En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Separate bedrooms
speak volumes in silent grief
over old loves' tombs.

haiku by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It is difficult sharing and capturing so many years of memories and the people behind the words-and even though that guest book can speak volumes, in between, the pages remain so silent.

quote by Eugenie Anderson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It's great when you find somebody you're compatible with, but I'm really into separate bedrooms. You live your life and I live mine.

quote by Claudia Christian
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Cat And The Dog In The House Of Their Master

today the cat and the dog of this house
have a holiday of their eternal quarrel
and jealousy
none speaks a bad word for each other
none of them
initiates an argument about whom
of them the master
loves better
none of them
speaks ill about the other neighboring cats
or dogs
the dog does not speak about the bone
the cat does not speak about the rats
both of them are silent and sad
and none wants to speak
beside their master

sick and dying.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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311

today the cat and the dog of this house
have a holiday of their eternal quarrel
and jealousy

none speaks a bad word for each other
none of them
initiates an argument about whom
of them the master
loves better

none of them
speaks ill about the other neighboring cats
or dogs

the dog does not speak about the bone
the cat does not speak about the rats

both of them are silent and sad
and none wants to speak
beside their master

he is sick and dying.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Test your tolerance

The joint family system has cracked.
To the nuclear family has come to stay.
The couple will use separate bedrooms.
Tolerance is on decline.The stress, too.
25.03.2000, Palakkad

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Seperate Lives

You called me from the room in your hotel
All full of romance for someone that you met
And telling me how sorry you were, leaving so soon
And that you miss me sometimes when youre alone in your room
Do I feel lonely too?
You have no right to ask me how I feel
You have no right to speak to me so kind
We cant go on just holding on to time
Now that were living separate lives
Well I held on to let you go
And if you lost your love for me, well you never let it show
There was no way to compromise
So now were living (living)
Separate lives
Ooh, its so typical, love leads to isolation
So you build that wall (build that wall)
Yes, you build that wall (build that wall)
And you make it stronger
Well you have no right to ask me how I feel
You have no right to speak to me so kind
Some day I might (I might) find myself looking in your eyes
But for now, well go on living separate lives
Yes for now, well go on living separate lives
Separate lives

song performed by by Phil Collins (1985)
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Separate Lives

You called me from the room in your hotel
All full of romance for someone that you met
And telling me how sorry you were, leaving so soon
And that you miss me sometimes when youre alone in your room
Do I feel lonely too?
You have no right to ask me how I feel
You have no right to speak to me so kind
We cant go on just holding on to time
Now that were living separate lives
Well I held on to let you go
And if you lost your love for me, well you never let it show
There was no way to compromise
So now were living (living)
Separate lives
Ooh, its so typical, love leads to isolation
So you build that wall (build that wall)
Yes, you build that wall (build that wall)
And you make it stronger
Well you have no right to ask me how I feel
You have no right to speak to me so kind
Some day I might (I might) find myself looking in your eyes
But for now, well go on living separate lives
Yes for now, well go on living separate lives
Separate lives

song performed by by Phil Collins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You remember some bedrooms you have slept in. There are bedrooms you like to remember and others you would like to forget.

quote by Carl Sandburg
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Blue Blooded Woman

Blue blooded womans
She loves a violin, I love a fiddle
We go separate ways but we meet in the middle
Dont see eye to eye but were hand in hand
A blue blooded woman and a redneck man
The lady I love loves silk and satin
She was raised uptown with a silver spoon
Well, I was born on a farm just south of jackson
We had an old ford tractor and a country moon
She loves a violin, I love a fiddle
We go separate ways but we meet in the middle
Dont see eye to eye but were hand in hand
A blue blooded woman and a redneck man
Shes saks fifth avenue perfection
Caviar and dignified
Well, I live my life in wal mart fashion
And I like my sushi southern fried
She loves a violin, I love a fiddle
We go separate ways but we meet in the middle
Dont see eye to eye but were hand in hand
A blue blooded woman and a redneck man
She loves a violin, I love a fiddle
We go separate ways but we meet in the middle
Dont see eye to eye but were hand in hand
A blue blooded woman and a redneck man
Shes a blue blooded woman, Im a redneck man.

song performed by by Alan Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cool Tombs

When Abraham Lincoln was shoveled into the tombs he forgot
the copperheads and the assassin . . . in the dust, in the
cool tombs.

And Ulysses Grant lost all thought of con men and Wall Street,
cash and collateral turned ashes . . . in the dust, in the
cool tombs.

Pocahontas' body, lovely as a poplar, sweet as a red haw in
November or a pawpaw in May, did she wonder? does she
remember? . . . in the dust, in the cool tombs?

Take any streetful of people buying clothes and groceries,
cheering a hero or throwing confetti and blowing tin
horns . . . tell me if the lovers are losers . . . tell me if any
get more than the lovers . . . in the dust . . . in the cool
tombs.

poem by Carl Sandburg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To be among people one loves, that's sufficient; to dream, to speak to them, to be silent among them, to think of indifferent things; but among them, everything is equal.

quote by Jean de la Bruyere
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Suffer In Silence

silent are the dreams
silent are the screams
wither, i will crumple and faint
silent are the tears that flow down my cheek
silent is the storm that is brewing
silent is the bleeding wound
quiet is my sorrow
grief in chains
mute and mourning
my sorrow in despair
in violence tranquil
wailful in silence suffer i will
coz that my love is your wish

poem by Reshma Ramesh
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There are silences that speak volumes as there are words that mean nothing.

quote by Edith Piaf
Submitted by anonym
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Words for Sergeant Dakota Meyer, USMC – CMH

Someday when your construction job has helped you heal
I hope through google and the further mystery of the internet
These words will find you
The President did not speak falsely
In your dark valley you are far from alone
Your comrades - living and dead – are not alone
Indeed a nation grieves with you
Your truth is proofed
Your honor is secure
You are not alone
You are not alone
The medal is our grief
It is not your grief
Keep your grief – keep your grief
It will heal you
It will heal you
Keep your grief
The Medal is a souvenir from a place
Where there are no shops

poem by Bill Grace
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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From the West to Somewhere in the East.

Just remember your corruption is worse then are's.
I don't blame you for feeling so left out.
If you have voice you must speak it, and speak it in volumes to be actually heard.
It's a hit or a miss kind of thing.
Sometimes reaching is not of the clouds but of the ground.
Feel that dirt, squeeze it in your hand and remember your still here.
And just maybe it won't disappear.

poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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He loves me, He loves me not

He loves me,
he loves me not

Like a fairy tale
a flower pedal
represents love,
but of course

He loves me,
he loves me not

There is no
I'm not sure's
or I like you, but's
just seven little words

He loves me,
He loves me not

There are no other girls
no jelousy or pain
no arguments, no humiliation
it all falls into

He loves me,
He loves me not

But what if...
it doesn't exist
if love is truly such a fairy tale
then explain this:

He loves me,
He loves me not
He loves me,
He loves me not
He loves me,

He loves me not

poem by Bailey Logan
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Loves On The Line

Tell me baby
Have we lost everything that we had before
What do you do in the day
When I walk out the door
I can see you made up your mind
And I know our loves on the line
Loves on the line, our loves on the line
Loves on the line, our loves on the line
Loves on the line, our loves on the line
With each passing day
I gotta watch more and more what I say to you
I can feel your eyes looking through me
As I sit at the table at dinnertime
I can feel our loves on the line
Loves on the line, our loves on the line
Loves on the line, our loves on the line
Loves on the line, our loves on the line
I watch our kids
Growin up, going to school
Is there anything else for us now
Are we both just fools
Wasting our precious time
At night we lay in bed
But its like youre not even there
Theres something real bad
Going wrong somewhere
Last night I heard you cry
And I know our loves on the line
Loves on the line, our loves on the line
Loves on the line, our loves on the line
Loves on the line, our loves on the line
Loves on the line

song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Silent Language Of Grief

tears are the silent language of grief
Taht mostly provide us comfort and grief
When once they quietly all fall down
On grass that's green or on mud taht is brown

Because they are very precious and rare
that no one whenever wants can spare
Becaus eit only comes with the pain
that we get like an unpredictable rain

So then after facing agony and distress
And all life's lies, fib and mistrust
What is left for us to feel
That afterwards every one has to deal

Is the silent language of our grief
that gives us way to find a relief
Through the path of life's precious tear
That not only sounds but is very rare.

poem by Seema Chowdhury
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Diamonds Are From Forever

Silent, they speak
of the elemental:
clear as water, clear as air,
bright as fire, sparkling as sunlight,
hot from the Sun, cold as ice,
yet created out of blackest earth
by forces beyond our imagination

and I wouldn’t be surprised
if one day they’ll be found
to emit a sound so far beyond heard sound
that only dolphins and eagles may
hear it a thousand miles away and smile;
elemental, the most beautiful paradox
of the so practical, created world

and sparkling at the throat, on ears,
the haloed tiara on the up-piled hair,
but most of all, upon the outstretched finger - look -
silent, they speak: he loves me; or,
I am loved; or, this is the love
I draw to me; or, this is the love
I have in me to give

silent, they speak
of the spark of a severed sun,
spinning a solar system of such
solemn, sparkling paradox – a burning Sun,
a fertile planet Earth, revolving
around each other like forever lovers
who need each other to be one -
an incandescent mass of already
cooling planet beyond all
measured heat; of something

even beyond paradox, that could create
by laws of nature which we can only now begin to imitate,
something so ordinary a pebble yet
so beautiful when polished, treasured,
that it’s a metaphor for love;
silent, sparkling with
the laughing, bright-eyed question -

who created love?

poem by Michael Shepherd
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Could It Be Love? Again?

if you challenge him
he will not answer you

acceptance for that challenge to be separate
lives on separate feelings
on separate beds and
can be as silent as feathers falling on a silk bed

then silently he turns into a line of red ants
taking slowly bits of leaves
from your hair
and some tiny grains in a secret place
of his heart
buried somewhere else that even his eyes that see
do not know
where is it exactly

where is it?
where is the new home of the
bleeding heart?
where can it rest finally when it is healed?

he does not tell you
he is building his dreams again
block by block into an
invisible tower reaching
another sky

orange and red
fusing into a
flaming hell

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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