Nailed
eyes will chew the words
i will not see all day along, do you hear
my thoughts in the icicles of flames, my bones
jutting out of knuckles,
i will go to memory lane once again:
where the stale smell of yellow pages
throws up invisible thighs groping for support
climbing in vain,
half moon floating on lake of tears
in fire of dark night –
drenched, he was escaping without legs
in white darkness of unaddressed pain,
sorrow of locked shame …..
victim of blisters on blasting flesh,
knees give way,
what was the date of surrender,
i was meditating on the ashes of serpents
beneath the ocean of protests in voyage
of solitude, as your lips quiver
in resilience of benign submission
poem by Satish Verma
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Related quotes
Inbetween, We Live!
the human heart feeds...
we are born hungry, born searching,
born needing, born wanting....
left alone on an island...
we lift our beaks to the sky,
gulping for flesh, gulping for air,
gulping for fire....
still smelling of ocean,
and something dark we cant name,
we run into the open,
running, not knowing where.
i cannot live
without the taste of darkness,
the smell of flesh,
and the touch of that
which is hidden...
i shout into the ocean,
and hear only the roar...
i leap from the ledge,
forgetting my wings!
i need a small fire,
and the secrets that curtains tell windows.
my lips need the grain
of soul on soul.
my body burns,
i listen for the prayer of ashes,
ashes that tremble
on the hearth alone.
i need body and eyes,
most of all eyes...
the curve of the breast,
coming and going with the tides.
i need legs and dampness,
conversation without words...
i need to remember
that i am alive.
the quiet walks in the rain,
with god as our partner.
barking with the dogs,
stopping to touch a blade of grass.
the feel of nearness,
the breath of companion....
we are born and die alone,
inbetween, we live!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Soul Dies
Sky overcast, moon was sad.
Ashes were sent to the lake.
Who killed the bird in morning rain?
Ashes were sent to the lake.
A hidden slaughterman did not die.
Ashes were sent to the lake.
The good old name now spells the doom.
Ashes were sent to the lake.
I will call you in pitch-dark night.
Ashes were sent to the lake.
Ascending gods have ruined my life.
Ashes were sent to the lake.
A child was stolen from a mother’s bed.
Ashes were sent to the lake.
poem by Satish Verma
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Seduction Surrender
Way deep in the night, the voice of love is calling,
(so) clear is the darkness, that reflects your face,
Born out of love, locked in desire,
The heat from your fire, seduction,
Cries fill the dark, I feel your embrace,
Losing control, surrender!
Oh oh, I hear love calling. oh oh the voice of love,
Hard is the flesh, soft is the night,
The rhythm of my heart beats like a drum,
The language of my body moves to a time,
The rhythm of desire like fire.
Oh oh, I hear love calling, oh oh the voice of love,
Oh oh, I can hear love calling, oh oh the voice of love,
I will be wrapped inside your love, I will be right within your love,
I will be wrapped inside your love,
Seduction surrender Ill always remember.
Locked inside your love, I will be right inside your love,
I will be wrapped within your love,
Seduction surrender, Ill always remember.
Oh oh, I hear love calling, oh oh, the voice of love,
Oh oh, I can hear love calling, oh oh the voice of love,
I will be wrapped inside your love, I will be right inside your love,
I will be wrapped inside your love,
Seduction surrender Ill always remember.
Locked inside your love, I will be there within your love,
I will be wrapped inside your love,
Seduction surrender Ill always remember,
Locked inside your love, I will be there within your love,
I will be wrapped inside your love(echoes),
Seduction surrender Ill always remember.
Seduction,
Seduction!!!
song performed by by Grace Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Travelling down memory lane
Traveling down memory lane
is not all black 'n white.
Traveling down memory lane
is not all lacking light.
Traveling down memory lane
is not eye filled with tears.
Traveling down memory lane
brings fresh and soothing air.
Traveling down memory lane
is love & pain, fun with friends.
Traveling down memory lane
is full of curves and bends.
Traveling down memory lane
is a test of time and mind
Traveling down memory lane
is a joy of it's kind.
poem by Ralph Acosta
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Moonlight Sestina
While reading Li Po, I fall
Asleep, and dream of the moon
My body lies on white
Cool sheets, flooded in a pool
Of moonlight. Lost in a dream
I lie in light, floating.
Like a full moon floating
On waves, I feel the fall
And rise, the tide of these dream
Currents. Closer, the moon
Approaches to my pool
Of flesh, shining me white.
From the glare of waxing white,
Gauze curtains – breeze floating -
Shield this rippling pool,
Become a waterfall,
And break the mirror moon-
Light through wet prisms, I dream.
Is this Shechinah? my dream
Self asks. At once the cold white
Chills me to ice. The moon
Swells until it's a floating
City, waiting to fall -
Atlantis – in the pool.
I yearn to be that pool
Skin, transparent as dream.
Instead I fear the moon fall:
I cannot part the white
Sea of thighs, Still floating
Whole, I cry to the moon:
“I am not ready, Moon”
Silence shimmers my pool,
But brightness fades, Floating
Away. Then from the dream
I emerge, weeping white
Tears that shine like star-fall.
Li Po's moon plunge sank dream
Deep. Whirlpool of lunar white
Drowns us; floating, we fall.
poem by Lillian Susan Thomas
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Zero Hour
It was night’s fury
whipping up hysteria
on specks of flames, dancing in pain.
On a heap of ashes
and bones where a child of death
will be born.
Before fading,
moon will kiss the golden thighs
of sun and think aloud
dying shirtless in intimate
ambit of sky.
poem by Satish Verma
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Joan Of Arc
Now the flames they followed joan of arc
As she came riding through the dark;
No moon to keep her armour bright,
No man to get her through this very smoky night.
She said, Im tired of the war,
I want the kind of work I had before,
A wedding dress or something white
To wear upon my swollen appetite.
Well, Im glad to hear you talk this way,
You know Ive watched you riding every day
And something in me yearns to win
Such a cold and lonesome heroine.
And who are you? she sternly spoke
To the one beneath the smoke.
Why, Im fire, he replied,
And I love your solitude, I love your pride.
Then fire, make your body cold,
Im going to give you mine to hold,
Saying this she climbed inside
To be his one, to be his only bride.
And deep into his fiery heart
He took the dust of joan of arc,
And high above the wedding guests
He hung the ashes of her wedding dress.
It was deep into his fiery heart
He took the dust of joan of arc,
And then she clearly understood
If he was fire, oh then she must be wood.
I saw her wince, I saw her cry,
I saw the glory in her eye.
Myself I long for love and light,
But must it come so cruel, and oh so bright?
song performed by by Leonard Cohen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fragment
Moon of leaves,
Moon of the falling leaves,
To you I bring the slippers
of the sun.
That you may dance upon the
floor of sun,
My lady carries sun within her eyes.
Moon of the Unrevealed,
Moon of the gold-encrusted shield,
To you I bring the fragment
of my prayer.
Moon of the crinkled hair,
Tell me, will my lady yield
Eyes and mouth and breasts unsealed?
Will my lady yield?
Moon of the yellow streaked with red,
Moon that the sun would lead to bed,
Moon with the death's head
More than dead,
Why do you frighten the Goddess of Love,
Whose frail white fingers are moving above
The lover's white body lost in his love?
Moon, you are more than dead.
Moon of the ermine loist in the snow,
Moon of the frozen furbelow,
Moon of the nothingness here below,
Moon, you must go.
It is the Sun that tells you so-
Moon, you must go.
And I was dark beneath the moon,
And you were dark beneath the moon,
And we were dark beneath the moon.
Now I am gold beneath the sun,
Now you are gold beneath the sun,
Now we are gold beneath the Sun.
poem by Harry Crosby
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Innerspace
The moon was full last night
Enlightening the midnight sky-
My inner demons were dancing
Fighting ghosts from hell-
I tell myself
“Someday you will find peace of mind and
Someday you shall find yourself-“
I cannot recall the day
I had fallen off that mountain
I was climbing trying to gain control-
I found myself falling, falling and falling-
Into a prison where the floors were tiled,
Walls were white but stained-
I can still hear sirens screaming and the
Pounding upon the walls-
I remember that room
Inside which I was locked and blinded by
The darkness overshadowing-
I begged for help with my heart wide open-
Figuratively bleeding tears of despair- as I heard
Voices threatening to kill me-
Echoing about the chamber of madness
Inside of which I was trapped-
Miles from reality-this place where
Whereas a prisoner inside of my mind, I was climbing that stairway from hell-
With no destination,
Falling, falling and falling-
Into bedlam-
I can only recall
Lying upon a mattress sadly torn,
Springs jutting outward into my back as
My body rocked
Backward and forward
Backward and forward
With monotonous regularity-
The moon was full last night-
It has often been said allegorically that
People lose their sanity dancing beneath
The light of the moon-
Following the path of a comet in some
Figment of my imagination as
My search continues to find out who I am-
As the moon disappears on the horizon
The sun rises over the mountains-
I see the light-
I hear a voice-
All I can do is to keep on dancing-
Dancing as I hope that
My Dionysian spirit
Shall set me free someday…
poem by Claudia Krizay
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Rose from my Love
Rose from my love,
My love the black dragon,
With teeth like daggers,
Claws of steel,
Scales of darkness,
And a soul of fire.
Do not raid the village,
Do not steal the maiden,
Just guard the rose,
My rose,
The rose of the dark moon.
Under the cloudy sky,
Surrounded by trees dead and charred,
Looking out at the frozen lake,
Remember me,
And wait for my return.
My sweet dragon,
Dragon of my dreams,
Your soul is dark like me,
Even when that fire goes out,
The rose will remain,
As a memory of our love,
But was that love in vain?
No, not in vain will I die,
I will die in the arms of my love,
My love Mokar,
Protector of my rose,
The rose of the dark moon,
The moon I was born under.
poem by Nicolette Gonzalez
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Climbing
Before sinking to knees.
I will talk to flowers.
Day of arrival has come.
In death, wisdom of trees
will eject the seeds
of fire on hip-locked roots.
A miracle will raise the bones
from the rage of crowd.
The king has agreed to depart.
Darkness sings in the
valley of sun.
Tongues are free to weave the moon.
Till the words are ready
to walk on street of sorrow
to remove the blood soaked prints.
poem by Satish Verma
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A wishful touch...
A wishful touch, soft and tender.
Then a whisper, full of desire
A sudden gasp of sweet surrender
As passion fuels the fire
No words spoken between them
No promises to be kept
No lies being told tonight
No looking back - no regret
Longing to hold each other
Such precious little time
Both vowed to another
Being lonely their only crime
The softness of your lips, whole
As they slide over mine
Taste like honey to my soul
As they take me back in time
Oh, the fire of your touch
Like hot silk on your tender breasts
The passion I crave so much
As I taste the nectar of your kiss
A Slowly drumming melody in my heart
Your skin like a river of light
My moan of pleasure as you start
Ecstasy I'd never fight
A lovers tune dances up my spine
As the shadow of my embrace
Slides across your thighs
Ohhh sooo slowly the pace
Our hearts mingled in rapture
The torture of passion so sweet
The affection of a thousand years
As at least we meet
Tomorrow maybe bringing sorrow
A brief moment of shame
With the memory of this one night
A release from passion's flames.
poem by Deep Dark Soul Poet
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Trvelling down the memory lane
Travelling down the memory lane
is not all black 'n white.
Travelling down the memory lane
is not all lacking light.
Travelling down the memory lane
is not eye filled with tears.
Travelling down the memory lane
brings fresh and soothing air.
Travelling down the memory lane
is college, fun and friend.
Travelling down the memory lane
is full of curves and bends.
Travelling down the memory lane
is a test of time and mind
Travelling down the memory lane
is a joy of it's kind.
Poet: Spandan Bhattacharyya
poem by Spandan Bhattacharyya
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My Swan Song
A vision of perfection, I must stare
Your arms, legs, your body, and your hair
With you I can find happiness
You are the one I want to caress
So it was written and so it must be told
It is you I want to have and to hold
At my window sat a single turtle dove
For I don’t want to live without your love
It rains all day since you are not here
My mind is in a daze no longer I see clear
On you all the money I would spend
I love you too much to ever be your friend
Your voice seems to mess up my brain
But I can’t wait to hear it again
I love all the things that you do
That is why I can’t wait to hear from you
Good morning sadness, please go away
Times I wonder how I make through the day
Please tell me how can I release the pain?
Knowing you’ll never come home again
I’m dieing inside without you here
I hunger for your love but do you even care
Loves fire I’m still burning
For your love I’m still yearning
My heart has been wounded very badly
But my life to you I would give gladly
My joy has gone I’m in a constant sad mood
Left behind to live a life of solitude
I gave you my best, I gave you my all
On my knees for you I would crawl
My love comes in all different kinds
But for you I would have died a thousand times
From God’s grace I fell
Pain and sorrow I know them well
I can’t sleep at night any more
Heart ache is my sickness and love’s the cure
I thought that you were special that certain kind
Now crazy thoughts run thru my mind
Dark as the night, cold as the winters
Closed the door, no love longer enters
Words them to sway you I can’t find
Cause you have left me so far behind
No one loves me, no one really cares
When you look back will I still be there
I hear the angels, I hear there call
Saying it’s better to have loved than not at all
From your love I will never recover
For you have been my one and only lover
My love freely I can never give away
I will always love you till the end of day
Darkness surrounds me now that you’re gone
Night cometh no longer the dawn
Pushed aside I’m no longer strong
For in your arms I truly belong
Remember the one that loved you no matter how you look
For my heart and soul is what you took
Young and innocent they have not a clue
So punish me but them too
Foolish is the man that thinks of no other
See the signs and remember the father
What you give is what you’ll get
For what you do one day you will regret
poem by Wilfred Mellers
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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
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Bianca
Her cheeks are hot, her cheeks are white;
The white girl hardly breathes to-night,
So faint the pulses come and go,
That waken to a smouldering glow
The morbid faintness of her white.
What drowsing heats of sense, desire
Longing and languorous, the fire
Of what white ashes, subtly mesh
The fascination of her flesh
Into a breathing web of fire?
Only her eyes, only her mouth,
Live, in the agony of drouth,
Athirst for that which may not be:
The desert of virginity
Aches in the hotness of her mouth.
I take her hands into my hands,
Silently, and she understands;
I set my lips upon her lips;
Shuddering to her finger-tips
She strains my hands within her hands.
I set my lips on hers; they close
Into a false and phantom rose;
Upon her thirsting lips I rain
A flood of kisses, and in vain;
Her lips inexorably close.
Through her closed lips that cling to mine,
Her hands that hold me and entwine,
Her body that abondoned lies,
Rigid with sterile ecstasies,
A shiver knits her flesh to mine.
Life sucks into a mist remote
Her fainting lips, her throbbing throat;
Her lips that open to my lips,
And, hot against her finger-tips,
The pulses leaping in her throat.
poem by Arthur Symons
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The thunder cat
In the bush I see a strange thing,
a secret cat
that like a phantom
follow our tracts, shadowing behind
leaving no tracts of its own.
Red eyes glow at night
with the intensity of a fire burning
but every time that I really look
it’s out of reach.
Around the orange-yellow fire
where we are barbequing the meat
from the day’s hunting
I can almost smell the monster
where it sneaks out of sight
around us.
I wonder what has awaken
in the wild veldt, the jungle
and what hell of a thing
we now have drawn
from its sleep?
My.308 rifle and hunting knife
both lie near to my side,
but something let me comprehend
that no usual weapons
will stand against this monster
but at that time I am still convinced
that it’s only imagination
and the tiredness, the party
at the fire
and my thoughts are playing with me.
Totally unconcerned we go to sleep
and with time the flames
burn lower and lower
and there are only glowing coals left.
When I wake up with a start
a bright moon is in the sky
and something strange
stand over me
and it looks part transparent
but still with a fixed
dark form.
I can smell death
on the breath of it
and see its teeth glittering
and it’s as if thunder
flames from its jaws
when it bites at me
and an urge for survival
let me jump from the ground
to the other side
of the glowing coals
and its teeth clash on each other.
Next to me lies a shovel
and some of the coals
still have small flames
and I see that the coals
make it hesitate for a moment.
Desperately I grab the shovel,
scoop if full of coals
and when the monster
opens its jaws again
to take another bite at me
and I get the rotten smell
of its foul breath
I throw the whole shovel
down its throat.
For a moment it roars thundering,
is filled with bright white thunderbolts
and stand ablaze
and looks like a thunder cat
before it disappears into the darkness
and becomes nothing
as if suddenly it’s in another dimension
and everybody stares at me
with eyes huge as saucers
and from the sand
I pick up two teeth
that shines strangely, like diamonds,
but with an unknown blue-white fire
glowing from the inside.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Between Hunger And Escape
Something was not polite in signs.
The smell of incarcerated bed of gods
was floating down.
A subdued shadow of black moon
was climbing on the window. And each
house had offered a son, to rage
a war of retribution. Malice towards
one and everybody, they were ready to cut the
hands who were holding the book.
Out of the ore comes out the gold, when
you use mercury. Vacant eyes have the
veils of tears. Dampness was melting the bones.
The mud on the face, a gift of birthday.
poem by Satish Verma
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Mourning The Deluge
Something was not polite in signs.
The smell of incarcerated bed of gods
was floating down.
A subdued shadow of black moon
was climbing on the window. And each
house had offered a son, to rage
a war of retribution. Malice towards
one and everybody, they were ready to cut the
hands who were holding the book.
Out of the ore comes out the gold, when
you use mercury. Vacant eyes have the
veils of tears. Dampness was melting the bones.
The mud on the face, a gift of birthday.
poem by Satish Verma
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Tears & Fire
Blue is the tears in my eyes
Red is the fire in my heart
The fire will never die out
The fire in my heart is what keeps me alive
The tears in my eyes is what makes me die.
If i could control the tears in my eyes
The flames in my heart I would
My heart is like a hell
I am caged inside
I can't escape my self, there is still rage inside my heart
The tears are my hopes and dreams fading away
They are my strength
They are my thoughts that keep me from dying
The flames in my heart are the pain and guilt that builds up inside
poem by Crystal Woods
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