En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Present at the Feast (Praia, Cape Verde,1983)

The family battalions massed nearby
Waving their napkins of white lace
At the heat, around the flies
That hung above the pig's glazed head
The salads, Cachupa and rice

The diverse plates, upon display
For clearly a sufficient time
To leave impression on the guests,
Removed again, we took our seats

The paterfamilias rose to his feet
Looked across to me (accusingly?) -
Young stranger, long of hair and pale
And began to take aside his girl

Mother took his elbow urgently
And whispered to him in commanding style
So every single guest could hear:
'Sta passionado cu Zaza! '
And even if not quite accurate
My social shame was now complete.

I slipped down to the humid street
While up above the empty stores
They displayed the little feast once more
To honour Zaza and womanhood
As African breezes fled the sea
To play in her dark curly hair

And but for a glimpse, at the post office
From the far side of the plateau square
That was all of her I would ever see
No other messenger would bring
Invitations from her family.

poem by Frank Bana
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A girl sat on a beach

A girl sat on a beach
An empty beach in solitude
Hundreds flocked around her
Alone resting on one arm
Legs to her side
The sun so high
Her frame so small
She left no shadow
She churned sand with a small red plastic spade
Glazed grains sifted
Sieved by a warm gentle breeze
Her family black hair, dry in the heat
Wild in the wind and salt
Her skin ever darkening
Pale blue pants ever lightening
She churned
With the rhythm of a dream
Slow time
Her time
A time where no one could touch her
So unlike the quiet moments at home.

poem by Chris Dawson
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The Games We Play

(hicks / clarke / nash)
Well I heard your mother say
What a pleasant boy youre going with
That I dont mean any harm
And I only want to play
Though I know shes just protecting you
Youre just a little girl
Well if your mother only knew the games we play
When I take you home with me
All the family get along with you
Sitting all through tea
Wondering what were gonna do
Leaving us alone
The temptations far too strong
If your family only knew the games we play
Are you sure were getting away with this
You cannot fool your mother or your father for long
Only time will tell
If they are right and we are wrong
(repeat)
They know the games we play
Theres no hiding things like this from them
We know were not the first
And well never be the last
Everybody gets hung up
We might have to pay
And everybody knows the games we play

song performed by by Hollies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Funny - Fat Cat

Once, there was a white cat
Who was really, really fat
So fat
She looked like a bat
Who has eaten a huge rat.

The cat was walking in the street
Following a beat, with her feet
Tic, tac, tic, tac
Tictactictactictac
Looking for anything to eat
Milk, fish, tuna, meat...

But what a pity
The street was empty
So empty
Not even a birdie
To make her get nasty.

The cat kept walking in the street
Following a beat, with her feet
Tic, tac, tic, tac
Tic, tac, tic, tac
Looking for somewhere to sleep
Bed'n'sheets? Get real! Just a seat...

But she didn't find any, what a shame
Because she was really lame
So lame
She had forgotten her own name
And from where she originally came.

So she kept walking in the street
Feeling the heat, and pain in her feet
Tic, tac, tic, tac
Tic, tac
Looking for someone to blame
Same situation, same game...

Then, the white cat
Saw a tiny red hat
One hat
She ran, jumped and sat
In it, what a lucky cat!

But since she was really fat
She got stuck in the hat
So stuck
She looked like a rat
In a cheese trap.

A dog came walking in the street
Following a beat, with his feet
Tic, tac, tictac
Tic, tac, tictac
He saw something red
So he stopped near the cat's head:

'Haha! Cat, you pay the fees
For acting so bad with your peers! '
'Help, please'
'Call me bad boy, I love to tease
I'm getting outta here, say cheers! '

Then a bird came flying in the street
With his wings, following a beat
Tictactictactictac
Tictactictactictac
He saw something red
So he stopped above the cat's head:

'Oh, poor white cat
Are you trapped in this hat? '
'Damn I am! '
'Let me help you, sad little cat
Here, you're out, care for a chat? '

Rumors I heard
Say the cat ate the bird.

poem by by unknown author
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Games We Play

The Hollies
The Games We Play
(Allan Clarke/Tony Hicks/Graham Nash)
Track 12 (final) on album 'Evolution' june 1967
Well, I heard your mother say
what a pleasant boy you're going with.
That I don't mean any harm
and I only want to play.
Though I know she's just protecting you,
you're just a little girl.
Well, if your mother only knew the games we play.
When I take you home with me,
all the family get along with you.
Sitting all through tea,
wondering what we're gonna do.
Leaving us alone
the temptation's far too strong.
If your family only knew the games we play.
Are you sure we're getting away with this?
You cannot fool your mother or your father for long.
Only time will tell
if they are right and we are wrong.
{interlude}
Are you sure we're getting away with this?
You cannot fool your mother or your father for long.
Only time will tell
if they are right and we are wrong.
{mini interlude}
They know the games we play
there's no hiding things like this from them.
We know we're not the first
and we'll never be the last.
Everybody gets hung up,
we might have to pay,
and everybody knows the games we play.

song performed by by Hollies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Day Jane Fainted

Jane fainted in the town
by the coach
on Saturday morning
and her mother

and other women
were around her
and you stood
a little way away

wondering what
had happened to her
I think it must be
that time of the month

you heard one woman say
maybe
her mother said
but she's not usually

like this
she added
will she be all right?
you asked

bending down
next to one
of the women
who had gathered

her mother looked at you
and said
yes it happens
at certain times

of the month
oh right
you said
none the wiser

gazing at Jane
at her dark hair
her eyes closed
her features

white and sweaty
best give her some air
her mother said
and you all stood up

and her mother
fanned her
with her hat
then after a minute or so

Jane opened her eyes
and said
what happened?
I went all funny

and everything went white
you fainted
her mother said
waving the hat

in front of Jane's face
I want to get up
Jane said
and so you

and her mother
helped her
to her feet
and she leaned

against the wall
of the bank
and looked around
she'll be all right now

a woman said
it happens
another said
after a few minutes

they went off
to the shops
leaving you
and your mother

and Jane
and her mother
standing by the coach
I'll be all right now

Jane said
ok
her mother said
and you all walked

along the street
to the shops
Jane walking behind
with you

her hand stealthily
reaching down
for yours and giving it
a little squeeze

then releasing it again
looking up at the sky
which had become dark
threatening rain.

poem by Terry Collett
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441

THEY call it family

not one less
of this family that must stick together and always save
one another, be it
whatever, a financial distress
emotional stress, societal imbalance,
technological displacements
the family shall be first
even in crime
passion, the family is one
in all conspiracies
not one less, each must be saved from shame
from destruction

i am tired of this,
i am getting out, i am now a stranger, alone
against this family, i speak my mind, i blow the whistle
now, kill me

i am a corpse, i have long been dead in the dark chambers
of this family
the secrets too deadly,

kill me now, i dare, only if you can....

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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October the Post Office Cat

Some thought she was a stray
That had come for scraps along the way
That might be left from the lunch
Of the post office staff; a kindly bunch.
But others knew her for what she was,
October the Post Office Cat.

She had a duty like any employee
To be on time and serve the public daily
And as any other as all know,
Had an official position just so.
October the Post Office Cat.

As soon as the walks were swept
And the doors were opened for the daily visits,
She found her space upon the walk
A bit removed so that none would balk
As they came to do their task or mail whatever.
October the Post Office Cat.

She often times was given the duty
Of minding some child whose custodian
Had business to attend
In dealing with the letters or packages within,
So she laid there carefully in the sun
Till end of day when her work was done.
October the Post Office Cat.

She was known by all who came along that way
Parking carefully throughout the day
Making sure that she was not disturbed
As she, her duties did perform.
Watching and listening to the sounds of pleasure
That only can be bestowed on one to treasure.
Yet adults knew not how to measure.
October the Post Office Cat.

On the post across the way
A yellow sign was placed on display
By the lady who ran the insurance office
Who wanted to be sure that others notice
That this was the path taken each day
As the cat came to begin her official stay.
October the Post Office Cat.

There came a time when she did not appear
And it was certainly a time to fear
That something had befallen this special one
Who worked so hard to please everyone
And the sign was removed so that all would know
That she wouldn't be there anymore.
October the Post Office Cat.

Then mysteriously the sign reappeared
On the post for all to read
Which proclaimed that this was the crossing
Reserved for the cat that all were missing.
And it's said that she comes each day
Although never seen by adults on their way
But the children know that she is there.
October the Post Office Cat.

poem by Sidi J. Mahtrow
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A Question of Family -Values...

the child is confused
for when she tells the truth
about this
family's mess
she is warned
not to expose the
dirty linens
she reasons out
what is wrong with
the truth
is it not that the truth
sets us free
as mother once told
her?
papa says not all
truths must be
preached
family secrets for
instance
what a shame!
but it is a shame
then why did this
family do it?
shut up
the father shouts
at the little girl
and slaps her
small face with
his huge hands

the very reason
why you have seen
this little girl
on the street
crying

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Family Gatherings

Family Gatherings - They Bring Happiness And
Cheer.. Moments Of Precious Memorys To Hold
Within And Remember The Following Year.

Family Gatherings - Are For Those Who Live At
A Distance...To Bring That Closeiness, And
Warmth Contentment.
Family Gatherings - Have Many Smiling Faces.

Playful Children Dancing All Around... As If
An Outside Play Ground. Family Gatherings -
Brings Forth That Social Communication.
Up Dateing To Present Life Situations.

Family Gatherings - Give Us A Chance To Spend
Quality Time... Knowing One Another As Family,
For Those Who Have Forgotten In Time.

Family Gatherings - For Those Precious Moments
Being Shared - Makeing Beautiful Memorys Of
Reminessing Being Shared.

Family Gatherings... Puts Forth That Smile And
Song In Heart... Bring Us Together, Not So Far
Apart.
Family Gatherings...

poem by Laura Eggebrecht
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THEY call it family

not one less
of this family that must stick together and always save
one another, be it
whatever, a financial distress
emotional stress, societal imbalance,
technological displacements
the family shall be first
even in crime
passion, the family is one
in all conspiracies
not one less, each must be saved from shame
from destruction

i am tired of this,
i am getting out, i am now a stranger, alone
against this family, i speak my mind, i blow the whistle
now, kill me

i am a corpse, i have long been dead in the dark chambers
of this family
the secrets too deadly,

kill me now, i dare, only if you can....

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Little Girl With Curly Hair

there is this little girls with black curly hair
flat nose, thin eyelashes, wavy goatish eyelids,
sitting on a bamboo pole
(the common furniture there)
with bare hands and bare feet
staring at me,
for i am new here and i have a big tummy
and i am white skinned, and i have candied
inside my pockets, she knows that soon
i will throw all these candies in the air
for all the other children

but there is something strange about this
little brown girl with curly hair sitting all alone
on that bamboo chair

her father and mother were killed in the last rebellion.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Make Me Beautiful

Girl, I need my hair 'did'
I'll be over at 5
You are late
you kow I needed you
to put this Lace Front in
Did you bring glue and scissors
and Don't be messing up my hair
I spent alot of money
to make me Beautiful

Girl, I need my hair twisted
you know like Dreds
I need it done now,
how long do you think it will be
I don't have all day
and I'm hungry too
Girl,
let me go get some Chinese food
while you working on my hair.

Girl, I need you to come with me
to the hair store
How many wigs you gonna try on,
I want a long pony tail
down my back, with no curls
and I need some gel,
some hair pins too.
I put my perm in so hook me up
you hear!

Girl, its me, what you doing
I need to borrow a wig for tonight
I got a date and I 'need' to look good
I want my Do to look beautiful like
yours,
But Tonight,
Make Me Beautiful, like Beyonce

My nails, my nails
got to have them done too
let me see the colors
designs you have

I'm planning on looking good like her tonight
got me one of those push up bras
and that girdle that, make you 3 sizes smaller
I am going out tonight,
I'm gonna find me a man
and I just want you to,
Make Me Beautiful,
Girl, it's gonna be on! .

(Written By LadyAdrienne)

poem by Adrienne Clark Strachn
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Jealousy

She wore braids in her hair
every single day.
Not because she wanted to.
It was her mother's way.

She braided them so tightly.
She thought her head would break.
Sometimes just the thought of them
would make her poor head ache.

'Why can't I have my hair
flowing down my back?
Her mother's frown would let her know
to try some other tact..

'Mother can we cut it
just above my shoulder? '
the answer that was given was
'Not until you're older.'

And so she wore her hair like this.
She never wore it down.
When at night she unbraided it
she looked just like a clown.

She knew she would cut it
the very next day
right in front of her mother
to see what she would say.

Her mother watched and sat down
and had a cup of tea.
Her mother simply said
'Now you're more beautiful than me.'

poem by Edwina Reizer
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Famliy

I have one and you have one.
Even if you don't like it and I don't like it
They are like you and like me but never the same

They are different and some times they understand
But most of the time they don't
and they leave you in the dark
thinking just thinking

Then their is just one Family member that understand
And they save you and show you back to the light
And help you stand on your own feet again
and hold you up and point you the way to go

Family, Family, Family
No one ever likes their family all the time
But no one hates their family all the time either.

poem by Dawn Gothic
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Stranger On A Quiet Street

When all the thrills have been forgotten
The chill of night can call them home
And all the dreams that you left stranded
Will slowly start to come along
I felt it as she slipped away, slipped away
I didnt have the words to say
When I saw the stranger
A stranger on a quiet street
Stranger on a quiet street
You can go straight as an arrow
You can go straight as you dare
Walkin the old straight and narrow
Dont always get you there
The sun was shining when I saw it all
She was moving to a different beat
When I met a stranger
A stranger on a quiet street
Stranger on a quiet street
It came to me out of the blue, out of the blue
There came the moment that I really knew
When I met a stranger
A stranger on a quiet street
Stranger on a quiet street
Stranger on a quiet street
Stranger on a quiet street
Stranger on a quiet street
Stranger on a quiet street
Stranger on a quiet street, on a quiet street
Stranger on a quiet street
Stranger on a quiet street
Stranger on a quiet street

song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Going Grey

I woke up late this morning
And looked into the mirror
But the woman looking back at me
Had a grey streak in her hair

Where did this grey streak come from?
It wasn’t there last night
How did it get into my hair?
My god I looked a sight

I washed and I washed my hair 3 times
And washed my hair some more
But the grey it would not come out
And I was getting stressed for sure

I grabbed the phone to ring my friend
And said get your arse round here
I have a big problem that you need to fix
And bring all your hairdressing gear

Half an hour seemed like a life time
Before my friend was here
She said what’s all the fuss about
I sobbed and wept oh dear

I removed the towel from round my head
Well I didn’t want anyone to see
Look I’ve got greyness in my hair
And I’m only thirty three

She sat me down to have a look
And said don’t worry dear
We can soon cover all that up
With hair dye, so don’t fear

She put this dye upon my head
And then made me a brew
He had to wait for ages
Until the colour did come threw

So now I feel much better
And don’t need to get irate
I don’t have any grey streaks now
And my hair looks really great

poem by Lynn Cowman
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Erotic Hair

when my hair
gets long enough
after a month
uncut by
my gay barber
they become
so curly
like my pubic
hair

and women
and even gays
love all the curls
of my hair

erotic hair
and i am wearing it
as a crown

understand
i am coping up
with mid-crisis
and i like to
say

i got hair
and they are too curly
like my
(messy) sex life

listen, my life
begins at 69.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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0012 The House of Metaphor

After you’ve negotiated that artfully-conceived
sharp elbow bend in the long, grand drive
through the fields of its estate,
and it hoves into view,
you always gasp – this palace
- no, more like a temple with living quarters –
set deep in the countryside, yet as sure
as one in Athens or in Rome;
yet that too is artfully contrived -
the slight mound it’s built on,
the cunning proportion that magnifies,
disguises, with its public face
the aptness of a family home;
its public rooms so grand, just echoing enough
to magnify a public speech; its family rooms
smallish, cosy; love and friendliness
live here. It says to the world,
stability; tradition re-affirmed; yet
this is our familiar family home.

It has its rooms, as rooms should be,
devoted to each family pursuit:
here’s the grand library
but here, with books so evidently, lovingly well read;
you almost missed the little girl, her hair and knees
curled round a book, deep in that leather green armchair;
the study, where your breathing seems to change,
there’s such a still and living silence here;
the nursery that emanates a lifetime’s care;
the children’s bedrooms set around it,
through which you ran and laughed and ran again; the window seats
from which you looked so wistfully
as childhood’s assurance faded into teenage questioning;
a house to leave,
a house to come back to;

a metaphor
as living, haunting, as the poetry it is.

poem by Michael Shepherd
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Bananas & Cream

(kinky friedman)
Well, a long time ago in old tokyo
By the softly flowing stream
I left her there with the stars in her hair
On the other side of a dream.
Well, I traveled through with a heart full of blue
Never quite making my way
Till I come upon a strawberry blonde
Living in pittsburgh, p.a.
Ah, bananas and rice they used to be nice
On the other side of a dream.
Oh, bananas and rice they used to be nice
But now its bananas an cream.
I stood hypnotized, I stared in her eyes,
She smiled and I suddenly knew
If I made her my bride then the other side
0f my dream would finally come true.
Ah, bananas and rice they used to be nice
On the other side of a dream.
Oh, oh, bananas and rice they used to be nice
But now its bananas and cream.
Well, a long time ago in old tokyo
By the softly flowing stream
I left her there with the stars in her hair
On the other side of a dream.
Ah, bananas and rice they used to be nice
On the other side of a dream.
Oh, bananas and rice they used to be nice
But now its bananas and cream.
Bananas and rice used to be nice
On the other side of a dream.
Oh, oh, bananas and rice they used to be nice
But now its bananas and cream.
Bananas and rice used to be nice
On the other side of a dream.
Bananas and rice ...

song performed by by Kinky Friedman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bananas And Cream

(Kinky Friedman)
Well, a long time ago in old Tokyo
By the softly flowing stream
I left her there with the stars in her hair
On the other side of a dream.
Well, I traveled through with a heart full of blue
Never quite making my way
Till I come upon a strawberry blonde
Living in Pittsburgh, P.A.
Ah, bananas and rice they used to be nice
On the other side of a dream.
Oh, bananas and rice they used to be nice
But now it's bananas an cream.
I stood hypnotized, I stared in her eyes,
She smiled and I suddenly knew
If I made her my bride then the other side
0f my dream would finally come true.
Ah, bananas and rice they used to be nice
On the other side of a dream.
Oh, oh, bananas and rice they used to be nice
But now it's bananas and cream.
Well, a long time ago in old Tokyo
By the softly flowing stream
I left her there with the stars in her hair
On the other side of a dream.
Ah, bananas and rice they used to be nice
On the other side of a dream.
Oh, bananas and rice they used to be nice
But now it's bananas and cream.
Bananas and rice used to be nice
On the other side of a dream.
Oh, oh, bananas and rice they used to be nice
But now it's bananas and cream.
Bananas and rice used to be nice
On the other side of a dream.
Bananas and rice ...

song performed by by Kinky Friedman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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