Not Much To Read
I was sitting outside
in my back yard.
The wind was blowing
but not too hard.
A cloud was pushed aside
to let through the rays,
and I got a funny feeling
it was one of those days.
A blackbird flew down
onto a nearby chair
and looked me in the eye
without a worry or care.
I didn’t make a sound
and neither did it,
but it shook it’s head
as it’s body dipped.
It then opened its beak
and gave out a sigh,
as though it read my mind
in a blink of an eye.
poem by Orlando Belo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
At That Scary Night
As if, curfew, prevailed at that scary night.
In stillness, I heard a cranky sound of fright.
Waking up I looked through my open window,
Did I see a man or his ghostly shadow?
A blackbird flew over age old Maple tree.
The moon behind the cloud could not be free.
The waning light fell, on my tired cold bed,
The shadow, pushed in my room his demon head.
Leaves of Oak danced without any blowing wind.
My sleep and peace of mind thus simply got ruined.
‘Who is there? '-I asked in shivering fearful voice.
Canine teeth shined and flashed a pair of green eyes,
Then, dog wailed and moaned behind my house's hedge.
But, I could not gather all my lost courage.
Pressing the Cross uttered I—‘ My Lord save me.'
Vanished ghostly shadow, no more I did see.
poem by Nilakshi Das
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Fly
I was sitting up in my bed,
When a little fly flew round my head.
Whenever the fly was in flight,
His buzz sounded just like a Microlight.
He buzzed really close to my left ear,
And I didn't like him being that near.
The fly, I found, really annoying:
With my patience, he was toying.
I was trying to read a poetry book,
But, my attention from it, he soon took,
On the words, I couldn't concentrate;
His constant whining made me really irate.
Very soon, I snuggled back down:
The fly's whining, I was keen to drown.
I put my head back under the cover:
Of flying insects, I am not a big lover.
But I could still hear the fly's whining;
Through my window, the sun was shining.
The whining sound was really high pitched;
The idea of more sleep, I very soon ditched.
Maybe he liked the warmth of my skin;
He seemed to like me, but I didn't like him.
I got out of bed, and I opened the door,
And, thankfully, I didn't see him anymore.
poem by Angela Wybrow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Against the Wind
I have walked against the wind
From the time I was a child
Forward steps were hard to take
The wind was never mild
The wind blew hard against my
Face and made it chafe and burn
I knew not else it was not of
My concern
I moved with haste to make some
Time against the blowing gale
With every step I took I would
Often see it fail
My body ached with pain fighting
And trying to get ahead
I pushed against the wind 'till I
Was almost dead
Then one day from out of the wind
A voice said to me
Know the Lord thy God and He
Will make you free
So I said Lord make this wind blow
At my back and push me ever on
Hurry Lord hurry my spirit is
Almost gone
Jim Richardson
poem by Jim Richardson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Sun Rays (A Lyric)
The sun rays in your eye,
The love you’re giving that I have found;
Like sun that shines though the sky,
Each love must be worth and sound.
The sun that shines each day,
The love you gave from your heart;
What matter what we do or say,
Never let it depart.
Each heart is broken only once
And never grows from sorrow,
Let there never be no bygones
Not today nor tomorrow.
Sun rays oh sun rays
Never hide behind a cloud,
Sun rays all my days
That's what love's all about;
Give me no raining shower thought,
Nor glimpse of shadows I've caught.
On each star brightening night
When only flickering light is around,
I wish you'd hold me so tight
My fright could surely be drowned;
The sun rays the feeling of touch
Each love is not made of stone,
You know I love you so much
Oh never let me be here alone.
Each heart is broken only once
And never grows from sorrow,
Let there never be no bygones
Not today nor tomorrow.
Sun rays oh sun rays
Never hide behind a cloud,
Sun rays all my days
That's what love's all about;
Give me no raining shower thought,
Nor glimpse of shadows I've caught.
Sun rays oh sun rays
There are many turning ways,
Let’s give future to all
Before it returns to the haze;
Give me no answer: perhaps or not,
Tomorrow you may have forgot.
Sun rays oh sun rays
Sun brightening rays oh sun rays.
Sun rays oh sun rays
Never hide behind a cloud,
Sun rays all my days
That's what love's all about;
Give me no raining shower thought,
Nor glimpse of shadows I've caught.
Sun rays oh sun rays
Never hide behind a cloud,
Sun rays...
poem by Peter S. Quinn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Young Lovers
I like sitting at this particular table in this lively Café
eating my cheese toastie and drinking black coffee.
At a nearby table, two lovers are kissing and making up,
but then after their last kiss they decided to disconnect
to take a deep drag from their shared cigarette
and to take a sip from their cooling coffee cup.
Placing the cigarette in the ash tray they cuddled back together
fitting like a glove with their arms around each other
totally preoccupied, giving no one else a second look.
After several minutes of holding, kissing and whispering,
and the occasional passionate tongue in mouth sucking
it looked as though they were here for the rest of the day.
Suddenly her chair flew backwards, as she quickly stood up
rocking the table, which spilled the coffee from their cups
and the ashtray to hit the floor, as she pushed him away.
She then slapped his face and shouted at him in anger,
but he sat calm and collected, and said that he loved her,
and she had misunderstood what he was trying to say.
With her hot temper cooling she decided to sit back down
and asked him a question, which caused her face to frown,
as he explained she dragged the chair closer to him again.
Picking up the fallen ashtray she listened to what he said
whilst others in the Café were drinking and being fed,
and outside it persistently poured with torrential rain.
She ordered two fresh coffees, with a deep sigh of regret
while he lit up another blue tipped cigarette,
which they both drew upon until none remained.
He held out his hands as they looked into each other’s eyes,
with a smile she touched his finger, as though to apologise
then dragged her chair closer and began kissing again.
I like sitting at this particular table in this lively Café
eating my cheese toastie and drinking black coffee
watching people fall out who later make up,
and it’s by no means unusual to see in this busy place
a few exchanged words followed by a slap across the face
and then a kiss and make up, over a fresh coffee cup.
poem by Orlando Belo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Haircut
They sat me down upon their chair
Anxiously and impatiently I sat there
Nervous was I, so I whimpered out a sigh
But I was ready for them to cut my hair.
The hairdresser she talked to me for a bit
I felt happy and handsome I must truly admit
She felt my hair, as the patrons did stare
As upon that swivel chair I did sit.
I was then taken to the Shampooers sink
The Hairdresser shampooed my hair as I did think
I spoke, but I stalled, happy I am that I am not bald
So instead I gave my hairdresser a happy wink.
I was then led back unto my chair
I smelled the scent of her perfume in the air
I was then afraid, as I saw the tools of her trade
But she promised me all of her loving care.
Clip, clip, clip the scissors I then did hear
So close was that sound was to my ear
My hair it fell, from my head it was expelled
As I watched her craftsmanship from her mirror.
Then not long later she finished her job
I looked at my hair and I gave her an appreciative nod
She then finished the clip, I gave her a tip
At her work and gentleness I was both pleased and awed.
RANDY L. McCLAVE
poem by Randy McClave
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Shangri-la
Now that youve found your paradise
This is your kingdom to command
You can go outside and polish your car
Or sit by the fire in your shangri-la
Here is your reward for working so hard
Gone are the lavatories in the back yard
Gone are the days when you dreamed of that car
You just want to sit in your shangri-la
Put on your slippers and sit by the fire
Youve reached your top and you just cant get any higher
Youre in your place and you know where you are
In your shangri-la
Sit back in your old rocking chair
You need not worry, you need not care
You cant go anywhere
Shangri-la, shangri-la, shangri-la
The little man who gets the train
Got a mortgage hanging over his head
But hes too scared to complain
cos hes conditioned that way
Time goes by and he pays off his debts
Got a tv set and a radio
For seven shillings a week
Shangri-la, shangri-la, shangri-la, shangri-la, shangri-la, shangri-la
And all the houses in the street have got a name
cos all the houses in the street they look the same
Same chimney pots, same little cars, same window panes
The neighbors call to tell you things that you should know
They say their lines, they drink their tea, and then they go
They tell your business in another shangri-la
The gas bills and the water rates, and payments on the car
Too scared to think about how insecure you are
Life aint so happy in your little shangri-la
Shangri-la, shangri-la la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la
Put on your slippers and sit by the fire
Youve reached your top and you just cant get any higher
Youre in your place and you know where you are
In your shangri-la
Sit back in your old rocking chair
You need not worry, you need not care
You cant go anywhere
Shangri-la, shangri-la, shangri-la, shangri-la, shangri-la, shangri-la
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
A bird came into my garden
A bird came into my Garden
She looked very Cheerful
Her beak was red and feathers Blue
Red stripes shone on the Body
Sound of her chirping lured me
I wanted to take her in my Lap
I ran after her
She kept on Dodging
Though tired but urge was Increasing
I tried my Best
But couldn’t catch her
Frustrated, I sat down on the Mat
I closed my eyes to take little Rest
I opened my eyes and was quite surprised
I found the bird sitting in my Lap
She understood the feelings,
I had for her
Surrendered Herself
To make me love her
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Blackbird Metaphor
the Beatles had it
as the struggle for freedom of the blacks
that blackbird singing in the dark
wanting to be free
the Americans
had that blackbird swirling in Vietnam
that chopper that saved lives
that war that caused them humiliation
in the world's opinion
that lie of Nixon
Steven Wallace had eight ways of seeing
that blackbird
Noah sent that blackbird
that did not come back since it was happy
picking on the rotten flesh
of the remains of the dead
the ninth way
of seeing
disobedience
One writes again about the blackbird
that lives singing the songs of neurosis
in his mind
at winter time
The poet commits suicide
His colleagues bury him
with eulogies and ' what ifs'
One sleeps with a blackbird
The other sings with a blackbird
Someone flew away with a blackbird
and did not come back
since then
So many stories
So many poems are written
Now i have to write about this blackbird too
But there shall be no disturbance
No unhappy ending
I swear to you.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Don't Make No Promises (Your Body Can't Keep)
saw this girl walking down the street
I thought, oh yeah, she looks rather neat
I grabbed my chance and played my usual game
I tell you man, it can be a strain
She didn't wanna know what I'd got to say
Just shook her head and looked the other way
And then she said, I've met your type before
For me you're all the same, you're such a bore
Oh no, don't make no promises
Oh no, your body can't keep
Next day, can you believe, she was at the show
She said, hey man, you're great and she took me home
She started to undress, what a shock to see
Padded bra, blonde wig, not much left for me
Oh no, don't make no promises
Oh no, your body can't keep
Oh no, don't make no promises
Oh no, your body can't keep
Oh no, don't make no promises
Oh no, your body can't keep
Oh no, don't make no promises
Oh no, your body can't keep
song performed by by Scorpions
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Keeps On A Rainin'
Spencer Williams / Max Kortlander
One dark and stormy night
Big John was feeling blue
Ain't he didn't seem right
So he didn't know just what to do
I said do please tell me
Ain't you satisfied?
He looked around so pitiful
And to me he replied
Keeps on raining
Look how it's raining
Daddy he can't make no time
Wind keeps blowing
Howl wind's blowing
Soon I'll find
In the winter time
When it starts to snow
I know, Billy
You've got to have some dough
Keeps on raining
Look how it's raining
Daddy he can't make no time
Ain't the rain just beautiful
Some people say
But I'd rather see it
In a fine movie place
Keeps on raining
Look how it's raining
Your daddy he can't make no time
No daddy he can't make no time
song performed by by Billie Holiday
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Wind is Blowing
The wind is blowing,
Blowing slow and fast on my skin,
Blowing fast and hard on his skin.
The wind is cold tonight,
Blowing scary in the woods,
Blowing swiftly throw the night.
The wind is warm today,
Blowing hard in town,
Blowing soft in the county.
The wind is cool,
Blowing all the time,
As they say,
The wind is blowing!
poem by Angela M. Maynard
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I Didn't Realize
Hey, why are you sitting on a cloud, dangling your legs over the edge?
Come down to earth and find reality, not dreams, and make a pledge,
to try and make an effort to succeed
with your feet firmly planted on the ground,
and where no shadows can obscure your mind,
so that your future’s sound.
Hey, WHY ARE YOU sitting on a cloud?
Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize your situation,
but of course you're dead right, I can see that now.
Please accept my commiserations.
Eternal dreams!
poem by Ernestine Northover
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
My Boy Jack
1914-1918
'Have you news of my boy Jack?'
Not this tide.
'When d'you think that he'll come back?'
Not with this wind blowing, and this tide.
'Has anyone else had word of him?'
Not this tide.
For what is sunk will hardly swim,
Not with this wind blowing and this tide.
'Oh, dear, what comfort can I find?'
None this tide,
Nor any tide,
Except he did not shame his kind-
Not even with that wind blowing, and that tide.
Then hold your head up all the more,
This tide,
And every tide;
Because he was the son you bore,
And gave to that wind blowing and that tide!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Have You News of my Boy Jack?
'Have you news of my boy Jack?'
Not this tide.
'When d'you think that he'll come back?'
Not with this wind blowing, and this tide.
'Has anyone else had word of him?'
Not this tide.
For what is sunk will hardly swim,
Not with this wind blowing and this tide.
'Oh, dear, what comfort can I find?'
None this tide,
Nor any tide,
Except he did not shame his kind-
Not even with that wind blowing, and that tide.
Then hold your head up all the more,
This tide,
And every tide;
Because he was the son you bore,
And gave to that wind blowing and that tide!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Don't Make No Promises
Music :matthias jabs
Lyrics:herman rarebell
I saw this girl walking down the street
I thought, oh yeah, she looks rather neat
I grabbed my chance and played my usual game
I tell you man, it can be a strain
She didn't wanna know what i'd got to say
Just shook her head and looked the other way
And then she said, i've met your type before
For me you're all the same, you're such a bore
Oh no, don't make no promises
Oh no, your body can't keep
Next day, can you believe, she was at the show
She said, hey man, you're great and she took me home
She started to undress, what a shock to see
Padded bra, blonde wig, not much left for me
Oh no, don't make no promises
Oh no, your body can't keep
Oh no, don't make no promises
Oh no, your body can't keep
Oh no, don't make no promises
Oh no, your body can't keep
Oh no, don't make no promises
Oh no, your body can't keep
song performed by by Scorpions
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Goodby Mass
Sitting on a hard chair try to sit straight
Sitting on a hard chair this moment won't wait
Listening to the speakers they're talking about you
Look at all the people all the people you know
Sitting with my back straight it becomes hard to hear
Some people are crying it becomes hard to hear
I don't think you'd have liked it you would have made a joke
You would have made it easier you'd say "tomorrow I'm smoke"
Sitting on a hard chair how far we have come
Trying hard to listen to your friends who have come
Some of them are famous and some are just like me
Trying hard to listen trying hard to see
Sitting in a hard chair it's over time to stand
Some people are crying I turn to grab your hand
It's your daughter saying thank you
You, you would have made a joke
"Isn't this something," you say, "tomorrow I'm smoke
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The next to last pew
An old man was at church last Sunday
He sat in the next to last pew
I slid into the seat right next to him
And gave a him a friendly “hi-dee-do”
He gave me a nod with his time worn brow
Then swiveled his head all around
While his gaze sized up the parishioners
His ears seemed to soak up their sound
His sad gaze seemed to pick out each person
One by one, as he seemed to stare into their soul
To some he nodded, in an approving way
While to others his look was ice cold
I asked if he was a member of this church
I said I wasn’t familiar with him, was he new?
He smiled a soft smile and shook his head no
Said “I’m here most of the time…
here in this next to last pew”
I said “what do you think of our little church”
He rubbed his hands through his hair of silver grey
Looked deep in my eyes and gave a soft, sad sigh
And said “you may not like what I have to say”
He said “ Son, I can see into the soul of these people
And to you, what I say is on the level”
That Most are fools in the eyes of the Lord
The rest are pawns in the hands of the devil
I looked all around at my fellow church-goers
Of whom he spoke, I knew of more than a few
And when I turned back to allow “that could be so”
I was all alone in the next to last pew!
poem by David Whalen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Goodby Mass - In A Chapel Bodily Termination
Sitting on a hard chair try to sit straight
Sitting on a hard chair this moment wont wait
Listening to the speakers theyre talking about you
Look at all the people all the people you knew
Sitting with my back straight it becomes hard to hear
Some people are crying it becomes hard to hear
I dont think youd have liked it you would have made a joke
You would have made it easier youd say tomorrow Im smoke
Sitting on a hard chair how far we have come
Trying hard to listen to your friends who have come
Some of them are famous and some are just like me
Trying hard to listen trying hard to see
Sitting in a hard chair its over time to stand
Some people are crying I turn to grab your hand
Its your daughter saying thank you, you, you would have made a joke
Isnt this something, you say, tomorrow Im smoke
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Exquisite Sun-day
exquisite sun-day
clear as the sky that blues over my head
rays of the rising sun emitting on my skin, but not red
said i’d rather stand than sit
walk on my feet
like a black talon
on a donkey wagon
simple but random
sitting on a rock-stone
as if i narrated from the “cemetery of the mind”
….sigh!
one such piece of art detained my thought
….it read in part “when love’s perished”
picked a pen and a sketching pad
on my lap i wrote not about sadness nor happiness
neither were it fiction or true story
needless to say, i saw a kori
looked at it as it flew away not in despair
spreading vividly its wings like a flair
wondered not at ease as if it had just ended
summoned on this rock-stone not offended
either by serenity nor tank engine, all blended
how if i never knew from whence it began
need i declare my whishes not a heathen
didn’t i long tell you it were not hidden
what else need i mention that not sicken
tell i before i stand my body
and carry this rock-stone to my shawty
nah! to my one lady
tell her that happened on this exquisite sunny sun-day
i guess not about humans
i press hot and sort out pagans
‘am not mocking but talking whilst walking
‘t is a walk-talk
but prayer and a king solomon’s psalm
a congo drum
to calm
my body and soul to my palm
on an exquisite sunny sun-day….
ntema, o.p.
[email protected]
©28.08.2011
0725hrs
poem by Onalethuso Petruss Ntema
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!