Sovereignty
Living
someone's else death?
Was that an explicit experiment?
Starting with an Adonis
to stitch
the wounds of angels.
An unlikely
walk through the tumor
of breast, where
no milk ejects
the ancestory. I hold
the words without meaning.
It was a tragic
flow of history.
The echo was searching a sky.
poem by Satish Verma
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Related quotes
A Lament For Adonis
Cytherea, thy dainty Adonis is dying!
Ah, what shall we do?
O Nymphs, let it echo, the voice of your crying,
The greenwood through!
O Forest-maidens, smite on the breast,
Rend ye the delicate-woven vest!
Let the wail ring wild and high:
'Ah for Adonis!' cry.
O Sappho, how canst thou chant the bliss
Of Kypris — after such day as this?
'Oh Adonis, thou leavest me — woe for my lot!
And Eros, my servant, availeth me not!'
So wails Cytherea, grief-distraught.
'Who shall console me for thee? There is none —
Not Ares my god-lover, passionate one
Who sware in his jealousy forth to hale
Hephaestus my spouse from his palace, if he
Dared but to lift his eyes unto me.
Not he can console me, Adonis, for thee!'
Wail for Adonis, wail!
No-man’s-land
Sadness was invading my wounds. Again
I will dip my fingers in bleeding heart
to write a new poem.
A scythe cuts a cloud
that it was not. I reel under
the unexpected rain of wards.
You go up on top ladder
to jump in the hot cauldron,
no pain to drown in bones.
What was the meaning of living
with death daily and still smiling?
A candle makes a hole in your palm!
The brain has an infidel tumor;
if fails to grow and erase you.
You are absent to your being.
poem by Satish Verma
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Dying To Live
Eight kisses of death and I am alive
My chest is still bleeding
Come brother, come,
stitch my wounds.
Whom shall we believe, rebirth
or life after death?
Both are study of wasteland.
To speak through angels is difficult these
days and prayer has run
out its charm.
I want to swim with octopus
again,
to test its suckered tentacles.
The envy of ocean cannot stop me.
Tonight the burning candle is going to live.
poem by Satish Verma
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Echo
Echo, echo...
We come, we go-woah
No I don't want to be just another
Echo, echo...
Everywhere I go
There's something I really need
Everyone I know
Is someone I want to be
Even though
I don't really know me
I better pick it up
Before I let it slip away
I better stick it out
Before I take another day
Into mouth
Everything I say fades out
Echo, echo...
We come, we go-woah
No I don't want to be just another
Echo, echo...
Can I open up your eyes?
Only when the clouds break?
Can I feel the light?
Even though the world shakes
Every night,
You're my quiet satellite
Can I hold you close?
Do her out of focus
And everything I know
I don't even know this
It all falls through
I'm here and I hear you
Echo, echo...
We come, we go-woah
No I don't want to be just another
Echo, echo...
Do you hear me?
Do you hear me?
Cause I need to, just to reach you
Do you hear me?
Coming clearly?
Am I hollow?
Just an echo
Echo, echo...
We come, we go-woah
No I don't want to be just another
Echo, echo...
Echo, echo...
We come, we go-woah
No I don't want to be just another
Echo, echo...
song performed by by Vertical Horizon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Rock of Cashel
My mother told me on the bus-
about the tumor in her breast.
She told me in that public place
I was stunned; She, self possessed
she was so calm- no hint of fear.
I was floored by what she said
I was very young back then
with limited knowledge of the dead.
Post surgery she did just fine.
It turned out the tumor was benign.
My mom would say “It’s not my time”.-
That was her way. She spoke that line.
She did possess that quiet strength
Bequeathed her from High Kings of old
She was a rock of Christian faith
From which derived her peace of soul.
She had that quiet confidence
Death itself held her in awe
Faith banished any fear of Death
who feared to linger at HER door.
poem by John F. McCullagh
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A Pocket Handkerchief To Hem
A pocket handkerchief to hem -
Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear!
How many stitches it will take
Before it's done, I fear.
Yet set a stitch and then a stitch,
And stitch and stitch away,
Till stitch by stitch the hem is done -
And after work is play!
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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All Times
Excuse me
I am here to say something
The meaning of my say
Be different to different persons
The meaning of my say
Is equally important to all
The meaning of my say
You are searching and searching
That is not fixed not codified
The meaning of my say
Is true to all times to come
And you are not all timers
Who can know everything
Every meaning of my word my say
Excuse me
I am to say something.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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The Death Of Adonis
Fragments 108, 110, 115, 117, 116, 111, 114, and 113 combined.
This is the lamentation-song
For Adonis — woe for Adonis, woe!
Thus wailed Aphrodite in anguish-throe,
As she strove to hold him back from death:
'Let thine heart not faint, O love! Be strong!
O me, it burns me, thy failing breath!
It kindles through all my being a fire!
My heart is aflame with despairing desire!'
She calls to her Eros of golden wing,
She bids him steep in the ice-cold spring
Fine linen, and lay on Adonis' brow: —
'O love, let its coolness revive thee now! . . .
Vain, vain! — his eyes see me no more;
They are fixed in a gaze upon Hades' door!
They close — he sleeps — not the sleep of the dead!
Hush, stir not a pebble with heedless tread!
No, no! this is death! Now remaineth to me
No sweetness on earth — nor honey nor bee!'
Dry leaf [Foaia veştedă]
Wind has brought me to the window
A dry leaf with its strong breath –
It's a letter without cover
Sent to me by the grim death.
I shall keep it, I shall lay it
Near those sheets upon the stand,
Which I once received with pleasure
From my lover's tender hand.
As the tree forgets its dry leaf
Which on wind floats like a boat,
She may have forgotten all these
Yellow sheets on which she wrote.
And the words of this flirtation,
Which is dead, watch me with strife,
They were proved to be deceptive
I demand to end their life.
Yet, I cannot set on fire
Their vain meaning sweet and wry,
It is tragic and unpleasant
That they cannot quickly die.
I shall keep the grief and sorrow,
And the fortune, and the fun,
When the loss makes me to suffer
To re-read them one by one.
Yet, the gentle news of her death
On the sheets I add obsessed:
Death heals all the wounds and surely
The hot passions come to rest.
poem by Mihai Eminescu, translated by Octavian Cocoş
Submitted by anonym
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For my Loved
Starting today,
I will write for you
I'll pray for you
I'll do that for your recovery
I'll manage to offer
everything for you
Starting today,
I'll care more about you
I'll ask all the angels
and saints to be with you
in all your sufferings
Starting today,
I'll tell them that
I care a lot about you
and I'm willing
to give-up everything
just for you, my dear
So starting today
be able to hold on to
that hope in your heart
and cling to whatever joy
you can have
Don't hesitate
I'm just here for you
for you are special
here in my heart
poem by Hazel Calumarde
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Slit the wrist and let it flow.
Hate and pain, feelin’ it in my veins.
Hate and pain etched in my mind.
Love and hate are all the same,
Life and death are all our problems, but you treat them as there mine.
Slit the wrist and let it flow! !
Slit the wrist and let it flow! !
Life and death are all the same in my mind.
Life and death are all the same,
Play with fire and get burned.
Accusations flying my way, will they ever stop?
Slit the wrist and let it flow.
Slit the wrist and let it flow.
Life and death are all the same.
Life and death, when will it end?
Anger and frustration all boiling to the top.
Vengeance and Violence seems to be the only way.
Slit the wrist and let it flow! !
Slit the wrist and let it flow! !
Life and death, it’s all the same.
Life and death, is it my turn yet?
Death is living again.
Death is bliss I will never discover.
Slit the wrist and let it flow! !
Slit the wrist and let it flow! !
Life and death, it’s all the same.
Life and death, a new fire is born.
Death is an eternal fire being blown out.
Death is being free from the shackles of life.
Slit the wrist and let it flow! !
Slit the wrist and let it flow! !
Life and death, it’s all the same.
Life and death, it’s our destiny.
Death is the only escape.
Death is the forth stomach of a cow.
By Ariel Morris.
poem by Ariel Morris
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What Christ gives us is quite explicit if his own words are interpreted according to their Aramaic meaning. The expression 'This is my Body' means this is myself.
quote by Karl Rahner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Starting Today
(words & music by robertson)
Starting today
Im teaching my heart
Not to ache anymore
Just cause were apart
No more will I dream
Of your sweet loving ways
Gonna learn to forget you
Starting today
And when memories haunt me
And the tears starts to flow
Ill just think of the sorrow
You caused me to know
No more for the past
To return will I pray
Gonna live for tomorrow
Starting today
Starting today
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Promise To Love You Forever
if i cease living
or loving
i promise you
i do not sit lazily watching the fading of the sun
i will take this journey
to the last edge of the horizon
searching for love and life and meaning
and purpose
and then when i living and loving ceases upon me
seizes me into silence and nothingness
or when death embraces me so tightly
i shall still take that last breath
exhaling
still what you are really to me
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Man Wrote Because He Had Nothing Else He Could Do
A man wrote because he had nothing else he could do-
Even when the writing lost its Meaning
He had no choice but to go on with it
Until the Meaning came back-
And in his quiet sadness and obsession
And in his pain and loneliness and rage
And in his putting all his feeling in his words
One small echo of redemption sometimes perhaps came
Which said:
Somewhere else there is a Universe with or without words
In which whatever you are or do is responded to by 'Yes'.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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A real poem
What is real poem?
Is it flow of words or natural theme?
Does it echo sound of water?
Does it have capacity to alter?
To reduce the agony and pain?
To give honest call to rain
Words to flow in the direction of sea
Mix with the splendid music of tree
No words of differing
No more suffering
Helping hand with some offering
Music to their help in altering
The complete scene in harmony
Bees to sit at once place with more honey
Peace and calm with flow of words
Is it not the message of lords?
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Angel of Death
We found rest when he was absent,
They were in death, in life with absence.
We curved the living as a luxury
To sustain our feelings and emotions
Successfully achieved by our whims and wishes.
Gangs of angels were visualised and found,
Like the dead, these accomplished profoundly,
But a doubt never remained as to why we read
The images of light as something called everything.
The angels became us when they were young and we old.
The death remained on us when we were dead
And living concerned us, as a term to use once.
The deathly ones saw our eyes and ears move,
Where were the angels of death?
poem by Naveed Akram
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Goodbye To You
Of all the things I believe in
I just want to get it over with
tears from behind my eyes
but I do not cry
Counting the days that past me by
I've been searching deep down in my soul
Words that I'm hearing are starting to get old
Looks like I'm starting all over again
The last three years were just pretend and I say
Goodbye to you
Goodbye to everything I thought I knew
You were the one I love
The one thing that I tried to hold on to
I still get lost in your eyes
And it seems like I can't live a day without you
Closing my eyes till you chase my thoughts away
To a place where I am blinded by the light but it's not right
Goodbye to you
Goodbye to everything I thought I knew
You were the one I loved
The one thing that I tried to hold on to
Ohhh yeah
It hurts to want everything and nothing at the same time
I want whats yours and I want whats mine
I want you but I'm not giving in this time
Goodbye to you
Goodbye to everything I thought I knew
You were the one I loved
The one thing that I tried to hold on to
The one thing that I tried to hold on to
Goodbye to you
Goodbye to everything I thought I knew
You were the one I loved
The one thing that I tried to hold on to
We the stars fall and I lie awake
Your my shooting star
song performed by by Michelle Branch from Spirit Room
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Look Around
Look for me, and then realise I am behind you,
I see you breathing when words connect.
The tiniest house is upset, for one word,
And another word judges the meaning of living.
This house is upset physically.
The Walls are damaged
Like my head, and the legs we walk with
Are dead.
This bigger joke deletes the record,
For you have no essentials,
And so the meaning is that of living -
You are barely alive,
But God is with You.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Words Sometimes Take On A Own Meaning
Words sometimes take on a own meaning
and sometimes they are sharp and painful
as if there is much more to words
as if a kind of secret knowledge hides in them
that are sometimes something moving.
Words sometimes take on a own meaning
but somehow words can at times miss things
and are sometimes dependent on feelings
as if there is much more to words
when through it all love brings a kind of bonding
and so you and I are attractive to each other.
Words sometimes take on a own meaning
and daily a bond develops between us,
while you become more considerable to me,
as if there is much more to words
you constantly live in my thoughts,
while love becomes real through words.
Words sometimes take on a own meaning
as if there is much more to words…
poem by Gert Strydom
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