The Furies
Not a third that walks beside me,
But five or six or more.
Whether at dusk or daybreak
Or at blinding noon, a retinue
Of shadows that no door
Excludes.--One like a kind of scrawl,
Hands scrawled trembling and blue,
A harelipped and hunchbacked dwarf
With a smile like a grapefruit rind,
Who jabbers the way I do
When the brain is empty and tired
And the guests no longer care:
A clown, who shudders and suddenly
Is a man with a mouth of cotton
Trapped in a dentist's chair.
Not a third that walks beside me,
But five or six or more:
One with his face gone rotten,
Most hideous of all,
Whose crutches shriek on the sidewalk
As a fingernail on a slate
Tears open some splintered door
Of childhood. Down the hall
We enter a thousand rooms
That pour the hours back,
That silhouette the walls
With shadows ripped from war,
Accusing and rigid, black
As the streets we are discolored by.
The crutches fall to the floor.
Not a third that walks beside me,
But five or six, or more
Than fingers or brain can bear--
A monster strung with guts,
A coward covered with hair,
Matted and down to his knees,
Murderers, liars, thieves,
Moving in darkened rows
Through daylight and evening air
Until the eyelids close,
Snapped like the blades of a knife,
And your dream of their death begins.
Possessors and possessed,
They keep the bedside wake
As a doctor or a wife
Might wait the darkness through
Until the pale daybreak--
Protectors of your life.
poem by Weldon Kees
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Girl On Terrace
I see a girl,
Standing on terrace,
Face covered with long curls,
Staring in the empty space,
She’s watching the stars, or the clouds,
I don’t know,
But her pale face is glowing in moonlight,
Showing her mood is a bit low,
She’s trying to catch,
Someone in the empty air,
Realizes soon it was just a shadow,
And lies back on the empty chair,
Her face is again in her hands,
Seems like gaining some words or thoughts,
Just a second passed and I hear a sob,
It seemed she was in pain,
Something hurt her a lot,
She was continuously touching,
The chair beside her,
Slowly and affectionately,
Like she was touching a person,
Close to her,
Again she realized,
There was no one sitting there,
It was again a shadow,
And seemed like she was going to shatter….
Suddenly, I saw a smile,
Reflecting pain, on her face,
Maybe she remembered something good from her past,
Or just an incident case,
She flinched,
As she remembered something,
Her face was worse than I first saw,
Her silent sobs now louder,
Than any other creatures creeping,
It seemed she was living an empty life,
Full of darkness and shadows,
I don’t know what had happened to her,
Wonder if she was hurt by circumstances, friend or foe?
Suddenly, she stood up,
And was going back downstairs,
The rhythm of stick, made me realize she was blind,
Maybe that was the pain,
Beneath her beautiful pale layers,
But I soon realized,
Her pain was more than that,
Of course,
I wanted to ask about the person in her empty shadows,
The reason for her silent sobs,
But that young girl,
On the terrace,
Sometimes smiling, sometimes sobbing,
With her pain and empty shadows,
Was lost………….
poem by Apurva Jain
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Gravity Is My Enemy
He walks into the room
Doesnt even know his name
Hes looking for the answer
His familys to blame
We all know where he came from
And who hes looking for
Uncovering the window
You watch out for the door
In and out the thing goes
Back and forth the looks flow
He walks into the kitchen
Doesnt even know the score
I try to look him in the eyes
He looks towards the floor
Hes only doing what he knows
In the way that he knows best
The doctor felt quite confident
He passed the entrance test
In and out the thing goes
Back and forth the looks flow
Hes standing by the canopy
Thirty paces from the door
Hes looking at your shoulder
That means he wants some more
Dont give him what he came for
Dont let him know you care
If he looks at you just look away
He cant tell from over there
In and out the thing goes
Back and forth the looks flow
He walks into the room
Doesnt even know his name
Hes looking for the answer
His familys to blame
We all know where he came from
And who hes looking for
Im covering the window
You watch out for the door
In and out the thing goes
Back and forth the looks flow
He walks into your bedroom
Checks the posters on the wall
Hes looking through the closet
Looking for something small
He looks inside your handbag
He rips apart your drawers
He asks you for a crowbar
Wants to check beneath the floors
In and out the thing goes
Back and forth the looks flow
song performed by by Men Without Hats
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The House Of Dust: Part 03: 01: As evening falls
As evening falls,
And the yellow lights leap one by one
Along high walls;
And along black streets that glisten as if with rain,
The muted city seems
Like one in a restless sleep, who lies and dreams
Of vague desires, and memories, and half-forgotten pain . . .
Along dark veins, like lights the quick dreams run,
Flash, are extinguished, flash again,
To mingle and glow at last in the enormous brain
And die away . . .
As evening falls,
A dream dissolves these insubstantial walls,—
A myriad secretly gliding lights lie bare . . .
The lovers rise, the harlot combs her hair,
The dead man's face grows blue in the dizzy lamplight,
The watchman climbs the stair . . .
The bank defaulter leers at a chaos of figures,
And runs among them, and is beaten down;
The sick man coughs and hears the chisels ringing;
The tired clown
Sees the enormous crowd, a million faces,
Motionless in their places,
Ready to laugh, and seize, and crush and tear . . .
The dancer smooths her hair,
Laces her golden slippers, and runs through the door
To dance once more,
Hearing swift music like an enchantment rise,
Feeling the praise of a thousand eyes.
As darkness falls
The walls grow luminous and warm, the walls
Tremble and glow with the lives within them moving,
Moving like music, secret and rich and warm.
How shall we live tonight? Where shall we turn?
To what new light or darkness yearn?
A thousand winding stairs lead down before us;
And one by one in myriads we descend
By lamplit flowered walls, long balustrades,
Through half-lit halls which reach no end.
poem by Conrad Potter Aiken
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Prelude
As evening falls,
And the yellow lights leap one by one
Along high walls
And along black streets that glisten as if with rain,
The muted city seems
Like one in a restless sleep who lies and dreams
Of vague desires, vague memories, and half-forgotten pain
Along dark veins like lights the quick dreams run,
Flash, are extinguished, flash again,
To mingle and glow at last in the enormous brain
And die away
As evening falls,
A dream dissolves these insubstantial walls,
A myriad secretly gliding lights lie bare.
The lover rises, the harlot combs her hair,
The dead man's face grows blue in the dizzy lamplight,
The watchman climbs the stair
The bank-defaulter leers at a chaos of figures
And runs among them and is beaten down ;
The sick man coughs, and hears the chisels ringing;
The tired clown
Sees the enormous crowd—a million faces
Motionless in their places,
Ready to laugh, and seize, and crush, and tear ....
The dancer smooths her hair,
Laces her golden slippers and runs through the door
To dance once more,
Hearing swift music like an enchantment rise,
Feeling the praise of a thousand eyes.
As darkness falls,
The walls grow luminous and warm, the walls
Tremble and glow with the lives within them moving,
Moving like music, secret and rich and warm.
How shall we live tonight, where shall we turn?
To what new light or darkness yearn ?
A thousand winding stairs lead down before us;
And one by one in myriads we descend
By lamp-lit flowered walls, long balustrades,
Through half-lit halls which reach no end.
poem by Conrad Potter Aiken
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Drip, drip, drip
tears roll down my face
drip, drip, drip
that's all I hear as the tears fall
in the dark
I sit alone as blood runs down my arm
and mixes with my tears
drip, drip, drip
my door is locked
my knife is a deadly scarlet
getting closer every time
to the veins I desirer
drip, drip, drip
I push the blade deeper into my arm
it hurts but it's a good pain
a knock at the door
I grab my friend and scream
as I find the veins I want
drip, drip, drip
my mom walks in as I fall to the floor
my dying words to my mom
'I live no more'
she rushed to my body and calls for my dad
I smile as they see my pain
drip, drip, drip
as my blood hits the floor
my mom screams my name
I smile once more
and say good bye
my mom screams ' why god why? '
the last words I heard were a plea for help
until the final
drip, drip, drip
poem by No Reason To Care
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Evening Shadows
When evening shadows fall
Minutes seem so long
When evening shadows fall
I'm waiting for the dawn
I miss you every night
Just about this time
You're always on my mind
When evening shadows fall
When evening shadows fall
End up staring at the wall
Even when you're gone
The feeling's all so strong
Want you to come on back
Back where you belong
So I can sing my song
When evening shadows fall
Well I'm living in a dream
And it s getting so late
And you call my name
And I'm wide awake
It might as well be night
Hope that you're alright
Well I just can't wait
To get you in my sight
I'm here every day
Just about this time
From dusk till dawn
When evening shadows fall
Well I'm living in a dream
And it's getting so late
And you call my name
Then I'm wide awake
It might as well be night
Hope that you're alright
Well I just can't wait
To get you in my sight
You ask me if I miss you
I say not at all
Only every night
'Bout this time
When evening shadows fall
Every night about this time
When evening shadows fail
You're always on my mind
When evening shadows fall
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fugue of Death
Black milk of daybreak we drink it at nightfall
we drink it at noon in the morning we drink it at night
we drink it and drink it
we are digging a grave in the sky it is ample to lie there
A man in the house he plays with the serpents he writes
he writes when the night falls to Germany your golden
hair Margarete
he writes it and walks from the house the stars glitter he
whistles his dogs up
he whistles his Jews out and orders a grave to be dug in
the earth
he commands us strike up for the dance
Black milk of daybreak we drink you at night
we drink you in the morning at noon we drink you at
nightfall
drink you and drink you
A man in the house he plays with the serpents he writes
he writes when the night falls to Germany your golden
hair Margarete
Your ashen hair Shulamith we are digging a grave in the
sky it is
ample to lie there
He shouts stab deeper in earth you there and you others
you sing and you play
he grabs at the iron in his belt and swings it and blue are
his eyes
stab deeper your spades you there and you others play on
for the dancing
Black milk of daybreak we drink you at nightfall
we drink you at noon in the mornings we drink you at
nightfall
drink you and drink you
a man in the house your golden hair Margarete
your ashen hair Shulamith he plays with the serpents
He shouts play sweeter death's music death comes as a
master from Germany
he shouts stroke darker the strings and as smoke you
shall climb to the sky
then you'll have a grave in the clouds it is ample to lie
there
Black milk of daybreak we drink you at night
we drink you at noon death comes as a master from
Germany
we drink you at nightfall and morning we drink you and
drink you
a master from Germany death comes with eyes that are
blue
with a bullet of lead he will hit in the mark he will hit
you
a man in the house your golden hair Margarete
he hunts us down with his dogs in the sky he gives us a
grave
he plays with the serpents and dreams death comes as a
master from Germany
your golden hair Margarete
your ashen hair Shulamith.
poem by Paul Celan
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Zen Brain
I'm going from strange to stranger
Every year
It's going from strange to stranger
Every year
I take it back
You're panicking
I take it back
I just don't know
I really thought I wanted to go
But when you're close
You look through me just like a ghost
I like sleeping
I'm only safe when I'm dreaming
I need a new heart
This one's hollow always scheming
You wait for summer
And then you wait for winter
But there's a total lack of splendor
Zen brain
Throw away your crushes
All your childhood crutches away
Super brain
Never scared of nothing
Violence or loving my way
song performed by by Nada Surf from High/Low
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Empty Arms
Empty arms
That long for you
And they wait
Dear just for you
And these arms
Will stay this way
Till you return
To them someday
Each lonely night
I go to bed
I hug the pillow
Where you used to lay your head
Empty arms
But not for long
Cause my babys coming home
And when he
Walks through the door
These empty arms
Ill have no more
And when he
Walks through that door
These empty arms
Ill have no more
These empty arms
Ill have no more
song performed by by Reba Mcentire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Daylight
All of the nights when the light was low and day seemed so far away
Darkness was endless and i kept seeing ghosts turn in shades of grey
I wanted to see things just the way they used to be
Don't want those shadows hanging over me
Daylight, i wanna see daylight
Wanna see daylight that shines all around
Daylight, i wanna see clear blue light
Wanna see daylight that shines all around
Hours and hours in towers on the back road of tragedy
Voices are calling and fingers come on crawling all over me
Then when i sit up and my hands begin to shake
Suddenly there i see the dawn break
Only one thing keeping me sane, oh
song performed by by Asia
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Burn
don't look don't look" the shadows breathe
Whispering me away from you
"don't wake at night to watch her sleep
You know that you will always lose
This trembling
Adored
Tousled bird mad girl... "
But every night i burn
But every night i call your name
Every night i burn
Every night i fall again
"oh don't talk of love" the shadows purr
Murmuring me away from you
"don't talk of worlds that never were
The end is all that's ever true
There's nothing you can ever say
Nothing you can ever do... "
Still every night i burn
Every night i scream your name
Every night i burn
Every night the dream's the same
Every night i burn
Waiting for my only friend
Every night i burn
Waiting for the world to end
"just paint your face" the shadows smile
Slipping me away from you
"oh it doesn't matter how you hide
Find you if we're wanting to
So slide back down and close your eyes
Sleep a while
You must be tired... "
But every night i burn
Every night i call your name
Every night i burn
Every night i fall again
Every night i burn
Scream the animal scream
Every night i burn
Dream the crow black dream
Dream the crow black dream...
song performed by by Cure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Voice On The Wind
I
She walks with the wind on the windy height
When the rocks are loud and the waves are white,
And all night long she calls through the night,
'O my children, come home!'
Her bleak gown, torn as a tattered cloud,
Tosses around her like a shroud,
While over the deep her voice rings loud,-
'O my children, come home, come home!
O my children, come home!'
II
Who is she who wanders alone,
When the wind drives sheer and the rain is blown?
Who walks all night and makes her moan,
'O my children, come home!'
Whose face is raised to the blinding gale;
Whose hair blows black and whose eyes are pale,
While over the world goes by her wail,-
'O my children, come home, come home!
O my children, come home!'
III
She walks with the wind in the windy wood;
The dark rain drips from her hair and hood,
And her cry sobs by, like a ghost pursued,
'O my children, come home!'
Where the trees loom gaunt and the rocks stretch drear,
The owl and the fox crouch back with fear,
As wild through the wood her voice they hear,-
'O my children, come home, come home!
O my children, come home!'
IV
Who is she who shudders by
When the boughs blow bare and the dead leaves fly?
Who walks all night with her wailing cry,
'O my children, come home!'
Who, strange of look, and wild of tongue,
With wan feet wounded and hands wild-wrung,
Sweeps on and on with her cry, far-flung,-
'O my children, come home, come home!
O my children, come home!'
V
'Tis the Spirit of Autumn, no man sees,
The mother of Death and of Mysteries,
Who cries on the wind all night to these,
'O my children, come home!'
The Spirit of Autumn, pierced with pain,
Calling her children home again,
Death and Dreams, through ruin and rain,-
'O my children, come home, come home!
O my children, come home!'
poem by Madison Julius Cawein
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Black & white and shades of grey.
The curfew marks the fading of the light.
Now is the time when shadows congregate.
In hidden corners where they wait.
To welcome eagerly the fall of night.
Although by daylight forced to hide from sight.
The fall of darkness sets the shadows free
To go about their business secretly.
The quiet hours when the shadows claim their right.
But dawn will come and with the dawn daylight.
The shadows then are forced to hide away.
Throughout the day, to wait impatiently
Counting the hours until the fall of night.
Though where the shadows hide no man can say
With any degree of accuracy.
Tuesday,07 February 2012
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Sometime at a concert hall, in recollection...
Sometime at a concert hall, in recollection,
A Brahms intermezzo will wound me-I'll start,
Remember that summer, the flowerbed garden,
The walks and the bathing, the tryst of six hearts,
The awkward, shy artist, with steep, dreamlike forehead,
Her smile, into which one would dive for a while,
A smile, as good-natured and bright as a river,
Her artist's appearance, her forehead, her smile.
They'll play me some Brahms-I will shudder, surrender,
And in retrospection the sounds will evoke
That faraway summer, the hoard of provisions,
My son and my brother, the garden, the oak.
The artist would stuff in her overall pockets
Her pencils, and objects with fanciful names,
Or would, inadvertently dropping her palette,
Turn much of the grass into colourful stains.
They'll play me some Brahms-I'll surrender, remember
The stubborn dry brushwood, the entrance, the roof,
Her smile and appearance, the mouth and the eyebrows,
The darkened verandah, the steps and the rooms.
And suddenly, as in a fairytale sequence,
The family, neighbours and friends will appear,
And-memories crowding-I'll drown in my weeping
Before I have time to have shed all my tears.
And, circling around in a swift intermezzo-
Embracing the song like a treetrunk at noon,
Four families' shadows will turn on the meadow
To Brahms's compelling and childhood-clear tune
poem by Boris Pasternak
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Early Works - Shadows
A finger of darkness
a pool of despair
a wanderlust begotten
is anyone there.
Shadows like monsters
from a different age
crouch in the corners
in a closing day’s page.
Shadows of moving
shadows of still
shadows of being
and buildings fill.
In door and alleyway,
they multiply
in wait to enshroud
the closing hours.
7 January 1979
poem by David Harris
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The Solitary Reaper
I behold him single,
walking on the street
and his face is covered
by the long black cloak
that the evening wind
bristles against.
From a distance he looks
like a ancient priest,
or somebody trying to
get the better
of the foggy raining weather.
Something sinister is in his step
and I have seen him before
and the knowledge of it,
brings the hair on my arms to life.
I greet him like a old friend
and he smiles at me
like regular passers on the street do
and his voice is part of the wind:
“I am not coming for you, yet.”
The moonlight glitters yellow
in a crescent shape in the sky
and falls on the sickle in his hand
and death walks by,
to take away the very pulse of life
somewhere nearby
and he’s in a hurry to be in time
before destiny’s clockwork reach its mark.
Down the street
I hear a young man sobbing
in a old white house
where all the lights
are burning a soft yellow
and just for a moment,
the solitary reaper hesitates
before unnoticed
he walks through the door.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Mr. Big Toe Interviews Pillow Monster
Pillow Monster walks through the door,
he know what his interview is for.
Pillow Monster has to talk about what he just ate,
he loves healthy foods that make him feel great!
Mr. Big Toe walks in the lobby right then,
shake hands with Pillow Monster and they become best friends.
Mr. Big Toe takes Pillow Monster into the studio,
“Says, Welcome To Big Toe Wants To Know”
this is one of the funniest radio shows.”
Pillow Monster’s tells the children how he saves the day,
saves the day on Melodie Mezoree’s birthday.
He tells them he is a character in 4 books,
more will be out soon on the Nook.
Till then he does one last rhyme,
and sings to audience and Mr. Big Toe one last time.
Written By Suzae Chevalier
www.suechevalier.com www.krendoll.com
poem by Christina Sunrise
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She Walks...
She walks in beauty in my Dreams
She dances across the shadows of my mind
As the moonlight beams
Upon two souls entwined
All through the day and into the night
She walks in beauty in my dreams
In my memory, I hold her tight
Safe in my arms, sheltered from the screams
In the shadows my mind does teem
My thoughts my dreams, she does invade
She walks in beauty in my dreams
Across my heart in an endless parade
Love cascading, exploding in a brilliant flare
Flowing like a mountain stream
Until I am left with my dreams and where
She walks in beauty in my dreams
JPM 2/11/2008
Brand New Sunrise
City wins another fight
To take the day into the nite
My shadows been around for too long
Daylight understands me, the part thats not alone
Hide n seek they try to be discreet
Moonlight walks with me, sunset talks to me
But all I want from you is a brand new sunsrise
Silently keeping what they are keeping
Moonclouds are flocking, streetlamps mockin
Time to work it out somehow
But the day whispers someone
The nite moves so slowly
He wont take it out on his head
Nite walks away with the summer
Day gives into the fall
Moonlite walks with me
Sunset talks to me
But all I want from you is a brand new sunrise
song performed by by Wet Wet Wet
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Eat Your Heart Out
I've come by, she says, to tell you
that this is it. I'm not kidding, it's
over. this is it.
I sit on the couch watching her arrange
her long red hair before my bedroom
mirror.
she pulls her hair up and
piles it on top of her head-
she lets her eyes look at
my eyes-
then she drops her hair and
lets it fall down in front of her face.
we go to bed and I hold her
speechlessly from the back
my arm around her neck
I touch her wrists and hands
feel up to
her elbows
no further.
she gets up.
this is it, she says,
this will do. well,
I'm going.
I get up and walk her
to the door
just as she leaves
she says,
I want you to buy me
some high-heeled shoes
with tall thin spikes,
black high-heeled shoes.
no, I want them
red.
I watch her walk down the cement walk
under the trees
she walks all right and
as the pointsettas drip in the sun
I close the door.
poem by Charles Bukowski
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