En.Citatepedia^®.ro

The dusty one is not dirty

Wheels are dusty; Mudguards are dusty;
The hygienic steering never despises.
It knows dust comes from the work done.
Don’t despise coolies for their lowness.
22.09.2000, Vijayavada

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Dust Of Africa

The dust of Africa,
Born into the mist of a dusty atmosphere;
What does the future hold for us?
Oh Africa! Oh Africa! ! Oh Africa! ! !
The misty mix of a Black Continent;
From the desert up there to the south,
The wind blows the natural air to all mankind.
On this earth,
We Africans are mixed with a dusty air!
The dust of Africa,
Have you seen it in Libya, Tunisia, Egypt and Morocco?
The dust of Africa,
What about Algeria, Western Sahara and Mauritania?
The dust of Africa,
Do visit Mali, Niger, Chad, Sudan, Eritrea and Ethiopia;
Also, down south to Namibia!
The misty mix of a Black Continent;
Oh Africa! The dust of Africa! !
To the outstretched sandy dust of the desert,
This could be sold for money.
What about the West Coast of Africa?
From Senegal, Gambia, Guinea Bissau, Guinea and Sierra Leone;
From Liberia, Ivory Coast, Burkina Faso, Ghana and Togo;
From Benin to Nigeria with the same problem of the dust,
The dusty wind changes the colour in our rooms too.
Live in Africa to experience this act,
Shop in Africa to know the facts;
From Cameroon, Central African Republic and Congo Brazzaville;
From The Democratic Republic of Congo, Kenya and Uganda;
From Tanzania, Angola, Zambia, Zimbabwe and Mozambique;
From Botswana, Lesotho, Swaziland, Somalia and South Africa;
Our eyes and our clothes do ell it all in Madagascar also.
What about Cape Verde Island, Comoros Island and Mauritius?
What about Seychelles, Equatorial Guinea, Sao Tome and Principe?
Dusty wind, dusty wind, the dusty wind of Africa!

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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An Old Dusty Guitar

I walked into a shop one day,
in a dusty corner stood an old guitar.
Dust was playing its only refrain now;
no one took much notice
of it standing there
with several broken strings
looking worn and forlorn.
As I stood and looked at it, I
wondered what stories it could tell.
Were you played by someone famous,
and how many footlights did it see? On the other hand,
were you just strummed by someone
dreaming of stardom out of reach?
How far did this dreamer get, oh, old dusty guitar.
How much I would love to hear your story,
but I have to leave much to my regret,
but if your still hear tomorrow,
and I have enough money.
You will no longer be
an old dusty guitar,
for you will belong to me.

poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Words On Dusty Surfaces

we’ve seen words
various, common and different
fingered on dust;
words you can wipe away

I’ve seen often enough,
for example,
on a teacher’s dusty car at the school car park:
Wash me!

or cheeky words written
on a dusty street window:
Peep in!

and this morning, I saw one
on the back of a van before me:
I’m happy. Are you happy?

poem by Raj Arumugam
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Dusty Road

I walk the line, look straight ahead
A second chance, one slip and its gone
Though the bird has flown, the sands of time stand still
Scars that never heal, wounds you always feel
Keep on walking that dusty road, blinded by the flame
Keep on walking that dusty road, never giving in
A single light, you hold your breath
Your heart beats fast, a skin that burns
Maybe the tide has turned, one goal you know is near
And wish of a thousand nights, voices you always hear
So keep on walking that dusty road, blinded by the flame
Keep on walking that dusty road, never giving in

song performed by by Asia
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dusty Springfield

(blossom dearie / norma tanega)
Dusty springfield, thats a pretty name
It even sounds like a game
In a green field, hobby horses play the dusty game when its may
Pink and paisley skies shining in green eyes
A magic pin wheel
London flowers in her hair
Dusty springfield
Silver starshine over crystal waters
Petals fall from her glance
Flowers sparkle
With a dew of morning, feathers float from her dance
Suddenly the songs the thing
Fill your cup, come to the spring
And youll stand so still
And youll feel the thrill
Dusty springfield, thats a pretty name
Pretty as a pearl
What a pretty girl

song performed by by Dusty Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Curtain Of Desperation

They stood in the curtain of desperation
with cold eyes narrowed on one another.
Their hearts beating quicker as moments ticked by
and the dust that curled around their boots,
where one within would eventually lie.
They stood facing one another
on the lonely dusty street with no heart.
Their hands hovered nervously
over the guns they wore on their hips.
Each waited for the others move,
and slowly the hands moved closer
to the marking of one’s time.
Within seconds, it was over
as two cracks of thunder broke the silence
with smoke mixed with dust concealing momentarily
the lonely dusty street with no heart.
When it cleared, only one was standing,
the other lay in the dust cold and silent.
The curtain of desperation that was ripped apart
in the thunder, smoke and dust.
Now it cleared to the only one
who would walk away to face
the curtain of desperation
again on another day.

1 July 2011

poem by David Harris
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Red Velvet

Four months ago in april on a daycoach she came down
And the dust autumn winds begin to blow
Shoulda known I couldnt hold livin out so far from town
And the nights to come are long are slow to go
Well now shes up and left me and when walkin down the line
And the dusty autumn wind begins to blow
All dressed up in red velvet and he high heeled shoes so fine
And the nights to come are long and slow to go
Well if I had only know before we kissed
You cant keep red velvet on a poor dirt farm like this
Oh now shes gone and left me and went walkin down the line
And the dusty autumn winds begin to blow
Well Ill sit and count the evening stars as they walk around
When the dusty autumn winds begin to blow
Then Ill call my dog and Ill take the truck and Ill drive on into town
Cause the nights to come are long and slow to go
Well Ill sit and count the evening stars as they walk around
When the dusty autumn winds begin to blow
Then Ill call my dog and Ill take the truck and Ill drive on into town
Cause the nights to come are long and slow to go
And those dusty autumn winds begin to blow

song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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From the dust of time

Hidden in the pages of a dusty book
I found a note- ‘waiting for you'
Who wrote it? How did she look?
We never met, it's long overdue.
Beneath dust of time, my mind was a mess
I couldn't remember her or recollect the face
Is she still waiting or sailed elsewhere
She was waiting for me, why didn't I care?
Why didn't she call again, send a reminder?
She was waiting, I didn't go to her.
In life's passage, an event mundane
The note in the dusty book became heart's burden.

poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Snatching

The one, who is particular that his wife
Must be a virgin, share0 with him alone
Her flesh and love and shall, otherwise, be
Over-thrown outright, ignores these norms
When he’s engaged with another woman,
Who had given her flesh and love to her
Husband and is a proven second hand,
And yet he is mad of her in pursuit.
Withholding and snatching are at work.
22.09.2000, Vijayavada

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Jericho

Tom Johnston
Windecor Music (BMI)
Well I'm standin' on top of the mountain
Just about a mile from Jericho.
And my throat is hot and dusty,
Down to the water I must go.
Catherine the Great and brave Ulysses
Playin' checkers out in the sun.
Jesse James and young William Bonnie
Have started a religion for everyone.
Well I'm standin' on top of the mountain
Just about a mile from Jericho.
And my throat is hot and dusty,
Down to the water I must go.
Well the drums they are loud down in rap town,
But the Pope has been quiet for days.
Well some gunmen robbed a bank in California
And the cops blew them all away.
If you don't like the picture don't turn it off.
The only way to change it is to do it yourself.
Well I'm standin' on top of the mountain
Just about a mile from Jericho.
And my throat is hot and dusty,
Down to the water I must go.
Peace and love on the wings of a dove
Has flown away.
We're payin' the rent
On the blood that's been spent,
On a mortgage that's too high to be paid.
Well I'm standin' on top of the mountain
Just about a mile from Jericho.
And my throat is hot and dusty,
Down to the water I must go.
Well I'm standin' on top of the mountain
Just about a mile from Jericho.
And my throat is hot and dusty,
Down to the water I must go.
Arranged by Tom Johnston and Guy Allison
Guest Artists:
Marc Russo - Horns
Yvonne Williams and Maxayne Lewis - Background Vocals

song performed by by Doobie Brothers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Few Things

mother's black and white picture
on the wall,

father's leather belt kept
in an old cabinet now dusty

too dusty memories
about a family long splintered by time

about pain
about happiness suppressed
about its ability to survive despite the odds

siblings come to a reunion party
wanting to remember more names

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Payment

A tortuous path of neurons arced a call: ‘Awake! ’
I did; in rising, peering, stretching, bearing,
Pained anticipation saw it all:
Foretold, another filthy day.

I drew the drape: diluvian lay the ground
Beneath a lazy leaden cloud – apissing out
The puddles; irksome on the roof –
The drumming drops of bitter glee
Were hounding out a hapless me –
Reinforcing doubt that I am sound.

I left the house
to go to work
to earn a crust
without a perk
then on to bust
another straining vessel.

Trudging on thro’ mud and clay, I pondered:
‘Why a drought of happy times?
Auspicious climes were
Old and fusty books
Atop a dusty shelf
Inside a morgue-of-a-room,
Somewhere in a long-forgotten library
Down a lane without a way.’

I thought again: ‘And still I pay.’

Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010

O how I
work work work work work work work work
work work work work work work work work
work work work work work work work work
work work work work work work work work
work work work work work work work work
work work work work work work work work
work work work work work work work work
work work work work work work work work

poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Wind and dust fight fierce
All green turn dull and dusty
Mercy, rains deterge

haiku by Indira Renganathan
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The base of the candle in dark

Karla Marx stood for those destitute
But his servant maid served penniless
For life and bore him a child valueless.
A burning candle has got its dark base.
02.10.2000, Vijayavada

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Kiss In The Dusty Road

The last kiss lay in the road
dusty and memory-filled
and I on my endless trek
paused more out of respect
and morbid passion-regret
asked my self
shall I retrieve it,
a curiosity,
inspect it
as lost artifice

or continue to tread my road
to endless, endings
even I know
lead no where?

How many last kisses
I ask
inhabit my roads
even I know
they cannot be endless
yet
how many
puckerings can I present
to new suitors
all intent
with new intents
and failing finishes?

A new kiss
with someone new
requires I think
first taking that dusty kiss
from the past renewed
and giving it first
another hopeless chance
and then infusing it with new
faith fulled energy
that says
we are are all
renewed in the offering;
transformed
and cleansed
in the sacrament
that is the formerly dusty
transformed kiss;

and we thereby again place ourselves
again in that category:
The
Hopelessly
Romantic Romantic.

So be it.

poem by Lonnie Hicks
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The glow of woman

A woman in glamour is like camphor;
A woman in modesty is like a candle;
A woman with composure is the coal.
They exude warmth to men accordingly.
22.09.2000, Vijayavada

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The unusual stimulating

When that lovely woman came out
At dawn, off her bed, in semi sleep,
Down her shoulder fell a cascading hair
In wild disorder. Yet how orderly!
What not is in order for a lovely frame?
22.09.2000, Vijayavada

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Franks 2000 Tv

Risin above the city, blocking out the noonday sun
It dwarfs the mighty redwoods and it towers over everyone
I still remember when that delivery truck came down our block
What a lucky guy, I hear he got the last one in stock
And the neighbors are just green
They say, thats the biggest screen weve ever seen!
Its franks 2000 tv (franks 2000 tv)
Everbody come and see(franks 2000 tv)
Franks 2000 tv (franks 2000 tv)
Thats franks remote control, you can look, but dont touch it, please
cause franks the one in charge and he decides what everybody sees
The pictures crystal clear and everything is magnified
Robert deniros mole has got to be ten feet wide
Everybody in the town
Can hear those 90,000 watts of dolby sound
And Im mighty proud to say
Now I can watch the simpsons from thirty blocks away
On franks 2000 tv (franks 2000 tv)
Everybody come and see (franks 2000 tv)
Franks 2000 tv (franks 2000 tv)
Everybody come and see (franks 2000 tv)
Im gonna get one of my own real soon
Its like having a drive-in movie in your own living room
Whoa, hey now... hey now na na na now
Hey now... hey now na na now
Franks 2000 tv (franks 2000 tv)
Everybody come and see (franks 2000 tv)
Franks 2000 tv (franks 2000 tv)
Got a two year warranty on parts and labor
Franks 2000 tv (franks 2000 tv)
Franks 2000 tv

song performed by by Weird Al Yankovic
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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2000 Miles

Theres something I need to say
Im not sad youre gone away no way
Wont be calling information
Or waiting at the railway station
You walked out of my front door
I wasnt then but now Im sure
I need to be at least 2000 miles away from you
2000 miles away from you
2000 miles away from you
2000 miles away from you
2000 miles away from you
Had to get me to the church on time
To say that silly I do I do nursery rhyme
Youve been bitching at me for awhile
Say hey now baby dont you cramp my style
Dont go beating me like that
Im glad I wont be coming back
I need to be at least 2000 miles away from you
2000 miles away from you
2000 miles away from you
2000 miles away from you
2000 miles away from you

song performed by by Erasure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On A Dusty Lane

On a dusty lane in Crowne Plaza
We happen to meet,
'Why do you turn them away'?
'Why do i lower them down'?

Had the windows thrown
An embrace to each other
The souls would have burned in solace...

In Ghalib Park, melancholic grace
The 'dew-drops(of sppech) '
Freeze and you pass by,
The evening passes
(Into the darkness of night)
And everyone passes,
Good lads and lasses,

Frozen; a statesque greif
Reciting, but where is the relief?

'God is great'
'God is great'
We touch the dust
With the openness of foreheads
The ants, come out of dust,
Bewildered, in the drizzles of rain
Return the eternal grief

'Read, recite or proclaim'
And the prayers of relief.

Think you why my heart
Fails to beat a symphony
Think you who's the perpetual theif
Read and recite
the secret of my grief

Mubeena is raped,
Listen to her unheard screams
Mingling with the melodramatic
Eternal themes, No gleams
In the murky streams
Of robbed honour, of life.

Mughli adorns her greif
With the jewels of patience
Death laments the pangs of disappeanece
The hope, the fear of recurrence,
And the dusty whirlpool of existence.

The school-boy's blood
Daubs the meadows deep-red
The snowflake, lost,
floating comes down
And weeps an elegy
Into the snow dust.....

The wind begins to blow
The snow weeps blood
And we happen to meet
In the dusty lane of Crowne Plaza.

Why to turn them away! ! !
Why to lower them down! !

Pehaps
''Life is a series of loose meaningless
Unconnected events.''

poem by Feroz Rather
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