Caving In, White, Salted Flesh
The only sound
He makes is the one he makes
With his fingers, snapping off
A pincer, boiled-red, shelled husk
Caving in, white, salted flesh
Rising like clouds, fraying.
My mother watches all this
Like a rapt audience. If she could,
She would rise up in a passion
To applaud, convinced she is
Not the metaphor in the bowl,
Pink leg dangling, suspended
Over the rim, chest in pieces,
Spooned and well-dug, emptied.
poem by Cyril Wong
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Related quotes
Visit Malaysia Year Poem - Pulau Ketam (State of Selangor)
pincers, white fluffy flesh
red hot, spicy shells
under our white
plastic hammers
each leg, pincer,
carapace broken
licked clean
the two eyes
now jutting out of
the auspicious
light as flight
red orange shell
so cleaned up of life
so meaningless
and emptied
of existence
a loser of
the world
except for
its rich delicious
steamy white
vein laced flesh
the shells
stripped of all the limbs
straddle the table
play out the animals in us
some are upside down
some in upright position
some helter skelter
loose signatures of the
delicious triumph of a two legged
over a ten legged wonder
now only our hands are
crawling all over the table
grabbing parts, positioning legs,
pincer for hammers
we are nothing
more than dinosaur
when it comes to crabs
they are but fluffy, juicy, spicy,
pulpy, squeaky rich protein to
fill up the stomach
to build the muscles
of our own limbs
more customers coming?
get ready the crabs
get ready the rice
and the hammers
how many of them please?
how many crabs?
ketam ketam ketam
plankwalk that make
our walk sound crab
and.....dinosaur
Ketam is the malay word for crabs. pulau ketam is an island 30 minutes away from port klang in selangor. port klang is about an hour by commuter train from kuala lumpur and the same amount of time if one drives in one's own car. the island is famous for its seafood. the wooden plankwalk to the numerous restaurants makes one's walk sound crab because it goes ketam ketam ketam.
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Springy Phrases
What is this sound
So sharp and so clear
That tickles and titillates
Against my ear
What tis it that causes
My spirits to sing
What could it be
This most miraculous thing
What is that makes me
feel so alive again
After an infernal winter
That seemed without end
After the ice and the freezing
And the frost bitten fingers
What is that crisp new sound
That echoes and lingers
What could it be
That makes me feel so full of hope
What could it be that
Makes me feel and act like a dope
What is this gentle sound
That Fractures fearsome, frozen rivers
this soft sibilant sound
That gives surcease to my shivers
What is that sound that
makes me feel like I’m ten again
I think that I know now…
It’s an old, long lost friend
What is this wondrous noise
and clamorous din
That makes my heart take wing
It could only be
what we’ve wanted, you see
The noisy thing that is breaking ….is Spring!
poem by David Whalen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Baby's Breath
“It’s not flesh and blood, but heart which makes us fathers and sons” Johann von Schiller
Caressing soft blanket
Warmth spreads
Beneath her breast
Baby’s breath
With tender touches
Rocking gently
Joy spills tears
Baby’s breath
Beneath her chest
Is heaven scent
Window lace drawn
Her eyes glitter
Baby’s breath
Against her neck
In rhyme with hearts together
Nightingale sings
Crescent moon shinning
Baby’s breath
Beneath her chest
In her arms asleep
It’s not flesh and blood, but heart which makes us mother & babe.
(June 2011)
poem by Jo Ann Zsilavetz
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What Makes the Clouds Echo Roar
What makes the clouds echo roar?
As thunder, makes it's pitch
dark and dreary, becomes the sky
What makes the clouds echo roar?
As the sky opens up, and it begins to pour,
no where to run, no where to hide, as I,
head for cover, and still wonder,
what makes the clouds echo roar?
I look around, and see a door
swiftly as a rabbit, I reach there,
I'm really drenched, and still I ask,
What makes the clouds echo roar?
I shake off the water, on to the floor
the rain has stopped now, as I ask once again,
what makes the clouds echo roar?
do you know what? It dosn't really matter anymore.
Back And Forth
both are mine they both/know
that but it is salted palms
and that very small mask that hides it's nose
and thorns cause it to bleed my 'roses'—only 'lily' knew—no frowns he/him expanded her\you wash it off 'oh Sylvia' we are rich
with your pink of fingers painted color rainbows arc the sky'
as a finger moves it back and forth see the sea as it waves
a beautiful woman made of foam or of;
which hand is the nymph to splash her water- where he swims
pushing her heart up closer to mine
and both are fine pink salted pearls you wear around there.
poem by Is It Poetry
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A wold made of pink
It's just a new obsession
A color which makes me go insane
Pink is not any kind of fiction
Pink always helps me gain
Faith, confidence and everything I need
Trust, joy and a bit of laughter
This color helps me succeed
Pink is the color of my eyes
Only when I look at you
Pink makes me an angel in disguise
It's the color which brings joy to me and my crew
Pink is a color so mighty, so great
Pink is the color my face
Turns when I'm late
Pink is the color which nothing can replace
It's the color which I can't stop thinking of
Neither day nor night
Pink symbolizes my love
Pink is the color of the light
Which shines in my heart for you
It's the color of a wonderland
This color shouldn't be withdrew
It's the color of my imaginary sand
Pink is the color my cat wants to be
Pink is the color of the sun which shines
Pink is the color the world can see
Pink is the color which gives me signs
poem by Mia Peterson
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Mid the Piteous Heaps of Dead
'MID the piteous heaps of dead
Goes one weary golden head
Tossing ever to and fro,
Calling loud and calling low.
Mother, mother, step so light,
Mother, lay your fingers white
On my forehead like a dew !
Mother, mother, where are you?
Still so loud he makes his cry
That the dying cannot die;
All the writhing field's one groan
While he lies and cries alone.
But his mother's far away;
Cannot hear him cry and say:
Mother, I am dying, come!
Mother, I am lost from home!
Mary, Mother of all men,
Come and comfort him in pain.
Take his young head to the breast
Where your Child and God had rest.
Mary, Mary, step so light.
Mary, lay your fingers white
On his forehead! He shall dream
That his mother comforts him.
Mary, Mother, croon him o'er
Lullabies you sang before!
Mary, ease him, crooning low,
In the way that mothers know!
poem by Katharine Tynan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To Be Alive
Anderson/squire/howe/white/sherwood/khoroshev
Not a lot is missing
Every ounce of treasure found
And i believe that everyone should get what
They're allowed
Suspected of belief that comes suspended
In a sound
And everybody wants some
It's the sound they make in heaven
It's a sound for here on earth
I've heard it in the whispering
Of the wonders that we search
We've waited far too long
To hear the healing of the stars
'n' everybody wants some
Everybody wants some
Everybody wants some
Everybody wants some
Everybody wants some
To feel alive
Oh - does it get much better than this
Oh - does it get much better, much better
Oh - does it get much better than this, than this
There's the sound that keeps you trying
There's the sound that makes you smile
There's a sound in every corner
Of the world that we survive
Your temple is the harmony
You feel the sacred ground
Just wishing for the secret
To appear within the sound
Watching for the morning star
The rhythm of the sun
I hear it in my waking dreams
The singing has begun
The passion that we walk upon
The passion that we bring
Is written for the mountains
They love to hear us sing
Everybody wants some
Everybody wants some
Everybody wants some
Everybody wants some
To feel alive
Oh - doesn't get much better than this
Oh - doesn't get much better than this, than this
Who made me make believe
I'm alive i'm living
Never underestimate
The signals coming to you
Oh
The sounding of the earth
It shakes you, yes it shakes you
Oh
The sounding of the earth
It shakes you, let it shake you
Hep yadda
song performed by by Yes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To Be Alive
Anderson/squire/howe/white/sherwood/khoroshev
Not a lot is missing
Every ounce of treasure found
And i believe that everyone should get what
They're allowed
Suspected of belief that comes suspended
In a sound
And everybody wants some
It's the sound they make in heaven
It's a sound for here on earth
I've heard it in the whispering
Of the wonders that we search
We've waited far too long
To hear the healing of the stars
'n' everybody wants some
Everybody wants some
Everybody wants some
Everybody wants some
Everybody wants some
To feel alive
Oh - does it get much better than this
Oh - does it get much better, much better
Oh - does it get much better than this, than this
There's the sound that keeps you trying
There's the sound that makes you smile
There's a sound in every corner
Of the world that we survive
Your temple is the harmony
You feel the sacred ground
Just wishing for the secret
To appear within the sound
Watching for the morning star
The rhythm of the sun
I hear it in my waking dreams
The singing has begun
The passion that we walk upon
The passion that we bring
Is written for the mountains
They love to hear us sing
Everybody wants some
Everybody wants some
Everybody wants some
Everybody wants some
To feel alive
Oh - doesn't get much better than this
Oh - doesn't get much better than this, than this
Who made me make believe
I'm alive i'm living
Never underestimate
The signals coming to you
Oh
The sounding of the earth
It shakes you, yes it shakes you
Oh
The sounding of the earth
It shakes you, let it shake you
Hep yadda
song performed by by Yes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mother's Steamed Rice
the sweetest song from the kitchen
that i hear
is mother's steamed rice
its smoke rising
to the ceiling
of our old wooden house
the smell so fresh
so sweetly scented with
pandan leaves
so heavenly
in broad daylight
i can see the moon and stars
beside the plate full of white steamed rice
are five pieces of salted fish
their skin charred with the cinders
their eyes staring
poisoned with so much envy
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet: The Wind
What shakes the trees so violently? ’Tis Wind;
What moves the clouds hither/ thither? ’Tis Wind;
What takes the tornado around? ’Tis Wind;
What brings the sandstorm on the earth? ’Tis Wind.
What makes the cool and gentle breeze? ’Tis Wind
What makes the boughs and leaves to dance? ’Tis Wind;
What makes the autumn leaves to fall? ’Tis Wind;
What makes the honey-bees to fly? ’Tis Wind.
What makes pollen reach in showers? ’Tis Wind;
What makes the dust to climb towers? ’Tis Wind;
What spreads the perfume of flowers? ’Tis Wind;
What makes the rain-clouds advance far? ’Tis Wind.
What makes the Wind to blow? ’Tis God;
What makes a Tempest stop? ’ Tis our Lord.
7-18-2001
poem by John Celes
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Broken
You can close your eyes
And see a picture perfect life
Inside of your mind
Dreaming only of the days ahead
Wanted and wished for more than now
Or the days behind
You waste your time
The picture makes a promise
The flesh lets it be broken
The picture makes a promise
The flesh lets it be broken
You can never think
You cant even stop yourself
Before the words have been spoken
And youve already said
You would give everything
And something for nothing
Everybody thinks youre joking
The picture makes a promise
The flesh lets it be broken
The picture makes a promise
The flesh lets it be broken
You want to be the one
Made over be your own
Before and after
And a supermarket
Beauty in a bottle queen
Wholl one day grace a check-out counter
Magazine front cover
Though the fine print reads
The picture makes a promise
The flesh lets it be broken
The picture makes a promise
The flesh lets it be broken
Lets it be broken
Lets it be broken
Lets it be broken
Lets it be broken
Lets it be broken
Broken
Broken
When your life is never what you wanted
Not even halfway normal
Just tarnished and soiled
When in your reach
A framed and frozen moment
So far from perfection
Not truth or transcendence
Will set you free
Still you dont believe
The picture makes a promise
The flesh lets it be broken
The picture makes a promise
The flesh lets it be broken
song performed by by Tracy Chapman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Flower-School
When storm-clouds rumble in the sky and June showers come down.
The moist east wind comes marching over the heath to blow its
bagpipes among the bamboos.
Then crowds of flowers come out of a sudden, from nobody knows
where, and dance upon the grass in wild glee.
Mother, I really think the flowers go to school underground.
They do their lessons with doors shut, and if they want to
come out to play before it is time, their master makes them stand
in a corner.
When the rain come they have their holidays.
Branches clash together in the forest, and the leaves rustle
in the wild wind, the thunder-clouds clap their giant hands and the
flower children rush out in dresses of pink and yellow and white.
Do you know, mother, their home is in the sky, where the stars
are.
Haven't you see how eager they are to get there? Don't you
know why they are in such a hurry?
Of course, I can guess to whom they raise their arms; they
have their mother as I have my own.
poem by Rabindranath Tagore
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Pink Pink
pink pink
Confirmed that it was armed
pink pink
Was right to be alarmed
pink pink
Ensured that nought was harmed
pnk pink
Steady hand and mind
pink pink
Micro-chip designed
pink pink
The password was declined
pink pink
Another course to take
pink pink
Caution not to shake
pink pink
Captivity a mistake
pink pink
Beads upon the brow
pink pink
Experience the how
pink pink
No chance to turn back now
pink pink
Be certain not to slip
pink pink
One last wire to snip
pink pink
Two hearts that skip a beat
penk penk
The sound that gives a lift
penk penk
Time to collect the gift
penk penk
The robbery will be swift
poem by Chris Dawson
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The Sounds, Within And Without
have you ever listened
to the sounds of
a young boy praying
after his father and mother
have split up
have you heard the sound
a small animal makes when
it's hit by a car?
kinda like the sound a child makes
when it's split open by friendly fire!
have you felt the deep down
sound the young boy makes
when the judge sentences him
to hard time
the sound you cant see on his face
have you heard the sound
of the old man's heart
fighting to hold on
in an empty room
with the curtains pulled
have you ever heard the sound
of the wolf's howl, and
the hawk's scree
buried deep beneath
the layers that cover
your own wildness
are you listening
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It Makes Me Happy, To Be With You
It makes me happy, to be with you.
To watch you smile and hear you speak
and see your eyes turn softly warm,
makes me happy to be with you.
It makes me happy, to be with you.
To watch you spreading jam and butter
on your home made scones,
makes me happy to be with you.
It makes me happy, to be with you.
To be able to put my arms around you
and draw you gently close to me,
makes me happy to be with you.
And it makes me happy, to be with you
when holding your cheek close to mine,
breathing the warmth of you
and feeling the warmth of you
soaking quietly through me,
makes my breath tremble in my chest.
You make me happy to be with you.
poem by Red O'Mara
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A poetic exile
What is there to berate
Life—for: Why equate
It has not any meaning..?
Every sap that's shelled-out
The husk, longs further, seeding.
"Every breath a water-spout
Leaps into death, pupate.
And is yet, still, dreaming...
Of the wings of perfection",
Too fulfil life's passion.
The gift of love's pre-emption...
poem by Mark Heathcote
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There's Glory In Your Story
I felt alone
I put on my new shoes and hit the town
I still felt alone
I'm convinced everyone's built to be put down
I had to say (I had to say)
What I wanted to say (what I wanted to say)
I had to say (what I wanted to say)
Where are you going to stay?
I felt alone
Independence Day comes when you're down
Still felt alone
Ten times I thought I almost found you
Sometimes simple chords are the best
The simple approach is the best if
It makes more sense than any other
It makes more sense than any other
I felt alone
I felt bleak - knocked me to the ground
I still felt alone
My attempts at chivalry fell without a sound
I felt alone
So put on your new shoes and leave this town
Still felt alone
I'm convinced, everyone's built to be put down
The simple chords are the best
Sometimes the simple approach is the best if
It makes more sense than any other
It makes more sense than any other
song performed by by Idlewild
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Falling To Pieces
Back and forth, I sway with the wind
Resolution slips away again
Right through my fingers, back into my heart
Where its out of reach and its in the dark
Sometimes I think Im blind
Or I may be just paralyzed
Because the plot thickens every day
And the pieces of my puzzle keep crumblin away
But I know, theres a picture beneath
Indecision clouds my vision
No one listens...
Because Im somewhere in between
My love and my agony
You see, Im somewhere in between
My life is falling to pieces
Somebody put me together
Layin face down on the ground
My fingers in my ears to block the sound
My eyes shut tight to avoid the sight
Anticipating the end, losing the will to fight
Droplets of yes and no
In an ocean of maybe
From the bottom, it looks like a steep incline
From the top, another downhill slope of mine
But I know, the equilibriums there
Indecision clouds my vision
No one listens
Because Im somewhere in between
My love and my agony
You see, Im somewhere in between
My life is falling to pieces
Somebody put me together
song performed by by Faith No More
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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401
this summer she wears her pink kimono
and she will walk under the pink blossoms of the pink sakura
she will carry a pink umbrella
and she will cross the pink bridge of kokoma
pink leaves on her feet
pink fingernails on her pink wooden shoes
in honor of her love
that never bloomed to complete red
she will sit on a pink bench
praying for pink clouds to drift
on the pink skies.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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