The tender thump of wings
Little bug, little bug
Get out of bed,
Go bother the neighbours
And make that bed.
Little bug, little bug
Rest your head,
And count those blessings
That you're not dead!
Little bug, little bug
Has gone to the moon
When he comes home
He can tidy his room.
Little bug, little bug
All curled up and blue
When he questions,
What to do.
poem by Mark Heathcote
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Little bug…
Little bug, little bug!
Get out of bed
Go bother the neighbour’s…
…And make that bed.
Little bug, little bug!
Rest your head:
And count those blessings…
…That you’re not dead!
Little bug, little bug!
Has gone to the moon…
When he comes home
…He can tidy his room.
Little bug, little bug!
All curled up and blue.
When he questions
…What to do?
poem by Mark Heathcote
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Your Blue Room
Its time to go again
To your blue room
Got some questions to ask of you
In your blue room
The air is clean
Your skin is clear
Ive had enough fun hanging round here
Its a different kind of conversation
Your blue room
Saw me coming
In outside
Saw me coming
Somewhere I can hide
And time is a string of pearls...your blue room
(Im a swinger)
See the future just hanging there...your blue room
A new frame, a new perspective
Looking down on my objectives
Your instructions whatever their directions
Your blue room
Saw me coming
East by the moon
Saw me coming
Can you feel
(its allright)
Your blue room
One day Ill be back...your blue room
Yeah, I hope I remember where its at...your blue room
We see me slide
Wont you give me a home
So much for change
Zooming in
Zooming out
Nothing I cant do without
A lens to see it all up close
Magnifying what no one knows
Never in company
Never alone
No car alarm
No cellular phone
song performed by by U2
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Count Your Blessings
Everyday we should count our blessings,
for everything we have,
for somewhere in the world,
there are those who will never have,
all the things we take for granted.
So count your blessings for all the food you eat,
because somewhere some are starving,
and would give anything to eat.
Therefore, the next time you come home,
and sit in a comfortable chair,
stop for a moment and look around,
and count your blessing for everything you got.
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hope and Light, and Love
You – whose inner strength, I always think
to be the greater than my fluctuating own –
ask, only half humorously, as
business, family support, collapses all around,
for a poem of hope and light and love…
and I fall still and silent; for to me
only stillness, silence, are my answer
to those mighty questions of what within ourselves
we have, and have not; lose and find again…
and in the stillness of the silence, because
I am of ‘certain’ yet uncertain age…
hear the family voice still sounding in the ear of memory
of that sweet Stoicism of the Victorian working class:
…‘working’ indeed; even to the work-house…
and ‘class’; yet class with pride; hope (wasn’t the Baptist chapel
built along with Hope Street?): light; and love…
that Stoicism (would they know the word?)
that folds its hands onto its tidy lap, when
all around collapses, and says quietly,
“It’s trying.. as the good Lord knows,
for he’s tried me oftentimes enough…”
and Sunday starts and ends the week,
the ‘day of rest’ when God and Man
work hardest, and together..
that sweet Stoicism… that responds
to the muted tea-cup whine of others, with
‘We must just count our blessings, dear…’
or break into the mutual relief of song:
‘Count your blessings, one by one’..
and never was the One more to be sought, whose blessings
are only counted, as sleep’s sheep leap
over the stile of thought,
counted one by one; each one blessing, blest,
containing All -
All, and as you said yourself,
Hope; Light; and Love; these three..
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Head Room
Ive never been kissed before
Its been on my list before
A flick of the wrist before would do
But when you get down to it
Its got a good sound to it
Dont meddle around with it
cos its far too wet to woo
When mummy and daddy play
They tell me to go away
But by hanging around
I can learn all the rules
Now I got the technique
Im away
Develop a taste for it
A time and a place for it
Although on the face of it, its a crime
Ive nibbled the cheese of it
The birds and the bees of it
Are weak at the knees
>from making honey
Every time
Im throwing my toys away
Im leaving the boys to play
With the boys
Gimme girls
And its time I was breaking away
Just gimme some head room
Just a little bitta head room
I need some leg room
Just a little bitta leg room
I see myself oh lord
I see a mess
Im making a meal of it
Im breaking the seal of it
Im getting the feel of what to do
Its got a good ring to it
Im getting a thing for it
And if theres a sting in it
Ill have met my waterloo
My mummy and daddy said
Youre liable to wind up dead
Oo, theyve been shooting me a line
Maybe it doesnt exist at all
Oo, Ive been towing the line
Now Im hook line and sinkered
Ive never been kissed before
Its been on my list before
A flick of the wrist before would do
But when you get down to it
Its got a good sound to it
Dont meddle around with it
cos its far too wet to woo
Ive thrown all my toys away
Im leaving the boys to play
With the girls that you get
For a dollar a day
When you pull on their strings they say
Just gimme some head room
Just a little bitta head room
I need a ball room
Up against the wall room
I need the rest oh lord
I need the rest
Just gimme some head room
Just a little bitta head room
Take me to your bed-room
Show a little bitta leg room
I need the rest oh lord
I need the rest
Just gimme some head room
Just a little bitta head room
I need some head room
Just a little bitta head room
I need the rest oh lord
I need the rest
Just gimme some head room
Just a little bitta head room
I need some head room
Just a little bitta head room
I need the rest oh lord
I need the rest
song performed by by 10 Cc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Blue Room, The
We'll have a blue room
A new room for two room
Where ev'ry day's a holiday
Because you're married to me.
Not like a ballroom
A small room, A hall room
Where I can smoke my pipe away
With your wee head upon my knee.
We will thrive on, keep alive on
Just nothing but kisses
With Mister and Missus
On little blue chairs.
You sew your trousseau
And Robinson Crusoe
Is not so far from worldly cares
As our blue room far away upstairs
song performed by by Ella Fitzgerald
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Moon, We Look to You.
Moon, you have a shade of blue tonight –
Is it something that you saw or heard?
Only yesterday, your tone was proud and bright,
Yellow silver, full, and so assured.
Moon, despite the clarity of sky,
Metaphors of cloud that fluff with grey
Drift across your rounded face to spy;
Feeding back, there's awfully much to say.
Moon, you have a role to play up there –
We below must bear the earthly pain.
Duty bound, we shoulder sorrows fair –
You are free from our grotesque disdain.
Moon, we depend on you to shine
When the sun retires down below.
Add to that your grandest role divine:
Tidal Lord, to keep the seas in tow!
Moon, I hope you take to heart our plea –
Needless is the reason for your blue.
Beaming, you should give the night its glee:
We're despairing – so we look to you.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
Moon moon, moon so blue, moon, moon so blue
Moon moon, moon so blue, moon, moon so blue
Moon moon, moon so blue, moon, moon so blue
Moon moon, moon so blue, moon, moon so blue
Moon moon, moon so blue, moon, moon so blue
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Helpless Trust
Curled up on your lap,
you fingers caressing my head,
the comfort of trust,
lulling me to sleep.
Curled up on your lap,
rocking me to sleep,
the sound of your heart,
lulling me to sleep.
Curled up on your lap,
the warmth of your care,
putting my mind to rest,
lulling me to sleep.
Curled up on your lap,
your arms wrapped protectively around me,
a fierce love, burns in my heart,
lulling me to sleep.
Curled up on your lap,
memories of childhood,
flood back,
lulling me to sleep.
Curled up on your lap,
the beating of your heart,
the warmth of your body,
lulling me to sleep.
Curled up on your lap,
like a helpless child,
fiercely protected,
love lulling me to sleep.
Curled up on your lap,
I fall asleep,
like I have done in years past,
your love and care comforting me,
the special bond
shared by a father and a daughter.
burning like fire in my soul.
poem by Shanise Gelaude
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Crash
Lying in bed
Crying your eyes out
Curled in a ball
Nice and tight
Crash today
Seven men died
Seven in a van
One in a car
Bottle of vodka
In the passenger
Seat
Driving unable to maintain
Drifting and veering
Unable to control
Car smash the van
Through the windshield
One goes
Lying on the floor
Others come and
Count dead bodies
One left live in the van
Mind regained and
Awareness received
All is dead
All is dead but you
Later that night
Lying in bed
Crying your eyes out
Curled in a ball
Magnum in hand
Silence has come
Lying in bed
No more crying
Curled in a ball
Lose and feeble
No sound is silent
Eight men died
Today
poem by Tommy D'Attore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sweet Home Alabama
Big wheels keep on turning
Carry me home to see my kin
Singing songs about the Southland
I miss Alabamy once again
And I think its a sin, yes
Well I heard mister Young sing about her
Well, I heard ole Neil put her down
Well, I hope Neil Young will remember
A Southern man don't need him around anyhow
Sweet home Alabama
Where the skies are so blue
Sweet Home Alabama
Lord, I'm coming home to you
In Birmingham they love the gov' nor
Now we all did what we could do
Now Watergate does not bother me
Does your conscience bother you?
Tell the truth
Sweet home Alabama
Where the skies are so blue
Sweet Home Alabama
Lord, I'm coming home to you
Here I come Alabama
Now Muscle Shoals has got the Swampers
And they've been known to pick a song or two
Lord they get me off so much
They pick me up when I'm feeling blue
Now how about you?
Sweet home Alabama
Where the skies are so blue
Sweet Home Alabama
Lord, I'm coming home to you
Sweet home Alabama
Oh sweet home baby
Where the skies are so blue
And the guv'nor's true
Sweet Home Alabama
Lord, I'm coming home to you
song performed by by Jewel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Alone Again In The Lap Of Luxury
(music: marillion lyrics: steve hogarth & john helmer)
See those people there?
They look after me
This is a photograph of who I might be
Man in a uniform ... bride on his arm
Mum always was a fool for money and charm
Hes been talkin in his sleep again
Sayin hes sorry, callin my name
Sayin how hes ashamed ...
Alone again in the lap of luxury
Since it happened I had nothin to say
It used to bother them but now its ok
Mother cleans his dreadful house every day
Scrubbing all the stains that wont go away
They sent me away to the school in the park
They said it would be good for me
I still hear the other kids cry in the dark
Alone again in the lap of luxury
Is there no escape
I dont remember the last time I cried
I dont remember much except lies
See the little girl spirallin down
This is a photograph of who she is now
One day this will all be yours he said
Tidy your room and straight to bed
Tidy up those thoughts in your head
Alone again in the lap of luxury
I could be anywhere right now
If I only had the nerve to leave this house
Maybe somewhere by the sea ...
Take me somewhere, anywhere please!
We could make a pillow of sand and sleep
We could roll
We could make
We could see
We could scream
Far
Father
Farthest
Oh daddy ...
You do not do anymore ...
For gods sake dont pretend to be concerned ...
Turn into nightmares in the end
Throw a party for all my friends
Alone again in the lap of luxury
(I) now wash your hands
You give up hope
You settle down
With your favourite soap ...
Now wash your hands
song performed by by Marillion
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sweeet Home Alabama
Big wheels keep on turning
Carry me home to see my kin
Singing songs about the Southland
I miss Alabamy once again
And I think its a sin, yes
Well I heard mister Young sing about her
Well, I heard ole Neil put her down
Well, I hope Neil Young will remember
A Southern man don't need him around anyhow
Sweet home Alabama
Where the skies are so blue
Sweet Home Alabama
Lord, I'm coming home to you
In Birmingham they love the governor
Now we all did what we could do
Now Watergate does not bother me
Does your conscience bother you?
Tell the truth
Sweet home Alabama
Where the skies are so blue
Sweet Home Alabama
Lord, I'm coming home to you
Here I come Alabama
Now Muscle Shoals has got the Swampers
And they've been known to pick a song or two
Lord they get me off so much
They pick me up when I'm feeling blue
Now how about you?
Sweet home Alabama
Where the skies are so blue
Sweet Home Alabama
Lord, I'm coming home to you
Sweet home Alabama
Oh sweet home baby
Where the skies are so blue
And the governor's true
Sweet Home Alabama
Lordy Lord, I'm coming home to you
Yea, yea Montgomery's got the answer
song performed by by Lynyrd Skynyrd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sweet Home Alabama
(ed king - ronnie vanzant - gary rossington)
Big wheels keep on turning
Carry me home to see my kin
Singing songs about the southland
I miss alabamy once again
And I think its a sin, yes
Well I heard mister young sing about her
Well, I heard ole neil put her down
Well, I hope neil young will remember
A southern man dont need him around anyhow
Sweet home alabama
Where the skies are so blue
Sweet home alabama
Lord, Im coming home to you
In birmingham they love the governor
Now we all did what we could do
Now watergate does not bother me
Does your conscience bother you?
Tell the truth
Sweet home alabama
Where the skies are so blue
Sweet home alabama
Lord, Im coming home to you
Here I come alabama
Now muscle shoals has got the swampers
And theyve been known to pick a song or two
Lord they get me off so much
They pick me up when Im feeling blue
Now how about you?
Sweet home alabama
Where the skies are so blue
Sweet home alabama
Lord, Im coming home to you
Sweet home alabama
Oh sweet home baby
Where the skies are so blue
And the governors true
Sweet home alabama
Lordy
Lord, Im coming home to you
Yea, yea montgomerys got the answer
song performed by by Lynyrd Skynyrd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sweet Home Alabama
(ed king - ronnie vanzant - gary rossington)
Big wheels keep on turning
Carry me home to see my kin
Singing songs about the southland
I miss alabamy once again
And I think its a sin, yes
Well I heard mister young sing about her
Well, I heard ole neil put her down
Well, I hope neil young will remember
A southern man dont need him around anyhow
Sweet home alabama
Where the skies are so blue
Sweet home alabama
Lord, Im coming home to you
In birmingham they love the governor
Now we all did what we could do
Now watergate does not bother me
Does your conscience bother you?
Tell the truth
Sweet home alabama
Where the skies are so blue
Sweet home alabama
Lord, Im coming home to you
Here I come alabama
Now muscle shoals has got the swampers
And theyve been known to pick a song or two
Lord they get me off so much
They pick me up when Im feeling blue
Now how about you?
Sweet home alabama
Where the skies are so blue
Sweet home alabama
Lord, Im coming home to you
Sweet home alabama
Oh sweet home baby
Where the skies are so blue
And the governors true
Sweet home alabama
Lordy
Lord, Im coming home to you
Yea, yea montgomerys got the answer
song performed by by Lynyrd Skynyrd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bother
I feel like I am a bother
Needing someone to care
I feel like I should go on no longer
Just to make this fair
But it seems I've run out of rope
And lost the stomach for pills
It seems I have no hope
To get over these hills
More like mountains I would say
Crawling like an animal on its chest
No peace for the wicked in what they lay
Wallowing in mud not a bit of rest
A dark sky to look up in
Trees grabbing your eyes
What a bother I say again
Into the shadows I die
Shamelessly, you mock
As the sun reaches its crescendo
My head, the hateful words they knock
No hope has yet to show
What a bother I'll say once more
I must stop trying to climb
My body is ever so sore
So I'll make this my last rhyme
poem by Chyna Parker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Aaron
Holiness on the head,
Light and perfection on the breast,
Harmonious bells below, raising the dead
To led them unto life and rest.
Thus are true Aarons dressed.
Profaneness in my head,
Defects and darkness in my breast,
A noise of passions ringing me for dead
Unto a place where is no rest.
Poor priest thus am I dressed.
Only another head
I have, another heart and breast,
another music, making live not dead,
without whom I could have no rest:
In him I am well dressed.
Christ is my only head,
My alone only heart and breast,
My only music, striking me even dead;
That to the old man I may rest,
And be in him new dressed.
So holy in my head,
Perfect and light in my dear breast,
My doctrine tuned by Christ, (who is not dead,
But lives in me while I do rest)
Come people; Aaron's dressed.
poem by George Herbert
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Did It Rain Heavily Last Night?
i fell asleep
deep and
sound like
you i felt
i was dead
did it really rain
heavily last night?
the road is muddy
and i cannot take
a walk this morning
don't bother
i can go barefoot
don't bother
i like the mud
don't bother
i like being dirty
don't bother
the sun dries them all
and the water
at the pump
shall clean them all
don't bother
i am still alive.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Headroom
I need headroom,
Got to have headroom,
Some place to rest my head.
I'm gettin' taller,
Thinkin's gettin' smaller,
Time is winnin' out instead.
Well, I heard it on the news,
They're selling everything they can.
And the American flag
Is manufactured in Japan.
They're fightin' battles in the stars,
They're pourin' billions into Mars.
And layin' right there at my feet,
There're people sleepin' in the street.
Give me room, room, room, room, room, room.
Well, I'm livin' on the farm,
Where chemistry has lost its charm.
And every dusty wind that blows,
Is burnin' big holes in my clothes.
They're burnin' big holes in the sky,
Makin' people wonder why
With all our land and sea and space,
Progress is wreckin' every place.
Give me room, room, room, room, room, room.
Well, if you want an assen-ell,
The government will wish you well,
And if you steal a million bucks,
The government will wish you luck.
And they might even give you more,
If you're makin' things for war.
But if you're poor and stealin' cars,
You'll spend your life behind the bars.
Give me room, room, room, room, room, room.
They're talkin' ethics on the hill,
They're talkin' union at the mill,
They're talkin' justice at the farm,
They're talkin' safety in the car.
They're talkin' murder in the states,
They're talkin' cash to get a fix.
They're talkin' virus in the bed,
I'm talkin' room to rest my head.
Give me room, room, room, room, room, room.
I need headroom,
Got to have headroom,
Some place to rest my head.
song performed by by Don McLean
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Free Gifts Of Love
There will be times
when the few
or the many
will come
to try to take
from us
but we will give
more than these lost souls
try to take
we will give
free gifts of love
it will be God
God will bless us
in this life
or the next
God will bless us
but never forget
God is always with us
God’s blessings
are always upon us
it is not for us
to understand
the blessings
grace of God
but questions
these God
requires of us
to answer questions
questions of life’s choices
to freely choose
to walk with God
throughout eternity
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Through My Head
I have got these questions running through my head
Do you love me
Or should I be dead
Does anyone care
If I die at the fair
Call myself a fool
And go drown in a pool
Would anyone look at me different
If all I did was taunt
Or if I owned a fancy restaurant
Because there are these questions running through my head
Do you love me
Or should I be dead
poem by Matt Burgett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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