A Coiled Water Hose
hopelessness -a coiled
Water hose has forgotten
That it should whoosh
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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hopelessness -a coiled
Water hose has forgotten
That it should whoosh
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Pleasures In Giving
this morning
you take the water hose
turn on the faucet
you squeeze the hose
and water is spread on the bush
flowers are thirsty
for those nights without rain
an early morning shower from your
water hose
gives the feast on every leaf, on every branch
on every cracking soil of this earth
it is the pleasure of giving
that makes your heart dance
with the clouds.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mirrors Of Our Time
THE ECONOMY is a hose.
The Government collects water from the people
and pours it into the top of the hose
and gives it back to the people.
Near the top of the hose is a hole.
A lot of the water pours out of this into a tank
marked Government which is always empty.
The rest flows down towards the people.
It passes other holes marked
Government Agencies
Government buildings
Government contingencies
Government perks
There are also holes marked
Lawyers
Accountants
Criminals.
The Government is always trying
to stop these last three holes.
Finally what is left of the water
reaches people at the end of the hose.
The people fight over it
(it is never enough) .
When they get very thirsty they start
to throw stones at the government
and threaten to sack them.
The government then reluctantly
pours more water into the top of the hose
(which they get from the people) .
Finally when the people are very thirsty indeed,
under the leadership of the
Lawyers
Accountants
and other Criminals,
they attack the tank marked Government
and break it open.
It is always empty.
Then many of the people die
(except for the Lawyers, Accountants
and other Criminals.)
The survivors go off and look for a new well,
drink as much as they can
as quickly as they can
and wait for a new Government to find them.
poem by Brian Taylor
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I've figured out what to do so far, but it's always the next thing you come to where the man with the bucket of ice cold water is waiting - whoosh! in your face. That's why you work with directors who know what to tell you to do.
quote by Judi Dench
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hopelessness Is The Hell That Always Returns
HOPELESSNESS IS THE HELL THAT ALWAYS RETURNS
Hopelessness is the hell that always returns-
We try to dream our way out
We fight with small ordering actions
That tell us we can still move-
We seek to find our way in work
And flow in it –
Small conversations may help-
We seek to be suddenly be lifted up by
Surprising perceptions of nature’s beauty –
Though we know
Love the only true answer.
But hopelessness never dies
It comes back again and again
Older and weaker our power to resist is less-
Just this morning lost in hopelessness
I thought all was lost
And now here I am
Trying to quite weakly
write my way out of it
yet again.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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On Wet Feet
on wet feet
from the spilled
water of a
broken hose
you begin
to write on
a theme
something that
makes you shiver
something which
you once remember
as something
chilling, the one
which freezes you
one dark night
because of fear
the one which
made you
tremble because
it was so dark
and cold and
you do not know
where to go
what to do
and you hear
your friend
shouting for
help in that
deep forest
and then the
silence and since
then you do not
know the function
of ears and
fingers and hands
and feet
since then
you have forgotten
to run away and
to listen and
to touch
since then
you do not anymore
remember how
it was to be
really alive
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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One Perfect Rose
A single flower she dropped when we met
and in her hands she held a pipe, a water hose
that splashed me by accident quiet wet
while at my feet lay a perfect rose.
I wanted to take her for a spin on my motorbike,
to experience the sun and wind in a special way,
wanted to give her a present that she would like
but she giggled and with a garden hose began to play
and like little children we ran up and down
laughing and having fun
and never such exuberance I have known
from the time that my dating had begun
and later when I returned her rose her eyes did propose
a tender embrace, maybe a kiss and I held her close.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Heavy Heart I Burry Them
Whoosh, whoosh, whap!
A hungry Eagle destroyed their nest
High up and up
Their mom, captured, away from nest
Turning back not
Had become an Eagle’s meal.
Little ones orphaned
Wingless and scared,
Escape, they had tried
Thud, had fallen to ground
One, a leg broken, head smashed
Another, out were intestines
Pity, pity, up I pick them
Cupped in my palms, lifeless
Up, the tree
Their nest, a ruined home
Heavy heart heaving
I bury them, no ceremony, nothing
An Ant, a meal it had seen!
poem by Charles Jagongo Ogola
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I Haven't Forgotten
I haven't forgotten when I meet you first!
I haven't forgotten when I greet you last!
I haven't forgotten your pretty face!
I haven't forgotten your smile and grace!
I haven't forgotten how we started chatting!
I haven't forgotten when we started dating!
I haven't forgotten our last walk together!
I haven't forgotten how I became a loser!
I haven't forgotten how it became too late!
I haven't forgotten when I understood fate!
I haven't forgotten that summer's northwester!
I haven't forgotten and won't forget ever!
poem by Asif Andalib
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Follow The Imbroglio Closely For It Breeds Inspiration
have you noticed that when in trial
sure its hard to smile
but when im sick when im down when i cant move
when im just stuck when i just cant prove
myself when i feel detached from my body detached from life
that I've given away my life in a sadistic deal a fief,
or contract, this is when i write
this time is right
its then that i spill my best words on this page
even in my sickness and trouble i keep animosity far away like a careful sage
i choose to rhyme
when there is nothing to live for
when I've become something to abhor!
this is when you see me
just write write so happily
okay okay maybe this is just typing
whoosh whoosh listen as i sing
the words that i think and put them on a page just for you only for you
as long as you is the reader
poem by David Knox
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Late Autumn Mobility Week
Unclean vehicles, lorries and vans
appear unsightly to everyone's eye
but as cleanliness is next to Godliness
an autumnal hose-down would purify
a satisfaction we could not deny.
And in the cool of late September
as the summer sun faded away,
I took another look around me...
and the city seemed dismal and grey.
Ah, late September ~ mobility week
when drivers made use of the hose,
they washed and polished their motorcars
and the prettiest city was winning stars.
Complete satisfaction was ours.
(Please note: too much use of
the hose may encourage flooding)
Posted 8 November 2009.
poem by Joyce Hemsley
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Coiled In
I coiled in because you people do not care about me,
And now i know what sin brings.
I coiled in because you people hated my words,
And now i do see continue wars and unending hate around!
So, open up your mind and start to learn;
For Nimrod's birthday is what you people love today.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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the plaintain at the veranda's edge
unfolds its coiled leaves,
its jewels,
and veils the water basin
in five feet of green
tanka by Masaoki Shiki
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Water Lilies
If you have forgotten water lilies floating
On a dark lake among mountains in the afternoon shade,
If you have forgotten their wet, sleepy fragrance,
Then you can return and not be afraid.
But if you remember, then turn away forever
To the plains and the prairies where pools are far apart,
There you will not come at dusk on closing water lilies,
And the shadow of mountains will not fall on your heart.
poem by Sara Teasdale
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Lawn Mower
Giant...earthbound
Metal bumblebee
Gorging on green grass
And on an occasional
Green water hose!
poem by LaRetha Adams
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The Forgotten One
The forgotten One
Mary Joe where are you know? Forgotten bones in a grave yard?
He was such a dashing man and you drove with him through
the night, crossing a bridge that wasn’t there, into the water and
then you where alone breathing through pockets of air in the car.
Struggling to breaths the air, between the roof of the car and water,
getting smaller, but you just knew he was coming to rescue you,
he was such a nice boy. When you knew he wasn’t coming and
there was no more air to breath you knew you had been a rich
man’s toy and your tears mingled became the sea. Mary Joe
I have not forgotten you, the man who betrayed you is dead, they
gave him a great send off the president and the famous came to his
funeral., and amongst the speeches no one mentioned your name.
Even your parents were paid off not to mention your name, yet
I do remember your face from the press and I will remember you.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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The Fruit Of His Silence And Indifference
what he remembers most was that time
when he asks for a glass of water which was denied him
he was angry at first
hysterical about his thirst his view on death that comes like a black horse from far
but he calmed down ultimately knowing that nothing happens anyway
despite his scream
the wind is still the wind that goes out from the hold of the mountain
not ever minding his situation
the trees are cruel too taking care only of their own roots
and so he grabbed silence
he coiled with the ropes of indifference
and take himself for a rock beside a cliff
and then they look for him
regretting perhaps what they have forgotten such a value for a rose
but then he has no eyes as identifying marks and no matter how
they search
despite his presence
they could not find him
now they are all crazy like the tribes driven out from Babel
and he simply watched them all
in silence and indifference
they murmur and cry out in the darkness of their souls
it is time now he says to reap the fruits of his labor.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Waiter! Bring Me Water!
He took me to--our favorite spot
A place we go to hang a lot
Something seemed to catch his eye
Oh--oo--oh over my shoulder
Oh--oo--oh over my shoulder
I turned around--to see whats up
A pretty young thing sure enough
She was new--he wanted to
Kno--oo--oh--oh--oo--ow her
Kno--oo--oh--oh--oo--ow her
Oh--yeah--
Then she flicked her hair (yeah!)
Oh--yeah--he began to stare
[chorus:]
Waiter! (waiter) bring me water!
I gotta make him keep his cool
(waiter) bring me water!
Hes acting like a fool
(waiter) bring me water!
Uh, oh, I did my best--to block his view
But it was like he could see through me
I just knew--he wanted to
Ho--oo--oh--oh--oo--oh--old her
Ho--oo--oh--oh--oo--oh--old her
Oh--yeah--i aint gettin nowhere (yeah!)
Oh--yeah--shes still standing there
[repeat chorus]
Theres gotta be a way to cool this clown--
Hes starting to embarrass me
I may even have to hose him down--
Bring me water
I dont know what he finds so distracting--
Whats so hot about her
I really dont like the way hes acting
Bring me water!
Uh, bring it on!
Uhhhh
Oh
Whats so hot about her
Uh, uh, uh,
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
(waiter, bring me water)
Gotta make him keep his cool
(waiter, bring me water)
Send him back to school
(waiter, bring me water)
Hes acting like a fool
(waiter, bring me water)
Waiter, bring me water
song performed by by Shania Twain
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In Memoriam Mae Noblitt
This is just a place:
we go around, distanced,
yearly in a star's
atmosphere, turning
daily into and out of
direct light and
slanting through the
quadrant seasons: deep
space begins at our
heels, nearly rousing
us loose: we look up
or out so high, sight's
silk almost draws us away:
this is just a place:
currents worry themselves
coiled and free in airs
and oceans: water picks
up mineral shadow and
plasm into billions of
designs, frames: trees,
grains, bacteria: but
is love a reality we
made here ourselves--
and grief--did we design
that--or do these,
like currents, whine
in and out among us merely
as we arrive and go:
this is just a place:
the reality we agree with,
that agrees with us,
outbounding this, arrives
to touch, joining with
us from far away:
our home which defines
us is elsewhere but not
so far away we have
forgotten it:
this is just a place.
poem by Archie Randolph Ammons
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Heatseaker
Gettin ready to rock, gettin ready to roll
Gonna turn up the heat, gonna fire up the coal
I gotta that motor turnin
I gotta keep that engine clean
I gotta keep those tyres burnin
Ive got the best youve ever seen
Cos Im a heatseeker, chargin up the sky
Heatseeker, and I, dont need no life preserver
Dont need no one to hose me down
To hose me down
Getting ready to break, get ready to go
Get your shoes off an shake, get your head down and blow
Ya gotta keep that woman firin
You gotta keep that circuit clean
You gotta make her sound the siren
You gotta hear that lady scream
Cos Im a heatseeker, burnin up the town
Heatseeker, I dont, I dont need no life preserver
Dont need no one to hose me down
To hose me down, here it comes
Heatseeker
Wanna see you get up, see the whites of your eyes
Im a heatseeker
Im gonna measure you, gonna try you for size
Im a heatseeker
Ya gotta keep that motor turnin
Ya gotta keep that engine clean
Ya gotta keep those tyres burnin
I got the best youve ever seen
Im a heatseeker
I dont need no life preserver
Dont need no one to hose me down
Im a heatseeker, Im a heatseeker, heatseeker
Out on the street feel the heat
song performed by by AC-DC
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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