Eyes Deep
flighty windswept raven hair and
eyes deep
like black rudimentary soil,
mischievous, wildroot dimples,
lips full of the harvest moon…
O child of the weathered earth and the feathered sky,
you speak to me in tumultuous,
windblown words jittering with sentiment…
I dance and swirl in dirt and breeze
crying to the Heavens to let me
discover you.
Related quotes
Harvest Moon (live)
Come a little bit closer, hear what I have to say
Just like the children sleeping, we could dance the sun away
But there's a full moon risin', let's go dancin' in the night
We know where the music's playin', let's go out and feel the night
Because I'm still in love with you
I want to see you dance again
Because I'm still in love with you
On this harvest moon
When we were strangers, I watched you from afar
Then we were lovers, I love you with all my heart
But now it's getting late, and the moon is climbing high
I want to celabrate, see it shining in your eyes
Because I'm still in love with you
I want to see you dance again
Because I'm still in love with you
On this harvest moon
Because I'm still in love with you
I want to see you dance again
Because I'm still in love with you
On this harvest moon
song performed by by Elliott Smith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Look At Me!
Look at me!
Go ahead.
Look at me.
I only exist...
To have your eyes on my lips,
Legs, butt and thighs.
Wherever you decide to probe.
And...
From my head to my toes,
You analyze regardless of my discomfort felt.
I only exist...
For you to criticize.
Look at me!
As if to read a book you skim through quickly.
To find if there is dirt to discover,
Smothered under the surface.
And not fresh dirt.
You like your dirt old and moldy.
Look at me!
Look at me to examine each hair I have.
And where that hair is,
On my path as I pass.
Look at me!
And if your findings should disappoint...
I am sure,
Something that is not there to see...
Will be!
If you have anything to do with it!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dance Quickly Now
-
Dance, I said to the boy in the glass
Staring back at me with a darkening mask
Dance, I begged, with love and pain
Dance, please dance, oh dance again
-
Dance with the moon in the child’s eye
Circling the middle as black as coal
Dance quickly now, its leaving soon
Light of the moon and the child’s soul
Dance with the sun in the child’s laugh
Bouncing round off sinister things
Dance quickly now, with crystal prism
Scattering wisdom, melting wings
Dance with the rain in the child’s tear
Watching the clouds attack then stop
Dance quickly now, the storm has shattered
All that mattered, with a single drop
Dance with the hope in his stuttered speech
Holding it close for a later year
Dance quickly now, before he serves
Nonsense words, in a busted mirror
-
Though the moon may spin and the sun revolve
Though love still waits and the rain still falls
Though the child may laugh he glares inside
Exhaling life with a sudden sigh
-
poem by Ben Paynter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Harvest Moon
the yellow moon,
the colour that i could never get right
in my art class
well who can
it is never really yellow
and when you add white
it loses its luminosity
full moon
well when it is full
it is never round
if you look casually at it
it bulges at one side
with a tiny star twinkling at its side
a little child crying to be carried
but who cares except the round moon
poetic moon as poets would write
whether it is or not
the little child that would soften their poem
never given its recognition
lazy bones are always copycats
and they get the world messed up
with their inaccuracies, self conceitness
the moon,
the next door amateur witch
gives it a dose of evil
chanting archaic verses for a love charm, bag of luck
and a spirit in the wild
the moon that boosts my spirit
with its innocent roundness, a softness of a girl's buttock
maternal's light, and the ways it slims, fattens, slims, wanes
signs itself in and out of the sky
inspired by
The Harvest Moon
The flame-red moon, the harvest moon,
Rolls along the hills, gently bouncing,
A vast balloon,
Till it takes off, and sinks upward
To lie on the bottom of the sky, like a gold doubloon.
The harvest moon has come,
Booming softly through heaven, like a bassoon.
And the earth replies all night, like a deep drum.
So people can't sleep,
So they go out where elms and oak trees keep
A kneeling vigil, in a religious hush.
The harvest moon has come!
And all the moonlit cows and all the sheep
Stare up at her petrified, while she swells
Filling heaven, as if red hot, and sailing
Closer and closer like the end of the world.
Till the gold fields of stiff wheat
Cry `We are ripe, reap us! ' and the rivers
Sweat from the melting hills.
Ted Hughes
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Black Moon
Oh the devil is rising with the moon
He cries and my blood runs cold.
Oh no never was the darkness so black,
No light and nowhere to go.
My spirit is crying for a love
So tired of being alone.
I remember he came here to steal,
And you are his stealer of souls.
I see a black moon rising,
And its calling out my name.
Oh its calling my name.
Ive been blinded, lost and confused,
Darkness will call me no more.
Heaven is no friend of mine,
No God ever knocked on my door.
I see a black moon rising,
And its calling out my name.
Oh its calling my name.
Im standing on the dark side of time
Reaching for the power of her hand.
Shes weaving an unholy light
And calls from lucifers land.
I see a black moon rising,
And its calling out my name.
An angel of hell is rising,
Heavens no friend of mine.
I see a black moon rising,
And its calling out my name,
I see a black moon rising,
And it causes so much pain.
An angel of hell is rising,
Heavens no friend of mine.
I see a black moon rising,
And its calling out my name.
Its calling my name,
This spirits crying for love.
Heavens no friend of mine.
song performed by by Black Sabbath
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Remember Raven
Aah! ooh!
Aah! ooh!
While youre busy trying to conjure dirt upon me,
Your ponys sucked dry by an african bee.
The muck you rake is not enough to keep your turd at sea,
Remember the raven,
Remember the raven.
While your busy trying to weigh your power,
Your boats getting into fast water.
Lifes going down the river of no return,
Remember raven,
Remember raven.
Dont try to be a warden to history,
While trying to find a seat for your posterity.
You better tend your garden for your family.
Remember raven,
Remember raven.
Judas never got the key to heaven, you know.
Raven, raven, remember raven,
Remember raven.
Raven, raven, remember raven,
Remember raven.
Raven, raven, raven.
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Black raven, White dove
When it's black,
Like the raven,
The well is full, but full of what?
My sun is shining in a half pale burst,
With toxic, red hot guilt
And as if in stark contrast,
The white dove just hits home-
And its what I've always wanted alive,
But then when I give some brainpower,
I decide that maybe it could be dead-
And it took the black to show it.
But then the black of the raven,
So beautifully stunning,
I look at her and all I see,
Is the storm in her eyes,
And the dove
Should be crying
For it doesn't know
That my white heart is dying
Replaced by the black of the right
"Home is where the heart is"
Then my home's firmly with the white,
It's where I've lived,
For six months past,
And I feel like I belong
I feel like I am home there
But then I see,
Cupid's stupid decree-
With one black wing and one white,
But which is wrong?
Which right?
But is the dove ever going to surrender?
Wave its' flag and give in to the raven?
Cause the raven's a-pecking,
And so far she's winning,
And with a fight,
And a laboratory,
The boy of white has slim chance of winning.
Cause now that it's out,
I'm secretly devout,
So secretly, darkly obsessed,
With the black of the girl,
And the light blue of the raven's eye,
But then its' always been white,
The dove the keeper of my heart,
Cause I found the dove lost,
With clips in his wings,
And I tried to set him free
I showed all that he belonged to me
And he's the one who set me free,
My first and ever pet,
The first one I've wanted to be with-
Forever.
And the dove's innocent eyes,
And repeated cries,
Made me overlook the fact he can't fly,
But I'm not going to feed him,
All of his food,
He needs to live on his own too so he won't die
But could the raven ever be-
Just with me?
Even if the raven is more beautiful,
How does she know,
And how do I?
That she won't kill me,
That we won't die.
So used to the dove,
The raven's so new,
And there's so much evidence of some grey hue-
An ever-waging war,
Of black and white,
An ever-waging war,
Of wrong and right,
The dove or the raven,
Only you can decide,
The dove or the raven,
The tone that is inside.
poem by Ally Gunther
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Am A Raven
I am a raven
Freer than a breeze
Beholding to no one
Doing what I please
I am a raven
Watch me fly
Aeries are for eagles
Not me!
Don’t ask me why
I am a raven
Eating what I please
Sleep anywhere I want
Have no one to appease
I am a raven
You’d better let me by
I’m a bit combative
Might pluck out an eye
I am a raven
Better left alone
Unless inclined to marry
Have ravens of mine own
I am a raven
Feathers black as coal
Robbery my stock in trade
So stay clear
Or I may steal your soul
poem by Ray Lucero
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bulletin
FoOlisH sCiEnCe
Go To SlEep
FoReVeR
tHe UbIqUiToUs NiGhT
iS FuLl Of ScReAmS
iT iS rAiNiNg oN fLoWeRs.
BuLlEtIn:
ThE KeYs To HeAvEn HaVe BeEn LoSt On EaRtH.
iF tHe MoOn Is PoWeR tHe RaVeN (sNoW) iS
DaRkNeSs.
RoAr Of ThE lIoN aNd ThE gEnTlE lAmB
wHo WiLl WiN
sAiD a ChIlD oF nOwHeRe
ThE lIlAcS iN hEr HaIr.
poem by M.L. Squier
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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As You Leave Me
Shiny record albums scattered over
the living room floor, reflecting light
from the lamp, sharp reflections that hurt
my eyes as I watch you, squatting among the platters,
the beer foam making mustaches on your lips.
And, too,
the shadows on your cheeks from your long lashes
fascinate me--almost as much as the dimples
in your cheeks, your arms and your legs.
You
hum along with Mathis--how you love Mathis!
with his burnished hair and quicksilver voice that dances
among the stars and whirls through canyons
like windblown snow, sometimes I think that Mathis
could take you from me if you could be complete
without me. I glance at my watch. It is now time.
You rise,
silently, and to the bedroom and the paint;
on the lips red, on the eyes black,
and I lean in the doorway and smoke, and see you
grow old before my eyes, and smoke, why do you
chatter while you dress? and smile when you grab
your large leather purse? don't you know that when you leave me
I walk to the window and watch you? and light
a reefer as I watch you? and I die as I watch you
disappear in the dark streets
to whistle and smile at the johns
Submitted by Hen
poem by Etheridge Knight
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ebony Princess
Her hair was as black as the calm of the night
And was as black and as dark as I could see
Her body slowly moved like a bird in flight
I saw her, and I was overwhelmed by her beauty.
Her eyes they shined like a full moon glistened
And her smile was that of a new day sun
My soul before her was locked away in prison
And releasing that key, it had already begun.
Her skin was as soft as the finest silk
And her lips they tempted me with their mystery
Her teeth they sparkled and was white as milk
And her skin, was the color of ebony.
I looked at her and then my look became a stare
She became my muse and also my destiny
Her skin was dark and black was her hair
Then she whispered in my ear, "Don't forget me".
"Don't Forget me", she whispered those words to me
And like a raven with secrets she went away
With her skin so soft and the color of ebony
I pray again that we would meet again one day.
Her name forever is locked inside of my heart
And it will be lost, until to God her name I will confess
Until then if any man asks me who was the beauty of my art
My answer will be, my sweet and beautiful ebony princess.
RANDY L. McCLAVE
poem by Randy McClave
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Harvest Moon
Come a little bit closer
Hear what I have to say
Just like children sleepin
We could dream this night away.
But theres a full moon risin
Lets go dancin in the light
We know where the musics playin
Lets go out and feel the night.
Because Im still in love with you
I want to see you dance again
Because Im still in love with you
On this harvest moon.
When we were strangers
I watched you from afar
When we were lovers
I loved you with all my heart.
But now its gettin late
And the moon is climbin high
I want to celebrate
See it shinin in your eye.
Because Im still in love with you
I want to see you dance again
Because Im still in love with you
On this harvest moon.
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Raven's Feather
I stand by a tree,
the sky is grey,
and all I can see,
is a feather gone stray.
A feather as black as night,
floats gently through light,
through the fissures of life,
cutting through me like a scythe.
Looking down at me is a raven,
like the expanse of the heavens, no craven,
his eyes as deep as the abyss,
making me wonder if I even exist.
The feather drops like black water,
to the earth, turning it to fodder.
It haunts me, never leaving,
eternally eroding and deceiving.
poem by Soren Valentine
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Witches' Glen - An Auld Tale
Gather aroon the ingle nuek
For ae eerie tale I'll tell -
'Boot a glen whar a witchy spook
Cast folk in her terrible spell.
Her hair sae black, her eyes sae green
Black Meg she was the devil's queen.
Warlocks an witches dance at night
When the full-moon turns its ken!
Thunder rides on a bolt of light
The deil's in the witches' glen!
Her hair sae black, her eyes sae green
Black Meg she was the devil's queen.
Auld trees hang o'er the twisted wynd
An' blot oot the licht o' day;
An there, there's staring eyes tae find
A stranger wha's lost their way.
Her hair sae black, her eyes sae green
Black Meg she was the devil's queen.
Frae Grennan wood she hailed an flew
A flash thru the black night wind
Come witchin hour everyin knew
She'd get a' the folks wha sinned.
Her hair sae black, her eyes sae green
Black Meg she was the devil's queen.
They burned her on Kirkmaiden hill
An' they bound her on a stake:
She chanted spells that made 'em ill
An' they pray'd for Jesus' sake.
Her hair sae black, her eyes sae green
Black Meg she was the devil's queen.
When ere ye walk the witches' glen,
Whar branches stretch oot like hands
Tak' Bible, cross an' say, Amen!
An' heed the guid Lord's commands.
Her hair sae black, her eyes sae green
Black Meg she's still there tae be seen.
poem by Patrick Scott Hogg
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Mikazuki
Hair as black as the night sky
Eyes as dark as a raven
Never did she cry
Nobody asks why
She is full of lies
She is a murderer
poem by Mikazuki Vashino
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Inspired by Issa-Harvest Moon
harvest moon -
for the sacrecrow
a deep last bow
harvest moon -
the scarecrow orchestrates
an empty field
inspired by
harvest moon-
tonight even you
are busy!
-Issa,1810
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Story Of Nevermore
now I cast a hypnotic spell
to free a child from her hell
surrender now child fall deep in my spell
just come to me child and all will be well
rise now child in sleep you now come
walk now child thought your scenes stay numb
fall now child in to a peaceful dream
but nothing there is as it seems
even thought child in you dream all is right
really your body walks still throw the night
relax now child let that dream ease your mind
follow now child let my voice be your guild
don’t worry child my intentions are pure
you’ll be happy with me of that I am sure
I’m just so tired of being alone
I want a child all of my own
so sleepwalk now child to the pull of my charm
sleepwalk to me child you’ll be safe in my arms
nevermore child shall you cry out in pain
your old life will be lost but a new one will be gained
sleepwalk to me child you’ll be my daughter soon
find your way to me child by the light of the moon
sleepwalk to me child and I’ll show you my ways
all the things I can show you; you’ll be amazed
sleepwalk to me child your almost here
come to me child soon all will be clear
sleepwalk to me child come meet your new mom
soon the whole world will rest in your palm
I see you now child I have you in sight
I run to you child now all is right
your eyes are dazed child unseeing and blank
I can see you now child what a great daughter you’ll make
come to me child collapse in my arms
come to me child you’re safe now from harm
I hold you now child and cradle you close to my heart
I hum to you child as I carry you throw the dark
were home now dear child far from all you ones knew
were home now dear child only one thing left to do
I made this child a special potion just for you
and with it your life begins anew
drink this now child and let your past slip away
remember not one second not one moment or one day
your eyes close child as I release you from my spell
in conciseness you do not dwell
back in to slumber you fall ever so deep
I love how innocent you look in sleep
a new name you need child to mark your new life
you need a new name as you exist the light
your name is Nevermore My child Raven Nevermore
a name like none ever heard before
you are Raven Nevermore
a young witch of great power to explore
you are Raven Nevermore
my daughter now and evermore
poem by Raven Nevermore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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238
i teach my child by G. Abad
I.
I teach my child
To survive.
I begin with our words,
The simple words first
And last.
They are hardest to learn.
Words like home,
Or friend, or to forgive.
These words are relations.
They are difficult to bear;
Their fruits are unseen.
Or words that promise
Or dream.
Words like honor, or certainty,
Or cheer.
Rarest of sound,
Their roots run deep;
These are words that aspire,
They cast no shade.
These are not words
To speak.
These are the words
Of which we consist,
Indefinite,
Without other ground.
II.
My child
Is without syllables
To utter him,
Captive yet to his origin
In silence.
By every word
To rule his space,
He is released;
He is shaped by his speech.
Every act, too,
Is first without words.
There's no rehearsal
To adjust your deed
From direction of its words.
The words are given,
But there's no script.
Their play is hidden,
We are their stage.
These are the words
That offer to our care
Both sky and earth,
These same words
That may elude our acts.
If we speak them
But cannot meet their sound,
They strand us still
In our void,
Blank like the child
With the uphill silence
Of his words' climb.
And so,
I teach my child
To survive.
I begin with our words,
The simple words first
And last.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Black Autumn
Comes the cold, black, wake of autumn,
harbouring its' pique on naked limb;
damp, feral winds astir
to the stalking, hawking,
and hideous squawking...
of ominous, impetuous birds;
large and intrusively pestilent,
inexorabally circling,
'neath the late day shadows
of a cold november sunfall.
And the crows of Autumn, wear angry eyes,
the kind you felt on the back of your neck
when you read Edgar Allan's ''Raven''.
Teasing the breeze-spun tumbleweeds,
as they roll over cornfields... spewing-
threads and shard of stick, and husk,
gaunt signs of a harvest dying.
Clouds bleed deep sage, and drape
over the foreboding presence
of these dark-winged beasts in flock,
fecklessly searching for any sign
that autumn had not yet abandoned them.
Dark and black, blackest black, hovering,
over the last man standing,
in this smoke-dry field,
rigidly stationed with stoic poise,
donned in spirited, tattered plaid,
guardian of the harvest,
protector of the field,
intrepidly perched over its cornucopia
of waning autumntide-offerings.
Thus, hanging upon six feet of wood
stands the Scarecrow,
weathered, yet sturdy,
in a pose of crucifixion.
And, the taunting begins,
with a strident kick of breeze,
as the crows fly low, in arrowed flank,
with bitter, and arrogance-
their Autumn slipping away.
Swooping to the gust of a winter prelude,
obsessively circling, their black eyes gleaming,
the strawman succumbs
to a wind-flounced dance,
and to the evil delight of its menacing prey,
while Wind choirs strond...in loud soprano
like high-pitched fifes on air.
And Autumn dies colourless;
bare, brittle in burial.
No Death Hymn be sung
as winter seals its casket.
And the crows, cold and jaded,
fly away as they came,
wreak havoc south of cotton
untill the April month -
when melting ice unveils
fresh buds on lonesome branches
of a Spring awaiting breath,
and hence, they come again
once again...and stay they will
'til the next black Autumn.
poem by Frank James Ryan Jr.
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dance of a god
Life is beating the Ayara-Ekomo drum-
And I am dancing like the priestess of the river
possessed by the mermaid spirit of Anansa-
Even the Sun rises to applaud my passion
Fate has cooked for me- the black soup-
I lick it with the zest of a starved child
I run from the statues of my negriscent
that sing to me the songs of the spirits
and expect me to dance the dance of the dead
I run as far as I can under those hunting eyes of the night
through the thicket of the gathering spirits of the forest.
I can fall to the ground like a Yoruba man
to salute the full moon that illuminates my escape path
The daunting drum-beats of life blends with
the crying drums and wailing flutes of my native land
and the music of a sun-heated people fill my ears-
And like a funeral-dance in a wake-keeping
I am demanded to tap to the depressing melody
.
But I dance the dance of a god.