One white winter week:
Paris turns the other cheek,
afraid to speak.
haiku by Jonathan Robin (13 January 1993)
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Winter Message
A flake of snow in flurry thro’ the air
Had landed as a kiss upon my cheek:
A secret message, just for me to share;
To take to heart but never dare to speak
About or presuppose to other eyes
Your open feelings – distant though they are.
And so, upon your lips, my OWN surprise:
A flake of snow returned from me afar.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
winter winter winter winter icy winter
winter winter winter winter icy winter
winter winter winter winter icy winter
winter winter winter winter icy winter
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cheek To Cheek
Irving berlin
Heaven, Im in heaven
And my heart beats so that I can hardly speak
And I seem to find the happiness I seek
When were out together dancing cheek to cheek
Heaven, Im in heaven
And the cares that hung around me through the week
Seem to vanish like a gamblers lucky streak
When were out together dancing cheek to cheek
*:
Oh I love to climb a mountain
And to reach the highest peak
But it doesnt thrill me half as much
As dancing cheek to cheek
Oh I love to go out fishing
In a river or a creek
But I dont enjoy it half as much
As dancing cheek to cheek
**:
Dance with me, I want my arms about you
The charm about you
Will carry me through
To heaven, Im in heaven
And my heart beats so that I can hardly speak
And I seem to find the happiness I seek
When were out together dancing cheek to cheek
(repeat *)
(repeat **)
song performed by by Billie Holiday
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cheek To Cheek
Heaven, I'm in heaven
And my heart beats so that I can hardly speak
And I seem to find the happiness I seek
When we're out together dancing cheek to cheek
Heaven, I'm in heaven
And the cares that hung around me through the week
Seem to vanish like a gambler's lucky streak
When we're out together dancing (swinging) cheek to cheek
Oh I love to climb a mountain
And reach the highest peak
But it doesn't thrill (boot) me half as much
As dancing cheek to cheek
Oh I love to go out fishing
In a river or a creek
But I don't enjoy it half as much
As dancing cheek to cheek
Now Mamma Dance with me
I want my arm(s) about you
That (Those) charm(s) about you
Will carry me through...
(Right up) To heaven, I'm in heaven
And my heart beats so that I can hardly speak
And I seem to find the happiness I seek
When we're out together dancing, out together dancing (swinging)
Out together dancing cheek to cheek
song performed by by Louis Armstrong
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cheek To Cheek
Heaven, Im in heaven
And my heart beats so that I can hardly speak
And I seem to find the happiness I seek
When were out together dancing cheek to cheek
Heaven, Im in heaven
And the cares that hung around me through the week
Seem to vanish like a gamblers lucky streak
When were out together dancing (swinging) cheek to cheek
Oh I love to climb a mountain
And reach the highest peak
But it doesnt thrill (boot) me half as much
As dancing cheek to cheek
Oh I love to go out fishing
In a river or a creek
But I dont enjoy it half as much
As dancing cheek to cheek
(come on and) dance with me
I want my arm(s) about you
That (those) charm(s) about you
Will carry me through...
(right up) to heaven, Im in heaven
And my heart beats so that I can hardly speak
And I seem to find the happiness I seek
When were out together dancing, out together dancing (swinging)
Out together dancing cheek to cheek
Instrumental version
song performed by by Irving Berlin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Love Paris
Every time I look down on this timeless town,
Whether blue or gray be her skies,
Whether loud be her cheers, or whether soft be her tears,
More and more do I realize that...
I love paris in the spring time
I love paris in the fall
I love paris in the summer when it sizzles
I
Love paris in the winter when it drizzles
I love paris every moment
Every moment of the year
I love
Paris, why oh why do I love paris
Because my love is here
song performed by by Ella Fitzgerald
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Love Paris
Nat king cole
(cole porter)
(can-can)
Every time I look down on this timeless town
Whether blue or gray be her skies.
Whether loud be her cheers or soft be her tears,
More and more do I realize:
I love paris in the springtime.
I love paris in the fall.
I love paris in the winter when it drizzles,
I love paris in the summer when it sizzles.
I love paris every moment,
Every moment of the year.
I love paris, why, oh why do I love paris?
Because my love is near.
song performed by by Nat King Cole
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wednesday Week
The movies save on conversation
And the tv saves on sight
We met in a head-on collision
So I would say our chances would be slight
You can lead and I will follow
See us dancing cheek to cheek
Youll remember me tomorrow
But you wont give a damn by wednesday week
Say you love me until you do so
Joso singing just like caruso
Three little words roll off your tongue
Somehow your face just doesnt look so young
You say you want to strike a bargain
Now there is no need to speak
You say you want to learn the jargon
But you wont give a damn by wednesday week
You start acting like a zombie
Someone wants your piece of cake
You think you want to jump up on me
But you wont give a damn by wednesday week
Oh what a letdown when the battle was finally won
One little breakdown and then it was over and done
I wish I had your confidence
Its love and not coincidence
Do you say these words to everyone ?
Youre fantastic, youre terrific
Your excellence is almost scientific
You took the words out of my mouth
You put the tongue into my cheek
But Id better lose my memory by wednesday week
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Baby's Age
She came with April blooms and showers;
We count her little life by flowers.
As buds the rose upon her cheek,
We choose a flower for every week.
A week of hyacinths, we say,
And one of heart's-ease, ushered May;
And then because two wishes met
Upon the rose and violet --
I liked the Beauty, Kate, the Nun --
The violet and the rose count one.
A week the apple marked with white;
A week the lily scored in light;
Red poppies closed May's happy moon,
And tulips this blue week in June.
Here end as yet the flowery links;
To-day begins the week of pinks;
But soon -- so grave, and deep, and wise
The meaning grows in Baby's eyes,
So VERY deep for Baby's age --
We think to date a week with sage!
poem by Henry Timrod
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The Idler’s Calendar. Twelve Sonnets For The Months. January
COVER SHOOTING
The week at Whinwood next to Christmas week.
Six guns, no more, but all good men and true,
Of the clean--visaged sort, with ruddy cheek
Which knows not care. Light--hearted Montagu
At the cover's end, as down the wind they flew,
Has stopped his score of pheasants, every beak,
Without more thought of Juliet than of you;
And still I hear his loud--mouthed Purdeys speak.
Tybalt and Paris, with a bet on hand,
Have fired at the same woodcock. ``Truce,'' say I,
``To civil jars.'' For look, as by command,
Bunch following bunch, a hundred pheasants fly.
Now battle, murder, death on every side!
Right, left, left, right, we pile up agony,
Till night stops all. Then home in chastened pride,
With aching heads, our slaughter satisfied.
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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Glorious Winter
Come, oh most glorious Winter
Be quick to lay your silence down
Blanket us with your white coverlet
And i will wear my Green Christmas gown...
We will revel in your snowflakes-
Delight in a skate upon your iced over pond
Build forts and ramparts with much glee
Form a White Winter Bond...;
Come, oh most glorious Winter
We welcome your haunting White Noise...
All your white lanes all aglitter
Trees branches weighted-with White Winter Poise;
All agleaming and crisp making...
Comes thru the Decembers quick air
Completely dressed up in your Winter White
Oh, most Glorious White Winter, so fair!
poem by Theodora Onken
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To Afraid to Speak
There are words that my mouth is too afraid to speak.
I fear if I speak them then all that I know will be destroyed.
But then again I am also afraid if I don’t speak them I will never grow.
And without growth all I hold dear could fade away.
What should I do?
Should I live in fear and never speak the words?
Or should I take a chance and speak them in hope of growth instead of destruction?
I don’t know.
Who would believe a man as brave as I am would be afraid to speak three little words…?
“I Love You”
Fundamental of Liar Chapter XCVI: Fear
I don’t afraid of being old, I’m only afraid of being weak
I don’t afraid of being ugly, I’m only afraid of being useless
I don’t afraid of being nameless, I’m only afraid of being not loved
I don’t afraid of being lost, I’m only afraid of being blind
I don’t afraid of being dumb, I’m only afraid of being hopeless
I don’t afraid of being poor, I’m only afraid of being ungrateful
I don’t afraid of being loser, I’m only afraid of being coward
I don’t afraid of being bound, I’m only afraid of being fake
I don’t afraid of being wrong, I’m only afraid of being oblivious
I don’t afraid of being suffered, I’m only afraid of being surrender
I don’t afraid of being alone, I’m only afraid of being bored
I don't afraid of being loss, I'm only afraid of being lied
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Afraid?
Too many people are afraid to speak.
Is it because they're too damned weak?
Afraid to stand out
afraid to shout
or just plain afraid and meek?
Too many people are afraid to yell.
Is it because they're afraid of hell?
Afraid of the crowd,
afraid to be loud
or just plain afraid of death's knell?
Too many people are afraid to hear.
Is it because of what they fear?
Afraid of the unknown,
afraid to be shown
or just plain afraid of what isn't clear?
Fear, fear
It is always here.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Paris, Please Accept Me, As A Human Refugee
paris................
o paris................
Y paris................
the patience, eating the happiness
the pain, eating the patience
and the pain, eating the pain
I AM SICK, paris
treat me, sister
paris................
o paris................
Y paris................
exile, on my papers
restrained, ..
in my lines
so free me, paris
treat me, paris
I BELONG TO YOU, ..
sister
my home, the colours of MONET
my room, is a water flower
my air..
is the scent of FRANCE
and my refuge..
is a place by RENOIR shrine
so take me paris..
as your..
renoirian..
REFUGEE.
poem by Ahmed Khaled
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Winter Is White
WINTER IS WHITE
Winter is white
.......dogwood white
..............forgetfulness
......... ..........an empty slate
Winter is windy
.......windless words
..............empty words
....................drifting aimlessly
Winter is cold
.......deedless words
..............barrenness
............ ........suffering cold
What sound goes there?
What meaning fills the void?
These white lies of life
...............blown sands –– no trace
.....................................–– no path
.....................blindness––no seeking
...................................... ––no faith
No seeing here
No leading love
White and no light
White and no sight
White and no flight
- March 6,2008
poem by Ben Gieske
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In Paris With You
Don't talk to me of love. I've had an earful
And I get tearful when I've downed a drink or two.
I'm one of your talking wounded.
I'm a hostage. I'm maroonded.
But I'm in Paris with you.
Yes I'm angry at the way I've been bamboozled
And resentful at the mess I've been through.
I admit I'm on the rebound
And I don't care where are we bound.
I'm in Paris with you.
Do you mind if we do not go to the Louvre
If we say sod off to sodding Notre Dame,
If we skip the Champs Elysées
And remain here in this sleazy
Old hotel room
Doing this and that
To what and whom
Learning who you are,
Learning what I am.
Don't talk to me of love. Let's talk of Paris,
The little bit of Paris in our view.
There's that crack across the ceiling
And the hotel walls are peeling
And I'm in Paris with you.
Don't talk to me of love. Let's talk of Paris.
I'm in Paris with the slightest thing you do.
I'm in Paris with your eyes, your mouth,
I'm in Paris with... all points south.
Am I embarrassing you?
I'm in Paris with you.
poem by James Fenton
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Saturday Night (Is The Loneliest Night In The Week)
Saturday night is the loneliest night in the week
'Cause that's the night that my sweetie and I
Used to dance cheek to cheek
I don't mind Sunday night at all
'Cause that's the night friends come to call
And Monday to Fridays go fast
And another week is past
But Saturday night is the loneliest night in the week
I sing the song that I sang for the memories I usually seek
Until I hear you at the door
Until you're in my arms once more
Saturday night is the loneliest night in the week
I sing a lonely song
And everything seems wrong
You know saturday night is the loneliest night in the week
And I sing a song for the memories I usually seek
Until I hear you nocking at my door
Until you're in my arms once more
Saturday night is the loneliest night
Saturday night is the doggone lonelest night in the week
Until I hear you at the door
Until you're in my arms once more
Saturday night is the loneliest night in the week
song performed by by Barry Manilow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hope And Pray
(Justin Hayward)
I see the headlights
Shining on the wall
It seems I've got a visitor
who is kind enough to call
CHORUS
And I hope and pray, everyday
I hope and pray it's you
I thought I heard some footsteps
On the floor
And tell me am I dreaming
Or is someone at the door
CHORUS
Autumn turns to winter
And winter turns to spring
I only know the passing of the days
And if you were to ask me
About the meaning of my life
It kind of lost its meaning
On the day you went away
You know that when it comes
To matters of the heart
I thought I had it covered
But it's tearing me apart
CHORUS
Autumn turns to winter
And winter turns to spring
The summer sun still lingers
In my head
If it wasn't for the letters
That you wrote me from the heart
I'd sometimes wonder baby
If I dreamed it all instead
You see I've got to feel your hand
Upon my face
I need to get the calling
To rejoin the human race
CHORUS
-------------------------------------------
song performed by by Moody Blues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You are afraid
To write in English is your burden
You fear the grammar of the white man
You are afraid of its intricacies
why?
because your heart is not?
don't mind it, you simply want to share with full respect
to use their language
you could have used your own and be smooth with its facilities
but you also want to be a part of this world
to think american to speak english
who know if
He finds your poem good
Enough if
He feels the beating in your heart that
There is a flow
Of gladness
In your own way of being a part of this humanity that
There is joy
In your outlook that
You have a certain projection
About love sickness death redemption life
who knows?
Honestly
Now go
Write the language where you are
At home
Write the meaning of your riddles
At your convenience
Do not be afraid of English or Indian
Strictures
do not be afraid to commit mistakes
do not be afraid to go to prison
You will speak your language
You will sing your own song
you have been in this prison
for how long?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Death at the Window
This morning, while we sat in talk
Of spring and apple-bloom,
Lo! Death stood in the garden walk,
And peered into the room.
Your back was turned, you did not see
The shadow that he made.
He bent his head and looked at me;
It made my soul afraid.
The words I had begun to speak
Fell broken in the air.
You saw the pallor of my cheek,
And turned--but none was there.
He came as sudden as a thought,
And so departed too.
What made him leave his task unwrought?
It was the sight of you.
Though Death but seldom turns aside
From those he means to take,
He would not yet our hearts divide,
For love and pity's sake.
poem by Robert Fuller Murray
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