The Evenings Young
The evenings young
The night began
Between the bottles in a mirror
Im smiling at myself
Look in my eyes and start to count
The bottles on the shelf
Bottles on the shelf
Evenings young
The night began
Barman brings another beer
Could ask myself
Why am I here
Between the bottles in a mirror
Smiling at myself
Look in my eyes and start to count
The bottles on the shelf
I know I could at any time
Get up the chair and leave this place
I know I could at any time
Get up the chair and leave this place
I wait for me and my decision
Between the bottles thats my face
Tv shows a football game
I leave the place but all the same
If someone asked me hey guy you
Where do you go, what do you do?
I wouldnt know what I could say
song performed by by Yello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
The Evenings Young
The evenings young
The night began
Between the bottles in a mirror
Im smiling at myself
Look in my eyes and start to count
The bottles on the shelf
Bottles on the shelf
Evenings young
The night began
Barman brings another beer
Could ask myself
Why am I here
Between the bottles in a mirror
Smiling at myself
Look in my eyes and start to count
The bottles on the shelf
I know I could at any time
Get up the chair and leave this place
I know I could at any time
Get up the chair and leave this place
I wait for me and my decision
Between the bottles thats my face
Tv shows a football game
I leave the place but all the same
If someone asked me hey guy you
Where do you go, what do you do?
I wouldnt know what I could say
song performed by by Yello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Feelings From a Bottle
Feelings from a bottle
Thats what he used to say
I get my feelings from a bottle
Every night and every day
They used to make you happy
The feelings that you had
But since you have lost everyone
The bottles make you sad?
Why don't you throw the bottles?
Just chuck them in the bin
He'd look at me with a deep sadness
Because I know I will give in.
No you wont, I used to say
Your strong like superman.
He picked up another bottle and said
Honey, I don't think I can.
So I would watch him and the bottles
Of feelings, sadness and hate
I would hide away and cry
Because the feelings would graduate
And then one night he decided
That he should take a drive
Too many bottles of feelings
He had a car accident, and he died.
poem by Anonymus Girl
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bottles And Diapers
Bottles and diapers soon I will have to have
When this baby will come
It will be a necessity for this baby
I will have to have plenty of bottles and diapers around
Because they run out fast specially the diapers
I don’t want to run out of the diapers when the baby is around
Bottles and diapers have to be around where I can reach
Bottles and diapers the baby will use it every day
Until he is a child
And when he gets to be a child
I won’t have to worry about bottles and diapers again
poem by Aldo Kraas
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Two More Bottles Of Wine
(delbert mcclinton)
We came out west together with a common desire
The fever we had might-a set the west coast on fire
Two months later got a troublin mind
cause my baby moved out and left me behind
But its all right cause its midnight and I got two more bottles of wine
Well, the way he left sure turned my head around
Seemed like over night he just up and put me down
Aint gonna let it bother me today
cause Ive been workin and Im too tired anyway
But its all right cause its midnight and I got two more bottles of wine
Well, Im sixteen hundred miles from the people I know
Ive been doin what I can but opportunity sure comes slow
Thought Id be a big star by today
But Ive been sleepin in a warehouse in west l.a.
But its all right cause its midnight and I got two more bottles of wine
Yes, its all right cause its midnight and I got two more bottles of wine
song performed by by Martina Mcbride
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Crack in their bottles
CRACK IN THEIR BOTTLES
Go ahead, feed your children crack in their bottles
fill up their heads with useless lies
start when they're young
tell them aloud, 'everyone is equal, unique in their own way'
whisper quietly insults full of hate.
go ahead, fill up their heads with these lies
Go ahead, feed your children crack in their bottles
feed them pills with their juice
tell them aloud, 'these will calm you down.'
whisper quietly, 'so I don’t have to deal with you'
Go ahead, fill up their heads with these useless lies
then wonder where you went wrong.
Go ahead, feed your children crack in their bottles
fill up their heads with useless lies
tell them, it doesn’t matter how they look
but slip them diet pills behind their back
go ahead, fill up their heads with these useless lies
then wonder why they are depressed.
Go ahead, feed your children crack in their bottles
fill up their heads with useless lies
tell them aloud you love them no matter what they do
whisper quietly that you never wanted them
go ahead, fill up their heads with these useless lies
then wonder what you did wrong.
So go ahead, feed your children crack in their bottles
fill up their heads with useless lies
but I’ll sit back and wonder why
what’s so wrong with the truth?
I’ll feed your children love in their bottles
tell them they're special everyday
show them I mean it with a hug and a kiss
and try to fix what you’ve done wrong
I’ll feed your children laughter in their bottles
tell them aloud 'everyone’s unique'
and whisper quietly the exact same thing
I’ll go ahead and feed your children the truth
trying to undo what you have done.
I'll feed your children confidence in their bottles
tell them aloud how special they are
hug them when they act their worst
and whisper quietly that they're the best
so go ahead, feed your children crack in their bottles
and fill up their heads with useless lies
I’ll sit back and try my hardest
to undo everything that you do.
poem by Liz Colavecchio
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Twenty-Pound Stone
It nests in the hollow of my pelvis, I carry it with both hands, as if
offering my stomach, as if it were pulling me forward.
At night the sun leaks from it, it turns cold, I sleep with it
beside my head, I breath for it.
Sometimes I dream of hammers.
I am hammering it back into sand, the sand we melt into glass,
the glass we blow into bottles.
This stone is fifteen green bottles with nothing inside.
It never bleeds, it never heals, it is a soup can left on the back shelf,
the label worn off.
It is the corner of a house, the beginning of a wall.
At night it changes shape, it lies on one side, casting jagged shadows.
It brightens where my tongue touches it.
Richard's eyes were this color, a pale fruit, honeydew.
When I swing it over my head I swear it could lift me.
If I jump from a bridge it would drag me down, the current couldn't
carry us, it has no lungs, no pockets of air.
If I could walk it to the center of a frozen pond & leave it,
in the spring it would be gone.
poem by Nick Flynn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Vantage Point Of Their Lonely Studios
Bottles hidden under couches which turn out
To be beds:
Bottles on top of red cement, bottles spinning
Burning with questions:
Bottles the answer to this;
My face bleared with roses and abandoned highways,
And cars abandoned,
And forts except for their mad soldier blooming fireworks:
And Kellies are in the sky,
Rippling as if with banners of all her men,
The kaleidoscope of her delinquent theatre, the rosaries
Of her body’s tattoo;
And I am fully scarred and pretty, and I think of her,
Because I have nothing left in who I am:
And she sees her children as dolphins swimming beneath her,
Swimming through the immense greenness of this underage
Garden,
Going towards the sounds of dinner, like bottles spinning
Attune to the whistling of such an immense foreclosure;
For when her eyes are closed, everything is going to
Shut down,
And the parks disappear under the stipulation of her closing
Heirs,
And her perfumes leave us just as transfixed as bachelors
Staring down at the beautiful lesbians who are playing just like
The pinkest otters from the vantage point of their lonely
Studios.
poem by Bret R. Crabrooke
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Nine Green Bottles.
Ten green bottles sitting on the shelf
At times like this I just want to help myself
Everyone knows me so I can do as I please
Oh..I do fancy some cheese
Quietly I’ll spirit them away
One or two every other day
Oh dear, I’ve got my collar felt
Maybe now I’ll get some help.
poem by Brian Roy Skyers
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Two More Bottle Of Wine
(Delbert McClinton)
We came out west together with a common desire
The fever we had migtha set the west coast on fire
Two months later got trouble in mind
My baby moved out and left me behind
But it's all right 'cause it's midnight
And I got two more bottles of wine
The way he left sure turned my head around
Seemed like overnight she just up and put me down
Ain't gonna let it bother me today
I been workin' and I'm too tired anyway
But it's all right 'cause it's midnight
And I got two more bottles of wine
I'm sixteen hundred miles from the people I know
Been doin' all I can but opportunity sure come slow
Lord I'd be in the sun all day
But I'm sweepin' out a warehouse in west L.A.
But it's all right 'cause it's midnight
And I got two more bottles of wine
song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Two More Bottles Of Wine
(delbert mcclinton)
We came out west together with a common desire
The fever we had migtha set the west coast on fire
Two months later got trouble in mind
My baby moved out and left me behind
But its all right cause its midnight
And I got two more bottles of wine
The way he left sure turned my head around
Seemed like overnight she just up and put me down
Aint gonna let it bother me today
I been workin and Im too tired anyway
But its all right cause its midnight
And I got two more bottles of wine
Im sixteen hundred miles from the people I know
Been doin all I can but opportunity sure come slow
Lord Id be in the sun all day
But Im sweepin out a warehouse in west l.a.
But its all right cause its midnight
And I got two more bottles of wine
song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bottles To The Ground
You know it when its over
Doors are closing feel the
Sober staring at you
You better take
One last good look
One more round and
Its bottles to the
Ground smashing
Of the glass what a supersonic sound
You gotta pull the
Plug when its time
To die bottles to
The ground
Theres a suitcase
On the sidewalk
Theres a record in
A milkcrate, shell be
Staying youll be
Trowing wiskey
Over one lip
One more round
Then its bottle
To the ground
Smasing of the
Glass a perfect
Imperfect sound
You gotta pay the
Piper when the rats
Are gone whoa whoa
All bottles
To the ground
song performed by by NOFX
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Lost Drink
I had spent the night in the watch-house --
My head was the size of three --
So I went and asked the chemist
To fix up a drink for me;
And he brewed it from various bottles
With soda and plenty of ice,
With something that smelt like lemon,
And something that seemed like spice.
It fell on my parching palate
Like the dew on a sunbaked plain,
And my system began to flourish
Like the grass in the soft spring rain;
It wandered throughout my being,
Suffusing my soul with rest,
And I felt as I "scoffed" that liquid
That life had a new-found zest.
I have been on the razzle-dazzle
Full many a time since then
But I never could get the chemist
To brew me that drink again.
He says he's forgotten the notion --
'Twas only by chance it came --
He's tried me with various liquids
But oh! they are not the same.
We have sought, but we sought it vainly,
That one lost drink divine;
We have sampled his various bottles,
But somehow they don't combine:
Yet I know when I cross the River
And stand on the Golden Shore
I shall meet with an angel chemist
To brew me that drink once more.
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bottle
Life long bottle partner
Feeding bottle at childhood
To Ganga jal(Holy water of river Ganga)
Bottle at deathbed
Water bottle at schooldays
Cold drinks bottles
And liquor bottles at adulthood
And blood bottles at hospital bed.
Lifelong bottle partner
Lifelong bottle partner
Our life our soul is in a bottle
This body is bottle
And it is life partner.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Twelve Days of Christmas – Walking
One fall while walking a path beside the Snake River I spotted a baby's pacifier hanging on a tree limb just over our heads. It caused me to start singing these words to the 12 Days of Christmas tune.
On the first day of Christmas my true love gave to me
A pacifier in a bare tree
On the second day of Christmas my true love gave to me
Two diaper pails
and a pacifier in a bare tree
On the third day of Christmas my true love gave to me
Three baby rattles
Two diaper pails
and a pacifier in a bare tree
On the fourth day of Christmas my true love gave to me
Four Lysol bottles
Three baby rattles
Two diaper pails
and a pacifier in a bare tree
On the fifth day of Christmas my true love gave to me
Five baby bibs
Four Lysol bottles
Three baby rattles
Two diaper pails
and a pacifier in a bare tree
On the sixth day of Christmas my true love gave to me
Six baby booties
Five baby bibs
Four Lysol bottles
Three baby rattles
Two diaper pails
and a pacifier in a bare tree
On the seventh day of Christmas my true love gave to me
Seven hours of bawling
Six baby booties
Five baby bibs
Four Lysol bottles
Three baby rattles
Two diaper pails
and a pacifier in a bare tree
On the eighth day of Christmas my true love gave to me
Eight baby blankets
Seven hours of bawling
Six baby booties
Five baby bibs
Four Lysol bottles
Three baby rattles
Two diaper pails
and a pacifier in a bare tree
On the ninth day of Christmas my true love gave to me
Nine burps a burbling
Eight baby blankets
Seven hours of bawling
Six baby booties
Five baby bibs
Four Lysol bottles
Three baby rattles
Two diaper pails
and a pacifier in a bare tree
On the tenth day of Christmas my true love gave to me
Ten baby bottles
Nine burps a burbling
Eight baby blankets
Seven hours of bawling
Six baby booties
Five baby bibs
Four Lysol bottles
Three baby rattles
Two diaper pails
and a pacifier in a bare tree
On the eleventh day of Christmas my true love gave to me
Eleven diapers piled up
Ten baby bottles
Nine burps a burbling
Eight baby blankets
Seven hours of bawling
Six baby booties
Five baby bibs
Four Lysol bottles
Three baby rattles
Two diaper pails
and a pacifier in a bare tree
On the twelfth day of Christmas my true love gave to me
Twelve fifths of brandy
Eleven diapers piled up
Ten baby bottles
Nine burps a burbling
Eight baby blankets
Seven hours of bawling
Six baby booties
Five baby bibs
Four Lysol bottles
Three baby rattles
Two diaper pails
and a pacifier in a bare tree
poem by James L. A. Huetson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Beloved Porcupine
Doe not betraye thy beloved porcupine,
Confirmed it is; earth turns around a critter,
thee were bacchic, sipping bottles o' wine.
How could thee misbehave to a crit benign?
sly vulturettes desired the round flitter,
Doe not betraye thy beloved porcupine.
Now who will stand on supermarket line?
guilty thou art, dishonored and quitter,
thee were bacchic, sipping bottles o' wine.
Thou shalt nought mistreat a love so divine
In slopes thy porcupine will slide 'n' skitter,
Doe not betraye thy beloved porcupine
Thy porcupine cared for Italian, to dine;
In poem verses betwixt, embraced emitter,
thee were bacchic, sipping bottles o' wine.
Stirring thy mind, inspired poesy, Einstein,
perceptive kind, critter wisdom, on twitter
Doe not betraye thy beloved porcupine
thee were bacchic, sipping bottles o' wine.
A pentameter humorous Villanelle.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Recipe To Care For Someone With HIV/AIDS
Ingredients
3 cups of patience
5 pounds of compassion
7 packets of gentleness
3 bottles of kindness
5 jars of humor
7 packets of smiles
3 bottles of calmness
3 pounds of humility
5 bottles of mercy
7 jars of peace
3 cups of sensitivity
5 packets of joy
7 pounds of forgiveness
3 bottles of knowledge about the HIV/AIDS Virus
Gallons of love and gallons of prayer
Method
Take knowledge, humility and sensitivity and mix well.
Stir in kindness, forgiveness and patience, very slowly.
Whip in gentleness, calmness and joy. Blend with mercy, peace
and compassion. Then add smiles and humor whenever needed.
Pour in as much love as possible, taste the care then add toppings
of prayer and serve as desired to anyone with HIV/AIDS.
poem by Cedil C. Booker
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Miss Lakeishia Sings The Blues
Listen, mister, you're a guest
at the Night Owl Club
so you can sit here
all night long, tip me
after every song,
buy me scotch
till the final gong
but none of that will help.
You'll still go home alone
unless some other lady has a need
to make her rent
and sees the opportunity
you offer. It won't be me;
I can't be bothered.
I need a different kind of man,
a man who'll hug me tighter
than my panties can,
a big ole man
whose big ole tongue
will be my tampon
when I'm dry.
Get off that stool
and look in the mirror
behind those whiskey bottles
so you can see what I see.
Then we'll both know why
you can never be that man,
not even for an hour.
I'm no Billie Holiday,
but even with my glasses off,
I can see that you
ain't no John Wayne.
poem by Donal Mahoney
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Down the Sweet Shop
The little corner shop
full of special treats
Chocolate, bottles of Pop,
and jars and jars of sweets.
With pocket money in hand
given to me by my Dad
sometimes a little bit extra
if he heard I'd been a good lad.
I really loved that little shop
it was every young boys dream
you could get everything you'd want
Football Cards, Toys, and Ice-Cream.
My dad used the shop as well
he'd pop in to buy his fags
and Mum did her weekly shop
she'd get me to help her with the bags.
Then along came the big supermarket
the little shop began to lose it's trade
so sadly it had to close it's doors
an end of an era again I'm afraid.
But I'll always remember the little shop
stood there at the bottom of our lane
yes it may have only been small
but it had more style than any supermarket chain!
poem by Kevin Halls
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What's It Gonna Be
It use to be
Early mornings late nights
Partying everyday all day
My phone constantly ringing
'Ashley where you at'
Out and about all day
Never ever home
Enough money to buy a car
Never saved dime
Buying bag after bag
A couple bottles here and there
Never no time for bullshit
Always on the go
Catch me if you can
Now its
Watch the sunrise then go to bed
Up all night long
Parties once in awhile
My phone never ringing
Home all day long
Not enough money
To even get a pack of gum
Still got bags after bags
Still a couple bottles here and there
Still no time for bullshit
Never on the go
Constantly watching my little cousin
Now anybody can catch me
poem by Ashley Olson
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My mirror, My walkway
On summer evenings I go walking through the streets
Over my London Bridge, across the mississippi river
The place where I am to stay
When my beach is far away
Some nights I just strut across
With lingering stress on my mind
Other dawns I stop to watch the sunrise
Some evenings, I go to the right spot
And I look down into a large mirror
I catch the sun bidding me farewll
As I look into my mirror
As I see the sky
I catch my reflection in the sun's eyes
Sometimes, when I'm caught inbetween
I hear some commoners comment, then insult my bridge and mirror
If it's six feet long and falling, who cares?
If it's the city sewage dump, who cares?
On summer evenings and autumn dawns
I walk over my London Bridge
Across my mississippi river
I stop to look into my mirror
And I catch a glimpse of a life
A life that's nowhere to be found
Except within the depths of my heart
poem by DJD Quick/dd
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