Rubaiyat 28
Don’t let go of the cup’s lips
Till you receive your worldly tips.
Bittersweet is the world’s cup
From lover’s lips and the cup sips.
poem by Shams al-Din Hafiz
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Related quotes
Sweetest Sin
Can you imagine us,
Making love..
The way you would feel the first time that we touched,
Can you think of it..
The way I dream of it,
I want you to see like im seeing you..
It's a picture of perfection,
The vision of you and me..
Your lips upon my lips,
Can you just picture this..
Your finger tips on my finger tips,
Your skin upon my skin..
Would be the Sweetest Sin,
Would be the Sweetest Sin..
All night I lie awake,
Cause it's to much to take..
Dreamin' about the love that we could make..All day,
I think of scenes..
To get you next to me,
I want you so bad that I can barely breathe..
It's a sign of my obsession,
That I can't stop thinkin bout'
Your lips upon my lips,
Can you invision this..
Temptation that I could never resist,
Your skin upon my skin..
Would be the Sweetest Sin,
That would be the Sweetest Sin..
It would feel so good,
To be so bad..
You don't know how bad.. I want that,
I would do anything to feel your love..
Your lips upon my lips,
Can you just picture this..
Your finger tips on my finger tips,
Your skin upon my skin..
Would be the Sweetest Sin,
That Would be the Sweetest Sin..
Your lips upon my lips,
Can you invision this..
Temptation that I could never resist,
Your skin upon my skin..
Would be the Sweetest Sin,
Would be the Sweetest Sin..
Your lips upon my lips.. would be the Sweetest Sin
song performed by by Jessica Simpson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Last Supper
Marie Vaux of the Painted Lips,
And the mouth so mocking gay,
A wanton you to the finger-tips,
Who break men's hearts in play;
A thing of dust I have striven for,
Honour and manhood given for,
Headlong to ruin driven for,
And this is the last, you say. . . .
Drinking your wine with dainty sips,
Marie Vaux of the Painted Lips.
Marie Vaux of the Painted Lips,
ong have you held your sway;
I have laughed at your merry quips -
Now is my time to pay.
What we sow we must reap again;
When we laugh we must weep again;
So to-night we will sleep again,
Nor wake until Judgement Day. . . .
'Tis a poisoned wine that your palate lips,
Marie Vaux of the Painted Lips.
Marie Vaux of the Painted Lips,
Down on your knees and pray;
Pray your last ere the moment slips,
Pray ere the dark and the terror grips,
And the bright world fades away.
Pray for the peace and the rest of us:
Here comes the Shape in quest of us,
Now we must go away. . . .
You and I in the grave's eclipse,
Marie Vaux of the painted Lips.
poem by Robert William Service
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Read My Lips
Words and music: doug johnson, mike reno, neil shilkin
Here you come again, lookin for another thrill
With your lipstick, high heel shoes, lookin like youre
Dressed to kill
Tattoo stuck on you, branded by a chosen few
What short memory, now its time to pay your dues
Dont you hear a word I say?
Just turn your head and look this way
And read my lips
Read my lips, listen to me, Im talkin to you
Read my lips
Read my lips, Im tellin you, Im through with you
I know where you go when you need to get some
Bad little actress on a mattress, its seduction
Anything for you
You dont hear a word I say
So turn your head and look this way
And, read my lips
Read my lips, listen to me, Im talkin to you
Read my lips
Read my lips, listen to me, youre history
Ive been watching what you do
And it doesnt take a fool
To see what weve been through
Oh, gonna turn the page on you
(guitar solo)
You dont hear a word I say
So turn your head and look this way
And read my lips
Read my lips, listen to me, Im talkin to you
Read my lips
Read my tips, oh, Im through with you
Read my tips
Read my lips, listen to me, Im talkin to you
Read my lips
Read my lips, listen to me, youre history
Oh yeah, read my lips
I said, read my lips
Read my lips
Just read my lips
song performed by by Loverboy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Key-Board
Five-and-thirty black slaves,
Half-a-hundred white,
All their duty but to sing
For their Queen's delight,
Now with throats of thunder,
Now with dulcet lips,
While she rules them royally
With her finger-tips!
When she quits her palace,
All the slaves are dumb-
Dumb with dolour till the Queen
Back to Court is come:
Dumb the throats of thunder,
Dumb the dulcet lips,
Lacking all the sovereignty
Of her finger-tips.
Dusky slaves and pallid,
Ebon slaves and white,
When the Queen was on her throne
How you sang to-night!
Ah, the throats of thunder!
Ah, the dulcet lips!
Ah, the gracious tyrannies
Of her finger-tips!
Silent, silent, silent,
All your voices now;
Was it then her life alone
Did your life endow?
Waken, throats of thunder!
Waken, dulcet lips!
Touched to immortality
By her finger-tips.
poem by William Watson
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All Alone.
All alone except for
The dame sitting across
The way drinking coffee
Her lips ready to sip her
Hands holding the cup
Her finger looped through
The handle and she closes
Her eyes as she sips and
You notice how the lips part
And how the raised cup touches
The softness of her and you
Watch and imagine the lips are
Touching yours and she is
Emptying you of all your juices
And swallowing you up and
Draining you away just like the
Contents of the cappuccino cup.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Agoraphobia
Two people touching lips
Hands on each other's hips
Nothing in else in the world but one another
The 42nd floor
On a distant shore
I wonder how we strayed so far from this
Remember when we were
Just flesh and bone you sir
May have forgotten how good your world could be
So, put down your hollow tips
And kiss your lovers lips
And know that fate is what you make of it
Please end this
Before it ends us
I wanna stay inside
I wanna stay inside for good
I wanna stay inside
For good
I read the news today
And everything they say
Just makes me want to stay inside
And a better part of me knows
That waiting in the throws
Is on the par with reading with my eyes closed
"What Can I do?", You say
It's just another day
In the life of Apes with ego trips
Put down your hollow tips
And kiss your lover's lips
And learn that fate is what we make of it
Please end this
Before it ends us
I wanna stay inside
I wanna stay inside for good
I wanna stay inside
For good
I'm gonna stay inside
I'm gonna stay inside for good
I'm gonna stay inside
For Good
I wanna stay inside
I wanna stay inside for good
I wanna stay inside
Don't want to stay inside for good
song performed by by Incubus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pigalle V - 0117
Where the stranger brandy sips
when his taunter stands and strips,
man she haunts with hands and hips,
then she vaunts bare glands and nips,
again she flaunts fair fans and lips,
there the stranger, randy, tips.
(20 March 1976)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Who is dirtied?
When a man sips more than a cup,
polluted are not his own lips.
When a cup is sipped by many lips,
stained is the very cup.
In adultery, a woman is a cup.
She slips from the moral grip.
Patriarchy’s endorsement.
21.12.2000, Bbsr
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Remember
When I die
With the
Last poem
On my lips
You can
Kiss me
Goodbye
Closing my
Eyes with your
Finger-tips
And in the years
To come by...
Often on a wintry day
When the mercury
Dips....if you don't
Feel like having tea,
You can open up my
Poesies....and take
Some nice, warm sips :)
Never shed
Any tears
For me...
This is just
The way...
I want you
To remember me
With cosy kisses xx
And cuddles (...)
From me to thee :)
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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I Can't Kiss You
I can't kiss you as one drop
my lips are a boat that loves to wave your ocean
I can't kiss you as one match
my lips are the matchbox that lights your lips' fire
I can't kiss you as one moment
my lips are the clock that loses its hours
I can't kiss you as one lips' graze
my lips like to write long carmine stories
I can't kiss you right now
my lips need a romantic cosiness
I wouldn't like just to kiss you
my lips would like to pad into your lips' flower
(eternity)
poem by Ata Augustyn
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Bianca
Her cheeks are hot, her cheeks are white;
The white girl hardly breathes to-night,
So faint the pulses come and go,
That waken to a smouldering glow
The morbid faintness of her white.
What drowsing heats of sense, desire
Longing and languorous, the fire
Of what white ashes, subtly mesh
The fascination of her flesh
Into a breathing web of fire?
Only her eyes, only her mouth,
Live, in the agony of drouth,
Athirst for that which may not be:
The desert of virginity
Aches in the hotness of her mouth.
I take her hands into my hands,
Silently, and she understands;
I set my lips upon her lips;
Shuddering to her finger-tips
She strains my hands within her hands.
I set my lips on hers; they close
Into a false and phantom rose;
Upon her thirsting lips I rain
A flood of kisses, and in vain;
Her lips inexorably close.
Through her closed lips that cling to mine,
Her hands that hold me and entwine,
Her body that abondoned lies,
Rigid with sterile ecstasies,
A shiver knits her flesh to mine.
Life sucks into a mist remote
Her fainting lips, her throbbing throat;
Her lips that open to my lips,
And, hot against her finger-tips,
The pulses leaping in her throat.
poem by Arthur Symons
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Voodooded Lips
VOODOODED LIPS
esspeecee …18.06.09.
In the mirror of silence
I’ll reflect you lips’ eloquence.
In the mirror of silence
I’ll blush-in by your lips’ glittrence.
In the mirror of silence
I’ll unfold your lips’ innocence.
In the mirror of silence
I’ll savor to the lees your lips’ elegance.
In the mirror of silence
I get psychic catharsis
In our lip lock reminiscences.
In the mirror of silence
I’ll siphon in your lips’ effulgence.
In the mirror of silence
I’ll grope your lips
In abyssal absence.
In the mirror of silence
My lips will coalesce
In your lips’ effervescence.
In the mirror of silence
I’ll be vortexed by
Lips’ psychedelic resonance.
In the mirror of silence
We’ll passionately hug
With sensuous confluence.
In the mirror of silence
I’ll smear lips by
Your lips’ fragrance.
In the mirror of silence
We’ll tie-up our lips
In Monalisian resemblance.
In the mirror of silence
I’ll fresco my lips
From your lips’ brilliance.
In the mirror of silence
My lips will stain
By your lips’ every essence.
I’m voodooded by:
In the mirror of silence,
Your lips’ excellence,
And deluxe luminance.
Copyright reserved by the Author
.
poem by Dr. Sakti P. Chakravorty
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A Cry
Oh, there are eyes that he can see,
And hands to make his hands rejoice,
But to my lover I must be
Only a voice.
Oh, there are breasts to bear his head,
And lips whereon his lips can lie,
But I must be till I am dead
Only a cry.
poem by Sara Teasdale
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Benedictine
The Benedictine scents and stains
the languor of your pallid lips;
My kiss shall be a bee that sips
A fainting roseleaf flushed with rains.
I thirst, and yet my thirst increases
With draining deep and deeper kisses;
The odour of your breath releases
Desires that dream of deeper blisses.
And on my lips your lips now pressed
Cling moist and close; your lips begin
Devouringly to gather in
Your kisses that my lips possessed.
The odour of your breath releases
Wafts of intoxicating blisses;
Yet still my thirst of you increases,
I think beneath your thirsty kisses.
No kisses more, this perilous day,
Or tempting, tempt me not in vain:
This day I dare not taste again
Your lips that suck my soul away!
poem by Arthur Symons
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Steal The Thunder
Here you come again, lookin' for another thrill
With your lipstick, high heel shoes, lookin' like you're dressed to kill
Tattoo stuck on you, branded by a chosen few
What short memory, now it's time to pay your dues
Don't you hear a word I say? Just turn your head and look this way
And read my lips, read my lips, listen to me, I'm talkin' to you
Read my lips, read my lips, I'm tellin' you, I'm through with you
I know where you go when you need to get some
Bad little actress on a mattress, it's seduction, anything for you
You don't you hear a word I say, so turn your head and look this way
And read my lips, read my lips, listen to me, I'm talkin' to you
Read my lips, read my lips, listen to me, you're history
I've been watching what you do, and it doesn't take a fool
To see what we've been through, oh, gonna turn the page on you
(Solo)
You don't you hear a word I say, so turn your head and look this way
And read my lips, read my lips, listen to me, I'm talkin' to you
Read my lips, read my lips, oh, I'm through with you
Read my lips, oh, read my lips, listen to me, I'm talkin' to you
Read my lips, read my lips, listen to me, you're history
Oh yeah, read my lips, I said, read my lips, read my lips
Just read my lips
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
song performed by by Loverboy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In Despair
He has lost him completely. And now he is seeking
on the lips of every new lover
the lips of his beloved; in the embrace
of every new lover he seeks to be deluded
that he is the same lad, that it it to him he is yielding.
He has lost him copmletely, as if he had never been at all.
For he wanted -- so he said -- he wanted to be saved
from the stigmatized, the sick sensual delight;
from the stigmatized, sensual delight of shame.
There was still time -- as he said -- to be saved.
He has lost him completely, as if he had never been at all.
In his imagination, in his delusions,
on the lips of others it is his lips he is seeking;
he is longing to feel again the love he has known.
poem by Constantine P. Cavafy
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The fetish object
He told me that he liked me for my lips.
I didn’t know then he liked only my lips
Nor did I know that he would not indulge
In any act other than kissing lips.
What I found erotic turned repugnance.
What I pandered turned to be an ordeal.
He not handling but my lips in bed,
I soon cringed at his approach itself.
My lips have become to him a fetish object.
I regret having got married to him.
The want of spontaneity and variety
Have put me in cold storage,
My lips being sore and body burning.
09.11.2005
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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To ---- IX
They may talk of the eloquence famous in story;
Of the names that through ages continue to shine;
There never has fallen more true oratory
From the lips of a mortal, than falleth from thine.
With pathos and passion, oh! not more replete
Is the bard, though at Helicon's fountain he sips;
Nor his accents more glowing, persuasive, and sweet,
Though the bees of Hymettus had fed on his lips.
poem by Anne Lynch Botta from Poems (1848)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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If You Are My Food Spread On The Table
granting arguendo
my dear beautiful girl
that you are my food for dinner
what shall i take first?
your lips, oh, i love delicious lips
sweet lips, wet lips and tight lips, and
gripping lips to my lips
then your eyes
so i can enter your soul
these windows that cannot close
someone so lovely and loving you
as i try to be this air
invisible and yet so essential
to your being
i shall take every flesh in you
and every bone and every nerve
but there is one thing i shall not attempt to take
away from you
your heart, you may not tell me, but i know
it already belongs to someone else
in respect for true love
i shall leave it there
breathing, wishing, and still loving....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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My Secret
You've been told my secret
Not from the words of my lips
I wanted to keep it
Keep it on my finger tips
Wanting to tell you myself
Trying to find my courage
Wondering what are you thinking to yourself
Loosing all of my courage
Leading me far away from you
Slower each day
My eyes want to catch you in my view
Walking past you each day
But I don't won't to stray away
My heart is beating faster
For what I'm about to say
My lips begin to chatter
Chatter with the words in my mind
As I'm telling you my secret
From the words of my lips this time
Now you can keep it... our secret