem by Luca Menin
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