The Corner Stone
Sterile these stones
By time in ruin laid.
Yet many a creeping thing
Its haven has made
In these least crannies, where falls
Dark's dew, and noonday shade.
The claw of the tender bird
Finds lodgment here;
Dye-winged butterflies poise;
Emmet and beetle steer
Their busy course; the bee
Drones, laden, near.
Their myriad-mirrored eyes
Great day reflect.
By their exquisite farings
Is this granite specked;
Is trodden to infinite dust;
By gnawing lichens decked.
Toward what eventual dream
Sleeps its cold on,
When into ultimate dark
These lives shall be gone,
And even of man not a shadow remain
Of all he has done?
poem by Walter de la Mare
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Shade and Shadow Dark and Night
Shade and Shadow
Dark and Night
Demons move
Beyond your sight
Moving slow
Cross the ground
Never do they make a sound
Shade and Shadow
Dark and Night
A murder has
Taken to flight
Stirring up the
Cold dead air
Does it matter?
Do you care?
Shade and Shadow
Dark and Night
Thoughts fill your mind
You think you might
These toughts they
Circle in your head
More and more you
Wish your dead
Shade and Shadow
Dark and Night
Capitulate
Give up the fight
It's too much effort
To go on
You're going
Going going gone
poem by Anonymous Ghurl
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Reflects The Soul
Your eyes are like a mirror
that reflects your soul.
Some eyes are dark as cobalt
and reflect the deed they do.
Others are a shade of gold
reflect a heart that cares.
While others reflect great sadness
from ill treatment somewhere.
Whatever colour are your eyes
it is not the colour of your soul.
Some people with dark eyes
as jet black as the night.
Hold the gentlest touch
when it comes to others of mankind.
The colour of your eyes
is never an indication to your soul.
It is only passed the colour
does that reflect the soul.
17 January 2008
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Dream
Once a dream did weave a shade
O’er my Angel-guarded bed,
That an emmet lost its way
Where on grass methought I lay.
Troubled, 'wilder'd, and forlorn,
Dark, benighted, travel-worn,
Over many a tangled spray,
All heart-broke I heard her say:
‘O, my children! do they cry?
Do they hear their father sigh?
Now they look abroad to see:
Now return and weep for me.’
Pitying, I dropp'd a tear;
But I saw a glow-worm near,
Who replied: ‘What wailing wight
Calls the watchman of the night?
‘I am set to light the ground,
While the beetle goes his round:
Follow now the beetle’s hum;
Little wanderer, hie thee home.’
poem by William Blake from Songs of Innocence (1789)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Oh! Breathe Not His Name
Oh! breathe not his name, let it sleep in the shade,
Where cold and unhonour'd his relics are laid:
Sad, silent, and dark, be the tears that we shed,
As the night-dew that falls on the grass o'er his head.
But the night-dew that falls, though in silence it weeps,
Shall brighten with verdure the grave where he sleeps;
And the tear that we shed, though in secret it rolls,
Shall long keep his memory green in our souls.
poem by Thomas Moore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Whistling In The Dark
A woman came up to me and said
Id like to poison your mind
With wrong ideas that appeal to you
Though I am not unkind
She looked at me, I looked at something
Written across her scalp
And these are the words that it faintly said
As I tried to call for help:
Theres only one thing that I know how to do well
And Ive often been told that you only can do
What you know how to do well
And thats be you,
Be what youre like,
Be like yourself,
And so Im having a wonderful time
But Id rather be whistling in the dark
Whistling in the dark
Whistling in the dark
Whistling in the dark
Whistling in the dark
Whistling in the dark
Theres only one thing that I like
And that is whistling in the dark
A man came up to me and said
Id like to change your mind
By hitting it with a rock, he said,
Though I am not unkind.
We laughed at his little joke
And then I happily walked away
And hit my head on the wall of the jail
Where the two of us live today.
Theres only one thing that I know how to do well
And Ive often been told that you only can do
What you know how to do well
And thats be you,
Be what youre like,
Be like yourself,
And so Im having a wonderful time
But Id rather be whistling in the dark
Whistling in the dark
Whistling in the dark
Whistling in the dark
Whistling in the dark
Whistling in the dark
Theres only one thing that I like
And that is whistling in the dark
Theres only one thing that I know how to do well
And Ive often been told that you only can do
What you know how to do well
And thats be you,
Be what youre like,
Be like yourself,
And so Im having a wonderful time
But Id rather be whistling in the dark
Whistling in the dark
Whistling in the dark
Whistling in the dark
Whistling in the dark
Whistling in the dark
Whistling, whistling
Whistling in the dark
Whistling (whistling), whistling (whistling)
Dark (dark), dark (dark)
Whistling (whistling), whistling (whistling)
Dark (dark), dark (dark)
Whistling (whistling), whistling (whistling)
Dark (dark), dark (dark)
Whistling (whistling), whistling (whistling)
Dark (dark), dark (dark)
Whistling (whistling), whistling (whistling)
Dark (dark), dark (dark)
Whistling (whistling), whistling (whistling)
Dark (dark), dark (dark)
Whistling (whistling), whistling (whistling)
Dark (dark), dark (dark)
Whistling (whistling), whistling (whistling)
Dark (dark), dark (dark)
Whistling (whistling), whistling (whistling)
Dark (dark), dark (dark)
Whistling (whistling), whistling (whistling)
Dark (dark), dark (dark)
Whistling (whistling), whistling (whistling)
Dark (dark), dark (dark)
Whistling (whistling), whistling (whistling)
Dark (dark), dark (dark)
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Black Cars
Under the cover of night
She crawls into sight
Her skin is cold china white
Shes a dark angel wearing dark glasses
Dark shadows under long false lashes
The night exposes the cracks
She wears her makeup like wax
To hide every scratch
cause she a dark angel riding dark horses
Sitting pretty in her dim lit covers ... I say
Black cars look better in the shade
She smears her lipstick on right before she sleeps
For all those phantom lovers in her dreams
She smokes them french cigarettes
In cocktail gloves and a strapless dress
She cuts a perfect silhouette
But shes a dark angel wearing dark glasses
A fading beauty as the night time passes ... I say
Black cars look better in the shade
Black cars look better in the shade
song performed by by Gino Vanelli
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You, the Dark
Dark, She is the mind of yours.
Icy chill of thought becomes
A steely shimmer.
Behold a glimmer in the black -
A flash of grey, that even glows
In show against the hallowed dark of you.
And that is why you scream in jarring tones
'I have no heart for joy!
My white and brittle bones have died'
You cried in dark and fractured moans.
So now the Queen of Black you writhe,
Whence from dark of shade
That honed an evil form afar;
In curse of me you bade:
'I, the wave shall rape the shore!
Violence will there be in glares I'll throw
At all who prey, and more:
A dark and fetid sea I'll bleed.'
And now, the bitter tinge
And bleak of waste
That eyed the death of once your soul
Will here forever be!
Indeed you tell:
'The cramping pain is here!
Eternal spasm, infinite chasm,
The Devil's chaplain plays!
We'll climax in a tortured glee
As all my love decays.'
Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009
Dark dark dark dark dark dark dark
Dark dark dark dark dark dark
Dark dark dark dark dark
Dark dark dark dark
Dark dark dark
Dark dark dark dark dark
dark dark dark dark dark dark dark darkdarkdarkdark
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Small Things Bother Me
He wore dark glasses I could not see his eyes
And the mirror to his soul he did disguise
He hid from the World his personality
Without the eyes a face you only see.
Perhaps his eyes from the bright sun he shade
The main reason why dark glasses are made
And though he lives nearby him I shall never get to know
As he wears dark glasses rain or sun shine or snow.
Any acknowledgement of me he never seems to show
And we pass each other by without saying hello
Through his dark glasses into my soul he peer
And he's still a stranger though to me he lives near.
Perhaps I'm small in ways and small things get to me
But it bothers me when others eyes I cannot see
Whether their eyes be blue, brown, green or grey who can say
As the mirror to their soul behind dark glasses hidden away.
I see him often though not every day
And his eyes behind dark glasses always hidden away
The mirror of his soul is well hidden from me,
Perhaps I'm small and small things bother me.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Give Dark Meaning
then I'm the shadow
that gives the dark meaning
I'm the shadow hiding
while people are dreaming
I'm still a shadow in the dark
like cold icy breath
I'm still a shadow in the dark
constantly hiding in death
even if I give meaning to the dark
I'm the bite in a dogs bark
I'm nothing good I'm just black
and I will never come back
poem by No Reason To Care
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I'm A Shadow In The Dark
I am a shadow
in the dark
the evil sound in the night
I'm a shadow in the dark
but still it always feels so right
I'm constantly over looked
my brain is fried
my heart cooked
I'm a heart
that will never beat
I'm the one person
no one has to meet
I'm the cold
the dark
the light
I am a shadow in the dark
just give it up
you've lost the fight
poem by No Reason To Care
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Praise of Dust
'What of vile dust?' the preacher said.
Methought the whole world woke,
The dead stone lived beneath my foot,
And my whole body spoke.
'You, that play tyrant to the dust,
And stamp its wrinkled face,
This patient star that flings you not
Far into homeless space.
'Come down out of your dusty shrine
The living dust to see,
The flowers that at your sermon's end
Stand blazing silently.
'Rich white and blood-red blossom; stones,
Lichens like fire encrust;
A gleam of blue, a glare of gold,
The vision of the dust.
'Pass them all by: till, as you come
Where, at a city's edge,
Under a tree-I know it well-
Under a lattice ledge,
'The sunshine falls on one brown head.
You, too, O cold of clay,
Eater of stones, may haply hear
The trumpets of that day
'When God to all his paladins
By his own splendour swore
To make a fairer face than heaven,
Of dust and nothing more.'
poem by Gilbert Keith Chesterton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Praise of Dust
'What of vile dust?' the preacher said.
Methought the whole world woke,
The dead stone lived beneath my foot,
And my whole body spoke.
'You, that play tyrant to the dust,
And stamp its wrinkled face,
This patient star that flings you not
Far into homeless space.
'Come down out of your dusty shrine
The living dust to see,
The flowers that at your sermon's end
Stand blazing silently.
'Rich white and blood-red blossom; stones,
Lichens like fire encrust;
A gleam of blue, a glare of gold,
The vision of the dust.
'Pass them all by: till, as you come
Where, at a city's edge,
Under a tree - I know it well -
Under a lattice ledge,
'The sunshine falls on one brown head.
You, too, O cold of clay,
Eater of stones, may haply hear
The trumpets of that day
'When God to all his paladins
By his own splendour swore
To make a fairer face than heaven,
Of dust and nothing more.'
poem by G.K. Chesterton from The Wild Knight and Other Poems (1900)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Zen Archer
Pretty bird with feathers falling
Pretty as a lady calling
For her pink and midnight lover
As she stares into the water
And a yellow moon is rising
And there can't be no disguising
That the pretty bird is dying
With a silver arrow lying at its side
Rivers of blood,
Oceans of tears,
Life without death,
And death without reason
To the whole united nations,
To your greatest expectations
To the moment that you realize
As a dark figure slips from out of the shadow
Pretty bird closes its eyes, pretty bird dies
Another pretty thing dead on the end of the shaft
Of the zen archer
A man in parts forgotten
With an outlook that is rotten
And an attitude to match it
Finds relief inside a hatchet
And he halved someone in boulder
Justifiability is in the hands of the beholder
And you just don't know what people will do next
Mountains of pain,
Valleys of love,
Death without life,
And life without meaning
To the promise kept and broken
To the love that's never spoken
Just as surely as i'm in your ears
A dark figure slips from out of the shadow
song performed by by Todd Rundgren
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Zen Archer
Pretty bird with feathers falling
Pretty as a lady calling
For her pink and midnight lover
As she stares into the water
And a yellow moon is rising
And there can't be no disguising
That the pretty bird is dying
With a silver arrow lying at its side
Rivers of blood,
Oceans of tears,
Life without death,
And death without reason
To the whole united nations,
To your greatest expectations
To the moment that you realize
As a dark figure slips from out of the shadow
Pretty bird closes its eyes, pretty bird dies
Another pretty thing dead on the end of the shaft
Of the zen archer
A man in parts forgotten
With an outlook that is rotten
And an attitude to match it
Finds relief inside a hatchet
And he halved someone in boulder
Justifiability is in the hands of the beholder
And you just don't know what people will do next
Mountains of pain,
Valleys of love,
Death without life,
And life without meaning
To the promise kept and broken
To the love that's never spoken
Just as surely as i'm in your ears
A dark figure slips from out of the shadow
song performed by by Todd Rundgren
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Krishnakali
In the village they call her the dark girl
but to me she is the flower Krishnakali
On a cloudy day in a field
I saw the dark girl's dark gazelle-eyes.
She had no covering on her head,
her loose hair had fallen on her back.
Dark? However dark she be,
I have seen her dark gazelleeyes.
Two black cows were lowing,
as it grew dark under the heavy clouds.
So with anxious, hurried steps,
the dark girl came from her hut.
Raising her eyebrows toward the sky,
she listened a moment to the clouds' rumble.
Dark? However dark she be,
I have seen her dark gazelle-eyes.
A gust of the east wind
rippled the rice plants.
I was standing by a ridge,
alone in the field.
Whether or not she looked at me
Is known only to us two.
Dark? However dark she be,
I have seen her dark gazelle-eyes.
This how the Kohldark cloud
rises in the northeast in Jaistha;
the soft dark shadow
descends on the Tamal grove in Asharh;
and sudden delight floods the heart
in the night of Sravan.
Dark? However dark she be,
I have seen her dark gazelle-eyes.
To me she is the flower Krishnakali,
whatever she may be called by others.
In a field in Maynapara village
I saw the dark girl's dark gazelle-eyes.
She did not cover her head,
not having the time to feel embarrassed.
Dark? However dark she be,
I have seen her dark gazelle-eyes.
poem by Rabindranath Tagore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Shot In The Dark
Out on the street Im stalking the night
I can hear my heavy breathing
Paid for the kill but it doesnt seem right
Something there I cant believe in
Voices are calling from inside my head
I can hear them I can hear them
Vanishing memories of things that were said
They cant try to hurt me now
But a shot in the dark one step away from you
A shot in the dark always creeping up on you
Taught by the powers that preach over me
I can hear their empty reason
I wouldnt listen I learnt how to fight
I opened up my mind to treason
But just like the wounded and when its too late
Theyll remember theyll surrender
Never a care for that people who hate
Underestimate me now
But a shot in the dark one step away from you
A shot in the dark not a thing that you can do
A shot in the dark always creeping up on you
But just like the wounded and when its too late
Theyll remember theyll surrender
Never a care for the people who hate
Underestimate me now
But a shot in the dark one step away from you
A shot in the dark not a thing that you can do
A shot in the dark always creeping up on you
song performed by by Ozzy Osbourne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Oh! Lisa With These Lovely Eyes
Lisa with the dark brown eyes
So please tell my soul to sympathize,
We shall cry forever in overcast skies
Lisa with the dark brown eyes,
Lisa with the dark brown eyes
Heartbroken heart spoken, not taken back
To change a mind so is lifes dream
Lisa with the dark brown eyed
Lisa with the dark brown eyes
That blends your butter scotch face insight
Smiles which brings sparkles to my mind
Lisa with the dark brown eyes
Lisa with the dark brown eyes
Many pre thoughts of your strays hypnotize
French, African, English culture dies
Lisa with the dark brown eyes
Lisa with the dark brown eyes
She dabbles her life in fiction trash
her soul with curious follies
Lisa with the dark brown eyes
Lisa with the dark brown eyes
Loneliness, has come far a sad. sad day
Emptiness in your mind and heart pay
Lisa with the dark brown eyes
Lisa with the dark, dark, brown eyes
You walk the world in beauty forgotten
They speak about you something forbidden
Lisa with the dark, dark, brown eyes
Lisa with the dark, dark, brown eyes
Your body your mind so whole same so
Your gave birth and I wish I could understand, understand
Lisa with the dark dark raven eyes
Lisa with the dark dark brown eyes
Curiosity is so special time flies, my sighs
Persuaded a fool to be wise, so wise how wise
Lisa with the dark dark brown eyes.
poem by Klayne Mario Burton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Lullaby (Song)
Close your eyes
Go to sleep.
Find your soul
In arms I'll keep
Dream you Little dark Dream
In your eyes
There's a glow
See your dreams
Now you know
Dream you Little dark Dreams
See your dreams
Come alive
Watch them dance
Through your eyes
Dream you Little dark Dreams
Coming now into eternal
Slumber, Sleep your Life's infernal
Lies called dreams within our sorrow
Never waking for tomorrow
Bow your head
Lay on down
Wipe your tears
Do not frown
Dream Dream Dream Dream Dream Dream
Dream you Little dark Dreams
Tonight.
poem by Sans Serif
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Christian Burial
We cross the resilient lawn,
stepping over flat stones,
engraved names, lives
encapsulated.
Under the corrugated tent
on green folding chairs
we pause
as his bronze casket gleams
golden in the shade,
you faithfully standing
by his side on this
burial day.
Touching the cold metal
one last time,
I peer down
to a new
deeper place
and see how sharp angles,
hard, cold walls rise from
the dark concrete floor.
Like Lazarus he will wait
under the tomb’s heavy door
for Christ the Lord
to call him forth
and at last free him
from death’s dark ties,
raise him high
into the living Easter light.
poem by Steven Federle
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dark Servant
I wish the moonlight away
In the dark with thee I wish to play
Like stars in the dark night
None shall see we for many years
Behind many tears
We will be out of sight
In the dark our truth see
In the dark where souls be
In the dark love laden
The dark shy sweet maiden..
Her poetic fervent
my dark servant
my poetry
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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