Evocation of River and Spirits
in this city
to guess
having no acumen with
numbers and math but
father's over there
in the cup tilted
over
spilling into
o endlessly
it's seams
it seems
from river bank
into memory which
is - already
over-said
overheard redundantly
as 'river
and time'
- this one
now recalled
to Mind, dad
dad
the cloud drift
and the flows
the tides beside
the city
(both sides)
is as ancient
as it always was
& is
as in the beginning
was darkness over deep
water & a word, any word
really would do it,
form something
out of deep, of
dark, of water
which shapes it-
self only by outer
circumstance,
in this case
a word
leading up to
this -
Palisades cliffs
above bridge tilt
toward, always,
currents,
the river
over-
flows north-
wards
tides rare defy-
ing the moon
that other pull,
you
live the other
side of
sand
the palm sewn
swaying adhered
to Mind
x 1
still, to pass the
time now
x 1
the sooty hand
x 1
over black
'mouth'
or word
allude perhaps
to river's at
city's start
up from water
the silver bay
capped, remembering
frigates
x countless
ferries torn
and Tories be-
tween seas
wars
vast to
the east
x duplicating
waves, stretches
the narrows,
the necks with
rocks strewn,
the lonely buoyless
waves over depths
their vespers
intone
once was laughter
spent
seeking out
between bodies
continents
valleys eternally
shifting eluding
rapture
x 1
whisper
contraction
of sentinel
bells against
each of each
reaching
x 2, the clappers
x 20,000
(of bells
anatomy there
is much to
say
(of the
elements,
zinc, copper,
tin, & more
while not for-
getting brass
more commonly
used)
of infusion
into cuppolas
the beating
the shaping
heat also to
be given account
amounts much into
bells conformed
gracefully out
in the end,
but only
as metal,
sharp tongues
blunted can of
bells then speak
tonally only
overtones inviolate
in violent swings
side to side the
hard knock shocks
into, quake into
belfry beyond
dance of iron
bronze overtaking
&
annunciant round
of hammers)
so many dawns
x so many goings
down of the sun
x fortune the lips
x myriad ones gone
before of murmurers
O lover
of thee
I adore
in timbre
thru the
window rings
the arms too
wring out
breath to
breath
x no more
embraces
into indolence
This, just to
reintroduce some
levity
for we (loves)
were many day-ed
x merry
we merrily played
harming no one,
not even the
mouse unmoved
perhaps, watching
perhaps, still,
still, from beneath
the god you insisted
be excluded from
all our nakedness
x 1 too many breaths
exchanged, groped
x many ropes all our
wanting
father loves
with his cup
his pipe songs
of love
of love will he
dance between
the violent fasts
from love,
our mother,
with,
fast around around
& around the danced
living room
phonograph brass
loud plays
where June
curtains sway
me and Mr. Miller
I stand behind
them the curtained
dancer entranced
entered into/
upon a mystery
how one could
be so, well,
swell, so
marvelous &
so cruel, (upon
one silver stem
hangs the metal
tin top jags
tears at
memory edge
opens facts
FACT
that there was love,
there was love after
all
I can see
it smell it
feel it there
dancing round
the living
one dropp Mr.
Maxwell holds,
hold on to &
upon goodness
brown pulled
from below down
& dark into deep
such this is
the riddle it is
all now become
since you
departed, love
since you
departed I shall
count backward by
3's then by 4's
these father
memories
torquing
the
door which once
embraced you now
never lets you
go
x brooms
or releases
now you, love
are new memory
hands emptier
sensitive finger-
tips filligreed
prints your
body hairs
sifted imprinted
touching softly
x all the x's
here accounted
for, listed,
besos as kisses
scribbles, notes,
letters,
no matter
the black or
blue tide
of thee
O lover
what
slips out
ebbs black
back into lapis
lapses into what
self is
uttered/poured,
scored trans-
parent upon
surfaces
faces which are
even
eyes which now
glaze with love/
loss
beside the flue
glaze upon the
pane
the black
mouse remains
stays,
is many,
a multitude
of petals
x 3
the jasmine
unspurned
at last
at last/least
O return
soft Junes
the lips of
which are
sometimes
pink, of
lavender
swollen, as if
to kiss
x memory
x Maxwell the
house the cup
O Mr. Miller
an O'Day serenade
plays close
...'Hi ho trailus
boot whip
boo boo daddy
floy floy'...
the late night
suppers of chops
the peeled onions
the laughter the
potatoes boil
& bubble in the
pot then
father
to dance
the butter in
the sizzle in
the cast iron
pan
their vespers
now descant,
descend
...'How high
the ocean, how
high the moon...
hungry
the
dish it has
all become
feast for
black 'mouth'
& mouse makes again
x 3 the antinomies
a string
of pearls
anemones
& thee O lover
bring all them
back, so many,
to me now
x Pennsylvania 6-500.
poem by Warren Falcon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Scroll For New York City - A Son To His Sums of Eros & Father, Oh! & The River
memory
torques
into soft
teas
June
steeps
turns
steaming
said window
(and torsos)
said prints
views obscured
of nothing
in particular
or special,
but
troubles,
troubles only
of passing birds
enamored-of
(their lighter
bones)
or
are they
cloud and shadow,
merely the steep
sun declining ashen
into New Jersey?
occluded
silhouettes
contrails
glyphs &
Maxwell House sign
'Good To The Last Drop'
the familiar
cup for decades
tipped
tips &
one
(out-spilled)
drop
x 0 suspends
o suspends trembling
reflected in the water
river made of the many
countless drops
x (again) infinity
x (surprised) my
father there
(memento mori)
opening the
can all blue with
the same cup tilted
spilling that dark
brown dropp imprinted
x (the
dove, to recall,
brown, shaped like
said drop, now
flown, or) finally
spilled into water,
river currents
downward, to bottom
pulled sort/sift
my father always
complaining of grift,
a weather man by trade,
a cloud man once a pilot
WW2 drifting often since
enough into sky,
he turns
the silver opener
butterflied
round and round
with effort his
arthritic com-
plaints upon the
ridged silver top
of the can blue
with coffee
'course grind'
the better to drip
with within that
satisfying hiss
compacted air
hissing out
from compression
now released
the smell
then of coffee
fresh not yet
brewed in the
kitchen
the twist of
the edge jagged
silver metal
carefully turned
with fingers to
break the remain-
ing stem of metal
holding the round
to the can entire
unsealed now try
without spilling
the grounds
out
x at least 100 thousand
to guess having no
acumen with numbers
and math but father's
over
there in the cup tilted
over
spilling into
o endlessly
it's seams, it seems
from river bank
into memory which
is, already
over-said
overheard redundantly
as river
and time,
this one
now recalled
to Mind, dad,
dad
the cloud drift
and the flows
the tides beside
the city
both sides
is as ancient
as it always was
& is
as in the beginning
was darkness over deep
water & a word, any word
really would do it,
form something
out of deep, of
dark, of water
which shapes it-
self only by outer
circumstance,
in this case
a word
leading up to
this -
Palisades cliffs
above bridge tilt
toward, always,
currents,
the river
over-
flows north-
wards
tides rare defy-
ing the moon
that other pull,
you
live the other
side of
sand
the palm sewn
swaying adhered
to Mind
x 1
still, to pass the
time now
x 1
the sooty hand
x 1
over black
'mouth'
or word
allude perhaps
to river's at
city's start
up from water
the silver bay
capped, remembering
frigates
x countless
ferries torn
and Tories be-
tween seas
wars
vast to
the east
x duplicating
waves, stretches
the narrows,
the necks with
rocks strewn,
the lonely buoyless
waves over depths
their vespers
intone
once was laughter
spent
seeking out
between bodies
continents
valleys eternally
shifting eluding
rapture
x 1
whisper
contraction
of sentinel
bells against
each of each
reaching
x 2, the clappers
x 20,000
(of bells
anatomy there
is much to
say
(of the
elements,
zinc, copper,
tin, & more
while not for-
getting brass
more commonly
used)
of infusion
into cuppolas
the beating
the shaping
heat also to
be given account
amounts much into
bells conformed
gracefully out
in the end,
but only
as metal,
sharp tongues
blunted can of
bells then speak
tonally only
overtones inviolate
in violent swings
side to side the
hard knock shocks
into, quake into
belfry beyond
dance of iron
bronze overtaking
&
annunciant round
of hammers)
so many dawns
x so many goings
down of the sun
x fortune the lips
x myriad ones gone
before of murmurers
O lover
of thee
I adore
in timbre
thru the
window rings
the arms too
wring out
breath to
breath
x no more
embraces
into indolence
This, just to
reintroduce some
levity
for we (loves)
were many day-ed
x merry
we merrily played
harming no one,
not even the
mouse unmoved
perhaps, watching
perhaps, still,
still, from beneath
the god you insisted
be excluded from
all our nakedness
x 1 too many breaths
exchanged, groped
x many ropes all our
wanting
father loves
with his cup
his pipe songs
of love
of love will
he dance between
the violent fasts
from love,
our mother, with,
fast around around
& around the danced
living room
phonograph brass
loud plays
where June
curtains sway
me and Mr. Miller
(Glenn)
I stand behind
them the curtained
dancer entranced
entered into/
upon a mystery
how one could
be so, well,
swell, so
marvelous &
so cruel, (upon
one silver stem
hangs the metal
tin top jags
tears at
memory edge
opens facts
FACT
that there was love,
there was love after
all
I can see
it smell it
feel it there
dancing round
the living
one dropp Mr.
Maxwell holds,
hold on to &
upon goodness
brown pulled
from below down
& dark into deep
such this is
the riddle it is
all now become
since you
departed, love
since you
departed I shall
count backward by
3's then by 4's
these father
memories
torquing
the
door which once
embraced you now
never lets you
go
x brooms
or releases
now you, love
are new memory
hands emptier
sensitive finger-
tips filligreed
prints your
body hairs
sifted imprinted
touching softly
x all the x's
here accounted
for, listed,
besos as kisses
scribbles, notes,
letters,
no matter
the black or
blue tide
of thee
O lover
what
slips out
ebbs black
back into lapis
lapses into what
self is
uttered/poured,
scored trans-
parent upon
surfaces
faces which are
even
eyes which now
glaze with love/
loss
beside the flue
glaze upon the
pane
the black
mouse remains
stays,
is many,
a multitude
of petals
x 3
the jasmine
unspurned
at last
at last/least
O return
soft Junes
the lips of
which are
sometimes
pink, of
lavender
swollen, as if
to kiss
x memory
x Maxwell the
house the cup
O Mr. Miller
an O'Day serenade
plays close
...'Hi ho trailus
boot whip
boo boo daddy
floy floy'...
the late night
suppers of chops
the peeled onions
the laughter the
potatoes boil
& bubble in the
pot then
father
to dance
the butter in
the sizzle in
the cast iron
pan
their vespers
now descant,
descend
...'How high
the moon...
hungry
the
dish it has
all become
feast for
black 'mouth'
& mouse makes again
x 3 the antinomies
a string
of pearls
anemones
& thee O lover
bring all them
back, so many,
to me now
x Pennsylvania 6-500.
poem by Warren Falcon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Still Life With Coffee Can, Father, River, Bell, Mouse, Lover Fled
[poet's note to the reader:
read the 'x's' as the word
'times' as in multiplication]
This
just to
reintroduce some
levity
for we (loves)
were many day-ed
x merry
we merrily played
harming no one,
not even the
mouse unmoved
perhaps, watching
perhaps, still,
still, from beneath
the god you insisted
be excluded from
all our nakedness
x 1 too many breaths
exchanged, groped
x many ropes all our
wanting
I stand behind
them the curtained
dancer entranced
entered into/
upon a mystery
how one could
be so, well,
swell, so
marvelous &
so cruel upon
one silver stem
hangs the metal
tin top jags
tears at
memory edge
opens facts
now you, love
are new memory
hands emptier
sensitive finger-
tips filigreed
prints your
body hairs
sifted imprinted
touching softly
x all the x's
here accounted
for, listed,
besos as kisses
scribbles, notes,
letters,
no matter
the black or
blue tide
of thee
O lover
what
slips out
ebbs black
back into lapis
lapses into what
self is
uttered/poured,
scored trans-
parent upon
surfaces
faces which are
even eyes which
now glaze with
love/loss
beside the flue
glaze upon the
pane
black
mouse remains
stays,
is many,
a multitude
of petals
x 3
the jasmine
unspurned
at last
at last/least
O return
soft Junes
the lips of
which are
sometimes
pink, of
lavender
swollen, as if
to kiss
x memory
x 3
the antinomies
a string
of pearls
anemones
& thee O lover
bring all them
back, so many,
to me now
memory
torques
into soft
teas
June
steeps
turns
steaming
said window
(and torsos)
said prints
views obscured
of nothing
in particular
or special,
but
troubles,
troubles only
of passing birds
enamored-of
(their lighter
bones)
or
are they
cloud and shadow,
merely the steep
sun declining ashen
into New Jersey?
occluded
silhouettes
contra ils
glyphs &
Maxwell House sign
'Good To The Last Drop'
familiar
cup for decades
tipped
tips &
one
(out-spilled)
drop
x 0 suspends
O suspends trembling
reflected in the water
river made of the many
countless drops
x (again) infinity
x (surprised) my
father there
(memento mori)
opening the
can all blue with
the same cup tilted
spilling that dark
brown dropp imprinted
x (the
dove,
to recall,
brown, shaped like
said drop, now
flown, or)
finally
spilled into water,
river currents
downward, to bottom
pulled sort/sift
my father always
complaining of grift,
a weather man by trade,
a cloud man once a
pilotWW2 drifting
often since enough
into sky
he turns
the silver opener
butterflied
round and round
with effort his
arthritic com-
plaints upon the
ridged silver top
of the can blue
with coffee
'course grind'
the better to drip
with within that
satisfying hiss
compacted air
hissing out
from compression
now released
the smell
then of coffee
fresh not yet
brewed in the
kitchen
the twist of
the edge jagged
silver metal
carefully turned
with fingers to
break the remain-
ing stem of metal
holding the round
to the can entire
unsealed now try
without spilling
the grounds
out
x at least 100 thousand
to guess having no
acumen with numbers
and math but father's
over
there in the cup tilted
over
spilling into
o endlessly
it's seams,
it seems from
river bank
into memory
which is,
already
over-said
overheard
redundantly
as river
and time,
this one
now recalled
to mind,
dad
dad
the cloud drift
and the flows
the tides beside
the city
(both sides)
is as ancient
as it always was
& is
as 'in the beginning
was darkness over deep
water & a word, '
any word really
would do it,
form
something
out of deep,
of dark,
of water
which shapes
itself only
by outer
circumstance
in this case
a word
leading up to
this -
Palisades cliffs
above bridge
allude perhaps
to river at
city's start
up from water
the silver bay
capped, remembering
centuries' frigates
x countless
ferries torn
and Tories be-
tween seas
wars
vast to
the east
x duplicating
waves, stretches
the narrows
the necks with
rocks strewn,
the lonely buoyless
waves over depths
their vespers
intone
once was laughter
spent
seeking out
between bodies
continents
valleys eternally
shifting eluding
rapture
x 1 whisper
contraction
of sentinel
bells against
each of each
reaching
x 2,
the clappers
x 20,000
(of bells
anatomy there
is much to
say
(of the
elements,
zinc, copper,
tin, & more
while not for-
getting brass
more commonly
used)
of infusion
into cuppolas
the beating
the shaping
heat also to
be given account
amounts much into
bells conformed
gracefully out
in the end,
but only
as metal,
sharp tongues
blunted can of
bells then speak
tonally only
overtones inviolate
in violent swings
side to side the
hard knock shocks
into quakes into
belfry beyond
dance of iron
bronze overtaking
& annunciate
round of hammers)
so many dawns
x so many goings
down of the sun
x fortune the lips
x myriad ones gone
before of murmurers
O lover
of thee
I adore
in timbre
thru the
window rings
(the bells)
the arms
of which
too
wring out
breath to
breath
x no more
embraces
into indolence
This
(yet)
again
(late
offering)
just to
reintroduce some
levity
for we
(loves)
were many day-ed
x merry we
merrily played
harming no one,
not even the
mouse unmoved
perhaps, watching
perhaps, still,
still, from beneath
the god you insisted
be excluded from
all our nakedness
poem by Warren Falcon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Of Bells Anatomy There Is Much
of bells
anatomy there
is much to
say
of the
elements,
zinc, copper,
tin, & more
while not for-
getting brass
more commonly
used
of infusion
into cuppolas
the beating
the shaping
heat also to
be given account
amounts much into
bells conformed
gracefully out
in the end
but only
as metal,
sharp tongues
blunted can of
bells then speak
tonally only
overtones inviolate
in violent swings
side to side the
hard knock shocks
into, quakes into
belfry beyond
dance of iron
bronze overtaking
&
annunciant round
of hammers
so many dawns
times so many
goings down of
the sun
O lover
of thee
I adore
in timbre
thru the
window rings
the arms too
cling wring
out
breath to
breath
outreach this
to introduce some
levity
for we (loves)
were many day-ed
times merry
we merrily played
harming no one,
the god you insisted
be excluded from
all our nakedness
many breaths
exchanged, groped
times the many
ropes
all our
wanting
hands emptier
sensitive finger-
tips filligreed
prints your
body hairs
sifted imprinted
touching softly
no matter
the black or
blue tide
of thee
O lover
what
slips out
ebbs black
back into lapis
lapses into what
self is (a bell
shaped fiercely
formed)
uttered/poured,
scored trans-
parent upon
surfaces
faces which are
even
eyes which now
glaze with love/
loss
a multitude
of petals
peels
the jasmine
unspurned
at last
at last/least
O return
soft Junes
the lips curved
out to ring
sing of
which are
sometimes
pink, of
lavender
swollen
as if to kiss
the antinomies
a string
of pearls
anemones
& thee
bring all them
back, so many,
to me now
their vespers
once was laughter
spent
seeking out
between bodies
continents
valleys eternally
shifting eluding
rapture
contraction
of sentinel
bells against
each of each
reaching
the clappers
their constraining
rounds in too too
secure now rafters
poem by Warren Falcon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Some Ways Of Looking At A Black Mouse
[to the reader:
This is part of a series poem...this one
follows 'Instead of You Today One Black Mouse'
which should be read before this one for greater
context. There is a playing going on in both
poems which is not only about love had and lost,
a black mouse that shows up, as well as a dove,
the day before the lover returns permanently
to live in native country of India. There is
a Wallace Stevens' playing with notions of
poetry, meaning, and more, and a playing with
language and signs which shall hopefully lend
some jarring but enjoyable takes/slants/songs/
glyphs.
When you see the 'x's
in the poem, read
'times' as in the
math sign for multi-
plication. & of course
the = sign should
be read as 'equals']
keep saying/
writing 'mouth'
when I want to
speak of the
black 'mouse'
which seems to
have left soon
after it appeared
as you departed.
'Mouth' and
'mouse',
'black mouth',
open and shut.
The window,
the casings
fall, clatter
scattering the
dove brown
upon the space
between the
escape escaping
what is become
poise no
longer.
'Mouth', the
stronger, is.
Is blackness,
I think, insisting
its way past thinking
into mouth or ink
so it is that
lips which are
sometimes pink,
swollen, as if to
kiss, miss the dove
by a wink, and the
mouse is somewhere
else,
at,
passed to
other spaces
still I feel you,
you're here, big
ears, black fur
of Mind
still love, I moan
this morning saying
aloud before the
covers are kicked
he is gone,
hands x 4
he is gone,
feet x 4
he is gone,
lips x 4
he is gone,
heavy groin x 2
he is gone,
heavy groan x 2
the chimney flue
suddenly
in a little
breeze from
above
loosens the ancient
ash from the caked
brick
x countless
number and the
anxious hands, again,
against the grain
x 4
push one finger
x 1
into that ash
writes
x 2 two names
plus 1 subtracted
from the empty
escape
x 1
and another day
of counting
minutes
hours
x seconds
of seconds is
begun begging
Love, yes,
backing in
the floor where we
lay our cluttered
clothes deposed
x at least 3
take me once
again one
x infinity
into your arms
x 2
and leave me when
you/we are done doing
x 0
a mere cypher flown
sheer up the flue
into the blue ash
which now the sky
is
where
(there is
only one
sky)
a dove flies
into some
possibility
of memory
or not
x 35 thousand
x plus the time it
takes for you to exit
shedding skins shells
(I am a shell)
x infinity into
the one drain in-
to ocean reflecting
the ash of what remains
of you on the beach
bathing soft Junes,
the organ grinder
smiles/sings 'te
amo, amor fati'
mellifluously
from the boardwalk
Coney cotton candy
disposed in gales
from breaking
waves, tumbles,
smears, speared
on the weathered
wood
x planks from
many trees
x ants in the
roots lumber-
ing their end-
less burdens
black or red
carapaces as
if shining
sand or sugar
unspun
x grains untold
as hairs, their
bodies follicles
delicate, when
under the June
glass espied
magnified count-
less, collected,
caught upon the
webbed threads
of your large
soft towel with
the palm tree
sewn upon
that I have burned
in the old grate,
a first fire
long awaited
x 30 years since
the last,
undisturbed by
carbon dates
x all times
black mouth
yawns sun into
the window frame
yellow the
other flame
intended name
smears on the
glass an accidental
pane, Mind
x hands touching it
delicate as trespass
what is allowed lace
of vision
x want
= at last a sum
= a remorse felt
memory
torques,
into soft
teas
June
steeps
tur ns
steaming
said window
(and torsos)
said prints
views obscured
of nothing
in particular or
special, but
troubles, troubles
only of passing
birds enamored-of
(their lighter
bones)
or
are they
cloud and shadow,
merely the steep
sun declining ashen
into the Jersey side?
occluded
silhouettes
contrails
glyphs &
Maxwell House
'Good To The Last Drop'
sign,
the familiar
cup for decades
tipped
tips &
one
(out-spilled)
drop
x 0 suspends
o suspends trembling
reflected in the water
river made of the many
countless drops
x (again) infinity
x (surprised) my
father there
(momento mori)
opening the
can all blue with
the same cup tilted
spilling that dark
brown dropp imprinted
x (the
dove, to recall,
brown, shaped like
said drop, now
flown, or) finally
spilled into water,
river currents
downward, to bottom
pulled sort/sift
my father always
complaining of grift,
a weather man by trade,
a cloud man once a pilot
WW2 drifting often since/
enough into sky,
he turns
the silver opener
butterflied
round and round
with effort, his
arthritic com-
plaints upon the
ridged silver top
of the can blue
with coffee
'course grind'
the better to drip
with within &
that satisfying
hiss of compacted
air hissing out
from within
compressed now
released
the smell
then
of coffee fresh
not yet brewed
in the kitchen
the twist of
the edge jagged
silver metal
carefully turned
with fingers to
break the remain-
ing stem of metal
holding the round
to can entire
unsealed now try
without spilling
the grounds
out
x at least 100 thousand
to guess having no
acumen with numbers
and math but father's
over
there in the cup tilted
over spilling into
o endlessly
it's seams, it seems
from river bank
into memory which
is, already
over-said
overheard redundantly
as river
and time,
this one
now recalled
to Mind, dad,
dad
the cloud drift
and the flows
the tides beside
the city
both sides
is as ancient
as it always was
& is
as in the beginning
was darkness over deep
water & a word, any word
really would do it,
form something
out of deep, of
dark, of water
which shapes it-
self only by outer
circumstance,
in this case
a word
leading up to
this -
Palisades cliffs
above bridge tilt
toward, always,
currents, the river
over-
flows north-
wards
tides rare defy-
ing the moon
that other pull,
you
live the other
side of
sand
the palm sewn
swaying adhered
to Mind
x 1
still, to pass the
time now
x 1
the sooty hand
x 1
over black
'mouth'
or word 'mouse'
allude perhaps
to river at
city's start
up from water
the silver bay
capped, remembering
frigates
x countless
ferries torn
and Tories be-
tween seas
wars
vast to
the east
x duplicating
waves, stretches
the narrows,
the necks with
rocks strewn,
the lonely buoyless
depths their vespers
intone
I am, unkindly,
left remembering
once was laughter
spent
seeking out
between bodies
valleys eternally
shifting eluding
rapture
x 1
whisper
hand over 'mouse'
or 'mouth' conjured
x 1 more
contraction
of sentinel
bells against
each of each
reaching
x 2, the legs
x 4, the lips
x myriad ones gone
before, of murmurers
O lover
of thee
I adore
the arms
x no more
embraces
This, just to
reintroduce some
levity
for we
were many day-ed
x merry
we merrily played
harming no one,
not even the
mouse unmoved
perhaps, watching
perhaps, still,
still, from beneath
the god you insisted
be excluded from
all our nakedness
x 1 too many breaths
exchanged, groped
x many ropes all our
wanting
father loves
with his cup
his pipe songs
of love
of love will
he dance between
the violent fasts
from love,
our mother, with,
fast around around
& around the danced
living room
phonograph brass
loud plays
where June
curtains sway
me and Mr. Miller
(Glenn)
I stand behind
them the curtained
dancer entranced
entered into/
upon a mystery
how one could
be so, well,
swell, so
marvelous &
so cruel, (upon
one silver stem
hangs the metal
tin top jags
tears at
memory edge
opens facts
FACT
that there was love,
there was love after
all
I can see
it smell it
feel it there
dancing round
the living
one dropp Mr.
Maxwell holds,
hold on to &
upon goodness
brown pulled
from below down
& dark into deep
such this is
the riddle it is
all now become
since you
departed, love
since you
departed I shall
count backward by
3's then by 4's
the
door which once
embraced you now
never lets you
go
x brooms
or releases
x all the x's
here accounted
for, listed,
besos as kisses
scribbles, notes,
letters,
no matter
the black or
blue tide
of thee
O lover
what
slips out
ebbs black
back into lapis
lapses into what
self is
uttered/poured,
scored trans-
parent upon
surfaces
faces which are
even
eyes which now
glaze with love/
loss
beside the flue
glaze upon the
pane
the black
mouse remains
stays,
is many,
a multitude
of petals
x 3
the jasmine
unspurned
at last
at last/least
O return
soft Junes
the lips of
which are
sometimes
pink, of
lavender
swollen, as if
to kiss
x memory
x Maxwell the
house the cup
O Mr. Miller
an O'Day serenade
plays close
...'Hi ho trailus
boot whip
boo boo daddy
floy floy'...
the late night
suppers of chops
the peeled onions
the laughter the
potatoes boil
& bubble in the
pot then
father
to dance
the butter in
the sizzle in
the cast iron
pan
their vespers
now descant,
descend
...'How high
the moon...
x 1 black 'mouth'
hungry
the
dish it has
all become
feast for
black 'mouth'
& mouse makes again
x 3 the antinomies
a string
of pearls
anemones
& thee O lover
bring all them
back, so many,
to me now
x Pennsylvania 6-500.
poem by Warren Falcon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fragments Beginning With A Line By Berryman
for Karthik
Childness let's have us honey
flame intended
name smeared
on the glass
an accidental
pane
x hands touching it
delicate
as trespass
what is allowed
lace of
vision
x want
= at last a sum
= at last a remorse
felt
a memory
sunk into
soft teas
steeps
turns
steami ng
said window
said prints,
views obscured
of nothing
in particular,
or special,
troubles only,
only of passing
birds enamored
of
(their lighter
bones)
or
are they
cloud and shadow?
merely the steep
sun declining ashen
into the Jersey side?
O come lover
back
the floor where we
lay times upon boards
the cluttered
clothes the
depositions
x at least 3
and take me once
again one
x infinity
into your arms
x 2
leave me when
you/we are done doing
x 0
a mere cypher flown
sheer up the flue
into the blue ash
which now the sky is
where
(there is only one
sky)
a dove flies
into some possibility
of memory
or not
x 35 thousand
x plus the time it
takes for you to exit
shedding skins, shells
(am a shell,
water you?
you decide)
x infinity into
the one drain in-
to ocean reflecting
blue sky of ash
into what remains
of you on the beach
bathing soft Junes
the organ grinder
smiles/sings 'amor
fati' mellifluously
the boardwalk on
x planks from
many trees
x ants in the
roots lumber
their endless
burdens black
or red carapaces
shining as if
sand
x grains untold
as hairs their
bodies follicles
delicate when
under the glass
espied
over-spilling into
o endlessly
it's seams, it seems
into memory
which is, already
over-said
overheard redundantly
a river
and time,
this one
recalled,
the cloud drift
and the river
the tides beside
the city both sides
is as ancient
as it always was
& is
in the beginning
was darkness
over deep water
& a word, any word
really would do
form something
out of deep, of
dark, of water
which shapes it-
self only by outer
circumstance
in this case
a word
leading up to
this
contraction
of bellies
against
each
x 2, and legs
x 4, and lips
x myriad ones gone
before of murmurs
O lover
of thee
I adore
I am unkindly
left remembering
once was laughter
spent
seeking out
between bodies'
valleys eternally
shifting eluding
capture
this
just to re-
introduce some
levity for we
were many day-ed
x merry
merrily played
harming no one
not even the
mouse unmoved
perhaps, watching
perhaps, still,
still, from beneath
the god you insisted
be excluded from
all our nakedness
x 1 too many breaths
exchanged, groped
x many ropes all our
wanting
the curtained
dancer entranced
entered into
upon a mystery
how one could
be so, well,
so marvelous
& so cruel too
as one wills
a silver stem
sharp the metal
top jags memory-
edge tears open
facts
that there was love,
there was love after
all
I could see
it smell it
feel it there
dancing round
the livingroom
one holds
on to & upon
goodness brown
pulled from below
down & dark & deep
such is so
this is the
riddle it is
all now become
since you
departed, love
since you
departed I shall
count backward by
3's then 4's the
door which once
embraced you now
never lets you
go
no matter
the black or
blue tide
of thee
O lover
what
slips out
ebbs black
back into
lapis
lapses into what
self is uttered/
poured scored
transparent upon
surfeit surface
faces
which are
even
eyes which now
glaze with love
lost
beside the flue
marked upon the
pane blue
the mouse
black remains
is many
a multitude
of petals
x 3
the jasmine
unspurned
at last at
last/least
return
soft Junes
the lips of
which are
sometimes
pink of
lavender
swollen as
if to kiss
x 3 the antinomies
a string of pearls
& thee O lover
back to me
playing
loud where the
curtains sway
I stand behind
them the curtained
dancer entranced
entered into
upon a mystery
the organ grinder
smiles/sings 'amor
fati' mellifluously on
poem by Warren Falcon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Poem In Fragments Beginning With A Line From Berryman, Black Mouse Series Ensuing
[the poem begins with a line by John Berryman ending with the word 'honey']
Childness let's have us honey, flame intended,
names smeared on the glass, an accidental pane
times hands touching it delicate as trespass,
what is allowed lace of vision times want equals
at last a sum equals at last a remorse felt,
a memory - sunk into soft teas - steeping, turns
steaming said window said prints/views obscured
of nothing in particular or special, troubles only,
only of passing birds enamored of (their lighter
bones) or are they cloud and shadow? merely the
steep sun declining ashen into the Jersey side?
*
O come lover back the floor where we lay a'times
upon boards the cluttered clothes the depositions
times at least three and take me once again one
times infinity into your arms times two leave me
when you/we are done doing times zero a mere cypher
flown sheer up the flue into the blue ash which now
the sky is where (there is only one sky) a dove flies
into possibility of memory or not times countless
thousands times plus the time it takes for you to
exit shedding skins, shells (am a shell, water you?
you decide) times infinity into the one drain in-
*
to ocean reflecting blue sky of ash blew into what
remains of you on the beach bathing soft Junes,
boardwalk organ grinder smiling/sings 'amor fati'
mellifluously on as hairs their bodies follicles
delicate when under the glass espied over-spills
into o endlessly it's seams, it seems, into memory
which is already over-said overheard redundantly a
river and time, this one recalled, the cloud drift
and the river the tides beside the city both sides
is as ancient as it always was and is - in the beginning
was darkness over deep water and a word, any word
*
really would do form something out of deep, of dark,
of water which shapes only by outer circumstance itself
in this case a word leading up to this contraction of
bellies against each times two, and legs times four,
and lips times myriad ones gone before - of murmurs
O lover of thee I adore - I am unkindly left remembering
once was laughter spent seeking out between bodies' valleys
eternally shifting eluding capture, this, just to reintroduce
some levity for we were many day-ed times merry-merrily
played harming no one not even the mouse unmoved per-
haps, watching perhaps, still, still, from beneath the
*
god you insisted be excluded from all our nakedness
times one too many breaths exchanged, groped times
many ropes all our wanting the curtained dancer en-
tranced entered into upon a mystery how one could be
so, well, so marvelous and so cruel too as one wills
memory - an edge tears open: Fact: that there was love,
there was love after all I could see it smell it feel
it there dancing round the living room one holds on
to, and upon goodness worn out pulled from below down
and dark and deep such is this so it is the riddle it
is all now become since you departed, love, since you
*
departed I shall count backward by threes then fours
the door which once embraced you now never lets you
go no matter the black or blue tide of thee O lover,
what slips out ebbs black back into lapis, lapses in-
to what self is uttered/poured scored transparent upon
surfeit surface/faces which are even eyes which now
glaze with love lost beside the flue marked upon the
pane blue the mouse black upon the floor remains is
many, a multitude of petals times three the jasmine
unspurned at last at last/least return soft Junes the
lips of which are sometimes pink of lavender swollen
*
as if to kiss times three the antinomies a string of
pearls and thee O lover to me back 'splaying shyly
where the curtains sway/stand behind them the curtained
dancer entranced/entered into upon a mystery the organ
grinder smiles/sings 'amor fati' mellifluously on
poem by Warren Falcon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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All I Need Is........
All i need is the food that i eat and to love you,
All i need is the room that i sleep in and to love you,
All i need is the air that i breath and to love you,
All i need is the water that i bath and to love you,
All i need is the fish that i eat and to love you,
All i need is the letter that i am writing and to love you,
All i need is the meat that i eat and to love you,
All i need is the tea that i drink and to love you,
All i need is the river that i swim in and to love you,
All i need is the seed that i plant and to love you,
All i need is the bed that i use and to love you,
All i need is the water that flows beside me and to love,
All i need is the bed of roses and to love you,
All i need is the garden of love and to love you,
All i need is your valley of love and to love,
All i need is the kiss of your lips and to love you,
All i need is the peace around you and to love you,
All i need is the care that is around you and to love you,
All i need is the muse of your love and to love you,
All i need is the rainbow up high in the sky and to love you,
All i need is the deep blue sea and to love you,
All i need is a well laid bed and to love you,
All i need is a lovely boat and to love you,
All i need is the romance of your body and to love you,
All i need is the nakedness of your body and to love,
All i need is the sweet blues of your love and to love you,
All i need is the sweet songs from the birds and to love you,
For life is all about the true love around us.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Joyride
Oh my sweet lover,
Save the last penny for me my love;
And let us play along only with the tunes of lovers!
Like the Hall of Fame and the cross cultures around.
Deep down in my heart is my mind on you always,
So ris eup and shine and never be late!
For being with you is always like the sweet songs of love;
Kiss my lips and never look back on this love.
You dancing shoes are needed tonight so,
Come and let me take you on a joyride with my heart;
And let me bring out the sunshine of light out of the darkness!
The church bells are ringing for you and i but,
This love is stronger than the sounds of the bells!
For you've got heaven in your eyes my sweet one.
Oh my dark lake of love,
Let me take a joyride with you!
For you are always on my mind and,
The sweet songs of love flows around you always;
For you are the one for me on this joyride.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Arabah
My tears bath my pillow in the night like a river and,
My bed soaks all around me in the night like a lake;
But to whom shall i keep my peace with when,
I am lost in the ocean of the night?
Praise so be to you who understands my problem,
For how long can i swim to you on this river of love?
I am lost, naked lonely;
And i need your ture love to carry me on.
I am lost on this side of the river and,
How can i swim through this ocean of love?
Since, the woes of the night is all over me.
You can hear the noise of the river and,
You also see the pains to my movements;
But the sea of love to my heart is like this lake around me.
Come and carry me over this ocean,
Come and take me to the other side of love;
And like two lovers lost in the deep blue sea,
Why should my night be so long on your love?
This night needs an escape to your love zone,
So come oh my lover and take me across the sea;
And, why should this trap run over me without my lover?
For the cold of the night had also traped me than thought.
Come oh my lover and see me through,
For i am very lonely and naked;
And there comes the river of my tears again.
I have to overcome this lake and rushed into the ocean,
For your sweet love is enough to see me through the waves of the sea.
Why should this occur to me when, i am cold and lonely?
For a beggar knows his own lover and the blind knows his own way;
But i am alone and lost in my dreams.
Come oh my lover,
Come and see mee through;
Arabah is your name and, i will overcome this water by your sweet love.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dance
dance the river is there to rise
dance touch me and close your eyes
dance the winds will touch your feet
just dance and dance feel the beat
dance the river will find its mouth
dance east and west north and south
dance the river will find my lips
dance the poles to move my hips
dance the bees are dancing hives
dance the trees are swaying lives
dance the waves are breaking through
dance the sides for me and you
dance the birds are dancing flights
dance the stars are dancing nights
dance the currents dancing veins
dance in soils dancing grains
dance the last atom cutting a knot
just dance and dance until you cannot
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Precious
The ebb and flow of the tide
Will carry me forth into your arms
And though Ill miss you tonight
The thought of your love keeps me warm
As the moon comes out over the water
Precious and too sweet
I shall pray love your soul to keep
The river sleeping sound
I shall be dreaming deep of you
Soul will keep thee, rife and weepy, calling out to you
The dip and roar of the crowd
Will dizzy me forth into your arms
And if we pass it all around
Well be of the same point of view
As the world spins round, here everafter
Precious and too sweet
I shall pray love your soul to keep
The river sleeping sound
I shall be dreaming deep of you
On a bed of silver sand
Ill take you lightly by the hand
And well dance on by the moon
I shall be dreaming deep of you
Shattered, dreamy, calm and sweetly, fool enough for two
When the stars play hide and seek
I shall be dreaming deep of you (I shall be dreaming)
Precious and too sweet
I shall pray love your soul to keep (I shall be praying)
On a bed of silver sand
Ill take you lightly by the hand (I shall be dreaming)
And well dance on by the moon
I shall be dreaming deep of you (I shall be praying)
song performed by by Erasure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Making Love To A Black Woman
How do you make love, to a Black Woman?
How do you make love to a Black Woman,
Romantically and Patiently;
Take the time to make love to her mind.
Fulfill all of her midnight wishes.
Cover her entire body with soft wet kisses.
Tell her, so that she will know!
There's no place on her body
your tongue won't go.
And, when you love a Black Woman,
you love her real slow.
How do you make love, to a Black Woman?
How do you make love to a Black Woman,
Passionately and Sincerely;
Let her Sweetness become your Weakness.
Do not use just the Penis, But include your ear.
Listen to the sweet sound of her moans
and see what you hear.
Feel the warmth and care of her loving embrace.
Place your mouth on hers and savor the taste.
How do you make love, to a Black Woman?
How do you make love to a Black Woman,
Sensually and Honestly;
Say what you mean and mean what you say.
Tell her that you love her,
more and more with each passing day.
Let all of the fantasies that dance in her head.
Become her moonlight reality
when it's time to go to bed.
Kiss and lick all over her body
until you find all her right spots.
Touch and caress her soft skin
and make her real hot.
Mutual satisfaction is a lover's plan.
Love her, cause you are in love with her.
She's your Woman and your her Man.
How do you make love, to a Black Woman?
How do you make love to a Black Woman,
Lovingly and completely;
Love her until her 'Screams of Passion'
are all you that hear.
Suck on her neck and stick
your tongue in her ear.
Hold her soft round ass
in the palm of your hands.
Let her sexual wishes
become your loving commands.
Love your Black Woman with
your Mind, Body and Soul.
She's the most precious gift on this Earth.
She's worth her weight in gold.
How do you make love to a Black Woman?
There's only one true way to start.
To make love to a Black Woman,
just give her your Heart.
poem by Samuel Newton
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River And Sea
Under the light of the silver moon
We two sat, when our hearts were young;
The night was warm with the breath of June,
And loud from the meadow the cricket sung,
And darker and deeper, oh, love, than the sea,
Were your dear eyes, as they beamed to me.
The moon hung clear, and the night was still:
The waters reflected the glittering skies;
The nightingale sang on the distant hill;
But sweeter than all was the light in your eyes -
Your dear, dark eyes, your eyes like the sea -
And up from the depths shone love for me.
My heart, like a river, was mad and wild -
And a river is not deep, like the sea;
But I said yout love was the love of a child,
Compared with the love that was felt by me;
A river leaps noisily, kissing the land,
But the sea is fathomless, deep and grand.
I vowed to love you, for ever and ever!
I called you cold, on that night in June,
But my fierce love, like a reckless river,
Dashed on, and away, and was spent too soon;
While yours - ah, yours was deep like the sea;
I cheated you, love, but you died for me!
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Speak The Word
Unsettled hearts
Promise what they cant deliver
Bring me the wine
And the cold night air to clear my head
Gray matter memory house
Master of this trembling flesh
Steady still my doubts
Let me speak the word that precedes bliss
Let me speak the word
Let me speak the word
Love love love love love love love love
Let me speak the word
Let me speak the word
Love love love love love love love love
Let me speak the word
Let me speak the word
Let me speak the word
Let me speak the word
These weakened knees
Have not touched ground or pew in ages
I havent bowed my head
I offer thanks to any God or to ask for favors
But watch me now
Im falling down
Praying
To speak the word that precedes bliss
To speak the word
To speak the word
Love love love love love love love love
Let me speak the word
Let me speak the word
Love love love love love love love love
Let me speak the word
Let me speak the word
Let me speak the word
Let me speak the word
song performed by by Tracy Chapman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dance of Love
I ride on your thighs and I embrace you with my both hands
The wind scraps our deep love dance off with the sudden gusts
Our swift flicks it several times, its tip just touching the wet sand.
The sky is blue and leaves of our tree are covered with orange rust.
My hands moved down your body before reaching your hips
The predation tremor in the early life dance of thrills flounder
Cradling my body in your arms my warm lips are against your lips
Your thoughts made me shiver as my eyes wandered endlessly over
You take small steps and make the turn into and become a part of my dance.
In the next instant an explosion of dawn light and the stirrings of happiness herald
You gonna take me to a place where I can shine, take me high feel so high trance
I keep the new world in the grain of green, I see love in your eyes of emerald.
You keep real close, lover whispers to my ear, I fly to the heavens’ high
You run your fingers through my hair, then dance your lips in orbital circle
Yet another rip in the space time continuum, and a return of perfect fry,
Our love makes slain the sentinel, a deity who is surrounding our crepuscle
poem by Marieta Maglas
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The River That Murmurs
I will ask the river, that flows serene
I will speak to the sky
I will ask the river that murmurs
Not to ask me why
I cannot speak for myself.
That time has long since passed me by.
The river can murmur and sing
Unspent by passion: my voice
Will break like a terribly taut string.
My words will be grammatically and academically
Twisted (like that leafless tree) , unfortunately!
I want the river to speak, to speak
Alone, alone with thee.
The river can, softly and without tears
Tell you my dreams and my fears
I know you will listen:
And while city lights in the water glisten
You wont see the tears that shine on my face
No, that is a serious, sentimental place
That only I know;
Flow, river, flow.
Flow, river flow.
Speak to the only love I know.
Daybreak approaches soon
You and he by the light of the moon
Will murmur whilst I -
Will wait for you to bring me his reply.
poem by Rani Turton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Washing Of The Water
River, river carry me on
Living river carry me on
River, river carry me on
To the place where I come from
So deep, so wide, will you take me on your back for a ride
If I should fall, would you swallow me deep inside
River, show me how to float
I feel like Im sinking down
Thought that I could get along
But here in this water
My feet wont touch the ground
I need something to turn myself around
Going away, away towards the sea
River deep, can you lift up and carry me
Oh roll on though the heartland
til the sun has left the sky
River, river carry me high
til the washing of the water make it all alright
Let your waters reach me like she reached me tonight
Letting go, its so hard
The way its hurting now
To get this love untied
So tough to stay with thing
cause if I follow through
I face what I denied
I get those hooks out of me
And I take out the hooks that I sunk deep in your side
Kill that fear of emptiness, loneliness I hide
River, oh river, river running deep
Bring me something that will let me get to sleep
In the washing of the water will you take it all away
Bring me something to take this pain away
song performed by by Peter Gabriel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Oh, FATHER! - FEEL MY Untold LOVE! (Part-1)
At schooltime, my father left me at house gringo!
Yet I Kept my tender heart at home of lingo!
When I quested, for fate “he is right as rain.”
Tender tears exploded like MISSILES yet in vein;
Mother, oh mother, I am still your little son!
Father, Oh father, I love thee till I am done!
While I missed mother’s love and father’s stories
All the night I stood without sleep with many worries
I asked the god, why two legs and hands!
Why not two bodies and two souls for errands!
Mother, oh mother, I am still your little son!
Father, Oh father, I love thee till I am done!
Sugarcane Juice, peanuts and berries!
Our green fields, summer holidays and holy tours!
When thousand memories flashes in mind, now,
How much I miss mom's care! How much I miss dad’s love!
Mother, oh mother, I am still your little son!
Father, Oh father, I love thee till I am done!
The small buns you bought for me still smell good,
The grapes brought, coming from city is still my favorite food;
The fruits you brought me with roots; are they heaven sent?
Yet I didn’t pay any rent pay as you are my parent!
Mother, oh mother, I am still your little son!
Father, Oh father, I love thee till I am done!
Do you know who my MAHATMA is? Oh, my brother!
He is not Mandela, nor Gandhi but my father
Who taught me A to Z rather?
What to do and what not to do, I gather!
Mother, oh mother, I am still your little son!
Father, Oh father, I love thee till I am done!
When I think of all the things you gave to me:
Your sacrifices in food; love and affection are some to name,
............................................. ................................................. .....
*A big NOTICE BOARD: Oops! Sorry the poem is NOT completed. This is just break time! Now continue Your reading in part 2 the poem.
Oh, FATHER! - FEEL MY Untold LOVE! (Part-2) contin'd in part 2.. Read it.
poem by Harindhar Reddy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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By The Ocean (For Dislocated Heart)
I stand by the ocean,
Breathing in the crisp air of night fall,
Watching the moon slipping away,
As the sky melts into the sea;
An endless darkness.
I can feel my mind falling into its depths,
Thinking about every breath I take,
About the world above,
And the world below.
Questions fill my mind,
Questions of life, living, and existence,
Yet still I stand,
Silent and still.
The gentle breeze in the palm trees,
Brushing my hair across my face.
The wind pushes my dress against my legs,
The feeling almost mimicking that of the water.
I can feel the cool spray of the ocean with each wave,
A giant lung breathing the same air as I.
It is a calm entity existing to exist.
A world so unknown and full of wonder,
Yet so simple from above…
I breath a sigh and close my eyes,
The sight of the waves imprinted on my eyelids,
The scent filling my nose and mouth,
The water touching my skin,
The taste of the salt on my tongue,
The repetitive sound of the water endlessly fill my mind.
My feet buried in sand as if to be innocent sand crabs.
A moment so calm and simple,
Yet so meaningful,
If you take the time to experience it,
A moment in which nothing else matters,
Nothing but the water, the sand, and living.
Everything else, like the sky,
Melts away into the sea,
Into the endless dark abyss.
And so I stand,
By the water,
Living and breathing.
If only the world would stop for a moment,
A moment to live and breathe too;
So relaxing and yet so eye opening.
The silence of the night wrapping around me,
The ocean rocking me into sweet oblivion.
Until I have to open my eyes and walk inside,
Back to reality,
But until then,
I'll just stand here,
By the ocean.
poem by Bethany Maxwell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Real World
Mr. trouble come walkin this way
Year gone by feels like one long day but Im alive
And Im feelin all right
Well I run that hard road outta heartbreak city
Built a roadside carnival out of hurt and self-pity, it was all wrong
Well now Im moving on
Aint no church bells ringing
Aint no flags unfurled
Its just me and you and the love were bringing
Into the real world
Into the real world
I built a shrine in my heart, isnt pretty to see
Made out of fools gold memory and tears cried
Now Im headin over the rise
Im searchin for one clear moment of love and truth
I still got a little faith but what I need is some proof tonight
Im lookin for it in your eyes
Aint no church bells ringing
Aint no flags unfurled
Just me and you and the faith were bringing into the real world
Into the real world
Well tonight I just wanna shout
I feel my soul waist deep and sinking into this black river of doubt
I just wanna rise and walk along the riverside
And when the morning comes baby I dont wanna hide
Ill stand right at your side with my arms open wide
(killer guitar solo here)
Well tonight I just wanna shout
I feel my soul waist deep and sinking into this black river of doubt
I just wanna rise and walk along the riverside
til the morning comes
Ill stand right by your side
I wanna find some answers I wanna ask for some help
Im tired of running scared baby lets get our bags packed
Well take it here to hell and heaven and back
And if love is hopeless, hopeless at best
Come on put on your party dress, its ours tonight
And were goin with the tumblin dice
Aint no church bells ringing
Aint no flags unfurled
Its just me and you and the hope were bringing into the real world
Well into the real world
Oh into the real world
song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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