En.Citatepedia^®.ro

For Mom

Old sepia photos…
Tear on cheek
Catch in my breast
Chin in my hand
Winsome smile on my lips
Eyes closed in retrospect
Warm glow arising
Sadness, gladness
Happiness, madness
Chaos and caring
Teaching and sharing
Bad times, good times
Warm breast, soft lap
Strong hands and wrinkles
Loving eyes, weary sighs
Giving…always giving
Graying hair
Being there
Warm hand on my brow

Old sepia photos…
Of her and dad
Newly married
Both just kids themselves
Hard to imagine them
The times and changes
The selflessly given support
The daily sacrifice
Tear on my cheek
Catch in my breast
Eyes tightly closed in retrospect…
And respect….

For mom

poem by David Whalen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Happiness Is A Warm Gun (Danny Saber Remix)

Happiness is a warm gun
Happiness is a warm gun
She's not a girl who misses much
She's not a girl who misses much
Mother Superior jump the gun
Mother Superior jump the gun
Mother Superior jump the gun
Mother Superior jump the gun
Happiness is a warm gun
Happiness is a warm gun
She's well acquainted with the touch of the velvet hand
Like a lizard on a window pane
The man in the crowd
With the multicoloured mirrors on his hobnail boots
Lying with his eyes wide open
And the hands busy working overtime
A soap impression of his wife which he ate
And donated to the National Trust
Hey, I need a fix 'cause I'm going down
Happiness is a, a warm gun
Happiness is a, a warm gun
Happiness is a, a warm gun
Happiness is a warm gun
Happiness is a warm gun
Happiness is a warm gun
I need a fix cause I'm going down
I need a fix cause I'm going down
I need a fix cause I'm going down
To the bits that I left uptown
I need a fix cause I'm going down, uptown
Need a fix cause I'm going down, uptown
Happiness is a, a warm gun
Happiness is a, a warm gun
Happiness is a, a warm gun
Happiness is a warm gun
Happiness is a warm gun
[Repeat until end]

song performed by by U2
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Happiness Is A Warm Gun

Happiness is a warm gun
Happiness is a warm gun
Shes not a girl who misses much
Shes not a girl who misses much
Mother superior jump the gun
Mother superior jump the gun
Mother superior jump the gun
Mother superior jump the gun
Happiness is a warm gun
Happiness is a warm gun
Shes well acquainted with the touch of the velvet hand
Like a lizard on a window pane
The man in the crowd
With the multicoloured mirrors on his hobnail boots
Lying with his eyes wide open
And the hands busy working overtime
A soap impression of his wife which he ate
And donated to the national trust
Hey, I need a fix cause Im going down
Happiness is a, a warm gun
Happiness is a, a warm gun
Happiness is a, a warm gun
Happiness is a warm gun
Happiness is a warm gun
Happiness is a warm gun
I need a fix cause Im going down
I need a fix cause Im going down
I need a fix cause Im going down
To the bits that I left uptown
I need a fix cause Im going down, uptown
Need a fix cause Im going down, uptown
Happiness is a, a warm gun
Happiness is a, a warm gun
Happiness is a, a warm gun
Happiness is a warm gun
Happiness is a warm gun
[repeat until end]

song performed by by U2
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Album Faces

In my photo album
languish years

compressed and angled
with four corners
where youth and age mix;

mostly smiles regaling
good times frozen
baby eyes and faces;

teen years
and marriages;
friends severed
by divorces;

yellowed senior
grannies
and rigidly posed Great Grannies
all in the same book
but not able to touch;

all gathered by me
into close proximity;
sepia and digital ones
Polaroids and 8's
resting in their resting place,

inside my album world
where a finger-tip touch
of Grannies face
is a kiss given to
Baby Grace
new to this world;

and just arrived
to her album space-
baby smile glowing-
for my daughter
in years to come
to lovingly
contemplate.

We learn to live and record our precious times
in photos fresh or graying
and in doing so
ensure against sweet memories decaying;
ensuring fresh
each moments glow
from new cherub
to Grannies
beautiful wedding dress.

We lay them down
close
side by side
to increase proximity
across times'
decaying border.

poem by Lonnie Hicks
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Beyond Belief

“You’ll never believe, what it is that I see”
Said the old man just before he died

He squeezed my hand tightly, as he whispered lightly
And he pulled me down to his side

“I wouldn’t have believed, ” he said with a sigh
As I put my ear close to his lips

His dim eyes brightened, as his hand slowly rose
he pointed into space with thin fingertips

“It’s not…not at all, what you’d think it to be, ”
He whispered, as his hand… slowly fell to the bed

“We were wrong, all of us wrong, It goes on you see! ”
Barely audible now, slowly lowered his head

I put my hand on his brow, my cheek against his… tenderly
I could sense the ebb of his final tide

“You’d never, …ever believe, what it is that I see, ”
His eyes closed…he smiled…then he died

poem by David Whalen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The poetess, the moon...and the woods Pt1

A tear traced a path on her cheek in the moonlight
As her lips brushed the brow of her sleeping child

She stood still for a moment, with eyes closed tightly
Corners of lips pulled up… in a winsome smile

Strode heavily to the open window
stared out into the woods, soft lit by the moon

Then with a sigh pulled down the window
And quietly tiptoed out of the room

Glanced in at her husband, long asleep in their bed
And in her mind gave him a kiss on the top of his head

Then sat at her desk and finished her poem
Sat back and reviewed it… one last time

It was about her life… and about her home
And about the glow of the woods in the moonshine

She nodded her head… as if in agreement
With the words that she had carefully, composed

Her finger touched “enter” with determined intent
Then her whole body slumped in repose

From the corners of her eyes, she saw the moon rise
Oe’r the woods from out of her window

A teardropp fell softly to her desk as she stood
And walked through the door for the very last time

She looked up at the moon and then strode into the woods
She had posted her last poem…her very last rhyme

poem by David Whalen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Heart Of The Woman

O WHAT to me the little room
That was brimmed up with prayer and rest;
He bade me out into the gloom,
And my breast lies upon his breast.
O what to me my mother's care,
The house where I was safe and warm;
The shadowy blossom of my hair
Will hide us from the bitter storm.
O hiding hair and dewy eyes,
I am no more with life and death,
My heart upon his warm heart lies,
My breath is mixed into his breath.

poem by William Butler Yeats
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The child tastes the tear

The tear is made of salt
The tear is made of water
The tear is made of the sea
But you cannot swim in it
The tear can leak down the cheek
The tear is like a good rhyme
The child wipes away the tear
The wipe is made of the hand
The hand is made by…who
The child thinks of the hand
The hand can shake a hand
The hand can slap a cheek
The hand can wipe the tear away
The hand and tear are made
The child is thinking
I am made too

poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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We May Meet Again

Beneath long lashes, misty clad,
Your limpid eyes are sometimes sad;
They bring to mind a homeless waif
Engulfed in rain with nowhere safe

Most times I find a cheerful light
Within your eyes that sparkles bright,
And though my thoughts I try to hide
My happiness wells up inside

At times I see your eyes aglow
Like founts through which your passions flow;
And when I'm low they always loom
Like morning glories through the gloom

Your smile ashine beneath my gaze
Effulgent eyes beam all ablaze:
A look, a touch, a kiss I yearn,
You slowly make my body burn

While at your side and in a heap
I watched your eyes half closed with sleep,
And as you slept with pillow clutched,
Your eyelids with my lips I touched

And if you've ever wondered why
I try to search within each eye,
Though past is past, your eyes remind
Of bygone times when love was kind

And though your eyes still cast a spell
They seem to bid a fond farewell,
Reflecting but a fading storm
Although I know your thoughts are warm

And now our paths will part, alas,
For good things always come to pass;
Perhaps it lies within God's ken
That someday we may meet again

poem by Terry O'Leary
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Good Times Are Killing Me

The good times are killing me.
Here we go!
Got dirt, got air, got water and I know you can carry on.
Shrug off shortsighted false excitement and oh what can I say?
Have one, have twenty more "one mores" and oh it does not relent.
The good times are killing me.
Kick butt buzz-cut dickheads
who didn't like what I said.
The good times are killing me.
Jaws clenched tight we talked all night,
oh but what the hell did we say?
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
Fed up with all that LSD.
Need more sleep than coke or methamphetamines.
Late nights with warm, warm whiskey.
I guess the good times they were all just killing me.
Got dirt, got air, got water and I know you can carry on.
The good times are killing me.
Enough hair of the dog to make myself an entire rug.
The good times are killing me.
Have one, have twenty more "one mores" and oh it does not relent.
The good times are killing me.
Shit-kicker city slickers who all wanted me dead.
The good times are killing me.
Get sucked in and stuck in late nights
with more folks that I don't know.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.

song performed by by Modest Mouse
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Can't Say More

Thank you sweety for all the times you have said I love you baby
Thank you sweety for all the times you have made me smile
Thank you sweety for all the times you have said I am pretty or beautiful
Thank you sweety for all the times you have said I am a great woman
Thank you sweety for all the times you have said I have a great body
Thank you sweety for all the times you have told me I am the best thin that ever happened to you
Thank you sweety for all the times you let me get my way even if we both new you were right
Thank you sweety for all the times you have teased me
Thank you sweety for all the times you have made fun of me
Thank you sweety for all the times you have made me laugh until I cried
Thank you sweety for all the times you just called to say I love you baby
Thank you sweety for all the self pride you have given me
Thank you sweety for all the loving make my day hugs we have shared together
Thank you sweety for every floating on clouds passionate kiss you have shared with me
Thank you sweety for every touch of your tender hands
Thank you sweety for every time you have looked deeply into my eyes traveling the depths of my soul and telling me what you want
Thank you sweety for every breath we have shared together
Thank you sweety for every day we are together
Thank you sweety for giving me a chance
Thank you sweety for trusting in me no matter what I said or did
Thank you sweety for you are the only person that has not broken my heart into a million pieces
Thank you sweety for being you
Thank you sweety for building our relationship until it’s unbreakably strong
Thank you sweety for all the times a smile formed your lips
Thank you sweety for everything and anything

I’m sorry sweet heart I’m not good enough for such
a wonderful man
and I’m just a girl
and you deserve better

I’m so sorry
that I cant think of anymore to say
to the most amazing man
in the whole world
and all I can manage to say is
thank you
for everything you have done for me
that is not nearly enough
I’m sorry sweety
I cant say more

poem by Mrs. Cynosure
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Good Times Are Killing Me

MODEST MOUSE - The Good Times Are Killing Me
Album: Good News For People Who Love Bad News (2004)
The good times are killing me.
Here we go!
Got dirt, got air, got water and I know you can carry on.
Shrug off shortsighted false excitement and oh what can I say?
Have one, have twenty more "one mores" and oh it does not relent.
The good times are killing me.
Kick butt buzz-cut dickheads
who didn't like what I said.
The good times are killing me.
Jaws clenched tight we talked all night,
oh but what the hell did we say?
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
Fed up with all that LSD.
Need more sleep than coke or methamphetamines.
Late nights with warm, warm whiskey.
I guess the good times they were all just killing me.
Got dirt, got air, got water and I know you can carry on.
The good times are killing me.
Enough hair of the dog to make myself an entire rug.
The good times are killing me.
Have one, have twenty more "one mores" and oh it does not relent.
The good times are killing me.
Shit-kicker city slickers who all wanted me dead.
The good times are killing me.
Get sucked in and stuck in late nights
with more folks that I don't know.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.

song performed by by Modest Mouse
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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With Your Soft Lips

With your soft lips on my cheek
I am caught in moments that draw out,
I am melting in every beautiful gaze,
with eyes flaming and touching
you let my time linger in moments

and near to each other in trust
you voice sounds like birdsong
and we are both affectionate;
with your soft lips.

Sometimes you look scared,
as if I am going grab or catch you
and at other times you understand,
when we kiss each other pleasantly
without getting our feelings in restraint;
with your soft lips.

poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sometimes

Sometimes I just sit and stare,
Wishing you could be there
To hold me tight
And tell me everything will be alright.
Sometimes all I do
Is lay there and think about you,
Remembering when you looked into my eyes
And begged me not to cry.
Sometimes I think about the way my hand fits in yours
And all the times you've opened and closed my doors,
Thinking you are the perfect gentleman
Doing for me whatever you can.
Sometimes I just miss you so,
Those words I do not speak much I know,
But you understand it's hard for me
To open up and let you see.
Sometimes I think of how you make me smile,
Even if it's only for a little while.
You have helped me in so many ways,
My thanks to you I can never repay.
Sometimes when I don't want to stand
You're right there, giving me your hand,
Helping me realize
You can see things better through dry eyes.
Sometimes I just sit here and thank God,
I know that may sound somewhat odd.
He brought you to me,
I think he wants me to be happy.
Sometimes I sneak little glances.
I have been given so many chances.
I just feel this amazing connection,
Know I mean it when I say you have my undivided attention.
Sometimes I just want you to know
How I think about you so.
You are so very special to me,
Hopefully one day you will see.

poem by Ashley Reese
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To My Babies....Happy Mothers Day Every Day

To My Babies…….Happy Mothers Day Every Day

Do you remember the very first day you spent inside your very first cradle in my womb?
Do you remember the calm warm liquid love I enveloped you in?
Do you remember my calming soothing voice with you in the darkness?
Do you remember the beat of my loving heart?
Do you remember how I nourished you with my own blood?
Do you remember kicking me from within?
Do you remember bringing a smile to my tired yet blossoming face?
Do you remember me sitting up late in the night in discomfort only for your comfort?
Do you remember my pain and cries upon feeling torn apart?
Do you remember when the moment turned into minutes turned into hours?
Do you remember holding on so tight not wanting to leave the comfort and safety of my womb
Do you remember me pushing you out taking my own self to the brink of death?
Do you remember me giving you a glimpse of your new life?
Do you remember the look in my eyes?
Do you remember the first time I held you, your very first caress?
Do you remember the first kiss I planted upon your face?
Do you remember that first tear that rolled down my cheek
Do you remember your first tear I kissed away with my healing lips?
Do you remember the look of pride and joy?
Do you remember my very first silent prayer?
Do you remember being severed from my tired form?
Do you remember me holding you to my breast to give you only my very best?

Well I remember each and every moment and will take it with me upon my last breath
For as long and beyond…. hold on to that invisible cord
I love you all unconditionally and will always be right here in your hearts
Happy Mothers Day to you all
Love Always
Mummy

poem by Lilac Wine
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Good Times Roll

Let the good times roll
Let them knock you around
Let the good times roll
Let them make you a clown
Let them leave you up in the air
Let them brush your rock and roll hair
Let the good times roll
Let the good times roll
Let the good times roll
Let the stories be told
They can say what they want
Let the photos be old
Let them show what they want
Let them leave you up in the air
Let them brush your rock and roll hair
Let the good times roll
Let the good times roll-oll
Wont you let the good times roll
Good times roll
If the illusion is real
Let them give you a ride
If they got thunder appeal
Let them be on your side
Let them leave you up in the air
Let them brush your rock and roll hair
Let the good times roll
Wont you let the good times roll-oll
Let the good times roll
Let the good times roll
Wont you let the good times roll
Well let the good times roll
Let =91em roll (good times roll)
Let the good times roll
Oo let the good times roll
Oo let the good times roll
Let =91em roll (good times roll)
Well, let the good times roll
(let the good times roll)
Well let the good times roll
Good times roll
(let the good times roll)
Let the good times roll
Let =91em roll

song performed by by Cars
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Awaken Little Dreamer

With my eyes closed I see sadness. Sadness I held in for so long. Sadness that is beginning to be replaced with madness. Madness that's been eating at my core, my thought process, my mind for so long.
Eyes open, I see a reality I've been trying to to change, to better it. A lie, I've been living a lie. My life is a lie, one I've been living for so long.
A single tear escapes my eye as I am awaking from my made up reality, my created world. Reality, my reality is tragic not magic. Tears I held back now pour from my eyes, tears I held back for so long.
With my eyes closed I see sadness. I see pain masked by madness. I see sadness hidden by a web of lies and as I open my eyes I hear a voice say, 'Awaken from your dream, come and face reality. Awaken little dreamer. Awaken.'

poem by Suzaku Vaneko
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Snowpowder

Snowpowder sprinkled in my hair
I reach for her, but she’s not there.
Her soft golden hair, no longer by my side,
her emerald eyes, that for me were blind.
Deep pools of green, I can’t deny.

Her skis are gone, the track is fresh,
the first ripples of pain, stir beneath my breast.
From this moment forth, I’ll know no rest.

A single tear lies upon my cheek
A silver pear; a glistening streak
My heart is broken, I cannot speak.

I can see her face within the mist
still see her smile
that from enjoyment grew
still see the pleasure
within her eyes, that I once knew.

I can see the movement of her lips
those tender lips when she spoke to me
the feel of them that set me free.

I hear her laughter on the wind
a honey sweet voice like morning dew.
So clear and still hanging on the breeze
it stirs my heart, sucks forth my breath.

Snowpowder sprinkled in my hair
Desperation, Grief, Despair.

A silent cry an inward tear
a choked-up so bursting from within
a heart-reaching moan
that split the air.

My hand she took in a last embrace
with a parting kiss she sealed my fate
my body rocks, now convulsively shakes.

The sun is bright now, sky cream white blue
but my heart is cold still, dead through you.
Our love was strong once wild and free.
Like a flower growing in scorching desert sands
the fragrance of it, captivated me.

The beauty withers
Its time is past.
The seeds are sown
Some may last.
Alone in the snow
This life I part.

poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dunne Studying.

Dunne watches her mistress sleep.
There is the flickering of the eyelids
As if in dream. She gets out of bed
And with soft tread walks to her
Mistress’s bed side and looks down.
She holds her breath. She takes in
Each aspect of the face and neck
And how the hair is spread upon
The pillow. She wants to lean down
And kiss the lips, put flesh to flesh.
She hovers like some hawk waiting
To fly down and take her fine prey.
She breathes out slowly. She watches
The rise and fall of her mistress’s breast.
She moves out a hand to lay it there
But does not touch. She imagines so.
Imagines also climbing into the bed
And snuggling up close and kissing
The nape of neck. Her hand lingers
Over the breasts. Her eyes greedily
Study the soft cheek. She breathes
In deep. Her heart pounds within her
Breast. So near so near. She imagines
Lying within those arms and feeling
The hands caress her back. Her mistress
Stirs and she moves away. Walks back
To her own bed to await the light of day.

poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Take This Body

Take this body, my love,
my body, my love,
feel my knees and my arms,
feel my fingers on your hair,
cold fingers, sad fingers,
kiss my mouth, my love,
ever so gently
caressing my chest and stroking my hair,
play with it-whatever is left of it-
I'm sad, my love,
and as I hear you laugh,
I feel the water around my eyes,
my brown eyes, the eyes of a poet,
the eyes of a stranger-
I'm a stranger, my love,
I'm a stranger in a strange land
of secret kisses and lovelorn faces,
of cold bodies huddled together,
hiding behind stiff dresses
and tightly fitting jeans,
I'm a stranger to a kiss,
I'm a stranger to a moist mouth
and a playful tongue,
I'm a stranger to a warm breast,
I stand here bespectacled and confused,
scratching my scraggly beard,
forcing a faint smile-
there is so much pain, my love,
right here in the palm of my hand,
right here in the lump of my throat,
right here in the tightness of my chest,
I'm strung like an instrument
with shrunken testicles
and immobilized toes-
see me tremble, my love,
see me shed a tear
onto this dusty world-
I'm with you, my love,
I'm with you alone,
I'm with you in embrace
of tender passion,
I'm in love with you
and that's why
I'm full of
tears.

poem by Alexander Shaumyan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Warm Leatherette

Warm leatherette,
See the breaking glass,
Beneath the underpass.
Warm leatherette,
Feel the crushing steel,
Feel the steering wheel.
Warm leatherette melts,
On your burning flesh,
You can see your reflection,
On the luminescent dash.
Warm leatherette,
A tear of petrol,
Is in your eye,
The hand brake,
Penetrates your thigh.
A tear of petrol,
Is in your eye,
Quick lets make love,
Before we die.
On warm leatherette,
Join the carcrash set.

song performed by by Grace Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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