I don't know their address where I have to post my sad letter
The month of November tells Goodbye very soon
And December comes with a snowy cap through my lonely dreams.
All my friends in the class get ready for the journey towards Christmas
And my class teacher asked my name again and again.
I said; 'Orphan'.
My Mom and Dad write me not very often
And they address me by that strange name.
I don't know their address where I have to post my sad letter.
Once they mentioned in a short letter both of them stay in a boarding house named 'Prison'.
'Please try to be a good boy and never think of this lousy place ever.'
* The roads are for cars and not for people........................
-Long Beach Rescue Mission for the Homeless-
I humbly dedicate this poem to 'get on the bus' Restorative Justice Works
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Related quotes
Write Me A Letter
Write me a letter
Write me a letter
Write it today
Im goin away (yes it has)
Write me a letter
Write me a letter
Write it today
Im goin away (yes it is)
Well Ive been away forever
Suicides crossin my mind
Well Ill never, never get so far behind
I said, the ways of the night are evil
Without that lord of day
But Ill never, never get so far away
I said write me
Write me
Write me
Write me
I said write me
Write me
Write me
Well theres nothin I can see
Thatd ever make me
Want to be without her
Shes good, she good to me
Said theres no way to explain
The kind of feelin that you get out in the
She good, she good to me
She good, she good to me
I love her
Write me a letter
Write me a letter
Write it today
Im goin away (yes it has)
Write me a letter
Write me a letter
Write it today
Im goin away (yes it is)
Well Ive been away forever
Suicides crossin my mind
Well Ill never, never get so far behind
Well Ive been so many places
Hidin from the wind and the rain
But you could write me a letter
For to save me from goin insane
Write me
Excite me
Write me
Write me
Write me
Write me...
song performed by by Aerosmith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One Of These Days
One of these days,
Im gonna sit down and write a long letter
To all the good friends Ive known
And Im gonna try
And thank them all for the good times together.
Though so apart weve grown.
One of these days,
Im gonna sit down and write a long letter
To all the good friends Ive known
One of these days, one of these days, one of these days,
And it wont be long, it wont be long.
And Im gonna thank,
That old country fiddler
And all those rough boys
Who play that rock n roll
I never tried to burn any bridges
Though I know I let some good things go.
One of these days,
Im gonna sit down and write a long letter
To all the good friends Ive known
One of these days, one of these days, one of these days,
And it wont be long, it wont be long.
From down in l.a.
All the way to nashville,
From new york city
To my canadian prairie home
My friends are scattered
Like leaves from an old maple.
Some are weak, some are strong.
One of these days,
Im gonna sit down and write a long letter
To all the good friends Ive known
One of these days, one of these days, one of these days,
And it wont be long, it wont be long.
One of these days, one of these days, one of these days,
And it wont be long, it wont be long.
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Fought with the Alphabet
My English teacher said; ' A sentence should start with a capital letter.'
I opposed and she detained me out of the class.
One day I sent her a letter; My dearest Love
'L' with capital.
Since that day she is very kind to me.
But still I am a simple letter.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Keep me posted
My platonic love,
Your post-date letter
Better address to Poste Restante
I am your skinny poor Postman
Never stay in one place
And I lied you,
I am not a Postmaster.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Return To Sender
I gave a letter to the postman,
He put it his sack.
Bright in early next morning,
He brought my letter back.
She wrote upon it:
Return to sender, address unknown.
No such number, no such zone.
We had a quarrel, a lovers spat
I write Im sorry but my letter keeps coming back.
So then I dropped it in the mailbox
And sent it special d.
Bright in early next morning
It came right back to me.
She wrote upon it:
Return to sender, address unknown.
No such person, no such so.
This time Im gonna take it myself
And put it right in her hand.
And if it comes back the very next day
Then Ill understand - the writing on it
Return to sender, address unknown.
No such number, no such zone.
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Not a Poem Poem
A Not a Poem Poem
I will not write a poem
For I am not a poet
I cannot makes things rhyme
I’ve tried for quite some time
So will I write a poem?
NO!
I can’t write poetry
I’ve tried to all my life
Once, I tried to write a poem
About a husband and his wife
It sounded really silly
So I crumbled it up into a ball
That’s why I decided
That I couldn’t write poetry at all
Am I gonna write a poem?
NO!
Well, I’ll try to write a poem
But it will be really bad
It will be absolutely lousy
It will be completely horrible
It won’t be up to snuff
People will say, “Who wrote this stuff? ”
Will my poem be good?
NO!
Can I write a poem?
NO!
Will I write a poem?
NO!
Well, what do you know! ? !
I wrote a poem!
And it’s a pretty good poem, too!
I guess I can write poetry if I try
The next time I’m asked to write a poem,
Will I say no?
NO!
A different type of homework
Being a science student I attended cookery class for only one term
(3 months) in Class 8th...This poem is a small contribution for the
Cookery Class when we had to make Cookies at home and take
them to school for checking/inspection :) I have tried to make it a
funny poem :)
I was given homework to do,
a good presentation I made.
Next day I showed it too,
and all my friends admired.
My teacher came to inspect it,
and she sniffed it like a puppy.
Then she took a small bite,
chewed it and looked happy.
She took another bigger piece,
munching away and smiling.
I watched not feeling nice,
seeing my homework disappearing.
Soon she had finished it all,
I stood with my mouth agape.
My homework seems vitamins full,
that a teacher ate it with a burp?
Normal marking of assignment is to make you pass,
What of tasting and then eating your homework?
Your marking is done like this in class!
in cookery class the teacher eats your work. :)
renukakkar 28.10.2011
Copyright@2011
poem by Renu Kakkar
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I am your maternal Aunt from Ohio!
A letter came without the sender's address.
She's written 'I am your Aunt but I cannot prove it.
Do not think that I am senile,
Still I can trace Judas who made the crown of thorns
For our Good Shepherd!
Do not think that I am mean
The Plumbago mine to whom I give
Before I take oaths in the Heaven.
Purposely I omitted my address on the envelope
Because I know you rascal never step into this lonely Aunt's habitation!
And you scribble the whole life until you go to the Hell!
I am your Aunt Hellen!
For the young couple in the Wedlock Mike & Sue!
*Is this the Canadian Aunt once poor deceased Mom mentioned in my faded dream?
But she must have gone to the heaven already.I have doubts whether she writes her last will the Plumbago mine for me? Now I remember once a palmist in my country predicted, one day I own a sudden wealth in a strange soil.O I can make pencils for poor children free!
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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My class
My class is a funny class
When the teacher is not in
Our class is a circus
That will conquer the school
We have acrobats
We have clowns
and we even have elephants
My class is a noisy class
When the teacher is not in
Our class is a market
That will conquer the school
We have hawkers
We have fruiterers
and we even have butchers
No matter what
A circus or a market
We enjoy our class
When the teacher is not in
poem by Sarah Ally
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I'll Be Back
Messages come, and make us suffer
A letter comes, and keeps on asking…
When are you coming?
When are you coming?
Write me when you're coming home
Without you this house is empty
The one's I trust
A form of rose
Has written me this letter
And has asked me
Someone's breaths, Someone's heartbeat
Someone's desires, Someone's smile
Someone's dull mornings, sleepy evenings
Lonely nights, unsaid words
Longing arms
And have asked her
Longing eyes
That...
When are you coming?
When are you coming?
Write me when you're coming home
Without you this house is empty
The ones with love
My best friends
Have wrote and asked me
My village, my people
Old trees, White clouds
Green grass, my soil
My celebrations, my religion
My farms, my land
My parents and
My wife has asked
When are you coming?
When are you coming?
Write me when you're coming home
Without you this country is lonely and empty
Sometimes a motherly river's letter comes by
And brings along
My childhood days, my games in the backyard
My mother's support, being protected
My mother's lullaby, the softness of her hands
The desire in the eyes, the worries in her words
Hard on the outside, Lovely from the inside
Acts my mom
And asks me in each letter
When are you coming?
When are you coming?
Write me when you're coming home
Without you my lap is empty
Hey the passing wind tell me
Will u please do a little favor for me?
Go to my state and salute to my friends
In that state there's a road
Where my wife and kids live
Just tell them that I love them
Just tell them that I love them
Further down that road
Is my old mother
Just touch her feet and
Say my name in her ear
Hey the passing wind
Just to my friends
My wife and kids,
And my old mother
Send them this message
And tell them that…
I will come home
I will come home
The promise I made to…
My soil
To its colorful nature
To my mother lap
To my blossomed flowers
And to someone's heart…
I will fulfill it
I will come back one day
This war will be over one day
I will come back one day
This war will be over one day
I will come back one day
This war will be over one day
I will come back one day
This war will be over one day
I will come back one day
This war will be over one day
poem by Kiara Davar
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Enjoy
Our English teacher tells in the class;
'Enjoy your vacation and bring me an essay
When you come back.'
How do we enjoy teacher?
When people are dieing with Sicknesses,
Storms, Earthquakes, Mudslides, Wars and so many other miseries.
Children play on the grounds where the mines were rooted
And the weapon manufacturEnjoy
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Our English teacher tells in the class;
'Enjoy your vacation and bring me an essay
When you come back.'
How do we enjoy teacher?
When people are dieing with Sicknesses,
Storms, Earthquakes, Mudslides, Wars and so many other miseries.
Children play on the grounds where the mines were rooted
And the weapon manufacturers are enjoying
When people are dying
Hope you stay till I come back with my sad essay of this hopeless World?
nimal dunuhinga
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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My Class
my class are sometimes noisy
dont mean to be rude
dont mean to shout out
or have the odd chew
we dont mean to swing on our chairs
we wouldnt dare try answer back
my class is full of intelligent pupils ready to work
we dont mean to cause a fuss
or sharpen our pencils at the last minute
we really dont mean to drive our teacher round the bend
my class are acually quite funny
but darnt laugh we our teacher is talking at the front of our class
we like to joke around but we no wen to stop
somehow at the end of most days my teacher will go away with a sore head my question is... who gave her it?
poem by Lauren Seath
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Girl From A Pawnshop
With a pawnshop eyes and a second hand frown
she sat silent at the table
Her boots were brown, should she leave town
To play the role of lover ex-patriot
A nod to the waiter,always her flirty behavior,
You know she always gets one on the house
She pulls out a letter from a bag
Under her sweater and before she
reads she straightens her blouse
There's a passion in being alone A grace in a loveless time
There's no new cross, there's no new sign
only the sun and the changing tide
And out of respect, well really must confess
I never lost your number I never
lost your address
And if we remain friends at best
Sometime later no, no not yet
we'll smile and remember it like this
She put back the letter,one tear
falls like a feather and disappears
on this bar room floor
The gratuity included, you know
the letter concluded
P.S. All my love
song performed by by Black Crowes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Girl From The Pawn Shop
With a pawnshop eyes and a second hand frown
She sat silent at the table
Her boots were brown, should she leave town
To play the role of lover ex-patriot
A nod to the waiter,always her flirty behavior,
You know she always gets one on the house
She pulls out a letter from a bag
Under her sweater and before she
Reads she straightens her blouse
Theres a passion in being alone a grace in a loveless time
Theres no new cross, theres no new sign
Only the sun and the changing tide
And out of respect, well really must confess
I never lost your number I never
Lost your address
And if we remain friends at best
Sometime later no, no not yet
Well smile and remember it like this
She put back the letter,one tear
Falls like a feather and disappears
On this bar room floor
The gratuity included, you know
The letter concluded
P.s. all my love
song performed by by Black Crowes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Write Me
Aerosmith
Write Me
Well I've been away forever, suicide's crossin' my mind,
But I'll never never never never never get so far behind.
I said, the ways of the night are evil with eyes that love the day,
but I'll never never never never never get so far away.
I said write me, write me, write me.
I said write me, write me, write me.
Well there's nothin' I can see that'd ever make
me want to be without her she's good, she's good to me.
Said there's no way to explain the kind of feeling
that you get out in the rain she's good, she's good to me.
See this emptiness inside it makes me scream
it make me crawl out of my high, she's good, she's good to me.
I love her.
Write me a letter, write me a letter, write it today, I'm goin' away.
Well I've been away forever, suicide's crossin' my mind,
But I'll never never never never never get so far behind.
Well I've been so many places hidin' from the wind and the rain,
But you could write me a letter for to save me from a goin' insane.
I said write me, write, write, write me.
Write me, write, write, write me.
Write me, write, write, write.
I said write me, write, write, write me.
Write me, write, write, write me.
Don't write me baby.
song performed by by Aerosmith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One Last Letter
writing one last letter...
not sure who it's to
- dont think it matters!
the words are composed of
the things i've done... both
good and bad.
the commas are for my mistakes,
-Lord, we're gonna have a lot of commas!
mistakes both of omission,
and commission...
the periods are for the times
i gave up, quit trying,
lost my way...
but the body of the letter
is filled with hope....
hope that sees things as
they are, and still believes...
i dont have to sign this letter,
it looks, smells, and tastes
like me...
i'll put this letter in the mailbox,
addressed to occupant,
to whomever gets it...
address unknown!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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For My History Teacher
I’m sitting in class,
My eyes about to close,
I hope teacher don’t see,
I hope she don’t see me.
Bored out of my mind,
Falling so behind,
Cannot concentrate,
I came to class too late.
Although I was on time,
My body was I mean,
My mind is still outside,
From class trying to hide.
What does all this mean?
I haven’t used it yet,
How can I retain it,
When already I forget?
And then she walks over,
That teacher of mine,
A smile in her eyes,
A gentle one at that,
She puts her hand on me,
And sets me kind of free.
Now here I am in class,
Learning about the past,
About history,
And what it did for me.
How we can learn,
From mistakes of old,
Of people so different,
Some so very bold.
Some stood against oppression,
Some stood against the wrong,
Some said it with dignity,
Some said it with a song.
I owe it to them,
And teacher here to hear,
What they did for us,
And no longer fear.
That knowledge is so dull,
No longer hurts my brain,
No longer hurts my skull,
It will surely keep me sane.
The past is the future,
Unless I stay awake,
So I can benefit,
There’s much more at stake.
Than I thought before,
Before I got to class,
Thank you History teacher,
For bringing to life the past.
I never got bored in History class, because I had a wonderful History Teacher. This is for her.
poem by Aisha Sherazi
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When New Year Comes
When New Year Comes
Everybody Shivers
In the month of January
Which is cold and Airy
In February winter get’s Weary
Prepares for Leaving
Paving way for spring to come
In the month of March
Flowers loom Large
April comes
Summer knocks on the Door
When May comes,
Sun Brightens
Mangoes ripe and Juicy
Long hot days
Make June very tiring
Holidays for Children
All wait for Rain
Monsoon at its Peak
When July arrives
Rain brings Smile
August is the month of Freedom
Sometimes sticky sometimes Hot
In September one feels
Better then August
We call it Autumn
One see’s Flowers
Which are colourful and Rosy
October is the festival Month
Weather is good
Winter getting Ready
November makes everybody Happy
Everybody enjoys
Lights of Deepawali(Festival of Light)
In the Cold month of December
Christmas celebrated
Throughout the the World
Everybody says goodbye to the year
Welcomes New Year
On the night of 31’st December
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
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Class has a sense of humor. It knows that a good laugh is the best lubricant for oiling the machinery of human relations. Class never makes excuses. It takes its lumps and learns from past mistakes. Class bespeaks an aristocracy unrelated to ancestors or money. Some extremely wealthy people have no class at all, while others who are struggling to make ends meet are loaded with it. Class is real. You can't fake it. Class never tries to build itself up by tearing others down. Class is already up and need not attempt to look better by making others look worse. Everyone is comfortable with the person who has class because he is comfortable with himself. If you have class, you've got it made. If you don't have class, no matter what else you have, it won't make up for it.
quote by Ann Landers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Profanity?
Hey you! Son of a beach.
Come here, get off your sheet.
That beach of yours, how many years?
Since you were born by your.
Mother, father yeah where are they?
In the dam? Dam! You say!
Let us go there you son of a beach!
Leave the beach alone.
They won't touch your beach.
Oh so you want to protect your beach?
Wait where is the dam!
Ill give you pen and paper...Give the dam address.
Wait my pen is lacking its liquids
Give me another pen because my pen is small
In ink level, i need a good pen.
There nice, now give me the dam address.
Thanks boy! Now go back to your sheet and
Guard the beach.
poem by Ben Henry Baang
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