Foolmoon
Nights that last three score hours
as mute minutes
slowly splutter out their life
waxing in endless repetition.
First thought at birth of day
Last at day’s death
a death that would not die.
Like a moth witched within your spell
mesmerized singe their soul, in the hell you make.
You were a heart user
craving game
seeking any succulent male loser
intercepted within your reach.
A black widow dancing on vibrant web
of your vile deception.
Potent fangs dripping venom
to suck forth each fresh life;
embalming chosen victim.
A single loose cinder
fallen from amoral ashen log.
Cast out ashen and bitter
seeking out flesh to blacken then blister.
Engulfing to sear in flame
the wages of pain you pay.
A pathway of torches alien from
the star speckled night,
lighting the darkness of your soul.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Related quotes
Beacons Beckon Glories
lighting torches
illuminating darkness
kindling star fires
to steal nights
star sky glories
in imaginations
youth seeds
future generations
fresh minds
dancing torches
beautiful poetic metaphors
dedicating passings
hope eternal seed flames
bright flicker soul fires
entreats next generations
Inspired by the poem ‘Light The Flame” by Eric Cockrell
poem by Terence George Craddock
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(Choices Poem) Circumstances Unending
If you had to choose what would you do
Circumstances unending
A victim of life
A victim of death
A victim of compromises
A heart in pain either way.
To make your world a little more okay
To let the one you love go for the better
Or the happiness of poverty in suffering
Like a mother choosing for a child
you must make the decision out of true love.
Forever the greater good.
The eagle looks upon us all with his eyes.
Only if I could see it that way.
If you had to choose what would you do
Circumstances unending
A victim of life
A victim of death
A victim of compromises
A heart in pain either way.
To make your world a little more okay
When you do such a thing their is no going back
Chasing after something you threw away.
All in a attempt to be the better man.
The homeless playing a game of kick the can.
Nobody ever wins.
It is to pass time as it will always do.
If you had to choose what would you do
Circumstances unending
A victim of life
A victim of death
A victim of compromises
A heart in pain either way.
To make your world a little more okay
Regret and bitter
Feelings that will never sit well with you
Your determined to overcome, and it not be prolonged
She is gone.
Forever a bad choice.
That you wouldn't want to change.
If you had to choose what would you do
Circumstances unending
A victim of life
A victim of death
A victim of compromises
A heart in pain either way.
To make your world a little more okay
The portrait of your face betrays the feeling inside.
The things you try to bury and hide.
At one time you were happy.
At one time you smiling and so full of spirit.
But now you fall into a very empty depression.
If you had to choose what would you do
Circumstances unending
A victim of life
A victim of death
A victim of compromises
A heart in pain either way.
To make your world a little more okay
No one will come and pick you up.
If you fall it will be you last one.
Like a soldier you still march as if you were still on call.
Duty and service is all you've ever known.
And now a world sits before you.
And still your all alone.
If you had to choose what would you do
Circumstances unending
A victim of life
A victim of death
A victim of compromises
A heart in pain either way.
To make your world a little more okay
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Integrity
Immortal life is something to be earned,
By slow, self-conquest, comradeship with pain,
And patient seeking after higher truths.
We cannot follow our own wayward wills
And feed our baser appetites and give
Loose reins to foolish tempers, year on year,
And then cry, 'Lord, forgive me, I believe --'
And straightway bathe in glory. Men must learn
God's system is too great a thing for that;
The spark divine dwells in each soul, and we
Can fan it to a steady flame of light,
Whose lustre guilds the pathway of the tomb
And shines on through eternity, or else
Neglect it till it simmers down to death
And leaves us but the darkness of the grave.
Each conquered passion feeds the living flame;
Each well-borne sorrow is a step toward God.
Faith cannot rescue, and no blood redeem
The soul that will not reason and resolve.
Lean on thyself, yet prop thyself with prayer,
For these are spirits, messengers of light,
Who come at call and fortify thy strength,
Make friends with thee and with thine inner self,
Cast out all envy, bitterness, and hate.
And keep the mind's fair tabernacle pure;
Shake hands with Pain, give greeting unto Grief,
Those angels in disguise and thy glad soul,
From light to light from star to shining star,
Shall climb and claim blest immortality.'
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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My Soul Lives With You In Your Dream
I'm thinking of you every day,
And seeking meaning of you in everything,
When i close my eyes to sleep at night,
My soul start seeking you in your dream.
I am the flower from your dream,
That scent to you amazing fragrance,
I wrapped you with my charm and beauty,
And let you to enjoy me every dream you have it.
When my eyes are tired and closing for sleep,
My soul awakes in me and seeking your soul in everything,
In the darkness of life you are my hope and happiness,
When do you sleep my soul lives with you in your dream.
My soul found you in your dream,
And dancing tenderly your soul,
A lovely love story of two souls,
That found each other in a crazy world.
poem by Cristina Teodor
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Soul On Fire
There's a flame that leads our souls astray
No one's safe from its tender touch of pain
And every day it's looking for new slaves
To celebrate the beauty of the grave
We are like the living dead
Sacrificing all we have
For a frozen heart and a soul on fire
We are like the living dead
Craving for deliverance
With a frozen heart and a soul on fire
And again we're falling for disgrace
And hate will shelter us from the rain
We are enslaved by the sacred heart of shame
And gently raped by the light of day
We are like the living dead
Sacrificing all we have
For a frozen heart and a soul on fire
We are like the living dead
Craving for deliverence
With a frozen heart and a soul on fire
Addicted to our divine despair
The venom of the cross we bear
The guilt will follow us to death
We are like the living dead
Sacrificing all we have
For a frozen heart and a soul on fire
We are like the living dead
Craving for deliverence
With a frozen heart and a soul on fire
With a soul on
Soul on
Soul on
Fire
Soul on fire
song performed by by H.I.M.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Moth
The Moth
Goes near it
To seek some light
In its world of darkness
To seek some respite
In its desolate life
To seek some warmth
In its search for love,
Care and belongingness…
The Moth goes near it
Hoping to find
Some acceptance
Some reciprocation
Of its burning desire
For that source of light
But try as he might
He fails, he fails
And he miserably fails…
Every time he goes to it
He comes back
With less of warmth
And a lot less care…
Burns and Scalds
On its bruised body
Because of the Light
That hardly cares
To share its luminance
To shower its radiance
On this hapless victim
Of its crude ignorance…
And yet the Moth
Madly in love
Dedicated to its light
That source of “delight”
Which it hopes
Would be for him
One day –
And pine for him
As he does for her…
He would win over it,
Come what may…
Goes seeking her
Night after night
And every night
He returns back
Burned and scalded
As ever before…
So with all these scalds
And scars of burns
Which he accepts
As the kind
Give-aways
Of his beloved light,
Tired yet devoted
With wings so torn
He can hardly fly…
He still makes
One last attempt
To appease his Beloved -
That luminous light
On one last night.
And he burns and burns
And he so badly burns
His body in ashes…
All over his Beloved’s
Flame of Light.
And in that moment
Of despair and death
Not just the night
Mourns this grave loss
Of love and longing…
The candle-light
Burning bright
For all these nights
Realises the depth
Of the Moth’s
Eternal love for her…
And in a sense of shock
Gives up itself
To the world of
Darkness and Death.
So now the burnt-out,
Withered Wick
Remains the stoic witness
To tell this tragic tale
Of the Moth and the Light
How they met every night
Yet there was no love
Lost nor gained,
Neither realised
Nor reciprocated.
And yet when they couldn’t
Unite in life…
Death found a way out
Heralding their sacred union
In the after-life.
Amen!
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Few Minutes in the Dark
A few minutes in the dark.
What kind of dark?
No light shining?
Depression?
A reality check?
A few minutes in the dark can change you.
Change you how?
Change your outlook of life?
Change your personality?
Cause you to sin?
A few minutes in the dark is dangerous.
How is it dangerous?
Swallow you up in fear.
Never feel happiness.
No more friends.
No more family.
No more love.
No more life.
No more light.
A few minutes in the dark is scary.
You see the evil in the world with no light.
You lose your light for a few minutes and soul dies.
You lose a person, a loved one, every single second.
You lose sight of them and they're gone forever.
A few minutes in the dark and you cant see anything.
No more things that coused you joy or filled with love.
A few minutes in the dark.
It takes only 30 seconds for a child to be kidnapped.
Then after that, they fall to the darkness.
Soul burned out, and love gone.
Another life fallen to the darkness.
A few minutes in the dark.
When you left the light, there is no turning back.
A few minutes in the dark, and you lose sight.
Lose sight of the light.
See what happens in the dark?
A few minutes in the dark.
Causes death.
A breakup between lovers and one points a gun to their head.
A few minutes in the dark and you die.
The light will be sealed from you along memories.
Memories of light and love.
The two things the dark can never have.
Light and love.
A few minutes in the dark.
And you cant remember your friends.
Did you even have friends?
A few minutes in the dark can change your way of thinking.
Reminding you of death at every corner.
You wander forever not ever finding the light.
A few minutes in the dark will change you forever.
Happiness always has its sadness.
Sadness always has its happiness.
Where there is life, there is death waiting around the corner.
Where there is death, there is life some where waiting.
Death is darkness.
You cant find your light if you cant handle a few minutes in the dark.
And maybe people are still stuck in the dark and we dont notice.
Reach your hand out and show them the light.
Everyone around us may look happy but they dont see the light.
A few minutes in the dark is a very sad place to be in.
Your blinded and confused.
you dont feel love and people all around us will always be in the dark,
waiting for a friend to pull them out.
There will be better days
poem by Natalie Vail
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Stars Burn At Their Brightest
I am the candle flame
which burns brightest
before last flickering moments
of struggling heart-torn life.
Each day a part
of me is consumed
in differing
though measured step.
Burned out forever.
Slowly I am drowning
wick is near liquefied end.
I’m falling without footing
or foundation beneath.
Can I exist a stub
upon discarded altar
of a God who did not see
or answer prayer?
Until dismal day
he deems fit, to clear
waxen dregs aside.
To be forgotten
as I was in last
fitful moments
when life
spluttered out
within me.
I am mesmerized moth
which dances
the most divine
on a starlit night
as wonder
fills the clear
star laid heavens.
Set against
a satin black night
which threatens
to swallow eternally
all within its veldt
stars burn
at their brightest.
So momentary moth
lives, loves, dances,
for an eternity
within winged magic;
of such a single night.
Then falls embracing
its greatest moment
a singled lifeless void.
But it dies at peace
at one with God
harmonic heavens love all things.
Only burn body remains
as dormant husk we see
to form elements in new beings.
For its essence
fled swiftly
to a more perfect plane.
It is only we
of human form
that embrace bewitching flame.
Then remain as tormented
empty husks forever.
Sands do fall slowly
as always
which gather
to contain life’s span.
But no joy
is found
in them rather
we would.
Sear them all apart
in a single
thunderous breath.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Facing Death In The Reflection Of Her Child’s Tear
Facing death in the reflection of her child’s tear
A weeping mother from some other world
Is seen to be holding on to a hope in fear
Keeping warm the memory of love beside the fireplace curled.
Late at night she prays, un-able to sleep,
Keeping watch until the day that no more is
Laughter new and moving in vibration
But an echo of fond memories fading.
She blankets the child in her flesh
Kissing him and breathing afresh new love.
Smothering with smiles and affection
The reflection of death within his eyes.
Slipping once more into the shadows
From which he came
His mother weeping, still unsleeping
Awaits reflections of death within her pain
She is seeking for that which absorbs her,
She is seeking that which will engulf her soul in solitude
Leaving her mourning, lamenting death in timeless rhythm
Forgetting the harmony of which we are part
Forgetting the eternity that exists
When lovers spend more than a moment apart.
She forgets that there is to be no regret upon this plain.
What sickness is it of heart and of soul that allows
Salvation to be preached without the kiss of ecstasy.
What horror is this to believe our world so fruitful
So beautiful is fallen as if it were inherently evil.
As if by adorning coats of skin we were dancing with the devil.
poem by David Lacey
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Lamp Lit Darkness In shadow Night
solo singer sang her soul songs
she sang opera upon life stage
all spell cast audience sat silently
listened silently sitting settled in chairs
listened to words in notes voice rapture
after success show was song sung over
an audience rose left slowly silent still
living echo of vibrant voice words enthrill
heard rosaceae heart opened bloomed
like life bloom song of vital rich red rose
later only I watched petal bloom free soul
after singer had cast off her formal shoes
to run barefoot in soft mist falling rain
to run through fresh puddles soft forming
in lamp lit mist darkness in shadow night
your soul free you ran bliss like a young girl
you ran vision race my heart also shared
could not contain in bound clay soul feeling
light shadow light shadow race you run
through night through many nights memory
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Soul Violence-Tina's Story
I am Violences' Victim
which scarred my soul
slammed it down
to earthly hell
seared it;
burned it;
made it cry
It shriveled
to a gnarled
stunted hulk.
There is no greater pain.
But I endured the pain.
I lived with the pain.
The pain became me'
dominated my life.
I struck out at others.
Cursed others
Wronged friends
who tried to help.
My victim violence
raged against them too.
Yet
over time despite all that
I nurtured my soul.
Gave it milk,
walked with it day by day
toward recovery.
Made it smile once a day
til a little of its pallor came back.
I was Violence's Victim
until I realized
that one has to be willing
to allow the Soul to live
again
if not
then to die
is anti-climatic.
I used to be Violence's Victim
now it runs away
having no more power over me.
And my new power
is not over violence per se
but the power
not to let it
carry forth
from me
to others
another
singe
day.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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The poem and her poet
Death once told poor life defeated by life:
Life's no life if lived on the edge of knife,
No more a struggle, nor is full of strife,
Do ye know how many deaths is Death rife?
Death's all death; the same is not true of life,
Life tries to knot her up snaps when death's knife,
But I've heard a man asking on death bed,
Pray, tell me Death, how long ere I'm all dead?
To him, said death, straightening up his head,
Moments might when look like minutes of dread,
Minutes stretch and stretch into hours, instead,
When hours take days, and days, years, you are dead.
Remember, life's lived moment to moment,
‘Tis measured too in a moving moment,
Forget not: Death alone is permanent,
I dwell in life from birth, live life dormant;
There's no freedom in life, nor should death call,
Death changes but the bricks of prison wall,
All quarrels ‘tween life and death, big and small,
Settled are, death when proves him far too tall.
Life is a small piece, but a paragraph
Of my poem, said Death, metre nor measure but in half,
Life may decide every new beginning,
But ‘tis me that knows the length, knows ending.
Eons pass sans measure for endless time,
While no clocks tick, nor dare their hours to chime,
Boulders of rocks break down whilst time stands still,
O grinding into grains of sands sans will.
While life is stuck with my poem's first rhyme,
Death challenged life to dare the worst she can,
I'm the Absolute trouser wearing man1,
I wonder how relative would tick time!
_____________________________________________ ___________
1. Death muses himself to be the male principle, the purusha.
The poem stands for life and prakriti. The piece here depicts
a dialogue between Life, or the matter, the poem and her
creator poet, the Death. In Indic philosophy, purusha is the
presiding deity, the atman or soul, which is eternal and body
is made of prakriti, the material nature, which is death-bound.
_____________________________________________ __________________
- Musings | 12.08.12 |
poem by Aniruddha Pathak
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Death, Inevitable Death
Death, inevitable Death.
So now You come to show Your world,
Hence the blackened cloak – unfurled.
And peering down upon my form
– Bereft of pity – Your eyes of storm.
Death, inexorable Death.
‘When? ’ The only question out of Thee.
My dream retorts 'But ne’er for me! ’
But now awake, I bid you so –
My giving tears cry ‘Where to go? ’
Death, adamant Death.
You cast Your spell and guide me 'way,
For life and I have had our day.
And what of me? I prey You, tell!
Be glorious in Heaven or gnarled in Hell?
Death, ineluctable Death.
Oh wiry ghoul, I'm here to follow –
I leave my body grey and shallow.
‘Come! ’ You bid in thund’ring tones,
‘Beg farewell to shattered bones.’
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Please take another vow dear
i have given all your need, i have shared what i have in my life
i prostate myself and swear to God and men to love you tell
beyond death, it is a promise. a covenant. a vow that leads
my life to complete my direction of destiny
giving is just a thing to forget, sharing is but a thing to be taken
loving is something that unite our hearts, it is ochastrated in
our soul, beyond a sounding joy of enchantment in heaven
a threshold to remember, and never be to be closed, a memory of
thy soul that life we taste is abode of expactacular miracle beauty,
a lingering happiness, where an endless joy stay
rejoice my dear, all makes the best for everything, a mirror of what
is life should be, a beginning that always wait for a happy ending,
where all has to continue life in an transcendental process of living
our own life
happiness conquer death, its the beginning of an endless birth of
a new life, and pain is eminent to accept, for seeing with
nothing to feel, my soul leaves but the heart i give lives in your
heart
in your solitude, as you stay, please take another vow, for only you
felt the vacuum cause by my pain, let your heart be strong, and live
life to where you belong
as i go, remember that my heart is only for you, and make the best
to live life, for you and the vow you say ' I do', i may be gone but i
live in your memory that their is only someone that.....loves.......
you most
poem by Antonio Liao
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A Single Candle/Death Herself
A single flame lights her face
The face of death
A single candle holds her fears
The fears of death
Her hands clasped anrond their souls
The souls of the dead
She feeds of their screams
The screams of the dead
Her legs lay bellow her
Bellow death
Her black gown over her body
The body of death
Her chest rises and falls with her breath
The breath of death
Her cloak drawn over her long flowing jet hair
The face of death
Her eyes unmoved unfeeling
Do you see it?
Do you see the soul of death?
Do you feel it?
Her skin as white as snow as it fades into darkness
The snow of tears
Her cloths as dark as night that swallows the light
The dark we all shall see
Her eyes close as she feels their souls flow
Flow from the dead
She leaves them there to lay in darkness
She steals from the dead
A single candle lights their faces filled with her
Filled with death
They fall into the darkness of her eyes, of her heart
The darkness of death
A single candle shall stay to light their way
Their way through the dark
A single candle holds their past
The pain and trials
A single candle lights her face
The face of death
A single candle holds her fears
The fears of death herself
A single candle
poem by Bethany Maxwell
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Shadows Of Darkness
Shadows of darkness fall over thee,
and a shroud of pristine white covers you.
Death is forming soul, and his raptures be.
I can no longer comfort you,
in this hour of your need.
Death has taken you too far from me.
A stone husk is all that’s left.
No warmth there within your breast,
no heart beating to keep you warm.
Nothing but a cold piece of flesh.
Stiff you become, as the hours grow long.
Your gone forever from this mortal life be,
no longer to touch or smell the fresh air,
‘cause death is your partner now, not me.
poem by David Harris
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Hello Have Mercy - Farewell Have Mercy
Hello have mercy
farewell have mercy
hello memory farewell
hello misery farewell
hello Life, as upon arrival we greet.
farewell Death, as from each other
we depart, never to meet.
the unseen candle's endless flame:
Beginning's perpetual passing;
Creation's ever burning start;
Becoming's self fulfilling prophetic pull;
Birthed into Death's black hole prison bardo.
Phantasmagoria of Madness's
endless panoramic blitz:
the never ceasing hurdles,
tackling Mind manifestations.
Awaiting the stoic senator's
sentinels of judgment and suspicion:
the clouded iron gates of persecution and bliss:
the potent allure of the storybook's ivory pearl ending:
the fable's inevitable stoning.
Reading Life by starlight;
Self intrinsic Truth inscribed:
Sky's vast volume of translations:
Self transcending syntax of the stars;
life saving death erasing
realization.
Opening up to the light's endless arms,
weaving space time fabric though the fibers of the flesh.
A solar bright soul, soulful burning star.
hello memory farewell
hello happiness farewell
farewell self have mercy
hello self have mercy
poem by Gregory Allen Uhan
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Beldame of Death
A crunch: afoot a dead arachnid
Spanning once a serving plate –
Oh! that others be alive
With such as me for spider bait!
I slunk along the silent hall
Of ancient ore attired in grime –
Feculent beyond the nose;
No bearing here, nor feel for time.
I shuddered in appreciation –
The ambience would mortify
A feeble mind, aghast, opined
Of murky thought, and typify
The will of Belial err I brought
Upon myself to loathe and dread
Exquisite retribution: to linger
Oftentimes alive, then dead.
Compulsion saw me edging on
Toward a narrow door of oak.
Behind, I knew, a greater evil
Waiting in her fusty cloak.
A choice of nil upon the table;
Aught of leave, I had to face
Alone the shrew – her flaming aura
Angling me; my deep disgrace
From ugly deeds I dealt in life,
A heinous world I honed in glee…
'Now take a crooked path to death,
For I have come to torture thee! '
Out of eyes of orange flame,
A piercing glare, then here it came –
The cackling cry of chanting song:
'You thought you'd die alone in pain
The once – nay nay! you'll die with me,
And so a catch: you'll die again
Ad infinitum - ever be!
Your soul to curse, my heart we'll gore,
Your liver to draw and quarter;
A sadomasochistic pair,
We'll slither together in slaughter! '
I answered only with a scream, from
Sensing near her craving lust.
My crimes to answer; wrongs annul;
Renounce my soul and turn to dust...
On an evening cool and quiet,
Stretch an ear to listen tight –
Are you lucky of a moment –?
Hark! my clarion call of plight.
Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009
Notes on this poem can be found at:
http: //succumbedtothinking.webs.com/featuredpoems.htm
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet: The Misled Woman
She trod on earth, much slippery and loose;
She walked barefoot on gravel that hurt her;
She did wrong things and appeared like a 'Goose',
She thought life's joy was flying like feather.
She strode in marshy grounds and alien place;
She posed in nudity on unsafe ledge;
She had a glamorous make-up for face;
But soon she found herself on life's own edge.
She breathed foul air and used her flesh to earn;
She ate rich food, quaffed wine, exotic/old;
Her soul to keep pure, never did she learn;
But passed her days, singly in lucre, bold.
But hell broke loose on earth when death came near;
Her ill-earned wealth could not undo her fear.
poem by John Celes
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The Kiss of Death
I
There she lay
Her soul astray
Her cruel lips
Where my soul slips
Into the taste of death
To find her breath
The breath of pain,
Where souls are slain
Death does not kill pain!
It lives in the one who suffer from it.
II
Death is the ultimate symbol of life
Its deadly kiss pierces harder
Than the plunge of a sharpen knife….
Death comes to us all
We know not when
Or where death will call
So our souls
Slowly slip
Into death's kiss
On her lip
Where we slowly sip
Death's dead breath
The kiss of Death
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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