Outside the spring is blossoming
(after Dorothy Parker)
Outside the spring is blossoming
while a myriad of birds sing,
later in the afternoon
it might be raining
but it matters not,
even the summer days that I have got
are far too quickly passing
and some are cold and others hot.
There’s a new lady that I might adore
waiting at my front door
and I wonder what will be
her impression of me?
I see her sparkling eyes and shining hair
while she looks lovely and fair,
if she stays or leaves, such things have happened before,
she will be only one more.
[Reference: “The new love” by Dorothy Parker.]
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Dorothy Parker
Dorothy Parker [Controversy Music, ASCAP - 1987]
--------------
Dorothy was a waitress on the promenade
She worked the night shift
Dishwater blonde, tall and fine
She got a lot of tips
Well, earlier I'd been talkin' stuff
In a violent room
Fighting with lovers past
I needed someone with a quicker wit than mine
Dorothy was fast
Well, I ordered - "Yeah, let me get a fruit cocktail, I ain't 2 hungry"
Dorothy laughed
She said "Sounds like a real man 2 me"
Kinda cute, U wanna take a bath?
(do you wanna, do you wanna, bath)
I said "Cool, but I'm leaving my pants on" (she say)
"Cuz I'm kind of going with someone"
She said "Sounds like a real man 2 me"
"Mind if I turn on the radio?"
"Oh, my favorite song" she said
And it was Joni singing "Help me I think I'm falling"
(Ring)
The phone rang and she said
"Whoever's calling can't be as cute as U"
Right then I knew I was through
(Dorothy Parker was cool)
My pants where wet, they came off
But she didn't see the movie
Cuz she hadn't read the book first
Instead she pretended she was blind
An affliction brought on by a witch's curse
Dorothy made me laugh (ha ha)
I felt much better so I went back
2 the violent room (tell us what U did)
Let me tell U what I did...
I took another bubble bath with my pants on
All the fighting stopped
Next time I'll do it sooner
This is the ballad of Dorothy Parker
Dorothy Parker, Dorothy Parker, Dorothy Parker
Dorothy Parker, Dorothy Parker, Dorothy Parker
Well
Dorothy Parker, Dorothy Parker
Well
song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Ballad Of Dorothy Parker
Dorothy was a waitress on the promenade
She worked the night shift
Dishwater blonde, tall and fine
She got a lot of tips
Well, earlier Id been talkin stuff
In a violent room
Fighting with lovers past
I needed someone with a quicker wit than mine
Dorothy was fast
Well, I ordered - yeah, let me get a fruit cocktail, I aint 2 hungry
Dorothy laughed
She said sounds like a real man 2 me
Kinda cute, u wanna take a bath?
(do you wanna, do you wanna, bath)
I said cool, but Im leaving my pants on (she say)
Cuz Im kind of going with someone
She said sounds like a real man 2 me
Mind if I turn on the radio?
Oh, my favorite song she said
And it was joni singing help me I think Im falling
(ring)
The phone rang and she said
Whoevers calling cant be as cute as u
Right then I knew I was through
(dorothy parker was cool)
My pants where wet, they came off
But she didnt see the movie
Cuz she hadnt read the book first
Instead she pretended she was blind
An affliction brought on by a witchs curse
Dorothy made me laugh (ha ha)
I felt much better so I went back
2 the violent room (tell us what u did)
Let me tell u what I did...
I took another bubble bath with my pants on
All the fighting stopped
Next time Ill do it sooner
This is the ballad of dorothy parker
Dorothy parker, dorothy parker, dorothy parker
Dorothy parker, dorothy parker, dorothy parker
Well
Dorothy parker, dorothy parker
Well
song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Threnody
(after Dorothy Parker)
Jacarandas flower in the street,
and maybe for you my feelings did not matter
while the trees’ scent hangs pervasive and sweet
my life is broke as if our love does shatter.
Maybe our separation is a blessing
and I wipe the tears away,
while it feels as if all meaning is missing
and the sun is bright at the beginning of day.
Outside birds in those trees are whistling
and there’s tightness in my breast
from our painful parting
and in my own city I feel like a guest
that has overstayed his welcome
while I am lost without a home.
[Reference: Threnody by Dorothy Parker.]
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Coda
(after Dorothy Parker)
There’s a time that there’s pleasure in living,
to it there is something really divine,
when love is essence to taking and giving,
and life sparkles happy like good red wine
but when time does it thing and rushes on
the body looses all its usefulness
when most of one’s days are totally gone;
cynical one views friends with aloofness
while in art you hunt for some catharsis,
some seek the beauty of a younger lady
while they do want the essence of bliss
but life at the end becomes somewhat shady
while you conclude final moves in life’s spell,
to grasp the ways between heaven and hell.
[Reference: “Coda” by Dorothy Parker.]
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I Have Been Dreaming Of A Girl (In Answer To Dorothy Parker)
I have been dreaming of a girl
with sunshine in her hair,
about someone lovely and fair
whose locks the wind does twirl
and up to me she would be walking
on the brightest sunny day
and spontaneous we would be talking
while she would flip all of the yesterday's away.
Then one day suddenly
my life and the world changed
while you walked up to me
and it felt as if everything had been rearranged.
Maybe there is something in the first time that we both did love,
a secret kind of blessing that did come from above
and although it had been many years ago,
still I do of that blessed summer know.
[Reference: 'The red dress' by Dorothy Parker.]
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
She Is Lovely (French / Dutch Roundel) (In Answer To Dorothy Parker)
She is lovely, but sometimes silent is she,
so fragile she looks with her golden hair
but always she is seen as fair
and about her sheer beauty most men agree.
Still she smiles with modesty
while her looks are beyond pretty and somewhat rare.
She is lovely, but sometimes silent is she,
so fragile she looks with her golden hair
that I a withering flower see
and men at her do continually stare
but of this she is totally unaware
as if she is from this world free,
she is lovely, but sometimes silent is she.
[Reference: “Roundel” by Dorothy Parker.]
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The New Love
If it shine or if it rain,
Little will I care or know.
Days, like drops upon a pane,
Slip, and join, and go.
At my door's another lad;
Here's his flower in my hair.
If he see me pale and sad,
Will he see me fair?
I sit looking at the floor.
Little will I think or say
If he seek another door;
Even if he stay.
poem by Dorothy Parker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Roundel
She's passing fair; but so demure is she,
So quiet is her gown, so smooth her hair,
That few there are who note her and agree
She's passing fair.
Yet when was ever beauty held more rare
Than simple heart and maiden modesty?
What fostered charms with virtue could compare?
Alas, no lover ever stops to see;
The best that she is offered is the air.
Yet- if the passing mark is minus D-
She's passing fair.
poem by Dorothy Parker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Small Hours
(after Dorothy Parker)
No more the joys, of jubilant poems come back;
and at this end of day
I see the wide world that’s turning black
and nowhere in it there’s any grey.
Far too sad is the sheer loneliness
while the skyline glows
before darkness suddenly flourish
and painful it is to know
that another solitary day will come
with time in it moving much too slow
before I will return to an empty home
and I am like a leave that in the wind blows
with my life a falling, twisting
kind of thing.
[Reference: “The small hours” by Dorothy Parker.]
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Right across the country from me
(after Dorothy Parker, for A)
Right across the country from me
is the place that you call home,
a place where my spirit at times roam,
where you live in a kind of tranquillity.
Sometimes I do not know
how to put my feelings in words, to express
my utter loneliness
and at break of day and its end the horizon glows
in the place where you dwell
and under others skies
the day begins and dies
while of my thoughts I want you to tell
but maybe it's much better
not to say anything,
not even to make your telephone ring
and never to write a letter.
[Reference: "Hearthside" by Dorothy Parker.]
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Song in a Minor Key
There's a place I know where the birds swing low,
And wayward vines go roaming,
Where the lilacs nod, and a marble god
Is pale, in scented gloaming.
And at sunset there comes a lady fair
Whose eyes are deep with yearning.
By an old, old gate does the lady wait
Her own true love's returning.
But the days go by, and the lilacs die,
And trembling birds seek cover;
Yet the lady stands, with her long white hands
Held out to greet her lover.
And it's there she'll stay till the shadowy day
A monument they grave her.
She will always wait by the same old gate, --
The gate her true love gave her.
poem by Dorothy Parker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Indian Summer
In youth, it was a way I had
To do my best to please,
And change, with every passing lad,
To suit his theories.
But now I know the things I know,
And do the things I do;
And if you do not like me so,
To hell, my love, with you!
poem by Dorothy Parker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Every year, back come Spring, with nasty little birds yapping their fool heads off and the ground all mucked up with plants.
quote by Dorothy Parker
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Love is like quicksilver in the hand. Leave the fingers open and it stays. Clutch it, and it darts away.
quote by Dorothy Rothschild Parker
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
George Sand
What time the gifted lady took
Away from paper, pen, and book,
She spent in amorous dalliance
(They do those things so well in France).
poem by Dorothy Parker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Social Note
Lady, lady, should you meet
One whose ways are all discreet,
One who murmurs that his wife
Is the lodestar of his life,
One who keeps assuring you
That he never was untrue,
Never loved another one . . .
Lady, lady, better run!
poem by Dorothy Parker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Prophetic Soul
Because your eyes are slant and slow,
Because your hair is sweet to touch,
My heart is high again; but oh,
I doubt if this will get me much.
poem by Dorothy Parker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Lady's Reward
Lady, lady, never start
Conversation toward your heart;
Keep your pretty words serene;
Never murmur what you mean.
Show yourself, by word and look,
Swift and shallow as a brook.
Be as cool and quick to go
As a drop of April snow;
Be as delicate and gay
As a cherry flower in May.
Lady, lady, never speak
Of the tears that burn your cheek-
She will never win him, whose
Words had shown she feared to lose.
Be you wise and never sad,
You will get your lovely lad.
Never serious be, nor true,
And your wish will come to you-
And if that makes you happy, kid,
You'll be the first it ever did.
poem by Dorothy Parker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Portrait of the Artist
Oh, lead me to a quiet cell
Where never footfall rankles,
And bar the window passing well,
And gyve my wrists and ankles.
Oh, wrap my eyes with linen fair,
With hempen cord go bind me,
And, of your mercy, leave me there,
Nor tell them where to find me.
Oh, lock the portal as you go,
And see its bolts be double....
Come back in half an hour or so,
And I will be in trouble.
poem by Dorothy Parker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Salute To Spring...Spring Time The Best Time
Spring in my step
Spring in the air
Spring!
Spring!
Lingering everywhere.
Spring fever to follow,
But I don't care,
Spring, for new journeys,
I'll meet you there!
Where?
By the garden gate,
You silly thing,
It's an invitation to frolic
So let's begin to sing.
It's Spring!
Written first day of Spring 2010
Dorothy Alves Holmes
A Poet Who Loves To Sing
poem by Dorothy Holmes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!