Hymn To Black Mouse
in praise of cold
beauty which cares
not whether one
suffers, cares not
that the mouse may
suffer, and the dove,
that the mouse,
objectively,
its black fur,
is magnificence
very soft, it
appears without
shine as does the
ice shine in
severest beauty
sear (now I know
the flash sure was
that of a tail, is
neither light nor
shadow, nor is an
occasion for blindness
as is the snow
or silence)
poem by Warren Falcon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Instead Of You Today One Black Mouse
Instead of you today
one black mouse.
It arrives the first
day of your departure.
It catches the corner
of my eye, my blood eye,
as you call it, and I
think at first that this
is only sunlight reflecting
from a window being closed
across the street but
my beating heart, faster,
holding my breath, tells
me it is a mouse that
precedes its smell in
the house, that is, if
it takes up residence,
and the curtains remain
permanently closed.
I do nothing but note
all this as briefly as
the flash, then return
to my grieving.
*
I see it true,
a mouse true, as
was and is the
affection I felt
and feel for you
but I do not want
to make this a
love poem unless
it is to a black
mouse claiming
vacated space
*
You must leave now,
black mouse of sorrow,
now formally named,
take up in another
residence. Do not
borrow my things,
do not move them
with your tail or tongue
or teeth on the table
top or underneath,
nor in the corner
play hide and seek
where I have once
again dropped the
blue accident of love,
he who has left how
he arrived, brown,
beautiful, smelling of
Indian spice, of rose
oil with herbs,
his long black hair,
his silken pockets
full of childhood
prayer carefully
wrapped for safe-
keeping against
the day of his glad-
marry..
Upon the altar then
do not, I plead, sleep
cradled in the god's arms
nor push my thinning
patience where the votive
candle burns for him whom
you seek to replace with
your delicate whiskers
and all your black fur
with webs upon of the one
spider who dwells behind
the jewel box, his gift
for me, his leaving, here
cling/brush against all
things in this dark place
now but do not let me
see it here where it is
I-not-he who is erased.
Is it your wish, then,
to bless me, black mouse?
to keep me company?
*
Today I suffer my
annual asthma of
the New Year only
it has arrived hard,
a little late, but
always sudden but
no surprise as you
have left me at the
same time as the
on-time lessening
of lungs down presses.
The mouse arrives to
remind that I am as
the remote air is,
rarefied, heavily alive,
that hunger grows in each
floret of the lungs
no matter the absence.
Or, no matter the absence,
there may always be an
apparent flash of light
from a near window
closing and opening,
little breaths beseeching
unseen hands, or hand,
striving for first or
second or third person
though there are only
one or two hands at
most and only one window
so far as I can see through
a curtain closed.
Mouse makes three.
*
This morning I open
the curtain which has
been closed since the
day before you flew away.
You had announced your
intention to leave the
first day we met, your
arrival with snow in
your eyes and nose. I
could only laugh, delight
really, at how you trembled
so cold, cold, and beautiful,
did I say already, how brown?
and allowed me to hold both
your hands beneath my shirt
to warm them. They were so
very cold, like late plums,
their outline even now perimeters
my skin, a tree grows there where/
which I proudly hold emboldened
to say, great, great, with
your sometimes mildness,
your sometimes wildness
now grown up, now flown.
*
But what I want to
report to you-not-here,
for the record, to be
read out into the snow
that has begun to fall
silently in the gutter,
is that I opened the
morning curtain and there
on the metal escape sat,
and still sits, a dove,
brown, beautiful, which
does not move at all,
when the curtains made
to move, and the day
rushes in without consent.
It, not the daylight
but the dove, just to
be very clear, cocks
only its head toward
movement and calmly
(I have successfully
resisted writing 'moves
and calamity')
sits shaped
like one pure tear.
Or pear. Both of which
share an 'ear'.
Suddenly, joy in me
flashes and I know the
dove for me has come.
And the mouse.
*
And so in spite of
barricades in doorways
seeking to prevent your
entrance fully into
my study, I allow you
to let yourself out
that door just as you
came in where/which-
ever it is that allows
you entrance without
wind or grain, no offering
of any kind to announce
yourself upon the premises,
a flash mistaken for
light of which/whose
image does not diminish
in portent or muse.
*
I sit now watching
the dove watch the
street below, the sky
above the tenements.
It does not shut its
eyes to flakes which
somehow do not in fall
though I recall now
how they manage to
find mine, even now
they beat upon the
glass trying to enter
eyes intent upon watching
the scene unfold upon
the page and within the
eyes of the Dove of Ages,
see what a thing it is
now already become
since childhood and
the backyard forest
sparkling, every surface
of everything covered
with ice clear, a sheer
skin which seems/seams to
move as I am moved/returned
in response to impertinent
snow to let more new world
come flashing in, and the
one-more-bird, a startle,
a cardinal red against all
the white, white, there were
many, coveys of them inordinate
in all the snow blind, too
much for a boy to bear, broken
eye-nerves, brittle sticks,
he kicks on his back crying
to make an angel his own to
be relieved of the too ordered
world, would be the unwanted,
unexpected child of things
shattered, his need for
constancy and same, beauty
a necessary addiction dependent
upon diction's canary eye and ear,
just to introduce another color
between mouse and meaning,
a chorus stunned into sound.
*
Here I now sing this
lament for the one who
has brownly flown.
And for the one who/that
has brownly perched so
still, still, on the metal
cold, a rust color, allowing
each flake its compulsion to
touch upon eye and rust.
And for black mouse who has
given much to me, an image,
to see of my sorrow a flash
of what, insistent, gnaws at
what now sits in me-the-escape,
in me-the-study with old friends
so constant, books and papers,
notebooks of many years' mice
and birds, the too few lovers,
waiting to see if the present
mouse is still within or has,
too, taken a flown lover's fresh
cue brownly and from the house
removed, without.
*
I must add here,
in praise of cold
beauty which cares
not whether one
suffers, cares not
that the mouse may
suffer, and the dove,
that the mouse,
objectively,
its black fur,
is magnificence
very soft, it
appears without
shine as does the
ice shine in
severest beauty,
sear (now I know
the flash sure was
that of a tail, is
neither light nor
shadow, nor is an
occasion for blindness
as is the snow
or silence) .
*
It matters now
that I record this
in wet black ink
with an old quill
for the record
though the ink's
blackness, India ink,
ironically, and the
wet shine, are your
eyes which once again
are like the mouse,
though I do not wish
to compare them as
if you and the mouse
are the same like
someone's 'love is
a summer day' or 'a red,
red rose, ' snow up your
nose not withstanding,
for it, the day, the
eyes, yours, my house,
is now not to be mine
alone deposed before
the harsher winter,
nor is my heart to be
ever compared though
it wearies me to speak
of heart and love in the
same breath's poem which
does not, asthmatic, conform
to received form or line or
convention and tone as does,
say, a black mouse, just to
compare, conform to its own
convention, or shape swift
constancy and need, insistent,
unthought with not a care or
mind for, well,
(the better) ,
with no mind at
all (to speak of it
again) :
The dove perhaps
on the window is
*
without...
The song is sung
or flinging itself
outwith from above
as snow, the musical
bar is the cold grate
the page upon which
the one true music
note rests, may,
singing silently
itself into itself
singing the world,
even this of the
mouse, your absent
eyes here, about,
my passivity against
the rhythms of chest
ice-rimed (cannot
write the heart again)
adding gutter music
drops, the bells drip
ringing there as you
have/were a bell or
bell-like announcing
the end at the beginning
descanting;
it feels, though I was forewarned,
slipped swiftly away taking-with
a number of days and all my nights,
the wet black ink
winks upon the page
and the song is
instead of you today
one black mouse.
poem by Warren Falcon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Round The Corner
The mouse run 'round the corner
The mouse run 'round the corner
a mouse ran 'round the corner
an' straight off down the hall.
Pretty much dun all over
pretty much dun all over
pretty much dun all over
by the light of day, she run.
Her putty tail aflying
a putty tail aflyin'
her putty tail aflying
dividin' the hurryscurry air.
She vanish in the floor shine
he vanish in the floor shine
they vanish in the floor shine
and into the puddle sun.
We laugh all day Black Friday
we laugh all day Black Friday
we laugh all day Black Friday
and all the day before.
And all the day before, now
and all the day before, now
and all the day before, at how
folk will flock to sales.
The mouse run 'round the corner
the mouse run 'round the corner
a mouse ran 'round the corner
and straight off up the hall.
poem by Morgan Michaels
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Who Cares?
Tell me, jesus,
Are you angry?
One more sheep has,
Just gone astray
A hardening of hearts,
Turning to stone
Wandering off,
So far from home
So many children,
Losing time
Walk in darkness,
Looking for a sign
Chasing their rainbows,
The future looks so bright
Slowly were losing,
Sight of the light
Who cares?
Who cares?
Who cares?
Tell me who cares?
Who cares?
All alone,
Out in the cold
Cant look back,
Am I growing old
I chose a path,
Is this my fate
Am I finding out,
The truth too late
Chorus
Here I am,
A naked man
Nothing to hide
With empty hands
Remember me,
I am the one
Who lost his way,
Your prodigal son
Who cares?
Who cares?
Who cares?
Tell me who cares?
Who cares?
Am I ever gonna change
Will I always stay the same
Say one thing
Then I do the other
Same old song
Goes on forever
Rise, rise n shine
A new day is coming
Yes it is!
song performed by by Extreme
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Part Iii: Who Cares?
Tell me, jesus,
Are you angry?
One more sheep has,
Just gone astray
A hardening of hearts,
Turning to stone
Wandering off,
So far from home
So many children,
Losing time
Walk in darkness,
Looking for a sign
Chasing their rainbows,
The future looks so bright
Slowly were losing,
Sight of the light
Who cares?
Who cares?
Who cares?
Tell me who cares?
Who cares?
All alone,
Out in the cold
Cant look back,
Am I growing old
I chose a path,
Is this my fate
Am I finding out,
The truth too late
Chorus
Here I am,
A naked man
Nothing to hide
With empty hands
Remember me,
I am the one
Who lost his way,
Your prodigal son
Who cares?
Who cares?
Who cares?
Tell me who cares?
Who cares?
Am I ever gonna change
Will I always stay the same
Say one thing
Then I do the other
Same old song
Goes on forever
Rise, rise n shine
A new day is coming
Yes it is!
song performed by by Extreme
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Modest Mouse
To the modest mouse,
Whose home, remotely shrouded
With the clutters of the cat's fallen eyesight,
Filled with such vitriol that none could grasp with coarse palms
And the cat, in her abode
Flourishing with jewels that glint like her devotion
To the pleasurable amenities of beauty and splendor
Why, have the heavens lost such bountiful ardor?
The lynx, the beau of indifference, forsaken with lips of crimson red,
Embedded with jewelry in a variation of halycon, sapphire, zircon
Inquisitive mouse, 'You glint so much, you fade in the light.'
Cat quips, irate with claws razor sharp, 'I beg your pardon? '
Oh, such absence of complications
As he prances across the wood, with reflux of blood in his tail,
Only exhibiting a weary face, of tombstone pale;
The cat walks eloquently, only embellishing what pride she has
Walking on thin, rusting wires with such prowess,
The modest mouse, puzzled, bewildered by such striding,
Resembling a hurricane, whose tempestuous whirling hurls edges that lacerate,
'There is no need to act like this! ' the mouse, judgment in surfeit
With such strife, arrogant like a lion,
The cat moves in sync with celestial aeons
With her whiskers, beaming towards the horizon,
None of this, the modest mouse could ever fathom
The modest mouse's confusion, 'Why pounce in such exuberant poise? '
Untoward feline's retalitation, 'Insecurity is a blight.' with such metallic alloy
The modest mouse, was not precarious, his eyes were too good for decoys
The cat's carnal eyes luster with so much flamboyance.
The modest mouse, in pure content, seeing his pale color of gray,
'You are charcoal gray, you should revel.' He told himself humbly.
And subtly, with silent distinctions, the cat stood behind the modest mouse,
With a condescending smirk in her face, for she is adorned in a multitude of colors.
'You seem to shine, like the rainbow! ' Oh, such humility this mouse beholds
The humility that withstands the fiery Summer, and the winter cold.
'I am, more than the rainbow.' Of this you see, the feral audacity?
With such depth, does she serenade herself incessantly.
'Your tail is horrendous! ' Said the cat, waving her emerald tail
Comparatively seeing, careening over her distinctions, the arrogance is ubiquitous.
Thus, the modest mouse cannot be stopped, he stood presumptuously,
Assuming a stance on all fours, with a face as meek as a lily.
The days metamorphosed into grueling centuries,
Withering the cat, stripping her of vanities,
With such disdain, the cat uttered, 'Why do I resemble you! '
And the mouse has spoken valiantly, 'Your vanity has altered your hue.'
The cat, vilified with the statement
Quivering at the mere sight of her shabby self,
The modest mouse stood behind her, nonchalantly,
'See, without vanity, there's is such ample beauty.'
poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Missing
Has anybody seen my mouse?
I opened his box for half a minute,
Just to make sure he was really in it,
And while I was looking, he jumped outside!
I tried to catch him, I tried, I tried....
I think he's somewhere about the house.
Has anyone seen my mouse?
Uncle John, have you seen my mouse?
Just a small sort of mouse, a dear little brown one,
He came from the country, he wasn't a town one,
So he'll feel all lonely in a London street;
Why, what could he possibly find to eat?
He must be somewhere. I'll ask Aunt Rose:
Have you seen a mouse with a woffelly nose?
He's just got out...
Hasn't anybody seen my mouse?
poem by Alan Alexander Milne
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Josephina
Josephina, theres so much I want to know
Ive known you for all of mine
But not all of yours
Youre not a stranger
No, nothing could be further
I look back and I wonder
What you were like, long before
Josephina, if I asked you, would you tell me?
The fact from the fancy
And the dreams in between
Tell me a story
All about yours truly
Photographs from the past
Imagine the mystery
Didja get your head lost in a daydream?
Cinderella, waiting for her charming
Did ya break a heart, like little girls often do?
Pigtails and painted toes
All dressed up in your mothers clothes
Can you shine the light?
Ah, can you shine the light?
Oh, please can you shine some light?
Yeah, can you shine the light?
Shine the light on a shadow
Josephina, would you lay down your defenses?
So I can make sense of
Those colors fading to grey
Its not that youre hiding
Something, Id never imply
Yesteryear I may be gone
Cant say the same for today
Yeah, josephina!
Ah, josephina!
How else am I to know, that all the while
There was a mischievous look, behind that smile?
Its hard to tell, when innocence comes and goes
Im sure that there were times, life could be unkind
Without a shoulder to cry on
Can you shine the light?
Ah, can you shine the light?
Yeah, please can you shine some light?
Yeah, can you shine the light?
Yeah, can you shine the light?
Shine the light on a shadow
(ah-ah-ah)
(ah-ah-ah)
(ah-ah-ah)
song performed by by Van Halen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Black Mouse Makes The World
Black mouse makes
the world
without frames
reaching through
shows empty hands
to each and the sky
confusing sky for
hands clinched in
tight yellow too much
feeling nothing green
is about to happen
or teach
clouds
hands
what do either
care drifting
beyond the
moon
the fiddler plays on
a tune about rain/leaves
in patterns upon
an apron
of rain
rabbit dances with-
out caution knowing
what holes to avoid
cuts loose
awash in blue
holes being of a
royal hue
a silver net
trap set inches
from soft pink
clueless paws pattering
musical notes of
lavender wash
kick up from
blind delight -
just dust clouds
before a fall
the bearded stranger
(red hangs the sweep
of his chin)
hangs back
in cobalt shadow
does not notice
so busy looking
for giants
Black Mouse
Black Mouse laughs
writes with its tail
something
just something
poem by Warren Falcon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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a mouse teaches Diogenes
You see Diogenes living in the slums. He lives in a barrel. This is the man even Alexander the Great admires. So it makes you wonder about Diogenes.
So you pretend to be there quite by accident and you ask: “Diogenes…Who was your teacher? ”
“A mouse was my teacher, ” says Diogenes.
You are quite confused. And you say: 'A mouse is your teacher? And how is that, Diogenes? '
“Well, most exquisite Sir, ” says Diogenes to you. “Most cultured Sir, ” he says. “I had no home and I was in the streets. I almost killed myself. Then I saw mouse. Mouse ran around and looked for food and it found some and I observed mouse for over two days. And I realized how resourceful mouse was. And then I said to myself: ‘Learn of the mouse, Diogenes- and all will be well.’ And so I learned of mouse. And every time I have a problem, I simply ask myself: ‘How will mouse solve this? ’ And so mouse became my teacher. And now, most Exquisite Sir, I have a problem. You. I want to get rid of you and I ask myself: ‘How would mouse solve this problem? ’ He would bite…”
You listen to this and you are afraid – and you run. And Diogenes has done well; he has learned well from his teacher. And you can hear him shouting to you: “By the way, who was your teacher? ”
poem by Raj Arumugam
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... & The Mouse Police Never Sleeps
Muscled, black with steel-green eye
Swishing through the rye grass
With thoughts of mouse-and-apple pie.
Tail balancing at half-mast.
...and the mouse police never sleeps ---
Lying in the cherry tree.
Savage bed foot-warmer of purest feline ancestry.
Look out, little furry folk!
Hes the all-night working cat.
Eats but one in every ten ---
Leaves the others on the mat.
...and the mouse police never sleeps ---
Waiting by the cellar door.
Window-box town crier;
Birth and death registrar.
With claws that rake a furrow red ---
Licensed to multilate.
From warm milk on a lazy day
To dawn patrol on hungry hate.
...no, the mouse police never sleeps ---
Climbing on the ivy.
Windy roof-top weathercock.
Warm-blooded night on a cold tile.
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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...and The Mouse Police Never Sleeps
Muscled, black with steel-green eye
Swishing through the rye grass
With thoughts of mouse-and-apple pie.
Tail balancing at half-mast.
...and the mouse police never sleeps ---
Lying in the cherry tree.
Savage bed foot-warmer of purest feline ancestry.
Look out, little furry folk!
He's the all-night working cat.
Eats but one in every ten ---
Leaves the others on the mat.
...and the mouse police never sleeps ---
Waiting by the cellar door.
Window-box town crier;
Birth and death registrar.
With claws that rake a furrow red ---
Licensed to multilate.
From warm milk on a lazy day
To dawn patrol on hungry hate.
...no, the mouse police never sleeps ---
Climbing on the ivy.
Windy roof-top weathercock.
Warm-blooded night on a cold tile.
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Beauty Is Upon You
Beauty is upon you like the rose without a thorn.
Beauty is upon you like the dew on grass each morn.
Beauty is upon you like the sapphire shining sea.
Beauty is upon you like the apple on the tree.
Beauty is upon you like the sunshine on the Earth.
Beauty is upon you like the day God granted birth.
Beauty is upon you like the wings on butterflies.
Beauty is upon you like the grace that God supplies.
Beauty is upon you like the diamond wedding ring.
Beauty is upon you like the season known as Spring.
Beauty is upon you like the little lambs that play.
Beauty is upon you like the snow on Christmas Day.
Beauty is upon you like the rainbows up above.
Beauty is upon you like the sentimental dove.
Beauty is upon you like the young bird new to flight.
Beauty is upon you like the shooting stars each night.
Beauty is upon you like the dolphins as they leap.
Beauty is upon you like the peace that comes with sleep.
Beauty is upon you like ten thousand whispering sighs.
Beauty is upon you like true love that never dies...
Beauty is upon you like true love that never dies...
Beauty is upon you like true love that never dies...
poem by Denis Martindale
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A Mouse Is Killed Today
a mouse is killed today
by an artist
who got mad because
the mouse ate his painting
of the nude woman
that evening while he got so furious
the mouse was at his hole
on the floor eating his usual cheese
the artist mumbled and murmured
and grumbled
and the mouse heard it
and called it
slapstick poetry
a doggerel,
the artist was not able to hold his temper
anymore
got an armalite and shot the hole with the mouse in it
in the name of art
the artist invokes his right to kill the mouse
he says it was
' clearly an artistic expression
and protected by the First Amendment.'
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bleed Like A Crazed, Day
Shine shine shine
Shine shine shine
Shine shine shine
Shine shine shine
Shine shine shine
Shine shine shine
Bleed like a crazed dad
These are the craze
Easy come come goto go back
In the valley of the dead man walks
How they drank from the jazz
Astral kestrel, fed into the featherfall
Fed him on a pencil carving you will never get
Shine shine shine
Bleed like crazed dad
These are the craze
Seek for a leather journey never stopped to think about
Hollywood king kong domino on the side
Street light levitated down stop the blue for 5 dollar gonna keep my domino on the side
Street light, looking right looking to the parlous parlours
Party on the dead put a net through his headache
Shine shine shine
Shine shine shine
Shine shine shine
Bleeeeed
Bleed like a crazed dad
These are the craze
Living on a movie all the shirley/charley films on film
Come together, party footnote on the footstone
Shine shine shine
Bleed like a crazed dad
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Think I See The Light
I used to trust nobody, trusting even less their words,
Until I found somebody, there was no one I preferred,
My heart was made of stone, my eyes saw only misty grey,
Until you came into my life girl, I saw everyone that way.
Until I found the one I needed at my side,
I think I would have been a sad man all my life.
I think I see the light coming to me,
Coming through me giving me a second sight.
So shine, shine, shine,
Shine, shine, shine,
Shine, shine, shine.
I used to walk alone, every step seemed the same.
This world was not my home, so there was nothing much to gain.
Look up and see the clouds, look down and see the cold floor.
Until you came into my life girl, I saw nothing, nothing more.
Until I found the one I needed at my side,
I think I would have been a sad man all my life.
I think I see the light coming to me,
Coming through me giving me a second sight.
So shine, shine, shine,
Shine, shine, shine,
Shine, shine, shine.
song performed by by Cat Stevens
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I'm Just So Sorry But No One Cares About You(Revised In Line Form)
No one cares.
I'm just so sorry but no one cares about you.
No reason to get upset.
Do your own thing as you always do.
Let the time fade.
Follow the suns escape.
Take me somewhere, anywhere but here.
Like a ghost I just want to disappear.
It removes all fear.
Preparing for another sacrifice.
Such is life.
No one cares.
I'm just so sorry, but no one cares about you.
Marching to my own rhythm.
Lead or follow.
Where do you go when the heart becomes so hollow?
How do you fill the void?
Are you feeling a little paranoid?
Trust no one.
All because no one cares.
I'm just so sorry, but no cares about you.
All alone,
Naked and full of shame.
Who's really to blame?
Do you admit the fault as your own?
Or do you mention someones name and complain?
Are you insane?
Completely mad.
A mad hatter off his rocker just a little bit.
All because no one cares.
I'm just so sorry but no one cares about you.
Oh about you.
It's always about you.
No such thing as a selfless act.
This is a fact.
Nothing for free.
This is a favor that can be later be redeemed! ! !
All because no one cares,
I'm just so sorry but no one cares about you.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Once Upon A Time
A hungry mouse was looking for cheese
Anything, fat free, blue vein, or cheddar would please,
So out of is little hole he stepped an'
Blow me down with a feather
He bumped into a lump of cheddar
Alas it was covered by the tail of a sleeping kitten
So round to its face he went where he could be bitten
Then OMG he gave the little kitten a kiss
Who intern awoke and cried 'What oh what is this,
You gave me a kiss wow from a little mouse,
This is lovely for we both live in the same house! '
Exclaimed the mouse 'May I have that little cheese under your tail'
'Of course you can my friend, let's make this a happy ending tale.
poem by Ken e Hall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Beauty Is Upon You
Beauty is upon you like the rose without a thorn.
Beauty is upon you like the dew on grass each morn.
Beauty is upon you like the sapphire shining sea.
Beauty is upon you like the apple on the tree.
Beauty is upon you like the sunshine on the Earth.
Beauty is upon you like the day God granted birth.
Beauty is upon you like the wings on butterflies.
Beauty is upon you like the grace that God supplies.
Beauty is upon you like the diamond wedding ring.
Beauty is upon you like the season known as Spring.
Beauty is upon you like the little lambs that play.
Beauty is upon you like the snow on Christmas Day.
Beauty is upon you like the rainbows up above.
Beauty is upon you like the sentimental dove.
Beauty is upon you like the young bird new to flight.
Beauty is upon you like the shooting stars each night.
Beauty is upon you like the dolphins as they leap.
Beauty is upon you like the peace that comes with sleep.
Beauty is upon you like ten thousand whispering sighs.
Beauty is upon you like true love that never dies...
Beauty is upon you like true love that never dies...
Beauty is upon you like true love that never dies...
Denis Martindale, copyright, August 2001.
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Beauty Of Silence
The beauty of silence is,
When there are no mistakes
The beauty of silence is,
When there is no time to hate
The beauty of silence is,
When there is nothing to explain
The beauty of silence is,
When there is no time to diminish in pain
Lust for every love
Dreams of entire reverie
Beget the pins & pains
Of lies in the stygian of mind
The beauty of silence is, when there's no one to divulge.
The beauty of silence is, when we see in divergent views.
The beauty of silence is, when there's only you.
poem by Amir Amzah
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Shine
Rain drain my play away
Sun gun me down and burn me
Nature hates me today
My head distorts reality
Madness just moved into my shadow
Shine - I will not cry and I will not die no
Shine - I will be there for me
Shine - I will not cry and I will be mine
Ill shine - shine
Who waltzed me into this
And I now stuck here forever
Luck just gave me a kiss
Then lashed me down with a leather strap
Trying to learn to swim without any water
Trying just to begin just when youre in for the slaughter
Shine - I will not cry and I will not die no
Shine - I will be there for me
Shine - ill be just fine if I stay all mine
Ill shine - shine,
You will love me as a winner
Why?
song performed by by Imogen Heap
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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