En.Citatepedia^®.ro

That Will Be The Last Reunion

i assure myself, i was lost,
in that reunion, their faces are no longer the same
their noses are elongated
and their words are
smelling like
dead fish their vision about us float like stinging jellyfish

the world has changed a lot, old friends are tied
to broken families
ex-girlfriends have become wild grasses in the forests
nothing and no one is as tamed as that old closeness
that knows
what sympathy was all about
the perfume of empathy
is lost in the air of indifference
nothing good spreads there

i listen a lot and i have heard what i must vomit
everything ends at ten o'clock in the evening
and then i flag a taxi
that takes me to a hotel which shows me the bareness of luxury
and style
i do not stop from there
i have to go somewhere else to appease what boils within
the rage of too much
expectations that fail

perhaps at eleven o'clock a bottle of rhum
while watching a comedy show of transvestites and clowns
something too far
and farce.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Clock Keeps Ticking

I want alone to be
I want to drown in lonely sea
But the clock keeps ticking

I want to stop
I want to forever halt
But the clock keeps beating

I want to run
I want far away from land
But the clock keeps pursuing

I want to hide
I no more want to think of fight
But the clock keeps shouting

I want to rest
I want in dream hibernate
But the clock keeps breaking

I want to sing
I want to strengthen the spring
But the clock keeps shaking

I want to only follow
I no longer want to know
But the clock keeps pumping

I want to hurt
I don’t care if I should hate
But the clock keeps moving

poem by Maria Sudibyo
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At Six O'clock

I heard the Ave Maria at six o'clock,
Today hear crimes on the radio at six o'clock.
I watched The Little Princess on tv at six o'clock,
Today watch explicit sex at six o’clock.
I was playing catch-up with my friends at six o'clock,
Today lonely children play atari at six o'clock.
I drank hot soup at six o’clock,
Today guys smoke crack at six o'clock.
I prayed to the guardian angel at six o'clock,
Today they kill people at six o'clock.
I studied algebra at six o'clock,
Today are planned crimes at six o'clock.
I was happy at six o'clock,
Today are all scared at six o'clock.

Parody in honor of Llorca

poem by Aschelminto Da Silva
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Cry, The Clock Said

Why cry now
It's over
Feelings change
How are you
Now am i
Cry, the clock said
I know little of romance
And these little tract houses
I know seven less of you
And if you should ever think of me
Maybe as a game you lost
Well someone i know lost the whole damn world
No more this talk of they're out to get me
Just slide out of sydney and i can never go back
How could i be surprised
How could i even believe
Cry, the clock said
I'll forget who you are
I'll forget one of these days
Cry, the clock said

song performed by by Gary Numan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cry Clock Said

Why cry now
Its over
Feelings change
How are you
Now am i
Cry, the clock said
I know little of romance
And these little tract houses
I know seven less of you
And if you should ever think of me
Maybe as a game you lost
Well someone I know lost the whole damn world
No more this talk of theyre out to get me
Just slide out of sydney and I can never go back
How could I be surprised
How could I even believe
Cry, the clock said
Ill forget who you are
Ill forget one of these days
Cry, the clock said

song performed by by Gary Numan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ride Easy

Many days Ive traveled but I know not where Im going to
Im lost, lost along the way
From mexico to paris, always the same solitary circle
In an empty caf
Their faces were so empty meaningless and negative to me
I could have died
The bodies and the strangers reflected in their glasses as they drank not seeing eye to eye
Ride easy my friends this journey ends before it begins
Ride easy my friends this story ends before it begins
Long dead winter when I thought that
Spring would never come again melting the snow
Many days Ive reveled evenings through to mornings
Through to evenings with nothing to show
Ride easy my friends this journey ends before it begins
Ride easy my friends this story ends before it begins, oh
Their faces were so empty meaningless and negative to me
I could have died
The bodies and the strangers reflected in their glasses as they drank not seeing eye to eye many days Ive traveled going round in social circles lost, lost along the way
Many nights Ive reveled but I thought I saw the message in a bottle and drifting away

song performed by by Asia
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Accept my sympathy

In all sincerity
It is a pathetic pity
I merely offer sympathy
With such velocity
This sadness born out of the blue
That decides to levy itself on you

In your fixed stillness
I sense your illness
Accept my sympathy

You lost a pet
Somebody made you upset
Accept my sympathy

You lost a friend
Your broken heart is yet to mend
Accept my sympathy

You were once abused
Possibly at times wrongly accused
Accept my sympathy

You marriage is on the rocks
You got divorced, left without a buck
Accept my sympathy

You lost a fortune
Your voice can't sing a decent tune
Accept my sympathy

You lost in love or lost your job
Or perhaps at one stage got robbed
Accept my sympathy

Your life is a mess
Everything around you depresses

Whatever the circumstances
Accept my sympathy
And if I happen to show no sympathy
Please accept my sympathy!

www.sylviachidi.co.uk

poem by Sylvia Chidi
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Sympathy In End

In all sincerity
It is a pathetic pity
I merely offer sympathy
With such velocity
This sadness born out of the blue
That decides to levy itself on you

In your fixed stillness
I sense your illness
Accept my sympathy

You lost a pet
Somebody made you upset
Accept my sympathy

You lost a friend
Your broken heart is yet to mend
Accept my sympathy

You were once abused
Possibly at times wrongly accused
Accept my sympathy

You marriage is on the rocks
You got divorced, left without a buck
Accept my sympathy

You lost a fortune
Your voice can't sing a decent tune
Accept my sympathy

You lost in love or lost your job
Or perhaps at one stage got robbed
Accept my sympathy

Your life is a mess
Everything around you depresses

Whatever the circumstances
Accept my sympathy
And if I happen to show no sympathy
Please accept my sympathy! By SARTHAK DAS

poem by Sarthak Das
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The Old School Clock

'Twas a quaint old clock with a quaint old face,
and great iron weights and chain.
It stopped when it liked, and before it struck
it creaked as if 'twere in pain.
It had seen many years, and it seemed to say,
'I'm one of the real old stock',
To the youthful fry, who with reverence looked
on the face of the old school clock.
What a terrible frown did the old clock wear
to the truant who timidly cast
An anxious eye on those merciless hands,
that for him had been moving too fast!
But its frown soon changed, for it loved to smile
on the thoughtless, noisy flock,
And it creaked and whirred, and struck with glee,
Did that genial, good humoured old clock.
Well, years had passed, and my mind was filled
with the world, its cares and ways,
When again I stood in that little school
where I passed my boyhood days.
My old friend was gone! And there hung a thing
that my sorrow seemed to mock,
As I gazed with a tear and a softened heart
at a new-fashioned Yankee clock.

'Tis the way of the world. Old friends pass away
and fresh faces arise in their stead.
But still 'mid the din and bustle of life
we cherish fond thoughts of the dead.
Yes, dearly those memories cling round my heart,
and bravely withstand Time's rude shock;
But not one is more dear or more hallowed to me
than the face of that old school clock.

poem by John Boyle O'Reilly
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The clock is clicking

The clock is clicking
It is clicking to show just then
A time span of one second
Has become the past
The clock is clicking

Each click means a step
Towards your progress and growth
Optimistic wisdom says
The clock is clicking

Each click means a nail
Onto your coffin
Philosophical wisdom says
The clock is clicking

Each click means the arrival
Of a child in India
Population expert worries
The clock is clicking

Each click means the committal
Of a crime
Police personnel observes
The clock is clicking

Each click means a travel of 2.5 km
In space of the earth's surface
Astromer estimates
The clock is clicking

Each click means a change
In fortune of an individual
Astrologer announces
The clock is clicking

Each click means the admission
Of a heart patient
Health specialist heaves
The clock is clicking

Each click means the drain
Of my battery
The clock cries within
The clock is clicking

Let the clock be clicking
Let any one have his or her inkling
Let us be lively and kicking
Let nothing stop us becoming a king

The clock is clicking

poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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The Date

Eight o’clock under the railway clock, she said.
I had bought flowers only because mother said
it was the right thing to do.

Nine o’clock, drizzle, flowers wet I felt daft, and
was hungry too. Threw flowers into a bin walked
to the restaurant; our table, still free. I had steak
with salad, potatoes and a bottle of red wine.
I had been stood up, but looked cool, I often go
out for a meal alone so what’s the big deal?

My date, Sandra, showed up at eleven and out of
breath, train delayed. Now the kitchen had closed,
but she got a bag of crisp.

poem by Oskar Hansen
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Ho Ho Ho And A Bottle Of Rhum

(lyrics by Jimmy Buffett & Ross Kunkel-
music by Jimmy Buffett Roger Guth & Peter Mayer)
Santa's stressed out as the holiday season draws near
He's been doing the same job now going on two thousand years
He's got pains in his brain and chimney scars cover his buns
He hates to admit it, but Christmas is more work than fun
He needs a vacation from bad decorations and snow
Mr. Claus has escape plans, a secret that only he knows
Beaches and palm trees appear night and day in his dreams
A break from his wife, his half frozen life
the elves and that damn reindeer team
Ho Ho Ho and a bottle of rhum
Santa's run off to the Caribbean
He thinks about boat drinks and fun in the sun
Ho Ho Ho and a bottle of rhum
Plastic creations and crass exploitations aren't good
He wants to go back to simple toys made out of wood
Just for the weekend he'd like to be Peter Pan
Get out his long johns and dance with a sword in the sand
Chorus:
Ho Ho Ho and a bottle of rhum
Santa's run off to the Caribbean
Marimbas, calimbas, he's playing steel drums
Ho Ho Ho and a bottle of rhum
(Bridge)
Chorus:
Ho Ho Ho and a bottle of rhum
Santa's run off to the Caribbean
Marimbas, calimbas, he's playing steel drums
Ho Ho Ho and a bottle of rhum
Ho Ho Ho and a bottle of rhum
Santa's run off to the Caribbean
A week in the tropics and he'll be all right
Sporting a tan as he rides out of sight
(over the drums)
Merry Christmas to all, and to all... good night.

song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dead And Broken

Too many things I've never spoken
I'm not feeling fine
I never told you what to do
I never made you a promise that you could hold me to
That'll be the day you see me crying
Everyday, I still say you're dead and broken
Everyday, I still say you're dead and broken
You're dead and broken
How many different faces can you show me?
How many times can you be right?
Another world of fantasy
Another reason for dramatizing everything
Taking it all in just one more time
I'm dying
Everyday, I still say you're dead and broken
Everyday, I still say you're dead and broken
You're dead and broken
Sorry to see that you're underestimated lately
I'd rather be dead and broken than living in your grace
Everyday, I still say you're dead and broken
Everyday, I still say you're dead and broken
You're dead and broken
You're dead and broken
You're dead and broken
You're dead and broken
You're dead and broken
You're dead and broken
You're dead and broken

song performed by by Godsmack
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ho Ho Ho & A Bottle Of Rhum

(lyrics by jimmy buffett & ross kunkel-
Music by jimmy buffett roger guth & peter mayer)
Santas stressed out as the holiday season draws near
Hes been doing the same job now going on two thousand years
Hes got pains in his brain and chimney scars cover his buns
He hates to admit it, but christmas is more work than fun
He needs a vacation from bad decorations and snow
Mr. claus has escape plans, a secret that only he knows
Beaches and palm trees appear night and day in his dreams
A break from his wife, his half frozen life
The elves and that damn reindeer team
Ho ho ho and a bottle of rhum
Santas run off to the caribbean
He thinks about boat drinks and fun in the sun
Ho ho ho and a bottle of rhum
Plastic creations and crass exploitations arent good
He wants to go back to simple toys made out of wood
Just for the weekend hed like to be peter pan
Get out his long johns and dance with a sword in the sand
Chorus:
Ho ho ho and a bottle of rhum
Santas run off to the caribbean
Marimbas, calimbas, hes playing steel drums
Ho ho ho and a bottle of rhum
(bridge)
Chorus:
Ho ho ho and a bottle of rhum
Santas run off to the caribbean
Marimbas, calimbas, hes playing steel drums
Ho ho ho and a bottle of rhum
Ho ho ho and a bottle of rhum
Santas run off to the caribbean
A week in the tropics and hell be all right
Sporting a tan as he rides out of sight
(over the drums)
Merry christmas to all and to all a good night

song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sitting In My Hotel

If my friends could see me now, driving round just like a film star,
In a chauffeur driven jam jar, they would laugh.
They would all be saying that its not really me,
They would all be asking who Im trying to be.
If my friends could see me now,
Looking out my hotel window,
Dressed in satin strides and two-tone daisy roots,
If my friends could see me now I know they would smile.
Sitting in my hotel, hiding from the dramas of this great big world,
Seven stories high, looking at the world go by-y.
Sitting in my hotel room, thinking about the countryside and sunny days in june.
Trying to hide the gloom, sitting in my hotel room.
If my friends could see me now, dressing up in my bow-tie,
Prancing round the room like some outrageous poove,
They would tell me that Im just being used
They would ask me what Im trying to prove.
They would see me in my hotel,
Watching late shows till the morning,
Writing songs for old time vaudeville revues.
All my friends would ask me what its all leading to.
Sitting in my hotel, looking through the window at the people in the street,
Seven stories high looking at the world go by,
Sitting in my hotel, looking at the world outside.
If my friends could see me now they would try to understand me,
They would ask me what on earth Im trying to prove.
All my friends would ask me what its all leading to.

song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Chomillah palace in Hyderabad

The palace was luminously wet and reached out to sky
In its shadow lay the kings and their faceless women
Whose fine drapery interrupted their noses and seeing eyes
Under big-vaulting domes and resounding halls.
Their noises went up to the ceiling and returned empty
Like their noses and eyes lost from their faces.
They were not lost actually but had never been there.
When the silks arrived they forgot the women’s faces.
The women sat there gossiping about other women,
Other women in the harem and their fine draperies.
Their men’s bloated egos did not show on men’s faces;
Their men’s egos showed on the women’s stomachs, ,
On the little heirs to the throne who came from there.
A fine bangle, a glittering necklace and some pearls
Hush talk about the latest addition to the harem
And other scraps of conversation went on as it rained.
They had no faces for the evening conversation,
Only bodies fully draped in the finest gilded silks.
In the beginning they sat on the ground huddled.
Later the West grew on them in the white man’s land
And they sat on sofas and high backed chairs presiding
Tea ceremonies just like the sophisticated women.
They still did not have their noses on their faces.

poem by Jagannath rao Adukuri
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I'm feeling all alone

I've always said this is a big big world
And now I'm lost in this world
Lost feeling...
Lost love...
Lost and confused,
Even broken and used.

Lost everything for love
I'm so lost
Im dying inside
When trus is lost, how can things,
move forward?

I'm feeling all alone
I'm lost in my feelings
I'm lost in everything.

I los him...
I los his heart.

Wanted to write a poem
But lost the words
I've lost everything and I don't,
Know why.

I'm lost in this world
My mind is lost
I cant seem to trust anyone
Thoughts of nothing
No dreams or goals
I'm lost in this world.

poem by Maria Luisa Taylor
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The Monotony Of A Clock

I envy the monotony
Of every single clock I see
I behold the mystery of the clock
I'm jealous of each tick and tock

The variations of its hands
Are much greater than in my plan
All that changes in my life
Is how sad I am from day to night

If you listen carefully
You may just see what I see
What plans have you for our short-lived time?
Do you sit like me and rhyme?

Go out, be free
Let no schedule hinder thee
Wonder not upon the clock
I surely tell you, it won't stop

Unto our friend, you should not mock
But instead, respect this wise old clock
If for nothing else than this
It showed you the pain of repetitiveness

poem by Scott Marek
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Alone

Over the fence, the dead settle in
for a journey. Nine o'clock.
You are alone for the first time
today. Boys asleep. Husband out.

A beer bottle sweats in your hand,
and sea lavender clogs the air
with perfume. Think of yourself.
Your arms rest with nothing to do

after weeks spent attending to others.
Your thoughts turn to whether
butter will last the week, how much
longer the car can run on its partial tank of gas.

poem by Deborah Ager
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Do Like You

(keita) show me how to do like you
(aisha) if you say please
(keita) please
Since age one keita knew he had the answer
And it was that someday hed be a dancer
And with help from his sis
Surely that boy would not miss
From being the baddest dancer in the whole neighborhood
Late at night when he was supposed to be sleeping
You could hear the pitter patter of feet creeping
To where music would play
To his sister he would say
Before his father said hey boy get right back in that bed
Show me how to do like you
Show me how to do it
Show me how to do like you
Show me how to do it
- can you rock can you rock
Show me how to do like you
Can you rock around the clock, can you rock
Show me how to do it
- can you rock can you rock
Show me how to do like you
Can you rock around the clock, can you rock
Once at school they put on a talent contest
To find out who could really boogy the best
But his mama said no
Keitas much too young to go
But his sister said please let him go so the world can see
When they saw him they said he must be crazy
Look at him he aint nothing but a baby
But soon as he began
You knew the contest he would win
Because everyone in the audience began to cheer
Show me how to do like you
Show me how to do it
Show me how to do like you
Show me how to do it
- can you rock can you rock
Show me how to do like you
Can you rock around the clock, can you rock
Show me how to do it
- can you rock can you rock
Show me how to do like you
Can you rock around the clock, can you rock
Show me how to do it
- can you rock can you rock
Show me how to do like you
Can you rock around the clock, can you rock
Show me how to do it
(aisha) ooh, you done broke mamas lamp
(keita) uh, uh
(aisha) yes you did
(keita) no I didnt

song performed by by Stevie Wonder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Is Needed Most Right Now

'That number multiplied by itself
Is no further than the previous number
Added to it!
5x5=25
6x6=36
Five plus six is eleven, right?
Add eleven onto 25 and you have 6x6!
Or subtract eleven from 36 and you will have 25! '

Why isn't mathematics taught that way?
In our schools?

'It would start an avalanche of thinkers...
And what is needed most right now,
Is a supply of more gullible people!
And 'that' we seem to be losing ground on.
That is becoming low in supply...
And ignorance spreads like wild fire!
Why?
We wonder.
WHO is subduing the process of thought?
They are 'not' doing a good job at that at all!
'Thinking Stinks'
And that is the message we want to send!
Critical thinking is not in demand.
We must create fresh beliefs
Before we lose the land! '

Good luck...
You lost me with this one!
Wake me up for recess!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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