At The Veranda
her hair is black and curly
and she is so tight
and young and you
do not speak to her
as she waits for
her lover at
the veranda of
this house
you stand on a door
half open where your
eyes take the
luxury of looking
at her
she blushes and
pretends
that she is scrolling
a name in her
cell phone
you pretend you
look at the stars
crowding a black
cloud up
the silent sky
she steals a look at you
she wants you
but she is here
at the master's
bedroom
and her name
has always been
fear
he looks at her again
and winks
in the mirror beside
her
'she is fast asleep' he said.
she has no answer
she smiles.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Unforgiven 2
Lay beside me, tell me what they've done
Speak the words I want to hear, to make my demons run
The door is locked now, but it's open if you're true
If you can understand the me, than I can understand the you.
Lay beside me, under wicked sky
Through black of day, dark of night, we share this pair of lives
The door cracks open, but there's no sun shining through
Black heart scarring darker still, but there's no sun shining through
No, there's no sun shining through
No, there's no sun shining
What I've felt, what I've known
Turn the pages, turn the stone
Behind the door, should I open it for you?
What I've felt, what I've known
Sick and tired, I stand alone
Could you be there?, 'cause I'm the one who waits for you
Or are you unforgiven too?
Come lay beside me, this won't hurt I swear
She loves me not, she loves me still, but she'll never love again
She lay beside me, but she'll be there when I'm gone
Black heart scarring darker still, yes she'll be there when I'm gone
Yes, she'll be there when I'm gone
Dead sure she'll be there!
What I've felt, what I've known
Turn the pages, turn the stone
Behind the door, should I open it for you?
What I've felt, what I've known
Sick and tired, I stand alone
Could you be there?, 'cause I'm the one who waits for you
Or are you unforgiven too?
(Solo)
Lay beside me, tell me what I've done
The door is closed, so are your eyes
But now I see the sun, now I see the sun
Yes now I see it!
What I've felt, what I've known
Turn the pages, turn the stone
Behind the door, should I open it for you?
What I've
song performed by by Metallica
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Gecko Named Curly Tail
Looking down on the ground
Curly Tail the gecko waits
without a sound.
I say "Hello honey-how are you?
Where are your kids this afternoon?
Then when I leave the door
Curly Tail's offspring
is scampering once more.
Curly Tail waits for me
on the black mat—
It's like he knows where I am at.
He knows when I leave to go far,
he knows when I get out of my car.
Thanks Curly Tail for waiting for me-
see you later by the tree.
Written by Christina Sunrise on July 4,2012
www.christinasunrise.com
poem by Christina Sunrise
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fell Me In
Thanks to [email protected] for correcting these lyrics.
I was checking this girl next door
When her parents were out
She'd phone say hey boy, come on right around
So I knock at the door
You was standing with a bottle of red wine
Ready to pour
Dressed in long black satin laced to the floor
So I went in
Then we sat down start kissing caressing
Told me about jacuzzi sounded interesting
So we jumped right in
All calls diverted to answer phone
Please leave a message after the tone
I mean me and her and her parents were kinda cool
But they were the fine line between me and you
We were just doing things young people in love do
Parents trying to find out what we were up to
Saying why were you creepin round late last night
Why did I see two shadows
Moving in your bedroom light
Now you're dressed in black
When I left you were dressed in white
Can you fill me in
Calls diverted to answer phone
Red wine bottle half the contents gone
Midnight return jacuzzi turned on
Can you fill me in
Whenever the coast was clear
And she'd ask me to come out
I'd say hey girl, come on right around
So she knocked at the door
I was standing with the keys in my hand to the 4x4
Jumped in my ride, checking that nobody saw
The club we went in
We got down bounce bounce to the rhythm
Saw it was early morning
Thought we'd better be leaving
So I gave you my jacket for you to hold
Told you to wear it cuzz you felt cold
I mean me and her
We didn't mean to break the rules
I weren't trying to play
Your Mum and Dad for fools
We were just doing things young people in love do
Parents trying to find out what we were up to
Saying why can't you keep your promises no more
Say you'll be home by 12 come strolling in at 4
Out with the girls but leaving
With the boy next door
Can you fill me in
Wearing a jacket who's property
Said you'd been queuing for a taxi
But you left all your money on the tv
Can you fill me in
All they seem to do
Is be checking up on you--baby
Watching our every move
Think someday they might approve--maybe
Why were you creepin round late last night
Why did I see two shadows
Moving in your bedroom light
Now you're dressed in black
When I left you were dressed in white
Can you fill me in
Calls diverted to answer phone
Red wine bottle half the contents gone
Midnight return jacuzzi turned on
Can you fill me in...
song performed by by Craig David
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Night Begins
Lying is sweet repose behind the bedroom door
she waits for her lover at the appointed hour.
His footsteps are silent
as he creeps along the hall,
knocks upon the door and waits
for her voice to say softly come in.
Opening the door with care, he walks quietly in.
She rises to embrace him
as now for them the night begins.
The murmur of raised passions
echo from them both
as they float along on a cloud of ecstasy
into a long night of passion
that ends so abruptly
as the dawning sun awakes.
26 November 2008
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cell Phone Mania
Cell phones to the right,
Cell phones to the left,
Cell phones, cell phones,
everywhere I look.
Red alert, stop! Listen,
shut up and drive,
shut up and read,
Cell phones, why so many.
Everyone talking,
cell phones in cars,
cell phones in bars,
eating places, cell phones.
There you can't escape
from them, you say
to yourself, the restroom,
no one would dare
use cell phone in there,
oh no, I hear someone,
talking to me, I answer them,
oh, sorry sir, did not know you
were on cell phone.
Oh, so many,
shut up, and walk.
Do away with cell phones,
and it would be like,
the crash of '29'.
People need cell phones,
sometimes their nice,
to have, but so many,
cell phones, might
as well join them
if you can't lick 'em,
join them.
Cell phone, cell phone
now how do I use this
thing, oh cell phone, cell phone,
Hello, Hello, oh that's
you mert.
wrote 1-19-07
I'm As Young As I Was
I stand
In front of the mirror daily
I ask myself
What has changed in me?
Between yesterday and today
I do not get an answer
I feel I am as young as I was
This goes on for years
I see white hairs
Wrinkles on the face
One day
Have I become old?
I ask myself
I do not get an answer
I feel I am as young as I was
Life goes on and on
One day
I find it difficult to stand
My image in the mirror
Looks blurred
Hands tremble
When combing the hair
Have I become old?
I ask myself
I do not get an answer
I feel I am as young as I was
One day I am in bed
I am told,
I am sick and old
No, I say
I may be old in age
But not at heart
In the mind
I am as young as I was
I got well
I still stand
In front of the mirror daily
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Black Dog
early morning when
the door of the house is finally opened
the black dog enters
missing his master
the owner of the door of the house
it wants to speak
but since it has no power over the words
it simply wags its tail
puts his head on the lap of the master
and from this gesture
one can see
that everything is well said
by it...
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Sleeper
As Ann came in one summer's day,
She felt that she must creep,
So silent was the clear cool house,
It seemed a house of sleep.
And sure, when she pushed open the door,
Rapt in the stillness there,
Her mother sat, with stooping head,
Asleep upon a chair;
Fast -- fast asleep; her two hands laid
Loose-folded on her knee,
So that her small unconscious face
Looked half unreal to be:
So calmly lit with sleep's pale light
Each feature was; so fair
Her forehead -- every trouble was
Smooth'd out beneath her hair.
But though her mind in dream now moved,
Still seemed her gaze to rest
From out beneath her fast-sealed lids,
Above her moving breast,
On Ann, as quite, quite still she stood;
Yet slumber lay so deep
Even her hands upon her lap
Seemed saturate with sleep.
And as Ann peeped, a cloudlike dread
Stole over her, and then,
On stealthy, mouselike feet she trod,
And tiptoed out again.
poem by Walter de la Mare
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Eat Your Heart Out
I've come by, she says, to tell you
that this is it. I'm not kidding, it's
over. this is it.
I sit on the couch watching her arrange
her long red hair before my bedroom
mirror.
she pulls her hair up and
piles it on top of her head-
she lets her eyes look at
my eyes-
then she drops her hair and
lets it fall down in front of her face.
we go to bed and I hold her
speechlessly from the back
my arm around her neck
I touch her wrists and hands
feel up to
her elbows
no further.
she gets up.
this is it, she says,
this will do. well,
I'm going.
I get up and walk her
to the door
just as she leaves
she says,
I want you to buy me
some high-heeled shoes
with tall thin spikes,
black high-heeled shoes.
no, I want them
red.
I watch her walk down the cement walk
under the trees
she walks all right and
as the pointsettas drip in the sun
I close the door.
poem by Charles Bukowski
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dear wife
I work so hard
I have no time for supper, breakfast, and dinner
Got a cracker and a noodle
A little solid a little hot liquid Are enough since I need a lot of time
Before my computer And this is non-stop working for the whole day
My cell phone is on silent mode and I cannot open it
I work the whole day, concentrated and straight It is eleven o’clock in the evening I arrive in the house and you say a lot of things I do not care anymore as I drag my dead tired body Towards the room and eyes half-closed I almost stepped upon your expensive porcelain vase
I lay on bed my shoes and sock still on my feet I did know anything since then Dead tired I am dead asleep.
If you are unhappy and do not like me
Find the man who is not tired, just leave me I am dead asleep.
i am just your loving husband, tomorrow i will still be your loving husband, yes tomorrow, even if you decided to go away.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Surprise Before Christmas
was a couple of days before Christmas
And all through our house
Wrapping supplies were still scattered
When my wife first saw the mouse
I was dozing watching TV
When I hear her query
'What's that running across the floor? '
Her eyes showing signs of fear and fury
Then I saw it too and hoped it was
Heading out on his way back
It was a mouse for sure
Fury light brown with eyes coal black
I jumped to my feet
To see what to do
Could I be fast enough to catch him
Or just hit him with my shoe
I scared him all right
He again ran across the floor
Hid behind our presents
Instead of going out the door
Help was on the way
My son handed my a broom
My wife standing in her chair
Watching from the other room
Our daughter on her cell phone
Also seemed full of fright
I heard her asking a friend
If she could go there to spend the night
Then the mouse was gone
Fast as a shot
At least that's what I told my wife
I showed her the spot
'See the bottom of the new door
where the the rug used to be
That's where he went out.'
Sounded convincing to me
She made me check all the rooms
Even close up the chimney flue blockikng any crack
I thought better and didn't ask
How Santa was going to get in with his sack
Finally she went to bed
I was soon to follow
I'm sure she knew my promise of
'No mouse for Christmas.' was hollow
poem by Tom J. Mariani
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cremation - Ashes To Ashes
Well the coal-black sea waits for me-me-me
The coal-black sea waits forever
The waves hit the shore, crying more-more-more
But the coal-black sea waits forever
The tornados come up the coast they run
Hurricanes rip the sky forever
Through the weathers change, the sea remains the same
The coal-black sea waits forever
There are ashes split through collective guilt
People rest at sea forever
Since they burnt you up, collect you in a cup
For you the coal-black sea has no terror
Will your ashes float like some foreign boat
Or will they sink absorbed forever
Will the atlantic coast, have its final boast
Nothing else contained you ever
Now the coal-black sea waits for me-me-me
The coal-black sea waits forever
When I leave this joint at some further point
The same coal-black sea will it be waiting
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cremation
Well the coal black sea waits for me me me
The coal black sea waits forever
The waves hit the shore
Crying more more more
But the coal black sea waits forever
The tornados come up the coast they run
Hurricanes rip the sky forever
Through the weathers change
the sea remains the same
The coal black sea waits forever
There are ashes split through collective guilt
People rest at sea forever
Since they burnt you up
Collect you in a cup
For you the coal black sea has no terror
Will your ashes float like some foreign boat
or will they sink absorbed forever
Will the Atlantic Coast
have its final boast
Nothing else contained you ever
Now the coal black sea waits for me me me
The coal black sea waits forever
When I leave this joint
at some further point
The same coal black sea will it be waiting
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sixty Years Ago
I
The double-blossomed peach-trees with rosy bloom were gay
When grandpa rode beneath them upon his courting way,
From the white gate to the homestead they stretched in stately row,
And showered his path with petals, just sixty years ago.
His riding suit was spick and span, his jingling bridle rein,
Was polished to the limit, his top-boots shone again;
A mass of youthful vanity, from curly head to toe,
Was my darling gay young grandpa – just sixty years ago.
Upon the broad veranda, demure my grandma sat,
And hid her girlish blushes beneath her garden hat,
Her dainty flowing muslins enfolded her like snow;
Ah! Very sweet my grandma was, just sixty years ago.
With sweeping bow and fluttering heart he told his hopes and fears,
And grandma gently said him ‘Yea’, mid blushes, smiles and tears.
When the double-blossomed peach-trees with fruit were bending low,
Good Father Flynn united them – just sixty years ago.
II
There’s a sound of mirthful revel in the dear old home to-night,
Where the merry young folk frolic ‘neath the incandescent light,
Jazzing on the broad veranda, listening to the radio,
Knowing wonders quite undreamt of in the days of long ago.
On the vine-enclosed veranda, sits my grandpa in his chair,
And the flower-scented night winds stirs the white locks of his hair;
Grandma sits and smiles beside him, happy in the young folks glee,
Such a dainty dear old lady, ever young at heart is she.
And the harvest of their labours in the moonlight stretches wide
All the land they’ve won and toiled for as they struggled side by side,
In their brave old eyes no shadow from the griefs of gone-by years,
For their hearts beat high within them – dauntless breed of pioneers.
Hand in hand they sit together, while the angels smile above,
On their long unbroken record of faith, sacrifice and love;
From the double-blossomed peach trees come the petals falling slow,
Bringing sweet and fadeless memories of Sixty Years ago.
poem by Alice Guerin Crist
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Something Political
beside the woman with short hair
chinese eyes
plain clother
all black is another woman with
long hair
thick glasses
holding a cell phone
and a black leather bag
which she carries with her left hand
they are boarding a plane
to the central city
to talk the president about a
political proposal
the president has a mole on her left cheek
always smiling....
what is the point of all these?
nothing. The plan is kept as a top secret.
do you feel being fooled?
that is normal.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To Be Young Gifted And Black
(1969) nina simone, weldon irvine jr
To be young, gifted and black,
Oh what a lovely precious dream
To be young, gifted and black,
Open your heart to what I mean
In the whole world you know
There are billion boys and girls
Who are young, gifted and black,
And thats a fact!
Young, gifted and black
We must begin to tell our young
Theres a world waiting for you
This is a quest thats just begun
When you feel really low
Yeah, theres a great truth you should know
When youre young, gifted and black
Your souls intact
Young, gifted and black
How I long to know the truth
There are times when I look back
And I am haunted by my youth
Oh but my joy of today
Is that we can all be proud to say
To be young, gifted and black
Is where its at
song performed by by Nina Simone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To Be Young, Gifted & Black
(1969) nina simone, weldon irvine jr
To be young, gifted and black,
Oh what a lovely precious dream
To be young, gifted and black,
Open your heart to what I mean
In the whole world you know
There are billion boys and girls
Who are young, gifted and black,
And thats a fact!
Young, gifted and black
We must begin to tell our young
Theres a world waiting for you
This is a quest thats just begun
When you feel really low
Yeah, theres a great truth you should know
When youre young, gifted and black
Your souls intact
Young, gifted and black
How I long to know the truth
There are times when I look back
And I am haunted by my youth
Oh but my joy of today
Is that we can all be proud to say
To be young, gifted and black
Is where its at
song performed by by Nina Simone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Yulo....
he passes by the house
though there is a doorbell he calls my name
(in fact, he is shouting that there is a man
with a covered face overtaking him and
takes refuge in the flowering bushes beside the fence)
i compromise and pretend that i agree with him
he is drunk, his wife left him, his children too
and lives in the old house
all alone,
and so where is the man? he says it is a shadow
a robust one, and it is running too fast past him
he is tipsy, his curly hair is glistening with oil
i mean it is unwashed for days
he is with a gay friend, a transvestite and
more beautiful than his wife
there is no man, there is no shadow,
i know, that he is lost, there is nothing to fear
but he has all these fears
of insufficiency, the incapacity to know what the real problem
is.
My house is fenced. I cannot invite one like him and have a drink.
I give him a bottle of whiskey, and tells his transvestite friend to take him
to the old house,
now at least, he is not alone anymore
someone is warm, someone loves him now, perhaps
higher than his dog, that waggles its tail
as soon as the front door is opened.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Open Door
I see your smiling face, by the open door
Theres the morning light
Shining in your hair, and in your eyes
And just a little way behind that smile of yours
I see another one, oh so far away
If only for one second, I could hold you close to me
When the master calls for me again
Theres nothing I can say, or I can do
Goodbye, my love
Time has come to say farewell
I hear the call again
Goodbye to the world
Ive shouted for so long
Oh theres so much my love, that I can never say
And in a little while, in a little while
Theres nothing left to see
As the years go by and I have not returned
And the night has come, falling all around
Ooh if you count the stars youll know
How many have gone out
And when the master calls for me again
Theres nothing that I can say
Or I can do
Stand in the sun
Shut your eyes and feel the world
Its changing every day
Goodbye my love
Each day will seem so long
Ooh theres so much I feel, that I can never say
I cant see you
I cant feel you anymore
Ive just a memory of that open door
song performed by by Genesis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Friend In New York Shot In An Art Exhibition
big round glasses
chinese eyes framed in black
curly black hair
pigtailed
protruding scarlet lips
closed
mustache untrimmed
you are the mouse of modern art
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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