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Sarah Elizabeth Oct 2018
somehow,
i always manage to ruin something.
Anything.
Everything.
I wish the things id touch would turn to gold,
instead,
they turn to black.
Everything i love
turning back as if i were never there in the first place,
and i deserve it.
I
used to be so happy
and healthy
and sweet
now i am nothing
but petty
and toxic
and mean
i don't know when
or  how
but something inside of me died
like a flower left in a vase a little too long
i started to wilt away
started to lose my petals one by one
kindness.....
             Joy........
                        self love.......
Leaving me one at a time
and then seemingly
all at once
as if when the last petal fell
I died with it.
I dont know what to do with this carcass
of a girl who once was
except to hold it up
if only
to catch a few final rays of sun.
Olivia Oct 2012
The most beautiful flower

Within a field of growing weeds and brown leaves

It seems to take up all the light

besides all the dead and despair around it

Its petals are moist and the colors seem to change
to whatever they need to protect themselves from.

But, the blossom is too beautiful. 

Too consumingly appealing to whomever laid their eyes on it.

The sun’s rays were getting jealous and did no longer
want to shine on the pleasing leaves -
or on the strong roots or its inviting colors -
as they took away their shine and

were now filled with contempt.
Most of all the rays were jealous of what the flower could do.

Embezzle. Inspire and create. Dazzle.

It dazzled me.
The flower could not only extract happiness from its surroundings but it also gave.

It gave love. Love and comfort and happiness, friendship and enjoyment.
It gave a way for men to see through the bad and look at the good.

It tasted so sweet.



The flower fought, spurting out at some cautious moment
but it could not win

For it needed the rays gentle touch to grow and to

Exist.
Long after men spoke of the waste.

How such a beauty had perished,

And its power was no longer there to greet them like an old friend.

It was now only a myth,

One that no one really could remember

as it felt like a dimly lit memory,
one that played a yet unknown role in whatever faith there is to come.
It was not the beauty that men remembered now.

Only the waste.

As the good leaves no scars, and is scarcely treasured how it should.

But oh the waste. They spoke.
Such a waste.
mikumiku Dec 2018
I met her on a narrow street of old Verona
Her beauty’s magical, her name was Lady Mona
She rolled a cigarette between her diva fingers
A little cherry smoke around her gently lingers

She had a long deep fire-coloured autumn hair
That with the wind dance as if out of very care
Her eyes are brighter, gayer then azure sapphires
Two little diamonds that can start unholy fires

Her ******* are full of life, the sweetest goddess milk
It taste like childhood memories wrapped up in silk
The skin – an undiscovered lands of sinful wild
It sends you on a trip so rough yet very mild

She was so picturesque, a genuine sugarbomb
Like rays of sun that dazzle through a naked palm
I pray thee, Jupiter, align the heaven stars
And let me be the one who strikes of her guitars

Wish I could walk to her and ask her dearly out
I feel so brave yet nervous, want to scream and shout
I want to spill it out, express my inner passion
But that’s not me behaving in such crazy fashion

Hell to the no! I go! I’ll spit my fire lines!
I am a blonde! I curse those stupid *** designs
I’ll offer things to her, I promise I’ll pushy
****, I am gonna offer her my cola *****

If men be ***** models, I shall be one too
I have one in my mouth – a nasty point of view
If men can flirt and conquer, so can ******* I
This Aphrodite’s taken, she is only mine

I walk to her, approach her like the mighty Taurus
Rehearse my lyrics, shuffle through my love thesaurus
I smell perfume – ambrosia, nectar, lemonade…
Formation, hold up, queen of… ******* Lemonade..?

“What is the name of thee, do tell me, pretty dear
Just like the beauty goddess you to me appear
By any chance you are one of the youthful Graces?
Be careful, darling, I can see your leather laces”
....
Your soft strokes of brush
As if touches my dreamy springtime
Peaks love from the old trash
Where the endless fairy of rhyme
As I read this poem
So many times
It doesn't mean that
I have forgotten repeatedly
Just I have felt in too many ways
Yet a few lines of poem
Grows a new meaning of love
And emitting the dreaming rays
Even when I am passing through
The very pale days
...
..
without dream life is a frozen barren field
....
Tammy M Darby Aug 2013
Royalty
She dwells in the sea- green palace of her father
The mermaid swam alone on blustery days
The seed of the water god Neptune and a river nymph
Her beauty blind the sun and his morning rays

On days of boredom
She swam with the white dolphins
Riding high on heaving rolling waves
Other times with Omura's whales dive deep
Or play in a red coral reef bay
Tickling blue ***** that walked on the sandy bottom
Exploring the dark octopus caves

Floating often with the deadly jellyfish
Keeping her scaled tail very still
Or wiggling through the raging currents of the ocean
With the graceful ribbon eels

The day passed passed
She became weary
Came time to rest her head
Returned to the flowing green kelp palace
And did sleep on a starfish bed



All Rights Reserved @Tammy M Darby August 2013.
All Material Stored in Author Base
Xan Abyss Oct 2014
Tonight I will fall down upon my knees
To pray before the goddess of enchanted ebony
Her divine rays of dark beauty I embrace
Bathing blissfully in her enigmatic grace

I enter the sanctum
Her sacred place of healing
Ecstasy consumes me
Enraptured by the feeling

When the Moon of the Black Goddess
Shines Her light upon me
Then the Love of the Black Goddess
Drowns the world around me

Tonight I worship at the Temple of Her Light
I sacrifice my flesh to the goddess shining bright
The fire in my soul erupts and sets aflame my mind
On holy nights like these when the cosmos re-aligns

I enter the sanctum
Her sacred place of healing
Ecstasy consumes me
Enraptured by the feeling

When the Moon of the Black Goddess
Shines Her light upon me
Then the Lust of the Black Goddess
Burns the world around me

I submit myself to Her, naked and unguarded
Prepared to be consumed and then possibly discarded
For in her presence, all the evil in our pale existence
Vanishes from memory in a single instant

I enter the sanctum
Her sacred place of healing
Ecstasy consumes me
Enraptured by the feeling

When the Moon of the Black Goddess
Shines Her light upon me
Then the Mists of the Black Goddess
Shroud the world around me

The Moon of the Black Goddess
Cast thy spell upon me
The Moon of the Black Goddess
Looming right above me
The Moon of the Black Goddess
I give my flesh to worship thee!
For the Moon of the Black Goddess
Is the only place
I can find peace!

When the Moon of the Black Goddess
Shines Her light into me
Then the Tune of the Black Goddess
Becomes the song to set me free!
Wrote this for a lover.
Aa Harvey May 2018
Chernobyl.


A nuclear disaster, in a town called Chernobyl;
An odor-less killer, the invisible force.
As the radiation escapes, from the crumbling reactor,
We must cool it down, before it blows.


Evacuate Pripyat, the employee’s town,
The town of 35000; first on the list of infected people.
No warnings to the town folk, no evacuation,
The town’s men in the know, know the town is in trouble.  


People bathe in the sun’s rays, soaking up the sun,
Whilst the dizzy and sick, fall with blackened skin.
But the only burn you'll get, is a nuclear radiation,
That will **** you in the end, as it will lead to infection.


Send in the investigators,
To check the biggest nuclear explosion ever.
The rumble outside a final warning, the fire brigade are now here.
The firemen are next, to fall to radiation.
The workers wives at home, are still oblivious.
But now they see the smoke rising, over the town.
So they close all the windows, an in vein attempt to keep the radiation out.


The workers cry, as they learn how bad it is,
The horrifying sight, of a nuclear cloud.
All things infected, poisoned by the air,
DNA is mutated; the time to panic is now.


The bride and groom walk through the town,
Unknown to them, there is poison in the air.
3.6 on the scale, leaves no need to worry,
But the readout is wrong, as the gage goes no higher.


Do not wear masks, it will cause suspicion,
A press conference is called, 15 hours after the explosion.
The men in charge are scared of the truth, so do nothing,
The situation is now, worse than they think.


Faces burnt, comrade’s panic,
The nuclear core is burning, it's radio-active.
But panic is worse, than radiation,
So there will be no warning and no order for evacuation.


22 hours after explosion, think we'll leave it to burn,
But it will burn for 3 months and poison the air.
We must find a remedy, quickly and quietly,
Thousands of helicopter runs, to cool the burning hot core.
We must put sand on the reactor, to stop it burning,
Evacuating the town is nonsense;
Wait until we know what's happening.


First thing in the morning, we must evacuate only a day late,
The people must view pictures of their family
And kiss them goodbye.
The biggest nuclear explosion, the earth had ever known,
The town will become a wasteland, everyone will be gone


17000 kids, infected by the air,
Another 116000, people are evacuated.
The nuclear explosion in Russia, will radiate into Kiev
And Northern Ukraine will be uninhabitable,
For anything up to a century later.
And the towns people,
Could take the radiation with them into a new place,
So send them to Kiev with the poisoned nurses;
Infected by radiation, it burns their face.


Leave the pets behind, to become wild animals,
The army shoot the pets, because they can't live anymore.
All the people wear masks, to help themselves,
As they leave on the bus, their former lives are no more.


The skin folds down and falls from their bodies;
The men in the control room, at last begin to die.
The people are collapsing, all over the place,
The tears turn to burns, as the women begin to cry.


Drop sandbags into the reactor,
From helicopters whilst being infected,
We must cool it down and stop the fires burning.
We’re heading for meltdown, truly scared of the apocalypse,
'Count lives', means how many can we sacrifice.
Finding how many lives, it will cost to get the job done,
Unquestioned sacrifice and they were willing to go.


2 volunteers needed,
To swim under the reactor and open the valves by hand,
Swimming through poisoned water, this could **** you man.
If the water was cleared from inside,
There is no immediate threat of thermal explosion,
A million lives saved, said Gorbachev the president.


The A.Z. button was pressed, to lower the rods into the reactor,
But just the tips landed inside and shut it down.
A thermal explosion is on the way, to level 200 square kilometers
And wipe out Pripyat, Kyiv and 3 million citizens.


By day 3 they thought it must be a design fault,
By day 7 the radiations gone up and it’s getting hotter.
14 explosions in the past, were covered up,
This could take us years to clear up and make better.


60 days after the explosion, Moscow are told to shift the blame,
Chernobyl’s bosses had known, flaws in the design were classified.
Sat before the world in Vienna,
They blamed the men in the control room,
Even though they were ignorant, as to what would happen.
Not prepared enough, for a job so important,
A million lives in their hands; in the hands of the thoughtless.
Faulty design, in something so dangerous,
Will lead to our end, as were infected by rays, so radiant.


2 years after the accident, the inspector speaks out,
But his voice is covered up and his findings are not written down.
Valery Legasov, the inspector.  The man who made the reports.
The men in charge of the reactor, were sentenced to ten years.
The incidents of tumors rise to more than in Britain all together.
This will last for about a 100000 years,
The radiation will be there for almost forever.


(C)2013 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Anne Billinge Dec 2022
scoop rays of sunshine in my arms,
caressed by amber glow on my skin,
welcoming the golden taste on my lips
as I sweep through lush green meadows
garlanded by summer's bridal veil.

trees show off their delicate finery,
buds unfurl awakening from shy repose
and the river swishes her silvered tail,
necklaces of pearls strewn on her ripples,
breathless in her bubbling chatter.

clouds fly high in a dizzying azure sky,
white tresses trail kite tails chasing the breeze,
ears of golden wheat chaff my calves
as the sea of corn parts bowing in my wake
and I gather the swathes of golden rays.
Kaycee33 Aug 2012
Colonial mansion, in an ocean of grass,
windows aglow as I walk past.
funeral service now used of verandah,
but I hear music, not mournful stanza.
french doors open to a reminisce,
with boyhood heart, of vitreous.

Footfalls on parquet floors,
tux and gown past crown moulded doors.
captured ambiance of a setting sun,
shown from chandeliers highly hung,
day I was born, born the day of prom,
I smiled cordially, and my date fawned.

Girls betrothed by corsage on wrist,
rare french curls--a lunar eclipse.
bedraggled boys now dapper and genteel,
vest and bow-tie, a knightly feel.
chapperesses smiling at maidenly gait,
happy drowse in  mansion estate.

Cuff-links, silk gloves, nail polish of gloss,
beheld tonics and sweets, carefully aloft.
opening cord, an arrow from cupid's bow,
striking coquettes to their tippy toes.
they sprang to dance,I stepped back,
invisible in shadow with tux of black.

Shoulders, lake ripples easing to shore,
hips, gentle waves, right before they pour.
boys stiff, as if waists beheld sabers,
legs, sweeping brooms of on shore waiters.
"your too handsome to stay here unseen,"
said rivaling chaperess, past semblance of queen.

"You should dance ,"said glittered lips of pink,
bent like sparrow wings, during teacup drink.
privy to why in shadow I hid my blush,
her class my crush, that crushed me so much.

She strained me, even the shadows she gave,
black silk, stretching,--convex and concave.
crude metal and wood classroom seat,
clasped her waist of slender physique.
she was guarded by a window in curtain mail,
and tended to by servants of light and gale.
light loved her skin of Mediterranean sand,
and wind enthralled by each and every brown strand.

Light penetrated strands, blondly hot,
wind would blow, cooling pony tail off.
her shadow curtsied under my desk,
long legs danced in irritableness.
mourning class is abuzz with scent of prom,
flower not frost, rules the school's dawn.

I gave my consent, to an earlier invite,
then on, suitor blinded me with light.
and Great Gatsy, and looming prom night,
subjects of sparrow wings pressed tight.
" show of hands, who do not have a date?"
slender wrist arises, from an arm curvate.

alone, she shown that no one asked her,
this stone of Rome amongst boys of plaster.
hand fell with boy of teachers match,
wind shrouded her,from the window sash
rays gave discomfort,to gaze her way,
but I looked through burning ray--

To see a trace of a tear,in eyes ovate,
a goddess unsought, with sadful face.
I, poor, fatherless, could not possibly go,
to prom with princess of arched portico?
I could not interweave my hands to dance,
or know where I could place my glance.

Wind blew a scrap from her desk, indiscreet,
it was pierced by light at my feet.
"will" and "with" were dotted with a heart,
"prom" and "me" before most painful part.
my name in her beautiful free hand,
the color red from hearts inkstand.

(Class bell rings) I travel over star lit lawn,
the music gets louder as I return to prom,
eyes turn to cotton, in shadow as I ponder,
as pain was forgotten, I came upon her.
invisible hands, lifted my chin to a red shape,
our eyes met, her's smiling, mine agape.

Only a glass-maker could imagine my sight,
seeing hot curves form in dance floor light.
only a wax-wing could have rivaled her eyes,
waves gently broke to gown down her thighs.
"will you dance with me,"she softly entreated,
" I don't know how,"a coward repeated.

A princess which tournaments were held,
for which every timber of mansion were felled.
not for Rome the mansion's Corinthian column--
--for her--from quarry prom did befall them.
I could not tarnish this feminine form,
with my lineage in crown she adorned.

I turned from beauty, to dark acres tread,
under willow, I play the last thing she said--
my name--as I shunned from last chance,
now back under willow, cane marks my stance.
I have preserved her forever, shying fate,
even if it was with my own heart-break.

I still see her--in the most beautiful prom poses--
--still--as lights flicker out and a coffin closes.
Growly Wolfus Aug 2019
A single raindrop falls from the sky,
depressed in its loneliness as it descends.
It lands and drips down a grassy *****,
alone and forgotten.

A single raindrop falls from the sky.
It falls from dark clouds and gloomy air.
It brings nothing but sadness to the earth below
and desires only to be heard or seen.

A single raindrop falls from the sky,
felt only by a stranger.
It's wiped away, declared a nuisance,
and cast away from existence.

A single raindrop falls from the sky,
mistaken for a tear.
Thought to be from an angel of a lost age.
It merely stirs the dust.

A hundred raindrops fall from the sky,
all lonely but together.
They cause a splash and demand attention.
Still only felt by one.

A hundred raindrops fall from the sky,
unable to quench the earth's thirst.
They disappear, taken by the ground,
embraced for the last time.

A hundred raindrops fall from the sky.
Not a head turns to notice them.
They cry out loudly but cannot be heard,
vanishing as they land.

A thousand raindrops fall from the sky.
The clouds gather to watch the spectacle.
They grow darker as they bunch together,
warning those below of the coming.

A thousand raindrops fall from the sky
and tap people on the shoulder.
"Come watch us," they whisper before leaving.
Few people are left behind.

A thousand raindrops fall from the sky,
looking for an audience.
The people have left and taken their friends
to hide in the buildings they made.

A million raindrops fall from the sky,
and joyously, they sing.
They hit the ground, the cars, the roofs,
and make music for those in hiding.

A million raindrops fall from the sky.
They dance and cheer and smile.
The sun decides it wants to watch.
The light dances with raindrops for awhile.

A million raindrops fall from the sky,
accompanied by rays of gold.
They bring new color to the city of gray
and rejuvenate all of the old.

A gentle rain falls from the sky
and makes art upon the ground.
It quenches the earth's thirst and hums in our ears,
dancing to its own sound.

A gentle rain falls from the sky.
People watch with awe from behind glass.
Ignored by many, precious to captivated few.
They long for it to last.

A gentle rain falls from the sky
and gracefully sways in the breeze.
It brings forth calmness and a sense of peace.
It blesses the green fields and trees.

A gentle rain falls from the sky,
watched by a child with wonder.
It sends the breeze to lift the child
and brings them out from under.

A gentle rain falls from the sky
and splashes on window panes.
It plays with the child and hums sweet tunes
as it makes puddles in the traffic lanes.

A gentle rain falls from the sky
and ripples in the water.
A new world created, impossibly calm.
It makes the child an offer.

A gentle rain falls from the sky
and whispers in the child's ear.
"Wait for me.  I will return.
I won't leave you alone here."

A gentle rain falls from the sky
and sings goodbye to the child.
The clouds dissipate as the sun takes over.
The departing rain simply smiles.

A million raindrops fall from the sky,
murmuring farewells and goodbyes.
Each gives the child a tender hug
as the color returns to the skies.

A thousand raindrops fall from the sky,
then a hundred, then one.
The single raindrop kisses the child
standing alone in the sun.

No longer do raindrops fall from the sky,
but a child waits for them.
To dance and sing and draw and play,
with the gentle rain again.
I LOVE the rain.  I wrote this after a gentle rainfall and listening to one of my favorite songs.
The child in the poem does not necessarily represent age, but more awe and feelings I have when I watch the rain.  It's so peaceful.  I feel like a child whenever I watch it or sit in it.
Kiss the Rain - Yiruma
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=so6ExplQlaY
ryn Mar 2015
Hues of violet
As the azure meets the reddened sun
Sparse deflated clouds
Floated quiet as into each other, the colours run

Lavender streaks
Trail far into the horizon
Tracking the sunset
As the hour struck seven

Purple gladioluses
Bowed to the evening sea breeze
As if mourning the departure
Of the day's warmth with silent pleas

The orb finally sank
Beyond my sight could reach
Disappeared from here
But rising over someone else's beach

Last dregs of light
Slowly swallowed, giving birth to indigo
This night would last long
Before the first rays of tomorrow...
Pauper of Prose Aug 2018
Stories browsed by the bedside of budding of children
Told of all the adventure that awaited us
So I ran amok with my compatriots
Every one of us wreathed in youth
Burning with the boundless fuel
Of curiosity
From the streets spilled opportunities
Of Fame, Of Wealth, Of Love
Then eventually the Sun rays Bent
Before bleeding upon the stone
So that we traversed on bricks of yellow
Until sore legs led us
To an enchanted emerald mirror
And as we stared we began to wheeze
Seeing a frail old wizard or witch
Wondering “why” with a whimper
As curtains cradling clocks, crash upon us
An Ode to Oz an Ode to Youth
Logan Robertson Apr 2017
My little deer
Is that you
peeking between the trees
peering at the stag
but your heart's
still not at ease
... time ago
a short time
a stray cupid's arrow
shot the night air
splitting your spirit in two
frightened you took off
from the foreboding
hiding in a lea
there was sun
and cloudless skies
but not really
as your insides
raged
in a storm
in a hourglass
with sand pebbles fighting
to heal
for the best
now as you peer
between the trees
of salvation
do you hear
birds singing near a brook
... songs sung
so beautiful
in concerto
with the chipmunks, *****, crickets
then, as you take
that step forward
so lion hearted
peering
between those
branches
of redemption
my little deer
are there rays
of sunshine
peeking back

LR-4/23/17
This poem I write with passion, mainly because the deer personifies all the women in my life that walked away.
Sibyl Vane Mar 2014
"She will dance with me,"
He murmured to himself,
"If I bring her a white rose,
Pure as a snowflake,
And sweet as a summer day."

Sitting there in the garden,
His blue eyes fell shut
As the wind ran her fingers
Through his dark hair.
His lips parted in a sigh,
Enjoying the warm afternoon sun
And the thoughts of the one he loves.

"His is the song I've sung
My entire life,"
Chirped the little nightingale,
"Without knowing it,
I have told his story a thousand times
To the moon and the stars
That light the night sky.
I've sung of hope and joy
And True Love and
Happily Ever Afters
To the trees and the flowers
That in this garden grow."

But the young man cried,
"But I have no rose to give her!"
He covered his face with his hands
And cried.
His whole body shook
As the hope for real love,
The kind that many people
Spend their whole lives looking for
In all the wrong places,
Flew away in the wind.
"She'll never realize I am the one for her,
If I cannot find a white rose
And ask her to dance,"
He cried.

The little nightingale's heart was touched
By the young lover.
She cried out her song for him,
For all the lost loves in the world.
He, she determined, was not going to be one of them.
The nightingale decided that
She would find him a rose,
With which he could woo the girl he so loved.

She flew on delicate wings to the rose bush
That grew beside the fountain.
"If you would give me a pure white rose,
I will sing you my sweetest song
All the nights of my life."
But the rose bush answered,
"I have only yellow roses,
Bright as lemons and sunshine,
And sweet as springtime honey.
Ask my brother who climbs the arbor,
He may give you what you desire."

So the sweet nightingale flew to the rose vine
That was tangled on the arbor.
"If you would give me a pure white rose,
I will sing you my sweetest song
All the nights of my life."
But the rose vine replied,
"I have only pink roses,
Pink as a maiden's blush
On the day she weds her beau.
Ask my brother who grows
Under the young man's window.
He may give you what you desire."

So the nightingale flew to the rose bush
That grew under the young man's window.
"If you would give me a pure white rose,
I will sing you my sweetest song
All the nights of my life."
To which the rose bush replied,
"I have only red roses,
Dark and rich as faerie wine,
Red as the blood of your heart,
Sweeter than stolen kisses under the moon.
But I can give you a white rose."
Filled with hope and joy,
The nightingale replied,
"I will give anything for a white rose,
What must I do?"
The rose bush shook its petals sadly.
"The way is too awful.
I cannot tell you."
The nightingale knew the value of love;
She would do anything for the rose.
"There is a way, little bird.
By moonlight you must come close
And press you breast against my thorns.
Love is sharp and you must not be afraid.
You must sing your sweetest song all night,
And press closer to me,
Until my thorn pierces your heart
And all your heart-blood runs out.
It is the only way."

The nightingale thought about this.
"What price would not be paid for love?
How much greater is the love of this young man
Than the life of a little bird?
This I will gladly do,
For true love's sake."

So the nightingale flew across the garden,
Where the lover had not yet dried
The tears from his eyes.
His cheeks were stained
Pink with his sadness,
His eyes shimmered with tears yet unreleased.
She sang to him to be hopeful,
To believe in his love,
And that all will be well.
The blue-eyed young man
Smiled at the nightingale,
For her song was beautiful,
Though he did not understand.

The nightingale flew about the garden,
Enjoying the beauty of life.
She sang to the oak trees and the daffodils,
And they wept that they would not hear her song again.
They were comforted that she would be silenced for love,
For love has no price too great.

The earth ate the last rays of the sun
And the moon shone
Wan and pallid in the night sky.
She, too, was sad to hear only this one last song
From the nightingale.

Then the bird flew to the red rose bush
And pressed her breast against the thorn.
She sang her sweetest song.
It was so beautiful that all the dead lovers of the world
Shuddered in their graves
With the reminder of the love in life,
The wind joined her voice with the nightingale's
And carried her song to the ends of the the earth,
To the darkest caves where Echo returned it,
To the ocean's waves that kept the time,
To the peaceful moors where the grass danced along,
To the sleeping child to give her sweet dreams.

"Closer, closer!"
Urged the rose bush,
"I must taste your heart's blood
Before dawn,
Or the rose will not be done."

So the nightingale pressed closer still to the thorn
As the rose bush spun the most beautiful rose
It had ever spun.
But red! A red red rose it was.
"Closer still!"
Cried the rose bush,
And the nightingale pressed closer until her heart was pricked.
A bolt of pain struck the nightingale
And her song rang out through the garden,
Her melody, sweet with love and anguish,
Reached the ears of the young man.
He sat up in his bed,
And was so moved by the nightingale's song,
He stayed awake to listen.

As the nightingale's heart-blood poured onto the rose,
The reddest rose washed white as a freshly fallen snow,
Her tears mingled with the blood,
For only blood can wash out blood,
And only tears can heal.
And so the red rose became white,
As dewdrops and starlight,
As the nightingale's voice grew faint.
And she fell to the ground as the first breath of dawn
Shone gray on the horizon.

The whole garden heaved a sigh
As the nightingale's song was done.
A chorus of flowers and crickets and wind
Sang their mournful song
For the little nightingale
Who gave her life for love.

When the sun had risen in the sky,
The young man walked out into the garden
And saw the white rose.
Carefully he cut it, admiring its beauty.
He did not notice the nightingale,
Laying dead on the ground.

He gazed at the rose in awe,
And inhaled its damask perfume.
It smelled of starlight and sweet dreams,
Of mothers' lullabies and midnight kisses,
Of laughter and heartache,
Of True Love and tender death.

"This is the rose for my beloved,"
He said to himself,
And he prepared himself for the ball.

That night, when the sun had set again,
He met his fair lady, whom he so dearly loved.
"This rose is for you, so that you will dance with me."
He handed her the rose, the white rose with no thorns.
She took it gently, breathing in its scent.

"Dear boy, I will dance with you tonight."

He took her hand and led her out onto the floor.
They danced and danced
All through the evening,
More than rules of decency allow.
She smiled and laughed and fell in love.

When the evening closed
And it was time to go home,
She held the white rose close to her heart
And breathed in its sweet perfume.
Her heart was happy
And faintly, a nightingale's song
Seemed to whisper in her ear.
She grabbed the young man by the hand,
The man whom she loved.

"I will dance with you all the nights of my life,
If you so desire," she whispered.
"My darling, I desire no more," the young man smiled,
His blue eyes sparkling in the lamplight.

For love is a silly thing.
It is not half so useful as logic,
But it is twice so important.
True Love tells only things
That are the most true.
It tells of joy and comfort,
But also of sacrifice and pain.
And in this age,
Though to be practical is everything,
Love is the most important of all.
This was inspired by Oscar Wilde's short story, The Rose and the Nightingale, and a couple lines were taken from the Ballad of Reading Gaol, among other works by Wilde. I didn't like how his story ended, so I changed it. It's a story of love and sacrifice now, instead of being a picture of the modern day. It's hope.
Shiv Pratap Pal Jun 2019
I hate Science
I hate Technology

Neither Am I Orthodox
Nor I am Fool

I am not a *****
But still I choose to hate

Science and Technology
Both gave us many things

I remember, there was a time
I worshipped both of them

They produced machines for us
They produced robots for us

Machines started building
Homes, Bridges and Flyovers

Machines helped us in
Food and Cloth Production

Milk and Silk Production
And Blah Blah Blah Blah

They made our life easier
They made our life safer

They provided better security
They provided better tools

They made our life longer
They made our life smarter

They gave us rays of hope
They promised much more

They promised more Freedom
They Promised Leisure Time

They promised better Environment
They promised clean Air, Water, Soil

They Promised Harmony and Peace
They Promised Equality for All

Both Science and Technology
Progressed exponentially day by day

But something went wrong
Someone captured them

Hijacked them and misused
By applying their ***** minds

We still have Machines and Robots
We still have Logic and Skills

But where is Freedom and Peace?
Where is the clean Environment?

Where is clean Water, Air and Soil?
Where is the promised Leisure Time?

Now we also have Nuclear Bombs
We have weapons of mass ******

We have smart tools for our Extinction
We have weapons of mass Destructions

Robots are being transformed
From Robots to Human Beings

Humans are being transformed
From Human Beings to Machines

Yes Slavery is back in the Game
Machines have enslaved Humans

Robots have been granted
Citizenship and Civil Rights

Machines have been made ready
Ready to wage war against humans

The question is who is the culprit?
Is it Science and Technology?

No. Not at all. I know this very well
But I still hate Science and Technology

The real culprits are the hungry Capitalists
Who captured, hijacked and misused

Science and the Technology for their greed
Though they have all the things they need

Science and the Technology easily surrendered
and allowed themselves to be used for their greed

This is why I Hate Science and Technology
I also hate Capitalism and Capitalists too

But I have a big question for Myself. I still doubt -
"Can I really live without Science and Technology"
I Hate Science and Technology, What about You?? You also Hate Science and Technology or do you hate me???
Marian Sep 2013
The moon's rays shine under the ocean,
The beautiful blue waves are in motion,
There is a full moon tonight;
And it is shining beautiful and bright.
The beautiful fishes are swimming under the ocean,
Listen to the sound of the ocean,
All kinds of ocean plants are growing under the waves;
I love the moonlit rays.
There's only a slight sunset in the sky,
A shooting star falls from way up high,
Little twinkling stars light the dark sky;
It is so beautiful I begin to cry.
Oh I love this enchanting scene,
Everything is so beautiful just like a dream,
This place is beautiful beyond belief;
This beautiful place called Dolphin Reef.

*~Marian~
Patrick Ramsey Nov 2020
I always try to see the true spirit
And though I look past appearance
Your beauty writes all my lyrics
This love I feel, you have to hear it

Because
I shake.. When I'm without you
Baby I break.. Hope that I'm found soon
Pray that I wake.. For you I'm proud to
If the sun rays.. Are too much I'll shroud you
Keep you in my shade
While sun rays make me bake

Baby if you promise only
Just to not break and disown me
I'll be down forever
Keep you from being lonely
I don't have many answers..
Questions lately feel like cancer..
I'm not really one for banter..
But for you I'll raise my standards

Because
I shake.. When I'm without you
Baby I break.. Hope that I'm found soon
Pray that I wake.. For you I'm proud to
If the sun rays.. Are too much I'll shroud you
Keep you in my shade
While sun rays make me bake

I've been... On the run
From myself.. Ive come undone
Too ashamed.. To see the sun
Heartbreak.. Doomed to love no one
Then you came.. I think you're the one
I'll take.. The whole world for you ***
Stay with me.. And we can have some fun
Watch the world bake.. From the smoke on our guns

Because
I shake.. When I'm without you
Baby I break.. Hope that I'm found soon
Pray that I wake.. For you I'm proud to
If the sun rays.. Are too much I'll shroud you
Keep you in my shade
While sun rays make me bake
alanie Nov 2019
that girl with blue eyes
ice-cold rays of rising flames
how gentle they seemed

those darkened clouds cried
and im a fool
for thinking the tears were real
M Harris May 2017
Through Prismatic Stairways & Monochromatic Sways,
Under Cinematic Rays,
She Twinkles In Ecstatic Daze,

In Her Promiscuous Silence,
With Spatial Violence,
She Enlivens My Sins In Her Aphrodisiac Vehemence,

Her Fake Plastic Smiles,
Under The Vienna Skies,
In Blank Reflections Under Disguise,
With Her Wings Of Destiny, She Sensationalizes,

With Her Spectral Prayers & Kryptonite Searchlights,
She Rains Her Ethereal Affairs, Painting Satellite Twilights,

Her Effervescent Fantasies,
Orchestrating Crescent Intimacies,
Verses Perpetuating Into Iridescent Complexities,

A Stellar Starlight Dazzling In Stardust,
Like An Astral Butterfly She Flounces In Lusts,

On Her Audiotronic Escapades,
Serenading Under The Symphonic Shades,
She Transmutes Into An Iconic Mermaid.

- 02:32AM
Dreamer Mar 2015
Bright, glowing rays slanting through naked branches.
Crisp air and moving masses of formed metal.
Kept beards, tattoos, rising wisps of coffee roast.
Nat Lipstadt Oct 2013
I am a man, grandfather to four.
Adherent to the same religion,
Poetry.

Breathing through mine eyes,
Exhaling carbon words,
That with time and pressure become
Poems, verbal musical notes upon life.

Each motion, from tiny to grand,
A capsule of expression,
That if examined under microscope,
Familial DNA, interconnected tissue,
Discovered, tho logic says,  
Time and distance render impossible.

But this is a diamond
This is a writ to be slipped
Upon the finger, the heart, the essence,
Of the only Banyan tree I have hugged.

This poem but a fig,
In the cracks of kindness,
The crevices of caring,
It has slow germinated.

You dear, Sally,
My host,
A building upon I can lean,
When wearied spirits uproot
My surficial composure.

Your seeds carried from east to west,
By a fig wasp, a bird unknown,
An ocean voyager, of indisputable vision, strength.

This seeded messenger, word carrier,
Supplanted in me, and your pupils,
Jose-Bolima-Remillan
Xavier-Paolo-Joshh-Mandrez
Whose very names breathe poems,
in others too, like me and Atu,
Seeds to become new roots, but you,
Our Host official and forever
Planter of trees of loving kindness.

You already know with love and affection,
I call you Grandma Sally,
And when you ask, beseech,
I cannot refuse.

Together we will will banish the sad,
Acknowledge we, that life's ocean,
A mixture of many, even sad, a necessity.

But I promise that will turn it into
Something simple, something good.
For you have asked and I answer you
Right here right now - your wish,
My objective, deep rooted like you,
Like an old banyan tree,
Your roots spread far, spread wide.

So some eve, when to the beach, to the sky
You glance, smile, no matter what, troubles dispersed,
For the reflection of you, seeds, full fledged trees now,
Bending skywards, in search of your rays of expression,
Your maternal wisdom rooted, spread so wide, globally,
All over this Earth, is visible from your
Beloved Philippines.


---------------------------------------
In her own words..

I am a widow,
with five remarkable granddaughters....
all beautiful, intelligent girls.
It is such a waste not to write....
each morning that unfolds is filled
with things to write about....
the people, the birds,
the trees, the wind,
the seas,
everything we set our eyes on,
they are all
poetry in motion.
Life itself is poetry,
I always have pen and paper within reach.
My past experiences are a
never-ending source
of ideas and words for my poems....
I shall write until time permits me,
"til there's breath within me."

-------------------------------------------------
A banyan (also banian) is a fig that starts its life as an epiphyte (a plant growing on another plant) when its seeds germinate in the cracks and crevices on a host tree (or on structures like buildings and bridges). "Banyan" often refers specifically to the Indian banyan or Ficus benghalensis, the national tree of India,[1] though the term has been generalized to include all figs that share a characteristic life cycle...
Like other fig species (which includes the common edible fig Ficus carica), banyans have unique fruit structures and are dependent on fig wasps for reproduction. The seeds of banyans are dispersed by fruit-eating birds. The seeds germinate and send down roots towards the ground.

The leaves of the banyan tree are large, leathery, glossy green and elliptical in shape. Like most fig-trees, the leaf bud is covered by two large scales. As the leaf develops the scales fall. Young leaves have an attractive reddish tinge.[6]

Older banyan trees are characterized by their aerial prop roots that grow into thick woody trunks which, with age, can become indistinguishable from the main trunk. The original support tree can sometimes die, so that the banyan becomes a "columnar tree" with a hollow central core. Old trees can spread out laterally using these prop roots to cover a wide area.
Over 1900+ reads as Nov. 10th.
Sally, That is a lot of friends and admirers you have!
Uncharmable charmer
Of Bacchus and Mars
In the sounding rebounding
Abyss of the stars!
O ****** in armour,
Thine arrows unsling
In the brilliant resilient
First rays of the spring!

By the force of the fashion
Of love, when I broke
Through the shroud, through the cloud,
Through the storm, through the smoke,
To the mountain of passion
Volcanic that woke ---
By the rage of the mage
I invoke, I invoke!

By the midnight of madness: -
The lone-lying sea,
The swoon of the moon,
Your swoon into me,
The sentinel sadness
Of cliff-clinging pine,
That night of delight
You were mine, you were mine!

You were mine, O my saint,
My maiden, my mate,
By the might of the right
Of the night of our fate.
Though I fall, though I faint,
Though I char, though I choke,
By the hour of our power
I invoke, I invoke!

By the mystical union
Of fairy and faun,
Unspoken, unbroken -
The dust to the dawn! -
A secret communion
Unmeasured, unsung,
The listless, resistless,
Tumultuous tongue! -

O ****** in armour,
Thine arrows unsling,
In the brilliant resilient
First rays of the spring!
No Godhead could charm her,
But manhood awoke -
O fiery Valkyrie,
I invoke, I invoke!
Jim Marchel Sep 2016
We will never forget...

The last day dawns on my life
And I don't know it
As I wake up to golden rays
Of sun knocking on my eyelids.

I kissed my wife good morning,
Got up out of bed
And tucked her in again.
Naomi spent 10 hours last night
Delivering a new mother's firstborn.
I didn't tell her good morning
And I wish I told her I loved her
But I didn't want to wake her.

I sipped my coffee on the way to work
As if it were any other day,
My only worry was if I had spilled any
On the new pink and white
Polka-dot tie my daughter Elise
Had bought me for my birthday
Last weekend
Or the new Bostonian shoes
My wife gave me
With the card that read,
We love you from top to bottom!

I walked into the conference room
And checked my watch:
8:36.
I was 9 minutes early
To the most exciting moment
Of my career:
My first pitch as project manager
For the new country club going up
East of the city in Glenwood Landing.

I was 10 minutes early
To the most helpless moment
Of my life.

At 8:45 I said good morning
To many fine ladies and gentlemen...
Bankers, lawyers, city representatives,
A union boss, some secretaries,
And a stenographer in the back.

The same words I would never again say to my wife and child...

And immediately I was thrown
Through the air
And knocked against the righthand wall
Of the room.
I was utterly confused
And my face burned
From the coffee I had been holding
That now stained
My beautiful polka-dot tie.

It would be nothing compared to the heat I would soon face.

Outside our 111th-story window
Rose an obsidian plume of smoke.
We all knew something terrible
Had happened just a few floors below.

The fine ladies and gentlemen
Of a moment ago
Quickly turned into uncivilized beasts
As the lights went out
And the piercing scream of the fire alarm
Shouted louder than the new mother
Experiencing the pain
Of her first childbirth.

Smoke very quickly came from below
And filled the floor with the foulest odor
I had ever smelled:
Burning rubber, sulfur,
And burnt hair.
Others in the room sealed the door shut
With expensive overcoats and undershirts
From Armani and Burberry.

They tried the phone countless times
But the line was dead.
I looked down at my watch
As a bead of sweat fell from my brow
And landed on my new tie:
9:11.

Today's date.

The fire alarm got tired of yelling
And the room was filled with an
Uncomfortable rumbling sound...

Flames...

...and the hysterical wails of the
Fine ladies and gentlemen in the room.
Some prayed, some wept together,
Others wept alone.
The one thing we all had in common
Was the persistent coughing
From the obsidian smoke
Slicing our lungs.

I looked down at my watch:
9:23.
The heat was now almost unbearable.
We huddled around the window
Jack or John or Jim smashed
With the powerful throw
Of a mini-refigerator.

When I gazed out the window
At the same sun that kissed my eyelids
This morning,
I was calm.
I thought of Naomi, who was
Surely watching on television
As her family called her to make sure
Her and I and Elise were alright.

Daddy's alright, baby girl.

I'm alright, Naoms.

9:31...
Gary or Greg was the first to jump.

I'll make it home to you, angels.

9:32...
Sophia or Cynthia was next.

Please, God, get me out of here...

9:33...
Jack or John or Jim
And Patty or Peggy
Were each other's last hug
As they fell
Like two stars from heaven.

9:35...
I couldn't see
And I couldn't breathe.
The sunlight was the last thing to kiss me.

Before I jumped
I felt my girls.
I touched the tie on my neck
And the shoes on my feet.

I love you both

From top to bottom.
We will never forget...
Geetha Jayakumar Jan 2015
A beautiful flower of peace shone bright
Along with the morning  sun rise full of light
But a naughty bee came to sting the flower
As jealousy crept in its eyes
couldn't withstand the sight of glowing flower
And a heavy wind blew away all the petals of peace.

Next morning again sun rose to its peak
Spreading the rays of warmth and delight
The flower of Peace once again woke up
On seeing the rays of powerful light.

How can a flower of peace die,
When every sun rays cheers it from all the sides.
Flower of peace is the reflecting diamond,
It will pass on the reflection of light everywhere,
which it receives from the sun.

Flower of peace cannot wither away,
As there is always someone to water and nurture it well.
Please keep on passing this flower of peace one to one
Keep on passing as long as humanity sustains.
Let it spread the message of peace and love.

Let not the Flower Of Peace wither away!

Geetha Jayakumar

©ALL RIGHTS RESERVED BY GEETHA JAYAKUMAR 2014
© 2014 Geetha Jayakumar
Peace
Basil Gentleman Aug 2019
as my lover swims
in the blue waters
under the golden Sun
the birds sing a song of love.
she stands alone
perfectly
in a sea of pearls.
the Sun rays shine upon on her milky skin.
Neptune's kingdom was built for her
LexiSully Jun 2016
He is a beacon of light amidst the darkness,
Whose brightness scatters the night,
Whose rays carry light to every corner of the earth.

He is the hopeful joy among the sorrow,
Whose smile lifts any face,
Whose spirit gives hope for a new day.

He is the music echoing through the silence,
Whose sound clings to every ear,
Whose rhythm will never be forgotten.

He is the simple inspiration whispered into ears,
Whose glad tidings create a picture for a brighter day,
Whose hope brings perseverance.

How could he, filled with inspiration, emanating kindness, fail to notice his worth?

Then all at once, he looks up, surveying the sparkling sky,
hearing the robin's tune,
admiring the smiles on faces passing by,
and knows that his impact on the world is interminable.
Colm Dec 2019
I miss you like the December earth
      Misses the sunlit rays on a cloudy day
Cold for you I yearn each dawn
      And churn and burn as the aching Pacific waves
A crashing hope upon wishes bent
      At 11:12 my world set straight  
And all that a man can do is wish
      That this will be the fated day
You walk into my life
      And stay
A storybook demands this stop. As Hollywood would guide me down the inevitable plot. But as for me and my house, I wait and burn for a deeper love.

Ick, screens are so shallow. LOL.
Adam Schwab Dec 2012
Oh blue eyed baby accept this ring.
Make me the happiest human being
5 years have passed and our quarrels far dwindled
But our fire still burns from the pile we kindled
10 years and 10 more; I will always adore
My blue eyed baby, forevermore

“Till death do us part”, we said long ago
Now 50 years past right out the window
My eyes start to twitch and twinkle with mime
But my love for you only grows deeper with time
As my thoughts start to dwindle and turn into chime
I’ll always remember, my blue eyed baby will always be mine

Your memories fading and hair color too
And our hearts are still red and your baby eyes blue
Grasp tight of my hand and don’t let it slip
I feel my life tripping out of its tick

The morning rays shine through the pains of our room
In our beds we await for our call to our tombs
The time is not far; it’s coming soon
But the blues eyes of yours baby will continue to bloom
Forever and ever.
I mean it
**I do.
Nickols Oct 2012
Red is for the blood split.
Three drops; no more, no less.
Plucked upon a roses thorny edge.

Down

Drop

They

Drop

Tumbled.

Drop

­A stark contrast against the blanket of the whitest snow.
A wish was all it took,
For a spell had been woven through true loves magic.

The Queen belly, twas ripe with babe--
A princess-
skin white as snow,
lips red as glittering ruby's
and hair black as nights coal.

Her name:
Well Snow White, of course.
Or so the legend has told.

For what comes next is quite tragic.
For all magic comes with a toll;
An equivalent exchange:
a life, for a soul.

The babe was born on the morning rays, as for told.

With skin white as snow,
lips red as glittering ruby's
and hair black as nights coal--
For the Queen's last wish held true.

But for the King,
He grieved his sorrow for his lost beloved.
His happily ever-after crumbled throughout his kingdom-
like a wicked plague itself.

A Witching Queen rising in the true Queens place.
A evil stepmother-
for sweet innocent Snow White.

This vain diabolist, weaved her dark spell.
A magical looking glass-
appeared in front of her face.

"Magic mirror on my wall
Who is the fairest of them all"


The enchanted piece of glass
swirled and looped and then spoke.

"My Queen,
you are full of fair,
it is true,
but on this day
Snow White is fairer than you"


With a mighty jealous roar-
this Evil Queen called for her Huntsman.
To **** the one that might dare, to be fairer, then she--

Snow White's heart in a box
was the bounty!
because in the end the child needed to die.
For no one was fairer then the vainest of the Queens.

But you see:
The Huntsman of this Baneful Queen,
could not **** one such as sweet and fair as
the one know as:
Snow White.

A deer's heart,
is what is sent back in the Queens box;
But what became of dearest Snow White, you say?

Well: She went to live in the woods,
A small tiny cottage,
with seven little dwarfs.

What are their names, you ask?
Lets see:
There is--

Blick
&
then there is,
Flick
don't forget,
Glick
or then,
Plick,
wait a second.
Don't forget about,
Snick,
&
Whick,
and most important,
Quee.

And if you do not know them by these names,
what about:
*****,
Then Grumpy
Doc,
&
Happy
Sleepy and
Sneezy,
don't forget about,
Bashful.

They protected their fair Snow White,
from the Hideous Queen.
And for two year-
they kept her safe.

Until:
The Evil Queen conjured her magic,
and when the enchanted mirror gleamed back at her,
she queried--

"Magic mirror on my wall
Who is the fairest of them all"


The enchanted piece of glass
swirled and looped and then spoke once more.

"My Queen,
you are full of fair,
it is true,
but still too this day,
the young Queen,
is a thousand times fairer than you"


The Queen knew she had been tricked--
A wicked plan had been struck.
A old hag hid the Queens' face well.

Red is the color of ripened apple,
disguising the greenest of deadliest poison.
One bite: was all it took.
Snow White, asleep for all times.

But you see,
All magic comes with a toll.
And a true loves kiss, broke the spell.

This is a story about over coming the greatest of evil.
A reminder:
the light will always prevail.
© Victoria
Paddy Martin Jan 2011
I pray thee sun thou should set,
or take thy leave better yet,
wouldst at last my thirst be gone,
But alas thee linger, and linger on.

There be no flower not yet dead,
no water flows in yonder river bed.
'Tis a heat where nought doth grow,
nor doth thee ever mercy show.

Dry of skin and parch of throat,
a man doth need no overcoat.
Thy rays doth burn mine eyes,
they do not hear mine mercy cries.

If there be a place where chill be found,
'Tis there it be that I be bound,
A place where there be no burning sun,
show it to me, so to it I shall run.

(c) 26th January 2010
with apoligies to all you Shakespeare freaks
I was thinking how Will would have handled our Oz summer heat.
Josh Koepp Oct 2012
Every morning i greet the sun smelling like jasmine and spice
the rays roll through my window
bend nicely and tip their hats only to figure out
that i am a man
and they switch between reaching down to kiss my hand
something they subconsciously planned
ever since that smell of sensual perfume heated up
even the hottest, and the coolest
made them too woozy to stand
they switch to an improvised hand shake
their mother told them not to judge on every
first impression that they make
but they smell my personality
my mannerisms and the way i walk and talk
WAFTED into their nostrils
like some woman dolled up before a date
with no one
to sit alone and say
"** hum"
and wait for the casual wreck of a man to walk in
to punch his time card and clock in
to commit sin upon this woman

but no

their nostrils and their eyes
seem to not agree
on what is
me

i wake up smelling like jasmine and spices
like a woman who spent all night in sin
taking pleasure from her vices
and i waft into every man and womans nostrils

and their eyes say man

their nose says woman so it seems
so they think i must be something in between

when in reality i smell like this because
i spent an entire night in love
with someone i lost the next day
and in our own way she brought her oils
for me to serve and slave her body with
and i wasn't ashamed of it

i spilt the oils all over our bodys they caressed us
and gave every motion an unstoppable velocity
every situation was slippery
and things that shouldnt have been
almost came to be

as we slept the oils clocked out
and slid down our still interlocked bodies and into the bedspread
it opened up its homestead
and buried its dead, started families and grew in number
until the population of the smell was too strong
too strong and the one i shared the smell with
was gone

but i hold that night fondly
i hold it above my head in all its glory
and when i am judged by my scent and called
gay
***
or questioned of my sexuality
i just tell them
i'm being the scent i smelled when i discovered my masculinity
when i tried gender fusion and it didn't quite work
but i covered every other base
i swear my good sir

so ill tell you one thing
i am not an inbetween because i have never joined in the sweet final base
into sweet sexuality
with the opposite *** making man and woman
into man-woman
the in between

what i really mean is i am not what you think of me
i am 100% man until i find the right woman
a beautiful sight in the sunlight
and when night falls and i cant see her at all
i can find even more things i like
to take that from me
and i will give it up gladly

i am a man
as much as any man woman
or man man is
and stereotypes are for those who dont understand
that there IS no difference.
Sometimes in our darkest times, we are given a miracle of hope
It reaches out like a golden rope for us to grab and hold onto
Rays of hope

Sometimes it’s a bright light that shines through the darkness
Offering a path towards the light
Rays of hope

When this happens we should know things will get better
It is affirmation to never give up
Even in the toughest of times we should believe
Rays of hope

We are each unique and here for a reason
Our purpose is before us

Rays of hope
Seán Mac Falls Jul 2012
.
I have seen her playing
With light, edging her hair,
In crescents so fair.

I have watched her fingers
Twirl and twine, beaming gold,
Threshing precious hold.

I have witnessed the taming
Of the sun's rays, captured,
Spinning in rapture.

And I feel for the pale moon
Who offers his frail, vestige light,
While she sleeps at night.
B Dec 2012
some days are like sun rays, in my eyes, some days, i can't see the sun, i shade, get it out of my eyes, the sun's disguise, behind the clouds i envision demise...when the earth collides, and the world explodes, where will i call home, i'll be on my own, in the galaxy a float, looking for another man on a boat, it's just me, out here in the space, nothing else to chase, my dreams are a float, i cannot see home, through the air i roam, and now i finally feel safe. just me in outer space.
Sheldon Dsouza Feb 2015
That genuine smile of yours delicate and mild,
Can soothe senses and tempers gone wild.
A raging storm with ease you can calm,
That smile of yours is ever so warm.

It takes you only a few seconds to flex those ****** muscles,
To brighten the days of millions amongst all the hustle, bustle and tussles.
Your smile is so priceless and pure,
For it all pain one can endure.

It’s like the rays from a billion suns shining bright,
Dazzling and sparkling like the brightest light.
It gives that extra glow to your face,
Making everyone’s heart beat race.

It’s like the most pricey jewel one could admire,
Among millions it could spark a burning desire.
Every smile you pass is like a treasure,
Making the few lucky, millionaires for sure.

But when you frown in the saddest of ways,
It’s like the happiness in the world has gone out of gaze.
Dark clouds fill the overhead sky,
Rain starts pouring as the heavens begin to cry.

It’s like the world hits a note so low,
Their happiness takes that heavy blow.
An empty feeling fills the hearts of those,
Who once with your smile happily would rose.

So smile because the world smiles with you,
Cry and the world sobs with you too.
Times may get you down in life,
But don't give up the strife.

Don't let those pearls from your eyes fall,
For someone or something who wasn't worth it after all.
So keep smiling day in and day out,
And brighten the lives of those you move about...
If you can imagine a world where sunlight
drops
from
the
sky
and forms radiant puddles all around...

If you can imagine a world where rays
of
    rain
           glisten
                      above
and form an aquatic blanket for us...

That is the world where you and I will be together.
Jenny Oct 2012
Rain is really rainy
running, rolling round'
rendering rhythms on
roofs rather randomly
yet really relying on
rays reaching right
as rehearsed.
Kalarav Sep 2017
I can barely see the Sun now.
It's slowly drowning into a pool of clouds,
turning a shade darker as it does so,
like a red bindi in the sky.
Awed by the mysterious beauty
I stand there starring.
Orange, pink and red clouds
fading into a deep blue.
The rest of the sky is covered with tiny shiny dots
and silhouettes of birds flying home
on the amber background.
The Sun's glowing like a jasper
and slowly it's completely under the horizon,
but a few rays cut through the clouds
like closing doors of the Heavens.
After the sunset the sky is a different kind of heaven.
The Night wears her beautiful cerulean dress,
decorated with diamonds we call stars.
They twinkle, they're a priceless sight,
covered often by clouds or pollution
seems like she is unhappy with us humans.
Nature, a vast beauty all around.
Despite being forgotten
it shows off it's beauty in a daily routine.
Do you care to notice?
Sunsets are priceless sights I see everyday. There is so much in life we forget to notice, but life goes on. When you feel low take a look around, you'll find a reason to live, to love!
Rushali Shome Mar 2016
As the laser rays from Science City lit up the night sky in a resplendent rush of colours, I watched on,  quietly , from the balcony; my mind racing back to the class 9 Basics of Economics book and to that class.

Utility. A major concept in economics.
I had understood it so well then.
I had paid full attention to the teacher when she had explained that once I had had a spoonful of Biriyani, a little bit of my hunger was satiated and I would enjoy the next spoonful a little bit less than the first.
That was how utility operated, marginal utility diminishing with every spoonful.
Today, as the rays light up the sky, I think of him, and of the principle of utility.
Does the principle apply to first love as well, as it does to the first taste of Biriyani?
As love's bittersweet concoction explodes, does it render the following loves as only marginally utilitarian then?
As the first rush, first blush fades, as love's faces change,  do we begin to get satiated a little less than the first time?
And is it really because we are already a bit full, a little satiated?  
Or is it because the hunger gnaws on, craving that first rush, once again?

— The End —