Fly-trap
You are not me.
It was not gentle,
it was not sweet.
It was fire in the glass.
One yellow rose was opening up
in a very bright night.
I was shivering
under the leafless shade of hawthorn.
One surrogate mother
picks up the wormholes.
One tendril oscillates
to entwine the lover.
Stealthily, the sad moon slides
into the big bosom of clouds.
My eyes now search,
the bared, Venus fly-trap.
poem by Satish Verma
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Related quotes
Yellow Roses
Hello you said the day we met
Handing me a yellow rose
You asked me out
And to your surprise
And to mine I said Id go
I thought it so romantic
And I found you sweet and bold
Though wed only met
I still said yes
To a single yellow rose
And for years to come
You were the one
To sleep with me at night
To laugh and talk
And share my thoughts
And hold me when Id cry
And on every occasion
And for no good reason to
A big bouquet or a single yellow rose
Was sent from you
Chorus:
Yellow roses
The color of sunshine
You loved me at one time
Why did you have to go
Yellow roses
Are you sending your new love
My bright yellow rose buds
I still love you so
I never see a yellow rose
That I didnt think of you
Its still my favorite flower
Though the yellows turned to blue
The day you left my teardrops fell
Upon your farewell not
You said goodbye like you said hello
With a single yellow rose
Chorus:
Yellow roses
The color of sunshine
You loved me at one time
Why did you have to go
Yellow roses
Are you sending your new love
My bright yellow rose buds
Oh I still love you so
Yellow roses
The color of sunshine
You loved me at one time
Why did you have to go
Sweet yellow roses
Are you sending your new love
My bright yellow rose buds
I still love you so
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Surrogate Lover
You were so cold like the dead,
Your love silent as the grave,
Masquarading as cream while skim
Seldom care and love you gave
Scheming deception and great innuendo
Belittled, but was not in desparado
Your eyes as pure as eldorado,
Yet evil as of puff adder,
Tortured and tormented, I made a choice
Rise and wave your hand Delilah,
Goodbye my old time liar,
Belittling me I never got higher
Upon my love, your breath was fire
Pack your things or I pack,
Tortured and tormented, I walked away
My hands I opened for a surrogate lover,
My arms widely stretched and welcoming,
You broke my heart and she mended it
Come along, my sweet surrogate lover
Lets fly with the birds of the air,
With me you shall never despair,
Hold my hand for history is gone
You are all I need, yes you are the one
Growing apart with you Delilah
Growing together, surrogate lover
poem by Gaylord Munemo
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‘The Moon’ (a Parody of ‘The Sea’ by Natividad Marquez)
Why does the moon smile, mother
as it blooms above the sky.
Because the moon loves to observe, my dear
Those buddies passing by.
Why does the moon blanch, mother
As if someone disappeared?
He is saddened by the envious clouds
Because he is sheltered.
Why is the moon so bright, mother
As if it is just five kilometers at sight?
Because he wants hurl our anxious night
By shedding his formidable light.
poem by Borgjie Distura
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Fickle Moon
Will the moon come out tonight?
Will it show its big round face?
Or will it be covered by too many clouds
showing me just a trace?
Oh fickle moon, here one minute,
then you disappear,
just like a lover hangin' around,
then no longer here.
Oh fickle moon you brighten up the night.
You make me feel just fine.
My mood is happy. My smile is big
as long as I see you shine.
My lover is as changeable as the moon.
He's never in one place.
And I'm never sure when I search for him
if he'll show his big round face?
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Here Comes The Moon
Everybodys talking up a storm
Act like they dont notice it
But here it is and here it comes . . .
Here comes the moon, the moon, the moon, the moon, the moon.
Impulse always quickens when its full
As it turns my head around me
Yes it does and here it comes
Here comes the moon, the moon, the moon, the moon, the moon.
Gods gift I see thats moving up there into the night . . .
Though dark the mirror in the sky reflects us our light:
Looks like a little brother to the sun
Or mother to the stars at night
And here it is and here it comes
Here comes the moon, the moon, the moon, the moon, the moon.
Breath is always taken when its new
Enhance upon the clouds around it
Yes it is and here it comes
Here comes the moon, the moon, the moon.
song performed by by George Harrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Lullaby
The stars are twinkling in the skies,
The earth is lost in slumbers deep;
So hush, my sweet, and close thine eyes,
And let me lull thy soul to sleep.
Compose thy dimpled hands to rest,
And like a little birdling lie
Secure within thy cozy nest
Upon my loving mother breast,
And slumber to my lullaby,
So hushaby--O hushaby.
The moon is singing to a star
The little song I sing to you;
The father sun has strayed afar,
As baby's sire is straying too.
And so the loving mother moon
Sings to the little star on high;
And as she sings, her gentle tune
Is borne to me, and thus I croon
For thee, my sweet, that lullaby
Of hushaby--O hushaby.
There is a little one asleep
That does not hear his mother's song;
But angel watchers--as I weep--
Surround his grave the night-tide long.
And as I sing, my sweet, to you,
Oh, would the lullaby I sing--
The same sweet lullaby he knew
While slumb'ring on this bosom too--
Were borne to him on angel's wing!
So hushaby--O hushaby.
poem by Eugene Field
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Wintry Midnight Moon
Setting at night,
Through ghostly clouds,
Moving giving comfort,
To all those young 'uns,
Sleeping and dreaming of monsters,
Fairy-tales and sweet dreams.
Moon so silent, gentle
In the skies,
Joyful at being the one,
To watch over all,
Except over the suns territory,
They do swaps...
The brilliance of the white light,
The cheese up in the sky,
So peaceful to sit under,
The starry sky gazing at the moon,
In the night-time dew in the grass,
Have a glass of apple juice.
Take the 'cheers' to the moon,
For the light and beauty,
The loveliness about the moon,
For in this poem nothing bad is said,
The moons brilliance, relaxing the dead...
Through the winter midnight strikes,
Christmas day begins,
The moon shines to all extent,
The clouds wearing sunglasses to see the moon,
Never to block its rays,
In these numbered, wintery midnight days,
Which this wintery midnight moon so much enjoys,
As being the main part of this starry festival,
Keeping the tradition going...
poem by Viraj Bhanshaly
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The Wildwood Rose
O silver sky what wind does blow?
Across the moor to the wildwood rose
What snow does fall, the mountain’s wrath
Against the bright rose malice hath
O gentle rose, be not afeared
Thy humble strength to persevere
Where brutish strength and cunning fail
The meek and mild rose will prevail.
O wildwood rose, the river spray,
Does it wash thy tears away?
No boastful weed nor greedy vine
Would the wildwood rose entwine.
O wildwood rose, come hither soon,
I ask of you this simple boon.
Most favored of virtues, the last and the best,
Come to my heart, and there take your rest.
poem by Ryalis Elior
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Remembering
You shall read me
when I am gone
in green pain.
There had been gifts
unhanded.
Unwrap them in dark –
when moon was
yellow.
The beams will rub your body.
A bared stasis
will stop the fluids.
Wash your face with tears.
It seems a long time
when I touched your eyes.
My clouds would not find you.
poem by Satish Verma
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Moonset
Past seven o'clock: time to be gone;
Twelfth-night's over and dawn shivering up:
A hasty cut of the loaf, a steaming cup,
Down to the door, and there is Coachman John.
Ruddy of cheek is John and bright of eye;
But John it appears has none of your grins and winks;
Civil enough, but short: perhaps he thinks:
Words come once in a mile, and always dry.
Has he a mind or not? I wonder; but soon
We turn through a leafless wood, and there to the right,
Like a sun bewitched in alien realms of night,
Mellow and yellow and rounded hangs the moon.
Strangely near she seems, and terribly great:
The world is dead: why are we travelling still?
Nightmare silence grips my struggling will;
We are driving for ever and ever to find a gate.
'When you come to consider the moon,' says John at last,
And stops, to feel his footing and take his stand;
'And then there's some will say there's never a hand
That made the world!'
A flick, and the gates are passed.
Out of the dim magical moonlit park,
Out to the workday road and wider skies:
There's a warm flush in the East where day's to rise,
And I'm feeling the better for Coachman John's remark.
poem by Sir Henry Newbolt
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On a Fan of the Author's Design
Come gentle Air! th' AEolian shepherd said,
While Procris panted in the secret shade:
Come, gentle Air, the fairer Delia cries,
While at her feet her swain expiring lies.
Lo the glad gales o'er all her beauties stray,
Breathe on her lips, and in her bosom play!
In Delia's hand this toy is fatal found,
Nor could that fabled dart more surely wound:
Both gifts destructive to the givers prove;
Alike both lovers fall by those they love.
Yet guiltless too this bright destroyer lives,
At random wounds, nor knows the wound she gives:
She views the story with attentive eyes,
And pities Procris, while her lover dies.
poem by Alexander Pope
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All You Need
One sweet kiss that still does linger
on your lips, touched by a finger
is all you need to picture the face
of a lover that will linger.
One tender embrace you still can feel
on your body your arms entwine
is all you need to remember the one
that is your valentine.
One gentle smile you can picture still
in your mind or reverie
is all you need to recall the thrill
your lover gave to thee.
One soft touch that is felt by you
whenever you're alone
is all you need to keep you alive
'Til your lover comes back home.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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You”re Still You
The same hair curling on your head
At 49, you look younger,
There are no wrinkles on your forehead
The cheeks still smooth and tight
Your eyes still glow
Like fireflies reflected in the mirror
The moon against the sky
The way you talk defies the years of your absence
The way you look at me
Your way your gaze flies like a butterfly
Hovering back to me like tender hands
Of a woman
Caressing my face
Like golden yellow wing
Fluttering on the petals of a flower
Indeed, you are still you
Loving me
In gentle restraint and
I am deeply saddened
By my own kind of same
Usual indifference
Of the clouds drifting
Without even the thought
Of stopping by the
Peaks of trees
As you open yourself to the sun like
A tight bud opening its petals
Finally exposing its true gentle colors
A flower blooming
To the kindness of sunshine
And the freshness of the air
That this world can offer
I spread my wings like a yellow butterfly
Fluttering away to another garden
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Tears upon the moon
I search the night time sky
and find you
peeping through the clouds
that bind you
shades of midnight blue
surround you
I see tears upon the moon
I search your battered orb
and hear you
while mankind struggles
to be near you
disrupting moon dust thick
beneath you
I see tears upon the moon
I search your waxing and
your waning
manned journeys to the crater
gaining
only time will need
explaining
I see tears upon the moon
I search your face for signs
of pleasure
finding none and heed its
measure
resisting giving up its
treasure
I see tears upon the moon
poem by Evelyn Macdonald
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Sun Moon Night Cycle
The Moon has eyes
You can see her
peeping
through her window of night
Though once every month
you can see her at full face
And the morning will come
as the Moon silently gossips
to the sun
And the sun will see you
and all that you do
You cant hide from the suns
gentle rays
or the moonbeams shimmer
And the sun will set
and quietly gossip to the moon
of all that hes seen
And the cycle goes on
You cant hide
The Moon does have eyes
poem by Plague Rose
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Moon, We Look to You.
Moon, you have a shade of blue tonight –
Is it something that you saw or heard?
Only yesterday, your tone was proud and bright,
Yellow silver, full, and so assured.
Moon, despite the clarity of sky,
Metaphors of cloud that fluff with grey
Drift across your rounded face to spy;
Feeding back, there's awfully much to say.
Moon, you have a role to play up there –
We below must bear the earthly pain.
Duty bound, we shoulder sorrows fair –
You are free from our grotesque disdain.
Moon, we depend on you to shine
When the sun retires down below.
Add to that your grandest role divine:
Tidal Lord, to keep the seas in tow!
Moon, I hope you take to heart our plea –
Needless is the reason for your blue.
Beaming, you should give the night its glee:
We're despairing – so we look to you.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
Moon moon, moon so blue, moon, moon so blue
Moon moon, moon so blue, moon, moon so blue
Moon moon, moon so blue, moon, moon so blue
Moon moon, moon so blue, moon, moon so blue
Moon moon, moon so blue, moon, moon so blue
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Letting the Day Go
Sweet induced visions...
soothing fusion visitation:
Opulent emeralds – Day glow bright!
Fields of blossoming lime flowers!
– Chase away all tequila salt tensions form my shot glass eyes!
Sun Drops: : :)))
Dahlias: : : Violet star-
burst supernovas!)))
tender leaves of tendril clinging sage...
) Flutter –
ing(
eyes...somnolent smile ;)
well red beauty in red
reads Rimbaud's Illuminations...
...resting 'neath the willow shade...
(sleepy sun soaked scent too serene to
be disturbed...
A peace too precious to brake
with the clumsy handled pickup of my
hastened approach...)
...just sit …
...steeping …
poetic allure...
small sips...
leisured pen ….
Letting the day go.)
poem by Gregory Allen Uhan
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O My Baby.. Where Had You Gone? [ part-1 ]
[ Part-1 ]
A death had occured within me;
Alas!
Nevertheless from my depths
why a voice feebly coos?
My little bird lost itself in the vast skies...
Does it now search for me
helplessly with tearful eyes?
Lo.my bird!
Your mom from here tears herself in pitious cries...
With broken wings your mom
beat furiously upon her bosom, o dear..
All my mind skies have become deserted;
The misery dumps dense darkness
in the fields of my eyes..
There is no blood stream in my heart's noodle routes;
but only hot tears hurry through in steaming floods...
O my womb's precious fruit!
How i desired to collect you in my arms
the moment I lowered my sweet burden..!
How I readied myself with fluttering wings
to call you ' o my dear darling '!
Throwing dust on my chest
have you sought refuge in the bosom of earth?
Why have you forgotten to meet
the awaiting eyes of your mother?
Why have failed to call me, 'o ammaa '
in your first crying search of mom?
O..which merciless fingers have plucked away
my sweet little bud?
Millions of dreams have I picked up
one by one all these months
and strung them in cheer for your sake;
All have gone today in clouds of curling smoke.
[to be contd..]
poem by Sundaram Chandrakalaadhar
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I Tried To Open The Wide Book Of Night
I tried to open wide the book of night
To look into its eyes - like a lover
That pretended of his love confession as of right
And so to Hastings Gardens went I in the night.
Wide, wide before the long night stood
No corner stopped my glance no space
Its boundary showed and manifested
To my glance long tall continous lay the night
In its mischievous slumbering
Wherein it dreamt dreams I know not
Nor thereof heard the silent trees bespeak.
How many nights before me came
How many, many nights
And they were certes here like this night
As I look from the bastions to the sea
And fancy its silver bosom dance and gleam
In the moon’s amorous light to-night:
So gleamed the light on the sea-waves
When the French besieged and held
Our noble city: how many a lover
Stood looking on the sea and at his love
As mid-night in his satined robes tiptoed:
Rippling stood the waves and waters wild
And fancy its silver bosom dance and gleam
In the moon’s amorous light:
For years and years the welcome Briton stood
Perhaps here where stay I and his foot
Could be heard pace all sentinel
Into the dark glooms of silent night
From casements near opening on the seas
And houses nearby in dreaming bent
Through the long night, the long and weary night
That was of many nights that were
And will be of many nights that will
And when I stay not on the bastions and
Feel not the sea-breeze my face cool
Night after night will come and children small
Few years born will come and go:
And after children small will come again
Night after night will come and speak
Unto the rocks that front the sea
And playing with lapping sea-waves all the night
Unheard, unseen, unnoticed in the times
And in the flight of years and centuries full lost
And when night comes and still the sea
Will shine – its silver bosom dance and gleam
In the moon’s amorous light.
poem by Emmanuel George Cefai
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Night Bring Me My Lover
Night bring me my lover, night
Bring me my lover, night
The night has brought me you, ooooh
Night bring me my lover, night
Bring me my lover, night
The night has brought me you, ooh
Night, bring me my lover
Baby, night is sweet?
To each other thats the way we meet
I went all day for night to come
When I ? so easy
Do you want my lover, baby
Exchanging smiles and glances,
Just by to take my chances
Night bring me my lover, night
Bring me my lover, night
The night has brought me you, ooooh
Night bring me my lover, night
Bring me my lover, night
The night has brought me you, ooh
Night, bring me my lover
Youre the living cruel
To satisfy each other, thats the loving truth
One day is all I want belong to ? baby
Thats the way I found you, lover?
Each other
Nights brought us one another
Night bring me my lover, night
Bring me my lover, night
The night has brought me you, ooooh
Night bring me my lover, night
Bring me my lover, night
The night has brought me you, ooh
(Im so high) Im in love tonight
(so high) I think our love is so right
(so high) ? tomorrow-morrow
Night (bring me my lover)
Bring me my lover,
Night
(bring me my lover)
Bring me my lover, night
The night has brought me you, ooooh
Night (bring me my lover)
Bring me my lover, night
(bring me my lover)
Bring me my lover, night
The night has brought me you, ooh
Night (bring me my lover)
Bring me my lover, night
(bring me my lover)
Bring me my lover, night
The night has brought me you, ooooh
Night (bring me my lover)
Bring me my lover, night
(bring me my lover)
Bring me my lover, night
The night has brought me you, ooh
Night (bring me my lover)
Bring me my lover, night
(bring me my lover)
Bring me my lover, night
And night has brought me you, ooooh
Night (bring me my lover)
Bring me my lover, night
(bring me my lover)
Bring me my lover, night...
song performed by by Gloria Estefan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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