Poetry As Constellation
for Karthik,
'...descend, and of the curveship lend a myth to God.'
You hear
'consolation'
as 'constellation'
when I explain
a poem is a
consolation
work that I
am compelled
to
as a lover
is to traces
pointing
beyond sighs
and windows
where
Arcturus
stands
poised
wheeling
in night's
patient
slow round,
his arrow
strung
forever
ready to
swiftly fly
as am I
along the
spatial curve
of your
arching
thighs.
Thi s, too,
taut,
restrained,
breath held
in perpetua's
swollen
lips of
release -
If you
could only
see what
I see in
your eyes
when the
arrow
finally
flies
[for Karthik ]
poem by Warren Falcon
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Related quotes
Arrow For You To Shoot
Shall I give you an arrow to shoot? .
The arrow is ready to shoot forth
Its tip is sharp and shining
And it is sure to pierce through any flesh and bone.
The arrow is made of age old metals hard
Its frame is lean and long
A shaft that knows no bounds...
And it is sure to strike at the object hard.
The arrow is loved by sages and saints
Its value is unquoted in scriptures ever
And it is sure to remain desired by all.
But where is the bow to shoot it from?
You decide... you alone
poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
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Lost Forever in Your Kisses
You flash your big blue eyes,
and purse your ruby lips.
Then once again it happens,
I get lost forever in your kisses.
Night turns into day,
unnoticed by us there.
The world goes whirling by,
like the breath of a sigh.
Cupids arrow has struck again.
It hit me in the heart,
and as I turn around,
I find I’m falling in love again.
poem by David Harris
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Cupid’s Arrow
To those that know love’s sting:
Powerful bow, strung and drawn
Steady aim, Cupid's eyes narrow
With finesse, no need for brawn
Thru lover’s heart casts an arrow
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
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A Side By Side
There was no epiphany,
no thunder from the skies
that day;
nothing so drama-filled;
it was more a soft release
a settling in;
a peek into your soul
by me,
which said
this person
is the one
I'm with.
It was not Love' Bells ringing
from steeple tops
or rose petal garden paths,
but it is Devotion's Arrow which penetrates deeper still
than the ones Cupid carries.
Devotions shaft
did not pierce,
it did not seek
the penetrations Cupid does
there is no magic potion on the arrow tip;
rather my feathered missile
flew all round you
lifting up the two of us,
forever bound.
Young Lovers face inward
looking into each other eyes,
but Love's Maturity
is these Lovers
side by side
facing toward Eternity.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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The Snake
Like sable coils of twisted cord that glisten in the light,
Scales round with tiger stripes are scored, death spoiling for a fight.
Draped on a stump - a tree long dead, bone dry in heat of day;
A flickering fork from poisoned head that smells the air for prey.
Mulberry bow; Black fletched with crow: an arrow, notched, half drawn.
The boy, the hunter, stealing slow, makes not a sound to warn.
The serpent looks with steely eyes, that see no danger yet.
Though close below its burrow lies, the hunter's trap is set.
A powerful arc, a full drawn bow; The snake in mortal fear,
It dashes for its den below, an arrow thudding near.
A blur of sleek uncoiling rings, swift down the hole it glides;
The bow string twangs, the arrow sings, through flesh and bone it slides.
The threshing tail flies side to side, a writhing lashing whip;
Escape from certain death denied, held in the arrow's grip.
The hunter draws it from its lair, lays on the ground his prize;
The vanquished of a contest fair, like bloodied rope it lies.
And so plays out the ancient duel ‘twixt snake and son of man;
Lays slain the fleeing serpent cruel, as in the Maker's plan.
poem by Dennis N. O'Brien
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Its a Wonderful Moment of Bliss
They lay upon the satin sheets
Entwined in each other's bliss
As they stare into each other's eyes
They recall last night love of bliss
As he traces his hands down the curve of her slender body
And smiles his wicked cheeky smile
She catches her breath, as she in turn traces her hand
Down his hard lean supple body
She smiles with devil may care in her eyes
They both loss themselves in the love of bliss once again
That makes them climax as one in the heat of passion and love
Together they are suspended in their lover's arms holding their eternal love
In one moment of sweet tender bliss
He smiles…she sighs…it's a wonderful moment of bliss
©Copyright Kaila George 2012
poem by Kaila George
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Naming The Stars
This present tragedy will eventually
turn into myth, and in the mist
of that later telling the bell tolling
now will be a symbol, or, at least,
a sign of something long since lost.
This will be another one of those
loose changes, the rearrangement of
hearts, just parts of old lives
patched together, gathered into
a dim constellation, small consolation.
Look, we will say, you can almost see
the outline there: her fingertips
touching his, the faint fusion
of two bodies breaking into light.
poem by Joyce Sutphen
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Bow and Arrow
A marksman artistry
Mangle with the tentative diffidence
For I am an arrow
And when I am released
It would torment to miss
And sometimes I am a bow
When hesitance prevails
And swoon over my foliage
Of releasing the puissant
Harbinger of perdition
When the taut heaving sought for abeyance
My own gears would arrest
By compulsion to unfurl the curtains
And give away the sparrow-chance
That I am the bow and arrow all the same
Seizing, repulsing, and detaining
My own emancipation.
poem by Norman Santos
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Are You Hungry? A Poem For Departure
for Karthik, departing
'Who has twisted us like this, so that -
no matter what we do - we have the bearing
of a man going away...so we live,
forever saying farewell.' - Rainer Maria Rilke
out of hearing
the last sense
to go
sing to me now
before ears take
leave and I shall
have no more need
for words, sounds,
even these my sighs
heard as I hear you
dropp the soap in
the bath
I imagine you bending
vague in the steam to
find the bar by scent
as you wash away
your own which has
so compelled me
again and again
(so gladly the
little deaths)
Cleave to this
I say aloud
though you may
not hear my plea
in there
from where I sit
bent doubly-over
multiplied with grief
for leaving all this
assumed presence
chalked now upon
crumbling slate
I am caught up in this
vision without glasses
squinting for what is
real or not though you
are faced to mine as I
obediently move my
shaking hand to your
belly, the scar there,
edges still hot
to the touch
Much there is I will
make of this moment,
drying your back as I
have daily done -
once
began the rite
first night
gathering now
the last
o when
the towel easily un-
folded, drank
woven
little mouths many
deeply
into what
has become
natural in me
with the wiping
In this
I am become
free now of
thinking intent
to this my task
to last, this minute
or two, to linger,
each is
become a touch
this one
and this
I am right now to speak
of this, retrieving the soap
which clings one strand
your hair tangled there,
a cypher I read
with joy grown
long into cleaner
disorder
a leaf upon the
bathroom floor
blown in through
the night window
random now
for discovery
a gift
I bring it to
you calling to
me from the
bedroom
as you pack
fumbled upon
the unmade
bed,
'Are you hungry? '
poem by Warren Falcon
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An Arrow Goes To War
An arrow goes to war
Right to the start of it
Right through the heart of it
“Ow” cries out from a wounded beastly roar
When an arrow goes to war
Good dies out
On a battlefield
Evil considers it chattel killed
Shouts come from the home front too loud to ignore
This is the outcome
Of an arrow gone to war
Weary mothers, fathers, lovers, friends, daughters & sons
Appealing for slaughter to end what has begun
Recognizing the sin but then to win…
…Love is a fight worth fighting for
But how can the broken mend again
When an arrow goes to war?
poem by Tony Haynes
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The Consolations For My Mediocrity
There are many consolations for my mediocrity-
Most are like me
Very few are great-
I tried and wrote what I had to-
I did not give up-
Greatness is a gift of God
I was not given-
A petty person's consolation
In the end perhaps too the greatest
Will know oblivion-
And last and in the end
There is no consolation for having failed.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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No Difference In Memory - After Reading Li-Young Lee
for Karthik
I am flying.
I am falling.
No difference in memory,
the smell of rose oil in your hair
my body can find even in the dark
its scent upon me when I awaken
is the cup alone I drink.
I shall go on drinking when
you leave before dawn
departing to another life
I cannot live but only steal
from mysterious bankers
who lend but never give.
I am not free of this cup.
I have stolen it to remember
milk and a scent of rose
entangled in black hair.
Put me on any cross then,
one of two thieves beside any
good Christ and I'll be with Him
in any paradise above or below.
When He says, I thirst,
if I can reach with nailed hands,
I will gently touch it to his bruised lips
and say, Take. Drink. Drink it all.
I return this cup to you.
poem by Warren Falcon
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That Salt Adheres
for Karthik
that salt adheres to the palm
proclaiming only this
that purchase requires both
sweat and the one hidden pearl
of scraped touch
much there is in the hand
bequeathed;
beneath the thigh the grit
burns smooth the groove
where you lay
tapered fingers flame
that these lips may chaff/
chafe more the love
from the grain which
skin frames from
cloudless scansions
Kindled limbs
do not go out
do not ash hot
to powder
nor the colder grow
though each is made distinct,
distinguished,
though each
is extended, extinguished in
the other's contradiction
neither brother or lover
but both
be perseverance
of palms,
of salt
Preserve.
poem by Warren Falcon
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Stronger Than All
Always standing proud, we know our time has come
Marching off to war, the crusade has just begun
Fighting for the right to live under the sun
We wont stop til they´ve lost and weve won
Come and fly with us, together as one we belong
This magic of metal unites us, its making us strong
Like an arrow we strike c stronger than all
Heavy metal troops on the rise
Like an arrow of might c stronger than all
Well walk through fire, were true to ourselves and our lives
History commits the oath to deal in steel
Warriors of the faith, to no living soul we kneel
Born into the fold, the templars are for real
No one will ever bring us to heel
Come and fly with us, together as one we belong
This magic of metal unites us, its making us strong
Like an arrow we strike - stronger than all
Shooting through the air at full speed
Like an arrow of might - stronger than all
In the name of metal, defending our hopes and beliefs
The past and the present unites in us all,
We stand up for our beliefs
The way of the templars is here once again,
Forever they will be free
Like an arrow we strike - stronger than all
Heavy metal troops on the rise
Like an arrow of might - stronger than all
Well walk through fire, were true to ourselves
Like an arrow we strike - stronger than all
Shooting through the air at full speed
Like an arrow of might - stronger than all
In the name of metal, defending our hopes and beliefs
song performed by by Hammerfall
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Perservering of Palms
for Karthik, once again,
'The light foot hears you
and the brightness begins...' - Pindar
that salt adheres to the palm
proclaiming only this
that purchase requires both
sweat and the one hidden pearl
of scraped touch
much there is in the hand
bequeathed;
beneath the thigh the grit
burns smooth the groove
where you lay
your wonder - that purchase
of kisses, too, with salt,
crystalline, rimed - is hard
Timed little breath-hairs,
inscaped light, red, turned
the more out in layered traces
delicate,
veins strain the
more for tongues' hard press
tapered fingers flame
that these lips may chaff/
chafe more the love
from the grain which
skin frames from
cloudless scansions
Obdurate Sun,
unclothe now,
apparel dispose,
appear beyond
familiar feet,
cast off,
at last unremembered
legs arc,
display,
sunrise splay
without restraint
tangled limbs arch,
on summit burn
where doffed shoes
obey Flame which
does not snuff nor cinder
Kindled limbs
do not go out
do not ash hot
to powder
nor the colder grow
though each is made distinct,
distinguished, though each
is extended, extinguished in
the other's contradiction
neither brother or lover
but both
be perseverance
of palms,
of salt
Preserve.
poem by Warren Falcon
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A Poetic Ideal
A POETIC IDEAL
In my old age
I rhyme a poem
For the Distant
Unperceived by me –
And they in their own Solitudes
hear it as Hope and Beauty-
Consolation before Eternity.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Hypens
Hired time felt that terminal import
was cloaked, and we were not ready
for the consolation.
Our conscience was giving a terrible blow
because world was not interested in knowing
why the man went outside of truth.
Who is deceiving whom? Closing the eye
while answering some question, you find
that shadows are not exiled.
Transparency of skull does not
betray the thoughts.
Clumsily you cover the swollen wounds
with a cap of innocence.
Eyes are searching for the snakes
I hold my rope and trap
It is flooding my ripe age!
poem by Satish Verma
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Never Say Die
Oh who took that shot
Well I couldnt say, I was already down
Oh who set me up
Well I couldnt say cause I saw no one around
Now Im lyin here in desperation
I had it all worked out
Everything I hear is consolation
Ive got this feelin you should never say die
In my fantasy
There were days to come that I wanted so bad
Someone sold me out then it all was done
That dream was all that I had
Now Im lyin here in desperation
I had it all worked out
Everything I hear is consolation
Ive got this feelin you should never say die
song performed by by Europe
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Your shadow is Due to own Opequeness!
Like wheels
you spun round
in wonder
as you spoke
of the mysterious mountain
at the brink of heaven
that stills many waters, sailing over the waves.
And a shining lamp
burned in the midst of you!
Pointing,
he runs to the mountain.
-Hildegard von bingen
He who points at the mountain
and runs,
The master of masters,
The prophet of prophets, Points at the root,
From where all seeds Germinate,
has its roots and grow
downward, from stillness to the
breeze of breath,
Wave of action and reaction, Impulses and thoughts! The veil is fog of own delusion,
look at the image of mountain,
Make your mind as bow,
reasoning as an arrow,
place your soul as arrow head,
aiming at the mountain, Accurate shot guided by
meditation,
Crosses the land of pain and
agony!
Follow him or he will follow you
as your shade,
What you think real is the shade,
Shadow of your opaqueness,
Be transparent cleaning your
heart,
what you think your shade is
that real!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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The Consolation....
when a leaf falls down
lands on the the face of the river
that flows finally to
the arms of the sea
what is really the consolation?
the leaf has kissed
the lips of the water
and those who say that
a kiss is not sweet is
altogether wrong...
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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