Holy Jaunt
Two carpets, blue and black
Embroidered with sun and stars
Daily to fly to the divine destination
For me from this haven of mud
Jaunt of my joie de vivre intermitted shortly
Dieseled air and breath of bad people
Dirtied the carpets with dust and lust
Began the cleaning process to deterge
Down evacuated, up all the aqua
A volley of hydraulic pouring
Heavily beat and hammerded the carpets
Lines of clearance flashed now and then
Process over, brighter the carpets
Jiggling my joy resumed its soaring
To the interminable, untouched sanctum
The Holy Lord is supposedly dwelling
poem by Indira Renganathan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
I'm not invited. I'm not on the A list, haven't been on it in 20 years and my feet have never trod its red fluffy carpets.
quote by Nick Mancuso
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
X6
the manner of perfection is always
the meeting of what is up there
and down here, for instance...
man &
God, and that is on the higher plane
but there is more to this kind of
philosophy,
even in the basest manner of making love,
the fusion of two lips
the collisions of two pelvic bones
tongue
to tongue
in and
out
body to
body
soul to
soul
more likely but
the point is
there is more ecstasy
for the lips to
reach down the tips
of the toes
God
stepping down
to crucifixion
to find
Man
heaven's tongue
to earth's
feet,
the sharp rods of
thunder
piercing the
crevices of
the earth
the fingers of the sun
caressing
the roots of grass
the man
bending between
the legs
of the woman
on the floor
the carpets crawl
on the carpets
the ceiling drops
undressed
the moon finally
rest on the marshes
how a goddess
resigns
from its
cloud throne
to have a tryst
with the horny
faun
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Gasped for air at birth
Sped through life on red carpets
Ran so fast to death
haiku by Michelle Soares
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Custodial Artist
Not suicidal
Just along for the ride
I prefer to live on
Along with my maker
In stride
For a soul, to withstand the test of time
When it cries for freedom
A mark that holds on to my heart
I need that new start
So, back to that school
From six years ago
Cleaning the mess
As my souls' verse, begins to flow
Scrubbing floors
Vacuuming carpets
Shining the chrome on the water fountain
That was once dull
Dust mopping the hall
It's good to be back
For my heart needs repair
I'll take a fresh scent
Through the mildewed air
People do change
If given a chance
Onward I surge
A custodians last dance
poem by Matt Mondschein
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
331
what is it that the vacuum cleaner
takes from you?
dust and dirt and scattered pieces
on the floor
in your room and in your kitchen
from the carpets
and what is that the cotton takes too?
or the sponge? or the rags?
they will take in water, moisture,
and stains
from the walls
and your ears
and what does my heart take from you?
it will take your gaze
your smiles
your breaths and your whispers and your kisses
and your warm memories
it will take even your rivers
your sea
your world your universe
the stars and the moon
even your suns
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
327
what is it that the vacuum cleaner
takes from you? dust and dirt and scattered pieces
on the floor
in your room and in your kitchen
from the carpets
and what is that the cotton takes too?
or the sponge? or the rags?
they will take in water, moisture,
and stains
from the walls
and your ears
and what does my heart take from you?
it will take your gaze
your smiles
your breaths and your whispers and your kisses
and your warm memories
it will take even your rivers
your sea
your world your universe
the stars and the moon
even your suns
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Vacuum Cleaner And The Cotton
what is it that the vacuum cleaner
takes from you? dust and dirt and scattered pieces
on the floor
in your room and in your kitchen
from the carpets
and what is that the cotton takes too?
or the sponge? or the rags?
they will take in water, moisture,
and stains
from the walls
and your ears
and what does my heart take from you?
it will take your gaze
your smiles
your breaths and your whispers and your kisses
and your warm memories
it will take even your rivers
your sea
your world your universe
the stars and the moon
even your suns
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Red Carpet In Shades Of Green
green grass carpets
watch worker bees
in pollen quest flights
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
If books were Persian carpets, one would not look only at the outer side. because it is the stitch that makes a carpet wear, gives it its life and bloom.
quote by Rumer Godden
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
All Things Being Constant
all things being constant,
there will still be hope.
or even just you, since i
have changed and swerved
on another curve
without you.
you being constant
and i coming back, carrying with
me
a handful of 'i am sorry'
' i will be good this time'
'forgive me'
and i kneel before your feet
pleading.
with you being constant
as the star of this house,
this shattered home,
these broken window glasses
and dirtied carpets
and muddy floors because
my shoes brought them in,
with you being constant,
like mother,
i too, can be, myself again,
i, too, can say,
damn, i am lucky, to have
mother in you,
damn, i am lucky,
like daddy.
i am really sorry.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
It is easier to cover our feet with sandals than to cover the earth with carpets.
Tacloban At The Santo Nino Shrine
what i saw was the luxury of the past
ivory birds, octupus chandeliers,
chekoslovakian furnitures
russian dolls and persian carpets
these are all found here
icons of Christ and the Holy Virgin Mary
in marble chips from Italy
the paintings of Malakas and Maganda
the banig walls that took two years of polish and paste
it is totally a different world
thirty-seaters or twenty seaters
of chosen dignataries for dining
and dancing the wide halls
of this palace
the tourist guide guides us to different rooms
of this country of fools
each with an austrian mirror
polished black and white floors
the chosen hard wood and the glossy varnishes
these
all these
the people have suffered
in poverty and too much confusion of the times
what have we got now?
we have this trauma, of
never again
everything is dust.
everyone is dust
i am going back to the past
perhaps i shall bleed again,
cry...
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Unselfishness is unreasonable
Every action of yours or anyone’s
Springs up from some self wants-
To want to get or get out-
By a motive that can be
Instinctual, biological,
Psychological or ethical.
So service, sacrifice, generosity
And philanthropy are carpets,
With self wants underneath.
30.03.2001, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Lament 2
Lament
Bucolic village
Full of romantic cobble stones
Fucking hard to walk on
When your feet are old
And you need slippers and carpets
And not bogus rustic charm
poem by Oskar Hansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sylvia Plath
I wish I had a sylvia plath
Busted tooth and a smile
And cigarette ashes in her drink
The kind that goes out and then sleeps for a week
The kind that goes out on her
To give me a reason, for well, I dunno
And maybe shed take me to france
Or maybe to spain and shed ask me to dance
In a mansion on the top of a hill
Shed ash on the carpets
And slip me a pill
Then shed get pretty loaded on gin
And maybe shed give me a bath
How I wish I had a sylvia plath
And she and I would sleep on a boat
And swim in the sea without clothes
With rain falling fast on the sea
While she was swimming away, shed be winking at me
Telling me it would all be okay
Out on the horizon and fading away
And Id swim to the boat and Id laugh
I gotta get me a sylvia plath
And maybe shed take me to france
Or maybe to spain and shed ask me to dance
In a mansion on the top of a hill
Shed ash on the carpets
And slip me a pill
Then shed get pretty loaded on gin
And maybe shed give me a bath
How I wish I had a sylvia plath
I wish I had a sylvia plath
song performed by by Ryan Adams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Almost Medieval
Theres something in your soul that makes me feel so old
In fact I think Ive died about six hundred times
Theres less of me now and more of me then
Im moving back to the age of men
Jump off the tarmac theres no stagecoach speed limit
Outside the office hangs the man on the gibbet
Soft lenses, grow to glasses
Small world, dimly seen through cataracts
Your program, newspaper
So they say
Rumour spread by word of mouth, jump onto the escalator
Press the button on the lift, raise the dust on old stair carpets
Endless treads like waves of regret
Now it seems Im going madder
Falling off this rotting ladder
Soft lenses, grow to glasses
Small world, dimly seen through cataracts
Jump onto the escalator
Press the button on the lift
Raise the dust on old stair carpets
Endless treads like waves of regret
Now it seems Im going madder
Falling off this rotting ladder
Your program, newspaper
So they say
Rumour spread by word of mouth
Jump onto the escalator
Press the button on the lift
Raise the dust on old stair carpets
Endless treads like waves of regret
Now it seems Im going madder
Falling through this rotting ladder
Theres something in your soul that makes me feel so old
In fact I think Ive died about six hundred times
Theres less of me now and more of me then
Im moving back to the age of men
Jump off the tarmac theres no stagecoach speed limit
Outside the office hangs the man on the gibbet
Jump off the tarmac theres no stagecoach speed limit
Outside the office swings the man on the gibbet
song performed by by Human League
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Things With Stories Of Their Own
overused
lipstick, abused plate and spoon,
molested carpets,
a breakdown of shattered
glasses in the living room,
wasted wine,
roasted pork,
over fried chicken legs
egg broiled
with black sulfur
smoked chimney,
candle floors, oiled skins,
dyed hair
snake pit, outgrown shoes,
dry leaves, crying babies,
foul socks, suckers,
milestones, limestone.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Winter
Autumn leaves blow around
slowly Winter creeps on forward
bringing an icy chill to the air.
Frost in the morning carpets the fields
above the Blue skies change to Grey
darkness moves on in early.
As winds whistle a song in the trees
below Squirrels squabble with birds over food
Snowdrops pop their heads out of the earth.
This is Winter the cold season
the prelude to Spring
to some harsh and bleak
others very beautiful.
poem by Kevin Halls
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
In the city
As a child in the afternoons
I walked home
barefoot along a sand road
with a short sleeved shirt and short pants
and the red brown sand
burnt my feet
but the air was bright blue,
I smelled the Lucerne of the field,
sometimes took a short cut through the stream,
birdcalls were like music
and the whole world belonged to me
and in everything
I could see the Lord’s works
and knew that I was serving
a loving Father.
l’Envoi
Now I walk with hand made shoes
in a designer suit
on concrete streets
from my car to the lift
then on thick carpets
to my office
and in the background
I can hear the air conditioner
and somewhere life
has lost its soul.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Spiritual World
The world spiritually declines you,
Powers obey those in command;
Hats beside, a little time is needed
To clothe the crust of the world with carpets.
Roads stimulate our sight and hearing,
Gathering a little love from obvious nature;
Vehicles praise each other, somewhere,
And shoulders weigh hundredfold.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!