En.Citatepedia^®.ro

the stink of whiskey,
tired-eyed, angry, hard despair,
paint peels off the dream

haiku by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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But Don't Despair

Despair, if you must –
But how's it going to pull you through?
Despair, when you trust
Naught since then there's naught to do.
Despair, should you thrust
Aside your pride, your self-esteem.
And so despair, if it's dust,
The only substance that you deem.
Despair, when a gust
Of slightly breeze can break your stance.
And do despair, when lust
Is your interpretation of romance.

But don't despair, if you can care
About the plight of any other being.
And you can focus on the help,
Support, and altruistic further actions
For the seeing. Be believing,
As despair will start receding
All around – simply since you found
A way to steer you clear
From this: the very cause of your despair!

So give to others; give them all a helping lift:
Despair, you'll find will disappear –
And that has got to be a well-deserved
And saintly gift!

Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009

Rain of despair

despair despair despair despair despair despair despair
despair despair despair despair despair despair despair
despair despair despair despair despair despair despair
despair despair despair despair despair despair despair
despair despair despair despair despair despair despair
despair despair despair despair despair despair despair
despair despair despair despair despair despair despair

poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Whiskey And Jesus

He said, it's whiskey and Jesus
it's grandkids at the door
it's the woman lying speechless
she cant take it anymore
it's the roar of desperation
that sickens and devours
it's the stillness of alone
that turns minutes into hours
it's whiskey and Jesus

He said, it's whiskey and Jesus
it's the hoe in the field
the hawk circling overhead
dust on the windowsill
it's empty shelves in the pantry
callouses on his hands
it's nowhere to turn
the pride of a man...
it's whiskey and Jesus

He said, it's whiskey and Jesus
it's the lines 'neath his eyes
it's the tight lipped anger
that never questions why
it's the memories and ashes
of a thousand highway miles
the hard face of dignity
painted by the trials...
it's whiskey and Jesus...

poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Another Page Turned!

another page turned,
torn, and thrown
into the fire...
time passes.

angry people say angry things,
things they dont really mean...
not even sure who or what
they're angry at...

even when you walk quietly
behind the plow, storms come!
the paint on the wall peels,
but the wall remains...

dogs barking at the stray cat
in the rain... all the cat wants,
is in! we are no different...
none of us like the rain for too long!

we are a people lost,
on a journey we dont understand.
our minds cannot grasp
the infinite, cannot define...

that which we long for,
and cannot speak of...
for lack of better words,
we call it god, or truth.

and yet there's no more to life
than can be seen in a leaf,
in an acorn, in a pebble...
in a baby's tiny hand grasping.

so turn the page,
feed the fire...
the beat of a single sparrow's wing
holds my life, and my destiny!

poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sleepy- Eyed

Sleepy-eyed and tired,
your head is nodding now.
You've played so hard all day long.
I caress your brow.
The vigor of youth shows me the truth
that your dreams will probably bring
songs to sing
and happy things,
nothing to make you fret,
not like the dreams I get.

Sleepy-eyed and tired,
my head is nodding now.
I've worked so hard all day long.
No one caresses my brow.
Weary from age,
earning my wage
my dreams I will not remember.
For I'm dead to the world
like a dying ember,
sleeping my life away,
not like my child at play.

poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Indian Gin And Whisky Dry

All day, all night you feel as if the earth could fly.
Three more all for fine Indian Gin and whiskey dry,
Fine Indian Gin and whiskey dry.
Small town , closed down; There's nowhere else around to try.
Disturbingly a voice would cry,
"Go home, no loan, You'll have you gin and whiskey dry,
You'll have your gin and whiskey dry".
Four ten, four men lining up for their handy brandy.
All's gone, you're none, came the bartender's reply.
But I've tried and I'm tied to Indian Gin and whiskey dry.
To Indian Gin and whiskey dry (repeat 4 times

song performed by by Bee Gees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You Stink!

'You stink!
Don't you know you're out of tune,
And out of rhythm.
You stink!
Don't you know you're out of tune,
And out of rhythm.
You stink!
Don't you know you're out of tune,
And out of rhythm.
Way off the beat without a syncopation given.'

All I've ever wanted from you,
Was your trust.
Although my honesty shows,
Perhaps I trust too much.

Can't you see,
I'd rather be in sync with you desperately.
But you think I should first prove,
My devotion is complete...
With a soothing approving beat you seek!

'You stink!
Don't you know you're out of tune,
And out of rhythm.
You stink!
Don't you know you're out of tune,
And out of rhythm.
You stink!
Don't you know you're out of tune,
And out of rhythm.
Way off the beat without a syncopation given.'

'You stink! '
I know this but I came without a motive.
'You stink! '
I know this but I came without a motive.
'You stink! '
I know this but I came without a motive.
'You stink!
You stink.
You stink.
You stink! '

'You stink! '
I know this but I came without a motive.
'You stink! '
I know this but I came without a motive.
'You stink! '
I know this but I came without a motive.
'You stink!
You stink.
You stink.
You stink! '

Can't you see,
I'd rather be in sync with you desperately.
But you think I should first prove,
My devotion is complete...
With a soothing approving beat you seek!

'You stink!
Don't you know you're out of tune,
And out of rhythm.
You stink!
Don't you know you're out of tune,
And out of rhythm.
You stink!
Don't you know you're out of tune,
And out of rhythm.
Way off the beat without a syncopation given.'

I get the message!
You have preferences.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dumping Many Buckets

A building done,
With no retraint...
Peels the paint.
And cracks the stairs.

And those staring in despair,
Are not there to tile the roof.
When all moved in...
Everything 'appeared'...
To glisten with gloss and be good as new.

Now they are inside,
Dumping out the buckets...
From a dripping done,
Through the roof.

Yes...
Now they're inside,
Dumping many buckets...
With the hope their home stays status proof!

Nobody cares about repairs!
No one aware of repairs is prepared.

And those staring in despair,
Are not there to tile the roof.
When all moved in...
Everything 'appeared'...
To glisten with gloss and be good as new.

A building done,
With no retraint...
Peels the paint.
And cracks the stairs.

Nobody cares about repairs!
No one aware of repairs is prepared.

Now they're inside,
Dumping out the buckets...
From a dripping done,
Through the roof.

Yes...
Now they're inside,
Dumping many buckets...
With the hope their home stays status proof!

Now they're inside,
Dumping many buckets...
With the hope their home stays status proof!

And with a crying sigh,
Dumping many buckets...
With the hope their home stays status proof!

No one has driven by,
Watching them dump buckets...
And pretending there's no leaking from their roof

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I'm Tired Of It All

I am tired of it all
I am tired of today
I am tired of the summer heat-
I am tired of all the years of trying to be something
And still being nothing and no one
I am tired of myself and my ambition
I am tired of reading the great poems of others
I am tired of Poetry
I am tired of being old
I am tired of no longer having the means to help those I care for-
I am tired of having written for so many years
And having so little to show for it-
I am tired of being an old man getting older -
I am tired of being afraid of what is going to happen to me
And those close to me
I am tired of having so many sick friends-
I am tired of having more and more people I have known who are dead
I am tired of a world in which violence and stupidity play such a great part
I am tired of all the problems that should have been solved years ago
And yet persist-
I am tired of cruelty
I am tired of rudeness and petty selfishness
I am tired of seeing the evil get away with it
I am tired truly tired
Tired of being tired also
Tired of myself and my complaints-
And my failure all these years
To make things right-

And yet and yet with all the tiredness
I know there is so much else even in myself-
I still want to live and dream and hope and help those I love
I still want to write still a few lines of poetry
that will be read by others
And help them
Dream to begin again
I still want to give to those I love
The little I still have to give
I still want to live
For life itself is life itself is still good
Despite the tiredness.

poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Indian Gin & Whiskey Dry

All day, all night you feel as if the earth could fly.
Three more all for fine indian gin and whiskey dry,
Fine indian gin and whiskey dry.
Small town , closed down; theres nowhere else around to try.
Disturbingly a voice would cry,
Go home, no loan, youll have you gin and whiskey dry,
Youll have your gin and whiskey dry.
Four ten, four men lining up for their handy brandy.
Alls gone, youre none, came the bartenders reply.
But Ive tried and Im tied to indian gin and whiskey dry.
To indian gin and whiskey dry (repeat 4 times)

song performed by by Bee Gees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tired Of Being Blonde

(l. raspberry)
She left the credit cards under her goodbye note
all of these are yours, goodbye? and that was all she wrote
Keys to the porsche she dropped on the floor in the den
Left in the ? 0 dodge that he drove her in
She wasnt angry, she wasnt sad
She was just leaving a life that a lot of women wish they had
Tired of being blonde
Tired of running around with the usual guys and gals
Tired of being blonde
Tired of living up to all he expected
Tired of being blonde
Tired of living a life that had only been planned by one
Tired of being blonde
Tired of letting her dreams go neglected
She used to love to know she rounded out his world
She used to love to be all he ever loved in a girl
He liked to buy her clothes that made her sexy and cute
Guess she decided shed been too long away from her roots
She wasnt crazy, she wasnt mad
She just knew in her heart they had drained her of all that she had
Tired of being blonde
Tired of all the platinum frustration
Tired of being blonde
Tired of looking like a cutie on the cover of a magazine
Tired of being blonde
Tired of chasing all the latest sensations
She wasnt angry, no, no, she wasnt sad
She was just leaving a life that a lot of women wish they had
She was tired of being blonde
Tired of living a life that had only been planned by one
Tired of being blonde
Tired of coping with the desperation
Tired of being blonde
Tired of fighting back the feeling inside that told her to run
Tired of being blonde
Tired of hiding her own inclinations

song performed by by Carly Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Holiness Stripped Naked!

the stink, homeless man,
five days same clothes,
no way to bathe...
vomit crusted hunger,
piss, and garbage rolled.....

the perfume of God.

angry, bruised, scared,
face hollow, lips tremble....
love's fists, used, abused,
she walks the corner, alone....

the daughter of God.

crack pipe, stolen gun,
fear rush, dead despair,
concrete jungle, wrong color,
wrong place, wrong time,
prison bound, unmarked grave,
mother cries, justice lies....

the son of God.

stolen tent, hard rain,
under the bridge, under scope,
no work, no food, babies cry,
mothers tears, hard stare,
small fire, past the edge,
old car, out of gas....

the family of God.

poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sleeping To Dream (Live @ Java Joes - 06.27.02)

words by jason mraz
music by jason mraz & peter stuart
I'm dreaming of sleeping next to you I'm feeling like a lost little boy in a brand new town
I'm counting my sheep and each one that passes is another dream to ashes
and they all fall down.
As I lay me down tonight,
I close my eyes and what a beautiful sight
I'm sleeping to dream about you
I'm so tired of having to live without you
So I'm sleeping to dream about you and I'm so tired
I found myself in the riches (Your eyes, your lips, your hair.) Well you were everywhere
But I woke up in the ditches. I hit the light and I thought you might be here
but you were nowhere. You were nowhere at home.
As I lay me back to sleep
Lord I pray that I can keep
Sleeping to dream about you
I'm so tired of having to live without you
So I'm sleeping to dream about you and I'm so tired
(It's just a little a lullaby to keep myself from crying myself to sleep at night.)
Sleeping to dream about you
I'm so tired of having to live without you
So I'm sleeping to dream about you and I'm so tired

song performed by by Jason Mraz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dream Images

if I painted pictures
I would paint dream images
I would paint visions of inner mind's eye
I would paint life in veils swirling kaleidoscopic moods
I would paint canvasses imprinting fabric expanding universes

poem by Terence George Craddock
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I am (emotion)

I am tired
tired of the walls closed around me
tired of blindness when I wish to see
I am scared
scared of the love that will never come
scared of where the darkness is from
I am angry
angry at truths that are perceived wrong
angry at the uselessness of a happy song
I am sad
sad for those left behind
sad for the happiness they cannot find
I am confused
confused with the madness of this world
confused with the life into which I'm hurled
I am helpless
helpless to keep my innocence
helpless of it to make any sense
I am dead
dead to the world around me
dead to the people, who refuse see

poem by Glaedr the poet
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Angry Eyes

Time, time and again I see you staring down at me
Now, then and again I wonder what it is that you see
With those angry eyes
Well, I bet you wish you could cut me down
With those angry eyes
You want to believe that I am not the same as you
And now I cant conceive, oh lord, of what it is youre trying to do
With those angry eyes
Well, I bet you wish you could cut me down
With those angry eyes
What a shot you could be if you could shoot at me
With those angry eyes
You and I must start to realize
Blindness binds us in a false disguise
Can you see me through those angry eyes?
You try to defend that you are not the one to blame
But Im finding it hard, my friend, when I m in the deadly aim
Of those angry eyes
Well, I bet you wish you could cut me down
With those angry eyes
What a shot you could be if you could shoot at me
With those angry eyes

song performed by by Kenny Loggins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Despair Of The Early Morning

DESPAIR OF THE EARLY MORNING

Despair of the early morning
Despair of the darkness
Despair of the Despair
Despair of Old Age
Despair of the road closed
Despair of nothing to do
Despair of nowhere to go
Despair of endless errands
Despair of money running out
Despair of the message of Despair
One transmits to those one loves.

Despair that has to be resisted
Despair that the light of the day
Will help me overcome
Despair I will pray my way out of
Despair I will in the course of the day
Sometime overcome.

Not the great Despair
The unending Despair
The final Despair.

The small Despair of who I am and where I am now.
The Despair that still can be resisted,
By the writing of a few awkward lines
Early in the morning.

poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lace And Whiskey

I find myself running in circles
Lost and half insane
And I need a cure sometimes
To knock out the pain
So I yell out for some kind of angel
To come down and rescue me
Be as soft as you can
Put a drink in my hand
I'm as scared as I ever could be
Gimme lace and whiskey
Mamas home remedy
Double indemnity
Fills me with ecstasy
La-aa-aace and whiskey
Lots of things I really want here
Lots of things I really need
There's an animal soul inside
That I've gotta feed
The hot mama living above me
Always gets a rise from me
She's so soft in my hands
I give her all she can stand
Make a full fledged man outta me
Gimme lace and whiskey
Mamas home remedy
Double indemnity
Fills me with ecstasy
La-aa-ace and whiskey
La-aa-ace and whiskey
I ain't hard assed
So babe don't make me mean
I want a hot place
To go and show you things
Gimme lace and whiskey
Mamas home remedy
Double indemnity
Fills me with ecstasy
La-aa-ace and whiskey
I'll end up a broken old hobo
With red and yellow eyes
Swear' and drunk and dyin'
But no ones surprised
That's a long long way from today babe
As far as I can see
So shake off your shoes
Go and get me my booze
Lay your love and your laces on me
Gimme lace and whiskey
Mamas home remedy
Double indemnity
Fills me with ecstasy
La-aa-ace and whiskey
La-aa-ace and whiskey
La-aa-ace and whiskey
La-aa-ace and whiskey

song performed by by Alice Cooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It's Hard to Dream When...

It's hard to dream when,
You came without calling
With me not expecting
It's hard to dream 'coz,
It makes me confuse,
Feels Im the muse
And you're my prince charming
It's hard to dream when,
Even it's not your name
You always come
And interrupt my dream
It's hard to dream 'coz,
It's not you I want to dream
But
Maybe it's my brain
Who wants to think
Of somebody who loves color green.^^

(Originally Written on Oct.28,2007)

poem by Aez NewHeller
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A dammed sight

A dammed sight
~
I’m growing old
My eyes failing
Still I see the underbelly
That dark side of man
I know its smell
That stink we hide from
I hear it everyday
Lies and betrayal
Backstabbing stories
Made to protect and attack
I’m growing old
My minds fleeting
But still I know
Still I remember
The hard lesson learnt
Those that beat me
Left me whimpering
Like a little child
Fail and scared
My skin should be tough
Hard like a rhinos
But it’s soft, still
Easily cut
There are years ahead of me
Years of lies, stories
Being hurt and cut
Watching the world
With worn out tired eyes
Fighting quietly
Not making much sound
I’m growing old
Too old I feel at times
To be knowing this
And to be seeing that
I know and I see
I’ve heard and I remember
The stink in the underbelly
The dark side of man
It carries on daily
Weekly, yearly
And still I see it
Still I see it

poem by Matthew Holloway
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Paint Me Down

Paint me down
Paint me down
Paint me down
Im walking into studio
Consider strange appeal
Paint me in the home
Im brushing up on sketchbook
Designs for love unreal
Paint me in the home
Oil and skin youll need to buy it
Consider what I mean
She sinks beneath thr moving pictures
Prepare the brush for me
Im craving with this need
Paint me down
Paint me down
Paint me down
Im soaking up the surface
Conceaiving new idea
Paint me in the home
Shes oiling up her subject
But all still life is here
Paint me in the home
All the boys with framed dimension
A cover up on lust
Hell take his pain and paint it over
Prepare the brush for me
Im craving with this need
Paint me down
Paint me down
Paint me down

song performed by by Spandau Ballet
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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