Sunflowers
A preacher was shedding
dirty tears
for burning hills.
Pinned up on tongue
was a slogan.
Death for all sunflowers.
Draped in blood
who was trespassing
the sickle moon?
I cannot raise the mist
where you stand naked
in sunlight.
Somebody has killed
the pathological god.
I am starting a new kitchen.
poem by Satish Verma
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Related quotes
Sickle
SICKLE
Love moon and its nature,
Don`t make it a sickle,
Don`t divide moon between Hindu and Mohanden or Christian,
Don`t shed blood in the universe,
Moon is moon,
Man is man,
Don`t divide and try to cut it,
With a sickle
poem by Dr. Ram Sharma
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Now More Than Ever
If you believe
Wont you please raise your hands
Lets hear your voices
Let us know where you stand
Dont shout from the shadows
Cause it wont mean a dammn
Now more than ever
Chorus:
Now more than ever
The world needs love
Not just a slogan
But the world needs love
Now more than ever
I cant stand alone
Now more than ever
If I was to buy you
A diamond ring
Make you my princess
Would it mean anything
Would you take me for granted
And just curse my name
Now more than ever
Chorus:
Now more than ever
The world needs love
Not just a slogan
But the world needs love
Now more than ever
I cant stand alone
Now more than ever
Who am I to say
What needs to be done
I am just nobody
Another lost one
Caught between whats left
And what needs to be done
Now more than ever
The loss of love
The loss of our dreams
Its not too late
Chorus:
Now more than ever
The world needs love
Not just a slogan
But the world needs love
Now more than ever
I cant stand alone
Now more than ever
Now more than ever
The world needs love
Not just a slogan
But the world needs love
Now more than ever
I cant stand alone
Now more than ever
song performed by by John Mellencamp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Forgotten Hills
Again I was giving chase
to a mirage.
Wiping off the transient thoughts
oozing from every orifice,
I will sell my dreams today.
Limb by limb,
the naked and brute will buy
the bonanza.
For a lost scent
I wandered from moon to moon
flitting past the sky of doves,
and the lonely winds
of crowded griefs.
The trampled earth
will not soak the joy of burning sun.
The tree and the flowers,
and the seeds falling in a heap
went unnoticed.
Now I will go in the forgotten hills
through mist and rains.
Give me some more pain,
it makes me move faster.
poem by Satish Verma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Naked Man!
only the naked man,
who's left all baggage behind,
can stand in the heat of the fire,
and slay the corporate beast!
only the naked man,
who wears his scars with pride,
can forgive the unforgivable,
and so heal this land.
only the naked man,
without pretense or game,
can stand up to the truth,
and set the captives free!
only the naked man,
with nothing left to lose,
can find the light
in a sky darkened by greed.
only the naked man,
beaten and cursed,
will stand and give a hand
without seeing your face...
only the naked man...
no longer praying to an unknown god,
will beat the sacred drum,
that wipes away your tears...
only the naked man!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Other God Was Sleeping
Time within the earth hour
was lengthening.
The other god was sleeping.
Becoming was inviting the death
while climbing.
Frostbite amputates the memory.
Ending without beginning,
I was asking the seeker to stop
searching the answers.
The houses were burning on the road,
silence, had a vertical sound,
no words, no tongue.
Death had tears of blood
riding on the horseback
it was charging on the wandering incense.
poem by Satish Verma
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Dirty Fingernail
dirty dirty fingernails...
dirty dirty fingernails...
Out of the shower, on to the bathroom floor
Out in the kitchen, underneath the casserole
dirty dirty fingernails...
dirty dirty fingernails...
(It takes a lot of energy to make that sound)
Out of the shower, on to the bathroom floor
Out in the kitchen, underneath the casserole
Out on the patio, out in the great outdoors
song performed by by Modest Mouse
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Upon Gazing At The Cut Sunflowers Of Vincent Van Gogh
upon seeing the cut sunflowers of vincent van gogh
i cannot but think about the tragic moment when
he cut his ear, when blood oozed
when at the end, finally he took his life away,
this thing happens when one knows much about
the life of another
this familiarity that breeds contempt,
and so gazing again at the painting of vincent,
i start with real sunflowers in my mind, the one that mother
planted in her garden when she was alive,
i think of the sun and the sunshine touching my face
i think about warmth and life and oozing verve
the vivacity of all things around my little world,
the field of sunflowers and the bees and the butterflies
and birds
i pretend i have not read about the life of vincent
i pretend i have not heard about the stories of mother
i just gaze again at the cut sunflowers. just that.
now there is joy in my heart. The suicide story does not exist
in the bold yellow petals, on those three huge sunflowers
look at them again, they are the symbols of our smiles.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Excessive interest in pathological behavior was itself pathological.
quote by Arthur C. Clarke
Submitted by Catalin Popescu
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At Journey's End
I'll not lie down, nor sit and wait
The black-draped barge to float on by,
Nor offer up my throat, like ears of corn
To wait the sickle sigh,
Should death's bleak hooded figure call
He'll find that I have quit the town
And left no forwarding address
That he might use to track me down.
One step ahead, I'll change my name
Then dye my hair a rich dark brown,
Or failing that, I'll shave my head
And raise my brows, an inch around.
I'll grow a beard, or cut it off
If I have grown a beard before
Then take to sailing out from ports
Where Death has sallied forth once more.
I'll dress my woman in long boots
And tie her hair up out of sight,
Then we will slink from town to village
Making love by day, not night.
We'll sleep in hay ricks, fields and barns
While one keeps watch, each turn about,
So if his hood should cause alarms
We'll both be gone by morning light.
We'll trek up mountains, hills and valleys
Everywhere that he's just been,
We'll tail him as he travels onward
Scything through each village green,
And when he corners us at last
We'll drink long from a stirrup cup
And cheat him from his final scene
By leaving life, before he's up.
6 March 2009
poem by David Lewis Paget
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Sun And Steel
You killed your first man at 13
Killer instinct, Animal supreme
By 16 you had learned to fight
The way of the warrior, you took it as your right
Sunlight, falling on your steel
Death in life is your ideal
Life is like a wheel
Sunlight, falling on your steel
Death in life is your ideal
Life is like a wheel
Through earth and water, fire and wind
You came at last - nothing was the end
Make a cut by fire and stone
Take you and your blade and break you both in two
Break you both in two
Sunlight, falling on your steel
Death in life is your ideal
Life is like a wheel
Sunlight, falling on your steel
Death in life is your ideal
Life is like a wheel - rolling on and on
Sunlight, falling on your steel
Death in life is your ideal
Life is like a wheel
Sunlight, falling on your steel
Death in life is your ideal
Life is like a wheel
Sunlight, falling on your steel
Death in life is your ideal
Life is like a wheel
Sunlight, falling on your steel
Death in life is your ideal
Life is like a wheel - and it's rolling still
song performed by by Iron Maiden
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Warming Up
You could feel it.
The fear in that pristine howl
writhing in throat. Something was
wrong with the sunflowers. A genital
cutting had brought the snowdusting
on mutilated emotions.
A premonition warns. We are shining
on wrong side, under dictates of religion.
The cult will take care of mouth. You
will celebrate the breaking up of man.
The bone between the lips.
I am collecting the dirty threads of
loyalty to stitch the amnesia. They were ready to
applause the demise of moon. No more
sheen on the trees, lake and hills.
I am hauling up the skeletion of the republic.
poem by Satish Verma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Blood Too Hot
I came all around the world just to be with you
Ive been flying supersonic, between black and blue
I promised I'd be there
And now I'm here and I won't go
Before I give you everything I've got
You left everything behind, just to feel that touch
To join the family of spiders. really means so much
There's a storm up in the air
It's the power we all share
When it runs through our flesh and blood
lf your blood is so hot
Stand up and rock with me
lf your blood is too hot, rock with me
lf your blood is so hot
Stand up and rock with me
lf your blood is too hot, rock with me
I came all around the world, like on flying wings
To hear you screaming out for more, still means everything
Raise your hands up in the air
I swear to you that I'II be there
I swear it, in the name of rock
lf your blood is so hot
Stand up and rock with me
lf your blood is too hot, rock with me
lf your blood is so hot
Stand up and rock with me
lf your blood is too hot, rock with me
song performed by by Scorpions
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Burning Embers
Fly through the glass of a window pane
fall through the sky feeling the rain
Walk on broken glass your tell-tale heart
Look through the bars of a dirty jail cell
soar to heaven dive to hell
Listen to your tell-tale heart
Setting fires in the ghost twilight
we see you dress we bolt with fright
You see an apparition disappear
Jump to the table, jump up the stairs
stand on the rooftop, looking out through the air
Walk on broken glass your tell-tale heart
Lenore, am I dreaming
How can death keep us apart, mmmm..
Lenore, I see you burning
And I'd walk on burning embers
walk on burning embers
Walk on burning embers your tell-tale heart
Walk on burning embers
walk on burning embers
Walk on burning embers your tell-tale heart
Walk on burning embers
walk on burning embers
Walk on burning embers your tell-tale heart
Heart
heart
Heart
heart
Walk on burning embers
walk on burning embers
Walk on burning embers your tell-tale heart
your tell-tale heart
Walk on burning embers
walk on burning embers
Walk on burning embers your tell-tale heart
Walk on burning embers
walk on burning embers
Walk on burning embers your tell-tale heart
Walk on burning embers
walk on burning embers
Walk on burning embers your tell-tale heart
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Montsgur
I stand alone in this desolate space
In death they are truly alive
Massacred innocence, evil took place
The angels were burning inside
Centuries later I wonder why
What secret that they took to their grave
Still burning heretics under our skies
Religion's still burning inside
At the gates and the walls of Montsgur
Blood on the stones of the citadel
At the gates and the walls of Montsgur
Blood on the stones of the citadel
At the gates and the walls of Montsgur
Blood on the stones of the citadel
At the gates and the walls of Montsgur
Blood on the stones of the citadel
As we kill them all so god will know his own
The innocents died for the pope on his throne
Catholic greed and its paranoid zeal
Curse of the grail and the blood of the cross
Templar believers with blood on their hands
Joined in the choruse to kill on demand
Burned at the stake for their soul's liberty
To stand with the cathars to die and be free
The book of old testament crippled and black
Satan his weapon is lust
Living this evil damnation of flesh
Back to the torture of life
At the gates and the walls of Montsgur
Blood on the stones of the citadel
At the gates and the walls of Montsgur
Blood on the stones of the citadel
At the gates and the walls of Montsgur
Blood on the stones of the citadel
At the gates and the walls of Montsgur
Blood on the stones of the citadel
As we kill them all so god know his own
Laugh at the darkness and in god we trust
The eye of the triangle smiling with sin
No passover feast for the cursed within
Facing the sun as they went to their grave
Burn like a dog or you live like a slave
Death is the price for your soul's liberty
To stand with the cathars and to die and be free
At the gates and the walls of Montsgur
Blood on the stones of the citadel
At the gates and the walls of Montsgur
Blood on the stones of the citadel
song performed by by Iron Maiden
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sun & Soup
You hold the spoon
over the tureen
watching the soup
drip back with a plop.
You know Francis
will enter soon,
and stand watching
over you, him being
master of the kitchen,
wondering if you had
dipped your finger
and tasted the soup
with your tongue
and say, I hope you
haven’t dipped your finger
in and tasted, it isn’t
the done thing;
and he’d give you
such a look, as if you would,
as if Mother had not
taught you kitchen manners
with its dos and don’ts;
and as you look up
at the high windows,
sunlight leaks through
the coloured glass pane
throwing its golden finger
across the tureen’s hold.
poem by Terry Collett
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Dirty Day
I don't know you . . . and you don't know the half of it
I had a starring role . . . I was the bad guy who walked out
They said be careful where you aim
Because where you aim you just might hit
You can hold onto something so tight
You've already lost it
Dragging me down
That's not the way it used to be
You can't even remember
What I'm trying to forget
It was a dirty day
A dirty day
You want explanations . . .
I don't even understand
If you need someone to blame . . .
Throw a rock in the air
You're bound to hit someone guilty
From father to son
In one life has begun
A work that's never done
Father to son
(And love . . . it won't last kissin' time)
Get it right
There's no blood thicker than ink
Hear what I say
Nothing's simple as you think
Wake up
Somethings you can't get around
I'm in you
More so when they put me in the ground
It was a dirty day
A dirty day
Hank says
THE DAYS RUN AWAY LIKE HORSES OVER THE HILLS
song performed by by U2
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mist In The Valley
These hills, to hurt me more,
That am hurt already enough,—
Having left the sea behind,
Having turned suddenly and left the shore
That I had loved beyond all words, even a song's words, to
convey,
And built me a house on upland acres,
Sweet with the pinxter, bright and rough
With the rusty blackbird long before the winter's done,
But smelling never of bayberry hot in the sun,
Nor ever loud with the pounding of the long white breakers,—
These hills, beneath the October moon,
Sit in the valley white with mist
Like islands in a quiet bay,
Jut out from shore into the mist,
Wooded with poplar dark as pine,
Like points of land into a quiet bay.
(Just in the way
The harbour met the bay)
Stricken too sore for tears,
I stand, remembering the Islands and the sea's lost sound—
Life at its best no longer than the sand-peep's cry,
And I two years, two years,
Tilling an upland ground!
poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay
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Christmas Is..
Christmas is the time of year.
To give our thanks,
for the lives we live.
To thank our lord,
for shedding his blood.
The blood he shed,
for the sins of the world.
Like the shedding of tears,
in a mournful way.
Our lord was born on Christmas day..
Christmas Is-Poem By Kim Robin Edwards
Copyright 1985,2009
ALL rights reserved..
poem by Kim Robin Edwards
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Oahu
Here on this island, summer never sleeps.
In the green valleys, smoke in cane-time drifts
With mist—frail tide that laps the chasmed deeps
Between the steep clean hills as the sea-tide
Once washed the silent hidden hollow rifts
And unseen valleys of its unborn bride.
Sea-bride, child of earth’s red molten womb,
Daughter of fire and chaos long since sleeping,
Who were the people that made your green hills bloom?
Wedded to the seas they were, like you;
From the dark sea, while you your watch were keeping,
They came to make their destined rendezvous.
The broad bare feet step forth on virgin sand,
And eyes raise to the green eternal hills:
Gray mist, green hills and fertile red-clay land,
Alone no more. The carefree caroling laughter
Drifts inland, where valley mist distills
The songs that shall be sung forever after.
poem by S.J. Fulton
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Annotations To Daily Encounters
The room is small, dark, and humid
It usually speaks,
Nevertheless, it is tight-lipped today,
While I undress myself
It looks at me
& Senses the foulness
Of my nudity.
I walk naked towards its hazy windows
Overlooking the strong rains
Pounding those breathing in the
Garden,
The sunflowers are shouting for help
They may die sooner,
While I remain in stand still
Unable to do
What is needed to be done
While everything breathing
Are groping for space.
And I can’t speak to the room either,
About this arrangement of
Predators and prey
Heavy rains and helpless sunflowers
Grandfather and son
Parasites and hosts
Brothers and sisters
Late suns and balding trees.
I am tight-tipped too,
By nature this room is without tongue,
With nothing to say, and interesting to open up, an icebreaker.
It reminds me:
It is about leaves and leaving,
About everybody’s departure, from one reason to another,
Excuses & recluses,
I don’t want to understand & I am logically starved,
Deprived of some perspective about God’s ways,
What I mean is that
This room would not want to listen about what I will say,
There is no room for pacifications anymore.
We are both occupants here, the room
Occupies me,
The pre-occupation in fact is too much
We seem too much mindful of our
Private affairs, in so contemptible manner, as it is bare, as I am naked,
And we don’t speak too many words today there
Are no adjectives for departures, we are too tight-lipped
My chest too congested, and the room too bare
It is short of what to
Expose, what with nothing left, except barrenness and nudity.
Come with us, and be departed.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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