The Vanishing Children
All over the yard, I’ve placed my
Guns in the snow:
My mother is drying the laundry in the clustering
Aloe,
And Alma is somewhere close to here,
Gossiping to conquistadors while the
Airplanes fly so low to listen;
And the television breaks the news, and the
Kidnappers don’t look so bad:
So soon it will be Christmas, which makes all of
The vanishing children very, very glad.
poem by Bret R. Crabrooke

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The Laundry In The Clustering Aloe
All over the yard, I’ve placed my
Guns in the snow:
My mother is drying the laundry in the clustering
Aloe,
And Alma is somewhere close to here,
Gossiping to conquistadors while the
Airplanes fly so low to listen;
And the television breaks the news, and the
Kidnappers don’t look so bad:
So soon it will be Christmas, which makes all of
The vanishing children very, very glad.
poem by Bret R. Crabrooke

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Airplan
Airplanes, airplanes fly through the sky with amazing speeds they fly, look out the window
At little world below it's amazing.Airplanes, airplanes look at them fly, they fly through
They clouds and wind. Some fly to London and some to war carrying survival supplies for
Their country. Some may die so others will survive.
Airplanes, airplanes aren't they amazing they help us every day and night.
Airplanes, airplanes so bird like in their manner.
poem by Elizabeth Wheaton

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The Airplanes Coming Indoors
Then there is a womb opened in a new
Holiday,
Bright with her children and blind snow storms:
All of the wolves make a surplus
Around the orchard of her
Little house,
And the snakes hang down from their
Christmas trees,
Tired from their gossiping,
And her father’s car, and her husband’s car
Wait outside—
The day is equally beautiful, and she lays brown-
Eyed with her children
And never has to worry about the airplanes
Coming indoors.
poem by Bret R. Crabrooke

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Song Of The Evergreens
Listen to the briskly whistling winter evergreen
Whispering through the frozen morning light
And tell me whats to come
Saying my time is near
Never fear
I close each year
Im winter
Reminding me to trade my t-shirts for my woven wools
Trade my sandals for my skis
Whispered warnings in the wind
Saying soon come the dancing snowflakes
Theyre kissing every tree
Theyre kissing you and me
Please hurry
Falling
Dazzling dancing diamonds from the sky
Prisms
Rainbow sparkled flurries in our eyes
Whipping across the frozen crystal meadow
Pond of ice
Race the snow
Well build a warming fire there
And cuddle close and wine and dine
The setting sun
The morning light will find us high
Shooting down the glistening mountain side
Screaming through the whispering pines
The freedom of each day
Will cleanse our minds
I can hardly wait for winter
I can hardly wait for the snow
I can hardly hardly wait for winter
I can hardly wait for the snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
song performed by by Chicago

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Little Guns
Tiny people, with little guns
Little armies march, to little drums
What do they want?
What do they want?
Tiny soldiers, with little guns
Little tanks, no bigger than your thumb
They want you
Little people, with tiny brains
Little bullets flowing, in their veins
What do they want?
What do they want?
Tiny people with little guns
Little armies march, to little drums
They want you, you
You, you, you, you
Little airplanes, with tiny bombs
Little squadrons, dropping thimbles of napalm
They want you
What do they want?
What do they want?
Tiny people, with little guns
Little armies march, to little drums
You, you
You, you, you, you
Tiny people, little guns
Tiny people, little guns
Tiny people, little guns
song performed by by Oingo Boingo

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Take Our Snow Please
As out the window,
I look, more snow today,
have only one thing to say,
take our snow please.
Six week-ends straight,
snow, snow every where,
have only one thing to say,
take our snow please, today.
So much snow, so much cold,
snow in the streets, snow in the yard,
snow on the car, snow on my shoe,
have only one thing to say,
take our snow please, we don't know what to do.
Winter, oh winter please end,
all of this snow, we don't really want it,
snow falling, flakes dropping
have only one thing to say,
take our snow please, don't delay.
That Illusion
The night weeps its sentiment to us all, but oh how
Many lines have begun like that:
And I wish I could be more original for you;
And now I want to walk to your house again:
I want to be a flag on your body rippling and casting for gold,
Because now haven’t I seen you captivated high up in the clouds
In a house of giants:
Isn’t it a white man’s house: even further, isn’t it my house,
Alma:
I want to find you and stretch you out and ask your where your beautiful
Belt has gone,
And to which knight you gave it to, to save his neck:
I know you gave it to one knight on his lunch break, but to which
One I am uncertain,
But I want to be your king just so I can have the authority to find these
Things out,
And to feed my life-giving poultry to your children:
Alma, I dream of you walking your children to the bus stop,
And I dream of you walking through cut out snowflakes and paper airplanes:
I dream of you always on the move, Alma, because your body gives off
That illusion while it smokes and sweats my dreams.
poem by Bret R. Crabrooke

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Sappy
And if you say your prayers
You will make God happy
And if you do whats true
You will make me happy
Ill keep you in a jar
And you will seem happy
Ill give you breathing holes
You will think youre happy, now
Youre in a laundry room
Youre in a laundry room
Youre in a laundry room
And if you save yourself
You will make him happy
Hell bring you fine rewards
Then you will feel happy
Ill keep you in my room
Im sure youll be happy
And if you save your soul
You will think youre happy now
Youre in a laundry room
Youre in a laundry room
Youre in a laundry room
Youre in a laundry room
Early version of sappy.
song performed by by Nirvana

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tomorrow is the laundry day
Tomorrow is the laundry day
Though tomorrow’s bright and sunshine strikes
Seduce you to play outside
But duty must be priority
Washing the dirty to be clean again
And your day will feel light
After you do that
Tomorrow is the laundry day
Though tomorrow’s cloudy and can’t stop rainy
Bother you with damp laundry
But duty is duty
Washing the dirty so it won’t be stinky
And your day will be bright
After you do that
Tomorrow is the laundry day
Though your laundry is already loaded
And you don’t want to see or touch
But duty must be completed
Washing the dirty so it ready to be used
And your day will feel more comfortable
After you do that
Tomorrow is the laundry day
Though your heart grumbles “Later”
No, do not listen that lazy one
Duty is to be worked not be grouch
Washing is a fun job if your heart happy
And your day will be victory
After you do that
poem by Maria Sudibyo

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The Seven Seas
Spindling ablutions,
The catastrophe of the weathers above the ways
Out in the make-believe of an ultimately beautiful day:
The frenzy of kites stolen away from
Little boys,
Who know so few words as never as yet to have
Surrendered to the loquacious avenues that birth the
Fraternity of sea horses:
Poppy seeds in the air, making an illusionary breakfast,
Cantankerously up from their low birth,
Gossiping their tranquilities over the low flying airplanes,
And their majesties:
Demigods who float on the breeze, in a woebegone
And yet innumerable sisterhood all over the seven seas.
poem by Bret R. Crabrooke

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The Fence
Around my yard there stands a fence
It keeps the outside world out and I safe within
Though the structure is not that immense
It does the purpose as which it was built for and meant.
Neighbors and strangers it keeps out of my yard
Along with their trash and pets which does it harm
I am my yards protector, landscaper and guard
As it is my beauty, and not a trash bin or someone's farm.
My fence allows and welcomes the sunshine and the wind
Mother nature is always welcomed to visit and roam
The squirrels and the birds are always welcomed in
And welcome are the bee's with the pollen they've sewn.
Around my yard there stands a fence
It protects my yard from the enemies about
Too me it makes such perfect sense
Better to stop the entering, than for me to scream and shout.
As my yard is not the playground for a child to use
Or a shortcut for many persons to walk or run
As it it my yard which I won't neglect or abuse
And the work that I do on it, it will never be done.
In the summertime there will be plants to raise
And the leaves to rake when it becomes the fall
While hoping mother nature with me will always stay
And because of my fence, it will protect it all.
Around my yard there stands a fence
It protects and guards my yard everyday of the year
To others though it might cause an offense
As though it tells the people, not to come over here.
It is my yard which is mine to raise it like a child
To cut it and groom it and keep it nice for all to see
But truly it is GOD'S acre, which I saved from the wild
Then through the wonder of nature, in life I do believe.
So as days will come you will see myself in my yard
And sometimes you might see me nervous and tense
I hate clutter and trash so from there it is always barred
Also to protect my yard and myself, is my mighty fence.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave

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What a mother should be
A mother is the one who loves you
A mother puts no drug above you
A mother will never make you cry
A mother will never make you want to die
A mother will help you fight your fears
A mother will help you stop your tears
A mother will keep you safe and sound
A mother will never let you down
A mother will daily say I love you
A mother won’t say I hate you
A mother won’t wish you were dead
A mother won’t forget what you said
A mother won’t close the door
A mother won’t let you be poor
Now I ask you, do you have a mother?
Cause’ I don’t, so don’t bother.
poem by Carlisa Smith

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Dirty Laundry
I make my living off the Evening News
Just give me something-something I can use
People love it when you lose,
They love dirty laundry
Well, I coulda been an actor, but I wound up here
I just have to look good, I don't have to be clear
Come and whisper in my ear
Give us dirty laundry
Kick 'em when they're up
Kick 'em when they're down
Kick 'em when they're up
Kick 'em when they're down
Kick 'em when they're up
Kick 'em when they're down
Kick 'em when they're up
Kick 'em all around
We got the bubble-headed-bleach-blonde who
comes on at five
She can tell you 'bout the plane crash with a gleam
in her eye
It's interesting when people die-
Give us dirty laundry
Can we film the operation?
Is the heir dead yet?
You know, the boys in the newsroom got a running bet
Get the widow on the set!
We need dirty laundry
Kick 'em when they're up
Kick 'em when they're down
Kick 'em when they're up
Kick 'em when they're down
Kick 'em when they're up
Kick 'em when they're down
Kick 'em when they're stiff
Kick 'em all around
Dirty little secrets
Dirty little lies
We got our dirty little fingers in everybody's pie
We love to cut you down to size
We love dirty laundry
We can do "The Innuendo"
We can dance and sing
When it's said and done we haven't told you a thing
We all know that Crap is King
Give us dirty laundry!
song performed by by Lisa Marie Presley

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I don't remember my mother ever playing with me. And she was a perfectly good mother. But she had to do the laundry and clean the house and do the grocery shopping.
quote by Patricia Heaton

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Chattering
Clucking, clucking goes the hen
Across the barnyard again and again
With worthless chatter, as that hen gets fatter
Clucking about what or even who knows when.
But soon no more clucking will be heard,
As on my dinner plate I will serve that bird.
Gossiping, gossiping goes the wife
Another facet of her busy life
Telling her stories, about men, women, girls and boys
Bullying, infidelity and physical abuse is also rife.
But one day though all of her gossiping will end,
When she loses her husband and she has not a friend.
Squeak, Squeak goes the mouse
As it darts in and out and about the house
Throughout the day, food is its only prey
Ends up frightening myself and the spouse.
But soon enough mousie it will find its bread,
As it will be in the trap and it will be dead.
poem by Randy McClave

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Para Qu
Para qu las joyas
que cubren tu cuerpo?
Para qu el dinero
de cien aos de trabajo?
Para qu la fama
de los intocables?
Para qu las falsas caras
de lo cotidiano?
Para qu?
Para qu?
Para qu?
Para qu?
Para qu los lentes
que cubren tus ojos?
Para qu el cansancio
de cien aos de trabajo?
Para qu matarse
por las apariencias?
Para qu dejar
que nos acabe la violencia?
Para qu?
Para qu?
Para qu?
Para qu?
Para qu?
Para qu?
Para qu?
Para qu?
si a la tumba
no se lleva
ni el dinero
ni el poder.
si a la tumba
no se lleva
ni el dinero
ni el poder.
Slo lo que en el alma queda.
Slo lo que en el alma queda.
Slo lo que en el alma queda.
Slo lo que en el alma queda.
si a la tumba
no se lleva
ni el dinero
ni el poder.
si a la tumba
no se lleva
ni el dinero
ni el poder.
Slo lo que en el alma queda.
Slo lo que en el alma queda.
Slo lo que en el alma queda.
Slo lo que en el alma queda.
song performed by by Juanes

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Alma Desnuda
SOY un alma desnuda en estos versos,
Alma desnuda que angustiada y sola
Va dejando sus pétalos dispersos.
Alma que puede ser una amapola,
Que puede ser un lirio, una violeta,
Un peñasco, una selva y una ola.
Alma que como el viento vaga inquieta
Y ruge cuando está sobre los mares,
Y duerme dulcemente en una grieta.
Alma que adora sobre sus altares,
Dioses que no se bajan a cegarla;
Alma que no conoce valladares.
Alma que fuera fácil dominarla
Con sólo un corazón que se partiera
Para en su sangre cálida regarla.
Alma que cuando está en la primavera
Dice al inviemo que demora: vuelve,
Caiga tu nieve sobre la pradera.
Alma que cuando nieva se disuelve
En tristezas, clamando por las rosas
Con que la primavera nos envuelve.
Alma que a ratos suelta mariposas
A campo abierto, sin fijar distancia,
Y les dice libad sobre las cosas.
Alma que ha de morir de una fragancia,
De un suspiro, de un verso en que se ruega,
Sin perder, a poderlo, su elegancia.
Alma que nada sabe y todo niega
Y negando lo bueno el bien propicia
Porque es negando como más se entrega,
Alma que suele haber como delicia
Palpar las almas, despreciar la huella,
Y sentir en la mano una caricia.
Alma que siempre disconforme de ella,
Como los vientos vaga, corre y gira;
Alma que sangra y sin cesar delira
Por ser el buque en marcha de la estrella.
poem by Alfonsina Storni

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Buried Between two Trees
Back home again
in the yard
I used to play in
So many memories here
of days long ago
for memories, I hold dear
Saw the grave of old shep
the dog I loved so
in this yard, he followed me every step
He's buried between two trees you see
buried him in my brand new quilt
and my mother was really mad at me
In this yard, I would bathe him
many years before
his old eyes grew dim
His bed layed by the cellar door
with tall trees, all around him
oh memories, of the dog I adored
Memories of the time
that the meter man came
he hit old shep, that wasn't very kind
This old yard, was all shep had
he guarded it with his life
when he died, I was very sad
This old yard, now has in it,
a lot of beautiful flowers, all round
between two trees, he wouldn't mind a bit.
Dirty Laundry
I make my living off the evening news
Just give me something-something I can use
People love it when you lose,
They love dirty laundry
Well, I coulda been an actor, but I wound up here
I just have to look good, I dont have to be clear
Come and whisper in my ear
Give us dirty laundry
Kick em when theyre up
Kick em when theyre down
Kick em when theyre up
Kick em when theyre down
Kick em when theyre up
Kick em when theyre down
Kick em when theyre up
Kick em all around
We got the bubble-headed-bleach-blonde who
Comes on at five
She can tell you bout the plane crash with a gleam
In her eye
Its interesting when people die-
Give us dirty laundry
Can we film the operation?
Is the head dead yet?
You know, the boys in the newsroom got a
Running bet
Get the widow on the set!
We need dirty laundry
You dont really need to find out whats going on
You dont really want to know just how far its gone
Just leave well enough alone
Eat your dirty laundry
Kick em when theyre up
Kick em when theyre down
Kick em when theyre up
Kick em when theyre down
Kick em when theyre up
Kick em when theyre down
Kick em when theyre stiff
Kick em all around
Dirty little secrets
Dirty little lies
We got our dirty little fingers in everybodys pie
We love to cut you down to size
We love dirty laundry
We can do the innuendo
We can dance and sing
When its said and done we havent told you a thing
We all know that crap is king
Give us dirty laundry!
song performed by by Don Henley

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Those Two Red Roses..
Roses..
White and yellow abound much
Grouping to match wayward
Red roses popping up the fences..
Two red
In special peering pretext
Piercing through the spikes..
Bruised fence adrift
Twenty days more
've been in bloom
Appearing to me gossiping..
've been watching and praying..
Such their charm shouldn't fade..
They continue their blooming..
Nay, gossiping..
Flanked by three more red
Alike out through the fence..
Gossiping going on and on bigger
Their hushing verbiage
I cannot grasp
But a solitary pink seemingly
Lonely in seclusion apprehensive
All about her I suppose
She droops her face down
Pale and petals off in drops..
I ready myself for a tiff
poem by Indira Renganathan

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