My Heart Is a Songless Bird
My heart is a songless bird
Melting into a highway overpass
Where she crashed and burned.
I live in a room of mirrors
But they only reflect the past,
Short-lived joy doomed to be surpassed
With loneliness beneath a loveless moon.
See me rummaging through the trash
Searching for a bouquet
You threw away years ago.
I want to walk half-drunk
On the midnight streets
Of a ruthless city’s worse neighborhoods
Until the last drop
Of my murdered blood seeps
Into the dirty drains
Of emotional defeat.
poem by Uriah Hamilton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Emotional Highway
Heard youre up to no good
Doin everything I never would
Shakes me up
Brings me down
Puts my world six feet underground
Well I need to know whats going on
Before I lose my mind
If I catch you with her I dont know what Ill do
When I get home what will I find
Whoa emotional highway
Driving all night and day through the pouring rain
Ive heard a rumor now
Ive got to find out for myself
If my babys giving his heart to someone else
Well my minds playing tricks
To think of you and her just makes me sick
Every mile that I go
I keep praying I dont lose control
Well the road is long and conditions are bad
And all I think about is you
I dont have time to wait in line
Move over mister
Ive gotta get through
Whoa emotional highway
Driving all night and day through the pouring rain
Ive heard a rumor now
Ive got to find out for myself
If my babys getting it on with someone else
Emotional highway
Emotional highway
Emotional highway, emotional, emotional, emotional
Baby baby I know that were two of a kind
Thats why Ive got suspicion on my mind
Whoa emotional highway
Driving all night and day through the pouring rain
Ive heard a rumor now
Ive got to find out for myself
If my babys me up for someone else
Emotional highway
Emotional highway
Emotional highway, emotional, emotional, emotional
Got to get back, get back to my baby
Emotional highway
Emotional highway
Emotional highway, emotional, emotional, emotional
Got to get back, get back to my baby
song performed by by Belinda Carlisle
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Music and Poetry
Lord Apollo, I’m like a lost man
Who has suffered the worst defeat,
The forever disappearance of his daughter;
I’m drunk from the cup of sorrow and praying
To your poetic heart of music to return my happiness again.
I’ve visited your shrines
And lit candles in the night sacrosanct,
I’ve tried to capture innocence and beauty
Like a child in the sunlight.
I spend so many days adrift in weeping
And walking the loveless streets
Searching for my soul
Abandoned to a woman’s heart.
I need a new song, Lord Apollo,
And I’ll relinquish everything else I’ve known,
I seek the solace of oblivion.
poem by Uriah Hamilton
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The mirrors here
The mirrors here
They reflect my deep desire...
And what it aspire...
The mirrors are tears
The desire is rape, fears
But it always mirror...
Is that my wish today is you
Your smile, hot for a while
Same do not knowing if you do it too
I'm like a child, getting wild
The mirrors here
Are a glass cover
Making me over...
The mirrors are tears
The cover is cold, years
What makes me excited...
Is that my wish today is you
Your wisdom, your freedom
I trust in moon
I want to listen the flute, true
Don't run, I can't
The sun tears can hurt deep
Without I feel very weak
I know I'll never stand
Stay, Give me fondling
The moon trust in the power from lovers
So we could keep us touching
So, trusting, we could be under covers
The mirrors here
They reflect my deep desire...
And what it aspire...
The mirrors are tears
The desire is rape, fears
But it always mirror...
poem by Ianne de Angel
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Peace Frog
Theres blood in the streets, its up to my ankles
She came
Theres blood on the streets, its up to my knee
She came
Blood on the streets in the town of chicago
She came
Blood on the rise, its following me
Think about the break of day
She came and then she drove away
Sunlight in her hair
She came
Blood in the streets runs a river of sadness
She came
Blood in the streets its up to my thigh
She came
Yeah the river runs down the legs of the city
She came
The women are crying red rivers of weepin
She came into town and then she drove away
Sunlight in her hair
Indians scattered on dawns highway bleeding
Ghosts crowd the young childs fragile eggshell mind
Blood in the streets in the town of new haven
Blood stains the roofs and the palm trees of venice
Blood in my love in the terrible summer
Bloody red sun of phantastic l.a.
Blood streams her brain as they chop off her fingers
Blood will be born in the birth of a nation
Blood is the rose of mysterious union
Theres blood in the streets, its up to my ankles
Blood in the streets, its up to my knee
Blood in the streets in the town of chicago
Blood on the rise, its following me
song performed by by Doors
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ten Thousand Feet from Home
Whatever else will come of this (and I'm convinced that nothing will) ,
The rums and Cokes have set my eyes to dancing as I stand out here,
With cigarette, beneath a moon which casts those peaks in ghostly
Light. It's Leadville once again, July, and I have come to see my
Cousins. I have come to peel away the puffy husk of life lived in
The suburbs, atmospheres below, and be as they prefer to see me:
Savage, as they are, and drunk, and, in a room upstairs is she,
Who rashly said she's make this journey. Her husk hasn't peeled
Away, and her face, face down on a pillow, drunk as mine, remains
So pretty, warmer, though, than all these peaks. I put my butt into
A can and haul myself, unsteady, upwards, to the room and to the
Woman who has come, but isn't conscious, and the bed beneath
The moon and these, most lovely, frigid peaks, to lay, a-swirl, at
Her side. Not much will come of this.
poem by Lawrence Beck
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Baron Samedi
Ill show you man who walk on fire
And dont get burned
Dont get burned, dont get burned
He dont get burned
Ill show you man who tread on glass
And he dont get cut
Dont get cut, dont get cut
He dont get cut
You can take a knife and slit his throat
And he wont drop dead
Wont drop dead, wont drop dead
He wont drop dead
Been a ju-ju boy for a thousand years
And he aint cut yet
Aint cut yet, aint cut yet
He aint cut yet
Hold 'em
Youve got to crease 'em and fold 'em
Youve got to shape 'em and mould 'em
Take a piece of their soul man
Well he can take a little moonlight
Suck the poison from a snakebite
Movin round about midnight
Hes got the power of life
See the sacrifice of the virgin women
See the deadly snake and the headless chicken
Take a sip from dripping red
Make it with the living dead
Take you up when you feeling down
When youre sick he will come around
Takes his cures from out the ground
Hes the one who can hypnotize
And youll never believe your eyes
He can cause the dead to rise
song performed by by 10 Cc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Goodbye to purple covered Jacaranda trees
Goodbye to purple covered Jacaranda trees
which line the streets
and the great laagered fort on the hill
telling stories of times past,
the university on the knoll
next to which I once lived
waving with buildings and towers
sending its greetings into the sky
while I drive away fast
and the motorbike’s wheels sings whispering
do not look back
and its engine howls its cry against the wind
weeping instead of me
while I drive away from the city
that I love and where I cannot stay.
The bike flashes on in a blur
passing trucks and cars
racing on the highway
as if searching for the sun
and my heart is lost
and pain rips through me
with the parting from you
while I drive away
and I cannot understand
the seasons of the heart
and it is goodbye
to you too.
poem by Gert Strydom
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That's Death
There are bodies laying on the floor
Blood seeping from the room
Covering their wounds
But that’s death
A sound of consequence
Echoing through existence
Finding a deaf ear
But that’s death
People walk away to their lives
Leaving those behind
Forgetting us
But that’s death
We walk the crowded streets
Looking for our salvation
Never getting redemption
But that’s death
A sad existence of life
Once lived vibrantly
Forgotten the same
But that’s death
Twenty-Seven years lived strong
Fighting for what is right
Dying for what is true
But that’s death
poem by C.R. Ebowski
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Blood Brothers
Maurice white, jon lind, nicky brown & brock walsh
So my friend
Voices from the past reunite at last
Back when we grew up on the streets
The world was at our feet
Do you recall the two of us
How we used th sing when everything
Was new to us
From the time that we were old
Enough to stand
It was you and I together to the end
Oh, what our souls believe we will
Always be
Blood brothers time cant divide
What our hearts have said with a
Drop of red
Blood brothers till the end
Through these years
Time has not been kind to others left behind
These streets where you and I once played
Nothings left today
What happened to the dreams we shared
Do we just go on like it was
Never there
Do I tell you that theres hope beyond
These walls
That to help you Id do anything at all
What our souls believe we will
Always be
Blood brothers time cant divide
What our hearts have said with a
Drop of red
Blood brothers, the bond we made never
Will break
Blood brothers to the end
song performed by by Earth Wind And Fire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Grandmother Used to Say
My grandmother used to say
you can't threaten
a poor man with poverty
a loveless soul with loneliness
a hard heart with pitilessness
because all these
lacks
are never noticed by those
already far gone.
You don't bring coals to Newcastle
bride an honest man
teach character-
that is something which must be lived-
Never try she would say
to be young past your age
kiss evil on the mouth
break the golden rule
Never kick a person when they are down
take victory laps
brag over small successes
Never tell your truth and ignore
the truth of others
think that you are the smartest person in the room
at all times;
My grandmother used to say.
Understand
she would say
that when you die
your only chance to live forever
is to spend you life
loving others.
My Grandmother used to say.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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For Mel (villanelle)
The one who should have lived has gone so fast.
The old ones, in their dotage, linger on –
they, with no future, live only in the past.
And we who can but sit, dumb and aghast,
scarcely believe that while the sun still shone
the one who should have lived has gone so fast.
Six decades older, surviving to their last
few days or years, together but alone,
they, with no future, live only in the past.
At least she kept on living to the last,
but should have had a future. She has none.
The one who should have lived has gone so fast,
and they, for whom so many years have passed,
are unaware that one they loved is gone.
They, with no future, live only in the past,
mark time until the final trumpet blast,
and never know the respite they have won.
The one who should have lived has gone so fast.
They, with no future, live only in the past.
poem by Paul Hansford
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To Be Faceless To Be Loveless In A Crowd Alone
tell me honey
how does it feel to be lonely
to be faceless
to be loveless
in a crowd
of people, thousands of them walking
roaming this earth
all looking for love and not finding any
in a crowd of namelessness
always looking at each other
in short glimpses
without saying
hello?
tell me how does it feel now
when he left you and when you told him
i do not need you
when your heart
calls for his name saying
i still love you,
but you didn't
tell me how to tell myself when i have pretended too much
not needing anyone
when alone in my room now
i wish
i in an instant dies,
begging for company
for someone
to touch
warmth
tell me how to breathe now
tell me how to live
tell me how to love and keep love and live
this broken
heart
in this faceless, loveless
locomotion in a
crowd
where there is practically no one
to say
hello
not even goodbye.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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374
tell me honey
how does it feel to be lonely
to be faceless
to be loveless
in a crowd
of people, thousands of them walking
roaming this earth
all looking for love and not finding any
in a crowd of namelessness
always looking at each other
in short glimpses
without saying
hello?
tell me how does it feel now
when he left you and when you told him
i do not need you
when your heart
calls for his name saying
i still love you,
but you didn't
tell me how to tell myself when i have pretended too much
not needing anyone
when alone in my room now
i wish
i in an instant dies,
begging for company
for someone
to touch
warmth
tell me how to breathe now
tell me how to live
tell me how to love and keep love and live
this broken
heart
in this faceless, loveless
locomotion in a
crowd
where there is practically no one
to say
hello
not even goodbye.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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City Streets
The gaudy glow of neon lights
dispels the darkness of the nights
on city streets.
They pop and fizzle noisily
creating a cacophony
on city streets.
The sober folks walk warily
and drunks stagger uncaringly
on city streets.
The ladies of the night parade
for there is money to be made
on city streets.
Drug dealers ready to retreat
if they should hear a coppers feet
on city streets.
The night shift workers wend their way
towards their work to start their day
on city streets.
The noisy revellers thin out
as one by one the signs go out
on city streets.
The gradually noises abate
and ghostly shadow congregate
on city streets.
For some few hours peace will reign
before the noise will start again
on city streets.
The early morning traffic sounds
start with the milkmen on their rounds
on city streets.
This builds up to an angry roar
as cars and lorries inward pour
on city streets
then when at last rush hour has passed
noise levels will subside at last
on city streets
I thank the lord that I am free
to leave this noise far behind me
on city streets.
I walked my beat the whole night
through exactly as I’m paid to do
on city streets.
I choose to live outside the town
where constant noise won’t get me down
on city streets.
My village is a quiet place
A haven where I need not face
the noisy streets.
8-Jun-07
poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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São Paulo
São Paulo
The city that I was born in
I never liked you since I was a child
São Paulo
Now that I am grown up I still don't like you either
I don't feel safe being in the streets in São Paulo
To me São Paulo is very ugly in real life
It is only beautiful in the postcards
There is no in between
Either you are rich or poor
There are too many contrasts
São Paulo
A city that never sleeps
São Paulo
I am glad that you don't have snow
One thing that is great in São Paulo is summer, the hot weather
I would go insane if I lived in here forever
For me it is like a prison
Because it is too dangerous to walk on the streets
It is a very depressing city
São Paulo
It is a real cement city
Buildings and more buildings
Hardly any green
It is an old city
450 years old
For me São Paulo
Is like a prison cell
poem by Aldo Kraas
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Real Emotional Girl
Shes a real emotional girl
She wears her heart on her sleeve
Every little thing you tell her
Shell believe
She really will
She even cries in her sleep
Ive heard her
Many times before
I never had a girl who loved me
Half as much as this girl loves me
Shes real emotional
For eighteen years she lived at home
She was daddys little girl
And daddy helped her move out on her own
She met a boy
He broke her heart
And now she lives alone
And shes very, very careful
Yes she is
Shes a real emotional girl
Lives down deep inside her heart
She turns on easy
Its like a hurricane
You would not believe it
You gotta hold on tight to her
Shes a real emotional girl
song performed by by Randy Newman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Loneliness
Heart breaks in loneliness.
A frosty morning; daylight repeals it, and I feel loneliness
on the eve of the day.
When it rains,
a swallow wants to denote a song.
But, after that world calls loneliness.
I see the river flowing, and I come closer to the bank.
I heard the river roaring more in loneliness.
When I stay in my study room
thinking past events, my conscience becomes more powerful in loneliness.
It’s better to stay sometimes in loneliness.
We need sometimes to alleviate pains in loneliness.
You see, love often adorns more homage in loneliness.
Loneliness…………………..
When a war ends,
It becomes time to return for soldiers in loneliness;
and we all mourn in loneliness.
Then we realize what peace is!
One day we all have to say the world ‘good bye’ in loneliness.
Yes, loneliness ……….
poem by Bibhakar Dutta
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Get Drunk
Always be drunk.
That's it!
The great imperative!
In order not to feel
Time's horrid fardel
bruise your shoulders,
grinding you into the earth,
Get drunk and stay that way.
On what?
On wine, poetry, virtue, whatever.
But get drunk.
And if you sometimes happen to wake up
on the porches of a palace,
in the green grass of a ditch,
in the dismal loneliness of your own room,
your drunkenness gone or disappearing,
ask the wind,
the wave,
the star,
the bird,
the clock,
ask everything that flees,
everything that groans
or rolls
or sings,
everything that speaks,
ask what time it is;
and the wind,
the wave,
the star,
the bird,
the clock
will answer you:
"Time to get drunk!
Don't be martyred slaves of Time,
Get drunk!
Stay drunk!
On wine, virtue, poetry, whatever!"
poem by Charles Baudelaire
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Spanish Steps Of Rome
The first time I saw her
She was wearing scarves of white
That little spark between us
Took only seconds to ignite
And then it occured to me
Suddenly I was standing there alone
On the spanish steps of rome
I kept searching through the ally
Searching through the catacombe that night
I closed my eyes and threw a coin in the fountain
Then I looked and she was nowhere in sight
I wandered through the holy city
Like a beggar beneath the moon lit dome
Near the spanish steps of rome
I heard a voice as I looked through my fingers
And saw the old monsignor
He gave me his blessing and said
Dont try and please her
And then I heard her singing like some diva
Perched upon her throne
On the spanish steps of rome
Now I know I should have listened
When he warned me not to follow
I noticed that the statues eyes
Were all sunken and hollow
She let those young wolves do the dirty deeds
While she lay there inside her home
On the spanish steps of rome
song performed by by Toto
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Spanish Steps
The first time I saw her
She was wearing scarves of white
That little spark between us
Took only seconds to ignite
And then it occured to me
But suddenly I was standing there alone
On the Spanish steps of Rome
I kept searching through the allies
Kept searching through the catacombes that night
I closed my eyes and threw a coin in the fountain
She was nowhere insight
I wandered through the holy city
Like a beggar beneath the moon lit dome
Near the Spanish steps of Rome
I heard a voice as I looked through my fingers
And saw the old monsigneur
He gave me his blessing and said to me:
song performed by by Toto
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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