Raas!
The evening opens a wound,
a secret agony.
It neither heals nor gives solace.
The sacred whore who liberates herself
from the flesh.
Sun is pink and ashamed.
A crescent moon thought it was time
to step outside and find out the truth.
Night was willing to participate. She
wrote a message on the sky
as a survivor of a slaughter.
And now the paths of winds trace
a faded destiny of earth. It had
nothing to offer, till the god of hopes
comes in purple light and the jasmines,
open their dancing eyes.
poem by Satish Verma
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Pink
A blush of pink:
She'd caught a roving eye -
He gave a wink.
Her smile had played a shy
And quaint florescence;
The siren of pubescence
Drew him in.
She bade him touch her hair,
Suggesting that he dare
To kiss her pulsing lips!
E'er the fool a man, he did:
The drips of blood began to cheer -
And so, another rid:
Tips of fangs are sharp, you know -
Dancing ivory feeds her soul -
See her claim a howl upon a chilling wind!
Slain, he lay across a crimson floor:
She grinned in her repletion.
A blush of pink;
Beneath a glowering sky
Her savoured drink
Was done.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
pink pink pink pink pink pink her blush
pink pink pink pink pink pink her blush
pink pink pink pink pink pink her blush
pink pink pink pink pink pink
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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The Night Is A Blanket
The night,
A blanket upon the evening so mild,
A time to know which star is mine,
Amid the consternation so infinite,
That each one,
Upon my eyes gazeth.
A delusional moment,
That last a mind at large.
The moon will merge the light,
And make the sparkle a wonder,
Then we mourn the horrors of the day,
Then again our minds open like a foyer,
To foster the delight at the evening arrival,
A cross section of light,
With diluted colors,
Across the face of the dusky sky,
That's her star,
Right above my head, i guess.
The lullabies,
Not so far from ages tongue,
Mama would rhyme to the nursery boy,
Till the nightly ghost takes away his soul,
Earth is spherical,
Spins from ages to ages without a pause and a seize in pulse,
Life is replica,
But dancing every day to the tune of destruction,
The dirge of a life not seen.
When the moon shines,
Many souls is at peace,
A pensive state not to be uttered,
Because, the night is a blanket,
Under where our daily past is nurtured.
poem by Folayemi Akande
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Pink Flowers.
Do not text me or think otherwise
I am just picking flowers from my garden.
Last evening I picked a red rose but
Wow! It proved to be too red for my date
Today I visited the same garden
The only flower I found was a white rose.
Where is my favourite pink rose?
This morning I cycled to the market
Sure, to buy my date a pink rose
But the only roses there were yellow and purple.
Tried to enquire where I could get one
But no one knows where to find.
Went to my flower vendor but nowhere to find
Where will I get my pink rose for my date?
Tomorrow, I'll travel far and wide
Only to get this precious pink flower
And if I succeed, my date will be happy
And my heart will find a solace rest
Amidst the residue of love petals
Just with the pink flower petals.
Where will I get my Pink rose flower?
(Dedicated for my pink flower date)
poem by Aron Lelei
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103 ~ Dances With The Moon
'At night the moon became
a woman's face.
I met the Spirit of Music.'
-Jim Morrison from Wilderness
Come my love, 'tis a glorious evening!
The moon is full, there's a million gleamings.
Let's get ourselves to an open field and lie,
kiss and wander through the bright-black sky.
Come spirits fill our breath with rose reeds.
Leave us here to soak in splendor of moon beams.
In Night's tender arms let us be wrapped,
me and my love, because my love
materials me affection in earthly stuff.
step in...slide into some light shoes
hold on...rest your hand on my balloon
launching...lifting off for better views
soon we...we'll be dancing on the moon
my love...my one true love,
she sings o'er the dunes
velvet...a velvet blanket
she dances with the moon
dances with the moon
Oh! my love, I'll never love one
more than she, the Night.
She holds me forever
in her celestial-glow eyes,
but she hides so far away,
this untouchable She,
so don't worry, for I'll love you,
as long as moon beams soak me.
you sing...into the soft winds
hold on...keep in mind always this tune
launching...lifting off for never-ends
then we...we'll be dancing on the moon
my love...my one true love,
she sings o'er the dunes
velvet...a velvet blanket
she dances with the moon
dances with the moon
my love...my one true love,
she sings on sad tunes
she know's...know I'll never
fill her moon's shoes
when she...awakes her Spirit
she dances with the moon
dances with the moon
poem by Stan Pelfrey
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The Earth Laments for Day
THERE’S music wafting on the air,
The evening winds are sighing
Among the trees—and yonder stream
Is mournfully replying,
Lamenting loud the sunny light
That in the west is dying.
The moon is rising o’er the hill,
Her slanting rays are creeping
Where Nature lies profoundly still
In happy quiet sleeping,
And resting on her face, they’ll find
The earth is wet with weeping.
She mourneth for the lovely day,
Now deep in darkness shaded;
She sheds the dewy tear because
Of morning’s mantle faded;
She misses from her breast the garb
In which the moon array’d it.
The evening queen will strive in vain
To break the spell which bound her;
A million stars can never throw
Departed warmth around her;
They all must pass away and leave
The earth as they had found her.
But why should gentle Nature weep
That night has overtaken
The wearied world that needed sleep,
Refreshed to re-awaken,
So richer light might burst around,
The gloomy shadows breaking?
Oh, can she not from yonder sky
That gleams above her, borrow
A single ray, or find a way
To check the tear of sorrow?
A beam of hope would last her till
The dawning of to-morrow.
poem by Henry Kendall
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Nocturne
The earth, still heavy and warm with afternoon,
Dazed by the moon:
The earth, tormented with the moon’s light,
Wandering in the night:
La, La, The moon is a lovely thing to see—
The moon is an agony.
Full moon, moon rise, the old old pain
Of brightness in dilated eyes,
The ache of still
Elbows leaning on the narrow sill,
Of motionless cold hands upon the wet
Marble of the parapet,
Of open eyelids of a child behind
The crooked glimmer of the windown blind,
Of sliding faint remindful squares
Across the lamplight on the rocking-chairs:
Why do we stand so late
Stiff fingers on the moonlit gate?
Why do we stand
To watch so long the fall of moonlight on the sand?
What is it we cannot recall?
Tormented by the moon’s light
The earth turns maundering through the night.
poem by Archibald MacLeish
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Sacred Stones Of Time And Space
The path my mind traversed this day
Was guided by thy holy light
And midst the sterling starry night
With wings of love in solemn flight
I discovered there before my sight
The stones of time's most sacred way.
I bowed to read the holy script,
but it was written by a foreign hand,
My fingers trace the letters, and
they disappear into the sand...
What riddle this? What cruel brigand
Would Wisdom make a secret kept.
The holy script now in the sands
The message was set free
Our search for truth is in Gods hands
And we shall find the key
Not in space but the realm of time
Else man may never see
The Love of God is ours to claim
There is no mystery.
poem by Lynne FincherSpringarden
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Flesh Wound
We flew over miles of ocean--be prepared.
I don't have the faintest notion who'll be there.
You underestimated; nobody sympathized.
I think you'll soon feel better once we get inside.
I see the door is open -- Why don't we walk right in?
Let's put our party hats on and let the fun begin!
We should have called and said that we were on our way;
Who would have ever guessed that you'd be so unreachable?
Just another flesh wound--another thorn in my side
Just another flesh wound--another wonder-cure that you tried
Just another flesh wound--another scratch on your hide
Just another flesh wound--another irritation you abide
You know the rumour's going that he was synthesized.
And if we had to dress, I wouldn't be surprised.
I say -- you're so outrageous -- you'll go to number one!
They'll have us both arrested for having too much fun.
Just another flesh wound--another scratch on your hide.
Just another flesh wound--another thorn in your side.
Just another flesh wound--another bruise on your pride.
Just another flesh wound--another paranoia that you hide.
And when she held her nose, she took an underdose.
It was nice to see her completely comatose.
You go first, you're completely debonair;
Let's go dutch -- it's only fair.
Just another flesh wound--another thorn in your side.
Just another flesh wound--a minor injury you dignified.
Just another flesh wound--another unsuccessful suicide.
Just another flesh wound--another curse that you ride.
song performed by by Robert Palmer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The POET from the POEM
That lady -
whose eyes can see no ordinary eyes can see,
and desolate winds crying for her name
till truth and lies are all the same;
who knows how she ate the stars at night,
yet left the old moon sleeping in the sky?
Certainly she married that awful death
only not to die.
Out of her hands there came blood,
till blood covered her flesh.
And the blood had life...had sweeter life
till blood became her flesh.
How can you know the poet from the poem,
or sift the melody from its song?
Judge me, for I'll say
that lady -
is the poet and he being the blood, her poem.
poem by Jessel Jane Tevar
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Time
Time,
like a step mother-
often hard and often kind-
sometimes fellow, sometimes foe;
it really moves
in a continual flow...
often hits surprising blow;
causes wound and then heals it
when it pleases.
Time,
like a step-mother,
shows indifference to our matters
and scatters
wishful hopes and aspirations,
changes things in different fashions...
Time -the fellow
Time -the foe:
gives despairs
then repairs
we are targets of the Time
we are toys in hands of Time...
poem by Shahzia Batool
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Oedipus
how he married his own mother
and killed his own father
was what he avoided
but the same happened
it is as though
they all come to him
without notice and his eyes
did not have the power to see
so he plucked them out
from its sockets
and roamed the earth
blindly
yes, destiny
happens and happens
without our
approval
it is like a door
closing itself
when darkness
comes
and opens itself
again
when light arrives
and sometimes
we do not understand
we do not like
the way things
happen
and destiny grins
right in front
of our eyes
wide open
as though telling us
'you see? '
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Slashed Wound
In the silence of a nameless night, the moon invades
to bring out secret tears,
a perfect sky quivers.
The smell of human flesh flies,
and the spirit swirls down the history,
your hands seize little gods to get the answers.
How long this meditation on self destruction will continue?
Because of ending, decapitated faith loses eloquence.
The myth of eternal happiness slits the eyes.
Your blood drips from myriad capillaries -
And a new proverb commands the winds.
It opens to world like a slashed wound, your ruined life.
What was the mortal question of body to the soul?
Living for the day was very painful,
insistence on past was contradictory,
transparency had no consolation.
Absurdity of fog was there to stay.
poem by Satish Verma
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Destiny& Agony Fighting onwards but I cant fight away
Agony entangles me and around my soul
Fire storms down on a winter night
Moonlight shines its glorious light
Signs of the battle for what witch will be right
Open the gates and carry away there fright
Through the valley of the thunder
Deep in stormy winter ice
Its time now so roll the dice
Is this the old mans advice
Suffering this agony is this the price
To stand up for glorious freedom
Or fall down in shame
You cant fly away
You will have to stand up and face thus
Brothers of fallen swords
Rise tonight
Past agony, and despair
Fighting onwards but can not fight away
Destiny awaits thee
Open the gates
Forevermore we fight
Fighting for freedom
Till the sword frees thus
Open the gates
As we walk through with honor
For freedom we fight
Freedom of personal will
Our souls will carry out another day
It will shine and raise past the universe
Forevermore we stay free
Forevermore we will fight for freedom
Till sword have free thus
For the sword I live
And by the sword I will fight to I die
For eternity I'll fight onwards even if I cant fight away
Ill rise again for Valhalla will await me and I will be immortal
For destiny will come as my time to stand by Odin's will come forth
As I walk through the gates
I walk through with honor
Freedom I fight to the end
for now destiny lays greater then kings and hummed lands
Fighting onwards but can not fight away
For freedom I fight
For freedom I lost sight
But my soul carries on
For now I'm immortal
As I stand side by side
destiny I ride
So open up the gates
As I walk thought with honor
Oh I awaited thee
The day when the sword would free
So destiny could be
To open the gates,
and walk through with honor
As i stand side by side with Odin
I am now immortal
poem by Daniel fairfield
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The Worlds Only Certain Hope
When hopes and dreams seem to fade, there is one message to herald,
That Jesus is truly the only lasting Hope in this uncertain world.
Now He reigns from up above, but He will descend to earth once more,
As the prophetic Word of God states, this is both certain and sure.
Prophecy makes the Bible different from all other sacred writings,
Peace is found only in Christ, as all others will continue fighting.
When Christ comes to rapture His Church filling us with jubilation,
Israel and the other nations will enter the seven year tribulation.
And after millions of people disappear before the eyes of the world,
A great leader will step in and his plan of peace will be unfurled.
With God's Truth and Light banished from the earth at the rapture,
Followed by a strong delusion on man, their hearts he shall capture.
But he is not just a man, but the one doomed to eternal destruction.
And instead of peace many will fall, through Satan's evil seduction.
And many left on the earth will accept his plan as they are in need,
Since they didn't embrace the Truth, God will allow them to believe.
The wicked one will be destroyed at the splendor of Christ's coming,
So believe my friend, and at the rapture you too can be among Him.
God's Truth is still available today, and God wants you to believe,
But if you continue to reject God's Truth, you too will be deceived.
(Copyright © 11/2002)
A spring evening
Outside the irises flower yellow and purple
and I haven’t seen a red one yet
and there are some pink and white blossoms
on the fruit trees
and the streetlights burn continually
glowing orange-yellow
all day and all night
as if the municipality
does not know how to do things right
and in the fading evening light
the moon is full and white
and the evening star is already shining bright
and a hot breeze sweeps in
through the open windows
and I wonder when the first spring rain
is going to fall
and in the distance I see thunder
crashing down
in blue-white flashes, but the storm
is blown away and again the sky is clear
and the black speckled by stars.
poem by Gert Strydom
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A Moon Mystery!
Auspicious or not, crescent Moon is always precious to poets;
Waxing and waning Moons have different effects of superstition;
Crescent Moons good or bad are ever poets’ great inspiration!
Crescent Moon is a basket for carrying flowers of Stars in it;
Crescent Moon is the boat that travels on the ocean of Sky;
Crescent Moon is a fine jewel decorating Lord Siva’s tresses!
Waxing crescent Moon with a Star is very auspicious to Islamites;
Thus silent beauty in the Western Sky encourages worn out souls;
But the waning crescent Moon in the Eastern Sky was a fun on tour!
What a beautiful sight the waning crescent Moon in the Eastern Sky!
On a sudden bus travel in plains I happened to see this in a cold night
Making me wonder as I used to wonder at the Western crescent Moon!
Moon is still a mystery though many rockets are sent there for probes
As the dark side of the Moon is still a dark matter for millions of years!
poem by Ramesh T A
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God’s Lights
Morning’s painting on the sky above, covers this earth like a glove,
Clouds covered by the sun’s rays, filling earth with abundant praise.
With yet another day to unfold, of God’s wonderful Glory to behold,
The beauty fills hearts and minds, with awe for God’s grand design.
Before the sun is overhead, God paints the clouds a gorgeous red,
This as He moves earth out of night, into the brightness of daylight.
At times the sunlight He shrouds, hiding the sun behind the clouds,
Clouds God paints upon the sky, as wide and vast as they are high.
Although the sun is hid from sight, God keeps it there till fall of night,
Then it’s truly veiled from all eyes, by the ever darker evening skies.
When God shows us another side, as He allows the daylight to hide,
As night’s ushered in by Heaven, God’s lesser light starts to descend.
Now under an ever darker canopy, with lights far as the eye can see,
And the moon above phase by phase, to count both nights and days,
God starts with a new moon friend, with the full moon at month’s end.
This is how God lights the skies, above a world that is filled with eyes.
Lights placed above for all to see, by the hand of The God of Eternity.
The Greatest Light we cannot see; The One who died for you and me.
The Light of Christ soon will shine, from the Eternal City for all of time,
No more need of the moon or sun, for the only Light will be God’s Son.
Pink
The Pink butterfly
looking like pink shirts,
My pink thoughts
looking like mom's skirt
My inner soul
has a pink ink
love is pink
from the cry of a baby in the sink
pink is nice
I love it to savory perfection
Pink is a man's color
I make it my selection
Pink is the star
that is iridescent
its a half moon
called a crescent
-Pink-
Christian Alexander Williams
poem by Christian Williams
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Chloe
Chloe, i hang onto the past
Like a chandelier in a darkened room
But your hope is in the future
As light emerges from the gloom.
My sunset will be your dawn
Your happiness will be reborn.
It's snowy, but Chloe, ice will melt away.
Life, the price we have to pay
For the sun will light the bay
When silent fears sail away.
Chloe, we hang our hopes on a crescent moon
The aching in our hearts not just a pleasant tune
Scarred but starred like tender night
We feel the dark but wait for the light.
Our words still survive on a nomadic wind
Our thoughts free and open, with reality twinned.
Be proud, that life's shroud you have cast away
To feel out loud, while others torn, do fray-
Keeping it all inside on this roller- coaster ride
-They had so neatly planned, when love went hand in hand
As passion's fire was fanned.
Then Cupid turned out their light.
We still have the blue crazed night.
Chloe, continue to fly your kite
While the smug are convinced they are right.
Yes, the heart must rule the head
No skeleton ever bled
No feeling, no life, just dead.
Chloe we hang our hopes on a crescent moon.
poem by Kevin East
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Me, Myself & I
I need you!
That was the last word I said to you.
But do I?
'No matter what happens,
I'll always be with you! '
That was the last word you said to me.
But were you really there?
What I can't believe is that I believed every word you said.
I can't believe that I made myself believe
what we had will last.
How could you have said you loved me
when you didn't?
I thought you were my knight and shiny armour
I thought I was your cinderella.
I thought you were my charming prince.
How could you have left without a trace?
`leaving me with the hope to see your face.
It's been a while, time has passed.
I've moved on.
You hurt me bad,
but I'm a survivor.
I'll do just fine without you.
It hurts so much,
but I've learned a lot.
I have come to realize that I don't need you anymore.
I know I'll find the one for me
I know I can confide in me till then
I know I won't let myself down.
All I've got for now is...
Me, Myself & I.
poem by Eunice Ogunleye
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