moonlit attic
just the two of us
my dog and I
haiku by Chenou Liu

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attic window -
a few moonlit shadows
come and go
haiku by Chenou Liu

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Sweet Dream
I weave sweet dreams
of twinkling light
in moonlit night
I entwine a garland of stars
in moonlit night
I do all so
to embellish you to look
like a fairy queen
and cherish you in moonlit night
I do so all
to see you like second moon
for graceful moment in moonlit night
I weave sweet dreams
of my thoughts and
make a garland
to vesture you to look
like a fairy queen
The rapacity of moon
will increase to see your beauty
then I will cover you
like the cloud
in moonlit night
I will ask the moonlit night
not to leave us alone
and be with us
throughout life.
poem by Ramesh Rai

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I Do No Tours
Where
Do you get all of this 'stuff' from?
'From the attic'
From the attic?
But
I don't see any attic
'And you wont
I am the only one that has the key
And in my 'home'
I do no tours
I do guests
And no tours do those guests get.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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Children Shadows
Into the wind children voices echo’s
From near and far
Laughter of joy
Having fun in a large meadow
Linking to a empty space
The first rising of the moonlit
Night
The images of children within
The moonlit night
Vision of children playing
Around the old, old oak
Tree..
In the first rising of the moonlit
Night,
Vision of children playing within
The realms of shadows run.
In and out of the moonlit night
The children softly, softly fades
Into the night..
poem by Carolyn Sears

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A Light In The Attic
There's a light on in the attic.
Thought the house is dark and shuttered,
I can see a flickerin' flutter,
And I know what it's about.
There's a light on in the attic.
I can see it from the outside.
And I know you're on the inside... lookin' out.
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein

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Spectrum
Sometimes it comes on red: the animal
is angry and astonished, tasting blood,
or orange, like a sunset you can taste,
the light as rich as butter on your tongue,
or sometimes yellow: the attic's plastic ball
so sunny once, so sticky now with flyspecks.
It comes on green sometimes: you feel the plash
of frigid streams that feed the earliest ferns,
or blue: the moody sea that smells of brine
and octopus and moans against the shore,
and sometimes purple, like an embarrassed king
remembering incense in his moonlit room.
Sometimes an incandescent passion blends
the molten splinters into one blank ray.
poem by Jon Corelis

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Toys In The Attic
In the attic lies
Voices scream
Nothings seen
Reals a dream
Leaving the things that are real behind
Leaving the things that you love from mind
All of the things you learned from fears
Nothing is left for the years
Voices scream
Nothings seen
Reals a dream
(chorus)
Toys, toys, toys in the attic
Toys, toys, toys in the attic
Toys, toys, toys in the attic
Toys, toys, toys in the attic
In the attic lies
Voices scream
Nothings seen
Reals a dream
Leaving the things that are real behind
Leaving the things that you love from mind
All of the things you learned from fears
Nothing is left for the years
Voices scream
Nothings seen
Reals a dream
(repeat chorus) (yayayayayayayow!)
song performed by by Aerosmith

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Toys In The Attic
In the attic lies
Voices scream
Nothing's seen
Real's a dream
Leaving the things that are real behind
Leaving the things that you love from mind
All of the things you learned from fears
Nothing is left for the years
Voices scream
Nothing's seen
Real's a dream
(Chorus)
Toys, toys, Toys In The Attic
Toys, toys, Toys In The Attic
Toys, toys, Toys In The Attic
Toys, toys, Toys In The Attic
In the attic lies
Voices scream
Nothing's seen
Real's a dream
Leaving the things that are real behind
Leaving the things that you love from mind
All of the things you learned from fears
Nothing is left for the years
Voices scream
Nothing's seen
Real's a dream
(Repeat Chorus)
song performed by by Warrant

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Toys In The Attic
In the attic lies
Voices scream
Nothing's seen
Real's a dream
Leaving the things that are real behind
Leaving the things that you love from mind
All of the things you learned from fears
Nothing is left for the years
Voices scream
Nothing's seen
Real's a dream
(Chorus)
Toys, toys, Toys In The Attic
Toys, toys, Toys In The Attic
Toys, toys, Toys In The Attic
Toys, toys, Toys In The Attic
In the attic lies
Voices scream
Nothing's seen
Real's a dream
Leaving the things that are real behind
Leaving the things that you love from mind
All of the things you learned from fears
Nothing is left for the years
Voices scream
Nothing's seen
Real's a dream
(Repeat Chorus)
song performed by by Warrant

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Attic
'There's nobody in
But the light is on
And a chair just creaked,
Did you hear it, son?
There's been no chairs
For ever so long,
So who's abroad
In the attic, son? '
'That grim old lady
Who haunts the stairs
In a faded dress
With a world of cares,
Whenever I look
She disappears,
But lives in a world
That's drowned in tears.'
'They say she mutters
Beneath the moon
From the window there
In the month of June,
The light was out
In that ancient room
When she jumped from the window,
Into the gloom.'
'Why does she haunt
The attic, son,
If her soul took flight
When the moon was gone?
What is she trying
To tell us, son? '
'There's nobody in
But the light is on! '
26 October 2008
poem by David Lewis Paget

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For Him I Know Not
as he walked out
drops of moonlight
trickled down my limping back
the tear that dropped into my palm
too had the texture of moonlight
that he and i felt between our fingers
but when he left me
it's in shallow
ripples of moonlight
i found myself in
on every amavasya
i inadvertently bring
my fingers together...
on every moonlit night
i see him peeping through the moon...
in his absence
my dreams rise and
crash at the desolate
shores of my heart
like the waves on
a typical moonlit night
17apr2010
14.51hrs
poem by Indira Babbellapati

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Drivin Me To Drink
I need a drink cuz youre drivin me to drink
I need a drink cuz youre drivin me to drink
I need a drink cuz youre drivin me to drink
I need a drink cuz youre drivin me to drink
Its about to go down
When the remys in the system, it aint no tellin
What the other person sayin, theres too much yellin
Even though I know, that aint what I need
I cant take the naggin and the bitchin and the screamin
No matter what I do it just aint enough
You say I dont take you out and buy you stuff
But you got these thangs, provided by me
Somebody pass me the vsop
Chorus:
I need a drink cuz youre drivin me to drink
Two shots of attic and I aint even gotta think about
The way I dont do this
The way I dont do that
You might deserve a slap
But girl I cant go out like that
I need a drink cuz youre drivin me to drink
Two shots of attic and I aint even gotta think about
The way I dont do this
The way I dont do that
You might deserve a slap
But girl I cant go out like that
Come home from a long day
Instead of havin dinner ready
All you got is somethin to say
Goin on like I need that
Im doin all I can and you can keep that
Said I never met no girl like you
Ungrateful thats the truth
Always got a problem
Wont you tell me what Im supposed to do
Girl you got some issues
Straighten all that out baby
Or I wont kick it with you
Chorus:
I need a drink cuz youre drivin me to drink
Two shots of attic and I aint even gotta think about
The way I dont do this
The way I dont do that
You might deserve a slap
But girl I cant go out like that
I need a drink cuz youre drivin me to drink
Two shots of attic and I aint even gotta think about
The way I dont do this
The way I dont do that
You might deserve a slap
But girl I cant go out like that
Bridge:
Say you got me on that hen dog
Cuz Im tired of askin you whats wrong
And Im feeling kinda crazy
All I want is somethin - from my lady
Say you got me on that hen dog
Cuz Im tired of askin you whats wrong
And Im feeling kinda crazy
All I want is somethin - from my lady
Chorus:
I need a drink cuz youre drivin me to drink
Two shots of attic and I aint even gotta think about
The way I dont do this
The way I dont do that
You might deserve a slap
But girl I cant go out like that
song performed by by Jagged Edge

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet IV
Up at his attic sill the South wind came
And days of sun and storm but never peace.
Along the town's tumultuous arteries
He heard the heart-throbs of a sentient frame:
Each night the whistles in the bay, the same
Whirl of incessant wheels and clanging cars:
For smoke that half obscured, the circling stars
Burnt like his youth with but a sickly flame.
Up to his attic came the city cries --
The throes with which her iron sinews heave --
And yet forever behind prison doors
Welled in his heart and trembled in his eyes
The light that hangs on desert hills at eve
And tints the sea on solitary shores. . . .
poem by Alan Seeger

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Spasm entangled
spasm entangled soul seeking freedom
spasm entangled soul seeking soul
hollow hidden hurt earth ridden road
a moonlit daughter by moonlight measured
a moonlit daughter in earth clad pressured
hail la luna hail soothe my soul in pain
poem by Miroslava Odalovic

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Attic Key
When the transpiration of earliest dews
Failed to staid and invigorate
The amputated isthmus of the atrium
You would blithely shun
All the lovely, saccharine bones
Even the crunchy stride
Of the svelte V-formation
Of the veering migrating birds
Paving the soggy nimbuses
Of hapless shades and parasols
For they unfurl a reminder
Of capitulating abandonments
And like a wolf without a howl
You would aimlessly amble
With feet of morose
To cave inside, distraught,
In the clandestine dappled corners
Where the myriad of the dead
And the plenitude of dying breaths
Rattle uncouthly for
A greater hunger
And in the riving of hushed comport
Of the attic's remedy
You would sulk to descry
Your maudlin heart beating briskly
Sodden from the attrition
Of the charlatan sun
Amongst the trellises of cobwebs
And shoddy bed of dusts
You would lay your empathy
And the stagnant breathing
Of the attic's clockwork verve
Would feign an assuaging sweep
To resuscitate the prattling blood
Fervently seeping through
To clutch you closer
Like a bullet darting through
The place where no one knew
Divulging its own nadir
And that was all
That your bleeding needs
To find that you are
Not yet in the bottom
Of your so called pits
And the sun would again seethe
Grazing mellifluously
The bullets buried
To your aching lovely bones
And swear and spiel a promise
To purge the bleak attic
From its latticing derision
And let the light stray and stall
When the next morning dawn
But you always seem to forget
Where the promises coiled
Perhaps, you have crucified a script
In the scathing walls of the chambers
Of the pumping mechanical valves
That you need the fathoms
Of the attic's secrets
So you would stash
The attic key
Into the pathos
Of remorseful wisps
In cases
Of emergency.
poem by Norman Santos

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Toys In The Attic
So many years have passed me by
and so many toys in the attic lie.
Old rusty skates that used to glide,
I see them lyimg on their side.
A doll carriage, a wheel that's broken,
The doll that said 'Mama' now unspoken.
Coloring books all yellowed with age,
memories of 8 colors are on every page.
A kite assembled all by my dad,
the best kite a kid ever had.
A tricycle that mom and dad kept,
a remembered fall when I had wept.
Yo-yos and batty balls in a box,
and plenty of legos and wooden blocks.
So many toys from my childhood days
are in mama's attic that's like a maze.
They're everywhere I step, everywhere I look
but the best thing there is a pocketbook.
Mama filled it with pennies she saved for me
and they're better than all the toys I see.
See my books at stores.lulu.com/reizerj
poem by Edwina Reizer

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C.B.***2 Wit
..........................He's In The House........................
................ .....In The Attic Frozen Still.................
................Only Moves When He Has To...........
................Waiting To Get His Nasty Fill...........
...............I Hear Him From Time To Time........
............When The Cold Cracks His Base........
............And He Tries To Move His Arms.........
........................Just To Feel His Face.................
..And When We Are All In Bed Slumbering....
..........The Ghost-He Slinks Down The Stairs...
...............Pillages Our Kitchen For Food..............
..................Robbing Our Cupboards Bare................
.....................Some times He Leaves..........................
............. .......Out The Patio Door, He Goes...............
...................But Leaves The Stick Out In View..........
.........................Just To Let Us Know...........................
.............. ......Its Harder For Him Now...........................
.....As The Bay Door Is Tighter Than Leather..........
........But He Manages To Still Slink Around..............
.............To Meet With His Birds of A Feather............
.............Now I Carry A Very Large Stick.....................
................And An Even Meaner Knife And Gun..........
........MESSAGE TO THE GHOST IN THE ATTIC.....
...The Days Coming-When You Are Totally Done.....
poem by Theodora Onken

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There Is a Fanatic Clinging Onto a Madness
There is a fanatic clinging onto a madness...
As if no roof to a ceiling exists.
As if there is no attic through which hot air escapes.
This madness has been reached.
There is no wish for it to be replaced.
And those who have achieved it are pleased.
It seems to reflect,
A feeling of a rush that many have come to satiate.
There is a fanatic clinging onto a madness...
As if no roof to a ceiling exists.
As if there is no attic through which hot air escapes.
This madness has been reached.
There is no wish for it to be replaced.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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Tag, You're It
Let's assume
That he's the groom
And he's been waiting
To consummate all night
And you're the bride
You're locked tight
Inside the bathroom
And you're overcome with freight
Now here's the chiller
He's the killer
You've discovered
You're trapped, alone, you're scared
We cut to you, we move in close
You're catatonic
You get a close up there
And in this shot
Here's what we got
He breaks the door down
And tears your nightgown lace
You see a can, it's aerosol
You grab the hair spray
And light it in his face
There's a very hungry man in the cellar
Oh, waiting
Or is he in the attic closet
Waiting
Debbie? I like this game.
Debbie?
Debbie? Debbie? Debbie?
He blindly grabs you
Tries to stab you
But you're quicker
You over act right here
You see a cat, a ball of yarn
A knitting needle
His vision's still not clear
He's stumbling 'round
Don't make a sound
And then he grabs you
"Hide and seek, my dear?"
He shifts his glance
You see your chance
You grab the needle and you
You plunge it in his ear
There's a very hungry man in the cellar
Oh, waiting
Or is he in the attic closet
Waiting
There's a very hungry man in the cellar
Oh, waiting
Or is he in the attic closet
Waiting
And just like the scene
In "Halloween"
You think it's all over
And you're gazing into space
But you got to make sure
You hear something, you start to turn
And you're standing there frozen
Staring him face to face
And he looks at you and says
"Tag, you're it, Sweetie
Bye, Debbie. Debbie, Debbie, Debbie.
Goodbye, Debbie...
song performed by by Alice Cooper

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Amys In The Attic
Mr. piser, I think you should come up here
Amys in the attic and brain has gone ecstatic
Not another day of all the suffering and pain I was just a little boy ever so naive
Amy was my best friend, I never want to hurt her
I never wanna ever wanna think about her murder
On the playground, I chase her down the slide
I chase her cross the monkey bars and she would run and hide
Jinglin and tumbling, I pushed her off the sled
Amy coincidently hit her head
Dumbling inside my brain, down came the wade
Amy isnt answering, who would get the blame?
Amy isnt laughing, amy isnt crying
Amy isnt really breathing, God I think shes dying
Suddenly, the air is cold I must get her inside
Even though she died, amy has to hide
Nobody must ever know that I made amy sick
Lock her up forever in the attic
Maybe it is best to die, thinking did she really die
Im thinking if its really true then how come I am telling you
And if I really meant to do it, should I be a victim to
Should I walk the terror stairs, and savior all my
Terror fears, no
Mr. piser, I think you should come up here
Amys in the attic and my brain has gone ecstatic
Every day I suffer but eleven years have passed
How long will this keep and the nightmares last
Sitting in my living room, another strange feeling
I think Im hearing tiny footsteps on the ceiling
Looking in my mirror, the image isnt clear
I feel as if a little girl is standing at my rear and
Then I awake at the blink of an eye
Voices from the attic yellin, why?
What if amy wasnt dead living in the box
Banging on the walls, rattling the locks
Feeding on the roaches, rodents, and filth
And when theres nothing left, she feeds off herself
Why do I think in amy of this way?
She was once a lovely girl running out to play
Maybe its all a dream insane fanatic
Maybe theres no amy in the attic after all
Maybe it is best to die, thinking did she really die
Im thinking if its really true then how come I am telling you
And if I really meant to do it, should I be a victim to
Should I walk the terror stairs, and savior all my
Terror fears, no
Mr. piser, I think you should come up here
Amys in the attic and my brain has gone ecstatic
Maybe it is best to die, thinking did she really die
Im thinking if its really true then how come I am telling you
And if I really meant to do it, should I be a victim to
Should I walk the terror stairs, and savior all my
Terror fears, no
Amy isnt dead...
Amys in the attic and my brain has gone ecstatic
Barrels to my nugget semi glock automatic
Should I pull the trigger, would this break the chains
That keeps amy locked in my brain
No, I must be starting to pray that I wont
I pray its just a figment, to see this carry on too long
Amy isnt dead, I never knew an amy
I was just a boy, how can you blame me?
Maybe thats okay, but shes tapping at the walls
I see a darling little girl is floating down the hall
Slowly coming toward me, her arms are spreading wide
Opens up her mouth to show the maggots inside
Crying, whining, rotting is the feeling
Tiny drips of blood crowning from the ceiling
Landing on my head, Im psycho-sick Ive finally had it
Amy, know Im coming to the attic!!!!
Maybe it is best to die, thinking did she really die
Im thinking if its really true then how come I am telling you
And if I really meant to do it, should I be a victim to
Should I walk the terror stairs, and savior all my terror fears, yes
Mr. piser, I think you should come up here
Amys in the attic and my brain has gone ecstatic
Maybe it is best to die, thinking did she really die
Im thinking if its really true then how come I am telling you
And if I really meant to do it, should I be a victim to
Should I walk the terror stairs, and savior all my terror fears, no
song performed by by Insane Clown Posse

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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