Lost Again In Separate Jungles
You are a beautiful woman in a room of candles,
The aroma of jasmine drifts from the terrace,
I’ll sleep with you beneath the stars
And I’ll unlatch the shoes from your feet,
There is no place upon your small body
I would ever consider too undignified to kiss.
Loneliness has been the dark lens
Coloring your perceptions,
You have left your prayers unspoken
In loveless childhood sanctuaries
Violated by the cruel
Who taught you through violence and abuse
You can only trust yourself.
It is understood, I can’t keep you,
You have no desire for a second husband,
Even the most pleasing lovers can become brutes,
But for now I will romance your mind
And learn to delicately touch your mouth,
And you will remember me later
When we are both lost again in separate jungles.
poem by Uriah Hamilton
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Related quotes
Love Delirium
Joyously we kiss beneath the felicitous blue sky,
And then inside we follow the sensual aroma from scented candles
Drifting from an amorous room; the delicious taste of summer peaches
And slow musical dances create perfect situations for erotic embraces;
I’m alienated today from my formerly dark meditations,
My head is dreamily swimming like an Olympic athlete
Into pools of happiness and warm feminine flesh,
I confess an amazing lust extending from Helen of Troy
To every girl I ever saw as a small school boy,
And the moonlight is a sly conspirator
Falling softly into the eyes I kiss and miss when they depart
With my fragile heart still serenading them
With inarticulate palpitations of desire and love sensations;
When you’re with me next, I’ll unlatch the sexy ankle straps
To your adorable shoes freeing your gorgeous feet
And a magical breathtaking affair will commence.
poem by Uriah Hamilton
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I too, have got shoes
Have you seen shoes on children here
No shoes for other children
No shoes for your children
My uncle said to my dad
I lost my shoes—small shoes
from then on
My feet crushed the thorns
from then on
The city was taken from me
But not me from the city
from then on
Many years later my shoe remover died
And I got back my shoes
Bigger shoes—for crushing thorns
from then on
I cat walked in them
And went to bed in them
from then on
I got the city back
Even when I stayed there
from then on
Believe me I too have got shoes
And I slip my feet in them
But not for sleep anymore
Yes I too have got shoes
Other children wear shoes
My children wear shoes
Wear shoes why not
Why not why not why not why not
Shoes in the cot
Shoes to school
Shoes to the market
Shoes to the office
Why not wear shoes
poem by Moses Kainwo
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Hindu Wedding On A Jasmine Day
The season of JASMINE is blooming.
Wedding is on a day of JASMINE.
The couple are ready for the holy-bond.
Guests are ready with their blessing-band.
Baskets of garlands and stringed JASMINE,
With decorative JASMINE tassles is pleasing.
The fragrance of JASMINE is ambrosial!
Breathtaking! JASMINES' aroma is celestial.
Her long plait padded with JASMINES strung,
Atop with strands of JASMINE being swung,
The bride is given a garland of JASMINE.
Also the 'groom is given a garland of JASMINE.
The family deity is adorned with JASMINE.
The guests are given strands of JASMINE.
The couple garland each other in heck.
The 'groom ties an yellow thread around bride's neck.
The priest makes the groom by seven steps,
Promise to guard his spouse in life's ups.
Splattering holy rice and scenty JASMINE,
All bless 'LONG SMELLY LIKE JASMINE'!
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Surroundings-1
Up The Terrace A Beehive
Cut left dried a vine
Up the terrace the jasmine
A reversed hammock
Canopied bees hive, enjoy
Gale or breeze no mind they swing
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Magic At My House
In the closet there is a pair of shoes
The stay in the box kind of shoes.
The gray leather open toed high heeled shoes.
The fancy night on the town shoes.
The make you taller shoes.
The makeup wearing time shoes.
The too big but a perfect fit shoes.
The magic make you grown up shoes.
In the jewelry box there is a necklace.
The aquamarine and pearl and gold necklace.
The this is older than you or I necklace.
The shiny rainbow making necklace.
The color and feel of the ocean necklace.
The mother’s mother necklace.
The too nice for any day necklace.
The magic make you an elegant lady necklace.
In the bathroom there is a bag.
The painting for ladies bag.
The filled with vials and potions bag.
The put your face on bag.
The make your lips redder bag.
The give you doe eyes bag.
The not in public until your 16 bag.
The magic make you look beautiful bag.
In the bed there is a woman.
The wears the magic shoes woman.
The keeps the magic necklace woman.
The use the magic bag woman.
The lets me put on the shoes woman.
The tells me the story of the necklace woman.
The wipes off the magic of the bag woman.
The magic I want to be just like her woman.
poem by Gabrielle Shutt
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Lost Love
On TV, the weather women I secretly love,
said it was 22 degree Celsius outside and
a beautiful evening. She smiled and winked,
knew I was admiring her.
She left and gave room to world news read
by a man in suit and tie; he read about
disheartening news and an Arab spring that
is turning into a military dictatorship
The weather woman walked home, turned
on the TV and tried to see me, but I was on
the terrace watching the stars and I had, in
my distraction, forgotten her.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Nostalgia
I moved to Delhi in Nineteen Seventy Four
and lived on a ‘barsati ’ floor.
It was safe then to sleep on a summer’s night
on the terrace under the stars and moonlight.
Alas, not anymore!
You have to lock every door,
to keep out the danger that looms
outside your air cooled rooms.
Isn’t it a pity
what life has come to in a city?
No longer can you enjoy
sleeping on a ‘charpoy in the courtyard, balcony or terrace,
because of the rising terrorist menace.
I miss those evenings when after sunset,
we would sprinkle water on the brick floor till it was wet,
getting relief from heat
walking on it bare feet.
and climbing on the bed made of cool white sheets.
Quietly watching the stars and the moon,
and drift into a tranquil sleep soon,
to be woken up by the twitter of the birds in the morn
feeling fresh, renewed, reborn.
Alas, this claustrophobic life is what it has come to be,
in the concrete jungles that are our urban cities.
poem by Mamta Agarwal
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This Room
Your sweet smell of an aroma is all over this room and,
You are the river flowing into my heart;
And like the cocoa from Ivory Coast with a sweet taste,
You are all that i need in this room.
Come and make love to me and,
Let me bear you children;
For your sweet smell of an aroma is all over this room.
This room is made for you and i,
This room will surely take us to the skies!
For you love is the only one needed in this room.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Fire is A Blessing
Fire is a blessing,
For everything hot it rims,
The little flames flicker at church,
While you sing your share of hymns.
Fire that warms your room,
In the numbing chill of the night,
While you drift into a restless sleep,
And dream of soaring kites.The fire on your candles,
The fire on your candles,
For which you do ignite,
They emit such a beautiful smell,
It is truly a lovely sight.
Sometimes we think that fire
Can be shy and be coy,
But if left untended,
it is sure to destroy.
poem by Storm Tyler
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Room For The Life
Hey there, you lady in tears,
Do you think that they care if theyre real, woman?
They just take it as part of the deal.
Lost in your men and the games you play.
Trying to prove that youre better, woman.
But you neednt get heavy with them.
Like it or not, we were built tough,
Because were woman.
No, we never die for long,
While weve got that little life
To live for, where its hid inside.
No, we never die for long,
Oh! woman, two in one,
Theres room for a life in your womb, woman,
Inside of you can be two, woman,
Theres room for a life in your womb, woman,
Mama woman, aha!
Night after night in the quiet house,
Plaiting her hair by the fire, woman,
With no lover to free her desire,
How long do you think she can stick it out?
How long do you think before shell go out, woman?
Hey! get up on your feet and go get it, now.
Like it or not, we keep bouncing back,
Because were woman.
No, we never die for long,
While weve got that little life
To live for, where its hid inside.
Oh! woman, two in one,
Theres room for a life in your womb, woman,
Inside of you can be two, woman,
Theres room for a life in your womb, woman,
Mama woman, aha!
A-mama-woma-mama-woman-aha!
A-mama-woma-mama-woman-aha!
Oh, mama-woman, two-in-a-one, aha!
Oh, two in one, aha!
Oh, woman! woman! woman! woman!
Theres room for a life in your womb!
Theres room for a life in your womb!
Two in one, aha!
Two in one! two in one! two in one!
Room for a life in your womb.
song performed by by Kate Bush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Bed
This is the place where she lay her head
When she went to bed at night
And this is the place our children were conceived
Candles lit the room brightly at night
And this is the place where she cut her wrists
That odd and fateful night
And I said, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, what a feeling
And I said, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, what a feeling
This is the place where we used to live
I paid for it with love and blood
And these are the boxes that she kept on the shelf
Filled with her poetry and stuff
And this is the room where she took the razor
And cut her wrists that strange and fateful night
And I said, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, what a feeling
And I said, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, what a feeling
I never would have started if Id known
That its end this way
But funny thing, Im not at all sad
That it stopped this way
This is the place where she lay her head
When she went to bed at night
And this is the place our children were conceived
Candles lit the room brightly at night
And this is the place where she cut her wrists
That odd and fateful night
And I said, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, what a feeling
And I said, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, what a feeling
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Aroma
The aroma of coffee,
The aroma of cocoa,
The aroma of tea,
Sleep, asleep!
Wake, awake!
Pace, apace!
Bode, abode!
Long, along!
Range, arrange!
Row, arrow!
And of the way things are done,
And of the way love is made;
This psychological problem,
This psychological war! !
But, let us shape this world with the aroma of love.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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The Shoes
The shoes are red
And creamy white on the inside
As pure and beautiful on the inside
As they are vibrating red
On the outside.
She puts her incredibly beautiful feet
In them and begins her practice routine.
The red shoes hug her feet
As if from sheer love,
Glistening, having achieved their purpose.
Plus her feet are beautiful, warm and strong.
I know.
You wouldn't be able to know,
Those shoes looked so gentle and pretty
Just a while ago.
They go with her every move
Seemingly loving every minute of it.
The leather red of her shoes
Is the color of blood
Reflecting and bright, the color of life alive.
So is she
Tall, warm, smiling and full of life.
Many a man has died
Perhaps knowing that she is what he protected,
Or thousands of women just like her.
She knows,
Because she went to battle herself
Right alongside the men that died.
But now she is busy.
Doing what she wants to do,
Her practise in her red patent leather shoes.
She sees me
Observing her.
Her soft, brown and hard eyes smile,
Spreading to her warm and pink lips.
Taller than most women,
Her hair in bangs,
Framing her face.
She finishes her practice routine,
Steps out of her red shoes
And goes into the shower.
I pick up her shoes,
And breathe in
The traces of her persona.
Darling
I still have your red shoes,
And can still breathe in
Some traces of your persona.
Why have you left this warrior
For another?
poem by Lonely People Champion
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My beautiful rose flower
My beautiful rose flower, you look so beautiful, gorgeous and attractive, i don't know how to place you, you make my head go zigzag
people insult you, drag you to the ground, their reason is because they see you as an ordinary flower, to me you are much more precious than diamond, beautiful than the morning dew
Your red color attract various insect
Your pollen grain perfume or aroma is very fantastic to make them bow to eat , the bees bow at your feet, the butterfly bow at your feet, the flies bow at your feet
You feed the multitude of insect which makes you much more charitable and sought after by all
When hunger strike at night, makes me pale, headache knocking persistently on my head, given me no enough room to cry out,
tears running down my cheeks profusely with no stop gap to aid it up
The cloud has becloud their terrible mind full of evil without any restriction you will say
The wickedness of men will continue to hunt them unless they give up their evil plot, evil device they planned for you
My white shirt stained trying to defend you
I will continue to defend and protect you with my last blood against all odds, if i give up the ghost in the process at least i will stand fulfilled on earth, on my honor i will make it come to pass,
ho! my beautiful rose flower
poem by Olayemi Ayo
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Fantasy Temptations
The beautiful colorful flowers I smell
The beautiful green grass I feel
The beautiful sidewalk I walk on
The beautiful clouds I see
The beautiful birds soaring across the sky
Leads through the wondrous doors of Heaven
Because it's fantasy temptations
The fresh air slowly drifts up my nose
Who knew it would be this beautiful
Where has this place been all my life?
I lay under the stars as I fall asleep
Without any worries
I wake to the soft melody of the singing birds
Because it's fantasy temptations
As I drink water from the fountain it tastes pure
As I walk the path it's the Lord
I gracefully smile and say
If only reality was this peaceful
poem by Alisha Ricks
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St. Louis' Apartment
Your love is like a pleasing aroma around me,
And like a pavement made of sapphire;
So burn the meat on the wood with the fire of love!
And come up in the morning to Mount Sinai.
Up there you will meet St. Louis' Apartment with love,
For love and life gathers with the sunshine around me;
And every dawn is like a new life and a blissful day,
But the beautiful signs are always around my bed.
Come to me with the pleasing aroma of love,
For my donkey will not rest like your monkey!
And like the sweet bed of roses to sleep on at last,
For your love is a pleasing aroma around me.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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A Good Woman
Lit candles dimly
The artist portrayed a rotund sky
In little pointed stars and artificial moonlight
I remember seeing through once squinted eyes
The cloudy night steam
Hissing the exhaling day
Sidewalks hold their breath all day in the summer
I confessed the things I’d done under that artificial moon
Insisting convincing
Lord, let nothing take away
I am a good woman
I am a good woman
I am a good woman
This mantra Mary hears
I saw her once
Did I tell you?
Through once squinted eyes
With the cloudy night steam hissing
The street exhaled that day
It was the summer
My bare feet warm under the stars touching the sidewalk
I felt as if I’d held my breath all day
When she stroked my hair and said
You are a good woman
You are a good woman
You are a good woman
Touch tip to candle to flame to pray
To those who have already gone out
A good prayer must be tended
Gone to the shrine
To sit with silence
A very old chapel near a very old river
Sweat on my neck
Absolution-come-unto-me
I am a good woman
I am a good woman
I am a good woman
poem by Alizon Kiel
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A Woman So Beautiful
When she ceased speaking
Beneath the shimmering
Midnight stars,
I saw her eyes
Were as mysterious and bright
As those luminous and sparkling lights.
I try to maintain my composure
When I’m in her presence
And intoxicated by her perfume;
When I approach her room,
My heart is lost
In child-like wonder.
The birth of a thousand poems
Radiates from her delicate face,
A woman so beautiful
I’m afraid to look at her.
poem by Uriah Hamilton
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She Is In Love
she is in love, how can i not notice it?
she wakes up early, goes into her garden
and sings a beautiful song, very early this morning.
she waters her roses, and feeds the chickens.
she cooks breakfast. The eggs are fresh.
The meat well cooked and so tasty.
The coffee smells the aroma of coffee.
What else?
The room is clean, the kitchen so well kept.
My polo shirt is ready, my socks, handkerchief,
my underwear, my shoes, my tie, they're all
placed on bed for me to wear today.
The room smells with perfume
Her favorite, Victoria's secret.
She kisses me twice now, and another one
before i leave.
Life is beautiful, she repeats it again and again.
She stays in the house now. No travels this time.
No loafing with friends.
Tell me that i am conceited.
She is still in love with me. Now on our 12th year of marriage.
I look again at our wedding ring. The tiny diamond there still glitters.
Against the sunlight. Against all the odds.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Nothing Is More Beautiful Than a Woman
The spring flowers ranked distant third,
Because they cannot conceivably smile,
Though they possess a beauteous style.
The peacock, at times, behaves like a nerd,
She cannot sing like Whitney Houston,
She occasionally complains that in Boston,
It is too cold even during springtime,
When the newlyweds start having a good time.
Nothing is more beautiful than a woman,
What came second is a romantic poem,
With a lot of ' Je t'aime, je t'aime'
Which can put to sleep men and children;
A beautiful poem that can lure the siren
Of the sea to come ashore on the hot sand
To find love, a light breeze, where the band
Serenades beachgoers wearing tight bikinis.
Oh! God, I feel so good when I sneeze.
Nothing is more beautiful than a woman.
Oh! Lord, all women are exceptionally wonderful,
Even when they frown, when they want to play evil,
Or when man like me leaves his shoes in the den,
After being told, scorned and warned countless times,
(Not to do that, there is a place for everything
And everything has a place in the building) .
Oh! That's my way of ringing their chimes;
Natheless, I find all women absolutely divine,
Especially, after having a few glasses of wine.
poem by Hebert Logerie (March 2012)
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