Her Sexuality
Even her mother
never knew
how much
sexuality boiled
beneath the surface
how much
she thought of it
when sitting down
in some cafe
watching men
at some nearby table
fantasizing
about them
dreaming about
what they might do
if she allowed
or while sitting
at the office typing
her mind on things
which’d make
her mother blush
the mighty rush
of images
and desires
and old Mr Fleet
talking to her
about some work
not knowing that fires
burned beneath
her flesh and skirt
that she made love
to herself
while in bed
while others slept
and even Kennedy
the office ram
would have choked
on things she did
in dreams or wrote
in her locked up diary
and once
when some girlfriend
of her brother’s
stayed the night
and shared her room
and bed
she fantasised
of touching
and turning over
and kissing
all in the mind
she told herself
just one of those things
and even later
when she finally married
and lay beside him
at night having
sucked him dry
she’d stared
out the window
at the silver moon
in the dark sky.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Musing over Latte.
Floptin sits outside
the cafe on the mall
and watches the three
plump dames sitting nearby
one slightly plumper
than the others
and as he stares
it reminds him
of his first lady
the one who showed him
the ropes of sexuality
who sucked away
his innocence one night
and he recalls
how liberated
he felt back then
how her plump flesh
flapped against him
and the sound was like
nothing he had heard before
and she said to him
sweet boy
you're a man now
you can tell your friends
you have made the grade
and now sitting at the cafe
on the mall
watching the plump dames
feeding her mouths
their chins moving
their eyes excited
their voices booming
and their laughter
sexual and loud
and looking at
the plumpest dame
how her hair
was pulled back
so and so
he smiles to himself
and wonders how
she'd make him feel
with her flesh flapping
and her eyes aglow.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
But She Knew
But I know
she said
that you love me
and you were sitting
by the pond
you with that cheap fishing rod
which caught nothing
and she sitting there
her hands over her knees
gazing at the still surface
even if you don’t
say it often
she added
laying her chin
on her knees
her green skirt
just above her knees
and you caught
a glimpse of her thighs
where the skirt rose up
I do you love
you said
holding the rod
between hands
it’s just I don’t see the need
to keep on saying it
you added
stretching your eyes
to go as far
as they could
to get a better look
and she said
why do you come here
to fish when you catch
nothing except a cold
in the neck
and stiff joints
and do you want a smoke?
She pulled out
a pack of cigarettes
and you let a hand free
from the rod
and took one
and she put one
between her lips
and lit it with a pink
plastic lighter
then lit yours
and you both
inhaled and exhaled
the smoke rising
over the pond
seeming to sit there
in the still air
and she said
between drags
I do know you love me
I can feel it
in my bones
and in my tingling
flesh at night
as I lay abed
and you thought
of that image
knowing her mother
would be about
the house
with her stern features
and sharp tongue
and beady eyes
but the image was good
you thought
sitting there beside her
in silence
with the drifting smoke
over the pond
and her hand
touching you
and the sky
turning from
dull grey
to a soft blue.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Late night driven by
Late night
And i´m sitting here
Watching the dark road pass me by
Trough the car window, there´s him
And then there´s me
Late night
And i´m sitting here
Thinking about the random things that cross my mind
Next to me, there´s him
And then there´s me
Late night
Driving trough the loneliness of the night
Watching my life before my eyes
There´s him and
Then there´s me
Late night
And the radio is the only thing
We can possibly hear at this moment
There´s him and then there´s me
This silence is striking
Late night
Tried falling asleep
There´s him
There´s me
I wonder if he knows that
There is you.
poem by Nina gáspari
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Watching For Pa
Three little forms in the twilight gray,
Searching the shadows across the way;
Two pair of black eyes, and one of blue --
Brimful of love, and of mischief too;
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Sitting by the window,
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Sitting by the window,
Watching for Pa!
May, with her placid and thoughtful brow,
Beaming with kindness and love just now;
Willie the youngest, in anguish did lay,
Stealing sly kisses from sister May,
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Sitting by the window,
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Sitting by the window,
Watching for Pa!
Nellie, with ringlets of sunny hue,
Cosily nested between the two;
Pressing her cheeks to the window pane,
Wishing the absent one home again.
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Sitting by the window,
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Sitting by the window,
Watching for Pa!
Now there are shouts from the window seat;
There is a patter of childish feet;
Gaily they rush through the lighted hall --
"Coming at last" is the joyful call.
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Standing on the doorstep,
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Standing on the doorstep,
Watching for Pa!
poem by Henry Clay Work
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Forgetting About You
I always thought I could do anything I put my mind to, but back then it didn't seem to be true, because the one thing I could never do was truly forget about you
I knew nothing could happen, I knew our love was forbidden but back then I was so young and naive I couldn't help but be smitten
Now a days I think about what could've been and what I sometimes still want to be, but I know I'm not fooling anyone not even myself you see, because there never really was a YOU AND ME
There were days when my heart ached for you and days where my head told me to wait for you
But those days are over and I've got things to do, I've got goals to reach, that I won't reach if I'm still sitting around crying broken hearted over you
I haven't thought about your smile in a long, long while or reminisced about the moments we shared, or spent all night worrying about if you ever really cared
I always thought I could do anything I put my mind to, and that to this day holds true, because I did the thing I never thought I could do
I Finally Forgot About You
poem by Tiger Lily Love
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Same Mother
They each shared
the same mother
shared the same loss of her
when the time came
gave the same
last wave
when she was
driven off
to crematorium
and then grave
but each had
their own mother
whom they shared
with no other
one with whom
they shared
a particular time
or place
sitting quietly
face to face
sharing a secret
or confessing
a deed done
or just
the mother to child meeting
with just the two
at some given time
at some particular place
some given year
to share a problem
or tears or anxieties
or deeper fears
and knowing
she would listen
as only mother's can
or do
sharing the time and love
with each particular
person called you
whether daughter or son
she shared
her equal love and time
and yet each knew her
each thought
they knew her best
and carried away
their own best times
in her company
without the rest
their own moments shared
but deep down
they knew
she had her love for each
and each was equal
to the rest
for she never had
a favourite
nor considered
any one the best
so they all shared
the same mother
in the end
all grieved her going
each in their own way
hoping or believing
they would share her
once again
some better place
some future day.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
How Mother Looked
You want to look how Mother looked.
Makeup she used to use lies on her
Dressing table in the room father has
Had locked up. You have secreted the
Key and unlocked and closing the door,
Are sitting facing your image in the mirror’s
Glass you’ve propped against a chair. You
Do not have your mother’s hair. You have
Her eyes, Father said, although he says it
Less now since her death, as if stealing
From the dead. You want to transform
Yourself into her; be the woman she was;
Have her beauty; have her smile; her gentle
Manner. Cancer took her like thief at night;
Reduced her to a bag of bones and hanging
Skin, pale and thin. Forget that image, Father
Chides, cast it away, lock behind the mind’s
Dark doors. You want to look how Mother
Looked before her sad demise, before cold
Cancer’s deceit and lies. Still a child, Father
Says, you have all your life to live; leave your
Grief behind, but you want to be as Mother
Was, like the coloured picture in your mind.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Girl Who Held Your Hand
You got on the coach
for the day trip
organized by the chapel people
for kids who were poor
and this girl
sat next to you
and said
you can be my boyfriend
for the day
and she took hold
of your hand
and gave it a squeeze
and you looked out
of the window
at your mother
standing there
looking up at the coach
and you thought
is this part of the deal?
Is this girl for real?
And Mother waved
and smiled
and you smiled
uneasily back
with the girl’s hand
holding yours
out of sight
and she looked
over your shoulder
and waved
but no one
waved back to her
because her mother
wasn’t there
maybe she was off somewhere
or had to go to work
or maybe
she was still in bed
with another uncle
beneath the sheets
and maybe
he was holding her hand
and she was holding
something you never knew
or cared about
just sitting there
waving to Mother
beneath a sky of blue.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Afternoon Sun
This room, how well I know it.
Now they're renting it, and the one next to it,
as offices. The whole house has become
an office building for agents, businessmen, companies.
This room, how familiar it is.
The couch was here, near the door,
a Turkish carpet in front of it.
Close by, the shelf with two yellow vases.
On the right -no, opposite- a wardrobe with a mirror.
In the middle the table where he wrote,
and the three big wicker chairs.
Beside the window the bed
where we made love so many times.
They must still be around somewhere, those old things.
Beside the window the bed;
the afternoon sun used to touch half of it.
. . . One afternoon at four o'clock we separated
for a week only . . . And then-
that week became forever.
poem by Constantine P. Cavafy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Hasty Marriage
Burden of a Hasty Marriage.
He saw her at the cafe she a cup of cacao and eating a cream cake,
he had a sandwich with cheese and ham. She looked up and smiled,
he knew she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.
Shy, as he was, still found the courage to get up and walk over to her
table and ask if he could eat his modest sandwich with her; she said
yes and they sat there in silence, just eating. Dimly he knew he had to
say something, but couldn’t but couldn’t find the words so he ate
the cup and saucer, the table cloth, serviettes and crumbs of her cake,
when he began eating the table she told him to stop. Ice broken he said
he loved her, she said she loved him, not to waste time they got married
in the afternoon. Found a hotel room and stayed in bed for a fortnight.
Made love in every position one could think of; they even forgot to eat.
Entwined they slept until a knock on the door, something about paying
for the room. For him was a welcomed distraction, got up had to go to
his bank he told her, two weeks in bed it stunk like a pig sty. Paid his bill
but didn’t enter their room, he was cured of love based on sex alone
poem by Oskar Hansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Dark Skies
Never trust dark skies,
Mother says, sitting next
To you in her wheelchair
Aged and infirm, her mind
Shot through with senility;
And you remember her telling
You, that as a young girl, she
Would walk with her mother
And younger siblings, to take
Her father’s Sunday roast dinner,
Hidden in the compartment of
The pram beneath her two baby
Sisters, to the work place where
He waited, and her mother saying,
Make sure the others do not make
Off Etty, and your mother as she
Was then, with her big blue eyes
And long curly hair, having that look
About her, as if she could see her
Father’s death in 1936, and him no
Longer waiting, no longer waiting for
Them all patiently and hungrily there.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Things That Dreams Are Made Of
Take time to see the wonders of the world
To see the things youve only ever heard of
Dream life the way you think it ought to be
See things you thought youd never ever see
Take a cruise to china
Or a train to spain
Go round the world
Again and again
Meet a girl on a boat
Meet a boy on a train
And fall in love
Without the pain
Everybody needs love and adventure
Everybody needs cash to spend
Everybody needs love and affection
Everybody needs 2 or 3 friends
These are the things
These are the things
The things that dreams are made of
These are the things
These are the things
The things that dreams are made of
Take a lift to the top of the empire state
Take a drive across the golden gate
March, march, march across red square
Do all the things youve ever dared
Everybody needs love and adventure
Everybody needs cash to spend
Everybody needs love and affection
Everybody needs 2 or 3 friends
These are the things
These are the things
The things that dreams are made of
These are the things
These are the things
The things that dreams are made of
Like fun and money and food and love
And things you never thought of
These are the things
These are the things
The things that dreams are made of
New york, ice cream, tv, travel, good times
Norman wisdom, johnny, joey, dee dee, good times
These are the things
These are the things
The things that dreams are made of
These are the things
These are the things
The things that dreams are made of
These are the things
These are the things
The things that dreams are made of
These are the things
These are the things
The things that dreams are made of
These are the things
These are the things
The things that dreams are made of
These are the things
These are the things
The things that dreams are made of
song performed by by Human League
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Secret Door
The Mystery
Nadia, gentle zephyr of remembrance, where are you now?
In my mother’s flat there were three doors, the first door,
with an old fashion copper handle, often slammed in anger.
The second door into mother’s bed room was never closed,
but covered with a dark curtain. A small flat I slept on a sofa
in the living room.
There was a third door, from her bedroom into the kitchen.
Sometimes when mother was out, I tried to open it but it was
always locked. There were nights when I wasn’t sure if awake
or not, the locked door opened as a sigh of ancient dreams.
Dawn, I heard the faint sound again, but I was too terrified to
know the truth of what I wasn’t sure of
Morning, mother got up boiled water poured it into a bowl so
I could wash my face. Breakfast, slices of yesterday’s loaf with
strawberry jam and milky coffee. I wanted to know of the sighs
in the night, but sensed it was forbidden to ask.
Time has many doors some will be forever locked, so I ask?
Nadia, gentle zephyr of remembrance, where are you now?
poem by Oskar Hansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Thinking of You
Sitting here on this cold night I think of you
Sitting here looking into the sky I see your face
Sitting here thinking I think of your voice
Sitting here I watch the stars I smile at the thought of seeing you soon
Being here without you I feel the emptiness sinking into my heart
Being out here without your warmth I think of how I will feel your warmth someday
Being here in the night that is so dark I force a smile to show on my face
Being here I think of how this will just make the day I see you even better
Thinking of you can always changes the day from bad to good in a second
Thinking of you makes a smile appear that has been hidden
Thinking of you lightens the dark night's sky
Thinking of you makes me get through the day
Talking to you always makes me forget all my troubles
Talking to you makes my surroundings melt into a dream
Talking to you always puts me in a good mood even when we have nothing to say
Talking to you always gives me something to look forward to. I love you.
poem by Bethany Maxwell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Dream A Little Dream For Me
At night when you think through your day
Think on the things that you did say
When you think through the things that you should be
Dream this little dream for me
Dream of blue skies forever
Dream that we are a worthy endeavor
Dream this one dream so you can see
Dream this little dream for me
The world fades but I'm still here
Still living for you
I'm sitting outside beneath the sky clear
Just enjoying your view
Sleep well until morning comes
Live with the passion of a thousand suns
Tell me all the things that you should be
And dream this little dream for me
Dream of you through my eyes
Dream though it may not be much of a surprise
That while you dream enjoying the view
I'm dreaming a little dream for you.
Yes, dreaming a dream for you!
poem by Jack Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
It's The Things You Do
Chorus:
It's the things you do
That have made me fall
So in love with you
You can have it all
What else can I do
Nothin' left to prove
It's the things you do
(It's the things you do)
You touched my love line
So deep inside I
Never thought I'd feel so good
Oh no
No need to hide now
Open up your mind now
Let me make it understood
Because
Bridge:
Cos nobody ever said to me
All of the things we shared within
Now that I know that you can see
Let me fill you up
Chorus
(It's the things you do)
You and me baby like the ABC
K-I-S-S-I-N-G
Could it be unity
I need like J Hoffa
Romance your body
Work it out - mm proper
One of the finest
Things on my mind is
How you make me feel like gold queen Midas
Straight A plus the material I bust
But the things that you do
Keep me up and it's a must
Bridge
It's the things you do
That have made me fall
So in love with you
You can have it all
What else can I do (what else can I do)
Nothin' left to prove (baby nothing left to prove)
It's the things you do
That have made me fall
So in love with you
You can have it all
What else can I do
Nothin' left to prove
(It's the things you do)
Give me a chance and let me in
There's no need to hide what's there within
Now that I know that you can see
Let me fill you up
You got that Midas touch
I love you more than enough
For all the things that you do
It's the things you do
So in love with you
You can have it all
What else can I do
Nothin' left to prove
It's the things you do
song performed by by Five
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Mother day
My mother poem
Created by: Rong Lin
My dearest mother
You are far away from me
I was close to you
You are in my heart
I couldn’t be here without you
I will thank you so much
You make my life goes good
You are my angel
You kept my life go easy
I knew your hard work
I feel miserable
I feel tearful
Thank you mother
I love my mother so much
Mother I know you do so much things for us
We never ever forget about that
We will keep it in mind forever
We want you to have a great mother day
I love you my mom
The Summer Recess of 62.
It was the second day
of the summer recess
and Judith and you
walked through the field
behind her house
and sat down on the grass
the sky above blue
like an upside-down ocean
with the white clouds
like small fluffy islands
and she said
Mother doesn't trust you
why not?
you asked
she doesn't trust any male
she says they're all after
the one thing
you looked at her
sitting there beside you
her hair brown and curly
and her eyes blue
and bright
and you said
not all males
are the same
she looked up
at the sky
and said
I know but that's
how she sees things
my mother likes you
you said
she says you're good for me
keep me focused
she smiled
and lay back
on the grass
and you lay
beside her
and turned
to look at her there
taking in her profile
and she turned
to face you
and she said
does your mother
trust us to be together?
sure she does
you said
an airplane
went over the sky
a sparrow hawk
hovered above
its eyes watching
and waiting
you put your hand
on her hip
and she placed
her hand on yours
you felt her hipbone
beneath her green skirt
moved your palm
gently over and over
she moved your hand
off of her hip
and said
just in case
mother's looking at us
from the upstairs window
would she?
you asked
of course
she said
she held your hand
and took it
and laid it
on her breast
her heart
somewhere beating
your hand sensing
the softness beneath
the white blouse
and she said
just as well
she never saw us
last Christmas
and you smiled
and remembered
and the sparrow hawk
flew off through the sky
and the sound
of a distant train
and your heart thumping
like the downpour of rain.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Silver Satin Wings
I dont mean to be bad, said the bubble headed blonde,
And it was probably true.
But what else can you do when looks are all people notice
And looks are all that they want, too.
And now shes sitting in the bedroom and shes crying
Now she lies beneath his silver satin
Wings cause she was never raised to know any better
Because he is the best thing she has ever seen
And papa said shes too cute for words
So she never learned how to speak
And mama said she dont need to read
Just a hot mercedes and a decent man that wont (spring a leak)?
So now shes sitting in the bedroom and shes crying
Now she lies beneath his silver satin wings
Cause she was never raised to know any better
Because he is the best thing she has ever seen
In school all she learned that talk is cheap
But looks they come for free
They said hey, why try and think girl, if you can smile
And get anything you need?
So now shes sitting in the bedroom and shes crying
Now she lies beneath his silver satin wings
Cause she was never raised to know any better
Because he is the best thing she has ever seen
She said sometimes theres this fear inside
That cannot sleep at night, though he is sleeping fine
And I used to like the way he talked
Before I knew promises were just other words for goodbye.
See now shes sitting in the bedroom and shes crying
As she lies beneath his silver satin wings
Cause she was never raised to know any better
Because he is the best thing she
He is the best thing she will ever see.
song performed by by Jewel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
In mother’s lap
In mother’s lap,
A baby finds the world
A world that puts her to sleep of peace & love
And makes her all dreams sweet
The night dancing
Over the little bay happily,
The wind is passing by
Touching her chubby and sweet cheeks,
And gives her the best kiss
So she won’t find any horrible risk,
And all she can have is her sound sleep,
She is not dreaming of a big world,
But a world full of love,
And the mother singing a lullaby
To her
So she won’t have any bad thought
In her mind
And she can have not a sleep only
But the good thought
To make her sleep sweeter
poem by Pushkar Bisht
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!