Wallpaper
I went and bought an all-white bath, a washbasin and loo,
The old one was a mushroom shade, and very out-of-date.
I got a friend to install it, at a fair and reasonable rate,
With pottery squares, a shower screen and vinyl flooring too.
It took four day of chaos, with everything ripped out,
With drilling and loud hammering, continuing every day.
But when it was all finished, and the men had gone away,
It was just a new wallpaper, that I had to think about.
I needed to enhance a very discoloured, tatty wall,
Using paper lightly embossed, of a subtle silky cream,
Chosen to match a beige and slightly off-white colour scheme,
So that when observed by others, it wouldn't appal at all.
My daughter measured out the lengths, each fitted so precise,
She quickly and carefully glued them on, with infinite precision,
It took a lot of searching shops, before making my decision,
So many patterns there to view, all such super merchandise.
But I wanted the rolls unadorned, to make the room look chic,
And give a calmness and clarity to soften the whole design,
I somehow knew the one that I had cosen, would be fine,
Such proved to be the case, so it's now looking really sleek.
The room's so smart and 'with it', and truly comtemporary,
I've matched up to the ceiling, to the tiles and to the floor.
I perceive a lovely feeling, when I walk in through the door,
My bathroom's become a haven of pure peace and harmony.
poem by Ernestine Northover
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Polka Patterns
Everywhere, I see them there
I stop and stare at patterns
I dont care, I must declare
Ive got a flair for patterns
On my hair, the clothes I wear
My savoir faire is patterns
All I see is patterns
The patterns that repeat
Lets go into the bathroom
I know were in a room where you would not expect much math
Usually youre in here for a shower or a bath
But if you gaze upon the floor, and if youre kinda smart
Youll see the repetition is like geometric art
Wow, haha
Look
Everywhere, I see them there
I stop and stare at patterns
I dont care, I must declare
Ive got a flair for patterns
On my hair, the clothes I wear
My savoir faire is patterns
All I see is patterns
The patterns that repeat
Hey!
A polkameister like myself never has to be bored
I just grab my ax and play some patterns on my keyboard
Nows the time for earplugs if you care about your health
So stand back, everybody, Im gonna express myself
Look at this, patterns
Ive got blisters on my fingers
Woo, hey, aw, get down
Yeah, help me, somebody, woo
Still there? okay
Next time you find yourself at an exciting polka party
You can make some patterns with your feet and with your body
If you dont know the steps yet, heres the gang with all the answers
Ladies and gentlemen, introducing, the weird al polka dancers
Here they are
Everywhere, we see them there
We stop and stare at patterns
We dont care, we must declare
Weve got a flair for patterns
On our hair, the clothes we wear
Our savoir faire is patterns
All we see is patterns
The patterns that repeat
Wallpaper, skyscrapers, funny papers, patterns
Evergreens, nouvelle cuisine, human beings, patterns
Garden rakes, wedding cakes, rattlesnakes, patterns
Golden wheat, little feet, my heartbeat
I gotta stop
Patterns, patterns, patterns, patterns
song performed by by Weird Al Yankovic
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pictures
Whoa oh yeah
I've seen pictures
Well i saw you just the other day
And i could not help but look your way
I say you've just got this special look
That has got me completely hooked
Ow
Pictures on the wall
Pictures everywhere
Pictures on the wall
Everywhere i stare
Pictures on the wall
The ceiling and the floor
I'm in a metal room
And i cannot find the door
Will this feeling ever go away?
Or will this feeling stay?
Will this feeling ever go away?
'cause i can't live the rest of my life this way
Pictures on the wall
[c'mon]
Pictures everywhere
Pictures on the wall
[c'mon c'mon]
Everywhere i stare
Pictures on the wall
[c'mon c'mon]
The ceiling and the floor
I'm in a metal room and i cannot find the door
I see your face in the clouds in the sky
I see your face before my eyes, yeah
I see your face everywhere
And now i don't know what to do
Oh oh
Pictures on the wall
Pictures everywhere
Pictures on the wall
Everywhere i stare
Pictures on the wall
The ceiling and the floor
I'm in a metal room
And i cannot find the door
Whoa pictures...
song performed by by Hanson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The White Of The Paper
i like the white screen
i like the white paper
because they ask such
a simple task from me
write as you wish
think as you want to
or dont want to
I feel a white dove
flying amongst wondrous
cumulus clouds
meditate as much as i wish
so that the white becomes
a mere plane of zen,
a vibration of existence
i like the white screen
i like the white paper
because they ask just
such a simple thing of me
to swing myself and exercise
my thoughts so that i let loose
clouds, birds, stars and moon
in the minds of men
i like the white screen
i like the white paper
because they always
are my best friends,
open an infinite plane
for me to act out my antics
for the good of men,
exercise their minds and
let their humours flow
i like the white of the
screen and the paper
because they are always
there to accommodate me
to let the gift from heaven flow
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Adorned Blue
She stood in a copacetic stance,
So bold and in perfect apparel,
The vision didnt appal me at all,
I saw beauty and rare excellence,
It was an embodiment of beauty,
In that moment of glee,
It was an adorned blue
Her waist twisted and narrowed,
Like that of wasps of the Amazon,
Her eyes providing a great beacon,
So innocent in point of reaction,
She never took an akimbo action,
Yet she remained in pure perfection,
Delighting my heart with great affection,
Such snaparazzi, sufficient satisfaction
The adorned blue did steal my sight,
The quadrilateral tiles did envy her,
As the black leather sofas paraised her,
She made the room complete,
Her posture didnt have any deceit,
Any man would long to so relate,
The cream walls marvelled at her,
The white ceiling did cover her grace,
She was cherubic, she was copacetic
She was arabic, she was marubic
She is the best of the beautiful few,
What I fell, if only she knew,
Her beauty so intense and real,
Sexier without immediate clue,
Brightening the colour with great hue,
She perfected and adorned blue
poem by Gaylord Munemo
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Explorations: II
It's my private theatre
The black and white
Screen moves
With you and I
As the only actors
I, the only viewer
Match the screen
Move at its pace
The film rolls
And in stoic silence
I stare as your lips
Move in carefully
Measured movements
The movie of silent era
Shot in the age of sound
Has all your dialogues
On my lips in their varied
Shades, tone and meanings
Intact!
poem by Indira Babbellapati
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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She Has Faces
She has faces up in her bedroom and they gaze down on her guarding her slumber
A black bead rosary under her pillow and when it thunders she clutches it tightly
And she hears silence is white, sound is black, the world is wrapped in a paper sack
And when I leave I close the door to this galaxy of yours
Dropping by I open a window as the breeze blows in the curtains are butterflies
And we hear the church bells ring out on a hill and all of their echoes left us singing
Silence is black, the room is bright, our world is basking in tv light
And we are laid out on the floor of this galaxy of yours
With all of your heroes waiting in paper piles laid on the floor
I push my paintbrush lightly and fill in any empty nail holes
A dresser top, a jewelry box, colored tassels tied in knots
And a porcelain girl danced a music box ballet for us
And your nightlight is a star, or a firefly, that
Leads my gaze up to the ceiling
Wondering if you think that its the sky
With all of your heroes...
Open the window slightly, pick up paper off the floor
I hold my paintbrush tightly, and fill in any empty nail holes
Open the window slightly
song performed by by Verve Pipe
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Take,Take,Take
was sitting there in a comfortable chair
And that was all that I needed
Then my friend offered me a drink for us to share
And that was all that I needed
Well, then I felt at ease
But then I'm not too hard to please
I guess you couldn't call me greedy
Then I was shocked to look up
And see rita hayworth there in a place so seedy
She walked into the bar with her long, red, curly hair
And that was all that I needed
And I said to my friend, "good god, we're lucky men just to even see her"
Take, take, take
Take, take, take
Take, take, take
And I could not resist, I just had to get close to her
And that was all that I needed
I walked and loomed around her table for a while
And that was all that I needed
Then I said, "i hate to bug you, ma'am, but can I have your autograph?"
And that was all that I needed
She pressed her lips against a white piece of paper
And that was all that I needed
Then I saw what she wrote, my heart is in my mouth
And that was all that I needed
Then she handed it to me, and I think that she could see
That that was all that I needed
I started to walk away but then I remembered 'hey, I forgot to get a picture'
So I asked her one more time, "could I have another favor?"
That was all that I needed
She was kind and posed with me
Then I knew my friend would see my celebrity meeting
Take, take, take
Take, take, take
Take, take, take
She turned and said to me, "I need to go to sleep,"
And it seemed so mean
It's almost as if she could not appreciate how cool I was being
She said, "good night" and walked away
And I didn't know what to say
I just couldn't believe it
Well, it's just not fair
I want to get a piece of hair
That was all that I needed
Or maybe a kiss on the cheek
I wouldn't wash it for a week
That would be all that I needed
But she didn't even care
That I was even there
What a horrible feeling
song performed by by White Stripes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Like Her Mom Did
Tears run down her face
Her dad can tell it wasn’t a good day
She wanted to tell what was wrong
She wished that she could sing that song
Like her mom did
Her dad knew there was nothing he could say
She knew that she couldn’t ever pay
Her dad felt the heat in the room
He knew he needed to save her from doom
Like her mom did
She fled to her room and shut the door
Just as rain from her eyes began to pour
She turned on the radio to clam her down
She blasted it as high to the loudest sound
Like her mom did
As her dad knocked on the door
Trying not to bang or break the floor
All he wanted was to know what was wrong
All she wanted was to remember the song
That her mom sang
poem by Alexandra Anderson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The White Room
Spanna noo na noo na ne na naho
Spanna noo na ne ne naho
Spa noo na naho
Noo na naho
Noo na naho
Spa noo na naho
Spanna noo na noo na noo na naho
Spanna noo na noo na nehhey
Spa noo na nehhey
Noo na naho
Noo na naho
Spanna noo na noo na ne na naho
Spanna noo na ne ne naho
[more spa na noo ne na noo things]
Talk to me, talk to me
If you want to know the things we see
Then step inside our skins
The white room, the white room
We spin, we turn, watch and wait
As the world just creeps on bye
The white room, the white room
Ooohhaaa
Talk to me, talk to me
Far below, a small boat sails,
Catching fish from the sea.
The white room, the white room
We climb the mountain,
Feel the wind,
We climbed to touch the stars.
The white room, the white room
Ooohhaaa
The white room, the white room
[more spetta na noo ne na noo things]
The white room, the white room
The white room, the white room
[more spetta na noo ne na noo things]
The white room, the white room
song performed by by KLF
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Autopsy
In a cold, white room
With fluorescent ceiling lights
And sterile floor tiles,
I watch a Y press into
My chest, T-ed shoulders.
My skin is unpeeled, rooled like
A papyrus scroll,
And my internal organs
Are exposed—then unraveled.
poem by Tim Stensloff
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Room In My Heart
My heart was once just like a home
With many rooms and open doors
And I always let love in
It would change the rooms around and then
Leave them empty
'Til one by one I locked each door
And soon forgot what love was for
But I never gave up hopin'
So I left just one door open
In case you found me
So there's a room in my heart for you
If your trust has been stolen too
If you walk softly on this worn out wooden floor
And leave behind you the hurt you've had before
There's a room in my heart for you
We'll paint the walls from blue to white
And set the mood by candlelight
Together we'll keep out the cold
And I'll still be there when we're old
If you'll let me
So there's a room in my heart for you
If your trust has been stolen too
If you walk softly on this worn out wooden floor
And leave behind you the hurt you've had before
There's a room in my heart for you
song performed by by Faith Hill from It Matters To Me
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Merchandise
To the merchandise of gold,
To the merchandise of silver,
To the merchandise of bronze,
To the merchandise of ivory,
To the merchandise of precious stone,
To the merchandise of brass,
To the merchandise of pearls,
To the merchandise of cars,
To the merchanidse of bauxite,
To the merchandise of fine linen,
To the merchandise of houses,
To the merchandise of wine,
To the merchandise of oil,
To the merchandise of luxuries,
To the merchandise of weapons,
To the merchandise of coffee,
To the merchandise of purple,
To the merchandise of wheat,
To the merchandise of sheep,
To the merchandise of timber,
To the merchandise of cattle,
To the merchandise of iron,
To the merchandise of horses,
To the merchandise of fruits,
To the merchandise of frankincense,
To the merchandise of cocoa,
To the merchandise of scarlet,
To the merchandise of precious wood,
To the merchandise of silk,
To the merchandise of chariots,
To the merchandise of commercial planes,
To the merchandise of slaves,
To the merchandise of private jets,
To the merchandise of marbles,
To the merchandise of war planes,
To the merchandise of scented wood,
To the merchandise of fine flour,
To the merchandise of incense,
To the merchandise of cinnamon,
And to the merchandise of fragrant ointment;
But the day comes when we will all cry.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Autumn
white flowers
shadows 'gainst a white wall
all colour spent
here we hesitate
haven't the nerve
to bring to mind
that which we might find
behind a curtain in another room
traces of an old perfume
they turn away
we deflect thoughts
of what it is too late to say
poem by STEPHEN BRIAN Brady
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Hole in the Bathroom Wall
The cottage was old, it needed some work
The walls were of crumbling stone,
The windows, like eyes in a tumbledown Kirk
Were staring, like sockets of bone;
I hadn't much money, I hadn't much choice,
'I'll take it, ' I said to the man,
If only I'd known what the future would bring
I would never have shaken his hand.
My marriage had failed, I had my young son
Just three and a half in the spring,
We bought an old bed and a table, two chairs,
Drove up there and went to move in;
The floorboards were creaky, the walls were damp,
The place was as filthy as hell,
I sat the young lad on the floor by a lamp
And I cleaned, until darkness fell.
The rooms were all empty, they echoed and stirred,
I thought I heard whispers and moans,
The ghosts of the past tried to warn me, I guess,
I couldn't interpret their groans;
I tucked up the lad after dinner, in bed,
And I wandered the house overall,
Then checked out the water, and turning my head
Saw a hole in the bathroom wall.
It wasn't that big, but was over the bath,
I could see through the damp and the rot,
It wouldn't take that much to fill it, I thought,
Then I took a long walk, and forgot;
For days I was painting, cementing and fixing
The cracks were all over the place,
But never a thought of that hole in the wall -
To my ultimate shame, and disgrace.
Outside the cottage, a paddock ran back,
All burnt up and brown in the sun,
There wasn't a leaf or a stick that was green
The summer had barely begun;
Old pieces of iron lay thick on the ground
And lizards lay under their shade,
I should have been warned, but it just didn’t dawn
On me then, to my utter dismay.
A month had gone by, the weather was dry,
So hot that we suffered like hell,
I drew a warm bath, only tepid and low
So the lad could cool off for a spell,
I reached for a towel, but nothing was there,
I remembered it out on the line,
Then ran out the back to retrieve it, and saw
What has ever since haunted my mind.
For over behind the old cottage, there slid
A brown skinned, and hideous snake,
Six foot in length it ignored me and went
For the hole where the wall was baked,
Slowly its body slid into the hole
As I stood there just shaking in fear,
My beautiful baby was sat in the bath
As his deadly opponent drew near.
I ran through the door and I screamed as I ran,
I made for the bathroom door,
Everything seemed to go suddenly slow
As I slid on the muddy, wet floor,
I finally got to the bathroom door,
Reached out, as I started to fall,
The snake had reared up, preparing to strike
From the hole in the bathroom wall.
We often remember 'the day of the snake'
Since my son has grown taller than me,
He has this aversion to lizards and snakes,
And goanna's and skinks in the tree,
We regularly walk round the cottage and fix
Any cracks, any holes, overall;
I lost my right arm from the snake as it struck
From the hole in the bathroom wall.
12 March 2008
poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The bathing adventure
Blue and white fishes on a string
hangs on the bathroom wall,
a striped white and blue tiller
stands at the bath’s taps,
a small light tower
is warning on the edge of the bath
and a dark blue anchor,
alone against the wall
entice you to become part
of the bathing adventure
and the tiller man
is still ashore
while the water splashes into the bath.
I wonder why you enjoy it so much
to splash around like a kid
in the soothing hot water
and it’s very nice,
to wash my cares away
in the big bath.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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0407 The past was a present once
A string of perfect pearls
threaded on grey silk
in a silver jewel-case
I'm keeping for somebody else
so don't open it
A room of carefully-folded
happinesses
but I scrawled 'nostalgia' on the door
so don't go in there
I know what's in the box, the room,
so I haven't looked for a long time
maybe I should
poem by Michael Shepherd
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My Dark Room
Time has ended so I lay
The end to a very painful day
I lay silent with nothing to say
Here in my dark room
With eyes open I can hardly see
Staring at the ceiling thinking of me
Wondering in the future what I will be
Here in my dark room
Will I still have my dark room
The place where there is peace
Or will I feel deceased
In a new dark room
But maybe when the night turns to shine
I won’t feel so but feel fine
Until night when I come back and whine
Here is my dark room
Now it is late I can’t see no more
My arm falls and drops to the floor
The liquid dreams in my head start to pour
Here is my dark room
poem by Paul Celano
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Welcome To The White Room
Welcome to the White Room
Come sit upon a mushroom
Come laugh with me
Come set me free
Welcome to the White Room
poem by David Lacey
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The White Room
(SpringfieldVallance)
I can see her at her windows watching,
locked away inside her skin,
I can see her but I can't get to her, she won't come out,
and she won't let me into
The white room (she's living in)
Lying alone til she comes undone
In the white room, she burns for the real thing.
But it won't come.
In her head is the same obsession
and all the bottles and pills won't heal her heart.
She heard his last confession
and every word just tears her apart
In the white room (locked away)
doing time till her time is done
In the white room there's so much to say
but the words won't come.
Come back to the land of the living,
when you gonna break the chain,
there's so much too much that you're leaving
and you're never gonna stop the rain
In the white room.
waiting for the call that never comes
in the white room, she awaits.
Look at something long enough you'll find,
that the splinters and the cracks begin to show,
I'll be the first in line when the walls start falling
and she lets go of
The white room (it's late)
living alone only makes you numb
In the white room she burns for the real thing
but it won't come
In the white room (she's living in) I think its time
that you're time is done,
In the white room she burns
In the white room (it's late)
lying alone till she comes undone
In the white room she awaits
In the white room
song performed by by Rick Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Staying At Ed's Place
I like being in your apartment, and not disturbing anything.
As in the woods I wouldn't want to move a tree,
or change the play of sun and shadow on the ground.
The yellow kitchen stool belongs right there
against white plaster. I haven't used your purple towel
because I like the accidental cleft of shade you left in it.
At your small six-sided table, covered with mysterious
dents in the wood like a dartboard, I drink my coffee
from your brown mug. I look into the clearing
of your high front room, where sunlight slopes through bare
window squares. Your Afghanistan hammock,
a man-sized cocoon
slung from wall to wall, your narrow desk and typewriter
are the only furniture. Each morning your light from the east
douses me where, with folded legs, I sit in your meadow,
a casual spread of brilliant carpets. Like a cat or dog
I take a roll, then, stretched out flat
in the center of color and pattern, I listen
to the remote growl of trucks over cobbles on
Bethune Street below.
When I open my eyes I discover the peaceful blank
of the ceiling. Its old paint-layered surface is moonwhite
and trackless, like the Sea—of Tranquillity.
poem by May Swenson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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