Being In Love In 1974.
Being in love
was like being ill
and that day
after Judy'd left
to go to Florence
for a week
you went to the big city
to take your mind off her
but she lingered there
wherever you went
every brunette
with long hair
was her
and when you sat
in the Royal Opera House
to watch a ballet
she was there
down in the front
at least it seemed so
until the girl looked around
and had a different
face and eyes
and sitting
in that coffee house
by Piccadilly Circus
you sensed her absence
and drank coffee
after coffee
the blues eating
at you
wanting her there
beside you
imagining maybe
she'd not gone off
after all and that
at any minute
she'd seek you out
by some kind of
lover's radar
but she never showed
and no other girl passing
was her
and you thought
of the time
a few weeks back
when after she'd
gone off home
from work
you had taken
a single hair
from her white
work coat
and twisted it
between fingers
and kept it
between pages
of Solzhenitsyn's
Gulag Archipelago
seeing it
and moving it
each time
you read more
of the labour camps
and death and snow
and tundra
and she off in Florence
with friends
and you left behind
depressed
and love blind.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Being in Love in 1974.(poem)
Being in love
was like being ill
and that day
after Judy'd left
to go to Florence
for a week
you went to the big city
to take your mind off her
but she lingered there
wherever you went
every brunette
with long hair
was her
and when you sat
in the Royal Opera House
to watch a ballet
she was there
down in the front
at least it seemed so
until the girl looked around
and had a different
face and eyes
and sitting
in that coffee house
by Piccadilly Circus
you sensed her absence
and drank coffee
after coffee
the blues eating
at you
wanting her there
beside you
imagining maybe
she'd not gone off
after all and that
at any minute
she'd seek you out
by some kind of
lover's radar
but she never showed
and no other girl passing
was her
and you thought
of the time
a few weeks back
when after she'd
gone off home
from work
you had taken
a single hair
from her white
work coat
and twisted it
between fingers
and kept it
between pages
of Solzhenitsyn's
Gulag Archipelago
seeing it
and moving it
each time
you read more
of the labour camps
and death and snow
and tundra
and she off in Florence
with friends
and you left behind
depressed
and love blind.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Judy and You and Chagall
What did you think
of the Chagall postcard print
I bought you?
Judy asked as you both sat
outside the Fox Inn
I pinned it on my wall
you replied
and stared at it every time
I entered the room
thinking of you
she sipped her drink
her eyes searching you
her hair tied behind
in a ponytail
so I gathered
by your letters
she said
putting her glass
on the small wooden table
I missed you
you said
I went to London
while you were away
and saw you
in every girl I saw
even at the ballet
at the opera house
she looked at her glass
I was only away for a week
she said
it seemed a year
you said
you inhaled the cigarette
you were holding
taking in her hair
and eyes and how
her lips moved
as she spoke
Florence was fantastic
she said
I picked out
that Chagall print for you
in one of the art galleries
who did you go with?
you asked
friends
she replied
male or female?
both
she said
you inhaled the cigarette again
and thought of the first time
you kissed her
how the moonlight
shone on her face
as you moved her around
you mustn't be so jealous
she said
I have to see others
who was the guy?
Henrik
she said
you imagined her
and this Henrik
making out
in some Florence hotel
his hands touching her
I thought of you
every moment
you said
that's sad
she said
why?
you said
because no one
should think of another
that often
she sipped her drink
and looked around
at the evening sky
how was Florence?
beautiful
she said
like you
you said
I am like Shakespeare's' lily
she said
as it withers
she added
I see
you said
and you studied
her hands as they lifted
the glass to her lips
the fingers
the skin
the way they held
the glass
did you read my letters
when you got home?
you asked
yes
she said
every single one
my mother said
I must have besotted
some poor soul
and you thought
of the Chagall print
and how you had sniffed it
for traces of her scent
and remembered
your mother's words
nothing is given forever
things in this world
are only lent.
poem by Terry Collett
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Coffee!
Coffee beans all ground up,
Coffee in my favourite cup,
Coffee black, coffee white,
Coffee dark, coffee light,
Coffee right, to start the day,
Coffee at work, coffee at play,
Coffee midday, coffee at night,
Coffee to sober, coffee to excite,
Coffee weak, coffee strong,
But maybe instead some Lapsang Souchong! ! ! !
TEA! ! ! ! !
poem by Ernestine Northover
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Coffee
Sometimes life is merely a matter of coffee and whatever intimacy a cup of coffee
affords. I once read something about coffee. The thing said that coffee is good for you;
it stimulates all the organs.
I thought at first this was a strange way to put it, and not altogether pleasant, but
as time goes by I have found out that it makes sense in its own limited way. I'll tell you
what I mean.
Yesterday morning I went over to see a girl. I like her. Whatever we had going for us
is gone now. She does not care for me. I blew it and wish I hadn't.
I rang the door bell and waited on the stairs. I could hear her moving around upstairs.
The way she moved I could tell that she was getting up. I had awakened her.
Then she came down the stairs. I could feel her approach in my stomach. Every step she
took stirred my feelings and lead indirectly to her opening the door. She saw me and it
did not please her.
Once upon a time it pleased her very much, last week. I wonder where it went,
pretending to be naive.
"I feel strange now," she said. "I don't want to talk."
"I want a cup of coffee," I said, because it was the last thing in the world
that I wanted. I said it in such a way that it sounded as if I were reading her a telegram
from somebody else, a person who really wanted a cup of coffee, who cared about nothing
else.
"All right," she said.
I followed her up the stairs. It was ridiculous. She had just put some clothes on. They
had not quite adjusted themselves to her body. I could tell you about her ass. We went
into the kitchen.
She took a jar of instant coffee off the shelf and put it on the table. She placed a
cup next to it, and a spoon. I looked at them. She put a pan full of water on the stove
and turned the gas on under it.
All this time she did not say a word. Her clothes adjusted themselves to her body. I
won't. She left the kitchen.
Then she went down the stairs and outside to see if she had any mail. I didn't remember
seeing any. She came back up the stairs and went into another room. She closed the door
after her. I looked at the pan full of water on the stove.
I knew that it would take a year before the water started to boil. It was now October
and there was too much water in the pan. That was the problem. I threw half of the water
into the sink.
The water would boil faster now. It would take only six months. The house was quiet.
I looked out the back porch. There were sacks of garbage there. I stared at the garbage
and tried to figure out what she had been eating lately by studying the containers and
peelings and stuff. I couldn't tell a thing.
It was now March. The water started to boil. I was pleased by this.
I looked at the table. There was the jar of instant coffee, the empty cup and the spoon
all laid out like a funeral service. These are the things that you need to make a cup of
coffee.
When I left the house ten minutes later, the cup of coffee safely inside me like a
grave, I said, "Thank you for the cup of coffee."
"You're welcome," she said. Her voice came from behind a closed door. Her
voice sounded like another telegram. It was really time for me to leave.
I spent the rest of the day not making coffee. It was a comfort. And evening came, I
had dinner in a restaurant and went to a bar. I had some drinks and talked to some people.
We were bar people and said bar things. None of them remembered, and the bar closed. It
was two o'clock in the morning. I had to go outside. It was foggy and cold in San
Francisco. I wondered about the fog and felt very human and exposed.
I decided to go visit another girl. We had not been friends for over a year. Once we
were very close. I wondered what she was thinking about now.
I went to her house. She didn't have a door bell. That was a small victory. One must
keep track of all the small victories. I do, anyway.
She answered the door. She was holding a robe in front of her. She didn't believe that
she was seeing me. "What do you want?" she said, believing now that she was
seeing me. I walked right into the house.
She turned and closed the door in such a way that I could see her profile. She had not
bothered to wrap the robe completely around herself. She was just holding the robe in
front of herself.
I could see an unbroken line of body running from her head to her feet. It looked kind
of strange. Perhaps because it was so late at night.
"What do you want?" she said.
"I want a cup of coffee," I said. What a funny thing to say, to say again for
a cup of coffee was not what I really wanted.
She looked at me and wheeled slightly on the profile. She was not pleased to see me.
Let the AMA tell us that time heals. I looked at the unbroken line of her body.
"Why don't you have a cup of coffee with me?" I said. "I feel like
talking to you. We haven't talked for a long time."
She looked at me and wheeled slightly on the profile. I stared at the unbroken line of
her body. This was not good.
"It's too late," she said. "I have to get up in the morning. If you want
a cup of coffee, there's instant in the kitchen. I have to go to bed."
The kitchen light was on. I looked down the hall into the kitchen. I didn't feel like
going into the kitchen and having another cup of coffee by myself. I didn't feel like
going to anybody else's house and asking them for a cup of coffee.
I realized that the day had been committed to a very strange pilgrimage, and I had not
planned it that way. At least the jar of instant coffee was not on the table, beside an
empty white cup and a spoon.
They say in the spring a young man's fancy turns to thoughts of love. Perhaps if he has
enough time left over, his fancy can even make room for a cup of coffee.
poem by Richard Brautigan from Revenge of the Lawn (1971)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Girl On LSD
i was in love with a girl on marjuana
she said if "i'm that stoned i don't wana"
but she got so paranoid
her place i would avoid
i was in love with a girl on marjuana
i was in love with a girl on cocaine
she had everything going but a brain
we'd talk endlessly for hours
but by morning it goes sour
i was in love with a girl on cocaine
through exctasy, crystel meth and glue
i found no drug that compares to you
all these pills, all this weed
i dunno just what i need
i was in love with a girl on lsd
she'd see things i'd never see
she brightened her perspective
then i got more selective
i was in love with a girl on lsd
through exctasy, crystal meth and glue
i found no drug that compares to you
all these pills, all this weed
i dunno just what i need
i was in love with a girl who drank beer
till bad breath and all she disapeared
she was blowing up real bad
but when she left i was still sad
i was in love with a girl who drank beer
i was in love with a girl on china white
we were married for a year one day
her memory still lingers
cus i burned all my fingers
i was in love with a girl on chennaway
i was in love with a girl who drank coffee
there was times when i couldn't keep her off me
that caffine got her going
but her ugly side was showing
i was in love with a girl who drank coffee
i was in love with a girl who was a dealer
i was afraid somebody would come and steal her
we never used to fight
but the phone rang day and night
i was in love with a girl who was a dealer
sure as hell
she got popped by the big guys
song performed by by Tom Petty
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Java Blues
Rick danko
I walked into a diner
And the blonde behind the counter
She asked if she could help in any way
Hell, I knew by her smile
Her number I could dial
If I was in the need of company
But as I bought some java
Instead she brought me a cup of chicory
I got those java blues
Coffees got me
Java blues
Oh coffee, coffee, coffee
Java blues
Coffees got me
Java blues
Oh coffee
You know that Ill stay high
Ill drink coffee till I die
Dont pour me water just fill up my cup
You know it takes a lot just to keep me up
Cost may be more than you care to pay
What good is money compared to fightin pain
Dont try to cheat
Its impossible to beat
The only pick me up thats here to stay
I got those java blues
Coffees got me
Java blues
Oh coffee, coffee, coffee
Java blues
Oh coffee, oh coffee
Java blues
Coffees got me
You know that Ill stay high
Ill drink coffee till I die
The taste of java is like a cocaine rush
Nobodys gonna stop me from drinkin too much
Down in bolivia the people are insane
They want as much for coffee as they do for cocaine
Dont try to cheat
Its impossible to beat
The only pick me up thats here to stay
I got those java blues
Coffees got me
Java blues
Oh coffee, coffee, coffee
Java blues
The coffees got me now..
Java blues
Oh coffee, coffee
You know that Ill stay high
Ill drink coffee till I die
I got the java blues
Oh coffee, coffee
Java blues
Oh coffee, coffee, coffee
Java blues
Oh the coffees got me
Java blues
Oh coffee, oh coffee
Java blues!
song performed by by Nazareth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Doppelganger or Such Like.
You remind me
of my brother
the woman said
after mass
meeting you
at the back
of the church
poor guy you thought
to look like me
and then the other day
while sipping a latte
at a Nero coffee house
you saw her again
sitting in the corner
with her husband
who was reading a paper
she looked up
saw you and smiled
some essence of her youth
held in there
at least in spirit
who is that?
your son asked
a woman from church
who says I look like her brother
you said
and what does her brother
look like?
he said
me I guess
you replied
taking in the Mozart music
in the back ground
some minuet
that Judy liked
some decades ago
whom you almost
made it with
until her parents
came home
before the time
they said
and she jumping up
altering her clothes
face bright and red
the woman's husband
put down the newspaper
and sipped his espresso
giving you a nod of recognition
you the guy
whom his wife said
looked like her brother
though he saw
little likeness
save for the beard
and moustache
and that look
about the eyes
you think
taking in his expression
imagining his thought process
he taking no notice
of the Mozart minuet
or knowing Judy's
white underwear
or red dress.
poem by Terry Collett
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A Cup of Coffee
I start my day with coffee as my friend
The beans so fresh, as it blends
Giving out an aroma, that wakes me up
I stumble to the kitchen and look for the cup
I pour some black liquid and sip right away
I just want coffee, to start my day
Then on the road I'm on my way
Coffee is my friend to make my day
Stuck in traffic, I loose my mind
I then sip my coffee and just rewind
I get to work with a cup in hand
Juggling with papers I can't withstand
The coffee at work tastes bitter and cheap
But it's better than getting caught counting sheep
All day long, I make pot after pot
Of black steaming mugs of liquid gut-rot
Tanked up on coffee, I face the day
Taking anything that comes my way.
poem by Meena Mustafa
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Judy
The waitress with the orange hair keeps motionin' me to hurry up and leave
I gulp my coffee - burn my mouth - grab up my coat and slippin' out
I smear a streak of mustard down my sleeve
And the guy behind the register takes my bread and shakes his head
And looks at me as if I've blown his mind
Hey, I just come here for some coffee…hope I'm not waistin' anybody's time.
And Judy I'm slowly movin' back to you
And I wish that I could say I'll treat you better than I used to
It's just I'm learnin' lots of things I never knew back then
Judy I'm slowly movin' back again
That blue eyed barracuda smiles and tells me she could she could use some brand new clothes
She grabs my leg with a wink, asks if I want another drink
She's not the campfire girl you might suppose
But she's so busy tellin' me her troubles I don't think she's got time
For any kind of trouble small as mine
Hey, I just come here for nothin'… hope I'm not waistin' anybody's time
I stop here on the corner, but that red faced cop says move along your way
My toes are cold, my nose is numb, I got no feeling in my thumb
I think I just might stop inside that church and maybe pray
But they pass the plate and look at me when it turns out that I ain't got a dime
Hey, I just come in here to talk to GOD… hope I'm not waistin' anybody's time
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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Truck Stop Runner
Stopped off on a long drive.
Down from the high country.
Spent a long time sitting here,
Long time counting hot miles.
Ohh, oh Id like a cup of black coffee and a piece of sweet cake.
But the girl in the print dress doesnt want my money--
She wont take it: she says--
Oh she says.
Oh she says I just know youre a leo,
I can tell youve got a lions heart.
She went on in this way for a while,
Like some 60s sister playing a part.
Ohh this cup of black coffee gonna do me just fine.
Through the dust in the mirror tiles I can see that door,
Keep it close behind.
Oh she says.
She says, come on over to my house,
Make a journey here sometime.
You know theres a party going on,
A ladder in my stocking you can climb,
Theres a ladder you can climb.
Oh she looked so liberated.
She was looking fit to start.
She got this back to front and sideways,
Wore her sleeve upon her heart.
Ohhh, oh, just one more coffees bout all I can take.
Have to do a truck stop runner now.
Im not man enough to make it,
She says.
She says.
Oh she says.
She says, come on over to my house,
Make a journey here sometime.
You know theres a party going on,
A ladder in my stocking you can climb,
Theres a ladder you can climb.
Stopped off on a long drive.
Down from the high country.
Spent a long time sitting here,
Long time counting hot miles.
Ohh, oh Id like a cup of black coffee and a piece of sweet cake.
But the girl in the print dress doesnt want my money--
She wont take it: she says--
Oh she says.
She says, come on over to my house,
Make a journey here sometime.
Kick off those tired sports shoes--
Got a ladder in my stocking you can climb,
Theres a ladder you can climb.
Truck stop runner.
Ill be a truck stop runner.
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Patty’s Mother Earth Coffee House
With happy smile and calming effect,
Patty at Mother Earth Coffee House is humble yet.
She always has a listening ear, she is honest, she is sincere.
No other coffee house is quite like hers,
for it has a warm heart, like Mother Earth.
Patty’s Mother Earth coffee house is quite unique,
it has a Earthly feel with gypsy mystic.
In the year 2007, Jim my friend who came along with me
visited Les Beans at the time and met warm hearted Patty.
I was once on stage with Razel at Patty’s place,
She’s a puppet with 2 evil eyes on her pale felt face.
Even Razel knows Patty’s coffee café,
is for connecting with people- having Fun all in one day.
Zoey the cat is a regular on cushy chair, sleeping, you can still pet her cat hair.
Patty has open mics with singers, with a Friday comedy night.
Performers feel comfortable on stage for Mother Earth has soothing light.
With colorful parrot and paintings on the wall,
even the bathroom is cozy, perfect not too small.
So when you are in the city of Lake Worth,
Please visit Patty at her coffee house Mother Earth.
Written by Suzae Chevalier on October 5,2011
www.puppetpoems.com
poem by Christina Sunrise
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Looking for Love
We married when we were just nineteen,
I thought her a perfect catch,
We'd fallen in love on the day she came
To watch, at a football match,
I'd fallen badly, injured my leg
And was subbed in the second half,
She came to the dressing room, and tied
My leg with her silken scarf.
She said that she was a trainee nurse
And practice was better than none,
I told her I was a graduate,
I'd be limping from now on,
We took a seat at a coffee shop
And stayed for the afternoon,
As I gazed at her dark brown eyes and hair,
And she smiled at me in the gloom.
Our romance whirled us on at a pace
That was breathless, with content,
Whatever our fate would hold for us
We were sure that it was meant,
I ceased to notice the other girls,
And she looked only at me,
We tied the knot on a fresh Spring morn
As we stood by a willow tree.
We made our home in a city flat
Close to her hospital,
I studied and crammed for my Ph.D.
Not counting the cost at all,
But soon we were way behind in the rent
And moved on out to the burbs,
Life was more difficult than we'd thought,
We grew our own veggies, and herbs.
She worked three shifts, and came home tired,
And I would study all night,
Then one came in as the other went out,
I felt that it wasn't right,
We argued then, and we made it up,
Then we argued a little more,
She said she'd go to her parents then,
But I just barred the door.
We'll just have to work it out, ' I said,
'We can't go giving up now,
I know that I love you, Sylvia,
And things will improve, somehow.'
'I love you too, but it's such a mess, '
She cried, and dabbed at her tears,
'There's not enough money to buy a house
And there won't be, not for years.'
I shelved my studies, applied for a job,
The money was not very good,
I'd studied for years, and there was I
In a sawmill, cutting wood.
I suddenly felt resentful then
To be wed to a low-paid nurse,
She'd lost that spark in her eyes that said
I love you, better or worse.
We slowly drifted apart, she'd work
An extra shift when she could,
While I would prowl in the nightclubs
Where the folk were up to no good.
I drank a lot, got bleary eyed,
Came home, hung-over and grim,
While Sylvie began to ignore me,
Often went out as I came in.
One night at a Club, I saw a girl
Blonde hair and the bluest eyes,
Dolled up in a mini skirt so short
It attracted all the guys,
She danced and shimmied around the room
And giggled and seemed like fun,
She made me think of my Sylvie
Now that the spark and the fun had gone.
Each Wednesday night I saw this girl,
But she never looked at me,
I grew obsessed as I followed her,
It compounded my misery.
I'd get up close and she'd whirl away
And dance with another guy,
I'd like to have gone and talked to her
But I guess I was feeling shy.
For weeks I had tried, got close to her
But then couldn't squeeze out a word,
I felt myself falling in love again
But knew that was quite absurd,
For Sylvie was there at the back of my mind,
I couldn't quite block her out,
But then when the blonde whirled past again
My heart would jump into my mouth.
There came the day that I followed her home,
She lived in the burbs, like me,
We both caught the number seventeen
Though she was ahead of me,
I sat at the back and hid myself,
We came to my usual stop,
Then to my surprise, the blonde stood up
Walked down the aisle and got off.
I wasn't that far behind her then
But she hurried away, and ran,
I thought it strange, and increased my pace
But she left me behind at the Strand.
She turned the corner, into my street
But then she had disappeared,
My heart was pounding, I almost ran...
Could it be what I really feared?
I walked unsteadily into the house,
But stopped at the kitchen door,
For there was Sylvie, a wig in her hand
A blonde that I'd seen before,
She grinned at me, popped her contacts out
And said, 'Hi, where have you been? '
Then laughed, and I saw my Sylvie again
As I'd seen her at just nineteen.
We made the most passionate, frantic love
With her blonde wig back in place,
'I thought that I'd teach you a lesson, ' she said,
With a sly look on her face.
And since that day I've been cured of straying,
Each time she comes through the door,
She's a blonde, brunette, a redhead yet...
What red-blooded man could want more?
8 April 2009
poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Oklahoma-Texas Line
Got an old dog, it don't like me much
That thing starts to bark his head off every time we touch
Sittin' on the porch listenin' to the radio
We sing every single song we know
Even the ones we don't
When she moves a little closer
She puts her hand in mine
Oh what I wouldn't give to stop the hands of time
She's got long blonde hair and deep blue eyes
I got all I ever need when at girl is by my side
Everything I love is there inside
A little brick house on the Oklahoma-Texas Line
She's got a part time job at the Tastee-freeze
She took the weekend off to spend a little bit of time with me
I got an old car we drove to the edge of town
We stopped by Old Man Millers' farm
Just to watch the world spin around
And she moves a little closer
She puts her lips to mine
Ain't funny how the good Lord out does himself sometimes
She's got long blonde hair and deep blue eyes
I got all I ever need when at girl is by my side
Everything I love is there inside
A little brick house on the Oklahoma-Texas Line
Everything I love is there inside
A little brick house with a black top drive
Big oak tree with our names carved on the side
She's got long blonde hair and deep blue eyes
I got all I ever need when at girl is by my side
Everything I love is there inside
A little brick house, little brick house on the Oklahoma-Texas Line
Oh here they come
Long blonde hair and deep blue eyes
Everything I love...
song performed by by Rascal Flatts
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One More Cup Of Coffee
Your breath is sweet
Your eyes are like two jewels in the sky.
Your back is straight, your hair is smooth
On the pillow where you lie.
But i don't sense affection
No gratitude or love
Your loyalty is not to me
But to the stars above.
One more cup of coffee for the road,
One more cup of coffee 'fore i go
To the valley below.
Your daddy he's an outlaw
And a wanderer by trade
He'll teach you how to pick and choose
And how to throw the blade.
He oversees his kingdom
So no stranger does intrude
His voice it trembles as he calls out
For another plate of food.
One more cup of coffee for the road,
One more cup of coffee 'fore i go
To the valley below.
Your sister sees the future
Like your mama and yourself.
You've never learned to read or write
There's no books upon your shelf.
And your pleasure knows no limits
Your voice is like a meadowlark
But your heart is like an ocean
Mysterious and dark.
One more cup of coffee for the road,
One more cup of coffee 'fore i go
To the valley below.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One More Cup Of Coffee
Your breath is sweet and weak,
Your eyes are like two jewels in the sky.
Your back is straight, your hair is smooth
On the pillow where you lie.
But I don't sense affection
No gratitude or love
Your loyalty is not to me
But to the stars above.
One more cup of coffee for the road
One more cup of coffee 'fore I go
To the valley below.
Your daddy he's an outlaw
And a wanderer by trade
He'll teach you how to pick and choose
And how to throw the blade
He oversees his kingdom
So no stranger does intrude
His voice it trembles as he calls out
For another plate of food
One more cup of coffee for the road,
One more cup of coffee 'fore I go
To the valley below
Your sister sees the future
Like your mother and yourself
You've never learned to read or write
There's no books upon your shelf.
But your pleasure knows no limits
And your voice is like a meadowlark
Your heart is like the ocean
Mysterious and dark
One more cup of coffee for the road,
One more cup of coffee 'fore I go
To the valley below
song performed by by White Stripes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Romance Never Dies
a boy and girl walking home from school one day.
girl-so what are we doing tonight
boy-i dont know want to watch a movie
girl-sure what are we going to watch?
boy-not sure yet ill think of something
girl-lets watch a romance.
boy-nooo thats boyfriend girlfriend junk.
gurl-(sighs) but umm well...
boy- what? whats rong.
girl-i was just hoping.
boy-what? (confused)
walks to front door
boy-umm oook well ill see you later.
girl- yeah' right cya (frowns) as she walks away
girl goes over boys house and rings the doorbell boy answers
boy-Wow You look GREAT' thought we where just watching a movie.
girl-we are i just thought i would dress up a little.
boy-lol what ever
boy and girl sits on couch.
girl- soo what are we going to watch-gets closer.
boy-idk-backs up.
girl and boy start watching a horror flick
girl-hides face in boys chest.
boy-(smiles) kisses girls head.
girl-smiles back.
girl and boy look into eachers eyes.
boy-moves closer
girl-moves closer
boy and girl start kissing
Boy-i have loved you for so long im glad were togeather.
Girl-i loved you to i mean i love you so much does this mean were dating
Boy-yes and im glad im dating you.
A yr later still dating boy girl get into a fight
Girl-i have to go im sorry please just understand we cant see eacher anymore
Boy-please tell me why did i do something rong?
Girl- no no please just let it be where it is im sorry i love you bye
week after that night
Boy goes over girls house theres a moving truck.
Boy walks up...girl carrying boxes
Boy-why cant we see eacher anymore and whats going on with the trucks
Girl-im moving.
Boy-i noticed
Boy- where you moving to
Girl-Florida ill call you when i get there and settled
Girl- im sorry I have to go (starts to sob/cry)
Guy just stands there and watches girl leave. as a tear rolls down his cheek
3 years later.
Girl in collage now.and has moved on with her life
Girl-hey Alexis what’s up I have to go to Jon’s room he wants to talk to me.
I think he wants to ask me out yay cant wait I have a total crush on him
Alexis - i know... butt hey I have something to tell you.
Girl-what?
Alexis-ok do you remember when you moved about 3 years ago.
Girl- yeah (confused) why? ?
Alexis- remember Chris.
Girl- ummmmmyeah? ? ? ?
Alexis-he is kind of be hind you
Girl-WHAT?
Girl-looks behind her and sees a tall handsome man with long brown hair she smiles as she walks closer to her long lost friend.
Chris-I have waited so long to see you Jessica
Jessica- omg (starts to cry)
Chris-I missed you
Jessica- omg I missed you so much
Chris-I heard..lol
Jessica (blushes) he’s just a friend
Chris-its cool so what are we doing to night? ?
Jessica- omg (blushes once more) smiles and says idk you want to watch a movie.
At the same time Jessica and chris said how bout a romance and they both laughed
Jessica and Chris are now on there 3year in collage and still dating
three years after collage jessica and chris get married and have a baby on the way and they both live happly ever after.
poem by Lynn samantha
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You Are My Love
Oh let me tell you a little story about a heartbreaker.
Honey I don't know why you treat me so bad
Well I tried so hard to make you see it my way
Just think of all the good times we had.
But still you only ever want to fight with me.
We got to split apart before we kill
And start to put our minds together
We got to change this hell for leather world
And I will find myself another girl.
We got to put our weapons down.
And spread a little love around.
You know
You are my love
You are my love
Oh, yes you are
You are my love
You are my love
Ain't you the girl who did me wrong behind my back
And tried to keep me double booked
We never seem to cross the tracks
And there's so much that you over-looked about me girl,
Remember, sat down pretty on the windowsill,
And made me swallow on your bitter pill,
You thought the grass was greener over there,
While serpents snaked around your hair,
So pour a vitriolic coffee cup
And use your blackened heart to fill it up,
Well, now honey we got to put our weapons down
And spread a little love around.
You know
You are my love
You are my love
Oh, yes you are
You are my love
Yes you are
You are my love
You are my love
I want you girl
I need you so
Now we know that
It's no secret
You are my love
You are my world
Light my shwdows
Fill the heavens with stars
You are my love
You are my love
You are my lover
I need you
I want you
Don't let me go
I need you so
Don't let me go
I need you so
Don't let me go (Fade)
I need you so
song performed by by Jamiroquai
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Meeting At Noon
They met at a coffee house
every day at noon.
They chose the same table
in the back of the room.
The aroma of the coffee
filled the air.
And while they smelled it
they continued to stare.
How was it, they wondered
that life could be
filled with remorse
that never let them be?
She, with a husband
whose mind was gone,
he, with a wife
whose body was gone,
They met each day
just to hold hands
and talk about
life's harsh demands.
They could not leave.
They were not that kind
but this meeting at noon
became the focus of their mind.
He watched her cry
and touched her face.
He knew her tears
he could not erase.
She watched him die
a little each day.
They prayed for the smell
of the coffee to stay.
and bring them peace
from these minutes at noon.
She stirred his coffee
and licked the spoon.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Can't Wait
I cant wait till you
try to come back girl
when things they don't
work out for you
who do you think you 're
messing with girl
what do you think
youre trying to do?
First you said I was blind
you certainly took your time
I thought you made up your mind
So many times I've gotten
used to this
this old idea
of being all alone
tell me how I'm supposed to
get through with this?
I wish this house felt like a home
song performed by by White Stripes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Old Girl, A Backwards Dream
he was just sitting there listening, you know...
sitting on the stoop, listening to the old black man
play guitar...
listening to the children playing across the way...
listening to the occasional car, and the way the sunset
clapped against the trees, keeping rhythm.
the old man started singing, low, almost a growl:
'old girl, old girl, where you been so long?
old girl, old girl, where you been so long?
done took the night out of my daytime,
and the darkness out of dawn.
old girl, old girl, why you be that way?
old girl, old girl, why you be that way?
you pack your clothes to travel on,
you dont unpack your clothes to stay...'
he grinned at the old man, 'yeah...'
the smell of streaked meat frying, and coffee
boiling over came from the house...
'how many eggs y'all want? '
the old man started singing again:
'old girl, old girl, why you wanna shake that thing?
old girl, old girl, why you wanna shake that thing?
you lock me out of your house,
why you wanna be so mean? '...
'y'all gonna see mean in a minute, if you dont
get your buts in here and eat..'
'we coming, baby', the old man grinned, slowly sliding
the guitar back in its case.
shaking his head and looking up, he saw an owl,
perched silently on the eaves. pulling down his hat,
he followed the old man in.... the sound of the screen
door slamming echoed in the dusk.
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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