030810 I'm Alone It's Not Fair
i'm running cold water on my hands
playing with scented soap bubbles
let me wash this dishes instead
while i reminisce days you were here
you're standing on that corner by fridge
with yellow towel drying dishes and glasses
then out of the blue we ran outside
we watched balloons passed by
very colorful once, i wonder if they saw us
from up there with all that billowing noise
my neck got stiff, you went and sit
then somebody scream 'flooding'
yes, water running out of the kitchen
drain clog up with unfinished food
it took us the whole day cleaning
i was poof and you're still smiling
it's very comforting being there
now i'm alone it's not really fair
poem by Manonton Dalan
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Related quotes
Washed Away
It's hard to tell
what exactly is streaking my face
the water pouring over me
or the water leaving my eyes
Trying to use the scolding hot water
use it to wash away everything
the world
the pain
The warm water
running over me
then to the drain
taking nothing with it
The cool water
flowing into the drain
none of the pain circling with it
no matter how much I want it to
The cold water
making me shiver
numbing me
inside and out
Ice cold water
freezing my veins
finally ridding me of pain
leaving nothing
The only sign of life
is the slight shiver
I get when I think of what happen
when I think of her.
poem by Kaysen Fraker
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Housework
Wash the dishes dear.
A bard doesn’t do dishes.
William Shakespeare did,
wrote his best work when cleaning windows,
for his wife.
I didn’t know that darling; anyway
windows look ok to me.
I didn’t mean the windows but the dishes.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Cold water
Water is cold water is wet,
Water is cold and can be a big mess...
Water is a teer dropp running down your cheek,
Water is the stuff that makes you feel weak...
Water can be good if you feel down,
Water can be bad if you don't come back around...
Water is a thing that can make you feel cold,
Water is a thing that can make you be bold...
Water is a cold, cold thing,
Everyone has water running through them...
poem by Alexandra Greif
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I Need Water
Scorching hot summer’s day
Devastation struck on our holiday.
Water, water running out
No more water left about.
Where is water?
What to do?
Stressing, thirsty, hungry too.
Need a shower!
Need a drink!
But there is no time to think.
Running, running to the store
“No more water” written on the door.
I need water, but there’s none,
Definitely not having fun.
Feeling dirty!
Feeling sick!
Needing something so basic.
Water, water I need you
Then I’ll be as good as new.
Water, water always there,
Once it’s gone we’re made aware
Wasting water is not right
Now it’s gone I’ve seen the light.
I need water to survive
I’m lucky to be alive!
poem by Salvatore Mazzeo
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Top Taps
At the Royal Festival Hall, on the third floor,
There is an experience which I just adore.
Every time that I visit there, I always choose
To wash my hands under the taps in their loos.
Out of the tap, the water suddenly gushes;
On to my waiting hands, hot water rushes.
Into the basin, water froths and foams:
I really wish we had these taps at home.
Round my wrists, the white water swirls
Like a precious bracelet, made of pearl.
Bubbles coat my hands, just like a glove:
It is a sensation which I simply love.
By the bubbles, my hands are massaged.
Luckily, for these loos, there isn't a charge.
With these taps, I am a little obsessed.
These are the taps which I love the best!
poem by Angela Wybrow
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~~Setting For One~
Hot water splashing, over food-soiled dishes, like dirty dancing
Water lapping, pooling along the gritty face of corning ware
Forks, knives and spoons drowning - water advancing
This chore intimate, warm – wet, my nightly affair
~~
I could use paper plates – no, that’s a soggy hell
But then no need for Joy Liquid, my nightly cologne
I prefer the upscale squeaky clean of Corelle
One plate, glass, fork, knife, and spoon – each bathes alone
~~
Emptying the dishpan, water swirls, hurling down the drain
Gurgling, almost giggling dirty water, exiting the scene
A little slimy residue on stainless steel still remains
No one will notice – this is my solitary domain…
~~
So it goes with a setting for one...
poem by Peter Shea
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Water On Glass
Written by ricky & marty wilde
Cascading down
Theres a sound vaporising into vision
Its a sound in my head
That I feel and it shuts me in a prison
Say it wont last
Say it will pass
Always the sound in my brain
Can you hear it
Water on glass running down again
Water on glass that sound
Water on glass running round again
Help me, the sound of running waters
Coming down
Dancing away
Like the lights on a moving coloured river
Sounds in my head seem to run
And again I feel a shiver
Say it wont last
Pray it will pass
Always that sound in my brain
Can you hear it (can you hear it)
Water on glass running down again
Water on glass that sound
Water on glass running round again
Help me, the sound of running waters
Coming down
Water on glass running down again
Water on glass that sound
Water on glass running round again
Help me, the sound of running waters
Coming down
song performed by by Kim Wilde
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Dirty Laundry Poem
This is the dirty laundry poem-
because we have traveled from town to town
accumulating soiled linen & sweaty shirts
& blue-jeans caked & clotted with our juice
& teeshirts crumpled by our gloriously messy passion
& underwear made stiff by all our joy.
I have come home to wash my clothes.
They patter on the bathroom floor like rain.
The water drips away the days till you.
The dirty water speaks to me of love.
Steamy in the bubbles of our love,
I have plunged my hands into hot water
as I might plunge them
in your heart.
After years of spots & splatters,
I am finally coming clean.
I will fly to you with a suitcase of fresh laundry,
strip my clothes off, heap them on the floor,
& let you scrub my body with your love.
poem by Erica Jong
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Washing And Dressing
AH! why will my dear little girl be so cross,
And cry, and look sulky, and pout?
To lose her sweet smile is a terrible loss,
I can't even kiss her without.
You say you don't like to be wash'd and be dress'd,
But would you not wish to be clean?
Come, drive that long sob from your dear little breast,
This face is not fit to be seen.
If the water is cold, and the brush hurts your head,
And the soap has got into your eye,
Will the water grow warmer for all that you've said?
And what good will it do you to cry?
It is not to tease you and hurt you, my sweet,
But only for kindness and care,
That I wash you, and dress you, and make you look neat,
And comb out your tanglesome hair.
I don't mind the trouble, if you would not cry,
But pay me for all with a kiss;
That's right–take the towel and wipe your wet eye,
I thought you'd be good after this.
poem by Ann Taylor
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The Washing and Dressing
Ah! why will my dear little girl be so cross,
And cry, and look sulky, and pout?
To lose her sweet smile is a terrible loss,
I can't even kiss her without.
You say you don't like to be wash'd and be dress'd,
But would you not wish to be clean?
Come, drive that long sob from your dear little breast,
This face is not fit to be seen.
If the water is cold, and the brush hurts your head,
And the soap has got into your eye,
Will the water grow warmer for all that you've said?
And what good will it do you to cry?
It is not to tease you and hurt you, my sweet,
But only for kindness and care,
That I wash you, and dress you, and make you look neat,
And comb out your tanglesome hair.
I don't mind the trouble, if you would not cry,
But pay me for all with a kiss;
That's right -- take the towel and wipe your wet eye,
I thought you'd be good after this.
poem by Ann Taylor
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Burning Down
]from the back of my neck, oh oh oh
Wired a glass jaw, oh oh
Plantation burning your boat is coming in
Strum your jews-harp, youre reeking gin
Running water in a sinking boat
Going under but theyve got your goat
Burning down - my hands are tied my feet are bound
Burning down - cant you see that my hands are bound
Johnny mike is reading in the yard
His storys timely, oh oh oh
What river is it anyway, radio
Not in a boat, in your ear
Running water in a sinking boat
Going under but theyve got your goat
Burning down - my hands are tied my feet are bound
Burning down - cant you see that my hands are bound
You pick your island in the sun
Take your island off hes got a gun
Burning down - my hands are tied my feet are bound
Burning down - cant you see that my hands are bound
Hes cooking in the woods, a brush fire in your neck
Feeling mighty mighty, oh oh oh
You can pick your island in the sun
Take your island off hes got a gun
Running water in a sinking boat
Going under but theyve got your goat
Burning down - my hands are tied my feet are bound
Burning down - cant you see that my hands are bound
song performed by by REM
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Man Your Garbage
Your the left over that no one eats
You just rot in the fridge
Until someone throws it away
Your the dirty dishes that no one
Want to clean up
Cause the left overs are still in the pan
Your the trash that stinks up the house
Your the junk that I need to throw away
But don't have the heart to
Your everything that I don't need
And yet your still here
Stinking up the place and rotting away
It's time to start cleaning up the place
And I'm gonna start by
Throwing all your stuff out the window
So don't be surprised if all your stuff
Is in a with all of left overs
And dirty dishes
And the trash
And the junk
All the stuff that's garbage
Including all your stuff that crowds up my place
My life right now is, I wouldn't say reduced to food, but my duties in life are that I wake up, cook breakfast, clean the dishes, prepare lunch, clean those dishes, go to the market, get fresh produce, cook dinner, clean those dishes and then sleep if I can. And I love it. I actually adore it.
quote by Heath Ledger
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Washing up
'Grab a hold of that dish-cloth our Peter,
And give me a lift with these dishes;
We don't have a genie in this house
To help us, by giving three wishes.
It's manual labour our Peter,
A straightforward job in the sink;
A mountain of mucky old dishes
And then we can go for a drink.
Our Ena is ever so fussy though,
The glasses, they MUST be done first;
The cups and the plates are then easy,
The large greasy pans are the worst.'
'Put plenty of 'fairy' in Peter'
Said Fred, 'it will save you from scrubbing;
We'll soon have them spotless and shining
And then me and you can go clubbing.'
'Grab a hold of that towel our Freddie,
This mountain is now just a hill;
Just two more, then a colander Freddie,
And then I'll be on to the grill.'
Soon the hill was as flat as a pancake,
The dishes were done and all dry;
Fred and Peter were happy as sandboys,
To the boozer their feet would soon fly.
'Hey Ena! they're done, we have finished,
I told you we wouldn't get vexed; '
'Hey Peter, and Fred! no you haven't,
I told you, the ironing is next.'
(Written Jan 1996)
poem by John Carter Brown
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Running...
Running4Christ.
Running to race.
Running to live.
Running to stay fit.
Running to find myself.
Running to save lives.
Running to heaven.
Running for Christ.
Running for faith.
Running for Love.
Running for God.
Running for Life.
Running for Records
Running for Russia.
Running Till The End..
poem by Joseph Fuller
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4. Elements – Water
Water an elemental
Water a fundamental
Building block of life
Water of Life
Water of Death
Water in all religions
Water in all living things
Water in all countries
Water also used for barter
No life without water
No rife with water
No respect for water
Willful neglect of water
Water, for cooking
Water, for cleaning
Water, for drinking
Water, for living
Water, for dying
Water is the same
In all languages
Water is the same
To all living beings
poem by Anand Dixit
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Scavenging For Coal
At the back
of the coal wharf
you and Fay
picked up coal pieces
that fell through
the iron railings
and put them
in an old bag from home
Fay looked
at her blackened fingers
and said
if my daddy sees
these fingers
and finds out
what I've been doing
he'll spank me
for sure
you gazed at her
beside you
and said
you can wash your hands
at my place
she looked around
at the bombsite behind you
the evening sun
slowly going down
behind the railway bridge
and nearby buildings
what if someone sees you
she asked
picking up these pieces?
no one worries about this
all the kids do it
you replied
my daddy says
it is evil to steal
she said
you put a black piece
of coal in the bag
and lifted it
to feel the weight
that's enough
you said
too much
and I won't be able
to carry it
Fay stood up
and looked around
at the darkening sky
you held the bag
in one hand
and scanned
the area around you
let's go
you said
and so you both
walked away
from the coal wharf
into Meadow Row
by the public house
where piano music played
and down towards
the flats
where you lived
and after climbing
the concrete stairs
to your landing
you opened the door
and put the bag
by the indoor
coal bunker
and showed Fay
where to wash her hands
turning on
the cold water tap
you both washed
your hands
with the red
Life Buoy soap
her hands near yours
her wet flesh
touching yours
the black water
running away
and another adventure
and another day.
poem by Terry Collett
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You Call It Jogging
By: john loudermilk
You call it jogging i call it running around
You say you're losing weight but you ain't lost a pound
While you're out jogging with your other friends
I'm home feeding the kids again
You call it joggin' i call it running around
You call it joggin' i call it running around
It's the best release you say you've ever found
Your friends all smile and agree yeah you were running around on me
You call it joggin' i call it running around
Somebody said they saw you down at the corner getting out of some stranger's car
You come home after running for hours ain't even breathing hard
Hmmm
You call it joggin' i call it running around
The soles of your running shoes they ain't wearing down
While you're out running up and down the streets
I'm at home trying to get the kids to sleep
Shhh
You call it joggin' i call it running around
(let's take a lap or two)
You been out since 5pm
It's now 30 minutes past 10
You blow in all out of breath
Honey you been drinking gin again?
You call it joggin' i call it running around
Draggin that silly old towel all over town
You come home grinning with your hair all wet
Smelling like shampoo instead of sweat
Mmm mmm mmm
You call it joggin' i call it running around
Oh yeah
You all it joggin' i call it running around
Yeah
song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Sound Of Water
Tons of water down the drain
Taking those long showers again;
More water splashing in the sink
Only for brushing,
Please stop and think.
Those multiple flushings
Down the bowl
Make you a disrespectful troll
Suffice it to say
Water is a “luxury”
To have each day.
Till now,
Conservation never appealed
But not having any,
Suddenly makes it a big deal.
Water is priceless
When you're in a drought
Some don't have any
And are running out.
So please be mindful
Try not to waste;
It’s quite precious
Every single drop,
You never know
What a gift water is
Until one day it stops.
poem by Carolyn Brunelle
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Douse
Turn the dial, hear it click,
then the water will start to drip,
slowly the water will begin to flow,
filling your body with a warm glow.
Looking towards the ceiling,
you’re struck by a wondrous feeling,
of water rolling down your face,
of water that’s warm to taste.
Then you’ll reach for the shampoo,
that special lotion cleaning you,
then finish off with shower gel,
or soap shaped like a seashell.
Finished, low and behold,
open the door, you’ve gone all cold,
just think you’ve got up early,
just to see your hair go all curly!
poem by Dale Mullock
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