Hot, Hot, Hot
it is hot outside
temperatures are rising
i am sweating
and i am also hot
for almost everything
you see
it is like a stone
surrounded by sand
the sun is up
and there are no trees
no grass
no grasshopper in sight
there is fuming in my mind
i am bursting
with steam
i send out a scream
' i am alive! ! i am fuming! !
i am human.
Now the world is listening.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
A Grasshopper Must Jump
offer young grasshopper
tiny roots of wisdom
to perceive her reality
grasshopper wants desires
to jump ever more boldly
from grass blade to blade
see how high I can jump
see how far I can jump
screams young grasshopper
grasshopper wants praise
grasshopper wants esteem
grasshopper wants no advice
grasshopper hears with legs
so jump blindly grasshopper
learn own leap life lessons
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Send Your Mind
Van Morrison
Bang Masters
Transcriber: [email protected]
(guitar intro)
(Send your mind)
(Send your mind)
(Send your mind)
(Send your mind)
Well you're out there, on the highway
While you're drivin', a-roll on by
Goin' south between the bridges
While the river's runnin' dry
And if ya can't come home
Please send your mind
(Send your mind)
(Send your mind)
(Send your mind)
(Send your mind)
Now you're talkin', where ya goin'
On the train that sees the road
'Cross the nation, passing stations
While the night is as black as coal
And if you can't come home
Please send your mind
(Send your mind)
(Send your mind)
Ooo!
(Guitar solo and Instrumental)
(Send your mind)
(Send your mind)
Well, if your handle ain't, on your heartbeat
And your headed between the sheet
And the sign isn't from the lamp post
On the corner of the street
And if ya can't come home
Please send your mind
(Send your mind)
(Send your mind)
Ooo-ooo-we
(Send your mind)
(Send your mind)
Ooo-ooo-wee-ooo
(Send your mind)
A we-we-eee
(Send your mind)
A we-eee
(Send your mind)
Aah, little darlin'
(Send your mind)
Come on home
(Send your mind)
Come on home
(Send your mind)
Aah, send it, send it, send it
Send your mind
(Send your mind)
Ah, try to send it, baby
(Send your mind)
All ya gotta do
(Send your mind)
Shoo-be-do, shoo-be-do, shoo-be-do
(Send your mind)
Aah, send your mind
(Send your mind)
(Send your mind)
Go on send it darlin'
(Send your mind)
Come on home
(Send your mind)
~
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The deadly Leviathan
God’s ancient plaything
lays motionless while around it
fishes, small plants and steam are rising
and it settles down bit by bit
while in its stomach burns an ancient fire
and very deep down it swallows fishes by the ton
before sleeping some more is its only desire
but its eyes are always switched on
while it waits aeons for Michael to return
and in its heart hatred and longing for destruction burns
where it is gigantic in size, lying like a mountain of fuming rock
and slowly one of its many heads turns and turns
trying to comprehend,
while it lies if all its energy is spent
waiting, always waiting
to bring earth to its devastation, to its end.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Love & Heat
Heat has a strange affect on the human mind
Sensations are felt strongly and often undefined
It appears that temperatures are rising from within
To match the sweltering heat outside like a twin
It feels like a fever crawling slowly through veins
Spreading all over until no cool spot remains
Some people feel a rage when driving or agitation
But to me the heat feels like a welcome sedation
It appears as my senses are running in a low gear
And everything is fuzzy and I'm unsure and unclear
The heat surrounds me with a steaming outer shell
It paralyzes my reactions and invades every cell
When the humidity rises and temperatures are high
The wind feels like heat waves or a blazing drive-by
The hot breeze invades my pores and heats my heart
I can sense the blood pumping not needing a kick start
Running down my collarbone I feel a wet salty trail
And I am helpless against the reactions you prevail
In the heat of the day I like to come together real slow
Your touch silencing my thoughts and my mind I let go
When our bodies collide surrounded by vapor and steam
Making love in slow motion I perceive like a great dream
The ceiling fan cuts through thick layers of scorching heat
But our bodies are breathing together and are complete
poem by Kristina Louisa Carr
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Please do not cut the green grass!
I am the grass; I cover all.
-Carl Sandburg
'They cut the grass their children to run
And where do I play with my little ones? '
The old Grasshopper Father cries.
'Please do not cut the grass
As your children have enough parks to run,
It's a sin that Lawnmower cuts not only the grass?
Thin necks of our whole nation too! '
The old Grasshopper Mother shouts.
*To brother Premji Premji in gratitude!
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Lasagna
this is lasagna
your favorite dish
at the bottom is
love
on the second layer
is regret
the fillings of
meaty lust and
spices of
hot desire and on the
top layer is this
pretense
one does not bite it
and then
you settle for hate
fuming madness
of love
unrequited
you wish the tongue
is dead
or the teeth of the
non-taker
crumple into
sand
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Irony
this world has known so much anger
it is in fact bored with anger
and fed-up with violence
and so i will not add to it
i will give it laughter to lighten its mood
it is fuming
it is square-faced
it is into serious trouble
i will give it the comfort that it deserves
a square meter of green grass
a few liters of rain
a kilometer of a river
twenty grams of clouds
two trees filled with ripe fruits
three cans of crystal blue sea
a tiny sun inside a glass of water
three stars inside a bucket of milk
a moon inside a wrapper of biscuit
i promise i will not urinate on it
neither shall i spit in any of its corners
i will whisper to its bosom
i love you
i will tell its rainbow
i will care for you
i will be careful in my steps
not to hurt its fingertips.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Oriental Girl
she covers her mouth with her fan
she looks down when i look at her
and when i look at another
she fans herself as though she is fuming
with madness
she closes her fan
walks away
i am not foolish
i know what to do
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Bursting Through
I'm counting stars
Lying under
Watching you through my walls
All the lights have gone out
I know you're listening now
You've been spinning around
Turning slowly
Orbiting round my house
It's a feeling I guess (Single Version: "It's a feeling I get")
I know you're listening now
Warm me today
Warm me today
Filter in my lonely room
Warm me today
Warm me today
Look outside the sun it's
Bursting through
Bursting through oh it's
Filling up this room
Now my fingers are cold
But I have touched you
You're all I need to know
Don't fade from me now
I know you're listening somehow
All you can give
All you can give
Twisting bright
It's more than light it's
All you can give
All you can give
Look outside the sun it's
Bursting through
Bursting through
Oh it's filling up this room
Warm me today
Warm me today
Look outside the sun it's
Bursting through
Bursting through
Oh it's filling up this room
song performed by by Bic Runga from Drive
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Grasshopper
Grasshopper
grasshopper
all day long
we hear your scraping
summer song
like
rusty
fiddles
in
the
grass
as through
the meadow
path
we pass
such funny legs
such funny feet
and how we wonder
what you eat
maybe a single blink of dew
sipped from a clover leaf would do
then high in air
once more you spring
to fall in grass again
and sing.
poem by Conrad Potter Aiken
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So Long Suicide
Now goodbye baby its time to break
Habits that youve faced
Sweet sorrow while the cherished dead
Oh in my mouth, every breath I take
Although I need you I dont want to bleed for you
So long suicide
Gone right outta sight outta mind
Leave me alone and abandoned
Hello, Im alive
Im lone and alive and I know
In my bones I know what Im good for
Hello Im alive
Im lone and alive
Yes I know, in my bones
I know what Im doing
I stole the beauty and taste the hurt
Theres always time for pretty flowers
Growing in the dirt
But time is your needle into my heart
And I must be hollow
Cause I cant follow there
(chorus)
Hello, Im alive
Im lone and alive and alone
In my bones I know what Im good for
Hello Im alive
Im lone and alive
Yes I know, in my bones
I know what Im doing
Im scared of being all unknowing
But I swear to live like anyone
And you know its hard to make it
But a light goes on.
And after all the crash and swell
We are just human
And after all is said and done
Were only human
Youre out of sight and out of mind
Im saying so long suicide
The half dream shape of yesterday
In bloom tomorrow
song performed by by Duran Duran
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To Frinton-on-Sea by Train - The Annual Pilgrimage,1910
When in the large compartment,
Everyone was seated.
And all the luggage loaded,
The family group completed.
Excitement as the train now
Leaves the local station.
Everyone perceiving
A feeling of elation.
The Servants in the Third Class
All with faces radiant,
The train now fairly straining
Up it's first steep gradient.
Smoke rising from the engine,
Through the countryside it races,
Such a rattling and a clattering,
Rhythmic chugging as it paces.
Nurse is quietly rocking baby,
Mother dozing, Father reading.
Children gazing through the window,
Trees and streams seem to be speeding.
Realisation, train is stopping,
Doors are opening, whistles blare,
All alighting from the carriage,
Platforms busy. Great sea air!
Call the porter for the luggage,
What! No luggage, this can't be,
'Did you tip the porter Father? '
Mother calls out nervously.
Father fuming calls the Driver,
Calls ths Station Master too,
Sorry Sir, it's not our doing
We will send it on to you.
Father marching to the taxi,
Mother fretting following along,
Nurse with baby shrieking loudly
Children calling, 'What is wrong? '.
Father should have tipped the porter,
Much more than a farthing's worth,
So he didn't load the luggage,
In the 'First Class' luggage berth.
It arrived early next morning,
By the first train down the track,
So as to the moral of this story,
If you're too mean, watch out Jack!
© Ernestine Northover
This poem was written from a story handed down through the family, and the 'Father' was my husband's Great Grandfather, and it is absolutely true, he was a very mean man. A Farthing being the lowest coinage of that time. We have photos of them all sitting on the sand, in full dress with the ladies in huge feathered hats. A wonderful sight! ! ! !
poem by Ernestine Northover
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Scream
Scream
Scream at the world
For all your pain
For all your worries
For all that you lost
For all that you gained
Scream
Scream at the world
Wipe your tears away
Listen to it echo
Feel the stress
Melt away
Scream
Scream at the world
For loves found
And loves lost
For every feeling
That gets jumbled up
Scream
Scream at the world
For your horrible day
For the things that they say
For everything that
Drags you down
Scream
Scream at the world
Then let it fade away
Tomorrow's a new day
Today is a memory
No one knows what' ll happen
Scream
Scream at the world
Then look ahead
Never back
Life moves
One day at a time
poem by Autumn Winds
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Quiet Steam
Released as b-side of digging in the dirt single, 1992.
Stand back
Stand back
What are those dogs doing, sniffing at my feet
Theyre onto something, pickin up, pickin up
This heat
This heat
Give me steam
How you feel can make it real
Get a life with this dreamers dream
Oh, give me steam
Real as anything you see
Get a life in this dreamers dream
You know your culture from your trash
You know your plastic from your cash
When I lose sight of the track
You know the way back
But I know you
You know your stripper from your paint
You know your sinner from your saint
Whenever heavens doors are shut
You get them open, but
I know you
Give me steam
And how you feel can make it real
Get a life in this dreamers dream
Oh, give me steam
Real as anything you see
Get a life in this dreamers dream
You know your green from your red
You know the quick from the dead
So much better than the rest
You think youve been blessed
But I know you
You know your ladder from your snake
You know the throttle from the brake
You know your straight line from the curve
Youve got a lot of nerve
But I know you
Give me steam
And how you feel can make it real
Get a life in this dreamers dream
Oh, give me steam
Real as any place youve been
Get a life with this dreamers dream
Oh yeah, I need steam
Feel your steam around me
Turning up the heat
I start to dream aloud
You move my hands and feet
Wont you step into this cloud
Of steam
This steam
Give me steam
How you feel can make it real
Real as anything youve seen
Get a life with this dreamers dream
Give me steam
How you feel can make it so real
Get a life in this dreamers dream
Help me yeah
Comin alive
In your steam
Comin alive
In your steam
Comin alive
song performed by by Peter Gabriel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Love Poem Without Commas
Like twin ghazal of origin co-eval
each a brandish bound and confessional
falling satellite-like through the seven rings
of very little I quit balking to recall
futility of anything's everything:
the this-new-old-world-agricultural
all-clinging mache of meaning
dependable and workable
until until until
crossing the rainbow-constellation of you
then with a secret smile
space lit all its candles occultly colorful
as old crystal prompting an indefinite while.
Now I'm a cat up the tree of your good will
firemen circle the base-breath-taking some;
soon they'll try to fetch me. What a pill!
Over there's a truck red as the sun
I watch all through my diamond slits-
axes axe. Ladders climb-ascend
reaching clear to a heartthrob big as the Ritz
that pennants flapping, even I cannot defend.
Heart you're a billibong
ringed by a fetid strand
wider than long
on whose reeking rand
chuck themselves up more-or-less prehistoric fish
that gasp themselves out-melt into the sand,
fuming a stinking nimbus
that rising wick-like covers all the land.
poem by Morgan Michaels
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Scream
[verse 1]
Does anybody know how I feel?
Sometime's I'm numb, sometime's I'm overcome
Does anybody care what's going on?
Do I have to wear my scars like a badge on my arm?
(pre-chorus)
For you to see me
I need release
[chorus]
Do I have to scream for you to hear me?
Do I have to bleed for you to see me?
'Cause I grieve, you're not listening to me
Do I need to scream?
[verse 2]
Has anybody seen what's been done?
Where was my defense? No one heard my protest
The eyes of God were watching me
It's time to make my peace, let it go and be released
(
pre-chorus)
So I can breathe again
I'm on my knees
[chorus] 2x
Do I have to scream for you to hear me?
Do I have to bleed for you to see me?
'Cause I grieve, you're not listening to me
[bridge]
I've been marked, set apart
But I'm cut so deep and afraid of the dark
One drop of blood from the hole in Your hand
Is enough to heal me and make me stand
(pre-chorus)
'Cause I'm clean, He is listening to me
[chorus]
I don't have to scream for Him to hear me
Don't have to bleed for Him to see me
'Cause I'm clean, He is listening to me
I don't have to scream
I don't have to bleed
'Cause I'm clean, He is listening
And I don't have to scream
song performed by by ZoeGirl
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Preface to Hunting of the Snark
PREFACE
If---and the thing is wildly possible---the charge of writing
nonsense were ever brought against the author of this brief but
instructive poem, it would be based, I feel convinced, on the line
``Then the bowsprit got mixed with the rudder sometimes''
In view of this painful possibility, I will not (as I might) appeal
indignantly to my other writings as a proof that I am incapable of
such a deed: I will not (as I might) point to the strong moral
purpose of this poem itself, to the arithmetical principles so
cautiously inculcated in it, or to its noble teachings in Natural
History---I will take the more prosaic course of simply explaining
how it happened.
The Bellman, who was almost morbidly sensitive about appearances,
used to have the bowsprit unshipped once or twice a week to be
revarnished, and it more than once happened, when the time came for
replacing it, that no one on board could remember which end of the
ship it belonged to. They knew it was not of the slightest use to
appeal to the Bellman about it---he would only refer to his Naval
Code, and read out in pathetic tones Admiralty Instructions which
none of them had ever been able to understand---so it generally ended
in its being fastened on, anyhow, across the rudder. The helmsman
used to stand by with tears in his eyes: he knew it was all wrong,
but alas! Rule 42 of the Code, ``No one shall speak to the Man at the
Helm'', had been completed by the Bellman himself with the words
``and the Man at the Helm shall speak to no one''. So remonstrance
was impossible, and no steering could be done till the next
varnishing day. During these bewildering intervals the ship usually
sailed backwards.
This office was usually undertaken by the Boots, who found in it
a refuge from the Baker's constant complaints about the insufficient
blacking of his three pairs of boots.
As this poem is to some extent connected with the lay of the
Jabberwock, let me take this opportunity of answering a question that
has often been asked me, how to pronounce ``slithy toves''. The
``i'' in ``slithy'' is long, as in ``writhe''; and ``toves'' is
pronounced so as to rhyme with ``groves''. Again, the first ``o'' in
``borogoves'' is pronounced like the ``o'' in ``borrow''. I have
heard people try to give it the sound of the ``o'' in ``worry''.
Such is Human Perversity.
This also seems a fitting occasion to notice the other hard words in
that poem. Humpty-Dumpty's theory, of two meanings packed into one
word like a portmanteau, seems to me the right explanation for all.
For instance, take the two words ``fuming'' and ``furious''. Make up
your mind that you will say both words, but leave it unsettled which
you will say first. Now open your mouth and speak. If your thoughts
incline ever so little towards ``fuming'', you will say
``fuming-furious''; if they turn, by even a hair's breadth, towards
``furious'', you will say ``furious-fuming''; but if you have that
rarest of gifts, a perfectly balanced mind, you will say
``frumious''.
Supposing that, when Pistol uttered the well-known words---
``Under which king, Bezonian? Speak or die!''
Justice Shallow had felt certain that it was either William or
Richard, but had not been able to settle which, so that he could not
possibly say either name before the other, can it be doubted that,
rather than die, he would have gasped out ``Rilchiam!''.
'Lewis Carroll'
poem by Lewis Carroll
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Steam Dreams
In this day of electric and diesel, very rarely is seen,
A shining locomotive, which is powered by steam.
Back in the days, when my parents were born,
The sight of a steam train was quite the norm.
Whenever a steam train catches my eye,
I stand, watching in awe, as it passes by.
‘Oh wow! Look! ’ I say, as I point a finger,
And the memory of it in my mind will linger.
Steam trains will never completely die out,
As, thankfully, there’s still quite a few about.
About a steam train, there’s something really quite dramatic.
And at the chance of riding on one, people are often ecstatic.
I remember seeing The Flying Scotsman at Salisbury station,
And I stood there marvelling at it with such great admiration.
The engine and all of its carriages just looked so smart.
The sight of such a train, never fails to quicken the heart.
Steam trains are so very elegant in their style.
To spot one, enthusiasts will travel many a mile.
It strange to think that years ago, they were all the rage,
When, they are such a very rare sight, in this day and age.
The sight of the world famous Orient Express,
Is one which will never ever fail to impress.
Through the windows, you can see the plush seats,
Where excited passengers will sit down and eat.
On board, the historic carriages of brown and cream,
They serve expensive champagne and gourmet cuisine.
Sat in a world of pure indulgence, passengers glide,
Through the green and pleasant British countryside.
The carriages have all been restored to their former glory;
If they could talk, I’m sure they could all share quite a story.
The carriages have been described as ‘palaces on wheels’,
And I would really love to know just how that feels.
Still being a very rare sight in these modern times,
I fancy taking a trip on a steam train, to sit and dine.
I guess you would have to pay quite a princely sum,
But I think it would be worth it, just to travel on one.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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Send A Message
In a line of fire I stand and wait for you, I cant hold out for too long
Searchin every part of me for a sign, Im in the middle of a storm
I keep hopin, keep on dreamin, somehow youll get through to me
So I reach across the silence, in the air, I keep hopin for a sound
Just a word or two is all I need, how can I bring you back around
Can you hear me, can I touch you, show me the way to your heart
Chorus:
Send a message - send me a message tonight
Send a message - in my dreams you are never out of sight
Send a message - let me stand in your light, just send me a message
In my dark and lonely night I look for you, wont you save me from myself
When my senses melt away you will be here and I wont need nobody else
I cant hold back, I wont fight it, roll back this stone from my heart
Send a message - send me a message tonight
Send a message - in my dreams you are never out of sight
Send a message - let me stand in your light, just send me a message
Everything you are (everything you are)
Means everything to me (means everything to me)
I will wait for you (I will wait)
Time is all we need (is all)
(guitar solo)
I keep hopin, keep on dreamin, somehow youll get through to me
Send a message - send me a message tonight
Send a message - in my dreams you are never out of sight
Send a message - let me stand in your light, just send me a message
(send a, send a, send a, send a, send a, send a) Im ready, I am ready
Send a, send a
Send me a, me a
Send a, send a...
song performed by by Starship
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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With The Trees And Vines
with the trees
surrounding the death
of a grasshopper
and the sorrow
lessen
with the grass and
vines and the breeze
grief shortens
its stay
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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