Golden Valley
Blackened silence was holding the reflectivity,
reality was on the run.
Exile was complete.
Dark secrets, standing on head
remained buried in your chest
absorbing all colors of sun.
A night remembers the friends
who went over the hills one by one
to find the pugmarks of panther
that was killing your infant biographies.
The world stood bodyguard
not allowing any immortality.
Your speech was clear, but unheard
in terror of burnt-out principles.
New sleeping cells are coming up for a
metaphysical revolt. A heron was
stabbed by soaring kites
in the golden valley.
poem by Satish Verma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Dead Boys Poem
The child sits and weeps,
How could this be all that matters,
Why did this have to hurt so deep,
How could this be life?
The child sits with the pain inside,
He sits with his heart in his chest,
‘How could I have died? ’
Is all he thinks, he forgets the rest.
The child’s eyes closed so tight,
His fists clenched so strong
He feels the night,
He knows everything that happened was wrong.
The child stands and looks into the houses light
He stares at not the window,
Not at the sight,
Yet only for the weeping widow.
The child stands holding the gun,
The gun he died holding,
As he remembers his father killing him, his only son
He remembers his father scolding.
He knows he took a life,
Yet he knows his father took his,
He remembers not the taking of his father’s life,
Only the pain of his father stealing his.
His eyes so dark,
His mind so lost,
His hand tracing deaths mark,
As he remembers it’s cost.
He remembers the scene, the time,
He remembers the look in his father’s face,
He remembers doing the crime,
He remembers seeing the pain in his father’s face.
But then his memory stops,
And reality takes place,
For this is when he dropped,
This is when life left his face.
He walks past,
To eternity; to roam
Of all his memories this shall be his last
For this is the dead boy’s poem.
poem by Bethany Maxwell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Exile In Majestic Silence
EXILE IN MAJESTIC SILENCE
esspeecee
# Exile in silence,
Majestic silence
Silence, but not to:
blunt senses.
To sharpen…
be more eloquent…
be greater creative…
inside the within,
and within….
[Silence is golden] #
# ‘No-Entry’ board:
to din and bustle,
to topsy turvy,
One way traffic,
Bubbles of subconscious,
For synthesis / creation.
[Silence is golden] #
# In silence,
I discover:
my dichotomous me:
material me,
subtle me,
soul,
mind.
Enjoy - emancipation,
Identity / Reality
Total nihilism,
Void ness in pan-existence
[Yes! Silences is golden] #
Copyright reserved by the Author
poem by Dr. Sakti P. Chakravorty
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Cannot Open The Loop
When I am completely denuded
Of my tremors,
I come at peace with my skin.
Burnt by raw blaze of reality
The brilliant confusion of today.
Promising night
selects the partners of grief.
Vacantly I fix my eyes on stars.
The words will never convey the silence
the mystery of eternal search
amongst the ruins of dreams.
Tongue falters on recitation of factuality
Over coming the rage.
Fatal dichotomy of life and death
starts sleepwalking.
Gulf widens the shores
seeking in metaphysical depth.
Speech does not bring solace
mathematics cannot open the loop.
poem by Satish Verma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Hoping Youre Making It Too - So Low B-side
Dont let my feet get off the ground
Today Im glad to be standing here
But all the time I spent tunnelling down
To some place where Im not so clear
Ive been holding out for this time
Standing straight in my own line
Was hoping youre making it too
All the hours we were learning to fly
Were chasing night-lights round the room
I can never repay when I learnt from you
I know youre seeing it your own way too
Your head just went for another walk
But its coming home and it hangs in the hall
Your head in your hand as youre suffering
But you I know what state youre in
Fall on my knees and my hair rolls around
But even on my knees I know I can stand
If its coming home its coming for you
I can see me standing with dunston and you
Ive been holding out for my neighbour
Standing straight for my brother
Was hoping youre making it too
song performed by by Ocean Colour Scene
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Memory of Water (for Scarlet)
Water remembers you
falling now on your sleeping face
waking you from dreams
with its surprise
after you fell asleep
at your first pinic.
Water remembers your childish
laughter.
Water remembers you
holding your body
in its body
as you learn not to fear it
as you learn the words float...sink...swim.
Water remembers you
becoming its friend.
Water remembers you
diving into its honeymoon waters
becoming fishes....kisses
lasting from here to eternity.
Water remembers two
delerious skinnydippers.
Water remembers you
crying in its rain
sobbing 'I'll never fall in love again! '
as if you were an old 1950's tune.
Water remembers such tears
hiding them in its rain.
Water remembers you
laughing in the rain
having fallen in love again
so quick to change
your tune.
Water remembers you
laughing here we go again.
Water remembers you
soaking wet in a sudden thunder storm
flowers held in your hand
having lost their heads
presenting her
with nothing but stalks.
Water remembers you
having to wear her old dress
as she dried your clothes.
Water remembers
kisses lost amonst the roar of a fire.
Water remembers you
& is saddened to find you
with no answers
with no questions
here on this bridge
reflecting itself
here in its depths
where only silence lives
holding you
as before
only water
remembers your death.
poem by Dónall Dempsey
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
All Clear
They swarmed the skies like angry hornets,
the war birds in the air above.
There were so many,
at times they blocked out the sun.
Then their parcels of death,
started raining all around,
killing the innocent on the ground.
The earth shook, buildings crumbled,
hysteria filled each breath of air.
Footsteps ran in every direction,
away from the falling terror.
Speech was drowned,
in crashes and crackling flames.
Within in minutes nothing looked the same,
the horizon looked crooked and jagged,
dust and smoke burnt the eyes
of anyone standing near.
Then a blanket of silence fell,
as a solitary siren pierced the air,
with the sound of all clear.
(17 October 2007/My interpretation of what it might have been like during the London Blitz of the 1940’s.)
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
SS-3
Ancient crown placed on your head
The hangman of Prague
Seven keys to the chamber
Surrendered to the God
Hunting
Fighting
Killing whore
Wade through blood and spill some more
Hunting
Fighting
Killing whore
Wade through blood and bleed some more
Golden door submits secrets
As this nation falls
Atmosphere of deadly terror
Subservient to all
Hunting
Fighting
Killing whore
Wade through blood and spill some more
Hunting
Fighting
Killing whore
Wade through blood and bleed some more
Burning sense of mission
Assassination
Symbol of oppression
Crusade from exile
Obliteration
Sabotaged campaign
Check resistance from afar
Planning the death of one
When the plot is executed
There will be nowhere to run
Ramafications will be high
A price paid in torment
The end justifies the means
To hell you will be sent
The wolf leader now is the stalked
Expansion state of horror
Guns echo over the grave
A thousand fates are sealed
Murderous power brought to an end
Only to rise again
Cold and ruthless and iron will
Protectorate of the dead
A thorough sweep
Prelude to death
Secrets kept
But no one left
Firing squad
Begins their work
Harsh reprisal
For what you took
Retribution selective terror
The stench of death is everywhere
A severed head
A floating mass
Will give me the answers to what I ask
song performed by by Slayer from Divine Intervention
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Blackened...
blackened steel...
blackened faces,
blackened hearts,
blackened roads...
blackened eyes,
blackened dreams,
blackened prayers,
blackened gods...
blackened memories,
blackened fingers,
blackened windows,
blackened rooms...
blackened thoughts,
blackened nails,
blackened shovels,
blackened tomb!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Place Between
Where and how to find immortal soul;
or self; eternal witness; eye of God;
or place, or space, within the eager heart
where All, or One, may hide – or may await?
So where to find first clue; or some frayed end
of golden thread that leads to golden light?
Not in the wrinkled brow… but in the simplest things
the greatest secrets wait, as we are told;
in the magic land that’s called Between:
Between the end of one thought, and the next,
as it is formed within the mind – the briefest space
where nothing but the witness of our self
rests, perfect, pure, complete, within itself;
inviting us to join that rest for just as long
as we enjoy this satisfaction
of the presence of ourself;
And if that taste of presence pleases -
then, between each word we hear or speak,
we’ll find the silence of ourself; and find
how each word comes from silence, and returns;
and as we relish and besport in that great space,
from greater silence, greater words may come..
There is no limit to that world, Between:
we’ll find it more and more, within all things,
beyond all things; it is the music of our life
which sings its song through thought and speech and act;
a music in a boundless space, so vast
that we may meet our greater self – at last!
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Down in the dark
Down in the dark, it’s all in my head,
The pain the sorrow, all of the dread,
I want it to leave, but it wants to stay,
I try and I try, but he won’t go away,
There by day, there at night,
Saying the things, that fills me with fright,
I’m down in the dark, it fills my head,
The pain the sorrow, all of the dread,
He’s always around, lurking inside,
Watching; waiting, my hands are tied,
In my head, always near,
In my thoughts, building the fear,
Down in the dark, filling my head,
The pain the sorrow, all of the dread,
The pain; it grows, bursting within,
The dark; he’s back, with his terror filled grin,
“I’ll help”; he says, talking to me,
“I know what to do, just come and see, ”
Down in the dark, it filled my head,
The pain the sorrow, all of the dread,
My thoughts are violent, with sorrow in my chest,
I just close my eyes, and hope for the best,
He tells me good job, I’ll find the light,
But my life is ending, with the chill of the night.,
Dead in the dark, lost in my head,
No more pain or sorrow, not even dread….,
poem by Jacob Hill
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
For My Dream (song)
A sea of grass I haven't seen
is swaying and rustling in silver
The scenery at the boundary near dreams and consciousness
(CHORUS)
Is it in order to meet you?
Or is it for the eyes of someone I haven't seen yet?
I'll continue, dividing the wind
For my dream…..
The alarm clock will ring soon, right?
But what lies ahead might still be a dream
No matter where you are, your important things don't change, you know
(Sittin' in the silence...everlasting night breeze...)
Even though I wake up, I'm sure I'll still be here
(Sittin' in the silence...everlasting night breeze...)
I think that might be what they call courage
Sittin' in the silence...everlasting night breeze...
(I believe...I deceive...I relieve...)
Sittin' in the silence...In my...
Sittin' in the silence...everlasting night breeze
(I believe... I deceive... I relieve...)
It's just too dark to see......
Sittin' in the silence...In my...
I threw away the piece of my heart because I didn't want to cry
Now it chases me and I can't breathe
And the reality I clung to withers and falls apart, piece by piece
Right now, I just can't see very well......
Sittin' in the silence...everlasting night breeze...
Everlasting night breeze…
Sittin' in the silence...everlasting night breeze...
It's because whether it's reality or a dream, it will just confuse you
Everlasting night breeze..
Sittin' in the silence...
There are bends in the road at the top of the hill, but I want to go further
Beyond the scenery that exists only in music
It's just too dark to see...
In the continuing dream, there's another dream
Like a maze with seven colors
For the sake of finding a song on a reed pipe without scales
Even if it's too wide and my eyes become tired
Even if I sing too much and my throat becomes dry
With that sea of grass I haven't seen, I'll...
Even if you disappear...
It's just too dark to see...
Sittin' in the silence...
Sittin' in the silence...
Sittin' in the silence... Everlasting night breeze...
Sittin' in the silence...
For my dream
Sittin' in the silence... Everlasting night breeze...
It's just too dark to see...
Sittin' in the silence...
FOR MY DREAM~!
(CHORUS) (X2) ~!
im sittin in my silence!
poem by Annie Tuck
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Quiet
Waiting for the voice
The sound of silence
The secrets, the heart beat
The autumn is gone
Where are the birds hiding
When are the flowers blooming
The winter is coming
with no snow
For the sunshine sleeping
For the sea in the night
All in dark, all in depress
How can I pray for the happiness
Pray for the romance
Pray for the spring
Why Me
Why me? was the question running down my spine Why me? so i asked myself Why me? Why me? my heart was panting for an answer Why me? my brain could not find an answer at last it gave a reasonable one that made a lot of meaning I am left in a lonely world, to make me to reason that this world is not worth living Boko Haram sect became a terror Vampire they became over night sucking human blood at will killing innocent victims with out impunity The people turn to shred, through the bomb blast killing them for nothing No shelter to live for survival No food to eat for the day No water to sustain life in turbulence A country we see without a government When people are wiped out of existence, the government will rule the dust of the earth with a pity The government can only pity those that are dead and buried Their people suffer brain touch, heavy heart, crying eyes with out control They suffer without care from the government Why me? was my question do we call this a government The government that sleeps when the houses are on fire Fire the houses are burnt to black dust and crumbs as we touch it again and again Mend are threatening to carry firearms to fight the government that cannot run state affairs The government is sleeping while her house is on fire My country Nigeria is on fire, sitting on the keg of gun powder blasting in the air and we can do nothing
poem by Olayemi Ayo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Voice Of The Voiceless
Through steel walls
Your voice is blastin' on
True rebel my brother Mumia
I reflect upon
You be tha spark
That set all tha prairie fires on
Make tha masses a mastodon path
To trample tha fascists on
At fifteen exposed Philly's finest killing machine
With boots and mad guns
They tried to pacify you young
Cause and effect
Smell tha smoke and tha breeze
My panther my brother
we are at war until you're free
You'll never silence tha voice of tha voiceless
You see the powerful got nervous
Cause he refused to be their servant
'Cause he spit truth
That shook heads
And burned like black churches
Prose and verses
At million poor in hearses
Watch tha decision of Dred Scott
As it reserves
So long as tha rope
Is tight around Mumia's neck
Let there be no rich white life
We bound to respect
Cause and effect
Can't ya smell tha smoke in tha breeze
My panther my brother we are at war until you're free
You'll never silence tha voice of tha voiceless
And Orwell's hell a terror era coming through
But this little brother's watching you too
song performed by by Rage Against The Machine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
In The Blanket
The night is waning, consuming itself,
All residents of the world,
Are latent, resting their heads
Upon the arms but here far away from her
I weep holding the hem of her recollections.
She might be sleeping unruffled,
Dishevelling hair upon her shoulders
Placing her head upon the beloved chest,
And snuggling in the blanket of someone.
Then why should I blubber sobbingly,
And languish and pine away for nothing.
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Second Best
Here in the dark, O heart;
Alone with the enduring Earth, and Night,
And Silence, and the warm strange smell of clover;
Clear-visioned, though it break you; far apart
From the dead best, the dear and old delight;
Throw down your dreams of immortality,
O faithful, O foolish lover!
Here's peace for you, and surety; here the one
Wisdom - the truth! - 'All day the good glad sun
Showers love and labour on you, wine and song;
The greenwood laughs, the wind blows, all day long
Till night.' And night ends all things.
Then shall be
No lamp relumed in heaven, no voices crying,
Or changing lights, or dreams and forms that hover!
(And, heart, for all your sighing,
That gladness and those tears are over, over. . . .)
And has the truth brought no new hope at all,
Heart, that you're weeping yet for Paradise?
Do they still whisper, the old weary cries?
‘’Mid youth and song, feasting and carnival,
Through laughter, through the roses,as of old
Comes Death, on shadowy and relentless feet,
Death, unappeaseable by prayer or gold;
Death is the end, the end!’
Proud, then, clear-eyed and laughing, go to greet
Death as a friend!
Exile of immortality, strongly wise,
Strain through the dark with undesirous eyes
To what may lie beyond it. Sets your star,
O heart, for ever! Yet, behind the night,
Waits for the great unborn, somewhere afar,
Some white tremendous daybreak. And the light,
Returning, shall give back the golden hours,
Ocean a windless level, Earth a lawn
Spacious and full of sunlit dancing-places,
And laughter, and music, and, among the flowers,
The gay child-hearts of men, and the child-faces
O heart, in the great dawn!
poem by Rupert Brooke (1908)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
Vote! | Copy!
Home To You
Heart is feeling like a sunbeam
In a distant land
I am soaring cross the surface
Coming home to you
You are far away from me
I’m holding like a song
Love song in the tailing wind
Coming home to thee
Sunshine in the window glass
Face in golden light
Planet surface under me
Flying home to you
See the home in hearting sound
See you there for me
Feel the distant starry sky
Sailing home to you
Wind is tugging at the wings
Banking on the breeze
On the back of bird in sky
Soaring home to thee
Bird is flying to the place
Of planet earthing line
Moving to the grounding place
Moving home to you
Landing on the tar place run
Sinking on the land
I am here my beauty one
Coming home to you
Heart is pounding, you are there
On the surface place
Heart is soaring like a bird
Beating home to you
Hand is stretching out to you
You your gentle touch
Feel it burning on my skin
Holding home to you
Arms around me, round me here
Body holding firm
Spirit soaring like a sail
You are here with me
Walking to the home place laughter
Hands in moving rhyme
You are with me, you are here
I am home with you.
poem by Jonathan Drane
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Blind Boon
Bore me my mother for months nine,
Having own dreams in the world of mine,
With zeal to make me a complete man
She alone I say had crossed horizon.
Her ambition about son seems pure as heaven
Her heart oh god! Is purest of pure even
She is the living god I am for sure
Then the day came for me but in dark
In doctors arms’ crying for light was I
But who understands! ! ! I see only night
Complained the man then
Blind is your son, dream now if you can
My mother as I feel was hurt deep
She has still her ambitious oath keep
She says me today regarding “lucky”
Son you see a world very different and worthy
The dark black sky is that I see
All around the world from head to knee
The seven colors of the nature
Is the life of my worlds lustre
I see my own flowers and gardens
Enjoying the colored seas and dark dens
My own people, my own world,
My own….. My own…………. my own…………………….
Tears do still tickle down my cheek
When my heart says being weak
What if I own a golden world?
I cannot see one who gave me birth
In this regard I fail to reserve my berth.
Jealous I am of those who read this
For being gifted with eyes to see your mom with out miss! ! ! ! ! !
poem by BhanuPrakash Singh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
My Father’s Son
Once
when I was still a baby boy
obsessed, thrilled with dark night sky
father said, shut your eyes tightly
then sailed I into dark night sky
dreaming of my arms
dipping in deep, dark-blue velvety
palpating golden sheen of the golden full moon
snatching twinkling stars.
But
i fell like lead
just before hard ground
to my father’s arms- veinated, calloused
his chirped nails safely grabbed
then
i opened my eyes
stretching my empty arms, pink nails
for a earnest glimpse of
a dip of deep, dark-blue velvety
golden sheen of the golden full moon
snatched twinkling stars.
and I felt sad.
Then-
father buried his head on my nape
his grizzly beard tickling my face
making little ‘blurp’ ‘blurp’ sounds
my shrill laughter
accosting his deep throaty laughter
echoing my disappointment into dark night sky
before sailing me into dark night sky
back to his rough-gentle arms
again
again
and again
to dip in deep, dark-blue velvety
palpate golden sheen of the golden full moon
snatching twinkling stars.
“Drink all Ma’s omena* soup
to be taller, reach the dark night sky”
father said, following my gaze
into the dark night sky
static radio bleating reggae
golden full moon bathing us in golden sheen
just me and my father
sleeping in his rough-gentle arms
dreaming of my arms
dipping in deep, dark-blue velvety
palpating golden sheen of the golden full moon
snatching twinkling stars
poem by Manuel Odeny
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Blessed
CUMHAL called out, bending his head,
Till Dathi came and stood,
With a blink in his eyes, at the cave-mouth,
Between the wind and the wood.
And Cumhal said, bending his knees,
'I have come by the windy way
And learn to pray when you pray.
'I can bring you salmon out of the streams
And heron out of the skies.'
But Dathi folded his hands and smiled
With the secrets of God in his eyes.
And Cumhal saw like a drifting smoke
All manner of blessed souls,
Women and children, young men with books,
And old men with croziers and stoles.
'praise God and God's Mother,' Dathi said,
'For God and God's Mother have sent
The blessedest souls that walk in the world
To fill your heart with content.'
'And which is the blessedest,' Cumhal said,
'Where all are comely and good?
Is it these that with golden thuribles
Are singing about the wood?'
'My eyes are blinking,' Dathi said,
'With the secrets of God half blind,
But I can see where the wind goes
And follow the way of the wind;
'And blessedness goes where the wind goes,
And when it is gone we are dead;
I see the blessedest soul in the world
And he nods a drunken head.
'O blessedness comes in the night and the day
And whither the wise heart knows;
And one has seen in the redness of wine
The Incorruptible Rose,
'That drowsily drops faint leaves on him
And the sweetness of desire,
While time and the world are ebbing away
In twilights of dew and of fire.'
poem by William Butler Yeats
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!