En.Citatepedia^®.ro

The Terminator

“I too am an immigrant’ he stated
when I came to Ameri ka
I had nothing “
He paused and sucked in air
adjusted the priceless tie at his bobbling apple
recommenced in his broken English
in the splendorous works
of a German Argonaut camera
“I want to forge a future in Kaleefornia”
he said with his square metal jaw
flexing at its hinge
and in that moment he was from Austria
standing on the frozen apron of a platform
where broken humans filed from trains
below him
with crossed arms holding shopping bags
or condemned children
and he swatted at them mentally
with a horse switch at his thigh
But the ones he addressed now
were not doomed peasants
or whitehaired bespectled rabbis
they were the trustees
the base of a ruthless corp
which should have been garbed
in black shirts and berets
and polished black jump boots
instead they wore Armani tailored suits
and sequined gowns and diamond tiaras
Prada shoes, sipped mixed drinks
and the waiter who hurried among them
had little time to listen or for that matter
understand
“ Ve have to gard owe borders” said the terminator
and I thought
“Obviously”

poem by George Murdock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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We are the future

We are the future
with our spikes and chains,
our baggy pants,
And unused brains

We are the future
With our belly shirts,
Hooker boots,
In mini skirts

We are the future
with our torn up jeans,
our rude t-shirts,
Wearing diamond rings

We are the future
With our high dollar clothes,
our rap music,
Pink polished toes

We are the future
And our parents hope and pray
That we'll all grow out
Of this someday

poem by Kansas Johnson
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Four little giraffes

Four little giraffes
Stare at a broken hinge
A broken hinge in the door

They sat and pondered
How were they going to fix that hinge?
That broken hinge which was in the door

They were no bob the builder
But surely they could fix it just as well

They hammered and they wrenched
All day and all night long

And with hooves wiping sweat off from brows
And purple tongues slurping up some water by the gallon
Soon that broken hinge was no longer a broken hinge

Yes indeed
They surely weren’t bob the builder
But they sure were one thing
Great hooves for feet, purple tongued hard workers

poem by Storm Pedersen
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The American

Here comes the shake
The speed-decade wake
I see you wake
Shake
Fit on those overalls
What do you know about this world anyway
I see a man
With an airfield plan
I caught a boy fall out of the sky
What do you know about this world anyway
Ameri-ameri-ameri-ameri-amer-american
In collective fame
Ameri-ameri-ameri-ameri-amer-american
Nassau club day
Ameri-ameri-ameri-ameri-amer-american
Across a curved earth
In collective fame
Ameri-ameri-ameri-ameri-amer-american
The eventful work-outs
Nassau club days
Here comes the flag
Im walking in the black
Every time you tough this place
It feels like sin
Every time the handshake starts
The face draws thin
What do you know about this world anyway
Here comes the son
The american son
In here the son shines so bright
Eyes blind
What do you know about this world anyway
Ameri-ameri-ameri-ameri-amer-american
The eventful workouts
Nassau club days
Here comes the flag
Hand-shake
This world.....
Lyrics : j kerr music : simple minds (c) emi publishing ltd reproduced without permission

song performed by by Simple Minds
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poem

This poem is not addressed to you.
You may come into it briefly,
But no one will find you here, no one.
You will have changed before the poem will.

Even while you sit there, unmovable,
You have begun to vanish. And it does not matter.
The poem will go on without you.
It has the spurious glamor of certain voids.

It is not sad, really, only empty.
Once perhaps it was sad, no one knows why.
It prefers to remember nothing.
Nostalgias were peeled from it long ago.

Your type of beauty has no place here.
Night is the sky over this poem.
It is too black for stars.
And do not look for any illumination.

You neither can nor should understand what it means.
Listen, it comes with out guitar,
Neither in rags nor any purple fashion.
And there is nothing in it to comfort you.

Close your eyes, yawn. It will be over soon.
You will forge the poem, but not before
It has forgotten you. And it does not matter.
It has been most beautiful in its erasures.

O bleached mirrors! Oceans of the drowned!
Nor is one silence equal to another.
And it does not matter what you think.
This poem is not addressed to you.

poem by Donald Justice
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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4. Footwear for Spiders

A spider went shopping
To buy some new shoes
He tried on so many
But just couldn’t choose

He first tried four pairs
Each laced polished black
Then eight yellow flip flops
But all were to slack

Having searched every rack
He found some brown boots
Which he tried on at once
But they looked like tree roots

So he settled for clogs
Making eight feet look wider
Because no one sells shoes
For a smart trendy spider

poem by David Threadgold (2008)
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Black Suits Comin'

Intro:
(Come Come on)
(Come on Come Come on M-I-B)
(The Black Suits Comin)
(The Black Suits Comin)
I'm Comin... I'm Comin... I'm Comin... I'm Comin
I am the man in black I'm back
Breaking the back of the random attackers
So can the flak
Yo Im dangerous
I've been trained to bust
When a stranger fuss try to endanger us
Praise me y'all
Dont nothing faze me y'all
When they see me their gaze be all crazy y'all
They say I'm a myth
Trust me if somebody riff
Out of the depth of your imagination appears Will Smith
Black suit, the black shades, the black shoes
black tie with the black attitude
New style black Ray-Bans
I'm stunning man
New hotness pitch black six hundred man
Don't you understand?
What you thought I wouldn't come again?
Leave you hanging without bringing you the fun again?
Tangling with the alien scum again
Monumental it's the black suits running in
Chorus 1:
(Nod Ya Head! The Black Suits Comin')
Let me see you (Nod Ya Head! The Black Suits Comin')
Like this, let me see you (Nod Ya Head! The Black Suits Comin')
Like this, let me see you bop your head, nod your head, come on!
(Nod Ya Head! The Black Suits Comin')
Let me see you (Nod Ya Head! The Black Suits Comin')
Like this, let me see you (Nod Ya Head!The Black Suits Comin')
Like this (Nod Ya Head!)
Check it
Yo it's this chick right
Serlena, making me sick right
Earth is worthless to her she be tripping like
Threatening me and my mens
Trying to get the light
Thinking she's superwoman
But black kryptonite finishing whatever you start son
The best looking crime fighter since myself in part one
Better act right and play nice and sing along
'Cause K is back and he hype
What? Bring it on!
Wanna brawl with me? Trying to brawl with me?
Unh Unh What What
Yo... what what... then... lemme... see you just...
Come on... just come on and
Chorus 2:
(Nod Ya Head! The Black Suits Comin')
Like this, let me see you (Nod Ya Head! The Black Suits Comin')
Let me see you (Nod Ya Head! The Black Suits Comin')
Like this, let me see you(Nod Ya Head! M-I-B)
Let me see you (Nod Ya Head! The Black Suits Comin')
Let me see you (Nod Ya Head!)
Come on! Come on! Let me see you (Nod Ya Head! The Black Suits Comin')
Like this, let me see you (Nod Ya Head!)
Check it, Check it
Yo, case closed
Erase my foes
Chased away by the black suits, shades, and clothes
We above the law
Feds can't touch me y'all
Highly ranked black blank I.D. card
So disregard what you think you saw
Put that phone down now
Who you think you calling huh?
One little flash then good night there
Just open your eyes honey look right there
Thank you mission completed
I mean it we won't be defeated
You seen it we did it even with weapons depleted
Galaxy defenders don't act like you don't remember
Taking contenders and proving they only pretenders
Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls
The Men In Black is back to protect the world
When the enemy is near the elite is hear
So have no fear just let me see you
Chorus 3:
(Nod Ya Head! the Black Suits Comin')
Come on! (Nod Ya Head! the Black Suits Comin')
Like this, let me see you (Nod Ya Head! the Black Suits Comin')
Like this, let me see you (Nod Ya Head! M-I-B)
(Nod Ya Head! M-I-B) Woo!
(Nod Ya Head! The Black Suits Comin') Unh!
(Nod Ya Head! M-I-B)
Yo, yo (Nod Ya Head!)
Yo, Yo
If you want to rock just say (Ooo-oh!)
Tell me if you want to rock just say (Ooo-oh!)
If you want to rock just say (Ooo-oh!)
Come on if you want to rock jusy say (Ooo-oh!)
Yo if you want to rock just say (Ooo-oh!)
Tell me if you want to rock just say (Ooo-oh!)
If you want to nod just say (Ooo-oh!)
Tell me if you want to rock just say (Ooo-oh!)
Ha!

song performed by by Will Smith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Band Wore Blue Shirts

I don't know why they come here
I'm only glad they do
They're gonna pay the bills for me and you
People out for an evening
They have a real good time
But when i play i feel just like i'm miming
I made a stand for the music
To turn the page with ease
I got the smile that says i'm here to please
Me and the bass guitarist
Have even shined our shoes
The drummer's shoes are dirty to confuse
I guess someday my kids will ask me 'bout the old days
I guess that i'll tell them that there ain't much to tell
The waiters wore black dinner jackets and all that kind of thing
And the band wore blue shirts
And the music played on
Then at the end of the evening
They throw the suckers out
Don't get me wrong, i got no beef about it
I get my rates from the union
I get my shirts real cheap
I get my money
Get home
Get some sleep
I guess someday my kids will ask me 'bout the old days
I guess that i'll tell them that there ain't much to tell
The waiters wore black dinner jackets and all that kind of thing
And the band wore blue shirts
And the music played on

song performed by by Joe Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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black RESPECT

Black shoes,
black suits,
black sandals
black you,
black specs,
black life,
black faces,
black casket dropped deep the dark grave,
Red ribbons,
red lights,
red flowers,
red wine.
Hearse sirens
wailing women,
Black speeches,
Blackened praises, all in all they call it the last respect

poem by Joub kahuria
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december in Paris

December Paris

Winter Paris pavement cafés vacant chairs and poor sparrows look for
baguette crumbs. Artists had gone to their loft conversions, in bed with
their models and plates of goose liver pate, waiting for a better time.
I came across a posh bistro people inside wore silk suits, doors locked;
invitation only. A famous philosopher came out, said something deep
about peace- in broken English- then asked where the camera was.
When he saw I wasn’t a journalist he said: Merde, and walked back in.
At the bookshop Shakespeare, academic tourists had assembled they
looked through books of famous writers, thought of saying that two of
my poetry collections were there, but they looked so educated, wore
capes of superiority and poetry workshop shoes I lost my nerve. Rain,
found a bistro at a side street, had coffee with an Armagnac, thought
of the days when Ernest Hemingway scribbled away here, other writers
too, when Paris was not so haughtily conscious of her artistic status.

poem by Oskar Hansen
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Passing Trains In Winter Rain

Adrift within a dismal night,
While trudging down deserted track,
Beyond the bend, a peering light,
Illumed alone through vacant black.
Such are the tricks that fate will feign,
With passing trains in winter rain.

The darkling sky, sighed, dripping dew,
Beguiling to the trek anew.
In diamond dusk the demons came,
There was no dread, there was no claim,
But distant thoughts will entertain
On passing trains in winter rain.

Through shadow's fog a form appeared,
Which slowed its pace as though it feared,
A lonesome, meek and wistful thing,
A fallen bird with broken wing.
Such are the shapes and weary strain
Of passing trains in winter rain.

We paused a moment, side by side,
And in each face a question lay.
The answer which our eyes replied
Was she and I had separate way,
We had our courses to maintain
Like passing trains in winter rain.

I often harken, reaching back,
To hear the formless twisted track
Muse "Few have loved though all have toyed
Inside this vast and vacant void -
The what and why? At heart, mundane! "
We're passing trains in winter rain...

poem by Terry O'Leary
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Unchained

Undying nightfall, a king with no crown
Dethroned, imprisoned in chains
Duel the black horse, the swordsmen must kneel
Condemned to serve within the shadows
Putem next to their king
Out of the fire and into the night
A handful of brave men appeared
Crimson thunder running through their veins
A bond that will last forever
Nothings stronger than ...
Brothers in arms are fighting tonight
The forces of steel meet again
Born in the fire, they look to the sky
Power of metal unchained
Time has come, break out of these chains
Fight! proud for your kingdom
Behind the defenders the king marches on
By divine intervention
They are fighting with ...
Brothers in arms are fighting tonight
The forces of steel live again
Born in the fire, they look to the sky
The power of metal unchained
Past many nights they fought on
And by the moonlight the battle was won
But still the black horse is running
Knowing were the power will lead
Brothers in arms are fighting tonight
The forces of steel live again
Born in the fire, they look to the sky
The power of metal unchained

song performed by by Hammerfall
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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12. Moonlight River

Black horse, strolling alone, to the river
He lowers his neck and drinks the water
Black clouds, shading the rays from the sky

White horse, treading alone, to the river
She lowers her neck and drinks the water
Black clouds, fusing the shadow into the night

Gradually the clouds disperse, and the moon
Shines warmly on the black horse
It lifts up its head and looks around
The white horse has disappeared.

(Aug 23,2004)

poem by Eugene Issaus
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Black-eyed

I was never faithful
And I was never one to trust
Bordeline and skitzo
And guaranteed to cause a fuss
I was never loyal
Except to my own pleasure zone
Im forever black-eyed
A product of a broken home
I was never faithful
And I was never one to trust
Bordeline by polar
Forever biting your nuts
I was never grateful
Thats why I spent my days alone
Im forever black-eyed
A product of a broken home
Broken home
Black-eyed, black-eyed
Black-eyed, black-eyed
Black-eyed, black-eyed
Black-eyed, black-eyed
I was never faithful
And I was never one to trust
Bordeline and skitzo
And guaranteed to cause a fuss
I was never loyal
Except to my own pleasure zone
Im forever black-eyed
A product of a broken home
Broken home
Black-eyed, black-eyed
Black-eyed, black-eyed
Black-eyed, black-eyed
Black-eyed, black-eyed
Broken home
Black-eyed
Broken home
Black-eyed
Broken home
Black-eyed
Broken home
Black-eyed

song performed by by Placebo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Boots

I found a pair of boots upon the street
So I took them home to wear on my feet
I washed them I cleaned them and I aired them out
So I could put them all later when I would walk about.
I put my new boots on, and I walked down the road
They seemed so very sturdy to carry my heavy load
Then they took me places where I have never been
I could tell that these boots were very well broken in.
They felt so very soft and comfortable upon my feet
How excited I was for my new boots others would see.
And when I did my walk many persons just stared
As they looked at my new boots but I really never cared.
Maybe they too just wanted boots just like mine
But this one thing I knew they were hard for me to find.
I had so much fun with my brand new pair of boots
We walked everywhere they placed me in a happy mood
And the longer that I walked still no pain did I feel
I was excited and content my life became so surreal.
So it started to get late so I decided to walk home
So that's were we head just me and my boots alone
And then when I took them off I placed them beside my bed
So I could be ready for my next journey or adventure ahead.
I wore those boots of mine for many, many years
They always felt so comfortable never brought me any tears
I would wash them and clean them and polish them too
Now they were always mine and they always looked brand new.
Then one day I wore another pair of shoes when I went out
I left my old boots home alone so they could air out
So myself and my new shows were gone most of the day
As I had errands to run and also many bills to pay.
But sadly when I got home I was taken by surprise
My boots were stolen and that brought tears to my eyes
I thought to myself who would steal those old boots of mine
Boots that have been worn and used who would commit that crime.
So I went out and bought so many different pairs of shoes
And none are that old as they are all seemingly brand new
I still go for my walks and I still go to town and all about
My feet are so much happier now I myself with joy wanna shout
But every now and then I think about those boots I once wore
The ones I found on the street and I never bought in the store
I wonder now if they are ragged and torn and beyond repair
But that's someone else problem now, so why would I care.

Randy L. McClave

poem by Randy McClave
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The Black Sea

In the term of office we call the presents of festivals,
The black sea is offended by the great sea,
As of this moment it is angered from above,
It is the black problem we are against.

Fulfilling satisfaction has taken a nuisance
By telling tales of the black ocean with its blue,
And we more than one know swimmers of scent
And merciful are the boats on the surface.

The blood is tidy, we are intelligent,
As much as gold mixed with diamond,
Like the black ocean and blue sea,
As hard as the concrete of shelter.

poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Tokyo Touch

(dedicated to people who love Tokyo)

harajuku
base ball
tea ceremony
cherry blossoms

shopping mecca
the neon lights
obsession
attraction

subwaywhirlwind
another planet
underground world

The Yoyogi Park
the grassy areas
street performers
everyone ends up

the food stalls
dancers, artists
massive garden
traditional temples

east meets west
mixed district
the nightlife
Roppongi

the clubs
restaurants
bars, cafes
Tokyo Dome

powerful
modern
eclectic
fas hion

Ginza Tower
Prada building
Boutiques Bulgari
Armani Ristorante

(inspired by Utada Hikaru's songs)

poem by Ahmad Shiddiqi
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Suitcases Don't Have Wings

Small bags big bags
Black bags white bags
Suitcases hey hey hey
For work and for play
Crammed full of things
Suitcases dont have wings
White bags black bags
Complete with one-way tags
Dragging us down
Ever closer to the ground
All the time they sing
Suitcases dont have wings
Big bags small bags
That behind us we drag
Past present and future
We cram so much in n' gotcha
We've been forgetting
suitcases dont have wings
All bags every bag
That we painfully drag
Drop them at jesus feet
Cause all ur needs he'll meet
Suitcases hey hey hey
They get in the way
Drop them if you want in
Suitcases dont have wings

poem by Joses Tirtabudi
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Broken Down

If you saw me standing there
out in the pouring rain
drowning in days of sorrow
behind the tears and pain
feeling nothing's left anymore
to hold onto here
on this broken down reservation road

You see just another broken down man
trying to make it through
lost in the hope's of tomorrow
of dreaming once again
would you lend a hand
and try to understand

If your children were hungry
with nothing left to eat
broken down in poverty
with no clothes to wear
or no shoes on thier feet
fallen by democracy
with a heart to share
would you give a damn

And would you just walk away
on the young and dying
would you just close the door
on the mother's crying
with no one here to hold
on this broken down reservation road
Spiritwind-2010

poem by Spiritwind Wood
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Bag Lady

Chicago's North Side

This senior citizen
whose face is Rushmore still
squats with pigeons on the steps
of the Rogers Park Masonic Temple.
She wears a shawl this snowy day
and is beneath the visor of a hunting cap
a woman who has paused along the way.
Her shopping bags, stuffed, frayed,
and each square feature of her face confess
she speaks at best a little English.
Rested, she will rise,
a penguin on a floe,
and navigate her day.

poem by Donal Mahoney
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Broken Wings

Broken wings
Broken wings
Twirls in ballroom gowns
Echos of glory
And reminders of things lost

Broken wings
Broken wings
Only feet to help carry on now
A thousand voices
Singing the same song

Broken wings
Broken wings
Feathers litter the ground
Where the proud used to stand
Where only broken wings remain

poem by Autumn Winds
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