In January
Only one cell in the frozen hive of night
is lit, or so it seems to us:
this Vietnamese café, with its oily light,
its odors whose colorful shapes are like flowers.
Laughter and talking, the tick of chopsticks.
Beyond the glass, the wintry city
creaks like an ancient wooden bridge.
A great wind rushes under all of us.
The bigger the window, the more it trembles.
poem by Ted Kooser
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
January
the tinkle of porcelain spoons
clink of glasses
and click of chopsticks
turn over december to january
the old year
just a few minutes ago
a flash of the meteor
gone and lost
in another part of the mind
now all alighted with
the new year, new plans
new wishes and hopes
january
the new child
brings fresh hope and joy
all of a sudden all the attention
is focussed on the new days
the old year slowly, slowly,
just another memory
a dead relativel
inspired by
In January
Only one cell in the frozen hive of night
is lit, or so it seems to us:
this Vietnamese café, with its oily light,
its odors whose colorful shapes are like flowers.
Laughter and talking, the tick of chopsticks.
Beyond the glass, the wintry city
creaks like an ancient wooden bridge.
A great wind rushes under all of us.
The bigger the window, the more it trembles.
Ted Kooser
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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In January
i could walk carefree
in tokyo streets and lanes
in october, november and early december
in my T-Shirt treating it as spring but not january
when the temperature would suddenly take a dip
like an olympic swimmer with fiery ambition
plunging into the pool
the chill bites into the most sensitive parts
near the chest, setting the bodice trembling,
teeth hitting each other the way dad shunts his soroban beads
shaking like the winter breeze on and off, on and off
throughout the lanes and streets
laughters, songs trail the ears
on and off, on and off as the izakaya door
opens to either welcome or sends off some customers
the cold and loneliness of the streets
make these drinking houses
feel like a happy family where children and parents
crowd together for their nightly fun
january in tokyo could either be warm or cold
for lovers to cling closer to each other in their walk
for tired managers to go for atsukan to warm up their nerves
for the homeless, everything feels so colder than they should be
their hearts take a dip each time they hear laughter and songs
from the izakaya
inspired by
In January
Only one cell in the frozen hive of night
is lit, or so it seems to us:
this Vietnamese café, with its oily light,
its odors whose colorful shapes are like flowers.
Laughter and talking, the tick of chopsticks.
Beyond the glass, the wintry city
creaks like an ancient wooden bridge.
A great wind rushes under all of us.
The bigger the window, the more it trembles.
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Aubade
JANE, Jane,
Tall as a crane,
The morning light creaks down again;
Comb your cockscomb-ragged hair,
Jane, Jane, come down the stair.
Each dull blunt wooden stalactite
Of rain creaks, hardened by the light,
Sounding like an overtone
From some lonely world unknown.
But the creaking empty light
Will never harden into sight,
Will never penetrate your brain
With overtones like the blunt rain.
The light would show (if it could harden)
Eternities of kitchen garden,
Cockscomb flowers that none will pluck,
And wooden flowers that 'gin to cluck.
In the kitchen you must light
Flames as staring, red and white,
As carrots or as turnips shining
Where the cold dawn light lies whining.
Cockscomb hair on the cold wind
Hangs limp, turns the milk's weak mind . . .
Jane, Jane,
Tall as a crane,
The morning light creaks down again!
poem by Dame Edith Louisa Sitwell
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Tomorrow I Will Write It In Prose.
i tell you when i was away, i went to places that could have lost me,
everything was delayed,
the bus is old, the window is a glass with a crack which i do not touch afraid that it may cause injury to my ring finger,
the roads are muddy, and workers are repairing one wooden bridge,
we stop from time to time, a child is conducting traffic, the town is
crowded, and the street at night has no light,
i mix with those passengers carrying so many baggage, old men carrying fighting cocks, students with their ears stuck on cell phones,
i talk to no one because no one talks to me, and then the rain pours heavily, and then the world gets darker,
my silence is choking me, but then i want to be alive, and so i breathe
deep and hard. I realized something. Tomorrow i will write it in prose.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Clockwork Creep
Im a clockwork creep
And I cant get to sleep
They wind me up and let me go
And I cant unwind
Going out of my mind
My time is coming soon you know
Tick a tick a time bomb
Tick a tick a time bomb
Tick a tick a time bomb
Im a jumbo jet
With a brand new set
Of passengers and bags and crew
Ill spread my wings -
Do a thousand things
To prove how good I am to you
Tick a tick a time bomb
Tick a tick a time bomb
Tick a tick a time bomb
Tick a tick a time bomb
Tick a tick a time bomb
Tick a tick a time bomb
Meanwhile in the cargo of escargot
The temperature is rising
Advertising that our time is running
Down, down, down, down, down
Oh with just one minute to live
Oh, no youll never get me up in one of these again
'cos what goes up must come
Down, down, down, down, down
Down, down, down, down, down
Oh, the gravity of the situation
Its only my willpower
That keeps this thing in operation
But were gonna crash thats for certain
The pilot is too busy flirtin
And he aint aware
That theres a bomb down there
And if he dont do something its curtains
Now just hold on,
Said the little bomb,
If you were just to hold my hands
Then time would stop
The plot would flop
And jumbo would be safe to land
Tick a tick a time bomb
Tick a tick a time bomb
Tick a tick a time bomb
My landings are the envy
Of sabena and pan am
From chattanooga to japan
I taxi through the airways -
What a swell little plane
What a fine little plane
What a great little plane
I am
Hang on one sec
Im a clockwork wreck
And though my fuse is burning slow
Must keep my date to detonate
Goodbye, ta ta, and cheerio
Tick a tick a time bomb
Tick a tick a time bomb
Tick a tick a time bomb
Tick a tick a time bomb
Tick a tick a time bomb
Tick a tick a time bomb
Tick a tick a time bomb
Tick a tick a time bomb
Tick a tick a time bomb
Tick a.........
song performed by by 10 Cc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Surprise in Japan - Using Chopsticks
the Japanese says
he's surprised I use
chopsticks too
I thought everybody knows Chopsticks orgiinated in China and spread around from there. So I was very surprised when several Japanese expressed surprise that I can use chopsticks. Perhaps, they are not well versed in the history of chopsticks.
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Une Charogne
Rappelez-vous l'objet que nous vîmes, mon âme,
Ce beau matin d'été si doux :
Au détour d'un sentier une charogne infame
Sur un lit semé de cailloux,
poem by Charles Baudelaire
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Cell Phone Mania
Cell phones to the right,
Cell phones to the left,
Cell phones, cell phones,
everywhere I look.
Red alert, stop! Listen,
shut up and drive,
shut up and read,
Cell phones, why so many.
Everyone talking,
cell phones in cars,
cell phones in bars,
eating places, cell phones.
There you can't escape
from them, you say
to yourself, the restroom,
no one would dare
use cell phone in there,
oh no, I hear someone,
talking to me, I answer them,
oh, sorry sir, did not know you
were on cell phone.
Oh, so many,
shut up, and walk.
Do away with cell phones,
and it would be like,
the crash of '29'.
People need cell phones,
sometimes their nice,
to have, but so many,
cell phones, might
as well join them
if you can't lick 'em,
join them.
Cell phone, cell phone
now how do I use this
thing, oh cell phone, cell phone,
Hello, Hello, oh that's
you mert.
wrote 1-19-07
Cuckoo Clock
We knew it must have been late
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
We had no time to wait
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
I went to light the fireplace
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
I planned it all this way, and
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
I snuggled close to her
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
Her heart began to purr
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
I held my breath inside, and then
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
I put my arms around her
(tick-tock)
Cuckoo, cuckoo (go away silly bird)
Cuckoo, cuckoo (go away silly bird)
Cuckoo, cuckoo (go away silly bird)
Cuckoo, cuckoo
I put that birdie away
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
His cuckoo was gone to stay
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
We both apologized for why
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
Forgave that doggone cuckoo
I went back to her side
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
I had to swallow my pride
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
The fire had almost died away
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
We just got situated
(tick-tock)
Cuckoo, cuckoo (go away silly bird)
Cuckoo, cuckoo (go away silly bird)
Cuckoo, cuckoo (go away silly bird)
Cuckoo, cuckoo
I took that clock apart
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
I broke the cuckoos heart
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
Hell never bother us again
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
We just forgot about him
(tick-tock)
Cuckoo, cuckoo (go away silly bird)
Cuckoo, cuckoo (go away silly bird)
Cuckoo, cuckoo (go away silly bird)
Cuckoo, cuckoo
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Time Goes On
Intro:
Tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick
Repeat x14
Chorus
On and on, time goes on, never stops,
Just goes on
Repeat
Im seem forever, since time began
So full of mysteries we dont understand
Searching for answers and remedies
As problems plague us like an enemy
Bridge
Round and round in circles we go
Will we ever stop, nobody knows
Running with the hands of time
Always reaching, still we seem to find
Time just marches on
Chorus
So many blinded by life today
When will we realize love the only way
Its time to wake up
cause times have changed
Time waits for no one
Its a crucial game
Bridge
Chorus
Take care of business, dont procrastinate
We must decide on what becomes our fate
Nation to nation, love is the key
Lets take the time we need more unity
Bridge
Chorus x2
Bridge
Chorus x2
Fade
song performed by by En Vogue
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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This Disease
This disease
Im out of my class
This disease
Im needle sick again
This disease
We must expect such things
This disease
She finds me the girls
Tick tock tick
All gone all gone all gone
Tick tock tick
Whispering goodbye
Tick tock tick
Who is talking?
Tick tock tick
I dont have the choice
Look at me
A puppet dancing on strings
Look at me
And this is easy?
Look at me
I got the screams
Look at me
Words failing
This disease
This disease
song performed by by Gary Numan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Red Light
Red Light"
[talking:]
It's crazy
I can't believe that you
Would be the one to do
Do me like you do
Get back here baby
[verse 1]
Girl you let me
Have my way and i was thinkin i could get it again
Baby we could be friends if you only (ssh)
And you show me
Just how quick your tires could spin
You were off in the wind
Tell me were did you go
[hook 1]
When you left (oh)
I'm thinkin which way did she go
I should have known that you would lead me on girl
Im in the wind on cruise control
I gotta be dreamin cuz i never felt like this before
[chorus]
It was supposed to be
Just a one night
In and out and im out the door
But she's got me sittin here
At the red light
Drivin round lookin out for her
It was supposed to be
Just a one night
In and out and im out the door
So why am i sittin here
At the red light
Drivin round lookin out for her
Lookin out for her
[verse 2]
Now its rainin
And i'm lookin over at the passenger side
Thinkin back in my mind how you set me off
She was stoppin and droppin me
Switchin from fast to slow
But that aint have nothing on how you got
When i got you home
[hook 2]
When you left (oh)
I'm thinkin which way did she go
The way you touched yourself
Had me up the wall
Im in the wind on cruise control
I'm searchin for you cuz i can't seem to let you go
[chorus]
[talking]
You know
I really only thought
That this would be a one night stand
What you doin to me
Come on
What you doin to me
[bridge]
Maybe (maybe)
She's runnin home to someone else (someone else)
Or maybe (or maybe)
She lost my number in her cell
(oooh babe)
(what you doin to me)
Or maybe (or maybe)
She's never done like this before
Cuz i cant see (can't see)
Her not comin back for more
More
[chorus 2X]
song performed by by Usher
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Last Night I Was Talking To Myself
last night i was talking to myself
asking and making answers
like the way i make a knot and
then untie them from a cemented
post at the port
so that the wooden boat
may finally be let loose
and be free to sail
to its chosen destination
the sea was so wide
like all seas that you have seen
but the night was so dark
like no other
last night i was formulating solutions
to a very common problem
like how to cure a cold
with just a glass of water
like how to appease the coldness
of a room with nothing but
a piece of a woolen blanket
and curling feet and
hiding hands in my pocket
so i can have the exact warmth
so i may finally have my much
needed sleep and
dream about the peace
between the clouds
and the stars
last night i could not sleep
and you are beside me
last night i opened the window
of our room while you
were there snoring
last night i was silently
talking about the absence of
stars the loss of the moon
and then the rain fell
heavily on the roof of this house
and then i closed the windows
and then i listened to every sound
and then i noticed a faint light coming
from a leak of these walls
i know
another morning has finally
come
it is broken they say.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Come, Night...
come, night...
night of the holy,
open arms outstretched,
wrapping all that hurts
and burns in cooling blackness.
come, night,
night of the candle lit,
of the curtains blown,
of the silent whispers.
come, night,
night of the glass upturned,
of the laughter of comrades,
of the talking of the eyes.
come, night,
night of the bodies wrapped,
the tongues electric,
the hardness and the wetness.
come, night,
night of quiet reflection,
of soulful introspection,
of prayer beyond words.
come, night,
night of sleep eternal,
of the wind that leaves the body,
and searches the depths of emptiness.
come, night...
let us walk!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Frozen With Flowers (Revision)
Sitting among flowers burning with joy
of life - even the small purple ones have
yellow hearts, orange flowers seem warm
Yet it feels as if they are frozen as I sit in
the cold, then the dream - an Ice Princess
sitting atop a glass mountain
They're her only reminders of the real world,
a heroine and a prince will not come, for
all eternity the Princess sits among frozen
Beauty of long ago with ice-covered flowers
from when she still believed an inner world
of love could be realised by wishing for it
They are frozen tokens to keep her company,
she is happy, the ardent longing to find ideals
and fight for them have also been
Frozen with flowers...
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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A Walk Around the Block
My friends and I went to the city
And we took a little walk
After having a delicious lunch
We walked around the block
You see, we were in Oklahoma City
A place that just never lets you down
So we took our time and noticed
Decorations adorning the town
We love the many colorful statues
Like Buffalo with so much charm
They look rather mean of course
But they really would do us no harm
The Colcard of course we visited
And the spectacular Sheridan
If you take the time and look around
You can always have terrific fun
The flowers are so colorful and pretty
We stopped and gave them praise
Yes, taking the time to notice things
Why, you really would be quite amazed
I hope that you too will take time
In whatever city you are in
To look and listen and observe
City life and its delightful blend!
poem by by unknown author
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Baby Girls Window
I've got you rainbows seen your sunbeams
I know a place where heaven breathes
And it's through her window
Your baby girl's window
I know you're happy where you are
Singing to the moon talking to the stars
Through her window
Your baby girl's window
There's fingermarks around her soul
But your laughter fills the hole
Through her window
Your baby girl's window
Aaah I wish you would stay
Aaah to see what she made of herself
People say you were gone too soon
I see your face when flowers bloom
Through her window
Your baby girl's window
I'm looking for the words to say
Something to take her pain away
Through her window
Aaah I wish you would stay
Aaah to see what she made of herself
song performed by by Robbie Williams from Life Thru A Lens
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Raven Black
flowers etched in glass
their bloom immortalized,
their frangrance a frozen promise
never tested hence never broken....
flowers etched in glass
their couplets monogamous prophets
suspended in impotent fidelity
never lured hence never wavered
flowers etched in glass
paragons of worth
my reflection amidst them
human, tarnished, raven black
poem by Wardha Jawdat
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The Bombardment
Slowly, without force, the rain drops into the city. It stops a moment
on the carved head of Saint John, then slides on again, slipping and trickling
over his stone cloak. It splashes from the lead conduit of a gargoyle,
and falls from it in turmoil on the stones in the Cathedral square.
Where are the people, and why does the fretted steeple sweep about in the sky?
Boom! The sound swings against the rain. Boom, again! After it, only water
rushing in the gutters, and the turmoil from the spout of the gargoyle.
Silence. Ripples and mutters. Boom!
The room is damp, but warm. Little flashes swarm about from the firelight.
The lustres of the chandelier are bright, and clusters of rubies
leap in the bohemian glasses on the `etagere'. Her hands are restless,
but the white masses of her hair are quite still. Boom! Will it never cease
to torture, this iteration! Boom! The vibration shatters a glass
on the `etagere'. It lies there, formless and glowing,
with all its crimson gleams shot out of pattern, spilled, flowing red,
blood-red. A thin bell-note pricks through the silence. A door creaks.
The old lady speaks: 'Victor, clear away that broken glass.' 'Alas!
Madame, the bohemian glass!' 'Yes, Victor, one hundred years ago
my father brought it -' Boom! The room shakes, the servitor quakes.
Another goblet shivers and breaks. Boom!
It rustles at the window-pane, the smooth, streaming rain, and he is shut
within its clash and murmur. Inside is his candle, his table, his ink,
his pen, and his dreams. He is thinking, and the walls are pierced with
beams of sunshine, slipping through young green. A fountain tosses itself
up at the blue sky, and through the spattered water in the basin he can see
copper carp, lazily floating among cold leaves. A wind-harp in a cedar-tree
grieves and whispers, and words blow into his brain, bubbled, iridescent,
shooting up like flowers of fire, higher and higher. Boom!
The flame-flowers snap on their slender stems. The fountain rears up
in long broken spears of dishevelled water and flattens into the earth. Boom!
And there is only the room, the table, the candle, and the sliding rain.
Again, Boom! - Boom! - Boom! He stuffs his fingers into his ears.
He sees corpses, and cries out in fright. Boom! It is night,
and they are shelling the city! Boom! Boom!
A child wakes and is afraid, and weeps in the darkness. What has made
the bed shake? 'Mother, where are you? I am awake.' 'Hush, my Darling,
I am here.' 'But, Mother, something so queer happened, the room shook.'
Boom! 'Oh! What is it? What is the matter?' Boom! 'Where is Father?
I am so afraid.' Boom! The child sobs and shrieks. The house
trembles and creaks. Boom!
Retorts, globes, tubes, and phials lie shattered. All his trials
oozing across the floor. The life that was his choosing, lonely, urgent,
goaded by a hope, all gone. A weary man in a ruined laboratory,
that is his story. Boom! Gloom and ignorance, and the jig of drunken brutes.
Diseases like snakes crawling over the earth, leaving trails of slime.
Wails from people burying their dead. Through the window, he can see
the rocking steeple. A ball of fire falls on the lead of the roof,
and the sky tears apart on a spike of flame. Up the spire,
behind the lacings of stone, zigzagging in and out of the carved tracings,
squirms the fire. It spouts like yellow wheat from the gargoyles, coils round
the head of Saint John, and aureoles him in light. It leaps into the night
and hisses against the rain. The Cathedral is a burning stain on the white,
wet night.
Boom! The Cathedral is a torch, and the houses next to it begin to scorch.
Boom! The bohemian glass on the `etagere' is no longer there.
Boom! A stalk of flame sways against the red damask curtains.
The old lady cannot walk. She watches the creeping stalk and counts.
Boom! - Boom! - Boom!
The poet rushes into the street, and the rain wraps him in a sheet of silver.
But it is threaded with gold and powdered with scarlet beads. The city burns.
Quivering, spearing, thrusting, lapping, streaming, run the flames.
Over roofs, and walls, and shops, and stalls. Smearing its gold on the sky,
the fire dances, lances itself through the doors, and lisps and chuckles
along the floors.
The child wakes again and screams at the yellow petalled flower
flickering at the window. The little red lips of flame creep along
the ceiling beams.
The old man sits among his broken experiments and looks at
the burning Cathedral. Now the streets are swarming with people.
They seek shelter and crowd into the cellars. They shout and call,
and over all, slowly and without force, the rain drops into the city.
Boom! And the steeple crashes down among the people. Boom! Boom, again!
The water rushes along the gutters. The fire roars and mutters. Boom!
poem by Amy Lowell
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A Boring Day
as he opens the window
there is only the shadow of leaves on the trees
on a gray background
it is twilight, midway between night and day
sounds of a cold wind from the forest
the rooster crows and some chirping birds
you sit and gaze through the window
light comes in
this happens everyday and there is nothing significant
after 49 years, and this time a hole is bored inside your heart
you fear that love is gone.
that the birds do not chirp musical notes
the wind much colder now and you shiver
light seeps in trickles like rain on your wrinkled skin
it is the same morning, and it will be same mornings all over again.
you do not move. You let time go and your hands are frozen.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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