Just past the park in Park Street
Just past the park in Park Street
there are people
that squat around a small fire
and the flames burn orange yellow
and the heat attracts a small group of people,
that does not bother about the smoke smell
that is drawn into their clothes.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Paisley Park (remix)
1 2, 1 2 3
Woo!
There is a park that is known 4 the face it attracts
Colorful people whose hair on one side is swept back
The smile on their faces, it speaks of profound inner peace
Ask where they're going, they'll tell U "Nowhere"
They've taken a lifetime lease on Paisley Park
CHORUS:
The girl on the seesaw is laughing
4 love is the color this place imparts (Paisley Park)
Admission is easy, just say U believe
Then come 2 this place in your heart
Paisley Park is in your heart
There is a woman who sits all alone by the pier
Her husband was naughty and caused his wife so many tears
He died without knowing forgiveness and now she is sad, so sad
Maybe she'll come 2 the park and forgive him
And life won't be so bad in Paisley Park
CHORUS
See the man cry as the city condemns where he lives
Memories die but taxes he'll still have 2 give
(Who?) Whoever said that elephants were stronger than mules?
Come 2 the Park and play with us
There aren't any rules in Paisley Park
CHORUS {x2}
(Paisley Park is in, yeah, your heart)
Your heart (Your heart)
Paisley Park
Your heart {x3}
(Say it is in your heart)
Paisley Park {x3
song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fire/Burning
Burning through the forset,
Flames of orange, red and yellow,
Lick at the trees and plants,
Scorching everything in its path,
Fire.
Burning my skin,
Leaving smoke and heat,
In it's wake,
Torching my hair,
Fire
A thing of beauty,
And warmth,
But feasr it also,
For its scorching heat,
Fire.
Burning my heart,
Blood fueling the flames,
Love as its oxygen,
The Burning desire,
Fire.
poem by McKenzie Mickey
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Girl On Fire
(the margarita horns: bill runge (baritone sax), paul baron & derry byrne (trumpets),
Tom keenlyside (tenor sax & arranger))
I just landed
Girl on fire
I felt the heat
From sydney to london
Well she shut my mouth
With her repartee
I opened hers
With the rest of me
Girl on fire
Baby burn burn burn
Girl on fire
Baby burn burn burn
Outta the shadows
Comes a dirty song
The same old faces
Try to keep you in line
I saw you laughing
At the very first show
You lit up the city
From the twenty-sixth floor
Girl on fire
Baby burn burn burn
Girl on fire
Whats saving her
Baby burn burn burn
Baby burn burn burn
Baby burn burn burn
I just landed
Girl on fire
I felt the heat
From new york to london
Well she shut my mouth
With a repartee
I opened hers
With the things that I say
Girl on fire
Thats the heat that burns
Girl on fire
How the flames make you learn
Girl on fire
Baby burn burn burn
Girl on fire
How the flames make me yearn
Girl on fire
Girl on fire
Girl on fire
Girl on girl on
Flames are rising
Flames are rising
Flames are rising
Flames are rising
song performed by by INXS
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Our Small Town
Love going for walks around town
A small town a holler from the big city
The many old building lining the main street
Which by the way isn't main street that's a block away
From the small library to the high school a jot to get to
The sidewalks resemble the old boardwalks from yesteryear
The shops vary as the street winds to the highway
The country air blows thru the street full of manure
Good ole air, they say around here
The small diner with the local farmers dwell at
Talking of this year's events from farming to politics
The ladies at the sew shop talking gossip
It's amazing how time don't change as years pass
Every year the town picnic to the 4th July jamboree
To the harvest dance and everything in between
Small town people living the old time ways
Wishing every town was as good as it
Walking thru saying hey to neighbors all around
Can make everyday a good day
Seeing people in the park enjoying the kids play
The banner welcoming you to our small town
Small town America, loving it, living it
poem by Michael Peterson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Happy Dog 3
I’m a happy dog at the park
I yelp and woof and bark
Along with the sound
Us dogs run around
I’m a happy dog at the park
I’m a happy dog at the park
You may think me off the mark
But I’m not by mistake
In the mud by the lake
I’m a happy dog at the park
I’m a happy dog at the park
I hunt like a big hairy shark
When the bunnies trail
Puts a spring in my tail
I’m a happy dog at the park
I’m a happy dog at the park
I’m glad that some bright spark
Brought a ball to throw
Now off I go
I’m a happy dog at the park
I’m a happy dog at the park
I’ll be wagging well into the dark
Enjoy fresh air and fun
Is my tip everyone
I’m a happy dog at the park
poem by Flying Lemming
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The 'Poem A Day' Project ~ Day 257
I’m a happy dog at the park
I yelp and woof and bark
Along with the sound
Us dogs run around
I’m a happy dog at the park
I’m a happy dog at the park
You may think me off the mark
But I’m not by mistake
In the mud by the lake
I’m a happy dog at the park
I’m a happy dog at the park
I hunt like a big hairy shark
When the bunnies trail
Puts a spring in my tail
I’m a happy dog at the park
I’m a happy dog at the park
I’m glad that some bright spark
Brought a ball to throw
Now off I go
I’m a happy dog at the park
I’m a happy dog at the park
I’ll be wagging well into the dark
Enjoy fresh air and fun
Is my tip everyone
I’m a happy dog at the park
poem by Flying Lemming
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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where did I park my car?
1
where did I park my car?
I’m sure I left it here
on this level
just hours before
had a coffee at the center
caught up with some friends
watched a movie
and bought some stuff for home
and now I can’t find my car
though I’ve searched past 10 minutes
where did I park my car?
I’m sure I left it here
on this level
just hours before
no, that’s not mine
that’s a Mercedes;
that one’s too shiny;
and maybe it’s this one
- no, mate,
we won’t go any nearer
this car is too clean
mine will look like
it’s not been washed since Noah
where did I park my car?
I’m sure I left it here
on this level
just hours before
2
well, yes, help me look out...
it’s an old Nissan
blue faded into white;
no, nobody ‘ll steal that
and the only people
who’d give it a second look
will be the traffic police
who’d wave as if to say:
Pull over, Sir;
let’s have a look at
your rego and front tyres
now, where did I park my car?
I’m sure I left it here
on this level
just hours before
well, damn,
I’m sure it hasn’t moved
it’s not that sort with smart technology
self-park, self-drive or with sensors;
it’s like an old useless dog
completely lost without its master
where did I park my car?
I’m sure I left it here
on this level
just hours before
now that we’ve looked
about 30 minutes or more
I’m not sure if this is the right level;
Oh, did I stop at Yellow Level
or Blue or Green or Pink?
was it level 1 or 2 or 3 or 9?
it’s completely out of my mind
where did I park my car?
I’m sure I left it here
on this level
just hours before
ah, there it is
that old boneshaker;
thanks mate, for helping me look
You were saying you want a lift –
yes, come - I'll dropp you…no trouble…
yes, it’s just on the way…
Hey…Where you going?
What? Don’t want a lift?
You’d rather walk home?
Hey, what’s wrong with my car?
OK, suit yourself…
at least I found my faithful car…
where did I park my car?
it was Level 5, Yellow Sector
Lot 125
all the while
and that beauty was here each second
an old helpless dog, waiting for its master
poem by Raj Arumugam
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Matchstick
Billowing black smoke, tinged with yellow.
Fiery crimson on a skeleton ridge set aglow.
Showers of flames explode, as the eucalypti fuel
This raging infernio - this catalyst that changes its world.
It removes the old, and replaces it with new.
A new world where things grow anew.
It removes the past's misfortunes and errors
Gives a new tomorrow, a chance for a new millennia.
So big, so vast. Those who would put it out, can't come near
For nothing is quite as dangerous as fear.
Even if they do, it would take an ocean, to quell this beast.
To extinguish such a fire manually, tis an impossible feat.
So powerful, so invincible, yet from small doth this thing grow.
It all starts with just a little match, yet behold.
Finite and weak. So underestimated and ignored.
A matchstick. We don't even think about it, it's so small,
Yet it possesses the power to change things like never before.
It can change the world to something we never saw.
True, many matches burn out. Some never even catch fire.
But ever so often, just now and then. Every once in a while:
A little matchstick sets of an unstoppable fire.
Just a twig, with a little phosphorus. A little nothing.
But give it a little strike, and it becomes a big something.
To start a bushfire, tis all you'll ever need:
A little matchstick.
poem by Joses Tirtabudi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Small Town
Well I was born in a small town
And I live in a small town
Probly die in a small town
Oh, those small communities
All my friends are so small town
My parents live in the same small town
My job is so small town
Provides little opportunity
Educated in a small town
Taught the fear of jesus in a small town
Used to daydream in that small town
Another boring romantic thats me
But Ive seen it all in a small town
Had myself a ball in a small town
Married an l.a. doll and brought her to this small town
Now shes small town just like me
No I cannot forget where it is that I come from
I cannot forget the people who love me
Yeah, I can be myself here in this small town
And people let me be just what I want to be
Got nothing against a big town
Still hayseed enough to say
Look whos in the big town
But my bed is in a small town
Oh, and thats good enough for me
Well I was born in a small town
And I can breathe in a small town
Gonna die in this small town
And thats probly where theyll bury me
song performed by by John Mellencamp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Slumming On Park Avenue
Put on your slumming clothes and get your car
Lets go sightseeing where the high-toned people are
Come on, theres lots of fun in store for you
See how the other half lives on park avenue
Lets go slumming, take me slumming
Lets go slumming on park avenue
Let us hide behind a pair of fancy glasses
And make faces when a member of the classes passes
Lets go smelling where theyre dwelling
Sniffing evrything the way they do
Let us go to it, they do it
Why cant we do it too?
Lets go slumming, nose thumbing, on park avenue
[2nd chorus:]
Lets go slumming, take me slumming
Lets go slumming on park avenue
Where the social hearts for broadway lights are throbbing
And they spend their nights in smart cafes hobknobbing, snobbing
Come lets eye them, pass right by them
Looking down our noses as they do
Let us go to it, they do it
Why cant we do it too?
Lets go slumming, crumb bumming, on park avenue
song performed by by Irving Berlin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Slumming On Park Avenue
Put on your slumming clothes and get your car
Lets go sightseeing where the high-toned people are
Come on, theres lots of fun in store for you
See how the other half lives on park avenue
Lets go slumming, take me slumming
Lets go slumming on park avenue
Let us hide behind a pair of fancy glasses
And make faces when a member of the classes passes
Lets go smelling where theyre dwelling
Sniffing evrything the way they do
Let us go to it, they do it
Why cant we do it too?
Lets go slumming, nose thumbing, on park avenue
[2nd chorus:]
Lets go slumming, take me slumming
Lets go slumming on park avenue
Where the social hearts for broadway lights are throbbing
And they spend their nights in smart cafes hobknobbing, snobbing
Come lets eye them, pass right by them
Looking down our noses as they do
Let us go to it, they do it
Why cant we do it too?
Lets go slumming, crumb bumming, on park avenue
song performed by by Ella Fitzgerald
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Past skeletons of steal and concrete
Past skeletons of steal and concrete
I came this morning
and saw people small like ants,
between yellow cranes groaning and bended.
Where white smoke poured from round chimneys
and people struggled in the half-light
or glowing in a hell like fire
of iron and metal
lost between ovens cooking glowing,
people where captive and caged
by walls, doors and roofs that surrounded them
and lost in the circles drawn by the city
attracted by work from rural places.
The day was cast over and grey
but still they kept on building
and cement lorries were parked in the road
while workers were clinging to black pipes.
On the other side of the road children laughed
caught by the tinned pleasure pulsating
day and night without end
and beggars waited with stretched out hands.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The guardian of the flames
Always there have been
something holy to me,
about flames
that comes alive suddenly.
It’s a great thing
to see flames spread
and to see yellow licking tongs,
consume wood
and to get heat, energy
and comfort from it.
At a time human existence
surely depended on
keeping the secret
of flames
and to make sure,
that the last glowing coals
do not die.
When I was a child,
my brother and me
almost burnt a hillock
and some residences down
by misadventure.
The more I tried to kill
the small fire,
that I started in the long brown winter grass,
the more the fire spread.
It’s a fact that my behind
also burnt on that occasion
from a hiding
with a old fan belt
and I learned quickly,
what the power of fire is
and how to act responsibly with matches.
Tonight I am the guardian of the flames
at the fireplace in the lounge
and I take care of the hot coals
and have to put wood on
before the fire dies.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The thunder cat
In the bush I see a strange thing,
a secret cat
that like a phantom
follow our tracts, shadowing behind
leaving no tracts of its own.
Red eyes glow at night
with the intensity of a fire burning
but every time that I really look
it’s out of reach.
Around the orange-yellow fire
where we are barbequing the meat
from the day’s hunting
I can almost smell the monster
where it sneaks out of sight
around us.
I wonder what has awaken
in the wild veldt, the jungle
and what hell of a thing
we now have drawn
from its sleep?
My.308 rifle and hunting knife
both lie near to my side,
but something let me comprehend
that no usual weapons
will stand against this monster
but at that time I am still convinced
that it’s only imagination
and the tiredness, the party
at the fire
and my thoughts are playing with me.
Totally unconcerned we go to sleep
and with time the flames
burn lower and lower
and there are only glowing coals left.
When I wake up with a start
a bright moon is in the sky
and something strange
stand over me
and it looks part transparent
but still with a fixed
dark form.
I can smell death
on the breath of it
and see its teeth glittering
and it’s as if thunder
flames from its jaws
when it bites at me
and an urge for survival
let me jump from the ground
to the other side
of the glowing coals
and its teeth clash on each other.
Next to me lies a shovel
and some of the coals
still have small flames
and I see that the coals
make it hesitate for a moment.
Desperately I grab the shovel,
scoop if full of coals
and when the monster
opens its jaws again
to take another bite at me
and I get the rotten smell
of its foul breath
I throw the whole shovel
down its throat.
For a moment it roars thundering,
is filled with bright white thunderbolts
and stand ablaze
and looks like a thunder cat
before it disappears into the darkness
and becomes nothing
as if suddenly it’s in another dimension
and everybody stares at me
with eyes huge as saucers
and from the sand
I pick up two teeth
that shines strangely, like diamonds,
but with an unknown blue-white fire
glowing from the inside.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Where The Northwesterly Blows
Where the Northwesterly Blows (memory of a town)
In the small park with gloomy trees, near where the factories used to be,
was a bust of a man’s image on a plinth. I think it was made of bronze,
the head was brown when not striped white by seagull droppings.
Mother said he had been a Mesèn; she liked using odd words, desperately
trying to keep afloat in a world of tinned sardines in oil and mackerel in
tomato sauce. I took it to mean a rich man kind to working people and had
donated this sad little park surrounded by damp factory walls; a place where
the workers could sit and enjoy the sun. The park was only open Saturday
Afternoons and Sundays, one couldn’t have people sitting there during work
week. A child climbed over its fence and drowned in a tarn of green algae.
The park was eradicated, just as the grim factories were thirty years later.
Life was bleak in my town, one neon lit advert, on the night sky “Jesus Saves.”
Competing with the stars, and a persistent rumour that the man in the suit
shop wore ladies underwear.
poem by Oskar Hansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Saturday In The Park
Saturday in the park
I think it was the fourth of july
Saturday in the park
I think it was the fourth of july
People dancing, people laughing
A man selling ice cream
Singing italian songs
(fake italian lyric)
Can you dig it (yes, I can)
And Ive been waiting such a long time
For saturday
Saturday in the park
Youd think it was the fourth of july
Saturday in the park
Youd think it was the fourth of july
People talking, really smiling
A man playing guitar
Singing for us all
Will you help him change the world
Can you dig it (yes, I can)
And Ive been waiting such a long time
For today
Slow motion riders fly the colors of the day
A bronze man still can tell stories his own way
Listen children all is not lost
All is not lost
Funny days in the park
Every days the fourth of july
Funny days in the park
Every days the fourth of july
People reaching, people touching
A real celebration
Waiting for us all
If we want it, really want it
Can you dig it (yes, I can)
And Ive been waiting such a long time
For the day
song performed by by Chicago
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fire Field
The fire crackled
Then exploded
Flames circled
Close around me
The new light
So close to me
The shield of heat
Captured the cool
Smoke clouds rose
Dissolving the air
As well as my hope
That I could ever win
I closed my eyes
Felt the heat
Then a rush
Of hope
I took the water that was there now
Spilled it all around
Flames melted into dust
Smoke transformed into air
My hope returned
I just won
The fire was gone
And everything was fine
Don't stand too close to the fire
Everyone says
But I have to
Or I'll never know
How to put it out
When it comes again
poem by Bunny Crunch
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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South Park Theme
I'm going down to south park, gonna have myself a time.
Friendly faces everywhere, humble folks without temptation.
Going down to south park, gonna leave my woes behind.
Ample parking day or night, people shouting "howdy neighbor!"
Heading on out to south park, gonna see if i can't unwind.
I like girls with big vaginas, i like girls with big fat titties.
So come on down to south park and meet some friends of mine.
song performed by by Primus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In the Park
In the park
an old man and an old woman
sit away from each other
In the park
the old man and the old woman
look at each other
In the park
that old man and that old woman
sit together
In the park
they sing together
In the park
they hold hands
and walk back home together.........!
poem by Dr Madhavi Grace
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I'm On Fire
Sparks are flying and I'm on fire.
I can't see through the smoke and I'm on fire.
I can't breath, I can't think
Because I'm on fire.
It hurts but it's warm and it's beautiful
You're feeding my fire
My fire of love
And I'm burning alive
And I'm loving everything about you
From how you make me feel to the flames glowing around me
But you're killing me in this heat
Can't you understand that fire is wonderful and terrible?
Can't you save me from falling further under the flames' embrace?
Can't you see I'm on fire?
poem by Tsunami HiroshiSu
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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