Frame Shattered Glass
window frame shattered glass
reflects no light dust disembowels
nail polish veneer shade layers
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Related quotes
How Bizarre Picasso's Guernica
had a strange bizarre idea
an explosive expression of force
a kind of Kung Fu high ya
to write split images
slicing Picasso's Guernica
are ambitious goals
‘Counting Skeletons
Maze Masterpiece War' cannon fodders
expendable human wave attacks
counting skeletons
military civilians animals
far too complex figures
for mind dumb numb critics
expecting classical critiques
lacking Geneva Conventions
tone deaf paint strokes
powerfully counting skeletons
symbolist blood cubism's
splitting images
is poetic cubism slices
shifting images
lenses
original concepts
shifts
heightened are purifications
lenses through looking glass
quality intensity frequencies
window frame shattered glass
reflects no light dust disembowels
nail polish veneer shade layers
behold I am the light sparks
cast upon yonder wall outpourings
what colours abuses decays?
images screaming ghosts
paper mache bull's horns
tearing apart peace dreams
bits of newspapers
blue shadings
ripe purple bruises
a red tear streams
from screaming eye woman's
nightmare deletes
colours
so must Picasso's
images
final phases
defeat reeks
flesh decays
monochrome metal monsters
political black white gray tones
felt impact descent bomb blasts
evokes deaths
flesh sufferings
war insanities
lick wounds
impaled oozing sacrifices
histories pages
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Reformation
Reformation
Bleak and tired Western skies
Silence crashing with quiet lies
Shattered glass reflects elation
Reformation, Reformation.
I saw you running through my dreams
Question held me to the scene
Your face was wet with perspiration
Reformation, Reformation.
There's something wrong
There's something wrong
Man is something that must be overcome
Quick, snap, break, crack, complication
Reformation, Reformation.
I saw you running through my dreams
A sun that burst through a cloudy scene
Shattered glass reflects elation
Reformation, Reformation.
Bleak and tired Western skies
Silence crashing with quiet lies
Shattered glass reflects elation
Reformation, Reformation.
song performed by by Spandau Ballet
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Case Of The Window Pain
an astute answer
discerning shrewd
would surely mention
this wit must be
personification
of a window pane
as for the window pain
perhaps the window is shamed
perhaps the window is dirty
as for the window pain
perhaps the glass is cracked
small large cracks streaked
as for the window pain
perhaps cricket ball punctured
victim of circle game holed
as for the window pain
perhaps the window is broken
glass shards bear crime witness
as for the window pain
perhaps window frame rots
an old window in house derelict
as for the window pain
perhaps the window witnesses
child abuse domestic scenes violent
poem by Terence George Craddock
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The Glint of Light on Broken Glass
The glint of light on broken glass
Reflects all the time that will pass.
It shines in shards on dewy grass—
Under the moon's
Emaciated, pallid mass
And twilit swoon.
Its viridescently gleaming
Rays are sinuously streaming
While half the world is still dreaming.
Through the junctures,
A shatter of lights are teeming
In the fractures.
In that clutter is clarity.
It's furcated for all to see,
Split where the frame was once empty.
The glint of light
Goes beyond the window to be
Restored tonight.
poem by Tim Stensloff
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In Trying To Reconstruct The Self
shattered pieces of self
like fragile glass
scattered on the floor
one must pick the pieces
and glue
the past and the present
and polish the
future
everyday is a reconstruction
a reunion of the mind and the heart
do not be left out
somewhere in the dark corridors of time
embrace the light and take another step forward
for life's essence is always to move on and on
those that stop shall soon decay
they rot and the layers of time soon bury them
in the land of oblivion
come! come with me!
hurry! hurry! time has big wings and too swiftly it flies away
for unlike the mind with memories that may come back
time only moves forward and then forgets
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Glass Boy, Spare Some
Pliant flame, spare one simper for a boy
Who wore a vessel of naked sincerity too lucid
That reduced his opulence into thin films
Of frailty, steadfast with detrimental affection
Of vulnerability, committed to debonair convictions
He submits into a disposition of undeserving woes and pains
In a terrain with no tender arms, a valley of jagged hopes
That glistened like the epitomizing skin of shattered glass
Phosphorescent crust encumbering a fragile soul
Spared of scarce sympathy, corrupted of his golden crown
Abrade of flaws and lamentations, tethered in a town
Of make believe people and cheap bliss that tinker
Inside a hollow glass receptacle too agonizing to touch
The papyrus-thin veneer of diaphanous crust
In a vow to transparency to the skeletons and demons
That cordially lingered in the wardrobe of terror
Giving away all that there is; hope and its disease
Porcelain grandiosity drained in a lack-lusting ride
Of rueful nights, sullying to impotency a glass-like pride
Held by the hand, but who would hold such fragile hands?
Shattered mirrors and razor edges, fulminate thy prancing light
And devour the darkness of the mantling abandonment
Spare a piece of heaven, glass boy of flimsy grip
Spare an ounce of faith, glass boy of authentic grief
For I have enough spared for a goblet full of emptiness
Iron eyes for a glass frame, a boy too earnest.
poem by Norman Santos
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Feeling The Life Of This Earth
at the end it is just you and
as usual all alone with a little
difference though
that in this particular moment
the moon above you is full and
floats as calmly as a mellow shade
of borrowed light
soft and tender
above your hair
there is home in loneliness now
no one screams and blames another
there is no running anymore
away from something broken
or shattered glass with pointed
pieces
you lay your body upon soft green grass
under the thin golden shade of light
feeling the the life of earth
gently gently beating
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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And There is...a Mirror
And there is a mirror
A legend of honesty
Shadow for someone
And never be the light
That is mirror
Sometimes gloomy and icy
Sometimes lives just to see
That is mirror
Sometimes reflects from the wasted
Giving the venom contained truth
But let the mirror
Standing strong without losing freedom
Before the spell is broken
And bursts like shattered glass
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Once Upon A Time, Long Long Ago...
it could have been over that very day
shattered glass
tears of rage
and 'I hate you, I hate you, I hate you'
but we were never satisfied with just enough
we had to go until there was nothing left
until we were down to bones and dust
it was all about the kill
it was nothing but constant pain
a two year game
it wasn't my life
it wasn't even my body
but I was there and I saw it all happen
every single moment
but now I don't remember a thing
except that one day
shattered glass
tears of rage
and 'I hate you, I hate you, I hate you
poem by Ziska Leigh
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That Afternoon
i was there again
standing by the side of the old
glass windows
hazy because of the dust
it is hazy, hazy
the sea is linen white
the coconut trees as tall as they are very old
planted perhaps before the war
before the Japanese came
and ravished the spirits of our innocent people
i was there again
standing on a moment
always seeing
that rusty van parked
without its front wheel
nobody from there is asking
what is happening
it is hazy, as hazy as dusts
on that old glass window
then a black bird flies through
it breaking the thin old glass
into shattered pieces
the afternoon ended
on that sudden noise
i am telling you
i am not shocked because
i am not new to this
how can i be? i am as old and as
tall as that coconut tree
i am from this place
and i know each grain of sand
on the shore
of that white linen sea.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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As if a magical barrier had been drawn
When I was a teenager
my younger brother
used to wait
until I was in the bathroom
to say cheeky things to me
and to look for trouble
from the outside
beyond the frosted glass.
I’ll beat you up
I used to declare
and he would laugh
and say something more
as if a magical barrier
had been drawn
between the two of us
and it went on
till one day
that I saw his outline
against the glass.
He said what he thought
and I didn’t let him pass
and pieces of frosted glass
shattered and
flew away
while I knocked him
through the window
against the head
and that was the last of it
poem by Gert Strydom
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Hot
So hot here even the trees are looking for shade
Come on they scream we do this all year
Without being paid
The tar is lifting of the road
Praying for a water truck to spill its load
Roof tiles crying you think its hot down there
Try being up here
Its so hot it warps the door
They scream we cant take any more
Glass from the window pane
How would you like to be stuck in this frame
In the distance rain clouds appear
Yippy cries come out
Rain will soon be here
The Hurt Ego....
some windows really are kept open
even at midnight
the moon in its fullness has always been
that welcome visitor
that sense of mystery long gone
opening a window has always been considered
a healthy option
and people who pass the street look at you
standing by the window
in openness
you trust that openness being arms that know the value of embrace
can be redeeming
in fact some children who play in the yard
have a way of looking at you as their idol
they clap their hands and dance for you
it happens almost all days of the year
the open window appears like a warm smile on the face of sorrow
not everyone likes it though
there is a crazy old man and he picks a stone and throws it against
your glass window
your window cracks and your smile become a word
with double meaning
what damage must have the old man caused?
you should know, you have too
wisdom still lies with the old
their discipline is still in the stone
that leave a scar
on the shattered glass
the ego, this self.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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the old man in Greece...
somewhere in Greece
now i remember
because of your letter
there was an old man
who holds a piece of
a shattered mirror
that he carries everywhere
and those that he cannot
confront
or say
see directly he does
with his mirror
and he had since then
seen them all
whatever light he captures
he reflects it to those
who are sad like him
and he tells himself now
i understand
now i am no longer afraid
now i can proceed to
the ways of
being alone
what road is left
he must traverse
what thought is there
he must think for
himself
and before he died
(because he died in truth
alone in his bedroom)
he wrote his view of the
world
in that shattered piece
of mirror
still reflecting
whatever small light
he stored
from within....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Sometimes I am amazed of the magic that is done
It all started with something insignificant
Like dust,
Sticking on a window pane, and I want it
Dusted off, it is dirt, it is unwanted,
And I do not even know what to do next
About such
Insignificance and feelings of simply
Trying to get rid of dust immediately,
But then, I begin to think about this
Dust, this me, this dust in me,
Some dusts on my feet, some dusts on
My forehead, and some dusts in my ears,
Some dusts in my eyes so obstructive
Of what I really am, and I know what to do next,
The bulb lighting in my head in a sudden,
I touch the dust,
I feel the dust with my fingers, and I am crazy enough
I taste the dust on my window pane,
And I shiver,
I am shaking to its taste, the taste of nothingness
If was from dust that I really come,
I now remember,
It will be to dust that I shall return,
I am now reminded,
And the dust that I used to see
As dirt, as something so insignificant, is now,
A magical patch, glistening, so filled with meaning,
I am nothing but dust; I am biting the dust,
I am very insignificant, in that window pane, at first.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Red Frame/white Light
Red frame white light
Telephone box
Red on grey
Six three two three double o three
Red frame white light
You have a gray book
On a metal shelf
Red frame white light
Numbered calls
Selected places
Red frame white light
Telephone calls
Black and white
Red frame white light
You have a yellow book
With averts
Red frame white light
There is a black lead to a dial and phone
Red frame white light
Six three two three double o three
song performed by by Omd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Glass Rose (Moan Of The Night)
a glass rose
shattered on the bare floor...
tiny pieces glinting
in the late evening light.
an old photograph,
half burned in the ashtray...
hand on fire,
slips down, fingers enter
where faces disappear.
a small crucifix,
the breeze slips through the window,
picking up the scent,
staggers as if drunk.
the cruelty of the door,
the latch, and the shadow...
that laughs as it closes
the book and turns away...
a glass rose,
and the moan of the night!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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On a hot summer afternoon
On a hot summer afternoon
I open the window and listen
To the flowing wind
Dry leaves on the tree rustle
The atmosphere filled with dust
The sun shines
Emitting tremendous heat
Making the wind hot and severe
Everybody on the street
Runs for shade
Throats dry
Thirst for water increases
Every soul
Search for a glass of cold water
Birds and animal rest in shades
Waiting for the sun to set
I close the window
In a huff
Never to open and feel the wind
On another hot summer afternoon
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
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It's an insight
didn't you know
it's not glass that draws the window
and it's not the frame
neither the closing nor the opening
it's an insight
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Tooth And Nail
I'm tired of all this cheap talk
When you walk next to me
They say I ain't good enough for you
Why don't they come and tell me
When they see us out in the night
They can't wait to tear us apart
Now I hear them saying lovin' you ain't right
Well they'd better be ready 'cause honey I'll be there
I will fight tooth and nail
Count on me, I will not fail you
I will fight tooth and nail
They say I'm always breaking promises
And I'm just fooling with you
Then they try and come between the two of us
Man, that's a bad thing to do
I can say I had more than enough
But I ain't gonna take it too hard
I said hey, they want to play rough
Well let's see who backs down when the trouble starts
I will fight tooth and nail
Count on me, I will not fail you
I will fight tooth and nail
Come on try me, I won't give in
They take advantage, but they can't win
I'll be your man, baby, wait and see
Ain't nobody, nobody take your love from me
I will fight tooth and nail
I was wrong, I will not fail you
I will fight tooth and nail
I'll be your man, baby, wait and see
Ain't nobody, nowhere take your love away from me
I will fight tooth and nail
Count on me, I will not fail you
I will fight tooth and nail
Right now, tooth and nail
I am waiting for the fight
Tooth and nail
Right now, c'mon, tooth and nail
Right now, tooth and nail
C'mon, tooth and nail
Ah fight
Tooth and nail
Right now, c'mon, tooth and nail
C'mon, right now, tooth and nail
song performed by by Foreigner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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