In deep silence
a distinguished violin
at the flea market—
the seller arranging
the strings in the lily’s shadow
tanka by Eduard Țară from Haiku: Magazine of Romanian – Japanese Relationships (2004), translated by Magdalena Dale
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Violin
Four strings across the bridge,
Ready to carry me over,
Over the quavers, drunk in the bars,
Out of the realm of the orchestra,
Out of the realm of the orchestra.
Filling me up with the shivers.
Filling me up with the shivers and quivers.
Filling me up with the shivers.
Get the bow going!
Let it scream to me:
Violin! violin! violin!
Get the bow going!
Let it scream to me:
Violin! violin! violin!
Paganini up on the chimney,
Lord of the dance,
With nero and old nicky.
Whack that devil
Into my fiddlestick!
Give me the banshees for b.v.s,*
Give me the banshees for b.v.s.
Jigging along with the fiddle, oh, johnny.
Jigging along with the fiddle-dee-dee.
Jigging along with the fiddle, oh, johnny.
Jigging along with the fiddle-dee-diddle-dee-dee!
Get the bow going!
Let it scream to me:
Violin! violin! violin!
Get the bow going!
Let it scream to me:
Violin! violin! violin!
Get the bow going!
Let it scream to me:
Violin! violin! violin!
Get the bow going!
Let it scream to me:
Violin! violin! violin!
song performed by by Kate Bush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Now I Have My Eyes On Dinner
When I say I am seeking something substantial in my life?
Why does that make you laugh to see me at a flea market?
I am seeking something that doesn't need to be high maintenanced...
Looking for wrinkles to moisturized.
To get nipped and tucked when bags begin to sag.
'And...
You are going to find that at a flea market? '
OH yes.
Some people don't know quality to throw it away.
Just like that.
Maybe recently divorced?
Or separated?
'You are talking about being at flea market,
Right! '
Ab-so-yes indeed-lutely!
And today must be my lucky day.
Because I am looking at a bargain.
A steal that's too genuine to leave.
And...
What do you think I've discovered?
'A day you found something priceless? '
Is there such a thing...
Of hoping to spend every moment,
With something so priceless...
To wish it is available?
'What can I say?
Your discovery is as good as mine? '
Are you sure you don't want to look around?
'What makes you think I haven't been doing just that?
I was hoping to see those candleholders you purchased,
Last week...
Again.'
So you had your eyes on 'them' too?
'Very much so.
Now I have my eyes on dinner! '
With breakfast?
'And lunch? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bow and Strings
What heavy, dark delirium!
What dim and moonlit heights!
To touch the violin for years
And not to know the strings by light!
Who needs us now? And who lit up
Two hollow, melancholy faces...
And suddenly the bow felt
Someone take them up, unite them.
"How long it's been! Amidst this gloom
Just tell me this: are you still the same?"
The strings caressed the bow,
Rang out, caressed it slightly trembling.
"Is it not true, that we will never more
Be parted. It's enough..."
Yes, replied the violin,
But pain was throbbing in her heart.
The bow discerned it and grew mute,
The echo still continued in the violin...
What was a torture to them both
The people heard as music.
But the violinist didn't snuff
The candles out 'til dawn...The strings sang on...
The sun found them worn out
On the black velvet of their bed.
poem by Innokenty Fedorovich Annensky
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Don't let that horse
Don't let that horse
eat that violin
cried Chagall's mother
But he
kept right on
painting
And became famous
And kept on painting
The Horse With Violin In Mouth
And when he finally finished it
he jumped up upon the horse
and rode away
waving the violin
And then with a low bow gave it
to the first naked nude he ran across
And there were no strings
attached
poem by Lawrence Ferlinghetti
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Deep In The Hole
Ive been enchained
She got shackles on me
That woman to blame
For the hell and misery
Cant find my way outta here
Shoot me down in a burnin fear
Goin down for a stretch of years
Way down below
Chorus:
Im deep in, deep in, deep in the hole
Deep in, deep in, deep in the hole
Im down in, down in, down in the hole
Well Im deep in, deep in
That woman got me deep in the hole
Im sinking down
She got me down on the floor
Cant touch both walls
The further down I go
Pulls the strings on my violin bow
Makes me sing when she fire my load
Aint no slave, but you do what youre told
You sold your soul
Chorus
song performed by by AC-DC
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Bow and the Strings
How dark and heavy’s the delirium’s embrace!
How they’re turbid under moon – the heights!
To have touched Violin for so many years
And not distinguish those Strings in light!
Who craves for us? Who, insolent, has set
In flames two faces, yellow and vexed,
And suddenly the saddened Bow felt
That someone took them and forever merged.
‘How long ago it was – as in a dream –
Tell me trough dark: are you the same one, else?’…
And Strings pressed close, caressing, to him,
Ringing and tossing in their fond caress.
‘Is that all true, that it’s enough, God blessed,
That we shall never ever part again?
And poor Violin replied him always ‘yes’,
Though its heart was sinking in sharp pain.
Bow fell silent, understanding, then,
But poor Violin still echoed its complaint,
And what seemed music to the most men,
To both of them was everlasting pain.
The man didn’t blow, till the night was gone,
The candles … And the Strings were singing, yet…
And they were found, drained of strength, by sun
On the black velvet of the sleepless bed.
Translated by Yevgeny Bonver, January, 2001
poem by Innokenty Fedorovich Annensky
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The Flea
A flea that bit you had bitten me too.
The two bloods mingled for single blood.
The flea’s body is our marriage lobby.
Neither shame nor sin would accrue since than.
Nor would you have grown any weaker too.
By yielding to me and getting my blood
You would shed no grace nor honour either.
You will make me than the flea happier.
Your yielding to me will not do more harm
Than what the flea has done to you, dear.
[the verse of John Donne, The Flea, rewritten]
20.12.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Daily Guide
Daily guide,
A message from a tomato seller;
Daily guide,
A message from a plantain seller;
Nike, like, hike, mike, dike, bike, kike, pike!
And like the muse of sellers at 'Bosoma Market';
But there i met the products that i needed.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Flea Fly
Flea!
Flea fly!
Flea fly flo!
Bee-stay!
A koom-a-lado koom-a-lado koom-a-lado bee-stay!
Oh, no no no, not to bee-stay!
Eenie-minnie ex-a-minnie ex-a-minnie sol-a-minnie
eenie-minnie ex-a-minnie sol-a-minnie so!
Ah, tweep-a-sopa, eep-a-sopa, eep-a-sopa lilly
and a rom-scom-tom and a time-a-yo
Ah tweep-a-sopa- eep-a-sopa, eep-a-sopa lilly
and a lily-o, lily-o, lily-o blow
song performed by by Red Hot Chili Peppers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Violin Love
Violin whisperer
Taming the wild beast
Sounds unearthly
Majestic notes surround
She closed her eyes
Swept away in a rush
Burst of emotion
Tears flowing
She says "Play me
I want to be your violin
Pluck my strings
Make me sing
Run your bow over me"
poem by Paul H Nelson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The pain of silence
Like a little girl i sit waiting
Hoping not to be disappointed
But there again all there is,
Is the pain of silence
The silence is taking over
When that day comes closer
I try to forget and just hope
But still the pain of silence
Now this day i begin to dread
Because i know deep within
Once again all there will be
Is the pain of silence
I try to shut this out
But it haunts me like a shadow in the dark
As i fail to run from the silence
The silence is too hard to bear
And because of it i live in fear
For i do not know what to expect
So i dwell in the pain of silence
poem by Abigail Sikwenda
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Flea Market (Fun Poem 68)
When I was just a little nipper,
I cycled along to see
a flea market on the green.
I parked my bike,
and then sat down in the tall grass.
No one had to me
that they gave away fleas there too.
Therefore, while I was sitting there
one jumped on my ass,
and when I got back to school
and went to park my bike.
The little beggar bit
and I went dancing around
doing the flea-a-me-jig.
I must have looked a sight for sure,
a sight for sore eyes
as I racked my rear end to bits,
jumping around like a bouncing ball.
I either got him,
or he fell of dizzy as hell,
but he never bit me again.
29 February 2008
poem by David Harris
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Without Your Love
Johnny lange / stryker
Without your love
Im like a song without words
Just like a nest without birds
Without your love
Fine sun above
Will never shine at my door
My life holds nothing in store
Without your love
I rode the crest of a wave
With you beside me
Now whos to guide me
Because Im lost at sea
Without your love
Im like a plane without wings
A violin with no strings
Without your love
Ive rode the crest of a wave
With you beside me
Now whos to guide me
Because Im lost at sea
Without your love
Im like a plane without wings
A violin with no strings
Without your love
song performed by by Billie Holiday
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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At a flea market I always head for the junk jewelry table first.
quote by Ethel Merman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I actually picked up copies of Decline I and II at a flea market once. I walked out without paying.
quote by Penelope Spheeris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Contrasting Sounds Of Sunday Morning
rain is pit pattering
on the roof
the wind is as gentle
as a whisper
of a new lover
when the rain stops
the footfalls pass by
the church bell rings
on a call to prayer
the sound of motorcycles
get louder towards the flea market
the cock crows and
jumps to the ground from a tree
here i am
writing another poem for you
it is the sound of silence again
words hugging like a friend's reunion
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Waxed
Waxed old bones,
When deep sleep fall on us all;
And like the pain of a woman at childbirth.
The strife of tongues and the shadow of thieves!
To distinguished between the right and the wrong;
And to delineate inborn differences,
Love itself is something but where lies the truth?
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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You see, I used to do a certain amount of market research by going to the local drugstore and seeing what the truck drivers would put up. Now it's all just copies from the latest best-seller list and damn little of anything else.
quote by Jerry Pournelle
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A tent without a woman is like a violin with no strings.
Love in sale
I just wanted to go in
Deep and to be inhaled
But you thought
I am the air full of poison
When I wanted to exchange
The feel of fragrance
And the taste of smell
You thought
I am the flower, stale
I inhaled deep the whole bottle
Full of that poison air
Tasted the flavour of rejection
Exchanged the smell with that of cliff stones
Suddenly I see princes and merchants
Surround your flower in the seller market
Though I need that to offer to the alter of goddess
But for her still I can not purchase it
As She made me the real poor of the street
poem by Abdul Wahab
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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