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Empty Old Houses
Empty Old Houses
Empty old houses can talk…
But one must know how to listen…
to hear them
Empty old houses have stories…
But one must be eager to listen…
to hear them
Empty old houses can suffer..
But one must have empathy …
To feel it
Empty old houses can feel pain
But one must be able to bear it …
To feel it
Empty old houses have memories
But one must believe … that they have…
To share them
Empty old houses contain people’s lives
But one must believe…that they do…
To share them
Empty old houses can seem dead and deserted
But one must know that they’re not..
To know them
Empty old houses can teem with life’s pleasures
But one must walk through
to sense the aura of life
Empty old houses abound in life’s treasures
But one cannot help but…
To admire them
poem by David Whalen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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We are victims of evil customs. It is a crime against humanity that our women are shut up within the four walls of the houses as prisoners. There is no sanction anywhere for the deplorable condition in which our women have to live.
quote by Muhammad Ali Jinnah
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Laws and customs may be creative of vice; and should be therefore perpetually under process of observation and correction: but laws and customs cannot be creative of virtue: they may encourage and help to preserve it; but they cannot originate it.
quote by Harriet Martineau
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Comin Into Los Angeles
Coming in from london from over the pole
Flying in a big airliner
Chicken flying everywhere around the plane
Could we ever feel much finer
Coming into los angeles
Bringing in a couple of keys
Dont touch my bags if you please
Mister customs man, man
Theres a guy with a ticket to mexico
Could he ever look much stranger
Walking in the hall with his things and all
Smiling, said he was the lone ranger
Coming into los angeles,
Bringing in a couple of keys
Dont touch my bags if you please
Mister customs man, man
Hip woman walking on a moving floor
Tripping on the escalator
Theres a man in the line, and shes blowing his mind
Thinking that hes already made her
Coming into los angeles,
Bringing in a couple of keys
Dont touch my bags if you please
Mister customs man, man
Coming into los angeles,
Bringing in a couple of keys
Dont touch my bags if you please
Mister customs man, man
Coming into los angeles,
Bringing in a couple of keys
Dont touch my bags if you please
Mister customs man, man
song performed by by America
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shimshon
To have thirty sons and thirty daughters from your many wives,
Like the customs of a bride;
To have forty sons and thirty grandsons in your life,
Like the customs of a bridegroom;
But, out of love came something so sweet.
Yo are barren but now you will conceive and bear a son,
Like the dreadlocks of Shimshon!
But my best friend had taken my wife away.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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The Anonymous Altruist
A mysterious cove in the Customs
The boss, so to speak, of the Ban
I have blamed a good deal;
But I wronged him, I feel,
Since I've come to imagine the man.
When he censored some book that I wanted
I sneered at him once, I'll allow;
But, since I've given heed
To the life he must lead,
He has all my sympathy now.
This mysterious cove at the Customs
Is clearly a martyr; that's sure.
On his shoulders he takes
Loads of sin for our sakes,
And he suffers to keep us all pure.
For he reads all the hot stuff imported
And never once threatens to strike,
Tho' he loathes it, no doubt.
Ah, my pity goes out
To him. Think what his mind must be like!
This anonymous cove at the Customs,
This storehouse for horrible stuff,
Is as venal, I'll bet,
As the rest of us, yet,
Does he whine that his job is too tough?
No. He keeps his identity secret,
His knowledge safe under his hat;
And he lurks all alone,
Unsuspected, unknown,
Such as the hangmen and heroes like that.
This incredible cove at the Customs,
His duties are drastic and grim;
For, if human he be,
What is poison to me
Must be equally poison to him.
Yet, undaunted he seizes and scoffs it,
And perhaps throws a fit on the floor,
Doped with all the impure
Of the world's literature.
But he manfully comes up for more.
This untouchable cove at the Customs,
He sneaks to his work in the dawn
And, in some secret lair
Reads the spicy bits there,
With his soul, as it were, all in pawn.
Pity, then, this official absorber
Of rank Rabelaisian lore
Who wallows in sin
To protect us, his kin.
Could an altruist ever do more?
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Bomb Blast
BOMB BLAST
Man is a social animal,
But where remains the social customs,
Only he has become animal,
And much more than animal,
No animal kills another,
Man is blasting all customs and rituals,
By killing innocent weaponless persons,
Man has progressed so much,
That he is controlled by remote control,
There are only blasts and blasts
And no humanity
poem by Dr. Ram Sharma
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I've always been fascinated by numbers. Before I was seventeen years old, I had lived in twenty-one different houses. In my mind, each of those houses had a number.
quote by Robert Indiana
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We believe the 36, nearly 40, billion pound discount given for a right to buy houses took a million houses out of the public housing sector which is desperately needed for rent.
quote by John Prescott
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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White Houses
Crashed on the floor when i moved in
This little bungalow with some strange new friends
Stayed up too late, and I'm too thin
We promise each other it's till the end
Now we're spinning empty bottles, it's the fives of us
With pretty-eyed boys girls die to trust
I can't resist the day oh no i can't resist the day
And Jenny screams out and it's no pose
'Cause when she dances she goes and goes
Beer through the nose on an inside joke
And I'm so excited I haven't spoken
And she's so pretty and she's so sure
Maybe I'm more clever than a girl like her
The summer's all in bloom
The summer's ending soon
It's all right
And it's nice not to be so alone
But I hold on to secrets in white houses
Maybe I'm a little bit over my head
I come undone at the things he said
He's so funny in his bright red shirt
we were all in love and we all got hurt
I sneak into his car's cracked leather seat
The smell of gasoline in the summer heat
Boy we're going way too fast
It's all too sweet to last...
It's alright and i put myself in his hands
but i hold on to secrets in White Houses
Love or something ignites in my veins
and i pray it never fades in white houses
My first time
Hard to explain
Rush of blood, oh
And a little bit of pain
On a cloudy day
It's more common than you think
He's my first mistake
Maybe you were all faster than me
We gave each other up so easily
These silly little wounds will never mend
I feel so far from where I've been
So I go and I will not be back here again
I'm gone as the day is fading on white houses
I lie, put my injuries all in the dust
In my heart is the 5 of us in white houses
And you, maybe you'll remember me
What I gave is yours to keep
In white houses
In white houses
In white houses.
song performed by by Vanessa Carlton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Animals' Houses
Of animals' houses
Two sorts are found -
Those which are square ones
And those which are round.
Square is a hen-house,
A kennel, a sty:
Cows have square houses
And so have I.
A snail's shell is curly,
A bird's nest round;
Rabbits have twisty burrows
Underground.
But the fish in the bowl
And the fish at sea -
Their houses are round
As a house can be.
James Reeves
poem by George Redgrave
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No architect troubled to design houses that suited people who were to live in them, because that would have meant building a whole range of different houses. It was far cheaper and, above all, timesaving to make them identical.
quote by Michael Ende
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Customs Of The East
Fields of love and fields of peace,
Where are your lovers who left you last night? !
For they have now left you with the customs of the east,
But i am now ready to teach you people about the truth.
The customs of the east have blinded you people,
And your lovers could not stay because of an errand;
But i am now ready to teach you people about the truth.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Nose
No one cares for the nose
To go nose straight is the tao
If there were no eyes
You could see better with your nose
If there were no nose
you wouldnot distinguish the sweet from the bitter
And there would be no value judgements in the world
And it is the nose that keeps you hot in the cold
And that keeps you cold in Jakodabad
The nose is the vigilant customs officer
That does not allow any drug to your lungs
And the nose cannot be bribed
Oh Nose! the customs officer of the body
And the pivot of value judgement in the world
If that name thou love
Remain with us and teach the noseless world
That it must have a nose in this wartorn world
He who knows the greatness of nose
Surely goes to the realm of rose
In the life to come
Hurrah Let us compose hymns to nose
poem by Dr. Ramesh Chandra Mukhopadhyaya
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A Village With Many Houses
his heart is like the sky
with many birds flying inside it
his heart is like the village
with many houses around it
the sky is as white as snow
the birds are so blue
the houses with no one
they are all empty
for quite long deserted
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I don't like people who take drugs... Customs men for example.
quote by Mick Miller
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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