Communion
Alone, I look through my eyes
and see the world
as it is, as I think
it is, as I want it
to be:
bright mornings,
shimmering lawns, trees glowing
golden as night dissolves
to glaring day.
I hear mourning doves,
raucous crows, roar of lawn-mowers,
distant whisper
of traffic
and believe these proof
that I alone can end the night
of anxious dreams,
with quick breath and
eyes wide open.
But one day, stepping
through terminal veils of pain,
startled, pulling back the black curtain,
in the unexpected rush of ecstasy
I'll discover the truth:
my never-ending
communion with
You.
poem by Steven Federle
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Related quotes
Crows
THEN, suddenly, I was aware indeed
Of what he said, and was revolving it:
How, in the night, crows often take to wing,
Rising from off the tree-tops in Drumbarr,
And flying on: I pictured what he told.
The crows that shake the night-damp off their wings
Upon the stones out yonder in the fields,
The first live things that we see in the mornings;
The crows that march across the fields, that sit
Upon the ash-trees' branches, that fly home
And crowd the elm-tops over in Drumbarr;
The crows we look on at all hours of light,
Growing, and full, and going these black beings have
Another lifetime!
Crows flying in the dark
Blackness in darkness flying; beings unseen
Except by eyes that are like to their own
Trespassers' eyes!
And you, old man, with eyes so quick and sharp,
Who've told me of the crows, my fosterer;
And you, old woman, upon whose lap I've lain
When I was taken from my mother's lap;
And you, young girl, with looks that have come down
From forefathers, my kin ye have another life
I've glimpsed it, I becoming trespasser-
Blackness in darkness flying like the crows!
poem by Padraic Colum
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Eyes Wide Open
Your eyes are wide open, but yet you don’t see
All the love I have inside of me.
Eyes wide open, but you don’t look around
You don’t open your ears, you don’t hear a sound.
Eyes wide open but the beauties that surround you
Do not seem to exist.
Is it that your eyes on you are playing tricks?
Eyes wide open and yet you have a blank stare.
Have you closed off your mind?
Or you just don’t care.
What can I do to remove that haze
So that on my face you can gaze.
If I hold you tenderly in my arms
And kiss those beautiful eyes.
Will they move? Will they cry?
What must I do so that you can see
That our love was meant to be.
They say that you went deep inside yourself
To hide the hurt and pain
But without your love “ I am the same”.
Eyes wide open. Did they just glance at me?
Is it because your heart is finally free?
I see a tear forming in your eyes
Emotions being let out that you tried to hide.
Eyes wide open- now they are mine
I can see your love for the very first time.
poem by Louis Rams
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Penumbra
As I sit here in the quiet Summer night,
Suddenly, from the distant road, there comes
The grind and rush of an electric car.
And, from still farther off,
An engine puffs sharply,
Followed by the drawn-out shunting scrape of a freight train.
These are the sounds that men make
In the long business of living.
They will always make such sounds,
Years after I am dead and cannot hear them.
Sitting here in the Summer night,
I think of my death.
What will it be like for you then?
You will see my chair
With its bright chintz covering
Standing in the afternoon sunshine,
As now.
You will see my narrow table
At which I have written so many hours.
My dogs will push their noses into your hand,
And ask—ask—
Clinging to you with puzzled eyes.
The old house will still be here,
The old house which has known me since the beginning.
The walls which have watched me while I played:
Soldiers, marbles, paper-dolls,
Which have protected me and my books.
The front-door will gaze down among the old trees
Where, as a child, I hunted ghosts and Indians;
It will look out on the wide gravel sweep
Where I rolled my hoop,
And at the rhododendron bushes
Where I caught black-spotted butterflies.
The old house will guard you,
As I have done.
Its walls and rooms will hold you,
And I shall whisper my thoughts and fancies
As always,
From the pages of my books.
You will sit here, some quiet Summer night,
Listening to the puffing trains,
But you will not be lonely,
For these things are a part of me.
And my love will go on speaking to you
Through the chairs, and the tables, and the pictures,
As it does now through my voice,
And the quick, necessary touch of my hand.
poem by Amy Lowell
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Very Deep In The Dark Moonlit Night
Very deep in the dark moonlit night
I still hear the sound of doves
where the whole night they coo, whisper and laugh;
I see the yellow moon glowing as a sickle
where it hangs high above the horizon,
there are thunderbolts lashing thundering,
in blinding flashes of blue-white light
with the doves scattering scared over the roof
when the storm walks nearer through the tree branches.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Float
it's a beautiful world
everyone's insane
either you swim
either you fade
it's a revolution time
we're sleepin' at the wheel
apocalypse child
in a nuclear field
we wanna change the world
but not what holds us back
i wanna be for you
and i never have
all of this time
i'm just tryin' to reach you
through the rain traffic
as we float into space
your wide eyes
hide your face
as we float inbetween
i am with you
if you bleed
we back up to the waves
this is the truth of days (!?!)
when i am with you
i feel a little brave
the madness and the wars
the circles that we run
confusion is in for (!?!)
what we have become
all of this time
i was just trying to reach you
through the rain traffic
as we float into space
your wide eyes
hide your face
as we float inbetween
i'd die with you
if you bleed
as we float
as we float into space
your wide eyes
hide your face
as we float inbetween
i'd die with you
if you bleed
as we float
i'd die with you
i'd die with you
i'd die with you
song performed by by Bush from Golden State
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Heroin arms
littered with tiny
specks of blood
punctured
a hundred times
for the sake of
a Paradise
beyond pain
never obtained
yet sought
time and time again
still
he dreams of Celene
of her black hair
black as night
dreams of Celene
with her black hair
soft and sweet
dreams to flee
this god forsaken city
sewer of death
to Greece
Celene
in the sun with me
in the ever sweet burning sun
and rest in the night wind
the night wind
wind from the sea
upon the land
the golden land
shimmering
with wheat and melons
and something happens
happens to us
we would be happy.
poem by Charles Chaim Wax
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The 4th of July
I walked out to see the world on the Forth of July
A sleek black bird with bright, round, yellow eyes
Marched outside my front window
Clearly, not a Crow; Crows hop in an aggressive, impressive way
This smaller beauty, maybe a Brewers Blackbird,
Marched with head up and chest out as if to a tune
Over a hill, near the road
A Robin searched the newly cut hay for his breakfast
Trees moved gently in the breeze
The pond waters did not stir
Except when a damsel fly swooped low
No tractors or mowers noised the air
Motorcycles and trucks rested this holiday morning
The early quiet now broken by a raucous Crow
Calling from a tree down by the creek
Answered quickly by another up in the woods
In the first hours of this day
A rocket launched six months ago
On target, on time
Penetrated a comet to examine its dust
Explore how our universe began
I walked out to see on the Forth of July
July 4,2005
poem by Marjorie DeBol DeFazio
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The Inquisition
I Woke at dead of night;
The room was still as death;
All in the dark I saw a sight
Which made me catch my breath.
Although she slumbered near,
The silence hung so deep
I leaned above her crib to hear
If it were death or sleep.
As low—all quick—I leant,
Two large eyes thrust me back;
Dark eyes—too wise—which gazed intent;
Blue eyes transformed to black.
Heavens! how those steadfast eyes
Their eerie vigil kept!
Was this some angel in disguise
Who searched us while we slept;
Who winnow'd every sin,
Who tracked each slip and fall,
One of God's spies—not Babykin,
Not Babykin at all?
Day came with golden air;
She caught the beams and smiled;
No masked inquisitor was there,
Only a babbling child!
poem by William Canton
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Outside331’sSleep
Don’t open your eyes yet not until I explain last night I went to bed with Sleep last night I fell for Sleep last night Sleep unclothed me left me naked in a room painted black I couldn’t see Sleep because Sleep was dark too and the room was black and the foreground blended in with the background I couldn’t tell what was far and what was close I became frustrated because Sleep was either hiding inside the room or the room was hiding behind Sleep neither were being fair to my eyes who wanted to play hide and go Sleep I hide inside the room and Sleep seeks I said where are you Sleep I can’t see you my eyes can’t find you Sleep I said I wanted to fall inside you brought me into this black room and I am trying to wrap myself around you won’t you come inside of me you won’t stage scenes in my eyes created with color everything is black one long stretch Sleep are you moving and I can’t see you or are you standing still and I can’t feel you are here Sleep you are silent Sleep I feel alone Sleep I want you to be inside me if you take me to a black room and make me go to bed are your eyes open I can’t see you did you leave is Sleep here Sleep am I inside you explain Sleep explain did you open your eyes Sleep are my eyes open Sleep are you outside me Sleep you took me to bed and left me Sleep I can’t open my eyes until you are back inside me I can’t see Sleep when you’re not inside me open your eyes Sleep do you see me inside you explain last night am I still inside Sleep?
(12-13-07)
poem by Chelsea Trescott
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Your Eyes
My heart always cries
When I picture your eyes
Singing love with silent song.
Shining like dew
In the fire of the sun
Haunting me all day long.
Rainbows and you
Hide where distant dreams belong
Sparkling but out of view.
Why did it end
When the note i did send
Flew with Cupids' dart
Blew your world apart.
Sweetest sonnet at twilight hour
And laid upon it dawns' fragrant flower.
Arriving
The rhyme for your sighs
Reviving lost tears in your eyes.
When we made love
With the rhythm of the rain
Tap dancing on your window pane
Your eyes burned starlight
Into my brain
In dreams I return to again and again
Sweet birdsong i hear
Through avenues of pain
Your eyes call me back
Through midnight forest I run
My colours fade to black
Then kissed awake by morning sun.
But clouds still drift across my soul
Lovelight departed, I tumble and roll
And lie waiting alone
In this world of disguise
I look up at starred night
For just one glimpse
Of your eyes.
poem by Kevin East
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Eyes Wide Open
I'm a fortunate son of a fortunate son
Living large on the wrong side of town
Too many friends and the fun never ends
Drinking and hanging around
I wanna rule the world wanna swallow it whole
At least I could kick it all down
I wanna kick it all down
Eyes wide open I can't see
Eyes wide open what you mean
Eyes wide open I can't seem to be
My eyes wide open I can't see
Eyes wide open what you mean
Eyes wide open I can't seem to be
I don't take the bus and I never walk too far
The furthest I got was my own backyard
With a fist full of cash that somebody else earned
Send me some more when it all got burned
I wanna take control
song performed by by Goo Goo Dolls from A Boy Named Goo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dover Beach
The sea is calm to-night.
The tide is full, the moon lies fair
Upon the straits;—on the French coast the light
Gleams and is gone; the cliffs of England stand,
Glimmering and vast, out in the tranquil bay.
Come to the window, sweet is the night-air!
Only, from the long line of spray
Where the sea meets the moon-blanch'd land,
Listen! you hear the grating roar
Of pebbles which the waves draw back, and fling,
At their return, up the high strand,
Begin, and cease, and then again begin,
With tremulous cadence slow, and bring
The eternal note of sadness in.
Sophocles long ago
Heard it on the Ægæan, and it brought
Into his mind the turbid ebb and flow
Of human misery; we
Find also in the sound a thought,
Hearing it by this distant northern sea.
The Sea of Faith
Was once, too, at the full, and round earth's shore
Lay like the folds of a bright girdle furl'd.
But now I only hear
Its melancholy, long, withdrawing roar,
Retreating, to the breath
Of the night-wind, down the vast edges drear
And naked shingles of the world.
Ah, love, let us be true
To one another! for the world, which seems
To lie before us like a land of dreams,
So various, so beautiful, so new,
Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light,
Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain;
And we are here as on a darkling plain
Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,
Where ignorant armies clash by night.
poem by Matthew Arnold (1867)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Silver Dreams, Golden Smiles
You came to me
In a silver dream
With a glowing flow
Of a mountain stream
You lift my soul
Way beyond the sky
Just to wake me up
With your golden smiles
Chorus:
Silver dreams and golden smiles
Silver dreams and golden smiles
Silver dreams and golden smiles
Silver dreams and golden smiles
I knew one day
You would come my way
You would help me see
The reality
Heaven and earth
They are one, the same
In my heart I know
When you call my name
Chorus
Dreaming when Im wide awake
See, when my eyes are closed
Flying, I dont need no wings
Being everywhere at once
Hold me, hold me in your arms
Fill me with your glowing grace
Chorus
song performed by by Santana
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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End Of The World!
pan fried tators,
grilled trout,
cool clear spring water.
smoke rising slow,
the coffee starts to boil.
black crows circle,
eyes down in the brush.
clouds chasing forever,
nowhere else to be!
night fall coming,
you can feel the trees whisper.
mountains in the distance,
nod without a word.
curl up together
to the crackle of the fire.
while the old dog watches
for the end of the world!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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The crows, he said,
would roost each night in the middle one
of the three tall trees at my garden's end,
every night the flock of crows,
every night the middle tree,
except the once,
just the once,
the only night they did not come,
the very night a German bomb
hung-up, dropped late, and hit the tree.
The crows, he said,
were back next night in the left-hand tree,
where crows have roosted sixty years,
every night the flock of crows,
every night the left-hand tree,
except tonight,
except tonight,
the only night they have not come:
awake, I watch that moonlit tree,
the gap where something used to be,
awake, I wonder -
poem by Wild Bill Balding
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Oh the despair
oh the despair now that all hope is gone,
and the white doves have been silenced mid song.
the terrible whisperings of bleakness,
in full flowing despair, the room now dark where once it shone
all images of interest now seen through the eyes of a dog
the rainbows of inspriation discoulured by the all consuming fog,
every nerve every sinew every passage of thought,
blocked like that of a traffic jam in a tunnel,
the light of hope falllig then fading,
the still of the room vibrating inside me
it came from where, this despair,
waiting in its black hole ready to tear limb from limb,
there i sat shivering in the cold waters of the sea of misery,
even the fresh flowers on the farm house table,
drooped under the gaze of my hazy hollow eyes
who robbed me, why choose me what was so special about my plans
they was simple and un-affecting to all but me
so upon my bed i lay as the last of my spirit drips away
the uneasiness of the night has crept into the day
oh the despair now that all hope is gone,
the white doves silenced mid song,
in lost souls lobby is where i now belong,
the crows now cackle,
long into the heavy night
poem by Not Long Left
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Eyes
Eyes are blue
Eyes are green
Eyes are true
Eyes are mean
Eyes are bright
Give the light
Eyes are black
Like the night
Eyes are cold
Eyes are warm
Eyes are angry
Like a storm
Eyes are kind
Eyes are blind
Eyes are evil
Eyes of devil
Eyes are hungry
Eyes of walls
Eyes are empty
Eyes of dolls
Eyes are loving
Eyes are charming
Eyes are lying
Truth denying
Eyes are haughty
Eyes are naughty
Eyes are naïve
To all they believe
Eyes are strained
A fear remained
Eyes without hope
Ready for the rope
Eyes are vulnerable
Eyes that gamble
Eyes are sensitive
Eyes are attentive
Eyes are stubborn
Eyes are submissive
Eyes of a new born
Eyes are pensive
Loving eyes are true
Black, brown or blue
My eyes are green
A lot they have seen
©Larisa Rzhepishevska
January 11th,2011
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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Crystallize blue Daffodils
promise me that the long way is done
and the pasture land lives lively as the splendor
plains of joy, with flourishing spirit to hold
back on the journey as we go, the heart rejoice
sing the silent, whisper of wonder for
I can always understand that life has to goes on
though, the heart gives the blues of an ending
green heart, I return
rest my eyes, back off the cried emotion
of the dew, far beyond amassed the love that
had just begun, into the world of truth of joy
and ecstasy searching to find a golden home
to stay
zeal me to the morning of the first bird, the
praise comes to the sun light of fall, where the
sweet remembering is the eve of telling my
day of dream as I tell you today …
poem by Antonio Liao
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Crystallize blue of Daffodils
promise me that the long way is done
and the pasture land lives lively as the splendor
plains of joy, with flourishing spirit to hold
back on the journey as we go, the heart rejoice
sing the silent, whisper of wonder for
I can always understand that life has to goes on
though, the heart gives the blues of an ending
green heart, I return
rest my eyes, back off the cried emotion of the
dew, far beyond amassed the love that had just
begun, into the world of truth of joy and ecstasy
searching to fins a golden home to stay
zeal me to the morning of the first bird, the
praise comes to the sun light of fall, where the
sweet remembering is the eve of telling my
day of dream as I you tell today …
poem by Antonio Liao
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I Heard The Night Whisper Again
I HEARD THE NIGHT WHISPER AGAIN
I heard the night whisper again
I waited for words.
The darkness came
And the words with them.
Night is now the poem
And darkness the destiny.
I hear silence
And a deep calling from another distant world.
Outside all white light denies night its meaning
Inside- the changes of life mean-
Abstraction no longer makes sense.
I hunger to hear my words spoken
But they are blank as dust as dust as the fallen page as the night that never stops happening- the infinite darkness
I hear and I hear but where are you who hear also?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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