En.Citatepedia^®.ro

An Ode to the American Meta-Narrative

I was born fitted to a flannel suit,
A white button-up shirt with a collar—
Gray coat and black tie. Diffuse and dilute,
I disappear in suburban culture.
I have a synchronized watch on my wrist.
My hand clings tightly to a flat brief case
Filled with forms and documentation.
My whole body is clenched firm as a fist,
Locked into my usual standing space
While I wait in the tunneled train station.

I make my living on salaried pay,
Repeating the same, standardized work-week.
I settle to function mindless today—
Mechanic'lly programmed, anti-unique.
In my managerial position,
I'm empowered to think critically
Upon my pecuniary options.
I'm focused of finances, decisions
Based on reports made bi-annually:
The business of affirmative action.

Caged in a chromium jungle, I live
Safe and secure, far from some wilderness.
My natural inclination might give
Me intuition to seek happiness.
Under the guise of heart-felt sincerity,
Suggesting that I'll keep comfortable
Conforming myself to the nine to five.
Transformed, a beast of practicality,
I've become savagely reasonable,
Tamed to have some hope that I may survive.

I've built myself a synthetic brick house,
Captured and kept by a white picket fence.
I've built myself a fam'ly with a spouse.
Our estate is the perfect residence.
Ev'ry night, I relax by the TV
To watch evening programs in my chair
While my eyes rest, or—rather—while I sleep.
The lullaby broadcast news sings to me,
Makes me drowsier the longer I stare,
Until my consciousness I can no longer keep.

poem by Tim Stensloff
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Three Button Hand Me Down

(rod stewart, ian mclagen)
I dont need no ones opinion
On the matter concerning my dress.
I was raised in a clinic down in oklahoma,
There were many things I did not possess.
Well I never complained, because my father said,
Son you get your chance before youre my age.
Then he took me upstairs and gave me this suit
(? ) written all over his face
He said, others may come and others may go,
But that suit will be around wherever youre goin
Three button hand me down
Three button hand me down
Hold on a minute
Now I had my fair share of neat women,
But they came between me and my suit.
That was a filly from boston, a barmaid from houston,
Not forgetting the one in detroit.
They said, we like you boy and we think youre sweet,
But cant you lose your suit?
I said, nononono, you cant do that to me
I remember what my father said:
He said, others may come and others may go,
But that suit will be around wherever youre goin
Three button hand me down, ha ha,
Three button hand me down
Ive never been a tidy dresser
And the fold in my trousers it aint straight.
Still I know a good cloth when I see one.
Thats why Im clad in this gray flannel suit.
Sometimes I wonder if I should visit a tailor
And get myself a smooth outfit.
Then I remember what my father said to me.
I make it from the open road, you all know this
He said, others may come and others may go,
But that suit will be around wherever you go
Three button hand me down,
Three button hand me down, ha ha

song performed by by Rod Stewart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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White Hat White Coat

To the late doug whalan.... from your daughter.....

White hat white coat and greying in hair
he would dance around the dance floor with plenty of flair

White hat white coat black pants to boot
the men would all say 'silly old coot'

Whitehat white coat and a big friendly smile
when he went to a dance he'd dress in style

White hat white coat and a beat in his feet
it's of to the dance and people to meet

White hat white coat and a scotch on the rocks he'd love to dance
and the men would all mock

White hat white coat asleep at the wheel
he's danced all night 'boy i know how he feels'

White hat white coat have been put to the test
it's time to go home for a well earned rest

White hat white coat clean shirt and socks too
he's all geard up and ready for round two

White hat white coat so tired and run down
close your eyes and dream of your nights on the town

White hat white coat you've seen better days
your torn around the edges and your starting to fray

White hat white coat the time's come for us to part
but always remember ' i love you with all my heart '

poem by Debbie Gregory
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The Wrist Watch Man

He is marching dusty highways and he's riding bitter trails,
His eyes are clear and shining and his muscles hard as nails.
He is wearing Yankee khaki and a healthy coat of tan,
And the chap that we are backing is the Wrist Watch Man.

He's no parlour dude, a-prancing, he's no puny pacifist,
And it's not for affectation there's a watch upon his wrist.
He's a fine two-fisted scrapper, he is pure American,
And the backbone of the nation is the Wrist Watch Man.

He is marching with a rifle, he is digging in a trench,
He is swapping English phrases with a poilu for his French;
You will find him in the navy doing anything he can,
For at every post of duty is the Wrist Watch Man.

Oh, the time was that we chuckled at the soft and flabby chap
Who wore a little wrist watch that was fastened with a strap.
But the chuckles all have vanished, and with glory now we scan
The courage and the splendor of the Wrist Watch Man.

He is not the man we laughed at, not the one who won our jeers,
He's the man that we are proud of, he's the man that owns our cheers;
He's the finest of the finest, he's the bravest of the clan,
And I pray for God's protection for our Wrist Watch Man.

poem by Edgar Albert Guest
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Shades of Grey

Black is the color of the night
Grey is the shadow of you I sight
White is the shirt you wear
Black is your suit I declare

White is the wall you lean against
Grey is our path I sensed
Black is the memory I lost
Black is the road we never crossed

Grey is the prospect of the day
Grey is the taxi driving away
Black is the truth to never find you
Black is everything I can't undo

Black is my room without light
White is my color of hope in spite
Grey is the circle around my heart
Black is the truth like a work of art

© 2011

poem by Kristina Louisa Carr
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Picture of a 23-year-old Youth Painted by His Friend of the Same Age, an Amature

He finished the painting yesterday noon. Now
he studies it in detail. He has painted him in a
gray unbuttoned coat, a deep gray; without
any vest or any tie. With a rose-colored shirt;
open at the collar, so something might be seen
also of the beauty of his chest, of his neck.
The right temple is almost entirely
covered by his hair, his beautiful hair
(parted in the manner he perfers it this year).
There is the completely voluptuous tone
he wanted to put into it when he was doing the eyes,
when he was doing the lips.... His mouth, the lips
that are made for consummation, for choice love-making.

poem by Constantine P. Cavafy
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Shirt

The back, the yoke, the yardage. Lapped seams,
The nearly invisible stitches along the collar
Turned in a sweatshop by Koreans or Malaysians

Gossiping over tea and noodles on their break
Or talking money or politics while one fitted
This armpiece with its overseam to the band

Of cuff I button at my wrist. The presser, the cutter,
The wringer, the mangle. The needle, the union,
The treadle, the bobbin. The code. The infamous blaze

At the Triangle Factory in nineteen-eleven.
One hundred and forty-six died in the flames
On the ninth floor, no hydrants, no fire escapes--

The witness in a building across the street
Who watched how a young man helped a girl to step
Up to the windowsill, then held her out

Away from the masonry wall and let her drop.
And then another. As if he were helping them up
To enter a streetcar, and not eternity.

A third before he dropped her put her arms
Around his neck and kissed him. Then he held
Her into space, and dropped her. Almost at once

He stepped up to the sill himself, his jacket flared
And fluttered up from his shirt as he came down,
Air filling up the legs of his gray trousers--

Like Hart Crane's Bedlamite, "shrill shirt ballooning."
Wonderful how the patern matches perfectly
Across the placket and over the twin bar-tacked

Corners of both pockets, like a strict rhyme
Or a major chord. Prints, plaids, checks,
Houndstooth, Tattersall, Madras. The clan tartans

Invented by mill-owners inspired by the hoax of Ossian,
To control their savage Scottish workers, tamed
By a fabricated heraldry: MacGregor,

Bailey, MacMartin. The kilt, devised for workers
to wear among the dusty clattering looms.
Weavers, carders, spinners. The loader,

The docker, the navvy. The planter, the picker, the sorter
Sweating at her machine in a litter of cotton
As slaves in calico headrags sweated in fields:

George Herbert, your descendant is a Black
Lady in South Carolina, her name is Irma
And she inspected my shirt. Its color and fit

And feel and its clean smell have satisfied
both her and me. We have culled its cost and quality
Down to the buttons of simulated bone,

The buttonholes, the sizing, the facing, the characters
Printed in black on neckband and tail. The shape,
The label, the labor, the color, the shade. The shirt.

poem by Robert Pinsky
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Black and White

My world is black and white,
The colors I see is black and white,
Hold me tight,
Don’t let me go,
See the tears I have cried,
Listen to my cry,
Look into my eyes,
My world is black and white,
Cut my wrist,
Black my eyes,
Blacken these thoughts I think of,
Black and white is all I can see,
The tears is all I can feel,
Feel me fading away,
Watching myself falling apart,
Look deep into my eyes,
Can you see me,
Can you feel the pain I feel,
I don’t understand why I am feeling this sad,
All the moments that once we shared has faded away like others have,
I never did tried to see the beyond the black and white clouds,
I need to face what I have become,
I need to find my way back,
The black and white is all I can see and feel,
My world has been black and white.

poem by Jennifer Rondeau
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Space Age Hero

Evaporate, exasperate
Watch the world with swivel hand
We're hanging on a wire
Cigaretes, nicorettes
Life's addications father stress
But who can make it better
Oh-ho-ho!
Watch me rise
Oh-ho-ho!
Synchronize
Take me high
Space age hero
Pain
Take the strain
Go insane
Like a monkey in a cage
Melting in a fire
Dislocate, make the break
Wash the stain right off your feet
We're hanging on a wire, oh
Oh-ho-ho!
Watch me rise
Oh-ho-ho!
Synchronized
Take me high
Space age hero
Dissident
Take the stand
Live the system, walk the plank
We're hanging on a wire
Oh-ho-ho!
Watch me rise
Oh-ho-ho!
Synchronized
Take me high
Space age hero
Oh-ho-ho!
Watch me rise
Oh-ho-ho!
Synchronized
Take me high
Space age hero

song performed by by Feeder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Hide

I hide within a culture where black people
kill their brother everyday
no other culture on this earth
slaughter humans in this way..

listen to what I say! …

I hide within a culture where white rulers estimate
the body count…the after effects..
of the importation and proliferation
of drugs and alcohol
of guns and disease…and biased media..
that they control…

the ‘when and where and who …will fall’

these white men have no soul…
world domination is their goal

white rulers that get rich from war..
old racist men that know it all..

I hide within that culture ….

poem by Steven Taylor
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Shades Of Grey

If you start here late no one will know what you did
No the streets are straight its the soul thats crooked
Ive been treated fine Ive been treated elegantly
But Im not one for bathing in the waters of plenty
East is east west is west
And bowery is screaming while delancey rests
Well Im south of the skating but Im north of the cash
I could sure use the money but Im ashamed to ask
The traffic has buried all of last nights rain
The words are all different but the accent is the same
The sun is white and the moon is gray
And the river is black blue and green
The young are young and the old are old
And there are no shades of gray in between
Theres at least ten different strains of smoke in the air
And my prints are on them all to prove I was there
And I love the curses but Im not one for the trenches
And I do love the walking but thank God for the benches
Its hard to tell where green begins and the city gray stops
I guess the trees all bought their armor at second hand shops
My second had is working but the minute hand is broke again
I know time will pass but I dont know when
The sun is white and the moon is gray
And the river is black blue and green
The young are young and the old are old
And there are no shades of gray in between
And there are no shades of gray in between
I know the great ones have been here but where I cant tell
Theres dreams here a plenty but theyre being withheld
And Im more impressed with the closed doors than the ones that are open
The whole place tells time by a tower clock thats broken
The pigeons are ravens and the gulls are vultures
And trash is art and cash is culture
The sun is white and the moon is gray
And the river is black blue and green
The young are young and the old are old
And there are no shades of gray in between
There are no shades of gray in between
There are no shades of gray in between

song performed by by Eagle Eye Cherry
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We Shall Meet Soon

we shall soon meet
and i shall wear the best of what i have
an off-white shirt
the khaki pants, clear reading glasses
i'll sport my shortest hair
i'll wear my black shoes with mud on its side
no socks, no wrist watch, no cell phone,
nothing to smoke, nothing to say
no word from me when we meet
i will sip my coffee beside you
no promises no talks about heaven
neither hell, you talk i will listen,
you tell me stories i will be patient
tell me more about hellos
skip the sad stories about goodbyes.
let there be no time that runs
you keep on talking
i shall listen. And if you wish
kiss me and we shall not mind
what they will say.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Black and White

Black and White By Dilantha Gunawardana

A story in black and white

Black and white;
Black in white; perhaps black on white;
White embedded in black;
Black around white, sprinkle or a speckle even a trickle;
Shadows on the porch on an eerie white night;
A piano keyboard, intertwined in ebony and white;
A checker or a droughts board or lofty chess pieces;
Black stallions and white mares;
All galloping in the pursuit of unending happiness;
A flow of nimbus with a speckle of cumulus;
Showers of blessings, black rain and even snow and hale;
The smog that kisses the snow flake clouds;
Chimneys and embers inside snowy winter bungalows;
We begin in ashes, black residual ashes;
Connected to a white umbilical cord;
We are born white, virgins in every sphere of life;
Then we learn of the agony of the ebony;
Even the bright light of white, even white water that softens our stance;
Criss-cross, diagonal, straight or in jumps in the many paths of life;
Life, a game of chess, as we sprinkle our lives with black and white;
And in the end, we are left with nothing but black and white;
A powdered white peau against the back dropp of a charcoal black suit
In an ebony coffin, with white shimmering handles
Then we burn in to ashes, residual embers
Ashes to ashes, powder of our existence
Black and white;
Our true essence of life.

poem by Dilantha Gunawardana
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White Collar Crime

I'm not hungry, (?) throw away the key (?)
It's outrageous, nobody cares,
White collar crime, you had the time,
Blue collar crime, you'll do time every time,
Stealing from the company, taking all the profits,
Sharing with your family, drinking all the benefits,
(?), shocking, it's all so mocking,
White collar crime, you don't have the time,
Blue collar crime, you'll do time every time,
You can get away with it, will they get away with it?
Do they get away with it? yes, they get away with it.
Burn money today, free money tomorrow,
(?) goes my mind, causes so much sorrow,
(?), it's all the same, it's a money power game
White collar crime, you do the time,
Blue collar crime, you do time every time
White collar crime, you don't have the time,
Blue collar crime, you do time every time
All the same, money power game,
It's all the same, money power game,
It's all the same, it's a money power game,
All the same, it's a money, a money, power, the power game,
It's all the same.

song performed by by Grace Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Prevent Anger

Anger comes unasked; fear can block it.
Tears can dilute it; curses can diffuse it.
The time can dry it. Better prevent it
With low expectations and the subdue ego.

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Mixed Emotions

Button your lip baby
Button your coat
Let's go out dancing
Go for the throat
Let's bury the hatchet
Wipe out the past
Make love together
Stay on the path

You're not the only one
With mixed emotions
You're not the only ship
Adrift on this ocean

This coming and going
Is driving me nuts
This to-ing and fro-ing
Is hurting my guts
So get off the fence
It's creasing your butt
Life is a party
Let's get out and strut

You're not the only one
That's feeling lonesome
You're not the only one
With mixed emotions

You're not the only one
You're not the only one
You're not the only one
You're not the only one

Let's grab the world
By the scruff of the neck
And drink it down deeply
Let's love it to death
So button your lip
And button your coat
Let's go out dancing
Let's rock 'n' roll

You're not the only one
With mixed emotions
You're not the only ship
Adrift on this ocean
You're not the only one
That's feeling lonesome
You're not the only one
With mixed emotions

song performed by by Rolling Stones from Steel Wheels
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I remember in that red leisure suit I sort of felt like a Pizza Hut employee, and the white one was the ultimate, with the white turtleneck collar, that was the ultimate in bad taste.

quote by Johnny Depp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Talk Show Circuit

A blue suit with short hair
Speaking empty speech
To a tanned girl
With long legs and a beautiful mouth

A gray suit with gray hair
Speaking empty speech
To a fair skinned girl
With sexy hips and cherry red lips

A black suit with a pink tie
Speaking empty speech
To a Latin girl
In a green dress with lovely breasts

A pinstriped suit with a silver tie
Speaking empty speech
To an Asian girl
With rosy cheeks and perfect knees

…Too much television

© J. James Martinez

poem by J. James Martinez
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I don't fight the suburban areas or collar counties. I get along with them; they're former Chicagoans anyway.

quote by Richard M. Daley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Kitty Collar Tight

watch how i put it on
kitty collar tight!
make it sing its song
make it fight
make it fight, fight!
watch how i put it on
kitty collar tight!
make it sing its song
make it fight
make it fight, fight!
i hold your history
and i kiss the map
i'm looking back forwards
your tap drips, i...catch
watch how i put it on
kitty collar tight!
make it sing its song
make it fight
make it fight, fight!
watch how i put it on
kitty collar tight!
make it sing its song
make it fight
make it fight, fight!
your skin, my nails
your mirror, my face
your skin impaled
for your scars are my grace
watch how i put it on
kitty collar tight!
make it sing its song
make it fight
make it fight, fight!
watch how i put it on
kitty collar tight!
make it sing its song
make it fight
make it fight, fight!
watch how i put it on
kitty collar tight!
make it sing its song
make it fight
make it fight, fight!
make it fight
make it fight, fight!
make it fight
make it fight, fight!
make it fight
make it fight, fight!
make it fight
make it fight, fight!

song performed by by Queen Adreena
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ducks of Equality

Dark brown-black ducks
splish-splash and
pitter-patter on
gently rocking waves
of glee
When a light gray-white duck
tip-taps and
tip-toes
shyly shivering
'May I join? ' quacks he.

The dark brown-black ducks
easily accept
the light gray-white duck
as one of their own
and joyfully they swim and play
In chilly water
'til they're freezing to the bone

And I wonder:
Why can't America be
more like the
dark brown-black ducks
and the
light gray-white duck
floating on the waves
of acceptance and equality?

poem by Charlotte Riddle
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