The Spillway
I drove down to the lake today
Where the water flowed in through the old spillway
Lazy and bored I figured I'd just sit
Drink a beer or two and daydream a bit
I parked right next to a gnarled oak tree
In solitude where I wanted to be
Eighty eight point five played my favorite songs
I couldn't help myself so I sang along
Till I had a fancy to explore
I opened up the rusty blue Dodge Ram door
All bundled tight in my wool poncho
I stepped out the truck into ten below
Where the Permian red mud squished beneath my boots
Onto the flat full of geese and coots
The sky was depressing, dark and grey
Like you'd expect it to be on a funeral day
But I hadn't gone there to sulk or brood
Watching water fill the lake is always good
I walked a fair distance to the northeast side
Skipped a few rocks on the by and by
And just when I was sure that I was all alone
Up comes a hobo with a mangy redbone
I could tell by the look in his careful eye
That he was just as scared of me as to him was I
I put out my hand to introduce myself
Saying 'What's with the weather? It's cold as hell! '
He, 'That's a contradiction. It's about to snow'
Me, 'Yes, no, maybe and I just don't know'
He told me then that his name was Sam
He was down on his luck but not on the flim flam
And trusting I reached to scratch the red dog's ears
Something telling me there was nothing to fear
And Sam and I walked in unison
He did most of the talkin; me the listening
He pointed to a place in a far off nook
Where his tent was hid away in a secret crook
Sam said, 'It isn't much, but I call it home'
'I've gotta can o' beans and some stale corn pone'
So we sat on the ground and I lit a match
The wood smoke smell from the campfire patch
Making me think it was more of God's plan
That led me here to this homeless man
And together we ate with some plastic spoons
Chatting back and forth till way past noon
When my watch chime signaled it was time to go
To walk back to the spillway where the water flowed
Where Sam was my brother for one crazy day
Though I doubt there's a chance I'll ever see him again
Written by Sara Fielder © 2012
Dedicated to Smack Thompson
poem by Sara Fielder
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Everything's Turning To White
Late on a Friday my husband went up to the mountains with three friends
They took provisions and bottles of bourbon to last them all through the weekend
One hundred miles they drove just to fish in a stream
And there's so much water so close to home
When they arrived it was cold and dark; they set up their camp quickly
Warmed up with whisky they walked to the river where the water flowed past darkly
In the moonlight they saw the body of a young girl floating face down
And there's so much water so close to home
When he hold me now I'm pretending
I feel like I'm frozen inside
And behind my eyes
song performed by by Kasey Chambers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Seventeen
One day I met you at the fair
You wore a leather jacket and your Viking hair
Was blown into tangles by the autumn wind
And you looked at me with a sexy grin
As usual you had come alone
You smelled like musk and your Doc's Marten's shone
Then you greeted me with a lustful kiss
Saying 'Be right back, I gotta piss'
So I shrugged my shoulders and I breathed a sigh
You were always too honest and I was shy
Thinking 'Man, oh man, opposites DO attract'
Wishing you'd hurry up and be right back
And the dim lights flashed on the carnival rides
And the smell of food was strong and fried
Returning, you pinched me on the butt
Then you nuggied my head like a crazy nut
And we walked around till we came to a stand
That sold Heineken in glass or cans
And for three Deutch marks we got drunk obscene
When one beers all it took 'cause you're seventeen
Then we saw your brother on the bumper cars
Laughing up a storm as the twinkling stars
Were more luminous than they had ever been
Before that night or ever since
Then when no one was looking we snuck around
Where they hid all the wires that layed on the ground
And you took my face in your boyish hands
Saying 'Come with me to my Stairwell Land'
'And I'll lay down a blanket or sleeping bag
I'll smoke a joint and you a fag
And we'll makeout on the balcony
Till the sun comes up, or you have to leave'
The football field was down below
The chalk lines dirty against the glow
Of the full moon hanging in the Heidelberg sky
Where teenage love was drawing nigh
And we kissed and we cuddled never doing the deed
Cause I was a virgin and you were not keen
On messing things up by a physical thing
When our feelings meant more than a casual fling
And the hours went by at hyperspeed
When your mother came in saying 'Quarter to three? ! '
And the front door closed with it's German lock
To my own stairwell alone I walked
Into the bedroom where I lived in peace
Was the place I went and confusion ceased
While my parents quarrelled in the living room
Always chiding each other and full of gloom
On that night I swore right there and then
I would never EVER be like them
'Cause that night was like a swift vaccine
But what is love when youre seventeen?
Written by Sara Fielder © 2012
poem by Sara Fielder
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Water On The Ground
By eric clapton
Water on the ground, cloud on the sun,
Moon on the rise and the wind on the run.
But you know its only water,
Water on the ground.
Snow is falling, weather is cold.
Maybe Im just getting old.
And I think its only water,
Water on the ground.
Back to the rivers, back to the sea,
Keeps on running, just like me.
But you know its only water,
Water on the ground.
song performed by by Eric Clapton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Grandpa's Lake
He was sitting by himself all alone,
Down in a little corner.
Looking out of place, in the funeral home,
And away from all the mourners.
His dad walked up, and I heard him say,
Daddy can I go home?
I don't know why grandpa went away,
But he might be home alone.
I want to be there, when he gets back,
We were going fishing today.
He'll need his hooks and rods, and that burlap sack,
Where he puts the fish away.
His dad looked up, a tear in his eye,
And said 'grandpa's fishing now.'
But it's a great big lake, up in the sky,
And you can't go there right now.
He's fishing with his dad today,
They'll be fishing for some time.
They have a lot to do and say,
Cause to that lake it's a long steep climb.
They haven't seen each other,
In oh, so many years.
And grandpa's glad to see his father,
And both their eyes have tears.
And grandpa's a little boy again,
Just a fishing with his dad.
And on his face there's no more pain,
I hope for him your'e glad.
The little boy just smiled and said,
I guess I'm happy about that.
Yes for grampa I'm very glad,
But for me, I guess I'm sad.
I wanted to go fishing, with my grampa today.
But if you can take me,
To the lake, maybe the bay,
I'll go, my time is free.
I guess I'll wait to fish with grampa,
Till I can make it to his lake.
Maybe he'll find some secret spots,
I sure hope so, for my sake.
1/4/11 Alton Texas
poem by Juan Olivarez
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Smoke On The Water
We all came out to montreux
On the lake geneva shoreline
To make records with a mobile
We didnt have much time
Frank zappa and the mothers
Were at the best place around
But some stupid with a flare gun
Burned the place to the ground
Smoke on the water, fire in the sky
They burned down the gambling house
It died with an awful sound
Funky claude was running in and out
Pulling kids out the ground
When it all was over
We had to find another place
But swiss time was running out
It seemed that we would lose the race
Smoke on the water, fire in the sky
We ended up at the grand hotel
It was empty cold and bare
But with the rolling truck stones thing just outside
Making our music there
With a few red lights and a few old beds
We make a place to sweat
No matter what we get out of this
I know well never forget
Smoke on the water, fire in the sky
song performed by by Deep Purple
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Amber Cascades
Written by dewey bunnell, 1976
Found on hideaway, america live, and highway.
Amber cascades all over today
Then we walk on a crooked catwalk
Only to be delayed
Bubbles of blue burst into two
Eaten up by the incoming tide
Of the new
Then we call to the man who walks on the water
We talk of a plan to stop all the slaughter in view
Its in view
Granite charades are played in the rain
Till we fall through a sand castle window
To avoid the pain
Summer canoe paddles up to you
cause its time for another beer run
Or something thats equally true
Then we call to the man who walks on the water
We talk of a plan to stop all the slaughter in view
Then we call to the man who walks on the water
We talk of a plan to stop all the slaughter in view
Its in view
song performed by by America
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cain and Abel
Western Version
Cain and Abel were brothers born.
(Koop-la! Come along, cows!)
One raised cattle and one raised corn.
(Koop-la! Come along! Co-hoe!)
And Cain he farmed by the river-side,
So he did not care how much it dried.
For he banked, and he sluiced, and he ditched and he led
(And the Corn don't care for the Horn)--
A-half Euphrates out of her bed
To water his dam' Corn!
But Abel herded out on the plains
Where you have to go by the dams and rains.
It happened, after a three-year drought,
The wells, and the springs, and the dams gave out.
The Herd-bulls came to Cain's new house
(They wanted water so!--)
With the hot red Sun between their brows,
Sayin' "Give us water for our pore cows!"
But Cain he told 'em--"No!"
The Cows they came to Cain's big house
With the cold white Moon between their brows,
Sayin' "Give some water to us pore cows!"
But Cain he told 'em--"No?"
The li'l Calves came to Cain's fine house
With the Evenin' Star between their brows,
Sayin' "'Give us water an' we'll be cows."
But Cain he told 'em--"No!"
The Herd-bulls led 'em back again,
An' Abel went an' said to Cain: --
"Oh sell me water, my brother dear,
Or there will be no beef this year."
And Cain he answered--"No! "
"Then draw your hatches, my brother true,
An' let a little water through."
But Cain he answered: -"No!
"My dams are tight an' my ditches are sound,
An' not a drop goes through or round
Till she's done her duty by the Corn.
"I will not sell, an' I will not draw,
An' if you breach, I'll have the Law,
As sure as you are borne! "
Then Abel took his best bull-goad,
An' holed a dyke on the Eden road.
He opened her up with foot an' hand,
An' let Euphrates loose on the land.
He spilled Euphrates out on the plain,
So's all his cattle could drink again.
Then Cain he saw what Abel done--
But, in those days, there was no Gun!
So he made him a club of a hickory-limb,
An' halted Abel an' said to him: --
"I did not sell an' I did not draw,
An' now you've breached I'll have the Law.
"You ride abroad in your hat and spurs,
Hell-hoofin' over my cucumbers!
"You pray to the Lord to send you luck
An' you loose your steers in my garden-truck:
"An' now you're bust, as you ought to be,
You can keep on prayin' but not to me!"
Then Abel saw it meant the life;
But, in those days, there was no Knife:
So he up with his big bull-goad instead,
But--Cain hit first and dropped him dead!
The Herd-bulls ran when they smelt the blood,
An' horned an' pawed in that Red Mud.
The Calves they bawled, and the Steers they milled,
Because it was the First Man Killed;
An' the whole Herd broke for the Land of Nod,
An' Cain was left to be judged by God!
But, seein' all he had had to bear,
I never could call the Judgment fair!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Part 5 of Trout Fishing in America
WORSEWICK
Worsewick Hot Springs was nothing fancy. Somebody put some
boards across the creek. That was it.
The boards dammed up the creek enough to form a huge
bathtub there, and the creek flowed over the top of the boards,
invited like a postcard to the ocean a thousand miles away.
As I said Worsewick was nothing fancy, not like the
places where the swells go. There were no buildings around.
We saw an old shoe lying by the tub.
The hot springs came down off a hill and where they flowed
there was a bright orange scum through the sagebrush. The
hot springs flowed into the creek right there at the tub and
that' s where it was nice.
We parked our car on the dirt road and went down and took
off our clothes, then we took off the baby's clothes, and the
deerflies had at us until we got into the water, and then they
stopped.
There was a green slime growing around the edges of the
tub and there were dozens of dead fish floating in our bath.
Their bodies had been turned white by death, like frost on
iron doors. Their eyes were large and stiff.
The fish had made the mistake of going down the creek too
far and ending up in hot water, singing, "When you lose your
money, learn to lose."
We played and relaxed in the water. The green slime and
the dead fish played and relaxed with us and flowed out over
us and entwined themselves about us.
Splashing around in that hot water with my woman, I began
to get ideas, as they say. After a while I placed my body in
such a position in the water that the baby could not see my
hard-on.
I did this by going deeper and deeper in the water, like a
dinosaur, and letting the green slime and dead fish cover me
over.
My woman took the baby out of the water and gave her a
bottle and put her back in the car. The baby was tired. It was
really time for her to take a nap.
My woman took a blanket out of the car and covered up the
windows that faced the hot springs. She put the blanket ontop
of the car and then lay rocks on the blanket to hold it in place.
I remember her standing there by the car.
Then she came back to the water, and the deerflies were
at her, and then it was my turn. After a while she said, "I
don't have my diaphragm with me and besides it wouldn't
work in the water, anyway. I think it's a good idea if you
don't come inside me. What do you think?"
I thought this over and said all right. I didn't want any
more kids for a long time. The green slime and dead fish
were all about our bodies.
I remember a dead fish floated under her neck. I waited
for it to come up on the other side, and it came up on the
other side.
Worsewick was nothing fancy.
Then I came, and just cleared her in a split secondlike
an airplane in the movies, pulling out of a nosedive and sail-
ing over the roof of a school.
My sperm came out into the water, unaccustomed to the
light, and instantly it became a misty, stringy kind of thing
and swirled out like a falling star, and I saw a dead fishcome
forward and float into my sperm, bending it in the middle.
His eyes were stiff like iron.
poem by Richard Brautigan
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“flim Flam Man”
He was a “Flim flam man”
Cheated folks for a livin
In the town of Spokane
He took, 'stead of givin
One day came a drifter
A beautiful lady you see
A professional grifter
Born of gypsy ancestry
'Twas destined they’d meet
Flim flam man ‘n the Gypsy
To play out a game of deceit
After a few shots they got tipsy
He offered to pay for her drinks
Pulled out a round roll of money
A twenty covered one dollar bills
Said, “I’ll pick up the tab honey”
She smiled, “Oh, if you insist”
He gave barmaid a one for a twenty
An old scam he could not resist
“Keep the change, I’ve got plenty”
He asked Gypsy, “What do you do? ”
“back in Detroit I’m a Practical Nurse”
He said, “That’s great, good for you”
As he snuck his hand in her purse
Seeing what he’d done she turned red
Reached into her coat for a snub ‘38
Shot the poor “Flim flam man” dead
“Rot in Hell you sorry cheapskate! ”
She jumped off the barstool and ran
She’d escape with a small bit of luck
It was clear, she'd be leaving Spokane
She ran in the street ‘n was hit by a truck
Here's the moral, pardon my cliché
Truth be told, 'Crime just don't pay'
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
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Overflow
I don't need ritualistic liturgy
To know God lives inside of me
No holy water on my head
A rosary my fingers thread
He makes up every single ounce
Of my being
My heart overflows
And my voice wants to scream
Till I burst into tiny microscopic beams
Of light and fire and sparks
That gleam
Written by Sara Fielder © 2012
poem by Sara Fielder
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Aurelia
She hated going over to the old woman's house, but they told her she needed 'regular scheduling'. Check her blood sugar, make sure she's eating, and give her a bath. That was the hard part. She could never get the water temperature comfortable enough to suit the crazy bitch. Every minute or two she'd have to fiddle with the faucet adding hot and/ or cold water as she listened to her complain in silence. When it was over her uniform was soaked. She needed a another nurse to help her, but the case manager said Medicare wouldn't pay for it. 'They don't pay me enough to do this job' she thought right before the old woman let her in in through the front door, only to blasted back by the strong smell of urine and feces. The thermostat must have been set on 80 degrees even though it was already 85 outside which made it worse.
'How are you feeling today? ' she asked, trying to be polite.'Have you taken your medications? '
'Of course I‘ve taken them! ' the old woman snaps back adding 'Don't scold me! ' before she's even given the chance to check the pill planner to make sure. She knew she probably hadn't. The old woman couldn't even keep up with what day it was. Upon inspection, sure enough no pills had been taken since Sunday, and here it was Thursday. 'Can you tell me what day it is? ' she asks the old woman, muting the television. The number of decibels she always had it set on made her want to stick needles in her eyes. The old woman stubbornly ignores the question as usual, her powder blue eye shadow giving her a flashback of some 1970's B movie she might have seen. No matter…she'll give her a cup Jell-O and one of those Ensure thingy's that she keeps in the fridge so that she wont throw up her meds. She takes the pill crusher and begins to pulverize the blood pressure pill first, followed by the heart pill, and clozapine mixing it into the Jell-O and hoping it will disguise their taste. She sits down on the couch next to her to watch her eat trying to think of what to say when the old woman chimes up.
'What is this you are making me eat? It tastes awful! '
'Just a little cherry Jell-O that‘s all. I promise. Please try to finish it.'
'It's suppose to snow' the old woman says, 'you really should dress more warmly'.
'I will mom. I will.'
poem by Sara Fielder
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Great Grey Water
Now two have met, now two have met,
Who may not meet again—
Two grains of sand, two blades of grass,
Two threads within the skein—
Beside the Great Grey Water.
Two hands to touch, two hearts to touch;
And, here forgathered, we
Will not forget, may not forget,
Where last forgathered three—
Beyond the Great Grey Water.
Two glasses filled, two pipes to fill—
‘To all our fortunes, brother!’
And as they clink—like so—we drink
Fair passage to the other
Across the Great Grey Water.
For three have sailed, and one has sailed,
His sins, like ours, still on him,
God sleep his soul! five oceans roll
Their long weight all upon him.
O God! thy Great Grey Water!
But I am still, and you are still,
And here our chance has flung us;
True comrades we, but…there were three
And one is not among us
Beside the Great Grey Water.
A breathing space, a biding place,
Soft lights and beakers beaded,
Then out again and on again,
Unminded and unheeded,
Across the Great Grey Water.
Now two have met where three have met
With curses or with laughter;
And so our Day shall pass away,
And so our Night come after—
But, ah! the Great Grey Water
poem by Edwin James Brady
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Savior
if the saviour came again today,
Would you like him or turn him away,
would he have a girlfriend with a thong,
Or a boy group singing dumbass songs.
Would he be a rapper with a gun,
Or a bugger building steel buns.
If the saviour was crucified to lose
What's the difference ?
get me outta here
get me outta here
get me outta here
get me outta here
watch me walk on water
watch me walk on water
watch me walk on water
before they...
put me in a box
We should have never
Gotten another break,
Praying is an art for it's own sake,
Would he have a pair of Gucci shoes...
With a pitbull
get me outta here
get me outta here
get me outta here
get me outta here
watch me walk on water
watch me walk away on water
watch me walk on water
get me outta here
get me outta here
get me outta here
get me outta here
get me outta here
get me outta here
get me outta here
watch me walk on water
watch me walk away on water
watch me walk on water
song performed by by Iggy Pop
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Patrick
Back then, when life was green among the curly ferns
And it was happy as the height of crystal night
My brother was my younger treasure
And we would daily play
by climbing trees and building forts with skinly knees
We were milky soft
Our eyes, they shined
And there was no such thing as watching time
Written by Sara Fielder © 2012
poem by Sara Fielder
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Vision at Little Bighorn
I went to Little Bighorn
On a hot summer day,1987,
I wondered if the Seventh Cavalry
Was in hell or heaven -
Out there all alone
I came upon the old General's ghost wandering around,
He kept glancing far away
While staying close to the ground -
I'll never know for certain
If he saw me or not,
He just kept wringing his hands
As if he couldn't stop -
Upon the path where he paced
Blood dripped from his boots,
It soaked in deep and wide
Down to the prairie grass roots -
From way down in this hallowed ground
I heard the dead soldiers cries,
The agony of the lost
Who so long ago on this spot died -
No one else was there under the burning sun
This mysterious scene to see,
I observed it all
Alone, on the desolate, dry prairie -
I felt as if a visitor
Watching from another time,
Perhaps the heat had got to me
Or I'd simply lost my mind -
I tried
But I could not walk away,
I wanted to ask him 'Why? '...
Yet no words could I say -
I just stayed there
Hour upon hour,
Watching, listening... feeling it all...
As if in the grip of a strange power -
I swear I saw Sitting Bull
Riding swiftly toward me on a spotted horse,
I was knocked flat to the ground
By the passing force -
I looked up high
Into the blazing sun,
There I saw Warriors in victory dancing
Realizing full well their fight was done -
Still, I couldn't help to wonder
What of Custer? What was his fate?
Was he too far gone?
Was it, for him, way too late?
Suddenly I was brought back,
when out of nowhere an old medicine man appeared.
Looking into me, as if reading my thoughts, he said,
' Do not worry about Custer, he'll never speak another word.
Because out here all alone the General shall remain, forever dead. ' -
'As for the rest of us
We all must come to understand,
The time to live and work together
Is now at hand. '
Then he reached down and helped me up;
Together we walked the long path back;
Side by side, into the sunset,
We followed the same track. -
poem by Smoky Hoss
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Back Home
Don't know what I was looking for when I went home, I found me alone
And sometimes I need someone to say, "You'll be all right. What's on your mind?"
But the water's shallow here and I am full of fear, and empty handed after two long years
Another sunny day in Californ-i-a
I'm sure back home they'd love to see it
But they don't know that what you love is ripped away
Before you get a chance to feel it
Back home I always thought I wanted so much more, now I'm not too sure
Cause sometimes I miss knowing someone's there for me and feeling free
Free to stand beside the ocean in moonlight
And light myself a smoke beneath the dark Atlantic sky
Another sunny day in Californ-i-a
I'm sure back home they'd love to see it
But they don't know that what you love is ripped away
Before you get a chance, before you get a chance to feel it
Everybody here is living life in fear of falling out of line
Tearing lives apart and breaking lots of hearts just to pass the time
And the eyes get red in the back of your head, this place will make you blind
Put it all behind me and I'll be just fine
Another sunny day beneath this cloudless sky
Sometimes I wish that it would rain here
And wash away the west coast dreaming from my eyes
There's nothing real for them to see here
Another starry night in Californ-i-a
I'm sure back home they'd love to see it
But they don't know that what you love is ripped away
Before you get a chance, before you get a chance to feel it
song performed by by Yellowcard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Back Home
Don't know what I was looking for when I went home, I found me alone
And sometimes I need someone to say, "You'll be all right. What's on your mind?"
But the water's shallow here and I am full of fear, and empty handed after two long years
Another sunny day in Californ-i-a
I'm sure back home they'd love to see it
But they don't know that what you love is ripped away
Before you get a chance to feel it
Back home I always thought I wanted so much more, now I'm not too sure
Cause sometimes I miss knowing someone's there for me and feeling free
Free to stand beside the ocean in moonlight
And light myself a smoke beneath the dark Atlantic sky
Another sunny day in Californ-i-a
I'm sure back home they'd love to see it
But they don't know that what you love is ripped away
Before you get a chance, before you get a chance to feel it
Everybody here is living life in fear of falling out of line
Tearing lives apart and breaking lots of hearts just to pass the time
And the eyes get red in the back of your head, this place will make you blind
Put it all behind me and I'll be just fine
Another sunny day beneath this cloudless sky
Sometimes I wish that it would rain here
And wash away the west coast dreaming from my eyes
There's nothing real for them to see here
Another starry night in Californ-i-a
I'm sure back home they'd love to see it
But they don't know that what you love is ripped away
Before you get a chance, before you get a chance to feel it
song performed by by Yellowcard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Nonsense Alphabet
A was an ant
Who seldom stood still,
And who made a nice house
In the side of a hill.
Nice little ant!
B was a bat,
Who slept all the day,
And fluttered about
When the sun went away.
Brown little bat!
C was a camel:
You rode on his hump;
And if you fell off,
You came down such a bump!
What a high camel!
D was a duck
With spots on his back,
Who lived in the water,
And always said 'Quack!'
Dear little duck!
E was an elephant,
Stately and wise:
He had tusks and a trunk,
And two queer little eyes.
Oh, what funny small eyes!
F was a fish
Who was caught in a net;
But he got out again,
And is quite alive yet.
Lively young fish!
G was a goat
Who was spotted with brown:
When he did not lie still
He walked up and down.
Good little goat!
H was a hat
Which was all on one side;
Its crown was too high,
And its brim was too wide.
Oh, what a hat!
I was some ice
So white and so nice,
But which nobody tasted;
And so it was wasted.
All that good ice!
J was a jug,
So pretty and white,
With fresh water in it
At morning and night.
Nice little jug!
K was a kite
Which flew out of sight,
Above houses so high,
Quite into the sky.
Fly away, kite!
L was a lily,
So white and so sweet!
To see it and smell it
Was quite a nice treat.
Beautiful lily!
M was a man,
Who walked round and round;
And he wore a long coat
That came down to the ground.
Funny old man!
N was a net
Which was thrown In the sea
To catch fish for dinner
For you and for me.
Nice little net!
O was an orange
So yellow and round:
When it fell off the tree,
It fell down to the ground.
Down to the ground!
P was a polly.
All red, blue, and green,--
The most beautiful polly
That ever was seen.
Poor little polly!
Q was a quail
With a very short tail;
And he fed upon corn
In the evening and morn.
Quaint little quail!
R was a rabbit,
Who had a bad habit
Of eating the flowers
In gardens and bowers.
Naughty fat rabbit!
S was the sugar-tongs,
Nippity-nee,
To take up the sugar
To put in our tea.
Nippity-nee!
T was a tortoise,
All yellow and black:
He walked slowly away,
And he never came back.
Torty never came back!
U was an urn
All polished and bright,
And full of hot water
At noon and at night.
Useful old urn!
V was a veil
With a border upon it,
And a ribbon to tie it
All round a pink bonnet.
Pretty green veil!
W was a watch,
Where, in letters of gold,
The hour of the day
You might always behold.
Beautiful watch!
Y was a yew,
Which flourished and grew
By a quiet abode
Near the side of a road.
Dark little yew!
Z was a zebra,
All striped white and black;
And if he were tame,
You might ride on his back.
Pretty striped zebra!
poem by Edward Lear
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Intro/walk On Water
Here is the water
The one that rushes
From our hearts into the sea
Endlessly hoping to be
Here is the water
The one that rushes from our
Minds into the street
Endlessly hoping to meet
They said we could walk on water
They said we should knock on wood
We did none of these things and they said we could sing
So we sang about falling in love
They said that we were getting smarter
They said that we were something new
We were none of these things and they said we could sing
So we sang about twenty and two
We done all the wrong things
And all we done good
They said we were the new beginning
They said we were a brand new start
We were none of these thing and they said we could sing
So we sang about the state of the art
They said we were the second coming
They said we were a different breed
We were none of these things and they said we could sing
So we sang about the birds and the bees
Bunch of do nothing that were down on your knees
Can you walk on water
But can you walk on - w a t e r (oh no)
Can you walk on - w a t e r
Oh can you walk on water
They said we could walk on water
They said we should knock on wood
We did none of these things and they said we could sing
So we sang about falling in love
They say that we say we say something
They say that we say something new
We say some of these things and they say we can sing
So we sang about a hundred and two
But if nobody listens well nothing comes true
When you walk on water
When you walk on - w a t e r (oh no)
Can you walk on - w a t e r
Oh can you walk on water
Can you walk on - w a t e r (oh no)
Can you walk on - w a t e r
Oh can you walk on water
We never walked on - w a t e r
So tell me something smarter w a t e r
Matadors monkeys, a million balloons
As we walk through the sea to the sand
Knowing full well that were perfectly tuned
As we skip through our hearts hand in hand
Well jenny the older
Whose music we heard
Will we all meet again at the end of the world
No sense in fooling
Were covered in dreams
Having too much fun flying to land
Floating waste high in tendrils of green
Were so small but we feel oh so grand
Well jenny the older
Whose music we heard
Will we all meet again at the end of the world
End of the world
Well jenny the older
Whose music we heard
Will we all meet again at the end of the world
The end of the world
On tuesday
The end of the world
Pop goes the world
The end of the world
Pop goes the world
On tuesday
The end of the world
The real world
Pop goes the world
On tuesday
song performed by by Men Without Hats
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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0145 Chinese Landscape
The old pine tree
leans out from the rocks
over the still lake
with respect
though no-one guesses this
once a month
the pine tree is silhouetted
against the rising moon
though no-one knows this
its roots drink gratefully
from the generous water
though no-one sees this
its branches murmur to
the lapping lake-water as old friends
though no-one hears this
except you and I and the artist -
nature
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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