Your Favorite Poems

[Soon]

Beneath My Hands

Beneath my hands
your small breasts
are the upturned bellies
of breathing fallen sparrows.
Wherever you move
I hear the sounds of closing wings
of falling wings.
I am speechless
because you have fallen beside me
because your eyelashes
are the spines of tiny fragile animals.
I dread the time
when your mouth
begins to call me hunter.
When you call me close
to tell me
your body is not beautiful
I want to summon
the eyes and hidden mouths
of stone and light and water
to testify against you.
I want them
to surrender before you
the trembling rhyme of your face
from their deep caskets.
When you call me close
to tell me
your body is not beautiful
I want my body and my hands
to be pools
for your looking and laughing.

--Leonard Cohen

[Kobi]

An Invisible Connection


What is this magical bond we share?
Amidst the constant circus like avalanche of words,
How did you know?
Once like you stable and secure,
He is older, yet betrothed to your dream,
Faithful to uncertainty,
A spirit yearning to be free.
His subtle words lodge in your thought.
Why did you pick this stranger
With a hunger that you can not see?

A young woman's hair kisses the breeze,
Her dignity conceals the distance in her gaze.
Is it possible that a simple innocent radiant smile,
Or a crazy serendipitous verse,
Could bring two people so diverse
To where we find ourselves today?
Strangers once to our own lives,
At ease with the depth of our own emptiness,
How unlikely it is that we are here

It's quiet tonight, light raindrops filter through the leaves
Washing away the dust, releasing fragrances
On which the gentle breeze sweetens
The kind of night you wish you were with the one you love
Nestled close to the open fire
Watching the moon duck in and out of the white cotton clouds
Caressing and holding each other gently
Breath silently quivering collect;

Once locked away behind iron clad doors,
Feelings and emotions stir,
Disguised by layers of pain and ruin
Two hearts awaken.
A gentle, loving, knowing kiss;
Bound together forever.

Jeff Demos

[femmeInterrupted]

Sick by Shel Silverstein


Sick "I cannot go to school today,"
Said little Peggy Ann McKay.
"I have the measles and the mumps,
A gash, a rash and purple bumps.
My mouth is wet, my throat is dry,
I'm going blind in my right eye.
My tonsils are as big as rocks,
I've counted sixteen chicken pox
And there's one more - that's seventeen,
And don't you think my face looks green?
My leg is cut, my eyes are blue -
It might be instamatic flu.
I cough and sneeze and gasp and choke,
I'm sure that my left leg is broke -
My hip hurts when I move my chin,
My belly button's caving in,
My back is wrenched, my ankle's sprained,
My 'pendix pains each time it rains.
My nose is cold, my toes are numb,
I have a sliver in my thumb.
My neck is stiff, my spine is weak,
I hardly whisper when I speak.
My tongue is filling up my mouth,
I think my hair is falling out.
My elbow's bent, my spine ain't straight,
My temperature is one-o-eight.
My brain is shrunk, I cannot hear,
There is a hole inside my ear.
I have a hangnail, and my heart is -
what? What's that? What's that you say?
You say today is ... Saturday?
G'bye, I'm going out to play!"

[Kätzchen]

Beneath My Hands

Beneath my hands
your small breasts
are the upturned bellies
of breathing fallen sparrows.
Wherever you move
I hear the sounds of closing wings
of falling wings.
I am speechless
because you have fallen beside me
because your eyelashes
are the spines of tiny fragile animals.
I dread the time
when your mouth
begins to call me hunter.
When you call me close
to tell me
your body is not beautiful
I want to summon
the eyes and hidden mouths
of stone and light and water
to testify against you.
I want them
to surrender before you
the trembling rhyme of your face
from their deep caskets.
When you call me close
to tell me
your body is not beautiful
I want my body and my hands
to be pools
for your looking and laughing.

--Leonard Cohen

[kittygrrl]

Originally Posted by Kätzchen

Beneath My Hands

Beneath my hands
your small breasts
are the upturned bellies
of breathing fallen sparrows.
Wherever you move
I hear the sounds of closing wings
of falling wings.
I am speechless
because you have fallen beside me
because your eyelashes
are the spines of tiny fragile animals.
I dread the time
when your mouth
begins to call me hunter.
When you call me close
to tell me
your body is not beautiful
I want to summon
the eyes and hidden mouths
of stone and light and water
to testify against you.
I want them
to surrender before you
the trembling rhyme of your face
from their deep caskets.
When you call me close
to tell me
your body is not beautiful
I want my body and my hands
to be pools
for your looking and laughing.

--Leonard Cohen

Kat ..Beautiful