Turin
inviting
navigable
accessible
Via Lattea
Valle di Susa
Valle di Chesone
Baroque capital
stretch of River Po
snow-crusted Alps
The Shroud
Galleria Sabauda
Egyptian Museum
House of Savoy
Palazza Carignano
Balon flea market
The Zodiac Door
Sacra di San Michele
Sestriere, Winter Olympics
Castello di Rivolli
Museum of Automobile
Stupinigi, grand hunting lodge
stylish shops
spectacular cafes
wine, cheese, and gianduiotti
poem by Ahmad Shiddiqi
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The Museum of Nothing
Although the museum had nothing on exhibit...
The people not believing this,
Would still come in droves to visit.
They would stand in line to wait.
And pay their fee to gain entry.
And inquire, once inside...
Why was nothing there,
To sustain them with pride.
And from room to vacant room,
They walked behind the tour guide!
So the board of directors,
Decided to please them all.
And changed the name of the museum!
The museum was renamed,
The Museum of Nothing.
And people came in the Winter,
Spring, Summer and Fall.
And 'nothing' it was affectionately called.
Although the museum had nothing on exhibit...
The people not believing this,
Would still come in droves to visit.
They would stand in line to wait.
And pay their fee to gain entry.
Some adjusting to the nothingness.
While others stood for hours,
Just to stare as if in disbelief.
Addicted to anything said to them.
And clearly easy to deceive.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Museum Of Idiots
They built this whole neighborhood out of wood, out of wood.
I guess I'll still be around when they burn, burn it down.
I will be standing around when they burn it down.
Here in the Museum of Idiots.
Honey, I'm there when you need me, please believe me, please believe me.
I'll still be right where you left me, if you manage to forget me.
Where we met is where you may forget.
Here in the Museum of Idiots.
If you and I had any brains, we wouldn't be in this place.
Chop me up into pieces if it pleases, if it pleases.
And when the chopping is through, every piece will say, "I love you."
Every piece of me will say "I love you."
Here in the Museum of Idiots.
Every piece of me will say "I love you, you you"
Here in the Museum of Idiots.
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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visiting Hiroshima
1>Peace Memorial Museum.
two buildings
the museum surveys the history of Hiroshima
and the advent of the nuclear bomb.
main focus August 6; the dropping of the bomb
and its outcome in human suffering
personally it upset me
2.Cenotaph for the A-Bomb Victims
Between the Museum
and the A-Bomb Dome
an arched tomb
for those who died
because
initial blast
and then
of exposure to radiation
3. The Register
Below the arch is a stone chest
holding a register
of these names,
there
are over 220,000
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Endless Poem
In a modern museum
In an old synagogue
In the synagogue
I
Within me
My heart
Within my heart
A museum
Within a museum
A synagogue
Within it
I
Within me
My heart
Within my heart
A museum
poem by Yehuda Amichai
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St. Sebastian
Slender arrows,
pierce me through.
I wanted to forgive,
but too quickly
they flew.
My mind fades.
I rise to you.
**
ref: St. Sebastian, Andrea Mantegna 1456-59, Kunsthistorisches Museum
(viewed at the De Young Museum, San Francisco)
poem by Steven Federle
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0408 The Phoenix Museum
A sightseeing phoenix a sign espied:
'This way to the Phoenix Museum';
A little homesick, went inside;
Looked for friends; but couldn't see 'em.
In hindsight, the title's
Just a little rash;
The Phoenix Museum
Is now a pile of ash...
poem by Michael Shepherd
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The Edison Museum
The edison museum, not open to the public
Its haunted towers rise into the clouds above
Folks drive in from out of town
To gaze in amazement when they see it
Just outside the gate I look into the courtyard
Underneath the gathering thunderstorm
Through the iron bars, I see the black maria
Revolving slowly in its platform
In the topmost tower, the lights burn dim
A coiling filament glowing within
The edison museum, once a bustling factory
Today is but a darkened cobweb covered hive of industry
The tallest, widest and most famous haunted mansion in new jersey
Behind a wooden door, the voice of thomas alva
Recites a poem on a phonograph
Ghosts float up the stairs, like silent moving pictures
The loyal phantoms of his in house staff
A wondrous place it is, there can be no doubt
But no one ever goes in, and no one ever goes out
The edison museum, not open to the public
Its haunted towers rise into the clouds above it
The oldest, greatest and most famous haunted mansion in new jersey
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Keep The House A Little Darker
Keep the house a little darker
Let the curtains remain drawn-still
It is not right to leave the door open....
Wear your robe
And in the safest chamber of the house
Recall the unlearned prayer.....
He always enters
Through closed doors...
COPY WRITE©2009
poem by Romeo Della Valle
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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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Museum of Culture
Preserving the culture has been like the tusk of mastodons,
This is only suitable for preserving in the billiard balls,
Sustaining the culture has been like the extinct saber truth,
That is only suitable for experimental use.
Other customs are influencing on the real ones,
Like Mongols of east, east culture is ruling west,
And, as barbarians of west, west cultures have come to east,
So, preserving it has been a museum’s job.
In the show case of museum our tradition is seeing the change,
Youth are busy copying other’s tradition,
All are getting puzzled in culture,
Can’t we once again retain our own ethnicity?
The clear answer I hear is ‘no’.
Thanks to Museum of culture which is dong it.
poem by Sambidhan Acharya
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0029 Poet in a Wendy House
After death visited,
they opened the house
as a museum
it was easier than clearing it
but as
Health and Safety officials
were not happy, only one
at a time, perhaps two together,
were admitted
by appointment only
there were photos of course
and framed copies
of the better-known poems
some ageing better than others
a scratchy recording
a rather musty smell
a few years after I died
I went back to look
but the house and
its predominantly green writing room
and blue glass which
the sun peered dustily through
with the hideous 1930s fireplace
painted crudely over in 1960s taste in white
looked nothing to do with me
nor the photos
nor the poems
so I abandoned what I'd thought
a rather cute idea of
being a friendly ghost
in my own museum
it just hadn't come together
as a poem should
or a life
but I left the laughter and the joy
for those who could hear it
(For Wendy, a concrete image)
poem by Michael Shepherd
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The New-England Boy's Song About Thanksgiving Day
Over the river, and through the wood,
To grandfather's house we go;
The horse knows the way,
To carry the sleigh,
Through the white and drifted snow.
Over the river, and through the wood,
To grandfather's house away!
We would not stop
For doll or top,
For 't is Thanksgiving Day.
Over the river, and through the wood,
Oh, how the wind does blow!
It stings the toes,
And bites the nose,
As over the ground we go.
Over the river, and through the wood,
With a clear blue winter sky,
The dogs do bark,
And children hark,
As we go jingling by.
Over the river, and through the wood,
To have a first-rate play-
Hear the bells ring
Ting a ling ding,
Hurra for Thanksgiving Day!
Over the river, and through the wood-
No matter for winds that blow;
Or if we get
The sleigh upset,
Into a bank of snow.
Over the river, and through the wood,
To see little John and Ann;
We will kiss them all,
And play snow-ball,
And stay as long as we can.
Over the river, and through the wood,
Trot fast, my dapple grey!
Spring over the ground,
Like a hunting hound,
For 't is Thanksgiving Day!
Over the river, and through the wood,
And straight through the barn-yard gate;
We seem to go
Extremely slow,
It is so hard to wait.
Over the river, and through the wood-
Old Jowler hears our bells;
He shakes his pow,
With a loud bow wow,
And thus the news he tells.
Over the river, and through the wood-
When grandmother sees us come,
She will say, Oh dear,
The children are here,
Bring a pie for every one.
Over the river, and through the wood-
Now grandmother's cap I spy!
Hurra for the fun!
Is the pudding done?
Hurra for the pumpkin pie!
poem by Lydia Maria Francis Child
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Stompin' At The Savoy
LYRICS BY ANDY RAZAF
ADITIONNAL LYRICS BY BARRY MANILOW
MUSIC BY BENNY GOODMAN, CHICK WEBB AND EDGAR SAMPSON
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Lets go, ready or no
Lets take a chance
Lets go, ready or no
Come on lets dance
Gold from long ago
Savoy
The home of sweet romance
Savoy
It wins you at a glance
Savoy
Gives happy feet a chance to dance
Your form
Just like a clingin' vine
Your lips
So warm and sweet as wine
Your cheeks
So soft and close to mine
Divine
How my heart is singin'
While the band is swingin'
Never tired of rompin'
And stompin with you
At the Savoy
What joy - Tonights the night
A perfect holiday
Savoy - The mood is right
Where we can glide and sway
Savoy - What a delight
Where we can stomp away with you
Savoy - Stompin' Stompin'
Savoy - Stompin'
Savoy - Im stompin' at the Savoy, Savoy
Savoy - Stompin with you
Savoy The home of sweet romance
Savoy
It wins you at a glance
Savoy
Gives happy feet a chance to dance
Oh how my heart is singin' - You and I
While the band is swingin' - Glidin' by
Never tired of rompin' - How I love
And stompin with you - To dance
At the - Romance
Savoy - Lets dance
A perfect holiday - What a delight
Savoy - Romance
Where we can glide and sway - Into the night
Savoy - We'll be
There let me stomp away - Feelin' so right
Savoy - Baby you and me were gonna keep
Well keep on dancin' - On dancin'
What a joy
Savoy
YEAH!
song performed by by Barry Manilow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Beat Museum
I just went to the Beat Museum
These poets are obviously dead,
Sardonic, original, witty men,
Not fit for more than what they did.
I guess it's good they left something behind,
After all, most of the world needs some kind of sign,
How could we calculate variable pain,
Raising its head through motorcycle chain.
Strip joints surround the Beat Museum,
You get porno dust on your shoes as you arrive,
You can buy original copies of whatever they wrote,
And see a car, that looks like the car, Kerouac used to drive.
poem by Richard Jarboe
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Museum of Women Pilots
They were ladies with a task at hand
In an area unknown to most
Usually when it comes to flying
The women would only host
But this museum is dedicated to
The women who learned to fly
If you knew of their determination
You never would ask why
We all know about Amelia Earhart
But she was only one of many
Who knew in the core of their hearts
They had to make flying their journey
We honor them every single one
In a place where they have special slots
In history forever and ever
The museum of women pilots!
poem by Marilyn Lott
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Ode To Cheese
☺ .
Ode To Cheese,
Which Makes Us Smile,
When Camera's go Clack.
Ode To Cheese,
Which make us taste,
The greatest of flavors, the wackiest of whack.
Ode To Cheese,
Blue, Gorgonzola,
American and Cheddar.
Ode To Cheese,
Beja and Feta,
In all types of weather.
Ode To Cheese,
For those on a diet,
or trying to get fatter.
Ode To Cheese,
with crackers and wine,
with grapes can flatter.
Ode To Cheese,
when you're sad and happy,
Cheese just fits.
Ode To Cheese,
Mountains and Mountains,
or bits and bits.
Ode to the Cheese,
To appreciate,
eat,
and take pictures.
In North America.
Chicago, Milwaukee
Door County, Ra seen..
Get the great cities
Along the blanks of Michigan.
Museum..Sky scrappers..
These lights glow
Till oil is over.
In the Dael Illinois
Smell the evergreen
Underworld merchants
In India, Mumbai is the bird.
In America, it is another
Which is the image?
Which is the mirror image? ?
Snow-flux will drab
As the snow-fall begins
Come to Door County
To experience astonishing fall season.
Stand on the blanks of
Freaking Michigan
Knowledge mountain peaks are visible.
Connive.. With bards like skyscrapers.
-----
poem by Vinayak Adkoli
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Stompin At The Savoy
(1934) benny goodman, chick webb, edgar sampson, andy razaf
Savoy, the home of sweet romance,
Savoy, it wins you with a glance,
Savoy, gives happy feet a chance to dance.
Your old form just like a clinging vine,
Your lips so warm and sweet as wine,
Your cheek so soft and close to mine, divine.
How my heart is singing,
While the band is swinging,
Im never tired of romping,
And stomping with you at the savoy.
What joy - a perfect holiday,
Savoy, where we can glide and sway,
Savoy, let me stomp away with you;
The home of sweet romance,
It wins you at a glance,
Gives happy feet a chance to dance.
Just like a clinging vine,
So soft and sweet as wine,
So soft and close to mine, divine.
How my heart is singing,
While the band is swinging,
Im never, never, never tired of romping,
And stomping with you at the savoy.
What joy - a perfect holiday,
Savoy, where we can glide and sway,
Savoy, let me stomp away with you;
song performed by by Nina Simone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Keep Yourself Accessible
Did you dropp your smile?
Something is missing on your face.
And I know I haven't seen that in a while.
Did it hurt?
Have you deserted it,
To carry that frown?
Don't be down.
Keep yourself accessible.
Turn around.
Get rid of that frown.
Keep yourself accessible.
Don't dry up like a vegetable.
Or a grape reduced to a raisin juiced.
Showing you've been pruned,
From a plum someone had used!
Keep yourself accessible.
Turn around.
Get rid of that frown.
Invite more sun to come around.
Keep yourself accessible.
Become a fine wine...
That's been aged over time.
And decide in your mind...
The life you live welcomes Sunshine!
Keep yourself accessible.
With a spring in your step,
Bouncing in your prime.
Yes...
Keep yourself accessible.
Turn around.
Don't be down.
Keep yourself accessible.
And in your mind welcome Sunshine,
Today.
Hey...
And in your mind welcome Sunshine,
Today.
Hey...
And in your mind welcome Sunshine,
Today.
Hey...
Keep yourself accessible.
And in your mind welcome Sunshine,
Today.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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