Alice - The Prelude
Legs tucked under,
a book across innocent thighs
knees covered with a calico print.
She reads aloud with perfect slowness,
celebrating each article and preposition,
every phrase climbing as a song.
With a pink-piggy finger
and a translucent fingernail
she traces each letter.
Finishing each word with a flourish
she rudely wags a finger,
giving the naughty book a good telling off.
Yet there are the first signs,
the sky thick with blue, bees agitated,
the earth starting to sink,
There are strangers waiting
to steal her attention
as her long dark locks move windless.
poem by Leslie Philibert
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Little Wise Pink Book.
Oh! The wise little pink book,
Which contain the wise words and pictures,
Where my love lies,
And ma heart lay its head.
How shall I forget about you?
You the mother of ma heart,
Oh! My heart soothers.
Which soothes every pimple that causes agony in ma heart.
You’re my photos album,
when I want to see ma boom,
You contain pictures of ma heart,
From head to toe,
I love you so much, little pink book.
You’re my dictionary,
Whenever I need any love word’s meaning,
Ma love encyclopedia,
To calm my psycho-phobia.
I love you little pink book,
You have been the source of my comfort,
When ma heart was in trouble,
I can’t forget about you,
Little wise pink book.
You are everything,
You are the promise we make,
A phone-family we set-up,
Oh! Little pink book,
You are the CPA of our love.
I love you little pink book.
My eyes shall not let down,
Neither will my heart fail you,
For your words pass through my eyes down to ma heart surpassing my brain,
I love you, little pink book.
My life is yours, little pink book.
poem by Constant's Laiv
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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After Auschwitz
Anger,
as black as a hook,
overtakes me.
Each day,
each Nazi
took, at 8: 00 A.M., a baby
and sauteed him for breakfast
in his frying pan.
And death looks on with a casual eye
and picks at the dirt under his fingernail.
Man is evil,
I say aloud.
Man is a flower
that should be burnt,
I say aloud.
Man
is a bird full of mud,
I say aloud.
And death looks on with a casual eye
and scratches his anus.
Man with his small pink toes,
with his miraculous fingers
is not a temple
but an outhouse,
I say aloud.
Let man never again raise his teacup.
Let man never again write a book.
Let man never again put on his shoe.
Let man never again raise his eyes,
on a soft July night.
Never. Never. Never. Never. Never.
I say those things aloud.
I beg the Lord not to hear.
poem by Anne Sexton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I began thinking there should be an American phrase book, 'cause I've got an Italian phrase book, and an Arabic one... now a British one. I think it'd be pretty good to have an American phrase book.
quote by Joe Strummer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wrapped Around Your Finger
You consider me the young apprentice
Caught between the Scylla and Charibdes.
Hypnotized by you if I should linger
Staring at the ring around your finger.
I have only come here seeking knowledge,
Things they would not teach me of in college.
I cant see the best in me
That you saw
I'll be wrapped around your finger.
I'll be wrapped around your finger.
Mephistopheles is not your name,
But I know what you're up to just the same.
I will listen hard to your tuition,
And you will see it come to it's fruition.
I'll be wrapped around your finger.
I'll be wrapped around your finger.
Devil and the deep blue sea behind me
Vanish in the air you'll never find me.
I will turn your face to alabaster,
Then you'll find your servant is your master,
And you'll be wrapped around my finger.
I'll be wrapped around your finger.
You'll be wrapped around my finger.
I'll be wrapped around your finger
song performed by by Underoath
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Quintetto
[To the tune of "Turning, turning, turning, as wheel goes round."]
RECITATIVE. MR. PAPERSTAMP:
Jack Horner's CHRISTMAS PIE my learned nurse
Interpreted to mean the public purse.
From thence a plum he drew. O happy Horner!
Who would not be ensconced in thy snug corner
THE FIVE:
While round the public board all eagerly we linger,
for what we can get we will try, try, try:
And we'll all have a finger, a finger, a finger,
We'll all have a finger in the CHRISTMAS PIE.
MR. FEATHERNEST:
By my own poetic laws, I'm a dealer in applause
For those who don't deserve it, but will buy, buy
So round the court I linger, and thus I get a finget
A finger, finger, finger in the CHRISTMAS PIE.
THE FIVE:
And we'll all have a finger, a finger, a finger,
We'll all have a finger in the CHRISTMAS PIE.
MR. VAMP:
My share of pie to win, I will dash through thick and thin
And philosophy and liberty shall fly, fly, fly:
And truth and taste shall know, that their eve Iasting foe
Has a finger, finger, finger in the CHRISTMAS PIE.
THE FIVE:
And we'll all have a finger, a finger, a finger,
We'll all have a finger in the CHRISTMAS PIE.
MR. KILLTHEDEAD:
I'll make my verses rattle with the din of war and battle,
For war doth increase sa-la-ry, ry, ry:
And I'll shake the public ears with the triumph of Algiers,
And thus I ll get a finger in the CHRISTMAS PIE.
THE FIVE:
And we'll all have a finger, a finger, a finger,
We'll all have a finger in the CHRISTMAS PIE.
MR. PAPERSTAMP:
And while you thrive by ranting, I'll try my luck at canting,
And scribble verse and prose all so dry, dry, dry:
And Mystic's patent smoke public intellect shall choke,
Arld we ll all have a finger in the CHRISTMAS PIE.
THE FIVE:
We'll all have a finger, a finger, a finger,
We'll all have a finger in the CHRISTMAS PIE.
MR. ANYSIDE ANTIJACK:
My tailor is so clever, that my coat will turn for ever,
And take any colour you can dye, dye, dye:
For all my earthly wishes are among the loaves and fishes,
And to have my little finger in the CHRISTMAS PIE.
THE FIVE:
And we'll all have a finger, a finger, a finger,
We'll all have a finger in the CHRISTMAS PIE.
poem by Thomas Love Peacock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Book Of Love
In the book of love come of age
When you lose your love, you turn the page
Hey-ho the book of love,
Life is written in your own blood
Say forever and it all sounds fine
When youre holding hands,
With the hands of time
Hey-ho the book of love
Laugh at the dead but tomorrow you cry
Chorus:
My broken hearts from a to z
Dos and donts on bended knees
Change of lovers endlessly
And this book of love is writing me
Chapter 2 you walk away
But in chapter 3 a man made me stay
Hey-ho the book of love
Why dontcha look up
All the games you played
Chorus
Theyll be sweet love in a darkness
But the book of love
Is a story of your loneliness
Finger tipped it on a holy night
And a page is ripped for a name of life
Check the back cause the datell be due
When theyll throw the book of love at you
They are broken hearts from a to z
Dos and donts on bended knees
Disappointed right to be
Celebrate a celebrity
K-i-s-s-i-n-g
Ah stupid cupid set me free
Took a look and whatll I see
This book of love is writing me
This book of love is writing me
This book of love is writing me
This book of love is writing me
song performed by by Cher
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Kitchen Sink
my finger traces
a still barely
visible band
on my 4th finger
our ex-anniversary
is now my memory
a constant companion
to might-have-beens
yesterday had so much
prospect and promise
today I face a sink
full of dirty dishes
`
poem by Frederick Kesner
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Fairy Book
In summer, when the grass is thick, if Mother has the time,
She shows me with her pencil how a poet makes a rhyme,
And often she is sweet enough to choose a leafy nook,
Where I cuddle up so closely when she reads the Fairy-book.
In winter when the corn's asleep, and birds are not in song.
And crocuses and violets have been away too long,
Dear Mother puts her thimble by in answer to my look,
And I cuddle up so closely when she reads the Fairy-book.
And Mother tells the servants that of course they must contrive
To manage all the househod things from four till half-past five,
For we really cannot suffer interruption from the cook,
When we cuddle close together with the happy Fairy-book.
poem by Norman Rowland Gale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Moon is a Fingernail
The Moon is a fingernail sliver in the sky
A clipping chewed off a finger, sheered from a finger in the sky
poem by by unknown author
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I had an idea in the beginning to do a book about some of the events that I had covered, just various stories that I've covered. Reporters spend a lot of time telling each other tales about how they covered stories, and that's what this book started out to be.
quote by Bob Schieffer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wrapped around your finger
You consider me the young apprentice
Caught between the Scylla and Charibdes.
Hypnotized by you if I should linger
Starring at the ring around your finger
I have only come here seeking knowledge
Things they wouldn't teach me of in college
I can see the destiny you sold
Turn into a shining band of hope
I'll be wrapped around your finger
I'll be wrapped around your finger
Nafostaveles is not your name
But I know what you're up to just the same
I will listen hard to your tuition
You will see it come to it's fruition
I'll be wrapped around your finger
I'll be wrapped around your finger
Devil and the deep blue see behind me
Vanish in the air you'll never find me
I will turn you face to alabaster
Then you'll find you're servant is your master
You'll be wrapped around my finger
You'll be wrapped around my finger
You'll be wrapped around my finger
song performed by by Green Lizard from Identity
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The good of a book lies in its being read. A book is made up of signs that speak of other signs, which in their turn speak of things. Without an eye to read them, a book contains signs that produce no concepts; therefore it is dumb.
quote by Umberto Eco
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Opening Up To You
Opening up to you,
The night before,
red finger nails!
Dark finger nails!
White finger nails!
Blue finger nails!
To utter it out;
The thoughts of man,
The thoughts of woman,
The thoughts of a child! !
But, holding the torch and to touch you.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Sylvia
Sylvia is missing -
Dark stars tattooed
Across her face...
Tiny bruises
Black & blue
The dedication on her arm
Reads love & hate
Yea yea
Passing through the underground
Sylvia is coming down
The queen has lost her crown
Today...
She wants to fall
Into a deep deep sleep
So she can forget herself
Run away to london
Lipstick tainted
Powder painted
Perfume in her hair
Run away to london
A thousand cold caresses
Couldnt keep her there
Yea yea
She wants to fall
Into a deep deep sleep
So she can forget herself
The finger prints
Of strangers
On the ugly bedroom floor
Reveal the only traces
Of what sylvia was for
song performed by by Eurythmics
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Car On A Hill
Ive been sitting up waiting for my sugar to show
Ive been listening to the sirens and the radio
He said hed be over three hours ago
Ive been waiting for his car on the hill
He makes friends easy
Hes not like me
I watch for judgement anxiously
Now where in the city can that boy be
Waiting for a car
Climbing
Climbing
Climbing the hill
Hes a real good talker--i think hes friend
Fast tires come screaming around the bend
But theres still no buzzer
They roll on...
And-Im waiting for his car on the hill
It always seems so righteous at the start
When theres so much laughter
When theres so much spark
When theres so much sweetness in the dark
Waiting for a car
Climbing
Climbing
Climbing the hill
song performed by by Joni Mitchell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Can't Put My Finger On It
Is it alive, does it writhe
Can it survive under the sun?
I can't put my finger on it.
Is it green, is it red
Is it alive or is it dead
I can't put my finger on it
Scathe with a lathe
All the days in the past
I can't put my finger on it
Is it brown, is it white
Is it really outta sight
I can't put my finger on it
Can it squeal, does it squirm
If it's fresh will it burn?
I can't put my finger on it
Can it fly, will it try
If the wings are still wet?
I can't put my finger on it
Can it heal, is it real
Can it feel the threads of time?
I can't put my finger on it
Does it glow, will it shine
Does it leave a trail of slime
I can't put my finger on it
Are you surprised when I touch the dwarf inside?
(Repeat three times)
(Repeat first verse
song performed by by Ween
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Finger Poppin'
I used to jump when you called
And I would cry when you leave
I had to plan every move
Just to keep you pleased
But I don't care no more
About nothing you do
Now I'm goin' shoppin'
Finger, fingerpoppin' on you
I got bags under my eyes
From losin' sleep
You gave me malnutrition
'Cause I just couldn't eat
But I don't care no more
About nothin' you do, boo hoo
'Cause I'm goin' shoppin'
Finger, fingerpoppin' on you
You never bought me no clothes
I had to steal what I wear
I wore shoes so long
'Til my feet were bare
But I don't care no more
About nothin' you do, oh no
And I'm goin' shoppin'
Finger, fingerpoppin' on you
song performed by by Tina Turner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The History Of You And Me
Everytime you think of me.
Write it all down in your diary.
And never forget you were mine.
'Cause you can write a book about love.
And you can write a book about history.
The history of you and me..
On every page that you write.
Move your pen, with those old memories of me.
Holding me in your arms.
'Cause you can write a book about love.
And you can write a book about history.
The history of you and me..
Try not to miss a word.
Don't miss a single word, about those old romantic nights.
The nights you spent with me.
'Cause you can write a book about love.
And you can write a book about history.
The history of you and me..
Yaahh! The history of you and me....
Love Song Poem By Kim Robin Edwards
Copyright 1990,2009..
ALL rights reserved..
poem by Kim Robin Edwards
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When I found the book was condemned as soon as the book was printed, or rather as soon as it was set up ready to print, I held it in plates for a year nearly, waiting to see what would come out of all this discussion.
quote by John Harvey Kellogg
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pink Letter
Dear Father,
To thee this letter
Is written with a child’s wonder.
Pink ink
On a fancy paper almost pink
Like a blush on a maiden’s cheek
Like rose abloom in mountain’s peak.
Pink letter in the hands of a child
Bears words innocent and mild
Glorifying the father who made all –
tame and wild.
Pink letter with heavenly scent
Pink ink that stays, not evanescent
Lasts in the heart of the child who writes
Too innocent to name wrong from right.
Dear Father,
To thee this letter
Is written with a child’s wonder.
poem by Geraldine Fernandez
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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