Surgery
Surgery
I sat on the bed in the hospital bed, dressed in a new pajama-
shiny and with dragons on-my wife had bought just for this
hospitalization, reading a newspaper, the surgeon came in,
said halloo told me his team was the best, reassuring smile
told me not to worry. A girl, in blue came, served me soup
and there was a sign on my bed that the patient should have
no breakfast. Triple bypass I struggled to think of something
grim like the hereafter and god, but was more alarmed about
this stupid war in Iraq. At dawn they gave me a pill, I read
a poem I had written about Marilyn Monroe which I liked;
then of for hours I was suspended in dreamless nothingness.
When I awoke I had lost the last trace of any religious beliefs.
poem by Oskar Hansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Retracing A Happening
Retracing a happening
Afternoon at the big hospital, far from home
I sat on my bed wearing a new pajama;
tomorrow, the surgery. From my window I could
see the zoo and cable cars going overhead so
punters could admire animals from above; but
think if a car fell into the tiger enclosure.
I had a packet of fags in the bedside drawer,
thought of sneaking into the loo, but someone
had removed the packet and lighter too.
I was in a strange mood, like I had hypnotized
myself and not me who sat on the bed like a lamb
that knows nothing of the morrow.
A brisk nurse came gave me a pill and a glass of
water, when I awoke my throat was sore, but
they wouldn´t give me water and I hated those
who had done this to me.
Three days later, a day in May, they let me go.
Dressed in shorts, open necked shirt I took a taxi to
the bus terminal. Driver helped me out of the car,
and I made slow progress up some steps to the ticket
office. A woman came helped me to find the right bus
and she carried my bag. Must have fallen asleep when
I woke up the bus had arrived to my home town and
took a taxi to the local hospital where the trek began;
my car was there but I could not drive it, chest too sore
and I worried about the stitches. A neighbour looked
after my dog feed and let her into the house at night.
The dog knew I was near so I took another taxi home.
glad to see me, she knew I was ill and didn´t jump up
and she slept in the doorway of the bedroom making
sure that no harm came to me.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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I loved the movies and I wanted to be like Marilyn Monroe. I thought she was so glamorous and everyone seemed to love her. I wanted to be like that and I told everyone I would be the next Marilyn Monroe.
quote by Sharon Stone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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No one ever told me I was pretty when I was a little girl. All little girls should be told they're pretty, even if they aren't.
quote by Marilyn Monroe
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Kaleidoscope and Harpsichord
As I've told my wife too many times,
the meaning of any poem hides
in the marriage of cadence and sound.
Vowels on a carousel,
consonants on a calliope,
whistles and bells,
we need them all
tickling our ears.
Otherwise, the lines
are gristle and fat, no meat.
Is it any wonder, then,
my wife has a problem
with any poem I give her to read
for a second opinion, especially
when the poem has no message
and I'm simply trying to hear
what I'm saying and don't care
if I understand it.
The other night in bed
I gave her another poem to read
and afterward she said this poem
was no different than the others.
She had hoped I'd improve.
'After all, ' she said,
'you've been writing for years
but reading a poem like this is
like looking through a kaleidoscope
while listening to a harpsichord.'
Point well taken,
point well said.
But then I asked her
what should a man do
if he has careened for years
through the caves of his mind
spelunking for the right
line for a poem
only to hear his wife say
after reading one of his poems
that it was like
'looking through a kaleidoscope
while listening to a harpsichord.'
What should he do-quit?
'Not a chance, '
she said this morning,
enthroned at the kitchen table,
as regal as ever in her fluttery gown
and buttering her English muffin
with long, languorous strokes
Van Gogh would envy.
'He should write even more,
all day and all night, if need be.
After all, ' she said, 'my line
about the kaleidoscope and harpsichord
still needs a poem of its own.
It's all meat, no gristle, no fat.'
poem by Donal Mahoney
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Magic Smile
There's a pretty girl
Somewhere in this world
Whose smile shines bright
Even when all's night
Even when I'm feeling down
Hers is a smile that turns me round
Shiny blue eyes drag you in
But her smile is what really wins
Her loose blonde hair looks fine
But her smile wins every time
If there ever was a smile
That seeing was worthwhile
Yours was it, a million bucks worth
None other like it on earth
Don't know if you know
But thought I'd let you know
About your magic smile
Cause its something worthwhile
Baby, don't ever lose it
Keep that smile on your lips
Smile that smile, that magic smile...
-
Story behind the poem:
This poem was written about a girl I know, who has a wonderful smile. Every time I meet her, she gives a smile that, well, looks genuine and makes you feel so welcome. There are other things about her that are attractive, but as the poem states, Her smile is what wins. Smiles are something we can all give for free, but only a few of us give them. Don't stop.
poem by Joses Tirtabudi
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The Angel
When my love and I decided to marry
she mentioned something new.
She told me she had seen an angel
more than a time or two.
I didn’t want to challenge her beliefs
even though I certainly did,
so I said perhaps it was her guardian angel
who would protect her while she lived.
She said the first time that she saw him
was when she died at the age of four.
She was in hospital suffering from pneumonia
and had knocked on heavens door.
As the medical team revived her,
the angel left with a smile and wave,
and she didn’t see him again until
the funeral at her mother’s grave.
The next time she mentioned him
was on our wedding day.
He was hovering above the aisle,
as her father gave her away.
He was there when our children were born
and present when her father died.
I told her he was a figment of her imagination,
just an illusion from her mind’s eye.
I asked her to explain his presence,
and what good did he do.
She said that he brought her comfort
and some meaning to her life too.
Today I saw two beautiful angels
at the graveside of my wife.
One of them was carved in stone,
and the other gleamed with life.
poem by Orlando Belo
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Do Not Read! ! !
Don't read this poem!
Turn back while you have the chance
Or you will regret it
This poem is a poem of darkness
This poem is a devourer of souls
It will destroy you
Consume you
Absorb you into its black depths
I tried to warn you
I told you not to read it
Why are you still reading?
If I had named it 'READ THIS POEM! ! ! '
Would you have even bothered?
This poem is pulling you in
It has your feet
It's eating you
It's shattering your soul
It's never going to let you go
It's murdering you
This poem is a murderer
It is a criminal, it is evil
It is unnameable, unbreakable, imperfect
This poem has you
It's too late for you now
There's no escape for you now
Too bad
This poem has you
This poem's devoured you
Yummm, good
This poem is satisfied now
You should have listened to me
But you didn't
And now the poem's taken you
You're dead.
You
This is a poem
I'm writing to you
I know you don't know me
But i feel like you do
By reading my stories
I've told you alot
Whatever i've lost
And whatever i've got
This could be real
Or this could be fake
Just give what you give
And take what you take
Thank you for giving
A minute of your time
To read what i've written
In this little rhyme
poem by Lucy Vernezze
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The trouble with censors is that they worry if a girl has cleavage. They ought to worry if she hasn't any.
quote by Marilyn Monroe
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Little Bird
Little bird up in a tree
Looked down and sang a song to me
Of how it began
Na na na na na na
Na na na na na na
Na na na na na na
The trout in the shiny brook
Gave the worm another look
And told me not to worry
About my life
Na na na na na na
Na na na na na na
Na na na na na na
Tree in my own backyard
Stands all alone
Bears fruit for me
And it tastes so good
Wheres my pretty bird
He must have flown away
If I keep singing
Hell come back someday
Dawn, birds still gone
Guess Ill go mow the lawn
What a day, what a day
Oooo, what a beautiful day this is
Ooooooooo
Little bird up in a tree
Looked down a sang a song to me
The trout in a shiny brook
Gave the worm another look
And told me not to worry about my life
Little bird looked down
And sang a song to me
Little bird looked down
And sang a songto me
Little bird looked down
And sang a song to me
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Aren't dreams great?
Some people say they don't have them
while others don't remember them at all
but I dream vividly every single night
and not just about women and Football.
A lot of my dreams can be really scary
like being chased by a giant Rat or Snake
or seeing a three headed alien being
and he's attacking me with a huge garden Rake.
I often dream about famous film stars
like Marilyn Monroe, Marlon Brando, Mae West,
I'm the leading actor and Hollywood heart throb
and Monroe whispers to me that I'm the best.
I often dream about children and animals
and they are usually jolly and full of fun
but I also have the occasional nightmare
when my little nephew turns into Atilla the Hun.
But we're told dreams are nothing to worry about
and it's not a sign that we are going insane
so that's really good news to me then
as last night I was Tarzan and my son was Jane!
poem by Kevin Halls
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Bring Me a Poem, Sing Me a Song
Sing me a song, read me a poem
Bring a poem, sing me a song
Sing me a "Je t'aime"
And don't stop reading the long
And beautiful poem that I composed for you
Oh! The moon is bright and the sky is blue
Keep on reading, keep on singing
Bring me the flowers of summer and spring
Keep on singing, keep on reading.
Canta me una bella canción.
Teach me a wonderful lesson.
Love is in the air, the poets are happy,
And the women at the beach are really pretty.
Bring me a poem, sing me a song;
This time, you cannot go wrong.
Sing me a song; read me a long poem,
So I can enjoy this fantastic season,
For the right and appropriate reason,
Because you just told me "Que tu m'aimes,
That you love me, Que tu me amas".
Tell me more; read me more, at last!
Sing me more, bring me more flowers,
More poems, more songs and more jitters.
poem by Hebert Logerie
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I found this obituary notice in the Paradise paper
The Philanthropist Sir Adolf Hitler
Died in a heart attack,
Burial on a full moon night
Corpse keeps for a month
In Queen's Parlor.
Visiting hours from 8A.M. to 9P.M
Except on Sundays.
I was shocked!
And I refered the Encyclopedia.
This is impossible
And a mistake too.
'That could be Pol Pot or Sadam Hussein.'
I told my friend who's reading the paper behind me.
Then he told;
'Not Sadam Hussein, he's in a better place beyond the heaven
A friend of mine in Iraq who received a greeting card recently for Iraq's welfare! '
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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My birthday was different this year
As I was rummaging through
the file boxes my wife had left for me
in the garage
I found a yellow legal pad
scribbled with hand written poems
I had written one night
in a almost crowded coffeehouse
waiting for a poet friend from Chicago
to come up north to read
The poems talked about
how I waited and waited
before too long
several anxious poets
ran up to the microphone
not afraid to trip over themselves
share their delicate poems
about romance and almost romance
detailing having a job they don't like
and it seemed to me
they were also not liking much else about their lives
besides their job they didn't like
My Chicago artist friend as usual
was more then an hour late
which isn't bad considering Chicago
is almost three hours away
so most other places
damn, she would have been early
When I read the poem
I wrote about being at a reading
I didn't want to be at
I realized I was spending my birthday
by myself in a coffeehouse
writing poems
not making much eye contact
with people I didn't even like
although one of the poets
I think Francine is her name
came up to me during a break and said 'hi'
but she didn't remember my name
or knew it was my birthday
and a couple of days after my anniversary
or that I was getting a divorce
that poem I read
was a good sign of things to come
because this year
on my birthday
I woke up with a new friend in my bed
multiple orgasms for her to share
before having a nice breakfast together
of eggs, sausage, hash browns and italian toast
cooked on the George Foreman grill
and things didn't look or feel
the same again
poem by Oscar Mireles
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438
To Choose Between A
Hot Breakfast Ready On The Table
And Finishing Another Poem
I Choose The Breakfast
Together With My Wife
This Poem Can Be Suspended
In Time
And Become Another Unfinished
Act Of Creation
By A Man Wanting To Fill This
World With Poems
After A While
When I Have My Fill And When
I Make Some Nice Conversations With My Wife
And My Dog Beside The Table
Looking At Me
For A Piece Of Fried Pork
When The Sipping Of Coffee Is Over
When I Finally Wipe My
Chin With The Sky Blue Napkin
When I Consider
Eating As Finally Over
As Promised
I Will Come Back Again
And Finish This Poem
And There Is Something
Nice In This
Act Of Creation
You Feel It
It Is Warm Like The Hand Of
A Beautiful Woman
It Is As Hot As Ever
Like This Wanton Desire
Lovely,
As Lovely As You Love Each Letter
Of The Word
Of Your Poetry
I Am Feeling It In The Bone
Of My Soul
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Should Have Never Told Me
You should have never told me
That you love me
You should have never told me, told me, told me
That you care
Ever since that day I saw your lovely face
You were on my mind
I knew that one day I would make you love me
It was just a matter of time
Every night and every day, girl
Im thinking of you
Girl, I cant believe youre mine
Way you kiss, youre right on time
Should have never told me
That you love me
You should have never told me, told me, told me
That you care
If by chance I owned the whole world
Id give it to you
All Im trying to say
Love you through and through
Girl, lets stay together for life
cause you are my sugar and spice
Should have never told me
That you love me
You should have never told me, told me, told me
That you care
Naw, baby
Oh, baby
Should have never told me
That you love me
Should have never told me, told me, told me
That you care
Should have never told me
That you love me
Should have never told me, told me, told me
That you care
Should have never told me
That you love me
song performed by by New Edition
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Should Never Have Told Me
You should have never told me
That you love me
You should have never told me, told me, told me
That you care
Ever since that day I saw your lovely face
You were on my mind
I knew that one day I would make you love me
It was just a matter of time
Every night and every day, girl
Im thinking of you
Girl, I cant believe youre mine
Way you kiss, youre right on time
Should have never told me
That you love me
You should have never told me, told me, told me
That you care
If by chance I owned the whole world
Id give it to you
All im trying to say
Love you through and through
Girl, lets stay together for life
cause you are my sugar and spice
Should have never told me
That you love me
You should have never told me, told me, told me
That you care
Naw, baby
Oh, baby
Should have never told me
That you love me
Should have never told me, told me, told me
That you care
Should have never told me
That you love me
Should have never told me, told me, told me
That you care
Should have never told me
That you love me
song performed by by New Edition
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Breakfast Is Ready
(7: 45 in the morning)
to choose between a
hot breakfast ready on the table
and finishing another poem
i choose the breakfast
together with my wife
this poem can be suspended
in time
and become another unfinished
act of creation
by a man wanting to fill this
world with poems
after a while
when i have my fill and when
i make some nice conversations with my wife
and my dog beside the table
looking at me
for a piece of fried pork
when the sipping of coffee is over
when i finally wipe my
chin with the sky blue napkin
when i consider
eating as finally over
as promised
i will come back again
and finish this poem
and there is something
nice in this
act of creation
you feel it
it is warm like the hand of
a beautiful woman
it is as hot as ever
like this wanton desire
lovely,
as lovely as you love each letter
of the word
of your poetry
i am feeling it in the bone
of my soul
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Poem
i like to read your poem
and i like to say it is a poem
there is a difference
of course
between the two statements
i like to read
it is your poem but i may
after reading
that
saying that i am honest though
and can distinguish a poem
from one that is not a poem
that your poem is one that i only
like to read
and may
say that it is not your poem
but it is yours you are sure of that
but what i am saying is that
i am reading your poem
but i feel that it is not
a poem after all
i can say one when i read one
so i just say i like reading your poem
which could not really be a poem
not even prose
i just like it
but it is not anything about what
i feel i like it to be
a poem or prose
i am reading it, it isn't
like this one for instance
you know that
now.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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All Nite Diner
Yeah, yes, yes
Have I told ya
You could really get it on?
I was at an all night diner
The sign said, "Triple X"
But they were talking about root beer
I'm just sitting down
Thinking about nothing
Looking at the thin air
Breathing up the oxygen
Have I told ya
You could really get it on?
A guy comes up, looking pretty 8-ball
Snaggletooth smile, sits down at my table
Puts his arm around me, starts to share his information
He said, he said, he said [x4] this is what he said
"I have sex, I'm always thinking about the pavement
So I can avoid premature ejaculation"
I got up, remembering to thank him
Better things to do so I'll start drinking
I'm in Tahoka, now I'm gonna hook up
With the parties, unfortunately
No one has any ideas, damn
Have I told ya
You could really get it on?
song performed by by Modest Mouse
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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