Denuding
Wearing a skin
where flesh had melted
in blankness.
The moon was sitting
on window
parting the curtains
The sunset
accepts the death
as final verdict
Small scholars
will find out the pain
of molesting.
Estrogen untamed
on street
rises in arches.
poem by Satish Verma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Under the Sunset Sky
Sitting under the sunset sky
Laying around I wonder why
You value me so much more
Than any other you’ve met before
Why you feel so safe by me
And no the others that you see
Sitting under the sunset sky
I find comfort and I sigh
Knowing all is well by you
Having peace in all I do
Watching my troubles fall away
Not wanting then back any day
Sitting under the sunset sky
When you’re sad I want to cry
Feeling you’re sorrow, hurt and pain
When it’s done, all for gain
Drawing away from the past
What’s done is done and shouldn’t last
Sitting under the sunset sky
Only thing to do is deny
The comfort found when we’re alone
Feelings around us never shown
If only to live for how we feel
Soon this love would we seal
Sitting under the sunset sky
Longing for you by and by
Can’t get you off my mind
All the reasons trying to find
Thinking so hard never to know
Why you might care for me so
Sitting under the sunset sky
Hoping you won’t chose another guy
To be the one, to live the life
That good men live, without strife
To be with you is my goal
Are you the match for my soul?
Sitting under the sunset sky
To be with you when I die
Would be the best of any dream
Looking around, you see me beam
I’ve found the one out of all
Now it’s done, this task not small
poem by Brian Potthast
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
As The Sunset
As the sunset I think to myself why.
As the sunset I sit down and cry.
Wondering why life got to be a lie.
As the sunset I dropp my head.
As the sunset I think about you instead.
How can I go home and get in my bed.
As the sunset I say no.
As the sunset I just don't know.
My love that I have for u just wont go.
As the sunset I look to the sky.
As the sunset I wait to die.
Tell me how to say good-bye.
As the sunset I say a prayer.
As the sunset how can I dare.
I'm giving up, I just don't care.
Sitting by the window watching the sun to set.
Knowing I'm going to see you again,
and you coming back home at the end.
By: Brittany Smith
9/25/08
poem by Brittany Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
An Anode Will Discharge
Your window
was very small.
Why did not you throw the dice?
Walk away
without a want?
I had no courage
to tell the lies,
to hold the secrets
of brave tears,
which failed to live in red-bricked house.
And a naked womb
protecting the fetus
from scars and curtains,
will find a anointed bed to sleep for eternity,
for delivering, a new star.
An anode will discharge
on a galactic light,
a message of the hungry
birds of prey.
Death wants its share of flesh.
poem by Satish Verma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The other thing is that doctors test only the most common estrogen level. There are three kinds of estrogen in a woman but they don't test the other two because they are so rare; mine was the third kind of estrogen.
quote by Marie Osmond
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Case Of The Window Pain
an astute answer
discerning shrewd
would surely mention
this wit must be
personification
of a window pane
as for the window pain
perhaps the window is shamed
perhaps the window is dirty
as for the window pain
perhaps the glass is cracked
small large cracks streaked
as for the window pain
perhaps cricket ball punctured
victim of circle game holed
as for the window pain
perhaps the window is broken
glass shards bear crime witness
as for the window pain
perhaps window frame rots
an old window in house derelict
as for the window pain
perhaps the window witnesses
child abuse domestic scenes violent
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Something that you cannot be accurate about
It happened, the taxi was taken, both of you took the ride
No one wanted to take the front,
Passengers
Sitting beside, no names, just chance,
Together, that moment, there was rain,
Sweat, abundant sweat, the aircon is high
Music was loud and the travel was long
A convention, you did not see malice
Friendship, sweat, abundant sweat
Even when the aircon was set higher
Drink, lots of drinks, until both of you were drunk
You hate to use pronouns now
The verb is untamed, your hair standing, your drunkenness
Suddenly lost, slowly, slowly, caresses,
Bursting you lost everything in your mind
Was the night that long really? Were the curtains
Thick? Were the windows open? Was there a moon
By the window? Were the lights off?
You do not remember, Morning comes, light
Enters the door filtered by the curtains.
You wished you were alone. You weren’t. Last night
Something happened, years ago, you simply could not remember
The face.
It is still horrible. Something you cannot write until now.
Your pronouns are not meant to be visible.
The shadows even not defined.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Unstitching
Do not take a vow of silence.
Death will find its home.
The circus has taken over
the needles.Who will stitch
the wounds of earth. A man
walks into sunset carrying
a bowl of tears. The sit-in
was going to resist a poem
of life. Would you unrobe
your identity in public one day?
Always I am punctuated at night
by a yellow moon standing
in my window. A nude goddess
is going to mourn the death of a thought.
poem by Satish Verma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Solitudes
The questions hang like skin tags.
A broken mirror, stabs
during birth of time.
We have got to do it, save it
in its infancy, before it is submerged
along with the temple of fake gods: -
before it is plagiarized by the
polity. The wives were fattening
on art of running the state
from behind the curtains. Would
you like to sign on my skin?
Your death wish? I am washing
my sins today. It is bit cold
here in the blue lake of tears. Now
you can hold my arm for final plunge.
poem by Satish Verma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Blood In The Boardroom
sitting in the boardroom
the I'm-so-bored room
listening to the suits
talk about their world
they can make straight lines
out of almost anything
except for the line
of my upper lip when it curls
dressed in my best greasy skin
and squinty eyes
I'm the only part of summer here
that made it inside
in the air-conditioned building
decorated with coporate flair
I wonder
can these boys smell me bleeding
though my underwear
there's men wearing the blood
of the women they love
there's white wearing the blood of the brown
but every woman learns to bleed from the moon
and we bleed to renew life
every time it's cut down
I got my vertebrae all stacked up
as high as they go
I but I still feel myself sliding
from the earth that I know
so I excuse myself and leave the room
say my period came early
but it's not a minute too soon
I go and find the only other woman on the floor
is the secretary sitting at the desk by the door
I ask her if she's got a tampon I could use
she says
oh honey
song performed by by Ani DiFranco from Puddle Dive
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Introspection
If you go deep
Into the heart
What do you find there?
Fear, fear,
Fear of the jaws of the rock,
Fear of the teeth and splinters of iron that tear
Flesh from the bone, and the moist
Blood, running unfelt
From the wound, and the hand
Suddenly moist and red.
If you go deep
Into the heart
What do you find?
Grief, grief,
Grief for the life unlived,
For the loves unloved,
For the child never to be born,
Th'unbidden anguish, when the fair moon
Rises over still summer seas, and the pain
Of sunlight scattered in vain on spring grass.
If you go deeper
Into the heart
What do you find there?
Death, death,
Death tht lets all go by,
Lets the blood flow from the wound,
Lets the night pass,
Endures the day with indifference, knowing that all must end.
Sorrow is not forever, ad sense
Endures no extremities,
Death is the last Secret implicit within you, the hidden, the deepest
Knowledge of all you will ever unfold
In this body of earth.
poem by Kathleen Jessie Raine
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Two headlines
A woman sitting in the corner of a broken hut,
With her four kids around,
Her empty stomach makes the sound of bubbling,
A mourning music on the death of humanity,
An emptiness runs through her veins,
Emptiness of deprivation,
She is being deprived of something,
Which is must to keep her alive,
She comes on the street,
Full of the sounds of vehicles,
Her own voice is lost in this clamour,
She clings her children and cries in pain,
'Help, somebody help',
But no one takes pain to behold this sight,
She stops at a door and peeps
Through the window to beg something,
To have control over her skipping breath,
But to her amazement,
Doggies are being fed with milk and roasted meat,
Her heart chokes,
She fell down on the street,
A speeding vehicle crushes them to death.
There was a headline in the newspaper,
'A woman is crushed to death with her four children.'
And below the news, there was another 'Twenty thousand tons of wheat spoils in the
government go downs.'
poem by Mohammad Akmal Nazir
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Skin Stealer
This evening I unzipped my skin
And carefully unscrewed my head,
Exactly as I always do
When I prepare myself for bed.
And while I slept a coo-coo came
As naked as could be
And put on the skin
And screwed on the head
That once belonged to me.
Now wearing my feet
He runs through the street
In a most disgraceful way.
Doin' things and sayin' things
I'd never do or say,
Ticklin' the children
And kickin' the men
And Dancin' the ladies away.
So if he makes your bright eyes cry
Or makes your poor head spin,
That scoundrel you see
Is not really me
He's the coo-coo
Who's wearing my skin.
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Tragedy too is relished
Every parting is painful
Like every death is sorrowful.
Every parting has behind it
A vivid sojourn
Like every death has behind it
An emoted relation.
Rue not the end.
Muse on the events.
It is a pleasurable pain
Like Shakespearean Tragedies.
10.01.99, Palakkad
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Cripple
He totters round and dangles those odd shapes
That were his legs. His eyes are never dim.
He brags about his fame between the tapes,
And laughs the loudest when they laugh at him.
Amid the fights of snow he takes a hand;
Accepts his small defeats, and with a smile
He rises from the ground, and makes his stand
With clumsiness, but battles hard the while.
So quick to see the pain in fellow men,
He chides them; yea.-and laughs them into
youth:
and yet, when death was near to one, ‘twas then
about his kindly heart we learnt the truth,
since nowadays of cheer there is a dearth,
‘Twas smiles or tears, and he chose the mirth.
poem by Leon Gellert
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sidelined
A sorcerer moon was rising
amidst grizzly clouds.
A lurid willingness of night
to surrender was evident-
skimming the stars.
A pact was inked between an
antiheroine and a renegade.
An apostate-
will find the refuge in serenades.
The feline grace jars the sexism
by sitting on the fence.
A blue ocean will churn out
the urn of lethal poison.
That flame. Can you kill
the wolf? The tricks of
child-molesting were
on the big screen.
poem by Satish Verma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Professional Judgement
Hating an abhorrent man will judge him,
It is yesterday since the hats of scholars
Were donned, and worn by the scholars.
Followers of a teaching or doctrine find
A simple peace, full of joy and happiness.
They donned their caps for a final time
Since the time of celebration.
The hats of a profession were ornaments
And their professors acted wisely.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
When Death
(Yet another early work - one month shy of 17)
When death is coming up your walk,
And you're unaware of his escence,
You invite him in, and have a talk
Which reeks of omniprescence
When death is sitting in your home
And you're enchanted by his smile
He's been to places like Paris and Rome,
You ask him to stay awhile
When death is leaning very near,
And your house is all aglow,
He whispers something in your ear,
You know it's time to go
When death is touching you all around
And he plays within your head,
You cannot see, nor hear a sound,
You know you'll soon be dead
When death becomes a part of you,
In the still of night
There is nothing you can do,
Until you see the light
When death takes you to the place
Where you'll see the light,
You will not find a familiar face,
But you'll be too tired to fight
When death begins to say good bye
And says you're on your own
You watch the light, and then you sigh -
You see how bright it's grown
When death gets up, and walks through the light
(Which feels like half-melted ice)
You follow him through to discover your plight
And find you're in paradise
poem by Michael Troy Buffo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Unread
Unread the faces in the street
That cross and cross the path
Where they meet, and do not meet
The eyes unseen
There, there are windows without souls
But two feet mark the spot
And on they go
casting their lot beneath them
Like an afterthought
Can you see the lines in her skin?
See the colour fading from his hair?
The old lady in the street who talks to her imaginary friend?
The lover and the stranger
Share the same seat in the park
Exchanging looks and numbers
The old man with a parting centrefold
'I grow old I grow old'
Do you see these unseen things?
The automatic gestures?
The tarnished rings?
The bell that tolls?
Ringing in the godless?
Ringing in the godly?
They all share the same seat
Break bread
But do not speak
Or see
The wonder of their skin
The same blood shared
The same hunger
Just beneath the all seeing
Unseen eye
The window without a soul
The souless window
All pressing in
crossing paths
line upon line
Written on skin
faces without maps
Feet without direction
catching the last bus home
After 'callling time'
So much crowding in
So much being alone
yvette smith june 09
poem by Yvette Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A panorama with arches…
Arches, arches, arches
Arches of lips, palates, eyes, eyebrows
Arches of hearts, minds, kisses,
Indignities, obedience’s,
Arches of dreams, skies, stars, waters
Arched bridges that make me easier to reach you
More quickly than one single arc
Arched of words, that goes so smoothly
When they fly in arch style between us
Arches under sustained bridges of our love
And, I get thirsty oftentimes for them…
Vasil Marku 2012
poem by Vasil Marku
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Tell Me
Tell me, tell me, tell me what hides behind my skin—
Like whatever's in a window when you're in a room
Watching the curtains flutter in the wind.
Tell me how the weather is
When you're looking outside to somewhere open
With cloudless skies and blue space covering.
Tell me if it's warm where you come from
Or where my thoughts of you come from,
And tell me if the sun drapes over the horizon
And deep into the orange, dusted canyons.
Tell me if there is something
Like a garden, blooming with the spring
Of my youth, next to something sort of like an ocean,
Or something relaxing, with the waves parting,
And something I like, though I don't know what that is.
Tell me about the white nowhere
That percolates through my pores and from my dreams,
And between the no language of tongue speak,
And blank canvases and whatever I wondered
Would remind me of you.
poem by Tim Stensloff
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!