Domestic Shades 9
Tea Time
12 to 2pm intermission to rest
Often interrupted by beggars, salesmen, and post
A silent cry to ease within I hear
What to do I have to bear
Morning session of daily chores
Bound to duties hectic pressure soars
A nap, a relaxation I do anticipate
Only in vain; said reason I get upset
Groggy, sleepy in the kitchen I'm back
To make a tea-time snack
11am to 3pm a solemn nap for hubby
3o'clock set ready everything by wife sleepy
Table, full of yester and yester to yester
Grubs, biscuits and like eatables only better
Why the hell should I make again
Just to keep a remainder- bin
A zapper rolling before the tv is me
Passed 3pm eat or not would he?
Waiting..waiting..yes or no hubby?
poem by Indira Renganathan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Yesterme Yesteryou Yesterday
What happened to the world we knew
When we would dream and scheme
And while the time away
Yesterme yesteryou yesterday
Where did it go that yester glow
When we could feel
The wheel of life turn our way
Yesterme yesteryou yesterday
I had a dream so did you life
Was warm and love was true
Two kids who followed all the rules
Yester folls and now
Now it seems those yester dreams
Were just a cruel
And foolish game we used to play
Yesterme yesteryou yesterday
When I recall what we had
I feel lost I feel sad with nothing but
The memory of yester love and now
Now it seems those yester dreams
Were just a cruel
And foolish game we had to play
Yesterme yesteryou yesterday
Yesterme yesteryou yesterday
Sing with me
Yesterme yesteryou yesterday
One more time.....
song performed by by Stevie Wonder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sleepy Time Time
By jack bruce and janet godfrey
Im a sleepy time baby, a sleepy time boy.
Work only maybe, life is a joy.
Well have a sleepy time time.
Well have a sleepy time time.
Well have a sleepy time time.
Well have a sleepy time time.
Sleepy time time, sleepy time all the time.
Asleep in the daytime, asleep at night.
Life is all playtime; working aint right.
Chorus
I have my sunday, that aint no lie.
But on monday morning comes my favorite cry.
Chorus
song performed by by Cream
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sleepy Time Time
By jack bruce and janet godfrey
Im a sleepy time baby, a sleepy time boy.
Work only maybe, life is a joy.
Well have a sleepy time time.
Well have a sleepy time time.
Well have a sleepy time time.
Well have a sleepy time time.
Sleepy time time, sleepy time all the time.
Asleep in the daytime, asleep at night.
Life is all playtime; working aint right.
Chorus
I have my sunday, that aint no lie.
But oh monday morning aint my favorite cry.
Chorus
song performed by by Eric Clapton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sleepy Time Girl (Song) :
Sleepy time girl.She never gets her rest.
Sleepy time girl.She never does her best.
At anything!
Sleepy time girl.She's never on the ball.
Sleepy time girl.Her words! They're always
off the wall.
That little sleepy time girl.
Sleepy time girl.Sleepy time girl.
She's always late for school.
Sleepy time girl.
She never ever seems to care.
That little sleepy time girl..
Short-Song-Poem By Kim Robin Edwards
Copyright 1986,2009..
ALL rights reserved..
poem by Kim Robin Edwards
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Villonaud for This Yule
Towards the Noel that morte saison
(Christ make the shepherds' homage dear!)
Then when the grey wolves everychone
Drink of the winds their chill small-beer
And lap o' the snows food's gueredon
Then makyth my heart his yule-tide cheer
(Skoal! with the dregs if the clear be gone!)
Wineing the ghosts of yester-year.
Ask ye what ghost I dream upon?
(What of the magians' scented gear?)
The ghosts of dead loves everyone
That make the stark winds reek with fear
Lest love return with the foison sun
And slay the memories that me cheer
(Such as I drink to mine fashion)
Wineing the ghosts of yester-year.
Where are the joys my heart had won?
(Saturn and Mars to Zeus drawn near!)
Where are athe lips mine lay upon,
Aye! where are the glances feat and clear
That bade my heart his valor don?
I skoal to the eyes as grey-blown meer
(Who knows whose was that paragon?)
Wineing the ghosts of yester-year.
Prince: ask me not what I have done
Nor what God hath that can me cheer
But ye ask first where the winds are gone
Wineing the ghosts of yester-year.
poem by Ezra Pound
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The Ballad of Dead Ladies
Tell me now in what hidden way is
Lady Flora the lovely Roman?
Where's Hipparchia, and where is Thais,
Neither of them the fairer woman?
Where is Echo, beheld of no man,
Only heard on river and mere--
She whose beauty was more than human?--
But where are the snows of yester-year?
Where's Heloise, the learned nun,
For whose sake Abeillard, I ween,
Lost manhood and put priesthood on?
(From Love he won such dule and teen!)
And where, I pray you, is the Queen
Who willed that Buridan should steer
Sewed in a sack's mouth down the Seine?--
But where are the snows of yester-year?
White Queen Blanche, like a queen of lilies,
With a voice like any mermaiden--
Bertha Broadfoot, Beatrice, Alice,
And Ermengarde the lady of Maine--
And that good Joan whom Englishmen
At Rouen doomed and burned her there--
Mother of God, where are they then?--
But where are the snows of yester-year?
Nay, never ask this week, fair lord,
Where they are gone, nor yet this year,
Except with this for an overword--
But where are the snows of yester-year?
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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The Ballad of Dead Ladies (Ballade des dames du temps jadis)
Tell me now in what hidden way is
Lady Flora the lovely Roman?
Where's Hipparchia, and where is Thais,
Neither of them the fairer woman?
Where is Echo, beheld of no man,
Only heard on river and mere--
She whose beauty was more than human?--
But where are the snows of yester-year?
Where's Heloise, the learned nun,
For whose sake Abeillard, I ween,
Lost manhood and put priesthood on?
(From Love he won such dule and teen!)
And where, I pray you, is the Queen
Who willed that Buridan should steer
Sewed in a sack's mouth down the Seine?--
But where are the snows of yester-year?
White Queen Blanche, like a queen of lilies,
With a voice like any mermaiden--
Bertha Broadfoot, Beatrice, Alice,
And Ermengarde the lady of Maine--
And that good Joan whom Englishmen
At Rouen doomed and burned her there--
Mother of God, where are they then?--
But where are the snows of yester-year?
Nay, never ask this week, fair lord,
Where they are gone, nor yet this year,
Save with thus much for an overword--
But where are the snows of yester-year?
poem by François Villon from The Testament (1461), translated by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Submitted by anonym
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Another Him
stepping
back in
time
realizing
yester-year.
in a silent
state
holding
back a
tear.
as before
this rehlm
some other
time
another-him.
poem by Heather Burns
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Chennai To Nellai By Car
Propitiated dawn of the month'Aadi'
Declared 'open sesame' in brahminical way
Feeding the ancestral soarers ceremonially
After which
Hubby took me cabbed
To run onNH45 -NH7
Primarily amid time-eating Chennai traffic
Which tremored his whole of nerves
To rush fast past Chennai
Then to accompany a professional driver
At Viluppuram
Who drove crash-dash mode
To atone for the wasted hours
On a day of my fasting
Drastically to meet a 'break-down'
Past Tiruchi
Where time ate well two hours of sun
Which kept on bullying hubby dear and that driver
And while they were hunting for help
I resorted to deduct my abstinence to fifty percent
And started munching all the daughter-given fruits
And before hubby could crumble his anger between his teeth
A mechanic rescued reparing the car
And in the silent ordeal of delayed travelling
The trees-marathon compromised timely however
That a tamarind tree hosted meals under its shade
After which rest of our running
Bore a squat-recline sleeper snoring at the back seat
Which frightened me so darkened
To sit next to though-known driver
Who was witching the black NH7 running
Whizzingly up to Nellai
And on reaching home sleepy smiles slept
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Tomorrow
We don’t know what tomorrow may bring
But we want something that will make our hearts sing.
And the things that will make our hearts sing
Is the beautiful memories that it brings.
What is tomorrow but another day
Another day of living, another day of giving
Another day of sharing, another day of caring.
All of our tomorrows will be yesterdays
And all our yesterdays are our pasts
And it will be another memory that will last.
Watching all the Doo wop groups of yester year
On wpbt made me feel old as can be.
With each tomorrow brings you closer to old age
And your life will never be the same.
I will take all my tomorrows and hold them
Like a newborn child, and give thanks to god above
For showing me how to love.
And when my tomorrows become my yester years
With everyone that I know, these memories I will share.
poem by Louis Rams
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Sri Rama Jayam
Evokes chanting of my 'RamRam'
Picking up Pavalamalli flowers at 6a.m
A good day ahead
My regular counts of SriRamajayam
After a hectic kitchen record at 9.30a.m
Inking out in words in a note book
And on a day of submission...
'Before pooja almirah supporting me a mat-seater
My concentration grips Rama better
Although bossing over my anger to fade out
As the maid keeps sweeping
Dust from the broom splattering
Without a divine heart for the sacred book
I say sorry to Rama
Chuck out myself of the room
To make coffee for the lady-broom
And give up not; I further continue with Rama
Sitting in the chair in the porch in silence
A while later hubby next glances
Brunch ready?
Rush to the dining table
Hubby relishes his pappads crumble
Hmm.. I say sorry to Rama
Back to pooja almirah
Sit up to pursue Rama
But oops, a phone call
Daughter! And hubby is hysterical
Me too driven towards grand-son's prattle
Forget myself and quite unaware
But soon conscience pricks
Work be soon finished for Rama's blessing looks
Should submit it to the Lord
I say sorry to Rama
Sit back to my writing
Lunch time past; Yet mind not skipping
Write and write on
Rama must be invisibly looking at me
My hope, Anjaneya recommends me
By 4p.m complete my work
March on to the temple
Hand over my book so humble
Pray with closed eyes
Finally blessed with ' prasadh' when awake.
But lo, the wrapper to shake
A piece of Ramajayam-paper...
I look at the Lord so puzzled
But He, smiling as He ever has stood
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Sleepy Head
Terry widlake
Sleepy head isnt it time that you were in your bed?
The sandman will be coming soon, with a dream or two
Perhaps tomorrow they will all come true
Ooh sleepy head whispering all the things that we left unsaid
And so its time to make your weary way into a brand new day, tomorrow
The little pigs were certain that the wolf was here to stay
But in your dreams youll chase that wolf away
Hey sleepy head the princess has been saved and the dragons dead
Goodnight, and may God keep you in his sight
Safe until the early light, sleepy head, sleepy head, sleepy head.....
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When It's Sleepy Time Down South
Pale moon shining on the fields below
Folks are crooning songs soft and low
Needn't tell me so because I know
It's sleepy time down south
Soft winds blowing through the pinewood trees
Folks down there like a life of ease
When old mammy falls upon her knees
It's sleepy time down south
Steamboats on the river a coming or a going
Splashing the night away
Hear those banjos ringing, the people are singing
They dance til the break of day, hey
Dear old southland with his dreamy songs
Takes me back there where I belong
How I'd love to be in my mammy's arms
When it's sleepy time way down south
Dear old southland with his dreamy songs
Take me back there where I belong
How I'd love to be in my mammy's arms
When it's sleepy time down south
Sleepy time down south
song performed by by Louis Armstrong
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Who You Think You Is
who you think you is,
fool with a big crown look,
tequila on the ice,
we come steal your queen man,
she goes to vocational school,
usual I'm warm-hearted,
but walk-the-plank man,
teach you never touch my mother again,
I'll be playing the xylophone,
yester-day was yester-eveing,
you have a problem disbelieving,
fool who you think you is,
I make you walk the street,
let you smell the vapor,
from her woman part,
you gonna need,
a umbrella to go under that waterfall,
best upholstery in the house,
say white-house mouse,
dude ugly-duckling tycoon,
stick your mind in twilight,
let vampires suck you dry,
have you running from your friends,
while you crying boo-hoo,
give me a tribute,
Its splendid you came visit,
royalty bow to me eat spinach,
who you think you Is.
poem by Tommy Laster
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Friday At Five
(jimmy stewart/george teren)
Got some cash in my pocket
And its burning a hole
Got the boss on my back
And its getting real old
This weeks been hell
But Ill party it out of my mind
From friday at five
Till sunday at closing time
Aint a punching no clock
Aint a making no plans
Need a girl on my arm
And a beer in my hands
Im tight as drum
But Im gonna cut loose and unwind
From friday at five
Till sunday at closing time
Got some pretty little women waiting on me
To shake up this sleepy old town
Thats one job I take seriously
I wouldnt dream of letting them down
Got a call from my ex
And shes asking for more
Im late with the rent
And the wolfs at the door
But thats gonna be
The furthest thing from my mind
From friday at five
Till sunday at closing time
Got some pretty little women waiting on me
To shake up this sleepy old town
Thats one job I take seriously
I wouldnt dream of letting them down
It might take me all week
To get back on my feet
But I know Ill be alright
From friday at five
Till sunday at closing time
From friday at five
Till sunday at closing time
song performed by by John Michael Montgomery
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Moment
Express trains are respectful brothers
For they have an ihtuitional heart each
Delayed one train means much the next bothers
And it's our train next delayed long we waited such
Evening platform limned dim and dull
Weakened infrastructure waiting for a seat
Sparse benches filled with baggages full
Buzzing mosquitoes spraying around to bite
Uneasy to feel lost in a railed hell
Chairs, benches inadequate even to rest
Impatient me escorting things all
Evening walk escaped hubby alone me left
Who and who not the cheaters
All immoral thieves..watchful to watch
Dub, dub, dub, dub pattered my heart fears
'Where's hubby' panicked the train in a touching reach
poem by Indira Renganathan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cosy Home Chat
I told my hubby,
Please come with me
I get bored …
Waiting for my GP
I can chat with you
While I wait
To become my GP's
Next bait ;)
Hubby told me,
Sorry, I'm busy!
Though I'm working
From home, there are
Deadlines, you see…!
However, my dear
Let me suggest to you
While you wait there
For your GP, how about
Writing some poetry
On your blackberry? !
Bingo! What an idea!
I did just that!
While I waited for my GP,
I wrote this new poetry…
On my handy blackberry!
A light, frothy poesy
On our cosy home chat
Now don't tell me, you
Didn't like that ;)
(Here in UK, NHS waiting times to see a GP can run up to an hour!)
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Last Call
He was sick of it all
Asleep at home
Told you off and goodbye
Well you know one day itll come to haunt you
That you didnt tell him quite the truth
Youre a crisis
Youre a icicle
Youre a tongueless talker
You dont care what you say
Youre a jaywalker and you just just walk away
And thats all you do
The clap of the fading out sound of your shoes
Made him ownder who he thought that he knew
Last call
He was sick of it all
The endless stream of reminders
Made him so sick of you sick of you sick of you
Sick for your sound
Sick of you coming around
Trying to crawl under my skin
When I already shed my best defense
It comes out all around that you won
And I think Im all done
You can switch me off safely
While Im lying here waiting for sleep to overtake me
Yeah yeah youre still here but just check to make sure
All you aspired to do was endure
You cant ask for more ask for none
Knowing youll never get that which you ask for
So you cast your shadow everywhere like the man in the moon
You start to drink you just want to continue
Itll all be yester year soon
You start to drink you just want to continue
Itll all be yester year soon
Church bells and now Im awake and I guess it must be some kind of
Holiday
I cant seen to join in the celebration
But Ill go to the service
And Ill go to pray
And Ill sing the praises of my makers name
Like I was as good as she made me
And I wanted her to tell me that she would never wake me
I wanted her to tell me that she would never wake me
I wanted her to tell me that she would never wake me
I wanted her to tell me that she would never wake me
I wanted her to tell me that she would never wake me
I wanted her to tell me that she would never wake me
I wanted her to tell me that she would never wake me
I wanted her to tell me that she would never wake me
Im lying here waiting for sleep to one take me
song performed by by Elliott Smith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Dentist
Sitting in the dentist's chair,
Wishing that I wasn't there,
To forget and pass the time
I have made this bit of rhyme.
I had a rendez-vous at ten;
I rushed to get in line,
But found a lot of dames and men
Had waited there since nine;
I stared at them, then in an hour
Was blandly ushered in;
But though my face was grim and sour
He met me with a grin.
He told me of his horse of blood,
And how it "also ran",
He plans to own a racing stud -
(He seems a wealthy man.)
And then he left me there until
I growled: "At any rate,
I hope he'll not charge in his bill
For all the time I wait."
His wife has sables on her back,
With jewels she's ablaze;
She drives a stately Cadillac,
And I'm the mug who pays:
At least I'm one of those who peer
With pessimistic gloom
At magazines of yester-year
In his damn waiting room.
I am a Christian Scientist;
I don't believe in pain;
My dentist had a powerful wrist,
He tries and tries in vain
To make me grunt or groan or squeal
With probe or rasp or drill. . . .
But oh, what agony I feel
When HE PRESENTS HIS BILL!
Sitting in the dental chair,
Don't you wish you weren't there:
Well, your cup of woe to fill,
Just think of his infernal bill.
poem by Robert William Service
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Faded Love And Winter Roses
Key: e
(if you dont know e very well throw a capo on the 2nd fret and play it in d)
(e) faded love and winter roses (b7) always bloom in memo(e)ry
Faded love and winter roses (b7) yearning hearts that used to (e)be
(a)will they meet again tomorrow (e)where we parted yester(b7)day
(e)give me back the winter roses (b7)and the love you took a(e)way
(e)faded love and winter roses (b7)sprinkled with a lonely (e)tear
Faded love and winter roses (b7)still recall each yester(e)year
(a)will I always be a dreamer (e)dreaming of the used to (b7)be
(e)faded love and winter roses (b7)live and die in memo(e)ry
song performed by by Hank Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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