Just What I Desired
'House for Sale'. is what the notice said,
I looked at it, then the name, I read,
The telephone number I noted as well,
I thought I might give them an early bell,
And find out what price it was they'd set,
And if it was possible, that I could get,
This place for a reasonably low outlay,
I'd better sort this venture out right away,
Cos this was the house that I desired,
As I stood there, and so much admired,
The neat front door, the windows tall,
The clematis growing along the wall,
This would suit me well, it's really fine,
Excitement shivered right down my spine.
Then just as I turned and made to leave,
A van drew up, and I had to grieve,
For on the notice board in letters bold,
They nailed the horrid word, that stated 'SOLD! '
poem by Ernestine Northover
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Most Exclusive Residence For Sale
It was the biggest house in the neighborhood.
He went and bought this house when he made good.
Ten bedrooms and a swimming pool,
Where he entertained all the people that he knew.
But he hit the hard times and had to sell out.
Most exclusive residence for sale.
He went and spent all the money that he had.
Because he had a heart and not a head.
He spent it all on girls and fancy jewelry.
Then he found himself in front of a judge and jury,
And the judge said to pay up, our you must sell out.
Most exclusive residence for sale.
He had to tell all the servants to go away.
Couldnt even afford to pay their way.
He took to the bottle and drunk himself down,
Then he soaked away all the troubles and let them drown.
Then he saw a notice on the wall,
Most exclusive residence for sale.
Most exclusive residence for sale.
La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
House for Sale
I stood in the midst of the empty house,
It was silent, empty, and bare,
gone was the laughter the tears and the life,
and the family that once lived there.
I stood there observing, to try to revive
the memories this house had to share,
the secrets, excitement, unhappiness too,
these feelings so willing to bear.
I heard children playing and lapping up life,
I heard adults talking and scolding,
This house bore it all with its solid repose,
and accepted with wisdom beholding.
I stood in the midst of the empty house,
with a feeling of sadness around,
abandoned and empty, a lonely shell,
for the place never uttered a sound,
it was silent and bare, where the rooms had been stripped
and the furniture taken away,
the paint had been scratched and the floor left unwashed
when the house was abandoned that day.
The ghosts from its past walk through each lonely room,
and I sigh as I button my coat,
I slam the front door with an echoing bang
and a lump seems to lodge in my throat-
for there on the green lawn for all eyes to see
with dark letters outstanding on pale
is a board standing taut in the cold winter sun
with the large, lonely wording- "For Sale"
poem by Margaret Hanning
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Too Tired To Notice The Storm Of The Earth...
i wake up early today
i open the windows and the door
the ground is flooded
the trees shed more leaves
the chickens' feathers are
thoroughly wet
some branches are cut-off
from those old tall trees
our dog is not wagging its tail
the lights at the kitchen are not turned off
by the looks of it
there was a big storm last night
i did not notice it
i was dead asleep
too tired of my own inner storms
my door is closed,
all my windows are shut.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Coming Home
The railings were old and rusty,
The door paint was faded and chipped,
The poor old house had seen better days,
The roof, made of slate, had now dipped.
The windows showed broken hinges,
The path to the door, overgrown,
This was the place where I was born,
The only real home I had known.
The 'rambler' that clung to the front porch,
Was a rose in the deepest red,
Now looking forlorn and so straggly,
I thought that maybe it was dead.
But tiny buds were shooting,
From the root beside the door,
And I was sure that, with a little care,
The house would come alive once more.
I watched as the 'SOLD' sign was erected,
And I felt I had reached home at last,
I knew that I would be happy here,
After what had been in my past.
I washed, swept, scrubbed and polished,
Until everything looked 'brand new',
Then my heart sped back to my childhood days,
My return home, was well overdue.
poem by Ernestine Northover
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
She Lives Alone
She lives alone in a house on a hill.
Sitting in her favourite chair
alone by the window she'd sit and stare
waiting for someone to pass her by
anyone to notice the tears in her eye
She lives alone in a house on the river
Standing at the open front door
alone on the porch, she waits for an hour or more
waiting for someone to pass her by
anyone to notice the tears in her eye
She lives alone in a house in a wood
Lying in her cold single bed
still and alone, for she is dead
she was waiting for someone to pass her by
anyone to be there and say goodbye
poem by Nicola Burkett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
In This House
in this house
where you've been
what you've seen
were the windows
in this house
where you've been
what you've seen
were the doors
in this house
where you've sat
what you ate
was your food
in this house
where you've sat
what you ate
was the word
in this house
where you stood
what you could
something say
in this house
you could open
windows doors clapping wings
in this house
you could open
soul that heaven upward sings
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Notice What This Poem Is Not Doing
The light along the hills in the morning
comes down slowly, naming the trees
white, then coasting the ground for stones to nominate.
Notice what this poem is not doing.
A house, a house, a barn, the old
quarry, where the river shrugs--
how much of this place is yours?
Notice what this poem is not doing.
Every person gone has taken a stone
to hold, and catch the sun. The carving
says, "Not here, but called away."
Notice what this poem is not doing.
The sun, the earth, the sky, all wait.
The crowns and redbirds talk. The light
along the hills has come, has found you.
Notice what this poem has not done.
poem by William Stafford
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Fly On The Wall
(colin moulding)
I am the fly on the wall,
My prying eyes are looking through your bottom drawer.
I just came flying through your door,
You didnt notice that your number had been called.
I see the mother whos beating the babe,
I see the money,
The pennies you save,
Stored on computers,
From birth to the grave.
The fly on the wall,
Hes seeing it all.
I am the fly upon the wall,
Youre in the index of the files that stand so tall.
Although your health is rather poor,
We have a place for those who cannot find a cure.
I know your income,
Your daily crust,
I know your pleasures,
Your passion,
Your lust,
I know when youre living and I know when youre dust.
The fly on the wall,
Hes seeing it all.
One is born and one will die, its all understood
The bit thats in the middle doesnt count
I am the fly on the wall,
My prying eyes are looking through your bottom drawer.
I just came flying through your door,
You didnt notice that your number had been called.
I see the mother whos beating the babe,
I see the money,
The pennies you save,
Stored on computers,
From birth to the grave.
The fly on the wall,
Hes seeing it all. I am the fly
I am the fly upon the wall,
Youre in the index of the files that stand so tall.
Although your health is rather poor,
We have a place for those who cannot find a cure.
I know your income,
Your daily crust,
I know your pleasures,
Your passion,
Your lust,
I know when youre living and I know when youre dust.
The fly on the wall,
Hes seeing it all.
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Fly On The Wall
(colin moulding)
I am the fly on the wall,
My prying eyes are looking through your bottom drawer.
I just came flying through your door,
You didnt notice that your number had been called.
I see the mother whos beating the babe,
I see the money,
The pennies you save,
Stored on computers,
From birth to the grave.
The fly on the wall,
Hes seeing it all.
I am the fly upon the wall,
Youre in the index of the files that stand so tall.
Although your health is rather poor,
We have a place for those who cannot find a cure.
I know your income,
Your daily crust,
I know your pleasures,
Your passion,
Your lust,
I know when youre living and I know when youre dust.
The fly on the wall,
Hes seeing it all.
One is born and one will die, its all understood
The bit thats in the middle doesnt count
I am the fly on the wall,
My prying eyes are looking through your bottom drawer.
I just came flying through your door,
You didnt notice that your number had been called.
I see the mother whos beating the babe,
I see the money,
The pennies you save,
Stored on computers,
From birth to the grave.
The fly on the wall,
Hes seeing it all. I am the fly
I am the fly upon the wall,
Youre in the index of the files that stand so tall.
Although your health is rather poor,
We have a place for those who cannot find a cure.
I know your income,
Your daily crust,
I know your pleasures,
Your passion,
Your lust,
I know when youre living and I know when youre dust.
The fly on the wall,
Hes seeing it all.
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Past a house
We yesterday
drove past a house
near a shopping centre
and at the front wall
the plaster was broken,
the garden that was something
at a time
was treaded to pieces
and left uncared.
The front door hanged decaying
and when my eyes
walked down the corridor
some of the ceiling was missing,
and the wooden floor
was being used for firewood
It seemed as if the house
was now really becoming a ruin
and a naked black toddler
were crawling outside
and a very thin dog
looked as if it never got food
and my darling said:
“We stayed here at a time
and once this house
belonged to us
and it was a beautiful place
and just see how it looks now.”
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I'm sorry, I didn't notice
I'm sorry, I didn't notice
When this started to happen
I'm sorry, I didn't notice
I just let it begin
I'm sorry, I didn't notice
The change in anythin'
I'm sorry, I didn't notice
When we stopped talkin'
I'm sorry, I didn't notice
We weren't letting each other in
I'm sorry, I didn't notice
That sad, sad trend
I'm sorry, I didn't notice
The beginning of the end
I'm sorry, I didn't notice
You were no longer my friend
But believe me, now I notice
And it hurts deep within
Now that I notice
I hope you'll be again
poem by Dylan Burkhart
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I've Come to Notice More Now
I've come to notice more now,
The falling snow.
I've come to notice more now,
A certain purpose...
I had disavowed.
I've come to notice more now,
The core of my being with more meaning.
A joy I can express...
With less emphasis on things collected.
And a happiness I always had,
But somehow did not allow.
I've come to notice more now,
I can.
I've come to notice more now,
I will!
I've come to notice more now,
My needs are basically fulfilled.
Without desire to seek approval,
Sought to identify my peace of mind!
I've come to notice more now,
Thoughts like that I have left behind.
And notice, I do...
My blessings!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A House for Four
A house for four
What is it? a house for four
A dingy looking thing
Are there windows? none
What is it? a house for four
Such a palace
Are there greetings? none
What is it? a house for four
Why the space is so small
Is there privacy? none
What is it? a house for four
A dozen creeps could be creeping there
Is there any trust? none
Don't judge me for mine
Poor fool i wont
Even give you the time
Are you judging me?
Your quite the choir
With a cracking voice
And
A tall house that falls
To scrutiny
A house for four and
A house for four
A people of choir and
A people of poor
Do you not recognize
The stains are yours?
A house is not a house
Unless there is more
More and more
Sometimes less is more
poem by Deci Hernandez
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Freezing Steel
Freezing steel
Ive flown the house of freezing, the house of freezing steel
And though my bodys back I know it cant be real
cause Ive been on that house without a guiding wheel
The house of freezing steel
Oh wheres it going, picked me up at seven
When my eyes were weak from the light of the morning
Oh sister wont you tell me what a man might want to know
This madness is fine, yes if youre mad at the time
Back on the house of freezing, the house of freezing steel
The tied my body up, Im forced to eat my meal
A cold plate of lamb and cold potatoes too
Now whats a soul to do
Oh lord above, brother wont you tell me
Is this a eucharistic dove
cause Ive been waiting for the right one to appear
But Ive seen it in your face, and baby this aint the place
Up on the house of freezing, the house of freezing steel.
I made my mind up then to get me to the wheel
I made the cabin door, the pilot turned around
He said were venus bound
Oh please take me home
After all Im only human and the earth is where I belong
I must have looked pitiful to this freak without a face
cause as he touched my head I saw myself back in bed
Ive flown the house of freezing, the house of freezing steel
And though my bodys back I know it cant be real
cause Ive been on that house without a guiding wheel
The house of freezing steel
song performed by by Cat Stevens
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Banda Aceh 2
Sun of Banda Aceh burn the
my Body pore
Flaking husk
Second moment [of] my footh
Have to step non-stoped
Circle to knock each door
Rousing grandmother
What fall down the body
Because hot weather sting the
Old husk of its bone bandage
Looking of Window and door
Bunged up
From empty house
Without dweller
dusty and Silent here and there
Non-Stop by step
Turn and knock at
Where met by the slipper, shoe
Natty align in front of door
What is friendliness of people who medium
Besotted joke and loughing,
What is thy house?
Non, this house board with
Non, this non day;
When Teuku and Tengku have foe
And is ing each other door
Its house at all points
This also non day,
When evening
When we
Sit easy going in chair Cafe
What bertebaran of totality town angle
This about our being
With the space and time racing
Non about bringing suit debate
And bring suit the strength in party
Local and national,
Non that our intention
But about our house
What start brittle,
window which openly,
floors of wood board
what clatter if stepped on
because its stanchions
is groggy
or wallboard broken
by age growing older
we will not again
meeting old house of us
what its pillars is groggy
our belief
history will be besapttered of blood
because all
will omit the memory
when all smoothed down equivalent ofland; ground
changed by the building newly
filling balmy space
during racing
racing in the loud sound of hammer
compiling each; every our house brick
glue informed againstly is love,
reconciling with history handicap
past
to get our future
to breath in the fresh air
our house
hotly newly.
poem by Prasetya Utama
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Numbers
Its stranger how some numbers
keep recurring in our lives.
At first, we do not notice it
until one day we think of them.
Our date of birth, houses numbers we have lived in,
our children’s birth date
and our brother or sister’s date of birth.
When you look at them
and one number seems to readily appear,
you begin to wonder if that number
has some bearing on our lives.
The number linked to my life is number 8.
I was born on the 18th,
in Canada the house I grew up in was 28
and my sister was born on the 18th.
Moving to England our house number was 62.
When my wife and I got married,
our first house was 24,
our second house was 18
and our present house number is 107.
My wife’s birth date is the 8th;
my son was born on the 17-8-71.
Everywhere I look the number 8 just keeps popping up.
Coincidence I guess you could call it,
or is there something else a foot.
I will just let you the reader to decide.
3 September 2009
Author’s note.
The evening I wrote this, my wife went out, was talking to someone, and mentioned how the number 8 always appeared in our lives.
Coincidence?
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Empire State Human
Since I was very young I realised
I never wanted to be human size
So I avoid the crowds and traffic jams
They just remind me of how small I am
Because of this longing in my heart
Im going to start the growing up
Im going to grow now and never stop
Think like a mountain, grow to the top
Tall, tall, tall, I want to be tall, tall, tall
As big as a wall, wall, wall, as big as a wall, wall, wall
And if Im not tall, tall, tall, then I will grow, grow, grow
Because Im not tall, tall, tall, tall, tall, tall, tall, tall
Tall, tall, tall, I want to be tall, tall, tall
As big as a wall, wall, wall, as big as a wall, wall, wall
And if Im not tall, tall, tall, then I will grow, grow, grow
Because Im not tall, tall, tall, tall, tall, tall, tall, tall
With concentration
My size increased
And now Im fourteen stories high
At least!!
Empire state human
Just a bored kid
Ill go to egypt to be
A pyramid
Tall, tall, tall, I want to be tall, tall, tall
As big as a wall, wall, wall, as big as a wall, wall, wall
And if Im not tall, tall, tall, then I will grow, grow, grow
Because Im not tall, tall, tall, tall, tall, tall, tall, tall
Tall, tall, tall, I want to be tall, tall, tall
As big as a wall, wall, wall, as big as a wall, wall, wall
And if Im not tall, tall, tall, then I will grow, grow, grow
Because Im not tall, tall, tall, tall, tall, tall, tall, tall
Brick by brick
Stone by stone
Growing till hes fully grown
Brick by brick
Stone by stone
Growing till hes fully grown
Fetch more water
Fetch more sand
Biggest person in the land
Fetch more water
Fetch more sand
Biggest person in the land
song performed by by Human League
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
On Any Other Day
You want something corny?
You got it
Theres a house on my street
And it looks real neat
Im the chap who lives in it
Theres a tree on the sidewalk
Theres a car by the door
Ill go for a drive in it
And when the wombat comes
He will find me gone
Hell look for a place to sit
My wife has burned the scrambled eggs
The dog just bit my leg
My teenage daughter ran away
My fine young son has turned out gay
Cut off my fingers in the
Door of my car
How could I do it?
My wife is proud to tell me
Of her love affairs
How could she do this to me?
My wife has burned the scrambled eggs
The dog just bit my leg
My teenage daughter ran away
My fine young son has turned out gay
And it would be ok on any other day
And it would be ok on any other day
Throw down the morning papers
And spill my tea
I dont know whats wrong with me
The cups and plates are in a
Conspiracy
Im covered in misery
My wife has burned the scrambled eggs
The dog just bit my leg
My teenage daughter ran away
My fine young son has turned out gay
And it would be ok on any other day
And it would be ok on any other day
And it would be ok on any other day
song performed by by Police
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Reconciliation
Taste the wine and smell the roses
Hear the music that used to surround us
Imagine the warmth of my body close to you
And my loving arms surrounding you
How many days has it been
Since we’ve been parted
How many times have we said
We’ve got to get back together
How many times have we reached for the telephone
Only to find that we didn’t have each others number
How much longer must this agony go on
Until one of us gives in, admits we were wrong
It was such a silly argument that caused all this pain
But I swear to you now I’ll never let it happen again
We acted just like spoilt children
That was to our great shame
I reach for the telephone
Dial your number and let is ring
There goes the front door bell
I rush to open the door
And there in front of me is standing you
In unison our voices say “I love you.”
Locked in each others embrace
Now, never leaving forever and ever
17 April 2007
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Old Front Gate
W'en daih's chillun in de house,
Dey keep on a-gittin' tall;
But de folks don' seem to see
Dat dey's growin' up at all,
'Twell dey fin' out some fine day
Dat de gals has 'menced to grow,
W'en dey notice as dey pass
Dat de front gate's saggin' low.
W'en de hinges creak an' cry,
An' de bahs go slantin' down,
You kin reckon dat hit's time
Fu' to cas' yo' eye erroun',
'Cause daih ain't no 'sputin' dis,
Hit's de trues' sign to show
Dat daih's cou'tin goin' on
W'en de ol' front gate sags low.
Oh, you grumble an' complain,
An' you prop dat gate up right;
But you notice right nex' day
Dat hit's in de same ol' plight.
So you fin' dat hit's a rule,
An' daih ain' no use to blow,
W'en de gals is growin' up,
Dat de front gate will sag low.
Den you t'ink o' yo' young days,
W'en you cou'ted Sally Jane,
An' you so't o' feel ashamed
Fu' to grumble an' complain,
'Cause yo' ricerlection says,
An' you know hits wo'ds is so,
Dat huh pappy had a time
Wid his front gate saggin' low.
So you jes' looks on an' smiles
At 'em leanin' on de gate,
Tryin' to t'ink whut he kin say
Fu' to keep him daih so late,
But you lets dat gate erlone,
Fu' yo' 'sperunce goes to show,
'Twell de gals is ma'ied off,
It gwine keep on saggin' low.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!