I Want to Meet the Person who Made the Chair
I want to meet
The person who made
The chair
Kings and Politicians
Fight for the chair
Fight may be fair unfair
One goes other comes
The chair remains
Always Waiting
For the old to go
New to occupy
I keep thinking
If only benches were there
Hundreds
Could have sat on them
Fights and killings
Would have been less
Less enmity
Less blood shed
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
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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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Blue Chair
Now its just you and me, my blue friend
And you say that its you that shes thinking of
And our affair must end
But if its you that shes thinking of
I think my broken heart might mend
Chorus: now its my turn to talk and your turn to think
Your turn to buy and my turn to drink
Your turn to cry and my turn to sink down in the blue chair
Down in the blue chair
Now Ive made up my mind Ive made my mistake
And I know that she cries for you
When shes barely awake
Well shes going to bend your mind
Well I hope it dont break
Chorus
Down in the blue chair
We can watch our troubles rise
Like smoke into the air
And drift up to the ceiling
Down in the blue chair
You can feel just like a boy or a man
And next minute you can find yourself kneeling
Down in the blue chair
Theyre boasting of loving the daylights right out of her in the small hours
Down in the blue chair
You say that your love lasts forever when you know the night just hours
And still I want her right now
Not any minute, hour or day
And wherever she is tonight
I want her anyway
I suppose she never said to you,
You were just in the way
Chorus
Down in the blue chair
Down in the blue
Blue becomes you
Down in the blue chair
song performed by by Elvis Costello
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 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.
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 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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Red Chair Fade Away
Red chair fade away
bring back memories
Think of something nice
Fragrant lemon trees
I can feel the speaking sky
I don't want to know
It's filling up the air
Grandpa's fairy tale
Red chair round the fire
Rainbows all the time
We're all going higher
I can feel the speaking sky
I don't want to know
It's filling up the air
Red chair fade away
Red chair fade away
Red chair fade away
Red chair fade away
Red chair fade away
Bring back memories
Think of something nice
Fragrant lemon trees
I can feel the speaking sky
I don't want to know
It's filling up the air
Red chair fade away....
Red chair fade away....
song performed by by Bee Gees from Bee Gees 1st
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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So I was at the Actor's Studio, thinking about this, and I happened to glance over to the other side of the stage and I saw the ugliest chair I have ever seen. And I thought, 'Well, I could kill that chair!'
quote by Ellen Burstyn
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wish For Release
Scared to return to the office to sit
in a chair that does not meet the
need for a correct sitting position
as the desk is too high for the office
chair I bought myself and the bar
stool I have is causing neck-ache
I don't know who to ask and where
to go to get my work station fixed
and raise the computer screen so
my head is not forced to hang down
and increase the pain in my neck,
I receive medication to force
my brain to ignore the pain
Will this help me to sit in the wrong
position until I am dead in my chair?
I ardently wish for release in what-
ever way if I cannot be freed from
the chair and the pain...
Saturday 21 June 2012
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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You give me electric chair. I no afraid of that chair! You're one of capitalists. You is crook man too. Put me in electric chair. I no care!
quote by Giuseppe Zangara
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Musical chair
Musical chair is not mine
I can not share the musical chair with others.
I never play with musical chair
I do not believe musical chair can be played.
I believe mine is mine
And yours is yours.
I can not take away your right
You can not take away mine.
The world is here, look
With a musical chair.
I am here and also you are.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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The Man Who Discovered The Use Of A Chair
The man who discovered the use of a chair,
_Odds--bobs--
What a wonderful man!_
He used to sit down on it, tearing his hair,
Till he thought of a highly original plan.
For years he had sat on his chair, like you,
_Quite--still!
But his looks were grim_
For he wished to be famous (as great men do)
And nobody ever would listen to him.
Now he went one night to a dinner of state
_Hear! hear!
In the proud Guildhall!_
And he sat on his chair, and he ate from a plate;
But nobody heard his opinions at all;
There were ten fat aldermen down for a speech
(_Grouse! Grouse!
What a dreary bird!_)
With five fair minutes allotted to each,
But never a moment for him to be heard.
But, each being ready to talk, I suppose,
_Order! Order!_
They cried, _for the Chair!_
And, much to their wonder, our friend arose
And fastened his eye on the eye of the Mayor.
'We have come,' he said, 'to the fourteenth course!
'_High--time,
for the Chair_,' he said.
Then, with both of his hands, and with all of his force,
He hurled his chair at the Lord Mayor's head.
It missed that head by the width of a hair.
_Gee--whizz!
What a horrible squeak!_
But it crashed through the big bay-window there
And smashed a bus into Wednesday week.
And the very next day, in the decorous Times
(_Great--Guns--
How the headlines ran!_)
In spite of the kings and the wars and the crimes,
There were five full columns about that man.
ENVOI
Oh, if you get dizzy when authors write
(_My stars!
And you very well may!_)
That white is black and that black is white,
You should sit, quite still, in your chair and say:
It is easy enough to be famous now,
(_Puff--Puff!
How the trumpets blare!_)
Provided, of course, that you don't care how,
Like the man who discovered the use of a chair.
poem by Alfred Noyes
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I limited myself to introduce a change in my way of thinking and the way I see things. When I look at my child, I do it in a different way then when I'm contemplating a chair. They are different... the child is a living being, and the chair is an object.
The Chair
Well, excuse me, but I think youve got my chair.
No, that ones not taken, I dont mind
If you sit here, Ill be glad to share.
Yeah, its usually packed here on friday nights.
Oh, if you dont mind, could I talk you out of a light.
Well, thank you, could I drink you a buy?
Oh, listen to me, what I mean is can I buy you a drink?
Anything you please.
Oh, youre welcome, well, I dont think I caught your name.
Are you waiting for someone to meet you here?
Well, that makes two of us glad you came.
No, I dont know the name of the band, but theyre good.
Arent they, would you like to dance?
Yeah, I like this song too, it reminds me of you and me.
Well, baby do you think theres a chance
That later on I could drive you home?
No, I dont mind at all.
Oh, I like you too, and to tell you the truth
That wasnt my chair after all.
Oh, I like you too, and to tell you the truth
That wasnt my chair after all.
song performed by by George Strait
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Management of Grief
pick up a book,
put it down.
pick up a book,
put it down.
go outside.
sit in the red chair.
get up from the red chair.
sit in the grass.
pick the grass.
eat the grass.
throw the grass away,
sit on the steps.
pick up a rock.
scratch a circle
on a step
with the rock.
put the rock down.
sit in the red chair.
kick the red chair.
eat the red chair, eat the book.
poem by Mary Frances Farrow
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The Problem With You
is that
you are too normal for a man,
what normal is, i define it
you are too formal
like a chair
there are other chair possibilities you have not tried
for instance
having only one foot
and still be proud to stand as a chair
on a chain of possibilities
the problem with you is you rhyme like their poem
and you become just like them
a factory made word
another boring mechanism
like a wooden panel without beauty
without the
aha! or
what is this? is this man? is this a chair?
is this a poem?
try something else
wobbling, whirling
a tornado, you haven't been one yet
a storm, an eye
a vacuum, an eclipse
a waste basket, a moon let
a planet, a sunrise without light?
do not just be stanza
be a word misspelled
be an error uncorrected
be a dog with feathers
a pink niche, a broken pen
an expelled meteor
a fallen angel.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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That Old Rockin Chair
Mama, words can't express
How I feel about you
Especially at this Christmastime
You went out of your way,
Thoughtful gifts that you gave
A love of giving, you passed on to us
Christmastime, Lord I love you
Sometimes life just doesn't seem fair
Christmastime, oh I miss you
I still see you in that old rockin' chair
You were always there for me
Through all of your life
I still miss our telephone calls
The jokes that you told
And the laughter we shared
Oh Lord, that's what I miss the most
Christmastime, Lord I love you
Sometimes life just doesn't seem fair
Christmastime, oh I miss you
Sittin' in that old rockin' chair
Bridge:
Lord, keep her safe in your arms
Right where she belongs
'Cause I know she's in heaven
Mama, you're finally home
Oh, you're finally home
Christmastime, Lord I love you
Sometimes life just doesn't seem fair
Christmastime, oh I miss you
Sittin' in that old rockin' chair
I still see you in that old rockin' chair
Merry Christmas
Always know that I'm thinking of you
Merry Christmas
Mama, I will always love you
song performed by by 38 Special
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Chair
We sat at the table talking
when we noticed from the corner of our eyes
the door seemed to open and close again.
No one took much notice of it;
each thinking it was a draft that had caught it.
Then we watched amazed
as the chair at the far end of the room
began to move on its own.
Each time it caught our attention the chair stopped.
Turning back to our conversation
from the corner of our eyes,
we watched the chair move again.
Each time it inched closer
towards the table where we sat.
Our guests and we were hypnotised
by the spectacular of the moving chair.
We had lived here for many years
and nothing like this had ever happened before.
We all watched intently the chair
with not a word being spoken.
Whatever was moving it
could clearly not be seen.
Someone smiled and said,
“That is a neat trick you must tell us all
just how you’ve done it.”
I shook my head and replied,
“It is not us doing this.”
Faces paled at the thought
of the chair moving on its own.
The chair then stopped
and the outline of a figure appeared,
its eyes were flaming red
and it stared intently at us all.
“Who are you? ” Someone asked.
“Who do you wish I be? ” The reply came
from a voice that seemed to surround us.
You could see the fear begin to inherit everyone’s eyes
as the eyes of whatever looked around at everyone.
A crackling laughter then arose.
“Who are you? ” I asked,
“You are frightening everyone.
I tell you now you were not invited;
your presence is not welcome here.
Be gone I say, be gone and leave us in peace.”
The flaming eyes stared at me
as if to devour my soul.
Outside a lightning bolt struck,
its explosion made us jump.
When we looked back,
the chair was where it should be
and the flaming red eyes were gone.
Was this an hallucination
or did we really see a ghost.
Whatever, when we returned to talking,
we abandoned the conversation
of strange phenomena we were discussing
before our encounter.
15 November 2009
poem by David Harris
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The Plain
I was alone with a chair on a plain
Which lost itself in an empty horizon.
The plain was flawlessly paved.
Nothing, absolutely nothing but the chair and I
were there.
The sky was forever blue,
No sun gave life to it.
An inscrutable, insensible light
illuminated the infinite plain.
To me this eternal day seemed to be projected --
artificially-- from a different sphere.
I was never sleepy nor hungry nor thirsty,
never hot nor cold.
Time was only an abstruse ghost
since nothing happened or changed.
In me Time still lived a little
This, mainly, thanks to the chair.
Because of my occupation with it
I did not completely
lose my sense of the past.
Now and then I'd hitch myself, as if I were a horse, to the chair
and trot around with it,
sometimes in circles,
and sometimes straight ahead.
I assume that I succeeded.
Whether I really succeeded I do not know
Since there was nothing in space
By which I could have checked my movements.
As I sat on the chair I pondered sadly, but not desperately,
Why the core of the world exuded such black light.