Spring Cleaning
What are you doing?
'A thorough Spring cleaning.'
Why is each one of those boxes packed...
And stacked high with labels attached,
'Agitation'?
'This year,
Every bit of it...
Is being removed from my atmosphere.
And everything I am getting rid of...
I am guaranteeing will not reappear.'
But you are making your space,
Practically empty.
There are no chairs for anyone to sit.
'That's exactly the point I intend to make.
No one will come to sit,
Expecting to prolong their visit.
A freshness to the air is what I wish!
And I am determined for that wish to get.
I made myself a promise to be the one that benefits.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Face To Face
Anderson/squire/howe/white/sherwood/khoroshev
Here we are trying to mend all the broken hearts
In a world where the pain is the fear
Aint no doubt theres a method to madness here
Set your clock to the start of a brand new year
Shine your heart to the universe and get the news
Not alone never have been, never will be
See the truth, not to mention the promise made
See them all, see them all high on judar rhythm
We began at the very first spring
How the promise will come when the promise is made
We will sing at the very first spring
That the promise will come when the promise is made
Promise is made, promise is made
Shake me up, take me up
Face to face
Lift me up, shake me up
Face to face
Make me real, make me longing to see you smile
Shall we dancing, shall we be the dancing down under
In this life of lives, are we ready to take the chance
Moving to the rhythm, here at last to
Believe
To believe
We began at the first real spring
How the promise will come when the promise is made
We will sing at the very first spring
That the promise will come when the promise is made
We began at the first real spring - ya
We will sing at the very first spring - ya
We began at the first real spring
We will sing at the very first spring
How the promise will come when the promise is made
Promise is made, promise is made
We began at the first real spring
That the promise will come when the promise is made
We will sing at the very first spring
That the promise will come when the promise is made
Promise is made, promise is made
Shake it up, take me up
Face to face
Face to face
Face to face
song performed by by Yes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Face To Face
Anderson/squire/howe/white/sherwood/khoroshev
Here we are trying to mend all the broken hearts
In a world where the pain is the fear
Aint no doubt theres a method to madness here
Set your clock to the start of a brand new year
Shine your heart to the universe and get the news
Not alone never have been, never will be
See the truth, not to mention the promise made
See them all, see them all high on judar rhythm
We began at the very first spring
How the promise will come when the promise is made
We will sing at the very first spring
That the promise will come when the promise is made
Promise is made, promise is made
Shake me up, take me up
Face to face
Lift me up, shake me up
Face to face
Make me real, make me longing to see you smile
Shall we dancing, shall we be the dancing down under
In this life of lives, are we ready to take the chance
Moving to the rhythm, here at last to
Believe
To believe
We began at the first real spring
How the promise will come when the promise is made
We will sing at the very first spring
That the promise will come when the promise is made
We began at the first real spring - ya
We will sing at the very first spring - ya
We began at the first real spring
We will sing at the very first spring
How the promise will come when the promise is made
Promise is made, promise is made
We began at the first real spring
That the promise will come when the promise is made
We will sing at the very first spring
That the promise will come when the promise is made
Promise is made, promise is made
Shake it up, take me up
Face to face
Face to face
Face to face
song performed by by Yes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Too Much of Nothing
My space is sacred.
My vital signs are fine for me.
No rat race paced.
I've removed myself from that misery.
Back off of my satisfaction.
Not attracted to a mess defined.
Nothing of mine is padlocked and stacked.
I've got a peace that sets me free.
My space is sacred.
My vital signs are fine for me.
No rat race paced.
I've removed myself from that misery.
Too much of nothing,
Is what others wish to bleed.
Too much of nothing isn't company I need.
Wrapped up and shackled...
I've got that madness packed.
I've got that tackled.
Wrapped up and shackled!
Too much of nothing,
Is what others wish to bleed.
Too much of nothing isn't company I need.
Wrapped up and shackled...
I've got that madness packed.
I've got that tackled.
Wrapped up and shackled!
My space is sacred...
And its kept safe,
From medicated minds!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Spring Cleaning
Clean away the cobwebs
make light of dirt and grime
wave high those feather dusters
it's now spring cleaning time
for spring's first day has broken
and those windows must be cleaned
cold winter's grey has gone away
replaced with fresher scenes
ah! the joy of such spring cleaning
oh! the joy of household life
sometimes i am the paragon
of a 1950's wife!
poem by David Keig
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This Affair Belongs to Spring
Sweet is the smell of trees.
Budding in the sunlight.
When Winter has gone...
And Spring begins to spread.
Creeping from a Winter unforgiving.
Green are the grapes on vines,
Growing in some gardens.
Lifted are blades of grass,
Surrounding flowers yet to bloom.
Making room for Spring,
Has got to have Winter whimpering.
So much laughter now has passed,
With holidays and memories to last.
But stored and packed to dust.
Cleaning up we must for Spring.
To witness beauty Spring can bring.
When we are in fresh air...
It is easier to leave the past alone.
Leave it there!
This affair belongs to Spring!
And Sing we do
To reunite
What this all means,
As Mother Nature brings new scenes!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Winters Over
I made it through.
Another winters over.
She was bitter.
At one point I didn't know if I could make it.
Yet I did.
I made it through.
Another winters over.
She was bitter.
At one point I didn't know if I could make it.
Yet I did.
Time for some repairs.
Make it even better for the next year.
I must be prepared.
For the harsh realities that bring so much despair.
I made it through.
Another winters over.
She was bitter.
At one point I didn't know if I could make it.
Yet I did.
I made it through.
Another winters over.
She was bitter.
At one point I didn't know if I could make it.
Yet I did.
Stipping off all these cloths.
I was so overloaded.
Like a snake I'm shedding my skin.
Replacing it with something better then.
Putting out my sign soon.
Home made and hand crafted.
So green all I used was my surroundings.
I made it through.
Another winters over.
She was bitter.
At one point I didn't know if I could make it.
Yet I did.
I made it through.
Another winters over.
She was bitter.
At one point I didn't know if I could make it.
Yet I did.
Still their is no single silver bullet when it comes to life.
No antidote to some difficulties.
Sometimes you must face things headon with a little sweat and hardwork maybe you'll come out on top.
Provide a helping hand to those who still have not.
Just because your better off doesn't mean so is everyone else.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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What Remains in an Empty House
There remains something, indefinable and invaluable,
left behind in an empty house; once the boxes are packed and sealed,
the trucks loaded, the tedious inventory and heavy hauling halted,
the obligatory labor dutifully fulfilled,
something remains, standing on its own, without feet nor measure,
apart from that human sense of accomplishment.
Something undeniable. Something I cannot resist.
Something that lays itself upon the silence without body nor motion.
Something unseen before now, appearing before my eyes in crisp, full view.
Once the accumulated clots of clutter are removed
blood flows, in vigorous currents, throughout the
cleansed arteries of an impeccable empty house.
A house void of pots and pans, potted plants,
silver cutlery and crystalware, plates,
clothes, loungers, divans, televisions, microwaves
comforters, mattresses, boxsprings and bedposts,
A house void of possession and convenience.
A house full of measureless, indivisible
space...
poem by Gregory Allen Uhan
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Lip and Nonsense
Choose if you wish,
To strip and whip me...
With lip and nonsense.
Too long have I recognize,
Longevity does not guarantee...
One a smooth life ride.
And I intend to enjoy every bit of it.
Spitting the experience of bitterness.
If there is a taste I can not stomach.
And admitting when and where,
Joy comes to sit and visit.
With a daring to prolong its stay!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Women will fly so high
The stigma attached
To widows and divorcees
Has been removed.
Men are officious to choose them.
The stigma attached
To errant women, premarital
And extra marital, will soon go.
Women then are free
To get freedom of sex.
No man can then cage them,
Who will fly so high.
25.09.2005
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Saint Dominics Preview
Shammy [chamois] cleaning all the windows,
Singing songs about edith piafs soul.
And I hear blue strains of no regredior
Across the street from cathedral notre dame.
Meanwhile back in san francisco
Were trying hard to make this whole thing blend,
As we sit upon this jagged
Storey block, with you my friend.
And its a long way to buffalo.
Its a long way to belfast city too.
And Im hoping the choice wont blow the hoist
cos this town, they bit off more than they can chew.
As we gaze out on, as we gaze out on
As we gaze out on, as we gaze out on
Saint dominics preview
Saint dominics preview
Saint dominics preview
All the orange boxes are scattered.
We get to safeways supermarket in the rain.
And everybody feels so determined
Not to feel anyone elses pain.
(you know that) no ones making no commitments
To anybody but themselves,
Hidin behind closed doorways,
Tryin to get outside, outside of empty shells
And for every cross-cuttin country corner,
For every hank williams railroad train that cried,
And all the chains, badges, flags and emblems
And every strain on every brain and every eye (? )
As we gaze out on, as we gaze out on
As we gaze out on, as we gaze out on
Saint dominics preview
Saint dominics preview
Saint dominics preview.
And the restaurant tables are completely covered.
The record company has paid out for the wine.
You got everything in the world you ever wanted
Right about now your face should wear a smile.
Thats the way it all should happen
When youre in, when youre in the state youre in;
Youve got your pen and notebook ready,
I think its about time, time for us to begin.
And were over in a 52nd street apartment,
Socializing with the whino few,
Just to be hip and get wet with the jet set.
But theyre flying too high to see my point of view.
As we gaze out on, as we gaze out on
As we gaze out on, as we gaze out on
Saint dominics preview
Saint dominics preview
Saint dominics preview.
See them freedom marching,
Out on the street, freedom marching.
Saint dominics preview.
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Budding
The budding.
A rebirth of a season missed.
Spring arrives to lift spirits high.
Clear blue skies are witnessed...
As white clouds drift.
The budding.
Of flowers and grass and the leaves,
On Oak, Maple and Birch Trees.
Welcomes a lilting done of wind,
Introducing a Spring breeze to ease...
With a life that seems to be enjoyed again.
The budding.
Of familiar love known,
Yet hibernated in the Winter...
Amidst snow drifts.
And we smile and laugh and again forget,
That stress we welcomed to separate us...
From identifying those blessings,
That surrounds us to reach for complete happiness.
To explore and experience all of nature's treasures.
As Spring awakens with a freshness it brings.
With the budding, the blooming and the joy!
As Spring awakens with a freshness it brings.
With the budding, the blooming and the joy!
As Spring awakens with a freshness it brings.
With the budding.
The blooming done.
And the joy!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Braiding
1.
We two sit on our bed, you
between my legs, your back to me, your head
slightly bowed, that I may brush and braid
your hair. My father
did this for my mother,
just as I do for you. One hand
holds the hem of you hair, the other
works the brush. Both hands climb
as the strokes grow
longer, until I use not only my wrists,
but my arms, then my shoulders, my whole body
rocking in a rower's rhythm, a lover's
even time, as the tangles are undone,
and brush and bare hand run the thick,
fluent length of your hair, whose wintry scent
comes, a faint, human musk.
2.
Last night the room was so cold
I dreamed we were in Pittsburgh again, where winter
persisted and we fell asleep in the last seat
of the 71 Negley, dark mornings going to work.
How I wish we didn't hate those years
while we lived them.
Those were days of books,
days of silences stacked high
as the ceiling of that great, dim hall
where we studied. I remember
the thick, oak tabletops, how cool
they felt against my face
when I lay my head down and slept.
3.
How long your hair has grown.
Gradually, December.
4.
There will come a day
one of us will have to imagine this: you,
after your bath, crosslegged on the bed, sleepy, patient,
while I braid your hair.
5.
Here, what's made, these braids, unmakes
itself in time, and must be made
again, within and against
time. So I braid
your hair each day.
My fingers gather, measure hair,
hook, pull and twist hair and hair.
Deft, quick, they plait,
weave, articulate lock and lock, to make
and make these braids, which point
the direction of my going, of all our continuous going.
And though what's made does not abide,
my making is steadfast, and, besides, there is a making
of which this making-in-time is just a part,
a making which abides
beyond the hands which rise in the combing,
the hands which fall in the braiding,
trailing hair in each stage of its unbraiding.
6.
Love, how the hours accumulate. Uncountable.
The trees grow tall, some people walk away
and diminish forever.
The damp pewter days slip around without warning
and we cross over one year and one year.
poem by Li-Young Lee
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You Blame Your Baby's Mama
You're one of the 'could ofs'...
With an 'if' attached.
And a 'would of'...
As a perfect match.
With a 'should of'...
And a private stash If you had 'moolah',
Packed in stacks.
Oh you're one of the 'could ofs'...
With an 'if' attached.
And a 'would of'...
As a perfect match.
With a 'should of'...
And a private stash If you had 'moolah',
Packed in stacks.
But you blame your baby's mama.
And she's tired of your drama.
Yes!
You're one of the 'could ofs'...
With an 'if' attached.
And a 'would of'...
As a perfect match.
With a 'should of'...
And a private stash If you had 'moolah',
Packed in stacks.
But you blame your baby's mama.
And she's tired of your...
DRAMA.
You're one of the 'could ofs'...
With an 'if' attached.
And a 'would of'...
As a perfect match.
With a 'should of'...
And a private stash If you had 'moolah',
Packed in stacks.
You are afflicted,
To dump on your baby's mama.
You're a kid afflicted.
Bringing her nothing,
But all of your drama.
You're afflicted,
To dump on your baby's mama.
As if she wishes,
Not a man...
But a boy of high drama.
You're one of the 'could ofs'...
With an 'if' attached.
And a 'would of'...
As a perfect match.
You're afflicted,
To dump on your baby's mama.
As if she wishes,
Not a man...
But a boy of high drama.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Spring Cleaning Day
Spring Cleaning Day*
The strain of a deep winter's frost
Has taken it's toll and I've paid the cost
Layers of loam, dust and grime
Have collected and built up over time
Spring now arrives, newness begins
But my windowed soul is still in a spin
Try as I must to chisel away
The soot on my soul for it's spring cleaning day
*inspired by GIG
21 May 2008
Spring Tones
Spring tones are coming
From the inside blooming
Spring is here everywhere
In footsteps of New Year
Flower garden come - grow
Melt down coldness snow
With freedom for earth
In its new freshness birth
Spring's time blowing wind
Towards icily rescind
Of bleakness deep dim
In the blow sweepings grim
Where cold waves glide
In its striking bitter tide
Flowing on to dark destiny
Still inside you and me
Spring tone rise - the blue sky!
In feelings of light high
That comes through the rays
Of the new meeting days
Give seeds of its outcomes
In birth of new blooms
And every day to be new
When it comes here through
poem by Peter S. Quinn
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Louisa
Louisa, make it a point to visit Ghana;
For the nature is there for you to admire.
Of the Bobiri Forest and Betterfly Sanctuary to visit,
Of the Wechiau Hippo Sanctuary to visit,
Of the Xavi Bird Watching Sanctuary to visit,
Of the Kakum National Park to visit,
Of the Aburi Botanical Gardens to visit,
Of the Bui National Park to visit,
Of the Ankasa Nature Park to visit,
Of the Bonsu Arboretum Park to visit,
Of the Digya National Park to visit,
And to sit under a broom tree with us;
Like a reed shaking in the water of love.
Louisa, make a trip to Ghana and see this lovely place;
For the nature is there for you to admire.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Taking Too Long Is Not Recommended
The only drawback there is,
To making up one's mind...
With a final decision made,
Is the time, date and the year of it.
And what one believes is needed,
To decide.
If one still has high expectations,
Those awaiting for a response...
For a decision to be made.
And finally that day comes...
As if a light switch has been turned on!
That expectation once high,
Should be lowered considerably.
Since...
The likelihood of that decision made,
Being obsolete...
Is more than just likely a given!
'I'm sorry.
Who are you again?
You say we were the best of friends,
Back 'then'?
WHEN?
How far back is 'then'?
I don't remember you at all.
Oh...
Wait a minute.
Wait a minute.
I do!
Geeessshhh.
What happened to you?
You don't look the same at all.
I don't remember what was discussed.
What was it? '
The only drawback there is,
To making up one's mind...
With a final decision to make,
Is the time, date and the year of it.
And...
When one is requesting time to think things over,
Taking too long is not recommended.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cloud and atmosphere
Clouds appear
In the atmosphere
Atmosphere remained
Uncontaminated by clouds
Clouds is not always present
In the atmosphere
Atmosphere exists
Even when there is no clouds.
There is no clouds
There is atmosphere
There is no atmosphere
There is no clouds
Clouds is atmosphere
Atmosphere is not clouds.
Atmosphere exists in its own beings
Clouds has no separate existence
You are my atmosphere
I'm your cloud
Pray
Make me always clear
And in good use.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Making Love Out Of Nothing At All
(jim steinman)
I know just how to whisper,
And I know just how to cry;
I know just where to find the answers;
And I know just how to lie.
I know just how to fake it,
And I know just how to scheme;
I know just when to face the truth,
And then I know just when to dream.
And I know just where to touch you,
And I know just what to prove;
I know when to pull you closer,
And I know when to let you loose.
And I know the night is fading,
And I know that times gonna fly;
And Im never gonna tell you everything
Ive got to tell you,
But I know Ive got to give it a try.
And I know the roads to riches,
And I know the ways to fame;
I know all the rules
And then I know how to break em
And I always know the name of the game.
But I dont know how to leave you,
And Ill never let you fall;
And I dont know how you do it,
Making love out of nothing at all
(making love)
Out of nothing at all,
(making love)
Out of nothing at all,
(making love)
Out of nothing at all,
(making love)
Out of nothing at all,
(making love)
Out of nothing at all
(making love)
Out of nothing at all.
Every time I see you all the rays of the sun
Are streaming through the waves in your hair;
And every star in the sky is taking aim
At your eyes like a spotlight,
The beating of my heart is a drum, and its lost
And its looking for a rhythm like you.
You can take the darkness from the pit of the night
And turn into a beacon burning endlessly bright.
Ive got to follow it, cause everything I know, well its nothing till I give it to you.
I can make the run or stumble,
I can make the final block;
And I can make every tackle, at the sound of the whistle,
I can make all the stadiums rock.
I can make tonight forever,
Or I can make it disappear by the dawn;
And I can make you every promise that has ever been made,
And I can make all your demons be gone.
But Im never gonna make it without you,
Do you really want to see me crawl?
And Im never gonna make it like you do,
Making love out of nothing at all.
(making love)
Out of nothing at all
(making love)
Out of nothing at all
(making love)
Out of nothing at all
(making love)
Out of nothing at all
(making love)
Out of nothing at all
(making love)
Out of nothing at all
(making love)
song performed by by Air Supply
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Covenant Woman
Covenant woman got a contract with the lord
Way up yonder, great will be her reward.
Covenant woman, shining like a morning star,
I know I can trust you to stay where you are.
And I just got to tell you
I do intend
To stay closer than any friend.
I just got to thank you
Once again
For making your prayers known
Unto heaven for me
And to you, always, so grateful
I will forever be.
Ive been broken, shattered like an empty cup.
Im just waiting on the lord to rebuild and fill me up
And I know he will do it cause hes faithful and hes true,
He must have loved me so much to send me someone as fine as you.
And I just got to tell you
I do intend
To stay closer than any friend.
I just got to thank you
Once again
For making your prayers known
Unto heaven for me
And to you, always, so grateful
I will forever be.
Covenant woman, intimate little girl
Who knows those most secret things of me that are hidden from the world.
You know we are strangers in a land were passing through.
Ill always be right by your side, Ive got a covenant too.
And I just got to tell you
I do intend
To stay closer than any friend.
I just got to thank you
Once again
For making your prayers known
Unto heaven for me
And to you, always, so grateful
I will forever be.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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