Drunken Roads
Oh, sundered lampposts ignite
The oil black streets for a night
And in the phosphorescent facet
I shall amble in levity from musing a casket
Debonairly alluring in its jet black glaze
I'll let my tattered heels loose in the haze
Such a suede wintry patio to trample
A fervent flee to a famished black hole
And dispense the baneful protraction
Of a lifelong subsistence in fractions
Buoy me upon your macadamized skin
Oh, drunken roads, far from the chagrin
These undulating fluid pavements
Would stretch the vexing torments
Though I would rather linger a phantom
Salt and burned beneath a tombstone,
A banshee caterwauling for camaraderie
Among the drunken roads I opted be
And I shall drag my marbled toes
To find direst on your concrete prose
Will I become a squandered vagabond
And lose myself by the skewing seconds?
Or will I bequeath the hefty bounty
Of my vying in a Stygian country?
poem by Norman Santos
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Opus
There was a widow pianist
Who plays most pristinely
That would drag your feet
Into an emollient waltz
But you would never hear
The banshee caterwauling;
His opus.
There was a limped painter
Who paints in fluid levity
That extends such gaiety
To purge the ashen scene
But you would never see
The withering canvass;
His opus.
There was a smug architect
Who design most intricately
That your eyes and mouth gape
Musing in an ornate beauty
But you would never find
The crying skyscraper;
His opus.
There was a coy poet
Who wrote in enigmatic strokes
That would pull a knot in your head
And sometimes in your chest
But you can never read
The written yearning;
His opus.
poem by Norman Santos
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Big Black Smoke
She was sick and tired of country life.
A little country home,
A little country folk,
Made her blood run cold.
Now her mother pines her heart away,
Looking for her child in the big black smoke,
In the big black smoke.
Frailest, purest girl the world has seen,
According to her ma, according to her pa,
And everybody said,
That she knew no sin and did no wrong,
Till she walked the streets of the big black smoke,
Of the big black smoke.
Well, she slept in caffs and coffee bars and bowling alleys,
And every penny she had
Was spent on purple hearts and cigarettes.
She took all her pretty coloured clothes,
And ran away from home
And the boy next door,
For a boy named joe.
And he took her money for the rent
And tried to drag her down in the big black smoke,
In the big black smoke.
In the big black smoke.
In the big black smoke.
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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White Skin Black Heart
Yeah, whatcha gonna do now, now that you started?
Whatcha gonna do now, now that its done?
The words got out there, they float around and are coming right back down.
You gonna leave us lying here
Dealing with the consequences of a bad sound
Of a bad sound.
White skin black heart
White skin black heart
Whatcha gonna do now, that its spoken?
These words of a habit, have not faded away.
.................... it clear, conscious gets opened like a wound.
If you cant concieve a better line and better times,
Then let silence bury you, in the end.
When you feel it, when you feel it
Youre condemned.
You see, youve lost your strangle on the freedom road! you
Think ........................of something a long time ago! you
[spewed it out you were so] insecure! it was like ............. on
The toilet floor! youre a [nine seat] drunk, ............... and
You say you want something, .......... you heard the rednecks
Roaring for blood and then they wanted more! life was so small, you
Couldnt get enough. you made a start.
White skin black heart
Dripping,
White skin black heart
White skin black heart
White skin black heart
White skin black heart
Drag your eyes from [aurora] black heart!
White skin black heart
Drag your leg, get outta here [my sight]!
White skin black heart
White skin black heart
White skin black heart
White skin black heart
You didnt have to start
White skin black heart
White skin black heart
song performed by by Midnight Oil
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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black RESPECT
Black shoes,
black suits,
black sandals
black you,
black specs,
black life,
black faces,
black casket dropped deep the dark grave,
Red ribbons,
red lights,
red flowers,
red wine.
Hearse sirens
wailing women,
Black speeches,
Blackened praises, all in all they call it the last respect
poem by Joub kahuria
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cold Circumstances of Non-Touch
With grey Siamese cat-like eyes
That penetrate the soul,
I walked with her down wet streets
Of friendly drunken bums
And angelic homeless saints
Who knew her name and smiled.
Black lipstick and black beret,
She told me I could stay for the night
In her cemetery room
But she was certain we wouldn’t kiss.
I somehow felt romantic
In these cold circumstances of non-touch,
It made so much sense
In my life of alienation and self-resistance.
poem by Uriah Hamilton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Black holes ain't as black as they are painted. They are not the eternal prisons they were once thought. Things can get out of a black hole, both to the outside, and possibly to another universe. So if you feel you are in a black hole, don't give up. There's a way out.
quote by Stephen Hawking
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Black of Night
The black of night
Gives most people fright
But me
I feel free
In the black of night
In the black of night
Most people loose their sight
Because they cannot see
With out their precious light
In the black of night
Most people think the black of night is not right
But to me the black of night
Is one of the most grandest sights! !
Every day I wait and wait
Waiting to see that beautiful sight
Every day I wait and wait
For the black of night
poem by Michael Carlson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Single Black Rose
A single Black Rose to turn the tide
A single Black Rose to make one die
A single Black Rose to ensnare the soul
A single Black Rose to widen that hole
A single Black Rose to melt the heart
A single Black Rose to force a start
A single Black Rose to entwine the bodies
A single Black Rose to dictate the deaths of these
A single Black Rose to lie upon her breast
A single Black Rose to stop the tears from soaking his vest
A single Black Rose to mourn this memory
A single Black Rose to become a plot in this cemetery
A single Black Rose to take a life
A single Black Rose to end his strife.
(8/21/2007)
poem by Michael Koelliker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Black Woman
black woman
woman black
sing to me
sing to me
like Roberta Flack
tell me your longing
say you'll be there
tell it like honey
your cool moist breath
black woman
black as the cat
who strives in the night
sleek as the bird
daring in flight
black as the land
in which you were born
and bleak the day
from that earth
you were torn
black angel
black eyes aware
ebony skin
natural hair
black woman
woman black
love me forever
love me now
don't hold back
poem by Martin A. Ramos
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cool Black Women
What if BLACK WOMEN Were COOL
Could darken skin in shades like BLACK WOMEN
Maybe enlarge lips and hips the size of BLACK WOMEN
Might even speak in a venacular like BLACK WOMEN
Mimick some of the mannerisms of BLACK WOMEN
Mate and date Black Men, the counterparts of BLACK WOMEN
Adopt and raise Black Babies, like BLACK WOMEN do
poem by Royale ROYALE
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Loose Change
I built a house of cards
Built a house of rain
Built a house of love
Its hard to build again
Built a road to reason
Built a road to fate
Built a road to the promised land
Right up to the gate
Loose change in my pocket
Future in my hand
Too many distractions
For me to understand
Too many distractions
Got to get back home
Get into something solid
Get out of the zone
Some roads bring renewal
Some roads hide and wait
Some roads promise everything
And steal your fuel away
Loose change in my pocket
Future in my hand
Too many distractions
For me to understand
Some roads I been flyin
Some roads I crashed
Some roads I been sleepin on
Some roads I got back
Some roads I been runnin
Some roads I was stopped
Some roads I been walkin down
Some roads I was lost
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Everywhere We Go
They took Your commandments off the schoolhouse walls
They say it's a crime to even pray within the halls
But bless the child that lets You in and knows without a doubt
Once You live inside a heart, they can't take You out
We are soldiers of the cross
We've been found to reach the lost
In cityy streets, down country roads
We take You with us everyday, and everywhere we go
Here's to those across the land, working in a place
Where the boss man and the government say they can't share their faith
They know all too well they'll lose their job if they get caught
But to win a soul for Jesus, they will risk it all because
We are soldiers of the cross
We've been found to reach the lost
In cityy streets, down country roads
We take You with us everyday, and everywhere we go
In the God of all creation, we put our faith and trust
And give our lives to You 'cause You gave Your life for us
We are soldiers of the cross
We've been found to reach the lost
In cityy streets, down country roads
We take You with us everyday, and everywhere we go
Everywhere we go
song performed by by Randy Travis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shes My Kind Of Rain
Shes my kind of rain
Like love in a drunken sky
Shes confetti falling
Down all night
She sits quietly there
Black water in a jar
Says, baby why are you
Trembling like you are
So I wait
And I try
I confess like a child
Shes my kind of rain
Like love from a drunken sky
Confetti falling down all night
Shes my kind of rain
Shes the sun set shadows
Shes like rembrandts light
Shes the history thats made at night
Shes my lost companion
Shes my dreaming tree
Together in this brief eternity
Summer days, winter snows
Shes all things to behold
Shes my kind of rain
Like love from a drunken sky
Confetti falling down all night
Shes my kind of rain
So I wait
And I try
I confess all my crimes
Shes my kind of rain
Like love from a drunken sky
Confetti falling down all night
Shes my kind of rain
Shes my kind of rain
Like love from a drunken sky
Confetti falling down all night
Shes my kind of rain
Shes my kind of rain
Oh, rain on me
Shes my kind of rain
song performed by by Tim McGraw
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Black Top Angel
Stay out of the road, get out of this one's way
He's got a full load and he just won't be late
He is driving under the Devils spell and he won't stop and he won't tell
He is the Black Top, Black Top Angel of Hell
His cargo is the souls of men that once had lived they died
Eighteen wheels rolling, coming, run hide
Truck driver get out of the way or just stand in his way
You may find you can't outrun, destiny is today
He is the Black Top Angel, one can hear the souls that wail
He holds his passions true, he knows his course so well
Sent by the Devil, the lightning streaks the night
To harvest the souls of the men who had a choice but they died
He is The Black Top Angel, The Black Top Angel of Hell
There is no time to waste, the thunder already swells
In the quiet of night the lightning strikes, he turns around
One more soul, another free ride
Can you not see the look of death that is upon his face
Sent by the Devil, to harvest souls of the human race
He holds his passions true, he knows his roads so well
He is the Black Top Angel, The Black Top Angel of Hell.
poem by Bill Simmons
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Black Licorice
Whooo ... wheee!
You there, comin up the stair, the feelin is ice-blue cold.
Shake, its more than I can take, Im startin to lose control.
Watch out, whats that noise, theres somebody at the door.
It must be black licorice, she come back to make me cry some more.
Time, aint on my side, Im losin it more each day.
Licorice, licorice.
Shes got evil in her eyes, and catnip is her taste.
Licorice, licorice.
She wraps me up in her slender legs, her hot black skin to mine.
Licorice, licorice.
Ple ... ple ...please, dont touch me, oh, I know Im dead this time.
Oh, oh, yeah ... licorice, yeah, black licorice.
Licorice, licorice.
Licorice, yeah, black licorice.
Licorice, licorice.
Licorice, black licorice.
Licorice, licorice.
Licorice, yeah, black licorice.
Licorice.
Licorice.
Licorice.
Licorice.
Licorice, yeah, black licorice.
Licorice, licorice.
Licorice, yeah, black licorice.
Licorice, licorice.
Licorice, licorice, black licorice.
Licorice, licorice.
Licorice, woah, black licorice.
song performed by by Grand Funk Railroad
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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As I
As I battle out the austere torsions of the horizon
Plying to shove the gossamer sun to set
Into the insolent demise resting on his nest;
As I dispense the divergence of the liaison
Raveling a prostrate retroactive protraction
Musing on the gloaming before it dawns;
As I subtly winnow the skirts of this curtain
A prolix camouflage to interminable impasse
Shifting fractions and equations to resume this vying;
As I exonerate the black birds perched on the fringes
And obliterate the spiteful thaw of waxen houses
Tumbling a speck to the dead of the sapid vesper;
As the body touch the soul, like a hand in glove
Quelling the warmth and seething the frost
Bereaving the vehement possibility of consummation;
As I haggle in the narrow punctures of this gnarl
Breathing underwater for a halcyon squandering
Becoming the streaks of the abundant malingering;
As I muse upon a truant aubade of distant stars
Fluttering innocuously with the scythe's of time
Bickering the scorching venom of the virulent blood;
I am becoming the beckons of untracked oblivion
That your misty vision could not touch, not seize,
The very interpolating creaks of the voids and pits;
I am flinging everything all over in a lost warfare
For a manic, a marionette tangled on its own string
Attached to vulnerable pegs of gravitated swings.
poem by Norman Santos
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Saturday Mournings
Saturday
Mournings
Those Saturday mornings
I pushed my bed
Away from the wall
Hoping my sister would not hear
Hoping my foster
Momma
Would not hear
Hoping the old wood would
Not squeak or crackle
Too loud
And tell of my desire
Tell of my weakness
Tell of a
Little Girl’s dream
To see her
Mother
Tell of a Black Girl’s longing
for White arms to be
Intertwined with
Black ones
Tell of brown eyes’
Need to see hazel Irish ones
Tell of the truth
Of how I could
Love You Mother
Still Need You Mother
Even after
The Give-away
The living away
The way irony played
In your manic rage
On a Berkeley Street
The day you said you needed
To find her
She, Not me
Offering in my palm my whole
Black heart
But SHE, the daughter you never saw
But needed, no less...
The words still echo in my head
Replay each day
Who?
Wants this Little
Girl?
Drunken Toes
Tap, Tap, Tapping
Desperado’s cadence
on Run over thongs
Who?
Who?
Who want’s this Little
Girl?
Wrist burns
Under drunken grip
“The trick, ” my sister said
“Is to stand the pain”
Twisting my wrist skin
In a game of
Indian Chief
“When you can’t stand no more, you lose!
So you gotta howl like
an Indian... Cuuuuzzz You Lost! ”
Child games
Flashing in my mind
But there is no time
To be a child again
And anymore
But maybe not forever....
And there is no howl
Escaping my lips
Only the train’s
Screamiiiing for me
And I want to be
on that caboose and go aaaaawayyyy
A lone Panthress
Like the poster picture
fuzzy beneath my finger
on the basement wall
at foster home
Opens Black bosom to me
“I’ll take her... I’ll take your Little Girl”
No howl escapes
My lips
The fire of
Your red hair burns my eyes
As you slip into a sea
Of people and traffic
and your
Battle dress jacket
Slips into loud
Stares of onlookers
The train howls our pain
Saturday mornings
I loved
The loving
To see you
Mother
Cried dry tears
When you did not show
Pushed my bed
Back to the window....
My sister and I played
Indian Chief
Till Pain was
Only
A Game...
I could be a child again
by Jessica Holter
poem by Jessica Holter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Book Of Black Holes
You be on yourside
I'll be on my side
In between there is a book
the book of Black Holes
You sling your arrows
I'll dodge the harrows
And then I'll record it
In the book of Black Holes
There be many pages
that goes through many stages
In the end you may find it
In the book of Black Holes
If it's a five or ten
Even a zero I win
And I have recorded it
In the book of Black Holes
Your comments cryptic
Your words haze, eliptic
And like I said goes down
In the book of Black Holes
Your choice to be insipid
Your dreams are timid
Compared to what's collected
In my book of Black Holes
poem by Midnights Voice
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Black Single Rose.
A single black rose.
A single black rose to carry the load,
A single black rose to turn the road,
A single black rose to touch the soul,
A single black rose to widen your hole,
A single black rose to melt your heart,
A single black rose to force a start,
A single black rose to make you cry,
A single black rose to make you dry,
A single black rose to help you climb,
A single black rose to make you lie,
A single black rose to take a life,
A single black rose to take away strife.
poem by Natasha Ligons
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Witches' Glen - An Auld Tale
Gather aroon the ingle nuek
For ae eerie tale I'll tell -
'Boot a glen whar a witchy spook
Cast folk in her terrible spell.
Her hair sae black, her eyes sae green
Black Meg she was the devil's queen.
Warlocks an witches dance at night
When the full-moon turns its ken!
Thunder rides on a bolt of light
The deil's in the witches' glen!
Her hair sae black, her eyes sae green
Black Meg she was the devil's queen.
Auld trees hang o'er the twisted wynd
An' blot oot the licht o' day;
An there, there's staring eyes tae find
A stranger wha's lost their way.
Her hair sae black, her eyes sae green
Black Meg she was the devil's queen.
Frae Grennan wood she hailed an flew
A flash thru the black night wind
Come witchin hour everyin knew
She'd get a' the folks wha sinned.
Her hair sae black, her eyes sae green
Black Meg she was the devil's queen.
They burned her on Kirkmaiden hill
An' they bound her on a stake:
She chanted spells that made 'em ill
An' they pray'd for Jesus' sake.
Her hair sae black, her eyes sae green
Black Meg she was the devil's queen.
When ere ye walk the witches' glen,
Whar branches stretch oot like hands
Tak' Bible, cross an' say, Amen!
An' heed the guid Lord's commands.
Her hair sae black, her eyes sae green
Black Meg she's still there tae be seen.
poem by Patrick Scott Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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