How Long Is Her Hair In A Projection Room? Statistical And Fractional Dimension
In the bathroom
Silky steam falls away
Naked
Mauve and strawberry blonde
On the tiled floor
In your window
The sunbeam song gleams
On the bedside table
An untitled paperback
A tale from Patmos
For an afternoon between orange trees
The loan of a bike is heaven
In your life
(Thanks to Ólöf Pétursdóttir) .
poem by Nicolas Grenier
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Paperback Writer
(LennonMcCartney)
Paperback writer
Dear Sir or Madam, will you read my book?
It took me years to write, will you take a look?
It's based on a novel by a man named Lear
And I need a job, so I want to be a paperback writer
Paperback writer
It's the dirty story of a dirty man
And his clinging wife doesn't understand
His son is working for the Daily Mail
It's a steady job but he wants to be a paperback writer
Paperback writer
Paperback writer
It's a thousand pages, give or take a few
I'll be writing more in a week or two
I can make it longer if you like the style
I can change it round and I want to be a paperback writer
Paperback writer
If you really like it you can have the rights
It could make a million for you overnight
If you must return it, you can send it here
But I need a break and I want to be a paperback writer
Paperback writer
Paperback writer
Paperback writer, paperback writer
Paperback writer, paperback writer
Paperback writer, paperback writer
Paperback writer, paperback writer (fade out)
song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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New World Order: Realities Of Culture, Media Ans Icons
Morning breaks
Above the wasteland
In front of the screens
Where dreams grow taller
An icon blinks.
(translation: Ólöf Pétursdóttir)
poem by Nicolas Grenier
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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San Pedro de Alcantara
[An orange on the table
Your dress on the rug
And you in my bed
Sweet gift of the present
Freshness of the night
Warmth of my life
- 'Alicante', Jacques Prevert]
Clothes strewn on the table
Juice stains the floor board
He rises above you
You journey beneath him
I watch from the window
Cold in the night
Lemon tea on the dresser
Seed of pomegranite
Adorning your belly
As he falls above you
You draw down his kisses
Warm essence of life
Stranded at the station
In the cold of the morning
My bed for your sleeping
The rug for your dress
In the warmth of awakening
Dawn your caress
Lemons on the table
You make up by the window
I lie in my bed
Unable to watch you
The night steals the freshness
The gift that you left
Now I lie beside you
Emptiness on the table
Your hem in my fingers
The gift a deliverance
Your presence a memory
Warmth of the past.
poem by Frank Bana
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Red And Orange
Ther's a red house,
Inside there's an orange door.
Beside that there's a red carpet,
On top of an orange floor.
There's a red table,
Below an orange ceiling.
Upstairs there's a red bed,
Inside an orange room.
There's a couple of red people sleeping soundly,
Next door two orange ones too.
Outside there's a red truck,
No one knows what to do.
I don't see the proble,
Why don't you leave us all alone.
But now I see the red more clearly,
And I know what's done is done.
And I'll float away with the cloudy smoke,
Before the inevertable happens and I start to choke.
Good bye red house,
So long orange door.
I'm going for a long sleep noe,
Six feet under the floor.
The bike must go - a song
Got to keep the engine running - My soul's on fire
Like to see my baby - my one desire
Can't help this feeling it's hard to explain
It hurts my heart it gives me pain
She says
The bike must go
No no no no no
The bike must go
Riding through the city streets, with my leathers on
Looking cool in black as the day is long
I can't quite understand it but my baby's wrong
Plugged into her Ipod and listening to her song
She says
The bike must go
No no no no no
The bike must go.
She's driving me crazy with her stance
And I'm sure she's taking me for a dance
When she says I hate it - it's like doing time
Then she looks at me and says
The bike must go
Oh no no no no
The bike must go.
There's no way around it, can't persuade her n-o more,
it'll be a pity but what can I do?
Sooner or later she's got to see
The bike's for cruising with her and me
And she says:
The bike must go
Oh no no no no
The bike must go
How can she be so cruel when I love her so
I tried ever thing to please her that I know
Got to keep my baby on the wild side
And she looks into my eyes and says
The bike must go
Oh no no no no
The bike must go
I love my baby like a dog chewing a bone
I called her this morning on the telephone,
There's no way around it
I tried my best
There's nothing more to say except
The bike must go
The bike must go
Oh no no no no
The bike must go.
*I turned this poem into a song which you can listen to on Youtube or google. Just type 'the bike must go' Enjoy.
poem by JeanJacques Evendon
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Paperback Town
Writers: leo sayer & alan tarney
Imagine the space as it used to be
There were fields of corn
There were big oak trees
But a woman in a suit bulldozed it clear
Built a concrete world full of crocodile tears
And we dont understand
That we all have a part in a government plan
Its a hard shot
To be the people in the place that the world forgot
In a paperback town
But I know I know I know we can be free
Though no guardian angel up above
Has kept an eye on me
And at night I listen to the sirens moan
For a broken heart from a broken home
So many people are so alone
In a paperback town
And one day soon Im gonna write it all down
I live my life in a paperback town
Oooh--in a paperback town
Oooh--in a paperback town
Im gonna take my troubles
Gonna pack my bags
Gonna fly my kite for a different flag
Ill sing my song
From the top of the hill
When the night is cold
And the wind is chill
cos I dont understand
Why I should be part of another mans plan
Its a hard shot
For the people in the place
That the world forgot
In a paperback town
Live and die here
In a paperback town
Wonder why here
In a paperback town
But I know I know I know we can be free |
Though no guardian angel up above
Has kept an eye on me
And at night I listen to the rain fall down
And I shake with the fear that we all will drown
But my words dont even make a sound
In a paperback town
And one day soon Im gonna write it all down
I live my life in a paperback town
song performed by by Leo Sayer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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She Wept
she curled up naked
on the bed... sunlight
coming in soft waves
through the open window.
the urn of ashes sat
on the bedside table.
a lone wedding band
lay in the ashtray....
25 years, a long journey.
there comes a time
when bitterness rusts
and crumbles...
as the veil of silence
that time had woven
between them came apart...
she wept!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Mauve Trouser Suit
Yesterday while driving home
I saw a woman wearing
a mauve trouser suit.
Instantly my memories kicked in
taking me back forty year or more
when I was in love with a girl
who always wore a mauve trouser suit.
I could see her standing there
her blonde hair rippling over her shoulders
and her big blue eyes looking passed me
at someone who wasn’t there.
She was never mine to be,
but for a few moments while driving home,
she was there in her mauve trouser suit
standing in front of me.
17 April 2009
poem by David Harris
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A Bike Is Just A Bike
A bike is just a bike
It can take you for a riding hike
A bike is just a bike
With a motorcycle it is a look alike
A bike is just a bike
When you ride it you feel childlike
But there is something I dislike
It is hard to impress and make a good strike
Two wheels and one seat available for hitchhike
Your charming words will have a declined spike
Therefore it is best to leave the bike for the dikes
poem by Sylvia Chidi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Country House
Did the door move, or was it always ajar?
The gladioli on the table are pale mauve.
I smell pale mauve and blue,
Blue soft like bruises—putrid—oozing—
The air oozes blue—mauve—
And the door with the black line where it does not shut!
I must pass that door to go to bed,
Or I must stay here
And watch the crack
Oozing air.
Is it—air?
poem by Amy Lowell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dinner In The House....
a plate falls from the table
hits the tiled floor and breaks into pieces
a woman is caught in utter surprise
and breaks into a hysterical
line but soon
realizes that this is nothing but an
accident of its
kind
about an ordinary plate
on the dining table
she regains her poise
keeps her composure and
retains her
feminine reservation,
'it is just a plate',
(it is not
a relationship)
i assure the guests of the house
and then all begins again
upon a witty conversation,
an exchange of
state-of-affairs
some on a cheek to cheek basis
a tee-a-tee
a peek-a-boo
a little laughter here and
another one dashing
over there
the children are out of the house
playing
some men are smoking
to the moon
it is not just a plate,
there is more to this
breaking
it is a symbol of something greater than those
broken pieces
if they only know
someone is talking to oneself.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Loan Is A Great Disease Of Mind Which Brings In Life Insult And Defamation
Loan is a great disease of mind which brings in life insult and defamation
Loan taker promises to the loan giver that he will pay it on promised date,
Due to inconvenience he failed to repay it according to his said condition,
Being scolded by the party he is ashamed and he will try to commit suicide,
Shame on the part of loan taker to be a coward to have committed suicide,
He should be brave to tolerate public taunts instead of committing suicide,
Life is more precious so, with courage he should face the matter and decide,
He must not fear to the loan giver and die otherwise his family suffers in life,
Rich or poor everyone has one or other kind of loan that is to pay in his life,
A rich or poor man’s delivery is done by other and he is also buried by other,
All have been bounded by various acts of loan in the journey of life’s strike,
Loan of CREATOR, loan of pardon, loan of mercy and loan of helping one another,
A few people say “I cannot open my hand before other to ask help or something”,
After death such people are carried by other to get buried having nothing.
poem by INDIA Mazid S Kazi
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An Autumn Day
Floating all night on waves of clouds
Searching for what life enshrouds
Woke in the morning to the misty dew
Lost in thought of the day anew.
I gaze from the window onto the lawn
And engage my thoughts on the new dawn
The colours and signs of seasonal bliss
These are things you should not miss.
Autumn colours of red, brown and gold
The landscape before you do unfold
Trees burn bright against the sun
The afternoon is nearly done.
As the sun goes down the colours surround
Red, yellow, orange melt into the ground
Night time falls and the colours hue
Turning the sky to a deeper blue.
The moon is out in all it's glory
The stars twinkle bright and showy
As the last of the stars fade away
Comes the breaking of a new day.
poem by Hazel Connelly
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Tired Of Being Blonde
(l. raspberry)
She left the credit cards under her goodbye note
all of these are yours, goodbye? and that was all she wrote
Keys to the porsche she dropped on the floor in the den
Left in the ? 0 dodge that he drove her in
She wasnt angry, she wasnt sad
She was just leaving a life that a lot of women wish they had
Tired of being blonde
Tired of running around with the usual guys and gals
Tired of being blonde
Tired of living up to all he expected
Tired of being blonde
Tired of living a life that had only been planned by one
Tired of being blonde
Tired of letting her dreams go neglected
She used to love to know she rounded out his world
She used to love to be all he ever loved in a girl
He liked to buy her clothes that made her sexy and cute
Guess she decided shed been too long away from her roots
She wasnt crazy, she wasnt mad
She just knew in her heart they had drained her of all that she had
Tired of being blonde
Tired of all the platinum frustration
Tired of being blonde
Tired of looking like a cutie on the cover of a magazine
Tired of being blonde
Tired of chasing all the latest sensations
She wasnt angry, no, no, she wasnt sad
She was just leaving a life that a lot of women wish they had
She was tired of being blonde
Tired of living a life that had only been planned by one
Tired of being blonde
Tired of coping with the desperation
Tired of being blonde
Tired of fighting back the feeling inside that told her to run
Tired of being blonde
Tired of hiding her own inclinations
song performed by by Carly Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Learning
a little brown boy
perhaps aged three
is learning
how to ride his
bike
the father bought
a bike
taller than the boy
but the boy
has passion
breaks his bones
suffers the bruises
just to learn
this new skill
he rides on top of the
bike unable to reach
the brake
and he laughs at all this
not seeking
any help.
there he falls again
on the ground.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A View In Town Square
four blue chairs surround
a center table
at the center table
lies the red cloth
there are no diners
this time of the day
on the blue frames of
the glass window
where the white curtains
hang & flow like silky water
the lush of the red
bougainvillea is a wreath
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Giant Spider
In the bathroom this evening I saw the largest spider I’d ever seen,
it was the size of a saucer and it must’ve been a king or queen.
Menacingly it stood in front of me and looked me in the eye,
I think it was considering whether I should live or die.
It began tapping one of its front feet against the tiled floor,
I didn’t know what to do, I became anxious and unsure.
The spider licked its lips, as though it had decided what to do,
so I took one step backwards and then quickly another two.
I’m sure I felt the floor vibrate, as it tapped its foot once more,
it then stood in the doorway so I couldn’t get out the door
I considered jumping over it, but remembered that they also leap,
but then my brother walked in, and crushed it beneath his feet.
poem by Orlando Belo
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Dirt Bike
Here comes the dirt bike
Beware of the dirt bike
Because I hear theyre coming to our town
Theyve got plans for everyone
And now I hear theyre over their sophomore jinx, so you had better check it out
All hail the dirt bike
Philosopher dirt bike
Silence as we gathered round
We saw the word and were on our way
Now its
Brain washing dirt bike
Ground shaking dirt bike
Mind bending dirt bike
In control
Soul crushing dirt bike
Self propelled dirt bike
You see I never thought Id understand
til that bike took me by the hand
Now I ride
Ride
Ride
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Strawberry Fields Forever
Let me take you down, cause Im going to
Strawberry fields
Nothing is real
And nothing to get hung about
Strawberry fields forever
Living is easy with eyes closed
Misunderstanding all you see
Its getting hard to be someone, but it all works out
It doesnt matter much to me
Let me take you down, cause Im going to
Strawberry fields
Nothing is real
And nothing to get hung about
Strawberry fields forever
No one, I think, is in my tree
I mean, it must be high or low
That is, you cant, you know, tune in, but its alright
That is, I think its not too bad
Let me take you down, cause Im going to
Strawberry fields
Nothing is real
And nothing to get hung about
Strawberry fields forever
Always, no, sometimes, think its me
But, you know, I know when its a dream
I think, er, no, I mean, er, yes, but its all wrong
That is, I think I disagree
Let me take you down, cause Im going to
Strawberry fields
Nothing is real
And nothing to get hung about
Strawberry fields forever
Strawberry fields forever
Strawberry fields forever
(cranberry sauce)
song performed by by Lennon John
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Burning Embers
Fly through the glass of a window pane
fall through the sky feeling the rain
Walk on broken glass your tell-tale heart
Look through the bars of a dirty jail cell
soar to heaven dive to hell
Listen to your tell-tale heart
Setting fires in the ghost twilight
we see you dress we bolt with fright
You see an apparition disappear
Jump to the table, jump up the stairs
stand on the rooftop, looking out through the air
Walk on broken glass your tell-tale heart
Lenore, am I dreaming
How can death keep us apart, mmmm..
Lenore, I see you burning
And I'd walk on burning embers
walk on burning embers
Walk on burning embers your tell-tale heart
Walk on burning embers
walk on burning embers
Walk on burning embers your tell-tale heart
Walk on burning embers
walk on burning embers
Walk on burning embers your tell-tale heart
Heart
heart
Heart
heart
Walk on burning embers
walk on burning embers
Walk on burning embers your tell-tale heart
your tell-tale heart
Walk on burning embers
walk on burning embers
Walk on burning embers your tell-tale heart
Walk on burning embers
walk on burning embers
Walk on burning embers your tell-tale heart
Walk on burning embers
walk on burning embers
Walk on burning embers your tell-tale heart
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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