I hide a letter underneath a migrating bird's wings
And she replied promptly.
Nice letter Sir,
And I like that poem too.
'Bitter is sweet'
I love you!
If you don't mind
Please take me to America!
I am an Afghan girl
Nineteen years old
Five feet and three inches tall
Black hair and brown eyes
Scared of Bombs and Religious embargoes too!
to my humble friend Denis Joe!
* the homeless man
takes off his shoes before
his cardboard house.
-Penny Harter
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Shore Leave Ornithology
Slacks, coffee trend
I could have been in the us navy
Flapping grey, coffee smoke
I could have been in another nineteen-fifty
Where the hell were you?
Rough stencil, print music
Cardboard, cardboard, cardboard, cardboard, cardboard coffee
Saxophone mention barbers, n.y.
The cigarette was burning, the flat shoes
Stool
Bongo, coffee, don't mention that black man
The leather-coat was his
Where was she?
Could have been in the us navy
Flow beating air, table-top, shoulder slung
Shore leave, no sailors here
Cardboard, cardboard, cardboard, cardboard
Liquor slacks twisting
The cigarette was burning
The flat shoes, the flat shoes, the flat shoes
Bird, bird, bird, bird
I could have been in another nineteen-fifty
Bird, bird, bird, bird, bird, bird, bird, bird, bird, bird
Bird, bird, bird, bird, bird, bird, bird, bird, bird, bird
I could have been in another nineteen-fifty
Bird, bird, bird
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Brown Penny
I WHISPERED, 'I am too young,'
And then, 'I am old enough';
Wherefore I threw a penny
To find out if I might love.
'Go and love, go and love, young man,
If the lady be young and fair.'
Ah, penny, brown penny, brown penny,
I am looped in the loops of her hair.
O love is the crooked thing,
There is nobody wise enough
To find out all that is in it,
For he would be thinking of love
Till the stars had run away
And the shadows eaten the moon.
Ah, penny, brown penny, brown penny,
One cannot begin it too soon.
poem by William Butler Yeats
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Real Gem
A classic beauty met my eyes
As if from Roman years
And there she was, so worldly wise,
Adorned with pearls like tears.
With jet black hair to match her dress,
She smiled on my TV,
Exuding humble happiness
For all the world to see.
I watched enthralled yet not at gold
For necklaces and rings,
For she was winsome to behold,
Outshining all these things.
God bless her gently day-by-day,
This girl with twinkling eyes.
I hope God hears these words I pray
Because she's really NICE...
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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America, So Beautiful.
Why is America the beautiful,
So beautiful?
It's because of German Polkas, and beer.
It's because of Irish corned beef, and potatoes.
It's because of French wines, and escargot.
It's because of soul food, from the hood,
The kind you find in Big Momma's,
In Cathedral City California.
It's because of Mexican food,
And the Mariachi's that accompany it.
It's because of the Hawaiian Poi,
And the Alaskan, fish ice cream.
It's because of the Italian Operas,
And spaghetti and meat balls.
It's because of the English language,
Brought to America,
By the subjects of the king.
America is blue eyes,
America is green eyes,
America is black eyes,
America is brown eyes,
America is blond hair,
America is red hair,
America is black hair,
And my all time favorite,
America is brown hair.
America is Japanese sushi,
America is Chinese hot and spicy soup.
America is mountains,
Beautiful snow covered mountains,
Shining in the sun.
America is deserts,
Hot arid and unforgiving,
And filled with life.
America is forests,
That extend,
'From sea to shining sea.'
America is ingenuity,
Great minds, from all over the world,
Reach their great fruition,
In America.
Where they are free.
Why is America the beautiful,
So beautiful?
It's because America is a rainbow,
Red, white, black, yellow, brown,
And all the myriads of colors,
These main colors produce.
It's so cliche to say,
We are a melting pot.
I prefer to say, What the great Bill Murray said.
'We are a mongrel race.'
Yet nothing on God's green Earth,
Is more loyal, more faithful, more loving,
And more devoted,
Than the mongrel.
America the beautiful.
poem by Juan Olivarez
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Someone Else's Shoes
As I look through my closet of
poetry I realized that many of my
poems are someone else's shoes.
I was never a woman who had one breast
removed. For that’s someone else's shoes.
Nor did I know a man who hung himself
by the laces of his old brown shoes.
Once again that's someone else's shoes.
Neither was I on crack or a little
homeless girl named Suzy Brown.
Those too are someone else's shoes.
Now as I close my closet of poetry
I realize that in order for me to be true
to my art of poetry. I must sometimes
be willing to walk in someone else's shoes.
Ooh, Ohh, Hey...
(hook)
Ill pay a penny for your thoughts
A nickel for your kiss, you know that I will
Ill pay a penny for your thoughts, yes I will
A nickel for your kiss, you know that I will (listen)
Listen honey baby, theres something that ive
Gotta make clear
You may have had other lovers in your life
That cant compare to whats going down here
I promise Ill be gentle, Im gonna give you all
That Ive got (got)
Dont say no, let your body go,
Ill do my thing nice and slow if you tell me your
Thoughts
(hook)
Ill pay a penny for your thoughts
A nickel for your kiss, you know that I will
Ill pay a penny for your thoughts, come on
Nickel for your kiss, you know that I will, I will
I will pay anything to know whats on your mind
I do whatever it takes, pretty baby
I will pay anything to know whats on your
Mind please tell me baby, I would pay anytime, tell me whats on your mind
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Girl I wanna work your body
Like your body was a (9) to (5)
And just when you think Im getting tired baby
Ill be putting in overtime
I only want to please you, to tease you is not my style
Just let me know when your ready for love
Girl you gotta make up your mind
Ill pay a penny for your thoughts
A nickel for your kiss, you know that I will
Ill pay a penny for your thoughts, yes I will
A nickel for your kiss, you know that I will
I will pay anything to know whats on your mind
I will pay anythign to know whats om your mind
I will pay anytime, tell me whats on your mind
I will pay anytime, tell me whats on your mind
Baby tell me, tell me baby
Whatever you want girl
Whatever you need lady
Ill be right there for you baby, yes I will
Ill pay a penny for your thoughts
A nickel for your kiss, I will
song performed by by Usher
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sweet Jamaica
Other people come and go
They try to make it through
I have to smile and tell them no
Cause I only care for you
I only care for you
Yes, you are my sweet, sweet jamaica
Country mama, brown country girl
When you touch me i, I feel so tall
If you let me down boy Id be so small
Yes, you are my sweet jamaica
Country mama, brown country girl
Everybody needs a friend
To brighten up their world
I know youll never let me down
Cause youre not that kind of girl, no no no
I want to see you round every turn
Youre my world far as Im concerned
Got no time to runabout
Just want to spend my life out with you, only you
Yes, you are my sweet, sweet jamaica,
Country mama, brown country girl
Oh, yes you are
Sweet jamaica, oh brown country girl, ooh
song performed by by Cat Stevens
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Magic of Numbers
The Magic of Numbers—1
How strange it was to hear the furniture being moved around in the apartment upstairs!
I was twenty-six, and you were twenty-two.
The Magic of Numbers—2
You asked me if I wanted to run, but I said no and walked on.
I was nineteen, and you were seven.
The Magic of Numbers—3
Yes, but does X really like us?
We were both twenty-seven.
The Magic of Numbers—4
You look like Jerry Lewis (1950).
The Magic of Numbers—5
Grandfather and grandmother want you to go over to their house for dinner.
They were sixty-nine, and I was two and a half.
The Magic of Numbers—6
One day when I was twenty-nine years old I met you and nothing happened.
The Magic of Numbers—7
No, of course it wasn’t I who came to the library!
Brown eyes, flushed cheeks, brown hair. I was twenty-nine, and you were sixteen.
The Magic of Numbers—8
After we made love one night in Rockport I went outside and kissed the road
I felt so carried away. I was twenty-three, and you were nineteen.
The Magic of Numbers—9
I was twenty-nine, and so were you. We had a very passionate time.
Everything I read turned into a story about you and me, and everything I did was turned into a poem.
“The Magic of Numbers” from The Collected Poems of Kenneth Koch, published by Alfred A. Knopf, Inc. Copyright © 2006 by Kenneth Koch.
poem by Kenneth Koch
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Bombsite Conversation.
Fay sat beside you
on the concrete stairs
of Banks House
looking out
into the Square
where young girls
played skip rope
or boys having toy guns
reenacted WW2
taking no prisoners
firing noisy cap guns
and Fay said
where shall we go?
where do you want to go?
you said
away from the noisy guns
and skip rope games
she replied
and so you both got up
and went out
into the Square
and down the slope
the morning sun
blessing your heads
she in her summery dress
of yellow and orange flowers
white socks and sandals
and you in your grey tee shirt
and jeans and battered
black shoes
and you walked up
Meadow Row
between the houses
on either side until you turned right
by the public house
and onto the bombsite
behind the greengrocer store
and there you both sat
on the remains of a wall
looking around the ruins
and wild flowers
growing between bricks
and broken concrete blocks
and Fay said
I wonder who lived here
when the bombs fell?
what did they feel?
you studied her fair hair
tied in a bow
her blue eyes
scanning the scene
the white and yellow flowers
the weedy green
scared I guess
you said
I would be
she said
my mum said
she hid under
the dining room table
with her niece
where she lived
when the bombs fell
and there was the sound
of bombs falling
and explosions
and bangs
and people calling
and children crying
you said
Fay put her arm
under yours
and squeezed it tight
and lay her head
on your shoulder
and she whispered
I'm glad we
weren't here then
glad we were born
after the War
me too
you said
and she squeezed
your arm tightly
some more.
poem by Terry Collett
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A Waltz Of Blue Smiles
Please read it on a waltz rhythm: One! two, three...
She's losing her house
She's losing her house
And what what what what
She does?
A poem she writes
Paints both of her eyes
And feet in dark blue
then she cries:
I'm loosing my house
I'm loosing my house
There's nothing to do
Oh mine!
I'm loosing my house
I'm loosing my house
Blue eyes and blue feet
Oh, sweet!
Why are you so sweet
Why are you so sweet
Blue eyes blue face
and blue feet?
Her handkerchief fly
Slow searching the sky
blue rivers of tears
got dry.
On a smile smiley
cheek
colours pass through
With tears and fears
Of blue.
She's losing her house
That's sad very sad
But we know she'll survive
And smile.
Blue cute sign became
In a book of one poem
blue fears, blue tears in
origami folded again.. Insane? ! ..
poem by Elena Sandu
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Get Your Hair Cut!
The perfect haircut suits you best,
Short back and sides, my lad!
So take your cash and go invest
In what makes most folks glad.
It's up to you to make the choice,
I gave you good advice...
So why look like the other boys,
When you could look quite nice?
I've seen you in the smartest suit
Let down by scruffy hair...
That's hardly what I'd call astute,
So almost debonair...
You used to be the one to watch,
The guy who had it all...
So why not take it up a notch?
Good-looking, standing tall.
Please get your hair cut soon as poss!
Don't dilly-dally, friend!
My word, it would impress the boss,
On that you can depend!
Keep up the good work that you do,
Eyes twinkling day by day!
Sit down, relax, snip-snip, you're through...
Thank God for that! Oi, vey!
Denis Martindale, copyright, January 2011.
poem by Denis Martindale
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Seans In The Sky
-daddy, when did we have no house?
-when?
-when, when did we have no house and we rented this house?
-in 1973, we didnt have this house, yet, thats when we bought this house
-oh!
-two years before you were born
-oh, and I just wasnt coming with you? to find this house?
-no, well you werent born yet. you were still in the sky.
-oh, and when I came back, was down here, what did I went in?
-a little, a little cardboard box. with a little blanket in, little teeny tiny
Teeny tiny little boy in a little tiny cardboard box. they used to have apples in it, hmm
You used to do this here.
-a apple box!
-well, a little cardboard box, you see. like they bring groceries in. and it was you instead of the groceries.
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Contagious.....
dear friend
i write this with bitterness
this poem,
this un-poem,
this anti-poem which is bitter
i do not know if you are bitter too,
because if you are
perhaps you
can easily understand how is it to be unpoetic
because you are bitter
because i have
the impression that to be poetic
it must be something
that makes us feel beautiful
inside out
and which also
spreads beauty
all around the world,
and people will be happy
and know that something
poetic is always the one
that creates order,
system,
nice feelings,
nothing of that bitter sort,
that depressing effect,
that prompts a suicide
somewhere along the straight line
of life,
i have nothing bad
for all my intentions,
i am a bitter man,
and i am writing about bitterness,
and you surely will
not like it,
because you are
a happy man,
in blissful state,
as you wish to convey it
in your pictures at
facebook,
and the rest of the write-ups
that you have posted
so far.
this poem is
like a volcano
that soon will erupt
i hope there will
be no casualties
it has to.
because it is needed.
because it is.
so,
i think,
it is time for you to
run away and avoid me,
and forget ab
out me,
as of this moment,
you should have already
stopped
reading.
i guess,
you are interested
in bitterness,
it is sweet to know that
...
are you
bitter too?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Over-Heard Conversations at the Party
'I'm not really fat' he said
'I am anorexic,
just not very good at it.'
'I can't keep a girl friend
I am too, uh, big down there
they say it hurts.'
'You expect me to believe this line? '
'I didn't say I loved you
I said I often think of you.
That's what I said.'
'I have to give up drugs
I am hallucinating
the girl of my dreams.'
So I told her it was ok
she could sleep with him
but she would have to pay
for that pair of shoes
we saw at Nordstrum's.'
'So my Dad says
'All I am asking for
is a Some Sex Marriage.'
So he says he is not gay
he just likes men.
I thew up on him
and he was so sweet
he wiped it off
and I tipped him a dollar.
And then I found out
that the tattoo
he put on my butt
was his ex-girl friend.
Girl, he is ugly
-no way around the facts-
unless you saying
he is packing.
She stood there
and let all the men
get a good look
at her cleavage.
How can you compete
with that?
I don't really read books
and stuff like that
takes too long.
I told him he never
listens to me
and he said
'What? '
I don't know,
the honeymoon
was a disaster;
we made love
for only about five hours
and he started complaining
about his back.
What's your name again?
'You got a girlfriend? '
'Yes' she said.
So he heard us making love
on the answering machine-
the thing was on room monitor.
I told him the baby was his.
Couldn't sleep at all last night-
Vibrator ran out of batteries.
So he said
'You are bleeding.
Is that normal?
'Normal' I said
Bleeding?
And then I passed out.
Well he is very tall,
got big feet,
a big nose.
and bedroom eyes
All the things I need right now.
I had to set him free.
Hard to be with a man
prettier than you.
I hate these parties
and the food is bad.
Don't know why I come.
'I do love you
its just that I don't want
you to think that means
we will get married.'
'The last thing in the world I
need right now is for someone
to fall in love with me and
find out that I was not worth
falling in love with.'
'It was easy. I told him
he was superman man in my eyes.
And then a year later I said
if you are superman
why haven't you solved all of my problems.?
He had no answer.
And then I said
'You are a superman fraud'
poem by Lonnie Hicks
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cutting edge
Like a sharp knife
cutting through a bitter lemon
into red lips dripping
the hairdresser takes my pleasantries,
chops them with a cruel hand,
throws them back in pieces in my face
snip snip into blond hair, brown hair, black, grey, white,
what heroic restraint, condemned
to a lifetime’s cutting, and not
to plunge the scissors into a spinal cord…
this little girl who cut her finger with
her mother’s scissors perhaps
to try to explain how they cut her heart
her love that would grow like hair
how can I know the heart
of this woman who cuts my hair
so expertly.. snip, snip..
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Little Miss America
Sha da da da da da ooh yeah yeah) (my Miss America)
(Sha da da da da da ooh hey hey) (my Miss America)
(Sha da da da da da ooh yeah yeah) (my Miss America)
(Sha da da da da da ooh hey hey) (my Miss America)
Little girl just in your teens (you're my Miss America)
Little girl you're in my dreams (you're my Miss America)
You're so sweet, you're so fine
Dear won't you be mine
Everybody knows it
(Sha da da da da da ooh yeah yeah) (my Miss America)
(Sha da da da da da ooh hey hey) (my Miss America)
(Sha da da da da da ooh yeah yeah) (my Miss America)
(Sha da da da da da ooh hey hey)
Blue eyes, blond hair
Lips like a movie star
Little girl with heart of gold (you're my Miss America)
Little girl with lips untold (you're my Miss America)
You're so sweet, you're so fine
Hey, won't you be mine
Everybody knows it
(Sha da da da da da ooh yeah yeah) (my Miss America)
(Sha da da da da da ooh hey hey) (my Miss America)
(Sha da da da da da ooh yeah yeah) (my Miss America)
(Sha da da da da da ooh hey hey)
Blue eyes, blond hair
Lips like a movie star
Little girl with heart of gold (you're my Miss America)
Little girl with lips untold (you're my Miss America)
You're so sweet, you're so fine
Hey, won't you be mine
Everybody knows it
(Sha da da da da da ooh yeah yeah) (my Miss America)
(Sha da da da da da ooh hey hey) (my Miss America)
(Sha da da da da da ooh yeah yeah) (my Miss America)
(Sha da da da da da ooh hey hey
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Are You An Illegal?
An unfortunate thing
Happened to me in Sydney
While doing my shopping
Sans my jewelry
In my faded jeans
And cotton floral shirt
(Oh well, looks could not mean
What a person is worth!)
As I went to a nice shop
There the Chinese local
Quite rudely spoke up
'Are you an illegal? '
Her attitude stunned me
(My hair is black and I'm fat)
My skin is brown, certainly
but nothing to say I was that!
So without an iota of fear
I replied to the chinky nina
'I'm a guest speaker here -
Do you want to see my visa? '
She buckled broken English
Promptly served my purchase
Perhaps prayed I would vanish
Hope she learned to check her ways!
Lesson:
A fly on a cattle's back feasts
Thinking it is taller than the beast.
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Our Loyalty
amidst the loneliness
that keeps us in this old house
this is what we can do: you sing the videoke
i face the monitor, and i write a poem about us,
25 years on monotony like the sound of the waves of the sea
overnight a boat that takes us to another island
25 years of tolerance about our own idiosyncrasies
another twenty-five years
and another twenty-five years
this is our pledge of allegiance to ourselves
husband and wife
alone, in an old house, left by those behind us
for bitter or for worse
er, for better or for good.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Shoes
The shoes are red
And creamy white on the inside
As pure and beautiful on the inside
As they are vibrating red
On the outside.
She puts her incredibly beautiful feet
In them and begins her practice routine.
The red shoes hug her feet
As if from sheer love,
Glistening, having achieved their purpose.
Plus her feet are beautiful, warm and strong.
I know.
You wouldn't be able to know,
Those shoes looked so gentle and pretty
Just a while ago.
They go with her every move
Seemingly loving every minute of it.
The leather red of her shoes
Is the color of blood
Reflecting and bright, the color of life alive.
So is she
Tall, warm, smiling and full of life.
Many a man has died
Perhaps knowing that she is what he protected,
Or thousands of women just like her.
She knows,
Because she went to battle herself
Right alongside the men that died.
But now she is busy.
Doing what she wants to do,
Her practise in her red patent leather shoes.
She sees me
Observing her.
Her soft, brown and hard eyes smile,
Spreading to her warm and pink lips.
Taller than most women,
Her hair in bangs,
Framing her face.
She finishes her practice routine,
Steps out of her red shoes
And goes into the shower.
I pick up her shoes,
And breathe in
The traces of her persona.
Darling
I still have your red shoes,
And can still breathe in
Some traces of your persona.
Why have you left this warrior
For another?
poem by Lonely People Champion
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Please
Babysitter said 7
She's 15 minutes late
Jimmy's still playing in the bath
Cold macaroni on his plate
I still haven't done my hair
I hate doing my hair
It never comes out right
I must have changed my clothes
A half a dozen times
Ended up in this little black dress
Had to mend the hemline
Now I can't find my shoes
I can never find my shoes
Man I hate this
Am I nervous
Am I scared
Is it worth it
Should I even care
What a time to have these second thoughts
Man I like this guy
I really like him alot
(He's) everything that I was waiting for
And all that I've been praying for
Let be him be the dad, the friend, the man
Let him cherish me for who I am
Let him be the right one
Made it through dinner
Had a little too much wine
Probably talked too much
Went on and on about that little boy of mine
But he smiled
Yeah he really smiled
I can't believe he smiled
What a perfect night this has been
Should I say goodbye
Should I let him in
Calm down girl, it's just a kiss
I know, I know but it's been so long since I felt like this
(He's) everything that I've been waiting for
And all that I've been praying for
Oh let him be the dad, the friend, the man
Let him cherish me for who I am
Let him be the right one
Let him be the right one
(He's) Everything that I've been waiting for
And all that I've been praying for
Let him be the right one
Let him be the right one
song performed by by Pam Tillis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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