A Spinster At Mass
She came in dressed
in the robe of a mayoress
Her hair, curly and golden
Like that of a Roman goddess
She looked round
Her eyes, large and round
Like that of a fancy bulb.
With them she me espied
In a corner under a deck
of this unnamed Church.
Behold, here's a Pandora
at mass,
As she passed;
Not even the parson
could bypass,
He stood there like a dead
wood and stared and stared
Till his eye balls fell
from its sockets
We stared and stared
And still we stood there
and stared
Till our piety fell.
poem by Efe Benjamin
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Related quotes
Your Time Has Come
Now one fell asleep in the street
and he never woke up
And now one died in pieces
whose been with a mouthful of ghosts
And one threatning long ago i saw him
melt in the bright of day
And one laid to rest in the field
on the stories and crawled, hey
I've been walking the sideways
I've stared straight into the sun
Still, I don't know why you're dying
Long before your time has come
Your time has come
Now one took some bullets to the chest and the field gone wrong
One got a little too depressed then he went and jumped the gun
One got shoot right in the face and he somehow
survived
But he doesn't know my name or who I am
and I'm not surprised, hey
I've been walking the sideways
I've stared straight into the sun
Still, i don't know why you're dying
Long before your time has come
Yeah I've been wandering sideways
I've stared straight into the sun
And I don't know why you're dying
Long before your time has come
Your time has come, hey
(Solo)
I've seen fifty thousand names all engraved on a stone
Most of them, met em at a grave years before i was born
All of them left brothers and sisters and mothers behind
And most of their family and friends are alive
everytime
I've been walking the sideways
I've stared straight into the sun
And i don't know why you're dying
Long before your time has come
Yeah I've been wandering sideways
I've stared straight into the sun
And I don't know why you're dying
Long before your time has come (x3)
Your time has come
song performed by by Audioslave
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Murdered Love
I had no choice
I picked it up
And plunged in the knife
Her heart bled out as she stared at me
With a gaze so broken
And a trust so betrayed
That it broke my heart to watch
As I turned away
She screamed as she fell
& breathed her last in the dirt
Upon which she lay
When I turned towards her
Her white dress was red
And her eyes stared up at the sky
I took out the knife
& wiped it as I walked away
Away from the one who had been mine alone
Away from the one who had loved me alone
poem by Khaulah Bilal
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Three Mice Who Hoped
Six mice stared out their door.
The Cat was crouching there.
“Have hope! ” one cried.
“The Dog will come and scare it away! ”
But one mouse ran out, gave up.
In the jaws of Cat he died.
Five mice stared out their door.
Still the feline purred.
“Have hope! ” one cried.
”The Dog will be here soon! ”
But one mouse could wait no more.
In the jaws of Cat she died.
Four mice stared out their door.
The Cat was waiting for them, too.
“Have… hope…” one said.
But one mouse snapped and darted out.
And soon, in jaws of Cat, was dead.
Three mice stared out their door.
The Cat sat ready, claws extended.
“Have… h-hope…” one said.
But one mouse squealed and started –
The one who’d spoken held her down.
“Have hope! ”
For hours more the three mice sat.
The watched, trembling, the mighty Cat.
But still: “Have hope! ” they cried.
Then came the Dog.
The Cat scurried away to hide.
The mice were free at last.
poem by Sophia White
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Today I Stared Love At Her Face
Today I stared love at her face
Its hard to say in what condition I found her in
Two lovers at their worst embrace
Ignorantly blissful
Hidden away was the word beautiful
Today I stared love at her face
upon loves face I saw a tear
her vibrant smile refuses to appear
in the concrete jungle meandering
from lover quarrels is her suffering
today I stared love at her face
and love sometime is to walk away
I closed my eyes to feel a minute pass
Reminded me of the words that nothing last
poem by Raymond Valadez
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Girl Afraid
Girl afraid
Where do his intentions lay ?
Or does he even have any ?
She says :
He never really looks at me
I give him every opportunity
In the room downstairs
He sat and stared
In the room downstairs
He sat and stared
Ill never make that mistake again !
Ill never make that mistake again
Ill never make that mistake again
Boy afraid
Prudence never pays
And everything she wants costs money
But she doesnt even like me !
And I know because she said so
In the room downstairs
She sat and stared
In the room downstairs
She sat and stared
Ill never make that mistake again !
song performed by by Smiths
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Enriched
What was difficult?
A decision made to be me.
A decision to leave,
Everything and everyone...
Who did not grasp,
Their own identity.
And when clarity came,
And stared in my face...
I stood and stared right back!
That was the most difficult thing I did.
And since then...
I recognized,
How many had not done that.
How many,
In fact...
Did not know who or what they were.
And I did not fully realize until I witnessed them...
How long I had been back then,
Like them...
In hiding!
Pretending I knew the life I lived.
But today I do not seek,
Acceptance from anyone to qualify that.
I did not know that finding myself,
Would leave me feeling so enriched!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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One-Sided Conversation
She sat, head bent,
In her old, grey chair,
The blinds were pulled and drawn,
The shadows caught
In the gathering gloom,
But she moved not at all;
Her husband, stood by the old oak door
He'd cleared his throat to speak,
'You wanted to see me, then, ' he said,
A pallor upon his cheek.
She knew, he thought,
She knew full well
His cheating, shiftless ways,
He'd married her more for her money
Than for her wit, her charm or grace.
She'd warned him once
She'd warned him twice,
She'd said that he made her sick,
Now he was the one who was feeling ill
As she still refused to speak.
'I 'spect you want
Me gone, ' he said,
And waited for some response,
She sat, head bent in her favourite chair
As he stood there, like a dunce.
'I need some money,
A thousand pounds,
Will get me out of a fix.'
The way she sat, and stared at the floor
Meant: 'No, I'll give you nix.'
He mopped his forehead
With trembling hands,
The sharks were closing in,
If she didn't come to his rescue, well,
He'd seen what they'd do to him…
'I beg you, think
Of your own good name, '
But she wasn't listening then,
Her face was grim, she stared at the floor,
With nothing left for him.
He went to a drawer
And took a gun,
Then held it up to his head,
'I'd never have thought you could be so cruel
To the man who shares your bed.'
The air grew chill
In the silent room
As he let out a plaintive cry,
The shot rang out, but she didn't move
As he fell to the floor, and died.
The doctor came,
And the police, of course,
But the wife still sat and stared,
The husband lay on the bloodstained rug
As if she'd never cared.
'It's very odd, '
Said the sergeant then,
But the Doctor suppressed a laugh,
'He's only been dead for an hour, ' he said,
'She's been dead for an hour and a half.'
9 April 2008
poem by David Lewis Paget
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I stared into death eyes
i woke up this morning and
i stared into Death eyes.
Death was amazing
he was wearing his black hoodie
and his skeleton bones were red.
Death held up a picture of you
and a picture of me.
i stared into Death eyes.
Death stuck the pictures together
and made them become one.
oh, how i stared into Death eyes.
Death did something to me
he stuck his hand out
i grabbed it and we took a walk.
it was a walk in the park
and then i seen you and there was me
we were married, you wonder how i know,
because i had the prettiest rock on my finger.
we were sitting on a bench
watching 3 little kids
playing on the playground
but then i look closely.
the little girl had eyes like mine
the complextion like mine and ears like you
the boys were twins and they looked exactly like you.
then i thought about it
those are our kids
then i stared into Death eyes.
i ask Death is this reality
Death stops me from breathing
and say suicide is not the answer.
i began to feel wozzy
as if Death was taking all my sins
and all my pain away and repeats
his self 3 times.
suicide is not the answer
suicide is not the answer
suicide is not the answer
and then i wake up
realizing that it was just a dream
a dream indeed.
now i know what it feels like
to stare into the eyes of Death.
now i know that my time wasnt
supposed to end back then,
my time ends with you.
-La'Veranique
*aka* dat girl nickey
poem by Nickey Mason
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Window Shopper
I stood before a candy shop
Which with a Christmas radiance shone;
I saw my parents pass and stop
To grin at me and then go on.
The sweets were heaped in gleamy rows;
On each I feasted - what a game!
Against the glass with flatted nose,
Gulping my spittle as it came;
So still I stood, and stared and dreamed,
Savouring sweetness with my eyes,
Devouring dainties till it seemed
My candy shop was paradise.
I had, I think, but five years old,
And though three-score and ten have passed,
I still recall the craintive cold,
The grimy street, the gritty blast;
And how I stared into that shop,
Its gifts so near and yet so far,
Of marzipan and toffee drop,
Of chocolate and walnut bar;
Imagining what I would buy
Amid delights so rich and rare . . .
The glass was misted with my sigh:
"If just one penny Pop could spare!"
And then when I went home to tea
Of bread and butter sparsely spread,
Oh, how my parents twitted me:
"You stood for full an hour," they said.
"We saw you as we passed again;
Your eyes upon the sweets were glued;
Your nose was flattened to the pane,
Like someone hypnotized you stood."
But when they laughed as at a joke,
A bitterness I could not stem
Within my little heart awoke. . . .
Oh, I have long forgiven them;
For though I know they did no own
Pennies to spare, they might, it seems
More understanding love have shown
More sympathy for those vain dreams,
Which make of me with wistful gaze
God's Window Shopper all days.
poem by Robert William Service
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The Woman In The Short-Shorts. (A Very Funny Story!)
There was a woman wearing very short shorts...
The Husband just stared at them.
You'd of thought that She just had performed a can, can? ...
But still He stared as best as can, only because, He was just a Man.
You might say that 'Her risen hem...
Attracted many Male stares, all of them.
Men just love a curvaceous booty...
Their eyes are always performing their, usual eye candied duty.
That Husband was slapped as hit...
By the looks of His right eye, You'd think Him as landed in a Wasp nest, or an Asp's, or a Rattle snake pit.
Black and blue, as well as exhibiting a nasty, large swell...
Was His right eye, as easily, You'd tell.
This Mild Mannered Husband, would no longer stare...
For the benefit of His eyes, He would really and cautiously care
poem by Michael Gale
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Hannie
Once saw I a goddess pass before my dwelling
Into her eyes I stared and a smile wry got
The image of her beauty ever carved in my heart
Her voice I never knew, and to her name was I a stranger
After the harvest I saw her pass again
My net hard to pull and a little boat nearly overturning
Fishing in the little waters, so shallow for a pony to get across
She came, stood by the bank and asked for a fish
The loveliest of ocean dwellers did I give unto her
With a smile well paid and a look to which I still owe
When again shall I behold her beauty?
And when would the sweetest of voices send music down my heart?
Till next harvest, till the honeycomb shall drip
And the baby birds learn to flap in the breeze
Till the gods again visit us
And the immortals amongst men, come!
poem by Nicholas Boateng
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Check
The night was creeping on the ground;
She crept and did not make a sound
Until she reached the tree, and then
She covered it, and sole again
Along the grass beside the wall.
I heard the rustle of her shawl
As she threw blackness everywhere
Upon the sky and ground and air,
And in the room where I was hid:
But no matter what she did
To everything that was without,
She could not put my candle out.
So I stared at the night, and she
Stared back solemnly at me.
poem by James Stephens
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Tourists
In a strange town in a far land
They met amid a throng;
They stared, they could not understand
How life was sudden song.
As brown eyes looked in eyes of grey
Just for a moment's space,
Twin spirits met with sweet dismay
In that strange place.
And then the mob that swept them near
Reft them away again;
Two hearts in all the world most dear
Knew puzzlement and pain.
They barely brushed in passing by,
A wildered girl and boy,
Who should have clasped with laughing cry,
And wept for joy.
But no, the crowd cleft them apart,
And she went East, he West;
But there was havoc in his heart
And brooding in her breast.
In a far land, in a strange town
Amid a mob they met;
They stared, they passed . . . But O deep down,
Can they forget?
poem by Robert William Service
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Check
The night was creeping on the ground;
She crept and did not make a sound
Until she reached the tree, and then
She covered it, and sole again
Along the grass beside the wall.
I heard the rustle of her shawl
As she threw blackness everywhere
Upon the sky and ground and air,
And in the room where I was hid:
But no matter what she did
To everything that was without,
She could not put my candle out.
So I stared at the night, and she
Stared back solemnly at me.
poem by James Brunton Stephens
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The Web
Two old spinsters
Sitting in the barn,
One used candlewick
The other used yarn,
One wore a bonnet
With a white lace trim,
The other bobbed her hair
With a dragonfly pin.
They spun and they spun
‘Til the bobbins were full,
They'd squeeze out the knots
Put a twist in the wool,
They spun through the day
And on through the night
And glared at each other
If it didn't look right.
While up in the beams
Of the barn overhead
Two spinsters were spinning out
A gossamer thread,
They stared on down
With their little black eyes
And they spun round the bonnet
And the red dragonfly.
The webs floated down
Were glued to each face
With the spinsters spinning
At a frantic pace.
The wheels stopped spinning
With a sudden click-clack
As the spinsters stared
At those eyes, so black.
As the next day dawned
They came to the barn,
The men and the children
Of that little old farm,
The spinsters were spun
In a giant cobweb,
As they sat, eyes staring -
They were stone cold dead!
13 October 2012
poem by David Lewis Paget
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The Return
They turned him loose; he bowed his head,
A felon, bent and grey.
His face was even as the Dead,
He had no word to say.
He sought the home of his old love,
To look on her once more;
And where her roses breathed above,
He cowered beside the door.
She sat there in the shining room;
Her hair was silver grey.
He stared and stared from out the gloom;
He turned to go away.
Her roses rustled overhead.
She saw, with sudden start.
"I knew that you would come," she said,
And held him to her heart.
Her face was rapt and angel-sweet;
She touched his hair of grey;
. . . . .
But he, sob-shaken, at her feet,
Could only pray and pray.
poem by Robert William Service
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Confused
i was walking
along a busy road
of this village
where the sound of
squeaking bikes
abound, and
this old woman
carrying a basket of
fish
stared at me, i
was carrying a book
and an umbrella
it was sunny and
the old woman
stared at me, perhaps
i guess, he must
have missed his son,
perhaps his son
stopped schooling
enlisted himself as
a soldier
because there is no
more money
to spend
for his tuition in
school....
perhaps, his
son died in
combat, and perhaps
his son once had
a book.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I Stood With the Dead
I Stood with the Dead, so forsaken and still:
When dawn was grey I stood with the Dead.
And my slow heart said, 'You must kill, you must kill:
'Soldier, soldier, morning is red'.
On the shapes of the slain in their crumpled disgrace
I stared for a while through the thin cold rain...
'O lad that I loved, there is rain on your face,
'And your eyes are blurred and sick like the plain.'
I stood with the Dead ... They were dead; they were dead;
My heart and my head beat a march of dismay:
And gusts of the wind came dulled by the guns.
'Fall in!' I shouted; 'Fall in for your pay!'
poem by Siegfried Sassoon
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A Musician's Wife
Between the visits to the shock ward
The doctors used to let you play
On the old upright Baldwin
Donated by a former patient
Who is said to be quite stable now.
And all day long you played Chopin,
Badly and hauntingly, when you weren't
Screaming on the porch that looked
Like an enormous birdcage. Or sat
In your room and stared out at the sky.
You never looked at me at all.
I used to walk down to where the bus stopped
Over the hill where the eucalyptus trees
Moved in the fog, and stared down
At the lights coming on, in the white rooms.
And always, when I came back to my sister's
I used to get out the records you made
The year before all your terrible trouble,
The records the critics praised and nobody bought
That are almost worn out now.
Now, sometimes I wake in the night
And hear the sound of dead leaves
against the shutters. And then a distant
Music starts, a music out of an abyss,
And it is dawn before I sleep again.
poem by Weldon Kees
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What Matilda Said
Matilda closed the door. Matilda
Saw Millie by the window. Her maid’s
Uniform looked tight at the rear. She
Wanted to place her arms around her
Waist, kiss her neck. Millie turned and
Said, He’s out there with Mrs Dimmable.
Matilda walked to the window and stared.
She sensed Millie beside her; heard her
Breathing, the brush of her sleeve against
Her arm. Looks happy enough, Matilda said
Of Mrs. Dimmable. You didn’t sleep too well
Last night, Millie said, turning, going to the
Bed. She pulled back the covers, smoothed
Out the sheet. Matilda went around the other
Side of the bed and looked at Millie. You were
Tossing and turning, Millie said looking up.
Matilda helped make the bed and said, Sorry
About that. Millie stared at Matilda and said
You murmured words. Did I? Matilda replied.
Yes, Millie said, looking at her hands. What did
I say? Matilda asked. You muttered my name.
Millie stood back from the bed, gazed at Matilda.
You said things. What things? Said you loved me.
Millie blushed at the words. Matilda patted the
Pillow but said nothing. She brushed her hands
Over the covers, pushed away creases. She paused.
Looked at the window. Smelt the flowers in a vase.
Do you? Millie asked. Love me? Matilda stared
Out at Mrs Dimmable and the new gardener.
Her lips wanted to move but nothing came.
Her eyes watered. The world was awash. Millie
Walked to the window, put her arms around Matilda’s
Waist, her fingers formed a knot on Matilda’s stomach.
Matilda placed her hands over Millie’s.
They do look in love and contented don’t they?
Millie said over Matilda’s shoulder. Matilda’s sensed
The warm breath. Yes, she said, they do. Do you?
Millie’s breath uttered softly into her ear, yes.
poem by Terry Collett
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