You know, it's about getting out there and having a good time. Not about worrying - all these young books for women are like I'm 29 with a closet full of Prada shoes and I can't get a date. Come on.
quote by Aisha Tyler
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Someone Else's Shoes
As I look through my closet of
poetry I realized that many of my
poems are someone else's shoes.
I was never a woman who had one breast
removed. For that’s someone else's shoes.
Nor did I know a man who hung himself
by the laces of his old brown shoes.
Once again that's someone else's shoes.
Neither was I on crack or a little
homeless girl named Suzy Brown.
Those too are someone else's shoes.
Now as I close my closet of poetry
I realize that in order for me to be true
to my art of poetry. I must sometimes
be willing to walk in someone else's shoes.
Old Man So Young
Old man so young
Old tricks, new belt, old bag o’ nails
New shoes, same feet, now going flat
To me, a young man, so full of heart
An old man full of himself, just hisself
Old man so young
Old skin, new cells, old bag o’ bones
New hat, same eyes, now needing sight
To me, a young hero, rising from scarring fights
A rich man full of himself, just hisself
Old man so young
Old voice, new teeth, old bag o’ sand
New hip, same dance, soul in his veins
To me, a young baron, whose time will long reign
An epic full of himself, just hisself
030108
poem by Sylvi Sylva
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Skeletons In The Closet
Woah-oh, woah-oh
Skeletons in my closet
Woah-oh, woah-oh yeah
Skeletons in my closet
Skeletons in my closet
Skeletons in my shoes
Skeletons I can only see
I said woah-oh, woah-oh
I got skeletons in my closet
I said woah-oh, woah-oh yeah
Skeletons in my closet
Skeletons I can lose
Skeletons in my basement
Loitering on my streets
Wearing my best pajamas
Sandwiched between my sheets
I said woah-oh, woah-oh yeah
Skeletons in my closet
I said woah-oh, woah-oh yeah
Skeletons in my closet
Ooh, I see bones
I see bones, icy bones
Ooh, I see bones
Say say bones - say boys don't you see them bones?
Rattle them bones at midnight
Shaking my bed, no sleep
I find fingers in my coat pocket
Skeletons from the deep
I said woah-oh, woah-oh
I got skeletons in my closet
I said woah-oh, woah woah-oh
I got skeletons in my closet
Ooh, I see bones
I see bones, s-see bones
Ooh, I see bones
I see bones
Say boys don't you see them bones?
No?
Heart bones, leg bones, ankle bones, arm bones,
finger bones, dogie bones, head bones
Skeletons in my closet
They even know when I'm in my closet
It's my.. my closet
Not your closet
My closet
You can have it though
Alice we want you
Alice
Alice
A-Alice
What?
Whaddya want
song performed by by Alice Cooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shoes
when you're young
a pair of
female
high-heeled shoes
just sitting
alone
in the closet
can fire your
bones;
when you're old
it's just
a pair of shoes
without
anybody
in them
and
just as
well.
poem by Charles Bukowski
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Toggo
Two young girls,
Sweetness and loveliness;
Two young boys,
Beatness and handsomeness;
Two young men,
Hidden behind the closet;
Tow young women,
Take a trip to learn from my muse;
But be very careful about what you value in this life,
For i am Toggo from afar!
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Closet
In the closet hung her dresses
and her shoes were on the floor.
She would not wear the dresses now
nor the shoes anymore.
He could not give her clothes away.
He smelled them everyday.
In the closet hung her robes
and nightgowns that were sheer.
She would not wear them in the nights,
her nights no longer here.
He could not give them all away.
He fingered them every day.
In the closet he felt close to her
and spoke in whispered word.
'I remember how you looked in these.'
He spoke as if she heard.
'I cannot give your clothes away.
They're all I have of you today.'
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Love-letting
'Woman places corpse of husband in closet.
Linah B-,64, said her husband died
In October 31 in either 1977 or 1978 and she
Put him in a closet because she
Couldn't pay for a proper burial...'
Might've been a good case
For Perry Mason if foul play
Had been suspected, but
The authorities got to the bottom
Of the matter when they
Got the call from the workmen
Painting the house.
Seems there was a little more than
Plaster-of-Paris on a closet floor
Than the woman let on.
One might wonder at the woman's stead
To bear the dead crime,
'No, J- is not home today, '
No one the wiser what lay
In the closet's keep.
It'll probably be the 'in' thing now-
Home Burial.
Little women will squirrel
Their loved ones away-
Where the dead never leave the house.
poem by Edward Steinhardt
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Young Aussie
In the company of women he is not coy or shy
A real macho type is the young Aussie guy
And some young women like him though some young women say
A bit of a boofhead who pushes his way.
He likes to talk cricket with his mates drinking beer
But of God and of religion he does not wish to hear
He does not have a God for to which he can pray
And he is never seen in a church on sunday.
He is a great fan of Aussie Rules Football
To him the one true game and the best game of them all
On friday night he goes to the football and on saturday to the pub
And on sunday evening he drinks in the Sportsman's Club.
The young Aussie bloke he doesn't use words like date
His woman to him she is more of a mate
On saturday night at the disco for five hours or more
He parties and drinks till the small hours of four.
Though much his own man in him there is much good
And the young Aussie he would help you if he could
But don't mention God to him for he will only say
That only the impressionable to the unseen do pray.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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God, is this the world you have created?
1-The minds full of lust
The minds full of lies
2-The world full of darkness
The world full of dirts
3-The world full of people like you like me
Using beautiful words when we need
4-The world full of injustice
Both in West and East
5-The world full of women who have lost their purity
For earning property
6-The world full of hate
In each time, in each date
7-So many racism, so many contempt
So many people who always pretend
8-GOD,
Is this the world you created
9-GOD,
I am sick and tired of living
there haven't been anything interesting
for me on your earth
poem by Nader Baheri
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I've yet to be on a campus where most women weren't worrying about some aspect of combining marriage, children, and a career. I've yet to find one where many men were worrying about the same thing.
quote by Gloria Steinem
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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04. Beautiful Women
young women, old women
in their heart
despite the years
the yearning to be beautiful
young women, old women
they look at each other
one with envy
the other with fear and contempt (of the wrinkles, old age)
young women, old women
they look into each other
one for a mother
the other for a daughter
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mrs Vandebilt
Down in the jungle living in a tent
You dont use money you dont pay rent
You dont ever know the time
But you dont mind
Ho hey ho...
When your light is on the blink
You never think of worrying
Whats the use of worrying?
When your bus has left the stop
Youd better drop your hurrying
Whats the use of hurrying?
Leave me alone mrs vandebilt
Ive got plenty of time of my own
Whats the use of worrying?
Whats the use of hurrying?
Whats the use of anything?
Ho hey ho...
Whats the use of worrying?
Whats the use of hurrying?
Whats the use of anything?
Ho hey ho...
When your pile is one the wane
You dont complain of robbery
Run away dont bother me
Whats the use of worrying?
Whats the use of anything?
Leave me alone mrs washington
Ive done plenty of time on my own
Whats the use of worrying?
Whats the use of hurrying? (no use!)
Whats the use of anything?
Ho hey ho...
song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Magic At My House
In the closet there is a pair of shoes
The stay in the box kind of shoes.
The gray leather open toed high heeled shoes.
The fancy night on the town shoes.
The make you taller shoes.
The makeup wearing time shoes.
The too big but a perfect fit shoes.
The magic make you grown up shoes.
In the jewelry box there is a necklace.
The aquamarine and pearl and gold necklace.
The this is older than you or I necklace.
The shiny rainbow making necklace.
The color and feel of the ocean necklace.
The mother’s mother necklace.
The too nice for any day necklace.
The magic make you an elegant lady necklace.
In the bathroom there is a bag.
The painting for ladies bag.
The filled with vials and potions bag.
The put your face on bag.
The make your lips redder bag.
The give you doe eyes bag.
The not in public until your 16 bag.
The magic make you look beautiful bag.
In the bed there is a woman.
The wears the magic shoes woman.
The keeps the magic necklace woman.
The use the magic bag woman.
The lets me put on the shoes woman.
The tells me the story of the necklace woman.
The wipes off the magic of the bag woman.
The magic I want to be just like her woman.
poem by Gabrielle Shutt
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fat
Walk any street in America, what do you see?
Fat women waddling
Fat men smoking fat cigars
Fat children munching fatburgers
Fat cars with fat tires
Why?
Could it be that someone wants it that way?
“Consumption is the basis of Capitalism”
Fat women go to gyms and read diet books
Fat men do nothing because they don’t mind belly overhang
Fat Children know what tastes good, not what’s good for them
Fat cars consume gas/oil and pollute
It’s time to stop letting FAT run the economy
It’s time to get rid of corporate fat cats
It’s time to get rid of fat politicians
It’s time for everything to slim down…
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Skeletons
(ian hunter/darrel bath/honest john plain)
(transcribed by adrian perkins; corrections by colin ford)
Bimbo, flirts, sluts in skirts - muscles brightly glisten
Conversation's full of filth - let's all have a listen
Oh dear oh dear we live in fear
Media bulbs a poppin'
If you're bent, they're on your scent
There can be no stoppin'
Peroxide blondes, vagabonds, into 'eavy metal
Your hair looks like its been done by a dyke with a score to settle
Mud needs raking, photos taken of your murky past
Haunts you, taunts you, love it don't you
Hey hey the gang's all here
Pimps 'n' pervs, straights 'n' queers
Enquiring minds want to sneer at the skeletons in your closet
Sunday morning in the park,
Down the pub or in the bath
We'll all have a good old laugh
At the skeletons in your closet
Skeletons in your, skeletons in your, skeletons in your closet
Skeletons in your, skeletons in your, skeletons in your closet
It's bloody marvellous - innit?
It's bloody marvellous - innit?
Juicy bits, saucy snips, there's gold in them there gutters
Blue rinse mob on the job, curtains all a-flutter
It's cheapo culture, bleeding ulcers, burnt out by the score
Lurid tales never fails to shock you to the core
Kinky boots 'n' rubbber suits,
It's all going on next door!
Caught you, taught you, love it don't you
If you've had your face re-done
If you spank your girlfriend's bum
We can all join in the fun
At the skeletons in your closet
What's the world coming to?
Ain't we got nothin' better to do?
To spend all day sifting through
The skeletons in your closet
Hey hey the gang's all here
Pimps 'n' pervs, straights 'n' queers
Enquiring minds want to sneer
At the skeletons in your closet
Skeletons in your, skeletons in your, skeletons in your closet
Skeletons in your, skeletons in your, skeletons in your closet
Skeletons in your, skeletons in your, skeletons in your closet
Skeletons in your, skeletons in your, skeletons in your closet
Skeletons in your, skeletons in your, skeletons in your closet
Skeletons in your, skeletons in your, skeletons in your closet
Skeletons in your, skeletons in your, skeletons in your closet
Skeletons in your, skeletons in your, skeletons in your closet
song performed by by Ian Hunter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In 1986 we were trying to help women get in print, stay in print, and come to the attention of booksellers and libraries. At that time, books by men mystery writers were reviewed seven times as often as books by women.
quote by Sara Paretsky
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Aint Got You
By calvin carter
I got a maserati g.t.
With snakeskin upholstery.
I got a charge account at goldblatts,
But I aint got you.
I got a closet full of clothes,
But no matter where it goes,
It keeps a ring in the nose,
But I aint got you.
I got a tavern and a liquor store.
I play the numbers, yeah, four forty-four.
I got a mojo, yeah, dont you know,
Im all dressed up with no place to go.
I got women to the right of me.
I got women to the left of me.
I got women all around me,
But I aint got you.
No, I aint got you.
Third verse
Fourth verse
No I aint got you.
song performed by by Eric Clapton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Young Man Who Refused To Take Off His Shoes
A young man
wandering in the dark
with his heart bleeding
found himself
infront of the house
that was fully lighted.
A woman
who seemed to be
an upright person
opened the door
and pityingly lead the young man
to enter the house
but then stopped him
when she saw the young man entering
with his shoes on his feet.
The woman told the young man
to take off his shoes
but the young man refused
to do so.
'I'm sorry,
I cannot let you in
if you won't take off your shoes
it is my policy
that everyone must take off the shoes
when entering the house.'
But the young man
still refused
so the woman pushed
the young man away
from the door and told him,
'I cannot help you
if you won't follow my policy! '
and the woman shut the door.
The young man
who refused to take off his shoes
back in the dark
wandering
with his heart bleeding
...alone.
poem by Marites C. Cayetano
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Enigma of the closed books [Enigma cărţilor închise]
Immaculate fair pages written by hands on which the humble time has placed
Its everlasting emblems with much haste!
O, thoughts withered in closed books
O, cold deeps opened in paradises with good looks
O, written dreams flowing like brooks!
There are mournful books whose mystic thrills
As light as quills
Garland any dumb disaster
With horizons blue or pale like alabaster,
Inoculating deeply the nightly statues with gestures mirrored
By the lakes full of mystery
And tranquility.
There are books in mourning
Full of tanned longing,
There are books whose chants full of gloom
Wake up and stir the pangs in the royal tomb...
When the doleful rhythm of the ballads without sound
Resurrects, vibrates, contemplates and falls to the ground
Or in the waterfalls around
The pale dreams will retire in nooks.
O, the eerie enigma of the closed books!...
poem by George Topîrceanu, translated by Octavian Cocoş
Submitted by anonym
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Skeletons (In Your Closet)
(ian hunter/darrel bath/honest john plain)
(transcribed by adrian perkins; corrections by colin ford)
Bimbo, flirts, sluts in skirts - muscles brightly glisten
Conversations full of filth - lets all have a listen
Oh dear oh dear we live in fear
Media bulbs a poppin
If youre bent, theyre on your scent
There can be no stoppin
Peroxide blondes, vagabonds, into eavy metal
Your hair looks like its been done by a dyke with a score to settle
Mud needs raking, photos taken of your murky past
Haunts you, taunts you, love it dont you
Hey hey the gangs all here
Pimps n pervs, straights n queers
Enquiring minds want to sneer at the skeletons in your closet
Sunday morning in the park,
Down the pub or in the bath
Well all have a good old laugh
At the skeletons in your closet
Skeletons in your, skeletons in your, skeletons in your closet
Skeletons in your, skeletons in your, skeletons in your closet
Its bloody marvellous - innit?
Its bloody marvellous - innit?
Juicy bits, saucy snips, theres gold in them there gutters
Blue rinse mob on the job, curtains all a-flutter
Its cheapo culture, bleeding ulcers, burnt out by the score
Lurid tales never fails to shock you to the core
Kinky boots n rubbber suits,
Its all going on next door!
Caught you, taught you, love it dont you
If youve had your face re-done
If you spank your girlfriends bum
We can all join in the fun
At the skeletons in your closet
Whats the world coming to?
Aint we got nothin better to do?
To spend all day sifting through
The skeletons in your closet
Hey hey the gangs all here
Pimps n pervs, straights n queers
Enquiring minds want to sneer
At the skeletons in your closet
Skeletons in your, skeletons in your, skeletons in your closet
Skeletons in your, skeletons in your, skeletons in your closet
Skeletons in your, skeletons in your, skeletons in your closet
Skeletons in your, skeletons in your, skeletons in your closet
Skeletons in your, skeletons in your, skeletons in your closet
Skeletons in your, skeletons in your, skeletons in your closet
Skeletons in your, skeletons in your, skeletons in your closet
Skeletons in your, skeletons in your, skeletons in your closet
song performed by by Ian Hunter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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