En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Riding On A Motorcycle On A Sunday Afternoon

back to my trails
yellow daisies along the road
orange skies above me
yellow has mellowed
dusty like a veil
of a woman
i traverse this road
on a motorcyle
the sound of the engine
like a rhythm of the
tonky machine

inside my helmet
my head disregards the
heat this hot sunday
afternoon moving
towards an end

i still think of you
ahead of me
on an edge of time
too close
we shall not meet
again

poem by Antonio Liao
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Paths Of Victory

Trails of troubles,
Roads of battles,
Paths of victory,
I shall walk.
The trail is dusty
And my road it might be rough,
But the better roads are waiting
And boys it aint far off.
Trails of troubles,
Roads of battles,
Paths of victory,
We shall walk.
I walked down by the river,
I turned my head up high.
I saw that silver linin
That was hangin in the sky.
Trails of troubles,
Roads of battles,
Paths of victory,
We shall walk.
The evenin dusk was rollin,
I was walking down the track.
There was a one-way wind a-blowin
And it was blowin at my back.
Trails of troubles,
Roads of battles,
Paths of victory,
We shall walk.
The gravel road is bumpy,
Its a hard road to ride,
But theres a clearer road a-waitin
With the cinders on the side.
Trails of troubles,
Roads of battles,
Paths of victory,
We shall walk.
That evening train was rollin,
The hummin of its wheels,
My eyes they saw a better day
As I looked across the fields.
Trails of troubles,
Roads of battles,
Paths of victory,
We shall walk.
The trail is dusty,
The road it might be rough,
But the good road is a-waitin
And boys it aint far off.
Trails of troubles,
Roads of battles,
Paths of victory,
We shall walk.

song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Yellow Brick Road of Life

Yellow means wisdom, bricks are challenges,
Getting off the yellow road is getting into problems, open spaces.
At the end of the yellow road we find what we always looked for,
The truth, the power is within us, not in any counselor.

We have to step through all the yellow bricks,
Solve each challenges, find wisdom, & never believe in the statistics.
Go through all problems, if we solve them well, we become wiser,
Weakling no longer, better, healthier, richer and stronger.

If we fall out of the yellow brick road we loose time,
Running away from life, stagnate, get into grime.
Some of us makes it back and learns more wisdom,
Some withers away in sickness, alcohol, drugs and do not blossom.

However, if we get to the end and we find the answer,
We'll continue on the yellow brick road as a seasoned traveler.
We'll find wisdom to face life and find true happiness,
By calling everything 'good', all turns into real success.

poem by LaSoaphia QuXazs
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Yellow Man

Very far away in a foreign land
Live the yellow woman and the yellow man
Hes been around for many-a-year
They say they were there before we were here
Eatin rice all day
While the children play
You see he believes
In the family
Just like you and me
Oh, yellow man, oh, yellow man
We understand, you know we understand
He keeps his money tight in his hand
With his yellow woman hes a yellow man
Got to have a yellow woman
When youre a yellow man

song performed by by Randy Newman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Woman Machine

She'll do your work in half the time
Never sick and can't go blind
Oh, woman machine
Brains of tape that fill her head
She knows more now than all the dead
Oh, woman machine
Oh, woman machine
Oh, woman machine
Oh, woman machine
Oh, woman machine
Heart of steel and skin that's cold
Can't wear her out, she can't grow old
Oh, woman machine
She goes to bed when her work is through
She'll do it all, just change the tubes
Oh, woman machine
Oh, woman machine
Oh, woman machine
Oh, woman machine
Oh, woman machine-ine
Oh, woman machine
Oh, woman machine
Oh, woman machine
Oh, woman
She can't talk back
With no playback
But she'll listen
To all your woe
Trade your old one
For a new one
They just don't make 'em like they used to
No!
Oh, woman machine
Oh, woman machine
Oh, woman machine
Oh, woman machine
''...exceeds one million when the stop button is pressed,
the... has results PCR621, into the drayer reading pool
to hold the relay on for one quarter second after the
Q603 deenergizes. Therefore, the time delay occurs only
when the stop button is pressed, during the record nine.
The sole function of the capacitor c620 is to maintain
charge in

song performed by by Alice Cooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Further On

Where the road is dark
and the seat is soaked
where the gun is cocked
and the bullet's cold
where the miles are marked in blood and gold
I'll meet you further on up the road
Got on my dead man's suit
and my smilin' skull ring
my lucky graveyard boots
and a song to sing
I got a song to sing, keep me out of the cold
and I'll meet you further on up the road
Further on up the road
further on up the road
where the way is dark
and the night is cold
but one sunny morning we'll rise, I know
and I'll meet you further on up the road
Well I been out in the desert
was doin' my time
searching through the dust
looking for a sign
if there's a light up ahead
well, buddy, I don't know
but I got this fever
burning in my soul
so let's take the good times as they come
and I'll meet you further on up the road
Further on up the road
further on up the road
where the way is dark
and the night is cold
one sunny morning we'll rise, I know
and I'll meet you further on up the road
one sunny morning we'll rise, I know
and I'll meet you further on up the road
yeah I'll meet you further on up the road
well I'll meet you further on up the road

song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Further On (Up The Road)

Where the road is dark
And the seat is soaked
Where the gun is cocked
And the bullets cold
Where the miles are marked in blood and gold
Ill meet you further on up the road
Got on my dead mans suit
And my smilin skull ring
My lucky graveyard boots
And a song to sing
I got a song to sing, keep me out of the cold
And Ill meet you further on up the road
Further on up the road
Further on up the road
Where the way is dark
And the night is cold
But one sunny morning well rise, I know
And Ill meet you further on up the road
Well I been out in the desert
Was doin my time
Searching through the dust
Looking for a sign
If theres a light up ahead
Well, buddy, I dont know
But I got this fever
Burning in my soul
So lets take the good times as they come
And Ill meet you further on up the road
Further on up the road
Further on up the road
Where the way is dark
And the night is cold
One sunny morning well rise, I know
And Ill meet you further on up the road
One sunny morning well rise, I know
And Ill meet you further on up the road
Yeah Ill meet you further on up the road
Well Ill meet you further on up the road

song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dusty Road

I walk the line, look straight ahead
A second chance, one slip and its gone
Though the bird has flown, the sands of time stand still
Scars that never heal, wounds you always feel
Keep on walking that dusty road, blinded by the flame
Keep on walking that dusty road, never giving in
A single light, you hold your breath
Your heart beats fast, a skin that burns
Maybe the tide has turned, one goal you know is near
And wish of a thousand nights, voices you always hear
So keep on walking that dusty road, blinded by the flame
Keep on walking that dusty road, never giving in

song performed by by Asia
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Two Distant Worlds

who does not like to put some
yellow daisies on your black glossy hair?

you become so beautiful with a chain of yellow
daisies in your hair

where i can possibly touch them and caress them
and how would you know that this is more than just putting a chain of
daisies in your black hair?

you shall never know and that is good enough for me
for i am the simplest man that puts those chain of yellow daisies in your hair

no prince charming for you, nothing special
just another common friend putting those usual yellow daisies in your hair

when our hands touch by accident
how would you know that i have become a forest burning?

this burning fire that is softly killing me
how would you know? your world is open and mine is closed.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Road We're On

'It's all a road we build'
he said
'you lay down the concrete
or tar for the asphalt;

you heat it
and take it through all the stages
with yellow lines
white lines-
a road has to have
boundaries and destinations.

There are the road signs:
'caution'
'soft shoulder'
'curves ahead'
'pedestrians'
'stop ahead'
'divided highway.'
'no u-turns.'
'highway patrol station

The thought
is whether the road we build
is our own
and whether it leads where we
want to go
and who on the road
we're traveling with.

Just like life.
Up and down hills;
speed bumps
parking lots
long rides

The trick is not to be
a highway statistic
didn't see the stop sign
ran over too many pedestrians.
or a high speed causality
best to hope for soft shoulders
and broad lanes
and the laughter of friends
as the sun shines overhead
taking us
home.

poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Homeward Looking Angel

She saw the ragged edge of nowhere from a fast moving train
watched the by with a fever in her brain
seemed like a good time at the time rolling down that track
now the only thing she wants is a one-way ticket back
(Chorus)
She's a homeward looking angel and she's feeling mighty tired
her party dress is tattered but her vision is inspired
(She went gunning for glory but her bullets all misfired)
and that girl looking back in the mirror ,Lord, made such a mess of things
she's leaving in the morning soon as she can find her wings
She's so hungry at heart for a piece of mama's pie
Served up on gradmna's china
after church on sunday night
Pap's proubably turning out
the light and heading up the stairs
and the wayward child he never talked about still turns up in his prayers
(Chorus)
there's the road ahead and the road behind
all roads lead to home this time
(Chorus)

song performed by by Pam Tillis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Field Of Yellow Daisies

We met in a field of yellow daisies
Wild and young and free
And she picked a bouquet for me
She loved me...she loved me not
The daisies didn't lie
They knew better than I...she'd go away..yeah
But they didn't say why
Have you ever been in a field of yellow daisies
Where the air is warm, pure and sweet
Just as if the world is at your feet
She loved me...she loved me not
The daisies didn't lie
They knew better than I
She'd go away.....yeah
But they didn't say why
I may fail like petals from a daisy
But for her love I'll always yearn
Each year when yellow daisies return
She loved me...she loved me not
The daisies didn't lie
They knew better than I
She'd go away.....yeahhhh
But they didn't say why
They didn't say why
They didn't say why
They didn't say why
They didn't say why
They didn't say why
They didn't say why.........

song performed by by Tom Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Shift in Perception 2

I used to hate colour yellow.
It made my complexion look sallow.
And reminded me of jaundiced eyes,
Stubborn stains that won’t go despite
Trying every trick.
It used to make me sick.

Ugly yellow top cabs,
Yellow fumes in chemistry lab,
But now that I have mellowed
I have spotted beautiful yellows.

It is the colour of spring and sunshine,
That is our life line.
Bright mustard fields,
Sunny daffodils,
Cheerful sunflowers,
Clusters of Amaltas,

Marigolds and yellow roses,
Daisies and buttercups,
Elegant yellow glaidioli,
That fascinate me as I pass by
And feel compelled to stop
at the florists shop.

Butter scotch ice cream,
Mango sliced and diced.
Golden yellow apples,
And musk melons,
Pale yellow peach liqueur,
A must after dinner.

Yellow candle flames,
Brass temple bells,
Brightest colour of the spectrum
It catches everyone’s attention
It’s the colour that now lifts my mood
How could I hate it I find myself brood

Just a change in mental association
How it alters one’s perception.

poem by Mamta Agarwal
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Rhythm Machine

I'm a rhythm machine; you know what I mean,
I'm a rhythm machine; you know what I mean
I got time, running through my
head in bed,
Instead of sleep, how it looks instead,
I'm a rhythm machine; you know what I mean,
I'm a music man; I play the blues whenever I can,
I'm a music man; I play the blues whenever I can,
I get a flat backbeat, instead of food when I eat,
The ticking of a clock gets me out of my seat
I'm a music man; I play the blues whenever I can.
I'm her cross cut saw before I
was four
Smoked-staked lightning had me crawling across the floor
The beach ball didn't get me but that son-in-law did
I'm been keeping time ever since I was a kid
I'm a music machine, don't you know what I mean,
I'm rhythm machine; he knows what I mean, oh.
Yeah, yeah.
I'm a rhythm machine; I'm a rhythm machine,
I'm a rhythm machine, don't you know what I mean
I'm a music man, yeah,
I'm gonna play the blues whenever I can,
Hey, play the blues then,
Oh, yeah, yeah, play it for Kings and Queens,
Yeah, yeah, I'm a music man,
I'm a rhythm machine......

song performed by by Bad Company
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Manse Gate

At a wave of his hand, with his eye on the traffic,
Underneath his yellow helmet head,
the bulldozer, lifting its beak
Came down upon the old Manse gate,
And in a second, with its pillars
And walls, were rubble for the road,
foundation.
Contributing to its raiso d'etre, passe.

you leave Marlay Park, on the Grange Road side,
the exit gate, facing what was a Manse,
you could have seen it,
a status of Gentry.

Those walls kept in an ethos,
those gate let in a class,
of carriages and conversation.

To a long, winding, Elms driveway,
the Manse well gone.

And now the gates too,
at the dropp of a hand, the wave,
of a young man, helmetted in yellow,
And a cigarette swinging in the spare hand,
as the clear road allows the beak of progress
move away a century of style.

Then he looks to wave me on,
And holding in his hand, pulling on the
smoke,
nods the beak towards the wall,
the highways now ready for foundation.
History is history at a glance.

poem by Bernard Kennedy
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Late autumn

The yellow veldt, the skeleton chestnut trees
specs of orange-red aloes in the kopje
are near to the old white house
and in the late afternoon shades draw long lines

while I walk up to the house on the red-brown dirt road
and most of the flowers in the garden are stripped bare
but a few irises are flowering yellow,
purple and cream brown

and the sky is dull blue and the early evening cold
is already on the wind that is rustling everything
and after years I open the garden gate
are coming back to my childhood home

stripped from illusions,
and I am bare from the childhood innocence
but full of hope
and looking through a mature man’s eyes.

poem by Gert Strydom
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Yesterday And Today***(What About Tomorrow?)

The dusty lanes of yesterday
....Have been repaved with Concrete
...Nothing Iffy about my steps....
....In this day of loves bittersweet!

Back in the day of Rose coloured glasses
...Back in the day of the yellow
...Brick Road...
Back in the day when i could do no wrong, ha!
...Has been replaced by a heavier
...Load...

I carry it with me upon my shoulders
...Broad and strong and tough
...Skinned...
Remembering all of my yesterdays
...Recalling the situations i was in

Those dusty days and lanes are gone now
...Reality has bore her oft' ugly
...Head...
And so i take softer and slower steps
...Remembering all the wrongs
...That i said...
For back in the days of yore
...Back in the days of
...Before...
I was my very own worst enemy
...Always act before i would
...See...
And end up emotionally, and totally information poor

poem by Theodora Onken
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Freedom Through Wisdom

Today 'freedom' is a misunderstood word,
There are many ways to translate its worth.
Many thinks they are free, but we can question that,
Each must walk on the yellow brick road to understand the bet.

In this life we are all walking on or beside the yellow brick road,
Since yellow means wisdom, we learn lessons one by one in a special mode
Sometimes we learn, sometimes just stagnate on some way,
Fighting with others, take smoke, drugs, alcohol or as he/she may.

However, if we find the right faith in the Power of the Universe,
By arriving at the end of the yellow road we can transverse.
We'll reborn without dying finding what we always suppressed,
We can love life, forever be free and blessed.

Fearless to face our problems and call them all 'good',
We'll know all are lessons; we have to solve them as we could,
Eventually we understand all was necessary for us to grow,
Become better, stronger, and wiser by overcoming each woe.

We'll find that nobody can force us to understand,
Each of us has to arrive to the answer without force or bend,
Then we can continue walking on the yellow brick road,
In peace, true happiness, learn lessons and hope each will be a light load.

poem by LaSoaphia QuXazs
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A Poem After A Walk This Afternoon

dust on my feet on my rubber shoes
stamp a mound of mud drying itself
the afternoon sun so hot
this little boy follows me with his gaze
did i appear so big to his attention
or the world is too small for him to play ball?

we look amazed to the same birds
too playing in the skies chasing the ones
not having the same feathers

the sun sets spreading orange colors
waning and now sprinkles some gray hues
the boys playing basketball sweat like they
were bathing on the rain, their bodies gleaming
like some barbecue on spiced oil

time to go home, it is dark, i have no reason to stay
the little boy follows me towards the road
where the flourescent light is turned on by the guards

then i look back, the boy was gone
the whole block is lost eaten by this night
and on the island of light on this road
i stand, waiting for my ride back home

then i look back again, i smile a while
that little boy was me, i got lost somehow

i touch my head, i am setting a new perspective

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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New Perspective

dust on my feet on my rubber shoes
stamp a mound of mud drying itself
the afternoon sun so hot
this little boy follows me with his gaze
did I appear so big to his attention
or the world is too small for him to play ball?

we look amazed to the same birds
too playing in the skies chasing the ones
not having the same feathers

the sun sets spreading orange colors
waning and now sprinkles some gray hues
the boys playing basketball sweat like they
were bathing on the rain, their bodies gleaming
like some barbecue on spiced oil

time to go home, it is dark, I have no reason to stay
the little boy follows me towards the road
where the fluorescent light is turned on by the guards

then I look back, the boy was gone
the whole block is lost eaten by this night
and on the island of light on this road
I stand, waiting for my ride back home

then I look back again, I smile a while
that little boy was me, I got lost somehow

I touch my head, I am setting a new perspective

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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