The Daughter Goes To Camp
In the taxi alone, home from the airport,
I could not believe you were gone. My palm kept
creeping over the smooth plastic
to find your strong meaty little hand and
squeeze it, find your narrow thigh in the
noble ribbing of the corduroy,
straight and regular as anything in nature, to
find the slack cool cheek of a
child in the heat of a summer morning—
nothing, nothing, waves of bawling
hitting me in hot flashes like some
change of life, some boiling wave
rising in me toward your body, toward
where it should have been on the seat, your
brow curved like a cereal bowl, your
eyes dark with massed crystals like the
magnified scales of a butterfly's wing, the
delicate feelers of your limp hair,
floods of blood rising in my face as I
tried to reassemble the hot
gritty molecules in the car, to
make you appear like a holograph
on the back seat, pull you out of nothing
as I once did—but you were really gone,
the cab glossy as a slit caul out of
which you had slipped, the air glittering
electric with escape as it does in the room at a birth.
Anonymous submission.
poem by Sharon Olds
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Related quotes
1954
Then dirt scared me, because of the dirt
he had put on her face. And her training bra
scared me—the newspapers, morning and evening,
kept saying it, training bra,
as if the cups of it had been calling
the breasts up—he buried her in it,
perhaps he had never bothered to take it
off. They found her underpants
in a garbage can. And I feared the word
eczema, like my acne and like
the X in the paper which marked her body,
as if he had killed her for not being flawless.
I feared his name, Burton Abbott,
the first name that was a last name,
as if he were not someone specific.
It was nothing one could learn from his face.
His face was dull and ordinary,
it took away what I’d thought I could count on
about evil. He looked thin and lonely,
it was horrifying, he looked almost humble.
I felt awe that dirt was so impersonal,
and pity for the training bra,
pity and terror of eczema.
And I could not sit on my mother’s electric
blanket anymore, I began to have a
fear of electricity—
the good people, the parents, were going to
fry him to death. This was what
his parents had been telling us:
Burton Abbott, Burton Abbott,
death to the person, death to the home planet.
The worst thing was to think of her,
of what it had been to be her, alive,
to be walked, alive, into that cabin,
to look into those eyes, and see the human
Anonymous submission.
poem by Sharon Olds
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Crab
When I eat crab, slide the rosy
rubbery claw across my tongue
I think of my mother. She'd drive down
to the edge of the Bay, tiny woman in a
huge car, she'd ask the crab-man to
crack it for her. She'd stand and wait as the
pliers broke those chalky homes, wild-
red and knobby, those cartilage wrists, the
thin orange roof of the back.
I'd come home, and find her at the table
crisply unhousing the parts, laying the
fierce shell on one side, the
soft body on the other. She gave us
lots, because we loved it so much,
so there was always enough, a mound of crab like a
cross between breast-milk and meat. The back
even had the shape of a perfect
ruined breast, upright flakes
white as the flesh of a chrysanthemum, but the
best part was the claw, she'd slide it
out so slowly the tip was unbroken,
scarlet bulb of the feeler—it was such a
kick to easily eat that weapon,
wreck its delicate hooked pulp between
palate and tongue. She loved to feed us
and all she gave us was fresh, she was willing to
grasp shell, membrane, stem, to go
close to dirt and salt to feed us,
the way she had gone near our father himself
to give us life. I look back and
see us dripping at the table, feeding, her
row of pink eaters, the platter of flawless
limp claws, I look back further and
see her in the kitchen, shelling flesh, her
small hands curled—she is like a
fish-hawk, wild, tearing the meat
deftly, living out her life of fear and desire.
Anonymous submission.
poem by Sharon Olds
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How Much Fun
(robert palmer)
You make me feel like I dont need another
Come on baby lets pull back the covers
And do our best to help one another
Find out how much fun we can get into life
You got me scorched where Id forgotten there was fire
You got me foxed and you know I aint a liar
Come on baby, help me try and
Find out how much fun we can get into life
Sit back, relax, weve got all night
Feel the groove, nice and smooth
Lets get it right
? ? ? ? ? ?
I know the place lets go, come on lets fly
You make me feel like I dont need another
Come on baby lets pull back the covers
And do our best to help one another
Find out how much fun we can get into life
You got me higher than Ive been since I started
Couldnt want you more if I tried any harder
We could fall in love ? ? ? ?
Find out how much fun we could get into life
We got whats what
Lets make it work
Feel the beat in your seat
Dont make it jerk
Settle down, look around, there aint no rush
Theres a whole load of possibilities,
Just the two of us
You make me feel like I dont need another
Come on baby lets pull back the covers
And do our best to help one another
Find out how much fun we can get into life
Find out how much fun we can get into life
Find out how much fun we can get into life
Find out how much fun we can get into life
Find out how much fun we can get into life
Find out how much fun we can get into life
Find out how much fun we can get into life
song performed by by Robert Palmer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Sash
The first ones were attached to my dress
at the waist, one on either side,
right at the point where hands could clasp you and
pick you up, as if you were a hot
squeeze bottle of tree syrup, and the
sashes that emerged like axil buds from the
angles of the waist were used to play horses, that
racing across the cement while someone
held your reins and you could feel your flesh
itself in your body wildly streaming.
You would come home, a torn-off sash
dangling from either hand, a snake-charmer—
each time, she sewed them back on with
thicker thread, until the seams of
sash and dress bulged like little
knots of gristle at your waist as you walked, you could
feel them like thumbs pressing into your body.
The next sash was the one Thee, Hannah!
borrowed from her be-ribboned friend
and hid in a drawer and got salve on it,
salve on a sash, like bacon grease on a snake,
God's lard on the ribbon a Quaker girl
should not want, Satan's jism on
silk delicate as the skin of a young girl's genital.
When Hannah gave up satin her father
told her she was beautiful
just as God made her. But all sashes
lead to the sash, very sash of
very sash, begotten, not made, that my
aunt sent from Switzerland—
cobalt ripple of Swiss cotton with
clean boys and girls dancing on it.
I don't know why my mother chose it to
tie me to the chair with, her eye just
fell on it, but the whole day I
felt those blue children dance
around my wrists. Later someone
told me they had found out
the universe is a kind of strip that
twists around and joins itself, and I believe it,
sometimes I can feel it, the way we are
pouring slowly toward a curve and around it
through something dark and soft, and we are bound to
each other.
Anonymous submission.
poem by Sharon Olds
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Heat Wave
Were having a heat wave,
A tropical heat wave,
The temperatures rising,
It isnt surprising,
She certainly can can-can.
She started a heat wave
By letting her seat wave
In such a way that
The customers say that
She certainly can can-can.
Gee, her anatomy
Makes the mercury
Jump to ninety-three.
Were having a heat wave,
A tropical heat wave,
The way that she moves
That thermometer proves
That she certainly can can-can.
song performed by by Ella Fitzgerald
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Heat Wave
Were having a heat wave,
A tropical heat wave,
The temperatures rising,
It isnt surprising,
She certainly can can-can.
She started a heat wave
By letting her seat wave
In such a way that
The customers say that
She certainly can can-can.
Gee, her anatomy
Makes the mercury
Jump to ninety-three.
Were having a heat wave,
A tropical heat wave,
The way that she moves
That thermometer proves
That she certainly can can-can.
song performed by by Irving Berlin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bubble Pop Electric
I'm empty, I need fulfilling, yes I do love
To the ceiling, when I do love
I get this feeling when I'm in love
I'm restless, can't you see I try my bestest
To be good girl, because it's just us
So take me now and do me justice
I'm waiting patiently
Anticipating your arrival
And I'm hating
It takes so long to get to my house
To take me out
Tonight, I'm gonna give you all my love in the back seat
Bubble pop electric, bubble pop electric
Gonna speed it down and slow it up in the back seat
Bubble pop electric
Uh-oh, in the back seat
Ok now, I understand he's on his way now
But jeez Louise, I mean today now
I can't wait, I wanna play now
I'm antsy
Bubble pop electric pansies
My sweet tooth, I want your candy
The Queen of Eng would say it randy
I'm itchy
I wish you would come and scratch me
Tonight I'm falling, won't you catch me
Swoop on by, so you can snatch me
And take me out
Tonight, I'm gonna give you all my love in the back seat
Bubble pop electric, bubble pop electric
Gonna speed it down and slow it up in the back seat
Bubble pop electric
Uh-oh, in the back seat
The need to be satisfied
Come pick me up, I want a ride
Hurry, hurry, come to me
Drive in movie
Drive in, move me
Drive into me
Bubble pop electric
You've gotta get it
(Straight to me, drive in movie)
Take it to the back seat
Run it like a track meet
(Come to me, drive in movie)
[2x]
Tonight, I'm gonna give you all my love in the back seat
Bubble pop electric, bubble pop electric
Gonna speed it down and slow it up in the back seat
Bubble pop electric
Uh-oh, in the back seat
[2x]
song performed by by Gwen Stefani
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Tiny Fellow Traveller
An insect shaped like a butterfly
Not really willing to die
For he feared to be flown
By the wind that was being blown
In the train I was travelling by
Which was passing through low and high
Leaving barren and tilled landscapes behind
And moving regularly ahead towards its goal to find;
The insect was too small
Trying his best to creep on a wall
Of flesh and blood which was of my
No other than but left thigh
On which he was creeping
To find a shelter or something
To be safe against the blowing wind
This he decided in his mind;
His wings blotted black and white
For me it's a fine sight
I was infatuated by the scene
And everything else was to me unscene
He still lay on my thigh
As if trying to be safer
But the wind was not getting slower
Nor did he pass anywhere by;
Meanwhile, the rain started
And even closer to me he shifted
I spread my palm on his body
To avoid wind and rain drops
When the rain and the wind ceased
And my train at its goal reached
He slipped somewhere away
Bidding me no thanks nor good bye.
poem by Indresh Kumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Letters! all dead paper. . . (Sonnet XXVIII)
My letters! all dead paper, mute and white!
And yet they seem alive and quivering
Against my tremulous hands which loose the string
And let them drop down on my knee tonight.
This said—he wished to have me in his sight
Once, as a friend: this fixed a day in spring
To come and touch my hand. . . a simple thing,
Yes I wept for it—this . . . the paper's light. . .
Said, Dear, I love thee; and I sank and quailed
As if God's future thundered on my past.
This said, I am thine—and so its ink has paled
With lying at my heart that beat too fast.
And this . . . 0 Love, thy words have ill availed
If, what this said, I dared repeat at last!
poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
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The Borders
To say that she came into me,
from another world, is not true.
Nothing comes into the universe
and nothing leaves it.
My mother—I mean my daughter did not
enter me. She began to exist
inside me—she appeared within me.
And my mother did not enter me.
When she lay down, to pray, on me,
she was always ferociously courteous,
fastidious with Puritan fastidiousness,
but the barrier of my skin failed, the barrier of my
body fell, the barrier of my spirit.
She aroused and magnetized my skin, I wanted
ardently to please her, I would say to her
what she wanted to hear, as if I were hers.
I served her willingly, and then
became very much like her, fiercely
out for myself.
When my daughter was in me, I felt I had
a soul in me. But it was born with her.
But when she cried, one night, such pure crying,
I said I will take care of you, I will
put you first. I will not ever
have a daughter the way she had me,
I will not ever swim in you
the way my mother swam in me and I
felt myself swum in. I will never know anyone
again the way I knew my mother,
the gates of the human fallen.
Anonymous submission.
poem by Sharon Olds
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Permanent Waves
Please call a doctor, Ive been so depressed
That I think that Im finally breakin
I cant quite explain, I cant feel any pain
But I know that this time Im not fakin
Oh, what can it be, oh, inside of me
I saw my doctor he said man you look sick
He said I think you better do something quick
He checked me over and he said I was fit
What you need is a change, have a shave, find a chic
Your body functions, but your hairs a disgrace
You shouldnt let it hang all over your face
Change your image cos you look out of place
Comb your hair, put on weight, try to look up to date
Why dont you put in some permanent waves
Youll look smooth youll look cool, youll be laughing
Youll get lots of dates, youll be made youll get laid
Youll get out and about, youll be laughing
Oh, youll be o.k. once you get those permanent waves,
I was really up but now Im down once again
I went out walking and it started to rain
My perm washed out it just got flushed down the drain
My neurosis returned, Im a wreck once again
But wait til I get back my permanent waves
Ill be cool, Ill be smooth, Ill be laughing
Ill be all the rage with my permanent waves
And Ill start a new craze, Ill be laughing
Oh, Ill be o.k. once I get my permanent waves
Start a new craze, permanent waves
Ill be all the rage, my permanent waves
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Mortal One
Three months after he lies dead, that
long yellow narrow body,
not like Christ but like one of his saints,
the naked ones in the paintings whose bodies are
done in gilt, all knees and raw ribs,
the ones who died of nettles, bile, the
one who died roasted over a slow fire—
three months later I take the pot of
tulip bulbs out of the closet
and set it on the table and take off the foil hood.
The shoots stand up like young green pencils,
and there in the room is the comfortable smell of rot,
the bulb that did not make it, marked with
ridges like an elephant's notched foot,
I walk down the hall as if I were moving through the
long stem of the tulip toward the closed sheath.
In the kitchen I throw a palmful of peppercorns into the
saucepan
as if I would grow a black tree from the soup,
I throw out the rotten chicken part,
glad again that we burned my father
before one single bloom of mold could
grow up
out of him,
maybe it had begun in his bowels but we burned his
bowels
the way you burn the long blue
scarf of the dead, and all their clothing,
cleansing with fire. How fast time goes
now that I'm happy, now that I know how to
think of his dead body every day
without shock, almost without grief,
to take it into each part of the day the
way a loom parts the vertical threads,
half to the left half to the right like the Red Sea and you
throw the shuttle through with the warp-thread
attached to the feet, that small gold figure of my father—
how often I saw him in paintings and did not know him,
the tiny naked dead one in the corner,
the mortal one.
Anonymous submission.
poem by Sharon Olds
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Brave Face
My brave face.
Ive been living in style
Unaccustomed as I am to the luxury life.
Ive been hitting the town and it didnt hit back.
Ive been doing the rounds
Unaccustomed as I am to the time on my hands.
Now I dont have to tell anybody when Im gonna get back.
Ever since you went away Ive had this sentimental
Inclination not to change a single thing.
As I pull the sheets back on the bed I want to go bury my head
In your pillow.
Chorus:
Now that Im alone again, I cant stop breaking down again,
The simplest things set me off again
And take me to that place
Where I cant find my brave face
Where I cant find my brave face
My brave, my brave, my brave face.
Ive been living a lie
Unaccustomed as I am
To the work of a housewife,
Ive been breaking up
Dirty dishes and throwing them away.
Ever since you left I have been trying to
Compose a baby will you please come home note
Meant for you.
As I clear away another
Untouched tv dinner
From the table I laid for two.
Now that Im alone again
I cant stop breaking down again,
The simplest things set me off again
And take me to that place
Where I cant find my brave face,
Where I cant find my brave face,
My brave, my brave, my brave face.
My brave face.
song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Day In Day Out
in the morning you work
the work is dull till you see her
with hair as golden as the sun
a face that only compairs to the gods
the day gose quickly and you go home
though you only think of her
the worker known as the boss
you see her in the dark and
in the light but you are sleeping
next to your wife
the next day you go to work
though you find know one
that has a face that more
gorgeous as a god
or hair as golden as the sun
insted you find that the goddess
with the hair as golden as the sun
the face that makes even the god jelouse
never egsisted but in your mind
though when you get home
your eye go as wide as tho sun
when you see the face that make god jelouse
is the one that you married shes your wife
so you see her every night with flower in hand
for the ladie with the golden hair
poem by Daniel Thompson
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Butterfly
Little butterfly come back to me
Everything that I want written on your face
I want it, I want it
I want it, I want it
So take me where you want to
Its your love that I chase
I want it, I want it
I want it, I want it
Now you got something
I want it, I want it
So beautiful
I want it, I want it
And the way you move me baby
Its like no other girl
I want it, I want it
I want it, I want it
Butterfly that came and butterfly in june
So colour in my wings
And let me hold your hand
I could be the sun and you could be my moon
But all you ever say is catch me if you can
Feel like a butterfly
Searching in the summer sky
A perfect love so hard to find
Little butterfly come back to me
Honey you pushing a condition
But I dont mind
I want it, I want it
I want it, I want it
I think youre my addiction
But thats alright
I want it, I want it
Thats alright
I want it, I want it
Youve got to slow down
I cant keep up with you
I want it, I want it
No no no all the other butterflies
They dont love like we do
I want it, I want it
I want it, I want it
I feel like Im a butterfly in june
So colour in my wings and let me hold your hand
I could be the sun and you could be my moon
But all you ever say is catch me if you can
Feels like a butterfly
Searching in the summer sky
A perfect love so hard to find
Little butterfly come back to me
Little butterfly come back to me
Little butterfly come back to me
Little butterfly come back to me
song performed by by Jamiroquai
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Brave Face
(mccartney/macmanus)
My brave, my brave, my brave face
Ive been living in style
Unaccustomed as I am
To the luxury life
Ive been hitting the town
And it didnt hit back
Ive been doing the rounds
Unaccustomed as I am
To the time on my hands
Now I dont have to tell anybody
When Im gonna get back
Ever since you went away Ive had the sentimental inclination not to change a single thing
As I pull the sheet back on the bed I want to go bury my head in your pillow
Now that Im alone again
I cant stop breaking down again
The simplest things set me off again
Take me to that place
Where I can find my brave face
Where I can find my brave face
My brave, my brave, my brave face
Ive been living a lie
Unaccustomed as I am
To the work of a housewife
I been breaking up dirty dishes
And been throwing them away
Ever since you left I have been trying to compose a baby, would you please come home note meant for you
As I clear away another untouched tv dinner from the table I made for two
Now that Im alone again
I cant stop breaking down again
The simplest things set me off again
Take me to that place
Where I can find my brave face
Where I can find my brave face
My brave, my brave, my brave face
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Stargazer
High noon
Oh Id sell my soul for water
Nine years worth
Of breakin my back
Theres no sun in the shadow of the wizard
See how he glides
Why hes lighter than air
Oh I see his face
Where is your star
Is it far, is it far, is it far
When do we leave
I believe, yes, I believe
* in the heat and the rain
With whips and chains
Just to see him fly
So many die
We built a tower of stone
With out flesh and bone
Just to see him fly
Dont know why
Now where do we go
Hot wind moving fast across the desert
We feel that our time has arrived
The world spins while we put his wing together
A tower of stone to take him straight to the sky
Oh I see his face
Where is your star
It is far, is it far, is it far
When do we leave, yeah
I believe, I believe
*
All eyes see the figure of the wizard
As he climbs to the top of the world
No sound as he falls instead of rising
Time standing still
Then theres blood on the sand
Oh I see his face
Where was your star
Was it far, was it far
When did we leave
We believe, we believe, we believe
In the heat and rain
With whips and chains
To see him fly
So many die
We built a tower of stone
With out flesh and bone
To see him fly
But why, it dont rain
With all our chains,
Did so many die
Just to see him fly
Look at my flesh and bone
Now look, look, look, look
Look at this tower of stone
I see a rainbow rising
Look there on the horizon
And Im coming home
Coming home, Im coming home
Time is standing still
He gave me back my will
Oh, oh, oh, oh
Going home
Im going home
My eyes are bleeding
And my heart is weeping
We still hope, we still hope, oh
Take me back
He gave me back my will
Oh, oh, oh, oh
Going home
Im going home
My eyes are bleeding
And my heart is weeping
We still hope, we still hope, oh
Take me back, take me back
Back to my home, oh, oh...
song performed by by Rainbow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Objects In The Rear View Mirror May Appear Closer Than They Are
Objects in the rear view mirror may appear closer than they are
The skies were pure and the fields were green
And the sun was brighter than its ever been
When I grew up with my best friend kenny
We were close as any brothers than you ever knew
It was always summer and the future called
We were ready for adventures and we wanted them all
And there was so much left to dream and so much time to make it real
But I can still recall the sting of all the tears when he was gone
They said he crashed and burned
I know Ill never learn why any boy should die so young
We were racing, we were soldiers of fortune
We got in trouble but we sure got around
There are times I think I see him peeling out of the dark
I think hes right behind me now and hes gaining ground
But it was long ago and it was far away, oh God it seems so very far
And if life is just a highway, then the soul is just a car
And objects in the rear view mirror may appear closer than they are
And objects in the rear view mirror may appear closer than they are
And when the sun descended and the night arose
I heard my father cursing everyone he knows
He was dangerous and drunk and defeated
And corroded by failure and envy and hate
There were endless winters and the dreams would freeze
Nowhere to hide and no leaves on the trees
And my fathers eyes were blank as he hit me again and again and again
I know I still believe hed never let me leave, I had to run away alone
So many threats and fears, so many wasted years before my life became
My own
And though the nightmares should be over
Some of the terrors are still intact
Ill hear that ugly coarse and violent voice
And then he grabs me from behind and then he pulls me back
There was a beauty living on the edge of town
And she always put the top up and the hammer down
And she taught me everything Ill ever know
About the mystery and the muscle of love
The stars would glimmer and the moon would glow
Im in the back seat with my julie like a romeo
And the signs along the highway all said, caution! kids at play!
Those were the rights of spring and we did everything
There was salvation every night
We got our dreams reborn and our upholstery torn
But everything we tried was right
She used her body just like a bandage
She used my body just like a wound
Ill probably never know where she disappeared
But I can see her rising up out of the back seat now
Just like an angel rising up from a tomb
And objects in the rear view mirror may appear closer than they are
And objects in the rear view mirror may appear closer than they are
She used her body just like a bandage
She used my body just like a wound
Ill probably never know where she disappeared
But I can see her rising up out of the back seat now
song performed by by Meat Loaf
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Looking Up
Looking up, again
Im coming back to life
Im coming back to life
Looking up, to you
If was really up to you
You had to pull me through
Looking up
Looking up, a change is
Coming over me
I know now that Im free
Looking up, I find
Im walking tall and proud
And happy all the time
Looking up
Im looking up
Looking up
I see my troubles far behind
Looking up
(Im looking up)
Looking up
I feel Im rising to the top
Looking up
Looking up, a change is
Coming over me
I know now that Im free
Looking up, I find
Im walking tall and proud
And happy all the time
Looking up
Im looking up
Looking up
I see my troubles far behind
Looking up
(Im looking up)
Looking up
I feel Im rising to the top
Looking up
Someone that understands
Is there until the end
To hold the light for me
The light that help me see
And in my darkest hours
Will come with sunny showers
To help me to forget
Oh I so glad we met
And since that rainy day
The clouds just stay away
You chase them with your love
The greatest love Ive known
cause in the darkest hour
You come with sunny showers
My life is your today
Dont ever go away
Looking up
Im looking up
I see my trouble far behind
Looking up
(Im looking up)
Looking up
I feel Im rising to the top...
song performed by by Donna Summer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The New Theory
A butterfly's wing
moving gracefully
in a still Asian dawn
works up a storm
that beats the hell
out of us in Pennsylvania.
I used to think it was
a woman somewhere
on he other side of the world,
turning, maybe, in her sleep,
or tossing the hair
from her face with a soft flip,
that has wakened me
on this lonely dark night,
not a sound, not a glint
of light out the window,
and no air at all
on this night when I need
air, even if only
what comes of a butterfly
passing, or a woman
turning, or tossing her hair.
Anonymous submission.
poem by Louis McKee
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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