Related quotes: As certain as death and...

Spring will come busting in

As certain as death and taxes
Spring will come busting in the front door
all fresh and green somewhere else

Here in Chicago it comes dragging through
the grimy streets like a teenage thug
sullen and morose smelling like
a dumpster behind a meat market
raw and red-eyed as a wino on the skids

But what the hell! Isn't that the charm
of a metropolis built on wasteland
near a great lake? Another pewter
day like most of February
dull and without spark at all
a nightmare city in gray tones

But after Spring gasps to a close
we can look with audacious hope
for Summer!

poem by Michael Pruchnicki
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes

Baba O'Reily

Out here in the fields
I fight for my meals
I get my back into my living
I don't need to fight
To prove I'm right
I don't need to be forgiven
Don't cry
Don't raise your eye
It's only teenage wasteland
Sally ,take my hand
Travel south crossland
Put out the fire
Don't look past my shoulder
The exodus is here
The happy ones are near
Let's get together
Before we get much older
Teenage wasteland
It's only teenage wasteland
Teenage wasteland
Oh, oh
Teenage wasteland
They're all wasted!

song performed by by Who
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Baba Oriley

Out here in the fields
I fight for my meals
I get my back into my living
I dont need to fight
To prove Im right
I dont need to be forgiven
Dont cry
Dont raise your eye
Its only teenage wasteland
Sally ,take my hand
Travel south crossland
Put out the fire
Dont look past my shoulder
The exodus is here
The happy ones are near
Lets get together
Before we get much older
Teenage wasteland
Its only teenage wasteland
Teenage wasteland
Oh, oh
Teenage wasteland
Theyre all wasted!

song performed by by Who
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Baba O Riley

song performed by by Nirvana
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wino Junko

Doctor tom is getting on,
All he does is sign his name.
I get things my brainbox sings,
But Ill go down again.
Play with fire, getting higher,
Higher than a nine foot flame.
My soul is pent and sos the rent,
But Ill go down again.
Wino junko cant say no,
Wino junko, eyes aglow.
Pill freak, spring a leak, you cant say no
Till you go down again
This and treat you crazy cat,
Flying sideways once again.
Im in a spin it makes me grin,
But Ill go down again.
Wino junko cant say no,
Wino junko, eyes aglow.
Pill freak, spring a leak, you cant say no
Till you go down again.
Till you go down again.
Till you go down again.
Till you go down.
Take what I need until I bleed,
People will say Ive gone insane.
Aint scared to die, its such a high,
Till I go down again.
Wino junko cant say no,
Wino junko, eyes aglow.
Pill freak, spring a leak, you cant say no,
Till you go down again.
Wino junko cant say no,
Wino junko, eyes aglow.
Pill freak, spring a leak, you cant say no,
Till you go down again.
Wino junko...

song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Baba Oriley

Out here in the fields, I fight for my meals
I get my back into my living
I dont need to fight, to prove Im right
I dont need to be forgiven
Dont cry, dont raise your eye
Its only teenage wasteland
Sally, take my hand
Well travel south, cross land
Put out the fire and dont look past my shoulder
The exodus is here
The happy ones are near
Lets get together befor we get much older
Teenage wasteland
Its only teenage wasteland
Teenage wasteland
(its only) teenage wasteland
Theyre all wasted!

song performed by by Pearl Jam
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Life Is Lovely All the Year

When the buds are blossoming,
Smiling welcome to the spring,
Lovers choose a wedding day -
Life is love in merry May!

Spring is green - Fal lal la!
Summer's rose - Fal lal la!
It is sad when Summer goes,
Fal la!
Autumn's gold - Fal lal la!
Winter's grey - Fal lal la!
Winter still is far away -
Fal la!
Leaves in Autumn fade and fall;
Winter is the end of all.
Spring and summer teem with glee:
Spring and summer, then, for me!
Fal la!

In the Spring-time seed is sown:
In the Summer grass is mown:
In the Autumn you may reap:
Winter is the time for sleep.

Spring is hope - Fal lal la!
Summer's joy - Fal lal la!
Spring and Summer never cloy,
Fal la!
Autumn, toil - Fal lal la!
Winter, rest - Fal lal la!
Winter, after all, is best -
Fal la!
Spring and summer pleasure you,
Autumn, ay, and winter, too -
Every season has its cheer;
Life is lovely all the year!
Fal la!

poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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New Spring

Spring!

Spring! How beautiful is the
Spring! How wonderful is the
Spring! How majestic is the
Spring! How fantastic is the
Spring! How tantalizing is the
Spring! How glorious is the
Spring! How melodious is the
Spring! How joyful is the
Spring! How breathtaking is the
Spring! How uplifting the
Spring! How happy is the
Spring! How magnificent is the
Spring! How colorful is the
Spring! How tasteful is the
Spring! How memorable was the
Spring! How flavorful is the
Spring! How aromic is the
Spring! How sweet is
Spring! How beautiful is the
Spring!

poem by Mario Saboundjian
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An Early Day in May

May soothed
– sensual breeze caressing.

Snug, she cooed in floral chroma;
Gave artistic license – dressing up
Pubescent fields, teenage woods,
Jaded lanes; embellishing
Craggy watersides.

Warmth was kind – sun tempered,
Lifting life; erecting bluebell swathes
For good measure: late-spring treasure.

At hill’s base
A mirrored lake, brooding,
Bathed in halcyon haze –
Yet hectic life scurried,
Spurred on by procreational drive,
To see it all survived another year.

Back home, garden tulips flared,
Thrust aloft on rigid stems, and
Under day-time brilliance,
Open goblets, clustered,
Sought out heavenly guidance –
Lauding hallowed Tulipa gods.

May is Nature’s intermission –
Bridging April’s go-ahead
With hothead June.

s pring spring spring spring spring spring
spring spring spring spring spring spring
spring spring spring spring spring spring
spring spring spring spring spring spring

poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Chicago Sestina

I am surprised by the streets of Chicago
when the palm of winter grips them with snow
as if to forgive the city’s mistakes
and give it a canvas that’s new, white, and clean–
its fingers, the branches on all of the trees
kneading the air that blows in from the lake.

I’ve never lived next to the pulse of the lake
(until I set foot down the side of Chicago)
breathing in through the streets and out through the trees
welcoming the cool of the wet, numbing snow.
It lets my mind slip into thinking it’s clean
as if to personally forgive my mistakes.

“But what have you done to forgive your mistakes? ”
Did I ask this? Or is that the voice of the lake?
Some days, not even does it appear clean,
worn down from its tall standing neighbor, Chicago.
It scrapes at the sky, asking it for more snow
to stick to and freeze the trunks of the trees.

If I were a branch on one of these trees
incapable of making a single mistake,
I’d grab at the sky as it shook out the snow
and grow my roots thick till they tasted the lake.
But I wouldn’t bend to the force of Chicago
that’s constantly keeping me from being clean.

And what does it mean to try to be clean?
I don’t understand the stillness of the trees
when they’re being attacked by the size of Chicago
as if to glorify the city’s mistakes
that glisten like stars at night on the lake
before it all froze and was covered with snow.

Ah! To imagine how long there’s been snow.
How can something this old still feel so clean
and dance through the wind that swoops in from the lake?
Is it the kneading by the spiny branches on trees
trusting that there will be no more mistakes
that leaves these the only pure thing in Chicago?

Here comes the snow that seeks out the trees
Am I now clean? Where are my mistakes?
Chicago belongs where it lay with the lake.

poem by Brian Maloney
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Country Path in Late Spring

The path of mossy ground nestled
In between maternal hedgerows,
That overgrew atop, dimming down
The brilliance of the day.
Embosomed, a calm-cool vision –
Abstract takes of nature, in
Leaf-spattered green shades;
Stem-speckled brown hues;
Shards of sunlight percolating
Through the random flaws to
Up glittering sprites upon the leaves.

And avian chatter bounced along the burrow,
Smattered by the crosstalk
Of busybody insects;
But outside the green comfort zone,
Other worlds of other sounds of other life
Otherwise gave a hint of
Other dozy goings on.

Hawthorn filled the air,
Filled the nose,
Filled the head –
Pungency had overpowered all –
Gave the late-spring-early-summer haze.

Here and there a break of colour:
Odd bluebells – escapees from nearby woods –
Blue-blushing bell faces glancing down,
Aware of their erectness in the stem;
The flaming wing of red admirals
Broke through a hedge hole to
Break up the calm backdrop,
While flitting blue tits gave
To greater-bodied animation.

Nature’s warm narration –
The undertones of life.

spring nature nature spring; spring nature nature spring
spring nature nature spring; spring nature nature spring
spring nature nature spring; spring nature nature spring
spring nature nature spring; spring nature nature spring
spring nature nature spring; spring nature nature spring
spring nature nature spring; spring nature nature spring
spring nature nature spring; spring nature nature spring
spring nature nature spring; spring nature nature spring
spring nature nature spring; spring nature nature spring
spring nature nature spring; spring nature nature spring
spring nature nature spring; spring nature nature spring
spring spring spring spring spring spring spring spring
spring spring spring spring spring spring spring spring

poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Will there be another

Will this be
The last Spring
I see?

Or will I enjoy
a few Springs
More?

Enjoy the last March thaw
The first robin’s
Call?

Or will I arrive in Hell…
Or at heaven’s
Door?

I’ll find out soon
Sure…There’s no doubt
Of that

And if for me
Another Spring
Is to be

I will treasure it
With relish and
Then …again wonder

What’s to come after Spring?
Will there be
any thing?

Will I be allowed
Another…
Summer?

poem by David Whalen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Spring versus Summer

Spring is slowly leaving
And summer is swiftly arriving
And for me that really matter
Because the days are getting hotter

I love spring but mostly I love fall
That's when I really have a ball
That's when the days are just kinder
By reminding me when days are just better!

I hate to see spring go,
And for summer to my door just to show,
I don't like to feel all the heat,
Because that's when my body takes the beat

I prefer much better the cold weather
But I like it more when we are together,
Lots of rain and winds start to fall and blow,
Spring is about to exit and take her bow

Spring is slowly leaving
And summer is swiftly arriving
It makes me sad to see spring go
And for summer to my door just to show!

May,7,2007

poem by Dorian Petersen Potter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Buried To-Day

February 23, 1858.

BURIED to-day.
When the soft green buds are bursting out,
And up on the south wind comes a shout
Of village boys and girls at play
In the mild spring evening gray.

Taken away
Sturdy of heart and stout of limb,
From eyes that drew half their light from him,
And put low, low, underneath the clay,
In his spring--on this spring day.

Passes away
All the pride of boy-life begun,
All the hope of life yet to run;
Who dares to question when One saith 'Nay.'
Murmur not--only pray.

Enters to-day
Another body in churchyard sod,
Another soul on the life in God.
HIS Christ was buried--and lives alway:
Trust Him, and go your way.

poem by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Looking, Watching, Waiting

It's Winter now,
And everything is cold and bare.
Used to be lush and green,
Covered in leaves.

The snow is melting.
It's getting warmer.
Spring is on it's way.

Now Spring has come
The snow has all melted,
And the trees are getting more leaves.
It's warm now,
And i can't wait for Summer to arrive.

Summer is finally here!
I go outside and run barefoot through the streets.
Windows are open and the birds are singing.
Summer is finally here!

Now Summer is gone, and Fall is in the air.
Soon it will get colder,
And i will once again be looking, watching, waiting,
For Summer's arrival.

poem by Vi Lanflagle
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Last Spring

THIS morning at the door
I heard the Spring.
Quickly I set it wide
And, welcoming,
'Come in, sweet Spring,' I cried,
'The winter ash, long dried,
Waits but your breath to rise
On phantom wing.'

A brown leaf shivered by,
A soulless thing--
My heart in quick dismay
Forgot to sing--
Twisted and grim it lay,
Kin to the ghost-ash gray,
Dead, dead--strange herald this
Of jocund Spring!

I spurned it from the door.
I longed that Spring
Should come with song and glow
And rush of wing,
Not this, not this!--But O
Dead leaf, a year ago
You were the dear first-born
Of Hope and Spring!

poem by Isabel Ecclestone Mackay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Great Chicago Fire

The great Chicago Fire, friends,
Will never be forgot;
In the history of Chicago
It will remain a darken spot.
It was a dreadful horrid sight
To see that City in flames;
But no human aid could save it,
For all skill was tried in vain.

In the year of 1871,
In October on the 8th,
The people in that City, then
Was full of life, and great.
Less than four days it lay in ruins,
That garden City, so great
Lay smouldering in ashes,
In a sad and pitiful state.

It was a sad, sad scene indeed,
To see the fire arise,
And hear the crackling of the flames
As it almost reached the skies,
And sadder still, to hear the moans,
Of people in the flames
Cry for help, and none could get,
Ah, die where they remained.

To see the people run for life;
Up and down the blazing streets,
To find then, their escape cut off
By the fiery flaming sheets,
And others hunting for some friend
That perhaps they never found,
Such weeping, wailing, never was known,
For a thousands miles around.

Some people were very wealthy
On the morning of the 10th.
But at the close of the evening,
Was poor, but felt content,
Glad to escape from harm with life
With friends they loved so well,
Some will try to gain more wisdom,
By the sad sight they beheld.

Five thousand people were homeless,
Sad wanderers in the streets,
With no shelter to cover them,
And no food had they to eat.
They wandered down by the lake side,
Lay down on the cold damp ground,
So tired and weary and homeless,
So the rich, the poor, was found.

Mothers with dear little infants,
Some clinging to the breast.
People of every description
All laid down there to rest,
With the sky as their covering,
Ah, pillows they had none.
Sad, oh sad, it must have been,
For those poor homeless ones.

Neighboring Cities sent comfort,
To the poor lone helpless ones,
And God will not forget them
In all the years to come.
Now the City of Chicago
Is built up anew once more,
And may it never be visited
With such a great fire no more.

poem by Julia A Moore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Endlessly

To me...
You are everything.
To me...
You're my Summer,
And my Spring.
To me...
You're warm when shoulders cold.
To me...
You bring fresh air,
I hold!
And to me...
You spark a flame that inspires.
To me...
You set fire to my desires.
And to me,
I would not feel this free...
To be this fascinated,
Endlessly!
To me...
You are everything.
To me...
You're my Summer,
And my Spring.
To me...
You're warm when shoulders cold.
As Fall turns into snow drifts in the Winter...
Knowing I grow old.
To me...
You're my Summer,
And my Spring.
And never will I dismiss that,
Feeling this...
You're with me,
Endlessly!
And never will I dismiss that,
Feeling this...
You're with me,
Endlessly!
You're with me,
Endlessly!
And never will I dismiss that,
Feeling this...
You're with me,
Endlessly!
You are with me,
Endlessly!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Stairs

(pamela brown, david roberts)
She looks at the clock, its a quarter past nine.
She hears his car as he pulls in the drive.
Dinners still waiting from hours before.
She knows hes been drinking when he walks through the door.
In anger he strikes out and she starts to cry.
How much more can she take, how much more can
She lie.
And she fell down the stairs again.
But it hasnt happened since she dont know when.
Was it in spring when she packed up the kids, or
Maybe in winter with his job on the skids.
Oh but just like before shell have to
Pretend that she fell down the stairs again.
A short time ago, she started
A job, serving chicken fried steak and corn on the cob.
She started out shy, but she ended up sure,
That a ticket to anywhere could be the cure.
But he couldnt handle her change for the better.
She tried to leave him , but he wouldnt let her.
He says hes sorry, hed never mean it.
He swears it wont happen again. but shes so confused,
She wants to believe it. she just wants this nightmare to end.
And she fell down the stair again.
But it hasnt happened since she dont know when.
Was it in spring when she packed up the kids, or
Maybe in winter with his job on the skids.
Oh but just like before shell have to pretend
That she fell down the stairs again.

song performed by by Reba Mcentire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tough Streets Of Chicago

Tough streets of Chicago, you made me who I am.
Tough streets of Chicago, for me you had a plan.
You forced me to observe, what kids my age did not.
You taught me to look and see, always looking for a plot.
You taught me to react, and kept me on my toes.
You taught me to examine, the actions of my foes.
You forced me to react, in situations dire.
You made sure I would function, when I came under fire.
You made sure I was tough, made sure I'd understand,
the skills that I would need, when I joined uncle Sam.

Tough streets of Chicago, I almost went insane.
Tough streets of Chicago, you caused me so much pain.
You made me grow up fast, always dodging death.
You made me run from danger, could hardly catch my breath.
You took most of my friends, why, I'll never understand.
You made it possible to count, all my friends on one hand.
You took them in their teens, you took them very young.
You took them way before, to live they had begun.

Tough streets of Chicago, my tour is almost up.
Tough streets of Chicago, with your gangster posting up.
Tough streets of Chicago, can't get you off my mind.
Tough streets of Chicago, I miss those streets of mine.
Tough streets of Chicago...............................

poem by Rico Avila
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poetica

Spring is here
And I think spring is here to stay
The cold days of winter God took away
And winter is resting away for the summe
But now spring is working hard
Than when summer arrive spring will be able to rest all through the Summer
The nights are beautiful during the spring because they are mild

poem by Aldo Kraas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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En.Citatepedia®.ro

Spring will come busting in

Related quotes

Baba O'Reily

Baba Oriley

Baba O Riley

Wino Junko

Baba Oriley

Life Is Lovely All the Year

New Spring

An Early Day in May

Chicago Sestina

A Country Path in Late Spring

Will there be another

Spring versus Summer

Buried To-Day

Looking, Watching, Waiting

Last Spring

The Great Chicago Fire

Endlessly

The Stairs

Tough Streets Of Chicago

Poetica

En.Citatepedia^®.ro