0194 At last
At last I’m old enough
old enough not to be
embarrassed when
it happens
it can be when
some athlete stands
and mouths the words of
their national anthem
as the flag waves
or a young musician
makes their first, fresh
debut playing some
often played classic
as if it had never
been played before
or a cloud passes and
the sunlight reaches into
the room and says
look at this crystal vase,
look at this flower
look at this dewdrop
or someone who was anyone
a moment ago
smiles
oh so many so little big things and
my chest heaves, shudders,
and my heart not my eyes
is shaking with tears which
cannot be explained but
only recognised for
whence they come
beyond tears
at last I’m old enough
not to be embarrassed
by this joy
though
I make the excuse
to go into another room
in case
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Related quotes
Whose tears?
I don’t cry. Not
floods of tears cry.
The eyes moisten, but,
It’s the rest of it…:
the chest heaves unsuppressibly, as if
it would leap out from the body's confines...
it’s all beyond control;
‘sob’ isn’t the right word
because it’s all silent.
It never used to be like this;
now – well, I’m too embarrassed
to tell you everything
that sets it off.. just think ‘sentimental’…
except that it’s quite without those personal thoughts
like, what a cute puppy,
I can feel for her,
how I’d be proud to be him right now…
athletes of any sport or any nation
ascending the podium while
their strange national anthem plays…
and it’s a sure bet;
anyone who fulfils themselves,
achieves something which
makes them clearly proud…
triumph over adversity, over handicap;
the Paralympics - have you noticed,
they're the most quietly satisfied of winners?
the shining eye of
someone who's given from the heart...
or someone who's received that gift...
sometimes the perfection of
a sung phrase, its subtle timing,
the emotion kernelled in a single note…
the first notes of those hymns they sing
when heroes finally are laid to rest…
or a convincing love story –
no, I won’t give you the names –
or a moment of some unexpected truth
which speaks of something far beyond…
even a silence, an unfocussed presence
that holds some revelation yet
unformulated; only recognised..
I have this strange, beloved stranger
in my shaking chest,
a law unto itself, which doesn’t
ask for my consent before
the convulsions start…
in a way, it’s quite reassuring:
something within me, announcing
its independent life;
something capable of being stirred;
and when it stops its heaving,
here’s the best part: then, it’s gone –
no thought to smear the mind,
no mood to coddle or indulge..
it came; it went; so pure, so clean;
best to give it no attention,
let it live its life without my interference;
it’s asking nothing of me but
to love its freedom; watch it be itself.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Embarrassed?
You seem to have no problem,
Admitting those things you've done.
Even those things not socially accepted,
Others in a similar position...
Would try to hide or lie about them to run.
But you...?
You almost seem to brag,
About those things that shock and stun.
Why is this?
People today expect remorse shown.
At least some sign of embarrassment.
But you...?
You want it known what you've done,
With an emphasis in expressed sentiments.
'Embarrassed?
Are you kidding?
Why should I be embarrassed,
To experience and adventure?
I've been blessed with life,
To explore and discover...
Those things for me that are right.
The walking on water to prove I can do miracles,
Has already been done by the Chosen One.
And IF I am going to be doing any walking on water,
It will be frozen to be witnessed by at least someone.
Embarrassed?
Are you kidding?
And I am certaily over qualified to run for politics.
I do not lie or deceive or pretend to do magic tricks.
Or use religion...
To deny my sins committed.
With a doing them over again...
To dilute a forgiveness to me that had been given.
Embarrassed?
You make me laugh.
You see those people over there,
Hanging their heads down in despair?
They are the ones embarrassed!
Not me.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Rolling In The Deep
There's a fire starting in my heart
Reaching a fever pitch, it's bringing me out
the dark
Finally I can see you crystal clear
Go 'head and sell me out and I'll lay your
ship [shit] bare
See how I leave with every piece of you
Don't underestimate the things that I will
do
There's a fire starting in my heart
Reaching a fever pitch
And it's bringing me out the dark
The scars of your love remind me of us
They keep me thinking that we almost had
it all
The scars of your love, they leave me
breathless
I can't help feeling
We could have had it all
(You're gonna wish you never had met me)
Rolling in the deep
(Tears are gonna fall, rolling in the deep)
You had my heart inside of your hand
(You're gonna wish you never had met me)
And you played it, to the beat
(Tears are gonna fall, rolling in the deep)
Baby, I have no story to be told
But I've heard one on you
And I'm gonna make your head burn
Think of me in the depths of your despair
Make a home down there
As mine sure won't be shared
(You're gonna wish you never had met me)
The scars of your love remind me of us
(Tears are gonna fall, rolling in the deep)
They keep me thinking that we almost had
it all
(You're gonna wish you never had met me)
The scars of your love, they leave me
breathless
(Tears are gonna fall, rolling in the deep)
I can't help feeling
We could have had it all
(You're gonna wish you never had met me)
Rolling in the deep
(Tears are gonna fall, rolling in the deep)
You had my heart inside of your hand
(You're gonna wish you never had met me)
And you played it, to the beat
(Tears are gonna fall, rolling in the deep)
We could have had it all
Rolling in the deep
You had my heart inside of your hand
But you played it, with a beating
Throw your soul through every open door
You'll pay me back in kind and reap just
what you sow (woah)
(You're gonna wish you never had met me)
We could have had it all
(Tears are gonna fall, rolling in the deep)
We could have had it all
(You're gonna wish you never had met me)
It all, it all, it all
(Tears are gonna fall, rolling in the deep)
We could have had it all
(You're gonna wish you never had met me)
Rolling in the deep
(Tears are gonna fall, rolling in the deep)
You had my heart inside of your hand
(You're gonna wish you never had met me)
And you played it to the beat
(Tears are gonna fall, rolling in the deep)
We could have had it all
(You're gonna wish you never had met me)
Rolling in the deep
(Tears are gonna fall, rolling in the deep)
You had my heart inside of your hand
(You're gonna wish you never had met me)
But you played it
You played it
You played it
You played it to the beat.
poem by Pawan Kumar 'Meonlafesta'
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Salesmanship, With Half A Dram Of Tears
Gripping the lectern, rocking it, searching
the faces for the souls, for signs of heartfelt
mindfulness at work, I thought, as I recited
words I wrote in tears: instead of tears,
if I had understood my father's business,
I could be selling men's clothes. I could be
kneeling, complimenting someone at the bay
of mirrors, mumblingly, with pinpoints pressed
between my lips. That was the life I held
in scorn while young, because I thought to live
without distraction, using words. Yet, looking
now into the room of strangers' eyes, I wanted
them to feel what I said touch, as palpably
as when a men in double worsted felt
the cuff drop to his wrist. There was a rush
in the applause of gratitude and mercy:
they could go. A teenager, embarrassed
for himself and me, lefthandedly
squeezed my fingers, and said thanks.
Anonymous submission.
poem by Brooks Haxton
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0068 The Connoisseur (2)
Is there a god
sleeping in this room?
even the doorhandle, gently turned,
seems to speak a message
before the room entered, the first breath taken
of the room’s own air
and on the table, the grey-green vase seems
to be the host; the silent messenger: the furniture
somehow eternal in its order; every line and curve
within the room speaking of some
divine geometry; the shaded sunlight seems
to fall on tiptoe, touch in silent praise;
the air, to be refined; and the silence –
what does the silence say unspoken
as if it holds some god-smiled word,
some solemn laughter, about what
is there and is not there, has made
of this room, this ordinary room,
a shrine where one can worship without form
oneself?
the vase too holds itself both
open and reserved; its perfect curves
the subtle decisions of a history
of centuries, of generations
of human hands; of things made
for oneself, for others, for all else
where all else is known;
silent the vase; the room full of its sound.
Is there a god
sleeping in this room?
you; moving forward with respectful quiet step
to touch this grey-green
Chinese vase
poem by Michael Shepherd
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You've Enjoyed
I thought you would stay as dumb as possible?
Where has this test failed?
There is no one else left,
To depict low life and ignorance AND incompetence,
Except...?
Well...
I thought you would stay as dumb as possible?
There is no where else to turn.
To seek a replacement.
Except...?
I thought you would stay as dumb as possible?
Everything to keep your intelligence unnoticed,
We thought had been done.
Tell me...
I mean 'us',
Tell us more embarrassing things about yourself.
Something tells me...
You have not been embarrassed at all.
Your eyes begin to 'twinkle'...
Each time you are sought to reveal some 'dirt'.
Have you done this on purpose?
Believing we would think you to be embarrassed?
In fact...
You've enjoyed every moment of being depicted like that!
Haven't you?
You have...
Haven't you?
Knowing we would find,
That the being embarrassed...
Does nothing to your cost of expense.
Does it?
Why don't you answer me?
'Oh!
So NOW you want to know what my thoughts are?
And who pays me for this admission?
You?
Or 'we'? ...or both? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Cocoon (Illusions)
illusions...
sand blown by the wind....
the reflection of fire
on the coldest of nights;
the cry of the empty rice bowl.
the violin played in an empty room.
sunlight glaring off fresh fallen snow.
the axe and the boots
standing alone in a corner...
the ticket takers through a glass window....
oil pumping into the mouths
of starving children....
the exploding bombs, bayonets
draped in bright colored flags.
the moment you give,
as if by accident;
and then steal away,
wrapped tight in your cocoon!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Prefer to feel embarrassed and forward you go
It’s an embarrassing situation for you
When you are caught unawares
Of having done a thing
Or having spelt out a thing
Which you should not have
Done or spoken
You, of course, have the choice
To feel embarrassed or not
People of lower orders normally choose
Not to feel so
While people on the path of improvement
Choose to feel embarrassed
For they see opportunities
In such situations
You might have acted so
Or spoken so because
You were not aware that
You were not supposed to do so
In this case
You will come over the situation
Pleading ignorance or innocence
At the same time
In private, you feel relieved
Having learnt a lesson
And come to know a new set of rules
There is also a chance that
You might have acted so
Or spoken so
Having taken a conscious decision
Even though there is deviation from norms
And at the same time
Thinking that no one will come to know of it
Here, you make attempts to cover up
Coming out with reasons
For having done or spoken so
If you have the mind to examine,
You will come to realise
That by feeling embarrassed
Either you learnt something new
And are clear of your roles and responsibilities
Or you discover new ways of
Doing or communicating
Despite its non-conformance to
Existing rules and norms
There is also a possibility
That the rules get revised
And your ways become the norms
More often than not,
We do not do things or speak out
In an attempt to avoid
An embarrassing situation
And thus miss possible
Opportunities for improvement
So, act and express
And if in a discomforting moment
Prefer to feel embarrassed
And forward you go
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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I Am Tired
and i imagine her
laughing
as though
she is sure of herself
as she removes the
patches
covering her eyes
and she tells me
that i am embarrassed
or that i must be
embarrassed at the end
she is the woman
so sure of herself
when she wakes up
everyone has left her
for good and they
are not coming back anymore
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I Hear Her Playing Music
I hear her playing music
In her room alone at night
She just moved in a month ago
She isn't gonna play the game
I though she'd smile
And come on slow
I still don't even know her name
She must like being lonely
Got no time for anyone
But I hear her play that stereo
Right through to the rising sun
I hear her playing music
In her room alone all night
Through the day she's so elusive
Staying safe and out of sight
If you say hello she lets it go
Cool and so polite
And I hear her playing music
In her room alone at night
Baby are you sad and lonely
Or did somebody do you wrong
'Cause I know that you need only
Look my way
And they'll play our song
And I love your nightly music
But you can't keep playing through
'Cause I'm having trouble sleeping
And when I do I dream of you
I thought I'd try and break the freeze
And win her heart with harmony
So I answered back
And played a stack of my favorite CD's
But she just doesn't hear me
Doesn't have a word to say
So I stay awake and turn it up
Hoping she'll look out my way
I hear her playing music
In her room alone at night
Through the day she's so elusive
Staying safe and out of sight
If you say hello she lets it go
Cool and so polite
And I hear her playing Dave Koz
In her room alone at night
In her room alone at night
Baby are you sad and lonely
Baby won't you tell me your name
I'm in my room alone at night
You're in your room alone at night
song performed by by Barry Manilow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Victor Should Have Been A Jazz Musician
I went to a concert, to see nina, simone,
The concert was over, there was still a band playing, the rap up,
The booguh played with his hands, I close my eyes, and look at him,
Victor should have been a jazz musician,
I said to myself, victor should have been a jazz musician,
I looked at his face, and I saw victor, looked at his smile, and I saw victor,
I looked at his hair, and thought,
Victor should have been a jazz musician,
Victor should have been a jazz musician,
And the people dancing on the floor, dancing on the floor, were so high,
You should have seen victor smile, you should have seen victor smile,
As they danced all the while all around on the floor, and he laughed,
Victor should have been a jazz musician,
Oh, victor should have been a jazz musician,
He was playing so nice, the jazz musician,
Ah, ah,
Hes living in a fast beat, in a city thats hot,
Telling all the latinos and puerto ricans, victor seems happy, but he doesnt even know himself, hes gotta look inside to know his first love,
Victor was a jazz musician, he was playing so nice, victor was a jazz musician, (? ) victor was a jazz musician,
Victor loves his music, he loves his music, somewhere, he plays his music, somewhere,
Victor is a jazz musician,
Jazz.
song performed by by Grace Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My friends never talk to me about my poetry because they're embarrassed that I write it or they're embarrassed by what I write about which are not such extraordinarily terrifying things, but they are the state of human existence.
quote by Peter Davison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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And The Band Played On
Sweetest angel came down
Took me by the hand
Said Ive got things to offer you
Help you understand
If the bombs dont get you
Ill roll with you tonight
All these things inside your head
Youve got to get it right
And the band played on
Spirits of the city
Were calling out my name
When jealous guys break down and cry
They got themselves to blame
If the bombs dont get you
Take courage in the night
All those dreams inside your head
Youve got to get it right
Still the band played on
And the band played on
The room was getting hotter
And someone hit the light
There was power in the darkness
There was violence in the night
And the golden sons and daughters
They were coming up for air
You were standing with your back to me
And a halo round your hair
And the questions there were many
Like how can you survive
When its the moment
Youve been waiting for
This is the moment of your life
So every dreamer pass me by
With a fix me jesus stare in his eyes
I was born to live
I was born to die
With the queen of soul
And the king of light
All the power in the land
Pull me through to the shadowland
I was driven by some hidden hand
Its the greatest gift of all
And the band played on
Shake the ghost within you
Get up, meet up, the rising sun
Cos the old days theyre the dying days
And the new days just begun
At the end of every party
Hear the singer sing his song
May his heart stay young forever
And the dream still lingers on
I want to die
I want to live again
I want to keep on keeping on
They say a coward dies a thousand times
But the brave they die just once
So walk to me, talk to me
Hold me now spectre of love
Theres a coolness under fire
And a universal love
And the band played on
Played on, played on
Written by : kerr/burchill reproduced without permission
song performed by by Simple Minds
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dreadful Tears
Rolling down from eyes tears,
Twisted with sorrow and bliss,
Hunt words to words to kiss,
Lines to lines to create verse,
Heart gently transposes tears to eyes,
And melting sorrow and bliss like an ice,
Crystal transparent tears in eyes screen,
Betwixt sorrow and bliss shed, fade tears
Tears shares and contribute an hour…
When ever sorrow and bliss occur …
Innocent heart showers, emotion tears,
Departing and meeting tale, tears bears
Tears true friend of loneliness, never withers,
When ever there is pain and bliss always shares,
Tears inside eyes with emotion thread weave…
Delicate and tender, fragile like spider web
poem by Rose Rosado
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The Music Exam
I sit outside the exam room, waiting, patiently, for my turn;
Anxiety has, long since, set in, and my stomach is all a-churn.
These music exams, have always been really rather formal,
So, I guess, to get this nervous, is just completely normal.
I enter the exam room, and, having warmed up, I start,
But, all too soon, things, very slightly, begin to fall apart.
For this moment, in my life, I have, relentlessly, rehearsed;
Of the times, I’ve played this piece; this is, by far, the worst.
I’m unable to stop my two hands from, literally, shaking,
And I’m feeling annoyed at the mistakes, I’m now making.
At home, I’ve played this piece, hundreds of times before,
But my fingers just don’t seem to want to work any more.
At my mistakes, I’m now feeling really rather frustrated,
And deep inside, my spirit is now, somewhat, deflated.
At home, feeling relaxed, I played these pieces just fine;
Now my fingers, no longer feel as though they are even mine.
Next up, the examiner asks me to play some scales and chords;
To make too many errors, in this section, I can very ill afford.
But, I hardly falter, and I get all of them, pretty much, right;
I feel extremely relieved, and the end of the exam is in sight.
Finally, I’m presented with a short piece of sight reading;
‘Nothing too difficult’ – in my mind, I’m, silently, pleading.
The examiner thanks me for coming, and I am now free to go.
How well I did, I now have to wait a few more weeks, to know.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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Tears & Fire
Blue is the tears in my eyes
Red is the fire in my heart
The fire will never die out
The fire in my heart is what keeps me alive
The tears in my eyes is what makes me die.
If i could control the tears in my eyes
The flames in my heart I would
My heart is like a hell
I am caged inside
I can't escape my self, there is still rage inside my heart
The tears are my hopes and dreams fading away
They are my strength
They are my thoughts that keep me from dying
The flames in my heart are the pain and guilt that builds up inside
poem by Crystal Woods
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Behind the Tears
oh! great admiration possess the vantage
fruit of my command; the sweet prize
loudly speak of your victory whether day
or night you hold my tears away from
shame, as it tainted my reveal face every
time the tears fall to the ground
welcome my funny moment, where every
eyes cease no one, like crystal pebble
of tears has turn me off away far from any
misery, where I have sung the mystery of
being one with you
look back of the unspoken words, the hills,
can’t fathom the whispering wind of the
mountain call, for only the bird that swing
above the cloud bless on the sky
… for every tears dropp that falls, the lips
whisper the joy of your call…..
poem by Antonio Liao
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I know you are going to be embarrassed. We're all embarrassed by it, but to hide the embarrassment... silence has never protected women or helped them. We need to talk about it more with our, you know - whoever - our friends, our family.
quote by Cybill Shepherd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Teardrops Will Fall
I read your letter, darlin'
Tears filled my eyes
All of the promises you made were nothing but lies
So I turned your photograph around face to the wall
And when I dim the lights in my room tonight
Teardrops will fall
Teardrops will fall tonight
Tears I can't hide
Tears that I'd rather keep
Deep down inside
Tears fall
And love is gone beyond these walls
And when I dim the lights in my room tonight
Teardrops will fall
I'm gonna pray tonight, baby
Hopin' you will hear
And maybe you'll write all those wrongs
And dry each tear
I sit alone tonight
Hopin' you will call
And when I dim the lights in my room tonight
Teardrops will fall
Teardrops will fall tonight
Tears I can't hide
Tears that I'd rather keep
Deep down inside
Tears fall
And love is gone beyond these walls
And when I dim the lights in my room tonight
Teardrops will fall
Teardrops will fall tonight
Tears I can't hide
Tears that I'd rather keep
Deep down inside
Tears fall
And love is gone beyond these walls
And when I dim the lights in my room tonight
When I dim the lights in my room tonight
Teardrops will fall
song performed by by John Mellencamp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On this day of Spring Original by Rabindranath Tagore
So many flowers bloom
On this day of Spring
So many flutes are played
So many birds sing
On this day of Spring
On this day of Spring
My friend's heart is as soft
As a little flower
Whose negligence makes it
So terribly suffer
Why do you come to her
And try to make her laugh
The one who used to come
Now doesn't care enough
So many flowers bloom
On this day of Spring
So many flutes are played
So many birds sing
On this day of Spring
On this day of Spring
God please keep the happy
People always happy
And let the Spring season
Of joy pass by smoothly
God don't let the happy
People see her in tears
Since they overlook her
And want to live in cheers
So many flowers bloom
On this day of Spring
So many flutes are played
So many birds sing
On this day of Spring
On this day of Spring
poem by Asif Andalib
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