A few Anku’s
The old dentist waits;
quickly
children scuttle off.
*
Prey of butcherbird
flutters
on washing line.
*
Restaurant gossip
playing
with silent feet.
*
yellow sickle moon catch
howling
of an old dog.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Related quotes
Sickle
SICKLE
Love moon and its nature,
Don`t make it a sickle,
Don`t divide moon between Hindu and Mohanden or Christian,
Don`t shed blood in the universe,
Moon is moon,
Man is man,
Don`t divide and try to cut it,
With a sickle
poem by Dr. Ram Sharma
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Crocodile's Toothache
Oh the Crocodile
Went to the dentist
And sat down in the chair,
And the dentist said, 'Now tell me, sir,
Why does it hurt and where?'
And the Crocodile said, 'I'll tell you the truth.
I have a terrible ache in my tooth.'
And he opened his jaws so wide, so wide,
That the dentist he climbed right inside,
And the dentist laughed, 'Oh, isn't this fun?'
As he pulled the teeth out, one by one.
And the Crocodile cried, 'You're hurting me so!
Please put down your pliers and let me go.'
But the dentist just laughed with a Ho Ho Ho,
And he said, 'I still have twelve to go --
Oops, that's the wrong one, I confess.
But what's one crocodile's tooth, more or less?'
Then suddenly the jaws went snap,
And the dentist was gone right off the map.
And where he went one could only guess...
To North or South or East or West...
He left no forwarding address.
But what's one dentist more or less?
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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Creep Hymn
The creep
Goes to a restaurant
And order the food to eat at the restaurant
But when the food comes he eats a little bit of the food
Just so he can taste it
And he tells everybody very loud that the food that he order
Taste like shit
And then he takes the plate and throws it on the floor
But he lives the restaurant without pay
The waitress from the restaurant looks everywhere for him in the Restaurant
Sorry waitress he is gone out of the door
And he run away so that you couldn't catch him
poem by Aldo Kraas
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A hollow howl of a mighty wolf
Howling under the night sky,
there was a beast pride,
of his strengh and wisdom,
yet his howling was so loud,
that it could break a thick cloud
why his howling means nothing.
Where was his pack,
which serve him night and day,
hunting his prey like a black
shadow stalking its prey,
where was the pack now
why didn't they follow the leader's howl.
Where was his mistresses and mates,
which should stand by his side
and assisted him through the ages,
where were they now
O mighty wolf howl so loud,
yet no one answered to his call.
poem by Wicha Surin
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Devils Radio
Devils radio
Gossip, gossip
Gossip, gossip
I heard it in the night
Words that thoughtless speak
Like vultures swooping down below
On the devils radio
I hear it through the day
Airwaves gettin filled
With gossip broadcast to and fro
On the devils radio
Oh yeah, gossip
Gossip, oh yeah
Hes in the clubs and bars
And never turns it down
Talking about what he dont know
On the devils radio
Hes in your tv set
Wont give it a rest
That soul betraying so and so
The devils radio
Gossip, gossip
Gossip, gossip
(oh yeah) gossip, (gossip) oh yeah
(gossip) oh yeah, (oh yeah) gossip
Its white and black like industrial waste
Pollution of the highest degree
You wonder why I dont hang out much
I wonder how you cant see
Hes in the films and songs
And on all your magazines
Its everywhere that you may go
The devils radio
Oh yeah, gossip
Gossip, oh yeah
Runs thick and fast, no one really sees
Quite what bad it can do
As it shapes you into something cold
Like an eskimo igloo
Its all across our lives
Like a weed its spread
till nothing else has space to grow
The devils radio
Can creep up in the dark
Make us hide behind shades
And buzzing like a dynamo
The devils radio
(gossip) oh yeah, (gossip) oh yeah
(gossip) gossip, (gossip) gossip
Oh yeah, gossip I heard you on satans wireless
Gossip, oh yeah you know the devils radio, child
Gossip, gossip
Gossip, gossip
song performed by by George Harrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The stars in the sky was bright
Last night the stars
in the sky was bright
and the moon,
was in a sickle shape
The five stars
of the southern cross
twinkled at me
and below them,
the two pointers
was sparkling much lower.
The yellow half moon
was grinning
and your eyes glowed
and shined like pieces
of tigereye quartz
and your smile,
sparkled like a string
of the whitest pearls
in the candle light.
Last night every thing
was much better than
just allright,
when I held you tight
and your lips
were sweet and soft
on mine.
I can still hear
the soft wind blowing
and the charms
playing their own song
and it was more than passion,
that joined us together.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Five For Country Music
I. Insomnia
The bulb at the front door burns and burns.
If it were a white rose it would tire of blooming
through another endless night.
The moon knows the routine;
it beats the bushes from east to west
and sets empty-handed. Again the one
she is waiting for has outrun the moon.
II. Old Money
The spotted hands shake as they polish the coins.
The shiny penny goes under the tongue,
the two silver pieces
weighted by pyramids
will shut down the eyes.
All the rest is paper,
useless in any world but this.
III. Home Movie
She knows that walk, that whistle, that knock.
It's the black wolf who sticks
his floured paw underneath the door.
She tries not to open. One look at his face
and she'll drop the gun. He will pick it up
and turn it on her where she waits,
her eyes shining, her hands over her head.
IV. Golden Boy
Whitewashed, the eyes refuse you.
And so the mouth must be serene,
the muscles play, the body
take an easy stance
to divert you from the two
boarded-up chambers
where someone has died.
V. Washing Day
Each year her laundry line gets lighter.
One by one they disappear,
ten little Indians. They take their socks,
their jeans, their stiff plaid shirts.
Above the Ford on its concrete blocks,
striped and zippered,
her cotton dress flutters on and on.
poem by Lisel Mueller
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A Game On High
Have you ever thought about the moon and stars
and wonder how they got their name?
I think that God just placed them there
and then He played a game.
Eeny-meeny-miny-mo
Catch a star and let it go.
If it hollers or sings a tune
go and catch yourself a moon.
And when He finished playing the game
things in the sky were never the same.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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The Dentist Appointment
On Thursday morning, I have to see the Dentist;
Cancelling the appointment, I am trying to resist.
I just don't know if I will be able to do it;
I don't know if I can put myself through it.
To help myself relax, and help allay my fears.
I am planning to plug my iPod into my ears
If, with my favourite music, my ears are filled,
It will drown out the sound of the dreaded drill.
Whenever I think about it, I feel extremely tense.
The relief I'll feel, when it's over, will be immense.
In the pit of my stomach, I get bouts of butterflies;
A few times, in secret, I've even had a little cry.
On my last trip to the Dentist, my eyes sprung a leak,
And my fingers gripped tightly to the edge of my seat.
The needle which they use, feels me with such fright,
So I'll lie there tomorrow, and shut my eyes really tight.
On Thursday morning, I'm the first one in the chair;
I'm hoping that this will make it a tad easier to bear.
But what if, the situation, I really just cannot face?
What if, away from the surgery, I then quickly race?
My Dentist does his real best to put me at ease;
He is really friendly, and looks slightly Chinese.
But, if I keep myself calm, and be really brave,
My teeth, my Dentist, will then be able to save.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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Primrose
Yellow, yellow, yellow, yellow!
It is not a color.
It is summer!
It is the wind on a willow,
the lap of waves, the shadow
under a bush, a bird, a bluebird,
three herons, a dead hawk
rotting on a pole--
Clear yellow!
It is a piece of blue paper
in the grass or a threecluster of
green walnuts swaying, children
playing croquet or one boy
fishing, a man
swinging his pink fists
as he walks--
It is ladysthumb, forget-me-nots
in the ditch, moss under
the flange of the carrail, the
wavy lines in split rock, a
great oaktree--
It is a disinclination to be
five red petals or a rose, it is
a cluster of birdsbreast flowers
on a red stem six feet high,
four open yellow petals
above sepals curled
backward into reverse spikes--
Tufts of purple grass spot the
green meadow and clouds the sky.
poem by William Carlos Williams
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Seven Deadly Sins: Envy
The sun gazed in silence upon the silver moon,
Jealous and angry that the moon shone every night.
In silent envy, she impatiently waits
For the moon to move, and for it to be her turn to emerge.
But eventually,
She ran out of patience.
She demanded of the moon
That she be allowed to come-out.
But the wise moon refused.
“All things must run its course.
If the moon was to be thrown from the sky,
What would become of night? ”
“I would rule the night! ” Declared the sun,
In all her foolishness.
“Then the night and the day would be one.
Then, the world would certainly be a better place! ”
And the moon shook its head in pity
At the sun, so jealous of what the moon had.
“You don’t seem to realize, ” said the moon with a tearful sigh,
“That I am just a reflection of you.”
poem by Katie Jensen
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Vivaldi, concerto for flute
Children playing on a green playground
Mothers watching
Closely watching
The faces of children
Smiling
Cool air
Green leaves brown leaves yellow leaves
Soft wind
Leaves falling down to the slow soft wind
Children running
Chasing each other
They are playing
A mother feels the soft wind
Cool air
And sees the trickles of leaves
Blending green brown yellow
With sunshine as canvass
Nature and human figures of mothers and children
Blending
Amazing
What a beautiful painting has God
In quick short brushes
Effortlessly with perfect strokes did make
The frame is laughter of children.
I am taking the whole picture for home.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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No Name #6
You've got the wrong equation
Your figures fell so you make more up
All's false in celebration
If only you could just change your luck
This time we can't lose
This time we can't lose
You're pushing nine you're doing pretty
But you're playing with the sound turned down
We drive along between the cows and cotton
Saying with the stars all around
This time we can't lose
This time we can't lose
The moon is in a sickle shape
You know you're only really happy just for now
Looked at the city scape
Well there's a planet that'll catch you and drag you back down
This time we can't lose
This time we can't lose
This time we can't lose
This time we can't lose
Can't lose
Can't lose
song performed by by Elliott Smith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Moon.
The moon
Oh catch the moon
Put a noose in its nose
Bring it back to harness
The icy wilderness of the noon
Sprinkle it with flowered dew.
Catch it before it runs
To penumbra of sun hide itself
Oh run and run to recover
From suffocation of grief & bart
Stiffen its dust with tears
Or the ceremonial flood
Of the tidings of the present
The anti poetic
Peregrine of the sedged cart
The olibanum of crushed heart.
The moon
Oh catch the moon
Catch it till it runs
To the hilliard mansions
The septic pun
Where the master of hounds sleep
With his metallic face
Turned to the wall
Where under the greenish shadows
Shines the dool
The moon
Oh catch the moon
Catch it before it runs
To the penumbra of the sun.
poem by Durlabh Singh
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You Are The Sea
The cruelest thing to someone like me
You wash towards me, covering everything
Then pull away and disappear again
You infiltrate every cell of me
I gladly wrap my hope and joy in you
Then you gradually disappear again
I've been sitting in this hotel room for so long
I keep thinking I hear the phone ringing
But it's not
I keep thinking I see the sun rising
But it's not
It's just the sea
Playing its tricks on me
I say too much on the subject
I dwell too long on the subject
Can't shake your face
Can't shake your name from my head
Said too much again
I've said too much again
The cruelest thing to someone like me
Is what I do to myself, waiting for high-tide
Ignoring everything I have, torturing myself
The craziness in me is just spilling over
Diving into shallow water from the rocks
Forgetting everything I have, torturing myself
I've been sitting at this bar for far too long
I keep thinking I hear your voice behind me
But I'm wrong
I keep thinking I see you walking by
But I'm wrong
It's just the sea
Playing its tricks on me
It's been nearly a year of concentrated longing now
Nearly a year of pining after the sea and the girl
Nearly a year and no single step closer
Nearly a year and still I don't know her
I keep thinking this is what I really need
But it's not
I keep thinking this is all so clear
But I'm wrong
It's just the sea
Playing its tricks on me
You are the sea
Playing your tricks on me
You are the sea
And I should let go
I should let go
Why can't I let go?
Is pain all I can know?
I'm washing my hands
I'm washing my hands of you
I'm washing them
In the sea
I'm washing my hands of you
Washing them
In the sea
And letting go of you
I'm letting go of the sea...
(2009)
poem by B. Alexander
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Dance Quickly Now
-
Dance, I said to the boy in the glass
Staring back at me with a darkening mask
Dance, I begged, with love and pain
Dance, please dance, oh dance again
-
Dance with the moon in the child’s eye
Circling the middle as black as coal
Dance quickly now, its leaving soon
Light of the moon and the child’s soul
Dance with the sun in the child’s laugh
Bouncing round off sinister things
Dance quickly now, with crystal prism
Scattering wisdom, melting wings
Dance with the rain in the child’s tear
Watching the clouds attack then stop
Dance quickly now, the storm has shattered
All that mattered, with a single drop
Dance with the hope in his stuttered speech
Holding it close for a later year
Dance quickly now, before he serves
Nonsense words, in a busted mirror
-
Though the moon may spin and the sun revolve
Though love still waits and the rain still falls
Though the child may laugh he glares inside
Exhaling life with a sudden sigh
-
poem by Ben Paynter
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His Line In The Sand (Fun Poem 133)
For Sara Feilder
Who suggested the first line.
The stiff backed man
drew his line in the sand
to hold back the encroaching tide.
He failed just like King Canute
and got his feet all wet.
He then looked at the sea angrily and said.
"You were supposed to stop at my line,
not go beyond it and soak my feet."
The sea replied with a stronger wave
that washed up over his shoes to his knees.
With that, the stiff backed man
made his retreat further back up the shore
well out of reach of the sea.
The moral of this story,
the sea and tide waits on no man
and if you do not want to get wet feet
stand back well out of its way.
30 July 2012
poem by David Harris
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Time That's Given To You Quickly Goes
Speeding up to catch on fast,
What has long slipped from your grasp...
Is like playing ping pong,
In those yesterdays gone.
You left your saddle to collect upon it dust.
And that boat you use to paddle has rust.
Now...
You believe that you can just float.
And...
You believe that you can just mope.
But...
Time that's given to you isn't slowed,
No...
Time that's given to you quickly goes.
So...
There's no boat for you to slow row.
No!
Time that's given to you quickly goes.
You left your saddle to collect upon it dust.
And that boat you use to paddle has rust.
So...
There's no boat for you to slow row.
No!
Time that's given to you quickly goes.
And...
You believe that you can just mope.
But...
Time that's given to you isn't slowed.
Speeding up to catch on fast,
What has long slipped from your grasp...
Is like playing ping pong,
In those yesterdays gone.
And...
You believe that you can just mope.
But...
Time that's given to you isn't slowed.
No!
Time that's given to you quickly goes.
So...
Bloating hesitators oughta doze.
So...
They wont noticed that the time goes.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Song - Sea of Sand
You sent me to the moon
Across a silent sea of sand
I was reaching for your hand
But you were standing on a hill
You launched me to the moon
Across the wind between the stars
I was reaching through the sand
But I was fading out of view
I was just a photograph
An old fading black and white
Taken by a passer-by
When the sun was out of sight
You sent me to the moon
I caught the desolation bus
There was no-one there but us
I saw your shadow on the sand
You sent me to the moon
Down every road we’ve ever walked
Every place we strayed or talked
When we were higher than the wind
I went searching all the stars
Between the avenues and bars
You were everywhere I went
In a different universe
You sent me to the moon
Across the frozen wastes of old
Where the howling wind blew cold
Where I lost you in the snow
You sent me to the moon
Although I didn’t want to know
But I built myself a home
Between the rainbow and the stones
I was frozen to the bone
In the icy wind of truth
I was free and on my own
In my castle on the moon
You sent me to the moon
Across a silent sea of sand
I was reaching for your hand
But you were standing on a hill
(Thanks to Tailor Bell for 'higher than the wind')
Indian Is The Client's Race
1
I have a client (in massage)
Pana (indian) is his race
Studied ''daw'' in London
and talk with shaking face
His armpit like a camel
smell ''no washing'' feet
smell no washing feet
smell no washing feet
11
We have a client
Pana is their race
Having business now in Dubai
despite dirhamscrisis
they're going to establish
Like Philippine 5 - 6
Like Philippine 5-6
Like Philippine 5 - 6
111
We have a client
Spring from Pana race
Having same -same faces
From Mumbai Populace
They book daily at FEET FIRST
But mostly no good tips
Mostly no good tips
mostly no good tips
Xi Tao (Chinese therapist) don't reflex
Kai Gue refused their feet
break down
repeat all stanzas
shukran
poem by Rommel Mark Dominguez Marchan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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