Shiatsu
soft light
tinkling water
linen white futon
her thumbs walk
cat-like along
my resistance
body yields
mind opens
timeless tranquility
*for Mary Ingram with thanks
poem by Alison Cassidy
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Related quotes
9 Miles On A Dirty Futon
I spent nine miles with her.
in a cheap apartment.
Boxed wine and cheeses with exotic sounding names.
Eaten on a blanket on the floor as we had no table.
we had no couch,
we had no television.
But we had music.
At night we would lay on a futon matress
that layed on the floor.
The streetlight outside the bedroom window playing shadows across sections of her.
First her eyes were lit, the rest of her awash in shadows,
then,
when she turned,
her mouth was visible,
but her eyes were shadowed.
A breast, a thigh, her hair all illuminated
then darkened
according to her movments.
Sometimes she would lie on her back and light a cigarette.
Her whole face would light with the flash of the lighter,
like hand held lightining,
then darken again.
We would talk for hours on that futon,
I don't remember what was said...
I remember her in pieces of light and shadow.
When she smoked the light would turn the smoke in to a slow
languid serpent
escaping from her body through her mouth and nose.
I have never seen anyone smoke like that before or since.
Her face half lit by the streetlight.
She would speak and the words would drift out of her
entwined with the smoke.
She smoked like Garbo.
slow and seductive.
9 years with her and all my memories are of shadows, soft sodium streetlights, and orange cigarette glow.
9 years with her and all I remember are the lights and shadows
across her body.
On that futon matress
on the floor.
poem by Brevet Wilson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Beautiful Passion
i watch beauty take a walk one morning
by the sea as she undresses herself and begins
to carry her body to the calm waters
where she plunges herself
and in a moment she rises combing
her wet hair with her soft fingers
as she closes her eyes and
raises her head to the glorious light of the sun
she gets out of the water her breasts
in slow motion protruding to the direction
of her firm nipples as drops of water drip
down her tall and white body of
this woman who says she loves me too.
i am awed and speechless and i thank God
for this beautiful passion
his greatest creation that now i can touch and feel
and live with for all the days of my life.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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On My Futon
My futon...
Go ahead and lay your head on it.
Go ahead and rest a bit.
You'll get a benefit of this.
My futon...
Go ahead and lay your head on it.
Go ahead and rest a bit.
You'll feel a benefit of this.
Get off your feet,
On my futon.
Get some sleep,
On my futon.
Be at peace,
On my futon...
That peace you need to keep!
Get off your feet,
On my futon.
Get some sleep,
On my futon.
Be at peace,
On my futon...
That peace you need to keep!
My futon...
Go ahead and lay your head on it.
Go ahead and rest up a bit.
And,
You will feel relieved!
On my futon...
Go ahead and lay your head on it.
Go ahead and rest up a bit.
And,
You will feel relieved!
Get off your feet,
On my futon.
Get some sleep,
On my futon.
Be at peace,
On my futon...
That peace you need to keep!
On my futon...
Go ahead and lay your head on it.
Go ahead and rest up a bit.
And,
You will feel relieved!
On my futon!
And,
You will feel relieved!
On my futon!
And,
You will feel relieved!
On my futon...
Go ahead and lay your head on it.
And,
You will feel relieved...
And mellowed.
On my futon...
Go ahead and lay your head on it.
Go ahead and rest up a bit.
And,
You will feel relieved...
And mellowed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Can I Dry Clean?
washing the clean linen in dirty water,
makes the clothes to be dirty and colored,
white clothe will invite the color of contrast,
color of the water that it is dipped into.
When we think of the ills and manipulate with evils,
the souls that are born white, will be colored,
when we wash the evil thoughts in evil solutions,
our souls will be soiled, colored and in illusion.
believing the color that we possess is the brightest,
If it is the brightest of white, as white is pure,
then it is all right, even if we are in other colors,
don't worry, it can be bleached to white.
White and black are two extreme colors,
with extreme characters and properties,
when the white reflects everything as good actions,
the black absorbs everything as the mother nature.
Between these two colors,
there are thousands of colors,
blending of seven colors of rain bow,
where we live and be happy and sorrow.
Washing the clean linen of any color,
in the water of dirt and sediment,
will make the linen dirty and soiled,
Where shall we find the clean water,
to wash our dirty souls of multiple colors?
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mary, Mary
Words and music by michael nesmith
Mary, mary, where you goin to?
Mary, mary, can I go too.
This one thing I will vow ya,
Id rather die than to live without ya.
Mary, mary, where you goin to?
Mary, mary, tell me truly
What did I do to make you leave me.
Whatever it was I didnt mean to,
You know I never would try and hurt ya.
Mary, mary, where you goin to?
What more, mary, can I do
To prove my love is truly yours?
Ive done more now than a clear-thinkin man would do.
Mary, mary, its not over.
Where you go, I will follow.
til I win your love again
And walk beside you,
But until then.
Mary, mary, where you goin to?
Mary, mary, where you goin to?
Mary, where you goin to?
Mary, mary, mary, mary, mary, where you goin to?
[repeat adlib]
song performed by by Monkees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet III: Turn to Yon Vale Beneath
Turn to yon vale beneath, whose tangled shade
Excludes the blazing torch of noon-day light,
Where sportive Fawns, and dimpled Loves invite,
The bow'r of Pleasure opens to the glade:
Lull'd by soft flutes, on leaves of violets laid,
There witching beauty greets the ravish'd sight,
More gentle than the arbitress of night
In all her silv'ry panoply array'd!
The birds breathe bliss! light zephyrs kiss the ground,
Stealing the hyacinth's divine perfume;
While from the pellucid fountains glitt'ring round,
Small tinkling rills bid rival flow'rets bloom!
HERE, laughing Cupids bathe the bosom's wound;
THERE, tyrant passion finds a glorious tomb!
poem by Mary Darby Robinson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Stepping Into Something New This Summer
white sea spreading before me
so silky
tiny ripples of the wind
from a far
bringing some stories
from the other island
some leaves fall from
the pitogo tree
some flowers pink and white
lay on the shore
white sands of silence
and peace
soft whispers of the winds
seeping in my skin
i am barefoot
i am naked down to the waist
i am waiting
for the sun to descend upon the bosom
of the horizon
i am dreaming of palm trees
soft winds
of summer
a door opens in my mind
i get in
stepping into something new this summer
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Actualis
There was a strange carnality
in flowing robes,
a waiver penetrates
in incorporeal ellipse.
I must speak of him in his absence
combating for the actuality.
Knowing lust manifolds,
yields a prayer,
primrose opens the eyes.
The knowledge liberating -
you cross the inlets.
Anxiety peels off your mind.
An obnoxious presence of unbeings,
the weeds, the vocal generation
of priests, are anything but art.
The body blooms, in suicidal note.
Birds shriek, before the moon climbs
on the dark trees. I let go the orange,
only the white spreads.
poem by Satish Verma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mary Jane
Now when I go to work, I work all day,
Always turns out the same.
When I bring home my hard-earned pay
I spend my money all on mary jane.
Mary jane, mary jane, lord, my mary jane.
Oh if a man should look tame now, mean and mature,
They all turn out the same.
cause they cant do nothing to make a man feel good
Like my old mary jane.
Mary jane, mary jane, lord, my mary jane.
Now I walk in the street now lookin for a friend
One that can lend me some change.
And he never questions my reason why,
cause he too loves mary jane.
Mary jane, mary jane, lord, my mary jane.
Well, I have known women that wanted no man,
Some that wanted to stay.
But I never knew what happened in this world
Till I met up with mary jane,
Mary jane, mary jane, lord my mary jane.
Oh, when Im feelin lonesome and Im feelin blue,
Theres only one way to change.
Now I walk down the street now lookin for a man,
One that knows my mary jane,
Mary jane, mary jane, lord my mary jane.
song performed by by Janis Joplin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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That Body Of Water Is Mine
That body of water is mine now
Because God gave it to me
So that I could swim
In that body of water
But he said that I am not allowed
To let the boats in
The body of water
Because that would pollute the water
And he wants to have
That body of water protected
And I told God that I was going to do that
By declaring that body of water
A natural habitat for marine life
God had answered me back by saying
That would be a wonderful Idea
And I was pleased by his answer
poem by Aldo Kraas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Walk On Water
(ian hunter/mcnasty)
(transcribed by justin purington)
Little flame tormented soul
Tried to get lost in all that rock and roll
Came crashing through here like some hurricane
Too much too soon for you little flame
[chorus]
You cant walk on water
You cant walk on water, dont try
Like a lamb to the slaughter
Oh! but for the grace of God go i
Little flame caught that savage sound
He liked to turn it upside down
Well I think I know what you were talking about
Im just so sorry that your flame went out
Fun with no conscience, tracks with no tears
The rich get richer and the devils got no fears
Sounds his call, political lies
There aint no virtue without sacrifice
You cant walk on water
You cant walk on water
You cant walk on water
You cant walk on water
You cant walk on water
You cant walk on water
You cant walk on
[repeat and fade]
song performed by by Ian Hunter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
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A Journey Beyond Death
Pranab k c
08/2011
So nervous were my eyes
when I saw my body lied in sleep
A sweet and soft moonlight everywhere
from ocean to mountain
from meadows to graveyard
walls, roof and floor are out of existence
a light soft and sweet flowing everywhere
So nervous was my memory
can't recollect the finest tune of life
I heard so long ago before my death
can't recollect
Yet alive I was but just out of me
the body in deep sleep and I
flying without feather everywhere
from ditch to dense
from narrow to wide
no heaven, no hell
only sweet and soft light white
everywhere, in every inch of all the imagery...
poem by Pranab K. Chakraborty
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mary Mary Magdalene
Mary Mary Magdalene,
what do all those stories mean?
Mary, Mary, is it true,
Jesus had a thing for you?
Mary, Mary – He lay with you?
Mary, Mary, tell me true
Mary, Mary, red hair wild,
did He leave you great with child?
Mary, was your love so steady,
that you had had His kids already?
Mary, Mary, at the Cross,
did it feel a gain or loss?
Mary, Mary – on that third day,
what was it like with the stone rolled away?
Mary, Mary, running there with love,
what did you think when He rose above?
Mary, Mary – what was it like, after?
Were there tears or joyful laughter?
Mary, Mary – the kids you had –
did they turn out like their Dad?
Mary, Mary, whore redeemed,
did it work out like you dreamed?
Mary, Mary – your afterlife –
was it mostly love, or mostly strife?
Mary, Mary, were you worshipped or despised
As Mary’s daughter-in-law, Mrs. Christ?
Mary, Mary, did you stay,
or feel you had to take the kids away?
Mary, Mary, with so much love,
did you, too, rise to heaven above?
Mary, Mary, in the sky,
all we ask are the reasons why…
Mary, Mary Magdalene,
What is really true? What does it really mean?
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Walkin The Dog
Mary mac, dressed in black
Silver buttons up and down her crack
I know, cause I love her so
She-a broke a needle
Now she cant sew
Walkin the dog
Im just a-walkin your dog
Well if you dont know how to do it
Ill show you how to walk your dog
Ask yo mama for a-fifteen cents
To see the elephant jump the fence
It jumped so high, touched the sky
Didnt come back till the fourth of july
Walkin the dog
Im just a-walkin your dog
Well if you dont know how to do it
Ill show you how to walk your dog
Mary mary, quite contrary
How does your garden grow
Well, well, silver bells
And little bitty bitty white shells
Pretty maids all in a row
Walkin your dog
Im just a-walkin your dog
Well if you dont know how to do it
Ill show you how to walk your dog
Well if you dont know how to do it
Ill show you how to walk your dog
Well if you dont know how to do it
Ill show you how to walk your dog
song performed by by Aerosmith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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White Sea
white sea spreading before me
so silky
tiny ripples of the wind
from a far
bringing some stories
from the other island
some leaves fall from
the pitogo tree
some flowers pink and white
lay on the shore
white sands of silence
and peace
seeping in my skin
i am barefoot
i am naked down to the waist
i am waiting
for the sun to descend upon the bosom
of the horizon
i am dreaming of palm trees
soft winds
of summer
a door opens in my mind
i get in
stepping into something new
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lovely One
Lovely one,
Just as on the cool stone
Of the spring, the water
Opens a wide flash of foam,
So is the smile of your face,
Lovely one.
Lovely one,
With delicate hands and slender feet
Like a silver pony,
Walking, flower of the world,
Thus I see you,
Lovely one.
Lovely one,
With a nest of copper entangled
On your head, a nest
The coloUr of dark honey
Where my heart burns and rests,
Lovely one.
Lovely one,
Your eyes are too big for your face,
Your eyes are too big for the earth.
There are countries, there are rivers,
In your eyes,
My country is your eyes,
I walk through them,
They light the world
Through which I walk,
Lovely one.
Lovely one,
Your breasts are like two loaves made
Of grainy earth and golden moon,
Lovely one.
Lovely one,
Your waist,
My arm shaped it like a river when
It flowed a thousand years through your sweet body,
Lovely one.
Lovely one,
There is nothing like your hips,
Perhaps earth has
In some hidden place
The curve and the fragrance of your body,
Perhaps in some place,
Lovely one.
Lovely one, my lovely one,
Your voice, your skin, your nails,
Lovely one, my lovely one,
Your being, your light, your shadow,
Lovely one,
All that is mine, lovely one,
All that is mine, my dear,
When you walk or rest,
When you sing or sleep,
When you suffer or dream,
Always,
When you are near or far,
Always,
You are mine, my lovely one,
Always.
poem by Pablo Neruda
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Don't Waste Your Time
[Mary]
Lately I've got this funny feeling
Something don't feel the same
But he's telling me I'm the one to blame
Yes I know that he still gives me good loving
But when he's deep inside
There's somebody else on his mind
[1] - [Aretha] Don't waste your time
[Mary] But it gets so hard to know
[Aretha] Just walk away
[Mary] You say that I gotta let go
[Both] Seen it a millions times before
[Aretha] You shouldn't take his stuff no more
[Mary] Can't waste my time
[Aretha] Girl
song performed by by Mary J Blige from Mary
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mary Danced With Soldiers
She'd slip away each day with the dimming light
And with the sweetest smile she'd kiss the child goodnight
At the mill she'd work her fingers till they were raw
For the sake of her son and the daddy he never saw
Mary danced with soldiers
She stepped a light quadrille
Shawl across her shoulders
To keep away the chill, to keep away the chill
It was a rebel boy who brought her joy they say
Though the years had passed the memories stood fast each day
Before a bullet crushed the life of their romance
He gave her a shawl and a parasol from France
Mary danced with soldiers
She stepped a light quadrille
Shawl across her shoulders
To keep away the chill, to keep away the chill
They came around to the tavern in town that night
And with silent cries Mary never tried to fight
They cut her hair and left her body torn
Her spirit slipped away before the dawn
Mary danced with soldiers
But now her body's still
Shawl across her shoulders
To keep away the chill
Mary danced with soldiers
She stepped a light quadrille
Shawl across her shoulders
To keep away the chill, to keep away the chill
song performed by by Nitty Gritty Dirt Band
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Angel Food Dogs
Leaping, leaping, leaping,
down line by line,
growling at the cadavers,
filling the holy jugs with their piss,
falling into windows and mauling the parents,
but soft, kiss-soft,
and sobbing sobbing
into their awful dog dish.
No point? No twist for you
in my white tunnel?
Let me speak plainly,
let me whisper it from the podium-
Mother, may I use your pseudonym?
May I take the dove named Mary
and shove out Anne?
May I take my check book, my holographs,
my eight naked books,
and sign it Mary, Mary, Mary
full of grace?
I know my name is not offensive
but my feet hang in the noose.
I want to be white.
I want to be blue.
I want to be a bee digging into an onion heart,
as you did to me, dug and squatted
long after death and its fang.
Hail Mary, full of me,
Nibbling in the sitting room of my head.
Mary, Mary, virgin forever,
whore forever,
give me your name,
give me your mirror.
Boils fester in my soul,
so give me your name so I may kiss them,
and they will fly off,
nameless
but named,
and they will fly off like angel food dogs
with thee
and with thy spirit.
Let me climb the face of my kitchen dog
and fly off into my terrified years.
poem by Anne Sexton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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