The Saloon
The saloon fixed me with its ethanol,
Finding me a pack of cards to destroy
And my life as well.
Salmon and pistols, pastries and bullets
Were working fine for me, like a clock.
But the revolver was positioned in such a talented
Way that I wasted my life once.
Music erupted forming bubbles in the air,
Dams of bright water fulfilled the task.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Related quotes
Sapphire Bullets Of Pure Love
Pistol shots
Gun shots
Pistol shots
Gun shots
Bullets from a revolver
Bullets from a gun
Bullets through the atmosphere
Here they come
John, Ive been bad
And theyre coming after me
Done someone wrong
And I fear that it was me
Sapphire bullets
Bullets of pure love
Sapphire bullets
Bullets of pure love
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Couldn't Afford to Be Lost!
You have not wasted my life,
By finding yours.
I've had this insight.
I had not been waiting for you...
To come 'see' the light.
I've been making mistakes and living life,
While making all types of sacrifices.
No time did I give to wish for the impossible dream.
Every step I take is a challenge.
Do you see any hired bodyguards,
Protecting me from harm?
But around you I have seen delusions,
Fantasies and myths.
And you have no idea how dangerous I think that is!
You have not wasted my life,
By finding yours.
I couldn't afford to be lost!
My identity and dignity I love too much!
I had to be where I was and focused...
At all times.
Since you never were...
You have no clue as to how important that is!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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What is Life
What is life?
Who knows the true definition?
Is life everything that you want you gets?
If life a bowl of gravy and a bucket of biscuits?
Is life just one good time?
What is life?
Life is not knowing exactly what it is you want
Life is wanting to take it away but you can't because you cherish it too much
Life is being confused
Life is at times being angry and wanting to cry
Life is crying for no reason and wondering why
Life is finding love only to have it taken away
Life is allowing your heart to go astray only for it to be broken within a single day
What is life to me?
right now I can't tell
my life is sporadic
up today and down tomorrow
sometimes there's smiles, sometimes there's sorrow
my life is thinking you've got it only to find out that it was never there
my life is stressful for reasons that don't need to be
these reasons I still cannot see
What is life?
Can you tell me?
poem by Monkey Bubbles
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Be Over
It is devious to be relevant on a task,
This task rests with godly men of good measure.
The gods of righteous nature shall presume,
But we strive forwards in life never making sure.
It decided to rest with humanity of death,
Death is a basic natural act of self-indulgence.
The reality of a thought rides along life,
The sleepers of the night have dreamed forever.
The task is set, happy forming itself,
Let the mission be over and all be over.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Deck Of Cards
a deck of cards
missing the Jack of Hearts....
a revolver on the table,
one chamber empty...
an old family Bible,
the inscription page torn out...
a broken pane in the window
that the sun never hits.
a bottle of whiskey,
half empty, or half full.
an old rug by the chair,
that the dog slept on.
a grandfather clock,
hand stuck at midnight...
an old truck, broken axle....
a deck of cards...
your deal!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Music
Music, the sound of loud music just rocks my heart and soul. The feeling is so amazing because the life seems so fulfilled when good music is around. Bright and complete I become. Everything is so perfect when I hear a cool song. Music, it is music. Ultimate feeling can be recieved through loud and lovely music. Listen and feel the rhythm with your heart so that it can touch the soul. Music, loud music.
poem by Rohit Sapra
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A Gun
A revolver has been blasted and cried for its purpose,
Bullets are boosted into the super still sky, how disastrous!
The guns commit selfish acts due on the day they conceive,
Then they beget and discuss another life, another day to achieve.
A gun is common among the young and dangerous
For they disbelieve in nightmare and dreams: apparatus.
Your gun is safe but thieves perform a stampede
On the young at living, the very youth, the canopied.
When it blasted your hair, it considered a target
On the other side, a man must live by a century
And he is me, the very one who stamped a bullet
In the heart of his enemy, the gods are with ability.
I can not fetch the revolver or the gun,
It is generous I believe, the gun is to be begun.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Grandpa's Clock
in that ticking of the clock
three generations of time
had ticked past...
with some tickings fixed firm
each ticking concealed
tireless roar of the sea
and a conundrum of emotions
time has its way of
teasing and tiring us
one fine evening during
a casual chitchat as sister
got off from the chair
she hit back at time and
the grandfather's clock-
though i had never known him
but through the clock fixed to the wall-
that seemed to chime
eternally into the wee hours
each time waking me up cruelly
from an innocent sleep
lay there in pieces...
the pendulum, still oscillates
the conundrum, still unsolved
the flux of the sea, still echoes
though we could never manage
to get another clock
and external surfaces
still gleam and glitter...
20dec2009
08.21hrs
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Thats When I Reach For My Revolver
Once I had my heroes
Once I had my dreams
But all of that is changed now
The truth begins again
The truth is not that comfortable, no
Mother taught us patience
The virtues of restraint
Father taught us boundaries
The knowledge we must go
Im trying to protect my unity
Thats when I reach for my revolver
Thats when it all gets blown away
Thats when I reach for my revolver
The spirit passes by this way
A friend of mine once told me
His one and only aim
To build a giant castle
And in it sign his name
Sign it with complete community
Thats when I reach for my revolver
Thats when it all gets blown away
Thats when I reach for my revolver
The spirit passes by this way
Now that the sky is empty
And that is nothing new
Instead they look upon us
When they tell me
That were nothing
I say!
Thats when I reach for my revolver
Thats when it all gets blown away
Thats when I reach for my revolver
The spirit passes by this way
Thats when I reach for my revolver
Thats when it all gets blown away
Thats when I reach for my revolver
The spirit passes by this way
song performed by by Moby
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There Are Those So Talented
There are those so talented
They inspire us-
So talented
We cannot understand how they manage to do what they do-
So talented
They bring us to a feeling of what a wonder and greatness the human being is -
So talented
They bring our souls to somewhere else beyond our loneliness and fears-
So talented
We wish to thank them –
So talented we feel
Humanity however only Human
Created in the Divine Image also.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Water Closet
We are in the water closet
adjacent perpendicular mirrors
you sink ninety degrees on vertical
teeth brushing body bent axis horizontal
Mmmhhhh...
yes
oral hygiene stimulate arousal cleansing
You are bending brushing bristling
backside tattoo target inviting
I behind you lust limb salivating
stalk to sweep fine bristles beating
scrubbing swaying brushing
I sweep swayed toward for following
Your call mating instincts answer
spring pounce prey posterior
as I the deviant disciplinarian to wallop
my wonderful water closet trollop
How I so delight sight anticpatory
you bracing administration's imagining
whoop-wallop deviant deliciously
spontaneous training demented delivery
Pack! Pa-pack!
Pa-pack -a- pack PACT! !
Such a sweetest slapping rapping
Pa-pack! Pa-pack!
Pa-pack -a- pack PACT! !
Over the sink we are synching
gasping grinding sighing singing
punishing pummeling scrubbing stinging
squirming stealing squealings
Pa-pack! Pa-pack!
Pa-pack -a- pack PACT! !
Our eyes are fixed to mirror's pivot
gyro reflecting rocking reflex
Pa-pack! Pa-pack!
Pa-pack -a- pack PACT! !
Numb as our mouths' my hand toothbrushings'
friction bristling frenetic brush bumping
Pa-pack! Pa-pack!
Pa-pack -a- pack PACT! !
Your back buttocks beauteous bending
knee knock belligerent buckling
Pa-pack! Pa-pack!
Pa-pack -a- pack PACT! !
You ride me stride desultory commanding
Pa-pack! Pa-pack!
Pa-pack -a- pack PACT! !
Our mouths froth delicious furious foaming
Pa-pack! Pa-pack!
Pa-pack -a- pack PACT! !
We spit fit delirious demented
delightful delicious expectorate
Pa-pack! Pa-pack!
Pa-pack -a- pack PACT! !
Furious rinse ripe infuriate flouridic
panting pasty milken manic
manna expelling cleansing frantic
Pa-pack! Pa-pack!
Pa-pack -a- pack
MMMmmmm... caressing...
Our strings sing for seconds' flossing
copyright Randy Resh 2008
poem by Randy Resh
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Fish And Shadow
The salmon-trout drifts in the stream,
The soul of the salmon-trout floats over the stream
Like a little wafer of light.
The salmon moves in the sun-shot, bright shallow sea. . . .
As light as the shadow of the fish
that falls through the water,
She came into the large room by the stair,
Yawning a little she came with the sleep still upon her.
'I am just from bed. The sleep is still in my eyes.
'Come. I have had a long dream.'
And I: That wood?
'And two springs have passed us.'
'Not so far, no, not so far now,
There is a place but no one else knows it
A field in a valley . . .
Qu'ieu sui avinen,
Ieu lo sai,'
She must speak of the time
Of Arnaut de Mareuil, I thought, 'qu'ieu sui avinen.’
Light as the shadow of the fish
That falls through the pale green water.
poem by Ezra Pound
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Twa Sisters O' Binnorie
There were twa sisters sat in a bow'r;
(Binnorie, O Binnorie!)
A knight cam' there, a noble wooer,
By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie.
He courted the eldest wi' glove and ring,
(Binnorie, O Binnorie!)
But he lo'ed the youngest aboon a' thing,
By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie.
The eldest she was vexed sair,
(Binnorie, O Binnorie!)
And sair envìed her sister fair,
By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie.
Upon a morning fair and clear,
(Binnorie, O Binnorie !)
She cried upon her sister dear,
By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie.
`O sister, sister, tak' my hand,'
(Binnorie, O Binnorie!)
`And let's go down to the river-strand,'
By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie.
She's ta'en her by the lily hand,
(Binnorie, O Binnorie!)
And down they went to the river-strand
By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie.
The youngest stood upon a stane,
(Binnorie, O Binnorie!)
The eldest cam' and pushed her in,
By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie.
'O sister, sister, reach your hand!'
(Binnorie, O Binnorie!)
'And ye sall be heir o' half my land'--
By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie.
'O sister, reach me but your glove!'
(Binnorie, O Binnorie!)
'And sweet William sall be your love'--
By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie.
Sometimes she sank, sometimes she swam,
(Binnorie, O Binnorie!)
Till she cam' to the mouth o' yon mill-dam,
By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie
Out then cam' the miller's son
(Binnorie, O Binnorie!)
And saw the fair maid swimmin' in,
By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie.
'O father, father, draw your dam!'
(Binnorie, O Binnorie!)
'There's either a mermaid or a swan,'
By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie.
The miller quickly drew the dam,
(Binnorie, O Binnorie!)
And there he found a drown'd womàn,
By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie.
Round about her middle sma'
(Binnorie, O Binnorie!)
There went a gouden girdle bra'
By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie.
All amang her yellow hair
(Binnorie, O Binnorie!)
A string o' pearls was twisted rare,
By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie.
On her fingers lily-white,
(Binnorie, O Binnorie!)
The jewel-rings were shining bright,
By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie.
And by there cam' a harper fine,
(Binnorie, O Binnorie!)
Harpèd to nobles when they dine,
By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie.
And when he looked that lady on,
(Binnorie, O Binnorie!)
He sigh'd and made a heavy moan,
By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie.
He's ta'en three locks o' her yellow hair,
(Binnorie, O Binnorie!)
And wi' them strung his harp sae rare,
By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie.
He went into her father's hall,
(Binnorie, O Binnorie!)
And played his harp before them all,
By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie.
And sune the harp sang loud and clear,
(Binnorie, O Binnorie!)
`Fareweel, my father and mither dear!'
By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie.
And neist when the harp began to sing,
(Binnorie, O Binnorie!)
'Twas 'Fareweel, sweetheart!' said the string,
By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie.
And then as plain as plain could be,
(Binnorie, O Binnorie!)
'There sits my sister wha drownèd me!
By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie.'
poem by Anonymous Americas
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Life Is
life is cricket
I bat on the pitch
everyone else in the field
trying to out me
life is road
goes to a destination
that is unknown
life is ape
always dances
jumps from one
to other branches
life is music
sings the melody
of incidents and
stories
life is wheel
it rolls and rolls
until gets the slope
life is a castle
live in and struggle
the instincts
and emotions
life is water
flows in river of time
sometimes smooth
strikes to rocks sometimes
life is web
strangled within
virtual and real
the net knitted
life is clock
which never stops
doing tick tick always
whatever weather comes
life is truth
we have to accept
we have to live
the way it is set
poem by S.D. Tiwari
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Finding Life
Finding life, Finding truth, Finding wisdom, fighting through, Finding life, find your soul, found yourself, powers tough. Inside you see, around you see, you can see what life can be. You will find the truth of life. Learn to live, enjoy life, find your soul, and find your life. Once you know you are gonna die, life will be hard, life will be high. But once you know, once you will be free.
poem by Innocent Angel
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A Brief Note On Marriage!
Flute music is coming when I am writing this poem;
The sweet music is being rendered by a flute vendor!
Flute music reminds all of the hero of Bhagavad-Gita
Who proposed the policy of nonattachment in life!
Marriages are fixed in heaven many say since long time
But why are some going for divorces after the marriage?
Love or arranged marriages should be based on love;
But too much attachment finding faults ends in divorces!
Nothing is perfect in the world let alone love and marriage;
What is more important is love to be cherished as humans
So that relations would last longer making happier life here;
Critically seeing differences one cannot find peace of mind.
Bond of marriages is supposed to last till the end of life
But not to suffer by marriages till the end of life in the world!
poem by Ramesh T A
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Just Behind The Clock
an old man sits alone in a chair,
with a revolver and a book.
thinking about children gone,
and branches that diverged.
thinking about women lost,
in the aisles of churches, and department stores.
thinking about hours burned,
under the hot lamp of striving.
scratching his name on the cover of the book,
he closed his eyes to dream.
yet somehow couldnt get rid of the taste
of children's pajamas,
the smell of the perfume
of kitchens...
and the light in those eyes
he never noticed before,
that he was always too busy to tend...
the clock struck three as he drifted off,
and the revolver fell to the floor.
war ribbons hung on his wedding picture,
just behind the clock!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Leaping Salmon
I will not dream another's sweet musings
when the truth is only partly known
the fruit is so sweet but of another knowledge
but face my own full on
naked in the darkness
and recognise that which has never been shown before
and dream it as my own
I will not share you with another
I cannot
for their knowledge would lack the spice of experience
I am the silver salmon driving out of the peat black water into the
daylight
Rising rising
timeless and heavy
Falling backwards into the darkness
I am inside you rising up through the water feeling the water rush past
my
flanks
light flickers above
Searching for the head waters
They are there. I smell them
Peatiness all round
I hold your flanks
Pass my hands to your front, beneath your gills
fingers just apart
sensing your power running past my fingers
Silver water running through my fingers
Pass my hands down your sides
Sense the water passing over my skin
Surges rising up
geysers of water silver spume
The salmon rises
My beautiful salmon, you rise and explode gasping in the electric air
showers of jewels tremble in the sunlight
the sound of a thousand water falls
The pinky darkness of your open mouth
catching the irresdecent droplets
Your flanks tremble in the sun
and fall
back into the enveloping water
bubbles rise
Dark fish sinks into the velvet darkness
Still Still Swish Still
Held like a chalice
poem by Anthony Dalby
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Working At The Factory
All my life I've been a workin' man
When I was at school they said that's all you'll ever understand
No profession. I didn't figure in their plans
So they sent me down factory to be a workin' man
All I lived for, All I lived for
All I lived for was to get out of the factory
Now I'm here seemingly free, but working at the factory.
The music came along and gave new life to me
And gave me hope back in 1983
The music came and set me free
From working at the factory
All I lived for, All I lived for
All I lived for was to get out of the factory
All I lived for, All I lived for
All I lived for was to get out of the factory
Never wanted to be like everybody else
But now there are so many like me sitting on the shelf
They sold us a dream but in reality
It was just another factory
I made the music , thought that was mine
It made me free , but that was in another time
But then the corporations and the big combines
Turned musicians into factory workers on assembly lines.
All I lived for, All I lived for
All I lived for was to get out of the factory
We made the music to set ourselves free
From working at the factory.
All my life I've put in a working day
Now it's sign the contract. Get production on the way
Take the money, make the music pay
Working at the factory
All I lived for was to get out of the factory.
Never wanted to be like everybody else
But now there are so many like me sitting on the shelf
They sold us a dream but in reality
Was just another factory
Working at the factory.
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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An Incantation
Come with me, and we will blow
Lots of bubbles, as we go;
Bubbles bright as ever Hope
Drew from fancy -- or from soap;
Bright as e'er the South Sea sent
from its frothy element!
Come with me, and we will blow
Lots of bubbles, as we go.
Mix the lather, Johnny W--lks,
Thou, who rhym'st so well to bilks;
Mix the lather - who can be
Fitter for such task than thee,
Great M.P. for Sudsbury!
For the frothy charm is ripe,
Puffing Peter bring thy pipe, --
Thou, whom ancient Coventry,
Once so dearly lov'd, that she
Knew not which to her was sweeter,
Peeping Tom or Puffing Peter; --
Puff the bubbles high in air,
Puff thy best to keep them there.
Bravo, bravo, Peter M--re!
Now the rainbow humbugs soar,
Glitt'ring all with golden hues,
Such as haunt the dreams of Jews; --
Some reflecting mines that lie
Under Chili's glowing sky,
Some, those virgin pearls that sleep
Cloister'd in the southern deep;
Others, as if lent a ray
Form the streaming Milky Way,
Glist'ning o'er with curds and whey
From the cows of Alderney.
Now's the moment -- who shall first
Catch the buble, ere they burst?
Run, ye Squires, ye Viscounts, run,
Br-gd-n, T-ynh-m, P-lm-t-n; --
John W--lks junior runs beside ye!
Take the good the knaves provide ye!
See, with upturn'd eyes and hands,
Where the Shareman, Bri-gd-n, stands,
Gaping for the froth to fall
Down his gullet - lye and all.
See!---But hark my time is out --
Now, like some great water-spout,
Scaterr'd by the cannon's thunder,
Burst, ye bubbles, burst asunder!
poem by Thomas Moore
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