I cannot tell why this heart languishes in silence. It is for small needs it never asks, or knows or remembers.
aphorism by Rabindranath Tagore from Stray Birds (1916), translated by Rabindranath Tagore
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Memory of Water (for Scarlet)
Water remembers you
falling now on your sleeping face
waking you from dreams
with its surprise
after you fell asleep
at your first pinic.
Water remembers your childish
laughter.
Water remembers you
holding your body
in its body
as you learn not to fear it
as you learn the words float...sink...swim.
Water remembers you
becoming its friend.
Water remembers you
diving into its honeymoon waters
becoming fishes....kisses
lasting from here to eternity.
Water remembers two
delerious skinnydippers.
Water remembers you
crying in its rain
sobbing 'I'll never fall in love again! '
as if you were an old 1950's tune.
Water remembers such tears
hiding them in its rain.
Water remembers you
laughing in the rain
having fallen in love again
so quick to change
your tune.
Water remembers you
laughing here we go again.
Water remembers you
soaking wet in a sudden thunder storm
flowers held in your hand
having lost their heads
presenting her
with nothing but stalks.
Water remembers you
having to wear her old dress
as she dried your clothes.
Water remembers
kisses lost amonst the roar of a fire.
Water remembers you
& is saddened to find you
with no answers
with no questions
here on this bridge
reflecting itself
here in its depths
where only silence lives
holding you
as before
only water
remembers your death.
poem by Dónall Dempsey
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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T-bone
Me and t-bone on the road to town
Its like Im walking with a talking machine
Just as soon as he thinks of something else
He wont wait to interrupt himself
Must be something that he cant quite say
He just doesnt want to leave it that way
Although he may not know it yet
Unless I miss my bet
Hes just trying to forget
What his heart remembers
I see that t-bone got an automobile
Low-loping and open to the sky
All night behind the hurricane wheel
Riding in the eye
All day underneath the hood
Mondo bondo, plastic wood
He needs a mile of masking tape
He wants to keep his ship in shape
Someday to escape
What his heart remembers (oh, yes,what his heart remembers)
T-bones not alone, not alone
Looks like he gets a second chance
Its mamarama and lumalamalu
Want to take him to recovery dance
Hes looking like he gets his meat suit back
I guess he must have missed the crack attack
Still hes riding for a fall
cause its written upon the wall
That now he must recall
What his heart remembers (what his heart remembers)
song performed by by James Taylor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Maverick
He remembers the backstabbing laughter.
And the heartfelt pain.
He remembers the innuendoed gossip...
And the slander done to him,
Still within him often remains.
He remembers his loved ones...
As some withered and died.
He remembers crying alone,
With no one to confide.
He remembers his struggles,
With aches in his body that persisted.
He remembers failed relationships...
With those who could not resist,
Communicating nothing but lies and conflict!
He remembers all of it,
And sometimes with a hidden bitterness that sits!
He remembers what it took,
To get released...to become unhooked.
With faith and a stick-to-itness,
Feeling as if dragging cinder blocks on each foot.
He remembers once being called a maverick!
And how today...
His maverick ways,
Bestows upon him a happiness...
Chartered by conviction.
And nothing he read from 'how-to-do' books.
Or afflictions of limiting restrictions.
Could he do it 'all' over again?
Probably not!
And why would he choose to?
To prove what?
And to who?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Why Me?
When the hopes are hassled
And relationships are rattled
Naïveté asks, why me?
When wishes are whacked
And dreams are dashed
Naïveté asks, why me?
When fantasies are fettered
And blessings are battered
Naïveté asks, why me?
When desires are demolished
And ambitions are admonished
Naïveté asks, why me?
When temptations are traumatized
And passions are pulverized
Naïveté asks, why me?
Strangely,
Naïveté with influence
And naïveté with affluence
Never asks, why me?
Naïveté with name
And naïveté with fame
Never asks, why me?
Naïveté with health
And naïveté with wealth
Never asks, why me?
Naïveté with fiefdom
And naïveté with wisdom
Never asks, why me?
Naïveté with beauty
And naïveté with booty
Never asks, why me?
poem by Hitesh Sheth
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Pain
She crys out in vain
as she watchs the moon
and feels its chill
from the rain of thoughts
that blisters her dreams
She crys out in vain
as she remembers
how she opens her heart
only for it be broken in two
She remembers his smile
when he waves his farewell
as he walked away
from her veiw of pain
She begs to be forgiven
for her cold reception
of dougbts that made
her soul bleed
for a lost love forsaken
She pushed away
the one man that loved her
because of her own doubts
that bleed her heart of pain
All she remembers is the pain
from the past
all she remembers is
crying in vain
she can not will not
put her self though
all this again
She walks away with a broken heart
never to know how much he loved her so
poem by Kaila George
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Everyone who remembers his own education remembers teachers, not methods and techniques. The teacher is the heart of the educational system.
quote by Sidney Hook
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Heart Cheats With Me
My heart cheats with me,
I give ten reasons to hate her,
Heart gives ten reasons to love her.
My heart cheats with me,
I say she make me cry,
Heart say she give me smile more than cry.
My heart cheats with me,
I say she never wipe my tears,
Heart says I never show my tears.
My heart cheats with me,
I say she breaks her promises,
Heart says why I ask her to make promises.
My heart cheats with me,
I ask why she leaves me alone in this world,
Heart asks why I feel alone in this world.
My heart cheats with me,
I say she never care for me,
Heart says I never care for her care.
My heart cheats with me,
I ask why she shown me dream,
Heart asks why I believe on dream.
My heart cheats with me,
I ask why she gave fake love to me,
Heart asks why I gave true love to her.
My heart cheats with me,
I ask why she betrayed with me
Heart ask why I trust on her.
My heart cheats with me,
I ask why I can’t hate her
Heart asks why I was loved her.
My heart cheats with me,
Heart asks, why I want to hate her whenever one day I was loved her?
I say I want to hate her because you remember her and make me cry.
My heart cheats with me,
My heart cheats with me.
poem by Priyo Hazra
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The Fruit Of His Silence And Indifference
what he remembers most was that time
when he asks for a glass of water which was denied him
he was angry at first
hysterical about his thirst his view on death that comes like a black horse from far
but he calmed down ultimately knowing that nothing happens anyway
despite his scream
the wind is still the wind that goes out from the hold of the mountain
not ever minding his situation
the trees are cruel too taking care only of their own roots
and so he grabbed silence
he coiled with the ropes of indifference
and take himself for a rock beside a cliff
and then they look for him
regretting perhaps what they have forgotten such a value for a rose
but then he has no eyes as identifying marks and no matter how
they search
despite his presence
they could not find him
now they are all crazy like the tribes driven out from Babel
and he simply watched them all
in silence and indifference
they murmur and cry out in the darkness of their souls
it is time now he says to reap the fruits of his labor.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Ode IX: At Study
I.
Whither did my fancy stray?
By what magic drawn away
Have I left my studious theme?
From this philosophic page,
From the problems of the sage,
Wandering thro' a pleasing dream?
II.
'Tis in vain alas! i find,
Much in vain, my zealous mind
Would to learned wisdom's throne
Dedicate each thoughtful hour:
Nature bids a softer power
Claim some minutes for his own.
III.
Let the busy or the wise
View him with contemptuous eyes;
Love is native to the heart:
Guide its wishes as you will;
Without Love you'll find it still
Void in one essential part.
IV.
Me though no peculiar fair
Touches with a lover's care;
Though the pride of my desire
Asks immortal friendship's name,
Asks the palm of honest fame,
And the old heroic lyre;
V.
Though the day have smoothly gone,
Or to letter'd leisure known,
Or in social duty spent;
Yet at eve my lonely breast
Seeks in vain for perfect rest;
Languishes for true content.
poem by Mark Akenside
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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God Whose Gifts In Gracious Flood
God, whose gifts in gracious flood
Unto all who seek are sent,
Only asks you to be good,
And is content.
So the world, when all things are
Sparkling, yet does nought ignite,
Only asks you to be fair,
And finds delight.
And my heart, in the sweet shade
Of two beauteous eyes steeped o'er,
Only asks if you be glad,
And nothing more.
poem by Victor Hugo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lonely moments (A song)
Don’t know why!
It happens with life
When intimate is not,
Suddenly the heart
Remembers past events,
The small-small incidents;
Don’t know why!
Her smile, her style,
Her talk and her whisper
Her sudden knock
Her all moments, I still remember
Don’t know why!
Those unknown moments,
Passed back with time;
Changing colours of life,
Disturbing heart of mine;
Don’t know why!
Same is path, Same is journey
But partner Is not with me,
Looking for her, here & there
Lonely moments, no one to share.
Don’t know why!
It happens with life.
(C) S.D. Tiwari
poem by S.D. Tiwari
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dead Boys Poem
The child sits and weeps,
How could this be all that matters,
Why did this have to hurt so deep,
How could this be life?
The child sits with the pain inside,
He sits with his heart in his chest,
‘How could I have died? ’
Is all he thinks, he forgets the rest.
The child’s eyes closed so tight,
His fists clenched so strong
He feels the night,
He knows everything that happened was wrong.
The child stands and looks into the houses light
He stares at not the window,
Not at the sight,
Yet only for the weeping widow.
The child stands holding the gun,
The gun he died holding,
As he remembers his father killing him, his only son
He remembers his father scolding.
He knows he took a life,
Yet he knows his father took his,
He remembers not the taking of his father’s life,
Only the pain of his father stealing his.
His eyes so dark,
His mind so lost,
His hand tracing deaths mark,
As he remembers it’s cost.
He remembers the scene, the time,
He remembers the look in his father’s face,
He remembers doing the crime,
He remembers seeing the pain in his father’s face.
But then his memory stops,
And reality takes place,
For this is when he dropped,
This is when life left his face.
He walks past,
To eternity; to roam
Of all his memories this shall be his last
For this is the dead boy’s poem.
poem by Bethany Maxwell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Silence Echos
Silence
makes my heart break
Silence
Love, does not make
Silence
Was it all just a terrible mistake?
Silence
Was love just a game, just fake?
Silence
Leaves me heartbroken
Silence
Kills he feeling behind words unspoken
Silence
has is a shield you hide behind
Silence
Guards what's on your mind
Silence
Chills your heart's sound
Silence
Love cannot silently be found
Silence
has turned your dreams blind
Silence
is darkness in which you cannot find
Silence
Crushes the hopeful feelings that were kind
Silence
Of emptiness it did remind
Silence
Silence took all I sought to find
Silence
Silence was hurtful and unkind
Silence
Will kill love before it ripens on the vine
Love will go silently
But it's lonely hurt will echo for all time
poem by James T. Adair
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The King and The Wise Man
A king asks to a wise man:
'Should my heart hot?
Full of energy and blood
Or should my heart cold?
Full of calculation and plot'
A wise man answers:
'Should your heart warm
So everybody could feel calm
In your arms'
A king asks to a wise man:
'Should my heart black?
Rules my kingdom with fear and dark
Or should my heart white?
Always lives in the world's bright side'
A wise man answers:
'Should your heart grey
The color of human that wants to seek
What's wrong and right'
A king asks to a wise man:
'Should my heart hard?
Strong like steel that can't be beaten by anyone
Or should my heart soft?
Harmless like cotton that easily touched by everyone'
A wise man answers:
'Should your heart flexible
Mold like rubber that could protect people you love'
poem by Maria Sudibyo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What Really Happened
at 80
the monk who left the monastery in Utah
and who gave me a book about The Preacher's Daughter
always remembers names
like fr. Fabian
or fr. Lucas or
fr. Damian
when we arrive there
and i am patient as he is deaf
and
agonizing & he asks me to call and check if fr. Fabian is still there
he was there in 2000
and the year after fr. Fabian sent him a card
the cellphone rings and fr Bruno asks who am i
and i pretended to be
Ron, the old monk who is with me now
tracing his past
trying to look for fr. Fabian who died in Polomolok
and he wants to know the cause of death
fr Bruno says
nothing about asphyxiation but that is the lie that
i told Ron
and his face changed like an afternoon
and i can feel
that it was heavily raining
that is what happened
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Dread the Silence
I need noise when I’m awake
I dread the silence when I am not asleep
It’s either pounding my eardrums with songs, music or any mp3s
or razzing it to an audio book or MTVs
Noise has been a means to cover up the reality
I dread the silence for it prods a cognizance that I’m alone despite the crowd.
I dread the silence fearing that I wake up from my self-created imaginary world
I dread the silence for fear that it made me question about my existence
I dread the silence fearing that I will hear the inner voice
clamoring and wanting to escape from this dragging circumstances
That still small voice which prefers peace
that still small voice wanting to get away from this kind of place.
that still small voice, crying from this senseless pace.
that still small voice, wanting a break from this pointless race.
poem by Champs Ulysses Cabinatan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Big Heart
He asks me
How to say 'big heart' in Hindi
I do not know
He asks me
How to say 'big heart' in Mandarin
I do not know
I ask him:
How do you know that someone
Has a big heart?
He does not know?
I do not know how to say 'big heart'
In Hindi or Mandarin
But he does not have a soul if he
Does not know who has a big heart
Translated from Serbian: Tanja Bulovic
poem by Jankovic Zoran
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Silence...
Often i stand and stare
into the diminishing light of the day
horizon gradually fading into nothingness
willow and pine piercing the night
the earth ruptures into a song;
accompanied with shrill whistles in the dark
the howling of the wolves and brisk blaring of the wind
Silence enters into the serene beauty of the dusk.
Silence that invites me to come and see
Silence that asks me to reveal
Silence that wants me to make unwanted promises
Silence that does nothing but ruptures a wound deep within
Silence that drags along unwanted pain
Silence that emulsifies unspoken words of love and gain
Silence that was till then pressed within my lips
Silence that now has emerged as a giant affliction.
Silence that comes as a sorrow
Silence that makes me loathe my tommorows
Silence that demads i submit all my emotions
Silence that is eager to make me weak and fragile
Silence that commands i dropp a tear
Silence that dictates me to get lost in the dark
Silence that brings love as a foe
silence that wants to bind hatered deep within my soul
Silence that hurts me for no rhyme and reason
Silence that makes me feel so forlon
Silence that has so much bitterness
Silence that washes away all my hopes and pray
Silence that makes me go week
Silence that unearths agonizing memories
Silence that came so unnvited
Silence that fails to unbreak any Silence.............
poem by Pooja Nepal
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Sometimes When I Kneel Down In Prayer
Sometimes when I kneel down for prayer in church
she comes with small tottering steps,
folds her two small arms around me
and for moments the prayer of the chief elder ends
when with Gert, Gert she gives a small cry
and her joy cuts through heart and soul.
It's with a pouted mouth that she sometimes kisses,
looking up with small angelic eyes into mine
when maybe even in heaven there is silence
and for moments I am amazed
when her hand reaches out to mine,
as a small girl sometimes do.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Song Remembers When
(hugh prestwood)
I was standing at the counter
I was waiting for the change
When I heard that old familiar music start
It was like a lighted match
Had been tossed into my soul
It was like a dam had broken in my heart
After taking every detour
Getting lost and losing track
So that even if I wanted
I could not find my way back
After driving out the memory
Of the way things might have been
After Id forgotten all about us
The song remembers when
We were rolling through the rockies
We were up above the clouds
When a station out of jackson played that song
And it seemed to fit the moment
And the moment seemed to freeze
When we turned the music up and sang along
And there was a God in heaven
And the world made perfect sense
We were young and were in love
And we were easy to convince
We were headed straight for eden
It was just around the bend
And though I have forgotten all about it
The song remembers when
I guess something must have happened
And we must have said goodbye
And my heart must have been broken
Though I cant recall just why
The song remembers when
Well, for all the miles between us
And for all the time thats passed
You would think I havent gotten very far
And I hope my hasty heart
Will forgive me just this once
If I stop to wonder how on earth you are
But thats just a lot of water
Underneath a bridge I burned
And theres no use in backtracking
Around corners I have turned
Still I guess some things we bury
Are just bound to rise again
For even if the whole world has forgotten
The song remembers when
Yeah, and even if the whole world has forgotten
The song remembers when
song performed by by Trisha Yearwood
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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