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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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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Under the Sunset Sky
Sitting under the sunset sky
Laying around I wonder why
You value me so much more
Than any other you’ve met before
Why you feel so safe by me
And no the others that you see
Sitting under the sunset sky
I find comfort and I sigh
Knowing all is well by you
Having peace in all I do
Watching my troubles fall away
Not wanting then back any day
Sitting under the sunset sky
When you’re sad I want to cry
Feeling you’re sorrow, hurt and pain
When it’s done, all for gain
Drawing away from the past
What’s done is done and shouldn’t last
Sitting under the sunset sky
Only thing to do is deny
The comfort found when we’re alone
Feelings around us never shown
If only to live for how we feel
Soon this love would we seal
Sitting under the sunset sky
Longing for you by and by
Can’t get you off my mind
All the reasons trying to find
Thinking so hard never to know
Why you might care for me so
Sitting under the sunset sky
Hoping you won’t chose another guy
To be the one, to live the life
That good men live, without strife
To be with you is my goal
Are you the match for my soul?
Sitting under the sunset sky
To be with you when I die
Would be the best of any dream
Looking around, you see me beam
I’ve found the one out of all
Now it’s done, this task not small
poem by Brian Potthast
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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As The Sunset
As the sunset I think to myself why.
As the sunset I sit down and cry.
Wondering why life got to be a lie.
As the sunset I dropp my head.
As the sunset I think about you instead.
How can I go home and get in my bed.
As the sunset I say no.
As the sunset I just don't know.
My love that I have for u just wont go.
As the sunset I look to the sky.
As the sunset I wait to die.
Tell me how to say good-bye.
As the sunset I say a prayer.
As the sunset how can I dare.
I'm giving up, I just don't care.
Sitting by the window watching the sun to set.
Knowing I'm going to see you again,
and you coming back home at the end.
By: Brittany Smith
9/25/08
poem by Brittany Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Watching For Pa
Three little forms in the twilight gray,
Searching the shadows across the way;
Two pair of black eyes, and one of blue --
Brimful of love, and of mischief too;
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Sitting by the window,
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Sitting by the window,
Watching for Pa!
May, with her placid and thoughtful brow,
Beaming with kindness and love just now;
Willie the youngest, in anguish did lay,
Stealing sly kisses from sister May,
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Sitting by the window,
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Sitting by the window,
Watching for Pa!
Nellie, with ringlets of sunny hue,
Cosily nested between the two;
Pressing her cheeks to the window pane,
Wishing the absent one home again.
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Sitting by the window,
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Sitting by the window,
Watching for Pa!
Now there are shouts from the window seat;
There is a patter of childish feet;
Gaily they rush through the lighted hall --
"Coming at last" is the joyful call.
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Standing on the doorstep,
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Standing on the doorstep,
Watching for Pa!
poem by Henry Clay Work
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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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Worrying is like sitting in a rocking chair. It gives you something to do but it doesn't get you anywhere.
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
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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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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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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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Beach Chairs
Sitting on the beach chairs
watching the setting sun
holding hands and reminiscing
how it all begun
Sitting on the beach chairs
watching the ships out on the sea
holding hands and smiling
together we're meant to be
Sitting on the beach chairs
watching people walking past
holding hands and knowing
that our love will always last
Sitting on the beach chairs
watching the waves along the shore
holding hands we realize
our love is stronger than before
Sitting on the beach chairs
watching the changing tide
holding hands with happiness
to be by each others side
Sitting on the beach chairs
watching the sunrise
holding hands with tears of joy
there are no more good-byes
poem by Joyce Ebrecht
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You Weren't Supposed to Go
You weren't,
supposed to go...
You were supposed to stay,
and watch mom's new baby grow.
To watch,
your grandchildren graduate...
To counsel us,
when everything goes wrong on a date.
To cheer us on,
through school...
To talk to us,
when our tempers need cooled.
To watch us,
get married...
To see your first great grandchild,
and hold it lovingly.
To make sure we don't stray,
from the right path...
To help us keep,
up with our math.
It wasn't suppposed,
to be this way...
You were supposed to be here,
for all these events and God took you away.
We will still envision you,
sitting there watching...
tears of joy in your eyes, a smile on your face,
your memory forever remaining.
poem by Cally A. Nixon
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Sunset Dream
During this afternoon
I saw you
sitting in a chair
near the sea
And i see your face
your eyes
Your smile
your hands
your body
every part of you
is expecting me
This afternoon
you make me prove
every feeling
i wanna be with you
you open your arms
to take me in an infinity embrace
In this beautiful sunset
i realize that
I love you no matter what
that you are the light
that makes me dream
in this sunset time.
poem by Elida Cumani
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Are We Having Fun Yet
(wade hayes/chick rains/lonnie wilson)
I walked out tonight on the woman I love
We got in a fight and I said Ive had enough
I slammed the door and I headed
For a place I used to go
For a taste of freedom with some
Friends I used to know
They had the jukebox rockin
The music turned up loud
I thought Id fit right back with my old
Party crowd
Now I cant remember what
I came to find
Ive been here all night with
Just one question on my mind
Are you having fun yet
Right now its hard to tell
My head dont feel that good
This heartache hurts like hell
I think I mighta made a big mistake
If this is good as the good times get
Im down to my last dime
Its closing time
Are we having fun yet
Ill be shes watching tv now
In my favorite chair
While I ride this barstool
Wishing I was there
In my wildest dreams
This aint how its supposed to end
Sitting here and missing her and
Asking my old friends
Are you having fun yet
Right now its hard to tell
My head dont feel that good
This heartache hurts like hell
I think I mighta made a big mistake
If this is good as the good times get
Im down to my last dime
Its closing time
Are we having fun yet
song performed by by Wade Hayes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Are We Having Fun Yet
(wade hayes/chick rains/lonnie wilson)
I walked out tonight on the woman I love
We got in a fight and I said Ive had enough
I slammed the door and I headed
For a place I used to go
For a taste of freedom with some
Friends I used to know
They had the jukebox rockin
The music turned up loud
I thought Id fit right back with my old
Party crowd
Now I cant remember what
I came to find
Ive been here all night with
Just one question on my mind
Are you having fun yet
Right now its hard to tell
My head dont feel that good
This heartache hurts like hell
I think I mighta made a big mistake
If this is good as the good times get
Im down to my last dime
Its closing time
Are we having fun yet
Ill be shes watching tv now
In my favorite chair
While I ride this barstool
Wishing I was there
In my wildest dreams
This aint how its supposed to end
Sitting here and missing her and
Asking my old friends
Are you having fun yet
Right now its hard to tell
My head dont feel that good
This heartache hurts like hell
I think I mighta made a big mistake
If this is good as the good times get
Im down to my last dime
Its closing time
Are we having fun yet
song performed by by Wade Hayes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sitting On The Veranda
Sitting on the veranda
watching the world go on its way.
The sun is out and the sky is blue,
you can see forever
as you rest back in your chair
with not a worry in the world to bother you.
Just sitting on the veranda
watching the world go on its way.
A gentle breeze rustles the leaves
that is in front of you,
a gentle breeze to ease
the weariest of souls
as you sit and relax on the veranda
leaving the rest of the world
a million miles away.
21 September 2008
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Gambler
the gambler one day
while sitting on a chair facing the sea watching the sunset
looks at the poet
like him alone on a worship of the fading day
wondering what was it that keeps
digging inside his heart
the gambler starts a conversation telling the poet that he envies his
solitude
his grace with the use of the words
his beauty and his
journey along the paths of
the spiritual and
the divine communion with God
the poet is not amazed and takes a simple gaze
at the gambler's face
he give the gamble a little smile
telling him
nothing.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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