The statue [Statuia]
Your being nothing wants to let me hear:
Nor bad, nor good, nor bitter, nor sublime.
Your eyes as fine black mica do appear,
Which grace a statue's eye holes all the time.
My dreary gaze is crawling to your cheeks
Like does the sun when polar deserts scales
To freeze among the glaciated peaks
Stuck in its rays like in some pointed nails.
You didn't even guess I cared for thee,
Although my lust was boiling hot in me,
As waterfalls are boiling in their fits.
And my dear soul knocks at your frozen heart
Like someone who is far from being smart
And in an organ without keys now hits.
poem by Al. O. Teodoreanu, translated by Octavian Cocoş
Submitted by anonym
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Witch
Eyes, rivulets of red that run beneath a canopy
Of green-tinged lashes –
Tear blood playing on the grey-white skin,
Stretched across the twin peaks of cheekbone.
That slender pillar of a neck –
Magnet of eroticism, blinds to
Veins gorging on the flesh,
Dancing under pulse of blood –
Or whatever pumps inside.
Coal-black lips word intentions –
Castigations – variations of the horror
She was born to be.
O the hair! – a flame-orange avalanche
Thundering down to Hell
Where seething mounds of torn bodies lost their souls
To viler wants and fouler holes of
Scatological minds.
And the plunge of lavish breast –
E’er the siren’s weapon! –
Baits the mortal man –
Were he to chance his hand across
The certainty of doom.
But still we go, our weakness on display –
Hers will not a challenge be to see to our decay.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2011
Under lust rain
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Helderberg Hill (Sestina)
You are the high hill with numerous peaks,
that in summer looks magnificent and cheery,
where I have climbed up to waterfalls, to heights,
where I got a view of sun, beach and sea,
felt as if in presence of God, with tranquillity
with your moods you remind me of a lady.
Once I wandered with a young lady
on a twisting trail among your high peaks
to find some inner peace, some tranquillity
and she was quite happy and rather cheery
gazing up at the blue sky, down at the sea
from both of those dazing heights.
Climbing up to the sheer heights
was like exploring the body of a lady
as if finding a secret kind of sea
with beautiful rising pointed peaks
and the experience was quite cheery,
suddenly leaving an own tranquillity.
My privacy is invaded by her tranquillity
as from far I still do watch her heights
and although feeling rather cheery
there is danger in this lovely lady
that beacons me with her high peaks
to look upon an endless open sea.
I long to gaze out upon the sea,
to be with her in tranquillity,
to wander among her peaks,
to again explore her heights
as if to visit a dear kind old lady
but I wonder if I will find her cheery?
But I must now continually stay cheery,
keep far away from the troubled sea,
avoid all of the dangerous heights
of live to be able to find tranquillity
but still the beautiful ageless lady
is luring me continually with her peaks.
How glimmering and cheery with ice her peaks
high above the sea, do glow from their heights,
she is without tranquillity, a chilly frozen lady.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Oral Sex
One look in your eyes and tonight I am sickened
Rolling and shivering I can feel my skin crawling in bitter repulsion
All day I have been dreading the question that I knew tonight you would be asking
Lust burns in your gaze devouring me as if I were nothing more to you than a piece of meat
Surely you would't force me into an act of submission that you know I don't want
Eww! Now I can hear you unzipping and pulling it out
XXX rape is what I guess will my punishment for still loving you even after all these years of torment
2008 Ramona Thompson
poem by Ramona Thompson
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Melt In The Frozen Ocean!
My heart melts in the frozen ocean,
My thought freezes in the boiling season,
My legs floats on the fine soil,
My mind limbs in the tuned tunnel.
you have made it possible,
that I feel the impossible,
You have made me to see,
a woman in a mother,
pushed her to the next place,
find a man in a father,
kept him beside the woman
in the mother and then,
you have occupied the first.
you are the real, not a dream,
to enjoy at night and forget,
to enjoy at day and be mocked,
to enjoy once and throw out,
to flirt and dump as old cloth,
you have become a part,
we can't stay apart.
Our hearts melt in the frozen ocean,
the life in love, makes in possible.
Our thoughts freezes in the boiling season,
the affection that we share, is the reason.
The legs floats on the fine soil,
the hope in us, leaps and protects from evils.
Our mind limb in the tuned tunnel,
as we are alert to catch the trust angel.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Deep Seas
Deep seas may strike and deliver the praise
Of a monstrous sea, boiling heat has occurred,
Boiling madness has elegantly travelled,
Boiling is the disorder of this monumental wave.
I am deep in thought over the abode in this soup,
The soup of peace and war, a sea so tranquil and hostile,
I would like to stay here forever, to erode the land with it,
Without me and without a mountain to collide with.
Dirty weather arouses suspicion from the waters,
Clean and clear is the river, rivers of ice are cold,
Rivers die and live forming foam from the dear sky,
This sky shall boldly try the patience of the rivers.
poem by Naveed Akram
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The Organist
In his dim chapel day by day
The organist was wont to play,
And please himself with fluted reveries;
And all the spirit's joy and strife,
The longing of a tender life,
Took sound and form upon the ivory keys;
And though he seldom spoke a word,
The simple hearts that loved him heard
His glowing soul in these.
One day as he wrapped, a sound
Of feet stole near; he turned and found
A little maid that stood beside him there.
She started, and in shrinking-wise
Besought him with her liquid eyes
And little features, very sweet and spare.
'You love the music, child,' he said,
And laid his hand upon her head,
And smoothed her matted hair.
She answered, 'At the door one day
I sat and heard the organ play;
I did not dare to come inside for fear;
But yesterday, a little while,
I crept half up the empty aisle
And heard the music sounding sweet and clear;
To-day I thought you would not mind,
For, master dear, your face was kind,
And so I came up here.'
'You love the music then,' he said,
And still he stroked her golden head,
And followed out some winding reverie;
'And you are poor?' said he at last;
The maiden nodded, and he passed
His hand across his forehead dreamingly;
'And will you be my friend?' he spake,
'And on the organ learn to make
Grand music here with me?'
And all the little maiden's face
Was kindled with a grateful grace;
'Oh, master, teach me; I will slave for thee!'
She cried; and so the child grew dear
To him, and slowly year by year
He taught her all the organ's majesty;
And gave her from his slender store
Bread and warm clothing, that no more
Her cheeks were pinched to see.
And year by year the maiden grew
Taller and lovelier, and the hue
Deepened upon her tender cheeks untried.
Rounder, and queenlier, and more fair
Her form grew, and her golden hair
Fell yearly richer at the master's side.
In speech and bearing, form and face,
Sweeter and graver, grace by grace,
Her beauties multiplied.
And sometimes at his work a glow
Would touch him, and he murmured low
'How beautiful she is?' and bent his head;
And sometimes when the day went by
And brought no maiden he would sigh,
And lean and listen to her velvet tread;
And he would drop his hands and say,
'My music cometh not to-day;
Pray God she be not dead!'
So the sweet maiden filled his heart,
And with her growing grew his art,
For day by day more wondrously he played.
Such heavenly things the master wrought,
That in his happy dreams he thought,
The organ's self did love the gold-haired maid:
But she, the maiden, never guessed-
What prayers for her in hours of rest
The sombre organ prayed.
At last, one summer morning fair,
The maiden came with braided hair,
And took his hands, and held them eagerly.
'To-morrow is my wedding day;
Dear master, bless me that the way
Of life be smooth, not bitter unto me.'
He stirred not; but the light did go
Out of his shrunken cheeks, and oh!
His head hung heavily.
'You love him, then?' 'I love him well,'
She answered, and a numbness fell
Upon his eyes and all his heart that bled.
A glory, half a smile, abode
Within the maiden's eyes and glowed
Upon her parted lips. The master said,
'God bless and bless thee, little maid,
With peace and long delight,' and laid
His hands upon her head.
And she was gone; and all that day
The hours crept up and slipped away,
And he sat still, as moveless as a stone.
The night came down, with quiet stars,
And darkened him: in coloured bars
Along the shadowy aisle the moonlight shone.
And then the master woke and passed
His hands across the keys at last,
And made the organ moan.
The organ shook, the music wept;
For sometimes like a wail it crept
In broken moanings down the shadows drear;
And otherwhiles the sound did swell,
And like a sudden tempest fell
Through all the windows wonderful and clear.
The people gathered from the street,
And filled the chapel seat by seat-
They could not choose but hear.
And there they sat till dawning light,
Nor ever stirred to awe. 'To-night,
The master hath a noble mood,' they said.
But on a sudden ceased the sound:
Like ghosts the people gathered round,
And on the keys they found his fallen head.
The silent organ had received
The master's broken heart relieved,
And he was white and dead.
poem by Archibald Lampman
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No Time To Eat
'nd there you have it, folks, so, from what you just read
take from a moment and consider my dear broken head
I've got some problems boiling in my brain
but they all get ignored, why worry, it's all the same?
this happens all the time? just look at me, I'm fine?
do I not look fine? I'm just fine I'm just fine?
Nine days into the semester and my conscience is a mess
but the gloom makes a mixture so things all end up their best
like this, this rhyme, it's got a bit of bite
I'd like to share it with you all, share it if I might
it's only when I'm sick that I can say what I mean
when I'm all locked away, those paths can be seen
and the paths will be followed, follow them I must
so I become the person only person I can trust
Now can you see why I do not want to eat?
more important duties lay just ahead of me.
poem by D.M.L. Catseye
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An Exile's Song
My soul is like a prisoned lark,
That sings and dreams of liberty,
The nights are long, the days are dark,
Away from home, away from thee!
My only joy is in my dreams,
When I thy loving face can see.
How dreary the awakening seems,
Away from home, away from thee!
At dawn I hasten to the shore,
To gaze across the sparkling sea -
The sea is bright to me no more,
Which parts me from my home and thee.
At twilight, when the air grows chill,
And cold and leaden is the sea,
My tears like bitter dews distil,
Away from home, away from thee.
I could not live, did I not know
That thou art ever true to me,
I could not bear a doubtful woe,
Away from home, away from thee.
I could not live, did I not hear
A voice that sings the day to be,
When hitherward a ship shall steer,
To bear me back to home and thee.
Oh, when at last that day shall break
In sunshine on the dancing sea,
It will be brighter for the sake
Of my return to home and thee!
poem by Robert Fuller Murray
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Stuck In A Loop
When you hear woulda shoulda coulda
Gotta think mighta been in spite of
Low down tired of being a fighter
Turn around put it all behind you
Caught in a trap and you cant walk out
Its in your mind so you cant walk out
Now dont get stuck
Stuck in a loop again
Well youre gonna get stuck
Stuck in a loop again
When you hear maybe baby someday
Gotta say when do I get it my way
Freeze-dried waitin for the big day
Get wise take another freeway
Caught in a trap and you cant walk out
Its in your mind so you cant walk out
Just when you think youve got it beat
It sets you up and knocks you down
Try to blow it off or trade it in
And youll wind up in the lost and found
And then youre stuck
Stuck in a loop again
Well youre gonna get stuck
Stuck in a loop again
Maybe random maybe a scam
Fate lays waste to the greatest plans
Thats life
Talk about karma moan about sin
Just dont get stuck in that loop again
cause thats life
song performed by by Devo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Statue
Cement up to the neck
& my head packed
with unsaid words.
A gullet full of pebbles,
a mouth
of cast concrete-
I am stuck
in a lovelessness so thick,
it seems my natural element.
My mouth closes
on stones.
Hand frozen to my chin,
my back a question mark,
my heart soldered
to its arteries,
my feet planted
in grass that cannot grow,
The Thinker ponders
ten more years of this:
a woman
living the life
of a statue.
Break free!
Melt the metal
in love's cauldron,
open doors, eyes, heart,
those frozen ventricles,
those stuck tongues,
those stuttering dependencies.
When the statue walks,
will the world dissolve?
When she shakes her shoulders,
will the sky shrug
& skitter off in space?
Or will the clouds cluster
to cover her,
& the blue wind gather
at her shoulders
& the men streak by
like jet trails in the air,
utterly ephemeral?
poem by Erica Jong
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Believe Me, If All Those Endearing Young Charms
Believe me, if all those endearing young charms,
Which I gaze on so fondly to-day,
Were to change by to-morrow, and fleet in my arms,
Live fairy-gifts fading away,
Thou wouldst still be adored, as this moment thou art,
Let thy loveliness fade as it will,
And around the dear ruin each wish of my heart
Would entwine itself verdantly still.
It is not while beauty and youth are thine own,
And thy cheeks unprofaned by a tear,
That the fervor and faith of a soul may be known,
To which time will but make thee more dear!
No, the heart that has truly loved never forgets,
But as truly loves on to the close,
As the sunflower turns on her god when he sets
The same look which she turned when he rose!
poem by Thomas Moore
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Y - hole- 9+2=11
Lucky at this hole.
Watchout - they steal holes.
WHO-WHO-WHO
Not them - them.
Flowing sands-sands-sands and man.
Catch infinite vibes - MAN.
HOLES-HOLES-HOLES
Gone hole insane, hole insane - PAINS.
Peephole, porthole, volcano hole.
HOLES FOR SALE 'smart guy'.
HOLES FOR SALE 'smart guy'.
Sells nothing - makes money - SMART.
HOLES FOR SALE
LUCKY, , , bought a hole....SMART.
Donut holes-Bagel holes - *FOR SALE*.
Never thought about holes before.
LUCKY, , , at the, , , , ,11 hole.
LUCKY-LUCKY-LUCKY - 'knows'.
HOLES FOR SALE - {sale day}
SALE DAY - SALE DAY - SALE DAY
HOLES FOR SALE
2/27/2009 Joe Poewhit
JESUS SAVES
poem by Joe Poewhit
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How the wise Master's mesmerized World?
In Colombo heating
And cost of living flies high
Like a sky rocket
But they play cricket outdoor.
A poor man bowls to a well to do batsman
And he hits the ball that goes over the boundary line.
Skinny umpire raises hardly his rickety both hands to the sky
And marked as six for the batsman!
In Alaska freezing, children play snow ball on mountain peaks
And the diabetic father who runs to the world's edge
And he pees, the longest frozen sugar rod and it goes to the Record book!
In middle East boiling, Centigrade hundred or Fahrenheit two hundred and twelve it seems.
A brother kills his own brother for Democracy
And the tyrant King hides in a Harem
And play chess with concubines
That goes to the modern civilization!
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Boiling Point
Boiling Point
What no shame
Broken Dreams
What no shame
I have come for you
Since I was to die
Boil to unknown sights
Make believe broken dreams
Broken dreams
Boiling point
Point of no return
Fears and dreams disguise
Lifes noose
Can I
Face the chair (electric chair I assume)
Face the chair
Face the chair
Boiling point
Falling to darkness
Where the sky turns red
Turns into stark features
Letting you wish you would live
You wish you would live
What no shame
Boiling point
Broken dreams
What no shame
song performed by by Obituary
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pot And Kettle
Come close to me, dear Annie, while I bind a lover's knot.
A tale of burning love between a kettle and a pot.
The pot was stalwart iron and the kettle trusty tin,
And though their sides were black with smoke they bubbled love within.
Forget that kettle, Jamie, and that pot of boiling broth,
I know a dismal story of a candle and a moth.
For while your pot is boiling and while your kettle sings
My moth makes love to candle flame and burns away his wings.
Your moth, I envy, Annie, that died by candle flame,
But here are two more lovers, unto no damage came.
There was a cuckoo loved a clock and found her always true.
For every hour they told their hearts, 'Ring! ting! Cuckoo! Cuckoo!'
As the pot boiled for the kettle, as the kettle for the pot,
So boils my love within me till my breast is glowing hot.
As the moth died for the candle, so could I die for you.
And my fond heart beats time with yours and cries, 'Cuckoo! Cuckoo!'
poem by Robert Graves
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Doin' Fine
Don't feel bad,don't feel good,
Feel alright 'cos i'm doing as i should,
Don't look back,no i don't have the time,
I guess i'm doing fine.
Got no bags to slow me down,
Travelling light but my feet are on the ground,
Got no message,i ain't got a dime,
I guess i'm doing fine.
Don't need no paper telling me bad news,
No politician giving their views,
Don't need no doctor to tell me i'm well,
I feel like heaven and i've been through hell.
Talking straight i don't feel confused,
Don't want nothing,i've got nothing more to lose,
Don't need no credit,don't show me where to sign,
I guess i'm doing fine.
I guess i'm doing fine.
I guess i'm doing fine.
Don't come looking for me,
'cos i'm doing fine,
No missing persons,
'cos i'm doing fine,
Don't go home,
'cos i'm doing fine.
song performed by by Cliff Richard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The gold of your eyes
The gold of your eyes
is like the sun on a summer’s day,
the auburn of your hair
more beautiful than spring and autumn.
The glow in your smile
is brighter than the snow,
the pink red blush on your cheeks
is more beautiful
than the flowers in your hair
and the softness of your face
cuts past all borders
and brings you deep in my heart,
but it’s your humanity
that hits the deepest nails
into my soul
and maybe the thing
about what love is essentially,
is clear in what a person is
and are able to become
more than the mere feelings
that you read
in someone’s eyes.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Sonnet 108: When Sorrow
When sorrow (using mine own fire's might)
Melts down his lead into my boiling breast;
Through that dark furnace to my heart oppress'd
There shines a joy from thee, my only light;
But soon as thought of thee breeds my delight,
And my young soul flutters to thee his nest,
Most rude despair, my daily unbidden guest,
Clips straight my wings, straight wraps me in his night,
And makes me then bow down my head and say,
'Ah, what doth Phoebus' gold that wretch avail
Whom iron doors do keep from use of day?'
So strangely (alas) thy works in me prevail,
That in my woes for thee thou art my joy,
And in my joys for thee my only annoy.
poem by Philip Sidney
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Solitary Beauty
Well balanced features, slightly pointed chin
Alluring heavy eyelids, that make you gaze right in
Fine black veil and simplistic in dress
Her true identity is anybodys guess
The meaning of her enigmatic smile continues
to be debated
How so, is anyone related
poem by John Leroy Maxwell
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Blessed Souls
Baby started winking his eyes, as raindropp fell on his face;
And began to scream with tears, as there's none with grace;
Is there any who can hear child's yell for that blissful comfort?
There was not a soul to cloth him with warm and comfort.
Left alone on deserted street, drenched in rain entire night;
Shuddering like a vein, in the stony boulevard the frostiest night;
Is there any who can hear child's yell for that blissful comfort?
There was not a soul to cloth him with warm and comfort.
Warm morning rays caressed the child's tender cheeks,
Child started chuckling, twinkling face packed with grace,
A graceful arm stretched with heavenly warm and peace,
Child's eyes sparkled with twinkling rays of hope and peace.
Taken through unknown trails, reached an unfamiliar place,
Left on a hoary cradle, baby went on a tiny doze with peace,
With a little sneer, perfect heavenly peace radiated in face,
Blessed be the soul which showered child that much grace.