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Passions in Poetry

Starry Starry Night

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Huan Yi
Member Ascendant
since 10-12-2004
Posts 6334
Waukegan


0 posted 07-22-2005 12:57 PM       View Profile for Huan Yi   Email Huan Yi   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems   Click to Submit your Poem to Passions  View IP for Huan Yi


Her eyes
Were like dishwater
After supper

Her marbled skin
Burned by the sun
And as pocked as the surface of the moon

The words
She said would kill a bird
If heard while flying overhead

Her heart
A pit as black as coal
Her soul
For sure was forged in Hell

You take
What you can get
He sighed
As he fell in behind
All the time
Wishing he was dead
© Copyright 2005 John Pawlik - All Rights Reserved
SEA
Deputy Moderator 10 ToursDeputy Moderator 5 Tours
Moderator
Member Seraphic
since 01-18-2000
Posts 24152
with you


1 posted 07-22-2005 05:11 PM       View Profile for SEA   Email SEA   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for SEA

wow, sounds like a wicked woman for sure...
Midnitesun
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Member Empyrean
since 05-18-2001
Posts 29020
Gaia


2 posted 07-22-2005 05:57 PM       View Profile for Midnitesun   Email Midnitesun   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for Midnitesun

well, not the starry night scene I dream of

LOL, I always see swirls of blue and yellow, twinkling stars over bending cypress trees,
or crows over cornfields

Gentle Spirit
Member Laureate
since 10-09-2000
Posts 14329


3 posted 07-22-2005 08:08 PM       View Profile for Gentle Spirit   Email Gentle Spirit   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for Gentle Spirit

not the starry night I expected, but very well written Huan.
Huan Yi
Member Ascendant
since 10-12-2004
Posts 6334
Waukegan


4 posted 07-22-2005 08:19 PM       View Profile for Huan Yi   Email Huan Yi   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for Huan Yi


Jus' Funnin'

For the Heck of it I thought there should be
something for those who do not get
to court gifts of God
much less sleep with angels.

Remember:

My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips' red:
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damask'd, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak,--yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound;
I grant I never saw a goddess go,
My mistress when she walks, treads on the ground;
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare.

Shakespeare
Ceinwyn
Member Elite
since 07-09-2000
Posts 2238
Baltimore, MD


5 posted 07-23-2005 12:09 AM       View Profile for Ceinwyn   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for Ceinwyn


I loved every word, beautiful

If at first you don't succeed destroy all the evidence that you tried.

Drauntz
Member Elite
since 03-16-2007
Posts 2907
Los Angeles California


6 posted 04-27-2007 12:32 PM       View Profile for Drauntz   Email Drauntz   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for Drauntz

why "he"

a beautiful poem.
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