The Privvy.......Toilet Trolls
Twas sordid that thought
Midwinter handed a lit
Oil lamp
Glowing
Showing the way outside to the shiny black paint of
The toilet door
Lift the latch....clunk! as your eyes scoured the darkness the bushes
For bogey men, trolls and murderers
Place lamp on window sill
Put small buttocks on the winter chilled toilet seat
Heart beats at a quickened pace
As a small scared face gazes
Out
Eyes foraging the white painted walls
For spiders and daddy long legs
Anything that crawls
And flys
And eats small, small children
Eyes down on two chubby little legs
Distant from the floor
And go girl go!
As quick as you can
As the sounds and rustles blown outside are
Definitely
The bogey man
He's coming after your guts and gore
Push little lady and try to be gone
Before
The doors ripped off its hinges
And you are dragged into the abyss
And they will all read about
The little lost Miss....
poem by Karen Sinclair
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Bogey Music
Everybody bogey
Dig that bogey beat
Man that bogey rhythm
Smells so clean and sweet
Everybody bogey
Bogey on to the street
Without bogey music
Life is incomplete
Without bogey music
Life is incomplete
Everybody bogey
Dig that bogey beat
If you little bogeys
Want to sing along
Clean your bogey act up
And learn the bogey song
Without bogey music
Life is incomplete
Without bogey music
Life is incomplete
Bogey music, bogey music
Bogey music, bogey music
Alright, here we are now
Tonight in bogey land
Bogey music, bogey music
Well, when the younger bogeys
Here that bogey sound
Every little bogey
Got to bogey down
Bogey man bogey
Bogey man bogey
Bogey man bogey on down
Bogey music, bogey music, bogey music
Bogey music, bogey music, bogey music
Bogey music Bogey man bogey on down
Bogey music
All you little bogeys
I want you to sing along
Clean your bogey act up
And learn the bogey song
Without bogey music
Life is incomplete
You know, it is...suckers
Bogey music, bogey music
Bogey music, bogey music
song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Gardener XI: Come As You Are
Come as you are; do not loiter over
your toilet.
If your braided hair has loosened if
the parting of your hair be not straight,
if the ribbons of your bodice be not
fastened, do not mind.
Come as you are; do not loiter over
your toilet.
Come, with quick steps over the
grass.
If the raddle come from your feet
because of the dew, of the rings of bells
upon your feet slacken, if pearls drop
out of your chain, do not mind.
Come, with quick steps over the
grass.
Do you see the clouds wrapping the
sky?
Flocks of cranes fly up from the
further river-bank and fitful gusts of
wind rush over the heath.
The anxious cattle run to their stalls
in the village.
Do you see the clouds wrapping the
sky?
In vain you light your toilet lamp
--it flickers and goes out in the
wind.
Who can know that your eyelids
have not been touched with lamp-
black? For your eyes are darker
than rain-clouds.
In vain you light your toilet lamp--
it goes out.
Come as you are; do not loiter over
your toilet.
If the wreath is not woven, who
cares; if the wrist-chain had not been
linked, let it be.
The sky is overcast with clouds--it
is late.
Come as you are; do not loiter over
your toilet.
poem by Rabindranath Tagore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
White Skin Black Heart
Yeah, whatcha gonna do now, now that you started?
Whatcha gonna do now, now that its done?
The words got out there, they float around and are coming right back down.
You gonna leave us lying here
Dealing with the consequences of a bad sound
Of a bad sound.
White skin black heart
White skin black heart
Whatcha gonna do now, that its spoken?
These words of a habit, have not faded away.
.................... it clear, conscious gets opened like a wound.
If you cant concieve a better line and better times,
Then let silence bury you, in the end.
When you feel it, when you feel it
Youre condemned.
You see, youve lost your strangle on the freedom road! you
Think ........................of something a long time ago! you
[spewed it out you were so] insecure! it was like ............. on
The toilet floor! youre a [nine seat] drunk, ............... and
You say you want something, .......... you heard the rednecks
Roaring for blood and then they wanted more! life was so small, you
Couldnt get enough. you made a start.
White skin black heart
Dripping,
White skin black heart
White skin black heart
White skin black heart
White skin black heart
Drag your eyes from [aurora] black heart!
White skin black heart
Drag your leg, get outta here [my sight]!
White skin black heart
White skin black heart
White skin black heart
White skin black heart
You didnt have to start
White skin black heart
White skin black heart
song performed by by Midnight Oil
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
That Day
That day, that day
What a mess what a marvel
I walked into that cloud again
And i lost myself
And i'm sad, sad, sad
Small, alone, scared
Craving purity
A fragile mind and
A gentle spirit
That day, that day
What a marvelous mess
This is all that i can do
I'm done to be me
Sad, scared, small, alone, beautiful
It's supposed to be like this
I accept everything
It's supposed to be like this
That day, that day
I lay down beside myself
In this feeling of pain, sadness
Scared, small, climbing, crawling
Towards the light
And it's all i see and
I'm tired and i'm right
And i'm wrong
And it's beautiful
That day that day
What a mess
What a marvel
We're all the same
And no one thinks so
And it's okay
And i'm small
And i'm divine
And it's beautiful
And it's coming
But it's already here
And it's absolutely perfect
That day, that day
When everything was a mess
And everything was in place
And there's too much hurt
Sad, small, scared, alone
And everyone's a cynic
And it's hard and it's sweet
But it's supposed
To be like this
That day, that day
When i sat in the sun
And i thought and i cried
'cause i'm sad, scared, small
Alone, strong
And i'm nothing
And i'm true
Only a brave man
Can break through
And it's all okay
Yeah, it's okay
song performed by by Natalie Imbruglia
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Greatest Discovery
Peering out of tiny eyes
The grubby hands that gripped the rail
Wiped the window clean of frost
As the morning air laid on the latch
A whistle awakened someone there
Next door to the nursery just down the hall
A strange new soundnn that makes boys explore
Tread neat so small those little feet
Amid the morning his small heart beats
So much excitement yesterday
That must be rewarded. Must be displayed.
Large hands lift him through the air
Excited eyes contain him there
The eyes of those he loves and knows
But what's this extra bed just here
His puzzled head tipped to one side
Amazement swims in those bright green eyes
Glancing down upon this thing
That makes strange sounds. Strange sounds that sing.
In those silent happy seconds
That surround the sound of this event
A parent smile is made in moments
They have made for you a friend
And all you ever learned from them
Until you grew much older
Did not compare with when they said
This is your brand new brother.
This is your brand new brother.
song performed by by Elton John
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Small Talk
Its not the chapters he reads when youre feeling low down
Its not the touch of his skin when you kiss him goodnight
Its not the money he spends when you want to buy a daydream
And not that miracle smile that makes the sky bright
Its not the way his hands behave
When youve turned out the light
Its the small, small small talk that makes it all happen
Small, small small talk that makes you want to fly, yes it does
Its not the way he believes in you like a religion
Its not the thrill that you get when hes holding you tight
Its not the way his eyes persuade
You to stay the night
Its the small, small small talk that makes it all happen (just like that)
Small, small small talk that makes you feel like flying, yes it does
Information, heart and soul, a whisper, a word
Confessions that have to be heard
Small small talk
Come on now, come on now
Come on - you make it rock so heavenly
Come on now, come on now
Come on - you seem to talk so heavenly
Big words...
Small talk...
Its not the way his eyes persuade
You to stay the night
Its the small, small small talk that makes it all happen
Small, small small talk that makes you feel like flying, yes it does
song performed by by Roxette
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
For the Meeting of Hearts and Lips
Julie took
one of the cigarettes
out of the packet
you had bought
and said
you're too kind
and lit it
with a small
plastic lighter
she took from her bag
you both sat
in a side room
set aside
for patients and guests
just off the drug
dependency ward
she was in
there was a scene
of a few trees
and bushes
from the window
marred by the sight
of the other part
of the hospital
over the way
glad you could come
she said
my parents
won't visit me here
don't they love you?
you asked
it's a matter of what
the neighbours might say
if they found out
I was here
she answered
inhaling deeply
and looking at you
with her dark eyes
her dark hair
was pulled back
in an untidy bun
and the hospital
dressing gown
she wore
was stained
and open
at the neck
and down
revealing a small cleavage
of young pinkish flesh
why did you come?
she asked
I wanted to see you
you replied
none of the others
from the Church come
she said
it's all talk
and promises
and God talk
but none
have come to see me
so far
she inhaled again
and stared out
the window
you studied how
she had crossed
her legs
showing
a glimpse of thigh
where her white
dressing gown
and nightdress
rose high
a nurse entered the room
and said
would you like tea
or coffee?
yes
Julie said
two coffees please
and the nurse
went out and off
her feet pitter
pattering down
the corridor
through the half
open door
I'm lucky here
she said
some druggies
get shoved in mental wards
or poked in
psychiatric units
with other
damaged goods
it seems ok
you replied
lifting your eyes
from her thighs
to her face
pure in its makeup
less state
and dark eyes
19 years young
she said
and already buggered up
as my father has said
I'm sure they love you
in their way
you said
taking in her neck
and the run
of her chin
and her mouth
with the small
moving lips
the nurse came in
with a tray
with two mugs
of white coffee
and a bowl
of brown sugar
and set it down
on the small grey table
and walked out
my parents love me
as property
not as a person
she said
uncrossing
her legs
and lifting a mug
and taking small sips
and oh you thought
(lifting a mug
and drinking)
for the meeting
of our hearts
and lips.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Small Lamp is Enough!
Let there only be a small earthen lamp lit in me!
There need be no white-washing brightness
My soul is put out by the brilliance;
And the ghosts of my lifeless body go berserk!
A small divine lamp is enough for me!
poem by Sundaram Chandrakalaadhar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Swing Time
You were with Janice
in Jail Park
two kids
looking for kicks
and Janice said
Can you push me
on the swings?
and you said
Sure if you like
and got behind her
as she sat on the swing
her hands holding
the small steel rings
that held the wooden seat
of the swing in place
her legs kicking outward
like some young bird
about to take flight
for the first time
and you heaved
the seat of the swing forwards
you then let it go
and off she went
upwards and downwards
her cry of exhilaration
filled your ears
and you pushed her
more higher and higher
to her cries of
Higher and higher
then you stood back
and walked around
the front of her
as she rose up
her legs pushing
into the sky
her black shoes
touching the cloud's skin
and you called out to her
Don't let go
or you'll fall
and she gripped
the small steel rings tighter
with her whitening hands
and her eyes
were wide
and her mouth opened
in a small O
and as her body
went by you
you pushed her once more
your hands pushing against
her summer dress
covered butt
and you sensed
the warmness of her
and the air
and her flying
like some young bird
way up there.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
While He see the two playing there
How much I miss
Kyla and Tinkie today
that now plays at another place
and I see the big black dog
and the very small white one
with her big eyes
that run together
in immortal fields
and the small one hops up and down
in the long green grass
while she tries to keep up
and make barking noises
and it’s Kyla that herds off Tinkie
like a mother looking after a small one.
At a stream
with clear transparent water
small Tinkie waits patiently
with her pink tongue
hanging out of her mouth
while Kyla swims like a otter
up and down
and barks her greetings
to a African red knobbed coot
who drifts with babies
on the water
and in the shade
of a big old willow tree
is the Creator of all things
and there’s a smile
that goes from His mouth
past His eyes
while He watches
the two playing there.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Keys of Morning
While at her bedroom window once,
Learning her task for school,
Little Louisa lonely sat
In the morning clear and cool,
She slanted her small bead-brown eyes
Across the empty street,
And saw Death softly watching her
In the sunshine pale and sweet.
His was a long lean sallow face;
He sat with half-shut eyes,
Like a old sailor in a ship
Becalmed 'neath tropic skies.
Beside him in the dust he had set
His staff and shady hat;
These, peeping small, Louisa saw
Quite clearly where she sat -
The thinness of his coal-black locks,
His hands so long and lean
They scarcely seemed to grasp at all
The keys that hung between:
Both were of gold, but one was small,
And with this last did he
Wag in the air, as if to say,
"Come hither, child, to me!"
Louisa laid her lesson book
On the cold window-sill;
And in the sleepy sunshine house
Went softly down, until
She stood in the half-opened door,
And peeped. But strange to say
Where Death just now had sunning sat
Only a shadow lay:
Just the tall chimney's round-topped cowl,
And the small sun behind,
Had with its shadow in the dust
Called sleepy Death to mind.
But most she thought how strange it was
Two keys that he should bear,
And that, when beckoning, he should wag
The littlest in the air.
poem by Walter de la Mare
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Smalltown
When youre growing up in a small town
When youre growing up in a small town
When youre growing up in a small town
You say, no one famous ever came from here
When youre growing up in a small town
And youre having a nervous breakdown
And you think that youll never escape it
Yourself or the place that you live
Where did picasso come from
Theres no michelangelo coming from pittsburgh
If art is the tip of the iceberg
Im the part sinking below
When youre growing up in a small town
Bad skin, bad eyes, gay and fatty
People look at you funny
When youre in a small town
My father worked in construction
Its not something for which Im suited
Oh, what is something for which you are suited
Getting out of here
I hate being odd in a small town
If they stare let them stare in new york city
As this pink eyed painting albino
How far can my fantasy go
Im no dali coming from pittsburgh
No adorable lisping capote
My hero, oh, do you think I could meet him
Id camp out at his front door
There is only one good thing about small town
There is only one good use for a small town
There is only one good thing about small town
You know that you want to get out
When youre growing up in a small town
You know youll grow down in a small town
There is only one good use for a small town
You hate it and youll know you have to leave
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Small To Big!
small hands, trust...
big hands, afraid,
clenched to fists...
small eyes, see...
big eyes, blinded,
confined to conceptions...
small hearts, love...
big hearts, possess,
clipping the wings
of their own dreams!
small to big, return to small
finding our way home!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Tinkerbell is back
Slowly a small white dog
steals up on our yard in the street
with big black outstanding eyes
and she watches scared,
at every thing that she sees
as far as she walks.
There’s something familiar to her
and the small pink tongue
that hangs out of her mouth
where she stands dehydrated
against the green palisades,
the emaciated small body
on which the spinal cord
and ribs protrude
and the small tail
that wraps into the stomach
tells their own tale
of neglection
and lovelessness
and of people
that has lost all humanity.
My heart rejoices because Tinkie is back
and Tinkerbell has escaped from somewhere
and I know that there’s a Lord
that answers prayers,
but if I get hold
of the people
that had stolen her
I will loose more than just my head
and it feels as if I can kill them
with my bare hands.
Somewhere nearby
there’s a lady that sells cosmetics
and my neighbour says
that her child wanted Tinkie
and ten devils,
turn inside my heart
and the Lord
just has to keep me in check.
The front teeth are missing from kicks
and to see the tongue hanging out grudges me
and the vet is wonderful like always
and says that she will be all right with time
and treats her for everything and more
and after more than eight months,
Tinkie is disarranged
and the other dogs
wants to smell her
and my darling and I are happy
because one of our children
is back and there’s again
light and life in her eyes.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Urn....
He finally pulled in the drive.
Another endless night at work.
Exhausted, he turned off the car,
and stumbled for the back door.
The neighborhood cat rubbed
against his legs as he fumbled
for the key.
As he opened the door, he noticed
that the light over the sink was on.
Shaking his head, he shrugged, and set
down his lunchbox.
He reached in the cupboard for the
bottle and a glass. He poured a small
shot, and hesitated for a moment.
He could hear the night just outside
the window. Something inside of
him let down. He kicked back the shot,
and headed for the bathroom.
A quick shower, and he found his way
to the bedroom. Lying naked on the
bed, he lit a smoke, trying not to think.
He could hear the ticking of the clock in
the hallway. He put out the cigarette, and
dozed.
He awakened to the scent of her perfume.
He heard her voice, whispering, 'be still'.
He felt the presence of her body in the bed.
Her long hair draped across his face. He
felt her on top of him, her heat and her desire.
He raised his face to kiss her....
And then she was gone! Startled, he groped
at the bed, clutching air. He sat up and flipped
on the lamp.
The room was empty. A few crumpled dirty
clothes in the floor. The book he'd been reading
on the nightstand. But no sign of her!
His hands shaking, he lit a smoke, and blinked.
He looked around the room again.
Every nook, every cranny, every crack in the paint.
Finally, his eyes fixed on her dresser.
A picture of her on their wedding day. A half empty
bottle of her favorite perfume. And the urn.... the
urn, with her wedding ring lying on the base.
He flipped off the lamp, and wept.
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Void
In a big black void
Which i might never go through,
Not because I'm scared of the darkness
Not because I'm scared of creepy things
But because I'm afraid that I'll get lost.
Lost for good and never to be found.
But deep inside the darkness,
There is a small young boy,
Small yet unafraid
Lost but not lonely.
For there are the birds,
There are the animals,
There are the trees that keep him company.
I have to save him
But how can I,
When I myself am afraid?
poem by Anushna Satapathy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Over His Latte.
He's only just sat down
in the cafe when she enters
and stands at the counter
waiting to be served. He lets
his latte settle. Allows his
eyes to scrutinize. The waitress
serves the woman in the white
hat and black dress. He notes
her fine figure, the low cut at
the neck, the thin straps over
shoulders. He tries to breathe
in from where he sits her perfume,
but it doesn't come. The woman
orders an espresso and says it
with an Italian accent. He follows
her with his eyes as she walks
to a table alone. She looks like a
girl Modigliani would have painted.
She looks at her watch and then
around the room of the cafe.
She crosses her legs, one over
the other, thigh revealed. He sips
his latte. Wipes his lips with the
back of his hand. Bad habit, mother
would have slapped his hand as a
child once. The waitress delivers
the woman's coffee; he notes the
waitress's fine behind, the hands
serving, the legs touching together.
Then she's gone. Just the woman
in the white hat to study. The way
she lifts the small white cup to her
mouth, her fingers holding delicately,
as if afraid to break. Get a life Brody
would say if he were there. But he's not;
he's away with that girl from the office,
having a lay. The woman in the hat
stares at him, her eyes devour, her lips
part like legs before sex. She looks boringly
away. He sips more latte. He doesn't like
her white hat or black dress anyway.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Small World
Children seem to have no choice
The children have got no voice
Theyre merely living to grow old
Letting their days unfold
And its time that you and i
Realised that by and by
These children grow up into men
It is clear what we must do
What the lord has told us to
Give our brothers a chance
To be born again
Its a small world, a small world
When you see it through
A pair of haitian eyes
Its a small world, a small world
When the dreams you dream
Melt into haitian skies
Its just not good enough to say
That the troubles too far away
Cos the little that you need to give
Could help a little child to live
Help them live a little longer
Help them grow a little stronger
So why not play a part
If youre ever gonna do
What the lord has told us to
Its got to begin within your heart
Its a small world, a small world
When you reach out and touch
A stranger
From where you stand
Its a small world, a small world
When you can forge another link
In a far off land
Repeat last two lines
Its a small world, a small world
When you can forge another link
In a far off land
song performed by by Cliff Richard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
You're So Small
i went to school here in michigan at a place
Called interlochen, and, uh, there's a lot of dancers there.
About 60% of the dancers were either anorexic or bulemic.
And i often blamed it on their boyfriends.
So i wrote this about that.
I didn't agree with that, by the way."
Gonna walk down the street
And seduce every man i meet
Because i'm having a bad day.
I am
Not size six.
My legs are not
Skinny as sticks
And dammit, someone's got to pay.
(that's the power of a woman, ohhhh)
I feel unattractive.
I'm gonna see if it's true.
I'm going to break a heart or maybe two.
I'm gonna put on a sexy red thing
Gonna run very late
I'm gonna pull some strings
Cause my strength is in my
Power over you.
(the power of a woman)
But i'm afraid that i can't satisfy myself
And that my happiness depends on someone else.
I feel weak, so you're gonna take the fall.
You're so small, you're so small, you're so small.
You're so small, i feel fat, you're so small.
You're so small, i don't feel anything, cuz you're so small.
song performed by by Jewel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Small Town
Well I was born in a small town
And I live in a small town
Probly die in a small town
Oh, those small communities
All my friends are so small town
My parents live in the same small town
My job is so small town
Provides little opportunity
Educated in a small town
Taught the fear of jesus in a small town
Used to daydream in that small town
Another boring romantic thats me
But Ive seen it all in a small town
Had myself a ball in a small town
Married an l.a. doll and brought her to this small town
Now shes small town just like me
No I cannot forget where it is that I come from
I cannot forget the people who love me
Yeah, I can be myself here in this small town
And people let me be just what I want to be
Got nothing against a big town
Still hayseed enough to say
Look whos in the big town
But my bed is in a small town
Oh, and thats good enough for me
Well I was born in a small town
And I can breathe in a small town
Gonna die in this small town
And thats probly where theyll bury me
song performed by by John Mellencamp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!