"lumiere" poems
What drives men to do such terrible things?
Am I exempt from such a judgment?
From chaos given and innocence stolen
This world is hellbent
On suffering,
One writes
to be left
On misery
one night
is enough
On loneliness
Oh, how I greet it
With open palms raised to the sky
Tonight is a fine night to die
My belly full of pills
Only prescribed
By men and women
Garnished in white
Oh, this will help me sleep
with kings and counselors
For if you look too long,
bloodshot eyes,
The abyss will grab you from your home
Ode to joy
Hallowed be thy name
My eyes burn as I grip this pencil
And an odd smell lingers in this room
The smell of sterilization.
The smell of cleanliness.
The smell of godliness.
It's far too white here
It's far too bright, I fear
I fear for these students
Fellow and brave
Taking this test
While I'm painting my cave
My cave is solitude and I have picked it out from it's mountain
Rocks fell soon thereafter
Now I cannot leave
This was my choice
But I have one regret
I wish I could have stood still
and been crushed to my death
Much like Giles Corey
I am a sinner
More weight, he cried out
From his pressing board
And much like me, his please were ignored
What drives man to do such terrible things?
Passion, my friend
The same passion for which
I sing
Oct 2, 2013
Oct 2, 2013 at 11:25 PM UTC
*Don't try to make me wait
In the cold dark night
I am my own ray of light
You will melt like snow
You're an awkward firefly
Losing its glow.*
Aug 23, 2015
Aug 23, 2015 at 11:17 PM UTC
La belle lune qui dort dans la nuit,
Sa couleur de lumiere , elle est si jolie...
La belle lune qui j'ai vu ce soir,
Un trainen chaque gare.
Douce comme toi,
Elle est indécise, sa joie.
Le café qui tu as pris,
L'espérance pas encore finie.
La belle lune froide dans l'hiver,
Je t'offre une quimére.
La belle lune si claire, si amoureuse,
Je t'aime lune farceuse.
Victor Marques
Dec 14, 2009
Dec 14, 2009 at 8:32 AM UTC
You're gone.
It's my fault.
I'm deadened.
la lumiere
it's gone
I'm bereft.
the choice to fan the ember to blazing flame
was there
I ran
I'm empty.
match-perfect, close to narcissism
I can pretend we were torn apart by Fate
it is I who did the tearing
we're deleted.
I'm a coward
oh, mon chéri seul
please find in your heart to forgive me.
You're perfect
but poison
I'm nine-tenths to numb
Don't forget me.
Jan 23, 2013
Jan 23, 2013 at 7:32 PM UTC
i. you never ceased to begin and end your day by saying “i love you.” it’s the little things matter. it’s the little things that make my day complete.
ii. i know nothing with certainty about most things, but with you i am more than certain. with you, i’m entirely sure. i hope you are too.
iii. let me be your cigarette so i could touch your lips.
iv. i have tired eyes and a tired mind from running away from my demons all day. you know exactly how to calm me down. perhaps you and only you can help me feel at ease. thank you for slaying my demons for me.
v. i feel the sting of the sun. the moon has set. i sacrificed sleep just so i can spend more time with you. i want more hours with you.
vi. i’m fighting off sleep yet again just so i can hear your voice on the phone. sing for me, my love.
vii. i have never felt safe anywhere in this world, until i felt your embrace. your arms feel like home.
viii. you made me listen to a new song today. it’s beautiful. you’re beautiful.
ix. as the band sang on stage, you held my hand. you looked at me while you sang the sweetest line from the song. in that moment, i felt like i’m the luckiest girl in the crowd.
x. for the longest time, i’ve been afraid of heights. “you can do it! close your eyes and jump,” you told me. my hands were trembling. my legs were shaking. i was barely breathing. i took a leap of faith and jumped, knowing that you were there at the bottom waiting there for me. not even my deepest and darkest fear can stop me. you make me fearless.
xi. i only have the silver moonlight in me but you wouldn’t even dare trade the brightest star, the glow of the sun, with the light gleam that i have. you make me feel like i can outshine anyone. “lumiere, darling, you’re beautiful” you said.
xii. i was cold and you gave me your jacket. i saw you shiver while you handed it to me. i knew in that moment that you would sacrifice everything for me. i love you.
xiii. how i wish you would defend me when someone talks **** about me. i feel betrayed. you know me better than they do. don’t do it again, i beg you.
xiv. i’d open the door for you again and again. that’s what scares me.
xv. when we spent time apart, i asked myself, how can emptiness feel so heavy?
xvi. we were talking about our future, and i’ve never wanted to fight for something so much in my life.
xvii. someone stole my color and threw it to the wind. i don’t know if i will still find it, but you still looked at me like i’m the brightest rainbow.
xviii. you said you are afraid to lose me. i am hoping that you wouldn’t have the strength to face your fear and leave. not now, not ever.
Nov 21, 2018
Nov 21, 2018 at 8:55 AM UTC
he calls me
lumiere de ma vie
which means
light of my life
in the language
of love.
for me
he is the
docile light
melting through my window
making for the most beautiful morning.
he is the
warmth peering from behind
the darkest cloud
on a bone chilling day.
he is the
overwhelming feeling
of comfort in your skin
when the sunlight hits you
just flawlessly.
he is the
lumiere de ma vie.
Dec 12, 2018
Dec 12, 2018 at 12:02 PM UTC
Each room has a glow
a basking room, an aural one
if they were circumferences
would they arc beyond the horizon?
and by unfurling my imagination
why would I not choose to unloosen my certainties?
a certain light quality permeates
only to find a hallway
even more intense
an antechamber in a prism.
Mar 27, 2014
Mar 27, 2014 at 6:00 PM UTC
The spindle was polished, very brightly
to set the embankment's observations
of London a swirling,
- son et lumiere
because this French glass bottomed vessel
bobbled and flustered
in beseech
of the Isle of Meander.
Nov 1, 2012
Nov 1, 2012 at 6:05 PM UTC
C'est un trou de verdure, où chante une riviere
Accrochant follement aux herbes des haillons
D'argent, où le soleil, de la montagne fière,
Luit: c'est un petit val qui mousse de rayons.
Un soldat jeune, bouche ouverte, tête nue
Et la nuque baignant dans le frais cresson bleu,
Dort; il est étendu dans 1'herbe, sous la nue,
Pâle dans son lit vert où la lumiere pleut.
Les pieds dans les glaïeuls, il dort. Souriant comme
Sourirait un enfant malade, il fait un somme.
Nature, berce-le chaudement: il a froid!
Les parfums ne font pas frissonner sa narine;
II dort dans le soleil, la main stir sa poitrine,
Tranquille. Il a deux trous rouges au côté droit.
Arthur Rimbaud, Oeuvres
translation:
THE VALLEY SLEEPER
It's a green vale where a river runs
clawing madly at silver herbs that toss
shade, while from proud mountain the sun's
rays fall on a crater foaming with moss.
A young soldier, mouth open, head bare,
neck nape bathed in blue water cress
sleeps; white faced, of clouds unaware
and in green bed, the light's caress.
Feet in gladioli, smiling, dozing, still
as a sick child smiles, he is taking a rest.
His nostrils uncloyed by scents,
he sleeps in the sun, hand on chest,
In his right side are two red rents.
TOBIAS
Mar 24, 2018
Mar 24, 2018 at 1:38 PM UTC
Did you catch the ethereal light of a passing torch
like the repetitive whistling of a Northern Cardinal cupped in your hands
red in its infumation drawn away from the heat of a woodland fall
Let’s run away from Leeds as far as the sun casts your shadow
everyone’s thoughts are passing over our heads
have you found your voice in the hallway choir?
May 8, 2022
May 8, 2022 at 5:11 PM UTC
There is no hiding
From the omnipresent soleil
Though clouds may try
C’est pas possible
D’arrete la Lumiere
Shes magnificent
Elle est magnifique
Et shines
Her crisp beauty
Pour moi
Toujours.
Jan 23, 2019
Jan 23, 2019 at 11:51 PM UTC