En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Love Hate Relationship

i see you, seated on the staircase, the old one
left by your parents long dead, and

you are crying there, some tears falling on the
carpeted floors, so your sorrow is invisible

to his eyes, when he comes home, you put on a smile,
like a light that you switch on when it is dark,

it has always been that everyday with you,
and him, and he tells you every instruction to keep that love

burning, you listen, but as soon as he goes
to another place, far, and you sit again on that old staircase

counting the rails and the chairs of the house
you begin to think honestly, that this affair is nothing but a

fraud. It is only him. But to him that should not be, as you he goes
away for days, and you keep on staying put

with all his instructions. You worry about the electricity of the house.
and the gas that keeps the oven hot for the bread
and the muffins

but for how long. The tank of gas will be empty soon.
and what he will find in this house, when you decide to end it all

is just the muffin that the ants of the house
are still eating. There is always a season to end what was started.

soon. It will be. You sit on the stair, looking out the door.
You will know how to make the dust. Soon, It will be.

He will never know.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Stranger In My Own House

(a capella: she said: boy, your luck is running out...she make me feel like a stranger...in my own house)
I come stumbling in at a quarter to three
To the sound of my own dog growlin at me
Im scared to move or turn on a light
Youve got me creepin around in the dark
Like a thief in the night
Ive got no excuse, I should have known
Ive got no place to live
I never feel at home
I walk into the kitchen to see whats there
Im tired and Im hungry but the cupboards bare
Ive been working all day and all night too
I cant believe this is all I have to come back to
I guess Ill take a look upstairs, in the danger zone
I wonder what Im doing here
When I never feel at home
Im a stranger in my own house
Ive got the keys to the door
But Im still locked out
Im a stranger in my own house
Ill huff and Ill puff and Ill blow this house down
Cant be a stranger in my own house
I see the do not disturb sign on my bedroom door
What is this sheet and pillow laying on the floor
I wore out my welcome
I hear you loud and clear
Its time to get a few things straight around here
Ive got no excuse, I should have known
Ive got a place to live but I never feel at home
Im just a stranger in my own house
Ive got the keys to the door
But Im still locked out
Stranger in my own house
Ill huff and Ill puff and Ill blow this house down
Cant be a stranger in my own house
Ive got no excuse, I should have known
With a woman like you Im better off alone
Im a stranger in my own house
Ive got the keys to the door
But Im still locked out
Im just a stranger in my own house
Oh, honey Im home
Im just a stranger in my own house
Im just a stranger in my own house
You got a lion on your hands girl, not a mouse!
Im just a stranger in my own house
Im just a stranger in my own house
Well, somebodys got to go...
Stranger
Stranger

song performed by by Foreigner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Houses

1898 -- A Song of the Dominions

'Twixt my house and thy house the pathway is broad,
In thy house or my house is half the world's hoard;
By my house and thy house hangs all the world's fate,
On thy house and my house lies half the world's hate.

For my house and thy house no help shall we find
Save thy house and my house -- kin cleaving to kind;
If my house be taken, thine tumbleth anon.
If thy house be forfeit, mine followeth soon.

'Twixt my house and thy house what talk can there be
Of headship or lordship, or service or fee?
Since my house to thy house no greater can send
Than thy house to my house -- friend comforting friend;
And thy house to my house no meaner can bring
Than my house to thy house -- King counselling King.

poem by Rudyard Kipling
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Monument Of All Our Wrongs

i build a house
no one likes it.

the house is empty
i put some chairs.

someone comes and
says, this house is

lonely, it needs
a sound

it is boring and needs
a paint

i put a tree beside
its stairs

i grow another
fence

i put a lone bulb
on a post

and leave the house
for good

that is what the
house is made

there is always
missing

something is
always wrong

this is the house
of regret

it is the monument
of all our wrongs.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Leaving an old ancestral house...

i always remember someone leaving the house with a heavy heart. I sympathize. My heart is also heavy.
It is dark and someone carries a bag and begins to step away.
The steps become fainter.
I like to help. I suggest he stays. But Papa is vehement
and decisive.
Many years ago, five or ten people already left this house.
I stayed. I keep on staying.
The house is empty now.
I have decided not to listen anymore about the sound of emptiness.
The house of Gregorio must fall.
Everyone here dies.

I want to live. And so i must go somewhere else.
Where there are no hands that will choke me.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Red Light Lady

(copyright nazareth,tiflis tunes,inc.-ascap)
Down at the house with the red light
She works from seven til dawn
Youll find her there any time that you like
Some days a week shell be on
Down at the house with the red light
I was a boy not to sure of myself
When I was first taken down
Down to the house with the red light
Two miles west of town
I paid my fee and I went on in
Into the house with the red light
Pull up a chair, up the stairs
The key was cold and dampened my hand
Opened the door, heard her say;
Into my room and set yourself down
She let us lie on this shiny brass bed
Curtains and flowers in her hair
She played my soul and she shattered my head
Could not believe I was there
Down at the house with the red light
I fell in love with that lady
First love I knew, she gave me
Seven days a week, you can find her
Down at the house with the red light
I fell in love with that lady

song performed by by Nazareth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cybil

I sit here, sad and lonely,
speaking to the sea.
As it's kindly listening to me,
in this little house that's empty.

Am I lost to be here?
To be in a little house before the sea.
As quiet as it might be,
beautified by tranquility.

Swallow flies above me,
Sunset is in front of me,
But you're not here beside of me,
this little house remains still incomplete.

In this little house,
I wish you come home,
I've been tired and lonesome.
I've stared at the sea for so long and long.

I sit here again, quiet and lonely.
I've been thinking thoughtfully.
From this little house, I see and see,
far off the sea, there's you,
and me..

poem by Kite Remedy
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House Of Jazz

Humdinger
Bell ringer
Got a nasty stinger
To slow you down
Mud slinger
Gold digger
Who point the finger
And do you down
Kickin' and a fightin' on a TV show
Lightin' blindin' in the middle of the road
Are you comin' in
Are you comin' in

I said come into the house of
Come into the house of
Come into the house of jazz
Come into the house of
Come into the house of
Come into the house of jazz

Ball stripper
Big tipper
Got a slap 'n' tickler
To make you growl
Spitin' and bitin' on a TV show
Tightenin' frightenin' givin' out a load
Are you comin' in
Are you comin' in

I said come into the house of
Come into the house of
Come into the house of jazz
Come into the house of
Come into the house of
Come into the house of jazz

Are you comin' in
Come on in

Are you comin' in
Are you comin' in
I said come into the house of
Come into the house of
Come into the house of jazz
Come into the house of
Come into the house of
Come into the house of jazz
Are you comin' in
Are you comin' in
I said into the house of jazz
Come into the house of
Come into the house of
Come into the house of jazz
The house of jazz

song performed by by AC/DC from Stiff Upper Lip
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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This House Is Empty Now

(costello/bacharach)
These rooms play tricks upon you
Remember when they were always filled with laughter
But now theyre quite deserted
They seem to just echo voices raised in anger
Maybe you will see my face
Reflected there on the pane
In the window up above for long
In broken home
Yet this house is empty now
Theres nothing I can do
To make you want to stay
So tell me how am I supposed to live without you
These walls were lined with pictures
Remember the glass we charged in celebration
But now I fill my life up
With all that I can to deaden this sensation
Do you recognize the face
Fixed in that fine silver frame
Were you really so unhappy there
You never said
So this house is empty now
Theres nothing I can do to make you want to stay
So tell me how am I supposed to live without you
Oh, if I could just become forgetful
When night seems endless
Does the extinguished candle care
About the darkness
Its funny how the memory
Will bring you so close then make you disappear
Meanwhile all our friends must choose
Who they will favour, who they will lose
Hang the garland high, or close the door
Or throw away the key
This house is empty now
Theres no one living here
You have to care about
This house is empty now
Theres nothing I can do
To make you want to stay
So tell me how am I supposed to live without you
This house is empty now
This house is empty now
Theres nothing I can do
This house is empty now
This house is empty now

song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Crying

(coverdale/vandenberg)
I smell trouble
And where theres smoke
There must be fire...
You sow your seeds of jealousy
And the flames
Just keep on growing higher...
This cant be love anymore,
I know, cause Ive done
Everything I can...
And all that you can do
I pour gasoline
On a burning man...
Tears of rage, tears of pain,
Burning my eyes,
I realise, Im crying...
Crying... Im crying
Bitter tears falling like rain...
Lies...
I can never understand,
You play your cards under the table,
Dealing me a losing hand...
Tears of rage, tears of pain,
Burning my eyes,
I realise, Im crying
Crying... Im crying
Bitter tears falling like rain...
Crying, always crying, crying
Bitter tears falling like rain...
I want to be there
When your demons come to call...
Im gonna finish what you started, baby,
Watch you burn little house down,
Burn it down, down, down...
Then Ill see you crying,
Crying... crying...
Bitter tears falling like rain...

song performed by by Whitesnake
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shifting the House

He lived in my heart for a long time
When life was in its metre and rhyme.

When the house became shabby
He was reminded of his old hobby.

He searched out a house newly raised
Day and night its beauty he praised.

Then one day he took all his luggage
And left the house bag and baggage.

He was welcomed with open arms
He got lost in its fascinating charms.

He enjoyed a long passage of time
As long as life was in its rhyme.

Insted of house now he became old
Over the change he had no hold.

Now the house wanted to shift him
Because the light of his eyes was dim.

Wrinkles are not to be cherished
Now he was only to perish.

According to the misery's demand
He was proper for dust or sand.

He wa kinly sent to a house of clay
It was the dropp scene of life's play.

As it was a house most shabby
To change house was his hobby.

He was waiting for a good shift
That may prove a good gift.

poem by Prof Niamat Ali Murtazai
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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House Of Jazz

(young - young)
Humdinger
Bell ringer
Got a nasty stinger
To slow you down
Mud slinger
Gold digger
Who point the finger
And do you down
Kickin and a fightin on a tv show
Lightin blindin in the middle of the road
Are you comin in
Are you comin in
I said come into the house of
Come into the house of
Come into the house of jazz
Come into the house of
Come into the house of
Come into the house of jazz, yes
Ball stripper
Big tipper
Got a slap n tickler
To make you growl
A spitin and bitin on a tv show
Tightenin frightenin givin out a load
Are you comin in
Are you comin in
I said come into the house of
Come into the house of
Come into the house of jazz
Come into the house of
Come into the house of
Come into the house of jazz
Are you comin in
Come on in
Are you comin in
Are you comin in
I said come into the house of
Come into the house of
Come into the house of jazz
Come into the house of
Come into the house of
Come into the house of jazz
Are you comin in
Are you comin in
I said into the house of jazz
Come into the house of
Come into the house of
Come into the house of jazz
The house of jazz
2000, j. albert & son, pty.

song performed by by AC-DC
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Stranger In The House

We dont talk much
We dont make love like we used to
And I stay guarded
Ive got walls and triggers
I never thought I had
And so do you
But this is love
And thats the way we seem content to play it
I touch your clothes when youre gone
I let your scent wash over me
You cry at night and you wish just like a child
That we were how we used to be
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
And she looks like somebody from a lifetime ago
I stonewall you, you stonewall me
But we both know that
Hiding deep inside us
Lives the love that we try hard to lose
And never will
But this is war
And thats the way we seem content to fight it
I get so angry and confused cause
I want out but I want you
You cant decide between moving out or moving in
You dont know what to do
With a stranger in the house
In the house
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
And she looks like you
And he looks like me
Is this the same girl that, I fought so hard to win
And now I fight to lose her
Now I feel that its just like skin to skin
And nerve to nerve
Strung out like wire
Is that the way we are content to live
We face off in anger
In rooms once filled with love
Looking for a chink in the armour
Where we can stab the blade
What are we thinking of
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
And she looks like somebody from a lifetime ago
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house

song performed by by Rick Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Inside the House of Bread

Everyone has a table inside the house of bread
Pouring in into the chairs the fish have come to roost
Its already started to happen inside the house of bread
Feasting and Forever enough to go around the table.

And I keep to myself in the age of all this water
We can share an ocean but don’t drink from my open well
I wont mind sharing in the house of bread
Everyone at the table deserves to be fed

poem by James Daniel Gabriel
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Piece Of Myself... And For Myself

people in my place worry about me
why i do not worry about next year
the next planting season after this year's bumpy harvest where every room in the house is filled with corn.

people in my place ask me where shall i live after next year
and you should soon inherit the house that i built for 50 years.

they all worry about me with all those particular items like what shall happen
to the glasses in my cabinet
or the white car in my blue garage
or my gold watch and my silver spoons and my china plates

they worry about my gold fish in my aquarium
who shall feed them when i am no longer home

people worry a lot about me
and i begin sometimes when i get tired listening to all the questions
asking: why me? why do you worry all about me?

i am not even dead yet and have no plans retiring from life's works
like the arts and this
pottery and this poetry

people worry about me
and never about us.

i am tired and all i need is sleep.
and i do not worry at all.

because i know that if i am dead
then i am dead
and i do not ask for more

not even on extended dreams
not even on anything

perhaps they worry about me because they all worry about themselves
perhaps i am their mirror
or perhaps they think that with my behavior
i should not have lived
in the first place.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When the Parents Refuse to Come Home

When the parents refuse to come home
The children sleep beneath the babysitter’s skirt.
She will eat you out of house and home.
When the parents refuse to come home
The children shall set the house on fire,
And the babysitter shall save the family pet
That is content to be hand fed at the breast.
This night the parents are outside the loop,
They are out for a night on the town to renew their bound without the incessant want of children who shall burn the house down for attention.
The babysitter is watching TV under the blaze of the burning house where the family pet snicks beneath the smoke colleted by the ceiling.
When the parents stay out all night the children are discontented with the babysitter who have no time for children, she rather babysat the TV.
The babysitter refuse to pay taxes on her earning, she have parked the children in their beds where they learn the art of conversation from the TV.
The parents are having fun while the children are safe in the dream shatter of the right brain telling midnight stories of the day’s doings and the babysitter has invited her boy friend over for the night and he will eat you out of house and home while in their dream the children are buring the house down.
When the parents dance the night away in the night club the children are dreaming of the violent of the babysitter who eat the last of the pot roast left over from dinner.
When the parents refuse to come home the babysitter is contemplating the meaning of death and dying in the burning house.
The babysitter will grow up to become a parent and she will hire a babysitter when she go out to dance the night away as her children burn the house down.

poem by David E. Patton
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The House

For many years, the house
stood empty and forlorn.
The windows had been boarded
preventing the sunlight coming in.
No welcoming mat lay by the door;
laughter was a thing of the past
as spiders spun their webs
within the gloomy silence.

The house stood empty
abandoned by most living things
and there were those who said
spooky goings on went on
after night fell in there.
No one could prove it
because no one would stay there.
Only the fool hardy
would ever enter after dark.

The paintwork pealed
and the front door creaked
if someone dared to open it.
They say the house is haunted,
but no one knew
by what or who.
The house began to crumble
as each season came to pass.

The glory of its birth
lay somewhere in the past
and now the crumbling walls
would never reveal
any of the secrets that it knew.
Then a fire started
by a hand unseen
and the house finally died
within its own funeral pyre

15 March 2011

poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In this house of pain

In this house of pain
We’re nothing but slaves
Giving into such desires
Will it bring us any pleasure?
Weeping for a lover lost
She’ll cast her own spell
Deprived by all
Depleting the life of everyone that has betrayed her
Hidden in the shadows is where she will feel alive

In this house
Is nothing but sinners?
In this house
Is nothing but broken promises?
In this house
Is where you left me for dead?

Walking through the fogged trees
Blind to all
The songs of old
Are here for the comfort of all.
Beneath the garden of secrets
Hides a lonely heart
Calling to her lover
From which she had to part.

I am alone again.
Alone with my thoughts
That I am left to ponder upon
I am alone again.

This sadness is overwhelming
And all I can do is give in
Does my heart still beat the same?
Or does it die along with you
These thoughts seem to keep me sane
Yet I’m still waiting for more
These memories seem to play a game
And in the end
I’m here to give in

In this house
Is nothing but heartache?
In this house
Is nothing but tears?
In this house
Is where you left me broken?

The feelings seem to fade
The laughter was lost long ago
But I would give everything up
Just to have it all back

In this house
Was when I first fell in love with you?
In this house is were I gave my heart to you
In this house was where i was lost to you.

This will be our doing
This will be our destruction
Swept up in such blissful dreams
Scarcely unaware
This is the house
Were we will rot forever?

poem by Teigan Klippel
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Make This House A Home

Well theres something in us living
Theres something you should know
There was a time for us to fall
Now its time to grow
But you know its not the way
That I intended it to be
Crossing hearts and killing souls
And trying to get down to whats real
All I ever wanted was to make this house a home
I let go of sinking sand wont you help me find a stone
All I ever wanted
All I ever wanted
All I ever wanted
All I ever wanted
All I ever wanted
Was to make this house a home
All I needed was your hand to hold
I spent so much time alone
I needed your direction
But we re-aligned my broken bones
Well theyre running from a lifeless state
Somehow we lost our hold
All we have with us is change
Left over from what started out as gold
All I ever wanted was to make this house a home
I let go of sinking sand - wont you help me find a stone
All I ever wanted
All I ever wanted
All I ever wanted
All I ever wanted
All I ever wanted
Was to make this house a home
This is what I give to you
Its flesh and blood
Its body and soul
Wont you take whats left of who I am
And try to see it whole
Im holding you responsible for every word I say
If you feel the brokenness
Wont you try and look the other way
I never meant to be so low
I only wanted you to see
That time was healing someone else
But its tearing apart the very heart of me
This is what I give to you
Its flesh and blood
Its body and soul
Wont you take whats left of who I am
And try to see it whole
All I ever wanted was to make this house a home
I let go of sinking sand - wont you help me find a stone
All I ever wanted
All I ever wanted
All I ever wanted
All I ever wanted
All I ever wanted
Was to make this house a home
So make this house a home
Make this house a home
Make this house a home

song performed by by Indigo Girls
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The House with Nobody in It

Whenever I walk to Suffern along the Erie track
I go by a poor old farmhouse with its shingles broken and black.
I suppose I've passed it a hundred times, but I always stop for a minute
And look at the house, the tragic house, the house with nobody in it.

I never have seen a haunted house, but I hear there are such things;
That they hold the talk of spirits, their mirth and sorrowings.
I know this house isn't haunted, and I wish it were, I do;
For it wouldn't be so lonely if it had a ghost or two.

This house on the road to Suffern needs a dozen panes of glass,
And somebody ought to weed the walk and take a scythe to the grass.
It needs new paint and shingles, and the vines should be trimmed and tied;
But what it needs the most of all is some people living inside.

If I had a lot of money and all my debts were paid
I'd put a gang of men to work with brush and saw and spade.
I'd buy that place and fix it up the way it used to be
And I'd find some people who wanted a home and give it to them free.

Now, a new house standing empty, with staring window and door,
Looks idle, perhaps, and foolish, like a hat on its block in the store.
But there's nothing mournful about it; it cannot be sad and lone
For the lack of something within it that it has never known.

But a house that has done what a house should do,
a house that has sheltered life,
That has put its loving wooden arms around a man and his wife,
A house that has echoed a baby's laugh and held up his stumbling feet,
Is the saddest sight, when it's left alone, that ever your eyes could meet.

So whenever I go to Suffern along the Erie track
I never go by the empty house without stopping and looking back,
Yet it hurts me to look at the crumbling roof and the shutters fallen apart,
For I can't help thinking the poor old house is a house with a broken heart.

poem by Joyce Kilmer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A House Is Not A Home

A house is not a home
and now neither is ours
the day you left there world
left our faces with a throne
and though you were ready
we still wish it didn't have to be
cause a house is not a home
when its filled with sadness and misery

Bickering and arguments
left this family in pieces
as rules and laws are bent
and friends go away like diseases
a house is not a home
if a smile no longer comes
and time no longer stops
a house is not a home
if a heart beat feels like a stomp

poem by Robert Roberts
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