The curious defiled past him, after squeezing the Presidential fingers into the room, and settled either on the sofa or chairs or remained standing for protracted observations.
quote by Henry Villard
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Perfect Circle
Put your hair back, we get to leave
Eleven gallows on your sleeve
Shallow figure, winners paid
Eleven shadows way out of place
Standing too soon, shoulders high in the room
Standing too soon, shoulders high in the room
Standing too soon, shoulders high in the room
Pull your dress on and stay real close
Who might leave you where I left off?
A perfect circle of acquaintances and friends
Drink another, coin a phrase
Heaven assumed, shoulders high in the room
Heaven assumed, shoulders high in the room
Heaven assumed, shoulders high in the room
Try to win and suit your needs
Speak out sometimes but try to win
Standing too soon, shoulders high in the room
Standing too soon, shoulders high in the room
Standing too soon, shoulders high in the room
Standing too soon, shoulders high in the room
Standing too soon, shoulders high in the room
song performed by by REM
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Red Sofa
The thick red sofa,
Anf of the laughter and joy that it brings in the name of love;
But this had been our place always,
And to warm ourselves from the cold of winter!
The thick red sofa,
This was our place of love and everything!
Both in the hot and the cold weathers to swing with the muse of love,
For this red sofa is all that we have in the room.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Blue Room, The
We'll have a blue room
A new room for two room
Where ev'ry day's a holiday
Because you're married to me.
Not like a ballroom
A small room, A hall room
Where I can smoke my pipe away
With your wee head upon my knee.
We will thrive on, keep alive on
Just nothing but kisses
With Mister and Missus
On little blue chairs.
You sew your trousseau
And Robinson Crusoe
Is not so far from worldly cares
As our blue room far away upstairs
song performed by by Ella Fitzgerald
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
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September Rain
September Rain (sonnet)
Most days, on my way to the bar or grocery shop,
I walk past an old man who sits in the shade of
an oak, on a creaky sofa that has lost its place in
the lounge. I usually stop and talk to him, he can’t
remember me from one day to the next, tells me
the same story about his parents, and where he
grew up; Portugal of yore. He isn’t here today, only
the mantle, he wraps around himself when there
is a chill in the air, is flung on the old sofa; a zephyr
whispers that he will not be back. “Will I be that old?
I ask the waning sun. I sit on a sofa on the terrace,
a blanket wrapped around my shoulders, scan the sky,
in the vale where I live and my parents too lived,
we wait for September rain.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Everybody knows they're on the Obama team: There isn't vice presidential vs. presidential division, there's not a generational pull. People have internalized that this is a real moment in history.
quote by Rahm Emanuel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Curious
Straight as a dye
On us we rely
Yet watch how my head is turning
Distracting my eye
Its no reflection on you, yet who would believe me
Troubled by the thought of it, I cant deny
That Im curious, never meant to hurt you
Just curious, I cant deny
That Im curious, never have decieved you
Just curious, I cannot lie
Give me a reason
Ill hide my delight
Shamelessly Ill seize the moment
Just my needs in sight
Its no reflection on you, yet who would believe me
Troubled by the thought of it, I cant deny
That Im curious, never meant to hurt you
Just curious, I cant deny
That Im curious, never have decieved you
Just curious, I cannot lie
Its no reflection on you, yet who would believe me
Troubled by the thought of it, I cant deny
That Im curious, never meant to hurt you
Just curious, I cant deny
That Im curious, never have decieved you
Just curious, I cannot lie
song performed by by Olive
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Standing near the door, we dipped our fingers in the holy water, crossed and blessed ourselves, and proceeded up to the sleeping-room, in the usual order, two by two.
quote by Maria Monk
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Chance
I have hear the
night song
when wind blow
what fantacy
bringing flown
nonage dream
what is the no time reached
because squeezing
squeezing
chance.
poem by Prasetya Utama
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The cost of congressional and presidential campaigns has been leaping every two or four years. I think this year it will be 60 percent more than 1996; well over twice as much as in 1992 in the presidential and congressional races.
quote by Robert McChesney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In Trying To Look For The Words
i am trying to look for the words
like looking for flowers in the garden
but there are not any anymore
in this season of rain
when sunshine is becoming slim
and hideous
when the mind is becoming tedious
about what to spell
and sing
there are lesser elements there
the usual sands
which we always equate with time slipping away from the fingers
the timid pebbles that do not ask anymore
the meaning of silence
too tired for the constancy
too mindless about
what happens everyday
in trying to look for something else
one finds
stupor as a burden at the back of the head
shunning light
evading vibrancy of thoughts and memories
retouching the blackness and whiteness of the past
killing time
and resting one's head on the sofa
with the tv on
past midnight.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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There Shall Be No Blank Space Of This Jalousy
she broke a piece
of the window, a plank of glass
and the cat gets in at night
and sleeps on my favorite sofa
i never like this
i don't like a blank space where a cat slips in
and takes a portion of my sofa
this is strictly prohibited in my world
today the plank of glass is delivered
and there is no emptiness left along the lines of this
space
where the wind is free to
to get in and then move out like nothing happened
between the cat and the sofa.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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If you find your friend on the sofa at home with your wife, you had better sell the sofa.
Of Three Or Four In The Room
Out of three or four in the room
One is always standing at the window.
Forced to see the injustice amongst the thorns,
The fires on the hills.
And people who left whole
Are brought home in the evening, like small change.
Out of three or four in the room
One is always standing at the window.
Hair dark above his thoughts.
Behind him, the words, wandering, without luggage,
Hearts without provision, prophecies without water
Big stones put there
Standing, closed like letters
With no addresses; and no one to receive them.
poem by Yehuda Amichai
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They are still my kin
I didn’t go to him for any favour;
He remained my friend.
I didn’t do with him any business;
He remained my cousin.
I didn’t have with him any common roof;
He remained my brother.
I didn’t keep to her my eyes wide open;
She remained my wife.
I didn’t get from them any allowance;
They remained my children.
It is as good as they are none to me;
With the God’s grace I could keep them as mine.
19.09.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Let Us Dance The Tinikling Then
the one without
the bamboo poles
the one
where we hum the music
of the tinikling
in your room
just the two of us
me without my pants on
you without your
inhibitions on
me without my shame on
you without your
second thoughts
me without my regrets
you without your future
me without my past
let us dance then
the tinikling
just the two of us
inside your
scattered room
let it be dark
let it be a dancing
with our eyes closed
with our fingers
crazy with our hands
open
with our hearts
stripped
(0r ripped off)
away from us
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Settle The Question Right
However the battle is ended,
Though proudly the victor comes,
With flaunting flags and neighing nags
And echoing roll of drums;
Still truth proclaims this motto
In letters of living light,
No question is ever settled
Until it is settled right.
Though the heel of the strong oppressor
May grind the weak in the dust,
And the voices of fame with one acclaim
May call him great and just;
Let those who applaud take warning
And keep this motto in sight,
No question is ever settled
Until it is settled right.
Let those who have failed take courage,
Though the enemy seem to have won;
If he be in the wrong, though his ranks are strong,
The battle is not yet done.
For sure as the morning follows
The darkest hour of night,
No question is ever settled
Until it is settled right.
O men, bowed down with labour,
O women, young yet old,
O heart, oppressed in the toiler’s breast
And crushed by the power of gold,
Keep on with your weary battle
Against triumphant might;
No question is ever settled
Until it is settled right.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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An Inspiration
However the battle is ended,
Though proudly the victor comes
With fluttering flags and prancing nags
And echoing roll of drums.
Still truth proclaims this motto,
In letters of living light, -
No Question is ever settled,
Until it is settled right.
Though the heel of the strong oppressor
May grind the weak to dust,
And the voices of fame with one acclaim
May call him great and just,
Let those who applaud take warning,
And keep this motto in sight, -
No question is ever settled
Until it is settled right.
Let those who have failed take courage;
Tho' the enemy seems to have won,
Tho' his ranks are strong, if he be in the wrong
The battle is not yet done;
For, as sure as the morning follows
The darkest hour of the night,
No question is ever settled
Until it is settled right.
O man bowed down with labor!
O woman, young, yet old!
O heart oppressed in the toiler's breast
And crushed by the power of gold!
Keep on with your weary battle
Against triumphant might;
No question is ever settled
Until it is settled right.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Sitting On My Sofa
All alone, sitting on my sofa,
Oh, oh, oh, sitting on my sofa,
Sipping at my soda,
Sitting on my sofa.
All alone, sitting on my sofa,
Oh, oh, oh, sitting on my sofa,
Sipping at my soda,
Sitting on my sofa.
You got all your friends,
I got a tv set.
You got your cars,
And this boys never had anything.
Now Im stuck here, sitting on my sofa,
Oh, oh, oh, sitting on my sofa,
Sipping at my soda,
Sitting on my sofa.
You got all your friends,
I got a tv set.
You got your cars,
And this boys never had anything.
Now Im stuck here, sitting on my sofa,
All alone, sitting on my sofa,
Sipping at my soda,
Sitting on my sofa.
Oh, oh, oh, sitting on my sofa,
Oh...
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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How Grey The World Was
How grey the world was with its memories,
How dark even this gay room where the motes run!
How black these curtains, thick with murder cries,
These chairs, this floor with things slain in the sun!
'Twas here I strangled love, a year ago,
And hid it 'neath these pillows drenched in blood,
As a mad mother her sweet babe of woe,
Too strong to die, too fair, which shrieks aloud.
How black and bare and bitter the world was
Just yesterday! To--day, this room, dear Heaven,
What laughters fill it! what light footsteps pass!
See, the white chairs dance round me pleasure--driven,
And these sad pillows, where I wept, blab out
The news that you are here, in psalm and shout!
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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