Worrying is like sitting in a rocking chair. It gives you something to do but it doesn't get you anywhere.
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An Old Rocking Chair
An old rocking chair
stands on the porch.
Many times I sit there
watching people go on their way.
Occasionally one or two
will stop and talk about the day.
We’ll sit and rock,
chatting about the weather
and about kids and home.
All the time
the old rocking chair
rocks back and forth
with me sitting there.
6 March 2008
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Worrying is like a rocking chair, it gives you something to do, but it gets you nowhere.
quote by Glenn Turner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Me And My Old Cat Sam
I sit here all alone well
Me and my old cat Sam
Rocking back and fro
As my
Chair squeaks
As I rock
In front of the old fireplace
Just me and my old cat
Sam
Knitting mittens
Singing while my cat sam takes
A nap
I’m growing old
Still alone
Me and my old cat Sam and my
Old rocking chair
As the fireplace is cracking while
The
Red blue flames seem to cracker
And pop
As it
Burn so happily it seem's
My chair squeaks my cat nod as I
Rock
In my rocking chair back and fro
Cheerfully in front of my old
Fireplace
With red and blue flames highlighting
The wall and ceilings
Me and my old cat Sam as he nod’s
I rock back and fro
While my rocking chair squeaks along
With the fireplace cracker and
Popping..
poem by Carolyn Sears
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Grandpas Rocking Chair for M lady Chitra
On the front porch a rocking chair
nobody uses no one dare
Nor dare they move it anywhere.
Grandpa decreed it must stay there
What grandpa said was what he meant
he left no room for argument.
He simply stated his intent
Though other folk felt different
When Grandpa died the family tried
to set his iron rule aside
You’ll rue this day their Grandma cried
Your Grandpa will not be defied.
They moved the chair to show they could
though grandma did not think they should
She warned them all that nothing good
would come of this. She understood
although she knew Grandpa was dead.
She knew he’d rise in wrathful pride
to reinforce what he has said.
His last command before he died.
The chair was moved despite her pleas.
Her warnings were not listened to.
From that day on they knew no peace
Til grandma told them what to do
The rocking chair must be restored
to where Grandpa said it should be.
They all agreed of one accord
the chair replaced immediately.
Sometimes at night it seems to be
moving gently slowly rocking
Although there’s nothing they can see
they know that Grandpas visiting.
To see his word is still obeyed.
That no one moves his rocking chair.
Nobody will they’re too afraid.
They know sometimes he still sits there.
27-Oct-08
http: // blog.myspace.com/poetic piers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hell, I'm an old man. I'm 70 years old. I'm supposed to be sitting on a rocking chair watching the sunset.
quote by M. Emmet Walsh
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Rocking-Chair
When I am old and worse for wear
I want to buy a rocking-chair,
And set it on a porch where shine
The stars of morning-glory vine;
With just beyond, a gleam of grass,
A shady street where people pass;
And some who come with time to spare,
To yarn beside my rocking-chair.
Then I will light my corn-cob pipe
And dose and dream and rarely gripe.
My morning paper on my knee
I won't allow to worry me.
For if I know the latest news
Is bad,--to read it I'll refuse,
Since I have always tried to see
The side of life that clicks with glee.
And looking back with days nigh done,
I feel I've had a heap of fun.
Of course I guess that more or less
It's you yourself make happiness
And if your needs are small and few,
Like me you may be happy too:
And end up with a hope, a prayer,
A chuckle in a rocking-chair.
poem by Robert William Service
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It Doesn't Seem It But Believe
It doesn't seem it but believe,
The time has flown so fast.
It doesn't seem it but believe,
The time has flown so fast.
One minute we are wiping a nose.
And the next second...
It seems,
We're now all old.
It doesn't seem that the time has flown away so fast.
It doesn't seem it but believe the time has flown so fast.
It doesn't seem it but believe the time has flown so fast.
Was it yesterday we said hello,
To the one we wanted to do that...good rock and roll.
It doesn't seem that the time has flown away so fast.
It doesn't seem it,
But believe...
The time has flown so fast.
It doesn't seem it,
But believe...
Some thoughts we have we should let pass.
You cain't change a game played when it's over.
Nor can you redefine a lover who has gone to another.
Yes as cruel as it can be,
To see a time we lived to see flee fast.
From a rocking seat!
Yes as cruel as it can be,
To see a time we lived to see flee fast.
It doesn't seem it but believe it that the time has flown so fast
From a rocking seat!
You cain't change a game played when it's over.
Nor can you redefine a lover who has gone to another.
It doesn't seem that the time has flown away so fast.
From a rocking seat!
It doesn't seem that the time has flown away so fast.
It doesn't seem it,
But believe...
The time has flown so fast.
From a rocking seat!
It doesn't seem it,
But believe...
Some thoughts we should have let go pass.
From a rocking seat!
And there we sit by a window looking older.
With plans to feed a cat,
At the back door.
Who meows for leftovers.
It doesn't seem that the time has flown away so fast.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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When I'm 80 and sitting in a rocking chair listening to the Rolling Stones, there is absolutely no way I'm going to feel old or forget my younger days.
quote by Patty Duke
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sisotowbell Lane
Sisotowbell lane
Noah is fixing the pump in the rain
He brings us no shame
We always knew that he always knew
Up over the hill
Jovial neighbors come down when they will
With stories to tell
Sometimes they do
Yes sometimes we do
We have a rocking chair
Each of us rocks his share
Eating muffin buns and berries
By the steamy kitchen window
Sometimes we do
Our tongues turn blue
Sisotowbell lane
Anywhere else now would seem very strange
The seasons are changing
Everyday in everyway
Sometimes it is spring
Sometimes it is not anything
A poet can sing
Sometimes we try
Yes we always try
We have a rocking chair
Somedays we rock and stare
At the woodlands and the grasslands and the badlands cross the river
Sometimes we do
We like the view
Sisotowbell lane
Go to the city youll come back again
To wade thru the grain
You always do
Yes we always do
Come back to the stars
Sweet well water and pickling jars
Well lend you the car
We always do
Yes sometimes we do
We have a rocking chair
Someone is always there
Rocking rhythms while theyre waiting with the candle in the window
Sometimes we do
We wait for you
song performed by by Joni Mitchell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Marital Agonies
she sits on a rocking chair
but she is not rocking it
her eyes stare at the sea without
a horizon
she spreads her legs looking
for a spot to
rest her toes,
he is out there looking at the sunset
his shadow is consumed
by darkness
he comes home
opens the PC and begins to write some poems
mostly about
funerals
unlike before
there were lots of sunrises everywhere as though
mornings are the only
seasons
he pauses, he hears the rocking of the chair.
the TV is off
he cannot find the letters to form the words.
he stares at the monitor
he is silent.
there is no break in this monotonous sound of silence.
he wishes he were a stone.
she wishes she is a bird.
one refuses to grow further.
the other wants to fly away, no matter where.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Rocking Bonnie
Bonnie and me in the rocking chair
Hours go by and we don't care
Time can come and go as it may
We'd sit in the chair and rock all day
Pachelbel Canon on the stereo
In time we rock back to and fro
The rocking chair making a creakedy squeak
Dreamy sounds that put her to sleep
She's in a heap across my chest
Comfy and cozy, peaceful, at rest
I kiss the top of her head and her hair
She smells like roses petals wafting on air
More time passes, she's still asleep
Laundry and dishes will have to keep
As soon as I stop she frets a bit
I'll just wear the rocker legs off of it
What's more important than times like these?
Before you know it, the years will flee
Well, time can come and go as it may
We'll sit in the chair and rock all day
Written by Sara Fielder © 2000
NOTE: This poem was written when my daughter Bonnie was a newborn.
poem by Sara Fielder
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Goodby Mass
Sitting on a hard chair try to sit straight
Sitting on a hard chair this moment won't wait
Listening to the speakers they're talking about you
Look at all the people all the people you know
Sitting with my back straight it becomes hard to hear
Some people are crying it becomes hard to hear
I don't think you'd have liked it you would have made a joke
You would have made it easier you'd say "tomorrow I'm smoke"
Sitting on a hard chair how far we have come
Trying hard to listen to your friends who have come
Some of them are famous and some are just like me
Trying hard to listen trying hard to see
Sitting in a hard chair it's over time to stand
Some people are crying I turn to grab your hand
It's your daughter saying thank you
You, you would have made a joke
"Isn't this something," you say, "tomorrow I'm smoke
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Goodby Mass - In A Chapel Bodily Termination
Sitting on a hard chair try to sit straight
Sitting on a hard chair this moment wont wait
Listening to the speakers theyre talking about you
Look at all the people all the people you knew
Sitting with my back straight it becomes hard to hear
Some people are crying it becomes hard to hear
I dont think youd have liked it you would have made a joke
You would have made it easier youd say tomorrow Im smoke
Sitting on a hard chair how far we have come
Trying hard to listen to your friends who have come
Some of them are famous and some are just like me
Trying hard to listen trying hard to see
Sitting in a hard chair its over time to stand
Some people are crying I turn to grab your hand
Its your daughter saying thank you, you, you would have made a joke
Isnt this something, you say, tomorrow Im smoke
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Vissions From My Window
Pollution, death and dispair
vissions from my window, sitting on my chair
Endless disease surrounds our air
vissions from my window, sitting on my chair
Every minute gone by, worser conditions
many believe, they are solved with petitions
Lesser accolades, for a job well done
hospitality fading, generosity gone
Tensions growing, can be cut with a knife
education failing, changing our life
Brung on by people who do not care
brung on by people who wont play fair
Vissions from my window, sitting on my chair.
poem by White Tiger
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Heaven's Rocking Chair
Are there rocking chairs in Heaven
where little babies go?
Do the angels hold you closely
and rock you to and fro?
Do they talk silly baby talk
to get a smile or two,
and sing the sleepy lullabies
I used to sing to you?
My heart is aching for you,
my angel child so dear.
You brought such joy into my life,
the short time you were here.
I know you're in a happy place,
and in God's loving care.
I dream each night I'm rocking you
in Heaven's rocking chair.
poem by Ron Tranmer
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Jim Jim
jim jim
your ever so prim
sitting there in your chair
making fun as you do
wondering what next to do
jim jim
you're a fun friend
thank you for being there
evn thow your just sitting there
jim jim
your ever so prim
just sitting there inont know
your chair
whats next you ask to do
oh i dont know
lets have a brew
maybe then you can tell me all
whats going on
oh lets have a ball
jim jim
your fun to know
you make me laugh
did you know
jim jim your ever so prim.
for my friend jim mcElderry...(x-factor winners dad) ...the end
poem by Christina McIntosh
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a picture of roger Y.
he falls asleep
rocking himself on
a molave
chair
he is the model
of life in
old exhaustion
his mouth is open
the wind enters freely
his hands on the arm
of a chair
his feet on the marble
railing of the
veranda of the house
hard and cold.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Little Joys
little joys like
sipping tea and
taking a bite of
chocolate bar
and letting it
melt in your
mouth or
simply sitting
on a rocking
chair staring
at the blue horizon
at the beach
or tracing this
mosquito landing
on your arm and
crushing it with
your palm
you take it
for a clear examination
a broken wing
stained with your
own blood
these joys
vis-a-vis
a huge void
behind you
infront of you
and all around you
you are not
anymore intimidated
i'm sure.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Going West
He sits in his rocking chair,
his dreams cemented in the past.
He wishes he had been a pioneer
packing up everything
and travelling west to start again afresh.
That is for the young men,
but he is an old man who thinks
things like that cannot be done now.
He is too old to start again.
He never tried it when he was young,
now time has passed
and all he can do is rock to and fro.
Wishing he had done it then.
Someone once told him
a long, long time ago
that nothing was impossible.
He smiled at the suggestion,
now he wonders of its validity.
Standing up he takes a deep breath
of the air around him
and coughs a little bit.
He smiles to himself, he is going to do it.
He is going west to the sunset,
the place where all his dream lay awaiting for him.
He will do it tomorrow,
then he sits back in his rocking chair
and thinks of all the beauty there he will find.
25 January 2009
poem by David Harris
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The Thinker
Of all the men I ever knew
The tinkingest was Uncle Jim;
If there were any chores to do
We couldn't figure much on him.
He'd have a thinking job on hand,
And on the rocking-chair he'd sit,
And think and think to beat the band,
And snap his galusus and spit.
We kids regarded him with awe -
His beard browned by tobacco stains,
His hayseed had of faded straw
The covered such a bunch of brains.
When some big problem claimed his mind
He'd wrestle with it for a fall;
But some solution he would find,
To be on hand for supper call.
A mute, inglorious Einstein he,
A rocking-chair philosopher;
I often wondered what, maybe,
His mighty meditations were.
No weighty work he left behind,
No words of wisdom or of wit;
Yet how I see him in my mind
Snap on his galusus and spit.
poem by Robert William Service
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