About Lies
Because the buses were stopped in front of the railing
because the dolls in the lighted shop windows gesticulated
because the girl with the bicycle lingered outside the drugstore
because the carpenter broke the glass door of the beer hall
because the child was alone in the elevator with a stolen pencil
because the dogs had abandoned the seaside villas
because the rusty grater had been covered over by nettles
because the sky was ashen with a red fish
because the horse on the mountain was more alone than the star
because these and those both were hunted
because of this, only because of this, I told you lies.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Door Number Three
By: jimmy buffett, steve goodman
1974
Oh I took a wrong turn, it was the right turn
My turn to have me a ball
Boys at the shop told me just where to stop
If I wanted to play for it all
I didnt know Id find her on daytime tv
My whole world lies waiting behind door number three
I chose my apparel, I wore a beer barrel
And they rolled me to the very first row
I held a big sign that said, kiss me Im a baker
And monty I sure need the dough
Then I grabbed that sucker by the throat until he called on me
cause my whole world lies waiting behind door number three
And I dont want what jays got on his table
Or the box carol merrill points to on the floor
No Ill hold out just as long as I am able
Or until I can unlock that lucky door
Well, shes no big deal to most folk
But shes everything to me
cause my whole world lies waiting behind door number three
Oh monty, monty, monty, I am walkin down your hall
Got beat, lost my seat, but Im not a man to crawl
Though I didnt get rich, you son of a bitch
Ill be back just wait and see
cause my whole world lies waiting behind door number three
Yes my whole world lies waiting behind door number three
song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Am.... (The Branch, Part Two)
i am...
the orphaned child and the abandoned dog,
the woman raped, the young man killed.
i am the body hanging alone and cold,
the old woman shaking in an empty room.
i am the young girl taken and enslaved,
the needle, the spoon, and the revolver.
i am black skinned, brown skinned anger,
and the bones of bodies hidden...
the speaker of truth detained and tortured,
the invisible trail left behind.
i am...
the rage of jobless, homeless, hopeless...
the unemployment line and the sweat shop.
i am the family living in a stolen car,
and the child who runs away.
i am the store clerk killed by the robber,
her minimum wage death unnoticed.
i am the shadow crossing the border,
the inmate that breaks and runs.
i am the guns silenced,
and the lies revealed...
i am human rebellion.
i am the branch covered by leaves,
waiting for certain autumn!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Tall Nettles
TALL nettles cover up, as they have done
These many springs, the rusty harrow, the plough
Long worn out, and the roller made of stone:
Only the elm butt tops the nettles now.
This corner of the farmyard I like most:
As well as any bloom upon a flower
I like the dust on the nettles, never lost
Except to prove the sweetness of a shower.
poem by Edward Thomas
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If I Were A Carpenter
If I were a carpenter and you were a lady
Would you marry me anyway?
Would you have my baby?
If I worked my hands in wood
I wonder would you still love me?
I say yes, I would, I'll put you above me
That's what I want you to say
And would you save my love from loneliness,
Would you save my love from sorrow, if you would
I give you my onlyness, girl and all of my tomorrows
If a tinker were my trade, would you still find me?
Carrying the pots and the pans that I made,
Walking along the highway
That long lonely highway
If I was a carpenter, and you were a lady
And I was just a carpenter,
Instead of a rock and roll star
Just a carpenter
A carpenter
A carpenter
song performed by by Bob Seger
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Stars, Stripes and Paper Dolls
Stars, stripes and paper dolls
Sometimes most prominent inside
My troubled mind,
That sordid spirit had
Locked the door to humanity-
I was none but a child-
Too many dreams
Snakes at my bedside-
My delusional world
Alive last night,
This morning and at
Noon, every night-
Walking the tightrope day by day
Some child lashing out at me, spit in my face-
None but a child myself-it frightened me-
I became a prisoner inside the world of my dreams-
Locked inside with a platinum key-
Fell one day down the elevator slats-
Closed the door on humanity, I did-
Stars, stripes and paper dolls-
Each had a name-
Intruders from a different galaxy, or perhaps
Some other universe-
I never saw that child again- I had shut the whole world out-
A snake wrapped about my mother’s severed hand-
It hardly mattered; she was close by, protecting me-
Locked inside a world I had
Fabricated for my self alone-
Sitting cross legged on the carpet, staring at the ceiling-
They threatened to take me away last night-
Today, tomorrow, noon and at night-
Stars, stripes and paper dolls-
I played as a child of fourteen-
It didn’t matter- they knew the truth, but I didn’t, so
I cried no tears- I hear rain falling outside my window-
My door is unlocked momentarily-
I ride my proud stallion into the night-
Losing insight and finding my dreams-
Stars, stripes and paper dolls- always there for me-
Today, tomorrow and at night- and
I never found the key.
poem by Claudia Krizay
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When No One Really Cares
my role has
always been
to fix
broken stairs
to oil the
rusty hinges of
the door &
wipe those
misty
glass windows
of their
haze
to plant the
runners
along the stony
pavements
of the house
i like it when
it is green
and covered
as things appear
cool
and vibrant against
the walls
beneath the sun
i replace old
lamps
i like it when
the room is
bright with
light
at night
i like it when
everyone of you
in this house
is comfortable with
warm soup on the
table
when the cold nights
of November
begins to
shiver
when you look
for a candle
and a lighter
i always have
them with
me
what i think is
hurting is that
i am not fixed
myself
i am a broken rail
a malfunctioning lamp
a dark room
a cold soup a
rusty hinge
a missing stair
and yet
no one
no one really
cares.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Elevator
I was on the ground floor
and I wanted level five.
I pressed the call button
and waited for it to arrive.
It arrived with no one in it,
so I entered and closed the door.
It took its time to get going,
then slowed for the next floor.
The doors hesitated then opened,
but no one was there,
but I definitely felt a presence
and a disturbance in the air.
I was standing still and anxious
when the lift shook from side to side.
The doors closed and up it went to three
where the doors opened wide.
Again no one was there waiting,
but I felt someone get in.
Movement in the air and floor
was most unsettling.
I was overwhelmed and nervous
as it approached level four.
It stopped, but no one was waiting,
just like the stops before.
The elevator paused for a second
and I swear someone got in.
I was certain that I heard whispering
as the elevator set off again.
The space felt uncomfortably eerie
cold, but very much alive.
The rotten egg smell made me sickly,
as we went passed level five.
The light suddenly turned to darkness,
and I could see forms and shapes.
They were pushing each other violently,
as we approached level eight.
I pressed the emergency button,
but we still passed eight, nine, and ten.
At level eleven the elevator stopped…
then began to go down again.
At eight the elevator came to a halt
and everyone but me got out.
The darkness became light again,
so relieved, I gave out a shout.
The elevator continued downwards
and stopped at the ground floor.
An old lady and her dog waiting to enter,
but I couldn’t exit the elevator door.
poem by Orlando Belo
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The Monday Troop
Final bow
In a disused music hall
Of laughter and mime
The airwave police
Were the only
Admirers to admire
Sliding sideways in a rusty old ford
The drivers broke down and
A young girl screams
Walking through rock dreams
Tall stories
Mobile t.v. radio
Nobody came
The station is abandoned
Deserted for peace day
Some old man said just do your best
And I think passed away
My shadow is never far behind
And I must find another role to play
Visit maskmaker
Please bend my mind
Someone, no one
I really dont mind
Nobody cares
song performed by by Gary Numan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Grey Wet Fog Of Emptiness
like a gray fog of wet emptiness
covering all realms of my vision
covering all realms of my thought
it is raining so hard, I can’t even see the road
the road - where I drive
windshield wipers sway
left to right
right to left
but they are too old - too slow
to ever give me clear vision
vision - of the pavement which lies ahead
the temperature is a million degrees outside
the windows fog from the pounding 100% humidity
no defroster, none that works anyway
I wipe the glass with my sleeve
in a flesh flash
these people wildly run across the road in front of me
but the breaks on this ancient sports car are old
they wouldn’t have stopped me
even if I slammed the pedal to the floor
near miss
their death in my hands
my death in theirs
pouring - forced water - forms passageways
rivers - to my either side
there is no way I can stop
no way to quit and wait this one out
if I stop - I’m dead
washed away/cleansed from the earth
at the hands of this nonstop deluge of liquid passion
no choice but to move on
through this rainy mountain village
this rainy mountain road
Southeast Asian rain
and you thought the rain covered roads in L.A. were bad
poem by Scott Shaw
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I Never Asked To Be Your Mountain
(t.buckley)
Originally performed by tim buckley in goodbye and hello (1967). jeff performed it live in his exhibition for greetings from tim buckley, a tribute concert organized by hal willner that took place at st.anns church, new york, on april 26 1991.
Oh I never asked to be your mountain
I never asked to fly
Remember when you came to me
And told me of his lies
You didnt understand my love
You dont know why I try
And the rain was falling on that day
And damn the reason why
The flying pisces sails for time
And tells me of my child
Wrapped in bitter tales and heartache
He begs for just a smile
Oh he never asked to be her mountain
He never asked to fly
And through his eye he comes his love
And tells her not to cry
She says, your scoundrel father flies
With a dancer called a queen
And with her stolen cards he plays
And laughs, but never wins
Oh the child dreams to be his hands
In the counting of the rain
But only barren breasts he feels
For her milk will never drain
As I die I cant remember
Where I saw the rain:
Could it be that her laughter
Drove me down again?
Charming dancer will you stop,
Stop and talk to me?
Is there someone else you feel
In your dreams? you will, you see:
In midnight gazes
Ive found you far from me
If you lead me on
Please leave me down
Oh flying flying fish
Please flutter by my door
Yes you can drink my lies
If first you read my eyes
Each one is titled
Im drowning back to you
I cant swim your waters
And you cant walk my lands
Im sailing all my sins
And Im climbing all my fears
And soon now Ill fly
Oh I never asked to be your mountain
I never asked to fly
Remember when you came to me
And told me of his lies
You didnt understand my love
You dont know why I try
And the rain was falling on that day
And thats the reason why
Sweet lover, will you come back
And love me for a while?
Please take my hand
Leave all your fears behind
Ive been gone too long
Now Im home to stay
Please dont leave me
Again this way
Please come home.
song performed by by Jeff Buckley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The three day Rock concert
Pitch your tent in the rain
put money and phone in pockets
hope no thieves around
remember the last time?
Make way to the beer tent
then have a good walk about
your favourite band will be on soon.
Try and get down to the front
but you end up crushed in the middle
by now your covered in mud.
Still you don't care because
you've had a good drink
and the music is loud and great.
Everyone is jumping and moving
to the heavy metal thump thump
your having a fantastic time.
You do this for three days
then you pack up your tent
your worn out and tired
but you'll be back next year.
The great British Rock concert
music, rain, mud, blocked up toilets,
weak beer, hot dogs, drugs,
as British as Fish and Chips!
poem by Kevin Halls
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Five O'Clock 500
Album: For The Record
Just punched the clock and boy am I ready
Walkin' out the door a-headin' home
It's time to buckle up again
In my rolling hunk of tin
It's quittin' time the evenin' race is on
It's that five o'clock 500 and I run it every day
Pick-up trucks, cars and buses all in my way
We've got Darrel, we've got Dale,
Richard, Mark, Rusty and Jeff
Oh, the boss just dropped the green we're on our way
It's that five o'clock 500 every day
Oh, Bubba's runnin' right on my bumper
Pushin' me but there's no where to go
Lane changin' left and right
Blowin' horns and blinkin' lights
Oh, the fast lane has never been so slow
It's that five o'clock 500 and I run it every day
Pick-up trucks, cars and buses all in my way
We've got Darrel, we've got Dale,
Richard, Mark, Rusty and Jeff
Well, the boss just dropped the green we're on our way
It's that five o'clock 500 every day
Well, the caution is out we're at a stand-still
Heard there's construction up ahead
Won't be long so they say
Soon we'll all be on our way
Some trucker on the CB just said
It's that five o'clock 500 and I run it every day
Pick-up trucks, cars and buses all in my way
We've got Darrel, we've got Dale,
Richard, Mark, Rusty and Jared
Oh, the boss just dropped the green we're on our way
It's that five o'clock 500, five o'clock 500,
Five o'clock 500 every day
Every day, every day, every day...
song performed by by Alabama
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My neighbours call me the girl of the south
they call me here the girl of the south
even though I have spent half of my life in the north
they know I have two homelands
and that 'mine' live somewhere else
they are more sensitive to my winters that I am
the other day as I complained that
these minus memorable 25 are too much for me
that the heaters are too small
and the windows in a terrible condition
8 p.m. my neighbor rings at my door
his wife told him about the south girl's problems
with all the tools to replace the missing door handle
tapes for tightening up the windows
I watched the magic at work
and thought that the most treasureable kindness comes
when you least expect it
and I though that people are masterpiece poems
which of course I never told my neighbor
he'd thing the south brain got frozen
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Deeper
We must complete the trip
Try not to lose your grip
No sight of solid ground
And never look straight down
Deeper, deeper, deeper, deeper
Your claustrophobic brain
Sucking you down the drain
The walls are closing in
The air is gettin thin
The elevator broke
It when right trough the floor
It left a burning hole
Down and down and down we go
Were in a deadly spin
Hating this spin were in
Our helpless panic grows
Down and down and down we go
Daylight is at an end
Youll never see again
Youll soon embrace the sight
This cold eternal light
The elevator broke
It when right trough the floor
It left a burning hole
Down and down and down we go
The elevator broke
It when right trough the floor
It left a burning hole
Down and down and down we go
The elevator broke
It when right trough the floor
It left a burning hole
Down and down and down we go
song performed by by Alice Cooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Drunken Dancing Fish
An old man fishing
Sat all day in his boat
Drinking beer
Watching the bobber float
Perhaps it was the alcohol
Or the rocking to and fro
But he swore he saw
A fish come up and dance a do si do!
So quickly
It was gone
But the staggering effect of it
Like a hangover, lingered on long
He sold the boat
And gave up beer
Now he drinks ginger ale
And only hunts deer
poem by Smoky Hoss
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Rednecks
Rednecks
Long time ago when a man called Goldwater was
running for president, I was walking along a road
just outside Mobile, Alabama. What I was doing
there is long forgotten but I recall having a day off
from my ship, and going from bar to bar.
I did notice that the sidewalk was weedy clearly
people did no walking. A pickup truck stopped,
three burley men wanted to give me a lift, dared
not refuse they had gun racks and armed for civil
war that steadfastly refused to appear.
They asked me about Goldwater whom I had read
about in “Newsweek” but I stated ignorance.
They drove me back to Mobile and I assured them
I loved America; gave me a six-pack, warned me
not to speak to black people and commies.
I was told they were rednecks; which I know see
as sort of countryside workers with broken cars
in the front yard. They did look like the men who
bullied and broke shop windows, own by Jewish
shopkeepers, before the last world war two.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Emmy
Emmy's exquisite youth and her virginal air,
Eyes and teeth in the flash of a musical smile,
Come to me out of the past, and I see her there
As I saw her once for a while.
Emmy's laughter rings in my ears, as bright,
Fresh and sweet as the voice of a mountain brook,
And still I hear her telling us tales that night,
Out of Boccaccio's book.
There, in the midst of the villainous dancing-hall,
Leaning across the table, over the beer,
While the music maddened the whirling skirts of the ball,
As the midnight hour drew near,
There with the women, haggard, painted and old,
One fresh bud in a garland withered and stale,
She, with her innocent voice and her clear eyes, told
Tale after shameless tale.
And ever the witching smile, to her face beguiled,
Paused and broadened, and broke in a ripple of fun,
And the soul of a child looked out of the eyes of a child,
Or ever the tale was done.
O my child, who wronged you first, and began
First the dance of death that you dance so well?
Soul for soul: and I think the soul of a man
Shall answer for yours in hell.
poem by Arthur Symons
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What That Little Boy Was Praying For
Evening
Sun is almost set
Its weak beams still
Making road side sand grains glitter
I was on a walk to a temple nearby
A scratching brake of a bicycle
Made me look up
A boy of not even ten years the bicycle rider
Stopped his bicycle
In front of the temple entrance
Not getting down form it
Closed his eyes, clasped his palms
Started a prayer
He was in that posture
For much longer than
What a passerby normally does
Turning curious I continued to watch him
Forgetting for a while my purpose of this walk
Since the boy was in the middle
Of that narrow lane
A car stopped behind him
A bike passed by him
Sounding a shrill horn
A street dog barked at the bike
Car also gave a horn
Nothing left in the boy any sign of disturbance
It would have been a full minute
Before the boy woke up to realities
And started his ride
Without even glancing those
Who were watching him
I left the scene and entered the temple
What that little boy was praying for
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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When i was a little girl
When i was a little girl,
I had a cat called Smokey,
But he got stolen by a next door neighbour,
When i was a little girl,
My friend Emily cut my fringe,
With play dough scissors,
When i was a little girl,
I broke my wrist,
But no-one believed me,
When i was a little girl,
I put too much baby powder on,
And i was as white as snow,
When i was a little girl,
I had a red phone,
And every time the house phone rang,
I copied what my mom said,
When i was a little girl,
I went to town with nana,
Lots of times,
When i was a little girl,
I loved it it,
I had so much fun,
When they weren't bad times,
I wish i was a little girl again,
When i have a little girl,
She will be called Crystal Colleen Rose,
Or Crystal Rose Colleen
Wrote about me :)
poem by StaceyLeigh Olner
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Move It On Over
Came in last night at half past ten
That baby of mine wouldnt let me in
So move it on over (move it on over)
Move it on over (move it on over)
Move over little dog cause the big dogs moving in
Shes changed the lock on my front door
My door key dont fit no more
So get it on over (move it on over)
Scoot it on over (move it on over)
Move over skinny dog cause the fat dogs moving in
This dog house here is mighty small
But its better than no house at all
So ease it on over (move it on over)
Drag it on over (move it on over)
Move over old dog cause a new dogs moving in
She told me not to play around
But I done let the deal go down
So pack it on over (move it on over)
Tote it on over (move it on over)
Move over nice dog cause a mad dogs moving in
She warned me once, she warned me twice
But I dont take no ones advice
So scratch it on over (move it on over)
Shake it on over (move it on over)
Move over short dog cause the tall dogs moving in
Shell crawl back to me on her knees
Ill be busy scratching fleas
So slide it on over (move it on over)
Sneak it on over (move it on over)
Move over good dog cause a mad dogs moving in
Remember pup, before you whine
That sides yours and this sides mine
So shove it on over (move it on over)
Sweep it on over (move it on over)
Move over cold dog cause a hot dogs moving in
song performed by by Hank Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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