Dutch Mistress
A hotel in whose ledgers departures are more prominent than arrivals.
With wet Koh-i-noors the October rain
strokes what's left of the naked brain.
In this country laid flat for the sake of rivers,
beer smells of Germany and the seaguls are
in the air like a page's soiled corners.
Morning enters the premises with a coroner's
punctuality, puts its ear
to the ribs of a cold radiator, detects sub-zero:
the afterlife has to start somewhere.
Correspondingly, the angelic curls
grow more blond, the skin gains its distant, lordly
white, while the bedding already coils
desperately in the basement laundry.
poem by Joseph Brodsky
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Related quotes
Polly strips His bed
Polly strips back the sheets
where Master George has lain.
She folds the white sheets and
lays them on a chair. She lies
her head on the pillow where
his head has been. She sniffs
and smells him. Closing her eyes
she imagines she's there beside
him and he has her in his arms,
his lips against her flushed cheek.
She imagines they are in bed
together when dawn's light breaks
through the shutters and Susie
the other maid enters and wide
eyed she mouths a huge round O.
She opens her eyes; the pillow
is vacant beside her head, just
a small indentation where he had
laid his head the night before.
She fingers into the pocket of her
white apron a few black hairs she's
discovered on the white pillowcase.
She strips off the pillowcases and
puts them with the sheets. The bed
is now stripped of all coverings
and is left to air. She imagines as
she stands that he is still there,
laid out unclothed, skin all bare.
But in reality she knows he has
gone of to war as he has before.
She hopes he will return alive
and in one piece; no missing
limps or blind or gassed as some
have been she's read; but most of all
she dreads him laid out cold and damp
in some foreign field lying still and dead.
poem by Terry Collett
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Mutatis Mutandis
Soiled, Soiled, Soiled
Soiled, Soiled, Soiled
Soiled, Soiled...
...Of ordinary...Chemistry
There is a suggestion there, that uh, manipulation of no
Humal, compounds, brain-neuro transmitters
And that sort of thing
May in fact, open the door, to uh, untapped areas of
Human contortion
Lead us to our team...
song performed by by Mudvayne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In The Rivers Of Life
we shall be naked
in the rivers of life
we are not meant
to be wrapped like
a little package
skin to the sun
gleams at the brims
of our brain
we carry this self
for the pleasure
of the skies
here we are in the
rivers of life
swim naked
break the dress
code that enslaves
us to their humiliation
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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She Went To Germany
What you gonna do?
What you gonna do?
What you gonna do on your vacation?
What you gonna do?
What you gonna do?
What you gonna do for relaxation?
Change you name?
Cut your hair?
You can go anywhere.
You deserve some fun and rest.
You deserve the very best.
She went to germany.
Went there without me.
She went to germany.
Left me in misery.
She went to germany.
Gots some style insanity.
She went to germany.
Left me in disharmony.
Why you gonna do?
Why you gonna do?
Why you gonna do that to me baby?
Are you telling me were thru?
Are you telling me were thru?
Are you telling me were thru or is it maybe,
Just another declaration of some female independence,
Or another proclamation to some male friends in attendance.
She went to germany.
Went there without me.
She went to germany.
Left me in misery.
She went to germany.
Gots some style insanity.
She went to germany.
Left me in disharmony.
She eating wurst.
Shes drinking beer.
She loves a crowd, thats what I hear.
She went to germany.
Went there without me.
She went to germany.
Left me in misery.
She went to germany.
Gots some style insanity.
She went to germany.
Left me in disharmony.
She went to germany.
Went there without me.
She went to germany.
Left me in insanity.
She went to germany.
I gots some style in misery.
She went to germany.
Left me in disharmony.
Gordon gano: vocals, guitar
Brian ritchie: acoustic bass guitar, vocals
Guy hoffman: drums, vocals
Produced by brian ritchie and gordon gano
Recorded and mixed by david vartanian at dvs perversion room, milwaukee, wi
gorno music reprinted with permission
song performed by by Violent Femmes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Random Thoughts
i
i YET have to
see a little black girl
wishing that
she is white.
ii
that little brown girl
over there
sitting in one of the
dark corners of her own
messy tropical world
wish that her skin
is white her hair blond
her parents
either British or
American
iii
i wish that kids
shall remain as kids forever
not minding
the color of the skin
when they become
full blown
adults.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Today While Walking Along The Seashore
i realize
that departures are lovely
like arrivals
they are too
beautiful, more beautiful even
than the contentment
of having to stay,
i have seen a group of white
seagulls feeding upon a fish on the
shallow cheek
of the the very calm sea and then
i am joyed to see them in groups
leaving
as they fly away from me i wonder what
relief is left inside my heart
i have seen and felt freedom.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Poem In Waiting
When night shrouded me
In that visible darkness
I heard the sun dipping
Down into the sea
The invisible rivers silently flowed
Into their final confluence
In that silence of night
There I heard a melody
Flowing from the moon
Arising out of the sea...
A distant melody it was
From the invisible singer
A strange melody it was
Of despair and hope
Of departures and arrivals
Of sorrows and smiles
I clung to the night's blanket
And waited...
23 Aug 2011
23.15hrs
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Baby!
fresh plowed earth...
i cry out for rain!
baby, cant you hear
the sound of distant thunder?
the candle cold,
naked, and left alone,
baby, light the match!
turn the page, break down
the walls of this prison cell...
hungry, panting,
four feet running....
baby, cant you feel
the need for flesh?
poem by Eric Cockrell
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A Brown Angel
you see me
run and play
you see me
laugh and cry
but there is one place
your never see me
and i don't know why?
you see jonbenet
a tiny blond girl
who died that christmas day
her skin pale
you see her all the time
you gave her
her justice so where is mine
you see my skin
not white
but brown
you turn away
without a frown
for you never see me on tv
the only one you will see
is the kids
not like me
you see
i've died
of a horrible death
i've been raped
and beatened to death
but never once was i on
the tv and news
my face is not familiar
like samantha and jonbenet
who you see everyday
i walked alone
in this world so cold
no justice for me
my sister
and family
cause i'm brown
not white with blond hair
you see me
run and play
you see me laugh and cry
but you never once
saw me on tv
and now i know why
by: crystal sonier
age: 15
poem by Natalia Anna Joelie
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Cinema Show
------ ----
Home from work our Juliet
Clears her morning meal.
She dabs her skin with pretty smells
Concealing to appeal.
I will make my bed,
She said, but turned to go.
Can she be late for her cinema show?
Romeo locks his basement flat,
And scurries up the stair.
With head held high and floral tie,
A weekend millionaire.
I will make my bed
With her tonight, he cries.
Can he fail armed with his chocolate surprise?
Take a little trip back with father Tiresias,
Listen to the old one speak of all he has lived through.
I have crossed between the poles, for me there's no mystery.
Once a man, like the sea I raged,
Once a woman, like the earth I gave.
There es in fact more earth than sea
song performed by by Genesis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rhyming Life
rhyming life
we try it
we listen to
the drips of
rain from the
gutter
we wonder
why the rain
stops
we feel the
sensation of
sunshine like
droplets of
warm light
from the window
we pulsate
every red blood
corpuscle that
enters
the brain cells
we feel the beating
of the heart
near the other
person's heart
we listen carefully
we wish there is more
rhyme to random
arrivals of
molecules looking
for crack on the pores
of our skins
let me be honest
with you
i am numb and i
feel none.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Eyes Fastened With Pins
How much death works,
No one knows what a long
Day he puts in. The little
Wife always alone
Ironing death's laundry.
The beautiful daughters
Setting death's supper table.
The neighbors playing
Pinochle in the backyard
Or just sitting on the steps
Drinking beer. Death,
Meanwhile, in a strange
Part of town looking for
Someone with a bad cough,
But the address somehow wrong,
Even death can't figure it out
Among all the locked doors...
And the rain beginning to fall.
Long windy night ahead.
Death with not even a newspaper
To cover his head, not even
A dime to call the one pining away,
Undressing slowly, sleepily,
And stretching naked
On death's side of the bed.
poem by Charles Simic
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Afterlife
Do you believe in the afterworld
Or the afterlife?
Do you agree there's a place for us
Beyond our life
Where the timeless call for life
Is lost and you will see
The forgotten dreams
That you once had become reality
They will be set free - another day
You cannot leave if you do not want to stay
In the afterlife - in the afterlife
Life's a dream that you will forget
In the endless space
And the scars you got on planet Earth
Will be erased
You were blind until your eyes have stopped to see
And your powers unfold by the moment
You hit eternity
You will be set free
But you'll never return
That's the price you have to pay
In the afterlife - in the afterlife
Now you're gone without a word
You didn't say goodbye
I miss you here where are you now
An angel in the sky?
Your visit here has been so short
You left to be set free
But I believe we'll meet again
And together we will stay
In the afterlife - in the afterlife
In the afterlife - in the afterlife
song performed by by Gamma Ray
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Gador
Gador was left in an island
hot and bare
his mind is obsessed with the boa
with two white eggs
behind the cave where he dwells
lies the nest of the black bird
his feet do not grow
his brain smells like chloroform
he learns to love it there
and shall soon die there
only if he wills it.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Summers Here
Summers here
Im for that
Got my rubber sandals
Got my straw hat
Got my cold beer
Im just glad that Im here
Summers here
That suits me fine
It may rain today
But I dont mind
Its my favorite time of the year
And Im glad that Im here
Old man wintertime
He goes so slow
Its ten degrees below, you know
You can take your ice and snow
And let my balmy breezes blow
Yeah, the water is cold but Ive been in
Baby, lose the laundry and jump on in
I mean all gods children got skin
And its summer again
Old man wintertime
He goes so slow
Its ten degrees below, you know
You can take your ice and snow
And let my balmy breezes blow
Summers here
Im for that
Got my rubber sandals
Got my straw hat
Drinking cold beer
Man Im just that Im here
Its my favorite time of the year
And Im glad that Im here, yeah
song performed by by James Taylor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tabula Rasa.
Rondel Prime.
A pristine page of purest white.
A challenge that I can't resist.
Although I try my muse insists.
I take my pen and start to write.
I quickly find to my delight
My muse is ready to assist.
A pristine page of purest white.
A challenge that I can't resist.
An empty page a welcome sight
To a poetic formalist
Or even to a modernist.
To anyone compelled to write.
A pristine page of purest white.
A challenge that I can't resist.
Sunday,14 October 2012.
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Reading poetry on the Web
i wade through rivers
of diamonds, rubies,
plain rocks and stones
that criss cross the world
picking up gems
poetry on the web
i wade through rivers
to get to international souls
sacred rivers of all kinds
ganges, indus, nile, mekong
chao phraya
filled with stones
heads of all kinds,
round, flat, sharp,
black, white, green,
brown, yellow, big and small,
sand, silt, gravel,
between them when lucky
precious gems turn up to greet me
fishes help spread the magic
liven up nooks and corners
some sprint, some plain swim
among these, the best rivers
are crystal clear,
a dazzling picture of sky, heaven
taking the breath of god
as they whisper a poetic tale
immediately marked in gold by the morning sun
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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(For Dónall) Arrival
You're waiting
under the Arrivals board
in your flying black mac
(or magician's gown...
it's an academic distinction...)
your silver coils of curls
flowing from your worried frown.
And when the train at last
rocks and rolls me up to Platform Ten,
I'm running then, and running fast,
upstream of tired faces in grey suits
and I'm colliding with your warmth,
meeting your soft mouth
with my own eager kiss
and knowing that all day
we both have longed for this.
poem by Janice Windle
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Prominent Men
Through all of the highways, the byways Ive travelled
Through all of the sidestreets and alleys of sin
Through all thats been heard nothing sinks quite as low
As the prominent statements of prominent men
Prominent men tell prominent stories
Prominent men tell prominent lies
Prominent men kiss the ass of dame fortune
Prominent men will tear out your eyes
The streets that have life with the cats underbelly
Aligned with their tracks of a thousand good-byes
A poor woman screams with the heat of disaster
As the prominent men sit and strengthen their ties
Oh, the prominent girls of the prominent people
Make prominent dresses and prominent hair
Oh, their prominent wealth and their eyes blazed with shadow
The prominent horrors with the ghost millionaire
The shiny stained window now cracked at sunset
They shiny red dawn of the heart soon must fall
This simply occurred at the seat of the cauldron
Those prominent men hadnt been there at all
Prominent men tell prominent stories
Prominent men tell prominent lies
Prominent men kiss the ass of dame fortune
Prominent men will tear out your eyes
Oh, the prominent child of these prominent people
Seeks prominent schools with the finery of age
With a prominent pink of a tasteless red orchid
The prominent men casts a prominent heir
The child of the agent walks barefoot upon grass
He screams with a power that terrors green eyes
His knife harshly glistening, stabs noways and always
But those prominent men in nowhere in sight
Prominent men tell prominent stories
Prominent men tell prominent lies
Prominent men kiss the ass of dame fortune
Prominent men will tear out your eyes
song performed by by Velvet Underground
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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They Will Just Come And Open Themselves
it is enough that we are all here.
need we need more than our respective presences?
the clouds appear above us, the simply pass and we see white skies.
Departures have their own way of leaving,
in the same manner as arrivals.
why look for things which we cannot yet find?
time ripens and become so sweet
for us to gather and savor
we are all here and we just wait for the seasons
for those that come
they are all for us
reserved and offered and soon shall be opened.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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