Inside and Back Out
A forest encircles the lawn,
the lawn encircles sheets of English ivy,
the ivy encircles the walls of a house,
the house encircles its furnishings,
the furniture encircles a family
the family sits on the furniture,
the furniture completes the house,
the house is cuddled by walls,
the walls are warmed by English ivy,
the ivy loathes the horizontal lawn,
the lawn pines to be a forest.
poem by Sonny Rainshine
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To Change Me?
when you arrive here
you change the paint of the house
you like it pastel blue on the door
white on the walls
and green on the windows
you change the landscape
except of the wanton garden
you opt for a manicured lawn
and some of my trees
and shrubs have to be
cut down,
some flowers have to go
you bring in
the violets, and lavenders
and white champacas
you like a scent from around
you
specially during the night
when we simply sit
on the lawn
now you begin to demand
some changes from me
the time when i wake
up or sleep
you like soap i like sports
you want me to enjoy
love stories
the color of my socks
my tie my polo shirts
i give in for a while
but there is an end to all these
attempts to change me
you cannot,
i am me before the landscape
before the paints of the house
i am me before the lawns and flowers and socks
and shirts and soap
i am already me before you arrive
to my house
to my life
you cannot change me
because
i love who i am what i am and i know perfectly just what i want to make
myself
even without you,
make some more attempts to change me
and i will ask you to leave at once
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Bethany
In the grey mist of an English dawn,
the starling stamps and prods and probes
and generally disturbs
the lawn,
seeking to confirm
an English proverb.
Beneath the green of an English lawn,
the patient worm
catches
the bird.
In this numbing
cosmic dance,
each one gives
and takes his chance
to feel and find
in flesh and mind
the ambiguous secrets of becoming.
poem by Brian Taylor
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House for Sale
I stood in the midst of the empty house,
It was silent, empty, and bare,
gone was the laughter the tears and the life,
and the family that once lived there.
I stood there observing, to try to revive
the memories this house had to share,
the secrets, excitement, unhappiness too,
these feelings so willing to bear.
I heard children playing and lapping up life,
I heard adults talking and scolding,
This house bore it all with its solid repose,
and accepted with wisdom beholding.
I stood in the midst of the empty house,
with a feeling of sadness around,
abandoned and empty, a lonely shell,
for the place never uttered a sound,
it was silent and bare, where the rooms had been stripped
and the furniture taken away,
the paint had been scratched and the floor left unwashed
when the house was abandoned that day.
The ghosts from its past walk through each lonely room,
and I sigh as I button my coat,
I slam the front door with an echoing bang
and a lump seems to lodge in my throat-
for there on the green lawn for all eyes to see
with dark letters outstanding on pale
is a board standing taut in the cold winter sun
with the large, lonely wording- "For Sale"
poem by Margaret Hanning
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My Heart and the Family
Open the chest of drawers I call the heart,
Inside is more furniture that I lay on,
Further up the wall is a red spot or two,
Me and my family and what else?
Outside there is a monster called the garden,
It’s a lawn, a tongue for languages and hurt,
The communication seems vital for the plants to grow,
Ovens in the kitchen are us, we grow food.
My family stay at home, victory is assured and some,
Inside is the heart and my mirror is my family
For they have lunch, dinner and breakfast
In the day and night, with heart and pain, all day.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Reaching For You
A tapestry of energy
encircles me
consulting my sage
reaching through time
and space to find
you
poem by Heather Burns
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Gator On The Lawn
Well I run through the kitchen looked in the paper
Said, oh God almighty, mama, there it says a gator, come on, come on
Every other day I got a gator on my lawn
Well you dropped your groceries in the kitchen sink
Went to work and made the bathroom stink, come on, come on
Every other day I got a gator on my lawn
Get with it mike!
Well I jumped out of bed run across the street
Asked my neighbor said, wheres my meat?
I had a red raw steak cant find it anywhere
He looked at me and said, what the hell do I care? come on
Every other day I got a gator on my lawn
Yeah I run in the kitchen looked in the paper
Said, oh God almighty, mama, there it says a gator, come on, come on
Every other day I got a gator on my lawn
Well every other day I got a gator on my lawn
Every other day I got a gator on my lawn
song performed by by Tom Petty
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Misty Day
Glancing out of the window I see the potted plant
on the sill and the house on the other side of
the road… the light is fading and the plant looks as
sad as a whitewashed wall in rain… its whiteness
was an illusion caused by the sun.
Mist of grief encircles olive trees there are blank
tears on my almond tree´s spindly twigs, yet inside
each droplet I see a tiny world reflecting my own,
only with greater incorruptibility of the untested.
And far away, as a whisper, a mother sings a lullaby.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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A Perfect Golf Course Lawn
A perfect golf course lawn,
A house painted by numbers,
A dog plays out back, and all
the children say, whats for
lunch, or dinner,
A man pulls in,
a women waves a white flag,
and all the children say,
this is my mom, and this is
my dad.
A perfect golf course lawn.
poem by David Gerardino
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Coming And Going
wise dusk encircles old oak,
white flowers adorn ancient earth -
footprints of future and past
poem by Ashesh Das
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To Preserve Something, Just Cover It Up in Dust and Cobwebs
The house had a secret life concealed within
Though externally the surface was drab and plain,
Nothing to draw attention at all-
Dusty and dank, with every sort of stain.
But at a certain season and hour of darkness
Punctuated with rays of random moon:
The inner soul of the place came apparent
The greyness fell away and took with it the gloom.
Then the walls would blaze with a turquoise hue,
The kitchen had a lively checkerboard tile.
On the bathroom walls in the muted blue sea
The red fish and mermaids began to smile.
The scalloped mantle was glossy and white,
The wood floors shone to refect the rays,
All the crystal glass knobs and findings
Collected, throughout the long, polished days.
The house remembered the clinking of goblets
Wielded by languorous guests on the lawn;
Nights were passed long and comely,
And scattered coffee cups greeted the dawn.
Now weeds have grown up through the cracks in the walk-
The house is forgotten and falling apart
But the life that once flourished between the timbers
Is safely preserved in the house of the heart.
poem by Patti Masterman
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House and Man
One hour: as dim he and his house now look
As a reflection in a rippling brook,
While I remember him; but first, his house.
Empty it sounded. It was dark with forest boughs
That brushed the walls and made the mossy tiles
Part of the squirrels' track. In all those miles
Of forest silence and forest murmur, only
One house - 'Lonely!' he said, 'I wish it were lonely' -
Which the trees looked upon from every side,
And that was his.
He waved good-bye to hide
A sigh that he converted to a laugh.
He seemed to hang rather than stand there, half
Ghost-like, half like a beggar's rag, clean wrung
And useless on the brier where it has hung
Long years a-washing by sun and wind and rain.
But why I call back man and house again
Is there now a beech-tree's tip I see
As then I saw - I at the gate, and he
In the house darkness, - magpie veering about,
A magpie like a weathercock in doubt.
poem by Edward Thomas
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The Latter Rain
A ring of haze encircles the unshrouded truth within
Another seal is broken as the heavens prepare
To break forth in fulfillment
A blanket of deception is layered on sacred writings
Which contain the thoughts of the One who is Almighty God
A sword unsheathed is drawn bringing legions of demons to their knees
By the covenant prepared before the earth itself still
So many choose to warm themselves beneath deception
A ring of haze encircles the unshrouded truth within
Another seal is broken as the heavens prepare
To break forth in fulfillment
A blanket of deception is layered on sacred writings
Which contain the thoughts of the One who is Almighty God
A sword is drawn
song performed by by Zao from Where Blood And Fire Bring Rest
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The House That Built Jack
Scorched white by the lowly hung sun,
Crouched underneath the low ceiling sky.
Could burn his fingerprints right off,
Could be his last underground loft.
There's trick draws and the walls are too dry,
The stairs don't go up, the roof doesn't tilt,
In the house that Jack built.
An architect of soil and ash,
He buried and burned what wouldn't build.
The house strong with mortar and bricks,
The home strong, strong as straw and sticks.
Warm if he's willing, weak as he's willed,
The bell can't ring and the flowers won't wilt,
In the house that Jack built.
There's phantoms in the furniture,
In the company of his own ghost.
Trade family for plastic house plants,
Trade your heart if the clock enchants.
Never the neighbour, nobody's host,
Watch your head, mind your step, beware the guilt,
In the house that Jack built.
The labyrinth, he burnt it down,
There's a well but he can't choose a wish.
Etched the blueprints onto his skin,
From his own flaws; thereof; therein.
Unsmash the mirrors, face the blemish,
All work and no play, Jack can't find the hilt,
In the house that Jack built.
The house speaks to Jack and moves him.
Along the floorboards beneath the dust.
He's the shadow the bulbs can't touch.
He's the loft filled with far too much.
His house a temple; In jack we trust.
Home is where the heart, like cement, is spilt,
In the house that Jack built.
Home is where your soul must fill in each crack;
Home is what makes up for what you lack;
Home is what's bringing this flashback;
The house that built Jack.
poem by Ella Veyes
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Just A Confession
don't ask me why
better transmit heat
encircles winter here
Pranab k c
12/2011
poem by Pranab K. Chakraborty
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My House
This is my house,
Treat it as such,
It is where I dwell.
It is my castle,
I am it's king,
It is where, I alone prevail.
I set the rules,
For which we live,
For my wife, child and I
If you cannot accept them,
If you only reject them,
Please, just step outside.
This is my house!
I support it with two hands,
Liken the one, my father once owned.
And when I got married,
And I took me a bride,
My house, became our home.
I'll fight for the rights,
For which it stands,
To shelter, my family and I,
To protect ourselves,
And to raise our family,
And for that, I would surely die.
Though it may not be a castle,
It may not be a mansion,
But of its four walls I am proud.
For many memories are here,
Many hopes and dreams lie there,
For this is my house, our home.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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Because Of The House, There Was Never A Home
because of too much concern for the house
that someone other than yourself may live in there
and steal away what you are keeping there
the furniture and the kettle
the glass and the spoon and the fork
and the spam and sausages and
wheat and bread
because of too much worry for what a house can
be
so much home has been wrecked
so many homes were not even conceived and born
because you want a nice and expensive house
now you don't even have that dream of a home
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Forest Lawn
This song appears on three albums, and was first released on the take me to tomorrow? album, and on the changes album. it has also been released on the an evening with john denver album as a liv
Sion.
Oh lay me down in forest lawn in a silver casket
Put golden flowers over my head in a silver basket
Let the drum and bugle corp play taps while the cannons roar
And sixteen libertied employees sell souvenirs from the funeral store
I want to go simply when I go
Theyll give me a simple funeral there I know
With a casket lined in fleece
And fireworks spelling out rest in peace
Oh take me when Im gone to forest lawn
Oh lay me down in forest lawn they understand there
They have a heavenly choir and a military band there
Just put me in their care Ill find my comfort there
With sixteen planes and a last salute theyll drop across in a parachute
I want to go simply when I go
Theyll give me a simple funeral there I know
With a hundred strolling strings
And topless dancers with golden wings
Oh take me when Im gone to forest lawn
Oh, come, come, come, come
Come to the church in the wild wood
Kindly leave a contribution in the pale
Be as simple and as trusting as a child would
And well sell you the church in the dale
To find a simple resting place is my desire
To lay me down with a smiling face comes a little bit higher
My likeness cast in brass will stand in plastic grass
While hidden weights and springs tip its hat to the mourners filing passed
I want to go simply when I go
Theyll give me a simple funeral there I know
Ill lie beneath the sand
With piped in tapes of billy graham
Oh take me when Im gone to forest lawn
Rock of ages cleft for me
Forests lightly higher fee
Oh take me when Im gone to forest lawn
Amen
Words and music by tom paxton
song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Leaking Roof....
there is no use
repairing the leak of the roof
of this
house
it is raining
let it rain
let the water wet this floor
and the furniture
let us wait when will this dark night
end
when this heavy rain shall stop
on the same leak
we shall see the light that falls
on those wet floors
and furniture
it will show us the truth
and shall guide us
what to do next
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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2005/07 A house is not a home
The house we've built
looked so pretty on the outside
now its filled with only my feelings
and now you hardly ever come in
those times when you do
its just a shell
just your body, not your heart
just your peck, not your kiss
just your hug, not your embrace
i need your love
i need you to want me
if you dont want me then why are you in my house
that's right, my house
you've moved your feelings, your furniture out
my home gets chilly at night
imprints of your pictures on the wall
toothbrush still in the holder
toilet seat still up
poem by by unknown author
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Do You Really Want to Know Me?
if you know what a river is
perhaps you will know a man
i am a man and you will say to the river
i have known a man and i have known a river
there is no way that i will never you in full
you shall brag to the clouds in your mind
they drift
there is no permanence
permanence is an illusion
a river
a cloud
water
air
and this is where we must start
educating air
if you step upon my heart and tell me
i have know everything about you and you must not change and that is what you are
you are wrong
for i am a river that encircles a mountain
but i know a path but the paths do not know me
and so i keep on moving
changing paths and what path was it that you have seen yesterday
is no longer the path now
you must accept you have never known a river
because a river is man
and man is not forever man
he is a river that always escapes the hold of your mind
that frame that has walls
without even the possibility of another opening for stars....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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