Hoboken is a neat place.
quote by Daniel Pinkwater
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The time when I had desire to go to the United States I didn't have a penny. It was in the middle of the depression, you know. I couldn't get as far as Hoboken at that time.
Dirt makes a man look masculine. Let your hair blow in the wind, and all that. It's OK. All you have to do is look neat when you have to look neat.
quote by Hedy Lamarr
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Summer 1
Blue shirt with badge
Neat dress, neat hair
Announcing God
As an excuse?
poem by Michael Oliver
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This Mind of Mine
My mind lives in a place all its own,
a place that's mostly quiet.
But there are times when all that silence
erupts into a riot.
It houses so many thoughts each day,
but I don't complain.
It's home to so many melodies
and many a refrain.
Too hard to keep orderly, tidy and neat,
clutter often abounds.
As I try to clear it out I find
the disorder stays around.
But somehow I've managed to disregard it.
There's a nook and cranny inside.
That's the place where I'm comfortable
and all my words reside.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Diary of a Nine Day Poet
Today (Day 1) I writed stuff I thort was pritty neet
I wanna do this poet shit, so that I can complete
Today (Day 2) I wroted tings I thawt was really neat
I one ta do these poem stuff just so I can compete
Today (Day 3) I wroted down some things I thawt was neat
I want to do some poet stuff just so I can compete
Today (Day 4) I wrote some things I thought was pretty neat
I want to do some poetry just so as I’ll compete
Today (Day 5) I’ve written things I think are fairly neat
I want to write poetically so that I can compete
Today (Day 6) I’m writing verse that is a poets treat
Expressing so poetically; you really can’t compete
Today (Day 7) One is just the best that one can be
I’m thinking other lesser folk should focus just on me
Today (Day 8) I give critique whilst looking down my nose
“One shouldn’t stand illiteracy – Does really one suppose”
Today (Day 9) Ones course is done, one writes on this and that
One’s still unread but now one wears a cloak and silk cravat
poem by Stephen Stirk
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This morning six thirty we drive past a church
This morning six thirty
we drive past a church
where a lot of cars are already parked.
While we pass the church
I wonder about what
the people are praying
and I think that they
must truly be Christians.
The church has a neat yard
and looks out of place
in the inner city where everything dilapidates
and I hear a song softly
that people
is busy singing
and then I know that Gods amazing grace
goes through every thing and every place.
poem by Gert Strydom
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I leave my heart with you
I met a friend
She dreams
about the summer
The flowers are on the table
Soon,
she’ll sing,
like Luciano Pavarotti
Without an audience
Her finial
Would be filled
With dithyramb.........
And phylactery
* To Anna, who died of AIDS in Hoboken, New Jersey.
Bruce Springsteen, 'The Boss' wrote Streets of Philadelphia to raise our awareness to Aids...please give generously to help stop Aids.
Listen to the song on You Tube ' Streets of Philadelphia '.
^___^
poem by Sulaiman Mohd Yusof
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Busy Booked Hooker
Dressed nice and neatly.
She looked so hot.
With a weave that fizzled.
Dressed nice and neat,
Dressed nice and neatly.
With composure there.
Dressed nice and neat,
Dressed nice and neatly.
She avoided disaster.
Dressed nice and neat,
She played it sweet,
And undeterred.
She had wisdom and the drive...
To keep my interest flowing.
While 'peaking' as I'm growing,
To maximize the widening of her thighs.
Dressed nice and neat,
Dressed nice and neatly.
With composure there.
Dressed nice and neat,
Dressed nice and neatly.
She avoided disaster.
Dressed nice and neat,
She played it sweet,
And undeterred.
She had wisdom and the drive...
To keep my interest flowing.
While 'peaking' as I'm growing,
To maximize the widening of her thighs.
Dressed nice and neat,
Dressed nice and neatly.
She was not that sweet.
Dressed nice and neat,
Dressed nice and neatly.
She was a noonday hooker.
Dressed nice and neat,
Dressed nice and neatly.
Just an overbooked hooker.
On a call,
To meet.
She's just an overbooked hooker.
On a call,
To meet.
A busy booked hooker
On a call,
To meet.
She's just an overbooked hooker.
On a call,
To meet.
A busy booked hooker
On a call,
To meet.
A crooked booked hooker,
On a call,
To meet.
A crooked busy hooker,
On a call,
To meet.
A busy booked hooker,
On a call,
To meet.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The wizard
Some might call it a laboratory,
to others a place of unclear science
but to me it’s a place of trickery
looking like a kind of factory
where a little man with vast experience
studies a old tome, a mystic book of his trade
with sketches and funny arithmetic, all hand made
and his fingers write arcane signs
in neat little lines
and I see nothing really gruesome
but an awful power is set in his deep eyes,
blacker than the night sky, than the darkest dye:
looking as that of someone, that has viewed the beyond
with a secret incorporeal bond, sizzling with unknown energy.
poem by Gert Strydom
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This Is Not My Crumbcake
I did not place my crumbcake here!
This is not my crumbcake.
And this chair was over there.
And who took a sip of my rootbeer float mix?
No one is to leave this room...
Until I get a sniff of everyone's lips.
I do not want another slice.
When I got up to get a napkin...
Someone came over here,
To sneak a bite to eat.
Picked up my treat...
And did not care to place it back neat!
That's not nice!
That is the markings of a creep.
This is not my crumbcake.
I did not take a bite.
Nor do I have a gap between my teeth.
Don't laugh!
That was the last corner piece!
And I'm going to find which one of you trespassed.
This crumbcake was mine.
Not for someone else to sneak.
Peaking to see me leave before they leaped.
Who did this?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Take It Or Leave It
How come he enjoys himself not me? (I dont know)
How come she smiles a good morning to me?
How do they make a hard days work easy?
Tell me something Ill put it to the test
Take hold of yourself and you will see
How lucky we are to be free,
Now you take for granted,
Life and country.
How come he jokes with friends but not me?
How can she sing out of tune not me?
How do they find time for kids on sunday?
I cant express uncalled for agress,
Youre in one-way traffic cant you see?
Before a head-on crash steer free,
When if its too late,
Dont come and cry to me.
How come they get on with but not me?
How can they walk arm-in-arm happily?
How does that old boy dance down the street?
Tell me something Ill put it to the test,
Take hold of yourself and you will see,
How lucky we are to be free,
Now you take for granted,
Life and country.
How come we never get on you and me?
How can we find out the remedy?
How does that old ladys home look neat?
How does that old ladys home look neat?
How does that old ladys home look neat?
song performed by by Madness
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shutting Up....
if i only
knew
the objective of
art is to keep things
in order
convert chaos into
a well kept room
no messing
everything neat in its place
perhaps
that is what i am doing right now
threshing out
emotions early morning
putting them inside
a canvass of this monitor
a window
where emotions take the shape of words
shit
shut.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Goodbye!
Come, thrust your hands in the warm earth
And feel her strength through all your veins;
Breathe her full odors, taste her mouth,
Which laughs away imagined pains;
Touch her life's womb, yet know
This substance makes your grave also.
Shrink not; your flesh is no more sweet
Than flowers which daily blow and die;
Nor are your mein and dress so neat,
Nor half so pure your lucid eye;
And, yet, by flowers and earth I swear
You're neat and pure and sweet and fair.
poem by Richard Aldington
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Twisting By The Pool
Were going on a holiday now
Gonna take a villa, a small chalet
On the costa del magnifico
Where the cost of living is so low
Yeah, were gonna be so neat
Dance to the eurobeat
Yeah, were gonna be so cool
Twisting by the pool
Sitting in a small cafe now
Swing, swing, swingin to the cabaret
You wanna see a movie, take in a show now
Meet new people at the disco
Yeah, were gonna be so neat
Dance to the eurobeat
Yeah, were gonna be so cool
Twisting by the pool
And we can still get information
Reading all about inflation
And youre never gonna be out of reach
Theres a call-box on the beach
Mmm, youre gonna look so cute
Sunglasses and bathing suites
Be the baby of my dreams
Like the ladies in the magazine
Yeah, were gonna be so neat
Dance to the eurobeat
Yeah, were gonna be so cool
Twisting by the pool
Im a twisting fool
Just twisting, yeah twisting
Twisting by the pool
song performed by by Dire Straits
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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K.S.R. Dental College
The day I saw the campus first,
I fell in love with it;
The place looks neat and tidy kept;
The college seems quite fit!
I love the way the place is run,
And how the buses ply;
I love the way all things are done;
Children here do not cry!
I know my child will love this place;
She’ll make a doctor fine;
She’s sure to win this lovely race;
In limelight, she will shine!
I know I’ve found the place I sought;
I need not change my plan;
My child is in the dental slot!
Why should I worry, man?
Five years will fly off very fast,
Although it looks so long;
Let no one brood over the past;
Just sing a happy song.
Kudos to him whose fore-vision,
Had built this college great;
The student has all things within;
One need not reach the gate.
Oh, what a lovely dream come true!
A dentist earns a lot!
But one must toil, persevere too;
And use the wisdom got.
One’s college life is full of bliss;
Yet, one must slog somewhat;
May be, your home, awhile you miss;
‘Cheer up and learn! ’ so what?
Fondly dedicated to the Chairman, K.S.R. Group of Institutions,
Dr. Lion. K.S.Rangasamy MJF, Tiruchengode, Namakkal dist, TN.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 27-09-2010
poem by John Celes
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K.S.R. Dental College, Tiruchengode
The day I saw the campus first,
I fell in love with it;
The place looks neat and tidy kept;
The college seems quite fit!
I love the way the place is run,
And how the buses ply;
I love the way all things are done;
Children here do not cry!
I know my child will love this place;
She’ll make a doctor fine;
She’s sure to win this lovely race;
In limelight, she will shine!
I know I’ve found the place I sought;
I need not change my plan;
My child is in the dental slot!
Why should I worry, man?
Five years will fly off very fast,
Although it looks so long;
Let no one brood over the past;
Just sing a happy song.
Kudos to him whose fore-vision,
Had built this college great;
The student has all things within;
One need not reach the gate.
Oh, what a lovely dream come true!
A dentist earns a lot!
But one must toil, persevere too;
And use the wisdom got.
One’s college life is full of bliss;
Yet, one must slog somewhat;
May be, your home, awhile you miss;
‘Cheer up and learn! ’ so what?
Fondly dedicated to the Chairman, K.S.R. Group of Institutions,
Lion. Dr. K.S.Rangasamy MJF, Tiruchengode, Namakkal dist, TN.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 27-09-2010
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Same Place, Same Time
Same place, same time
Same place, same time
Same place, same time
Same place, same time
The coffee’s hot
And the company is good
Conversation flows, as it should
A joke or two
And when all is said and done
We’re right back to where we begun
Same place, same time
Same place, same time
Same place, same time
Same place, same time
These crowded streets
I balance tight roped on the curb
Car screeches past, a scream is heard
De ja vu
Yes I’ve been here before
Time moves slowly as traffic stalls
Same place, same time
Same place, same time
Same place, same time
Same place, same time
Break
It was good
You were sublime
I’m so glad that we spent the time
Time is short
What we have is rare
Love is oxygen with you there
Same place, same time
Same place, same time
Same place, same time
Same place, same time
Copyright 2006 (updated 2010)
poem by Colin Coplin
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Written In The First Leaf Of A Child's Memorandum-Book
My neat and pretty book, when I thy small lines see
They seem for any use to be unfit for me.
My writing, all misshaped, uneven as my mind,
Within this narrow space can hardly be confined.
Yet I will strive to make my hand less awkward look;
I would not willingly disgrace thee, my neat book.
The finest pens I'll use, and wondrous pains I'll take,
And I these perfect lines my monitors will make.
And every day I will set down in order due
How that day wasted is; and should there be a few
At the year's end that show more goodly to the sight,
If haply here I find some days not wasted quite,
If a small portion of them I have passed aright,
Then shall I think the year not wholly was misspent,
And that my Diary has been by some good angel sent.
poem by Charles Lamb
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The Place
There is a place
In my heart that still dances
A place in my soul that sings
- And sings, and dances and dances -
A place so deep, so set
A place that even the mundane drudgery
The routine day-to-day
Can not kill
A place so close, so distant
A place that was, and is yet to come
A place where belief originates and lives
The birth place of
The most human humanity
The most divine divinity
A place where
Majesty, mystery and magic still speak
A place of all origins.
Some will not hear it any longer.
But, I still listen...
Waiting... hoping... trusting...believing...
The Place... is real.
It's way out there - it's everywhere...
It is ever within.
This Place... is my place.
It has called to me by name
Since the day of birth,
It's name is simple and profound;
I call him
Jesus.
He calls me
'My child.'
It's to him we go.
It's for us he came.
He is where I belong.
I am always on the Way
To the Place
Where he is.
The Place... home.
poem by Smoky Hoss
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Definition of happiness
ITS A place we have all been to:
a place were difficulties are forgotten
were only joyful events are certain
its a place you cant go to everyday
when you get there not long enough you can stay
a place safe and secure
a shield that deflects any bad thing that could accrue
a place were poise and pride are not neglected
a place were negative thoughts, ideas are not selected
a place far away from here
a place that does not recognize fear
a place that needs along time to get to
yet you arrive and forget any negative thing you have been through
a place that effects so deep
a place were you cant fall asleep
a place that does not exist
yet we have all been there I still insist
a place that’s not defined as a dream or a fantasy
a place that is only called happiness and ecstasy
Yet it is the most beautiful place
where sound of laughter and shape of smile race
on ones face like it would be in grace
poem by Ayesha Sartawi
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