New Alphabet
Can your words find the color
and smell of a manslaughter
in an unholy stampede?
Head bowed, the handcuffed activism
walks on the street. Now pops
up the moon from forficated clouds.
A decoy was sitting on a tree
with a stunning gaze
to watch the lewd behavior ―
of a mirror engaged with a
self-portrait. Alphabetically
the breast milk spills ―
before you arrive without
mouth. A celebration
starts today for an unborn.
poem by Satish Verma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Graceful Celebration
Today is a graceful celebration
with shiny sunny skies, sparkling, glistening, gleaming
The celebration is in the company we keep.
The mood we meet in the morning
Today is a graceful celebration
angels flying in the sky
Today is a graceful celebration
fireworks going off in the twilight
Today is a graceful celebration
moon is peaking out of the clouds
Today was....a graceful celebration Tommorrow will even be better :)
poem by Kimberly Anderson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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The Caterpillars
the caterpillars all climb
line per line to claim
the topmost leaf
of the tree
and when they arrive there
they find out
that there is nothing after all
to eat and be merry
like a race for votes in poetry
there is nothing there
just speak your mind
and think of all the metaphors
that jibe with your sadness
or your joys
and your happiness and bliss
if you have them
show them
tell them that all your syllables
know how to dance
and that all your words know how
to sing
no matter where you are
whatever the limitations be
show the color of your lines
let them smell the scent of your stanzas
you may even tell a story
they too need something to appease them
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dark Language
Wanted to wear the grief uncrying,
sitting on the bank, counting the waves,
watching the swaying of earthen lamps.
There was a little water on the moon,
charged atoms settling in the lap of a sponge.
The water becomes the moon,
floating on goat’s milk.
My descent starts to find the truth.
Where the water has gone from the eyes?
The mirrors always tell the lie.
The headless body writhes in the dust,
words change the author of a murder.
A crowd finds a knife only.
Once again a century weeps!
Satish Verma
poem by Satish Verma
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Clouds Blow Away!
vomit stained lips quivering
on a street corner lost
between human and forgotten....
clouds blow away!
bloody feet children walking
behind despair blinded bodies
not even pretending to be alive.
clouds blow away!
gun in the belt rogues
behind blacked out windows
snorting forever dust, wild eyed....
clouds blow away!
old man eating canned dog food
with a rusted spoon,
sitting on a milk box, empty room...
clouds blow away!
young boy in the hole,
blood crusted swollen lips
cannot even cry in the darkness....
clouds blown across
....the face of the moon!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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A Killing
Buried at sea
the dead man lives, as if a blood
in a reliquary.
Remains of a day
were very volatile.The backlash
will start with a kiss of moon.
By the lack of a sin
you meet an ambush
lying in wait.
The severed hand will
hold the sunrise.
Who will write the epitaph?
A stunning breast, over your
reflection, the red rains
come for celebration.
poem by Satish Verma
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Unbroken
Tomorrow is another day,
So don't let today stop you.
Tomorrow is unbroken,
Even if today is shattered,
If you want to know how this day could end,
Look upon tomorrow and you will see profection,
Tomorrow is unbroken.
A child in the womb is another heart,
So don't let them fall before their time,
The unborn are unbroken,
Even if the people here are wrong,
If you want to see who they become,
Look upon everyone and you shall see change,
Unborn are unbroken.
Teens are another body,
So don't let them free before they are ready,
They are unbroken,
Even if some are lost,
If you want to keep them whole,
Look at them and show them the way,
While they are still unbroken.
Moonlight is just another light,
So don't shut it out,
It is unbroken,
Even if the surface of the water is moved.
If you want to see the man on the moon,
Open the window and gaze upon it,
For it shall always be unbroken.
poem by Bethany Maxwell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Think, I Know Myself
i think, i know
myself, ...i arrive
at the conclusion
of who i am, really,
when i look at you,
and i lift my
left hand to
hold the side of
my neck
my right hand
hidden inside
my pocket
i gaze at you that
long enough
you do not mind
there is no meaning attached
my hand caresses
my hair
my lips close my eyes open
my heart dancing
and you are
that event for this
celebration
i look at myself in the mirror
and say, ' a toast! '
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Cat with milk
My cat
Not drink milk...
For today...
Yester day
My cat was
Try drink hot
Of milk...
Hot was hit...
For my cat mouth...
Cat was did not cry...
Run away for hot
Milk pot...
So...
Today coll milk also
My cat did not drink...
O...
I am very soory
For hot milk...
Come to drink milk....
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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This Man He Weeps Tonight
I wish that you could see
All the things that I have seen.
This mind of mine is making life worthwhile.
I wish that youd have know
Of all the plans I had in store for us,
Laughing, dancing, traveling the world on our own.
And this man, he weeps tonight,
And his head is bowed with sorrow,
But what can you do, sitting there,
And you let him cry tomorrow,
Yes, youll let him cry tomorrow.
Yes, youll let him cry tomorrow.
I thought our thing would last,
cause it said so in my horoscope,
The days have gone and past while dreaming away.
The lighting here is dim,
And the room closes in around me.
Your pictures hanging loose on a rusting nail.
And this man, he weeps tonight,
And his head is bowed with sorrow,
But what can you do, sitting there,
And you let him cry tomorrow,
Yes, youll let him cry tomorrow.
Yes, youll let him cry tomorrow.
And this man, he weeps tonight,
And his head is bowed with sorrow,
But what can you do, sitting there,
And you let him cry tomorrow,
Yes, youll let him cry tomorrow.
Yes, youll let him cry tomorrow
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Moon is a Painter
He coveted her portrait.
He toiled as she grew gay.
She loved to see him labor
In that devoted way.
And in the end it pleased her,
But bowed him more with care.
Her rose-smile showed so plainly,
Her soul-smile was not there.
That night he groped without a lamp
To find a cloak, a book,
And on the vexing portrait
By moonrise chanced to look.
The color-scheme was out of key,
The maiden rose-smile faint,
But through the blessed darkness
She gleamed, his friendly saint.
The comrade, white, immortal,
His bride, and more than bride—
The citizen, the sage of mind,
For whom he lived and died.
poem by Vachel Lindsay
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Questioning My Own Silence!
there are times when i question
my own silence....
when it starts to smell like
'i dont care'...
when it reeks of
'i dont have time to get involved'.
when it stares back at me from
an angry mirror.
when it turns and walks away
like some stranger....
when it hurts with every step i take!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Celebrate You
I wear my patent leather shoes,
And my golden fleeces,
A feather in my hair for you,
And then I fall to pieces.
At your celebration (oh-oh, oh-oh)
Celebration (oh-oh, oh-oh) x2
Celebrate you.
Were quiet as two mannequins
Feasting on silences.
We wait for christmas to begin
To see the cracking faces.
I tip my glass a toast to you,
The blood spills on the carpet.
At your celebration (oh-oh, oh-oh)
Celebration (oh-oh, oh-oh) ( x2 )
Celebrate you.
And in the dream you held a gun,
You killed off all who hurt you,
And left me there the only one
Who would not dare desert you.
Im safe here growing in the shade,
Away from all the brightness.
I lost my innocence today
When I learned how to write this.
Tonight my nightgown is in knots.
I toss and turn in your honor.
Ill never know just what Ive got
As long as youre my father.
And Ill keep searching here for you,
Ill clean out every corner.
Its not my fault.
Its not my fault. (celebrate you) x3
Its not my fault.
song performed by by Veruca Salt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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0098 New Term at Evening Class
Sit here, in the entrance hall which
they've cleaned to spotless in the vacation
and watch them arrive,
early, one by one;
that's much more fun to watch.
Some walk a little faster than they need
as if impelled by their decision
to make this time full of worth for them.
Some walk slowly, yet deliberately, with a relaxed quiet;
we guess they're teaching staff; while
the ones who seem in a controlled acceleration tonight
are probably on duty.
Some seem almost unrecognisable
from your memory of them last term;
something magnificent must have happened
in the vacation; you wonder - do they know?
Some walk slowly, as if they belonged here
before they arrived; they bring the purpose of the place
visibly to light, as if bringing it back to itself;
even, as we watch,
bring ourselves to ourselves; as if the school
has come to life before a word is said;
if this were an ancient temple,
(and why not?)
they would be in solemn, joyous procession towards
the stone or place that is the building's centre,
bearing in upraised hands
a gift of gratitude, with shining eyes...for
who can forget that Greek statue of the 'calf-bearer'
who walked this way, shining-eyed, to that temple; who walks
for as long as marble lasts?
But this is today; we watch them in their street clothes
on their way down to the cloakroom,
two brown leaves, damp between,
shed on the doormat.
And now, elevated by this passing show
so, knowing now humanity always this so beautiful,
I too go down to the cloakroom; where in the perfect mirror
I see a person whose face has softened;
and yet who's taller, with some almost unfamiliar authority which
I did not see when I last looked at me
in the steamy bathroom mirror back at home -
yes, this is a good place to be.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Nobody Lives Here Anymore
scarecrow in the yard,
eviction notice on the door.
the walls stripped bare
smell of ham and beans,
the sounds of laughter
and crying trapped
in the cobwebbed corners.
across the street a homosexual
man peeks through the curtains,
his breath of amaretto and nuts...
watching the old man and woman
pack the remnants of a life
into a car, nowhere to go.
setting down his cup he walks
out the door, across the street....
starts carrying boxes without a word.
till all is loaded that can be loaded,
and the rest left in a pile down
at the street, to be carried off....
then hugs, a tear, a few kind words....
almost family, just neighbors, friends...
the old couple drives away without
looking back... the neighbor staring
at the empty boxes on the porch...
nobody lives here anymore!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Black Flowing Hair, A Memory Of You
I see you leaning by a wall next door
Against an afternoon sun
And though it is your back that faces me
I know
From the beating of my heart
That it is you, Black-flowing-hair
I can smell you
In mint
And you shall be inside me
As I breathe
So I can live for another time
You are
My tallest tree
On top of the Sleeping-dragon-mountain
And I look up to you
Like my full moon one cold night
Untouched by my fingers
Black-flowing-hair
The world may not have found love in my eyes
As I have none to boost
Since I have given it to you
All of it
I shall find it
But shall not take it back
From you
Your shadow is my god
And it is only that I can touch
Without you knowing
The shadow
Of your
Back
My self-made god
Is enough life
I do not ask much
I cannot
You do not know me
There is no need
I only give myself
I do not have to take any
In return
Now I declare
I have found my place
In you
I have found myself
In you
I have found you
I am Mute-white-dove -sitting
On the breast of Black-flowing-hair
Touching the clouds
Holding the rainbow
Saving all the raindrops of my life.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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(Now You See Me) Now You Don't
Better take a good look before I disappear
Because I'm just about to be your used-to-be
You might catch a glimpse of my taillights in the dust
And if you notice something missin', well it's me
'Cause I tried and you lied
I cried and you stood by
Well, here's a little magic thing I do
Now you see me, now you don't
First you do but then you won't
Watch me vanish right before your eyes
You might think you see me there
In a cafe on a street somewhere
Yeah, that might be me but I'll be gone
Now you see me, now you don't
If you ever get the feelin' that it feels like deja vu
Because some stranger feels like someone that you know
Might be the color of her lipstick or the smell of her perfume
That sends a shiver all the way down to your toes
Don't blink 'cause it ain't yeah what you think
It's just your heart playing tricks on you
Now you see me, now you don't
First you do but then you won't
Watch me vanish right before your eyes
You might think you see me there
In a cafe on a street somewhere
Yeah, that might be me but I'll be gone
Now you see me, now you don't
You might think you see me there
In a cafe on a street somewhere
Yeah, that might be me, but I'll be gone
Now you see me, now you don't
Now you see me, now you don't
Now you see me, now you don't
Now you see me
song performed by by Lee Ann Womack
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Singing Dust
Bring out your integrity
genesis is imploding
in the murderous womb.
Multilinear mutinies have started
in red blooms
igniting the sky.
An old woman walks on the street
eating the shadows of sun.
The king will give her a gift of moon.
How the earth has been flattened
by the pawns of Resurrection?
Life has never been the same.
Purely undone for the death
milk of silence in dark.
The cow is sitting on the singing dust.
Fear was not me I was listening
the wheezing sound of changing winds.
The snakes are coming out of the trenches.
poem by Satish Verma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bottom
Lift your head up from the clouds
I know that you're shaking
Breaking down
How could you leave me
Garbage can
Never want to be your understand
Help me
Help me
Help me
Help me
Lord can you help me get this weight off my shoulders
Can you help me I think I'm getting older
The pain that you left me deep within
How can I live living in sin
And you know that I've tried
And you know
Lord knows I've tried every day of my life
Sitting at the bottom, sitting at the bottom with you
Sitting at the bottom with you
I'm just sitting at the bottom with you
I'm just sitting at the bottom, sitting at the bottom
How many times I gotta say
That you're never ever gonna get your way
Down in the gutter as I decay
Where you gonna leave me
Let me be
Help me
Help me
Help me
Help me understand
And you know that I've tried
Don't you know
Lord knows I've tried every day of my life
Sitting at the bottom, I'm sitting at the bottom with you
I'm just sitting at the bottom with you
Now I'm sitting at the bottom with you
I'm just sitting at the bottom, sitting at the bottom with you
[x2]
Sticks and stones may break my bones
But words will never hurt me
[x2]
Sticks and stones breaking my bones
No your words aren't never gonna hurt me
And you know that I've tried
And you know
Lord knows I've tried every day of my life
Sitting at the bottom, sitting at the bottom with you
I'm just sitting at the bottom with you
Now i'm sitting at the bottom with you
I'm just sitting at the bottom with you
I'm just sitting at the bottom with you
song performed by by Puddle Of Mudd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lovely Head
It starts in my belly
Then up to my heart
Into my mouth I cant keep it shut
Do you recognize the smell
Is that how you tell
Us apart
I fool myself
To sleep and dream
Nobodys there
No-one but me
So cool
Youre hardly there
Why cant this be killing you
Frankenstein would want your mind
Your lovely head
Your lovely head
song performed by by Goldfrapp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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