Booting Out The Dust
booting out the dust of the house onto the streets
and inviting it back on the floors of the house
remind the venting out of our grudges in monologues
and flooding in others' grievances into the portals of our minds-
a task untiringly performed by one and all.
poem by Sundaram Chandrakalaadhar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Building A Big House
you build a big house
with one thought, a wish
that something may last forever
like love, like the finest wood
like a relationship,
or say
(let me say it this way)
a marriage, like strong stairs
inviting attention to society
that no one is leaving
like a door closing behind
a sigh,
but a house with time falls
pillars collide, and floors go
termite eaten to the ground
doors fall out from the hinges
that hold them it their frames,
nothing lasts forever
i know,
i build a house because i know
what love is
i want to give it shelter and warmth
like those rooms
a glow like those living rooms
a nice dinner
like the kitchen and the dining tables.
i do not think beyond my body
that turns to dust
i know
i do not utter beyond my words, i know,
no words can withstand the
lures of the niceties of a lie.
i know
i build the house because we are here
and there is nothing
worth doing
there is no snow and ski is irrelevant.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Houses
1898 -- A Song of the Dominions
'Twixt my house and thy house the pathway is broad,
In thy house or my house is half the world's hoard;
By my house and thy house hangs all the world's fate,
On thy house and my house lies half the world's hate.
For my house and thy house no help shall we find
Save thy house and my house -- kin cleaving to kind;
If my house be taken, thine tumbleth anon.
If thy house be forfeit, mine followeth soon.
'Twixt my house and thy house what talk can there be
Of headship or lordship, or service or fee?
Since my house to thy house no greater can send
Than thy house to my house -- friend comforting friend;
And thy house to my house no meaner can bring
Than my house to thy house -- King counselling King.
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Feeling Like A Stranger
in this place
this house without furnitures
all floors, this house with nothing but some stairs
and windows
you built it, i was away for years and we meet again
in this house
of acquaintances
devoid of affection, i have a way of telling what is this all about
by merely looking at the ceiling
there are no lights
to clarify me, who am i? in this house where i am not even a tree
or a vine
rootless, leafless
dying,
shall i continue living here?
i feel so unlike everyone else,
i am a total stranger
in this house that you built
this house devoid of affection,
i guess i have no choice
but to leave at once
otherwise, i too shall perish
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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House Of Jazz
Humdinger
Bell ringer
Got a nasty stinger
To slow you down
Mud slinger
Gold digger
Who point the finger
And do you down
Kickin' and a fightin' on a TV show
Lightin' blindin' in the middle of the road
Are you comin' in
Are you comin' in
I said come into the house of
Come into the house of
Come into the house of jazz
Come into the house of
Come into the house of
Come into the house of jazz
Ball stripper
Big tipper
Got a slap 'n' tickler
To make you growl
Spitin' and bitin' on a TV show
Tightenin' frightenin' givin' out a load
Are you comin' in
Are you comin' in
I said come into the house of
Come into the house of
Come into the house of jazz
Come into the house of
Come into the house of
Come into the house of jazz
Are you comin' in
Come on in
Are you comin' in
Are you comin' in
I said come into the house of
Come into the house of
Come into the house of jazz
Come into the house of
Come into the house of
Come into the house of jazz
Are you comin' in
Are you comin' in
I said into the house of jazz
Come into the house of
Come into the house of
Come into the house of jazz
The house of jazz
song performed by by AC/DC from Stiff Upper Lip
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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House Of Jazz
(young - young)
Humdinger
Bell ringer
Got a nasty stinger
To slow you down
Mud slinger
Gold digger
Who point the finger
And do you down
Kickin and a fightin on a tv show
Lightin blindin in the middle of the road
Are you comin in
Are you comin in
I said come into the house of
Come into the house of
Come into the house of jazz
Come into the house of
Come into the house of
Come into the house of jazz, yes
Ball stripper
Big tipper
Got a slap n tickler
To make you growl
A spitin and bitin on a tv show
Tightenin frightenin givin out a load
Are you comin in
Are you comin in
I said come into the house of
Come into the house of
Come into the house of jazz
Come into the house of
Come into the house of
Come into the house of jazz
Are you comin in
Come on in
Are you comin in
Are you comin in
I said come into the house of
Come into the house of
Come into the house of jazz
Come into the house of
Come into the house of
Come into the house of jazz
Are you comin in
Are you comin in
I said into the house of jazz
Come into the house of
Come into the house of
Come into the house of jazz
The house of jazz
2000, j. albert & son, pty.
song performed by by AC-DC
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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House Of Pain
I live inthe house of pain
And inside of that house of pain is very cold
But to fix it I had to buy a small heater
And now the house of pain is warm
But there are dust and dust mites
And the only way that I can fix it
Is by sweeping all over the house of pain
poem by Aldo Kraas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Complicated Lifestyle.
a man's life is simple.
he has a routine, like this: house, office, house.
he gets bored, adds another place,
like house, office, park, mall, house,
waste of money, but a little interesting, he adds more
a friend's house, another house where he can be intimate with someone,
then sex, and games and romance and betrayal and use and sue and
lots of booze,
he retreats back to house, office, house,
but it is not the same again.
he sins, feels so broke, and
to a certain extent
attempts at suicide.
sad, but it can happen to you.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Love Hate Relationship
i see you, seated on the staircase, the old one
left by your parents long dead, and
you are crying there, some tears falling on the
carpeted floors, so your sorrow is invisible
to his eyes, when he comes home, you put on a smile,
like a light that you switch on when it is dark,
it has always been that everyday with you,
and him, and he tells you every instruction to keep that love
burning, you listen, but as soon as he goes
to another place, far, and you sit again on that old staircase
counting the rails and the chairs of the house
you begin to think honestly, that this affair is nothing but a
fraud. It is only him. But to him that should not be, as you he goes
away for days, and you keep on staying put
with all his instructions. You worry about the electricity of the house.
and the gas that keeps the oven hot for the bread
and the muffins
but for how long. The tank of gas will be empty soon.
and what he will find in this house, when you decide to end it all
is just the muffin that the ants of the house
are still eating. There is always a season to end what was started.
soon. It will be. You sit on the stair, looking out the door.
You will know how to make the dust. Soon, It will be.
He will never know.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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English Project
I heard an explosion today near our house. I was so scared that I got my gun quickly and looked for my uncle. Surprisingly, he was still asleep in his room. After I checked on him, I ran outside the house and there was smoke and dust everywhere. The stench of gunpowder tickled my nose horribly. I looked for dead people but couldn’t see anything or anyone because of the dust. When the dust lifted up, there were bodies and blood everywhere. At the corner of the building a block away from our house, I saw a familiar body lying on the ground. When I came closer, I realised that it was my friend, Ali, and he was... dead! I was so shocked that I ran into our house and did not leave my bed for the rest of the day. The only thing that I knew that time is that I HATE THIS LAND.
poem by Jas Andrada
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Melancholic....
I have my own dreams
i keep them in my house
and no one sees them
every night i look at all
these dreams of mine
my treasure, my gold
they do not glitter anymore
i have my own rusty dreams
and i keep them inside my house
there they all turn to powder
to dust, to nothing
one night i am tired of all these dreams
put them all inside a box
and throw them all to the sea
and then the sea has all my dreams
now i have my house without dreams
it is an empty house
proud with nothing but myself alone
i am the dream of this house
it's only dream
soon the house shall be gone
soon i shall be too gone
someone shall build another house
another dream......
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Baby, Lets Play House
(words & music by arthur gunter)
Oh, baby, baby, baby, baby baby.
Baby, baby baby, b-b-b-b-b-b baby baby, baby.
Baby baby baby
Come back, baby, I wanna play house with you.
Well, you may go to college,
You may go to school.
You may have a pink cadillac,
But dont you be nobodys fool.
Now baby,
Come back, baby, come.
Come back, baby, come.
Come back, baby,
I wanna play house with you.
Now listen and Ill tell you baby
What Im talking about.
Come on back to me, little girl,
So we can play some house.
Now baby,
Come back, baby, come.
Come back, baby, come.
Come back, baby,
I wanna play house with you.
Oh lets play house, baby.
Now this is one thing, baby
That I want you to know.
Come on back and lets play a little house,
And we can act like we did before.
Well, baby,
Come back, baby, come.
Come back, baby, come.
Come back, baby,
I wanna play house with you.
Yeah.
Now listen to me, baby
Try to understand.
Id rather see you dead, little girl,
Than to be with another man.
Now baby,
Come back, baby, come.
Come back, baby, come.
Come back, baby, I wanna play house with you.
Oh, baby baby baby.
Baby baby baby b-b-b-b-b-b baby baby baby.
Baby baby baby.
Come back, baby, I wanna play house with you.
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Baby Lets Play House
You may go to college.
You may go to school
You might drive a pink cadillac
But dont you be nobodys fool
Come back, baby. come back.
Come back, baby. come back.
Come back, baby. I want to play house with you
Listen to me baby.
What Im talking about
Come on back me little girl
So we can play some house.
Come back baby come back
Come back baby gone.
Come back baby I want to play house with you
Well, theres just one thing baby
That I want you to know
Come on back we can play a little house
And we act like we did before.
Come back, baby. come back.
Come back, baby. come back.
Come back, baby. I want to play house with you
Listen to me baby.
Try to understand
I rather see you dead little girl
Than see you with another man
Come back, baby. come back.
Come back, baby. come back.
Come back, baby. I want to play house with you
song performed by by John Prine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A House for Four
A house for four
What is it? a house for four
A dingy looking thing
Are there windows? none
What is it? a house for four
Such a palace
Are there greetings? none
What is it? a house for four
Why the space is so small
Is there privacy? none
What is it? a house for four
A dozen creeps could be creeping there
Is there any trust? none
Don't judge me for mine
Poor fool i wont
Even give you the time
Are you judging me?
Your quite the choir
With a cracking voice
And
A tall house that falls
To scrutiny
A house for four and
A house for four
A people of choir and
A people of poor
Do you not recognize
The stains are yours?
A house is not a house
Unless there is more
More and more
Sometimes less is more
poem by Deci Hernandez
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They Are Tearing Down My Grandfather's House
(An NLP Editor's Choice Award Winner in Verdant Lands of Spring) They are tearing down my Grandfather's house,
it's made of wood and brick and stone.
The windows they've removed. To them it's real
estate, to me it's my heart being ripped in two.
The realtors, the bankers, the moneymen don't understand.
A house is more than made of wood, a house is made of man. My Grandfather's house is a memory that will
endure after it's torn down.
He's been gone for near thirty years, but his
house had lived on.
I know the world is made of change, and change
is all that's real. But one thing I cannot change,
that is the way I feel. I wipe a tear in the falling rain,
because they are tearing down my Grandfather's
house, and it gives me pain.
I love him as if it were yesteryear,
his wit and smile as warm as the sun.
The house once stood to remind me, but that too
is gone. They are tearing down my Grandfather's house,
it's made of wood and brick and stone.
Yet a house if more than made of wood,
a house is made of love.
poem by David A. Webb
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Prioritized Neccessity
Uncouth the booting to losers done.
With an anger meant to be.
Uncouth the booting by those abused,
Who have chosen the kicking to the curb,
Of those booted losers...
As a deed doing done a prioritized neccessity.
Some have done this without hesitating,
They are glad they have done this and quick.
Uncouth the booting to losers who have shown,
The booting to them done...
Has been deserved with their earning every bit of it.
Uncouth the booting to losers done.
With an anger meant to be.
Uncouth the booting by those abused,
Who have chosen the kicking to the curb,
Of those booted losers...
As a deed doing done a prioritized neccessity.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Intro
This is not a test
This is reality
We're all lying
Who's in the house?
Who's in the house?
Who's in the house?
Limp Bizkit is in the house
Who's in the house?
Who's in the house?
Who's in the house?
Limp Bizkit is in the house
Bring it on
song performed by by Limp Bizkit from Chocolate Starfish And The Hot Dog Flavored Water
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Need For A New House....Or Home...
early morning
when the doors are still closed and the windows still tipsy
like the whole house
you fly away
the sun comes out with the clouds
early morning you fly away
away from it all
the clouds are floors and grasses
and you are a lonely bird among a flock of chairs
early morning you fly away
thinking about nothing
you fly away and you feel like a leaf inside
that gentle beast
it is a ride-awA Need For A New House....Or Home...ay
among the paradoxes of life
and its ironies
early morning there is this flight that takes you to a stop-over
of your life
no one knows that you are grieving
over a search for what you feel
the one you had which you lost
intentionally
among the flock of chairs landing early morning
on unstable floors
early morning you take a cab
you choose still
which house
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Freezing Steel
Freezing steel
Ive flown the house of freezing, the house of freezing steel
And though my bodys back I know it cant be real
cause Ive been on that house without a guiding wheel
The house of freezing steel
Oh wheres it going, picked me up at seven
When my eyes were weak from the light of the morning
Oh sister wont you tell me what a man might want to know
This madness is fine, yes if youre mad at the time
Back on the house of freezing, the house of freezing steel
The tied my body up, Im forced to eat my meal
A cold plate of lamb and cold potatoes too
Now whats a soul to do
Oh lord above, brother wont you tell me
Is this a eucharistic dove
cause Ive been waiting for the right one to appear
But Ive seen it in your face, and baby this aint the place
Up on the house of freezing, the house of freezing steel.
I made my mind up then to get me to the wheel
I made the cabin door, the pilot turned around
He said were venus bound
Oh please take me home
After all Im only human and the earth is where I belong
I must have looked pitiful to this freak without a face
cause as he touched my head I saw myself back in bed
Ive flown the house of freezing, the house of freezing steel
And though my bodys back I know it cant be real
cause Ive been on that house without a guiding wheel
The house of freezing steel
song performed by by Cat Stevens
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Stranger In The House
We dont talk much
We dont make love like we used to
And I stay guarded
Ive got walls and triggers
I never thought I had
And so do you
But this is love
And thats the way we seem content to play it
I touch your clothes when youre gone
I let your scent wash over me
You cry at night and you wish just like a child
That we were how we used to be
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
And she looks like somebody from a lifetime ago
I stonewall you, you stonewall me
But we both know that
Hiding deep inside us
Lives the love that we try hard to lose
And never will
But this is war
And thats the way we seem content to fight it
I get so angry and confused cause
I want out but I want you
You cant decide between moving out or moving in
You dont know what to do
With a stranger in the house
In the house
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
And she looks like you
And he looks like me
Is this the same girl that, I fought so hard to win
And now I fight to lose her
Now I feel that its just like skin to skin
And nerve to nerve
Strung out like wire
Is that the way we are content to live
We face off in anger
In rooms once filled with love
Looking for a chink in the armour
Where we can stab the blade
What are we thinking of
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
And she looks like somebody from a lifetime ago
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
song performed by by Rick Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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New Found Sympathy
The dust is all that's left
To this lonely room
A few boxes remain
But they'll be gone soon
The pictures that formed the wall
Now belong to the trash
And all the pretty fixtures
Have long been detached
The house that held sunlight
Now only emphasizes gray
Rooms are no longer shining
And I wish it weren't that way
Lonely and empty is this house
But it's not the only one
That lost it's cheer and happiness
Where it's brightness has gone
I wish I could go back
To see what would have been
If thing's hadn't have gone wrong
If I'd still be in this house with him
poem by Airda Jones
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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