The Big Green Chair
Look over there. See the big green chair. Its my favorite place, the chair over there.
I sit there quite often thinking of this and sometimes that. Sometimes when I sit there I wear a hat. Pink of course, nothing else would do. I even have pink shoe, the other one blue.
When I'm sleeply sometimes I crawl up in the big green chair. It smells of dad, his name is brad. But only mom call him brad, to me he's dad.
But my favorite thing about the big green chair is when dad calls my name,
Lainey, my dear, come and sit with me here in my chair, my big green chair.
poem by Brad Milner
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Cogitation
if this chair does not exist
will i, this, chair, me, who asks,
if this chair, exists at all,
can i, exist, too? will i be dependent
on the thought of a chair
a thought of me that i think i
can touch, that i think thoughts
touching this thought of a chair
does the chair think about me,
i ask, looking for that therefore
beside the chair that i thought
is a chair, that i thought is I,
am, therefore, a chair, thinking
chair, on four feet?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Chair Is No Longer Just A Chair
it is your experience that
gives you more meaning to all those which
you think
have been too common and
insignificant,
perhaps
now you must have realized as you sit upon a chair
that someone used to sit there
and that someone waited for another to be with her
that on the same chair
there were some fears
and pains and even longings
and hopes
unrealized and by then
you see that chair not just a chair
you sit there
and you ask it
for this chair though muted by wood
will always have
a story to tell....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Blue Chair
Now its just you and me, my blue friend
And you say that its you that shes thinking of
And our affair must end
But if its you that shes thinking of
I think my broken heart might mend
Chorus: now its my turn to talk and your turn to think
Your turn to buy and my turn to drink
Your turn to cry and my turn to sink down in the blue chair
Down in the blue chair
Now Ive made up my mind Ive made my mistake
And I know that she cries for you
When shes barely awake
Well shes going to bend your mind
Well I hope it dont break
Chorus
Down in the blue chair
We can watch our troubles rise
Like smoke into the air
And drift up to the ceiling
Down in the blue chair
You can feel just like a boy or a man
And next minute you can find yourself kneeling
Down in the blue chair
Theyre boasting of loving the daylights right out of her in the small hours
Down in the blue chair
You say that your love lasts forever when you know the night just hours
And still I want her right now
Not any minute, hour or day
And wherever she is tonight
I want her anyway
I suppose she never said to you,
You were just in the way
Chorus
Down in the blue chair
Down in the blue
Blue becomes you
Down in the blue chair
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Chair Don't make the Man
People see me in this chair and whisper look at that poor man over there. They believe my life is wasted all because I’m in this chair. Well I got some to say that I want you all to hear. Just like clothes don’t really make a man neither does a chair. The chair is just what I use to get me for here to there. Just like people who walk use their legs to get them everywhere. Because besides the chair I’m just like you; I laugh, I cry and yes I have sex too. Now that you all know the next time you see me don’t whisper look at that poor man over there. In fact don’t say anything just remember the chair don’t make the man.
You know the first time I sat in the chair I felt anything but up, it was very emotional for me. I had a chair in my hotel room, a chair at rehearsal, and I was trying to spend as much time as I could in the chair.
quote by Gregory Hines
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Arrow The Chair And The Falling Star
the chair is silent
it has feet but it does not leave
it screeches sometimes
because you are heavy
with your load (this burden
this baggage of the
soul)
the chair faces the sea
because your finger points to
a falling star
and the chair like you
makes a wish
like you
it wishes that the moon
may soon have lips
that you can
kiss throughout the night
unlike you
the chair never dreams of arms.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Someone Keeps Moving My Chair
Mr. horrible
Mr. horrible
Telephone call for mr. horrible
But before he can talk to the ugliness men
Theres some horrible business left
For him to attend to
Something unpleasant has spilled on his brain
As he sponges it off they say
Is this horrible?
Is this horrible?
Its the ugliness men, mr. horrible
Were just trying to bug you
We thought that our dreadfulness
Might be a thing to annoy you with
But mr. horrible says, I dont mind
The thing that bothers me is
Someone keeps moving my chair
Would you mind if we balance this glass of milk
Where your visiting friend accidentally was killed?
Would it be okay with you if we wrote a reminder
Of things well forget to do today otherwise,
Using a green magic marker, if its alright
On the back of your head?
Mr. horrible
Mr. horrible
Were not done with you yet mr. horrible
You have to try on these pants so the ugliness men
Can decide if theyre just as embarrassing as we think
We have to be sure about this
But mr. horrible says, I dont mind
The thing that bothers me is
Someone keeps moving my chair
Someone keeps moving my chair
Mr. horrible says, I dont mind
The thing that bothers me is
Someone keeps moving my chair
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Want to Meet the Person who Made the Chair
I want to meet
The person who made
The chair
Kings and Politicians
Fight for the chair
Fight may be fair unfair
One goes other comes
The chair remains
Always Waiting
For the old to go
New to occupy
I keep thinking
If only benches were there
Hundreds
Could have sat on them
Fights and killings
Would have been less
Less enmity
Less blood shed
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
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The Problem With You
is that
you are too normal for a man,
what normal is, i define it
you are too formal
like a chair
there are other chair possibilities you have not tried
for instance
having only one foot
and still be proud to stand as a chair
on a chain of possibilities
the problem with you is you rhyme like their poem
and you become just like them
a factory made word
another boring mechanism
like a wooden panel without beauty
without the
aha! or
what is this? is this man? is this a chair?
is this a poem?
try something else
wobbling, whirling
a tornado, you haven't been one yet
a storm, an eye
a vacuum, an eclipse
a waste basket, a moon let
a planet, a sunrise without light?
do not just be stanza
be a word misspelled
be an error uncorrected
be a dog with feathers
a pink niche, a broken pen
an expelled meteor
a fallen angel.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Red Chair Fade Away
Red chair fade away
bring back memories
Think of something nice
Fragrant lemon trees
I can feel the speaking sky
I don't want to know
It's filling up the air
Grandpa's fairy tale
Red chair round the fire
Rainbows all the time
We're all going higher
I can feel the speaking sky
I don't want to know
It's filling up the air
Red chair fade away
Red chair fade away
Red chair fade away
Red chair fade away
Red chair fade away
Bring back memories
Think of something nice
Fragrant lemon trees
I can feel the speaking sky
I don't want to know
It's filling up the air
Red chair fade away....
Red chair fade away....
song performed by by Bee Gees from Bee Gees 1st
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You give me electric chair. I no afraid of that chair! You're one of capitalists. You is crook man too. Put me in electric chair. I no care!
quote by Giuseppe Zangara
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Out of the Blue A Patch of Green
-****Rousseau alleged to have used
a pallette of a hundred and some-odd
different greens
in one painting********
-------------------------
There was an empty table
Next to mine
She walked by dressed in green
Holding her coffee she took a spare chair
Then sat down her back to me
She got my attention
My guess was
She was not
Encouraging nor
Expecting company
After the green hit me
Came the pleasent smell
Over the roasting coffee
It was like in the cartoons
When the drawing of the scent
Comes under the guy's nose
Lifts him off his seat
He floats acrosss the room
Led by his nose
By the visable wafts
Who knows what scent it was
I suppose there are some
Who can tell and know its name
All I knew
It was pulling on me
Back to the green in the chair
Darker green at the seams
Slacks lighter green
Leather jacket and
Shoes both different green
Tail of a sweater
Below back of the jacket
Damn another darker green
I wish I had names
for all these greens
Ankles are barely showing
A light tan do they still call it hose
A beige I guess
Probably has a better
Brand name I also don't know
I'm writing this down
As fast as I can
I was working on other stuff
But this is too good to forget
Living in the moment observing
I was thinking
This green is going
To be gone soon
I'm almost out of writing paper
To describe anything more
My coffee's getting cold
What's she here for
To be seen
To just drink coffee
Pass the time until
I look up the green is gone
All I'm left with is
A cold cup of coffee
And this
For you to read
poem by Tom J. Mariani
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No Sittin By The Phone
[verse 1:]
We used to sit over there
That was your favorite chair
But now I sit here alone
I can still smell your scent
So fresh in my head
Still feel you kiss me goodbye
I washed clothes today.
Found some of your garments
Guess you forgot them when you left
Took out the trash as you would
And dined by myself
Guess I better get used to this
[hook:]
We used to sit over there
That was your favorite chair
But now I sit here alone
No use crying bout it,
Ill have to do without it
And no I wont sit by the phone
[bridge:]
Oooo its not like you did me right
I was just comfortable and used to you
Now I see, I must first love me
And maybe mr. right will come strolling along
[hook]
song performed by by Vivian Green
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Old Blue Chair
There's a blue rockin' chair
Sittin' in the sand
Weathered by the storms
And well-oiled hands
It sways back and forth
With the help of the winds
And seems to always be there like an old trusted friend
I've read a lot of books
Wrote a few songs
Looked at my life where it's goin' where it's gone
I've seen the world through a bus winshield
But nothing compares
To the way that I see it
To the way that I see it
To the way that I see it when I sit in that Old Blue Chair
From that chair I've caught
A few fish and some rays
And I've watched boats sail
In and out of cinnamon bays
I let go of a lover
That took a piece of my heart
Prayed many times for forgiveness
And a brand new start
I've read a lot of books
Wrote a few songs
Looked at my life where it's goin' where it's gone
I've seen the world trough a bus winshield
But nothing compares
To the way that I see it
To the way that I see it
To the way that I see it when I sit in that Old Blue Chair
That chair was my bead one new year's night
When I passed out from too much
Malibu and Dye
And I woke up to a hundred mosquito bites I swear
Got em' all sittin' right there in that Old Blue Chair
There's a blue rockin' chair
Sittin' in the sands
Weathered by the storms
And well-oiled hands
song performed by by Kenny Chesney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Musical chair
Musical chair is not mine
I can not share the musical chair with others.
I never play with musical chair
I do not believe musical chair can be played.
I believe mine is mine
And yours is yours.
I can not take away your right
You can not take away mine.
The world is here, look
With a musical chair.
I am here and also you are.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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The Plain
I was alone with a chair on a plain
Which lost itself in an empty horizon.
The plain was flawlessly paved.
Nothing, absolutely nothing but the chair and I
were there.
The sky was forever blue,
No sun gave life to it.
An inscrutable, insensible light
illuminated the infinite plain.
To me this eternal day seemed to be projected --
artificially-- from a different sphere.
I was never sleepy nor hungry nor thirsty,
never hot nor cold.
Time was only an abstruse ghost
since nothing happened or changed.
In me Time still lived a little
This, mainly, thanks to the chair.
Because of my occupation with it
I did not completely
lose my sense of the past.
Now and then I'd hitch myself, as if I were a horse, to the chair
and trot around with it,
sometimes in circles,
and sometimes straight ahead.
I assume that I succeeded.
Whether I really succeeded I do not know
Since there was nothing in space
By which I could have checked my movements.
As I sat on the chair I pondered sadly, but not desperately,
Why the core of the world exuded such black light.
Me And My Old Cat Sam
I sit here all alone well
Me and my old cat Sam
Rocking back and fro
As my
Chair squeaks
As I rock
In front of the old fireplace
Just me and my old cat
Sam
Knitting mittens
Singing while my cat sam takes
A nap
I’m growing old
Still alone
Me and my old cat Sam and my
Old rocking chair
As the fireplace is cracking while
The
Red blue flames seem to cracker
And pop
As it
Burn so happily it seem's
My chair squeaks my cat nod as I
Rock
In my rocking chair back and fro
Cheerfully in front of my old
Fireplace
With red and blue flames highlighting
The wall and ceilings
Me and my old cat Sam as he nod’s
I rock back and fro
While my rocking chair squeaks along
With the fireplace cracker and
Popping..
poem by Carolyn Sears
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The Management of Grief
pick up a book,
put it down.
pick up a book,
put it down.
go outside.
sit in the red chair.
get up from the red chair.
sit in the grass.
pick the grass.
eat the grass.
throw the grass away,
sit on the steps.
pick up a rock.
scratch a circle
on a step
with the rock.
put the rock down.
sit in the red chair.
kick the red chair.
eat the red chair, eat the book.
poem by Mary Frances Farrow
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Rocking Bonnie
Bonnie and me in the rocking chair
Hours go by and we don't care
Time can come and go as it may
We'd sit in the chair and rock all day
Pachelbel Canon on the stereo
In time we rock back to and fro
The rocking chair making a creakedy squeak
Dreamy sounds that put her to sleep
She's in a heap across my chest
Comfy and cozy, peaceful, at rest
I kiss the top of her head and her hair
She smells like roses petals wafting on air
More time passes, she's still asleep
Laundry and dishes will have to keep
As soon as I stop she frets a bit
I'll just wear the rocker legs off of it
What's more important than times like these?
Before you know it, the years will flee
Well, time can come and go as it may
We'll sit in the chair and rock all day
Written by Sara Fielder © 2000
NOTE: This poem was written when my daughter Bonnie was a newborn.
poem by Sara Fielder
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So I was at the Actor's Studio, thinking about this, and I happened to glance over to the other side of the stage and I saw the ugliest chair I have ever seen. And I thought, 'Well, I could kill that chair!'
quote by Ellen Burstyn
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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