Good Morning: Awaken on Sunday
Sunday
coffee
alongside
a crowded
collection
of newspaper
conversations.
Toasted
bread scent
fills
the bedroom,
sunlight
undresses
the day
through
the bay window.
sluggish
uncombed
for a few more
colorless articles.
Her
naked skin
teases
my morning
sunrise
while
I look for
the jelly,
strawberry
thighs.
I love
this exhaling
sigh- of-the-week.
Sundays,
a delightful
awakening.
poem by Kevin Mireles
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Sunday, Bloody Sunday
Well, it was sunday, bloody sunday when the shot the people there.
The cries of thirteen martyrs filled the free derry air.
Is there anyone amongst you dare to blame it on the kids?
Not a soldier boy was bleeding when they nailed the coffin lids!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Well, you claim to be majority, well, you know that its a lie.
Youre really a minority on this sweet emerald isle.
When stormont bans our marches, theyve got a lot to learn,
Internment is no answer, its those mothers turn to burn.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Hey! yeah!
Yeah!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
All you anglo pigs and scotties sent to colonise the north,
You wave your bloody union jacks and you know what its worth.
How dare you hold to ransom a people proud and free?
Keep ireland to the irish, put the english back to sea!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Hey, hey, hey!
Alright!
Ooh -
Yeah!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Well, its always bloody sunday in the concentration camps.
Keep falls road free forever from the bloody british hands.
Repatriate to britain all of you who call it home,
Leave ireland to the irish not for london or for rome.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday.
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Sunday, Bloody Sunday
Well, it was sunday, bloody sunday when the shot the people there.
The cries of thirteen martyrs filled the free derry air.
Is there anyone amongst you dare to blame it on the kids?
Not a soldier boy was bleeding when they nailed the coffin lids!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Well, you claim to be majority, well, you know that its a lie.
Youre really a minority on this sweet emerald isle.
When stormont bans our marches, theyve got a lot to learn,
Internment is no answer, its those mothers turn to burn.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Hey! yeah!
Yeah!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
All you anglo pigs and scotties sent to colonise the north,
You wave your bloody union jacks and you know what its worth.
How dare you hold to ransom a people proud and free?
Keep ireland to the irish, put the english back to sea!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Hey, hey, hey!
Alright!
Ooh -
Yeah!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Well, its always bloody sunday in the concentration camps.
Keep falls road free forever from the bloody british hands.
Repatriate to britain all of you who call it home,
Leave ireland to the irish not for london or for rome.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday.
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Always Another Sunday
There is always another Sunday,
From where do Sundays come from?
Do they sell them next to strike-anywhere matches,
Can you buy a three-pack and get one free
To make a perfect month, of Sundays?
Sunday afternoon might find you sitting at table
With some people you don't know too well,
Trying to make polite conversation
While slicing up some shoe-leathery beef roast,
That has always been the hallmark of the day.
Is it the first day of the week
Or effectively, the last?
How can the week start without any work?
Because it seems to make a better ending, instead.
Will we ever run out of Sundays?
Not unless we run out of football, baseball
Basketball and soccer first; it seems evident
That Sunday is merely a cog, attached to the sports wheel,
And is born and dies each week, with the big game.
You will not find most people discussing their sins
On Sunday afternoons:
You already know what they will be talking about.
poem by Patti Masterman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sunday Bloody Sunday
Well it was sunday bloody sunday
When they shot the people there
The cries of thirteen martyrs
Filled the free derry air
Is there any one amongst you
Dare to blame it on the kids?
Not a soldier boy was bleeding
When they nailed the coffin lids!
Sunday bloody sunday
Bloody sundays the day!
You claim to be majority
Well you know that its a lie
Youre really a minority
On this sweet emerald isle
When stormont bans our marches
Theyve got a lot to learn
Internment is no answer
Its those mothers turn to burn!
Sunday bloody sunday
Bloody sundays the day!
Sunday bloody sunday
Bloody sundays the day!
You anglo pigs and scotties
Sent to colonize the north
You wave your bloody union jack
And you know what its worth!
How dare you hold to ransom
A people proud and free
Keep ireland for the irish
Put the english back to sea!
Sunday bloody sunday
Bloody sundays the day!
Well, its always bloody sunday
In the concentration camps
Keep falls road free forever
From the bloody english hands
Repatriate to britain
All of you who call it home
Leave ireland to the irish
Not for london or for rome!
Sunday bloody sunday
Bloody sundays the day!
Sunday bloody sunday
Bloody sundays the day!
Sunday bloody sunday
Bloody sundays the day!
Sunday bloody sunday
Bloody sundays the day!
song performed by by Lennon John
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Bread & Butter
I love bread and butter
and jam upon hot toast
and flowers in the summer
but I love you most.
I love the red spring tulips
and cold strawberry mousse
and I love chocolate pudding
but I love you most.
I love bread and butter
and honey for to spread
though honey is but nothing
to your warm caress.
I love bread and butter
but egg with chips will do
although they only half compare
to my love for you.
I dare not feign indifference
I love a red, red rose.
Their scent is ever fragrant
but I love you most.
You know I love my mother
and sumptuous Sunday roast,
I love her home made puddings
but I love you most.
poem by Ruth Walters
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sunday Morning
Maurice white, sheldon reynolds & allee willis
Intro chorus:
Ooh, sunday morning
You;re gonna find my love shining on you
Oh, Im waiting
And my heart is anticipating
Your face
On my pillow
Feel sunshine pouring through the window
Like the grapes on the vine
Love gets sweeter with time
You were made to love
Chorus:
Ooh, sunday morning (Ill see you sunday morning)
Ooh, sunday morning
Its like the best of everything falling on you
Your eyes
Shining on me
Youre the brightest star, that ever could be
Your kiss
Oh, Im so thankful
The love that we share, Im sincerely grateful
The wind blowin in the tree
Singing love songs to me
Singing you were made to love
Chorus:
Ooh, sunday morning (Ill see you sunday morning)
Youre gonna find my love shining on you
Ooh, sunday morning
Its like the best of everything falling on you
Ooh, sunday morning (Ill see you sunday morning)
When we shared sweet love like no other
Ooh, sunday morning
Like a summer day with your lover
Ooh sunday morning (Ill see you sunday morning)
When we shared sweet love like no other
song performed by by Earth Wind And Fire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Kissing Power
Kisses upon kisses
Teases upon teases
Certain madness fills the air
It is termed as love I fear
Kisses upon kisses
Teases upon teases
Touches upon touches
My hearts broken pieces
Are once again at peace
Kisses upon kisses
Teases upon teases
Touches upon touches
Flattery upon Flattery
Love always sparkles without batteries
Lips upon lips
First a taste of your tongues tip
Admiration induces exploration
While love ignites imagination
I can feel your kissing power
And the sensational effect it showers
I can feel your kissing power
As you handle me like a delicate flower
Week legs
Pleasure begs
I can feel your kissing power
While you kiss me by the hour
Don't stop!
Be my hero not my flop!
poem by Sylvia Chidi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
My knowledge of the state of President Roosevelt's health was derived entirely from conversations, from newspaper articles and from photographs.
quote by David Bruce
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
In The Farm
i want to spell
freedom for her
we are two here
in this farm
where coconuts
are old and tall
where the grass
spreads like crazy
where the spring
of water does not
cease pouring from
the slit of the earth
this morning
i go to the nearby
river naked
and sensing that
she has only the
pillow in bed
she follows me
and there she
undresses herself
naked like me and
she spells freedom
perfectly: cool
and smooth to our
skin, too warm in
our hearts, peaceful
and private world.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sunday Morning Redemption
Sunday morning redemption...
black coffee and cigarettes,
the silence that only Sunday brings.
the week behind, jumbled and lost.
sifting through the news,
what needs attention?
what cant be helped?
where do we turn the wheel
and place the blade?
whose faces, whose names?
an invitation to think,
and ghosts that walk beside.
the righteous shave and shower,
putting on their best.
somewhere a street bum asks
for a coupla dollars,
trying to panhandle breakfast.
cleaning the marker by the grave,
and talking to no one seen...
an empty feeling in my bones,
that i just cant seem to shake.
sunlight and chill, deep silence;
i can almost trace your features
with hands that tremble, and cough.
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sunlight
I can’t wait for tomorrow
To see a brand new day
I think about the morning
And it warms my heart
The morning sunlight
That brings me hope
The sunlight
That keeps me to smile
Oh sunlight… don’t you know
How much joy you had brought to me?
I go dance with the trees
To the tune of gasping leaves
Sunlight, Oh sunlight
Show me the way
For a brighter day
Shine on me like a guiding light
Bring me the love
That I can feel deep inside of me
Come to me
And light my window pane
For today, you are my angel
Oh sunlight, my sunlight
Stay close to me
As I feel your power
That embraces me
For today and tomorrow
You’ll be there beside me
Oh sunlight….
You’re my laughter, my friend
My life, my joy
Oh sunlight….! ! !
poem by Cheryl Aldea
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
As Children
On Sundays mother sent us to Sunday school
at the huge St Osmund’s church.
My brother said he’d look after our collection money,
but he always ran off, leaving sis and me in the lurch.
poem by Orlando Belo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Foiled Again
Sitting up once again...In my bedroom
Shaking hand holds ugly head...In my bedroom
Wish I may wish I might...In my bedroom
Have this wish I wish tonight...In my bedroom
[Chorus:]
At night when you turn out the light, think of me, smile and feel all right
And when you lay your head down to sleep, may I be the one who fills your dreams...
Are you lying wide awake?...In your bedroom
Are you trying to fall asleep?...In your bedroom
Cuz your not thinking about me...In your bedroom
If you were you'd wish those thoughts would leave you...In your bedroom
[Chorus:]
At night when you turn out the light, you wonder what it was you thought you liked.
And you ask yourself what did you see, In an idle hollow fool like me
I'm not the one who fills my dreams...
song performed by by Eve 6
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
A Bad Day
burnt toasted
bread
beside a
moldy
marmalade
bland coffee
and bad news
on tv
welcome
a world in recession.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A newspaper is a collection of half-injustices
A newspaper is a collection of half-injustices
Which, bawled by boys from mile to mile,
Spreads its curious opinion
To a million merciful and sneering men,
While families cuddle the joys of the fireside
When spurred by tale of dire lone agony.
A newspaper is a court
Where every one is kindly and unfairly tried
By a squalor of honest men.
A newspaper is a market
Where wisdom sells its freedom
And melons are crowned by the crowd.
A newspaper is a game
Where his error scores the player victory
While another's skill wins death.
A newspaper is a symbol;
It is feckless life's chronicle,
A collection of loud tales
Concentrating eternal stupidities,
That in remote ages lived unhaltered,
Roaming through a fenceless world.
poem by Stephen Crane
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
On This Sunday Morning
from a clear morning sky
a crow swooped down
a lazy packet of bisuits
on the parapet wall
a used tea-cup
all showed that
it's a sunday morning...
how amusing to see
the way he unwrapped
and made a clean sweep
no sundays for the ever alert crow
my sunday is his day of feast
11oct2009
09.23hrs
poem by Indira Babbellapati
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Easter Snow
Easter is a time
for change, sunshine,
but where's the sun
as I look out my,
window this easter
morning, what is this
I see, not more snow,
rain is ok, but
snow no, snow I
thought I had seen
the last of you,
but you just keep
coming, so white
is the ground as
snow flakes keep
falling and falling.
They say if it
rains easter sunday,
for seven sundays
we shall have rain.
Does this mean
that now for seven
sundays we shall have
snow falling on us?
Sun last few weeks
you have been so
kind to us, please
pay us a visit,
once again and
bring comfort to
these old bones of
mine once again.
They say we need
the moisture, so
rain wake up and
please fall on us, once again.
(4-8-07)
Through The Glass Of My Bedroom Window
Saw you walking towards the bridal path,
through the glass of my bedroom window;
virile bucks picking up the scent of Jaipur,
angry doe's, alerted to your morning walk.
Young stags soon rising fast an' anxiously;
dancing, darting over clustered branches,
scurrying for refuge...from the likes of you,
searching for their own kind and appetite.
And, that's why you should have never left
the foggy side.......of my bedroom window,
when all along....we could have been here
dancing, darting...underneath satin sheets.
Entertaining our yen an' pleasure in dining
on a breakfast of warm cream, and honey.
poem by Frank James Ryan Jr.
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
About You Last Night....
i am missing you
For you have accustomed me to a morning conversation
with coffee and
some bread on the table
facing the sea
sunrise lighting our faces
unkempt hair
salty skin
parched lips
over-kissed the night
dreams outpouring
bliss, so much bliss is killing me
and you are there
so silent still
this silence that are like hands caressing my body
my heart is a sleepy dog
resting on the soft white rug
beside the door of
our room...
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A walk along the beach...
The sight of sunlight glinting on the water dazzling,
The sound of waves advancing softly on the sand,
The feeling of the suns warming kiss on my skin,
The cool dampness of the sand between my toes,
The gentle breeze moving through my hair,
Slipping across the water a yacht gliding silently,
The breeze filled sails carrying her to deeper waters,
Above me seagulls swirl singing their daily song,
Before diving down into the sea to snatch a fish,
The gentle breeze and warming sun feeding my soul,
The captivating pleasures of sight and sound so delightful,
I breathe in the wonderful scent of salt water that fills the air,
The intoxicating aroma of wildflowers thick along the cliffs,
A feeling of contentment fills every corner of my being,
As I walk along the beach I realise... Life is beauty...
Spread the love... The peace will follow...
poem by Cosmic Dreamer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!