En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Daddy's late?

I know a man who has two drinks
then talks like he's had ten.
It isn't long before he thinks
'I'll have two more, again.'

And so the day goes two by two
a chaser and a beer.
He talks to folks, he seems to know,
whose names just disappear.

The drink is like a dagger
nestling snuggly in his back
I've never seen him stagger
but his tongue gets awful slack.

I've never seen him carried out
nor fall down on his knees,
but I have seen, without a doubt
the worst of his disease.

For I have seen the soiled stains
when fumbling with his flies
and I have heard my mother's pains
unravelling his lies.

But worse by far than all he does
is what he never says.
The scar of disappointment was
carved in his daughter's face.

poem by Hola Mentirosa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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She Talks About Love

Once in a lifetime....
Down at the end, the end of the line
There's a girl who waits for love
She is the one he's hoping for
But there's another one she's thinking of
She doesn't know his name, doesn't know his face
She'll recognize the feeling in any case
She'll be swept away by the flies inside
Make her beautiful, make her come alive
She talks about love, nobody listens
She talks about love, nobody cares
She talks about love, nobody listens
She talks about love, she believes in love
She falls and she falls but never laughs
In the arms of the one she wants
Fights for a dream she's never seen
In a world of rocks and stones
Ands she knows it's there, knows it does exist
A feeling oh so real, almost divine bliss
Takes her breath away, a gem beyond compare
Makes her weak in the knees, she knows that love is rare
She talks about love, nobody listens
She talks about love, nobody cares
She talks about love, nobody listens
She talks about love, she believes in love
The measure of time
Will prevent what's mine
She believes in once upon a time
Once in a lifetime
She talks about love, nobody listens
She talks about love, nobody cares
She talks about love, nobody listens
She talks about love, she believes in love
She talks about love, nobody listens
She talks about love, nobody cares
She talks about love, nobody listens
She talks about love, she believes in love

song performed by by Vitamin C
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dolly Dagger

Here comes dolly dagger
Her loves so heavy, gonna make you stagger.
Dolly dagger, she drinks her blood from a jagged edge...
Been riding broomsticks since she was fifteen
Blow out all the other witches on the scene.
She got a bull whip, just as long as your life.
Her tongue can even scratch
The soul out of the devils wife.

song performed by by Jimi Hendrix
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Money Talks

Scene: into flashs den - a night club
Scene: in flashs den, a night club partly converted into an office.
Sung by flash, floosies and spivs:
Show me a man who says he can live without bread
And Ill show you a man whos a liar and in debt.
Theres no one alive who cant be purchased or enticed
Theres no man alive who wouldnt sell for a price,
Money talks and were the living proof,
There aint no limit to what money can do
Money talks, money talks.
Money cant breathe and money cant see,
But when I pull out a fiver people listen to me.
Money cant run and money cant walk,
But when I write out a cheque I swear to God I hear money talk.
Money talks and, baby, when youve been bought
You pay attention everytime money talks.
Money talks, money talks.
Money talks and theres no doubt about it
Money talks and we cant live without it,
Whats the point of living unless youve got money?
I just couldnt function without money.
Money talks, money talks,
Money talks, money talks.
Show me an upright respected man
And Ill have him licking my boots when I put money in his hand.
It rots your heart, it gets to your soul,
Before you know where you are youre a slave to the green gold.
Money talks and were the living proof
There aint no limit to what money can do.
Money talks you out of your self-respect,
The more you crave it the cheaper you get.
Money talks, money talks.
Money buys you time and people listen,
Money can buy a smile and make life worth living.
If youre ugly money can improve you.
I just couldnt face the world without mazuma.
Money talks, money talks.

song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Suffering Of A Mother

the rough texture of her bleeding suffering hands
touch the wet blanket from the laundry
her stomach suffers from hunger
not spending a single penny
just to save money for her daughter
for whom she thinks is
in college studying hard in order to graduate

but the mistakes of her daughter, makes this mother unfortunate
for every dropp of beer that goes onto her throat
is equal to every dropp of sweat that falls from her mothers face
her mother suffers from loneliness in a far away place
where she thought she'd have a lot of money

sick of loneliness, hunger and pain
her mother comes home from Spain
dropping her luggage
her mother screams of fear
seeing the sight of her daughter drinking beer
humiliation slaps unto her daughter's face

her mother goes to her room in a hurry
only to see a cradle, her daughter has a baby
she cries in pain
where to start, she doesn't know
for all she knows is her heart is in sorrow
she cant accept the fact that she suffered for so long
only to know she's been fooled for too long

poem by Trisha Mae Galia
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Suspicion minded men and women suffer in life

Suspicion minded men and women suffer in life,
Suspect is an incurable disease of mind,
There is no medicine for such patients to find,
It is the worst septic of mind to husband and wife,
Broad minded people always live a life of gay,
In any society or family suspect has no respect,
Many families have been divided by suspect,
Suspect brings in us impurity of mind day by day,
Suspected husband and wife doubt one another,
They will have no peace of mind time to time at all,
Husband must not doubt to his wife if she talks to other,
She too may not doubt if he talks with a girl in any hall,
The couple of good character will never bother,
Suspect divides the hearts and builds a hatred wall.

poem by INDIA Mazid S Kazi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Talking.... (Who Listens?)

even the silence of the night talks,
small children talk in their dreams;
old people talk staring out windows...
trees talk shedding leaves,
empty buildings talk to ghosts;
dead bones talk to the wind...
the wind talks those who mourn.
the hungry talk to their oppressors,
the prisoner talks to the walls.
the desperate talk to the noose,
lovers talk with simple touch.
soldiers talk to their fears,
the unborn talk to our decisions.
the moon talks to the night,
and the night talks to the dawn.
the soul of man talks,
and calls it god.
the conscience talks to the heart.
death talks to the living....
who listens?
who really hears?

poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Poet Talks To Himself

A poet talks to himself
And hears his own praises
And does not believe them.

A poet talks to himself
And hears a critical word
And knows he is right.

A poet talks to himself
And imagines others are listening
And love his dreams as if they were their own –

A poet talks to himself
And in the talking plays
In many voices -

A poet talks to himself
And in talking to himself
Feels more and more alone -
Where are the holy listeners?
Where is the love which is not absurd?

A poet talks to himself
And prays he is secretly being overheard-
And wonders why God should want words
From a mortal so small.

poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Industrial Disease

Warning lights are flashing down at quality control
Somebody threw a spanner and they threw him in the hole
Theres rumors in the loading bay and anger in the town
Somebody blew the whistle and the walls came down
Theres a meeting in the boardroom theyre trying to trace the smell
Theres leaking in the washroom theres a sneak in personnel
Somewhere in the corridors someone was heard to sneeze
goodness me could this be industrial disease?
The caretaker was crucified for sleeping at his post
Theyre refusing to be pacified its him they blame the most
The watchdogs got rabies the foremans got fleas
And everyones concerned about industrial disease
Theres panic on the switchboard tongues are ties in knots
Some come out in sympathy some come out in spots
Some blame the management some the employees
And everybody knows its the industrial disease
The work force is disgusted downs tools and walks
Innocence is injured experience just talks
Everyone seeks damages and everyone agrees
That these are classic symptoms of a monetary squeeze
On itv and bbc they talk about the curse
Philosophy is useless theology is worse
History boils over theres an economics freeze
Sociologists invent words that mean industrial disease
Doctor parkinson declared Im not surprised to see you here
Youve got smokers cough from smoking, brewers droop from drinking beer
I dont know how you came to get the betty davis knees
But worst of all young man youve got industrial disease
He wrote me a prescription he said you are depressed
But Im glad you came to see me to get this off your chest
Come back and see me later - next patient please
Send in another victim of industrial disease
I go down to speakers corner Im thunderstruck
They got free speech, tourists, police in trucks
Two men say theyre jesus one of them must be wrong
Theres a protest singer singing a protest song - he says
they wanna have a war to keep us on our knees
They wanna have a war to keep their factories
They wanna have a war to stop us buying japanese
They wanna have a war to stop industrial disease
Theyre pointing out the enemy to keep you deaf and blind
They wanna sap your energy incarcerate your mind
They give you rule brittania, gassy beer, page three
Two weeks in espana and sunday striptease
Meanwhile the first jesus says Id cure it soon
Abolish monday mornings and friday afternoons
The other ones on a hunger strike hes dying by degrees
How come jesus gets industrial disease

song performed by by Dire Straits
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Image Of Me

Yes I know shes the life of the party
And without her things here would die
Oh but dont you be fooled by her laughter
She has her sad times, she knows how to cry
She drinks and she talks just a little too long
And with her bride gone shell tag along with any old crowd
Yes I know Im to blame and I feel so ashamed
That Ive made her the image of me
Well I met her in a little country town
She was simple and old-fashioned in some ways
And she loved me til I dragged her down
Then she gave up and drifted away
She drinks and she talks just a little too long
And with her bride gone shell tag along with any old crowd
Yes I know Im to blame and I feel so ashamed
That Ive made her the image of me

song performed by by Tom Petty
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Behind Closed Doors.

Miss Bundlestun watches the man
Next door go down the path to his
Car open the door climb in slam the
Door look up at her and give her an
Up you gesture with his middle finger
Then drive off. She lets the curtains
Fall back in place wondering if the
Gesture was for real or just a signal of
The common lot seen too often in the
Streets below even by the young who
Pass her by with gestures of the fingers
Or spew of tongue. He plays jazz on his
Hifi loud not quite to her taste and she
Often bangs on his door and shouts her
Complaints of noise or rowdiness from
Parties held all night. Her mother says
Nothing but sits silent in her dull armchair.
There is a clinging smell of decay in the air.
She denies the factor of her mother’s death.
She sits and talks or reads the news to her
Mother’s corpse dressed in last month’s cloth
And wasting skin. She thinks her mother (as she
Used to be) resides biting her tongue within.

poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Money Talks

(myles goodwyn)
Published by northern goody two tunes, ltd./capac - ascap
I work so hard just to get along
Before I know it, all the moneys gone
I do my best just to make headway
And save some money for a rainy day
If money talks, its not talkin to me, if money talks, I said
If money talks, its not talkin to me, if money talks
If money can talk, lets talk
If money can talk, we should talk, talk about it
If money can talk, lets talk
If money can talk, we should talk
I find it rough just to pay the rent
Before I know it all the moneys spent
I work hard and toe the line
And learn to take one day at a time
If money talks, its not talkin to me, if money talks, I said
If money talks, its not talkin to me, if money talks
If money can talk, lets talk
If money can talk, we should talk, talk about it
If money can talk, lets talk
If money can talk, lets talk
We pay our taxes just like they say
And man it hurts to give the money away
A penny saved, a penny earned
You do your best, and you still get burned
If money talks, its not talkin to me, if money talks, I said
If money talks, its not talkin to me, if money talks
I work so hard, just like you (just like you)
But someday thingsll change
If money can talk, this is it
If money can talk, lets talk
If money can talk, we should talk, talk about it
If money can talk, lets talk
If money can talk, we should talk

song performed by by April Wine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Suffocated

Millie Allstruck suffocated
Her daughter. Millie held
The cushion down. Saw her
Daughter’s arms flap like
Some bird in a trap. Millie
Held her breath for as long
As she could, until the arms
Stopped flapping, until her
Bird was dead. She stood
There holding the cushion
In place waiting for sounds,
Any motion. Millie removed
The cushion, stood gaping,
Holding the cushion, breathing
In deep. Her daughter lay there
Staring into space, a sense of
Peace on her three year old face.
Millie had pushed out the cancer,
Put out the fire. She had her
Daughter back sans pains, sans
The creeping disease, sans
The long nights. She put down
The cushion, placed her daughter’s
Arms across her small chest, closed
The eyes, brushed the hair, thin
And fair. Millie Allstruck stood
And watched and saw sunlight
Touch her daughter’s head as if
The finger of God had touched
And took away. Better to have
Loved and lost than not loved at all,
Millie heard her mother once say.

poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Tonight

Pop/bowie
I saw my baby, she was turning blue
I knew that soon her young life was through
And so I got down on my knees down by her bed
And these are the words to her I said
Everything will be all right tonight
Everything will be all right tonight
No one moves, no one talks
No one thinks, no one walks tonight
Everyone will be all right tonight
Everyone will be all right tonight
No one moves, no one talks
No one thinks, no one walks
Tonight, tonight
I am gonna love her to the end.
I am gonna love her to the end.
I will love her til I die
I will see her in the sky
Tonight, tonight...

song performed by by Iggy Pop
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A poem for Wantok about loneliness

Wan
Tok
Wan
Tok
Three

One
Talks
To
A
Tree

One talks to a tree. She has nobody.
The tree talks to her. She has gone crazy.

Isn’t it lonely?
It could be more. It is in fact tragedy.

One two three. One two three.
Want to tree. Want to be a tree.
Want to talk to a tree. Wane to tree.

Wantok talks to a tree. She has nobody.
That could be a phenomenology.

Wantok talks to a tree.
She has nobody.
Birds flew away.
The clouds drift away.
The sun sets on the park
Wantok still stands.

Wantok talks to a tree.
Indeed that is very lonely.
what a tragedy.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My American Niece The Talker

She plays with her dolls hours on in
singing them songs that
never end.
Wishing on them when missing
their feet to go to a doctor to
get a sweet treat.
Ever moving she talks walks talks
television on she turns it off
yes she talks
Even after tiredness over takes her
eyes glazed over in rapture
she talks.
Time doesn't matter to the talker of dolls
every one learned to walk and talk.

poem by Is It Poetry
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Chameleon

As the Chameleon, who is known
To have no colours of his own,
But borrows from his neighbour's hue
His white or black, his green or blue,
And struts as much in ready light,
Which credit gives him upon sight,
As if the rainbow were entail
Settled on him and his heirs-male;
So the young 'squire, when first he comes
From country school to Will's or Tom's,
And equally in truth is fit
To be a statesman or a wit,
Without one notion of his own,
He saunters wildly up and down,
Till some acquaintance good or bad,
Takes notice of a staring lad,
Admits him in among the gang;
They jest, reply, dispute, harangue;
He acts and talks as they befriend him,
Smear'd with the colours which they lend him.

Thus merely as his fortune chances
His merit or his vice advances.

If haply the sect pursues
That read and comment upon news,
He takes up their mysterious face;
He drinks his coffee without lace:
This week his mimic tongue runs o'er
What they had said the week before;
His wisdom sets all Europe right,
And teaches Marlborough when to fight.

Or if it be his fate to meet
With folks who have more wealth than wit,
He loves cheap Port and double bub,
And settles in the Humdrum club:
He learns how stocks will fall or rise;
Holds poverty the greatest vice;
Thinks wit the bane of conversation,
And says that learning spoils a nation.

But if at first he minds his hits,
And drinks Champaigne among the wits,
Five deep he toasts the towering lasses,
Repeats yon verse wrote on glasses:
Is in the chair, prescribes the law,
And lies with those he never saw.

poem by Matthew Prior
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pathetic Contenders

clinton she talks like
a conceited maid
in the white house
fighting for a raise

obama he talks like
a man who needs
more assurance
he has improved
though - thanks
to the votes for
coming in

mccain he talks
like a man who
has had it all

poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Death Of Goddesses

It used to be hard
for women,
snowed in their white lives,
white lies,
to write books
with that fine frenzy
which commends genius
to posterity,
yet estranges it
from its closest
friends.

Women were friends to all,
& being too friendly
they could not command
the unfriendly prerogatives
of genius,
though some were
geniuses still,
destroying
only themselves
with the torment
of the unfriendly ghost
trapped in a friendly
form.

Oh the women who died
dissembling friendship
for the world!
Oh the women who turned
the dagger inward
when it wished
to go out,
who impaled themselves
on Womanhood itself!

No vampire
could be
as greedy for blood,
no father or husband
as bullying.
A woman punishing herself
with her own pain
is a fierce opponent indeed.

It is self against self,
dagger to dagger,
blood of her blood,
blood of her daughter,
blood of her mother,
her menses, her moon,
all pooled together,
one crimson sea.

It is the awful auto da fé,
the sublime seppuku,
Sante Sebastiana
as archer
& victim too.

The arrow flies from her bow.
She runs, fleet as Diana,
& stops it
with her breast.

Enough!
cried the Women-Who-Cared.
Henceforth we will turn
our anger where it belongs.
We will banish the whitest lies.
We will speak the black truth as it is.
Our father- we spit back their sperm.
Our husbands- we spit back their names.
Our brothers- we suck back our love.

The self-righteous inherit the earth,
& anger speaks louder that love.
Love is a softness
the weak cannot afford,
& sex a Darwinian bribe.

But who wants the earth as a gift
when it is empty as space,
when women grow hard
as bronze madonnas
& Diana loves only her stag?

When Persephone stays in hell
the entire year,
then how can spring
begin?

poem by Erica Jong
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She Talks To Angels

She never mentions the word addiction
In certain company
Yes, shell tell you shes an orphan
After you meet her family
She paints her eyes as black as night, now
Pulls those shades down tight
Yeah, she gives a smile when the pain comes,
The pains gonna make everything alright
Says she talks to angels,
They call her out by her name
She talks to angels,
Says they call her out by her name
She keeps a lock of hair in her pocket
She wears a cross around her neck
Yes, the hair is from a little boy
And the cross is someone she has not met, not yet
Says she talks to angels,
Says they all know her name
Oh yeah, she talks to angels,
Says they call her out by her name
She dont know no lover,
None that I ever seen
Yes, to her that aint nothing
But to me, yeah me,
Its everything
She paints her eyes as black as night now
She pulls those shades down tight
Oh yeah, theres a smile when the pain comes,
The pains gonna make everything alright, alright yeah
She talks to angels,
Says they call her out by her name
Oh yeah, yeah, angels
Call her out by her name
Oh, angels
They call her out by her name
Oh, she talks to angels
They call her out
Yeah, they call her out
Dont you know that they call her out by her name

song performed by by Black Crowes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Straight Talk

You say youre well and satisfied,
But your body tells me something else.
What is it, baby? tell me, tell me,
Speak up, give it to me straight
Or well never know what you think or what you want.
She says shes truly gratified,
But her voice tells me something else.
What is it, baby? tell me, tell me,
Speak up, give it to me straight
Or well never know how you feel or what you want.
Unless we teach each other what we really feel,
How are we gonna communicate and get ourselves together?
He says hes never petrified,
But his eyes tells me something else.
What is it, baby? tell me, tell me,
Speak up, give it to me straight
Or well never know what you need or what you want.
Unless we teach each other what we really feel,
How are we gonna communicate and get ourselves together?
Im watching your body talk,
Im listening to your double talk.
Straight talks the only way,
Straight talks the shortest way
For you and i.
Im watching your body talk,
Im listening to your double talk.
Straight talks the only way,
Straight talks the shortest way
Then the world is one.
(straight talks the only way)
(straight talks the shortest way)
(straight talks the only way)
(straight talks the shortest way)
(straight talks the only way)
(straight talks the shortest way)
(straight talks the only way)
(straight talks the shortest way)
(straight talks the only way)
(straight talks the shortest way)
(straight talks the only way)
(straight talks the shortest way)

song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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