Janette and You and the Slapped Face.
Janette Richie
didn't like you much
as was shown
that time
in Mr Finn's class
when she slapped
your face
for something you'd said
leaving you
with a spinning head
and a red cheek
but that aside
and her rather
plump frame
and maybe spectacles
you kind of like
her motherliness
the bossiness
around the class
the way she walked
the wiggly ass
but whatever it was
you'd said to her
to invite the slap
it was just a string
of words carrying
no malice or meaning
to hurt and the sensation
of her hand of flesh
touching your
young boy's cheek
a nearness
she hadn't thought on
or given any deeper
probe than the desire
to swipe an annoying boy
not realizing
that the gesture
and the plump hand
landing had more
than a momentary
feel or touch
you there after kind of
liked her in your
secret way
never repeating
the words said
about her plumpish
frame or swaying ass
or the spectacles
of thick glass
and maybe the other
boys laughed
and thought it some
joke of misjudgement
on your part
but you found
a secret place for her
in your nine year old
heart.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
My Dad's Spectacles
Thick frame, thin glasses,
An old spectacles,
A keep sake,
An inheritance rarest
From my dad dearest.
Crises, tensions, frustrations…..
Struggles, triumphs, delights…..
On my dad’s spectacles
Life its imprints left,
Which often I felt alone left.
Betrayed never;
Guided ever;
Mate of eyes;
Nothing could part,
Except an attack on heart.
Once, he saw me,
Now, him I see,
All through the same spectacles,
Black and white,
A buttress to sight.
FABIYAS M V
poem by Fabiyas M V
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Words Sometimes Take On A Own Meaning
Words sometimes take on a own meaning
and sometimes they are sharp and painful
as if there is much more to words
as if a kind of secret knowledge hides in them
that are sometimes something moving.
Words sometimes take on a own meaning
but somehow words can at times miss things
and are sometimes dependent on feelings
as if there is much more to words
when through it all love brings a kind of bonding
and so you and I are attractive to each other.
Words sometimes take on a own meaning
and daily a bond develops between us,
while you become more considerable to me,
as if there is much more to words
you constantly live in my thoughts,
while love becomes real through words.
Words sometimes take on a own meaning
as if there is much more to words…
poem by Gert Strydom
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Hope For The Future
(music: marillion lyrics: john helmer)
Ive been feeling kind of down and loose
Like a rosicrucian pope
Head down deep in the womb of time
Carrying a message of hope
My hands steady as a hangmans hands
Surer than the hangmans rope
I could sleep for invisible years
Carrying a message of hope
For the future
For the future
Carrying a message
Carrying a message
Carrying a message
Message of hope
Ive been feeling kind of down and loose
Like a rosicrucian pope
Head down deep in the womb of time
Carrying a message of hope
My hands steady as a hangmans hands
Surer than the hangmans rope
I could sleep for invisible years
Carrying a message of hope
For the future
For the future
I found a power on a dusty shelf
Hey!-the languages I learned
Now Im so powerful I hurt myself
I hurt myself
I feel kind of limbie brain
Like the library of an astronaut
Found hidden in a pyramid
Shadowing a body of thought
Carrying a message
Message of hope
Madam Im adam, Im a palindrome
Never odd or even any time
Fishin and smilin like a garden gnome
Twisting tales and spinning lines
Spinning lines
Twisting tales
Why dont we twist like we did last year?
Carrying, carrying a message
Message of hope
song performed by by Marillion
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Question of Love.
After climbing off
the school bus
she grabbed the sleeve
of your coat and said
I want to talk to you
and so you stayed behind
as your sister and hers
walked on ahead
and her brothers ran off
in a game of tag
she released your sleeve
and brushed the hair
out of her eyes
what is it? you asked
walking beside her
along the side of the road
the winter afternoon darkening
what was Roland
saying to you in class?
she asked
Roland?
yes Roland
in the last lesson of maths?
you looked over
at the tall trees
becoming tall giants
as the sky began to dim
he was talking about his sister
you said
then why was he looking at me?
perhaps he finds you attractive
you replied
she slapped your arm
with her hand
don't talk nonsense
he wouldn't find
Marilyn Monroe attractive
if she sat
on his bony knees
she said looking at you
with her big blue eyes
you rubbed
your injured arm
playfully
he was saying his sister
had found his collection
of dirty magazines under his bed
you said
a car whizzed by
and she turned
and shouted back at it
some words her mother
would have slapped her
for saying
she sighed and said
why can't you tell me the truth?
you stopped and stood facing her
her blue eyes gazing at you
searching yours
as if she'd left something there
on a previous occasion
he said he didn't know
what I saw in you
her eyes enlarged
and what did you say?
she asked
in the sky over her shoulder
the moon was beginning to shine
in competition
with the weak sun
I said you snogged
pretty good
you said
she slapped your arm
and walked on
no
you called out
I was only joking
she stopped
and turned
and glared at you
I said you were the best thing
to happen to me
since God created Sundays
you're lying
she said
all right
you said
seeing her eyes watering
I said I loved you
you said
looking at her
wondering if her hand
might slap you again
did you?
yes
and what did he say?
she asked
he just shrugged
his shoulders
and drew a picture
of Mr Parrot on the corner
of his maths book
she was silent
and looked by you
at the incoming traffic
then kissed your cheek
leaving a damp patch
like a small oasis
on a dry landscape
of your 14 year old skin
conjuring up images
her mother
would define as sin.
poem by Terry Collett
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In The Art Class
I look around this joyful room,
Amongst the peaceful teens
This is perhaps the only class
Where students are not machines
In the art class they’ll smile
In the art class they’ll yell
In the art class they‘ll be kind
And not raise a hell
Many teachers wonder why this is so
Many teachers wonder where the secret lies
The secret to peaceful teens, which enjoy their work
The secret to the students without depressed cries
The students wonder how they could not get it
How they could not understand
How the teachers don’t realise
That in the art room there are no demands
In the maths class there are complications
In the English room there is language
But in the art room there is only creativity
It is that which students which to salvage
The art teacher is simple and kind
The art teacher doesn’t lecture or scream
The art teacher doesn’t force them to be equal
And make a most horrendous scene
No, in the art class they are not equal
But the differences they admire
They have a writer, a painter and a sculptor
And they have freedom to aspire
Freedom is what the students wish
The students wish to be treated like people
In the art class they are treated as such
In other classes they are believed incapable
The students will always be at peace in the art room
There will be no fights, no pain, and no scorn
The other teachers will wonder what the secret is
But their attempts to find out will always be forlorn
poem by Lenore Lee
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Any World That I'm Welcome To
If I had my way I would move to another time;
I'd quit my job, ride the train through the misty night-time.
I'll be ready when my feet touch the ground, wherever I come down,
And if the folks will have me, then they'll have me.
Any world that I'm welcome to [any kind of world]
Any world that I'm welcome to
Any world that I'm welcome to
Is better than the one I come from.
I can hear your words when you speak of what you are and have seen;
I can see your hand reaching out through a shining daydream.
Where the days and nights are not the same, captured happy in a picture frame;
Honey, I will be there, yes, I'll be there.
[chorus]
I got this thing inside me that's got to find a place to hide me.
I only know I must obey this feeling I can't explain away.
I think I'll go to the park, watch the children playing;
Perhaps I'll find in my head what my heart is saying.
A vision of a child returning, in a kingdom where the sky is burning;
Honey, I will be there, yes, I'll be there.
[chorus]
Is better than the one I come from.
Is better than the one I come from.
Any world that I'm welcome to. [any kind of world] x ad lib [fade]
song performed by by Steely Dan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In Mrs Clarke's Wake
Mrs Clarke pushed
her battered bassinet
between market stalls
not listening
to the stallholder's
shouts and calls
Helen walked behind her mother
as told holding your hand
So I know where you are
Mrs Clarke had said
you sensed
Helen's small hand
in yours
her seven year old skin
touching your
seven year old flesh
her thin fingers
encircling yours
We'll see if they've got
a school skirt
for you here
her mother said
turning back her head
Helen nodded
and you noticed
Helen's enlarged eyes
behind her thick lens
spectacles
searching her mother's
large behind waddling on
stopping now and then
beside stalls
picking up clothes
searching for a skirt or dress
grey and the right size
Helen whispered to you
putting her head
close to yours
Rice pudding for tea
when we get home
with red jam
and sugar too
if you want
and she smiled
and you said shyly
That's good
because I'm starving
she looked at your hand
in hers and said
Then we can play
mums and dads
and my dolls
can be our family
her mother stopped
and picked up a skirt
and held it up
to the light
then held it against
her daughter's waist
judging for size
and you watched
her mother's hands
red with washing
and cleaning
thinking and gauging
the size and cost
as you studying
Helen's hand in yours
like a soul lost.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Romance
To clasp you now and feel your head close-pressed,
Scented and warm against my beating breast;
To whisper soft and quivering your name,
And drink the passion burning in your frame;
To lie at full length, taut, with cheek to cheek,
And tease your mouth with kisses till you speak
Love words, mad words, dream words, sweet senseless words,
Melodious like notes of mating birds;
To hear you ask if I shall love always,
And myself answer: Till the end of days;
To feel your easeful sigh of happiness
When on your trembling lips I murmur: Yes;
It is so sweet. We know it is not true.
What matters it? The night must shed her dew.
We know it is not true, but it is sweet --
The poem with this music is complete.
poem by Claude McKay
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When 2 Souls Touch
It's a natural feeling
And it always comes easy
Like a gentle summer breeze
Blowing softly through my mind
When I feel the sensation
It's not a one night temptation
With an imprint of your love
That will linger for all times
Now your touching secret places
No ones touched before
And I wanna feel you deep inside
Forever mi amour
Baby when 2 souls touch (when our souls touch)
There's no way that you can escape from the rush (the rush)
I'm under your power just like a flower (I'm ready baby)
Who's ready to open up
When 2 souls touch
ooohhhhhhhh
haaaaaaaaa
For your love that i'm living
All the joy that your giving
The new light in my life
Prayed for you so many nights
There's no words to express it
So i'd rather not dress it
Like the shadows on the wall
Speak they eliquence of love
Now your touching secret places
No ones touched before
And I wanna feel you deep inside
Forever mi amour
Baby when 2 souls touch (Baby...The way you touch me yea)
There's no way that you can escape from the rush (No way there's no way boo)
I'm under your power just like a flower (Under your power)
Who's ready to open up
When 2 souls touch
Loving you constantly
Seems to be all i need
My only thought
My one desire
When your loves deep inside
Feels so good i could cry
Tears of joy
Like raindrops from the sky
From my eyes
song performed by by Olivia
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Homage to Hieronymus Bosch
A woman with no face walked into the light;
A boy, in a brown-tree norfolk suit,
Holding on
Without hands
To her seeming skirt.
She stopped,
And he stopped,
And I, in terror, stopped, staring.
Then I saw a group of shadowy figures behind her.
It was a wild wet morning
But the little world was spinning on.
Liplessly, somehow, she addressed it:
The book must be opened
And the park too.
I might have tittered
But my teeth chattered
And I saw that the words, as they fell,
Lay, wriggling, on the ground.
There was a stir of wet wind
And the shadowy figures began to stir
When one I had thought dead
Filmed slowly out of his great effigy on a tomb near by
And they all shuddered
He bent as if to speak to the woman
But the nursery governor flew up out of the well of Saint Patrick,
Confiscated by his mistress,
And, his head bent,
Staring out over his spectacles,
And scratching the gravel furiously, Hissed -
The words went pingg! like bullets,
Upwards, past his spectacles
Say nothing, I say, say nothing, say nothing!
And he who had seemed to be coming to life
Gasped,
Began hysterically, to laugh and cry,
And, with a gesture of impotent and half-petulant despair,
Filmed back into his effigy again.
High above the Bank of Ireland
Unearthly music sounded,
Passing westwards.
Then, from the drains,
Small sewage rats slid out.
They numbered hundreds of hundreds, tens, thousands.
Each bowed obsequiously to the shadowy figures
Then turned and joined in a stomach dance with his brothers and sisters.
Being a multitude, they danced irregularly.
There was rat laughter, Deeper here and there,
And occasionally she-rats grew hysterical.
The shadowy figures looked on, agonized.
The woman with no face gave a cry and collapsed.
The rats danced on her
And on the wriggling words
Smirking.
The nursery governor flew back into the well
With the little figure without hands in the brown-tree clothes.
poem by Thomas MacGreevy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Nearness matters
It is not necessary that a woman
should be a sex appeal or a virgin,
or of some class to your desire.
Your nearness and her loneliness
can bring you both together soon.
Given time and secret moments,
The feat is accomplished in no time.
03.05.2001, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Secret Heart
Thanks to [email protected] for these lyrics.
Secret heart what are you made of?
What are you so afraid of?
Could it be three simple words
Or the fear of being overheard
What's wrong?
Let her in on your secret heart
Secret heart, why so mysterious?
Why so secret, why so serious?
Maybe you're just acting tough
Maybe you're just not bad enough
What's wrong?
Let her in on your secret heart
(Bridge) 2x
This very secret you're trying to conceal
Is the very same one you're dying to reveal
Go tell her how you feel
Secret heart come out and share it
This loneliness, few can bear it
Could it have something to do with
Admitting that you just can't
Go through it alone?
Let her in on your secret heart
Let her in on your secret heart
song performed by by Rod Stewart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Novocaine
When I was ten, fell out of bed
Got three stitches in my head
It hurt like hell
I saw the blood, I felt the pain
I'd like to feel it once again
'Cause I don't feel it
Then I got stung, right on the face
I screamed and ran around the place
It hurt like hell
I swelled right up, I burned for days
I'd like to feel it once again
Cause when you touch me
When you hold me
When you kiss me
I don't feel anything
When you touch me
When you hold me
When you kiss me
It's just like Novocaine
I remember every cut and scrape
I've been numb so long
Something's wrong
So I'll take anything
I slap my face, I pull my hair
Just to see if something's there
It should hurt like hell
I miss the pinch, I miss the pain
That shock sensation in my brain
Cause when you touch me
When you hold me
When you kiss me
I don't feel anything
When you touch me
When you hold me
When you kiss me
I don't feel anything
When you touch me (When you touch me)
When you hold me (When you hold me)
When you kiss me
I don't feel it
When you touch me (When you touch me)
When you hold me (When you hold me)
When you kiss me
It's just like Novocaine
I don't feel anything
I don't feel it
I don't feel it
I don't feel it
Well, I don't feel it
No, I don't feel it
I don't feel it
song performed by by Alice Cooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Not To Mention
I don't know why it occurred
I just looked at the sky and murmured
I took little sand from the ground and whispered
Put over head and silently uttered
'You were all along my inspiration'
I used to tell her when was at high peak with relation
She will smile and offer no words
But yes she remained my world
I lived beautiful moments in her company
She was never known to so many
Except me and few more to whom I knew
She was indeed exceptional creature to view
Very liberal, innocent and kind at heart
She was on earth as beautiful art
A rare combination of beauty with intelligence
I used to take pride in her presence
'You will miss me so much one day'
She woke me up from deep sleep to say
Will it happen in days to come?
I was sore at thought and did not welcome
Things have moved rapidly
I hardly remember it vividly
She is no more with me today
But she has shown me the way
I wish to write words from my heart
I take pen in hand and make good start
Comparing her to that of moon
But rub and over write something soon
She can't be put in exact words with imagination
She is holding my hand for not to make any revelation
'We are not for people's fancy and cruel joke'
She may suddenly come before eyes and disappear in smoke
'Yes you are absolutely right'
My tearful eyes may try to see the light
She will make no move to go away
I have found her in me but not to mention in any way
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mozambique
I like to spend some time in mozambique
The sunny sky is aqua blue
And all the couples dancing cheek to cheek.
Its very nice to stay a week or two.
Theres lots of pretty girls in mozambique
And plenty time for good romance
And everybody likes to stop and speak
To give the special one you seek a chance
Or maybe say hello with just a glance.
Lying next to her by the ocean
Reaching out and touching her hand,
Whispering your secret emotion
Magic in a magical land.
And when its time for leaving mozambique,
To say goodbye to sand and sea,
You turn around to take a final peek
And you see why its so unique to be
Among the lovely people living free
Upon the beach of sunny mozambique.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Secrets
I told her all my secrets.
Once started they came out almost by themselves and she acted so enchanted it was easy to just keep going on and on.
I told her about my first kiss, about my stealing grapes from the grocery store, one grape, is all it was, but I never forgot taking it. I told her about the time I told a lie to make myself seem more important than I was.
I had never been to Russia. But I said I did to impress my friends. I told her of times I had been quiet when I should have spoken up, of that moment of cowardice when I should have helped my friend when the gang caught us. I didn't help. I ran and they caught him. I didn't go back to help.
I revealed what I think about at night when I am going to sleep, my little vanities and self-deceptions because they seem harmless. I told her about the little mean things I've done and the day I learned that you could lie if it was small one and it kept someone from feeling hurt; of the secret anxieties i felt and the loves I lost and never knew why, of how I worry about being in shape all the time and the times in my twenties when I looked everywhere in faces on the street, in magazines, among strangers asking myself are you The One? I told her that quest never ended-I simply shortened the voyage because long quests can be tiring.
I told her of my secret desire to impress her by telling her my secrets; no pretending to tell her secrets so as to get her to tell me her secrets and this was my ultimate secret which, of course was no secret at all, since I told.
She laughed saying 'I know but the gesture, I thought was sweet.'
So, I said, 'Do you have pretend secrets for me? ' 'Sure, ' she said, 'but I will mix in the telling some real ones, like you did, and we can then both guess which ones were true. A little mystery never hurt anyone.'
So she began to reciprocate tellling me her first kiss was through a screen door and her mother asked what was wrong with her lips, about never realizing until she was ten that it went in... there.. About the shock of all of it. About the time she saw her mother and dad doing it. She told me about the first time which was very very short, and the boy who was afraid and fumbly. About her first push-em-bra and lace underthings she bought at Victoria's Secret and the party where some one felt her up in the dark and she let him. About her belief that she had lived in some previous life and remembered bits and pieces of it.
About how she thought when getting her period that she was dying and didn't tell anyone until her mother discovered the blood. Her first boy friend who was sweet and a virgin and so was she. She thought you could get pregnant from tonguing when kissing; about her first O and how it scared her; how she looked in the mirror afterwards to she if she had changed; about how scared she was when it came time to deliver the baby.
We talked for hours, mostly about the secrets but ultimately we started to share dreams. She wanted to be a ballerina but had to give it up. I wanted to be a sports star, but too short. We share dreams gains and lost, mostly lost, given up for a good job or the quest for one or for family and kids.
From that first 'she called my number by mistake call' we call once a year, in secret of course, and share some more. We've never met. Don't need to. I already know all her secrets and she knows mine.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In Another Land
In another land where the breeze and the
Trees and flowers were blue
I stood and held your hand.
And the grass grew high and the feathers floated by
I stood and held your hand.
And nobody else's hand will ever do
Nobody else will do
Then I awoke
Was this some kind of joke
Much to my surprise
I opened my eyes.
We walked across the sand and the sea and
The sky and the castles were blue.
I stood and held your hand.
And the spray flew high and the feathers floated by
I stood and held your hand.
And nobody else's hand will ever do
Nobody else will do
Then I awoke
Was this some kind of joke
Much to my surprise
When I opened my eyes.
We heard the trumpets blow and the sky
Turned red when I accidently said
That I didn't know how I came to be here
Not fast asleep in bed.
I stood and held your hand.
And nobody else's hand will ever do
Nobody else's hand
Then I awoke
Was this some kind of joke
I opened my eyes.
Much to my surprise.
song performed by by Rolling Stones from Their Satanic Majesties Request
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Loves A Slap In The Face
I been up, down, and all around, tell you what Im feelin
I been hurt and Ive found, been pushed around, its how I got this feelin
I never thought I could hurt so good, no no
I never thought I could lose myself, but I just cant hide it
They never let you down easy, now listen
Chorus:
Sometimes love is like a slap in the face, you been burned and still
Its the same old mistake
If you want my opinion, Ill give it to you straight
Love is like a slap in the face
Singin na na na na na na na na na, na na na na na na na na na
Loves got a hold on me, I cant believe it, but its plain to see
Turns me upside down and inside out
Dont know why it never fails to make you scream and shout
I never knew I could fool myself, no no, I never thought I could hurt so good
But I just cant hide it, guess Im feelin no pain, now listen
Chorus
I never knew I could hurt so good, no no, I never thought Id say nonono, no no
But Im here babe, I got a secret inside
Sometimes love is like a ball and chain
Keeps you up at night, why is it always the same
If you wanna know the truth, its something I cant explain
Yeah love is like a ball and chain
Yeah na na na na, na na na na na, na na na na, na na na na na (repeats out)
song performed by by Kiss
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Am The Pretty Girl-Chapter Two
By junior year I was feeling pretty lonely
and I went to this party
where all the pretty girls go
so I had to go and everything
there were boys there from the college.
boys I didn't see very often
mature boys
and I was curious
especially about the one named Josh;
he seemed nice
I had watched him from the time I arrived.
but more important
he seemed to have confidence about himself
in a way I wished I had confidence in my self.
I openly looked at him
caught his eye
letting him know girl-way
I liked him
miracle of all miracles he understood my look-
closed his eyes and started across the room toward me
a gentle smile on his face, growing as he drew near.
I was thrilled as I felt him before he even got close to me,
he had something which made me feel weak
a bit frightened but very excited.
Directly in front of me now
I gave him my blank stare
as he towered above me
and I
suddenly realizing
that all eyes were upon us.
To have a college boy interested in you
was the height
the room stood still
as he pivoted to stand
beside me
like we already knew
each other and everything
I could hear little gasps of surprise because
my girls friends thought that we
somehow
did know each other.
He stood there beside me
watching everyone in the room watch us
then he took my hand
slowly into his,
a soft touch,
just a soft touch
not an aggressive touch
and whispered
'Act casual and we can just cruise on out of here
You go first-I will cover you.'
He made me laugh and in that moment I relaxed.
Josh had the ability to make me laugh from the very start.
I took his hand and led him toward a side door
into what was a small garden
with sliding glass doors
so everyone could see us
but not hear us.
I was so relieved to be out of there
and he was too I guess.
He chuckled,
still holding my hand
finally saying;
'I am never going to let go of your hand
ever.'
I looked at him sideways
and he burst out laughing
'Well I will let go sometime
but not before you give me
one of your beautiful smiles.'
Involuntarily I did give him a big smile-
he made me smile,
and then with that smile still on my face
he slowly took his hand from mine
and placed his finger tips on my lips.
The entire room behind those glass doors
gave a hushed gasp
I could almost hear;
from my corner eye
I could see
see heads swirling
as people did double-takes
looking at us.
Then for the first time
in a long time
I felt like the pretty girl
a real pretty girl
thinking if Josh was
or was not going to be the one
to whom I would lose my virginity to.
The thought made me blush.
To be Continued
poem by Lonnie Hicks
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Birthday Poems
A Touch of Class, The Art of Giving,
Put Your Words in Poetry Writing.
A Lovely Poem That Frames Your Thought,
For That Person, The Gift You Bought.
Should you not be a Poet in Waiting,
A Collection For you, I Am Sharing.
A Touch of Class, The Art of Giving,
Can Also Be From Sourcing.
'Have An AweSome Day! '