Glass Partition
she lives her life
behind a glass partition.
shuffling papers, washing dishes,
sweeping the floor.
sipping on sterile water,
her hands squeaky clean...
even her cat's been declawed!
he comes in from work,
both tired and bruised.
his pants are dirty,
his hands ache and throb.
pours a small drink,
and lights up a smoke...
sits quietly with an angry stare.
two worlds revolving,
two distant shores.
the phone rings, wrong number,
there's a knock on the door.
she turns her head unwilling to feel,
he hurls the bottle at the glass...
stands up, and looks for the broom!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Steel & Glass
(this is a story about your friend and mine
Who is it, who is it, who is it? )
There you stand with your l.a. tan
And your new york walk and your new york talk
Youre mother left you when you were small
But youre gonna wish you wasnt born at all
Steel and glass
Steel and glass
Steel and glass
Steel and glass
Your phone dont ring no one answers your call
How does it feel to be off the wall
Well your mouthpiece squawks as he spreads your lies
But you cant pull strings if your hands are tied
Well your teeth are clean but your mind is capped
You leave your smell like an alley cat
Steel and glass
Steel and glass
Steel and glass
Steel and glass
song performed by by Lennon John
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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~~Setting For One~
Hot water splashing, over food-soiled dishes, like dirty dancing
Water lapping, pooling along the gritty face of corning ware
Forks, knives and spoons drowning - water advancing
This chore intimate, warm – wet, my nightly affair
~~
I could use paper plates – no, that’s a soggy hell
But then no need for Joy Liquid, my nightly cologne
I prefer the upscale squeaky clean of Corelle
One plate, glass, fork, knife, and spoon – each bathes alone
~~
Emptying the dishpan, water swirls, hurling down the drain
Gurgling, almost giggling dirty water, exiting the scene
A little slimy residue on stainless steel still remains
No one will notice – this is my solitary domain…
~~
So it goes with a setting for one...
poem by Peter Shea
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Open
I really don't know what i'm doing here
I really think i should've gone to bed tonight but...
Just one drink
And there're some people to meet you
I think that you'll like them
I have to say we do
And i promise in less than an hour we will honestly go
Now why don't i just get you another
While you just say hello...
Yeah just say hello...
So i'm clutching it tight
Another glass in my hand
And my mouth and the smiles
Moving up as i stand up
Too close and too wide
And the smiles are too bright
And i breathe in too deep
And my head's getting light
But the air is getting heavier and it's closer
And i'm starting to sway
And the hands on all my shoulders don't have names
And they won't go away
So here i go
Here i go again...
Falling into strangers
And it's only just eleven
And i'm staring like a child
Until someone slips me heaven
And i take it on my knees
Just like a thousand times before
And i get transfixed
That fixed
And i'm just looking at the floor
Just looking at the floor
Yeah i look at the floor
And i'm starting to laugh
Like an animal in pain
And i've got blood on my hands
And i've got hands in my brain
And the first short retch
Leaves me gasping for more
And i stagger over screaming
On my way to the floor
And i'm back on my back
With the lights and the lies in my eyes
And the colour and the music's too loud
And my head's all the wrong size
So here i go
Here i go again...
Yeah i laugh and i jump
And i sing and i laugh
And i dance and i laugh
And i laugh and i laugh
And i can't seem to think
Where this is
Who i am
Why i'm keeping this going
Keep pouring it out
Keep pouring it down
And the way the rain comes down hard
That's the way i feel inside...
I can't take it anymore
This it i've become
This is it like i get
When my life's going numb
I just keep moving my mouth
I just keep moving my feet
I say i'm loving you to death
Like i'm losing my breath
And all the smiles that i wear
And all the games that i play
And all the drinks that i mix
And i drink until i'm sick
And all the faces that i make
And all the shapes that i throw
And all the people i meet
And all the words that i know
Makes me sick to the heart
Oh i feel so tired...
And the way the rain comes down hard
That's how i feel inside...
song performed by by Cure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bottom Of The Glass
You think that you have found a way to ease your troubled mind
You fill a glass, then drink it down and fill it one more time
Well, the wine will flow and the pain will go but the spell will never last
Youll never find the answer in the bottom of the glass
Youll never find the answer in the bottom of the glass
Well, the bottom of the glass is just as empty as your life
You know it holds no secret way to help you in your strife
But for a while youre in another world and you wake up in the past
Youll never find the answer in the bottom of the glass
Youll never find the answer in the bottom of the glass
...glass
That bottle there is not your friend when its gone it leaves you cold
The strength it gives you slips away for its something you cant hold
Your hands will shanke and then youll take another from the flask
But youll never find the answer in the bottom of the glass
Youll never find the answer in the bottom of the glass
Youll never find the answer in the bottom of the glass
Youll never find the answer in the bottom of the glass
song performed by by Whiskeytown
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bottom Of The Glass
You think that you have found a way to ease your troubled mind
You fill a glass, then drink it down and fill it one more time
Well, the wine will flow and the pain will go but the spell will never last
Youll never find the answer in the bottom of the glass
Youll never find the answer in the bottom of the glass
Well, the bottom of the glass is just as empty as your life
You know it holds no secret way to help you in your strife
But for a while youre in another world and you wake up in the past
Youll never find the answer in the bottom of the glass
Youll never find the answer in the bottom of the glass
...glass
That bottle there is not your friend when its gone it leaves you cold
The strength it gives you slips away for its something you cant hold
Your hands will shanke and then youll take another from the flask
But youll never find the answer in the bottom of the glass
Youll never find the answer in the bottom of the glass
Youll never find the answer in the bottom of the glass
Youll never find the answer in the bottom of the glass
song performed by by Whiskeytown
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Face Of Ponder
the classic one
naked, butt on a rock
legs extended
body sits and hands
supporting the jaw
like a pillar
to a cellar
got one today
with my glasses on
i stare to the sea
amidst the storm
with my window
open
i am not naked
nay,
i am fully dressed
without any plan of going
to any place
my hands hold the frame
my feet rooted on the floor
my soul like water inside a glass
overflowing
i am emptying
because i am full.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Water On Glass
Written by ricky & marty wilde
Cascading down
Theres a sound vaporising into vision
Its a sound in my head
That I feel and it shuts me in a prison
Say it wont last
Say it will pass
Always the sound in my brain
Can you hear it
Water on glass running down again
Water on glass that sound
Water on glass running round again
Help me, the sound of running waters
Coming down
Dancing away
Like the lights on a moving coloured river
Sounds in my head seem to run
And again I feel a shiver
Say it wont last
Pray it will pass
Always that sound in my brain
Can you hear it (can you hear it)
Water on glass running down again
Water on glass that sound
Water on glass running round again
Help me, the sound of running waters
Coming down
Water on glass running down again
Water on glass that sound
Water on glass running round again
Help me, the sound of running waters
Coming down
song performed by by Kim Wilde
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Glass On The Bar
Three bushmen one morning rode up to an inn,
And one of them called for the drinks with a grin;
They'd only returned from a trip to the North,
And, eager to greet them, the landlord came forth.
He absently poured out a glass of Three Star.
And set down that drink with the rest on the bar.
`There, that is for Harry,' he said, `and it's queer,
'Tis the very same glass that he drank from last year;
His name's on the glass, you can read it like print,
He scratched it himself with an old piece of flint;
I remember his drink -- it was always Three Star' --
And the landlord looked out through the door of the bar.
He looked at the horses, and counted but three:
`You were always together -- where's Harry?' cried he.
Oh, sadly they looked at the glass as they said,
`You may put it away, for our old mate is dead;'
But one, gazing out o'er the ridges afar,
Said, `We owe him a shout -- leave the glass on the bar.'
They thought of the far-away grave on the plain,
They thought of the comrade who came not again,
They lifted their glasses, and sadly they said:
`We drink to the name of the mate who is dead.'
And the sunlight streamed in, and a light like a star
Seemed to glow in the depth of the glass on the bar.
And still in that shanty a tumbler is seen,
It stands by the clock, ever polished and clean;
And often the strangers will read as they pass
The name of a bushman engraved on the glass;
And though on the shelf but a dozen there are,
That glass never stands with the rest on the bar.
poem by Henry Lawson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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An Empty Glass
an empty glass on the table
we stare at each other tonight
and i theorize on its emptiness
is it fed up with water?
was it drunk the other night and
would not take any liquor?
we stare at each other tonight
my hands holding on my chest
i bite my lips with my teeth
something seeps inside my mouth
i hesitate to swallow it
there is still this fear about substance
something that is alienating
my heart is quenched of its fire
there is only the coldness
of tranquility
something to drink from an empty glass
something that caresses
i shall take it.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Old Man
He sits quietly murmuring
Talking only to himself
His eyes sunken and dark
A look of tiredness across his face
His head is slightly bowed
Resting upon his hand
He sits alone in almost darkness
Except for a small table lamp
In the far corner of the room
There is little in the way of light
Old books gather dust
In piles around upon the floor
Those stories he once read
The worlds to which he escaped
Now stacked without order
Like memories becoming forgot
A glass of vintage wine
Held in his thin, bone like fingers
Softens his pallet, soothes his throat
While he sits alone each night
In quiet conversation with himself
Another old man growing grey
Wishing on yesterdays
poem by Matthew Holloway
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A bottle of wolf’s poison
At dusk little Martha walks
pass the back of the old house
that is build of heaped blue Jacob stone
and her older sister who has to watch her
is a distance away in the orchard
where she is catching small gnats
with shouts of joy.
The sun glows orange red
on the horizon and the rays hits
a brown bottle that protrudes
from one of the cracks of the Jacob rocks
and at a distance
it looks to three-year-old Martha
like her mother’s kitchen knife
and quickly she walks closer
on her little feet
and she tries to take it, but it is stuck tight.
With a long stick
she digs the bottle out,
bites it open with her small teeth
and there’s pink liquid
that flows down her throat.
Still she wonders
what this bottle is doing here
and goes round the corner
into the kitchen
where she finds her mother
and gives the bottle to her.
Her mother turns white from fright
as it is wolf’s poison
and deadly strong
and her shout is so loud
that three of Martha’s older brothers
run in from the outside.
“Go and milk one of the cows
and bring some more milk, hurry”
is said to Pieter
and she takes a bucket of milk
from the pantry
and pour some in a glass for Martha to drink
while Pieter runs
as fast as he can to the stable.
“Drink sis drink, ” Martha is begged
and glass after glass is given to her
until she starts to vomit
and still they beg her to drink
while they pour some more glasses of milk
and the pink poison
comes out with the vomit
and Pieter brings some more
fresh hot milk
and pours the jug out
and Martha shakes and cries
and they beg her to drink
and still more is poured into glasses
and she drinks
until she vomits the entire poison out.
[Reference: Wolf’s poison is strychnine.]
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Urn....
He finally pulled in the drive.
Another endless night at work.
Exhausted, he turned off the car,
and stumbled for the back door.
The neighborhood cat rubbed
against his legs as he fumbled
for the key.
As he opened the door, he noticed
that the light over the sink was on.
Shaking his head, he shrugged, and set
down his lunchbox.
He reached in the cupboard for the
bottle and a glass. He poured a small
shot, and hesitated for a moment.
He could hear the night just outside
the window. Something inside of
him let down. He kicked back the shot,
and headed for the bathroom.
A quick shower, and he found his way
to the bedroom. Lying naked on the
bed, he lit a smoke, trying not to think.
He could hear the ticking of the clock in
the hallway. He put out the cigarette, and
dozed.
He awakened to the scent of her perfume.
He heard her voice, whispering, 'be still'.
He felt the presence of her body in the bed.
Her long hair draped across his face. He
felt her on top of him, her heat and her desire.
He raised his face to kiss her....
And then she was gone! Startled, he groped
at the bed, clutching air. He sat up and flipped
on the lamp.
The room was empty. A few crumpled dirty
clothes in the floor. The book he'd been reading
on the nightstand. But no sign of her!
His hands shaking, he lit a smoke, and blinked.
He looked around the room again.
Every nook, every cranny, every crack in the paint.
Finally, his eyes fixed on her dresser.
A picture of her on their wedding day. A half empty
bottle of her favorite perfume. And the urn.... the
urn, with her wedding ring lying on the base.
He flipped off the lamp, and wept.
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pour Me A Glass
Once upon a time I was sitting by,
A bottle of wine and all I knew was i,
I was gonna sip it down in a little while,
I drink it glass for glass but theres no reason why,
The bottle of wine has a taste so fine,
It makes feel good, it makes me blow my mind,
I cannot stop pour me another glass,
I would if I could, but now I need it fast,
I lost my friends, nobody holds my hand,
Like a lonley stranger in a long lost land,
I felt the feelings no one ever has,
Bartender, pour me a glass!
Chorus:
Pour me a glass, pour me a glass of a bottle wine...
Im drinking, Im not drinking, I cant tell you why,
How it started, how it ends but I do deny,
That I wanna ruin my life but now I wanna dive,
Into the silent ocean where there is no cry,
For hope, for me that I cannot see,
But if I faced the facts and go inside of me,
I would see myself, my own reality,
I would see myself, my own insanity,
Scared to move another step ahead,
I would lose the strength so I will fast forget,
What I do to myself, why dont you take a guess,
Bartender, pour me a glass!
Chorus...
song performed by by H-BlockX
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Things I Can Change
a lot of things i can change...
the coffee filter,
the trash bag, the razor
on the sink.
the sheets on the bed,
my pants, the book i'm reading.
the things i watch,
the things i say,
sometimes the things i feel.
the things i eat,
what i drink, what i smoke.
a lot of things i can change...
but not the hands on the clock,
or the knock on the door!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Glass War
Glass war, glass war, glass war, glass war, it's a glass war
Glass war, glass war, it's a glass war
Glass war, glass war
It's a glass war
Cause you can see right through the poisen
It's a glass war
Cause we all know the activeties
It's a glass war
Cause it's made of smoke and mirrors
It's a glass war
It's a glass war
It's a glass war
Cause only poor men are dyin in the
Gas war
Cause we know why it was started
It's an ass war
Cause the president's an asshole
It's an ass war
It's a glass war
It's a gas war
Cause the starters are all victims of the
Glass war
The slogan men were starters of the
Last war
Now the southern men are starters of the
Glass war
It's a Glass War
It's a Glass war
And the shards are gunna start another glass war
And the shards are gunna start another glass war
And the shards are gunna start another glass war
And the shards are gunna start another glass war
And the shards are gunna start another glass war
It's a glass war
It's a glass war
song performed by by NOFX
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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An Almost Broken Glass Bottle
For a while now I've been afraid to say or show how I feel, so instead I go around telling people I'm tough, pretending to be made of steel
All of my feelings I shoved into a bottle made of glass, and as I shoved this glass bottle inside myself I prayed these feelings wouldn't last
The more of my feelings I shoved into it the fuller my glass bottle got, the only problem is once I started to shove all my feeling into it, I didn't know how to stop
Even if you were to ask me if I was okay I'd put on a smile and say I'm fine, even though deep down inside I know I'm lying
So here we are present day and despite my efforts to stop it, my glass bottle and I have started to crack and I know any minute now both of us are going to snap
No matter how much I wish it wasn't so, no matter how much all together I wish my glass bottle and I would stay, I know deep down that my almost broken glass bottle is any second gonna give way
poem by Tiger Lily Love
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Face To Face
Now I've got a chick who will be with me
Anytime, day or night
But I won't put up with no runnin' around
You know it just ain't right
I'm going down...
To the town -
Out to go drink with the clowns
You stay at home...
All alone -
And don't you talk on the phone
You're comin' face to face with the guy that's gonna knock you dead
Face to face with the guy that's gonna bust your head
I'm gonna knock you on the floor
You'll beg me for no more
You're comin' face to face with me, like it or not
When I got to town
The words going 'round
That you've been seen on your back
I open the door and you were on the floor
Spreadin' for the clowns in my pack
Now you were wrong...
If you thought -
I'd take it lyin' down like a dog
I put a match...
In her snatch
She thinks she's such a hot little vamp
You're comin' face to face with the guy that's gonna knock you dead
Face to face with the guy that's gonna bust your head
I'm gonna knock you on the floor
You'll beg me for no more
You comn' face to face with me, like it or not
Tear your face apart
Waste you in the dark
Rip you like a shark
Won't think you're so smart
Face to face (face to face) you disgrace
Face to face (face to face) you disgrace
Face to face (face to face) you disgrace
Face to face
Face to face
Face to face with the guy that's gonna knock you dead
Your're comin' face to face with the guy that's gonna bust your head
I'm gonna knock you on the floor
You'll beg me for no more
You're comin' face to face with me, like it or not
You're cominc12
song performed by by Quiet Riot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Everything's Wrong
(E. Stefani, J. Rosa)
The bed is made, so is the cake
The frogs are swimming down in the lake
The chairs are stacked and the house is locked
The food is eaten and the boat is docked
The flowers are watered and the glass is filled
The chain is linked, the money's billed
The walls are painted and the bell has rang
What is wrong? Everything!
1, 2, 3, 4
Everything everything everything's wrong
Ever quit your bitchin and you want to go on
But if you look at me you laugh and you say
'Why just give me another thing, don't tell me this way'
Everything's wrong
Everything's wrong
Your hat is sewn, the clock is set
The toilet's flushed and the sponge is wet
The lights are on and your shoes are tied
My posters are up and my hair is dyed
The house is built and the records scratched
Your dishes are dirty and your pants are patched
The chrome is shiny and the juice tastes like tang
What is wrong? Everything!
That's all I say, I say no more
So please don't ask for an encore!
1, 2, 3, 4
Everything everything everything's wrong
Ever quit your bitchin and you want to go on
But if you look at me you laugh and you say
'Why just give me another thing, don't tell me this way'
Everything's wrong
Everything's wrong
Everything's wrong
Everything's wrong
song performed by by No Doubt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Old Hands And Old Eyes....
old hands unbutton
the blouse of the day.
old hands make coffee,
open the dusty blinds.
old hands wash a few dishes,
make breakfast for the dogs...
old hands feed the stray cat,
make toast and wait.
old eyes caress the sunlight
as if an old friend.
old eyes see the work,
yet stop, to touch the morning.
old eyes kiss the trees,
the squirrels, and distant mountains.
old eyes ache with longing,
and amazement.
old hands and old eyes
begin the journey anew.
listening intently for the footfall,
for another candle, a hoe.
for the scent of nearness,
perhaps only remembered.
old hands and old eyes,
take the plow, the hammer,
and the nails....
old hands and old eyes,
waiting for love!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You Are The Sea
The cruelest thing to someone like me
You wash towards me, covering everything
Then pull away and disappear again
You infiltrate every cell of me
I gladly wrap my hope and joy in you
Then you gradually disappear again
I've been sitting in this hotel room for so long
I keep thinking I hear the phone ringing
But it's not
I keep thinking I see the sun rising
But it's not
It's just the sea
Playing its tricks on me
I say too much on the subject
I dwell too long on the subject
Can't shake your face
Can't shake your name from my head
Said too much again
I've said too much again
The cruelest thing to someone like me
Is what I do to myself, waiting for high-tide
Ignoring everything I have, torturing myself
The craziness in me is just spilling over
Diving into shallow water from the rocks
Forgetting everything I have, torturing myself
I've been sitting at this bar for far too long
I keep thinking I hear your voice behind me
But I'm wrong
I keep thinking I see you walking by
But I'm wrong
It's just the sea
Playing its tricks on me
It's been nearly a year of concentrated longing now
Nearly a year of pining after the sea and the girl
Nearly a year and no single step closer
Nearly a year and still I don't know her
I keep thinking this is what I really need
But it's not
I keep thinking this is all so clear
But I'm wrong
It's just the sea
Playing its tricks on me
You are the sea
Playing your tricks on me
You are the sea
And I should let go
I should let go
Why can't I let go?
Is pain all I can know?
I'm washing my hands
I'm washing my hands of you
I'm washing them
In the sea
I'm washing my hands of you
Washing them
In the sea
And letting go of you
I'm letting go of the sea...
(2009)
poem by B. Alexander
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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