The Pill Box
I woke up early this morning
And didn’t know what day it was
Until I walked to the kitchen
And spotted my pill dispenser
Sitting on the oaken table
Placed there by my loving wife
Before my angel left for work;
Looking at the seven day-marked
Cells just piqued me at that moment:
To think at this phase of my life
A pill box was my calendar.
I looked at the empty cells marked
“S”, “M” and “T” and realized
This morning has to be Wednesday.
poem by Albert Ahearn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Pill.........placebo Domingo
Give me a pill, and I'll say I'm okay
Give me a pill and I'll just go away
Give me a pill and I'll swing from the rafters
Give me a pill and I'll live 'happy ever after'
Give me a pill and I'll site you in my will
Give me a pill and I'll stop being 'ill'
Give me a pill and I'll trip the light fantastic
Give me a pill and i'll overdose on 'plastic'
Give me a pill and I'll lie through my back teeth
And say that you're 'fantastic'
Give me a pill and I'll give you some wine
Give me a pill and I'll say that I'm fine
But give me a placebo
And then i'll sing 'nessun dorma' like that FAT CAT
PLACIDO DOMINGO!
yvette ethel smith 4.8.09
poem by Yvette Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Chill Pill
Everybody needs to take a chill pill
there's so much love to fill
everybody needs to take a chill pill
let these wounds heal
everybody needs to take a chill pill
Let it be your will
dry all this blood we spill
everybody needs to take a chill pill
find in your heart not to kill
everybody needs to take a chill pill
Think how the world would feel
everybody needs to take a chill pill
think of it as being real
everybody needs to take a chill pill
take your guns and kneel
You won't have to steal
while you watch your tire's peel
everybody needs to take a chill pill
nothing here is that big of a deal
if only it was so surreal
little bird on the windowsill
everybody needs to take a chill pill
(spiritwind-2009)
poem by Spiritwind Wood
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Empty Sky
I woke up this morning
I could barely breathe
Just an empty impression
In the bed there you used to be
I want a kiss from your lips
I want an eye for an eye
I woke up this morning to an empty sky
Empty sky, empty sky
I woke up this morning to an empty sky
Empty sky, empty sky
I woke up this morning to an empty sky
Blood on the streets
Blood flowin down
I hear the blood of my blood
Cryin from the ground
Empty sky, empty sky
I woke up this morning to an empty sky
Empty sky, empty sky
I woke up this morning to an empty sky
On the plains of jordan
I cut my bow from the wood
Of this tree of evil
Of this tree of good
I want a kiss from your lips
I want an eye for an eye
I woke up this morning to the empty sky
song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Early In The Morning
Early in the morning and I cant get right
Had a little date with my baby last night
Now its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Well its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Now its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Went to all the places where we used to go
Went to your house but you dont live there no more
Now its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Well its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Went to your friends house but she was out
Knock on your fathers door and he began to shout get out there boy
Early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Went to doogie chain to get something to eat
Waiter looked at me and said you sure look beat
Now its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning (early in the morning)
Well its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Well its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Well its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Sickness
he cannot imagine himself
now
swallowing from pill to pill
his stomach
becoming more like
a pharmaceutical
storage cabinet
there is a pill for his
numb arms
another pill for his
acidic stomach
more pills for him
to sleep
another pill for his
throat infection
another one for his
allergies
side effects of some
drugs that he had been
taking
this sickness into death
until one day
he refuses any pill
not that he cannot pay the bill
he is ready for
the thrill
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Insomniacs Complaint
I take a pill to help me sleep.
I take another when I wake
To me the cost is rather steep
I got addicted by mistake.
Although I had tries counting sheep
It didn’t work I lay awake.
I take a pill to help me sleep
I take another when I wake.
From the first my sleep was deep
I found it difficult to wake.
Due to the pill I chose to take.
I still do though it’s not cheap
I take a pill to help me sleep.
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Dedication to medication part one
Ode to my little pink pill
You are my saviour,
And my ultimate downfall.
Like so many little pills
That came before you
The first gave me lisence
To act without consequence
Until a little beige pill
Was needed when you failed
After that while on sabbatical
I had some bigger white pills
With a pessary too
To undo the promiscuity.
Little yellow pill
Tucked up in my gum
You help me stomach myself
Little lozenge pill
You soothe the monsters
That live by my bed
Tiny blue speckled pill
You drench me in annonymity
Till little pink pill
The littlest pink pill
Sings her Seroquel lullaby
And sentences me to sleep.
poem by Vik Harley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Story Of My Old Man
i dont know too much about
too much of my old man
i know he walked right out the door
we never saw him again
last i heard he was at the bar
doing himself in
i know i got that same disease
i guess i got that from him
this is the story of my old man
just like his father before him
i'm telling you do anything you can
so you dont end just like them
like them
monday he woke up and hated life
drank until wednesday and left his wife
thursday through friday lost everything
woke up on sunday miserable again
i remember baseball games
and working on the car
he told me that he loved me
and that i would go far
showed me how to work hard
and stick up for myself
i wish he wasnt too hard
to listen to himself
this is the story of my old man
just like his father before him
i'm telling you do anything you can
so you dont end up just like them
like them
monday he woke up and hated life
drank until wednesday and left his wife
thursday through saturday lost everything
woke up on sunday miserable again
again
again
someday he'll wish that he made things right
made things right
long for his family and miss his wife
miss his wife
remember the days he had everything
everything
now he's alone and miserable again
song performed by by Good Charlotte
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
My Old Man
I dont know much about, too much of my old man
I know he walked right out the door we never saw him again
Last I heard he was at the bar doing himself in
I know I got that same disease, I guess I got that from him
This is the story of my old man
Just like his father before him
Im telling you do anything you can
So you dont end up just like them, like them
Monday he woke up and hated life
Drank until wednesday and left his wife
Thursday thru saturday lost everything
Woke up on sunday miserable again
I remember baseball games and working on the car
He told me that he loved me and that I would go far
Showed me how to work hard and stick up for myself
I wish he wasnt too hard to listen to himself
This is the story of my old man
Just like his father before him
Im telling you do anything you can
So you dont end up just like them, like them
Monday he woke up and hated life
Drank until wednesday and left his wife
Thursday thru saturday lost everything
Woke up on sunday miserable again
Again...again...
Someday hell wish that he made things right (made things right)
Long for his family and miss his wife (miss his wife)
Remember the days he had everything (everything)
Now hes alone and miserable again
song performed by by Good Charlotte
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Wednesday Morning
Written by gerry beckley, 1998
Found on human nature.
Wednesday morning was the last time we talked
I guess she figured it was better if she walked
It couldve been me just the same
Theres no winner in this game
Oh, wednesday morning was the last time we talked
Wednesday evening was the first time she cried
It couldve turned out different if Id lied
Something deep within us all
Sees the writing on the wall
Oh, wednesday evening we didnt talk at all
Ive been waiting every evening
Wondering what Im gonna say
Sometimes life can be deceiving
Wednesday wont go away
It couldve been me just the same
Theres no winner in this game
Oh, wednesday evening and nothing is the same
(oh) Ive been waiting every evening
Wondering what Im gonna say
Sometimes life can be deceiving
Wednesday wont go away
Wednesday morning, yeah
Sometimes life can be deceiving
Wednesday wont go away
Ive been waiting every evening
Wondering what Im gonna say
Sometimes life can be deceiving
Wednesday wont go away, yeah
Wednesday morning, yeah
Sometimes life can be deceiving
Wednesday wont go away
Wednesday morning, yeah
song performed by by America
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Dog Power
Dog Power
Abandoned she was and hungry so I took her home. she was scared and hid under
the kitchen sink. I put water and food out and went to bed. She ate it all.
In the morning she came out and made it clear she wanted to go out. Well she did
her business and came back in. When she was two years old she grabbed a packet
of cigarettes from the table and tore it up. So I stopped smoking. People had
implored me to stop, no awhile, she did the trick. I never liked having visitors in
the evening but was too polite to say so. Well. She fixed that to. The only thing she
hated was having a bath. After having one she pretended I didn’t exist until
neighbour told her how nice she looked. She didn’t like female dogs, male dogs
she made short shrift of. She woke me up in the morning and if I sat still too long
writing she took me for walk. She had trained me so well that the day she died
I felt quite helpless and didn’t know what to do the following day.
poem by Oskar Hansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Early In The Morning
Oh I bet
You were a virgin
'Til you let me
Oh I miss your kiss
When you are gone
I was young and foolish
Didn't know what I was doing
Didn't know I'd lost you
'Til you were gone
Oh I miss your loving
When you are gone
Now I gotta get up
Early in the morning
Find me another lover
Now I've got to get up early
Every morning
'Cos the early bird
Always catches the worm
Now I've got to get up early
Every morning
Got to make up for the
Lesson I learned
Got to find me a lover
Who won't run for cover
Find me a lover
Who won't run for cover
Got to get up
Early in the morning
Find me another lover
Now I gotta get up
Early in the morning
Find me another lover
I was young and foolish
Didn't know what I was doing
Didn't know I'd lost you
'Til you'd gone
She had a pretty face
Drove me wild
I even wanted her to have my child
song performed by by Robert Palmer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Dust
the old man puttered around his bushes...
taking his time, ... time was all he had left.
since his wife had died, it seemed like everything
was suspended. just him and the dog now, and
the dog was old and blind.
Maria watched him. everyday the same thing, in
his yard, or walking his dog. she thought to herself,
'that's just sadness walking...'
Maria was 28, never married, kinda plain, but clean.
her boy Tyler was seven, a boy's boy, and in school.
she put the pie in the oven, and walked over to the
coffeepot. she paused for a moment, then poured
two cups, and walked out the door.
'hey, George, want a cup of coffee? '
'thank you, dont mind if i do.'
they exchanged small talk...after a bit the old man said,
'getting a little tired, gonna have to sit down. you wanna
come in? '
'yea, just for a bit.'
they went in the back door, and sat down at the kitchen
table. she noticed things were a little dusty, but otherwise
ok. there was a stillness that permeated the house.
there were pictures on the wall, mostly family pictures,
most in black and white.
'how're your kids? '
' ok i guess, dont hear from them much. every now and then
they'll call and tell me how the grandkids are doing...'
she opened the Bible on the table. 'guess you read this a lot/'
'used to... now i dont see so well to read anymore.'
she looked down to where she had opened the Bible. a passage
was marked. 'to everything there is a season...' she closed the
book
'guess you get awful lonely? '
'not so bad during the day, pretty bad at night...'
'i just put a strawberry pie in the oven... maybe tonite after i put
Tyler to bed, i'll bring you a piece.'
'thank you, i'd appreciate that! '
she walked back across the road, wondering what he ate, or if...
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Telomenes
Cells generate, repair and degenerate.
Cells divide and produce new cells and die.
Teomenes present in the chromosomes
Are spent at every new cell division
And when telomenes are totally spent,
The cells die. Thus comes aging and death.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Early Mornin'
Early mornin'
All right, I was out real late last night
Got a little messy
Early morning
Can't be like that anymore, oh
I was shaking my ass in the streets this morning
Just walked in and it's early morning
Bump, bump till the break of dawn and
It don't stop till the early morning
Passed out on the couch I'm yawning
Just walked in and it's early morning
Bump, bump till the break of dawn and
It don't stop till the early morning
Wanna talk to
When he walked up someone grabbed him
But I liked him to come here
Kinda cool
Baby, we can make plans
Where ya live
Does your mama live there
We can hook up at the hotel
Hands down so
I told him, let's go
But waht happened next, guess?
But you don't wanna know
I was shaking my ass in the streets this morning
Just walked in and it's early morning
Bump, bump till the break of dawn and
It don't stop till the early morning
Passed out on the couch I'm yawning
Just walked in and it's early morning
Bump, bump till the break of dawn and
It don't stop till the early morning
Oh, in love
So I approached him
We gotta give him his friends
There's something bout him that show
So I said, what the hell
Let's go
Got up, got on the dance floor
Hooked up with a guy named Joe
When the music was fast and slow
But waht happened next, guess?
But you don't wanna know
I was shaking my ass in the streets this morning
Just walked in and it's early morning
Bump, bump till the break of dawn and
It don't stop till the early morning
Passed out on the couch I'm yawning
Just walked in and it's early morning
Bump, b
song performed by by Britney Spears
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Wednesday Morning Silence
At eleven O’clock in the morning,
I sit experiencing the stillness
of a Wednesday morning silence coming down.
It seems much earlier,
though the day is half done
after a fun filled Tuesday
that lasted long into the night.
I sit experiencing the stillness
and wondering in the silence
after the rain had come down.
The absent drip of raindrops
sounds like time ticking away
in the Wednesday morning silence coming down.
Sitting on my friends deck
as a cooling breeze rustles the leaves
in the silence of the morning
as I wait for everyone to wake
in a Wednesday Morning silence coming down
while I am on holiday.
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Darkness
I can dream up schemes when I'm sitting in my seat
I don't see any flaws 'till I get to my feet
I wish I never woke up this morning
Life was easy when it was pouring
I could make a mark if it weren't so dark
I could be replaced by any bright spark
But darkness makes me fumble
For a key
To a door
That's wide open
Instead of worrying about my clothes
I could be someone that nobody knows
I wish I never woke up this morning
Life was easy when it was pouring
I can dream up schemes when I'm sitting in my seat
I don't see any flaws 'till I get to my feet
I wish I never woke up this morning
Life was easy when it was pouring
I wish I never woke up this morning
Life was easy when it was pouring
song performed by by Police
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Start And End Song
I will start my early morning with a nice warm cup of coffee
That will make me up fast
And that will take all my tiredness away
Because coffe works like a magic pill for me
And keeps me backon truck again
But it also helps me to stay alert for the day
Eventhought the weather doesn't look very promising outside
So I have to take my mind away from the weather
And concentrate more on me
Because the weather can't do much for me
And I understand now that the weather has its own mind
And I have mine
So I have to stay focus on my life and on my daily jouney
I need to go for some walks early in the morning
And grab a free cofee at Macdonald's
poem by Aldo Kraas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
On a Sunday Morning Sidewalk
On a Sunday morning sidewalk
in a brief, refreshing, rain
I awaken, quite hung over,
My eyes closed against the pain.
The fresh mowed grass of someone's lawn
Damp with the morning dew
Reminds the brain cells I have left
that last night I downed a few.
A dark figure now looms over me-
Is it there to damn or save?
No it's just the barkeeps Labrador
as he gives my face a lave.
I was nearly frightened sober -
And I was still drunk with Grog-
I'd prefer a friendly Saint Bernard
bringing a 'hair of the dog.'
The Labrador looked down on me,
a sodden drunken mess.
In my wife's eyes I would never find
That canines kind forgiveness..
poem by John F. McCullagh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Coffee
Sometimes life is merely a matter of coffee and whatever intimacy a cup of coffee
affords. I once read something about coffee. The thing said that coffee is good for you;
it stimulates all the organs.
I thought at first this was a strange way to put it, and not altogether pleasant, but
as time goes by I have found out that it makes sense in its own limited way. I'll tell you
what I mean.
Yesterday morning I went over to see a girl. I like her. Whatever we had going for us
is gone now. She does not care for me. I blew it and wish I hadn't.
I rang the door bell and waited on the stairs. I could hear her moving around upstairs.
The way she moved I could tell that she was getting up. I had awakened her.
Then she came down the stairs. I could feel her approach in my stomach. Every step she
took stirred my feelings and lead indirectly to her opening the door. She saw me and it
did not please her.
Once upon a time it pleased her very much, last week. I wonder where it went,
pretending to be naive.
"I feel strange now," she said. "I don't want to talk."
"I want a cup of coffee," I said, because it was the last thing in the world
that I wanted. I said it in such a way that it sounded as if I were reading her a telegram
from somebody else, a person who really wanted a cup of coffee, who cared about nothing
else.
"All right," she said.
I followed her up the stairs. It was ridiculous. She had just put some clothes on. They
had not quite adjusted themselves to her body. I could tell you about her ass. We went
into the kitchen.
She took a jar of instant coffee off the shelf and put it on the table. She placed a
cup next to it, and a spoon. I looked at them. She put a pan full of water on the stove
and turned the gas on under it.
All this time she did not say a word. Her clothes adjusted themselves to her body. I
won't. She left the kitchen.
Then she went down the stairs and outside to see if she had any mail. I didn't remember
seeing any. She came back up the stairs and went into another room. She closed the door
after her. I looked at the pan full of water on the stove.
I knew that it would take a year before the water started to boil. It was now October
and there was too much water in the pan. That was the problem. I threw half of the water
into the sink.
The water would boil faster now. It would take only six months. The house was quiet.
I looked out the back porch. There were sacks of garbage there. I stared at the garbage
and tried to figure out what she had been eating lately by studying the containers and
peelings and stuff. I couldn't tell a thing.
It was now March. The water started to boil. I was pleased by this.
I looked at the table. There was the jar of instant coffee, the empty cup and the spoon
all laid out like a funeral service. These are the things that you need to make a cup of
coffee.
When I left the house ten minutes later, the cup of coffee safely inside me like a
grave, I said, "Thank you for the cup of coffee."
"You're welcome," she said. Her voice came from behind a closed door. Her
voice sounded like another telegram. It was really time for me to leave.
I spent the rest of the day not making coffee. It was a comfort. And evening came, I
had dinner in a restaurant and went to a bar. I had some drinks and talked to some people.
We were bar people and said bar things. None of them remembered, and the bar closed. It
was two o'clock in the morning. I had to go outside. It was foggy and cold in San
Francisco. I wondered about the fog and felt very human and exposed.
I decided to go visit another girl. We had not been friends for over a year. Once we
were very close. I wondered what she was thinking about now.
I went to her house. She didn't have a door bell. That was a small victory. One must
keep track of all the small victories. I do, anyway.
She answered the door. She was holding a robe in front of her. She didn't believe that
she was seeing me. "What do you want?" she said, believing now that she was
seeing me. I walked right into the house.
She turned and closed the door in such a way that I could see her profile. She had not
bothered to wrap the robe completely around herself. She was just holding the robe in
front of herself.
I could see an unbroken line of body running from her head to her feet. It looked kind
of strange. Perhaps because it was so late at night.
"What do you want?" she said.
"I want a cup of coffee," I said. What a funny thing to say, to say again for
a cup of coffee was not what I really wanted.
She looked at me and wheeled slightly on the profile. She was not pleased to see me.
Let the AMA tell us that time heals. I looked at the unbroken line of her body.
"Why don't you have a cup of coffee with me?" I said. "I feel like
talking to you. We haven't talked for a long time."
She looked at me and wheeled slightly on the profile. I stared at the unbroken line of
her body. This was not good.
"It's too late," she said. "I have to get up in the morning. If you want
a cup of coffee, there's instant in the kitchen. I have to go to bed."
The kitchen light was on. I looked down the hall into the kitchen. I didn't feel like
going into the kitchen and having another cup of coffee by myself. I didn't feel like
going to anybody else's house and asking them for a cup of coffee.
I realized that the day had been committed to a very strange pilgrimage, and I had not
planned it that way. At least the jar of instant coffee was not on the table, beside an
empty white cup and a spoon.
They say in the spring a young man's fancy turns to thoughts of love. Perhaps if he has
enough time left over, his fancy can even make room for a cup of coffee.
poem by Richard Brautigan from Revenge of the Lawn (1971)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
Vote! | Copy!