Chasing The Shadow
Drowned in unclogged arteries:
thoughts.
I am going to release a swarm
of bees. It was your dark hour.
A father sits outside your body to collect the stings.
A restive finger
on a blue gun invites the ghosts
to witness a burial of a fractured faith.
Thieves were waiting in wings.
A silent intimacy becomes invisible.
Sit back and comb the house
before it catches fire.
The earth spins in your eyes when you
pay the debt of a river;
when we were kneading the mountain.
poem by Satish Verma
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Related quotes
River
Here is the river
And I am searching it
In the map that is
On the wall of my house
That is not there.
I do not know
The mountain is in between
The river and my house
That dressedup geography
And taking me from
Place to place.
I am on my own journey
While the sky is breaking
And I with the night dream
Passing passing and passing
The hard days with
Fire of the mountain
And water of the river.
Where is the river
That I am searching
To driveout troubles
Where I am
Here is the river
Wash your face eyes
Somebody is kind enough
To tell in my house.
I am not in my house
See.
And Where am I
And the sea is here
No river no mountain
Here is the river
If you find again
Inform me please
I am grateful then.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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I Knew You Were Waiting For Me
Like a warrior that fights
And wins the battle
I know the taste of victory
Though I went through some nights
Consumed by the shadows
I was crippled emotionally
Somehow I made it through the heartache
Yes I did, I escaped
I found my way out of the darkness,
Kept my faith (I know you did)
Kept my faith
When the river was deep I didnt falter
When the mountain was high I still believed
When the valley was low iit didnt stop me, no no
I knew you were waiting
I knew you were waiting for me
With and endless desire I kept on searching
Sure in time our eyes would meet
Like the bridge is on fire
The hurt is over, one touch and you set me free
No, I dont regret a single moment
No I dont looking back
When I think of all those disappointments
I just laugh (I know you do), I just laugh
When the river was deep I didnt falter
When the mountain was high I still believed
When the valley was low iit didnt stop me, no no
I knew you were waiting
I knew you were waiting for me
So we were drawn together through destiny
I know this love we share was meant to be
I knew you were waiting, knew you were waiting
I knew you were waiting, knew you were waiting for me
song performed by by George Michael
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dams On The Cuyahoga
Just west
of the Lake,
meanders
the burning river.
The river
in my dreams.
The river on fire.
The river
that oozes
rather than flows.
The river
in which
a person
does not drown
but decays.
And there
the river sits,
waiting for me
to come back home.
poem by Holden Solo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Knew You Were Waiting
(feat. Aretha Franklin)
Like a warrior that fights
And wins the battle
I know the taste of victory
Though i went through some nights
Consumed by the shadows
I was crippled emotionally
Somehow i made it through the heartache
Yes i did. I escaped.
I found my way out of the darkness
I kept my faith (i know you did), kept my faith
When the river was deep i didn't falter
When the mountain was high i still believed
When the valley was !ow it didn't stop me, no no
I knew you were waiting. I knew you were waiting for me
With an endless desire i kept on searching
Sure in time our eyes would meet
Like the bridge is on fire
The hurt is over, one touch and you set me free
I don't regret a single moment, no i don't looking hack
When i think of all those disappointments
I just laugh (i know you do), i just laugh
When the river was deep i didn't fairer
When the mountain was high i still believed
When the valley was low it didn't stop me
I knew you were waiting. I knew you were waiting for me
So we were drawn together through destiny
I know this love we snared was meant to be
I knew you were waiting, knew you were waiting
I knew you were waiting , knew you were waiting for me
song performed by by George Michael
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Invisible Strings
(ian hunter)
One, two, three
Well I woke up this morning - theres a girl in my bed.
How did she get there? was it something I said?
I dont understand it but somehow it seems
She visits me in invisible dreams.
Over and over I try to explain
How did that girl get into my veins?
Did somebody send her - was it my velvet wings?
And how does she touch my invisible strings?
Invisible strings - invisible strings
These are a few of my favorite things
Now its all over when the fat lady sings
Ill still be playing my invisible strings
Well maybe she dont have a world of her own
Maybe shes using me just like a phone
And sometimes shes cool and sometimes she stings
And Im all tangled up in invisible strings
Invisible strings - invisible strings
These are a few of my favorite things
When youre wearing black and Im wearing wings,
Well still be playing those invisible strings
Well she never leaves - Im never alone
I aint in the book but shes still calling home
I tried to lose her - watch the tv
But that womans always picking on me
Well, theres strings round my body, strings round my heart
Id like to know where the string-pulling starts
Id give anything to meet the angel who sends
Invisible ink to my invisible pen
Invisible strings - invisible strings
These are a few of my favorite things
When youre wearing black and Im wearing wings,
Well still be playing our invisible strings
Invisible strings - invisible strings
These are a few of my favorite things
Now its all over when the fat lady sings
Well still be playing our invisible strings
Invisible strings - invisible strings
Oh yeah
song performed by by Ian Hunter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Witness
I saw an ant devour sherman mountain.
Slip across the floor in the river of honey.
I saw the locust drinking from a fountain.
It smiled at me as I paid my money.
Chorus
Caus Im a witness, witness, see the writing on the wall.
Im a witness, witness, I say Ive seen it all.
Caus Im a witness, witness, Ive got all the proof.
Im a witness, witness, I swear to tell the truth.
I saw her buying in the face of fashion.
Wholl believe with her little white lies.
I saw her arrive on my bed of passion.
But I never saw a look of love in her eyes.
Chorus
Some days my eyes can see for miles and miles around.
Some nights my dreams just take me deep underground.
My minds a time machine, Im in the future and the past.
The past... scrape away...
(violin solo)
Chorus
Chorus
Witness, witness, witness
Witness, witness, witness
Witness, witness, witness
Witness, witness, witness
song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bees
Bees are messengers from up above:
Filled with goodness and with love.
Unlike wasps, they mean us no harm:
They are more friendly and have charm.
On fine, silvery wings, the bees take flight,
When the sun's warm rays are shining bright.
They collect up the pollen in their sacs,
Then, to their hives, they take it back.
They carry out their duties with a smile;
Their souls full of cheer all the while.
With keenness, they carry out their work;
Their responsibilities, they do not shirk.
Bees have such an important role to play:
We would be doomed if they died away.
Plants and flowers would cease to grow,
And supplies of foodstuffs would soon be low.
Of bees, there is no need for us to be scared;
About their work, they passionately do care.
If we leave these dedicated workers well alone,
Near to us humans, they will not dare to roam.
They will not sting us, unless they're provoked,
For them, using their sting is certainly no joke.
If a bee ever stings you, you may well cry,
But the poor old bee, well, it would then die.
Unlike wasps, bees are not considered pests,
Even though they are very similarly dressed.
Bees are really fabulous, bees are really brill:
A bee, you should never ever, on purpose, kill.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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On Silent Wings
(t. j. white, j. ralston)
Producer: trevor horn
Album: wildest dreams (96)
Special guest: sting
There was a time when I would have followed you
To the end of the earth
I was willing to share it all with you
The love, the hurt
Ive seen you when your dreams were falling in the dust
But I never stopped believing in you
I always thought our love was strong enough
One you could hold on to
You never see it coming
You just let it fly
On silent wings, silent wings
You cant hide what you you feel inside
And the fire has left your eyes
On silent wings
I see us in our dreams and were dancing
I can almost hear the song
But the prayers, they go unanswered
But we both know, were just hanging on
I feel ashamed, but Ill never know the reason why
The rug was pulled so gently from under my feet
I only know that something good has died
Between you and me, oh its just a memory
You never see it coming
You just go separate ways
On silent wings, silent wings
Theres no more promises to break
Or our love has slipped away
On silent wings
You never see it coming
But you know it has to end
On silent wings, silent wings
I will never be the same again
I feel the whisper of the wind
On silent wings
song performed by by Tina Turner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Earthen Odes Never Grow Old (another Ode to Earth)
I'm just a kid lookin up to sky
with hopeful dreams.
Wishes, I have but one;
with will and patience
it will someday come.
For now I am just sittin
waitin for contact,
whether it be human
other or beyond.
Oh to only be intimate
with the fullbodied moon;
transcendent phosphorous-flesh,
naked and dancing,
amongst the many turned on stars.
Staring out
open-infinite-night-sky
never feeling more down to Earth
never feeling more a downer than
when feeling down about the Earth
such self indulgent pollutant:
being so sad, feeling so hopeless,
when alive on this planet,
that has survived so much.
Oh Earth, do you know the dark secrets
of this seemingly late hour?
Earth, you are my life's longest lasting survivor!
Earth, you are my my rock!
tell me, oh Earth,
on the prophets' ticking clock
what are your thoughts?
Stardust life liquified into steady foundation
great gaseous mother birthing solid body form
oh earth,
you of all will be hardest to let go,
you are the full embodiment of all
I've come to love and know.
Thank you for the soft cool mud,
the sands of your shores,
the breeze off the sea, the mountain air,
all the trees, every bee
every moment of
atmospheric unpredictability
every season's
holiday nostalgia familiarity
for the flowers, the warblers
the vegetables, the penguin's smile, and the grain
moss, mushrooms, sea cucumbers and the coral
thank you for rosemary, sandalwood,
thank you for salt
thank you for pepper
the rice and the pot
thank you for the water and the steam
Oh yeah and Earth, thank you for your thyme.
Earth, you taught me starry intimacy
'neath the isolation of your skies.
Earth, I wave your torch proudly
in the burning blue of my eyes.
Upon what silent dawn shall crow the knells
of revelation carrion dinner bells?
- I once bore witness to a
UFO flash its rutilant green gloriole
over the nitid-neon city smog-nebula -skyline-
mystic pacific multidemensional worm holes
opening trinity's lost portal in the ocean?
I look up,
hope diamonds gleam over
the globe of gleeds and glaur.
poem by Gregory Allen Uhan
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Jane and Bullfinch Eggs
Those are Bullfinch's eggs
Jane said
pointing at
the 5 eggs
in a nest
hidden in a hedge
and as she pointed
you imagined
that some god
modelled all female fingers
on that before you
how the nail was set
so perfectly
on the finger's tip
the colour pinkish white
the skin almost blending in
we mustn't disturb
she added
or the mother bird
will fly away
and not return
oh right
you said
gazing at the eggs
once her finger
had been removed
from the hedge
you studied
the pale blue eggs
speckled there
and sensed her presence
near your cheek
the lavender
that she wore
the way her hair dark
coming to her shoulders
was tied back
from her face
some collect them
Jane said
and pierce the top
and bottom
and blow through the contents
and have them on display
do they?
you said
seeing the sad expression
she wore
why is that?
you asked
she stood back
from the hedgerow
and looking at you
with her dark eyes
said
because they must have
they have to collect
what is there
for all to see
they must just have
for themselves alone
the May sun
was shining warm
and she took your hand
in hers and walked
you on along the lane
the small stream running
by the lane's edge
her grey skirt
and white blouse
and white socks
giving her a plain look
but her eyes lit up
and she smiled again
and you wanted
at that moment
as she held your hand
for that hour
to be there forever
not to be lost
thinking you knew then
the depth of love
and not its loss
of that
and feeling sense
and not the cost.
poem by Terry Collett
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Opening Up To You
Opening up to you,
The night before,
red finger nails!
Dark finger nails!
White finger nails!
Blue finger nails!
To utter it out;
The thoughts of man,
The thoughts of woman,
The thoughts of a child! !
But, holding the torch and to touch you.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Two Men On Fire
The air of two men is alight,
The fire surrounds them and fights,
What do we gain from this?
It stings and shudders our blood,
The fire retires and is stolen,
Fierce winds dissolve its anger,
Minds attached always collect information.
The air of two men is afire,
The clothes possessed are an attack.
Two men are on fire, two men will bear
The time so rare, and the fierce winds collect
And more collect, to dissolve the hurt.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Teleman, viola concerto
We were three close
Friends
When we were young
We go to a river
At the back
Of our house
There is a big
Plank of driftwood
And we all ride
On it as though
It were a big
Boat and our
Hands are paddles
We sail
And we laugh
The place
Is off limits
For us children
In fact
Father says
Beware
A big crocodile
Lives there
And swallows
A child in whole
We did not take
Heed
We are the
Hardheaded
Children and this
Something
Traumatic
On that river
At the back of
The house
Where the
Big plank
Of wood which
We ride on
Carried us
All laughing
To the other
Side
Only the two
Of us
Survived
What we heard
Was only a
Splash
And the river
Was staining
The color
Of blood
It was the splash
That swallowed
My hardheaded
Youth.
I remember
This teleman
Viola concerto
A burial
Without a
Dead body
Twas a simple
Floating of
A candle boat
On the river
And then
All the violins
And the viola
Sounded to the
Cry of the mother
Who never
Believed my
Story of a splash.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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And In The House
And in the house
All is now silent
I rise and grope
In the dark, dark
And lo! Before me
A blue light I
A thin blue light
See I all a-shining
And leading me
And guiding me
Into the dark
In the long night
In to the long night!
Ah! father, father
Where are
You leading me:
The thin blue light
Now veers to here
And then to there
Now up
Now down
It plays:
And in the night
The long lone night
The seconds turn and turn!
And in the house
The lonely house
A soundless sound
Is humming:
The light
The thin blue light
Is leading still leading
And in the night
No time is passing
No hope of dawn
Or day
Is coming:
But dark
And dark:
Yet in the night
This night
Of black
A thrill felt I
And happiness
That never felt!
poem by Emmanuel George Cefai
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Sweet Rumors
Deserted house
With thatched roof
Along the Dicayo River
Rumors are sweet
On a swarm of bees
Who now live there
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Waiting At The Gate
(carly simon/jacob brackman)
An occasional joint, a glass or two of beer
Still I would never have guessed that youd wind up here
In a half-way house, on a dead-end street
In a run-down part of a one-horse town
But just do what they say, dont worry bout your girl
cause I wont run away, and I wont run around
And I wont let you down, and without a doubt
Ill be waiting, waiting
Waiting at the gate when they let you out
You set the world on fire, dancing after dark
Now youre playing solitaire in a fenced-in park
Im not the one to judge you, so baby dont be scared
No one gets a free ride, none of us is spared
Ill be back on the ninth, Ive circled the date
Three oclock sharp, and I wont be late
Youve been through hell I know what thats all about
And Ill be waiting, waiting
Waiting at the gate when they let you out
The doctors have so little faith
They say you were a classic case
They said the chance is eight in ten
Theyd see you back in here again
But Im counting on you to prove the doctors wrong
Im imagining you, healthy and strong
Your papers all stamped, your eyes so bright and blue
Looking like a baby picture of you
Walking down the path, your suitcase in your hand
The howling at your back, a brand new man
Be a perfect little camper, be a brave little scout
And Ill be waiting waiting
Waiting at the gate when they let you out...
song performed by by Carly Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pool
The moon leant down, her fingers kindling
the lips of each little wave of the pool,
blue O, with watery fire, til it said 'oh' or 'Oh'.
Tight in the grip of its meniscus the water bound
forms of drowned moths, that wings
outflung, soddenly stalked our gleaming abdomens-
we beat them back in fear and disgust.
From somewhere in the yard there came a light.
How our feet were magnified in the water's glass!
There by the hose head the underwater wrinkled.
Another, flat like a snake run over
Pin-pricked like arteries themselves, shot piddlng arcs
and the night ran on and we ran back onto the stoop
our ankles now stuck with sticky blades of grass
as new-moon colored bands of pale convolvulus,
white un-ringing yellow bells a-swinging,
raced slyly about the cornice of the house.
Everywhere the lawn was alive with little frogs
'Let us in, let us in', all at once shouting.
poem by Morgan Michaels
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Forever his eyes can see.....
Painting beautiful words and painting with words,
Painting an ugly portrait with a hidden beauty,
Portraiture means, sometimes, silent poetry,
And other times, means a flower blossoming,
A miracle and a privilege,
Or just beauty beyond the words.
With tears like drops of rain, with tears in the rain,
Portraiture is an ice cube in the water of colors,
Floating on the river of time....
Sweet thoughts of the portraitist are coming to light,
Becoming creative and insightful realities...
He's always angry with himself, but he's never hating himself,
When he wants to be a witness, who testifies the truth.
He, sometimes, becomes frustrated, while he is living with his faith
And his divine malignant fever means writing poems,
Which are born, sometimes, from his obsessions with music.
It is about that kind of music,
Which is torturing his dreams throughout the night
And makes the weight of his loneliness to creep inside.
Behind his soul's door, always the loved souls
Can hear his musical notes...
His poetical lines are other times immense pools of light,
In which the readers wet their thoughts
To see the eyes of the Father, in that spiritual Earth paradise,
Where all souls stand as equals....
To see the eyes of the Father, in that spiritual Earth paradise,
Where forever his eyes can see.....
dedicated to our poet Eyan Desir
poem by Marieta Maglas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Yellow Moon
Anxious hope and thoughts of love will never let me down, not let me go
Inside, my hearts a cage of ice loved and lost,
Still toss the lonely dice
I burned the whole night long my thoughts were never far from you
Love that locks and binds must die
But when it dies a part of you dies too.
Born, born, born upon the world the restless heart keeps flying,
Trying to become the heart of home.
Love, love, love, it picks you up and spins you round,
Sits you right back down where you belong.
I dont fit my hat sometimes, I get so full of clouds
Every time I pass your door I hear you cry out loud
Sometimes I look the same to you as you have looked to me
My eyes get filled so full of stars, I dont know when I leave
Born, born, born upon the world the restless heart keeps flying,
Trying to become the heart of home.
Love, love, love, it picks you up and spins you round,
Sits you right back down where you belong.
Love is like the april rain that makes the harvest grow
And when it grows its like the summer gold
Love is like the coloured leaves that drift down from the trees
One by one til every tale is told
Now if I go a dancing out across the yellow moon
Ill be home by morning if it doesnt come too soon
If you seek protection go and find a safer man
And if he cant give you what you want then come on by again.
Priestess of the sun and moon and goddess of the wind
You know too much to ever lose and not enough to win
Though you built your house upon the rock and not upon the sand
Youre still looking out your window for another travelin man.
Born, born, born upon the world the restless heart keeps flying,
Trying to become the heart of home.
Love, love, love, it picks you up and spins you round,
Sits you right back down where you belong.
song performed by by Grateful Dead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Midnight Canto
Young, you weep the falling moon,
Luminous willow, beside the black river
Where I drown in your pale ghost,
Each small wave, the eyelid
Of a scattered rose, silvered by the light.
You are everything that time could steal
From me, brought back, an afterlife
I had not thought possible, a birth
Beyond the debt I owe to anyone,
These hauntings, these crucial exorcisms.
In me, wheat, honey, white gold,
Your sad summer made mystery
By night, in me, when perfect solitude
Paints your face upon its raven waters
And the watching stars discuss conspiracies
Of love that terrify the sleepless hour.
Servant of the dream that spins the world
Through the languishing ages into yesterday,
I am resurrected like the wind to comb
Your hair, and play upon your cheek,
A memory of fire, to let you know,
Though alone, I am near and now,
The music of your shining leaves,
Companion, sage, fool, or poet,
The soft, mad music of your shining leaves.
poem by Patrick White
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