Sunday Afternoons
I sit at home
at my desk alone
as I used to do
on many sunday afternoons
when you came back to me,
your arms ached for me,
and your arms would close me in
though they smelled of other women.
I think of you
on Sunday afternoons.
Your sweet head would bow,
like a child somehow,
down to me -
and your hair and your eyes were wild.
We would embrace on the floor-
You see my back´s still sore.
You knew how easily I bruised,
It´s a soreness I would never lose.
I think of you
on Sunday afternoons.
poem by Erica Jong
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Related quotes
I Sit At My Desk Alone
I sit at my desk alone
as I did on many Sunday
afternoons when you came
back to me,
your arms aching for me,
though they smelled
of other women
and your sweet head bowed
for me to rub
and your heart bursting
with things to tell me,
and your hair
and your eyes
wild.
We would embrace
on the carpet
and leave
the imprint of our bodies
on the floor.
My back is still sore
where you pressed me
into the rug,
a sweet soreness I would never
lose.
I think of you always
on Sunday afternoons,
and I try to conjure you
with these words
as if you might
come back to me
at twilight
but you are never coming back
never.
The truth is
you no longer exist.
Oh you walk the world
sturdily enough:
one foot in front
of the other.
But the lover you were,
the tender shoot
springing within me,
trusting me with your dreams,
has hardened
into fear and cynicism.
Betrayal does that
betrays the betrayer.
I want to hate you
and I cannot.
But I cannot
love you either.
It is our old love
I love,
as one loves
certain images
from childhood
shards
shining in
the street
in the shit.
Shards of light
in the darkness.
poem by Erica Jong
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sunday, Bloody Sunday
Well, it was sunday, bloody sunday when the shot the people there.
The cries of thirteen martyrs filled the free derry air.
Is there anyone amongst you dare to blame it on the kids?
Not a soldier boy was bleeding when they nailed the coffin lids!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Well, you claim to be majority, well, you know that its a lie.
Youre really a minority on this sweet emerald isle.
When stormont bans our marches, theyve got a lot to learn,
Internment is no answer, its those mothers turn to burn.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Hey! yeah!
Yeah!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
All you anglo pigs and scotties sent to colonise the north,
You wave your bloody union jacks and you know what its worth.
How dare you hold to ransom a people proud and free?
Keep ireland to the irish, put the english back to sea!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Hey, hey, hey!
Alright!
Ooh -
Yeah!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Well, its always bloody sunday in the concentration camps.
Keep falls road free forever from the bloody british hands.
Repatriate to britain all of you who call it home,
Leave ireland to the irish not for london or for rome.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday.
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sunday, Bloody Sunday
Well, it was sunday, bloody sunday when the shot the people there.
The cries of thirteen martyrs filled the free derry air.
Is there anyone amongst you dare to blame it on the kids?
Not a soldier boy was bleeding when they nailed the coffin lids!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Well, you claim to be majority, well, you know that its a lie.
Youre really a minority on this sweet emerald isle.
When stormont bans our marches, theyve got a lot to learn,
Internment is no answer, its those mothers turn to burn.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Hey! yeah!
Yeah!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
All you anglo pigs and scotties sent to colonise the north,
You wave your bloody union jacks and you know what its worth.
How dare you hold to ransom a people proud and free?
Keep ireland to the irish, put the english back to sea!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Hey, hey, hey!
Alright!
Ooh -
Yeah!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Well, its always bloody sunday in the concentration camps.
Keep falls road free forever from the bloody british hands.
Repatriate to britain all of you who call it home,
Leave ireland to the irish not for london or for rome.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday.
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sunday Morning
Sunday morning silence, curtain stay closed late
No one thinks of kitchens mornings in a filthy state
Dishes cups and beer stains, ashtrays on the floor
Sunday morning papers are left outside the front door
Sunday school and sunday roast
Sunday papers sunday post
Sunday morning sunday rest
Sunday sermon sunday best
(sunday, bloody sunday rest)
Glass of fizzy water helps to start the day
Sit and listen to sunday silence, problems fade away
Sunday cars and drivers break the morning air
Uncollected milk outside reveals theres no one there
Sunday school and sunday roast
Sunday papers sunday post
Sunday morning sunday rest
Sunday sermon sunday best
Sunday school and sunday roast
Sunday papers sunday post
Sunday morning sunday rest
Sunday sermon sunday best
Bathrobes hang in waiting, windows steaming up
Somewhere in the sink downstairs lies an unwashed cup
Tea and toast for breakfast clear away the plates
Wash-up prepare for cooking sunday lunch awaits
Sunday lunch awaits
Sunday lunch awaits
song performed by by Madness
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Just Another Sunday
I know you've been dreaming 'bout the times in our lives
But I've been screaming in my bed late at night
A space a little, little and your stack of pain
Makes it grip that skull, to me child that you'll stay
You've been in my life so long, can I get through to you
I touch you eyes and it shades my life blue
There's something I need to say before it's to late
But I won't hold you back, while I'm begging you to stay
Just another Sunday
Just another Sunday
Oh yaaa, just another Sunday
Just another Sunday, oh yaaa
There's too many games in a day for a simple man to face
That desperate moment in your life where you can't be afraid
Don't think your second chance will break around the bend
'Cos hearts don't always share love, or the person on the other
end
You've been in my life so long, can I get through to you
I touch you eyes and it shades my life blue
There's something I need to say before it's to late
But I won't hold you back, while I'm begging you to stay ya
Just another Sunday yaa
Just another Sunday oh baby
It's only one more Sunday
Just another Sunday, oh yaaa
Those are tickets for the same plane, bring it back to me
'Cos felling the same pain makes half the luxery
Take a walk away won't end the carousel
But if walking away can bring you back, then I wish you well
You've been in my life so long, can I get through to you
I touch you eyes and it shades my life blue
There's something I need to say before it's to late
But I won't hold you back, while I'm begging you to stay
Just another Sunday yaa
Just another Sunday oh baby
It's only one more Sunday
Just another Sunday
It's just another Sunday
It's just another
Just another Sunday
Just another oh yaa
Just another Sunday
song performed by by Guns N' Roses
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sunday Bloody Sunday
Well it was sunday bloody sunday
When they shot the people there
The cries of thirteen martyrs
Filled the free derry air
Is there any one amongst you
Dare to blame it on the kids?
Not a soldier boy was bleeding
When they nailed the coffin lids!
Sunday bloody sunday
Bloody sundays the day!
You claim to be majority
Well you know that its a lie
Youre really a minority
On this sweet emerald isle
When stormont bans our marches
Theyve got a lot to learn
Internment is no answer
Its those mothers turn to burn!
Sunday bloody sunday
Bloody sundays the day!
Sunday bloody sunday
Bloody sundays the day!
You anglo pigs and scotties
Sent to colonize the north
You wave your bloody union jack
And you know what its worth!
How dare you hold to ransom
A people proud and free
Keep ireland for the irish
Put the english back to sea!
Sunday bloody sunday
Bloody sundays the day!
Well, its always bloody sunday
In the concentration camps
Keep falls road free forever
From the bloody english hands
Repatriate to britain
All of you who call it home
Leave ireland to the irish
Not for london or for rome!
Sunday bloody sunday
Bloody sundays the day!
Sunday bloody sunday
Bloody sundays the day!
Sunday bloody sunday
Bloody sundays the day!
Sunday bloody sunday
Bloody sundays the day!
song performed by by Lennon John
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Always Another Sunday
There is always another Sunday,
From where do Sundays come from?
Do they sell them next to strike-anywhere matches,
Can you buy a three-pack and get one free
To make a perfect month, of Sundays?
Sunday afternoon might find you sitting at table
With some people you don't know too well,
Trying to make polite conversation
While slicing up some shoe-leathery beef roast,
That has always been the hallmark of the day.
Is it the first day of the week
Or effectively, the last?
How can the week start without any work?
Because it seems to make a better ending, instead.
Will we ever run out of Sundays?
Not unless we run out of football, baseball
Basketball and soccer first; it seems evident
That Sunday is merely a cog, attached to the sports wheel,
And is born and dies each week, with the big game.
You will not find most people discussing their sins
On Sunday afternoons:
You already know what they will be talking about.
poem by Patti Masterman
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Regular John
Who are you girl?
Who are you boy?
Bet I know what your up to
Can I come along?
Your home numbers on the wall
I just had to call...had to
I'm not the only one who will
Run with a knife
Open up your eyes
Open up your room
Open up your arms
Third 16th Sunday
2:16 Sunday night
Where's your daddy now?
I heard he went away
Who are you girl?
Cause i'm so bored with myself
Anyway...anytime...anyplace
I just hang around
Open up your eyes
Open up your room
Open up your arms
Third 16th Sunday
2:16 Sunday night
Open up your eyes
Open up your room
Open up your arms
Open up your door
Open up your eyes
Open up your room
Open up your arms
song performed by by Queens Of The Stone Age from Queens Of The Stone Age
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sunday Papers
Mother doesnt go out any more
Just sits at home and rolls her spastic eyes
But every weekend through the door
Come words of wisdom from the world outside
If you want to know about the bishop and the actress
If you want to know how to be a star
If you want to know about the stains on the mattress
You can read it in the sunday papers, sunday papers
Mothers wheelchair stays out in the hall
Why should she go out when the tvs on
Whatever moves beyond these walls
Shell know the facts when sunday comes along
If you want to know about the man gone bonkers
If you want to know how to play guitar
If you want to know about the other suckers
You can read it in the sunday papers, read it in the sunday papers
Sunday papers dont ask no questions
Sunday papers dont get no lies
Sunday papers dont raise objection
Sunday papers dont got no eyes
Brothers heading that way now I guess
He just read something made his face turn blue
Well I got nothing against the press
They wouldnt print it if it wasnt true
If you want to know about the gay politician
If you want to know how to drive your car
If you want to know about the new sex position
You can read it in the sunday papers, read it in the sunday papers
Sunday papers dont ask no questions
Sunday papers dont get no lies
Sunday papers dont raise objection
Sunday papers dont got no eyes
Sunday papers dont ask no questions
Sunday papers dont get no lies
Sunday papers dont raise objection
Sunday papers dont got no eyes
Read all about it, sunday papers
song performed by by Joe Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sunday Papers
the coffeepot has gone cold.
I can see it clearly in her eyes,
There's no more steam or caffeine
Demerara sugar or cream…
There are no more shortcake biscuits,
Flittered away, afternoons, with
Silkily discarded; nicker-elastic trinkets.
But thankfully, for little mercies,
There are the Sunday papers, and
Lots of lukewarm tea on-tap.
But thankfully, for little mercies,
There are the Sunday papers, and
Lots of lukewarm tea on-tap.
poem by Mark Heathcote
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See Me Through, Part II (Just A Closer Walk With Thee)
Just a closer walk with Thee
Grant it Jesus if you please
I'll be satisfied as long, as I walk, dear Lord, close to Thee
I am weak but Thou art strong
Jesus keep me from all wrong
I'll be satisfied as long, as I walk, dear Lord, close to Thee
See me through days of wine and roses
By and by when the morning comes
Jazz and blues and folk, poetry and jazz
Voice and music, music and no music
Silence and then voice
Music and writing, words
Memories, memories way back
Take me way back, Hyndford Street and Hank Williams
Louis Armstrong, Sidney Bechet on Sunday afternoons in winter
Sidney Bechet, Sunday afternoons in winter
And the tuning in of stations in Europe on the wireless
Before, yes before it was the way it was
More silence, more breathing together
Not rushing, being
Before rock 'n' roll, before television
Previous, previous, previous
See me through, just a closer walk with Thee
Just a closer walk with Thee
Grant it Jesus if you please
I'll be satisfied as long, as I walk, dear Lord, close to Thee
I am weak but Thou art strong
Jesus keep me from all wrong
I'll be satisfied as long, as I walk, dear Lord, close to Thee
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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See Me Through Part Ii
Just a closer walk with thee
Grant it jesus if you please
I'll be satisfied as long, as i walk, dear lord, close to thee
I am weak but thou art strong
Jesus keep me from all wrong
I'll be satisfied as long, as i walk, dear lord, close to thee
See me through days of wine and roses
By and by when the morning comes
Jazz and blues and folk, poetry and jazz
Voice and music, music and no music
Silence and then voice
Music and writing, words
Memories, memories way back
Take me way back, hyndford street and hank williams
Louis armstrong, sidney bechet on sunday afternoons in winter
Sidney bechet, sunday afternoons in winter
And the tuning in of stations in europe on the wireless
Before, yes before it was the way it was
More silence, more breathing together
Not rushing, being
Before rock 'n' roll, before television
Previous, previous, previous
See me through, just a closer walk with thee
Just a closer walk with thee
Grant it jesus if you please
I'll be satisfied as long, as i walk, dear lord, close to thee
I am weak but thou art strong
Jesus keep me from all wrong
I'll be satisfied as long, as i walk, dear lord, close to thee.
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sweet Sunday Kind Of Love
There's something special about it
Just what, i can't quite say
But there's no doubt that it's different
From any other day
There are no words to exactly describe
What i'm speakin' of
It's just a sweet sunday kinda love
We'll read the funnies together
And watch some t.v. too
You can do something for me
And i'll do the same for you
We'll fill the hours with things
That we both most like to do
Spending a sweet sunday lovin' you
Why don't we unplug the phone?
Let's pretend nobody's home, quietly
Just you and me, oh how nice that will be
All through the week i'll look back upon that
Sweet sunday time
While looking forward to that special happiness
We'll find
When we awaken to hear from a songbird up above
Sounds of a sweet sunday kinda love
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sweet Sunday Kinda Love
Theres something special about it
Just what, I cant quite say
But theres no doubt that its different
From any other day
There are no words to exactly describe
What Im speakin of
Its just a sweet sunday kinda love
Well read the funnies together
And watch some t.v. too
You can do something for me
And Ill do the same for you
Well fill the hours with things
That we both most like to do
Spending a sweet sunday lovin you
Why dont we unplug the phone?
Lets pretend nobodys home, quietly
Just you and me, oh how nice that will be
All through the week Ill look back upon that
Sweet sunday time
While looking forward to that special happiness
Well find
When we awaken to hear from a songbird up above
Sounds of a sweet sunday kinda love
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Child of the Dawn
In the small hours of the morning, I sat alone, outside
on a bench that smelled of wood and the old women
that sat there Sunday afternoons to watch the children
playing at the park. I ran my hand against
the smooth wood, a splinter lodging itself into my palm.
I winced and looked into the trees at just the right
instant. The sun was rising behind the branches
like a fish rising through seaweed. Hesitant.
As if afraid of what the water will do to it.
My friend broke into a smile as it was greeted by the pink
and soft orange sky around it, soon giving way to perfect blue.
A pure, motionless blue that went on forever, never
faltering, never ashamed to be the 'sad color'
that was simply a mistake of the People. It knew itself
to mean happiness and beauty. The beauty of the world.
The day dragged on, but it was a nice blue sky day
as the Child of the Dawn traveled across it.
poem by Zoe Guillory
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The sport would not survive today if drivers were being killed at the rate they were in the 1960s and '70s. It would have been taken off the air. It is beamed into people's living rooms on Sunday afternoons, with children watching.
quote by Damon Hill
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I never felt at Home—Below
413
I never felt at Home—Below—-
And in the Handsome Skies
I shall not feel at Home—I know—
I don't like Paradise—
Because it's Sunday—all the time—
And Recess—never comes—
And Eden'll be so lonesome
Bright Wednesday Afternoons—
If God could make a visit—
Or ever took a Nap—
So not to see us—but they say
Himself—a Telescope
Perennial beholds us—
Myself would run away
From Him—and Holy Ghost—and All—
But there's the "Judgement Day"!
poem by Emily Dickinson
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My two favorite things about being a pro player are Sunday afternoons being able to excite many fans and the money because I get to treat my family and friends and myself to nice things.
quote by Dante Hall
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sunday Morning
Maurice white, sheldon reynolds & allee willis
Intro chorus:
Ooh, sunday morning
You;re gonna find my love shining on you
Oh, Im waiting
And my heart is anticipating
Your face
On my pillow
Feel sunshine pouring through the window
Like the grapes on the vine
Love gets sweeter with time
You were made to love
Chorus:
Ooh, sunday morning (Ill see you sunday morning)
Ooh, sunday morning
Its like the best of everything falling on you
Your eyes
Shining on me
Youre the brightest star, that ever could be
Your kiss
Oh, Im so thankful
The love that we share, Im sincerely grateful
The wind blowin in the tree
Singing love songs to me
Singing you were made to love
Chorus:
Ooh, sunday morning (Ill see you sunday morning)
Youre gonna find my love shining on you
Ooh, sunday morning
Its like the best of everything falling on you
Ooh, sunday morning (Ill see you sunday morning)
When we shared sweet love like no other
Ooh, sunday morning
Like a summer day with your lover
Ooh sunday morning (Ill see you sunday morning)
When we shared sweet love like no other
song performed by by Earth Wind And Fire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sunday Kind Of Love
I want a sunday kind of love.
A love to last, past saturday night.
Id like to know its more than love at first sight.
I want a sunday kind of love.
And I want a, a love thats on the square.
Cant seem to find somebody, someone to care.
And Im on a lonely road that leads to nowhere.
I need a sunday kind of love.
I do all my sunday dreaming, and all my scheming.
Every minute, every hour, every day
And Im hoping to discover a certain kind of
Lover who will show me the way.
And my arms need someone to enfold
To keep me warm when mondays and tuesdays grow
Cold. and I need a love for all my life to have
And to hold.
I want a sunday kind of love.
song performed by by Reba Mcentire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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