Nantucket
Flowers through the window
lavender and yellow
changed by white curtains –
Smell of cleanliness –
Sunshine of late afternoon –
On the glass tray
a glass pitcher, the tumbler
turned down, by which
a key is lying – And the
immaculate white bed
poem by William Carlos Williams
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Related quotes
Tumbler Of Glass
Take it my daughter
this tumbler of glass
fill it with the flame from the hearth
close to your being
in a tight clasp
Keep my daughter
this tumbler of glass
Even if its glow, tenderly
seeps out
let no one ever know what it was
the glass must'nt crack
your gait mustn't flag
filled to the brim
don't let it overflow
don't let your thirst
spill across
Take it my daughter
this tumbler of glass
poem by Harbhajan Singh
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Memories In Yellow
In August, she hung yellow curtains in the window
She danced and sang along to the radio
She flung paint across a canvas and
Laughed when the walls were splattered
And when she awoke in his arms
They were bathed in the yellow light from the window.
In August, she put yellow flowers on the table
She smiled at the fingered shadows they cast on the floor
She sketched them on every page of a notebook and
Drew them in the margins of her newspaper
And when she looked into the mirror
She saw yellow flowers reflected in the glass.
In August, a yellow cat lived in the alleyway
She scratched its ears until it purred
She took photographs of the sunlight on its fur and
Thought about beginnings and endings
And, in the dark of the night, lost in dreams,
She journeyed with the yellow cat to desert sands.
December comes
Curtains fall,
lovers leave.
Flowers fade,
mirrors crack.
Cats wander,
and deserts
become oceans.
poem by Frumious Bandersnatch
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In Lavender And Green
Will you come to me in lavender and green?
With bells about your feet,
And music in your step,
When you come to me in lavender and green.
Will you come to me in lavender and green?
With sunshine in your eyes,
And springtime in your hair,
When you come to me in lavender and green.
Will you come to me in lavender and green?
With softness in your words,
And healing in your touch,
When you come to me in lavender and green.
Will you come to me in lavender and green?
With your name upon my lips,
And delight within your kiss,
When you come to me in lavender and green.
Will you come to me in lavender and green,
In dreams at midnight’s rest,
Or afternoon’s recline?
Come then to me in lavender and green.
Will you come to me in lavender and green,
At the setting of the sun,
When my days are nearly run?
Still come to me in lavender and green?
Will you come to me in lavender and green,
If I wait at heaven’s door,
As I waited once before,
While you walked to organ’s tune,
On a summer’s afternoon.
Now dressed in springtime hues?
My love, companion, muse,
A vision still I see,
Dressed in lavender and green.
poem by Greg Davidson
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At Glan-y-Wern
White-robed against the threefold white
Of shutter, glass and curtains' lace,
She flashed into the evening light
The brilliance of her gipsy face:
I saw the evening in her light.
Clear, from the soft hair to the mouth,
Her ardent face made manifest
The sultry beauty of the South:
Below, a red rose, climbing, pressed
Against the roses of her mouth.
So, in the window's threefold white,
O'ertrailed with foliage like a bower,
She seemed, against the evening light,
Amongst the flowers herself a flower,
A tiger-lily sheathed in white.
poem by Arthur Symons
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That Afternoon
i was there again
standing by the side of the old
glass windows
hazy because of the dust
it is hazy, hazy
the sea is linen white
the coconut trees as tall as they are very old
planted perhaps before the war
before the Japanese came
and ravished the spirits of our innocent people
i was there again
standing on a moment
always seeing
that rusty van parked
without its front wheel
nobody from there is asking
what is happening
it is hazy, as hazy as dusts
on that old glass window
then a black bird flies through
it breaking the thin old glass
into shattered pieces
the afternoon ended
on that sudden noise
i am telling you
i am not shocked because
i am not new to this
how can i be? i am as old and as
tall as that coconut tree
i am from this place
and i know each grain of sand
on the shore
of that white linen sea.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Absences
It's snowing this afternoon and there are no flowers.
There is only this sound of falling, quiet and remote,
Like the memory of scales descending the white keys
Of a childhood piano--outside the window, palms!
And the heavy head of the cereus, inclining,
Soon to let down its white or yellow-white.
Now, only these poor snow-flowers in a heap,
Like the memory of a white dress cast down . . .
So much has fallen.
&n bsp; &nb sp; & nbsp; And I, who have listened for a step
All afternoon, hear it now, but already falling away,
Already in memory. And the terrible scales descending
On the silent piano; the snow; and the absent flowers abounding.
poem by Donald Justice
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Glass War
Glass war, glass war, glass war, glass war, it's a glass war
Glass war, glass war, it's a glass war
Glass war, glass war
It's a glass war
Cause you can see right through the poisen
It's a glass war
Cause we all know the activeties
It's a glass war
Cause it's made of smoke and mirrors
It's a glass war
It's a glass war
It's a glass war
Cause only poor men are dyin in the
Gas war
Cause we know why it was started
It's an ass war
Cause the president's an asshole
It's an ass war
It's a glass war
It's a gas war
Cause the starters are all victims of the
Glass war
The slogan men were starters of the
Last war
Now the southern men are starters of the
Glass war
It's a Glass War
It's a Glass war
And the shards are gunna start another glass war
And the shards are gunna start another glass war
And the shards are gunna start another glass war
And the shards are gunna start another glass war
And the shards are gunna start another glass war
It's a glass war
It's a glass war
song performed by by NOFX
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Approaching Lavender
If youd like to spend the afternoon approaching lavender
Youll feel just fine but one things sure
Youll never be the same
If youd like to try your hand at understanding lavender
Then you must be very sure
That life is not a game
You might even learn a thing or two approaching lavender
Youll soon be on a one night tour
Forgetting your own name
You wont need a reason just to be alone with lavender
For the light so warm and pure
Will draw you like a flame
The colors that surround you there will be the shade of lavender
Shadows dancing everywhere
Like flowers in the rain
You will find your tongues on fire while lying next to lavender
With words you never spoke before
And will not speak again
Oh sweet lavender I understand you perfectly
There is no way that I can see
You living by yourself
Oh sweet lavendar I must be with you constantly
Your presence means so much to me
Much more that life itself
Oh sweet lavender as fragrant as the name you bear
Please cast away the clothes you wear
And give your love to me
Oh sweet lavender your smile is like the golden sun
Id love to see you laugh and run
As naked as the sea
If youd like to spend the afternoon approaching lavender
Dont try and get the best of her
She will not share the blame
If youd like to try your hand at understanding lavender
Then you must be very sure
That life is not a game
There is no shame
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mexican Wine
He was killed by a celular phone explosion
They scattered his ashes across the ocean
The water was used to make baby loation
The wheels of promotion, were set into motion
But the sun still shines in the summer time
I'll be yours if you'll be mine
I tried to change, but I changed my mind
I think I'll have another glass of Mexican Wine
She lived alone in a small apartment
Across the street from the health department
She left her pills in the glove compartment
That was the afternoon her heart went
And the sun still shines in the summer time
I'll be yours if you'll be mine
I tried to change, but I changed my mind
I think I'll have another glass of Mexican Wine
I think I'll have another glass of Mexican Wine
I used to fly for United Airlines
Then i got fired for reading High Times
My license expired in almost no time
Now I'm retired and I think that's fine
Because the sun still shines in the summer time
I'll be yours if you'll be mine
I tried to change, but I changed my mind
I think I'll have another glass of Mexican Wine
Because the sun still shines in the summer time
I'll be yours if you'll be mine
I tried to change, but I changed my mind
I think I'll have another glass of Mexican Wine
I think I'll have another glass of Mexican Wine
Wont you have another glass of Mexican Wine?
song performed by by Fountains Of Wayne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Things I Love
I love the sun
I love lying in the sun, relaxing on a lounge
Working hard for a cold glass of sweet tea
Playing in the water, fishing in the late afternoon
I love the sun very much
But not as much as I love you
I love a glass of wine
I love a glass of red wine beside the company of a lady
Talking over the day, bathing in the winelight
Listening to soft music by a fire together
I love a glass of wine very much
But not as much as I love you
I love the words
I love forming the words into meaningful tapestries
Searching for just the right phrase, the perfect sound
Projecting what’s on my heart to you, good reader
I love the words very much
But not as much as I love you
I love the rain
I love sitting by the window, my breath fogged on the cool glass
Contemplating a quiet moment, my thoughts far away
Watering the earth to make good things grow
I love the rain very much
But not as much as I love you
I love many things
I love so many things about this life I can’t list them all
Parties, meals, a job well done, victory, cleansing tears and dogs
Small town softball games and walking along a forest trail
I love many things very much
And yet, my dear, I love you much more
poem by David Terry
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Shore Birds
While I think of them they are growing rare
after the distances they have followed
all the way to the end for the first time
tracing a memory they did not have
until they set out to remember it
at an hour when all at once it was late
and newly silent and the white had turned
white around them then they rose in their choir
on a single note each of them alone
between the pull of the moon and the hummed
undertone of the earth below them
the glass curtains kept falling around them
as they flew in search of their place before
they were anywhere and storms winnowed them
they flew among the places with towers
and passed the tower lights where some vanished
with their long legs for wading in shadow
others were caught and stayed in the countries
of the nets and in the lands of lime twigs
some fastened and after the countries of
guns at first light fewer of them than I
remember would be here to recognize
the light of late summer when they found it
playing with darkness along the wet sand
poem by William Stanley Merwin
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Bright Colors
bright colors hang
on a horizontal pole
a white bench a red
pail and purple clouds
yellow sand black
sea grass and lavender
shadows umbrellas
on alternate orange and
white and saffron and
yellow green and crimson
blue sea with white foams
escape from a shrinking world
to the sea breeze and solitude
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Break The Glass!
fire comes from the crotch of darkness...
darkness comes from the tongue of god.
what we see, smell, and taste...
are but curtains on the window!
break the glass!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Steel & Glass
(this is a story about your friend and mine
Who is it, who is it, who is it? )
There you stand with your l.a. tan
And your new york walk and your new york talk
Youre mother left you when you were small
But youre gonna wish you wasnt born at all
Steel and glass
Steel and glass
Steel and glass
Steel and glass
Your phone dont ring no one answers your call
How does it feel to be off the wall
Well your mouthpiece squawks as he spreads your lies
But you cant pull strings if your hands are tied
Well your teeth are clean but your mind is capped
You leave your smell like an alley cat
Steel and glass
Steel and glass
Steel and glass
Steel and glass
song performed by by Lennon John
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Remembering The Smell Of Youth
smooth pillow, warm blanket,
a woman's body so white
and calm
light is shun by the door of the room
on closed silk curtains by the window
i still taste the youth in spring
its perfume still remaining in the air
late at night, the same smell
comes even in my sleep
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Glass Of Water Please
and so the story wants to end itself with a
glass of water.
those who cry after always need
a glass of water.
those whose hearts are broken
those who sob
those who close the window of the niche
those who have nightmares
those who wake up at 3 o'clock in the morning
those who sit on bed and cannot sleep back
always go to the kitchen
open the refrigerator
get a glass and splash
a cold glass of water
this time, i am asking for a glass of water
for i could be
all of the above or you could be one of those
i have described
but who knows we are not one of those
who knows
we are but just anyone who is normally thirsty
and with nothing to ask
simply ask
for a glass of cold water.
and cheerfully, we do not forget to say
please....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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In Margate
The curtains in the bedroom
are drawn close
and you lie
in semi-darkness.
Through the open window
I can smell the sea
and hear waves breaking
beyond the road.
The wind pulls at the curtains
and every now and then
the white beach
and the blue ocean peeps in.
We came to Margate
for a holiday at the sea
to bathe is shallow waters
to swim with the surf,
to have some fun
and tan in the hot sun,
but darkness hangs
like a shroud over you
while the white beach,
the bright blue sky
and the dark blue ocean waits
on us to come.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Christmas Again
Yesterday I walked along a beach
no more than fifty miles away.
The sun was out and it was warm.
Got home late last night
and went straight to bed.
Woke up this morning
the sky had turned to grey
and little white fleece
was bombarding us from the heavens.
It was snowing quite heavily,
lying on the ground,
making a white carpet there.
The more I watched from my window
the larger the fleece got.
I watched the inches build up,
wondering when it was going to stop.
I didn’t really care if it did,
as it was nice to see
the white stuff falling from the sky,
even if it was in April.
My thoughts were
is someone trying to tell us
that it’s Christmas again.
6 April 2008
poem by David Harris
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One Princess to Another
Sleeping Beauty stroked
Her blonde hair
And sighed and
Longed for the woods
Snow White stared
At her reflection
And watched as
Her face aged and her life faded
Cinderella pulled at
Her long dress
And looked at
The glass shoes of enslavement
And then Cinderella
Found Sleeping Beauty
And asked:
“Did we ever have a choice? ”
Sleeping Beauty went
To Snow White
And told her:
“I hate my life.”
Then they went
Home to the princes
Who owned them
Because they were the first to kiss them
Cinderella broke her glass slippers
And ran away from the prince
With a nice teacher from the village
Leaving behind a note and glass slippers
Sleeping Beauty
Bore her prince a son
Before she turned to the woods
And never came out again
Snow White took
A poison apple from the
Wicked Witch’s dungeon and bit down into it
And died this time
poem by Elizabeth Rebel
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A View In Town Square
four blue chairs surround
a center table
at the center table
lies the red cloth
there are no diners
this time of the day
on the blue frames of
the glass window
where the white curtains
hang & flow like silky water
the lush of the red
bougainvillea is a wreath
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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