Repeating History
My nativity at peril
I wanted to stay away from myself
seeking anonymity in inwardness
Death had drawn a circle
my mode of survival depended on
the hopelessness of life
The ant-hills were growing!
The final assault will take place at night
at spiritual depths.
I will be seething with fake acoustics.
Kissing the blue lips of dawn
night bids adieu.
I will move quietly behind the corpse
A dark tribute to the mother of sorrow.
Flames on river, my body was burning
in blue waves
I was repeating history.
poem by Satish Verma
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Related quotes
All Night Blue
Youve got a life somewhere without me
Ive gone on without you
It hasnt been easy getting used to
Being lonely and tonight is an all night blue
And I wonder how you look and who looks at you
In your nightgown
I can almost feel your body
Your warm and loving body when I lay down
Chorus:
Its an all night blue
Remembering you
Its an all night blue
Wondering whos loving you ... all night
Well it hurts me to see that youre
Happy without me cause I still need you
I just drank up my heart
Set it empty on the table cause i
Aint got nothing better to do
Still I wonder how you look and
Who looks at you every morning
I can still feel your warm breath
You kissing me on the chest
Im just dreaming
Chorus
song performed by by John Prine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Blue Me
Blue me, blue me
Blue is the color
That fits best on me
Im blue
Just as blue as can be
Blue me, blue me
I cry
And I die
I lie awake at night
And I question why
Must it be
I can never be free
Blue me, blue me
My heart is heavy
But its empty inside
No one to love me
Or to lay down beside
Im blue
The queen of sorrow
Wears royal blue
My luck aint changin
Is it ever goin to
Im blue, oh Im blue
Why must I wear this robe of blue misery
Blue me, blue me
Ooh
This sad old feeling
Is breakin me down
No satisfaction with these blues hangin round
Lord, Im blue
Oh, Im so blue
Why cant I shake it tell me where will this end
When will I get out of this blue rut Im in
Oh, Im blue
Looks like the blues just took a liking to me
Blue me, blue me
Blue me, blue me
Blue is the color that fits best on me
Ooooh, Im blue
Im just as blue as can be
Blue me,
Blue me
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Met Death
I was waiting, watching one day
When Death came along, looking
As if there was something he wanted to say
His hair was as black as the sky at night
And in the wind it blew like smoke
He had come a long way in his worn black cloak
So I invited him in and I did say
If you’d like to you can stay
But Death said:
“I’m only passing through
For the clock’s hands they say
They are ticking the seconds of my life away”
And I answered,
Thinking I’d misunderstood
As Death’s dark black eye gleamed under his dark black hood
“If your Death, how can you die? ”
You see, Death didn’t seem the kind to lie.
And Death wasn’t phased at all,
“No longer Death I may become,
Or so says He if I don’t complete
The most horrible, horrible, feat.
“The most horrible feat? ”
I had to say
Could it be so horrible,
That Death couldn’t say?
“Death, ” said Death, “is the horrible feat.”
And then he faded away, like smoke into the blue, blue sky
But I think, before he left, I might have seen him cry.
I had never in my life, seen Death again
Until the night I stood outside in the rain
When he said, “I’m sorry miss, but this is good bye.”
And I found out what it’s like to die.
So we went, and parted, to each our own way,
But one more time I want to heard Death say, “I’m sorry miss, -“
Marking the end of the day
poem by Jinny Tikanus
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You Know How Is It To Be Blue
you know how is it to be blue
you sailed once on top and you plunged
deep down under
the rage of the river
you know how is it to be inside
a certain darkness and silence
you know how is it be just a river
this will haunt us forever
you know how is it to be inside the cave
filled with water and rage and rampage
of stone and waves
you know how is it to be a river
flowing and going away
you know how is it to be bluer than blue
and foamy and angry
you know how is it to be deep just being deep
and it is enough for me and then you go away.
let me stay on the depths of these mysteries
i like the blueness of blue, the deepening of the deep
i like it here, deep and silent, even without you.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Sorrow blue
Of sorrow blue, and life in the mist
Nights in the shadows of a dream
Of sorrow blue, I’m losing the rest
Of my life, drowned in the stream
With the sunset that bites my heart
I can not help but to feel alone & cold
Of sorrow blue, I am just a part
I’m not me, to the dark my soul was sold
In sorrow and blues, hours like days
Like year, years as salty as our tears
Rusted faces form old lives, in many ways
Reminds me of lost hopes and living fears
Sorrow blue, moments before the dawn
That is when we part ways like old friends
With the sunrise, I am no longer a pawn
For my sorrow, no longer worried about the ends
Every day there is a Rendez-Vous
With my inner self and my eternal fall
With the other me, my sorrow blue
Every day, I will pick up the sorrow’s call
poem by Haytem Fakroun
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Oh mummy don't
At night my eyes cry
Oh mummy don't your making me die
At night my nose turns cold and red
Oh mummy don't hit me on the leg
At night my lips get chapped and cut
Oh mummy dont squeeze my gut
At night my head hurts
Oh mummy don't whip me with your leather skirt
At night my body shivers
Oh mummy don't you'll scare my teddy quivers
At night my heart stopped beating
Oh mummy please stop repeating
At night I pray I were dead
Oh mummy don't cant you see the tears I shed
At night I know my life is mean and dark
Oh mummy don't the scares turn into question marks
At night I weep to myself quietly
On mummy don't you're frightning me
At night I have learned dirty words
Oh mummy don't please say this in nice words
At night I pick up the knife
Oh mummy I am ready to take my life
This poem I have written is just to tell the world out there that kids DO NOT deserve
this kind of life, so if you ever do see something like this going on why don't you do something
about it. In this world 50% kids die because of child abuse, So don't leave it if you see it
do something about it and save a life.
poem by Sumiya Khan
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Blue is the Color
Blue is the sky
late at night
blue is the sky
early in the morning
blue is the sky
in the midst of day
blue is the sky
blue is the sky
and the rain
and the clouds
that comes falling down
blue is the color
of peace and mellow
blue is the color
of sadness and sorrow
blue is the color
of all
of life
poem by Dezire Diaz
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Dark Blue By Jack Mannequinn
I have, I have you breathing down my neck, breathing down my neck
I don't, don't know what you could possibly expect under this condition so
I'll wait, I'll wait for the ambulance to come, ambulance to come
Pick us up off the floor what did you possibily expect under this condition so
Slow down, this nights a perfect shade of
Dark blue, dark blue
Have you ever been alone in a crowded room while I'm here with you
I said the world could be burning and burning down
Dark blue, dark blue
Have you ever been alone in a crowded room while I'm here with you
I said the world could be burning 'til there's nothing but dark blue
Just dark blue
And this flood, this flood is slowly rising up, swallowing the ground
Beneath, my feet. Tell me how anybody thinks under this condition so
I'll swim, I'll swim as the water rises up sun is sinking down and now
All I can see are the planets in a row suggesting it's best that I
Slow down this nights a perfect shade of
Dark blue, dark blue
Have you ever been alone in a crowded room while I'm here with you
I said the world could be burning and burning down
Dark blue, dark blue
Have you ever been alone in a crowded room while I'm here with you
I said the world could be burning dark blue
We were boxing, we were boxing the stars
We were boxing (we were boxing) you were swinging from Mars
And then the water reached the west coast
And took the power lines, the power lines
And it was me and you and the whole town underwater
There was nothing we could do
It was dark blue
Dark blue, dark blue
Have you ever been alone in a crowded room while I'm here with you
I said the world could be burning and burning down
Dark blue, dark blue
Have you ever been alone in a crowded room while I'm here with you
I said the world could be burning now there's nothing but dark blue
If you've ever been alone you'll know dark blue
If you've ever been alone you'll know, you'll know
poem by Joshua Burckhard
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And In The House
And in the house
All is now silent
I rise and grope
In the dark, dark
And lo! Before me
A blue light I
A thin blue light
See I all a-shining
And leading me
And guiding me
Into the dark
In the long night
In to the long night!
Ah! father, father
Where are
You leading me:
The thin blue light
Now veers to here
And then to there
Now up
Now down
It plays:
And in the night
The long lone night
The seconds turn and turn!
And in the house
The lonely house
A soundless sound
Is humming:
The light
The thin blue light
Is leading still leading
And in the night
No time is passing
No hope of dawn
Or day
Is coming:
But dark
And dark:
Yet in the night
This night
Of black
A thrill felt I
And happiness
That never felt!
poem by Emmanuel George Cefai
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Death of Dusk
The sun resigns,
bleeds out the vestiges –
remnants of the day.
Exsanguination edges into twilight:
red-brown hangs;
upwards darkens:
blue-brown,
blue-black,
death-black,
disquiet – furtive,
like ghoul-ridden fog.
A sombre moon assumes its role,
gushing silver-white lymph upon the muted scape –
a prequel of supernatural undertones
to chill the scene,
ice the spine,
kill the brain –
we have unnerved the very firmament.
But now a shadow closing down the globe:
dinosaurian cloud shrouds the moon glaze,
claims the late hour –
declared in a dying crow caw.
I, the hidden owl
– nemesis of claustrophobic minds –
awake! for mammal flesh –
fresh, jerking out its warmth in dance of death.
Rock-still I perch in sculptured oneness
with my crooked night-tree,
emanating nocturnal allure.
Together we scowl
together we play the dark
upon the land and sky
and mind
while you lie as dead in your box.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
dark dark dark dark night dark dark dark dark night
dark dark dark dark night
dark dark dark dark night dark dark
dark dark dark dark night dark dark dark dark night
dark dark dark dark night dark dark
dark dark dark dark night
dark dark dark dark night dark dark dark dark night
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Sleep In My Arms Lullaby
The somnolent skies have ceased seething, for day's nearly through
And the winds echo whispering thoughts of returning to you.
The heavens throb, pulsing and bleeding in crimsons, once blue,
Their passions, like flames, fill my veins as you pass into view;
The breeze holds its breath as you touch and embrace me anew
And smouldering clouds withdraw, blushing, and paling their hue.
The twilight is painted with wandering dreams of your charms
So close your eyes slowly and slip into sleep in my arms.
The pendulous moon appears, sweeping the fog from up high
Distilling the drops into notes of a hushed lullaby,
The quivering tunes unfold tales which amaze, mystify,
The stories they tell reflect love as revealed by your sighs,
And tremulous stars fling a fire that fevers the skies,
Their fury is burning, alive in the depths of your eyes.
The twilight is painted with wandering dreams of your charms
So close your eyes slowly and slip into sleep in my arms.
The desolate shores moan, seduced by tempestuous tides
Which flow in the rhythm of flesh as our senses collide,
A quiet explodes from the stillness of night amplified,
A lingering kiss bids adieu till the morning breaks wide
When roosters come conjuring dawn with voluptuous pride
Enticing the sun into scything the night, starry-eyed.
The twilight is painted with wandering dreams of your charms
So close your eyes slowly and slip into sleep in my arms.
poem by Terry O'Leary
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That blue sea...
The waves are splashing against the cloud mountains
I stop and listen as I take a drink from life's fountain.
The clouds roll in on me so heavily
I feel the rains presence as I hear to the roaring sea.
That blue sea that takes you in and washes you away
To somewhere you may or may not want to stay.
That blue sea that you look in for answers
that blue ocean that questions your questions
or gives you an answer within a question
That blue sea that leaves your thoughts
within its deep blue content.
That feeling it gives leaving you absent...
of what could happen as that blue sea waves.
Washing away the thoughts and emotion you felt
That blue sea that your secrets swim within
That blue sea you float in continuously
That blue sea of reality.
where the dolphins are swimming
while the sunlight is dimming.
as they swim across the blue open sea...
you realize the dolphin that you are meant to be.
poem by Deep Dark Soul Poet
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Through A Peek-hole
From high up on the hill
Goddess Durga oversees
The three intercepting canals
And the mighty river
Tears of an ancient
Personal sorrow
Flow into the river...
The surrounding hills
Jutting into the river
Stood mute witnesses
To those dark shady nights
Absorbing the muffled
Helpless innocent protestations
Why did the Goddess
Prefer to turn a deaf ear
Contrary to her image
Of squelching the evil?
Night after night
The much favourite sky
Would take an awkward bow...
Decades of flow
Didn't seems to change anything!
Everything's just the same;
The canals and the river and the Goddess
Only the hills look a tad arid
The sky continues to cling to the hills
But the tears of a personal sorrow
Now flow into the sea
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Sullen Girl
Days like this, I dont know what to do with myself.
All day - and all night.
I wander the halls along the walls and under my breath.
I say to myself.
I need fuel - to take flight -
And theres too much going on.
But its calm under the waves, in the blue of my oblivion.
Under the waves in the blue of my oblivion.
Is that why they call me a sullen girl - sullen girl.
The dont know I used to sail the deep and tranquil sea.
But he washed me shore and he took my pearl -
And left an empty shell of me.
And theres too much going on.
But its calm under the waves, in the blue of my oblivion.
Under the waves in the blue of my oblivion.
Under the waves in the blue of my oblivion.
Its calm under the waves in the blue of my oblivion.
song performed by by Fiona Apple
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Je t'adore à l'égal de la voûte nocturne (More Than Night's Vault, It's You That I Adore)
Je t'adore à l'égal de la voûte nocturne,
Ô vase de tristesse, ô grande taciturne,
Et t'aime d'autant plus, belle, que tu me fuis,
Et que tu me parais, ornement de mes nuits,
Plus ironiquement accumuler les lieues
Qui séparent mes bras des immensités bleues.
Je m'avance à l'attaque, et je grimpe aux assauts,
Comme après un cadavre un choeur de vermisseaux,
Et je chéris, ô bête implacable et cruelle!
Jusqu'à cette froideur par où tu m'es plus belle!
I Adore You as Much as the Nocturnal Vault...
I adore you as much as the nocturnal vault,
O vase of sadness, most taciturn one,
I love you all the more because you flee from me,
And because you appear, ornament of my nights,
More ironically to multiply the leagues
That separate my arms from the blue infinite.
I advance to attack, and I climb to assault,
Like a swarm of maggots after a cadaver,
And I cherish, implacable and cruel beast,
Even that coldness which makes you more beautiful.
— Translated by William Aggeler
More Than Night's Vault, It's You That I Adore
More than night's vault, it's you that I adore,
Vessel of sorrow, silent one, the more
Because you flee from me, and seem to place,
Ornament of my nights! more leagues of space
Ironically between me and you
Than part me from these vastitudes of blue.
I charge, attack, and mount to the assault
As worms attack a corpse within a vault.
And cherish even the coldness that you boast,
By which, harsh beast, you subjugate me most.
— Translated by Roy Campbell
I Worship You
I worship you, O proud and taciturn,
As I do night's high vault; O sorrow's urn,
I love you all the more because you flee
And seem, gem of my nights, ironically
To multiply the weary leagues that sunder
My arms from all infinity's blue wonder.
I skirmish and I climb to the attack,
I, a worms' chorus on a corpse's back,
O fierce cruel beast, I cherish to the full
The very chill that makes you beautiful.
— Translated by Jacques LeClercq
poem by Charles Baudelaire
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Dark Becomes Dawn
Dark as pitch - Dawn spreads light
Dark as dead - Dawn expires graves
Dark withers - Dawn freshness wears
Dark un-paths - Dawn re-strides.
Dark dapples gray - Dawn paints days
Dark specters doubt - Dawn assuredness' gate
Dark limitless plain - Dawn corrals night
Dark swifts shadows - Dawn hastens un-obscures.
Dark dissolves pace - Dawn zeniths one's range
Dark devours - Dawn sun rises
Dark bends down relief - Dawn uplifts sight
Dark dismantles - Dawn scatters golden arrows.
Dark de-flames - Dawn matches day
Dark invisibles - Dawn globes light
Dark unfolds dark dreams - Dawn un-sanctions screams
Dark submissively retires - Dawn crimson splendor.
'2008'
poem by Robert Sheridan
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A dream
Adieu! Adieu! O my sweet fellow
It's time to part from pillow
The tyrant sun captured the east
Calling to cease the night feast
The fragrance and charm of a night
Stirring my heart and passion ignite
Could you be the Helen of my Troy?
Make me immortal in love and joy
Thy coral lips and blue bright eyes
Take my love in seven skies.
poem by Gulsher john
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At The Last.
The sky grows white with the moon,
And the sea yearns up to the night
As the soul to an unknown height,
Drawn thence by a starry rune.
Only a lost wind strays,
Like the breath of Passion blown
In the vault of the night unknown;
And the heart in me sobs and says:
'After a while we, too,
Shall rest as the stars above,
When we have no more to do
With the dream of life and love.'
O Time! thy feet that run
Over the hills and waves,
Over the cradles and graves,
From the first to the final sun!
Some day thou too shalt cease —
Some way there'll come to thee
Death's white tranquility,
The boon of an awful peace —
When the latest grief shall flow
With the surge that drifts away,
And the Night shall no more go
In her endless chase of Day.
Then shall the worn heart rest,
Then shall the sad Sea yearn
No more for the Moon's return,
Like a bird on its frozen nest
Dead, with her young ones dead
Under her breast on the bough,
Where nothing can wake them now —
Not the Dawn with its golden tread:
Where Death has been good to all,
Good to the mother and young,
And the dreams are beyond recall,
And the songs have all been sung.
So, at the last, to sleep!
So, at the last, to be
Still as the dead still sea!
Never to wake and weep,
Never to know Love's pain,
Never to yearn on for
What is gone for evermore;
To be as we were again
Ere we came o'er the bourne of birth,
Ere we knew of the fading flowers,
Of love and of life on Earth
And the hearts that were not ours!
poem by Robert Crawford
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Invocation II
COME to-night in a dream to-night,
Come as you used to do,
Come in the gown, in the gown of white,
Come in the ribbon of blue;
Come in the virgin's colours you wear,
Come through the dark and the dew,
Come with the scent of the night in your hair,
Come as you used to do.
Blue and white of your eyes and your face,
White of your gown and blue,
Will you not come from the happy place,
Come as you used to do?
Tears so many, so many tears
Where there were once so few--
Can they not wash the gray of the years
From the white of your gown and blue?
poem by Edith Nesbit
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One Blue Buffalo (Sestina)
Snow swirled and blew over the plain
the minutes melted into hours
the frosted buffalo stood still
solid against the breath of time
it faced life and death with scotch
colored eyes, affected by nothing and no one
each winter struggle the buffalo won
illustrated mastery of blue sky and plain—
wicked winds and flying ice could not scotch
survival that desperately depended on each hour
it was the buffalo’s time—the natives’ time
and without hesitation it remained still
history remembers lost time, still
it is accepted by most and accurate to no one
misrepresentations are drawn by this time—
what happened on the buffalo’s plain
or in the blue of each pond, each hour
history changes—reality is scotched
wicked truths, told through fifths of Scotch
through the gaze of the present hold time still,
moments disregard the buffalo to becomes ours,
the blue past of many is unwillingly chained to one—
ancient sunsets over purple and yellow plains
are prisoners of industry, technology, history and time
ancient senses remain unaffected by lavender, sage or thyme
they cannot revive what books have done to scotch
the blue buffalo that dotted the wicked plain
the petrified past is bound to remain still,
years, days, faces, herds, species become one—
books have the inability to retrieve a single hour
or a history that is the buffalo’s, the natives’, ours
when books are replaced by computers, in time,
history will be reborn, all of our days will become one
technology will distort this time, scotch
our truths, a hundred thousand sunsets will remain still
billions of blue lives will paint a picture that’s plain
our truths and a past we’ll never know become scotched
time is irrelevant when lives mesh to singular sights—everything’s still
one blue buffalo stands on a museum wall in the whirl of winter winds, silent against time’s plain
poem by Jane L. Carman
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