Related quotes: To slice a hope in...

Democracy

To slice a hope in stark terror
he thought to bid holy goodbye
to destiny, and let himself go
in the shadow of weeping deads.

The orange moon looked mutilated.
Quietly stood a suicide bomber,
ready to get killed for a home in white heaven
and destroying the leaping stars.

Who had the blood on the hands?
Hiding in the white gown,
crossing the shelter, to dropp the guilt
on the road, never to look back.

Century of oppression, like baked blood
shines on the coffins of martyrs.
At dawn the pariahs promise to lead
the band towards democracy.

poem by Satish Verma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Related quotes

Without Qualms

He resumed walking with the sun
propelled in river of fire of blunt red
and striking yellow to resonate with the pain of her,
who sleeps on the thighs of a temple tree.

The vibrations still follow the echo of forgiveness,
a shadow of palm rises on white wounds.
The snoring of blood letting winds break the
bones crisply, on the jealous shores.

Where was the need of sharp edges to slice
the heart? The words spilled on the table
like blood curdling bats. The candle light
turns black with a guilt.

Small gods are weeping inside the tear
scorched eyes. Somebody prays for the fallen
monuments of tongues and bullet killed bells
of tributes. Stars started hiding their faces.

poem by Satish Verma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Two Mothers

Israeli and Palestine conflict

Prostrate with grief
Rachel weeps for a dead son
Killed by a suicide bomber.

Prostrate with grief
Sarah weeps for a dead son -the suicide bomber
Who believed blood would set his people free.

Blood begets blood
Reprisal follows reprisal.
And there is no honour in death
Only tears of mothers for dead children.

poem by Colin Ian Jeffery
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

I Am Nothing!

nothing....
i am nothing,
nothing but the breeze

walking through the trees.
nothing but the caw of the crow,
the echo of the mountains' silence.

nothing but the empty bowl
held by the hungry child.
nothing but the dark face,

the white hands,
spoken in different languages.
nothing but the blood,

of the family killed by the bombs.
nothing but the lonely terror
of the suicide just before dawn.

nothing but the footprints
the lonely traveller follows
on the way back home.....

nothing but the leaf
turned from green to red to brown.
nothing but the memories

of love calling back to you.
nothing but a prayer,
an offered hand, an unknown friend,

a tear, a smile....
the dance of the living,
a small fire on the darkest night!

poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Every Road Leads Me Back To You

Every road leads me back to you.
My destiny is mapped out
for every step I take
and every road I travel
leads me back to you.
Some are guided by the morning sun,
some by the moon and stars at night,
but every road I travel
leads me back to you.
Our home maybe far away
in the snow tipped mountaintops
or under the big city lights.
It does not matter where it lies,
every road I take the end will be the same,
for every road leads me back to you,
and you are there to shelter me
from any given storm.
You lead me away from temptations
that plague my life.
You are always there
when my foes I have to fight.
Each night when I am weary
tis, you I come to at night,
for every road I travel, Lord
always leads me back to you
for my faith to be renewed.

11 August 2008

poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Ready To Fly

I've been trying to open the door
To the secret of my destiny
And every new road I think is the one
Seems to lead right back to me
I've looked for a way to be wiser
A way to be strong
Now I see the answer was hiding
In me all along
Chorus:
And I'm ready to fly
Over the sun
Like a rocket to heaven
And I'm ready to soar
Right through the sky
Never dreamed I'd find something to lift me so high
I've always had wings
But I wasn't ready to fly
Restless, hopeless, and misunderstood
Like so many others I know
So busy tryin' to keep holdin' on
When I should've been letting go
I was given the gift to find it
The spirit inside me
But I never really imagined
All I could be
Chorus:
And I'm ready to fly
Over the sun
Like a rocket to heaven
And I'm ready to soar
Right through the sky
Never dreamed I'd find something to lift me so high
I've always had wings
But I wasn't ready to fly
The answer to all of my wonder
Was right in my hands
Now it's time for me to discover
All that I am
Chorus:
And I'm ready to fly
Over the sun
Like a rocket to heaven
And I'm ready to soar
Right through the sky
Never dreamed I'd find something to lift me so high
I've always had wings
But I wasn't ready to fly
I've always had wings
Now I'm finally ready to fly

song performed by by Richard Marx
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

To a Child

When I was a child I saw
a burning bird in a tree.
I see became I am,
I am became I see.

In winter dawns of frost
the lamp swung in my hand.
The battered moon on the slope
lay like a dune of sand;

and in the trap at my feet
the rabbit leapt and prayed,
weeping blood, and crouched
when the light shone on the blade.

The sudden sun lit up
the webs from wire to wire;
the white webs, the white dew,
blazed with a holy fire.

Flame of light in the dew,
flame of blood on the bush
answered the whirling sun
and the voice of the early thrush.

I think of this for you.
I would not have you believe
the world is empty of truth
or that men must grieve,

but hear the song of the martyrs
out of a bush of fire-
'All is consumed with love;
all is renewed with desire.'

poem by Judith Wright
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The Guardian Angels

A Ballad

Father John in the green lane went
And he drew his robe full tight,
'I would,' quoth he, 'I were home again
For there's evil in the night.
'I would,' quoth he, 'the gold I bear
Were safe with the poor and old,
For strange the fear that follows me
That my eyes cannot behold.'
He looked him left and there he saw
A white rose climb and cling,
He looked him right and in the brake
A wild bird shook his wing.
He looked him back and far there stood
The old church tall and dim,
Yet on the lonely path there came
A terror strange to him.

Without the shadow of the trees
That bent above his way,
Where lost the moon her silver light,
He stood at last at bay.
And on his gown, from his pale brow
Fell great tears of his fright;
His shaking hands held close the gold
Wrapped in its cloth so white.
He knelt him down upon his knee
And prayed the Lord to hear,
'Christ, loosen Thou these laggard feet
That hold me slow in fear.
'Oh, strengthen Thou this childish heart
That trembles all afraid,
In pity for the calling sick
Who die without my aid.
'And let me bring all safely through
The shadows of the night,
The gold I bear for old and poor,
Still Thou this strange affright.'

And as he prayed from off his heart
Fear's clutching fingers fell,
A holy joy grew in his heart
He knew that all was well.
He turned him left and stayed to take
A white rose from her tree,
He turned him right and lilted low
A wild bird melody.
He looked him back and smiling saw
The tall church guarding him,
And then all fearless laughing sped
Through shadows strange and dim.

When but a year had passed away
There came before his gate,
A dying man who 'Succour,' cried
'Before it be too late.'
'Oh, shrive me, Father, ere I die,'
The moaning stranger said;
He took him to his own hearth side
And laid him on his bed.

'Oh, Father! Father! hear me now
And let me rest in peace.'
'Now speak, my son, and tell your sin
To give your soul release.'
'It was one night a year ago—
Sweet Mary, ease my pain—
I followed far your toiling feet
Within a lonely lane.
'The red gold for the old and poor
You had beneath your gown,
I hid within a darksome place
Where I could strike you down.'
Now Father John he smiled and leant
In pity by the bed,
'I did disarm you by my prayer,
I thank the Lord,' he said.
'I went in fear upon my path
I knew some danger lay,
And lone I knelt upon the road
A little while to pray.'

The dying man he raised his head
And laughed both long and loud,
'Oh, ne'er a prayer would hold my hand
Or keep you from your shroud.
'But by you went two mighty men
To guard you either side,
Else had my dagger reached your heart
And surely you had died.'
Then Father John upon his knees
Bent low his holy head,
'God's angels walked beside me there
Lest you my blood should shed
My guardian angels walked by me,
I thank Thee, Lord,' he said.

poem by Dora Sigerson Shorter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Mea Culpa

Vaja con Dios
Even if thought
Mea culpa
The quilt is mine

Gaudeamus
Perdus oublis
Ubijeni svi
Nos habebit
The dawns
Les regrets
Pokajanja
Mea culpa
Tea culpa
Nostra culpa
Mois perdue
Even if thought
Humus
Quo vadis?
J’m appele
The road
I mnenje
U nadi
Avec Dieu
Con dios
Adios
Sa bogom
Zbogom

Go with God
Even if thought
My fault
The guilt is mine

Let us rejoice
Lost and forgotten
Killed all
We’ll be possessed
By the dawns
The regrets
Repentences
The guilt is mine
The guilt is yours
The guilt is ours
The ground
Where are you going?
My name is the road
And a foreboding
In hope
With the God
With the God
Goodbye
With the God
Goodbye

poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

A White Architect Of Light

8.8.88: She came back from the land of democrative destiny and dissolved
into the chaotic void.
Fighting for the freedom of reality
Building the light house in the darkest hours of life
Fixing up the spiritual essence through the existential nothingness
in the valueless zone

Layers by layers, realities of life theatre are turned into distilled light
out of trapped reflections

Mother of modern Myanmar honoured by consciencious tree of life
Curving away all the unnecessary parts
Curving away all the necessary parts
Communication revolution of the 21 st century
Aung San Su Kyi, The White Architect Of Light
Light's shadow is light
Light's shadow is light
Light's shadow is light

Aung San Su Kyi, The White Architect Of Light
Light's shadow is light
Light's shadow is light
Light's shadow is light

poem by Nyein Way
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!