Scrunched Blue
There are more terrible places
Than graves.
The marketplace,
The carnival,
A flophouse,
The train stations.
The cold concrete stares
At you like the abyss.
And it only takes
So short to realize
That in these broken places
We are most alive.
poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr
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Soul Dance
I will dance with you
It will be the dance of my soul
I will be open and honest
Show you my inner being
I will trust you
Take you to places in my soul that have been broken and restored
Places that cause pain and healing
Places that have hated and loved
Places I have forgotten and remembered
Places I have not visited in a long time and places I go every day
I will dance with you the dance of my soul
And feel your soul dance with mine to those same places in yours
poem by Mandi Ducroq
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Every Morning
every morning...he takes his off...his eyes...from their places...clumsily...lazı ly.....as he...as he leaves out..and gets out of his dreams...then he...puts on his feet...counts his arms..and if his fingers are in teir right places and complete...he places his head to its usual place...he then takes out his stomach....pours some tea in it....and silently...goes out...leaves to work...there he takes out his feet again...his fills his head with many troubles....in evening he returns home..his lonely home...then counts his broken hopes...he leaves one of his feet in the kitchen..the other on the streets....then scatters his fingers in the house...then goes....to sleep...to dreams...
poem by Metin Sahin
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It seems that the more places I see and experience, the bigger I realize the world to be. The more I become aware of, the more I realize how relatively little I know of it, how many places I have still to go, how much more there is to learn. Maybe that's enlightenment enough — to know that there is no final resting place of the mind, no moment of smug clarity. Perhaps wisdom, at least for me, means realizing how small I am, and unwise, and how far I have yet to go.
quote by Anthony Bourdain
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Places in the Heart
There are places in the heart,
that are still unmarred by
understanding -
those places that we have
kept hidden for so long
from all those prying eyes,
prowling in the darkness -
There are places in the heart,
filled with childhood memories
of laughter and joy,
hope and new beginnings,
those places that we revisit
secretly and tenderly,
those places that make us
feel alive again -
There are places in the heart
that know no boundaries,
no limitations, but unrestrained
happiness of a smiling child,
filled with wonder and love
for the world, feeling both
godlike and tiny, overtaken
by the invisible presence
that permeates the moon
and the countless stars -
There are places in the heart,
where life is filled with miracles
and questions lead to more
questions, prompted by infinite
curiosity and the desire to know
the essence of things,
there are places that only
you and I know,
those places that remind us
who we really are -
For we are the essence
of life's joy and discovery,
truth and beauty, love and
tenderness, that penetrates
the cracks of a fractured world,
we are those places in the heart
that know no end and no beginning,
but love and only love,
that sings through us like
warm summer rain.
poem by Alexander Shaumyan
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To Be Forgiven
Im going down
Wont you help me
Save me from myself
I hear the sound of a memory
Maybe time will tell
Suddenly my life is like a river
Taking me places I dont want to go
But like all good men who swim too well
It takes all that I have just to cry for help
Then that voice in my head
Tells me no
Im going down
Wont you help me
Save me from myself
I look around for a fantasy
Maybe
Who can tell?
Let me live my life beside the river
Take me to places where a child can grow
And then
Maybe the boy inside will forsake me
Maybe
The child in me
Will just let me go
Im going down
The cold, cold water is rushing in
Im going down
And I would beg to be forgiven
If I knew my sin
song performed by by George Michael
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Far Away Places
(alex kramer / joan whitney)
The springfields
Far away places
With strange sounding names
Far away over the sea
Far away places
With the strange sounding names
Are callin, (callin), callin, (callin) me
Going to china, or maybe siam
I wanna see for myself
Those far away places
Ive been reading about
In a book (in a book)
That I took (that I took)
From a shelf
I start getting restless
Whenever I hear
The whistle of a train
I pray for the day I can get under way
And look for those castles in spain
They call me a dreamer
Well, maybe I am
But I know that Im burning to see
Those far away places
With the strange sounding names
Callin, (callin), callin, (callin) me
Far away, so far away
Far away, so far away
song performed by by Dusty Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fear Of The Marketplace
Written by: neil diamond
Fear of the marketplace
Afraid of the world outside a door
Maybe its cold out there
And if its cold, you cant come home anymore
Fear of the marketplace
Just gotta forget the whole damned thing
Youre ready to take that fling
Youre ready to make it swing, youve done it before
Just open the door
You and i
Know we tried
Tried it all before
And we almost made it thru
Long ago
Is so far away
Like a flame that would burn
In the heart of the night
Like a flame that would burn
Giving heat, giving light
It was right, yeah
Fear of the marketplace
Just taking that ride inside your head
Are you alive, or dead
When youre alive
You get to try one more time
Its gonna be fine
Gonna be fine
Try one more time
You can try one more time
Wony you try one more time
Come on and try one more time
We can try, just one more time
One more time
We can try
Come on try, just one more time
One more time
song performed by by Neil Diamond
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Clown
He's the clown at the carnival
he's always lively
he's always happy
and with his little magics
he brings joy
to every children's heart.
He's the clown at the carnival
he's always smiling
but utters no word
jumping
dancing
tumbling
jugglin g
he does nothing
but give joy.
He's the clown at the carnival
but when twilight comes
no one can say.
He's the clown at the carnival
beside the cold cemented bed
of his beloved
his tears endlessly falling
from his eyes
no longer painted with colors.
He's the clown at the carnival
have you already seen his tears?
poem by Marites C. Cayetano
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In The Spending Of Their Time
People who do not appreciate,
Their blessed lives.
Or those equally blessed,
God places into their lives.
Hopefully,
They will come to eventually realize...
There is an ungrateful self-centeredness,
In the spending of their time.
Hopefully,
They will come to realize...
There is an ungrateful self-centeredness,
In their blinded minds.
No one can be all-knowing,
If one has never been alone.
Or have been on their own...
To know the true meaning of self-evaluation.
Or value emotional devastation.
If one has not,
Opened up that lock.
If no one takes the time to stop,
To take 'inventory' of their stock...
That seems for them to never come,
With a dropping of a blocking...
That stuns and shocks.
They will never know,
How this affects and hurts one so!
Those me-me, I-I activities...
Isolates the mind.
Sickens the body.
And darkens a lost soul.
People who do not appreciate,
Their blessed lives.
Or those equally blessed,
God places into their lives...
Hopefully,
They will come to eventually realize...
There is an ungrateful self-centeredness,
In the spending of their time.
There is an ungrateful self-centeredness,
In their blinded minds.
And...
In time,
When they are left confined...
Behind.
With no one concerned...
What it is in their lives,
Or on their minds.
They will come to learn to yearn!
In the spending of,
Their time.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Dreams of Un-forbidden
I used to dream
Dream of places with endless skies
Dream of places with high mountains
Dream of places with low clouds
Dream of the place I am living in
But nobody dares dream here
Here is the place
Where the men have no hope
Where woman walk without a soul
Where children’s laughter
No longer bounces off the walls
This is my home
And I have no shame
Even when I roam
To the places so hidden
I wish it to be the un-forbidden
poem by Jackie Emley
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My Home
How do I find my way back?
I've strayed too far from home.
I've gone so many places
for so many days.
I've even been to Rome.
I have seen so many sights now.
It seems to me that somehow
that every place I've ever seen
were places in-between
from the place that is my home.
My search for brand new places
and all those other places
never filled the gap
as I crossed the map,
so far from my sweet home.
For I missed the landscape,
the place that I grew up in.
The old familiar faces
were not in the places I've been.
And now I must retrace my steps.
I've searched this world all over.
Too long I've been a rover.
I'll take a trip on back
for I'm on the wrong track.
I wonder what I'll find at my home?
Nothing seems the same now.
Familiarity has changed somehow,
except for the peace I feel around me.
'Cause in my memory I still can see
the place that is my home.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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I Lived My Life /For A Dream
I LIVED MY LIFE/ FOR A DREAM
I lived my life
For a dream
I could not realize.
Now I am more broken
At “the broken places”
The winds of poverty and sickness
Surround
While I still cry out
My little sounds
As if I were a ‘youngin’.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Traveling, you realize that differences are lost: each city takes to resembling all cities, places exchange their form, order, distances, a shapeless dust cloud invades the continents.
quote by Italo Calvino
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cats Claw
(myles goodwyn/jim clench)
Published by summerlea music, ltd. - bmi
She huh, living in a cats claw mind
Hoping you like what you find
But youd better take it real slow
So many things you dont know
Sweeter than the sweet that comes to the brain
Just upon the threshold of pain
Thats the hold you have over me
Woman wont you please set me free
You took me places higher than I ever wanted to go
You took me places higher than any man should ever hope to go
Strange love, torn between the heart and the soul
Laughing while the body grows cold
Somewhere that I should never be
Woman wont you please let me be
Free me, from the darkness here underground
Screaming but I cant hear a sound
Drowning in the pleasures of pain
I cant see the sky, for the rain
You took me places higher than I ever wanted to go
You took me places higher than any man should ever hope to go, oh no
Reaching for the sun to come and take me home
Sitting in a chair and sinking like a stone
Sweeter than the sweet that comes to the brain
Just upon the threshold of pain
Thats the hold you have over me
Woman wont you please set me free
You took me places higher than I ever wanted to go
You took me places higher than any man should ever hope to go, oh no
song performed by by April Wine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dixie Flyer
(Susan Longacre/Jim Photoglo/Russell Smith)
Well the first thing I remember is the smell of burnin' cinders
And the sound of that old whistle on the wind
I always wondered where the train was going
But I never cared at all where it had been
Yeah the first chance I got, I was gone like a shot
Following that old dream of mine
My only desire was to catch that flyer
And ride it to the end of the line
My life is like a Dixie Flyer
She don't ever look back
So pour on the coal
Let the good times roll
Till the train runs out of track
Full speed ahead no I ain't stoppin' yet
I feel that drivin' wheel down in my soul
I been some places where the train don't stop
Some places where the train don't even go
Yeah some are satisfied just to sit on the side
And watch as the trains roll by
That ain't me, there's too much to see
Gonna roll until the day that I die
My life is like a Dixie Flyer
She don't ever look back
So pour on the coal
Let the good times roll
Till the train runs out of track
Till the train runs out of track
Till the train runs out of track
song performed by by Travis Tritt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I was never one to patiently pick up broken fragments and glue them together again and tell myself that the mended whole was as good as new. What is broken is broken - and I'd rather remember it as it was at its best than mend it and see the broken places as long as I lived.
quote by Margaret Mitchell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Run, Baby, Run
She was born in november 1963
The day that aldous huxley died
And her mama believed
That every man could be free
So her mama got high, high, high
And her daddy marched on birmingham
Singing mighty protest songs
And he pictured all the places
Where he knew that shed belong
But he failed and taught her young
The only thing shed need to carry on
He taught her how to
Run baby run baby run baby run
Baby run
Past the arms of the familiar
And their talk of better days
To the comfort of the strangers
Slipping out before they say
So long
Baby loves to run
She counts out all her money
In the taxi on the way to meet her plane
Stares hopeful out the window
At the workers fighting
Through the pouring rain
Shes searching through the stations
For an unfamiliar song
And shes pictures all the places
Where she knows she still belongs
And she smiles the secret smile
Because she knows exactly how
To carry on
So run baby run baby run baby run
Baby run
From the old familiar faces and
Their old familiar ways
To the comfort of the strangers
Slipping out before they say
So long
Baby loves to run
song performed by by Sheryl Crow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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For Selma
In places like
Selma, Alabama,
Kids say,
In places like
Chicago and New York...
In places like
Chicago and New York
Kids say,
In places like
London and Paris...
In places like
London and Paris
Kids say,
In places like
Chicago and New York...
poem by Langston Hughes
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M4...
it is not at all about sadness
leaving is not sorrow
parting may be but it is on the other
hand
sweeter if only we understand some more
about the beauty and
freshness of
other places of the
heart
swell
there is this reddish part of meeting new
faces and
shaking new hands
exchanging
(glances) places and trekking
new terrains
thinking about clouds and
cliffs
the excitement of falling into the
eternal abyss
of that infinite emptiness
where is the floor?
in this bottomless ponder
where is the end?
if you only know we are in the middle
of this
up there there is nothing to hold
down there there is nothing to hug
here, there is only my hand
it is not a place but it will take you there
have you tasted the purity of
honey?
it is sweet but there is no sugar in it
it sticks.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Poor Places
Its my fathers voice dreaming of
Sailors sailing off in the morning
For the air-conditioned rooms
At the top of the stairs
His jaws been broken
His bandage is wrapped too tight
His fangs have been pulled
And I really want to see you tonight
Theres bourbon on the breath
Of the singer you love so much
He takes all his words from the books
That you dont read anyway
His jaws been broken
His bandage is wrapped too tight
My fangs have been pulled
And I really want to see you tonight
Someone ties a bow
In my backyard to show me love
My voice is climbing walls
Smoking and I want love
My jaws been broken
My heart is wrapped in ice
My fangs have been pulled
And I really want to see you tonight
And it makes no difference to me
How they cried all over overseas
Its hot in the poor places tonight
Im not going outside
They cried all over overseas
It makes no difference to me
Its hot in the poor places tonight
Im not going outside
song performed by by Wilco
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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