Autobiographia
I had everything and luck: Rings of smoke
blown for me; sunlight safe inside the leaves
of cottonwoods; pure, simple harmonies
of church music, echoes of slave songs; scraps
of candy wrappers -- airborne. Everything.
Mother and father, brother, aunts, uncles;
chores and schoolwork and playtime. Everything.
I was given gloves against winter cold.
I was made to wear gloves when I gardened.
I was made to garden; taught to hold forks
in my left hand when cutting, in my right
when bringing food to my mouth. Everything.
I had clothes I was told not to wear outside;
a face you could clean up almost handsome;
I had friends to fight with and secrets, spread
all over the neighborhood; the best teachers,
white and colored. I'm not making this up.
I knew that I had everything. Still do.
poem by G.E. Patterson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Kid Gloves
A world of difference
A world so out of touch
Overwhelmed by everything
But wanting more so much
Call it blind frustration
Call it blind mans bluff
Call each other names
Your voices rude,
Your voices rough
Then you learn the lesson
That its cool to be so tough
Handle with kid gloves
Handle with kid gloves
Then you learn the lessons
Taught in school wont be enough
Put on your kid gloves
Put on your kid gloves
Then you learn the lesson
That its cool to be so tough
A world of indifference
Heads and hearts too full
Careless of the consequence
Of constant push and pull
Anger got bare knuckles
Anger play the fool
Anger wear a crown of thorns
Reverse the golden rule
Then you learn the lesson
That its tough to be so cool
Handle with kid gloves
Handle with kid gloves
Then you learn the weapons
And the ways of hard-knock school
Put on your kid gloves
Put on your kid gloves
Then you learn the lesson
That its tough to be so cool
song performed by by Rush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I think winter wear is communal. You get some gloves and a scarf from a lost-and-found box, wash them, wear them for a while until you lose them. Then somebody else does the same thing.
quote by Adrian Grenier
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Kingsport Town
The winter wind is blowin strong
My hands've got no gloves
I wish to myself that I could see
The gal I'm thinkin of
Oh do you remember me babe
I remember you quite well
You caused me to leave old kingsport town
With the high sheriff on my trail
High sheriff on my trail boys
High sheriff on my trail
All because I'd fallen for
A curly headed dark-eyed gal
Who's a-gonna stroke your coal-black hair
An sing to your coloured skin
Who's a-gonna kiss your memphis lips
When I'm not in the wings
When I'm not in the wings babe
When I'm not in the wings
Who's a-gonna kiss your memphis mouth
When I'm not in the wings
Who's a-gonna walk you side-by-side
And tell you everythings alright
Who's a-gonna sing to you all day long
And not just in the night
Who's a-gonna walk you side-by-side
Who's a-gonna be your man
Who's a-gonna look you straight in the eye
And hold your bad-luck hand
Hold your bad-luck hand babe
Hold your bad-luck hand
Who's a-gonna hold your hard-luck hand
And who's a-gonna be your man
The winter wind is blowin strong
My hands've got no gloves
I wish to myself that I could see
The gal I'm thinkin of
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Brother Sarah - Sway B-side
My brother sarah
Doesn't know what clothes to wear
It's a dilemma
To get the stuff to match your hair
But mother and father
Sister and brother
Say they just don't know
My brother sarah
Really wish you understood
Why he's got to show it
For it to be any damn good
But mother and father
Sister and brother
Say they just don't know
My brother lies awake at night
Wishing this world could just be right
But mother and father
Sister and brother
You and all the others
Say you just don't know
song performed by by Ocean Colour Scene
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mother Once Said...
My mother once said
'Don`t open your mouth before
Elders and those with white hairs'.
My mother also said
'Don`t speak unless asked'.
My mouth asked me once,
'What is my role in your life? '
I said, 'My mother has said nothing about it'.
I added, 'You swallow and eat'.
My mouth has been quiet since.
My friends said, 'Your mother is wise'.
My father said, 'She is my strength'.
I wondered how she could be so great!
Then was born my kid brother with a big mouth.
My mother said to my kid brother too
Not to do those old things
But his mouth spoke everything
Everything that I never dared.
And his mouth swallowed, ate and spoke.
Today my mother is no more
And my father is is weak and worn out.
I still remember my mother`s words.
While my kid brother speaks out his mind
My mouth refuses to speak out its regrets....
poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
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Clean-cut Kid
Everybodys asking why he couldnt adjust
Adjust to what, a dream that bust?
They took a clean-cut kid
And they made a killer out of him
Thats what they did
They said whats up is down, they said what isnt is
They put ideas in his head that he thought were his
They took a clean-cut kid
But they made a killer out him
Thats what they did
He was on the baseball team, he was in the marching band
When he was ten years old he had a watermelon stand
He was a clean-cut kid
And they made a killer out of him
Thats what they did
He went to church on sunday, he was a boy scout
For his friends he would turn his pockets inside out
He was a clean-cut kid
But they made a killer out him
Thats what they did
They said, listen boy, youre just a pup
They sent to a napalm health spa to shape up
They gave him dope to smoke, drinks and pills,
A jeep to drive, blood to spill
They said congratulations you got what it takes.
They sent him back into the rat-race without any brakes
They took a clean-cut kid
And they made a killer out him
Thats what they did
He bought the american dream but it put him in debt
Only game he could play was russian roulette
He drank coca-cola, he was eating wonder bread
He ate burger kings, he was well fed
He went to hollywood to see peter otoole
He stole a rolls royce and drove it in a swimming pool
They took a clean-cut kid
But they made a killer out of him
Thats what they did
He couldve sold insurance, owned a restaurant or a bar
He couldve been an accountant or a tennis star
He was wearing boxing gloves, he took a dive one day
Off the golden gate bridge into china bay
His mama walks the floor, his dadddy weeps and moans
They gotta sleep together in a home they dont own
They took a clean-cut kid
And made a killer out of him
Thats what they did
Everybodys asking why he didnt adjust
All he ever wanted was someone he could trust
They took his head and turned it inside out
He never did know what it was all about
He had a steady job, he joined the choir
He never did plan to walk the high wire
They took a clean-cut kid
And they made a killer out him
Thats what they did.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Rose Tree Of Winter
In the cold winds of Winter she stands thorny and bare
In Summer large beautiful red flowers she did wear
The Rose tree of Winter not a pretty sight
At a time of year with litle warmth in the sunlight,
When the birds in the sunlit gardens will nest and sing
She will wear her new leaves and rosebuds of the Spring
As a tree the rose tree does not grow very tall
Compared to most trees she does seem very small
But in her full bloom none as lovely as she
In her cloak of flowers she's a beautiful tree
But in Winter she stands there by the garden wall
Of the garden trees the most forlorn one of all
And though it may still be a few months from the Spring
The white backed magpie on the blackwood tree sing
But without her leaves and flowers prickly looking and bare
The rose tree looks drab in the cool morning air.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Glove Of The Live Lady.
Her glove! It was rare Ben who sung it,
That best of gloves of the lady dead!
Another's here, as one had flung it
In anger at her lover's head.
Was it but this that it was made for,
One of a pair perhaps he'd paid for,
To have it favored in this fashion?
But gloves are gloves, and passion's passion!
And he, it may be, liked her better
For her rich anger as she threw it:
'Twas worth a glove to so upset her
And know he had the power to do it,
So he might kiss the white hands after
Her passion turned to tears and laughter!
poem by Robert Crawford
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Favorite Song
What if everything you had
Was like a castle made of sand
Why don't you open up your hand
and hold on tight
What if everything was wrong
and no one knew your favorite song
there is no one left to sing along
with you tonight
Everything is alright
I will see you tonight
Everything you want
is in your hands
And I can't help you decide
The battles you fight inside
and what hurts you
you don't understand
and it feels like there is nothing right
and its all the same to you anyways
What if everything you had
Was like a castle made of sand
Why don't you open up your hand
and hold on tight
What if everything was wrong
and no one knew your favorite song
there is no one left to sing along
with you tonight
The better place you wished for
is just outside your front door
still it never seemed so far away
Summer gave no reward
Until this day was dreamed for
wait to feel the sunlight
on your face
and it feels like there is nothing right
and its all the same to you anyways
What if everything you had
Was like a castle made of sand
Why don't you open up your hand
and hold on tight
What if everything was wrong
and no one knew your favorite song
there is no one left to sing along
with you tonight
You never know what to say
So you run in your hideaway
I see the shadow falling in the summer sun
So you never know what to say
It doesn't matter anyway
You'll heal inside
You'll feel this time
And if everything you had
Was like a castle made of sand
Why don't you open up your heart
and hold on tight
And if everything was wrong
I would sing your favorite song
and you would have to sing along
with me tonight
sing along with me tonight [x2]
What if everything was wrong
and no one knew your favorite song
song performed by by Nine Days from So Happily Unsatisfied
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Octobrrr!
Dear friends, it's been getting colder,
We're further from the Sun...
I feel pain that's in each shoulder,
We all know that's no fun!
We're reaching for more clothes to wear
With thermal thickness, too,
So that we've got a chance to bear
The winds that go right through...
The weather changes day-by-day,
But darkness creeps each night,
We'll change the clocks along the way,
As if that makes things right...
With scarves and gloves, we'll battle on!
Face coughs and sneezes yet
They take so long before they're gone
And fill us with regret...
While some enthuse that Autumn's here,
Most dread how seasons change,
For many hold the Summer dear
And think that Autumn's strange...
But Winter's coming, ice and snow,
With Christmas once again...
Thus hope still lives, for this we know,
Each year since way back when...
Drive carefully and stay alert,
Look out for one and all,
Yes, do your best so none gets hurt,
No matter, great or small...
Octobrrr's just the solemn start,
First steps till each year ends,
So now's the time, be bold, take heart,
Fight on with faith, dear friends...
Denis Martindale, copyright, Octobrrr 2012.
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Kept Secrets
I never had a secret.
None.
Not really.
I might have had one...
In my youth.
But my face would always reveal,
Anything I wanted to conceal.
I remember trying to lie one time.
And both my father and grandfather,
Had these eyes that would penetrate.
And made knees knock,
If truth did not come out of our mouths.
'Please...
Strip me naked but don't look at me.
I don't know nuthin'...I wasn't there! '
And...
In those days,
If anyone was going to be punished...
For any secrets leaked.
OR suspectedly kept!
We all got the ironing cord.
And it wasn't plugged up to heat.
To iron clothes with either.
Oh no.
We were lined up by age!
My youngest Aunt Ginger,
Used to be conveniently absent.
Only to appear later from places unknown.
I hated those days!
So did my aunts, uncles and cousins too.
And when my grandmother aimed...
She didn't skip a butt!
I gave any secrets I had then up.
And...
Is there really a purpose for them?
Today...
It's difficult to say what's valued and treasured.
Or,
If someone tells you something not to tell anyone else...
Why do they tell you this?
And...
Where did they get what they tell you from in the first place?
Kept secrets and spoken lies are entertainment for some.
And done without question too professionally.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bible Verse
I asked the child why did she curse
Her answer was, she knew not a Bible verse
She never went to church or knew how to say a prayer
So all that she knew, was how to curse and swear,
I was told that her mother had taught her well
But never taught her about heaven or even hell
And all that she knew is from what she had read
While listening to the words that her mother had said.
I asked the child why did she lie
Her response to me, it is better than to cry
As things got bad and then they turned worse
That's all that she knew, and she knew not a Bible verse,
Her mother had told her the things not to do
But then they differed from other's points of view
And all the child knew was from what she had seen
As she watched her mother, which was unforeseen.
I asked the child why did she steal
Taking from others for a terrible ordeal
She answered me, as she placed the goods in her purse
'It is the way that I am', and I know not of a Bible verse
Someday soon I will probably smoke and drink
Spoke the child to me as she began to think
But then am I not the girl that my mother did raise
And every day to my mother, I give her praise.
I asked the child why did she fight
She then said to me, it's better than being polite
Her mother's honor again she had to defend
And fighting is all that she could comprehend
So the child then wiped the pain off of her face
As she slowly walked away in sadness and disgrace
The last thing she said to me as we did converse
She said, I truly wish that I knew a Bible verse.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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Dream Brother
brother, your darkness
closes over me like an eyelid
and I am invited into
the hole your absence
tears into our mother's heart
brother, brought to me in a dream
you are the boy & the truth
that never was
and I am enticed by the
secrets hidden behind your lips
dream brother, your mouth,
wrought onto mine, spills
the secrets of your nonexistence
your life unlived;
how before my time
our mother wept at your bedside
clutching the sheets
where your body left no indention
where your mouth made no noise
except in my dreams
and in my mouth
dream brother, left-handed like half two twins -
Do you mirror my movements?
brother, you are not the light at the end of the tunnel
you are the darkness that fills it
you were the one torn out as sacrifice
brother, you are the potential energy
the David in a marble prism,
the destruction still bright
in our mother's eyes -
how she dreamed of the promise you were!
all soft and not yet definite
brother, you were a sculpture half-finished
a child ripped away, premature
and between each hope
there lies sterility
between each dream
I lie awake.
(march 08)
poem by Ryan Blood
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Crying As An Art Form.
Mother made act of crying
An art form; she knew
Sense of tears on cheek
And leak from blue of eyes.
Father would have his way
Of bringing on the tears in
Her, making the blue eyes
Red, bruising the cheek of
Bone and flesh, making an
Art of bringing black and
Blue in such human skin.
You recall once the time
He slapped her cheek with
A back of hand for making
Remark in jest: you look like
A Yank with that camera held
So. You never could divine how
Love could have altered form
And made a mockery of care
And concern and deepest sense
Of being well and other’s need
Of being needed here and now.
You think that Father lost it if
He had it ever at all. Some how.
poem by Terry Collett
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Easter's Past
Sitting in Church
Listening to sermons
With white patent leather shoes
A fancy dress and little white gloves
With a new purse,
My brothers all dressed
In nice shirts and pants,
My mom dressed up like a movie star
With her beautiful dress and hat,
My step dad who never cared for church
He even dressed up for the day.
And in our pockets
Were chocolate eggs and jelly beans
We were told not to take to church
But we couldn’t help it.
I would peek at my brothers
Sneaking candy out of their pockets
And when mom wasn’t looking
I would sneak some out of my purse,
And slowly let the chocolate egg
Dissolve in my mouth
I couldn’t let her see me chewing
Not in church!
We would come home
Have an egg hunt
That we enjoyed so much
That we all would hide the eggs again
Ourselves
Then we had a nice big Easter dinner
Maybe even play monopoly
While eating more Easter candy.
I know the holiday was about Jesus
Being resurrected
I had spent many years
In classes learning these things
But somehow Easter
Just reminds me more of
Family togetherness and love
And visits from the Easter Bunny
And I don’t think Jesus would mind that at all.
poem by Connie Webb
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Don't Dread That Casket Bed
When i am dead,
I don't want to dread,
Seeing people cry for me
That is never ever going to be,
Dont wear black,
Cuz it'll lack,
The personality that i had,
that would be bad,
Don't wear white,
With a alot of might
because it looks like a wedding,
Not me laying in my forever bedding,
Wear brightest colors,
And be my Like my mother and brother,
Wear blue purple and green,
So bright they can be seen,
Talk about my life story,
Were i once had a life with no worries,
talk about my smile,
that shined for a mile,
So don't make me dread,
That cold casket bed.
poem by Becki Balding
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You Wear It So Well
All of those things
Yeah, that you got to give
Yeah, you wear it so well
Hey, you wear it so well
All of those stories
Honey, that i know you could tell
Yeah, you wear it so well
And your face hides it so we can't tell
That you knew we would wear it so well
You wear it so well
Yeah darling, you wear it so well
(you wear it so well)
Yeah baby, you wear it so well
(you wear it so well)
Yeah now baby, you wear it so well
(you wear it so well)
Hey now darling now, yeah, you wear it so well
(you wear it so well)
All of those things
That make poets sing
You wear it so well
Yeah, you hide it so well
And all of those pain
That you used to tell
You hide it so well
Can't tell from your face that you knew it so well
Hey, now that you have such a story to tell
Yeah, you got style and grace and you wear it so well
You wear it so well
And you got, you got such a story to tell
Yeah, yeah, yeah, you wear it so well
Grace and style equals you so well
Yeah, yeah, yeah, you wear it so well, well, yeah, so well
Yeah, you wear it, wear it, wear it now, wear it now, baby
Yeah, now you wear it so well
And you got such a story to tell
(ooohhh, ooohhh, ooohhh)
(ooohhh, you wear it so well)
(you wear it so well)
(you wear it so well)
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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At The Time When Mother Left For Ozamis
i remember now
it was at that time when mother packed her clothes
and left my father for good
back in the little village where mother
was raised by grandmother
as a naive girl
keeping things to herself.
she dwells in a house of silence.
it was at that time when father said
that he loves her very much
that losing her would mean his death
but mother was no longer in the house
where we grew.
and of course, mother did not really believe him.
she died ahead of him, and he got drunk everyday, and
he put her picture on top of his chest and he cried all night long
staring at her face, black and white, her hair her mouth.
he died a year after and he was buried just beside her pantheon.
i still wonder if mother would believe him.
the silence is overwhelming. no one sweeps the heaps of leaves
and no wind is strong enough to clean the mounds filled with thick grass.
come summer time, i see white daisies blooming, and a black butterfly
hovers to stop a while. I watch closely this new turn of events.
it is like poetry. Some metaphors. Symbols, and hints. Love's mouth
wanting to say all over again, what the heart has constantly hidden.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Fold It All Away
The fire, the heat, the hungry daze -
I will fold it all away.
Like clothes just meant for summer days
It’s winter now - cold here to stay
You made my heart soar and leap
And now my heart will go to sleep
Like clothes just meant for summer days
It’s winter now - cold here to stay
All desire in me is gone -
Another’s touch would just feel wrong
Like clothes just meant for summer days
It’s winter now - cold here to stay
Your smile’s engraved inside my head,
The view of you, touching foreheads
Like clothes just meant for summer days
It’s winter now - cold here to stay
A kiss that made my heart melt,
Feelings I had never felt
Like clothes just meant for summer days
It’s winter now - cold here to stay
I loved to hear your laughter most
But now the sound will be a ghost
Like clothes just meant for summer days
I will fold it all away
Such warmth and love can never stay
I will fold
It all
Away
Higher than I’ve ever been
The fall is here - let it begin
But I will rise again someday
The cold and winter cannot stay
For now that day seems far away
Like clothes just meant for summer days
And I will fold
Every piece
Away
It’s winter now
The cold
Will stay
Winter Is Calling
Winter is moving,
coming to claim
her space in open fields,
roof tops and traffic jams.
She comes winking,
proclaiming her time
and calling people to
feel her cold hands
and chilly warmth.
Now is time to open
the old wardrobes.
Take out the hats, gloves,
and other winter clothes.
Prepare them as winter
spreads her cape to
wherever she passes by
And smile as winter winks
at you with her generous hand.
poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen
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