Trouvée
Oh, why should a hen
have been run over
on West 4th Street
in the middle of summer?
She was a white hen
--red-and-white now, of course.
How did she get there?
Where was she going?
Her wing feathers spread
flat, flat in the tar,
all dirtied, and thin
as tissue paper.
A pigeon, yes,
or an English sparrow,
might meet such a fate,
but not that poor fowl.
Just now I went back
to look again.
I hadn't dreamed it:
there is a hen
turned into a quaint
old country saying
scribbled in chalk
(except for the beak).
poem by Elizabeth Bishop
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
White sparrow
white sparrow you see me standing
you could kill me without landing
your wing is just as long as a man
you are as cold as a snowy day
you have come here from heaven
you must of as you fight my devil's
your feathers turn slowly black with my sin
and yet you stay beautiful as always
my sin is like a ciggerate it will turn you black inside
but you cannot die as you are one in your own
you came from heaven so your holy arent you
god sent you for me so you must do what you must do
my heart was never red nor white but black
i was born with my sin and also that of my kin
but white sparrow you have taken that from me
and now you are dying you turned black whilst i change to white
oh my lord what a sight it must be to see
a boy like me clean of all carrying a bird of sin
i am carrying you white sparrow your heart is no longer cold
and your body no longer white nor wings large
but white sparrow you will not die, no you will not
for you white sparrow you came from heaven for me
when i picked my child's name people laughed you did not
you looked at my child in his cot and nodded now you cant
for white sparrow you dont belong with me not anymore
your must leave for heaven and recover to help others
so farewell white sparrow il missy you my saviour
now go to that sin filled woman and help her
for white sparrow i will look for you as you continue
for white sparrow i will see you in heaven....goodbye
poem by Daniel Laurence
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You Dream Flat Tires
It came to pass
Like lightening striking from above
Electric flash
Just like lightening striking from above
Struck by precious love
Precious, precious love
So hopeless and so inspired
Why do you dream flat tires
When you dream flat tires?
You dream flat tires
With a jack and a spare youre there
Trying to get to where love is
Coming in on a wing and a prayer
Trying to get to where love is
cause love is precious love
You said it was precious
When first you felt my fire
Before you dreamed flat tires
You dreamed flat tires
You dream flat tires
Woman she bounce back easy
But a man could break both his legs
Are you telling me that to tease me?
Or just to hear me beg
Please dont go!
Cause I know that you love me
But, when are you going to let love be
Just a vague flirtation
Or extra special company?
cause love is precious love
Everybody knows its precious
When first they feel that fire
Before they dream flat tires
They dream flat tires
They dream flat tires
Woman she bounce back easy
But a man could break both his legs
Do you tell me that to tease me
Or just to hear me beg
Please dont be cold
I know that you love me
But, what are you going to let love do?
(flat tires, love, love is precious, flat tires,
Love, love is precious, flat tires, love,
Love is precious)
song performed by by Joni Mitchell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hat Too Flat
We come in on the morning scan
All the way from far arcturus
Bringing with us peace and good will
From the margins of space and time
Our women are slung down low to the ground
Theyre very good youve probably had one
Our men are brave, studly and wise,
A pleasure to behold
Right away we walk the walk
More or less we talk the talk
But every time we make our play
Their eyes get wide they run away
cause the hat stays too flat
My hat is way too flat
My english she is much better now
But my hat remains too flat
The man smells a rat
And thats the end of that
My english it is more better now
But my hat is still too flat
Fair arcturus fashion forecast:
Skirts will be shorter
Legs stay long
Virtual raincoats are coming back
Hats as always continued flat
Back at home the machines work hard
We folk like to take it easy
Honing our awareness of
The finer things of life
Here when I go down to my job
I work hard for what seems like a long time
I look at my watch: fifteen minutes
It felt like half a day!
Soon enough we break for lunch
Me and the boys now Im one of the bunch
But no one wants to sit with me
So tell me what can the matter be?
The hat stays too flat
My hat is way too flat
My english she is much better now
But the hat is just too flat
A little thing like that
They dont get past the hat
My english it is more better now
But my hat remains too flat
song performed by by Steely Dan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Man, I Do Not Really Know If I Have Written Something
i like the sound of the poo
not winnie's
i waited for minutes
and scribbled something
on that white tissue paper
and then i made the last moan
and then i sighed
and wiped my bottom
and then i throw away the
tissue and then there
was this sound of
relief, this flushing sound
and then everything
is gone after a short
whirl & whirl and whirl
and swosh
man, i did not know
that i have written
(something so well?)
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mother Sparrow Leaves Not Carrying Anything
the mother sparrow does not
know about a funeral
how can it hold a white flower
entertain meaning
using its black, short beak?
today, her young sparrow
lies dead
shattered wings, severed feathers
the worker-ants are sensing the scent of blood
the delicacy of sparrow meat
and now carry them all toward their
queen
underground
there is no memory for mother sparrows
there is no son
the fledgling is gone, gone
then she flies far away
to another season
not carrying anything, not a seed even inside her gut
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Dot On White Sheet!
Green leaves of spring are not there;
Colourful flowers of all seasons are gone;
Only white snow covers all in winter!
Winter snow thick or thin is white sheet
That covers all colourful things long!
Scrubbing snow on the road is a daily exercise
To clear route for all vehicles to go smooth;
All covered with fur cloth move in the street;
This white snow is like a white sheet of paper;
All the movements on it are the dots of scribble!
Writers are hungry of white paper to write on;
Poets are fond of writing poems on white sheet;
And the matters on white paper are men on snow;
But nobody likes winter as all are for colourful life!
poem by Ramesh T A
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White Heat
Down between the sunbeams the moneylenders chat
Hiding in the shade outside a council flat
Kids in the lift looking for things to throw
And practising their aim on the heads below
They make their apologies with the quickness of their feet
Then lost in the heat haze that shimmers across the street
Underfoot the pavement is melting
Crumbling for the luckiest girl
The whole world is melting.
(white white heat)
Im still not in until a week next wednesday
Im holidaying on the roof til the big bad wolf goes away
In the street the pavement is melting
Crumbling for the luckiest girl
The whole world is melting.
White heat turns the street upside down.
Down between the sunbeams the debt collectors chat, chat, chat, chat,
Hiding in the shade outside a council flat
By the hairs on my chinny chin chin
I shall not let you in.
In the street the pavement is melting
Crumbling for the luckiest girl
The whole world is melting.
(for the luckiest girl in all the world)
(white, white heat)
song performed by by Madness
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Face of God
Someone asked; God what if we were to meet face to face?
What face would I see?
Would your eyes be slanted and blue?
Would you have a jewel in the middle of your forehead?
Would your noise be pointed or would it be flat?
Would your lips be thin or would they be full?
God what face would I see?
God answers with these words.
If we were to meet face to face here is what you would see.
Pick up a mirror and the face staring back at you is not only you it is also me.
Flat
Back at the flat
I talk to my non-existent cat
Silence covers me like a Panama hat.
And the wonderful day we had at the zoo
Sunshine and ice cream; you snapped a Gnu.
Now echoes in the silence
That lonliness brings
Back at the flat where my life still clings,
Back at the flat i slowly fade in pain
Who will i hold so close again?
As cutting memories drive me insane
Trapped, i look out and it begins to rain.
Back at the flat i try to plan ahead
Feel one true kiss before i'm dead
Hold a hand that squeezes back tight
Drink wine and sing in someones moonlight.
Watching her in the kitchen, eyes glowing brand new
Now everything is a memory
Painted deep blue.
Back at the flat i dream a hug will come
A spark from her touch to heat this body numb.
Where is one night of stars to romance
She'll blow me a kiss as the world still rants.
My unknown love is waiting for me
All i need is her smile
And i'm flying free
Back at the flat my daydream ends
I cast my fate to the wind
And pray it ascends.
poem by Kevin East
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Nobody Loves Me
Nobody loves me any more,
Nobody needs me any more,
As I look on down below,
I see the couples come and go.
They make me think back to the time,
When all my life was well and fine,
And I gaze on down the street,
See the young hearts come and meet.
From my window of my flat,
You know I dream of my loving past.
But now there's nothing I can do,
I just sit and wait for you,
My next lover...
But being lonely ain't that bad,
I can meet friends, have a laugh,
I can do what I wanna do,
With no commitments to be abused.
Then the penny starts to drop,
You realise that you're on top,
When your hair is feeling free,
Lonely times won't bother me.
Well from my window of my flat,
You know I dream of my loving past.
But now there's nothing I can do,
I just sit and wait for you,
My next lover...
From my window of my flat,
You know I dream of my loving past.
But now there's nothing I can do,
I just sit and wait for you,
My next lover...
My next lover...
My next lover...
My next lover...
Oh my next lover...
song performed by by Zutons
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Snowball Is Back With His Hens
Poor snowball the white silky bantam cock not feeling well of late
His son big red has thrashed him he is in a sorry state
Dried blood on his neck feathers from the comb he has bled
He has really copped a hiding from his oldest offspring red.
Red and his half sibling cock white silky bantams by Steve and Annie to be sold
Around the yard with their parent hens they won't grow tired and old
In the fowl pen they are obliged to wait tomorrow at the break of day
Steve will take them in a box to the fowl dealing woman in the house across the way.
Snowball is back with his hens his aggressive son now behind lettuce wire
Will never have another chance of attacking his snow white sire
Snowball is Steve and Annie's favourite rooster and they decide who stay
And violence as big red will find out it does not always pay.
Snowball the silky bantam cock he crows in the backyard
With dried blood on his neck feathers and his comb from warring scarred
And tomorrow big red will be gone and snowball again will reign supreme
And he will recover from his wounds and regain his self esteem.
poem by Francis Duggan
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White Knuckles
Smack dab flat on my back
The solid ground began to crack
I pulled her down and down and down
I lost my breath
I thought I'd drown
Fistfuls of you
Fistfuls of you
You pulled me through with white knuckles
Fistfuls of you
Fistfuls of you
You pulled me through with white knuckles
Her leg, my hand, a smoldering brand
Sticking to her wet body like sand
Her place, distaste, we fell from grace
Red smears across her face
Fistfuls of you
Fistfuls of you
You pulled me through with white knuckles
Fistfuls of you
Fistfuls of you
You pulled me through with white knuckles
White knuckles!
White knuckles!
White knuckles!
White knuckles
song performed by by Marilyn Manson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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As The Sparrow
To give life you must take life,
and as our grief falls flat and hollow
upon the billion-blooded sea
I pass upon serious inward-breaking shoals rimmed
with white-legged, white-bellied rotting creatures
lengthily dead and rioting against surrounding scenes.
Dear child, I only did to you what the sparrow
did to you; I am old when it is fashionable to be
young; I cry when it is fashionable to laugh.
I hated you when it would have taken less courage
to love.
poem by Charles Bukowski
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The White Stuff
The white stuff, the white stuff
The first one was a sweet one
Second one was a blast
Soon I finished off the bag, ate em up real fast
You can see em in my teeth
Tell it when I talk
Had so many my pancreas just went into shock
I love the white stuff, baby
In the middle of an oreo
I love the white stuff, baby
Its the most delicious thing I know
Ive had a zillion or two
In my life, theyre so right
My teeth are all rotted clear through
But who cares? what else am I supposed to do?
Oh oh oh-oh-oh, oh oreo
Oh oh oh-oh-oh, the white stuff
Oh oh oh-oh-oh, oh oreo
Whats in the middle? the white stuff
The first time that I tried it
Got a big sugar buzz
Nothing gets me high as that sandwhich cookie does
But I love the filling most
I rub it on my roast
Mix it in with my coffee and spread it on my toast
I love the white stuff, baby
In the middle of an oreo
I love the white stuff, baby
Take some with me everywhere I go
Might get a pimple or two
Well, so what? its all right
Now twinkies and ding dongs wont do
All I need... you know what it is
Oh oh oh-oh-oh, oh oreo
Oh oh oh-oh-oh, the white stuff
Oh oh oh-oh-oh, oh oreo
Oh oh oh-oh-oh, the white stuff
Oh oh oh-oh-oh, oh oreo
Whats in the middle? the white stuff
song performed by by Weird Al Yankovic
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The philosophers of the Middle Ages demonstrated both that the Earth did not exist and also that it was flat. Today they are still arguing about whether the world exists, but they no longer dispute about whether it is flat.
quote by Vilhjalmur Stefansson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Back When - Tim McGraw
Don't you remember
The fizz in a pepper,
Peanuts in a bottle
At ten, two, and four.
A fried bologna (boloney) sandwich,
With mayo and tomato,
Sittin' 'round the table
Don't happen much anymore.
We got too complicated,
It's all way overrated,
I like the old-and-out-dated,
Way of life
(chorus)
Back when a hoe was a hoe,
A coke was a coke,
And crack's what you were doin'
When you were crackin' jokes.
Back when a screw was a screw.,
The wind was all that blew,
And when you said, 'I'm down with that, '
Well, it meant you had the flu.
I miss back when,
I miss back when,
I miss back when.
I love my records,
Black, shiny vinyl,
Clicks, and pops, and white noise,
Man, they sounded fine.
I had my favorite stations,
The ones that played them all,
Country, soul, and rock-and-roll,
What happened to those times?
I'm readin' Street Slang for Dummies,
'Cause they put pop in my country,
I want more for my money,
The way it was back then.
(chorus)
Give me a flat top for strummin',
I want the whole world hummin',
Just keep it comin',
The way it was back then.
(chorus)
I miss back when,
I miss back when.
poem by Rebecca Ryan
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It's that I don't like white paper backgrounds. A woman does not live in front of white paper. She lives on the street, in a motor car, in a hotel room.
quote by Helmut Newton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It Had Flat Tires
A mindbinding that begins,
With an awakening from a dream that ends...
Sends one that has become conscious,
Wondering...
If a message 'was' sent...
Why does it seem to make little sense?
And how important is it,
To seek from those who do not comprehend...
Why anyone would dream,
Something the dreamer does not understand?
'What did you eat before you went to sleep?
Maybe you shouldn't eat it again.
Especially if you ran from it.
And it chased you screaming.
With, as you say...
A pigeon behind the wheel,
Of a tricycle that had four flat tires?
I wish I could help you.
But I don't have dreams like that.
It had flat tires, huh?
Well...'
And 'why' are you looking at my stomach?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Going Back West
I was born and raised in the ghetto
Talk with me and youll know
I wasnt satisfied, with living on the side
I started looking around, for a possibility
Listen to my story, of what became of me
I met a businessman
Who said he had some friends back east
So why dont you come along
Well we can help you at least
Well make you into a big star
By playing your guitar
But the joke was on me
They left me flat to see
Going back west
Yes I know Ill make out alright
Going back west
Where my musics playing all night
Going back west (going back west)
I think Ill do alright
Going back west
Yes I know Ill make out alright
Going back west
Where my musics playing all night
Going back west (going back west)
I think Ill do alright
Struggling for recognition, identity and respect
I got a lot of promises
They told me not to fret
So we will stand by you
If the going gets rough
But when I started thinking
They didnt even bluff
bout a year has come and gone
And left me standing here
Thinking how it could have been
For still I aint nowhere
They surely took me for a ride
Trampled on my pride
But I hold my head up high
Got no more tears to cry
Going back west
Yes I know Ill make out alright
Going back west
Where my musics playing all night
Going back west (going back west)
I think Ill do alright
Going back west
Yes I know Ill make out alright
Going back west
Where my musics playing all night
Going back west (going back west)
I think Ill do alright
Going back west
Yes I know Ill make out alright
Going back west
Where my musics playing all night
song performed by by Boney M.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ups 'n Downs
Like white ink on black paper
sometimes life seems turned around.
Like ice in summer, desiccated leaves in spring,
like fish swimming in the Gobi Desert,
like a bell that will not ring,
it’s disconcerting, I've found.
Like black ink on white paper
sometimes things seem straight ahead.
Like iced tea in summer, cherry buds in spring,
like fish catapulting in the thrusting whitewater,
like a bell that rings and rings-
then life’s a dancing thoroughbred.
poem by Sonny Rainshine
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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