The Dealer
He knows her weakness.
She plays to his senses;
Unremarkable accept for her habit...
Knee high in the snow drifts, she is
He welcomes her needs;
And assists in the quest for eternal sunshine;
Driven by the lowest of lows...
She seeks him out;
Between her late night lines...
And early morning Mimosa's.
He is her favorite enabler-
Her dealer-her poet-her life.
poem by Theodora Onken
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Morning Sunshine
This poet is so seductive
This poet is now strange to me
This poet is so bold
This little girl doesn't want to see
The little girl has known this poet
ever since
But the little girl is already
tired of this poet
She just wants to play.
Not any passing minute
She hasn't have
any word of
allegory
metonymy and
simile
Take me away from this poet yet
the little girl must empty first
the words of this poet
Before she is free to play
in the morning sunshine
and go away from this busy poet
Do you think I'm too young to see?
Do you agree?
This poet won't let me
play out in the middle of the rain
This poet won't let me
see the afternoon sway
This poet won't let me
see the morning gay
Let me see the Morning Sunshine
Let me see!
But this poet
Won't let me
I'll just watch t.v
and sing
her poetry
poem by Mary Jesusa Villegas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Early In The Morning
Early in the morning and I cant get right
Had a little date with my baby last night
Now its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Well its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Now its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Went to all the places where we used to go
Went to your house but you dont live there no more
Now its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Well its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Went to your friends house but she was out
Knock on your fathers door and he began to shout get out there boy
Early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Went to doogie chain to get something to eat
Waiter looked at me and said you sure look beat
Now its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning (early in the morning)
Well its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Well its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Well its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Morning Sunshine
Wait til the morning sunshine
Wait til the morning sunshine
Feels like another day, I wouldnt know
My loves away, from home today
Wait til the morning sunshine
Wait til the morning sunshine
Its just the memory, of sunshine
In the morning, being close to me
And it was.....
Wait til the morning sunshine
Wait til the morning sunshine
Seems like the world is late, for I cant wait
For sunshine in the morning
Wait til the morning sunshine
Wait til the morning sunshine
song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Be a Morning! !
Be a morning that strikes garden chimes
And brighten all world with sun & sunshine
Plays a song eternal, brace in its rhymes.
Passes by so gently, but impacts are high
Hope flower bloomed, once a bud very shy
Serenity in gaze, pronounced peace hereby.
Days were strange, & nights felt lost
Morning received me, all free without cost
Here commences Life, concluding Dead frost.
poem by Samima Shah
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Poet vs Poem
Does a poet makes poem
Or poem makes poet?
The eternal war goes on.
The big confusion who will solve it?
Poet fight with sword of pen.
Poem armoured with shield of senses.
Poet tries to rich sky high,
Poem pulls rope of meaning and tenses.
Does poet sketc the poem
Or poem drags him through the invigible gravity.
A piece of paper becomes battlefield.
The war of ink and vocabulary,
Creates a historic beauty.
Poet cages the poem in a book.
Where the world will look.
Praises all to poet 'oh how great'
But the poem is what counts after his death.
poem by Saurav Karki
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Big Ten Inch Record
Got me the strangest woman
Believe it, this chicks no sinch
When I wanna get her goin
Then I whip out my big ten inch
Record of the band that plays the blues
Well the band that plays the blues
She just loved my big ten inch
Record of her favorite blues
Last night I tried to tease her
I gave my love a little pinch
But she said now stop that jivin
Now whip out your big ten-inch
Record of the band that plays the blues
Well the band that plays the blues
She just loved my big ten inch
Record of her favorite blues
Ill cover her with kisses
And when were in a lovers clinch
She gets all excited
When she puts on my big ten-inch
Record of the band that plays the blues
Well the band that plays the blues
She just loved my big ten inch
Record of her favorite blues
My gal dont go smokin
And liquor just makes her flinch
Seems she dont go for nothin
cept for my big ten-inch
Record of the band that plays the blues
Band that plays the blues
She just loved my big ten inch
Record of her favorite blues
song performed by by Aerosmith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rising
Rising
On the stream of music
When the dawn shines again new,
From the twilight
From the dark;
Coming through - the rays of light,
Sunshine - sunshine!
Sparkling glisten
Fire steams,
Growing light - beyond the dark;
Red and yellow
Sparkling sparkles,
Twisting shadows
To the deep!
Shades of tempers
Lights of amber,
Orange red and hot!
Flowing like the water
In the blood of fire!
Sparking glisten!
Sparking glisten!
Through the night
Of eternal space,
Through the haze
Of starry rays…
Morning comes and softens the night,
Morning gives the sparkling day.
Sunshine - sunshine!
Shades of tempers,
Sunshine - sunshine!
Beyond the night,
Sunshine - sunshine!
Traveler in dark!
Nirvana,
Haunt me not,
From your dwelling!
poem by Peter S. Quinn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Song Of The Evergreens
Listen to the briskly whistling winter evergreen
Whispering through the frozen morning light
And tell me whats to come
Saying my time is near
Never fear
I close each year
Im winter
Reminding me to trade my t-shirts for my woven wools
Trade my sandals for my skis
Whispered warnings in the wind
Saying soon come the dancing snowflakes
Theyre kissing every tree
Theyre kissing you and me
Please hurry
Falling
Dazzling dancing diamonds from the sky
Prisms
Rainbow sparkled flurries in our eyes
Whipping across the frozen crystal meadow
Pond of ice
Race the snow
Well build a warming fire there
And cuddle close and wine and dine
The setting sun
The morning light will find us high
Shooting down the glistening mountain side
Screaming through the whispering pines
The freedom of each day
Will cleanse our minds
I can hardly wait for winter
I can hardly wait for the snow
I can hardly hardly wait for winter
I can hardly wait for the snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
song performed by by Chicago
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Early Morning
(pal waaktaar/ mags)
Early morning
Eight oclock precise
I see the lonely august sun arise
Say you know
You will
Move me like you do
Out on the fields...
Im waiting the whole night through
Early morning, early morning, yeah
Ran the whole way
Down to the tracks
Through the doorway, then a last look back
Say you know
You will
Save me like you do
Out on the fields...
Ive waited the whole night through
Early morning, early morning, yeah
I climbed all the stairways
To find the rooftop clear
Got the shotgun lying with me here
Say you know
You will
Move me like you do
Out on the fields...
You know how it feels, yeah
Early morning, early morning, yeah
Early morning
Eight oclock precise
song performed by by A-Ha
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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After the Interval
About three months ago, when first
Upon our open, unprotected
And freezing garden snowstorms burst
In sudden fury, I reflected
That I would shut myself away
And in seclusion write a section
Of winter poems, day by day,
To supplement my spring collection.
But nonsense piled up mountain-high,
Like snow-drifts hindering and stifling
And half the winter had gone by,
Against all hopes, in petty trifling.
I understood, alas, too late
Why winter-while the snow was falling,
Piercing the darkness with its flakes-
From outside at my house was calling;
And while with numb white-frozen lips
It whispered, urging me to hurry,
I sharpened pencils, played with clips,
Made feeble jokes and did not worry.
While at my desk I dawdled on
By lamp-light on an early morning,
The winter had appeared and gone-
A wasted and unheeded warning.
poem by Boris Pasternak
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A Poet Became His Own Poetry
A POET BECAME HIS OWN POETRY
A poet became his own poetry
And all he could be
Was lines and lines and lines
Inside and outside
Lines and more lines
Off- rhymes
Finding a phrase
A metaphor
Hearing listening
To sounds
His own mind made.
A poet became his own poetry
And went into the long sleep
Of being only what he wrote.
No one can know how
Reading these lines now
The poet and the poetry live
without themselves.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Warmth
Yellow
mimosa grows
beneath the blue mountain,
lit by the early morning sun.
Birds sing.
poem by Diana Rosser
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Favorite Time
My favorite time of morning
Is that time of morning when
I have a cup of warm coffee in my hands
And the sun barely peeks over the land
When the day is yet unwritten
When I am alone in the quiet
With thoughts of you
To keep me company
At my favorite time
My favorite time of the day
Is that time of day when
I hear your voice or see your words
And I know you are engaged in me
As I am engaged in you
As I am replete with thoughts of you
Warm thoughts of you
Across the miles
At my favorite time
My favorite time of the night
Is that time of night when
I close my eyes and dream of you
And my dreams are vivid, sweet and real
In them we are together
In them there is no yesterday or tomorrow
Only a never ending today
With you always
At my favorite time
So my favorite time really
Is that real time
I am privileged to think of you
And to know that no matter what
You are all I could ever want
You are all I will ever need
In a partner, friend and love
I know this now because with you I am always
In my favorite time
poem by David Terry
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Morning
(nana cayammi / gilberto gil / norma tanega)
The morning it is sad
The morning so beautiful
The sunshine it is sad
The sunshine no friend of mine
You awake
It is day
As you go from me away
The morning it is sad
The morning so beautiful
So, alone I will stay
The daylight takes you away
So I wait til good night
Begins to end the daylight
The daytime, the daybreak
The dawning
Come away, until day
Come away with me my love
Come away, until day
Come away and sing the night
The morning it is sad
The morning so beautiful
The sunshine it is sad
The sunshine no friend of mine
You awake it is day
As you go from me away
The morning it is sad
The morning so beautiful
song performed by by Dusty Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Stagger Mountain Tragedy
I was born on stagger mountain in the sunshine and the snow
And leavin was the first mistake I made;
But I hungered for the shadows in the valley down below
And the girl that danced the tune the devil played.
Her smile was like the blindin light of sunshine on the snow
And the flashin of her hair was black as sin.
And her body set the smokes of hell a-boilin in my skull
When the fiddle of the devil made her spin.
Morning sunshine [sunshine] high on the mountain,
Where the air is pure and cold;
But theres darkness in the shadows
In the canyons of my soul.
The lantern cast a shadow like a demon on the wall
And the naked sweat was breathin on her skin;
Then the room was spinning closer as her clothes began to fall
And the eagle started screamin in my brain;
Then I saw the laughin dagger and I heard the devil scream
And her bleeding heart was beating in my hand.
Then the darkness blew away and I was standin by a tree
With a hanging rope a-danglin from a limb.
Morning sunshine [sunshine] high on the mountain,
Where the air is pure and cold;
But theres darkness in the shadows
In the canyons of my soul.
song performed by by Kris Kristofferson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A reversible trend
you are reversing the cycle
it is clearly written i bible
no one is moving from stand
we only misguide and understand
why do we think more and sink?
we spent energy unnecessarily and think
where is need to raise noise or bark?
why start at night should shine or spark?
life is as tidy as dawn
where morning star sparks and blink
after all the midnight storm
sun welcomes the morning warm......
Moon and stars to provide calm and cool
nights to be spent by poets and fools
midnight storm may rise and subside
the happiness and joy may permanently reside
All worries are over by rising sun
we walk up early and make run
life is to be spent with worry or fun
life is with risk at the point of gun
we may go as usual in our way
the realities may be far away
we simply draw the conclusion
rest everything stays as big question
life is to lived as such
there is nothing left as much
I draw the lines and enjoy
there enough to see with joy
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Dealer
If you fool around
With the dealer
Remember soon
Youll have to pay
Hell creep behind you
Like a hunter
Just to steal your soul away
I dont want no one
Messing with my woman
But just the same
I dont see nobody
Fooling with you
If youre snowblind
Madonna can hold you
But if you dont understand
There is nothing she can do for you
Running from the dealer
Trying to save your soul
I can feel the fire
Coming from inside you
I know what its like
Cos Ive been burned before
Aint no mercy
In the hunger but
Youre a fool to yourself
Cos your dealer keeps you begging for more
Running from the dealer
Trying to save your soul
In the beginning all you wanted
Was the calm before the storm
If the bluebird plays the eagle
He finds his song will turn to stone
Dealer
song performed by by Deep Purple
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Am A Poet Of Short Lines
I am a poet of short lines-
Of lines that are phrases,
Of lines that are small and broken-
I am a poet of short lines-
Of impatience and small breath,
Of hurrying and not taking time-
I am a poet of short lines-
Of condensation and conciseness,
Of maximum meaning in minimum space-
I am a poet of short lines
Short ones.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Single Thread
Life is but a single thread
that stretches into infinity.
If the thread is ever broken
life then drifts away,
lost to the eons of eternal night.
There is no mending the thread
that is once severed,
no going back to recover.
Gone forever the control
it drifts endlessly away
into a greater light
than the one we know.
26 November 2009
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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All The Poems Remain Written Where They Once Never Were
ALL THE POEMS REMAIN WRITTEN WHERE THEY ONCE NEVER WERE
All the poems remain written where they once never were
The grass and the skies of Whitman form lines in the mind of Baudelaire
The trees and dark cities of the distance form single sounds in the heart of the poet who cares
Night is more than darkness and day more than an early setting out
Each thing influences the other and calls back its own origins and end
We are going somewhere we will never know whether we write eternal lines or not
Over everywhere can be heard in the morning light the selfsame sound that through the heart of Ruth burned the alien corn
Keats is not dead, and Borges is not dead and Kafka is not dead and Wordsworth and all those who wrote great lines are not dead
Poetry is the last first eternity of the living word
And those who can hear the sounds of others greater than themselves in their own lines know
We are all writing down this last poem for ourselves and no one else
Though as we go to pray each morning the minyan tells us secretly
All our prayers together are more than any single poem can be alone
In the grey long distance where no one hears any poem at all
God writes and rewrites for us all the book of the stars in which dread is no longer a name
And beauty bright bright beauty is heard and reechoed as more than we will ever be
God is the only Poetry in the End
God is the Only One who never will be dead..
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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