Predatory
Surge of rage in domes of violence
skins the history, becomes a frozen embryo
of genetic markers, shimmers in society,
race and native shirts.
Enters into the creation of a saga
accomplished by advancing poppies;
there was no connection to ancestors.
Brutalizing golden dawn
leaves a bitter taste.
They were fighting with broken swords.
Virgin flesh becomes moon face,
bloats for a fatal jump,
on to the widow’s peak
of a dancing star at sun-set point.
The innocence cleaves the night
to implant the bride’s lips.
I am lost in a sheared landscape
there is no singing tree.
poem by Satish Verma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Jump Jump
Wearing stripes, arms up high, as tall as can be,
Nothing more than a frozen smile to see.
In the cage hell defy all thats logical.
Under lights, stay up all night with his formula.
In the grip in the step of potential rage.
Oh its hip, formulated to fascinate.
If you do it like this: jump! jump!
Do it like this: jump! jump!
She moves faster than any eye can see,
Moving parts that arent moved normally.
In the haze what it isnt is what you see.
On and off, up and down, like a yo yo string.
Try to do it like this: jump! jump!
No, no, like this: jump! jump!
Do it for a kiss: jump! jump!
Do it like this: jump! jump!
They shine, we shield our eyes to see what is the dazzling and the enchanted.
They whine come closer to me.
That is the dizzying, the dancing sorcery.
Jump little doggie. do what she say. jump jump jump.
Jump little doggie. do what she say. jump jump jump.
Jump little doggie. do what she say. jump jump jump.
Jump little doggie. do what she say. jump jump jump.
Whoa whoa, my little doggie, he does a trick.
Ruff ruff!
He went to school to learn how to sit.
We were excited, delighted having fun.
As we decended the exit, got off the bus,
We got friends, we got fans now, and this is proof.
Can you tell me why that guy is on the roof?
Oh ho, do it like this: jump! jump!
Try it like this: jump! jump!
Do it more like this: jump! jump!
Jump little doggie. do what she say. jump jump.
Jump little doggie. do what she say. jump jump.
Jump little doggie. do what she say. jump jump.
Jump little doggie. do what she say. jump jump.
song performed by by Blondie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Usurper
THE MOON
was crescent shaped
the star in between floats like a jewel
hanging on the ear
what appears to be
a hungry mouth
eager to swallow
what does not
belong to it
and then
the war started
atrocities justifying other atrocities
violence begetting
genetic violence
TV ads says
propaganda keep on
saying
there is no one to
blame
right fighting for rights
body burying another body
the ring
the circle of injustice
without beginning
without end
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Two Poems from the War
Oh, not the loss of the accomplished thing!
Not dumb farewells, nor long relinquishment
Of beauty had, and golden summer spent,
And savage glory of the fluttering
Torn banners of the rain, and frosty ring
Of moon-white winters, and the imminent
Long-lunging seas, and glowing students bent
To race on some smooth beach the gull's wing:
Not these, nor all we've been, nor all we've loved,
The pitiful familiar names, had moved
Our hearts to weep for them; but oh, the star
The future is! Eternity's too wan
To give again that undefeated, far,
All-possible irradiance of dawn.
Like moon-dark, like brown water you escape,
O laughing mouth, O sweet uplifted lips.
Within the peering brain old ghosts take shape;
You flame and wither as the white foam slips
Back from the broken wave: sometimes a start,
A gesture of the hands, a way you own
Of bending that smooth head above your heart,--
Then these are varied, then the dream is gone.
Oh, you are too much mine and flesh of me
To seal upon the brain, who in the blood
Are so intense a pulse, so swift a flood
Of beauty, such unceasing instancy.
Dear unimagined brow, unvisioned face,
All beauty has become your dwelling place.
poem by Archibald MacLeish
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Vine of Life
Substance is not divinity.
It is a creation of divinity.
My substance is my creation.
Is it substantially good?
Is it substantially evil?
The mind creates a bitter fruit.
Bitter to the taste,
Bitter to the eyes,
Bitter to the heart.
The spirit creates a sweet fruit.
Sweet to the taste,
Sweet to the eyes,
Sweet to the heart.
The vine is the connection to the fruit.
Our connection to the source of life.
Is life mind or spirit?
What is my calling or what is calling me?
The voices in my head?
Or the voice of creation?
The mind has limited capability.
The spirit has limitless.
For the mind will always thirst.
And the spirit will quench another.
Now my cup runneth over.
poem by Ryan Lee Morris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Star Child
A child 5 years of age stared into the sun
She stared into the bright lights so long it
Burnt a hole in her mind and branded her eyes
It imprinted upon her soul, mysteries of both young and old
And then shed close her eyes tight to feel the darkness
Shes a dancing girl, dancing girl
She danced so fast, so fine
She danced around with her eyes shut
To see the stars in her mind
A spinning jupiter, a spinning mars
She herself was just a singing star
A breathing constellation
Cause shes a bright point of light
Traveling through the skies of her mind
Oh and how she knew the stars
And the map of the human heart
For long lengths of time, shed stay in her mind
And follow roads back, ancient tracks and primitive times
When giant birds lifted themselves of
Starry wings to burn white, fiery silhouettes into the night sky
Shes a dancing girl, dancing girl
She danced for them
And she followed all the lines back
To where they did begin
She saw her mother in pegas wings
She felt her father in a scorpial sting
A genetic constellation
Cause she was a bright point of light
Traveling through the skies of her mind
Oh and how she knew the stars
And the map of the human heart
She saw bursting flowers made of lucride stone
Shooting stars who songs sang to her bones
She saw stories her grandfather used to tell
His flesh was frozen was frozen and kept so well
And a clear meeting of words, but pictures to
Tell her what she knew she needed to hear
Shes a dancing girl, dancing girl
She danced so fast, so well
And she danced until her knees got weak
And all resistance fell
And all the walls, they came tumbling down
She stood eyes open, back on the ground
Wiser, full of glory
She was a bright point of light
Traveling through the skies of her mind
Oh and how she knew the stars
And the map of the human heart
song performed by by Jewel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Modern Love XXXII (Okie the zen golden retreiver)
Evening star gives eternal kisses of fireflies
to the dark face of the moon
the joyful moon cracks an ocher grin
and falls in love with a reflection
on the green river
the red tails of dancing fireflies
escape from the moon's mouth
into the adoration
Racoons take off their masks
preparing for bed
the river politely refuses
to carry the lunar mirror
leaves it at the waterfall's door
who returns it to the evening star
during the moon's void
a mocking bird awakens the meditating trees
the rocks hidden under the falls miss the sun
the sun's lover lives an hour of light years away
the lunar grin, reflection, evening star
seek hiding places from the dawn
the sudden stillness gives birth
to thousand of mohican souls
who dance in concentric circles
while running down whitmore falls
the evening star ashamed of history
fades into the blue
the moon finds great happiness
in disappearing
the unseen ocean opens arms
and awaits the moon's image
arias of water sing
eternal mantras
where mind's heart dances
joyous silence of a single note
a breath whispering by
between the longing of the ocean
and the moon's love of infinite reflections
and the adoring evening star
an open window creates a wall
of antigue white and mauve moths
as a golden retreiver leaps from a black rock
chasing a teasing blue heron who flies
up over black trees into the bend of the river
creating dawn, as the golden bellyflops laughing
poem by Liberatore Suffoletta
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Voices Of Freedom
The currents rage deep inside us
this is the age of Video Violence
The currents rage so deep inside us
this is the age of Video Violence
Up in the morning drinking his coffee
turns on the TV to some slasher movie
Cartoon-like women, tied up and sweaty
painting and screaming, thank you, have a nice day
the currents rage, the dawn's upon us
this is the age of Video Violence
The currents rage so deep inside us
this is the age of Video Violence
Na Na Na Na Na Na
Na Na Na Na Na Na
His heart is pounding he switches the channel
looking for something, other than rape or murder
Or beatings or torture, but except for Walt Disney
it's a twisted alliance, this age of Video Violence
The currents rage, the dawn's upon us
this is the age of Video Violence
The current rage so deep inside us
this is the age of Video Violence
Down at his job his boss sits there screaming
if he loses his job, life looses its meaning
His son is in high school, there's nothing he's learning
he sits by the TV, watching Corvettes exploding, 'cause
The currents rage, the dawn's upon us
this is the age of Video Violence
No age of reason landing upon us
this is the age of Video Violence
Na Na Na Na Na Na
Na Na Na Na Na Na
Down at a bar some woman is topless
she's acned and scarred, her hair is a mess
While he shoves $5 down her exotic panties
the video jukebox is playing Madonna
While just down the block at some local theater
they're grabbing their crotches at the 13th beheading
As the dead rise to live, the live sink to die
the currents are deep and raging inside
The currents rage so deep inside us
this is the age of Video Violence
No age of reason is landing upon us
this is
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The lost lagoon
It is dusk on the Lost Lagoon,
And we two dreaming the dusk away,
Beneath the drift of a twilight grey,
Beneath the drowse of an ending day,
And the curve of a golden moon.
It is dark in the Lost Lagoon,
And gone are the depths of haunting blue,
The grouping gulls, and the old canoe,
The singing firs, and the dusk and--you,
And gone is the golden moon.
O! lure of the Lost Lagoon,--
I dream to-night that my paddle blurs
The purple shade where the seaweed stirs,
I hear the call of the singing firs
In the hush of the golden moon.
poem by Emily Pauline Johnson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Silent Colours
A mad resurgence of fake locks
paralyzes the arched doors of the hidden
walls, where the roses squirm under
the false kisses of a red moon;
they came again to police the blinds.
The mother digs up the charred body of
her son without singing the praise of
drifting star, till the scars become green.
It was the name of ivory grief, you never
know, when the blue milk turns malignant.
A hairy loss of heritage from the golden
heights of slumber. My constant truth
weeps without shame. This landscape
does not belong to ashes of broken history
of man. The delirium of war on laments
has wiped away the holding lights on shores.
poem by Satish Verma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Morning break, Yes Break and Buy By Time
Morning break, yes break and buy by time
Dusk wake when day is done, yes done, the sun
Keep, the sun no son, no son no one
The day is done, did done its run into night
And the moon replace the sun, yes the day is done
And the sun is nowhere to be found.
The absent of light save for what the moon capture
But it is an illusion, yes the reflection caught
The star’s pin point, yes Orion belt all in a row
Pin point holes they seem so distant but never dull
They call forth man’s dreams of a new home
A new place to wait the dawn breaking
Yes it has broken upon the bloke who woke the sun.
poem by David E. Patton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The True Dawn
Go, false dawn, that cometh as a child
With yellow curls!
Hast never known the wild
Unhallowed cry of night!
Go hence!
I did not wish for pearls
Of dimpled innocence
Upon this floor.
Go! They blinding light
But leaves the darkness deeper than before.
Go, false dawn, that cometh as a bride
In virgin white
And brimming eyes so wide
With trust, and void of fears!
Depart!
Thou hast not known the night!
Repose thy willing heart
At whiter stairs.
Go! Before thy tears
Bestain they veil, and deepen these my cares.
Come, true dawn, that creepeth from the foul
Unclean abyss
With weary arms! The cowl
Is as the cowl of night.
Art here!
I feel thy tired kiss.
And feel each falling tear
Upon these sands.
Come! Thy glimmered light
Shall guide my eyes, and guide my trembling
hands.
poem by Leon Gellert
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
L.a. Connection
Oh, carry home my broken bones and lay me down to rest
Forty days of cries and moans i guess i've failed to pass the test
I've been sent away not a thing to say
I'm banished from the fold
I'm a fallen angel who's lost his wings and left out in the cold
Ooooh l.a. connection
Oh l.a. connection
L.a. connection, yeah
Operator place a call keep secret but it through
Investigator knows it all he's at the window i wonder who
I've got to cut the line and let me drift find a haven in the storm
I got no time i need a lift to where it's sweet and close and warm
I say
Ooooh l.a. connection
Oh l.a. connection
L.a. connection
Hey, carry home my broken bones and lay me down to rest
Forty days of cries and moans well i've just failed the test
Feel i'm balanced on the brim should i lean another way
Like a flame that's going on the dim needs blessing from the day, oh
Ooooh l.a. connection, l.a. connection
Oh take me away i got nothing to say
It's got to be an l.a. connection, oh
Ooooh l.a. connection, l.a. connection
Ooooh, l.a., l.a., l.a., l.a., l.a. connection
Connection, oh
Ooooh l.a. connection, l.a. connection
Oh l.a., oh, l.a. connection
L.a., l.a. inspection
Ooooh l.a. connection, l.a. connection
Oh i'm down, oh i'm down
I can't take a rejection
L.a., need an l.a. connection
L.a., yeah, oh l.a. connection
L.a. connection
I'm flying away
Take me back home, i gotta get home to l.a.
L.a., l.a. connection, l.a.
Oh, l.a. connection, l.a. connection
Ooooh, ooooh, l.a. connection, l.a.
song performed by by Rainbow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Woodman
Ax and partly because of the aristocratic nose geothermal
History's history all the dust
Saturday deep sleep suddenly lost air.
Tree pond water touches remain apathetic, wretched memories bind
Music sounds bitter defeat us
I have the pulse of the overhang kankabati cloud, long tears
We were sleeping in the yard at night
It's the sound of wood broken away in the dark.
Enter a name inscribed on the chest and tree feller
Who has cheated death at the platter of rice.
poem by Shafi Sumodro
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Loyal To Death
An answer becomes a question
without an effort.
The world hisses
in filaments of joy.
My hands become
green branches of a huge tree.
Terrified sun moves away
with all its glory.
I empty myself in a circle of voidness.
It was a sad chapter
the beginning of violence-
the heat dries up the sweat on brows.
Standing in the sun I watch,
how we are dismantling each other.
The innocence of civility,
eclipsed by ferocious flesh, loses symphony.
The fatal, brutal, savage times.
We are running
to reach nowhere.
The tension creeps under the skin.
The impurity of thought
hurts like broken glass.
A barren land forgets
the man & remains loyal to death.
poem by Satish Verma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
For All Prisoners And Captives
OVER the English trees and the English meadows
Twilight is falling clear,
But my heart walks far in the homeless winds and the shadows
For those who are not here.
Youth and pleasure and peace and the strong flesh clothing
The freeman's soul, they gave;
Beauty they gave for a scar and honour for loathing
And life for a living grave.
But not of the least they gave was the English, mellow
Sunlight on beech leaves spread,
And the Squirrel flickering earthward to find his fellow
Where the chestnut husks lie dead.
And not of the least they lost was the calm star climbing
Over the elm tree's height,
And the heron high in the mists, and the hoar frost riming
The ivy leaves at night.
Night and the early moon, and the dead leaves burning,
And England secure and free
By the price of uncounted heartbreaks toward her turning
Across her kindred sea.
Night, and the smell of the earth, and the blue reek lifting
Straight as a prayer from the plain.
Loose them, O Sleep, to the sun and the beech leaves drifting
And the stubble fields again!
Night, and the robins still, and the long smoke folding,
The fallow on either hand,
And the spirits of those who sorrow afar, beholding
In dreams their native land.
poem by Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Nestlings
Coming face to face with hemlock
you are not able to rain in the animal
and start climbing the temperamental tree.
Fathered by innocence of violence
on the name of war, when were you
going to kill? Your own progency?
Slice by slice I am collecting the
wrath of tinderbox, dry winds
and volcano for the sake of peace.
And I hear the night’s arrival
without moon, without stars.
The black needles will stitch the wounds of sun.
poem by Satish Verma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A moment in time! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
Summer at peak;
a young man
in a white singlet.
Summer at peak;
a young girl
in short sleeves.
Summer at peak;
A child licks
Ice cream.
Summer at peak;
an infant
On inhaler.
Summer at peak;
A young couple
Cosy in cinema hall seats.
Summer at peak;
A vendor
Sells lime water.
Summer at peak;
Gulmohar petals
lie limp on grass.
Summer at peak;
Dust haze,
Road rage.
Summer at peak;
beads of sweat
slide on lips.
Summer at peak,
Street wars,
Blame it on heat.
poem by Mamta Agarwal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Time’s Burden
I am not too well, he felt.
The flames chased him in charred landscape.
Fighting over, he pondered about the
crime within, the surge to find a nest hole.
A wounded pride where the salmonella hits.
You enter a slot for more enticements.
Any patch of vague tragedy among the barren
desirability, shares the accident with sacrifice.
Unhappy, you reverse the mode of retrieving
against the terms of swimming alone.
Where was the death’s arc to capture
the mistakes of life? Was an archaism
sufficient to kill the untruth? No implant
will enhance the height of achievement.
poem by Satish Verma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Broken Face
I got a broken face
I got a
I got a broken face
Uh-hu, uh-hu, uh-hu, uh-hu, ooo
I got a broken face (3x)
There was this boy who had two
Children with his sisters
They were his daughters
They were his favourite lovers
I got no lips, I got no tongue
Whatever I say is only spit
I got no lips, I got no tongue
I got a broken face, uh-hu, uh-hu
I got a broken face
There was this man who snapped his poke
In little pieces
And then they drilled holes
And then they put em back in there
I got no lips, I got no tongue
Whatever I say is only spit
I got no lips, I got no tongue
I got a broken face
Uh-hu, uh-hu, uh-hu, uh-hu, ooo
I got a broken face
The little thing who does my laundry
Speaks no english
But if you saw her
Youd say isnt she lovely
I got no lips, I got no tongue
Whatever I say is only spit
I got no lips, I got no tongue
song performed by by Pixies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
I Dreamt You
I dreamt you
last night
After years that I thought
that my dreams were dry
as I remember
all those days
before I lost my I
Your face clear in the crowd
your hallow curly hair
the innocence of childhood still
no stains beyond repair
I dreamt you
in a middle
of another dream.
Just standing
looking forward
with that look upon your face,
without a smile
without a tear
in golden shining innocence
Your face was like the moon
in full glow but of cold
as if the preview of your life
when your dreams will grow old
I dreamt you
in a riddle
of an unknown golden mean.
Teasing me
with your eyes wide
your gaze so true
in holy hue
a lie could not avail
no passenger in this old ride
but captain of the sail
I dreamt you
last night.
I awoke in comfort and at ease
a master of my life and
in my hands I hold the keys.
I woke refreshed and energised
with certainty I knew
that all is well and there is hope
for I am still just you.
poem by Boaz Zippor
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!