Quotes about nether, page 7
Texas Cowboy
From garden-beds I tend, it is not far
To those great ranges where he used to ride;
Time’s shadowy Door still stands a rift ajar,
And Fancy, glancing backward and aside,
May glimpse him whirling in a storm, of dust,
A flashing bronze against a burning sky,
Before a sea of tossing horns up-thrust,
A peril thousand-pronged, to breast or die;
Or lying with locked hands beneath his head,
Watching the stars beside a lonely fire,
About him dim immensity outspread
Within, dim gulfs of question and desire.
He is a Thought; he is not flesh-and-bone;
He is immortal Youth astride a Dream:
The hungry flame that eats to ash and stone
The gorgeous fruitage of the things that seem;
And I (who sand, with pang and toil enough,
My roots at last down to the nether springs,
Yet, born to coax the shapely from the rough,
Have shunned the red and jagged edge of things),
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poem by Karle Wilson Baker
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Going By Car
I never travel without an exploration
But going by car
is to examine the fine landscape
only though gloves or spyglass
It is to be eager at the passages of a great book
whose leaves are barely glimpsed
before turned by a mechanical arm
I must fight the touring disease
that the next bend has more than this one
Hurtling does not cure hurrying
I slow or pull off and step out
like a fat man reaching for wildflowers
his rising belly reaches first
like on a desperate liberty
pierced by a mother’s shriek
The manly, strange, motionless, exhausting earth
whelming all sides
fades, smiles, recedes
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poem by Edward Wright Haile
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Bible Stories: Job (Chapter XXVI)
Job Spoke Again And Said:
How do you help the weak from harm?
How do you strengthen weak an arm?
How counsel you as if unwise?
How profusely do you advice?
In terror writhe the shades beneath,
And so do people and waters;
His thunder-like rebuke stuns them;
In ways untold, all He batters.
Stark-naked lies the nether world;
Uncovered stays Abaddon old;
The north is stretched in empty space;
The earth hangs without any base!
He binds the waters within clouds,
And yet, their weight can’t rent their shrouds;
He spreads the clouds to veil the moon
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poem by John Celes
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Hey, dad.
Hey dad, thanks for showing me you don’t really care.
And thanks for saying you won’t always be there.
And hey dad, thanks for showing me what I’m really worth
And always making me feel like dirt
Hey dad, thanks for being fair,
And telling me nether you or the world care
Hey dad thanks for telling me I’m worth shi t,
At the same time everyone else did
Hey dad, thanks for hearing me cry,
And never even caring why
Hey dad, thanks for seeing I hurt,
And still decide to treat me like dirt
Hey dad thank you for being hard,
And always playing the “bad seed” card.
Hey dad, thanks for the good work ethic.
And telling me everyone else can f it.
Also, telling me no boy wont like me more.
For what’s on the outside, for being a whore.
Hey dad, thanks for showing me work
Is more important then the children your wife birthed
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poem by Bailey Burris
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The Lonely Doll
Verse 1:
In the listless sounds of deviant insurrection
Tell to me ("What do you see? ")
In the back corridors of your mind you remain broken
Just like a soulless doll
Come to me in the nether regions
Tell of your whimsical mistake
What you fear becomes your salvation
This time there's no escape
Chorus:
For when you deny what you are
You create a void inside, where your thoughts have been misplaced
What you seek to destroy will consume you
Then your suffering will be put on display
Verse 2:
Save me from myself and I
Will no longer keep you denied
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poem by Kristen Brown
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New Blade
I am the wild horseman
watching; over crest of hill.
Surveying all land beneath;
before me. Coveted treasures
lie locked laid fallow fasting
in rich; green ripe pastures.
By hand of iron strength;
heart mind of forged steel;
will trinkets be plunder taken.
Hand shall surge wield;
new blade. So sharp...
refined enduring wonder.
Raise sate. Mightiest sword ever
forged among furnaces.
Typifying civilized. Educated men.
A new battle looms lies before.
Insurgent raid conflict renewed...
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poem by Terence George Craddock
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Soul's Rebellion (Part Two)
you shake me...
'you ok? ,
you must have been dreaming...'
am i dreaming,
or have i always been,
just a shadow, a form,
walking through heated dreams?
too long bound by guilt,
mine, yours, anybody's,
and everybody's....
what am i afraid of?
the image in the mirror,
unarmed and toothless!
even the thief has a god,
the murderer salvation.
the redemption of a poet...
to die and dissolve.
marching, marching,
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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Sad Wings Of Destiny
Mournful, yet grand is the destiny of man. Believing he can look destiny in the eye, without so much as flinching. And only after having swallowed the seeds of fate, did he find, they grew into hate. Making what was once water to the faithful, turn to nothing more, than blood, before the eyes of an unbeliever. Of all that man has been, or in his vanity, may come to believe, destiny, after having granted his wishes, also gave him more than he perceived. For only by the work of his own two hands, could such suffering be achieved. Leading him to fight against his destiny, even though, he had no hope of victory. Like pantomimes of white, on a background of black, his destiny, appears as a silken thread, lost in an endless labyrinth of time. Never knowing, only death transforms life into a destiny, for only death has no need for time. Having denied love, he sealed his fate. Unable to find the meaning and never seeing the truth of life, that it may only be found with another, but not alone. Fear, merely encouraged his ignominy and transported him to the nether world, where he will at last, take his final flight, on the sad wings of destiny
poem by Eric Paeplow
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The Execution of Romeo
They came in the depths of sleep
Dream eaters to plague my darkness
Troll whisperers taunting my love
Their poison running through my veins
My soul in chains and on trial
I plead to the jury for love
I plead again only silence
The voice of love, lost in a sinners scream
In the balcony weeping angels,
Rain teardrops of salt onto my bleeding arms
In this dark nether world
I see the cold light of a distant star
The last refuge of my dying soul
My only comfort in this realm of fear
Phantoms sit at my table to deliberate
While dining on lonely hearts,
And drinking promises made in the heat of passion
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poem by Steven Cooke
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Basking In Your Glory
Memories beautiful haunt my every appetite I quiver
Yet so misty colored to the tracks of ones own tears
Shallow pictures painted on fainted walls of melancholy days of raptures sweet
Essence yet so bitter taste of fulfillment yet obtained once on distant shores I crave
Lonelier days spent nights clutching my pillow tight yearning for the heat that ignites passion's flair
Thoughts dancing in shadowy places dwelling on such curves you possess
Dreaming of moments together forever I cannot slumber
Like dandelions floating on air in the breeze sets my mind at ease
Yearning, craving, wanting your touch that chills to the depth of my soul
I cry out in desperation for tenderly I sway to the music that wont satisfies my desires
Only for that one moment savored carries me away to paradise longing
Expressive verses causes membranes to thirst with utter indulgences
Absence of barriers no longer define where you begin and I end
Melting into oneness the flames engulfs as penetration of sovereign canyons calling
Sweat runs down nether rejoins comforted by tongues entwined
Buildup aspirations released in an eruption while toes curled violently
To lay down finally achieved at rest while in your arms peace sought now found at last
Precious heaven for that one instant consumed basking in your glory I pray
poem by Wilfred Mellers
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