The nice thing about New York is that you're finally able to wear those winter clothes that have been sitting in your closet in mothballs.
quote by Kyle MacLachlan
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Closet
In the closet hung her dresses
and her shoes were on the floor.
She would not wear the dresses now
nor the shoes anymore.
He could not give her clothes away.
He smelled them everyday.
In the closet hung her robes
and nightgowns that were sheer.
She would not wear them in the nights,
her nights no longer here.
He could not give them all away.
He fingered them every day.
In the closet he felt close to her
and spoke in whispered word.
'I remember how you looked in these.'
He spoke as if she heard.
'I cannot give your clothes away.
They're all I have of you today.'
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I'm like every other woman: a closet full of clothes, but nothing to wear: So I wear jeans.
quote by Cameron Diaz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Oh, The Winter Is Here!
The farmer couldn’t hear the cock’s crowing,
Though it was six in the morning.
I fumbled for the clock, bedside
Because it was still dark outside.
Then it dawned upon me
Oh, the gloomy winter is here.
Along came blankets and quilts
Shoved inside for months, without care.
And the smell of mothballs filled the air.
Oh, the smelly winter is here.
I laid curled up snug in bed
Just five more minutes, I pleaded.
Oh, the inhibiting winter is here.
The weight of countless clothes
Made my movement slack,
As if carrying another person on my back.
Oh, the heavy and oppressive winter is here.
My fingers are itchy, swollen
And I am in so much pain.
Oh, the winter is here and the chilblain.
Not allowed to ramble out,
Out on a dreadful winter night
Because not one soul is in sight.
Oh, the forbidding winter is here.
The newspapers-flights delayed.
Cars bumped into each other
Because the fog refused to clear.
Oh the obstinate winter is here.
poem by Fadinginto Oblivion
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Since 13
Written by lauren christy/graham edwards/scott spock/ronan keating
Na na na na
Woah ohhh oh ohhh oh
You get lost and lonely
Do you remember times we had
When we were young and crazy fools (ohhhoh oh)
Well we went mad on sundays
Wed go dancing off our feet
Yeah we were breaking all the rules (ohhhoh oh)
Ive always been with you since 13
So come on up, and come on in
You can wear my clothes again
Come on up, and come on in
Pretend to we were way back when
Im still in love with you my friend
Still since then
You could be in a convent
You could be on a new york train
You could be gettin drunk in spain, but youre not
Ive had your heart with me since 13
So come on up, and come on in
You can wear my clothes again
Come on up, and come on in
Pretend to we were way back when
Im still in love with you my friend
Still since then
Ooooooh
Okay you might have not said yes, but you did
And I weigh the benefits
So come on up, and come on in
You can wear my clothes again
Come on up, and come on in
Pretend to we were way back when
Im still in love with you my friends
Still since then
Im still in love with you my friends
Still since then
Still since then
A way back when
Still since then, since then, since then yeah
Na na na na
Ive always been with you since 13
A way back when
Still since then
song performed by by Ronan Keating
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Secrets That You Keep
it is when everyone leaves the room
when everyone goes to their respective places
that one gets to account for the secrets
the fingers begin to count
the heart to beat and the body undresses its own skin
one faces the mirror
and sees the skeletons
in the closet the new clothes are wary to be given attention
'me now? ' i need a structure for my clothes so i may have the shape
you choose, as one by one you take the cartilages and flesh
some toes and nails
to compose yourself again
one takes the mask
the one that they shall love
and the clothes acceptable for the next party
and when they come
the conversations begin
'how nice have you grown' and you compliment too
'well this has always been me' and then you sip the tea
both of you are suspicious
but who cares? the party begins.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If only magic was real.
If only magic was real.
But only for nice wee people.
If evil people had magic,
All chaos would break loose.
The punks would finally get their way,
And there would be all out anarchy.
Evil people could kill nice wee people,
With a flick of the wrist and a ceremonial word,
Assuming that’s how magic would work if it was real.
Alas, we return to the punks,
Their philosophy is non-conforming,
So then the punks would become nice wee people,
And wear nice wee clothes,
And live in houses with white picket fences,
Unless the evil people killed them for being nice wee people.
I wish I had magic.
I would make the world a better place.
Unless everyone had magic,
And everyone would kill everyone else.
I guess there’s a reason we don’t have magic,
We’d just wreck it like everything else we humans do.
We’ve ruined our rainforests,
Our arctic
And our morals.
I guess we don’t have magic,
Because if we did,
We’d just wreck it,
Cause man has a habit of wrecking things.
21: 08 28/03/2006
poem by Mordrid Harpoon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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All The Critics Love U In New York
U can dance if U want 2
All the critics love U in New York
U don't have 2 keep the beat
They'll still think it's neat in New York
U can wear what U want 2
It doesn't matter in New York
U could cut off all your hair
I don't think they'd care in New York
All the critics love U in New York
Why U can play what U want 2
All the critics love U in New York
They won't say that U're naive
If U play what U believe in New York
Purple love-amour is all U're in it 4
But don't show it
The reason that U're cool
Is cuz U're from the old school and they know it
All the critics love U in New York
U can dance if U want 2
All the critics love U in New York
U can dance if U want 2
All the critics love U in New York
All the critics love U
song performed by by Prince from 1999
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Diamond in the rough
My teammates don’t know.
Surely none can suspect-
When I leave from the game
I don’t go home direct.
My lockers my closet,
And in it I hide
my alternate lifestyle
That some wear with pride
Reporters surround me
on the locker-room prowl
I patiently answer,
dripping wet, in a towel.
I’m a likeable guy
And I don’t duck the press
And they never suspect
How I look in a dress.
My lockers my closet,
And in it I hide
my alternate lifestyle
That some wear with pride.
I’ve been a star
in the City for years.
If fans knew what I’m hiding
Would I still hear the cheers?
Sure, you see me around
With a girl on my arm-
But if they want more
I back off in alarm.
It’s kind of ironic-
fans wish they were me-
Could they live with the fear
of chance publicity?
My lockers my closet,
And in it I hide
my alternate lifestyle
That some wear with pride.
poem by John F. McCullagh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Out at the Plate
My teammates don’t know.
Surely none can suspect-
When I leave from the game
I don’t go home direct.
My lockers my closet,
And in it I hide
my alternate lifestyle
That some wear with pride
Reporters surround me
on the locker-room prowl
I patiently answer,
Dripping wet in a towel.
I’m a likeable guy
And I don’t duck the press
And they never suspect
How I look in a dress.
My lockers my closet,
And in it I hide
my alternate lifestyle
That some wear with pride.
I’ve been a star
in the City for years.
If fans knew what I’m hiding
Would I still hear the cheers?
Sure, you see me around
With a girl on my arm-
But if they want more
I back off in alarm.
It’s kind of ironic-
fans express their envy -
Could they live with the fear
of exposure like me?
My lockers my closet,
And in it I hide
my alternate lifestyle
That some wear with pride.
poem by John F. McCullagh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Safe In New York City
(young - young)
Hello baby gimme your hand
Check out the high spots the lay of the land
You dont need a rocket or a big limousine
Come on over baby and Ill make you obscene
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
All over the city and down to the dives
Dont mess with this place itll eat you alive
Got lip smackin honey to soak up the jam
On top of the world ma ready to slam
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
Movin all over like a jumpin bean
Take a look at that thing in the tight ass jeans
Comin your way now you may be in luck
Dont you fret boy shes ready to buck
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
New york, new york, new york
I feel safe in a cage in new york city
2000, j. albert & son, pty.
song performed by by AC-DC
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We need to steer clear of this poverty of ambition, where people want to drive fancy cars and wear nice clothes and live in nice apartments but don't want to work hard to accomplish these things. Everyone should try to realize their full potential.
quote by Barack Obama
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It's So Nice To Be Home
Isn't it nice to be home again
Sitting around the fire with family and friends
Isn't it nice to be home again
It's so nice to be home
My little daughter's sleeping
And the boy is all right
My wife is so lovely
I'll love her tonight
Looking out the window at a new moon’s light
It's so nice to be home
I took old Blue out hunting on a Saturday
We didn't get home until the middle of May
A freaky winter storm went and blocked our way
Old Blue he kept me thinking and a talking 'bout you
And when Blue got down
I’d talk about Bobby and Sue
Together we did what we had to do
To get back home to you
It's so nice to be home.
poem by Steven Sabathie
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Wing And A Prayer
I heard someone talking
about kids and what they wear.
They said they walk about these days
wearing nothing but a wing and a prayer.
I smiled to myself at that remark
because it was obviously they had forgot
about the clothes they used to wear.
So before we are quick to condemn
lets take a trip down memory lane,
back to the clothes we used to wear
when we were that age
and to the designs that were all the rage.
Suppose we go back to the sixties
now that was a good time,
the Mods and the Rockers,
scooters and motorbikes,
not to forget Flower Power.
Oh, yes I remember it well.
The drainpipe trousers,
sitting in the bath
to shrink the jeans down,
not forgetting the holy vest and long hair,
brothel creepers and winkle picker shoes,
and that was just the boys.
What about the girls with their skirts?
There was the maxi, the mini and the micro,
the latter once described as nothing more than a long scarf.
So before we condemn the youngsters today
for going around with nothing but a wing and a prayer, l
et us not forget what we used to wear.
I can remember my parents saying
your showing your knee
now that is so shocking.
Today people look at youngsters
saying it wasn’t like that in my day.
Don’t you believe it,
we were just as bad,
and we were just as crazy as kids today.
When it came to our clothes,
we have no right to condemn
for whatever they wear.
We were just the same at their age,
we used to wear
nothing more than a wing and a prayer.
We called it Fashion
way, way back then,
the same as they call it now.
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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New York Times
New york poor new york
New york poor new york
Cars choking your child to death
But you dont wanna see
Cause you only think about yourself
How blind can you be
New york poor new york
Sniper on the rooftop new york
New york poor new york
Not fit for a dog in new york
Everybody bites on the big apple
Leave the hungry in tears
But no one gives a damn no one really cares
How they feel theyre just paper people not real
You need a gun to walk into new york
Now youre broke and youre out on a ledge
Who can help you this time
Now youre down to your very last cent
Still youre askin me who was your friend
I was your friend
New york poor new york
Who turned the lights out in new york
New york poor new york
Just another blackout in new york
Girl dead on the 26th floor
But no one knew her name
Found her body behind the door
Too young for the game
New york poor new york
Devils in the subway new york
New york poor new york
New york poor new york
Talkin talkin talkin - watch out
Harlem touching midtown new york
New york poor new york
Talkin bout new york new york
Moneys getting tighter new york
Theyre burning the bridges to new york
song performed by by Cat Stevens
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Skeletons In The Closet
Woah-oh, woah-oh
Skeletons in my closet
Woah-oh, woah-oh yeah
Skeletons in my closet
Skeletons in my closet
Skeletons in my shoes
Skeletons I can only see
I said woah-oh, woah-oh
I got skeletons in my closet
I said woah-oh, woah-oh yeah
Skeletons in my closet
Skeletons I can lose
Skeletons in my basement
Loitering on my streets
Wearing my best pajamas
Sandwiched between my sheets
I said woah-oh, woah-oh yeah
Skeletons in my closet
I said woah-oh, woah-oh yeah
Skeletons in my closet
Ooh, I see bones
I see bones, icy bones
Ooh, I see bones
Say say bones - say boys don't you see them bones?
Rattle them bones at midnight
Shaking my bed, no sleep
I find fingers in my coat pocket
Skeletons from the deep
I said woah-oh, woah-oh
I got skeletons in my closet
I said woah-oh, woah woah-oh
I got skeletons in my closet
Ooh, I see bones
I see bones, s-see bones
Ooh, I see bones
I see bones
Say boys don't you see them bones?
No?
Heart bones, leg bones, ankle bones, arm bones,
finger bones, dogie bones, head bones
Skeletons in my closet
They even know when I'm in my closet
It's my.. my closet
Not your closet
My closet
You can have it though
Alice we want you
Alice
Alice
A-Alice
What?
Whaddya want
song performed by by Alice Cooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fold It All Away
The fire, the heat, the hungry daze -
I will fold it all away.
Like clothes just meant for summer days
It’s winter now - cold here to stay
You made my heart soar and leap
And now my heart will go to sleep
Like clothes just meant for summer days
It’s winter now - cold here to stay
All desire in me is gone -
Another’s touch would just feel wrong
Like clothes just meant for summer days
It’s winter now - cold here to stay
Your smile’s engraved inside my head,
The view of you, touching foreheads
Like clothes just meant for summer days
It’s winter now - cold here to stay
A kiss that made my heart melt,
Feelings I had never felt
Like clothes just meant for summer days
It’s winter now - cold here to stay
I loved to hear your laughter most
But now the sound will be a ghost
Like clothes just meant for summer days
I will fold it all away
Such warmth and love can never stay
I will fold
It all
Away
Higher than I’ve ever been
The fall is here - let it begin
But I will rise again someday
The cold and winter cannot stay
For now that day seems far away
Like clothes just meant for summer days
And I will fold
Every piece
Away
It’s winter now
The cold
Will stay
About The Boy
the door was locked
and the boy has nowhere to go
except the closet filled with
clothes
the tongue of the devil came
and devoured them all
clothes and all
his screams faded like
sunset
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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He that would be healthy must wear his winter clothes in summer.
I think winter wear is communal. You get some gloves and a scarf from a lost-and-found box, wash them, wear them for a while until you lose them. Then somebody else does the same thing.
quote by Adrian Grenier
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Winter Pulp
The cadence of the wind striding
Resembles that of the restive exhaustion
Of the children wearing mittens
Beyond the Sun’s cold leash –
Or the chortling of the elders
As they read the newspapers
Subtly sitting on a suede chair
Relishing in the façade of the brazen
Winter, and every pulp of sodden glacier.
My hands are tremulous as the cold vapor
Of the bottle I am holding schemes
With the allure of the winter fate
Or winter serendipity and defeat me
With a foray that none can match
And that is – to render me wholly alone
With partial, fragmented hope that
Cannot be resuscitated and form a city
Of erratic allegories.
Yes, the winter pulp
I have been there – the winter’s pulp
Clothes me as if I am a sartorial man of erudition,
Poise and grace,
When I am just one of the pulps of winter –
Forgotten,
And disconsolate.
poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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