En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Realization Of What Seems To Be Detestable

when we meet
i see hallways and
a gate and a hollow alley
and i have not
hesitated to
bribe the guards
and so i had all the ease
getting in
where i am not supposed
to be
because i ought
not to belong there
damp rooms
and dusty curtains
and rusty pipes

faucets leaking
and rats
running on the ceiling
and cockroaches
stepping on
cheese and
bread

flies on cold coffee
and fleas
on the off-white linens

i give in
because you are there
waiting for me
and in this kind
of compromising
situations

i have always been
weak.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Death Alley Driver

Rough and ready rider
In a supersonic sound machine
Rock and roll survivor
Chrome pipes between your knees
Running all the red lites
Your gonna make a dead stop
But you just cant see the signs
Oh - youll never win the race
But you cant give up the chase
Death alley driver
Living at high speed
Death alley driver...yeah
Death alley driver...who knows what you need
Death alley driver...
One hundred twenty five smokin on the turns
Always on the hit and run
But you never learn...
Running from the man... and youre running
From yourself
Another dirty angel heading straight to hell
Oh - youll never win the race
But you wont give up the chase
Death alley driver...
Live in overdrive...death alley driver...yeah
Death alley driver...ride to stay alive
Death alley driver...
Lets go
Red lights in the mirror
Danger on the band
Got to take a detour cause a road blocks up ahead
He takes you on the corner with a wave of his hand
Death is in the back seat of a big old black sedan
Oh - youll never win the race...
As you turn and see his face...
Death alley driver...
Movin for the kill
Death alley driver...yeah
Death alley driver...
Time is standing still...
Death alley driver...
Always on the run cause youre a...
Death alley driver
Love the way it feels
Death alley driver...yeah
Death alley driver
Hell on wheels...
Death alley driver... ooh -

song performed by by Rainbow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Coffee!

Coffee beans all ground up,
Coffee in my favourite cup,
Coffee black, coffee white,
Coffee dark, coffee light,
Coffee right, to start the day,
Coffee at work, coffee at play,
Coffee midday, coffee at night,
Coffee to sober, coffee to excite,
Coffee weak, coffee strong,
But maybe instead some Lapsang Souchong! ! ! !
TEA! ! ! ! !

poem by Ernestine Northover
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Homeless

nowhere to go...
from bridge to alley,
maybe a tent.

barrel fire, robbing the trash,
a little something to eat
that nobody else wanted...

panhandle a cup of coffee,
maybe bum a smoke...
hope to hell it dont snow today.

the shelter's full,
the soup kitchen aint open yet....
nowhere to go.

houses with curtains & plates
give way to vacant buildings....
children's voices echo the sound
of rats scurrying in the dark...

no woman, no God...
only an old half-blind
stray dog
following, following....

nowhere to go...

poem by Eric Cockrell
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Waiting For The Sunrise

Waiting for the sunrise,
Waiting for the sunrise,
Waiting for the sunrise,
Waiting for the sunrise,
So I can take your hand and stroll about.
Waiting for the sunrise,
Waiting for the sunrise,
Waiting for the sunrise,
Waiting for the sunrise,
So we can go on the streets and see the people smile.
Give me your hand,
So I could tell you that things will be alright.
The rooms still dark,
But it wont be so long,
And I can take you outside.
Waiting for the sunrise,
Waiting for the sunrise,
Waiting for the sunrise,
Waiting for the sunrise,
So we can go to the park and roll about.
Waiting for the sunrise,
Waiting for the sunrise,
Waiting for the sunrise,
Waiting for the sunrise,
So we can go to the docks and watch the boats go by.
Come on, love, give me your hand,
And things will be alright.
The rooms still cold,
But it wont be so long,
That we can go outside.
Waiting for the sunrise,
Waiting for the sunrise,
Waiting for the sunrise,
Waiting for the sunrise,
So I could see your hair shining in the air.
Waiting for the sunrise,
Waiting for the sunrise,
Waiting for the sunrise,
Waiting for the sunrise,
So I can see the sky reflected in your eyes.
Come on, love, dont be depressed,
Things will be alright.
The rooms too low,
But it wont be so long,
That we can be outside.
Waiting for the sunrise,
Waiting for the sunrise,
Waiting for the sunrise,
Waiting for the sunrise,
Waiting for the sunrise,
Waiting for the sunrise,
Waiting for the sunrise,
Waiting for the sunrise,
Waiting for the sunrise,
Waiting for the sunrise,
Waiting for the sunrise,
Waiting for the sunrise,
Waiting for the sunrise.

song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The better a work is, the more it attracts criticism; it is like the fleas who rush to jump on white linens.

quote by Gustave Flaubert
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Gasoline Alley

(rod stewart, ron wood)
I think I know now whats making me sad
Its a yearnin for my own back yard
I realize maybe I was wrong to leave
Better swallow up my silly country pride
Going home, running home
Down to gasoline alley where I started from
Going home, and Im running home
Down to gasoline alley where I was born
When the weathers better and the rails unfreeze
And the wind dont whistle round my knees
Ill put on my weddin suit and catch the evening train
Ill be home before the milks upon the door
Going home, running home
Down to gasoline alley where I started from
Going home, and Im running home
Down to gasoline alley where I was born
But if anything should happen and my plans go wrong
Should I stray to the house on the hill
Let it be known that my intentions were good
Id be singing in my alley if I could
And if Im called away and its my turn to go
Should the blood run cold in my veins
Just one favor Ill be asking of you
Dont bury me here, its too cold
Take me back, carry me back
Down to gasoline alley where I started from
Take me back, wont you carry me home
Down to gasoline alley where I started from
Take me back, carry me back
Down to gasoline alley where I started from
Take me back, carry me back
Down to gasoline alley where I started from
Take me back, carry me back
Down to gasoline alley where I started from

song performed by by Rod Stewart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Just Another Day

Monday's eyes have got stuck on the ceiling again
Then motivation just hung up the phone on a friend
A bottle of wine and this sorry excuse for a song
Nothing excites me and I don't know where I belong
But I still...
Look in the mirror
And I still...
Get out of bed
It's just another day
It's just another day
Just like the other day
Sunday's lies have just written themselves on the wall
I should be crying but nothing can reach me at all
And I still...
See your smiling face
It's just another day
It's just another day
Just like the other day
It's just another day
It's just another day
Just like the other day
So now your heels are dragging
It's been a long time running away with your head in the clouds
What are you waiting for (x3)
And I still...
Remember what you said
It's just another day (x3)
Just like the other day (I don't know where I belong)
It's just another day (Stuck on the ceiling again)
It's just another day (Hung up the phone on a friend)
It's just another day
Just like the other day (x3

song performed by by Natalie Imbruglia
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Night Runners Competition Counted

we enjoy counting the rats
running around at night,
when we are arriving home
on our faithful motorbike,

usually two or three rats to see,
Kayla and I have a competition
counting first spied rats we see,
who can spot local drain rats first

the biggest rats seen truthfully
are as big as healthy pet cats,
we go look at pets frequently
in BSD once a week we peep,

in at a pet shop when we watch,
a movie in expedition BSD every week
a family movie is a special treat,
our two happy daughters think it so neat

our neigbour concreted over their open drain
next door rats love their drains seldom stray,
so less rats outside rats too close we do disdain
rats who venture close in life peril cannot stay,

if any bold rats venture into our house ceiling,
these rats are disposed of poisoned very quickly
our rule is no entry for any rats poison strictly,
tropical rat best learn trespass has no pity feeling.

poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To Be Happy Altogether

yesterday the used plates and stained cups and saucers and spilled coffee and bread with molds
disturbed me

i was thinking about the bugs and the rats and the
bacteria and the disease
and death,

the whole night i could not sleep
i am bothered about the negligence of other people
their lackadaisical attitude and how i should have remedied situation and
cure the diseases of our society

it is a matter of social responsibility and
environmental if not political maturity
saying there is a time for making a difference

this morning my eyes sink inside my sockets
like marbles inside a black hole
and i entertain the idea of the possibility that i may finally
go blind because i think too much about what to do and how to do
things to make this world a better place to live in
and yet i have really done nothing and the possibility that i may have bad karma in the last analysis
is not a remote
happening

i realized that i am not enjoying my life anymore
concerned as i am about the disease
the cockroaches the rats and the
emerging sharp edges of the
sickle that death is carrying in my fields of hay

i make a conclusion that this is not good for me
after all i am part of this mess
that cockroaches infest that rats crawl and dirty with their tiny feet and stinking tail and that all these bacteria despite what science has been doing
still thrive upon their new shapes and wise mutations
that virus love this earth and will always be here to stay
and kill so many

and so....

i tell myself: stop the worrying
learn to accept what is here and then be happy altogether.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Why Are You Gloating?

Why are you gloating?
You look as if you were a mouse,
Who was just awarded...
A lifetime supply of cheese.

'That's almost funny.
No.
But...
Say I 'was' that mouse.'

Okay...
Mouse.

'And that mouse was suspected of stealing cheese.
And those who made the cheese...
Did all they could to find the mouse guilty of the crime.'

Go ahead,
I'm listening.

'And...
The mouse,
Kept telling the makers of cheese...
They actually befriended rats!
And those rats were the culprits of the theft all along.'

I don't get it.
What has that got to do with you?

'You see...
The folks had their eyes focused on the mouse closely.
Under microscope.
Not realizing they socialized and entertained disguised rats.
Masquerading as wholesome folks with undeniable integrity.'

What became the outcome?

'Well...
Not only was the mouse awarded that lifetime of cheese you mentioned.
But efforts long dismissed achieved notoriety for that same mouse.'

Soooo,
'Why' are 'you' gloating?

'Forget it.
Just forget it.'

Hey,
Wait a minute.
Don't get angry with me.
You were the one to bring up the mice and rats in disguise,
Working inside a cheese factory.

Yeah...
That's right.
Walk away.
You need to lay that head down and get some rest.

No wonder I see him smiling all the time.
The dude is nuts!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rondeau

Fleas, stink, pigs, mold,
The gist of the Bohemian soul,
Bread and salted fish and cold.

Leeks, and cabbage three days old,
Smoked meat, as hard and black as coal;
Fleas, stink, pigs, mold.

Twenty eating from one bowl,
A bitter drink -it's beer, I'm told-
Bad sleep on a straw in some filthy hole,
Fleas, stink, pigs, mold,
The gist of the Bohemian soul,
Bread and salted fish and cold.

poem by Eustache Deschamps
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Imelda's Fall

the rooms of the old house in olot
closed, the sound of the sea so deafening
her blind masseur still comes here often
perhaps reminiscing always the past,

the indonesian goddess by the gate is headless
another god of the sea lost his left hand
the ex-president comes here using the people's submarine
as she dances the night away with her fourteen ladies

the Sto Nino inside a man-made cave lost his right eye
on another corner, stands St. Joseph with only one hand
the grandeur is lost
this place
there is nothing spectacular now
except the contempt
of power and abuse of people's trust
power is temporary

a bad memory lasts for a lifetime
she has fallen out of grace
everything in her room is locked
dusty,
only the rats and the cockroaches
now applaud her greatness

all her friends are gone
we do not know this place now
we are only reminded

and they always say
that the past need not be repeated
the sun sets finally
the orange hues are gone
and what comes next is the total darkness
of this place
once great
now in utter ruin

then we decided to move on
to the next place of our tourist destination

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Goodbye

Album: One-Armed Bandit
Track: 11
Here by I return your love
I just wonna give it back
I am fading
The silence can be beautiful but also very cold
But somewhere out there there's a place where I belong
Cause one thing I know
Somewhere out there there's a place where I belong
goodbye
But somewhere out there there's a place where I belong
goodbye
But somewhere out there there's a place where I belong
The choises can be hard to make
Is it luck or is it love
I am waiting
I'm waiting for the voice inside me to tell me what I'm not
But somewhere out there there's a place where I belong
Cause one thing I know
Somewhere out there there's a place where I belong
Goodbye
But somewhere out there there's a place where I belong
Goodbye
But somewhere out there there's a place where I belong
( x 2)

song performed by by Zornik
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There Are Black

There are black guards slamming cell gates
on black men,
And brown guards saying hello to brown men
with numbers on their backs,
And white guards laughing with white cons,
and red guards, few, say nothing
to red inmates as they walk by to chow and cells.

There you have it, the little antpile . . .
convicts marching in straight lines, guards flying
on badged wings, permits to sting, to glut themselves
at the cost of secluding themselves from their people . .
Turning off their minds like watertaps
wrapped in gunnysacks that insulate the pipes
carrying the pale weak water to their hearts.

It gets bad when you see these same guards
carrying buckets of blood out of cells,
see them puking at the smell, the people,
their own people slashing their wrists,
hanging themselves with belts from light outlets;
it gets bad to see them clean up the mess,
carry the blue cold body out under sheets,
and then retake their places in guard cages,
watching their people maul and mangle themselves,

And over this blood-rutted land,
the sun shines, the guards talk of horses and guns,
go to the store and buy new boots,
and the longer they work here the more powerful they become,
taking on the presence of some ancient mummy,
down in the dungeons of prison, a mummy
that will not listen, but has a strange power
in this dark world, to be so utterly disgusting in ignorance,
and yet so proudly command so many men. . . .

And the convicts themselves, at the mummy’s
feet, blood-splattered leather, at this one’s feet,
they become cobras sucking life out of their brothers,
they fight for rings and money and drugs,
in this pit of pain their teeth bare fangs,
to fight for what morsels they can. . . .

And the other convicts, guilty
of nothing but their born color, guilty of being innocent,
they slowly turn to dust in the nightly winds here,
flying in the wind back to their farms and cities.
From the gash in their hearts, sand flies up spraying
over houses and through trees,

look at the sand blow over this deserted place,
you are looking at them.

poem by Jimmy Santiago Baca
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Im Not Supposed To Care

I think you have somebody waiting outside in the rain to take you away
You got places to go, you got people to see still Im gonna miss you
But anyway
I wish you good spaces in the far away places you go
If it rains or it snows may you be safe and warm and never grow old
And if you need someone who loves you, you know I will always be there
Ill do it although Im not supposed to care
Ill give you the keys to my flying machine if youd like
I will show you the light and when you call Im gonna come to you
And when you find someone who loves you, Ill know you would treat me the same
Just lie there, youre not supposed to care
I think you have somebody waiting outside in the rain to take you away.
Thats some kind of a game still Im glad it came down to the final round
But anyway
If you think you need someone who needs you, you know I will always be there
Ill do it although Im not supposed to care
Ill do it although Im not supposed to care

song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Im Stepping Out

A one, a two, a one, two, three, four!
This here is the story about a househusband who, you know,
Just want to get out of the house, has been looking at you,
You, know, the kids, days and days, hes been watching the
Kitchen and screwing around or whatever it has to be till
Hes gone crazy!
Woke up this morning, blues around my head.
No need to ask the reason why.
Went to the kitchen and lit a cigarette,
Blew my worries to the sky.
Im stepping out,
Im stepping out,
Im stepping out,
Im stepping out, yeh!
If it dont feel right, you dont have to do it.
Just leave a message on the phone and tell them to screw it.
And after all is said and done,
You cant go pleasin evryone so screw it.
Uh-uh-uh,
Im stepping out,
Im stepping out,
Im stepping out, baby,
Im stepping out.
Babys sleeping, the cats have all been blessed,
Aint nothing doing on tv. (some old repeat!)
Put on my spacesuit, I got to look my best,
Im going out to do the city.
Im stepping out,
Im stepping out,
Im stepping out, babe,
Im stepping out.
Boogie!
One more!
Im stepping out, hold it down,
Im stepping out,
Im stepping out,
Gotta, gotta, gotta, gotta get out!
Im stepping out, babe, just for a while.
Aint been out for days! got to do it tonight!
Give me a break! give me a break! gotta get out!
Gotta get out!
Just for a while, just for the night.
Ill be in before one, or two, or three.
Goodbye.

song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Im Stepping Out

A one, a two, a one, two, three, four!
This here is the story about a househusband who, you know,
Just want to get out of the house, has been looking at you,
You, know, the kids, days and days, hes been watching the
Kitchen and screwing around or whatever it has to be till
Hes gone crazy!
Woke up this morning, blues around my head.
No need to ask the reason why.
Went to the kitchen and lit a cigarette,
Blew my worries to the sky.
Im stepping out,
Im stepping out,
Im stepping out,
Im stepping out, yeh!
If it dont feel right, you dont have to do it.
Just leave a message on the phone and tell them to screw it.
And after all is said and done,
You cant go pleasin evryone so screw it.
Uh-uh-uh,
Im stepping out,
Im stepping out,
Im stepping out, baby,
Im stepping out.
Babys sleeping, the cats have all been blessed,
Aint nothing doing on tv. (some old repeat!)
Put on my spacesuit, I got to look my best,
Im going out to do the city.
Im stepping out,
Im stepping out,
Im stepping out, babe,
Im stepping out.
Boogie!
One more!
Im stepping out, hold it down,
Im stepping out,
Im stepping out,
Gotta, gotta, gotta, gotta get out!
Im stepping out, babe, just for a while.
Aint been out for days! got to do it tonight!
Give me a break! give me a break! gotta get out!
Gotta get out!
Just for a while, just for the night.
Ill be in before one, or two, or three.
Goodbye.

song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Is It That Makes Us Stop To Love?

is it too much familiarity that the other
sounds like a blabber
and looks like a blubber
and smells like a tuber?

is it the hustle and bustle of the daily worries
that takes her away from a mystery
and you have nothing mystical
to maintain that fantasy?

so much reality
this everydayness that shuts you out
from the interest of life

it must be the desire turned off
the will surrendering
the heart dying because there is no more blood
rushing because the ecstasy had long left both of you

staring at the ceiling
and waking up as though there is nobody sleeping on your side
and closing windows and opening doors
stepping out
finding the air of freedom and smelling its new scent
feeling the wind
and wanting to play even if it is dark and cold and damp
on a moonless night
on the soft grass under the lushing trees
waiting for your dream
to come
where someone will be there

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pleading

I'm knocking at your gate again
Open up
Won't you let me in?
I'm standing
Waiting
Watching to see some recognition please.
Yes
It really is me.
Open up.
Won't you let me in?
I waited for you
Let the years pass by
I listened to hear
The
'It's all right.'
I'm knocking at your gate again
Bloody knuckles
Scraped skin.
Panic is gaining hold on me
Please
I whisper
Let me in.
I taste tears..
Who is crying and why?
My vision is blurred
There is stinging in my eyes.
I'm knocking at your gate again.
Waiting
For the gusty wind to carry me away
From this lonesome place.
I'm knocking at your gate again.
Why won't you answer?
Why won't you let me in?
I'm walking down the path again
Away from you,
Away from this thing..
Whatever binds us
Will eventually break.
The threads will give way
Perhaps then
I will have found my escape.
No shelter here
Nothing secure
you don't even bother to peak
Through the curtains anymore.
I'm leaving you,
battered and bruised,
To a new place
A better home
Somewhere safe.

poem by Rabia Minhas
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How Emptiness Is More Felt

noon time love
after,

sleep creeps
on the
stained white
linens

the hand falls
on the side
of the bed

without her
breasts anymore

thoughts begin
waking up

weaving more
questions on
the ceiling

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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