Lullaby
It is a summer evening.
The yellow moths sag
against the locked screens
and the faded curtains
suck over the window sills
and from another building
a goat calls in his dreams.
This is the TV parlor
in the best ward at Bedlam.
The night nurse is passing
out the evening pills.
She walks on two erasers,
padding by us one by one.
My sleeping pill is white.
It is a splendid pearl;
it floats me out of myself,
my stung skin as alien
as a loose bolt of cloth.
I will ignore the bed.
I am linen on a shelf.
Let the others moan in secret;
let each lost butterfly
go home. Old woolen head,
take me like a yellow moth
while the goat calls hush-a-bye.
poem by Anne Sexton
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Related quotes
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
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Memories In Yellow
In August, she hung yellow curtains in the window
She danced and sang along to the radio
She flung paint across a canvas and
Laughed when the walls were splattered
And when she awoke in his arms
They were bathed in the yellow light from the window.
In August, she put yellow flowers on the table
She smiled at the fingered shadows they cast on the floor
She sketched them on every page of a notebook and
Drew them in the margins of her newspaper
And when she looked into the mirror
She saw yellow flowers reflected in the glass.
In August, a yellow cat lived in the alleyway
She scratched its ears until it purred
She took photographs of the sunlight on its fur and
Thought about beginnings and endings
And, in the dark of the night, lost in dreams,
She journeyed with the yellow cat to desert sands.
December comes
Curtains fall,
lovers leave.
Flowers fade,
mirrors crack.
Cats wander,
and deserts
become oceans.
poem by Frumious Bandersnatch
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Village Marriage Day
With a long fine cloud
She wandered slowly away
Across the yellow mouth of morning
Through another gate-head
Where the withered maize-stems made
Leaves for folded dolls.
The backyard
Should be smeared this year.
She approaches her father
His hands bloodstained
The goat’s head laid back
On its tenuous link to the body.
She looks at the goat
Turns over the night of love
Her sleek tilted head remembers
The other art of marriage
For which he said she must prepare.
poem by Frank Bana
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Images Of The Past
Image 1
A big white horse
Galloping
All four feet hanging in mid-air
On the ground below it
A yellow butterfly
A broken wing.
Image ii
A dirty boy chases a dirty pig
His dirty father chases both
While mother hides her face
Behind a black umbrella.
Image iii
I see on the ceiling a little spider, a lizard
And a white moth
The faded yellow fluorescent bulb blinks
I blink too
The little spider is gone and the moth flew away.
Image iv
A girl on a swing swinging high on air
Her left slipper left in space
Rightly so
Captured still in the middle of air
The two of us look we did not move
Like a Flemish painting
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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As It Was Written
Earth, earth,
riding your merry-go-round
toward extinction,
right to the roots,
thickening the oceans like gravy,
festering in your caves,
you are becoming a latrine.
Your trees are twisted chairs.
Your flowers moan at their mirrors,
and cry for a sun that doesn't wear a mask.
Your clouds wear white,
trying to become nuns
and say novenas to the sky.
The sky is yellow with its jaundice,
and its veins spill into the rivers
where the fish kneel down
to swallow hair and goat's eyes.
All in all, I'd say,
the world is strangling.
And I, in my bed each night,
listen to my twenty shoes
converse about it.
And the moon,
under its dark hood,
falls out of the sky each night,
with its hungry red mouth
to suck at my scars.
poem by Anne Sexton
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A spring evening
Outside the irises flower yellow and purple
and I haven’t seen a red one yet
and there are some pink and white blossoms
on the fruit trees
and the streetlights burn continually
glowing orange-yellow
all day and all night
as if the municipality
does not know how to do things right
and in the fading evening light
the moon is full and white
and the evening star is already shining bright
and a hot breeze sweeps in
through the open windows
and I wonder when the first spring rain
is going to fall
and in the distance I see thunder
crashing down
in blue-white flashes, but the storm
is blown away and again the sky is clear
and the black speckled by stars.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Treacle Brown
1)
Sunlight breeze , wind filled trees
And all the time , its ten oclock
And all is well
The clock is young and time will tell
2)
Yellow stars , bright because
Far away my ears can hear the village bell
Its twelve oclock and all is well
Chorus:
Me and my little white mountain goat
And the seas , all fields around
Me and my little white mountain goat
With his eyes all treacle brown
Repeat verses 1,2 and chorus
song performed by by Bee Gees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Little Yellow Butterfly
Oh, liitle yellow butterfly
to this lonely house
please come in
and let your shadow
fill the empty wall
as I watch closely
till I fall asleep.
Oh, little yellow butterfly
to this lonely house
please come in
and change the color of my life
with your tiny yellow wings.
Oh, little yellow butterfly
to this lonely house
please come in
I have prepared flowers for you
so you can stay with me
without being lonely.
Oh, little yellow butterfly
to this lonely house
please come in.
poem by Marites C. Cayetano
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Evening Coconut
The statue of liberty is breathing in the air
Atlantis is waiting down below.
Late at night, flashing lights are sighted in the air.
Its no secret, what everybody knows.
It really dont matter much, which way I go.
But remember to pull over in the storm.
Have you seen the evening coconut
Bobbing on the bay?
Standing on the waters edge of stone
Someone there besides you
To hear the words you say
To show you things your eyes have never known.
Evening coconut, evening coconut
Evening coconut, evening coconut
Evening coconut, evening coconut
Evening coconut, evening coconut
Evening coconut, evening coconut
The statue of liberty is breathing in the air
While atlantis is waiting down below.
Late at night, flashing lights are sighted in the air.
Its no secret, what everybody knows.
Evening coconut, evening coconut
Evening coconut, evening coconut
Evening coconut, evening coconut
Evening coconut, evening coconut
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Gentle Sigh
There is a gentle sigh
as a warm summer evening calls
and lovers slip away
to their hideaways.
The stars twinkle bright
playing peek-a-boo with the moon
and not a stirring word is heard,
except the gentle sigh
that inherits the breeze
that faintly rustles the leaves
on a warm summer evening
just before darkness calls.
The world sings a hushaby melody
to children tucked in their bed
waiting for the sandman to call
and for a few minutes,
everything is still
listening to the gentle sigh
when warm summer evenings call.
poem by David Harris
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The Yellow Ribbon On The Old Oak Tree
who can forget the yellow ribbon
on that old oak tree? tell me.
tomorrow, i shall wear my yellow cap
my yellow shirt, my yellow brief,
my yellow pants.
my jaundiced eye, my golden yellow ring.
tomorrow, in my country, the sky is yellow.
all steps lead to the yellow brick road.
all fruits are ripe and mellow and yellow.
Tomorrow, the country is yellow.
Yellow for integrity, Yellow for change.
Yellow for justice. Yellow for truth.
One day more, and the sun shall rise
Yellow as ever.Yellow forever.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Red Frame/white Light
Red frame white light
Telephone box
Red on grey
Six three two three double o three
Red frame white light
You have a gray book
On a metal shelf
Red frame white light
Numbered calls
Selected places
Red frame white light
Telephone calls
Black and white
Red frame white light
You have a yellow book
With averts
Red frame white light
There is a black lead to a dial and phone
Red frame white light
Six three two three double o three
song performed by by Omd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Restive
that early morning
when the sun just comes up
from the mountain side
rising to
the cone top
a yellow butterfly as tiny
as my nail
flutters over a red rose petal
holding still
on a dew
slowing down
this small world where i live
becomes a home
my nerves rearrange their postures
resolving
an entanglement
now restive like a goat under
a sycamore tree
chewing grass
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Frances 7
Fluttering
Moving lightly swiftly flying darting skimming
Like a yellow butterfly flitting passing flitting
From flower to flower from tree to tree
From cloud to cloud passing quickly
To depart then die this yellow butterfly
I have never heard it sing I have never heard it cry
Flitting fluttering lightly fluttering this lonely happy yellow butterfly!
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Pay The Price
I try to keep your name
And still get rid of your face
I hate to be by myself
All locked away in this place
You turn me inside out
You turn me outside in
Around and upside down
A rollercoaster within
Pay the price of love
When he calls for you
Youve got to
Pay the price of love
When he calls for you
I grab my big black book
And call the numbers I know
Something is melting this town
Like it was all made of snow
You turn me inside out
You turn me outside in
Around and up and down
The elevator within
Pay the price of love (ooh la la la)
When he calls for you
Youve got to
Pay the price of love (ooh la la la)
When he calls for you
Spending the evening alone
With the 10 oclock news
Looking at you through the holes
In the soles of my old brown shoes
song performed by by Roxette
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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At Glan-y-Wern
White-robed against the threefold white
Of shutter, glass and curtains' lace,
She flashed into the evening light
The brilliance of her gipsy face:
I saw the evening in her light.
Clear, from the soft hair to the mouth,
Her ardent face made manifest
The sultry beauty of the South:
Below, a red rose, climbing, pressed
Against the roses of her mouth.
So, in the window's threefold white,
O'ertrailed with foliage like a bower,
She seemed, against the evening light,
Amongst the flowers herself a flower,
A tiger-lily sheathed in white.
poem by Arthur Symons
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Be Here In The Morning
Its been such a long day so you better hurry home
Lit all my incense and I wish you were home
Only five minutes and you walk through my door
Be here in the morning
Be here in the evening
Be here and make my life full
Be here in the morning
Be here in the evening
Be here and make my life
Stay here on the weekend and unplug the phone
(alright then)
No calls from korthoff, parks, or grillo
I only hope that you come here alone
Be here in the morning
Be here in the evening
Be here and make my life full
Be here in the morning
Be here in the evening
Be here and make my life
Be here in the morning
Be here in the evening
Be here and make my life
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Be Here In The Mornin'
It's been such a long day so you better hurry home
Lit all my incense and i wish you were home
Only five minutes and you walk through my door
Be here in the morning
Be here in the evening
Be here and make my life full
Be here in the morning
Be here in the evening
Be here and make my life
Stay here on the weekend and unplug the phone
(alright then)
No calls from korthoff, parks, or grillo
I only hope that you come here alone
Be here in the morning
Be here in the evening
Be here and make my life full
Be here in the morning
Be here in the evening
Be here and make my life
Be here in the morning
Be here in the evening
Be here and make my life
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Situationer.....
he has been writing
he is thinking and then she calls him for dinner
there is a blackout
and she lights a candle so he can see the fumes of steamed rice
the green color of braised morning glory
he is silent and she does not ask
she does not know whether he has been writing a lot
whether he is lost in the maze of his thoughts
she has cooked dinner for him
she calls his name
it is dinner time and that is the most important hour
she trusts him
he is dying
the needed light for the evening did not come
there are no stars outside the window
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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She Still Calls His Name
Summer moonlight shines
On a midnight train
Lost in emotion she cries
To the wind and the rain
In silence she feels the breeze
No mercy tonight
The passion and promise has made
Life broken inside
She stills calls his name
She cant get home
She stills calls his name
Broken hearted
Another town rolls by
As a distant rose
And wonderin what she will find
When she gets home
You, theres a part in flame
But a careless heart
Dreams are an open game
Will tear you apart
She stills calls his name
Shes out of control
She stills calls his name
Broken hearted
One love comes of the rest
A bed of roses was a bed of nails
Dont take the blame forever
Just give it time
song performed by by Uriah Heep
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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