Related quotes: [the opening line is by...

What Is Allowed Lace Of Vision

[the opening line is by John Berryman's]

Childness let's have us honey,
flame intended, names smeared
upon the glass, an accidental
pane, hands touching it delicate
as trespass, what is allowed
lace of vision.

poem by Warren Falcon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes

A Poem In Fragments Beginning With A Line From Berryman, Black Mouse Series Ensuing

[the poem begins with a line by John Berryman ending with the word 'honey']

Childness let's have us honey, flame intended,
names smeared on the glass, an accidental pane
times hands touching it delicate as trespass,
what is allowed lace of vision times want equals
at last a sum equals at last a remorse felt,
a memory - sunk into soft teas - steeping, turns
steaming said window said prints/views obscured
of nothing in particular or special, troubles only,
only of passing birds enamored of (their lighter
bones) or are they cloud and shadow? merely the
steep sun declining ashen into the Jersey side?

O come lover back the floor where we lay a'times
upon boards the cluttered clothes the depositions
times at least three and take me once again one
times infinity into your arms times two leave me
when you/we are done doing times zero a mere cypher
flown sheer up the flue into the blue ash which now
the sky is where (there is only one sky) a dove flies
into possibility of memory or not times countless
thousands times plus the time it takes for you to
exit shedding skins, shells (am a shell, water you?
you decide) times infinity into the one drain in-

to ocean reflecting blue sky of ash blew into what
remains of you on the beach bathing soft Junes,
boardwalk organ grinder smiling/sings 'amor fati'
mellifluously on as hairs their bodies follicles
delicate when under the glass espied over-spills
into o endlessly it's seams, it seems, into memory
which is already over-said overheard redundantly a
river and time, this one recalled, the cloud drift
and the river the tides beside the city both sides
is as ancient as it always was and is - in the beginning
was darkness over deep water and a word, any word

really would do form something out of deep, of dark,
of water which shapes only by outer circumstance itself
in this case a word leading up to this contraction of
bellies against each times two, and legs times four,
and lips times myriad ones gone before - of murmurs
O lover of thee I adore - I am unkindly left remembering
once was laughter spent seeking out between bodies' valleys
eternally shifting eluding capture, this, just to reintroduce
some levity for we were many day-ed times merry-merrily
played harming no one not even the mouse unmoved per-
haps, watching perhaps, still, still, from beneath the

god you insisted be excluded from all our nakedness
times one too many breaths exchanged, groped times
many ropes all our wanting the curtained dancer en-
tranced entered into upon a mystery how one could be
so, well, so marvelous and so cruel too as one wills
memory - an edge tears open: Fact: that there was love,
there was love after all I could see it smell it feel
it there dancing round the living room one holds on
to, and upon goodness worn out pulled from below down
and dark and deep such is this so it is the riddle it
is all now become since you departed, love, since you

departed I shall count backward by threes then fours
the door which once embraced you now never lets you
go no matter the black or blue tide of thee O lover,
what slips out ebbs black back into lapis, lapses in-
to what self is uttered/poured scored transparent upon
surfeit surface/faces which are even eyes which now
glaze with love lost beside the flue marked upon the
pane blue the mouse black upon the floor remains is
many, a multitude of petals times three the jasmine
unspurned at last at last/least return soft Junes the
lips of which are sometimes pink of lavender swollen

as if to kiss times three the antinomies a string of
pearls and thee O lover to me back 'splaying shyly
where the curtains sway/stand behind them the curtained
dancer entranced/entered into upon a mystery the organ
grinder smiles/sings 'amor fati' mellifluously on

poem by Warren Falcon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fragments Beginning With A Line By Berryman

for Karthik

Childness let's have us honey

flame intended

name smeared

on the glass

an accidental

pane

x hands touching it

delicate

as trespass

what is allowed

lace of

vision

x want

= at last a sum

= at last a remorse

felt

a memory

sunk into

soft teas

steeps

turns

steami ng

said window

said prints,

views obscured

of nothing

in particular,

or special,

troubles only,

only of passing

birds enamored

(their lighter

bones)

are they

cloud and shadow?

merely the steep

sun declining ashen

into the Jersey side?

O come lover

back

the floor where we

lay times upon boards

the cluttered

clothes the

depositions

x at least 3

and take me once

again one

x infinity

into your arms

x 2

leave me when

you/we are done doing

x 0

a mere cypher flown

sheer up the flue

into the blue ash

which now the sky is

where

(there is only one

sky)

a dove flies

into some possibility

of memory

or not

x 35 thousand

x plus the time it

takes for you to exit

shedding skins, shells

(am a shell,
water you?
you decide)

x infinity into

the one drain in-

to ocean reflecting

blue sky of ash

into what remains

of you on the beach

bathing soft Junes

the organ grinder

smiles/sings 'amor

fati' mellifluously

the boardwalk on

x planks from

many trees

x ants in the

roots lumber

their endless

burdens black

or red carapaces

shining as if

sand

x grains untold

as hairs their

bodies follicles

delicate when

under the glass

espied

over-spilling into

o endlessly

it's seams, it seems

into memory

which is, already

over-said

overheard redundantly

a river

and time,

this one

recalled,

the cloud drift

and the river

the tides beside

the city both sides

is as ancient

as it always was

& is

in the beginning

was darkness

over deep water

& a word, any word

really would do

form something

out of deep, of

dark, of water

which shapes it-

self only by outer

circumstance

in this case

a word

leading up to

this

contraction

of bellies

against

each

x 2, and legs

x 4, and lips

x myriad ones gone

before of murmurs

O lover

of thee

I adore

I am unkindly

left remembering

once was laughter

spent

seeking out

between bodies'

valleys eternally

shifting eluding

capture

this

just to re-

introduce some

levity for we

were many day-ed

x merry

merrily played

harming no one

not even the

mouse unmoved

perhaps, watching

perhaps, still,

still, from beneath

the god you insisted

be excluded from

all our nakedness

x 1 too many breaths

exchanged, groped

x many ropes all our

wanting

the curtained

dancer entranced

entered into

upon a mystery

how one could

be so, well,

so marvelous

& so cruel too

as one wills

a silver stem

sharp the metal

top jags memory-

edge tears open

facts

that there was love,

there was love after

all

I could see

it smell it

feel it there

dancing round

the livingroom

one holds

on to & upon

goodness brown

pulled from below

down & dark & deep

such is so

this is the

riddle it is

all now become

since you

departed, love

since you

departed I shall

count backward by

3's then 4's the

door which once

embraced you now

never lets you

no matter

the black or

blue tide

of thee

O lover

what

slips out

ebbs black

back into

lapis

lapses into what

self is uttered/

poured scored

transparent upon

surfeit surface

faces

which are

even

eyes which now

glaze with love

lost

beside the flue

marked upon the

pane blue

the mouse

black remains

is many

a multitude

of petals

x 3

the jasmine

unspurned

at last at

last/least

return

soft Junes

the lips of

which are

sometimes

pink of

lavender

swollen as

if to kiss

x 3 the antinomies

a string of pearls

& thee O lover

back to me

playing

loud where the

curtains sway

I stand behind

them the curtained

dancer entranced

entered into

upon a mystery

the organ grinder

smiles/sings 'amor

fati' mellifluously on

poem by Warren Falcon
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Waiting At The Window

These are my two drops of rain
Waiting on the window-pane.

I am waiting here to see
Which the winning one will be.

Both of them have different names.
One is John and one is James.

All the best and all the worst
Comes from which of them is first.

James has just begun to ooze.
He's the one I want to lose.

John is waiting to begin.
He's the one I want to win.

James is going slowly on.
Something sort of sticks to John.

John is moving off at last.
James is going pretty fast.

John is rushing down the pane.
James is going slow again.

James has met a sort of smear.
John is getting very near.

Is he going fast enough?
(James has found a piece of fluff.)

John has quickly hurried by.
(James was talking to a fly.)

John is there, and John has won!
Look! I told you! Here's the sun!

poem by Alan Alexander Milne
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Wild Honey Pie

Pixies - wild honey pie
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Honey pie, honey pie
Honey pie, honey pie
Honey pie, honey pie
Honey pie, honey pie
Honey pie, honey pie
Honey pie, honey pie, honey pie, honey piieehoooeyeah
(john lennon/paul mccartney)

song performed by by Pixies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Buddhist Lesson # 2

enlightment,
the act of opening,
like a rosebud,

like a mother,
opening the door...
like a child

opening a present,
like a woman
opening to a man....

opening...
all the hidden chambers,
every door to every

secret kingdom of the soul.....
opening the box that holds
your secret thoughts, desires....

opening...
the door of the cage,
letting the winged breath fly....

opening....
your heart to itself,
and to all hearts beating....

opening....
the vault of conceptions,
the entrance to the tomb

of past lives and memories....
opening...
your hands to the world

as if it were your neighbor,
and you, it's home!

poem by Eric Cockrell
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Maybe It Shall Rain

Maybe it shall rain
with drops upon my pane
and I shall finger them from inside
and feel the likeness to how I cried.
But rain will stop and tears will too.
It will be hard for me to view
my window pane without touching it
and it will be a chore for me to sit
and wait for raindrops on my pane
without remembering every stain
of drops and tears that came to me
and prove that they still can be
hurtful.

poem by Edwina Reizer
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The Dada Da-da da. (Call Everything By Its Proper Name)

So you call 'the rain' in pain.
In pain you call 'the rain'
the rain, the rain, the rain
that molten lava rain,
that beats the windowpane,
that is the blade tht cuts your face.
the rain that runs down swollen face,
water like lace,
water like lace on your face,
so the lace, lace, lace
traces your face, face, face
rain, pane, train
and everything' in pain.
The rain is the pain,
that cuts your face with a blade,
so your blood it runs like lace,
blood lace, bloodied lace,
on your face
your face, your face.

poem by Ursula De La Mer
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I Got A Line On You

Yeah.
Oh yeah, come on.
Now, let me take you babe, down to the river bed
Well, I got to tell you something
That'll go right through your head
I got a line on you babe
[I got a line on you babe]
Yeah, I got a line on you
[I got a line on you babe]
Come on.
Now, put your arms around me, every little bit of your love
Oh, you know what to do, I'll make love to you
You got the right stuff, and I do too
I got a line on you babe
[I got a line on you babe]
Yeah, I got a line on you
[I got a line on you babe]
Yeah!
Got my eye on you babe, on your velvet skin
I wanna put my hands were they've never been
Get real hot in the midnight steam
Soaking in the rain of my favorite dream
Your lips are red, the moon is blue
I only ask you once what you want to do
Gonna touch you babe 'til the night is through
Look out honey, got a line on you
Oh yeah.
Oh, now the winter's almost over,
The summer she's coming on strong.
Oh I could love you, love you, love you, love you all year long
I got a line on you babe
[I got a line on you babe]
Yeah, I got a line on you
[I got a line on you babe]
Ah yeah!
I got a line on you babe
[I got a line on you babe]
Yeah, I got a line on you
Yeah, yeah, yeah!
I got a line on you babe
[I got a line on you babe]
I got a line on you
I got a line on you babe.

song performed by by Alice Cooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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His Majesty Accident

Accidental meetings,
accidental greetings,
accidental walks,
accidental talks,
accidental questions,
accidental answers..
But…suddenly…
What has happened?
Meetings, greetings,
walks and talks,
questions and answers
stopped being accidental.
Life has become sentimental.
Love has rushed into the circle
and quickly closed it.
Sleepless nights appeared,
calmness disappeared.
“I love you” instead of “hi”,
a wish to inspire,
a stream of desire,
a heart is on fire,
a wish to fly.
His Majesty Accident governs the Land,
playing games that were not planned.
It sometimes gives us another chance:
to live, to love, to be happy and dance.
It sometimes goes up, sometimes down,
it sometimes gives us a crown.
Everyone waits for an accident,
everyone wishes the happy end.

Larisa R (Odessa, Ukraine)

poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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Everything is accidental

Ask. If you are given, it is accidental.
Search. If you have found, it is accidental.
Knock. If it is open, it is the accidental.
Without any prayer too, you might get
With prayer too, you might miss.
17.11.2007

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Ode to My Beloved!

Eventhough you are not beside me,
I feel those gentle caresses
Which were gifted by your tender palms.

Eventhough you are far from me,
I feel those hearty pulses
Possessed by your divine passion.

Wherever you may be,
Always I remember those days
Which were spilled over by love-stream.

Those clasply shared moments
In which we and our dreams
Dissolved quite each other.

Even if you won't return again,
I behold your countenance,
Your smile that moved my vein.

Those delicate expressions
Which showered the smell of love on me,
Either touching or not touching.

Those ineffable lustres of your face
Helped the spring's flowers
Be filled with honey dews.

poem by Rafeeque C.K
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Mirror Of Humanity

there is a line
in Jesus's face,
just below His eyes...

and on that line
are written the names
of all the children
in the world
dying of starvation...

there is a line
in Buddha's face,
just below his eyes....

and on that line
are written the names
of all the children
in the world
whose familes have
been killed by the
bombs and bullets.

there is a line
in my own face,
just below my eyes...

and on that line
are written the names
of all the children
in the world
i let down when
i dont do my best,
to stand up strong
for equality and peace.

have you looked in a
mirror lately?

poem by Eric Cockrell
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We must travel in the direction of our fear.

quote by John Berryman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The reflection of the flame in the glass seems to be touching the hand. And you feel the helpless fear of these dismembered parts. This sort of thing can hardly be visualized at the script stage.

quote by Terence Fisher
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Architecture

Over a delicate arch--
an eyebrow of stone--

on the unruffled forehead
of a wall

in joyful and open windows
where there are faces instead of geraniums

where rigorous rectangles
border a dreaming perspective

where a stream awakened by an ornament
flows on a quiet field of surfaces

movement meets stillness a line meets a shout
trembling uncertainty simple clarity

you are there
architecture
art of fantasy and stone

there you reside beauty
over an arch
light as a sigh

on a wall
pale from altitude

and a window
tearful with a pane of glass

a fugitive from apparent forms
I proclaim your motionless dance

poem by Zbigniew Herbert
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Dancing with burning madness

Dreams hold me together
dreams of days and nights
spent as one being;
giving ecstacy new names
giving madness new names
giving pleasure
with madness creeping into you
forcing you to forget everything.

You even call names of Gods you know
wondering, these pleasures are real
you cannot believe
as they are greater than
you ever imagined.

Eating each bit of me
with wildness of a mad animal
drinking even sweat of me
as if more sweeter than honey

You pace up and down on me
with your hands, legs,
lips, teeth, breasts, hips.
with your breath going
fast faster fastest
wild animal in you
coming up.

Your eyes are half closed
eye balls rolling up and down
you forget your existence
as a shy, always acting human being.

You think of nothing
only feel wild urges
coming out as wild
with pleasure zones each opening up
making you a bundle of
feelings with all colours
coming in different shapes.
Your whole body
reaching madness
with mind dancing
up and down
and all sides.

poem by Thomas Viruvelil
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Not Every Poem Knows How To Say Its Own Name Properly

NOT EVERY POEM KNOWS HOW TO SAY ITS OWN NAME PROPERLY

Not every poem knows how to say its own name properly-
There are poems that have no name
And poems that are named by others who have not written them-
There are poems whose names make them what they are
And poems whose names contradict and belie them-
Many poems have their first lines as their names
And these poems often are as memorable as one line only-
Great poems and good poems can be nameless
Or can have unforgettable names.

Not every poem knows how to say its own name properly -
Poems are poems are poems
And names are names are names
And sometimes they meet and are one
And live happily ever after-
But there are times when perhaps
They never should have met each other at all.

Poems have their names
And names have their poems
But sometimes they love each other
And truly are one.

poem by Shalom Freedman
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A moment missed

Remember when I asked you out?
And how you shed a tear.
Remember how I told you.
That I'd stay for all those years.

Remember our first kiss?
Under a moonlit sky.
Remember the fireworks.
That shone in your eyes.