In the City
I watched ladies in pencil skirts,
pass as I listened to the brass band
all sleepy in the sunshine.
In those the days I worked in the City,
caught the tube every morning,
mostly arriving late, didn't care.
My mind was as free as a bird,
my mood optimistic like a butterfly
waiting for its wings to dry.
Nowadays I'm uptight, strung out,
stressed and can't relax,
but then, I could laze all day……
I remember the tall buildings,
high rise office blocks, fancy restaurants,
smart suited men and laborers.
Noisy pneumatic drills, road works,
Italian chefs swearing, flirting,
busy days, busy nights.
Blokes and girls taking liquid lunches,
working hard and being crazy,
I recall heartbeats of London life.
poem by Ruth Walters
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Wild Nights. Hot And Crazy Days
I'm gonna break-out
I'm gonna drive my car
I'm gonna get up and go
I want some action
I've been working so hard
I'm gonna over load
Can you feel the beat
Everybody's rockin' in the summer heat
As the sun goes down
Well deep down inside
You feel your tempature rise
For those wild nights
Hot and crazy days
Wild nights
Hot and crazy days
I'm feeling good tonight
I'm gonna cruise around
Makin' every head turn
Wind up the radio
I'm in the mood for some lovin'
Cause the night time's comin'
Can you feel the beat
Everybody's rockin' in the summer heat
As the sun goes down
Well deep down inside
You feel your tempature rise
For those wild nights
Hot and crazy days
Wild nights
Hot and crazy days
Come on
Gettin' hot tonight
Come on
That's right
Come on
There's no end in sight
Come on
Alright
I'm gonna break-out
I'm gonna drive my car
I'm gonna get up and go
I want some action
I've been working so hard
I'm gonna over load
Can you feel the beat
Everybody's rockin' in the summer heat
As the sun goes down
Well deep down inside
You feel your tempature rise
For those wild nights
Hot and crazy days
Wild nights
Hot and crazy days
Wild nights
Hot and crazy days
Wild nights
Hot and crazy days
Wild nights
Hot and crazy days
Wild nights
Hot and crazy days
Wild nights
Hot and crazy days
(fade)
song performed by by Judas Priest
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Big City Girls
(myles goodwyn)
Published by northern goody two tunes, ltd./capac - ascap
Late night hustle goin down in the city
A one way street on the wrong side of town
Young and foolish, man dont you know
All we could see were
Ladies in the night, walkin a straight line
Ladies in the night, workin overtime
Ladies in the night, doin the hustle
Ladies in the night, flexin their muscles
Ladies in the night, big city, big city girls
We worked out a deal with some chicks on the corner
Back at the room it was never to be
No one had money and the girls got so uptight
Ladies in the night, walkin a straight line
Ladies in the night, workin overtime
Ladies in the night, doin the hustle
Ladies in the night, flexin their muscles
Ladies in the night, big city, big city girls, so tough
Baby I know, its just what I see
Baby I know, its not what I need
Big city, big city girls
The next thing you know, things got rough, babe
They carved out a warnin with a switch blade knife
The message was clear, if you wanna play, you gotta pay
Ladies in the night, walkin a straight line
Ladies in the night, workin overtime
Ladies in the night, doin the hustle
Ladies in the night, flexin their muscles
Ladies in the night, big city, big city girls
song performed by by April Wine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Childhood Friends
I've known you since you were nine or ten
when you played with my sister in her cardboard den.
You were a skinny bean pole, a silly little thing,
the first girl to get to me, with your incessant chattering.
Whenever I lifted my head, you always seemed to be there
haunting me with your presence and getting in my hair.
Repeatedly I told you to scram and even chased you away,
but you returned to play the game you liked to play.
In the late fifties on Alvaston park, on Sunday afternoons
a number of us listened to Radio One's top twenty tunes.
Whilst we were singing and dancing like typical noisy teens,
you were in the corner of my eye trying not to be seen.
When school days were over I entered a different world,
the sixties brought crazy times along with forward girls.
I had my share of girl friends and searched for more,
but then I noticed you, the girl next door.
You had changed from a caterpillar into a gorgeous butterfly,
but you couldn't see it, and didn't want to try.
I noticed your potential but was too busy to spend the time
to date and impress you, with partying and wine.
Besides your rural boyfriend preferred you as you were,
a girl that dressed like a boy with no feminine flare.
Several months later you asked me to take you out
sometime when I wasn't busy or gadding about.
I took you to the places I used to frequent at night,
you were without doubt a stunning sight.
You bought stylish clothes and changed your hair,
it was a privilege to take you anywhere.
Your boyfriend objected and didn't like the new you
he didn't know what else you were likely to do.
He made you choose between town and country,
but it really came down to him or me.
poem by Orlando Belo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lord Have Mercy On The Working Man
(Kostas)
All around I hear the sound of money
But I ain't got a nickel to my name
And everywhere I look I see temptation
She stands on every corner and calls my name.
Won't you tell me if you can
'Cause life's so hard to understand
Why's the rich man busy dancing
While the poor man pays the band
Oh, they're billing me for killing me
Lord, have mercy on the working man.
Uncle Sam's got his hands in my pockets
And he helps himself each time he needs a dime
Them politicians treat me like a mushroom
'Cause they feed me bull and keep me in the blind.
Won't you tell me if you can
'Cause life's so hard to understand
Why's the rich man busy dancing
While the poor man pays the band
Oh, they're billing me for killing me
Lord, have mercy on the working man.
Hey, St. Peter, look down for a minute
And see this little man about to drown
There's quicksand all around and man I'm in it
Please help me up Lord, 'cause I'm going down.
Won't you tell me if you can
'Cause life's so hard to understand
Why's the rich man busy dancing
While the poor man pays the band
Oh, they're billing me for killing me
Lord, have mercy on the working man.
Won't you tell me if you can
'Cause life's so hard to understand
Why's the fat man busy dancing
While the thin man pays the band
Oh, they're billing me for killing me
Lord, have mercy on the working man.
Please Lord, have mercy on the working man.
Please Lord, have mercy on the working man...
song performed by by Travis Tritt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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How i wish those days were back
Just one peek out my busy life
I see everyone else having fun and sigh in grief
I remember my younger days when life seemed so easy
Now i don't why i'm alive, evrything appears so crazy
As I go back to my memories i cannot help but smile
The thoughts of my friends and fun linger about, a while
I used to think school was the worst way of suffering
I used all my time in plans of dreaming
I didn't realize how busy i would suddenly turn
when i thought more like the world-
and give up the dreams i childishly dreamed,
in order to get a decent job and get paid
so fearless and happy-oh how i wish those days were back
Busy
I am busy
you are busy
we are busy
but the old woman needs help
to find her way home.
I am busy
you are busy
we are busy
but the dove is too slow
to fly out of the way.
I am busy
you are busy
we are busy
but the children crossing the street
are too many.
I am busy
you are busy
we are busy....
I am busy
you are busy
we are...
busy.
poem by Marites C. Cayetano
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Counting The Days
Counting the days on the calendar
Strange how they bleed into each other
All that I need
Is a day with you
Pencil me in on your Saturday
Taking my leave
Should I be waylaid please wait for me
On a day with you
Maybe for now an hour will do
Remember my dear this time last year
The sunsets were late and the days were long
And the nights were filled with song
The nights were filled with song
Strolling the street we're strangely complete
Let's stay awake till the morning comes
We don't need anyone
We don't need anyone
Wasting my life at the traffic lights
Getting nowhere
Trapped in the turnstiles
Stay within reach
Of a day with you
Maybe for now and hour will do
song performed by by Bic Runga from Beautiful Collision
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Little Black Butterfly
I caught a little black butterfly,
I kept it in a jar.
I carried it with me
Where I went, near and far.
It listened to my problems,
My sorrows and my grief;
It kept me from self-destruction,
It brought me sweet relief.
My butterfly became my best friend,
My whole world in a jar,
So I had no need for real friends
For they all seemed under par.
Eventually, my butterfly withered
Fro the pressure of my sighs,
So much I believed it began to hate me,
And it shriveled up and died.
I wept and sobbed for days upon days-
Nothing could tame my tears-
For my black butterfly listened to me cry
And fluttered away all of my fears.
I mourned for my little black butterfly,
For it was so much more-
It was my friend, my family,
My confidante, and my haven-
Which is dead, but not lost.
My little black butterfly is gone,
But it still remains,
Fluttering on,
In my mind.
poem by Airohng Liebe
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A little pause
Days are busy, so are the nights
with endless struggles, clashes and fights
time ticks away, quietly flows the tide
pining for love and one joyous ride.
Days are busy, so are the nights
a little pause would have taken
happiness to great heights.
poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Exhausted
Exhausted.
From the high cost of living,
Charity giving and donated sweat.
Let's you and me,
Set aside some time so we...
Can get busy!
Exhausted!
From daily fears warned,
And people torned
Between what's right and wrong.
Let's you and me,
Cast aside those trivialities.
Getting butt naked...
And doing as we please,
Getting busy!
Exhausted...
From creditors who call,
To arrange bill payments!
The neighbors barking dogs,
And arguments not making sense.
Let's pretend we have none at all,
And get busy after dating for lunch...
Easing these tensions,
With the headboard banging against the wall.
Busy like rabbits and making catcalls.
Are you exhausted,
By those images I recall?
Me too!
And I am so glad you didn't dare me,
Like your eyes were wishing for those days
Like I do!
We both know we're too...
Busy to get naughty,
Like we did before age 40.
When we come to that line we'll cross it.
Next time!
But right now we're both much too exhausted!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Greatest Days Of All
(Dolly Parton)
A dirt dobber built its nest
On my only Sunday dress
And the roof leaked in my shoes
And when they dried they were too small
And the rats chewed a great big hole
In my only winter coat
And at night I'd hear them gnaw
The paper on my bedroom wall
But I still say
Those were the greatest days of all
Some happy and some sad
Some good and some bad
But I still say
Those were the greatest days of all
I used to wait by the garden gate
Where the hummingbirds came ev'ry day
To kiss the yellow roses
Growing up the garden wall
And in the tall grass I would lie
'Til ev'ning shadows brought the night
Thru the window of my room
I'd hear the whippoorwill's sad call
And I still say
Those were the greatest days of all
Some happy and some sad
Some good and some bad
But I still say
Those were the greatest days of all
Now as I make my way
Along the busy city sidewalks
My head arouring from the deafening city sound
You can't hear a whipporwill in this noisy city
And tall green grass don't grow
Along the sidewalks of this town
And hummingbirds don't fly around
These artificial roses
Like they did around the garden wall
And, oh, so often in my mind
I'll go back to another time
And I still say
Those were the greatest days of all
I still say
Those were the greatest days of all
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hairdresser On Fire
Here is london, giddy of london
Is it home of the free -
Or what ?
Can you squeeze me
Into an empty page of your diary
And psychologically save me
Ive got faith in you
I sense the power
Within the fingers
Within an hour the power
Could totally destroy me
(or, it could save my life)
Oh, here is london
Home of the brash, outrageous and free
You are repressed
But youre remarkably dressed
Is it real ?
And youre always busy
Really busy
Busy, busy
Oh, hairdresser on fire
All around sloane square
And youre just so busy
Busy, busy
Busy scissors
Oh, hairdresser on fire
(only the other day)
Was a client, over-cautious
He made you nervous
And when he said
Im gonna sue you
Oh, I really felt for you ...mmm...
So can you squeeze me
Into an empty page of your diary;
And supernaturally change me ?
Change me, change
Oh, here in london
Home of the brash, outrageous and free
You are repressed
But youre remarkably dressed
Is it real ?
And youre always busy
Really busy
Busy clippers
Oh, hairdresser on fire
All around sloane square
And youre just too busy
To see me
Busy clippers
Oh, hairdresser on fire
(only the other day)
song performed by by Morrissey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Unofficial
ONE morning, my heart can remember,
I sat dreaming there,
In the 'governor's' chair
In the office. The month was November,
And the weather a subject for prayer.
My mind strayed through visions unbounded--
Far-off seemed the din
That King William Street's in,
And the quill of the 'junior' sounded
Like the squeak of an elf's violin.
I was roused with a start--some one entered.
Though ground-glass divide
Off the sanctum inside,
The star where my homage was centred
In the office without I descried.
'Oh, kind Fate, to bring me my Kitty!
The boy I can send
At the bank to attend:
One partner's just gone from the City,
And the other is at the West End.
'Change two pounds, boy, for threepenny pieces!
And there isn't a franc
In the place!--I will thank
You to take down these coupons from Creasy's
To the London and Westminster Bank.'
He is gone! This can never be Kitty,
Alone here with me!
Can this ever be she,
Laughing here in the heart of the City,
With the old office cat on her knee?
'I hope, Ben,' she says, 'you are stronger,
And I hope it's not true
Work is injuring you;
And I'd better not stay any longer,
As you seem to have so much to do!'
But she does not go yet. Still she lingers,
Dry deed-boxes press
The crisp folds of her dress,
While the desk feels inquisitive fingers
In a touch that is half a caress.
Now, dreary and quiet the place is;
Here's the space on the floor
I remember of yore,
Which was brushed by her ribbons and laces
As she smiled her 'good-bye' at the door.
The violets she wore in her bosom,
So scented, dew-wet,
Are hard to forget;
The dim office grew fair with each blossom,
And their fragrance seems haunting it yet.
I'm in partnership now with old Bradley;
His brother is dead,
So I stand as the Head
Of affairs; and I'm thinking thus sadly
Of the sweetness of days that have fled.
My Wimbledon house--all that's in it--
My life, with its dower
Of money-bag power--
I would throw to the dogs in a minute,
To recall from those days but one hour.
Lost light of my eyes, little Kitty!
Too late now, too late;
But I'd give my estate
To be once more a clerk in the City--
In the office with you tête-à-tête.
poem by Edith Nesbit
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Old Days
Old days
Good times I remember
Fun days
Filled with simple pleasures
Drive-in movies
Comic books and blue jeans
Howdy doody
Baseball cards and birthdays
Take me back
To a world gone away
Memories
Seem like yesterday
Old days
Good times I remember
Gold days
Days Ill always treasure
Funny faces
Full of love and laughter
Funny places
Summer nights and streetcars
Take me back
To a world gone away
Boyhood memories
Seem like yesterday
Old days - in my mind and in my heart to stay
Old days - darkened dreams of good times gone away
Old days - days of love and feeling fancy free
Old days - days of magic still so close to me
Old days - in my mind and in my heart to stay
Old days - darkened dreams of good times gone away
Old days - days of love and feeling fancy free
Old days - days of magic still so close to me
song performed by by Chicago
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There Is More To Life Than Hard Work
I can't say my life's been a great life that I've been there and I've done that
But I worked in pipe laying crew for Michael Kelleher in Buninyong near Ballarat
And I worked in the late eighties for a firm called C.D.L.
Jack hammering in the heat of Summer when the days were hot as hell.
101 Collins Street Melbourne I remember that address
Not that I enjoyed the work there I remember none the less
Up each morning at five thirty then to work on tram I'd go
And left that building site each evening covered in dust head to toe.
Another four years as tree clearer up by powerlines clearing trees
Operating a cherry picker for such you don't need degrees
For a Travel tower company a growing concern managed by a greedy lot
They still owe me two weeks wages something I have not forgot.
Up working mornings at five thirty between work and travel a twelve hour day
Whilst my so called bosses made their millions I took home bare living pay
Now I take it nice and easy and I'm well off now as I was then
If your bosses make their millions for you there can't be a win
I worked as tree feller in Ireland far away and long ago
In the high woods by the mountains where the peaks wear hats of snow
Most Winter days were wet and chilly up to April not much sunshine
Only sound the cold wind soughing in the larch and spruce and pine.
'Hard work never did anybody harm' to coin that phrase it took a fool
Hard work your life's bound to shorten you can overwork a mule
Hard working Joe is dead at fifty, Pete on welfare living on
Pete five years older and quite healthy he's still here and Joe is gone.
Maybe I've drudged for a few years but I'm not proud of that at all
And if my life has got one highlight such as now I can't recall
And if one tell me how hard he work I tell him my watch is slow
And I'm late for an appointment 'see you later got to go'.
'Ned the basher' at his local like to sing his praises loud
And boast of the hard work he's done to an uninterested crowd,
He's proud to show his work callouses he must have an empty life
But he never once did mention how he often beats his wife
There is more to life than hard work, work to live but not to die
And if you labour hard poor fellow life you never can enjoy
If your boss is making millions and you take home bare living pay
Maybe you should have a re-think and perhaps give the job away.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Our Bird In Your Cage
we have this bird
we both own it and love it and care for it
our bird
and you have this cage
that you only own
golden, new and strong and as you say it
so reliable
that when our bird is in that cage
it will be safe
and cannot escape
we feed this bird together
and give it water and birdseeds
and a place of twigs and swing
where the bird can play
and perch upon
like it is on a tree
days and years
we keep this bird in your cage
and we see it is dying
and wanting to be free
yet you say, this sickness is just temporary
time heals what has wounded it
and shall forget the power of its wings
days and more years
we keep this bird in your cage
and i have not listened at all
to the sad song of that bird
her waning chirps
her weakened wings
her way of losing hold to the dreams of its wings
today we see this bird is dead
but you have no sadness at all
you say, you will buy another bird
again to be kept in your cage
i could have told you
i am the bird in your cage and i too have forgotten the power of
my wings
i could have told you, i have long died
and have forgotten what freedom is, what love is, what i am
in the first place. How can i ever tell you?
you are my cage.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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One Afternoon By The Cafe...
YOU get attuned to talking to yourself
while sitting on a bench
with coffee held by your left hand
your right hand simply doing nothing
you see the people passing by
like the hours in your
mind
like the hands of the watch
circling
busy, really busy
concentric and arriving at nothing
actually
it is the best that happens
in an afternoon
like this one
the manic days of March
meandering mind
reconnecting
readjusting....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Miss The Innocence
Not a worry in the world
Crazy boy and pretty girl
Man, life was simple then
Nothin that we had to do
And no one to answer to
Til reality stepped in
We're growing up
We've changed so much
I miss the innocence
The way it used to be
The way that we outran the world
Til it caught you and me
I miss the way it was
The way we used to laugh
The way it felt to fall in love
When dreams were all we had
Days like this, I miss the innocence
Another morning, here I am
Between a deadline and traffic jam
Cursing all the signs
We didn't talk before I left
We're always busy doing something else
And lately that's been on my mind
We're always rushed
There's no time for us
Chorus
song performed by by Phil Vassar
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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S3
let the days pass
let all the dreams ask
why are we still unfulfilled?
when will we become true?
let the days pass
let the mind be as busy as a marketplace
let the haggling be haggling
bargain bargain, compromises
let the days pass
let the hair on my head be all white
let the days eat me whole
and let me fade like a ghost
let there be none of me again
i have had enough
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I’m a busy man, I earn as I can
I’m a busy man, I earn as I can
Never bother who created man
I enjoy life as I can
People tell me, Get up early
I sleep late,
So go to hell
I’m a busy man, I earn as I can
Somewhere I read,
pray to god
I don’t have any time for that
I’m a busy man, I earn as I can
Mother says take care of health
I say most important is wealth
I’m a busy man, I earn as I can
Preachers preach,
Never be phony, Live honestly
I say fool as many
Being honest is being lousy
I’m a busy man, I earn as I can
My goal is money
Even if have to kill somebody
Life without money
Is bee without honey
I’m a busy man, I earn as I can
I met with an accident
Nobody lent a helping hand
I realized, I was disliked
I thought with all the might
To make life happy
One has to live rightly
Greed is worst for life
With it one can never rise
I’m a changed man
Contentment is my ambition
Now, I never earn as I can
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
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