Old Chair
We look at an old chair and wonder
whose bottom once sat there.
Was it someone Royal
or someone posh
with lots and lots of dosh,
or was it someone poor
that treasured a comfortable seat.
No matter whom it was,
just look and wonder
at the history of that old chair,
then just sit on it
and put more history there.
29 January 2008
poem by David Harris
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The Chair Don't make the Man
People see me in this chair and whisper look at that poor man over there. They believe my life is wasted all because I’m in this chair. Well I got some to say that I want you all to hear. Just like clothes don’t really make a man neither does a chair. The chair is just what I use to get me for here to there. Just like people who walk use their legs to get them everywhere. Because besides the chair I’m just like you; I laugh, I cry and yes I have sex too. Now that you all know the next time you see me don’t whisper look at that poor man over there. In fact don’t say anything just remember the chair don’t make the man.
Black History Month
In January...
There they are making history.
In February...
There they are making history.
In March...
There they are making history.
In April...
There they are making history.
In May...
There they are making history.
In June...
There they are making history.
In July...
There they are making history.
In August...
There they are making history.
In September...
There they are making history.
In October...
There they are making history.
In November...
There they are making history.
In December...
There they are making history.
But...
It's nice to know
The shortest month of the year
Was chosen to celebrate
The great deeds of African-Americans!
However...
It is those LEAP YEARS,
That really have the blacks jumping for joy!
Note: 'Black History Month' along with other
works of interest can be found in...
*'MindPrints from Untouched Places-VOL I'*
~Now available online at a PC near you~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Cogitation
if this chair does not exist
will i, this, chair, me, who asks,
if this chair, exists at all,
can i, exist, too? will i be dependent
on the thought of a chair
a thought of me that i think i
can touch, that i think thoughts
touching this thought of a chair
does the chair think about me,
i ask, looking for that therefore
beside the chair that i thought
is a chair, that i thought is I,
am, therefore, a chair, thinking
chair, on four feet?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Chair Is No Longer Just A Chair
it is your experience that
gives you more meaning to all those which
you think
have been too common and
insignificant,
perhaps
now you must have realized as you sit upon a chair
that someone used to sit there
and that someone waited for another to be with her
that on the same chair
there were some fears
and pains and even longings
and hopes
unrealized and by then
you see that chair not just a chair
you sit there
and you ask it
for this chair though muted by wood
will always have
a story to tell....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Tennessee Square
Red ribbons hang in a tennessee square
Old people laughing and singing and dancing down there
Id like to join them, I got no money to spare
So I sit here and watch from the porch
Drinkin whiskey in granddaddys chair.
Ferris wheel lights look like pictures Id seen in a book somewhere
Vacant parking lots across the street remind me Im going nowhere
Id like to join em, I got no money to spare
So I sit here and I watch from the porch
Drinkin whiskey in granddaddys chair
Its difficult to go on knowing youre out there somewhere
Vacant parking lots across the street remind me Im going nowhere.
song performed by by Whiskeytown
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lots Of Times
Lots of times we laugh and joke
And make funny faces
And lots of time we write notes
Telling each other hello
Lots of times we hung out
And made up funny games
And lots of times we stood together
And defended our beliefs
Lots of times I think of you
And how you're my best friend
And lots of times I know
That that will never end.
Marital Agonies
she sits on a rocking chair
but she is not rocking it
her eyes stare at the sea without
a horizon
she spreads her legs looking
for a spot to
rest her toes,
he is out there looking at the sunset
his shadow is consumed
by darkness
he comes home
opens the PC and begins to write some poems
mostly about
funerals
unlike before
there were lots of sunrises everywhere as though
mornings are the only
seasons
he pauses, he hears the rocking of the chair.
the TV is off
he cannot find the letters to form the words.
he stares at the monitor
he is silent.
there is no break in this monotonous sound of silence.
he wishes he were a stone.
she wishes she is a bird.
one refuses to grow further.
the other wants to fly away, no matter where.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Man With Money
She wants a man with lots of money,
not a poor boy,
He buys her things she calls him honey,
she calls me poor boy,
What good could it do,
to give a love pure and true,
when any fool could understand,
she thinks that money makes the man,
She wants a man with lots of money,
not a poor boy,
She wants the things she'll buy with money,
not a poor boy,
a man with money,man with money,man with money,
Just down thwe street,
I know a place
When there asleep,
I'll cover my face,
I'll break the lock,open the door,
I'll slip inside, I'll rob the store,
Then I'll be a man with lots of money,
not a poor boy,
I'll buy her things, she'll call me honey,
not a poor boy,
A man with money, man with money, man with money, man with money
song performed by by Who
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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But It Makes Me Lots Of Money
Cigarette addiction kills people
But it makes me lots of money
It ruins their health
But it makes me lots of money
They cannot breathe properly
But it makes me lots of money
Their addiction causes them misery
But it makes me lots of money
A trillion cigarette butts pollute our earth daily
But it makes me lots of money
Cigarettes cause fires which burn many people to death
But it makes me lots of money
Parents buy cigarettes when their children need to eat
But it makes me lots of money
Cigarette smoke fills our bars and nightclubs, very unpleasant
But it makes me lots of money
Dirty ashtrays are disgusting
But it makes me lots of money
Why are you allowed to promote and sell such a disgusting product?
Because I've got lots of money
(Sydney, Australia - 2003)
poem by Alessandra Liverani
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History why do we care
History
a famous person dies
History
a war rages
History
a new invention
History
a building opens
History
what happens if something happens to me
is that history?
no....
So why do we care.....
poem by Andrea Thepoet
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A Reaction About Breaking
i sit on a chair
and it breaks and i fall
on the floor
but i rise and looks around
with no one
really seeing what happens
just a while ago
and then i touch my bottom
and then alone by myself
i laugh the
hardest.
crazy, but i like the legs
of the chair splitting into
useless limbs.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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There isn't a coliseum any more, but the city is a bigger bowl, and it seats more people. The razor-sharp claws aren't those of wild animals but man's can be just as sharp and twice as vicious. You have to be quick, and you have to be able, or you become one of the devoured, and if you can kill first, no matter how and no matter who, you can live and return to the comfortable chair and the comfortable fire. But you have to be quick. And able. Or you'll be dead.
quote by Mickey Spillane
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Independence Of The Self
independence of the self
is an earning. It is a day to day
saving,
no one gives you a glass of water
you get it yourself,
you stand, you reach out for something
that you have to do for yourself,
you travel alone, you make yourself comfortable
with yourself,
you think for yourself, you figure out shapes
reflect upon the kind of sounds that you hear
from outside you,
you sit upon a chair ins silence
keeping that poise
nothing threatens you now
you are at your own pace,
confident,
even without her, you are still happy
you are an island
lots of trees grow in there
birds visit you and then
you are not afraid if they do not come back
you are not attached, you are a flux
a diffusion,
and you fill every space that comes to you
now, you are complete
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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She Is Electric
Shes electric
Shes in a family full of eccentrics
She done things I never expected
And I need more time
Shes got a sister
And God only knows how Ive missed her
On the palm of her hand is a blister
And I need more time
And I want you to know
Ive got my mind made up now
But I need more time
And I want you to say
Do you know what Im saying?
But I need more ....
Coz Ill be you and youll be me
Theres lots and lots for us to see
Theres lots and lots for us to do
She is electric, can I be electric too?
Shes got a brother
We dont get on with one another
But I quite fancy her mother
And I think that she likes me
Shes got a cousin
In fact shes got bout a dozen
Shes got one in the oven
But its nothing to do with me
And I want you to know
Ive got my mind made up now
But I need more time
And I want you to say
Do you know what Im saying?
But I need more ....
Coz Ill be you and youll be me
Theres lots and lots for us to see
Theres lots and lots for us to do
She is electric, can I be electric too?
song performed by by Oasis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You know the first time I sat in the chair I felt anything but up, it was very emotional for me. I had a chair in my hotel room, a chair at rehearsal, and I was trying to spend as much time as I could in the chair.
quote by Gregory Hines
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Big Green Chair
Look over there. See the big green chair. Its my favorite place, the chair over there.
I sit there quite often thinking of this and sometimes that. Sometimes when I sit there I wear a hat. Pink of course, nothing else would do. I even have pink shoe, the other one blue.
When I'm sleeply sometimes I crawl up in the big green chair. It smells of dad, his name is brad. But only mom call him brad, to me he's dad.
But my favorite thing about the big green chair is when dad calls my name,
Lainey, my dear, come and sit with me here in my chair, my big green chair.
poem by Brad Milner
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The Arrow The Chair And The Falling Star
the chair is silent
it has feet but it does not leave
it screeches sometimes
because you are heavy
with your load (this burden
this baggage of the
soul)
the chair faces the sea
because your finger points to
a falling star
and the chair like you
makes a wish
like you
it wishes that the moon
may soon have lips
that you can
kiss throughout the night
unlike you
the chair never dreams of arms.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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History Maker
History maker World shaker it’s what I wanna be
Going places seeing faces making history
Stepping out not afraid coming up against the enemy
History maker world shaker that’s what I wanna be
Get up and go-there is trouble everywhere
Finding solutions to our problems is so very rare
No more talking cause all the talking’s done
History maker world shaker I already have begun
Stand up for right I am in a fight
Trying with all my might to free them from their plight
History maker world shaker that’s what I want to be
Helping people change, changing history
But I can’t do it alone I need someone
To help me do the job and get it done
Become a history maker starting here today
Be a world shaker follow me I will show the way
Copy Right HN Brown 31 January 2009
poem by Henry Brown
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Three Kinds of People
The books of my history
Begins with comedy
And end with tragedy
“Son”, do you know this
Spontaneous?
If you don’t know
Don’t mind
Your father will tell you.
There are three kinds of people
But the history knows only two
The first are foxy foxes
Who do right things and
Great good deeds
They stand at the top of history
The second are mad dogs
Who do wrong things and
Great evil deeds
They stand at the bottom of history
The third are piggy hyenas
Who are neither wise nor foolish?
Who cannot do right or wrong?
The history doesn’t know them
They have no chapter in history book
Can you choose among them for
Your inspiration and if you
Can heed my advice
The foxes are the best stars
To stick to.
poem by David Aoloch Bion
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Royal Family
Royal parents,
Royal birth,
Royal relationship,
Royal love,
Royal wedding,
Royal pregnancy,
Royal child,
Royal family;
Roya, loyal! !
The lineage,
The history,
The heritage;
Nancy, pregnancy!
Line, lineage;
And, you still have her in your heart.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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