En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Narrow bed

When last I lay with you my Love-
lay with you in your narrow bed
in your room, off campus, near the mall.
in your last semester of Pre- Med.

That day I’d helped you move your things
And after our feast of pie and beer
You were loathe to let me go
In your narrow bed you held me near.

Your hair was then a fiery red
Your milk white breasts had known no sun
I kept eye contact as I inclined
to worship Venus with my tongue.


Later as our climax neared
Your ankles locked around my back
You gasped as we, together, came
A delightful little death was that.


Sweating in a chilly room
Your landlord didn’t give much heat
I held you then for the last time
Both knowing and not knowing that.

We grew apart, you moved away
I met the girl who’d be my wife
You had your practice in Atlanta
We both got along with life.


Thirty winters passed us by
I heard that you were back in town
I hurried out to visit you.
To see your face for one last time.


Your brother met me at the door-
The one who used to be a priest
He led me to the open casket
Where your body lay at peace

Streaks of grey were in your hair
The strain of cancer marred you face
But though the battle had been lost
Were you not now in a better place?

Laid out in a pale blue dress
A rosary wrapped around your hands
But if they were warm and capable-
Could they make me feel young again?

I left you, Ellen, one last time
Feeling overcome by tears
I clutched my coat against the cold
That reached for me across the years.

poem by John F. McCullagh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Survival Of Love

On a mid-winter's night
when the stars were bright
a stranger came into town.
As he looked around
it was then that he found
that all of the ground was white.

It was beautiful to see
and he wondered if she
would be looking out at the snow?
All the time he'd been gone
as he approached the front lawn,
he prayed that there she would be.

His hands were so cold.
They were wrinkled and old
but they remembered the feel of her face.
So much time had passed by.
Many tears they did cry,
not knowing what their future did hold,

In between all the years
there'd been so many tears
not knowing where he did go?
He'd been hit on the head
robbed and then left for dead.
but survived and as his head clears

He cannot recall
who he is at all.
No memories of whom he had been.
What was his name?
Was he insane?
Amnesia had created a wall.

He had a wife
who prayed for his life,
never giving up hope he'd return.
Every day she would go
and look out at the snow
as the years had brought nothing but strife.

Not knowing at all that his amnesia's wall
came suddenly crumbling down.
He remembered his past.
He traveled there fast
and he came to the town of snowfall.

As he approached in the snow
she was at the window,
looking at what she thought was a ghost.
Trembling to see
Was it really he?
She opened the door very slow.

She felt his hand.
His hand held a strand
of her hair that was white like the snow.
They couldn't let go
for they both did know
that their lives ended just as God planned.

poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sally's Goodbye

Sally got up early to find what she could wear,
Then brushed her teeth and combed her hair.
She wasn’t going outside to play,
For today was a very special day.

Sally put on her favourite dress and matching headband,
In her favourite colour she looked so beautiful, just as planned.
‘Are you ready? ’ her daddy said
‘Yes Daddy I am, I’m just making my bed.’

She held her Daddy’s hand as they walked to the car
For she knew someone was watching from afar
They got in the car and drove away
Looking at the white clouds, with a touch of grey.

Everyone was there to give her a hug and kiss
She knew it was a day that no one would miss
In her matching headband and blue dress
As she walked through the doors she said god bless.

The place was decorated just like she thought
There was just enough room for the flowers she brought
Sally went up to the front of the room
And she knew that she would see her Mummy soon.

‘Here you are Mummy, I got these for you’
She was wearing her favourite colour, which was blue.
Sally placed the flowers she carried in her basket
With all the others right on top of her Mum’s casket.

Sally was 7 years old and didn’t understand
That her mummy couldn’t see her pretty blue headband
Daddy came up and placed on some flowers
He smiled, looking at Sally, ‘she’ll know they’re ours’.

They took their seat and began to wait
Most guests were seated, some were late.
The minister talked of a woman so beautiful
A wife, a mother and all things wonderful.

Sally asked Daddy if she could say a word
It was the sweetest thing her Daddy had heard.
‘Of course you can, Mummy would be proud,
Just go up there and remember to speak loud.

Sally walked up the front and stood at the pew
She knew everyone could see her in her dress of blue.
With memories in her head and love in her heart
She cleared her throat and began to start.

‘Mummy was so beautiful and so kind,
When I did things wrong, she would never really mind.
Mummy was very sick, and now she’s in heaven
She missed my birthday, because today I’m seven.

I wore our favourite colour today, I hope she can see
I wore a matching headband, it’s nice, I think she’d agree.
Mummy, I will make sure that Daddy will smile
Because I know that we won’t be seeing you for a while

We miss you more each and every day
But I still see you in my own special way.
I close my eyes, and you are there
Smiling back at me with your long blonde hair.

I love you mummy, you’re the best mum to me
I know that this is the way it has to be
Every time I think of you I will smile
And I will see you in heaven, in just a little while.’

Sally sat down with a smile on her face
Daddy held her in a warm embrace.
‘I’m so proud of you’ Said Daddy with a tear in his eye
It’s not forever Daddy, it’s just a short goodbye.

Sally watched her mummy be carried away,
Her head held high she began to pray,
‘Dear god please take care of my mummy,
she will be the most beautiful angel there will ever be’

poem by Kayla Neil
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Jane and You and the Hollow Tree.

Jane waited for you
by the narrow road
that led to Linch farm

the water tower visible
against the afternoon sky
of pale blue and white

cold clouds
she was dressed
in a grey coat

and her dark hair
was pinned back
with grips

you noticed
blueness
about her lips

the cold taking toll
wasn't sure
if you would show

she said
the coldness
and such

I said I would
and I say
what I mean

you replied
once you were close to her
she took her hands

out of the coat pockets
and linked her arm
through yours

where shall we go?
she asked
you know it better

around here than I do
you choose
you said

let's go up
the dust track
to the hollow tree

on the way up
to the Downs
she said

ok
you said
and so you walked along

and up the dust track
side by side
and she talked

of the wintery trees
and what birds
there were still about

and how she liked
spring best with the coming
of flowers and birds nesting

and you listened
looking at her
as she spoke

watching her lips move
how when she spoke
her white teeth showed

and now and then
her tongue would show
and it reminded you

of that kiss she gave you
up by Diddling church
as you stood looking

at the grave stones
and she gazed at you
and then kissed

and her tongue
touched yours
and it was like heaven

as if someone
had opened up
your heart

and stuck
their tongue in there
and as you thought

about that kiss
she talked of some girl
of a cowman

who'd got pregnant
and how did that happen?
she asked

and you said nothing
but listened on
and then you reached

the hollow tree
and climbed inside
and sat down

looking out
of the hole
in the side

and it felt cosy
in there
like a small home

and she leaned
in against you
and there was silence

and you looked at her
at her eyes
and hair

and how her lips
were parted
and her white teeth

showed and her tongue
waiting to speak
and you wondered

about that kiss again
and whether
it would happen this time

there in the hollow tree
out of sight
of others

and she showed you
tucked between
her small breasts

a small locket
which used to be
her mother's.

poem by Terry Collett
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Shangri-La Hotel

A visit to Shangri-La Hotel,
To my lover's room;
A visit to Shangri-La Hotel,
Like the eyes of an elephant;
I want to be in everybody's shoes but,
My mind is bigger than my shoes.
Like a message to the blue bears,
Like amessage to the white bears,
Like a message to the black bears,
LIke a message to the brown bears,
Keep it clean and soft;
a simple life to the muse of love.

A visit to my lover's room,
I am always moving and i don't look back;
Forward ever!
A visit to my lover's room,
I am always moving without looking back;
Backwards never!
A visit to my lover's room,
I know my back could be crooked;
But, i always move on.
I will surely reach to the end one day,
Like a visit to Shangri-La Hotel;
Forward ever, backwards never.

There comes a time when all seems so lost but,
Don't give up on your dreams in this life;
Like a marriage in the rain,
I do have a lover to visit.
The visit of my lover's room is like,
A love song in the rain;
The visit to my lover's room is like,
To marry in the rain;
The visit to my lover's room is like,
To make love in the rain;
The visit to my lover's room is like,
To walk naked in the rain;
The visit to my lover's room is like,
To sing in the rain;
Life is like that at times and,
I have my mind on you.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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A Christmas Visitation

Anny stands by the door. Anny
Watches as your grandchildren
Open the seasonal gifts. Her blue
Eyes follow as toys are investigated
One after another. You see her there,
Her ghostly hand brushing back her
Curly blonde hair. She smiles at you
As she lifts her eyes from toys to you.
None of the others see her as she walks
About the room, her hands wanting to
Touch the toys, to finger the doll, to hold
Against her chest as once she may in
Better days before the Auschwitz death.
You sip your beer, your eyes watching
As she sits by your wife, taking in excitement
Of voices and grandchildren’s laughter,
Her bright eyes moving from you to laid
Down toys, maybe remembering her own
Childhood excitement of Jewish celebrations,
The candles, the singing, the feel of love,
The sense of awe. Speculation on your part,
You and your tender heart. Anny studies
Your wife as she talks of this and that to those
Around the room. Anny looks back at you,
Those blue eyes, that curly blonde hair, that
Ribbon tied in the hair, those 1940s clothes,
That sense of sorrow that follows her like
Perfume. You smile back and want to say
Other words you have said to her before,
But others might wonder why you speak to
One they cannot see, thinking maybe your
Dotage has taken a turn or that you’ve sipped
Too much beer in celebrational cheer. Anny
Understands these things and much beside
Since that Paris betrayal and train trip to
Icy Auschwitz where in 1942 she died.

poem by Terry Collett
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My Beautiful Lie

Every time I wake up and find myself in this place
As my hands run up to my face
To rub the drowsiness out of my eye
I find myself wrapped in my beautiful lie

In this warm and cozy home
Where I feel the most cold and alone
Wrapped up in my blanket seeking the warm
As my cold heart begins to do it's harm

Making things vivid to my eye the tears leak out and I cry
Here I begin to weave my beautiful lie
My time of wants and need
The time I'm overwhelmed by a perpetual greed

Can't help but think how I'm pathetically nice
As my cold blood runs through my veins like ice
My body shivers even though the sun hits it as it rises on high
Here I thread the needle for my beautiful lie

As the needle starts in with my sin
The stitching starts to begin
My body goes cold and unfeeling as stone
The wounds deeper then bone

Losing my fear and almost wishing to die
Here I bleed my beautiful lie
I begin to laugh and smile
Lost inside my own guile

Here I find myself wrapped up in my beautiful lie
Rubbing the tears from my eye
As your hands leave my face
Every time I wake up and see you in this place
...Inside my beautiful lie

poem by Kevin Shelley
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Swan Song

Her hair was as black as a starling's tail,
Her cheeks as pale as a swan,
Her eyes, like two slim moonstones, glowed
And her mouth was the Holy Grail.
She'd played in the dirt of the village street
So long ago, so long...
She'd swum in the pools of the mountain stream,
But now, that girl had gone.

While I still rise with the early bird
To tend to my father's fields,
As the only son of an only son
I watched the woman leave.
She cried sweet tears as she said farewell
And vowed to come back, and soon,
But the village streets of a western town
Hold nothing for Ling Xiaodan.

The weeks went by, then the months and years
And I heard of her now and then,
She was dressed in expensive clothes, I heard,
She was driving a shiny car;
She was seen at the Beijing Opera
By a man who worked at the door,
'She glided by like a Queen, ' he said,
'As her dress trailed long on the floor.'

And her wai po, down in the village square
Would brag of her daughter's girl,
'She will snare some man with a million yuan, '
She said, 'not a farmer's son.
Go home to your fields and forget her now,
She's not for an also-ran! '
And laughed, as the tears sprang into my eyes
For the love of Ling Xiaodan.

She came back once to the village street
To her home, as ever we must,
But carefully held her dress up high
To avoid the rubbish and dust,
I stood at the side and she looked at me,
Then turned, looked quickly away,
For Ling Xiaodan and a farmer's son
Had nothing at all to say.

But I saw her once before she left,
Alone by the mountain stream,
Her eyes were sorrowful, in remorse,
Remembering how we'd been.
'I loved you once, as a child, ' she said
'But the world is harsh, and grey...
We do what our fathers want us to,
And my father sent me away.'

I sat by her then, and held her hand,
Stroking her neck, and hair,
And kissed the cheek, so pale and wan,
And I cried in a deep despair.
'You must get on with your life, ' she said,
'Get a wife and a baby son;
I leave tomorrow to see the man
That my father has met in town.'

I heard that she'd wed a businessman,
And cried in the quiet gloom,
My dream had died by the mountain stream,
On that day, in the afternoon.
She worked in a shop her husband owned,
So they said, but I never heard
'Til the body was brought back home again,
That the love of my life was dead.

It seemed that she'd sold her favours there
In the rear of a grimy store,
To any man with the change to spare
While her husband played Mah Jongg.
He'd gambled his fortune, and lost it all
While his wife kept the fool from jail
With what she earned with her hands and hair,
And a mouth like the Holy Grail.

But then, a man who was ill or mad
Put his grimy hands at her throat,
And squeezed the life from the darling neck
That I'd once both loved, and stroked.
They buried her up on the mountainside
By the stream, in sight of her home,
And from where I stand in the paddy fields
I can see her pale white stone.

She'd played in the dirt of the village street
So long ago, so long...
She'd swum in the pools of the mountain stream,
But now, that girl had gone.
I married a woman I barely knew
And she bore me a black-haired girl,
With eyes like two slim moonstones, and...
A mouth like the Holy Grail.

10 March 2006

poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Face Up

Ever since Ive seen your face
This life of mine has gone to waste
I was young and you were old
And I always knew you were cold
At the start you had a heart
But in the end you lost your friend
Can you see your own dark face?
Its dieing in a lonely place
Oh, how I cannot bear the thought of you
I said, oh, how I cannot bear the thought of you
As we get old, we lose our place
Reflecting back the worlds disgrace
I feel so low, I feel so humble
Sometimes in life we take a tumble
Dont let anybody tell you that youre no good
Cause you know they would
Dont let anybody tell you what you should do
Cause its not that way and...
Oh, how I cannot bear the thought of you
I said, oh, how I cannot bear the thought of you
We were young and we were pure
And life was just an open door
I said oh, oh, how I cannot bear the thought of you
You were me and I was you
This world of ours it felt brand new
You took me a little further...
I heard it all before, Ive heard it all before
I cant hear it anymore
Your hair was long, your eyes was blue
Guess what Im gonna do to you
Oh, how I cannot bear the thought of you
I said, oh, how I cannot bear the thought of you
We were young and we were pure
And life was just an open door
I said oh, oh, how I cannot bear the thought...
Oh, how I cannot bear the thought of you
I said oh, oh, how I cannot bear the thought of you
We were young and we were pure...

song performed by by New Order
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Can't You Remember?

How often have you heard me cry?
How often have you not asked why
the tears are flowing down my face?
Maybe it's guilt you can't erase.
The lack of caring has gotten to me.
And all of those tears have got to be
drying me up inside.

We started out with so much to do.
There was never a time when tears would flow
because you always seemed to know
how to keep our love alive,
how to make our love just thrive,
making me feel like a bride.

We raised our kids and moved along
helping each other when things went wrong.
And eventually we got through it all.
When the kids moved out I recall
that what we had moved out too.
Now it was just me and you,
trying to hide our pride.

I know we can't turn back the clock.
You know I still love you. You're my rock.
And so my tears are flowing again
'cause I can still remember when
all that we had was just we two
sharing a love that was brand new
when no feelings would we hide.

But somewhere in the back of my mind
I have the feeling we still might find
what it was we had back then
and maybe we can bring it back again.
If we can't and it's all gone
I know that I will have to move on
and turn a brand new tide.

If you enjoyed this poem visit my site at
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poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Face To Face

We never talk to one another
We just disagree
Im the one who runs for cover
And you turn your back on me
They say nothings gonna last forever
But some things are worth fighting for
Yeah, well love could bring us back together
But love dont come round here no more
The words unspoken in the night
Locked away in my heart
And Im feeling out of place
But if love is the key
Let it open the door
So well be standing -- face to face
You never want to see me face to face
Think it over
Face to face
If only it could be just face to face
Baby you and me
Face to face
I may be better off without it
I cant go on this way
Time has come to talk about it
This is our judgement day
You know we swore it would last forever
Always felt so sure it would
But its looking like now or never
Time to turn a bad thing into good
The words that echo in the night
Theyre fading away
And theyre gone without a trace
Now its up to you and me
Lets open the door
And meet each other -- face to face
Its time we saw each other face to face
To talk it over
Face to face
You know its gotta be just face to face
Baby you and me
Face to face
We gotta see each other -- face to face
And talk about it
Face to face
Hope it aint too late to meet face to face
Just you and me
(solo)
Face to face
Its time we saw each other face to face
To talk it over
Face to face
You know its gotta be just face to face
Baby you and me
Face to face
We gotta see each other
Face to face
And talk about it
Face to face
I hope it aint too late to meet
Face to face
Dont turn your back on me
Face to face
Its time we saw each other
Face to face
To talk it over

song performed by by Foreigner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Eternal Love I'll never know

Your body lays in the coffin stiff as a board. I only knew you for a glimmer of time.
I heard you passed away the other day, my heart sank, like the day you left me.
Before you were gone from my life, now you are gone from this world.
I sit here and wonder where your spirit is floating now. I hope it will be pleasant and in a place I would recognize. A place where I could maybe wander and find you someday.

Your beautiful white face, that use to be caressed by the love of our Sun, is expressionless.
Just like the day you crushed my hopes and dreams of being with you.
Sometimes I feel like I've let those days go, and some days I don't feel alone.

Today I'm with someone new, years have passed us by, but I feel dead to her and life on the inside.
Maybe it's in my mind, so determined to be with you, the only one I let myself love.
Or maybe it's just a simple fear and I don't have enough courage to just let go.

This bond I feel for you is beautiful yet so sadistic. It has controlled me ever since that day, and I'm not sure how to help myself. Everything I look at now lacks color and is seen in black and white.

The angels are flying over my head, I'm lying here thinking of you in bed.
Your dark brown hair is spread through my finger tips, I can feel every crevice in your lips as I lean in to mend them with mine.

And now your dead...I don't know where you have gone, but search for me okay? Like I have searched for you. I'll know when you return, I'll know when you are there. If I could breathe the breath of life back into your lungs, I would. If I could give life back to what we had I would try. Because is those short moments, I've felt more alive then all these twenty five years.

You'll never find someone like me again, not ever. I know everyone says that when they are left standing in the dust, but this time it is true. I never had a human choice, but as if a puppet master above my head pulled a string, and my heart loved you.

But be still now my love, be at peace and rest because I have done all the wandering and anguish for the both of us for so long. I look forward to the day I see you, and my heart skips a beat one more time.
Because in that moment I'm jolted back to life, and I know everything is going to be fine.
And in that instant it's gone, it hurts me to feel eternal love I'll never know.

poem by Midnight Writer
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Last Sunset

The old man staring out a frosted window.
Watching life his go by.
Wondering what could have been.
Had he only tried.

Things could have been so different.
He thinks with such regret.
His end is coming closer.
This is his last sunset.

He thinks of the love that he lost.
And how he let her go.
If he could turn back the hands of time,
His love for her he'd show.

Success it was his idol.
Money, work and fame.
His work's what he took serious.
His life was but a game.

A game he played against the odds.
He thought that he would win.
But money wasn't everything.
Much to his chagrin.

He remembered a story he heard one day,
About a man named Christ.
And all the lives this man had changed.
And changed without a price.

Their lives were complete and full of peace.
And all their dreams came true.
Not with money, work and fame.
But with how their spirits grew.

The old man knowing his end was near.
Called out to The One.
“Help me know just what I missed”
He cried out to God's son.

The man with tears now in his eyes.
Looked up to heaven above.
And felt a hand upon his arm.
That filled the man with love.

And then a hug, a warm embrace.
He held the man so tight.
He vowed to not let that man go.
Alone into the night.

The man he spoke to Jesus.
And repented all his sin.
Jesus spoke with a gentle voice,
“I know just where you've been.”

“That's why I came to save you,
and I hung upon my cross.
Even though your end is near.
Son, you're no longer lost.”

The man he then closed his eyes.
With a smile upon his face.
Knowing the home going to,
Was a much more loving place.

The Savior then he took his hand,
And led the old man's soul.
To an eternity full of peace.
From a life with no control.

The old man now young and looking down.
Wondering why did he wait,
To feel the joy that Jesus brought.
But at least it wasn't too late.

The Father will come running.
To his children when they cry.
For you only have one life to live.
So don't wait until your last goodbye.

poem by Ryan Lee Morris
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Good Time Girl

The Good Time Girl

She was beautiful in a floozy sort of way too much
lack in her hair and dramatic make up.
When I was young and before I married I used to
visit her when the need was there.
Well I got married and was happy for some time,
but my wife left and we divorced.
I visited the old tart again as she had been accommodating,
but her life style had taken bitter its toll.
She was glad to see me, but when she undressed her
body had cigarette burns that spoke for itself.
I put her dress on; she had a defaulting breathing yet
lit a cigarette… I called for an ambulance.
She died in the night of emphysema and I thought
why didn’t I love her instead of my ex wife?

poem by Oskar Hansen
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In A Windowpane

I looked into a windowpane
Last evening in a city far away
I was feelin sad and blue
I wondered then if I should really stay
Wanting someone to be with me in the light of this uncertain time
Waiting by the window for the man inside
To please make up his mind
Will you be one who passed through but never saw
Never knowing never feeling anything
Will you live your whole life through never knowing what to do
Will you be one who passed through but never saw
I walked along the roadway to a fountain
Where lovers come to meet
A hobo walked up to me, I could tell
He didnt have enough to eat
He said, good sir you look so kind
And though the years have stripped me to the bone
It seems I am the better man
For in this place Ive never walked alone
Will you be one who passed through but never saw
Never knowing never feeling anything
Will you live your whole life through never knowing what to do
Will you be one who passed through but never saw
Where will you be, my friendly, when your
Telephone aint givin out no calls
And when the seasons come to haunt you
Will you still find springtime in the fall
And when youre on your island
Will you wave at every ship that passes by
And will you feed a hungry man
I thank you, sir,
Now Ill just say goodbye
Dont you be one who passed through but never saw
Never knowing never feeling anything
Will you live your whole life through never knowing what to do
Will you be one who passed through but never saw
Will you live your whole life through never knowing what to do
Will you be one who passed through but never saw

song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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This Morning

Nothing left to feel
Nothing more to do
Nothing left to give
Nothing more in you
Nothing else to have or hold
Nothing left, but time to go
Time to go
Years go by
Didn't really say that much at all
And moments just fly
Didn't ever really touch at all
Weeks always run down
Didn't really get that close at all
And days, days fall out
Didn't ever really know at all
And then we're here in a room too clean and too bright
She stares at you for an hour
You stare into the light
For one last hour in the room
So mean and so white
I stare at her in this room as she stares into the night
Nothing left to feel
Nothing more to do
Nothing left to ask
Nothing more of you
Nothing else to share or show
Nothing left but time to go
In his eyes as we turn no eternity of life
In his eyes as we turn no infinity of why
In his eyes as we turn no beautiful goodbye
In his eyes as we turn...nothing but tears
In his eyes as we turn...nothing but tears
(spoken:) I couldn't understand too much of what was being said
In a matter of minutes
Peacefully so slow
I had to think to breathe
My heart burst
We moved in silence really slowly away from the world
As we drove a strange silence
That moment
Nothing will ever be the same
Nothing will ever be the same
Nothing will ever be the same
Days fall out
Weeks always run down
Moments just fly
Weeks go by
And then we're here
And then we're here in a room too clean and too bright
I stare at you for an hour
You stare into the light
For one last hour in the room so mean and so white
You stare at me in this room as I stare into the night
Nothing left to feel
Nothing more to do
Nothing more to take
Nothing more from you
Nothing else to need or know
There's nothing left at all...but time to go

song performed by by Cure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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As Per Usual

It'll not be the first time he'll
Have said that and not meant
It and she knows oh how she
Knows that he will probably
Say it again and bring her the
Usual flowers and maybe a new
Dress two sizes too big for her
And have that look on his face
That look he used to give his
Mother when he was late home
Or if he'd not noticed her having
Had her hair done and she knows
He'll get down on his knees and
Pretend to beg for forgiveness
Yet at the back of his mind he's
Already imagining the girl in the
Office bent over her desk and him
Doing what he thinks he does best
And now as she waits for him to
Come home knowing he'll have
The words sitting on the end of
His tongue like obedient puppies
Ready for the false apology and
The flowers in one hand and the
Maybe new dress in the other and
Even though she will be able to
Smell the other woman's scent and
See her hairs on his jacket he'll
Have that dumb look about him
As if butter wouldn't melt as if ice
Wouldn't drown his drink and as
She waits for him she really just
Wants him not to come home at
All wants him to stay with the other
Woman soak into her sheets and
Into her skin with his two bit morality
And sin oh that he didn't come home
At all she mumbles as she hears his
Key in the lock and that stupid look
On his face as the door opens up and
The flowers and bag with dress in each
Hand and hair limp by the rain she knows
He'll say he loves her and she knows he
Will do it again the liar her lover the pain.

poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Back Where I Come From

In the town where I was raised
Clock ticks and the cattle graze
Time passed with amazing grace
Back where I come from.
You can lie on a riverbank
Paint your name on a water tank
Miss count all the beers you drank
Back where I come from.
Back where I come from,
Where Ill be when it is said and done,
Im proud as anyone thats where I come from.
We learned in a sunday school
Just who made the sun shine through
I know who made the moon shine too
Back where I come from
Blue eyes on a saturday night
Tan legs in the broad daylight
Tvs they were black and white
Back where I come from
Back where I come from,
Where Ill be when it is said and done,
Im proud as anyone thats where I come from.
Some say its a backwards place
Narrow minds on a narrow race
But I make it a point to say thats where I come from.
Thats where I come from,
Where Ill be when it is said and done,
Im proud as anyone thats where I come from.
Thats where I come from
Im an old tennesseean
I am as proud as any one thats where I come from
Back where I come from
Back where I come from
Back where I come from

song performed by by Kenny Chesney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The White Room

(SpringfieldVallance)
I can see her at her windows watching,
locked away inside her skin,
I can see her but I can't get to her, she won't come out,
and she won't let me into
The white room (she's living in)
Lying alone til she comes undone
In the white room, she burns for the real thing.
But it won't come.
In her head is the same obsession
and all the bottles and pills won't heal her heart.
She heard his last confession
and every word just tears her apart
In the white room (locked away)
doing time till her time is done
In the white room there's so much to say
but the words won't come.
Come back to the land of the living,
when you gonna break the chain,
there's so much too much that you're leaving
and you're never gonna stop the rain
In the white room.
waiting for the call that never comes
in the white room, she awaits.
Look at something long enough you'll find,
that the splinters and the cracks begin to show,
I'll be the first in line when the walls start falling
and she lets go of
The white room (it's late)
living alone only makes you numb
In the white room she burns for the real thing
but it won't come
In the white room (she's living in) I think its time
that you're time is done,
In the white room she burns
In the white room (it's late)
lying alone till she comes undone
In the white room she awaits
In the white room

song performed by by Rick Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Virginia Wolf

some will strut and some will fret
see this an hour on the stage
others will not but they'll sweat
in their hopelessness and their rage
we're all the same the men of anger
and women of the page
they published your diary
and that's how i got to know you
the key to the room of your own and a mind without end
and here's a young girl
on a kind of a telephone line through time
and the voice at the other end comes like a long lost friend
so i know i'm all right
life will come and life will go
still i feel it's all right
cause i just got a letter to my soul
and when my whole life is on the tip of my tongue
empty pages for the no longer young
the apathy of time laughs in my face
you say "each life has its place"
the hatches were battened
the thunderclouds rolled and the critics stormed
the battle surrounded the white flag of your youth
if you need to know that you weathered the storm
of cruel mortality
a hundred years later i'm sitting here living proof
so you know you're all right
(all right)
life will come and life will go
(life will come and go)
still you'll feel it's all right
(all right)
someone'll get a letter to your soul
(someone gets your soul)
when your whole life is on the tip of your tongue
empty pages for the no longer young
the apathy of time laughed in your face
did you hear me say "each life has its place"
the place where you hold me
dark in a pocket of truth
the moon had swallowed the sun and the light of the earth
and so it was for you
when the river eclipsed your life
and sent your soul like a message in a bottle to me
and it was my rebirth
so we know we're all right
(all right)
though life will come and life will go
(though life will come and life will go)
still you'll feel it's all right
(all right)
someone'll will get a letter to your soul
(someone gets your soul)
then you know you're all right
(when my whole life is on the tip of my tongue)
then you feel you're all right
(empty pages for the no longer young)
and your hear dry you eyes
(you said)
and you know it's all right
(each life has it's place)
and your hear dry your eyes
(you said)
and you know it's all right
(each life has it's place)
and it's all right
(it'll be all right)
words and music emily saliers
copyright 1992 bmi virgin music inc and godhap music (bmi

song performed by by Indigo Girls
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Another Night with Miss Pinkie

Miss Pinkie (she dropped
the title Mrs from
her name ages ago)
lay on the sofa

and said
take me if you want
spank me if you will
and he stood

looking at her
a glass of scotch
in his hand
the music of Mahler's

symphony number 4
coming through the door
from an outer room
she lay butt naked

her amble flesh
spread out
her hands resting
on her breasts

who's the orchestra
on the Mahler piece?
he asked
can't remember

she said shifting slightly
her blue eyes searching him
aren't you going to oblige?
she said

he drank back
the scotch
and put the glass down
on the small coffee table

can I sit first?
sure
she said and sat up
and moved over

to allow him room
beside her
he gazed at her
at her dyed blonde hair

at her eyes deep
like oceans of blueness
knowing she had
19 years upward on him

and all she wanted
was a few hours
of talk and laughter
and a leisurely screw

one of the old guys
died at the home today
he said
out of the blue

oh which one?
she asked
the one who sat
in his room each day

and looked out
the window
and said next to nothing
oh him

she said
think he was
broken hearted
she added

he took in
the beauty spot
on her cheek
like Marilyn used

to have years ago
so how about it?
she asked
are you ready for it?

the Mahler piece softened
some moving movement
well?
she said placing

a hand on his thigh
maybe you could put
on Brahms for a change
he said

sensing her hands
move upwards
maybe
she said softly

if you're a good boy
the lights were low
the lights from the street
added a different shade

of glow
ok
he said
and her hands moved

and did their work
and so did his
bit by bit
time over time

the music playing on
in the background
that and flesh slapping
and the sofa squeaking

was the symphony
of a sexual sound.

poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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