The Smile
At a cafe in Liverpool I sat eating bacon butty
washed down with milky tea, wife had left me
and I was feeling glum. A woman at a far table
looked at me and smiled. An overcast day, felt
as the sun had come out. I didn’t know what to
say or do so I looked out of the window rain.
Her boyfriend came, they left, but she sent me
another smiling glance
Knew I would be OK.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Related quotes
Stalker
The Stalker
Liverpool 1974 and it wasn’t raining, sat in a café, at the pedestrian precinct,
the coffee was awful, tasted like milky tea, when I saw her. She was daintily
munching a cheese sandwich with, and drank a cup of tea.Her skin was silky
she had green eyes, red hair and I just knew she was Irish. She looked up and
smiled. I panicked, and pretended to read “Liverpool Echo.” She waited for
me to make a move, paralyzed with shyness I could not. Finally she got up,
I followed; by the Victoria monument she took bus eight to Garston. Now it
was overcast and soft rain fell; she waved as the bus passed me. I thought
of following the bus in a cab to see where she got off, but it was no good
I had hesitated too long, whatever I did next she would think I was a stalker.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Hasty Marriage
Burden of a Hasty Marriage.
He saw her at the cafe she a cup of cacao and eating a cream cake,
he had a sandwich with cheese and ham. She looked up and smiled,
he knew she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.
Shy, as he was, still found the courage to get up and walk over to her
table and ask if he could eat his modest sandwich with her; she said
yes and they sat there in silence, just eating. Dimly he knew he had to
say something, but couldn’t but couldn’t find the words so he ate
the cup and saucer, the table cloth, serviettes and crumbs of her cake,
when he began eating the table she told him to stop. Ice broken he said
he loved her, she said she loved him, not to waste time they got married
in the afternoon. Found a hotel room and stayed in bed for a fortnight.
Made love in every position one could think of; they even forgot to eat.
Entwined they slept until a knock on the door, something about paying
for the room. For him was a welcomed distraction, got up had to go to
his bank he told her, two weeks in bed it stunk like a pig sty. Paid his bill
but didn’t enter their room, he was cured of love based on sex alone
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Real Art
Real Art
I woke up a blue neon light, outside my hotel room,
kept lightning up my space, I looked out and saw
a man in a cafe sitting by the counter eating a burger,
he had hat on and looked ca 1948.
Knew I was in an Edward Hopper painting but didn’t
want to be a part of his bleak cityscape of lone men
who live in cheap hotels and drink coffee in a cafe,
which clientele are lost souls like me.
I splashed water in my face adjusted my tie put my
hat on and walked out, a cab drove by looking for
a fare, I opened the cafe’s door, the man with hat had
gone, drank coffee and ate a doughnut.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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the Touch**********************1979
i looked up into the deep blue sky
little white clouds were floating by
i looked upon this young girls face
she held it down in disgrace.
i looked upon her cheeks so fair
she looked up to me to see if i care
i looked at her with content
and she knew right there it was heaven sent.
she smiled at me, and our eyes then touched
we knew then, it was much to much.
our hearts entwined and her lips met mine
we felt right there it was a love divine.
poem by Louis Rams
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What Max Wanted
What do you want from me?
Max's wife said
and he looked by her
at the waitress
at the cafe
who was walking
with some order
behind his wife's back
and he noticed
the cute ass as she moved
the way she swayed
and the hands
holding the tray
huh? What is it
you want from me?
his wife repeated
her eyes peering at him
taking in
that aspect of him
as he turned his head
look said Max
following the waitress
to the table across the way
his eyes slowly
undressing her
his mind making up scenes
like in some movie
you say come on Honey
let's go out for a meal
and talk
and what are you doing
looking elsewhere
and not talking
his wife said
spittle on her lower lip
Max looked back
at his wife and said
oh yes sure
I was thinking
of the Picasso print
we saw the other day
you know that one
we both liked
and you said you'd like it
for your birthday
well maybe
I ought to get it
what do you think?
And the waitress
looked over at Max
as she went by
and he saw
a whole new ball game
in her eyes
and caught the cheek
and ear
and was sure
he captured some aspect
of her perfume
and his wife said
Picasso?
That Picasso?
are you sure Max?
and she went into a daze
and smiled
and Max imagined himself
and the waitress
and sex games
and a party
going wild.
poem by Terry Collett
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A Double
Everyone has a double
at least that is what they say.
I am beginning to believe it
after what happened yesterday.
My wife and I went shopping
and to the checkout, we went.
Then I stopped and felt hesitant,
the cashier, a young girl looked familiar,
but it couldn’t be,
for who she looked like lived thousands of miles away.
Everything about her
from the style of her hair
and the glasses she wore,
even the way she smiled
looked the spitting image of a friend I speak to on the internet.
The resemblance was uncanny
and I almost called her by friends name.
She made me take a second glance
to make sure.
I know it wasn’t my friend who lives in America,
she was younger than she,
but she certainly looked like her.
When they say now everyone has a double,
here is one now that believes.
19 November 2008
poem by David Harris
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Memories of Love
I still remember the day I met you,
You were sitting in a cafe, with a friend or two.
You looked up at me,
With those big eyes of yours.
And I could suddenly see,
I was in love for sure.
We hardly talked,
Just standing there.
You just looked at me,
And of the world, I became unaware.
I left a moment later,
I was to meet a friend, I met her.
But my thoughts were still with you.
dreamed of those moments few.
With a heavy heart the next day,
I passed the same old cafe.
But you were still sitting there,
As if u had appeared out of nowhere.
I blinked my eyes to make sure,
But you didn't disappear.
Instead jumped up with a smile,
And I felt like dancing for a while.
We sat down together,
In that misty weather.
And talked for hours on end,
ill darkness decided to descend.
Oh! What a day that was,
I will never forget because,
That day I realized,
Love is heaven on earth in disguise.
poem by Dipti Date Gokhale
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Says Mister Doojabs
Well, eight months ago one clear cold day,
I took a ramble up Broadway,
And with my hands behind my back
I strolled along on the streetcar track—
(I walked on the track, for walking there
Gives one, I think, a distinguished air.)
'Well, all of a sudden I felt a jar
And I said, 'I’ll bet that’s a trolley car,'
And, sure enough, when I looked to see
I saw it had run right over me!
And my limbs and things were so scattered about
That for a moment I felt put out.
Well, the motorman was a nice young chap!
And he came right up and tipped his cap
And said, 'Beg pardon,' and was so kind
That his gentle manner soothed my mind:
Especially as he took such pains
To gather up my spilt remains.
Well, he found my arms and found my head,
And then, in a contrite voice, he said,
'Say, mister, I guess I’ll have to beg Your pardon,
I can’t find your left leg,'
And he would have wept, but I said,
'No! no! It doesn’t matter, just let it go.'
Well, I went on home and on the way
I considered what my wife would say:
I knew she would have some sharp reply
If I let her know I was one leg shy,
So I thought, on the whole, ’twould be just as well
For my peace of mind if I didn’t tell.
Well, that was the first thing in my life
That I kept a secret from my wife.
And for eight long months I was in distress
To think that I didn’t dare confess,
And I’d probably still feel just that way
If it hadn’t come ’round to Christmas Day.
Well, in good old customs I still believe,
So I hung up my stocking Christmas Eve;
(A brand-new left one I’d never worn.)
And when I looked in it Christmas morn
There was my leg, as large as life,
With a ticket on it, 'From your wife.'
Well, my wife had had it stored away
In cotton, since last Easter Day,
When she ran across it, quite by chance,
In the left hip-pocket of my pants;
And the only reproachful thing she said
Was, 'Look out or some day you’ll lose your head.'
poem by Ellis Parker Butler
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What The Priest Said
What a Priest told me.
I was young, fourteen, late at night, I was hasting home, jumped over fences,
crossed a garden when I saw a naked woman by the fireside, wood fire casted
a warm glow on her body, washing herself with a cloth she dipped into a sink
bucket placed on a chair in front of her. She slowly cleaned her arms, neck,
breasts, legs feet and finally she washed the part where legs meet the body.
All in slow caring motion. She put a kimono on sat down and opened a book,
after a few minutes she put the book down looked out of the window, I was
petrified and hoped I looked like a bush, she smiled, to me or herself, I shall
never know. At this point I hastily left, woozy, confused and in love. Later
I saw her at the grocer’ she had bought flowers, looked up and smiled at me.
Of course I didn’t know, at the time, that she was one of Ruben’s women put
there to tempt me into a life of infidelity forever seeking perfect, chaste love
and not involved in the physical side that smells of under- arms transpiration.
If I see one of Ruben’s women, and she smiles at me I now her love is a dream
and with aching heart and regret I walk away.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Who
(berry blue/rob bowkett)
Who left my lover in the rain
Who washed away the colors in my life again
Who left my lover in the rain
Who washed away the colors in my life
Theres no use crying, trying hard
What else can I do
But he becomes another man
Another case of fool
Why go on living and giving up
Much more than I receive
Its taken time to realize
But now Ive opened my eyes to you
Who left my lover in the rain
Who washed away the colors in my life again
Who left my lover in the rain
Who washed away the colors in my life
But who is right, who was wrong
When love just fades away
It couldve been me, it couldve been you
But now I never find out who
Who left my lover in the rain
Who washed away the colors in my life again
Who left my lover in the rain
Who washed away the colors in my life again
Who left my lover in the rain
song performed by by Diana Ross
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rachel and You and The Day Trip
It was a day trip out
to some seaside place
arranged by the Gospel church
for kids whose parents
were poor
and having got on the coach
you sat in a seat
by the window
and waved at your mother
standing on the pavement
along Rockingham Street
and she waved back
then this girl sat beside you
who you didn't know
and she smiled and said
all right if I sit here?
sure
you said
and looked back out
at your mother
and waved again
and she waved back
and you thought
who is this girl?
and why is she
sitting next to me?
and she looked at out
the window
and waved to her mother
who started talking
to your mother
and they both waved back
to you and the girl
and you said
do you want to sit
by the window?
and she said
ok yes that'd be nice
and so she got out
and you got out
then she got in
and sat
by the window
and you sat
down beside her
and then the coach
started up
and drove off
and you both waved
at your mothers
until they were out of sight
and the girl turned
and said
I'm Rachel
this is my first time
to the seaside
and you said
you can walk around
with me if you want to
and she said
that'd be good
I don't know
anyone else here
and so she did
all day
walked around with you
along the beach
and on the sands
making sandcastles
and in the cafe
where they took you all
for a meal
of fish and chips
and she talked
and talked
and smiled
and laughed
and once she took
hold of your hand
and it seemed
for a while
that she was happy
at least it seemed so
by the width of her smile.
poem by Terry Collett
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Ignored. (a Seagull Story)
Ignored. (A seagull story)
At the seaside restaurant it was busy everyone was eating lobsters,
I tried to catch the waiters’ eye. I was ignored and got the feeling
that I was Invisible, or that I was so small that my head didn’t reached
over the table. A seagull landed on my table a beautiful bird,
yellow beak and feet, plumage snowy white its wings light grey/blue
and its eyes were green; it also had the aroma of the Atlantic Ocean.
Waiter came, looked at the bird asked what it wanted, lobster, I said
when the dish came I gave it to the bird. Got up, left and no one tried
to stop me.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Still Smiling........
Smiled When Mother Took Me Into Her Arms For The First Time,
Smiled When Saw World Outside The Hospital For The First Time,
Smiled Whenever Went To School,
Smiled Even Being Laughed At....
And Called A Fool....
Smiled When Stood First In The Class,
Smiled When I Wasn't Misunderstood..... At Last!
Smiled When My Poem Was Said Wow!
Smiled When Realised That Only Day Is Today....
And Time Is Now......
Smiled When Got My 'True' Love,
Smiled As I Always Felt We Are Two Doves,
Smiled Even When Came To Know He's Not Mine,
Smiled Even When He Married My Friend.....
And Raised A Toast Of Wine,
Smiled Even When Lost Every Hope,
Smiled Even When Wasn't Able To Cope,
Smiled Even When Knew My End Is Near,
Smiled And Enjoyed Cutting My Nerve.......
No Fear...............
Smiled At Every Moment Of My Life,
Whenever, Wherever And Never Cried.............
But Now, I'm Lying Under A White Cover,
Father Putting Me On Fire.........
With No Blessings Left To Shower.....
People Around Have Nothing To Do With My Death
But Are Crying.........
And I'm............
Still Smiling.................................
poem by Apurva Jain
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i was just behind you at Mc Donald's
don't get mad, i was really there
but you did not notice since you were surrounded with handsome men.
Medical reps i supposed so
With vested interests.
You had the pepperoni pizza and cocacola
And you added caesar's salad
There was laughter on that table
Obviously, you were enjoying it.
I was alone at Table 10.
Reading a newspaper.
I took time looking at the road
Over the glass window.
When you left with them
I counted, all five, I merely smiled.
There is such thing as
delicadeza, and I still have it with me.
When i texted you
You said you were waiting at Maria's Cafe.
It was enough. You lied
and what will you expect from me?
Tell me.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Don't Forget to Write Your Funeral Plan
Michael Jackson's 'SMILE' played, as the coffin entered everyone stood tall
Mum's poem was read and felt by all
The Mourners were smiling at the photo's of Mum
As the DVD played, no one was glum
Happy pictures were played of Mum's life with a tear
To the tune of the music 'If I Lay Here'
Friends got up for the Eulogy
Wonderful Words spoken of Mum... Now free
Free to move on, to follow a new life
Happy if Dad, finds a new wife
Everyone looked like they were enjoying the moment
In a room full of love; as if Heaven sent
For Mum was so kind and by all adored
Yet sadly the Funeral Conductor looked everso bored
He looked like he had something better to do
This was just a job and he really didn't care just who...
Who had died Or who was grieving
About the life of this person or the world they were leaving
So... Make sure you write.. Your Funeral Plan
It saves pain for the family, A real helping hand
You can choose your Funeral Home, coffin, Cemetery and your music too
It will take away some pain Of losing you
Talk Over Tea.
Janice's gran
had left the room
to fetch another
pot of tea
and Janice said
Are you coming on
the day trip to the seaside?
I'm not sure
you replied
Oh please do
Janice said
Then we can be together
and I won't have to spend time
with those giggly girls
from the gospel group
you looked at her fair hair
and the way her eyes
were on you
and how precise
her lips were
when she spoke
I'm not sure my parents
can afford it
you said
Oh it's free for kids
whose parents are poor
she said
And after all
it's part of the point
of the whole thing
to show Christian values
and so on
and she smiled
and put her hand
on yours
under the table
as her gran came in
with the teapot
What are you two
talking about?
Gran asked
putting the teapot
down on the table
Janice's hand
squeezed yours
under the table
Oh just about the day trip
to the seaside
Janice said
Are you going too?
her gran asked you
you hesitated
and then said
Yes I think so
and Janice looked at you
her blue eyes bright
and she said
Isn't that good Gran?
Yes indeed
her gran said
and poured tea
into your cup
and added milk
and sugar
and Janice's hand
left yours
and the absence
of the warmth
of her hand
felt like
a dying world
in a vast galaxy
or drowning
in a deep blue sea.
poem by Terry Collett
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The Girl Who Held Your Hand
You got on the coach
for the day trip
organized by the chapel people
for kids who were poor
and this girl
sat next to you
and said
you can be my boyfriend
for the day
and she took hold
of your hand
and gave it a squeeze
and you looked out
of the window
at your mother
standing there
looking up at the coach
and you thought
is this part of the deal?
Is this girl for real?
And Mother waved
and smiled
and you smiled
uneasily back
with the girl’s hand
holding yours
out of sight
and she looked
over your shoulder
and waved
but no one
waved back to her
because her mother
wasn’t there
maybe she was off somewhere
or had to go to work
or maybe
she was still in bed
with another uncle
beneath the sheets
and maybe
he was holding her hand
and she was holding
something you never knew
or cared about
just sitting there
waving to Mother
beneath a sky of blue.
poem by Terry Collett
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Within Your Arms
living in the world I’ve created in my dreams for you and me
I didnt understand that anything could happen
when you take a chance
I never believed it before I was in your arms
I never opened my heart to what I couldn’t see
I didn’t want to see all the possibilities
there could be
there should be between you and me
I know something is different in me
I’ve never felt this way
this could be the start of something deeper
it felt so right to be in your arms
when I looked into your eyes that one night
I saw that same need
that same want
that same drive
that I was feeling inside
who ever thought I would have met you here tonight
you’re the last thing I expected
the world looks so much brighter within your arms tonight
I can see the day though the night
you have reached deep inside me somewhere and started something new
cause I know I’ve never felt this way without it being you
you’ve unlooked some kind of new and more passionate feeling
I never knew it could happen until it happened to me
I never knew it could have happened like that
I never knew it could be that strong
so fast
I thought it would take more time
I didn’t know but now it’s easy to see
if only you just looked into my eyes you would have saw
you could have seen that I would be loyal to you
you could have had your way with me right then and there
I wanted you to take me away
I wanted you to have what we wanted
I was ready for you to
I dare not to say it out loud
dare not to even think it for you might see it in my all telling eyes
only feeling my body telling me that I was ready
ready for you
and ready to tell you I’m willing to stay in your arms for ever
poem by Mrs. Cynosure
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We washed my car
It was a warm summers day
We washed my car outside
Talking, laughing, splashing
We washed the car with pride
You looked so cute and sexy
With soap suds in your hair
I stopped and smiled at you
And yes I had to stare
You looked at me and frowned
Oh how I loved that look
I laughed and simply smiled
You in my arms I took
Our hands were wet, so was the kiss
Our tongues were warm inside
Your body mine aroused
Your awesome smile so wide
We threw the sponges down
Together as fell
Wet and cold entwined
We kissed without a tell
poem by Bradley Lester
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Love's Young...
They were young lovers, and seated at the table in the window;
where in Paris they'd be watching
the passers-by watching them...
but no.
He was silent, unyielding; but uncomfortable;
she with her head buried in his shoulder,
and pale as a damsel
in some stress.
I thought at first, they've had a long night
and she tired first...
but no.
They looked at me as I took the table across from them
as if I were a threat to their lovers' bubble
of unhappiness
not quite fully demonstrated...
Their order came.
He'd ordered a huge steak platter each;
and with his male priorities,
tucked in with vigour
eating with his elbows
which made it difficult for her
to maintain her body code
so leant her head behind his shoulder blade
uncomfortably
and left her meal untouched;
he undaunted;
one sensed a sympathy held sternly
by a sense of moral support;
it was not unbecoming
to another male...
but she was getting nowhere
and his was a large and satisfying steak.
Finally, she pushed her plate away.
I must say, she played the lovers' code
just right; not overdone,
not underdone, just medium please.
Minutes later
he went off to the Gents.
And then she gave the game away.
Sat up, mind clear, looked out the window
and very, very nearly
did all those feminine things
done at such a time.
O lady, lady, in thy orisons
be all thy sins remembered.
But they left together;
as if with a common purpose.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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