The Party Is Over
when the party is over
you will be alone again
on some leftovers
and stained mantels
empty wine glasses
with some respect
for drops unconsumed
tables with some
morsels and crumbs
her perfume
sticking to the curtains
his smoke
clinging to glass
ash trays
the feigned affections
cliched by this
outdated display
of overused hugs
and kisses
the laughter that
reverberates
practically nothing
when they all leave
one by one like
trickles of moderate
rains
you are still asking
about your relevance
you are very drunk
and so you sleep
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
About a poem
You filled the glasses
Words into glasses glass made drops
Golden pots for a thunder-like
‘Drink’ of big silences
You filled the glasses
On the tables across the earth
Meanings laid walking on debris
You filled the glasses
Like hours into a sandclock
The sand upon which
You write up the names
Glass made drops
You write up the scars of a sip
Drunk you plough and keep ploughing
Over the dreams you spill
©Miroslava Odalovic
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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The Festivity
The Festivity
The party has ended they have all gone home, the house sighs,
I open windows cooling air clears away the smell of perfume
and full ashtrays. Wine glasses everywhere on tables, shelves
on the floor. Empties have to be thrown in the bin, and glasses
have to be cleaned and put back in the cupboard. Got to do it
now, I don’t want to be faced with this task tomorrow morning.
I’m glad they came to my day; glad to be alone also; sad too.
I’m one year older and time seems so short, the ocean of life is
not endless and the horizon ends just beyond where the sun
goes down.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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At the bar
Inebriated sailors.
Chatting laughter woman's
Worming foggy windows.
Swooping eyes on counters
Drops of gin stain,
On sticky fingers' stools
.
Glass are talking mirrors briefing corked air.
Air corked briefing talking glass.
Smiling teethes praying at pink cocktail glasses
Drunk of blond and red colour asses.
poem by Luca Menin
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This Evening
this evening is another lovely evening
i see stars. i think of some memories. sticky ones. sweet ones.
mouthwatering ones between us. in the room dim and cold. warmed by our
two bodies.kisses. hugs. touches. caresses. whispers.
indeed, this is a lovely evening.
i have a glass of mild wine in my hand. an orange. an apple. some spices
of mint and chili. to make me feel hot on this lovely, cold night. the wind blows
from the sea. i hear the waves. but they are sounding so gently
reminding of a boat where we ride. kisses. hugs. touches. caresses.
whispers. making love. the boat stopped in the middle of the ocean.
both of us.
indeed this is a lovely evening. i have another glass of wine. an orange.
some chili. some pepper.
i like it hot. these memories. i have your picture in my hand. your last letter.
i have the picture of you and your husband. and your children. they all have
grown up. your daughter looks just like you. some smiles. hugs. kisses.
embraces. your family on your last wedding anniversary. in maryland.
indeed this is a lovely evening. an honest one.
everything is accepted. everything is true. and i wish you all the happiness.
for indeed this is a lovely evening. with myself. still strong as ever.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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At The Party (of Fools)
at the party,
we wear smiles, we tell them
the way we hold our wine glasses
and puff the smoke
we tell them that here we are we want to belong
to everyone
that we after all
are parts of this socializing human race
aristotlic and platonic and
watsonic all rolled in our mind
we get drunk and for a while we group
in accordance with our categories
species
and then we realize
we are happier alone in bed
at the beach or somewhere else
where
only our hearts speak
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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All That's Left
All that’s left
Are two chairs
Empty wine glasses
And a slice of chocolate cake
Mosquitoes now swarm like memories
Over an unfinished dream
We were there
Two people
On two chairs
Wine and chocolate cake
It’s late now
Bamboo patches dark and dangerous
We left in laughter
Came in tears
Two people
Two glasses and chocolate cake
Our words like colours
On an empty canvass
poem by Wesley Gibbings
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Gimme All Your Lovin'
I got to have a shot of what you got is oh so sweet.
You got to make it hot, like a boomerang I need a repeat,
Gimme all your lovin', all your hugs and kisses too,
Gimme all your lovin', don't let up until we're through,
You got to whip it up and hit me like a ton of lead,
If I blow my top will you let it go to your head?
Gimme all your lovin', all your hugs and kisses too,
Gimme all your lovin', don't let up until we're through.
You got to move it up and use it like a screwball would.
You got to pack it up, work it like a new boy would.
Gimme all your lovin', all your hugs and kisses too.
Gimme all your lovin', don't let up until we're through.
Gimme all your lovin', all your hugs and kisses too.
Gimme all your lovin', don't let up until we're through.
Until we're through.
Gimme all your lovin'
Gimme all your lovin'
And your kisses too.
song performed by by Lonestar
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fragments - Lines 0467 - 0496
Of those now here with us, do not detain anyone who is unwilling to remain,
Nor show the door to anyone who does not wish to go,
Nor wake anyone who is sleeping, Simonides, should one of us,
Well fortified by wine, be gripped by gentle slumber;
Nor bid the wakeful man to sleep against his will;
For everything that is forced is by nature painful.
For the one who wants to drink, let the boy stand close and pour;
Not on all nights is it possible to enjoy delights like these.
But as for me, since I have reached my limit of honey-sweet wine,
I shall think of sleep that loosens cares, going home.
I have reached the point when a man feels most pleasure in drinking wine,
Being neither sober at all nor yet excessively drunk.
Whoever goes beyond the limit of drinking, that man no longer
Is master of his own tongue or of his mind;
He talks recklessly, saying things which the sober find disgraceful,
And feels no shame in any action when he is drunk,
A man of sound sense before, and now a fool. But you,
Understanding these things, should not drink to excess,
But either stand up and leave before you get drunk -- don't let your belly
Overpower you as if you were a base laborer hired by the day --
Or else stay put and refrain from drinking. But no, 'Pour me another'
Is what you keep idly chattering, and that's why you get drunk.
For one cup comes around in the name of friendship, another on a bet;
Another you pour out as a libation for the gods, another you keep on hand,
And you do not know how to refuse. That man is truly invincible,
Who though he has drunk many cups says nothing foolish.
As for the rest of you, take care in what you say as you linger around the wine bowl,
Steering well clear of quarrels with one another,
Speaking in a way that any may hear, whether you address one or all together.
Conducted in this way, a drinking-party proves far from unpleasant.
The Bell Rings
The bell rings through its own shadow.
Death knoll. Death knoll.
Reverberates and simulates the grief of eternity.
Valentine's love song chimes unheard in the ears of the pained.
They walk in stuffy, dry lines behind the moving pyre.
Why are they afraid to cry? Tradition dictates
Happiness.
They are moving to
The next world.
But no one laughs and coincidentally
No one cries
As the slow snake of despair slithers silently to the side of the stream.
The bell rings through its own shadow.
Death knoll. Death knoll.
Reverberates and simulates the grief of eternity.
Once a partnership expressed in words, now in emotion.
On this day we have opposites. The smoke rises from the bank
And every man has his head bowed. Every woman out of purile
RESPECT veils their face with mourning.
There
is
a
chain which is now broken.
There was love, there was a song,
Sung by the air, now full of smoke and flames,
Surged by the winds, now carrying her ashes
Now there is sadness and death.
The bell rings through its own shadow.
Death knoll. Death knoll.
Reverberates and simulates the grief of eternity.
The lotus trees dip over the side of the river where we used
To meet. There are two spaces on the grass were we sat.
They are empty now. The petals float away, carrying your memories
As the smoke in the air.
The bell rings through its own shadow.
Death knoll. Death knoll.
Reverberates and simulates the grief of eternity.
poem by Alex Sigston
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Respect To It
Respect to it has more than a one sided way
Do not expect the respect of others if respect to them you don't pay
You treat other people as you'd like them to treat you
And in turn they will give you the respect you are due
You may be the wealthiest and most powerful person in your town
And you feel that you have the right for to put others down
And others respect you or so to you it does appear
But between feigned and true respect the difference is quite clear
Despotic leaders believe the masses them do revere
But this sort of feigned adulation is adulation through fear
To protest in such circumstance they'd be risking their own lives
And the lives of their children as well as their wives
If you do not respect then respect do not expect to receive
Just a known fact of life that one ought to believe.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Inside The House Of Pain
a damaged brain inside a house of pain.
pieces of broken porcelain, all white and tiny.
under my feet. flying plates landing on walls.
smashed to the sound of bangs and cracks.
running mantels and falling glasses.
and viands splattering on the floors.
dirty carpets. stained curtains. broken windows.
loud words buzzing like giant bees in such a small
room. where everything is a crowd of cruel
words and slapping hands and pulling hairs.
mother wails and shouts for help.
father strikes her face. some blood bleeding
on unwashed handkerchiefs.
children running away. hiding in corners of
this world. all silent not needing any help because
they are all to afraid to become big like them.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Glass Of Wine
'What's in a glass of wine?'
There, set the glass where I can look within.
Now listen to me, friend, while I begin
And tell you what I see-
What I behold with my far-reaching eyes,
And what I know to be
Below the laughing bubbles that arise
Within this glass of wine.
There is a little spirit, night and day,
That cries one word, for ever and alway:
That single word is 'More!'
And whoso drinks a glass of wine, drinks him:
You fill the goblet full unto the brim,
And strive to silence him.
Glass after glass you drain to quench his thirst,
Each glass contains a spirit like the first;
And all their voices cry
Until they shriek and clamor, howl and rave,
And shout 'More!' noisily,
Till welcome death prepares the drunkard's grave,
And stills the imps that rave.
That see I in the wine:
And tears so many that I cannot guess;
And all these drops are labelled with 'Distress.'
I know you cannot see.
And at the bottom are the dregs of shame:
Oh! it is plain to me.
And there are woes too terrible to name:
Now drink your glass of wine.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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At The Party Last Night Till Dusk
you take your glass of red wine
and sit on one of the chairs in one corner
friends surround you
as though you are a port and they are docking boats
the laughter begins and continues
till nighttime till one
the glasses of wine take you to places
of memories
the conversations about the lives of other people
their misfortunes and sometimes successes
no one wants to leave
neither can all you keep on staying
till the wee hours of dusk
until the minds becomes groggy and restless
until you realize that peace has become elusive
you become part of the unforgiving crowd
amidst the words and sentences
you are one of those colons
so so alone this time
amidst the hill and mountains
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Falling Down
falling down poets,
falling down rain,
falling down reactors,
falling down planes.
hollow men with masks,
hollow dreams, hollow drugs.
hollow patriots, hollow Jesus,
hollow bodies, hollow hugs.
drunk men drunk on power,
drunk preachers drunk on salvation.
drunk drivers lost in the night,
drunk politicians annebriate the nation.
lonely men carry the biggest guns,
lonely children follow behind.
lonely widows blame themselves,
lonely lovers lose their mind.
truth slaps against the glass,
truth breaks down the door.
truth never compromises....
truth kisses the vagabond,
..... and weds the whore....
truth breaks the greedy man,
.... burns down the house,
and feeds the poor!
falling down poets...
falling down rain.
falling down illusions,
falling down pain.
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Red Tears
The blood screams
for you to stop,
it trickles down,
then it drops.
The blood stained tears
don't make a sound
even as they hit the ground.....
The blood stained tears
they fall and fall,
until I am
nothing at all
poem by Faith Franklin
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Don't Go Far Off
Don't go far off, not even for a day, because --
because -- I don't know how to say it: a day is long
and I will be waiting for you, as in an empty station
when the trains are parked off somewhere else, asleep.
Don't leave me, even for an hour, because
then the little drops of anguish will all run together,
the smoke that roams looking for a home will drift
into me, choking my lost heart.
Oh, may your silhouette never dissolve on the beach;
may your eyelids never flutter into the empty distance.
Don't leave me for a second, my dearest,
because in that moment you'll have gone so far
I'll wander mazily over all the earth, asking,
Will you come back? Will you leave me here, dying?
poem by Pablo Neruda
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Rainy Solitude
She sits in rainy solitude
Serenely waiting his return
Just time and quietude
Serenely waiting his return
Autumn chill is sitting in
Have wood for tonight's burn
Autumn chill is sitting in
Daylight hiding in the trees
By and by, darkness will win
Daylight hiding in the trees
One more glass of wine
Listening for his jingling keys
One more glass of wine
Soon he'll be gone once more
Two day trip on the railway line
Soon he'll be gone once more
For she loves her man dearly
Hugs and kisses him at the door
poem by Charles Hancock
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Eko Akete (lagos Nigeria)
Eko akete,
Where our wisdom is lost,
Where our identity is missed,
Where blind man leads full sighted folks
Where emotion is an alien
Where secularity under plays religion
Where leaders are led on goat’s string
Where men are beast to men,
Where thieves hold rallies
To the applauses of their victims,
Where all wisdom is lost
Where folly plays in high quarters
Yet,
Eko akete,
You’re home of wisdom.
If you know too much you’re of no good
If you know too less you’re a bike
If you’re moderate you are of no use
All are horses for the home-boys
Eko akete,
He who hugs you hugs thorns
She who kisses you kisses bristle
He who sees you and runs not
Has pains in ankle
He who waits on your promises
Invite poison to his heart
Eko akete, the home of wisdom!
poem by Stephen Olufemi Omolara
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Contrast Of Two Views
on the other fence
are colored lights
a party of laughter
and a fountain of
drinks
roast pig, San Miguel
beer, Tanduay rum
clinking glasses
merry widows and
glints of new
moonlights on
clear glass
between us is this
wall of barbed wire
and fortune plant tall
for hedges
as a contrast
in here the lights at
the patio are turned off
the dogs are sleeping soundly
and the chairs by the door
are turned upside down
it is as though
the world here is a store
closed
and the storekeeper is
heeding towards home
after recording the
volume of sales
the accounting is done
and windows are closed
and tables all covered
there is peace
on this side of the world
they say
that on the other side
they are trying to talk about
preventing another war
ideas clink
views are diverging
so much talk
there is a preparation
for something
big and
horrible
and they call it
a diplomatic party
where eyes look intently
on each other
where schemes are
hatched
where fledglings
come out hopping
like nuclear
bombs....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Sticking In My Eye
When I look round, I only see outta one eye
As the smoke surrounds my head, the sauna
I hear the voices, but I cant make out their words
Saying things, saying things that
I got something sticking in my eye
Got something sticking in my eye ( x 2 )
I feel unusual from thinking
About the underground decay, God help me
Kill beneath the camera, watch the world begin to cry
Its not from pity, it comes from
Whats been sticking in my eye
Got something sticking in my eye
song performed by by NOFX
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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