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A French Visit

Early they arrived, my relatives, unpacking of suitcases,
kissing, jubilation and breakfast, during which all the latest
family gossip was shared. Then they all went to the beach
leaving the house in utter chaos. When returning we had
prepared a buffet, they had brought their wine, the French
are skeptical to wine not made in their country… god, how
talked. I have a small house had to sleep in my study, got up
at four working, but I liked the silence of people at slumber.
About five there were stirrings, people going to the toilet
and murmur of voices, I went back to bed or on my sofa.
Woke up at ten, they had already breakfasted and ready to
leave, kidded me for sleeping so late. Then an intense late
talking, like everything had to be said and crammed into
a few minutes, good byes lots of kisses and the old house
settled back to its usual quietude.

poem by Oskar Hansen
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If You Dont Come Back

(words & music by mark james)
(woke up early in the morning)
(what did the poor boy find)
Well the car was gone and you were gone
And I almost lost my mind.
If you dont come back (if you dont come back)
Yeah! if you dont come back today (if you dont come back today)
You can call up the people at the crazy house
And take this crazy man away
(he threw himself off a gas stone wall)
(he tore his clothes out the door)
I ran out on the street in my stockinged feet
Tell the police Ive been robbed
If you dont come back (if you dont come back)
Mmm if you dont come back today (if you dont come back today)
Well you can call up the people at the crazy house
And take this crazy man away
Mrs. browns been talking about me
To the people across the street
She said (said (I cooked that boy a pot full of stew,
But the poor thing just wont eat).)
If you dont come back (if you dont come back)
Yeah! if you dont come back today (if you dont come back today)
You can call up the people at the crazy house
And take this crazy man away

song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Our House

Father wears his sunday best
Mothers tired she needs a rest
The kids are playing up downstairs
Sisters sighing in her sleep
Brothers got a date to keep
He cant hang around
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our ...
Our house it has a crowd
Theres always something happening
And its usually quite loud
Our mum shes so house-proud
Nothing ever slows her down
And a mess is not allowed
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our ...
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our ...
Something tells you that youve got to get away from it
Father gets up late for work
Mother has to iron his shirt
Then she sends the kids to school
Sees them off with a small kiss
Shes the one theyre going to miss
In lots of ways
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our ...
I remember way back then when everything was true and when
We would have such a very good time such a fine time
Such a happy time
And I remember how wed play simply waste the day away
Then wed say nothing would come between us two dreamers
Father wears his sunday best
Mothers tired she needs a rest
The kids are playing up downstairs
Sisters sighing in her sleep
Brothers got a date to keep
He cant hang around
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our ...
Our house, was our castle and our keep
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, that was where we used to sleep
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our street

song performed by by Madness
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Togetherness Is Gone

My wife,
Stop cleaning the house
Please come here
To accompany me

My husband,
The house is dirty
We aren't able to pay the maid
You've already retired

My wife,
Don't cook
It's a holiday
Let us eat outside the home

My husband,
Don't eat outdoors
We need efficient
You've already retired

My wife,
Let's keep me company
Why the rush to sleep
It's still early

My husband,
I have to get up early
To clean the house
And prepare breakfast

My wife,
I have to go this morning
My friends were waiting
Long we don't meet

My husband,
Be careful on the road
Greetings for your friends
But, why not breakfast?

My wife,
You have fallen asleep last night
I see you sleeping soundly all
I don't have the heart to wake you

My husband,
I'm sorry
I don't welcome you home
But, why should sleep on the sofa?

My wife,
I have to go again
I have social activities
With my old friends

My husband,
Don't forget dinner at home
You look very dapper
Although not wear perfume

My wife,
sorry, we were very busy
I had dinner with friends
Happy dinner, dear

My husband,
I woke up too early
But you're not at home
Where are you?

My wife,
I came home at midnight
I have to go early in the morning
I don't have the heart to wake you

My husband,
I just finished washing clothes
I've found the clothes that you wear today
But, why the smell of perfume?

poem by Hasanudin Sofyan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A House for Four

A house for four

What is it? a house for four
A dingy looking thing
Are there windows? none

What is it? a house for four
Such a palace
Are there greetings? none

What is it? a house for four
Why the space is so small
Is there privacy? none

What is it? a house for four
A dozen creeps could be creeping there
Is there any trust? none

Don't judge me for mine
Poor fool i wont
Even give you the time

Are you judging me?
Your quite the choir
With a cracking voice

And
A tall house that falls
To scrutiny

A house for four and
A house for four
A people of choir and
A people of poor

Do you not recognize
The stains are yours?

A house is not a house
Unless there is more

More and more
Sometimes less is more

poem by Deci Hernandez
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A Seduction: Stick-People Kissing

It was working late,
hours in that office together
the comfortableness;
the small talk
and the shared work.

You held my arm
to trace along the blackboard
the picture of the stick-people
we drew in the crowd.

So close.

You began to trace
two stick people
one kneeling
and the bubble over his head
said
'I love you.'
I said:
'What are you doing? '
You said: 'Don't talk to me
say it with the stick people.'

I drew my stick lady with a bubble
saying
'Are you talking to me? '
You drew and bubbled
'Must be, you the only
beautiful stick lady in this drawing.'

'Humm, ' I said,
need a little more than that.
Who's talking stick-man or you? '

'Of if you must know
stick-man is my wing-man
It is you
I love.'

I bubbled back
my stick-lady saying
'xxxx
hearts and kisses'

The next day in the conference room
on that blackboard
were two stick-people
arms wrapped around each other
kissing.

poem by Lonnie Hicks
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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SONNET: On House-warming

Oh, what a happy day it seems today?
House-warming function is about to start;
And people come with much good things to say;
A house, your own, you built per latest art!

Your labour hard, has brought you this great joy;
A time for fun and frolic, once again;
As kith and kin and siblings too enjoy;
An achievement, most wise and rather sane!

Congratulations on your achievement!
And many more good things must come your way;
A Home; it turns a 'House-warmed tenement',
Where dwells, a righteous family to pray!

But what about the soul-Abode of God?
So keep it pure for celestial reward.

poem by John Celes
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Late Night Mom

Late night mom
You know what to do
Doesn’t matter now
The monsters won’t say boo
You’re up so late
The moon’s asleep too

Late night mom
The kids worry
All night long
They wake up
And you’re passed out on the lawn
Late night mom
Knows just what to do

Your kid’s staying up late
To see what you’ll do
Thinking to herself
Why isn’t mommy in bed?
Late night mom is
Sleeping with the meds

Too close for comfort
A fire by the house
Smoking your cigarette
Thinking without a doubt
Late night mom
Is chilling in the house

Late night mom
Sleeping on the couch
Instead of in her bed
A cushion instead
Of a warm husband’s embrace

Late night mom
Passed out on the floor
Don’t wake the kids
You’re just asking for more

Around two or four
Dad will come out
And pick you up
While you pout
He’ll carry you over
To the room overhead
And help you climb
Slowly to bed

poem by Scarred Unknown
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Early This Afternoon

i had sleep, lots of sleep this early
afternoon
and so
as normal beings do,
i still claim to be one,
i wake up had a dinner of my own
and watch TV
and go outside the house to
breathe
de-stress distress
and then i go back again to what i
like doing
have a conversation with myself
for i am alone here
and want to give the impression
to the neighbors
that there are people here talking
at midnight

actually, i love these ghosts
inside my mind
they are my friends and have
been with me
for years
before you decided to leave
because you did not not care to notice.

and so like that Chinese poet
i take a bottle of rum for a drink
get a glass to share it with me
and my shadow
and the moon which i had
just invited.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Noon Break Eroticism

the night shift must have been so
damning
the dying screams, the latest victims
of the night wanting emergency attention
the doctors are at home sleeping
and some nurses are sleeping
on their desks
and there
marvin wakes up from his deep slumber
washes his face
combs his hair
and does his routinary toilet
gets this tissue
and wipes his
skin under
reflected by this dirty-white
bowl

he stands up, pulls his brief
and pants and zips
and then he washes his hands
with soap and water
goes out of the toilet
faces the coming nurses
and takes his
late breakfast

the morning is so boring
and it is noonday
back again
to this eroticism

the shemales with
some blowjobs
the virgins with fears
and his groans

that no one hears
in the government hospital

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Complicated Lifestyle.

a man's life is simple.

he has a routine, like this: house, office, house.

he gets bored, adds another place,
like house, office, park, mall, house,

waste of money, but a little interesting, he adds more

a friend's house, another house where he can be intimate with someone,
then sex, and games and romance and betrayal and use and sue and
lots of booze,

he retreats back to house, office, house,

but it is not the same again.

he sins, feels so broke, and
to a certain extent
attempts at suicide.

sad, but it can happen to you.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rock The House

I know you like that
You wanna try that
It's like a flashback
So shake your ass crack
I got the balls to
Rock the salsa
Funk the blues-a
Any groove to
Make you move cos
Taking you to
Another landscape
It's my mandate
I'm highly animated even though I'm decomposing
So if your feet is frozen I'ma die to see you ropin'

And when the MC rhyme and the DJ spin
I want y'all to just get down
Now when the MC rhymin' and the DJ cuttin'
I want y'all to just get down
And when the MC rhyme and the DJ spin
I want y'all to just get down
Now when the MC rhymin' and the DJ cuttin'
I want y'all to JUST GET DOWN

Tap your toes and clap your hands
(How many people ready to rock the house?)
Come on trace the globe and shake your pants
(How many people ready to rock the house?)
Just twist your hip and do the dip
(How many people ready to rock the house?)
Come on shake and bake do whatever it takes
(How many people ready to rock the house?)

Graviational pull
I have you making a fool
Out of yourself on the dance floor
Doing back spins running man and more
Party down with Vigga and Candor
Coming to the jam
Or look like a landlubber
And do the aqua boogie
Win lots of goodies maybe
Pop a Gucci wallet turntables is talking to me
It's awfully groovy
Seeing all the treasure and the booty

I wanna get down lower than Atlantis
Going toe to toe with an enchantress
Get funky we've been funkadelic wearin' Pampers
While you eggheads is on the wall preparin' answers
Sharing transcripts while we over here
Dipping and dancin'
Rhythm romancin'
Wallflowers
Giving no action no
All hours we chillin' and max the flow
Relaxing
Opposites attracting
I'ma toss my hat in
Floss when the track spin
Like I'm on a crack bend
Jigging and wiggling
Freakin' booties speakin' to the cuties so belligerent
No religion just bump the feed on
You'll feel reborn
Negativity we just dead it like decoy
Better lift your feet and just measure the beat on
The pulse when it respawns

song performed by by Gorillaz from Gorillaz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The House

They are building a house
half a block down
and I sit up here
with the shades down
listening to the sounds,
the hammers pounding in nails,
thack thack thack thack,
and then I hear birds,
and thack thack thack,
and I go to bed,
I pull the covers to my throat;
they have been building this house
for a month, and soon it will have
its people...sleeping, eating,
loving, moving around,
but somehow
now
it is not right,
there seems a madness,
men walk on top with nails
in their mouths
and I read about Castro and Cuba,
and at night I walk by
and the ribs of the house show
and inside I can see cats walking
the way cats walk,
and then a boy rides by on a bicycle
and still the house is not done
and in the morning the men
will be back
walking around on the house
with their hammers,
and it seems people should not build houses
anymore,
it seems people should not get married
anymore,
it seems people should stop working
and sit in small rooms
on 2nd floors
under electric lights without shades;
it seems there is a lot to forget
and a lot not to do,
and in drugstores, markets, bars,
the people are tired, they do not want
to move, and I stand there at night
and look through this house and the
house does not want to be built;
through its sides I can see the purple hills
and the first lights of evening,
and it is cold
and I button my coat
and I stand there looking through the house
and the cats stop and look at me
until I am embarrased
and move North up the sidewalk
where I will buy
cigarettes and beer
and return to my room.

poem by Charles Bukowski
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Country Heads

They selected their favorites amongst themselves,
In the early stages of their progressive ignorance.
Preferences for those down to Earth and comedic,
And having obtained certain material possessions...
Were those early choices made.
With a backstabbing enjoyed of others done.

However...
Times and things change as observation proves to provide.
And those who have made their choices,
Openly made and discussed on occasion...
Have a similar attribute common amongst them.
Deceiving one another has been maintained as a priority.

'But?
What is it that they 'have'? '

Lots of conversation based on themselves,
And aspects of chasing a dollar bill.
And a love to debase family members.
You know...
The usual country small town backwater stuff.

'I thought you were talking about a people living in a city.'

I'm talking about a city filled with country heads.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Baby Lets Play House

You may go to college.
You may go to school
You might drive a pink cadillac
But dont you be nobodys fool
Come back, baby. come back.
Come back, baby. come back.
Come back, baby. I want to play house with you
Listen to me baby.
What Im talking about
Come on back me little girl
So we can play some house.
Come back baby come back
Come back baby gone.
Come back baby I want to play house with you
Well, theres just one thing baby
That I want you to know
Come on back we can play a little house
And we act like we did before.
Come back, baby. come back.
Come back, baby. come back.
Come back, baby. I want to play house with you
Listen to me baby.
Try to understand
I rather see you dead little girl
Than see you with another man
Come back, baby. come back.
Come back, baby. come back.
Come back, baby. I want to play house with you

song performed by by John Prine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sad Professor

If were talking about love
Then I have to tell you
Dear readers Im not sure where Im headed
Ive gotten lost before
Ive woke up stone drunk
Face down in the floor
Late afternoon the house is hot
I started I jumped up
Everyone hates a bore
Everyone hates a drunk
This may be a lit invention
Professors muddled in their intent
To try to rope in followers
To float their malcontent
As for this reader
Im already spent
Late afternoon the house is hot
I started I jumped up
Everyone hates a sad professor
I hate where I wound up
Dear readers my apologies
Im drifting in and out of sleep
Long silence presents the tragedies
Of love note the age get afraid
The surface hazy with attendant thoughts
A lazy eye metaphor on the rocks
Late afternoon the house is hot
I started I jumped up
Everyone hates a bore
Everyone hates a drunk
Everyone hates a sad professor
I hate where I wound up
I hate where I wound up

song performed by by REM
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Day After Day

She lives in a house
That reflects her state of mind,mind
Organised chaos
In this labyrinth she hides,hides
She got locked up years ago
All these voices whisper
All these voices whisper
Whisper and whisper
And day after day
Marinated in wine and tobacco
All these voices whisper
All these voices whisper and
Day after day
After day
Pink fluffy dinosaurs
Are almost back in town,town
Pulling all the strings
That will finally bring her down,down
She got locked up years ago
All these voices whisper
All these voices whisper
Whisper and whisper
And day after day
Marinated in wine and tobacco
All these voices whisper
All these voices whisper and
Day after day
After day

song performed by by Hooverphonic
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Monument Of All Our Wrongs

i build a house
no one likes it.

the house is empty
i put some chairs.

someone comes and
says, this house is

lonely, it needs
a sound

it is boring and needs
a paint

i put a tree beside
its stairs

i grow another
fence

i put a lone bulb
on a post

and leave the house
for good

that is what the
house is made

there is always
missing

something is
always wrong

this is the house
of regret

it is the monument
of all our wrongs.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Chaperone and Granny flat

The middle-aged woman lives in this apartment with her far relative girl.
She goes to work early in the morning and comes back late in the evening.
The woman left in the house alone the whole day.
She is a spinster in her late forties.
The story begins in this lonely house with two spinsters.
Yet the girl is a teenager.
Once in a blue moon a boy with emerald eyes who comes to see her in blue patchy denims.
“Nowadays he comes very seldom
But very soon the day comes
That he will be here everyday
And one day he takes you away.
Then no more news from you
And I would be the loner again.”
One Sunday morning the girl woke up late as it’s a holiday
And she found those lines written on a serviette which has kept on the kitchenette table.
Nobody knows about her aunt’s whereabouts
And her name was registered in the missing person ledger nearby police.

poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Girlfriend

Hook
Before the house, before the kids
Before the history and all the years
Can we take it back again?
Can I be your girlfriend?
Before the fights, before the storms
Before the silence, before this song
Can we take it back to then?
Can I be your girlfriend?
Verse i
Do you remember, remember when just you and me baby
And nothing else exists?
Seems like a memory from way back when
But if we were happy before
We can be happy once again if we would
Take the time, do the things
Long before, vows and rings
Verse ii
I know you love me from deep within
Just look at our family and the life weve given them
But baby show me the way it is
Im not just a mother or your other
But a lover and your friend so can you?
Bridge
Flirty looks and playful eyes
All night calls and long good byes
Sneaking in because its late
The way we were on our 1st date
Butterflies and sweaty hands
Summer walks and makin plans
If we had it once before
We can get it back again like before

song performed by by Kelly Price
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wine (Love Poem)

Wine is for laughing
Wine is for talking all night
Wine is for living life out loud
Wine is for making us beautiful
Wine is for all-night conversations
Wine is for getting together again
Wine is for ‘never again’ tomorrow
Wine is for sleeping like a baby
Wine is for telling the truth
Wine is food for love
Wine is friendship
Wine is fresh
Wine
Can
Be
The
One
Perfe ct
Companion
At the end of a long day

poem by Ian Beckett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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En.Citatepedia®.ro

A French Visit

Related quotes

If You Dont Come Back

Our House

Togetherness Is Gone

A House for Four

A Seduction: Stick-People Kissing

SONNET: On House-warming

Late Night Mom

Early This Afternoon

Noon Break Eroticism

Complicated Lifestyle.

Rock The House

The House

Country Heads

Baby Lets Play House

Sad Professor

Day After Day

The Monument Of All Our Wrongs

Chaperone and Granny flat

Girlfriend

Wine (Love Poem)

En.Citatepedia^®.ro