Carrion
Her children were segregating her belongings
Into two heaps, 'Litter' and 'Cash.'
She had died two days before, and they were tearing
At the carrion of her being.
From a stack of papers in her son's hands,
Several pages had blown into the shrubs.
He had not bothered to pick them up.
Unable to lift himself higher than his character could arouse,
He threw her collection of old love letters, verse and journals,
Into the trash bin.
As he discarded the treasure of her thoughts,
I gathered three poems from beneath the bush.
Reading the last lines from one:
'Forget, if you can
All the dreams we began,
I really had a lovely time.'
And, the lid slammed shut.
poem by Lynn W. Petty
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Your Cash Ain't Nothing But Trash
(c. calhoun)
Walking down the main drag one night
I met a fine chick that looked- just right
She stopped in and i flashed my roll
I told her she could have all of my dough
She turned around, and with a fround
She said this ain't no circus and i don't need a clown
Your cash ain't nothin' but trash
Your cash ain't nothin' but trash
Your cash ain't nothin' but trash
So there ain't no need in your hangin' around
Just to make the hit with that chick
I tried to get a cadillac right quick
The man at the place looked so strange
I had nine hundred bucks and some change
We disagreed, i tried to pleed
He said i ain't no chicken and i don't need your feed
Your cash ain't nothin' but trash
Your cash ain't nothin' but trash
Your cash ain't nothin' but trash
Then brother you're crawling we passed your speed
I'm walking and countin my bucks
The man with the gun said hands up
I tried to get away but i was too slow
He caught me and took all of my dough
I heard him shout, as he cut out
"you really lost nothing what you're crying about?"
Your cash ain't nothin' but trash
Your cash ain't nothin' but trash
Your cash ain't nothin' but trash
And he took my watch and i passed out
I woke in the arms of a big cop
Police station next stop
The judge swung his fist down plunk plunk
Twenty dollar fine 'cause you're drunk
Dig up the dough, and you can go
And all i had was a buffalo
Your cash ain't nothin' but trash
Your cash ain't nothin' but trash
Your cash ain't nothin' but trash
But i sure better get me some more
song performed by by Huey Lewis And The News
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bonzo Goes To Bitberg
You've got to pick up the pieces C'mon, sort your trash
You better pull yourself back together Maybe you've got too much cash
Better call, call the law When you gonna turn yourself in? Yeah
You're a politician Don't become one of Hitler's children
Bonzo goes to bitburg then goes out for a cup of tea
As I watched it on TV somehow it really bothered me
Drank in all the bars in town for an extended foreign policy
Pick up the pieces
My brain is hanging upside down I need something to slow me down
My brain is hanging upside down I need something to slow me down
Shouldn't wish you happiness, wish her the very best Fifty thousand dollar dress
Shaking hands with your highness See through you like cellophane
You watch the world complain, but you do it anyway Who am I, am I to say
Bonzo goes to bitburg then goes out for a cup of tea
As I watched it on TV somehow it really bothered me
Drank in all the bars in town for an extended foreign policy
Pick up the pieces
My brain is hanging upside down I need something to slow me down
My brain is hanging upside down I need something to slow me down
If there's one thing that makes me sick It's when someone tries to hide behind politics
I wish that time could go by fast Somehow they manage to make it last
My brain is hanging upside down I need something to slow me down
My brain is hanging upside down I need something to slow me down
My brain is hanging upside down I need something to slow me down
My brain is hanging upside down I need something to slow me down
song performed by by Ramones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bonzo Goes To Bitburg
Youve got to pick up the pieces cmon, sort your trash
You better pull yourself back together maybe youve got too much cash
Better call, call the law when you gonna turn yourself in? yeah
Youre a politician dont become one of hitlers children
Bonzo goes to bitburg then goes out for a cup of tea
As I watched it on tv somehow it really bothered me
Drank in all the bars in town for an extended foreign policy
Pick up the pieces
My brain is hanging upside down I need something to slow me down
My brain is hanging upside down I need something to slow me down
Shouldnt wish you happiness, wish her the very best fifty thousand dollar dress
Shaking hands with your highness see through you like cellophane
You watch the world complain, but you do it anyway who am i, am I to say
Bonzo goes to bitburg then goes out for a cup of tea
As I watched it on tv somehow it really bothered me
Drank in all the bars in town for an extended foreign policy
Pick up the pieces
My brain is hanging upside down I need something to slow me down
My brain is hanging upside down I need something to slow me down
If theres one thing that makes me sick its when someone tries to hide behind politics
I wish that time could go by fast somehow they manage to make it last
My brain is hanging upside down I need something to slow me down
My brain is hanging upside down I need something to slow me down
My brain is hanging upside down I need something to slow me down
My brain is hanging upside down I need something to slow me down
song performed by by Ramones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Some Days
SOME DAYS I’M TOO TIRED TO BE INSPIRED
AND SOME DAYS I’M QUICK AS A WINK
WHEN I DON’T HAVE TO THINK.
THE THOUGHTS WILL FLOW LIKE WINE IN A GLASS
SHOWING THE PRESENT, FUTURE AND THE PAST.
IT IS NOT REALLY HARD TO DO
IF TO YOURSELF YOU BE TRUE.
LOOK AND LISTEN TO EVERY SIGHT AND SOUND
IT WILL PICK YOU UP AND PUT YOU DOWN.
TO ALL THE BEAUTIES THAT CAN BE FOUND.
PUTTING ALL YOUR THOUGHTS, FEELINGS
AND DREAMS ON PAPER
NOTHING CAN BE MUCH SAFER.
YOU TELL OF STORIES THAT THEY
NEVER HEARD OF, OR DARED TO DREAM
INTO A FEW LINES.
AND IN THEIR MINDS WILL LAST
FOR A VERY LONG TIME.
WHEN THOSE “ SOME DAYS “ COME TO YOU
AND YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO.
SIT AND WRITE JUST A FEW LINES
THEN YOU’LL SEE YOU HAVE THE TIME.
TIME TO ENJOY ALL THE BEAUTIES
THAT SURROUND YOUR LIFE
WITH FAMILY, FRIENDS, HUSBAND AND WIFE.
poem by Louis Rams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Oh The Poems
OH THE POEMS AND THE POEMS AND THE POEMS
Oh the poems and the poems and the poems
Oh the love of Literature
Oh all that stuff
I have given my life to-
Words and meanings and feelings
Pages and pages and pages –
What it is all this literary life for?
When out the window out the door
With our eyes we see in an instant other worlds other dreams?
I don’t know and I will never know
And Literature is certainly far more than I can say it is-
Oh the poems and this poem and this day turning grey
And all my life old and old and more old and more old-
Oh why oh why oh why
And always back to God
My last rescue and refuge and escape
I who have read so much Great Literature
And can only write this-
Oh the why and the oh oh oh and the words
And the whole world of Literature
I would belong to and do not.
Oh the words oh the world oh the Literature
Oh God help me please can’t you please help me a little or not?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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As the ink begins to run...! ! ! ! ! ! !
A sheaf of papers got swept with the breeze,
Like kites my poems took flight with ease.
I watched as drifted and fell to the ground,
On the freshly mowed grass, without a sound.
Is there anything new about my thoughts?
I wondered feeling a bit startled and distraught.
What ever makes me feel they are so very unique?
Aren’t they intrinsic part of being human, felt intrigued?
Dark clouds gathered and hid the setting Sun,
Soon light showers soaked the papers, ink began to run,
Like salty tears wet the cheeks of an overwhelmed heart.
How come I feel free … I muttered to no one with a start.
poem by Mamta Agarwal
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Black Crows
Darkness and light, wrong and right
thoughts bleed and dissolve, dreams evolve
paper and smoke, churn and stroke
prayers drip like sweat, slavery and debt
White trash fires, unholy liars
truth falls off the edge, desire walks the ledge
political drugs, who picks the judge
hammers of fear, moments lost to years
Graves open and close, nuclear rose
black shadows turn, pages crumple and burn
lightning or gunfire, stakes higher and higher
death clock chimes, wind thru the pines...
black crows on the lines... black crows on the lines...
Mothers crying and cold, babies bought and sold
welfare Cadillacs, anxiety attacks
trailor tub meth, lonesome last breath
kneeling by the bed, prayers for the dead
Runaways lost, who pays the cost
nursing home ghosts, headstones and posts
pictures turning yellow, goodbyes and hellos
people folded and spent, no messengers sent...
Graves open and close, nuclear rose
black shadows turn, pages crumple and burn
lightning or gunfire, stakes higher and higher
death clock chimes, wind thru the pines...
black crows on the lines... black crows on the lines...
poem by Eric Cockrell
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The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part I: To Manon: XII
ON READING CERTAIN LETTERS
Reading these lines, this record of lost days
Where I am not, and yet where love has been,
This tale of passions consecrate to men
Other than me, unwitting of my ways,
I seem to hear some pagan chaunt of praise
Hymned to an idol shrine in gardens green,
Some wild soft worship of a god obscene,
Some idle homage to an idol face.
I shut my ears, yet hear it still. My eyes
See not, yet see the unchaste the unlawful fire;
I scent the odour of the sacrifice,
And feel the victim's shriek. Then in my ire
I rise up, as on Horeb, and I cry,
``There is none other god, but only I!''
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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My Trash
in the house
at the kitchen
one finds that black bag
filled with trash
one has to throw them away
no keeps them
in our mind
in the same manner
there are thoughts
which are trash
and there is the black bag
one has to throw all these trash
away
in my poems
i got a trash
got a black bag
and i am throwing all these away
what us have to things
and thoughts
that no one loves?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Unsent, Unsaid
Unsent, Unsaid
A favorite song plays in the background,
Every lyric reminding me of you.
Conversations running through my head,
So many things that I wish you knew.
Every time that you brought me happiness,
I just never quite knew what to say.
I was afraid to say the wrong thing,
Thinking it would make you go away.
Every night I did the same old thing,
I wrote poem after poem on my bed.
I love you written a hundred ways,
Because of fear, they were never said.
The stack of poems stands tall.
Not one ever made it to you.
You simply walked away from me,
And a love that you never knew.
If only I would have taken a chance,
I know that you would still be here.
At night I still write you many poems,
Only now the ink is mixed with tears.
A growing pile, never ceasing,
Never signed, never read.
Painful letters engraved in papers,
Unsent, unsaid
poem by John Samson
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I Know Only Poems With Rhyme
To the children of the world
I know only poems with rhyme
That stay in tune with ev’ry clime.
I know only poems with beat
That make me stand up on my feet.
When poets all have breathed their last,
And poems are buried in dust,
Then children will come out in time
To dig the poems, black with grime.
And when the cloud of dust is gone,
And children are through having fun,
They’ll throw away poems like lime
But pick up only those with rhyme.
poem by Gilbert Pangyarihan
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So The Story Goes
I close my eyes
To the sound of the sky and I see
Birds in the trees in pastures green
Nothing to do
With the time or the place I perceive
The rush of the sea beneath my feet
Such a lovely world
Oh so magical
Precious like a pearl
Wrapped up in a shell
Build your house of stone
On a bed of sand
Time and tide will rise
Washing through your hands
Hear your heart
See the love
Feel the soul lift up
Hear your heart
See the love
Feel the soul lift up
I lift my eyes
To the sound in the sky and I hear it
A voice on the breeze is so serene
Nothing to do
With the time or the place but I feel it
Like dust on the moon beneath my feet
Such a lovely world
Oh so magical
So the story goes
Sing the madrigal
What a lovely world
Waxing lyrical
See the lies unfold
Hear the miracle
So the story goes...
The lies and the miracle unfold
song performed by by Erasure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Old Love Letters
Faded love letters
Written from the heart
Pages faded yellow
While we’ve been apart
New loves come
And old loves disappear
But Your old love letters
Will always be here
There’s a tear on every page
For the nights I cried for you
The love within those pages
At the time was very true
But the years of being apart
Has let our love slip away
And all I have left now
Is faded love letters from you
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Comfort of Obscurity
INSPIRED BY READING MR. KIPLING'S POEMS AS
PRINTED IN THE NEW YORK PAPERS
Though earnest and industrious,
I still am unillustrious;
No papers empty purses
Printing verses
Such as mine.
No lack of fame is chronicker
Than that about my monicker;
My verse is never cabled
At a fabled
Rate per line.
Still though the Halls
Of Literature are closed
To me a bard obscure I
Have a consolation The
Copyreaders crude and rough
Can't monkey with my
Humble stuff and change MY
Punctuation.
poem by Franklin P. Adams
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The Life Of A Thinker
you do not know how is it to live as a thinker
literature has portrayed an old man to this art
long white beard, silver hair unkempt
baths sacrificed for the constant write
hands on the paper before him
dawn and night and day
nothing matters really now except those thoughts
heaps and heaps of books and files of papers abounding
the room and wall practically all not just pulp
but binders and paper clips as well
outside him the world changes
seasons keep on changing
light and darkness exchanged vows
the journey is about to end
he knows where he is
a place where time is dead.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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It Isn't Everyday One Makes An Order, And Throws Out The Past
It isn’t everyday one makes an order, throws out the past
Goes through the piles of old papers
And sees here a missed opportunity there another time of life
Which one has long forgotten
Throwing most of the business papers away
And holding on to most personal things
One finds letters one did not answer
And dreams one did not begin to realize
Pictures are most painful
People no longer here
Loved ones in youth
Oneself as one was and will never be again
A life in these things
And almost gone
Cancelled bank books
Money one had once and no longer has
Love and people who were once one’s whole life
And are now strangers
The children
In so many different ages and times
The children no longer children
The past too too much past
Weighing me down with grief and despair
Asking myself how I can go on and for how much longer
Before someone else has to deal with the mess
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Lift Me Higher
Follow the sound that is far away
Cause the love that I found
Becomes stronger everyday
Please take my hand so we can fly away
Then youll understand
That the love I have for you will always stay.
Cant we fly away
Reach your hand and follow me
Let me be your fantasy
Lift me higher now
Lift me higher now
Let the music take control
Of your body and your soul
Lift me higher now
Lift me higher now
song performed by by Kate Ryan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I started to send my work to journals when I was 26, which was just a question of when I got the courage up. They were mostly journals I had been reading for the previous six or seven years.
quote by Marilyn Hacker
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Once, if memory serves me well, life was a banquet where every wine flowed and every heart revealed itself.
once
in that banquet table i drink
and got drunk and danced so wildly
and exposed
my nudity, and people laughed at me
and said: there you are
you are not like us
you are too tiny like a gnat
and stinking like
a glut
i slept that night and they all left me
that morning i gathered my shirt and brief and pants
combed my hair with my fingers and cleaned myself with my own tongue
like a cat with my paw
i gathered all the pieces all the days of my life
and began assembling my parts
alone because they all left me because they all find me ugly
and disgusting
and then i left the place and searched for home
far i have walked and traveled
and never rested
only to find that everything is just within the reach of my own hands
this heart this mind this self
who else? but me, this love this hurt
this peace
the rest are but appendices
and must be discarded.
now life is a private show
even if you cry alone, your tears are still yours
salty, but not bitter
wet but still gleaming.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Photograph Of You In B & W
i keep it in one of the pages of my
favorite book, a love story that is never
finished, i keep on reading it till the
wee hours, like a dream cut from the sound
of the heavy rain, cats and dogs,
i keep it there and kiss it all night long
and when i sleep i place it on top of my chest
my heart beating like a drum to a dream:
making love with you is a routine and i
have not heard about my heart complaining
about a deprivation, no more, no more,
there is this phenomenon of being fed-up,
routine that makes a familiarity and arrives
at the conclusion of forgiving and forgetting.
i look at old letters. Your picture in b & w
the photograph of you looks like an old stamp
of a letter that i have no plan sending to you
anymore. Got these tired hands. this scissor
this matchstick, this trash can, and the final
solution. This is the end of pain.
The dispositive portion. No costs.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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