The Merry Window
The alabaster legs of the lonely woman
hang from the window like white ensigns
out of the laughing window like false teeth
sheets, flagstaffs, telescopes, rolls of music,
or you would say beheaded necks of swans
or the electric horns of factories
where foreign dreams are nightly fabricated.
Yearning for her coal once heaved in the seam
for her the sewers shrieked their way through London
and pigeons ate each other in the air.
But the deserted lady is frozen to the marrow
her heart has floated into her left leg
and her forked tongue asks in three languages
for a bassoon, a pyramid, and an egg.
All the white birds have flown out of her lips
the Polar Bear has eaten her left breast
her eyes are covered with yellow webs of dust,
in fact she is what a Saint would call abandoned
since even her own self has forgotten her.
poem by Francis Scarfe
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Related quotes
Pigeons And The Woman With A Straw Hat
at the bus station
the white pigeons hover
on the morsels of bread
thrown by a brown boy
from a window
a woman with a straw hat
on mini skirt
long legged
short haired
steps out of the bus
carries a red bag
and slips away past the
merry eyes of
men
the boy's mother
closed the window
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Red Hill Mining Town
]from father to son
The blood runs thin
Our faces frozen (still) against the wind
The seam is split
The coal face cracked
The lines are long
And theres no going back
Through hands of steel
And a heart of stone
Our labor day has come and gone
And you leave us holding on
In red hill town
As the lights go down
Im hanging on
Youre all thats left to hang on to
Im holding on
Youre all thats left to hang on to
The glass is cut
The bottle runs dry
Our love runs cold
In the caverns of the night
Were wounded by fear
Injured in doubt
I can lose myself
Im holding on
Youre all thats left to hold on to
And we scorch the earth
Set fire to the sky
Stoop so low to reach so high
A link is lost
The chain undone
Now we wait all day
For the night to come
And it comes
And it comes
Like a hunter (child)
Im hanging on
Youre all thats left to hang on to
Im hanging on to
Youre all thats left to hang on to
We see love slowly stripped away
Our love, has seen a better day
Im hanging on
Youre all thats left to hold on to
Im holding on
Youre all thats left to hold on to
See the lights go down on red hill town
See lights go down on red hill town
song performed by by U2
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Who Am I? I Am! (Part Two)
i am the abandoned dog,
covered with ticks.
i am the wedding ring
flung against the wall.
i am the old man
who cant seem to remember
why he did what he did.
i am the restless boy
roaming the streets.
i am the old woman waiting
for her check to come.
i am the rent unpaid,
and the lights cut off.
i am the gun in the corner,
covered with dust.
i am the broken teeth
of the homeless man.
i am a child of Jesus,
and a renegade sinner.
i am the buddha in the dumpster,
covered with trash.
i am a Muslim, a Hindu,
and a Bhakti searcher.
i am the atheist who questions,
the prodigal who repents.
i am the gallows, the prison,
and the prison of fear.
i am more than less,
and less than more.
i am black, i am white,
i am brown, i am red...
i am human, i am eternal,
i am dust, i am tears....
poem by Eric Cockrell
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My Baby Left Me
(words & music by arthur crudup)
Yes my baby left me,
Never said a word.
Was it something I done,
Something that she heard?
My baby left me,
My baby left me.
My baby even left me,
Never said a word.
Now I stand at my window,
Wring my hands and cry.
I hate to lose that woman,
Hate to say goodbye.
You know she left me,
Yes, she left me.
My baby even left me,
Never said a word.
Baby, one of these mornings,
Lord, it wont be long,
Youll look for me and,
Baby, and daddy hell be gone.
You know you left me,
You know you left me.
My baby even left me,
Never said a word.
Now, I stand at my window,
Wring my hands and moan.
All I know is that
The one I love is gone.
My baby left me,
You know she left me.
My baby even left me,
Never said a word.
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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For A Denial
It rained all night.
Heaving up the dawn immaculately, at my window
the lake crashed on white sands.
A lone tree
smelt of mist and grief.
A fury had submerged a road
leading to a forgotten childhood.
Knives and pins
clouds and bins-
a hate crime erupts between the teeth.
You meditate sitting on an anthill
to recover the lost bones.
Why don’t you leave the country
for good,
the empty vessel, incense and dirty coins?
For conceptual pain, the snake licks the breasts
of a white goddess, with a forked tongue
for sweet milk.
The hungry womanhood cries holding on to morality.
The memory leaks.
You go back to your gods
for renunciation.
poem by Satish Verma
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Wanderer
Wanderer, far from his homeland,
You are poor and you are alone,
For the time, deprived of listening
To the music of mother tongue.
Yet here nature is so magnificent,
That you’re not entirely lost.
Singing birds on the trees around you –
Would you call it a foreign tongue?
Only listening to the autumn flute,
The cicadas iridescent chime;
Only noticing of the dragon-shape
Big white clouds up in the skies, -
You’ll embrace what you have inherited –
The eternal sadness and pain.
In your dreams, you’ll sail away back home
With your eyes shielded from the sun.
poem by Nikolai Stepanovich Gumilev
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Too Many Lies
too many lies,
desecrate the ground.
the footprints of fallen angels,
covered by the dust of hate.
spoon fed history turned bitter,
the sound of children's voices lost.
even the old juke joints,
deserted and vacant.
handmade guitars,
strings made of human flesh.
the howl of an angry wind,
pierces cardboard shelters.
cars abandoned on the side of the road,
fresh turned earth, no hands to plant.
passion's legs wrapped around,
the bodies now hollow.
young girls fall like rain,
forgotten by time.
to be madly in love,
and pant with desire...
all echoes and rust!
when bibles become weapons,
and the cost is too high.
dead poets whisper,
neath the old hanging tree.
flags flown at half mast,
and the factories are closed.
and you just cant remember
your grandfather's face!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Sunrise's Entrance
sunrise is such a lady
with a fashion sense
clad in rays of light
slim between the
shadows of the trees
jeweled with diamond
warm like a lover's hand
sunrise dramatically
arrives full of hope for
another brand new day
there is a fruit tray by the
window
five shiny red apples
there is a base of white
magnolias inside a
golden vase by
the window
there is breakfast on the
table: smiling fried egg
tasty hot dogs, pearl white
rice, brewed coffee and
a slice of ripe yellow mango.
poetry in bliss
music from the breeze
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Bliss Remembered....
a rose
in a white porcelain vase
on top of
a glazed
wooden table
showered with
the early morning light
from the laced
window
while you were
still sleeping soundly
in bed
two yellow birds
chirp
on the sill
of the window
i am at
peace
beside you
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Window
I was staring out the window
The whole time he was talking to me
It was a filthy pane of glass
I couldn't get a clear view
As he went on and on
It wasn't the outside world I could see
Just the filthy pane that I was looking through
So I had to break the window
It just had to be
Better that I break the window
Than him or her or me
I was never focused on just one thing
My eyes got fixed when my mind got soft
It may looked like I'm concentrated on a very clear view
But I'm as good as asleep
I bet you didn't know
It takes a lot of it away if you do
So I had to break the window
It just had to be
Better that I break the window
Than him or her or me
So I had to break the window
It just had to be
Better that I break the window
Than him or her or me
Because the fact in fact
Whatevers in front of me is covering my view
So I can't see what I'm seeing in fact
I only see what I'm looking through
I had to break the window
It just had to be it was in my way
Better that I break the window
Then forget what I had to say
So again I've done the right thing
I was never worried about that
The answer's always been in clear view
But even when the window's clean
I still can't see for the fact
That when it's clean it's so clear
I cant tell what I'm looking through
So I had to break the window
It just had to be
Better that I break the window
Than him or her or me
I had to break the window
It just had to be it was in my way
Better that I break the window
Then forget what I had to say
I had to break the window
It was in my way
Better that I break a window
Then forget what I had to say
Or miss what I should see
Or breaking him or her or me
song performed by by Fiona Apple
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Now At Liberty
Little white love, your way you've taken;
Now I am left alone, alone.
Little white love, my heart's forsaken.
(Whom shall I get by telephone?)
Well do I know there's no returning;
Once you go out, it's done, it's done.
All of my days are gray with yearning.
(Nevertheless, a girl needs fun.)
Little white love, perplexed and weary,
Sadly your banner fluttered down.
Sullen the days, and dreary, dreary.
(Which of the boys is still in town?)
Radiant and sure, you came a-flying;
Puzzled, you left on lagging feet.
Slow in my breast, my heart is dying.
(Nevertheless, a girl must eat.)
Little white love, I hailed you gladly;
Now I must wave you out of sight.
Ah, but you used me badly, badly.
(Who'd like to take me out tonight?)
All of the blundering words I've spoken,
Little white love, forgive, forgive.
Once you went out, my heart fell, broken.
(Nevertheless, a girl must live.)
poem by Dorothy Parker
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We Tried To Grow
We tried to grow through the winter,
Our roots rotting under stinging frost,
Snow blanketing us in white death.
We tried to grow as the ice melted,
Drowning in cold but warming slush,
Blinded by the sun's reflection.
We tried to grow when the sun blazed,
Burning like a coal inside a fire,
Choking on our own black smoke.
We tried to grow as the leaves fell,
Smothered by sheets of reds and yellows,
Those fragile layers of false safety.
Now we grow old and forgotten,
Relics of seasons past and times lost,
Sideshows in window sills, dying.
poem by William Blake Beckett
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The Woman With Too Many Teeth
The woman with too many teeth was accused of 'smiling too much'
In the office, on the phone
Even when she was on her own [as seen by cctv! ]
The woman with too many teeth would always hesitate and was
Losing weight,
And some got a hunch, that she could not eat her lunch
The woman with too many teeth could barely talk
She also had a funny walk
Due in part to her heavy jaw
She kept her head to the floor
Or covered her mouth with her scarf
As if to muffle a laugh, in a serious place
At funerals and in meetings
So as to 'keep a straight face in disguise]
At weddings and parties she could let herself go
Though her teeth hurt, and she was called a flirt
She left, embarrassed, confused and always alone
Was this her fate?
When she slept, the wind whistled through her top plate
And she almost swallowed her tongue
At the end of her tether, and quite irate
At the 'smiling strangers' blocking up her front gate
She sent them packing,
from jehovahs witnesses.
To refugees from kuwait
And told herself it wasn't too late
To find a twist in the road
That could make her mouth straight
She needed some love and some real understanding
So she tripped on the stairs and had a crash landing
But nothing had shifted except a couple of teeth
And now she was GRINNING in sheer disbelief
She tried to walk out into oncoming traffic
Then to hang by her teeth, by a piece of elastic
But the elastic snapped
So she bunjee jumped
Gripping hard with her molars, that took the full brunt
They fell like white splinters.......
At last she could have ' a serious lunch! '
Somehow she knew there's always a 'happy ever after'
Though she she was toothless and sore,
With both legs in plaster
With a 'serious expression at last
SAYING, PLEASE, NO MORE LAUGHTER! !
T
poem by Yvette Smith
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My Lady Of Castle Grand
Gray is the palace where she dwells,
Grimly the poplars stand
There by the window where she sits,
My Lady of Castle Grand.
There does she bide the livelong day,
Grim as the poplars are,
Ever her gaze goes reaching out,
Steady, but vague and far.
Bright burn the fires in the castle hall,
Brightly the fire-dogs stand;
But cold is the body and cold the heart
Of my Lady of Castle Grand.
Blue are the veins in her lily-white hands,
Blue are the veins in her brow;
Thin is the line of her blue drawn lips,
Who would be haughty now?
Pale is the face at the window-pane,
Pale as the pearl on her breast,
'Roderick, love, wilt come again?
Fares he to east or west?'
The shepherd pipes to the shepherdess,
The bird to his mate in the tree,
And ever she sighs as she hears their song,
'Nobody sings for me.'
The scullery maids have swains enow
Who lead them the way of love,
But lonely and loveless their mistress sits
At her window up above.
Loveless and lonely she waits and waits,
The saddest in all the land;
Ah, cruel and lasting is love-blind pride,
My Lady of Castle Grand.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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The Alligator Bride
The clock of my days winds down.
The cat eats sparrows outside my window.
Once, she brought me a small rabbit
which we devoured together, under
the Empire Table
while the men shrieked
repossessing the gold umbrella.
Now the beard on my clock turns white.
My cat stares into dark corners
missing her gold umbrella.
She is in love
with the Alligator Bride.
Ah, the tiny fine white
teeth! The Bride, propped on her tail
in white lace
stares from the holes
of her eyes. Her stuck-open mouth
laughs at minister and people.
On bare new wood
fourteen tomatoes,
a dozen ears of corn,
six bottles of white wine,
a melon,
a cat,
broccoli
and the Alligator Bride.
The color of bubble gum,
the consistency of petroleum jelly,
wickedness oozes
from the palm of my left hand.
My cat licks it.
I watch the Alligator Bride.
Big houses like shabby boulders
hold themselves tight
in gelatin.
I am unable to daydream.
The sky is a gun aimed at me.
I pull the trigger.
The skull of my promises
leans in a black closet, gapes
with its good mouth
for a teat to suck.
A bird flies back and forth
in my house that is covered by gelatin
and the cat leaps at it
missing. Under the Empire Table
the Alligator Bride
lies in her bridal shroud.
My left hand
leaks on the Chinese carpet.
poem by Donald Hall
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Ladylove
There once was a lady by the name of Ladylove,
who was said to be a saint sent from above.
But no one knew just who she was;
a ghost indeed was she, was she.
She approached a swain one day, one sorrowful day;
stealing his heart as she ran away.
She left with a flutter in a moonlit still,
her beauty graces her for a splendid time.
She haste to a pond of midnight glow,
a lad soon followed as he watched her go.
She looked in his eyes with sadness there,
looking away as she's engulfed in light.
She step a foot in glistening water still,
meandering a swan not by will.
The boy he haste to grasp her hand,
letting his love guide as they shift to swans;
he a swan of black and she white,
they soar now into the ever moonlight.
The story now told of a love everlasting,
of two young swans, on moonlit casting.
poem by Adam M. Snow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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White America-Me...
I often feel like a black spot on new white sheets.
This is white America-me.
They say my music is not music but more a call to violence.
White America-me.
They tell me my people are free if this true why do the prisons look like an old southern plantation. White America-me.
Most of the schools where my people go are shut down. They say it's because of low test scores. I believe it's because they really want to keep us dumb. White America-me.
I often feel like a black spot on new white sheets.
White America-me.
Bimbo
You think youre special
And youre a standard guy
Im gonna tell you
Youre nothing but a standard guy
You are a standard... standard...
Its the bimbo
Standard bimbo man
They call me the white white white white white white
White white bimbo man
Oh, hey I want her
I want shoes
Oh, so my head hurts
But make fun of blues
Oh, that music
I got the blues
Cash in my pocket
Dont want to lose
I... i... I try so hard
Let me be smart
Look at myself in the window of a glass door
Look in my eyes
Look at myself in the window of a toy store
Wink at the size
Never ever gonna be (3x)
Staring at her until the end
Special lie, my only friend
Thats so hard for me to take
Silly to work around the thing
Bimbo, bimbo, oh its sad
It drives me mad this is bimbo man
Oh, oh, its sad b-b-b-b-b b-b-b-b-b b-b-b-b-bimbo
It drives me mad why bimbo man
Oh, oh, its sad why its the bimbo, standard bimbo
It drives me mad why its the bimbo man
Oh, oh, its sad why its the bimbo, standard bimbo
It drives me mad why its the bimbo man
Special, and silly wanna be
Standard, oh what a silly me
Youre really special, that you dont wanna be
Youre standard, firm set in your silly ways
Look at myself in the window of a drug door
Wink at the size
Look at myself in the window of a toy store
Look in my eyes
Never ever gonna be
I wear a white hat bimbo, bimbo, hes hip
White gloves I choose bimbo, bimbo man
I saw her dance bimbo, bimbo
Not for the blues hes the bimbo man
I... bimbo, bimbo, b-b-b-b-bimbo
Dont want to be hes the bimbo man
The standard guy bimbo, bimbo, b-b-b-b-bimbo
The standard guy hes the bimbo man
Standard guy
Look at myself in the window of a glass door
Wink out the size
Look at myself in the window of a toy store
Look in my eyes
Never ever gonna be
I hear hip music bimbo, bimbo, hes a bimbo
Aint got the blues bimbo, bimbo man
Fist in my pocket why its the bimbo, why its the bimbo
Dont want to lose bimbo, bimbo man
I... i... standard bimbo, why its the bimbo
Try so hard bimbo, bimbo man
Oh please, oh please, why its the bimbo, bimbo, bimbo
I wanna be smart... smart bimbo, bimbo man
song performed by by Yello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bimbo
You think youre special
And youre a standard guy
Im gonna tell you
Youre nothing but a standard guy
You are a standard... standard...
Its the bimbo
Standard bimbo man
They call me the white white white white white white
White white bimbo man
Oh, hey I want her
I want shoes
Oh, so my head hurts
But make fun of blues
Oh, that music
I got the blues
Cash in my pocket
Dont want to lose
I... i... I try so hard
Let me be smart
Look at myself in the window of a glass door
Look in my eyes
Look at myself in the window of a toy store
Wink at the size
Never ever gonna be (3x)
Staring at her until the end
Special lie, my only friend
Thats so hard for me to take
Silly to work around the thing
Bimbo, bimbo, oh its sad
It drives me mad this is bimbo man
Oh, oh, its sad b-b-b-b-b b-b-b-b-b b-b-b-b-bimbo
It drives me mad why bimbo man
Oh, oh, its sad why its the bimbo, standard bimbo
It drives me mad why its the bimbo man
Oh, oh, its sad why its the bimbo, standard bimbo
It drives me mad why its the bimbo man
Special, and silly wanna be
Standard, oh what a silly me
Youre really special, that you dont wanna be
Youre standard, firm set in your silly ways
Look at myself in the window of a drug door
Wink at the size
Look at myself in the window of a toy store
Look in my eyes
Never ever gonna be
I wear a white hat bimbo, bimbo, hes hip
White gloves I choose bimbo, bimbo man
I saw her dance bimbo, bimbo
Not for the blues hes the bimbo man
I... bimbo, bimbo, b-b-b-b-bimbo
Dont want to be hes the bimbo man
The standard guy bimbo, bimbo, b-b-b-b-bimbo
The standard guy hes the bimbo man
Standard guy
Look at myself in the window of a glass door
Wink out the size
Look at myself in the window of a toy store
Look in my eyes
Never ever gonna be
I hear hip music bimbo, bimbo, hes a bimbo
Aint got the blues bimbo, bimbo man
Fist in my pocket why its the bimbo, why its the bimbo
Dont want to lose bimbo, bimbo man
I... i... standard bimbo, why its the bimbo
Try so hard bimbo, bimbo man
Oh please, oh please, why its the bimbo, bimbo, bimbo
I wanna be smart... smart bimbo, bimbo man
song performed by by Yello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Jane and You and the Hollow Tree.
Jane waited for you
by the narrow road
that led to Linch farm
the water tower visible
against the afternoon sky
of pale blue and white
cold clouds
she was dressed
in a grey coat
and her dark hair
was pinned back
with grips
you noticed
blueness
about her lips
the cold taking toll
wasn't sure
if you would show
she said
the coldness
and such
I said I would
and I say
what I mean
you replied
once you were close to her
she took her hands
out of the coat pockets
and linked her arm
through yours
where shall we go?
she asked
you know it better
around here than I do
you choose
you said
let's go up
the dust track
to the hollow tree
on the way up
to the Downs
she said
ok
you said
and so you walked along
and up the dust track
side by side
and she talked
of the wintery trees
and what birds
there were still about
and how she liked
spring best with the coming
of flowers and birds nesting
and you listened
looking at her
as she spoke
watching her lips move
how when she spoke
her white teeth showed
and now and then
her tongue would show
and it reminded you
of that kiss she gave you
up by Diddling church
as you stood looking
at the grave stones
and she gazed at you
and then kissed
and her tongue
touched yours
and it was like heaven
as if someone
had opened up
your heart
and stuck
their tongue in there
and as you thought
about that kiss
she talked of some girl
of a cowman
who'd got pregnant
and how did that happen?
she asked
and you said nothing
but listened on
and then you reached
the hollow tree
and climbed inside
and sat down
looking out
of the hole
in the side
and it felt cosy
in there
like a small home
and she leaned
in against you
and there was silence
and you looked at her
at her eyes
and hair
and how her lips
were parted
and her white teeth
showed and her tongue
waiting to speak
and you wondered
about that kiss again
and whether
it would happen this time
there in the hollow tree
out of sight
of others
and she showed you
tucked between
her small breasts
a small locket
which used to be
her mother's.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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