Quotes about heave, page 6
Untitled 9
something is heavy
i cannot lift it myself
on such a tense
situation as this
when everything seems
to be pointing at you
with all disfavor
your sigh
heave it yourself.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I Saw Father Cry Over Mother's Photograph
i saw my father
cry over mother's photograph
on evenings
after our family dinner
i pity him dearly
then he followed mother
earlier than later
i simply
heave my slightest sighs
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Study of Barbara
In the easy heave
and lazy reclination
of their cashmere lake,
Barbara's buoy. Yet
despite the talc
daubed on at dawn,
beneath both eyes by noon
the scar of night
burns Barbara through.
poem by Donal Mahoney
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Just a Passed Phase
It was not easy getting
To this stage in life
When I think of my past
Days in life
I want to break and cry
I only heave a sigh
Its only a passed phase
I never let go of my faith
And my faith saw me to this stage.
poem by Efe Benjamin
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Alankar(Decor) -44
Honeymoon(Pleiades)
Happy days they spend some
Honey doused days with love
Her hopes heave high his words
His dreams soar high with her
Hopes and dreams wish for kids
Highlighted moon in rounds
Hosts grand the couple new
poem by Indira Renganathan
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East River
Dour river
Jaded with monotony of lights
Diving off mast heads….
Lights mad with creating in a river… turning its sullen back…
Heave up, river…
Vomit back into the darkness your spawn of light….
The night will gut what you give her.
poem by Lola Ridge
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Oral
Don't Stop
Don't Stop
Don't Stop
I gasp at him
(Silently)
He doesn't
Stop, doesn't
Stop, doesn't
Stop.
Though he
Hasn't
Heard me.
He doesn't
Know when
To stop…
The pleasure
Is mutual,
The pleasure
[...] Read more
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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Hushing Hushing
the usual land
escape of pyramid roof
touching the sky
heave
in space and sip
in lights of stars
i am
happier and enjoying
things that
are far
away from me
you
wonder how this is possible
on empty arms
on hearts without
head
ing my way out the en
closures
of too much love that is kill
ing me
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Ash Heap
skin settled
arms of dust
lifeless lumps
heave your chest
sneeze life into a mug
and the droplets osmose
identity into the urn
lumpy dust into the cup
and later onto the ash heap
patiently await
incineration,
polish silver
wake ornaments
with rotting fingers
alive only in their dying
poem by Sean Godley
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Sleeping Buddha
Happening?
you heave a sigh.
In peril, mother of peace?
Real threat
to ice lingam? the Creator?
Falling apart?
Cat’s claw was not healing.
Where the greens will go?
The pods, the seeds?
Tara, Tara!
come again,
we are waiting on the hills.
Glaciers were shrinking-
rivers are sad
and trees are weeping.
poem by Satish Verma
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