En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Grammer School

Today it was
twenty years ago
on the 3rd of June
where I found myself
on the top steps
of a church called Pompeii
wearing a thick light blue velvet suit
my oldman got it on Maxwell Street
the syle was 7 years passe'
still I stood there
and my legs were
just a little longer
than the hem of my pants
and I was feeling the heat
of a full belly sun.
youth draped itself
off my face
then the ending of my graduation
brought congrats and free beer
from everybody on Taylor st
my mother held her head high
as I hugged her and smiled
the wind never turned back
the faces of all became one
the door opened wide
and I walked without looking back

poem by Charles Lara
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The man called My Father

My sister pointed a man on the road calling him our father
She had a faint smile hoping he would turn and smile back
I saw him walking away in a busy market wearing a suit
Perhaps a man on business while we stood like a failed investments

I asked my mother about the man called My father
She weakly smiled and kissed my chubby childhood cheeks
Years went by and that man often crossed my way, often smiled too
And i smiled back to the stranger who everyone called my father

We met once a while at his place greeting his new family
A mandatory yearly visits like paying homage to gods for life living
The man called my father looking at me with his guilty eyes
And i smiling at the stranger to the man who called himself my father

poem by Dechen Doma Sherpa
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Hard Days On In At The Rehab For Drunken Poets, An Opera Of Sorts, circa 1981

They can't all be like these, I guess.
The days are good, though, when they are.
The formula is simple really -

We take our ragged bones out of rented rooms for long walks.
You point out between bricks the rainbows in windows, the dirt
now become your dirt, your genius for transformations.
I ram my own by now trite and hackneyed points
home over and over, but it works on days like these.

Reprise. Then cold beer in the dying light of
a gray bar. The stage is set. Laughter over the
wear on those other faces as we shudder behind
our own, the usual exchange of wind.
Full darkness mutes the swarm and it begins.

Curtain up.

Back inside our rooms, last castrati on the radio.
Enter winter under the door crack.
This becomes an event,
the retelling in high C;
'...I guess it's just as well we speak
this way in America and call it poetry.'
See. I'm ramming it again.
Cold breaks my concentration.
It's moving up my legs like hemlock.
Poetry should do the same.

OK. I'll get serious. A brief libretto: :

Today sweet Molly with the black eye
and the cut on her breast cried then
decided to return home to Bud who
beats her when she's drunk. I tried to
talk her out of going but she was going
and she went. Scherzo here. Interlude.

Johnny didn't come home but drank a beer
after court, walked down Highway 25 to see
his little girl, called to say he was sorry for
being late. 'You can't come back, Johnny.
You been drinking again.' Coloratura. And gravel.

Joe vomited honey and banana in bed, a real mess.
I caught most of it in a trash can held up to his head.
He roared when he wretched.

'I've vomited more years than I've lived them' he said, shaking.
'I'm a damned drunk and I'll die a damned drunk.'

poem by Warren Falcon
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The Passing

The change, it comes so slowly
Like the winter of our lives,
It encroaches while we're playing,
While we're laughing with our wives,
As the children wave goodbye
The first brief chill will still the air,
And that silence settles on us
As they turn, and close the door.

Then we stare long at each other
But we find no words to say,
You have been the faithful mother
That I married, back some way,
But I see your smile has faded
With the passing of the years,
And you turn your face away so I
Won't see that trace of tears.

Are you thinking of that moment
When you held that new born child,
Of the joy of those first steps, or of
The day your baby smiled?
And the schooling and the learning
And the knees they brought home skinned,
Or the pride you took each time you watched
That graduation film.

While I find my own thoughts turning
To those days before we wed,
To your awesome, breathless beauty
As you passed, and turned my head,
Of that first-time kiss I savoured
Out beneath the apple tree,
When I took you to my heart, and you
First said you wanted me.

Now we're grey, and more like shadows
Since the lust in us has died,
And we rarely touch each other
Since we turned to ash inside,
For the years of work and struggle
Took their toll on you and I,
And I hear you every evening as
You go outside to cry.

All those dreams that ended shattered,
All those hopes that turned to tears,
Here we sit, both disillusioned
With the tolling of the years,
And we pass our friends unseeing
As we wander in the street,
We are ghosts, a long time passing
Now our story is complete.

We are like the leaves of autumn
That have fallen from the trees,
Blowing through our days unspoken
With each passing, gentle breeze,
We will fade and be forgotten
In the long term way of things,
But we'll cling in desperation for
What each last moment brings.

25 November 2012

poem by David Lewis Paget
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Halcyon And After

It was May or June, I met you:

Business, something or other.
Your study, when you showed me in
Was full of the sun, drenched with gold:
From work strewn across tables, chairs
You turned to me and smiled -
And I was dazzled.
You made me tea with bergamot
And we talked and talked, all the things
Our loved ones dare not hear.

At last, when I stood up to go
I saw your eyes diving back,
Sad and wise, into shafts of light
And I thought: 'She is the one.
I can tell her anything'.

But humid grey clouded the sun
That day your skirt revealed your legs:
I stared too long.
Your smile became a laugh
And you sheathed your tongue.
From then on, we were colleagues.

The night I saw you last
I walked you home half way:
We practised conversation,
Venturing nothing.
Suddenly, you slipped from my side:
I watched you walk to your future
Through summer dark and street lights,
May and June, another year.

poem by Richard George
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Back On The Street

They tell me Ive paid back the debt I owed
Forty-four months since the slammer door closed
They give me a suit and put me back on the road
And my thoughts are racing
Where do I go? what am I supposed to live on?
What happens when the twenty-five dollars is gone?
That leaves me lots of time to wonder why I was born
But the countdown is on
Everybodys dancing
The music sounds entrancing
But you cant find the beat
Its the ticking of a thousand human time bombs
Who are back on the street
Oh the names have been changed
But the storys the same
History will repeat
Add it all up and then divide it by zero
cause youre back on the street
I cant stand the strain of this job no more
I must have forgot what I took it on for
I make lots of money, yet still I want more
And my head is blazing
I think that Ill check out the shops downtown
Sometimes it helps to buy things when I feel brought down
At this hour I might dodge those hippie low-lifes around
But the countdown is on
Once you had to stand out
Looking for a handout
Free love and body heat
And that moneys just a crumpled green ball in your pocket
When youre back on the street
Back on the street again
Said youre back on the street again
The countdown is on
And nobody knows when
Spreading like a cancer
Looking for the answer
In everyone you meet
And each in his way has a hustle to play
When hes back on the street

song performed by by Utopia
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Twenty Years Ago

It's been a long time since I walked
Through this old town
But oh how the memories start to flow
And there's the old movie house
They finally closed it down
You could find me there every Friday night
Twenty years ago.
I worked the counter at the drugstore down the street
But nobody's left there I would know
On Saturday mornings that's where
All my friends would meet
You'd be surprised to know what a dime would buy
Twenty years ago.
All my memories from those days come gather round me
What I'd give if they could take me back in time
It almost seems like yesterday
Where do the good times go?
Life was so much easier twenty years ago.
I guess I should stop by Mr. Johnson's hardware store
His only son was my friend Joe
But he joined the army back in 1964
How could we know he would never come back
Twenty years ago...

song performed by by Kenny Rogers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In Another Land

In another land where the breeze and the
Trees and flowers were blue
I stood and held your hand.
And the grass grew high and the feathers floated by
I stood and held your hand.
And nobody else's hand will ever do
Nobody else will do
Then I awoke
Was this some kind of joke
Much to my surprise
I opened my eyes.

We walked across the sand and the sea and
The sky and the castles were blue.
I stood and held your hand.
And the spray flew high and the feathers floated by
I stood and held your hand.
And nobody else's hand will ever do
Nobody else will do
Then I awoke
Was this some kind of joke
Much to my surprise
When I opened my eyes.

We heard the trumpets blow and the sky
Turned red when I accidently said
That I didn't know how I came to be here
Not fast asleep in bed.
I stood and held your hand.
And nobody else's hand will ever do
Nobody else's hand
Then I awoke
Was this some kind of joke
I opened my eyes.
Much to my surprise.

song performed by by Rolling Stones from Their Satanic Majesties Request
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I have *PRIDE* in myself

I tripped
I fell
Into a massive dirty puddle
I ran home embarressed

I accidently ripped my trousers
on the back
my pink hearted pants were showing
I ran to the toilets in shame

My bag broke and fell on the floor
All my books flew everywhere
and I had to chase them
I lowered my head in disbelieve

But still I have pride in myself

the next day I came to school smiling
I walked around the puddle
I wore shorts under my new trousers
And I got a new bag
Today was the day that I got to
walk with my head held high and a massive
grin across my face

I still have pride in myself

poem by MeganOlivia Maxwell
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Sally's Goodbye

Sally got up early to find what she could wear,
Then brushed her teeth and combed her hair.
She wasn’t going outside to play,
For today was a very special day.

Sally put on her favourite dress and matching headband,
In her favourite colour she looked so beautiful, just as planned.
‘Are you ready? ’ her daddy said
‘Yes Daddy I am, I’m just making my bed.’

She held her Daddy’s hand as they walked to the car
For she knew someone was watching from afar
They got in the car and drove away
Looking at the white clouds, with a touch of grey.

Everyone was there to give her a hug and kiss
She knew it was a day that no one would miss
In her matching headband and blue dress
As she walked through the doors she said god bless.

The place was decorated just like she thought
There was just enough room for the flowers she brought
Sally went up to the front of the room
And she knew that she would see her Mummy soon.

‘Here you are Mummy, I got these for you’
She was wearing her favourite colour, which was blue.
Sally placed the flowers she carried in her basket
With all the others right on top of her Mum’s casket.

Sally was 7 years old and didn’t understand
That her mummy couldn’t see her pretty blue headband
Daddy came up and placed on some flowers
He smiled, looking at Sally, ‘she’ll know they’re ours’.

They took their seat and began to wait
Most guests were seated, some were late.
The minister talked of a woman so beautiful
A wife, a mother and all things wonderful.

Sally asked Daddy if she could say a word
It was the sweetest thing her Daddy had heard.
‘Of course you can, Mummy would be proud,
Just go up there and remember to speak loud.

Sally walked up the front and stood at the pew
She knew everyone could see her in her dress of blue.
With memories in her head and love in her heart
She cleared her throat and began to start.

‘Mummy was so beautiful and so kind,
When I did things wrong, she would never really mind.
Mummy was very sick, and now she’s in heaven
She missed my birthday, because today I’m seven.

I wore our favourite colour today, I hope she can see
I wore a matching headband, it’s nice, I think she’d agree.
Mummy, I will make sure that Daddy will smile
Because I know that we won’t be seeing you for a while

We miss you more each and every day
But I still see you in my own special way.
I close my eyes, and you are there
Smiling back at me with your long blonde hair.

I love you mummy, you’re the best mum to me
I know that this is the way it has to be
Every time I think of you I will smile
And I will see you in heaven, in just a little while.’

Sally sat down with a smile on her face
Daddy held her in a warm embrace.
‘I’m so proud of you’ Said Daddy with a tear in his eye
It’s not forever Daddy, it’s just a short goodbye.

Sally watched her mummy be carried away,
Her head held high she began to pray,
‘Dear god please take care of my mummy,
she will be the most beautiful angel there will ever be’

poem by Kayla Neil
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Courting Disaster

I was twenty-three when I saw her first,
Without a word of a lie,
She had wandered into the woods by me
With a basket, held on high,
Her auburn hair reflected the sun
And she flashed me a dazzling smile,
That turned my head to the way she led
As I followed her, over the stile.

She skipped along at a steady pace
Weaved in and out through the trees,
Collected the broad-rimmed mushrooms there
As she stopped, and fell to her knees,
Her dress flared out as it caught the wind
And her hair was floated wide,
I hid by a tree, and held my breath
As I thought of her, as a bride.

She had such a look of innocence,
Was free as the birds of the air,
The legs and the grace of a peasant girl
Brought up in the great out-there,
She ran right up to a Woodsman's house
That was hidden by branch and vine,
Then danced right in through the open door,
And then I knew; she was mine!

The door was closed when I finally knocked
But I heard a terrible moan,
And minutes later the door unlocked,
In the hall stood a fusty crone,
She stared at me through her hoary eyes
With never a hint of grace,
‘What do you want? ' she growled at me,
For the shock must have shown in my face.

‘That girl, who danced in a moment back,
I'm here to discover her name.'
‘There is no girl, ' said the ancient hack,
‘You'd better return where you came! '
‘I saw her enter, I must insist,
I'll not be gulled by your lies! '
‘That girl's been dead for a long time back,
You'd better leave now, if you're wise! '

She slammed the door in my face just then
So I wandered back through the trees,
A raincloud covered the midday sun
And I felt the chill of a breeze,
The rain came down as I walked back home,
Climbed over the ricketty stile,
Was drenched to the skin as I wandered in,
And thought to resort to guile.

For days I lingered by that old track,
The place that I'd seen her first,
I felt so miserable, holding back,
As I thought, and feared for the worst,
What if the girl was a sprite, who'd died,
Just as the old crone said?
Try as I might, I couldn't believe,
Nor get her out of my head.

I finally went to the Woodsman's house
And I hid in a patch by the vine,
When suddenly out of the door came tripping
The girl, with her eyes a-shine,
She skipped away with her basket, filled
With linen and loaves and cheese,
And I caught her then in a shady glade
As she stopped, and fell to her knees.

‘I hoped you'd come, ' were the words she said
As she laid a cloth on the ground,
‘I have to hide from that grey old witch
So I go where I'll never be found.'
She broke the bread and she poured the wine
And we ate and drank in the glade,
My mind was filled with a sudden chill
But I thought of fun in the shade.

‘So when are you going to kiss me, then? '
She said when we finished our feast,
‘I've fed your animal spirits, now,
It's time I was paid, at least! '
I kissed her there in the shady glade
And we tumbled there in the leaves,
Then I fell asleep, and she'd gone when I
Awoke, and the heart, it grieves.

I stumbled home, but was feeling faint
I had aches and pains in my head,
I staggered through to the bedroom, then
I found her asleep in my bed,
She woke and sat, and she stared at me
But her face had begun to change,
There were lines and wrinkles around her eyes
And her hair was grey with age.

‘I need you now that my time is short,
Come and rest your weary head, '
I caught a glimpse in the mirror then
And it filled me full of dread,
For the face of a man of middle age
Stared back at me from the glass,
‘Just what have to done to me? ' I said…
‘Do you really have to ask? '

‘I fed on your animal needs, and you
Gave something to set me free,
If you want me to be a bright young thing
Then you must replenish me.'
I saw she aged by the minute there
And she soon let out a moan,
For lying in bed was a figure of dread,
That hoary old witch, the crone!

I'm far too weak to get out of bed,
But Elli goes out on her own,
She carries her basket into the wood
For the mushrooms she eats alone,
My beard is grey and I dread each day
As she bleeds my life from its core,
But she's as lovely as ever she was
At a hundred and twenty-four!

26 October 2012

poem by David Lewis Paget
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I Cant Hear You!

i cant hear you.....
she turned her head,
and he walked away...

leaving all the years
hanging like spider webs
in forgotten corners.

numb but walking,
he could taste her
in the cyanide rain.....

down to the corner
where nobody stood,
and strangers without faces

never spoke... to the
corner of hell and third,
never looking back....

nothing to look back to!

poem by Eric Cockrell
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Time to Lose.

She was there
in the church
arranging the flowers

at the altar end
where her mother said
she'd be when you knock

at the parsonage door
some moments back
and you entered

through the old oak door
into the silence
and smell of age and flowers

seeing her
in her summer dress
unaware you stood there

her hands touching
flowers in vases
moving them into place

an intenseness
on her face
you moved slowly

down the aisle
not wanting to disturb
or cause alarm

then Jane turned
and smiled and said
I've nearly done

and tapped the flowers
in the final place
Where shall we go?

You moved closer
to where she stood
and said

To Heaven
if we're good
they say

she shook her head
and said
I meant where

about outside?
Wherever you like
you replied

studying her hands
as she wiped them
on her summer dress

how the fingers lay
how some god
brought them

to such beauty
and her eyes
and hair

and her
just standing there
enough

you mused inside
not out
to bring one to a faith

of some creative god
and she said
Why do you stare?

What holds you
rooted there?
Let's go climb

the Downs and look across
the vast expanse
of fields and trees

and birds in air
just you and me
and this love

just being there
Oh how romantic a mood
holds you today

she said and put her arm
through yours
and moved you on

and down the aisle
between the pews
unaware as youth

too often does
of hours passing
and having time to lose.

poem by Terry Collett
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Play Children Play

I came home late one night,
In my door stood my daughter-in-law,
Park your car, I have something to tell you,
As I entered the door, she said, "Mother left today."

Play children play, your mother left today.

There is no where for a writer to start,
When his wife leaves and breaks her children's heart,
When she walked out, she never said good by,
No one has ever known why.

Play children play, today your Mother went away.

Many things we planned to do that day,
For no reason she just walked away,
Twenty years has past and gone,
Some how we took care of our home,
You children have married, but still alone.

Play children play, for the day your Mother went away.

poem by Kenneth McKinley Davis
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After All Said And Done.

After Friday choir practice
in the church

after the other members
had gone to the vestry

to ready themselves for home
she stood in the darkened church

looking at the altar
and the high windows

where only moonlight
shone through

and she said to you
we'll stand here one day

and get married maybe
and say our vows

and there will be
our families and friends

and the parson will say
kiss the bride and you will

and she smiled
and looked at you

standing in the quiet church
and you said

some years off maybe
we're only fourteen

and still at school
and we've got to get pass

your mother yet
like trying to get a ball

by a fat goalie
who fills the net

but she just shook her head
and smiled and said

don't be so negative
look on the positive side

look to the future
with bright eyes

and it seems strange now
and sad to look back

at that night
with you and she

standing in that aisle
in semi-dark

while outside
in the night sky

fate was working out
a different answer

where you
would marry others

and she would die
from cancer.

poem by Terry Collett
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You Can Never Go Home

I dont know what Im searching for
I never have opened the door,
Tomorrow might find me at last,
Turning my back on the past,
But, time will tell, of stars that fell,
A million years ago.
Memories can never take you back, home, sweet home.
You can never go home anymore.
All my life I never really knew me till today,
Now I know why, Im just another step along the way,
I lie awake for hours, Im just waiting for the sun.
When the journey we are making has begun,
Dont deny the feeling that is stealing through your heart,
Every happy ending needs to have a start.
All my life I never really knew me till today,
Now I know why, Im just another step along the way,
Weep no more for treasures youve been searching for in vain.
cos the truth is gently falling with the rain,
High above the forest lie the pastures of the sun,
Where the two that learned the secret are now one.
I dont know what Im searching for
I never have opened the door,
Tomorrow might find me at last,
Turning my back on the past,
But, time will tell, of stars that fell,
A million years ago.
Memories can never take you back, home, sweet home.
You can never go home anymore.

song performed by by Moody Blues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Waiting For The Day

It was only for a fight
That I asked you to come in
But you brought me tumbling down
And the walls came caving in
Wont you help me dry my tears
Help me roll away the years
Then perhaps I will forgive you
And the hurt will disappear
But in a fit of blind arrogance
You stood up and walked away
If youd given me half a chance
Ill be waiting for the day
For the day that you come back to me
Come on back to me
You come back to me
So forget the long goodbye
You never really tried
Threw the keys down on the table
Youve got your sense of pride
Then you had to tell the world
Your story must be heard
Slammed the door behind you
Without a single word
But in a fit of blind arrogance
You stood up and walked away
The day that you come back to me
Come on back to me
You come back to me
Come back to me
You come back to me
No I never had a single thought in my head
No I never had a single thought
Oh for the day that you come back to me
Come on back to me
You come back to me
Come on back to me
You could be my life long friend
You could be the light of dawn
You could keep me close at hand
You could keep me safe and warm
I will be your fantasy
If you come and stay with me
I will try to give you all
Waiting for the night to fall
You could be the light of day
You could be my life long friend
You could keep me close at hand
Waiting for the day to end
I will be your fantasy
If you come and stay with me
I will try to give my all
Waiting for the night to fall

song performed by by Erasure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I, Too

I saw fond lovers in that glow
That oft-times fades away too soon:
I saw and said, 'Their joy I know-
I, too, have had my honeymoon.'

A young expectant mother's gaze
Held earth and heaven within its scope:
My thoughts went back to holy days-
I said, 'I, too, have known that hope.'

I saw a stricken mother swayed
By sorrow's storm, like wind-blown grass:
I said, 'I, too, dismayed
Have seen the little white hearse pass.'

I saw a matron rich with years
Walk radiantly beside her mate:
I blessed them, and said through my tears,
'I, too, have known that high estate.'

I saw a woman swathed in black
So blind with grief she could not see:
I said, 'Not far need I look back-
I, too, have known Gethsemane.'

I saw a face so full of light,
It seemed with all God's truths to shine:
I said, 'I, too, have found my sight,
I, too, have touched the Fact Divine.'

poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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In The Way Back Then

Seven years ago,
I went back to Canada
after forty-two years.
I walked down a road
to show my wife where I used to live.
The road was built on rolling hills
and as I came over one,
I knew instantly where I was.
Things had changed
in those forty-two years,
some would say
it was unrecognisable
from what I used to know,
but as soon as I started down the hill
things came back like yesterday.
It was as if I had never been away.
Memories of my childhood
instantly sprang to mind.
I found myself seeing things
not as the now,
but there were changes
from the way back then.
The memory flashes
brought a smile to my face
as I could visualise
all the friends I knew then,
the funny incidents that over my life
in the way back then.
All too soon, time
has a way of taking things back
and my memory reclined them
to the back door of my mind.

30 April 2008

poem by David Harris
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A Naked Poem

i unbutton your blouse
with a naked poem...

the same poem that lit the fire
on a snowfall morning....
brought you breakfast in bed.

the same poem that held the baby,
and wiped the tears from your face...
that wrapped around you

when we buried your daddy....
that kept the lone candle
burning all that night....

that helped you pack to go,
and opened the door
to let you back in....

that stood in front of you
when the storms came...
that walked by your side

through the darkest nights....
the poem that unlocked
your heart thirty years ago....

the poem lying beside you,
listening to two hearts racing....
that plunges into you

till all else is lost!

poem by Eric Cockrell
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Judith and her Thoughts on Death

That Sunday
after singing
in the choir
and changing
from the blue

and white gowns
and out
of the dim lit vestry
into the sunlight
at the back

of the church
Judith was standing
by a gravestone
reading the almost
indecipherable words

chiselled there
sad isn't it
she said
that these people died
and are buried

and then the time comes
when you can't read
who died or when?
you walked over
to where she was standing

and rubbed off
some of the green moss
with your hand
comes to us all
I guess

you said
when those whom we loved
or cared about die
and after we and those
who knew them are gone

there is no one left to care
who's buried there
she looked at you
and you saw
her eyes water

and her lower lip tremble
you won't forget me
will you? she asked
course not
you said

anyway
why are we getting
so darn morbid?
we're alive
let's live while we can

she walked away
from the gravestone
and stood looking
around the graves
behind the church

the sunlight
warming the stone
and her head
and you walked
next to her

and put your hand
on hers and said
I'll never forget you
if you go before me
she smiled

and looked at you
I'll always remember you
she said
other choir members
came out of the vestry door

and there was talk
and laughter
and Roger chased Shirley
along the path
and she looked back at him

giggling and making faces
and Judith said
some have no respect
for the dead
even in this

their resting place
human all too human
you said
and kissed her
sun blessed face.

poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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