Clouds And Roads
On a sizzling riverbed, how many suicides
will make up the loss of a green moon? Must
we count our rags in sleep? Victims of a
manipulated music of bricks!
I thought, I will give you more, taking
less of you, have finally laid to rest the attacking
needles in the black holes of flesh. In rains we
will cry endlessly.
Another promise broken, would watch the stars
to set forth the eggs. A melon sweetens the
tongue of dissenters and robes are taken
off after the helicopter crash.
On the palms opium grows, bubbles learn
to float with the words of priests who were
reciting hymns to anoint the new incumbent,
will start the black magic again for mass slimming.
poem by Satish Verma
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Related quotes
Book Of Black Holes
You be on yourside
I'll be on my side
In between there is a book
the book of Black Holes
You sling your arrows
I'll dodge the harrows
And then I'll record it
In the book of Black Holes
There be many pages
that goes through many stages
In the end you may find it
In the book of Black Holes
If it's a five or ten
Even a zero I win
And I have recorded it
In the book of Black Holes
Your comments cryptic
Your words haze, eliptic
And like I said goes down
In the book of Black Holes
Your choice to be insipid
Your dreams are timid
Compared to what's collected
In my book of Black Holes
poem by Midnights Voice
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This Green City
Someone's evil laugh shoots down my back
Shapeless and ageing we start to run
Through the tangle of your broken words
This cheap impulse falls so dry
In the maze. i burn down
Turn...you turn my skin around
Wishing my eyes could look down
Down on me...
Stairs fall like jewels
As we near the door
You fold through my neck
And arms like crystal
So black, so black with charm and breath
We turn to face the dying sun...
This green city rains down on me
This green city rains down on me
song performed by by Cure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Broken
You can close your eyes
And see a picture perfect life
Inside of your mind
Dreaming only of the days ahead
Wanted and wished for more than now
Or the days behind
You waste your time
The picture makes a promise
The flesh lets it be broken
The picture makes a promise
The flesh lets it be broken
You can never think
You cant even stop yourself
Before the words have been spoken
And youve already said
You would give everything
And something for nothing
Everybody thinks youre joking
The picture makes a promise
The flesh lets it be broken
The picture makes a promise
The flesh lets it be broken
You want to be the one
Made over be your own
Before and after
And a supermarket
Beauty in a bottle queen
Wholl one day grace a check-out counter
Magazine front cover
Though the fine print reads
The picture makes a promise
The flesh lets it be broken
The picture makes a promise
The flesh lets it be broken
Lets it be broken
Lets it be broken
Lets it be broken
Lets it be broken
Lets it be broken
Broken
Broken
When your life is never what you wanted
Not even halfway normal
Just tarnished and soiled
When in your reach
A framed and frozen moment
So far from perfection
Not truth or transcendence
Will set you free
Still you dont believe
The picture makes a promise
The flesh lets it be broken
The picture makes a promise
The flesh lets it be broken
song performed by by Tracy Chapman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Cant Be Sold
if time be chiseled in flesh,
then names but smoke,
leaving bricks to testify.
and destiny perceived,
the debt relieved,
who pays the cost to die?
the hallowed clothed
in rags and dust,
kneel beneath the cross denied.
we pray to ghosts,
while ignorance grows,
walking suicides.
still the rebel wind
breaks windowpanes,
tears roofs from vacant souls.
calling to the few,
who dare be true,
to give what cant be sold!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Rags And Riches
Deep blue, almost black,
sadness.
Being,
my ache of existence.
Eyes, no body in focus.
A grey cloud
rowing the moon
amidst red stars.
Bronzed tongue
digs the spirit
out of flesh
behind the shadows.
Alone me
in unlived house of rags,
looking beyond the walls
other side of tomorrow.
poem by Satish Verma
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We all sink in black holes
We all sink in black holes
of bad luck,
Live again, live again
stamp out that pain,
Help yourself you cannot pass
the sadness buck,
Loss of this, loss of that,
loss of love that’s dear,
Melting sorrow from your heart,
Shout your joy of life, your joy,
and not draining fear,
Draw from inner strength
laid for a new start.
You must make those
living sparks again,
Be the person that you are
with awesome life
Be happy, smile wave to friends
and walk in the rain,
Then for sure
you will be yourself again
poem by Ken e Hall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Symbolism
the black wings of
a butterfly
are on top of the
red slice of
melon
she fabricates
some stories
from there
she says i cannot
say i am not
part of the black wings
the slice of the red melon
fears are embedded
on the red blood and
... finally i resign, she
never knew what a poem
means, to me it is my universe.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Long Black Limousine
(words & music by v. stovall - b. george)
Theres a long line of mourners
Driving down our little street
Their fancy cars are such a sight to see, oh yea
Theyre all rich friends who knew you in the scene
And now theyve finally brought you
Brought you home to me
When you left you know you told me
That some day youd be returnin
In a fancy car, all the town to see, oh yea,
Well now everyone is watching you
You finally had your dream, yea
Youre ridin in a long black limousine
You know the papers told of how you lost your life, oh yea
The party, the party and the fatal crash that night
Well the race along the highway, oh the curve you didnt see
When youre riding in that long black limousine
Through tear filled eyes I watch as you pass by oh yea
A chauffeur, a chauffeur at the wheel dressed up so fine
Well I never, I never, never, never
Oh my heart, all my dreams yea, theyre with you
In that long black limousine
Yea, yea, theyre with you in that long black limousine
Yea, yea, theyre with you in that long black limousine
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Black Bird...
it was her black bird
first that saw and i never stopped thinking since then
figuring what is the meaning of having
those black wings
flying
and to where is this direction heading?
from my mouth is borne the
blackbird bearing my own name
at the tip of its
beak
and it is flying now too low to touch
the needles of the pines
do you not see that it is tired
and wants to hover on one of those twigs?
how can you relate to blackbirds?
they grown from our throats and comes out
from our lips
and they keep on flying
wishing you can keep it flying still
higher and higher
until you finally give up
and tell the truth
about its
flesh and bones
until you remove all its black feathers
and burn all them
for the gods to smell.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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For Paul Celan
The stars of eternity stare into the darkness
Breathing nothingness that grows around
Orphaned black holes of silent despair in space
Your percolated wounds never could heal
By the doleful symphonies of a tormented élan.
You never recovered from the mass murders
To which you bear witness with anguished cenotaphs
Oh your yellow haired mother could not come home
She could not come home; her heart was torn by lead.
Blazing stars of frozen eternity shine at the moon frost
Slowly the late autumn opens an envelope of pain
It engulfs your lost world with charred pilgrims
Floating along latitudes of convulsive memories.
Your yellow haired mother could not come home
Her heart was torn by lead; she could not come home
Hot stars of cold eternity gleam in the lonely darkness
And black holes dance in the crumbling empty space
You yearn for faith, searching for a beam of hope.
poem by Paul Hartal
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Black holes ain't as black as they are painted. They are not the eternal prisons they were once thought. Things can get out of a black hole, both to the outside, and possibly to another universe. So if you feel you are in a black hole, don't give up. There's a way out.
quote by Stephen Hawking
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Aurora Borealis
A crystallization of color spreads from the upper regions of the dark sky towards the trembling nipples of the waves. The feathering fringes of clouds fade behind pillars of green light. Transparent curtains tremble every-where. In the arctic temple, the hidden Samson of light shakes the moon-green pillars of the night.
Color these crystals with sudden blood; it is dawn, or else the last consumptive saliva of the dying day. Heartless hard light!
In the crisp light of the frozen tinkling stars, no waters flow. The ice-stars are icebergs in this black ocean. When the green glass cathedrals crash, the light and the pillars of light and the green pillars of moon-green crystallized light are reflected through space and finally settle like sharp blades above the trembling nipples of the waves.
Samson moves in the glass cathedrals. Samson and the bull and Samson and the sun and the sun is the bull and Samson is the sun and is the bull.
Let crackling twigs of green-white light weave fantastic tree-patterns on the mirror of the sea. Let the deceptive sky celebrate the fall of its ice-cathedrals and its icebergs and its ice-stars when darkness hardens the black waters into the sullen black ice-pack of night.
Red Samson the arctic red sun is moving in the groves of green pillars. There is the red tinge of consumptive blood flickering behind the moon-green glass pillars of light. Blood of red Samson, red blood of Samson, the red thief is sprinkling blood on the slanting pillars of the falling sanctuary of light that is doomed to succumb soon to the black ice-pack of night. Then there will be night and, suddenly thrust into dark night, the red sex of the Samson-sun must later rise out of eastern whiteness and destroy the night.
Then the pillars of the black shattered temple of night glow with a white light and a red light of consumptive blood, but again later comes night then again the same Samson as the temples crash each time when the red thief scatters blood on the pillars of the light or the pillars of the night. And the thief is Samson and the red sun is Samson and Samson is the thief and Samson is the sun.
poem by Edouard Roditi
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Rags & Old Iron
Norman curtis, oscar brown jr
Rags old iron rags old iron
All he was buying was just rags and old iron
I heard that old rag man now making his rounds
He came right to my alley lord with sorrowful sounds
Crying rags old iron and pulling his cart
Ask him how much hed give me for my broken heart
Rags old iron rags old iron
All he was buying was just rags and old iron
So I asked that old rag man how much he would pay
For a heart that was broken baby when you went away
For a burnt out old love light that no longer beams
And a couple of slightly used second hand dreams
Rags old iron rags old iron
All he was buying was just rags and old iron
For those big empty promises you used to make
For those memories of you that are no longer sweet
I wish he could haul them off down the street
Rags old iron rags old iron
All he was buying was just rags and old iron
When love doesnt last tell me what is it worth
It was once mamas most precious possession on earth
When I asked that old rag man if hed like to buy
He just shook his head and continued to cry
Rags old iron rags old iron
All he was buying was just rags and old iron
Rags old iron rags old iron
Rags old iron rags old iron rags old iron
song performed by by Nina Simone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Black Magic Woman
Credits
Music/ Lyrics: Peter Green
Lyrics
Got a black magic woman
Got a black magic woman.
I got a black magic woman
Got me so blind I cant see
That shes a black magic woman
Shes tryin to make a devil out of me.
Turn your back on me baby
Turn your back on me baby.
Yes, dont turn your back on me baby
Stop messin round with your tricks
Dont turn your back on me baby
You just might pick up my magic sticks.
Got your spell on me baby
Got your spell on me baby.
Yes you got your spell on me baby
Turning my heart into stone
I need you so bad - magic woman
I cant leave you alone
song performed by by Santana
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Spanish Harlem
There is a rose in spanish harlem
A rose that grows in spanish harlem
Its never seen the sun
It only comes up when the moon is on the run
And all the stars are leaving
Well, it grows right in the street
Up between the concrete
But soft and sweet, and (breathing? ? )
There is a rose in spanish harlem
A rose that grows in spanish harlem
Oh, with eyes as black as coal
That reach down in my soul
And start a fire I cant control
I beg your pardon
Well, I want to pick that rose
And watch her as she grows
In my garden
There is a rose in spanish harlem
There is a rose in spanish harlem
song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Black Swan
(1947) gian carlo menotti
The sun is falling and it lies in blood
The moon is weaving bandages of gold
Old black swan where oh where is my lover now
Where oh where is my lover now
Torn and tattered is my bridal gown and my lamp is lost
With silver needles and with silver threads
The stars stitch a route for the dying sun
Old black swan where oh where is my lover now
I had given him a kiss and a golden ring
And a golden ring
I had given him a kiss of fire and a golden ring
Oh with silver needles and with silver threads
The stars stitch a route for the dying sun
Black wing o black wing take me down with you
Take me down with you take me down with you
Take me down with you
Old black swan take me down with you
I had given him a kiss of fire
Take me down with you
song performed by by Nina Simone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Black-eyed Susan
Black-eyed susan
You make us nervous
Because were very aware that you do not care
Oh, black-eyed susan
What dont you believe in ?
No is always easier than yes
Whoo !
Black-eyed susan
You must insist :
You are a born-again atheist, oh
Oh, heavy-rings on
Bitten fingers
Black-eyed susan sometimes
Shakes to break
So, watch it
Oh ...
Black-eyed susan
Rest and do nothing
cause its the only thing that you do quite well
Aah ...
Black-eyed susan
Rest and do nothing
cause its the only thing that you do quite well
Aah ...
Black-eyed susan
Rest and do nothing
cause its the only thing that you do quite well
Aah ...
Black-eyed susan
Please remember
We were the first
We were the first
Oh ...
song performed by by Morrissey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Haunting The Chapel
The holy cross
Symbol of life
Anticipate the lives of Christians born
Speak of death
The words of hate
Anticipate the rules among the dead
Hell has seen
Priests condemned
To bring forth the lord of the cross
Strike twelve
Raise the dead
The chapel comes under attack
The ghosts of dead
Torment the priest
Their altar will soon be destroyed
Heaven's mass
Turning black
The church will belong to the dead
Blackened magic
And thus we're lost
Lucifer will supreme
The crystal ball
Children of faith
Their lasting eternal scream
Those who never make the people scream
Have no task for all of time
Satan's form of soldiers stand in lust
Destruction charged upon the cross
Attacking there's seven ways to go
Tormenting the priest
song performed by by Slayer from Haunting The Chapel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Little You & I
words by jason mraz & ariel quirolo
music by jason mraz
you close your eyes
you say goodnight in your own special way
you rest your head and you rest your mind
and there you go
there you go so fast, so fast asleep
there you are without a care when or where
but there you are I swear without a care where it is you lay
spiraling spaces tangled up in moments of touching time
trying to find some somewhere sleeping sideways
pockets full of nothing, head exploding from the mind
too much time for dancing in our hair
sister don't be shy between little you and I
mouths in line, tears beside
and we're gonna weep in between the sleep
until we float away into broken promises
too much too hard to keep
and we would sell our souls to the devil if he promised us hell
it's something we already know so well
and it's right on, right on the tip of our tongue
something big that has already begun
(something dead but not quite numb)
and I'm singing it
mouths in line, tears beside
and we're gonna weep in between the sleep
until we float away into broken promises
too much too hard to keep
song performed by by Jason Mraz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Centriolum
Never in those sizzling conflicts
displaying the pink eyes
you were able to reach me.
Was it metagenesis,
forgetting your selfhood?
Fragments of a beast were floating on sea.
Was umblicus of death broken
in the crotch of a mother?
Lay the corn again on my palm
to smoulder in the heat of sun.
Hunger will take revenge now.
Burn, burn my truth, burn!
I was the creator,
and I was destroyer
at the helm of unbuttoning coal.
It was a black, black sky,
where the stars were hesitant to show their
centrioles.
After the sun rises in a black dawn
there will be no shocks.
poem by Satish Verma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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