Memoirs of another time
I scribbled the details
on every page
recalling the things we had done
what was said
and though we have parted
I still read the book
when we were together
way back in our youth
We met in the winter
while catching a bus
you were on your way home
and were in such a rush
your purse spilled the change
that was meant for your fare
and I helped you pick up
the coins lying there
The bus was quite crowded
I gave you my seat
you thanked me and asked me
if I'd like a sweet
an Everton mint
I just couldn't decline
as these were particular
favourites of mine
We chatted and you said
you had to get home
and get changed for a party
some colleague had thrown
a retirement dinner
you thought you'd be late
as you had to be there
around about eight
I asked could I help you
if you didn't mind
I was going to pick up
my car around five
the garage had told me
the clutch was repaired
if we met at seven
I'd soon get you there
And so we decided
and chatted some more
we'd meet later on
at the old Woolworths store
the bus had arrived
and you left in the rain
when I realised
we forgot to ask names.
Continues on next page>.
poem by Charles M. Moore
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The Party
As we were dressing to go out our little girl and boy
Came in and asked if they could go this time
We told them little girls and boys don't belong at parties
And that they should be in bed asleep by nine
The babysitter came in then and we kissed the kids goodbye
And told them that we'd be home soon and told them not to cry
Then we left for the party like we'd so often done
Thinkin' only of ourselves and not our little ones
The party started out wild and it grew wilder as the night wore on
With drinking laughing teling dirty jokes nobody thinkin' of home
Then the stranger feeling came over me and it chilled me to the bones
And I told my wife that we'd better leave the party
Cause I felt that we were needed at home
As we rode along I got to thinking of how the kids that mornin'
Had asked if we would take them to church the next day
And how I'd put 'em off like I'd so often done
By sayin' we'd probably get home too late
Then my thoughts were interrupted by the sound of sirens
As they cut through the still night air
Then we turned down our street that's when we saw the fire
The rest was like a nightmare
We took their little bodies to church the next day
Though we'd left the party early we still got home too late
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Change
The other day I walked accross the street
i couldnt believe what I appeared to see...
as I looked at a poor boy who came to me
I asked him his name and he didnt know
he just asked me for change.
I asked where is your mum?
he just asked me for change
I asked where is your dad?
he just asked me for change
I asked will someone come?
he just asked me for change
I asked why are you sad?
with no response to my question there was a pause...
but then once again he asked me for change
see, as i watched him dissapear with his pain
I realised that he actualy asked me...
for a change.
poem by Daniel McCann
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Forget (narrative poem)
My mom went to the beach
but she forgot her things
to the back of the car she reached
but still she forgot everything
she asked like a million times where are my things
and then she remembered she forgot them at home
then she called twice and told me: are my things at home
i said yes
and she went mad
she went and swam and when she came back
i saw her wet
i asked her: what did you do
she said its okay i swam in my clothes
and then i laughed until i died
but all she did was shout and fight
and then i got in trouble
for all the mess i had done
goodbye sunshine because i am grounded
for like a week
see you my friends
but maybe till the end
poem by Jana Ghossein
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My Love
When I first saw your face my heart skipped a beat,
and when you turned and smiled, I just couldn’t speak.
You did something to me that I still cannot explain
you were trapped in my mind and locked in my brain.
Whenever you came near me I trembled inside,
I felt so awkward, but my love couldn’t be denied.
You caused me to float on air and I just hovered along,
you made birds sing in my head, oh what sweet song.
I couldn’t believe it when you first spoke to me
you seemed to set all my inhibitions free.
I chatted away merrily making no sense at all
I think you even blushed, if I rightly recall.
And when I managed to ask you for a date that night
it still makes me cringe because I didn’t ask you right.
And when you said, “Yes”, but I still asked you again
because I couldn’t believe it, you must’ve thought me insane.
But now after four years I adore you even more,
you are the key that opens my life’s door.
Our baby is the flower that we gave to each other
and she reminds me so much of her loving mother.
poem by Orlando Belo
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Last Night, I Died
Last night, I died
And there was no one there
There was no one for me to speak to
Except for GOD; who I did in prayer.
I asked GOD then to forgive me
And please, erase the sins of this man
Then I asked him to watch over my family and friends
And then I asked him please; hold my hand.
And as I lay there dying
Unto GOD I freely spoke
I thanked him for all the gifts he gave me,
I thanked him for all the words I wrote.
Then I closed my eyes and had memories
But not of the bad times, only the good,
Then I thought of the people I loved and trusted,
Not because I had to, but because I should.
And while I was there still alone
Awaiting for death to take my life,
I began to cry, but not for me
But for my son, and the woman I call wife.
Then I thought in Heaven who would walk with me
When I arrived, in my new home,
Then I thought who would be with me
Or in Heaven I thought, Would I walk alone.
And as I awaited For my life to end
I worried as I began to think of everyone else,
The sting of death really didn't bother me,
But only knowing, I would die by myself.
And then at last death it came,
And there for me, no one had cried
Because no one knew that I left this world
Because no one knew, last night I had died.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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Book Of Days
Your life is as a book
Written on the pages are the weeks
For you would give anything to take just one look
Into the next chapter, the next page
Each page is a new thought, a new dream
Sometimes it takes so long to pass that page
And sometimes nothing is as it seams
For you know you can not go ahead or back
You know you are where you are
You know you can't change that
As you read page to page, so near to fear
You write the chapters as you go, with each turn
Each turn, each move changes what's to come
And you know each moment could be the last
With this in mind you go so mumb
So numb to the touch, to the thought
You turn page after page
until you reach the 'end'
And only then, you are freed from the title
The title that has kept your thoughts bound, and tight
You turn the pages one by one
You take the pain, take the joy
Until you are done
And your story becomes another on the shelf of eternity
(1/24/2008)
poem by Bethany Maxwell
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Left To My Own Devices (disco Mix)
I get out of bed at half past ten
Phone up a friend, who's a party animal
Turn on the news and drink some tea
Maybe if you're with me we'll do some shopping
One day I'll read, or learn to drive a car
If you pass the test, you can beat the rest
But I don't like to compete, or talk street, street, street
I can pick up the best from the party animal
I could leave you, say goodbye
Or I could love you, if I try
And I could
And left to my own devices, I probably would
Pick up a brochure about the sun
Learn to ignore what the photographer saw
I was always told that you should join a club
Stick with the gang, if you want to belong
I was a lonely boy, no strength, no joy
In a world of my own at the back of the garden
I didn't want to compete, or play out on the street
For in a secret life I was a round head general
I could leave you, say goodbye
Or I could love you, if I try
And I could
And left to my own devices, I probably would
Left to my own devices, I probably would
Oh, I would
I was faced with a choice at a difficult age
Would I write a book? Or should I take to the stage?
But in the back of my head I heard distant feet
Che Guevara and Dbussy to a disco beat
It's not a crime when you look the way you do
The way I like to picture you
When I get home, it's late at night
I pour a drink and watch the fight
Turn off the TV, look at a book
Pick up the phone, fix some food
Maybe I'll sit up all night and day
Waiting for the minute I hear you say
I could leave you, say goodbye
Or I could love you, if I try
And I could
And left to my own devices, I probably would
Come on, baby, say goodbye
Or I could love you, if I try
And I could
And left to my own devices, I probably would
Left to my own devices, I probably would
(Come on baby)
Left to my own devices, I probably would
song performed by by Pet Shop Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Heart Skipped A Beat
When I first saw your face my heart skipped a beat,
and when you smiled I just couldn’t speak.
You did something to me that I still can't explain
you’re fixed on my mind and locked in my brain.
Whenever you came near me I trembled inside
and found my nervousness impossible to hide.
You made me float on air and I hovered along,
birds sang in my head, oh, what sweet song.
I lived my dream when you first spoke to me,
you immediately set my inhibitions free.
I chatted away making no real sense
you must’ve thought me stupid and dense.
How I got courage to ask you out for a drink
is a mystery to me and it still makes me think,
and when you agreed, but I still asked again
I realised my mistake, but blushed just the same.
But now after four years I adore you even more
you are the key that unlocks my life’s door.
Our baby is the flower that we gave to each other
and she reminds me so much of her loving mother.
poem by Orlando Belo
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Life’s Questions
When I was the tender age of five,
I asked my mother a question about life.
“I know I hear your voice, and I hear mine,
Were does my voice come from, it seems so sublime.”
Then of course my mom did retort,
She is not the comforting kind of sort.
“If you asked anyone they would think you were crazy”
So I decided hey, I know I will find out one day I’m not lazy.
I did talk to many who are a sage,
Even read the written page.
Of all the questions I have to ask,
How did we get here, I know it’s not by chance.
Now I read “Conversations with God”
It helped me confirm and figure it all out.
Written by Suzae Chevalier on August 26,2011
www.puppetpoems.com www.purplepoems.com
www.christinasunrise.com
poem by Christina Sunrise
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2113
had to kiss you one more time
so i followed you home
and i almost lost you at the light.
i've seen you a couple of times
but i had no idea
that you would be mine tonight.
i was to meet another girl,
but she didn't show
and you asked if i was alone, oh
the night came to an end
had to kiss you one more time
so i followed you home, oh
i'm just a boy
i'm on the side
yeah, believe me i don't mind
i'm just a boy
not quite your type
and that don't matter much tonight
yeah, you asked if you could call
but you didn't write it down
so i thought that we were through.
and when you said
song performed by by Bowling For Soup
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Long Lost Daughter
This poem was inspired by a storyline on the TV show 'Casualty', when Colette's long lost daughter found her.
My Mum came to see me at work,
Asking to speak to me urgently.
She had recieved a phone call
From my long lost daughter, Natalie.
Then one day, Natalie turned up at work.
I was taken by surprise:
She was a beautiful young lady now,
And was stood before my very eyes.
I asked my boss for an hour's break.
Natalie and I went for a walk.
We had a lot of catching up to do,
And had a good heart to heart talk.
She asked why I had her adopted
And I had to tell her the truth.
My Mum had told me if I kept her,
I was no longer welcome under her roof.
I was fifteen at the time.
I was alone and very afraid.
Soon after I had her, she was whisked away,
And so it was at home I stayed.
She asked about her father,
But he left me years ago.
When he discovered I was pregnant,
He just didn't want to know.
Sixteen years had passed
Since I gave my little girl away,
But eventhough life carried on,
I thought about her every day.
Only those close to me knew of her existence.
I'd kept her a secret all that time,
But now the time had finally arrived,
To tell the world, Natalie was mine!
poem by Angela Wybrow
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123
From the bowery to the brimstone
I tried to find your heart
With drugs of initiation
The bottom of a barrel that drops
I understand your causes
Sympathize the motivation
But all the details of this war
Are just self-infatuation
And its 1 2 3
Nothings for free
4 5 6
Pick up the sticks and go home
Manic blood runs thick my friend
Are you looking for a clean escape
Whats left when the locks have all been broken
Young children of authority
Now how long can you be agile
Dancing between the alter and the mercy seat
Yeah now heres a chance to make a choice
Are you aware of the fire beneath your feet
1 2 3
Nothings for free
4 5 6
Pick up the sticks and go home
The basement lies within us
Our fear comes through the door
Now theres nothing left between us
As the fear becomes a roar
Once that wheel is in motion
Dont you lose what you have found
Im talking about that burning wheel of tongues
Everything that makes it go round and round
Were all born in the devils scorn
They want to see you die
Im asking you are you true
Everything they say is a lie
Its a lie
1 2 3
Nothings for free
4 5 6
Pick up the sticks and go
1 2 3
Nothings for free
4 5 6
Pick up the sticks and go
1 2 3
(were all born)
Nothings for free
(in the devils scorn)
1 2 3
(were all born)
Nothings for free
(in the devils scorn)
Everything they say its a lie
(were all born)
Its a lie now
(in the devils scorn)
Everything they say its a lie
Its a lie now
Pick up the sticks
(pick up the sticks)
Pick up the sticks
(pick up the sticks)
Pick up the sticks
(pick up the sticks)
Pick up the sticks
And go home
song performed by by Indigo Girls
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Work In Progress
Okay, I forgot about the trash,
I didn't trim the long hairs on my moustache.
I did buy you a ring; I believe it was back in '93.
Alright, I admit it; I forgot our anniversary.
I did pick up the baby this morning at the nursery.
That ain't no big thing; It's a gold star for me.
You get tired and disgusted with me,
When I can't be just what you want me to be.
I still love you and I try real hard.
I swear, one day, you'll have a brand new car.
I even asked the Lord to try to help me:
He looked down from Heaven, said to tell you please;
Just be patient, I'm a work in progress.
I'm sorry I got mad, waitin' in the truck;
It seemed like hours, you gettin' all dressed up,
Just to go to Shoney's on a Wednesday night.
I read that book you gave me about Mars and Venus;
I think it's sinkin' in but I probably need to re read it,
But I'm starting to see now, what you been saying is right.
You get tired and disgusted with me,
When I can't be just what you want me to be.
I still love you and I try real hard.
I swear, one day, you'll have a brand new car.
I even asked the Lord to try to help me:
He looked down from Heaven, said to tell you please;
Just be patient, I'm a work in progress.
Instrumental Break.
I know you meant well when you bought gave me those clogs,
But my heels get hot down by the muffler on my hog.
I'm sure they're stylish, but I'll take my boots.
I try to do that health thing like you want me to do,
That low-fat, no fat's gettin' hard to chew.
Now, I love your cookin', honey,
But sometimes, I need some real food.
You get tired and disgusted with me,
When I can't be just what you want me to be.
I still love you and I try real hard.
I swear, one day, you'll have a brand new car.
I even asked the Lord to try to help me:
He looked down from Heaven, said to tell you please;
Just be patient, I'm a work in progress.
Oh honey, just be patient, now,
I'm a work in progress.
Oh, I need a major tune up.
Maybe a full, body-off, restoration.
song performed by by Alan Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Long Way Home Long Way Home
Walking down an alien street a miserable day in February,
thought he was dreaming asked what am I doing here.
The buildings and people are not as he remembered as
a child. He tried to cross the street but cars kept coming.
A woman took his arm and helped him to cross.
They told him he had lived here for twenty years but
told him in English as he didn't understand the language
these strange people spoke. Tired he sat down at
pavement café, a man asked him what he wanted… he didn't
now so the kind man brought him coffee.
I must find my way home, he said to himself, but I don't know
where it is. Then he remembered that his mother was dead,
he had been asleep, and as he slept the world changed and
he was lost in a future that was not his.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Your Cloud
where the river cross
crosses the lake
where the words
jump off my pen
and into your pages
do you think
just like that
you can divide
this you as yours
me as mine to
before we were us
if the rain has to separate
from itself
does it say "pick out your cloud?"
pick out your cloud
if there is
a horizontal line
that runs from the map
off your body
straight through the land
shooting up
right through my heart
will this horizontal line
when asked
know how to find
where you end
where i begin
"pick out your cloud"
how light can play
and form a ring of rain
that can change bows into arrows
(i found a thrill)
who we were isn't lost
before we were us
indigo in his own
blue always knew this
if the rain
has to separate
from itself
does it say pick out your cloud
song performed by by Tori Amos from Scarlet's Walk
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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(Inspiration Poem) A Book Never Read
Living by the fire
Living to admire
Living down to the wire
Still the wheels don't turn
I think it is because I want it
Urn for it
The beautiful almighty
I will not pray
Not as long as I live day by day
How much does my soul really weigh?
How many sins can be forgiven?
The fog will eventually choke you out
Whine and pout all you want
It won't make a dent in my steel cage
Because it was built from pure rage
If Its not a stage
What am I going through?
Its just another page of my book never read
Words as stale as the food I was fed
Maybe it was how many times I have been dropped on my head
I plead guilty to an unwritten destiny
I lied to myself in a mirror straight to my very own face
Memories erased
It's just another page of my book never read
I can't be lead astray
Especially if I'm willing
It's not much different then stealing
A moral yeng then yang
A oh so perfect harmony
Keeping things on a even keel
Always questioning what is real
It's just another page of my book never read
I hold on so tight to my comfy bed
Such a beautiful night
The stars are glistening oh so bright
I turn off the lights
Sleep for the dreams of a tomorrow
We are all living on borrowed time
So I ask again where's mine?
A question that continues to go unanswered
Draw your own conclusion
It's another one of the deep dark mysterious illusions
It's just another page of my book never read
It's as if every word has never been said
It's just another page of my tattered and torn book that will be never read
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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A Pink Dream
Rio sunrise sucking on a straw
I rub my head and stagger out the door
And head into the bright new beautiful day
And the way she pulls me in
Sucks my breath away i asked her for some time
And she just made me it
I asked her maybe why?
And she just gave me it never smile
Never stare
She doesn't seem to care at all
Never cry
Never scream
She doesn't really seem to need me at all
Fourteen weeks i stay away from home
A hundred days a part of me unknown
Apart in pink and perfect moments play
And as a wonder of the world
She sucks my breath away
I asked her for some time
And she just made me it
I asked her maybe why?
And she just gave me it
So i asked her could be heaven?
And she just prayed me it...
She didn't want to know my name
She didn't want to know how long we had together
Spending time as if tomorrow never comes
I didn't want to know the end
I didn't want to go but slowly found me home again
And slow again tomorrow comes
But it was all so far away
And so long ago
I hardly ever think about her anymore
Except sometimes when the summer twilight breeze
Carries me the scent of faraway rain
I remember...
And she still sucks my breath away
song performed by by Cure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Scribbles On A Page
Scribbles on a page…
scribbles on a page…
back of a yellow notebook
torn pages out
let me go home
God!
let me go home
Scribbles on a page…
scribbles on a page…
my little black writing pad
bent cover-spine
let me go home
God!
let me go home
(i think i need a break)
(i think i need to sleep)
poem by Michael Romero
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Value in a Coin
Am a coin
under the carpet am swept
am to be missed not
into the street, am thrown
in the summer sun I glint
for days there I lay
am change
change in a 99 discount store
keep change
keep change, I heard you say
cause worthless my value stay
pick me up
pick me up little boy
I heard, coins is what you collect
toss me in that jar
that jar by your window pane
slowly, slowly that jar will fill
in numbers I have the power
the power in a paper note
go buy what you want
cant decide what to get?
heads or tails
will tell what to get
poem by Pada Kambanji
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The Book
I have found myself searching for a book in my father's attic.
A book that he meant to burn, but instead hid away.
On his deathbed he told me categorically to destroy it,
by burning each page come what may.
The book was a Greek translation from ancient Aramaic text,
which was discovered in eastern Turkey in 1886.
The goat herder that found it sold it for a few Turkish lira
to a Greek mountain climber and archaeologist.
In Athens he read it and told a learned friend about its contents,
his so called friend told someone else and so did he.
This inevitably led to the book being stolen and repeatedly sold,
until my father bought it from a French soldier in 1943.
As a young man my father studied ancient Greek at university
and soon realised what the book contained.
It was a powder keg of mind blowing revelations about the psyche,
its development and expansion were explained.
It detailed the mind control of others, mysticism, and the occult.
The practice of spiritual and angelic communication.
The transportation of the body to other dimensions,
and life's process of perpetuation.
My father read the book though didn't practice it's teachings,
he realised the enormous threats to life it contained.
But for many reasons he found its destruction impossible,
so it's fate with me remained.
poem by Orlando Belo
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