Velvety Return
Like a dung beetle you were guarding
the tunnel, I will not let the ball roll away,
a grain of ache in my tooth.Why you had
to go, on cathartic release of mutual trust?
A stone in the heart, ice on the wings,
there will be a terrible crash today.
He died by his own hands, failing to reach
the ceiling of solid pain, trekking across
the memories in deep waters. The born depression
had the bride of moon without flesh, beyond the gaze.
A hand holds the sunlight reaching your eyes.
You may swim with fish in mid stream of death.
poem by Satish Verma
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Related quotes
Velvety Return
Like a dung beetle you were guarding
the tunnel, I will not let the ball roll away,
a grain of ache in my tooth.Why you had
to go, on cathartic release of mutual trust?
A stone in the heart, ice on the wings,
there will be a terrible crash today.
He died by his own hands, failing to reach
the ceiling of solid pain, trekking across
the memories in deep waters. The born depression
had the bride of moon without flesh, beyond the gaze.
A hand holds the sunlight reaching your eyes.
You may swim with fish in mid stream of death.
* On the death of Nicholas Hughes, son of Sylvia Plath in Alaska on 16th March 09.
poem by Satish Verma
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Fish with no tail
as i gaze out of nature... i have seen a fish without a tail
impossible but its true, first things came up to my mind
is, ask whether its worth to give time to remember all
the scene or perhaps, just a memories of a simple
goodbye
as the fish swim, deep beneath the crystal blue water, i
couldn't remember the minutes, the hours past, nay i felt
that i haven't taken my meal, it seems all are just a blink
of a second in my eyes
it keeps on bubbling, even in a thousands seconds it
stay in the water, until i notice that the fish fail to surface
beneath the running water, for the absence of the tail
the body is nothing
all is just a mirror of a fish that, every movement of the
body, the twist of the tail has to follow, its a paradox to
believe that we see the tail of other fish, nay never we
saw that we don't have tail of our own
like the fish it swim, with no direction, only an inspiration
that we can do, yet as it goes there we go, tail that swim
in the water stream with no affection of what to do
now i see, how to swim, in water, lou! where i may go...in
the world of stream when everybody is frame......
poem by Antonio Liao
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A Hand
First Love's Touch,
mutual gathering was only through them,
our Hands.
We poets celebrate
Hearts and Souls;
Love too wields magic,
but neglect too often
those stalwart two-
the human hands-
we're birth'd with.
Entwined most
in our Corporeal Destinies
yet hands occupy
in the Pantheon of Graces
a position lower than should be.
Consider birth's first
is a touching hand.
First our eyes open
then
we are lifted by them.
Is not reaching for love
first with these twins?
Was not my First Love
first touched by them?
Did we not, we two, hold hands
along the heart-way walkways?
Did not these two first wave
sweet hellos and partings?
What poet's mind could word
without them?
Alas, too, it was these two
which fluttered dismissively
signaling
First Love was leaving.
At death's bed
the last we reach
for nurse, loved ones
or darlings,
with be with these two hands,
when from this world departing.
Is not electricity
generated by them
in the touching of our bodies?
Are not hands reaching on the Grecian Urn
expressing love's startings,
it's yawlings and yearnings?
I will die
as we all will-
its hands that will pray for me.
Coffin bound
I will lay,
my two hands crossing.
I am touched by loving hands
from birth
to Death's Regarding.
All my life these two ambassadors
convey
sweet touches
to me and from me
to others.
The tear of child
is reached by these
and Child Worlds mended.
Lover, I
have only these
to express what
what my Heart says
Love Is.
In the end
cry for them too:
Fluttering Twins,
unsung,
ungraced,
each hand-
perforce
will reach out
one to each-
one floating flower to another.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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It's Not By The Water Alone The Stone Get Wet
it's not by the water alone the stone get wet
many time the soil moisture rise the plant to grow,
and the dew fall in the midst forest has capture the
sun to shadow the plant maturity until the bearing
trees touch every twisting tooth to go down
roll on the water stream the fungi has distance the
cope off the fish, rushing into the turmoil of
crushing speed amongst the stone of sojourner into
the sea of no returning back, the awakening
movement of home bound recipe of life
all gets wet, nay wet moisturize all the rolling stone
towards to the sea floor of forever gray; neither the
water filled the dried color of the stone, and scented
to attract fish to return home for what is real lives
forever in the heart of the stone
let every piece of pebble gems taste a little droplets
of water as it linger on in the memory of the each
stream.....
poem by Antonio Liao
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Reunited
The pale beams of a sickle moon
Shed just enough light to show.
The winding path to lagoon.
A place we often chose to go
I very seldom walk this way.
It holds too many memories
Which underline I am alone.
A heart ache which will never cease.
Although you died long years ago
I think about you constantly.
The happiness we used to know.
Brought to an end prematurely.
I know that death is drawing nigh
If not today then very soon.
If death is kind I too will die
beside the shores of our lagoon.
Where you left me so suddenly.
I have no doubt that you will be
still waiting for me patiently.
So we can share eternity.
The found his body by first light
Precisely where his wife had died.
Although I’m weeping as I write
I pen this tale of love with pride.
(For M'lady Ernestine/Monday,08 August 2011)
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Crash
Lying in bed
Crying your eyes out
Curled in a ball
Nice and tight
Crash today
Seven men died
Seven in a van
One in a car
Bottle of vodka
In the passenger
Seat
Driving unable to maintain
Drifting and veering
Unable to control
Car smash the van
Through the windshield
One goes
Lying on the floor
Others come and
Count dead bodies
One left live in the van
Mind regained and
Awareness received
All is dead
All is dead but you
Later that night
Lying in bed
Crying your eyes out
Curled in a ball
Magnum in hand
Silence has come
Lying in bed
No more crying
Curled in a ball
Lose and feeble
No sound is silent
Eight men died
Today
poem by Tommy D'Attore
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All God's Lonely Children
A little baby's born
Daddy's up and gone
You see his mama cry
Don't you turn away
She's needing you today
To help her dry her eyes.
All God's lovely children
Sometimes lose their ways
All God's lovely children
Need your love today.
Met a little man
Reaching out his hand
He's reaching out for you
Won't you take his hand
Help him understand
And try to see him through.
All God's lovely children
Sometimes lose their ways
All God's lovely children
Need your love today.
People
People
People
People
Love my people
It's right in the steeple
It's in your heart and in your hands
Open up your heart
Reach out your hands
And then you'll begin to understand.
Why all God's lovely children
Sometimes lose their ways
All God's lovely children
Need your love today.
People.
People.
People.
People.
People.
People...
song performed by by Kenny Rogers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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As You Humiliate Yourself
you volunteer to shrink a little bit
like a rotten pumpkin to
let her know that you also know how to die
and find a way to reach her
in her own death.
you let go all that is fluid something that is liquid
you make these
turn to gas so you also have a way of telling her
that you also know how to disappear
she may close her eyes in anger because of you
she may like to abuse you and not talk to you as you gaze to find out
the reason why the stars are not out tonight
why there is not a single shining moon
you are so patient waiting like a fisherman with his bait
to catch a fish tonight
out there in the deep sea in desolation
you give her time to change and to understand your longing
for stars
your thirst for the light of the moon
it will be painful, you have humiliated yourself in all these
shrinking of your arms and hands
you become like a tiny dot in humility to the line of
bold letters and exclamation marks
you give up, you get out of the bed and stopped staring at the ceiling
you open the door of this cold room and you close it again
to leave her
still closing her eyes keeping her tears from falling.
it is over you say. it is over. it is too late. another door has been locked
and this time you do not wish anyone in.
a wise man sometimes likes to use
a period.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Introspection
If you go deep
Into the heart
What do you find there?
Fear, fear,
Fear of the jaws of the rock,
Fear of the teeth and splinters of iron that tear
Flesh from the bone, and the moist
Blood, running unfelt
From the wound, and the hand
Suddenly moist and red.
If you go deep
Into the heart
What do you find?
Grief, grief,
Grief for the life unlived,
For the loves unloved,
For the child never to be born,
Th'unbidden anguish, when the fair moon
Rises over still summer seas, and the pain
Of sunlight scattered in vain on spring grass.
If you go deeper
Into the heart
What do you find there?
Death, death,
Death tht lets all go by,
Lets the blood flow from the wound,
Lets the night pass,
Endures the day with indifference, knowing that all must end.
Sorrow is not forever, ad sense
Endures no extremities,
Death is the last Secret implicit within you, the hidden, the deepest
Knowledge of all you will ever unfold
In this body of earth.
poem by Kathleen Jessie Raine
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The Crucifix
"Into thy hands I commend my spirit."
[This very ancient crucifix is sculptured on the exterior wall of the Abbey Church of Romsey. Its characteristic is a hand reaching down from the clouds, over the cross. It is said to be unique.]
In a quiet nook it standeth,
Which careless eyes might miss,
That image of Thy sorrow,
And fountain of our bliss.
Low within reach it standeth,
Close to the old church, door,
And by the common pathway,
Appealing evermore.
Low on the wall, that never
The dimmest eyes may miss,
And the lips of the little children
May reach the feet to kiss.
That humble, simple image,
Wrought by the hands of old;
Good hands! that so many ages
Helpless have grown and cold.
That blessed, sacred image
Born of the heart of old
That through the endless ages
Shall nevermore grow cold.
In the common stone rude-carven,
By no great artist's touch;
Yet never the wide world over
Will you find another such.
You may search the wide world over
From freezing to burning zone,
You will never find another
Quite like this only one.
Deep, deep the nails are driven
In the hands they crucified -
So deep, the nails you see not,
But only the arms stretched wide.
And over the head, so weary,
Bowing itself to die,
An open hand down-reaching
Forth from the clouded sky.
The torturers' hands have finished;
His hands are nailèd fast;
"Into thy hands my spirit -
Father, thy hands!" - at last.
. . . . . . .
Lord, ere thou call our spirits
Within thy hands to be,
Give us some such dear likeness
To leave behind of thee.
Hid in some quiet corner,
Cut in the common stone,
Poor, yet our best, we pray thee,
Our best, and our very own.
. . . . . . .
Dear Lord, our hearts grow bolder;
We dare to ask much more,
Knowing the more we ask thee,
Thou art hut pleased the more.
Give us to be that image
By the common paths like this:
Low, where the dimmest vision,
The features need not miss;
Low, where the lips of the children
May reach to cling and kiss.
Where the nails to the cross which fix us,
So deep in the wounds may hide,
That men see no more the torture,
But only the arms stretched wide.
A humble, simple image,
Cut in the common stone;
Like thee, yet like no other,
Because thy very own.
poem by Elizabeth Rundle Charles from Littell's Living Age, Volume 131, Issue 1693
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Hurting Inside
Depression hurts
inside and out.
On the inside your heart tears
And it starts to bleed,
You feel the pain
And you have the need.
Outside you drag the knife
Accross bare flesh,
You feel the relief
But the scars are sketched.
Back inside you cry
Because the marks will remain,
But you're also calm now
and feel no pain.
Depression hurts
No matter what
Depression follows
Even after the cuts.
Depression may go,
but the memories will stay forever.
poem by Kelsey Joe
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Eye 4 An Eye (Silencer Mix)
Even now in heaven
There were angels carrying savage weapons
An eye for an eye...(for an eye...)
A tooth for a tooth...(for a tooth...)
Run, run, run,
But you sure can't hide...(hide...hide)
An eye for an eye...(for an eye...)
A tooth for a tooth...(for a tooth...)
Run, run, run,
But you sure can't hide...(hide...hide)
Is that room been fit to earth?
Doesn't help the ??? to grow sunshine?
Is this darkness all you'll take?
Have you'd passed through this life?
Run, run, run, but you sure can't hide...(hide, hide...)
Where you're going you're not coming back from
Run, run, run, but you sure can't hide...(hide, hide...)
An eye for an eye...(for an eye...)
A tooth for a tooth...(for a tooth...)
Run, run, run,
But you sure can't hide...(hide...hide)
An eye for an eye...(for an eye...)
A tooth for a tooth...(for a tooth...)
Run, run, run,
But you sure can't hide...(hide...hide)
This grain evil
Where is it come from?
Had still the end of the world?
Who's doing this?
Who's killed us?
Marking us with the sign of the holy mighty man
Run, run, run...(run, run...)
Run, run, run...(run, run...)
An eye for an eye...(for an eye...)
A tooth for a tooth...(for a tooth...)
Run, run, run, but you sure can't hide...(hide...hide)
An eye for an eye...(for an eye...)
A tooth for a tooth...(for a tooth...)
Run, run, run,
But you sure can't hide...(hide...hide)
(An eye for an eye...)
Are you righteous?
(A tooth for a tooth...)
Kind?
(Run, run, run but you sure can't hide...)
Does your confidence lie in this?
(An eye for an
song performed by by Unkle
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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This Is who I Am
Theres heart-ache where these tears come from. Attached to them a life time of hurts caused by too many hopes gone awry.
Theres heart-ache buried so deep in this heart that its hard to seperate where the heart-ache ends and anger begins.
Anger strong enough to break through any kind of heart-ache.
Anger that paralyzes the heart to stone. Making it unbreakable to any heart-ache. Making it unbreakable for those that cause that heart-ache.
coupled with that anger is regrets and self-pity.
Drowning in them but at sinful piece.
This is what i'm used to.
This is who i am.
This is what i know, understand.
This all consuming emotion that builds day-2-day behind blu eyes that smile at every joke that goes bad.
poem by Laterressa Fowler
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The Diary Of Me
Umm pum-pum-pum
Pum-pum, pum-pum, pum-pum
Look behind myself
As I reflect on all the memories
The times they come and go
Lost everything from friends to Family
If I could turn back the hands
There would be some things I'd change about me
I know that my past is not what my future holds
Where I come from
Who could believe
All the pain and misery
Look in my eyes and you'll see
The diary of me
Rewind my life
Just go back and correct all the wrong
And ask God to direct my path
So that I can make it home
And if I could turn back the hands of time
There would be some things I would change about me
But I know that my past is not what my future holds
'Cause
Where I'm from
Who could believe
All the pain, misery
Look in my eyes and you will see
The diary of me
Years ago a child was born (a child was born) (ooh)
And raised without a man (without my... father, and wonder why he's in these streets) (ooh)
My mother's gone (mothers gone, yet still... found the strength to pray for me) (ooh)
But still reached out her hand
Just open the book (na-na-na-na-na-na)
Turn the pages of my life (na-na-na)
And you will read
A true story about one man's journey
Where I'm from (ahh...)
Who would believe, yeah
That all the hurt and pain and misery (ahh...)
Look in my eyes (ahh...)
You'll see the diary of me (pum-pum-pum-pum-pum)
Where I'm from (where I'm from, who could believe) (ahh...)
Who could believe (the hurt and pain and misery)
(Look in my eyes) in my eyes (and you will see) (ahh...)
(The makings of) the makings of
(My diary) my diary
(Where I'm from) look in my eyes (ahh...)
(Who could believe) you'll see
(The hurt and pain and misery)
(Look in my eyes) (ahh...)
(And you will see) yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah
(The makings of my diary)
(Where I'm from...) (ahh...)
song performed by by R. Kelly
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Diary Of Me
Ummm pum pum pum pum pum
Looked behind myself
As I reflect on all the memories
The times they come and go
Lost everything from
Friends to Family
If I could turn back the hands
There would be
Somethings I'd change about me
I know that my past is not what my future holds
Where I come from
Who could believe
All the pain and misery
Look in my eyes and you'll see
The diary of me
Rewind my life
Just go back and correct
All the wrong
And ask God to direct my path
So that I can make it home
And if I could turn back the hands of time
There would be somethings I would change about me
But I know that my past is not what my future holds
Cause
Where I come from
Who could believe
All the pain, misery
Look in my eyes and you will see
The diary of me
Years ago a child was born (A child was born)
And raised without a man (without a man, raised in the streets)
My mother's gone
But still reached out her hand
Just open the book
Turn the pages of my life
And you will read
A true story about one man's journey
Where I'm from
Who would believe, yeah
That all the hurt and pain and misery
Look in my eyes
You'll see the diary of me
Where I'm from (where I'm from who could believe)
Who could believe (the hurt and pain and misery)
(Look in my eyes) in my eyes (and you will see)
(The makings of) the makings of
(My diary) My diary
(Where I'm from) look in my eyes
(Who could believe) you'll see
(The hurt and pain and misery)
(Look in my eyes)
(And you will see) yeah yeah yeah yeah
(The makings of my diary)
(Where I'm from...)
song performed by by R. Kelly
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You Lost My Trust
I can't believe that I trusted you
After many years together
All the times you lie to me
But I believed you so much
I sometimes know it was a lie
But I did not care
Until that last one hurt me the most
I trusted you and you betray me
You lost my trust
I'm disappointed in you, but more in me
For trusting you after I had promise
Myself to never trust again
But I open my heart to you
I trusted you but you did not care
Now you lost my trust
Once someone picked me but
They let me go and I fall
They left me so alone once again
I reach out my hand
They left me up again, so I hold on
After time they let go of me, you came up to me
You reach out your hand to pick me up
I thought you were different from the rest
Then after time you let go and push me down
I fall so hard I can't believe but
You lost my trust
But now I won't let no one get
To close to my heart, that last time
Was the hardest one of them all I can't?
Get up no longer I will no longer
Trust no one ever again
You lost my trust but
I still care about you
Please don't make other fell the same pain
Now all I do is cry for you and
These empty holes in my heart,
I am running out of life
My spirit and my wings have broken down
You stole my trust for your own good
These scars will no longer heal
This pain I don't want to remember
But you made this happen
Now you lost my trust
And all you really toke was my life
Now I can't open up my heart
Because of you I my sprit
Because of you
poem by Emily Corvinus
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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She can not cry
You see the pain that lingers in her eyes,
But, her eyes remain dry
She won't cry.
She cant cry she dosent no how.
You see the anger that burns from her gaze,
The madness that sets her eyes ablaze,
She dosent no how to cry.
If only her eyes would flood.
You see the fear that closes her eyes,
The smile she wears is a disguise,
She won't cry.
She has to hide this pain.
She just cannot cry.
You see the hope that is finally dead,
She cannot trust for her heart has been bled,
She won't cry.
No, she won't cry.
You see death's hand that has glazed her eyes,
No one saw her die inside,
They won't cry.
No, they won't cry.
Amy Kerswell
poem by Amy Louise Kerswell
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Its Like Reaching For The Moon
Sherman / lewis / marqusee
Its like reaching for the moon
Its like reaching for the sun
Its like reaching for the stars
Reaching for you
Youre so far above me
How can I expect than an angel to
Its so refined as you are
Its like flying without wings
Playing fiddle without strings
And a million other things
No one can do
No, my hopes are slender
In my secret heart I pray youll surrender soon
No, its like reaching for the moon
song performed by by Billie Holiday
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Spare me the last sip!
May your cup brim, not with old memories, but ties renewed
Across the impending miles, heart pledged, soul yielded, sparkle
With dew over the spray's edge, when blossoms their satin's spread
With visions to realize in the present. Its glass, hold secrets of the stars
Beaming ascent, -out a maze, a heaven in their gaze. Its foam's kiss
Tinkling, sound, the flap of fairies' wings, at the dropp of eyelids, after a wish.
Its milky vapors thaw every pain, like the moon an amulet that holds the heart
In restrain. Their lusters return, warmth to your eyes, promising as two butterflies
Waltzing in a steadfast beam, to reveal a smile like the glee of the first stars
To grace the dusky skies, causing an old pang to resurface on the sidewalk
Of spring. Then raise it to love that rewards the wait, well-earned joy,
For which eager hands ache, your presence stir, the everlasting keepsake.
And drink to our share of ardent love and life. Done, spare me the last sip,
To still contain, faith to regain, left behind after a drink and a sigh.
Seema.J
26 September2012
poem by Seema joglekar
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For Janet
Death
Terrible wretched death
See how she suffered
Pain all over her body
Wretched wretched death
Pain
Unspeakable pain
Life sucked right out of her
She died unmercifully
Satan is a terrible deceiver
She doesn't hurt anymore
She doesn't ache all over
She is smiles
All full of smiles now
Can't you see her smiling
She finally defeated the enemy
She's so pretty
Long wavy brown hair
Pulled to the side
She's running with a smile on her face
Running to her Jesus
To our Jesus
Pretty pretty lady
We'll see you soon
Date of death August 22,1993
poem by TerriJo James
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