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
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Related quotes
Golden Lights
Golden lights displaying your name
Golden lights its a terrible shame
But oh my darling
Why did you change ?
Boy in a million, idol, a big star
I didnt tell you how great you were
I didnt grovel and scream
And rip your brand new jacket at the seams
You made a record, they liked your singing
All of a sudden the phone stops ringing
Ah ... I never thought that you would let
The glory make you forget
Golden lights displaying your name
Golden lights its a terrible shame
But oh my darling
Why did you change ?
Top ten idol, king of your age
Who do you turn to when youre backstage ?
Dont you remember you once knew a girl
You loved her more than the world
Is life always like this, brother ?
Good for one side but bad for another
I must put you behind me tonight
cause you belong to the lights
Those golden lights displaying your name
Golden lights its a terrible shame
But oh my darling
Why did you change ?
Oh, oh my darling
Why ?
Why did you change ?
Oh ...
song performed by by Smiths
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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He stole his eyes from a milk-glass moon - Villanelle
He stole his eyes from a milk-glass moon,
From drops of peridot scattered at sea,
Hidden beneath a moon-shadowed ruin.
His father not caring where or with whom,
Or from what rare ocean his being might be-
He stole his eyes from a milk-glass moon.
He learnt his letters from a dark winged loon
Who flew where the mountains caress the trees,
Hidden beneath a moon-shadowed ruin.
His speech was a garble of false and truth,
Whistling like a hollow piped reed,
He stole his eyes from a milk-glass moon.
His eyes a contagion of waters blue
And brackish trunks of underwater trees
Hidden beneath a moon-shadowed ruin.
His normal voice wove a threadless tune,
Brought close the mermaids, hungry to feed;
He stole his eyes from a milk-glass moon,
Hidden beneath a moon-shadowed ruin.
poem by Patti Masterman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lament
Where are those dazzling hills touched by the sun,
Those crags in childhood that I used to climb?
Hidden, hidden under mist is yonder mountain,
Hidden is the heart.
A day of cloud, a lifetime falls between,
Gone are the heather moors and the pure stream,
Gone are the rocky places and the green,
Hidden, hidden under sorrow is yonder mountain,
Hidden, hidden.
O storm and gale of tears, whose blinding screen
Makes weather of grief, snow's drifting curtain
Palls th'immortal heights once seen.
Hidden, hidden is the heart,
Hidden, hidden is the heart.
poem by Kathleen Jessie Raine
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Whats She Like
Whats she like when she turns around to kiss you goodnight? /
When she wakes up in the morning by your side? / whats she like?
Whats she like? / the yellow moon or the deep blue of the sea? /
Do you feel the same way you did when it was me? / whats she like?
Oh Ive been holding on / Ive been holding on for far too long /
Ive been holding on / Ive been holding on much too long.
Whats she like when youre making love and stars are in her eyes? /
When youre looking for the answers in her smile? / whats she like?
Oh Ive been holding on / Ive been holding on for far too long /
Ive been holding on / Ive been holding on much too long / too long.
I never knew I could love somebody the way I loved you /
I never thought Id be the broken-hearted /
Well, nothing hurts you like the truth.
So whats she like when she turns to you, when push comes to shove? /
When she whispers in your ear that shes in love? / whats she like?
Oh Ive been holding on / Ive been holding on for far too long /
Ive been holding on / Ive been holding on much too long /
So whats she like?
song performed by by Roxette
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Impoverished
You asked for an explanation
for a flame. A bat
flies in a passage of pain.
A poem becomes an accuser.
They were drowning
the moon
in a lake of blood.
A poem sails like a kayak.
The snow was falling
like drifting lovers.
Stains were becoming bits of screams.
A poem delivers an echo.
The fear turns you blue
in midst of knocks.
Doors had the outrageous locks.
A poem walks like a truth
poem by Satish Verma
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Velvet Green
Walking on velvet green. scots pine growing.
Isnt it rare to be taking the air, singing.
Walking on velvet green.
Walking on velvet green. distant cows lowing.
Never a care: with your legs in the air, loving.
Walking on velvet green.
Wont you have my company, yes, take it in your hands.
Go down on velvet green, with a country man.
Whos a young girls fancy and an old maids dream.
Tell your mother that you walked all night on velvet green.
One dusky half-hours ride up to the north.
There lies your reputation and all that youre worth.
Where the scent of wild roses turns the milk to cream.
Tell your mother that you walked all night on velvet green.
And the long grass blows in the evening cool.
And augusts rare delight may be aprils fool.
But think not of that, my love,
Im tight against the seam.
And Im growing up to meet you down on velvet green.
Now I may tell you that its love and not just lust.
And if we live the lie, lets lie in trust.
On golden daffodils, to catch the silver stream
That washes out the wild oat seed on velvet green.
Well dream as lovers under the stars ---
Of civilizations raging afar.
And the ragged dawn breaks on your battle scars.
As you walk home cold and alone upon velvet green.
Walking on velvet green. scots pine growing.
Isnt it rare to be taking the air, singing.
Walking on velvet green.
Walking on velvet green. distant cows lowing.
Never a care: with your legs in the air, loving.
Walking on velvet green.
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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God's Acre
’NEATH the spiring of spruces
Above the blue sea,
Lo, a field of white crosses,
A garden of grief!
—And a riot of roses,
Of red and white roses,
Rich Death! all in blossom,
Fair Loss! all in leaf.
Aye, their warm cherub-cheeks
To cold marble they press;
With sweet summer-kisses
Dead names they caress;
Yon tomb, see, all garlands,
All roses this cross!
—So breathe, my lamenting!
So bloom, O my loss!
poem by Blanche Edith Baughan
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Feeling A Red Brick Wall With My Soft White Hands
red bricks
walls
thick walls
seeing these walls
of red bricks
feeling the hardness
of each
with my soft hands
close my eyes
feel that
i am inside you
a wall
no i don't scream
i moan
and then i am silent
so tired and
asleep
dreaming of windows
red doors
golden locks
platinum keys
wings on my shoulder
feathers of birds
blue skies red suns
blue moons
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Hidden Shame
Im sorry to say that you dont know me
Im sad in ways you never understood
Each time I try to tell the ugly truth
You always let it pass you by
You said I d never tell you a lie
Just because I could
Did you really think I was a bad man?
You always said that that should be my middle name
But you dont know the half of it
You dont know how that name fits
You dont know my hidden shame
Hidden shame, shame, shame
That I cant get free
From the blame and the torture
And the misery
Must it be my secret for eternity?
Till you know my hidden shame you really dont know me
Well, theres a different kind of prison
And it dont even have to look much like a cell
Its already on your mind
Boy, we can see it in your eyes
So, heres the bars and walls as well
Well, you know Im never coming home, babe
You said youd stand by me until I cleared my name
Sure its easy to be strong
When you know the charge is wrong
But the days and weeks get long
When youve got a hidden shame
Chorus
I had a friend when I was just a boy
We were like brothers, we would run and hide
And we went walking on a high hillside
And I really dont how it happened
He turned to me and had this strange look in his eye
And not a single word was spoken
I must have pushed him, but I dont remember why
And all at once, he lay there broken
And I walked down without him and I didnt even sigh
Chorus
They say you always hurt the one you love
And Im not saying if I did or if I didnt
But like my shame, that kind of love is always hidden
They locked me up here for the ideas in my head
They never got me for the thing I really did
Chorus
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Red, Blue, Green and Gold
Silence somehow has entered this room where
This morning laughter had filled, I hardly know what to say but
I can hear my own tears screaming aloud- even though
I cannot see them falling- Red, blue, green and gold- Just about any color I can
See decorating the four walls that enclose me- All I can do is look and
All I can do is to try and remember yesterday as being close to God-
Now the doors have been locked- the doors to those dreams that kept my spirit alive-
That window into a once vivid imagination- and now a curtain has fallen and
I have lost the key to that door that has become a wall that separates-
I have been in love with silence- Devoured solitude as if
It was the food that kept me alive-
I danced amongst carnations and yellow peace roses
Every moment I looked into the world of my hallucinations?
Yesterday was another day as will be tomorrow-
I am trying to live one day at a time- I once rode a bus towards eternity-
That has come to a roadblock I cannot bypass-
Red, blue, green and gold- only colors but all I have left-
Decorating the walls inside which I find myself imprisoned-
Listening to the music of my spirit, then collapsing as I
Once again fall into that cesspool of insanity that had once before contained me?
Fighting the memories of lying upon a urine stained carpet inside
A room so rudely called “seclusion? ”
Or walking about some nowhere land as I have wept tears and
Have abandoned faith, hope and a will to stay alive?
Locked doors and broken windows, clouds obstructing the sun-
I cannot find the right words to say- my heart has been buried and
I find myself lying still- drifting away into another world-
Trying to escape from such a place that has been deemed by others as reality?
No hope, but a prayer, moments lost have turned to years of
Never ending frustration and truth to me as I lose myself into
That world everyone identifies as delusive?
Voices that tell me they want me to die and now rain turns to ice as I
Slip and fall into never abating madness?
Red, blue, green and gold- vibrant colors that kept my soul alive?
Red, blue, green, and gold- have become none but futile and
Colors of that rainbow that is part of somebody else’s world-
Yesterday is another day as is tomorrow- and today-
Today I ride a bus that is speeding down a highway to nowhere-
Has just crashed and here I lie- staring at the ceiling
Breathing oxygen from a rubber mask counting from one to ten and -
Red, blue, green and gold – have become none but elements of my dreams-
As I lose myself in some other place and time has become none but an illusion?
poem by Claudia Krizay
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The Rim Of Green
Green panties, green roses
green tits, green milk.
Green moon, posies in green.
green eyes, green full lips
green face, cheese, green..
Green around the rim,
green limes can but erupt...?
poem by Is It Poetry
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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
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Happy Valley Of Stings
I don’t fake the pain
pain was me.
A grafted rose opens up along the road rage.
This was the city of my birth
my oblivion, my reincarnation
ejaculated from the dark.
Here I found the golden dust
nuggets of truth
and the nostalgia of a broken moon.
The marble white love
and green bowl of arms
a happy valley of stings.
The sun backtracks on hills
when I walk on sands
leaving the deep scars.
A small horizon was my window
hunger of nightingales on branches.
The tree was walking in, my house.
poem by Satish Verma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rotarians
The Symbol
The speaking at the Rotary is Praise devoid of Proof
The talking at the Rotary turns mostly on the oof
But both require an Emblem; and a Wheel is just the thing
When you argue in a circle and do business in a Ring.
At a Rotarian Lunch
Broken on another wheel than Rotary
St. Catherine's body set her spirit free
Here rests the body that the soul may squirm
In all joints broken to a jointless worm.
A Declaration of Dependence
The Jeffersonian justice which
Degenerate hucksters quote
Republicans have had by right
Rotarians by rote
poem by Gilbert Keith Chesterton
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A Soul Dies
Sky overcast, moon was sad.
Ashes were sent to the lake.
Who killed the bird in morning rain?
Ashes were sent to the lake.
A hidden slaughterman did not die.
Ashes were sent to the lake.
The good old name now spells the doom.
Ashes were sent to the lake.
I will call you in pitch-dark night.
Ashes were sent to the lake.
Ascending gods have ruined my life.
Ashes were sent to the lake.
A child was stolen from a mother’s bed.
Ashes were sent to the lake.
poem by Satish Verma
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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
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Dark Language
Wanted to wear the grief uncrying,
sitting on the bank, counting the waves,
watching the swaying of earthen lamps.
There was a little water on the moon,
charged atoms settling in the lap of a sponge.
The water becomes the moon,
floating on goat’s milk.
My descent starts to find the truth.
Where the water has gone from the eyes?
The mirrors always tell the lie.
The headless body writhes in the dust,
words change the author of a murder.
A crowd finds a knife only.
Once again a century weeps!
Satish Verma
poem by Satish Verma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Irish Legacy
Sweet Erin I will walk your shores
In mind and body too.
Connemara's rugged grandeur
Killarney's lakes so blue.
Harsh beauty and the silence
Of Wicklow's haunting scene.
The lushness of Meath's meadows
And their forty shades of green.
The mystic seas and rivers,
And Dublin's Liffy blue.
Dear Erin I'm your daughter,
There's nowhere for me but you.
So in shadow and in laughter
My thoughts turn evergreen,
For I am far, but yet not so.
Your child, your wee spalpeen.
You draw me to the Emerald Isle.
My soul yearns just to ride,
Along the bay of Galway
With freedom by my side.
I'll never leave your golden shores
You history's mine and you'rn
I'll love you now and evermore,
For I am Irish born.
poem by Rosi Caswell
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In Hospital
Under the shadow of a hawthorn brake,
Where bluebells draw the sky down to the wood,
Where, 'mid brown leaves, the primroses awake
And hidden violets smell of solitude;
Beneath green leaves bright-fluttered by the wing
Of fleeting, beautiful, immortal Spring,
I should have said, 'I love you,' and your eyes
Have said, 'I, too . . . ' The gods saw otherwise.
For this is winter, and the London streets
Are full of soldiers from that far, fierce fray
Where life knows death, and where poor glory meets
Full-face with shame, and weeps and turns away.
And in the broken, trampled foreign wood
Is horror, and the terrible scent of blood,
And love shines tremulous, like a drowning star,
Under the shadow of the wings of war.
poem by Edith Nesbit
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From the House of Yemanjá
My mother had two faces and a frying pot
where she cooked up her daughters
into girls
before she fixed our dinner.
My mother had two faces
and a broken pot
where she hid out a perfect daughter
who was not me
I am the sun and moon and forever hungry
for her eyes.
I bear two women upon my back
one dark and rich and hidden
in the ivory hungers of the other
mother
pale as a witch
yet steady and familiar
brings me bread and terror
in my sleep
her breasts are huge exciting anchors
in the midnight storm.
All this has been
before
in my mother's bed
time has no sense
I have no brothers
and my sisters are cruel.
Mother I need
mother I need
mother I need your blackness now
as the august earth needs rain.
I am
the sun and moon and forever hungry
the sharpened edge
where day and night shall meet
and not be
one.
poem by Audre Lorde
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