At Night When You Are Fast Asleep
i do not care much if you do not care about what i do at night when i am alone in my study
(actually writing poetry)
all i need is only a little warmth from the silky, curly hair of my poodle
sleeping beside my bare feet contented with the touch of my toes.
the two of us, just the two of us,
against the rage of the cold, dark night
the light from a study lamp
mingling with the glare of the monitor
a miniature of life
an islet of my nocturnal universe.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
I'd Rather Have Habits Than Clothes
I'd Rather Have Habits Than Clothes,
For that's where my intellect shows.
And as for my hair,
Do you think I should care
To comb it at night with my toes?
I'd rather have ears than a nose,
I'd rather have fingers than toes,
But as for my hair:
I'm glad it's all there;
I'll be awfully sad when it goes.
I wish that my Room had a Floor;
I don't so much care for a Door,
But this walking around
Without touching the ground
Is getting to be quite a bore!
poem by Gelett Burgess
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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~Dark & Cozy Night~
my life's been broken
unraveled, undone
no more sun in my life
no more light in my dark
just night...
I like the night
it keeps me calm
it makes my problems go away
I like the night its always dark
no blinding light
just like my heart
the dark is understanding
unlike the judge full light
that's why I always prefer
the dark and cozy night
poem by No Reason To Care
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If you want to study writing, read Dickens. That's how to study writing, or Faulkner, or D.H. Lawrence, or John Keats. They can teach you everything you need to know about writing.
quote by Shelby Foote
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Song Beside A Sippy Cup
In the never truly ever
truly dark dark night, ever
blinds-zipped, slat-cut,
dark-parked light,
you (late) touch my toes
with your broad flat own
horny-nailed cold toes.
Clock-tock, wake-shock.
In the ever truly never
truly long long night, our
little snoring-snarling
wild-child mild-child
starling-darling wakes every
two, three (you-sleep) hours,
in the never truly ever
truly lawn brawn fawn dawn.
poem by Jenny Factor
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Take Me With You
I can't disguise the pounding of my heart
It beats so strong
It's in your eyes what can I say
They turn me on
I don't care where we go
I don't care what we do
I don't care pretty baby
Just take me with u
Come on and touch the place in me
That's calling out your name
We want each other oh so much
Why must we play this game?
Don't care where we go
I don't care what we do
I don't care pretty baby
Just take me with u
I don't care if we spend the night at your mansion
I don't care if we spend the night on the town
All I want is 2 spend the night together
All I want is 2 spend the night in your arms
To be around u is so-oh right
You're sheer perfection (thank u)
Drive me crazy
song performed by by Prince from Purple Rain
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I must study politics and war that my sons may have liberty to study mathematics and philosophy. My sons ought to study mathematics and philosophy, geography, natural history, naval architecture, navigation, commerce, and agriculture, in order to give their children a right to study painting, poetry, music, architecture, statuary, tapestry, and porcelain.
quote by John Adams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Take Me With U
I can't disguise the pounding of my heart
It beats so strong
It's in your eyes, what can I say
They turn me on
CHORUS:
I don't care where we go
I don't care what we do
I don't care pretty baby
Just take me with U
Come on and touch the place in me
That's calling out your name
We want each other oh so much
Why must we play this game?
Don't care where we go
I don't care what we do
I don't care pretty baby
Just take me with U
I don't care if we spend the night at your mansion
I don't care if we spend the night on the town
All I want is 2 spend the night 2gether
All I want is 2 spend the night in your arms
2 be around U is so-oh right
U're sheer perfection (Thank U)
Drive me crazy, drive me all night
Just don't break up the connection
CHORUS {x2}
Just take me with U
Won't U take me with U?
Honey, take me with U
song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Light Of The Night
Who says is the night dark?
En the night we have all the light
We see everything en our life
With our heart
And our soul
En the day, we count
The seconds
The minutes
The hours......
Waiting the night
Waiting to came back
To ourselves
To our heart
To our soul
Who says the night is dark?
En the night we see
The universe
The light of the universe
The life of the universe
En our sky
We feel we are one party of this universe unlimited
We feel we are a party of the unlimited
We feel unlimited....
Who says the night is dark?
En the night
We take trip en the world of the silence
We listen the nice music of the silence
A silence talking
Who says the night is dark?
En the night
We go inside the hearts
We go en the depth of the hearts
We take a long way en depth of the hearts
A long an illuminated way
We see every thing inside the hearts
Who says the night is dark?
Who says the night is dark?
poem by Rachi Tibar
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Solitude: An Ode
I.
How happy he, who free from care
The rage of courts, and noise of towns;
Contented breaths his native air,
In his own grounds.
II.
Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread,
Whose flocks supply him with attire,
Whose trees in summer yield him shade,
In winter fire.
III.
Blest! who can unconcern'dly find
Hours, days, and years slide swift away,
In health of body, peace of mind,
Quiet by day,
IV.
Sound sleep by night; study and ease
Together mix'd; sweet recreation,
And innocence, which most does please,
With meditation.
V.
Thus let me live, unheard, unknown;
Thus unlamented let me dye;
Steal from the world, and not a stone
Tell where I lye.
poem by Alexander Pope
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Behind the Scenes
The actor struts his little hour,
Between the limelight and the band;
The public feel the actor's power,
Yet nothing do they understand
Of all the touches here and there
That make or mar the actor's part,
They never see, beneath the glare,
The artist striving after art.
To them it seems a labour slight
Where nought of study intervenes;
You see it in another light
When once you've been behind the scenes.
For though the actor at his best
Is, like a poet, born not made,
He still must study with a zest
And practise hard to learn his trade.
So, whether on the actor's form
The stately robes of Hamlet sit,
Or as Macbeth he rave and storm,
Or plays burlesque to please the pit,
'Tis each and all a work of art,
That constant care and practice means --
The actor who creates a part
Has done his work behind the scenes.
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
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The Beautiful American Word, Sure
The beautiful American word, Sure,
As I have come into a room, and touch
The lamp's button, and the light blooms with such
Certainty where the darkness loomed before,
As I care for what I do not know, and care
Knowing for little she might not have been,
And for how little she would be unseen,
The intercourse of lives miraculous and dear.
Where the light is, and each thing clear,
separate from all others, standing in its place,
I drink the time and touch whatever's near,
And hope for day when the whole world has that face:
For what assures her present every year?
In dark accidents the mind's sufficient grace.
poem by Delmore Schwartz
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We Have Not Met Yet
as you read my poems
you imagine what my face would be
given said facts and thoughts like
the way i spend my nights writing
and facing the computer till twilight,
i must be thin, and since i have
lesser sleep, i must have dark
deep, sunken, almond eyes
like the insomniac's night,
my lips may have cracked
due to many coffee cups
giving liveliness to my lines,
my shoulders may have fallen,
due to extreme exhaustion,
my skin may have dried and
my hair may have been scattered
by the strong wind
like those poets who no longer
care for their health and hygiene.
i am sorry but you are wrong.
You have to see me to know me.
You have to touch my hand and
feel the warmth of my palms.
You have to touch my hair to
feel the softness of my soul.
i will that poet who orders plain
mineral water instead of beer.
I may wear a black coat but
there will be no white carnations
inside the pocket of my chest.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Death of Dusk
The sun resigns,
bleeds out the vestiges –
remnants of the day.
Exsanguination edges into twilight:
red-brown hangs;
upwards darkens:
blue-brown,
blue-black,
death-black,
disquiet – furtive,
like ghoul-ridden fog.
A sombre moon assumes its role,
gushing silver-white lymph upon the muted scape –
a prequel of supernatural undertones
to chill the scene,
ice the spine,
kill the brain –
we have unnerved the very firmament.
But now a shadow closing down the globe:
dinosaurian cloud shrouds the moon glaze,
claims the late hour –
declared in a dying crow caw.
I, the hidden owl
– nemesis of claustrophobic minds –
awake! for mammal flesh –
fresh, jerking out its warmth in dance of death.
Rock-still I perch in sculptured oneness
with my crooked night-tree,
emanating nocturnal allure.
Together we scowl
together we play the dark
upon the land and sky
and mind
while you lie as dead in your box.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
dark dark dark dark night dark dark dark dark night
dark dark dark dark night
dark dark dark dark night dark dark
dark dark dark dark night dark dark dark dark night
dark dark dark dark night dark dark
dark dark dark dark night
dark dark dark dark night dark dark dark dark night
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Gorbals
A lad from the Gorbals
Years ago from these streets I did grow
Rough and tumble every day
Life was hard in every way
Winters dark cold and long
But from these streets I belong
Sandstone building dark with suit
Gas light lit the neighbourhood
Glasgow’s dark and dingy streets
Football played and hide and seek
Lassies dancing curly hair
We had great fun and not a care
This was all so long ago
And places change as we all know
Sand blasted building nice and clean
This is not the place of my childhood dreams
Chellaston
21 04 2010
poem by Jim O'Donnell
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Schooling Relationship
you are the subject which i study
understanding and getting to know you psychologically
learning new ways to do right
ways to out do the wrong
you are the subject which i study
practicing and testing the goods and bads
you are the subject which i study
the time has come graduation is here
learn the subject by studing its psychology
understanding is the only way for success
now we move on to the next step
you are the subject which i study to major
as i take hold of your hand
guide you through rough times throughout this life
you are the subject which i study to major
as time goes by ticking away
i studied you all those days
i understand your past history life
your psychology means alot to me
mentally physically emotionally speaking
you are the subject which i study to major...
poem by Diara Armstead
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Beauty Seen, In A Raven's Wing...
The Snow Brings
Dark Beauty Seen
In A Raven’s Wing
Iridescent Sheen
Black Glistening …
… Like Night Dreams
Plumage Gleams
and Eyes Seems
Fathomless Schemes
Of Obsidian Beams …
… Or Eclipse Rings
and The Raven Preens
Its Dark Beauty Seen
Like A Wet-Jet Queen
Or Nocturnal King …
… Wakes from Sleeping
Lifting Pitch Wings
and Dark Beauty Seen
Into Sky-High Scene
and The Care Of The Supreme …
poem by MoonBee Canady
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Never is she shut #never is she shut
You are my Sun.
You are now set.
You brought me dawn
Everyday at ten.
You sent me dusk
Everyday at five.
Weekend two days,
You left me in dark.
You shone on me for brief,
But heavily, brightly
And deeply with warmth.
That referred warmth
Spread all the night.
I felt the shine of my Sun,
Off the dusk, at full night.
My night is brightly lit.
Now my sun is set.
Where is my dawn?
Where is my dusk?
Where is the sunny day?
Where is my beauty?
Who will there be to lit
My night-full day?
And dreaded night?
You be a Moon, now on.
Waxing and waning,
Be always on horizon
So that there comes
Once a while a full-moon,
To imbue me with life.
My day-less night
Is lit with Moonlight.
You be my stars, farther.
You twinkle and twinkle
At me high from horizon!
With your news, beckon!
With your heart, command!
I am in the bath of starlight.
My night-full day is lit.
My sun, though, is set,
No dark is there at night.
She is there as Moon.
She is there as Stars.
Though she is set as Sun.
I’m now a nocturnal.
She can never be set
Out of my heart and soul.
11.06.99
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on that sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
poem by Dylan Thomas
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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The Song Of Lucifuge Rofocale, He That Flees The Light
Run from the light
Run from the light
Into the arms of all embracing night.
Do not rage
Do not rage
Accept the dark, no more to age.
Do not fight it
Do not fight it
Night is calling, just invite it.
No light at end
No light at end
Darkness now, your only friend.
Forget your life
Forget the light
Don't go gentle
Run
Towards the dawning
Of
The NIGHT!
poem by Bob Eichen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bedtime Song
Who would you could find:
Maybe a month to monitor closely
your every sleepless night,
bring it down shutters and you do not mind
shining light in the dark.
Or sunlight at dawn to
only illuminate your sleeping room.
Turn and continue to sleep.
When you wake up, you see the light at the screen.
A small message that you are eagerly awaiting.
You did not come to understand:
And she has found that.
You read: SONG FOR GOOD NIGHT.
poem by Jankovic Zoran
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