Doubts are like stains on a shirt. I like shirts with stains, because when I'm given a shirt that's too clean, one that's completely white, I immediately start having doubts.
quote by Antonio Tabucchi
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Yes You May Paint My World
be ready
paint my world
be patient
it is not as white
as a canvass
to start with
i am spotted
like gerard manley hopkins
with his cow
and this trout
i have some
red marks on
my heart and
some stains
in my brains
i am dark
and you will need
nothing black
paint me
with the color
of gentleness
and the color
of your concern
i am not really
lovable but
you may paint
me with the colors
of your love
if you have doubts
don't worry
make something
abstract about me
i won't bother
i am your brother
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Essence of a Stain
Some people are always obsessed
with washing out stains
ashamed of what the stand for
but what do stains truly stand for?
Stains show a part of our character
- what is a tattoo
other than a bodily stain
revealing a small part
of our inner character
to the outside world
even stains can be seen in a positive light
poem by Gregory Allen Uhan
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Give Me Back My Shirt
You stole my shirt again
The one with stains
Beneath my armpits
You lied and said
The shirt somehow fell
Into your suitcase
A dark black shadow
That hurled itself off a cliff
And landed inside your
Sad blonde soul
And when you sleep alone at night
In the naked stretch of your wine-soaked skin
Do you smell my harsh manly aroma
In the pillow of your theft?
Do you wet yourself in the taste of
The baby felons we might make?
Do you imagine yourself wearing
My body
Upon the sharp thrusts of my
Contempt
And
Love?
For a liar, a thief, a fetishist for
Fabric
That revives memories
Of lust long faded
You stole my shirt again
The one that has faint traces
Of your drool, in the way you
Drip yourself upon me
In the hot slumber of your
Babbling incoherent dreams
Give me back my shirt
It was a present from my sister
Who rarely bought me anything
Except for a blue cotton candy
Vivid blue
Like your icy sullen eyes
In the childhood
Of my lonely
Indelible
Lament
poem by Catman Cohen
Submitted by anonym
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The rain is gone
You got wet clothes to dry
A face to wipe some droplets of rain
Some stains
On your breasts
Kissing stains
Some bluish marks
On your thighs
You always say
These things, stains and bluing
Happen
Because of the rain
The rain that refuses to leave at once
And you are caught to his embrace
You always say the rain
Is responsible, one season to blame
Why these things, these stains cling to your body
The thoughts of rain
Leaving
Saddens you now
How you wish the rain comes back
The stains caused by him smells and
The scent of sweat makes you sway, gives
You the feeling of
Stay, I love you, stay, do not go away.
Wonder, how the rain could have removed
The stains, smell, sweat, but you say
The rain causes it, he cannot leave you
He still has the fear of getting rainy wet.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Tom Hanks Likes UniCandle unicorn
UniCandle unicorn horn glitters real bright,
on t-shirts that glows deep in the night.
T-shirts outside on display,
at carnival on Easter Sunday.
Customers walk by,
but one customer in particular caught my eye.
It was Tom Hanks who did decide,
to buy one UniCandle t-shirt with a price that’s right.
Then Tom turned and said to me,
“UniCandle unicorn is cute and unique.”
Then he left wearing the shirt that glows,
out of dreamland where anything goes.
Written by Suzae Chevalier on September 1,2011
poem by Christina Sunrise
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In this respect I expressed my doubts about using the Corps directly on the South coast, to form a bridgehead for the Army - as the area immediately behind the coast was now covered with obstacles. These doubts were accepted by Hitler.
quote by Kurt Student
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shrinking
Have you ever had that feeling
you are growing,
or is it your clothes are shrinking?
You know when your trouser bottoms
start creeping up to your knees,
or your shirt sleeves
start climbing up to your elbows,
or your waistline begins to grow,
but your belt hangs loose,
or your chest is expanding
because the buttons keep popping of your shirt.
Oh yea, I know that feeling ever so well
as it happens to me all the time
just after my wife does the washing.
She follows the instructions to the letter,
but still they begin to shrink.
Nothing is unshrinkable when she goes to wash,
except once.
There always has to be one exception.
I had a nice towelin shirt
and when she had finished with it,
the shirt touched my knees
and looked like I was wearing a skirt.
Here I am six foot three,
yet my clothes will fit someone three feet three
and a lot thinner than me.
Now I am at my wits end wondering just what to do.
It feels like playing Russian roulette
when the next wash begins.
31 January 2011
poem by David Harris
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You Look Good In My Shirt
When you walked up behind me and covered my eyes
And whispered in my ear, guess who
I rattled off names like I really didnt know
But all along I knew it was you
And, the longer we talked, the more we laughed
And wondered why we didnt last
It had been a long time, but later last night
Baby, we caught up real fast
And maybe its a little too early
To know if this is gonna work
All I know is youre sure looking
Good in my shirt
Thats right
You look good in my shirt
Well now Im not saying that we solved overnight
Every way that we went wrong
Oh, but what Im seeing Id sure love seeing
Every morning from now on
And maybe its a little too early
To know if this is gonna work
All I know is youre sure looking
Good in my shirt
Cmon now
Aww thats right
Oh you look so fine
And maybe its a little too early
To know if this is gonna work
All I know is youre sure looking
Good in my shirt
And maybe its a little too early
To know if this is gonna work
All I know is youre sure looking
Good in my shirt
You look good in my shirt
You look good in my shirt
song performed by by Keith Urban
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Shirt
The buttonholes were empty.
The buttons had all let go.
The shirt was now a remnant,
one he did outgrow.
The sleeves were short so he rolled them.
The plaid material was faded.
Now it was getting much too tight
as he saw his name brocaded.
The name was what she called him,
'Sonny, sonny boy.'
Her voice came back when he wore it.
It was a sound of joy.
He would have to give up wearing it
and pray that she would know
that no other shirt he'd ever wear
were what her hands did sew.
Mom. dear mom you come alive
everytime I see that shirt.
It helps me when I'm missing you.
It takes away the hurt.
Every other shirt that I have worn
could never quite replace
the feeling I get when I see it
for I see your loving face.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Honey Mooner
There was a silky assault
by a gray cloud over the sickle moon
and I went crazy.
Moon said I will come again
for the glittering makeup
when the curtain are drawn.
Indelible tattoos on my breast
will haunt you whole night.
You must suck the stars meanwhile.
Come March, I will shower the
blue stains on your shirt.
It will remind you the number of nights
you slept with me.
poem by Satish Verma
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Tuck Your Shirt In
My name is Holly
And I like
I'm so glad that you asked me out tonight
Our conversation over dinner was really nice
But don't forget you still owe me dessert
It's 12 we missed the late show
So let's head over to this joint that I know
Everytime I take someone it's always such a ride
But there's a dress code
You've got to follow
There's no exceptions
And once you're in
If you want TMA
You better need to be
Oh baby
But before you enter
Tuck your shirt in
No way you'll get rid of
Other clothes
If you don't follow this
One moment
Tuck your shirt in
La la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la
We're probably gonna need to call a cab
Ten minute walk over there and back
But I think it's best we
Save our energy
Tonight I'm really on the grind
Otherwise I'd normally wait a while
Before I'd ask
Somebody to my party
But there's a dress code
You've got to follow
There's no exceptions
And once you're in
If you want TMA
You better need to be
Oh baby
But before you enter
Tuck your shirt in
No way you'll get rid of
Other clothes
If you don't follow this
One moment
Tuck your shirt in
La la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la
But there's a dress code
You've got to follow
There's no exceptions
And once you're in
If you want TMA
You better need to be
Oh baby
But before you enter
Tuck your shirt in
No way you'll get rid of
Other clothes
If you don't follow this
One moment
Tuck your shirt in
TMA
You better need to be
Oh baby
But before you enter
Tuck your shirt in
No way you'll get rid of
Other clothes
If you don't follow this
One moment
Tuck your shirt in
La la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la
song performed by by Holly Valance from Footprints
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Loving Is The Only Heaven
You pad across
the white tile floor
almost animal
your beauty
something only you
could tame
I have to raise my arm against it
as you come out of the sun
wearing only my white silk shirt
blown gracefully
against your curves
the shirt billowing behind you
as if
you were an angel
with folded wings
each step
a thing of wonder
lost in thought
as if you had taken – a wrong turning
& seemed surprised to be
here
stranded
kissing this human
who seems to know
that loving
is the only Heaven.
poem by Dónall Dempsey
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No Shoes, No Shirt, No Problem
I've been up to my neck workin 6 days a week
wearin holes into the shoes on my feet
been dreamin of gettin away since i dont know
Aint no better time than now..for mexico
No shoes, No shirt, No problems
Blues what blues..hey i forgot them
The sun and the sand and a drink in my hand with no bottom
and no shirt, no shirt, and no problems!
No problems
Want a towel on a chair in the sand by the sea
want to look thru my shades and see you there with me
Want to soak up life for a while
In laid back mode
No boss, no polite, no stress, no dress code
No shoes, no shirt, no problems
Blues what blues hey i forgot them
The sun and the sand and a drink in my hand with no bottom
and no shoes, no shirt, and no problems
Babe lets get packed..tank tops and flip flops if u got them
No shoes, no shirt, no problems
No problems
song performed by by Kenny Chesney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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No Shoes, No Shirt, No Problems
Ive been up to my neck workin 6 days a week
Wearin holes into the shoes on my feet
Been dreamin of gettin away since I dont know
Aint no better time than now..for mexico
No shoes, no shirt, no problems
Blues what blues..hey I forgot them
The sun and the sand and a drink in my hand with no bottom
And no shirt, no shirt, and no problems!
No problems
Want a towel on a chair in the sand by the sea
Want to look thru my shades and see you there with me
Want to soak up life for a while
In laid back mode
No boss, no polite, no stress, no dress code
No shoes, no shirt, no problems
Blues what blues hey I forgot them
The sun and the sand and a drink in my hand with no bottom
And no shoes, no shirt, and no problems
Babe lets get packed..tank tops and flip flops if u got them
No shoes, no shirt, no problems
No problems.
song performed by by Kenny Chesney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Childhood....
that brown sweat shirt
from elder sister
during my 6th birthday,
i remember
the weather was too cold
and fogs hang on the
mountainside
like lots of doubts on my
forehead
i remember there was a heavy
rain and strong wind
and big waves from the sea
and there was no light
because
electricity was expensive
and father could not
afford it.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ignorance has no doubts
Doubts crop up to the priest
In what he learns for preaching.
Doubts crop up to the astrologer
In what he learns for foretelling.
Both take care to put aside the doubts
And preach the rest as if a tested truth.
The mass is kept in ignorance
So that the heads run their profession.
19.04.2001, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Bleeding Rose
red streaks run along the
edges of the white petals
like the ones that run down her arms
trickling slowly down the stem
and to the floor
like the tears she sheds every
second of the day
the red stains upon the
leaves unwashed
the red stains upon her fingers
untouched
red stained carpet and
red stained cloths
a jacket worn at all times
a black jacket covering the scars
red puddles left behind
and a Bleeding Rose
poem by Chessney Ferguson
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A Warning To A Closure
it is not that we desire to change
a stone into a vine
you always complain that the stone in you
is silent and heavy
there is no laser to perform such work
of transubstantiation
i do not have that power to go inside your gene
and cut some stairs of DNA molecules
what we need is just an hour of compromise
a little sacrifice here and there
like some stains in your shirt which we can
remove later in the washroom
but you do not have that hour or you simply
refuse to see us sacrificing too
we do have common enemies
but you do not belong to us now
soon we will also close the door against you
and when it is shut
you are on your own too
alone to all of those who do not have mercy
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A toothbrush rush
Could I try to
Save self, save us, save the world?
Let's take one soft tooth brush
and start to clean own heart
of every dark spot,
or rust stain
or the mischievous thought
before it comes to be
a putrid mould.
Brush kindly
for rebel stains
that out comes not
in tears soak.
Put more energy,
one gram of salt
and bit more energy
rub well to truly clean
until becomes pristine.
Then go to those near by
with new tooth brushes
as humble gift
and teach them, show
how you have cleaned
own soul.
Then together
take more brushes
and start to clean some more
maybe the biggest dirt of world,
own violent mind, let the clean be done
kindly, by a homely toothbrush.
Then with a peaceful heart
Done to the people of entire earth
from the pit to the top
once brushed, gurgle
and also rinse the big mouth
We can then start
with all the other
things around
Hard to select
But let's start first
To get rid of our biggest s...t
Lets make the world as well as we,
...nuclear...
Free.
Peacefully, with patience
let's give our earth clean
Love.
poem by Elena Sandu
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Wearing A Shirt
It is better to wear a shirt to protect your happiness,
The wearing of an item of clothing like this one is immense.
We stagger and wait more than others, wearing shirts and trousers,
Still this happened a long time ago, once when the sea opened.
The land was for joyous fuelling, readying with swords and weapons,
By the way, it was clothing on the way home.
It was bitter so much like sour fruit, inside was a yearning,
Too late was the bereavement of a shirt.
The immense puzzle was solved on the way home,
A vehicle stuns us amazingly in the worst possible touch.
poem by Naveed Akram
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