En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Quiz Poem

I arrived at the party:

a) in my innocent night white dress
b) to deny the rumor I heard, moi a little nerd
c) in the hottest lingerie(God forbid all the guys to be gay)
d) with a ray of mum's perfume: the play of day, the day of smell,
the smell of grass, the grass of green yard behind my house,
the house of my home had a dome of flowers, flowers of her mouth

Everybody looked:

a) at me
b) in tune with Prodigy, jolly, junky
c) not as sad as the girl who said:
, , his ex is still his best sex on X'
d) strange sensations seeped in my mouth,
sour as wine, never drank by my dad, violet-red, as my doll's hair,
her thighs, eyes, curls, hushed the fairest hair.

I went to the bar:

a) though a little bit tipsy
b) hoping the barman would imagine me nude
c) because my boyfriend told me not to
d) to hide beneath the wooden warmth
that wantonly hailed childhood, up the hill, the lively spots of fields
and sticks in the ray, hidden prey, grandma whispering won't you

I left:

a) untouched & chaste
b) in the morning, unable to walk
c) there being no talk, but a hand around my waist
d) and left them, unmelted on the purple rag,
green leaves his palms hollow, moist lens,
the softest cream of farewells…

poem by Afrodita Nikolova
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Green, Green Grass Of Home

(words & music by claude putman, jr.)
The old home town looks the same,
As I step down from the train,
And there to meet me is my mama and papa
Down the road I look and there runs mary
Hair of gold and lips like cherries
Its good to touch the green, green grass of home
Yes, theyll all be there to meet me,
All creatures smiling sweetly
Its good to touch the green, green grass of home
The old house is still standing,
Though the paint is cracked and dry
And theres an old oak tree that I used to play on
Down the lane Ill walk with my sweet mary
Hair of gold and lips like cherries
Its good to touch the green, green grass of home
Then I awake and look around me
Cold gray walls surround me
And I realize that I was only dreamin
Theres a guard and theres a sad old padre
Arm and arm well walk at daybreak
Again Ill touch the green, green grass of home
Yes, theyll all be there to meet me
In the shadow of that old oak tree
As they lay me beneath the green, green grass of home

song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Greeen Green Grass Of Home

The old home town looks the same,
As I step down from the train
And there to greet me is my mamma and my poppa
Down the road I look, and there runs Mary,
Hair of gold, lips like cherries,
It's good to touch the green, green grass of home
Yes, they'll all come to meet me, Arms a-reachin', smilin' sweetly,
It's good to touch the green, green grass of home
The old house is still standin,'Though the paint is cracked and dry
And there's that old oak tree, That I used to play on.
Down the lane I'll walk with my sweet Mary,
Hair of gold and lips like cherries
It's good to touch the green, green grass of home.
Then I awake and look around me,
At the four gray walls that surround me,
And I realize .Yes I was only dreaming,
For there's a guard and a sad old padre,
Arm in arm we'll walk at daybreak,
And at last I'll touch the green green grass of home

song performed by by Tom Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Green Green Grass Of Home

The old home town looks the same as I step down from the train,
And there to meet me is my mama and papa.
Down the road I look and there runs mary hair of gold and lips like cherries.
Its good to touch the green, green grass of home.
Yes, theyll all come to meet me, arms reaching, smiling sweetly.
Its good to touch the green, green grass of home.
The old house is still standing tho the paint is cracked and dry,
And theres that old oak tree I used to play on.
Down the lane I walk with my sweet mary, hair of gold and lips like cherries.
Its good to touch the green, green grass of home.
Yes, theyll all come to meet me, arms reaching, smiling sweetly.
Its good to touch the green, green grass of home.
[spoken:]
Then I awake and look around me, at four grey wall surround me
And I realize that I was only dreaming.
For theres a guard and theres a sad old padre -
Arm in arm well walk at daybreak.
Again I touch the green, green grass of home.
Yes, theyll all come to see me in the shade of that old oak tree
As they lay me neath the green, green grass of home

song performed by by Tom Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Green Green Grass Of Home

The old home town looks the same as I step off the train
Meeting every train in my mind's eye till the man in mail came
Hair like gold, lips like cherry
It's good to touch the green, green grass of home
Green, green grass of home, green green grass of home.
Only dream I know of is to be found hair like gold, lips like a cherry
It's good to touch the green, green grass of home
They'll all come to greet me, on the steps of my sweet dream
It's good I dreamt the green, green grass of home
I wait and look around me at the broken walls that surround me
And out here I was on the ground.
There's a garden in the path of progress unharmed through winter's day break
Then I'll touch the green, green grass of home
They'll all come to greet me from the chains of the old dark hollow
The green, green grass of home
They'll all come to greet me on the steps, my sweet dream

song performed by by Grateful Dead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Spring

See how new green shoots
and branches and leaves
and flowers appear
and the green grass
rises everywhere,
the gods had set a part
of Eden here.

Hear the birds
sing and cheer
and see them fly past
and follow the white-hot sun
while the rays comes to stay
for a longer time.

Smell the first rain
and wild flowers
in the fields
and get thrilled
by the sweet scent
that every flower brings

Abide with me
as the trees dress fit
for a royal wedding
and new life
appears from where it hides
and realise that Spring
is a living thing.

poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Closeness

your hand
entwined to my hand

your hair under my chin
your head resting on my chest

you smell my breath
there is no sound from your mouth

you close your eyes and see some trees
and ponds and waterfalls

and birds and clouds and flowers blooming
over a field of green grass

and butterflies and bees
the air you feel is as fresh as the scent of our skins

i caress your arms you let my hands go
you touch my face and then you look at me

we kiss and then we both melt
in paradise.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Color Purple

a friend of mine is obsessed with purple
she says it's a royal color
fits for kings and queens
and she feels like a princess
on her purple hair
her purple dress
and purple bra and
purple shoes
the walls of her house are painted
the railings of the stairs
the windows
the doors are all purple now
the flowers in her garden
and the leaves of her trees
the grass
all purple too
her speech is purple too
the movies she watch are all in the shade of purple
her car turned purple too
royal color that is what she says

i tell her bluntly, ' You are boring, purple! '

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Coquette

Girl, oh girl,
I can see you
in the wintry morning
as you go out
hurrying
with the copper bracelets’ sound
your hair surmounts your tiny head,
your hair,
coarse like horse’s mane
black hairs cutting the air
as you look in the mirror
for the last time
before you lе а ve.
Girl, I can see you
with the lipstick,
idolizing your mouth,
full shiny mouth,
your high heels tempt the stairs
as you descend,
Girl, I know you,
your plain body, tiny legs, slim,
trembling
with the muscles of your arms
as you lock the door;
What have you done
and they don’t know?
Your curly red hair from the youth
you’ve straightened it smooth
and dyed black,
Girl, does your body hurt when nude?
What have you done?
I could never see
your plasticine drops flow,
why did you go to the wolfs
when night fell:
teary drops tear the flesh
your tiny breasts
were mesmerized
with the green amulet
swinging
from one breast to other
we see each other strangely;
How queer,
I can see you in the night
girl you crawl, the saffron shawl
slithers your body as your stomach
swells with pain
“To hell with the wolfs“
and in the room of old wolf
always reeks malodorous.
Girl I can see you
bending,
your knees rubbing the floor
your coarse palms
sending the bulletins of shame
to be published,
hush girl, I can see
your blackened and regretful
running down your toes: tears.
I can see you go
as someone locks the door
from where you went in the night
I can see you howling,
green with forest coldness
green were your eyes
reddened with plasticine
and you, what were you?
Why girl you are,
in the wintry night
as you come back home,
just another
plasticine doll.

poem by Afrodita Nikolova
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Green Green Grass Of Home

The old hometown looks the same
As I step down from the train
And there to meet me is my mama and papa
And down the road I look and there runs Mary
Her golden lips like cherries
It's good to touch the green, green grass of home.
Yes, they've all come to meet me
Arms reaching, smiling sweetly
It's so good to touch the
Green, green grass of home.
The old house is still standing
Though the paint is cracked and dry
And there's that old oak tree that I used to play on
Down the lane I'd walk with my sweet Mary
Her golden lips like cherries
It's good to touch the green, green grass of home.
Yesm they've all come
Arms reaching, smiling sweetly
It's so good to touch the
Green, green grass of home.
Then I awake and look around me
At the gray walls that surround me
And I realized that I was only dreaming
For there's a guard and there's a sad old padre
Arm in arm, we'll walk at daybreak
Again I'll touch the green, green grass of home.
Yes they'll all come to see me
In the shade of that old oak tree
As they lay me neath the
Green, green grass of home...

song performed by by Kenny Rogers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Justice

Huts of childhood are in autumn,

Decayed hamlet; dark shapes,

Singing mothers in the evening wind;

At windows Angelus and hands fold.

Still birth; on green ground

Mystery and stillness of blue flowers.

Insanity opens the purple mouth:

Dies irae - grave and stillness.

Groping along green thorns;

In the sleep: blood-vomit, hunger and laughter;

Fire in the village, awakening in the green;

Fear and swaying on gurgling boat.

Or in wooden staircase again

The white shadow of the strange woman leans.-

Poor sinner longing away in the blueness

Left his putrefaction behind for lilies and rats.

poem by Georg Trakl
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To Prepare for You

To prepare for you
I scrub the soles of my feet
and cut my toenails.
I wash and brush my hair
Flicking it out with my fingers
so each strand will dry fast and sweet
in the breeze of the ceiling fan.

I smooth oil on my elbows, thighs, and knees;
brushing oil from my palms
over my nipples
so they’ll stick to your fingers.

I wrap myself in a silky sarong
choose a cunning earring
which will jangle in your bed
when I shake my hair over you.

Will you notice that I’ve cut my hair?
One side is longer than the other
but I won’t neaten it.
I’ll wear the earring on the long side.

I streak perfume through my hair.
Bought near the Jain temple
in Udaipur
palest green scent distilled from a root
dissolved in oil of sandalwood

Last time I left you
I could smell you in my hair all day.

poem by Kaye Aldenhoven
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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An Angel's Touch

It was Wednesday morning service
in the church next to the school
and Helen sat next to you

in the old wooden pew
her eyes peering
behind her thick lens glasses

at you and she whispered
your mum's meeting my mum
in the street market after school

and then we're going to my house
for a cup of tea
and I can show you

my doll's house
that my dad made
out of an orange box

and it's got lights
and everything
you leaned your head

towards her and said
in a low voice
oh right yes that'll be good

hoping none of your mates
could hear
especially Cogan

who only the other week
threatened to bloody your nose
but he didn't show after school

and she smiled
and you looked at the altar
where the vicar

was lighting candles
and Mrs Murphy
was walking down the aisle

like an aging storm trooper
in her hand knitted cardigan
and brown pleated skirt

Helen whispered
and you can see
the tiny furniture

I've got too
that my mum bought
from a second hand shop

off the market
you looked at her
sitting there

in her grey jumper
and white blouse
and grey skirt

and her plaited hair
parted in the middle
and her bright eyes

magnified by the glass lens
and you said
I look forward to it

and she rubbed your hand
with hers
and then looked ahead

at the lighted candles
and sniffed in the incense
in the air and her hand

moved to pick up
a hymn book
and you sensed where

her hand had been
like some angel's touch
as if to bless

well that's what
it seemed like to you
more or less.

poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Final Door.......

Brown house
Grey smiles
Green green grass
Black shoes
Crystal tears with heart felt whispers
Hugs

Blue sky with cream teeth
Green green grass
(hold that thought)
Glassed water grasped
Taut innards
Flowers brought

White horses
Braided manes
White lilies
Window pane
White carriage
To carry forth
Green green grass
Hold that thought

Passing traffic
Collars grasped
Blurry images
Tend then pass
Crystal tears
Smart black tie
Shake and smile
Avoid the eye

Deep breath enter in
Listen watch
Let them begin
Then stare at the floor

'Bye bye darling'
Open door

poem by Karen Sinclair
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hattie House

Air -- "Lily Dale"

Come all kind friends, wherever you may be,
Come listen to what I say,
It's of a little girl that was pleasant to see,
And she died while out doors at play.

CHORUS:

Oh! Hattie, dear Hattie,
Sweet little Hattie House --
May the flowers ever bloom o'er the little tomb,
Of our loved one, Hattie House.

She had blue eyes and light flaxen hair,
Her little heart was light and gay,
She said to her mother, that morning fair,
"Mother, can I go out and play?"

Her mother tied her bonnet on,
Not thinking it would be the last
She would ever see her dear little one
In this world, little Hattie House.

She left the house, this dear little girl,
On that bright and pleasant day --
She went to play with two little girls
That were near about her age.

She was not gone but a little while
When they heard her playmates call --
Her friends hastened there to save the child,
Alas, she was dead and gone.

Those little girls will not forget
The day little Hattie died,
For she was with them when she fell in a fit,
While playing by their side.

She was her parents' only child,
And her age was near six years,
And now she has left them for a while --
Left all her friends in tears.

She has left this world of grief and woe,
Dear friends, she has left behind --
She is waiting on the other shore,
To meet them bye and bye.

One fine morning, the fifth of July,
The summer flowers were in bloom,
Eighteen seventy-one, little Hattie died,
And is sleeping in her tomb.

poem by Julia A Moore
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Grass Is Greener

One thing that I have heard
As I have often been told
Was the grass is always greener
On the other side of the road,
And to the that one statement
I truly had no ideal,
Was it but a lie that I often heard
Or was that assumption for real.
So on top of my own roof
I went to, after my climb
To check another ones yard
Of course a yard, that wasn't mine.
And there is where I stood
As I surveyed across the road
To see if anyone's grass was greener
As I often had heard and also been told.
And there from where that I stood
And from what that I could see
Their grass was not any greener
Than my yard, that I do believe.
So I surveyed the yards of my neighbors
As up on my roof I stood as I thought
Maybe all yards are all different then
So I got off my roof, and I went for a walk.
I walked down the street
Then I walked up the next block
Seems as though the houses got bigger
Along with their possession's and their lots.
Their grass didn't seem any greener
Than mine or the other that I have seen
Though theirs yards were much larger
As though a good picture from everyone's dream.
So there I left, and I continued my walk
I then came across some railroad tracks
And there stood houses and from what I saw,
Their grass was as green, front yard and back.
Though their yards they wasn't as large
As the ones I have seen
And their houses weren't as large or as nice
But their yards, they were just as green.
So then I headed back unto my home
To reflect back on the things that I have seen,
And of the ideals people thought of and said
And what in their mind they really did mean.
So when I got back unto my home
I climbed again on top of my roof
So there I could reflect and think to myself
About my neighbors and me and to tell the truth.
Though the grass might be greener, I did say
On the other side of the road,
But this one thing I tell you my friend,
The grass, it still has to be mowed.

Randy L. McClave

poem by Randy McClave
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Let Me Sleep Beside You

Baby, baby, brush the dust of youth from your shoulder
Because the years of fretting days are right behind you now
Dont return to fields of green where rainbow secrets were told
Place your ragged doll with all the toys and things and deeds
I will show you a game where the winner never wins
Let your hair hang down, wear the dress your mother wore
Let me sleep beside you
Lock away your childhood and throw away the key
For now the streets and city sounds will burn your eyes as coals
We shall drink the oldest wine and velvet skies will linger
Child, youre a woman now, your heart and soul are free
I will boldly light that lamp and we shall walk together
Let your hair hang down, wear the dress your mother wore
Let me sleep beside you
Your darkened eyes throw mystery
But your lips are void of history
You could not imagine that it could happen this way, could you
I will give you dreams and Ill tell you things youll like to hear
Let your hair hang down, wear the dress your mother wore
Let me sleep beside you
Let me sleep beside you

song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sestina

I have come, alas, to the great circle of shadow,
to the short day and to the whitening hills,
when the colour is all lost from the grass,
though my desire will not lose its green,
so rooted is it in this hardest stone,
that speaks and feels as though it were a woman.

And likewise this heaven-born woman
stays frozen, like the snow in shadow,
and is unmoved, or moved like a stone,
by the sweet season that warms all the hills,
and makes them alter from pure white to green,
so as to clothe them with the flowers and grass.

When her head wears a crown of grass
she draws the mind from any other woman,
because she blends her gold hair with the green
so well that Amor lingers in their shadow,
he who fastens me in these low hills,
more certainly than lime fastens stone.

Her beauty has more virtue than rare stone.
The wound she gives cannot be healed with grass,
since I have travelled, through the plains and hills,
to find my release from such a woman,
yet from her light had never a shadow
thrown on me, by hill, wall, or leaves’ green.

I have seen her walk all dressed in green,
so formed she would have sparked love in a stone,
that love I bear for her very shadow,
so that I wished her, in those fields of grass,
as much in love as ever yet was woman,
closed around by all the highest hills.

The rivers will flow upwards to the hills
before this wood, that is so soft and green,
takes fire, as might ever lovely woman,
for me, who would choose to sleep on stone,
all my life, and go eating grass,
only to gaze at where her clothes cast shadow.

Whenever the hills cast blackest shadow,
with her sweet green, the lovely woman
hides it, as a man hides stone in grass.

poem by Dante Alighieri
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At The Time When Mother Left For Ozamis

i remember now
it was at that time when mother packed her clothes
and left my father for good
back in the little village where mother
was raised by grandmother
as a naive girl
keeping things to herself.
she dwells in a house of silence.

it was at that time when father said
that he loves her very much
that losing her would mean his death
but mother was no longer in the house
where we grew.

and of course, mother did not really believe him.
she died ahead of him, and he got drunk everyday, and
he put her picture on top of his chest and he cried all night long
staring at her face, black and white, her hair her mouth.
he died a year after and he was buried just beside her pantheon.

i still wonder if mother would believe him.

the silence is overwhelming. no one sweeps the heaps of leaves
and no wind is strong enough to clean the mounds filled with thick grass.

come summer time, i see white daisies blooming, and a black butterfly
hovers to stop a while. I watch closely this new turn of events.

it is like poetry. Some metaphors. Symbols, and hints. Love's mouth
wanting to say all over again, what the heart has constantly hidden.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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An Early Morning Walk

i had a walk this morning
and i saw twilight

fog hovering still on the feet of the mountains
there is beauty in haze
in the opaqueness of smog

i inhale cold air inside my lungs
and walk faster

there is dew on the grass
as fingers of light comes out from the hazy fog

herons arrive and land on the green fields
catching the frogs

the brown cow is munching grass inside its mouth
still lying comfortably on the ground

the macopa tree shed its leaves
in favor of new shiny ones

the trail is clear
no one has arrived here yet

it is about to rain with all the gray clouds lumping in the sky
ah, i am not running for shelter.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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September Grass

Well, the suns not so hot in the sky today
And you know I can see summertime slipping on away
A few more geese are gone, a few more leaves turning red
But the grass is as soft as a feather in a featherbed
So Ill be king and youll be queen
Our kingdoms gonna be this little patch of green
Wont you lie down here right now
In this september grass
Wont you lie down with me now
September grass
Oh the memory is like the sweetest pain
Yeah, I kissed the girl at a football game
I can still smell the sweat and the grass stains
We walked home together. I was never the same.
But that was a long time ago
And where is she now? I dont know
Wont you lie down here right now
In this september grass
Wont you lie down with me now
September grass
Oh, september grass is the sweetest kind
It goes down easy like apple wine
Hope you dont mind if I pour you some
Made that much sweeter by the winter to come
Do you see those ants dancing on a blade of grass?
Do you know what I know? thats you and me, baby
Were so small and the worlds so vast
We found each other down in the grass
Wont you lie down with me right here
September grass
Wont you lie down with me now
In this september grass
Lie down
Lie down
Lie down
Lie down
(repeat)
Wont you lie down here right now
In this september grass
Wont you lie down here now
In this september grass

song performed by by James Taylor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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