Shattered Glass
The volume in agony, designed by the hands of darkness - Forms the ice around my heart, soul surrounded without a sound - Caged by bone to be protected, by age, our end is selected - What i lack in life is fear, do you water your eyes everyday with tears - You stare across a field to watch the birds nest in a tree, i see a chair - You look at the branches, i noose my neck, to be roped, i have had my chances - I walk the path, ontop of shattered glass - My prints are left behind on your field, blood stains are painted on the grass - Sellected by a paper shield, scissor reflected
poem by Unic Cjonr
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Related quotes
Mandilyn
As I lie on the grass
In the field upon my back,
At the heavens as I stare,
To remember my love, who now is there.
The clouds they shape her gentle form
The birds they sing her happy song,
The wind again it speaks her name,
As I hear it call for Mandilyn.
Oh how I long for her gentle touch,
How I long for her gentle kiss,
How I long for her loving hug,
Oh Wife, my life, you I miss.
I close my eyes and I see your face,
Lying beside me upon the grass,
Laughing and smiling we are again,
But when I open my eyes, you are gone again.
I see you walking rose in hand,
In the heavens your above this man,
Happy again I see you are,
Oh death, why be you so far.
The clouds they then turn a misty gray,
The wind has stopped calling her name,
The birds they all have flown away,
Then upon my face, it begins to rain.
But is it rain, or is it tears,
Falling from heaven upon this Man,
It is as though my wife’s trying to say,
In heaven again we’ll be together someday.
As I arise from the grass,
I leave the field into the night,
Death it came and it tempted my soul,
But then it left, when my Wife’s love did grow.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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A Bird's Nest
An old man, who had charge of field,
With pride he saw two birds did build
A broad, capacious, warm nest ;
Soon full of young with speckled breast.
And when the old man there did pass,
They soon ran merry 'mong the grass ;
But of the youth they were so shy,
They made strong efforts for to fly.
Youths tried with old man to prevail,
To let them blaze away at quail;
But, though they longed for a fat pot,
At them they never got a shot.
No more the old man doth them shield,
For they have flown to broader field ;
Long may they spread their wings and tail,
And may no foe them 'ere assail.
poem by James McIntyre
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Blood on your hands sister
You said you loved him told him you cared
Promised him forever together
Instead you broke his heart into countless pieces
You drew tears of blood from the Prince of hearts
Hurt his pride with your insolent words
Blood on your hands sister
Blood on your hands
I saw the pain in his eyes
I felt the bitter tears that he cried
Kicked a man when he was down
You left him a broken man
Blood on your hands sister
Blood on your hands
From a loving giving sensitive Prince amongst men
You took your pleasure and stifled his laughter
You took your fill and threw him upon the scrapheap
Blood on your hands sister
Blood on your hands
But his precious tears are wasted
Wasted on a dry barren heart like yours
For his heart is alive and flourishing
Whilst yours is dead and lifeless
He is the victor
Whilst you the loser
You may wash your hands of him
But the stains will never fade
Blood on your hands sister
Blood on your hands
poem by Lilac Wine
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A Scissor's Story
there was once a boy
who is afraid of scissors
and the scissors keep on
threatening him,
until one day when the boy
gained strength to face
that scissor and
he tied it with a string
on his neck and
paraded it on the streets
of the town
his thumb was cut
and blood dripped along the
path
towards his self-gained
freedom
and then he laughed
as the scissor gets too sharp
for the pleasure of
his neck
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Imaginery
Paper Flower
I linger in the doorway
Of alarm clocks screaming
Monsters calling my name
Let me stay where the wind will whisper to me
Where the raindrops as they're falling tell a story
In my field of paper flowers
And candy clouds of lullaby
I lie inside myself for hours
And watch my purple skies fly over me
Don't say im out of touch
With this rampant chaos
Your reality
I know well
What lies beyond my sleeping refuge
The nightmare i built my own world to escape
In my field of paper flowers
And candy clouds of lullaby
I lie inside myself for hours
And watch my purple skies fly over me
Swallowed up in the sound of my screaming
Cannot cease for the fear of silent nights
Oh how i long for the deep sleep dreaming
The goddess of imaginery light
In my field of paper flowers
And candy clouds of lullaby
I lie inside myself for hours
And watch my purple skies fly over me
song performed by by Evanescence
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Everyday is the same
Everyday i see city dust rise up high
Mixed with smoke of different hues
I see torrent rain fall from the sky
Mingling with our tears, we have no clues
Everyday i wonder why our trees are lean and leafless
Hanging shames on every rooftop
Whose branches the birds count worthless
For niether rest nor nest they hold up
Everyday i see feet scurry to and fro
Zig zag, zag zig, i watch till night
Then i wonder where each city-soul will go
When it is dark, and no more light
Everyday i wait for answers none i get
Another day must start the same, i bet!
© Allen 2010
poem by Okonkwo Osamedua. Allen
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You Painted the Tree I'm Looking For
Your eyes are love
Their holding on to me
I need a big paper so
I can paint them alive
You painted the tree I’m looking for…
Every night I go to sleep
I want to taste your smile
So that my blood starts to boil
I fall asleep in warm dreams
You painted the tree I’m looking for…
I’m stuck here in prison
It’s really really cold
But your voice embraces me
Keeps me from my illness
You painted the tree I’m looking for…
…You painted the tree I need for living
poem by Ilme SonCries
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The Insomniac Who Drew The Head Of A Sheep Wildly On A White Paper
the insomniac's heart is bleeding. she is in pain tonight like the other past night.
she thinks she is dying right on her own bed. changing positions. finding the right way to sleep. she could not find it. she is lost in the darkness of this loneliness. she goes naked towards the refrigerator to get a cold glass of water.
ice cubes. water rushing to the glass. clicking sound of glass and another glass.
coldness rushing to her esophagus. Coldness multiplying in her burning heart. her blankets burning. She could not sleep tonight. She gets a white paper, a pen and begings to scribble her life: wildly, some lines run. Shaping the head of a sheep. one. two. three. four. five. Five eyes. She stops. She needs five eyes to see everything. Awake. The ceiling where the lizards grow to become alligators on the plywood swamp. No grasses but cobwebs of sleepy spiders.
Five Jacks are hidden on the ears. On the ears are hairs of corn. Blonde. On the nose are paper clips. With them, she is cruel. Then she hides a bull inside her pharynx, the one that shits inside her mouth. She stinks. The bull makes a call for desire. For lust. She closes it with the prison wall of her teeth and gums and lips. Her lips are sealed now. All the five eyes are open throughout the night. Looking for love. Love is not found. Her heart bleeds. Stains of blood penetrate the white paper.
She had not slept for five nights. She will add another five eyes. She knows
if this happens again and again, she will die. She pretends that she is strong.
She will not forget these nights. Preludes to her death. She writes some hieroglyphics all over the empty spaces of the white paper. She will not forget
what each line and curve and sharp edges mean. She codes them. She writes the date 9.2.2008.
She does not put her name. It is enough that no one knows and remembers.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Agony
Ever wonder how He felt?
Praying in the garden
His students asleep
Could not watch for an hour
He knew He had to die
Even if it's just for me
He would be scourged
He would sweat blood
Even if it's just for me
Agony!
There He was, fixed
Nails in hands and feet
For a moment
Abandoned by God
Agony!
They pierced Him
Blood and water gushed
Mom at His feet
Brothers vanquished
Head bowed
Breathed His last
How He felt?
Think you have it hard?
Think about Him
Agony!
He was wrapped
Buried and left
Thought it was the end?
Not so fast!
Three days later
He got up
Just like that
Now He reigns victorious
Today knees bow
Eyes close
Agony?
poem by Buxton Shippy
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Eternity, And Such...
eternity, and such...
the stain in the coffee cup,
the holes in the old man's underwear.
the rough tongue of a stray cat,
the shadow moving in the alley.
the trail left by the snail,
paper cups blown by the wind.
the blood left on the highway,
the dog dead in the ditch.
the glass shattered on the floor,
the stink of the body
three days after...
the limb torn from the tree
by the memory of storm.
your pillow, my hat,
a shot of brandy in an empty room.
the sound the heart makes...
when no one can hear!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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At The Un-National Monument Along The Canadian Border
This is the field where the battle did not happen,
where the unknown soldier did not die.
This is the field where grass joined hands,
where no monument stands,
and the only heroic thing is the sky.
Birds fly here without any sound,
unfolding their wings across the open.
No people killed – or were killed – on this ground
hallowed by neglect and an air so tame
that people celebrate it by forgetting its name.
poem by William Stafford
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Through the field I See
A field of green grass awaits me.
I have been on this grass before and it brought suffering and
anguish.
I wait for the pure colors of pink and red to cover all of the
envious grass.
In this field of colors I have not experienced.
Many a people, hand in hand, take this path of red and pink.
Through many a people take the field of grass choosing the
poison of which they will drink.
poem by Stephen Howard
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Scent Of The Lover....
i am still water, moonlit and waiting.
i am the crucifix made of fingers,
the letter written in blood.
the fool tripping over windmills,
the beacon from a distant shore.
dust in the corner, dew on the grass,
the eyes of the racoon,
the bat hanging upside down.
the whisper of moss,
the depths of the cave.
the pine tree fallen across the path.
i am the kiss long silent,
the iron skillet, the tin cup.
i am the body of the wind,
without beginning or end.
i am the child alone,
and the woman abused.
the angry man, and the broken glass.
i am the farmhouse deserted,
the voices of ghosts.
i am the spirits of slaves,
who call in the night.
i am the cock and the dawn,
the howl of the dog.
the pilgrim beaten and robbed,
and left for dead.
i am the cry of childbirth,
and the shout of death....
i am the scent of the lover,
that stains your soul!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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A Tree in a Field
There once was a tree,
A tree alone in a field.
And as that tree grew
It got bigger than all 'round.
And people would often stop
Just to look at that tree,
That tree in a field.
Till one day one person,
Went and cut down that tree,
That tree in a field.
And you know what?
That tree learned one thing
Don't stand too tall too fast,
Or someone just might
Cut you down.
poem by Matthew Tener Wade
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About Your Denial....
Do not think that i am speaking of death
your view must be limited like an afternoon without hope for light
You have pocketed a smile
as though you are preparing for your usual cry
Do not think that life has gone awry
like the glass that spilled the milk
rolled on the table and fell on the floor
the sound of shattered pieces of glass
that feeling of stain
that silence that expects the reverse
of what actually happened
Come to think of it
this is just a path where everyone passes
they look forward for something else
like an open door that leads to a garden
a pool
a line of coconut trees
another view of the sea
a net full of fish
Come to think about it again
i am talking about life that remains life forever
you know it well
as it is written in the main page of your heart
you feel its song
you have read each word
and your soul has mastered it well
But for the meantime that you are lost in the middle
of everyday affairs
you pretend that you have forgotten it
afraid of the next door that opens
you settle for a chair....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Walk To The Water
She said it wasnt cold
She left her coat at home that day
She wore canvas shoes
White canvas shoes
Around her neck
She wore a silver necklace
It was given to me by my father, she said
It was given to me
She took the back way home
Passed the lights and the summerhill
Turned left onto the north strand
And on, and towards the sea
He said he was an artist
But he really painted billboards
In large capital letters
Large capital letters
He was telling jokes
Nobody else would listen to him
I saw you that day
Your lips were cherry red
Your legs were crossed
Your arms wide open
Your hair was coloured gold
Like a field of corn
You were blown by the wind
You were blown by the wind
Walk, walk, walk...to the water
Walk with me a while
Walk, walk, walk...to the roadside
Walk me in the light
A room in the royal hotel
Sea facing views
A man with a suitcase
Full of things he doesnt need
Im looking through your window
Im walking through your doorway
Im on the outside
Let me in
Let me love you
Let me love you
Let me...
Walk, walk, walk...to the water
Walk with me...yeah
Walk, walk, walk...to the roadside
Walk with me again
song performed by by U2
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Flowers for me.
Here, in the green field, yonder the sky is blue
Behind ‘Ramogi" sacred hills, I see it blue
I wade past the tall, spear like flowering grass
To, pink, red, and yellow, I pick the flowers
Up a tree I see two weaver birds building their nest
Flowers I sample, all alone, for me, I'll bring these to my nest.
poem by Charles Jagongo Ogola
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I Am Surrounded
Safety in numbers?
I see this world in a different light
Safety in solitude-
In my home,
Out on the streets or
On the path I walk everyday –
Anticipation can be
As threatening as can be
A brushfire in the heavens where
There are no clouds to hide it and worse yet
No rain to quench its perilous flames-
Realization is none but a nightmare-
People walking behind me,
Ahead of me-
Eyes are upon me-
In a dangerous manner
My inner strength is flagging and
My spirit, my soul, and the very heart of me is afire-
Trees growing tall,
Their branches budding and
Grasses growing while bird chant their
Morning arias- spring is upon us,
I foresee no destiny, no rainbows-
No safe haven and I wonder-
Am I blazing pathway towards the underworld-
Is there mercy for my thoughts misconstrued as they are
Fighting a battle in the midst of terror
Searing my very essence?
A hundred yards behind and
A hundred yards before-
May as well be millimeters as I believe
I am surrounded?
I am surrounded –
By evil intruders who wish to harm me and
By children of hellions –
Upon this pathway I walk
There is nowhere to turn to escape
These enemies of my heart, mind and spirit-
Trees growing tall,
Their branches budding and
Grasses growing while birds chant their morning arias-
Spring is upon us-
I foresee no destiny and as I look towards the horizon and
See the sunrise-
I look towards the right of me,
I glance to lest of me and
Fearfully, behind-
Spring is upon us-
The most picturesquely bountiful time of the year-
In this world I see all humanity
Conniving, evil and threatening-
It has been as an eternity since I have seen a rainbow or
Since I have heard my own laughter enlightening
The path upon which I walk in my life-
I am not safe here- or
At home, all is bleak and ominous-
I am terrified because my sun has disappeared behind the
Mountains in my dark world and
I am surrounded,
I am-
poem by Claudia Krizay
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Faded pictures
NLY two patient eyes to stare
Out of the canvas. All the rest-
The warm green gown, the small hands pressed
Light in the lap, the braided hair
That must have made the sweet low brow
So earnest, centuries ago,
When some one saw it change and glow-
All faded! Just the eyes burn now.
I dare say people pass and pass
Before the blistered little frame,
And dingy work without a name
Stuck in behind its square of glass.
But I, well, I left Raphael
Just to come drink these eyes of hers,
To think away the stains and blurs
And make all new again and well.
Only, for tears my head will bow,
Because there on my heart's last wall,
Scarce one tint left to tell it all,
A picture keeps its eyes, somehow.
poem by William Vaughn Moody
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I Stare In The Mirror
i stare in the mirror
streams rolling down my face
holding a razor blade ever so close
trying to figure out if this is the time to go
i stare in the mirror
thinking to myslef
is this what life is suppose to be all about?
what ever happened to true love
stand by each other no matter what
i thought i found my soul mate
i chased her away with my brutal words
i stare in the mirror
frown in disgust
who have i become?
were has everyone gone?
regrets are seeping down my back
pain is oozing through my heart
my tears have created a puddle
in which i can see myself
i stare in the mirror
remebering better times
we thought we were soul mates
we had the marks to prove it
if i close my eyes i can see ur face
i can even sometimes feel u in my arms
these r all that i have left with, fading memories of the past
ur heart has since hardened
u have moved on and left me in the past
i stare in the mirror
i have no fear
i can feel all the hate coming off u
i cut myself to feel ur pain
hoping i can understand
at the same time relizing that i may never know
i stare in the mirror
i dont have any fears
my tears roll down my face
all the regrets all the appolgizes cant seam change anything
i have no one to blame
im full of shame
i wish i could of bin the man beside u
i stare in the mirror
look deep into my own eyes
i can see the pain that is inside me
all the failures
all the disapointments
this is just icing on the cake
blood splatters on the mirror
i dont have any fears
god will probally denie me
im ready to go
bottle of whiskey is at the bottom
theres no point
all ur hate has soaked into me
im dissapointed in myself
i have no will to go on
i cant hold my head up high
im lieing on the ground
covered in blood
holding a picture in my hand
smiling for the first time
i slit the other wirst.............
i stare at my body
as i float above it
my life passes before me
i relize
i wasted my life
time would would of healed my soul
i copped out ran away
left anyone who cared behind
now i float in endless darkness
i was right god did denie me......
poem by Jessie Davies
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