Always The Vested Interest...
the cat grins
beneath those soft feet
are bear claws
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Stranded (Lyrics)
Your waves come crashing down
Like a semi-auto trailer
I dive so deep in the sea
To avoid killer whales
A perfect moment here and gone
It has sailed
I'll use a hammerhead to drive
Rusty nail inside
I'm feeling the sea beneath me, beneath you
I'm feeling the sea beneath you, beneath me
Imagine if our world was blue and weightless
I never meant to do wrong to you
You're my starfish
You moan a tone so low beyond me
A telepathic sub-sonic frequency
I need a little air for emergency
You have to understand this urgency
I'm feeling the sea beneath me, beneath you
White sand beneath my feet
No brain between my ears
I'm feeling the sea beneath you, beneath me
I know that if I had one
I'd spare us both these years
I'm feeling the sea beneath me, beneath you
White sand beneath my feet
No brain between my ears
I'm feeling the sea beneath you, beneath me
I know that if I had one
I'd spare us both these years
A sea anemone, you're my enemy
poem by Satan's Sibling
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A Robin
Oh, silly robin!
Worms squirm merrily
Beneath three snow feet.
Sharpen your beak
Get in there digging
They flourish indeed
Beneath three snow feet.
Fluff up your feathers
Brace the cold weather
They're naive of your presence
Beneath three snow feet.
poem by Deva De Silva
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I had to weave and play around with a honey bear, you know, and I could wrestle with him a little bit, but there's no way you can even wrestle a honey bear, let alone a grizzly bear that's standing ten feet to eleven feet tall! Can you imagine? But it was fascinating to work that close to that kind of animal.
quote by Leslie Nielsen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fingernails
Babies have fingernails
Children have fingernails
Teenagers have fingernails
Adults have fingernails
Senior Citizens have fingernails
Dead people have decaying fingernails
Kittens have claws
Kitties have claws
Felines have claws
Cats have claws
Seniors Catizens have claws
Dead cats have decaying claws
Hotwheels have wheels
Vespas have wheels
Slugbugs have wheels
Hummers have wheels
Oldsmobiles have wheels
Dead car parts have decaying wheels
But most importantly, I have fingernails, a cat, and a car.
poem by Gerald Flippinhanger
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Funny Feet
Feet are funny things I reckon
like why have we got toes?
we hide them away in our shoes
not on show like our ears or nose.
Some Feet are long and thin
others short stumpy and fat
with nails at the bottom
instead of claws like a Cat.
But if we didn't have Feet
we couldn't walk at all
so you couldn't ride a Bike
or run and kick a Football.
But they just look a bit odd
not really pretty or neat
then again they do a good job
so where would we be without Feet!
poem by Kevin Halls
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The Glow-Worm To Her Love
BENEATH cool ferns, in dewy grass,
Among the leaves that fringe the stream,
I hear the feet of lovers pass,
--I hide all day, and dream.
But when the night, with wide soft wings,
Droops on the trembling waiting wood,
And lulls the restless woodland things
Within its solitude,
Ah, then my soft green lamp I light,
That thou may'st find me by its fire--
Come, crown me, O my winged delight
My darling, my desire.
Yet they who praise the lamp I bear
Have never a word of praise for thee,
My love, my life, my King of Air,
Who lightest the lamp in me.
Thine, thine should be the praise they give
My King, who art all praise above,
Since but for thee I dream and live,
And light the lamp of love.
poem by Edith Nesbit
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Beneath All Else...
beneath my feet
i hide my shadows and
they escape like
fugitives
under the guises
of their
sad stories
beneath my hands
i clasp my emptiness
and shaped like a ball
you mistake it for
fullness
you are confused
and i look amazed
still unfazed by your
feigned confidences
beneath my hair
i hide my thoughts
beneath my skull
i hide my soul
beneath my beliefs
i hide a number of faces
beneath my heart
i tell love stories
beneath all these
are the shallowness of them all
something that nobody expects
for i am simple
as a yellow paper
where you list
your bad debts
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Teddy Bear Is Forever
There’s a spot in the garden of childhood,
That children and adults can share;
A place in the heart and memory,
For one’s very own stuffed teddy bear.
Now, a little girl’s dolls will get broken,
And a little boy’s kites fly away,
But a soft, cuddly teddy’s forever,
When we’ve gotten too grownup to play.
And a young lady’s dreams may be dampened,
And a man sees his plans go astray,
But a teddy bear kept from our childhood,
Through life’s troubles will faithfully stay.
For whether it’s kept in a bookcase,
Or lying on top of one’s bed,
A teddy bear waits for it’s owner,
With eyes wide awake in it’s head.
And if all the world’s children were given,
The gift of a soft teddy bear,
We should see their glad faces,
Reflecting love and goodwill everywhere.
© S.E.S
poem by Sara Stowell
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The Eagle
he looms through
the sky, roof of the world
blue, white and all
a bundle of feather
and armoury
flaunting his wide span
confident that the world
is within its grasp
his eyes zero in on objects
far and near
its claws ever ready to strike
his shrill cry echoes
through the mounts
beneath tiny little creatures
run for cover
the steely look of its amour
claws, eyes, beak
the world reels
from its grasp
the eagle in all its splendour
crowns the sky
our emblems
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Concrete & Clay
You, to me
Are sweet as roses in the morning
You, to me
Are soft as summer in that dawning love we share
That something rare
The sidewalks and the street
The concrete and the clay beneath my feet
Begin to crumble
But love will never die
You know well see the mountains crumble
Before we say goodbye
My love and I will be
In love eternally
Thats the way
Thats the way love was meant to be
All around
I see the purple shades of evening
On the ground
The shadows fallen, once again youre in my arms
So tenderly
The sidewalks and the street
The concrete and the clay beneath my feet
Begin to crumble
But love will never die
You know well see the mountains crumble
Before we say goodbye
My love and I will be
In love eternally
Thats the way
Thats the way love was meant to be
The sidewalks and the street
The concrete and the clay beneath my feet
Begin to crumble
But love will never die
You know well see the mountains crumble
Before we say goodbye
My love and I will be
In love eternally
Thats the way
Thats the way love was meant to be
Thats the way
Thats the way love was meant to be
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We Wear the Mask
We wear the mask that grins and lies,
It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes,--
This debt we pay to human guile;
With torn and bleeding hearts we smile,
And mouth with myriad subtleties.
Why should the world be overwise,
In counting all our tears and sighs?
Nay, let them only see us, while
We wear the mask.
We smile, but, O great Christ, our cries
To thee from tortured souls arise.
We sing, but oh the clay is vile
Beneath our feet, and long the mile;
But let the world dream otherwise,
We wear the mask!
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Concrete And Clay
You, to me
Are sweet as roses in the morning
You, to me
Are soft as summer in that dawning love we share
That something rare
The sidewalks and the street
The concrete and the clay beneath my feet
Begin to crumble
But love will never die
You know we'll see the mountains crumble
Before we say goodbye
My love and I will be
In love eternally
That's the way
That's the way love was meant to be
All around
I see the purple shades of evening
On the ground
The shadow's fallen, once again you're in my arms
So tenderly
The sidewalks and the street
The concrete and the clay beneath my feet
Begin to crumble
But love will never die
You know we'll see the mountains crumble
Before we say goodbye
My love and I will be
In love eternally
That's the way
That's the way love was meant to be
The sidewalks and the street
The concrete and the clay beneath my feet
Begin to crumble
But love will never die
You know we'll see the mountains crumble
Before we say goodbye
My love and I will be
In love eternally
That's the way
That's the way love was meant to be
That's the way
That's the way love was meant to be
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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From Beneath My School
Did you ever see my school from beneath
Or did you ever hear it creep
Did you ever see it flip over
Or when it slid under a tree
Did you ever see it in a river swimming under your feet
Did you realize that was looking from above rather than under
Next time you see that school in water, swim under its feet
Well now you saw my school from beneath
poem by Ahad Rajput
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My little kitten
I have a little kitten, I stroke it's soft paws
but no one told me that within..were some very sharp claws.
poem by Brian Roy Skyers
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After Death
IF we must part, this parting is the best:
How would you bear to lay
Your head on some warm pillow far away--
Your head, so used to lying on my breast?
But now your pillow is cold;
Your hands have flowers, and not my hands, to hold;
Upon our bed the worn bride-linen lies.
I have put the death-money upon your eyes,
So that you should not wake up in the night.
I have bound your face with white;
I have washed you, yes, with water and not with tears,--
Those arms wherein I have slept so many years,
Those feet that hastened when they came to me,
And all your body that belonged to me.
I have smoothed your dear dull hair,
And there is nothing left to say for you
And nothing left to fear or pray for you;
And I have got the rest of life to bear:
Thank God it is you, not I, who are lying there.
If I had died
And you had stood beside
This still white bed
Where the white, scented, horrible flowers are spread,--
I know the thing it is,
And I thank God that He has spared you this.
If one must bear it, thank God it was I
Who had to live and bear to see you die,
Who have to live, and bear to see you dead.
You will have nothing of it all to bear:
You will not even know that in your bed
You lie alone. You will not miss my head
Beside you on the pillow: you will rest
So soft in the grave you will not miss my breast.
But I--but I--Your pillow and your place--
And only the darkness laid against my face,
And only my anguish pressed against my side--
Thank God, thank God, that it was you who died!
poem by Edith Nesbit
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The danger that we have right now are people who get the same information as I do and, therefore, think they'll reach the same conclusions that haven't traded as long, don't have bear claws up and down their backs like I do.
quote by Jim Cramer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Doom Of The Esquire Bedell
Adown the torturing mile of street
I mark him come and go,
Thread in and out with tireless feet
The crossings to and fro;
A soul that treads without retreat
A labyrinth of woe.
Palsied with awe of such despair,
All living things give room,
They flit before his sightless glare
As horrid shapes, that loom
And shriek the curse that bids him bear
The symbol of his doom.
The very stones are coals that bake
And scorch his fevered skin;
A fire no hissing hail may slake
Consumes his heart within.
Still must he hasten on to rake
The furnace of his sin.
Still forward! forward! For he feels
Fierce claws that pluck his breast,
And blindly beckon as he reels
Upon his awful quest:
For there is that behind his heels
Knows neither ruth nor rest.
The fiends in hell have flung the dice;
The destinies depend
On feet that run for fearful price,
And fangs that gape to rend;
And still the footsteps of his Vice
Pursue him to the end:—
The feet of his incarnate Vice
Shall dog him to the end.
poem by Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch
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If the Advertising Man Had Been Gilbert
Never mind the slippery wet street--
The tire with a thousand claws will hold you.
Stop as quickly as you will--
Those thousand claws grip the road like a vise.
Turn as sharply as you will--
Those thousand claws take a steel-prong grip on the road to prevent a side skid.
You're safe--safer than anything else will make you--
Safe as you would be on a perfectly dry street.
And those thousand claws are mileage insurance too.
--From the Lancaster Tire and Rubber Company's advertisement in the Saturday Evening Post
Never mind if you find it wet upon the street and slippery;
Never bother if the street is full of ooze;
Do not fret that you'll upset, that you will spoil your summer frippery,
You may turn about as sharply as you choose.
For those myriad claws will grip the road and keep the car from skidding,
And your steering gear will hold it fast and true;
Every atom of the car will be responsive to your bidding,
AND those thousand claws are mileage insurance too--
Oh, indubitably,
Those thousand claws are mileage insurance too.
poem by Franklin P. Adams
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A courtesy with a Black Bear
I met a bear on a city roadside accidentally.
'Don't get frightened that I know Men sing well
And I would like to hear a song from your deep voice.'
The bear told in a friendly manner.
I strum my old Ukulele and started singing;
' It's mighty dark for me to travel*
Oh! The beautiful bears are our friends
That reminds us in the book of History.
Hardly I carry this honeycomb with bees in my childhood old satchel.
I am sorry, it could be melt now as my poor heart is warm like an autumnal breeze.'
Bear showed me a wry smile and I realized that sniffed I am an Alcoholic.
I saw some bruises on my back and that could be the touch of bear's claws,
But it's not painful.
The scenario resembles my precious grandson's lost 'Teddy bear' in this cryptic homeward dream.
(*'Bill Monroe with Jim & Jesse')
[ I am not worthy to loosen the thongs of his sandals.-A humble prayer-]
I dedicate this poem to baby Adam and I am sure that one day you understand this unseen old silly man's dream.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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The World
By day she woos me, soft, exceeding fair:
But all night as the moon so changeth she;
Loathsome and foul with hideous leprosy
And subtle serpents gliding in her hair.
By day she woos me to the outer air,
Ripe fruits, sweet flowers, and full satiety:
But through the night, a beast she grins at me,
A very monster void of love and prayer.
By day she stands a lie: by night she stands
In all the naked horror of the truth
With pushing horns and clawed and clutching hands.
Is this a friend indeed; that I should sell
My soul to her, give her my life and youth,
Till my feet, cloven too, take hold on hell?
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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