When I Arrive There.....
even if i have not seen your scars
they will always be there
you do not have to say a story
how each scar was once a wound with all its pains
our instinct is always to hide them
for who wants to be reminded of those stabbing nights?
when i arrive there it will be another full moon
the sea will be as calm as silk and silver
do not serve upon that tray some pieces of broken dreams
there will be a proper time for all of them
it will be good if we deviate sometimes on those memories
of laughter and child-like innocence
when we were young climbing upon those trees
gathering the ripe fruits and then eating all of them
luscious pulp, sweet juices upon our tongues
freed for the worries of old, dead anxieties, alive on some hopes.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Because Youre Young
Psychodelicate girl - come out to play
Little metal faced-boy - dont stay away
Theyre so war-torn and resigned she cant talk any
More
What are they trying to prove?
What would they like to find?
Its love back to front and no sides - like I say
These pieces are broken - like I say
These pieces are broken
Hope Im wrong but I know
Because youre young - youll meet a stranger some night
Because youre young - what could be nicer for you and it makes me sad
So Ill dance my life away
A million dreams, a million scars
He punishes hard - was loving her such a crime
She took back everything she said
Left him nearly out of his mind
Theyre people I know - people I love
They seem so unhappy - dead or alive
Its love back to front and no sides - like I say
These pieces are broken - like I say
These pieces are broken
Hope Im wrong but I know
Because youre young - youll meet a stranger some night
Because youre young - what could be nicer for you and it Ill make me sad
So Ill dance my life away
A million dreams, a million scars
A million
A million scars
A million
A million dreams
A million
A million
A million
A million
A million
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What a World
What kind of world is this
This world I call my own
Were even a young child
Is afraid of going home
A world in which a man
Will take innocence from a child
Now their lives are lived in fear
The memories going wild
What kind of world is this
This world I call my own
Where you'll only be accepted
If your a f***ing clone
A world so full of s***
A world so full of lies
Can you spot the liars?
Can you see it in their eyes?
A world where self expression
Is pushed and made to fall
Despised and destroyed
To boost the egos of them all
A world where daddys hit
A world where mommys scream
Both killing their children
Killing their hopes killing their dreams
A world that makes you crazy
But does that make me insane?
A world thats without morals
A world thats without shame
A world that seems so dark
A world that seems so cold
A world that kills the young
A world that scars the old
A world that kills our hopes
Shoots them out of the sky
A world that kills us all
And makes us want to die.
poem by Jocelynn Halbauer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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For Those Who Grieve
no one
no one can really stop you
from eating the bark of the tree
the thick skin of the
fruit
no one can tell you what should have
been proper
or better
you like the skin and you throw away
the fruit that could have
satisfied your
thirst and hunger
the bark has poisoned you
the moon has warned you too well
the worm is wriggling
its frail and elongated
body
you have no ears
your sense of smell so badly damaged
and now you
are dying
no one tells you that life is as sweet
as the ripe fruit of the tree
that luscious flesh that flowing
juice
your gaze is sharp as a knife
stabbing even the
sun
and you are always right
what you have been searching
that can satisfy your hunger and thirst
is not found on the fruit
not even in the tree
it is in the poisonous bark
that useless skin
that silly coat
definitely it is not even here
where we are all grieving
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Giggles, Laughter and Stabbing Stares
Giggles, laughter and stabbing stares,
It would kill them to be nice,
It would hurt them to be kind,
Giggles, laughter and stabbing stares,
The notes are being passed around,
They don’t see, no one cares,
Giggles, laughter and stabbing stares,
Tearing at all I’ve built up,
But it won’t work anymore,
Giggles, laughter and stabbing stares,
What they don’t know is,
I just don’t care,
Giggles, laughter and stabbing stares,
Every one is doing it,
But I just sit and laugh,
Giggles, laughter and stabbing stares,
It’s so funny they think I care,
They are stupid to think I do,
Giggles, laughter and stabbing stares,
I laugh and laugh
Because they don’t see that no one cares,
Giggles, laughter and stabbing stares…
Giggles, laughter and stabbing stares…
Giggles, laughter and stabbing stares…
poem by Bloodlover16 Loveblood
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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All Dead, All Dead
Memories, my memories
How long can you stay
To haunt my days
She came without a farthing
A babe without a name
So much ado about nothing
Is what shed try to say
So much ado my lover
So many games we played
Through every fleeted summer
Through every precious day
All dead all dead
All the dreams we had
And I wonder why I still live on
All dead all dead
And alone Im spared
My sweeter half instead
All dead
And gone
All dead...
All dead all dead
At the rainbows end
And still I hear her own sweet song
All dead all dead
Take me back again
You know my little friends
All dead
And gone
All dead and gone
Her ways are always with me
I wander all the while
But please you must forgive me
I am old but still a child
All dead all dead
But I should not grieve
In time it comes to everyone
All dead all dead
But in hope I breathe
Of course I dont believe
Youre dead
And gone
All dead
And gone
song performed by by Queen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Land Of Innocence
Nightfall in my childhood,
Memories of my future send
Their scent in my mind...
My life and my feelings now?
A knife through my heart,
Sins that torn apart
The once-innocent mind...
The moon’s glance falls over the
Garden of my childhood,
There, where beauty is still untainted,
When I was as fresh as the morning dew...
I remember those feelings so well,
I keep them hidden in a safe place,
Locked inside my heart!
I believed then in the snowy-egret nymph,
I thought she came to me at night,
And carried me above the water
Through the Danube Delta,
To see the secret lagoons
Covered up by weeping willows,
To see the black swans as they dance,
As they perform a sacred ritual of nature,
To see the pelicans as they sleep.
Gazing at the black egrets,
As the wind smoothes their soft feathers,
To see those black ballerinas
As they all reveal an unknown passion:
The passion for the night!
And my dreams were beautiful then,
My voice was clear and sweet,
My mind was innocent and true,
Not touched by the perverted hand of life...
And it’s true what the nymph said to me,
Looking in my eyes, singing softly to my ear:
“From cradle to coffin,
You shall dream,
You shall wish and hope!
But remember, innocence can never be lost,
You will always have it inside,
Take your memories, put them aside,
And you shall find it
Right there; innocence stays! ”
How can I break away from what I am now,
Who will take those tears away?
Was I punished for naivety? Or for innocence?
Yet the falling into the sinner
That I am today, was so mild...
The falling always comes
With the sweetest sensations!
I crave for another night of my childhood,
I crave for a journey back
In the land of living dreams,
The land of sweet torment,
Land of Innocence!
Memories keep on swinging back,
And they hit me with all of their great power...
The nymph looked upon me, every single night.
She once took my hand and placed it on my heart:
“Here, you shall look inside,
Here are your memories - pieces of life,
Here are your dreams – pieces of immortality,
Here is your energy and frenzy -
Pieces of your untamed soul,
Here is your innocence, and always will be,
You just have to look after it.”
The ballet on water was revealing itself
To my child eyes, to my mind...
A weeping willow was my shelter,
I saw the couples of swans,
As they gently, tenderly danced a waltz,
Gracefully, slowly...
I woke up the next morning, locking the secret inside.
The awakening from that beautiful dream,
Into the nightmare of today
Came with the biggest of pains:
Realizing what I am,
Realizing it will never be the same...
My heaven I feel as if it is lost,
My dreams, I feel I will never accomplish...
The awakening!
The falling!
The curse!
I crave for another night of my childhood,
I crave for a journey back
In the land of living dreams,
The land of sweet torment,
Land of Innocence!
I was dreaming every night,
I only had sincere smiles...
Now I cannot but fake them,
My nights are filled with bad dreams,
I fear someone has stole it away from me...
Can I still dream?
Should I dare to dream?
Should I dare to touch the innocence inside?
What if it’s not there anymore?
Nymph comeback to me again,
Only one more time...
Take me there,
To see the show that never ends,
Take me there,
To hear you sing to me again,
Take me there,
To be myself one more time...
Comeback snowy-egret nymph,
Un-fill my heart of regrets,
And fill it with dreams and child’s passions,
Un-do this course of adulthood,
Teach me how to find myself,
To find my own dreams!
I do not dare to dream anymore...
Silence all those
Hell-voices from my mind! ! !
The awakening!
The falling!
The course!
Dear white, frail nymph
Bring me only Innocence,
It is all: mystery, passion,
Dream, love...
But most importantly,
Innocence is Poetry!
Snowy-egret nymph,
I shall dream about you tonight...
Dawn in my childhood,
Memories of my past send
Their poetry in my mind...
poem by Elya Thorn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Little Pieces of Innocence
Little Pieces of Innocence
(0n watching my children sleep)
Sweet sleep, little pieces of innocence,
While dreams so serenely fair,
Fill their heads with joyous thoughts,
How gladly do I stand and stare,
Upon the gifts that love has brought.
No darkness spreads her sorrow here,
Sleep on dear children, rest, but know,
Your father watches with such delight,
This moment of truth, and with heart aglow,
And filled with love this night.
Those little pieces of innocence,
So serene, so full of grace,
Sweetest gifts that Heaven imparts,
Fondly shall I long embrace,
The innocence in their hearts.
Those little pieces of innocence,
Their youthful years so few,
Enjoy now as you grow,
Joys of innocence, pure and true,
That only children ever know.
The hour is fleeting, and morn is nigh,
Innocence so filled with truth,
Awake! enjoy your childhood years,
Before time sweeps away your youth,
And innocence disappears.
Never, never can I lose them,
No time or distance shall stake a claim,
Though saddness may overcome me,
My heart will stay the same,
And those little pieces of innocence will forever be.
By
Richard Netherland Cook
poem by Richard Netherland Cook
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To M.G. (Wherever She May Be)
Written by John Mellencamp
I was watching a movie the other night on T.V.
The actress reminded me of you
Her attitude, the way that she smiled
She was doin' a part girl, like you used to do
I do believe you played it better
If it wasn't better, it was just as strong
I would've called you up on the telephone that night
But somehow girl, it'd been all wrong
I heard you married a stranger
In a horse and carriage that was covered with gold
Well, you wanted to be different and still fit in
I wonder if you feel different at all now that you're older
Hope you didn't lose that innocent laughter
Oh, God I hope time didn't take that away
All those junior high nights underneath the front porch light
A good Catholic girl during the day
Chorus
Oh, oh just watching the time grow
Old enough to know that these memories can't hurt a thing
Oh, oh just watching the time grow
If I saw you today, girl I wouldn't even know ya
Well I know it wasn't that big of a love affair
But boy, it sure seemed like one back then
When I parlay the memories into their proper places
I can see now we were no more than friends
Ooh your kisses sure tasted sweet
But I guess any kiss tastes sweet at fifteen
I just hope your touch is as warm to your ol' man
As it seemed like it was to me
Chorus
song performed by by John Mellencamp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Broken Fairy Tales
Heres a little story that I made up
So let's play make believe
In my castle on the cliff
I look out to sea
I just wanna have some fun
I just wanns have a good time
My party is nothing special
I just can't seem to realize
In my little fairy tale book
That's where my dreams wait for me
In my little own world
My prince waits for me
Broken dreams and fairy tales
One of those things I know so well
My fantasy dreams aren't real anymore
They're just Broken Fairy Tales
The wicked witch dreams in her sleep
She is making green elephants for tea
She cackles and cries
The witch is alive and she's ready for the sun
A white horse rides the waves
His mane is silver and snow
The moon which rides
Along the great tides
Is living his life to the full
In my little fairy tale book
That's where my dreams wait for me
In my little own world
My prince waits for me
Broken dreams and fairy tales
One of those things I know so well
My fantasy dreams aren't real anymore
They're just Broken Fairy Tales
Walking through my winter wonderland
The pine tree's sway, glistened with snow
As we walk along, we hear Santa say
'Welcome to the book of Broken Fairy Tales.'
Broken dreams and fairy tales
One of those things I know so well
My fantasy dreams aren't real anymore
They're just Broken Fairy Tales
As I wake from my dream I realise
That this is my broken fairy tale
poem by AnneMarie Hewlett
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Moonlight Memories
Sweet and sad
moon light always beads
the lace with memory leads
in my teens
my hormones oozed out
as I curl out
in the moon lit night
as I grew up
my dreams and loves
all blazed in the cool moon
my blood boiled blushed with delight
all the fantasies
all the sweetest memories
romantic webs knit across
the full moon sky with millions stars.
the nights were awake
when she peeped inside
I loved her in watery beds
silvery threads woven in filmy sheds
yet, she weighed upon my nights
when my mother breathed that night
just that night and nomore right
as she blazed at distant sight
I waited till midnight
to relieve motherless plight
at the courtyard bereft
of lovely mother's gait.
the shroud of moon light
now fell upon me tight
it choked me breathless
freezing attractions gayless
I still wonder at full moon nights
if my mother did come out of the grave
and did she engrave her love upon the pave
did the wintry dews make her shiver
and did she cry and groan in fever
the icy night evoked further
terrible sights of dead ones dear
Still, I could not bury the delicate mother
banishing the memories of full moon weather.
poem by Lalitha Iyer
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A Scar On My Heart
With every scar, behind it is a story
a scar on my heart, it speaks of heart ache
a true murder of my love, heart break.
scars heal-yes, but fade-they do not,
a reminder that will be with me,
that tells a story that pains for eternity.
i had gaven you my heart, a beautiful piece of me,
your decision...to puncture it, a deep hole i need to fill,
my tarnished heart-you gave back, inside hurting until.
poem by Careema Cooper
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A Child's Laughter
One of a kind this cheerful sound
A child's laughter wherever it's found
From the giggling of a baby in a playpen
To the laughter of a toddler again and again
A child's laughter can bring a smile
To one who hasn't done so in such a long while
I know because that one was me
Until my daughter's laugh set mine free
A child's laughter so gleeful and pure
An innocence adults miss for sure
Laughter that can bring back the past
And memories of a youth that flew by so fast
A child's laughter can bring out the best
Of most any man when he's depressed
Cause his spirit that's fall to soar
Until at last he laughs once more
poem by Harry J. Couchon Jr
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet: Nature Resurrects
The ‘curry-leaf’ tree bears berries again!
The black fruits look enticing, succulent;
And more will ripen with the August-rain,
A feast to the spotted-grey bird, God-sent.
The guava-trees are full of flow’rs and fruits!
They ripen fast each morn to squirrel’s squeak;
The landscape will have ripe fruits like a ‘Blitz, ’
Which many birds will then happily beak.
The rain can do such magic to the lands;
It resurrects the almost dead, dry trees;
Some fairies good are working with their wands!
The fauna seems as busy as the bees.
Thus, Nature sprinkles compassion on all!
Her heart melts to each creature’s plaintive call.
8-9-2002
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Let Go The Passion
memories come and go,
my rocking chair work out the flow.
Sweet fire keep the cold heart warm,
away from blurry past and the storm.
Sweet child she was, so,
crawling here and there and go.
I remember when settled in my arms,
that smile, ever full of charms.
Let go the passion, man,
this is not your track or way.
Let go the passion, man,
no rerun of times or replay.
Growing up so fast now,
spreading love by the vow.
Hatred didn't know this place,
that lies inside her with the grace.
A teenager now, full of hopes,
full of dreams beyond my scopes.
You became like her number one fan,
you're thirty and she's ninteen, man.
Let go the passion, man,
this is not your track or way.
Let go the passion, man,
no rerun of times or replay.
Looks like a taboo of some sort,
no touch, no smile of that sort.
The sleeping beauty that I missed,
is a full grown woman out of nest.
Her own house, her own man,
her own universe is on the span.
Same laughter still shine through,
despite the age, she really never grew.
Let go the passion, man,
this is not your track or way.
Let go the passion, man,
no rerun of times or replay.
Let go the passion man,
your hopes are not for today.
Let go the passion man,
your dreams, down should lay.
down, should lay...
poem by Taher Shemaly
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War...
war creates fighting that kills everyone...
war creates hate where love should be...
war creates tears that will never dry away...
war creates pain that wont go away...
war creates sadness that wont feel better...
war creates destruction that will take too long to fix...
war blinds us of what’s right or wrong...
war steals us of the right to be happy...
war creates gaps that keep us apart...
war creates a fire you cant put out...
war drops bombs on our hopes and dreams...
war creates children without a father, no one to tuck them in at night...
war makes it hard for a parent to say “everything will be alright” when then don’t even have anyone that they can say “good night”.
war scars a child's mind with things they cant erase...
war makes a good nights sleep a living hell...
war creates nightmares that are never-ending dreams and then, just screams
war creates guilt that eats you alive inside...
war makes you see things that make you scream inside...
war creates scars when all you've seen is blood and more...
war only leaves death when every body drops to the floor...
war creates silence after it ends, so how long till it starts again?
and when all the willing that will fight, die and say their last good night
the war will end, the living will mourn, all for peace but what was it all for? For all those people who died, just so now everyone alive, can do nothing to cope but cry...
Age 14
poem by Alexander SaPonte
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Shattered
Darkness enveloped me
Pain and darkness filled my heart
Deepened by emotions
Tormented from the very start.
Fear left unspoken
Shattered by betrayal
Innocence is broken.
Its all just broken.
Uncontrollabler anger
Promises of pain
Burning with such heartache
And still he reigns
Painful memories so deep
Traumatic price to pay
Leaving me hurt.
And left to bear the scars.
Sadness has engulfed me
Bitter to the end
Pieces of my innocence
Shattered by a friend.
poem by Amy Louise Kerswell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Kiwi
Fruit without a stone, its shiny
pulp is clear green. Inside, tiny
black microdot seeds. Skin
the color of khakiImagine
a shaggy brown-green pelt
that feels like felt.
It's oval, full-rounded, kind
of egg-shaped. The rind
comes off in strips
when peeled with the lips.
If ripe, full of juice,
melon-sweet, yet tart as goose-
berry almost. A translucent ring
of seed dots looks something
like a coin-slice of banana. Grown
in the tropics, some stone
fruits, overlarge, are queerly
formed. A slablike pit nearly
fills the mango. I
scrape the fibrous pulp off with my
teeth. That slick round ball
in avocado (fruit without juice) we call
alligator pear:
Plant this seedpit with care
on three toothpicks over a glass
of water. It can come to pass
in time, that you'll see
an entire avocado tree.
Some fruits have stones, some seeds.
Papaya's loaded with slimy black beads.
Some seem seedlesslike quince
(that makes your tastebuds wince.)
Persimmon will
be sour, astringent 'until
dead ripe,' they say. Behind
pomegranate's leathery rind,
is a sackful of moist rubies. Pear,
cantaloupe, grapefruit, guava keep their
seeds hidden, as do raspberry, strawberry,
pineapple. Plum, peach and cherry
we know as fruits with big
seedstones. And fig?
Its graininess is seed. Hard to believe
is prickly durian. It's custard
sweetand smells nasty.
But there's no fruit as tasty,
as odd, or as funny
none
as fresh-off-the-vine New Zea-
land kiwi.
poem by May Swenson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Harmony
when the guava tree
showed leaves
we waited for time
for it to give flowers
and then it came
we waited till it
bore fruits and then
the fruits ripened
we waited till all the
ripe ones fell to the
ground
then our hands picked
them all up
and we ate the juicy
sweet pulp and then
we spit out the seeds
to the ground
we swallowed what
fills our thirst and hunger
and the world
smiled
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What We Mean....
it is when you are too serious
that this land dies, that this sea dries,
try making things in a manner that gives you fun
learn the games
ride upon the wishes of the ordinary
enjoy the ride like a cowboy upon his red horse on the prairie
do not close the doors of possibilities that this world is
but one playground for all children
that we are after all the children
the results do not actually matter
it is the journey, the fun along the way
the picking of the flowers
the gathering of all the ripe fruits
that the trees have been giving for free
you have overworked yourself
and that is bad enough
try the power of laughter
forget the tough times for they can never be yours forever
look at the waves of the sea
they keep on playing the highs and downs and they arrive at nothing
have fun and then pass the fun for those who have not
reflected about this
the journey is too exciting
the scenes flash like one paradise to another
for we are the children of God
and He did never mean us to cry.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Vacation Galore
lying on a hammock
under a blue umbrella sky
between two coconut trees
sea breeze fanning my body
each sweet grape luscious to
my lips thinking of you
i swallow each
pulp
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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