All Women Are Sisters
Learnign for you,
reading for you,
Singing for you,
Eating for you,
Writing for you,
Waiting for you,
Cooking for you;
But, all women are siters!
And, like the joy of your love in the land of the living;
But, you will always look for me.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Your Ways
What i want you to do is not what you are doing,
What i want you to write is not what you are writing,
What i want you to sing is not what you are singing,
What i want you to eat is not what you are eating,
What i want you to sell is not what you are selling,
What i want you read is not what you are reading,
What i want you to plant is not what you are planting,
What i want you to buy is not what you are buying,
What i want you kick is not what you are kicking,
What i want you to drink is not what you are drinking,
What i want you to kiss is not what you are kissing,
What i want you to build is not what you are building,
What i want you to cook is not what you are cooking,
What i want you to dress is not what you are dressing,
What i want you to bake is not what you are baking,
What i want you to dig is not what you are digging,
What i want you to fish is not what you are fishing,
What i want you to drive is not what you are driving,
And this love is becoming more complex than ever!
For your ways are not my ways.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Was Raised by Poem
I was raised by soul food cooking.
Talking while eating
come on down an get your self a plate
Kind of women.
'girl laid back and let me braid your'
Sorta women
Some longlegged, shortlegged
Kind of women.
Dark brown, hip shaking
Miniskirt wearing
' I know I look fine tonight'
Sorta women
Some coffee sipping
Not getting married to soon
Better say yes sir
To him type of brother
Some hip shaking, leg swinging
Kind of women
Singing loud
Type of sisiter
Some hands swinging
Hands on hips
' Don't mess with my baby'
Type of women
Some writing
World traveling Type of queens
My family raised me
poem by Courtney Jones
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It Is The 'ing' Of Things Which Are Real
ongoing, loving, living,
existing, thinking,
agonizing, forgiving,
accepting,
drinking, thirsting,
eating, filling, filing,
reading, writing, singing,
philosophizing, mesmerizing,
sitting, setting, making, carrying,
bleeding, healing, bullying,
touching, merrymaking, seeding, planting, growing
these are the 'ings'
for they are real, and true and beautiful
keep going, keeping, storing, giving, releasing, freeing, seething, soothing, ....ing, , , , , ing....inging...there is no stopping of these 'ings'
moving living singing flying floating diving dying.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Land Of The Living
i found myself
in another world
i found myself
alive and well
i am the vapor
i am the gas
you be the angel
of everything
this is the land of the living
this is the land of reprisal
this is the land of the living
the living
the living
i lost myself
too wide a plane
i opened up
i'm not the same
i am electric
made of wire
you be the match
i'll be the fire
this is the land of the living
this is the land of reprisal
this is the land of the living
the living
the living
the living
in myself i try for you
walk a thousand miles to get us through
airways
jet planes
safe landings
no branding
land
land
this is the land of the living
the land of reprisal
this is the land of the living
the land of survival
survival
land
land
this is the land of the living
the living
the living
the living
song performed by by Bush from Golden State
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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And What Is Your Wife Doing?
well, she is in the music room
singing the Anne Murray songs
as i make my poems for the day
writing about Anne Murray
and why do you ask? oh i know
it is true we are not talking, precisely
because she is singing and i am into
this poetry writing and yes, i ask you
why do you keep on reading?
every poem that i write, oh my, why?
alright, friends forever there shall be
no denying, and too truth telling, see?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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For the most part this is a place to find down-to-earth advice on everyday cooking, eating, food shopping, cooking equipment, and nice things to put on your table.
quote by Arthur Schwartz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Look Toward The Land
Live performance
Well, I dreamed I was a gypsy riding the land
With a tambourine and a gypsy queen
And a rainbow caravan
Happy old land sailor, yeah, that's what I want to be
Stealing diamonds from the rich men to throw in the sea
Singing look toward the land
'cause the land holds the key
Keep an eye on the land
And an eye on man
Well, I dreamed I was a cabin boy
On an American Clipper line
Watering flowers for the captain
That they may not wilt
Bringing cargo to colonies of South Caroline
On the best ol' Clipper Dave McKay ever built
Singing look toward the land
'cause the land is the key
Singing keep an eye on the land
And an eye on the sea
Well, I dreamed I was your lover
'Cause that's what I want to be
And I dreamed that every night you dreamed only of me
And we walked along the beach, and ooh, we held hands
And I told you you were my only woman
And I was your only man
Singing look toward the lovers
For they are the key
Keep an eye on the lovers
And an eye on the war machine
Yes I dreamed I was a captain of a river queen
Caressing Mississippi waters down to New Orleans
Yeah, a happy ol' riverboat captain, that's what I'd like to be
And I'd let you ride my honey, I'd let you ride her for free
Singing look toward the river
'Cause the river's the key
Keep an eye on the river
And an eye on the sea
Well, I dreamed I was your friend
'Cause that's what I want to be
And every night, you had dreams
And they were all of me
We'd walk all the streets together
Hand in hand
And be kind to the women
And the women be kind to the me
song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Custers Blues
Well you look just like general custer
On the day of his last stand
Heading up into the black hills
Glorious and grand
I saw it by your side
A map in your hand
Heading up into the rain
Singing this land is your land
Now Ive seen your dust a-rising
And Ive seen your numbers swell
Ive seen you crossing the badlands
And Ive heard your captains yell
Ive watched you when youre sleeping
Ive seen you filling up your can
Thinking as you work
That this land is your land
But now youre bursting into my country
Youre messing up my fields
Youre playing games with my holy places
Youre tearing the earth with your wheels
Right now your star is ascending
And your head is bursting with pride
But I wonder if custer was still singing
this land is my land when he died
Was he still singing this is my land when he died
Was he singing that its my land when he died
Was he singing when he died
Was he singing when he died
Was he singing its my land when he died
When he died...
Was he singing when he died
song performed by by Waterboys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Harmless devices
Man experience sex in women’s company,
In gazing them in prints and celluloid,
In reading and hearing of women,
In talking and writing of them
And in longing for and pining about them.
Thus the society saves itself
From men’s mischief.
06.06.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To The Land
To the land of bribes,
To the land of telephones,
To the land of corruptions,
To the land of trains,
To the land of shops,
To the land of thieves,
To the land of connections,
To the land of drugs,
To the land of trucks,
To the land of cats,
To the land of Banks,
To the land of dogs, To the land of footballers,
To the land of dragons,
To the land of hope,
To the land of ice-cream,
To the land of potatoes,
To the land of chocolates,
To the land of tomatoes,
To the land of apples,
To the land of coffee,
To the land of lights,
To the land of ships,
To the land of birds,
To the land of tigers,
To the land of carpets,
To the land of pillows,
To the land of lions,
TO the land of toys,
To the land of horses,
To the land of beds,
To the land of roses,
To the land of love,
To the land of passion,
To the land of romance;
I never new women do snore until i married one.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Women & Men
When the ship runs out of ocean
And the vessel runs aground
Land's where we know the boat is found
Now there's nothing unexpected
About the water giving out
"land's" not a word we have to shout.
But there's something beside the shoreline
Moving across the beachhead
Coming up from the shipwreck
Making as if to say:
Women & men
Women & men
Women & men
Women & men
(women & men) bringing with them messages of love
And every where they go love will grow (love will grow)
(women & men) when you see the faces of the women
And the men, you too will know (you will know)
Women & men have crossed the ocean
They now begin to pour
Out from the boat and up the shore
Two by two they enter the jungle
And soon they number more
Three by three as well as four by four
Soon the stream of people gets wider
Then it becomes a river
River becomes an ocean
Carrying ships that bear
Women & men
Women & men
Women & men
Women & men
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Primary Education
Read
Reading will let you know many things
Reading is a good habit.
(Read)
Write
Writing will convey your message
Day and night.
(Write)
Paint
Painting is a way to express your thought
Paint even if you are a saint.
(Paint)
Sing
Singing is a way to express emotions
Let singing be your engagement ring.
(Sing)
Dance
Dancing will wipe out your pain
So don’t miss the chance.
(Dance)
poem by Asif Andalib
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bring Me a Poem, Sing Me a Song
Sing me a song, read me a poem
Bring a poem, sing me a song
Sing me a "Je t'aime"
And don't stop reading the long
And beautiful poem that I composed for you
Oh! The moon is bright and the sky is blue
Keep on reading, keep on singing
Bring me the flowers of summer and spring
Keep on singing, keep on reading.
Canta me una bella canción.
Teach me a wonderful lesson.
Love is in the air, the poets are happy,
And the women at the beach are really pretty.
Bring me a poem, sing me a song;
This time, you cannot go wrong.
Sing me a song; read me a long poem,
So I can enjoy this fantastic season,
For the right and appropriate reason,
Because you just told me "Que tu m'aimes,
That you love me, Que tu me amas".
Tell me more; read me more, at last!
Sing me more, bring me more flowers,
More poems, more songs and more jitters.
poem by Hebert Logerie
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You Sing And I Write
you sing and i write
you sing louder
and i write some more
as i do not sleep
as early as you
want to
to sleep with you and keep you warm
and keep you happy
and so secure
and then you stop singing
as i still go on writing and writing and writing and writing still
without minding that you already stopped singing
and you wished
that this house burns itself
that i too burn myself with it
that i may finally become ash
that i finally be blown by air as nothing but dust
and then she may finally continue
her singing and even dancing
and learn to fiddle the strings her new violin
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Of Sonya And Tracy
i am reading your lyrics
and like mifael and candice
i hear the guitar strings of tracy
i see a lover waiting for you
at the crossroad of longing
i can smell the kinkiness of hair
the strong song of a man
agains this dark horizon
singing his soul singing himself
see his soul see his self and
then the music stops and then
sonya you hear the birds singing.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Cooking Pot
our cooking pot is not made of porcelain
or silver or gold but it is made of the mud
of this earth
hardened by time and fire and too much
waiting
our patience consumed
our waiting had been too long about this cooking
pot, earthen
where we put all our dreams and cook them
like rice
porridge, all of our dreams
fired by the woods of our reminiscence
our longings our loneliness our daily concerns
our future wishes
and then when the time comes to open
and see and smell what rice porridge is
we say we like it we say we love it
only to be repulsed by this visitor in the house
'this is not cooking! This is not good! ' and he stares at us
and says, we need more fire, more wood, more time
to have the perfect porridge
i went out unable to stand this hunger
unable to see what this visitor says
it is our fault we allowed him in
we open our doors and windows and let him sleep in our room
as we lay on the floors and keep ourselves on the stairs.
'this is too much' i said.
'he must leave this house at once' i told you.
this is our pot. this is our porridge. this is our cooking.
and we must eat. we must love what we have.
'get out of my house' i said.
and then i am relieved from an opression.
i am happier now. My pot is earthen. Its bottom is sooty black.
i am blue. And i do not really mind.
This is my porridge. You may take it, if you like.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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MaMa's Cooking
Thinking of times I would say what's cooking everyday
It's an assortment of goodie things
Chocolate, pies and banana pudding
Enough food and that's Mama's cooking
Thinking of times I would say what's cooking everyday
Apron in hand and lasting impression I didn't want to miss
Everything seem perfect from beginning to end
Enough food and that's Mama's Cooking
Thinking of times I would say what's cooking everyday
Smiling faces and a gentle speech of o.k.
Noone knows how much the void I can't fill
Enough food and that Mama's Cooking
Thinking of times I would say what's cooking everyday
Being polite and sincere would carry the weight
Seemingly enough she has the greater plan
Enough food and that Mama's Cooking ahead
Thinking of times I would say what's cooking everyday
The napkins, plates and never-ending why didn't it last
Noone knows how much the void I can't fill
Enough food and that's Mama's Cooking again
Thinking of times I would say what's cooking everyday
Craving for the turkey and dressing pan
Not to admit, seemed a bit much
Enough Food and that's Mama's Cooking again
So nowadays, I look for the needle in the haystack
Wishing on the times, she would come back
It's been 10 years, since I said thoughs word's
Enough food and that Mama's blessing for us
Missing mom everyday becomes second-nature for me
Enough food, Enough love and One day she'll see
For know I'll take her spirits with me and others will speak
Enough food, Enough love and One day she'll see
poem by Natasha McGee
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If Heaven Were To Fall
I'm going crazy my world is turning hazy
I never realized how close it
was until this day
So changes, I missed them all believe me
I'll take the fall but damn it,
wish I could pray for you to stay
Aaah...
Why so suddenly, it sure took
time to see
Aaah...
Why should I believe, that you are
there for me
I see the writing on the wall and know
the way I want to go
And even if the heaven were to fall,
I'll still be waiting
I see the writing on the wall and
I just wanna let you know
That even if the heaven were to fall
I'll still be waiting
I'm waiting, I'm waiting, I'm gonna be waiting waiting...
This time I'm standning, I'm coming
in for landing
I wanna see if all the dreams
we have can be for real
No chances, I want you to believe me
I know it isn't easy, wish I could show you
how I feel
Aaah...
Why so suddenly, it sure took
time to see
Aaah...
Why should I believe
that you are there for me
I see the writing on the wall
and know the way I want to go
And even if the heaven were to fall
I'll still be waiting
I see the writing on the wall and
I just wanna let you to know
That even if the heaven were to fall
I'll still be waiting
I see the writing on the wall and even if heaven were to fall...
song performed by by E-type
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Papa
Papa, this is your son writing to you from a very strange land;
There is air on this land but with the floating minds that muses,
And of the power of love and the power of the muse that it brings.
I have been able to live here for many years and,
I have taken your words and i am now myself over here.
This is a very strange land with no air,
But your words had taken me in that far;
For up and close and personal is the muse that the land shares.
I am living on this strange land with my lover,
But my heart will grow on to fulfil my dreams;
Papa, it is all coming back to you now!
For your words are my weapons over here to muse up with others.
The immortality of the mortals seems far from this dream,
And i will always do my best to get you the news from here always;
But if the walls could talk, they could have told you much already.
I will give up on this dream and,
Living in this strange land will be my weapon ahead;
For, i left home to be able to satisfy you people as well.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Winston
Forts and towers,
The assurance of your love is in the eating!
But your peaceful habitations are like the game of love.
I have been waiting for you and,
I know that you care;
But Winston is with you in the room,
And like a measuring line in the land of your muse.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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