The Beauty Conscious Neighbor Of Mine
She walks slowly to the coffin
Bends a little and has closely seen
The dead woman’s face
Her neighbor for 360 days
Then she goes back
to her Seat
beside me, and fans her hair
'Closer', she whispers to my ear
“She needs a good make-up, dear”
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
The Way We Look At Things At First
the way you look at the woman
the way she walks and bears herself along a narrow alley,
the way she bends when she picks up
a coin, the way she blinks an eye,
or look at you when you stare at her
white face, black long hair flowing like silk in air,
her lips pouting at you
you think she is seducing you
her hands on her hips and her legs landing on the ground
like a wooden boat at the pier,
the way you look at first on the first impression is always on the
flesh
not on the shape of her bones
or the strength of her arteries and veins,
not always what is inside her guts,
or the brains in her
that you will not see unless
you go towards her, ask her name
take time together
and ask her what she thinks about
loneliness and pain
by then you will know if she is really your woman
and it is only you and time
to tell the world that the days are still worth living
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sun-Woman
Let the sun show
over the hills, I love it so
Life is the sun,
the sun is life
let life rise, brightly, slowly, funly
let life never set.
But it does.
light turns to night, the
darkness comes
my eyes close slowly
sun, please don’t go.
please don’t go.
but wait-in the light of the setting sun
I see some hope
a slender shape
walks over the hills in the distance
the sun halls to a stop, seems
to look at the figure
seems to stare, decide if it’s worthy
then the sun starts flying,
back up into the sky.
the figure keeps walking, closer,
closer.
the sun keeps moving, as fast as light itself,
into the middle of the sky above me.
the shape is hope, hope itself
she is light, and for me, the only
way to avoid darkness.
She is not far now, I see her face.
she says, “Are you all right? ”
“Don’t worry, ” I tell her, “the sun is not
my enemy anymore. He is my ally.”
She smiles at my healing face, and then I say,
“You were my hope, you are my hope. You
are my only hope of avoiding the darkness.”
“And you are the same to me, my love, ”
She says.
I jump up and I take her hands,
and I sing, “My love, my hope,
when you go the darkness comes,
but as long as you come back
light will shed on my weary face.
I owe my life to you, Sun-Woman.
I owe my life to you, my love.
I owe my life to you.
I owe my life to you.”
poem by Llew N. Rmail
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If You're Not In it For Love (I'm Outta Here)
Mind if I sit down?
Can I buy you a round?
Haven't seen your face before
Are you new in town?
It's the same old line
Oh every time
Are you here alone?
Can I take you home?
Now every woman sees
With every "pretty please"
There's a pair of lyin' eyes
And a set of keys
He says come be a star
In the back seat of my car
Oh but baby slow down
You're goin' way too far
Let me make it clear
To you my dear
If you're not
In it for love (baby)
If you're not
Willin' to give it all you got
If you're not in it for life
If you're not in it for love
Let me make it clear
To you my dear
If you're not in it for love
I'm outta here!
Babe I can change your world
Make you a cover girl
Yeah you could be a beauty queen
In a magazine
Now tell me
song performed by by Shania Twain from Woman In Me
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Good Old Days
I remember the good old days.
The days when a black man such as myself could not even look at a white woman. Remember what happen to Emmett Till because he did.
Yeah the good old days
When a hard working woman named Rosa Parks got arrested
Just because she refused to get up and give a white man her seat.
The good old days
was when a group of men could burn down a of place worship
And kill four little black girls.
The good old days
When a man like Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.
got killed only because he had a dream.
I often hear people saying I miss the good old days.
But from my perspective those good old days
was not that good after all! !
Real (love)
REAL!
well lets see
now its just you me
we are here
here in each others arms my dear
me whispering words
you whispering more
can you guess as people stare and pass by in herds
one guy walks by david finally you got a score
we dont care
i just hold you tight and softly stroke your hair
you respond with smiles and hold me tighter
and i try closer to you and you closer to me too
we giggle like newlyweds
it seems we are in each others heads
knowing what we are saying whether we hear it or not
i love you my dear.... consoling words like these
as i tickle and tease
you and you laugh and blush next to me
and we hold each others hands happily
my dear i want to make this poem real
so that you can one day squeal
with laughter as i surprise you with roses a tickle and a kiss
i will make this!
Real
poem by David Knox
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The repentance
The unfortunate one was dead in her nineties,
In utter poverty and neglects.
She had fed me with stories,
One among them was Parasakthi
Which was later copied in celluloid
By M. Karunanithi as his own.
She told it and kept me to wonder;
She had led me to an imaginary world.
A steel framer and an estranged wife,
She was dear and near to a rich
Neighbour of my kin.
She had two butterflies as daughters,
The younger one was my playmate,
Later, as a woman, once my bedmate.
The elder one, who had many fans,
Retains her glamour even now.
The old woman was dead.
I never repaid my debts;
I never aided against her poverty,
I never cared to see her
While she was ailing and failing.
How ungrateful I am!
Ungratefulness is inborn.
When I am in deathbed,
None of my fans will be by my side.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Open Stage Poetry Reading
After the one that sings, and after the one
that can make up poems of a kind right on the spot;
after a girl who didn't . . . walk very well,
took five minutes to get from her seat to the stage
then read one poem with hardly any words in it
and halted the whole way back in a staggering silence;
after the bald one's rhymes about this teeth;
a woman got up whose poems won't write down,
it's all in the way the voices in her come out.
We went to a medium once, and a woman locked
in a trance let a dead man come inside her and talk.
She held herself like . . . a woman being a man.
That's what it was at the open stage poetry reading,
and I left without talking, I hadn't come expecting it.
What could I have told her, I think it's a dead man?
It wasn't something I wanted to get that close to.
I could never do it myself, let a dead man come in-
or would it be, into me, a dead woman that would come?
poem by Eric Torgersen
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Good Lookin Man
(joyce harrison)
Ive been catchin a glance
Do you like what you see
Even across the room
Your eyes been talkin to me
Easy to tell youve turned some heads
In your day
Hopin youll choose the next slow dance
To walk my way
Nothin like a good lookin
Good lookin man
More bout you than meets the eye
I wanna know first hand
Baby Ive got this strong feelin
Strong as a woman can
Im lookin into the face of love
And its a good lookin man
How did you get sweet fit
Right in each of those arms
Talkin as if were all alone
Workin your charm
Im likin that edgy temper
You try not to show
Notice the shyness in the way
You smile real slow
Nothin like a good lookin
Good lookin man
More bout you than meets the eye
I wanna know first hand
Baby Ive got this strong feelin
Strong as a woman can
Im lookin into the face of love
And its a good lookin man
Come a little closer
Closer yet
The longer and longer Im with you
The better and better you get
Nothin like a good lookin
Good lookin man
More bout you than meets the eye
Im findin out first hand
Baby Ive got this strong feelin
Strong as a woman can
Im lookin into the face of love
And its a good lookin man
Come a little closer
Closer yet
Ooooh, closer yet
Closer yet...
song performed by by LeAnn Rimes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Barman
Bar man walks up
Chews
puts something behind the bar
a pen -still- behind his ear
walks back
He bends down
comes up with a bottle
flips it
walks round a corner
poem by Michael Oliver
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Closer To Me
(john farrar)
I know that in time I can handle this a little better
But what can I do if your heart wont let her go
There are times I mean everything to you
Life can be so sweet when I do
You know...
You gotta know
Theres a better way to do this dance
Come and get closer to me
Get a little closer to me
Theres a better way to do this dance
Come and get closer to me
If you wanna go back where we used to be
Get a little closer to me
I beg you for the truth but I dont wanna hear it
You pour it all out and I wont go near it
Oh no, oh no, but I believe youre gonna love me again
So Ill try to make it easier till then
You know...
You gotta know
Theres a better way to do this dance
Come and get closer to me
Get a little closer to me
Theres a better way to do this dance
Come and get closer to me
If you wanna go back where we used to be
Get a little closer to me
Are you gonna break away, set yourself free
Let me see the kinder man that I used to see
Make yourself open up, let it all go
If youre really mine again, let this crazy fool know
Theres a better way to do this dance
Come and get closer to me
Get a little closer to me
Theres a better way to do this dance
Come and get closer to me
If you wanna go back where we used to be
Get a little closer to me
I wanna be closer
I wanna go back where we used to be
Oh baby, please get close to me
Get a little bit closer
I wanna be closer
I wanna be closer
I gotta be closer
song performed by by Olivia Newton-John
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fans Of Written Word Verse
fans I have no fans
fans are for past dead
fans are for present posers
I am not yet spent dead
I am still one of elite verse doers
I am still among rare word writers
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Coffin Car
Coffin car, shes riding a coffin car.
People watching her with tender eyes,
Friends whispering in kindly words,
Children running, waving hands,
Telling each other, how pretty she is.
Coffin car, she likes to ride a coffin car.
Friends making ways for the first time,
People throwing kisses for the first time,
Showering flowers, ringing bells,
Telling each other, how nice she is.
Coffin car, shes riding a coffin car.
Wives showing tears for the first time,
Husband taking their hats off for the first time,
Crushing their handkerchiefs, rubbing their nose,
Telling each other, how good she is.
Half the world is dead anyway,
The other half is asleep.
And life is killing her,
Telling her to join the dead.
So evry day, she likes to ride a coffin car,
A flower covered coffin car,
Pretending she was dead.
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Coffin Car
Coffin car, shes riding a coffin car.
People watching her with tender eyes,
Friends whispering in kindly words,
Children running, waving hands,
Telling each other, how pretty she is.
Coffin car, she likes to ride a coffin car.
Friends making ways for the first time,
People throwing kisses for the first time,
Showering flowers, ringing bells,
Telling each other, how nice she is.
Coffin car, shes riding a coffin car.
Wives showing tears for the first time,
Husband taking their hats off for the first time,
Crushing their handkerchiefs, rubbing their nose,
Telling each other, how good she is.
Half the world is dead anyway,
The other half is asleep.
And life is killing her,
Telling her to join the dead.
So evry day, she likes to ride a coffin car,
A flower covered coffin car,
Pretending she was dead.
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Learned To Stutter/coffin Car
Recorded live 3 june 1973 at the first international feminist conference, harvard university, cambridge, ma.
While john is setting up the amp...
What happened to me was that I was living as an artist and, who had relative freedom
As a woman and was considered the bitch in the society.
Since I met john, I was upgraded into a witch and I was...and I think that thats very flattering.
Anyway, what I learned from being with john is that the society solely treated me as a woman, as a woman who belonged to a man who is one of the most powerful people in our generation, and some of his closest friends told me that probably I should stay in the background, I should shut up, I should give up my work and that way Ill be happy.
And I got those advises, I was luck, I was over thirty and it was too late for me to change,
But still, still, this is one thing I want to say, sisters, because, with the wish that you know
Youre not alone, i...because the whole society started to attack me and the whole society wished me dead, I started accumulating a tremendous amount of guilt complex and in result of that I started to stutter. and I consider myself a very eloquent woman and also an attractive woman all my life and suddenly, because I was associated to john, that was considered an ugly woman, ugly jap, who took your monument or something away from you.
And thats when I realised how hard it is for woman, if I can start to stutter, being a strong woman and having lived thirty years by then, learn to stutter in three years of being treated as such, it is a very hard road.
Now the next song is called coffin car and this is a song that I observed in myself and also in many sisters who are riding on coffin cars.
Okay
Coffin car, shes riding a coffin car,
She likes to ride a coffin car.
People watching her with tender eyes,
Friends whispering in kindly words,
Children running, waving hands,
Telling each other, how pretty she is.
Coffin car, shes riding a coffin car,
She likes to ride a coffin car.
Friends making ways for the first time,
People throwing kisses for the first time,
Showering flowers, ringing bells,
Telling each other, how nice she is.
Coffin car, she likes to ride a coffin car,
Shes riding a coffin car.
Wives showing tears for the first time,
Husbands taking their hats off for the first time,
Crushing their handkerchiefs, rubbing their nose,
Telling each other, how good she is.
Half the world is dead anyway,
The other half is asleep.
And life is killing her,
Telling her to join the dead.
So evry day, she likes to ride a coffin car,
A flower covered coffin car,
Pretending she was dead.
Coffin car,
A flower covered coffin car,
A flower covered coffin car,
A flower covered coffin car.
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Her Desire for 40G
Now back when I was 28,
I met and loved a 38 –
DD!
Hmm…I never really saw her eyes…
Perhaps I never needed to –
‘Twas all about her size.
Come on, be honest,
You really show surprise?
Oh yes, the storyline:
One sunny day she said to me,
‘I need to make you happy, see,
By undergoing surgery
So you can have my guarantee
That when you see my 40G,
You’ll hit new heights of ecstasy! ’
‘Phew! ’ I drew a breath.
‘Well thank you dear, you’re very kind,
But won’t you risk me going blind?
If one of those should catch my eye,
I’m sure to wave them both goodbye;
And after all, you’re rather tall –
With extra weight you’ll likely fall;
Forwards, I should clarify.
Hmm…we’re back again to my poor eye.’
‘It’s all about your precious sight! ’
She screamed at me with all her might,
‘I only want to make you proud
And me to stand out in the crowd.’
‘You do already stand right out!
Any more, then there’s no doubt
You might as well just poke me blind,
So in the streets I’ll tag behind,
Unaware of all the fuss,
Especially when on the bus –
Assuming you could squeeze on board…
Hmm…at least I know I’ll be ignored…
Okay – go get them done.’
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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A Man Walks Slowly/ When He Has Nowhere Special To Go
A man walks slowly
When he has nowhere special to go-
A man walks slowly
And has the time to look around
The flowers, the trees,
His own memories his dreams-
He walks slowly
And enjoys his walking-
Who knows how much longer
He will be able to go on walking?
He walks slowsly
He has nowhere special to go-
He enjoys the morning light
He is at home with the world and happy-
He walks slowly
And is at home wherever he goes-
poem by Shalom Freedman
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A Year and a Day
Slow days have passed that make a year,
Slow hours that make a day,
Since I could take my first dear love
And kiss him the old way;
Yet the green leaves touch me on the cheek,
Dear Christ, this month of May.
I lie among the tall green grass
That bends above my head
And covers up my wasted face
And folds me in its bed
Tenderly and lovingly
Like grass above the dead.
Dim phantoms of an unknown ill
Float through my tired brain;
The unformed visions of my life
Pass by in ghostly train;
Some pause to touch me on the cheek,
Some scatter tears like rain.
A shadow falls along the grass
And lingers at my feet;
A new face lies between my hands --
Dear Christ, if I could weep
Tears to shut out the summer leaves
When this new face I greet.
Still it is but the memory
Of something I have seen
In the dreamy summer weather
When the green leaves came between:
The shadow of my dear love’s face --
So far and strange it seems.
The river ever running down
Between its grassy bed,
The voices of a thousand birds
That clang above my head,
Shall bring to me a sadder dream
When this sad dream is dead.
A silence falls upon my heart
And hushes all its pain.
I stretch my hands in the long grass
And fall to sleep again,
There to lie empty of all love
Like beaten corn of grain.
poem by Elizabeth Eleanor Siddal
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In Tara's Halls
A MAN I praise that once in Tara's Hals
Said to the woman on his knees, 'Lie still.
My hundredth year is at an end. I think
That something is about to happen, I think
That the adventure of old age begins.
To many women I have said, ''Lie still,''
And given everything a woman needs,
A roof, good clothes, passion, love perhaps,
But never asked for love; should I ask that,
I shall be old indeed.'
Thereon the man
Went to the Sacred House and stood between
The golden plough and harrow and spoke aloud
That all attendants and the casual crowd might hear.
'God I have loved, but should I ask return
Of God or woman, the time were come to die.'
He bade, his hundred and first year at end,
Diggers and carpenters make grave and coffin;
Saw that the grave was deep, the coffin sound,
Summoned the generations of his house,
Lay in the coffin, stopped his breath and died.
poem by William Butler Yeats
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Satin In A Coffin
You were laying on the carpet
like you're satin in a coffin.
You said, "Do you believe what you're sayin'?"
Yeah right now, but not that often.
Are you dead or are you sleepin'?
Are you dead or are you sleepin'?
Are you dead or are you sleepin'?
God I sure hope you are dead.
Well you disappeared so often
like you dissolved into coffee.
Are you here right now
or are there probably fossils under your meat?
Are you dead or are you sleepin'?
Are you dead or are you sleepin'?
Are you dead or are you sleepin'?
God I sure hope you are dead.
Now the blow's been softened,
since the air we breathe's our coffin.
Well now the blow's been softened,
since the ocean is our coffin.
Often times you know our laughter
is your coffin ever after.
And you know the blow's been softened,
since the world is our coffin.
Well now the blow's been softened
since we are our own damn coffins.
Well everybody's talkin' about their short lists.
Everybody's talkin' about death.
You were laying on the carpet
like you're satin in a coffin.
You said, "Do you believe what you're sayin'?"
Yeah right now, but not that often.
Are you dead or are you sleepin'?
Are you dead or are you sleepin'?
Are you dead or are you sleepin'?
God, I sure hope you are dead.
song performed by by Modest Mouse
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I'm Outta Here!
Mind if i sit down?
Can i buy you a round?
Haven't seen your face before
Are you new in town?
It's the same old line
Oh every time
Are you here alone?
Can i take you home?
Now every woman sees
With every "pretty please"
There's a pair of lyin' eyes
And a set of keys
He says come be a star
In the back seat of my car
Oh but baby slow down
You're goin' way too far
Let me make it clear
To you my dear
If you're not
In it for love (baby)
If you're not
Willin' to give it all you got
If you're not in it for life
If you're not in it for love
Let me make it clear
To you my dear
If you're not in it for love
I'm outta here!
Babe i can change your world
Make you a cover girl
Yeah you could be a beauty queen
In a magazine
Now tell me, what's your sign?
Why always the same old line?
I'll be number 409
If you change your mind
Let me make it clear
To you my dear
If you're not
In it for love (baby)
If you're not
Willin' to give it all you got
If you're not in it for life
If you're not in it for love
Let me make it clear
To you my dear
If you're not in it for love
I'm outta here!
If you're not
In it for love (baby)
If you're not
Willin' to give it all you got
If you're not in it for life
If you're not in it for love
Let me make it clear
To you my dear
If you're not in it for love
I'm outta here!
If you're not in it for life
If you're not in it for love
I'm outta here!
song performed by by Shania Twain
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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