A visit to a cinema is a little outing in itself. It breaks the monotony of an afternoon or evening; it gives a change from the surroundings of home, however pleasant.
quote by Ivor Novello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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An Afternoon Poem Is Rare
AN AFTERNOON POEM IS RARE
An Afternoon Poem is rare-
Afternoon is long after the first light-
Afternoon is a time of heaviness and quiet
A time of rest-
Afternoon is after the morning work has been done-
Afternoon is the weight of the day-
Afternoon is the time after the day has lost its freshness-
Still there must be afternoon poems-
There must be a beauty that emerges
In its own way,
Perhaps from where lovers meet
Perhaps from ‘ripeness is all’
Perhaps from the anticipation of evening
Perhaps from winter where it is the warmest time of day.
There must be afternoon poems-
Poems that celebrate all that warmth can bring-
Poems of rest poems of sleep-
Poems of waiting to believe
That in the evening
A new day and a new world
Will make life easier again.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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All in all, I wouldn't call it a bad outing. It was a short outing.
quote by Frank Robinson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Long Afternoon Became Longer
THE LONG AFTERNOON BECAME LONGER
The long afternoon became longer-
Time had no end and boredom also-
We all know it will eventually pass
But in the middle we are marooned waiting
Without any idea whatsoever of what to do-
I write these lines because I know
Boredom too has its beauty-
And waiting for nothing also its dream-
And out of nowhere there may come
Long into the long afternoon
Far after all the work is done and nothing remains
While waiting is still going on
A small poem to break the monotony
And give meaning back to life.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Afternoon Tea
Tea time wont be the same without my donna
At night I lie awake and dream of donna
I think about that small cafe
Thats where we used to meet each day
And then we used to sit a while
And drink our afternoon tea
Ill take afternoon tea (afternoon tea)
If you take it with me (afternoon tea)
You take as long as you like
cause I like you, girl
I take sugar with tea (afternoon tea)
You take milk if you please (afternoon tea)
Like you talking to me
Because you ease my mind
Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba (afternoon tea)
Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba (afternoon tea)
Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba (afternoon tea)
Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba (afternoon tea)
Tea time still aint the same without my donna
At night I lie awake and dream of donna
I went to our cafe one day
They said that donna walked away
Youd think at least she might have stayed
To drink her afternoon tea
Ill take afternoon tea (afternoon tea)
If you take it with me (afternoon tea)
You take as long as you like
cause I like you, girl
I take afternoon tea (afternoon tea)
Every day of the week (afternoon tea)
Please come along if you like
Because I like you, girl
Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba (afternoon tea)
Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba (afternoon tea)
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cindy, Cindy
(words & music by kaye - weisman - fuller)
Wish I was an apple dangling from a tree
Every time youd pass me by youd take a bite of me
I wish I was a bluebird Id never fly away
Id sit up on your shoulder baby and sing to you all day
Come on home cindy cindy, come on home cindy cindy
Come on home cindy cindy, come on home to me
I wrote it in a letter, carved it on a tree
Told it to a honeycomb, told it to a bee
Told them that I love you, they all know its true
Say it till the cows come home until it gets to you
Come on home cindy cindy, come on home cindy cindy
Come on home cindy cindy, come on home to me
Need you in the morning to start the coffee pot
Need you in the afternoon to fan me when Im hot
Need you in the evening when supper time is through
What Im really tryin to say is I cant get enough of you
Come on home cindy cindy, come on home cindy cindy
Come on home cindy cindy, come on home to me
If I were a musician Id harp on just one thing
You should never play my harp the way you pluck a string
If only you would love me say it and tell me so
I need two charms about me baby to have the whole world know
Come on home cindy cindy, come on home cindy cindy
Come on home cindy cindy, come on home to me
Come on home cindy cindy, come on home cindy cindy
Come on home cindy cindy, come on home to me
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Nice Place To Visit
Not really lookin for, for nothing special,
Just someplace that I can call my own,
Im growing tired of, of running wild,
Its time I settled down
Bridge:
There seems to be some lights on,
But aint nobody home
I think I see some lights on,
But there aint nobody home
Aint being choosy, but
Dont want no floozy,
And thats not much to ask
Chorus:
Shes a nice place to visit (3x)
But I wouldnt want to live her,
Nice place to visit
Hey, is anybody home?
Seeing is believing,
But looks can be deceiving,
What you get aint always what you see
I like what s down there,
But no one is upstairs,
I think theres bats in the belfry
Chorus
I dont know whats come over me,
Im blinded by the scenery,
Nice place to visit,
I dont know what Im gonna do
Im coming back because of you,
Nice place to visit, visit, visit...
Bridge
This big bad wolf knows
Which way the wind blows,
And which little piggys house is made of brick,
Must have vacated, or mislocated,
Theres just toys, toys in the attic
Chorus (hey, is anybody home? )
Knock, knock, whos there?
Shes a nice place to visit (2x)
song performed by by Extreme
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Gay Farewell
I've never seen
Such a sad queen
As Eddie.
I've seen him raving,
Maybe even in pain,
But never
Weeping like a baby.
On Saturday afternoon
He was really fine to him.
But on Saturday evening,
Oh, well Eddie was so pretty.
But now his boy is leaving.
Hey, boy, you're so young
To be a queen weeping.
You're just a little princess.
Oh, Eddie, don't!
Cause what can I do
But listen to you tell your story?
On Saturday afternoon
He was really fine to him.
But on Saturday evening,
Oh, well Eddie was so pretty.
But now his boy is leaving.
But now his boy is leaving.
But now his boy is leaving him.
Queenie, come home soon!
song performed by by Kate Bush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Drilling Holes
(HogarthKellyMosleyRotheryTrewavas)
A man came to drill holes in the afternoon
And by the evening
Most of the afternoon had gone
I seem to have slept through the morning
But in the afternoon
A morning is yet to come
A girl came to help out in the kitchen
And by the evening
We found we were all washed up
We ate on the lawn
With the insects
We burned incense
Most of the band turned up
It was just one of those days
When the mind strays
One of those days
When everyone plays
One of those days
When everyone stays
And all of the dreaming goes on
A woman arrived in a panic
With a picnic
Better to give than receive
A man came to pick holes in the logic
He wore plastic
And shoes you would hardly believe
The evening arrived
Slightly early like a pygmy
Chewing the wrong kind of leaves
We ordered extra tea
Listened to XTC
Under a shady tree
Went back to bed at three
It was cool
As can be
(two sugars for me..)
It was just one of those days
When the mind strays
When everyone plays
One of those days
When everyone stays
And all of the dreaming goes on
One of THOSE days.
song performed by by Marillion
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One Dull Man
Why did you play your spade in there? (said she).
I can't think why you don't take care (said she).
You fuss and fiddle with every card
As tho' you found the game too hard
You hung on to your trumps until
They caught you napping. Really, Will,
You think and hesitate so long;
Then in the end you play it wrong.
Why, you can't even call your hand.
You men! I cannot understand.
You are so stupid, dull and dense.
The game requires just common-sense.
But Bridge for you holds little gain:
Yet you're supposed to have a brain (said she).
Tired? You? I hope I am no cat (said she)
But I must say I do like that (said she)
What about me? You go to town,
And gossip there with Smith and Brown.
And go to lunch and have a drink,
Yet in the evening you can't think.
What about me? Your life's the best.
Why should you crave for so much rest?
Ask any doctor. He will say
A business man should always play.
You should play more. You know you should.
A change of occupation's good.
Yet, when I ask you to go out,
You say you're tired and moon about.
What about me? Do I complain?
Why, it's a wonder I keep sane
With all the dull monotony
That this existence holds for me.
You'll tell me that I'm lazy soon.
Why, I played all the afternoon! (said she).
Did you, my dear? I didn't know (said he).
Well, I suppose I must be slow (said he).
Yes, slow and dull. Again you're right -
You always are . . .Heigh, ho! . . . Good night (said he).
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Undone
Last stop on the westcoast line
South of the northern border
One small corner on my mind
Everybody they know me there
Don't get any second glances
Chances are that they don't care
World as come undone
like they change it everyday
Change don't come at once
There's a wave building before it breaks
Can't wait for election day
Where the nasty occupation
Corporations rule the day
Playing on the pendulum throws
Farther out to the one side swinging
Has to sweep back the other way
The world has come undone
Another day and who can wait
Change don't come at once
It's a wave building before it breaks
All this hope and nowhere to go
This is how I used to feel but no more
The world has come undone
Like a game that few can play
Change don't come from one
It's a wave building before it breaks
song performed by by Pearl Jam
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A beautiful home
It is my beautiful home
All friends visit and we welcome
We have lived here from the beginning
We have some sense of belonging
All the homes may have same set up
Some sort of attachment is built up
It is not confined to four walls alone
To own a home means half battle is won
You may have all sweet memories
It is possible that you have lived with miseries
You have little some satisfaction or solace
It may be tiny but still not less than a palace
It is lovely and beautiful home
You may have lovely feeling from
Windows and surroundings always offer
You feel some sort of satisfaction and never suffer
It is up to us how we make it or spoil
Maintain calm and cool and never to boil
Peace and happiness must always precede all
We should love to strive and make good call
Hell and heaven all can be made here
You don’t have to search it anywhere
It starts from your lovely heart
Home provides you good impetus to look smart
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Slow Jam
As I look at the morning sky
Today the wind is blowing hard
See that bird is floating high
Pretty soon it will be tired
I spent a day all by myself
A rich man without his wealth
Sometimes I get it wrong
But Im not the only one
The afternoon was very clear
The sun was beating down on me
I got thirsty for a beer
That I had to go to sea
The sea was very rough
It made me feel sick
But I like that kind of stuff
It beats arithmetic
I dont want the world to change
I like the way it is
Just give me one more wish
I cant get enough of this
When it gets to be alive
And not just still survive
To hit and not to miss
I cant get enough of this
The early evening mists
Look beautiful to me
Was sweeter than a kiss
I wish you all could see
Im a long long way from home
But this photograph of you
Even though its monochrome
Tells me what I should do
So I got up on my feet
I knew it would be alright
For my clothes were looking beat
In the middle of the night
I dont want the world to change
I like the way it is
Just give me one more wish
I cant get enough of this
When it gets to be alive
And not just still survive
To hit and not to miss
I cant get enough of this
I dont want the world to change
I like the way it is
Just give me one more wish
I cant get enough of this
When it gets to be alive
And not just still survive
To hit and not to miss
I cant get enough of this
I cant get enough of this
I cant get enough of this
I cant get enough of this
I cant get enough of this
I cant get enough of this
I cant get enough of this
I cant get enough of this
I cant get enough of this
song performed by by New Order
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My rights..
My parents take me to the Malls one after another,
Where I have seen local people and foreigners,
Young boys and girls hug and kiss each other, while shopping,
My parents did not bother to notice what I am watching,
Every Sunday we visit the Malls to shop and roam,
Until our legs are tired and then only we come back home,
Exam is nearer and I am grounded with books and tuition,
Outing, entertainment and TV all out of reach,
My father, a professional, wants me to excel,
My professional mother prays for me to succeed,
Both of them try to educate me as much as possible,
Even they may think of programming the brain of their child,
I am not as excellent as them and I want to practice,
How I was brought up. But they scold and curse,
That I am rebellious, not cultured and loose.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Croquet by Moonlight
On a moonlight evening, in the month of May,
A number of young people were playing at croquet,
They mingled together, the bashful with the gay,
And had a pleasant time and chat, while playing at croquet.
CHORUS:
This play they call croquet, croquet,
This play they call croquet,
It is amusement for the young,
This play they call croquet.
On that pleasant evening, the moon shone clear and bright,
And every heart among that crowd was filed with great delight.
It was a merry party, for lady Dell was there
Her merry laugh above the rest was heard by all, so fair.
CHORUS: This play, etc.
She was the belle that evening, admired by great and small,
And all the boys liked to play with the girl and blue ball.
She was a splendid player, so lively and so gay,
For she was skilled in playing that pleasant game croquet.
CHORUS: This play, etc.
Two young men among them, that loved this pretty Dell;
Although I write about them, their names I will not tell.
They were fine young fellows, so bashful, and yet so gay;
They tried to beat the girl that with the blue ball play.
CHORUS: This play, etc.
Ah! with those handsome fellows, Dell thought she'd have some fun,
"The one of you that'll catch me, may see me safely home."
The play began in earnest, between those fine young men,
To catch the girl with the blue ball, was impossible for them.
CHORUS: This play, etc.
She went around the play-ground, so full of life and gay,
She left them at the farther arch, so she beat them at croquet.
It was late that evening, and as I went away,
I know not how they came out, in that pleasant game, croquet.
CHORUS: This play, etc.
So croquet by moonlight is pleasant, as you see,
For business cares were laid aside, in that little company.
So playing at croquet, croquet, so playing at croquet,
It is amusement for the young folks, this play of croquet.
poem by Julia A Moore
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Twentyfour Hours
Morning skies of blue,
morning drops of dew,
some overhead,
some beneath my feet,
They both come into view.
Afternoon sun so bright,
afternoon heat so white,
some on my skin
how I feel it burn.
It makes me welcome the night.
Evening sounds I hear,
evening sounds appear
when all is quiet,
no noise of the day
is there to interfere.
Peaceful dark of night,
peaceful with no light.
Nothing overhead
tucked up in my bed,
I've nothing but dreams in my sight.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Wasted Life?
it's home
school home
then home
office
home
office
no other places
to go
no other places dared
some white sandy beaches
for sometime
a trek on a steep mountain
sometimes
visiting old folks
no questions asked
but only feeling also their
sense of
loneliness
or lostness in this vast
field of humanity
poetry
walk in the morning
poetry
noontime breaks
siesta
dinner with wife
and sleep
dawn breaks
stunning thoughts
arresting the self
on what next to do
home
home
home
a boring life maybe
but i think
it is not wasted.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Wife
He's out of work!
I tell myself a change should mean a chance,
And he must look for changes to advance,
And he, of all men, really needs a jerk.
But I hate change.
I like my kitchen with its pans and pots
That shine like new although we've used them lots.
I wouldn't like a kitchen that was strange.
And it's not true
All changes are for better. Some are worse.
A man had rather work, though work's a curse,
Than mope at home with not a thing to do.
No surer thing
Than that he'll get another job. But soon!
Or else I'll have to change. This afternoon
Would be the time, before I sell my ring.
poem by Lesbia Harford
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Dreaming Home
The winter morn passes soon
Quickly it's afternoon
The day surely is spent best
When you work till the evening rest
Seated in office or an outdoor roam
The day goes by dreaming home.
poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay
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I'm a huge fan of world cinema, because each country uses cinema in a very individual way.
quote by Mike Figgis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I think American cinema, particularly, has become so disposable. It's not even cinema, It's just moviemaking.
quote by Eriq La Salle
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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