Welcome Sir!
It was a fascinating night
like albino children playing in park.
I was gazing at sky.
The years have gone by one by one.
I am still walking on dead leaves
refusing the fruits.
This was me, no urge, no need,
the leather worn out but
feet are intact.
A continous civil war among the windows
suffers the grace. Stupidities of house.
You collect the garbage whole life
and when time comes to depart,
make a bonfire of your winnings.
We are ageing like wall paper
and talking to doors. The guest
is coming at last.
poem by Satish Verma
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The Threshold Stone
WHEN I went to live in the little house,
That stands on the hilltop alone,
What touched me most of all
Was neither roof nor wall,
But the smooth, worn face of its old threshold stone.
For when I entered that little house,
With its four rooms cool in the heat,
And its windows clean and bright,
There it lay, new-washed and white,
With its tale of the coming and the going of feet.
Then I lost count of time in that little house,
And the world and its things all about,
And I hearkened there, alone,
To the footfalls on that stone,
Of the young coming in and the old going out.
And the folk that had dwelt in that little house,
They were mute, spectre-mute, at my side —
The young man, strong and bold,
And the grey man, wise and old,
And the little, pinched woman and the new-made bride.
Oh, often in haste to that little house
Came love in the night-time alone,
And dallied there a while,
With a little, wistful smile,
And with feather-weight feet on the old threshold stone.
And men hurried home to that little house
When the round of the daytime was o'er
With its worry, heat and noise,
And kissed their girls and boys,
And the patient little mothers that waited at the door.
Though I dwell now no more in that little house
That stands on the hilltop alone,
Yet this I got from it —
This human story writ
On the smooth, worn face of its old threshold stone.
Though they take stone from stone in that little house,
Making litter of all it has been.
Yet they shall not destroy
All the grief, all the joy,
All the youth, all the love that its threshold has seen.
poem by Roderic Quinn
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Reminiscing
Friday night it was late
I was walking you home
We got down to the gate
And I was dreaming of the night
Would it turn out right
How to tell you girl
I want to build my world around you
Tell you that it's true
I wanna make you understand
I'm talking about a life time plan
That's the way it began
We were hand in hand
Glen Miller's Band was better than before
We yelled and screamed for more
And the porter too
Made us dance across the room
It ended it all too soon
And on the way back home
I promise you, you'll never be alone
Hurry don't be late
I can hardly wait
I said to myself when we're old
We'll go dancing in the dark
Walking through the park and reminiscing
Friday night it was late
I was walking you home
We got down to the gate
And I was dreaming of the night
Would it turn out right
Now as the years roll on
Each time we hear our favorite song
The memories come along
Older times we're missing
Spending the hours reminiscing
Hurry don't be late
I can hardly wait
I said to myself when we're old
We'll go dancing in the dark
Walking through the park and reminiscing
We'll go dancing in the dark
Walking through the park and reminiscing
You should be dancing
Dancing
Dancing
Dancing
And reminiscing
song performed by by Barry Manilow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Selective memory
It is not about love, far from it,
It is not about us, we are already parted
It is not about the world that is too much
For me to think of and bear
You must remember, no not about the wedding ring
You pawned it, you must remember
This is not about our home, you ruined it
We do not think about the children
The court shall make the ruling, this is not about
My emotions, I have squandered them all
And you wasted all of them, I have thrown them
All to the garbage cans and the dogs are feeding on them
Do not forget, this is just an ordinary civil relation,
You owe me money, and I am here to simply collect them,
There is no need to complicate, there is none,
And here is the promissory note that you signed
Many, many years ago.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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House Without Windows
Pockris/tobias
Im gonna move into
A house without windows
So I wont see you walking by, walking by
With your new love
There in the darkness of
My house without windows
I will never see the stars that shine
Shine on you, and your new love
Id rather wonder through this endless night
Than to face the light of another lonely day
Knowing that you wont be there
There to share, these two arms ever again
Ill take all my broken dreams
And Ill take my broken heart
And from now on you will find me there
Crying there, trying to forget
In my house without windows
In my house without windows
And without love.
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In This House
in this house
where you've been
what you've seen
were the windows
in this house
where you've been
what you've seen
were the doors
in this house
where you've sat
what you ate
was your food
in this house
where you've sat
what you ate
was the word
in this house
where you stood
what you could
something say
in this house
you could open
windows doors clapping wings
in this house
you could open
soul that heaven upward sings
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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The Slavery of Irony
In the Slavery of Irony
Illegitimate Nouns arrive
and the wall of Other erects
its own wall against
sins covered up
in the pursuit
a better life, middle class
in a zero sum
Stockholm Syndrome Society
where crumbs eat the people
disguised as rats
where rats are seen as another race entirely
People Rats who live off the garbage of prosperity
in India, in China in Mexico
poverty so fierce
that whole generations
are buried in the holes in the garbage
covered over by still more prosperity-garbage coming in
for the rat people to eat and sell;
and when they wander away for even a day
the are fed to the ego of passerbys
who blame them for smelling bad.
This new feudalism is the progress of the 21st century
where we shall all be buried one day in our own garbage
and beneath that collapse that is sure to come.
Even as the Rat People revolt and show up at our doors
some will say 'just a minute, will you' I need to get myself a 'latte.'
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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House Of Four Doors
Walking thru that door
Outside we came
Nowhere at all
Perhaps the answers here
Not there anymore
Then in our hearts the light broke thru
A path lost for years is there in view
House of four doors
You'll be lost now forever
House of four doors
Rest of life's life forever.
House of four doors
You'll be lost now forever
House of four doors
Rest of life's life forever.
song performed by by Moody Blues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Princess Of New York
By the garbage cans the sits
In her hands she holds a plastic bag
She borrowed from the supermarket
Her eyes starring holes into the night
Open windows are her radio
Luxury for her backyard bed
She knows every story
Of all the gloom and glory
This city wrote through all the years
You cant miss her cause she is
Always talking to a mailbox
Whispering secrets right into
The darkness where you cant hear her
Speak or talk but believe me that she is
The princess of new york
Down 5th avenue she walks
Dragging her body round the block
Trying to collect her meal
The parking meters are her friends
For each one shes got a name
Hello eddie how are you today ?
song performed by by Fury In The Slaughterhouse
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Palace Of Exile
For seven years I dwelt
In the loose palace of exile,
Playing strange games
With the girls of the island.
Now I have come again
To the land of the fair, & the strong, & the wise.
Brothers & sisters of the pale forest
Children of night
Who among you will run with the hunt?
Now night arrives with her purple legion.
Retire now to your tents & to your dreams.
Tomorrow we enter the town of my birth.
I want to be ready.
The doors! the doors!
Were out of time, thank you very much. were out of time.
All right, weve got time for one more, lets do it one more time.
song performed by by Doors
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To a Pair of Blucher Boots
OLD acquaintance unforgotten,
Though you may be “ugly brutes”—
Though your leather’s cracked and rotten,
Worn-out pair of Blucher boots.
’Tis the richer man before you,
Dearer leathers grace his feet;
’Twas the better man that wore you
In the tramps through dust and heat!
Oft rebuffed by “super’s” snarling,
When I asked him for a “show”,
On that long tramp to the Darling
In the days of long ago;
Tell me, if you know it, whether,
As I sadly tramped away,
Bore I heavy on your leather,
Worn-out pair of Bluchers, say?
Though your leather’s cracked and rotten,
Though you may be ugly brutes,
I’ll preserve you unforgotten,
Worn-out pair of Blucher boots!
poem by Henry Lawson
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The Joy Of Their Laughter
The children are playing football in the park off of the street
The joy in their laughter it does sound so sweet
'Tis true youth is such a marvellous thing
Like the flowers of the fields that bloom lovely in Spring.
The joy of their laughter bring back memories to me
Of happy boyhood days of any cares free
In the Town park on Summer evenings we kicked the football
Such wonderful memories are good to recall
The years went so quickly and time did not wait
And I've grown grayer and slower and I'm putting on weight
The future belongs to the youth of today
Though they too will grow to learn that time quickly ticks away.
Some of those I went to school with now with the dead lay
And some are grand parents and their grand children play
The games they themselves played they run up and down
In pursuit of the football in the park by the Town.
As I walk to the bottle shop for to buy beer
The laughter of the children playing football I hear
Their best days approaching and mine in the past
But time keeps on ticking and nothing does last.
poem by Francis Duggan
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What's up, the world is changing!
What's up, the world is changing! Coming out from outside, what do I see. The people are sad not happy and losing there jobs. How can they pay there bills and rent, mortgage on there house if they do not have no jobs. The people use to have a smile on there face because they have money to pay there bills and other things that have to be paid to. What's up, the world is changing! Coming out from outside, what do I see. The children use to played outside in front of the doors and the children use to laught at each other by joking. The children use to go to the store by themselves without getting hit by a bullet. The children use to socialize with other children by playing. Now, the children is dieing, crying, and continue to fantasizing. What's up, the world is changing! Coming out from outside, what do I see. The children is looking for love cannot find love from there home so, they are looking for the right one to give them love. The children looking in the wrong places to found love. It will be too late to tell the children that the love isn't out there. The love is inside there hearts and can they flll it?
poem by Shattocha Evans
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You can buy reffer
You can buy reffer
In Civil Center Park
Across the street
From the state capital
In Denver.
The capital in the 80s
Was a cruising spot.
This is how bold
Gays can be
When they put
Their backs into it.
In matters of the wedding ring
Only the selfish
Will bring themselves to deny
What by love
Should be tied
An affirmation
Of the love
We hold
Need be bounded
By a band of gold.
In the park
Tower Grove
You can buy a boy
20 years old
This on the south side
Of my fair city St, Louis
You can cruise
Downtown Binghamton
At state St.
You can cruise
Playlinda Beach
On HYWY 406.
Or Montrose
Bird Park
In Chicago
And city hall
In Medford Mass.
I know where
The boys collect
The sperms of others.
I know my brothers
In the life
Who hunts
The bathrooms
Day and night.
poem by David E. Patton
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Black Thunder
black thunder/ broken pieces, tired eyes.
church bells silent ringing, crow feet scarred pillows.
small children walking, without tongues praying,
wagon wheels bogged down in sand.
black thunder/ second hand lives, worn out lies.
dead soldiers mournful singing, borrowed tomorrows.
blind mouths moving, talking without saying,
unlit rooms forged by fugitive hands.
black thunder/ pregnant women without faces.
waves lapping orphan feet, ships lost in the storm.
refugee stars lost in unmarked skies,
an old tree dying rotting on the ground.
black thunder/ families disappearing without traces.
trash blown deserted streets, old men waiting to be born.
molded crucifixes, covered with flies,
clouds chant scriptures without a sound.
(guns silent weeping,
angels prayerful sweeping.
dreams born dying, dreams unfolding,
looking without seeing, touching without holding.)
black thunder/ hungry barefoot ghosts whisper.
priests covered in blood, empty windows open.
tiny infinities wrapped in colored matchsticks,
nowhere standing lost by the road.
black thunder/ brothers burying virgin sisters.
dialogue without talking, homeless heroes smoking.
ants' prophecies well hidden, time worn bricks,
strangers huddled against the cold.
black thunder/ salvation starved borrowed clothes.
smoke charred walls, forever dripping to the floor.
flesh tokens paid, lifetimes yet unforgiven,
candles dressed in cemetery suits.
black thunder/ nobody cares, nobody knows.
horses stomping stalls, doors open to doors.
while the dead barter for the living,
with bayonets and religious boots....
black thunder!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Blow By Blow
Written by dave mason, john cesario, and mark holden.
Its always something
Or it aint nothing at all
Its feast or famine
Too hot or out in the cold
So here we stand
Alone together
Our backs against the wall
If my heart wasnt in it
I wouldnt be here at all
Blow by blow
Well its blow by blow
And here we go again
(here we go again)
Well its blow by blow
Coming off the ropes
And fighting for the hope in us all
Are you in my corner
Or playing both sides of the wall
So make a stand
Its now or never
Cause life is much too short
And if your heart isnt in it
You shouldnt be here at all
Blow by blow
Well its blow by blow
And here we go again
(here we go again)
Well its blow by blow
Blow by blow
Well its blow by blow
Im back on my feet again
(Im back on my feet again)
Well its blow by blow
I can almost see through the tears
And Ive got my pride
The dreams that Ive hidden for years
Just wont be denied
So here we stand
Alone together
Our backs against the wall
If my heart wasnt in it
I wouldnt be here at all
Blow by blow
Well its blow by blow
And here we go again
(here we go again)
Well its blow by blow
Blow by blow
Well its blow by blow
Im back on my feet again
(Im back on my feet again)
Well its blow by blow
song performed by by Fleetwood Mac
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Empty Nest
Our house this night is full of life,
both kids up in their rooms.
We're safe and warm from the harrowing storm
with its lightening streaks and booms.
Yet soon I know, both have to go,
to school, to work, to life.
Then this will be an empty nest
with just me and my wife.
How do birds feel, when, freshly fledged,
their young depart forever.
Do they sing more somberly
when the chicks are not together?
We're creatures of habit, like those birds
I see when we're in the park.
I'll catch myself gazing up the stairs
when both their rooms are dark.
poem by John F. McCullagh
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Dead Man Walking
Theres a pale horse coming
And Im going to ride it
Ill rise in the morning
My fate decided
Im a dead man walking
Im a dead man walking
In st james parish I was born and christened
Ive got my story mister
Aint no need for you to listen
Its just a dead man talking
Once I had a job I had a a girl
Between our dreams and actions lies this world
In the deep forest their blood and tears rushed over me
All I could feel was the drugs and the shotgun
And my fear up inside of me
Like a dead man talkin
neath the summer sky my eyes went black
Sister I wont ask for forgiveness
My sins are all I have
Now the clouds above my prisonmove slowly across the sky
Theres a new day
Coming and my dreams are full to-night
song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Susans House
Going over to susans house, walking south down baxter street
-nothing hiding behind this picket fence
Theres a crazy old woman smashing bottles on the sidewalk
Where her house burnt down two years ago
People say that back then she really wasnt that crazy
Going over to susans house
Going over to susans house
Shes gonna make it right
Down by the donut prince a fifteen year old boy lies on the sidewalk
With a bullet in his forehead
In a final act of indignity the paramedics take off all his clothes
For the whole world to see while they put him in the bag
Meanwhile and old couple argues inside the queen bee
The sick fluorescent light shimmering on their skin
Going over to susans house
Going over to susans house
I cant be alone tonight
Take a left down echo park, a kid asks do I want some crack
T.v. sets are spewing baywatch through the windows into black
Here comes a girl with long brown hair who cant be more than seventeen
She sucks on a red popsicle while she pushes a baby girl in a pink carriage
And Im thinking that must be her sister
That must be her sister, right?
They go into the 7-11 and I keep walking
Going over to susans house (repeat)
song performed by by Eels
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mom And Dad
These walls once knew the laughter
Of children happy and gay
Of mom and dad with humble thanks
To God who blessed them on their way
Then came the war, Johnnie had to go
I remember the tears we shed
And precious memories that lingered on
After news came the boy was dead
The rest of us left one by one
Until mom and dad were alone
They seemed to weather the time
As the years rolled on and on
The Angels came for mother's soul
It's been about three years ago
Then dad seemed to wither away
Until the Lord said he must go
Yes this old house is empty now
All her glory passed and gone
The shutters and doors are crumbling
As are walls once filled with song
But I shall never forget the raising
That came from mom and dad
They led us children to the Lord
When I was but a strip of a lad
I want to thank you again Lord
For mom and dads special care
They filled my life with love and joy
In this old house of yesteryear
poem by Louis H. Thompson
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House Of Four Doors, Part 2
Walking through that door,
Outside we came, nowhere at all.
Perhaps the answer's here, not there anymore?
Then in our hearts the light broke through,
A path lost for years is there in view.
House of four doors, you'll be lost now forever.
House of four doors, pass up life, lives forever
song performed by by Moody Blues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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