It always amazes me to think that every house on every street is full of so many stories; so many triumphs and tragedies, and all we see are yards and driveways.
quote by Glenn Close
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Related quotes
Not Only Can Stun But Shock
It amazes me,
How a few dollars...
Can change one's perception.
Or a title one is given.
Or where one goes to school,
To receive a degree.
It amazes me,
What one wears on one's back...
Indicates to some,
Where that person's mind is at.
Or where one lives suggests,
Someone has hygiene.
And that is daily addressed.
Or what one drives,
Has a lesser need for gasoline.
Or the person that drives a nice car...
Can afford to buy groceries.
It amazes me...
How some folks judge other folks,
By skin color alone.
And how some folks with the same skin tone...
Dislike themselves,
Or siblings they can't condone.
Or those living on the same street who don't even speak.
And these same folks attend the same church...
To hear a preacher sermonize about sin,
And communal unity!
It amazes me how ignorance expressed,
Receives more respect than someone with intelligence.
It amazes me how decadence is praised.
And those who choose to worship it...
Are the ones of sleaze,
Who sit on pedestals raised!
This,
Not only can stun...
But shock anyone,
Who has been awakened from an unconsciousness!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Any Street In Any Town
Look down any street
in any town across the land
at the rows of houses there.
Then you begin to wonder
what memories each house shares.
Some of happiness
where dreams have come true.
Some are of sadness
where lives have been hurt by pain.
Some with tragic stories
they never want to share again.
Each house will have many stories
of the individuals whom lived there.
Each story will be different
from all the rest.
Each leave memories
in every room they slept.
Their stories are unending
as new families come along.
22 November 2007
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Walk A Nameless River
I walk a nameless river
One which collects water from the houses,
The streets and such,
A river of rain that carry small sticks,
Cigarettes butts and, bits of paper
A shadow river that moves pap like rocks
A river trapped in the street cars’ tracks
A river rushing past ants and praying mantises
Against butterflies and worms that comes up and leave
Body tracks in the mud.
A river fed by puddles and cracks; indents in the sidewalks
By downward slanted driveways and situated front yards
By small streams on window glass and streams down sycamore trucks,
Maple, oak and such.
A cleaning river of gutterized rain,
A leaf drooping rain of green things,
River of no name
Too thin to carry twigs
Easily distracted by my foot
Easily stagnated into a nameless pond
When the sky has dried out.
I walk a one street river
A shallow river of clinched fists
A narrow river of butterflies in the nameless sky
A concrete river of feet saturated against the maple rocks
A river of bodies coming up leaving a river of cracks
A river of cigarettes of worms of sycamore trunks, oak
Marble and such.
A thin river of destruction, of gutters and traped tracks
Of sticks collected among themselves like dead praying mantises
In the rush of houses and driveways stacked in the water
Of a small rainy sky.
poem by David E. Patton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Like Life
It amazes me how it can work
so perfectly
and naturally
How sometimes rhymes come
as if pre-designed
And the rhythm of the words
Like a flock of birds
One leads and the others follow
Without question
It amazes me how it can work
so poignantly
To describe the undefined
Like eternity
It amazes me how it can work
so beautifully
And mysteriously
Like life
Poetry
poem by Sonya Florentino
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It Amazes Me
This song appears on four albums, and was first released on the I want to live album. it has been released on the rocky mountain collection, the country roads collection and the country classics
Ms.
You came looking for the answers
To some questions on his mind
Seeking truth and understanding
In the hope that he would find
A way to better serve his brothers
And his sisters in the sun
Sharing all that he has given
Giving all to everyone
Come and listen to the story
Of a journey once begun
Of a people and their plenty
And their season in the sun
And how they gave themselves to symbols
And things that they could hold
Living lives in desperation
In the fear of letting go
It amazes me
And I know the wind will surely one day
Blow it all away
It amazes me
And Im so very grateful that you made the world this way
For our plans have come together now
Where do we go from here
Will our differences divide us
Must we always live in fear
For there are things that we must move through
Some things to cast aside
But our father watches over us
Our mother will provide
It amazes me
And I know the wind will someday surely
Blow it all away
It amazes me
And Im so very grateful that you made the world this way
It amazes me
It amazes me
It amazes me
Words and music by john denver
song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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House Hunting for M lady Ann Beard
Some houses seem to welcome you.
You feel at ease immediately.
It is if the walls recall
What happened here and store it all.
The triumphs and the tragedies
Firm memories of past events
Have been recorded faithfully
Each and every incident.
If you are at all sensitive
You tune into the ambience,
the positive and negative.
Impinge somehow so you can sense.
That something dreadful happened here
It may be faint it may be strong
but it affects the atmosphere.
You know at once this house is wrong
You’re certain that it will not do.
You have no doubt, no doubt at all
You know the house is telling you
it has no choice it must recall
All the unpleasant memories
which it has stored so faithfully.
For decades perhaps centuries.
You choose to leave immediately.
The next house which you choose to view
affects you in a different way.
It seems prepared to welcome you.
You can decide without delay
It is not hard to make the choice
This is the house that you will buy
You listen to that house’s voice
because you know it cannot lie.
You go ahead complete the deal
prepare to move in right away
You are content because you feel
that everything has gone your way.
You know that it was meant to be
It’s all that you were looking for.
This house responds positively
You need not look at any more.
21/07/2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Our House
Father wears his sunday best
Mothers tired she needs a rest
The kids are playing up downstairs
Sisters sighing in her sleep
Brothers got a date to keep
He cant hang around
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our ...
Our house it has a crowd
Theres always something happening
And its usually quite loud
Our mum shes so house-proud
Nothing ever slows her down
And a mess is not allowed
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our ...
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our ...
Something tells you that youve got to get away from it
Father gets up late for work
Mother has to iron his shirt
Then she sends the kids to school
Sees them off with a small kiss
Shes the one theyre going to miss
In lots of ways
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our ...
I remember way back then when everything was true and when
We would have such a very good time such a fine time
Such a happy time
And I remember how wed play simply waste the day away
Then wed say nothing would come between us two dreamers
Father wears his sunday best
Mothers tired she needs a rest
The kids are playing up downstairs
Sisters sighing in her sleep
Brothers got a date to keep
He cant hang around
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our ...
Our house, was our castle and our keep
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, that was where we used to sleep
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our street
song performed by by Madness
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Keep five yards from a carriage, ten yards from a horse, and a hundred yards from an elephant; but the distance one should keep from a wicked man cannot be measured.
My mother wanted us to understand that the tragedies of your life one day have the potential to be comic stories the next.
quote by Nora Ephron
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Buried in the Sunset
Sun is crawling down
I wait for you
Two yards under
I was buried in the sunset
Im still alive here
Still waiting for you
Two yards under
I was buried in the sunset
Days are passing by
Its getting hard to breathe
Two yards under
I was buried in the sunset
I faked my death
since i felt a threat
Two yards under
I was buried in the sunset
Now real death is drawing near
as the sun breaks the new dawn
but Im no longer waiting for you
I sacrificed,
Two yards under
I buried myself in the sunset
- FaraM Siddiqui
poem by FaraM Siddiqui
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Swollen (Final Chapter)
they talked throught the night
as the candle burned down, exchanging
the stories of their lives.
then finally, they just sat in the stillness,
listening to the walls of the old house
breathe.
he thought about his life, the work, the
family, the love... all gone.
she whispered, 'be still, they're coming...'
the lights of the cruiser inched up the
street. stopping, they shone a light into
the old house, like fingers probing.
they sat motionless, afraid to move..
finally, they moved on.
'they'll be back, someone's called...' she
began to cry.
he sat up and dug in his pocket. pulling
out a wadded up old black and white photo,
he straightened it out, taking out a fifty
dollar bill.
'i want you to have it... when they go to chasing
me, take the baby, and run...'
before she could say anything, he was up and
out the door.
he crouched in the bushes at the end of the drive.
when he saw the cruiser coming, he stood up and
let out a whoop. he took off running as fast as he
could go, trying to put distance between them and
the old house
when they finally cornered him, one street over, he
put up a struggle. as they beat him to the ground
with their batons, he imagined he could see the lights
of a car going down the street. it was the last thing
he ever remembered!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lydia Is Gone This Many A Year
Lydia is gone this many a year,
Yet when the lilacs stir,
In the old gardens far or near,
The house is full of her.
They climb the twisted chamber stair;
Her picture haunts the room;
On the carved shelf beneath it there,
They heap the purple bloom.
A ghost so long has Lydia been,
Her cloak upon the wall,
Broidered, and gilt, and faded green,
Seems not her cloak at all.
The book, the box on mantel laid,
The shells in a pale row,
Are those of some dim little maid,
A thousand years ago.
And yet the house is full of her;
She goes and comes again;
And longings thrill, and memories stir,
Like lilacs in the rain.
Out in their yards the neighbors walk,
Among the blossoms tall;
Of Anne, of Phyllis, do they talk,
Of Lydia not at all.
poem by Lizette Woodworth Reese
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This Is My House
I read a book
About conversation and you
I listen to
Stories that intrude on my heart again
This is my house
Welcome is here
This is my house
Welcome to me
My picture of your face
Will disappear with time
Patience in eyes
That say occupied
Quite peculiar
This is my house
Welcome is here
This is my house
Welcome to me
song performed by by Gary Numan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet: An Empty House Remembers
The empty house around me ticks and creaks,
A moody end to evening's gentle rains,
A brooding quiet as the daylight wanes,
The secret language empty houses speak.
What stories might this house preserve entire
In rhythmic code composed of click and groan?
Does House recall a sadness with each moan?
Is laughter stored in every plank and wire?
And how might I, a fleeting visitor,
Acquire an ear for stories trapped in time,
And wrap a tale or two in words and rhyme?
How can I tap the House's secret lore?
In silence soft the house slips off to sleep.
Alone I sit, in darkness vast and deep.
poem by Russell Collier
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Browning's tragedies are tragedies without villains.
quote by Edward Dowden
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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House On Henderson
I can remeber all the times
When we would go blind
We would be dead on our feet
But it was fine we had good times
In the House on Henderson Street
We would play our music
And sing our songs
And drink in the heat
When the air wasnt on
In the cold, rain or shine, through hail and sleet
We always had goodtimes
In the house on henderson street
We would have kegs in the kitchen
And I was itching
For that sweet feeling in my mind
Throw a tire on the roof, scream in the streets
Filled up with alcohol, lets get something to eat.
Though my memories are hazy
And the nights were crazy
I wont forget the people we'd meet
But it was fine we had goodtimes
At the house on henderson street.
It was fine when we lost our minds
At the house on henderson street.
poem by Blaine McCanless
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Stories
Through every window, we look out
what we see on the other side
holds many stories waiting to unfold.
Stories of great achievements
within someone’s life.
Stories of gathering love
found with in open arms.
Stories of perusing heartaches
where someone has gone away.
Stories a million fold
that surround every living thing.
Stories we are not aware of,
but happen before our eyes.
Stories to share with all
from those who can see them unfold.
The next time you look out a window
try and see what is really there,
the stories that are everywhere.
26 July 2009
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The house on henderson
I can remember all the times
When we would go blind
We would be dead on our feet
But it was fine we had good times
In the House on Henderson Street
We would play our music
And sing our songs
And drink in the heat
When the air wasn't on
In the cold, rain or shine, through hail and sleet
We always had good times
In the house on Henderson street
We would have kegs in the kitchen
And I was itching
For that sweet feeling in my mind
Throw a tire on the roof, scream in the streets
Filled up with alcohol, lets get something to eat.
Though my memories are hazy
And the nights were crazy
I wont forget the people we'd meet
But it was fine we had good times
At the house on Henderson street.
It was fine when we lost our minds
At the house on Henderson street.
poem by Blaine McCanless
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A House called Lonely (A Trilogy in three parts)
There is a street in every town that owns a house
called lonely. Then when your just passing by you might
just say, 'if only.
If only could mean a life time of thoughts but it does'nt cure
a lonely house and all its faults.
Boarded up windows and tiles gone from the roof, graffiti
painted by a rebelious youth.
Such a lonely house and an oh such a tired one,
one that has lost all it's fun.
Stairs and rafters all gone to pot all that is left
is wood worm and dry rot.
No children playing in the garden, it's just a house condemend
by the council without no pardon. Poor lonely house someones
forgotton dream, now describing lifes social scene.
This lonely house stands in the way because their building
a By Pass or a new motorway.
The house called lonely could be any where, in the town, the
country or city square.
Even in your street there's a house called lonely just waiting
for you to say 'if only'
poem by Sylvia Spencer
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On The Street
On the street
On the street
O, O, On the street
On the street
O, O, On the street
[Everybody dance]
[Watch for the difference]
On the street
{Breaking on broadway]
O, O, On the street
[Shaking on sunset strip]
On the street
[Like nobody booming supporting that]
Da, da, da, da, da ...
On the street
On the street
Dancing
On the street
On the street
Dancing
Dancing
On the street
On the street
[Twisting on the turnpipe]
Dancing
On the street
On the street
On the street ...
Da, da, da, da, ...
Dance on the street ...
song performed by by Madonna
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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