Will You Marry Me?
Sky weeps, I was collecting clouds
from stillness of the sea.
A snake again wants to kiss,
I am learning to die
in arms of spiral mirrors.
Cannot forgot the cheating of umbrellas.
The stings, the twists, the hollow breads.
Foams are submitting the venoms
on golden plates.
I grieve for the dignity of a hangman.
The retreat leaves the blood
on the stones. My house was burning.
Will you marry me? I ask the dew
sitting on the grass. Don’t go
back to the sun.
A relentless bucket fills up, again
I am watching at the moon.
The icy sand, the fire, the heat.
Flowers will hunt the thorns
at rooftops of sleep.
poem by Satish Verma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
The Cause of Enmity between Snake and Man
Snake, the first owner of fire.
Dog, the robber of fire.
Man the last owner of fire.
The snake gave birth first to fire.
Thus fire, the first born of snake.
Thus snake, only owner of fire long ago.
One cold evening
The man dying of coldness
The dog seen it master dying of coldness
It went to snake house and begged
The snake, the mother of fire to let
It tail get warm of fire
The snake cordially welcomed the dog
The dog twisted it tail on fire
The tail caught the fire
The dog jumped over the snake in door
Ran quickly to it master, the man
The man took the grass and wood
And lit up the fire
The fire lit up in man’s house
And it extinguished in snake’s house
The snake come to get fire back
But the man attack the snake
The hostility between man and snake
Began then
poem by David Aoloch Bion
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Had Been
The most wanted moon
was writhing
in black sky, after a star
fell for a pebble.
The nymph had become
a golden nugget in east.
Sun was rising.
Guilt of burning the sea
was writ large on the face
of purple clouds.
I am collecting the garments of dew.
Sitting in a night
of waves, watching the theater
going in flames.That day
a cuckoo did not sing.
poem by Satish Verma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cat's Dream
How neatly a cat sleeps,
sleeps with its paws and its posture,
sleeps with its wicked claws,
and with its unfeeling blood,
sleeps with all the rings--
a series of burnt circles--
which have formed the odd geology
of its sand-colored tail.
I should like to sleep like a cat,
with all the fur of time,
with a tongue rough as flint,
with the dry sex of fire;
and after speaking to no one,
stretch myself over the world,
over roofs and landscapes,
with a passionate desire
to hunt the rats in my dreams.
I have seen how the cat asleep
would undulate, how the night
flowed through it like dark water;
and at times, it was going to fall
or possibly plunge into
the bare deserted snowdrifts.
Sometimes it grew so much in sleep
like a tiger's great-grandfather,
and would leap in the darkness over
rooftops, clouds and volcanoes.
Sleep, sleep cat of the night,
with episcopal ceremony
and your stone-carved moustache.
Take care of all our dreams;
control the obscurity
of our slumbering prowess
with your relentless heart
and the great ruff of your tail.
Translated by Alastair Reid
Submitted by Jen
poem by Pablo Neruda
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bucket T
Bucket bucket t t, bucket t bucket t,
Bucket bucket t t, bucket t bucket t,
Bucket bucket t t, bucket t bucket t,
Found her in a barn in tennessee
I paid five bucks for my bucket t
Took me three years of sweat and blood
To clean off all that tennessee mud
Chorus:
My bucket t (bucket t)
Bucket t (bucket t)
My bucket t (bucket t)
My bucket t (bucket t)
T t t... bucket bucket bucket...
Cruise down the street in front of school
I wanna rev it up but I gotta be cool
Drivin down the road Ill get my kicks
Apoppin the clutch and aslippin the sticks
[chorus]
I was right, too, shes first in her class
Theres nothing on the freeway she dont pass
All the girls want to take a ride with me
But theres only one seat in my bucket t
[chorus]
song performed by by Who
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Blood Bound
Countdown, descending down to zero
Bursting into flames
Can't you see the coming of a hero
On this enchanting day
So stand up and be counted
In the solar glance in the desert sand
No longer the hunted
United we are 'til the day we fall
A chain unbreakable
Every link is allied to our mighty vow
We're Blood Bound - We aim for the sun
The luminous moon will take us high over ground
We're Blood Bound - Collecting the stars
We hold a power that is greater than all
We're Blood Bound
Watch out, the heathen's all around us
Always watch you back
We've got a lust for freedom
Whatever they say we know we'll stay
We are indestructible
And no matter what happens we will rise above
We're Blood Bound - We aim for the sun
The luminous moon will take us high over ground
We're Blood Bound - Collecting the stars
We hold a power that is greater than all
We're Blood Bound
Look into my eyes
Tell me what is hidden deep inside
Chains about to break
It's the everlasting freedom for us all
We're Blood Bound - We aim for the sun
The luminous moon will take us high over ground
We're Blood Bound - Collecting the stars
We hold a power together
We're Blood Bound - We aim for the sun
The luminous moon will take us high over ground
We're Blood Bound - Collecting the stars
We hold a power together - Blood Bound
Power forever - Blood Bound
Power - We're Blood Bound
song performed by by Hammerfall
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fighting For Night
Sitting and watching the sun rise
knowing time is near
time to laugh
time to smile
time to cheer
Sitting and watching the sun rise
Lyeing and watching the sun sway
over the puffy white clouds
over the bright blue sky
over a home town
Lyeing watching the sun sway
Standing and watching the sun fall
down to the ground
down to the greenest of grass
down to meet your tears
Standing and watching the sun fall
Leaning and watching the moon climb
up past the stars
up past the sun's lost glem
up to where it shins too full
Leaning and watching the moon climb
Swaying
not watching
not breathing
not hearing
not frowning
Swaying
Laughing from below
watching your body away
watching the rope in the moon light
watching gathering people
watching them cut you down
Laughing from below
Sitting and watching the sun rise
Lyeing and watching the sun sway
Standing and watching the sun fall
Leaning and watching the moon climb
Swaying
Laughing from below
Laughing
from
below
poem by Kathlyn Grace
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Kiss Of Life
See me a big woman, big woman look how you dance
See me a big woman, big woman caught in a trance
Dancing on the tabletop, covered up with the easter feast
Youre dancing for the fishermen, from the very large right
To the least
Dancing for the slow release, first the boy and then the beast
Then the beast
Burning, buring with the kiss of life
Burning, buring with the kiss of life
See me, a big woman, big woman so full of life
See me, a big woman, big woman going to be my wife
Watching for the different eyes - they change your face -
They come inside
Watch the spirits laugh and cry, watch them find a place
To hide
Watch the spirits talk in tongues, watch them take you for
A ride
Down at the ocean lies a body in the sand
Big woman sits beside, head in hand
With heat from her skin, and fire from her breath
She blows hard, she slows deep in the mouth of death
Burning, burning with the kiss of life
Burning, burning with the kiss of life
Burning, burning with the kiss of life
song performed by by Peter Gabriel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bright Colors
bright colors hang
on a horizontal pole
a white bench a red
pail and purple clouds
yellow sand black
sea grass and lavender
shadows umbrellas
on alternate orange and
white and saffron and
yellow green and crimson
blue sea with white foams
escape from a shrinking world
to the sea breeze and solitude
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sometimes It Is Nice To Be Away
away from the usual colors
today he wears black from head to toe
it is hot and the heat stings and the black color you know
absorbs everything he feels
like he is blazing with fire
from his blackness
a black heart
a gray choice of the part of day
gloomy parks at night
with only one neon
sometimes you are on fire
and Holy Goodness
you do not want to put it off
you are like the burning bush
and your soul takes off
sheds off
its slippers at the entrance door
well, sometimes, sometimes
we like not to understand
we miss the mystery of our own ignorance
and we take pleasure
with what we hide
something like a burning heart
beside a volcanic magma
a different joy and yet so alone
making stones and instant cliffs
no one bothers
that is the ecstasy of it all
when no one bothers
when you become a child again watching through the glass window
on your favorite toy
the red one
with stripes of black
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Farewell
They will not allow the assisted suicide.
The beetles; fiery and drunk.
After the betrayal of arithmetic,
the spiral staircase.
Fireflies set foot on the skies
to measure the darkness.
The fire between us, of burning fat,
of thousand years, terrifies me.
Moon bleeds on grass, I prick the
voice of the hugging earth.
The salt of the lips now hurts
it was your parting kiss, O sun!
poem by Satish Verma
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Child Moon
The child's wonder
At the old moon
Comes back nightly.
She points her finger
To the far silent yellow thing
Shining through the branches
Filtering on the leaves a golden sand,
Crying with her little tongue, “See the moon!”
And in her bed fading to sleep
With babblings of the moon on her little mouth.
poem by Carl Sandburg
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Fire/Burning
Burning through the forset,
Flames of orange, red and yellow,
Lick at the trees and plants,
Scorching everything in its path,
Fire.
Burning my skin,
Leaving smoke and heat,
In it's wake,
Torching my hair,
Fire
A thing of beauty,
And warmth,
But feasr it also,
For its scorching heat,
Fire.
Burning my heart,
Blood fueling the flames,
Love as its oxygen,
The Burning desire,
Fire.
poem by McKenzie Mickey
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Autumn Sadness
Air and sky are swathed in gold
Fold on fold,
Light glows through the trees like wine.
Earth, sun-quickened, swoons for bliss
'Neath his kiss,
Breathless in a trance divine.
Nature pauses from her task,
Just to bask
In these lull'd transfigured hours.
The green leaf nor stays nor goes,
But it grows
Royaler than mid-June's flowers.
Such impassioned silence fills
All the hills
Burning with unflickering fire-
Such a blood-red splendor stains
The leaves' veins,
Life seems one fulfilled desire.
While earth, sea, and heavens shine,
Heart of mine,
Say, what art thou waiting for?
Shall the cup ne'er reach the lip,
But still slip
Till the life-long thirst give o'er?
Shall my soul, no frosts may tame,
Catch new flame
From the incandescent air?
In this nuptial joy apart,
Oh my heart,
Whither shall we lonely fare?
Seek some dusky, twilight spot,
Quite forgot
Of the Autumn's Bacchic fire.
Where soft mists and shadows sleep,
There outweep
Barren longing's vain desire.
poem by Emma Lazarus
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Diana
What are you looking for at night
When moon is shining in the springs
And where the birds in warble fight
Flapping enchanted their wings?
Can't you perceive this nice array
Of leaves that whisper in the glade
And kiss each other and they play
In the refreshing forest's shade?
And like in mirrors moving fast
You want to watch a funny game,
In waters that have come and passed,
While your big eyes remain the same?
The spring has filled the woods again
Reviving everything, in truth,
However, all your thoughts are vain,
Like Endymion's, that fair youth.
Why do you want to be alone
With the low voice of secret source?
To hear the leaves by the wind blown
And sleep on grass, dark green and coarse?
And from that light reaching the glade,
From the cold waves, from shadow's charms,
To rise a fairy, a dear maid,
With big blue eyes and naked arms?
Oh! Now the boughs are bent with care
By little arms, so snowy white,
By a sweet face with yellow hair
On a tall body, slim, upright.
A golden bow makes her complete
And going hunting with much grace
On the innumerable leaves
She barely left a tiny trace.
poem by Mihai Eminescu, translated by Octavian Cocoş
Submitted by Octavian Cocoş
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The Red Rose
The red rose wept for long
Upon the autumn sad song
And then recovered from grief
And shattered the wet green leaf
The spring is there but the tears
Of lover, the autumn how bears
The little heart in search of charm
Is beating and beating and warm
The red rose is watching the gloom
Of the lover’s heart being in boom
His beloved had nodded him back
The rose from him she does not take
The nature feeling warmth is now cold
The autumn will take him in firm hold
The beauty will go leaving the scars
Of drowning moon and falling stars
The thorns will curse the rose to retreat
The red rose weeps on nature’s treat
It doesn’t matter what have gone
The rose will wait for the dawn
The spring no more helps the friend
His beauty will shatter like wall of sand
His days of life will end very soon
At morn, at noon or after noon
The rose sees autumn in the spring
A wave of sorrow his end will bring
The red rose weeps and weeps more
Upon these tears his eyes will sore
No spring can stop, no joy can amaze
With each passing moment his death he chase
So times are when autumn comes in spring
No joy can touch you no nerve can sing
February 16,2005
poem by Abdul Sattar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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PH passions: Falling In And Out Of Love
Passion
I’ve got a new passion, can’t stop writing
maudlin poetry when experiencing these
heavenly transports, least I’ve learnt to
hold my tongue and not drive colleagues
up the wall with my odes to joy, but I have
to write about it so much to express a host
of joyous emotions that is overpowering,
juvenile and magnificent all at the same time
Stones
In the old days I fell in love with stones
collecting them illegally in nature resorts,
walking back and forth with enormous stones
between campsite and beachfront, sitting up
till three in the morning playing with them,
at home varnishing them and placing them
all over the house till the mess was too much
and the kids started throwing them around…
Shells
Then I had a love affair with shells, collecting
them for hours and lovingly washing them in
the bath, sorting them then arranging the small
shells in the big ones, pasting them down with
salt and icing sugar, a flimsy affair but so delicate
and enchanting, covering them with cellophane
handing them out as gifts to my friends – what
they did about the ants I don’t know…
Branch and Rope
Then I hung up the branch of a tree in my office
decorating it with glitter and shells and anything
nice, pictures of fairies and elves, and then
criss-crossed the ceiling with rope on which
to hang more fanciful stuff, even condom balloons
when it was forced upon us during a promotional
campaign, feathers and small toys I secretly took
from the kids’ rooms in a bid to save them
Bricks
Feeling quite insulted when my boss objected to
this lovely mobile of mine whereas the cleaners
designated me the local sangoma – an honourary
title, of course - then I discovered bricks, the red
clay ones called mamparas that glow with life
and feel so good to the touch, I licked them and
took them into the bath, the easiest way to clean
them and scratching the bathtub irreparably, then
Gross
Pasting dried leaves and flowers on them, finishing
off with silver glitter, a wonderful mess, brought
them to the office one by one, bricks, dust, clay,
dried flowers and glitter messing everywhere…
Because of my odes to clay bricks a translator
actually licked one - when I saw how gross it looked,
I was most heartily ashamed and never did it again
at least not where other people could see me
Grass Phase
Then I had a grass phase, being fascinated with
golden elephant grass, I stashed grass everywhere
and it was beautiful, but hubby was quite disgusted,
grass is messy and we don’t live in a den – so out
they went – then the stringing little-glitter-thingies
everywhere-phase came and went, it seemed that
passion phases were over - nowadays my taste
is more sophisticated – but
An Affliction
I still can’t get rid of another affliction: Licking an
empty ice-cream plate; always making sure the kids
can’t see me, but I know it is terrible all the same-
only my mother forbade us to do it when we were
small, so it became a token of solidarity among us
that we licked those plates – in spite of her edicts
against it, In any case, after that I discovered PH
and my passions drove people wild, now I fall in
and out of love without anyone being the wiser…
poem by Margaret Alice
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The Creeks Of Thoughts
there is this poetry
that wriggles like a snake
that transforms itself
into a creek
that coddles the banks
of the rivers
the feet of mountains
that mirrors the moon
that serves as map
for clouds drifting
there is this pathway
full of grass
that leads us to
nowhere
but we are confident
about the
happy ending
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bucket Kicker
What rhymes with bucket?
'That depends.
Is the bucket empty?
And
Is there anyone kicking it? '
Let's say the bucket is full.
And it is being carried?
'In a Porshe?
Or a Mercedes? '
You know
Sometimes I wonder why,
I bother to ask you anything!
'Oh
So 'you're' the kicker?
That should be obvious.'
Why is it obvious now?
'Well,
If a bucket is struck by a kicker out of luck
And that bucket is not picked up,
That bucket struck aint worth
What's being dumped into it from an outhouse.'
What's an outhouse have to do with it?
'That's for you to figure out
That bucket I'm going to carry
Is going to be in the trunk of my limousine.'
Thank you.
But that doesn't rhyme with bucket
'My plucked duckets
In the trunk of a limo
Sitting filled to the brim
In my golden bucket
And your hands aint around
Or near enough to touch it
Uh, I don't know about you
But that sounds very poetic to me
And you can fuss and cuss,
While kicking your bucket all you want
Thank you for your inspiration.'
No problem.
I just know from now on
Not to ask you anything
'I'm cool with that
Bucket kicker.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Down By The Sea
Where the tumbling frothing surf,
Meets the sand dunes' spiky turf,
And daring seagulls dive and screech,
Above the sunny sandy beach,
Inventive children with bucket and spade,
Run down from the esplanade.
Lobster pots are drawn up to dry,
Beneath the blue and breezy sky,
And seaweed waiting for the tide,
Lies still, with nowhere else to hide,
And the tangy, salty languid air,
Makes one want to stand and stare.
A crab who liked the noonday heat,
Makes a speedy fast retreat,
As all his space has been invaded,
By humans looking for a shaded
Place to sit, and rest, and play,
On this hot shifting sand, today.
Then wafting gentle winds whose kiss,
Anoint our bodies with cooling bliss,
As through the hours of burning sun,
We try to get our tans well done.
They, nowhere else, could better be,
Than on the shore, down by the sea.
poem by Ernestine Northover
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In The Mood
Hes in the mood to touch the fire
Hes in the mood to touch everything you are
Jackys locked in a silent dream
Hes watching movies on the tv screen
He feels unsteady, lights a cigarette
Hes getting mellow in his cabinet
Oh, jacky, when everything goes wrong
Get ready, for youve got to be, youve got to be so strong
Its so supersensual, sentimental
Forget about your deepest fears
Switch back to the golden years
Youve got to touch the fire, wake up little boy
Youve got to play the fire
Jackys spying, is it her or not
His eyes are burning cause the brains too hot
He sitting calmly on his swivel chair
Theres something coming from the upper stairs
Now listen to me, jacky
You were always so lonesome in that quiet lonely house
High on a hill
Now come... come and meet me
You know where
And we take a nice and easy holiday
Back in the old, old days of happiness
Oh jacky....
Switch back to the golden years
Gold/1984
song performed by by Alphaville
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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