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You Need The Smoke Around
Honey combs from the trees!
Honey combs from the mountains!
Honey combs from the valleys!
Climbing up and down to get them;
But, you need the smoke around to lead you on.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Face Of Guilt...
he looks at himself intently like
he were a stranger,
trying to find out how time, they say,
distorts the personal truths in each of us,
his face is square, used to be, but it looks like
a triangle now, tip extended like a boat on sail,
his lips from reddish cherry have turned into
gray, heavy clouds,
his beard has grown into a forest attracting
monkeys and birds, and so is his hair unwed to chaos
before but lives with such a confused mistress,
his eyelids droop heavy with problems,
his eyelashes do not have the waves of the pacific,
his chin the arrow before has become the
bow,
he looks at his eyes with veins like craters of the moon,
and asks: why did he ever do such a mess?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Heavy Heart
Heavy heart think of yesterday
And you're torn apart
Thinking of the ways it was easier to smile
More than today love grew wild
Heavy heart like a perfect stranger
You make it hard
Taking all the blame - still you hear the sound
Calling your name - troubles coming down
Too heavy
Turn it around
It's pressing me down
Heavy heart
This time I find
It weighs on my mind
Heavy heart
It's just like you to take it all so far
Then you feel abused and wonder who you are
Everything you've done - anything you start
Can turn and run
Ain't it true - it's only just a stage
Gotta give it room - start an empty page
Get back in the game - but do it your way
You don't have to play so heavy
Turn it around
It's pressing me down
Heavy heart
This time I find
It weighs on my mind
Heavy heart
When your heart is strong it leads you on
But when it breaks you
It devastates you for so long
Turn it around
It's pressing me down
Heavy heart
This time I find
It weighs on my mind
Heavy heart
Turn it around
It's pressing me down
Heavy heart
This time I find
It weighs on my mind
Heavy heart
song performed by by Heart from Passion Works
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Grandma
Knots and tangles in my hair,
grandma sitting on her chair,
me in front on a stool so low,
brushes and combs all in a row.
Grandma would wash it every day,
Saying 'We do this first, then you play.'
Waiting for the feel of every pull,
this became our ritual.
I anticipated every tug.
When we finished we would hug.
But before I'd leave she'd make a bow,
all different colors she'd use to show
that my hair was something she loved to see.
It was long and shiny black, like ebony.
I treasure her looks and the moments spent,
the combs, the brushes and her looks of content.
My grandma made me feel like a queen,
like the prettiest thing she'd ever seen.
Now as my hair is turning gray
I remember the words she used to say,
'Sit down dolly and I'll comb your hair.'
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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But you have to understand, my beard is so nasty. I mean, it's the only beard in the history of Western civilization that makes Bob Dylan's beard look good.
quote by Bill Walton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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[intro]
Yo, my name is Taquell A.K.A Baby Poppa
Told ya I know ali
Yall thought I was playin
I told yall I know the Lunatics
Leezy, Nelly, Spud, Murph AND Kyjuan man
I know all of em since '99
Before Country Grammar before the Free City album
And now, Big Lee got that Heavy Starch out in the streets
It's over fo' real
Now next time Baby Poppa tell you somethin
You better listen
So keep your ears open cuz it's Ali
Heavy Starch let's go
Yo, Ali, Heavy Starch
Heavy Starch
Heavy Starch
Say it again
Heavy Starch
Do it like we do Heavy Starch Big Lee
Big Leezy fo sheezie with Heavy Starcheezy
What's up Ali
Hey Ali Heavy Starch
Peace to Ali comin from Son keepin it real, luv
Yo what's up Ali
Shouts out to Big Lee yea
Ali
Heavy Starch
What's up Ali
Heavy Starch
Big Leezy with the Heavy Starch
What's crack-a-lackin Heavy Starch
Heavy Starch
What's up Ali
Heavy Starch
Hi Ali Heavy Starch
Heavy Starch Big Lee
Big Lee Heavy Starch, Heavy Heavy Heavy Starch hahaha one luv
Right on Ali Right on Heavy Starch
Ali Heavy Starch, whatever you do dirty, keep it St. Louis
song performed by by Eels
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Broken Dreams...
i watch him when he
arrives home, bringing his
baby
armalite and a pack of
dirty clothes and a notebook
(is he listing those that owe
him or those
that he plans to see
again
after 20 years of having to
spend his life
among the natives
in the far away
mountains?)
he leaves his boots
at the doorway
combs his hair
and wipes his sweat
still clinging
to his long beard
(with white
locks)
he looks for mother
(specifically now the available
matter is only the picture
for she had long been
dead
missing him
the void within her heart)
'mother had long
been gone', sister told him,
he heaves a sigh
and breathes some more
i suspect he
may cry, but i know, i know
as he is, and really is,
he couldn't
there are other reasons
for tears to fall
not this one, not this one.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Shaved
He had wore a beard every since his early teens.
It had been at least thirty years since anyone saw him without it.
For those thirty years he felt he had something to hide.
But yesterday he shaved and freed himself from the thirty year mask he had been wearing.
He said it feels good to no longer have that itchy heavy beard weighing him down.
Yesterday he shaved when he finally told everyone he is gay.
A Boy Or A Man?
When does a boy become a man?
Only when he understands
that who he is has never changed.
His priorities are just rearranged.
He still likes to play
but he works all day.
He looks at girls
but in a different way.
When he fears for his life
he learns how to pray.
When he combs his hair
he sees some gray.
When he debates, then listens
then has his say.
When flirtaceous circumstances
won't lead him astray.
When he's not ashamed to cry
or ashamed to say
I'm sorry.
Then what we have is a boy that's a man.
The boy's still there, but man does what he can
to restrain him.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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August Day
(words by sara allen
Music by daryl hall)
I saw the sun, though it didnt shine
Gave up no shadows, gave out no way to know the time
No wind to blow the silver leaves
The drone of clever talk just stopped
The air hangs out, hesitates to carry a thought
Away from me
And the sky colored heavy gray
August day
Stir the dust and carve a rhyme
Barefoot blues watch and wait till suppertime
Will a smile break through
Distant thunder and the slow dance
Static lightning sky daring me to take a chance
And say that I love you
And the sky colored heavy gray
August day
song performed by by Hall & Oates
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Seldom, very seldom, does complete truth belong to any human disclosure; seldom can it happen that something is not a little disguised, or a little mistaken.
Jane Austen in Emma
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A man combs his hair every morning -- why not his heart?
A Smile Against Gray Rainy Clouds
Against the gray of glooms doom
Thy waxen countenance with smiles loom
A contrast to the murky gray
Thy face shines like a diamond in day
A tinge of a beautiful element
Infuses gold by the filament
Thy tawny eyes filled with treasure
Bring more joy than gold's bought pleasure
Under the darken clouds of tainted sight
Thy face limpid as crystallite
A morsel of magic thy animate
Light and love thy consummate
O! If gray days did imitate
There would be no need to precipitate
Tears of gray with no day
For our hearts to heavy weigh
So smile our tears away
And in thine light let us play.
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Afraid To Love
So seldom does she think of love
and seldom does she want to.
It isn't that she's cold or bad,
it's that she cannot hold you.
If she were to allow herself
to hunger for your kiss,
her heart would be like jelly
and many beats would miss.
So seldom she allows herself
this pleasure and this pain
for she would surely die for love
and cannot take the strain.
If you would promise faithfully
to be her true, true friend.
To comfort her and cherish her
and be there at her end.
But life is such a fickle beast
and even though she cares.
She cannot, no she dare not
offer love and be ensnared.
poem by Ruth Walters
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bigot
Hey! A lot of things I have seen
Without reason I have not grown
My beard long and gray
Do not utter the word ‘'love ‘'
As you have not yet conquered ‘hate ‘
As I have felt your gruesome wrath
When I do not believe in your faith
You are still an immature swine, a bigot
As I have seen your love falls like a cascade
On a ‘hoor ‘of different religion of opposite sex.
Many a time the earth has revolved the sun
And the wind has blown long away
So my beard has become long and grey
Your hate for me and your love for your faith
All are brutally stampeded and entered into the hole of sex.
‘Hoor ‘ means most beautiful woman or most hand some man
poem by Abdul Wahab
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In Pictures
Ive got her photograph on a stand by my bed
Two on the mantle and thousands in my head
I cant believe how fast shes growing
It aint supposed to be like this
Everytime I look at her I see how much Ive missed
I missed her first steps her first words and I love you daddy
Is something Ive seldom heard
Oh it hurts me so to watch my girl grow up in pictures
I send the money down do my best to do my part
But it cant compare with what Ive paid with my heart
Theres still one unanswered question that weighs heavy on my mind
Will she ever understand the reasons why
I missed her first steps and her first words and I love you daddy
Is something Ive seldom heard
Oh it hurts me so to watch my girl grow up in pictures
It takes all I have to keep the tears inside
And what I wouldnt give if I could turn back time
I missed her first steps her first words and I love you daddy
Is something Ive seldom heard
Oh it hurts me so to watch my baby grow up in pictures
song performed by by Alabama
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Song from Heine
MY heart, my heart is heavy,
Though merrily blooms the May;
Out on the ancient bastion,
Under the lindens I stay.
There stands by yon gray old tower,
The sentry-house of the town;
A red clad peasant soldier
Goes pacing up and down.
He toys with his shining musket,
That gleams in the sunset red,
Presenting and shouldering arms now,—
I wish he would shoot me dead!
poem by Emma Lazarus
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Women Washing Their Hair
They have painted and sung
the women washing their hair,
and the plaits and strands in the sun,
and the golden combs
and the combs of elephant tusks
and the combs of buffalo horn and hoof.
The sun has been good to women,
drying their heads of hair
as they stooped and shook their shoulders
and framed their faces with copper
and framed their eyes with dusk or chestnut.
The rain has been good to women.
If the rain should forget,
if the rain left off for a year—
the heads of women would wither,
the copper, the dusk and chestnuts, go.
They have painted and sung
the women washing their hair—
reckon the sun and rain in, too.
poem by Carl Sandburg
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My individual handsome God
I like to smile as you
But it's a cry
And I try to cry like you
Oh! It's a smile
And your curly gray beard
I love to grow on my pointed chin
But not that particular color.
At last I realized
You are a God!
And I am a Man.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Heavy heart
My heart is heavy.
My heart is sagging.
My heart is staining.
And my heart is breaking.
It's shattered to a million peices.
Depression has reared it's ugly head.
In to my life it has sped.
Like a heavy weighted lead.
It wont leave my head.
My heart is torn in two.
I never asked for this
poem by Amy Louise Kerswell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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