The Encounter
All the while they were talking the new morality
Her eyes explored me.
And when I rose to go
Her fingers were like the tissue
Of a Japanese paper napkin.
poem by Ezra Pound
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Love In The Air
Love in the Breeze.
At the nearly empty parking lot, near the supermarket,
two plastic bags danced in the spring breeze.
They elegantly circled each other, came near, almost
touched, but danced away from one another only to
meet again in a close circle; know they shyly touched.
A paper napkin with smeared lipstick on wanted to
join in, but the two plastic bags had only eyes for each
other. Deeply humiliated the napkin took refuge under
a car, but the car drove off and it had nowhere to hide.
So it began dancing alone, in slow motion, with eyes
closed as it was dreaming and the lipstick smiled.
A gust of wind came blew the napkin high into the sky
and away from the parking lot to a secret place of peace
only exploited paper napkins know of.
poem by Oskar Hansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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How Can I Speak About Morality?
All the while they were talking
the new code
of morality
she looks at me
with a margarita on one hand
and smoke on the other
she looks at me
with disdain
and
i think, she feels
so sorry
for my form
and beliefs
she is asking
if i am a professional
virgin, (of course, i am not)
i rise to go
and she follows me
her eyes i mean
slowly undressing me
seeing my
legs and bottoms and waist
she calms down
she waters herself
with some hormones running in her
hands
exiting down to her toes
her fingers feel
like iron rods
to the fragility of my
tissues
how can i speak
about
morality?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Turning Japanese
Ive got your picture
Of me and you
You wrote, I love you.
I love you, too
I sit there staring when theres nothing else to do
Oh, its in color
Your hair is brown
Your eyes are hazel
And soft as clouds
I often kiss you when theres no one else around
Ive got your picture, got your picture
Id like a million of em over myself
I want a doctor to take your picture
So I can look at you from inside as well
Youve got me turning up, Im turning down, Im turning in, and Im turning round
Im turning japanese, I think Im turning japanese, I really think so
Turning japanese, I think Im turning japanese, I really think so
Turning japanese, I think Im turning japanese, I really think so
Turning japanese, I think Im turning japanese, I really think so
Ive got your picture, Ive got your picture
Id like a million of them over myself
I want a doctor to take your picture
So I can look at you from inside as well
Youve got me turning up, Im turning down, Im turning in, and Im turning round
Im turning japanese, I think Im turning japanese, I really think so
Turning japanese, I think Im turning japanese, I really think so
Turning japanese, I think Im turning japanese, I really think so
Turning japanese, I think Im turning japanese, I really think so
No sex, no drugs, no wine, no women
No fun, no sin, no you, no wonder its dark
Everyone around me is a total stranger
Everyone avoids me like a cyclone ranger
Everyone
Thats why Im turning japanese, I think Im turning japanese, I really think so
Turning japanese, I think Im turning japanese, I really think so
Turning japanese, I think Im turning japanese, I really think so
Turning japanese, I think Im turning japanese, I really think so
Turning japanese, I think Im turning japanese, I really think so
Turning japanese, I think Im turning japanese, I really think so
(think so, think so, think so)
Turning japanese, I think Im turning japanese, I really think so
Turning japanese, I think Im turning japanese, I really think so
(think so, think so, think so...)
song performed by by Liz Phair
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Talking About Us
(j. spinks)
Late last night I was sitting all alone
You were there on the end of my phone
I was thinking bout you
You were talking bout us
In my mind I just wanted you there
Run my fingers through your hair
I was thinking bout you
You were talking bout us
I closed my eyes cos I was out of control
From fingers to the tip of my toes
I was thinking bout you
You were talking bout us
Late last night you know I needed you there
I was sitting kinda back in my chair
You were talking to me I was thinking bout us
All I wanted was to see you undress
I could picture you more or less
I was thinking bout you
You were talking bout us
I closed my eyes cos I was out of control
From fingers to the tip of my toes
I was thinking bout you
You were talking ? bout us oh, la, la, la, la
Oh oh la, la, la, la
Last night it was getting kinda late
I got the message and you knew I couldn? t wait
I was thinking ? bout you you were talking bout us
I closed my eyes cos I was out of control
From fingers to the tip of my toes
I was thinking bout you
You were talking bout us
That? s you and me babe
I was thinking bout you you were talking bout us
I was thinking bout you you were talking bout us
song performed by by Outfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Talking 'bout Us
LATE LAST NIGHT I WAS SITTING ALL ALONE
YOU WERE THERE ON THE END OF MY PHONE
I WAS THINKING 'BOUT YOU
YOU WERE TALKING 'BOUT US
IN MY MIND I JUST WANTED YOU THERE
RUN MY FINGERS THROUGH YOUR HAIR
I WAS THINKING 'BOUT YOU
YOU WERE TALKING 'BOUT US
I CLOSED MY EYES COS I WAS OUT OF CONTROL
FROM FINGERS TO THE TIP OF MY TOES
I WAS THINKING 'BOUT YOU
YOU WERE TALKING 'BOUT US
LATE LAST NIGHT YOU KNOW I NEEDED YOU THERE
I WAS SITTING KINDA BACK IN MY CHAIR
YOU WERE TALKING TO ME I WAS THINKING 'BOUT US
ALL I WANTED WAS TO SEE YOU UNDRESS
I COULD PICTURE YOU MORE OR LESS
I WAS THINKING 'BOUT YOU
YOU WERE TALKING 'BOUT US
I CLOSED MY EYES COS I WAS OUT OF CONTROL
FROM FINGERS TO THE TIP OF MY TOES
I WAS THINKING 'BOUT YOU
YOU WERE TALKING ?BOUT US OH, LA, LA, LA, LA
OH OH LA, LA, LA, LA
LAST NIGHT IT WAS GETTING KINDA LATE
I GOT THE MESSAGE AND YOU KNEW I COULDN?T WAIT
I WAS THINKING ?BOUT YOU YOU WERE TALKING 'BOUT US
I CLOSED MY EYES COS I WAS OUT OF CONTROL
FROM FINGERS TO THE TIP OF MY TOES
I WAS THINKING 'BOUT YOU
YOU WERE TALKING 'BOUT US
THAT?S YOU AND ME BABE
I WAS THINKING 'BOUT YOU YOU WERE TALKING 'BOUT US
I WAS THINKING 'BOUT YOU YOU WERE TALKING 'BOUT US
song performed by by Outfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Paper Rose
you smell like a rose,
you look like a rose
you have some dew
on the petals of this red,
red rose,
but you do not wilt
until then
i know that you are
this paper rose
this fakery
then you say
you do not fear me
i do not intimidate you
for real
this paper tiger
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Alankar(Decor) -36
Making Of A Rose(Triolet)
Just making of a rose a Rose
Cuts and folds plastic or paper
Then paints with all pink rouged a Rose
Just making of a rose a Rose
Blooms, scents, charms rosy Rose her rose
Thorns and scissors-they don't differ
Just making of a rose a Rose
Cuts and folds plastic or paper
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Man, I Do Not Really Know If I Have Written Something
i like the sound of the poo
not winnie's
i waited for minutes
and scribbled something
on that white tissue paper
and then i made the last moan
and then i sighed
and wiped my bottom
and then i throw away the
tissue and then there
was this sound of
relief, this flushing sound
and then everything
is gone after a short
whirl & whirl and whirl
and swosh
man, i did not know
that i have written
(something so well?)
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Walls have ears, paper sliding doors have eyes.
For children to take morality seriously they must be in the presence of adults who take morality seriously. And with their own eyes they must see adults take morality seriously.
quote by William Bennett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Sheet of Paper
A sheet of paper is wrestled by the wind
Like living tissue inside us.
It is a shown substance of celebration
Like the masses of people in harmony,
As if earthquakes position their young inside themselves,
We are not younger than paper,
We have youth not old age,
But our lessons fade away.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Fundamental Of Liar Chapter CXVIII: I’m Just Talking To Myself
I’m not talking to you
I’m not talking to anyone
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not grumbling
I’m not cursing
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not insane
I’m not in trance
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not mocking
I’m not threatening
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not sharing secret
I’m not hiding something
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not mad
I’m not in rage
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not jealous
I’m not envious
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not afraid
I’m not in pessimism thought
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not whining
I’m not complaining
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not depressed
I’m not in foul mood
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not blaming
I’m not accusing
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not in denial
I’m not in confusion
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not informing
I’m not warning
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not against you
I’m not rebelling
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not help you
I’m not assist you
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not running some plot
I’m not in a mischief plan
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not in great grudge
I’m not in revenge mind
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not suspicious
I’m not curious
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not saying sorry
I’m not saying thank you
I’m just talking to myself
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Red, Red Rose
Red, red rose, she blew her breath
Fingers, it’s stem she caressed
Then she closed her eyes and breathed the fragrance in
Tell me red, red rose, where does love end
She placed the rose, gently against her lips
She plucked a single petal, with finger tips
And as the wind caught and carried up high
Tell me red, red rose, can love it fly
Slowly one by one, each petal fell
Upon the last in her eye, a tear it swelled
And then she sighed as she asked to her self
Tell me red, red rose, is for love, is this what’s left
Red, red rose, red, red rose
You stand for love you should know
Should we hold on tight with all our might
Must one day we let go
Red, red rose, red, red rose
Your petals fly in the breeze
If I let go, red, red rose
What becomes of me.
Copyright 2006 Bill Simmons
aka BillWilliamStar
[email protected]
poem by Bill Simmons
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Freedom Bound
Beneath my fingers I feel the smooth silky paper.
Somewhere within my head, a poem’s carefully strung.
Then one will be committed to join with the other,
When it has been carefully sprung.
Beneath my fingers I see the strong tough paper.
Somewhere within my head a poem’s shining through.
Then one will be exhibited, joined with the other,
Where they will be seen, shining new.
Beneath my fingers I hear the crisp firm paper.
Somewhere within my head a poem’s freedom bound.
When one will be entrusted to join with the other,
Then freedom will at last be found.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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The Japanese chose the principle of eternal peace as the basis of morality for our rebirth after the War.
quote by Kenzaburo Oe
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Honor And Courage
In Japan, they write on rice paper,
In America, we write on the sides of buildings.
In Japan they honor their elders,
In America, we rob them on buses,
And abuse them.
In Japan there is great love for their country.
In America, people are refusing to stand,
For the national anthem.
In Japan, men are volunteering to die,
Without a second thought,
To give up their lives,
To save their fellow citizens.
Oh yes, you'll say, the Japanese are great,
At dying, at suicide missions.
But is that the point?
Shouldn't the point be,
The Japanese love their homeland,
The Japanese love their own people,
The Japanese love their way of life,
The Japanese love their traditions,
Love, honor, respect, courage,
Nobody writes on Japanese walls.
Offenders are quickly and severely dealt with.
Wouldn't you volunteer also?
Maybe not.
Honor, and courage,
Seem to be,
In short supply,
Stateside.
3/26/11 Alton Texas
poem by Juan Olivarez
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Take Me Away
(l. stansfield/aska)
How much hurt can we take
When its cold outside all I can do is hide and pray for better times
Oh how I need a friend to wipe the tears from my eyes
Love is hard to find in somewhere so unkind
When its been left here behind
There is a place somewhere and if youll lead me there
Then we can open our eyes
Chorus
So take me away
So far, so far away
Oh, wont you take me to a better day
Take me away
(japanese lyric)
Oh, take me away
(japanese lyric)
Its easy just hold me in your arms
cause when the world is upside down
We can bring it round
How much hurt can we take
How much hurt can we take
It seems that everywhere although we tried to care
Were just not taking the time
When all we communicate is full of greed and hate
Its time to open our eyes
Chorus
(japanese lyric)
We can bring it round
(japanese lyric)
We can bring it round
(japanese lyric)
There is a place somewhere and if you lead me there
Then we can open our eyes
Then we can open our eyes
(repeat chorus to fade out)
song performed by by Lisa Stansfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Love kept her for a teacup
Love kept her for a teacup close to his lips
With both hands trembling on her hips
Her eyes they too were so love-in
That he pulled away at her silk napkin
She held him like he were a teaspoon
But he felt just like a great big baboon
His kisses were like rose water honey
Their bodies crumpled like a Dali oil limply…
poem by Mark Heathcote
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Mu
Japanese film director Yasujiro Ozu's grave only has the inscription of the Japanese character 'mu, ' which means 'nothingness.'
shall i say that
i have been there
and found the same
thing too...
it was all
mu.
but anyway
we who are still here
have to move on
to the next chapters
still searching
for the
non-mu.
who knows?
something to touch
and keep burning
in our fingers
someone to hug and
keep this life
moving
something to live for
that quintessence
that we must have
to put some meaning
on those walls
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Upon this paper my life is written
Upon this paper my life is written,
a tree doubled over in pain.
The red ink flows over the skin,
full stops and commas are hair and stars:
eyes of sea left on ships,
destroyed houses, rusting girders.
This paper is as black as the storm,
destroyed villages where there is no fiesta.
This paper burns as reason does,
lightning in the sky flashes in its millions.
This paper is a sky where there is no God,
this paper is alone…
this paper does not fly…
this paper… it is I.
poem by Menotti Lerro from The Poetry of Menotti Lerro (2011), translated by Andrew Mangham, Maria Rosaria La Marca
Submitted by anonym
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