A house that does not have one warm, comfy chair in it is soulless.
quote by May Sarton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dog Trap
s/he got a new dog &
like many dogs before it,
it shed & it jumped up on the
sofa, the comfy chair in the
living room, etc.-
in regards to the prior dogs in
her/his life, s/he had
"suffered" the hair deposits,
the smell of dog, be it dry or
wet, and the rest of the
litany of petty problems
which dog owners will claim
when going to great lengths
to tame & beat their happy dog
into submission-
one day,
s/he came up with an idea
as to how to get the dog off the
chair & the sofa-
s/he got up early in the morning,
wrapped the chair in a sheet &
then subsequently wrapped that
sheet in electrical tape, masking
tape &
that really sticky gray duct tape,
all with the adhesive side facing up-
after the chair was engulfed in tape,
s/he left the house &
went to work.
low & behold,
when the once-frustrated dog owner
returned to her/his abode that evening,
there was a whimper coming from the
living room-
the dog, a shaggy dog whose resemblance
to a frayed towel
was uncanny,
had gotten itself stuck on the tape &
the pulling of its hair in the attempt to escape
the tape-engulfed chair,
was too much for the poor dog,
who had been undergoing the pain for
who knows how long-
the satisfied owner
talked conceitedly to the dog,
asking it what the problem was
(as if the poor dog had any idea what
this horrible human was babbling) &
then got down on her/his knees to
help the dog from the trap that had
worked out just the way the owner
suspected that it would,
because the dog never set foot on the
chair or the sofa again.
poem by Andrew Delapruch
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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A House Is Not A Home
(burt bacharach / hal david)
A chair is still a chair
Even though theres no-one sitting there
But a chair is not a house
And a house is not a home
When theres no-one there to hold you tight
And no-one there you can kiss goodnight
A room is still a room
Even though theres nothing there but gloom
But a room is not a house
And a house is not a home
When the two of us are far apart
And one of us has a broken heart
Now and then I call your name
And suddenly your voice appears
But its just a crazy game
When it ends, it ends in tears
Darling, have a heart
Dont let one mistake keep us apart
Im not meant to live alone
Turn this house into a home
When I climb the stairs
And turn the key
Oh, please be there
Still in love with me
Im not meant to live alone
Turn this house into a home
When I climb the stairs
And turn the key
Oh, please be there
Still in love with me
song performed by by Dusty Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You don't even have to leave your house: you do your work from your house; you can order anything you want from your house; you don't have to leave your chair. Everything's been designed so that you never leave your computer chair.
quote by Deryck Whibley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Things I Miss The Most
I don't mind the quiet
Or the lonely nights
I don't miss the funky attitudes
And I don't miss the fights
I lie on the couch 'til suppertime
And hunker down and read the Post
And that's when I remember the things I miss the most:
The talk
The sex
Somebody to trust
The Audi TT
The house on the Vineyard
The house on the Gulf Coast
These are the things I miss the most
I kinda like frying up
My sad cuisine
Getting in bed and curling up with a girlie magazine
Sometimes in the corner of my eye
I see that adorable ghost
And then ba-boom I remember the things I miss the most
The talk
The sex
Somebody to trust
The comfy Eames chair
The good copper pans
The '54 Strat
These are the things I miss the most
I had a little birdy friend
By morning she was gone
Birdie good-bye
Birdie bye bye
I'm learning how to meditate
So far so good
I'm building the Andrea Doria out of balsa wood
The days really don't last forever
But it's getting pretty damn close
And that's when I remember the things I miss the most
The talk
The sex
Somebody to trust
The Audi TT
The house on the Vineyard
The house on the Gulf Coast
These are the things I miss the most
song performed by by Steely Dan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The 'Memo Pause
I went into the other room
and stood still at the door
forgetting oh so double quick
what I'd gone there for!
I went back to my comfy chair
and scratched my itchy chin,
remembering what I'd forgot,
too spent to go back in!
poem by Ruth Walters
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Cogitation
if this chair does not exist
will i, this, chair, me, who asks,
if this chair, exists at all,
can i, exist, too? will i be dependent
on the thought of a chair
a thought of me that i think i
can touch, that i think thoughts
touching this thought of a chair
does the chair think about me,
i ask, looking for that therefore
beside the chair that i thought
is a chair, that i thought is I,
am, therefore, a chair, thinking
chair, on four feet?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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How It All Began
So we settled it all when the storm was done
As comfy as comfy could be;
And I was to wait in the barn, my dears,
Because I was only three.
And Teddy would run to the rainbow's foot
Because he was five and a man--
And that's how it all began, my dears,
And that's how it all began!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Weather Watch
Sky's all funky, dark and cloudy,
thunderstormy weather brewin'.
Deep insidey, house all warmy,
coffee 'n cakes're what I'm doin'.
Don't be runnin' 'round outsidey,
windy, rainy, get all wetty.
Hair all tangly, shoes all soaky,
face paint runnin', not so pretty.
Stay insidey from the weather,
in your beddy, comfy cozy.
Snuggle tightly, all caressy,
warm and happy 'round your toesies.
poem by John W. Fox
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A Chair Is No Longer Just A Chair
it is your experience that
gives you more meaning to all those which
you think
have been too common and
insignificant,
perhaps
now you must have realized as you sit upon a chair
that someone used to sit there
and that someone waited for another to be with her
that on the same chair
there were some fears
and pains and even longings
and hopes
unrealized and by then
you see that chair not just a chair
you sit there
and you ask it
for this chair though muted by wood
will always have
a story to tell....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Christmas Memories
Written by randy albright, john grenebaum & becky hobbs
Theres a blanket of snow coverin up the old road to the house where I was
Raised
Through the window I see the lights on the tree and a glow from the old
Fireplace
Though it all looks the same so much as changed from the way it used to be
Christmas memories of happy years gone by
They come back to me and keep me warm inside
Still those christmas memories make me cry
Now the stockings are filled; the house is still and the kids are dreamin away
Theres that old easy chair, me and daddy sat there waitin for santas sleigh
Now daddys gone but we carry on cause the little ones will need...
Christmas memories of happy years gone by
They come back to me and keep me warm inside
Oh they mean so much to me
Those christmas memories make me cry
song performed by by Alabama
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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July 1 2009***Giving His Boots a Rest
He is resting
In a comfortable Library chair
With his boots and jacket on
His backpack is nearby
He's reading today's paper
And has three plastic covered
Magazines stacked on the floor
To read next
He's in from the cold and rain
He's in where it's warm and dry
He's been to the men's room to
Wash himself and his socks and shorts
Wrapped in a plastic bag
He'll dry them later
Now he's trying to get his boots to dry
They're damp and well worn
They are not worn out
Just like him
They are well worn
They've covered many miles
He's worked in them
He's slept in them
To keep warm and to see
That they are not stolen
Where do you put your shoes at night?
Under you bed? In your closet?
It's been a long time
Since he's had either
How do you
Keep your feet from freezing
In the long hard-frost winter nights?
How do you keep warm?
If you'd never had to worry
You wouldn't appreciate
The warm dry Library chair
That gives his boots a rest
poem by Tom J. Mariani
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This 'n' That 'n' Those
Milton Pascal / Edgar Fairchild
These are nights below
And that's the moon above
And those are eyes that say you're mine
Why can't we combine these'n that'n those
These are moments rare
And that's the comfy chair
And those are lips that should be kissed
How can we resist these'n that'n those
Holding conversation is no recreation
And we have so much more to do
I'd be disrespectful
If I were neglectful
Of all that nature gave to you
These two hearts are bold
And that's a hand to hold
And those two arms have room to spare
Where we both can share these'n that'n those
song performed by by Billie Holiday
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Life In Symbols
Who died?
Someone
has or will?
Unless I let the fantail
symbol of death
fluttering around flying
within this
room
in this house
out through the
open doorway to
freedom to life.
Who died?
Is it my place
to restore life
or preserve
life or
reestablish
quality life?
Too many soulless
echo minds
are cast away lost upon
material dreams
ever remaining soulless.
Input equals output.
Hate breeds hate.
Love breeds love.
Prosperity
Peace
Restoration.
Eventual
Enlightenment
Individualized.
Unive rsal
Harmony
Beckons.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Upon a Chair Not Reserved for Me
to sit in a chair
not reserved for me
is disgrace
at the utmost
to poetry,
in truth
the house on the clouds
and winds
and seas
a life dedicated to the
flitting moon
does not have
a chair
neither a feet
nor root
of hair...
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Patty’s Mother Earth Coffee House
With happy smile and calming effect,
Patty at Mother Earth Coffee House is humble yet.
She always has a listening ear, she is honest, she is sincere.
No other coffee house is quite like hers,
for it has a warm heart, like Mother Earth.
Patty’s Mother Earth coffee house is quite unique,
it has a Earthly feel with gypsy mystic.
In the year 2007, Jim my friend who came along with me
visited Les Beans at the time and met warm hearted Patty.
I was once on stage with Razel at Patty’s place,
She’s a puppet with 2 evil eyes on her pale felt face.
Even Razel knows Patty’s coffee café,
is for connecting with people- having Fun all in one day.
Zoey the cat is a regular on cushy chair, sleeping, you can still pet her cat hair.
Patty has open mics with singers, with a Friday comedy night.
Performers feel comfortable on stage for Mother Earth has soothing light.
With colorful parrot and paintings on the wall,
even the bathroom is cozy, perfect not too small.
So when you are in the city of Lake Worth,
Please visit Patty at her coffee house Mother Earth.
Written by Suzae Chevalier on October 5,2011
www.puppetpoems.com
poem by Christina Sunrise
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Chair Don't make the Man
People see me in this chair and whisper look at that poor man over there. They believe my life is wasted all because I’m in this chair. Well I got some to say that I want you all to hear. Just like clothes don’t really make a man neither does a chair. The chair is just what I use to get me for here to there. Just like people who walk use their legs to get them everywhere. Because besides the chair I’m just like you; I laugh, I cry and yes I have sex too. Now that you all know the next time you see me don’t whisper look at that poor man over there. In fact don’t say anything just remember the chair don’t make the man.
The Empty Chair
an empty chair
that none will take..
A man in jail
for Freedom’s sake.
The honor of a Nobel prize
was viewed by China as offense-
They boycotted the Oslo fete
in honor of their dissident.
His wife is under house arrest
He is in his prison cell.
Why is China so afraid
Of what the prisoner might tell?
An empty chair
An unheard speech
A man imprisoned
For years, not weeks
An empty chair
An unheard plea
From one who’d rather
breathe air that’s free.
poem by John F. McCullagh
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Reach Out
I reach my hand out for you
But you're not here anymore
I ask an empty chair for advice
Because thats where you once were
I get no reply of course
But old habits die hard
Tears start to well up
I quickly wipe them away
I have to be strong for your mate
She depends on me so
I a 15 year old am the only one she can trust
I have to clean the big house
I have to dust
I work all day and all night
To keep my grades up
And to keep the house clean
Where is my break
I get none
Where is the person I can depend on
He's gone
He died
I'm all alone
Where is my break
Where are my friends
I have lost so many
I reach my hand out
I call to the empty chair
Then I break down and cry
poem by Rachel Dowd
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