Still Life with Tulips
Because you did, I too arrange flowers,
Watching the pistils just like insolent tongues
And the hard, red flesh of the petals
Widening beneath my eyes. They move like the hands
Of clocks, seeming not to move except
When I turn my gaze; then savagely
In the white room, they billow and spread
Until their redness engulfs me utterly.
Mother, you are far away and claim
In mournful letters that I do not need you;
Yet here in this sunny room, your tulips
Devour me, sucking hungrily
My watery nourishment, filling my house
Like a presence, like an enemy.
Geared to your intervals as the small hand
Of a clock repeats the larger, I,
Your too-faithful daughter, still drag behind you,
Turning in the same slow circles.
Across the years and distances, my hands
Among these fierce, red blossoms repeat
Your gestures. I hope my daughter never writes:
'Because you did, I too arrange flowers.'
poem by Erica Jong
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Flowers - Giving It All Away B-side
Renegades and shifting shades
And the lights in your face
And you friends talk lying
But some of them got flowers in their room
When its on and youre falling on every floor
That youre hoping to score
And youre every night ? ? ?
But some of them got flowers in their room
But some of them got flowers in their room
But some of them got flowers in their room
Hear the word that the man on the stairs
Knows your every affair and is holding your hand
And he says some of them got flowers in their room
And he screams in a face
But the smile on the face is cool and its cold
And it reads vacated
And some of them got flowers in their room
And some of them got flowers in their room
And some of them got flowers in their room
And I take someone home and I cant be alone
And theres faces to please and I walk on the knees
Oh you see, I got no flowers in my room
And I laugh with my mouth and I laugh with you
But the joke was a joke that I never really knew
Some of them got flowers in their room
Some of them got flowers in their room
Some of them got flowers in their room
song performed by by Ocean Colour Scene
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Blind!
A red-roofed house is shining to the skies;
A house red-roofed and brilliant in the wind:
A house of colour filled with wandering eyes;
And all the eyes are blind.
A gentle sound of moving fills each room:
A sound of hands, - dumb hands that touch and pry:
A sound of fingers feeling in a tomb
Before they close and die.
A hundred windows face long rows of flowers-
Long rows of flowers, and flowers that sway and dance
Where lidded eyes can gaze for hours and hours;
Blue eyes that shut in France.
poem by Leon Gellert
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Watching Me Fall
I've been watching me fall for it seems like years
Watching me grow small, i watch me disappear
Slipping out my ordinary world, out my ordinary eyes
Yeah slipping out the ordinary me into someone else's life
Into someone else's life...
There's a thin white cold new moon and the snow is coming down
And the neon bright tokyo lights flicker through the crowd
I've been drifting around for hours and i'm lost and i'm tired
When a whisper in my ear insatiable breathes
"why don't you follow me inside?..."
Yeah the room is small, the room is bright
Her hair is black, the bed is white
And the night is always young
Is always young... always young
The night is always young...
Yeah i've been seeing them strip to the bone in the mirror on the wall
Seeing her swallow him whole like it's not me at all
She holds out her hands and i follow her down to my knees
And the sucking inside insatiable smiles
"you will forget yourself in me..."
Yeah the room is small, the room is bright
Her eyes are black, the bed is white
And the night is always young
And the night goes on and on
And the night is always young
And the night is never over and over and over and over and over...
And this it's gone
And this it's gone
Yeah then it's gone
Yeah it's a cruel mean cold new day and outside the snow is still coming down
And in the blood red tokyo bed i watch me coming round
She pulled him down for hours
Deeper than i've ever been
And as i fall in the mirror on the wall
I'm watching me scream
I'm watching me scream
I'm watching me scream
I'm watching me scream
Yeah i've been watching me go for it must be years
Watching me get slow, i watch me disappear
And one day, yeah i know, i won't come back at all...
And always over and over in his ordinary eyes
I'm watching me fall
I'm watching me fall
I'm watching me fall
I'm watching me fall
song performed by by Cure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To A Friend Who Likes To Have Beauty In Her Hands
you do not gather the flowers
that easily from the sides of the hill
where you were never there
once
planting the seeds
nothing comes by chance or random
nothing sprouts just like magical seeds
using the lighted wand of your
fairy godmother
the flowers grow and bloom there
because someone took the burden
of seeding, transplanting, watering
and pruning them
these flowers are taken cared of
by loving hands
do not think that there is no sweat at all shed from the brows
for something so beautiful to land in your hands
or even by an accidental gaze hovering in the
retina of your eyes
he spent the sleepless nights watching the flowers
he bowed down to earth as though asking for the mercy
of the gods
he prayed and worked hard then beauty comes
in the grandeur of its petals in the dignity of its perfume
arrayed by the pearls of the dews
and salted by the power
of his tears.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Storeroom
I love you, without caring whom you love.
My hands below the belt, or my hands above
in the arms of other men,
or in my bed again.
It's just a man,
Taking what he needs,
From the store room,
Store room, store room.
I love to see you sitting there upon your throne,
your preachers all around you
being bored, and your prophet straight and tall.
And yet they'll undermine it all.
Just a man, just a man,
taking what he needs,
from the store room,
store room, store room.
Yeah, Shakespeare said it all, then he said no more
and he left me feeling just like a two bit whore.
Well the silence broke my heart, but yes
I spread my legs apart.
It's just a man ...
?????
?????
The hermit in the Wild,
the parent in the child.
Just a man ...
Oh my love, let us unpin you,
???? you done, bringing more:
the mother and the father, the daughter and the son.
But should one refuse to come, it does not subtract the sum
It's just a man ...
It's not a (due?) of burning pounds that ruins your mind
like a spoon that you turn and you turn and you don't unwind,
Though these wars that you did not stop,
they don't tear your sleep apart.
It's just a man ...
???? that keeps you up,
What a (moon?) coming like a headlight through the window
Not the thumbnail of a screen, (?)
No best way to dream (?)
It's just a man ...
Now the woman by your side is she awake?
But there's nothing you want to give her,
and there's nothing that you really want to take.
You don't even try to prove that the noisy neighbor's making love. (?)
It's just a man ...
I love you without caring whom you love ...
song performed by by Leonard Cohen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Chains Around Me
You went out for a while
I was left alone with him
Before i knew it i was taken
The room was dark and cold
The door was locked
I was alone with him
He came closer
The sound of him filled the room
He grabbed my small arms
And pinned me to the wall
He says dont worry i wont hurt you
One hand lost its grip
He feels my heart race
His hand lets go for a second
I tried to move
And i failed to get away
He pushes me back against the wall
All his weight on me
Silence falls for a second
A sound fills the room
I didnt know it was
He turns around
His cold hard hands run over me
I cry in fear he says be quiet
Before i knew it i was an the floor
I felt his hands hold me down
I look up only to see him over me
The icy stare in his eyes watch me
I cant pull or move away
I can only stay still and watch him
The feeling over me the pain unbearable
Every second hurts every minute kills
I cry wishing it would end
He says never tell
I thought it was over for good
But every chance he got he did it again
I couldnt stop him he was too strong
He is like a chain tied around me
Theres nothing i can do
poem by Kerrie Maurer
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The Shadow-Child
Why do the wheels go whirring round,
Mother, mother?
Oh, mother, are they giants bound,
And will they growl forever?
Yes, fiery giants underground,
Daughter, little daughter,
Forever turn the wheels around,
And rumble-grumble ever.
Why do I pick the threads all day,
Mother, mother,
While sunshine children are at play?
And must I work forever?
Yes, shadow-child; the live-long day,
Daughter, little daughter,
Your hands must pick the threads away,
And feel the sunshine never.
Why do the birds sing in the sun,
Mother, mother,
If all day long I run and run,
Run with the wheels forever?
The birds may sing till day is done,
Daughter, little daughter,
But with the- wheels your feet must run—
Run with the wheels forever.
Why do I feel so tired each night,
Mother, mother?
The wheels are always buzzing bright;
Do they grow sleepy never?
Oh, baby thing, so soft and white,
Daughter, little daughter,
The big wheels grind us in their might,
And they will grind forever.
And is the white thread never spun,
Mother, mother?
And is the white cloth never done,
For you and me done never?
Oh yes, our thread will all be spun,
Daughter, little daughter,
When we lie down out in the sun,
And work no more forever.
And when will come that happy day,
Mother, mother?
Oh, shall we laugh and sing and play
Out in the sun forever?
Nay, shadow-child, we'll rest all day,
Daughter, little daughter,
Where green grass grows and roses gay,
There in the sun forever.
poem by Harriet Monroe
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In My Room
I stand alone and watch the clock
I only wait for it to stop
And in the room locked up inside me
The cutout magazines remind me
I sit and wait alone in my room
And in my room against the wall
There is picture very small
A photograph I took some years ago
It shows a picture of the room I know
I sit and wait alone in my room
Chorus
The walls are white and in the night
The room is lit by electric light
I stand and watch the clock
I only wait for it to stop
The doors are shut and all the windows lock
The only sound is from the clock
I sit and wait alone in my room
Repeat chorus
song performed by by Yaz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In My Room
I stand alone and watch the clock
I only wait for it to stop
And in the room locked up inside me
The cutout magazines remind me
I sit and wait alone in my room
And in my room against the wall
There is picture very small
A photograph I took some years ago
It shows a picture of the room I know
I sit and wait alone in my room
Chorus
The walls are white and in the night
The room is lit by electric light
I stand and watch the clock
I only wait for it to stop
The doors are shut and all the windows lock
The only sound is from the clock
I sit and wait alone in my room
Repeat chorus
song performed by by Yaz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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And The Clock? /A Sat?
endlessly wide in my eyes
there beats the room and strikes the clock
out of my hands into the distances
cracked is the room-and the clock?
bezmjerno velika u mojim očima
otkucava soba i sat
iz mojih ruku u daljine puca soba-a sat?
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Move Along
Go ahead as you waste your days with thinking
When you fall everyone sins
Another day and you've had your fill of sinking
With the life held in your
Hands are shaking cold
These hands are meant to hold
Speak to me, when all you got to keep is strong
Move along, move along like I know you do
And even when your hope is gone
Move along, move along just to make it through
Move along
Move along
So a day when you've lost yourself completely
Could be a night when your life ends
Such a heart that will lead you to deceiving
All the pain held in your
Hands are shaking cold
Your hands are mine to hold
Speak to me, when all you got to keep is strong
Move along, move along like I know you do
And even when your hope is gone
Move along, move along just to make it through
Move along
(Go on, go on, go on, go on)
When everything is wrong we move along
(Go on, go on, go on, go on)
When everything is wrong, we move along
Along, along, along
When all you got to keep is strong
Move along, move along like I know you do
And even when your hope is gone
Move along, move along just to make it through
[x3]
(Move along)
(Go on, go on, go on, go on)
Right back what is wrong
We move along
song performed by by All American Rejects
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Another Night with Miss Pinkie
Miss Pinkie (she dropped
the title Mrs from
her name ages ago)
lay on the sofa
and said
take me if you want
spank me if you will
and he stood
looking at her
a glass of scotch
in his hand
the music of Mahler's
symphony number 4
coming through the door
from an outer room
she lay butt naked
her amble flesh
spread out
her hands resting
on her breasts
who's the orchestra
on the Mahler piece?
he asked
can't remember
she said shifting slightly
her blue eyes searching him
aren't you going to oblige?
she said
he drank back
the scotch
and put the glass down
on the small coffee table
can I sit first?
sure
she said and sat up
and moved over
to allow him room
beside her
he gazed at her
at her dyed blonde hair
at her eyes deep
like oceans of blueness
knowing she had
19 years upward on him
and all she wanted
was a few hours
of talk and laughter
and a leisurely screw
one of the old guys
died at the home today
he said
out of the blue
oh which one?
she asked
the one who sat
in his room each day
and looked out
the window
and said next to nothing
oh him
she said
think he was
broken hearted
she added
he took in
the beauty spot
on her cheek
like Marilyn used
to have years ago
so how about it?
she asked
are you ready for it?
the Mahler piece softened
some moving movement
well?
she said placing
a hand on his thigh
maybe you could put
on Brahms for a change
he said
sensing her hands
move upwards
maybe
she said softly
if you're a good boy
the lights were low
the lights from the street
added a different shade
of glow
ok
he said
and her hands moved
and did their work
and so did his
bit by bit
time over time
the music playing on
in the background
that and flesh slapping
and the sofa squeaking
was the symphony
of a sexual sound.
poem by Terry Collett
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He's all grown up
Tiny hands lift
He cries out for mother
She picks him up and holds him close
And rocks in back to sleep
Small hands grab
The dirt feels good in his hands
He looks up at his sister
She picks some up too
Rough hands hold tight
The suit case rolls along the floor
He sits in his seat
And looks out the window
Pale hands pick up a controller
Button's press and c sticks move
His eyes fixed on a screen
He barely moves
Big hangs type
Bulletins, poems, and stories
He writes all night
He amazes his mother
Smaller hands move a mouse
His sister finds his poems
She wonders how he grew up so fast
She realizes he's all grown up
poem by Hannah Heins
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Sometimes I Feel You
Sometimes I feel you
Your presence
Tickling my neck
Sometimes I feel you
Waking up
Feeling my Sweat drip
I saw you
Sometimes I reach for you
My hand stretching
My muscles stiffening
I cannot get to you
Sometimes I talk to you
My eyes closed
In the middle of the night
When my body sleeps
And my mind does not
Sometimes I feel you
Dripping from the sky
You are lonely
You seem sad
You bring weather
That makes my bones weak
Sometimes I feel you
Through my window
Gently stroking the blinds
Sometimes I hear you
Whistling through the air
Creating a tornado of despair
Sometimes I grieve for you
Your life was too short
When you left this world
I wasn't even born
But, you are not a stranger
You are my angel
And when you cry
You bring rain
And when you smile
The clouds move
Like your lips do
And the sunshine peaks through
Sometimes I feel you
Through black and white pictures
Your eyes gazing at me
Seeing the creation your daughter has made
You try hard to smile
Behind a garden
You have tamed
Only soon
Your garden will no longer be in your hands
Your eyes dry up
Your flowers dry up
Your hands no longer tame gardens on Earth
Sometimes I feel you
Through my mothers garden
Sometimes I taste you
Through my mothers recipes
Sometimes I see you
Through my mothers eyes
poem by Diana Poems
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Angels
Take this man to prison, the man heard herod say,
And then four squads of soldiers came and carried him away.
Chained up between two watchmen, peter tried to sleep,
But beyond the walls an endless prayer was lifting for his keep.
Then a light cut through the darkness of a lonely prison cell,
And the chains that bound the man of God just opened up and fell,
And running to his people before the break of day,
There was only one thing on his mind, only one thing to say:
Angels watching over me, every move I make,
Angels watching over me!
Angels watching over me, every step I take,
Angels watching over me!
God only knows the times my life was threatened just today.
A reckless car ran out of gas before it ran my way.
Near misses all around me, accidents unknown,
Though I never see with human eyes the hands that lead me home.
But I know theyre all around me all day and through the night.
When the enemy is closing in, I know sometimes they fight
To keep my fight from falling, Ill never turn away.
If youre asking whats protecting me then youre gonna hear me say:
Got his angels watching over me, every move I make,
Angles watching over me!
Angels watching over me, every step I take,
Angels watching over me....
Angels watching over me....
Angels watching over me.
Got his angels watching over me, every move I make,
Angels watching over me!
Angels watching over me, every step I take,
Angels watching over me!
Angels watching over me,
Angels watching over me,
Angels watching over me,
Angels watching over me!
Though I never see with human eyes the hands that lead me home....
song performed by by Amy Grant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Untold
To welcome me there remained marriage invitation in her hands
I went to her marriage hid amongst the huge crowd
I made sure that even a part of her gaze couldn't catch my presence
Yet her countenance was never left away from my vision
Her eyes were expecting someone, I realised
It should be me, I wished
She should rush and hug me in that place, I imagined
This might not happen, I cried
The tear drops, my unsaid love and flowers, I bestowed
In the normal lives, we went
Then in the midst, we met
On my shoulders was my little angel daughter, who peacefully slept
With her was her beautiful son, something he continuously pestered
We both were happy about the things we have seen
She asked my daughter's name I said hers
I asked her son's name she said mine
poem by Krishna Kumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Exclusivity....
the selfishness abounds
in the picture
a mom coddles her dad
and only daughter beside a landscape
of tulips
for it's springtime and
freshness is everywhere
the cameras click
and some people not close to the family have to be driven saying
'excuse me, can you move out from there'
family picture, eh?
there exists this feeling of being
excluded
somehow it sometimes gives you the feeling
of correctness
the selfishness of others
begin always with the exclusivity of their newly found families
grandads and grandmoms
have no place in there
even dads and moms
and nephews and nieces
they have become strangers in their
exclusive paradise
and then when the ask
because sometimes poverty too attacks their solidarity
why bother? what the heck?
you have your own private life too
inside your room with your books and lamplight
your bankbook is all yours
and you too have no place for those who are in future need
solitary
you too is an exclusivity
and they too
have no place reserved by you
your room is just enough
your future all yours
your hands are too small
your voice always your own
you do not want anyone to hear it
even in this
poem
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Too High
Oh your bones are brittle
Inside you
Wrap so soft your blood is running
Ill be there
If youre moving slowly
Will you still get there
Ill be there
Such a strong desire
Hunger
All you need
To hope you keep your head yeah
As the slow hand quickens
What youve done with all those around you
Hope for always that someone
Will come and see you
Well Ill be there
To watch you saltry turning
Seething
Ill be there
Minutes hold on to hours
Gets you twisting
All you need
To hope you keep your head yeah oh
The slow hand quickens
Howd you leave it
With the love you lost
You made them crawl to be without you
The slow hand quickens
Yes
Sand is empty
In the hourglass
Ill be there
To turn it over and over
In your head
So you keep the hope
You get your day yeah oh
As the slow hand quickens
Oh you see
Too hard to break
Too cold to burn
Afraid your chance is gone
The wires are crossed
Your mouth is lost
You fear youve left it far too long
The minutes pass
The hours are gone
So hard to find your way alone
As the slow hands quicken
The slow hands quicken
These slow hands quicken
song performed by by Dave Matthews Band
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Examination Center
I am neither afraid of skyscrapers
nor of those huge architectural marvels & mansions
and the artistic, planned, laborious creations
of 21st century.
I am afraid of
that small room
where some desks and chairs
keep me glued
for three hours
in a bitter struggle
like between
life and death
absolute silence
turning the place in crematorium
and those two fearsome eyes
watching furiously
from a distance
I am afraid of
that piece of paper
with letters in black print
which can churn & agitate anyone's intellect
sucking the blood like a vampire
in three hours stint
I am afraid of that room
I am afraid of that room.
(2010)
poem by Tribhawan Kaul
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For My Daughter
Looking into my daughter’s eyes I read
Beneath the innocence of morning flesh
Concealed, hintings of death she does not heed.
Coldest of winds have blown this hair, and mesh
Of seaweed snarled these miniatures of hands;
The night’s slow poison, tolerant and bland,
Has moved her blood. Parched years that I have seen
That may be hers appear: foul, lingering
Death in certain war, the slim legs green.
Or, fed on hate, she relishes the sting
Of others’ agony; perhaps the cruel
Bride of a syphilitic or a fool.
These speculations sour in the sun.
I have no daughter. I desire none.
poem by Weldon Kees
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