Under fire at home
At times your were extremely happy
and impulsive, sometimes morose,
withdrawn or suicidal
trying to hide from the world
or sometimes even aggressive.
Your Manic-Depressive Psychosis
needed a scapegoat
to whip, to burn with molten plastic,
to cut and stab with a knife
and to shoot at with a gun.
You told me
that you had cheated me
with another man
while I was busy
with the computer
and smashed your heels down
on some software
breaking compact disks and started
kicking at the SCSI drives
of the computer.
I got really angry and told you
that in my eyes
you were nothing more
than an unpaid whore.
You didn’t say anything at this
and walked to the bedroom
and I went to the bathroom
to brush my teeth
and get ready for bed.
I have never been closer to death
than when you (my now ex-wife)
with my 9 mm pistol
fired right through
the bathroom door.
Five shots rang out
and the magazine
had nine more
and the bullets were hollow point
and nickel-tipped mixed
and automatically I kept score.
It’s another thing
to be fired upon
by the enemy in war,
but when your wife
go totally nuts
and bullets fly
just past your head
and one brushes your arm
things are out of control.
I didn’t have time
to lock the bathroom door
and took cover
next to the bath
on the floor
and you opened that door
pushed the pistol
against my head
and said that you
would shoot me dead
and I could smell
the burnt gunpowder
but your youngest child
tried to cover me
with his small body.
I should have left you then
and there,
have called the cops,
have had you classified as mad
but love sometimes
doesn’t ask for intelligence
and outreaches problems
on its own.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Errata
When she burnt me, sliced me with a knife
took some shots
with the pistol
through the bathroom door
I should have left, should have walked out
should have started a new life,
should have left her then
but love is a damned thing
which ignores errors
and I kept on loving
even when she cheated me
with another man.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sapphire Bullets Of Pure Love
Pistol shots
Gun shots
Pistol shots
Gun shots
Bullets from a revolver
Bullets from a gun
Bullets through the atmosphere
Here they come
John, Ive been bad
And theyre coming after me
Done someone wrong
And I fear that it was me
Sapphire bullets
Bullets of pure love
Sapphire bullets
Bullets of pure love
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The game ranch
We went to visit my cousins
on their game ranch
and you hated it there
although every thing
was very comfortable
and you were well cared for.
What had set you off?
I still do not know,
but at breakfast you were already furious
although everybody
danced to serve and entertain you.
Was it the hunting tales
of the previous night
around the blazing big fire,
or the bush hog
that the Spaniard boasted
about killing,
which almost smashed him
of which his wife
had taken a video?
At the shooting range
some cool drink tins were set
and you didn’t want any help from me
and didn’t really listen
to the instructions from my cousins,
closing your eyes with every shot
that you took with the pistol
and missed every target by a mile.
I looked at the nine-millimetre pistol
with its missing front sight
and both my cousins smiled
as if conspiring with each other
and I clasped both hands together
in a well taught military hold
and your eyes went big,
almost popping out of your head
while the row of tins
was shot off
in what sounded like almost one shot.
On instruction I shot at the fallen tins
letting them jump into the air
until the magazine was empty
and the cousins
put matches standing up on bricks
and gave me a old.303 rifle
with an open sight.
I aimed carefully before pressing the trigger
and shot those matches down
and on your face
there was a frown
and even before we left
to go hunting
with some trackers
you looked at me
as if I had turned into a killer
and was going to shoot
at every living thing.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Hole in the Bathroom Wall
The cottage was old, it needed some work
The walls were of crumbling stone,
The windows, like eyes in a tumbledown Kirk
Were staring, like sockets of bone;
I hadn't much money, I hadn't much choice,
'I'll take it, ' I said to the man,
If only I'd known what the future would bring
I would never have shaken his hand.
My marriage had failed, I had my young son
Just three and a half in the spring,
We bought an old bed and a table, two chairs,
Drove up there and went to move in;
The floorboards were creaky, the walls were damp,
The place was as filthy as hell,
I sat the young lad on the floor by a lamp
And I cleaned, until darkness fell.
The rooms were all empty, they echoed and stirred,
I thought I heard whispers and moans,
The ghosts of the past tried to warn me, I guess,
I couldn't interpret their groans;
I tucked up the lad after dinner, in bed,
And I wandered the house overall,
Then checked out the water, and turning my head
Saw a hole in the bathroom wall.
It wasn't that big, but was over the bath,
I could see through the damp and the rot,
It wouldn't take that much to fill it, I thought,
Then I took a long walk, and forgot;
For days I was painting, cementing and fixing
The cracks were all over the place,
But never a thought of that hole in the wall -
To my ultimate shame, and disgrace.
Outside the cottage, a paddock ran back,
All burnt up and brown in the sun,
There wasn't a leaf or a stick that was green
The summer had barely begun;
Old pieces of iron lay thick on the ground
And lizards lay under their shade,
I should have been warned, but it just didn’t dawn
On me then, to my utter dismay.
A month had gone by, the weather was dry,
So hot that we suffered like hell,
I drew a warm bath, only tepid and low
So the lad could cool off for a spell,
I reached for a towel, but nothing was there,
I remembered it out on the line,
Then ran out the back to retrieve it, and saw
What has ever since haunted my mind.
For over behind the old cottage, there slid
A brown skinned, and hideous snake,
Six foot in length it ignored me and went
For the hole where the wall was baked,
Slowly its body slid into the hole
As I stood there just shaking in fear,
My beautiful baby was sat in the bath
As his deadly opponent drew near.
I ran through the door and I screamed as I ran,
I made for the bathroom door,
Everything seemed to go suddenly slow
As I slid on the muddy, wet floor,
I finally got to the bathroom door,
Reached out, as I started to fall,
The snake had reared up, preparing to strike
From the hole in the bathroom wall.
We often remember 'the day of the snake'
Since my son has grown taller than me,
He has this aversion to lizards and snakes,
And goanna's and skinks in the tree,
We regularly walk round the cottage and fix
Any cracks, any holes, overall;
I lost my right arm from the snake as it struck
From the hole in the bathroom wall.
12 March 2008
poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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\ Love \
He told the
Therapist
How vexed
He was
As his wife
Didn't feel
Sexed.
The therapist
Told him if he
Gave his wife
A lot of love
She would
Surely give him
Sex.
So now his
Wife feels
Ever so happy
Seeing her hubby
Falling head over heels
In love with her again…
After so many years
Of ‘busy'ness, finally
He has made the time
For her…
She's been
Telling the
Ladies of her
Kitty party,
Tales about this
New found love.
Alas! The gullible lass
Little does she know…
Why so? !
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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My Grandmother Would Drive
My grandmother could make a biscuit taste like steak.
And she did everything from 'scratch'.
Including making her own soap too.
The only thing I disliked,
That my Grandmother Clara ever did...
Was to get her driver's license.
My grandmother would drive,
And have an entire conversation...
Without looking at the road!
I had heard rumors of this...
But to witness it,
Was right out of Six Flags.
Or Disney World.
Don't ask me how she did this.
I was too busy trying to keep myself alive.
That 'imaginary' brake on the passenger side,
Of my grandmother's car...
Had worn a hole through the carpeted car floor.
And my grandmother never got a speeding ticket either.
She turned to me and asked why I had the door handle,
In my hand when speeding along the highway.
I did not realize I had pulled the handle from the door.
She frightened the 'hell' out of me.
'Grandma, I gotta use the bathroom.'
~And...? ~
'Pee.'
~You bet not be doin' that in my car, boy!
Why didn't you say somethin' when we were at the carwash? ~
'I didn't think I had to THEN, grandma.
But driving with you has proved me wrong.
I think I've got to throw up too! '
The only thing I disliked,
That my Grandmother Clara ever did...
Was to get her driver's license.
She said she didn't need to wait,
For my grandfather to take her anywhere...
She wanted to go.
And rarely did I see my grandmother,
Using the rearview mirror.
Or...
Keep her eyes on the road.
'Grandma, I gotta use the bathroom.
I'm serious.'
~And...? ~
'Pee.'
~You bet not be doin' that in my car, boy!
Why didn't you say somethin' when we were at the carwash?
You slowing me. You slowing me down. Geeesssshhh.
Precious Lord...hmmm hmmm...Lead me...hmmm.~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cover Me
The times are tough now, just getting tougher
This old world is rough, its just getting rougher
Cover me, come on baby, cover me
Well Im looking for a lover who will come on in and cover me
Promise me baby you wont let them find us
Hold me in your arms, lets let our love blind us
Cover me, shut the door and cover me
Well Im looking for a lover who will come on in and cover me
Outsides the rain, the driving snow
I can hear the wild wind blowing
Turn out the light, bolt the door
I aint going out there no more
This whole world is out there just trying to score
Ive seen enough I dont want to see any more,
Cover me, come on and cover me
Im looking for a lover who will come on in and cover me
Looking for a lover who will come on in and cover me
song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We R In Control
We control the data banks
We control the think tanks
We control the flow of air.
Were controlling traffic lights
We control computer flights
We control the chief of staff.
We control the tv sky
We control the fbi
We control the flow of heat.
Computer age in harms way.
We will prevail and perform our function
C.c.t.b.
Were controlling
Were controlling
We control.
Were controlling
We control.
We control.
We control you floor to floor
We control you door to door
Were controlling while you sleep
Computer age in harms way.
We will prevail and perform our function
C.c.t.b.
Computer age in harms way.
We will prevail and perform our function
C.c.t.b.
We are in control, we are in control, we are in control.
We are in control, we are in control, we are in control.
We are in control, we are in control, we are in control.
We are in control, we are in control, we are in control.
Chemical computer thinking battery.
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In Veronicas Head
He lifted her face from the pillow and said, baby such is life
And then he pushed his suitcase out through the door
And givem something to talk about
The door slammed, left a scar
Shed be damned she could see him in his car
So much for marriage and the good, good wife
Well, maybe its a fact of life
But in veronicas head the wheels were burning
Turning out of frustration
Veronicas bed mocked every private
Thing she said to the bastard
She dyed her hair black in the bathroom mirror
Hed liked it blonde on his wife
An act of independence, a small victory
Hey, it was something to shout about
Cause at night, shed crack
Shed feel his strong fingers raking down her back
Shed wake up angry, but turned on like a light
Yeah maybe its a fact of life
But in veronicas head the wheels were burning
Turning out of frustration
Veronica said, she would never be the same, no
But in veronicas head, the fields were burning
Burning down the destruction
She turns around, hes there
Confusing her with his promises
And crying on the telephone
She twists and she turns in circles
With all of her strength, she breaks free
She stumbles and she nearly falls
But in veronicas head the wheels were burning
Turning out of frustration
Veronica said she would never be the same, no
But in veronicas head the fields were burning
Burning down the destruction
Veronicas bed, she lies there listening
Late at night to her heartbeat, oooh
The wheels are turning
And in veronicas head the fields are burning
The wheels are turning
The fields are burning
song performed by by Rick Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Surprisingly Alive
Happiness is gone, it disappeared
It played me for years making me feel I deserved it
It was positive, and left me an optimist
I saw life through different eyes with happiness
It made me see what cannot be seen
It made me feel feelings I had not bothered to explore
I felt free beneath it's control
I felt invincible in it's arms
Happiness was my everything, it was my soul
It was what kept me moving forward
It was what made me want to live, to breath, to be
Then one day it left, it walked out on me
It left nothing behind but memories I could not have again
It walked out and never looked back
It walked out on me when I needed it the most
It pretended like nothing ever happened between us
Happiness kicked me towards sadness, it shoved me towards it
Then it left after it saw what happened
It got weak and left me alone
It left me crying behind the door
It left me bleeding on the bathroom floor
It left me wishing I had never lived
It left me screaming into my pillow in pain with sadness
It left me walking aimlessly at night with tears crawling down my face
It left me with the words 'I give up' floating above my head
It left me imagining what death would taste like
It left me cold, scared, hopeless, alone
It left...
poem by Mariam Abdelghani
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He Tells You He's A Player
Five days before my birthday I was sad as can be
I almost walked out the door
but I left something in the bathroom-
that's when I did see -something that didn't belong to me.
It belonged to another girl-it was a black bra—
I thought to myself -he doesn't care at all.
Thank God I didn't tell him it was my birthday week
I'm glad I kept it to myself and turned the other cheek.
He was too busy showing off and playing his own games
well I don't have time for stupid games I have to say.
When someone tells you that
"He is a Player"
You better take heed-
face reality and let your conscious take the lead.
Tread more carefully or End it right there—
this person is showing you they are truly not sincere.
Written by Christina Sunrise on March 11,2012
poem by Christina Sunrise
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Birth
he was born on a dark lonely night
and not a soul was in sight.
his mother was driving home
on that starry night, when she started
to feel the contractions.
she knew right then that she would
have to take action.
she pulled alongside that old country road
and her stomach she did hold
.
when she felt that waterbag bust
and in GOD she put her trust.
she asked the LORD what she should do
for she knew not what to do.
she heard a voice so soft and gentle
that told her to stay calm.
for this was a special child
that would be born this night
and that everything was going
to be allright.
she pushed the front seat back
as far as it would go
and took off her clothing so
that she could see.
the pains became so severe
and a head did appear.
she pushed with all her might
so that this child could be free.
for this was the way
it was meant to be.
as the child started to come out
from her lungs came a shout.
this child came out with such ease
and she felt a gentle breeze
as if it was a whisper upon her face
and she knew it was through GODS grace.
with a penknife she cut the cord.
and cleaned him up the best she could.
she wrapped him within her coat
and put the heater on
and drove back to a distant farm.
when she got to the farm
and banged upon the door.
when no one answered
she knealt down on the floor.
again she called upon the LORD
and asked what she should do.
he told her to look towads the barn
for there was a light as bright as day
and the farmer was baling hay.
as she got to the barn door
she collapsed in sheer exhaustion.
when she finally opened up her eyes
on the hay she did lay.
and beside her lay her child.
and the farmer told her she was
out for quite a while.
but the ambulance was on the way
and that he could not move her
in fear of jeopardizing her life
and that she was cleaned up
by his lovely wife.
now the farmers wife was
a religious woman
who believed that nothing
happens by chance.
and at this child she did glance.
she said that he had an aura
of light above his head
just like the bible which she had read.
she looked at this childs mother
and asked her this:
'is this coincidence or is this
a sign from above
that he would be in a barn
like christ was in the manger?
she recalled that gentle voice and
what it had said.
that a special child would be born on this night.
now you tell me.
was she wrong, or was she right?
poem by Louis Rams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Haunting
Sleep is an enemy these days
I sleep, I wake, I sleep, I wake
I look outside the window at the night
Sometimes I have such dreams
as vivid as the day, at other times
the dreams, they stay away.
It was a night of vivid dreams
I heard a noise downstairs, someone shuffling, rustling
I called, "Is someone there? "
Footsteps coming closer, passing by my door.
I heard the bathroom being used
and I called out some more.
The bedroom door creaked open,
she moved across the room, her face was so familiar
but I screamed and off she flew.
The face I saw was tired miserable and worn.
She seemed to be quite harmless
but still I was concerned
and later on that morning
as the sun rose in the sky, I realised who she was
and I breathed a heavy sigh.
The lady in my bedroom
was someone I knew well. It was me you see dear reader,
it seems I haunt myself
poem by Ruth Walters
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You know, Stephen says, in the movies no one ever goes to the bathroom. They shave, they brush their teeth. He goes right at this sort of funny taboo we have about the bathroom, and he turned it into this nightmare, you know, your worst fear of what's in there.
quote by Lawrence Kasdan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In The End
I Saw Red
Warrant
Oo it must be magic
How inside your eyes I see my destiny Every time we kiss
I feel you breathe your love to deep inside of me
And if the moon and stars should fall
They'd be east to replace
I would lift you up to heaven
And you would take their place
Then I saw red
When I opened up the door
I saw red
Heart just spilled on to the floor
And I didn't need to see his face
I saw yours
I saw red then I closed the door
I don't think I'm gonna love you anymore
Everyday I wake up
I thank God that you are
Still a part of me
Opened up the door to which
So many people never find the way
Snd if the sun
Should ever fail to send its light
We will burn a thousand candles
And make everything alright
Then I saw red
Wnen I opened up the door
I saw red
Heart just spilled onto the floor
And I didn't need to see his face
I saw yours
I saw red then I closed the door
I don't think I'm gonna love you anymore
I've been hurt
And I've been blind
I'm not sure that I'll be fine
I never thought it would
End this way
Oo it must be magic
song performed by by Warrant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Dying Gamblers Story
In a little secret Gambling house in a city known for fame
There sits a man of tender years his head bowed down in shame
That young man told a story as sad as can be
And if you will but listen this is what he said to me.
A year ago I had a wife but she was called one day
And as she lay so near to death she pressed my hand to say
I'm giving you my wedding ring to cherish all your life
And with these words the reaper called away my loving wife.
Soon I started gambling til I never had a thing
And on a hand I thought would win I bet my dead wife's ring
I drew the card and looked at it, Oh God I cried aloud
I've lost my dead wife's wedding ring to this drunken jeering around.
When he had finished speaking he bowed his head and sighed
And we who heard his story knew that he had died
But that dying gamblers story didn't mean a thing
Too bad they said, dealt the cards, and bet his dear wife's ring.
poem by Kenneth T. Schofield
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Volleys Of Shots Rang Out As We Stormed
Volleys of shots rang out as we stormed,
the trenches that were meandering formed,
in the distance snipers were firing from a wall
into the cover of the nearest ditch we did fall.
A trooper next to me suddenly smiled
and everywhere around us was death’s smell,
the winter sun was very weak but mild
while our ears sang from a mortar shell.
In succession into the trench we did leap,
I fired from the hip from the point of entry,
the light machinegun did chattering sweep
in a enemy camp in a bordering country
where as soldiers we had parachuted in
and a passing bullet burnt my arm’s skin.
poem by Gert Strydom
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I Saw Red
Ooh, it must be magic
How inside your eyes, I see my destiny
And every time we kiss, I feel you
Breathe your love so deep inside of me
If the moon and stars should fall
They'd be easy to replace
I would lift you up to heaven
And you would take their place
(Chorus): And I saw red when I opened up the door
I saw red, my heart just spilled onto the floor
And I didn't need to see his face...
Cause I saw yours
I saw red and then I closed the door
And I don't think I'm gonna love you anymore
And every day I wake up
I thank God that you are still a part of me
We've opened up the door to it
So many people never find the key
And if the sun should ever fail to send its light
We would burn a thousand candles
And make everything alright
Chorus
I've been hurt, I've been blind
I'm not sure that I'll be fine
I never thought it would end this way
Cause I saw red when I opened up the door
I saw red, my heart just spilled onto the floor
And I didn't need to see his face
Oh, I saw yours
I saw red and then I closed the door
And I don't think I'm gonna love you anymore...
Yeah... ooh, it must be magic...
song performed by by Warrant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Didn't I
I gave my heart and soul to you, girl
(Now didn't I do it, baby, didn't I do it, baby?)
Gave you the love you never knew, girl, oh
(Didn't I do it baby, didn't I do it baby?)
I've cried so many times and that's no lie
It seems to make you laugh each time I cry
Chorus:
Didn't I blow your mind this time
Didn't I
Didn't I blow your mind this time
Didn't I, this time?
I thought that heart of yours was true, girl
(Now, didn't I think it, baby, didn't I think it, baby?)
But this time I'm really leaving you girl, oh
(Hope you know it, baby, hope you know it, baby)
Ten times or more, yes, I walked out that door
Get this into your head, there'll be no more
Chorus
(Didn't I do it baby, didn't I do it baby?)
(Didn't I do it baby, didn't I do it baby?)
Ten times or more, yes, I walked out that door
Get this into your head, there'll be no more
Chorus Ad lib
Spoken:
Girl, can we talk for a second?
(Baby can we talk)
I know it's been a long time
Since someone blew your mind, like I did
(Ooh, baby)
But there'll be other times
(Didn't I blow your mind it happens all the time)
For me and you
(All the time)(Ooh, baby)
And I can see the tears fallin' from your eyes
(I can see the tears falling from your eyes)
Tell me girl did I blow your mind?
Chorus and fade
song performed by by New Kids On The Block
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Gunpowder
I asked my mother why do you cry
She said your brother had... he just died
Well I told him not to go outside
He said he had to fight for his countrys right
But dont you know that mo-mother
Dont you know that we cant stop the violence, no
Because the war is not over
Until you can feel love, peace, and hear silence
But I smell gunpowder (pow)
My brothers been dead ever since
I didnt beleive it, but when I saw him I was convinced
Two shots to the head he was already dead lord,
I headed for revenge in the city of port au prince
Screaming bro-brother
Dont you know that we cant stop the violence, no
Because the war is not over
Until you can feel love, peace, and hear silence
But I smell gunpowder (pow)
Zions gunpowder (pow)
L.a.s gunpowder (pow)
I wanna know why
Christians pray for a new day
We dont need no, we dont need no, we dont need no
But its still the same way
I wanna know why
Ghetto people pray for a new day
Hey, hey, heeey
And its still the same way
But the preacher man told me
Good things come to those who wait
Do good things come to those who wait?
I wanna know tell me
Good things come to those who wait
Do good things come to those who wait?
We wanna know, we wanna know, we wanna know [pause]
Pe-people
Dont you know that we cant stop the violence, no
Because the war is not over
Until you can feel love, peace, and hear the silence
But I smell gunpowder (gunpowder)
Brooklyns gunpowder (gunpowder)
Shaolins gunpowder (gunpowder)
Uptowns gunpowder (gunpowder)
Jerseys gunpowder (gunpowder)
Even new zealands gunpowder (gunpowder)
Australias gunpowder (gunpowder)
Brixtons gunpowder (gunpowder)
Even new havens gunpowder
song performed by by Wyclef Jean
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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