Adelaide Crapsey
Among the bumble-bees in red-top hay, a freckled field of brown-eyed Susans dripping yellow leaves in July,
I read your heart in a book.
And your mouth of blue pansy—I know somewhere I have seen it rain-shattered.
And I have seen a woman with her head flung between her naked knees, and her head held there listening to the sea, the great naked sea shouldering a load of salt.
And the blue pansy mouth sang to the sea:
Mother of God, I’m so little a thing,
Let me sing longer,
Only a little longer.
And the sea shouldered its salt in long gray combers hauling new shapes on the beach sand.
poem by Carl Sandburg
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Related quotes
Me And The Sea
do not expect me to wear
a G-string when i decide to take my swim
i always go naked.
I like always to feel the sea
all over my body
i plunge myself
and feel the nakedness of the sea
too
it's water all over me
all around me
naked sea to my naked body
you know how it feels
it feels like the way we do it
you are the sea
and i am a body
you are a body
and i am the sea
so simple and yet
what a bliss
naked, deep, blue, watery
wet, slippery, salty,
sweat mixed with the salt of the sea
two naked bodies
feeling
salt, earth, sand, fire
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Pansy: Song-Words
IN a crooked angle
Of a garden bower,
'Neath a weedy tangle
Grew a modest flower;
Unpretending, unoffending,
Gifted but with fancy,
Unassuming in his blooming
Grew that modest pansy.
Ah! pansy, pansy,
Hope springs anew;
But fancy, fancy,
Never comes true.
Comes a maiden bashful,
Wandering here and there,
With her silken sash full
Of roses rich and rare;
Slow she takes them, dewless shakes them
In her shapely fingers,
While to choose some for her bosom
Lazily she lingers.
Ah! pansy, pansy,
Modest in hue;
Sweet fancy, fancy,
Never comes true.
With a lover's anguish
For her glance he sought,
On her breast to languish
Was his daring thought;
If he perished by her cherished,
Life was worth the leaving;
But she passes 'midst the grasses,
And she leaves him grieving!
Ah! pansy, pansy,
Sorrow for you;
But fancy, fancy,
Never comes true.
poem by Arthur Henry Adams
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Cotton Mouth
James seals, dash crofts
Red eyed momma keep cryin
Blue eyed cat keeps a lyin
Catfish keep his eye on the string
And that cotton mouth keep on windin
Sing, sing, sing
Dark moon keeps hidin
And gator, he keeps right on slidin
And bull frog, he aint mindin
Oh, cotton mouth keep on windin
Sing, sing, sing
Lightnin bugs in bottles
They gimme all the light I need
And Im seinin bait for linin
And that cotton mouth keeps on windin
Sing, sing, sing
Oh, that big iron pots a boilin
And that red eyed momma keeps toilin
And the crawdad meats for dinin
And oh, that cotton mouth keeps on windin, lord
Sing, sing, sing
song performed by by Doobie Brothers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Morning (Poem From The Movie Il Postino)
Naked, you are simple as one of your hands,
smooth, earthy, small, transparent, round:
you have moon-lines, apple-pathways:
naked, you are slender as a naked grain of wheat.
Naked, you are blue as a night in Cuba;
you have vines and stars in your hair;
naked, you are spacious and yellow
as summer in a golden church.
Naked, you are tiny as one of your nails-
curved, subtle, rosy, till the day is born
and you withdraw to the underground world,
as if down a long tunnel of clothing and of chores:
your clear light dims, gets dressed - drops its leaves-
and becomes a naked hand again
song performed by by Sting
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet XXVII: Naked You Are As Simple as one of your Hands
Naked, you are simple as one of your hands,
Smooth, earthy, small, transparent, round:
You have moonlines, applepathways:
Naked, you are slender as a naked grain of wheat.
Naked, you are blue as the night in Cuba;
You have vines and stars in your hair;
Naked, you are spacious and yellow
As summer in a golden church.
Naked, you are tiny as one of your nails,
Curved, subtle, rosy, till the day is born
And you withdraw to the underground world,
as if down a long tunnel of clothing and of chores:
Your clear light dims, gets dressed, drops its leaves,
And becomes a naked hand again.
poem by Pablo Neruda
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At The Beach...
the long rain has finally left us,
the sun comes up
and sand is sand and
the beach is real and we
decide to undress
we want to be real too
we want motion and sounds and scents
we run towards the sea
and dive and taste the salt
of our bodies
this beachy beachy beachiness of live
so lovely so salty
so wet so hot
unmindful of our being naked
now
the i penetrating in you
and the you
letting me in
but just a dream...
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Some Lovely
In my heart, in my heart
You want some lovely, i got some lovely
I've got some lovely in my head, in my head
Where the lions, wear the right eye,
Where the jems (?) roar, there be lovely
You want some lovely, i got some lovely
In my bed, in my bed
Where the ocean wears the shore down
Where's the on switch?
There be lovely laying waiting naked for you
(chorus)
We can play every day
We can play at being lovers
We can play every day
We can play on my brown guitar
(repeat chorus)
You want some lovely, i got some lovely
In my yard, in my yard
There be inchworm, there be footlong
There be yardstick stir some lovely
Laying waiting naked for you
You want some lovely, i got some lovely
In my field, in my field
There be green grass, there be big sky
There be blue birds come and nest there
(chorus x 2)
You want some lovely, i got some lovely
In my heart, in my heart for you
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Some Lovely
In my heart, in my heart
You want some lovely, i got some lovely
I've got some lovely in my head, in my head
Where the lions, wear the right eye,
Where the jems (?) roar, there be lovely
You want some lovely, i got some lovely
In my bed, in my bed
Where the ocean wears the shore down
Where's the on switch?
There be lovely laying waiting naked for you
(chorus)
We can play every day
We can play at being lovers
We can play every day
We can play on my brown guitar
(repeat chorus)
You want some lovely, i got some lovely
In my yard, in my yard
There be inchworm, there be footlong
There be yardstick stir some lovely
Laying waiting naked for you
You want some lovely, i got some lovely
In my field, in my field
There be green grass, there be big sky
There be blue birds come and nest there
(chorus x 2)
You want some lovely, i got some lovely
In my heart, in my heart for you
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Brown Guitar
In my heart, in my heart
You want some lovely, I got some lovely
In my head, in my head
Where the lions wear the right tie,
Where the gems roar, there be lovely
You want some lovely, I got some lovely
In my bed, in my bed
Where the ocean wears the shore down
Wheres the on switch?
There be lovely laying waiting naked for you
(chorus)
We can play every day
We can play at being lovers
We can play every day
We can play on my brown guitar
(repeat chorus)
You want some lovely, I got some lovely
In my yard, in my yard
There be inchworm, there we football
Take my yardstick, stir some lovely
Laying waiting naked for you
You want some lovely, I got some lovely
In my field, in my field
There be green grass, there be pink skies
There be blue birds come and nest there
(chorus x 2)
You want some lovely, I got some lovely
In my heart, in my heart for you
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Look
1, 2, 3, 4
Walking like a man
Hitting like a hammer
Shes a juvenile scam
Never was a quitter
Tasty like a raindrop
Shes got the look
Heavenly bound
Cause heavens got a number
When shes spinning me around
Kissing is a colour
Her loving is a wild dog
Shes got the look
Shes got the look, -shes got the look-
Shes got the look, -shes got the look-
What in the world can make a brown-eyed girl turn blue
When everything Ill ever do, Ill do for you
And I go: la la la la la
Shes got the look
Fire in the ice
Naked to the t-bone
Is a lovers disguise
Banging on the head drum
Shaking like a mad bull
Shes got the look
Swaying to the band
Moving like a hammer
Shes a miracle man
Loving is the ocean
Kissing is the wet sand
Shes got the look
Shes got the look, -shes got the look-
Shes got the look, -shes got the look-
What in the world can make a brown-eyed girl turn blue
When everything Ill ever do, Ill do for you
And I go: la la la la la
Shes got the look
Walking like a man
Hitting like a hammer
Shes a juvenile scam
Never was a quitter
Tasty like a raindrop
Shes got the look
And she goes:
Na na na na na,
Na na na na na na,
Na na na na na,
Na na na na na na,
Na na na na na na na na,
Shes got the look
Shes got the look, -shes got the look-
Shes got the look, -shes got the look-
What in the world can make a brown-eyed girl turn blue
When everything Ill ever do, Ill do for you
And I go: la la la la la
Shes got the look
What in the world can make you so blue
When everything Ill ever do, Ill do for you
And I go: la la la la la
Na na na na na,
Na na na na na na,
Na na na na na,
Na na na na na na,
Na na na na na na na na,
Shes got the look
And she goes:
Na na na na na,
Na na na na na na,
Na na na na na,
Na na na na na na,
Na na na na na na na na,
Shes got the look -shes got the look-
And she goes:
Na na na na na,
Na na na na na na,
Na na na na na,
Na na na na na na,
Na na na na na na na na,
Shes got the look -shes got the look-
And she goes:
Na na na na na,
Na na na na na na,
Na na na na na,
Na na na na na na,
Na na na na na na na na,
Shes got look -shes got look-...
song performed by by Roxette
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Mermaid (Quatern Poetry)
In the Red Sea, you were my lonely king of salt,
You were my beautiful statue made of basalt.
On the sea shore, dominating the yellow land,
You were my statue representing the king of sand.
Your body was looking as it was tattooed with smalt.
In the Red Sea, you were my lonely king of salt.
At the water high waves' mobile horizon
I was a mermaid, caught in your love's prison.
I swam to the surface, sometimes, to see you.
You were on your ship, at the dawn's purplish blue.
In the Red Sea, you were my lonely king of salt.
I had your beautiful statue, made of basalt.
I paid to get rid off my tail and to become a woman,
Because I wanted you to be my lover and my man.
You disappeared and your wreck was anchored in Galt,
In the Red Sea, you’re my lonely king of salt.
poem by Marieta Maglas
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The World Is Blue As An Orange
The world is blue as an orange
No error the words do not lie
They no longer allow you to sing
In the tower of kisses agreement
The madness the love
She her mouth of alliance
All the secrets all the smiles
Or what dress of indulgence
To believe in quite naked.
The wasps flourish greenly
Dawn goes by round her neck
A necklace of windows
You are all the solar joys
All the sun of this earth
On the roads of your beauty.
poem by Paul Eluard
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The Fury Of Beautiful Bones
Sing me a thrush, bone.
Sing me a nest of cup and pestle.
Sing me a sweetbread fr an old grandfather.
Sing me a foot and a doorknob, for you are my love.
Oh sing, bone bag man, sing.
Your head is what I remember that August
you were in love with another woman but
that didn't matter. I was the guy of your
bones, your fingers long and nubby, your
forehead a beacon, bare as marble and I worried
you like an odor because you had not quite forgotten,
bone bag man, garlic in the North End,
the book you dedicated, naked as a fish,
naked as someone drowning into his own mouth.
I wonder, Mr. Bone man, what you're thinking
of your fury now, gone sour as a sinking whale,
crawling up the alphabet on her own bones.
Am I in your ear still singing songs in the rain,
me of the death rattle, me of the magnolias,
me of the sawdust tavern at the city's edge.
Women have lovely bones, arms, neck, thigh
and I admire them also, but your bones
supersede loveliness. They are the tough
ones that get broken and reset. I just can't
answer for you, only for your bones,
round rulers, round nudgers, round poles,
numb nubkins, the sword of sugar.
I feel the skull, Mr. Skeleton, living its
own life in its own skin.
poem by Anne Sexton
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That Big Yellow Balloon
'Mommy, I want that big yellow balloon, '
The baby boy cried.
Mommy walked the mall replying,
'I only see a red balloon.'
So the Mommy did drive,
And the baby it cried,
Then they reached a new store.
But the baby wanted that big yellow balloon,
The store did not have.
'Maaaaaaaam, I want that big yellow balloon, '
The baby yelled with his wavy shaped mouth.
The Mommy saw some red, white and blue balloon,
Driving by a July the Fourth party.
Now the baby bellowed louder,
Pounding his fists on the floor,
Saying, 'see Mom, all big yellow balloons are gone Mom.
Why did you wait so long?
Perplexed Mom asked the crying son,
What he meant by that,
Especially, when she had done,
All she could have done.
The baby proclaimed, 'now the big yellow balloon,
Has turned into a big orange balloon! ! ! '
He sobbed, 'you made it too late in the day Mom.'
Now Mommy asked, 'was that the biggest sunshiniest,
Balloon in the tall sky, that hung around all day long? '
'And you didn't get it for me, whaaaaaaawww.....,
The baby expressed himself.
The next day bought another appeal from the baby,
This time as he rode with the pilots of 'Sun Shines Airways.'
The cockpit shown his big yellow balloon, steady in front of him.
The pilots bought him the longest wads and wads of string.
This baby stuck the string to the cockpit window,
Where the sun was the biggest and yellowest.
And as the plane descended,
That string grew longer and longer.
The baby knew he know owned,
The biggest and 'yellowest' balloon,
As his grip grew stronger and stronger.
This baby's hand held it longer and longer,
His biggest yellow balloon,
Filled with helium.
poem by Vera Sidhwa
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Under a Blue Sky
Look at that blue sky
she said
as you lay beside her
in the field
behind her house
and she pointed upward
and you followed her finger
as it indicated
the expanse of blue
and white clouds
and a few birds in flight
That cloud formation
seems like angels with harps
and that
she added pointing
further over
Looks like a horse's head
you nodded and said
And that formation
over there
looks like Miss Brody's ass
and she slapped your hand
and laughed
and her laughter
carried over the field
and there was that moment
you never wanted to end
like when she kissed
and her tongue protruded
into your mouth
or when she held you close
and you breathed in
her scent
borrowed from her mother
Just a dab
behind the ears
she had said
but that was years before
the cancer had her
but the memory of her
is still here
alive and undead.
poem by Terry Collett
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Alone On the Beach
The ocean waves lap at my feet, the warm salt speckled water warming me against the soft breeze. Soft tan sand as fine as dust shifts beneath my feet. The sun still sits above the horizon, which was good, because she wasn't here yet. I've been waiting so long. I stopped counting the days when I began to lose hope, but I still wait for her. She is so lost in here own mind, so confused by over-analyzing thoughts. She's so much like me, yet so very different. Her music plays through my head, over and over, it brings me so close to her heart, because that's the only time she leaves it open. But it makes me sad, because she's so far away. The sun dies behind the water. She's not here so there is no beauty in its passing. I've spent yet another day alone on this crowded shore.
I think back to so many nights ago, she held me against her heart as I finally fell to pieces, no longer needing to be so strong. Then she left. I don't want to feel the pain so I tell myself its not real and force it to leave me be, so I can stand alone on this crowded beach, waiting for my heart to return.
'Come home....'
poem by John Dillenger II
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The Eddy between two Rivers
Misty april rain caresses my cheek
drops fall down my neck
sending shivers down my spine.
Is it the rain?
Or is it you?
Over a concrete garden
the snap of salt
your heart and mine
we start again
as the sun removes
the small silk undergarments
of the now naked blue sky
revealing the eddy of two rivers,
the vortex that enthralls
Is it the sky?
Is it you?
poem by Liberatore Suffoletta
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The Old Swimmer
I OFTEN wander on the beach
Where once, so brown of limb,
The biting air, the roaring surf
Summoned me to swim.
I see my old abundant youth
Whee combers lean and spill,
And though I taste the foam no more
Other swimmers will.
Oh, good exultant strength to meet
The arching wall of green,
To break the crystal, swirl, emerge
Dripping, taut, and clean.
To climb the moving hilly blue,
To dive in ecstasy
And feel the salty chill embrace
Arm and rib and knee.
What brave and vanished laughter then
And tingling thighs to run,
What warm and comfortable sands
Dreaming in the sun.
The crumbling water spreads in snow,
The surf is hissing still,
And though I kiss the salt no more,
Other swimmers will.
poem by Christopher Morley
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That Autumn Day In Mid July.
It was a cool July and it was dusk.
The gentle winds that blew,
brushed the Autumn of your hair.
And a mist, as like in Autumn, touch
your face, as I stood still.
For: J.L.
The first thing I thought of on this
day was you.
_________________________________________ _
I could not help but wonder, as in Autumn,
are the bees yet in their hive; snuggled
closely, in their Autumn winter bed.?
An Autumn sun, hid behind the clouds above.
It knew not of this July, only of Autumn, in the air.
It knew of flowers drooping, their brightness,
now fading and curled. It knew of falling leaves,
and colors still so bright. A lone tree against a colored
sky, seemed naked in this July. With all of
this, and some to go, it must be Autumn, for this I know.
What of the woman, with the hair of Autumn?
Her eyes of Autumn color and colored clothes
the same. It can not be July, for
Autumn is abound.
Autumns every where. Circling sparrows in sky
above, swoop down, in hunt, for the final seeds
of Autumn. How could this be July,
or have the sparrows lost their way?
Surely, this is Autumn, for the chill is in they air.
And, isn't that an Autumn grass, below that
old oak tree? As the gentle Autumn winds,
carry silence for the day.
Now the mist of Autumn, are falling drops of rain.
No, not a shower in July, but an Autumn day,
now cast in gloom, against a steel gray sky.
Autumn, shall never be the same, since
that Autumn day in mid July.
Bones
Sling me under the sea.
Pack me down in the salt and wet.
No farmer’s plow shall touch my bones.
No Hamlet hold my jaws and speak
How jokes are gone and empty is my mouth.
Long, green-eyed scavengers shall pick my eyes,
Purple fish play hide-and-seek,
And I shall be song of thunder, crash of sea,
Down on the floors of salt and wet.
Sling me … under the sea.
poem by Carl Sandburg
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