High Noon
high noon
time to cook
for my wife
got to fry
the fresh fish
warm the rice
and place
the plate for
one person
only...
i have already
eaten just
before high
noon
left-overs
last breakfast
no problem
keep on writing
i am reading
your best poem
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
High Noon
A leather life from the prairie to the blue, blue ocean
A one horse town of promised gold and western fortune
Oh, token slug of bourbon
Time after time
High noon - riding a dream
Lie after lie
High noon - not what they seem
But it only happened in film
Hot dust and lust, a dawn to dusk can lead to danger
I bought a lover locket - a barroom dolly -
Bathtub stranger (swear to me calamity again!)
Sasperella
Red neck fella
Lace umbrella
Be my girl!
When I find the west is won
Got to keep on rolling on and on
Time after time
High noon - riding a dream
Lie after lie
High noon - not what they seem
Mile after mile
High noon - building a dream
Lie after lie
High noon - not what they seem
song performed by by Haircut 100
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Varied Menu
Chicken and rice.
Fish and rice.
Rice and chicken.
Rice and fish.
Varied menu - 'ish!
Nice jungle place.
There's plenty of space.
Fresh clean air
But that dietary pair,
Fish or chicken
.....Not again!
So more trekking with a frown
Back to Georgetown.....
poem by George BernardBloodyShaw
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Do not expect too much
This is it, this is poetry
Written by this man
He is looking by his window
To the world like a little boy
Still wondering, scribbling
Some figures of man and
Superman, putting them wings
Imagining that soon they will fly,
Do not expect too much
I myself do not have wings
I do not promise you any
I am simply writing the view
The green ricefields I do not
Have rice for you to cook I do
Not have water for you to drink
I have these words, only you
Can convert them to steamed
Rice to cakes to bacons to ham
To fish to sea to clouds to sun
Or simply coffee for you to sip
When you still hunger for breakfast.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Tut-Ench-Amon (Tutankhamen)
Been and seen down flight from chicago
All aboard the African Queen
I am on a night boat down to cairo
Feeling like a tourist with a foreign man abroad
Tells it like he thinks it is, but I know he is fraud
There is a map tucked under his shoulder
and a cap perched on his head
If he looked any older, he might as well be dead
Dressed in army surplus the files around me swarm
On a mission without a purpose, I wish I'd never been born
By the light of a pale moon - Tutankhamen
Half past high noon - Tutankhamen
Put you in the picture - 1884
I'm up to date on the literature
but I have never been here before
There is a black boy on the corner trailing me behind
Stalking like a vulture money on his mind
In the shadow of the giant sphinx the archeological tale
Before the eastern sun sinks I'll be learning braille
By the light of a pale moon - Tutankhamen
Half past high noon - Tutankhamen
They are playing our tune - Tutankhamen
Half past high noon - Tutankhamen
By the light of a, light of a pale moon - Tutankhamen
Half past high noon - Tutankhamen
By the light of a pale moon - Tutankhamen
Half past high noon - Tutankhamen
song performed by by Falco
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Noontime Pains
Aloud The sirens sound loudly for the arrival of high noon
The world stops
& snoops The heart keeps
Leaps
Even in high noon Pains, stones,
wide eyes till one p.m. and some bland stories to keep this harsh day moving
till five.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Broken heart
Poets have broken hearts
My wife Tapaswini alleged
And without broken hearts
No one would be a poet
My wife Tapaswini clarified.
The poet wonders in his world
The poet work wonders through
His words and sentences
And my wife Tapaswini left
No space for my replied.
My wife Tapaswini left the place
Where I was and my wife Tapaswini
Could not reach me where I am
And the sparrow the crow all
Arranged their feast with joy
Where I am writing poem.
Where I was writing I was there
Where I am writing I am there
My wife Tapaswini always with me
I was not with my wife Tapaswini
While writing and the allegation
Of my wife Tapaswini I certified
And I attested One can take it granted.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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The Breakfast
Look, the golden plate is ready set
On the round table for breakfast.
Glitters reflecting tinges of my blood
In tune with the table of mud
With the green medow streaking to fret.
Listen, worshiping Aurora at dawwn daily
Comes to me that golden plate by priority.
The green paddy rooted in deep water
Fans soothingly with its ricy flavour.
Feel, it makes golden plate more catchy.
I cook the rice to petalsoft
Adding ghee and jaggery enough to taste.
I resolve with my prayers in bundle
To offer the made rice i.e 'pongal'
To the above deity of splendid light.
On the muddy table, over the glisten
Placed a plantain leaf, served on
The pongal.I then whisper'my sun,
Enlightened by the plate of your glisten'!
poem by Indira Renganathan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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High Society Calypso
(Cole Porter)
Louis Armstrong - 1956
[Armstrong]
Just dig that scenery floating by,
We're now approaching Newport, Rhode I.
We've been, for years, In Variety,
But, Cholly Knickerbocker, now we're going to be
[All]
In High, High So-
High So-ci-,
High So-ci-ety.
[Armstrong]
I wanna play for my former pal-
He runs the local jazz festival.
His name is Dexter and he's good news,
But sumping kind of tells me that he's nursing the blues
[All]
In High, High So-,
High So-ci-,
High So-ci-ety.
[Armstrong]
He's got the blues 'cause his wife, alas,
Thought writing songs was beneath his class,
But writing songs he'd not stop, of course,
And so she flew to Vegas for a quickie divorce
[All]
In High, High So-,
High So-ci-,
High So-ci-ety.
[Armstrong]
To make him sadder, his former wife
begins tomorrow a brand-new life.
She started lately a new affair
And now the silly chick is gonna marry a square
[All]
In High So-,
High So-ci-,
High So-ci-ety.
[Armstrong]
But, Brother Dexter, just trust your Satch,
To stop that wedding and kill that match.
I'll toot my trumpet to start the fun,
And play in such a way that she'll come back to you, son,
[All]
In High, High So-
High So-ci-,
High So-ci-ety.
song performed by by Louis Armstrong
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Ghosts' High Noon
When the night wind howls in the chimney cowls, and the bat in the
moonlight flies,
And inky clouds, like funeral shrouds, sail over the midnight skies -
When the footpads quail at the night-bird's wail, and black dogs
bay the moon,
Then is the spectres' holiday - then is the ghosts' high noon!
As the sob of the breeze sweeps over the trees, and the mists lie
low on the fen,
From grey tombstones are gathered the bones that once were women
and men,
And away they go, with a mop and a mow, to the revel that ends too
soon,
For cockcrow limits our holiday - the dead of the night's high
noon!
And then each ghost with his ladye-toast to their churchyard beds
take flight,
With a kiss, perhaps, on her lantern chaps, and a grisly grim "good
night";
Till the welcome knell of the midnight bell rings forth its
jolliest tune,
And ushers our next high holiday - the dead of the night's high
noon!
poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Zoom
Zoom, just one look and then my heart went boom
Suddenly and we were on the moon
Flyin' high in a neon sky, oh oh
Bang, just one touch and all the church bells rang
Heaven called and all the angels sang
Sunrise shine in the midnight sky, oh oh
Oh zoom, you chased the day away
High noon, the moon and stars came out to play
Then my whole wide world went zoom
(High as a rainbow as we went flyin' by)
Faster and faster we were higher than high
For once in my lifetime I was finally free
And you gave that to me
Zoom, you chased the day away
High noon, the moon and stars came out to play
Then my whole world went zoom
Moonbeams dancin' in the afternoon
Shadows blowin' as the roses bloom
Lookin' down on a wonderland
Smack just one kiss and I was outta whack
All at once there was no turnin' back
All so far above the brighter star, oh oh
Oh zoom, you chased the day away
High noon, the moon and stars came out to play
Then my whole wide world went zoom
(High as a rainbow as we went flyin' by)
Faster and faster we were higher than high
For once in my lifetime I was finally free
And you gave that to me
song performed by by Fat Larry's Band, music by Larry James, lyrics by Len Barry from Pop. RnB (October 1982)
Submitted by Cameron Oakley
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Kaleidoscope and Harpsichord
As I've told my wife too many times,
the meaning of any poem hides
in the marriage of cadence and sound.
Vowels on a carousel,
consonants on a calliope,
whistles and bells,
we need them all
tickling our ears.
Otherwise, the lines
are gristle and fat, no meat.
Is it any wonder, then,
my wife has a problem
with any poem I give her to read
for a second opinion, especially
when the poem has no message
and I'm simply trying to hear
what I'm saying and don't care
if I understand it.
The other night in bed
I gave her another poem to read
and afterward she said this poem
was no different than the others.
She had hoped I'd improve.
'After all, ' she said,
'you've been writing for years
but reading a poem like this is
like looking through a kaleidoscope
while listening to a harpsichord.'
Point well taken,
point well said.
But then I asked her
what should a man do
if he has careened for years
through the caves of his mind
spelunking for the right
line for a poem
only to hear his wife say
after reading one of his poems
that it was like
'looking through a kaleidoscope
while listening to a harpsichord.'
What should he do-quit?
'Not a chance, '
she said this morning,
enthroned at the kitchen table,
as regal as ever in her fluttery gown
and buttering her English muffin
with long, languorous strokes
Van Gogh would envy.
'He should write even more,
all day and all night, if need be.
After all, ' she said, 'my line
about the kaleidoscope and harpsichord
still needs a poem of its own.
It's all meat, no gristle, no fat.'
poem by Donal Mahoney
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The New Man
1
on those younger days
when i went up to the high and lonely mountain
i wrote about a young emaciated brown girl in the faraway hill
thriving on a chunk of muscovado
sugar and a handful of off-white steamed rice for breakfast
there was no dried fish on the plate of a banana leaf
i had written about an unjust social order
and i dreamed of immediate reforms
it was when i too was struggling then
over a loss of an identity in the city
over a poverty that struck us like a plague
of the century
2
now things have changed a lot
i cannot trace that girl
and the place where she once lived had been all erased from the map
the road had been closed
and the hill flattened to the ground
and i do not long for change anymore
my voice has mellowed like a cat with a wriggling fish in its mouth
it is silenced by my own social sinfulness
this contentment from within
because the social order now has fed me well
i have become a man stripped of its restless soul
masked and displayed as another useful tool
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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How Things Really Went
when he turned pale and fainted
he blamed it on his dieting
he said he did not eat breakfast
that morning
when his eyes turned red at noon
he said he got sore eyes
and blamed the knob of the
door for the infection
and on the night when he locked
his room he said he wanted to
sleep early as he lacked sleep
writing his poems
he drank poison a la socrates
and when he died
the froth on his mouth looked like
the bloom of a
while million flower
he did not tell the truth
that his wife left him with another man
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Alankar (Decor) -30
Kitchen clash (Double Rondeau)
How difficult it is to cook
In hot summer how a wife to cook
'Take rest, shall buy food from outside'
He says with concern on her side
Wife is happy she need not cook
Happy so life runs like a brook
Variety food, pleased they look
Seasoned hot, they know kitchen's stride
How difficult
Time in hand changed is her outlook
Changed is also her old cook-look
Styleless to stylish in set glide
Makes her new with glow to her pride
She can speak on her strife to cook
How difficult
How difficult but back a cook?
Daughter visits with siren look
There, stirs in dad's heart a high tide
Sneaks'cooking has been set aside
These days mom does not at all cook'
Enough for her to word and hook
Daughter counsels mom back to cook
To be in shifty husband's stride
How difficult!
Luck is but a wheel in life-book
So such a wife can't overlook
And mom vows never to abide
Honeyed words but put them aside
Blamed wife telling herself 'to cook
How difficult! '
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Alive
Reading this fresh poem
This new poem this alive poem
I want to show you young man
Go go go and go and
I have cleared the road.
Asking where to go estopped
Making a gap with scripture
You are my scripture and
I'm talking to you
I'm writing for you
And you a fresh
You are a new
You are alive.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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With All The Reading and Writing I Do
With all the reading and writing I do
With all the work of the mind and heart
There comes a time
It can be any time
There comes a time
When the Poem must enter-
The Poem?
The deeper feeling-
The Music of the soul-
What I most need to say inside
The Writing which somehow surpasses all the other
In its inner intensity in its deepest feeling –
I write a poem now
All my heart mind soul
Go into every word and phrase.
The Poem? The Poem?
For which I write to live
And which through writing
I most live in Writing-
The Poem that this is.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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I'd Rather Be Loved
I'd rather be loved,
Than to be painted...
As somebody that I aint,
To then be tainted.
I'd rather be loved,
Than to be sainted.
As someone that's depicted,
In a way to be shamed.
And by...
The light of the moon,
I want to be seen as the person that I am!
And by...
The dawn until noon,
I want to be seen as the person that I am!
I'd rather be loved...
Under bright lighted moon.
And,
Seen to be the person that I am.
I'd rather be loved...
From the dawning 'til noon.
By somebody who completely understands.
I'd rather be loved...
Under bright lighted moon.
I'd rather be loved...
From the dawning 'til noon.
And...
By that one who knows and understands.
I'd rather be loved...
From the dawning 'til noon.
And,
When night falls we know there's no demands.
And...
When night falls we're there and understand.
And...
We know what we do and what we can.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Because I Got High (Radio Edit)
I was gonna clean my room until I got high
I was gonna get up and find the broom but then I got high
my room is still messed up and I know why
- cause I got high
cause I got high
cause I got high
I was gonna go to class before I got high
I coulda cheated and I coulda passed but I got high
I am taking it next semester and I know why
- cause I got high
cause I got high
cause I got high
I was gonna go to court before I got high
I was gonna pay my child support but then I got high
they took my whole paycheck and I know why
- cause I got high
cause I got high
cause I got high
I wasnt gonna run from the cops but I was high
I was gonna pull right over and stop but I was high
Now I am a paraplegic
- because I got high
because I got high
because I got high
I was gonna make love to you but then I got high
I was gonna eat yo p***y too but then I got high
now I'm j***ing off and I know why
- cause I got high
cause I got high
cause I got high
I messed up my entire life because I got high
I lost my kids and wife because I got high
now I'm sleeping on the sidewalk and I know why
- cause I got high
cause I got high
cause I got high
I'm gonna stop singing this song because I'm high
I'm singing this whole thing wrong because I'm high
and if I dont sell one copy I know why
- cause I'm high
cause I'm high
cause I'm high
song performed by by Afroman from The Good Times
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I have wisdom
I have wisdom
I am writing poem.
I am not a child of market
I am not calling you to gossip
I am not writing a poem
To divert your attention
From main point of discussion.
I am writing poem for you
And you are reading my poem
With full seriousness.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lasso The Moon
She carries the water from the well in the morning
While the sand burns her feet the sun only stares
And the loneliness lingers with slow grasping fingers
As the afternoon withers the flowers in her hair
Then night fills the sky as she sits on the hillside
And memories drift by like clouds past the stars
Recalling romances and all the bright chances
But none of them lasted. they passed through her heart
And she says -
Where is a man who can build a good fire
With a passion as wide as the sky at high noon
A man whose hand is strong as his longing
Where is the man who can lasso the moon
She falls asleep and her dreams are her blanket
And she shares with the moon the secret she knows
As the dawn leaves its tears to wash the dry valley
The tears of a woman can wash a mans soul
And she says -
Where is a man who can build a good fire
With a passion as wide as the sky at high noon
A man whose hand is strong as his longing
Where is the man who can lasso the moon
And she says -
Where is a man who can build a good fire
With a passion as wide as the sky at high noon
A man whose hand is strong as his longing
Where is the man who can lasso the moon
And I say -
I am a man who can build a good fire
And my passions as wide as the sky at high noon
Come take my hand, its as strong as your longing
Just say the word and Ill lasso the moon
song performed by by Level 42
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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