Oblivion
A cutaneous drip.
The young moon drinks the dew
unbuttoning a rose.
A fierce wind rubs
against the golden triangle
to invite a violet sting.
Eyes armed with green thumbs
go for a swim in rage.
The lake unloosens a blood moon.
No inscense will rise
from the tomb of a lover,
unless he dies with a style.
Crossing the gray lines,
I will not take your lips;
paralyzing the silver tongs.
poem by Satish Verma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
The Fairy Bridal-Hymn
[This is the hymn to Eleanor, daughter of Mab and a golden drone, sung by the Locust choir when the fairy child marries her God, the yellow rose]
This is a song to the white-armed one
Cold in the breast as the frost-wrapped Spring,
Whose feet are slow on the hills of life,
Whose round mouth rules by whispering.
This is a song to the white-armed one
Whose breast shall burn as a Summer field,
Whose wings shall rise to the doors of gold,
Whose poppy lips to the God shall yield.
This is a song to the white-armed one
When the closing rose shall bind her fast,
And a song of the song their blood shall sing,
When the Rose-God drinks her soul at last.
poem by Vachel Lindsay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Reflection of God
Thoughts are like ripples,
gently flowing over
the surface of the mind.
Deep inside us
we bear the image of God,
the ripples of thought break that image
into fragments.
It is as if you are looking in
a lake full of ripples-
It is a full moon night,
and the lake is reflecting
the beautiful moon.
But the lake is full of ripples
You cannot gather the moon together;
the moon goes on splitting
into a thousand fragments.
The whole lake seems to be
spread over by the moon-
the silvery beauty, softly broken apart;
many a fragments is seen floating-
all around.
Then the wind stops,
the ripples disappear:
those fragments start falling into one moon.
The silver that was spread
all over the lake,
now becomes more concentrated
into one place - into one moon.
When the lake
is completely without ripples,
the moon is reflected perfectly.
God is reflected perfectly
when there is no ripple in you.
poem by Nazmul Haque
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Farewell
Not soon shall I forget--a sheet
Of golden water, cold and sweet,
The young moon with her head in veils
Of silver, and the nightingales.
A wain of hay came up the lane--
O fields I shall not walk again,
And trees I shall not see, so still
Against a sky of daffodil!
Fields where my happy heart had rest,
And where my heart was heaviest,
I shall remember them at peace
Drenched in moon-silver like a fleece.
The golden water sweet and cold,
The moon of silver and of gold,
The dew upon the gray grass-spears,
I shall remember them with tears.
poem by Katharine Tynan
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Turns and Movies: Violet Moore and Bert Moore
He thinks her little feet should pass
Where dandelions star thickly grass;
Her hands should lift in sunlit air
Sea-wind should tangle up her hair.
Green leaves, he says, have never heard
A sweeter ragtime mockingbird,
Nor has the moon-man ever seen,
Or man in the spotlight, leering green,
Such a beguiling, smiling queen.
Her eyes, he says, are stars at dusk,
Her mouth as sweet as red-rose musk;
And when she dances his young heart swells
With flutes and viols and silver bells;
His brain is dizzy, his senses swim,
When she slants her ragtime eyes at him. . .
Moonlight shadows, he bids her see,
Move no more silently than she.
It was this way, he says, she came,
Into his cold heart, bearing flame.
And now that his heart is all on fire
Will she refuse his heart's desire?--
And O! has the Moon Man ever seen
(Or the spotlight devil, leering green)
A sweeter shadow upon a screen?
poem by Conrad Potter Aiken
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Violet Moore and Bert Moore
He thinks her little feet should pass
Where dandelions star thickly grass;
Her hands should lift in sunlit air
Sea-wind should tangle up her hair.
Green leaves, he says, have never heard
A sweeter ragtime mockingbird,
Nor has the moon-man ever seen,
Or man in the spotlight, leering green,
Such a beguiling, smiling queen.
Her eyes, he says, are stars at dusk,
Her mouth as sweet as red-rose musk;
And when she dances his young heart swells
With flutes and viols and silver bells;
His brain is dizzy, his senses swim,
When she slants her ragtime eyes at him. . .
Moonlight shadows, he bids her see,
Move no more silently than she.
It was this way, he says, she came,
Into his cold heart, bearing flame.
And now that his heart is all on fire
Will she refuse his heart's desire?-
And O! has the Moon Man ever seen
(Or the spotlight devil, leering green)
A sweeter shadow upon a screen?
poem by Conrad Potter Aiken
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Big Golden Moon!
2010 Moon is revolving round the Earth bright in closer orbit
Making Solar eclipse look like ring fire and not diamond ring!
Often golden Moon rise lasts longer before it becomes silver
In the evenings bigger in size than usual on Full Moon days!
Big golden Moon shines bright yellow long in the winter
With the Sky clear having no clouds indicating last phase;
But heavy chill wind blows cold making all shiver despite
They walk brisk sans slackening the pace a little to the end!
Becoming Sun like silver light, Moon attains brilliant beauty
Changing Sea into Milky Way of Universe similar to Vaikunda,
The abode of Lord Vishnu, God of protection of the good people
And His consort Goddess Lakshmi giver of wealth to mankind!
Big golden Moon becoming silver Moon inspires hope and joy
Confirming confidence to all to survive, sustain and succeed ever!
poem by Ramesh T A
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Stars Are
The stars are
Although I do not sing
About them—
The sky and the trees
Are indifferent
To whom they please
The rose is unmoved
By my nose
And the garland in your hair
Although your eyes be lakes, dies
Why sigh for a star
Better bay at the moon
Better bay at the moon . . .
Oh moon, moon, moon
poem by Samuel Menashe
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Moon-Lake
i
the moon
crying
moon-lake
ii
war
comes early
and silently...
iii
the baby
smiles
at the gun
aimed for
it's head
iv
the smile
lingers
as life
goes
silently
coldly
v
red moon
crying
moon-lake
of blood
vi
the killer
looks up at the moon
and says of it
'it's beautiful
tonight'
vii
war
co mes early
and silently...
viii
the moon
moon-lake
poem by Jacques du Lumerie
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Glimpse of a Dead Moon
like the stolen moon
it just slipped away in existance
just as her smile
fell away from her face
they told her he was dead
no more lithium
she'll take her death bed
just as the moon dies
but in conflict
her smile, her body wont rise
from a forced crescent moon
to a deaths funeral tune
marching foward to her tomb
no longer the cold empty shell
from the moment he died to her
and her love and smile fell
from her apathetic face
stricken with a sickness named tears
every month the moon dies
but no longer will her body rise
her body is a glimpse of a dead moon
poem by Kathryn Garner
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What The Hyena Said
The moon is but a golden skull,
She mounts the heavens now,
And Moon-Worms, mighty Moon-Worms
Are wreathed around her brow.
The Moon-Worms are a doughty race:
They eat her gray and golden face.
Her eye-sockets dead, and molding head:
These caverns are their dwelling-place.
The Moon-Worms, serpents of the skies,
From the great hollows of her eyes
Behold all souls, and they are wise:
With tiny, keen and icy eyes,
Behold how each man sins and dies.
When Earth in gold-corruption lies
Long dead, the moon-worm butterflies
On cyclone wings will reach this place—
Yea, rear their brood on earth’s dead face.
poem by Vachel Lindsay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Highly-Colored Romance
Ben Green was a New-Hampshire boy,
Who stood full six feet two:
A jovial chap this same Ben Green,
Though he had oft been blue.
He loved a girl named Olive Brown,
Who lived near Bixby's pond,
And who, despite her brunette name,
Was a decided blonde.
"A Highly Colored Romance."
A pink of rare perfection she,
The belle of all the town;
Though Ben oft wished her Olive Green,
Instead of Olive Brown.
And she loved Ben, and said that nought
Should mar their joy serene;
And, when she changed from Olive Brown,
'Twould surely be to Green.
She kept her word in-violet,
And vowed, ere she was wed,
Although when Brown she had Be(e)n Green.
When Green she'd be well read.
But, ah! her young affections changed
To Gray, a Southern fellow;
And Green turned white the news to hear,
Though first it made him yell, oh!
Says he, " How can you lilac this,
When you vowed to be true?
I'll take your fine young lover, Gray,
And beat him till he's blue."
Then Olive Brown to crimson turned,
And said, "Do as you say:
The country long has wished to see
'The Blue combined with Gray.'"
Ben Green to purple turned with rage,
And black his brow as night;
While on the cheek of Olive Brown
The crimson changed to white.
"O cruel Olive Brown!" says Ben,
"I've been dun-brown by you:
Let this 'Grayback' his steps retrace,
And take Greenback, — oh, do!"
Poor Olive Brown, what could she say,
To sea-Green look so sad ?
And so she rose, and said to him,
"I'll go and ask my dad."
. . . .
The years rolled by: Ben's raven locks
For silver did not lack;
And Olive, with her hair of gold,
Was glad she took Greenback.
poem by Charles Follen Adams from Yawcob Strauss and Other Poems
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Change
She leaned out into the soft June weather,
With her long loose tresses the night breeze played;
Her eyes were as blue as the bells on the heather:
Oh, what is so fair as a fair young maid!
She folded her hands, like the leaves of a lily,
'My life, ' she said, 'is a night in June,
Fair and quiet, and calm and stilly;
Bring me a change, O changeful moon!
'Who would drift on a lake forever?
Young hearts weary - it is not strange,
And sigh for the beautiful bounding river;
New moon, true moon, bring me a change! '
The rose that rivalled her maiden blushes
Dropped from her breast, at a strangers feet;
Only a glance; but the hot blood rushes
To mantle a fair face, shy and sweet.
To and fro, while the moon is waning,
They walk, and the stars shine on above;
And one is in earnest, and one is feigning -
Oh, what is so sweet as a sweet young love?
A young life crushed, and a young heart broken,
A bleak wind blows through the lovely bower,
And all that remains of the love vows spoken -
Is the trampled leaf of a faded flower.
The night is dark, for the moon is failing -
And what is so pale as a pale old moon?
Cold is the wind through the tree tops wailing -
Woe that the change should come so soon.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Violet And The Rose
The violet in the wood, that's sweet to-day,
Is longer sweet than roses of red June;
Set me sweet violets along my way,
And bid the red rose flower, but not too soon.
Ah violet, ah rose, why not the two?
Why bloom not all fair flowers the whole year through?
Why not the two, young violet, ripe rose?
Why dies one sweetness when another blows?
poem by Augusta Davies Webster
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Colours Of Life
Sunny morning, golden noon, rose pink twilight, silver moon.
Grey black cloud, creamy sea, lightning bright, green brown tree.
Yellow with age, white with fright, red with rage, black as night.
Green with envy, rainbow hue, in the pink, sky of blue.
Countless colours running rife. These are the colours of our life.
poem by Rod Morris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Shades Of Grey
If you start here late no one will know what you did
No the streets are straight its the soul thats crooked
Ive been treated fine Ive been treated elegantly
But Im not one for bathing in the waters of plenty
East is east west is west
And bowery is screaming while delancey rests
Well Im south of the skating but Im north of the cash
I could sure use the money but Im ashamed to ask
The traffic has buried all of last nights rain
The words are all different but the accent is the same
The sun is white and the moon is gray
And the river is black blue and green
The young are young and the old are old
And there are no shades of gray in between
Theres at least ten different strains of smoke in the air
And my prints are on them all to prove I was there
And I love the curses but Im not one for the trenches
And I do love the walking but thank God for the benches
Its hard to tell where green begins and the city gray stops
I guess the trees all bought their armor at second hand shops
My second had is working but the minute hand is broke again
I know time will pass but I dont know when
The sun is white and the moon is gray
And the river is black blue and green
The young are young and the old are old
And there are no shades of gray in between
And there are no shades of gray in between
I know the great ones have been here but where I cant tell
Theres dreams here a plenty but theyre being withheld
And Im more impressed with the closed doors than the ones that are open
The whole place tells time by a tower clock thats broken
The pigeons are ravens and the gulls are vultures
And trash is art and cash is culture
The sun is white and the moon is gray
And the river is black blue and green
The young are young and the old are old
And there are no shades of gray in between
There are no shades of gray in between
There are no shades of gray in between
song performed by by Eagle Eye Cherry
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sunshine On A Rainy Day
I see you in the darkness
I see you in the light
I see your eyes shining
In through the night
Make me feel, make me feel
Like I belong
Don't leave me, you won't leave me here
All Alone
Cast your eyes
Like summer skies
Blue earth and the ocean
Clearer than the skies, yeah!
Sunshine on a rainy day (sunshine)
Makes my soul, makes my soul drip, drip, drip away
Sunshine on a rainy day (sunshine)
Makes my soul, makes my soul drip, drip, drip away
You touch me with your spirit
You touch me with your heart
You touch me in the darkness
I feel it start
Make it feel, make it feel
So Unreal (so unreal)
Like a wind in the desert
Like a moon on the sea
Sunshine on a rainy day (sunshine)
Makes my soul, makes my soul drip, drip, drip away
Sunshine on a rainy day (sunshine)
Makes my soul, makes my soul drip, drip, drip away
Sunshine on a rainy day (sunshine)
Makes my soul, makes my soul drip, drip, drip away
Sunshine on a rainy day (sunshine)
Makes my soul, makes my soul drip, drip, drip away
Make it feel, make it feel
So Unreal (so unreal)
Like a wind in the desert
Like a moon on the sea, yeah!
Sunshine on a rainy day (sunshine)
Makes my soul, makes my soul drip, drip, drip away
Sunshine on a rainy day (sunshine)
Makes my soul, makes my soul drip, drip, drip away
Sunshine on a rainy day (sunshine)
Makes my soul, makes my soul drip, drip, drip away
Sunshine on a rainy day (sunshine)
Makes my soul, makes my soul drip, drip, drip away
Sunshine on a rainy day (sunshine)
Makes my soul, makes my soul drip, drip, drip away
Sunshine on a rainy day (sunshine)
Makes my soul, makes my soul drip, drip, drip away
song performed by by Zoe
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Endymion
THE apple trees are hung with gold,
And birds are loud in Arcady,
The sheep lie bleating in the fold,
The wild goat runs across the wold,
But yesterday his love he told,
I know he will come back to me.
O rising moon! O Lady moon!
Be you my lover's sentinel,
You cannot choose but know him well,
For he is shod with purple shoon,
You cannot choose but know my love,
For he a shepherd's crook doth bear,
And he is soft as any dove,
And brown and curly is his hair.
The turtle now has ceased to call
Upon her crimson-footed groom,
The grey wolf prowls about the stall,
The lily's singing seneschal
Sleeps in the lily-bell, and all
The violet hills are lost in gloom.
O risen moon! O holy moon!
Stand on the top of Helice,
And if my own true love you see,
Ah! if you see the purple shoon,
The hazel crook, the lad's brown hair,
The goat-skin wrapped about his arm,
Tell him that I am waiting where
The rushlight glimmers in the Farm.
The falling dew is cold and chill,
And no bird sings in Arcady,
The little fauns have left the hill,
Even the tired daffodil
Has closed its gilded doors, and still
My lover comes not back to me.
False moon! False moon! O waning moon!
Where is my own true lover gone,
Where are the lips vermilion,
The shepherd's crook, the purple shoon?
Why spread that silver pavilion,
Why wear that veil of drifting mist?
Ah! thou hast young Endymion,
Thou hast the lips that should be kissed!
poem by Oscar Wilde
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Li Po drowns
Li Po sits drinking wine;
he is in his garden
below the tree
reciting his poems to the night
and he sings to the cool air
and he sings to the moon
and he drinks more in between
Li Po walks to the lake
and he sings to the moon:
I will come to you, beloved
I will come to you
for you have waited for me centuries
for you have glowed nights
looking for me;
I will come to you, even now,
beloved moon,
I will come to you, even now
and Li Po walks to his boat
and he rows his boat
and he rows his boat gleefully
and he rows singing
and Li Po is in the middle of the lake
and he stops there to look at his beloved
whose radiant wholeness
shimmers in the water
and Li Po sings always
his song of love to his moon:
I will come to you, beloved
I will come to you
for you have waited for me centuries
for you have glowed nights
looking for me;
I will come to you, even now,
beloved moon,
I will come to you, even now
and Li Po jumps into the lake
and he struggles and he swims
and he swims and he struggles
and he sings:
I come to you, beloved,
I come to you
you who have waited centuries for me
radiant and a-glow in the sky
I come to you now
and he swims towards the distorted moon in the lake
and he beats his hands at the moon in the lake
and Li Po struggles
and Li Po clutches at the watery moon
and Li Po is his with his beloved
after centuries he is come
and Li Po is with his love
Li Po is with his beloved moon:
Li Po flies to the moon; Li Po flies to the moon
poem by Raj Arumugam
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Life is There Where The Moment is Mine And His
It's a sultry summer day and here is a lake,
All around lies a forest with tall oaks,
We could feel the freshness of the trees,
We enjoy the green of nature and the happy birds.
Sun is setting slowly, its last shine is kissing the waves,
You are keeping my hand into yours and we are walking around the lake,
I have a great feeling, something i cant describe in words,
If exists a meaning of life, you are the meaning of everything.
He is rowing a boat crossing the lake,
Looking at each other our eyes meet,
Words are not enough to express our happiness and love,
Our silence is a romance in moonlight.
Phosphorescence of the moon in lake water,
Was reflecting in his eyes such brightness,
I can see the joy of his face, his magnetic smile,
We'll seal this love with a tender hug and a kiss.
We'll float on the lake took by the wind,
His arms wrapping me meanwhile we gaze to each other,
He is mine and i belong to him to eternity,
Life is there where the moment is mine and his.
poem by Cristina Teodor
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Lover's Libation Pours Into A Silver Lake
A lover's libation pours into a silver lake
More silver than metal, it freezes into a mirror
Unscathed by human flesh, no impure hands doth take
The water of love, its purity streaming pure
Many lady like angels appear with eyes of gray
With skin pale, pale by the shadows of solitude
Whose hair is golden bright, like the sun of day
Dressing their bodies; exposed and delightfully nude
They peer into the mirror and see their lover's death
His yielding love, thy laugh and art gay
For his life he gives to their sweeten angelic breath
To live in his maiden's immortal, and in their beauty play
The wealthy cadence of love in their eyes of gray
Wert his love now hides and in them he now stay…..
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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