En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Misunderstanding

Night outside was not as dark as the bedroom,
I could see its greyness through the window.
Lifted up my arm and with flat palm blocked
the outdoor night. Wife switched on bedside
lamp, asked why I was doing Nazi salute in bed?

poem by Oskar Hansen
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On The Horizon

On the horizon
dark birds in the sky
set against a greyness
of clouds holding rain

and she snuggled
up close to you
and said
I dreamt of you last night

and we were making love
and the big moon
was shining through
my bedroom window

and shadows sat
in the corners
like old men dying
and then my mother came in

and said
what are you doing
with that teddy bear?
And you laughed

and she nibbled your ear
and there was the smell
of pine and damp grass
in the air

and you wished
you had shared
her dream
that night before

making love in her bed
but she's dead now
cancer claimed
and swallowed by death

but the wish still lingers
in your aged head.

poem by Terry Collett
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Love in the Afternoon

I wake up in the night our bed is an ocean I feel starkly alone
and reach out to feel your presence. An empty space, I panic
switch on the bedside light and call your name.

You have been to the loo, ok, tell me not to fuzz, lie down and
squeeze my hand. I switch off the bedside light and the night
continues as you gently snore, it is your silence I fear.

Dawn I wake up and count the beams on the bedroom ceiling,
eight it’s always eight. And it worries me if I should live longer
then you and only count seven bedroom beams

poem by Oskar Hansen
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Dark Night

Dark dark night storm over me
Dark night is a holy blur
Dark dark night stop taunting me
Dark night and I think of her
Dark dark night I'm so lonely
Dark night why leave in me such a mess
Dark dark night I feel so much
Dark night filled with nothingness
Dark dark night please please
Bring the light

poem by Ary Bolanos
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Forcing The Window To Flow

At the window, rain drives
Drizzles and drizzles glow and go
Pushing and loosing the window to and fro
And some-one asked, who is at the window?
Pushing and pushing the window and dash?

In the dark of the night free and roll
Going for the next fresh candle of the day
At the window a hand goes and more, who is at the window?
She cried and roared the mall
And forced the window and banged and go.

poem by Paul Mwenelupembe
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My humanity

In the day there’s light
and at night it’s dark
and yet life
is not all that simple.

Most probably I am somewhere
between the dark and the light
and in the greyness
of either dusk or dawn
and still have to decide
what my words and deeds
of either night or day will be.

poem by Gert Strydom
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haiku, late at night
hides near my bedroom window
he's scared of the dark

haiku by Chris Bowen
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Foiled Again

Sitting up once again...In my bedroom
Shaking hand holds ugly head...In my bedroom
Wish I may wish I might...In my bedroom
Have this wish I wish tonight...In my bedroom
[Chorus:]
At night when you turn out the light, think of me, smile and feel all right
And when you lay your head down to sleep, may I be the one who fills your dreams...
Are you lying wide awake?...In your bedroom
Are you trying to fall asleep?...In your bedroom
Cuz your not thinking about me...In your bedroom
If you were you'd wish those thoughts would leave you...In your bedroom
[Chorus:]
At night when you turn out the light, you wonder what it was you thought you liked.
And you ask yourself what did you see, In an idle hollow fool like me
I'm not the one who fills my dreams...

song performed by by Eve 6
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mount Vernon & Fairway-theme

There was a mansion on a hill
But deep in a secret kingdom
Where a young prince lived
He had four sisters and four brothers
The prince had a special bedroom on the ground floor
With a window that looked down into a deep deep forest
He could see distant lights from other castles in the kingdom
From his window
During the day
He went to school
When it became night
He stayed by himself
Usually in his secret hidden bedroom
One night
While nearly everyone was asleep
He took out of the attic a radio
And he decided to listen to it

song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hang On To The Night

When were laying in bed
And were laying in love
You and the blackness
Fit me like a velvet glove
Thats why I go crazy
When you flick on your lamp
Im dreaming
Hang on to the night
Hang on to the night
Hang on to the night
I dont want to see
That dawn light
Burn your window
When were feeling drunk
In a city park
Put away that torch
Im changed in the dark

song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Last Night

She was there at the bar, she heard my guitar
She was long and tall, she was the queen of them all
Last night, thinking about last night
Last night, thinking about last night
She was dark and discreet, she was light on her feet
We went up to her room and she lowered the boom
Last night, thinking about last night
Last night, thinking about last night
Down below they danced and sang in the street
While up above the walls were steaming with heat
Last night, thinking about last night
Last night, thinking about last night
I was feeling no pain, feeling good in my brain
I looked in her eyes, they were full of surprise
Last night, talking about last night
Last night, talking about last night
I asked her to marry me she smiled and pulled out a knife
The partys just beginning she said, its your money or you life
Last night, talking about last night
Last night, talking about last night
Now Im back at the bar, she went a little too far
She done me wrong, all I got is this song
Last night, thinking about last night
Last night, thinking about last night

song performed by by George Harrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Moon Shadows

Moon shadows drift across
my bedroom window cill at night
just as the sandman sprinkles
his stardust dreams around my head.
I spiral into loving dreams
with you within my arms.
The moon shadows play
across my window
while I am deep in dreams
that sends me to exotic places
with you always at my arm.
We run along sandy beaches
where the palm trees grow.
The island of my dreams
that always comes to me
when the moon shadows show.

2 December 2009

poem by David Harris
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Loneliness

Loneliness comes in the middle of my night
and interupts my reverie.
The darkened room, the soundless void
is in tune with me.

Would the lamp on the table next to me
take this emptiness away?
The light of it when switched to shine
only makes it stay.

So I accept the dark and close my eyes
and rest my lonely head.
The hours pass slowly as I wait for morn
and leave my lonely bed.

poem by Edwina Reizer
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Kid's truth lands pop in soup

It was a bright summer’s day
And a man was driving his car
It seems he was crossing the speed limit
So it’s obvious the police weren’t far
The police chased him all the way
But the man had already reached his house
He admitted himself inside
Looking as terrified as a mouse
He asked his wife to tell
The police that he hadn’t come
And he concealed himself in the bedroom
Feeling depressed, scared and glum
The police arrived and asked the wife where he was
She said he wasn’t there
When her three year old daughter stepped up
With cheeks so chubby and fair
She piped up in her little voice,
“If you want to know just ask me
Daddy’s hiding in the bedroom
Why don’t you go and see? ”
The police caught the man
And asked him, “Well, what do you say,
It seems because of your own daughter
You are in trouble today”
The man just shook his head and said,
“I am to be blamed for this tumult
I always taught my daughter never to lie
And this is the result! ”

The inspiration for this poem came from an anecdote in Reader's Digest

poem by Risha Ahmed
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Dream On

Dark road.
Radio on.
Late night
turning into
early morning
day.
The two of us,
sharing a
joint,
on our way,
to imaginary
better place.

Having finished
it,
you flick the butt
out the window.

We were talking about
something indifferent
when I,
in a moment of silence,
cut in:
' - I wonder when
I came home
last night! '
“ - I’m damned tired! ”
I told you.

You did not
reply
so I reckoned
you had not heard me.

I tried again:
“ I wonder when
I came home last night”
“I’m damned tired! ”
only this time louder,
so loud,
in fact,
I woke myself up
to sunshine through
palm leaves.

“What you say? ”
asked the two
piece bikini girl
in the hammock
next to me.

I turned to her
and smiled,
explaining it
to her
as best as I could
in the language
of black haired
chocolate tanned
beauties
“Oh, you dream”
she said, smiling.
“Guess I did”
I replied.
“Want go swim? ”
she asked me.

I shook my head
and yawned.
“Perhaps later..”
She got up,
kissed me,
and walked off.
I watched her walk towards
the ocean:
young perfection
in motion.
halfway there
she turned,
and waved
at me.
I waved back.

I then grabbed
this
pen and paper
to thank you
in the language of
old friends,
a century +
years later.

Thanks Friend.
Thanks for the ride.
Thanks.

poem by Carsten Thomsen
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The Promise made

In the presence of God
you promised to be
a loyal wife
to the man who asked you
to be his wife
until death do part
you promised
in the presence
of the witnesses
and God

Did you really
mean these words?
or was it just empty words?
days ago, you were still
in your old wild ways
from the one man to the next
pure lust night after night
without worrying
about the tomorrow's

Was this man standing
next to you aware of this?
when suddenly out of the blue
he asked you to be his wife
why did you say yes?

I pray that you have repented
from your ways wild
that forgiveness in Christ
was received from God

Have asked Him to be
your Personal Savior
that you have forgiven
yourself and others
have rid yourself
form the ways
of the sinful world

Then you will have
a blessed marriage
in Christ

if not...

Pain and suffering
in a broken marriage
will be the result!

poem by Allen Brodell
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On The Day That Pudsy Died

A cold fog from the mountain stole across the countryside
And cloaked the fields in greyness on the day that Pudsy died
She had survived many life's battles and she did not die easily
Like her I too must go the way of time whenever that will be.

Our dark brown cattle dog Pudsy to us devoted to the end
All of our family grieved for her she was a family friend
We buried her by our old home beside the cypress tree
And despite the passing of the years she lives in my memory.

More of a hunting than a cattle dog for fox and badger she went to ground
And she was the best fighting dog for miles and miles around
When challenged by another dog Pudsy never backed away
Though she never did start a fight that much of her one can say.

I watched her fighting many times and never see her beat
she was the champion fighting dog on our side of Millstreet
As a watchdog or a guard dog on her one could not depend
For Pudsy did love people she was everybody's friend.

A hairy rugged outdoor dog she did not mind it wet and cold
She even slept out in the rain though time had left her old
As an outdoor dog she lived and died and of her I can say
That she enjoyed the outdoor sort of life in her own happy way.

A cold fog stole down from the hill and cloaked the fields in gray
On the day our dark brown cattle dog old Pudsy passed away
Until the moment that she died as our friend she did remain
And often times in my memory I hunt with her again.

poem by Francis Duggan
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A Late Good Night

My lamp is out, my task is done,
And up the stair with lingering feet
I climb. The staircase clock strikes one.
Good night, my love! good night, my sweet!

My solitary room I gain.
A single star makes incomplete
The blackness of the window pane.
Good night, my love! good night, my sweet!

Dim and more dim its sparkle grows,
And ere my head the pillows meet,
My lids are fain themselves to close.
Good night, my love! good night, my sweet!

My lips no other words can say,
But still they murmur and repeat
To you, who slumber far away,
Good night, my love! good night, my sweet!

poem by Robert Fuller Murray
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There was a chap from South Africa
who drank way too much liquor
when asked by his wife -
to end his strife-
he merely sighed and promptly switched to vodka.

quote by by Otido Omukuba
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Death of Dusk

The sun resigns,
bleeds out the vestiges –
remnants of the day.

Exsanguination edges into twilight:
red-brown hangs;
upwards darkens:
blue-brown,
blue-black,
death-black,
disquiet – furtive,
like ghoul-ridden fog.

A sombre moon assumes its role,
gushing silver-white lymph upon the muted scape –
a prequel of supernatural undertones
to chill the scene,
ice the spine,
kill the brain –

we have unnerved the very firmament.

But now a shadow closing down the globe:
dinosaurian cloud shrouds the moon glaze,
claims the late hour –
declared in a dying crow caw.

I, the hidden owl
– nemesis of claustrophobic minds –
awake! for mammal flesh –
fresh, jerking out its warmth in dance of death.
Rock-still I perch in sculptured oneness
with my crooked night-tree,
emanating nocturnal allure.

Together we scowl
together we play the dark
upon the land and sky
and mind

while you lie as dead in your box.

Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010

dark dark dark dark night dark dark dark dark night
dark dark dark dark night
dark dark dark dark night dark dark
dark dark dark dark night dark dark dark dark night
dark dark dark dark night dark dark
dark dark dark dark night
dark dark dark dark night dark dark dark dark night

poem by Mark R Slaughter
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The Watcher on the Tower

I
The Voice of a Man

WHAT of the Night, O Watcher?

The Voice of a Woman

Yea, what of it?

The Watcher

A star has risen; and a wind blows strong.

Voice of the Man

The Night is dark.

The Watcher

But God is there above it.

Voice of the Woman

The Night is dark; the Night is dark and long.

II
Voice of the Man

What of the Night, O Watcher?

Voice of the Woman

Night of sorrow!

The Watcher

Out of the East there comes a sound, like song.

Voice of the Man

The Night is dark.

The Watcher

Have courage! There’s To-morrow!

Voice of the Woman

The Night is dark; the Night is dark and long.

III
Voice of the Man

What of the Night, O Watcher?

Voice of the Woman

Is it other?

The Watcher

I see a gleam; a thorn of light; a thong.

Voice of the Man

The Night is dark.

The Watcher

The Morning comes, my Brother.

Voice of the Woman

The Night is dark; the Night is dark and long.

IV
Voice of the Man

What now, what now, O Watcher?

The Watcher

Red as slaughter
The Darkness dies. The Light comes swift and strong.

Voice of the Man

The Night was long.—What sayest thou, my Daughter?

Voice of the Woman

The Night was dark; the Night was dark and long.

poem by Madison Julius Cawein
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