Spit, Sawdust and The Farcicle Spaghetti Western
Last night within the spit and sawdust of..
The White Horse...(public house)
Swinging tail
Whilst I chose to sail
Far too... close to the wind, smiling at.
Friend foe and bartenders
As I dived need er ly
Within the whit/ering beer goggles
Of vodka and whatever...
I mean after all... after the shit day we'd had
Lost a home gained a flat, lost said flat..
Crap...
Homeless in two weeks
Yet in sane day
Finding another flat
Not bad but drat...wasn't exactly the hovel of my dreams
So
I chose to swim in vodka
Heaven
Not a care in the world until
I noticed two fellas brawling out of the mens toilets
And it was as beautiful as a contemporary ballet...
One had a dark shaved head
So I was gone
Smack bang
In the middle
As on the way through
I thought it was my man
Getting pummeled and pounded
And I could hardly just stand and watch
Between two fiery charged up men
I stood as punches past over and round
My head
I do
Believe my fists flew too
As my right hand hurts now.
But it was good honest fun
And I was dragged off by my man
A bit of spit sawdust and blood is as old as religion...
So ill hang my head in shame and smile at the floor...
poem by Karen Sinclair
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Related quotes
A Child's Nightmare
Through long nursery nights he stood
By my bed unwearying,
Loomed gigantic, formless, queer,
Purring in my haunted ear
That same hideous nightmare thing,
Talking, as he lapped my blood,
In a voice cruel and flat,
Saying for ever, "Cat! ... Cat! ... Cat!..."
That one word was all he said,
That one word through all my sleep,
In monotonous mock despair.
Nonsense may be light as air,
But there's Nonsense that can keep
Horror bristling round the head,
When a voice cruel and flat
Says for ever, "Cat! ... Cat! ... Cat!..."
He had faded, he was gone
Years ago with Nursery Land,
When he leapt on me again
From the clank of a night train,
Overpowered me foot and head,
Lapped my blood, while on and on
The old voice cruel and flat
Says for ever, "Cat! ... Cat! ... Cat!..."
Morphia drowsed, again I lay
In a crater by High Wood:
He was there with straddling legs,
Staring eyes as big as eggs,
Purring as he lapped my blood,
His black bulk darkening the day,
With a voice cruel and flat,
"Cat! ... Cat! ... Cat! ... Cat!..." he said, "Cat! ... Cat!..."
When I'm shot through heart and head,
And there's no choice but to die,
The last word I'll hear, no doubt,
Won't be "Charge!" or "Bomb them out!"
Nor the stretcher-bearer's cry,
"Let that body be, he's dead!"
But a voice cruel and flat
Saying for ever, "Cat! ... Cat! ... Cat!"
poem by Robert Graves
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Good Deed Done.
The old woman
was lying
on the path
from her
ground floor flat
along Harper Road
when you and Helen
walked by
on your way
from the shop
with your penny drinks
you both ran to her
and she said she'd fallen
so Helen
ran across
to the surgery
on the other side
of the road
while you knelt
by the woman
placing your
short sleeved pullover
under her head
you're a good boy
she said
but you'll have blood on it now
don't matter
you said
you stroked her head
and pushed
her grey hair
out of her white blue eyes
when Helen returned
with a doctor
he examined
the old woman
and said
he had called
an ambulance
Helen stood
next to you
her eyes tearful
her hand
touching yours
the woman said
thank you both
I don't know
what I'd have done
if you hadn't come along
it's the least we could do
Helen said
you waited
until the ambulance came
and took her away
and disappeared
off along Harper Road
look at your pullover
Helen said
it's got blood on it
don't matter
gives it colour
you replied
anyway Mum'll wash it out
she gazed at you
through her thick lens
her eyes awash
with tears
her small hand
still in yours
the path
from the old lady's flat
had a small stain
of dark red
where blood had seeped
where she'd laid her head
a bit like an abstract
pavement artist's work
you said
the white stone canvas
with that touch of red.
poem by Terry Collett
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Un-named Hero
I just couldn’t smile only frown
My life was falling tumbling down
Every night it was the same
But in my heart there’s really no one to blame
My heart was hurting in so much pain
From being broken again and again
The words replayed around my head
I would’ve thought by then my heart be dead
All the sorrow was too much to bear
And slowly no one started to care
I’d lay awake in bed at night
In my life was a fading light
My hero had fallen wounded bad
To watch him suffer made me sad
But how still I call him that?
For he caused my life to become that flat
Yet he remains my hero you don’t get why?
He caused my hopes to soar and dreams to fly
He stood by me when I fell down
When I was lost he made me found
He gave me new eyes to view life
And now I see it with less strife
He is my hero can’t you see?
No matter what he’ll always be
So when I lie in bed at night
I am filled with a different light
A new hope and no despair
He showed me I’ve got Jesus always there
That’s why he is my hero I’m left without a doubt
Whenever I’m in trouble it’ll always get sort out
I smile lift my head and sigh
To my old life I can say goodbye
I been through many up’s and downs
But now it’s all been turned around
So I can stand here today
Confident to say
Thanks to my hero
And tell him
I love you always.
poem by Iizgam French
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Faith In Vodka Tears
'those vodka weeping
Russians
those vodka weeping
Russians
crying vodka tears'
lost loss of faith
loss of faith in communism
lost loss of faith
loss of faith in orthodox religion
lost loss of faith
loss of faith in devastated souls
will Russian soul thaw regenerate?
socialist history of faith
under Lenin Stalin Communism
under suppressed orthodox religion
devastated souls did not regenerate...
vodka soothed Russian soul
crying vodka tears
defensive history of faith
under aggressive invasion bestial Nazism
vodka seemed to fire the Russian soul
crying vodka tears
without faith they cry vodka tears
with faith they cry vodka tears
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Visits to St Elizabeths
This is the house of Bedlam.
This is the man
that lies in the house of Bedlam.
This is the time
of the tragic man
that lies in the house of Bedlam.
This is a wristwatch
telling the time
of the talkative man
that lies in the house of Bedlam.
This is a sailor
wearing the watch
that tells the time
of the honored man
that lies in the house of Bedlam.
This is the roadstead all of board
reached by the sailor
wearing the watch
that tells the time
of the old, brave man
that lies in the house of Bedlam.
These are the years and the walls of the ward,
the winds and clouds of the sea of board
sailed by the sailor
wearing the watch
that tells the time
of the cranky man
that lies in the house of Bedlam.
This is a Jew in a newspaper hat
that dances weeping down the ward
over the creaking sea of board
beyond the sailor
winding his watch
that tells the time
of the cruel man
that lies in the house of Bedlam.
This is a world of books gone flat.
This is a Jew in a newspaper hat
that dances weeping down the ward
over the creaking sea of board
of the batty sailor
that winds his watch
that tells the time
of the busy man
that lies in the house of Bedlam.
This is a boy that pats the floor
to see if the world is there, is flat,
for the widowed Jew in the newspaper hat
that dances weeping down the ward
waltzing the length of a weaving board
by the silent sailor
that hears his watch
that ticks the time
of the tedious man
that lies in the house of Bedlam.
These are the years and the walls and the door
that shut on a boy that pats the floor
to feel if the world is there and flat.
This is a Jew in a newspaper hat
that dances joyfully down the ward
into the parting seas of board
past the staring sailor
that shakes his watch
that tells the time
of the poet, the man
that lies in the house of Bedlam.
This is the soldier home from the war.
These are the years and the walls and the door
that shut on a boy that pats the floor
to see if the world is round or flat.
This is a Jew in a newspaper hat
that dances carefully down the ward,
walking the plank of a coffin board
with the crazy sailor
that shows his watch
that tells the time
of the wretched man
that lies in the house of Bedlam.
poem by Elizabeth Bishop
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Hat Too Flat
We come in on the morning scan
All the way from far arcturus
Bringing with us peace and good will
From the margins of space and time
Our women are slung down low to the ground
Theyre very good youve probably had one
Our men are brave, studly and wise,
A pleasure to behold
Right away we walk the walk
More or less we talk the talk
But every time we make our play
Their eyes get wide they run away
cause the hat stays too flat
My hat is way too flat
My english she is much better now
But my hat remains too flat
The man smells a rat
And thats the end of that
My english it is more better now
But my hat is still too flat
Fair arcturus fashion forecast:
Skirts will be shorter
Legs stay long
Virtual raincoats are coming back
Hats as always continued flat
Back at home the machines work hard
We folk like to take it easy
Honing our awareness of
The finer things of life
Here when I go down to my job
I work hard for what seems like a long time
I look at my watch: fifteen minutes
It felt like half a day!
Soon enough we break for lunch
Me and the boys now Im one of the bunch
But no one wants to sit with me
So tell me what can the matter be?
The hat stays too flat
My hat is way too flat
My english she is much better now
But the hat is just too flat
A little thing like that
They dont get past the hat
My english it is more better now
But my hat remains too flat
song performed by by Steely Dan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Flat Top
Flat top intervention
Bringing home the new invention
See it there in pieces on the ground
A television war between the cynics and the saints
Flip the dial and that's whose side you're on
Sleeping on the white house lawn ain't never changed a thing
Look at all the washed out hippie dreams
And it's falling all around us
Is this some kind of joke they're trying to pull on us?
Falling all around us
I'll turn my head off for a while
Tabloid generation's lost
song performed by by Goo Goo Dolls from A Boy Named Goo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Home Is Anywhere You Hang Your Head
Here comes Mr. Misery
He's tearing out his hair again
He's crying over her again
He's standing in the super-market shouting at the customers
Here comes Mr. Misery
He'll never be any good with a mouth full of gold and blood
He's contemplating murder again
He must be in love
Chorus: But you know she doesn't want
But you can't seem to get it in your head
Oh and you can't sleep at night
And she haunts you when you go to bed
When you're tired of talking and you can't drink it down
So you hang around and drown instead
Home isn't where it used to be
Home is anywhere you hang your head
You hang your head
Home is anywhere
You hang your head
Home is anywhere
You hang your head
Home is anywhere you hang your head
Here comes Mr. Misery
Looking for a place for his mouth to shoot
Saying "You'd look cute in your birthday suit"
You tore him out and screwed him up
Like a bad page in a naughty picture book
They day ended as it began
As he was seconds older than the man he was this morning
And the world has wiped it's mouth since then
Or maybe it was yawning
Chorus
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Big Night On The Town
drunk on the dark streets of some city,
it's night, you're lost, where's your
room?
you enter a bar to find yourself,
order scotch and water.
damned bar's sloppy wet, it soaks
part of one of your shirt
sleeves.
It's a clip joint-the scotch is weak.
you order a bottle of beer.
Madame Death walks up to you
wearing a dress.
she sits down, you buy her a
beer, she stinks of swamps, presses
a leg against you.
the bar tender sneers.
you've got him worried, he doesn't
know if you're a cop, a killer, a
madman or an
Idiot.
you ask for a vodka.
you pour the vodka into the top of
the beer bottle.
It's one a.m. In a dead cow world.
you ask her how much for head,
drink everything down, it tastes
like machine oil.
you leave Madame Death there,
you leave the sneering bartender
there.
you have remembered where
your room is.
the room with the full bottle of
wine on the dresser.
the room with the dance of the
roaches.
Perfection in the Star Turd
where love died
laughing.
poem by Charles Bukowski
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Flat
Back at the flat
I talk to my non-existent cat
Silence covers me like a Panama hat.
And the wonderful day we had at the zoo
Sunshine and ice cream; you snapped a Gnu.
Now echoes in the silence
That lonliness brings
Back at the flat where my life still clings,
Back at the flat i slowly fade in pain
Who will i hold so close again?
As cutting memories drive me insane
Trapped, i look out and it begins to rain.
Back at the flat i try to plan ahead
Feel one true kiss before i'm dead
Hold a hand that squeezes back tight
Drink wine and sing in someones moonlight.
Watching her in the kitchen, eyes glowing brand new
Now everything is a memory
Painted deep blue.
Back at the flat i dream a hug will come
A spark from her touch to heat this body numb.
Where is one night of stars to romance
She'll blow me a kiss as the world still rants.
My unknown love is waiting for me
All i need is her smile
And i'm flying free
Back at the flat my daydream ends
I cast my fate to the wind
And pray it ascends.
poem by Kevin East
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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X5
there is a moment
for standing still and
just be here
listening, there is more
to what listening
gives, it is the emptying
of all gas,
it is the shhhhh
of this
existence, it the flat
tire and then
the filling up of all
that is flat and
empty, and then
it goes back
on page one which
has the theme of
moving and
bouncing and
flying and
be lost again to the
greatness of finally
finding the self that is
not actually inside
you....
the wind, the sea and
the width
and the length and
the unending and the
unedited...
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Home Is Anywhere
Here comes mr. misery
Hes tearing out his hair again
Hes crying over her again
Hes standing in the super-market shouting at the customers
Here comes mr. misery
Hell never be any good with a mouth full of gold and blood
Hes contemplating murder again
He must be in love
Chorus: but you know she doesnt want
But you cant seem to get it in your head
Oh and you cant sleep at night
And she haunts you when you go to bed
When youre tired of talking and you cant drink it down
So you hang around and drown instead
Home isnt where it used to be
Home is anywhere you hang your head
You hang your head
Home is anywhere
You hang your head
Home is anywhere
You hang your head
Home is anywhere you hang your head
Here comes mr. misery
Looking for a place for his mouth to shoot
Saying youd look cute in your birthday suit
You tore him out and screwed him up
Like a bad page in a naughty picture book
They day ended as it began
As he was seconds older than the man he was this morning
And the world has wiped its mouth since then
Or maybe it was yawning
Chorus
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To Clap As I Snap
You want to box me close in a ring.
To see me roped and swinging...
Desperately on a string.
To clap as I snap.
Without a fighting back.
But within me there is a secret,
You and no one else can see.
I'm not the kind to stop and bob and weave...
In weeping.
When I get stuck...
I struggle to my feet to get back up.
You may witness my stumbles.
But I am not the one to lay flat on my butt!
You want to box me close in a ring.
To see me roped and swinging...
Desperately on a string.
To clap as I snap.
Without a fighting back.
But laying flat and snapped,
As you clap rapping smack...
I can't allow that!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Spit It Out
If theres rage inside you so you cannot think
Spit it out
If you get so angry that you cannot speak
Spit it out
Talk to him or her or it
And tell them where they can put it
Spit it out, spit it out
You got to talk to him or her or it
And take aim with your mouth and spit
Spit it out, spit it out
If you get worked over at your job
Spit it out
If a taxi almost runs you down
Spit it out
You got to take aim with your mouth and speak
And give it to them right between the teeth
Spit it out, spit it out
Talk to him or her or it
And take aim with your mouth and spit
Spit it out, spit it out
Spit it out
Hey, hey, hey
If youre patient and you have the time
Spit it out
Wait till theyre on the decline
Spit it out
The chinese say you meet the hard with the soft
The yin with the yang, the down with the up, oh
Spit it out, spit it out
You got to grab that dumb he, she or it
And give it to them right between the teeth
Spit it out, spit it out
Spit it out, babe, spit it out
Hey
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cutter Cat Vs. The Jets
I met an alley cat
Pussyfootin around
Til the break of dawn
Found me knocked out flat on my head
Some feline beauty
Waved her tail my way
I just had to stay
I couldn't get the blood off my hands
She made my eyes bug out
Her tail stand up
And I ain't even in heat for a month
House cat
You really got it made
Sleepin all night
And perfect delight of day
Some feline beauty
Waved her tail my way
I just had to stay
I couldn't get the blood off my bed
She made my eyes bug out
Her tail stand up
And I ain't even in heat for a month
Some bad cats from 4th Street
Come down to our alley
Well we say that's cool
But just stay away from me and my boys
Eyes clash
And claws slash
And green-eyed fur goes flyin
Midnight
Catfight
Neckbite
Die
When you're a Jet
You're a Jet all the way
From your first cigarette
Til your last dyin day
When you're a Jet
Let 'em do what they can
Little boy
song performed by by Alice Cooper from School's Out
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Spit It Out
Back then my life was empty
Most things around disturbed me
Messed-up and really restless
My head was filled with distless
Until the day you saved me
You made me see things clearly
Nothing is ever hopeless
Got to know how to love myself
You made me love you, me and life
(chorus:) Go ahead, spit it out, go ahead,
go ahead, spit it out
That I am stupid
Go ahead, spit it out, go ahead,
go ahead, spit it out
That I was mistaken
Go ahead, spit it out, go ahead,
go ahead, spit it out
That I missed my chances
Go ahead, spit it out, go ahead,
go ahead, spit it out
That I cannot fix it
Right now I grab my head and
Look back at what I have done
I've been a total fool
Can find no explanation
One day I could not take it
Guess things were just too perfect
So I took my stuff and left you
Though I will always love you
Thought you saved me I still left you
(chorus)
song performed by by Vanilla Ninja
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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This House is no Longer a Home
As I walk down the lonely street
Knees get weak, can barely keep my feet
I see the fence, the gate, the porch
From where you gazed and lit my torch
I see the house, the room, the bed
Your voice still ringing in my head
You said you didn't love anymore
And you walked out the door
The walls were painted antique white
Semi-gloss to bring in the light
Pictures hung on every wall
With memories of us all
Now the fence is falling, the flowers dying
Tears fall through the cracks from all the crying
The gate is broken and no one can come in
It's a shame even the birds won't sing
But this house is no longher a home
You chose freedom, you chose to roam
This house is no longer a home
Like a beer without foam
A classic car without chrome
You chose to roam
Now this house is no longer a home
I recall that first night
We made love in the full moonlight
Tfhe air was filled with ecstasy
Our moans sang a symphony
Our bodies became one
As we ventured till the morning sun
But love doesn't live here anymore
I can still hear the slamming of the door
I can feel the vibration of every picture frame
As I stand here wondering who's to blame
poem by Alfred Ramos
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Another Language
The whole world is flat
& I am round.
Even women avert their eyes,
& men, embarrassed
by the messy way
that life turns into life,
look away,
forgetting they themselves
were once this roundness
underneath the heart,
this helpless fish
swimming in eternity.
The sound of O,
not the sound of I
embarrasses the world.
My friends, who voluntarily have made
their bodies flat,
their writings flat as grief,
look at me in disbelief.
What is this large unseemly thing-
a pregnant poet?
an enormous walking O?
Oh take all the letters of the alphabet but that!
We speak the Esperanto of the flat!
Condemned to sign
language & silence, pregnant poems
for men to snicker at,
for women to denounce,
I live alone.
My world is round
& bounded by the mountain of my fear;
while all the great geographers agree
the world is flat
& roundness cannot be.
poem by Erica Jong
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Crazy In The Night
(g. porter)
Producer: dennis kirk and basil poledouris
Album: summer lovers soundtrack (82)
Somewhere out in the galaxy
A numbers up but not for me
Theres a light inside the window
And the curtains coming down
Pig is on the spit and turning round
Going crazy in the night
Crazy in the night
Dropped in from munich with a master plan
Guess he left his wife and kids at home
Hes got so much money rollin
From the crimes hell commit
But the siamese cats are gonna take a little bit
Going crazy in the night
Crazy in the night
Will I turn and run or do I stand and face the gun...oh
Going crazy in the night
Everybody seemed tove lost their way
Crazy in the night
Seems theres no way outta here
Do I turn and run....no!
Got no hands but Ive got my head
Ive come so far from the temple
Maybe this is babylon or maybe its a dream
If it werent so beautiful, it would be obscene
Drinking with the panthers, dancing for their life
God, this place is hungry
Come and see the players but dont stay for the show
The cats are out tonight, hungry for their rites
Going crazy in the night
Crazy in the night
Will I turn and run or do I stand and face the gun
Going crazy in the night
Everybody seemed tove lost their way
Crazy in the night
Seems theres no way outta here
Will I turn and run...no
Got no hands but Ive got my head
Ive come so far from the temple
Maybe this is babylon or maybe its a dream
If it werent so beautiful
song performed by by Tina Turner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Vacuous Space
Space in the head,
Once getting PAID to lead.
Vacuous meetssssspace in the head,
Once getting PAID to lead.
Vacuous meetssssspace in the head,
Once getting PAID to lead.
And the winners,
Had been the merchants...
Breathing royalty,
On 5th Avenue!
Vacuous meetssssspace in the head,
Once getting PAID to lead.
Vacuous meetssssspace in the head,
Once getting PAID to lead.
And the bleeding of the people....
Had been seen from their limousines!
Vacuous meetssssspace in the head,
Once getting PAID to lead.
Vacuous meetssssspace in the head,
Once getting PAID to lead.
And It's an off beat situation,
To see the homeless
Pushing carts...
Up on these scenes!
Space in the head,
Once getting PAID to lead.
Vacuous space...
In the head,
Once getting paid to lead!
And the trickling of this meanness...
Is a payback for those,
Who had chose to steal
Away sweet dreams!
Vacuous meetssssspace in the head,
Once getting PAID to lead!
It's an off beat situation
Getting fixed...
As the kings are dragged
Screaming
With tainted hands
Bitten and bloodied
By those they chose
To live in tattered clothes
Hungry and suffering
Squeezed from the cream
That was theirs all the time
By such crooked deeds!
Space in the head,
Once getting PAID to lead.
Vacuous space...
In the head,
Once getting paid to lead!
And the winners,
Now are the losers
Once the merchants...
Living to scheme,
And breathing royalty,
Like leeches!
On 5th Avenue.
And the winners?
Now are the losers...
Picked by people,
Just as greedy
As the ones they knew!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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