This afternoon
this afternoon
really boring
own quiet
no derisive yaour laughters
shouting
that I
cranky
but in the hearts
i love you
seriously
poem by Prasetya Utama
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I Love You
this afternoon
really I'm boring
my own quiet
no derisive your laughters
shouting
that I
cranky
but in the hearts
i love you
seriously
poem by Prasetya Utama
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Leave Those Cranky People Alone
It is best to leave those cranky alone.
It pays to leave those cranky people alone.
Leave those cranky people,
Seeking nothing but an evil.
You,
Just...
Leave those cranky people alone!
When you answer your telephone,
To stop a constant ringing.
Just leave those cranky people alone.
And all you hear is whining,
With a blues heard singing.
Just,
Leave those cranky people alone.
It pays to leave those cranky people alone.
It is best to leave those cranky...
Alone.
Don't condone it.
Leave those people alone.
Don't you try to own it!
Leave those people alone.
Don't,
Condone it.
Leave those people alone.
Don't you try to even own it!
Leave those people alone.
When nothing but complaints,
Drop out of their mouths.
Just,
Leave those cranky people alone.
It is best to leave those cranky alone.
It pays to leave those cranky...
Alone.
Keep your mind freed from heating.
Leave those people alone.
Don't you dare accept their beating.
Leave those people alone.
When you feel a headache brewing,
And you don't know what to do.
Hey..
Leave those cranky people alone!
In the morning when the Sun comes,
Shining on you bright!
Don't you turn away to get it out of your sight,
No!
Leave those cranky people alone.
Yes!
You've got to leave those cranky people alone.
Yes! Yes!
Leave those cranky people alone.
Yes!
You've got to leave those cranky people alone.
Yes! Yes!
Leave those cranky people alone!
In the morning when the Sun comes,
Shining on you bright!
Don't you turn away to get it out of your sight,
No!
Leave those cranky people alone.
Yes!
You've got to leave those cranky people alone.
Yes! Yes!
Leave those cranky people alone.
Yes!
You've got to leave those cranky people alone.
Yes! Yes!
Leave those cranky people alone!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Shouting...
i cannot sleep for this constant shouting...
the shouting of trees, the shouting of alleyways,
the shouting of rats crawling through trash.
the shouting of needles and Family Bibles,
the shouting of flags folded and given.
the shouting of machines, abandoned and morose,
the shouting of fields gone barren.
the shouting of poverty ripping color from being,
the shouting of hunger in faces silent.
the shouting of guns loaded and unloaded,
the shouting of clinics, filled without names.
the shouting of prayers wriiten in pavement,
the shouting of rivers filled with sewage.
the shouting of birth, and the shouting of death...
the shouting of love, distant and forgotten.
the shouting of god, in doubt's innumerable forms.
poem by Eric Cockrell
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The Poem Of The Afternoon Quiet Before Shabbat
THE POEM OF THE AFTERNOON QUIET BEFORE SHABBAT
The poem of the afternoon quiet before Shabbat
Is a peaceful poem -
Waiting and already resting
I try to remember those days
When Shabbat was Shabbat
In greatest joy and happiness-
But I am older now than I want to know
Shabbat has a quiet and music of a different kind
God can be served in old age also-
Let the family gather and the guests come
Let prayer be our music -
Joy is rest and quiet and peaceful family love also.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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An Afternoon Poem Is Rare
AN AFTERNOON POEM IS RARE
An Afternoon Poem is rare-
Afternoon is long after the first light-
Afternoon is a time of heaviness and quiet
A time of rest-
Afternoon is after the morning work has been done-
Afternoon is the weight of the day-
Afternoon is the time after the day has lost its freshness-
Still there must be afternoon poems-
There must be a beauty that emerges
In its own way,
Perhaps from where lovers meet
Perhaps from ‘ripeness is all’
Perhaps from the anticipation of evening
Perhaps from winter where it is the warmest time of day.
There must be afternoon poems-
Poems that celebrate all that warmth can bring-
Poems of rest poems of sleep-
Poems of waiting to believe
That in the evening
A new day and a new world
Will make life easier again.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Boring Lonely Day
What to do
On a boring lonely day?
How to have something to do
To keep the blues away?
I have got my papers sorted
And I am faced with a lonely boring day.
I cleaned my home yesterday.
From having a good and fun day,
I am thwarted.
The songs only make me sadder
I am having a boring lonely day.
All my games bore me now
Even when I win, it is a lonely boring day.
Having nothing to do
Makes for a boring lonely day.
And no one to do nothing with
That's the cause of the lonely boring day.
Now that I know the cause
Of my lonely boring days,
I can do something without pause
To cure my boring lonely days.
poem by Lonely People Champion
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This Day Will Not Come Again
'A sweet summer afternoon. Cool breezes and a clear sky. This day will not come again.
The young bulls lie under a tree in the corner of their field. Quiet afternoon. Blue hills.
Day lilies nod in the wind. This day will not come again. '
Thomas Merton, Conjectures of a Guilty Bystander
I expected the slight rise
in the east, the sky
growing slate, then
blushing pink and
suddenly blue.
The winter tree
is often
bathed in gold,
and the familiar song
of thrush and jay,
woodpecker's rapid tapping
brash geese
shouting,
are often the same
from one to another day.
But this sudden breeze,
freshening breath
of the butterfly,
the warmth
the joyful cry!
My God is here!
I breathe,
I sigh.
poem by Steven Federle
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Afternoon Tea
Tea time wont be the same without my donna
At night I lie awake and dream of donna
I think about that small cafe
Thats where we used to meet each day
And then we used to sit a while
And drink our afternoon tea
Ill take afternoon tea (afternoon tea)
If you take it with me (afternoon tea)
You take as long as you like
cause I like you, girl
I take sugar with tea (afternoon tea)
You take milk if you please (afternoon tea)
Like you talking to me
Because you ease my mind
Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba (afternoon tea)
Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba (afternoon tea)
Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba (afternoon tea)
Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba (afternoon tea)
Tea time still aint the same without my donna
At night I lie awake and dream of donna
I went to our cafe one day
They said that donna walked away
Youd think at least she might have stayed
To drink her afternoon tea
Ill take afternoon tea (afternoon tea)
If you take it with me (afternoon tea)
You take as long as you like
cause I like you, girl
I take afternoon tea (afternoon tea)
Every day of the week (afternoon tea)
Please come along if you like
Because I like you, girl
Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba (afternoon tea)
Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba (afternoon tea)
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Love Matters
May we move in ways known to mankind,
Tender hearts abstain from crying and shouting;
Inside the movie starts, followed by tears
Of shouting and descriptions abound.
Letters of love surround us in disgust,
Lulling the sadness once love has mastered.
One condition is better than a thousand,
That mutter some reply or a hundred statements.
Love is a matter too polite, a wedding of right,
Too many pains have been passed before the hour.
poem by Naveed Akram
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An Elegy for My Father
It was a boring Saturday afternoon when my father died,
I'd been listening to Buddy Holly on the radio and wasting my time,
Mucking about with a stanza or two and looking for a rhyme,
It was a boring Saturday afternoon the day my father died.
My mother had dementia and couldn't understand
That my father was dying and leaving her behind,
She thought he'd gone on a journey and she didn't really mind,
But she wanted him to come back to her and she didn't understand.
What really appals me is that no-one makes a noise,
Things happen that shake your heart but nobody beats a drum,
We do not even notice when the Angels of Darkness come,
And what really appals me is that no-one makes a noise.
Camus says 'each of us is born condemned to die' -
And I guess it certainly seems that way,
You fritter away your time on another boring day,
Measuring your life out with Buddy Holly tunes
Or pints of beer or even coffee spoons,
But I'm sick of all the philosophy and I want to cry.
poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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There is no singing anymore, everything is yelling and shouting and rapping and that is real boring to a guy like me.
quote by Sebastian Bach
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Battle Cry of Freedom- Union
Yes, we'll rally round the flag, boys,
We'll rally once again,
Shouting the battle cry of Freedom,
We will rally from the hillside,
We'll gather from the plain,
Shouting the battle cry of Freedom.
CHORUS: The Union forever,
Hurrah! boys, hurrah!
Down with the traitors,
Up with the stars;
While we rally round the flag, boys,
Rally once again,
Shouting the battle cry of Freedom.
We are springing to the call
Of our brothers gone before,
Shouting the battle cry of Freedom;
And we'll fill our vacant ranks with
A million free men more,
Shouting the battle cry of Freedom.-CHORUS
We will welcome to our numbers
The loyal, true and brave,
Shouting the battle cry of Freedom;
And although they may be poor,
Not a man shall be a slave,
Shouting the battle cry of Freedom.-CHORUS
So we're springing to the call
From the East and from the West,
Shouting the battle cry of Freedom;
And we'll hurl the rebel crew
From the land that we love best,
Shouting the battle cry of Freedom.-CHORUS
poem by George Frederick Root
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A Friable Autopsy Of Time
Decided to slice open I got up
Truly a decisive morning And thought of cutting open
Autopsied the yawning Morning's main body
That made it such Harsh lumps to the left
Why was it incisive Smoother to the right
Why did I think it wise Away I went
Yet uttered a demise Hoping to gasp at the midline
So fast and derisive And be thoroughly surprised
A flesh of time slain Perhaps even thrilled
My attitude truly hooked As I knew indeed
Blades were my hands That mornings were
Just bleeding strands A product
As I looked again looked Probably on rent
Yet again
But nothing was proven
And a thought was sowing
In the afternoon going /Afternoon seeds flowing
That I didn't learn much
Renting bodies each and every morning
Time was sliced open at 2: 46 AM almost by the end of summer 2010
poem by Francisco Reichd'Almeida
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Rally round The Flag
(traditional)
Yes, well rally round the flag, boys
Well rally round again
Shouting the battle cry of freedom
We will rally from the hillside
Well gather from the plain
Shouting the battle cry of freedom
The union forever, hurrah boys, hurrah
Down with the traitor, up with the star
While we rally round the flag, boys
Rally once again
Shouting the battle cry of freedom
We will welcome to our numbers
The loyal, true and brave
Shouting the battle cry of freedom
And although he may be poor
Not a man shall be a slave
Shouting the battle cry of freedom
So were springing to the call
From the east and from the west
Shouting the battle cry of freedom
And well prove a loyal crew
To the land we love the best
Shouting the battle cry of freedom
song performed by by Ry Cooder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If something is boring after two minutes, try it for four. If still boring, then eight. Then sixteen. Then thirty-two. Eventually one discovers that it is not boring at all.
In The Afternoon
The light is fading in the afternoon
Wont you see me baby in my room
Theres something that I wanna say to you
Tell me baby am I getting through
Wanna make, wanna make, wanna make, wanna make
Love to you
Wanna make, wanna make, wanna make, wanna make
Love to you
Wanna make, wanna make, wanna make, wanna make
Love to you
In the afternoon, in the afternoon
The light is fading from across the way
I see you coming baby every day
I see you running, running from across the field
And I wanna know if you can feel the same as me
Cause I wanna make, wanna make, wanna make, wanna make
Love to you
Wanna make, wanna make, wanna make, wanna make
Love to you
Wanna make, wanna make, wanna make, wanna make
Love to you
In the afternoon, in the afternoon
The wind is howling baby outside the shack
Train whistle blowin from across the track
Get on my wavelength, and you set me free
I just wanna be everything you want me to be
Wanna make, wanna make, wanna make, wanna make
Love to you
Wanna make, wanna make, wanna make, wanna make
Love to you
Wanna make, wanna make, wanna make, wanna make
Love to you
In the afternoon, in the afternoon
The moon is sinking way across the trees
I can see my baby but she cant see me
Ive got a longing deep within my soul
I have to take it there and let it roll
Wanna make, wanna make, wanna make, wanna make
Love to you
Wanna make, wanna make, wanna make, wanna make
Love to you
Wanna make, wanna make, wanna make, wanna make
Love to you
In the afternoon, make love in the afternoon
Make love in the afternoon
Let it roll
You got me reelin and a-rockinand rollin again
Let it roll
You got me reelin and a-rockinand rollin and rollin again
Oh, Im rollin and tumblin, and Im rollin and tumblin
And Im talkin all outta my mind baby
Let it roll
You got me reelin and a-rockin
And Im talkin all outta my mind
Im talkin all outta my mind
Make love in the afternoon
Make love in the afternoon
Make love in the afternoon
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Is There Anyone Out There?
Staring at the stars at night
it makes you wonder
if this is the only planet with life
in the vastness of space.
You feel like shouting at times.
Is there anyone out there?
People see things in the night sky
that they cannot explain.
Even in the daylight
mysterious objects appear unexplained
and all the time you feel like shouting.
Is there anyone out there?
Years from now when
we might have learned to listen,
we might find someone else
is really out there listening
to us shouting.
Is there anyone out there?
It is quite possible one day
in the truth we might find
that all the time we’ve been shouting
someone else has been out there
shouting back at us too.
Is there anyone out there?
21 February 2011
poem by David Harris
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Disco
every night is disco night
with you im living every moment for you
seeing things in a different way
of my god im thankful that youre leaving
is there something we can do, this afternoon
is there nothing left to say
oh your love, cautions you
you are something new
afternoon
ill make it up to somehow
im laughing and youre dancing like my mother
ill teach you to go off on me
shake, shake from the horror
mirror naked feeling hot
your radio is not store bought but stolen
another night is going out
its saturday and now youve got the fever
is there something we can do, this afternoon
is there nothing left to say
oh your love, cautions you
you are something new
afternoon
is there something we can do, this afternoon
is there nothing left to say
oh your love, warning you
and you are so beautiful
youll just have to do
is there nothing left to say
song performed by by Howie Day
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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That Summer Afternoon
That summer was not easy on us
But one afternoon the clouds came
And the shadows gave way to quiet light
As we walked to the park half regretting
Having cursed the heat
We were tired of summer, and afraid of winter
Lying by me, you read a book, occasionally
Turning your head to see what I was doing
But I was reading too
And I would bend over to your side
And kiss you lightly on the head
It was a quiet summer afternoon, and
We had all life can offer
The rest being vanity and excess
I flipped a page and turned to you
To kiss you on the head
It was the last of that hot summer
But winter would be warm
poem by Cesar Nascimento
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Foul Mouths Shouting
This magic we hold...
Comes from deep 'withinside' of us.
The moment our hearts began to beat...
That magic of life,
Began
To sweep us up in its wonder....to keep,
In wonder.
And so ungrateful we become,
Soon after that's done.
With a so too often shown...
Disrespect to be allowed.
And foul mouths shouting...
In someone's house.
And so ungrateful we become,
And soon after that's done.
Foul mouths shouting...
In someone's house
To cuss it!
For what it is,
And what it is not!
Soiled from the beginning.
And spoiled to aggrevate and annoy!
A lot!
Until there is conflict.
And it does come.
And so ungrateful we become,
And soon after that's done.
Foul mouths shouting...
In someone's house
And we re-act the way we've been taught,
To defend ourselves.
From those 'bad guys'.
With their differences...
Few make attempts to hide.
Foul mouths shouting...
In someone's house rise.
And we spy on 'them'...
To undercover their weak spots!
Making it easier to do them in.
To cuss it!
For what it is,
And what it is not!
Soiled from the beginning.
And spoiled to aggrevate and annoy!
A lot.
Until there is conflict.
And it does start!
And so ungrateful we become,
And soon after that's done.
Foul mouths shouting...
In someone's house
To cuss it!
For what it is,
And what it is not!
Soiled from the beginning.
And spoiled to aggrevate and annoy!
A lot.
Until there is conflict.
And it comes to start again!
Foul mouths shouting...
To cuss it!
For what it is.
Foul mouths shouting...
To cuss it!
For what it is.
Foul mouths shouting...
To cuss it!
For what it is.
To cuss it!
For what it is.
To cuss it!
For what it is.
Cuss it!
For what it is.
To Cuss it!
For what it is.
Cuss it!
Cuss it!
Cuss it!
Cuss it!
Cuss it!
For what it is.
To Cuss it!
For what it is.
Cuss it!
For what it is.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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