En.Citatepedia^®.ro

In That Slum Of A Neighbourhood

IN THAT SLUM OF A NEIGHBOURHOOD

In that slum of a neighbourhood
you were the Butterscotch Man.
Old. East Indian. Sikh. Kind.
Long white beard and hair
pouring out of your turban.
And as I can remember you now
fifty-four years later
you were a cloud circling the peak
of Mt. Sumeru
the world mountain
that walked among children
handing out one hard butterscotch candy to each.

You're always there in my childhood
on the corner of Douglas and Hillside
by the totem-pole telephone booth
everyone jimmied for change,
reaching deep into
your tattered sports coat pocket
with a look of gleeful gratitude on your face
that the light had smiled upon you like a child
asking for a candy.

We were too busy playing for keeps
to know how or when you died.
One day we just knew you did.
And we broke into your small ratty house,
that crutch of a box that could barely stand,
and we saw how poor you were
so much poorer than us
and even though you had an address
here in Canada among us
and stared out through the same windows
at the same demeaning day
at the doors of the desperately poor as we did,
how inestimably far you really were from home
and how alone.

There was so little to steal
who could have robbed you?
But I remember the strange calendars
no one could tell the time by in Sanskrit
shedding the pictures
of the same unnamed goddess
in flaming sunset colours
like the petals of a lotus with its eyes closed.

I can't forget the calendars.
Or how we went on looking
for large hairy black wolf spiders
hiding in the darker corners
of your abandoned rooms
we could dropp hot match-heads on
to watch them run like startled wicks.

Some kids grow up like saplings.
We grew up like sticks.
But that one butterscotch candy
you were always good for
like some unknown kindness
we could infallibly depend on
however the rest of it hurt
has kept on releasing its sweetness in me
over the years
like some philosopher's stone
that rolled down from a very high mountain of a man
that still stands before me in his turban
even at this distance
through the bluing of time.

I can still see you on any clear day
like snow-capped Mt. Baker on the horizon
across the Straits of Georgia
all the way to Washington State
from the southern tip of Vancouver Island.

And if you were alive now
I would thank you better than I ever did then
when we approached you like a bird-feeder
apprehensively as birds.
You were handing out
your wisdom your life your light
the largesse of your spirit
without words.

Now I've come back alone
for all of us who've gone our different ways
like the wind and the waves
and the heavy clouds
of the world we shared back then,
some to prison
some to god knows where
and some to early graves
like the seeds of bad beginnings.

And it's not that I want to set things right
because things are never really wrong
to a strong mountain
that knows how to stand on its own
among humans
without blocking the light
and there never was a time
whenever I saw you as a child
I didn't look upon you with delight.

But now as a man
I see you as a long dark night
streaming with stars down the Himalayas
like the eternal Ganges whose waters
I imagine myself standing by for your sake
to throw my heart in
like that shoot of a rose of blood
you rooted in our ancestral starmud
like a Taj Mahal of light in the slums
of a North American night on earth
where the children who went to bed
in that cast-off neighbourhood
like unanswered prayers
stoically beyond their years
like prodigies of disappointment
brutally acquainted with the dark side of Santa Claus
wondering why they weren't worth much
to the people who were supposed to love them,
remembered you
and how much of the world can be saved forever
like the taste of kindness
in a half-finished butterscoth candy under a pillow
as hard as stone
dreaming of a huge big-hearted mountain
that thawed the milk of human kindness
to run down our lives like the lifelines
of the melting ice-cream cone
you looked like to us in your turban.

Thank-you.
May this rose of a poem
find you everywhere
like the children's eyes
you opened like moments of light
to star in a dark world
as if every one of those timeless moments
were the lifespan of one of your many afterlives
handing out candies on the corners
of all the myriad worlds
where the children run to your shining
like children of the morning
with eyes as bright as morning dew
to greet the Butterscotch Man
and pry open his fingers
like the sun on Kashmiri flowers
to see what he's got in his hand
that would taste like love on the native tongue
of any land as wise and old
and as compassionate as his forever is.

Or as ours was then
unfeelingly young by ten.
So thank you.
Thank-you from all the children of when
the world was a shabbier place
than this homelessness of now
but somehow you always managed
to corner a little kind place for each of us
in that spacious heart
that seemed to understand
how to stand forever before us
in a turban of snow
like a sacred mountain
in the body of an ageing holy man
as if the deepest secret of life
were as childishly simple
as a hardrock candy in the open hand
of the Butterscotch Man in a turban.

PATRICK WHITE

poem by Patrick White
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Man's Best Friend

Once, there was a dog
Who lived in a zoo.
His name was Butterscotch,
And he loved bones to chew.

He would roll over
Every time I came by,
And he would sit up
If I offered a French fry.

Butterscotch was the best,
But sometimes he was bad.
He would chew on my shoes
And the purse that I had.

Not only that,
He would act so crazy.
He would go 'Bark! '
Or he would be lazy.

One day, we had blackbirds
Fly near his cage.
Butterscotch barked
At blackbirds out of rage.

This dog was a nut,
And he was so loud,
That he could make the wind
That scared away clouds.

Sometimes Butterscotch
Might act the wrong way.
However, I remember
'Every dog has its day.'

Butterscotch is so cool,
He will do what he is told.
He does so many tricks.
He is nowhere near old.

Do not forget
That a dog is a man's best friend.
In fact, he just might make it
With you to the end.

poem by Rebecca Ryan
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Children Of The Moment

CHILDREN OF THE MOMENT
June 30th- July 1st,1983 2: 00 a.m. – 4: 30 a.m.

Children of the moment, everywhere you look,
You see the visions of the world as it once was.
Clouds hide the light,
of the reflection of a star,
As it shone two thousand years ago. Light years away.

Children of the morning, everywhere it’s spring,
And you see new life all around you, as the old life’s passed away.
The leaves of yesteryear have died,
beneath the winter’s snow, now gone,
revealing seeds reborn. The promise lives.

Children of the music, everywhere you turn,
You hear the rhythm of a song that has no end.
Whispered in the wind,
And on the water, voiceless words of love,
Transcending all that is, and is to be.

Time after time, you hear the call,
The gentle beckoning.
But walking in your sleep you disregard.
In you mind, you rationalize,
The mysteries of your heart.
Don’t fall………flights of fantasy.
Don’t fall………the ice is oh so thin.
Don’t fall………the slender thread of time,
That flies more swiftly than you realize.

You must learn to see without your eyes.
Try to see beyond the veil of stars.
Believing in the obvious, yet unseen might.

Children of the fountain, watering the ground.
Children of the mountain, take a look around.
Children of the earth, children of the sky.
Children of the Father can help you realize.
Time…….after time.

Children of the Father, everywhere you go,
You see the tears of those who roam this planet lost.
Standing on the cosmic shore,
They’re staring out to sea,
Awaiting rescue from the stars. ………an S.O.S.
Time after time,
You throw the lifeline, but they turn away.
They feel your end is weighted with a stone.
But ignorance is no defence, it hurts to see them drown.
Don’t cry, because they won’t believe.
Don’t cry, you word contains a seed.
Don’t cry, remember winter’s snows,
That melt, revealing seeds reborn in hope.

You must learn that faith is eyeless sight.
Believing in the obvious yet unseen might.
Perceiving love beyond the veil of starry skies.

Children of the hypocrite, can see the truth in lies.
Children of the infidel, draw sympathetic eyes.
Child of the saint, may grow confused, outside his door.
But in his heart he knows there’s a reward worth waiting for.

Children of the liar, wake yourselves and rise.
Children of the fire, aren’t blinded by you lies.
Children of the ancient will one day dry their tears.
Children of forever need never count the years.

Children of tomorrow may never get the chance,
As spring becomes the fall, to see the seasons as they dance.
Child of the soldier knows that freedom’s bought with pain.
Children of the empire will send them back again, and again.

poem by Albert Ralph
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The Negro Mother

Children, I come back today
To tell you a story of the long dark way
That I had to climb, that I had to know
In order that the race might live and grow.
Look at my face -- dark as the night --
Yet shining like the sun with love's true light.
I am the dark girl who crossed the red sea
Carrying in my body the seed of the free.
I am the woman who worked in the field
Bringing the cotton and the corn to yield.
I am the one who labored as a slave,
Beaten and mistreated for the work that I gave --
Children sold away from me, I'm husband sold, too.
No safety , no love, no respect was I due.

Three hundred years in the deepest South:
But God put a song and a prayer in my mouth .
God put a dream like steel in my soul.
Now, through my children, I'm reaching the goal.

Now, through my children, young and free,
I realized the blessing deed to me.
I couldn't read then. I couldn't write.
I had nothing, back there in the night.
Sometimes, the valley was filled with tears,
But I kept trudging on through the lonely years.
Sometimes, the road was hot with the sun,
But I had to keep on till my work was done:
I had to keep on! No stopping for me --
I was the seed of the coming Free.
I nourished the dream that nothing could smother
Deep in my breast -- the Negro mother.
I had only hope then , but now through you,
Dark ones of today, my dreams must come true:
All you dark children in the world out there,
Remember my sweat, my pain, my despair.
Remember my years, heavy with sorrow --
And make of those years a torch for tomorrow.
Make of my pass a road to the light
Out of the darkness, the ignorance, the night.
Lift high my banner out of the dust.
Stand like free men supporting my trust.
Believe in the right, let none push you back.
Remember the whip and the slaver's track.
Remember how the strong in struggle and strife
Still bar you the way, and deny you life --
But march ever forward, breaking down bars.
Look ever upward at the sun and the stars.
Oh, my dark children, may my dreams and my prayers
Impel you forever up the great stairs --
For I will be with you till no white brother
Dares keep down the children of the Negro Mother.

poem by Langston Hughes
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Love Poem

Yours is the face that the earth turns to me,
Continuous beyond its human features lie
The mountain forms that rest against the sky.
With your eyes, the reflecting rainbow, the sun's light
Sees me; forest and flower, bird and beast
Know and hold me forever in the world's thought,
Creation's deep untroubled retrospect.

When your hand touches mine it is the earth
That takes me--the green grass,
And rocks and rivers; the green graves,
And children still unborn, and ancestors,
In love passed down from hand to hand from God.
Your love comes from the creation of the world,
From those paternal fingers, streaming through the clouds
That break with light the surface of the sea.

Here, where I trace your body with my hand,
Love's presence has no end;
For these, your arms that hold me, are the world's.
In us, the continents, clouds and oceans meet
Our arbitrary selves, extensive with the night,
Lost, in the heart's worship, and the body's sleep.

poem by Kathleen Jessie Raine
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Looking At Stars From Spy Rock

Looking at stars from Spy Rock
on top of Foley Mountain,
Westport glowing like an alloy
of red algae and fireflies down below
around the sacred pools of small mouth bass
raised from fingerlings
to lure the fishermen of Hazelton Pennsylvania
to this pioneer pantry of wildlife up north.
I can remember you naming them out loud
like Santa Claus’ reindeer.
Deneb, Vega, Al Tair.
And I tried hard to look
but I couldn’t take my eyes off of you.
And I’m up here again by myself many years later
and there are two ghosts on the wind
casting their shadows on the Milky Way
two black holes in time
that took it all in
then disappeared.
We didn’t separate.
We just evaporated into thin air
and I can hear the flowers saying
in their small damaged voices
I’d rather die than put up with this time of year.
Semi-hibernating raccoons
and the occasional brown bear
looking for a last snack before sleep
before snow
before the flame of life
is turned down so low
it’s merely a candle living off
the lifespan of its own fat
just long enough to keep the dream
of what bears dream about alive
until hunger drives them out of their caves
twelve thousand years later
into a world they can no longer recognize
as the one that dressed up in their hides and their skulls
and spit-painted on their cave walls
and appealed to their power not to kill it outright
as it begged forgiveness for its trespass.
Bear magic on Foley Mountain.
Ursa Major in starlight.
And for awhile I thought you might be
my circumpolar girlfriend
and I could be your mystic star map.
You had the right ascension as me
but the wrong declination
and like everything else
that’s ever led me out of the wilderness
like the only direction left to go in
you rose and set over my event horizon
and what had been the fixed stars of my eyes and heart
wandered off like fireflies and chimney sparks
into a darkness I could only imagine
enhances your shining somewhere
like a warm breath of life and light
hovering in the cold night air
as mine is exorcised here.
We breathe the stars in
and then we breathe them out
and it’s been going on like this
for thousands of light years.
Three more nights
and the moon will catch up to Jupiter.
You said you couldn’t be famous
standing in my shadow
but what you didn’t realize at the time
I was the shadow of your shining
whenever you approached the earth
like Venus on a moonless night.
But how remote it all seems now.
Encounters of the human kind
reverting like the unploughed fields around here
to something intimately alien and wild.
We embodied all these stars once.
We stood here on this mountain once together
and breathed these vacant interstellar spaces in
as if we could hold all of space and time
like a single dropp of insight
into the circuitous blossoming
of our riverine hearts
and oceanic minds.
And what myth of spring fish
could fathom our depths
though it jump like Pisces into the boat?
Up here in my eagle-eyed eyrie
do these receding hills at my feet
remember anything as vividly as I do
as the sound of your voice when you spoke
and the mountain came down prophetically
like an avalanche of stone tablets
across the ups and downs
of the road that led us up here
to look into the empty beyond
as far as the light
we were given given to go by
whether it be the hundred billion stars
of Messier thirty-one
two million light-years away
like the sister galaxy you are to me tonight
just this smudge of light at eleven o’clock
above the middle star
of the constellation Andromeda
or a firefly in the spider mount of a parabolic mirror.
Sometimes you can notice things more clearly
that you can see head on at the time
out of the corner of your eye
as you look away from your line of sight
astronomical units of light later.
I have come back to those moments
from so long ago
like time with an expanded field of vision
of wildflowers dying all over the mountain
like cornflowers in the grave of a Neanderthal
incarnadined by red ochre
though none were ever buried here
we still share this common ground of death
or Indian tobacco at the eastern gates of theburial hut
of an Algonquin who once stood here as I did
and gazed upon the moon in wonder
estranged by the wound of the rapture
just moments before he disappeared for good
into the bone-box of his having been here once
to amaze his solitude with precipitous stars
looking up from the godless pulpit of Spy Rock.
The cedars sway in the wind
like children learning to swim beside a pool
ploughing the air with their arms.
And the shadows tremble
like the waters of life
inside the heartwood of a rootless tree
the moon ripples with forgotten springs
that once made the fish jump at fireflies
wavelengths out of reach of their eyes.
Sight is a kind of love.
As above so below
like the palindrome of the moon goddess Anna
in the Arabic jana
the English heaven
and the Greek ouranos
Romanized into Uranus analeptically.
O what a brutal exchange.
All that life and light and love
all those stars
all that seeing
just to exhume a few dead metaphors
and breathe a little life into them
as if you were giving
mouth to mouth
heart to heart
spirit to spirit
resuscitation to words
that once saw their whole life flash before them
before they drowned
up to their necks and out of their depths in stars.

poem by Patrick White
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Hard Candy

On certain Sundays in November
When the weather bothers me
I empty drawers of other summer's
Where my shadows used to be
She is standing by the water
As her smile begins to curl
In this or any other summer
She is something all together different
Never just an ordinary girl
And in the evenings on Long Island
When the colors start to fade
She wears a silly yellow hat
That someone gave her when she stayed
I didn't think that she returned it
We left New York in a whirl
Time expands and then contracts
When you are spinning
In the grips of someone
Who is not an ordinary girl
When you sleep
You find your mother in the night
But she stays just out of sight
So there isn't any sweetness in the dreaming
And when you wake the morning covers you with light
And it makes you feel alright
But it's just the same hard candy
You're remembering again
You send your lover off to China
Then you wait for her to call
You put your girl up on a pedestal
Then you wait for her to fall
I put my summer's back in a letter
And I hide it from the world
All the regrets you can't forget
Are somehow pressed upon a picture
In the face of such an ordinary girl
When you sleep
You find your mother in the night
But she fades just out of sight
So there isn't any sweetness in the dreaming
And when you wake the morning showers you with light
And it makes you feel alright
But it's just the same hard candy
You're remembering again
Again 4X
It's just the same hard candy
You're remembering again
Again 4X
And it's just the same hard candy
You're remembering again
Go ask her to come around
And see me late after dark
Don't ask me to come around
Then wait to if there's a spark
3X

song performed by by Counting Crows from Hard Candy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Candy Girl

When you were 17 and I was 19
We feel deep in love growin up in queens
We didnt know a thing about love
We was innocent, sneakin on the doorstep to hug
Held you tightly and promised you the world
You gave me hickeys and said you was my girl
When I think about it now it makes me smile
cause I aint felt these butterflies in a while
Funny how you grow up and innocence fades
We used to live for love but now were afraid
{of what? }
Of the darkness and bitter memories
Lovers who crushed us through infidelity
I promised you Ill love you to the end
Always and forever, since way back when, uh
Youre like candy,
The worlds sweetest friend
You taste better now than you did back then
You will always be my candy
[be my]
One day we will start a family
You will always be my candy girl
[you will always be my]
(youll be my candy girl forever)
You will always be my candy
[yes, you will]
I want your love girl understand me
[yes, you will]
You will always be my candy girl
(Im down for whatever)
While you suck caramel apple lollypops
Rain, sleet, or snow Im troopin up the murdock
We used to walk down the block, hold hands
I would get you after school cause I was your man
And, any guys that wanna socialize
Just know that imma flip on any cat that tries
My peeps used to say I was whipped
All your girls said, since you got with him you flipped
But, uh, they couldnt feel the feelings we felt
Mirrors on the ceiling we melt
I would look up at ya
I remember the afternoon you surrendered
We made love,
Your temperature was high as could be
You said, todd, promise you aint lyin to me
And as we went our separate ways you turned back
Smiled, I remember all that
You will always be my candy
[be my]
One day we will start a family
[yes, we will]
You will always be my candy girl
[candy girl, youre my]
(my candy girl forever)
You will always be my candy
[alright]
Want your love girl understand me
[understand me]
You will always be my candy girl
(okay, take it to the bridge)
Candy girl
You are my world
[are my world]
Look so sweet
Youre a special treat
[sweet]
Candy girl
(mmm, mmm, mmm)
All I want to say
I need your love
Each and every day
When Im alone in my room,
Sometimes I stare at the wall
And in the back of my mind,
I hear my memories call
For days when love was true,
I slept and held you
Taste the brown sugar,
Let your climax melt you
Candy,
Youre occupyin all of my thoughts
Turned my soul upside down with lessons you taught
I could feel you
Even when youre far away youre right here wit me
Sweet love strictly
And imma bend over backwards to keep you on my side
Take you for a mental and emotional ride
Make love to your soul,
Your heart, and your mind
In your hour of need, girl,
Ill be there every time
And as long as you support my dreams
Stayin right beside me as a part of my team
Imma take you where the average man can only dream of
cause in a world so sour I got the sweetest love
You will always be my candy
[youll]
One day we will start a family
You will always be my candy girl
[my candy girl, candy girl]
(youll be my candy girl forever)
You will always be my candy
[youll will always]
Want your love girl understand me
[true love, hey, hey]
You will always be my candy girl
{i love you too}
(Im down for whatever)
Candy girl
You are my world
[candy, candy]
Look so sweet
Youre a special treat
(youll be my candy girl forever)
Candy girl
All I want to say
(word is bond, sweetheart, I swear)
I need your love
(Im down for whatever)
Candy girl
(I love you baby, I love you baby)
(sometimes you gotta go back home)
Look so sweet
(yeah)
{i love you}
Candy girl

song performed by by New Edition
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Stand Where The Listening Begins

I stand where the listening begins
as if my voice were just another one of the echoes
and my tongue were the tip of an edgy precipice
that doesn't dare make a move
over an immeasurable abyss of eyes
that nobody belongs to.
This is a seeing that's older than the stars
that were born of it
like a mirror is born of the shining.
Like a body is born of the mind
and takes on the shape of a universe
as an expressionist gesture of classical reserve.
In the great ocean of being before it turned into everyone
our eyes weren't beaded like two drops of water
strung through our nose
like a statement we were trying to make.
They were waves.
Waves of water.
Waves of light.
Waves of thought and feeling.
They were waterbirds that came and went
without leaving.
They were meteorological events
in the emotional life of the sea
when it played alone with itself like weather.
We didn't evolve hands to prove we had a grip on things.
We didn't evolve brains to prove we were intelligent.
We're not nuggets of insight
panned from the mindstream
that runs down the world mountain
in a rush of gold.
I stand where I can hear the night
breathing like a shadow in its own darkness
and whatever I am not
is as real as whatever I am.
And my sorrows dropp away
like the black fruit of ruined bells
and my joys know a freedom
no holy war ever deserved.
Here my death answers to my life
and not the other way around.
My beginnings are not justified by my ends
and my solitude is so wholly itself
it embraces everything
as if it were space
and time were its only friend.
This is a poetic state.
A dynamic mode of creative annihilation.
This is a phoenix blooming in its own fire.
This is life.
This is the universe full of bright ideas
that come to it like stars in the darkness.
This is the white mare of the full moon in the high field
with the gates open
like wings growing out of her shoulders.
This is a space that is so spontaneously immediate
that you receive the reply
long before you've even asked the question.
It doesn't take thousands of thoughtyears
for the light to get here.
A flower blooms.
A star comes out.
It's as simple as that.
You lift one veil of the mystery like an eyelid.
Nothing has a history.
The old man remembers nothing.
The old woman forgets her name.
Once they were seabeds of meaning.
Now they're just water.
And everything is ok with that.
People go grey
and turn into clouds in the mountains
just to catch the last of the light
and give their lives some colour.
And then it's night again
and the dancing chandeliers of the stars
that are burning like legends
to make a name and a myth for themselves
fall like constellations to earth
and shatter like the rainbows of youth.
Every dawn has a taste of the sunset in it.
What's the end of anything
if not the dark side of its beginnings?
I am the fool of a freedom
that lets things be whatever they want to be
deep within the heavy fruit of a compassionate heart
that ripens in its own lucidity.
There are worms.
There are birds.
There's a green star in the apple core.
My skin is the chameleon of the sun going down.
I know how to swim through stone and water.
There are fish in my treetops
and birds in my roots
and when I drown
it's the sun in the sea
and nothing ever really goes out.
Everytime I open my mouth to sing
this is where the muse
puts a finger to her lips
to teach me what I'm talking about.
I'm a star when I write.
First I let go of the light.
And then the children point fingers at me
and say in mutual recognition
of the stories they make up on the go
there you are
just as we foretold.
It's the same way with water
when it's lost in a desert of sand and stars.
Sometimes it takes a mirage to find your way home.
Death gapes like the jawbone of a mummy
and writes like a pyramid
as if it wanted to make all things last forever.
But when life picks up the pen
around the fires of the stars
to whisper into its own ear
things that only solitude
can suggest to the night
its poems are always tents on the move.
The moon sailing paper lifeboats down a river
like waterlilies
blooming in the pale flames
of their lunar immolations
as if each were a white phoenix
rising above its own ashes and smoke
like someone dreaming of swans.

poem by Patrick White
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Candy Lady

Candy lady keep selling the candies to the children here at home
Because the children here at home loves to buy candy
Specially from you everyday here at home
Candy lady the candies that you sell to the children taste just like Heaven to them

poem by Aldo Kraas
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Candy

Candy
Its a rainy afternoon
In 1990
The big city geez its been 20 years-
Candy-you were so fine
Beautiful beautiful
Girl from the north
You burned my heart
With a flickering torch
I had a dream that no one else could see
You gave me love for free
Candy, candy , candy I cant let you go
All my life youre haunting me
I loved you so
Candy, candy , candy I cant let you go
Life is crazy
Candy baby
Yeah, well it hurt me real bad when you left
Im glad you got out
But I miss you
Ive had a hole in my heart
For so long
Ive learned to fake it and
Just smile along
Down on the street
Those men are all the same
I need a love
Not games
Not games
Candy, candy, candy I cant let you go
All my life youre haunting me
I loved you so
Candy, candy , candy I cant let you go
Life is crazy
I know baby
Candy baby
Uou uou uou
Candy, candy, candy I cant let you go
All my life youre haunting me
I loved you so
Candy candy candy
Life is crazy
Candy baby
Candy baby,
Candy, candy

song performed by by Iggy Pop
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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So Like Candy

Here lies the powder and perfume
The pretty clothes are scattered round the room
And its so like candy
Here lies the lipstick and the face
The coloured tablets keep it all in place
And its so like candy
So like candy
Chorus
What did I do to make her go
Why must she be the one
That I have to love
So like candy
Here lies a picture of a girl
Her arms are tight around that lucky guy
And its so like candy
And in her eyes a certain look
I thought Id seen the last of long ago
And its so like candy
So like candy
Chorus
I remember the day that picture was taken
We were so happy then
But thats so like candy
She seemed so sweet to me I was mistaken
Oh no not that again
But thats so like candy
She just cant face the day
So she turns and melts away
Here lie the records that she scratched
And on the sleeve I find a note attached
And its so like candy
My darling dear its such a waste
She couldnt say goodbye, but I admire your taste
And its so like candy
So like candy

song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Patteran

From over the leagues of ice and snow, and the miles of scorching sand;
From back of the days of long ago, and the lonely sea and land—
To the end of the world and our Gipsy race, to the death of our dark-eyed line,
I have set the lines on my children’s palms as my fathers did on mine,
That the world shall know and my name shall glow in the light of the aftershine—
I have set the lines on my children’s palms as my fathers did on mine.
I have given them health and strength, pure blood, clear skins for a glorious youth;
I have set in their souls contempt for sham, and a deathless regard for truth;
I have bequeathed the spirit to fight, I have given the will to rise,
And the slumbering fires of Hate and Love in their dreaming, dreaming eyes.
That the world shall know and my name shall glow in the light of the aftershine,
I have set the lines on my children’s palms as my fathers did on mine.

I have given the love for their native land, wherever that land may be
(My children came from the East, my friends, and round by the Northern Sea),
And a son of a son of mine enemy, to the end of his treacherous line,
Shall be stricken to earth, if he dare but speak, by a son of a son of mine.
That the world shall know and my name shall glow in the light of the aftershine,
I have set the lines on my children’s palms as my fathers did on mine.

poem by Henry Lawson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Dead To The Living

Work while it is day: the night cometh, when no man can work.

IN the childhood of April, while purple woods
With the young year's blood in them smiled,
I passed through the lanes and the wakened fields,
And stood by the grave of the child.
And the pain awoke that is never dead
Though it sometimes sleeps, and again
It set its teeth in this heart of mine,
And fastened its claws in my brain:
For it seemed so hard that the little hands
And the little well-loved head
Should be out of reach of my living lips,
And be side by side with the dead--
Not side by side with us who had loved,
But with these who had never seen
The grace of the smile, the gold of the hair,
And the eyes of my baby-queen.
Yet with trees about where the brown birds build,
And with long green grass above,

She lies in the cold sweet breast of earth
Beyond the reach of our love;
Whatever befalls in the coarse loud world,
We know she will never wake.
When I thought of the sorrow she might have known,
I was almost glad for her sake. . . .
Tears might have tired those kiss-closed eyes,
Grief hardened the mouth I kissed;
I was almost glad that my dear was dead
Because of the pain she had missed.
Oh, if I could but have died a child
With a white child-soul like hers,
As pure as the wind-flowers down in the copse,
Where the soul of the spring's self stirs;
Or if I had only done with it all,
And might lie by her side unmoved!
I envied the very clods of earth
Their place near the child I loved!

And my soul rose up in revolt at life,
As I stood dry-eyed by her grave,
When sudden the grass of the churchyard sod
Rolled back like a green smooth wave;
The brown earth looked like the brown sea rocks,
The tombstones were white like spray,
And white like surf were the curling folds
Of the shrouds where the dead men lay;
For each in his place with his quiet face
I saw the dead lie low,
Who had worked and suffered and found life sad,
So many sad years ago.
Unchanged by time I saw them lie
As when first they were laid to rest,
The tired eyes closed, the sad lips still,
And the work-worn hands on the breast.
There were some who had found the green world so grey,
They had left it before their time,
And some were little ones like my dear,
And some had died in their prime;
And some were old, they had had their fill
Of bitter unfruitful hours,
And knew that none of them, none, had known
A flower of a hope like ours!

Through their shut eyelids the dead looked up,
And without a voice they said:
'We lived without hope, without hope we died,
And hopeless we lie here dead;
And death is better than life that draws
Pain in, as it draws in breath,
If life never dreams of a coming day
When life shall not envy death.
Through the dark of our hours and our times we lived,
Uncheered by a single ray
Of such hope as lightens the lives of you
Who are finding life hard to-day;
With our little lanterns of human love
We lighted our dark warm night--
But you in the chill of the dawn are set
With your face to the eastern light.
Freedom is waiting with hands held out
Till you tear the veil from her face--
And when once men have seen the light of her eyes,
And felt her divine embrace,
The light of the world will be risen indeed,
And will shine in the eyes of men,
And those who come after will find life fair,
And their lives worth living then!
Will you strive to the light in your loud rough world,
That these things may come to pass,
Or lie in the shadow beside the child,
And strive to the sun through the grass?'

'My world while I may,' I cried; 'but you
Whose lives were as dark as your grave?'
'We too are a part of the coming light,'
They called through the smooth green wave.
Their white shrouds gleamed as the flood of green
Rolled over and hid them from me--
Hid all but the little hands and the hair,
And the face that I always see.

poem by Edith Nesbit
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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We Are The Children Of The World

(p. castro/m.a. kelly)
Waiting on the wings
On the wings of time
Wonder whats to come
And what we will find
Dancing on a dream
In the magic of our mind
Reaching for the sun
As long as it shines
Living day to day
While were on our way
Well find were already there
We are the children
We are the children
We are the children of the world
Underneath the blue
In a solitary light
Guiding by a star
A star in the night
The enemy we see
Is the enemy inside
Knowing we can win
Without knowing why
Wed be lost in hope
While we search for more
We find were already there
We are the children
We are the children
We are the children of the world
We are the children
We are the children
We are the children of the world
How many times do we look to the sky
Knowing weve nothing to lose
We are the children who wanted to fly
Now we can fly to the moon
We are the children
We are the children
We are the children of the world
We are the children
We are the children
We are the children of the world

song performed by by Diana Ross
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When I landed in Coney Island

I was in luck because Candy sat alone
in Kansas Fried Chicken.
She possessed the soul of a poet
and the body of a sex goddess,
but things had not gone well for her,
I was sure of it,
even though she never spoke
about the details of her life.
“How do you feel? ” I asked.
“Snowing, ” she said,
“just your kind of weather.”
“Yeah.”
“Where’d you get this liking for the cold? ”
“I told you I was born in Siberia.”
“Last time you said Outer Mongolia.”
“They’re close.”
Just then Irving trudged in.
I nodded to him
and he sat at our table.
“I got to have an operation on my leg, ” he said.
“The third one. Diabetes.
After my wife died
everything went bad.
And where I’m living they don’t give heat! ”
“Call Housing, ” said Candy.
“BUMS, ” he exploded leaping to his feet,
only to plop down a second later.
“I had a hard life.
I didn’t ask for a hard life,
but I had a hard life.
My two children I hadda bury...
all sorts of pain.
I force myself to go on—
Memory...what a torment!
Do I make sense? ”
“Yeah, ” said Candy softly.
“The plug has been pulled.
I’m in the bottomless hole! ”
Candy closed her eyes,
breathing deeply, words almost
ready, but not yet.
Irving going on, “I can see why
there are suicides…”
“No, ” gasped Candy.
“Yesterday I fainted twice
trying to tie my left shoelace.
Such a thing! Go know
God hates me. I never knew. Now I know! ”
“Do you need a few dollars, Irving? ” Candy asked,
“to get a good meal.
It’ll cheer you up.”
“Another life! my darling.
Can you help me with that? ”
Candy staring at Irving, lips quivering
perhaps now, then: my mother did it.”
The words out. Silence.
Snow everywhere. Streets covered.
Finally. “Bernstein, get a pint of cherry liqueur for the hotel
and a bag of chips and a ginger ale.”
“Between a man and a woman
I don’t interfere, ” said Irving,
dragging his flesh into the blasting snow.
I raced after him
and slipped a five dollar bill into his hand.
“Which way is Paradise? ” he whispered.
“The next step, ” I blithely proclaimed,
then went half way down the block
to get the stuff for Candy.
When I returned
she brushed the snow from my beard.

poem by Charles Chaim Wax
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Far Too Little I Know

I

Far too little I know about the things that lie between us,
I see the sea drawing back and rushing in,
I know too little to tell you about my love,
see your tracks disappearing over a sand dune.

I know too little to talk about a secret,
how one day can be so very special,
filled with life changing meaning,
about the things that I read in your eyes

but that that you really love me,
I know before the sea wipes our tracks away
when I kiss you and get you giggling,
while we give new steps into life

when you became the meaning in my small universe;
if you were the light falling through the window on me.

II

If you were the light falling through the window on me,
a star shining at night against the sky,
I would have been able to admire you, in days without end
but now thunder flashes down

whiter than daylight into my life
becoming part of my life,
to again jump to somewhere else
as if single moments are everything

and far too short was the time that you could stay,
with almost endless cheerfulness that you could bring
in this tough world as part of me,
where my heart could sing songs of joy

and far too little time I had invested in you,
how should I have known that I would make an oath with you?

III

How should I have know that I would make a oath with you
before I met you,
have a concept of such intimate feelings,
as with which you are part of my whole world?

How must I have know the meaning
of faith, love and hope
and about professing of true love
before our lives started together

on ways that I could not expect
and could learn to love
past events, years and times reaching to maybe,
that you are part of everything in me?

I want to love you as in days long past,
in the winter of my life.

IV

In the winter of my life
when all the trees around me stand skeleton,
with stripped branches shivering in the wind,
with sometimes a thunder bashing down

I sometimes remember the look in your sea-green eyes
where colours so secretly come together,
even when my body bend like branches, bended by age
as if in my thoughts they are looking forever at me,

it’s as if a new spring just have got to come,
as if your arms surround my neck,
with you flowering anew
as a angel of light

it’s sometimes as is you are with me,
when the morning starts with its first rays.

V

When the morning starts with its first rays,
with the sky changing from twilight grey to blue,
hang with the moon still hanging white
I am caught like a lizard

that prays to the sun,
where it’s rising white hot,
where I sit before your photograph
that shows every bit of your beauty,

but the nights and months past
while every day you look back
from that photograph
and I wonder if you still do love me?

and I think certainly, you are just as pretty,
when the sun throws its last rays over the trees.

VI

When the sun throws its last rays over the trees,
drawing shadows out long
before it reaches out
with long orange red rays

and the streetlights suddenly are awakening
give eyes to poles, becoming orange yellow
then I know
that you are somewhere else and just as pretty,

that you are laughing somewhere else,
caring after your children, doing your duties,
stretching yourself out for the night,
after kissing your children goodnight

and I am really longing while I am waiting,
I miss the way that you laugh in pleasure.

VII

I miss the way that you laugh in pleasure,
how you cry for a beautiful movie,
even expecting something good out of poor things,
how on a dark rainy night you shelter against me,

the way that you look at me,
the feelings that you bring to me,
as if you’re green eyes shines like the sea,
with every word going into my depths

but time takes an own road
and destiny is without mercy,
where at a time we both had to go different directions
and still try to jump over horizons with words

and maybe I have to court you again anew,
far too little I know about the things that lie between us.

poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Child in Man's Clothes

I wonder if people understand the snow
With its ability to recall all we know
To remember like motion pictures shows
Its great power to wash away grieve and pain
When so often others seem to make them remain

So on the night of that falling gentle white
I stopped to reflect, to remember and watch
I was able to recall the wonders of my children, our snow ball fights
And banish to the back
The long ago nights of anquish and frights

It was like then I was playing with my children
Laughing, giggling, love, and our snow fights
It was there during the building of snow forts
Snow caves, snowmen and those snow fights
That I learned what God wanted
Souls to be free
To choose life
What ever we'll be

I think of another given
That God would never force me to heaven
So when it snows I stop what ever I'm doing
Put on my shoes and coat
Go out and play in the snow
Make a few to throw
Even if only at a pole

Last night I smiled and said thank you God
For I felt something on the inside, that God was pleased
Because He wouldn't force His love on our minds
Yet in namless ways taught me about love, good, and kind

So as I came in for the night
The memories of my children, the snowball fights
I sighed and turned on a light
And there on the table stood a cup of hot coco-
Another thing I loved on these nights
Surprised that my wife had been watching
Seems that she knows what I'm like

A child in man's clothes

poem by Clyde Bryson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Good Earth

When I was a child and the road was dark and the way was long and alone,
My heart would lift as I turned the bend and saw the lights of home.
Now high above in a silent sky,
In a still and starry space,
A man looks down on the earth below,
And that blue and green and shining glow,
To him is the lights of home.
Its the good earth, yes the good earth.
Its a land of sun and rain and snow,
And mulberry trees and mistletoe,
And burning plains and raging seas,
And sunday morning taking your ease,
Watching your children grow.
Its the good earth, yes the good earth,
Where we fought and loved and killed and died,
And ruined and ravished the countryside,
But now, from a million miles away,
From another world thats cold and gray,
Someone is able to look and say,
Thats the good earth.
So isnt it time we stopped the tears?
Weve lived together for thousands of years,
And whether Im wrong, and whether youre right,
Whether youre black, and whether Im white,
One day well stand on the edge of the world,
And someone will ask us the land of our birth,
And well look into his eyes and quietly say:
Its the good earth, yes the good earth.
Why cant we be good on the good earth?

song performed by by Monkees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There is No 'there', When One reached There! !

Running after Truth,
went on pilgrimage,
From here to there,
From there to someother
From one place to other,
Madurai to Tirupati,
Arunachalam to Himalayan,
Haridwar to Hrishikesh,
Amarnath to Kedarnath,
Kashi to Mathura
Jeruselem to Kaba!

There to place left on Earth,
which is not holy,
Each place is holy,
Made holy by caring hearts
carrying the Truth!

Everywhere, may be unknown forest,
valley or mountain,
Plateau or desert, shore or ocean,
I saw footprints of men of God,
Air in atmosphere, water in lake and ocean,
All sanctified by his name,
Not only saw the faith in peoples heart,
But also glowing light everywhere,

May be in one or in many,
Many faces of one I saw,
Everywhere it is holy,
May be in crawling earthworm,
May be in worm in gutter,
Or may be in smiling face in a mansion,
Or weeping hungry faces in huts,
May be round bright faces of cute children,
Or may be in eyes of dried skin of hungry skeleton,
I saw the light,
Light of him in their hope and faith!

I saw his face in Sun, or his image in lake,
May be in Lotus or lilly,
May be in hundred storied building,
May be in light of palace
Or hut with oilless lamp,
may be in power of an emperor or in helplessness of a begger,
May be in a child or its toys
Ah! Truth has so many path,
Pathless I became!

Wandering in this woods of dark world,
Where light hides or may be blinding light made me blind,
those look dark, may not be dark,
Those who look bright may not be bright!

When some how reached 'there',
None was there, even I or he,
Light or dark,
In fact no one to say,
this is that or
this is where you intended to reach!

The mystery of mysterious remained a mystery,
But when I looked back the light appeared,
And in that light I found everyone,
The beloved waiting for loved,
The cot on which flowers spread,
Lover waiting for beloved,
Weight of love being,
more than heart can bear
When beloved came,
face of lover became one among flowers,
Nay all flowers shined with love,
Reflected smiling face of Truth,
Love is secret of creation,
More to say every face of life is face of beloved Lord,
The Lord in disguise is life!

There was no 'There' when I reached there,
All was here and now,
and here alone his
faces can be seen,
In father or mother,
Or the child which is in everyone
neither born nor grow old,
Never can die,
We, who have so little time,
are devoted to the One
who has all the time.
We search to find
and be that Timeless One who is all time no
other than the Deathless One
He is that who feel and think,
Who has reasons and reasoning in Him!

poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Candy Kisses

I've never meet somebody like you
that will do all the things that you do.
every night when I go to sleep
when my heart skips a beat
by the way that you kiss me.

ooh now I see
this is the way that life supposed to be
me and you
you and me
I don't ever want you to leave
because you gve me...........

candy kisses
all over me
'I dropp them candy kisses on mrs'

like a kid in a candy store
always wanna come back for more.
he's my sugar daddy
im his candy girl
we got the sweetest love in the whole wide world.

poem by Rek.r Alday Bang.n
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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