Caterwaul
How can I explain to you
What you did to me with words
Words just like the ones you used
They mean nothing at all
Buy they caterwaul, caterwaul, caterwaul
Through my lonely hall
Selfish and so conceited
By the way you destroy me
Words just like ones you used
They mean nothing at all to you
But they caterwaul, caterwaul, caterwaul
Through my lonely hall
Caterwaul
Caterwaul
Caterwaul
song performed by by Ryan Adams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
The Row
`
There is maybe
in each burst of
energy, a product
of fanaticism filling
the air or the cities
when the limbs
of trees hail the
soldiers to the war.
Perhaps in each
bellow the burst
of energy produces
fanatic followers.
Perhaps in each
gust the rush of
wind uproots all
modicum of calm.
Perhaps in each
caterwaul the limbs
of protest raises
interjective receipt.
Each is a product
maybe without
hope of reprieve:
alone in time; Perhaps.
`
poem by Frederick Kesner
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Ba Boom
I Hear The Trumpet Out,
See The Klaxon Jet Screech By,
Outcry's From Family's And My Own,
Whistle Buzzer Alarm,
Wolf Howls At The Moon,
Horn Blows Phone Rings,
Cannon Cacophony Explosion,
Doorbell Sounds Like Static,
Caterwaul Was A Name Of A Hero,
Siren Of Thunder, Noise Racket Rattle,
I Hear Screams And Roars,
The Wind Blows The Chime,
Ballyhoo Drums In The Distance,
Jet Crash Sonic Boom,
Bedlam The World Splits,
Like The World Ba Boom,
Bark Off A Tree Blast Off,
Fanfare Of The Government To Late,
For The Time Of God Is Near,
Just Be Pack Up-Prayed,
And Ready.
poem by Tommy Laster
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Smokey Hued
My doors smoky open
ethereal;
right and left corridor
compartmented.
I see patterns
and rooms
to the right and left.
Here my Room of Tears,
weeping walls that caterwaul.
All my sorrows hang here
and Deep Regrets lie on the floor.
All My Loves
are in this room
in hues rosette
most past;
their glow
shimmers
even outside
in the corridor.
My eyes lid as I pass
my rooms of Cardinal Sins;
faces there
I'd wronged or mislead,
I was relieved to see Repentments Rooms next
where Atonements array the walls
and below on tables are
Just Due Parchments properly signed
for deliverance to Justice Hall.
I did make some things right there.
Upstairs are my Best Regards
in alcoves 'round my Heart
very soft
healing arts applied with care there.
I'm now down to Secret Sins,
its door ajar with Gambolments,
Inexcusables-Mindless Hurts-
all Unspeakables.
Oh, each time I make this trip
my energy's spent;
and I vow
next time
to make of it
a more pleasant trip
through this
my Soul's House.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Causatum Of A War
From the insipid air
Slings a caterwaul
A gauche cry of war
Oozing with chutzpa
Slathering the fears
Of losing a war, thus,
Losing everything;
The drive to describe
What everything means
The snow was dishabille
From the vivid sun light
But it nevertheless purges
The sanguine to froze
Pristinely, grotesquely
As the scene reflects
Where everything moves
Slowly but incautiously
This is my dying day
My hands are stung
By a riving shrill
My chest is cleaved
Deep into the scant
Shape of my back
And these sensations
Are hard to believe
When my eyes are basked
In your lovely smile
A snow fell into your
Unabashed eyelashes
And it resembles your
Elusive crystal tears
But your grin is not lying
Floating in a consummate
State of ecstasy
The blade flickered
And the numbness dissipated
Your lips fell flat
In a taut hollow line
As you caught me in askance
Watching you from beside
There's a sea in my eyes
And a red cesspool
Gathering at my feet
I fell in the ground
Capped with stark petals
I thought of making a snow angel
But the my hands are fastened
In the hilt, with the agonies
Unspoken
poem by Norman Santos
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Bipolar Monday
It's ineptly Monday
And I had a swell night
Last Saturday
That adroitly stretched
Till the dawn of Sunday
With the jocund boys
Of the maladroit taverns
Though I've ruined
And maimed the effervescence
Of the last ticking hours
When I left the guffawing
For I can no longer
Hold my breathing
And the resilient wry
Wrinkled in a caterwaul
Of silence;
Bronchus' collapsing,
Ribs shrilling,
Eyes riddling
Honesty
And it felt worse
To drag a comrade
Into the dark sanguinary
Enigma of this warfare
When he had only
Claimed his deliverance
From his pathos
But it was the only
Light in this tunnel
And this light squirms
When I reveal my wounds
And he was, after all,
A comrade.
And it's only Monday
But the maelstrom of silence
And the latticing breaches
Sends obnoxious thoughts
To pace with me
In this sedentary road
And I shatter
Just to tell
Or to think of
What it is
It is the thing
Beneath the graves.
It is the thing beneath
All of our years
But it is
Here,
Malingering,
Crooning
In my ears
With the sound
Of knives lunging
In the flesh
Past the sternum,
Or the tacit gears
Of a smoldering whispering
To kiss my temples,
Or cars crashing
Into a body
Of lifeless
Tragedies.
poem by Norman Santos
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Fire-Pit
How soon those eyes of yours
stretch across
to grab me by the soul
and squeeze
til heart drops drip
drip drip
and my knees
clank away
shaking.
Each time I say
I will not
let
these feelings sway.
My common sense
turns away
abandoning me;
my helpless self,
my angry self
my begrudging self
all line up inside me
and caterwaul;
leaving me exposed
to fiery rising Excitements Touch
poising above my soul straining
against Respondment's call
but l am losing the will-
my soul fluid
dripping away.
.
Where is the key you have
which unlocks my door?
Where is the silent heart-switch
which clicks
turning on my heart?
Where is that definition of love
that here fits?
This is a core mystery
I share with you
even when I don't want to:
even when I want to hide or run.
When my tent flap is closed
it opens
by my own hand,
against my will
and I am always surprised
wondering what part of my brain
worked that hand
despite the other No part of my brain.
saying No,
don't reach
don't go
but I do;
streaming
in my wake
abandoned regrets
and doubt;
as our silhouettes merge
in this holiday tent;
I hear
a night owl
go Hoot.
Hoot.
Amy's in the fire-pit;
soul aflame
memory gone.
Heart recklessly spent
on another night
with you
in the warm summer fire-pit
souls joined.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Daily Trials by a Sensitive Man
Oh, there are times
When all this fret and tumult that we hear
Do seem more stale than to the sexton's ear
His own dull chimes.
Ding dong! ding dong!
The world is in a simmer like a sea
Over a pent volcano, -- woe is me
All the day long!
From crib to shroud!
Nurse o'er our cradles screameth lullaby,
And friends in boots tramp round us as we die,
Snuffling aloud.
At morning's call
The small-voiced pug-dog welcomes in the sun,
And flea-bit mongrels, wakening one by one,
Give answer all.
When evening dim
Draws round us, then the lonely caterwaul,
Tart solo, sour duet, and general squall, --
These are our hymn.
Women, with tongues
Like polar needles, ever on the jar;
Men, plugless word-spouts, whose deep fountains are
Within their lungs.
Children, with drums
Strapped round them by the fond paternal ass;
Peripatetics with a blade of grass
Between their thumbs.
Vagrants, whose arts
Have caged some devil in their mad machine,
Which grinding, squeaks, with husky groans between,
Come out by starts.
Cockneys that kill
Thin horses of a Sunday, -- men, with clams,
Hoarse as young bisons roaring for their dams
From hill to hill.
Soldiers, with guns,
Making a nuisance of the blessed air,
Child-crying bellman, children in despair,
Screeching for buns.
Storms, thunders, waves!
Howl, crash, and bellow till ye get your fill;
Ye sometimes rest; men never can be still
But in their graves.
poem by Oliver Wendell Holmes
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Wafer
The Present: a nano-thin wafer wall
on which we wanderers waiver, stall
for time - waifs small on ant-heap tall -
soon turned to ashes spurned, shred shawl
on which we pile from fast Past’s dust,
rich dream state which maintains its thrall
to spell Man’s time-plan wherewithal -
framework contextual all-in-all.
This transient recorded scrawl
upon the wall of fate thus must
seem progam which can disinstall
itself when system crashes - fall
whose ripples often waterfall
from chaos and beginnings small -
an ore shawl for next cycle’s rust –
from an apparent free-for-all,
create conditions for long haul,
new ball-game to begin it all
again and open options call.
There is no suit, no overcall,
no certitudes test stand, no trawl
to net immortal treasure haul
reducing time's hands to a crawl,
no trumps to draw nor hand to bust,
no eth[n]ic insight to recall
Fate's finger witness to forestall
mortal misgivings’ babble brawl.
Time 's spin yin yang spurs Future’s ball
which strays yet heedless stays withal,
ever in need of overhaul.
We wonder why fate's fleet footfall
ignores far, near, star dear, fear, trust,
quite unconcerned with mortal pall,
oblivious to the rise and fall
of Man’s un-echoed caterwaul.
poem by Jonathan Robin
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I Am Acquifer
I am the Aquifer
in the deep gorge.
I'm rain.
I was water for the many herds
who drank from me.
I'm shelter from the deluge;
treasure house of oxygen
and minerals
which seep
into my rooms
in deep soils replenishing.
I'm life's ecology.
The water source
of all chemistry
and you are my children.
Hear my sad tears.
I taste dirty waterings
and poisonings.
Plentiful I was in the
early years,
under deserts I was salvation for the caravans,
well source for the Egyptians
reservoir for villagers,
beast bird and fowl;
insect and amoebae
all drank from me.
I was the culture source for all life.
My rivers spawned civilization.
Now, I am retreated.
A mixed drink,
consumed
with a steel straw,
nonrenewable;
sipped with too much
over-confidence
and greed.
My table is thin.
My offerings slim.
My purity waned.
I seep below my own level
scattering precious tear-drops
vulcanized to bloody steam
and sometimes I explode
up up
to the blasting cone
and I am deposited amid the ruin,
into the gorge again.
I am slower;
my cycle recedes,
my dry tears howl.
I see Harmony's Crown
crashing down.
I see the End of Plenty
and Horsemen moving
looming, looming, looming;
climate backing up,
bent down eyes,
reeling waterfalls
receding times,
calm resignations,
generations lined up,
against the wall,
whole cities caterwaul,
lakes pirouette,
swirling times sweep up,
all regrets,
all maybes,
all lost,
all gone.
I was the Aquifer
life sustaining;
now, a shadowy voice
dumbfounded
drilled down
in weeping earth.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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To the Reader
Folly, depravity, greed, mortal sin
Invade our souls and rack our flesh; we feed
Our gentle guilt, gracious regrets, that breed
Like vermin glutting on foul beggars' skin.
Our sins are stubborn; our repentance, faint.
We take a handsome price for our confession,
Happy once more to wallow in transgression,
Thinking vile tears will cleanse us of all taint.
On evil's cushion poised, His Majesty,
Satan Thrice-Great, lulls our charmed soul, until
He turns to vapor what was once our will:
Rich ore, transmuted by his alchemy.
He holds the strings that move us, limb by limb!
We yield, enthralled, to things repugnant, base;
Each day, towards Hell, with slow, unhurried pace,
We sink, uncowed, through shadows, stinking, grim.
Like some lewd rake with his old worn-out whore,
Nibbling her suffering teats, we seize our sly
delight, that, like an orange—withered, dry—
We squeeze and press for juice that is no more.
Our brains teem with a race of Fiends, who frolic
thick as a million gut-worms; with each breath,
Our lungs drink deep, suck down a stream of Death—
Dim-lit—to low-moaned whimpers melancholic.
If poison, fire, blade, rape do not succeed
In sewing on that dull embroidery
Of our pathetic lives their artistry,
It's that our soul, alas, shrinks from the deed.
And yet, among the beasts and creatures all—
Panther, snake, scorpion, jackal, ape, hound, hawk—
Monsters that crawl, and shriek, and grunt, and squawk,
In our vice-filled menagerie's caterwaul,
One worse is there, fit to heap scorn upon—
More ugly, rank! Though noiseless, calm and still,
yet would he turn the earth to scraps and swill,
swallow it whole in one great, gaping yawn:
Ennui! That monster frail!—With eye wherein
A chance tear gleams, he dreams of gibbets, while
Smoking his hookah, with a dainty smile. . .
—You know him, reader,—hypocrite,—my twin!
poem by Charles Baudelaire
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Lonely Words...
First time on face book,
a lonely post on the wall.
First time with a poem,
a lonely comment below.
First time on chat,
a lonely sad face: -(
I hate you,
never comes back.
A stare in the eye,
never is enough.
only with lonely words,
have you read and comment.
Until those words have voice,
until the creator is seen...
This are lonely words to speak.
A lonely word like goodbye...
Like the fans spinning on the roof.
The full moon in the sky,
like a dirty sock in the boot.
This lips are lonely till they meet yours,
This arms are hopeless till they hold mine,
This voice is empty without your name sighed,
This are lonely words if I tell lies.
poem by Merlin Mwaura
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Lip Service
Words inspire and words destroy
Words conspire and words annoy
Words spread freedom and words detain
Words believe them in sound refrain
Words of passion in words misleading
Words without action are words without meaning
poem by P.R. Prosper
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I Was Lonely Outside The World Of The Anthologized Poets
I WAS LONELY OUTSIDE THE WORLD OF THE ANTHOLOGIZED POETS
I was lonely outside the world of the anthologized poets-
I was lonely in not being good enough -
I was lonely in not being known -
I was lonely in having given a lifetime to never having been heard-
I was lonely in not being among the voices that will endure-
They were there on those heights
And all around them words of praise were being sung-
And I was lonely alone with my own little voice
Crying and crying and crying
Trying to write and afraid-
A lifetime had been given
And they were there on the glad height
And down in the low alone of my own lost words
Writing and writing forever my own lonely life away
I was as much alone as someone who would have been born in poetry and never was.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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A Boys Love Poem
I am so lonely and alone
In a strange and far away place
And so now I write in a sad lonely tone
Of my heart aching at the memory of your face,
Of my thoughts always upon you
and the words you have said.
And so now I write you in a sad lonely tone
Words that I never have.
So lonely and alone, I think of you.
poem by Cameron Bird
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Delete Every Line
His poor heart is broken
a soul in distress,
sad words ever spoken
there's no happiness.
He is lonely, so lonely
and pines for her only
for her tender caress.
She hears his voice calling
at the end of the day
teardrops keep falling
her world in disarray.
She is lonely, so lonely
and yearns for him only
but she's travelling his way.
Two hearts were broken
but the sun soon will shine
unkind words that were spoken
'delet every line'.
poem by Joyce Hemsley
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So Lonely
Well someone told me yesterday
That when you throw your love away
You act as if you just dont care
You look as if youre going somewhere
But I just cant convince myself
I couldnt live with no one else
And I can only play that part
And sit and nurse my broken heart
So lonely, so lonely, so lonely, so lonely
So lonely, so lonely, so lonely
So lonely, so lonely, so lonely
So lonely, so lonely
Know no ones knocked upon my door
For a thousand years or more
All made up and no where to go
Welcome to this one man show
Just take a seat theyre always free
No surprise no mystery
In this theatre that I call my soul
I always play the starring role
So lonely, so lonely, so lonely, so lonely
So lonely, so lonely, so lonely
So lonely, so lonely, so lonely
So lonely, so lonely
So lonely, so lonely, so lonely, so lonely
So lonely, so lonely, so lonely
I feel so lonely...
song performed by by Police
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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So Lonely
Well someone told me yesterday
That when you throw your love away
You act as if you just dont care
You look as if youre going somewhere
But I just cant convince myself
I couldnt live with no one else
And I can only play that part
And sit and nurse my broken heart
So lonely, so lonely, so lonely, so lonely
So lonely, so lonely, so lonely
So lonely, so lonely, so lonely
So lonely, so lonely
Know no ones knocked upon my door
For a thousand years or more
All made up and no where to go
Welcome to this one man show
Just take a seat theyre always free
No surprise no mystery
In this theatre that I call my soul
I always play the starring role
So lonely, so lonely, so lonely, so lonely
So lonely, so lonely, so lonely
So lonely, so lonely, so lonely
So lonely, so lonely
So lonely, so lonely, so lonely, so lonely
So lonely, so lonely, so lonely
I feel so lonely...
song performed by by Police
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Words
Words on this paper
Words in my head
Words while I'm texting
Computing
Unsaid
Words between people
Words on the phone
Words upon words
Even when I'm alone
Words from the Bible
I question
Don't mesh
Words from pornography
Making them flesh
Words with flat letters
Written in black
Good words and bad words
You cannot take back
Words that are shallow
Words that are deep
When they're too many
They put me to sleep
Words that I'm writing
And rhyming you read
Whatever I'm saying
There's prolly no need
Words from the alphabet
Words that can't be
When you are blind
And it's Braile that you see
Words that are worthless
And said on the fly
My words or your words
Are most likely lies
Words in a sentence
Wise words or fair
The only words earnest
Are those said in prayer
Written by Sara Fielder © 2011
poem by Sara Fielder
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Lonely
Lonely life,
Lonely mind,
Lonely heart,
Lonely love,
Lonely fun,
Lonely work,
Lonely talk,
Lonely thoughts,
Lonely death,
Lonely walk,
Lonely run,
Lonely friend,
Lonely crying,
Lonely recess,
Lonely money,
Lonely health,
Lonely kissing,
Lonely loniness...
poem by Dragon Crenshaw
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Eleanor Rigby
This song was first released on the whose garden was this? album. it is the only album it has been released on.
Ah, look at all the lonely people!
Ah, look at all the lonely people!
Eleanor rigby picks up the rice in the church
Where a wedding has been
Lives in a dream
Waits at the window, wearing a face
That she keeps in a jar by the door
Who is it for?
All the lonely people, where do they all come from?
All the lonely people, where do they all belong?
Father mckenzie, writing the words of a sermon
That no one will hear
No one comes near
Look at him working, darning his socks in the night
When theres nobody there, what does he care?
All the lonely people, where do they all come from?
All the lonely people, where do they all belong?
Ah, look at all the lonely people!
Ah, look at all the lonely people!
Eleanor rigby died in the church and was buried
Along with her name
Nobody came
Father mckenzie wiping the dirt from his hands
As he walks from the grave
No one was saved
All the lonely people, where do they all come from?
All the lonely people, where do they all belong?
Words and music by john lennon and paul mccartney
song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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