Suicide of a Moderate Dictator
This is a day when truths will out, perhaps;
leak from the dangling telephone earphones
sapping the festooned switchboards' strength;
fall from the windows, blow from off the sills,
—the vague, slight unremarkable contents
of emptying ash-trays; rub off on our fingers
like ink from the un-proof-read newspapers,
crocking the way the unfocused photographs
of crooked faces do that soil our coats,
our tropical-weight coats, like slapped-at moths.
Today's a day when those who work
are idling. Those who played must work
and hurry, too, to get it done,
with little dignity or none.
The newspapers are sold; the kiosk shutters
crash down. But anyway, in the night
the headlines wrote themselves, see, on the streets
and sidewalks everywhere; a sediment's splashed
even to the first floors of apartment houses.
This is a day that's beautiful as well,
and warm and clear. At seven o'clock I saw
the dogs being walked along the famous beach
as usual, in a shiny gray-green dawn,
leaving their paw prints draining in the wet.
The line of breakers was steady and the pinkish,
segmented rainbow steadily hung above it.
At eight two little boys were flying kites.
poem by Elizabeth Bishop
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Related quotes
I Wrote Nothing Today
I WROTE NOTHING TODAY
I wrote nothing today
I did not do my work
I played around
I read what I wanted
I searched the Internet for nonsense
I did not face the work and reality I have
I wrote nothing today
I did nothing today
I am to blame
The world will fall apart
The sky will never be blue again
The night will go on forever
No birds will sing and no rivers will flow
All the trees will lose their green-
I did nothing today
It's all over
I did nothing today and I am nothing and I will forever be nothing
And I am ashamed of being nothing and guilty for being nothing
And still I am nothing
And writing this does not make me something either
Because it is not the work I am supposed to do
Which I am still escaping
What a loser I am
What a failure-
After this tirade
Will I at last have the courage to begin the real work now?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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The reason we have not gone to newspapers is because its a slow growth industry and I think they are dying. I'm not sure there will be newspapers in 10 years. I read newspapers every day. I even read Murdoch's Wall Street Journal.
quote by Sumner Redstone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Connoisseurs
O look at the horses and people!
How they hurry and trample and fight!
And the smoke blowing over the steeple,--
O look, how the guns shine bright!
See this one, this soldier, he's swinging
His sword over head in the air;
How the shot must be leaping and stinging!
See the men falling down everywhere!
Isn't this what the white folks call the war?
I wonder what they are doing it for.
And there's the big flag flying splendid,
White stars pretty red, pretty blue,
All torn. Do you think 'twill be mended,
And fly out again, good as new?
See the blue coats and gray coats, --I'm sorry
They bleed and they suffer and die;
What made all the fighting and worry?
Can you think of the reason why
They killed each other, the gray and the blue?
O dusky children, it was for you!
poem by Celia Thaxter
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Primrose Hill
A man opened his window and stared up primrose hill
Out there enjoying themselves Ive seen them from this sill
Green splashed with white and red going brown
Children baiting animals running up and down
I stare out of this window
See the world go past
Slipping from the newspapers stacked against the wall
Piles of colour supplements squeeze between his fall
For a fleeting second I was up that hill
Although Ive never been there I wish I was there still
I stare out of this window
See the world go past
Ive read and looked at everything
I know it off by heart
Deliveries every day newspapers and food
Never had to venture out the phone has been removed
Open up the window and stare up primrose hill
Sitting here its dark outside and everything is still
I stare out of this window
See the world go past
Ive read and looked at everything
I know it off by heart
song performed by by Madness
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The 'Poem A Day' Project - Day 85
I wake up at 6pm
Wash and dress and shave and then
Get in my car, to work I drive along
I’m working throughout the night
Though I’m still feeling bright
Even though midnight has come and gone
Late night radio has no DJ
Line of music just plays away
And no one else seems to be awake
Working hard the time flies past
Keep on going until at last
The sky grows light and the dawn starts to break
Work all finished heading home
The streets are empty I drive alone
The sky is blue and the birds start to shout
I drag myself back into bed
Try to rest my tired head
While my body clock tries to work it out
poem by Flying Lemming
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And in the Second World War, you didn't just read about it in the newspapers because you weren't allowed to read it in the newspapers. It was all censored, you know? So nobody knew what we were doing.
quote by Patrick Macnee
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Layin It On The Line
You see it every day in every way
We all hear the same routines
They all say that its okay
Just let us take care of everything
So we lay it on the line
Layin it on the line (layin it on the line)
Layin it all, right on the line
Just layin it on the line (layin it on the line)
Layin it all, were livin on the front line
I can see it in the faces
We got trouble in the streets tonight
And power keeps us in our places
And it doesnt matter if youre left or right
You lay it on the line
Layin it on the line (layin it on the line)
Just layin it all, right on the line
Layin it on the line, (layin it on the line)
Layin it all, right on the line
Take it to the wilderness
Into the jungle sun
Lookin for the voice of reason
Inside this babylon
Got u.s. boys on foreign soil
Spillin their blood to keep the peace
Cities will vanish in turmoil
While the sheiks lay sleepin on the beach
We lay it on the line
Layin it on the line (layin it on the line)
Layin it all, right on the line
Just layin it on the line (layin it on the line)
Layin it all, right on the line
Layin it on the line
Just layin it all
Layin it on the line
Just layin it all
song performed by by Jefferson Starship
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Layin It On The Line
You see it every day in every way
We all hear the same routines
They all say that its okay
Just let us take care of everything
So we lay it on the line
Chorus:
Layin it on the line, layin it on the line
Layin it all, right on the line
Just layin it on the line, layin it on the line
Layin it all, were livin on the front line
I can see it in the faces
We got trouble in the streets tonight
And power keeps us in our places
And it doesnt matter if youre left or right
You lay it on the line
Layin it on the line, layin it on the line
Just layin it all, right on the line
Layin it on the line, layin it on the line
Layin it all, right on the line
Take it to the wilderness
Into the jungle sun
Lookin for the voice of reason
Inside this babylon
(guitar solo)
Got u.s. boys on foreign soil
Spillin their blood to keep the peace
Cities will vanish in turmoil
While the sheiks lay sleepin on the beach
We lay it on the line
Layin it on the line, layin it on the line
Layin it all, right on the line
Just layin it on the line, layin it on the line
Layin it all, right on the line
Layin it on the line
Just layin it all
Layin it on the line
Just layin it all
song performed by by Starship
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Beautiful Lies
Beautiful lies
Take us on the wings of might
Towards the skies infinite
And then dropp us on the heaps of truths-
Brutal truths buried.
Beautiful lies
Get painted on a marvelleous canvas of light
Against the background in twillight
And then shed the shadows of truths-
Barren truths ferried.
Beautiful lies
Send the beams of delight
In the dark chambers made of granite
And then surmount me with truths-
Nightmarish truths married.
Still in the thick coats of beautiful lies
I veil my frame when the Sun is on
And in the cradle of their rhymes
I find my sleep when the Fun is gone.
poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
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Bob
I had a friend that took a blet, took a blet and hung himself
Hung himself in the doorway of the apartment where he lived
His woman and his little bro came home from the grocery store
Only to find him dangling in the apartment where he lived
I had a friend who shaved his head
Put his doctor martins on
And drew such wondrous pictures in the apartment where he lived
He praised my creativity, though he spoke sarcastically
Oh, the conversations in the apartment where he lived
I had a friend that took a blet, took a belt and hung himself
Hung himself in the doorway of the apartment where he lived
Rock, she thought him spiteful; ler, he thought him pitiful
Me, Ive never been back to the apartment where he lived
song performed by by Primus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Go For It
Everybodys wasting time
Everybody stands in line
Think of babe ruth
And you think of hot dogs and beer
But if he could hit a home run so could you
And your weight is just nowhere near
Am I making myself quite clear?
Is that the best you can do?
Go for it, go for it, go for it, go for it
If thats the best you can do
Get out of my place
Take anyones place
Come last in the race, but
Go for it, go for it, go for it, go for it
The clock is ticking on the wall
Everybody has to take a fall
Think of ray charles
And you think of sunglasses at night
But if he can play piano so can you
And you can tell black from white
Can you tell me that Im not right?
Is that the best you can do?
Go for it, go for it, go for it, go for it
If thats the best you can do
Get out of my life
Be anyones life
And do what you like, but
Go for it, go for it, go for it, go for it
Go for it, go for it, go for it, go for it
Go for it, go for it, go for it, go for it
Go for it, go for it, go for it, go for it
Think of babe ruth
And you think of hot dogs and beer
But if he could hit a home run so could you
And your weight is just nowhere near
Am I making myself quite clear?
Is that the best you can do?
Go for it, go for it, go for it, go for it
If thats the best you can do
Get out of your shell, be anyones pal
Do bad or do well, but
Go for it, go for it, go for it, go for it
song performed by by Joe Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The House
In dreams
the same bad dream goes on.
Like some gigantic German toy
the house has been rebuilt
upon its kelly-green lawn.
The same dreadful set,
the same family of orange and pink faces
carved and dressed up like puppets
who wait for their jaws to open and shut.
Nineteen forty-two,
nineteen forty-three,
nineteen forty-four…
it's all the same. We're at war.
They've rationed the gas for all three cars.
The Lincoln Continental breathes in its stall,
a hopped up greyhound waiting to be sprung.
The Irish boy
who dated her
(lace curtain Irish, her mother said)
urges her through the lead-colored garages
to feel the patent-leather fenders
and peek at the mileage.
All that money!
and kisses too.
Kisses that stick in the mouth
like the vinegar candy she used to pull
with her buttery fingers, pull
until it was white like a dog's bone,
white, thick and impossible to chew.
Father,
an exact likeness,
his face bloated and pink
with black market scotch,
sits out his monthly bender
in his custom-made pajamas
and shouts, his tongue as quick as galloping horses,
shouts into the long distance telephone call.
His mouth is as wide as his kiss.
Mother,
with just the right gesture,
kicks her shoes off,
but is made all wrong,
impossibly frumpy as she sits there
in her alabaster dressing room
sorting her diamonds like a bank teller
to see if they add up.
The maid
as thin as a pencil stick,
holds dinner as usual,
rubs her angry knuckles over the porcelain sink
and grumbles at the gun-shy bird dog.
She knows something is going on.
She pricks a baked potato.
The aunt,
older than all the crooked women
in
The Brothers Grimm,
leans by a gooseneck lamp in her second floor suite,
turns up her earphone to eavesdrop
and continues to knit,
her needles working like kitchen shears
and her breasts blown out like two
pincushions.
The houseboy,
a quick-eyed Filipino,
slinks by like a Japanese spy
from French Provincial room
to French Provincial room,
emptying the ash trays and plumping up
the down upholstery.
His jacket shines, old shiny black,
a wise undertaker.
The milkman walks in his cartoon
every other day in the snoozy dawn,
rattling his bottles like a piggy bank.
And gardeners come, six at a time,
pulling petunias and hairy angel bells
up through the mulch.
This one again, made vaguely and cruelly,
one eye green and one eye blue,
has the only major walk-on so far,
has walked from her afternoon date
past the waiting baked potatoes,
past the flashing back of the Japanese spy,
up the cotton batten stairs,
past the clicking and unclicking of the earphones,
turns here at the hall
by the diamonds that she'll never earn
and the bender that she kissed last night
among thick set stars, the floating bed
and the strange white key…
up like a skein of yarn,
up another flight into the penthouse,
to slam the door on all the years
she'll have to live through…
the sailor who she won't with,
the boys who will walk on
from Andover, Exeter and St. Marks,
the boys who will walk off with pale unlined faces,
to slam the door on all the days she'll stay the same
and never ask why and never think who to ask,
to slam the door and rip off her orange blouse.
Father, father, I wish I were dead.
At thirty-five
she'll dream she's dead
or else she'll dream she's back.
All day long the house sits
larger than Russia
gleaming like a cured hide in the sun.
All day long the machine waits: rooms,
stairs, carpets, furniture, people -
those people who stand at the open windows like objects
waiting to topple.
poem by Anne Sexton
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Today I will read
Tap me not on my shoulder
Today I will read
For there is the urgent need
to explore words being soldered
into blissful compact sentences
as my reading commences
Today I will read
In no chronological order
something immoderately ordinary
Consulting the Oxford dictionary
If and when necessary
Today I will read
Knowledge is power and wisdom
a substitute for boredom
Knowledge is a curse
when words used tend to slip off course
In moments of seeking
the understanding of definitions
I will scamper through publications
of columns in newspapers
Absorb the skeptical illustrations
Learn more about this nation
As I feed my own imagination
Today I will read
a book or a novel
I will read articles
and the contents of scripts
doing my research while I search
for the truth
even if its minute
Today I will read
Separating quality from quantity
as I delve into topics
in my encyclopedia
Tap me not on my shoulder
whether you are younger or older
For Today I will read
Copyright 2005 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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An Old Coat Rack
There is an old coat rack
that stands in the hall
and I’ve often wondered
whose coat once hung there.
It is much older than it looks,
probably a hundred years or more.
Many coats have hung on it
by people large and small.
I did hear that at one time
the coat rack belonged to Buffalo Bill,
so it is possible that Wild Bill Hickok
and Annie Oakley hung their coats
on it at sometime.
One will never know,
but now this little coat rack
with some history
belongs to only me.
11 February 2008
poem by David Harris
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cn U rd ths? Its nt gd nws...
The National Literacy Trust in Britain
did a survey and
- yes, you guessed -
57% read 'only a bit' or not at all
and 25% of the older ones said
they had no intention to
read any more than this
So what do they read when
they read?
Well, mags,
and websites
and txt msgs of course
and jokes,
and TV books and mags
and e-mails
and eighth on the list comes fiction
that's made-up stories, right?
right
then comix ninth
then newspapers well
they're just for people
who don't have TV and
don't mind waiting 12 hours
to read the news put that tenth
what's that? poetry?
sorry would you spell that
oh poetry nah
girls said, they read
to find out how other people live
and feel and
to help them understand
more about themselves
boys said, they read
because they have to and
because it helps them
get a job so
some old farts might say
put up a sign
civilisation's postponed until further notice
but it may all work out
well it'll have to
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Four Letter 'Work' Song
Work me up, work me out, work me flip side down.
Work me here, work me there, work me with renown.
Work me hot, work me greedy,
work me through and through.
Work me to the very marrow,
work me just like I'd work you.
Work me proud, work me late,
work me do not hesitate.
Won't you let me work for you?
Work me til I'm black and blue.
Work me steady, work me needy, work me to a lather.
Work me til my backbone breaks, and the buzzards gather.
Work me in, work me under, work me til I bleed,
Work me over red hot coals, work me like a boss in need.
Work me nasty, work me silly, work me through the clover.
Up down, 'n' in between, into a slipknot sweet Jehovah.
Work me, work me, go ahead.
Work me, work me, til I'm dead.
Buddy Bee Anthony
poem by Buddy Bee Anthony
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When I Get Low I Get High
My fur-coats sold (could be -coats old)
Oh, lord aint it cold
But Im not gonna holler
cause Ive still got a dollar
And when I get low
Oooo I get high
My man walked out
Now you know that aint right
He better watch out
If I meet him tonight
I said when I get low
Oooo I get high
All the hard times in this town has found me
Nobody knows but the troubles are all around me (Im not 100% sure of
These two lines)
Ooooo-
Im all alone
With noone to pet me
My old rocking chair
Aint never gonna get me
cause when I get low
Oooo I get high
Wheeen iii geeet looow
O
Iiiii I get hiiigh
song performed by by Ella Fitzgerald
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Men In White Coats Are Coming To Get Me
I'm cracking at my seems
The men in white coats are coming to get me
Don't let them take me
I'm not medicated
I haven't taken them little yellow pills
In a couple of months
They tell me i'm crazy
Well maybe clinically insane
But who cares
Not me of course
Pain goes shooting through my body.
What are they putting in my veins?
They tell me i'm too stressed out
What do they know?
They're just men
In white coats
I hear them talking
They say it's a breakdown
The girl has gone mad
It's a wonder she didn't off herself last monday
I say all men in white coats
Are my enemy!
They should be destroyed at once!
They're a menace to society!
Sorry people i'm not all
You thought i was
It's ok you must have
Mistaken me for someone else
Tears pour down my face
As they put me in restrains
They say i'm a danger to myself and others
What do they know
They're just men in white coats
Noooooooooo
Don't let them lock me up
People told me once you go in there
You never come out
I hear them coming down the hall
Im never going to see the light of day again
Cause the men in white coats have got me
(12-28-05)
poem by Brandi Young
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Half A Week Before Winter
Half a week before the winter
The chill bites before it comes
That he brings before he runs
He sits behind a desk of mahogany
He whispers dreams into my ear
And though I've giving him his empire
He delivers me my fear
The unicorns are riding high
Powerful in coats of white
I turn to look and burn my eyes
I carry on, I carry all the weight of empty promise
As I stand swallowed by the light
Flickering above the highway
I hold my head and know the streets are mine tonight
The vampires are growing tired
The coats of white all turn to red
My heart burns with desire
I carry on, I carry on
The unicorns are riding high
Powerful in coats of white
We turn to look and burn our eyes
I carry on, I carry
The vampires are growing tired
The coats of white all turn to red
My heart burns with desire
I carry on, I carry on
I carry on
I carry on
We carry on
song performed by by Vanessa Carlton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Half A Week Before Winter
Half a week before the winter
The chill bites before it comes
That he brings before he runs
He sits behind a desk of mahogany
He whispers dreams into my ear
And though I've giving him his empire
He delivers me my fear
The unicorns are riding high
Powerful in coats of white
I turn to look and burn my eyes
I carry on, I carry all the weight of empty promise
As I stand swallowed by the light
Flickering above the highway
I hold my head and know the streets are mine tonight
The vampires are growing tired
The coats of white all turn to red
My heart burns with desire
I carry on, I carry on
The unicorns are riding high
Powerful in coats of white
We turn to look and burn our eyes
I carry on, I carry
The vampires are growing tired
The coats of white all turn to red
My heart burns with desire
I carry on, I carry on
I carry on
I carry on
We carry on
song performed by by Vanessa Carlton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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