Death at Home
I entered the silent house
and saw my sister in the kitchen,
brooding over tepid dishwater, sipping beer,
slipping away from her pain,
as her sons, in the dusky back room,
door ajar, stroked his hair and gazed
in wonder at this spent, peaceful man,
and there I saw it,
the detritus of cancer,
spent oxygen bottles, bedpans,
unused morphine patches,
and there I felt it,
his quietus
filling the room,
thick, cutting, invisible
insistent.
So silently I took my nephews
back to the kitchen
and together we wondered
at how 64 years of living ends
on a gurney,
in a shrouded bag,
rolling roughly past your rosebushes,
past your silent truck,
past your whimpering dog,
to a plain,
white
van.
poem by Steven Federle
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Do Not Resuscitate
Saturated in morphine
breathing like a hurt animal
maybe somewhere deep down
at the bottom of the mineshaft
a little light was flickering.
We spoke to her, sometimes loudly,
We held her hand and felt its warmth
We stroked her hair.
We expected the end in hours or a day,
More morphine and more wild animal rasping
on into the morning and the next morning.
Work days are missed, meetings postponed,
return flights canceled, everyone thinking
please hurry up, and feeling guilty for it,
asking the doctor how long now, and
how could her oxygen level be going back up.
More morphine and more animal breathing.
Just as she lived her life
she would die on her own terms, by God,
and screw us and our goddam schedules.
Sitting at her bedside, I realized
that someone who could be so infuriating in life
was now infuriating us with her death.
My sister looked over and wondered
what I was laughing about
poem by Michael Philips
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The White Room
(SpringfieldVallance)
I can see her at her windows watching,
locked away inside her skin,
I can see her but I can't get to her, she won't come out,
and she won't let me into
The white room (she's living in)
Lying alone til she comes undone
In the white room, she burns for the real thing.
But it won't come.
In her head is the same obsession
and all the bottles and pills won't heal her heart.
She heard his last confession
and every word just tears her apart
In the white room (locked away)
doing time till her time is done
In the white room there's so much to say
but the words won't come.
Come back to the land of the living,
when you gonna break the chain,
there's so much too much that you're leaving
and you're never gonna stop the rain
In the white room.
waiting for the call that never comes
in the white room, she awaits.
Look at something long enough you'll find,
that the splinters and the cracks begin to show,
I'll be the first in line when the walls start falling
and she lets go of
The white room (it's late)
living alone only makes you numb
In the white room she burns for the real thing
but it won't come
In the white room (she's living in) I think its time
that you're time is done,
In the white room she burns
In the white room (it's late)
lying alone till she comes undone
In the white room she awaits
In the white room
song performed by by Rick Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sex In The Kitchen (remix)
Girl, you're in the kitchen
Cooking me a meal
Something makes me wanna come in there and get a feel
Walk around in your t-shirt
Nothing else on
Strutting past, switching that ass while I'm on the phone
Cutting up tomatoes, fruits and vegetables and potatoes
Girl, you look so sexy while you're doing the damn thang that
I want
Sex in the kitchen, over by the stove
Put you on the counter by the buttered rolls
Hands on the table, on your tippy toes
We'll be making love like the restaurant was closed
How would you like it, baby
(would you like that)
Tell me right now, pretty baby
Hey man, I'm gon' call you back
Girl, you're in the kitchen, chillin' in your robe
I'm saying to myself, "She better go put on some clothes"
Tickling and teasing, doing that little dance
Girl, you gon' make me lay you down
And give it to you one mo 'gain
[chorus 2x]
Girl, I'm ready to toss your salad
While I'm making love, I'll be feasting
Girl, you're in the kitchen
Sweating up a storm
The oven's on five hundred
So you know the kitchen's warm
Girl, you know just how to get into a brother's mind
Cause here we are still in this kitchen
Doing it for the third time
[chorus till fade]
song performed by by R. Kelly
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Drizzle feeling
wish I could turn the time
once again back to the past
with you, I want to meet again
silent and lonely
replayed again silent record
for while, past become present
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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The Mother Of Babies!
The society has retired and placed me in front of Television,
What I have, is the memory of the working life, glory and pain,
The spouse of mine reminds me of the shrunken apple,
The hazing sight, dreamy eyes that look to the doors knobs,
All of a sudden she has got up at the arrival of the kids',
Drives to the market to pick up the best for their favorite dish,
The giggling and laughing from the kitchen echo,
through otherwise silent and abundant ‘walls and curtains',
The moving of glasses, plates, bowls and happy minds,
The opening and closing of micro wave oven of,
Past year's stories to the updat of the current events,
The baking of sweet fragrant vanilla cakes and pies,
The mother and the children at the kitchen, living room,
Prayer room and even in their bed rooms,
I, as usual mind my business of tending of garden and the home,
The house becomes quiet again, when the working children leave,
When I ask my suddenly bloomed wife of two days,
To bring a glass of water, she turns and looks at me,
Oh! that shrunken apple! She tells she is too tired,
Oh! My children! Please tell me the secrets with no frills,
What do you have to make my wife so happy and thrilled?
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Just A Song
Oh, to get ahead in this world
Takes a lot of kind words
The ruthless damning actions
And I hope, I never have to hurt you
Though I gladly will do
My friend
And I'll be reading in the kitchen
Sipping lazy cups of tea
I won't be brooding in my bedroom
With the shutters down on me
And this song is not cathartic
Because I've done nothing wrong
It's just a song
It's just a song
Oh, you see the more you're trying
The more I know you're lying
The more I start to hate the sight of you
Tell me what would you do?
Pulled by both arms, nearly torn in two
I'll be reading in the kitchen
Sipping lazy cups of tea
I won't be brooding in my bedroom
With the covers over me
And this song is not cathartic
Because I've done nothing wrong
It's just a song
It's just a song
And I'll be reading in the kitchen
Sipping lazy cups of tea
I won't be brooding in my bedroom
With the shutters down on me
And this song is not cathartic
Because I've done nothing wrong
It's just a song
It's just a song
It's just a song
It's just a song
song performed by by Ordinary Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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But our waking life, and our growing years, were for the most part spent in the kitchen, and until we married, or ran away, it was the common room we shared.
quote by Laurie Lee
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Time My Past My Future! ! !
Time My Past My Future
The time is racing my past behind me
NO!
My past in front,
My future behind,
I wasn't thinking of my future,
I was back in my past.
But now this is my story! ! ! !
A mother who did not love me,
A sister a brother trying to comfort me,
I felt all alone
Now inhale
and
Exhale.
My future
A mother, A brother, once upon a time a father,
But no more
I stride for my future,
Not for my past
I tell you children
NEVER Look Back! ! !
But i do wondering......
I f my past was different would my future be better?
Would it?
Never mind that,
The time is racing to my future
I live for today and NOT tomarrow.
So I Never Look Back.
poem by Chauntae Ridley
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Words
Can you feel it when
Your throat dries?
Can you see it in the night sky?
Just a mumble round at tea time
Smile
When Im watching you
When I was a child
We were living in fear
Living in fear
When I was a child
Just a light year from here
Living in fear
Worlds may shatter
Years dont matter
Words came back to haunt you
Worlds may shatter
Years dont matter
Words came back to haunt you
Friends past missing
Reminiscing
Words came back to haunt you
Tolerating propaganda
And your girlfriend, alexandra
With her secret memoranda
Signs
For an interview
Searching for the light
In the world of the blahs
Masquerading as stars
How can this be right?
Youve been going too far
Leaving conscience ajar
Worlds may shatter
Years dont matter
Words came back to haunt you
Friends past missing
Reminiscing
Words came back to haunt you
When I was a child
We were living in fear
Living in fear
Worlds may shatter
Years dont matter
Words came back to haunt you
Worlds may shatter
Years dont matter
Words came back to haunt you
Friends past missing
Reminiscing
Words came back to haunt you
Worlds may shatter
Years dont matter
Words came back to haunt you
Friends past missing
Reminiscing
Words came back to haunt you
song performed by by Human League
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The drug party
Four drugged kids were naked in the room
and had removed
every piece of clothing from their bodies.
Sweet sour with a smell
that is almost like khaki-weed,
their marijuana zol’s smell went right through the house.
When I stood at the front door
every thing in the house was ungodly and deadly silent,
as if I walked into a place were the spirit of man can die.
I opened the room door slowly
and there was no innocence to be seen
and only children that were naked on their knees
almost praying,
around that bottle point zol sitting staring
and the stench was more repulsive
than that of vomit or liquor.
Pain went right through my soul
to see children
throwing their lives away like this
and past all reason and other desires,
see them chase the drug god
and to see them lying there
somewhat dead to life.
poem by Gert Strydom
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White Room
I can see her at her windows watching
Locked away inside her skin
I can see her but I cant get to her
She wont come out, and she wont let me into
The white room (shes living in)
Lying alone til she comes undone
In the white room
She burns for the real thing
But it wont come
In her head is the same obsession
And all the bottles and pills wont heal her heart
She heard his last confession
Every word just tears her apart
In the white room (locked away)
Doing time til her time is done
In the white room theres so much to say
But the words wont come
Come back to the land of the living
When you gonna break that chain
Theres much too much that youre leaving
And youre never gonna stop the rain
In the white room
Waiting for the call that never comes
In the white room, she waits
Look at something long enough youll find
That the splinters and the cracks begin to show
Ill be the first in line when the walls start falling
And she lets go of
The white room (its late)
Living alone only makes you numb
In the white room
She burns for the real thing but it wont come
Come back to the land of the living
When you gonna break that chain
Theres much too much that youre leaving
And youre never gonna stop the rain
In the white room (shes living in)
Doing time til her time is done
In the white room she burns
In the white room (its late)
Lying alone till she comes undone
In the white room she waits
In the white room...
song performed by by Rick Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lost August
‘No, it’s not that I want to be awkward’,
He began, as he stifled a sigh,
‘Though I don’t understand your intentions,
And I’m not even going to try,
I will bow to your final decision
In this, as in all we have done,
Only, please try to show me some kindness
As the man you once loved for your own.’
She looked from the living room window
Her arms tightly crossed at the breast,
Her back was so sternly toward him
That he feared for the worst, (and the best) ,
‘There once was a time, ’ then she halted,
Some things were left better unsaid,
Then she sighed, ‘Well, it’s just for one Christmas...
Then she snarled, ‘But I wish you were dead.’
And he smiled, as she turned back to face him
In that wistful expression of old,
Where his mouth turned the corners up lightly
But his eyes cried their hurt in the cold.
‘Yes, it’s only for Christmas I’m asking
With our children again at the last,
I’ll be gone with the wind in the morning,
Just a memory drift in your past.’
Then he felt that he should have said something
So he muttered I’m sorry… and that’,
And he turned down his gaze to the carpet,
And he felt for his old, beaten hat.
‘Don’t go... would you care for a coffee...’
She haltingly started to say,
As he fumbled his hat in confusion
To nod his familiar way.
‘If you’d rather I went, ’ he said quickly,
‘I know this is painful for you....’
‘Don't be soft, ’ said his wife from the kitchen,
‘It’s long since I felt owt for you...’
‘If you’d only been more of a husband,
Or more of a father to them...
‘Yes, I know, ’ and he painfully nodded,
And stared at the carpet again.
‘Well, you’ll sleep on the floor, in the study,
And I don't want you wandering round,
I’ve a man, as you know, that I sleep with,
And I won’t have him feeling put down.’
Then the hurt of his glance must have touched her,
‘Well, I’m sorry, but that’s how it is,
Either sleep in the study…’ he nodded,
And accepted with grace his defeat.
‘As a matter of interest’, she started,
As she carried the tray through the door,
‘Where on earth did you go... back in August
(He just smiled at some point on the floor) .
‘Was it some fancy woman you wanted
While I spent the nights sitting alone,
Spent the days in a panic, and staring
In the hopes that you’d write, or you’d phone? ’
‘I’m sorry, ’ he muttered, ‘I’m sorry,
I know it was terribly wrong...
As he sat huddled up in the corner,
(And he’d once been so straight and so strong) ,
So strong and so young and romantic,
So faithful as well... she appeared
Once again in the line of his vision
With the slightest veiled hint of a sneer.
‘I’ll be off then, I’ll see you on Sunday, ’
Then he rushed through the door and was gone
And the tears welled again at her eyelids
As she felt so adrift and alone.
‘What is done has been done and forgotten,
I’m soft for the beggar, I know.’
Then the children rushed in at the doorway...
‘Was that Daddy we saw up the road? ’
On the night before Christmas, a shadow
Slid wearily up to the door,
And the head was both bowed and defeated,
And the coat was both ragged and torn,
But she hid the distaste as she took it
And noticed how aged he’d become,
As he went to the study in silence,
And she went to her bed with her man.
He emerged at the break of the dawning
Midst the cries of delight at the tree,
And he basked in their love and attention
As he balanced them both on his knee.
But his wife was a trifle distracted
For her man wouldn't come, at the last,
‘I’ll be gone with the wind...’ he repeated,
‘Just a memory drift in your past.’
And he’d gone as he’d promised, when morning
Saw all the festivities done,
With the love and regrets of his children
And a last, loving kiss for his son...
‘Yes it’s only for Christmas I’m asking
With our children again at the last, ’
He was gone with the wind in the morning,
Just a memory drift in her past.
But the New Year was carelessly breaking
And the memories slipping away
When the police brought the news in the morning
That he’d died on the previous day.
‘Do you mean that he’d kept it a secret,
I’ll be damned, ’ said the Sergeant again,
‘He knew he was riddled with cancer,
What a man, what a man among men! ’
So she cried… but it wasn’t in anger,
Just the soft, helpless cry of defeat...
Did he think it would be any better,
Did he think he could temper her grief?
‘As a matter of interest, ’ she’d started
As she’d carried the tray through the door,
‘Where on earth did you go back in August...
He’d just smiled at a point on the floor.
Now whenever she passes her lover
They both turn their faces away,
He went back to his job in munitions
And his wife, it was better that way...
If he’d only been more of a husband,
Or more of a father, she’d said,
And she’d sighed, ‘Well it’s just for one Christmas...
And she’d snarled, ‘But I wish you were dead! ’
And he’d smiled as she’d turned back to face him
In that wistful expression of old,
Where his mouth turned the corners up lightly
But his eyes cried their hurt in the cold.
‘Yes, it’s only for Christmas I’m asking
With our children again, at the last,
I’ll be gone with the wind in the morning,
Just a memory drift in your past.’
21 September 1974
poem by David Lewis Paget
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Dead Tomorrow
Don't you understand me?
In the back of all these visions
All these dreams inside me rotting
Like the clock is ticking down
Words like eyes they turn you inside out
To drown you later in your life
You see nothing but feel disturbed
When the pain just comes rushing in.
Words convulsing in full circles
Turning inside out to make
Us better on the outside, so much stronger now.
Can't look back because the past is burnt out
From the past because its burnt out from the past
Because its burnt out tune me out.
All my life waiting for the answers to
These dreams alone of the knife
That's cutting from my life
It's cutting from my life
It's cutting from my life
It's cutting from my life
It's cutting from my
Dead Tomorrow, dead tomorrow,
You'll be dead tomorrow
Dead Tomorrow,
You'll be dead tomorrow
Dead Tomorrow,
All my life waiting for the answers to
These dreams alone of the knife
That's cutting from my life
It's cutting from my life
It's cutting from my life
It's cutting from
Don't you understand me?
In the back of all these visions
All these dreams inside me rotting,
Like the clock is ticking down,
Can't look back because the past is burnt out
From the past because its burnt out from the past,
Because it's burnt out tune me out.
Dead Tomorrow, Dead Tomorrow,
You'll be dead Tomorrow, Dead Tomorrow
song performed by by Velvet Acid Christ
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Room
(chris waters/tom shapiro)
When I pull in the drive where your car used to be
It doesnt hurt me like it used to
I can walk through the door, and not wonder anymore
Where you are, like I used to
I can go down the hall, see the pictures on the wall
And not miss you
But I just cant bring myself to go into..
The room
Where I spent every night with you
And the light of the moon
Came through the window
And I held you
We were so close
And its just too soon
For me to go into the room
Id remember too much if I opened that door
And Im not sure if I could face it
The beds emptiness would remind me youre with
Someone else, and I couldnt take it
So, I sleep on the couch in our living room now
Since our love died
cause Im still not ready yet to go inside...
The room
Where I spent every night with you
And the light of the moon
Came through the window
And I held you
We were so close
And its just too soon
For me to go into the room
Where the light of the moon
Came through the window
And I held you
We were so close
And its just too soon
For me to go into the room
song performed by by Wade Hayes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Gary Granada’s definition of a house
A shanty of cartons as walls
Some tin for roof
Several cuttings of tin
And some worn out rubber tires
To keep the tin roofs
In place
Ten persons reside there
Too crowded
Smell of dead fish
Smell of decayed fish
And dried urine
Rodent and human urine
Hotter than the
Temperatures of
An Arizona desert
Patches of wasted wood
Planks of leftovers
Undefined window frames
There is no comfort
Room or living
Room or bed or
Sala
Every floor
Every patch
Is a bed, a room,
A kitchen
All in one
For ten people or more
Is this what you call a house?
Gary Granada is singing.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Not meant to be silent
You were not meant to be silent
You got to be responsive and resilient
There is nothing more to give vent
This is feeling which is to be sent
There may be none for person
He may be neglected for any reason
Yet he is true and to the cause
Why do you leave him? Because.....
It is not the starts that make the union
There may be difference of opinion
But no one disregards for no fault
The friendship is not something like to be guarded in vault
You may not like to see bright day
You may prefer black night in your way
Still there lies preference
One can differentiate and draw inference
I shall not seek personal audience
It was desire the day you left since
It was like putting salt in wound
I felt no pinch even if it was found
Whatever may be the grievance?
There is no use to continue hence
Forgiveness is best option given
We are never narrowly driven
It has been tradition since years
We are used to bad words to hear
Still they appear nice and acceptable
As we did accept it as respectable
You had entered as thin air
I was compelled to see your beautiful hair
You moved in with elegant style
I was totally lost for a while
You smiled and left the room
There prevailed again the gloom
I came out of room and went for stroll
She remained through out in mind like doll
It can be taken as good sign
At least she was inclined and resigned
The whole concept was to be redesigned
She stood there perfect in new dress design
She had her own idea about life to be spent
She had preferred not palace but the tent
She never commented about poor condition
It was her way of living without precondition
You faced many set backs
The kindness you had proved simple draw back
You were easily carried away and sunk
I treated you well even though was fully drunk
You took complete shift by surprise
You did not allow sun to rise
You made up your mind to wind
All past connections no where to find
It was bound to cast gloom as you decided
Severance of all relations yet not to be confided
It was pure and individual perception to follow
At least as a friend I had no other option but to allow
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Walking past the silent Nature
Nature being,
On Earth fingers,
Bygone Nature,
On Earth carpet,
Echo of the past,
Sound sour on naked abode,
At the silent abode,
Of eternal stay...
Walking past the silent Nature,
Forlorn! memory was recalled,
As the season ride pass the past,
solitude on ageless abode,
Countless as night stars,
Silent Nature,
Quiet abode,
Like a guard on post,
I gazed at the difficult attire...
Sacred sand on seasonless scene,
Like a beautiful mansion,
Their difficult abode,
Of Eternal stay....
poem by Rasaq Malik
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Crowded Room
i thought i saw your face in a crowded room
i turned to look, but you disappeared too soon
the vision of you stayed in my mind
as i felt my heart start to sink
my mind began to race faster
as it tried to think.
i thought of all the things we
had done in the past
and wondered why it did not last.
was it something that i said or done?
was i the foolish one?
did i get you to turn your back on me
or was it that you wanted to be free?
so now i search each and every crowded room
in hopes that i'll find you soon.
just to let you know
that in my heart you'll always be
for you have become a part of me.
poem by Louis Rams
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The Abandoned House And The Man Who Drags His Shoes To Make The Necessary Sound
when you arrive in the house
(the house that both of you built 17 years ago)
no one is there
not even the three white dogs
you have accepted this face of loneliness
without a mouth
it is its nature now
gentle in silence
there is nothing to talk about with someone else
when someone else is far away and seemingly taking all the hearts out
the door and the hinges have to keep things for themselves
for in truth, those who left the stairs
they still love
you have the key to the door of the kitchen
and that is where you start the journey towards the living room
you scurry on some little memories
it is like putting some words in your notes
in here and there beyond the margins
but it is not that endless really
for whatever it be
joy or death there's got to be an end
that is the truth of the meaning of
this word
it could be a dead-end
a street of walls
& then actually you are caught
in flagrante
where your only choice
is to go back,
retrace,
remember,
refresh
refrains, refrains
of a
love song
you go back to the room look longingly at the bed
the blankets are dusty and the pillows are stained with so much emptiness
or guilt
scruples
Freudian analysis
Carl Jung's other possibilities
of reconciliation
this is a very soundless world and
every part here is keeping its mouth shut
their layers of concealment are thick
and their canopies of
self-defenses are hard
you feel like this is one kind of a giant shell
and you are inside it
its flesh
all blistering
flesh
you decide to wear your shoes all throughout this scrutiny
this journey into marriage
into childlessness
into what if's
you drag your feet with your shoes on
as though someone is suffering and wanting to die
and you hold the collar
and you hurt the backbone
and in that open window
you imagine that someone may finally
jump like a scared cat
nine lives
thirty-six softest feet
you purposely make a sound with your shoes
tapping and tapping
and tapping
to create those sounds
of the past dances
just to fill an empty room
some thoughts jump out of the window
dressed in euphemisms
as the ceiling creates its own crankiness
its cloudiness
nine cats in you jump out that window
falling softly on the grass below
all thirty-six
dreams
it is nice to see of course
nine unharmed cats like fluffy cotton blown by the wind and gently
softly land on the grass
it is no wonder
why men sometimes invoke the sound of their whistling
indeed it is by this time
very relaxing
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Never Give Up
living with me
I don't think it would be so bad
this is the first time this year
that I'm not going to make you mad
I'm tired of my conscious
always telling me to stop slipping in
but I can't waste a second
on trains that will never begin
everyone has a head upon their shoulders
we're losing our pride as we all get older
everyone has to become their saviors
you might not get it right
or you might realize that its too late
don't back down
I'm over the past
can't you see
don't back down
I don't really care about before
before you met me
is it cool if I see you tonight
there's a thousand questions
I want to ask you
if you think that its alright
everyone has a head upon their shoulders
we're losing our pride as we all get older
everyone has to become their saviors
you might not get it right
or you might realize that its too late
don't back down
I'm over the past
can't you see
don't back down
I don't really care about before
before you met me
so don't take anything for granted
sit outside in the rain
an excuse you know I planned it
every ending
its all the same
don't back down
I'm over the past
can't you see
don't back down
I don't really care about before
before you met me
song performed by by New Found Glory from Sticks And Stones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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