Berry Picking
Berry picking back of the island,
Hiked a mile through the woods
Came upon the bright red berries
Glazed purple in the morning sun
We got down on our knees and picked everyone
The October sun shining down
Wild cranberries by the sea is a spectacular sight to see
Time out for lunch, we sat on a log
Surrounded by grasses, reed, and bog
Food tasted delightful out of doors
We savoured every bite
A gray jay in flight decided to join us for awhile
The uninvited guess indulged in the very best
We chatted for awhile of ordinary things
What the weather will bring
Cooking onion rings
Before going back to fill our sacks
The hours flew by
The October sun was fading from the sky
With red stained fingers and bruised knees,
We slung our sacks over our backs
Stumbled our way back
Homeward bound with our bounty in our flour sacks
poem by Verna Ralph
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
To me, it's always a good idea to always carry two sacks of something when you walk around. That way, if anybody says, 'Hey, can you give me a hand,' you can say, 'Sorry, got these sacks.'
Jack Handey in Deep Thoughts
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Three Graves
Early in the morn, into the ooze
There lay three sacks;
All tied tight with thin cords of polythene.
The sacks were muddy, blood seeped out
Through the fiber of jute.
Around them were pools of blood,
Mingling into the oozy contents,
The men, women and children went
And came by unheeded as nothing happened.
At last men of law came in uniforms
In haste with a hooting ambulance,
And they loaded the stained sacks,
Rushed towards the police station,
And placed them into a room in the basement.
The sacks contained mutilated bodies,
Minced hands and heads, brains and bellies,
Of a sister and two brothers, they were murdered
For no guilt but for being innocent.
No one claimed them their own,
And they buried them as heirless,
Into the remote graveyard of municipality.
No one is to attend their graves
Now they sleep side by side uninterrupted,
When the sun shines their white epitaphs
Shine too with the inscriptions,
‘Unity, Faith and Discipline: ’ the divine principles.
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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Just Roll On Your Back
When you get up in the morning,
Just roll on your back.
Roll on your back.
Roll on your back.
And when you get up in the morning,
Just roll on your back.
Bring your knees up to your chest...
Rock back and forth,
Then relax.
And...
When you get up in the morning,
Just roll on your back.
Roll on your back.
Roll on your back.
And when you get up in the morning,
Just roll on your back.
Bring your knees up to your chest...
Rock back and forth,
Then relax.
You'll strengthen up your spinal column.
And you will feel good.
Unlike you think you could.
But you will feel good.
You'll strengthen up your spinal column.
And you will feel good.
Unlike you think you could.
But you will feel good.
When you get up in the morning,
Just roll on your back.
Roll on your back.
Roll on your back.
And when you get up in the morning,
Just roll on your back.
Bring your knees up to your chest...
Rock back and forth,
Then relax.
And if you want to bring back all your youth...
Do a revolving jumping jack.
When you get up in the morning,
Just roll on your back.
Roll on your back.
Roll on your back.
And when you get up in the morning,
Just roll on your back.
Bring your knees up to your chest...
Rock back and forth,
Then relax.
Say goodbye to your doctor,
And that will be a fact.
So when you get up in the morning,
Just roll on your back.
Roll on your back.
Roll on your back.
So when you get up in the morning,
Just roll on your back.
Bring your knees up to your chest...
Rock back and forth,
Then relax.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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[revised 11-19-09] Getting Through October and Beyond
What was it about October
That made us think
Spring would not be coming back?
The weather rattled at us,
Leaves fell,
Leaving us feeling
It's not going to get any better.
No amount of experience or
Logic will helped,
Spring last year didn't help,
When the shorter days of
Fall and Winter closed in.
Beyond October?
What was it about October
That assured us
Spring will be coming back?
The weather hinted of changes,
Leaves brave enough
To let go one by one,
Or be pushed in bunches by the wind
Took momentary flight, and
Abandoned their accustomed tree.
They made room for new buds
Provided cover for the soil and
Food for those below.
Lots of work to get ready
For Spring next year and to
Just get through Fall and Winter.
Then came November.
November brought
What October teased.
October warned us,
Rushed at us,
Then seemed to pull back
Like a gentle rolling surf.
On a rough November day
A wave rushed over our heads
Knocked us down and threatened
To pull us far out to sea.
As we floated
We saw the shore disappear.
No one will come to help.
They won't even know we're gone.
'I've got to get to December! '
We scream.
'New Year's Day! Easter!
May Day! MAY DAY! '
And we will
Even if we have no idea
Why or how
poem by Tom J. Mariani
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Berries! ! ! ! !
Mulberries
On a visit to granny in the Doon valley
It was March, the old tree full of Mulberries.
Red, purple teasing from far, ran with cane basket.
Picked one, ate some while the birds created a racket.
Strawberries
Strawberri es in white boxes, one atop other
The hawker sat on his knees, said go no further.
I protest too expensive, not for the masses.
Rich eat raw, make a tart or with cream in glasses.
Wild Berries
On way back from school at noon, attack wild berries.
Are for free and so yummy, home a lot we carry.
We laugh and shriek as our skirts get stuck in thorns,
Satiated, come back home, with berries, skirt torn
Written in ancient japanese form Sitigotyo
06.04.09
Mamta Agarwal
poem by Mamta Agarwal
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Collector
The collector
I was a collector of paper napkins, every day I used to go around
picking them up, they were usually smeared with human saliva
and scum fat of cheap food. I had twenty bags full in my garage,
I stored them there since I have no car but like to mention that
I have a garage. One morning when I entered to pick up the stick,
with a nail in the end, the one I picked napkins with, the sacks
had turned in to tired workmen resting after slaving long hours
in the factory of hell. I opened the garage door they were free to
go and I saw them vanishing into the morning glare. They had
done their duty no more was excepted of them. From now on
till rain came they were be free, dance with dust and leave and
disappear on their own accord when time was right... My garage
is empty now but the smell of sweat and struggle lingers with old
jokes repeated a hundred times in workmen’s canteen
poem by Oskar Hansen
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October's Bright Blue Weather
O suns and skies and clouds of June,
And flowers of June together,
Ye cannot rival for one hour
October's bright blue weather;
When loud the bumblebee makes haste,
Belated, thriftless vagrant,
And goldenrod is dying fast,
And lanes with grapes are fragrant;
When gentians roll their fingers tight
To save them for the morning,
And chestnuts fall from satin burrs
Without a sound of warning;
When on the ground red apples lie
In piles like jewels shining,
And redder still on old stone walls
Are leaves of woodbine twining;
When all the lovely wayside things
Their white-winged seeds are sowing,
And in the fields still green and fair,
Late aftermaths are growing;
When springs run low, and on the brooks,
In idle golden freighting,
Bright leaves sink noiseless in the hush
Of woods, for winter waiting;
When comrades seek sweet country haunts,
By twos and twos together,
And count like misers, hour by hour,
October's bright blue weather.
O sun and skies and flowers of June,
Count all your boasts together,
Love loveth best of all the year
October's bright blue weather.
poem by Helen Hunt Jackson
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The Big End
Crawling in my house
Every sunny day
They are as quiet as a mouse
As they crawl down the bay
They walk in a straight line
Just like an enormous train
It contains ants more than nine
But this train has a big brain
Carrying food on their back
All kind of glorious food
To carry them they don't need sacks
They eat food bad and good
They walk barefoot on sand
And turn if there is a bend
Then I squished them with my hand
And that is their big end.
poem by Risha Ahmed
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It Must Be October
The harvest moon hangs round and high
It dodges clouds high in the sky
The stars wink down their love and mirth
The Autumn seasons is giving birth
Oh it must be October
The leaves of red bright gold and brown
To Mother earth come tumbling down
The breezy nights the ghostly sights
The eerie spooky far off sounds
Are signs that its October
The pumpkin yellow big and round
Are carried by costumed clumsy clowns
Its Halloween lets celebrate
Come one come all and don't be late
We know now its October
We'll roast and toast some luscious food
For apples we'll be bobbin
While tales are told around the fire
Of timely ghosts and goblins
Oh how we love October
The moon has grown pale
The stars have grown dim
Our Halloween party is over
With a hi-de-ho homeward we'll go
What a delightful month October
poem by Pearl N. Sorrels
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Homeward Bound
I want to sit at home in my rockin chair
I dont want to travel the world
As far as Im concerned Ive had my share
But times more precious than gold
I dont wanna see another airplane seat
Or another hotel room
The home life to me seems really neat
I just wanna unpack for good
Buy me a ticket homeward bound (homeward bound)
Buy me a ticket homeward bound (oh homeward bound
Well it all seems the same when youve done it before
Theres no difference in the style
Theres no end insight or my own front door
Ill be a stay at home for awhile
So Ill have another drink and a cigarette
Just to console myself some how
Its not too bad if you can forget
Ive just got to find a way somehow
Buy me a ticket homeward bound (homeward bound)
Buy me a ticket homeward bound (oh homeward bound
Buy me a ticket homeward bound (homeward bound)
song performed by by Fleetwood Mac
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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School's Out (goodby old friends)
Goodbye Socrates
So long Pericles
Ta-ta Sappho
Ciao Apollo
And you too Plato
Hate to see you go
Sayonara Sophocles
(and god knows those boney knees)
Adios Aristotle
Try to stay off the bottle
Quetzacoatl you knew how to par-tay
One sacrifice every 15 mins.24 hours a day
Farewell Pharaoh
Back in time you go
Bye-bye Homer, really good Odyssey
Cortez, you were as cruel as you could be
All of you… back into the books
Don’t be giving me those dirty looks
We had our time together
And now I’d really rather
Spend awhile, in the here and now
And write some poetry (if I can remember how)
poem by David Whalen
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The Changes Of The Times
when we took vacations in your place my dear cousins we brought you lots of
things: sacks of bananas, another sacks of camote, sacks of rice and
some fruits from our farm in zamboanga
that was in the late 70s when we truly missed each other and you cooked our bananas and camote and rice and you drank the juice and licked the pulp of our fruits
and you my dear cousins
in returning our kindness
you also treated us for a picnic in the nearby river where
there were still lots of fishes and big rocks and crystal clear waters where the wild ducks sometimes land to drink and rest and then fly in flocks
where the myth of the beautiful mermaid and her human lover on a forbidden tryst continue their madness
on a full mooned night
and we listen and someting magical still rings
like a longing in our hearts
we told lots of stories and time ran so quickly without notice
there was no delay at all, no boring moment
we simply ate and drank and sang some songs
we surely missed each other
on those abundant times
but my dear cousins, times have changed, kindness now not given and if given is not returned
you have been too busy and we too have been too busy too
looking for ways
to survive these hard times
we do not visit your place again, neither you visit us too,
i heard the news that the river in your place has dried and all the fishes there die
and the mermaid story was no longer told as no one wants to listen to myths
and no one believes anymore about fantasies
and giving and being kind
has become a waste of time
and i no longer hear the excitement of the word
'cousin' anymore
i have seen the changes, and let me tell you,
i do not blame anyone.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Places
Past love died, as she cried, I saw beauty
Girls wished for boys and scared them away
As I saw beauty
Alright, alright
My feet keep on taking me back, back, back to those places
Alright, alright
My knees keep on shaking from fright, fright, fright
Scared and cold, now youre old
Time thaws, but youll break
Theres a hole in my soul
How much more will it take?
Alright, alright
My feet keep on taking me back, back, back to those places
Alright, alright
My knees keep on shaking from fright, fright, fright
I saw, I saw
And it moved all of the gray aside
I saw, I saw
It moved all of the gray aside
Alright, alright
My feet keep on taking me back, back, back to those places
Alright, alright
My knees keep on shaking from fright, fright, fright
song performed by by Ours
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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MaMa's Cooking
Thinking of times I would say what's cooking everyday
It's an assortment of goodie things
Chocolate, pies and banana pudding
Enough food and that's Mama's cooking
Thinking of times I would say what's cooking everyday
Apron in hand and lasting impression I didn't want to miss
Everything seem perfect from beginning to end
Enough food and that's Mama's Cooking
Thinking of times I would say what's cooking everyday
Smiling faces and a gentle speech of o.k.
Noone knows how much the void I can't fill
Enough food and that Mama's Cooking
Thinking of times I would say what's cooking everyday
Being polite and sincere would carry the weight
Seemingly enough she has the greater plan
Enough food and that Mama's Cooking ahead
Thinking of times I would say what's cooking everyday
The napkins, plates and never-ending why didn't it last
Noone knows how much the void I can't fill
Enough food and that's Mama's Cooking again
Thinking of times I would say what's cooking everyday
Craving for the turkey and dressing pan
Not to admit, seemed a bit much
Enough Food and that's Mama's Cooking again
So nowadays, I look for the needle in the haystack
Wishing on the times, she would come back
It's been 10 years, since I said thoughs word's
Enough food and that Mama's blessing for us
Missing mom everyday becomes second-nature for me
Enough food, Enough love and One day she'll see
For know I'll take her spirits with me and others will speak
Enough food, Enough love and One day she'll see
poem by Natasha McGee
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President Mubarak Rocks Egypt
President Mubarak rocks Egypt
with denial of go freedom song
practices power moves to string
an Egyptian protest public along.
Mubarak appoints a vice president
big name while singing should I go
I am in trouble, if I stay this trouble,
protest will double double double.
Mubarak sacks his government.
Mubarak sacks all his ministers.
But why does Mubarak not know?
Egyptian people scream in hate go!
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Katrina: Lady Of The Lake
And in the morning when the rain stopped shining,
The Lady picked daintily over waters tainted
With twisted wrecks of once-high trawlers.
The North wind blew flecks of lilies, pieces of
Sheds...crowding waves of last October.
Last October, Halloween month.
Tricks of hope, treats of tears.
Blue, blue string clouds. Sun shining on
Bags of ice, trucks of food.
Sagging faces, waiting in line. Whining children
Hanging on luck of one bowl of Cheerios.
He told the Lady to go home...she was not needed
To stroll the waters, hold the tides.
That, she did.
And through the murk Her voice went out,
Called Heaven back, biding, waiting...
Until Heaven was furious...boats' hulls' brimming.
Mortgages know nothing of Heaven, or a
Lady grinning.
poem by Elysabeth Faslund
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My Days of Wine and Roses
A Tangerine sun glazed The Travis Vineyard
While the Deep Purple haze, just glowed
The aroma's from all of the picked grapes
Filled Napa's Colored-flavored show!
The Valley 'tis filled with a bounty
Of future vino's of varying kinds
Aged and then tingled to the palate
'Tis Ambrosia, most divine, from the vine!
The succulent grape and its splendour
Shines the California's-near-by coast
The valley, itself, 'Tis a purple Wonder
Growing the most primo for its hosts
Perhaps a wine tasting party?
Hmmmm, wonder, if The Gallo's might attend?
It will truly be a celebration
As the days of Wine, are just 'round the bend!
Oh, did i leave off, The Roses?
My mistake, Mon Amore.
The title would not be complete
As it was, in the days of yore!
Back when it was a Movie
Back when it was a romantic song
Back in the time of old actors (Jack Lemmon)
Back when the wine could do no wrong!
'The Days Of Wine And Roses'
It taps at my long ago memory
Taking me back to a time
When the grape was truly very new to me!
poem by Theodora Onken
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Keep Me In Your Heart For Awhile
Keep me in your heart for awhile
When you think of me
Keep me in your heart for awhile
As I am in your dreams
Keep me in your heart for awhile
While you say goodbye
Keep me in your heart for awhile
One more time say I love you
Keep me in your heart for awhile
As you watch the seasons change
Keep me in your heart for awhile
Living like there is no tomorrow
Keep me in your heart for awhile
As you tell stories about me
Keep me in your heart for awhile
Remember all the times I took your breath away
Keep me in your heart for awhile
As you sleep I am lying next to you
Keep me in your heart for awhile
When you cry a tear for me
Keep me in your heart for awhile
As I watch over you
Being your Guardian Angel
Keep me in your heart for awhile
As you love me like I will always love you
Keep me in your heart for awhile
poem by Cody Wisneski
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Calicoe Pie
Calico Pie,
The little Birds fly
Down to the calico tree,
Their wings were blue,
And they sang 'Tilly-loo!'
Till away they flew,
And they never came back to me!
They never came back!
They never came back!
They never came back to me!
Calico Jam,
The little Fish swam
Over the syllabub sea,
He took off his hat
To the Sole and the Sprat,
And the Willeby-wat,
But he never came back to me!
He never came back!
He never came back!
He never came back to me!
Calico Ban,
The little Mice ran,
To be ready in time for tea,
Flippity-flup,
They drank it all up,
And danced in the cup,
But they never came back to me!
They never came back!
They never came back!
They never came back to me!
Calico Drum,
The Grasshoppers come,
The Butterfly, Beetle, and Bee,
Over the ground,
Around and around,
With a hop and a bound -
But they never came back!
They never came back!
They never came back!
They never came back to me!
poem by Edward Lear
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I guess I'm not that aware of such a big fan base. I have a few core people who write me no matter what I'm doing, but I hardly have sacks of mail being dropped on my door!
quote by Julie Bowen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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