Looking Through the Liquid Bottle of Shame
Looking through the liquid bottle of shame
often drags ones foot to the grave
is it a fountain of youth...nay
but one that keeps me for every on my toes
because the blank spaces in mind
seem to tumble to my dreams
Its ones that I would rather not relive again
poem by Kaila George
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Facing a Blank: Part 1
I sit here facing a blank
and it is perhaps one of the hardest things I do
to see before me an expanse of blank things
to decide how I should fill them in
there is everything to encompass
for all the world to see, itself looking back
a mirror wouldn't do,
because the truth merely hides behind mirrors
it does not look out through them.
every random thought that I notice out of the corner of my eye
has its own appeal and appeals to me
to use it to fill the blank spaces.
To every random thought I look and in them I see the world
every one of them looking out at me and crying
for recognition and redemption
and the blank spaces agree that this is not what I should put down.
So I sit here still, facing a blank.
poem by Poet Dragon
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Blank
Blank pages, blank lines
Blank heart, blank mind
Blank feeling, blank soul
Blank high, blank low.
I dont know why
You just cant see
That all you've ever known
Is the blank side of me.
Tabula Rasa
this is a blank wall
or as you wish it, this could be a blank page,
or you may consider this
a blank mind of a child and
you will be teaching him
some things for the first time,
go, scroll, and find something,
do you remember now, why the child is still in pain?
why the walls are stronger? why the blank page still have stains
of blood in there?
some sad memories that refuse to leave?
don't lose hope, there are still more blank spaces of the mind
imagine it to be some kind of a sky
now, put the stars and the moon, and try wishing
someth ing nice and beautiful
like a boat filled with flowers and some light and then silently it sails
on a very peaceful sea like a fine silky cloth covering the dining table
to the place that you always dream to live
forever.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Ramones own the fountain of youth. Experiencing us is like having the fountain of youth.
quote by Joey Ramone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Devil In The Bottle
(gary rossington - dale krantz rossington - johnny vanzant)
Well, theres a devil in the bottle, staring straight at me
Daring me to reach out, but I know hes testing me
If I take just one sip, I become that devils son
Act a fool, sell my soul before God and everyone
Oh lord, I know, I only hurt the ones I love
Im walkin down this dead end road, all alone and by myself
Wish I could blame the whiskey, but I can only blame myself
Running out of chances, and lord thats such a crime
I got to find the answer before I lose my mind
Oh lord its a cryin shame, oh lord Ive caused so much pain
I only hurt the ones I love
Theres a devil in a bottle that just wont let me be
So many times Ive been hurtin my soul and family
But I got free on the day I fought the
Devil in the bottle
The next time that ol devil tries to get the best of me
Ill smash that bottle against the wall and know Im finally free
Theres a devil in a bottle that just wont let me be
Theres so many times I let him hurt me
I got free the day I fought the
Devil in the bottle
Devil in the bottle
Devil in the bottle
song performed by by Lynyrd Skynyrd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Blank
I wish I was blank
I wish I was blank
I wish I could thank
I wish I was blank
I'd write a letter to you
And there'd be nothing to it
I wouldn't hem and haw
On just how to start it
I wish I was blank
I wish I was blank
I wish I could thank
I wish I was blank
I wish I'd stand up straight
I wish I'd said things different
I wish I'd said nothing
Things would be so perfect
I wish myself to keep
I pray my soul to sleep
I wish myself away
I wish I was blank
song performed by by Smashing Pumpkins from The Aeroplane Flies High
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Foutain of Youth
The fountain of youth exists within us.
To find the rare elixir is the task.
Without it, life is destined for sickness
And brief existence; With it, life will last
A very long and joyous time it brings.
Imbibe the water that flows in the well
That is fed from five meandering springs.
Then daily sip and swallow; never tell
A soul and jealously guard its secrets
Of health, longevous treasure. Keep your mind
As pure as the liquid quaffed and get set
For spiritual uplifting. To find
This elusive potion I must profess:
Seek but don’t overlook the obvious.
poem by Albert Ahearn
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Like A Fountain Of Water
Like a fountain of water
Kissing you throughout
You will like the latter
What it is all about.
Like a fountain of water
Flowing endlessly
Like a waterfall in a far away site
What is its whereabouts?
Like a fountain of water
I dream of you
Forever flowing in my mind
A hand touching my heart.
Like a fountain of water
Expunging the errs in my life
Waiting for fate to strike
It all changes my mind.
poem by Georgia Leana Benedictos
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Liquid Depression(1)
I remember those days
Walking around in a haze
Not knowing coming or going
Parties here and parties there all in fun
Then one day the depression begun
Drinking just to get by
Not knowing why
Sometimes I cry
Telling lies to hide the truth
From my own self for sure
Everyone else could see
They all knew it wasn't me
Something just wasn't right
Liquid depression in plain sight
Taking control
Drowning memories day and night
Couldn't stop try as I might
Then one day right out of the blue
I saw the light
She was already gone
Left this town
So a new love I found
The old memories no longer hung around
With no more memories to drown
I laid the bottle down
Freed my mind of liquid depression
Became a new man
No depression of anykind
Could you find in my mind
poem by Frankie Stamey
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What I Have Seen #1
I saw a mother give wine to her boy-
The rain-drops fall and fall:
The pride of his parents, a household joy,
A mother's blessing, her all.
I saw the cheek of the youth grow red-
The rain falls over the lea:
The light of his eye shone like jewels, they said:
It spoke of ruin to me.
I saw the youth drink again and again-
The rain falls heavy and fast:
I saw the mother's brow furrowed with pain,
She was reaping her harvest at last.
I saw the youth go staggering by-
The rain-drops beat and beat:
Dulled was the light of his beautiful eye;
I saw him fall in the street.
I heard the rabble cry, 'Shame! oh! shame!'
The rain-drops sob and sob:
I heard the drunkard's once-honored name
Shouted aloud by the mob.
I saw the youth carried home to his door-
The rain-drops sob and sigh:
Saw the friends shun him, who sought him before,
Saw him sink lower, and die.
I saw the stone that bore only his name-
The rain-drops mutter and rave:
I saw the mother with sorrow and shame
Bowed to the brink of the grave.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Never Die
Hands on a window pane
Watching some children laugh and play
They're running in circles
With candy canes and French braids
Inspired to question
What makes us grown-ups anyway?
Let's search for the moment
When youth betrayed itself to age
So let the children play
Inside your heart always
And death you will defy
'Cause your youth will never die
Never Die
In searching for substance
We're clouded by struggle's haze
Remember the meaning
Of playing out in the rain
We swim in the fountain
Of youth's timeless maze
If you drink the water
Your youth will never fade
So let the children play
Inside your heart always
And death you will defy
'Cause your youth will never die
Never Die
Never Die
Never Die
I won't let go of that youthful soul
Despite body and mind my youth will never die
I won't let go of that youthful soul
Despite body and mind my youth will never die
[Guitar Break]
So let the children play
Inside your heart always
And death you will defy
'Cause your youth will never die
So let the children play
Inside your heart always
And death you will defy
'Cause your youth will never die
Never Die
song performed by by Creed from Human Clay
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To Be Candid With You....
everyone is looking for
that secret garden
with a fountain or spring
where eternal youth can
be taken
everyone is finding a clue
to that perfect hue
something to subdue, and only for the few
that perfect chew
everyone wants to write
the perfect rhyme of a poem
that gluttony of fame
the avarice of shame
today, i take courage in
facing everyone
to tell them
candidly, that there is no such thing
as a secret garden
or that eternal youth of fountain or spring
nothing about a perfect clue to
a perfect hue,
no such thing as a perfect chew
no such thing too as a perfect poem
with that perfect rhyme
there is only you,
always searching,
the imperfect one, always looking for something
that is not you
that is not here
you are you,
you are not perfect
you get old,
and then you die and
then you're gone
that is the truth,
and there is no other.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Allowing Spaces To Be Blank
Allowing spaces to be blank
creates a hidden presence for
the inspiration you can draw
by drawing from the mind,
a bank in which the thoughts you stored
lie unproductively, and find
ideas that you had left behind,
to be from blanks, when checked, restored.
Blank spaces are not solid, but
you’ll only find them if you dig,
researching them, a truffle pig
whose nose is sharp and mind not shut,
discovering within the hollow,
provided that your search is stolid,
the evidence you think is solid,
supporting views you chose to follow.
Inspired from a blog in the NYT in which I learned a new word, digg––digg.com, a user-driven news Web site, brings together hundreds of thousands of people to do the work of finding, submitting, reviewing and featuring news stories drawn from every corner of the Web––and was reminded about Willa Cather’s amazing story “The Sculptor’s Funeral, ” which, as the blogger points out, leaves blank spaces that create an “inexplicable presence”:
In Willa Cather's 'The Sculptor's Funeral, ' a train pulls up to a snowy Kansas town, carrying a coffin. The story is up now at Harper Perennial's site Fifty-Two Stories, which, as you might guess, will be posting a story a week all year long. So far, they've posted pieces by Mary Gaitskill, Louise Erdrich, Tom Piazza and Tony O'Neill, all contemporary authors with books from the publisher. Cather's story will be in their April collection 'The Bohemian Girl: Stories.' Originally published in 1905, the story can also be found elsewhere on the Internet, but the Fifty-Two Stories version is laid out well (and you can digg it) . After reading the minimalists that came later in the 20th century, a story like Cather's 'The Sculptor's Funeral' seems like it is naming pretty much everything. But it's interesting to look back and see where she was deliberately leaving blank spaces, creating an 'inexplicable presence' in the quiet form of the sculptor, whose imaginative art was lost on the place he called home.
© 2009 Gershon Hepner 2/20/09
poem by Gershon Hepner
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Fountain Of Youth
Faith is a fountain of youth and statues,
Once they build the fountain's breath, it devalues.
poem by Naveed Akram
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The fountain of youth with the youthful young musician is one meaning, and the fountain of youth with the youthful energy of the leader is another meaning.
quote by Roy Haynes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shame On You
Somebody tryin to take my soul
Nobody gotta hear my rock n roll
Shame, shame, shame on you babe
Shame, shame, shame on you babe
No leader, steady as a ghost
Tooth sweeter, powdering her nose
Shame, shame, shame on you babe
Shame, shame, shame on you babe
A-smith, old hank pank
Pulling down your knickers
Ah, who you gonna spank
Shame, shame, shame on you babe
Shame, shame, shame on you babe
Joe perry, oh, mr style
Some kind of killer bee
Buzz a while
Shame, shame, shame on you babe
Shame, shame, shame, shame on you babe
Shame, shame, shame on you babe
Shame, shame, shame on you babe
Bogus honey, square dance close
Grab your partner, bring it home n dosey, dosey
Shame, shame, shame on you babe
Shame, shame, shame on you baby
Seemin jazzy bein shipped in
Wilds of the stanley
Try to given in
Shame, shame, shame on you babe
Shame, shame, shame on you baby
Seven or eleven
Go to roll the dice
Am I in heaven
Or am I in miami vice
Shame, shame, shame on you babe
Shame, shame, shame on you baby
song performed by by Aerosmith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Look In The Mirror
I look in the mirror
And what do I see
A reflection of someone else
Staring out at me
I see someone I used to know
Someone who used to be me
As I look in the mirror
That’s what I see
One drink led to another
A drunkard I became
Now my poor family
Are looked on with shame
Empty bottles fill every corner
Money I have none
My wife and children go hungry
As I crawl around the floor
As the days grew longer
The worse I became
Bottle followed bottle
Perfecting my shame
I yelled and I shouted
Strange things did I see
But none were more stranger
Than a reflection of me
poem by David Harris
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Sailors Lament
Woke up early feelin light, (shame, its a shame.)
Somebody got to me last night, (shame, its a shame.)
Sat down for a friendly duel, (shame, its a shame.)
With one-eyed jacks n jokers, too, (shame, its a shame.)
Chorus:
Ooh, sailor man, (shame, its a shame.)
Ooh, sailor man. (shame, its a shame.)
Poormouth henry turned on me, (shame, its a shame.)
Said, boy, Im gonna pick you clean. (shame, its a shame.)
Chorus
Oh!
Henry said, dont you mess that pile, (shame, its a shame.)
Had three aces n he had five. (shame, its a shame.)
Chorus
Shame, its a shame.
(repeat 5x)
song performed by by Creedence Clearwater Revival
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Mountain Sprite
In yonder valley there dwelt, alone,
A youth, whose moments had calmly flown,
'Till spells came o'er him, and, day and night,
He was haunted and watch'd by a Mountain Sprite.
As once, by moonlight, he wander'd o'er
The golden sands of that Island shore,
A foot-print sparkled before his sight --
'Twas the fairy foot of the Mountain Sprite!
Beside a fountain, one sunny day,
As bending over the stream he lay,
There peep'd down o'er him two eyes of light,
And he saw in that mirror the Mountain Sprite.
He turn'd, but, lo, like a startled bird,
That spirit fled! -- and the youth but heard
Sweet music, such as marks the flight
Of some bird of song, from the Mountain Sprite.
One night, still haunted by that bright look,
The boy, bewilder'd, his pencil took.
And, guided only by memory's light,
Drew the once-seen form of the Mountain Sprite.
"Oh thou, who lovest the shadow," cried
A voice, low whispering by his side,
"Now turn and see," -- here the youth's delight
Seal'd the rosy lips of the Mountain Sprite.
"Of all the Spirits of land and sea,"
Then rapt he murmur'd, "there's none like thee,
And oft, oh oft, may thy foot thus light
In this lonely bower, sweet Mountain Sprite!"
poem by Thomas Moore
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The Genie
(don henley/stan lynch/stuart brawley)
Is this what you wanted?
Did you even think twice?
Didnt they tell you that anything that feels this good
Comes with a price
It gave you such a rush
Now you think youve had enough
Its not that easy to walk away
This is the hard stuff
You cant get the genie back in the bottle
You cant get the genie back in the bottle
You cant get the genie back in the bottle
You cant get the genie back in the bottle
And everything matters, everything matters
Every little thing you do
That smoldering tingle under your skin
That sweet, delicious, but not-so-original sin
And when the world becomes too little or too much
The shadow mind contrives
The triumph and the tragedy that we invite into our lives
And adam glanced back at the tree
As he was leaving
Said, baby, thats the price we pay
Knowing is grieving
You cant get the genie back in the bottle
You cant get the genie back in the bottle
You cant get the genie back in the bottle
You cant get the genie back in the bottle
And everything matters, everything matters
Everything you say, everything you do
And the past comes back to smack you around
For all the things you thought you got for free
For the arrogance to think that you could somehow
Defy the laws of gravity
These are lessons in humility
Penitence for past offenses
Consequences, consequences
You cant get the genie back in the bottle
You cant get the genie back in the bottle
You cant get the genie back in the bottle
You cant get the genie back in the bottle
song performed by by Don Henley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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