My Self!
when i finally...
slept with my self,
my self called me a whore!
and i spent weeks
on the porch,
fumbling in my pockets...
for my identity.
i stopped a passing stranger
and asked him my name...
he pointed to the ground,
and muttered, 'other'!
i gave a wino my last dollar,
pulled down my hat.
and walked off alone...
but i could hear the footsteps,
could feel the heavy breathing...
and turning to demand...
saw my self!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Stranger In Paradise
(john capek/amy sky)
The twilight falls on shadowed walls
The day dissolves into the point of no return
We cross the line with silent signs
The night seduces us of the possibilities
Can it be, that finally
Take me to the fantasies
Im a stranger in paradise
And its a long way to the ground
Im a stranger in paradise
Dont let, dont let me down
The moon escapes, and I awake
I lie and listen to the music of your breathing
I catch my breath, remembering
I have to touch you just to see if Im still dreaming
What remains when night has gone
Cover me in shades of dawn
Im a stranger in paradise
And its a long way to the ground
Im a stranger in paradise
Dont let, dont let me down
Can it be, finally
Take me to the fantasies
Im a stranger in paradise
And its a long way to the ground
Im a stranger in paradise
Dont let, dont let me down
Im a stranger in paradise
Dont let, dont let me down
Stranger, Im a stranger
Stranger, stranger, stranger
song performed by by Diana Ross
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
I Wish You Were Here
Footsteps, I can hear footsteps in the hall
I hear footsteps, seems like Ive been through this before
Some time has come now, some time has passed
But things still look the same
Is heaven all above, and paradise below
And the questions still remain
Ooh, can we see you?
Ooh, are we near you?
How could you disappear out of here?
I wish for something, I wish you were here
Footsteps, I can hear footsteps in the hall
I hear footsteps, it seems like Ive been through this before
Well we loved you then, I guess we always will
We love you still from here
Birds of a feather always stay together
And never separate, no fear
Ooh, can we see you?
Ooh, are we near you?
How could you disappear out of here?
I wish for something, I wish for something
I wish you were here, I wish you were here
I wish you well
Footsteps, I can hear footsteps in the hall
I hear footsteps, seems like Ive been through this before
If all the world was turning blue and gold
Like through your eyes so clear
The time has come to celebrate our past
And crystalize this sphere
Ooh, can we see you?
Ooh, are we near you?
How can you disappear out of here?
I wish for something
Ooh, can we see you?
Ooh, are we near you?
How can you disappear out of here?
I wish for something
I wish you were here, I wish you were here
I wish you well
There will come a day
Oh some day our day will come
Our day will come, our day will come
Words and music : simple minds (c) emi music (publ) ltd reproduced without permission
song performed by by Simple Minds
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Footsteps
Footsteps in the dark
Only love will break your heart
Footsteps, footsteps
Whenever trouble comes around
Or lonely nights lead underground
And far in the dark
Abandoned cars suddenly start up
An anxious sound
As long as I hear your footsteps
In the dark thats all I need
Footsteps in the dark
Only love will break your heart
Footsteps, footsteps
When loneliness induces fear
Like waves against a
Ramshackle pier
When thunder and rain
Scar the windowpane once again
I want you near
As long as I hear your footsteps
In the dark thats all I need
Im longing to see you
I want you, I need you
Like a child who feels afraid
Of the dark at night
Hoping to hear a gentle touch
Turning on a welcome light
As long as I hear your footsteps
In the dark thats all I need
As long as I hear your footsteps
In the dark thats all I need
Footsteps in the dark
Only love will break your heart
Footsteps, footsteps
Footsteps in the dark
Only love will break your heart
Footsteps, footsteps
song performed by by Pet Shop Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Talkin' New York
Rambling out of the wild west
Leaving the towns I love best
Thought I'd seen some ups and down
'Till I come into New York town
People going down to the ground
Building going up to the sky.
Wintertime in New York town
The wind blowing snow around
Walk around with nowhere to go
Somebody could freeze right to the bone
I froze right to the bone
New York Times said it was the coldest winter in seventeen years
I didn't feel so cold then.
I swung on to my old guitar
Grabbed hold of a subway car
And after a rocking, reeling, rolling ride
I landed up on the downtown side:
Greenwich Village.
I walked down there and ended up
In one of them coffee-houses on the block
Got on the stage to sing and play
Man there said, Come back some other day
You sound like a hillbilly
We want folksingers here.
Well, I got a harmonica job begun to play
Blowing my lungs out for a dollar a day
I blowed inside out and upside down
The man there said he loved my sound
He was raving about he loved my sound
Dollar a day's worth.
After weeks and weeks of hanging around
I finally got a job in New York town
In a bigger place, bigger money too
Even joined the Union and paid my dues.
Now, a very great man once said
That some people rob you with a fountain pen
It don't take too long to find out
Just what he was talking about
A lot of people don't have much food on their table
But they got a lot of forks and knives
And they gotta cut something.
So one morning when the sun was warm
I rambled out of New York town
Pulled my cap down over my eyes
And heated out for the western skies
So long New York
Howdy, East Orange.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Foot steps
I walked the footsteps of life.
Through hot cobbles and fire.
I walked the footsteps of pain and hurt.
I was forced to walk in to the woods.
I was forced to do it.
Forced to have sex against my will.
I was foced to feel hurt and pain.
I walked all kinds of footsteps
Footsteps of life.
God how some did hurt.
I walked the footsteps many times.
The footsteps of rape.
Each time by a different man.
To hurt more each time
poem by Amy Louise Kerswell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Talking New York
Ramblin outa the wild west,
Leavin the towns I love the best.
Thought Id seen some ups and down,
Til I come into new york town.
People goin down to the ground,
Buildings goin up to the sky.
Wintertime in new york town,
The wind blowin snow around.
Walk around with nowhere to go,
Somebody could freeze right to the bone.
I froze right to the bone.
New york times said it was the coldest winter in seventeen years;
I didnt feel so cold then.
I swung on to my old guitar,
Grabbed hold of a subway car,
And after a rocking, reeling, rolling ride,
I landed up on the downtown side;
Greenwich village.
I walked down there and ended up
In one of them coffee-houses on the block.
Got on the stage to sing and play,
Man there said, come back some other day,
You sound like a hillbilly;
We want folk singer here.
Well, I got a harmonica job, begun to play,
Blowin my lungs out for a dollar a day.
I blowed inside out and upside down.
The man there said he loved m sound,
He was ravin about how he loved m sound;
Dollar a days worth.
And after weeks and weeks of hangin around,
I finally got a job in new york town,
In a bigger place, bigger money too,
Even joined the union and paid m dues.
Now, a very great man once said
That some people rob you with a fountain pen.
It didnt take too long to find out
Just what he was talkin about.
A lot of people dont have much food on their table,
But they got a lot of forks n knives,
And they gotta cut somethin.
So one mornin when the sun was warm,
I rambled out of new york town.
Pulled my cap down over my eyes
And headed out for the western skies.
So long, new york.
Howdy, east orange.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Behind The Clouds...
the old man who
lived by himself down
by the highway...
died this morning in his sleep.
passing cars never even slowed down,
and the mailman left another faceless bill.
the meter reader stopped to read his meter,
and the hands on the clock
continued their crawl....
yet the stray dog walked up
on the porch and howled,
and the trail of ants stopped to weep.
the wind seemed to stop,
for just a moment...
and the sun went behind the clouds.
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Six O'Clock News
he sat in the parking lot,
a Vietnam vet, breathing hard,
fog rising in the cold....
across the way two kids
were getting ready to raise
the flag... just another day....
they'd been married for 30 years.
he met her when he was thirty,
and she was just sixteen....
now he was over sixty,
and his health was bad....
and she'd been fooling around
with a man her own age.
he just couldnt see, just couldnt
believe... nowhere to go.
he watched her walk from the
building to her car, fumbling with keys.
walking up behind her, he called
her name... she turned, a look of horror,
just a deer caught in the headlights.
he pulled the pistol and shot her....
before her body even fell
he put the barrel in his mouth,
and fired again....
the two kids stopped, flag
at about half mast.... sunlight
barely piercing the fog....
America dead, two bodies strewn
in a parking lot... another feed
for the six o'clock news!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sounds Of The Earth (Part Two)
i hear the sounds of young lovers,
moaning, groaning, and whimpering.
the rush of wind,
that startles the curtains.
the slap of wet bodies,
the sigh of the candle.
low words cooed,
without need for definition.
i feel the tears of the sinner,
hear them hit the floor.
the prayers, and confessions,
the guilt, and the need.
the heavy breathing of redemption,
and the silence that heals...
yes, even the silence
has its own sound!
i hear the bones of the nameless,
rising from their hidden graves.
to dance in the holiness,
of identity regained!
i hear the crackle of the fire,
as life becomes vapor.
i hear the stranger at the door,
and know well his voice!
i feel these sounds,
swelling up within me.
erupting from my conscience,
till song becomes song.
and i hear the heartbeats,
of newborn babies and small children.
of the old woman dying
in a forgotten room.
the heartbeats of wolves,
of birds, and silent cattle.
the heartbeats of things
lost to memory and time....
and each sound alike,
alike in their difference...
sounding like mine,
like yours...
and like god's!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Stranger In My Own Home Town
(words & music by percy mayfield)
Im like a stranger
Like a stranger in my own home town
Im like a stranger
Like a stranger in my own home town
My so called friends stopped being friendly
Oh but you cant keep a good man down
Oh no, cant get him down
I came home with good intentions
About 5 or 6 years ago
I came home with good intentions
About 5 or 6 years ago
But my home town wont accept me
Just dont feel welcome here no more
My home town wont accept me
Just dont feel welcome here no more
I came home with good intentions
About 5 or 6 years ago, yes I did
I came home with good intentions
About 5 or 6 years ago
But my home town wont accept me
Just dont feel welcome here no more
Im like a stranger, like a stranger in my own home town
Yeah, Im like a stranger, like a stranger in my own home town
My so called friends stopped being friendly
Oh but you cant keep a good man down
I came home with good intentions
About 5 or 6 years ago, yes I did
I came home with good intentions
About 5 or 6 years ago
My so called friends stopped being friendly
Oh but you cant keep a good man down
Im like a stranger, like a stranger in my own home town
Im like a stranger, like a stranger in my own home town
My so called friends stopped being friendly
Oh but you cant keep a good man down
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The man called My Father
My sister pointed a man on the road calling him our father
She had a faint smile hoping he would turn and smile back
I saw him walking away in a busy market wearing a suit
Perhaps a man on business while we stood like a failed investments
I asked my mother about the man called My father
She weakly smiled and kissed my chubby childhood cheeks
Years went by and that man often crossed my way, often smiled too
And i smiled back to the stranger who everyone called my father
We met once a while at his place greeting his new family
A mandatory yearly visits like paying homage to gods for life living
The man called my father looking at me with his guilty eyes
And i smiling at the stranger to the man who called himself my father
poem by Dechen Doma Sherpa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Headstrong
He walked down the road
and never turned around.
He just kept on going
and stood his ground.
The ground shook
underneath his feet.
But still he proceeded.
He would not accept defeat.
For if he stopped
and people asked him why?
He'd have to admit failure
and eat humble pie.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Identity Crisis!
When born, I was called “baby”
And later they called me “Abby”
Within 5 years they called me “student”
And for 7 years, like that I spent
Then they called me “teen”
I loved it and felt like a queen
Then I was called “woman”
And those times, were the best
Then some one tied a knot and called me “wife”
I hated those times, it was horrible and gross
In years I became “mother”
It was beautiful but tough
Then being called “grandma”
My times got better and better
Then at last I was called “old”
And my body was frail and cold
All this time I wondered,
Where my identity has gone
Some where in the middle, I had lost it
Through the ages, I had a crisis
An identity crisis to say!
DECEMBER 23,2008
poem by Sania Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The DirtyWhore
The Dirty Whore
Whore whore whore the dirty little whore
With her heavy hips and juicy lips
She is bound by her pimp who gives her, her daily dose
Crack Coke heroine or lsd
In them she her emotions pores
Whore whore whore the dirty little whore
As she tickles your dick and gives you new kicks
Biting down your balls to take it all
She massages your chest as she bears her breasts
Coming close yet staying a far
As her panties she removes to make new moves
Saddeling up your prick up and down she rolls
Whore whore whore the dirty little whore
Her job is tough her beat is rough
Pimps and pushers her companions at night
She dines with gangsters and cops alike
Getting paid well and getting beaten at times
Taking pills to giving new thrills
Whore whore whore the dirty little whore
Either at street corners, in bazaar's or mandi's
My friends you are bound to meet this raandi
500 for a blow 5000 for a shag
She even carries rubbers in her bag
To please you is her job
But you of your morality she will rob
Beware of the whore the dirty little whore
poem by Anuj Tikku
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
This And That
I ASKED FOR BREAD!
A STONE THEY GAVE ME!
I ASKED FOR WATER!
A CUP OF VENOM THEY GAVE ME!
I ASKED FOR MEAT!
LO! VEGETABLES THEY GAVE ME!
I ASKED FOR CLOTHES!
AND THEY GAVE ME RAGS!
I ASKED FOR WEALTH!
AND THEY GAVE ME POVERTY!
I ASKED FOR PEACE!
AND THEY GAVE ME TROUBLES!
I ASKED FOR LOVE!
AND THEY GAVE ME WICKEDNESS!
TEMPT NOT THIS LORD!
ASK ME NOT FOR HELP!
FOR I SHALL GIVE TO YOU AS YOU GAVE TO ME!
TEMPT ME NOT I SAY!
ASK ME NOT FOR THIS!
FOR I SHALL GIVE YOU THAT!
poem by Overlord Don Manuel Ihcakeyno
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Double Tragedy!
when they notified him
that his only son had been
killed in Afghanistan...
he went out in the yard
and draped an American flag
across the windshield of
his '57 chevy...
and drenching it in gasoline,
he set it ablaze...
and he sat on the porch
with his Vietnam Vet hat
pulled down low over his eyes...
sipping good Kentucky bourbon...
when it had burnt down
and he could hear the sirens,
he took the 38 caliber smith and wesson
from his lap, and putting it to his temple,
pulled the trigger!
in the paper they called it
a double tragedy!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
It'll Be Allright
i met God today....
the little boy with tears
in his eyes, lost
in the grocery store....
i took his hand and
walked him to the front...
he looked up, and said:
'it'll be allright! '
i met God today...
the old man across the
street trying to load
his old truck....
i stopped mowing and
went over to help him...
boxes and bags, everything
he owned...
'got anywhere to go? '
'it'll be allright! '
i met God today....
young crack whore
stopped by work....
'got anything i can do
to make a few bucks...
i mean, anything....'
i reached into my pocket
and pulled out a ten....
'you get to where you
want some help...
need someone to talk to...'
'it'll be allright! '
i met God today...
standing by an open grave....
He looked at me as if to
ask if i was ready.....
i looked over at the headstone...
and read... 'it'll be allright! '
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Bb King Medley
By the hourglass
* sweet little angel
I got a sweet little angel, I love the way she spreads her wings,
I got a sweet little angel, I love the way she spreads her wings, now,
She spread her wings around, I get joy in everything.
Asked my baby for a nickel, she gave me a twenty dollar bill, now,
I asked my baby for a nickel, she gave me a twenty dollar bill, now,
Asked my baby for a drink of liquor, she gave me a whiskey still, ah.
* its my own fault
Its my own fault baby, treat me the way you wanna do now,
Its my own fault baby, treat me the way you wanna do now,
Cause when you were lovin me little woman,
Ahhh, guess what? I didnt love you, no.
Cmon now.
* how blue can you get?
I been down-hearted baby, ever since the day that we met,
I been down-hearted baby, ever since the day that we met,
Our love is nothin but the blues, lord, how blue can you get?
Alright,
I bought you a new ford, you said I want a cadillac.
Bought you a ten dollar dinner, you said thanks for the snack.
Let you live in my penthouse, lord, you called it a shack.
Gave you seven children and now you wanna give em back.
Oh, I been down-hearted baby, ever since the day that we met darlin now,
Now our love is nothin but the blues.
Oh, how blue can you get?
song performed by by Allman Brothers Band
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
You saved me....
I walked down a endless black tunnel.
I gave up hope and I gave up looking.
I wasn't truly happy.
I wore fake smiles.
There wasn't much reason for me to go to school.
I would walk for hours.
Hours turned to days.
Days turned to weeks.
Weeks turned to months of walking in my lonely despair.
After a few months I began to see light.
When i surfaced you were the first one to catch my attention.
You pulled me out.
You made me happy.
You gave me reason to go to school.
You brought me out of my lonely despair.
And for that I thank you, and I will love you till the end of time maybe even longer.
poem by Kendra Swan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!