Rubaiyat 14
Since the flower withers in the dark,
The bud blooms to leave its mark,
Happy is the heart, light as a bubble,
At the tavern is naked, stark.
poem by Shams al-Din Hafiz
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Love shifts by the successor
Flower that blooms at sunrise
Stays and withers at sunset.
Next day, another one does.
Love that blooms every time
Withers soon for the next one.
06.10.2003
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Bubble In My Heart...!
There's a bubble in my heart
A bubble that floats
Like it is made out of soap
There's a bubble in my heart
A bubble that dance
Like it is riding on the breeze
A bubble a bubble in my heart
A bubble a bubble that fills my heart
There's a bubble in my heart
A bubble that sings
Like it knows how to sing
There's a bubble in my heart
A bubble that roams
Out of my heart in to the storms
A bubble a bubble in my heart
A bubble a bubble that fills my heart
There's a bubble in my heart
Baby can you see that
Yeah the bubble in my heart
There's a bubble in my heart
A bubble that shines
Much more than sunshine
A bubble a bubble in my heart
Yeah baby, there is a bubble, a bubble in my heart....!
poem by Rowving Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Just Look At You Now
You were a flower in a bubble
floating about the place.
You were a flower in a bubble
with the sweetest, shyest face.
You were always pretty and smiling,
and just bounced off ugly things,
but one fine day your bubble burst
and you developed wings.
You became ready for any occasion,
you dressed either up or down.
Your make up's to shock or horrify,
or to impress in Ya Ya town.
You now design your own wardrobe
and make the items you wear.
Bangles and beads you throw together,
from places you don't declare.
You laugh at the incredibly unfunny,
and stand way out from the crowd.
You were once a flower in a bubble,
poem by Orlando Belo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Stark (5,3,1 structure for Gulsher: -)
All matter that existence here
constructed of quark?
Stark
Everything you need for life
Fits one arc?
Stark
A misty graveyard with only
Song of Lark
Stark
Raving madness that takes hold
Makes you bark
Stark
Cutting bluntness of succinct remark
Stalks like shark
Stark
Barron, the searing hot desert
Must not disembark
Stark
Broken mind, shades
under depression
So very dark
Stark
Winters morn sitting on bench
In empty park
Stark
poem by Stevie Taite
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Stark
All matter and existence
build from the concept of quark
Stark
Everything you need for life
Fits on one Arc
Stark
A misty graveyard with just
the song of the Lark
Stark
The raving madness that takes hold
and makes you bark
Stark
The cutting bluntness
of a succinct remark
Stark
Barren, the searing desert.
I fight the urge to disembark
Stark
A broken mind, in the shade
of depression, so dark
Stark
A winters morn alone
on a bench in an empty park
Stark
poem by Stevie Taite
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Darkness And Daylight
You love the day, worship the light.
You mourn the setting of the sun, hide from the night.
I?
I curse the light of day, though most would praise and cheer.
I say if there were no light, the dark would hold no fear.
How would we feel about the dark if the harsh bright sun had never shone?
We would not wish for light!
For we would know the dark, alone.
It is the harsh, stark light of day which makes the dark of night seem cold.
Dark is bad and light is good, or so I have been told.
But without the dark, what would be the light?
What would a day mean, if we had no night?
poem by Lynda Remus
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In the Dark
In the dark
All thoughts lie stark
In the dark
There is a spark
In the dark
He hits his mark
In the dark
Down falls the lark
poem by Gwenevere Cornwell
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New Zealand
good news from Rose
a flower blooms in her garden
i am not sure what it is
she is in a hurry
she jumps with joy and she hangs up
a miracle, a miracle she calls me
i do not know i refuse to know
we have been unlucky here
and faithless
but we do not mind anymore
Rose is happy and that is enough
whatever it is
she deserves it
a flower blooms in her garden
and she concludes
it is God-given.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Ah a happy lover once was I
Ah a happy lover once was I who had come
To look on her the one I loved so well
She who lightened and rang my gateway bell
Then to learn her gone so far from my heart home
Her departure saddened and dimmed all magic light
Happy time dies off at once from bower and hall
And all places are dark, dark in whole and all
The heart chambers are empty of any delight
I reminisced pleasant memories of a familiar spot
In which we two were wont to meet
Under a tree in an open field, in a chamber down lyric street
Foe all in dark now where you are not
Yet as I walk other streets wandering there
During those heart break deserted walks, I find
A flower beaten down with rain and wind
Which once they fostered up with gentle care
So she left me torn and tattered in deep regret
My forsaken heart my devastated soul
And this shaken flower like our love used to stand tall
Which she used to care for fades not yet
Oh poor love, Oh wilted flower hardly to rejoice the heart nor to please the eye
The force that nourished you is now your own demise and final tomb
Where is the hope that it can ever once again bloom
If dying, let it vanquish in the place where I myself die
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And Here Comes Dark
It's dark outside
But I see the light
Then darkness
I see the light again
And here comes dark
It's dark outside
I am lonely and sad
But I see the light
You ask my name
Then darkness
You take my hand
I see the light again
We fall in love
And here comes dark
It's dark outside
I can't find you
But I see the light
You were right there
Then darkness
I have my doubts
I see the light again
You say I'm wrong
And here comes dark
It's dark outside
I reach for you
But I see the light
You don't reach for me
Then darkness
I feel alone
I see the light again
I read your face
And here comes dark
It's dark outside
I want to leave
But I see the light
You're come to me
Then darkness
I feel your grip
I see the light
You're hurting me
And here comes dark
It's dark outside
I try to scream
But I see the light
You have my throat
Then darkness
I can not breath
I see the light
For the last time
And here comes dark
poem by Yasmin Rubayo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A seed of love
I stand here with a dying
flower in my hand
It's our love
It's petals lie at my feet
along with the pieces of my heart
All twisted and black
But deep in the dark corner
of your heart
Theres a seed
a seed of love
Being kept from the light
I know cause i planted it there
And when your mind feels free
to let the light in and let it grow
It will overcome you and burst into flower
I will be there to hold that flower
And we together will nurture
that flower
And from it make a garden of love
to live in forever
poem by Paul Larmour
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The Fragrance Of Virtue Rises To The Heavens
The blissful flower landed on the earthly dirt
And rooted its seeds on the bosom of mankind.
The flower blooms only in fruitful pure heart
Which grazes its petals like one hungry hind.
Virtues are the atoms of God, the holiest one.
The more we attain it, the more we appear near
To Him, His being, Virtues and godliness anon
As our soul drenches with immortal holy tear.
The earthy flower blooms, dies in perched air
With a fragrance that melts, melts, melts away.
But the fragrant flower of Virtue is always fair,
Its fragrance rises towards heavenly stairway.
poem by Osman Gani
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Leave A Light On
Leave a light on!
My bold soldier boy
Will be coming home soon
I'll leave a light on.
Leave a light on!
There is no telling where he might be-
Oh! Leave a light on!
Just in case he is coming back home to me:
I'll leave a light on.
Leave a light on-
It eases the ache in my heart
As the battles rage on.
Please, please leave a light on.
Leave a light on.
Those who watch over the dead-
Know to leave a light on.
For the dying the darkness holds dread.
So we'll leave a light on.
Leave a light on!
For the sweetheart who'll never come home...
I'll leave the light on...
poem by Megan Lacey
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dead Love
Dead love, by treason slain, lies stark,
White as a dead stark-stricken dove:
None that pass by him pause to mark
Dead love.
His heart, that strained and yearned and strove
As toward the sundawn strives the lark,
Is cold as all the old joy thereof.
Dead men, re-risen from dust, may hark
When rings the trumpet blown above:
It will not raise from out the dark
Dead love.
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Flower
Sitting in a flower of light
petals cuddle my fragile heart,
like a carousel, round and round it goes,
The nectar of this flower
like a healer's power
makes my heart stronger.
Abruptly
A dark blemish
of invisible force
wants to temper with the light
the petals close and takes my heart- into its vessel
-protecting.
'I can not allow, this playful mode
so it may seem
but not mistaken'
-The flower spoke and I awaken.
poem by Kasia Fedyk
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Heart Of The Flower
Now at the station, the train to another land
Lands of never seen light, light hidden in infinite night
Night in its biggest might, might of the strongest power
And there the smoke of the train to the heart of the flower
I take the first train to the heart of the flower
I take the first train to the heart of the flower
And there the smoke of the train to the heart of the flower
And there the smoke of the train to the heart of the flower
The waiting room of kingdom come, I look back upon my life
Life of loss but now the end
End of rat race overdrive
Overdrive to foreign lands
Lands of contemptous hours
And there the smoke of the train to the heart of the flower
Now on the train
This is the end of my day
I feel my spirits escape like a musical clock thats dying away
I turn once again and wave my hand and say goodbye
I never thought its so easy
I never thought its so easy
I take the first train to the heart of the flower
I take the first train to the heart of the flower
And there the smoke of the train to the heart of the flower
And there the smoke of the train to the heart of the flower
The heart of the flower
The heart of the flower
The heart of the flower
Diamond/1990
song performed by by Alphaville
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lanii (little flower)
little flower
ur petals grow brighter
u shy from the worst
and protected by the best
little flower
dont worry
he'll never disapear
he'll protect u
little flower
hes ur light
hes the sun that shines
u r his to love
but listen little flower
if he goes away
if he shines no more
i hunt him down
little flower
u r sweet
u can love
ur not weak
but little flower
ill kick his ass
ill make him bleed the light
hes ur protector little flower
hes bound to u
he can never leave
poem by Tionna Estrada
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Because Youth Is A Flower
because youth is a flower
that blooms only once
one must be kind to use
hands which are gentle
a flower is fragile with
petals and sepals and
stalks not strong enough
to withstand the demands of
time
the flower that blooms today
tomorrow shall die
each moment is crucial
each bloom cannot last forever
the flowers of my youth
if well taken cared of
shall proceed with its fruits
and its seeds.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Moon Shines In My Body
The moon shines in my body,
but my blind eyes cannot see it:
The moon is within me,
and so is the sun.
The unstruck drum of Eternity is sounded within me;
but my deaf ears cannot hear it.
So long as man clamours for the 'I' and the 'Mine',
his works are as naught:
When all love of the 'I' and the 'Mine' is dead,
then the work of the Lord is done.
For work has no other aim than the getting of knowledge:
When that comes, then work is put away.
The flower blooms for the fruit:
when the fruit comes, the flower withers.
The musk is in the deer,
but it seeks it not within itself:
it wanders in quest of grass.
There's A Moon Inside My Body
THE moon shines in my body, but my blind eyes cannot see it:
The moon is within me, and so is the sun.
The unstruck drum of Eternity is sounded within me; but my deaf ears cannot hear it.
So long as man clamours for the I and the Mine, his works are as naught:
When all love of the I and the Mine is dead, then the work of the Lord is done.
For work has no other aim than the getting of knowledge:
When that comes, then work is put away.
The flower blooms for the fruit: when the fruit comes, the flower withers.
The musk is in the deer, but it seeks it not within itself: it wanders in quest of grass.