"tearless" poems
I sat all morning in the college sick bay
Counting bells knelling classes to a close.
At two o'clock our neighbors drove me home.
In the porch I met my father crying--
He had always taken funerals in his stride--
And Big Jim Evans saying it was a hard blow.
The baby cooed and laughed and rocked the pram
When I came in, and I was embarrassed
By old men standing up to shake my hand
And tell me they were "sorry for my trouble,"
Whispers informed strangers I was the eldest,
Away at school, as my mother held my hand
In hers and coughed out angry tearless sighs.
At ten o'clock the ambulance arrived
With the corpse, stanched and bandaged by the nurses.
Next morning I went up into the room. Snowdrops
And candles soothed the bedside; I saw him
For the first time in six weeks. Paler now,
Wearing a poppy bruise on his left temple,
He lay in the four foot box as in his cot.
No gaudy scars, the bumper knocked him clear.
A four foot box, a foot for every year.
12k
Even lions have the strongest hearts
But they still fall weak to lionesses,
A man’s heart can tighten in all parts
It only takes a ´touch´ to bring him to pieces
When a man falls weak to his world
A part of him has leaped over a wall
The tricky phase is to retrieve his part
Searching the world with an incomplete heart,
The finder of his heart is always his near-God
But finders only leave men in a melting ***
Men are known to be tearless
They don’t cry and in pain they remain fearless,
Men are fragile and sensitive
Listen to him and see the world in his perspective,
Men will live on ‘til the last survivor
Because men are forever…
May 31, 2015
May 31, 2015 at 12:40 AM UTC
I hate u
at least I think I do
memories of your flaws I say goodbye to
our relationship was a war, filled with love bombing, high walls, and gore
our relationship was a chore, never effortless always depressing when
I remember your rejection better than anything
when you dropped my hand, the way you shifted sands
around different people, I really believed you
but our love met the grim reaper
you kept yourself like a secret and I was a thrill-seeker
you were scared, I was fearless
I held you dear, you were tearless
so I hate u
at least I think I do
memories of your flaws I am haunted by
memories of all the times, I wished for, I deserved more
I outpoured just to no remorse
you were always ready to drop me to protect you
you were always ready to knock me to suggest you
were little Mr. Perfect and that this was worth it
but you weren't worth these hands, these tears, my heart
you weren't worth it from the ending, middle, or start
it is reflected in my art
that I hate u
Dec 5, 2021
Dec 5, 2021 at 11:27 AM UTC
The sound of nothing from tearless eyes,
The fear of breathing or living a lie.
A broken heart or a memory blurred,
All the words - unsaid or unheard.
The song of a forever-a pain in the ear,
The beauty of love -a bruise full of fear,
Silence of a nightmare or the drowsiness of a dream.
The plight of a dreamer, the indulgence in reality freed,
Find me in my words or lose me in a abyss of sorrow,
Seek me in the moonlit night, make me smile till morrow.
It came through the pain, filled in with light,
Threw a memory unforgotten to lose the fight.
Sinister and wicked – time’s plans unsure,
Vulnerability at stake, time can never cure.
Nov 24, 2012
Nov 24, 2012 at 10:59 AM UTC
In a dark time, the eye begins to see,
I meet my shadow in the deepening shade;
I hear my echo in the echoing wood--
A lord of nature weeping to a tree,
I live between the heron and the wren,
Beasts of the hill and serpents of the den.
What's madness but nobility of soul
At odds with circumstance? The day's on fire!
I know the purity of pure despair,
My shadow pinned against a sweating wall,
That place among the rocks--is it a cave,
Or winding path? The edge is what I have.
A steady storm of correspondences!
A night flowing with birds, a ragged moon,
And in broad day the midnight come again!
A man goes far to find out what he is--
Death of the self in a long, tearless night,
All natural shapes blazing unnatural light.
Dark,dark my light, and darker my desire.
My soul, like some heat-maddened summer fly,
Keeps buzzing at the sill. Which I is I?
A fallen man, I climb out of my fear.
The mind enters itself, and God the mind,
And one is One, free in the tearing wind.
2.7k
Tearless eyes so dry, tears didn't shed.
Throats so dry, every word unsaid.
Screams so silent, blood painted the world,
Blood which was lost, less than the part which hurled.
Aftermath so peaceful, ruin yet it was,
Echoing in the isolation, Ares' applause.
White wings in the sky had no worth,
'Mothers', they cry, 'To death, don't give birth.'
Nov 27, 2013
Nov 27, 2013 at 11:35 AM UTC
by Theodore Roethke
In a dark time, the eye begins to see,
I meet my shadow in the deepening shade;
I hear my echo in the echoing wood—
A lord of nature weeping to a tree.
I live between the heron and the wren,
Beasts of the hill and serpents of the den.
What’s madness but nobility of soul
At odds with circumstance? The day’s on fire!
I know the purity of pure despair,
My shadow pinned against a sweating wall.
That place among the rocks—is it a cave,
Or winding path? The edge is what I have.
A steady storm of correspondences!
A night flowing with birds, a ragged moon,
And in broad day the midnight come again!
A man goes far to find out what he is—
Death of the self in a long, tearless night,
All natural shapes blazing unnatural light.
Dark, dark my light, and darker my desire.
My soul, like some heat-maddened summer fly,
Keeps buzzing at the sill. Which I is I?
A fallen man, I climb out of my fear.
The mind enters itself, and God the mind,
And one is One, free in the tearing wind.
Feb 17, 2023
Feb 17, 2023 at 10:43 AM UTC
I know a girl who won't give up.
The strongest woman in the world.
She will smile
Without biting her tongue.
She will laugh
Without sadness on her lips.
She will soar
She will fly
In time---
Every single night.
She pains.
She pains.
She dies,
time
til
time
in every single
drawing breath.
Needlessly.
She cracks.
She wounds.
She breaks.
She scars.
Scarily.
Killing herself
Just to fall asleep...
Before she prays.
Makeup---
She pains.
She pains.
Yet she stands.
She tires.
She tries.
Makeup---
She smiles.
Fractured.
Yet still smiles.
Tearless.
Wearless.
Tireless.
But not painless.
Makeup---
She talks.
She pains.
She smiles.
Makeup---
She walks.
She pains.
She runs.
Makeup---
She's strong,
yet her strength
it needs refilling.
For she stands,
it aches,
yet still she has,
anaesthesia.
Makeup---
She succeeds.
Yet it pains,
walking away.
Makeu---
She goes home
Alone.
It hurts.
It hurts.
Yet she drives.
Make---
Cooks food.
Instant made.
It burns.
It burns.
Yet she eats.
Mak---
Brushes her teeth
Looks at a mirror
Seeing herself,
Smudges.
Blurs.
And yet she still
has the power
to close her eyes.
Ma---
And she lies on her bed.
With all the pain in the world.
She doesn't even
have to wash off
the makeup on her face,
she just cries it off...
M---
Before she prays.
Just to fall asleep...
Killing herself
Scarily.
She scars.
She breaks.
She wounds.
She cracks.
Needlessly.
Drawing breath
in every single
time
til
time
She dies
She pains.
She pains.
Every single night.
In time
She will fly.
She will soar.
Without sadness on her lips.
She will laugh
Without biting her tongue.
She will smile,
The strongest woman in the world.
I know a girl who won't give up.
Apr 24, 2018
Apr 24, 2018 at 5:01 AM UTC
If you disinfect it they will come,
awash with hope
and stung with bees and swollen and lush and false.
Fat as love we lie prone on the soil,
ready to be ****** by the universe, grand sun and all
elements so revered
And then, oh, it fails us
that universe and all its myths
its stories turn out to be tissue,
so many spindly webs and we
scatter surprised like August spiders hungry and full and
all we wanted to do was weave and wait
but the winds of fate are passing through
and it doesn't like the clinging
touch of our well constructed
reality
no matter how well it caught
our next bellyful
and our continuing survival.
Eventually we'll mourn, drunk and tearless
scabs dried up and scars set.
That's it.
Whatever it was
it wasn't for me.
You're for me,
your invisible clothes
are the most important thing
in this whole universe
and if they cling and if fate doesn't like them and if I agree
well we know what I can do with myself
and this god-awful poetry.
Aug 9, 2014
Aug 9, 2014 at 4:08 AM UTC
Longing eyes upon you cast
As a mirror does reflection find.
In the air of chambers behind
Lingers restless passions laid to rest.
Like a silent laugh or tearless cry
My life seems waste to my enemies.
Their wrath I did bide my time to appease
But hope-sight you gave me--ethereal eyes.
Through these common sight can never be
As a soul into new dimensions born.
At these seas I stand formless on the leas
No longer hiding but now riding the storm.
Your soul holds mine deeper into these seas--
Orpheus and his love reunited forever in
Glorious form.
Apr 18, 2017
Apr 18, 2017 at 1:50 PM UTC
As I sit here thinking of you,
My darling Cinta, my sweet puppy,
All I can think of is how it has all gone askew
Of how I’ve been such a dummy.
I spent day after day
Thinking of ways to let you know
But I couldn’t think of the words to say
I didn’t think of the emotions you would undergo.
I’m so sorry, ever so sorry
For how this has all turned out!
Don’t let in the worry
And I beg you not to pout!
My sweet, darling, Cinta,
To me you are a puppy
Coloring my heart magenta
Playful and funny.
To the rest of the world
You may just be another man, another guy
Having been hurled
Through life and into the sky.
But not to me, never to me
You mean the world to me!
So I send you this plea,
I don’t want you to be angry!
If I could turn back the clocks of time
And have another chance to do this over
I’d make it clear I still want you to be mine
So it wouldn’t turn for the worse in a blur.
I mean every word I write
As I beg your forgiveness
Through the day and the night
Sleepless and tearless.
I’ve cried myself dry
Thinking of your anger
As I try to nullify
Your ill temper.
I don’t want this to end
Not here, not now.
You’re more than just a friend
So to you I make this vow.
I don’t ever want to hurt you
Never again, not on purpose.
We’ll make it through
This ugly abyss!
Jan 15, 2015
Jan 15, 2015 at 12:41 AM UTC
To flow
Lost in the mind of unattachment~
Relation floats to the top,
Bubbling in iridescent mounds.
Blood spinning full body,
Taken ancient ritual
To lands unknown,
Abyss flies,
High collapse,
Forms dissolve to absorb.
Human knows, mankind blows its ashes
Into the sea
Where fish nibble surface gifts,
Crawl to form surface, lifts
Familiar exotica,
Erotica basks
In sunshine frays,
Grays may blend broken rays
Off the pleasure. Desire
Bubbles & brews to the top,
Furling into forms to which our touch is born,
Our travels sojourn,
Ever sifting, filtering the moon & the sun.
Feeling joy form & torn,
The reverb sung & proverb born,
Chug on, truck on
Traveling Celestial Mist.
The smoke sends its message to our ancestors,
Thanks & quests, may we rest &
Face our tests &
Jump off the highest crests &
Flow down through the darkest depths.
Fearless, shall we be, tearless, never be.
The taste & the smell, Earth’s story we shall tell & retell to our kin,
Our progeny rebel against the story of sin,
Announce the return to our dance, making sense of the din.
We may collapse the columns, but in deep truth
The cycles form regardless of ruth.
With that knowing smile,
A goddess wraps her finger
Round his golden locks,
Open, as always, they dangle and glisten,
If we would listen,
The fear would instantly disappear,
Jeers against the queer would shift into gear
To endear us to the weird &
We would cheer!
The dampness will burn,
The heartache will churn,
Our souls still yearn for
That moment when we lose it.
The bruised tips healing in the instant,
The shock waves reckon this is it
& the feedback expatiates past the limits.
We already have the wildness,
The bliss of expansiveness,
Still spinning in the Spiral Ever Endless.
10/28/12
Nov 3, 2012
Nov 3, 2012 at 3:19 AM UTC
*TEARS OF STONE
“I was discovering
the laws of misery,
the wounded, worn out heart,
and the sounds of the dead, tearless,
dry, like falling stones.”
~~from ”The Injustice” by Pablo Neruda
Stones have always been our tears
leaving deep ruts
carved into brown weathered skin.
Stones, filled with our blood
littered over many trails
splashing crimson,
staining the already ochre ground.
Similar it seems to the way light
sometimes becomes a green dancer
spreading out neath the forest undergrowth.
These tears,
stones of sorrow,
stain the earth with our children’s fears,
with our fallen lives,
with our endless
sewing, cooking, making bread,
planting corn, sowing and reaping
our dreams of despair
like black coal
gouged from the earth.
It has been such since
the first grains of sand
were washed ashore
carrying simple strands
of carbon life.
And so it will continue
till all are made into
tears of stone
leaving deep ruts
made crimson by our silence.
Aztec Warrior*
Jan 29, 2016
Jan 29, 2016 at 12:26 AM UTC
You don't seem to understand,
But you seem to hear.
You try to whisper something,
But the words aren't very clear.
Soon you will not talk at all.
They say that time is near.
That we've shared our final look,
Is my biggest fear.
I finally had to leave your room,
It hurt too much to stay.
I just can't sit there helpless,
Not knowing what to say.
Wondering if you even know,
That I am there anyway.
More use am I in the chapel,
At least there I can pray.
I can"t act strong anymore,
Be the only tearless eye,
So to comfort all the others,
Not allow myself to cry.
I've pent it up for many days,
Now I'm scared to even try.
But I think that it is my turn now,
My turn to say Goodbye.
Feb 22, 2011
Feb 22, 2011 at 4:40 PM UTC
You're never gonna bring me down.
My feet are already planted on the ground.
My heart is gone and now I'm fearless,
I'm tired of crying, my eyes are tearless.
I stand on my mountain, I am brave.
You shattered my life, still I forgave.
I'll never quit, I am strong.
I'll come out victorious of this battle long.
Oct 3, 2014
Oct 3, 2014 at 10:52 AM UTC
The girl with the tearless eyes,
The girl that cannot cry,
The girl thats always
"Good",
Always
"fine"
And you assume she is because
She's not crying
She's just smiling
So she's fine, right?
But she's putting on a face,
Putting on a mask,
Covering the truth,
Covering the past.
She'll cancel plans last minitue only to assure you she's fine just got caught up in some family ties.
But she's got trust issues deeper than the cuts she tries to hide.
More painful than the lies
And trying to pretend everythings fine.
And the names YOU called her?
Still echoeing in her brain,
Still imprinting,
Still remaining.
But she still tries to fake a smile,
Lay low for a little while,
Walk at a normal pace,
Keep it together!
The lie that you're living is bringing disgrace!
You are a disgrace, everything you are is built around it.
Till she can't even remember the lies from reality,
Did i smile?
Did i laugh?
Or am i still pretending?
She asks herself
As she laughs at the reflection in front of herself.
Will i ever be happy?
She asks head bowed down low in front of herself.
She's not okay,
She's always a lie.
Trying to fix her broken soul,
But the ghosts of the past still haunt her.
They torture her
*******
*******
*******
The life out of her
And the happiness
And the hope
It's like the dementors are coming out into the night.
And she's not fine
But she can't cry
For the tears that once flowed put like niagra falls,
Have dried up like the sahara desert.
And her head is still pounding
As she tries to get some sleep
Still stuck poundering on the everyday life she dreads
Still poundering
Searching
Searching
For her silver saviour,
Hoping to relief the pain she's been feeling in a river of red.
But she puts on a mask and fakes
a smile,
a laugh.
And you assume she's fine,
But she's soulessly screaming
Help me.
Help me.
Help
Mar 28, 2015
Mar 28, 2015 at 11:25 PM UTC
I never really let myself look back at it,
you know, since I transformed into this person,
since my heart relearned its beat,
and my eyes regained their sight,
and my mouth relearned a speech that could stand up for
the brain that's had to muster every ounce of confusion,
every spec of pain,
every seed of anger,
and release it until the look in my tearless and fearless eyes
gained light again.
I never wanted to lose you.
I just had to if I wanted to come back from the dead,
from the grave I made in my hollow bed,
formed with baby green sheets and a pillow for my headstone.
That was your choice.
I just walked away from a world that would never care.
Sometimes... I just really hate when you're the inspiration behind
the fingertips clicking on the keyboard,
when you're the reason why I let myself bleed into a poem,
when you're the motive in a desperate attempt for me to have something for myself.
And then I remember... that's how I escape the way I'd wrap
around your conniving little finger until it turned to blade.
I always find it interesting to see how fleeting my existence can be.
It's like a game, isn't it?
The drunken texts, the awkwardly un-awkward hugs, the hellos and goodbyes
that turn into absolutely nothing.
It's funny how I'm the one who can be normal.
And honest.
The hardest thing I've ever had to do is accept that you aren't you,
that almost everything you do is a charade,
you parade about wanting pity and remorse,
you love the sadness as much as you hate it,
you hate the deception as much as you crave it,
and I simply cannot do that.
Maybe I haven't fully accepted it yet.
I wonder when I'll be invisible again.
Dec 7, 2013
Dec 7, 2013 at 1:17 AM UTC
Dear Mercy Girl,
I know the nights when the tears come in silent screams
But the screaming music should block out everything
I am the pins and needles in your fingertips, held captive underneath your thighs
As they itch to grasp the cold metal
That cuts hot
Opening your skin like a present on a random day
That isn’t your birthday
But that doesn’t faze you
Because you’ll collect smiles where you can find them
I know the fireworks in your chest
The tearing of muscle and tissue but I promise your heart is okay
I am the knot that forms in your throat
You swallow me but I’ll just grow in the pit of your stomach…
Let yourself write tearless words of someday, one day inspiration,
Vindication that you feel
I know the emptiness,
The emotionless façade
Broken by the deafening muteness of your cries for help
You’re helpless,
Hopeless, but hoping
For anything
Except the numbness that envelops you.
And I know the numbness
That keeps you cold as you open yourself
Hot
Blue burns red,
But didn’t you know feeling isn’t your friend?
I am the stairs screaming in protest under the sudden weight of your mother coming to check on you
Because you are loved.
Hide your knife, the only weapon you need tonight is that smile
Promising you love her too.
I know the nights when the sound of your own breathing is too much noise
So I become your heartbeat
Feel me remind you that you’re still alive.
Because I feel everything.
And I feel you.
So when you need to talk about nothingness, let me be there.
You don’t need to wrap yourself in long sleeves and your scarred arms,
Share with me your troubles.
You’re too young and alive to be dying alone.
-A friend.
Jan 21, 2013
Jan 21, 2013 at 1:36 PM UTC
I went to a funeral and lied
I went to a funeral and lied
In junk and drink, no grief,
Just cowardice and pride.
Fear of losing you by my side
Losing you to the other side.
Fear that shook with the gloved murderer's hide
I went to my funeral and shied
I didn't want to sleep or hide
I just held your bloodless, jaundiced face
I couldn't help but feel a fake
As two sets of opache eyes
Did not pass a tear and cry.
Just the shivering hands that stopped your last sighs
I went to a funeral and lied
I drank and stood in black and could not cry,
I strung words and made some ineloquent speech
Loved and held but held love out of reach
Spoke in riddles, played hide and seek
With a congregation of perjured freaks.
I laughed at their blindness where my guilt sits.
Last night in our death bed where I slept
Dry-eyed like your cataract eyes
Dumb mouth fish gape
In the old flat, my eyes, dry, dry eyes.
I didn't hear the trains last night
I couldn't hear grief's knock at all
There was no knock,
There was no wake or ball, just
Your bloodless gape and jaundice face
Shining yellow plumbed and spent
****** leech-mouthed, dumb,
Your cataract eyes,
Under clumsy-ashed mascara lids
A shy pass in some gothic flick
A tetany spasm, no shock or awe.
You looked up at me and saw nothing at all.
I share some dead shark surprise;
Opache, tearless rolled-up eyes
And I lay gibbering at your side
And laughed and hated your passion and cries
King over requiem and bride
Healer, dealer, hood and pride
Addicting storm and flushed aside.
I scraped blood off your chessboard marble floors
Wiped the evidence from cold-polished claws
I burned effigies of pagan-hates
Hoodwinked the sentimental double agent spooks
And threw scent off my mistress as a ******* clown.
This morning I went to a funeral and lied
I could not spill one tear from these witness eyes
That watched the hands suffocate your traumatic sighs
I went to a funeral and lied
Conducted proceedings with the murdering hands’ whys
I wanted the last of you, my bride.
Mar 11, 2014
Mar 11, 2014 at 6:17 AM UTC
The face of evil came to town
But his face wasn't evil at all
He smiled kindly, kissed both cheeks
And charmed you with his call
They say that the devil is beautiful
He was once an angel too
Now that I've seen the face of evil
I believe this statement is true
He speaks of many tearless nights
Since the day that he was born
I ask how could his parents
Just leave him ripped and torn?
I listened through the wall one eve
And heard him whisper low
*"I'm filled with sorrow and despair
Though not a soul should know"*
I never said a single word
Of what I heard that night
He showed to us his dimpled face
As he left by morning light
To this day I hear his voice
So sad and barely there
He's just a sad and broken creature
And only I seem to care
Mar 12, 2013
Mar 12, 2013 at 8:30 PM UTC
Atop her night ‘fore one more broken altar,
The oddity in #309, a special sort of
Pale beholden raccoon junkie’d lids,
Was showering mascara’d mayhem
And naked come two windows down.
Shivered and if only by candlelight –
Just her, from cold to ever’d numb,
Her dog, (a lab and, “Sam,” I think),
Endeavor and smoldering wick
Amidst burnt flesh, timid
Added scent wrought a
Stainless steel’s earlier promise.
Alone, and the winds carried
Whimpers, tearless atop
A mixture – sweat, fear, relief,
And, “you’d once loved me.” She
Looks up, under starless and towards
Two wandering eyes, my own.
So much so, that even my
Beer-tainted tongue could taste,
“It,” – *** cash, and solemn lies;
She knew, I’d taste, I’d waste, come
Her sojourn aimed desperate and pallet.
But I refuse, when she called,
She begged and she gently lullabied,
“Ravage,” as the nails trace spiders,
Seeping, “junk,” and down her leg,
“Come be with me.” Please?
But – the, “Wiser?” I closed my eyes.
The, “Weaker,” took my last swig,
And alone, shuttered my window;
So having dodged her bullet,
I remove my clothes, my ***** socks,
And imagined one wrist’s warmth
Atop her night ‘fore one more broken altar.
Jun 27, 2015
Jun 27, 2015 at 9:42 AM UTC
Raspings of the street’s lament.
Secretive,
commonplace,
hauntings.
Veiling the paths of floral regimes;
Assaulting itself upon a concrete temple.
Brief wisps of permanence
Floating past perception.
Coming to rest on ****** blossoms collected.
At the bottom of meadow-less time.
Naturalist bindings no longer
Only within hollow ties of
the wide- eyed, weaponized child.
Tearless wails for mystical voices.
Refracting
Piourettes of venus,
Dancing, upon a water- colour creator.
Gazing at home from the top of a sunbeam,
Failing to find mercy in a melting world.
Jun 15, 2012
Jun 15, 2012 at 1:42 AM UTC
I knew Pearl, comely, calm Pearl
eyes as blue as the skies
that warmed her sands
where we walked and talked
dreamed the days away
her voice so sweet on the Pacific winds
it made me forget about home
I was breaking daily bread
dipping it in the
yellow yolk promise of eggs
when little gunner Joe
said come down below
to see the kitty he found
crouched in the shadowed corner
no bigger than the rivets
get her some milk he said
when we placed the offering in front of her
she roared a lion’s roar…
and the roar kept coming
and the young living
thing
disappeared into the darkness...
the stench of smoke
the screeching screams
the fierce rocking of the hull
and blackness
which came too fast to touch
all spoke with equal madness
telling us doom
can come on a sunny Sunday morn
in Pearl’s land
falling,
is something we all know
in the flat land of dreams
in the lucky light of day, and
on that Sunday morn,
in the boiling bowels of our ship
slowly,
with some giant hand in command
the water, the water,
the water we all had grown to love
now taunting our feet,
then our knees
the pounding began
the eternal pounding
the pounding of the hopeful
in Pearl’s blue skies
and our pounding,
the pounding of the ******
without any eyes
the water
now at our waists
now at our chests
and then only our frozen faces
against the hard steel that had been our home
had the last few breaths of air to breathe
heard the last few gasps of desperation
and the feeble futile pounding
of those in Pearl’s darkened sun…
now we rest in this sunken tomb
the guests roaming above
with cameras and tearless eyes
for they were not
the ones who heard our cries
those who did, do not return
for Pearl is no longer a sunny beach
and a stroll in a dream
but a place where the pounding started
and never stopped
and where the world changed forever
when the first bomb was dropped
Dec 6, 2012
Dec 6, 2012 at 9:55 PM UTC
*
Hand over to me, your tender desires;
lips dried; eyes tearless; cheeks pale;
Touching your soul, within an emotion;
I become a blue ocean of my own lust!
Quench for the flames of fire in blood;
Legs tired; hands tied; mouth moaning;
falling to confined alluring charms;
I become a rainbow of my own love !
Kiss away the body, in deep obsession;
As if I can drink your lovable drops of nectar;
while smelling, tasting in a delicious sweet;
I became a silvery cloud of my own passion.
*
BY
WILLIAMSJI MAVELI
[email protected]
www.williamsji.com
www.shanthinagar.com
May 8, 2013
May 8, 2013 at 9:35 AM UTC
If any vague desire should rise,
That holy Death ere Arthur died
Had moved me kindly from his side,
And dropt the dust on tearless eyes;
Then fancy shapes, as fancy can,
The grief my loss in him had wrought,
A grief as deep as life or thought,
But stay'd in peace with God and man.
I make a picture in the brain;
I hear the sentence that he speaks;
He bears the burthen of the weeks
But turns his burthen into gain.
His credit thus shall set me free;
And, influence-rich to soothe and save,
Unused example from the grave
Reach out dead hands to comfort me.
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