Fencing
fence out despair
it does nothing good for the grass on the yard
fence in hope
for they are like finches that feed on the grains
to include the wastes of the kitchen
fence out doubt
they do nothing but crowd the room
like uninvited guests
who always ask for glasses of wine
though you want to close out
but they always persist in drunkenness
fence it love
you know what it can do to your bed
and the linens
and the bathroom
it gives you a sense of beginning
a feeling of eternity
when you have forgotten how to moan
fence out loneliness
you know how it destroys you
and deprives you of much needed sleep
when your eyes sink
like boats in the whirlpools of madness
but at any rate when these fenced out matters
still remain
such as the loneliness that you cannot drive away
or the doubt that still cling like dusts in the furniture
no matter how you dust them away
or the despair that appears like blood stains
in your pastel green carpets
well, why not be with them
and make them feel that they are at home with you
perhaps
they mean no harm
they do nothing
except to make you feel
that you are not alone
that happiness is a freak
that life is like all these
whole in sadness
undefeated in our psychological wars
that after all
they are your sources of strength
the tests of your mettle.
welcome them
after all they have nothing to stay
except in your
house of realities.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Humbug
Across the fence we stand on looking;
Nevertheless, I can see your glances,
hear your talks, smell your presence,
feel the currents and taste the essence
of your vision, in thought, part by part
and the response I got to my dart.
Notwithstanding the fence, we’re not apart.
Over the fence we do yet communicate.
Corporals are fenced to ensure chastity;
Any fence to forbid sexual amity?
Then why is all this humbug?
10.04.99
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Just A Fence
I say this in truth and not in pretense
All else I wish to own is just a fence
A fence that is made out of steel or wood
Placed around my property as it should
Around my home to protect like a guard
So my dogs won't escape from their yard
I want them to be free without a restraint
To run and play without a neighbors complaint
A fence also to be a barrier from the street
So the many dangers or hazards they will not meet
But sadly I am poor and I have no extra expense
So all that I wish for, is just a fence.
poem by Randy McClave
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Over There
The fence is long and high where we love
You cant see the other side where they live
Ive spied with my little eye
And Ive sighed with my little sigh
But it seems Ive give all that I can give
Every hour I have to count to ten
And a thousand times Ive thought again
But it seems Ive given all that I can give
Is there anyone there
Here is the fence that they built
{over there}
This is the fence that hate built
Is anyone there
{over there}
This is the fence that turns one into two
I want to break through but Im though if I do
Ive tried with my little try
And Ive cried with my little cry
But it seems that the gate holds the only clue
Every hour I have to count to ten
And a thousand times Ive though again
But it seems Ive given all that I can give
Is there anyone there
Here is the fence that they built
{over there}
This is the fence that hate built
Is anyone there
{over there}
[brilliant solo from stan the man]
Every hour I have to count to ten
And a thousand times Ive thought again
Is there anyone there
Here is the fence that they built
{over there}
This is the fence that hate built
Is anyone there
{over there}
Is there anyone there
Here is the fence that they built
{over there}
This is the fence that hate built
Is anyone there
{over there}
But it seems Ive give all that I can give
Is there anyone there
Here is the fence that they built
{over there}
This is the fence that hate built
Is anyone there
{over there}
song performed by by Housemartins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On the Boundary
I Love the ancient boundary-fence,
That mouldering chock-and-log.
When I go ride the boundary
I let the old horse jog
And take his pleasure in and out
Where the sandalwood grows dense,
And tender pines clasp hands across
The log that tops the fence.
’Tis pleasant on the boundary-fence,
These sultry summer days;
A mile away, outside the scrub,
The plain is all ablaze,
The sheep are panting on the camps,
The heat is so intense;
But here the shade is cool and sweet
Along the boundary-fence.
I love to loaf along the fence,
So does my collie dog,
He often finds a spotted cat
Hid in a hollow log;
He’s very near as old as I
And ought to have more sense,
I’ve hammered him so many times
Along the boundary-fence.
My mother says that boundary fence
Must surely be bewitched;
The old man says that through that fence
The neighbours are enriched;
It’s always down, and through the gaps
Our stock all get them hence,
I takes me half my time to watch
The doings of that fence.
But should you seek the reason
You won’t travel very far,
’Tis there a mile away among
The murmuring Belar:
The Jones’s block joins on to ours,
And so, in consequence,
It’s part of Polly’s work to ride
Their side the boundary-fence.
poem by Barcroft Henry Thomas Boake
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The Fence
Around my yard there stands a fence
It keeps the outside world out and I safe within
Though the structure is not that immense
It does the purpose as which it was built for and meant.
Neighbors and strangers it keeps out of my yard
Along with their trash and pets which does it harm
I am my yards protector, landscaper and guard
As it is my beauty, and not a trash bin or someone's farm.
My fence allows and welcomes the sunshine and the wind
Mother nature is always welcomed to visit and roam
The squirrels and the birds are always welcomed in
And welcome are the bee's with the pollen they've sewn.
Around my yard there stands a fence
It protects my yard from the enemies about
Too me it makes such perfect sense
Better to stop the entering, than for me to scream and shout.
As my yard is not the playground for a child to use
Or a shortcut for many persons to walk or run
As it it my yard which I won't neglect or abuse
And the work that I do on it, it will never be done.
In the summertime there will be plants to raise
And the leaves to rake when it becomes the fall
While hoping mother nature with me will always stay
And because of my fence, it will protect it all.
Around my yard there stands a fence
It protects and guards my yard everyday of the year
To others though it might cause an offense
As though it tells the people, not to come over here.
It is my yard which is mine to raise it like a child
To cut it and groom it and keep it nice for all to see
But truly it is GOD'S acre, which I saved from the wild
Then through the wonder of nature, in life I do believe.
So as days will come you will see myself in my yard
And sometimes you might see me nervous and tense
I hate clutter and trash so from there it is always barred
Also to protect my yard and myself, is my mighty fence.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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Defenses
She'll never say it
This, nor the other:
She will never
ever
love again
The fence her fortress
forewarning 'bidding
'boding
The fence her offense
insipid speech of silence
tepid
The fence is fencing
The fence her armour
sword word arrow
passive aggressive
disconnected
sultry desultory dagger
But when she lowers her glasses
in such the way smiling
i steal a glimpse
there is no defense
copyright Randy Resh 2008
The Toronto Quarterly,2009
poem by Randy Resh
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The Cat, The House And The Trees
there is this cat
that looks like a feline version of batman
though without a cape
and a bat-mobile
it sits on a fence
and waits
the trees murmur
and the house stares at it
curiously without blinking
this cat has one life to live
the other eight it lost to the
years of his giving up
that despair and
psychological confusion
now it is prepared to give
the last one
the house is afraid
and closes its door
the wooden fence shakes
like a bridge losing its hold on the other side
tomorrow the cat shall be dead
yet it is prepared with an epitaph
of no regret, its life is always lived
for another
and this is it that really matter
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Denotation and connotation
Fence means boundary by denotation.
Fence means barrier by connotation.
Good fence makes good crops.
Good fence makes good neigbours.
.25.12.2006.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The Other Greener Pasture
that is the usual case
when you look over the fence that you just built
your eyes gaze to the other side
greener than yours
i mean, the grass, not the greenness of your iris
if you could have built a higher fence
so that you can narrow your gaze
within the four corners of your walls
and live this life that is all yours to own
you could have been happier here
but life is not meant to be
just that
four walls, a higher fence, taking all that come
sitting down
and breathing the air inside
the lungs
which until now have not seen the
rays of the sun
play the game
climb a tree
try jumping over your fences
it is only then when
you realize
that after all
your grass has always been
greener
your air more fresh
your fence most stable.
after all you got a poodle
a rose, a butterfly, a bird,
and this PC
that knows how to write poetry.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The House Story
the fence keeps a happy disposition.
it does not need it. The house does.
despite its disagreement with the door,
somehow, i gives a square disposition,
as though, everything here is tolerable,
the house is keeping so many secrets
shying away from the scrutiny of visitors
but it trusts the fence and can sleep
soundly at night, except the light bulb
which is fixed at the back of the kitchen
it keeps on blinking, wanting to tell it all,
but the master switch of the basement is quick
everything is shut off, and then the silence
reigns, it is the queen, it grieves
without a word, it takes in what the house
cannot take anymore, and the fence as the
facade, maintains its happy disposition,
deceiving all that merely pass by.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Sitting On A Fence
Sitting on a fence is a man who sees no sense in fighting
Sitting on a fence is a man who sees no sense at all
Sitting on a fence is a man who strokes his twenty beards
Sitting on a fence is a man who drink real ale
But the real problem with this man
Is he says he cant when he can
Hed rather not get his hands dirty
Hell still be there when hes thirty
I told myself to keep my mouth shut
But I still end up saying if and but
I lied to myself right from the start
And Ive just worked out that Im falling apart
Sitting on a fence
Sitting on a fence is a man who looks up to his guardian
Sitting on a fence is a man who swings from poll to poll
Sitting on a fence is a man who sees both sides of both sides
Sitting on a fence is a man who looks down on opinion
But the real problem with this man
Is he says he cant when he can
Hes rather not get his hands dirty
Hell still be there when he is thirty
I told myself to keep my mouth shut
But I still end up saying if and but
I lied to myself right from the start
And Ive just worked out that Im falling apart
Sitting on a fence
song performed by by Housemartins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In baseball you hit your home run over the right-field fence, the left-field fence, the center-field fence. Nobody cares. In golf everything has got to be right over second base.
quote by Ken Harrelson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Fence
I built the fence on a cold grey hill
With bar and shovel and axe and maul
And quite a measure of toil and will,
For I needed a paddock to clear and till,
So I dug the holes by the bloodwoods tall
And I felled the ones that grew on the line
And cut them into a handy length
That would serve the purpose of my design,
For each a link in the fence's spine,
And each would add to the fence its strength.
Each post I barked, and I sapped and stood
In a line as straight as a rifle shot,
And the sap ran red from the honest wood
Of the native gum that was sound and good
And with age would harden and never rot,
Then the wire, I strung, and I strained it tight,
And each post I fixed to the jagged wire,
So my fence was finished by fall of night
When my gaze was drawn to a distant light
And I turned for the warmth of home and fire.
© Dennis N. O'Brien,2011 - 2012
poem by Dennis N. O'Brien
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Grand-Pa's Whim
While for me gapes the greedy grave
It don't make sense
That I should have a crazy crave
To paint our fence.
Yet that is what I aim to do,
Though dim my sight:
Jest paint them aged pickets blue,
Or green or white.
Jest squat serenely in the sun
Wi' brush an' paint,
An' gay them pickets one by one,
--A chore! It ain't.
The job is joy. Although I'm slow
I save expense:
So folks, let me before I go,
Smart that ol' fence.
Them pickets with my hands I made,
When young and spry;
I coloured them a gleeful shade
To glad the eye.
So now as chirpy as a boy,
'Ere I go hence,
Once more let me jest bright to joy
Our picket fence.
poem by Robert William Service
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Shadow Of A Doubt
shadow of a doubt (a complex kid)"
By tom petty
Copyright 1979 skyhill publishing co., inc. (bmi)
All rights reserved. used by permission.
There goes my baby, there goes my only one.
I think she loves me, but she don't wanna let on.
Yeah, she likes to keep me guessin',
She's got me on the fence with that little bit of mystery,
She's a complex kid and she's always been so hard to figure out.
Yeah, she always likes to leave me with a shadow of a doubt.
Sometimes at night i wait around 'til she gets off.
She don't like workin', she says she hates her boss,
But she's got me askin' questions, she's got me on the fence
With that little certain something, she's a complex kid,
And she's always been so hard to get around.
She always likes to leave me with a shadow of a doubt.
Just a shadow of a doubt, she says it keeps me runnin'.
I'm trying to figure out if she's leadin' up to something
And when she's dreamin', sometimes she sings in french,
But in the morning, she don't remember it.
But she's got me thinking 'bout it,
Yeah, she's got me on the fence
With that little bit of mystery, she's a complex kid,
And she's always been so hard to live without.
Yeah, she always likes to leave me, with a shadow of a doubt.
song performed by by Tom Petty
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shriner's Park
I wonder what your doing
in the night out there
is a sad summer breath tangled in your hair
can you hear the lonely engines
screaming through the town
there's no where to run
when the darkness comes down
is there a song inside of you
that you tried to forget
like your fake id and your mom's cigarettes
does it take you back
is the vision intense
you and me in shriners park
trying to make some sense
you were just seventeen
but your laughter was mild
you liked my dreams you thought i was wild
is there a rythm in your step now
that reminds you of a dance
do you push it all away
cause you never took the chance
you'd sneak out your window
when i'd come for you
id be waiting in the street light on 8th Avenue
you'd slip into my car
we'd drive down past the fence
you and me in shriner's park
trying to make some sense
did you feel like you were crazy
when they sent you far away
did no one have the answers
when you hung your head to pray
you could not let yourself dream
never dare believe
you could ever be more
than you were born to be
do you lock up you house
like you locked up your past
if i were to call
could you free me at last
could you slip into my car
could we drive down past the fence
you and me in shriner's park
trying to make some sense
song performed by by Melissa Etheridge
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I am' poem
I am the dog bound by a collar
I wonder what is beyond this wooden fence
I hear the sound of cars in the distance
I see, through the cracks, people passing
I want to be free from this collar bound by chains
I am the dog bound by a collar
I pretend to be beyond the fence
I feel the grass between my paws
I touch the dirt beneith the grass
I worry of what will become of me
I cry in worry on a moonlit night
I am the dog bound be a collar
I understand the life of a dog
I say no to the life
I dream about leaving this yard
I try to leave, but fail
I hope that I, to, can be free from these chains
I am the dog bound by a collar.
(Please comment, ty)
poem by Dylan Griffin
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As Though There Is Meaning
oftentimes
to make life as new
we make
beginnings
a fence here
a garden within
a new house
in the middle of
the land
and then the old
storms come
again
there is always
this instinct
for destruction
for which we must
be all
thankful
for soon we shall
begin anew
another fence there
a new garden here
another house to replace
the old broken one
in the middle of
the land
and so there is
nowhere
or no one
someone is always
here
something
makes the tick
in truth
just another
deception
for us to sow the
earth again
as though
there is meaning
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Exploring Your Options
What side do you stand on,
In the midst of change?
Or have you chosen a comfortable position,
In which to remain sitting on the fence.
In the hopes that doing so,
Will convince time to let you go...
Ignored.
There are clear divisions and splits,
Beginning to exist.
And a straddling of a fence,
Will not permit a sitting to stay comforted.
What side do you stand on,
In the midst of change?
Or have you chosen a comfortable position,
In which to remain sitting on the fence.
In the hopes that doing so,
Will convince time to let you go...
Ignored.
Without exploring your options.
And those you still have!
But not for too long.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Senseless
Perish the thought that you should not.
It makes no sense to be so dense.
Please don't put up such a fence.
It all feels so intense.
I know I'll never be the best.
I never could pass the test.
You said you love me.
Clearly this was just a jest.
You're leaving now and I must confess,
with your parting I feel like death.
From now on my life is bereft,
of all the meaning and the feeling.
Hopelessness eats me slowly creeping.
Despair vastly deepining.
It's over now I hope you're happy.
Because I'm feeling pretty crappy.
poem by Michael McParland
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