Pseudo Silk Kimono
(fish / marillion)
Huddled in the safety of a pseudo silk kimono wearing bracelets of smoke
Naked of understanding
Nicotine smears, long, long dried tears, invisible tears
Safe in my own words, learning from my own words
Cruel joke, cruel joke
Huddled in the safety of a pseudo silk kimono a morning mare rides
In the starless shutters of my eyes
The spirit of a misplaced childhood is rising to speak his mind
To this orphan of heartbreak, disillusioned and scarred
A refugee, refugee
song performed by by Marillion
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Safe Arrival
Your hair in the wind
Your tears dried
Understanding has no sermons
Welcome back my darling
Words like warm quilts
Quiet words that heal
That old crippled road gone
See the pines in the morning sun?
Smoke from the cabins
Winding roads and home
No confessions
The tears are over
Forgiveness sighs like the sea
Those mountains are friends
My arms have no ice
The street signs seem like candles
This town is ours and always will be
The pieces come together
Your safe arrival right on time
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Kimono
The Kimono
I was joining a ship in another town; mother followed me the railway station,
which was not far as we lived nearby? From the train I looked down at her and
saw what I had never seen, a woman with unkempt hair, in an old overcoat
with missing buttons and shoes that needed heeling. There were many other
people on the platform, but she stood out looking like a bag woman.
I felt ashamed and guilty for feeling embarrassed. When returning I will have
money to buy her a new coat, shoes and send her to a hairdresser, I thought.
The train moved forward and I waved as long as I could see her.
A year later my ship had just left Tokyo, bound for the Panama canal, when
the radio operator came into the galley with a cable, I could see in his face he
had no glad tiding. I sat in my cabin grieving, took out the kimono I had bought
her it was made of silk and was as soft as a mother’s embrace; and I cried.
A knock on my door it was the captain who said: “No time for tears son, crew
needs to be fed and you are the cook.“ That night and many nights thereafter
I was lulled asleep by the ship’s steady heartbeat.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Too Late To Try
I don't want to die
Even though I have to
I just want to live a long, long time
And I see the gang to which I belong
Time to sing out our happy song
Wouldn't it be a cruel joke
If it's too late to try? Why?
I don't wanna grow
Even if it's good growth
I just wanna stay just like this
And I see the comfortable place to rest
Time to get this $^@! off my chest
Wouldn't it be a cruel joke
If it's too late to try? Why
song performed by by Weezer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cruel Joke
Love
Just a cruel joke
One wrought with depression and pain
Though it's a lie that we tell
Over and over again
Within our sight
But just out of reach
We speak of it's joy
A feeling to embrace
Never knowing that one
Just one to many mistakes
Will knock down the home
And the foundation will shake
The warmth, of love, will escape
While the ice cold rain, of reality
Comes rushing in
Inside, crushed dreams
Dead hopes and one broken shattered heart
While outside
The grim reaper of consequence
Dumps one another
And another shovel again
Love
A cruel joke
I should say not
Love
A delicate balancing act
When not done right
Is just cruel
poem by Matt Mondschein
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It Is A Joke
it is a joke
and it will always be
a joke
that how it is,
it is a joke, my own joke, and i laugh
when i remember it,
i send it to you and you send it back
like a ping-pong ball
it bounces and i see it coming
back to me
it hits me right in my eyes
got double vision, cross-eyed
i am hurt. It is not a joke anymore.
it is here beside
a tear, a bruise, stained and scarred.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The People That We Love (Speed Kills)
Speed kills coming down the mountain
Speed kills coming down the street
Speed kills with presence of mind and
Speed kills if you know what I mean
Got to feel - woke up inside again
Got to feel less broke more fixed
Got to feel when I got outside myself
Got to feel when I touched your lips
The things we do to the people that we love
The way we break if there's something we can't take
Destroy the world that we took so long to make
We expect her gone for some time
I wish her safe from harm
To find yourself in a foreign land
Another refugee outsider refugee
How's it feel she's coming up roses
How's it feel she's coming up sweet
How's it feel when it's all in spite of you
How's it feel when she's out of your reach
The things we do to the people that we love
The way we break if there's something in the way
Destroy the world that we took so long to make
We expect her gone for some time
I wish her safe from harm
To find yourself in a foreign land
Another refugee outsider refugee
What happened to you
song performed by by Bush from Golden State
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Inspired by Issa - Summer Kimono
an euption in my heart
the splendid kimono
the six figure price
inspired by
even trying on my summer kimono
lonely...
Eastern Mountains
-Issa,1804
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Social Security
No one is safe. The streets are unsafe.
even in the safety zones, it's not safe.
Even safe sex is not safe.
Even things you lock in a safe
are not safe. Never deposit anything
in a safety deposit box, because it
won't be safe there. Nobody is safe
at home during baseball games anymore.
At night I go around in the dark
locking everything, returning
a few minutes later
to make sure I locked
everything. It's not safe here.
It's not safe and they know it.
People get hurt using safety pins.
It was not always this way.
Long ago, everyone felt safe. Aristotle
never felt danger. Herodotus felt danger
only when Xerxes was around. Young women
were afraid of wingéd dragons, but felt
relaxed otherwise. Timotheus, however,
was terrified of storms until he played
one on the flute. After that, everyone
was more afraid of him than of the violent
west wind, which was fine with Timotheus.
Euclid, full of music himself, believed only
that there was safety in numbers.
[from The Drift of Things, The Figures Press, 2001]
http://www.terencewinch.com
poem by Terence Winch
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Nobody Spoke (for Karen)
Nobody spoke to Lucy,
nobody spoke at all,
ain't no joke
nobody spoke.
nobody spoke
for five long years
ain't no joke
nobody spoke.
Lucy withdrew
without a clue
why nobody spoke,
nobody spoke
for five long years,
nobody spoke
Ain't no joke
nobody spoke!
Lucy went mad
she went crazy!
She screamed
she cried, she sobbed,
but nobody spoke,
for five long years
Ain't no joke
nobody spoke.
Many years later
she saw them,
those people she wanted
to be her friends.
but ain't no joke
nobody spoke,
nobody spoke
for five long years.
Ain't no joke
nobody spoke.
Lucy left a note
in daddy's drawer,
put on her very best dress.
Did her hair in a very fine way
and walked into the hall as a guest.
She walked up to the folk
that never spoke,
said hello in an ordinary way,
then she pulled out a gun
and opened fire.
Yes she shot all those folk
on that day.
Now they were silent
now they were still,
cos ain't no joke
that nobody spoke
and now
they never will.
poem by Ruth Walters
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Animal Refugees
I’m the only elephant in Phnomh Penh
No more of my kind you’ll see
My wife ran off from the killing fields
She’s an animal refugee
I’m a Mekong crocodile from Vietnam
When the napalm scorched each tree
I swam to Laos at dead of night
I’m an animal refugee
I’m a slithery snake from Angkor Wat
Where the mountains churned the sea
Now tourists squat in my habitat
I’m an animal refugee
When people’s homes are ripped apart
There’s appeals on world TV
No one saves us. There’s little fuss
For an animal refugee.
poem by Sheena Blackhall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Safety
Dear! of all happy in the hour, most blest
He who has found our hid security,
Assured in the dark tides of the world that rest,
And heard our word, 'Who is so safe as we?'
We have found safety with all things undying,
The winds, and morning, tears of men and mirth,
The deep night, and birds singing, and clouds flying,
And sleep, and freedom, and the autumnal earth.
We have built a house that is not for Time's throwing.
We have gained a peace unshaken by pain for ever.
War knows no power. Safe shall be my going,
Secretly armed against all death's endeavour;
Safe though all safety's lost; safe where men fall;
And if these poor limbs die, safest of all.
poem by Rupert Brooke
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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1914 II: Safety
Dear! of all happy in the hour, most blest
He who has found our hid security,
Assured in the dark tides of the world that rest,
And heard our word, 'Who is so safe as we?'
We have found safety with all things undying,
The winds, and morning, tears of men and mirth,
The deep night, and birds singing, and clouds flying,
And sleep, and freedom, and the autumnal earth.
We have built a house that is not for Time's throwing.
We have gained a peace unshaken by pain for ever.
War knows no power. Safe shall be my going,
Secretly armed against all death's endeavour;
Safe though all safety's lost; safe where men fall;
And if these poor limbs die, safest of all.
poem by Rupert Brooke
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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II. Safety
Dear! of all happy in the hour, most blest
He who has found our hid security,
Assured in the dark tides of the world at rest,
And heard our word, 'Who is so safe as we?'
We have found safety with all things undying,
The winds, and morning, tears of men and mirth,
The deep night, and birds singing, and clouds flying,
And sleep, and freedom, and the autumnal earth.
We have built a house that is not for time's throwing.
We have gained a peace unshaken by pain forever.
War knows no power. Safe shall be my going,
Secretly armed against all death's endeavour;
Safe though all safety's lost; safe where men fall;
And if these poor limbs die, safest of all.
poem by Rupert Brooke
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Crying for her first emperor…
Her tears mingle wearing his crossed-collar
Blue silk blouse in bed
And, when there dried, she's interned in clay.
With her terracotta army,
With her terracotta, stalwart, horse.
Oh she's crying for her first emperor…
For her first loves dynasty,
Oh she'll excavate - all those undeserving,
Others and weep, whilst!
Her stalwart horse pulls… at the bit.
And until her - jade-black hair!
Turns grey and falls from its pine-cone-braids.
And, rest on her moon, washed, collarbones.
She'll remain resolute! Warm in his robes…
In his crossed-collar blue silk blouse
In his crossed-collar blue silk blouse
Until one day, she'll be rapt - naked
Warm beside him; again in his loving throes.
But until then he'll be engaging in a war
Far, far out of her hollow weepings reach…
He'll be trembling in his gun-boots.
Driving his chariots, over the rank and file…
Of her dream terracotta army,
Sent to bring him back to her bedchamber!
On a stalwart, horse, sent to…
Sent to… Sent to…
Sent to rescue; him from drowning.
poem by Mark Heathcote
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Orphaned Land - The Storm Still Rages Inside
The rain keeps on falling
Filling the dried land
It drinks the purity of life
(The) land starts to grow
It must be a sign
A message from God's hand
Like tears from the sky
Water begins its flow
Left alone, deserted so long ago
The storm still rages inside
Before the dawn rises I cannot see the light
This land's ground grows weak
Shall we find the path ?
The preacher's words were right
I can't see anyway to (the outer world)
Tears do flow, yet can't conceal
This land is barren, it does not feel
Our self-made slaughter
By our own hands
Here lies the orphaned land...
Suddenly lightning strikes the earth
It marks the sign of my rebirth
Seeds of love from myself evolve
This cannot be living - without (your) safety
The storm still rages inside...
Invisible rays penetrate the ground
This land to die is surely bound
Suffer but doesn't scream
Can this be a hopeless dream ?
song performed by by Orphaned Land
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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4 The Tears In Your Eyes (live) (feat. Wendy & Lisa)
4 the Tears in Your Eyes [Controversy Music, ASCAP - 1985]
------------------------ [From "We Are the World"]
Long ago, there was a man
Could change stone to bread
With one touch of his hand
Made the blind see
And the dumb understand
And he died 4 the tears in your eyes (your eyes)
Many people came from all around
To hear this man preach
The glorious sound
He spoke of man in harmony, and love abound
And he died 4 the tears in your eyes (your eyes)
Died 4 the tears in your eyes (your eyes)
4 the tears in your eyes, and the tears of sorrow
For 6 may be all that there were
For the rising sun each day assures us
The meek shall inherit the earth (the earth)
Faith is word, we all should try
In describing a man
Who willingly died
Believe that your sorrow, hunger, and fears
Is less than the tears in your eyes (your eyes)
(your eyes) (your eyes)
Less than the tears in your eyes (your eyes)
4 the tears in your eyes, and the tears of sorrow
For 6 may be all that there were
For the rising sun each day assures us
The meek shall inherit the earth (the earth)
4 the tears in your eyes, and the tears of sorrow
For 6 may be all that there were
For the rising sun each day assures us
The meek shall inherit the earth (the earth
song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Am......Therefore, I Feel! !
I am a child, lost in a strange and frightening world,
A refugee in a time of trouble.
I gaze upon the faces in a hostile crowd:
An orphan, whose home is a pile of rubble.
See me!
I am the victim of habitual abuse, crying for help
Though there's no-one to hear.
I cry myself to sleep each night
But can find no help or solace here.
Hear me!
I am the invisible person, unnoticed, unloved
Never showing the pain inside
Of having no-one there to come home to.
You'll never know the tears I've cried.
Touch me!
I am a broken spirit, forged by an unforgiving life.
Living in squalor, foraging for food,
Begging on the streets for coins,
Dependant on strangers in a giving mood.
Pity me!
poem by Dawn Ferrett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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He Comes From A Different Culture
He comes from a different culture the tall dark one with such a great smile
And he finds it so hard to settle here so far from the banks of the Nile
He cannot speak the English language the tongue of this Southern Land
And that he feels he is an outsider ought not be hard to understand.
Tall and lean he looks very athletic and like a runner quite light on his feet
But he is not known as a sportsman and he never was an athlete
A young man in his early twenties and so gentle in his own quiet way
He speaks just a few words of English and two of those words are 'good day'
War and famine ravage his Homeland and for him 'twas not a safe place
And he fled just like many others to live far from his clan and race
To smile to him comes rather easily and he seems untainted by guile
But in his dark eyes there's a longing for the distant banks of the Nile.
My sympathies with the poor fellow he seems such an honorable bloke
He came to this Country a pauper financially dependant and broke
From his tribe to a refugee camp and life for him downhill all of the way
One hopes for him a better future though in that he doesn't have a say.
In this City his life is so different nostalgia is such a strange thing
Amongst his tribe and his family he felt happy and good memories of the past to him cling
Back home everybody was special and here he's just one more refugee
To smile to him it may come easy but the sadness in his eyes one see.
He comes from a different culture and of this culture not much he knows
And here he must feel an outsider but one might say that's life I suppose
He is such an honorable fellow yet how sad his life for him must be
And life is not meant to be easy for any poor Stateless Refugee.
poem by Francis Duggan
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In A Poem
in a poem
or even in a pseudo
poem
i like to be as articulate as a
winding river
as happy as a gazelle
jumping on a hill
as secretive as a cave
keeping my stalagmites
and stalactites
as social as a fish
talking to a fly
as loud as a frog croaking
with the rain
as blue as the cloud
as green as the grass
(pardon these cliches)
i like to be as true as
a barking dog to the wrong
tree wagging its tail
even to the wrong master
in any poem be it a true poem
or a pseudo poem
i like to sing with the cicadas
on lonely nights like this
and when my soliloquy is over
in all poems
and pseudo poems
i like to dropp
in my much needed
sleep in my couch
or on the solid wooden floor
dead.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Secretly Cruel
I saw my pictures hangin on her wall
She cut it out of that magazine
It was a hot day, she wore lingerie
And nothin else in between, ooh
She had long hair and thigh high snake skin boots
And she was all over me like a cheap suit
Then she bared herself, aha
And stripped my soul
Began to shake, rattle, and roll
Then I took control, yeah
But I know shes secretly cruel
I aint nobodys fool
Yeah, I know shes secretly cruel
Just when I though it was safe
She puts her lips to my face
Shes secretly, secretly cruel
Well she grabbed my hair
And I began to rise
I could tell what she wanted
By that look in her eyes, oh, ow
By that look in her eyes, yeah
I said come here babe and make it quick
She said not so fast
And had a drink
Well it aint just luck
But I better knock on wood
Shes gonna give me everything
Somehow I knew she would
Oh, but I know shes secretly cruel
I aint nobodys fool
Well, I know shes secretly cruel
I said baby youre the fire, but I am the fuel
Shes secretly, secretly cruel
Yeah, so cruel
Well it aint just luck (aint just luck)
But I better knock on wood, yeah
Shes gonna give me everything
Somehow I knew she would
Oh, but I know shes secretly cruel
I aint nobodys fool, nobodys fool
Secretly, shes so cruel (cruel)
Im in love, but I dont play the fool
Secretly, shes so cruel, secretly, so cruel
Cruel, yeah, cruel, yeah, cruel, yeah
I know shes secretly, shes so cruel, secretly, so cruel
Cruel, yeah, cruel, yeah, cruel, yeah
I know shes secretly, shes so cruel, secretly, shes so cruel
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, secretly, secretly cruel, cruel
song performed by by Kiss
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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